#everything reminds me of her (the diner) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

andvys · 8 months ago

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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter five ⭐︎ 'Cause you know it could never be

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of the upside down, mentions of unrequited feelings, mentions of Stancy (I guess), but none really

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Weeks had passed since your conversation with Steve, and things between you have shifted into a different direction...

Word count: 8k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult shoutout to my bestieeee, thank you for helping me and for keeping me in check, I love u

Series masterlist ⭐︎ Previous chapter ⭐︎ Next chapter

♡

As the weeks passed, the warmth slowly started to surround Hawkins. The flowers have all bloomed, the sun is blessing the town with light and it’s something you greatly appreciate, knowing that things could’ve been so different had victory not been the outcome weeks back.

The day Steve had come by to apologize and talk, things had started to change between the two of you. While you tried to avoid him at all costs, fearing more confrontations and arguments, Steve had done everything to show you that he really wanted to keep the peace between you both.

You felt awkward around him for the first few days after your conversation, especially because it felt like he was walking on eggshells when he was around you, he bit his tongue whenever you tried to throw a jab at him, he looked at you differently, he was careful with his words and it annoyed you to no end. You never wanted him to feel like he had to be nice to you after what happened. Luckily, he couldn’t keep his act up for long, the moment you said something that was enough to set him off, you went back to your usual banters – though, it didn’t feel as rough as it did before.

You were also dragged into everything involving the whole group. It’s something you would have hated if it wasn’t for Eddie who somehow had nestled his way into your life and reached for the title ‘best friend’ before you could even blink. Despite the fear that still lingered deep inside of you, you let him in and you are glad that you did so. You really needed a friend.

But you are not the only one who grew close to Eddie in the past few weeks, Steve has also taken a great liking to him, and you now see more of him than ever before, because now it isn’t only the weekly movie or game nights that you spend time with him, it’s also Tuesday nights at the hideout, Wednesday nights at the movies, Sunday mornings at the diner and… you don’t mind for a single second.

You used to watch him from afar, now he is everywhere you go and while the relationship you two have isn’t exactly friendly, you still appreciate it. You’ll take anything you can get when it comes to him.

You eye Eddie through the vanity mirror, watching as he lounges on your bed, flipping through some old magazine he had found on your shelf. His curls are wild on his head, a little tamer than usual though, a few new rings adorn his fingers as well as the new shirt that doesn’t exactly fit the occasion.

“Eddie, you could have at least put a nice shirt on! A black one! Without a stupid band logo at the front!”

“Stupid?” He gasps as he sits up, staring at you, looking very offended, “let me remind you, Sweetheart. None of them are stupid, they are meaningful and artistic.”

Max scoffs at him, trying not to shake her head as you’re still using the hot curling iron on her hair.

“Right, because the music video of that Samuel made absolutely fucking sense.”

He drops the magazine and jumps up from the bed, his jaw dropping at her words.

“You mean Samson!?” He almost yells, “Biceps of Steel is a masterpiece, Red!”

You and Max share a look of amusement through the mirror, scoffing simultaneously.

“Yeah, you made me watch that video like four times,” she rolls her eyes at him.

Eddie squints his eyes at her, continuing his ramble while you smile at their bantering.

Not only did you and Eddie grow closer, he and Max did too. Eddie’s new home is close to Max’s, just like back in the trailer park. And the teen just loves to bother Eddie and Uncle Wayne, more so Eddie in the early morning hours, knowing how grumpy he will get. She still snaps at him and judges his ‘poor’ taste in movies and music but he only judges back, though playfully. They behave like siblings and you never get bored watching their banters.

Eddie is the brother Max deserved to have.

“Bla bla bla,” she rolls her eyes at him, sighing in relief when you finish up with the final touches.

“Who taught you to be so rude, Red?” Eddie shakes his head in disapproval.

Max only laughs in response, she leans closer to the mirror and turns her head to the side as she touches her curls. Her eyes meet yours and a smile appears on her face, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you smile as you put the curling iron on your vanity.

Max gets up from the chair, she walks out of the room and into the hallway, still limping a little but the cast on her leg is already gone.

“I’ll call Lucas and see if he’s ready,” she says as she walks down the stairs.

You turn to face Eddie, who is staring at the dress you are wearing, like he only noticed it now. The playful smile on his face is now gone, replaced by a teasing one.

“Got all pretty for someone?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You tilt your head and squint your eyes, “it was a formal invitation, Eddie! You just didn’t get the memo.” You point to his band shirt before you turn away from him and sit down on the chair, picking up your lipstick that you haven’t applied yet.

Eddie rolls his eyes at your words, walking closer to you, he leans down and puts his hands on his knees, staring at you through the mirror.

“Darling, apple of my eye, sweetheart, long lost soulmate… I am not buying shit.”

You keep staring at your lips, careful not to go over the lines as you apply the rosy tone to them, only when you’re done and you put the lipstick in the bag you had picked out earlier, you look up at him with a sigh.

“It’s the same as always, Eddie.”

“Is it?” He tilts his head, still looking at you with that same teasing smile. “Cause while you do wear all these trendsetter outfits, I never saw you wear a dress this… fancy.”

“Trendsetter outfits?” You laugh, furrowing your brows at him. “And fancy? It’s just a black dress!”

He raises his brows, stepping away as he looks down at the silky fabric on your form.

“A little black dress.”

“Well, look who’s the trendsetter now!” You snort.

He walks back to your bed, picking up the fashion magazine that has a little black dress on the cover. He raises it up, showing it to you, “Vogue taught me.”

Shaking your head, you look back at your reflection and add the final touches to your hair, before you apply your favorite perfume. You get up and smoothe down your dress, it’s beautiful and you have been dying for a chance to wear it. But your stomach suddenly fills with doubt because of his reaction. Are you overdressed? No… right? It’s truly nothing special. It’s just a dress, a little black and silky dress, nothing fancy about it.

Besides, Joyce invited you all to a formal dinner, after all. You can’t show up in jeans and a t-shirt, even Max put on a skirt today and that girl hates dresses and skirts with a passion.

But maybe Eddie was right, maybe… you did think of a certain someone when you bought this dress, and maybe you do feel your insides tingling at the thought of seeing him again tonight, maybe you did get pretty for him – even when you know that he will have eyes for somebody else all night. That thought makes you want to stay at home and hide from the world but you can’t back out now, you couldn’t even decline the invitation you got from Joyce herself when you ran into her at the coffee shop two weeks ago.

She is one of the few people in this godforsaken town that you have always liked. Finding out that she is now dating Jim Hopper – the very alive Jim Hopper, wasn’t exactly a surprise to you. You heard all the rumors about them, even before you were dragged into the mess your new friends had been in for the past few years. – The bored middle aged women who met up at the coffee shop every Wednesday afternoon just loved to talk about all the existent and non-existent relationships in this town and well, you loved to hear about all the gossip too, though you always acted like you were immersed in the books you had brought, you really never read a single line whenever they were providing each other new drama.

On the drive to the Byers/Hopper house, you picked up Lucas before you made a quick stop at the store to buy a cake, none of you wanted to show up with empty hands and you didn’t know what else to get – besides the little bouquet of flowers that Lucas got for Joyce.

As you look out the window, watching the passing trees, you listen to Eddie’s conversation with Lucas.

“You ever wonder how Hopper explained his return from the dead?” Eddie asks as he plays with his sunglasses, “cause I’m really curious.”

“I am too,” Lucas says from the backseat.

“Do you think he went with the kidnapping story?” Eddie asks, his sunglasses low on his nose as he glances at you. “Imagine he told Chief Powell and Deputy Dumbass about the upside down.”

“Don’t say that too loud, Eds. Or the suit wearing dicks will come back to take all our hush money back,” you snort. “And then you’ll lose your fancy house and your fancy Barbecue grill.”

He waves his hand at you, “I’ll take my fancy Barbecue grill and move in with you. I’ll still have a fancy house, rich girl.”

You snort.

“Oh, can I move in then too?” Lucas asks, grinning at you. “You always got the best snacks,” he points to the store bought cake on your lap.

“Eddie and I chose the cake together,” you chuckle.

“Well, duh, we’d make great roommates, sweets,” Eddie winks at you. “Same taste in food – but you still need to up your music taste.”

You scoff.

“Honestly, I think a girls only place would be so much cooler,” Max says to him, “just peace all the time, no boys, no stinky clothes lying around… just pure girls heaven.”

Lucas frowns at her, tilting his head, “you say that to your boyfriend?”

Eddie snorts at the offended tone in Lucas’s voice, while you shake your head in amusement.

The burgundy BMW is already in the driveway when Eddie pulls up, he parks his car behind Steve’s. You inwardly curse at yourself for feeling a rush of something just from looking at his car. You tear your eyes away from it and take in the beautiful sight in front of you, instead.

The light blue house has a big porch, flowers on the grass in front of it, a big willow tree on the right side – it’s so pretty and this neighborhood is a quiet one, it’s perfect.

Lucas rings the doorbell, waiting patiently with the flowers in his hands that Max keeps teasing him about, giggling and making jabs at him until he finally gets fed up. He picks out one of the daisies and turns around to face his girlfriend, he brushes her hair back and tucks the little flower behind her hair, which shuts her up immediately, her eyes widen and she starts blushing furiously.

You press your lips together, so you don’t burst into giggles at the look on her face.

Lucas sighs in contentment when she grows silent, he turns back to the door.

Eddie though, he starts chuckling.

Max clenches her jaw, she sends Eddie the deadliest glare you have ever seen. It only makes you want to laugh even more.

The door opens and you’re all greeted by a very happy El, a bright smile on her lips as she waves at you.

“Hi guys, come in!” She reaches forward to Max, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the house, “I need to tell you something.”

The two girls scurry away and up the stairs, leaving the three of you standing on the porch.

Lucas shakes his head, sighing, “you know, I wouldn’t be surprised if Max left me to be with El.”

Eddie throws his arm around Lucas’s shoulder as they both step inside the house, “every girl has a girlfriend, just deal with it, Sinclair.”

“What?” You laugh, following them,“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh, it’ll happen magically, Sweetheart. Once you have a boyfriend, you’ll also find a girlfriend.”

“That literally makes no sense.”

“Oh,” Lucas smirks, looking over his shoulder at you, “he means, once you and Steve stop acting like you hate each other and you’ll fall in love and get together, you won’t only have a boyfriend, you will also have a girlfriend which is his best friend,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes and ignore the way your cheeks heat up at the word ‘boyfriend’. Steve will never be your boyfriend, he won’t even be anything close to it. Hell, he is barely even a friend. He is your frenemy.

You open your mouth to speak when Joyce walks out into the hallway, smiling at the three of you before a gasp falls from her lips when Lucas hands her the flowers.

“Oh, you’re such a sweetheart, Lucas,” she smiles down at the flowers.

You feel a little out of place, being new to this group, being in a tight friend group for the first time in your life feels nerve wracking. And while you aren’t the only one, Eddie is definitely way more sociable and open than you are, where you struggle to make conversations, he rambles on just about anything.

But Joyce makes you feel welcome, she greets you with a warm smile, placing her hand on your arm.

“We got you your favorite,” Eddie grins at her, taking the cake from your hands so you can greet her properly.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have! You’re all so kind,” she smiles at the both of you, “come on, I’ll put it in the fridge for now. You guys go ahead, Jonathan and Nancy are in the backyard with Hop, the kids are in the living room.”

When you step inside, you notice the smell of food from the kitchen and the dining room, the sound of music playing from the stereo – Joy Division. You know right away that Jonathan was the one who put on the music.

You greet Mike, Will and Dustin who are in a heated conversation about something D&D related.

Robin walks into the living room, her blue eyes meet yours and a smile appears on her face.

You eye her up and down, she’s wearing black dress pants, suspenders over her red blouse. Your lips curl into a smirk when your eyes meet hers. She opens her arms for you and you hug her, leaning closer to her ear, “if I was into girls, I’d be on the floor for you right now, Buckley,” you joke, suggestively.

She gasps and slaps your arm lightly, “naughty.”

A giggle falls from your lips when you pull away from the hug, “it’s the truth, you look hot in this outfit.”

She shakes her head, biting her lip as she tries to hide the blush on her cheeks.

“You’re one to talk,” she whispers, smirking when she takes a look at your dress, “how did Munson not crash the car?”

Your lips part in shock, and you look down, “i-is that too revealing?” You whisper, tugging at your dress.

She starts chuckling, “no, I just mean because you’re so gorgeous,” she winks. “I know I’d crash the car, I’d be too busy staring at you.”

“Oh my god,” you swat her arm this time, “Eddie and I are not attracted to each other.” And you’re certainly not lying about that.

“Robin, I see her the same way you see Steve,” Eddie suddenly says from behind you, throwing his arm around your shoulder. “Difference? I’m heterosexual,” he whispers to her before he looks at you, “no offense, it’s not that you’re not hot, it’s just that you’re a little gremlin to me already.”

Your eyes flash with amusement and you put your hand on your chest, “I will take offense to that actually.”

Your stomach flutters when your eyes fall on the figure in the kitchen.

“Sucks to be you then,” he chuckles, “anyways, how’s Vickie doing?” He wiggles his brows at Robin.

You don’t even hear Eddie’s words, you’re already too far gone, staring at the one you had your eyes set on since forever. You don’t know how he always does it, but he looks so gorgeous. His fluffy hair looking better than ever, a smile lingering on his face as he talks to Joyce.

His white shirt is tucked into his dark brown slacks that he paired with a black belt. He looks like he walked straight out of a 60s movie and god, he looks really good. He turns his back to you, and you watch as Joyce leaves the kitchen, walking out into the backyard.

You don’t feel your feet moving, but you feel yourself being pulled into the kitchen, still admiring Steve – his broad shoulders, the way his muscles are moving underneath the shirt.

You are practically drooling over the guy, and you feel shame but not enough to stop yourself from ogling him, maybe you’d feel a bit more ashamed if things between you haven’t shifted into something else, you still get on each other’s nerves, the bickering is still there, poking into each other's ribs to see who bends first, but all that is never too much or hurtful. The scowls are there, they never left, the scrunches of noses, the deadly glares. But you noticed that the bickering had gone from yelling to soft talking. Enough for just the two of you to hear, no one else.

It’s all still the same… but it also isn’t.

And you can’t help but love it.

Steve is cutting vegetables and throwing them into the bowl. Your heart flutters as you take another moment to look at him. While the others are chatting in the living room and in the garden, Steve is helping Joyce prepare dinner. Cute.

You lick your lips, moving closer to him, you brush your hand over his shoulder as you walk past him, not even realizing how soft your touch actually was.

Steve tenses up, not because he doesn’t like your touch – but because he does. He likes it, even if he would never admit it. He recognizes you by the sweet and flowery scent of your perfume, something that makes his insides tingle in an unfamiliar way.

“Hey, Lego head,” you greet him, leaning against the counter next to him, “nice mousse on the hair.”

A smirk tugs at his lips, he puts down the knife as he opens his mouth to speak, though when he turns to look at you, his breathing stutters, his heart stops beating and his eyes widen as the smirk slowly falls – instead, his cheeks heat up and he presses his lips back together, gulping as he takes in the sight of you in your beautiful dress. It’s not any different from the sundresses that you’ve been wearing a lot lately, but it would be enough to make him stutter if he tried to talk right now, because somehow, you look even more beautiful, right now.

You turn away from him, looking around at the food he had already helped prepare, giving him the perfect opportunity to ogle you. It’s a good thing he stopped cutting the fruit, and put the knife down before he saw you, he surely would’ve chopped a finger off by now, and he’s not sure if he would have noticed because, all that he is focused on is how pretty you look, with your glowy, smooth skin and the makeup that you don’t even need, the dress that almost has him on his knees.

But he gets dragged back into reality when your eyes meet his and he remembers who you aren’t supposed to be – a girl who effortlessly manages to make him blush. No one has ever made Steve Harrington blush, absolutely no one, and he surely won’t let you be the first.

“Blondie.”

“Do you think they’ll let us drink?” You ask, looking around as you try to spot anything but soda.

Steve chuckles, shaking his head.

“Are you twenty one yet? No. What makes you think that Hopper will let us drink?” He picks up the knife again, forcing his eyes away from you.

“We fought monsters and had near death experiences multiple times,” you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, “will alcohol hurt us?”

“No, but it might turn you into an alcoholic, better not start with that, kid.” Hopper suddenly appears from behind, causing you to flinch.

Steve watches from the side, laughing at the wide eyed look on your face.

You turn to face the older man, scrunching up your nose when your eyes instantly fall on the beer in his hand, “oh, really? What’s that in your hand then, alcoholic?” You mock him.

Hopper shakes his head, chuckling.

“So that’s where El’s attitude has been coming from lately.”

“Told you, miss sunshine over here is a bad influence,” Steve jokes.

“Don’t know which attitude you’re talking about, I don’t have one.”

At that, both Steve and Hopper burst out laughing, the latter squeezes your shoulder as he walks past you, “you keep telling yourself that, kid.”

“Well, aren’t we celebrating something today?” You ask.

Hopper opens the fridge, taking out another beer after throwing the empty can into the trash. He looks at you with raised brows, a smile tugging at his lips.

None of you know what this celebration even is about, that you all got invited to – except for El, Jonathan and Will, of course. They know all about it.

“Yeah.”

“So… can’t celebrate without the drinks,” you shrug, giving him a sheepish smile.

You’re unaware of the smile on Steve’s lips as he watches you.

“You’re nineteen, wait two more years–”

“We fought interdimensional monsters, this one almost got strangled to death,” you point at Steve, “not to mention all the times he got his ass kicked–”

“You didn’t need to go there, Blondie,” he rolls his eyes.

“I almost died! A girl can have a drink, come on!”

Hopper sighs, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks between the two of you.

You are desperate for a drink, it’s been months since you had any alcohol in your system, and you’re craving the buzz, feeling careless and free. All you felt after the night at the Creel house was pain… and more pain. Your head was constantly hurting, your vision blurred every time you got up, the dizziness drove you crazy – it’s still there sometimes, but you feel better now, much better, good enough to have drinks again.

But the stubborn man won’t let you have it and you can already tell by the look on his face that he will say no. So, you pull out the big guns.

You smirk at him, tilting your head.

“My dad told me what you used to get up to in high school.”

He holds his hands up, squeezing his eyes shut in annoyance.

“Didn’t you and Joyce used to smoke pot behind–”

Steve’s eyes widen as his lips part in surprise.

“Get this demon a drink, Steve.” He waves his hand and quickly leaves the room, sending you another warning glance over his shoulder.

“Why me…” Steve mutters.

“Cause you’re maid material, chop chop, Harrington.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes again.

“Oh hey Hop, long time no see.” You hear Eddie’s voice in the living room, followed by Hopper’s groan.

If you weren’t so fixated on Steve right now, you’d be watching Eddie’s and Hopper’s interaction, right now. It’s never not amusing.

“You sure you want me to make you a drink?” He steps away from the counter and bends down to open the cabinet he saw Hopper putting the whiskey into earlier, he looks through the few bottles and reaches for the rum.

You watch the way he furrows his brows, licking his lips as stares at the bottle. He straightens his back and steps up beside you again.

“Well, didn’t you used to throw parties and mix cocktails?” You shrug, tilting your head to the side.

Steve watches you, the way your flashes flutter as you blink, the way you look at him so innocently, something that makes him feel… intrigued.

“I never got to taste it,” you pout.

He swallows harshly.

“I’m craving something sweet on my lips right now, so please… Can you make me a drink?” You ask with a sickly sweet tone in your voice, not intending these words to sound so… suggestive and you don’t even notice it either.

But he does, and he almost drops the bottle he is holding. Your flirty words make his eyes widen and his stomach flutters. It’s not the first time something like this happened, you threw suggestive words or glances at him before but all this time he was certain that you did this unintended – even now, because the look on your face is innocent, genuinely innocent.

You aren’t teasing, you aren’t even aware of how flirty you can be sometimes.

He turns away from you, walking over to the fridge, he grabs the pineapple juice and puts it on the counter next to the bottle of rum.

He looks up at the shelf, where all the long drink glasses are. How convenient it is that you’re standing right in front of it.

While you do everything unintended, he doesn’t. He knows what he is doing when he steps towards you. He looks down at you with that same innocent look that you just gave him, the only difference is that he isn’t innocent. He places his hand on your waist, testing the waters. “Excuse me,” he murmurs, squeezing your waist ever so softly. He reaches over your shoulder as he grabs the glass, he keeps his eyes on you, biting back the smirk when he sees the way your eyes widen and you visibly gulp.

Your lips part and you start blinking, looking up at him before your eyes fall to his chest and you squirm beneath his stare.

Got you. He thinks.

You stop breathing and your heart freaking jumps in your chest, his innocent touch is almost enough to make your knees buckle.

Despite the nervousness, you look into his eyes, watching the way they twinkle with mischief. Bastard. Is he doing this on purpose? Because he somehow knows that every slightest touch from him drives you crazy?

He takes way too long to get that stupid glass from the shelf but fuck, you can’t help but love the way his big hand feels on your body, or the way he is almost pressed against you, the way the smell of his cologne makes your stomach flutter.

And then, he steps away like nothing happened.

Because it was nothing… to him.

Even when there’s a hint of a smirk on his lips as he prepares the drink, you know that this was only because he wanted to get a reaction out of you.

“Here,” he slides the drink over to you, still smirking, “try it.”

You wrap your hand around the cold glass and take the straw between your fingers, stirring the ice around, furrowing your brows, “what’s this called?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, “the King Steve special,” he winks.

You scrunch your face up at him.

Wrapping your lips around the straw, you look into his eyes as you try it, the sweetness from the pineapple juice definitely overpowers the taste of rum, and you don’t know if you like it or not.

Steve ignores the way his stomach tingles from watching you – watching your glossy lips as they’re wrapped around the black straw.

“Jesus, that really is a high school drink, King Steve.”

He squints his eyes at you, “it’s a fucking drink, Blondie.”

“A horrible one at that.”

He places his hand on his hip, rolling his eyes at your words, but a smirk tugs at his lips and he suddenly leans closer to you to whisper in your ear.

“You really fooled me with that dress of yours… if only you kept your mouth shut.”

He wants to stay and keep staring at the shocked look on your face, at the way you grow so flustered beneath his stare. The smirk that lingers on his lips grows even wider when he sees the way your lips part but close again.

He left you speechless.

He reaches for the bowl of salad, “gonna bring this out,” he says, tilting his head into the direction of the garden, “they set up the table outside.”

You don’t even hear his words, you just stare at his lips before your eyes fall on the chain around his neck. You swallow and look down, hiding your flustered face as you take another sip of the drink.

Steve holds back the chuckle, he turns away begrudgingly and walks out, he would’ve loved to see more of that look on your face.

It takes you a moment to recover from whatever that was, you nearly down the King Steve Special in one go. And maybe preparing yourself a second drink is a mistake, knowing that you will probably feel more than just a slight buzz, you only had breakfast and you skipped lunch because you were too busy getting ready and stressing over your hair that never looks nearly as perfect as Steve’s does.

You step out into the backyard, the table on the porch is already filled with food and drinks, the smell of the Barbecue lingering in the air. Jonathan is standing in front of the grill with Nancy by his side, her chin on his shoulder, her arm wrapped around his waist, they’re talking and smiling at each other.

As you watch them, the sudden realization that you will never have anything like they do, fills you with a slight sadness.

You don’t envy them, you’re happy for them, you’re happy for anyone who gets to experience love. But maybe, you envy the love someone else still holds for her, someone you will never have.

You look down, frowning at your drink.

The teens all stumble out into the backyard as Joyce ushers them to the table.

You flinch a little when you suddenly feel an arm around your shoulder, instantly recognizing Eddie’s cologne, you turn your head to look at him.

“This could be us if you weren’t such a gremlin,” he says as he points to Jonathan and Nancy who are now kissing, in front of the sizzling meat that is probably now burning.

You squint your eyes, shaking your head disapprovingly.

You know he’s only joking, and it fills you with relief, because as much as you crave what they have, you definitely don’t crave it with Eddie. You crave to have this with Steve, and it’s something you feel stupid for. The guy may not hate your guts anymore, but he’s surely not your biggest fan either.

“You know, you’re a gremlin too, Eds.”

“That’s why we’re best friends,” he chuckles, patting your shoulder as he looks down at the drink in your hand, “what’s that?”

“King Steve Special,” you snort, offering it to him, “well, this one was made by me.”

“Can I try?”

You hand it to him, and his curious eyes widen when he takes a sip, “wow, that is uh–”

“Too sweet?”

He shakes his head at you, curls bouncing, “nah, it’s perfect.”

“Well, you can have it, I might get drunk if I finish that.”

“Already!?” He scoffs, shaking his head at you, “lightweight.”

"Uh, excuse me? I haven’t had any drinks in months, Eddie. Months.”

“Well, I haven’t had any in weeks, I’m still standing.”

“You only took one sip!”

He takes another sip and grins at you, holding up two fingers.

“Two sips.”

You can’t even help but laugh, slapping his shoulder lightly, “you are so–”

“Funny? Handsome? Perfect?”

“Too cocky?” Lucas says behind Eddie, grinning at him.

“Me and cocky?” Eddie raises his brows, “never.”

“Oh no, that kid is right, boy. You’re cocky,” Hopper sighs, “trust me.”

“Well, I am also very fast, Chief,” he smirks, winking at the older man, “but you already know that.”

Hopper’s amused face grows serious, a hardened look takes over and he grumbles something under his breath as he stares at Eddie. You can’t even help but giggle. – A sound that doesn’t go unheard by Steve who just sat down across from Robin, not even hiding the fact that he no longer listens to her rambling about some movie she watched with Vickie last night. All he can do, all he can see, all he can hear right now is you, just you.

The sound of your giggles is not something he is used to – he is used to your grumbling, to your sarcastic chuckles and the smirks on your face. A giggle? A very unusual sound to hear but something that he’s been hearing quite often lately. If your friendship with Eddie wasn’t so obvious, he might’ve thought that you took a liking towards him, but it’s clear that your friendship with him is just like his with Robin; Platonic with a capital P.

He can’t help but smile as he watches you, not because he likes you, god no. He just likes watching you. You are pretty, gorgeous even. He always knew that, even through his dislike, he always saw your beauty – he isn’t blind. And seeing you like this makes his chest feel… warm.

He eyes your dress again, the lace on the straps lay so prettily on your shoulders, the silky material fitting your upper body so perfectly, it’s loose on your hips, and it’s short, not too short but enough to make him gulp.

The chair scrapes against the floor, but even that sound doesn’t tear his attention away from you.

Nancy steps up beside you, exchanging a few words with you and Eddie before she turns her head into Steve’s direction, she lifts her hand and points at him, something that instantly makes Steve tense up, because not only did Eddie catch him staring at you, you did too.

With his cheeks blushing red, he clears his throat and turns back to Robin who is now rambling Dustin’s ear off. He places his elbow on the armrest, running his fingers through his hair nervously.

What is wrong with him? Since when does he spend time staring at you? Since when does he blush because of you?

“Here you can sit next to your favorite person, gremlin.”

He doesn’t know who he expected to sit down beside him, but he surely didn’t think it’d be you. He goes to lift his head when you pull back the chair. Just as he’s about to glance at you, he suddenly feels your hand on his knee and hears your groan as you stumble forward a little.

“Almost broke my ankle, for fucks sake. I’m sorry, Lego head,” you mumble, inwardly cursing at yourself for tripping over the stupid leg chair and using him to steady yourself. You remove your hand when you finally sit down, turning away from him to hide the flustered look on your face.

He blinks, swallowing the lump in his throat, he plasters a smirk on his face, “are you drunk from that one drink, Blondie?” He chuckles, watching the way you roll your eyes at his question.

You feel a slight buzz, but you’re not sure whether it’s because of the alcohol or his ‘flirty’ comment that certainly had no meaning.

Steve loves to flirt and he does it every chance he gets but he definitely wouldn’t flirt with you, no matter how desperate he’d be, you’d never be good enough for Steve Harrington.

When everyone is finally seated and the rest of the food is now on the table, Hopper is standing up with a drink in his hand, waiting for the teen boys to stop talking so he can finally open his mouth to speak. He tries to be patient, he really tries.

Joyce looks down in amusement.

Jonathan waves at Dustin, trying to shut him up, but the boy doesn’t see, too focused on the conversation with Mike.

“Mike,” El whispers, nudging him with her elbow.

He looks away from Dustin, and turns to look at his girlfriend when his eyes find Hopper glaring at him with that very intimidating look on his face.

His face grows pale and he slowly leans back in his seat, punching Dustin in the arm to shut up.

Hopper clears his throat, he puts his hand on the back of his neck, squinting his eyes a little. It’s silent now, except for the faint music that still plays in the living room. His throat bobbed as he looked around the table.

You can tell that he struggles to find his words, by the note that sticks out of the pocket in his flannel, you can tell that he had already prepared a speech.

Joyce gives him an encouraging nod as she reaches for his hand.

“I uh– I just, I thought that it would be a great idea for us all to sit down and uh… chat. I’m not good at all of this so I’ll just jump straight into it,” he starts, chuckling at his own words, before seriousness takes over his features again, “you kids went through a lot, you went through too much, every single one of you. But you were all so brave, you stuck together and defeated that… son of a bitch.”

Giggles erupt around him and his lip twitches a little.

“We defeated him,” El says, smiling at her dad, “we defeated that son of a bitch, “together.”

“Language, kid,” Hopper chuckles but he shakes his head at her, “but yeah, together.”

“The past few years haven’t been easy for any of you,” he continues, looking at all the young teens, at his daughter, at Jonathan and Nancy but also at Robin and Steve, and then he looks between you and Eddie too. “You all lost something or someone, you shouldn’t know what it’s like but uh, I guess in all of this chaos, you all found each other and I-I think that’s, that’s something, that means a lot.”

You can tell that he is struggling to say these words out loud, you hear the shakiness in his voice, the way he is holding himself together, the way he is speaking so softly because of how emotional he is after he spent the past few years in darkness after losing people he loved.

El and Joyce stepped into his life and so much chaos followed when he was dragged into a mess he had only seen in movies before, but it also brought him so much light and happiness again.

Just like it did for you and you wouldn’t change a thing about it.

If you had to go back and relive all the awful things you had to endure those few weeks back, you would’ve done it in a heartbeat. Because, despite the horrors and the darkness you had been pulled into, you have found friends, a family. You found a best friend again, Eddie who sits across from you, smiling at you because he too, found a best friend in you.

And you and Steve, you aren’t close by any means, but you are happy to have him in your life now, even if only like this.

“And I, I found a family and my uh beautiful soon to be wife.”

It takes a moment for the words to sink in.

It takes another moment for everyone to lose their calmness.

When the soft smiles vanish and the shocked and surprised looks take over your faces, Joyce and Hopper can’t help but laugh.

“W-Wait what!?” Dustin shrieks, “you’re getting married!?”

“Yep,” Hopper nods, smiling proudly.

El is smiling excitedly, clapping her hands together, like she is relieved that it’s no longer a secret, “and I can’t wait for the wedding!”

Nancy and Jonathan laugh at her excitement, while Dustin still looks between the older couple.

You glance at Eddie, who is staring at Hopper like he wants to say something but he bites his tongue, not wanting to ruin the sweet moment with one of his jokes.

“And we want you all to be there,” Hopper nods with a small smile on his face, “it wasn’t my idea to invite you all, just so you know.”

Everyone laughs at his words and the fake grumpy look on his face, by now you all know that the former Chief isn’t as mean and cold as everyone always knew him to be.

“It was his idea,” Joyce smiles, cheekily.

“Of course it was, he loves us!” Dustin grins at Hopper.

“Well, congrats,” Robin smiles brightly, “I can’t believe you’re inviting a bunch of kids but hey, I’m excited!”

Joyce gives her a warm smile, while Hopper grumbles something under his breath as he looks between Dustin and Mike.

After all the congratulations go around, Hopper finally takes a seat, pointing at all the food on the table, including the few pieces of chicken that Jonathan had burned because he was too busy making out with Nancy, telling you all to finally ‘dig in’.

The conversations flow easily between everyone and it feels familiar despite being new to this circle.

And while you and Steve don’t really talk to each other, you feel his eyes on you every once in a while. You feel his arm brushing against yours, his hands grazing your knuckles whenever he reaches for his drink – and every slightest touch shoots electricity through your veins and your heart beats a little faster every time his skin touches yours.

You curse at yourself for feeling so weak for him, for almost crumbling after only these small and very innocent touches, for liking someone who spent most of his life hating you.

You spend the rest of the night avoiding him, trying to lean away, trying to look at anyone but at him. And even then, you can still feel his eyes on you and it’s driving you crazy and you suddenly can’t wait to get away from him so you can finally breathe and stop feeling so delusional – his comment, his touches, his glances are all getting too much. If he was someone else, you would think that he was flirting but he is Steve Harrington for god's sake, and he would never flirt, not with you.

You feel relief rushing through your whole body when hours later, Eddie announces that he is going home, you almost jump up and bolt towards the door but your best friend seems to have other plans.

With his hands on your shoulder and an apologetic smile on his face, he opens his mouth, “Buckley is driving my car tonight, I wouldn’t want to put you in danger, sorry sweets, you’re with Harrington tonight. Don’t worry, you’ll be in good hands.” He winks and pinches your cheek before he scurries away.

Robin follows him, winking at you as she walks out with Eddie’s car keys, and the teens following her.

Max gives you a sheepish smile, mouthing a ‘sorry’ before she walks out, as well, leaving you standing in the hallway.

What the hell.

You have been waiting to get away from him, now you’re forced to drive home with Steve? No. Just the thought of being alone with him makes you feel nervous.

You look around the empty hallway, you already said your goodbyes to everyone and no one will care how or who you went home with. You can just walk home… by yourself, and you won’t have to suffer through another car ride with Steve.

But as you reach for the knob, the sound of keys jingling stops you from opening the door. You close your eyes, clenching your jaw. You don’t have to look to know who it is.

“Running away from me?” Steve asks.

You look over your shoulder, meeting his eyes and the smirk on his face. Hazel eyes glowing beneath the dim lights.

“Come on, Blondie,” he murmurs, eyeing you up and down as he steps up behind you, placing his hand over yours so he can open the door.

His hand touches yours. His hand envelopes yours fully. His chest is almost pressed against your back. Your heart flutters and your knees almost buckle for real, this time.

His lip twitches and he licks them as he looks down at you.

You tear your eyes away from him when he opens the door. You quickly step out and breathe in the fresh night air, hoping that it will calm your racing heart.

“I-I didn’t know you’d be my ride tonight.”

