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#Closest Car Towing
a2btow · 18 days
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iarecovery · 6 months
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Closest Car Towing
We provide car recovery services including car towing and roadside assistance in and around St Albans. Our technical staff is equipped with all the necessary tools and spares to provide you with urgent relief. If your car needs a workshop, we will tow it to the best and the nearest one. We can do that for you if you need your vehicle transported from one spot to another. Our services are available for cars, including vans, 4X4s, and motorcycles. Our Car Towing St Albans team is always ready and available on very short notice.
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fxa · 1 year
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i sure am applying to a lot of jobs on the other sides of the country for a person who has never moved before and is terrified of even slightly messing up important things like finding housing and moving
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Sometimes I remember that time in 2018 when I curled up on my side in a ditch off the highway and sobbed hysterically for like 20 minutes and it's like yeah you know what that tracks 🫡
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inkskinned · 3 months
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the car broke down by the denny's where you used to work and therefore could never return to. i am trying to pick out the satisfying parts of my life, one-by-one, like i am 12 and in a frog dissection. everything in my life all viscera and formaldehyde. if i can sort the good things from the bad things, i will have a nice clean pile.
i call you and make it sound like i am happy and hangin' in there! when really i am kicking a rock and i am outside without a jacket and i am so in love with you it makes the little bones in my ear shake. someone called my tinnitus an angel choir. i like that it means i carry the echo of every concert.
this isn't the right setting for love. this is a roadside, and a denny's, and i am nauseous and ashamed i never escaped the town where i grew up. the clouds here are this strange yellow, like spilled sour milk. "someone once told me that the orange coating on the teeth of a beaver is due to the particularly high rate of iron in their enamel," i tell you. "the beaver is the largest rodent native to north america."
your voice is crackly on the other end. i'm going into a garage soon, i might lose you.
what i should be doing is calling the tow truck and explaining that my brother's car (that i'm borrowing) (that i broke now, i guess) needs to be lifted by another, bigger, stronger car (which is love too, i guess).
i shouldn't say so much. i should wait, and let you ask about my mom, and ask if i ever got over that cold, or how it's going at work. i should let you lead the conversation, for once, so the love doesn't leak out of me into the gravel. i open my mouth anyway. "if you had to choose between being a beaver with very few trees or being a tree around a bunch of beavers, which would it be?"
i don't know. your voice always has this warm cast to it when you talk to me, but maybe i am just imagining that - i am a poet, though, so i imagine things sort of chronically. through the static, you sound like you're laughing. are you the beaver?
i know, like, logically, not to fall in love with a girl-that-is-your-best-friend. like, who would i even call if we broke up? you're my best friend, you're the person i'd want to speak to. so what if these last few months we keep sleeping over at each other's houses, calling each other for hours, sending each other poems. so what if you keep wrapping your fingers into mine. no best friends. that is the first rule. what you are supposed to do in that situation is leave the situation.
but my car broke down, so. where exactly am i going to go? the car is a very-old chevvy and also where i almost-but-not-quite kissed you after you'd raised one shoulder and looked up at me and said i don't know, i think i'm straight, but for the right person - i'd try anything. the music had been good and it had been raining and your thick eyelashes had made me feel god crawling up my throat like a spider. and i didn't kiss you, because i am a coward.
anyway on the chevy the whole exhaust pipe fell out, and is now scraping on the ground like one silver finger stroking the back of the highway. recently we were watching netflix in my bed and you pushed my hair back from my face like you were making the slowest, most desperate prayer, and then your boyfriend called. i remember us both jumping. i couldn't look at you in the eyes for like a week after. i kept feeling the heat of your fingerprint; computer science, you'd unlocked something dark in me.
google says the closest tow (joe's pick up) is 50 minutes away and also closed permanently. so that's not great. you live in another state and i should be calling my insurance company. i should be calling anybody else. this is not helping. i need an uber. i need to get moving. instead i say: "i need three words for a poem."
yesterday i said love you, goodnight after our 2 hour call like always and then you just, like. paused. all i could hear was your breathing. and then you'd said what a pretty three-word poem. i love you too, sweet thing. the words made my tinnitus act up again, and i must have some kind of synesthesia, because the sound travelled into my mind until it became the shape wedding rings.
orange, you say. the static is now chewing through most of your words and i only catch - borrowing the chevy -
the call dies. i have 12% battery. i never get the 3rd word, but i know you're still going to get a poem from me. actually this rest stop is kind of pretty, and so is the exhaust pipe, and so is joe's pick up, and so are the clouds. the light here is the color of a glue trap. before you worked at the denny's, we used to get milkshakes every wednesday and called it a friend date. you said you'd wanted to work there because it reminded you of me.
the sign's gone dim. the letters now spell out deny. and isn't that something.
