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Sep 7, 2025

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤNIGHT CHANGES ; yjw

#SYNOPSIS >> jungwon never planned on spending his nights dodging half-demodog girls. he just wanted to be normal hawkins boy in 1976, or at least make it through a party without running away from girls. instead, he ends up pulled into something bigger: training sessions he never asked for, government secrets, and a girl who never tells him her name but keeps saving his life anyway. does it ever drive you crazy just how fast the night changes? jungwon knows it does. but what scares him more is how quickly he stopped wanting to run from any of it.

→ pairing: jungwon x fem!reader // stranger things au, romcom, mystery, slowburn, strangers to lovers, 70s au, paranormal #playlist → somebody’s watching me - rockwell | maneater - daryl hall & john oates | you spin me round - dead or alive | i was made for loving you - kiss | lay all your love on me - abba → word count: 22k

!! warnings: mild violence, weed consumption, supernatural creatures, mild language, some suspense/anxiety moments

before anything happened, jungwon was just that kind of guy who tried really hard to get things right. maybe too hard. he wasn’t awkward exactly, just very in his own head. the type who triple-checked if he locked the door, then walked back again just to make sure. he was always polite, always on time, always brought his own pen just in case. he liked routine, stability, knowing exactly what was coming next. which, unfortunately, made him the worst possible person to be living in hawkins, indiana.

this town had a reputation, well, not that anyone ever really talked about it. not properly, at least. there were always those “gas leaks” and “mall fires” and “lab accidents,” but people around here learned to mind their business and keep flashlights in every room just in case. (jungwon had four.)

he wasn’t the type who got involved with that stuff. the most dangerous thing he’d ever done was ride his bike after 9 p.m. but still, there was something about hawkins that made normal feel a little unstable. power went out more than it should. compasses acted weird sometimes. and one time, his goldfish turned up dead for no reason, which felt minor but suspicious.

and dating didn’t really work out for him either. not because he wasn’t cute (he was, annoyingly so), or because he didn’t know how to talk to people. it was more like he didn’t fully know how to be a person around people he liked. he tried, he really did. and for a while, he convinced himself he just had bad luck. or maybe it was just hawkins. maybe dating was harder when your town was possibly cursed. but still, he kept showing up, he kept trying.

because that’s the thing about jungwon: even when he was absolutely unsure about what he was doing, he showed up anyway. clean shirt, hopeful heart, half a bottle of cologne, probably sweating through his undershirt, but ready to fall in love with someone who laughed at his jokes.

he never expected it to be you, though. and definitely not the way it happened. not after that date, not after that disaster of a night. not after demodogs showed up. but we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

it wasn’t really jungwon’s idea. the date, i mean. it was one of those “you should totally meet her” situations, where someone (jay) says it in a way that makes it sound like you don’t have a choice. in this case, the someone was his best friend, so jungwon figured he couldn’t exactly say no without starting some kind of friendship thing.

“her name’s minju,” jay had said. “she’s cool. she listens to rolling stones and smokes clove cigarettes” and jungwon didn’t really know what that meant, but he said okay anyway.

he met minju for the first time at the arcade, where she was playing galaxian, she had three bobby pins in her hair, a hole in her sleeve, and offered him half a cherry slushie before even asking his name. she was kind of intimidating, but she smiled at him and called him “pretty boy,” and honestly, that was enough to make him agree to the drive-in before he had time to think about it.

it was a double feature — jaws and the exorcist — the kind of lineup that made him slightly nervous but also felt like the right thing to do. it was 1976, after all. people were into that stuff, like horror movies and jean jackets. so he borrowed heeseung’s car, packed two bags of popcorn in a paper bag, and wore his best (only) button-down shirt.

minju said the movie was boring halfway through the first reel and asked if he wanted to go "somewhere quieter." jungwon, being jungwon, said sure, even though jaws had literally just eaten a guy on screen and he was kind of invested. they ended up parked near the edge of the woods behind the screen, sitting on the hood of the car while she pulled out a joint from her sock like it was completely normal. she lit it, took a long drag, and passed it to him without saying anything. he stared at it like it was a test.

“you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she said, smiling sideways. “i won’t tell your mom.”

so jungwon took it, of course he did. what was he gonna do? say no and watch her laugh at him for the rest of the night? so yeah, he took one single inhale, immediately coughed so hard he nearly fell off the hood, and then tried to play it cool while tears ran down his face. minju said it was cute. and for a second, it actually felt kind of okay. like maybe this whole thing wouldn’t be a total disaster. but, unfortunately for jungwon, it was a total disaster.

you see, jungwon lived in hawkins his whole life. he knew this place was weird. there were too many locked government buildings, too many stories that ended with “and then we never saw him again.” but even with all that, he never thought he’d end up on a date like this. he knew minju had a bit of a maneater reputation. he just didn’t think it was… literal. because that night he discovered that minju was, in fact, half demodog.

jungwon had no idea how he ended up here. ten minutes ago, things were going… okay. or, well, okay-ish. the kind of “okay” where he was slightly high, kind of cold, and trying to act normal while sitting next to a girl talking about astrology now — something about scorpios and karmic cycles — and jungwon, who was an aquarius and didn’t know what that meant for him exactly, just nodded like he understood. he didn’t, but she was smiling at him with this sleepy, glazed-over expression, and he figured that was enough.

he was just starting to relax when she went quiet. not in the casual, “i’m thinking” kind of way, but in a sudden way where your brain immediately registers that something isn’t right. her body stiffened slightly, her fingers twitching in her lap. and then, without saying anything, she tilted her head to the side and made a low, guttural sound in the back of her throat.

at first he thought she was messing with him. some weird joke. a dramatic horror movie bit. maybe she was trying to scare him. maybe that was her thing. some girls smoked weed and talked about their dreams. maybe minju turned into a demon for fun. but then she made the noise again, louder, and her shoulders started to shake. her head snapped once, then again, too fast to be normal. and that’s when jungwon saw that her jaw was changing. or stretching. unhinging? he could not tell or explain. her mouth opened far wider than it should have, and her eyes, both of them, darkened like someone had shut off a light behind her face.

he didn’t even have time to scream before her skin split. it wasn’t bloody, it was more like peeling, like something inside her had been waiting to get out. claws pushed through her hands, her spine shifted, and her entire shape rearranged in front of him like her body was just a placeholder.

jungwon scrambled off the car and hit the ground hard, scraping his elbow on a rock as he landed in the dirt. he tried to get up, lost his balance, and immediately stepped out of his own shoe. it was pathetic. this was not how he thought his night would go. he was supposed to maybe hold hands, maybe get a goodnight kiss, not get eaten alive by the girl who complimented his collar earlier. so he pushed himself up and ran (or limped, technically) toward the tree line, heart hammering, head spinning. behind him, he could hear the sound of claws hitting ground. he didn’t dare look back, not yet. if he was gonna die in the woods behind a drive-in theater, he didn’t want the last thing he saw to be his date-turned-monster lunging at his head.

but then something else happened. there was a sharp, metallic clang, followed by a loud snarl and what sounded like something collapsing into the leaves. for a second, he thought he was hallucinating — maybe the weed was stronger than he thought — but then he blinked and saw someone standing in front of him.

it was you.

you were holding a crowbar, your jacket streaked with something wet and dark, your expression unreadable. your breathing was fast, but steady. jungwon stared at you, chest heaving, completely frozen.

“you good?” you asked casually, like you’d just bumped into him on the street and not saved him from a literal demonic creature.

he blinked a few times. “minju—she—she just—”

“turned into something with claws and multiple rows of teeth?” you said, stepping past him. “yeah. i noticed.”

you crouched beside what was left of her — well, it — and pulled something out of your backpack. it looked like a bear trap, but there were wires running through it and it made a quiet buzzing noise when you snapped it open. jungwon sat up slowly, wincing as he touched his scraped elbow. he watched as you locked the trap around one of the creature’s limbs (no, paws?) and tried to stand back up, brushing the dirt off your jeans like this was the most normal thing in the world.

“are you like... with the police?” he asked, because his brain couldn’t come up with anything better.

you glanced over your shoulder at him. “do i look like i’m with the police?” he didn’t answer. “she won’t shift back now,” you said. “not until they come get her.”

“they?” he repeated. “who’s they?”

“government,” you said, tightening the straps on your bag. “probably. they don’t tell me a lot.” jungwon was still trying to process what was happening: his date turning into a literal monster, your weird trap device, the fact that you just kind of showed up. “you should go before someone sees you,” you said, already halfway across the clearing. “or before another one shows up.”

“wait—there’s more?”

you stopped, looked over your shoulder again, and raised an eyebrow. “this is hawkins,” you said. “there’s always more.”

he didn’t know what to say to that. he also didn’t know how to ask for your name without sounding like a complete idiot. and before he could figure out how to say anything useful, you were already walking away. so he fully stood up now, still missing one shoe, still bleeding a little, and still way too dazed to form a sentence longer than four words. but somehow, his mouth moved anyway.

“wait!” he called.

and just like that, you climbed onto your bike and pedaled off into the trees like it was just another tuesday night. jungwon stood there for a long time, still half in shock, the sound of your wheels fading behind him. he looked at the blood, the trap, the sky. then down at his sock, now dirty and wet and very alone without its matching shoe.

he didn’t understand what just happened. but what he did know, somehow, very clearly, was that he really, really wanted to see you again.

so when jay asked “dude, what kind of weed did you smoke?” half-laughing, half-serious, as he leaned back against the convenience store wall, jungwon didn’t answer right away. he just sat on the curb with his elbows on his knees, staring out at the nearly empty parking lot like he was waiting for something to crawl out of the pavement. the sun was too bright, the world too loud. every passing car felt like a threat. he hadn’t really slept in two days. his other shoe was still missing.

jay nudged his shoulder. “you seriously saw her turn into what? a dog? like a werewolf thing?”

“no,” jungwon muttered. “not a dog. like... something with claws. and her face... split.”

“bro.” jay exhaled, shaking his head. “you gotta stop eating whatever jake gives you. i’m telling you, that’s not weed. it’s probably laced with, like, rat poison or something. you hallucinated.”

jungwon didn’t answer. he didn’t have the energy to argue. he knew what he saw. he knew it wasn’t a trip. he still had the scrape on his elbow, the dirt-stained sock, the memory of your voice telling him, this is hawkins. there’s always more.

“anyway,” jay went on, dropping the candy wrapper onto the ground, “you’re not gonna believe this part. apparently minju left town the next morning. like, someone said her parents came to get her. moved back to wherever she was before. some place in new mexico, i think. totally random.”

he snorted, like the timing was just some weird coincidence. but jungwon could feel the shift in his chest again, that low, creeping sensation that hadn’t left since that night behind the drive-in. it didn’t feel like a coincidence, it felt like a cleanup. like the kind of thing that happened when something unnatural tried too hard to fit into a normal life and someone upstairs hit the eject button. he wanted to ask more questions — who saw her leave, when exactly, who said it first — but every time he tried, his throat tightened. like the universe didn’t want him digging too deep.

so instead he just nodded and let jay change the subject. and after that, the days sort of blurred together.

heeseung picked him up in his beat-up mustang a few times, trying to distract him with trips to drive-throughs and cassette tapes of the eagles. riki stopped by his house with popsicles and theories about the cia putting fluoride in the water. jay pretended nothing weird had ever happened at all. they all knew something was off with him, but they were guys in the seventies: no one knew how to talk about feelings unless a guitar was involved.

jungwon tried to be normal. he showed up to band practice, went to the arcade, even helped his neighbor’s kid fix her broken banana seat bike. he said all the right things, laughed at the right moments, nodded along when someone mentioned classes starting soon. but his brain wouldn’t stop looping. not just the image of minju shifting into something with claws and teeth (though that haunted him a lot too), but you. the way you moved without hesitation. the way you handled something that should’ve been impossible like it was routine. the way you didn’t ask for thanks. didn’t wait around. just did what needed to be done and disappeared again.

you hadn’t said your name. hadn’t looked back. hadn’t even given him time to process before riding off like it was nothing.

but jungwon couldn’t let it go. so he started carrying a flashlight with him everywhere. he borrowed books from the school library about local history, weird animal sightings, electromagnetic pulses. he hung out at the drive-in more, hoping maybe you’d show up again. he even checked the tree line a few times. nothing.

no one believed him, of course. why would they? even he didn’t fully believe it half the time. but the scrape on his elbow hadn’t faded yet. and sometimes, late at night, he swore he could hear a noise low and distant. he didn’t know what you were, and he didn’t know what minju had become, or why it happened, or what it meant for him. but he knew one thing for sure: you had answers, and he wasn’t going to stop until he found you again.

jungwon worked at a place called decelis’ hobby depot, a cramped little store on main street. it wasn’t fancy, or cool, or particularly clean, but it had working fans, a cassette player behind the counter, and a boss who didn’t ask too many questions, so jungwon thought it was a decent workplace. they sold mostly model kits, train sets, dungeons & dragons starter boxes, war magazines, and dusty board games that only like five people in town knew how to play. it was the kind of shop where a guy could spend three hours arguing over star trek vs. battlestar galactica and still come back the next day to do it again.

jungwon didn’t mind it. in fact, for the last week, he kind of depended on it. because everything else in his life felt off. he kept telling himself it was a normal week. monday had mail. tuesday had math. wednesday he almost got hit by mrs. choi’s car while biking to work, which happened often enough it barely counted as an event. he shelved new inventory. he restocked dice. he re-taped the sign on the bathroom door that kept falling off. just another week. except no, not really.

because no matter how normal everything looked, jungwon couldn’t stop thinking about what happened behind the drive-in. about the way minju’s eyes had gone black. about the way your voice sounded when you told him to leave. about the way you’d looked at him, not scared, not surprised, just a little annoyed, like he’d accidentally walked into the wrong movie screening. maybe you were part of some secret operation, or maybe you lived in the woods, or maybe you were actually a hallucination brought on by stress and cheap weed. he didn’t know. all he knew was that every night when he closed his eyes, he heard snarling and metal and your voice saying, she won’t fully shift back now.

which is probably why, when a girl walked into the shop on wednesday and smiled at him, he almost dropped the box of paint thinner he was holding.

