#like are we cursed or what? why is it my drivers going through the same shit😔
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sorry😭 misery loves company
its fine bff you just opened my eyes to it now and I’ll never be okay
#it’s kinda funny tbh#like are we cursed or what? why is it my drivers going through the same shit😔#ask.txt
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LMAOOO THIS WITH THE LECLERC BROTHERS 😭😭
https://youtube.com/shorts/aFHKUtjI44s?feature=share
That went well? (Lando Norris x Leclerc! Reader)
N.B: this had been in my drafts for a while, I hope you like it.
WARNING: SWEAR WORDS. F WORD MULTIPLE TIMES. PREGNANCY PRANK PLOT. MENTION OF COCK AND DICKHEAD (BOTH USED AS INSULTS). MENTIONS OF HITTING / SMACKING AS AN OLDER BROTHER (I DO NOT CONDONE VIOLENCE) let me know if I missed anything!
You didn't know how they managed to convince you, honestly it was a suicide mission, but still you could see the fun in your brothers' reactions, which is why you decided that inviting your brothers and their partners over would be a good way to do the prank.
Setting everything up, you started to get extremely nervous, you didn't know what to expect, all three Leclerc males are very unpredictable even if you grew up together your whole lives.
You knew there was no going back once you heard Carla's (Aurthur's girlfriend) scream from the bathroom, where you had set up the pregnancy test in the bin- hidden but visible enough for someone who would throw something away to see.
Meeting Lando's eyes from across the table, the same thought ran through your heads- well, there's no going back now.
While Arthur rushed to see Carla, followed by Lorenzo and his girlfriend, Charles spotted your nervous expression, your bouncing leg and your nails picking at the opposite thumb tearing off the skin. It was the last action that stopped the middle Leclerc boy dead in his tract, you only did that when you think whatever you did or said was downright bad- should stay away and isolate myself bad.
"YOU FUCKING BRITISH BREADSTICK," a strong, enraged voice echoed through the entire building "I WILL MAKE YOU CHEW ON YOUR OWN COCK YOU DICKHEAD."
Now, the Leclerc brothers have heard Lorenzo cursing up a storm before, but he had always been very careful around YN, installing into Charles and Arthur that yes you can swear and joke around with such words and insults around your friends, but not around girls and most certainly not their baby, innocent sister.
Was YN scared? Yes, she had never heard her brother sound so furious. Was Lando shaking in his non existent boots? Absolutely. The young driver started to sweat as soon as he heard the loud cry of his girlfriend's oldest brother.
Flared nostrils, red face and steam coming out of his ears, Lorenzo appeared at the end of the hall looking like he had fought his way out of an amusement park's death train seat.
"YOU GOT YN PREGNANT!"
Now, it was Charles' turn to follow his older brother's footsteps, "YOU FUCKING TOOL BOX! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"
"YOU WANKER!" now Landk did not expect Arthur to insult him with his own language- the British, but you can't always know what life's gonna throw at you.
Just like how he did not expect to be running around town at 7 PM trying to avoid Lorenzo's shoe that seemed to always re-appear in the eldest male's hands, along with trying to not get anymore bruises from the broken stick in Chales' hands (it broke as the older F1 racer smacked it on his back) all while trying not to question how Arthur even knows that many british insults.
"I feel like we should tell them that it's a prank." YN uttered softly, wincing as Charles has managed yet again to hit Lando, as if it was his birthday and Lando was his pinada.
"No no," Carla giggled as she watched Lorenzo's dress shoe fly across the street "this is fun."
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#charles leclerc#f1 social media au#f1 instagram au#f1 smau#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc sister#chalres leclerc x sister reader#leclerc reader#lando norris x reader#lando norris x leclerc reader#arthur leclerc x sister reader#older brother arthur#older brother leclerc#older brother charles#older brother lorenzo#lorenzo leclerc x sister reader#lorenzo leclerc#charles leclerc x sister!reader#leclerc!reader#lando norris x leclerc!reader
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breakup songs
tags: fluff! (I promise), established relationship, taylor swift songs
"cause i was there when you said forever and always...you didn't mean it baby," you sang passionately with the car's radio. "i don't think-"
the music stopped suddenly. "i don't like this song," sae itoshi grumbled. "pick something else."
you frowned, turning in your seat to face your long term boyfriend. like a good driver, he kept his eyes on the road, expression passive.
"but i like it," you huffed. "and you said i get aux privileges for the next week."
bright teal eyes flicked over you for a moment. "no."
your jaw dropped. "sae! at least tell me why."
"just pick a new song, y/n." his fingers tapped a steady rhythm on the steering wheel. "or i'll do it for you."
pouting, you opened your spotify. "stupid football players and their stupid egos. so used to getting everything they want," you mumbled.
sae ignored your complaints.
"you better like this one."
for the nth time that day, taylor swift's oh so familiar voices leaked through from the high quality speakers all around the car:
"once upon a time, a few mistakes ago-"
sae's hand jumped up to hit the power button. "we're going in silence."
you sputtered nonsensically. "it's another hour until our destination! what's wrong with my music?"
he opened his mouth and closed it. as you fired at him, sae itoshi shrugged silently.
you leaned back into the leather seats, crossing your arms. you couldn't understand why sae was being so shifty. it's not like he had ever minded your music choices before.
in fact, the pro football player had always let you belt out any song you wished, even joining in with enough pleading. it was only in the past week or so that he'd been more annoyed.
frowning, you chewed on your lip nervously. this wasn't a good sign, was it? maybe sae had finally gotten sick of you- found someone better.
you saw him glance at you again. avoiding any eye contact, you turned your gaze toward your hands.
god, when was the last time you had gotten your nails done? your previous polish - a reddish color that matched sae's hair - was chipping from all sides already. you almost frantically picked at the peeling paint.
"y/n," sae's voice was steady. "leave your nails alone."
you jumped, head snapping towards him. "huh?"
he raised one eyebrow, pointedly staring at your hands.
you reddened. "it's not a big deal- keep your eyes on the road. pretend i'm not here or something."
with a narrowing of his eyes, sae turned back to the road.
it was another three miles before you heard him sigh.
"they're breakup songs," sae muttered quietly.
"what?"
the light in front of them flashed red. with another sigh, sae turned his upper body toward you.
"your music. they're always breakup songs now. that's why i don't like them."
you gaped at him, feeling way too much like a goldfish. "what?"
he stared at you. anyone would have assumed he was as indifferent as ever, but you could see that hint of red climbing up his neck.
sae itoshi was embarrassed.
"you're kidding!" you blurted, grinning like a maniac.
he immediately turned his attention back towards the road, but even he couldn't hide the twitch of his lips.
"you're sad because i sing breakup songs?" you managed out past your laughs. "sae, that's so cute!"
"and now i take it all back," he mumbled.
you leaned towards him suddenly, landing a kiss right onto his cheek. sae cursed, car swerving slightly.
"y/n, what-"
"i love you," you said breathlessly, effectively shutting him up. "and i would never break up with you, no matter what taylor swift says."
he snorted. when he replied, his voice was soft all the same. "i love you too."
"...can i have my music back now?"
sae groaned, but there were no complaints as you eagerly tapped through your phone once again.
"we can leave the christmas lights up till january..."
reblogs & feedback appreciated!!
#blue lock#itoshi sae x reader#sae itoshi x reader#blue lock x reader#blue lock fluff#this is so self indulgent tbh#my way of coping with Taylor breakup#hydrobunny
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Steddie Upside-down AU Part 23
Part 1 Part 22
Plans are made around Eddie. They talk about traps, and blood, and trips to the army surplus store. But Eddie’s not there: he’s in his trailer, curled up on his single bed with Steve, trading truths like the world is ending. He wants Steve. He wants Uncle Wayne.
He stands from the table, voices cease around him as all eyes look up. “I’m going to get Wayne.” He looks around the table. Will still looks too trusting, and Jonathan and the red-head look uncaring, but Nancy is biting her lip like she’s got something to say.. “What, Wheeler?” he asks, combative. “What the hell is your problem now?”
Her lips purse, and she crosses her arm atop the table primly. So in control. So dainty and pointed, and clean. Eddie wants to strangle her. “I’m not sure if we should bring any more people into this”
Eddie has to take a few deep breaths. “As the reigning authority on all things that crawl out of our new hell creature feature, you need me,” he says. “And I’m going to get my Uncle Wayne.”
Nancy’s nose scrunches, mouth snarling even as she keeps her lips shut. The red-head sighs, standing as well. “He’s not going to budge, let’s just go.”
Eddie wants to leap over this table and kiss her straight on the lips. Jonathan and Will stand as well. Nancy stays seated for a few moments, glaring at her friend before standing with a huff. “We can’t waste this much time,” she says, striding toward the door, expecting everyone to follow. “We should split up.”
“Said every person in a horror movie before they get brutally murdered,” Eddie mutters. The redhead snorts. No one else notices he talked at all.
“I can go to the army surplus,” Jonathan says.
“I’ll go with you,” Nancy replies.
“Well, you’ll have to drop us off at my house because I don’t have my car.,” the redhead says.
They all pile back into Jonathan’s car, taking their same seats. It’s a matter of minutes before they’re pulling onto a suburban street and stopping in front of a suburban house and with a suburban car parked in the driveway. The redheaded’s house, presumably, by the way she slides out of the car.
Eddie turns to Will before he leaves. “Will?” he asks.
Will looks between him and Jonathan in the driver’s seat, making eye contact with his brother in the rearview mirror. Something must pass between them because Will turns to him and says, “I’m going to stay with them.”
It comes out like it hurts. Eddie feels it, too – the way there’s a string tying them together, and each step away from one another pulls it taught. The way the one connecting him to Steve lies flat and dead on the pavement. He doesn’t want to let Will Byers out of his sight. “Okay,” he says, dawdling until the redhead honks impatiently.
He gets out of the backseat of one car and slides into the passenger seat of another. It’s clean and new. Matches the house and the girl and the life, he bets, before monsters crawled into it.
“You live at the trailer park, right?” she asks, turning the key in the ignition and backing out of the driveway.
“Yeah,” he says.
The car’s quiet. She doesn’t turn on the radio. Neither does Eddie.
The girl’s voice breaks it like a shot. “Why are you so focused on Steve Harrington?” She says his name like a curse. He wants to blame her, but he remembers that little kerfuffle in the Harrington backyard before all of this had started.
Responses run through his mind, unsaid. Things like, he saved my life, or, he looked so scared when that thing broke down his bedroom door, or, he told me things in the quiet of my bedroom that I can’t stop hearing, or, I think he’d rather be dead than alone.
He doesn’t say any of that. It’s too much for this nameless girl who wasn’t there with them when it counted. “He’s not what you think,” he says, not looking over at her to see how the words land.
She’s quiet for a minute, Eddie sits in it. She doesn’t respond until they’re pulling into the entrance to the trailer park. “Coming from you, that might actually mean something,” she says, quiet, like it’s a secret. “Now, which one’s yours?”
He directs her, a right and then a left. Wayne’s truck is in the driveway.
She parks parallel to their small plot, pristine and practiced, probably in driver’s ed. Eddie stares up at his own home, heart beating like a demogorgon is waiting for him inside.
“Four days?” Eddie asks.
A sigh. “Yeah.” She doesn’t reach out, doesn’t comfort him. He’s glad. “Are you going to be in trouble?”
Eddie laughs – it’s all air. “This is the longest I’ve stayed away since I ran away at thirteen.” Wayne’s probably sitting in his recliner right now, a game on, and a bear slowly warming in his palm. “He’ll be scared shitless.”
Eddie gets out of the car and approaches the front door, the girl a step behind. He gets the insane urge to knock. Like four days in a hell made this place alien to him. Like this is no longer his home. Ho opens the door.
He forgot what it smelled like; musty, yeah, but like Wayne’s laundry detergent, and coffee brewed too strong. Like home. There’s staticy cheering coming from the small, piece of shit television in the living room. Wayne’s sitting in his chair, looking at him like a ghost had just walked through his front door.
He looks tired, ragged in a way that’s more than a couple doubles at the plant. The chair’s not reclined. There’s no beer.
“Wayne?” he says.
Like that’s the kick in the ass he needed, Wayne jumps up, striding over to pull him into a tight hug, palm clasped to Eddie’s neck, bringing him down until his forehead is resting on Wayne’s shoulder.
“You’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do, boy,” he says, gruff.
Eddie laughs straight from his lungs. “I missed you,” Eddie says, quiet enough for his ears alone.
The redhead clears her throat from where she’s dawdling at the front door. Wayne pulls away, keeping his hands on his shoulders and holding him at arm’s length like he might disappear if Wayne doesn’t keep two hands on his person. “Who’s your friend, son?” he asks, reprimanding for the lack of manners.
“Oh, uh, Uncle Wayne this is–” he stops talking entirely, looking at the girl with wide eyes as he suddenly realizes he doesn’t know her name.
She rolls her eyes. “Barbara Holland, sir,” she says, reaching out a hand for Wayne to shake. Wayne does, tightening his other hand on Eddie’s shoulder in the process.
Eyes shifting between the two, Wayne asks, “You got something to tell me?”
Apparently that’s all it takes to break him. He’s crying again. Hard and ugly, snot immediately clogging his sinuses. “So, much Uncle Wayne,” he says around his tears. It comes out like he’s choking. “I have so much to tell you.”
“Alright, alright,” Wayne says, gruff, even as he leads Eddie to the couch, welcoming Barbara to make herself at home with a wave of her hand. “How ‘bout you start with taking some breaths, huh?”
It takes time they don’t have to spare for Eddie to regulate his breathing like Wayne taught him, and by the time he’s calmed, he feels like a dishrag, wrung out and used. Barbara’s sitting at the kitchen table, analyzing her nails so critically that he can almost pretend she wasn’t here for his breakdown at all.
“Now, tell me,” Wayne says, like he always does. The same gravity over a scraped knee or a failed test as coming out as queer or moving states to live with Wayne permanently. It’s all important.
“I went to hell, Wayne,” he says, unable to meet his eyes. Maybe this is the thing that’ll finally stretch his Uncle’s credulity past recognition. “There was this thing, and it dragged me to hell.”
“You Catholic now, boy?” Wayne asks.
Eddie sputters, indignation and laughter mixing, and when he looks up at Wayne, he looks just the same. Just like his Uncle who would follow him to hell if he asked, who would believe him if he said the detention wasn’t his fault. Every time, no questions.
“Maybe not hell,” he says, rolling his eyes. “But it was somewhere else, and I left Steve there.”
“We left Steve there,” Barbara said, as if she’d been on the other side at all.
Wayne looks between the pair, brow furrowed. It’s a small town. This won’t take him long. “...Steve Harrington?” he asks, incredulous.
“He saved my life,” Eddie says, knowing nothing will convince his uncle quicker.
Wayne looks at him the way he always does, intense and searching, but trusting. On his side, no matter what. “You got a plan?”
“Yes,” Eddie says just as Barbara says, “a stupid one.”
“Well, I ‘spose you’ll be needing this old man’s help.” He leans over and pulls his shotgun out from behind his recliner, laying it across his knees. “Let’s go save your guardian angel.”
Part 24
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King of my heart | MS47 | part. 04
a/n: King of My Heart was supposed to be mainly a "normal" series, not much Social Media content, and though I like doing those chapters they limit my imagination at some point. So I decided to mix it, I'm going to alternate chapters, and we are gonna have the best of both worlds (or so I hope), seeing people react to Y/n and Mick's relationship but also having a privileged seat to watch their interactions and feelings unfold. This chapter is when their first interaction happened, a bit before the first chapter of the series. I hope you guys like it <3 let me know your thoughts and opinions.
Pairing: hamilton!reader (she/her) x mick schumacher
Warnings: curse words, fluff, not proofread etc etc. Minors DNI!
word count: 2.3k
part 03 | series masterlist | part 05
Summary: Mick Schumacher rode a lousy wave for quite some time, so when the sky gets cleaner and the sun brighter he just knows something terrible may be in store for him. Whereas y/n was just so magnetic, and the possibilities of life with her seemed better than anything his mind could ever create, that's why, for the first time in forever, he throws cautious carelessly through the window, hoping to get to the finish line before it catches up on him.
When Mick saw Y/n for the first time, he was curious and speechless, both things that are involved in the process of blooming love. He had no idea at the time, though in his head, maybe he was just excited to be in a new environment, a place that would embrace him, teach him, and accept him for who he was, not for his father's legacy, or an expectation based on a remote reality.
When she entered the room, he knew people kept talking, working, and breathing, yet he had no idea how because for him, it was different, it was the first time he saw her, and she was suddenly the center of his attention. Big brown eyes stared around everything, nut-brown hair around her head like a halo, full lips, a round nose, and brown skin. Y/n was breathtaking, and he only noticed he was holding his when a friend touched his shoulder. Mick directed his gaze to Lewis for a split second, and he felt lucky he, too, was looking at her. Otherwise, the Mercedes driver would likely see the weird way in which his friend seemed lost. And, of course, his coworker was looking at her too. Who would not want to look at her? They had to be crazy not to. If given the opportunity, Mick would stare at that woman the whole day, and he did not even know her name. So, yes, in his mind, it could only be explained as a curiosity. Although he comprehended very well what kind of curiosity it was and that, he had never really felt that, quite the opposite, he was usually doing his own thing and minding his business, and new people were welcome. And he was friendly, but he was not the type of person to seek someone’s attention or friendship, at least not so fast, not so intently. Y/n was not only a new person, but she was the bearer of new and strange feelings in the pit of Mick’s stomach.
“Oh, she’s so sly, you see. She comes and goes around without people noticing. It scares me sometimes,” Hamilton spoke, smiling in her direction. Mick thought: how could she come and go unnoticed? The second the door opened, he could not take his eyes off her.
“It’s a matter of practice,” she replied with a small grin. The way her lips folded looked almost artistic, like the final brushstroke in a work of art, when everything seems to fit together to create the final result, the bigger picture, “Now, how’s my favorite brother doing?”
Mick did not even notice the way he finally took a breath of fresh air. She was not his friend’s girlfriend, although Mick did not know if her being his sister would make things any easier.
“I’m your only brother Y/n,” Lewis reminded, and she huffed as if he was pointing out something unnecessary.
“You can be my only and favorite brother, both things at the same time. Stop being so pokey,” she joked.
“Mick, this is Y/n, my baby sister,” he turned to Mick, who was able to recompose in seconds. He was a driver after all, he had to be fast and have good reflexes, “Y/n, this is Mick, my friend and work colleague.”
“Nice to meet you, Mick” She waved and made her grin wider, in fact, when their eyes met, her lips opened in a full big smile. It felt like watching a flower blossom, and it also felt like a gesture only for him.
“Likewise, Y/n.”
“I’ve heard you’re new around Mercedes. Welcome to the family.”
“Feels like it indeed,” he grinned, “A family, I mean.”
“It’s good to hear that. God knows this whole thing can be tough. You don’t need to have people making it worse,” she pointed, and that was all it took for Mick to know that Y/n was more than talkative, and honest. He was sure she would tell him the truth about whatever he asked, her genuine opinion, no holding backs.
Someone seemed to call Lewis, and he said something neither Y/n nor Mick could hear properly and then left. Her brown eyes were kept glued right into his ocean ones, almost daring him to deflect. He felt exposed to her, but in a good way, because for some reason, he wanted her to be capable of reading his thought through his eyes, “You’re, uh- it’s your first time in the paddock? I never saw you around before.”
She offers him a small smile, looks at someone in the back, waves, and then turns her attention to his face again, “Nah, I’m here all the time, just away from the cameras and most of the eyes.”
“Can I ask you why?”
She shrugged, “I mean, of course you can. Am I gonna answer, though? That’s a different question,” Y/n joked, and Mick could only smile brighter and roll his eyes.
“I- I’m just curious,” he seems to breathe for a second when their eyes lock again, “about you,” he finishes.
“Yeah, me too,” it’s a whisper like she is telling it to herself, acknowledging that she, too, wants to know every little detail about him. Her eyes divert to an engineer that passes them, her hands go up like the last time, and she gives a gentle wave. “I like to be myself. I mean, I like to be Y/n Y/l/n. I hope you don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore my brother and our family, but in some circumstances, your name can be a blessing and a curse” Y/n’s eyes searched for his again. She was waiting for the short nod he gave. A confirmation he understood the situation too, a way of demonstrating that she could keep going because he knew there was more to come. “I didn't want people to pin my success on my brother’s name, to say I had it easier just because he made it. The media loves to do that with women, saying they only made it because of a man or trying to pin hard work and talent as luck.”
He nodded, “I get it. I used to do that when I was a bit younger, to use a different surname so people would not act differently or expect more than one hundred percent of me. It’s tiring. I can sympathize.”
“A Schumacher, huh?” Y/n tatters before adding, “My brother told me a bit of what went on. For the record, it’s their loss. I’m sorry you had to go through such heartless people, but I’m glad they let you go so you can be here now,” so we could meet, so I could feel like drowning in your blue eyes, so that my body would feel lighter, she thought.
“I’m happy to be here too. I don’t think I would change a thing,” Y/n watches as the tip of his tongue goes out to wet his pink, plush lips, the way his eyes dart quickly around her whole face.
“It gives you experience at the end of the day,” she is quick to point out, feeling a tad nervous.
Schumacher nods, and before he can ask one more question, to hear her quirk remarks one more time, someone shows up, calling him to look at something new they did in the car.
“See you around, Mick,” she gives him that same half smile from a work of art before she touches his arm when passing. He could swear he shivered with the feeling of her skin against his.
Y/n goes around, greeting some of the staff she is friends with before finally reaching Toto. He gives her a pointing look, and she rolls her eyes. The older man has always been really supportive of Y/n as well, they would always talk when she came to the paddock, and their conversations would go around about anything and everything. Yn always admired Toto’s leadership skills, and she was open about how she thought his kind of work not only asked you for the technical side but, most importantly, the human side. Toto was able to captivate Lewis, and he did just the same with Y/n. He was also one of the people who made sure her privacy and image were safe around the Mercedes garage. People respected him, so if Toto Wolff says, ‘nobody talks about the fact that Lewis has a sister and she’s here a lot’ that is precisely what happens: nobody would talk, or most of them would not. Y/n was aware her scheme of keeping this under wraps was collective work, and she was happy to be in a place where people liked her brother so much they chose to protect her too.
“You took forever to show up this year. What happened?” he asked, taking off his headphones.
“A lot is going on with work, I’m launching a new collection soon, and you know I like to be in every step of the process, right?”
“Literally,” he joked, pointing to her new shoes, which he knew were most likely from said new collection. Y/n would always use them as a test, making sure they were comfortable and safe for the customers.
She jokingly rolled her eyes before adding, “Yeah, exactly, but doing this is quite difficult sometimes, especially when you want to be attentive to the human side of those who work with you.”
“You’re doing a great job, and I’m proud of how far you’ve come since the first time you appeared here, a small kid determined to do her own name,” he held her chin high, smiling. “Let me know when this new collection drops. I’m sure Susie would love to get one of every shape and color.”
Her smile grew wider, she loved Susie Wolff, and she loved their love. They were very private, but Y/n has been around for long enough to know how big and strong their love is, and she enjoys watching it from the sidelines whenever they interact.
“I will be sure to send some exclusives for her.”
Toto gave her one of his side smiles and nodded before having to leave to attend to some problem, so Y/n made her rounds around, asking questions, interacting, and making sure to annoy her older brother every once in a while. She took some time aside and sat with some of the media crew to answer her work e-mails while they typed away creating content. It was refreshing to be in the Mercedes garage. The chaos worked perfectly well, and she always felt energized.
When work was done and, it was time to leave, Y/n bid her goodbyes and did a small search with her eyes for a blond mop of hair, which did not go unnoticed by her brother.
“He had to leave a bit earlier,” Lewis explained.
“What?” she asked, securing her laptop case and bag in one arm and starting her walk to the garage. Lewis knew it was her way of changing the subject, to shift the attention.
“You’re my sister,”
“It’s been twenty-one years. You would think this is an established fact by now,” Y/n was a fan of using humor as a coping mechanism too.
“Mick is a driver,” he adds.
“Yeah, he’s like your teammate too now, right?”
“He’s also my friend,” Lewis points.
“That’s good. He seems like a good friend to have around,” her curls bounce as she reaches his car and opens the back door to load her things there.
“You’re deflecting, Y/n.”
“And you are not stating your points with clarity, Lewis,” she let go of the door, shutting it in the sequence and opening the passenger one.
“I saw your interaction, saw your interest perhaps, you’re not aware of it, or you’re just trying to brush it off and lie to yourself, but I’m doing my job as the older brother and warning you: by dating someone famous you may have to give up some things, such as your privacy,” now they’re sitting inside the car, he’s facing her, and she’s looking ahead, a woof of air leaves her lips before she finally looks at her brother. “You know how the media is, and if they even sniff a new romance between you, a Hamilton, and Mick, a Schumacher, they won’t go easy. They will want all the details, and I trust the Mercedes people, but we don’t know everyone. There are new people always showing up. They can let it slip about you without intentions, share information without noticing.”
She opens her mouth to answer, but unlike the usual days, she doesn’t have anything ready to say.
“And don’t forget the fact that he is my coworker, Y/n. If anything goes down the wrong path, you will either have to face him daily or lose my races. You will have to face your heartbreak every day. Do you remember Jonathan from high school? How you missed a week of classes when that fucker dumped you?! And then you had to finish the year there anyways, had to sit in the same class as him.”
“And I changed schools by the end of the semester,” she adds with a small nod. She understands his point, and she even agrees to some extent. However, she wanted to add that it was a different context, that Anthony was a douche, he never really liked her, and nobody in that school really did, this being the reason she decided to leave. She was a lot of things but not a coward, though she knew that was not what her brother was saying. She felt like reminding herself.
“I’m just trying to take care of you. I would hate to watch you suffer,” his voice is soft, and so are his eyes and hands when they reach through the center console to lace their fingers.
There’s a small smile of appreciation on her lips, “I love you, and I love how careful you are with me, but I’m not a kid anymore” She tightens her grip on his hand, and they share an attentive and agreeing look for some seconds when she adds, “And Mick is not Jonathan.”
“That’s what scares me.”
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#king of my heart ms47#f1 imagine#mick schumacher imagine#hamilton!reader#black!reader#mick schumacher x reader#black!reader x f1#mick schumacher x black!reader#famous!reader#ms47
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the band-aid to my wounds
Older!Eddie Munson x naive!Fem reader - eventual twins Steve Harrington x reader x Kurt Kunckle series| pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 … TBC
Summary: After stumbling into an old barn after being stranded by your freshly new ex boyfriend, you wake up strangely in a room..that isn't yours..
warnings: talks of cheating, abuse, angst, slight stockholm syndrome at a glance, anxiety, childhood trauma, parent problems; daddy issues, eventual smut, cursing, drinking, smoking, perviness, slight dub-con, miscommunications, blood mention
word count: idk? 1k?
June 12th, 1988 the roads were closed off.
I have no idea why im still together with this asshole, why am i so stupid? oh because id do anything for people to love and not leave me. Looking at him now..hands beating the steering wheel, veins popping through his temples..not to mention his breath. Ashton my oh so loving, narcissist, no good boyfriend. We've been together for 6 years, basically high school sweethearts. Went from flirty glaces, to lab partners, to collage students with an alcohol addiction. Mainly his addiction...he got me started on it.
Ashton basically took me in with his fatherly like protectiveness when we first got together. He was walking me to my front door after a bowling date he asked me out to my sophomore year, of course i said yes.; until the front door opened. Uh oh, dads home; Bill. The moment the door opened i watched my father tackle Ashton to the ground without so much as a reason screaming words like "get off my property, boys like you should be dead in a gutter, ill kill you"...
Lets just say that date night was a bit too eventful for my liking.
My dad always had a problem with Ashton because he went to highschool with his father. Ashtons dad was a bully back in the day, made my dads life a living hell.. took everything away from him. the girl, the looks, the job..
Dave, Ashtons father, was caught making out with Shannon, my dads ex lover but also first love. Dave knew he had the upper hand when it came to getting the things he wanted. Hell, Shannon seduced him into it. Shannon was only with my dad for the money. Got knocked up but gave him the baby and ran away to be with his dad. As you can see I am that baby now today.
I made a promise to Ashton after sneaking him to my bedroom window that same night cleaning his wounds; that it was me and him against the world. He knew about me and my parents relationship. How my step-mother only has good things to say about me in a room full of people, but how she degrades me behind closed doors. How my dads drinking problem gave him alcohol poisoning, twice' and about his anger problems. You'd think being in a household that is always loud would help you shape up to loud sounds in the future. Boy was that theory proven wrong.
anytime someone yells or raises their tone, you're immediately in fight or flight response. tense..anxious. You hate going to basketball games just for that reason. Its uncomfortable.. and he knew that, but apparently in this moment, he didn't give a fuck-
"Did you hear me??" Ashton says impatiently. "No im sorry, i cant hear when you mumble.." you reply
you also hated when people uttered things under their breath.
dad does that shit.
"Don't be smart with me y/n, ill leave you right here,right now in the middle of the fucking road
"Yeah whatever Ashton, just stop talking to me and drive" feeling the breaks pull forward and in a flash he was out of the drivers seat, and already pulling you out of the passenger-
"WHAT THE FUCK" i yell- what the fuck are you doing Ashton?”
“Shut up!” he smacks me. Your eyes widen in more shock than fear over anything. “Did you j-just hit me?” i ask with a scratched voice--
“I told you more than once not to back talk me didnt i?”
“i didn’t.. it was once and i stopped ashton”-
-“You’ve done it all goddamn night, accusing me of cheating, clinging onto me when i ran into Tommy, i told you to give me some fucking space --i interrupt him.
“YOU did cheat on me you asshole!! That bitch was fucking bragging about it in the bathroom”—
“Do you really think after what 4 years-“6 actually“ i say pissing him off further. he looks at you angrily
He sighs. “Do you really think after years of being together, i would do that to you?” he say looking down at the ground sadly; making you instatly regret your words
“..no-no of course not i just thou”-
-“You thought wrong! he snaps-I would never do that to you baby..y/n?” he says letting go of the grip on my arms, caressing my cheek-“..I know you get a little confused sometimes, its okay come here” he says pulling you into a deep hug
“..im sorry ash”-
“shh” he coos.
“I really thought—what the fuck is that?” you shove him away
“Y-you piece of shit!!” you pull around back collar piece of his shirt up to his face; showing him the peach colored lipstick stain
“Are you fucking serious Ashton?” his eyes widen and stomach drops when he sees the prominent evidence of his past events—
“B-baby look-“
“No! fuck you were done!”
He grabs me closer, “No we fucking arent- ive gave you everything! he starts shouting making you flinch
P-please stop yelling at me! you plea tears rolling down your face
“Just—here” he opens the car door “just get back in and ill explain on the way”—
“No.” you shove past him running and crying
“Y/N come back here!. its too dark—
“ i dont care leave me alone!”