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bioswear · 1 year
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I wish I could teleport I feel so silly taking my whole ass car out for a five minute drive to the pharmacy that’s like not even a mile away but it is up a steep incline and idk I don’t want to walk up a steep hill for 18 minutes just to get medication
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nnon0 · 1 month
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J.Jaehyun Fic Recommendations
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For all the Jae lovers :)
🫀- favorites
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(🫀) Stars, moons and other celestial bodies @kiachiako
WC: 26.7k Brother!Taeyong Retro-themed AU
With your fizzy drinks and vinyls in tow, you’re determined to make the most of your summer before the start of your first year at university. Everything’s seemingly perfect; humid afternoons with your closest friends, late-night mixers at your local alumnis' estates, and sleeping in to ungodly hours. What you didn’t predict, however, was your brother making the early trip home to surprise you with a certain someone — namely, his best friend since childhood — following closely behind. His unexpected appearance throws you off, and suddenly, your summer is filled to the brim with his presence. You’re finally able to taste the idea of mature love, but is it really all that it’s made out to be?
FIVE PLUS ONE @ppangjae
WC: 28.8k+ Chef!Jaehyun, enemies to lovers
Five times world-renowned chef Jeong Jaehyun tried to end your journey to be a chef  because you weren’t ‘qualified enough to be a chef’ and that one time you proved him wrong. 
(🫀) King Of the Streets @anashins
WC: 28k Streetracer!jaehyun x Journalist!reader
The moment you find yourself hiding in the backseat of a sports car that's illegally racing through the city, you just know this story will finally catapult you to the top of your journalism career. But there are a few things you haven't reckoned: How personal this story will eventually turn - and the driver's sheer insatiable craving for lollipops. And for you.
The V Week Spy @smileysuh
WC: 20.1k Frat!au Jaehyun x afab!reader
Every year, seven days before Valentines day, sororities and frats are paired together, and eligible himbos, hoes, bimbos and fuckboys alike volunteer to be raffled for a chance to become the year’s V Week Spy. V Week is open season, with outings and parties tailored to be the perfect excuse for sexscapades, with the knowledge than 1 boy and 1 girl are undercover, grading sexual performances. Once the week is over, at the annual Valentines Day Party, the evaluations are presented- It’s a bad time to be unsure about someone’s feelings towards you, and an even worse time to fall in love.
(🫀)HEARTS ARE WON AT PRACTICE @angelwonie
WC:21.2k Football player!Jaehyun , Enemies to friends to lovers
jung jaehyun is an obnoxious, way too handsome footballer whom you have no intention of getting to know. at least until a series of coincidences forces you to spend time with him, and you realize there might be more to him than what meets the eye.
Try Again @gimmehyuck
WC: 19.8k Idol!jaehyun x Teacher!reader
jaehyun remembers the night he met you, and even after that one night he often thought of you and wished things would have been different, but by a weird twist of fate he gets to see you again, except this time... you're not alone.
Runway @wincore
WC: 18.7k Model!jaehyun x Fashion designer!reader
there are some things that come with dedicating your life to fashion: a taste for finer fabrics, a splash of love for art, and an appreciation of the human body. none of these are supposed to include the hottest model you have ever laid eyes on, or the fact that you completely, utterly hate his guts. 
Christmas Puppy @smileysuh
WC: 11k Best friends brother/boy next door Jaehyun
“God, you’re so jealous,” you laugh. Your best friend’s brother doesn’t usually act this way, at his frat, everyone knows you’re his, no one would dare come near you- but here, in your hometown, surrounded by past crushes and would be romancables, it’s open season, and it’s clear that it’s making Jaehyun uncomfortable.