“hey,” she said, leaning on the counter. she was chewing grape gum and had feathered bangs and those tinted sunglasses that were more for fashion than sun. “you work here?”

jungwon blinked. “uh. yeah?”

she smiled wider. “cool. do you guys sell glue?”

“glue?”

“yeah, like for model kits. i’m helping my brother build the starship enterprise. i think it’s dumb, but he’s ten, so.”

“oh. yeah. uh—aisle three.”

he pointed. she didn’t look. instead, she tilted her head and said, “have we met before?”

jungwon’s brain did the thing it had been doing all week: flashing red lights, minor panic, sudden need to escape. because this was familiar. a pretty girl, a friendly smile, a dumb question. this was exactly how it had started with minju. one second he was making small talk, the next he was screaming in a forest with one shoe and a bloody elbow.

“nope,” he said quickly. “definitely not.”

she laughed like she thought he was being cute. “you sure? i could swear i’ve seen you somewhere.”

he stepped slightly backward. “i have a really generic face.” (no, jungwon, you don’t.)

her smile faltered for a second, but she recovered fast. “well, i’m eunchae,” she said, twirling her gum. “in case you remember later.”

he didn’t answer. she waited, clearly expecting him to ask where she lived or at least say his name, but he just stood there with the glue still in his hand and the sudden, irrational fear that if she blinked too long, her face would split open.

after a few more seconds of silence, she shrugged, said “okay, awkward,” and walked toward aisle three. he let out a breath. he wasn’t trying to be rude. really, he wasn’t. under different circumstances — different year, different town, different everything — maybe he would’ve flirted back. maybe he would’ve asked if she was free friday night or offered her a discount she didn’t earn. but right now? he couldn’t do it. because the last girl who smiled at him like that had tried to kill him.

and jungwon was closing that wednesday. the closing shift was always the worst, but that night it was especially brutal. seungcheol, the store owner, had asked jungwon to stay late to reorganize the new shipment of model tanks and fantasy figurines that arrived in a box that smelled vaguely like wet socks. jungwon just nodded and didn’t argue, even though he was already on his fifth day of barely sleeping and kind of thought he was losing his mind.

so he stayed and he restocked. he put price tags on a whole army of tiny plastic wizards. he flipped the “open” sign to “closed” and locked the door behind him. and by the time he stepped outside, the sky was dark and the street was nearly empty. it was one of those sticky indiana nights where the air felt thick and the bugs were louder. all the lights on main street were off except the flickering one in front of the laundromat, and for a second, the town felt even smaller than usual.

he walked around the back of the shop, grabbed his bike from the alley, and started pedaling home like he always did. but something felt... weird. it felt like someone was watching him. like there was a second set of tires behind him. or footsteps in sync with his pedaling. or maybe it was just his paranoia again, that had been happening a lot lately.

he shook it off. tried to focus on the road, on the sound of his wheels, on the cassette tape playing in his walkman. it was led zeppelin. kashmir. dramatic as hell. not helping.

he was maybe five minutes from home when it happened. he’d just turned onto the narrow road that ran alongside the woods when he saw her, eunchae, the girl from the store. she was standing off to the side of the road, near the tree line, like she’d been waiting for him.

and listen, maybe in any other context, he would’ve thought this was some kind of romantic gesture. some 1976 version of “i made you a playlist” but given everything that had happened lately (the murder girl, he demodog thing, you) his brain did the only rational thing it could do: it panicked. his legs locked, the handlebars twisted. and before he could stop it, he hit a bump, swerved left, and went flying off the bike like a cartoon character. he landed on his side in the gravel. his walkman skipped. his elbow throbbed.

“shit—” he groaned, rolling over.

he looked up just in time to see her walking toward him. slowly. too slowly. and her smile? was soft. too soft. “hey,” she said, crouching down next to him like this was totally normal. “are you okay?”

“what are you doing out here?” he asked, voice shaky.

“i was just walking. saw you riding by.” her voice was weirdly calm. like she practiced being casual.

she reached a hand toward him, and for a second, he almost took it, until he looked up fully and saw her eyes. not both, just the left one. for a second, maybe less, it shimmered red. not bloodshot, not a reflection. red, glowing.

he flinched so hard he rolled backwards and scrambled to his feet, nearly twisting his ankle in the process. his bike was on its side. his knee was bleeding. he didn’t care. “i—I have to go,” he stammered.

“jungwon,” she said, still calm. too calm. how did she know his name? he did not say it back then. “don’t you want to talk?”

“nope,” he said, already turning. but before he could bolt into the woods or pass out or both, there was a flash of a headlight and a sudden screech of tires behind him. someone skidded to a stop on a bike, just a few feet away, dirt kicking up under the wheels.

it was you again.

he hadn’t even gotten a full second to process what he was seeing before you’d cut through the woods somehow, like you knew exactly where he’d be, or where the thing pretending to be eunchae would be. you jumped off before the bike had even fully stopped, hair a little windblown, sleeves pushed up, bag already slung around to the front like you’d done this a hundred times. and maybe you had. you looked dead serious, the kind of serious that made jungwon freeze in place even though his entire brain was screaming run.

“you,” he breathed out, half in shock, half in what might’ve been hope. he didn’t even know anymore.

you didn’t look at him at first. your eyes were locked on eunchae or whatever version of her was standing there now. she wasn’t moving much, just enough to make jungwon feel like something was about to go horribly wrong. her posture had shifted just slightly, but it was enough, you could see it. you were already pulling something out of your bag. not a weapon, exactly, but not not a weapon either. something with wires and tape and glowing parts that made no sense to him but clearly made sense to you.

“back up,” you said, calm but firm. your voice cut straight through whatever panic had been building in his chest, and he didn’t even think. he just did what you said.

eunchae smiled, but it wasn’t a regular smile. it was off. like she wasn’t fully in control of it. her head tilted a little too far to the side, and for a second, jungwon saw it again, that flash of red in her eyes, like something inside her had just blinked awake.

“she’s starting to shift,” you muttered, mostly to yourself. you were already crouching, loading something into the device in your hands with way too much ease. “god, i hate when they do it halfway. it’s always creepier.”

jungwon didn’t say anything. he was too busy trying not to throw up. and then it happened fast, her jaw twitched like it was going to split again, and her fingers cracked, and that awful low growl started up in her throat. but before she could take even one step forward, you aimed, flipped a switch, and shot her in the side with something that looked like a cross between a cattle prod and a glue gun. there was a zap so loud it echoed, a flash of sparks, and then she just dropped. not like she died, more like someone unplugged her.

you didn’t even flinch. just walked over to check that she was fully down and then stood up again, brushing your hands off like it was nothing more than a particularly annoying chore. jungwon watched, still half in shock, as you rolled your shoulders and finally looked at him directly.

“what the hell were you doing out here alone?” you asked, like he was the problem.

he blinked, pointed lamely at his bike, and said, “i was just riding home.”

you gave him a look that said obviously, then sighed like this was the fiftieth time you’d had to save someone from getting eaten by something that used to have a high school ID. your hair was stuck to your forehead and your hands were a little shaky, but your voice stayed flat. “you need to stop being in the exact wrong place at the exact wrong time.”

“i’m not doing it on purpose,” he said, voice cracking a little. “they keep finding me.”

you didn’t argue, but you didn’t disagree either. you just narrowed your eyes and gave him this long once-over like you were trying to figure something out. “maybe it’s your face,” you said finally. and before he could ask what that meant, you’d already turned back toward your bike. you swung your bag onto your back, kicked the stand up, and nodded toward the road like you were giving him a ride home even if he hadn’t asked for one. “come on,” you said. “i’ll ride with you. you clearly need supervision.”

jungwon hesitated for a second, looking between the knocked-out girl on the ground — who still twitched every now and then, like something under her skin was trying to finish transforming — and you, already rolling your eyes like he was taking too long. he grabbed his bike without a word and followed you. his hands were scraped and his knee was bleeding. his pulse hadn’t come down once since he’d left the store. and he was still sort of high from the extra long shift and the headache of reorganizing twenty different kinds of fantasy figurines.

you were halfway down the road, bikes rolling over loose gravel and patches of uneven pavement, the woods pressing in on either side. it was quiet except for the sound of the tires and the occasional crunch of leaves. jungwon rode just a little behind you, close enough to talk, but not close enough to make it weird.

“so,” he said finally, voice low like someone might be listening. “what… what was she?” you didn’t answer right away. just kept pedaling, jaw tight. “was she, like… possessed? or—i don’t know—bitten?”

you sighed. “kind of.”

he frowned. “kind of?”

“look,” you said, still not looking back. “they’re not really possessed. they’re infected. or something close to it.”

“infected by what?”

you slowed down slightly, enough that he could ride more beside you now. “demodogs,” you said, like that word should’ve meant something. to him, it didn’t.

he blinked. “what the hell is a demodog?”

you glanced at him. “you really don’t know anything, do you?”

“no?” he said. “why would i?”

you were quiet for a second, then let out another sigh. you’d realized he wasn’t going to drop it. “they’re creatures,” you said eventually. “not from here. not from our world. there’s this place—it’s called the upside down. it’s like… a parallel version of here, but dead and rotting and full of things that want to eat you.”

jungwon stopped pedaling. he braked hard enough that his tires made a sound on the gravel, and then he stood there, legs on either side of the bike, staring at you like you’d just told him god was real and also personally hated him. you kept going for another second, noticed he wasn’t behind you anymore, and circled back slowly. you shrugged like the whole thing was casual. “i know how it sounds.”

jungwon opened his mouth, then shut it again. opened it once more. eventually he said, “no, yeah. it sounds like i should never leave my house again.”

“not the worst idea,” you said, and then started pedaling again like that was the end of the conversation.

jungwon caught up eventually, legs working automatically even though his brain was very much still in the dirt road behind him. he didn’t know what to think. like, genuinely didn’t have a single coherent thought in his head. just static. maybe a little screaming. he wasn’t sure if he was processing it or if he was actively refusing to. either way, it didn’t feel great. it wasn’t just the “parallel world full of monsters” part. it wasn’t even the fact that apparently those monsters could just infect people. it was more the idea that this had clearly been going on for a while and no one had told him. not the government. not the school. not the news. not even jay, and jay claimed to know everything about weird local shit.

jungwon had lived in hawkins his whole life. he thought the worst thing that ever happened here was that time a raccoon got stuck in the library vent and made the whole building smell like piss for two weeks. but apparently people were getting infected and turning into monsters and being sent back into society like nothing happened. and no one thought that was worth mentioning?

they rode in silence for a minute. well, you rode normally. jungwon was still riding like he was in shock. which, to be fair, he was.

finally, he asked, “so what’s happening to that girl?” his voice came out smaller than he meant. he hadn’t realized how much it had freaked him out until he said her name. the way she smiled right before her face twitched. the red glow in her eyes. the way she crouched like her joints were bending the wrong direction.

you glanced at him, like you could tell he was reliving it, but didn’t say anything about it. you just said, “same thing that happened to the other one. she was taken, changed, and sent back.”

he didn’t ask who sent her back. he already knew you wouldn’t answer that. he didn’t know how many more vague responses he could handle before his head exploded, but the way you said it, like you knew the full picture but were only allowed to hand him a single piece at a time, made it clear he wasn’t getting anything more than that. he nodded anyway.

you took a breath. “they go missing. and when they come back, they’re not exactly the same. they don’t remember much. just enough to pass as normal.”