“Y/n theres crazy people out here..!”
you stop in your tracks, turning back to say- “You’re the crazy person!”
he laughs. “Oh im crazy? Ill show you fuckin crazy”—he says marching over to the drivers side of the car starting it back up—mumbling ill show you a fucking crazy person babe—and he spees off
you cant believe he actually just left you.. standing here.
“ASSHOLE!” you shout regulardess if hes still there or not, turning back around to walk down the cold empty road
are you fuckig kidding me?
wow he fooled me
how didnt i see this before
did he love me?
he says he does
then why did he leave me..
fucking jerk!!
The long 7 mile walk with a head full of shitty thoughts walk you to a sun burnt orange barn.
you're exhausted. your hearts broken. your feet hurt. its too dark to keep walking
"I mean i could crash here right?" you say already walking towards the musky building
hay bells, chickens, tools. looks already owned
you dont care you just need a place to rest you head for a bit.
stinks in here. muttering to yourself, opening and shutting the barn door behind you.
perfect you say spotting an old rocking chair..and yard sale signs?
does somebody live here?
you're too exhausted to think any more tonight
this'll do. taking your jacket off to use as a prop pillow, climbing into the chair almost immediately drifting off.
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whats that smell? smells like bacon?
bacon? your eyes are still shut but you can sense a different environment around you. Fluttering your eyes open.. a clock? pictures? what?-jumping up at the sound of a shoe
"WHO ARE YOU?" your already in flight or fight mode
"Whoa whoa its okay, im the owner of the barn i found you in”.
is he lying?
"YOU'RE LYING!" you look around in a panic
"Sweetheart if i was lying, how come i specifically found you in my rocking chair, you must of been tired, i got my buddy who also runs the farm to scoop you up and bring you to our guest bedroom, couldn't just leave a woman out in the open like that.. especially at night"
your stomach knots when he calls you sweetheart.
okay maybe he harmless, just very kindly harmless?
"Here" he throws his arm out, "I'm Eddie, Eddie Munson."
- - is this interesting so far? lmk- -
reblogs appreciated:>
#older!eddie x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#steve harrington x reader#kurt kunkle x reader#stockholm syndrome#daddy!eddie munson#daddy issues#naive reader#eddie munson x steve harrington#steddie x reader#kurtsworld96#joseph quinn#joe keery#perv!eddie munson#dilf!eddie munson#perv!steve harrington#tw abandonment
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FLASHBACK
masterlist
Part 1
1993
before season 1
John Winchester drove the Impala 67 through the highway on his way to Louisiana. The only thing that could be heard in the car was the familiar humming of the engine and the rock music playing on the speakers. 10 years later after the death of his wife with another kid. A result from one of his many hook-ups. Never had he expected it would come back at him and slap him across the face like this had. The mother of the child was dead. Killed by an overdose so the officer that had called him had said. Jhon cursed the moment he had left the qoman his phone number with all his soul. Now he wouldn't have to be dealing with a 2 year old kid and gotten her into the life he led. Hunting was no way to raise a little girl. But if he had been able to raise his two sons he would be able to raise the girl. At least he hoped so.
Dean glanced at his father, noticing the tight grip he had on the car wherl, the way his expression was hard and how his body was tense. The 14 year old new to stay out of his way for now, he had no idea where they were going, a hunt he suspected, but somehow his father's actitude had him restless. Something nagged in the back of his mind that this wasn't a normal hunt. Maybe this wasn't a hunt at all. He caught his younger brothers eye through the rear view mirror and new he was feeling the same way.
It didn't take Ling for them to finally reach the police department in Lafayette. Jhon turned off the engine and sat for a moment before sighting.
"Stay in the car boys"
Sam and Dean watched silently as Jhon entered the building.
"Did dad tell you why are we here?" The 10 year old asked his brother.
"No. Somehow I know this isn't a hunt" Dean answered.
It didn't take long before John exited the building again. But this time with a toddler holding his hand and a pink bag over his shoulder.
Dean and Sam watched stunned "what the h-"
John opened the back door for the little girl to climb in next to Sam tossing the bag next to her.
"Yn this are your older brothers Sam and Dean" John pointed at each boy correspondingly each boy watched surprised for a moment.
Yn gave them a shy smile then looked down at her lap where she was holding a worn teddy bear.
Seeing that no words were going to be said, John closed the back door and climbed back into the driver's seat. The boys were both stunned. They kept glanding to the little girl trying to decide what was going on. But this was it. They had a sister. A little sister. They couldent get that on their head yet.
"Yn are you hungry? We are stopping in a dinner closse by" Jhon broke the silence looking back at the girl.
Yn just nodded without lifting her face.
It took only a few minutes before they reached it the car filled with an uncomfortable silence.
Once he had parked the car Jhon turned to Dean. "Take care of her Dean" it would have sounded like a father telling his son to take care of his little sister if he had used a tender fathery voice, but instead his voice came as a command.
"Yes sir" came the immediate response. What was to be expected by a boy who had been drilled since a child to be a soldier, to obey commands and hot overthinking it.
With a short nod Jhon exited the car and walked inside the dinner.
Sam turned to his new found sister "come on" he extended his hand for her to take and she shyly did. He opened the car door and helped her out, the ten year old gave her a smile "you have a nice bear, whats its name?"
Craddling the teddy close to her she spoke for the first time "Mr. Cottons"
"Cool name. Im Dean, this is my little brother Sammy. He's 10 and Im 14" dean walked up to them presenting himself and sam again.
Looking up at him the young girl gave a small smile "Im Yn. Im 2" she held up two fingers.
"Really? I would have though you'd be older" sam commented getting a smile out of Yn. Kids loved being called older than what they really were.
"Do you like hamburgers booger?" Dean asked niknaming her.
Yn smille turned into a full grin showing dimpled cheeks her eyes lighting up "yes!"
Dean couldent help the smile that came into his face "then come on" he reached out to take her hand and Yn willingly let him holding Mr. Cottons tigtly in the other "maybe dad will even let us buy pie. Do you like pie?"
"I love love love pie!" The little girl said with enthusiasm making the boys smile.
Maybe having a little sister wouldent be so bad. Maybe it would be the one normal thing that they would have in their messed up lives.
Walking into the dinner little sister in hand and younger brother walking beside them. Dean swore in that moment that he would do anything to keep Yn being a little girl as long as he could. No matter what his dad said.
if any of you have any ideas I am all ears <333
Tag list
@dewdropsposts
#supernatural#dean winchester#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester smut#sam winchester x you#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester smut#supernatural family#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural x little sister reader#supernatural x sister reader#anti wincest#the winchester brothers#sam winchester#winchester bros#winchester brothers#sam winchester x sister!reader#destiel#castiel#claire novak#spn art#deancas#castiel x reader#castiel novak#castiel x dean#dean x y/n#dean x castiel#sam and dean#rowena
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Standard Operating Procedures 1.03 (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Eddie is no stranger to disappointment, but it still stings, regardless.
Previous Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.02 (Like...it immediately precedes 1.03)
Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual pining and slow burn (yes still, always). Chekhov's...Guitar(?), Sad Boy Eddie, Disappointment, Kind of an argument, Disillusioned Eddie, Hurt/Comfort, fluff at the end as per usual.
Note: I am admittedly just making some shit up in this chapter strictly because I don't know how certain things were in the 80s and have already done my fair share of research and math for this fic. I'm a tired girl. Suspend your sense of disbelief. I hope it's seamless regardless.
Also, I just want to say, thank you for all the love this little series has gotten so far. Everyone has been so kind. If you haven't gotten some already, here's some soft internet magic to help you find your own Eddie Munson or mall romance or whatever it is you're looking for. *perpetual magical forehead smooch*
You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other random Eddie Headcanons.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
---
"M'home!" Eddie announced as he bounded into the trailer. "Isn't it time to make the donuts, old man? Didn't expect you to still be here."
"Eh, Marty's got some appointment tomorrow, so I traded him for 2nd shift," Wayne sighed, sinking further into his arm chair. "Didn't get home too long before you and I don't plan to leave this chair for a good few hours."
"Well, I'll make myself scarce so you can enjoy Johnny Carson in peace," Eddie chuckled, knowing his uncle didn't get much of a chance to indulge in his favorite programs with his work schedule.
"Did ya' have a good session tonight?"
"No session. We went out to celebrate Gareth getting his drivers license."
"S'that why you're so giddy?" Wayne teased good-naturedly.
Eddie thought about it for a second as he kicked off his sneakers, realizing that he had been in a pretty good mood tonight. It had been a fun night out with the guys. And of course, you were there.
It made him happy that you got along with his friends.
And he got to sit next to you and sneak little glances when you didn't know he was watching. And he got to hear the little hitch of your breath at the jump scares and imagine that it would do the same if he kissed your neck the way he wanted to, someday.
You had leaned in close at one point and put your head on his shoulder...only to whisper some joke about a continuity error you spotted. And then grinned when he burst out laughing, only to get confused looks from the guys and curses from the other moviegoers.
It only got better when you agreed to go out on Halloween, as much as he felt like an absolute idiot for asking you.
Who asks a girl to go Trick or Treating? What was he, in 3rd grade? On the upside, it meant you still planned to be his friend come October.
Maybe you would be more than a friend by then.
If he could just get the courage to...actually ask you out.
It wouldn't be that hard, right? He would just have to...maybe hold your hand and ask if you'd ever want...well no that wasn't right...
Fuck. He'd done it before; he'd mostly gotten no's but...
"Y-yeah," Eddie finally responded, realizing his uncle was waiting for an answer. "Zombie movie. You know I like those. Gareth was practically pissing his pants."
"Well good. And you tell that boy not to let the driving thing get to his head," Wayne coughed. "He still owes me a new mailbox after your driving lessons.
"Speaking of which, there's mail for you on the counter," Wayne waved his hand in the direction of the kitchen.
Eddie shuffled over and thumbed through the envelopes, debating whether or not to pull a Carnac the Magnificent just to get a laugh out of his uncle, only to freeze when he reached the bright blue envelope at the bottom of the stack.
ROANE COUNTY PARKS, RECREATION, & COMMUNITY SERVICES
He didn't even need a second to think before he sprinted across the trailer to shove his feet back into his sneakers, grabbed his keys, and shouted a quick "imgoingtojeffsdontwaitup" as he raced out the door.
If it was any other time, he would have called first. Or waited until the morning. But if he knew his friends--and he knew them well--they went and got Dairy Queen after the movies, and Gareth would be pulling into Jeff's sleepy little cul de sac off Maple any minute now. There was no time to waste.
This was big, for all of them. He couldn’t do this alone.
He drove with the radio off, he kept his hands at ten and two, made a full stop at every stop sign, and didn't even speed like he usually would. Not one mile over the limit. He couldn't risk Callahan catching his scent tonight. And he prayed to every god, goddess, demon, devil, deity—every pantheon—he knew that everything could just be in his favor tonight.
It's just the fair, but what if this is the next step on the road to something bigger.
Eddie started honking as soon as he could see the tail lights of the station wagon. He didn't care who he woke up or what neighbor would call the cops. He didn't even remember putting the van in park before he jumped out; it could have rolled off a cliff, he wouldn't have cared.
The other guys started screaming as he waved the envelope at them.
"This is it, this is it. Did you open it yet?
"A real show, guys."
"Do we need new equipment? Shit, do we need eyeliner?"
"Alright guys calm down," Eddie grinned. "We have to open the envelope first."
They huddled together in the middle of the cul de sac, hovering over the envelope and Eddie held his breath for a moment. This would be the moment...
The moment that they could tell everyone they really started on the road to making it big.
The moment they got their first real set, their first big crowd.
Maybe there would be some talent scout at the fair. They showed up at these sorts of things right?
He might not even need to go back to Hawkins High come September.
Or even if he did…to know that he might be a real rockstar some day...He could ignore all of the shit from the kids and the teachers. It wouldn't need to be another year of ridicule and humiliation.
He ripped through the thin blue paper and pulled out the folded letter within, dropping the envelope immediately in favor of clutching it with both hands as he read.
His hands started to shake as he read, and it was only getting worse by the second.
He was going to vomit. Or...or pass out. Or...
Unfortunately due to the family-oriented nature of this event, the genre of music included in your proposed set list has been deemed inappropriate and we regret to inform you that your application for this year's Roane County 4th of July Festival has been denied.
Eddie was going to die. He would lay down, right here in the middle of the street, and die. They could just re-pave the street right over his corpse.
Here lies Eddie Munson.
Wannabe Rockstar.
He didn't even make it to his 20th birthday.
He finally looked up and passed the letter around, watching--painfully--as their dreams were shattered too. He gauged Jeff's reaction most of all, since he had been the one to propose the idea in the first place. But Jeff was fine; he was just looking right back at Eddie.
"You ok, man?" he asked.
"It's just a stupid fair," Eddie sniffed, ignoring the stinging of his eyes as he fought back the tears.
"Yeah," Dave nodded. "There's always next summer."
Next summer. Next year.
Another year he probably wasn't gonna graduate again. Another year stuck in this not-even-one-horse-town.
Sure, he was probably getting ahead of himself with the ideas of fame. But outright rejection? It stung. To be denied the chance to perform, to show off all of their talent, because of the set list he chose.
The guys all trusted him, he always chose songs that highlighted their strengths. Always wanted them to look and play their best. He was so proud of them, he never wanted them to fail.
But they trusted him and it let them down.
And because of that, Eddie couldn't let everything fall apart because he failed.
"They couldn't even let us pick some new songs," Eddie swallowed his pain and laughed dryly. "They don't know what they're missing out on."
It wasn't much, but it was enough to get them going.
"Hey maybe we could write some more original songs for next year?"
"I think if we practiced, I could really nail that one drum solo, hey Ed?"
"We would have totally melted some faces!"
They always held it together for him; he definitely could do it for them too.
---
“Are you sure he’s gonna like this one?”
“This is the newest model,” Eddie explained with a sigh, turning the box over to show off the list of New and Improved features on the back.
The customer was a sleepy-looking older guy in glasses and a wrinkled polo, who walked in 10 minutes before closing, whose wife apparently sent him out for their son’s birthday present: a new Walkman.
And the asshole was really dragging his feet on a decision. Eddie had all of the options they offered laid out on the display case, they'd gone over the different features several times. He almost had the sale, and then the guy realized it was the red model instead of blue. Like it even fucking mattered.
It was Sunday night too. Not like Eddie had anywhere else he needed or wanted to be.
“And if I go to Sam Goody, they’re gonna say the same thing?” He asked.
“You could go down there and ask, but I’ll bet you that it’s gonna be marked up at least 15% more.”
If he left now, the gate would get closed right behind him. The sale wasn’t worth it.
“Hmmmm, fine,” the man harrumphed and began pulling out his wallet. “And throw in a couple tapes too, I guess. I don’t know what Michael likes; whatever you think is popular. You're the expert here, not me.”
As soon as the guy had paid and was walking out of the store, Eddie pulled down the gate and grumbled under his breath "what a fuckin' dickhead, can't make a decision to save his life or even be bothered to know what his son actually wants for his birthday."
Kyle's barking laughter echoed across the store from where he was doing markdowns.
"I can definitely hear you from over here kid," he chuckled. "You've gotta chill.”
"Sorry man," Eddie sighed as he approached the registers to start the closing tasks. "I'm just...I dunno, in a bad mood I guess."
"Well, you're doing a good job, people just suck sometimes."
The first time Kyle told him what a good job he was doing, Eddie nearly confessed that he was channeling Kurt Russel in Used Cars and rolled a D20 for persuasion before each shift.
Whether or not the D20 roll actually worked, Eddie still had some of the best sales numbers on the team. They’d nearly doubled their sales goal today alone. Because despite the entire town seemingly having it in for him, no one seemed to mind that he was the one helping them find whatever it was that they needed.
"Stop thinking about it so much," Kyle laughed. "You just keep making those sales, we keep beating our numbers, and your bonus check's gonna be enough for the last payment on that Warlock you've been drooling over since you started. Doesn't that cheer you up a little?"
Eddie hummed dismissively as approached the cash wrap to start closing procedures, and glared at the stack of handmade fliers for Corroded Coffin’s Tuesday night shows at the Hideout, sitting neatly on the electronics display case next to all of the special order catalogs.
Yeah that was the dream.
A stage-worthy guitar and an actual stage and crowd to go along with it.
But it was gonna be forever to get there at the pace he was going.
When he’d gotten home on Friday night and told Wayne about the rejection letter, his uncle clapped him on the shoulder and said “good things come to those who wait.” Of course, Eddie was grateful for whatever advice his uncle gave him. He was just…tired of waiting.
And he'd have to wait even longer, because tonight it didn't even feel like they were going to be able to leave the store at all, let alone on time.
Nothing was going right--or so it seemed thanks to Eddie's mood. And it just seemed to get worse as time wore on. He couldn't get the registers to balance, he kept fucking up the combination to the safe when he went to put the deposit away, the mixtape he put into the shop radio earlier in the evening had jammed, and it took both him and Kyle combined to jimmy it out of the player.
They ran into a problem with every single closing task.
And before long, you were outside of the store waiting, when he had typically made it his habit to wait for you.
It was just...one of those things that Eddie liked to do.
He could imagine he was picking you up for a real date. Watch you as you finished up your own closing tasks, enjoy the little things you probably didn't even realize you did--bob your head along to whatever residual music was playing in the mall, fiddle with your earrings with one hand as you signed deposit slips with the other.
The way you lit up when you saw him outside of the gate--gave him a bright smile and held your fingers up to say how much longer it would be--was one of the highlights of his week, after gigs at the Hideout and crushing the guys dreams during Hellfire.
He could have really used that tonight.
Instead, you were out there waiting as Eddie continued to fuck things up. You smiled and waved as you usually did when you first arrived, leaning on the little coin-operated horse right outside the store. Thanks to his frustration, he couldn't bring himself to smile back. He glanced outside every now and again, and felt his stomach lurch whenever he saw you kicking your feet or picking your nails. Bored. Annoyed. Sick of waiting for him, probably, if the lack of an expression was anything to go by.
He debated simply telling you to leave. That your night out was canceled and you could reschedule another time.
But if you agreed...you might get pissed off for wasting your time and avoid him whenever you saw him from that point forward.
How did this happen? How was it just 48 hours ago that he was coming up with a plan to ask you out? And now he might never talk to you again?
Because he was a loser, he wasn't worth the trouble, that's wh--
"Alright Ed, let's go," Kyle clapped a hand on his shoulder and Eddie jumped.
"What?" he stared at Kyle for a second.
"What do you mean what? It's time to go," Kyle explained.
"But the checklist," Eddie frowned, mentally tallying all the tasks they hadn't gotten to. "It's not done."
"You wanna stay and clean the bathroom? Mop the floors? I can just have Paulie do it in the morning," Kyle grabbed him by the shoulder and led him to the door. "Let's fucking go. There's a whole pan of lasagna waiting for me at home, and your girlfriend is out there waiting for you. Unless you want me to take her out instead?"
Eddie fumbled over his words as Kyle pushed him outside and locked the gate.
"Try to have a good night tonight; someone's got a crab up his ass," Kyle warned you with a wink before heading towards the exit.
You pushed yourself off the play horse and approached Eddie with a frown.
"Hey if you're not up to going out tonight, we don't have to," you offered.
Here it was, the first steps of rejection.
"Yeah, no," Eddie coughed weakly. "If you don't want to go out, that's cool."
He'd heard it all before.
"God you're such a loser."
"Who would ever want to hang out with a freak like you."
"You think I'd actually be into you?"
"It's not about me, I'm asking about you," you smiled gently. "I don't know if you had a bad customer or something. That always gets me in a mood."
Eddie scratched the back of his neck for a second and fumbled over his words. You weren’t turning him away. No you had to be letting him down easily...right? That had to be it.
Eddie…he’d just been burned too many times by so-called friends at even smaller inconveniences. It was hard not to expect the same from everyone else he let into his life.
Except that really wasn’t the way you did things was it? How many times has he expected one thing from you and you'd surprised him with another?
You weren't tricking him or out to get him or waiting for him to mess up. You were accepting him as he was and offering him whatever care or friendship he needed.
"Yeah," he finally scoffed, playing along. "This...this guy who came in right before we closed. Couldn't decide what he wanted. Wasted time walking around. Real piece of shit."
"Well fuck that guy then," you frowned, then paused. "You sure you're up for going out? Even if you don't want to be out and about, we can go back to my place and...I could cook something? Wouldn't be pizza like I promised, but I pretty much subsist solely on pasta if I'm not grabbing takeout or going out with you. You can just hang out, listen to music or something, it’s not a big deal.”
It sounded like the best night ever. Getting to see your space, adding another layer of trust to your friendship, giving you shit about your cooking just like you did with his dinner choices…but…
Eddie knew you had scheduled yourself to open on the 4th so you could see Corroded Coffin’s set. Of course this had all been planned before he knew they weren’t going to play. And he knew he would have to break the news sooner rather than later.
But...just like with the guys...he didn't want to let you down. You, who had your entire life together, who he was lucky gave him the time of day. If you got too comfortable listening to music, you might be reminded and you would ask him about it, and when you found out...
So he would keep you in the dark. For now at least. And then come that night when you met him at the Fair Grounds he could just tell you there was a mix up and you could just enjoy the fair and eat carnival food until you puked instead.
"As tempting an offer as that is, you'd be missing out on your first Benny's experience," Eddie forced an enthusiastic laugh. "Uncomfortable booths, shitty atmosphere. But you haven't really lived in Hawkins unless you've had a patty melt handmade by Benny himself."
"Surely not the famous Benny."
"The one and only. I can only semi-promise he won't scratch his back with his spatula, but he will blend a piece of apple pie into your milkshake if you ask nicely. It's the Munson Special."
Your eyes sparkled before you looked down at your feet for a moment, and Eddie vibrated restlessly, nerves getting the best of him once he wasn't being observed by you. You then looked up at him with your lips twisted to control a smile and you nodded.
What a relief...
---
It was an undeniable fact that Benny's was the heart of Hawkins, and Benny himself the soul.
He was a severe-looking man at first glance--wide-shouldered with a wild beard and furrowed brows--but he always had a laugh and a story to tell. He went out of his way to learn everyone's name and make them feel welcome and would already be prepping the grill for one of his regular's orders as soon as he saw their car pull into the parking lot.
And Eddie, by the grace of his mother's previous employment at the diner, was one of Benny's favorites. He told you as much and warned you of his "celebrity status" on the drive there.
"He's gonna be very loud, but he's really funny. And he might grill you about what sports teams you like, so he might give you some shit if you don't have one. Actually, are you a big sports fan? Oh, and he might grab me by the collar and shake me around a little, but it's ok...that's just his thing. He's been doing it since I was a kid after the one time I ate all the mints in the jar by the register."
"Eddie, don't worry it'll be ok," you laughed and shifted in the passenger's seat to get a better glimpse of him. "Oh my god, are you blushing?"
"What, no," he scoffed.
Yes, he most definitely was. And he could feel himself get hotter as you continued to watch him.
"It's ok, family can be embarrassing sometimes," you shrugged. "At least it's just funny embarrassing and not painful embarrassing."
Eddie swallowed nervously and gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.
Yeah this would be like meeting someone from his family, wouldn't it.
He was so caught up in his nerves and self-pity, he really hadn't thought of it that way.
"Unless Benny has some baby pictures of you on the wall something," you continued with a conspiratorial grin.
Fortunately, no baby pictures; unfortunately there was a picture on the wall near the old jukebox of a 9-year old Eddie with Benny and Rick, standing next to some massive fish they caught out on Lover's Lake. Whether to emphasize how big the fish was or how short Eddie was, he couldn't recall. All he knew was that he was missing a few baby teeth and his knees were all scabby from one fantastical adventure in the woods or another.
But you didn't need to know about that.
The diner was, thankfully, busy by the time you guys arrived, so you were spared Benny's theatrics short of a "how's it going kid" shouted from the kitchen and a bunch of muffled greetings from some of the regulars who were around when Eddie's mom was still alive. You did, however, get to meet Lynn, the blue-haired waitress that probably worked at Benny's longer than Benny had even owned the place. She was a crank and incredibly opinionated and always let Eddie's mom, then eventually Wayne and Rick, know all of the ways they were failing at raising him.
Now that Eddie was grown, she simply let him know every time she had a problem with him.
But Eddie was shocked at how swiftly you navigated the interaction with her, dodging all of the tricks and traps that typically set Eddie up for some kind of insult or life lesson.
Lynn simply took your orders--patty melts and fries with the promised apple pie shakes, "oh and extra whipped cream please"--hummed judgmentally and stalked off to top off various coffee cups. She didn't even say anything about the lack of vegetables on Eddie's plate when the food was finally ready, like she usually did when he came in for late night bites with the guys.
"How the fuck did you do that?" Eddie leaned across the table conspiratorially. "She's had it out for me for years."
"Old people love me," you explained. "I've driven my papa to enough doctor's appointments and sat through enough of his stories that I have...what did you call it? In your game? A bluff?"
"Buff," he corrected with a nod.
"Grandchild buff," you agreed and he laughed.
"Repel the Elderly," Eddie puffed out his chest and adopted his DMing voice. "A level 4 spell. No damage taken from anyone over the age of 65. But it only lasts 2 rounds. Let's hope the Harpy doesn't come back otherwise I'll need you to make a constitution saving throw. If you roll below a 10, she deals double poison damage; you might not survive."
You threw a fry at him and stuck out your tongue, then asked him to tell you more about Dungeons and Dragons. Everything was normal for a little while as you ate and talked.
Until Benny came to check on his patrons. He typically made the rounds every hour or two, stopping at tables and saying hello. The two of you were laughing at some joke Eddie made by the time Benny got to your booth.
"Hey, kid," Benny leaned his hip against the booth with his arms folded across his chest. "Long time no see; heard you got a real life, grown up job."
"Hey Ben, yeah. At the mall. Been more than a month now. I'm guessing Rick's been by?"
"You know how it goes: holiday weekend coming up, he pulls an all nighter getting supplies from his guy up in Milwaukee. Then he gets the waffle platter with extra bacon and we talk about all the town gossip."
"Nice to know I'm still gossip-worthy."
"You know how proud he is of you. This, uh...a coworker or something? You gonna introduce me or no?" Benny changed the subject and gave Eddie a knowing look. You, however, swooped in to introduce yourself as Eddie shifted in his seat uncomfortably.
He hadn't exactly told Wayne or Rick about you yet. Just that he had some new friends who worked at the mall too. It wasn't the same as talking to the guys. How many times had he had a crush over the years and came home excited about someone only to get his hopes obliterated. How many pep talks had he endured? Now, thanks to Benny's big mouth and Rick's unending need for gossip, they'd know he had taken a pretty girl to the diner.
He could truly only hope that there wouldn't be another pep talk associated with you.
"...ok Chicago," Benny sniffed as your short conversation came to an end. "You're alright. Backing the wrong football team...but still alright. Nice to meet you.”
He then turned back to Eddie.
"I need to get back to the kitchen but Rick told me about the 4th of July thing.” Eddie froze and his mouth went dry. "I'm sorry to hear about it. If you and the guys want, you can do a show here that night instead. Lot of families stop by for ice cream and pie and such.
"Maybe not that real heavy stuff you're into, but I know you boys know how to play some of the classics off the old jukebox. We could set you up in the parking lot. Phil's got some folding tables from the tree lot."
"Yeah thanks," Eddie nodded. "That sounds great. I'll bring it up to the guys when we have practice tomorrow."
"Just let me know so we can make sure you have everything you need." He turned his attention back to you. "Again, it's nice to meet ya'. Don't let Eddie scare you off, he's a big old teddy bear."
"Ben!" Eddie groaned and put his face in his hands.
"Oh he won't; I'm definitely scarier than he is," you cackled. "Nice to meet you too Benny."
Once he was gone, Lynn swooped in with the check. You immediately made to grab for it before Eddie could dare, but Lynn stopped you.
"No need honey; Edward already paid," she hummed. "As a gentleman should; seems Wayne taught you something right."
"It's always nice to see you too Lynn."
The older woman rolled her eyes and shuffled away.
You waited until she was gone before you turned your attention back to Eddie, gritted your teeth, balled the check up and threw it at him.
"Stop doing that! When did you even--"
"When you went to the bathroom," Eddie grinned triumphantly.
"You are a menace and you must be stopped!" You threw your hands in the air as you pushed yourself out of the booth to leave. "I'll get you back one day, I swear to God."
Eddie clasped both hands to his chest and gasped dramatically.
"No, please," he exclaimed. "No holy oaths in front of a lowly devil worshiper like me. I can feel the bullshit burning through me."
"Shut up, I hate you." You laughed. "Just let me pay for dinner next time."
“No, I let you pay for pizza," Eddie argued.
"You let me pay for a pizza. One. And you didn't let me do anything, I had to jump out of the van before you could. I don’t even think you had parked it yet."
“This is slander! I object.” Eddie put his hands on your shoulders, leveling you with the most stern expression he could muster. “I also let you buy cannolis.”
“Alright Perry Mason,” you rolled your eyes at him and swatted his hands off your shoulders. “You win this time.”
“Excuse me but Perry Mason always wins!"
---
You finally brought it up on the way to Lover's Lake.
It hadn't been Eddie's intention to always end your Sunday nights out at the lake, it just...happened. Pizza that first night, then Chinese food the following week when you lost track of time sitting in the employee parking lot debating which Indiana Jones film was better, Raiders or Temple of Doom. (It was Raiders. Obviously.)
Tonight, the plan had been to make s'mores on the fire pit in Rick's backyard. He had suggested it after he'd spotted a sandwich board outside of Scoops Ahoy advertising their knew Gimme S'mores flavor. He'd subtly asked you later if you had ever made s'mores before, and then gave you shit for your absolute throwaway answer.
"Like...yeah, in the microwave."
"The micr--are you shitting me right now?!"
"I'm sorry, there wasn't really an opportunity to start a bonfire in my fully paved backyard."
"Did you even have a childhood? No s'mores, no pudding, no sugar cereal? NO QUISP!"
So Eddie had gone to Bradleys and gotten marshmallows and chocolate and a variety of cookies. The plan, if you were ok with it, was going to be to smoke for a little bit--he'd dreamed of a s'more made with chocolate chip cookies when he had gotten high the other night and was very much looking forward to it--and enjoy the sweetness of both the s'mores and your company.
Instead, it had all shattered around him as he turned onto Cornwallis.
"So..." you began hesitantly, tapping your hands on your lap.
"So...?" Eddie asked, glancing over at you. You leaned forward a little, eyebrows raised expectantly. "What?"
"Benny's offer...for the 4th..."
"What about it?"
"You guys should do it!" you exclaimed. "That sounds like a really fun time."
You went on about the intimate venue and the regulars who already seemed to know Eddie and the guys, if what you had just seen at the diner was any indicator. The more you spoke, the more irritated Eddie seemed to get.
Not irritated...with you. No, just uncomfortable in his own skin. Uncomfortable with the fact that his failure was being perceived.
He ran his tongue along his bottom lip, his hands fidgeted on the steering wheel, his chest hurt. The van seemed to be getting smaller and hotter, the seat more uncomfortable, the longer you spoke.
By the time you finished, he barely felt like himself.