Steve watches the way your dress sways as you walk down the porch steps. Fuck. He clears his throat, but feels unable to look away as he follows you. You don’t even look back at him, not until you’re standing next to his car and giving him a very annoyed look.

“Is that a problem for you?”

“Maybe.”

He shakes his head with a chuckle as he unlocks his car.

“Get your ass in the car, Blondie.”

Steve doesn’t know what it is about you today, but everything you do, everything you say drives him crazy. That cheeky smile that you throw at him as you open the door, the way you tilt your head as you lick your upper lip before you say “yes, sir.” Has him clenching his jaw.

He looks up into the night sky, taking a deep breath before he gets in the car.

He tries not to look at you, but it’s hard not to when he for some reason feels some sort of electric pull towards you tonight.

He starts the car and pulls out of the driveway without another word.

Neither of you speak on the drive home but Steve can’t help but steal glances, while you are completely unaware of it, just like you’re unaware of how much your dress rode up, not enough to reveal too much but enough to make him sweat.

Steve is under your spell tonight and you don’t even know it.

The drive to your house is too short for his liking and unlike him, who seems to be eager to spend more time with you tonight, you seem like you can’t wait to jump out of the car and get away from him.

You open the door, mumbling a ‘thanks for the ride.’

“You know, I really didn’t think that you could dress like that, Blondie.” He says, intending those words to sound… flirty.

A laugh falls from your lips because of how absurd this is. He didn’t think you looked cute, he probably thinks you dress too feminine for the attitude you have towards him, that’s all. This new kind of teasing is hurting you, but you can’t say anything about it to him, you can’t say that this hurts you, that it’s making you go insane. He would ask why, and you would have no excuse. You can’t face rejection, at least not right now… So you play along.

“Careful, Lego head. You’ll give me the wrong idea and make me think that you have a crush on me or something,” you joke with words he said to you not too long ago. You throw a wink at him and shut the door before he can even open his mouth to say something.

With his hand on the steering wheel and his eyes still stuck on you, he breathes heavily, his heart pounding and his cheeks burning as he slowly comes down from whatever high he had been on all day.

He swallows harshly, but his heart fucking flutters when he can smell your perfume that still lingers.

He watches you disappear into your house and shutting the door without giving him another glance or something.

He slumps back in his seat, throwing his hand into his hair, he runs his fingers through it as all the events come rushing to him.

The teasing, the touches, the… flirting.

Steve is stunned by his own actions, by how he acted towards you today – something that you were very unaware of, something that he is now glad about… Yet, he can’t help but feel a little disappointed that you didn’t notice the teasing.

He doesn’t even know where it all came from but he blames it on his desperation to feel something again, something that he had been craving for so long.

He was guided by lust, not by interest.

Because in no way, would he ever be interested in you.

All he saw today was a pretty girl in a pretty dress, it didn’t matter that it was you. He just needed to feel something, and he did… by teasing you.

But it’s something that will never happen again.

He swears, it will never happen again.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munsonlore @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @ibellcipem

I'm sorry if I forgot anyone again (I'm the worst at taglists)

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #stranger things angst

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yaut-jaknowit · 2 months ago

Note

Hiya! Was wondering about a bad blood that takes a woman from earth but she's fine with it? He expected more fighting from her but is pleased. Not sure how you feel about soulmates but maybe he's been drawn to her for awhile and finally just took her?

Are We Meant To Be? Part 2

Pairings: Cew’voc (Male Yautja) x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 2995

Summary: So much time has passed since you last saw that mysterious figure. He saved you then abandoned you. You had discovered he was your soulmate too late. When all hope was lost, he comes back to you. Is it too late?

Author Note: Okay, I know this isn't entirely what you were asking for. But, I hope it's still okay. If not, let me know and I do another for you. I wanted to use this as an excuse to write a part two for this story.

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 1

All the years since that faithful day offered no relief. Since then, you’ve had your ups and downs. From ending up jobless and homeless, you were able to barely bounce back to a decent life. It wasn’t normal. It would never be normal again. Not without what you saw that night. Who or whatever that creature was… he was yours. As much as you were his. Two souls destined for one another.

The reminder made your heart ache. You gritted your teeth and rubbed the heel of your hand over your sternum. Some of your co-workers gave you a puzzled look before shaking their heads and going back to their business. You cleared your throat before squaring your shoulders to face the lobby and customers all over again.

A pain that’ll be with you till the end of time. You were used to it.

Twelve hours in the building was an average shift. It was the minimum you needed to work five days a week just to make do.

From living an average, normal life, meeting what had to be your soulmate had ruined everything. Despite the longing to see him, just a glimpse every so often, there was no chance. He abandoned you. It was unheard of. Usually soulmates for the first time they meet each other can’t leave each other. Some say its physical and others say its emotional. But to break apart within even the first day was beyond cruel. It’ll leave someone, yourself, broken and hollow.

That’s exactly what you are. A shell of the person you used to be. Now, here you were, a beggar for any change, even a penny. It could mean the difference between having a roof over your head or being homeless.

No one wanted you. Not even someone destined to be with you until you died.

The plates in your hand wobbled precariously. Your attention returned to your surroundings only to watch the four plates you had been carrying slip off of your arms. They came crashing down onto the ground. The porcelain shattering into tiny pieces at your aching feet. Food smears across the ground.

In the moments after that, you could only look down at the mess you’ve created. Your shoulders slumped. There was gasps that sounded through the lobby of the diner you worked out. But, you heard nothing. Stuck in your own world again while all you could do was look at the disaster at your feet.

This was it. Your last straw that broke the camel’s back. It seemed like you couldn’t hold down a job anymore. The pains in your chest only growing worse with the passing time. No one understood. This didn’t happen. Worst of all, it’s not like you had any insurance to work with. There was no help. All you did was suffer through the pain.

Over the white noise in your ears, you heard your name shouted at the top of someone’s lungs. Avery. Your boss. She came stopping around to stand in front of you with a heated glare in her eye. You simply lifted your head to look at her, dead and emotionless.

Her gaze flickered for a moment but returned to steel. One of her hands whipped out to point towards the door. “Get the fuck out of my establishment. You’re fucking useless,” she bit out with a ferocity you didn’t know she had. You blinked at her before finally picking up your feet and making your way to the door. Not even clocking out or taking off your apron.

There you had done it again. Lost another job. Useless. Just like she said. You couldn’t do anything right. Not even your own soulmate wanted to stay with you.

The concrete was harsh on your knees despite the jeans you were wearing. You had collapsed in the middle of the sidewalk. No one gave you a second glance; only giving you a look of disgust and going on their way. A broken sob left your chapped lips. The world around you closing in. You tilted your head backwards to gaze at the darkening sky.

It wasn’t long before day morphed into night. Sometime during the transition you had pulled yourself up and meandered along the path set in front of you. It was random and leading you further and further from the dingy apartment called home. The city you resided in offered nothing of relief. It allowed you to stay on a decently lit path through the side of town you resided in.

In your heart, something tugged you to stop. Your head finally picking up to find the street deserted. You had walked so far that not even those brave enough would venture out. A whine built in the back of your throat. This was pointless. Now, you were somehow lost. Your head tilted back to look at the dark sky. There was little to no stars that would dot the night sky. “What am I doing?” Your voice was hoarse. It lacked the warmth it had years ago.

All the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. The muscles that lined your back tightened. Your breath caught, body prepared for the worst while your mind hoped for the best. But, your luck has shown you how well that’ll go.

You neck creaked while it turned towards the dark alleyway. Nothing could be seen down the endless path. Either it turned off or ended towards the end.

A loud thump echoed off the walls. Your entire boy turned towards the entrance. The soft clicks of something entered the air. Your brows furrowed while you tried to deter was creating that noise. In your careless state and defense, you weren’t of sound mind. There was one thing in the world that would solve all of your issues.

It wasn’t here.

At the crest of the entrance, you eventually spotted the silhouette of a humanoid figure. Oh, not again. You took a couple of stumbling steps away and nearly fell over your own two feet. It seemed your lucky wasn’t the greatest.

Light shined off metal. Faster than a blink of an eye, your throat was snatched. Your back was pressed to a firm, hot surface. Humid heat washed over the top of your head and ran down the back of your neck. A shutter ran its course. The muscles in your body only tensing more.

Yet, in this moment, after everything that’s happened after four years… you didn’t care. Not any more.

Sharp clicks and growls vibrated into your ear. The firm grip around your throat tightened only fraction. “Mi-ne.” A voice growled that it could be felt in your bones. The declaration strong and firm.

A voice you recoginized. Your hands instantly go to the one holding you in place. Try as you may, you couldn’t tilt your head far enough back to look at the figure. But, the lack of an ache in your chest only solidified your thoughts.

This had to be him.

As your mouth opened to speak words he deserved, his free hand pressed something into your mouth. Two fingers coaxed you to swallow dryly whatever he had placed on your tongue. His palm still covered the lower portion of your face. You tried to speak and began to fight him. Anger filled your veins at not only past action, but his current ones now.

When the hands left you, you believed there was a chance for escape. Your entire body whipped around to face the towering creature. Only, for you to sway from the sudden, unwise move. Strong, capable hands grasped your shoulders before you could slam into the ground. A haze took over your mind and left you unstable.

The ground left the bottom of your feet. Then, you were hoisted onto a thick, muscular shoulder that dug into your waist and belly. The move caused you to wheeze and grab onto the a fish net like material that covered at least his toned back. “Let me go!” you screamed at the top of your lungs then began to beat on his back with clenched fists.

He takes it. Without complaint. The humanoid figure spins on his heel and lets the darkness engulf him again. Your cried for help and desperate attempt for freedom begins to fade. Whatever he forced you to ingest was starting to take effect already. Your movements turned sluggish. Every beat was weaker than the last.

“I… hate you,” was what you could say before the darkness consumed you. Your body falling limp on his shoulder.

Warmth. Comfort. Those were the first two things to greet you when your consciousness finally decided to wake up. A soft blanket swaddled your entire form and kept you safe from the lurking monsters. A groan left your lips. You squirmed in the swaddled you’ve been placed in until it loosened.

It took a monstrous amount of strength to open your eyes and blink away the fatigue sitting in your bones. What greeted you made you believe the night still claimed you.

Metal from ceiling to floor made up the room you were in. The blankets on your shoulders slipped off when you sat up to fully take in the space. Your jaw dropped. Five skulls were line on the wall behind you. All were creatures you didn’t recognize. You gulped and kept taking in the room. Weapons decorated some parts of the wall. A bean bag like chair was shoved into one corner. A fur like blanket draped over it.

That’s when you realize the blankets you had been covered with are fur from an unknown creature. You shuttered to think of all the death that was proudly displayed in here. Why… why would he take you in here? Surely, it wasn’t to kill you? No. Your head shook in the negative. He wasn’t. He would’ve already done that if so. Plus, something in your heart told you he wouldn’t harm you.

You were in the process of shuffling to your knees when the door slid open. The entire room filled with tension. It was him. Face still covered a metal mask.

He doesn’t move. The two of you engage into a staring contest.

Thoughts were running wild in your mind. From the last time you had saw him, there had been slight changes. Mainly scars. He was already adorned in them and proudly presenting them. But, more had been added to his collection. A nasty looking one started from an inch above his right collarbone and descended with small jags mostly downwards.

All of them… made him look good, despite not seeing his face yet.

Your first move was to tug the blanket tighter around you, like some sort of shield. He wasn’t terrifying. Not an ounce of fear in your heart at the sight of his towering form.

But, you were nervous, unsure of the whole situation. The most of all. You were angry. Four years. It’s taken him four years to come back into your life and decide you were worth something after all. Tears pooled in your eyes at the thought.

A glare set over your features. You sat back down on your butt and looked away from him. The creature doesn’t deserve your attention, let alone a second of your time. For all you could care, you were going to completely ignore him until he gives up. Let him feel the pain of being abandoned by the one you thought was supposed to your other half.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched at the mustard yellow figure stalked forward. Your ears strained to listen to each step as he made his way towards you. You strengthened your walls. The beast stopped at the edge of the mattress and gazed down at your figure. Then, he gingerly sat down a couple of feet away from you.

His scaly hand reached out timidly. A move you observed closely. When he got in range, you swatted at the approaching limp. The creature snatched his hand back and made an offended noise. You didn’t need to see his eyes to know he was looking at you as if you had grown a second head. To go against someone three times your mass was obviously stupid. Yet, here you were, protecting yourself from his touch in what could be taken in an aggressive matter.

Except, he held back and took the sign completely. The figure bowed his head. “I-I kn-ow… you are u-pset.” It sounded like he was struggling to speak English. Not as it’s a language he does not know, but like his mouth and throat can’t make the sounds well. “I have reasons. I-it shouldn’t b-e possi-ble. Can’t be.”

If his words were meant to be soothing he was doing the opposite. You hugged your knees tighter with a scoff and a roll of your eyes. You wanted to ask him the reasoning but felt like that would give him too much attention. Despite what your soul wanted since it finally get’s to see your other half again after so long.

“It’s wr-ong. You’re ooman. I’m…” he trails off and glances over at your curled up form. A position meant to protect you from incoming harm. “I’m not.”

For him to confirm your suspicions, you weren’t surprised. Not after finally getting to see him in a better light. The dark, mustard yellow of his skin was dotted with scales. The color and texture wasn’t normal. The size of him wasn’t normal. The blonde rubbery-like dreads that poured from his head weren’t normal.

“I-it’s aga-against ev-everything I know. I came back. I sh-shouldn’t have.” The masked creature made a noise of agony. One of his hands came to rub at his sterum. “But the pa-in. A-after s-so long. I grew weak. Co-uldn’t handle it. I-I ne-needed to lay e-eyes on you.” Words kept tumbling from him. Words you barely understood while he struggled with your language.

They almost, almost softened you. The same pain you endured the last four years was what he experienced as well. But, there was a difference. He purposefully abandoned you. He deserved the pain. You, on the other hand, did not.

You were only human, after all. “Where am I?” Your voice was barely about a hoarse croak.

He perked, only slight, at the sound. “My s-hip. I’ve h-idden us-us from your go-vern-ment senses behind a plan-et you ca-ll Jupiter.” Him clarifying he was an alien though, wasn’t on your list of possibilities. At least, not very high. The most you thought of him was a mutated, escaped human experiment. Not… that.

“Y-you’re an alien?” you gaped before reeling in your shock. There was no reason him to give the benefit of the doubt. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you.

“Yes,” he confirmed and dipped his head. The strange, rubbery dreads slipped over his shoulders to sway. “I a-m a Yautja. No-t t-that you know w-hat that is.” You bristle at his offensive words and sent a heated glare at the alien. He brushed it off with a shrug. “My name is Cew’voc. A-and yours?” You turned your head away again as your answer. He has not earned that right to know you.

Newly named Cew’voc purred with mirth. It took every ounce of will not to spin around and punch him. How dare he laugh!

“That is-is okay. I-I can just look-k it up.” Whatever he had for a face, there had to be a smirk on it. You could hear it. You bristled against and huffed. This surely couldn’t be your soulmate.

A new silence fell over the two of you. For a moment, tense peace. Until you heard a mechanical hiss. Your head whipped over to find Cew’voc’s hands gripping the metal mask that adorned his face. Carefully, the alien tugged the cover free and let his features be revealed.

Alien. He was completely alien. Three mandibles tipped with sharp fangs protruded from where what looked to be a mouth. The mouth area had an animal like jowl but the front area was open. Similar to a person, he had a jaw. Teeth protruded from both the jaw and upper side of the mouth. Terrifying teeth that looked deadly.

Then, his eyes. Those felt like a predator was staring directly into your soul. You couldn’t help the shutter than ran its course. They were a bright, scary yellow that almost seemed to glow in the calm lighting of the room.

After you exploration of his face, you find the alien with its only upper mandible quirked up. As if he was smirking at you. You glowered.

In broken, struggling English, the Yautja spoke your name. You swiftly got on your knees to be the same height as him and pointed a finger at him. “You don’t deserve the right to say my name! You abandoned me,” you grounded out. Cew’voc simply raised a brow in your direction then amusedly shook his head. “Oh, no you don’t! You don’t get to brush me off like that. Four years of misery because of your scared little ass running away.”

Now, that got a reaction out of him. The alien stood up to a lumbering height above you and glared down at you over his mandibles. “I am n-o co-coward. I’m Yautja. S-strong, mi-ghty.” He thumped a fist over his chest. “Do not a-cused me with fa-lsehood.”

You didn’t fear him. Not one bit. You stood up to be eye with him on the bed and got into his face. “Yes. The fuck. You are! You ran away with your tail between your legs like a little sissy crying to your mom!” Despite nearing twenty-three, you used some middle school insults that hopefully did the trick.

The anger that covered his features melted away when he slumped back with another smirk. “Oh, we may g-et alon-g yet.”

Oh, you doubted that.

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #predator x reader #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader

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steddiealltheway · 1 year ago

Text

(happy happy happy happy happy birth-dae to @strawberryspence ilysm my Wendy’s frosty and chicken tenders friend. I hope you enjoy 💛🍓)

Steve was having one of those days. Then again, he seemed to have a lot of those after two run-ins with an evil alternate dimension combined with the aftermath of his "bullshit" relationship with Nancy. Luckily his parents weren't home to add to the general mood of things, but that just left him with a too big, empty house.

As soon as he got inside, he turned around and went back to his car. He knew where to go.

The drive was on the longer side, but Steve didn't mind. He felt like he could finally breathe when he saw the Leaving Hawkins sign. A few miles later, he pulled into one of the spaces beside a small diner.

He walked in and waved to Linda who smiled sweetly at him. He remembered a few years ago when he had first met her after taking his dad's keys and driving far away from his parents. Linda had given him a free meal and lingered around, letting him rant and not judging him for the things he said about his asshole parents and friends. She had simply listened and told him that he reminded her of her son when he was younger.

When Steve eventually left, Linda had told him that he could stop by anytime, and she would likely be there. She also hinted that maybe he should take a bus next time because he looked a little too young to drive. Steve had blushed and ducked his head at the comment, but Linda had just laughed and told him things would get better.

And it seemed like every time Steve came back, things would eventually get better.

But he can't help but feel a little jilted when he notices that his corner booth which is always available is suddenly not. He can't see whoever is sitting there as they face away from the door. Their shoulder-length curly hair sticks out to him, but he wonders if that has to do with Nancy.

He knows he should just find another booth or table or even sit at the bar, but Steve can't help but wonder who is sitting at his table. So, he approaches them slowly, noticing how they're bent over some book or something scribbling away only with a pink-tinted milkshake on the table.

He clears his throat when he gets closer, and the person looks up with big, brown eyes curious at first before becoming closed off.

"Munson," Steve says, not sure what emotion he's feeling because he was the last person he imagined to be here.

"Harrington," Eddie replies, sounding a bit irritated.

Steve frowns. "Why are you sitting at my table?"

Eddie looks around before saying, "Funny, I didn't see a sign."

"You know what I mean."

Eddie closes the notebook in front of him before he leans back and crosses his arms. "Do I?"

Steve runs a hand through his hair and rests his hands on his hips. "I sit here every time I come here."

The corner of Eddie's mouth quirks up into a small smirk. "Thanks for explaining, but I'm not moving for you, Your Highness." He tilts his head down in a mock bow that irks Steve.

"Thankfully, you’re not sitting in my side of the booth," Steve says as he slides into the bench on the opposite side of Eddie.

Eddie looks at him blankly for a few seconds and takes a sip of his milkshake. He swallows and says, "Just don't dump this on me, okay?"

"Why would I do that?"

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Why would King Steve humiliate The Freak? What a great question."

Steve frowns. "I haven't done anything to you before."

"And nothing is stopping you now."

Steve snorts. "It sounds like you almost want me to. Which I won't by the way. If that was seriously something you were worried about."

Eddie narrows his eyes at him as if expecting something as he clutches his notebook a little tighter.

Steve gestures toward it. "What that?"

Eddie frowns and looks down at the book. "You wouldn't care."

"Try me."

Once again, Eddie stares at him. This time Linda interrupts as she slides a burger with fries in front of Steve. "Everything okay here?"

Eddie and Steve both nod, but Linda raises her eyebrows at Steve as if saying behave.

Steve takes the message and kindly pushes the plate a little toward Eddie saying, "You can take a fry if you want."

Eddie stares at the plate and considers it.

"I promise in the time Linda brought it to me and I pushed it to you, I didn't poison it." Eddie still doesn't take a fry, so Steve reaches over, grabs one, and takes a bite. "See?"

Eddie looks at him and says, "Can never be too sure." But he takes a fry and dips it in his milkshake before taking a bite.

Steve's eyebrows furrow.

Eddie does the same thing with the other half of his fry and asks, "What?"

Steve grabs another fry. "What flavor milkshake is that?"

"Strawberry."

Steve frowns again as Eddie sighs. "I get a fry in a vanilla milkshake maybe, but strawberry?"

"Don't knock it before you try it," Eddie says pushing the glass toward him.

Steve stares at it tentatively.

"Unless you're afraid of double dipping after a freak."

With that comment, Steve looks Eddie in the eye, dips a fry into the shake, and bites into it. And it's not... unpleasant. He even takes the other half and tries more. "It's not bad. But I'm still confused about the choice of a strawberry milkshake."

It seems to be the wrong thing to say as Eddie retreats back into his shell a bit.

"I'm just more of a vanilla or chocolate guy," Steve tries to clear the air.

Eddie glances up and shrugs. "I used to get one here with my mom."

"Not anymore?" Steve can't help but ask.

"Considering that she's six feet under, no"

Steve's heart jumps at the response. He doesn't really know what to do other than reach over and rest a hand over where Eddie's rests. "I'm sorry."

Eddie glances down at their hands and shrugs. "Happened a long time ago. There's no need for all that."

Steve squeezes his hand one more time before pulling back. "Still sucks," he comments before biting into his burger.

"It is what it is." Eddie looks away and shakes his head before stating, "So, you've obviously been here often. When did that start?"

Steve finishes his bite and shrugs. "A few years ago. I tried to run - or rather drive - away from home. But I ended up here. I've been back whenever I need a break and to know that things will get better."

"How are things looking right now?"

"Better," Steve says with a small smile. He pushes his plate toward Eddie again. He takes the hint and grabs another fry.

"You know, chicken tenders taste pretty good with the milkshake too."

Steve laughs. "I'll have to take your word for it."

Eddie smiles, revealing his dimples, and Steve can't drag his eyes away.

Steve finishes his burger as Eddie makes a dent in his fries - not that he minds. The silence between them is nice, comfortable even. Steve's not sure the last time he's had a moment like this with someone.

Eddie glances up at him and hesitantly asks, "Did you really want to know what the notebook's for?"

Steve nods and leans across the table to get a better look as Eddie opens it up, explaining his D&D plans and showing off his drawings. As he flips the page and reveals a drawing of the Demogorgan, Steve slips out of the booth and sits next to Eddie, getting a closer look. "That's not what I expected it to look like."

Eddie looks at him. "You know what the Demogorgan is?"

"I kind of babysit these kids who play Dungeons and Dragons, so yeah. I know of it," Steve somewhat lies.

Eddie continues to stare at him in disbelief, and Steve finally realizes how close they are. He finds that he doesn't mind the small distance between them, and he especially doesn't mind the way Eddie's cheeks get a little pink before he turns away to flip through more pages.

And as much as Steve is impressed by all the effort and obvious talent that went into his notebook, he can't help but get a little distracted by Eddie himself.

He doesn't leave his side of the booth, opting to keep the close proximity, knees knocking into each other and fingers brushing as they reach for the plate of fries.

Steve doesn't want to leave his little booth, and he doesn't think he wants to come back later if Eddie won't be there.

But as it starts to get darker outside, Eddie glances at his watch and curses, "Shit, I need to get home before my uncle leaves for work."

"You can leave now, I'll pay for your shake."

Eddie looks at him, and sighs, "Thank you." He squeezes Steve's hand before they both scoot out of the booth.

They both have a moment where they linger and stare at each other, unsure of what happens next. They both know the dumb social hierarchy at their school and even with Steve's fallen status, Eddie's friends would never accept him. So maybe this is it.

"I'll see you around," Steve says, laying a hand on Eddie's arm and squeezing, lingering a little longer than he should.

"I'll see you around," Eddie echoes, hesitating for a moment before leaving.

Steve lets out a deep breath as he sees him walk out the door. Things will be better. They have to be.

-:-:-:-:-:-

This is definitely not the way Steve thought Eddie would be reintroduced into his life, and more than anything, he wishes Eddie wasn't involved in this. He just wants to go back to the sanctuary that is Linda's Diner. And he wants her to tell him that everything will be better.

Instead, he instructs Dustin to grab Eddie a strawberry milk from the store, and later grumbles without being able to explain why when Dustin comes back with a Yoohoo.

"Who the hell drinks strawberry milk? Chocolate milk is the obvious choice," Dustin defends.

Steve's heart tugs a little when he remembers having nearly an identical conversation.

-:-:-:-:-:-

(Ending 1)

Steve wipes at his tears as he drives away from Hawkins, getting stuck in the traffic almost immediately as everyone tries to get away from the cursed town.

He can’t do this right now. He doesn’t want to be given time to think about Eddie.

He pulls over to the shoulder and speeds along, ignoring all the car horns going off as he passes. He just needs to get to the diner.

A few miles later, he quickly turns into a space next to the small building and gets out quickly, rushing inside to his little sanctuary.

But as he stares at his table, he only gets memories of Eddie sitting across from him and next to him. And he feels like he can’t breathe here anymore.

But he still sits down in the booth, taking Eddie’s side instead, facing away from anyone who might enter.

He can’t be gone.

He sits in silence, staring at the place where Eddie’s notebook used to lay, where they shared a plate of fries, where Eddie’s strawberry milkshake used to sit.

A plate is slid in front of him, and Linda appears quietly at his side, knowing that he doesn’t want to talk about it. But when she slides a singular strawberry milkshake in front of him, he finally breaks down.

Maybe the town of Hawkins wasn’t just cursed. Maybe strawberry milkshakes were too.

-:-:-:-:-:-

(Ending 2. Aka an apology for ending 1)

Steve can’t sit still in the waiting room of the hospital. He has too much that was left unsaid. Too much at stake. But the doctors say it’s touch and go. And he has to wait.

Steve finally sees Eddie’s uncle, someone who was mentioned to him forever ago but has appeared sporadically in Steve’s thoughts. He wondered where Eddie’s dad was. Why he lived with his uncle. If his uncle was kind to him. If his uncle was on his dad’s or mom’s side. How he took the news when Eddie’s mom died. When he took Eddie in.

There were so many questions that were left unanswered because Steve was a coward. God, he wishes he would’ve seen that there were bigger, more important things than the school hierarchy. But even when he was fallen, there was a reputation he needed to somewhat uphold.

Steve doesn’t know how much longer he can take the waiting and thinking. He just needs a break from it all. He needs… Linda’s Diner.

He jostles Dustin awake and lets him know that he’ll be back in a while. Dustin just kind of gives him a look before shrugging and mumbling, “Okay.”

Robin grabs his hand, asking if he needs her to go with him. But he shakes his head and lets her know he’d rather her stay here and update him when he comes back.

He leaves the hospital quickly, racing to his car and speeding down the roads to the small dinner. He can’t help it. He needs to know that everything with get better as soon as he can.

When he gets there he takes a moment before going inside, looking away from his booth when all he can recall are the memories of Eddie. Instead, he heads to the bar and asks Linda for a strawberry milkshake to go.

After she puts in the order, she walks up to Steve and lays a hand over his. “Is he okay?” She asks gently.

Steve should’ve known that she’s seen the news, but he’s relieved to find that she knows Eddie isn’t guilty. That he would never be capable of the horrible things he’s been accused of.

“He’s touch and go right now,” Steve admits, trying not to let his bottom lip quiver too much.

Linda squeezes his hand and says, “It’ll all be better soon. I just know it.”

Steve smiles at her and whispers, “Thank you.”

Moments later, she hands him the milkshake, and Steve leaves soon after. He needs to get back as quickly as he can.

He drives faster than when he left, almost regretting his little pit stop when he feels like he needs to be there. He races up to the waiting room and finds that Dustin and Eddie’s uncle are gone. Steve’s stomach drops as he looks at Robin. “Is he?”

Robin hugs him with tears in her eyes and whispers, “He’s awake. And he’s okay. He’s going to be okay.”

Steve sighs in relief and feels a few tears spill out of his eyes. He ducks his head into Robin’s neck and tries to hide his reaction from anyone else.

“Steve.”

Steve takes a deep breath and looks toward the doorway where Dustin is standing. “He wants to see you.”

Steve smiles and squeezes Robin’s arm before practically dragging a confused Dustin down the hall while asking where his room is.

Dustin leads him to it and says, “I don’t understand why-”

“Later, okay?” Steve asks, cutting him off. “I promise. I’ll tell you later.”

Dustin nods and for once he lets Steve go easily. “Okay.”

Steve jostles his hair around before slowly going into the room. He nearly gasps at the sight of Eddie so pale and almost lifeless, but when he sees his chest move slowly up and down, he’s flooded with relief.

“Eddie…” Steve says, practically running up to the bed and placing a gentle hand over his.

Eddie weakly smiles at him before glancing down at his hand. “What’s that?” He asks quietly.

“A strawberry milkshake from Linda.”

Eddie smiles a little wider. “You remembered.”

“Of course I did. How could I forget?” Steve sets it down on a little table next to his bed and finally confesses, “Eddie, I wish things would’ve been different between us because out of all the things I got from Linda’s diner, you were the best. And I’m so glad you stole my booth because I needed you that day. And I need you now and-”

“Steve?” Eddie says softly.

“Yeah?”

Eddie’s eyes move toward the foot of his bed.

Steve glances over and jumps when he sees Eddie’s uncle watching him with a small smile. “Go ahead, I’m enjoying this.”

“Wayne,” Eddie tries to groan but it ends up coming out way too soft.

Steve just laughs and grabs Eddie’s hand. “What I’m trying to say is that after your name is cleared and you’ve healed and they determine that neither of us have demobat rabies, would you want to go on a date with me at Linda’s diner?”

Eddie smiles and squeezes his hand. “Absolutely.”

“Thank god,” Wayne mutters from his seat.

As Steve laughs and Eddie tries to glare at his uncle, he can’t help but believe that everything will truly get better.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet

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frost-queen · 2 months ago

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Business wreckage // part 1 (Reader x Jake Seresin)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @alex--awesome--22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @slythetic

Summary: Jake Seresin has it all, everything at his fingertips. The charms, the money, the legacy, the ladies... yet one does not seem to drop at his feet. His publicist who he just loves riling up. Jake has it all but when a night he does something stupid, he looses it all. Forced to go in hiding with his very publicist that can resist his charm. [ series]

Jake Seresin had it all.

Billionaire. Top Gun pilot. His father’s empire legacy and well known to the ladies.

You stood impatiently by the hangar as the F16 finally had landed. You had witnessed it soaring in the air for longer than it should. Knowing he had a photoshoot in 45minutes. You sighed loud with a roll of your eyes, seeing him walk up to the hangar from the F16 with a girl. Of course. You kept shooting him glares till he was close enough to read your expression.

Having plastered on a smile for your pleasing boss. – “Sir, your next appointment.” – you addressed him as he came to a stop before you. His arm around the girl’s shoulder. Jake sighed annoyingly loud. He turned to look at the girl. – “I told you my publicist was going to nag me.” – he told her as the girl laughed way too girlishly to please him.

You decided to ignore his rude comment. – “Sir, your appointment.” – you repeated hinting it was time to leave. Jake groaned loud as the girl grabbed him by his pilot uniform. She licked her lips before kissing him. You immediately looked up, waiting for their kissing to end.

Their lips parted as the girl kept staring at his lips. – “Call me.” – she whispered to him. Jake winked back at her. You gestured to the car standing further away. He exhaled deep following in line with you. You opened the car door for him. Jake went to sit in the back. You shut the door, running over to the other side to join him on the backseat. The moment you sat in the car, the driver rode off.

Already with your planner tablet in hand, you double checked his agenda. – “What was it again?” – Jake asked staring out of the window. – “Photoshoot sir. For the business magazine.” – you reminded him. – “Which you are needed for in 35 minutes.” – you pointed out that they better be on time. Jake didn’t respond. Tapping your work tablet, you decided perhaps now was the time to let him know of a small change to the agenda.

“Your father requests diner with you at seven.” – you told him. – “Can’t… already have plans.” – Jake answered plainly. – “No you don’t!” – you replied voice pitching up. Jake laughed loud at how easily he could get you riled up. – “It’s not a request. It’s a demand. You’ll be there at seven for your father’s diner!” – you made clear. – “Sure Y/n.” – Jake responded still snickering.

You turned to your work for the remaining ride. Jake on his phone. Probably texting some girl. The car pulled over as you got out of the car. The driver got out as well, opening the door for him. Jake got out as you had opened the trunk in the meantime. Taking out some outfits. Holding them up with one hand and pushing him forwards with the other. – “You have exactly two minutes to change.” – you told him with a warning.

Jake shrugged his shoulders with little care. He left to change outfits as you met up with the team. Apologizing for any delay. Jake entered in a full suit. Classy and stylish. He winked at some girls of the team, seeing them swoon immediately. Keeping your professionality up, you clutched your work tablet close to your chest. Jake went to marker as you let them do their job.

Camera’s flashing each time he struck a pose. It seemed so natural to him. He didn’t even had to put a lot of effort in it. You noticed him glancing your way, making you point at the camera. He needed to have his gaze somewhere else… not on you.

Jake looked down with a smirk before turning back to the camera. You rushed over to him when there was a break. Giving him a water bottle and towel. Jake sat down in a high directors stool. Other girls around him as well to brush up his make-up for the lighting.

One of the girls bumped you aside, making you stumble more to the background. Jake didn’t seem to notice chatting away with the girls who were more than eager to throw themselves at him. Just because he was a billionaire and hopefully soon take over his father’s empire. Something you knew Jake had no interest in. Yet that didn’t stop the girls from falling over him. Jake got back up for the next round of shots. This time there were other girls in the picture as well.

Two squatting down to hold his leg. Two other girls holding his arm as they were pressed against him. Not even wanting to look, you worked further. After the shooting when Jake was changing again, you shared the last details with the photographer. Jake then joined you back to the car. – “How’d you like the photoshoot Y/n?” – Jake asked with a smile on his lips. – “The magazine’s will love it.” – you responded without looking away from your tablet.

Jake sighed soft at your very minimum answer. The car stopped at his appartement. The fanciest building anyone could ever picture. The greatest view of the city from his window. Jake unbuckled his seatbelt as you needed to remind him just one last time. – “Diner at seven. I’ll let a driver pick you up. Don’t be late!” – you insisted upon with a scowl.