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kiachiako · 1 year
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stars, moons, & other celestial bodies | j.jh
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pairing | jaehyun x female!reader
synopsis | With your fizzy drinks and vinyls in tow, you’re determined to make the most of your summer before the start of your first year at university. Everything’s seemingly perfect; humid afternoons with your closest friends, late-night mixers at your local alumnis' estates, and sleeping in to ungodly hours. What you didn’t predict, however, was your brother making the early trip home to surprise you with a certain someone — namely, his best friend since childhood — following closely behind. His unexpected appearance throws you off, and suddenly, your summer is filled to the brim with his presence. You’re finally able to taste the idea of mature love, but is it really all that it’s made out to be?
content | brother!taeyong, retro-themed au, angst, fluff, coming of age, language warning, suggestive, mentions and consumption of alcohol/drugs
wc | 26.7k
song | delicate — taylor swift
a/n | for @hyuckmov and @rrxnjun, who kept me sane while writing this monster :D
...
The first week of summer before your freshman year of university is defined by sticky ‘n sweet cherry cola, rides around the abandoned carousel with your friends, and “borrowing” quarters out of your brother’s Cadillac to insert into the jukebox of the local diner; break has been this way since as long as you could remember. It's a familiar itinerary, one that plays back routinely every school break.
You’ve grown up without even realizing, your teenage days spent juggling academic work and getting into stupid situations with Mark and Chaewon trickling down to a close. This conclusion really hit you during an epiphany on a sweltering night after high school graduation. 
It occurred in the midst of humid sepia air, the three of you still in your graduation caps and gowns as your bodies lay splayed across the asphalt leading down to your street. With the absence of cars coming down the wide road, it was perfectly rational to lay side by side in the middle of the cul-de-sac. The ground was simply the best place to ponder your thoughts and get lost in swirling memories now that university lay too close on the horizon; the sheer size of the sky seemed to mock your trio as you watched the clouds roll on by in their mismatched shapes and harrowing wisps. 
A cigar — one comically too big for his face — hung between Mark’s fingers as he pushed his body to flop over your arm, the thing no doubt “borrowed” from the bottom of his father’s office drawer.
“Thank the Lord I’ll never have to see you bitches again,” he had sighed in pretend relief, blowing a tunnel of smoke into the side of your face as you pushed his warm skin off of yours. Chaewon snorted from beside you.
“Please, as if you’ll last a day without us at uni,” she retorted, rolling over onto her stomach and pulling a face at Mark’s teasing words. “I can’t even count the amount of times I’ve saved your life over this past month alone.”
“Yeah?” Mark grinned, supporting his upper body with his forearms as he turned to look at her over your relaxed figure. “Enlighten me.” She subsequently raised her eyebrows at him.
“Might I remind you of the time you got stuck at the drive-through cinema at 2am because you had locked yourself out of your car? And guess whose asses had to haul yours back home two hours away,” Chaewon pointed an accusing finger at Mark, her tone joking as she glared at said boy. He opened his mouth to say something but she held up a finger to her mouth in a shushing motion, stopping him. “And. Let’s not forget last week,” Mark furrowed his eyebrows, as if trying to recall which out of all the dumb decisions he had made was about to be relived, “when Kang Yujin pushed up on you during that one house party, you got a hard on from just that, and we had to cover for you-”
Mark shot up abruptly, leaning over you to slap a hand over Chaewon’s mouth before rushing to defend himself.
“But she was so hot, Chae, you wouldn’t understand,” he whined at her, frowning at you to do something and sympathize with him. It was expected by now, the regular petty and half-assed arguments making your friendship that much stronger.
As they continued bickering back and forth, you couldn’t help but let your mind drift away back into the clouds, the setting sun soaking them with a blazing, burnt umber. You would be going to college soon, and that meant no Mark, no Chaewon, and no parents to keep you sane. It was strange to imagine not spending every waking moment with your two best friends, and even stranger to think that going to different schools would mean no more daily drama fill-ins and midnight convenience store runs.
But after all, you had done it once, and you hoped you could do it again.
When your older brother Taeyong left for university a few years ago, it had practically shattered you. Sure, you found him incredibly annoying at times (still do) and had a constant vendetta against the man, but when the moment came to hug him goodbye, you just couldn’t bring yourself to let go. He had shown you the ins and outs of adolescence and given you the attention you craved when your parents couldn’t. He taught you how to take care of yourself, how to look in the mirror and recognize your worth, how to know your own limits, and how to realize that high school boys weren’t shit. He was always the first to get to the hospital when you had gotten hurt at school, and most important of all, he was with you throughout the highs and lows growing up.