"No," he coughed. "No, I don't think the guys would be up for something like that."
"Why not?" you questioned. "You were getting ready to play at the fair right? What makes this different?"
"It just is," Eddie shrugged.
"I mean I get it's not a stage but--"
"You're not even gonna ask why we aren't playing at the fair?" Eddie cut in, attention fully taken off the road as he stared at you expectantly.
Because...because yeah you were nice, but it didn't make any sense that you were just...going along with whatever you heard. Why were you so quick to try and get him to accept this pity offer from Benny. Why weren't you throwing it in his face that plans had changed and his dreams were shattered.
"Ok. Why aren't you playing at the fair?" you asked and Eddie scoffed. "I'm not trying to be passive aggressive or anything, you just seem irritated that I didn't ask first. So now I am asking."
"Does it matter?" Eddie shrugged.
"Yes, because you're upset."
"I'm not upset."
"Eddie, please," you sighed. "Even Kyle said something was bothering you. I'm not trying to stir the pot and if you want me to drop it, I will. You just...when you talk about your music and the band you're always so excited. I want to understand why you don't want to take this opportunity."
"Because it's a reminder that I'm a failure!" Eddie shouted, hands coming off the steering wheel as he held them up beside his head. "Sur-fucking-prise! I can't seem to do anything right and that's usually fine, but yeah, you're right, this was one of the only things that really mattered to me and the guys. And I couldn't even get that right.
"Benny isn't asking if we wanted to play because he likes our music, because he thinks we're any good. No, it's because he feels bad that we can't play at the Fair. Because I chose what I thought was a really fucking cool set list and they turned us down. Because I fucked up and he wants to cheer me up."
"What's so bad about that? What's so bad about people who care about you wanting to take care of you?" you asked.
"Because it isn't care; it's pity!" He argued. "It's always pity of one kind of another, right? Pity that my mom died, pity that I live in a trailer park, pity that I have this dream that's gonna get me nowhere, pity that I can't even pass senior year after two freaking tries. What's the point anymore? I'm tired."
The van rumbled along, but it was silent otherwise. Eddie couldn't look at you after his outburst so he wrung his hands around the steering wheel.
Fuck. He really did it this time.
Eddie knew, he knew you were gonna ask and he was gonna try to avoid it and he was going to disappoint you. But he didn't know...
Eddie didn't like getting angry or really showing those kinds of emotions. It was different if he snapped at the guys to reel them in, or snark at stupid kids at school. It was harmless, no actual malice behind it. There were just some times...where he felt it all get too overwhelming inside of him and he didn't want to...
He didn't want to be like his dad.
It's why he liked smoking. And why he liked smoking. He wouldn't say he was someone with a lot of sharp edges to begin with, but they helped smooth out whatever rough burrs that came from the every day were left over on his soul after a tough week.
If only he had made it to Lover's Lake before you asked.
He had made the next turn back onto the highway when you spoke.
"Do you think I'm hanging out with you because I pity you?" you broke the silence with a small voice, and when he looked over, you were playing with your fingers and gnawing at your bottom lip. You didn't look scared or upset, really. That was a bit of a relief. But...
"No, I didn't mean..." Eddie paused for a second, because actually...he didn't think you were hanging out with him out of pity. But he was just waiting for the moment you realized it wasn't worth hanging out with him anymore because he was pitiful.
So maybe it was just worth it to end this whole thing now and save himself some unexpected disappointment. Just like it had been with everyone else who suddenly dropped him like a hot potato.
"I mean yeah," he shrugged. "Look at you. And then look at me. We don't exactly make sense."
"Make what sense?"
"You're like...you have everything figured out, you have your whole life together, you're like...on top of the world. Got your promotion to Store Manager, your apartment, everything. Meanwhile--"
"Eddie."
"--I can't even finish high school, my band can't play a bigger crowd than the Hideout, I'm pretty sure I...accidentally sold my soul or something because Kyle hired me and I'm actually doing a good job? But where am I gonna be in 5 years, in 10? Probably still right where I am. I've literally screwed up everything I've ever put my mind to. It doesn't make sense."
"When things don't work out for us, when we're disappointed, yeah it does feel like nothing makes sense," you sighed. "But that's why you need to let the people around you who want to help you, actually help you.
"It's not a bad thing to accept he--Why are we back at the mall?" You suddenly asked as he pulled onto the Mall drive and headed towards the employee lot.
"Well I figure the night is over, I would take you back to your car," he shrugged weakly.
You opened your mouth to say something, but quickly closed it and nodded.
Yeah, that's what he thought.
He still got out of the van and opened the door for you when he parked next to your car, he offered you some chocolate to take home if you wanted, and he even kissed your hand before you got in the car to leave.
"See you around sweetheart," he said softly through your open window.
"See you Eddie, have a good night please," you offered a small smile. "Please...be good to yourself ok?"
He tucked his hands into his pockets and watched you drive away before he got back into the van.
Be good to himself.
Weird, but that definitely sounded better the "fuck you" he usually got when people disappeared from his life.
---
Except you didn't disappear from his life. You lived in the same town, worked at the same mall, for crying out loud; you still parked your car kind of close to his when he came in for the rest of his shifts that week. You didn't eat lunch together like you'd gotten used to doing...but he would still catch glimpses of you as you passed each other on break.
It was almost...back to how it was before he had gotten the nerve to go and talk to you that first time. You would smile and wave and he would look away. Neither of you said anything to one another, but you weren't hostile and neither was Eddie.
The 4th of July arrived and Eddie had to work. He had originally traded shifts with someone so he could do a short mid instead of a close and he'd forgotten to switch it back. But that meant he caught you leaving Tape World at the end of, what should have been, your 15 minute break.
"What was she doing here?" Eddie asked Kyle, who was surprisingly decked out in as much flag gear as he could get his hands on.
"Who? Oh your girlfriend?" Kyle pushed his star-shaped sunglasses up the bridge of his nose as he filed some receipts away. The grin on his face was obnoxious.
"She's not my girlfriend."
"Uh huh. Sure. Well, her shop radio broke again and she forgot her tapes again," Kyle shrugged. "What else is new? Hey maybe if I send you up there on official Tape World Business, you two can make up and you can stop being such a fuckin' grump."
Eddie ignored him.
That night, there was no concert at Benny's but he and the guys did end up going to the fair and eating funnel cake until they puked.
They actually had a good time; they had even watched the musical lineup for a little while. Whatever the clerk at the Park Department had chosen wasn't nearly as good as Corroded Coffin would have been. And that knowledge, paired with Gareth's heckling and Jeff's booing, kind of made him feel a little better.
The following Sunday passed by without your usual date night. Eddie still passed by your store on the way out to the employee lot. You didn't look at him or wave this time, you were at the register going over something with, what looked to be, a new hire. You laughed and his chest hurt a little.
Eddie knew how much those little dates, how much those lunches and breaks spent together, really brightened up his week. But it wasn't until he didn't have them anymore that he realized just how strong of a foothold you had in his life in such a short amount of time.
He really should never have pushed you away like he had.
He had fucked up.
He missed you.
---
"Hey Ed, once you clock in can you check the shipment in?" Kyle asked as soon as Eddie crossed through the doors to start his shift the following Wednesday.
"Yeah, great," Eddie sighed. “No problem.”
It wasn’t that he hated checking the shipment in….it’s just that there were about a million other parts of working at Tape World that he liked better. Talking to customers, choosing what would play on the store radio for the duration of his shift…shit, even counting down the registers at night. But this was tedious. Busy work.
It was an endless stack of boxes and he needed to make sure what was inside matched the packing slip. Thousands of little tapes. Great.
"There's some special orders back there too, if you can give the customers a call!" Kyle hollered after Eddie as he slipped into the stock room. Sure enough, there were a few larger boxes propped up by the little break area.
Now that was something Eddie enjoyed a little more. He'd call the customers--usually some desk jockey who got themselves something to get through their mid-life crisis, or a parent getting some dream gift that their kid would forget about come next month--and tell them their special order had just arrived. Then typically, they would drop into the store that day or the next day and he would get to help them unpack and test out their brand new guitar.
Aside from selling the sparkling new guitars from one of the many catalogs at the counter, this was the best part of his job. And knowing he would get to do it immediately brought his mood up.
Eddie himself had been waiting for the day where a package would be there for him. On his first day, as they were setting up the store before the mall had even opened, he had unpacked the box of catalogs and found a doozy of guitar that he had his eye on: A BC Rich Warlock. And he had been putting money towards it with every paycheck. Tape World had a plan, just like the holiday layaway at K-Mart, and combined with his employee discount...he was almost there.
He dreamt about it as he grabbed a box and pulled the packing slip from where it was attached on the side of the box.
Maybe in the next few weeks? Next month? He'd come back here and the label would say...
Edward Munson/Tape World/1 StarCourt Drive/Unit F3
Eddie blinked.
Yeah. That's what it would say.
Wait. Was he still high from after last night's show? When they'd made a very late McDonalds run and smoked in Gareth's garage?
Edward Munson/Tape World/1 StarCourt Drive
He blinked again. Nope, still the same.
Edward Munson
"Well?" Eddie jumped at the sound of Kyle's voice by the stockroom door. He had his arms crossed and he had the biggest grin on his face. "You gonna open it or what?"
"What the fuck man? Where did this come from?" Eddie questioned.
"I would assume wherever BC Rich makes their guitars? California, I don't know. I work here, remember dingus?"
"No I mean," Eddie fumbled over his words. "I hadn't made the last payment, where did it...did you..."
"Look at the packing slip man," Kyle gestured. "The order form."
Eddie quickly flipped to the Tape World order form stapled to the packing slip. There were lines of his signatures, and the amount of money he had put down with each payment...and then at the very bottom...
A very intricate signature. Yours. And the last hundred dollar payment, marked in red pen.
No. You didn't. You couldn't have. When did you even?
"I told you she was your girlfriend," Kyle cackled. "I fuckin' told you."
--
Kyle had been gracious enough to let Eddie take an early lunch so he could find you...confront you...kiss you...Eddie wasn't sure yet.
You opened on Wednesdays so right about now you would be taking the cardboard out to the loading dock and then taking your last break. He knew because, if not for the fact that he hadn't talked to you in over a week, he would be right there with you.
Still you jumped in surprise when he burst onto the loading dock, the heavy dock door slamming into the brick wall, just as you were hitting the button on the baler.
"Jesus Christ, Eddie," you put your neon pink, fishnet glove-clad hand on your chest. "Gave me a heart attack."
"Why did you do it?" Eddie asked.
"Do what?"
"This," he pulled the order form from his back pocket and crossed the short distance to show you. He tapped on your signature several times. "Why would you do this for me?"
Your mouth formed a soft "oh" and you sighed.
"Because you're my friend," you explained as if it was obvious. "Because you've been really down and you needed cheering up."
"This isn't just...cheering a friend up. It's too much."
"It really isn't," you shook your head.
"It's a hundred dollars!"
"I have savings," you continued.
"And you have, like...rent and bills and stuff."
"So do you...you said you've been helping your uncle with rent and bills and stuff," you said in a way that mocked him. He gritted his teeth.
"I was gonna use my sales bonus for the final payment."
"Well I'm due for mine coming up too."
"I'm paying you back!" Eddie insisted.
"No you aren't. I wanted to do this for you so I did it."
"If you felt sorry for me or--"
"I just wanted to cheer you up Eddie!" You exclaimed, slamming your hands on the baler button again in finality, as if crushing the already-crushed cardboard was somehow going to drive your point home. "I don't feel sorry for you. I don't pity you. You're my friend and you were really down, disappointed.
"Tell me yes or no? Were you on the verge of giving up? Yes or no, right now."
Eddie froze.
No he wouldn't. Except...hadn't he? There was no 4th of July Fair, which meant there also wasn't a show at Benny's. Their last set at the Hideout wasn't...well he wasn't as good as he could have been. As good as he usually was.
Maybe he had...given up on himself a little. Let the self pity get the best of him.
"No," was the answer he gave you though.
Your eyes hardened and narrowed in challenge. You placed your hands on your hips and stood toe to toe with him and although he was the taller one between the two of you, it certainly felt like you were a giantess towering over him, complete with layers of fishnet and rayon and tulle fluttering in the slight breeze off the loading dock.
"Maybe you didn't hear yourself in the van after Benny's but I did," you began. "You felt like everyone pitied you, that no one was your friend or on your side. You were alone, and in place of real pain and disappointment, and you said you were tired. What is the point of trying anymore, you're tired. You said that, Eddie. You did.
"And I've been there, ok? I'm not that much older than you but I kind of am in a different stage of my life. So I'm sorry if I've ever made it seem like things are easy for me...I'm sure in some aspects they are, but in others...yeah I've been there. It's hard not to compare yourself to others when you're down, but also, you can't just...push people away or think that they're taking pity on you when they're just trying to help.
"And I know it's hard to get over that little hurdle of feeling like everything is a trick or a trap and accept nice things from other people, so excuse me if I took the initiative to do it without your permission. Because when I was at a place of giving up and not wanting help or advice, someone did that for me. So I'm doing it for you now. And I would do it again in a heartbeat."
Eddie stared directly into your eyes as he processed everything. Back and forth, left and right, as your heavy breathing went back to normal.
"Because, if you fail to remember, you have been doing nice things for me these past few weeks, and you really haven't let me return the favor quite yet, so if you don't want to accept that I'm just doing something nice for a friend, then accept that I'm paying you back for all the nice things you've done for me."
He swallowed and looked down at his feet for a moment.
"It was just...some pizzas and snacks--"
"And chili cheese fries, and surprise sodas on the days we don't have our breaks at the same time, and that movie ticket, and dinner at Benny's, and all the gas you've used to drive us around when at this point I can probably navigate town by myself," you finished for him.
Eddie did a mental tally and yeah, you were right. He did do all of those things, and no, he hadn't and probably still wouldn't let you return the favor if you gave him the chance to be your friend again.
"I know friendship isn't supposed to be transactional, but the scale has been tipped immensely towards you, so instead of just sitting back and watching you feel like a failure and give up on your dream because some stupid...I don't know, festival...person has no taste in music, I wanted to do something to surprise you. To cheer you up."
"Why haven't you talked to me then?" he asked.
"What do you mean? You haven't been talking to me," you laughed. "I've been waving and saying hello...you dropped me off at my car that night and then...you haven't even looked at me since. So I figured you just needed the space. I get that too; needing some time, some space."
"I guess I thought you didn't want anything to do with me anymore," Eddie replied lamely. Because yeah, you had been doing those things. Maybe...maybe you were right, maybe he did need the space too. God, you were such a know it all. "I'm here now."
"Yeah I see that," you deadpanned. "Hi."
"Hi," Eddie parroted. "Thank you. For the surprise. I really...really was...surprised."
"Of course, any time," you nodded. "How are you feeling? Any better?"
"Yeah," he sighed. "Just like you said, I needed some time to work it out. Spent some time with the guys, it cheered me up."
"Good."
"You missed out on all the carnival food. Made the guys ride the tilt a whirl...Gareth's puke was purple."
"Yeah," you scrunched your nose. "I really missed out."
"There's always next year."
"Great." You offered him a small smile. "We good?"
"Yeah. You still want to hang out with me on Sunday? I, uh, really missed you."
"I missed you too. Maybe...you can give me a private show this Sunday? With your shiny new guitar? Only if you're up for it, of course."
"Absolutely. Sundays with you are my..." Eddie hesitated.
Should he say it? Would it scare you away?
Before he could finish, you put your hand on his arm and squeezed.
"They're mine too."
---
Next Part: Interview Prep
Sales Associates (AKA the tag list):
@gaysludge @storiesbyrhi @tayhar811 @spookybabey @word-wytch @maidenofartemis @dreamlandcreations @wickedbelle @blue-eyed-lion @aysheashea @blue-mossbird @abibliophobiaa @jabbatheslutt420 @ghost-proofbaby @bakugouswh0r3 @ghostinthebackofyourhead
If you weren't given any hours this week (aka if you aren't already tagged or if I forgot to tag you) let me know via ask or comment. I'm sure I can find some extra payroll.
#Eddie munson#Eddie Munson x reader#Eddie Munson fluff#Eddie Munson imagine#Eddie Munson stranger things#stranger things fic#Eddie Munson fic#stranger things fluff#store manager verse
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Sundress szn ☀️
Pairing: Shuri Udaku x Black!Fem!Reader
Word count: 2k
Contains: (18+ smut) , (some fluff if you look through a telescope?), (public sex) & (some cursing.)
Tags: @abenomeiiii @playhousedistee @vampzxi @heejayy @amplifiedmoan @inmyheadimobsessed @sapphicvqmpires @oceean @bstaytrippin @myaraines @everythingiseverythingl @shurilover
(comment to be added 💟)
Synopsis: While out shopping for your bae-cation with your girlfriend, she simply just can’t seem to be able keep her hands to herself.
A/N something short and sweet while i get my thoughts together for my lil bitty series, hehe :) as always, ignore any errors because… ya girl didn’t proofread NUFFIN!! Anywhosies, iii hope ya enjoy babies! 💕 P.S there are two parts of this so stay tuned 😗!
“Baby, y’know I’m tryna beat the traffic and you really in there taking your sweet little time?” Shuri groaned in annoyance. “Don’t rush me,” you chuckled. “I’m trying to look presentable.” You shout out from the bathroom where you’d been applying final touches to your appearance.”
“What? Mama, you look good as always. Bring that ass on already.” The annoyed tone in her voice didn’t match the smile you knew she had on her face like always. Even with the door shut. She couldn’t quite help herself when it came to you. It’s what you most admired about her. That same, radiant smile that would be permanently living rent free on her sweet little face you yearned to look at each and every day.
You stepped out of the bathroom after what Shuri would swear had been ages later, now ready to go. Shuri had been waiting right outside of the door and the look on her face when she laid her beautiful brown eyes on you was almost priceless. She stared at you, in awe it seemed, like she’s never seen anything like what had been standing in front of her before, this earned her a smirk from you. “What baby?” You chuckle, wrapping your arms around her small body, pulling her into a snug hug and looking up at her.
“I don’t know if we’re ever gonna make it out at this point.” Shuri licked over her lips with nothing but lust in her eyes that you found yourself getting lost in by the moment.
“And why is that?” You endeavored hiding your smirk.
“Not sure if i can handle being out in public with you looking as good as you do, my love.” By now, a quite visibly big smile emerged across your face at her words. “Yeah? I look good?” You brushed your lips across hers. “Mhm.” She mumbled in the kiss.
“Okay baby, we g-got to g-go.” You somehow managed to get out in between kisses from your girlfriend. “Let’s just stay in and I’ll take you out tomorrow. I promise.” Shuri continued leaving trails of kisses on your lips and down to your neck, her hands wandering your body and began making their way down to the curves of your perfectly sculpted ass, which she grabbed onto as you tried to back away from her.
“Nooo, you said we’d go to the mall.” You whined out.
“Fine.” Shuri left one more kiss at your temple. “However, i cannot promise you anything about my actions in them stores, y/n.” She smiled. “I mean look at you, that damn dress is just begging me to lift it up and-“ You brought your index finger to her mouth, shushing her.
“As much as i liked where that was going, somethings telling me to stop you right there because I’m afraid if i let you finish that sentence, we’re not leaving this house any time soon.” You removed your finger from her face. “I’m okay with that.” She grinned. Of course she did. “I’m aware.” You backed out of her touch and headed down your stairs and your girlfriend followed suit behind you.
…
The whole car ride, Shuri followed her duties as a driver with her passenger princess right beside her, mainly why you liked for her to drive instead of you. Her right hand rested in your lap, the placement you absolutely loved. This time, she gave you a few more glances than she usually would during a car ride. You found it cute that you’d catch her staring at you, admiring your presence and your beauty which she normally did but right now, she couldn’t take her eyes off of you. Those dangerous eyes. “You look so good, y/n. Making me wanna put this car in park right the fuck now.” Shuri looked at you and then back at the road.
“Aww, thank you, sweet face.” You leaned in to kiss her cheek before pinching the flesh you just placed a kiss on. “Let us get to our destination first, we have shopping to do.” You squeezed her hand that laid in your lap. “Then, maybe we can arrange something on the way back home.”
“Yeah?” Shuri’s lustful eyes were now on you again.
“Yeah.” You answered.
“Alright then.” Shuri’s eyes went back on the road before her.
…
You and Shuri have now entered five different stores, you were there to shop for clothing for the vacation she’d booked for your 4 year anniversary. So far, you’ve only found two outfits for you both in two out of the five stores you’ve been in. Yet, in all five, Shuri couldn’t help but to be touchy-feely on you in each store. She made sure to hold your hand, grip your waist, rub on your soft ass when nobody would be looking, (not that she’d care if anyone were looking anyways) and rubbing small circles on your back at the checkout lines. It was an endless series of events which you loved.
Her touch made you desire more and more of it but in other intimate ways. You needed more outfits though and you weren’t leaving this mall until you walked out with enough for the both of you and the sake of this trip. Which means, you both would have to hold off a little bit longer. You knew you could, but you knew it’d be way too much for Shuri.
Why not amp her up a bit? You thought to yourself. Having a bit of fun messing with her was now apart of your mission on the search for these pieces of clothing.
…
you’ve now found four outfits for each of you now and you only needed at least two more for the both of you. Shuri said you’d need a couple fancy dresses for a few of her plans she had, so you entered another store that you both hoped to be the last.
Shuri was behaving a bit too well so you decided to toy with her to see how well she’d behave now.
“My panther, come here please.” You called out to her, she had been looking at the suits the store had on display on her own. Of course, this made her eyes shoot up at you. You knew exactly what you were doing. It drove Shuri crazy when you’d call her that. She likes it most in the bed room. Shuri knew now, you were definitely trying to get her railed up.
She came quickly over to where you stood with an innocent smile on your face, pretending to be interested in the clothing that hung up before you. “You like this, baby?”
“Love it. What are you trying to do, y/n?” Shuri whispered.
“What you talking about? Should i get this dress and these shoes?” You bent down, right in front of her to pick up the pair of heels that were on the bottom shelf rack that you could’ve picked up without bending down so obviously dramatic. Your ass pressed against up her front. Before you stood up, Shuri left a long drag on your ass. As short as your dress was, you were sure she seen that you weren’t wearing any underwear. When you stood up and faced her, she’d already been glaring at you. Gnawing on her bottom lip. “What size is that dress, my love?” Shuri smirked. “Um, a medium. Why?” You questioned. The grin leaving your face. You thought your actions already were for sure enough to get a better reaction out of her.
“Hm, it looks a bit big. Might want to try that one on.” If Shuri bit down on her lip any harder, it’d bleed for sure.
“O-okay. Come with me?” You ask. “Always.” She replies.
…
You and Shuri made it into a fitting room and she took a seat in the chair inside the room. “Go on, try it on.” You turned to face the mirror and started taking down the straps that rested on your shoulders of your dress first, you moved slowly as you spotted your girlfriend in the reflection of the mirror watching your every move from the corner of your eye. Soon, your white dress dropped down to your ankles.
You turned to face Shuri since she’d been holding the dress you were meant to try on. You extended your hand out to reach for the dress and she jerked her hand back away from yours. “No panties, y/n?” Shuri eyed you. “Naw, i got on panties they just invisible. Give the dress to me, Shuri.” You reached for the dress once again and Shuri snatched it away from your reach, just like she did before. Shuri sat manspread with the dress held high above her head, knowing you couldn’t reach it.
“You know, as for someone that’s ass naked and standing right in front of me right now, it’s quite ridiculous that you’re being a smart ass to me.” Shuri stood up, now hovering over you since she was slightly taller than you were. “Not like you’re gonna do something about it.” You knew she would. You wanted nothing more right now. Not in public though, you’d think she wouldn’t be up for doing such sinful activities. Not here, not now, anyways.
Oh, how wrong you were.
“…nnghh” you breathed out as Shuri grabbed your onto your throat, caressing your skin ever so gently over your windpipe. “My love, you and i both know that’s not true, right?” Shuri’s free hand wrapped around your waist. “You think i haven’t noticed you trying to toy with me, y/n? I— I notice everything.” Shuri tried her best to be as maintain her whispers as long as possible, being that this store was busy with customers running in and out and there being nothing but a thick fabric used as a door.
Anyone passing by or in the next room over to the left or right of your room could possibly hear anything said. “And you’ve still done nothing about it, princess.” You spat, bravely. Before you knew it Shuri’s hands were now all over your body as she kissed you passionately. Your body grew hot as her fingers trailed in between your legs. Her tattooed hand rested right below your bellybutton, making you breathe out in desperation. You looked at her with lust in your eyes, begging her with them to just give in and make you feel good already, to ease the throbbing sensation on your already leaking cunt.
“My panther, p-please can you f-fuck me.” You tried your best whispering to your girlfriend. “Right here?” She smirked. “Right fucking here.” This time, you didn’t give a fuck about whispering or not, you were just ready to be pleasured by the girl you loved most. And with that, Shuri’s digits circled around your clit in a slow motion, causing you to moan out at the instant pleasure you felt on your aching bud. “Unnh. Baby. Fuck, that’s it.” You moaned into her neck as you hugged her tightly while propping up one leg up on the side of the wall for easier access. “Shh, keep quiet, my pretty baby.” Shuri reminded as you couldn’t help but to continue spilling curse words out of your mouth left and right as Shuri’s skillful digits moved gracefully around your clit.
“Look at how wet you are. All this for me baby?” Shuri’s fingers trailed down to your entrance where she circled her index finger around your awaiting hole. “Y-yes” you mumbled in the crook of her neck as quietly as you possibly could. “Yes what?” Shuri teased you, sliding in her index finger slowly but leaving it there. “Yes, my panther! Fuck!” This time, your cries weren’t as muffled as before and you were sure someone had to hear the sound that just escaped your lips. “Fuck me Shuri, p-please!” You begged. Which, Shuri loved. She rammed her fingers in your hole, squelching sounds already leaving your dripping cunt. Shuri’s fingers fucked into you harder and harder as your moans became almost impossible to control, your legs started to tremble as you felt your orgasm building up, about ready to burst.
Your chest heaved up and down as Shuri repeatedly hit your g-spot, making you squirm in her arms. “F-fuck, Shuri, Shuri, Shuri-“ you repeated. “I know mama, let it out for me.” Your gripped onto Shuri as hard as you could, your legs shaking, you, a whimpering, and an utterly sticky mess. “I- i’m-“ you moaned out. Shuri’s fingers slowed down a bit but never stopped hitting your g-spot. After a few more pumps inside of you, you completely unraveled in her arms.
You came, nothing but a creamy mess was left leaking down your thighs and all around your lover’s fingers.
“Fuck, y/n.”
Your breathing was all over the place and your curls were frizzy and remained in your face as you tried to hurry up and come down from your high, you collapsed in Shuri’s arms. “You alright?”
“Y-yes.” You breathed out. “Good, because I’m not done with you. You know that right?” Shuri asked before bringing her cream coated fingers to her mouth and sucking them clean. You couldn’t see her, but the sound of her licking away, you knew good and well what she had been doing and it made you want her even more right about now. “Leave?” Was all you could say at the moment. “Yes love, we can leave. come on, let’s get your dress back on.” Shuri gave you kiss on the forehead.
Shuri helped you slip back on your dress and your sandals and moved your curls from out of your face, grabbed your hand and opened the curtain. On the way out, to the left of you was an old lady, you and Shuri both noticed her staring as soon as you stepped foot out of the room. She’d had an disgusted look on her face. You and Shuri both turned to each other and all you could do was laugh as you walked out of the fitting rooms before putting the pretty sparkly dress you’d been looking at back where you found it and exiting the store hand and hand with your girlfriend and that innocent smile plastered on your face from earlier as if she didn’t just make you cum on her fingers just a minute ago and also because you knew she would devour you in the car sooner than later.
#letitia wright#black panther#shuri udaku#black is beautiful#letitia wright black panther#princess shuri#shuri smut#marvel#shuri fanfiction#shuri#sundress#sundress szn#ihearttish
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Ice cold secret P2
P1 P3 P4
Summary: Sturniolo. Your rival once you take a step on the ice ring. You and Chris are both very good players of opposite teams and schools. But the college, you both look forward on getting a sport scholarship, only takes 1 person pro year. The only thing you want to focus on is hockey. But that isn’t as easy as it first seemed when you met Nick - the triplet brother of your rival.
Warnings: cursing, drinking, mentions of throwing up
-g3z0
I hate to be responsible.
Im surrounded by drunken idiots that laugh about everything and can’t take one single thing serious.
I wish I hadn’t agreed on not drinking tonight and being their driver.
„Im gonna grab a water.“ I mumble to Noah before walking into the kitchen of Nate‘s house.
I open the fridge and roll my eyes when I see that the whole fridge is only filled with alcohol. I lick my lips and close it again.
Suddenly a bright light blinds me, making me squint my eyes for a second. I blink my eyes open and look at Chris brother, a camera in his hands.
I smile a little and raise my eyebrows „what was that for?“ I question. He looks down at his camera, looking at the picture he just took „Chris asked me to take pics.“ he says, looking back up at me.
My eyes meet his. Wow - he got the same intimidating eyes as Chris and Matt. „what are you looking for?“ he asks. I frown at him and bite my inner cheek „hm?“
He smiles a little and nods in the direction of the fridge. „Oh.“ I shake my head a little and look away from him „water, or something. Just something non alcoholic.“ I mumble, looking back at him.
He nods a little „come on.“ he says, walking away. I don’t move for a few seconds as I watch him walk away „oh, okay.“ I say, following him.
He walks into the garage and opens the fridge in there, grabbing a water bottle out of it. He hands it out to me and I take it from him with a smile. „Thanks.“
He smiles up at me and closes the fridge again. „You don’t drink?“ he asks. I open the water bottle as I shake my head „nah, need to drive those idiots home later.“
He chuckles a little and leans against the wall next to me. „You don’t drink?“ I repeat his question before I take a few sips out of the water bottle.
He shrugs with his shoulders „nope.“ I nod a little „I’m y/n, by the way.“
Fuck, why am I so nervous?
He raises his eyebrows at me „not Wolfie?“ he laughs a little. I smile and shake my head, looking to the side. „Wolfie is just a stupid nickname people call me..“ I mumble.
„yeah, it is kinda stupid.“ he says. „Im Nick.“ I nod a little, leaning against the wall next to him. „You don’t play hockey?“ I ask, looking at him.
He shakes his head „did when I was a kid. Sports are not my thing.“ he looks up at me and meets my gaze.
I lick my lips and look away from him. God, his eyes. „So, you‘re like the photographer of the huskies?“ I ask, looking back at him.
„Kinda.“ he shrugs with his shoulders. „Can I see some?“ I mention to his camera. His eyes light up a little and he nods „yeah, of course.“ he smiles, going through the photos of his camera.
I lean a little forward to him to get a better view. The scent of his parfume fills my nostrils. Fuck, he smells good.
„They‘re good.“ I whisper as we look at his photos. „Yeah?“ he asks. I look up to look into his eyes „yeah.“
I realize how close we are actually and I swallow a little. We hear the garage door being pushed open, making us both look at it.