Jake chuckled mischievous. –“Sure.” – he answered knowing what reaction he would get out of you. – “I’m serious Sir!” – you called out trying your best to lecture him. – “I’ll be there Y/n.” – Jake laughed out, patting your head. It made you feel like a puppy getting rewarded for good behaviour. Still chuckling he got out of the car.

Jake Seresin had it all. Until he lost it.

You had told him so many times to be here at seven. His father waiting impatiently the room behind you. He had hired out the best place in the fanciest restaurant. A private diner room with no prying eyes. Checking the time, you panicked as it was already ten past seven. You got called into the room as he wanted an update. – “Where is my son, Y/n?” – Mister Seresin asked you. – “He got delayed in traffic, he should be here any moment.” – you lied knowing how angry or disappointed he would be.

You left the room once more, immediately grabbing for your phone. Rushing to the front while you called him. It had already been your tenth call to him with no response. Getting desperate and panicking, you weren’t sure if he’d even come. You could curse at him. No answer. You dialled again seeing the minutes tick by.

It rang as sudden voices made you move your phone a bit down. The door opened as you saw Jake stumble inside with a girl. A different one. Hanging up, you stomped over to him. – “Sir!” – you called out ready to scold him. Jake hiccups loud, pushing his hand on your face to shove you out of the way.

Blinking shocked back at him as you watched him head for the door where his father was waiting for him. – “Sir no!” – you called out knowing he couldn’t go in looking like that. A drunk with a random drunk girl on his arm. Yet you were too late, he stumbled into the room laughing loud at his own silliness. His father got up, chair scraping back over the floor. – “Jake!” – he called out in a fury.

You pushed yourself through the door, bowing in an apology to him. – “My apologies Mister Seresin.” – you said keeping your head low. Knowing this was truly messed up. – “What is the meaning of this?” – Mister Seresin spoke pointing at his son. – “Is this diner really necessary?” - Jake responded. – “We both know you just want to talk me in to taking over your empire. Which dad I don’t want. I know that, you know that, but you just can’t accept that.” – Jake confessed tipsy.

“So you decide to stumble in here drunk with a hooker!” – his father shouted frustrated. – “Hey!” – the girl called out. She stumbled forwards as your eyes widened with a panic. – “Listen here old man.” – she started in a whiney drunk voice. You immediately went after her, taking her by the arm to pull her away from him. Instead you received a slap against your nose from her pulling her arm away.

Stumbling back. The woman went after Mister Seresin again wanting to give him a piece of her mind. You went after her again as some members of the staff came helping. They helped you into holding the woman back. Avoiding her swaying hands with sharp nails as she was going feral for a fight. Others moved Mister Seresin away from her. Jake almost doing nothing.

Your eyes widended when you saw him go over to the table. – “No more fancy bribe diners!” – he declared grabbing a plate and crashing it onto the table. You gasped loud at his sudden violent drunk behaviour. He kept demolishing the dinner table, throwing with plates and food. – “Sir!” – you shouted loud, letting go of the girl as the other three men seemed like they could handle her. You went for your boss trying to calm him.

“Stop! Sir stop!” – you screamed out trying to grab him as his elbow punched you right in the face. It knocked you back, falling to the ground. Tasting the blood immediately in your mouth. It was then that your eyes fell on a waiter who was filming everything. Gasping loud with shock in your eyes, you knew if this went viral it was over. His reputation was smeared. – “No!” – you shouted loud, getting up to run over to him. The waiter caught you, taking a run for it. As possible as you could in heels, you sprinted after him.

The waiter was fast and before you knew it, he had vanished. Slowing down, you knew your job was on the line. You would sure be blamed for it. You should’ve staid with him. Picked him up yourself. Instead you were here prepping everything for the diner. Which was required of you as well. Returning to the room where the chaos was you let yourself slide down against the wall.

Crying as this couldn’t get any worse. Just wanting to wake up and hope this was all just a nightmare. Where Jake Seresin didn’t just ruin his own reputation and that of his father. Jake and the girl got removed from the room by a bouncer. Thrown out for the troubling people they were. Jake’s father had to apologize ashamed to the restaurant and pay for the troubles and wreckage.

You walked him up to his car, holding the door open for him. – “I apologize for tonight Mister Seresin. I’ll resign in the morning.” – you told him, knowing it was over. Mister Seresin looked up to you with a stern expression. – “You’ll be in my office at 8.” – with his final words, you shut the door watching him drive off. That night you didn’t sleep at all. Worrying about your job and about your boss Jake. For you had never seen him like this before.

Th morning was cool. September’s breeze readying you for the next season. With buckling knees and cold shivers you went to the office. The empire’s office. All the way to the top. The door got opened for you to his office as to your surprise Jake was there as well. Very different from last night. Now he stood humbly. Hands folded together with his head low.

The moment he heard the door open, he turned his gaze to it. To you. His eyes widening as he then looked away with shame. Shame for seeing the clear bruise on your face that he caused. You approached the desk nervously, knowing of the letter in your back pocket. Mister Seresin in his chair, looking very serious. He didn’t even need to say anything as he slipped a tablet forwards.

On it clear pictures and the video on the news blog from last night. It made you look ashamed away. – “Tonight was a disaster. I’ve already lost a big deal of clients over this. Since this morning I have been harassed by reporters wanting an exclusive scoop on this.” – Mister Seresin spoke.

Trying to hold your tears back, you pulled the letter from your back pocket. Laying it onto the desk. Jake’s gaze wide on it. – “I’ll resign Mister Seresin.” – you told him sliding the letter over the desk. Your action got stopped by Jake pressing his hand down on yours. – “No!” – he made clear.

“This is my fault, not Y/n’s. Punish me.” – Jake said without giving you as much as a glance. You could only stare at him. – “Oh but you’ll be punished.” – His father made clear with a scowl. – “I need to sort this out and I can’t have your face parading around. So I’m sending you off to the countryside.” – Mister Seresin finished. Jake nodded with a lowered gaze. You blinked surprised when your letter of resignation got slipped back to you by Mister Seresin.

“And you are coming with him.” – he let out. Eyes widening at the sudden thought. – “You are the only person I trust to keep him in check Y/n.” – he told you with a warm smile. You took your letter back still trying to process it all. Mister Seresin then turned back to his son with a scowl. – “You leave in five minutes.” – Mister Seresin only needed to clap his hands when the doors behind you got opened. Two members of his staff rolling in suitcases.

“I took the liberty to pack.” – he gestured at the suitcases that got rolled over to you. Jake took the suitcases over from the guy with a deep sigh. You took yours, ready to follow him downstairs if it wasn’t for Mister Seresin to stop you. – “Y/n, make him behave please…” – he told you before to your surprise leave a kiss on your forehead. You smiled sheepishly to go and follow Jake downstairs.

The two of you got shoved into a car through the back doors so no reporters could snap any more photo’s. Driving off to the airport. You exhaled deep when the car door had shut. – “Y/n…” – Jake started as you didn’t want to hear any excuses. – “Don’t!” – you called out, turning away from him. Whatever he had to say, you still hated him for last night. Hated him how he acted out like that. He used to be humble and down to earth. Now it seems the fame and money had gotten to his head.

-----------------------------------------------------

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iamgonnagetyouback · 2 months ago

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𝟷.𝟽𝚔 || 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐓

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Romeo and Juliet had nothing on you and Jess Mariano.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Jess Mariano x reader

The small bell above the diner door jingled, signaling your arrival at Luke’s Diner. As you stepped inside, you caught sight of Jess Mariano slouched in his usual booth, a dog-eared book in his hands. His dark eyes flicked up just briefly from the pages before returning to whatever literary masterpiece he was engrossed in.

You and Jess had a thing. Well, not officially. Not that anyone was thrilled about the prospect of it becoming official, except maybe you. You were supposed to be the sweet, well-liked girl in town—the one who got along with everyone, including Rory Gilmore, who always threw daggers your way every time you were caught within a ten-foot radius of Jess.

Lorelai wasn’t any better. She’d never been particularly subtle, and her dramatic sighs whenever she spotted you two talking were enough to fill a whole novel themselves. And Luke? Well, Luke had his usual I’m going to throttle my nephew expression on his face.

It wasn’t like Jess was helping to ease anyone’s concerns, either. If anything, he seemed to enjoy the chaos. He lived for the thrill of rebellion, the undercurrent of defiance. And you? Well, you were getting a kick out of it, too.

You slid into the booth opposite him, the vinyl squeaking under your jeans as you gave him a once-over. “Hey, Romeo,” you said, leaning forward. “What tragic tale of doomed love are we reading today?”

Jess’s lips quirked up, his eyes still on the page. “Wuthering Heights,” he said dryly. “You know, to set the mood for our inevitable downfall.”

You grinned. “How fitting. Are we at the part where Heathcliff wrecks everything?”

Jess finally looked up, his gaze meeting yours. “Depends. Have you made up your mind to ruin my life yet?”

“Who says you’re not the one ruining mine?” you teased back, earning yourself a full smirk from him. His hand casually turned the page of the book, but his attention was clearly focused on you now.

Before either of you could continue, the door opened again, and in strolled Rory and Lorelai. Instinctively, you straightened, feeling the weight of their disapproval from across the room. They exchanged knowing looks, whispering between themselves, and Lorelai’s exasperated sigh wasn’t even the least bit subtle.

Jess rolled his eyes, leaning back in the booth. “Well, if it isn’t the Montagues.”

You chuckled softly under your breath. “Ignore them.”

“Hard to, when they’re so invested in our tragic demise.”

“Tragic?” You arched an eyebrow at him. “A bit melodramatic, don’t you think?”

He shrugged, his smirk growing. “Just quoting the classics. We are in a small town where everyone has an opinion, and they all seem to hate me. Shakespeare would’ve had a field day with this.”

“Oh, totally. You as Romeo, me as Juliet, and the entire town as the bloodthirsty Capulets.”

Jess’s gaze darkened slightly, his tone playful but serious beneath it. “You know how that ends, right? Double suicide, lots of crying, poetic last words.”

“Relax,” you said, laughing softly. “No one’s drinking poison or stabbing themselves here. We’re more of a modern adaptation. Happy endings.”

“If you say so, Cherry,” Jess said, leaning forward slightly, his voice a low murmur. The nickname slipped off his tongue with a casual ease that made your heart skip a beat. It had started as a joke, something to poke fun at your fondness for cherry-flavored candies. Now, it felt like a secret only the two of you shared, a reminder that he saw you differently from how everyone else did.

You smiled at him, leaning your chin on your hand. “I do say so, Romeo.”

“Speaking of star-crossed lovers,” he continued, “you planning on telling the entire town about us?”

“What about us?” you grinned, glancing around. “Besides, they’ve already made up their minds.”

“Of course they have,” Jess said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s Stars Hollow. They hate me.”

“Not everyone hates you.”

“Really?” He gave you a sceptical look. “Name one person.”

“Michel doesn’t hate you,” you said, leaning back with a satisfied grin.

“Michel doesn’t care about anyone.”

“Exactly.” You smirked. “I talk to him about you all the time.”

Jess’s eyes lit up with intrigue. “You talk about me to Michel?”

“In French,” you replied nonchalantly, picking at the edge of your napkin. “It’s our little secret. So, even if the whole town thinks you’re the worst, Michel remains blissfully indifferent.”

“Lucky me,” Jess muttered, though his eyes gleamed with amusement. “So, what do you tell him? How much you adore me? How I’m your Romeo, destined to sweep you off your feet?”

You shrugged, playing coy. “Maybe.”

“I knew it,” he said with a grin, leaning in closer. “You’ve got it bad for me, don’t you?”

Before you could respond, Luke approached the table, wiping his hands on his apron and glaring down at Jess. “You bothering her?”

“Not at all,” Jess said smoothly, leaning back. “We’re just discussing the great literary works.”

“Right,” Luke deadpanned, clearly not buying it. “Well, whatever you’re discussing, don’t get any ideas.”

Jess raised his hands in mock surrender. “No ideas here, Uncle Luke. Just harmless banter.”

Luke shot you a look that said I know exactly what’s going on before walking away, mumbling something about young people and bad influences.

You turned back to Jess, who was watching you with that infuriatingly smug expression.

“You know,” you said, picking up the book in front of him and flipping through the pages. “For all your talk of tragedy, I think we’re more of a comedy.”

“Comedy?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re sure about that?”

“Absolutely,” you nodded, meeting his gaze. “Everyone’s making a fuss, we’re keeping secrets, and at the end of the day, it all works out.”

“Is that so?” Jess tilted his head, his voice dropping slightly. “What makes you so sure?”

“Because,” you said, your smile softening as you looked at him, “no one dies in our story.”

Jess looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable before he finally chuckled softly, his defences melting ever so slightly. “Alright, Cherry. If you say so.”

“I do.” You leaned forward, mirroring his earlier movement. “Now, where were we?”

Jess smirked. “Oh, I think you know.”

Stars Hollow had never been one for keeping secrets. Gossip moved faster than a Gilmore Girl with coffee, and somehow, before you'd even realized it, everyone knew that something was going on between you and Jess Mariano. Well, everyone except you and Jess, apparently.

You leaned against the counter at the Dragonfly Inn, flipping through the latest book you had been unable to put down, your mind still half in the world of fictional characters and tragic romances. Michel was at his desk, typing with exaggerated annoyance.

“Il est agaçant (He is annoying),” you said in a hushed tone, eyes still glued to your book.

Michel barely looked up. “I assume you’re talking about the delinquent,” he replied, his accent as sharp as ever.

You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips. “Yes, of course. Who else?”

“I don’t get it,” you had said to Michel one afternoon as you sat at the reception desk. “Why is everyone so against him? They don’t even know him.”

Michel had waved a hand, unimpressed. “Parce qu’ils sont tous idiots." (Because they are all idiots.)

The bell above the door chimed, and you looked up to see Jess walk in, his usual smirk firmly in place.

“Hey, Cherry,” Jess greeted you, leaning against the counter casually.

You raised an eyebrow, fighting the smile that threatened to break free. “Mon cher Roméo (My dear Romeo),” you replied playfully.

Jess chuckled, glancing around the empty lobby. “Don’t tell me Lorelai or Rory have been by to lecture you again?”

“Oh, they have,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Apparently, I’m making a huge mistake.”

Jess shrugged, not offended but rather amused by the whole town’s reaction to him. “What can I say? I’m Stars Hollow’s favorite villain.”

“Maybe it’s time for a redemption arc,” you teased, pushing the book you were reading across the counter towards him.

He picked it up, scanning the title with mild interest. “Pride and Prejudice? Not exactly light reading.”

“Well, I have to keep up with someone,” you shot back, raising an eyebrow. “You know, the town’s resident bad boy with impeccable taste in literature.”

Jess smirked. “Impeccable, huh? High praise, Juliet.”

You rolled your eyes. “I just don’t get why everyone’s so obsessed with what we’re doing. It’s not like we’re… I don’t know.”

“In love?” Jess finished for you, his tone playful but carrying a hint of something more.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Yeah, that.”

Jess’s gaze softened for a moment, and the teasing smirk fell from his lips, replaced by something more serious. “Maybe they’re just jealous they’re not living in their own Shakespearean tragedy,” he said, his voice lower now.

You scoffed, trying to brush off the intensity of the moment. “A tragedy? Please. You and I both know we’re way too smart to fall into that trap.”

He leaned closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “Is that what you think, Cherry? That we’re too smart to end up like Romeo and Juliet?”

The reference wasn’t lost on you. It never was. Jess had this way of weaving literature into every conversation, turning something mundane into something more. And you knew what he was doing, teasing you, pushing boundaries.

You bit your lip, leaning in just a fraction closer. “I mean, I do prefer happy endings.”

Jess’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, and then he leaned back, the playful smirk returning to his lips. “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Before you could say anything else, the door swung open again, and Lorelai walked in, her eyes immediately narrowing when she saw Jess.

“Oh, great,” she muttered. “Romeo and Juliet. How fitting.”

You groaned inwardly. “Lorelai…”

But she wasn’t listening. She marched over, standing between you and Jess, arms crossed. “Jess, don’t you have a book to brood over somewhere else? Preferably far away?”

Jess just raised his eyebrows, completely unfazed. “Nice to see you too, Lorelai.”

“Yeah, well, the feeling isn’t mutual,” Lorelai shot back, turning to you. “Seriously, you need to be careful with him.”

Jess glanced at you, and for a moment, there was something unspoken in his eyes—something that made your heart race. You knew he wasn’t going to push back against Lorelai, not right now. Instead, he gave you one last lingering look before turning to leave.

“See you later, Cherry,” he said softly, as he walked out the door.

Lorelai groaned once he was gone, turning back to you. “I really don’t get it. What do you see in him?”

You didn’t answer right away, your mind still on the way Jess had looked at you, the way your heart had skipped a beat when he called you Juliet. Maybe you were falling for him. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t such a bad thing.

“Je ne sais pas, (I don't know)” you muttered under your breath, catching Michel’s amused smirk from behind the desk.

But deep down, you knew.

Romeo and Juliet had nothing on you and Jess Mariano.

#jess mariano x reader #jess mariano fluff #jess gilmore girls #jess mariano #ivy's soft scribbles ೀ

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freelancearsonist · 9 months ago

Text

Whole

Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Rated MA for the most long-winded poetic smut i've ever written jfc 🤦‍♀️ slow burn fluff with a couple sprinkles of angst for flavor, reader uses fem pronouns and is described as having female parts, it's dirty y'all but at least they use protection

7,470 Words

A/N: you all know my mo by now i disappear for a year and then come back and lay down some god damned PORN. this fic is no exception to the rule. @shakespeareanwannabe requested this back in july and she literally just asked for a cute moment between steve and dustin, sorry you got 6k words more than you bargained for 😂 but also thank you for betaing and the constant validation you're the best ily 🖤

Steve’s not sure how it even worked.

He can still remember the look on Robin’s face when you agreed, how she was speechless for almost ten minutes because she couldn’t process what had just happened.

Steve’s reaction was about the same as hers, in all honesty. He’s gotten so used to striking out that asking people out has become something of a game to him. He knows he’ll get a no, and he knows Robin will laugh her ass off at him. But what can he say? He likes putting a smile on his best friend’s face.

Needless to say, you’ve shaken him. In the best possible way. Because your answer was three letters instead of two.

And now, he's a little bit in over his head.

Or, to be more accurate, a lot in over his head.

It seems like it’s been ages since he’s gone on a date, even though it’s only been a few months at most. He feels lost, like he’s completely unlearned everything he ever knew about girls.

He hates it, despises it with every fiber of his own being, but he also knows it’s true; he needs advice. And although he’ll never admit it to the little shithead’s face, there’s no one better he can think of going to than his very own protege. Who better to remind him of his own prowess than the person who learned everything they know from him?

One look at Dustin’s smug little face and Steve almost regrets it. Almost.

“Just can’t stay away, can you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes and gives the younger boy a little shove, camouflaging it with an affectionate pat on the back. “This is strictly business, Henderson.”

“Oh, is it now?” The younger boy’s voice takes on a smug tone as he folds his fingers together and leans back in his chair. “Well then, why don’t you have a seat? Step into my office.”

Steve rolls his eyes and slides into the booth, shooting a smile and a “thank you” to the kind waitress who delivers two milkshakes to their table.

Dustin takes his time and makes a meal of unwrapping his straw, feeding off of Steve’s clear impatience Steve’s fingers tap against the table, reminding himself that patience is necessary when you come to someone for a favor. It’s just that it’s Dustin, and Dustin knows exactly how to get under the older boy’s skin in the most annoying-yet-oddly-endearing fashion.

“So…” Dustin finally says after a lengthy sip of strawberry milkshake. “What brings you so humbly to me?”

“I’ve got a date.”

And Dustin, the little bastard–he laughs. A deep, rumbling belly laugh, so pure and unfiltered that the three other occupied tables in the diner pause their conversations to get a look at the boy clutching his sides.

Steve’s a little embarrassed by the attention, but even more embarrassed that Dustin’s reaction is so genuine. The fact that the idea of him having a date is so laughable is a bit of a punch to the gut. It hasn’t really been that long, has it?

When Dustin’s laughter finally dies down he realizes Steve’s face is completely serious, and it makes him giggle even more.

“Wait, you’re actually serious? Who on earth did you manage to pull?”

Steve’s nearly bashful as he says your name, and even more bashful when Dustin’s jaw visibly drops.

“No fucking way. I’d believe anyone else, but her? She’s like… hotter than Phoebe Cates. There’s no way you wouldn’t strike out with her.”

Steve’s immediately on the defensive. Is it really so hard to believe that he, former king of Hawkins High, could pull the most gorgeous girl in town?

But that’s just it. There’s really no one like you, not in his eyes. He’s admired you since freshman year and never once even tried with you because he knew he wasn’t worthy. You were always in the background–a beautiful, kind, smart, funny girl just out of his reach. Part of the reason he even asked you out was because he was so sure he would strike out. In the end, losing his confidence was exactly what he needed to pull the girl of his dreams.

And that’s why there’s so much riding on this. You’ve always been his biggest “what if”, the girl he wonders about when thinking that maybe not trying has been holding him back. And apparently, it has.

“Look, I don’t even know how it happened, okay? But she said yes, and… and I really don’t want to blow it.”

“Well duh. You’ll have to leave town if you blow it with her, you know that, right? If she doesn’t think you’re worth it, no one else in this town ever will again.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” Steve groans, slouching down so far in the booth that Dustin can just barely see his poor, overwhelmed face.

“Steve, listen…” Dustin’s voice takes on an almost fatherly quality, an omniscient tone that gives off the illusion of great hidden knowledge. He gets like this sometimes, and Steve’s not always sure that it is just an illusion. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re, like, one of the coolest guys I know. If she doesn’t like you… that’s her problem, not yours. Okay?”

Steve straightens in his seat, a little shocked to hear such kind words from a friend that he’s used to being mercilessly teased by.

“No, no, no, it’s going to your head. I take it all back. Forget I said anything.” Dustin’s hearty giggle makes Steve smile as he sets a wad of bills on the table and slides out of the booth.

“You’re not so bad Henderson, you know that?” He gives the younger boy’s full head of curls an affectionate ruffle. “Thanks, kid. I’ll radio later.”

Not that Steve didn’t have total faith in his young protege, but it’s still a relief that the pep talk turned out to be exactly what he needed to hear. Dustin’s right, after all. Steve’s worked hard to become the man he’s always wanted to be. He may not be dripping charisma or sex appeal the way he used to, but he’s much more comfortable in his own skin. That’s what counts, right?

And you really are his dream girl. The opportunity to take you out tonight, even if it ends up being your first and only date together, is an honor. He’s much less focused now on all the ways he could screw up, hyper-fixated on putting the effort in to make this the best night of your life.

That effort comes out in the carefully selected suit jacket he dons over his white button-up, the extra spritz of cologne, the careful touch-up shave to vanquish his five o’clock shadow, the extra ten minutes using the perfect amount of product in his hair so that it stays in place yet is still soft to the touch.

By the time he gets to Enzo’s (half an hour early, mind), he’s practically vibrating with nerves and anticipation. He’s never been much of an overthinker, but he sure is tonight. Is this place too much for the first date? Would you rather do something lowkey, like catch a movie or go for a walk in the park? He has to remind himself a couple of times that you agreed to this, that you wouldn’t have said yes if you weren’t interested in the arrangement.

To say he’s prepared for this is putting it lightly. He’s run through every possible scenario in his mind, gone over conversation starters and questions he wants to ask you over and over again until he knows exactly how he wants to phrase each thing.

And still, nothing could prepare him for when you walk through the door.

He has to physically restrain his jaw from dropping because in the moment he sees you, every well-planned thought and all etiquette is flushed down the proverbial pipes. You’re nothing short of breathtaking in a dress that hugs all the right curves and shows just enough cleavage to have him imagining what else there might be to see. Your hair is pinned back out of your face, eyes framed by just the slightest bit of makeup to make the color of your irises pop. He swears he’s never seen a shade quite like them. It’s like you move in slow motion as you approach him–he sees the entrance of the smoking hot love interest in every romantic comedy, complete with smoke and fireworks, as you move towards the table.

And then some sense of decorum returns to his addled brain, and he quickly shoots up so he can pull out your chair for you like a proper gentleman. He catches just the slightest whiff of your perfume, and he’s a goner. He’s ready to sign his life away to you, to yank his own heart out of his chest to offer to your careful hands.

He has to give his head a shake to compose himself before he goes any further off the deep end. No one’s ever thoroughly shaken him the way you have, and it’s been a matter of thirty seconds. It’s almost intimidating, the effect you have on him.

“You look… incredible,” he fumbles as he takes his seat across from you. “I mean, you always do, but… wow.”

The shy giggle you emit tugs at a heartstring he didn’t even know he had.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a genuine smile. “You clean up very well yourself.”

“I do like to put in some effort every once in a while.” He flashes the most charming smile he can muster, and just like that he’s back. His resolve to impress you is reinforced tenfold. You’ve shaken him, and it’s such an unfamiliar feeling that he’s practically bumbling. He wants to shake you just as badly.

The food’s delicious, and the conversation’s even better. He has a track record for taking out a more–for lack of a better term–bimbo-y type, and that’s definitely not you. You’re smart, you’re witty, but you don’t make him feel like an idiot. He’s so taken with you that he doesn’t even notice that three hours have passed until he looks around the room and notices that every table is now empty and bussed.

The waiter delivers the check, and Steve notices you gnawing on your lip.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, trying not to be too prying.

“I don’t want this to be over yet.”

Steve smiles. He’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. He’s never been so sure of anything, and that surprises him. He’s used to dates who are easy to read and even easier to take home, and those aren’t the impressions you’ve been giving him. To know that you’re feeling exactly what he’s feeling is a huge confidence boost.

“I don’t either.”

Your hand is so small compared to his. That’s all he can think about as he strolls next to you, his fingers intertwined with yours. He’s always considered hand-holding to be child’s play, it’s never excited him before the way it does in this moment with you.

It’s pitch black in the park and he can hear the overlapping chirping of summer cicadas and grasshoppers, the perfect background noise now that the conversation has died down. It’s less about getting to know each other at this point and more just basking in each other’s presence, prolonging the inevitable because neither one of you can bear to call it a night when it’s been such a good few hours.

You’re shocked, to say the very least. Steve certainly has a reputation, and it’s not for being a romantic. Yet everything tonight has flown in the face of all the rumors you’ve been hearing since junior high. You figured he’d be a fun fling, and probably only one night at that–you’d made your peace with the idea. To find that he’s kind, considerate, funny, and can match your intellect and quick wit… it’s a very pleasant surprise. And that’s what has you out well past a decent hour, giddy over simply holding his hand like you’re a damned school girl all over again.

“I should probably let you go home,” Steve sighs wistfully. He hates to be the one to bring it up, but you’re on your fifth lap around the park and about to circle back to where your car is parked so now seems the best time.

You’re chewing your lip again, a thoughtful habit that makes his heart pound just a little bit harder.

Here’s the thing: you’re really not the bold type. You act confident, sure, but in practice it’s a lot more difficult for you. So no one’s more surprised than you are when you say, “You could come home with me. If you want.”

Steve’s definitely shocked, too. Less shocked at your proposition and more at the fact that he’s tempted to decline. Because no matter how much he’s been running through the back of his mind what you might look like under that gorgeous dress, he doesn’t want this to end there. For the first time in his life, he wants to find more meaning than sex out of a relationship. He doesn’t want to take you home and never see you again. He wants to take you out again, and again, and again, and again after that. He sees a future, for once, that doesn’t look dim and hopeless. That fact alone scares the shit out of him.

He realizes he’s waited way too long to reply and fumbles for an answer. “Of course I want to. I’d be an idiot not to. But…”

You chew that cursed bottom lip of yours again, and Steve has to focus on the obvious cue you’re giving him rather than the fact that he wants to be the next set of teeth around that lip.

He stops in his tracks, gently pulling on your hand to face him so he can take your other hand in his free one. “It’s not a bad but. I mean, I’m going to go home kicking myself for saying no because I really honestly do want to… well, y’know. But… I want to do this right with you. I want to take you out again. I want to get to know you and see where this goes. I can’t… I don’t want this to end tonight.”

He’s eternally grateful for how dark it is as he feels a flush consume his face. He can’t remember a time he’s been so honest and open, especially on a first date; but the look on your face tells him he’s done something right.

“Okay,” you tell him, squeezing his hands in yours. “You… honestly have no clue how nice it is to hear that.”

“Of course,” he continues, “if you just want me for my body, no hard feelings.”

You laugh at that, genuinely laugh, and Steve thinks it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

“No,” you reassure him. “No, I… I wanna see where this goes, too.”

You’re stopped only a few paces from your car, and Steve knows with a twist of his gut that this is the end of the night. It makes his gut turn with disappointment, but also with anticipation of when he’ll see you next. Already, his mind is flooding with ideas of where he can take you and what you’ll do together.

You drop one of his hands so you can walk but keep a tight grip on the other until you get to your driver’s side door, hesitating outside because you’re still not ready for this to be over. It takes every ounce of restraint he has not to kiss you, unsure of if that would be moving too fast.

Thankfully, you make the call yourself. Leaning up on your toes, hands against his chest for balance, you press your lips against his and he has to summon every mite of strength not to moan. No one’s ever tasted so sweet, molded against him so perfectly. His hands drift from your shoulders down your arms, coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you just a little bit closer. It’s a fight of will not to overstep, to break off the kiss before it can become too heated. His mind is spinning by the time you break away. He’s aching for more, and he hopes you are too.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

Your sweet voice replays in his mind all night, long after you’ve gotten into your car and driven away, long after he’s returned to his own vehicle and pulled the radio out from under the driver’s seat to check in with Dustin, long after he arrives home and soaks in a cold shower for longer than he probably should. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get your voice out of his head, and he couldn’t be any less upset about it.

He practically counts down the minutes until he sees you again. This time, he has a little less restraint. He greets you with a kiss–a sweet peck and a hand on your waist that leaves you aching for even more.

It’s a movie this time, a chance to enjoy each other’s company on a night you’re both too tired from working to engage in heavy conversation and getting to know each other further.

It starts with sharing popcorn, then holding hands, then somewhere along the way the film is completely forgotten in favor of your lips meeting his. His breath grows heavy as his hands hold your face, committing you to memory while resisting the urge to explore further. Your hands, meanwhile, are firmly on his thighs, gripping tightly to keep yourself steady as you do everything you can to keep yourself from crawling into his lap.

He whispers your name, and your grip on him tightens.

“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, then gives up on the futile attempt at finishing his sentence so that he can pull you even deeper into the kiss as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip.

It takes everything in him not to moan when your lips eagerly part to accept him.

Needless to say, once the credits start rolling you’re both more than a little hot under the collar.

“Let me buy you dinner,” Steve suggests as he woefully unwinds himself from you. Declining doesn’t even flicker through your mind as a possibility.

It’s not Enzo’s this time, but it doesn’t have to be. He could set a soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of you at this point and you’d still thank him for it. This time around, you’re not really as interested in the cuisine as you are just simply getting through this meal to what’s next. Because what’s next is all you’ve been thinking about since you walked through the doors the night of that very first date and saw Steve Harrington wearing a blazer for you. It’s a level of effort he’s definitely not known for–in fact, he’s built a reputation for putting in so little effort that it nearly made your jaw drop to see him trying. And it certainly made your heart skip a beat.

But then again, the Steve before you carelessly wolfing down his bacon cheeseburger seems very different from the Steve you knew in high school, even if you didn’t know that iteration as intimately as this one. That one was cool, collected, snarky and pompous and maddeningly desirable.

This Steve, your Steve, is nearly an exact foil. Much less cocky, a little less confident but more self-assured in the ways that actually hold meaning, less worried about what the people around him are observing of him than what you’re observing of him. He seems happier, more carefree, more eager to please others than simply himself. He’s grown so much in such a short amount of time, and you feel proud just for having the honor to witness it. Significantly more proud to be on the receiving end of his affections now that they hold the kind of value you’ve always wished they would.

He looks up and notices you staring at him while lost in thought, a small smile spreading across his lips as your eyes quickly dart away.

“What’s on your mind?” He questions as he licks a stray bit of ketchup from his thumb.

“Just… happy I’m here. With you.” It brings heat to your cheeks to admit it, but you don’t want him to go unappreciated in this moment.

It’s the right thing to say, because his smile grows even wider. “I’m happy too,” he admits. “I… I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while. Could never work up the courage, I guess.”

“Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington was intimidated by me?” You say it with a mock gasp, but your shock is more genuine than you give off. Never in a million years would you have thought that he, the man who could have whoever he wanted, would be worried over you saying no to him. It’s almost comical, especially considering the way you practically threw yourself at him on your first date. Of course then, you had no clue how much he’d developed as a person. You’re almost ashamed of your behavior now, as if you might’ve inadvertently been taking advantage of the new and improved Steve who isn’t just into you for a hookup.

He shrugs, nearly bashful at your teasing. “Never figured I was good enough for you. So I didn’t bother to try.”

You’re genuinely curious now, leaning in a little closer and brushing your fingers against his hand resting atop the diner counter. “What made you change your mind?”

“Honestly? I was so sure you’d say no that I asked just to give Robin a chuckle. She loves watching me get shot down.”

That makes you frown, and he’s quick to backtrack. “I wanted to! I just… I’ve had a bad track record lately. And you’re… you’re you. You’re the last person I should be worthy of.”

His eyes are quick to avert from your gaze, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he contemplates whether he’s said too much.

“Steve…” you properly grab his hand now in the hopes that it’ll bring his eyes back to you, and it works. “You’re the only person I’ve deemed worthy in a long time, honestly.”

Steve Harrington is scaldingly warm. It’s one of many sensations forcing your mind into overdrive as he lays you delicately across the backseat of his beemer, one hand cushioning the back of your head while simultaneously deepening the already heated kiss and the other balancing his weight to lean over you in the cramped space without completely crushing you.

Your fingers tangle themselves into his soft brown locks, tugging ever-so-slightly as his tongue slips between your parted lips. He’s an eager explorer and you’re more than happy to let him take the lead, to show you all the skill you’ve heard so many whispers about.

You let out an involuntary moan as he wedges himself even closer to you, his body heat soaking through all the layers of clothing between the two of you and warming you all the way to your very bones.

You’re practically aching, ready to beg, and he knows it the second you wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to get him even closer. If there’s one thing Steve Harrington’s good at, it’s assessing your needs. He pulls away just the slightest bit to adjust his position so he can get closer, wedging a knee between your legs to press right against your core, and it makes you jolt back against the car door at the same time his head hits the roof just a bit too hard.