If Taeyong leaving home had taught you anything, it was that time moves too fast — and it’ll only move faster as you get older. You know that your life is about to enter Round 2, and this time without anyone to hold your hand as you enter an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people.
But it’s not over just yet.
Your best friends would never let that happen, and you recognize this now as your golden trio sits in your town’s local record shop, with ceiling fans whirring above you as the cool storefront protects you from the blazing summer heat.
It’s after-hours but the sun still burns bright into the late afternoon. You recline in the cashier chair as Chaewon flips the 'open' sign closed and makes her way back to you and Mark, the latter sitting against the wall with a variety of bottles surrounding him on the checkered floor. 
He’s in an odd position, and you just know his mother would flip if she saw him with this much alcohol on a wednesday afternoon (at least it’s not a Sunday after mass, but she definitely doesn’t need to know that he’s been there, done that already). Mark tests out new concoctions every week, using the record store as his work space; the owner’s never in town and barely any customers come in to buy records these days, so there’s no one to stop him. Chaewon raises her eyebrows as she eyes the newest addition to his special menu.
“I’m not even gonna ask,” you say as he swirls the amber liquid around in a clean whisky bottle. Mark whistles at his creation, impressed, before holding it up to you and shaking it tauntingly. It smells slightly floral, the sharp flavors of absinthe and cognac making your nose scrunch.
“You’re just mad that your mixes don’t hit as hard as mine, baby.” With another swirl, he lifts the drink up to his mouth to taste. “And because you so nicely asked,” Mark smirks at you, “it’s Peychaud’s Bitters, cognac, syrup, and anise, and I give you my permission to borrow the recipe to impress your future uni friends. You’re welcome.” You shove Mark’s shoulder with your palm as he laughs at your baffled expression, body shaking with amusement while he sips away at his newest pride. 
It’s only when Chaewon reaches over to steal the bottle away from him that your phone starts ringing, startling all three of you as the name of your older brother flashes across the screen. Mark looks at you inquisitively, but you just shrug in response and press the receive button.
“Tae?” you inquire, surprised at the sudden call. “Everything okay?”
He hums at the end of the line. 
“More than okay. Guess whose plans just changed and is actually coming home today for break,” he reveals right away, and you know he’s smiling by the way his tone of voice is lilted in true Taeyong fashion.
“No fucking way,” you breathe out, eyes widening. Taeyong’s back? “Today, right now? For the entire summer? You’re actually lying- wait wait I’m coming home right now. Wait. Wait for me.”
“‘Wait wait wait,’ I’m not going anywhere sis,” he grins as he mocks you, noises of shuffling sounding out over your phone speaker. “Mom’s gonna pick me up from the airport in 30, I think. See you then?”
“Lee Taeyong! How could you not tell me,” you frown into the receiver, “I need at least three business days to prepare before seeing your face.”
“Oh, shut up would you. I have literal voicemail receipts of you crying about how much you miss me,” Taeyong retorts, topping your sarcasm. 
You sigh, rubbing your temple when you realize that Taeyong’s never gonna let your sad-drunk voicemails go. “Fine, but you better spend every single day with me.”
Taeyong protests jokingly before giving in, promising you that he’ll make up for the time you’ve missed together. With a little, love you, and more of his usual unsolicited comments, the two of you say your quick goodbyes and you turn back to your waiting friends. 
“Damn, Taeyong’s really back?” Mark looks at you in awe, his eyes shining with admiration. “He never stays for long, that’s crazy. You gotta let me come over at least once,” he pleads, hands grabbing yours. You know that your best friend looks up to your brother a ton, so you nod at him. “Sick, imma finally be able to talk music with him.”
“Wait, if Taeyong’s coming home for the entire summer,” Chaewon pauses, a knowing smile growing on her face as you groan, knowing exactly what she’s about to say next, “that means a certain Jeong Jaehyun will probably be following him back as well. And likely other kids in their year too from SNU… holy shit, the parties are gonna be literally insane this summer.” She throws her head back in elation as the realization strikes the three of you at once.