Jacob stumbles in, laughing. „Fuck, Wolfie.“ he laughs, shaking his head. I frown at him „what?“
He leans against the door and squeezes his eyes as he bursts out in laughter. I roll my eyes „what?“ I repeat.
„Ethan-" he laughs as he shakes his head „bro, he just threw up all over in the bathroom.“
I let out a frustrated sigh and push myself off the wall. I walk over to Jacob and grab his arm „get your drunk ass inside.“ I mumble as I pull him with me.
We walk back into Nate’s house and I let go off Jacob’s arm, making my way towards the bathroom. I push the bathroom door open and look down at Ethan, who’s hanging his head over the toilet.
„Fucking hell.“ nick mumbles behind me and I look at him for a second. I sigh and walk into the bathroom, kneeling next to Ethan.
„You okay, Buddy?“ I ask, laying a hand on his shoulder. Ethan lets out a groan „I don’t feel so good..“ he mumbles. „I can see that.“ I sigh, looking back at Nick.
Nick laughs a little and shakes his head. I smile a little and look back at Ethan. „We‘re gonna get you home, alright?“ I say softly to him.
„Mhm..“ he mumbles. I stand back up and grab him under his arms, pulling him up. He leans with his full body weight against me, making us stumble a little backwards.
„You really don’t know how to handle your alcohol.“ I shake my head and lay Ethan’s arm around my shoulder.
„Sorry-" I look back at Nick „I gotta get him home.“ nick shake his head and smiles „no, all good. I just wanted to leave, so..“ he says.
„Do you want a lift?“ I ask him before I even think about what I just said. I don’t have any more room in my car. „Uhm.. sure, only if that isn’t a problem.“ nick says.
I shake my head and walk past him, with Ethan in my arm. „No, it’s fine.“ I smile. „Im gonna get the others, just watch over him please.“ I laugh a little, placing Ethan against the wall.
He lets out a groan and leans against Nick, making his eyes go wide. I let out a laugh „guess somebody likes you“ I chuckle.
Nick shakes his head a little „come on, don’t leave me here with him.“ I shrug with my shoulders as I smirk at him „you‘ll survive a few minutes.“ I say before I walk back into the living room.
I get the rest of my team and walk back to Nick. Ethan’s arms are wrapped around nick torso as he has his head leaning against nicks shoulder.
I shake my head and laugh a little „sorry- he gets too touchy when he’s drunk.“ I mumble, pulling Ethan softly away from Nick.
„Yeah, I figured.“ nick sighs. We all walk to my car and I nod into the direction of the passenger seat „you can sit in the front.“ I say to Nick.
He smiles a little and nods, walking around my car. „I always sit in the front!“ Ethan slurs and I press my hand against his mouth. „Shut up.“ I mumble harshly.
Aiden opens the back door of my car and gets inside, Jacob and will sit next to him. Noah frowns at me „where am I supposed to sit?“ he asks. I roll my eyes and push him into my car „just get on someone’s lap.“
He lets out a groan and climbs over the other boys, sitting down on Aiden’s lap. „Owh!“ Aiden screams, pushing Noah away from him. „stop that!“ Noah yells back.
„Stop complaining or y’all can walk.“ I sigh, pushing Ethan into the car before shutting the door.
I get into the drivers seat and start my engine. „he’s fucking heavy.“ Jacob complains as Ethan lays over him and Will.
I roll my eyes and look over to Nick, shaking my head. Nick laughs a little and looks away.
I start to drive and try to stay calm with the fives boys in my backseat, insulting and screaming at each other.
After I dropped the boys off, there’s only me and Nick left in my car.
„Are you bossing them around like that on the ice too?“ nick chuckles, looking at me. I smile a little and shrug with my shoulders „kinda.“ I say, looking at him for a second.
I grab the steering wheel harder and clench my jaw a little. He needs to look away from me - he makes me too fucking nervous.
„The next one left.“ he says. I nod and turn left ar the next junction. „That house right there.“ I hear nicks voice as he points at one of the houses.
„Alright..“ I whisper, parking infront of his house.
„Thanks.“ he smiles at me as he unbuckles his seatbelt. I return his smile „you‘re welcome.“ I mumble.
He doesn’t get out of the car and we stare at each other for a few seconds. I swallow and he clears his throat „see you the next game, I guess.“ he says before he gets out of my car, pressing my door shut and walking to his house.
I let out a breathe and lean my head against the head rest of my car.
What the fuck.
-
„Don’t yell.“ Ethan mumbles as he closes his eyes, pressing his hand against his forehead.
I shake my head and let out a breathe „then don’t drink. You know we have practice the next day.“ I say sternly.
I feel like a father of 5 boys who went out drinking secretly the day before.
„Come on, give us one day off.“ will sighs. I roll my eyes and open my mouth to say something.
„Woolfaar!“ I get cut off from the voice of our coach, making us 6 all look at him. I bite my inner cheek and look back at my teammates.
„Get on the ice, I’ll be right back.“ I sigh before I start to walk towards our couch.
I hear the others groaning and sighing before I hear the familiar sound of blades on ice.
„Yes, coach? I ask, stopping in front of him. He smiles at me. „Johnson called me.“ he says. My heart skips a beat. „The couch from Boston university?“ I ask.
He nods. „they‘re interested in you.“ he says. I let out a breathe and smile „but-" he continues „they‘re also interested in Sturniolo.“
I lick my lips and nod a little. Of course they are also interested in Chris. He’s a great player. Great captain.
„That means you gotta convince them why they should take you, instead of Sturniolo.“ he says.
I nod again „I’ll get better before our next game-" - „next weekend.“ he cuts me off.
I raise my eyebrows „what?"
The next game against the huskies was planned in three months.
He nods, looking towards my team on the ice. „The couch of Sturniolo, Johnson and me had a meeting. We agreed that you‘ll play as many games as possible against each other, so Boston university can make a decision.“ He looks back up at me.
I nod again, looking down.
This isn’t enough time. If I really want to convince them I need more.
„Wolfie.“ coach says, making me look back up at him. „You got this.“ he reassures me. „Yeah- Sturniolo is great.“ he licks his lips „but you‘re better. And you know that.“
Do I know that?
I sigh „okay..“ I mumble. He lays his hands on my shoulders. „You‘re only focusing on hockey for the next few weeks, understand?“ he says.
I nod again „yes..“ He smiles at me „no distractions. Wolfie, this is going to decide your whole future.“
I swallow a little. It's not as if I already feel enough pressure.
He lets go off my shoulders. „Now get your ass on the ice.“ he says. I smile a little „yes, sir.“ I say, grabbing my stick and getting on the ice.
Nick’s POV
„Fuck!“ Chris yells, kicking against the lockers.
Me and Matt look at each other and both roll our eyes. „Chris, I understand you‘re stressed-" Matt starts but Chris cuts him off.
„No, you don’t understand shit.“ he breathes, running through his hair. „This is my future. I need to get this scholarship.“
„And you will.“ I say as I open my locker. „It’s not that easy, Nick.“ Chris sighs, leaning against the lockers.
„Y/n, is good. Fuck, he’s perfect.“ Chris groans, leaning his head against the lockers.
Y/n is perfect. But I don’t think me and Chris have the same meaning behind it.
„Don’t talk yourself down.“ Matt says. Chris shakes his head and closes his eyes. „Next Game is this Saturday..“ he mumbles.
My heart skips a beat as I grab my books out of the lockers, closing it after. „This weekend?“ I ask, looking at Chris.
He blinks his eyes open and licks his lips „yeah.“ he sighs, pushing himself off the lockers. „We‘re gonna play the next few weekends against the marauders.“ he shakes his head.
I look at Matt for a second before looking back at Chris. „What the fuck?“ Matt sighs.
„I know.“ Chris mumbles, crossing his arms in front of his chest. „so that the Boston university can decide between me and him.“
I feel guilty for being excited that I’m gonna see him again this Saturday. Fuck, this shouldn’t be happening.
„It’s gonna be okay.“ I try to reassure him. He gives me a weak smile. „I hope so..“ he mumbles.
#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets x reader#nick sturniolo x you#nick x reader
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TULIPS 🌷⁎︎° ✳︎ CHAPTER 15 : “ speechless ,,
↳︎ cw: girthy written ch 🤞
[ prev. ✧︎ toc. ✧︎ next. ]
Y/N SHUT OFF her phone, turning her attention back to the tube of mascara in her hand. when her roomate, winter, belted out a note from one of the songs blaring through the dorm’s speaker system, y/n flinched, smearing the inky black makeup underneath her eye. she silently cursed winter’s existence.
“y/n!” yunjin bursted into one of the dorm’s two bathrooms, giving her roomate a hug from behind. “you almost done? jay’s gonna be here in…” she looked at her wrist for a watch that was evidently nonexistent. “…soon. he’ll be here soon.”
“i would be done if WINTER hadn’t startled me,” she pointed to the smudge. yunjin giggled. winter yelled back an apology from the living room.
“it’s kind of a look,” she looked at yunjin with eyes that said ‘seriously?’ and wiped it away with a q-tip. she finished off with a spray of her perfume.
“woah, woah,” yunjin let go of y/n to cross her arms, a knowing smile plastered on her lips. “that’s your good perfume. as in, the fancy-expensive-one-that-smells amazing-but-you-refuse-to-let-us-even-touch-it perfume.” y/n shrugged, knowing where yunjin was going but denying her of the satisfaction.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about, yun.”
“this is for yeonjun isn’t it,” she said it as a statement rather than a question. caught.
“crazy assumption… we, like, just met.”
“re-met. and you’re already a goner,” yunjin wasn’t buying y/n’s refusal after her and winter had listened to y/n’s retelling of the diner outing. ‘you’re drooling, y/n,’ she’d said. ‘you practically have stars in your eyes.’ winter added. yeah right.
“am not! this perfume just smells really good!!”
“oh… oh ok. yeah no for sure.”
“get out.”
“nope. you’re coming with; we gotta go,” yunjin pulled on y/n’s arm to lead her out of the bathroom, making y/n laugh at the toddler-like behavior.
“they’re already here? isn’t it like 5:15?”
“ ‘already?’ ” winter chimed in, sitting up from the sofa. “it’s 5:45, y/n.”
“same thing.”
“y/n, i think your new year’s resolution next year should be punctuality,” yunjin joked as y/n grabbed her bag and keys from the kitchen counter.
“she already tried last year, remember?” winter giggled.
“you guys are mean,” she pouted, exiting the dorm room while the girls trailed behind her to the elevator.
THEY SPOTTED JAY’S car (aka, “miranda,” to their recent knowledge), its exterior sparkling clean as he’d mentioned. he was sat in the driver’s seat, phone in hand, texting their group chat to inquire the girls’ whereabouts. winter stealthily approached his window and knocked, making jay jump and everyone else laugh. the girls hopped in the back seats.
“why are we all sitting in the back? is this some sort of patriarchal seating arrangement?” yunjin asked, kai laughing, and taehyun promptly answering from the front seat with a ‘yes.’
they’d all made it to the karaoke booths with 5 minutes to spare—with, of course, the ride’s conversation being the statutory yeonjun questionnaire—to find yeonjun, soobin, and beomgyu waiting outside.
kai was the first to exit the vehicle, enthusiasm in his every step. he approached the boys with a warm smile and gave each a quick hug. he introduced all of those who weren’t familiar with one another (which was essentially everyone), making sure to add in a “yeonjun, this y/n- ah, wait, my mistake,” kai giggled, patting yeonjun and y/n on their backs, moving over to spark conversation with beomgyu and soobin.
“y/n,” yeonjun turned to y/n with a smile, taking in her appearance, mentally describing it as ‘breathtaking’—though he had a feeling he’d think that regardless of her stylistic choice. “you look great,” he watched as she reflected his smile with the compliment, responding to it with a greeting hug.
“thanks! you look… ok i guess,” she chuckled at her own joke, only making his grin even cheesier.
“i take my compliment back.”
“are you guys done flirting?” beomgyu faked a barf as he peered outside of the building’s entrance, and the pair realized they were the only two still outside. “we’re waiting!”
y/n rolled her eyes, strolling inside and beginning to talk with beomgyu as they walked to their designated booth. yeonjun followed close behind, ears red as he listened to beomgyu tease the girl about him. he’d be lying, though, to say his stomach didn’t slightly turn at her lack of reaction to beomgyu’s words. she quickly brushed them off, and he could make out something along the lines of ‘calm down gyu, we’re just friends,’ and then moving on to casual talk. ‘so how’ve you been? it’s been forever since…’
kai held open the door to the biggest karaoke booth the business had. multicolored strobe lights and the tv screen with a variety of song genres lit up the booth, and a disco ball was hung overhead. the group filed in, choosing seats on either side of the booth. y/n glared at yunjin as she pushed y/n towards yeonjun—after whispering “nuh uh, you’re not sitting next to me”—which forced her to grab his arm for support.
“sorry, jun. tripped,” she awkwardly laughed, looking at yunjin wide-eyed a second time. she shrugged, mouthing “it’s for your own good,” and turning to go sit next to winter, kai, and soobin.
“if you wanted to sit by me that bad you could’ve just asked,” he winked, making y/n’s cheeks flush pink. she found herself understanding the “player” rumor winter mentioned, the thought making her giggle.
“whatever,” she said, her flustered state blocking her ability to think of a better comeback. she plopped next to yeonjun on the padded bench.
this is gonna be a long night, y/n thought to herself; for better or worse she wasn’t yet certain. kai interrupted her thoughts by loudly singing some twice song she couldn’t make out due to his volume halting her brain cells’ activity.
yeah, no, definitely for worse.
AS THE NIGHT progressed, so had the voice cracks and drink intake (kai, being extra, had ordered the ‘luxury drink package’), which caused everyone to loosen up and talk as though this hadn’t been their first time meeting.
at this given moment, taehyun was wrapping up their stay at the karaoke booth with a cover of ‘obliviate’ [iu]. y/n’s 2nd job may be criticizing her younger cousin, but the second he started to sing she retired; she couldn’t disregard his pure talent. she’d always wondered why he didn’t choose hybe, especially when he’d been accepted with open arms. he’d always respond with something about ‘a more concrete future.’
besides marveling over taehyun’s voice, y/n had partaken in having a drink or two… or five.
sadly (or, alternately, rather happily), drunk y/n’s victim was none other than choi yeonjun. he’d only had enough to drink to make him tipsy at most. he would later thank himself for that decision, allowing his memory of the night to be crystal clear.
before taehyun had gone up to sing, y/n and beomgyu (who was equally as gone as she was) finished doing a duet of ‘switch to me’ [rain, jyp]—which the group would later agree as being the most entertaining song of the night—and was sitting back down next to yeonjun.
“ever thought about being a singer?” she looked at him and giggled.
“no, i’ve thought about being a dancer though.”
“yeah?” he grinned. “when?”
“umm, like two weeks ago, when i found out you were one,” yeonjun bit his lip to hide the embarrassingly wide smile appearing.
“i’m that much of an inspiration, huh?”
“i mean, sure. i meant because you’re reeeally hot, though,” she put a hand on his shoulder. “like, really hot. i seriously think you’re the most attractive man i’ve ever seen. and imagining you dancing? i’m gone.”
i’m gone, yeonjun thought. he was glad she was too tipsy—and that it was too dark in the booth—to notice his face practically glowing red.
“jesus, y/n,” taehyun muttered next to her, before going up to sing.
“she’s not gonna remember this tomorrow is she?” jay laughed.
“what? look at him!.. oh my god, i can’t, yeonjun stop looking like that,”
“can’t, sorry.”
“i hope you know how stunned i was when i saw you in person… like sure you looked great online, but then i saw you in front of me and- i dunno,” once taehyun had finished singing, the group erupting in applause, y/n continued. “yeonjun?”
“y/n?”
“do you ever think about what would’ve happened if we got together freshman year..? like, god- it’s a stupid question, because, like, what freshman year relationship lasts? oh my god do you remember taehyun’s? he posted all those ‘depressed’ snaps on his story after,” she nearly cackled.
“i have thought about that before, yeah,” he smiled tenderly.
“ok, good, i’m not a freak. honestly, that was all i thought about after you moved, like ‘am i an ass?’ ‘should i have said yes?’, because, well, i liked that other guy… what was his name..? i don’t even remember, but he sucked. like how do you suck in freshman year??” she leaned back into the bench, using her cardigan like a blanket, smiling to herself.
“anyways, sorry if i’m ranting, i may be a little drunk right now-”
“really? never would’ve guessed,” yeonjun responded, earning a playful shove from the girl.
“hilarious, yeonjun, you’re hilarious. i’m drunk, so i’m gonna pretend i didn’t catch the sarcasm,” she hiccuped before continuing. “anyways again, i thought about that for a while the night after we went to the diner, which i loved by the way, really good job. but i was laying in bed, wondering if we would’ve lasted..? and then i remembered you moved, so probably not, but if we did, i’d be one lucky girlfr- oh my god, i don’t think i’ve done duolingo today. jun can you hold this?” she handed yeonjun her drink, but he nearly dropped it.
“yunjin! what’s ‘apple’ in french again?” y/n shouted, scrambling over to the other side of the room to sit next to her. he watched as she smiled with yunjin, winter, and kai, screaming at them for their awful memory of french vocabulary.
“you good?” soobin took y/n’s seat, following yeonjun’s gaze. “yeah, it’s bad huh,” yeonjun could only nod, his eyes soft and mouth slightly ajar. “are you drooling..?”
y/n had left choi yeonjun speechless.
THE DRIVE BACK to the dorm would’ve been peaceful, had soobin and yeonjun not lived with beomgyu, who had been singing the entirety of the ride.
“how is he still going?” soobin, the designated driver for the night, asked yeonjun, who’d had a goofy grin plastered to his face. “ok so what’d i miss? you’re smiling like you just won the lottery. or, better, a lifetime supply of pillsbury doughboy rolls.”
“we have pillsbury doughboy rolls??” beomgyu paused his singing to ask.
“no,” soobin responded flatly.
“aww. can we get some then?”
“no.”
“aww. can we get some later?”
“maybe.”
“aw- wait that’s not a no!” soobin pinched the bridge of his nose. how he’d become the father of a 22 year old, he wasn’t aware.
“yeonjun? hellooo,” soobin waved his hand in front of yeonjun’s face without taking his eyes off the road.
“sorry, i just-” he pursed his lips to hide the growing smile. “she was drunk, obviously, and ranting about how attractive i am…”
“that’s what this is about? hasn’t she accidentally slipped that to you like 8 times?”
“no, no, that’s not it. she started talking about how ‘if we had gotten together and lasted until now, she’d be a really lucky girlfriend.’” he looked at soobin, and soobin had to laugh at the pure joy on his face.
“yeah, it’s definitely bad.”
———
A/N 🌷 is this... a yj x y/n progress crumb? 😱 also quick thank u for the continued support on this story, it means a lot! i love each and every one of u reading this mwah
#beomgyu#hueningkai#soobin#txt beomgyu#txt huening kai#txt smau#txt soobin#txt taehyun#txt yeonjun#yeonjun#txt texts#txt#my txt#txt post#yeonjun x reader#yeonjun smau#kpop smau#kpop#tomorrow x together#kang taehyun#choi yeonjun
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won't say i'm in love gr63
get a grip y/n. look at you, falling for a guy with two first names. curse you george russell and your gorgeous green eyes that lure you in and your muscles that for some reason make me starstruck every time i see them.
for some reason you make my stomach feel so strange like there is something in there, and no before you say anything, it’s not butterflies. no, it’s probably just me feeling sick whenever i see your face because you annoy the hell out of me, yeah that’s probably it, definitely not anything to do with me maybe possibly just the tiniest bit in love with you. that's simply not possible.
i don't even know why i continue to think about this topic, this possibility that i, even in the slightest, could possibly love, no like a man like you. especially not when no man has ever made me feel like this.
how come the first man that makes me feel as if i'm someone is george freaking russell? the same george russell that pushed me off the goddamn track and ruined my chances of getting a world champion title. the same george russell that would always seem to roll his eyes and scoff at anything i would say when interviewed together.
how could i ever feel such a thing for a man that angers me so very much? or am i just overexaggerating everything? maybe we're just close to the border that separates love and hate. either way i'm sure it's just a little thing, i'm sure it'll pass soon and that way george russell will just be another one of the 19 drivers that i have to go against every weekend. i'll just remember him as someone that was part of that weird phase that everyone goes through.
i mean if i was wanting to start a relationship with someone why would i choose someone that i spend so much time with, someone that i literally have to compete against every single week? it just doesn't work and besides all that it's george russell.
it doesn't help either that i always have lando and alex down my ears going on and on about how george and i are "made for each other". oh how i wish they would realise that nothing is ever going to happen between us, even though that would be nic- what am i talking about.
every time lando and alex bring him up i can't help but listen to the 'proof' they have that something is brewing between me and number 63 and i have to give them credit because sometimes it even has me believing in the possibilities. i mean the last time they spoke to me, for the rest of the day, i was constantly blushing and getting flustered every time george would pass by me, occasionally brushing against each others sides. but nonetheless i will forever see george russell as nothing more than competition, which once again shows that we would never work out, how can you love someone and yet still want to punch them so hard in the guts.
even if i were to possibly like him, i wouldn't dare ever say it out loud, not a chance. i mean how cliché is it that the girl who swears she absolutely hates this one boy ends up falling for him in the end.
and it's not as if i don't understand the self sabotage i'm doing to myself, i've been through this before and by now i thought my heart must've learned its lesson, to not fall in love, but no here i am falling in love with him.
and yeah maybe it will feel so good in the beginning, having someone that treats you like a queen, desperate to impress you so they can reel you in but then it turns sour but it's strange because it's almost like a nice sour, oh i really am desperate.
i know how wrong this is of me, feeling as if i've committed a sin, for falling for someone, especially a man like george russell, a man i was committed to hate for the rest of my life, though i can’t seem to help myself.
i can’t help that he has the most gorgeous eyes and the most perfect face and soul and i most certainly cannot help it that whenever i’m around him, my stomach seems to explode into a hundred pieces.
i can’t help it either that george just won’t seem to leave me alone, no matter how obvious i make it that i want to put some distance between us, making it practically impossible for me to not find him a little pretty.
i thought i’d learnt my lesson from the rollercoaster of my last relationship, where it starts out peaceful and lovely and then you suddenly want to rip your hair out in frustration, crying your eyes out at the stupidity of the situation.
though it seems i had not.
of course i didn’t.
and of course the reason i find myself falling is because of george william russell.
brilliant.
though i’ll never say it aloud. never. i can’t let myself fall for another person, not when i know i could get hurt. i want to say something but surely this is all just an exaggeration, i’ve just never been able to tell the difference between love and liking someone in a platonic way.
yes, that’s it, i’ve just finally come to the realisation that me and george are friends and that’s this feeling that i’m going through.
oh, let’s be realistic y/n you love him.
but i will never say it out loud.
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Mine (George Russell)
To some people, George Russell may seem someone with a hard exterior, and if people were to guess they would never bet on the driver to be the softest boyfriend out there
Note: english is not my first language
I got inspiration from these 'soft promps' lists on pinterest x
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and although I'm not taking requests per se, if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so!
Tw: curse words
Unfortunately, your day off had not coincided with George's in the slightest, he thought as he took his coat off, hanging it and then taking his shoes off to put them back in their place. Noticing the flat was quiet, and looking at his watch, he thought that he would be lucky if he found you awake, knowing how much you enjoyed your sleep and the low light coming through the bedroom door indicating that you were in there.
"Careful with that step, okay?", George said as he stretched his arm to help you down a usually covered step in the park. George had pulled it off again, a perfect date for the two of you consisting of a picnic in the late afternoon, your boyfriend choosing a calm area of the park to set the blanket down, you both sat and unpacked the food and drinks from the basket George had prepared, "they didn't have that wine we both really like at the shop so I got the next best thing", George said, "this is amazing, my love, thank you", you said once you finished unpacking, placing your hand on his cheek as you pulled his face to yours so you could kiss his lips, "I love you so much", you said. Offering you the same affection, George smiled at you, "No need to thank me, we are here for eachother and you've had a rough week, I thought we could spend some time together and enjoy these warm afternoons while they last", before he grabbed a carrot stick and brought it to your mouth.
As he opened the door slowly, he found you sitting up on the bed, book in your hands as you finished the page you were reading before placing a bookmark in, "Hello darling, how was your day at the factory?", you asked as he made his way to greet you with a kiss on your forehead, "just one of those days full of things. I'm not complaining because this is what I dreamed of doing and I knew what it entailed but it's still tiring", he said as he grabbed entered the bathroom to brush his teeth, "and how was your day? That is not the book you were reading yesterday, is it new?", he asked as he took his toothbrush to his mouth, "I finished the other one this morning, and now I'm reading the one your parents got me for my birthday, and so far it's really good", you smiled, the eye bags you noticed on George's face calling for easy talk and a calm night. After he finished his routine in the bathroom, you watched him change into a t-shirt and some shorts before he got inside the bed with you, your arms going to embrace his body and hopefully relieve some of the stress, "and tomorrow I have a full day too, I have to be in London for a meeting, then I'm going to the factory and back to London again, I have no idea when I'll be home with you, only dinner most likely", he sighed, "I'm sorry I wasn't here today and probably tomorrow", he looked into your eyes, "No worries, bubs. It's your job, nothing to apologise for, but why don't we settle this like this: I can make some dinner so when you get here there's warm food, and we can relax for the evening. I'll see if I can wrap everything at work for the day and then we'll just relax", you said as you kissed the moles in his cheekbone, "Does that sound good?". George let out another sigh, but unlike his first one, where he had been worried and wanting to let his frustration out of his system, this one was filled with much more positive feelings, mostly love and admiration, "you just make everything a little bit easier, don't you?", his hand travelled to your waist, squeezing the skin there as your bodies got impossibly closer as you both stayed in silence, little kisses and affection shared as you fell into deep slumber.
.
You feel into comfortable conversation while you ate, "the sky is a very pretty colour", you mused as you looked up, the orange and pinks colours blending together perfectly as you took the scene in, "this is so beautiful", you whispered. George looked at you, at how despite the toll from the events of this week you were still smiling, the creases in your eyes accompanying the big smile on your lips as your cheeks were a bright pink, the moles on your face noticeable given the lack of makeup you were wearing and instead of refraining himself from steching his hand to your face and playing connect the dot between them, he stretched his hand to grab your chin. Grabbing your chin he tilted it slightly downward so your face could be leveled with his face as he pressed his lips in yours, "I'm the luckiest guy ever because I'm able to call you mine", he said smiling between kisses.
.
When Cara asked her brother if you could babysit her kids for an overnight stay, you didn't need to think twice before saying yes, both you and George always happy to spend time with the kids. So that's how you ended up at the park, little bags of duck food on your's and George's hands as you helped the children feed the little ducks that swam close enough to the edge of the pond, giggling with them as they pointed over at the animals who kept coming back for food, "that one must be really hungry, isn't it? He already came here twice", you heard George say to his niece, a gasp accompanying his speech as they fed the ducks the rest of the bag as you helped his nephew since he was younger than his sister and had a special liking to you, "Now throw that to the duckies, good job buddy!", you cheered as he smiled at you.
"How about we go for a walk and I can get us some more water?", George said after rummaging through the backpack he insisted on carrying until now and finding that the bottles his sister had filled for the kids were now empty from all the activities and walking you had done, "I'll go with you uncle George", his niece said as her brother looked at you, "can I stay here with you? I'm tired", he pouted as you nodded George to go along, "Why don't we go and sit on that picnic table there under the trees? Uncle George and your sister can see us from there and they'll join us in a bit", you pointed as he agreed, grabbing your hand as you made your way there.
When you placed the backpack on top of the table, you heard some birds chirping away, and it looked like the little boy had heard them too, "Oh, Where's that coming from?", he asked as his mouth formed an 'O' and his hand pointed to his ear, "we have to investigate! Do you think it's coming from the trees?", you acknowledged the possibility, the both of you looking up to see a nest with little birds and the rest of the branch covered in birds too, "I think I found them, look!", he pointed to where you were looking, "I want to see closer", he added. Getting up and grabbing him, you were able to secure him high on your torso, "I'm not as tall as uncle George, but I say we make it work with what we have", you said to the little boy about your attempt to help him see the birds a little better. You were commenting the different colours and sizes of the birds, expeculating which was was the grandma pigeon, George's nephew deciding it was a brown one who seemed to be asleep, when your boyfriend and his niece got back, "what are you looking at?", George asked as he pressed a kiss at the side of your head, "Uncle George, look! There's a family of birds here", he pointed as George grabbed his nephew and settled him safely on his shoulders, holding the boy's legs over his chest to prevent him from falling and have a better view, "Here darling, now I can hold you", you said to his niece, holding her where her brother was and since she was taller, your help was actually useful.
When you got home, you got started on dinner while George entertained the kids, hearing their noises from the kitchen as you stirred the pasta one last time before bringing everything to the table, "Guys! Food is ready", you said as you heard George's "I'm going to be the fastest to get there", before the kids ran through the corridor and into the dining area, George noticeably walking slower than ever, "I was last? No way, I thought I would beat you guys! Does this mean I get no dessert?", he pouted, looking at the three of you, "It's alright uncle George, I can give you some of mine", his niece said sweetly as her brother agreed to also give him a "tiny bit", earning a big smile on his face as he winked at you across the table.
While you agreed to clean up in the kitchen, George was in charge of bath time and it only lying took a few loud laughs for you to assume that the whole "quick wash to get rid of the remnants of a day full of activities" had probably turned into something else. As you walked into the bathroom, the kids had some foam beards and were now helping George get one as well, "I never knew you wanted to grow a beard, love", you chuckled as your boyfriend turned to face you, still kneeling in front of the tub, "How do I look?", he asked as he channeled his inner model (not like he needed much to rival any man on a magazine cover), earning a laugh from everyone in the room as they played with the foam for a bit until the water got cold, "C'mon now, out of the bath", George ordered as you each grabbed a towell to wrap each kid in, bringing them to the double bed on the guest bedroom, the one they would be sleeping in, and getting them dressed in their pajamas. "Can you both read us a story?", they asked as you and George sat on either side of them as George stretched his arms so you could see the book, alternating with him in the different characters' voices and after a few books, both kids were asleep.
Kissing both their foreheads and tucking them in, you checked that the bed guards were properly placed before exiting the room and heading to the living room, George setting up the game on the TV, "now it's time for the adults", he said as he handed you a wheel shape, the remote safely placed in the middle of it as he grabbed your hips and made you land on his lap, "and you're staying right here", he said as he kissed behind your ear and neck while his arms joined near your tummy, his eyes flickering back to the TV to open Mario Kart and choose a track and a character with his remote, the two of you staying in that position until you'd had enough of the game (and maybe when you had won enough times to make George question his habilities).
.