You both pause for a moment, the reality of your situation hitting you simultaneously, and then you’re laughing. It’s light and edged with unresolved want, but it’s enough to fracture the tension of the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Shouldn’t have gotten so carried away. This isn’t how I want to do this.”

“No?”

“No. You deserve way better than this old beater,” he chuckles, then leans down to kiss you. This kiss is lighter, no longer edged with tension and lust. He kisses you just to kiss you–there’s no end goal to it this time.

“What could be better than a BMW?” You tease lightly, trying to reassure him that you’re less disappointed than you really feel.

“You know. Something romantic. A proper bed, rose petals, maybe a few candles…”

“I don’t need all that,” you try to tell him.

“I think I do,” he admits. And that’s enough to pull you back, to remind you that you need to be patient and grateful that he values you so much as to want to do this whole thing properly. That his affection is something to be cherished, not taken for granted.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to be pushy.”

“Please don’t apologize.” He hesitates to untangle himself from you, even though he knows he needs to. “I want this just as bad. I just… I need it to be right.”

“As long as I have you, it’ll be right,” you reassure. “I hope you know that.”

He presses his lips to yours again, a slow and passionate kiss that he hopes communicates every bit of adoration he feels for you in this moment.

“It’ll be perfect. I swear,” he vows. You’ve never believed anything more whole-heartedly than you do this promise.

~~~

“Wait, you’re telling me that you literally had her under you and you stopped?” Robin’s halfway through chewing a mouthful of popcorn and the absolute carnage inside her agape mouth makes Steve give her a light shove.

“It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full, y’know.”

“It’s not polite to blue-ball either!” She shoots back in utter disbelief.

“How do you think I felt? I was this close,” he holds his thumb and index finger barely millimeters apart, “to sealing the deal.”

She just shakes her head. “You, Steve Harrington, are a genuine, bonafide idiot.”

She’s not telling him anything he doesn’t know. It’s been three days since the aborted fling in the backseat of his car, and he’s barely thought of anything else. Especially since you’ve been away from home both of the past nights when he’s called. He’s starting to worry you’ve gotten the wrong impression, that he’s not interested or that he’s toying with you. It’s the exact opposite. He wants nothing more than to know you in the most intimate way he can know you. But he needs it to be flawless. He needs it to be well thought-out and precisely planned, the most romantic event in the history of copulation. He won’t settle for anything less, not with you. You deserve perfection, and he won’t give you anything less.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he tries to explain. “I want to more than anything. But if you’re gonna go to town on a goddess, you need to do some worshiping, y’know? I don’t feel like I’ve done enough.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear this admission. You weren’t sure what to expect–worried that maybe visiting him at work was an overstep–but hearing him call you a goddess certainly wasn’t on your radar.

“You’ve done more than enough, Steve.”

The sound of your voice makes Steve jump and whirl around, oblivious to Robin’s sly smirk and mumbled excuse of needing to attend to something in the back room.

“H-hey!” He squeaks, then clears his throat in an attempt to get his tone back to its normal octave. “What… what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, just came to pick up a tape,” you tease. “But mostly I came to see you.”

“Me?” He takes a moment to ground himself, loosening his too-tight grip on the counter. “I mean… I tried to call you last night. And the night before?”

Your brow furrows. “Really? I didn’t get your message.”

Because he didn’t leave one. He clears his throat and says, “I just figured you were busy.”

“Oh, well, I volunteer at the animal shelter on Wednesdays, and last night was my friend’s 21st birthday. I’m sorry I missed you, though.”

He can tell that you’re really remorseful, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest a little bit. He plays it off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No, it’s fine, it’s… are you free tonight?”

You giggle at the abrupt redirect, but he’s played directly into your hand.

“Yeah, actually. I was hoping maybe you could help me pick out something for us to watch tonight? If you’re free too, that is.”

His dark eyes blink slowly, wondering if you’re aware of the implication behind your completely innocent words. You. Him. A movie. Alone. It’s enough to make his head spin.

“I’ve never been freer.”

Conveniently, you’ve come in close enough to the end of his shift that by the time you’re done combing through Family Video’s vast selection for the perfect film to use as background noise, Steve’s ready to clock out. And since you walked over after finishing your own shift at the local dollar store up the street, it works out perfectly that he can give you a ride straight to his place.

You only glance in the backseat once, but it’s enough to get your mind churning. Remembering the feeling of him, of what could’ve been. Anticipating what will be.

“Parents home?” You ask as he pulls into his driveway and parks, trying to sound casual and utterly failing.

“Nope,” he answers easily. “Took a detour to Cabo on their way home from Hawaii.”

“Sounds glamorous. You opted out?”

“I’d rather be here in Hawkins with you than on a beach alone anyday.”

He must know the effect his words have on you. Surely he can hear the way your heart picks up pace as he looks at you with those dark, affectionate eyes.

“So… this is home.” He waves a hand around the entrance hall like it’s a shabby nightmare, not the grandest house you’ve ever been in.

“I’m starting to understand why they used to call you King Steve.”

He’s almost embarrassed at the mention of that old high school nickname. “Trust me, this isn’t why.”

“Well, a palace does befit you,” you tell him with a smirk.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush.” The wink he shoots you makes your gut erupt with butterflies, a sensation that would normally make you a little uncomfortable. With Steve, you’d take the butterflies all day long.

He gives you a cursory and oversimplified tour of the ground floor before leading you upstairs, and suddenly he’s sheepish. It’s been a few moons since he shared his room with a girl, so the nerves are justified. But that’s too simple an explanation. You’re not a girl. You’re his dream, his muse, his–to re-quote himself–goddess. No one he’s ever cared about more has stood where you’re standing, and it terrifies him.

He hides it well, though, busying himself with making a comfortable nest for you in his bed before setting up the television set on the dresser against the far wall. If ever there was a time to regain his confidence, it’s now. He curses whatever god there is that he feels like a fumbling virgin in this moment when nothing is even happening, when just the anticipation is enough to make his hands tremble.

There’s no more stalling once you’re comfortable and the tape is set to play. His heart pounds to the steady and frantic rhythm of one of those heavy rock songs Dustin listens to now as he sits next to you, hands itching to take a hold of you but also eager not to move too fast.

Almost as if you can sense his hesitation, you reach over and take his hand. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

And so he does, and the second his lips slot to yours all the worry and anxiety is gone. He’s Steve Harrington, and he knows what he’s doing. You’re you, and he’s wanted this for so long. After years of being lost, he deserves to finally find the love he’s been looking for. He’s never been so sure of anything as he is, in this moment of initial clarity, that he’s in love with you.

He can’t say it, not yet. He’s sure it’s too soon, and the last thing he wants is to scare you off. But he’s determined to prove it to you, and the only way besides words is action.

He can handle action.

There’s no more restraint or hesitation behind his touch. This is it, this is what you’ve both been waiting for. There’s no way in hell he’s not going to deliver now. He’s desperate for you, and it shows in the heavy way his hands drag along your curves whilst committing you to memory; the way his tongue languidly swipes across your bottom lip; the way he shifts effortlessly to hover over you even while deepening the kiss.

He’s overwhelming every single sense of yours in such a sudden fashion, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Especially not when his hips meet yours in a deliciously slow grind and you finally get your first little taste of what’s to come.

He keens at the little breathless whimpers that leave your mouth, reading every single signal you provide him with and accommodating each. Moaning? He continues what he’s doing, intensifying if deemed necessary. Whining? He adds something, because he knows it’s hard to use your words when you’re wanting so badly. Squirming? He pays attention to the direction of your movement and pulls away or presses closer depending on necessity. It’s down to science for him; he only really cared about extracurriculars in school anyway, and this was certainly his favorite.

But then he comes to his senses–while he doesn’t pull away completely, he needs to clear his mind and he does so by letting up a bit, allowing the kiss to become languid and the heat to extinguish a bit. It only makes you whine more, and Steve curses his damned formula. You shouldn’t be part of an equation. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, and every aspect of your relationship so far has been a new experience for him. He needs this particular activity to be different too. No formulas or calculations. Just you and him and whatever happens naturally.

Clearly you can hear the cogs in his mind turning. You pull away with a concerned look on your face and ask, “what’s on your mind?”

Now’s not the time to hide anything from you, he reasons with himself. He wants to be authentic with you, and part of that means telling the truth, even if it’s not something particularly comfortable.

“I’m… falling into a routine. And I don’t want to,” he admits. He sighs and leans back, one hand dragging through his shaggy and disheveled hair, sure that he’s going to ruin the mood if he carries on like this. But he refuses to back away from the truth now. “This… it’s always been like…. Like a series of checkpoints. Boxes to check, y’know? Kiss you, take your clothes off, make you come, fuck you, say goodnight. And I don’t want… I can’t let it be like that with you. I need this to be… real. Not just some list to cross shit off of. I don’t–”

Steve takes a long, shaky breath before he can ramble on anymore. Never has someone so thoroughly gotten under his skin. He’s never felt so insecure, so unsure. It’s terrifying. The most terrifying part of it all, though, is that he likes it. He loves the feeling of the unfamiliarity, of doing this right. In a way, it’s almost like he’s doing all of this for the first time all over again. You’re his first date, first kiss, first time. All because he’s changed so drastically, because he’s not even remotely the same person he was just a year or two ago.

Your hands are so gentle as you cup his face, tenderly forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Steve… we don’t have to do this, not if you’re not ready. I want to be with you, not just for this, but for everything. Everything that comes with you… that’s what I want. There’s no pressure. I would wait a hundred years for you to be ready so long as I could still have you.”

Steve’s breath shakes a little as he comprehends the gravity of your words. There’s nothing he can say that can properly convey the gratitude he holds for your words, so he says nothing at all.

In his silence, you continue. “You’re more than a body, you know that, right? You’re funny, and kind, and smart. Yes, smart, don’t look at me like that. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted to be close to. I just… I want to spend time with you. I want to watch stupid movies and eat diner food until we get sick and laugh at your stupid jokes… and maybe make love with you, sure, but that’s pretty low on the list as long as I just get to be with you.”

He doesn’t notice the tears until it’s too late–by the time you’re wiping them from the apples of his cheeks it’s far too late to take them back or hide them. With anyone else, he would be angry; at himself, for allowing himself to be so vulnerable. For allowing himself to be so emotional. With you, though… with you, his emotions make him feel strong.

For the first time since you walked into his life, he’s not scared of losing you.

“I love you,” he tells you. His voice is firm, as fierce as the kiss he presses to your mouth, as powerful as the waves of emotion vibrating through his very soul. “I love you so much.”

He barely gives you a chance to reply, as keen as he is on physically proving his love to you through myriad passionate kisses that leave you breathless. But when you finally get the chance to use your voice after a barrage of kisses that start to trail down your neck, you whisper, “I love you too.”

Four words, and they’re all he needs to quell every worry or fear he’s had over doing this relationship properly with you. Why should he have to worry, after all, when he’s already succeeded?

“I love you,” he whispers as he trails down your neck and to your chest, leaving tender love bites on the tops of your breasts once he’s properly liberated you from your shirt.

“I love you,” he mumbles through sucking a mark a few inches north of your navel.

“I love you,” he murmurs when his lips meet your waistband. His fingers make quick work of your pants as he scatters kisses over your stomach, unable to part his mouth from your skin for even a moment.

“I love you,” he affirms as his mouth meets your hot and waiting core.

There’s no more checklist. Because this isn’t simply sex, as it always has been for him in the past. This is love-making: the kind of sappy shit they talk about in all those Hallmark movies that he rolls his eyes at the sight of. It’s like losing his virginity all over again.

He understands the old adage of “the other half” now. You’ve ripped him to shreds and sewed him back together with strands of yourself. The end result is better than the original ever could’ve even dreamed to be. He’s sure he couldn’t possibly live without you now, that losing you would be like ripping out fresh and unhealed stitches.

You’re not sure how long he camps out between your trembling thighs, but it’s long enough for you to lose count of the number of times he pulls you apart–first with his languid tongue; then his long, curved fingers; then a combination of the two. It’s like he loses himself completely in your pleasure, not a single thought in his head except what he can do to bring you to the edge again, and again, and again.

You’re trembling with oversensitivity by the time his own needs overtakes his desperation to unravel you. So out of it that you feel drunk, like Steve’s laced you with absolute bliss so pure you can barely stand it.

You’re hardly present enough to appreciate the adonis before you when he finally undoes his own jeans, and that’s a damned shame because he’s so damned pretty. Long and thick, flushed at the girthy tip from his hitherto unacknowledged arousal. His lean thighs are pure muscle, and the dark thatch of hair that trails south from his navel makes your mouth water. He’s everything you dreamed he’d be and so much more.

“Steve…” You don’t know what else you can possibly say. All you can do is vainly hope that one whine of his name can convey all of the heat, frustration, tension, and above all longing, swirling through your head in the moment.

He breaks from his lustful reverie for a moment to smile as he leans in for another heated kiss; you think it’s safe to say you’ve gotten your point across.

He slows from his mania for a few moments, lips tender as they explore against yours once more. These kisses are languid, slow, yet no less heated. Even now, he’s trying to prove his love to you. As if you could somehow not believe him after everything that’s happened, every small moment you’ve spent with him witnessing how hard he’s trying for you.

Somewhere in between kisses he manages to wrestle a condom out of his nightstand, miraculously without ever breaking from your lips.

Now is where you cut in, finally fading out of your over-pleasured fugue and back to reality. You take the little foil packet from his hands and tear it open, eager for this small chance to finally get a hand or two on him.

He lets out the most gorgeous noise you’ve ever heard as you roll the rubber down his length; a deep, earthy, diaphragmatic moan just from the simple touch of your hand. You want to touch him even more, to wrest out more of those sounds from him; to see what other undiscovered responses you can pull from him as you pleasure him. But you know that now, he needs to set the pace. He believes he has something to prove, and you’re more than happy to let him prove it. There will be plenty of other opportunities to have him completely at your mercy, anyway.

There’s no way to describe the feeling as he slides into you. It’s more than bliss, more than euphoria, more than earth-shattering toe-curling mind-altering pleasure. It’s nothing more than feeling whole. Of never knowing you were missing a part of yourself until it’s suddenly returned to you. Of never knowing what home felt like until this exact moment.

Maybe it’s overdramatic. Maybe it’s outlandish and outrageous and a million other adjectives to feel something so overpowering and overwhelming from such a seemingly simple physical act. But in this moment, you know you’ve never felt anything as right as being connected to Steve in this way.

His lips hardly leave yours while he rolls his hips against you, easily finding the perfect angle to make your breath hitch and your hands scrabble for purpose.

It admittedly doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t have to. Once you start to tighten and pulse around him, he’s a goner–deep purposeful thrusts turning to hard, arrhythmic plunges in desperate search of release.

You’re still shaking from your high when he slowly pulls out of you. He keeps you close, arms linked around your waist and dragging you to lay on his chest as he flops back against the pillows.

You’re not sure how long you lay like that, with Steve whispering sweet nothings into your hair and pressing absentminded kisses to your face. All you can really focus on is one all-consuming, life-changing fact.

“I love you, Steve Harrington.”

“I love you too,” he whispers back. He kisses you again, just a simple peck on your lips, and you know that he’s telling the truth. It’s an eternal truth: one that can’t be changed or altered in any way. Steve Harrington loves you with every fibre of his being, and he will for the rest of his life–even if you’re both blissfully unaware of it for now.

THE END

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pickingupmymercedes · 6 months ago

Text

All these little things pt.2 - Lewis Hamilton

The other 9 snippets of fluff (as promised) - If you want here's the first batch - All these little things

Also there's 20 more fluffs just like these ones here - Ways to say I love you and Ways to say I love you pt. 2

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

wordcount: +3k

a/n: More fluffs, because we need it! Also, some of the prompts I used here were requests, so if you'd like a specific drabble do send them in and I'll put them in a potential new part?!

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

Adventures

The crisp autumn air danced through Y/N's hair as she tossed a worn leather satchel into the back of Lewis's sleek car. A mischievous glint twinkled in her eyes as she turned to face him, holding a folded roadmap in her hand.

"Okay, champ" she declared, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Ready for an adventure?"

Lewis, not yet totally used to her spontaneous ideas, raised an eyebrow. " What kind of adventure?"

"The kind where you're in charge," Y/N announced, thrusting the map towards him. "Today, you're the navigator, and we're going wherever you point on this map."

Confusion flickered across Lewis's face. "No destination? You serious?"

"Absolutely serious," Y/N confirmed, her grin widening. "I drive, you tell where to. Consider it a chance to reconnect with your inner explorer."

Lewis chuckled, the challenge sparking a competitive glint in his eyes. "Alright. But don't blame me if we end up lost in the middle of nowhere."

With a playful swat at his arm, Y/N climbed into the driver’s seat. Lewis unfurled the map across his lap, his brow furrowing as he studied the intricate network of roads.

"Let's head for the mountains. Looks scenic." he announced, pointing at a winding route that snaked through a vibrant green patch on the map.

Lewis, tried to meticulously charted their course. Y/N, on the other hand, reveled in the unexpected detours – a charming roadside diner with a menu scribbled on a chalkboard, a hidden waterfall cascading down moss-covered rocks, a winding country road lined with vibrant yellow leaves.

They got lost, of course. Inevitably, they took a wrong turn, the map momentarily betraying them with its two-dimensional representation of a world full of surprises. But instead of frustration, a shared amusement filled the car. They stopped and asked for directions at a quaint gas station, the attendant drawing a squiggly line on their map with a permanent marker.

As the day wore on, he realized they weren't just exploring new places, they were rediscovering each other.

They talked about everything and nothing, their conversation flowing as effortlessly as the winding roads they traversed. Lewis, usually focused on the finish line, reveled in the simple joy of the journey. Y/N embraced the freedom of not knowing what lay ahead.

By the time the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the landscape, they found themselves at a secluded beach, the golden sand kissed by the retreating waves. They sat in comfortable silence on the hood of the car, watching the fiery hues paint the sky, a shared sense of accomplishment settling over them.

"So" Lewis finally spoke, his voice tinged with wonder, "lost or found?"

Y/N turned towards him, a smile gracing her lips. "A little bit of both," she replied. "We might not have known where we were going, but we definitely found something."

Lewis leaned in, his lips brushing against hers. The journey, with all its twists and turns, had been a reminder that sometimes, the most beautiful destinations were the ones discovered along the way.

Naptime Cuddles

The roar of the crowds had faded into a distant memory, replaced by the gentle hum of the air conditioner and the rhythmic rise and fall of Lewis' chest beside her. A street lamp illuminated the room in the late afternoon, painting dappled patterns across the plush white duvet. Y/n snuggled deeper into Lewis' embrace, the familiar scent of his bodywash a comforting balm.

The post-race adrenaline rush had finally subsided, leaving behind a pleasant exhaustion. The flight back from had been a blur of cramped airplane seats and fitful sleep. But in the quiet sanctuary of their home, true relaxation finally claimed her.

One of his arms was draped possessively across her waist, his fingers unconsciously tracing circles on the small of her back. The warmth of his body was a comforting weight against hers, a silent invitation to surrender to sleep.

Y/n shifted slightly, her head burrowing into the crook of his neck. A contented sigh escaped her lips, and she felt Lewis stir beside her.

"Still awake, love?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

Y/n hummed in response, nuzzling closer. The sound seemed to be all the answer Lewis needed. He wrapped his arm tighter around her, his breathing falling back into a steady rhythm.

Silence settled over the room once more, broken only by the soft sounds of their sleep. The weight of the trophy he'd secured earlier that day seemed insignificant compared to the quiet comfort of this moment. For Lewis, victory wasn't just about the checkered flag; it was about the moments of peace that followed, moments shared with those he loved, where he could simply be Lewis, and the world could wait.

As sleep finally claimed Y/n, a single thought drifted through her mind – this, the quiet intimacy of a shared nap after a hard-fought win, was a victory all its own.

Season Calendar

The crisp scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the faint aroma of toast as Y/N fumbled with the calendar sprawled across the kitchen island. Lewis, a gentle smile playing on his lips, watched her wrestle with colored pens and sticky notes.

"So, Australia's a definite yes" Y/N declared, highlighting the season opener in Melbourne with a flourish. "Suzuka, is my favorite" she added, etching a bright pink heart beside the Japanese Grand Prix. "Miami for the after-race parties."

Lewis chuckled. "Since when did you become a party animal?"

Y/N winked. "Don't underestimate the allure of a good poolside DJ after a long race weekend."

Their fingers brushed as she reached for a blue sticky note, marking their planned trip to New York just before Monaco. "Monaco it’s…well, it’s Monaco," she continued, a playful glint in her eyes.

"Maybe another European race before Silverstone?" Lewis suggested, tracing a finger across the calendar. "Spa or Monza?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment. "Hm… I’d say Monza. Oh, and Silverstone's too," she declared, scribbling her name beside the British Grand Prix. "Promise to your mom"

A grin spread across Lewis's face. "Right"

"Monza," she added after a thoughtful pause "because it's your first race in Italia, as a Ferrari driver."

Lewis's eyes softened. "It is."

She nodded, a mischievous glint returning soon after. "Singapore, too. Night race fix."

As she marked Interlagos in São Paulo with a heart even bigger than Suzuka's, a blush crept onto her cheeks as Lewis smiled at her antics. "It’s your second home race and that little beach vacation before Vegas is too tempting to resist."

Vegas, the season finale, received a quick tick with her name next to it.

"Abu Dhabi for the closing ceremony?" she mused, tapping the last race tentatively.

Lewis raised an eyebrow. "You're practically attending the entire season, love" he teased with a hint of amusement in his voice.

Y/N looked up, feigning innocence. "Am I? It doesn't seem like that many."

Lewis laughed, shaking his head. "Babe, you've mapped out nearly the whole calendar”

"Well, someone has to support you, champion," she replied, a playful jab disguised by a loving smile. "Plus, there's the cultural immersion, the delicious food, the..."

"The endless supply of post-race champagne?" he finished her sentence, a knowing grin on his face.

Y/N winked. "There might be some of that too."

Tough Race

The air in the motorhome hung heavy, a stark contrast to the usual pre-race buzz. Lewis sat slumped on the plush couch, his helmet resting dejectedly on the coffee table. The screen of his phone displayed the stark reality – a disappointing qualifying position and a car that no one understood.

Y/N watched him from across the room, her heart heavy with empathy. She knew Lewis thrived on competition, on pushing himself to the limit. Seeing him so dispirited was a sight that tugged at her soul.

Placing her laptop aside, she walked over to him. Without a word, she sat beside him on the couch, her hands instinctively reaching for his shoulders. He flinched slightly at the touch, as if startled from his introspection.

"Tough day, huh?" she asked softly, her voice barely a whisper.

He sighed; the sound heavy with disappointment. "Yeah," he mumbled, avoiding her gaze. "Just feels like everything's going wrong."

Y/N remained silent, allowing him to express his frustration without words. She knew that sometimes, the most comforting thing was a quiet presence, a silent acknowledgment of his struggle. After a moment, he lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers. They held a vulnerability she rarely saw, a glimpse of the man beneath the champion's mask.

"Come here" she said gently, opening her arms for him to fall into. He leaned closer, his head resting on her chest. Instinctively, her fingers reached for his scalp, their gentle pressure working their way through his braids. It was a routine they'd developed over the years, a silent language of love and support.

As her fingers began a soothing massage, kneading away tension at the base of his skull, a soft sigh escaped Lewis's lips. His muscles, which had been coiled tight with frustration, started to relax under her touch.

"You have the talent, Lewis," she began, her voice barely louder than a whisper but filled with warmth "You have the dedication. This is just a bump in the road."

They sat in comfortable silence, the only sound the rhythmic hum of the motorhome and the gentle ministrations of her hands. Slowly, a spark of his usual fire began to return to his eyes.

"Next year can’t come soon enough" he finally murmured, his voice regaining its strength. "I’ll be the one in red waiting for you” her lips close to his ears, attesting to her loyalty to him.

Workouts

Sweat beaded on Y/N's forehead, blurring her vision slightly as she pounded the treadmill. The rhythmic thump of her feet echoed in the home gym, the only sound competing with the pulsing techno beat blasting through her headphones. She was lost in the zone, pushing herself further with each passing minute. Today's run was all about endurance, a long, slow burn to build her stamina.

Suddenly, a flicker of movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She glanced over, momentarily breaking her focus, to see Lewis bent over a weight bench, curls glinting in the afternoon sun streaming through the window. He was shirtless, his muscles flexing with each controlled rep.

Y/N looked away, forcing her gaze back to the treadmill display. “Great”, she thought, cheeks burning. “Now you're distracted.” She tried to refocus on her breathing, on the rhythm of her run, but the image of Lewis, sculpted and confident, kept intruding on her thoughts.

A mischievous glint entered Lewis's eyes. He knew he had her attention, even if she wouldn't admit it. With a slow, deliberate movement, he placed the dumbbells down and reached for the hem of his workout shirt. A slow peel, a suggestive glance thrown in Y/N's direction, and the shirt landed discarded on the floor.

Y/N let out a groan of frustration, more with herself than anything else. This was supposed to be a focused workout, not a session in ogling her impossibly attractive boyfriend. She cranked up the volume on her headphones, willing herself to ignore the blatant display happening across the room.

But Lewis wasn't done yet. He sauntered closer to the treadmill, a playful grin on his face. "Need anything?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

Y/N gritted her teeth, refusing to make eye contact. "Nope, all good here" she mumbled, her voice strained.

Lewis chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "Alright, but if you do, I’ll be right here" he teased, leaning against the treadmill console, effectively blocking her view of the television and forcing her to acknowledge his presence.

Y/N glared at him, a flicker of amusement battling with her annoyance. "Seriously? I'm trying to work out here."

"And I'm trying to offer some motivation," he countered, his eyes twinkling. A small smile tugged at the corner of Y/N's lips. "Fine," she conceded, a playful challenge in her voice. "If you're so good at motivating, why don't you join me for a run?"

Lewis's grin widened. " Was just waiting for you to ask."

Grocery Shopping

Jet lag, like an unwelcome koala clinging to their luggage, had followed Y/N and Lewis all the way from Europe to Australia.

Yawns punctuated the silence as they stood in the brightly lit grocery store aisle, their usual meticulous list forgotten somewhere in their luggage.

"Alright," Lewis announced, rubbing his eyes "Essentials: Bread, milk, some fruit..."

Y/N's stomach rumbled loudly, betraying her fatigue. " chocolate… " she mumbled, grabbing the first bar her hand encountered, a garishly pink confection with a name that promised "explosive berry flavor".

Lewis chuckled. "Y/N, love. Maybe we prioritize some greens? " He reached for a bag of pre-washed salad mix.

"Fine." she conceded with a sigh, "But we're getting ice cream. My brain cells need a sugar rush."

He shook his head fondly, adding a carton of plant-based milk to the basket. "Alright, sugar monster."

Y/N scanned the shelves, her eyes landing on a display of colorful cocktail umbrellas. " Lewis" she said, her voice tinged with mischief "think these would look good on an Almave cocktail?"

Lewis raised an eyebrow as she shrugged, a playful smile on her lips. "Just planning ahead"

Alright" he conceded, tossing a pack of the umbrellas into the basket. " Healthy stuff now, babe. We need to get through the week"

Y/N groaned dramatically. "Ugh. Let me get some of those roasted chickpeas they have by the checkout, at least. They're practically healthy, right?"

Lewis laughed, pulling her close for a quick kiss as she reached for some sort of processed sugar. "Roasted chickpeas it is."

Weird dreams

Sunlight streamed through the blinds, painting golden stripes across the bedroom floor. Y/N stretched luxuriously, the remnants of a strange dream clinging to the edges of her consciousness.

"Lew" she mumbled, reaching for him on the other side of the bed. His side was cold, the sheets neatly pulled back. She sat up, a frown creasing her brow. "Lewis?" she called out a little louder.

He emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his hip, a face cream in his hand. "Morning, love" he greeted with a sleepy smile.

"Good morning" Y/N replied, her voice laced with a hint of confusion. "You were gone?" She gestured to the empty space beside her.

He paused, a puzzled look replacing his smile. "Gone? I haven't left the bed all night."

"Oh" Y/N said, feeling a wave of disorientation. "Must have been the dream then."

Lewis raised an eyebrow. " What kind of dream?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment, the strangeness of it all making her smile. "Well," she began, "It was the weirdest thing. We were both at the factory, but you were giving a motivational speech... to a room full of chickens."

Lewis burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the room as he doubled over, wiping tears from his eyes.

Y/N couldn't help but join in his laughter, the absurdity of the dream washing away the lingering confusion. As they lay back down in bed, Lewis pulled her close, y/n laying her head on his chest.

"So," Lewis said, his voice tinged with amusement "what motivational speech did I give to the chickens?"

Y/N snuggled closer, a playful glint in her eyes. "Oh, you know, the usual," she said, her voice laced with laughter. "Conquer the coop, dream big, peck your way to the top."

Lewis chuckled, nuzzling his face into her hair. "Sounds like something I’d say"

Y/N swatted him playfully on the arm. "Hey, maybe even chickens need a little inspiration sometimes.” a smile playing on her lips and he squeezed her softly.

Sickness

A crumpled ball of tissues lay discarded beside Y/N on the couch, a relentless battle she'd been waging with a head cold all morning. Her throat felt like sandpaper, and her entire body ached with a dull misery. Across from her, Lewis, usually thinking of what to do next, sat slumped on the armchair, a mug of lukewarm tea clutched in his hand.

"Alright," Lewis declared, pushing himself up from the chair with a grimace, "I'm going to tackle those emails. You just relax on the couch some more."

Y/N croaked out a protest. "Lewis, you look like you could use the couch more than me. Those dark circle under your eyes look awful.

He swiped a hand across his forehead, a frown creasing his brow. "Nothing to worry, love. Probably just didn’t get enough sleep."

Y/N sighed, a weary smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Ever the workaholic, even a mild illness couldn't keep him from his commitments. "Alright" she conceded, her voice hoarse, "but promise me you'll rest too?”

He flashed a reassuring smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Of course, lovely." He retreated to his office, leaving Y/N alone with the sniffles and the blaring silence of the weekend they'd both been looking forward to.

She tried to sleep, to watch tv, to lose herself in a book, but her eyes burned in their sockets. Frustrated, she finally reached for the thermometer. The red mercury climbing far too high for comfort.

Panic clawed at her throat. Lewis couldn't be getting sick too, not with his packed schedule for the next two months. Steeling herself, she pushed off the couch and made her way to the office. Lewis sat hunched over his laptop, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Lew" she said softly, her voice thick with concern.

He looked up, startled. The feverish flush on his cheeks was undeniable now.

"What’s up babe?" he mumbled, his voice raspy

"You're burning up," she declared, placing a hand on his forehead. "We both are."

He let out a shaky sigh, finally acknowledging the truth. "This is the worst timing." he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Y/N hugged his shoulders from behind his desk chair, her heart softening at his dejection. "All we can do is focusing on getting better" she said gently.

Lewis turned to look at her, his eyes filled with a grateful vulnerability. "Yeah" he conceded, a tired smile gracing his lips. "Let’s go back to bed then, we're watching all the cheesy rom-coms we can handle.”

Y/N laughed a bit before suddenly turning her head to the side to sneeze, a chuckle coming from Lewis as he got up and embraced her. "Deal" she finally agreed.

Morning rituals

A faint sunlight danced playfully across the open space of the kitchen; Lewis’ heavy steps caught y/n attention as the aroma of brewing coffee gently invited him to greet the day. A soft groan escaped his lips as he stretched, muscles protesting.

"Rough night, champ?" A voice, laced with amusement, drifted in from the kitchen. Lewis cracked open an eye mid-stretch to see Y/n leaning against the island, a steaming mug in hand.

"Just a bit" he admitted, a smile tugging at his lips as he flopped down on the sofa "That car is giving me a real workout."

Y/n chuckled, padding across the room and placing the mug on the coffee table "Well, here’s some fuel." She leaned down, brushing a kiss across his forehead, the scent of her minty shampoo lingering in the air.

Lewis inhaled deeply, the familiar scent a welcome comfort. He reached out, his hand landing on hers. "You shouldn't have gotten up so early" he mumbled, squeezing her fingers gently.

"Nah" Y/n replied, settling onto his lap "Early mornings are my secret weapon. Peace and quiet before the world wakes up."

Lewis raised an eyebrow. "You mean to tell me Roscoe snoring and the fog outside are your weapons?"

Y/n laughed, caressing his beard. "It might not be perfect, but it’s mine."

A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the soft clinking of mugs against the table’s glass. Lewis took a sip of his coffee, savoring the warmth that spread through him.

"So," Y/n began, a thoughtful look on her face as she slid to the sofa and rested her head on his shoulders "what's on the agenda for today?"

Lewis set down his mug. "Just some online meetings with the engineers in the afternoon. We can have a lazy morning if you’re not busy" his hopeful tone hung in the air for a beat too long.

Y/n took a slow sip from her mug, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Actually," she said, a playful smile tugging at the corner of her lips, "I woke up feeling surprisingly productive. Maybe I'll finally tackle that mountain of emails I've been putting off." A flicker of disappointment crossed Lewis' face, until he realized what y/n had actually just said, quickly stamping a playful smirk and a light grab of her ass. "The hell you are."

______________________________________________________________

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@fearfam69691 @cmleitora

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#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic

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strawberryspence · 2 years ago

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They both have different stories when asked, "When did you first meet?"

Steve says it was in school, along the hallways with freshman Steve Harrington and sophomore Eddie Munson locking eyes for the first time. Eddie says it was in a party, drinking beer and selling drugs, a transaction.

Annalyn Harrington knows the truth. The truth that way before monsters, way before creatures from games came true, way before the end of the world, way before everything, that Eddie and Steve have already met.

Annalyn remembers it, so vividly at the back of her mind. She babysits her nephew— her younger sister, Amanda's son— so often. Steve is an angel, so innocent and kind. Annalyn often questions as to how Richard Harrington could've ever had a son so pure and good.

She remembers that day. It was a bright spring day, with fresh daisies growing on the fields and birds chirping in excitement.

Annalyn takes Steve out of his school a few hours early, takes him to eat at his favorite diner. When Steve begs for her to take him to the park, telling her he really wants to play and how could she say no to those brown eyes?

It's relatively empty when they arrive at the park. It's only after lunch and the kids are still in class. But there's one kid playing in the swings, his hair is curly at the ends, wearing a tattered jacket as he kicks the sands. His guardian— a man sitting on the only bench— is watching him closely. He's frowning, deep in thought.