“but she was normal,” jungwon said. “she was flirting with me like a regular person.”

“yeah,” you said. “that’s kind of the point.”

he looked at you. “but how?” he asked. “who’s doing this? who’s sending them back?”

you were quiet again, but your eyes didn’t leave the road. “they don’t tell me a lot,” you said. “i just get the intel. sometimes the name of a town. sometimes a face. sometimes it’s just a gut feeling.”

he frowned. “who’s they?” you didn’t answer that. he watched you closely. “you’re avoiding that question.”

“i’m avoiding a lot of questions,” you said. “it’s safer that way.”

“for who?” he asked. “me or you?”

you didn’t say anything for a few seconds. then, finally, “both.”

the road curved, and you both leaned into it, tires crunching over the gravel. the trees started to thin a little, and up ahead, there were a few porch lights blinking through the dark. it meant they were getting closer to his neighborhood. close to where things were supposed to be safe again, where he could go inside, lock the door, brush his teeth, maybe pretend for five minutes that none of this had happened. but the thought didn’t help.

jungwon let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and said, mostly to himself, “they keep picking me.” you didn’t say anything right away. you knew he had more to say. so he added, quieter, “why?”

you slowed again, you looked over at him, and he could tell by your face that you weren’t going to sugarcoat anything. not because you were trying to be cold, just because that wasn’t how you operated. “you’re exactly their type,” you said.

he frowned. “their type?”

“you’re...,” you said, flatly. “you’ve got that whole… sweet face thing going on. you’re the perfect bait.”

he blinked. “i’m not bait.”

you didn’t even blink. “you kind of are.”

jungwon stared ahead at the road again, the pit in his stomach growing by the second. he hadn’t thought of it that way. it felt kind of insulting, honestly, being described like some helpless rabbit in the woods. but at the same time, he couldn’t really argue. minju had picked him. eunchae too. and now, apparently, he was the prime target for half-dog monster girls from hell. great!

“so what,” he said after a beat, “you’re just going around saving guys like me from… demon girls?”

you shook your head a little. “not just guys. and they’re not demons. they’re still people. somewhere in there.” you glanced over at him. “but yeah.”

you didn’t elaborate, didn’t launch into some big explanation about what you did or why. and jungwon wasn’t sure if that was because you didn’t trust him, or because you just didn’t see the point in saying more than what was necessary. still, he didn’t press. mostly because he wasn’t sure what else he could even ask. every new answer just raised ten more questions, and he could feel his brain getting slower, like he was full of wet cement instead of blood.

he didn’t know what he expected from you, maybe some kind of plan, or a bigger truth that would explain all of this in a way that made sense. something that would make the last week feel less like the beginning of a horror movie and more like a weird, isolated glitch in the universe. but you didn’t offer anything. and maybe that was the most honest thing about you. no comfort, no reassurance, no pretending that this would all go back to normal. just facts. and your bike tires rolling quietly next to his.

you coasted the rest of the way in silence, and the closer you got to his house, the more jungwon could feel the weird tension in his chest tightening, that thing between anxiety and anticipation that had no clear name. the street was quiet. porch lights were on, sprinklers ticking in the distance, bugs flying lazy circles around the lamppost at the corner. it looked like any other night. it wasn’t.

you pulled up to the curb in front of his house, brakes squeaking just a little, and he put one foot down, glancing toward the front porch light still glowing like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. like he hadn’t nearly died again.

you stayed on your bike, arms resting on the handlebars, backpack still strapped on. always ready to leave. jungwon looked over at you, still not sure what he was supposed to say. so instead, something just fell out of his mouth. “does it ever drive you crazy just how fast the night changes?”

you tilted your head a little, not smiling exactly, but there was something in your face that softened. “if there’s one thing i’ve learned,” you said, “it’s that it always does.”

he nodded, mostly to himself, like he wasn’t sure what to do with that answer. then he looked up at you again. “can i at least know your name?”

you exhaled through your nose. not annoyed this time, more like you were used to the question, and used to not answering it. “next time,” you said.

he let out a dry laugh. “i don’t know if i want there to be a next time.”

you raised an eyebrow. “then i guess we won’t see each other again.”

jungwon stood there for a second, hand still on the handlebars, heart kicking weirdly in his chest. he wanted to say something. that he didn’t mean it like that. that maybe he did want there to be a next time, even if he didn’t fully understand why. even if he still didn’t know what the hell was going on. but you were already starting to turn your bike around, already half-facing the road again like you were about to disappear into the night just as fast as you came.

and he just stood there, watching you. thinking, quietly: i want there to be a next time. i want to see you again. even if he didn’t say it out loud.

saturday night rolled in like it always did in hawkins. heeseung’s place was lit up from the driveway to the back porch, music spilling out into the street, the kind of music you couldn’t escape even if you wanted to. which jungwon did. he’d told jay at least five times that he wasn’t going. first it was because he was tired, then because he had “stuff to do,” and finally because he didn’t think it was a good idea to be around… well, people. women in general. especially after the whole minju-and-eunchae-almost-ate-him situation. but jay was relentless, the kind of relentless that didn’t take “no” as an answer and didn’t care if you were two seconds away from a breakdown.

so somehow, against his better judgment, jungwon ended up in jay’s car, half-listening to deep purple on the tape deck, trying to convince himself that nothing bad ever happened at house parties. which, in hawkins, felt like a lie. and the place was already packed when they got there. people were drinking, laughing, playing music way too loud. there was a keg, there were questionable snacks. and there were girls. a lot of girls.

jungwon had made himself a promise the second he stepped out of the car: no flirting, no small talk, no “just being friendly.” he wasn’t in the mood, and besides, the last two girls who’d shown interest in him had tried to kill him. kind of ruins the whole dating vibe. still, it didn’t stop people from trying. a girl smiled at him by the kitchen. he nodded, took a sip of his drink, and immediately pretended to spot someone across the room so he could walk away. another girl tried to pull him into a game of spin the bottle — he claimed he was “terrible at it” and backed off so fast he almost tripped over a chair. by the third time he ducked out of a conversation with a girl, jay had caught on.

“dude,” jay said, cornering him near the stereo, “are you avoiding every single woman here?”

“no,” jungwon said, which was technically true if you counted the one he’d accidentally brushed past in the hallway without making eye contact.

riki appeared out of nowhere, holding a beer. “he is. he totally is.”

sunghoon joined them a second later, already grinning. “what’s the matter, jungwon? scared you’ll fall in love?”

jungwon rolled his eyes, taking another sip of his drink. “scared i’ll get eaten, actually.”

jay and sunghoon laughed like it was a joke. jungwon didn’t.

he was trying to blend into the wall like it was part of his survival strategy. in theory, it made him look busy. in reality, it just made him look like he was waiting for someone, which apparently was an open invitation for girls with plastic cups and too much eye contact. and it was in the middle of this escape routine that he saw you.

not fully, just a glimpse. you were by the back door, head turned like you were watching something outside, hair catching the light for half a second. jungwon blinked, and you were already moving, slipping into the crowd like you weren’t even trying to be seen. his brain short-circuited. you were here, at this house, at this very party. his legs moved before he could think, weaving past a couple making out in the hallway, sidestepping someone, scanning the crowd for you. but every time he thought he caught sight of you, you were gone again. it was like trying to chase smoke.

by the time he reached the back door, it was open just a crack, letting in a draft of cold air. he pushed it wider and stepped outside, heart pounding, half-expecting to see you standing in the yard like you’d been waiting for him. instead, he found jake and heeseung sitting on the steps, passing a joint back and forth. pass the dutchie by musical youth was playing from a boombox balanced on an overturned milk crate, the tape warbling just slightly, like it had been played too many times.

both of them looked up when he appeared, eyes glassy, smiles slow. “yo,” jake said, holding out the joint like it was a peace offering.

jungwon shook his head, still scanning the yard. it was empty except for an abandoned folding chair and a beer can rolling lazily in the grass. no footsteps. no bike. no sign you’d been there at all.

he stood there for a moment, breathing into his hands, telling himself he was imagining it. maybe it was the music. maybe it was the fact that he was running on four hours of sleep. even thought he hadn’t even smoked whatever jake had brought tonight, so he had no excuse for hallucinating. but he knew what he saw. or at least, he thought he did. so he stayed there a little too long, just staring into the dark like it might rearrange itself into something that made sense.

jake coughed behind him, the kind of cough that doubled as a laugh. “you good, man?” jake asked.

jungwon turned just enough to shake his head. “thought i saw someone.”

“yeah?” jake smirked, already passing the joint back to heeseung. “was she hot?”

jungwon didn’t answer. partly because he wasn’t sure if “hot” was the right word for you, and partly because he didn’t feel like explaining the part where you’d saved his life twice and also might be the only person in hawkins who knew why girls kept trying to eat him.

heeseung exhaled slow, leaning back against the step. “dude, you’re jumpy. you should’ve taken a hit.”

jungwon mumbled something about having to drive later, which wasn’t even true — jay was his ride. but the idea of being high and seeing you again, or worse, seeing something else, made his stomach knot.

the back door creaked open and riki stuck his head out. “yo, jungwon. jay’s looking for you. something about beer pong?”

jungwon groaned. “i don’t even play beer pong.”

“yeah, that’s probably why he wants you,” riki grinned, then disappeared back inside.

he lingered one more second, eyes scanning the treeline beyond the yard. nothing moved. no flash of a leather jacket, no bike leaning against the fence, no you. and inside, the party was somehow louder. he threaded his way back through the kitchen, dodging a girl who’d been eyeing him earlier. she smiled; he pretended to need more chips. jay spotted him from across the room, waving him over like he’d just found a missing person.

“finally,” jay said, shoving a plastic cup into his hand. “you’re my partner.”

so here’s the thing: jungwon had already decided he was just gonna get through the night. play whatever stupid game jay had roped him into, avoid eye contact with anyone holding a drink and a smile, then maybe sneak out early and go home. easy plan. but of course, it didn’t stay easy. the girls they were playing against were the kind of girls jay lived for — all hair flips and fake trash talk, leaning over the table just enough to make him lose focus. jungwon, on the other hand, was just trying to hit the cup and go home. he wasn’t even looking at them until it happened.

jay missed a shot, laughed it off, and one of them leaned in to pick up the ball. her head tilted, and for just a second, jungwon swore he saw a flash of red in her eyes. not like oh she’s wearing contacts red. like this person should not exist in a normal human form red. his stomach dropped. he told himself it was the lighting. then the other girl looked at him, smiling in that slow way that wasn’t really a smile, and her eyes did the same thing. same red, same wrongness.

jungwon froze. the ball slipped out of his hand. jay was still laughing, totally oblivious, asking if he was “already drunk or something.” jungwon didn’t answer. his brain had gone straight to that night on the road, to minju, to eunchae, to the way you’d told him they keep picking him. he took one step back from the table. then another. jay was saying something but it didn’t matter, because jungwon’s heart was already in full flight mode.

“i’m leaving,” he blurted.

“what?” jay blinked. “the game’s not even over—”

“don’t care.”

and that was it. he set the cup down like it was a live grenade and just walked out. no goodbye, no excuse, nothing. straight through the kitchen, out the front door, and onto the street. it was freezing out, but he didn’t care. he didn’t even wait to find jay or get a ride. he just started walking, hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, pulse still pounding like he’d just outrun something. because maybe he had.

he was walking fast with his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, trying to convince himself that if he didn’t make eye contact with anyone or anything, he could actually get to his house without incident. it was a dumb plan, he knew it, but at this point in his life, ignore everything and hope it goes away was pretty much his go-to survival strategy.

the air was cold, the road was quiet except for the sound of his sneakers hitting the pavement, and he kept counting the streetlights between him and his house like it was some kind of countdown to safety. he was maybe five lights away when a shadow stepped directly into his path. jungwon looked up, and there was a girl standing right in front of him, smiling in that casual, friendly way strangers sometimes do when they want directions. “hey,” she said. “do you know what time—”

jungwon didn’t even let her finish the sentence. “no! no, no, no. i don’t want anything, i don’t want to talk to you, just stay away from me!” his voice cracked halfway through, which really added to the general unhinged energy he was putting out. he started backing up, one hand already out in front of him like she was radioactive. “don’t you dare come closer! i swear, i’m serious!”

the girl froze mid-step, eyes wide, and for a second it looked like she wasn’t sure if she should answer him or just run. jungwon, meanwhile, was already scanning for escape routes when he heard your voice from somewhere behind him.