You had been able to join George for the weekend, arriving early on Saturday and catching FP3 that was 20 minutes away from beggining. You were grabbing a pair of headphones from the radio wall when you saw Evan, one of George's team members that you hadn't seen in a while, a since he seemed to not be doing anything work related, given that they were just waiting to go, you made your way over so you could speak to him. George was putting on his helmet when out of the corner of his eye he saw you try to stretch you leg over one of the special benches they had, "Darling no, don't do that, that's not safe", he said as he went over to you, his long legs allowing him to grab you so fast you hadn't even registered he spoke, let alone any of its content, "I'm not that strong, George, I don't think I'll break this", you joked as he helped you get to Evan's side, "I know you won't darling, but this has wheels in it and if you had placed your foot wrong you could have fallen, that's all. Then you'd have to go to the hospital and I honestly would prefer that you didn't go there", he said half heartedly, not wanting to seem like he was scolding you as he was only worried for your well being. Holding his hand in yours, you kissed his nuckles before assuring him, "I know, I'll be more careful next time, thank you for worrying about me", as Evan wished a good race, someone else already calling George to get inside the car, "It's either this or wrapping you in bubble wrap, so that will have to do", he said as he pressed a kiss you your forehead, noticing there were no cameras around, before he got in the car.
.
George's grandparents had invited the family over for a BBQ during the summer break to gather the whole family over a lovely afternoon with food to spare and good company. Sitting in one of the sofas on the garden, you were talking to Allison, George's mother, about your latest project at work and how things had been going on with you two, "we've been really busy, with everything going on, either he was a new meeting because they're changing something in the car, or I'm called up because no one else can do that task and it's me they need, and it really took a toll on us, I'm so glad I agreed to wait for my holidays now so both of us could enjoy his break, because otherwise I think we would drive eachother mad", you chuckled. You had been really lucky with how well you got on with your boyfriend's family, especially his mother, who always offered a kind word of advice anytime you needed it, "It's no joke when they say it does take a bit to make a relationship work and keep it going for many years", she said as she looked at her husband, the brief moment not going unnoticed by him as he winked at his wife, "but you're both handling it really well, as always. As a mother, you always wonder how your children's relationships are going to be if they decide to be in one, and I remember thinking about how George seems this hardshell person, you know? Hard to crack and get to the kind and respectable young man we raised him to be", Allison mused. As you knew what she was talking about. When a friend had introduced the two of you, you couldn't have been more clueless about F1 besides the name of the motorsport, and when a very handsome young man sat at the table at your mutual friend's birthday dinner, you have to say you were a bit struck by how he was a bit tense a first, not really letting anyone on until he started feeling more comfortable and recognising some of the faces there to the point where yours was the only entirely new one, making you stretch your hand out to him, "Hi, I'm Y/N". Later in the conversation, your friend mentioned something about a race and, as you looked over to George after he answered, he quickly got the idea that you did not know what he did for a living, and he couldn't help it that it made him like you a little bit more and, despite the hard exterior he seemed to present to the world, it only took you two dates to dig in to the incredible man he is. "Absolutely, I mean, I don't think many people in the paddock would believe me if I told them George Russell can cry at some movies and show many emotions, not that I'd tell anyone because I quite like it that he is like this", you said, smiling at your boyfriend who waved at you from his spot where he was talking with his siblings, "It's weird, but it makes it more special that it's just us that know about it, and that feel it", you concluded your thought as you decided to get up and join them.
"How nice of you to join us, I was just telling them this funny story, don't spoil it mum because I've told you already", George's sister started, "I swear I wasn't like this when I was their age, the other day, the kids grabbed our hands and said 'Mummy, daddy, we have been discussing between us and we are ready to have a baby brother or sister' can you believe this? They're ready, the parents have nothing to say about it", she said as you all laughed at the situation, "they wanted to show you that they approved the situation and they were comfortable with it", you chuckled as you felt George's arms hugging you from behind, his hands interlocking with yours as his thumbs rubbed your hands, making you smile up at him and squeeze his hand in yours, interlocking your fingers together with his, "It's your fault your kids are so smart, they take after their mother, what were they supposed to think? They really are quite clever", George replied teasingly. Cara looked at her mother before facing her youngest brother, "you be careful with those jokes because at this rate you're the next ones to be noticed that they're ready and comfortable to have a cousin", she said as she excused herself once she saw her children fighting over a bubble making handheld machine. George nudged his chin on your head, catching your attention, "I know we have a few steps still to go, and there's plenty of time but, with our genetics, our children will be both smart and witty, so we better get ready for that handful", he looked for any sign of doubt on your face and was instead presented with your glimmering eyes, "I'm sure they'll be fine, I've managed to crack you so I can only hope they'll get my temper, otherwise we are in for a ride indeed".
#george russell imagine#george russell fluff#george russell × reader#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic
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sidewalks we crossed [side A: you.]
i started writing this over a year ago and never got around to finishing it; it’s meant to be a three-part thing. so maybe if i post the first part, i’ll be inspired to finish the rest. this wasn’t written to be shared with the public, mostly just for myself (which is why some of it can be cringey), but here we are anyway. hehe. happy birthday lee jihoon! 태어나줘서 고마워!
pairing: lee jihoon/woozi (seventeen) x f!reader
genre: romance, fluff
summary: an accidental like, an off-chance comment, a purposeful message. you were in an unrequited love with your childhood best friend and decided to run away from him and your feelings and years later you find yourself in the same city with the same feelings when he stalks your instagram.
rating: 13+
length: 23k (LOL)
tags: idol!jihoon, childhood friend!reader, unrequited love (but not really), reconnection through instagram, this is just different scenes pieced together (including a ton of flashbacks), reader’s nicknames are all bug-themed, reader has depression and it manifests as suicidal ideation sometimes, this is basically real life (aka seventeen exists and debuted 150526), but the years are a little bit off for the trainee period, jihoon left busan later and trained for shorter for the sake of my story hehe, cursing, pining, mamamoo + ateez are the besties of reader, member x member pairings, jihoon and reader are both dumbasses, reader is extremely book smart but has one brain cell when it comes to romantic feelings, jihoon writes music like he’s been divorced 12x, word genius lee jihoon, idk how doctoral degrees work, i only got my masters and it was a non-thesis track lol, also idk how trainee auditions work either, miss communication is a lady we all know too well, super cute soft shit too tho tbh, no beta we die like men, i spent 5 hours trying to format this for tumblr and i’m still unsure
inspired by “drivers license” by olivia rodrigo and “what kind of future?” by woozi
inspo spotify playlist found here!
side A: you.
“Are you insane?”
If it were months ago, you would’ve winced at the harshness in his tone, but you’ve hardened yourself with resolve, almost saddened that this was the most communication you two have had since, well, you couldn’t recall. “I’ve been contemplating this for a while now.”
“But you didn’t talk to anyone else about it!”
No, you thought bitterly.
You just didn’t tell him.
“I’ve already talked to my parents,” you spoke coolly.
He scoffed. “As if they’ve ever actually cared about you and your life.”
You felt anger flare up with a cold dousing of shame. “And what—” You spat. “You do?”
“Wha—of course I do! I’ve always looked out for you! I’m your best friend!”
Bile rose in your throat. “Best friends wouldn’t flake on every single hang out to go off and spend time with their favorite noona—!”
“Don’t you dare pin this on me.”
Your eyes shot up to his.
Cold. Piercing.
So unlike the bright crescents you were used to him having around you. He used to shine in your eyes, never too bright, but in a way that demanded your attention as you basked in his almost ethereal glow.
You were reminded that the moon has phases. And maybe that meant it was time to start anew.
Even if it meant disappearing from sight.
A heavy silence passed over the two of you.
You prepared so many answers to the questions you thought he would bombard you with.
What?
You were going to a prestigious international academy several thousand miles away.
When?
You were leaving in two months.
How?
You got a presidential scholarship.
Why?
Because you loved him so much it terrified you.
You had all of these answers.
But it didn’t matter.
Because he didn’t care enough to ask.
The tears couldn’t even form in your eyes. You knew it would be selfish and manipulative if you did. He always felt responsible when you cried.
“You can’t leave,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” you said.
A lie.
“You can’t just fucking leave.”
Leaving him, the unspoken message.
“Y/N, you— ”
“Let me go. Please.”
You heard his breath hitch.
You forced yourself to smile softly at him, wanting to ignore the visceral pain in his tensed jawline, widened eyes, and clenched fist. You knew the irreversible wound you were inflicting. Your resolution almost shattered at the prospect.
Almost.
“I’ll keep in touch.”
Another lie.
“Don’t bother.”
You supposed you deserved the door slam that followed his footsteps, not even allowed to watch his retreating form.
You closed in on yourself, finally letting the tears slip down your cheeks quietly.
He would be fine.
He always was without you.
Always will be.
Only a week later, in the comfort of your childhood bedroom nestled in the midst of Busan, did you receive the news from your neighbor a few streets down.
Jihoon decided to go through with moving to Seoul to become a trainee. I hope you can come by to congratulate him! His father and I would love to have you at the party!
Questions ran through your mind.
How long has he been thinking about this? Did he ever mention wanting to become an idol? When did he even apply to become a trainee? When is he leaving? Is he cut out for trainee life? Is he going to make his own music or be forced by his company to make inauthentic music? Is he going to remember to eat his meals? Will he be okay?
You paused for a moment.
Was this because of you?
You realized it didn’t matter.
You weren’t going to get the answers you wanted.
You didn’t deserve to.
You deleted the message.
―――――――――――――――――
Years later.
“Man, fuck this thesis work.”
“Careful, if they hear you say that, they might pull your funding out from under you.”
Hyejin glared at you, her lashes unceremoniously sticking a little too high up her eyelid. You wondered whether she knew there was no point in wearing makeup everyday when her only company was her pipettes and centrifuge. “God, sometimes I wish I was in your major.”
“You would wanna read about things like depression and emotional incompetence?”
“Why not? I see it all the time in my major. God. I was at a drinking party the other day—” You winced in advance. “And I just want you to be aware that if you were to include STEM majors in your sample, your EQ mean would drop so fast.”
You hummed in acknowledgement. “Alright. Fair. To be honest, though, my research focus is mainly on the public and government’s responses to providing resources for group homes and how to make transitioning a little easier. I’m hoping to garner more attention and funding in order to do more activism. So, technically, I don’t actually measure EQ. Although, I can make guesses based on the public forums that are out there.”
“All I heard is that you’re an absolute saint.”
You laughed. “Maybe to you, unnie.”
“D’you wanna get schwasted tonight?”
“I can’t. I have book club.”
“God, you’re such a fucking nerd. Why am I friends with you again?”
“I distinctly remember you saying it was to, quote, ‘ruin me.’”
“Seven years later and I still haven’t.”
“I dunno about that. I started watching that drama you recommended and my sleep schedule—”
“Isn’t it so good?”
You laughed as she started parroting off lines from the drama and you agreed after much coercion that, yes, the second-lead was indeed a better fit.
Your phone pinged beside you and you stole a quick glance. Your breath hitched as Weverse popped up on your screen. Your pulse slowed down to a normal rate when you realized the notification was from “RM 🌟”.
Maybe you should just delete the app.
You turned your attention back to the girl who was your first college roommate back at Yale, where quick introductions were made, and not a second later, began laughing at the prospect that your RAs probably put you both together for being foreign students from South Korea.
She was much more refined back then, having already spent an entire year on her own as a Yale undergraduate, but your burning flame managed to craft something entirely new; just as she, like a river running its course, smoothed out your rough edges over time.
She led you back home.
Back to South Korea.
Back to him.
―――――――――――――――――
“You said you don’t break promises, Y/N.”
You found yourself grimacing. “Jihoon, that’s not fair—”
“Fair? Y/N, I kicked your ass at darts and now you said you wouldn’t keep your promise.”
“I don’t want my first ever tattoo to be whatever that is!”
“You pinky promised, Y/N.”
Your bottom lip jutted out. “I can’t even tell what it is.”
He stared down at the napkin he drew his artistic rendition on and then looked back at you incredulously. “It’s a firefly. Are you blind?”
You blinked. You could see the wings? Maybe? And those are lines that represent glowing? Not some weird excretion? You held your tongue and asked a more appropriate question. “Why a firefly?”
“I dunno. Seemed fitting. We always go see them together in the summer. They remind me of you. You remind me of them. That’s all, I guess.”
“Aw,” A toothy grin spread across your face. "You think I light up the night?”
“Sure, if you want.”
You could tell that Jihoon was getting embarrassed and wanted to immediately stop talking, but you being you, refused to let it happen. You piped up with your typical know-it-all attitude, “I read somewhere that fireflies represent inspiration and guidance. And hope, I think.”
He looked you straight in the eyes.
Your heart leaped into your throat.
“I guess that’s you, firefly.”
―――――――――――――――――
And here you were, in Seoul, a knowing pang in your chest that constantly reminded you of just how close he was. How your relationship always was. Close in proximity, but always left you wanting something more. Something else.
You blinked up at her, a knowing look in her eyes.
“Y/N—”
“I know,” you blurted out.
“You just look like you’re on the brink of a panic attack every time you see a Twitter or Weverse update.”
“It’s not that bad,” you grumbled.
Hyejin’s features softened.
Your chest tightened. You hated that look.
Pity.
“Actually, unnie. I’ll join you tonight. Screw book club.”
A knowing smirk spread across her lips. “Alright, bumblebee. My EQ is high enough to realize you’re running away from your issues, but it’s low enough that I won’t do anything about it.”
“I’ll add that to my data then.”
She flicked your forehead.
―――――――――――――――――
You groaned as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, staring down at Hyejin’s bare legs wrapping themselves around your torso.
God. How much did you even drink?
You untangled yourself from her limbs, quickly checking her skin to make sure she didn’t have a repeat of three years ago when she somehow convinced you to let her get a tattoo of the two paper clips emoji on her inner bicep.
“They represent us, bumblebee.”
“How, unnie?”
“We’re like… leaning on each other.”
“That’s... so beautiful, unnie. Thank you.”
You shook your head fondly at the memory, staring at your own addition of two paper clips on the opposite bicep, sans the alcohol in your system. So, who’s to say which one of you is worse than the other?
You tried to unlock your phone but the brightness did too much damage to your eyes to where Face ID couldn’t recognize your look of disapproval. You quickly swiped the brightness all the way down to read the time.
5:43am
That meant you only slept an hour and a half after getting home.
You peeled off the skin-tight clothing your roommate had so lovingly forced you into and grabbed a loose fitting tee and shorts. You knew you had the weekend to recuperate since you’ve completed your work ahead of your deadline.
You poured yourself a glass of water and emptied it in the span of 10 seconds. You could feel your brain recovering from its shriveled state, as if the water seeped into your skull and was being soaked up. You wondered if Wheein, your ridiculously cute neuroscience major friend down the street, would be able to explain why that is.
You hummed to yourself as you grabbed another glass of water and a reusable metal straw before making your way back to your room, where Hyejin was convinced that your bed had healing properties since she never woke up with a hangover when she slept in your space.
“It’s like you just have this homey superpower.”
“Okay, unnie. Please stop eating your hair when I’m trying to feed you toast.”
You set the glass at your bedside table and decided to go through your phone’s notifications before rousing Hyejin awake.
You scrolled through the notifications, mostly people making sure that you both got home okay, Wooyoung sending you a money charge with the caption: I may have ordered you the taxi, but you’re paying for it. Love you noona xoxo
You scrolled until you saw a lone notification from Instagram (why? you haven’t posted in two weeks?) that nearly made you drop your phone in the same way your heart did.
[04:17] wzljh__ liked your post
Your hands shook as you stared at it.
You took a screenshot.
(Just in case.)
You clicked on the notification that took you straight to the post wzljh__ liked.
It was a random post from three years ago when you studied abroad in Japan during your junior year, where you were praying in front of a temple for, according to your caption, “to be able to change the world… and also get into a PhD program.”
You clicked on the usernames that indicated who liked your post. You couldn’t find the familiar handle anywhere. Secondhand embarrassment rushed through your veins and passed as quickly as it came.
You came to three conclusions at once.
1. Lee Jihoon reactivated his Instagram.
B. He didn’t block you.
III. He stalked your profile.
―――――――――――���―――――
“Y/N, I really don’t think—”
“Jihoonie, I need to get more likes on my post. Therefore, I am making you this profile. You don’t even have to go on that often. Okay? You can deactivate it once I go viral enough to have the world at my disposal.”
“That’s never going to happen—”
“Believe in me more, would you?”
“Why should I?”
“Because I believe in you.”
―――――――――――――――――
Jihoon immediately reprimanded you, telling you that you didn’t need to appease anyone as a sixteen-year-old (God, he really was too mature for his own good) but your whining had him yielding once you promised that you’d catch up on One Piece over the weekend and that you would make a bento for him.
He only ever posted once (at your request), but he did like every single one of your posts back then, although, no one would know since those were all archived (for the sake of preserving your current social life by preventing the increase in Hyejin’s arsenal of embarrassing photos of you).
Only months later did you have that falling out and his deactivation quickly followed. You believed he wouldn’t ever reactivate his personal account, especially with his woozi_universefactory account set up for Pledis, which, even then, was hardly posted on.
You clicked on his profile to see the anonymous profile picture still there. You saw his followers list and saw only four names.
That once familiar wave of jealousy that plagued you for over a decade never came when you saw her name. It dissipated a few years back after a night of confessions and mascara stained tears, hushed whispers and muffled sobs tucked away in the corner of a Busan bar in the middle of winter.
You checked his following list and saw several musical artists as well as your own handle.
Wait. Where was hers?
You navigated to her page to make sure you weren’t completely delirious and your brain slowly caught up with your eyes.
He wasn’t following her.
You typed in her username to find her profile. Immediately, her beautiful smile shone brighter on the page than the dimly lit screen could do justice.
You never hated her. She was a confidant and a beloved person in your life. Still is. You were all childhood friends (along with your cousin) with deep ties and connections, although the same could not be said for you and Jihoon currently.
But you hated how it all turned out: she didn’t reciprocate feelings towards Jihoon, but didn’t have the courage to properly reject him either.
Because, who would ever want to let him go?
You did, your mind supplied.
You bit your tongue and wondered if Jihoon found out that she was proposed to by your cousin just over a month ago, the one who she spent her childhood years pining after.
Maybe that’s why he’s not following her anymore.
―――――――――――――――――
“Y/N.”
“Shh, Jihoon. I’m concentrating.”
“On what?”
“My wish!”
You felt a tug at your earlobe and your fourteen-year-old self squeaked out, “Why!”
“What’re you wishing for?”
“I can’t tell you! That’s not how wishes work…”
He let out a gruff noise and sat across from you, his bright red shorts and white shirt were definite contrasts against the dirt surrounding your two small bodies.
“I’ll tell you one of my wishes.”
“Wait, really?”
“Yeah. If you tell me one of yours.”
“You first.”
“Ladies first.”
“I asked and it’s only polite if you answer.”
He huffed. “You never make any sense.”
“Yes.”
He rolled his eyes before he cast his gaze down in a boyish way that was just so charming, you too had to look away. “I want the courage to be able to confess my feelings before it’s too late.”
You stared at the river and wondered whether it was deep enough to catch all the tears that wanted to spill themselves from out of you, the image of her coming to the forefront of your mind.
“Firefly?”
“Hm?”
“What about you?”
You forced a smile as your eyes met his.
“I want to be friends forever.”
You knew wishes would never come true if you said them out loud.
―――――――――――――――――
“Jesus Christ! How long have you been standing over me like a fucking creep?”
Your trip down memory lane was interrupted by Hyejin’s screeching. You promptly rolled your eyes. “Get up, Princess. I got some water for you.”
“I’m gonna spill it on my face—”
“I brought a straw too.”
“How about a diamond ring? Because if you popped the question, I’d say yes immediately.”
You resisted the urge to smack the smug grin on her face and pushed the water over to her. “You would want a diamond, wouldn’t you?”
“All-naturally mined. No lab made stuff. Spent enough time there myself. Don’t need a ring to remind me of it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind to tell Wheein—”
“Shut up.”
“You’re right. She probably already knows. Being childhood friends and all.”
“Shall I remind you of your unrequited childhood love?”
“‘S not the same,” you responded automatically. She raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t even seen him.”
“What? We rewatched their Melon performance literally two days ago, what the fuck you mean you haven’t seen—”
“I meant in person, unnie.”
She clicked her tongue. “And we went to the SEVENTEEN concert seven months ago. We would’ve gotten the fan sign too if you weren’t being so damn annoying about it.”
Your flustered response was enough to make Hyejin laugh at your expense. “I-I just wasn’t sure whether he would’ve even wanted to see me!”
She paused at your words.
You blinked owlishly at her. “What?”
“You used to say that you knew he didn’t want to see you. Now you’re not sure? What happened while I was passed out?”
You gulped.
She set her glass down quietly, a soft smile that seemed misplaced surrounded by her strained features.
“Bumblebee, take a seat.”
You promptly fell to your knees, feeling like explaining the situation would be akin to confessing your sins.
You only hoped she wouldn’t damn you to hell.
―――――――――――――――――
“Just slide into his DM’s.”
“Hell no.”
“Don’t talk to your unnie like that.”
You scoffed. “I’m not going to slide into his DM’s like some sad bitch who’s been yearning for over a decade.”
“...but isn’t that exactly what you are?”
You were so close to throwing your mimosa across the table. Too bad the American-inspired restaurant you were at only had half-off drinks during the weekday happy hour. You weren’t going to waste your full-priced flute of champagne and orange juice.
“Give me your phone.”
“No.”
“Bumblebee, I promise I won’t message him. Just give me your phone, I want to see his profile again.”
You took your pinky, made an ‘X’ over your heart with it, pressed the tip against your lips, and held it out for her to do the same.
“God, what are you, 5?”
“Pinky promises cannot be broken. If you break them, you break my trust.”
“You know, for someone who’s studied Psychology, you sure believe in a lot of non-evidence-based practices.”
You emphatically made your point by bringing your pinky closer to her. She sighed and hooked hers around yours. “Satisfied, bumbles?”
“Always, unnie. There’s something beautiful about how the biggest of promises are made with the littlest of fingers.”
The corner of her mouth quirked up at that.
She took your phone and turned it to where you could see her every move. She clicked Jihoon’s profile and went to his first and only post, already liked by your sixteen-year-old self.
She looked as though she were scrutinizing the caption. You expected her to try and formulate an idea of him that was separate from his stage persona.
What you didn’t expect was for her to unlike the post and quickly like it again.
“UNNIE!”
“Oh, bumblebee, I think you would have broken the sound barrier with how loud that was.”
You were too busy having a meltdown to realize the whispering voices around you, giving pointed looks of disdain. Hyejin smiled at everyone and bowed slightly in apology. She tossed your phone at you.
“You said you wouldn’t—”
“I didn’t message him, did I?”
Your mouth went dry while your tears welled up.
Hyejin recognized the consequences of her actions immediately. “Whoa, hey. Y/N, it’s okay. It’s okay. It’s fine.”
“You don’t get to decide if it’s fine or not.”
She flinched back at your harsh tone.
You stared blankly at the phone in front of you, the once red heart, drained white, and filled again with color in the span of a microsecond.
Your watery eyes met Hyejin’s concerned gaze.
You bit your lip. “Can you pull out your phone?”
She froze. “Why...?”
“Because I’m going to eat everything off of this brunch menu and you’re paying for it, so you’re going to have to make a transfer from your savings now.”
“...Yeah, okay. Fair.”
―――――――――――――――――
“They’re both cooked dough with butter and syrup.”
You gasped loudly. “Jihoon! Blasphemous!”
He gave you a deadpanned look. “Y/N, you mean to tell me that it’s really that important whether I decide between pancakes or waffles?”
“Waffles are obviously superior! They have little pockets that cradle the syrup, with crisp edges and fluffy insides!”
“There’s literally no one here that’s arguing against you right now.”
“I need you to agree with me!”
“No, you want me to.”
You plopped back down into the booth, shoulders slumped at a lost cause.
“...would it make you happy?”
“What?”
Jihoon cleared his throat. “I asked if it would make you happy. If I agreed that waffles are superior to pancakes.”
You stammered, a blush creeping up your neck at the question. “Uh, no. It was a dumb debate. I was just trying to be annoying. I—”
“It’s okay to let yourself be happy even over the dumb things, firefly.”
You twiddled with your thumbs and bit back the goofiest grin as you heard Jihoon call the waiter over to order your shared waffle platter, asking for, ‘enough syrup to fill each little pocket’.
You never saw Jihoon eat pancakes after that day, always opting for the obviously superior choice.
―――――――――――――――――
The joy of eating butter and carbs and sugar from that day was not enough to sustain you through the week once you realized you had a paper deadline that was sooner than you remembered.
Your eyes ran over the words again, nearly questioning your sanity when it felt like you spent the last thirty minutes trying to reorganize your paper in a way that was cohesive. You spent so much time unlearning the APA 6th edition format to relearn the APA 7th edition, and then moving back to Korea made you throw all of that out the window. Therefore, your mind was a jumbled mess of DOI numbers and misplaced periods.
This paper was due in less than a week and you still found yourself questioning whether the literature review was comprehensive enough to cover all twenty sources you were required to include. Two pages. A list of twenty sources that took up approximately three-fourths of your second page. A singular paragraph of literature review on peer-reviewed articles studying the risk factors of suicide in Korean adolescents before needing to address implications and future research and potential programs that could address these issues.
“Nothing is real,” you muttered to yourself.
You glanced around the library and noticed a scarcity of other human beings. You groaned to yourself as you realized you hadn’t moved from your seat in over eight hours and the library was due to close in ten minutes.
You wanted to stab yourself in the neck when you remembered you still had the Social Welfare 101 class’s papers to grade. You knew that they needed feedback on their writing and you also knew they saw you as a pushover, so the papers are very likely lackluster, especially since the class was filled with people who were trying to get their Humanities credit for their degree in another field.
“Become a doctor, they said. It will be worth it, they said,” your hushed-tone almost mocking.
One of the other TAs from the Educational Psychology department had offered to take some of the grading from you, knowing that you had several large projects due soon, but you quickly brushed off the offer, saying that you could handle it.
A few stray tears slid down your face as you felt overwhelmed by the entirety of the last four years. You graduated early from Yale and dove straight into a doctoral program you could have easily put off by working for a few years.
You removed your glasses and buried your face into your hands, allowing yourself five minutes of reprieve. Just five. Before you needed to pack up and get back to work.
Why are you trying so hard to prove yourself?
―――――――――――――――――
[tw: suicide mention]
“Social work is a useless field, Y/N.”
You grit your teeth. “Eomeonim, I—”
“Did you think I wouldn’t see your interview in the school newsletter? Saying you want to go to Seoul National University and study social work? No daughter of mine is going to go into a field that has no chance of finding a job that makes money. You think that your Abeonim and I will be supporting you for the rest of your life? What will the neighbors say, huh?”
“Eomma—”
“No, you do not get to call me that, you ungrateful child. I did not work as hard as I did to put you through the additional tutoring and classes I have for you to just betray me like this.”
Bile rose up in your throat and you choked back the tears threatening to spill.
“Oh, and there she goes, being dramatic again. You don’t think I feel like crying too? You want to become a social worker? You want to help people? How can you do that when you’re so selfish?”
Your nails dug themselves into the meat of your palms, but not hard enough to cause pain, not when your nervous habit of biting them whittled them down to stubs.
“Get out. Come back when your head is clear.”
You moved, but not too hastily so as to signal her to your anxiety, for you were just a prey and she was the apex predator. You kept your gaze downcast and zipped up your designer brand backpack before looping your arms through the pristinely kept straps. Your family had a reputation throughout the town to keep. And you were the heir to it all.
All of the glamour.
All of the charisma.
All of the pressure.
All of the pride.
All of the distrust.
All of the insecurity.
All of the underlying self-hatred.
You shut the door behind you softly and wrapped your arms around you, letting your feet carry you to the one place you knew you could find solace.
Once you arrived, picking a fallen leaf off of your skirt, you knocked weakly at the window pane.
Jihoon glanced up from his desk and made his way to open it for you. “Hey, firefly.”
You quietly slipped through the frame.
“Bad day?”
“Do you ever, just, think about stopping?”
Jihoon blinked once. “Stopping what?”
“Life, I guess.”
He remained silent and he uncrossed his arms so you knew, at least physically, he was open to listening to you. This wasn’t the first time you brought up this subject to him.
“I could just end it all, Jihoon. I could just have it all be over. My parents wouldn’t have to worry anymore. They wouldn’t have to be so disgusted by the fact that they birthed such an ungrateful and selfish child.”
Jihoon breathed deeply through his nose. You knew how much it stirred up his insides whenever you talked about this, but he would reiterate that your safety was always more important than his comfort.
“I should just do it, right? That’ll prove something to them. That’ll show them that they’re not the perfect people everyone makes them out to be. They drove their daughter to this. Oh, but. They might just use it as an excuse to garner more attention. Woe is the perfect family in Busan, they struggle with loss, just like us. But… I could just end it all now. It could all be over, Jihoon. I have that power.”
“You do, firefly. You could end it all.”
Your head shot up so fast you nearly got whiplash. You were expecting soft!Jihoon, not whatever this was. You spluttered, “I’m sorry, what?”
“You’re the one who said it.”
“Are you saying I should just do it then?”
“No,” Jihoon said evenly. “I’m just saying that you do have that power. But you also have the power not to. You have the power to continue on.”
“But I don’t want to.”
“But you have to.”
“I don’t have to do anything, Jihoon!”
Jihoon clicked his tongue at your raised tone. “Whoa, hey. You’re the one who always says you have to jump through hoops in order to ‘earn’ love. I’m not the one who taught you that bullshit; go talk to your parents about that.”
“But they’re right!”
“No, they’re not.”
“Shut up! You don’t know me!”
“Y/N, I have spent more time with you than those sorry excuses of parental figures ever have!”
“Those are my parents!”
“Yeah, and they’re assholes!”
“You’re the one who doesn’t know! They’re the ones who see me, who know me best. They raised me. They know how disappointing I am. They know how useless I am. They know! They’re the ones who know just how unworthy I am!”
“God! Why do you care so much?! Why are you trying so hard to prove yourself?!”
You sucked in a sharp breath. Your bottom lip trembled as your voice came out, horribly fragile, a complete contrast to your sharp tone from just moments ago. “I… Because it’s me, Jihoon. I’m either too much for people or I’m never enough. So, I have to do everything perfectly to prove that I’m worthy. I have to be better than anyone else. Because I have to make up for the fact that it’s me.”
You were openly sobbing.
“But… you’re not better than anyone else, firefly.”
You tried to muffle your tears enough to hear Jihoon’s voice over your crying. Your eyes met his and you expected to see pity, but instead, his facial expression remained as neutral, a steadfast look in his eyes amidst all of your wavering.
“Firefly, you suck at Super Smash Bros. You’ve never won a game against me. Not even one. In like, ten whole years. Also, you’re really bad at timing when ramyeon noodles are done. You always overcook them. You cry when you see a fat seagull waddling down the shoreline. You can’t eat spicy food to save your life. You use too many emojis when you type. You can’t even jog 100m without wanting to pass out. You get so angry that you blow up at others and shame them for making you angry, but you hate it when people are mad at you. You refuse to share your food when it’s still warm, but force me to finish it when you’re full. You don’t trust others enough to do their part of the work so you never let anyone else help you. You have a nervous habit of saying stupid random facts when a pretty girl talks to you. You once poured milk before the cereal. You’re full of flaws.”