“You’re so right,” Mark covers his mouth to hide the smug grin taking over his face. He makes a heart with his hands as he observes you. “I can’t believe that I forgot Miss Y/N over here had the biggest crush on Jaehyun in high school.” You hit him on the chest in response as he absolutely loses it over your misfortune. 
“Lovergirl,” he sing-songs, adding fuel to the fire while you shove your face into your palms. Your cheeks warm on their own when your mind flash-backs to your second year of high school, your insufferable crush on your brother’s best friend surfacing memories that you had buried after they both had graduated two years ago.
“I’m leaving,” you mumble into your hands, “all you two do is make me suffer.” 
Chaewon grins at you before pulling your figure into a tight hug, tugging Mark in too by his shirt to join your little group. 
“It’s out of love,” she giggles before kissing your cheek with an exaggerated muah. Turning slowly towards Mark, he lets out a, “nope nope nope,” before scrambling away from Chaewon’s outstretched arms.
Smiling at their antics, you collect your few belongings and tuck some new records under your arm before heading out of the shop. Saluting your friends goodbye and opening the front door, you cringe at the wave of heat that seeps into the cool space. 
“Say hi to Taeyong for me, Y/N! We’ll lock up for today,” Chaewon calls out from behind the counter, sending you an air kiss when you step out into your town’s center square.
The streets buzz with life as you make the quick walk back to your house. With a brilliant sunset soaking the streets in tangerine tones and a line of quaint shops’ wind chimes fluttering beside you, you can’t bring yourself to care about the heat. The alleys you stroll down are comfy, lined with the latest pastel DeLoreans and colorful paper garlands tied along their telephone lines. It’s a complete memory lane, and your comfy suburb — filled with traditional gaewa roofs and terracotta neutrals, clay-red stained roads and gated hanoks — hold a familiarity that no other could replace. It’s the more cramped side of town, and you might envy Taeyong’s thrilling city life that you see through his social media, but nothing will ever beat home.
Your lace camisole sticks to your skin with fervor as you finally get to your own address, letting out a sigh of relief when cool shade encompasses you in the juniper-tinted light of the mudroom. Setting your brand-new records onto the kitchen floor, their faded titles peeking over thin paper sheaths, you make yourself comfortable on the floor as you hum to yourself. The house is quiet.
You put one of the new records into your player before your gaze drifts over to a stack of pictures on the tabletop, filtered evenly between stray letters and tacky postcards that your older brother has always had a knack for. 
In addition to texting and calling home every month, Taeyong made it a habit a few years ago to send you the little magazine cut-outs and mini posters that he sees on his escapades, trinkets that remind him of you. Your little kitchen-counter-collection has thinned out in the past months as your brother got increasingly busier with school and his modeling jobs, barely coming home for a few days before rushing back for castings and elite functions. Nonetheless, a little orange package addressed to you would appear at your doorstep with each change of the seasons, tinged with your brother’s cologne and topped with his messy handwriting.
Just as you place the needle on a shiny black record with Missy Elliot’s face plastered across its front, you hear the front door creak open before noises of rolling luggage and playful shouting fill the house's interior. 
“Mom, I’m not ten anymore,” you hear Taeyong whine in the higher-pitched voice he reserves solely for family, the telltale sign of his embarrassment, “I can carry my backpack myself. Promise.”
You can imagine the scene before you even see it: your brother looking away to the window as he tries to fight the smile creeping on his face, your mother on her tip-toes as she musses with her son’s hair even though he’s a head taller, and of course, your father leaning against the door with a content grin as his watches his wife’s face light up with happiness that the family is together again.
When you hear their footsteps near your seated figure on the kitchen floor, you feel your brother’s presence before you even see him. 
Taeyong stops a few paces away from you, dropping his bag carelessly on the ground before standing with his arms outstretched and eyebrows raised. With his messy hair and airport clothes still hanging off his shoulders, your brother looks like a favorite uncle at holiday dinners when he hasn’t seen his favorite niece and nephew all year.
“Aren’t you gonna come say hi to your best friend before you abandon me for your vinyls again,” he teases before crossing the threshold in three steps and embracing you fully. “It’s been a while, hmm rockstar?” 