“jungwon,” you called, walking up like you’d just strolled out of a convenience store instead of whatever hell dimension you usually came from. “she’s not one of them.”

he stopped, still breathing hard. “she’s… not?” he asked, his voice dropping from panicked to just extremely awkward.

“no,” you said, like that should’ve been obvious.

and now he was just standing there, feeling the embarrassment creep up the back of his neck. “okay, well, sorry, i’m just—” he stopped, ran a hand over his face, and sighed so hard it sounded like he was trying to let all the frustration out in one breath. “i can’t keep doing this. i’m sick of it. i’m sick of random demon things trying to kill me, i’m sick of not knowing when it’s gonna happen, i’m sick of feeling like i can’t even go outside without something going wrong. i was literally just walking home. minding my own business. i wasn’t bothering anyone.”

the other girl was still there, watching the whole thing like it was the weirdest street performance she’d ever seen. “uh… did you, like, smoke something jake gave you?” she asked carefully.

“no!!!” jungwon practically shouted, throwing his arms out like she’d just accused him of murder. “i did not smoke jake’s weed. but i’m starting to think i should!”

he didn’t wait for a response, he just turned and started walking again, muttering something under his breath about how this town was cursed. you glanced at the girl, shrugged like this was just another friday night in hawkins, and jogged a few steps to catch up with him. the girl stayed where she was, probably wondering why the hell everyone in this town seemed so weird, and why one of them had just yelled at her like she was a movie monster.

jungwon was still marching down the sidewalk when he heard you behind him. “jungwon! wait,” you called out just as he started to walk away, his steps already picking up speed like he was trying to escape not just the night but his own thoughts.

he paused but didn’t turn immediately, like he was debating whether to face you or just keep pretending you weren’t there. finally, he spun around with his hands thrown up, looking half-surrendered, half-exasperated. “what?” he asked, voice a mix of frustration and disbelief. “what do i have to do for these demon girls to stop coming after me? seriously. tell me. i’m losing my mind here.”

he let out a shaky breath, his eyes darting around like the words might disappear if he didn’t get them out fast enough. “my friends are starting to think i’m gay—” he stopped mid-sentence and then hurried to add, “not that there’s anything wrong with that, okay? it’s the seventies, i’m a progressive guy, totally open-minded and all, but i’m not gay. i like women.” then, like he wasn’t quite sure if he should say it or not, he blurted out, “i actually think you’re really pretty—” and immediately his eyes went wide, like he’d just committed a crime in broad daylight. he blinked a few times, as if trying to rewind the last few seconds and unsay everything, but you just raised one eyebrow and didn’t say a word.

after a long pause, you finally spoke, your voice calm but firm. “if you want them to stop coming after you,” you said, “you need to learn how to protect yourself.”

he threw his hands up, frustration spilling out like he couldn’t hold it in any longer. “how am i supposed to protect myself from… whatever this is…” he trailed off, searching for words that even he didn’t fully understand, “…if i don’t even know what this is? i don’t know what an upside down is, i don’t know why this cursed town has half demodogs running around pretending to be girls, and honestly, i don’t even know how you keep finding me before they do.”

as he said it, his mind was spinning in a thousand directions at once. oh god, i just told her i think she’s really pretty he thought, a weird mix of embarrassment and disbelief flooding through him. and you didn’t even blink, no reaction. his mind was saying i’m some idiot talking nonsense or something. maybe i shouldn’t have said that. maybe i should just keep my mouth shut next time.

“you’ll find out. over the next few weeks, i’ll teach you. everything you need to know.” you didn’t say it like it was up for debate, just a plain statement.

jungwon squinted at you like you’d just announced he was joining the army. “what’s that even gonna look like?”

you didn’t hesitate. “saturday afternoons, you meet me at the abandoned train yard outside of town. no excuses, no showing up late, no ‘i forgot.’” you started counting off on your fingers. “first, we start with basic awareness. what to look for, what to listen for, how to tell when someone’s following you without turning into a paranoid mess—though, to be fair, you’re already halfway there. after that, weapons handling. i’ll show you how to use the stuff i carry, and we’ll figure out what works for you so you’re not swinging around like a maniac. then, we move on to what to do if you’re cornered. last, i’ll teach you how to spot if someone’s turning before they actually turn. and no, you’re not going to like the tests for that. they’re uncomfortable. but you’ll survive. probably.”

jungwon stared at you for a long second, like he was waiting for you to laugh and admit this was all some elaborate prank. “so… you’re telling me i now have homework for my own survival?”

“exactly,” you said, completely serious. “and if you actually pay attention, maybe we can get you to a point where you can walk home without screaming at random girls in the street.”

he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “you make it sound so simple.”

“it is simple,” you replied. “it’s just not easy.”

he hated how that kind of made sense. deep down, he knew you were right, because the way things were going, he either learned how to handle this or he’d end up on one of those faded missing persons posters thumbtacked to the grocery store bulletin board, right between the ad for a used lawnmower and the flyer about a lost cat. and the worst part? he could already picture jay making fun of the photo they’d use.

so picture this: jungwon shows up at the abandoned train yard, which honestly looks like the perfect place for any sort of creepy stuff to go down, with rusty tracks, old wooden beams, and enough broken glass to give anyone a legitimate reason to cry if they step on it barefoot. he’s already half regretting agreeing to this whole training thing because, honestly, it sounds like a bad sci-fi movie plot. but here you are, waiting with that usual no-nonsense vibe, like this is just another day for you.

jungwon’s standing there, feeling every bit as out of place as he could be. he’s thinking about how this isn’t exactly what he pictured doing on a saturday afternoon. and here’s you, already pulling out some kind of weapon that looks cobbled together from spare parts. definitely not something you pick up at a regular hardware store in indiana in 1976. and he’s trying so hard to keep his cool, but inside he’s scrambling to piece together everything he’s learned so far, and honestly, most of it sounds insane.

you start by talking about awareness. basically, how to notice when something’s off before it’s too late. jungwon’s eyes dart around the yard, trying not to look like he’s about to bolt, but his heart’s racing anyway. you point out little things he’d never think twice about: a broken twig, a shadow that doesn’t belong, the way someone might be moving just a little too quietly. jungwon tries to keep up, but it’s clear this stuff doesn’t come naturally. every now and then he asks a question, usually dumb ones that make you roll your eyes just a little, but you answer anyway.

then comes weapons handling. you hand him something that looks like a cross between a slingshot and a fishing rod, and his first thought is, “are you serious?” but you’re already showing him how to use it. where to hold it, how to aim, how to not hit himself in the face, which is a real concern. jungwon fumbles more than once, his fingers fumbling over the weird contraption, and you keep telling him to focus. inside, he’s beating himself up. this is supposed to be simple, but it feels like trying to juggle knives while blindfolded. he’s embarrassed, sure, but there’s also this stubborn determination bubbling up because god knows he can’t keep running from this stuff forever.

while you’re teaching, jungwon’s mind keeps wandering back to all the crazy nights he’s had lately. part of him wants to ask why you even care, but he doesn’t. it’s too weird, too raw. instead, he just watches you, figuring out how someone could be so calm when everything around them is falling apart. the whole time, jungwon is juggling fear, confusion, and a weird sort of hope that maybe this nightmare could get a little less scary if he’s got you around. it’s not like he’s expecting to suddenly become some action hero, but if this training means he might survive the next time something goes wrong, well, that’s worth struggling through.

so after a few rounds of jungwon nearly hitting himself in the face with that weird makeshift weapon, you finally stop and cross your arms like you’re about to deliver some serious wisdom. jungwon’s panting a bit, cheeks flushed, not from the workout, but more from feeling like a total mess. and just when he’s about to ask if this is gonna get any easier, you hit him with that look that says, listen up, this is serious.

“you know,” you start, voice low but steady, “this isn’t just about throwing stuff or spotting weird shadows. it’s about trusting yourself. you gotta trust that you’re not gonna freeze when things get bad.”

jungwon blinks at you, trying to act like he’s got it all figured out, but inside he’s scrambling. “easy for you to say. you’re the one who just shows up and kicks ass, i’m the guy who’s one wrong move away from being dinner.”

you roll your eyes but there’s a flicker of something (annoyance? maybe amusement?) in your expression. “yeah, well, maybe you’d do better if you stopped thinking of yourself as a walking disaster.”

he shrugs, half-smiling despite himself. “last time i tried to ‘trust myself,’ i ended up running like a scared puppy while half demon dogs chased me. doesn’t exactly build confidence.”

so you decide jungwon’s ready to graduate from the weird slingshot-thing to something more practical, which, in your world, apparently means a shotgun that looks like it’s seen more action than half the town combined. you hand it to him, but the second it’s in his grip, jungwon’s thinking, oh great, now i’m just one wrong move away from committing accidental homicide. it’s heavier than he expected, awkward to hold, and his first thought is how ridiculous it is that ten minutes ago he was worried about stepping on broken glass, and now he’s got enough firepower to take down whatever nightmare creature decides to stroll in.

you move closer, probably because you have to, but to jungwon it feels… close. like close enough that he can smell the faint soap on your sleeves and see that little crease between your eyebrows when you’re focused. you’re talking, something about where to place his hands or how to brace his shoulder, but he’s only catching about half of it because his brain’s doing this annoying thing where it keeps pointing out, wow, she’s actually really pretty, which is insane because you also literally fight demons for a hobby. and yeah, that makes no sense, but none of this does.

he forces himself to focus when you adjust his grip, your fingers brushing over his. he tries to ignore the fact that his stomach just did something stupid like flip over. instead, he concentrates on your voice, the way you’re explaining how the kickback works, how if he doesn’t hold it right, it’s gonna bruise him in places he doesn’t want to think about. you tell him to aim at an old paint can you’ve set up on a busted wooden beam. he lines it up, squinting, trying to remember every single step you just rattled off. it’s harder than it sounds. the gun feels heavy, his palms are sweating, and he can feel you watching him, which is somehow worse than any monster he’s run into so far. he thinks about how completely absurd it is to be standing here, in some abandoned train yard in indiana, on a saturday, getting shooting lessons from a girl he met while running from half demon dogs.

he fires. it’s loud, so loud he’s sure someone in town heard it, and the kickback shoves into his shoulder hard enough to make him stumble. the shot misses the can by a mile.

you sigh, stepping forward to fix his stance again, and jungwon’s mind is already spiraling. he’s thinking, this is crazy, i should be at home, i should be doing literally anything else, but also, when you’re this close, it’s hard to remember why he keeps wanting to leave. it’s messed up, but some part of him almost doesn’t mind this whole survival homework thing if it means moments like this. not that he’d admit it to you. not yet, anyway.

so after the whole shotgun fiasco, jungwon’s shoulder is already sore, and his pride’s not doing much better. you’re reloading the weapon and he’s standing there, staring at you, realizing he knows almost nothing about you other than you can scare off monsters and make him feel like an idiot with a single look, and that’s starting to bug him.

he wipes his palms on his jeans, trying to play it casual. “so… how long have you been doing this?” he asks, gesturing vaguely to the gun, the yard, the general vibe of demon-hunting boot camp.

you glance at him, like you’re deciding how much you actually want to say. “long enough,” you answer, which isn’t much of an answer at all.

jungwon frowns. “right. and by ‘this,’ you mean… what exactly? because every time i think i’ve got a handle on what’s going on, something weirder happens. first, it’s girls turning into demodogs in front of me and trying to eat me and then you show up like you’re from some secret government experiment and now i’m here learning how to not shoot my own foot off so… what’s the deal? why me?” he said all of that way too fast, and now the poor boy is panting.

you study him for a second before leaning the gun against a beam. “i told you about the upside down,” you start.

jungwon tilts his head. “yeah, but i’m still not sure what that means.”

you sigh, trying to find the right words. “think of it like… the other side of here. same streets, same buildings, but twisted. dead air, rotting plants, creatures that shouldn’t exist. there’s a tear between that world and ours, and sometimes… things come through.”

jungwon swallows, his brain working overtime. “okay, but that still doesn’t explain why they’re after me.”

“that’s the thing,” you say, crossing your arms. “there’s something about you — maybe your scent, or your energy — they can pick it up. and once they’ve got a target, they don’t stop.”

jungwon blinks at you, trying to decide if you’re messing with him. “so… i’m basically free snack?”