Your lips were pressed in a thin line, but the tears had ceased approximately halfway through his listing of your traits.
“You are not the best. By any means. Mediocre, even.”
“I’m kind of hurt.”
Jihoon snorted. “You don’t know everything, firefly. You’re not always going to be the smartest in the room. You’re not the best that ever existed. You never will be. But you’re never too much. And you’re always enough. And although your parents and nearly every adult in this town could think otherwise, you will meet people, people like noona, like hyung, like me, who will still care about you even when you’re being a shitty little brat like you are now. People who will still care about you even when you’re not number one.”
“…You don’t know that.”
“Neither do you.”
―――――――――――――――――
“Do you ever think about generational trauma?”
Hyejin gave you a sideways glance. “Do we need to pull out the therapy chair and the rosé for this?”
You swatted the offer away. “I’m serious.”
“What d’you mean then, bumblebee?”
“I just think about my parents and the pressure that was probably put on them from their parents and the parents before. But with each generation, no one decided to try and break the cycle. They just kept taking their hurt and putting it onto the next. It’s just… I don’t know. It’s not just my family. It’s prevalent… everywhere. Did you know that South Korea has one of the highest rates of suicide in all of the OECD countries, second only to Lithuania? Common risk factors among adolescents tend to be academic pressure and family issues. So. I know it’s not just me. The numbers don’t lie.”
“Is this related to the paper you were working on earlier?”
You pondered for a moment. “I think researching adolescents and suicidality might’ve triggered some old memories, yeah.”
“Are you…?”
“Okay,” you finished her question. “The thoughts only come when I’m feeling overwhelmed with stuff. And it being our last semester, it’s just… a lot is being demanded of us. Classes, projects, thesis defense. I’m feeling, I dunno, a little helpless.”
“Hmm, I’m remembering some wise words from my undergraduate roommate at Yale~” Hyejin said, in a sing-song voice. “She said that the best way to stop feeling helpless is…?”
You glared.
“The best way to stop feeling helpless iiiiiis…?”
“...to ask for help.”
“Wow, right on the money.”
You decidedly messaged your fellow TA to ask them to help alleviate some of your workload to which they happily agreed.
Which you only gained the courage to ask for after a straight-winning streak in several online matches of Super Smash Ultimate.
You weren’t mediocre.
You just realized he wasn’t either.
―――――――――――――――――
Just a few days later, on a rare weekend where you managed to pull away from schoolwork, you found yourself in the attic of the group home you worked on-and-off at for the past four years, sorting through boxes of tattered toys, gathering the ones necessary to put through the washer. You laid down on the floor, the rickety boards beneath you groaning at your weight. You passively wondered whether a cartoon moment would happen and the group home inhabitants would find a you-shaped hole in their ceiling.
You reached into your own backpack and pulled out your own toy of sorts. You threw it up in the air only to let gravity do the work to bring it back into your hold. You had to be careful to not give yourself a black eye like you did a few years back.
“Whoa, you played baseball?”
You glanced at the tattered ball in your hand, the stitching almost undone, the yarn beginning to peek through. The color was no longer a pristine white, but that only proved its history of handling. “Choi Sannie, what about me says ‘athlete’?”
“Hey,” your younger coworker put his arms up in defense, fully climbing into the attic space now. “I know all of the things we have here at the home, and that is definitely not one of them. So that means that’s yours. Or you stole it—” He gasped loudly in delight. “You stole—!”
“No, dumbass.”
He deflated. He knelt down on the floor next to you, inspecting the baseball without taking it in his hands, careful to not overstep your boundaries. You taught him all about consent; Choi San was a wild child, but he knew respect. “May I see?”
You tossed it casually over to him.
“Is this handwriting? I can barely read it.”
“Even if it was brand new, I promise that handwriting would be illegible to the average person anyways.”
“You’re not average though.”
“Of course not.”
“So, what does it say?”
“Gwangan-dong, Busan, August 2.”
“Was it a gift?”
“Yeah.”
“From who?”
“An old friend.”
“Why keep it?”
You hummed softly.
“For the days that feel like I’ve lost.”
―――――――――――――――――
Lee Jihoon was a boy who demanded attention. And he always had it. But not because he would go parade and peacock around for the sake of trying to earn it. He naturally caught it, with collected looks and smooth words. Everyone in your town knew him: his ability to work hard and even more, his ability to achieve. He never needed to do anything to garner more attention because all of it was already on him. Even at the perfect attention-craving age of thirteen.
Lee Jihoon would never show off.
You had been to every single one of Jihoon’s baseball games, cheering silently when he made a great call, throwing mental expletives when things were going awry. You knew his mannerisms, his tells. Hell, you even knew the code for when the coach beckoned his players to steal a base.
So, you knew when Jihoon was showing off.
You wanted to gag at the sight of him puffing out his chest while he wore his catcher gear. You often believed him to be beyond this world but the reality quickly slapped you back as you wondered why exactly he was being so obnoxious.
Your unnie turned to you, “It’s almost over, yes?”
You wanted to laugh at the fact it seemed like she aged an additional year for every inning. “Yes, unnie.”
“I don’t understand how there’s no timer.”
“It’s done by the number of outs.”
She nodded, but you knew she didn’t actually take it in, since you repeated that fact three times over the course of the past two hours.
“Our Jihoonie’s doing well, right?”
“Yep, as per usual.”
“I really don’t understand baseball, lovebug.”
You pat her shoulder. “It’s alright. I don’t mind telling you. Although, you might want to ask oppa more about it. He knows more than I do. He messaged me and said he’ll be here in about five minutes so he can take us all out for dinner after.”
She froze. You quirked an eyebrow.
You noticed the redness creeping up her neck.
“Oh my God. Unnie! Do you like my cous—?”
Before she could say anything to defend herself, you felt the bleachers around you shift in tandem and you nearly toppled over until she caught you.
Your eyes found Jihoon, who was holding the ball that sealed their fate: they won. He won.
You saw him and his teammates gather together, his mask coming off to reveal his black hair sticking to his forehead and his ever-so-brilliant smile.
Oh no. You were so smitten.
After several moments of trying to push through the crowd, you finally reach a place where you spot Jihoon animatedly speaking to your unnie, who managed to get ahead of you by several paces.
You immediately froze.
Even from this far away, you could see his eyes clearly. Of course, you could. You were so practiced in searching for them, in times of joy, in mourning, in dancing, in sorrow. In those dark irises, swirled something so raw, your breathing became ragged. You saw the way he looked at her. You knew the look in his eyes.
Because you’d caught glimpses of it in yours in passing mirrors whenever you were with him.
How long did it take you to realize?
Suddenly, you wanted to be anywhere but there.
You rushed backwards, much easier to run away than it was to charge forth. You ran and ran and ran until you reached the back of the bleachers where you crumpled down onto your knees, effectively getting grass stains on your poor clothes.
“Mommy! Mommy! There’s someone crying!”
“Baby, no—let’s go over here.”
“She’s an ugly crier, like you!”
You cursed the fact that children were basically sober drunks and said whatever was on their mind. The fateful “u” word that repeated itself obsessively in your mind.
You thought of your unnie.
Your beautiful, elegant, sweet, soft unnie.
Of course Jihoon would prefer her.
He was pulled into her gravity with no room for resistance. His crescent smiles faced her, never to show his dark side, for she was the earth he orbited: captivating and delicate.
Why would he even care to ever look your way?
You were a given; never a prize to be sought. You were unrefined and blundering in your demeanor. You were on the crux of puberty, an awkward and horrendous time that consisted of your skin deteriorating, hormones running rampant, and just. So. Many. Emotions.
Ugly.
“Whoa, whoa, ladybug, is that you?”
You glanced up, not even bothering to wipe away the dribbling mess that was on your face. Your cousin stared in horror at your tears.
“God, you look horrible.”
A broken sob ripped through your chest and your cousin quickly realized he made a mistake. He scooped you up into his arms and held you as you cried, cried, cried.
If jealousy was the ugliest trait, you must have been downright hideous.
Later, you had your face tucked into your cousin’s chest as he apologized to Jihoon and your unnie, who both reached for you, but your cousin, in his typical knight-in-shining armor fashion, brushed them aside and pulled you closer. He convinced them that you received some off-putting remarks from your parents and didn’t want to talk about it (a regular occurrence), so he would take you back to his place to cheer you up with some Disney movies and freshly squeezed lemonade.
Your unnie offered condolences and a swift pat on your head before she called her dad to come pick her up, all of you waiting until she drove off.
Jihoon spent the time waiting listing off a myriad of your needs (“You have to make sure you have the double Kleenex, okay? The other ones leave weird fuzz on her cheeks. And don’t let her wash the dishes when she’s sad because she doesn’t realize how hot the water actually is and ends up rubbing her skin raw. And make sure you use simple syrup for the lemonade and not just sugar, she hates the crystals.”) while he packed his gear away, preparing to walk back on his own, his home not too far away from the baseball field.
You felt your cousin squirm at the prospect of Jihoon having to carry all of his gear after playing a two-hour game and having no food in his stomach. “Wait—Jihoon, I can give you a ride.”
He looked back at him, glanced at you, probably noticing the way your shoulders still trembled, and shook his head firmly.
“Here, firefly.”
Your body reacted before your mind could catch up to realize what it was doing. You saw a small object in the air, falling within your arms reach.
So, you caught it.
Your eyes trailed up to meet his, momentarily forgetting he was the sole cause of your meltdown.
His jaw clenched so hard, you cowered slightly.
“Why are you giving me this?”
You cringed at the sound of your voice, gruff and raspy.
“It’s your win today.”
You blinked rapidly. “Huh?”
Jihoon sighed and you wondered if he just considered you a petulant child.
“Even when you feel like you’ve lost, even when you feel like you have nothing to gain, just the fact that you’re still here, that’s a win. So. Scream. Cry. You can do what you want. It’s your win.”
Your gaze trailed down to the baseball, too large to wrap your fingers around entirely. It was much denser than you thought it would be, the weight foreign in your hands.
You sniffled, the corner of your mouth upturned.
Before you could say anything, Jihoon immediately turned on his heel and walked away.
You looked up and caught your cousin staring at Jihoon’s retreating form with a bemused look.
“Alright, ladybug, let’s get you home. Your parents are probably preparing dinner right now.”
“You promised Disney and lemonade.”
Your cousin sighed dramatically. “I guess I did,” he ruffled your hair to which you let out a prolonged, annoyed groan. “Which movie?”
You pondered for a moment. “Hercules?”
You thought of Jihoon and his reputation throughout your town: attention-grabbing, diligent, admirable, heroic.
But most of all, kind.
“You got good taste, ladybug.”
―――――――――――――――――
“Does today feel like a lost day?”
You resisted the urge to mess with the singular faded green streak running through San’s hair, a test subject from when Hyejin wanted you to dye her hair, but you didn’t want to try it out on yourself nor buy a synthetic wig. A rebellious eighteen-year-old was the best option at the time. “No. It doesn’t.”
“Then why do you have this?” He inquired again.
“Because I can do what I want, San. It’s my win.”
He pulled a face of indignation at your rare (at least to him) display of childishness. Your phone pinged on top of your thigh, alerting you to its presence.
[12:42] wzljh__ liked your post
You bit back a grin, knowing San would question you endlessly if he caught it. So you tucked it away, for a later time, where you could be alone and smile as widely as you wanted to. He was getting more and more bold. Hyejin’s action, you knew, was what spurred him on. You wanted to laugh in disbelief.
Lee Jihoon was a man who demanded attention.
And he always had it.
―――――――――――――――――
“No, no. Noona, you promised.”
“I did no such thing.”
Wooyoung scoffed at your words. He pulled out his phone and his nimble thumbs quickly found what he was looking for, signified by a soft ‘ah-hah!’. “You said you would help me try and secure BTS tickets. You’re the only other person that I know that has the ARMY Membership.”
You glanced at his screen and saw your drunk state and you resisted the urge to keel over at the sight. You heard your slurred words promising the very thing Wooyoung was asking of you now. “I wasn’t sober enough to realize what I was saying. Also, what kind of person films their drunk friend and coerces them into promising to get BTS tickets?”
“I never said I was a good person, noona.”
“Ask San or Seonghwa.”
“They don’t have the ARMY Membership,” Wooyoung repeated, emphasizing the last two words. “I’m out here trying to secure the front section. It’s close enough to the stage where I can see Jimin-hyung’s sweat without the screen.”
You grimaced. “Weird ass fanboy.”
“You cannot deny that he is a beautiful man,” Wooyoung said pointedly. “Although, I assume your type is like 15cm shorter and a muscle bunny.”
“He’s only 11cm shorter, sir.”
“Okay, okay. Keep defending your boyfriend.”
You spluttered, instinctively responding with what you said for most of your middle and high school days to those around you. “He’s not my boyfriend!”
Wooyoung gave you a ‘duh’ look. “No shit. You’ve never even met him because you refuse to get the fan signing tickets because you’re a weak ass coward.”
Well. He was definitely right about one of those things. You often forget that you’ve kept your history with him private from most except Hyejin.
(And Wheein.)
(Because Hyejin told her.)
(Luckily, Wheein is a lot more considerate than her boisterous and loose-lipped counterpart.)
“Wooyoungie, you’re really not making me want to help you here, you know.”
“Noona, please.”
He looked at you with his wide brown eyes and jutted out his bottom lip. The thick black frames on the bridge of his nose gave off the impression of innocence, something you would never again associate with the young man in front of you.
His eyes lit up once he visibly saw your determination crumble.
You bit your lip. “You’re paying for this pizza. And we get pineapples on it.”
“I love you~ You are a goddess I am unworthy of even perceiving~ I worship the the ground you walk on, O sweet and kind deity~”
Your mouth twitched. “A ‘thank you’ would suffice.”
Wooyoung looked at you, a serious look in his eye, took your hand and squeezed it. He gave you a smile that almost melted away your disdain. “Thank you, noona.”
“Men like you give women trust issues.”
“Yeah, probably.”
―――――――――――――――――
“I couldn’t express my feelings because I was too young. I wanted to be your tomorrow, so I lived today. Ever since the first day I saw you until now, in my heart, it’s only you. These typical words, I’m only saying them now. But I hope these typical words will reach you. Thank you, thank you. That’s all I can say. Even all the waiting, all the longing. And all of our memories. Thank you, thank you.”
You half-hoped they would perform this song, half-hoped they wouldn’t. It rendered your heart weak, almost wringing it through with the lyrics and melody, the implication. There was a deep yearning within you that wished these lyrics could have been for you, once upon a time.
You hid yourself with a black face mask and wore a baseball cap. Hyejin told you that you were making yourself look even more conspicuous by wearing such garb, but you couldn’t risk being noticed. You wanted to see him, but in a way that didn’t require vulnerability. Plus, your tears were easier to hide.
Hyejin held your hand, her fingers intertwined with yours, the two of you uncharacteristically calm and still unlike the other CARATs around you, all of whom were cheering and swinging their lightsticks in tandem.
She gave your hand a tight squeeze.
You thought back to what was seemingly a mundane day, going on one of your grocery shopping trips at a Trader Joe’s while still living in New Haven, Connecticut.
The days leading up to your shopping trip, you were a mess of a human being, weighed down by the amount of work you still had left to complete, hardly able to be present in your own life, instead simply watching it go by. Hyejin took over your chores for the week, bought you sweets, stayed up with you even if she finished her own work, made sure to send kind text messages randomly throughout the day, and was all around the best supporter you could have asked for.
You kept apologizing to her for not being able to reciprocate, the only words that your mouth had the energy to form were, “I’m sorry.” And she would, each time, just pat your head with a soft chuckle and say, “You don’t have to keep saying that, you know. You don’t have to say that you’re sorry.”
But you weren’t sure of what you could say instead, so you said nothing at all.
Your grocery trip was made to be more of an adventurous outing that matched the energy that you were able to procure, as cooping yourself indoors only intensified your feelings of stress. However, you were on the mend from the disastrous week, as you finished up your work the day prior to your little trip to the grocery store.
(You couldn’t help but think your ability to even leave your apartment was because of Hyejin.)
After gathering all of the ingredients to cook carbonara (with extra pancetta!) and loading them up in your car, Hyejin offered to return the shopping cart to its designated location.
You saw her from afar and suddenly something overwhelmed you.
You knew what to say instead of: ‘I’m sorry.’
“Bumblebee?”
“Thank you.”
Hyejin gave you a raised eyebrow. “Yeah? Of course.”
“No, I mean...”
You paused. What did you mean?
Did you even have a right to express yourself? That’s all you seemed to do during the week and it was almost embarrassing trying to say something now. Like, this wasn’t the right time and place. The butter was melting in the car.
“Actually, never mind. Don’t worry about it.”
I couldn’t express my feelings because I was too young.
She gave a pointed look and said, “Uh. Alright.”
But something tugged at you.
A gentle reminder from a gentle person with a seemingly rough personality.
These typical words, I’m only saying them now. But I hope these typical words will reach you.
If he could do it, so could you.
Before she could get into the passenger seat, you called out again, “Actually!”
She glanced your way, still visibly confused.
You took a deep breath. “Thank you for returning the cart. But, ah, more than that. Thank you for coming to the store with me. Thank you for spending time with me. Thank you for consoling me. Thank you for living with me. Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for staying by my side. Thank you for loving me.”
You couldn’t hold back your tears, so you didn’t. Your beloved friend did not fare much better.
She was in a state of what seemed like hysteria, laughing with tears streaming down her face. “What the heck, dude? What’s the matter with you? God, I love you so much.”
She took you into her arms and you both cried in the middle of a Trader Joe’s parking lot.
Your heart was filled with gratitude as the thirteen boys on stage interlocked their fingers in a pinky promise to love their fans. You mirrored the action as you took Hyejin’s pinky and interlocked yours with hers. She glanced at you and you gave a smile from behind your mask, trusting she knows what you mean. Trusting that she hears the promise you are making to her, to yourself.
Promising to always be thankful.
Promising to always love.
But if she could not hear the wordless promise echoing in your chest, you knew you would repeat it aloud to her for as long as she needed. To whoever needed it.
Because although those words may be typical, they were still worth saying.
That is a lesson an old friend taught you.
An old friend whose smile now shone as bright as the stage lights that lingered on his form.
―――――――――――――――――
Three weeks later, you were up to your neck in deadlines. You were demanded at every possible place you frequented. In the research labs, in the recruitment office, in your collective TAs room, in the group home you volunteered for.
Hypothetically, there should have been no room in your mind for Lee Jihoon.
Too bad you saw him everywhere.
Not just explicitly, like the way his idol group overtook the internet with selfies here and tweets there and ridiculous fan edit videos everywhere.
But rather, in the crevices of Seoul, in the freshly cooked rice found at your favorite family restaurant, ready to serve piping hot meals with heaping portions of a mother’s love, in the off-key melodies sung unapologetically by a circle of children in the middle of the neighborhood park, not caring who’s there to witness, performing for any and all, in the rhythm of the city thrumming beneath your soles and at your fingertips, ready to sweep you off your feet if you gave it the chance.
You saw him everywhere.
That included your notification center.
[15:32] wzljh__ commented on your post—
Your vision blurred.
Was this what cardiac arrest felt like?
A comment? A comment? You were plenty satisfied with the likes on your post, but a comment meant direct interaction, not mindless scrolling and double tapping.
The ringing in your ears was prevalent and you knew for the sake of your body and soul, you needed to shut it all away.
You pushed aside the thoughts, compartmentalized like they taught you during your clinical therapy program, and shoved your phone far into the depths of your unorganized bag.
You breathed in.
You breathed out.
You had work to do.
―――――――――――――――――
“Hey, so, it’s noona’s birthday on Sunday—”
“I know, Jihoon, you haven’t shut up about it for the past two weeks.”
“Okay, okay. Fine. But I’ve spent so long trying to find a gift for her and I still can’t find anything. Can’t you, just like, come with me to the market for the day? I’ve never spent so much time and effort trying to find a damn gift for a birthday before. I’ll buy us dinner and we can stop by that dessert stand with the black sesame soft serve.”
“I told you. I have college prep exams I have to worry about. You want to woo her? You can. Easily. Lee Jihoon, anyone would be lucky to be loved by you.”
He breathed out a long sigh. “...thanks, firefly.”
You gave a stiff nod before walking away, the singular cardstock invitation (since you only made one for him because he teased you endlessly for your homemade invitations in the fifth-grade and you committed yourself to spite him every year from then on) you scrawled a date on in two week’s time weighing heavily in your bag. You bit your bottom lip to try and prevent the tears from slipping.
Guess your birthday wasn’t worth putting time and effort in.
At least, that’s what you thought until you found a small package in your first-year high school locker on that fateful day, in two week’s time.
Inside a poorly wrapped box, you found a card and a keychain of three tiny medals: simply drawn hands interlocking at their pinkies, the infinity symbol, and a crescent moon.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you opened the card envelope slowly, afraid your shaking hands would accidentally tear apart the paper. The card was homemade and purposefully horrendous (he claims; although, knowing his crafting skills, you weren’t so sure) with his haphazard, yet endearing scrawl.
You read the words once. Twice. Three times.
Moved them away from your eyes so the tears wouldn’t fall and smudge them.
“I saw these charms two months ago and immediately thought of you.
You said anyone would be lucky to be loved by me.
Guess you’re a pretty lucky person.
Happy birthday, firefly.
- Jihoonie
P.S. I have a sun on mine, if you end up wanting to switch.”
And so you skipped the first ten minutes of your last class to fold in on yourself in one of the second-floor girls’ bathroom stalls. You muffled your cries against your sleeve because it’s just so utterly him that you couldn’t even think straight.
When he finds you after school, eyes puffed and disheveled, you half-expected him to comfort you, because it was your birthday and, to most people, that warranted special treatment.
Instead he laughed loudly at your tattered self, pinched your reddened nose with a grip you could say bordered on assault, and said, “Come on, let’s go get some cake and ice cream. I’ll pay.”
You glared at him. “You hate cake and ice cream.”
He merely grinned at you. “Not today, I won’t. You really are lucky to have me, aren’t you?”
Even with the way he teased you relentlessly for all seven blocks to the place you frequented when your pockets were lined with allowance, the dessert shop with the fresh cream green tea cake topped with fruit you knew Jihoon was gonna take when you weren’t looking, even with his eyes filled with mischief and cheeks filled with stolen strawberries, you couldn’t help but agree.
―――――――――――――――――
“He’s been pretty bold lately.”
You cocked your head to the side as you pulled your lunchbox out onto the cafeteria table. You spread the items out in an orderly fashion and Hyejin nearly sneered at the display, but you ignored her. “Hrm? What d’you mean?”
“I mean, he’s been liking more and more of your posts. He also commented today. Isn’t that bold? Considering you haven’t spoken in years? What happens if he’s just, I dunno, playing with you?”
You bit the inside of your cheek. “Is it dumb to say that it’s just a gut instinct that everything is okay?”
“Again, what is the point of your higher education? Gut instincts aren’t exactly evidence-based.”
You unwrapped your sandwich and your eye twitched at the sauce that dribbled down. Damn. You could’ve sworn you had the right ratio this time.
You took a bite, your tongue slipping out to catch the excess sauce. You chewed thoughtfully before swallowing. You mindlessly tapped your fingers against the bread before you spoke.
“I dunno how to explain it, unnie. I know all of my observations have been just… through likely scripted scenes and concerts. And I know it’s dumb to think that he’s still the same kid from way back when, but even seeing him interacting with his members… It just seems like he’s happy. Not just the superficial kinda happy, but the everlasting contentment and joy kinda happy. So. I don’t think he’s going to ruin that by trying to dredge up stuff that could ruin it. Or plot revenge. I just... don’t sense any ill intentions. And I never have, even when all that shit happened.”
“Hm… I honestly don’t know the guy, but it does just sound like he made one choice in an unfortunate circumstance. Big decision in the midst of big emotions,” Hyejin murmured.
“So did I,” you said pointedly.
She smirked at that. “Yeah, but you ended up with me, so I’m okay with your choice. But, also maybe, I just trust your judgment a little too much. But, if you consider him as wonderful as you say he is, then. I believe you. Plus, I feel like his lyrics and videos that I’ve seen are proof that he’s not a complete piece of shit.”
“Ah, yes. Thank you for thinking he’s not the scum of the earth.”
“Yes. Just a rung above that. If I ever meet him, I’ll definitely punch him. For your honor.”
“Hah. Thanks, unnie. I’m sure that your stick arms will do a lot of damage.”
“Of course.”
The two of you laughed.
Hyejin hummed. “Do you ever blame him?”
“For what?”
“Leaving before you.”
You raised a brow as you set your sandwich down to bring your attention to your apple slices, peeled in a way to make them look like bunny rabbits. After dunking it into some peanut butter, you decapitated its head with your teeth. “Blame is a funny thing.”
“What d’you mean by that?”
“I mean, think about it, unnie,” you began. “Do I blame him for leaving when I was the one who decided to leave first?”
Hyejin clicked her tongue. “But he left without even saying ‘goodbye’ or even warning you.”
“Mm, yeah. But... I mean, do I blame him for leaving before me when he could blame me for deciding to leave first? Or do I keep going and blame him for making me fall in love with him or could he turn that around and blame me for having feelings in the first place? Do I go further and blame him for defending me from bullies in first grade or does he blame me by trying to become friends by giving him a seashell? Do I blame him for being born or does he blame me for the same thing? Blame is an endless cycle and trying to pin the entire thing on one person or one event is hard. At least, in this instance, you know? There wasn’t a clear cut perpetrator and victim here.”
Hyejin picked at her nails. “You really have a different kinda brain, don’t you, bumblebee?”
You chuckled. “It’s gotten me this far.”
A silence fell over the two of you as you stared at your bunny apple slices, eventually fed up at the odd number of them and choosing to sacrifice one to your stomach for the sake of your peace of mind.
After a few moments, you spoke again.
“I used to be real angry with him.”
“Yeah, you told me you used to be a fiery little thing. Plus, I heard you blow up at that student athlete who was dishing out homophobic slurs near the Student Center. When you’re angry, whew. I wouldn’t ever wanna be caught in the crossfire.”
You snorted. “Yeah, well, he would often be. I don’t think you can grow up with and know a person for, like, sixteen years and not ever be angry with them. Especially when that person is a prepubescent boy who knows all the little things that grinds your gears.”
“God forbid having feelings for men.”
“Women aren’t that much better,” you reminded Hyejin. She paused for a moment before agreeing to your sentiment. You knew too many of the silly arguments her and Wheein have had over the past two decades.
“Honestly, though. I think he’s one of the only people I ever felt safe enough to even be angry around. So, he usually got the brunt of it all. Honestly, he should’ve left me faster. I was a mess to deal with at the time.”
Hyejin pulled a face at your self-pity. You merely offered a small smile and she rolled her eyes. “So, you were still angry at him when we were at Yale?”
You swallowed another apple bunny. “Absolutely. Remember New York?”
“Which time?”
You snorted. “Specifically the one where we went during the Fourth of July. Where I had hook-ups after hook-ups and had to get a pregnancy test and an STD screening. Where we went bar-hopping literally every night because I wanted to drown in my sorrows. The one that you got on that stranger’s shoulders to shoot off an illegal firecracker.”
“The trip where you got so drunk, you screamed at a man that turned out to be a statue.”
“Hey, in my defense, he looked like an asshole.”
“I’m sure many people would agree with you that Christopher Columbus is indeed an asshole.”
You both laughed.
Your voice lowered to barely above a whisper, Hyejin physically needing to lean in to catch your words.
“I… was angry that he made promises he couldn’t keep. I was angry that he decided to walk out of my life without asking to even try. I was angry that he didn’t even care to ask why I was wanting to leave. That he didn’t care enough to want to know what I was doing. I was angry that he dropped me so fast. I was angry that he moved to Seoul as a last ‘screw you’ because he didn’t want to try and talk it out. I was angry that he was angry. But above all, I was angry at myself that it took me so long to let myself even feel the anger because I blamed myself for everything.”
You let out a shaky breath.
“At the time, I had a sixteen-year-old’s anger and heartbreak and a twenty-one-year-old’s body and ID. So, that anger manifested itself into drunken nights of hedonistic debauchery and cursing out loud for the first time ever, right at a statue of a colonizing murderer.”
You thought she would laugh at your phrasing, but instead, she merely took you in. You wanted to shrink back at her scrutinizing gaze.
“Does it still bother you?”
“...No, not really,” you admitted. “I just woke up one day and realized that I missed him so much more than I was angry at him. At me. Eventually the anger just kind of… faded. I mean, he was hurt when I left. And if he felt like I was leaving him, then it makes sense he would try to do the same in some kind of twisted adolescent retribution. I’m not saying that either of us deserved that kind of treatment, but I mean, we were sixteen and dumb. As a former sixteen-year-old, any kind of change felt like the world ending.”
“As a former sixteen-year-old, I would have to agree,” Hyejin nodded. “Do you ever regret it?”
You shoved another sliced apple into the peanut butter. This time, not picking it up. You stared down at it as you tried to formulate your thoughts. You replied softly after some time, “No.”
“Nothing?”
Your mind trailed back to the time you spent chasing your dream of studying abroad, establishing your place in the world without depending every little decision on him, running after dream after dream and fulfilling them through your own power and accord.
And you thought, as beautiful as the experiences were, you wished you could share the stories with him. He was always your best audience member, applauding your every word and exaggerated action. Sometimes laughing and jeering and heckling, but always, always, always attentive.
You chased your dreams. You always have.
All except one.
But it was okay.
Because he gave you so much more in those fleeting years than the world could ever have supplied in millions.
“No, nothing.”
―――――――――――――――――
“Do you still love him?”
Hyejin watched you over the years. You grew and healed, evolved from a bumbling adolescent mess, bright-eyed and terrified, into a full-fledged woman who learned that all most had to offer was a quick fix and prolonged heartbreak. Someone who decided to be kind because she knew first-hand that the world was not. A woman who wanted to be a love letter from the universe. Someone so strong, yet so fragile to the workings of the world because you always allowed your heart to be vulnerable.
She never knew anyone who loved for the sake of loving.
Someone whose living was loving.
Not until she met you.
Your lips pressed into a thin line, but it slowly curved at the ends. “I think I always will.”
Hyejin’s heart felt constricted in her chest; she wanted to scream at you to let go and to move on. Tell you that he wasn’t worth any of the heartbreak and pain and self-doubt.
But she knew. She knew looking into your eyes, that you loved him with a love that transcended the flimsy, insecurity-driven kind portrayed in romantic comedies or Korean television dramas.
Because although she saw your eyes rimmed with unbrittled heartbreak, she also saw the gratitude that overflowed from your irises.
Part of her still wanted to berate and chastise you and tell you to just move on.
But she remembered being on the receiving end of that. How her friends reminded her that to be in an unrequited love was never worth it and that there were plenty of fish in the sea and that she needed to move on because it was just sad.