You hum at the familiar term of endearment, sinking into his figure as your brother rocks you back and forth. You look up at him, his face looking more mature and sharp than when you saw him last.
“You gotta catch me up on that crazy life of yours, yeah? We have all summer.”
Nodding contently, you follow your brother and parents into the dining room for dinner before settling back into the feeling of having four people at home again. Just like the old days, before Taeyong left, where your worries were limited and you allowed yourself to be childish.
If anything makes you glad you’re alive, it’s being able to wake up at 2pm in the afternoon on a Thursday and feeling you just gained ten years. It’s truly a blessing, and if you were a bit more religious, you’d be thanking God right now for no school and black-out curtains.
Quickly getting ready, you give one last glance at yourself in the mirror before rushing downstairs to see if anyone’s home still. To your surprise, you catch Taeyong right as he’s opening the door to the basement. 
“So she’s alive,” he calls out with an approving nod, surprised that you actually managed to wake up before the sun sets once again. You roll your eyes as you pull cereal in front of you on the kitchen table. The two of you are back to your old ways in a matter of hours, making fun of each other at every chance you get.
“It’s not my fault you don’t know how to enjoy life, Tae,” you shrug, grabbing leftovers from the fridge. He simply tsks at you before walking over to affectionately ruffle your hair, drawing a complaint from you about messing it up.
“Anyway, some of my old friends are coming over today to catch up. We’re probably gonna be downstairs for a while so just let them in the front when they come,” your brother relays, moving back towards the basement when you throw up an okay sign. He gives you a knowing look. “You’re always welcome to join, you know. They all love you.”
You crinkle your nose at the idea. Sure, you’re pretty familiar with most of Taeyong’s high school friends, but you really aren’t too keen on the idea of spending your afternoon with a bunch of older boys when you could be hanging out with Mark and Chaewon.
“I’m okay. You guys have fun, though.”
Resuming your attention on your food, you open the front door a couple times over the next hour for said boys. Their features chiseled, styles changed, and voices a bit deeper, they’re all caught by surprise when you open the door for them (Yuta’s inability to recognise you at all really takes the cake). You suppose that a lot can change in two years.
After the seventh ring of the doorbell, you sigh in exasperation before making your way to the front once again. You grumble under your breath before opening the door, the bitter expression wiping right off your face when you see the two figures in front of you.
“Johnny!”
“Y/N,” the familiar boy exclaims, his towering stature enveloping you in a warm hug before pulling back and examining your growth. “Look who’s all pretty and grown! You look so much like Taeyong now that it’s scary,” he beams at you while turning your face side to side with his hands, and you can’t help but return it. If anyone was as much of an older brother figure as your real one was, it would be Johnny. 
“Hey,” a voice sounds out besides him after a few moments of Johnny’s compliments, startling you, and your eyes finally flick over to the subject of your teenage years’ daydreams. Your heart floods with a jittery feeling when he reaches out to give you a hug. “It’s nice to see you again, Y/N.” 
Jeong Jaehyun hasn’t changed a bit since you last saw him at your brother’s graduation. 
His hair is a bit longer now, dark brown curls shimmering gold in the sunlight and his ears now adorned with more silver studs and rings. But the sun-kissed freckles dusting his nose, the deep-set dimples, the starry eyes — they’re exactly the same as you remember.
He’s still breathtaking.
Johnny bursts your little moment as he grabs your arm to lead you back into your house, pulling both you and Jaehyun along with him to the basement entrance. 
Even though you’re painfully aware of your fingers nervously playing with the bracelets on your wrist, it’s true that these boys practically watched you grow up. Even when you look at a certain brown-eyed boy, your whole world feels like it's stopping. Even when your stupid childhood crush on your brother’s best friend was supposed to be gone by now. You know them, and they know you.
After Johnny and Jaehyun disappear down the stairs with a small goodbye and the invitation to join them once again, you head back up to your own room, collapsing onto your bed and staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars plastered across your ceiling. 
You remember your brother and Jaehyun setting them up for you many years ago, their young figures using your bed as leverage to stick them on when you were still too short to reach. You had handed each star carefully to the boys, making sure the adhesive side was up before telling them where to place each one. They waited patiently for you to give them every star until the whole box was empty, the three of you high fiving before you had thanked them enthusiastically. Taeyong had simply pinched your cheek and said, “anything for my baby sister,” before pulling Jaehyun away to play another video game in the living room. 