"Go play. Be nice." Annalyn reminds Steve, more as a habit rather than a reminder. She knows Steve will be kind, it's engraved in his soul.

Annalyn sits beside the man, quietly watching as they hear Steve introduce himself to the kid.

"Hello! I am Steve!" She hears him say, waving slightly at the kid.

The kid looks at him, blinks for a few seconds before he says his name. They chatter for a few more minutes, Steve asks if he wants to be pushed and the boy says yes.

Annalyn turns to the man, "Is that your son?"

The man turns to her, "I— Yes— No— It's complicated." He sighs, gritting his teeth so hard Annalyn can see his jaw clenching, "He's my nephew. I just got custody of him today."

"Oh." Annalyn breathes out, looking back at the kid who's now pushing Steve instead. Both laughing and giggling.

"I don't know what I am doing. I can barely take care of myself, let alone a child." The man continues, clearly frustrated and scared, "But he's never got a good home and I want to give that to him."

Annalyn smiles, "Just the fact that you want to give him a good home is telling me that you'll be just fine. Don't overthink it, life's too short for that."

The man blinks at her, and it's almost the same as the look the small boy gave to Steve, "Thank you." He says, finally smiling and looking back at the kids, running around and playing tag with each other.

"Steve's your boy?" He asks.

Annalyn smiles, "Yeah, he's my boy. Not my son, just my nephew. But I love him like he's mine."

The man softens, nodding along like he completely understands— which he does.

They spend half of the afternoon there. Just playing, rolling around the grass, swinging each other in the swings. Just before the sun sets, Annalyn asks Steve to say goodbye to the boy.

There's daisies tucked in his hair like flower crowns, and she sees the other boy, with a flower tucked behind his ear. They're whispering, too intimate for a simple goodbye.

Steve waves at the boy, head sticking out of the car, waving until they can barely see the other boy anymore and until they turn the block.

When Steve sits, he turns to her and with his big brown eyes blown wide, with his whole heart in his hands and says, "I am going to marry that boy."

And Annalyn steps on the break, turns to the side of the road and has to turn to her nephew and look at him— really, look at him. Steve smiles at her, toothy and all gummy, determination bleeding in his eyes. The flowers the boy Steve just said he's going to marry still hanging from his hair.

She can't help but smile, moving closer to kiss his temple.

"Alright, Mr. Lover." Steve giggles, and she wants to hear it for the rest of her life, want to shield him from all the horrors of this world.

"Listen to me, okay?" Steve nods, "There's nothing wrong with wanting to marry a boy. But you have to promise me something, Steve? Okay?"

He nods, earnest, "It needs to be our little secret for now, okay? You have to promise me."

Steve's face droop into sadness, "Why?"

Annalyn's heart breaks into pieces, "Because people don't like it when a boy wants to marry another boy. There's nothing wrong with it, but they will hurt you and they will hurt that boy."

"They can't hurt him!" Steve protests.

"I know, honey. That's why we have to keep it a secret for now."

"Okay," Steve nods, stoic and strong, "I'll protect him. I won't tell anyone. Promise."

Annalyn smiles, "Good job, Steve. I am proud of you."

They drive back home, have dinner and build forts in the spacious Harrington living room.

She remembers that day. The day Steve wanted to marry that boy. The daisies tucked in his hair. The other little boy beaming so brightly, like it's always been meant to be. The results of the tests. The cancer coming back. The chemo is not working. The time she has left. But most of all, she remembers Steve.

Annalyn dies six months after that exact day.

It's years and years later when the story is brought back up. On one random morning when Steve visits her grave, with a bunch of tulips in his hands. Steve tells the story of the boy with the daisies to his best friend, Robin, as they sit side by side by her grave. Steve tells her, that he never saw the boy again.

Annalyn laughs as she listens.

She laughs, as another boy comes out of no where, picnic basket in hands, and daisies in the other.

"Eddie! You're late!" Steve exclaims, making the other boy roll his eyes. The boy looks different now, with longer hair, a look in his eyes that is way beyond his age. But he's happier, older.

"I am sorry, Stevie. But I picked you this."

They lay the blanket, and eat with her, just like old times, just with new friends. Annalyn wishes she could say hello, and formally meet his friends. The friends that sticked with Steve even in life or death situations.

Steve cleans her grave, "Auntie, we're here for a reason. I have some news."

Annalyn raises her eyebrows, "Eddie and I— We're engaged."

"I hope to God you don't haunt me. I just want your approval." Eddie says, making Steve laugh. It's the same sound as when he was a kid, and only Eddie (and his found family) can elicit it from him nowadays.

"Anyway, it's not legal or anything. But we're doing it with family, you know?" Steve plays with the ring in his hand, just a simple golden band, "I wish you were here."

Annalyn wants to tell him that she is, that she's always here, "I wanted you to walk me down the aisle. I want you to meet Eddie."

They stay for a few more minutes, before they finally start packing up and cleaning.

Just before they leave, Steve whispers to her grave, "Come to my wedding, okay? Move a few glasses. Maybe say hi to El or something. Just be there, please?"

Annalyn laughs, and nods, and promises that she'll be there. She watches as Steve and Eddie, hands intertwined, walk together as Robin starts the car.

Steve turns one last time, waves at her grave, his engagement ring catching sunlight and beaming. There's daisies tucked in his back pocket, like a reminder, that everything has been set from the moment we were born.

If there's one thing about Steve, he's a stubborn, determined kid.

Annalyn smirks, "Son of a bitch, Steve really is marrying the daisy boy."

→ Wayne's POV

#what is my obsession with flowers #damn #steddie rants #dae writes #daeheadcanons #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie #steddie headcanons #steddie ficlet #steddie fics #steddie headcanon #steddie fanfic #tw illness #tw cancer #tw minor character death

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lilacheavenxo · 3 months ago

Text

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 ➸ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐫𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨

summary: carmen's girlfriend gets a job offer too good to pass up, he doesn't want her to take it. word count: warnings: angst, hurt (minimal comfort), misogyny, swearing, toxicity, timeline is sketchy, third person, unnamed ofc (she's a blank slate), light sexual content

The sound of the faucet dripping in the kitchen was the only sound coming from the otherwise silent apartment.

It was always silent nowadays.

She sat in the living room, wringing her hands together nervously as she fought the urge to re-read the email on her cellphone, which had been tossed on the coffee table in a haste.

The email bore good news. She had been waiting for an offer like that for most of her adult life—finally, an opportunity to do what she loved and be paid for it.

She had been a musician for as long as she could remember. Her dad had bought her a guitar for her ninth birthday, and from that moment, she knew exactly what she wanted to do with her life. She had spent her college fund on moving to New York, a dream of making it big clouding any smidge of rationality an eighteen-year-old could possess.

It hadn't worked out the way she wanted, and she was forced to move back to Chicago without a dollar to her name. Living with her parents and waiting tables for a living, she would play gigs in dive bars whenever she got the chance - a pathetic reminder of her failure.

It hadn't been all bad. One of those dive bar gigs was how she met Carmen Berzatto, at least.

He had walked into the bar halfway through her set, and, despite the white light in her eyes, she noticed him immediately. He was trying to blend in, his shoulders slumped as he made his way to the bar, hanging his head down as soon as he had ordered his drink, but she still saw him.

He had complimented her when her set ended and she slid onto the barstool next to his.

"You have a nice voice."

Everything following that night had happened quickly - too quickly.

They were friends first. He would come into the bar whenever he could, maybe stop at the diner where she worked on his way to work, and she would meet him at his restaurant when everybody had left, sitting on his work station, watching him sweep the floor.

Nothing had happened between them until after she had moved in with him. He had offered her his spare room after she finished another rant about how pathetic it was to live with her parents at her age.

She had only slept in the spare room for one week.

She loved Carmen Berzatto, and she was sure he loved her too, though he never said it. She didn't take it personally; when he responded to her declarations with a smile or a kiss, she knew he was just scared.

"You make me happy," he would whisper to her in the quiet apartment when he returned home at an ungodly hour.

That was good enough for her.

The jingling of keys in the lock snapped her out of her thoughts. She sat up straighter on the couch, waiting until Carmen appeared in the living room, his head down and shoulders slumped.

"He jumped slightly when he spotted her on the couch, a dim lamp illuminating the living room.

"You're still up?" he asked, as he made his way to the couch and threw himself down next to her.

She hummed in response, moving closer to him and resting her head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around her shoulders.

"How was your day?" she mumbled, already knowing what his answer would be.

"Same as usual. Fuckin' bullshit."

"Wanna talk about it?" She knew the answer to that one, too.

"No."

"Wanna talk at all?" she asked, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. She rested her hand on the spot she had kissed, gently pulling his head down to meet her mouth with his. He sighed into the kiss, his arm moving from her shoulder to cup her neck. As he deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into her mouth, he let out a laugh when she swung her legs over him, positioning herself to straddle him.

"You seem happy," he mumbled when she moved her lips to his neck, grazing her teeth against his adam's apple as her hands began to move lower, fliddling with the buckle of his belt.

"I got some good news today, feel like celebrating," she said.

"Oh yeah?" Carmen asked, a gasp escaping his lips when her hand moved to cup him through his jeans. "What news?"

"I'll tell you later."

"Tell me now, I wanna celebrate with you," he gently grabbed her arm, linking her hand in his. Her lips paused on his neck, and he could feel the smile creeping up on her face.

"Okay," she relented, lifting her head up to rest her forehead against his. "You remember Callum?"

Carmen frowned, trying to recall, but eventually shook his head and shrugged.

"Callum, Carmy," she said, eyes widening in disbelief when he shrugged again. "Callum! The guy I worked with in New York, he moved to Chicago last year and we played a gig together? He plays the guitar."

"Wait!" Carmen sat up straighter, and she held on to his shoulders as not to fall. "The creepy guy? The one that wouldn't leave you alone the whole night?"

"Creepy? What? No," she frowned. "Callum."

"Yeah," he nodded. "Creepy Callum, that's what we called him."

"We?"

"Me and Richie."

"Ugh," she groaned, sliding off his lap to sit beside him. "Callum isn't a creep, Carm. He's my friend."

"Anyone tell him that?"

She ignored him, wrapping arm arm around his shoulder, and resting her cheek against his. "You wanna hear my good news or not?"

"Sorry," Carmen sighed, leaning into her touch, and placing a hand on her knee. "Go on."

"Well," she tucked her legs under her thighs, leaning an elbow on the back of the couch to face him. "Callum's band have got this gig as a supporting artist for the US leg of this other guy's tour. He's not super famous or anything, but he's got a pretty big following, y'know?"

Carmen nodded, his eyes locked on hers, and he gestured for her to continue.

"Well," she said, rolling her eyes, "their lead singer left the band because of 'artistic differences' or whatever. And Callum has asked me to take her place! Can you believe it?" She squealed, grabbing his arm and shaking it slightly.

Carmen didn't respond, his body growing tense under touch, and the dazzling smile on her face slowly dropped at her boyfriend's silence.

"Carm?" she nudged him, lightly. "Isn't that great?"

"Yeah," he choked out, standing up from the couch and clearing his throat. "Yeah, congratulations, I guess."

He didn't look her in the eye as he headed towards the fire escape, muttering that he needed a smoke.

She didn't follow him.

An hour later, he climbed back through the window and sighed when he saw her still sitting on the couch, nervously chewing her thumbnail.

"We good, Carm?" she asked, her voice timid.

He ignored her question, leaning on the wall opposite the couch, and crossing his arms over his chest. "When?" he asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Uh, next month. It's short notice because of the other girl-"

"How long?"

"Like three months, there's only like two shows a week, maybe you could come and visit me-"

Carmen cut her off with a humourless laugh, sneering when he saw the confusion on her face.

"You're kidding, right?" he scoffed. "You know how busy I am. You think I can just drop everything to chase you around the fucking country?"

"No," she muttered. "No, of course not. I know how busy you are, Carmen." The bitterness in her tone was palpable.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," she shrugged, standing up from the couch and trying to push past him, but he blocked her path.

"If you've got something to say, say it," he said in a menacing tone, and she rolled her eyes in response.

"I have nothing to say to you."

She tried to move past him again, but he blocked her with his arm once more, his eyes piercing into hers. They stayed in a silent starting competition for what felt like hours before she scoffed, shaking her head.

"It's funny," she said. "You work endless hours at the restaurant, coming home at God knows what hour, and I support you because I love you and believe in your dreams. But you can't seem to do the same for me."

He threw his head back as he laughed, it was a cruel laugh, and it pierced her heart.

"Your dream?" he sneered, and she shrinked back. "Your fuckin' dream? Lemme tell you about your dream, sweetheart - it's pathetic." She shook her head at his words, but it didn't deter him. "You're a grown fucking woman still singing dive bars in Chicago! What? You think a tour of every dive bar in America with a few washed up assholes will finally be your big break?" he shook his head at her, crossing his arms over his chest. "Grow up."

He turned on his heel to leave the room, not interested in what she had to say, pausing in the doorway when she called out to him.

"I'm going on that tour, Carm. I sing because I enjoy it, because it brings me happiness. I'm not trying to prove anything to anyone. Unlike you."

He left the room, and the apartment, without another word.

Carmen didn't go home until the following evening.

He had gone straight to the Bear after their fight, not really having any other option, and sat in the office with his head in his hands for longer than he'd like to admit, the events of the evening repeating in his brain like a stupid pop song you can never get out of your head.

He shouldn't have reacted like that, he knew it.

A better man would have congratulated her.

A better man would have told her how proud he was, and pushed any doubt to the back of his mind and let her have her moment.

A better man wouldn't have belittled her achievement because of his own abandonment issues.

But, Carmen Berzatto wasn't a better man. He wasn't even sure he was a good one.

He thought about his family, how even in their most fucked up moments, they were always proud of him. They had never tried to force him to stay in Chicago when he had a better offer elsewhere, how they never dismissed his talents just because they didn't want him to leave.

He thought about Mikey. He thought about how he wouldn't let him work at 'The Beef', how bad that felt, but how Mikey was doing it for his own good. His brother wanted him to achieve things, wanted him to go out in the world and not be tied down by some toxic arrangement that would never make him happy.

He thought about how he hadn't done any of that for her.

He had been selfish.

He had talked down to her, patronised her, all because she would be gone for three months.

Three fucking months.

He fucked up.

He arrived back to the apartment the next evening, a box of cannolis from a bakery she liked under one arm, a bouquet of her favourite flowers under the other.

He wasn't good at apologies, especially in a relationship, but it was the best he could think of, and all he could do was pray she forgave him. She probably would, she always forgave him - even when he didn't deserve it.

Carmen had planned his apology the whole way home. He would hand her the cannolis and flowers, and he would tell her how proud he was of her, how he didn't care if she was going to be gone for a year - that he'd support her no matter what.

The apartment was silent when he entered, and eerily still. He called out her name and there was no response, but he expected that - she was a fan of the silent treatment, after all.

He checked the bedroom after his eyes scanned the living area and kitchen, not finding her there. The bed was perfectly made, no sign she had slept in it last night, amd the bathroom door was ajar, no sign of life anywhere.

He threw the gifts he got her on the bed, wiping his hands over his face as he made his way back to the living room and taking a seat on the couch, trying not to jump to the worst conclusion.

He noticed the folded up piece of paper on the coffee table after he removed his hands from his face, her cursive writing causing a sickening feeling to swirl in his stomach.

He unfolded the paper slowly, as if his patience would somehow change the words she had written on it.

Carmen,

Callum said I can crash at his apartment until we go on tour - it'll be good to get some rehearsals in.

When I get back, I think it's best we don't see each other.

I hope you'll be able to find what truly makes you happy.

I love you.

He threw the note to the ground, running his hands through his hair.

He fucked up.

#carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto imagine #the bear fanfiction

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kiachiako · 2 years ago

Text

stars, moons, & other celestial bodies | j.jh

pairing | jaehyun x female!reader

synopsis | With your fizzy drinks and vinyls in tow, you’re determined to make the most of your summer before the start of your first year at university. Everything’s seemingly perfect; humid afternoons with your closest friends, late-night mixers at your local alumnis' estates, and sleeping in to ungodly hours. What you didn’t predict, however, was your brother making the early trip home to surprise you with a certain someone — namely, his best friend since childhood — following closely behind. His unexpected appearance throws you off, and suddenly, your summer is filled to the brim with his presence. You’re finally able to taste the idea of mature love, but is it really all that it’s made out to be?

content | brother!taeyong, retro-themed au, angst, fluff, coming of age, language warning, suggestive, mentions and consumption of alcohol/drugs

wc | 26.7k

song | delicate — taylor swift

a/n | for @hyuckmov and @rrxnjun, who kept me sane while writing this monster :D

...

The first week of summer before your freshman year of university is defined by sticky ‘n sweet cherry cola, rides around the abandoned carousel with your friends, and “borrowing” quarters out of your brother’s Cadillac to insert into the jukebox of the local diner; break has been this way since as long as you could remember. It's a familiar itinerary, one that plays back routinely every school break.

You’ve grown up without even realizing, your teenage days spent juggling academic work and getting into stupid situations with Mark and Chaewon trickling down to a close. This conclusion really hit you during an epiphany on a sweltering night after high school graduation.

It occurred in the midst of humid sepia air, the three of you still in your graduation caps and gowns as your bodies lay splayed across the asphalt leading down to your street. With the absence of cars coming down the wide road, it was perfectly rational to lay side by side in the middle of the cul-de-sac. The ground was simply the best place to ponder your thoughts and get lost in swirling memories now that university lay too close on the horizon; the sheer size of the sky seemed to mock your trio as you watched the clouds roll on by in their mismatched shapes and harrowing wisps.

A cigar — one comically too big for his face — hung between Mark’s fingers as he pushed his body to flop over your arm, the thing no doubt “borrowed” from the bottom of his father’s office drawer.

“Thank the Lord I’ll never have to see you bitches again,” he had sighed in pretend relief, blowing a tunnel of smoke into the side of your face as you pushed his warm skin off of yours. Chaewon snorted from beside you.

“Please, as if you’ll last a day without us at uni,” she retorted, rolling over onto her stomach and pulling a face at Mark’s teasing words. “I can’t even count the amount of times I’ve saved your life over this past month alone.”

“Yeah?” Mark grinned, supporting his upper body with his forearms as he turned to look at her over your relaxed figure. “Enlighten me.” She subsequently raised her eyebrows at him.

“Might I remind you of the time you got stuck at the drive-through cinema at 2am because you had locked yourself out of your car? And guess whose asses had to haul yours back home two hours away,” Chaewon pointed an accusing finger at Mark, her tone joking as she glared at said boy. He opened his mouth to say something but she held up a finger to her mouth in a shushing motion, stopping him. “And. Let’s not forget last week,” Mark furrowed his eyebrows, as if trying to recall which out of all the dumb decisions he had made was about to be relived, “when Kang Yujin pushed up on you during that one house party, you got a hard on from just that, and we had to cover for you-”

Mark shot up abruptly, leaning over you to slap a hand over Chaewon’s mouth before rushing to defend himself.

“But she was so hot, Chae, you wouldn’t understand,” he whined at her, frowning at you to do something and sympathize with him. It was expected by now, the regular petty and half-assed arguments making your friendship that much stronger.

As they continued bickering back and forth, you couldn’t help but let your mind drift away back into the clouds, the setting sun soaking them with a blazing, burnt umber. You would be going to college soon, and that meant no Mark, no Chaewon, and no parents to keep you sane. It was strange to imagine not spending every waking moment with your two best friends, and even stranger to think that going to different schools would mean no more daily drama fill-ins and midnight convenience store runs.

But after all, you had done it once, and you hoped you could do it again.

When your older brother Taeyong left for university a few years ago, it had practically shattered you. Sure, you found him incredibly annoying at times (still do) and had a constant vendetta against the man, but when the moment came to hug him goodbye, you just couldn’t bring yourself to let go. He had shown you the ins and outs of adolescence and given you the attention you craved when your parents couldn’t. He taught you how to take care of yourself, how to look in the mirror and recognize your worth, how to know your own limits, and how to realize that high school boys weren’t shit. He was always the first to get to the hospital when you had gotten hurt at school, and most important of all, he was with you throughout the highs and lows growing up.

If Taeyong leaving home had taught you anything, it was that time moves too fast — and it’ll only move faster as you get older. You know that your life is about to enter Round 2, and this time without anyone to hold your hand as you enter an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people.

But it’s not over just yet.

Your best friends would never let that happen, and you recognize this now as your golden trio sits in your town’s local record shop, with ceiling fans whirring above you as the cool storefront protects you from the blazing summer heat.

It’s after-hours but the sun still burns bright into the late afternoon. You recline in the cashier chair as Chaewon flips the 'open' sign closed and makes her way back to you and Mark, the latter sitting against the wall with a variety of bottles surrounding him on the checkered floor.

He’s in an odd position, and you just know his mother would flip if she saw him with this much alcohol on a wednesday afternoon (at least it’s not a Sunday after mass, but she definitely doesn’t need to know that he’s been there, done that already). Mark tests out new concoctions every week, using the record store as his work space; the owner’s never in town and barely any customers come in to buy records these days, so there’s no one to stop him. Chaewon raises her eyebrows as she eyes the newest addition to his special menu.

“I’m not even gonna ask,” you say as he swirls the amber liquid around in a clean whisky bottle. Mark whistles at his creation, impressed, before holding it up to you and shaking it tauntingly. It smells slightly floral, the sharp flavors of absinthe and cognac making your nose scrunch.

“You’re just mad that your mixes don’t hit as hard as mine, baby.” With another swirl, he lifts the drink up to his mouth to taste. “And because you so nicely asked,” Mark smirks at you, “it’s Peychaud’s Bitters, cognac, syrup, and anise, and I give you my permission to borrow the recipe to impress your future uni friends. You’re welcome.” You shove Mark’s shoulder with your palm as he laughs at your baffled expression, body shaking with amusement while he sips away at his newest pride.

It’s only when Chaewon reaches over to steal the bottle away from him that your phone starts ringing, startling all three of you as the name of your older brother flashes across the screen. Mark looks at you inquisitively, but you just shrug in response and press the receive button.

“Tae?” you inquire, surprised at the sudden call. “Everything okay?”

He hums at the end of the line.

“More than okay. Guess whose plans just changed and is actually coming home today for break,” he reveals right away, and you know he’s smiling by the way his tone of voice is lilted in true Taeyong fashion.

“No fucking way,” you breathe out, eyes widening. Taeyong’s back? “Today, right now? For the entire summer? You’re actually lying- wait wait I’m coming home right now. Wait. Wait for me.”

“‘Wait wait wait,’ I’m not going anywhere sis,” he grins as he mocks you, noises of shuffling sounding out over your phone speaker. “Mom’s gonna pick me up from the airport in 30, I think. See you then?”

“Lee Taeyong! How could you not tell me,” you frown into the receiver, “I need at least three business days to prepare before seeing your face.”

“Oh, shut up would you. I have literal voicemail receipts of you crying about how much you miss me,” Taeyong retorts, topping your sarcasm.

You sigh, rubbing your temple when you realize that Taeyong’s never gonna let your sad-drunk voicemails go. “Fine, but you better spend every single day with me.”

Taeyong protests jokingly before giving in, promising you that he’ll make up for the time you’ve missed together. With a little, love you, and more of his usual unsolicited comments, the two of you say your quick goodbyes and you turn back to your waiting friends.

“Damn, Taeyong’s really back?” Mark looks at you in awe, his eyes shining with admiration. “He never stays for long, that’s crazy. You gotta let me come over at least once,” he pleads, hands grabbing yours. You know that your best friend looks up to your brother a ton, so you nod at him. “Sick, imma finally be able to talk music with him.”

“Wait, if Taeyong’s coming home for the entire summer,” Chaewon pauses, a knowing smile growing on her face as you groan, knowing exactly what she’s about to say next, “that means a certain Jeong Jaehyun will probably be following him back as well. And likely other kids in their year too from SNU… holy shit, the parties are gonna be literally insane this summer.” She throws her head back in elation as the realization strikes the three of you at once.

“You’re so right,” Mark covers his mouth to hide the smug grin taking over his face. He makes a heart with his hands as he observes you. “I can’t believe that I forgot Miss Y/N over here had the biggest crush on Jaehyun in high school.” You hit him on the chest in response as he absolutely loses it over your misfortune.

“Lovergirl,” he sing-songs, adding fuel to the fire while you shove your face into your palms. Your cheeks warm on their own when your mind flash-backs to your second year of high school, your insufferable crush on your brother’s best friend surfacing memories that you had buried after they both had graduated two years ago.

“I’m leaving,” you mumble into your hands, “all you two do is make me suffer.”

Chaewon grins at you before pulling your figure into a tight hug, tugging Mark in too by his shirt to join your little group.

“It’s out of love,” she giggles before kissing your cheek with an exaggerated muah. Turning slowly towards Mark, he lets out a, “nope nope nope,” before scrambling away from Chaewon’s outstretched arms.

Smiling at their antics, you collect your few belongings and tuck some new records under your arm before heading out of the shop. Saluting your friends goodbye and opening the front door, you cringe at the wave of heat that seeps into the cool space.

“Say hi to Taeyong for me, Y/N! We’ll lock up for today,” Chaewon calls out from behind the counter, sending you an air kiss when you step out into your town’s center square.

The streets buzz with life as you make the quick walk back to your house. With a brilliant sunset soaking the streets in tangerine tones and a line of quaint shops’ wind chimes fluttering beside you, you can’t bring yourself to care about the heat. The alleys you stroll down are comfy, lined with the latest pastel DeLoreans and colorful paper garlands tied along their telephone lines. It’s a complete memory lane, and your comfy suburb — filled with traditional gaewa roofs and terracotta neutrals, clay-red stained roads and gated hanoks — hold a familiarity that no other could replace. It’s the more cramped side of town, and you might envy Taeyong’s thrilling city life that you see through his social media, but nothing will ever beat home.

Your lace camisole sticks to your skin with fervor as you finally get to your own address, letting out a sigh of relief when cool shade encompasses you in the juniper-tinted light of the mudroom. Setting your brand-new records onto the kitchen floor, their faded titles peeking over thin paper sheaths, you make yourself comfortable on the floor as you hum to yourself. The house is quiet.

You put one of the new records into your player before your gaze drifts over to a stack of pictures on the tabletop, filtered evenly between stray letters and tacky postcards that your older brother has always had a knack for.

In addition to texting and calling home every month, Taeyong made it a habit a few years ago to send you the little magazine cut-outs and mini posters that he sees on his escapades, trinkets that remind him of you. Your little kitchen-counter-collection has thinned out in the past months as your brother got increasingly busier with school and his modeling jobs, barely coming home for a few days before rushing back for castings and elite functions. Nonetheless, a little orange package addressed to you would appear at your doorstep with each change of the seasons, tinged with your brother’s cologne and topped with his messy handwriting.

Just as you place the needle on a shiny black record with Missy Elliot’s face plastered across its front, you hear the front door creak open before noises of rolling luggage and playful shouting fill the house's interior.

“Mom, I’m not ten anymore,” you hear Taeyong whine in the higher-pitched voice he reserves solely for family, the telltale sign of his embarrassment, “I can carry my backpack myself. Promise.”

You can imagine the scene before you even see it: your brother looking away to the window as he tries to fight the smile creeping on his face, your mother on her tip-toes as she musses with her son’s hair even though he’s a head taller, and of course, your father leaning against the door with a content grin as his watches his wife’s face light up with happiness that the family is together again.

When you hear their footsteps near your seated figure on the kitchen floor, you feel your brother’s presence before you even see him.

Taeyong stops a few paces away from you, dropping his bag carelessly on the ground before standing with his arms outstretched and eyebrows raised. With his messy hair and airport clothes still hanging off his shoulders, your brother looks like a favorite uncle at holiday dinners when he hasn’t seen his favorite niece and nephew all year.

“Aren’t you gonna come say hi to your best friend before you abandon me for your vinyls again,” he teases before crossing the threshold in three steps and embracing you fully. “It’s been a while, hmm rockstar?”

You hum at the familiar term of endearment, sinking into his figure as your brother rocks you back and forth. You look up at him, his face looking more mature and sharp than when you saw him last.

“You gotta catch me up on that crazy life of yours, yeah? We have all summer.”

Nodding contently, you follow your brother and parents into the dining room for dinner before settling back into the feeling of having four people at home again. Just like the old days, before Taeyong left, where your worries were limited and you allowed yourself to be childish.

…

If anything makes you glad you’re alive, it’s being able to wake up at 2pm in the afternoon on a Thursday and feeling you just gained ten years. It’s truly a blessing, and if you were a bit more religious, you’d be thanking God right now for no school and black-out curtains.

Quickly getting ready, you give one last glance at yourself in the mirror before rushing downstairs to see if anyone’s home still. To your surprise, you catch Taeyong right as he’s opening the door to the basement.

“So she’s alive,” he calls out with an approving nod, surprised that you actually managed to wake up before the sun sets once again. You roll your eyes as you pull cereal in front of you on the kitchen table. The two of you are back to your old ways in a matter of hours, making fun of each other at every chance you get.

“It’s not my fault you don’t know how to enjoy life, Tae,” you shrug, grabbing leftovers from the fridge. He simply tsks at you before walking over to affectionately ruffle your hair, drawing a complaint from you about messing it up.

“Anyway, some of my old friends are coming over today to catch up. We’re probably gonna be downstairs for a while so just let them in the front when they come,” your brother relays, moving back towards the basement when you throw up an okay sign. He gives you a knowing look. “You’re always welcome to join, you know. They all love you.”

You crinkle your nose at the idea. Sure, you’re pretty familiar with most of Taeyong’s high school friends, but you really aren’t too keen on the idea of spending your afternoon with a bunch of older boys when you could be hanging out with Mark and Chaewon.

“I’m okay. You guys have fun, though.”

Resuming your attention on your food, you open the front door a couple times over the next hour for said boys. Their features chiseled, styles changed, and voices a bit deeper, they’re all caught by surprise when you open the door for them (Yuta’s inability to recognise you at all really takes the cake). You suppose that a lot can change in two years.

After the seventh ring of the doorbell, you sigh in exasperation before making your way to the front once again. You grumble under your breath before opening the door, the bitter expression wiping right off your face when you see the two figures in front of you.

“Johnny!”

“Y/N,” the familiar boy exclaims, his towering stature enveloping you in a warm hug before pulling back and examining your growth. “Look who’s all pretty and grown! You look so much like Taeyong now that it’s scary,” he beams at you while turning your face side to side with his hands, and you can’t help but return it. If anyone was as much of an older brother figure as your real one was, it would be Johnny.

“Hey,” a voice sounds out besides him after a few moments of Johnny’s compliments, startling you, and your eyes finally flick over to the subject of your teenage years’ daydreams. Your heart floods with a jittery feeling when he reaches out to give you a hug. “It’s nice to see you again, Y/N.”

Jeong Jaehyun hasn’t changed a bit since you last saw him at your brother’s graduation.

His hair is a bit longer now, dark brown curls shimmering gold in the sunlight and his ears now adorned with more silver studs and rings. But the sun-kissed freckles dusting his nose, the deep-set dimples, the starry eyes — they’re exactly the same as you remember.

He’s still breathtaking.

Johnny bursts your little moment as he grabs your arm to lead you back into your house, pulling both you and Jaehyun along with him to the basement entrance.

Even though you’re painfully aware of your fingers nervously playing with the bracelets on your wrist, it’s true that these boys practically watched you grow up. Even when you look at a certain brown-eyed boy, your whole world feels like it's stopping. Even when your stupid childhood crush on your brother’s best friend was supposed to be gone by now. You know them, and they know you.

After Johnny and Jaehyun disappear down the stairs with a small goodbye and the invitation to join them once again, you head back up to your own room, collapsing onto your bed and staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars plastered across your ceiling.

You remember your brother and Jaehyun setting them up for you many years ago, their young figures using your bed as leverage to stick them on when you were still too short to reach. You had handed each star carefully to the boys, making sure the adhesive side was up before telling them where to place each one. They waited patiently for you to give them every star until the whole box was empty, the three of you high fiving before you had thanked them enthusiastically. Taeyong had simply pinched your cheek and said, “anything for my baby sister,” before pulling Jaehyun away to play another video game in the living room.

Taeyong was a kind older brother, never complaining when your mother told him to bring you with him and his friends on their little adventures. Occasionally he found you annoying, but his friends never minded your presence, so he couldn’t find a reason to either. You were integrated into their daily outings, the boys taking turns talking and playing games with you as the days progressed.

You think your liking to Jaehyun started then: when your young mind easily confused admiration with puppy love. Your brother’s friends were the nicest boys you had met, certainly nicer than the boys in your class at school. Jaehyun specifically always made sure you were comfortable, making silly faces at you when your eyes met across the room and remembering to bring you snacks from across the street when he got some for his best friend. He was perfect in your eyes.

When you started hanging out more with your own friends as you got older, things never really changed regarding your feelings for the boy. Your secret crush was still as prominent as ever, eyes following his mess of hair whenever he passed you in the hallway at school; it didn’t help that his name was passed around no matter what year you were. Jaehyun this and Jaehyun that, you were definitely not the only girl whose heartbeat stopped whenever he looked their way. He was polite, confident, and undeniably charming, your school’s beloved basketball team captain and a favorite of teachers: the kind of boy everyone wanted to be out of envy, but couldn’t. He was truly untouchable. Your classmates would stare at you in awe when he waved at you through the classroom entrance, telling you how lucky you were that your brother and his group were so cool and how you had guys like Jaehyun over all the time.

But it wasn’t like it was any different at home, where he would smile at you just the same as you worked on your homework in the kitchen before retreating back into the basement with Taeyong.

Even though fifteen year-old you thought your feelings were pretty damn strong at that time, the age gap felt a bit too gaping where kids two years older felt worlds away. By seventeen, they were already off driving and taking weekend trips, your brother’s license making leeway for nights when he and his friends wouldn’t return until sunrise. It felt a little bit like you had been left behind, and yeah, it sucked, but you decided right then and there that you could have fun without them. Taeyong’s friends weren’t necessarily yours in the first place, and you came to the realization that it might have been strange for you to be so close with them at an older age anyway.