“pretty much,” you say, deadpan.

he groans, dragging a hand down his face. “fantastic. and here i thought my biggest problem this year was college.”

you don’t laugh, and that’s when he realizes you’re not exaggerating. there’s a weight to what you’ve said that sits in his chest in a way he doesn’t like. he wants to ask how you got involved, who taught you, why you even care what happens to him, but he can tell you’re not gonna spill all your secrets in one afternoon. still, the curiosity is there, nagging at him like a loose thread. and if there’s one thing jungwon’s sure of, it’s that he’s not gonna be able to stop pulling at it.

by the time you call it for the day, jungwon’s arms feel like they’ve been through hell. you take the gun from him without a word, check it over, and start packing it away like it’s nothing. he watches you work, still trying to make sense of half the things you said earlier about this upside down place and why he’s some sort of target. the whole thing feels like too much, but also not enough. you’ve given him pieces, but not the whole picture, and it’s driving him crazy.

he kicks at a bit of gravel with his shoe, not really looking at you when he says, “so… that’s it for today?”

you nod, slinging the strap of the weapon bag over your shoulder. “that’s it.”

“right,” he says, dragging out the word. there’s a pause, and then, “you know, you’ve told me about monster dogs and shadow worlds and how i’m basically on some kind of hit list, but you still haven’t told me your name.”

you glance at him, expression unreadable. “does it matter?”

jungwon stares at you like you just asked the most obvious shit ever. “uh, yeah, it matters. i’ve been calling you ‘mystery girl’ in my head and it’s weird.”

you raise an eyebrow. “and you think knowing my name is gonna make any of this less weird?”

“no,” he says, crossing his arms, “but at least i’d know what to yell if a girl tries to eat me again.” you watch him for a moment, like you’re weighing whether or not you’re gonna give in. then you finally say it, just your first name. jungwon repeats it under his breath, testing how it sounds. he nods once, satisfied. “okay. better than mystery girl.”

you smirk. “glad i meet your standards.”

he smiles faintly, but his mind is already working on all the other questions he still doesn’t have answers to. knowing your name feels like progress, but it’s a tiny step in a much bigger mess he’s only just starting to understand.

the next week goes by so slow that jungwon starts wondering if he’s somehow slipped into a different dimension where absolutely nothing happens. every morning he wakes up, grabs whatever breakfast is around, and heads to decelis’ hobby depot for his shift. it’s the usual stuff, his boss doesn’t notice anything different, his coworkers don’t act any weirder than usual, and there are no glowing-eyed demon girls lurking in the parking lot. after work, he usually meets up with jay at the diner or the arcade. they talk about nothing important, like sports and music and how jake needs to quit smoking. sometimes they drive around with no real destination, just circling the same blocks until it’s late enough to go home.

but even with everything feeling so normal, jungwon can’t shake the thought that something’s off. it’s not like he misses running for his life, but the silence is strange. last week his life was shadows in the street, teeth where they shouldn’t be, you showing up right before things went bad. now, nothing. no upside down weirdness, no cryptic warnings, no training sessions at the train yard.

part of him feels relieved. maybe this is it, maybe it’s over. maybe you did something to scare them off for good. but another part of him, the part that’s been watching over his shoulder for too long, feels tense. what if it’s not over? what if the quiet is just the part before everything gets worse? and he doesn’t write you, not that he has your address anyway. he doesn’t go looking for you, but every time he passes somewhere you could be, his eyes wander. by the time friday rolls around, he realizes he hasn’t seen you in a week, and that feels almost as strange as the first night he met you.

jungwon ends up at jake’s place on saturday night for their usual dungeons & dragons session. jake’s basement smells like weed like usual, and the table is already set up with dice, character sheets, and a mess of snacks that definitely weren’t approved by jungwon’s mom 2 years ago. heeseung’s lounging back in his chair, trying to act like he’s not three beers in, and sunghoon’s flipping through the monster manual like he’s studying for an exam. jay’s not there, of course. apparently, he’s “too old” for d&d now, which jungwon thinks is the dumbest thing he’s ever heard. it’s not like there’s an age limit on pretending to be a wizard.

the game starts off normal enough. jake’s the dungeon master, narrating in that overly dramatic voice he always uses, and jungwon’s trying not to screw up his rolls. their party’s stuck in some underground temple, fighting off a bunch of cultists, and sunghoon keeps trying to negotiate with them instead of actually fighting, which drives jake nuts. heeseung accidentally kills one of their own allies by rolling a critical fail, and they spend twenty minutes arguing about whether they can resurrect him. by the end of the night, they’re not much closer to finishing the quest, but nobody really cares.

when it’s over, heeseung offers jungwon a ride, but jungwon turns him down immediately because heeseung can barely stand up straight, so he grabs his bike from jake’s garage and starts pedaling home.

it’s late, the streets are quiet, and there’s that damp chill in the air that makes it feel later than it really is. jungwon’s halfway down the road when his stomach does that thing, that drop, like the moment before something bad happens. he slows down, scanning the shadows. no glowing eyes, no weird figures, nothing. but then he sees a tree off to the side of the road, one he’s passed a hundred times before, except now there’s a thin, dark slit running down its trunk. it’s not just a crack; it’s too clean, and it draws his attention. he stops, resting one foot on the ground, staring at it.

that’s when he hears a sound, almost like a whisper. he can’t make out the words, but it’s enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. he glances around, half-expecting you to be there, but there’s no one. he sets his bike down in the grass and takes a step closer to the tree. the slit in the trunk isn’t just dark, it’s pitch black, like staring into nothing. he squints, leaning in, trying to see if there’s actually anything there. the whisper comes again, just barely loud enough to register. it’s not english, it’s not anything, really. it’s just sound, and it feels wrong.

jungwon’s about to back up, deciding this is officially weird shit enough for one night, when something shifts inside. it’s not solid, it’s not air either, it’s like smoke but heavier, curling out in slow movements. and before he can even take a step back, it grabs him. not literally, it’s not like a hand shoots out or anything, but it pulls him in. one second he’s standing on the side of the road, the next he’s being yanked forward. he doesn’t have time to shout. his stomach drops, the cold hits him, and then he’s not on the road anymore.

the first thing he notices is the smell. it’s damp, metallic, like wet dirt mixed with something burnt. the second thing is that everything looks wrong. the air has this faint haze, and the sky — or whatever’s above him — is a weird reddish black. the trees are there, but they look sick, all twisted with these thick vines crawling over them, pulsing faintly like they’re alive.

jungwon just stands there for a second, trying to figure out if he’s dreaming, dead, or both. he mutters, “what the hell,” but his voice sounds weird, swallowed by the air.

his brain is moving in about ten different directions. part of him’s thinking, okay, this is definitely the upside down thing she was talking about, another part is wondering why the hell he didn’t just go home with heeseung, and somewhere in there he’s debating whether or not it’s worth trying to touch one of those gross vines just to see if it’s real. he doesn’t, though. he just keeps looking around, turning in a slow circle, waiting for something to jump out. the whole place feels empty, but not in a good way. empty like there’s something here, just hiding.

jungwon turns around, expecting to see the tree again, or at least the slit in the bark, but there’s nothing there. just more of the same dead-looking trees stretching out in every direction. no road, no bike, no way back. he stands there for a second, hands on his hips, trying to process it. it’s not like he thought he could just step right back through, but seeing nothing at all makes his stomach twist. he figures standing still isn’t going to help, so he starts walking. the ground is almost muddy, and every step makes this faint squelching sound. he keeps his eyes moving, partly to watch where he’s going, partly to make sure nothing’s creeping up behind him.

the weird thing — well, one of the weird things — is how familiar it all feels. there’s a stretch of road up ahead, cracked and uneven, and for a second he thinks he might’ve found his way back to hawkins. but when he gets closer, he realizes it’s not the same. the buildings in the distance have the same shapes as the ones back home, but the windows are shattered, the walls are covered in those gross vine things, and everything has that same reddish tint hanging over it. it’s hawkins, but it’s not hawkins.

jungwon slows down when he reaches what should be main street. the storefronts are there, the diner, the record shop, even decelis’ hobby depot, but they all look abandoned. no lights, no sound, just that faint hum in the air. he doesn’t know whether to keep moving or start yelling for help. both seem like bad ideas. still, the longer he stands there, the more it feels like something’s going to notice him if he doesn’t do something. so he keeps walking, telling himself he just needs to find the tree again. except there’s no sign of it anywhere. and now he’s really starting to wish you were here.

his brain starts replaying bits of the training you gave him. awareness, focus, keep your eyes moving. all great advice in theory, except right now his hands are empty. then it hits him: she left me that weapon thing. the weird slingshot-fishing rod hybrid. he pats his pockets, checks his jacket, and then it clicks. the weapon’s in his backpack. the backpack’s on his bike. the bike’s on the other side of… whatever this is.

“idiot,” he mutters under his breath. “absolute idiot.”

he’s still kicking himself when he spots something in his peripheral vision. a flicker of movement inside an abandoned car parked on the side of the street. the windshield is cracked, the paint’s peeling, and there’s a layer of grime thick enough to write his name in. he takes a step closer, peering through the glass, and before he can even process what he’s looking at, the door creaks open. a girl steps out. she’s familiar, kazuha, he’s seen her at the public library once or twice. always quiet, always polite, but there’s something different now. her expression is flat, almost bored, but her smile is not, it’s wide and sharp.

“hey, jungwon,” she says, her voice is too smooth, like she’s testing how close she can get.

“uh… hi.” he takes a step back.

she tilts her head. “i’ve been looking for you.”

“yeah, that’s not creepy at all.”

her smile widens. “you’re even cuter up close.”

jungwon blinks. “okay, that’s… weird. thanks, i guess? but also, no thanks. i’m good.”

she starts walking toward him, slow and deliberate. “you don’t have to be nervous. i’m not gonna hurt you.”

“see, usually when someone says that, it means they’re about to hurt me,” he says, taking another step back. “and just so we’re clear, i’m not really in the mood to be, you know, eaten by a half-dog, half-human hybrid today.”

her eyes flicker in a way that makes his stomach twist. “you think i’m a monster?”

“i think i’ve had a really long day, and i left my only weapon on a bike that’s currently not in this dimension, so i’m not in the best position to… whatever this is.”

she laughs, a little too cheerful, like they’re in on some private joke. “you’re funny. i like that.”

jungwon glances around, trying to figure out if running is even an option. “yeah, i’m hilarious. now, if you’ll excuse me, i’ve got to… go that way. far away from you.”

and he doesn’t even think about it. the second kazuha takes another step toward him, he turns and runs. his shoes slip a little on the cracked asphalt but he pushes forward, arms pumping, heart already pounding. behind him, there’s this wet, snapping sound, and then a noise that’s definitely not human. he doesn’t have to look to know she’s changing into something else. in his head, he’s cursing himself. all week he’d been complaining about how nothing was happening, how maybe things had gone back to normal. well, congratulations, idiot, now you’ve got a demodog coming after you and no clue where the hell you are.

he hears her or it getting closer with heavier steps now, claws maybe. he doesn’t want to turn around because that feels like the moment he’ll trip and it’ll be over. the panic’s starting to spike so high it’s hard to think.

then it gets too close. he can hear the breathing, fast and harsh, right behind him. he keeps running faster and he thinks, okay, this is it, this is the part where i die in some alternate dimension, and my body never gets found because it’s probably stuck in a tree trunk somewhere. and then there’s a sudden flash of light, bright enough to burn into his vision even though he’s facing away. the noise behind him stops. he skids to a halt and turns just in time to see you, standing there, weapon raised, and kazuha — or what’s left of her — slumped on the ground.