She remembered how empty that left her, wanting to fill the cracks in her heart with her beloved, because that was always what Wheein would be to her, just as Jihoon would be to you. Hyejin had the privilege to call Wheein at any time, to hear her voice lull her fears and anxieties into soft understandings and warmth, warmth, warmth.
Everyone told her to walk away from all of that.
Not you.
You were the first one to sit with her, hold her hand, smile and remind her what she already knew, a resounding truth in the depths of her soul.
And so, she sat down with you on the edge of your bed, grabbed your hand, smiled, and reminded you of one of your favorite quotes: “What a privilege it is to love.”
A tear slipped past as you beamed. “And to be loved in return.”
“Even for a moment.”
“Even if it is not how we want.”
“Because, still, it is love.”
“And it is the one thing we will never be without.”
―――――――――――――――――
“Two more months,” Wheein muttered before quickly downing her soju shot, not waiting for anyone else at the table. “Two months. And we’re done. No more needing to prepare for a thesis defense. No more needing to sit next to a centrifuge for ten hours at a time. No more needing to read bullshit and selfish opinions on public forums. No more needing to sit next to that weird dude who always smells like he has an open wound that’s infected—”
“Wheein, sweetie, that’s too graphic,” Yongsun responded, bringing her choice of a virgin cocktail up to her lips.
Wheein merely took a swig of the beer next to her.
Byul-yi shot her a glare. “That’s mine.”
“She needs it more, unnie, trust me,” you replied on her behalf. Byul-yi gave you a warning glance that wordlessly said you defended Wheein too much, especially as someone who was younger. “To be honest, I think Hyejin-unnie and I need to catch up to where Wheein-unnie is.”
“No, you need to pace yourself carefully especially with soju because you end up drinking too fast and way past your limit before you even realize.”
“Yongsun-unnie, I know we dated when I was a young and unassuming first-year doctoral student who didn’t understand how to handle her alcohol, but that was the past. Let’s move on, shall we?”
“Hyejin told me you threw up just a few weeks ago.”
“Goddamnit, Hyejin-ssi,” you hissed in mock anger.
She snorted, seeing through your ruse. “Wouldn’t have mattered if she heard from me. Byul-unnie was the one who was holding your hair at the bar, so.”
“Is this how I’m repaid by setting you two up together? The constant risk of potentially being exposed by one or the other? The betrayal. When I introduced the two of you, mere weeks after Yongsun and I broke up, and you two were blatantly flirting in front of me–”
“We were not flirting,” they chimed in unison.
The rest of the table rolled their eyes.
Wheein huffed and whined into her arms, voice muffled against the table. “Y/N, you gotta find me someone.”
“You’ll see them if you just open your eyes. I’m sure of it. They’re right there. Just look in front of you, unnie.”
Hyejin pinched your thigh but you were used to her physical torture.
Wheein groaned loudly, sitting up, but still covering her eyes with her hands. Byul-yi nodded in apology to Hyejin who merely bit her lip.
Yongsun dissipated the tension for Hyejin.
By directing it towards you.
“Y/N, I saw that you posted on Instagram yesterday. The same post from the group home you volunteer for. You were asking for the support of the community, right? And just today, I saw there were a ton of comments on their public page.”
A lump lodged itself into your throat and you stared at her, lips parting but not making any sound.
She cocked her head to the side.
Hyejin rubbed your thigh soothingly with her hand. “Bumblebee didn’t realize that they were going to get that many comments on that post. Plus, uh, I think it was shared by that one singer? Bamsu?”
“Bumzu,” you corrected weakly. Jihoon’s partner-in-crime, or rather, music production.
“Yeah, uh. Him. I guess someone who knows the group home page somehow managed to get it circulated to where he saw it, and… yeah.”
Several other research fellows messaged you privately saying how exciting it was to get the attention your project needed. Your group organizer was saying that tens of calls were coming in at a time, asking how to best provide funding or resources.
You resisted the urge to spiral into oblivion because you knew only one (1) person who would be able to do such a thing.
Bumzu had transitioned from performer to writer/producer and usually had a hand in charity work, at least, over the past couple of years, according to a quick run through his Instagram feed. He wasn’t under the scrutinizing eye of Dispatch, at least, not as much as a certain thirteen-member idol group. His interest in this program didn’t warrant sasaeng fans who would try to track down the people who made the post.
It was the perfect cover up.
It’s not as though Bumzu did anything over the top. He simply reposted the group home’s post on his story, only available for 24 hours, but even then, that was enough time to garner attention.
The group home leader called and cried to you saying that God had really blessed you all.
You wondered whether you should tell her that you didn’t think God was 164cm with moonlit eyes that haunted you in your sleep.
―――――――――――――――――
[15:32] wzljh__ commented on your post: “this is some really cool stuff. do u mind if i share this?”
[19:22] You replied to wzljh__’s comment: “👍🏼 go ahead”
―――――――――――――――――
“Noona~”
“Choi Sannie~”
“I don’t appreciate the mockery~”
“Then get your ass to work~”
San snickered before undoing your haphazardly done ponytail and threading his fingers through your badly tangled hair. “You need to calm down. You have a meeting soon and you look like an absolute mess. So, I’ll at least braid your hair for you, mmkay, noona?”
“San, if you want to reduce my stress, I would appreciate it if you could go and run through the program schedule and let me know what doesn’t work—”
He tugged on your hair and you yelped.
“Noona.”
You leaned back in your chair to see him staring down at you. You grimaced at the fact that, even from this angle, his jawline was inhumanely sharp.
“No one is expecting you to run everything. We have group organizers for a reason. You’re just here to volunteer.”
“But I want to help. I’m responsible for getting the word out there. And I want to be able to make a difference for those in group homes—”
“You did. You helped me. Now I’m in a local college. Working as a barista. Volunteering in the same home I met you in.” Before you could cut him off, San continued, “You can take a break, noona. I’ve never seen you this stressed out before. And I’ve seen you literally down an entire six-pack of banana milk after eating two chocolate croissants.”
“They’re called pain au chocolat. They have to be in the shape of crescents to be called croissants.”
“No one gives a flying shit, noona.”
You gaped at him. “San! Who taught you to speak like that?”
“You did.”
You grumbled to yourself before reaching back for your Apple Pencil. San snuck his hand over your shoulder to pluck it out of your hand. “Hey!”
“Jinwoo wants you to sing him to sleep.”
Your heart ached as you stared at the screen in front of you. There was too much work to do and you couldn’t afford—
“Are you really cost-benefiting the effects of whether you sing a child to sleep right now?”
“...”
“God, what a professional. Where’s the noona that would sneak kids out to go catch dragonflies and then eat bungeo-ppang while washing it down with banana milk?”
“Are all of your memories of me associated with banana milk?”
“I remember what I remember, noona.”
“Why don’t you sing to Jinwoo?”
“Because he’s asking for that song that you sing; the one that only you know.”
You froze.
For some reason, Jinwoo, at the ripe age of eight months, established quite clearly what he liked and disliked, with the latter list nearly double the length of the first.
Every song you sang to him had its expiration date before he would take a metaphorical red Sharpie and cross it off of his likes list.
All except one.
You cursed yourself for singing it so long ago, caught up in exhaustion that you just wanted to quell the baby’s cries as soon as possible.
And so you procured a song that was gathering dust from being long ignored in the recesses of your mind.
You locked your iPad, gathered your stuff together to put away in your bag, slung it over your shoulder and made it up the stairway to where you knew Jinwoo would be.
You found him nestled in several blankets on the floor in the room meant for three-to-six year olds, convinced that the ground would be able to keep him steady unlike the volatile day-to-day he was thrown into since birth. Most of the other kids were out at the local school, but Jinwoo had a lower constitution than them, so would often stay at home. The home did its best to ensure that his schedule was tied with the other kids, including the midday nap.
His chocolate eyes looked up at you expectantly, his arms outstretched for you to envelope him in your embrace. You couldn’t help but smile down at him and scooped him up in one fell swoop. He giggled as you spun the two of you around the room.
You swaddled him as best you could, a three-year-old much larger than the eight-month-old you once knew him to be.
His hand pressed itself against your cheek and you nuzzled your face against its warmth.
“Ready to sleep, Jinwoo?”
“Will you sing to me? The forever song?”
“Yes. Of course.”
And so you did.
You sang to him a song of hopes and dreams and the magic of forever and always. Lyrics of never-ending friendship and pinky promises.
―――――――――――――――――
May 26th.
You thought that date would forever ingrain itself as the day that he forcibly came back into your life by taking you and the rest of the world by storm alongside his group, singing of an awkward and clumsy adoration paired with a point choreography that was, well, pointing.
(At the time, you wondered whether she heard the song, the one you were sure it was written about. You never asked.)
But here you were, six years after his debut into the world as an idol, dressed in your regalia of indigo and black, full bell sleeves, velvet paneling, and a weird puffy hat to top it all off, debuting into the world as a Social Welfare PhD grad.
You were a whole ass doctor.
“WE’RE FUCKING DONE, BITCHES.”
“God, Wheein, can you calm down? We gave you that key for emergencies.”
“It’s an emergency that I don’t have a bottle of soju in my hand right now.”
Byul-yi patted Yongsun in hopes of appeasing her anger. “Remember when you finished your MBA and how that felt?”
Yongsun blinked once before pushing herself off of the couch. “Alright, so how many bottles am I pulling out?”
“Wait! Wait! Wait! We need a picture!” Hyejin chastised her childhood friend for taking off after Yongsun. “Bumblebee, come here. Wheein, you too!”
“Whose phone?” Byul-yi asked.
You all chorused your phone, handing her the latest model of iPhone. She wiggled her brows at you. “Looking for a sugar baby, mama?”
“Bold of you to assume that I’m not paying installments on that sleek piece of overpriced metal and glass.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less from a broke grad. Alright, alright. Okay, ladies. Now let’s get in formation. Wheein, brush your hair out of your face, you look like a mad scientist. Y/N, stop furrowing your brows like you’re reading those mean comments online. Hyejin, stand up straighter, you’re slouching—probably from bending over all the time—”
“Unnie!”
“Over your centrifuge, okay? Chill. Alright. 1, 2… 2 and a half.”
“How old are you? 50?”
“Alright, for that, you just got a burst. Y/N, I hope you find the ugliest gem in that to post.”
You and Wheein laugh at Hyejin who is now putting on her face of Disapproval and you imagine that Byul-yi is just now taking an endless amount of candids. You reach for the phone, a toothy grin still spread across your lips.
“Oop! Damn, this camera is nice. Don’t get too drunk otherwise you might accidentally drop it into my purse.”
You rolled your eyes and grabbed at your phone. You swiped through the camera roll, finding too many of your face, especially when reaching for the camera, thanks to Byul-yi’s trigger happy thumb. However, you looked genuinely happy, so you couldn’t be too mad.
Maybe that’s because you were done slaving over papers and deadlines, you mused.
You showed Wheein and Hyejin the photos as well, refusing to delete the ones where Hyejin is pulling her signature face. You smiled down at your screen before pulling up Instagram to post a photo of all three of you (looking like baddies and not like the unhinged beings you usually are) on your story.
You figured you would post the professional photos you had done by Myungsoo at a later date.
You typed up a caption:
alexa, play congratulations by post malone ft. quavo 🥳🎓 #PHinisheD
You locked your phone and tucked it away, ready to simply celebrate with your beloved group of girls.
That is, until two hours passed, which included a passed out Wheein cuddling into Hyejin on the couch and a drunk Yongsun and tipsy Byul-yi retiring to their own room and you sneaking into their second bedroom. You finally saw several responses to your story, mostly clapping and fire reactions and messages of well-wishes and pride. There was one handle that immediately caught your attention and you couldn’t help but think you were predictable in where your eyes always go.
[22:06] wzljh__ replied to your story: i figured u would be a day6 or eric nam kind of fan
[22:08] wzljh__ replied to your story: sorry that was dumb of me to assume
[22:08] wzljh__ replied to your story: of course u would like post malone considering u could rap the entirety of eminems album
[22:15] wzljh__: sorry that was stupid
[22:15] wzljh__: ignore me
[22:15] wzljh__: congrats y/n
You checked the time stamps to see that the first three messages came in rapid succession. While the last three came less than ten minutes later, without the “replied to your story,” meaning he actively searched for your conversation in his DMs to send a message.
You wondered whether it was okay to respond. He initiated it, so you figured this was consensual on his end. But… would you be okay?
Lee Jihoon was the one you believed would always know how to crack the code to tear down the walls of your heart. The one for whom your heart would invite in, with offerings of warm tea and resounding laughter and requests to make himself at home in your messy, but safe, space. You were always so utterly bare in front of him that it was almost nauseating with how much trust you put into his hands.
Did he deserve that same trust after what transpired between the two of you?
Regret lives in the past.
Anxiety lives in the future.
But you lived in the present.
Present (tipsy) you said, “cute human messaged must respond”
You opened up the conversation.
[23:16] You: alexa, play congratulations by day6.
[23:16] You: happy anniversary to svt!! 🥳
[23:16] You: hope you’re having fun with the members!!
Immediately, Seen popped up on your screen.
Your breathing hitched as you saw those damned three dots. You really should ask your old Biology tutor why your chest felt as tight as it did. Or maybe Wheein would know the science as to why it felt like your brain was firing a million and one things but was also completely shut down.
[23:16] wzljh__: oh
[23:16] wzljh__: oh wow
[23:17] wzljh__: i didnt think u would know that
[23:17] wzljh__: thanks you
[23:17] wzljh__: thank uou*
[23:17] wzljh__: you* wow im genius
You giggled softly to yourself.
―――――――――――――――――
“You look like an oversized peach, but, like, not a nice one. One that fell off the kitchen counter and now has bruising forming.”
“You’re fucking rude.”
You tutted. “Jihoon, language.”
“One of these days you’re gonna drop the fuck word too.”
“Mmm. Nope.”
He grabbed at your cheek and pinched it softly. You made a dramatic display of faked annoyance. “You will. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll be the first one to hear it, alright? I’m gonna hear the fuck word from the kid that everyone else is foolish enough to believe is entirely wholesome.”
“Um? But I am? So very wholesome?”
He barked out a laugh. “Sure. You got most people convinced, but I know you. You’re too fiery for your own good.”
“Oh, so you have me all figured out, huh?”
“Of course,” he replied in English, his words laced with his thick Korean accent. “I’m genius.”
You giggled before you corrected him. “‘I’m a genius.’”
He grinned. “We both can be.”
―――――――――――――――――
[23:18] You: the other caratdeul are posting it all over twitter so it’s trending, of course i would know that 😤 i’m in touch with the insiders nowadays
[23:19] wzljh__: the other caratdeul
[23:19] wzljh__: ??
You cursed silently. Did alcohol loosen your thumbs too? Is that possible? Would you remember these questions to ask Wheein later?
[23:19] You: uh, i’m also a carat? duh? have you /seen/ jeonghan-oppa’s visuals? 😍
[23:20] wzljh__: unfortunately every day
You laughed out loud at that.
You saw the three dots come. And then disappear.
You couldn’t help the twinge of sadness that hit, but you figured that he had his own celebration to do.
That is, until a video was sent from his end five minutes later.
You swore Lee Jihoon was going to be the cause of your death one of these days.
You clicked on the video.
“Annyeong, Y/N-ah!!”
You balked at Yoon Jeonghan’s face grinning at the camera. What the frick.
“Jihoon told me that you graduated with your PhD today! Congratulations! Hanniehae!!”
Your heart burst at the sight.
God, Jeonghan was so cute. You so desperately wanted to be his friend when you first discovered SEVENTEEN, almost more jealous of Jihoon for being surrounded by twelve other fantastic human beings rather than the other way around.
[23:28] You: omg i’m gonna cry
[23:28] You: !!!! how!!!! is he!!!! so CUTE!!!!!
[23:28] You: this is the best grad gift ever
[23:29] You: my years of indentured servitude to SNU was worth it to just bear witness to that 🥰 i can die happily now; thank you yoon jeonghan for existing
[23:30] wzljh__: um excuse me who else
[23:30] You: and to lee jihoon for the provision and distribution of content: i shall remember your services
[23:30] wzljh__: i now owe ur “jeonghan-oppa” a new lego set just for that
[23:31] You: he’s cute when he goes on vlive and builds it so just think of it as an additional gift to me, ok
[23:31] wzljh__: no.
[23:31] You: 🙄 rude
[23:31] wzljh__: u owe me too now especially since u said i gave the best grad gift ever
[23:31] You: i’m!!!!!
[23:32] You: ok so technically no one else has given me a gift yet so you were just better than nothing 🤧
[23:32] wzljh__: yes thats always my goal. to be better than nothing
[23:33] You: 😂😂😂
[23:33] You: wait!!
[23:33] You: you can’t distract me!!
[23:33] You: gifts are exchanged for the sake of selflessness and glad tidings!!
[23:34] wzljh__: thats not what u said when u guilted me into buying u the cardcaptor sakura cards because u got me plushies of the straw hat crew
[23:34] You: i didn’t GET you them! i MADE them!! my craftsmanship and time are worth much more than the ccs cards!! equivalent exchange!!
[23:34] wzljh__: god u are such a weeb
[23:34] You: if you recognize my reference you’re not so innocent yourself
[23:34] wzljh__: …
[23:34] wzljh__: damn
[23:35] wzljh__: anyway u think ur craftsmanship is worth more than the $50 i dropped on those cards?
[23:35] wzljh__: u wanna tell that to chopper whose head was too big for his body and now looks as though hes in inexplicable pain??
You stared at the screen. What?
[23:35] You: ???? pics or it didn’t happen
[23:36] wzljh__: at the dorm
[23:36] You: !!!!! you still have them with you???
[23:36] wzljh__: yea? ofc lol
[23:37] wzljh__: they may be dopey but mostly dope
[23:37] You: bihhhhh
―――――――――――――――――
“Always remember this, Y/N.”
You swallowed the handful of popcorn you so elegantly stuffed in your mouth just seconds prior. “You always do this, Jihoon. You always wait until my mouth is full—”
“Good people watch anime.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Okay?”
“I’m serious. Don’t trust anyone who says that they don’t like anime, alright?”
“What, so, that’s a requirement for whoever I’m going to be involved with in the future?”
“Yes. How can someone be a bad person when they have Monkey D. Luffy to look up to?”
“Fair, but—”
“And if the person can commit to nearly a thousand manga chapters and over eight-hundred episodes, they can commit to you.”
For some reason, his logic overtook your own. You nodded in slow agreement. “I mean. You’re not wrong.”
“Of course not.”
“So, you’re saying I’d have to find my Luffy?”
He eyed you. “I think you’re more of a Nico Robin than a Nami, honestly.”
Your stomach flipped but you brushed aside the implications of his words.
And even years later, your first-date questions always included, ‘If you were a Straw Hat member, who do you think you would be?’
You had yet to find another Zoro.
―――――――――――――――――
[23:38] wzljh__: anyway u still owe me
[23:38] You: BIHHHHHHH
[23:39] wzljh__: ill let u know by the end of the week
[23:39] You: 🥺 do i not get a choice
[23:41] wzljh__: u always have a choice
[23:42] You: hrmmmmmm then… i shall hear you out… maybe… perhaps… mayhaps
[23:42] wzljh__: always been a poet, since that second grade writing contest, havent u
[23:43] You: me? a poet? how about i quote one of the greatest poets of our generation
[23:43] You: ‘let’s have fun’
[23:43] wzljh__: …?
[23:44] You: ‘everyone stand up and clap’
[23:44] wzljh__: ok
[23:44] You: 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼
[23:45] You: wait
[23:45] You: that’s one too many
[23:45] wzljh__: fake fan
[23:46] You: 😢 i come here and get bullied by a member of my favorite k-pop group
[23:46] wzljh__: favorite
[23:46] wzljh__: ?*
[23:46] You: asjdkksncsls yoinks
[23:47] You: i wish i could unsend messages
[23:47] You: or go back 3 seconds in time
[23:48] You: but what if i jump forward 10 seconds..
[23:49] wzljh__: HA
[23:49] wzljh__: alright u are at least a cubic if u watch gose
[23:50] You: 💖💙 it’s what pulled me thru my thesis
[23:50] wzljh__: lololol
[23:50] wzljh__: alright alright
[23:50] wzljh__: i gotta go soon
[23:50] wzljh__: but
[23:51] wzljh__: congratulations y/n
[23:51] wzljh__: seriously
[23:51] wzljh__: u do some amazing things
[23:52] You: 🥺🥺🥺🥺
[23:52] You: thanks jihoon so do u
[23:52] You: oh wait i just remembered
[23:55] wzljh__: ?
[23:56] You: an amazing thing u did
[23:56] You: thanks for sharing the info abt the group home project!!
[23:58] You: i don’t think i can ever explain how grateful i am!! it went so smoothly because of the response from the surrounding communities
[00:00] You: and you didn’t need to share the information
[00:00] You: but you did
[00:00] You: and i just
[00:00] You: idk i’m really grateful
[00:02] You: anyway!!
[00:02] You: sorry
[00:03] You: oh wait i’m supposed to say thank you
[00:03] You: thank you thank you thank you
[00:03] You: thank you lee jihoon
[00:05] wzljh__: is it bad if i just send a 👍🏼
[00:05] You: you’re gonna ok, boomer me? and my authentic and genuine heartfelt words??
[00:06] wzljh__: 👍🏼
[00:07] You: ...i’m unsubscribing
[00:07] wzljh__: lolool
[00:07] You: 😭😭😭
[00:08] wzljh__: still a crybaby
[00:08] You: more like crylady
[00:09] wzljh__: i suggest u never say that ever again
[00:10] You: yep noted i regretted it as soon as i hit send
[00:10] wzljh__: looooollll
[00:11] wzljh__: ill let u know what i expect for my equivalent exchange
[00:12] wzljh__: i need to consult with my lawyers on what exactly i can get away with
[00:12] You: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
[00:12] wzljh__: i can hear that message and i dont get how
[00:13] You: i’m gonna d word 😭
[00:13] wzljh__: not until i get my gift lol anyway ill message u by the end of the week
[00:14] You: ok 😞 fine
[00:14] You: you’ll message me?
[00:14] You: 🤙🏼?
[00:15] wzljh__: lolollllllll thats not a pinky promise emoji
[00:16] You: don’t care!!!
[00:16] wzljh__: lollll still so stubborn
[00:16] wzljh__: okay fine
[00:17] wzljh__: 🤙🏼
[00:18] wzljh__: goodnight y/n sleep well
And so you did.
You dreamt of crescent moons, steady heartbeats, gentle melodies, and open arms.
And falling, falling, falling.
―――――――――――――――――
Five weeks.
Four interviews.
Three community project ideas.
Two job offers.
One major minor meltdown.
Zero Instagram messages.
Not that it particularly mattered when your entire future was splayed out right in front of you.
“So… you either stay in Seoul…” Hyejin began.
“...or I move to New York,” you finished for her.
“...okay, but like, what is even over there?”
“Unnie.”
“I know it’s your favorite city in the world—”
“Strongly so.”
“And they have Broadway—”
“An absolute treat.”
“And you’d be lecturing at Columbia—”
“The first Social Work university in America and most prestigious school in said field.”
“But I’m not there!”
You couldn’t help but laugh at Hyejin’s pout. “Unnie, you and Wheein were already talking about living together next year because you’re both heading over to Jeju!”
“Which is the same time zone as Seoul! AKA, I can call you at any point I want—”
“We both know that’s not true even if we were in the same time zone.”
“...okay, touché. But! Are you really going to move halfway across the world? Again?”
“I enjoyed my time at Yale!”
“Bumblebee, you left Korea because you were running away from something. Someone. Are you sure you’re not leaving Korea for the same reason?”
“...Unnie, I love New York.”
―――――――――――――――――
“Doesn’t this city just reek of anxiety?”
You ignored her and instead took in the hustle and bustle of the streets around you. The neon signs of overpriced bags just begging to be haggled, the misogynistic advertisements of computer-generated women overhead, unassuming hot dog stands and bodegas whose businesses depended entirely on locals, live music found on nearly every street corner, committed to entertain in order to survive.
This city was the physical manifestation of everything right and wrong with humanity.
Bodies close. Minds worlds away.
The perfect place for someone like you.
“So full of life.”
Hyejin looked at you. Her face softened once she caught a glimpse of the glimmer of light she always saw in passing.
She hoped it would return for the long-term.
“Yeah, bumblebee. Full of life.”
She promised herself that she would take you every year from then on.
Your first trip was during the nipping frost of winter, filled with artificial twinkling and overconsumption of goods; the holiday cheer dampened by the cold reality that heartbreak and loneliness were inevitable byproducts of the season.
Your second trip was in the welcoming arms of autumn, decidedly going upstate for one day; the leaves faded into reds and golds, apples ready to be picked to be baked into a sweet pie, accompanied by the warmth of spiced cider and slow healing found in vulnerability wrapped in double crochet blankets and friendship.
Your third trip was during the sweltering heat of the summer, bad decisions and dangerous impulsivity. Late night drives of yells and whoops echoed into the Lincoln Tunnel with the wind rushing through your hair. The invincibility of youth and rekindling of the burning fire you thought was long gone.
Your fourth trip was in the blossoming of springtime, maturation of seeds sown and bountiful harvests. Gentle breezes and flowy dresses. Picnic baskets and overpriced coffees. The unspoken connection of humans collectively sitting in Central Park enjoying the gift of now, thankful to be alive.
As the seasons changed, so did you.
―――――――――――――――――
“But,” Hyejin started, exasperation already apparent in her tone. “Come on, bumblebee.”
Annoyance flared up. “What?”
“You’re thinking about running away again.”
“What are you talking about?”
Hyejin rolled her eyes at you and you could feel the simmering anger building in the pit of your stomach. You tried to quell it down with breathing, but you still felt the flames lick at your insides. “Jihoon just started messaging you again and you’re off here just thinking about fleeing the country. Again.”
“This has nothing to do with him.”
“I think it has everything to do with him.”
“I’m not some lovesick puppy who can’t make her own decisions, unnie. I applied to Columbia because I thought that it would be an amazing opportunity to be an assistant professor. Do you know how many PhD grads get to score a job like that right out of graduation?”
“Oh, yes, we get it, Y/N. You’re always cream of the crop. Top of your class. Always pursuing something bigger and better than what we mere humans can provide.”
Your jaw dropped. “What the hell?”
“You were offered a full-ride to NYU for your PhD, but you declined it because you didn’t want to, and I’m quoting you here, ‘dirty your healing place.’”
“Things change, unnie.”
“No, you’re just fucking scared.”
Rage filled you. “You don’t know me. You think you have me all figured out, but you’re just projecting onto me because you, for one, are constantly running away from your own feelings for Wheein! You wanna know who’s scared? It’s not me. Because I make my choices and I don’t regret them. Can’t say the same for yourself, huh?”
You grabbed your belongings and stomped out of your shared living space, slamming the door behind you, the beating in your chest ringing in your ears with a resounding thump, thump, thump.
Part of you wondered if the reason you snapped was because she was right.
Maybe partially.
But you also knew that you hated being carved and molded into what people perceived you as.
And she perceived you as something you were not.
Your happiness wasn’t reliant on him. You were a wholly and complete person without him. You knew that. You found that Truth long ago. You proved that through the years of work you put in; years that Hyejin witnessed herself.
So, it felt like a backhanded slap when it felt like she saw the girl you were when she first met you. As though you didn’t put in the effort to take the course of your life into your hands and crafted it to be the way that it is now.
You were a whole person.
She never said you weren’t.
You tried to pull out your car keys from your bag but struggled to find them in the midst of your frustration. You growled before giving up, stomping your way down the now dimly lit streets, the sky never quite achieving a pitch black, with the light pollution of the city. Stars were nowhere in sight, but the moon hung low near the horizon.
You found yourself walking (nearly stomping) for almost an hour as different voices argued in your mind. You were several blocks away from your home now.
She overreacted.
She’s just worried about you.
She didn’t have to be.
She probably doesn’t want you to experience the heartache that she’s seen you go through.
She was treating you like a child.
Because she loves you. And love makes you do crazy things sometimes. Like yelling at your best friend. Or flying halfway across the world.
You groaned inwardly.
God! Why did you have to have a conscience?
You said some pretty shitty things to someone who may have not portrayed her care in the best way, but tried to anyway. She gathered the courage to try and challenge you and you blew her off by rubbing salt into her own wound.
She wasn’t right.
But neither were you.
You felt the wash of shame come over you as you twiddled with your bag’s strap, trying to muster up the determination you needed to trudge back down and apologize.
“Oh, thank God, bumblebee.”
You pivoted your entire body at your unnie’s voice, wanting to shrink back at noticing the redness in her skin and puffiness under her eyes, even in the faint light of the street lamps. She looked so frazzled, her flip-flops nearly hanging off her feet from what looked like running around trying to find you. “Unnie, I—”
“I know you said you don’t like apologies, so I’ll say thank you instead. Thank you for your honesty, even if it was really mean. Thank you for listening to me, at least the beginning. Thank you for getting angry because I know that’s really fucking hard for you to do so and I feel weirdly honored but also still spooked by it. Thank you for not driving, especially this late and on a weekend when you’re upset—”
Your heart sank at the memory of Hyejin recounting her story of losing her friend to a drunk driver, something Hyejin felt immensely (and irrationally) responsible for, having been the person to last send her off.
You had forgotten about that.
Here you were, trying to figure out how you were going to apologize, and here she was, worrying about whether you were going to come back to her at all. You bit your lip before you piped up, “I’m sorry for scaring you like that.”
“Yeah, well, I was right. I learned that I never want to be caught in the crossfire. Your anger is terrifying. You’re not a bumblebee; you’re more like an agitated hornet. With a gun.”
“Unnie—”
“I’m not done. I don’t know how to process my emotions like you do so I didn’t really think before I came running after you. I’m still hurt and mad that you said all of that shit—”
“I was wrong,” you interrupted. She went quiet at that. “I don’t know everything. I hardly know anything. But what I do know is that I was wrong. I said some things that I knew were going to hurt you because that’s what I wanted to do. I was wrong. But... so were you, unnie.”
She remained silent, so you continued.
“I’m not that same, young, dumb teen that you met at Yale. I’m not the brat who was still trying to figure out how to be her own person without being an off-brand version of all of her friends from Busan. I’m… I’m not weak, unnie.”
“I… I never said you were.”
You wondered when you started crying. “Yeah, well. It felt like you didn’t believe in me. That you didn’t trust me. You are the only person in my life who saw all of the changes I went through and you still said I was running away. So, it just made me think that all of my growth was… I don’t know. Fake.”
“What? No. Oh, bumblebee. Never.”
“I’m… I’m my own person. Who can make her own decisions. I don’t need anyone else to complete me. So, there’s no one and nothing that I’m trying to run away from. I’m just trying to figure out where I want to go. Is that so bad?”
“...No. Not at all,” Hyejin answered softly. She slowly stepped towards you and tentatively wrapped her arms around your torso. You leaned in and breathed in her scent, muffling your sniffling against her shoulder. “You were right that I confused the woman you are now with the girl you were then. But I’ve never ever seen you as weak. Or incomplete. Not then, not now.”