If you were sad about not seeing Jaehyun in particular too much anymore, you tried not to show it. Your best friends — Mark and Chaewon — had always known, teasing you relentlessly when the older boy was around, but the idea of him was only a lingering thought at the back of your mind when he graduated. Your ears still perked up hearing his name in passing, but you had your own problems to consume your thoughts and started getting into a new genre of trouble with your friends; the idea of Jaehyun was supposed to be dead and buried six feet under.

So then why was he plaguing your mind like this after years of successfully not thinking about him?

You groan and throw an arm over your face.

Shit.

…

“My little film-maker,” a voice pops up from above you, the grinning face of your brother accompanying it as he surprises you into oblivion. You make a face up at him and offer a reluctant little wave before returning back to your camcorder, zooming in on Chaewon beside you.

You’re on the asphalt outside your house again. The air’s cooler today, a gray sheet of clouds blocking any of the sun’s rays from reaching your golden trio. With your head on Mark’s legs, he strums his guitar gently as Chaewon hums along to the familiar tunes. Her hands are busy on their own, one arm out while her other uses markers to draw a garden into her skin with washed-out blues and oranges.

You turn the camera around to point at Taeyong, the said boy poking his tongue out before plopping down beside Mark.

“I feel like I always find you guys on the ground,” he mutters, observing the way Mark strums his instrument with care and experience. Your friend looks a little intimidated with the proximity of Taeyong leaning towards him, but he plays on nevertheless.

You shrug. “It’s more comfortable.”

“And we’re a little closer to Hell down here,” Chaewon adds on with a grin, pausing from her flesh-art to look up at Taeyong. “We’ll all be heading there soon anyway.”

“Smart girl,” he laughs out, throwing his head back to stare into the sky. He stays there for a good moment before jumping back up onto his feet and twirling a shiny set of car keys around his fingers. “Anyway, I’m afraid I’ll have to steal Y/N for a bit,” your brother fakes a trail of tears down his cheek with his fist. “Don’t miss her too much.”

“Never,” Mark smirks at you, reaching out to pat your arm affectionately when you let out an offended, Oscar worthy sob at his words.

“Don’t have more fun with him than you do with us, babe,” she calls out as Taeyong drags you off. You salute her back before she turns back to her painting.

Stumbling behind your brother to catch up with his long strides, your eyebrows raise when you catch sight of his infamous red Cadillac parked down the winding road. You grip on tighter to your camcorder before jogging up to the passenger side, ready to swing your legs over the side of the convertible.

“Not so fast,” Taeyong calls out, amused, as he strolls up casually to the driver's side. “We’re picking up some of the guys and Johnny already called shotgun yesterday. Take it up with him, rockstar.”

You splutter indignantly before crossing to the backseat with a huff, sinking into the car’s tan, leather seats and crossing your arms. “Not fair, Tae,” you complain at him before he starts the engine, starting off in the direction of an area you’ve never been before. “Where are we even going?”

He doesn’t answer.

Soon enough, three more bodies crowd into your brother’s car after dropping by Jungwoo’s condo, the boy squishing into the back with you as Jaehyun of all people slides into the seat on the other side of you. They offer smiles and quick greetings to you before the car takes off once again.

His proximity hits you far harder than Jungwoo’s, and you know exactly why. You keep your head tilted away from him as you try to focus on Johnny in the front seat, who’s passionately retelling an encounter he had at the supermarket this morning. It’s incredibly hard when Jaehyun moves and his thigh touches yours, fifteen year-old you coming back to life within you and screaming all sorts of insane things at your brain. You can physically feel his warmth radiating off his skin.

“—so we both reach out at the same time, and luckily, I snatch the crate right before her hands do. But,” Johnny pauses to look through the rearview mirror for dramatic effect, his shades glinting as the Cadillac speeds through dusty roads. “You won’t believe who those hands belonged to.”

He stills with the skill of an A-list actor, reaching up to pluck the sunnies off his face and stare right into Jaehyun’s eyes through the silver glass.

“Lim Saemi.”

Everybody has a different reaction to the name-drop, with Jungwoo and Taeyong’s gasp and your muffled noise ringing out as your eyes widen in the slightest. You try to glance at Jaehyun subtly, and his face doesn’t flicker a bit from its usual stoic expression, but you can feel him tense up next to you before relaxing a few seconds later. He appears seemingly unphased, and if you had not been watching carefully from out of the corner of your eye you would have fallen for it.

You know better, though.

“Oh? Is she back home for the summer too?” Jaehyun throws out casually, tucking his chin in his hand as he looks out through the wind.

“Wait Jae… you didn’t know? I thought if anyone would know first, it would be you,” Jungwoo leans back, surprised at this new development. “Even I knew, and everyone knows I don’t catch onto shit.”

“It’s whatever,” Jaehyun mumbles, deflecting the weird looks he receives. He ends the conversation with two words, and the car falls into silence with the only noises being those from tires against gravel. You glance at him before staring straight forward through the dash.

You know Lim Saemi.

Who doesn’t, in all honesty. Saemi is Saemi, and you’d be the weird one if you hadn’t heard her name at least once throughout your school years. She was like straight out of a Dior catalog. With as much impact as your older brother and his posse had left, she was everything all the girls in your year wanted to be: too pretty to be unnecessarily shallow, too smart to use her looks irrationally.

You remember Lim Saemi.

She’s two years older, like Taeyong and Jaehyun and Johnny. She was the girl who was occasionally over at your house during parties when your brother would force you upstairs, her bleached hair and delicate features drawing in everyone immediately. You remember watching from the top of the stairwell as her figure still captured attention in the darkness of winter’s pitch black nights. From your outside point of view, it was like she was the center of a spindling web that stretched throughout the bottom floor of your house; people just couldn’t help but be lured to her.

You wanted to be Lim Saemi.

Just for one day. You needed to know what it felt like to be the center of a certain boy’s affections, even though she attracted every other person’s along the way as well. She was a different type of suburban it-girl, one that everyone was sure would get snatched up into the celebrity world sooner or later with the way she carried herself.

You knew that Jaehyun and Saemi had always been “just friends” — or at least that was what they told everyone — but you could tell he had liked her throughout their high school years. How could you not, especially when you looked at him the same way he looked at her. Back then, it was more curiosity about their complicated relationship than hate fueled jealousy for you. You still couldn’t help but imagine him treating you with the affection he did with her; even as a teenager, you understood why. And ironically, as you sit in the backseat of your brother’s car with the very boy right beside you, the bubbling feeling of envy is uncomfortable in your gut.

Shaking your head out of your retrospective thoughts, you look around in confusion when the convertible starts to slow on a thinning road, towering evergreens blocking the sky from view.

Leading the car through another winding path, it emerges on the other side within acres of grassy fields and wildflower paths that circles a grandiose, central estate home. Marble blocks stretch across its stone ledges like ivy — an intimidating facade if you’ve ever seen one. Taeyong looks at you through the rearview mirror. His eyes crease in pride when he sees the wonder in yours, enraptured by the sight before you.

“Remember when Johnny said that he’d always wanted to go to a local car show?” your brother starts, grinning at his friend beside him. “Well, yours truly saw an ad at the record shop yesterday for one just outside of town. Someone compliment me, I feel like I just made all of our afternoons a thousand times better.”

“This is actually insane, Yong,” Jungwoo breathes out, eyes widening at the unfamiliar setting.

Retro cars of all brands and models are parked across an acre, their shiny coats glinting in the sun as masses of people linger near and talk amongst themselves. The white pillars of whoever’s home is hosting the car show serves as a gathering place for lovers to mingle, precariously held champagne flutes an ironic contrast to the grit and dirt of the event itself.

Johnny lets out a low whistle before resting his weight on the center console and lowering his sunglasses, observing the scene.

“This is exactly my type of place. Old, rich people and hot girls.”

“Oh my god, Johnny,” you laugh out, not at all surprised that those words came from his mouth.

You tear your gaze away from the outside view to look at Jaehyun after hearing his embarrassed groan at Johnny’s words. To your surprise, he’s already looking at you. With his piercing gaze on your face, you look away, flustered, playing it off with a small cough.

Taeyong parks his timeless Cadillac besides others of the same nature before leaving to roam around with Johnny and Jungwoo, buzzing with excitement. It’s no surprise that they make their way over to the group of girls huddled around a vintage truck model first, their giggles ringing out across the field as they throw sly glances to the boys headed their way. You catch sight of your brother leaning towards one in particular before deciding you’ve seen enough and turning to explore by yourself.

Thrilled to be left to your own devices, you follow your own little path off to the side towards a pastel-colored Corvette that had caught your eye earlier. Circling it for a few minutes and capturing it slowly through the lens of your camcorder, you smile happily to yourself while replaying the footage in the shade of a lonely willow tree. The cool breeze brings tangs of clementines and vanilla — from where, you don’t know — as well as the unmistakable scent of petrol and cigarettes as it picks up pieces of your hair before rustling the leaves of the willow.

“Can I see?” a familiar voice startles you. You look up to see Jaehyun’s lean figure making his way over to your crouched one, gesturing to your open camera with his head tilted. “If you’re comfortable, of course,” he adds, the corners of his lips quirking up. Mouth agape slightly for a few seconds, you shake yourself out of your momentary funk and nod, thrilled at his interest.

“The colors show up really well with this lighting, especially ‘cuz I just changed my saturation settings,” you mumble, stopping yourself when you realize he probably doesn’t care that much. Tucking your knees to your chest, you wait nervously as you hand the device to him.

You think your heartbeat just about stops when he replies with a “that’s so cool” under his breath.

Jaehyun holds the camera carefully to his chest before sitting down beside you, leaning against the tree trunk before flipping through your gallery. He takes his time watching every little video clip and picture, giving you a little noise of approval every few clicks.

You’re caught off guard when he sighs and puts the camcorder back in your lap, turning to you with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen grace his features.

“Y/N, you seriously might be better at this shit than the literal mixed media majors at my uni,” he deadpans. Taken aback, you can’t stop the rosy warmth that creeps up your cheeks. “I’m being so for real right now. Don’t ever stop.”

You pause.

“Do you know how reassuring that is to hear, especially from you?” you say with sincerity, holding eye contact with him.

“Hmm? Really, me?”

“Yeah. It feels like I’m doing something right, like I’m not wasting my time on a fruitless hobby.” Confessing one of your biggest fears to someone who’s familiar to you but not, close to you but not — now that’s probably one of the craziest things you’ve done this week, and you do a whole lot of crazy things in a week.

Jaehyun’s expression changes with your words. He doesn’t reply for a while, just seeming to take in the world around him with only his eyes. Looking from the drooping branches of the willow to its dirt-ingrained roots, his face is cast downwards with a faint, melancholic smile.

Now the mood is ruined, you think to yourself, bitter. Why do I always do this?

Before you can change the subject and move on from your awkward burt-out, he clears his throat.

“You know, I admire you a lot Y/N. You and Taeyong,” he starts, the slim chain around his neck glittering in the afternoon sun when he turns back to you. “Both of you have always been unafraid to pursue the arts, even though I know how your strict parents are about future careers and all that. I wish I had the courage to just… do what I like instead of being a pushover with my dad. Maybe I would be doing music with your brother instead of barely living day by day in pre-med.”

His usual confident eyes are tinged with regret and a little vulnerability as he ruffles his hair in the wind. You tilt your head at him, trying to come up with comforting words when you aren’t so sure if you’re qualified to give him advice in the first place.

“Well… I admire you a lot, Jaehyun. You’ve always been that one person who consistently looks like they have their life in check, someone who’s able to put their all in everything that they do. It’s really a quality to be proud of,” you say to him honestly. “I think you’ll do well wherever you end up. So don’t worry too much, okay?”

The boy stares at you like no one’s ever said that to him, and no one has; even if this might be a passing comment for you, it’s something that he feels relief to finally hear.

“Thanks.” He says it so quietly that you almost miss it, but you can hear the gratefulness in his voice nevertheless. You both look away for a few seconds when a brilliant yellow bird flutters past the two of you, settling on the ground in front to peck at a white speck in the soil. “Pretty,” he mumbles under his breath, blinking at the animal.

And with that, Jaehyun shakes his head a bit before resuming back to his relaxed demeanor. He lets out a breath of air and runs his tongue over his teeth.

“Sorry for getting so deep all of a sudden,” he apologies, sheepishly rubbing his neck as you let out a little laugh.

“No, it’s nice to hear that the Valentine Boy has troubles too,” you tease lightly, recalling the God-like aura he used to carry 24/7 when you were younger and the nick-name that followed him around as a result. Jaehyun visibly cringes at your words, no doubt getting high school flashbacks.

“Not that,” he replies, embarrassed. “Anyway, I feel like I haven’t gotten the chance yet to ask you how you’ve been these past few years.” You glance up at him in surprise. He sounds strangely sincere for someone you weren’t that close with out of your brother’s friends, and the confusion must show on your face because he finds it in himself to clarify. “Oh come on, Y/N. I feel like we’ve known each other since forever but I’ve missed a crucial part of your growing up. You’re like a whole different person now.”

“I’d hope so,” you lament, fiddling with your camcorder. “I’ve gone through too much shit to be the same as sixteen-year old me.” Jaehyun laughs out loud at your answer, knowing exactly how you feel as someone who was once a fresh, high school graduate.

“Yeah? Well it seems like just yesterday when you were complaining about being bored after school from not having enough homework—” he stumbles over his words when you push his body with a light shove, the boy barely able to get breaths in with how much he’s laughing at your past cluelessness of how hard high school would really be.

“None of you guys warned me about the horror of calculus, so that is not my fault Jaehyun,” you pout, shaking your head at him.

“So it’s my fault?” he smiles, questioning your statement.

“Yes.” A lie.

“And I’m the reason why you almost failed second semester math?”

“Yes.” Another lie. Wait. “What— how do you even know about that?” You demand, incredulous. Jaehyun just raises his eyebrows and hides his growing grin behind his hand. “Fucking Lee Taeyong.”

He looks overjoyed at your seething, playfully poking out his bottom lip in a mock-frown before getting up and dusting off his pants. Offering a hand to you, Jaehyun uses his strength to pull you to your feet; you’re hyper-aware of the warmth of his palm as your hands linger for a millisecond before he pulls away.

I’m so screwed, you think to yourself, blinking at the sky with fervor. Shaking your head, you tuck your hand to your side and try not to think of his skin on yours.

“They’re finally done flirting,” he notes with a hum, making an acute observation as you both spy the three other boys heading back to the car, their reluctant forms obvious when you see one girl hold up her hands in a ‘call me�� sign.

Smirking, you skip ahead of Jaehyun before turning back and waving your wallet at him.

“25000 won that we’ll see one of those girls walk out of Tae’s room tomorrow morning,” you chant as Jaehyun jogs to catch up with you. Chuckling, he pushes your wallet away.

“Nah, that man doesn’t give a fuck about the time of day. 25000 that she’s gonna be at your house in twenty,” he counters, snorting when you gag at the thought.

You can’t help but light up at his content face; this feels like this is the first time you’ve ever had a real, honest to goodness, conversation with him as a young adult.

And you’re in trouble, because you think you like it more than you should.

…

“I did it,” Chaewon confesses over the phone, the sound of a knife against a chopping board from her end revealing her current position.

“What,” you inquire, “you finally passed your license test?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Never.” You flash a wicked grin at the sheet music in your hands, shuffling through the never-ending leaflets.

When Taeyong had said he’d pay you to organize his papers, you clearly weren’t thinking straight enough to be saying yes to this hell. He’s been out for an hour already and not even a third of the pile is sorted through. You slump forward on the couch and shake out your tired hands, groaning when your knuckle hits the coffee table with a painful thump.

“For your information, I don’t need to drive. Hot girls take public transportation,” she retorts with a humph.

“Can’t argue with you there, passenger princess.”

“Oh please, I can literally feel the sarcasm dripping from your voice.”

You laugh, a “you know me, Chae” accompanying the sound ringing out through your empty house. Gathering Taeyong’s work into your arms and dumping the rest on the table, you slide onto the carpeted ground with a sigh. Your bones are overly sore from sitting for too long and the couches seams have made painful, little white imprints on your thighs. With a click of your tongue, you inwardly curse your brother for offering such good deals to a minimum wage paid, about-to-be uni kid, or else you wouldn't be spending a perfectly good Saturday afternoon on whatever this is.

“So,” you prompt, “what did you do this time.”

“Ha,” Chaewon starts.

“I’m scared.”

“Ran into Jaehyun today.”

“Aaand that’s my cue to hang up now,” you sing, slipping the phone between your shoulder and ear, the warm device tucked neatly in the crevice of your neck before you hear the sound of your doorbell ringing out.

“Wait—”

“Hold on for a sec, Chae. Someone’s at the door.”

You will yourself to get up from the carpet before making your way over to the front of the house, preparing yourself for a blast of hot summer air to hit you. The silver knob twists under your hand as you swing the door open slowly, expecting the mailman or a delivery on your front porch. Certainly not—

“—Hey.”

Your eyes flick up in surprise.

“Oh shit,” Chaewon whispers over the phone. “That’s not who I think it is, right?”

It’s been a week since you last saw Jaehyun face to face, and your conflicted inner thoughts have been battling in your conscience for the entirety of it. Well, this isn’t great.

“Hi Jaehyun,” you manage to sound out, mentally chastising yourself for sounding so nervous.

“And that’s my cue to hang up now,” the voice at the other end of your call snickers, the long beep of it ending blaring into your ear.

Your arm drops to your side, phone in hand, as you stare pointedly at Chaewon’s contact info lighting up the screen, her eyes mocking you through her profile picture. Jaehyun lifts an eyebrow as he looks between your phone and your face, seemingly questioning if you’re currently busy through his eyes alone.

“Umm…” your gaze flits around in flusteration, looking just about anywhere but him. “Taeyong’s not home right now, if that’s why you’re here.”

“Oh? Do you know when he’ll be back?” he asks, relaxed as he leans his body against the doorframe.

“He’s picking up stuff from Johnny’s across town, so like,” you glance up at the clock, “an hour? I could uh… call you when he gets back if you want.”

Jaehyun simply pokes his tongue into his cheek in contemplation before tucking his hands into his pockets.

“Nah, it’s okay. I’ll just stay.” With a small smile, he adds on, “if you're okay with that, of course.”

You peer past him to see his shiny black Mustang sitting in front of your house, before returning to your original position and shrugging at the foyer. Losing your shyness momentarily as you let out a puff of air, you follow Jaehyun in before deciding to answer.

“My company is a blessing in itself, isn’t it,” you think out loud, displaying a cheeky smile when Jaehyun turns around to playfully scoff at you.

“Now that’s a sure thing, Y/N.”

The boy seats himself on one of the kitchen barstools and places his chin in his hand, leaning over the counter to stare at you as you busy yourself with the fridge.

In all honesty, you weren’t prepared to see him again. He’s already been occupying your mind a little too much for your liking during this past week, the idea of his return to your life teetering you on the edge of insanity. You didn’t know high school crushes hit that hard two years later, and it certainly doesn’t help that his golden skin and constellation of tawny freckles have made an almost daily appearance in the Lee household — just like the old times.

“I think we still have that special glass-bottled lemonade from the farmer’s market last weekend, unless,” you pause, sifting through the multitude of items in the ice box. “Yup. Nevermind. Taeyong finished all of them.”

Jaehyun snorts, already familiar with his best friend’s midnight tendencies of clearing out the fridge whenever, wherever.

“We also have water? And um… milk. And Vodka.”

“This sounds like Yuta’s fridge, and that thought alone is like, genuinely terrifying,” Jaehyun observes from behind you. You shake your head, recalling the first time you saw the said boy’s freezer stash of condiments and liquor at a house party a few years ago. Only condiments and liquor.

“Oh! And cold noodles,” you hold up the container with a little shake. “I remember you liking my mom’s version of them,” you mumble quietly, willing yourself to turn around when the cold air from the fridge starts to sting your eyes.

Jaehyun observes you curiously, a question at the tip of his tongue. You remember?

He stops himself from blurting it out when you seat yourself across from him and push the container towards his direction.

“You practically live here anyway. Help yourself,” you say a bit louder, embarrassed about the fact that you remember such a miniscule detail about him.

You squint at the countertop — which you honestly wish would swallow you whole — as Jaehyun moves around you to pour himself a glass of water. His muscles strain against his loose t-shirt as he moves around your kitchen with familiarity, and you turn away with wide eyes when you realize you’ve spaced out while staring at his back.

It’s a situation that younger you would have never imagined; you had simply never been left in a room with him alone. Your brother and his other friends were always there, a subtle reminder of the distance between you two and the fact that he was probably still worlds away.

But you’re an adult now, and it’d be a lie if you said that you don’t want Jaehyun to notice you in that way.

Feelings are too complicated to think about sober. You grimace to yourself, pressing two fingers against your temple as you lean your cheek against the cool, hard marble of the countertop.

“Y/N?” you lift your head up at your name, flinching back in surprise when Jaehyun’s face appears at the edge of your vision, his figure buzzing with excitement as he gapes at you. “This is yours, right?”

Your eyes drift to the black canisters in his palm. My film.

“Oh yeah— wait. I forgot to develop those ones,” you make your way over and take the undeveloped film rolls into your hands, the boy observing you with wide eyes.

“That’s sick. Do you develop them yourself?”

“Hm? Nah, I bring them to the camera store downtown. Left them in the fridge to preserve for a while so they should be good to go now.”

It’s only when you look up from the canisters that you spy his expression, the pure giddiness painted on his features catching you off guard. Jaehyun’s body language tells you that he is unnervingly thrilled about his new discovery.

“You were never into this kind of stuff when Taeyong and I were still here in high school,” he brings up slowly, letting the words sit on his tongue before following you when you head towards the stairs. “If I had known…” he trails off, pursing his lips to the side so that his notorious dimples show.

You peer at him over your nose bridge curiously. If he had known, he would've what?

Jaehyun pokes his tongue into his cheek and furrows his brows, thinking about the times when he was over at your house after school and you would be nowhere to be seen. Is the dark room where you were, or were you out taking pictures at the rink and shooting short films with your friends? Maybe at the park with your old camcorder and skateboard? The fact that he never knew about so many of your hobbies is almost troubling considering how long he’s known you, and it makes him shift in place. He supposes he never really took the time to know his best friend’s little sister, but looking at you as you stare back, you’re so much more than that.

Had you always shared so much in common?

“Well, imma go upstairs and watch a movie,” you resume your climb before pointing upward. “You can come up until Tae comes home, if you want?”

The boy glances at the door momentarily, contemplating how Taeyong would react if he found him in his sister’s room. Would he kill me? Maybe.

He shrugs. Fuck it, I could totally beat him in a fight, Jaehyun reasons, smiling to himself. He doesn’t know how he reached that conclusion, but he thinks he’s joking. Mostly.

“The real question is, what’re we watching? If it’s some romcom shit I’m leaving,” Jaehyun raises a challenging brow with his smirk as he follows you nonetheless, hand following yours dangerously close on the wooden handrail.

“Not my problem you’ve got no taste.”

“Oh please,” he rolls his eyes, pushing his body into view as you push open your bedroom door, “I might actually die if I see DiCaprio’s face one more time, and you can’t tell me it’s not you that has all of his movies in the living room cabinet, ‘cause they’re definitely not your brother’s.”

“That seems a bit of a personal issue between you and him, Jaehyun,” you let out a laugh with your words. Turning around to flick on the light switch, you’re met with his face closer than it was before. “What.”

“What?” he repeats, almost mockingly. “Oh, sweetheart. You think this face isn’t DiCaprio level?”

Your face heats up without your consent, flustered at the sudden proximity and the fact that you most definitely think Jaehyun’s better than all of your favorite actors combined. You would never admit that to him for the life of you, though.

You swallow before pushing him lightly, making your way into the center of your bedroom.

“Admit it,” he sings, not giving up as he relentlessly parks himself in front of you with his legs set further apart so that he can look at you at eye level. “I bet even Ji Chang-wook’s got nothing on me.”

“Woah woah woah,” you gasp in offense, throwing a hand up to your chest. “Now that’s crossing the line, buddy. Ji Chang-wook’s got something on everybody.”

“I bet,” Jaehyun drawls out sarcastically, eyes flipping to the ceiling ludicrously slow. He seems to glitch for a few seconds, mouth open but no words coming out. “Especially with the way his face is plastered… on… your ceiling? You fall asleep to that?”

Your eyes widen when you have the sudden realization that Jeong Jaehyun is in your room, in your personal space, looking at your things. And that most certainly includes the poster of Ji Chang-wook next to the plastic stars above your bed, glassy, plastic-y eyes staring down at your ruffley bed sheets and everything. In your defense, it was the result of a lost dare — but he doesn’t know that. Wow, you think to yourself, regretting all of your life decisions, I’m just so good at first impressions.

“Yes,” you give up somewhat dejectedly, offering him a (hopefully) confident smile before pulling a projector from under your bed and setting it up on your bedside table.

Jaehyun just shrugs and seats himself on your bed, muttering a little “cute” that you miss before observing as you give the machine a few good slaps so it’ll turn on. Settling against the wall, he lets his eyes flutter over your decor and multitude of things plastered across every inch of your space. If anything, the way your room’s changed since the last time he was in it gives him an outlook into your life that he wouldn't have known otherwise.

From the blockbuster movie ads on your door to the unfiltered sunlight reflecting off your mirror, the shoelaces tied around your closet door to the origami threaded around your ceiling fan, he feels like he’s falling. Maybe, just maybe, he even finds a bit of himself in the painted shoe boxes shoved under your desk and your circular record shelf. Even the stars he and Taeyong stuck on years ago are still there too. He recognizes bits and pieces here and there, but thrown together in one place, a cohesive picture forms in front of him. It’s suffocating — in a good way — as if he’s been thrown into the unknown and is hit with a new side of you at full force; everything, everywhere, all at once.

“Ha!” you exclaim, holding out a fist for Jaehyun to bump when your projector flickers on. With a bright grin, you flop onto the bed beside him and wait for the whirring of the projector to start with a hollow click.

The beginning few seconds of the film you’ve chosen roll onto your makeshift movie screen, a white sheet hanging by its threads from your vanity, as the bright images light up your figures with a burning white.

Jaehyun figures out what you’ve done just as a familiar face blurs into view, the moving calligraphy of The Great Gatsby scrawled across your bedroom wall while you poke out your tongue at him, high off of the mere fact that you’ve gotten your way. You hear him let out a defeated sigh from beside you, his knee hitting yours as he settles into your comforter nevertheless.

“Sharp as hell, aren’t you. I should’ve known DiCaprio would show up in my sight sooner or later.”

…

Summer tastes like melted sugar crystals in cherry garcia — or rather, summer tastes like Mark Lee’s Strawberry-Rouge Extravaganza, the latest, state-of-the-art item on his Record Shop menu. When you ask why the random French is thrown in there, he defends himself adamantly, claiming that his three years of secondary French language classes have practically made him a local.

“It’s like a metaphor for saying, ‘I love you,’” Mark claims with sass, even though you don’t make the connection (“That’s not what a metaphor is…?” you mumble quizzically under your breath). He ignores the weird look you throw at him and goes back to his mixing on the counter of the cashier station. “And it feels like a warm hug, because what better to express that than sparkly, drunk goodness.”

“Wow,” Chaewon deadpans, not even looking up from her nails that she’s painting right next to him. The mix of nail polish and liquor makes you scrunch your nose as you organize the main display, a rotating shelf that headlines Blondie. “You should be a poet. You have such a way with words.”

“I don’t need your negativity in my life, girly.” You almost choke on air when you hear a sharp snap of Chae’s gum in retaliation, her icy glare making Mark wilt under her gaze.

Their intense, non-verbal argument is saved by the dinging of a customer opening the door to the shop. You whip around to greet them only for your words to die right in your throat. Two silhouettes step in, their tall stature and familiar features blocking the sun from shining through the entranceway.

“…Jaehyun, Jungwoo! How are you guys?” Mark offers when he sees you fall silent.

The two greet happily right back, sliding past you to pat him on the back and exchange handshakes. Jaehyun lingers by your side for a little, holding his fist out for you to tap like you did just the other day in your room.

“We knew we’d find you guys in here,” Jungwoo laments, looking around the shelves before his eyes land on Mark’s… setup. You have to admit, this one looks a bit more pleasant than his past drink recipes, and you can tell that Jungwoo agrees wholeheartedly. His hand lingers on a bottle of sparkling vanilla wine as Mark slices red fruit ardently with a plastic, cafeteria knife. A paper cup holds the rest of his special ingredients: rock candy on wooden sticks, shattered candy hearts, and star-shaped ice cubes. You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that it looked delicious, like something you would order at a beach-side bar.

Jungwoo seems to find the situation amusing, a trio of barely-adults passing slow, withering days in their own little makeshift paradise. Leaning against the countertop like he’s on the cover of Parisian Vogue, he nicks his baseball cap up a bit higher to look into the three of yours’ eyes better.

“Johnny’s throwing a party.”

That’s all anyone needs to say before Chaewon’s attention is snagged, her eyes gaining an undeniable gleam.

“We’re going,” she speaks for everyone in the room, especially looking you square in the eyes as if saying, you’re not escaping this time, young lady.

“Mhm,” Jaehyun confirms, a hand rubbing at his pulse as he swings an arm over Jungwoo’s shoulders. “A fancy mixer, kinda, the day after tomorrow. We’ll have all the booze, so the only thing you need to bring is yourself.”

“And,” the latter chimes in, “it’s at Johnny’s countryside estate, so y’all can do whatever illegal shit you kids get yourself into without worrying about anything.”

Chaewon lets out a small scoff at his words, mumbling a “we still do here it anyway” under her breath and throwing a knowing look at the alcohol in front of Mark that’s very blatantly in every passerby’s sight.

As Jungwoo relays more information about the plans to them at the front of the shop, Jaehyun turns to follow your path as you diligently place records back in their places in the depths of the store.

“Do you wear silver or gold?”

You jump at his appearance out of nowhere, glancing at him with a certain hesitation at his question. Your confusion as to how this topic appeared so suddenly is painted blatantly across your face as you close the last turntable with a click.

“Why?” You pause. “But both. Depends on my mood.”

“Because this is yours now.”

He reaches into his jeans’ front pocket, pulling out something in his fist before reaching for your hand and dropping a small, plastic ring in the middle of it.

It’s neon orange and ugly as hell, like something you would find stuck to gum on the underbelly of a school desk. But hey, who are you to complain when Jaehyun looks so pleased at himself as he looks between your face and the ring, trying to gauge your reaction to his surprise gift. And, you’re definitely not complaining when it’s a gift from Jaehyun himself.

“Thank you…? Also,” you squint, picking up the ring to slide onto your pointer finger, “this isn’t silver or gold.” He shrugs half heartedly.

“Sucks to suck.”

You kick the tip of his Converse as he laughs with his whole body, the boy’s deep voice filling the small space.

“It’s from the coin toy machine outside,” he explains. With a broad grin, he pulls his other hand from out of his pocket and waves it in your face. The whole rainbow has found its home on his fingers, all silly swirls and squiggles of nylon with glued on googly-eyes half falling off.

It’s the pure childish elation you share which makes you unknowingly sink deeper and deeper into the ocean that is Jeong Jaehyun, and you would have felt the metaphorical gasps of air your lungs so desperately need if not for the momentary distractions he provides.

You suppose all of this is your own doing anyway.

…

It feels as though Autumn has made a reverse pit-stop in the middle of summer.

If not obvious by the way the seasonal trees are drooping with a sudden dewy chill, it’s the sudden absence of people in general that serves as a telltale sign. There’s almost no cars on the road, fewer students out and about, and less frequent public transportation.

The last one in particular really speaks to Jaehyun.

Scrunching his nose at the crisp air, he exits the hole-in-the-wall café he usually frequents when he’s bored, the biting coldness of a mid-August day unfamiliar to him. The boy spent almost the entire day inside; switching between staring at the weather app on his computer and deleting emails from his overflowing inbox for two hours wasn’t the way he thought he’d spend the afternoon, but alas, waiting that long at the crumbling bus stop wasn’t ideal either. He much prefers being warm, caffeinated, and pretending to read a scientific journal than freezing his ass off on a metal bench.

Anyone would think the same, Jaehyun shrugs to himself… at least until he starts nearing said bench.

Jaehyun stops mid-step when he spots something strange, side-eyeing the undeniably familiar blob crouching at the bus stop approaching on the right.

Why? Well, it's swathed in an oversized hoodie, has a keychain-ful backpack hanging low on its shoulders, and is suspiciously Y/N-shaped.

And if that doesn’t tell him anything, well, the way your eyes go comically wide when you turn to the right and coincidentally meet gazes with Jeong Jaehyun of all people definitely does. It’s the way he’s standing there like a runway model with his hood over his head, dimples on full show as he raises his eyebrows at you and his expensive-looking leather bag hanging off of one shoulder that almost causes you to fall over. Luckily, you pull yourself together before something embarrassing happens, like losing your balance and crashing into the road (not that it’s happened before, of course…). You’re well aware that you tend to get distracted easily, and you’re definitely in trouble because that man is one hell of a distraction.

Getting up quickly and dusting the invisible dust off your legs, you offer him an embarrassed wave as he approaches you.

“How long have you been sitting there? It’s fucking cold outside,” Jaehyun calls out, concerned, glancing down at your skirt and the way you hide your hands in your hoodie sleeves. Sidling up next to you, he bounces on the balls of his feet a little before stuffing his own hands in his pockets.

“It’s okay,” you smile down at the way your shoes match next to his on the sidewalk, “I’m used to the bipolar weather. Plus, it’s not that cold when you’ve got these!” Tucking your lip between your teeth, you rustle around in your sweater-paws before popping out your hands proudly in front of you. Nestled in your palms are old hand warmers, their heat fading but worth their purpose nonetheless.

“Only you would have hand warmers in stock during the middle of summer, Y/N,” he shakes his head in disbelief, but the smile threatening to take over his face makes his eyes crinkle up in amusement.

“Mhm,” you say, distracted as you see the bus pull up to the sidewalk from down the road, “I’ve got a whole box in my backpack. Who knows, maybe an ice storm will hit one day and I’ll be the only one with hands while everyone else’s freeze off.”

He pauses in place, speechless at your comment. You simply shrug at him, as if saying that’s the way life goes, before nodding to the bus driver and climbing up the vehicle’s steps. “Don’t worry, I’d share mine with you.”

Jaehyun lets out a breath in disbelief.

Your attitude is truly refreshing, and he can’t even begin to describe what a breath of clean air it is to talk to you everyday; he’s used to girls coming up to him with hidden intent, their eyes tinged with lust as they disguise their interest with false pretenses and flowery words. Flattery is what it began with, but after years of receiving nothing from their end while he found himself aimlessly hoping for someone genuine and it was disappointing that he couldn’t find even one. He’d wish they would just treat him normally and act like themselves, a person not afraid to be genuine with him and let their inner child show.

It’s as he observes the way you hum as you climb up and give a playful salute to the driver that he realizes you’re the perfect balance of both, the maturity in you shining admirably at the times when it is needed while never acting like something you’re not.

Jaehyun blinks at your figure before tugging on your arm to move around you, swiping his bus pass twice before you can even register what’s happened. He lets a smug grin take over his face before pulling you to the back of the bus and plopping down beside you.