“jungwon! how the fuck did you end up here?!” you yell, not even giving him a second to breathe.

he’s still bent over, trying to catch his breath. “the tree…”

you pull him up with a firm grip, not letting go. as he straightens up, you can’t help but notice how much taller he is. he has to bend his head down a bit, eyes wide and breathing heavy, that mix of panic and relief clear as day. when he looks at you, it’s like he’s searching for something solid in this place that’s anything but it. there’s that desperate, almost fragile look in his eyes that makes something tighten in your chest, even if you’re trying not to show it. you can feel the tension in his body, but there’s also this flicker, like seeing you right now is the one thing keeping him steady.

you catch yourself softening even as you keep your voice steady when you say, “you could’ve died, jungwon.” there’s a crack in your tone you’re trying to hide, but it’s there because yeah, you really were worried.

he swallows hard, still catching his breath. “that tree… the one with the slit… i saw it, and next thing i know, i’m stuck here. i was just trying to find a way out.”

you give him a look, part frustration, part relief, thinking about how reckless he can be but how glad you are he’s okay. “getting out of here isn’t easy. usually takes someone who knows what they’re doing. i only came because i sensed you were trapped.”

he looks down at you for a second, and the silence stretches, heavy with all the things neither of you say. then, almost like he’s trying to distract himself from the weight of it all, he says, “you were worried about me?”

you avoid his eyes for a beat, then nod slowly. “yeah. don’t make me do this again.”

jungwon lets out this weird, half-laugh that sounds more like he’s trying to pretend he’s not freaking out, but you catch it anyway. “no promises,” he says, like that’s supposed to make everything better. you roll your eyes, but there’s this small pause where neither of you says anything. finally, jungwon breaks the silence, sounding like he’s trying to act calm but failing. “so… uh, how exactly do we get out of here?”

you glance around, your face tight with that mix of this sucks and i got this, but you don’t pretend you have all the answers. “it’s complicated. this place isn’t built to let people in and out. normally you don’t just ‘walk back’ once you’re in.”

jungwon scratches the back of his neck, thinking about how he left his makeshift weapon prototype on his bike, probably the only thing that might’ve helped. “and uh, speaking of stuff, i left my bag with the thing you gave me... on my bike. so, yeah.”

you laugh, shaking your head. “only you would forget the one thing that might keep you alive.”

he shrugs, “well, at least i’m consistent.”

there’s this weird energy between you now, not exactly comfortable but not totally awkward either, like you’re both trying to figure out if you’re just stuck in this mess together or if something else is bubbling under the surface. “look,” you say, voice softer now, you look around, weighing options, then sigh. “somewhere out there’s a way back, and we find it before anything else finds us.”

jungwon swallows, nods, glancing back down the empty street where the abandoned shops stare at him. and despite everything, he feels a little less alone because you’re here, even if this whole situation is the biggest mess he’s ever been in. and you start moving down the empty street together, the cold hum of the upside down filling the silence between you. it’s the kind of quiet that isn’t peaceful but not exactly tense either. your arms brush once, almost by accident, and both of you freeze for a second. jungwon clears his throat, trying to shake off whatever that was.

“hey,” he says, glancing at you, “i don’t think i ever properly thanked you. for, you know, saving my life. a bunch of times now.”

you don’t say anything right away, just keep walking, but there’s a shift. you can tell he’s sincere, and honestly, it’s kind of nice hearing it. he’s usually so focused on trying not to screw up, you forget he’s got this quiet, straightforward side that doesn’t mess around with small talk. then he stops, turning toward you with that look like he just noticed something.

“you got a cut on your forehead.” he points it out, not making a big deal, but it’s the kind of thing only someone paying attention would notice.

you reach up and touch the cut on your forehead, barely pressing against it, then shake your head like it’s nothing worth mentioning. but before you get a chance to say anything, a vine, one of those thick, dark things, suddenly snaps and drops right beside you with a loud crack. you flinch, stepping back without thinking. jungwon’s quick to grab your shoulder to keep you steady, pulling you close enough that you’re almost bumping into him.

you both freeze for a second after the vine snaps close by. jungwon’s hand stays on your shoulder, steadying you. you can almost hear your own breath, uneven and shallow. he looks at you with that kind of serious calm that makes it clear he’s thinking about what could’ve happened. “that vine thing could’ve hit you,” he says quietly. his voice isn’t loud or panicked, but you can tell he means it.

you don’t say anything right away. you just blink and nod slowly, still feeling the weight of how close you were. “yeah, it almost did,” you answer, your voice low. it’s like you’re still trying to catch up with what just happened.

jungwon’s hand doesn’t move, and you realize how grounding it is, like maybe he could protect you too, and not just otherwise. “you okay?” he asks. simple question, just concern.

you glance down at him. “i’m fine,” you say. but you don’t pull away. it feels strange, but not bad. and after a moment you step back and look around, trying to shake off the tension. “we should keep moving,” you say, voice firm now. “find a way out of here.”

you step away with a little more space between you. jungwon doesn’t move right away, just watches the empty street for a second. then he falls in step beside you, his footsteps slower, careful. you start walking through the cracked pavement, the cold air filling the space around you. the storefronts are all shuttered and broken, their windows like dark eyes, and the hum in the air never stops. every once in a while, your arms brush or your shoulders accidentally hit, and each time it’s a little reminder that you’re still here, together, stuck in the same mess. but it’s not like either of you talks much.

after a few minutes, you reach an open field that feels even more empty than the street. tall grass twists and bends under the strange light, and at the far edge, a dark crack splits the earth. you stop and look at it for a second. jungwon’s eyes follow yours, and then the sky behind the crack flashes red, lightning cutting through the thick, heavy clouds. the thunder hits almost right after, loud enough to make jungwon flinch. without thinking, he slips behind you and grabs your shoulder, pressing himself close for a second. it’s quick, but it makes your heart skip. you turn your head and see him looking at you like he’s not sure what to do with this whole upside down nightmare or the fact that he just hid behind you.

“it’s just thunder,” you say, voice calm but steady, trying to shake off the tension for both of you. you reach for his wrist and pull him gently toward the field, toward the crack. “we have to get closer. the way out might be there.”

jungwon swallows hard but follows, trusting you even when everything about this place screams that nothing’s normal. the red lightning keeps flashing in the distance, and the thunder rolls like the earth itself is warning you to turn back. but you don’t, you step into the grass and start walking toward the crack. he hesitates for a second as you walk toward the it, your hands brushing until you finally grab his. the grip’s firm but steady, like you’re the one holding onto the last bit of normal he’s got left. the grass crunches softly under your feet, and he looks at you, maybe trying to find some courage in that quiet way you have.

“i’m gonna push you back through,” you say without looking at him, voice low but steady. “i can only send one person at a time.”

he stops for a second, his fingers tightening on yours like he’s trying to hold on to everything at once. “wait, what? you’re not coming with me?” his voice sounds way more desperate than he wants it to.

you finally meet his eyes, like you expected the question and maybe you’re tired of explaining. “it doesn’t work like that. i’m used to this. i’ll find another way back. you have to trust me.”

he bites his lip, trying to keep it together. “but how am i supposed to know you’re okay?”

you give him a half-smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “i’ll figure it out.”

“you promise?” he asks, his voice quieter now, like he’s trying to believe it even if it sounds crazy.

“promise,” you say, and before he can say anything else, you push him gently toward the crack. his breath catches, and his hands drop like he’s suddenly realizing what’s happening. the grass blurs beneath him and then everything shifts.

he lands back in hawkins just where he left, the street exactly the same except for the missing slit in the tree trunk. his bike is still leaning against the curb, the worn-out backpack sitting there like nothing happened. he picks up the bag, slings it over his shoulder, and climbs onto the bike, the weight of the day hitting him like a slow wave. as he pedals away, his mind’s running through everything. the weird empty streets, the red lightning, the vine snapping, you standing close enough for him to feel it, the way you pushed him through that crack without hesitation.

he’s trying to make sense of it, but it’s like his brain’s stuck on pause. part of him wants to say it was all some crazy nightmare, the other part knows it was real, because he’s still carrying the cut on his forehead and that uneasy feeling that this isn’t over. he keeps thinking about you, about how you said you’d find a way back, and whether he really believes it or if he’s just hoping to hold on to something familiar in the middle of all this chaos. as he rides home, the quiet night wrapping around him, he tells himself to stop overthinking, but it’s no use. there’s too much that doesn’t add up and too many questions waiting for answers, and somehow, somewhere, he knows this isn’t the last time he’s going to see that cracked tree or the place it leads to.

the week after he got shoved back into hawkins, jungwon kept looking for you without even knowing where to start. he’d ride his bike all over town, passing by the park, the edge of the woods, anywhere he thought you might show up. it wasn’t like he had much to go on. just your name, and the fact that you’d saved his life more than once. he didn’t know where you lived, didn’t know what you did when you weren’t pulling people out of the upside down, and it was starting to drive him a little insane.

the upside down kept replaying in his head, too. the sound of the vines snapping, kazuha trying to eat him alive, the red lightning in the distance, the way your hand felt when you pulled him forward. he’d wake up in the middle of the night convinced he could still hear that low hum, and then he’d just sit there in the dark, staring at his ceiling. so in the end of the week, he was done keeping it to himself. he needed to tell someone, and jay was the only person who might not immediately call him crazy — or at least wouldn’t stop being his friend if he did.

they ended up sitting in jay’s basement, jungwon had been pacing for five minutes before he finally stopped and looked at him. “i’m just gonna say it,” jungwon said. “you remember when i tried to tell you about minju? how she—” he hesitated, lowering his voice even though no one else was around, “—turned into that half demodog thing and then just… vanished from town?”

jay didn’t even look up from the screwdriver he was spinning between his fingers. “yeah. i also remember you telling me she tried to eat you, which, for the record, is still the weirdest string of sentences i’ve ever heard from you.”

“well, this isn’t like that,” jungwon said quickly. “this is worse.” he rubbed the back of his neck. “there was this tree, out behind the road. it had this… opening. not like a hole, more like a… cut. i went through it.”

jay glanced up. “you went into a tree.”

“it wasn’t just a tree,” jungwon said, already aware of how bad it sounded. “on the other side it was like hawkins, but empty. no people, just… red lightning, thunder that felt like it was right under your feet, and vines that moved. alive vines.”

jay sat back, watching him carefully. “so you’re telling me you crawled into an evil version of hawkins, the plants were trying to kill you, and somehow you’re here telling me about it.”

“because of this girl,” jungwon said, and then, quieter, “she’s the one who pulled me out.”

jay tilted his head. “a girl?”

“yeah. her name’s—” he said your name like it was a thing he wasn’t sure he should hand over. “first time i saw her, she literally tackled a demodog off me, minju. and she started training me to kill them— well, actually not kill kill them, just knocking them out.” jay looked at him with a what the fuck expression but jungwon continued anyway. “she knows that place better than anyone. i think she lives between the two or something. i don’t know.” he let out a short breath. “but i haven’t seen her since she shoved me back through that tree.”

jay set the screwdriver down and leaned forward. “jungwon… you’ve been looking for her this whole week?”

“everywhere,” jungwon said. “but i don’t even know where she lives. don’t know her last name. nothing.”

jay shook his head slowly. “man, you sure you didn’t pass out in the woods again and just… dream all this up?”

jungwon’s expression tightened. “i know it sounds insane. but i was there. she was there. i didn’t make it up.”

jay studied him for a long moment. “you’re serious.”

“yeah.”

jay exhaled, rubbing his face. “alright. let’s say i believe you. what do you want me to do about it?”

“help me find her,” jungwon said like it was obvious.

so jungwon spent most of that week trying to make jay do the one useful thing a skeptic could do: ask. not because jungwon wanted to drag jay into some mad quest, but because jay knew people. jay always knew someone who worked the diner, someone who stocked the record shop, someone who could overhear gossip. so jungwon told the story over and over until it stopped sounding like a story and started sounding like a problem. he went to jay’s place at odd hours and replayed the same details again. he asked jay to at least put out feelers: ask around the hardware store, the bakery, the older kids who hang at the pool hall. he said he’d ask, casually, to anyone who might have seen a girl with no last name, somebody who helped people and kept to herself. that’s all jungwon wanted — a scrap of something to confirm that what he’d seen wasn’t just a string of bad sleep and worse weed.

the week stretched and jay did the small favors he’d promised, jungwon kept his routine because routine was something that still made sense: mornings at decelis’ hobby depot, afternoons shelving model kits and restocking paint, evenings trying to sound normal with heeseung and riki and jake at the diner or playing d&d. on the surface nothing changed. the boss handed out the same complaints about messy counters, the same customers asked for the same advice about brush types, and his friends kept making the same jokes about his “mystery week” mood. under that surface, everything turned. he rode his bike past the same streets he’d seen from the upside down and checked every place he thought you could hide and came up with nothing.

there were moments when he started to think maybe jay had been right all along, that maybe he had passed out behind a tree and stitched together a bad dream. those moments lasted about as long as it took him to unzip his backpack and feel the weight of the prototype inside. he had brought the thing you’d given him everywhere since the yard: a clumsy, half-finished weapon that somehow felt practical. it rode with him on his bike and even stayed against his ribs when he slept. having it was both stupid and comforting, but it was proof that it had happened, and a small insurance policy against it happening again. sometimes he caught himself patting the pack as if it were a talisman. sometimes he laughed at himself for doing that. sometimes he was ashamed for needing it at all.

on thursday, jungwon got home after work, the kind of tired where even pedaling the bike up the driveway felt like too much. it was already dark, the street quiet except for a radio playing somewhere a few houses down. he leaned the bike against the porch and stepped inside, the air in the house still and cold because he hadn’t bothered to light the furnace yet. he tossed his work shirt on the arm of the couch, walked toward the kitchen to grab something to eat, and that’s when the power went out.