“Then why?” You sobbed. “Why do you think my life revolves around him? Anyone else can think I’m some love-struck dumbass, but why you?”
“Oh, bumblebee, I fucked up when I said I thought it had everything to do with him. I definitely… projected. Like you said. As much as I hate to admit it. But... I also want you to know that I don’t see you as some sad girl who’s been pining after some crusty dude. I see a woman who has gone around the world, fallen in love with it and its people, and still knows exactly with whom she feels safest. And I don’t want you to deny yourself of that.”
“I’m not denying myself anything. He doesn’t love me, unnie. So, I have to be the one to do it. Because he won’t. And that’s okay. I’ve learned to love myself and isn’t that good enough?”
Hyejin squeezed you tighter in her embrace. “Call me crazy, but… I think there’s something there. Call it a spark. Call it a string of fate. Call it a grown love. But… ah. I’m not good with words like you, bumblebee. You are good enough. Just as you are. Wonderful, even. I… I’m not saying he’s a missing piece of you or anything like that. But. Agh. Like. He is bread. And you are butter. You’re both complete by nature and can exist without each other, but you’re just… better together,” she tried to hold her tongue, but you knew her resolve was weak, so you braced yourself. “Butter together.”
“...unnie, you really are bad with words.”
You yelped when she grabbed at you to pinch your thigh.
She promptly turned the two of you around back to your apartment, her arm looped around yours. You easily walked past your building, though, caught up in smoothing out the harsh lines said during your earlier conversation. She admitted her fears regarding pursuing her own unrequited love and you confessed you often chased things that were of grandeur rather than that of simplicity. And you both touched on exactly the roots of your insecurities: hers in her fear of being unwanted and yours in the idea that you were incomplete without him.
The two of you found yourselves swinging at a neighborhood park that probably closed several hours ago, but it was a safe space for the two of you, to air out the tension, to have the beginnings of healing and mending, although most of it being left to time and future efforts of rebuilding trust.
Together.
―――――――――――――――――
[19:21] wzljh__: this might be a dumb question but did ur kkt account change
[19:21] wzljh__: i tried messaging u and it said delivered but
[19:21] wzljh__: nvm u dont have to reply sorry
[19:42] You: omg
[19:42] You: jihoon i made a new account bc my username was @narutofanfreak123 and i couldn’t bear to tell people that was my username but i didn’t know how to change it LOLLL
[19:43] You: so i made a new account once i came back to korea!!
[20:01] wzljh__: i
[20:01] wzljh__: i shouldve asked
[20:02] wzljh__: i thought u werent replying because u were busy with job searching since u were posting about it on ur story
[20:02] wzljh__: or maybe u didnt want to talk to me 😣
You rubbed your eyes in disbelief.
Jihoon used an emoji?
[20:05] You: oh no lol i already got offers
[20:05] You: still deciding between two of them
[20:17] wzljh__: before u tell me whats ur username on kkt?
[20:18] You: oh yeah!
[20:18] You: oh
[20:18] You: uhhhhhhhhhhhhh
[20:18] wzljh__: ???
[20:19] You: haha
[20:19] You: ok so
[20:19] You: uh
[20:19] wzljh__: are u ok???
[20:20] You: yeah! haha
[20:20] You: welp
[20:20] You: it’s @madamefirefly
[20:20] You: heh
Lee Jihoon (@wzljh__) added you on KakaoTalk!
You accepted Lee Jihoon’s request!
[20:23] Lee Jihoon: nice username
[20:23] You: thanks it was inspired by someone who used to bully me as their pastime
[20:25] Lee Jihoon: sounds like u were a masochist
[20:25] You: 🙄🙄🙄
[20:25] You: nice username
[20:25] You: sounds like it was randomly generated off of a sketchy site on naver that just so happened to have your initials
[20:26] Lee Jihoon: that ‘sketchy site’ somehow managed to predict the initials of my english stage name
[20:27] You: that was easily!!!! within your control to manipulate, woozi-ssi!! it should technically be uji!!
[20:27] Lee Jihoon: no that site knew my future and spoke to me
[20:28] Lee Jihoon: speaking of futures
[20:28] Lee Jihoon: whats coming up on the y/n agenda
[20:29] You: oop sorry hyejin-unnie is back home and i promised we would get dinner together so i might not respond until later
[20:30] You: but i’m deciding between staying here in seoul to continue the work i’ve been doing and being an assistant professor at columbia university in new york city!!
[20:30] You: although i’m def leaning more towards one than the other
[20:30] You: ack she’s yelling at me to hurry sorry i’ll ttyl!!
[Read at 20:30]
―――――――――――――――――
Your phone rang.
You saw the FaceTime ID and never slid the bar faster than you did in that moment.
“Unnie! I—oh God, is that a wedding dress—oh my, oh no, the tears—”
One of the most beautiful laughters of your childhood rang out as she flipped the camera back to her face, stained from salty tears already passed. “Oh, lovebug—” Your lips split into a wide grin at the childhood nickname. “I think this is the one. I needed to show you. What do you think?”
“Hold on, I’m crying so hard that I can’t see—”
337.1km away, your future family member (although, one could argue she always had been) burst into a renewal of joyful tears, so exuberantly over-the-moon to share this moment with you, and you sharing the same exact sentiment to be able to bask in the joy of a promised love.
“Unnie,” you said emphatically. “You are… so beautiful. So stunning. So radiant. So dazzling. My goodness me. You are… just so splendent.”
She hiccuped. “Lovebug, no one uses that word anymore.”
“I had to go back to words of old to explain myself because language oft fails me when I see you.”
“Stop. God, you and Jihoon both with your ability to speak. How do words even come out of you two like that?”
You made a noise.
You don’t think she caught it.
“Y/N, you are sunshine personified, so to hear you say that makes me feel like I’m being blessed by Amaterasu herself.”
“I wouldn’t want to go lock myself in a cave.”
“Then don’t, lovebug,” she said dismissively. “Plus, you can’t. The bachelor and bachelorette party is gonna be in Seoul and you promised you would be there.”
“Yes, yes. To help me get blackmail on everyone else in case they try to turn on you later. You’re using me, you know?”
“You’re a useful person.”
You clicked your tongue. “So I’ve been told.”
A comfortable silence passed between the two of you before she broke it, a slight hesitation in her tone.
“So… turns out that Jihoon’s gonna be at oppa’s bachelor party. Oppa asked him to perform and he said no because of his schedule, but he said he would be at the wedding. And the bachelor party.”
You quirked an eyebrow at that. He was willingly going to the party and the wedding of the man who stole the love of his life away from him? “Really?”
“Yeah…”
“Huh. Weird.”
“I’m sorry, but he’s coming to the wedding. I know you don’t want to see him, but—”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Uh, you literally went across the world to avoid him—”
“Why does everyone think that? No, don’t worry about me, unnie. It’s fine.”
You didn’t look directly at the screen but you could feel her stare boring into the side of your face through it. She thought you were lying. But you weren’t. It wasn’t about you.
“Lovebug—”
“He texted me.”
Your words stunned her into silence.
That is, until she went rapid-fire.
“Oh my God. What? How? When? Did you reply? Was it an emergency? Did you have a conversation? Was it a casual conversation? How long? Oh, thank goodness—”
“Whoa, whoa, chill out, unnie. Wait. Why do you look happier now than you did when you were showing me your wedding dress? Wait. Aren’t you at a boutique right now? Don’t you have your mom waiting or something—?”
“Shush, I’m asking the questions around here.”
And so, you answer them. You told your future family, your confidant, your safe space. You told her of the accidental like, the off-chance comment, the purposeful messages, and everything caught in between.
337.1km away and you felt right at home.
―――――――――――――――――
“Y/N?”
You knew that voice anywhere.
Of course she was here, of course she was. This was one of your collective dreams, two girls fantasizing about inebriated situations and uninhibited fun by means of burning liquids in a local Busan bar. A dream of spending a night here, sharing a story for every shot.
You learned a year prior that you would really only be able to tell two stories before wanting to quit.
“Oh… hey, unnie.”
“You’re… you’re back.”
You forced out a laugh. “Yeah, I, uh. Graduated.”
“From Yale.”
“Uh… yeah. From Yale.”
“Can… I sit here?”
You glanced up at her before gesturing to the seat in front of you, the corner booth really far too large for your person. You could almost see the thoughts that raced in her mind before she gave a small nod and sunk down into the cushion.
“So, how have you—”
“I heard you—”
“Oh, no, you go—”
“Oh, sorry, I just—”
You both locked eyes.
And promptly burst into a fit of laughter.
“God, what is this?” You managed to get out, holding your stomach.
She was no better, in her signature hiccuping stage. “I just—!”
“We have the communication skills of five-year-olds.”
She wiped away a stray tear. “We’ve become a drama.”
“I call being the second-male lead.”
“Wait, that’s not fair. We all know that the second-male lead is objectively better.”
“That’s exactly why, unnie,” you winked.
She scoffed. “Alright, I’ll give it to you this time, lovebug.”
You saw her freeze, as if she didn’t expect herself to call you by that nickname. She looked like a deer caught in headlights and you quickly gave her a wave of your hand. “You spent more years calling me that than you did my actual name. Let’s not break the trend now, yeah?”
She visibly relaxed and you couldn’t help but smile fondly.
A lull passed over you, but you felt much more comfortable with this silence than the strained one prior. You closed your eyes and simply took in the moment, gratitude filling your lungs.
“I’m sorry.”
Your eyes fluttered open. “What?”
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I’m sorry that you had to leave because of me—”
Oh.
That was heart wrenching to hear.
The apology signified a wound, an old one.
A self-inflicted one.
Oh no.
“Unnie,” you began slowly, reaching for her hands. You could see the tears brimming. “Do you… do you blame yourself for my decision? Has guilt been eating at you all of these years?”
“I just… you left. Jihoon left. If I had just said something, then—”
“Unnie.”
She bit her lip at your definitive tone.
“Nothing, nothing, about this was your fault. Don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t mine and it wasn’t his either. We all struggled to ‘just say something’. Unnie, we were young and dumb. We still are young and dumb,” you squeezed her hands for emphasis. “If you say you’re sorry, then okay. I forgive you. But I just want you to know that past me never blamed you. Never.”
She let out a choked sob and you found yourself crossing to the other side of the table, enveloping her in your arms, tucking her head under your chin. She buried her face into your chest and you just rubbed her back soothingly. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for never reaching out. I’m sorry I never cleared the air. I’m sorry I was so scared.”
“We needed time and space apart, unnie. To figure ourselves out. And I did. I really did. And I wouldn’t have been able to do that if I kept tying my self-worth into Korea, into Busan, into you, into him. But that doesn’t mean I cut you off in order to do it. I don’t think I ever could,” you squeezed tighter. “Thank you for saying that you’re sorry, but there really is no need, not to me.”
And so she cried into your arms, emptying herself of tears. Later, you filled that space with your stories of adventure, your kind words, and your love. And she did the same for you.
In that moment, Busan never seemed so much more like home.
―――――――――――――――――
“So, New York, huh?”
You glanced up at your boss, the social worker in charge of running the different programs tied to the university, the same one who got you involved with the group home, the same one who offered you a full-time position after graduation in training new recruits, specializing in the Child and Family division, but also providing self-care guidance to the rest of the staff since your specialty in school was around Behavioral and Mental Health.
The pay was good, seeing as it was run by professionals partnered with SKY: Seoul National University, Korea University, and Yonsei University. What most Koreans would consider to be the ‘Ivy League’ of South Korea. Although, being a community leader was definitely a far-cry from a prestigious position as an assistant professor.
“Ah. Yeah, New York.”
“Nice place.”
“It’s… yeah. It’s nice.”
“Is the air better there than here?”
“No fine dust, but there’s a lot of smog.”
She pulled a displeased face. “Is that better?”
“Depends on who you ask.”
There was a pregnant pause between the two of you. You wanted to reduce into a puddle and slip through the vents, dreading this conversation.
“You should go.”
Uh. What?
You parroted those exact words out loud.
“I may have lost some of my mind’s sharpness to age and time, but if I remember correctly, New York City is one of the most popular places in the world. And I hear that it would be a good place for a young, spry lady like you to get your bright mind out there. The world needs a little more of you and if New York City is the best way to do it, so be it.”
“I’m… I’m…”
“A wonderful human being who will make the most of the hand that she’s dealt. I’ve seen you make castles out of cardboard.”
“You… you want me to go to New York?”
“Oh, Heavens no. Not at all. I would love to just keep you here forever,” she sighed, going so far as to lean back in her desk chair. You resisted the urge to laugh at her theatrics. “But you’re not a princess locked up in a tower. You have the power to make your own choice, and I know that whichever path you go down, it will be a flowery one. You’ll make it one. Because that’s just what you do, Y/N.”
“What if… What if I’m not sure?”
She tilted her head back down to meet your eyes and gave you a smile that was slightly off-putting, as though you had fallen into a trap she carefully laid out. “Then, what can I do to convince you to stay here?”
“I think a part of me thinks I’m wanting to stay here because I’ve found my home here. I think I’ve become incredibly comfortable here. In Korea.”
She blinks at you. “Is… that a bad thing?”
“I think... I think that I’m wanting to stay here because I love it here and the work I do and the people I’ve met, but I think I’m wanting to leave because I’m trying to prove that I’m not tied down to a particular person. Because I feel like everyone thinks that I can’t live my life without them, so I want to prove that I can do it. That I will.”
“So… you’re trying to prove that you’re not influenced by said person, by, uh, being influenced by said person?”
“Uh.”
“‘Uh,’ indeed.”
“What if… I’m staying here because I subconsciously think that everyone is right? That I actually can’t live without them? Not actually?”
“Is that person me?”
“No, ma’am.”
“I’m a little hurt you answered that so quickly, but. To prove my point. You are here, in my office, yes?”
“Yes…?”
“Are they?”
“No…?”
“Then. You’re living without them, aren’t you? Right here. In front of me. Heart pumping out blood through your veins and your brain shooting off neurons. You’re alive. Without them.”
“It’s… it’s a little different, Doctor, I—”
“Y/N. You’re dazzling. Almost overwhelmingly so. There is no one. No one who can overshadow you in the way you think they can. No matter what underlying influences, no matter what puppetry you may think is going on, you call the shots. You get to decide what to include in your life moving forward. If this person has as much power as you think they do over you, I’d like to meet them. Because you’re a force to be reckoned with.”
You bit your lip. “Is… Is it okay to be so selfish?”
“You said so yourself, Y/N. You found a home here. Or more like, knowing you, you built a home here. Korea will forever be marked by you. Seoul. Busan. Everywhere you’ve gone. That’s something that the majority of the world cannot say, because everyone feels a little lost, a little out of place. But you? No. You have a place. Right here. And, I mean, even at the end of the day, if you go off somewhere else, you’ll always have a place to return to that will welcome you with open arms.”
“Doctor, I…”
“Yes, Y/N?”
“...I think I wanna stay.”
“Perfect. I’ll have them write up your contract.”
―――――――――――――――――
[04:12] Lee Jihoon: i know its late. rehearsal never ends until 3am and i know that when u get texts you wake up even if ur phone is on silent bc the vibration wakes u up so im trying to type this all in one message so that it doesnt wake u up (hopefully) but i didnt want it to seem like i left u on read because i was upset or something. but i didnt want to message until i had the time to have a full conversation but i dont think thats happening any time soon anyway. when you see this i hope it makes sense im not sure if i am
[4:12] You: i still have the sleep schedule of a doctoral student, you know
[4:12] Lee Jihoon: oho i see
[4:12] Lee Jihoon: and u still owe me a gift, doctor
[4:12] You: 🥴🥴🥴 i thought you forgot
[4:12] Lee Jihoon: never
[4:13] You: ok lee jihoon, what do you want?
[4:13] Lee Jihoon: can i call u
[4:13] You: ? sure?
Before you could even type, ‘is something wrong?’, his name and profile picture (which wasn’t even of him, it was that dumb photo of Hansol) flooded your screen. Your finger slid across before you could even give a second thought.
“Um. Hello?” Silence met your ears. You wondered whether the call actually went through. You pulled the phone away from your cheek and pressed ‘speaker’. “Jihoon…?”
“Ah, sorry. Yes. Wow. Hi.”
You knew speaker was the better option. Hearing his voice that close to your ear would have given you heart palpitations, or at least, worse than what was already happening. “Yes, hello yourself. Did you need something?”
“Huh?”
“You called?”
“Oh. Yeah. No. I just. Wanted to talk.”
“About what?”
“Anything. I think staring at a screen would’ve made me fall asleep faster, but I wanted to talk. To you. If that’s okay.”
“Yeah, yeah. It’s okay.”
You heard him release a sigh of relief (?). “Yeah. Okay. Thank you.”
You hummed, realizing there was a chance he didn’t exactly prepare conversation topics. “I decided to stay in Seoul.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. My boss here convinced me.”
“Tell them thank you.”
You snorted. “It wasn’t hard to.”
“Columbia is a pretty prestigious place, though.”
“Huh. How’d you know that?”
“Might’ve asked Hansol and Jisoo-hyung.”
You clicked your tongue. “Jihoon, just because they’re American doesn’t mean—”
“Nope. That’s exactly what it means.”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “Okay, okay.”
“I’m proud of you, you know.”
“Uh—what?”
“You got a whole ass PhD. From the best university in Korea. You got offered a job at a super big school in America. One that’s super big in the field that you studied. You graduated from an even bigger school for undergrad, a school that even I know the name of. And just… I know that people expect you to achieve because you’ve always been a genius, always so brilliant, but. You also work really hard. So. I’m proud of you.”
Your throat felt tight. “It’s not that big of a deal—”
“But it is, firefly.”
Oh, that nickname. “I mean, I just—”
“You don’t have to believe me. But that won’t stop me from feeling it.”
“Jihoon, I—”
“I’ve missed you.”
Before you could even make a noise (not that you could), he continued.
“I’ve missed you a stupid amount. Like us stealing your dad’s car to drive to McDonald’s at 3am and then running a red light on the way there. And then somehow almost hitting an entire flock of seagulls. And then going to some random, deserted parking lot. And then realizing we didn’t know the way home, so we drove aimlessly for, like, 45 minutes. And then panicking when we kept seeing the gas needle go down. That kind of stupid.”
You couldn’t form words.
But you tried.
“I… I missed you too.”
You could’ve sworn you heard utter satisfaction in his voice. “I have to sleep now, but. I just. I couldn’t not tell you. That’s all.”
“Okay.”
“Get some sleep, firefly. Or should I call you, Dr. Firefly now?”
“That sounds like a cartoon villain.”
His laughter rang throughout your empty room and your chest tightened.
“Alright, we’ll go with just firefly then.”
Tears formed in your eyes at the ‘we’. You felt like you were fifteen and back in your childhood bedroom, after a long, long hours, ending your night by telling him about your day. The words you denied yourself for years tumbled out of your mouth, “Night, night, Jihoonie.”
A low chuckle met your ears.
“Sleep well, firefly.”
―――――――――――――――――
“He fucking booty called you?”
“Unnie, that’s not—”
“Nuh-uh, bumblebee. Any call past 3am is a fucking booty call.”
“So, when you called me past 3am, it was a booty call? I feel violated.”
“Time zones, Wheein. Doesn’t count,” Hyejin said dismissively.
Wheein puffed out her cheeks and stabbed the salad in front of her, piercing a lettuce leaf. You wanted to laugh at her infantile display, but you knew that would only result in her turning against you. And Hyejin was already a formidable opponent.
“He’s an idol,” you repeated for what seemed like the millionth time. “His rehearsal didn’t end until 3am.”
“He didn’t even tell you what he wanted for a gift,” Wheein interrupted.
“Yeah, what the hell is that about?” You muttered, turning back to your own plate of fries. You chewed on one thoughtfully as you made eye contact with Hyejin who gave you a deadpanned look. “What?”
“God, you two are dense, aren’t you?”
“Um, rude?”
“The phone call was the gift,” Hyejin explained.
“What a shitty gift.”
“Yeah, what? I would’ve asked for, like, Y/N’s homemade japchae.”
“Or my kimchi jjigae.”
“Or her dwaejigogi-bokkeum—wait. Stop distracting me,” Hyejin shook her head. “Regardless, bumblebee. He called you and that was his gift.”
You rolled your eyes at the ridiculous notion. “Sure, Jan.”
“Don’t make Brady Bunch references at me. We’re not American.”
“No, but we do use the internet,” you reminded her. “Anyways, it’s not that big of a deal. I’ve got other things to worry about. Like the fact that my cousin and his fiancée are coming in about a week and they want to get dinner together before they get shit-faced over the weekend. My only task is to gather blackmail material whenever the bachelorette happens with her friends.”
“Sounds like my kind of job.”
“Yes, Wheein-unnie, it really does.”
“Aren’t you gonna see him then?”
“Who? Jihoon?”
“Yeah, like. Aren’t you gonna see him next week? Isn’t he in your cousin’s bachelor party troupe or whatever the hell it’s called?”
You cocked your head to the side. “I don’t think I’ll see him? I shouldn’t see him. I think they’re gonna be in a different part of Seoul.”
“Huh. That would’ve been cool, though.”
“What?”
“You know that scene in dramas, where the main characters meet each other again for the first time in a long time and it’s all fuzzy and slow motion and there’s music playing in the background?”
“That’s—what? No. That doesn’t actually happen in real life, unnie.”
Hyejin pursed her lips. “Sure, Jan.”
―――――――――――――――――
“Ladybug!”
“Move aside, second-rate, that’s my lovebug.”
Your unnie ran into your open arms after she shoved her fiancé aside. You laughed at his crestfallen face but squeezed your future family as tight as you could. She squealed at your strength but nuzzled her face into your neck anyway.
“She’s… she’s my cousin, you know.”
“Yeah, but she chose me, which means that she likes me more. Chosen family is always better.”
“What? No—”
“She’s right, oppa,” you quipped. “Chosen family is always better. Has Lilo and Stitch taught you nothing?”
“I—you two always do this. You two always gang up on me and Jihoon, and—”
“Our table is ready, oppa. Let’s go take a seat.”
“For once, can you two listen to me, please?”
“He’s asked that before, unnie.”
“And we abided at that one time, right, lovebug?”
“Yes. He said to listen for once and we did.”
“Once only means one time, am I wrong?”
“No, unnie, you’re not.”
“God, forget it. Where’s the damn table? I need a drink.”
The two of you laughed at your cousin’s outburst and retreating figure as you both linked arms to follow after.
―――――――――――――――――
One appetizer in, you swirled the lemonade in your hands, appreciating the visible pulp as an indicator of its freshness. Your cousin, on the other hand, was several beers in, face slightly flushed, a permanent lazy grin plastered on his face.
“Wow, I’m surrounded by my two favorite girls—”
“What about your mom?”
“Or your dog?”
“Or Jennie from Blackpink?
“Or Zero Two from Darling in the FRANXX?”
“Oh God. He watched Darling in the FRANXX?”
“Ugh, yes, lovebug, let me tell you—”
“ANYWAY. YEAH. MY TWO FAVORITE GIRLS.”
The two of you snickered at his outburst. Your cousin’s phone pinged and he shielded it from you, squinting like an old man, staring at the screen with a tilted head. “Oh, hey, he’s five minutes away.”
You made an inquisitive sound. “Who?”
The two of them exchanged nervous glances, your cousin visibly swallowing.
Your unnie was the one who decided to speak up.
Because they knew you wouldn’t ever get mad at her.
Oh no.
“I know we didn’t give you the time to prepare, but we thought that you would’ve run away if we told you earlier, but Jihoon is coming here and—”
You could see her mouth move but you only heard a dull ringing.
You tried to speak, but no sound came out.
Wait.
Could you even speak?
Where was your mouth again?
Did it even move?
What was happening?
Where were you?
Who were you?
“Y/N.”
You thought you felt a hand place itself on your shoulder. You turned to the sound source. “Yes?”
“Are you breathing?”
“I think so.”
Your vision focused enough to recognize the looks of concern from the two seated at the booth.
Your heart sank. Oh no. Oh no.
Jihoon was going to see the two of them together, engaged.
He was going to be completely shattered.
“Lovebug, are you crying?”
“I—”
“Jihoon! Hey!” Your cousin’s voice went up several octaves from its regular position. You froze and cast your eyes downward, shrinking back as far into the seat as you could.
“Hey, hyung.”
Even the highest quality of speakers could not do this man’s voice justice, you realized.
“Oh my goodness, it’s our Jihoonie! Hi!”
You prepared yourself to hear the strain in his voice that you knew would tear you up inside.
“Hi, noona.”
Wait. What?
He spoke with such nonchalance, your head shot up in surprise.
Your breath caught in your throat.
Was your vision still fuzzy from earlier?
Did someone turn the playback speed to 0.5x?
Was that music playing?
(Shit. Hyejin was right.)
Your tongue mindlessly ran across your lips.
Oh wow.
He was really built like that, huh? His fair skin was so clear, you could have sworn there was a halo of light emitting from him. Cleanly done undercut, his ebony bangs fell messily just above his eyes, oh God, those crescent eyes, those bright, bright, bright—
Has he always looked at you like that?
“Hey, firefly.”
“Holy fuck.”
The older two gawked for a moment before your cousin began to berate you, going so far as to threaten to wash your mouth out with soap, while your unnie had her jaw dropped in horror. But you couldn’t look away from Jihoon. Surprise flitted across his face, but only for a moment. It settled into an uptilted corner of his lip and amusement dancing in his irises.
The woman before him, he only ever caught fleeting moments of. From social media posts by old friends to grainy photos from news outlets regarding your doctoral work. You were always so hard to pin down, like trying to catch a sunbeam in his hands.
You changed. So much.
You grew more into yourself, a woman you crafted with your own hands. There was a quiet confidence woven into you, so blatantly obvious, even though your current posture would convince everyone else otherwise. But he wasn’t everyone else. He could see the burning flame you’ve had since you were children, but it was more refined, more honed in, more in your control.
That made you more dangerous.
But that flustered look on your face.
Maybe you hadn’t changed too much.
And that gave him hope.
―――――――――――――――――
[side A: you. end]
[side B: him. coming soon]
#lee jihoon x reader#woozi x reader#lee jihoon#woozi#seventeen x reader#kpop fanfiction#kpop fanfic#seventeen#svt#kpop svt#woozi fic#seventeen fic#svt fic#mine
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Noisy Neighbors Chapter 2
Finally got the next chapter of this out. Sorry for the long wait. I promise to be better at uploading this. Just been feeling a bit sick and been busy with things. Anyways let's get to it my lovelies.
Summary: After meeting Murphy MacManus last night, you ran into him on your way to your job interview. Oh today was going to be an interesting one.
Pairing: Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 960
Warnings: [18+], slow burn, complicated feelings, miscommunication, fluff, little bit of angst because why not. drinking, cursing, mentions of drug use, smoking.
Your POV:
The alarm from your phone woke you up early in the morning. You groaned, moving your hand around to try and shut it up. Eventually you got yourself up and ready for the day. Trying to look as presentable as possible. You really needed this job.
Quickly grabbing your purse and your last piece of toast. You bolted out of your apartment, heading towards the elevator. Once the doors open you where greeted by Murphy. Dressed in a black peacoat and jeans. A pair of sunglasses resting on his head. Oh no, you really didn't have time to be distracted by Murphy right now.
“Morning, las what's got ya all jumpy?” Murphy said with a smile. You smiled back at him and entered the elevator. “Job interview, remember?” You said back to him, finishing your last piece of toast on the way down. “Ah I remember now, nervous about it?” He asked, standing next to you. “A little to be honest, I really need this job” You said as you looked through your purse. Making sure you had everything you needed.
“Well I think you'll do amazin, come tell me about it later?” Murphy said with a smile. The elevator stopped at the bottom floor. Both of you stepping out. You smiled “Sure, I'll come by later then, maybe meet your brother” You said as you went your separate ways. You noticed another man join Murphy, wearing the same outfit. Just he had spikey hair and a scar through his eyebrow. Maybe it was Murphy's brother? You thought to yourself. Would have to find that out later.
You went outside and called yourself a taxi. Heading towards your job interview. You still felt nervous, but hearing Murphy thought you would do well cheered you up a bit. You relaxed in the backseat and looked out the window. Today was going to be a good a day. Just had to keep yourself focused…
The interview went somewhat okay. You answered all their questions, they told you about the job. It wasn't much, just editing papers for the local news article. They didn't take long before they went to the next person after you. You sighed and made your way out of the building. Making your way back home.
You didn't know what you would do if this job didn't go well. You thought as you waited for another taxi. That's when it started to rain. Your day couldn't be any worse. You quickly hopped into the taxi and shut the door. Telling the driver where to go. Eventually the car stopped, you paid and got out and headed into your apartment building.
Your hair was soaked and you felt yourself shiver. A hot shower and maybe a beer would make this better. You pressed the button for the elevator and waited. Wrapping your arms around yourself. Once it was your floor, you stepped out and grabbed your keys from your purse.
“Hey there (Y/n)!” Murphy startled you, making you jump back. You hit him in the gut making him groan. He put his hand up in defense. “It's just me las!! I'm sorry” Murphy quickly said. Oh you felt horrible. “Shit! Murphy you can't scare a girl like that” You said and helped him stand up right. “I'm alright, I'm alright. Sorry again for scaring ya” Murphy said chuckling a bit. Good to know you could throw a punch. You smiled a bit, “It's okay Murphy, kinda cheered me up a bit honestly. Today wasn't great” You said honestly.
That's when Murphy noticed you where soaked. Your hair stuck to your face. Your shoulder he had his hand on was freezing. “Why don't ya go get cleaned up then come over, we can talk about it yea?” He said with the sweetest smile. How thoughtful. You nodded your head saying goodbye to Murphy. Heading inside your apartment.
You took a nice hot shower and changed into something comfortable. A simple t-shirt and nice jeans. You grabbed your phone putting it in your back pocket. Opening your fridge, you grabbed the six pack of beer. Headed on over to Murphy's apartment.
The door was cracked open when you arrived. You still knocked as you walked in hearing chatter from the kitchen. The apartment looked the same as yours. Just messy and less taken care of. Murphy greeted you and took the beer setting it on the counter. “Glad you came over, This is my brother Connor, and that's Rocco. Ignore him” Murphy said before Rocco hit him in the arm.
The guy from this morning was standing next to Murphy. So that was his brother. “So your the twin brother that Murphy constantly nags about” You said with a smile. Connor chuckled a little and sipped the beer in his hand. “Ah! That's me las, you must be our neighbor that Murphy keeps talking about” He responded back. You noticed Murphy's face turn a slight shade of red. Which you thought was adorable.
“Aye, don't go telling her about that!” Murphy yelled at his brother smacking him behind his head. Connor quickly set his beer down and pulled Murphy's head into his arms. Messing up his hair. Oh tonight was going to be a long one...
#murphy macmanus fanfiction#murphy x reader#murphy macmanus#connor murphy#boondock saints#the walking dead#daryl dixon#twd daryl#daryl x reader#twd fanfiction#daryl dixion imagine#daryl imagines#my writing#writer#writers on tumblr
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