“Thank you for paying for me,” you tilt your head at him, tucking your card back into your pocket. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to, though.”

You give him a grateful smile before remembering something that you had meant to show him, pulling out the walkman you found in your grandmother’s cellar yesterday from your backpack, a dusty old thing that still works perfectly fine. Looping its built-in headphones around your neck, you tilt the player towards him before offering him the small device. Turning it around in his hands, he gapes in undeniable awe as he taps the plastic cover with intrigue.

You knew he’d like it.

“I haven’t seen one of these in so long. Whose grave did you raid to get this, the hell?”

“Found it yesterday in my grandparent's cellar, and before Taeyong got his hands on it. I thought that you’d find it interesting so I was planning on showing you later this week, but hey, look who I happened to run into today.”

He simply shakes his head before bringing the machine up to his eyes and popping open its cover, a finger coming up to trace the dust out of the inside of it.

“Do you have a cassette to put in it or…?” he begins, looking up at you. You shake your head. “We can go to the vintage shop downtown later to get you some, if you want.”

“Really? You’ll go with me?”

“Yeah, Y/N. You’ve always got the coolest things to play around with, and we can go shove this in Yong’s face too. He’s gonna be so jealous.”

“You just wanna annoy my brother,” you snort, nudging his arm.

“You’ve got me there.” He holds up his hands in mock surrender before poking his tongue inside his cheek, eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Or… I could make you a personalized mixtape?” Your jaw drops comically, no words coming out of your mouth as you just stare at him.

“Are you being serious right now?”

“So, so serious.”

“If you did, I would actually lose my mind,” you finally close your mouth in amazement. “You’d probably be my favorite person ever.”

“Well, then that would be well worth it. I’ll work on it when I’m back in the studio at uni,” Jaehyun smiles genuinely, handing you your walkman back before swinging his leather bag back onto his shoulder as the bus pulls to a halt. With a parting pat on your shoulder, he mouths a goodbye before descending the aisle.

“This is my stop. See you at the party, Y/N.”

…

When you had received the call on a quiet Saturday afternoon from Mark that he and Chaewon would be leaving earlier to help set up for Johnny’s weekend party — the one that Jungwoo and Jaehyun had only told you about just a few days prior — the possibility of not having a ride to bring you hadn’t even struck yet. You were too busy thanking your friends that they had granted you two more hours for an afternoon nap, and an extra 60 minutes to get ready; a truly ideal day in your opinion.

It’s only when you’ve given yourself a final look in the mirror, admiring the new dress that you’ve donned at the last minute, do you hear the undeniable honk of a car outside. Brushing aside the curtains and trying to get your eyes to focus in the dark, you make a noise of panic when you spy Jaehyun’s car outside your house.

What’s he doing here?

You'd spent far more time with Jaehyun in the past few days than you have in your entire lifetime, running small errands with him when Taeyong's not there and browsing through retro stores in nearby towns for old cassettes. With every hour more spent together, it felt like you were getting closer to knowing his feelings, and that in itself excited you to no end. He'd end every drive together with a knowing look and some sort of physical touch, and each goodbye left you in anticipation for the next time you'd see him.

Sprinting down the stairs and grabbing your shoes as fast as you can, you rush out into the street where the Mustang’s tinted windows prevent any passerby from making out any faces from the outside.

As you approach the driver’s side, the window rolls down to reveal the owner of the car.

“Hey,” Jaehyun grins at you, his pupils dilated and the faint smell of smoke lingering on his breath.

It feels like forever since you’ve seen him, even if it’s only been a few hours since you last saw each other. You can feel your head fog up when you fully take in his appearance; with his hair slicked back and his button-up undone to reveal sharp collarbones and a dangling, silver cross, he looks godly as the moonlight basks him in a paper-white glow.

“Chaewon and Mark had to stay later to help set up more and Taeyong’s been pregaming since six, so he sent me to pick you up. You can get in the back.”

You hum in understanding before climbing into the backseat, tucking your hands under your thighs before looking up at the front of the car.

Your heart drops.

“Hi,” the girl in the shotgun seat lilts, her bleached hair falling into wavy ringlets against Jaehyun’s leather seats. “Y/N, right? I remember you! You’re Yongie’s baby sis.”

You itch to fill the silence that follows, even though you assume she would have no trouble clearing it with her well-known, extroverted dynamic. There’s an unnamed tension in the car between the two people in the front seat, and it’s so intense that you could cut it with a knife.

You take shallow breaths, not sure what to make of your position. I’m sitting in a car with my crush and his former situationship— holy. How did we get to this point? She’s literally—

“—Lim Sae-mi,” you attempt to give her a genuine smile, flashing your teeth in what you pray isn’t an awkward expression.

Saemi simply twinkles in the rear view mirror, her delicately painted lips stretching up before she twists around to observe you.

“You do remember me! Look at how pretty you are too,” she exclaims, reaching back to pat down a strand of your hair, her voice laced with sticky sweetness. “You could be a model, just like Yongie. And your hair is so healthy, I’m jealous. Isn’t her hair so so nice, Jae?”

Jaehyun snaps to attention at the mention of his name, seeming to be in some sort of haze with the way he looks like he’s holding his breath for as long as humanly possible.

“Yeah.” You find yourself wilting in the slightest at his monotone voice. Looking out the window as he starts driving towards the outskirts of town, you try not to let yourself be too disappointed at the way he loses such distinctive qualities when around the girl sitting next to him.

Jaehyun freezes up when Saemi turns to him all doe-eyed, flashbacks flitting through his mind of the days when he’d anticipate the moments he’d see her again when they were younger. Strangely enough, the effect that she used to have on him — palpitating heart, nervous ticks, rosy cheeks, uncanny attraction — seems to have dissipated. Now, highschool-Jaehyun seems so far away, and their memories even further.

What’s changed?

“Um,” you start as you watch suburban lights zoom by less and less frequently, your brain working just as fast to eliminate some of the weird, awkward tension happening in the car. You don’t really know enough to make conclusions, but something must have happened in the past for them to react to each other like this. “How’s SNU? Do you guys run into each other often on campus?”

Jaehyun chuckles lowly, a tinge of uncertainty lining his tone as he waits for Saemi to answer your question.

“Right, you’re going to uni next year right? Hmm… we don’t really see each other on campus at all, now that I think about it,” she simpers, frowning at the road in front of her before brightening up in less than a second. “But that's because Jae’s so busy, preparing to be a future doctor and all. He was always the smartest one out of all of us.”

You watch as he falls silent, knuckles tightening on the steering wheel as his jaw clenches ever so slightly.

“Hey, we should catch up sometime Jae,” she adds on with a tone like she doesn’t really mean it before turning her gaze to him, tacking on a noise of agreement with herself as if she's already decided that they will.

She knows they won’t.

You watch their eyes meet briefly before Jaehyun breaks it to turn the steering wheel left onto a never-ending stretch of a lone, empty road.

Saemi’s a hard person to figure out. You know that she’s charming when she wants to be and firm when she needs to be, but you also know from Taeyong that she has a personality she can flip on and off like a switch; it’s almost as if mind games with the people around her are amusing, and it’s up to the other person to figure out what her true intentions are. It’s understandable why so many people find her alluring.

Glancing up at the back of her head once more, you observe as she leans back with a faint frown before swallowing something in her hand that looks like a bottled shot. She looks uncomfortable as she shifts in her seat every few minutes, and you’re not sure if she’s more put off by the alcohol or by Jaehyun. Your guess would be the latter, even if her voice makes it seem like she’s the most confident person in the world.

You don’t even attempt to start another conversation, instead opting to roll down the window so that you can watch empty land flash by, an occasional plant breaking the smooth ground. The car picks up speed on its own with no other vehicle in sight, the only light coming from the rising crescent moon and a solo gas station situated further down the road.

The three of you perk up as you approach the oil refill and the only other car at the station, a big pick-up with dressed-up figures leaning out of its windows and sitting around the back cargo bed. You assume they’re heading to the same place you are with the way they all shout at each other as they pass a dark bottle back and forth. A boy gets out of the driver’s seat to walk over to Jaehyun’s car and lean through Saemi’s side of the window, shades pushed up into his hair and beads and cuban links dangling out of his shirt. You don’t recognize him, but you’re not surprised when Johnny knows just about every young person in the world.

“Jaehyun, man! And Saemi, damn, I haven’t seen you guys in a while. Headed to Johnny’s?” he exclaims with a loud voice and wide smile, reaching in to pat a long-lost friend on the shoulder. Just like that, the extroverted Jaehyun and Saemi are back, conversing with him as if their awkward energy and off demeanors didn’t just dictate the ride over.

The guy notices you in the back when your eyes meet accidentally, both of you taken aback.

“And who might this be?” He smirks at you, gaze never leaving yours as he directs the question to the other two in the car. You smile back just to be friendly, but with the way he’s staring at you, you’re not sure if that’s the right way to go about things.

“Lee Taeyong’s sister,” Jaehyun speaks up, glimpsing back at you with an unreadable look. A look of recognition flashes over the stranger’s face as his mouth opens in surprise.

“So this is the sister. Shit, is that why I’ve never seen her around?”

“Yeah.” There’s a bitter undertone to his voice, expression faltering before he raises his eyebrows with a smile. “And that’s why she’s off limits, man. I know that look all too well.”

You look at your brother’s friend in question, leaning forward, but Jaehyun doesn’t even glance at you. Both of you know that Taeyong isn’t really the overly protective type, so why would he say that? Maybe he knows that this guy is bad news, so he’s warning me. You nod to yourself, satisfied with your quick thinking. That sounds about right.

You’re about to offer a comment yourself, but you’re stopped by a—

“Lim Saemi! No fucking way, is that really you?” another shrill voice calls from across the expanse of the gas station, a former classmate stalking across the black cement in teetering heels as she waves dramatically at the girl in front of you. “It is you! I can’t believe we ran into you like this, you gotta join the party truck now!”

Saemi seems to recognize her, waving dramatically out the window to her friend. In a matter of seconds, the girl has pulled her out of Jaehyun’s car as she laughs at her friend’s antics of tugging on her wrist to string her along, drunk. Saemi throws you and Jaehyun a look that seems to say everything and nothing at the same time; if you were to interpret it in your own language, it would spell out: So sorry I’m ditching you guys! I love both of you to pieces but I’d honestly rather drink bleach than get back in that car. Hope you understand. Muah.

And with that, you watch Saemi switch cars in a matter of moments. The boy follows them back to their chaotic ride to Johnny’s after waving goodbye at Jaehyun, who’s watching them without any emotion bleeding through his stoic face. You can’t even begin to guess what's going through his mind as his eyes flick back to his dashboard, spaced out.

You pause.

“...and then there were two.”

Biting your bottom lip when you realize you mumbled that out loud, and you’ve genuinely never wanted to be six feet under more because the man hasn’t even said a word since she left you two.

Jaehyun freezes at your voice, almost as if he forgot you were in the car. Letting out an airy laugh after a moment, your shoulders relax when you sense that his weird, Saemi-caused demeanor has faded with her sudden absence.

“Wanna move to the front? It’s lonely up here.” You perk up at his belated response, excitedly getting out of the back to slide into the shotgun seat at his invitation. The man next to you seems to visibly relax, stomach releasing and shoulders drooping with less tension as he starts the car and turns back onto the stretch of empty road.

The silence doesn’t bother you this time when Saemi’s absent; it’s pleasant and full, as if both of you needed this momentary break from nonstop life to collect yourself. Staring at the dust picking up along the wheels while the needle on the speedometer rises up and up, you find the scene before you therapeutic in unexplainable ways.

Jaehyun feels the same, his eyes spacey as one hand rests languidly on the steering wheel with ingrained muscle memory. The vehicle coasts past blank acres and rolling hills, the burning moon engaging in hide-and-seek as it appears and disappears behind their peaks. He doesn’t even feel the need to turn up the stereo as he usually does when your audible, light breaths are sufficient enough. It’s comforting in ways he didn’t know he needed.

You recognize how close you are to Johnny’s estate when you see the road before you thin into dirt and pebbles, a grandiose silver gate barely visible in the far distance. Behind the gate is the unmistakable gleam of polished stone, no doubt the road that leads up to the party and an onslaught of cars. If you concentrate hard enough, your mind can even conjure up the deep bass of the music that the host prefers at his mixers, their heavy resonance flowing through the thick soil to the bottom of Jaehyun’s car and all the way up to the soles of your feet.

You’re just about to point your strange observance out when Jaehyun makes a sudden swerve, pulling off to an edge of mangled weeds and tree roots, the car rolling to a shuttering stop just before a barren field of dead plants. Your body lurches forward a bit with the movement, the boy apologizing profusely when he sees you adjust your seatbelt with confusion written all over your expression.

“Fuck, sorry sorry sorry,” he mumbles, moving his hand in front of you as if you could fall out of your seat at any minute. “I just… the stars are stunning right now, we gotta stop for a sec. You don’t mind if we…”

He trails off, distracted, as he pulls the car door open hastily, rushing out to take in the night sky in its full glory. It’s as if he doesn’t move fast enough, the stars will pull a disappearing stunt on him.

It’s endearing to see Jaehyun like this, a smile subconsciously finding its way onto your face when you spot him bouncing on the balls of his feet lightly. His eyes are completely enamored with the sight above him, neck craned up at an odd angle to see everything; from the way his fingers dig into his palms in excitement to the cold flush on his cheeks from the biting evening chill, it’s like he doesn’t know what to do with himself when encountering such a beautiful product of mother nature.

The thought of Johnny’s party evaporates from both of your minds as you find yourself mirroring Jaehyun’s position.

After a few minutes of stillness, he looks at you with the very stars from the sky in his eyes.

“Can we stay here for a bit?”

He beams at your “of course” before hoisting himself onto the cool hood of his Mustang and offering a hand out for you to grab. Pulling you up onto the spot beside him with a huff, he pulls your wrist to shift your body closer to his before smiling contently to himself.

You try not to let your mind spiral at his warm touch, instead focusing your attention on the blanket of constellations that greet you from the inky stretch of night sky. The cold metal of the hood cools your burning skin as your legs stretch out in front of you, skin ghastly as your arms support your weight from behind you.

When he hears your faint intake of breath, Jaehyun allows his eyes to leave the pretty view above him to the pretty view beside him for a few seconds, letting them linger on your side profile as you stare up in awe. They fall from the slope of your nose to the open curve of your lips, circling around your neck and raking over the ornate gems decorating your skin. You’re breathtaking in 1001 ways, and it’s such a pressing realization that he blinks away in shock when your gaze suddenly meets his.

“Do you do this often?”

“When I need to get away for a bit. All of my best ideas come to me at night, I think. There’s just something about darkness and non-artificial light which is curiously inspiring.”

You nod, leaning back on the windshield and resting your head against its glass. Nighttime lets you think in the abstract, where the shadows don’t take shape and remind you to think in a direct and methodical way.

“I get that,” you empathize. “After Taeyong left, I used to climb onto my roof after dark and just sit there alone for hours. I wouldn’t know how much time had passed until I got back into my room, and to be honest, that was my favorite time of the day. It took my mind off things, even if it was only for a few hours.”

“You know, Yong and I used to do that when we were younger. You were too little to remember I think, but we’d go up after your parents fell asleep and throw basketballs down the side of your house to see how far they would bounce up… we probably hit your window too a few times. Only a few.”

“That was you?” you jut, incredulous.

“Oh, so she does remember,” Jaehyun laughs under his breath, playfully avoiding eye contact when you scoff at your brother and his' antics. “Anyway, I wanna go up there again someday.”

“Our roof? I’ll bring you.”

Jaehyun turns to face you.

“Promise? I’m counting on it, Lee.”

You don’t hide your bashful smile this time, looking away when the boy flashes his dimples at you. Your insides flood with warmth as you secretly bring the back of your hand up to feel your cheek, scared of its betrayal of your feelings.

Jaehyun sighs, content, after a few moments, his neck lolling at the joint to stargaze once again. He feels entirely relaxed at this moment; there’s nothing that Mother Nature can’t fix.

“History revolved around looking at the stars and just talking, you know? I wish I could stay here forever and never grow up.”

You tilt your head curiously.

“Why, you don’t like being an adult?”

“Not that,” he shakes his head. “It’s more of, I pretend to be collected and mature and all-knowing, but the feeling of having no control over life magnifies as I get older. My head and heart haven’t grown up fast enough to catch up.”

“Jaehyun.”

“Hm?”

“You don’t ever have to pretend. It’s… it’s okay to not know what you’re doing or what the future looks like, and it’s okay to let yourself go at times too. Being an adult doesn’t mean always knowing the right things to do or figuring out every little detail right now,” your words stumble a bit as they spill out, but he seems to catch onto every word perfectly. “I’m scared too, so it’s kinda ironic that I’m giving you this advice when I can’t follow it myself.”

“We can trade words of wisdom,” Jaehyun offers more lightheartedly. “It’s so much easier to give advice to other people than to yourself.” You can’t think of a better way to phrase it than that.

“And I think simply moving forward with what you can muster is the best we can do,” you add on. Jaehyun just stares at you as you talk, chin in his palm as he takes in your advice with sincerity. “Things will just come and go naturally as we go on.”

“You’re right. Time tells, Y/N. And frankly, you’re so much more mature than me.”

“Me?” You frown, surprised at the fact that he thinks you are. “That’s so strange to hear, because I feel like I’ll never be independent in the way that you and Tae are. Even though we’re not that far apart in age, I’ve always thought you guys were from a different galaxy, like fear wasn’t a word in your dictionary and maturity has always just come naturally.”

“It’s all in the way we carry ourselves, but maturity itself doesn’t come from this,” Jaehyun waves his hand around to outline your body in an imaginary circle, “but from this.” You watch as he taps a purposeful finger against your temple. “And you have more of it than anyone my age. You have a mind that people would die for, and I think that’s something to be very proud of.”

The wind whistles soundly as the two of you take in the world with new perspectives, sitting up a little straighter and legs just barely touching as he moves closer without even noticing. You don’t say anything for a while, and you don’t need to. He recognizes how you need a few minutes to let his words soak in, and that’s what makes you so you. Jaehyun knows you won’t just take his words on a whim and forget them ten minutes later; you’re the kind of person that internalizes everything he says with genuine feeling and gratefulness, and that quality is what makes you, in his opinion, celestial.

“You always know just what to say,” you finally whisper, and he almost doesn’t catch it.

You receive no reply except for the most adoring look in his eyes as he smiles fondly at you. The breeze blows wisps of your hair around your face, and Jaehyun can’t help it when he reaches out to tuck a stray strand behind your ear. His fingers linger — longingly, if you dare say — before he makes himself pull away.

You’re scared to let yourself believe that you might have a chance this time; everything floods back and hits your heart at full power, and you think that your newfound connection you’ve found with the boy over this summer has trumped all of your past memories. Your feelings are fragile, and the way he looks at you is terrifying. He makes your heart race violently; your feelings from when you were fifteen don’t even compare.

“It’s too chilly for a summer month,” he speaks up suddenly, rubbing his arms and trying to lighten the mood. You shake your mind out of its storm of complicated emotions before offering a small smile back.

“Always speaking the truth, aren’t you?” You tease, playing with the hem of your short dress. Jaehyun makes a noise of agreement before a boyish grin stretches across his face.

“Yeah, which is why Leonardo DiCaprio is not—”

“—UH,” You stop him mid sentence, shushing him. “Let’s not finish that sentence.”

“—peak acting which is why—”

“La la la lala,” you sing, covering your ears with your hands childishly and squinting so that you don’t have to see Jaehyun raising an eyebrow at you, amused. “I can’t hear youu.”

“I take back the part about you being more mature than me.” Only one boy is capable of making your moods flip like this, and he’s sitting right next to you as your laughs ring out in tandem through the night.

Eventually, after a few more back-and-forths under the dark sky, Jaehyun takes it upon himself to teach you some astronomical terms. You doubt you’ll remember them, but he promises he’ll make it easy for you to hold in your mental library.

“You need to be prepared,” he stresses, “if you’re gonna come with me next time.”

“Next time… stargazing?”

“Yup,” he answers matter-of-factly. “Let’s see… there’s a triangle of importance in my opinion. The true triune, holy grail of astronomy.”

You watch him sink into his element, musing upon the milky way above.

“Stars,” he air-traces the Orion constellation slowly. “Moons,” he continues, moving his arm in front of you to point at the claw of the silver crescent moon. Jaehyun lets his hand fall, the tip of his finger grazing your skin in the slightest as it hovers in front of your heart. “And celestial bodies.”

…

You mentally prepare yourself to get an earful from Chaewon as the drive up to Johnny’s resumes…

…two hours late.

In your defense, it wasn’t completely your fault. Jaehyun says you can blame it on him when she throws her fit at you being late — and boy, do you know she will — but you also know that when you recount what happened to cause your tardiness, she’ll excuse it. Partially. Maybe even throw in a sushi dinner and smoke sesh, then all of your sins would be forgiven in her book.

You try to distract yourself from Jaehyun’s sweet actions just a few minutes earlier by thinking about where you might find Chaewon and Mark when you get there; maybe the drink-stocked kitchen, where Mark will surely be… or outside, where people like Chaewon usually go with their ziploc bags and scratched-up lighters.

Where would Jaehyun go?

You groan inwardly when you catch your brain drifting to the idea of the man next to you once again, said man driving with a dopey expression on his face as Johnny’s estate comes into full view. You can’t tell if it’s because of a well-needed down-time with the stars (and time with you, if you dare to think optimistically) or because it looks like there’s strobe lights flashing out of every window of the ground floor—

“—holy shit, they really went all out,” Jaehyun gapes, hands slacking on the steering wheel as you both take in the scene before you. “Johnny’s fucking insane. Maybe even like, should-be-checked-into-a-facility insane.”

Your eyes widen as the building unfurls itself before you, a mansion so grand that it’s comparable to Gatsby’s in every way. It’s got a certain vintage charm to it, something you assume Johnny’s parents built in homage to their roots with veiny, marbled stairs and towering Roman columns. The chaos that’s happening in and around the home itself, however, is a different story. You can see the drunk bodies already as they move around to invisible music, and waves of people climb spiral staircases up to the upper levels as they fumble drinks around. Silhouettes of the party-goers are littered across the vast, arched windows, stone trims decorating their sills with impeccable detail; the estate is truly a needle that shines brilliantly in a haystack of country homes, the nearest house being a whole 20 minute drive away. You’d been to his countryside home only once with Taeyong when you were younger, but seeing it in all its glory during the nighttime is a whole different experience.

“Nah,” you grin when he puts the car into park behind a train of assorted automobiles that cover the driveway. “He's that special kind of chaebol-insane. I propose not eating the rich, because what would the world be without Johnny Suh.”

Jaehyun simply chuckles lightly before getting out of the car and walking around to your side, opening the door before helping you out. You’d be lying if you said that the butterflies in your stomach didn’t just seize at his actions.

But nothing good lasts forever.

Just as soon as the butterflies come, they die off when you notice the immediate, uncanny switch in Jaehyun’s disposition.

You’re not sure if it’s the deafening bass-boosted music flooding into the air or the multitude of bodies in front of the house alone as the two of you approach the open door, but he seems to be pushed into a different element the closer you get. You recognize it as the one that you’d only heard of in high school, the one who frequented house parties on school nights with your brother, the one who shone in a room full of people, the infamous heartbreaker Jaehyun.

You can see the shift in his eyes, the way his pupils dilate slowly as they gain that undeniable gleam. You can feel his muscles lose a tension you didn’t even know was there, especially when he swings his arm around your shoulders casually, letting his hand rest against your collarbone. You can hear the calls of his wicked name already from both females and males alike, their shouts pulling him away from you as multiple people are drawn to him right away.

You recognize a few of them, hometown names that make their presence known as they clap Jaehyun on the back and reach out for intoxicated hugs. It’s also now that you realize the sheer amount that the boy you practically grew up with — the very one who spent his school day afternoons playing in your living room — changes when with other people. His popularity was never a mystery to you, but seeing it in person like this… he acts like he’s finally at home. A true socialite who flourishes when surrounded by people.

And you would never hold that against anyone, except until—

“Hey, Y/N, I’ll catch up with you later, okay? Promise.”

Ah.

His voice rings out flippant and unfamiliar, arm slipping from your shoulders like deadweight, and his fingers don’t linger on your skin longingly this time. Without looking back, he’s swept away by a myriad of high school friends as they drag him off to only God knows where. They hand him drinks and jostle around with each other between heated bodies, his silver rings glinting under the lights as he throws his head back for a bitter shot.

You watch as their forms retreat into the depths of the party until the shadows swallow him up and your eyes can’t follow him anymore.

Left to hover awkwardly by yourself at the door of Johnny’s house with no drink in hand and a bewildered twist in your expression, suddenly, all the moments that have led up to now feel like a fever dream. Everything just happened so fast. One minute he’s next to you, and you’re sure you’ve fallen again. Hard. And the next moment he’s gone with the wind, like a figment of a dream flickering in and out of consciousness. Sure, you hadn’t expected to spend the whole night with him, but you thought that after your many little talks he would want to stay with you a little longer than three seconds.

At least he promised to find you later, but you’re still left feeling unsure about where you stand with him in contrast to the bubbling feeling of affection you had felt earlier in the night. The way he acts is giving you emotional whiplash.

I have to find Chaewon and Mark, you think to yourself suddenly, trying to shake your head of Jaehyun-related thoughts. The way he’s plagued your thoughts far too many times these past few months terrifies you, and it feels like you’ve lost your mind for real this time. You’re charged with a new determination to not think about the boy until he comes back to you himself. It’s not worth ruining your night over maybe’s.

Weaving through sweaty figures and waving instinctually at the people who happen to recognize you, you find yourself in a sort of trance as you strain to catch a glimpse of one of your friends. The bass-boosted music fills your ears with a heavy buzz as you make your way through what feels like hundreds of people.

A cold hand abruptly reaches out to grasp your wrist when you approach the closed off kitchen, causing you to cautiously glance back at its owner with your other arm ready to push them off.

“Babe, what are you doing here all alone?”

You jump slightly before giving him a childish slap on his arm as a grinning Mark reaches out to embrace you, and the strong smell of twisted tea pungent on his breath. His hand comes up to tuck your head into his neck familiarly, an old habit from when you were young that tends to come out in his drunk endeavors.

“You scared me,” you mumble into his shirt, voice muffled by the fabric. “I was trying to find you, but there’s literally thirty million people in this damn house.”

Feigning hurt, Mark pulls away to put a hand to his heart. “You can’t recognize me from a house away?” His sarcasm makes you squint at him, your hand reaching out to tug him along with you.

“No, Mark. I actually can’t recognize you from a house away,” you bite back, mumbling an extra, “surprisingly too, because I could probably hear your loud-ass laugh from another country if I really wanted to.”

“Literally shut up.”

“Never. Come find Chaewon with me?”

“I-” Mark sighs, giving in to your pleading eyes. What can he say, he has a self-destructive soft spot for his best friend. “Fine. But only if you get her to play one of the drinking games with me, ‘cause you never want to,” he tsks. You offer him an innocent smile before turning towards the back balcony. Gripping Mark’s arm tightly as the two of you make your way through clusters of people, you glance back every so often to make sure he’s still with you. You don’t want to be left alone again.

Again. Like Jaehyun just did when he said he wanted to spend time with me…

He seems to sense your uneasiness when you pause for a moment to look down, the fluorescent lights that lead to the back glass doors making your eyes sting as your fingers tighten their grip on his wrist.

“Hey hey hey,” the boy pauses to move in front of you with worry creasing his brows. “You good?”

You blink away from him, mumbling an unsure “yeah,” before clearing your throat. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just got dizzy for a sec.”

Mark puts his hands on your shoulders carefully, eyes scanning the way your face looks more apprehensive than usual and your head isn’t held just as high as the Y/N he knows would. He’s had almost his entire life to study your moods and the rises and falls of your expressions, and he knows that something heavy is bothering you to the point where you’re letting him see it bleed through your normal, carefree facade. It’s something serious, and he also knows you’re not gonna tell him until you’re ready.

So for now, he simply smooths down any invisible tensions in your arms and straightens your posture for you like he would in your younger school days, gentle and nimble fingers adjusting the straps of your dress like a parent figure would.

“I like this number on you. You should wear it more often.”

“Thank you,” you smile gratefully at him, forcing your feet to move forward once again. It's not unusual for Mark to compliment you, but it feels particularly comforting tonight after so much of your confidence in yourself has been built up and torn down in a matter of hours.

You don’t let your gaze take in anyone except a potential Chaewon as the two of you finally make it outside, scared of potentially seeing someone you don’t want to see. Out of the corner of your eye, Mark gestures animatedly to the lit up garden, far fewer people mingling in its flowering, winding paths than inside.

“Oh! Chaewon’s right there,” he pushes you lightly in her direction, a poised figure leaning, relaxed, on one of the ivy-slinked marble balconies. “I’m not gonna go far, but I’ll get some drinks from the kitchen for us and be right back, okay? I won’t leave you guys for long.” You’re silent for a moment.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry, Y/N? You’ve done nothing wrong, but whoever or whatever’s bothering you should feel ashamed for making you apologize for nothing,” he chastises immediately, indignant towards the fact he has an inkling of who’s made you feel this way. It pains him to see his best friend hurt silently.

You nod before he gives you one last pat and nudges you in the direction of Chaewon. She turns on her heel just as Mark leaves, face lighting up when she spots your form heading in her direction.

“Took you long enough!” She calls out over with a hand reaching out for you, her other occupied by a flute of some mysterious fizzy liquid. “I’ve been waiting so that we can try the colorful shots in Johnny’s fridge together. I know you secretly like those.”

You snap yourself out of your thoughts before managing a grateful smile as she pulls you into a side hug. “Sorry, the uh… drive took longer than anticipated,” you mumble, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Who’d you come with again? I feel so bad that we couldn’t pick you up, but the setup literally took the living energy out of me.”

You bite your lip nervously, eyes flicking to the night sky in reassurance.

“I came with— I came with Jaehyun,” you spit out quietly, already predicting her reaction in your head.

“Damn, for real? I told your brother to call one of your other friends, but this is so much better. Did you guys get time to talk or what?” Chaewon lifts her drink to her lips as she waits with wide eyes, anticipating an answer that you know you can’t give her. If anyone has always rooted for the possibility of him liking you back, it’s her.

“I don’t know,” you finally whisper, giving up as you tug your fingers through your hair. “It’s just… he’s a confusing person. Like yeah, we talked, but I can’t figure him out at all. He goes back and forth from being the closest I’ve ever felt to a boy to an almost distant stranger in a matter of seconds.”

Your friend’s face falls at your words, clearly noting how much you’re beginning to get stressed out over him. It kills her to see anything but a smile on your face, and the fact that it’s because of someone who you’ve pined over for so long is detrimental to watch.

“Y/N…”

“It’s fine. I’m making a big deal out of nothing, probably.” Your voice cracks slightly in the middle of the sentence, but you mask it with a quiet laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a real chance with him to begin with, so try not to expect much.” Chaewon’s bitter smile reflects her inner confliction as she reaches out to take your hand in hers.

“Stop, don’t think like that,” she mutters.

“But don’t worry, there’s still,” you whisper, putting your pointer finger and thumb up to approximate the size of the tiny moon in the sky above you, “a little hope. There’s always been.”

You nod to yourself, almost like a subtle reassurance. You’ve always had faith and confidence in your own feelings, and a little hope has never killed you. If anything, it’s brought you closer to Jaehyun than you’ve ever been, and getting to know him in ways that you were never able to has been a silver lining in itself. Just maybe… deep down, not in the way you know you wish you had.

“I love how you’re always been so sure of what you want,” Chaewon confesses. It’s both a blessing and a curse. “But tonight’s about having fun, okay? No use wasting time on a boy that can’t get his own shit straight.”

With a giggle, she pulls you towards the house once again. “I want to see you get wasted. His name is not allowed as far as I’m concerned.”

“Jaehyun’s name…?”

“Who?”

You shake your head with a smile as she feigns confusion with an innocent expression. I don’t deserve my friends, you think to yourself, heart warming at how much they try to make you feel better.

“Come on, Y/N. Look around at all the people,” she laughs out in the tone of a true socialite as she tugs you towards where most of the partygoers are congregated, littered across every corner with their short dresses and sweaty skin. Noticing that your mouth is still tinged with a hint of apprehensiveness, she stops in her tracks and turns to you. “You’re telling me that you’re gonna let him do this to you? This night is for us, not waiting for a stupid boy that’s had the chance of a decade to love on you, pretty girl.”

She fiddles with your dress and smoothing down its invisible wrinkles as you nod along with her, mind willing itself to focus on yourself and your friends instead of—

Right. He doesn’t exist right now.

“And you look so good right now that anyone would be stupid not to feel lucky for having your attention,” she affirms, shiny hair tumbling under fluorescent lights as she beams at you. You can’t help but wrap your arms around her, the comfort of her mere presence and consoling words making your heart burn.

“Love you, Chae. I think we should just date instead,” you mumble into her shoulder, her signature, bright laughter ringing out at your words.

Her eyes brighten even more when she spots Mark appearing back behind you with entire bottles of liquor in his hands.

“Where the hell did you get those, my god,” she ooh and aah’s at him as your face lights up at the appearance of the boy.

“Johnny’s hidden stash in one of the guest bedrooms. He thinks he’s slick,” he snorts, putting a finger up in a shushing motion when Chaewon gasps dramatically. When you giggle at your best friend’s antics, he turns to look at you with a hint of worry on his face.

You seem to have cheered up a bit since he left you to get drinks, but he also knows how good at hiding your true feelings you are. From poker faces to fake laughs, you’ve got it all under your belt. He just wishes you would just let go sometimes, but it’s understandable when he thinks about you as a person. It’s simply in your nature to be selfless, and ever since the two of you were young, you’ve never been one to bother anyone with your own worries. No wonder he’s worried as you crinkle your eyes in elation at him, a complete 180 from five minutes ago.

Glancing at Chaewon, she nods at him discreetly, seemingly having a conversation with just their eyes. You’re okay now.

Letting out a short breath of relief, Mark loops his arm with yours before pulling you into the lion’s den of a party haven.

“Let’s get fucked up, hmm?”

…

You don’t know how much time has passed as you trudge through the garden with your heels in one hand, Chaewon’s fingers laced with yours in the other.

You’re sure it’s been at least three hours since you arrived. No, two. Maybe four?

To be honest, time isn’t even a concept in your book as you swing your arm with your friend’s, a drunken-dopey smile on your face as you relish the feeling of the dirt and grass against your bare skin.

Maybe you would’ve known when Mark had handed you the first shot, eyes flicking absentmindedly to the mounted clock in Johnny’s spacious living room — but you hadn’t cared enough then to figure out the numbers and read the time properly. In fact, you don’t think you were even thinking about anything except getting a bit of alcohol in your system. Forgetting was the first thing on your mind.