it was instant. one second the kitchen light was on, the next it wasn’t. no hum from the fridge, no soft ticking from the clock on the wall, nothing. jungwon stood there for a moment, waiting for it to come back, and it didn’t. he went to his bedroom to grab the flashlight he kept in the top drawer. it was supposed to be right there, next to the stack of batteries and the random junk he never threw out, but before he could even pull the drawer open, something caught his eye: the christmas lights he kept strung along the wall above his desk had turned on.

they weren’t new, just the same set he’d had up since december, still plugged into the outlet because he never bothered to take them down. most of the time they just sat there, unlit, collecting dust. but now they were glowing, not in that steady way they did when he actually switched them on, but blinking in this weird stop-and-go rhythm. at first he thought maybe the outlet was going bad or the cord was loose, but after watching for a few seconds, he realized it wasn’t random. the timing was too exact.

he sat down on the edge of his bed, resting his elbows on his knees, and just stared at them. short flashes, then a pause, then longer flashes, then another pause. he counted them under his breath, then started over to make sure he wasn’t messing it up. after a couple of minutes, it hit him that this wasn’t just some electrical glitch. three short blinks. one long. three short again. he didn’t know morse code by heart, but he’d seen enough old war films to know it meant something. he stood up, crossed the room, and pulled a dusty boy scouts manual from the shelf. the cover was bent, the pages smelled like the attic, but in the back there was a chart.

he started matching the blinks to the letters, writing them down on the back of an old grocery list he found on his desk. it took a while, mostly because the lights would stop completely for half a minute before starting again, and each time he thought it was over, they’d go again. first came a long string of numbers, broken into two parts. coordinates. then, right after, two words: save me.

jungwon stayed there for a long time, the only sound in the room the faint click each bulb made when it turned on. he didn’t have to check a map. he knew exactly where those coordinates pointed. somewhere deep in the woods outside hawkins.

he didn’t waste time. he threw on his jacket, grabbed the flashlight from the drawer, stuffed the boy scouts manual in his pocket, he grabbed that weird weapon you’d given him, and took off on his bike. the air outside was cold enough that his hands started to sting, but he didn’t slow down. the streets were empty this late, and once he reached the edge of town, it was just him, the gravel crunching under his tires, and the occasional creak of the bike chain. when he reached the trail that led into the woods, he ditched the bike and started walking. the deeper he went, the quieter it got, except for the sound of his own steps. he knew exactly where he was heading, and the closer he got, the more the back of his neck started to prickle. the last time he’d been through one of these, it hadn’t exactly gone smoothly. he’d made it out, sure, but not because of anything he did. this time was different. this time he was going in on purpose.

he found the spot without even having to check the coordinates again. the crack was right there in the base of a tree, the air around it bending in a way that didn’t look right. it wasn’t wide, but wide enough for him to squeeze through. he stood there for a second, his hand resting on the bark, his other hand tight around the flashlight. then he took a breath and stepped forward. the air changed the second he crossed over. it was heavier, and there was that faint hum that never stopped. the colors shifted to that washed-out, dull tone he remembered, and the smell was different too, something like damp earth that had been sitting too long. the ground under his shoes was soft in some places, almost slippery, and he had to watch his step.

he started walking, but he didn’t really know how he was supposed to find you. there wasn’t a trail, and it wasn’t like he could just yell your name and expect you to show up. still, he kept moving, glancing around every few steps, trying to catch anything that looked out of place, though in this place everything was out of place.

the sound of his own breathing felt louder than it should have, and every time something moved in the corner of his eye, his shoulders tensed. he didn’t know if you were close or if this was going to turn into another long walk to nowhere, but he wasn’t about to turn back without checking. he kept going, deeper into the upside down. he froze when he heard a low, uneven noise, like something trying to breathe through its teeth. he shut off the flashlight, crouched a little, and waited. it came again, this time followed by a sharper, shorter sound, almost like someone had kicked something over. that was enough, so he started toward it, moving slow but steady, keeping his weight on the balls of his feet so he wouldn’t step on anything loud.

the noise led him downhill into a shallow dip in the ground where the vines were thicker. he could make out movement up ahead. at first he thought it was one of those creatures, but then he saw you.

you were backed up against what used to be part of a playground slide, the metal rusted and half-swallowed by the upside down’s mess. in front of you was something tall, wrong-looking, and moving in short, jerky bursts. it had too many joints in the wrong places, and it was blocking your only way out. you were holding that prototype weapon you’d left him before, except it wasn’t working. every time you tried to fire it, it made a small click but nothing else. the thing in front of you took a step closer, and you threw a piece of broken wood at it, which didn’t do much except make it tilt its head in your direction. jungwon didn’t think about it after that. he pulled the flashlight back out, flicked it on, and shone it straight at the thing’s face.

it froze. not because the light hurt it, but because it didn’t seem to like sudden changes. jungwon used those two seconds to run straight at you. you yelled something at him that he didn’t catch, but he grabbed your arm and yanked you sideways, hard enough that you both hit the ground a few feet away. the thing swung one of its arms toward you, missed, and slammed into the side of the old slide, knocking it off balance.

the flashlight beam swung across the ground, and that’s when jungwon saw a long, loose vine running from the thing’s ankle to one of the thicker growth patches. he didn’t know if it was part of the creature or something it was using, but he didn’t stop to figure it out. he grabbed the prototype from your hands, twisted one of the dials like he’d seen you do once, and slammed it down on the vine. it sparked, hissed, and the thing made a noise that was halfway between a growl and a scream before stumbling backward.

you scrambled to your feet, grabbed jungwon’s wrist, and pulled him toward a gap between two leaning trees. behind you, the thing was still thrashing, but it didn’t follow. once you were a safe distance away, you both stopped, breathing hard. jungwon handed the prototype back to you without saying anything, and you stared at it for a second before tucking it under your arm.

he looked at you, voice a little rough from everything. “what the hell happened?! i was worried sick about you.”

you took a breath, the weight of what you’d been through settling back in as you finally spoke. “i got stuck on this mission. that thing you saw was chasing me for days. i couldn’t shake it. ended up trapped, and that’s when i sent the lights.”

jungwon rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes fixed on you like he was trying to understand everything all at once. “how did you even manage to send messages with those christmas lights?”

you looked down for a moment, then met his gaze. “i have ways. it’s not easy, but i figured you’d get it.”

he nodded slowly, then his voice softened. “i spent more than two weeks thinking you were gone. i was really worried.”

you felt something tighten in your chest, the weight of that worry settling on you. you hadn’t expected him to care so much. “i’m sorry i didn’t come looking for you.”

jungwon shook his head, stepping a little closer. “don’t. you had your reasons. but i wasn’t going to give up on you.”

you looked at him, the way his words hit deeper than you expected. part of you wanted to push him away, to say it was better if he had given up, but the truth was, hearing him say he didn’t made something in you soften. it wasn’t just about being saved from the upside down; it was about not feeling so alone. the tight knot of guilt inside you loosened a little because here was someone who cared enough to keep looking, even when it seemed hopeless. you didn’t say anything right away, just let the quiet settle between you, a quiet that felt less heavy now, like maybe you could start to trust again.

the quiet stretched between you, your arms came close, nearly brushing a few times, but neither moved away. it was subtle, the kind of small closeness that means more than words ever could. you could feel the weight of everything unsaid hanging there. jungwon kept stealing glances, his eyes searching, almost hesitant, like he was waiting for you to break the silence first. the air felt heavy, not with fear but with a kind of quiet understanding.

you look at him, your voice quiet but steady, “thank you for saving me. you didn’t have to do that.” the words come out slower than you expected, like you’re trying to find the right way to say it without sounding weak. and there’s something about the way he’s looking at you now, and it is not just relief or exhaustion, but something that feels like he really means it. your eyes meet his, and for a second, everything else feels distant.

jungwon’s face softens and he nods, “of course i did. you saved my life more times than i can count.”

he doesn’t rush away or look anywhere else. instead, he keeps looking at you, like he’s trying to memorize every detail. you notice how his eyes move slowly, from your eyes to your lips, then back again. you find yourself doing the same, catching his gaze flicker between your face and your mouth. it’s quiet but heavy with something neither of you says out loud yet.

you feel your heartbeat pick up, and you have to remind yourself where you are: in the upside down, in a place that’s not safe, with this tension that’s definitely not just about survival. you take a breath and say, “we can’t just stand here. we need to find a way out of here, together this time.”

jungwon nods, still close enough that you can feel his presence without trying, and he says quietly, “yeah, this time, we don’t leave each other behind.”

you don’t wait long after he says that. the air in the upside down is always damp and heavy, like it’s pressing down on your skin, and you can hear things moving somewhere in the distance. it’s not safe to just stand there, no matter how much you want to. jungwon feels that too. he keeps glancing over his shoulder, the flashlight beam jittering across broken trees and dead vines, but even as he moves, he stays close to you, almost like his body doesn’t trust him to keep space anymore.

you keep walking. he doesn’t say much at first. he’s concentrating on the ground, making sure he doesn’t trip over the vines curling across the dirt. every few steps, he checks that you’re right next to him. not because he doubts it, but because he has to see it with his own eyes. the quiet gets broken by those weird animal sounds. distant, not too close yet, but enough to make jungwon tighten his jaw. he raises the flashlight a little higher, then lowers it again like he’s debating if he even wants to see what’s out there.

“this way,” you whisper, pointing toward a stretch of collapsed buildings in the distance. it’s not much of a plan, but jungwon nods like it’s gospel.

the ground sucks at his sneakers when he moves, sticky and uneven. every sound feels too loud. his breath, the crunch of glass under his foot, the low hum of whatever is alive in this place. he’s trying to stay calm, but his grip on the flashlight handle is so tight his knuckles are white. you get to the ruins of what used to be a gas station. the sign is tilted, half-buried in the dirt, covered in that dark pulsing mold. jungwon hates looking at it, so he doesn’t. he follows you through a gap in the wall. it’s just shadow and old shelves inside, but it feels safer than being out in the open.

for a minute, it’s quiet again. jungwon leans against what’s left of the counter and finally exhales like he’s been holding his breath since you started walking. you sit across from him, pushing some broken glass out of the way. his flashlight flickers once, then steadies again. he mutters, “stupid batteries,” under his breath.

you look at him. “you ok?”

he nods, then shakes his head almost immediately. “no. not really. but… i’m better because you’re here.” it slips out before he can stop himself.

the silence after that is heavier than the air. he fidgets with the flashlight, turning it in his hands, then finally looks at you. you don’t move away this time. your knees are almost touching, and when he realizes that, he stops fidgeting. he thinks about saying something else, but the ground shakes faintly and the sound is back, closer this time. both of you freeze. jungwon grips the flashlight, but you pull out the crowbar instead, steady like always. it passes after a few seconds. whatever it was, it’s moving in the opposite direction. jungwon swallows hard and sets the flashlight down, rubbing his hands on his jeans. “i hate this place,” he mutters.

you don’t disagree. but when you put the crowbar down and shift closer, jungwon feels his chest loosen a little. your shoulder brushes his, and you don’t pull away. you whisper, “we’ll find the gate. we’ll get out.”

jungwon turns his head, really looks at you. your face is lit unevenly by the dim beam of his flashlight, shadows moving when the light flickers. there’s dirt smudged across your cheek, and your hair is sticking out in messy strands from where you’d been running, fighting, breathing this awful air. your jacket has a tear near the sleeve, threads pulled loose, and he notices your knuckles too, scraped raw. he doesn’t say anything right away, he just stands there, staring longer than he should. his throat feels tight, like the words are there but won’t come out. he lifts his hand before he can stop himself, hesitating halfway, and then carefully wipes at your cheek with the edge of his thumb. it’s clumsy, not smooth at all, but gentle. when the dirt smears faintly under his touch, he almost pulls back, embarrassed, but you don’t move away. you just let him do it, eyes flicking up to his, steady in a way that makes his chest ache.

his hand lingers for a second longer than it should. he drops it finally, clearing his throat and looking away like he didn’t just cross some invisible line. but his head is buzzing, and he knows you felt it too, that small shift between the two of you. and you’re the one who breaks the silence. “we can’t stay here. there’s a gate nearby.” your voice is low, even, like you’re keeping yourself steady for both of you.

jungwon nods too quickly, almost grateful for the excuse to move. you lead him out of the collapsed building, back into the open, and the two of you walk through the heavy air again. he stays close this time, not bothering with the safe distance he always used to keep. when the vines twitch across the ground, he doesn’t flinch as hard, because your arm brushes against his every few steps and that feels more grounding than the flashlight in his hand.

you stop when you reach what used to be a toolshed. the floor inside is split wide open, a jagged crack glowing faintly, pulsing like it’s breathing. jungwon freezes at the sight, his grip on the flashlight tightening. it doesn’t look like an exit, it looks like a trap. “this is it,” you say quietly. “the gate.”

jungwon swallows. “how do we—”

“together,” you cut in. your eyes don’t leave the crack in the floor, but your voice stays steady. “it only works if we go at the same time. it has to believe we’re one person. if it thinks we’re separate, it’ll throw one of us back.”

jungwon blinks at you, caught between disbelief and panic. “what do you mean ‘believe’? it’s a… portal.”

you finally look at him, and there’s the faintest flicker of a smile that doesn’t quite reach your mouth. “you’d be surprised. just hold my hand and think of me as an extension of yourself. like i’m not separate. like i’m you.”

his first instinct is to argue, to ask a hundred questions, but he doesn’t. instead, he stares at your hand when you hold it out. he hesitates, only for a second, then takes it. your palm is rougher than he expected, but warm and soft. he tries to think about what you said: an extension of him. it sounds impossible, ridiculous, but when your fingers squeeze his, it doesn’t feel that far off. the truth is, you already make him feel like he’s not just one person carrying the weight of everything anymore. you’ve been the one showing up when everything else was falling apart. thinking of you as part of him, as if you’re connected in some way, isn’t as hard as he thought it would be.

“ready?” you ask.

jungwon takes a shaky breath and nods. “yeah.”

you don’t wait for more. you step together toward the glow, hands locked, the air pulling at you the second your feet touch the edge. jungwon squeezes your hand tighter, shuts his eyes, and thinks as hard as he can: don’t let go.

you hit the ground hard. not upside down ground, not that damp rotting mess, but actual hawkins dirt. the portal spits both of you out right in the middle of the woods, and because the universe has the worst sense of humor, jungwon lands flat on his back. the flashlight goes flying somewhere into the bushes, and before he can even register the fact that he’s free, you land right on top of him. he makes a sound that is not dignified. kind of a wheeze, kind of a gasp. your elbow digs into his ribs, and your hair falls in his face, and suddenly he is very aware of two things: one, he can’t breathe, and two, you are literally lying on him.

jungwon’s brain short-circuits. like, fully shuts down. he’s staring up at the trees, trying not to think about how close you are, but of course, that’s all he can think about. your knee is pressing into his leg, your hand is still gripping his like you never let go, and his heart is beating so fast it feels like it’s trying to climb out of his chest. if anyone asked, he would swear the demodogs weren’t half as terrifying as this exact moment.

you push yourself up a little, bracing your hands on the ground, but you’re still hovering right above him. jungwon can feel your breath on his cheek, and every rational part of his brain is screaming at him to sit up, to make a joke, to do literally anything that isn’t just lying there frozen. instead, he stares at you. wide-eyed, nervous, completely gone. there’s dirt on your face again, smudged across your jaw, and he has the urge to wipe it away like before, but his arms aren’t cooperating. his entire body feels like it’s been unplugged.

and then, because jungwon is jungwon and his mouth has a mind of its own, he blurts out, “your eyes are so pretty.”

the words hang there, stupid and heavy, and the second they’re out, he regrets everything. he thinks, oh great, perfect timing, very smooth. we just escaped a nightmare dimension, i almost died for the tenth time this month, and now i’m complimenting her eyes like some awkward kid. but you don’t laugh, you don’t roll your eyes or make some sharp remark. instead, something in your face shifts. softer, almost shy. for the first time since he met you, you don’t look like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. you just look at him.

jungwon swallows hard. his pulse is still out of control, but he pushes himself up on his elbows so he’s not completely flat on the ground anymore. you’re still close, way too close, and he realizes he doesn’t actually want you to move away. he hesitates, of course he does, but then he thinks about how you looked at him back there, how you never let go of his hand, how he never wanted to let go either. and before he can second guess himself, he leans forward just enough to close the gap.

the kiss is slow and careful at first. jungwon’s lips barely brush yours at first, so tentative it almost doesn’t count as a kiss at all. he’s testing the waters, ready to pull back the second you flinch or turn your head. except you don’t, you lean into it, steady, like you’ve been waiting for him to finally stop hesitating. the moment it registers that you’re not pulling away, something loosens inside him. he presses in just a little more, the kiss deepening, still cautious but real now. his lips are warm, unsure, and he doesn’t really know what to do beyond the basics. but the fact that you’re kissing him back, not rushing, not resisting, makes his entire chest feel like it’s about to cave in.

he’s aware of everything at once: the scratch of the forest floor under his back, the ache in his ribs from the fall, the smell of dirt and smoke still clinging to your jacket, but none of it matters. all he feels is the way your mouth moves against his, soft but certain, the way your hand is still locked with his like you’re grounding him there. when your fingers squeeze his, it hits him harder than anything: you want this too. jungwon doesn’t close his eyes all the way at first. he keeps flicking them open, like he needs to check that this is actually happening and not some cruel hallucination courtesy of hawkins. every time he sees you that close, sees your lashes brushing down and the concentration on your face, he almost forgets how to breathe.

the kiss lasts longer than he expects, and when he finally pulls back, it’s not because he wants to, it’s because he needs air, because his chest is burning from holding his breath too long. he’s breathless, dazed, and a little stunned by his own boldness. his face is hot, his ears even hotter, and he knows he probably looks ridiculous. he doesn’t care. his eyes dart over your face, searching, memorizing. he notices the dirt still smudged across your skin, the faint line of a scratch near your temple, the way your lips are a little swollen now from the kiss. and then he sees the smallest smile tugging at your mouth.

jungwon’s heart kicks so hard it almost hurts. he can’t look away. he thinks, very clearly, that if every monster in hawkins decided to come charging through the trees right now, claws and teeth and all, he wouldn’t regret this. not a single bit. not the fall, not the panic, not the upside down, nothing. because it led him here, to this exact second, with you looking at him like that. soi he is the one who breaks the silence first. his voice is quiet but the words come out fast, like he’s been holding them in his mouth too long. “this is the first time i kiss a demodog killer.”

you laugh, and it’s not the kind of laugh he’s used to from you. it’s not sharp or short, it’s real, and he feels it more than he expected. “i don’t kill them, actually,” you say, shaking your head a little. “i just freeze them so the government can deal with it later.”

jungwon blinks, staring at you. “every time you tell me something new about you, i just get more curious.”

you laugh again, softer this time, and jungwon swears it’s the first time he’s seen you like this. not guarded, not tense, just laughing, and it makes his chest feel weird. he thinks about how he’s seen you fight, how you never seem scared of anything, and now here you are, smiling at something he said like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “there’s a lot you don’t know about me, jungwon,” you say, tilting your head.

he doesn’t look away, doesn’t even try. “and i’m curious to know you more and more.”

you raise an eyebrow. “are you sure about that?”

jungwon nods immediately, without thinking twice. “never been so sure about something.”

you laugh again, that same laugh that makes him feel like he’s watching a side of you no one else gets to see, and before he can process it, you lean in and kiss him. it’s quick, almost surprising, and his eyes go wide before he realizes what’s happening. and then it’s over, just like that. you stand up and brush the dirt off your knees, then reach down and pull him up with you. his legs feel unsteady, and his brain is a mess, but he manages to stay upright. you look at him and ask, “you okay?”

he grins, still a little stunned, and says, “never been better.”

you shake your head, laughing again. “you could’ve died.”

jungwon shrugs, still holding your hand without even noticing. “at least we’re safe now.”

you squeeze his hand a little tighter and your voice softens. “thanks for saving me.”

he groans like you’ve just told him the worst joke. “stop thanking me. you’ve saved me like… two hundred and thirty-four thousand eight hundred and ninety-three times already.” you laugh again, louder this time, and jungwon just stands there, watching, thinking that if this is what it feels like to survive, maybe it was worth every second of the nightmare.

so after that night, walking home with you became the kind of thing jungwon never questioned. it wasn’t even really a decision. his house wasn’t far from the woods, and somehow it made sense that the two of you ended up there, hands still tangled like neither of you trusted the air enough to let go yet. by the time you reached his porch, sweaty, scratched up, and still running on the adrenaline of surviving, it felt almost ordinary.

it stayed that way. week after week, night after night, something would happen, some noise in the forest, some sign of the upside down bleeding through again, and the two of you would find yourselves side by side. sometimes it was terrifying, sometimes it was boring, but no matter what, you always ended up walking to jungwon’s place after. it turned into a routine. two shadows crossing hawkins in the dark, his sneakers scuffing on the pavement, your boots quieter but always in sync with his. jungwon didn’t think much about it at first, but he started noticing how natural it was. the way you’d slip your hand into his without asking. the way he’d hold it tighter when he thought about the vines or the growls that still echoed in his head. the government trucks passing through town didn’t scare him as much anymore, not with you there.

a few weeks later, you told him everything. jungwon listened. he always listened, probably more than anyone ever had. you told him about the infection, about how a demodog’s bite almost took you out years ago. how it got into your blood, how it should have killed you but didn’t. how you clawed your way back and swore you’d never let anyone cage you again. the government had tried, of course, they’d seen you as a test subject, a piece of evidence, not a person. you ran, you fought, you disappeared. and since then, you’d been finding others like you. girls who weren’t as lucky, who carried the infection like a curse. you froze them before it spread too far, handed them over to the labs, trying to save them before they lost themselves completely.

jungwon didn’t know what to say to all that. he wasn’t sure there were words for it. he just remembered sitting there, the two of you leaning against the side of his house, and feeling something shift in his chest. he thought he’d already been falling for you, but that night it hit him harder. it wasn’t just that you were strong or that you’d survived. it was the way you told him, and without asking for pity. the way you kept looking ahead like you weren’t afraid of what came next. jungwon had never met anyone like that, and he didn’t think he ever would again.

after that, the weeks blurred. you and jungwon fought off more things than he could count. sometimes it was a nest of vines stretching under an abandoned barn. sometimes it was noises near the quarry that turned out to be real, and sometimes just paranoia that wasn’t. jungwon wasn’t brave on his own, not really, but with you next to him, he didn’t hesitate anymore. he started joking about it too, making dumb comments to break the tension, just to see you roll your eyes or crack a smile. the two of you got closer in the small ways too. jungwon got used to the sound of your laugh, which was rare but addictive when it came out. he got used to you stealing his jacket when the nights got cold, and how he’d always pretend to be annoyed even though he liked seeing you in it. you got used to him cooking badly but always insisting on feeding you after a fight, and the two of you sitting in his kitchen at two in the morning, eating burnt waffles like it was fine dining.

jungwon thought a lot about how it all started. how he used to hesitate with everything, how he was always afraid to take a step forward. now, when you reached for his hand in the dark, he didn’t think twice. when you leaned against him after a long night, he didn’t freeze up. it was strange how quickly it became normal: two kids in hawkins, caught up in something bigger than themselves, making it through one night at a time. and he knew he was falling deeper. every new piece of you he learned, every scar you showed him, every laugh he earned, it pulled him in more. jungwon wasn’t the kind of person who spoke about love out loud, not yet. but he carried it in the way he looked at you when you weren’t paying attention, in the way he tightened his hand around yours every time you walked down the same streets, heading back to the same porch, like it was a promise.

by the end of it, jungwon couldn’t imagine his nights without you. not the danger, not the fear, but the part after. the two of you walking through hawkins with dirt on your faces and bruises on your arms, holding hands like that was the only thing keeping the world together. it became his favorite part of all of it: the walk home, the routine, the quiet proof that you’d both made it through again. and he knew it wasn’t going to be like this forever, but he didn’t care. he knew you were going to be together. maybe the gates would close one day, maybe the government would move on to another disaster, maybe hawkins would finally sleep through the night again. but none of that changed what had already happened.

the thought crossed his mind sometimes, how everything started because he’d gone on a date with someone else that night. if he hadn’t, he never would’ve never met you. he never would’ve seen you, never would’ve followed, never would’ve ended up here. isn’t it crazy just how fast the night changes?

but it will never change jungwon and you.

#RONNIESNOTES: heyyyyy!!! i had way too much fun writing this fic honestly and i’m still kind of shocked i managed to mash together one direction and stranger things in the same story lmaooo but somehow it worked at least i think it did??? hopefully you’ll think so too :) this is my first long jungwon fic (even tho he’s my bias (heeseung is actually my ghost and he haunts me) which is probably why i was so perfectionist about finally writing something for jungwon) and i’m really happy with how it turned out!!! i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

taglist: @rairaiblog @nqdirr @iyoonjh @saeris-world @jayparked @solonenova @izzyy-stuff @gh9sty @sonaki001 @xoenhalover @bambiens heejamas masterlist // latest fic

© all rights reserved @/heejamas — do not repost, copy, translate, or modify my works without explicit permission. these are works of fiction and are not meant to represent real-life actions, thoughts, or personalities of any public figures

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