And boy, did everything spiral from there.

You recall vague bits here and there, from getting too close with familiar faces to being handed funky glasses with sparkly liquids. It was all a blur of overdue laughter and shots after shots, and you have to admit, completely letting loose for the first time in a while felt numbing in the most beautiful way.

You remember Mark drunkenly laying his head down in your lap at one point, tapping the hard liquor in your solo cup and mumbling a happy, “water fountain?” up at you. You weren’t seeing double just yet, but you certainly weren’t thinking straight enough either to comprehend his words fully. So, with absolutely no hesitation and a tipsy giggle, you poured the rest of the contents in your cup into his open mouth as carefully as you could (read: not careful at all). He had sat up with a cheeky smile, wiping the surprisingly dark, bloodred liquid from his bottom lip before it dribbled down and stained his skin.

Everything after that moment felt muggy, like a heavy blanket was wrapped around your head and knotted twice around your neck. You suppose that the alcohol added up at some point, pushing you past the point of clarity.

And suddenly now, you’re here. In the grass with Chaewon, doing only God knows what in a freezing night chill with your short dress and absence of a cozy summer jacket. You don’t even know how you got outside in the first place.

The cold air is good for you, however, as you can feel the blurriness start to fade away bit by bit. You’re not stumbling around as much anymore, but your grip on your friend’s hand is as tight as ever as you make your way through pretty flower bushes and onto a stone path.

“Oh no, someone dropped their phone,” Chaewon laments with exaggerated sadness — no doubt the alcohol talking — before leaning down to pick up the shiny device. Dusting it off with her fingers, she traces a frowny face into its glass, causing it to suddenly turn on.

“Jesus,” you squint into its blinding screen, mentally cursing the person who had the brightness turned all the way up and causing tiny white dots to appear in your vision. “What time is it?”

“You have eyes, look yourself,” Chaewon turns her head towards you dramatically, words slightly slurred as she throws you an unimpressed look. “But it’s 2:43 am. I can’t believe we’re still conscious.”

You groan, rubbing lightly at your eye before she’s talking again, swaying slightly as she speaks. Letting your gaze wander, you let yourself linger on the few people either passed out on messy lawn chairs or calling their friends for late night rides. Some are standing around like you and Chae, heads hanging down and clearly not in their best condition. There’s people with their arms thrown over the shoulders of their friends too, providing obvious support for their less coherent counterparts.

A couple half hidden behind the edge of the balcony catches your eye, your muggy mind inwardly gushing at how cute they are. You want a relationship like that. Their figures are hidden by the shadows of the house, but you can still see how the boy holds her forearm with care as he leans against the stones with her, head tilted impossibly close to the girl’s to display his full attention on whatever she’s telling him through her hushed whispers.

“—it’s okay ‘cause we’re sleeping over at Johnny’s tonight anyway. And, he has like a thousand guest bedrooms so we can choose any one of them—”

The couple lean into the wall more, the light repositioning as they shift their bodies closer, obviously very comfortable with each other. The girl moves further into the light, shiny hair catching onto the glow as she turns in place. He chases her movements, following her into the beam of the balcony lights as their faces are lit up under the sudden absence of shade.

You breathe out.

No way.

“—and I’ve always wanted to stay at Johnny’s and experience that rich kid life, you know? I wonder what it’s like to—”

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You think that your heartbeat physically stops as you take in the scene before you. Like a thin arrow slicing right through the flesh and tissue of your heart, and it’s violently humbling. Bruising, even.

Stop.

There’s Saemi. And there’s Jeong Jaehyun too in all his glory, looking at her with the stars glittering in his eyes as she tilts her head up towards him.

Your mind goes blank.

“Hey, Y/N, I’ll catch up with you later, okay? Promise.”

That was what, four hours ago?

Ha.

You sober up immediately, like your head has just just been ruthlessly plunged into a bucket of ice cold water. Like God himself is telling you to face the fucking music and come back down to reality. And if you concentrate hard enough, you can even hear your soul shattering, its pieces clattering down and settling at the bottom of your stomach because you actually feel like you might throw up.

I should’ve known, is the phrase that repeats like a mantra in your head, manically getting louder and louder as you blink in pain. Your eyes refuse to leave them for some reason, watching the way his hand comes up to rest on the junction between her neck and shoulder with a delicate touch.

A bitter taste floods your mouth. You feel like you’re playing a one-sided game of push and pull, and it’s worn you out; it’s not disappointment, or even jealousy that fills your body, but fatigue. It’s tiring to let yourself hope, and then get let down time after time and you feel stupid. Disgusted at yourself, even, for attempting to appeal to a boy who had never given you the time of day in the past even though everyone was aware of how blatantly obvious your crush on him was.

You’ve always prided yourself on how true to your own character you are, but in this moment, you feel like a child watching real adults in the real world. Two years' age difference isn’t much in retrospect, but at this moment, Lim Saemi seems like a whole generation above you. Her maturity shines through every part of her — from her gait to the way she dresses to the way she leans into Jaehyun — and you can’t help but let your worst insecurity get to you as they get impossibly closer.

It hurts, because he’s not even mine.

“Y/N, are you listening?”

You don’t answer.

And when the soft plush of his lips come down to place a gentle kiss against her forehead, you decide that you’ve seen enough.

…

Your mouth feels like paper, your head feels like it’s about to split open, and you feel like shit.

Blearily blinking one eye open and then immediately shutting it after getting a glimpse of an unfamiliar ceiling, you groan out loud before stuffing your face into your arm.

Somehow, the little bit of willpower left in you forces your body to get off of the bed you’re on, stumble through the darkness (you think you accidentally trip over a stray body on the ground too), and feel your way to the hallway. Your brain has completely shut off, but you’re also fucking parched and nothing will get in the way of you and water right now.

Your feet miraculously lead you to the empty expanse of Johnny’s kitchen, little sunlight reaching its pristine tiles at such an early hour. Glancing at the red clock numbers on the oven, you blanch when it displays a mocking 6:04am. You’re lucky that your hangovers don’t hit too hard. Pouring yourself a glass of water, you can finally swallow and lean back against the counter in relief as you take a deep breath.

And that’s when it hits you. That’s when everything hits you.

You almost choke on your water as your mind pulls last night from the depths of its sleepiness, from the drinking to the unwanted feelings to the sensation of blacking out. You remember it all.

Taeyong taking a body shot in front of you (scarred). Johnny making out with one of your close school friends in front of you (scarred x2). Mark handing you drink after drink. Chaewon leading you into the garden for fresh air. And… and seeing the boy you like with a girl you thought he had nothing to do with anymore.

Like a floodgate of torturous memories, your mind automatically replays every little interaction without warning as you throw your head back against a cabinet in regret. It’s as if you have no control over what you get reminded of and what you don’t, because of course, the first thing that flashes before you is the feeling you felt when you saw Jeong Jaehyun in the courtyard.

His arm wrapped around the shoulder of Saemi’s as your best friend desperately vied for your attention, the girl finally following your line of sight to eventually see the scene you were watching in chilling silence. And Chaewon had noticed it all, from the way he smiled down at her to the very moment he looked up in your direction.

“Y/N…” she had whispered, the pity clear in her tone. You’d turned your head away quickly, not wanting her to see the tears gathering on your lash-line, but she couldn’t help but notice the way you reached up to wipe them away. Your body had gone into autodrive, quickly moving to the side to get away from the two as fast as you could. Chaewon reached out for you before turning back to glare at Jaehyun, surprised to see him already staring right at you.

He seemed unfairly distraught and guilty in her eyes, his gaze conflicted as his hands fell from Saemi’s face in a flash and hovered in the air in shock. A few seconds later and he snapped out of it, leaving her standing alone and rushing over in your direction, seemingly trying to reach you before you got lost in the mass of people inside the mansion.

As he passed Chaewon’s lingering form, her hand flew out to latch onto his shoulder.

Shaking her head at him — as if saying, you lost your chance ages ago — it was then that she truly felt awful about the inner turmoil her best friend was constantly subjected to when liking a boy like that.

Wincing, you press a cheek to the cold marble countertop of the kitchen as all of your thoughts flitter through your consciousness at once. You wish the dull throbbing in your head would stop, and even thinking about it makes you shift uncomfortably in place, itching to just get outside and clear your mind with fresh air.

Fuck it, you decide, no one’s awake anyway. I need to get away, even if it's only for a few moments.

Pushing your hair out of your face, you finish your water before heading out. There’s an unusual smell of artificial roses as you move through the hallways and descend the grand staircase; it’s eerie to walk in a silent house, all of the hallways dark and stoic. Johnny’s mansion looks like a mini natural disaster with the way decorations and bottles are strewn across its marble floors, almost like savages making use of a castle. It’s like a presentation of physical evidence of what took place last night.

Finally making it outside into the crisp morning air, you relish in the chirping of the songbirds and empty expanse of a dew-tipped garden. Taking a deep breath, you shiver slightly before heading down a small hill behind the garden. You recall there being a lake behind the property that Taeyong and Johnny used to bring you to when you were younger, one with a small dock that retreated far enough into the water that you could be alone without having the urge to constantly look towards the house again.

You don’t expect anyone to be awake — or even outside — this early, but it comes as a surprise when you almost trip over a figure sitting on the bottom-most stone step. Putting a hand to your heart, your eyes widen as they turn to look up at you.

“Oh… hi. I didn’t expect anyone would be awake this early.”

“Yeah, I just needed some fresh air,” you say, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. “So I’m going down to the dock…”

“Ah. I see… um. You- you wouldn’t mind if I joined you, right?”

…

Life is funny sometimes.

As you swing your legs gently above the light waves, you can’t help but think about the irony of the situation you’re in. You bite your lip before turning to the person next to you, their knees pulled up to their chest as they stare out into the water.

“Saemi…”

The girl turns to you, a hesitant smile on her face as she reaches out for your hand.

Lim Saemi takes your fingers between hers before letting out a deep sigh, the talkative persona she normally holds, gone, as she looks between each of your eyes. The hesitance between the two of you is awkward in a way. You’ve never had a full conversation with her and you’ve always assumed things about her based off of others’ recountings, but she couldn’t be more different now.

The little imaginary devil on your shoulder shakes her pitchfork at you, as if saying, “you should be hating her, remember?”

You look down to hide your slight frown.

“I think we have a lot to talk about,” she starts, voice tentative and slow as she purses her lips in contemplation. You still. Nodding your head, you let her move closer to you on the wooden planks of the dock before she makes eye contact with you again.

“You know, sometimes it scares me how alike you and Taeyong look. It’s like staring into a mirror image, and I feel like I see memories in you that I associate with your brother.”

You cock your head at her words. “...we’re pretty similar people too, I think,” you whisper back, an automatic smile reaching your face as your mind finds its own way to him.

“I think so too,” she grins. “Actually, Taeyong and I have been friends for a long time, and he’s always speaked of you so fondly that I couldn’t help but anticipate meeting you. I would see glimpses of you here and there, and he would constantly mention his baby sister and how much he worried about her. He was the best older brother, and anyone could see it.” She pauses, taking in a deep breath. “Yet he treats his friends the very same way, with the same adoration and care. It doesn’t matter how much Taeyong will grow in the future with his escalating popularity and growing talent in music, he’ll always have the kindest soul in my eyes. I’m genuinely so thankful for him, Y/N.”

To hear someone speak about your brother like that triggers an emotion in you that you didn’t even know you had, gaze curious as you wait for her to continue.

“I don’t really know how to start this conversation to be honest, but- I bet you know how hard high school is.” You nod, grimacing at all of the particular more negative memories you have. “You’re balancing on that fine line between feeling too adult to be in school and feeling too childish to live your own life yet, and I, for one, most definitely didn’t know how to deal with such a sudden change in my social and academic surroundings. I think I changed physically a lot then, too. My face, my body, everything. I started morphing into someone that I couldn’t recognize in the mirror, and I came to the realization that boys liked me first for my appearance, not my personality. And… and you know what I regret the most? I learned how to use my body as a weapon.”

“I learned how to change the way I talk, how to talk to boys so that I could get them to do what I want, and suddenly, everything changed even faster. People flocked to me, which is what I had always secretly wanted, but the person that they wanted wasn’t me. I had flown a bit too close to the sun and now I was stuck with this facade that I couldn’t get rid of. It was never just ‘Saemi,’ I was always simply the object of their desires, something to be acquired. And I had brought it upon myself.”

Recalling the Saemi you knew and recognized in high school, you have a bit more of an understanding of her now. She held up a front in order to protect herself, and as a result, she lost touch with her own self. Your heart hurts for her as you hesitate to reach out and offer comfort.

“Your brother was the first one who understood me right away. We met in detention during our second to last year, and he saw right through me in the first ten minutes. Sat me down in the teacher’s empty chair and told me that I was a bitch for breaking one of his friend’s hearts.” She closes her eyes as she recalls that very afternoon. “Taeyong gave it to me plain and straight that day: I shouldn’t have promised false love to so many boys if I wasn’t planning to give it in the first place. Your brother may have been a player too, but the boundaries he always set with his girls made him a thousand times better than I was.”

You place your hand on hers, Saemi giving you a grateful smile in return.

“I thought hard about myself and my decisions after that, and I decided that if I wanted to enjoy the last years of my secondary schooling, I needed to take back control of my own actions. After I apologized to his friend, he offered me genuine friendship in the weeks following, one without the jealousy and lust that I was always caught up in before. I had always been surrounded with so much toxicity, and he was able to pull me out of it so easily that I finally felt seen for the first time.”

She pauses, glancing at you briefly before staring up at the sky.

“That was also… the first time I met Jaehyun.”

You shift, staring down at your shoe laces as they sway lightly with the wind.

Ah, you smile sadly to yourself. We’ve gotten to this part of the story.

“Your brother brought me along with him one day to one of his parties, and I had truly never been enamored with a boy that quickly before.”

You can tell that Saemi’s choosing her words carefully with you, and they hit a lot harder when you relate to what she’s saying. You’re certainly no stranger to his charm.

“We started talking that night and Jaehyun had somehow broken down all of the walls I had carefully built up within the first month of knowing each other. It was new for me. My personal mantra had always followed the lines of, ‘if they like what they see and feel, I might as well use it to my advantage.’ But it was different with him. I didn’t want us to be a one time thing, and I certainly did not want him to think of me as something who couldn’t do that kind of serious relationship shit. I wanted him to like me so badly without thinking about if I had genuine feelings towards him in the first place.”

She takes another deep breath, as if she’s collecting her thoughts, before leaning forward with an airy laugh and sadness clear in her eyes.

“Have you ever mistaken love for dependency, Y/N?”

Have you?

You think back to all the people you’ve liked throughout your teenage years, ranging from hallway crushes to… well- Jaehyun. Your pupils dart to the water as you think about the idea of depending on a person. Do I depend on the people I like, or do I know when to distance myself?

You shake your head.

“Jaehyun and I… we jumped into everything too quickly. It wasn’t even a right person, wrong time situation; we simply weren’t ready. We tried putting our all into this lone spark that we felt without stepping back and really looking at our relationship.” She stops to observe the rising sun above the lake, its golden reflection casting a healthy glow on her skin. Saemi’s beautiful like this, her feelings bare and raw before you as she lays out her emotions so vulnerably.

“I guess I never really loved Jaehyun in the way he loved me. He was looking for something tender and real, and younger me was not in the capacity to give that to him. I tried to convince myself every single fucking day that I liked him in that way, but even I knew deep down that my I would never convince myself. I still had this lingering, detrimental mentality of seeing boys as something I could win over, and my fascination with him intertwined with that in ugly ways.”

Saemi’s face falls a little before she takes both of your hands in hers, eyes sincere as she peers at you.

“The reason I’m telling you all this is because… I saw you,” she whispers carefully, watching your reaction. “Last night. When Jaehyun and I were together in the garden… I saw you watching before you walked away.”

Your heart drops as you look down at her hands holding yours so carefully, her pretty fingers encompassing your wrist as you unwillingly recall the worst emotions you had felt in a while.

She saw.

You only manage to get out a small, “oh,” before she squeezes your hand reassuringly.

“Hey hey hey, look at me,” she leans down slightly to put herself at eye level with you. The edges of her lips quirk up in the slightest, her hair falling elegantly against her face as the wind picks it up and puts it back down again. “I don’t want you to misunderstand. Why? Because all those years ago, Jaehyun misunderstood, and I misunderstood, and it was all of these assumptions and forced feelings that drove our relationship to its grave. We were shit at communicating with each other properly, and that eventually hurt both of us too deeply to heal the right way.”

You nod at her hesitantly, taking in what she’s saying with a newfound understanding. Saemi sighs before smiling again at you.

“I’ve hurt a lot of people in the past,” she says, forlorn, her eyes crinkled as she sniffs in the cold of the morning. “And I never got the chance to apologize to them properly. But last night, I finally worked up the confidence to revisit our high school days with Jaehyun.” She stops, leaning back onto the dock with her hands behind her. Her eyes close as she soaks in the morning sun, and you can’t help but mirror the position as your heart warms for her. “We finally got our much needed closure last night, and I was feeling a bit down afterwards so he was simply comforting me. And I won’t weigh you down with all the nitty gritty details, but we were able to see our ending all the way through without letting our emotions get in the way.”

You can’t help but reach out and hug the girl, your arms wrapping comfortably around her shoulders to express your awe and gratitude. With a little noise of surprise, Saemi pauses for a few seconds before embracing you back. Everything makes more sense now, and you can’t help but feel a little ashamed for jumping to conclusions so easily.

“I’m so grateful that you shared all that with me,” you mumble into her shirt, her chuckle ringing out into the lake as she rubs your back like an older sister would.

“Of course. If anyone deserved to hear all of this, it would be you.”

“Why?”

Saemi snorts, pulling back from your hug before lifting an eyebrow at you.

“Oh please, Y/N, you should see Jaehyun from everyone else’s eyes. We can all see the way he looks at you.” Your mouth drops open slightly, tilting your head in confusion.

“He looks at me a certain way?”

“God, I have never met two more stupid people in my lifetime,” she groans, bringing her fingers up to her temple. “And I say this lovingly, of course.”

With a fond look on her face, she nudges your shoulder. “But I’m really glad Jaehyun has someone like you.”

You bashfully look down at the water, a rosy blush creeping up your cheeks at her words. You were never 100% sure of where you stood with him, but that familiar feeling of hope has started to creep up once again. Could I go through that again, though? That same push and pull?

Seeming to sense your sudden aversion, Saemi loops her arm through yours in one smooth motion and sets your hand in her lap.

“Hey. Promise me you’ll go talk to him?”

You hesitate to reply, mouth dry as you think about everything she’s poured out to you. You think about your own feelings, and you think about the possibility of having something more with Jaehyun. You think about his history with Saemi, and how this issue of communication has ruined your confidence so many times. But what is it all worth if you don’t try?

With a slow nod, you offer her a reassuring smile before dusting off your clothes and standing up. “Promise.”

Saemi grins at you.

“That’s my girl.”

“Jaehyun?” she asks, putting a hand out on his arm as he looks behind her, distressed. She’s never seen him like this, a nervous jitter in his hands as his eyes dart around at the scene behind them.

Turning around, she just manages to catch a glimpse of a girl rushing towards the back of the house, her head downturned but not masking the obvious face of discomfort in her features. Her friend turns around to glare at them before following close after.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, chewing on his lip as he hesitates to run after your escaping form. “I fucked up so bad, Saemi.” Running a hand through his hair in frustration, he lets out a noise of exasperation as he watches you get farther and farther away.

“What?”

“She’s leaving, Saemi. What do I do, what do I do,” he mumbles under his breath. “I just know she’s gonna think I hurt her on purpose. I always fuck it up somehow.”

“Woah, let’s breathe first,” she holds him steady at the shoulders, grip strong as she turns his body to face hers. “Breathe slowly.”

After a few panicked breaths, he looks back at her and attempts to inhale at a slower pace. A few seconds pass and he’s calmed down already, but a worried crease still flits across his features nonetheless.

“Listen to me, Jaehyun. Don’t leave her in the dark.”

His body loses tension bit by bit as he nods back a little, a heavy look in his eyes.

“We both know how that feels, better than anyone.”

…

Twenty-three missed calls.

That’s how many you’ve accumulated over one day.

You do the math on your bedroom ceiling as you lay splayed out on the mattress like a starfish. Each glow-in-the-dark, plastic star represents a missed call, and they swim across your vision as you point up at them with your hand to count them.

There’s seven from Mark, another seven from Chaewon, four from Taeyong, one from Johnny, and the remaining four? Mentally moving the glowing stars across the solar system of the ceiling, you pick four of the brightest glowing stars before keeping them hidden in a little group at the corner of your eye.

4 missed calls from Jeong Jaehyun, your phone reads from beside you on the mattress, the screen habitually lighting up throughout the day.

Your hand itches to grab it and just call him like you so desperately want to, but you exercise self-restraint as you roll over and stuff your face into your pillow. It’s unfairly hot tonight — the sticky, humid type — and being surrounded by all of your fluffy blankets and pillows does nothing to help your condition, but you don’t want to move out of your room. Letting out a muffled scream into the fabric, you groan to yourself when you realize that all of the problems floating around in your head won’t just magically disappear.

A normal Sunday would have gone like this: waking up mid afternoon with an abnormally large appetite, eating the entire contents of your kitchen to your heart’s content, and then going back to bed. Unfortunately, today was a bit different.

For the entire day, you’ve been busy. Busy thinking.

You had quickly left Johnny’s estate after your talk with Saemi early in the morning, borrowing one of Johnny’s cars from his garage and leaving him a little note that you’d return it soon (to be honest, you doubt that he’ll even notice). You’ve been in your room ever since.

With your eyes trained out the window, your record player ran through entire sets of albums as you lay on your bed in contemplation for the entirety of the afternoon. The fan in your room barely kept you cool as it picked up the fabric of your sundress every few minutes, marking another block of time that had gone by without you getting up and doing something about your position.

You let out a humph before throwing an arm over your eyes and retreating back into deep thought.

I’ve been distancing myself from him the entire day, and that’s the opposite of what I want to do, right? I’m turning into exactly what Saemi warned me not to.

Biting your lip, you turn your body over to stare at your motionless phone. But what should I do?

In a single impulsive movement, you reach out to grab the device before you can change your mind. Your fingers lead you to your contacts before your brain can catch up.

You can’t even fully register what you’ve just done, but Jaehyun’s name flashing across your screen certainly makes it all very much real, your phone waiting for him to pick up on the other side of the line. Your face gets hotter and hotter as the seconds tick on, the beeping of a no-caller reply heightening your nerves.

Finally, with a little click from your hand, he picks up. Your eyes widen. You really didn’t really think this through; now you had to actually talk to him.

“Hey,” Jaehyun sounds out, his voice breathless. “I- are you okay?”

“Yeah.” At least I think I am, you add on to yourself, grimacing. “Um… are you free today?”

“Am- am I free today? Yes! I mean yes, yes I’m free today.”

You can’t help but smile at the way he trips over his words a bit, his nervousness bleeding over your speaker.

“Well then, rooftop at mine at 10?”

“For real?” Jaehyun exclaims, checking the time on his alarm clock. That’s in twenty minutes. “Wait, I’ll be there. I promise.”

And with that, the two of you hang up with a million unspoken words and unfinished sentences. You let out the breath you were holding in, because you genuinely thought you would pass out when you heard Jaehyun’s voice again after finding out all that you did. Throwing yourself against your bed, you let yourself indulge in your feeling of hope again.

“He’ll be here,” you sigh in happiness to yourself. You relax into your pillows before springing up immediately, a look of horror taking over your face. “Oh my god, he’ll be here.”

Rushing around your room with a newfound energy, you make sure you don’t look like you just rolled out of bed (although you technically did just roll out of bed, but he doesn’t have to know that) before unlatching the window of your bedroom and carefully climbing out onto your roof.

It’s well past dusk now, and the sky is abnormally clear with not a single cloud in sight. The moon shines brilliantly in its place as it casts an eerie glow on the panels you’re sitting on, their bumpy texture making it seem like the material is constantly shifting.

You let yourself go for a moment, resting your head in the palms of your heads before staring out at the roofs of your city. They create a complex, urban terrain: a mix of timely balconies and rooftop gardens, orange lanterns and fairy lights alike.

The beeping of a car horn brings you out of your daze. Peering down into the street below you, a familiar, classy black car is visible through all of the telephone lines.

Okay Y/N, deep breaths.

Jaehyun gets out of the front seat, immediately looking up in hopes of catching a glimpse of you before you notice he’s there. However, when his eyes follow the length of your house up, he finds that you’re already staring at him with an unreadable expression.

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this nervous in his life. With cold hands, he lifts himself onto the electrical box beside your house before climbing up onto the slope of the roof, climbing over to you with an uneasy smile on his face.

“Hey.”

You tuck your chin into your arms, leaning forward to look at him curiously. “You could’ve taken the window, you know, but that works too.”

“What’s life without any risks, hm?”

As he settles himself, you can’t help but think that there’s a double lining to his words. “That’s the most Jaehyun-esque thing I’ve ever heard.”

His laugh warms your heart in a way you didn't know it could.

The first few moments are quiet, just two pairs of eyes looking up at the stars before Jaehyun breaks the silence with a small cough.

“We got lucky, there’s no clouds tonight. Pure stars.” You look over in his general direction, his gaze not even directed towards the sky anymore.

He pauses, so you turn and happen to meet eyes at the same time. Both of you open your mouths to talk, prompted by the invisible tension between you.

“Let me just say that—“

“I just wanted to tell you—“ he starts at the same time you do, eyes widening when you both go quiet once again. “You go first.” Giving him a grateful smile, you think a bit about how to express yourself before twisting your body completely so that you’re facing him.

“I just wanted to apologize first,” you start, holding up a hand when Jaehyun starts to protest. “Wait. I really want to tell you this before I get too nervous to.”

“I know everyone was worried when I went kinda off the grid this morning, but I needed some time alone with my thoughts. I shouldn't have ignored you like that, especially when things seemed so off between us. This is really hard to say to your face but,” you glance away from him as he waits patiently for you, “I always feel this rush of different emotions whenever I’m around you. And sometimes it’s confusing, but other times—“ stopping to exhale, you notice Jaehyun’s grin from the corner of your eye.

“Hey, why are you laughing? I’m trying to be serious right now,” you whine. He simply puts his hand up to his mouth to hide the elated expression on his face.

“You’re just too cute, that’s all,” he replies adoringly, his eyes creasing behind his hand.

“I can’t take this,” you mutter in embarrassment, stuffing your face into your arm to hide the blush of your cheeks. “See! Stuff like that. You make me experience, like, thirty different emotions at once.”

He simply giggles at you, throwing out a little “my bad,” but he doesn’t sound very sorry at all. You nudge him in the arm.

“Sorry sorry, Y/N. Wait, I’ll be serious now.”

Both of you taking deep breaths, you put your hand up to your heart to calm its erratic beating as Jaehyun composes his expression back to normal.

“I really wanted to apologize too.”

You glance at him in surprise as the words leave his mouth, sincere and heavy.

“I’ve been pretty shitty to you, and I recognize how confusing it must have been for you to watch me constantly go back and forth between different personas. Honestly, being back home forced me to face the people here, and suddenly I was thrown into this internal conflict between my high school life and my present self. That’s still no excuse for how many mixed signals I gave you these past few months, but I want you to know that it was never my intention to hurt you.”

Reaching out to brush a small leaf off your shoulder, his hand trails down your arm until he’s taken your hand in his. You can tell how much he means it by the way he’s looking at you — like you hold the entire galaxy in your eyes. You think that you finally see a replication of how you look at him yourself; after all, it’s being reflected back to you right now.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I hope you can tell, but I really like you,” he whispers, bringing your hand up to his chest. He wants you to feel how much his nerves are racing just as fast as yours.

You think that your heart just about stops. You’ve dreamt of this moment since you were younger, and now that it’s finally coming to life, it’s unreal to think that he feels the same.

“I think you know how I feel,” you reply back quietly, looking down at your hands entwined with his.

“Say it?” he asks with a pleading face, the corners of his lips quirking up when you roll your eyes.

“Jeong Jaehyun, do you really think I believe that you didn’t know that I’ve liked you ever since we were kids?” Shaking his head innocently at your suspicion, he pouts in a manner that’s very unlike him.

“Fine,” you give up, unable to hide the smile creeping up on your face. “I like you Jaehyun, I like you so much that you don’t even know how happy I am right now.”

“Oh, I know. Come here,” he scoots over before tapping the side of his shoulder with his finger. Not getting the memo, you tilt your head inquisitively before he reaches over himself and puts your head on his shoulder himself. If your heart was skipping beats before, it’s probably failing to beat at all now.

“I want you to trust me,” he murmurs under his breath, his grip tightening on your hand. “I know I don’t have the best track record right now, but I’ll prove to you how much I like you.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “You don’t have to prove anything…“ You wholeheartedly believe and trust in his feelings, but with the way he’s looking at you right now, you decide to humor him and raise an eyebrow prompting him to go on.

“Wait, you’ll do anything?” You ask, looking up at the stars to hide your telling grin.

“Anything. Even suffer through another one of those awful DiCaprio movies.”

“Suffer?” you exclaim, your head lifting off of his shoulder with his words.

“Shit- no no not suffer. Who said suffer? You must’ve misheard me, I most definitely said enjoy.”

“You’re on thin ice, Jeong.”

He snorts at your threatening expression, an arm snaking behind you to wrap around your waist protectively.

Turning his head to look down at you, you’re met with his nose almost touching yours. You can see every eyelash, every freckle adorning his skin as neither of you make the motion to move away.

Jaehyun loses his breath at the sight of you so close. He keeps his teasing eyes on yours before taking that extra step forward to bump your noses together. Glancing down at your lips, he steadies himself so that his voice can sound as confident as he envisions it in his head.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please, Jaehyun.”

With your consent, he pulls you forward by the waist before slotting your lips together carefully. You’re not sure if it’s the pressure at which he’s holding you, or the fact that you’ve waited for this moment for almost your entire youth, but kissing Jaehyun is glorious.

He moves a hand up to cup the back of your neck before pushing forward impossibly closer, tucking your hair behind your ear in one smooth motion as his mouth moves in tandem with yours.

You make a noise of surprise when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, giving you a little nip before licking over the skin carefully. The passion and lust that seeps through his tongue is made clear as the minutes pass, and your reactions only spur him on.

Th mix of his skin on yours burning its way across your body and the delicacy at which he touches you makes your heart alight for a completely different reason. Threading your fingers through his hair, you're delighted to find that that particular motion makes him shudder under your hands, and kiss you more like his life depends on it.

After a while of marking each other's skin and exchanging sweet nothings between his kisses, you tap his chest to pull apart for air, your breathless mien making him grin smugly.

“I’m that good, huh?”

“Shut up, Jaehyun.”

…

The rings on your fingers clink with his as you hand him a metal camping cup, its silver surface hot to the touch even at night. Glancing up at Jaehyun, you laugh when you catch his skeptical expression.

“The hell is this…” he asks in borderline horror as the liquid in his cup sloshes around.

“Mark’s gonna love hearing that,” you remark, putting your own cup to your lips as you bring your knees to your chest.

It’s the most comfortable when you’re with Jaehyun like this, sitting on the hood of his car in the dead of the night to stargaze into the early hours of the morning.

It’s been a few weeks since that night on the rooftop, and you’ve never felt more alive. From long drives with Taeyong to mini adventures with Mark, and from jukebox diners with Chaewon and constellation hunting with Jaehyun, you finally feel at home in a place you’re about to leave. University is close on the horizon, but that doesn’t mean you can’t spend your last free evenings with the people you love the most.

“Is this your recipe?” Jaehyun asks, pulling up your legs so that they rest over his lap. You shake your head with a cheeky smile.

“Stole it,” you whisper, scrunching your nose at the distinct smell.

“And what did Mark’s creative ass come up with this time,” he laments back, taking your cup to compare it with his in confusion.

“Our cups hold the same exact thing, Jaehyun. I didn’t secretly poison your drink if that’s what you’re thinking, and I know you are.” You take back your cup before taking another sip and taking a little piece of paper out of your pocket to read from. “But anyway, it's ‘orange liquor, orange juice, lime juice, maple syrup, sliced jalapeño, and agave blanco sugar in the rim.’ You can steal the recipe too, but don't tell him that I gave it to you. He’d murder me.”

“Mm,” he muses, nuzzling into your neck. “I wouldn’t want my girlfriend dead.”

You freeze in mid-air, mind turning the title over and over again in your head. “Girlfriend?”

Jaehyun sits up immediately, looking at you with the most mortified expression on his face. “Fuck, I never asked you to be my girlfriend, did I?”

With a small giggle at his antics, you simply lean against him and pat his arm in consolation. “It’s okay, I don’t need a label to know how you feel about me.” Jaehyun hums contently before suddenly wrapping his arms around you, your delighted shriek ringing out as he pulls you down with him and falls back against the metal roof of the car.

“Can we just stay like this forever?”

You sigh in satisfaction as your body follows the rises and falls of his chest. The stars above seem to blink happily at the two of you as they make their way across the sky, the little, twinkling lights of overpassing planes highlighting their presence.

Intertwining your fingers with his, he gently kisses the side of your face before closing his eyes.

Even if the two of you hadn’t realized it yet, it had always been like this: two childish souls crafting the idea of mature love. Two blooming young adults, with fizzing feelings and cherry picked lips, daring to love one another like the grownups in black and white colored movies.

Your summers are defined by sticky ‘n sweet cherry cola, rides around the abandoned carousel with your friends, and “borrowing” quarters out of your brother’s Cadillac to insert into the jukebox of the local diner. They’re tinged with the taste of Mark’s special drinks and Chaewon’s sweet words, with Taeyong’s cheery voice ringing out throughout your house and your parents’ weekly sitcom reruns. And most of all, summers are made of Jaehyun’s lavender cologne and the way he holds you close when you need it the most.

“Don’t be surprised if the moon calls you by name, Y/N, because I tell her about you all the time.”

…

<3 you can find their character profiles HERE.

[ for Y/N, mark, chaewon, jaehyun, taeyong, and saemi ]

…

xoxo

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