Taeyong was a kind older brother, never complaining when your mother told him to bring you with him and his friends on their little adventures. Occasionally he found you annoying, but his friends never minded your presence, so he couldn’t find a reason to either. You were integrated into their daily outings, the boys taking turns talking and playing games with you as the days progressed.
You think your liking to Jaehyun started then: when your young mind easily confused admiration with puppy love. Your brother’s friends were the nicest boys you had met, certainly nicer than the boys in your class at school. Jaehyun specifically always made sure you were comfortable, making silly faces at you when your eyes met across the room and remembering to bring you snacks from across the street when he got some for his best friend. He was perfect in your eyes.
When you started hanging out more with your own friends as you got older, things never really changed regarding your feelings for the boy. Your secret crush was still as prominent as ever, eyes following his mess of hair whenever he passed you in the hallway at school; it didn’t help that his name was passed around no matter what year you were. Jaehyun this and Jaehyun that, you were definitely not the only girl whose heartbeat stopped whenever he looked their way. He was polite, confident, and undeniably charming, your school’s beloved basketball team captain and a favorite of teachers: the kind of boy everyone wanted to be out of envy, but couldn’t. He was truly untouchable. Your classmates would stare at you in awe when he waved at you through the classroom entrance, telling you how lucky you were that your brother and his group were so cool and how you had guys like Jaehyun over all the time. 
But it wasn’t like it was any different at home, where he would smile at you just the same as you worked on your homework in the kitchen before retreating back into the basement with Taeyong. 
Even though fifteen year-old you thought your feelings were pretty damn strong at that time, the age gap felt a bit too gaping where kids two years older felt worlds away. By seventeen, they were already off driving and taking weekend trips, your brother’s license making leeway for nights when he and his friends wouldn’t return until sunrise. It felt a little bit like you had been left behind, and yeah, it sucked, but you decided right then and there that you could have fun without them. Taeyong’s friends weren’t necessarily yours in the first place, and you came to the realization that it might have been strange for you to be so close with them at an older age anyway.
If you were sad about not seeing Jaehyun in particular too much anymore, you tried not to show it. Your best friends — Mark and Chaewon — had always known, teasing you relentlessly when the older boy was around, but the idea of him was only a lingering thought at the back of your mind when he graduated. Your ears still perked up hearing his name in passing, but you had your own problems to consume your thoughts and started getting into a new genre of trouble with your friends; the idea of Jaehyun was supposed to be dead and buried six feet under.
So then why was he plaguing your mind like this after years of successfully not thinking about him?
You groan and throw an arm over your face.
Shit.
“My little film-maker,” a voice pops up from above you, the grinning face of your brother accompanying it as he surprises you into oblivion. You make a face up at him and offer a reluctant little wave before returning back to your camcorder, zooming in on Chaewon beside you.
You’re on the asphalt outside your house again. The air’s cooler today, a gray sheet of clouds blocking any of the sun’s rays from reaching your golden trio. With your head on Mark’s legs, he strums his guitar gently as Chaewon hums along to the familiar tunes. Her hands are busy on their own, one arm out while her other uses markers to draw a garden into her skin with washed-out blues and oranges. 
You turn the camera around to point at Taeyong, the said boy poking his tongue out before plopping down beside Mark.
“I feel like I always find you guys on the ground,” he mutters, observing the way Mark strums his instrument with care and experience. Your friend looks a little intimidated with the proximity of Taeyong leaning towards him, but he plays on nevertheless.
You shrug. “It’s more comfortable.”
“And we’re a little closer to Hell down here,” Chaewon adds on with a grin, pausing from her flesh-art to look up at Taeyong. “We’ll all be heading there soon anyway.”
“Smart girl,” he laughs out, throwing his head back to stare into the sky. He stays there for a good moment before jumping back up onto his feet and twirling a shiny set of car keys around his fingers. “Anyway, I’m afraid I’ll have to steal Y/N for a bit,” your brother fakes a trail of tears down his cheek with his fist. “Don’t miss her too much.”
“Never,” Mark smirks at you, reaching out to pat your arm affectionately when you let out an offended, Oscar worthy sob at his words. 
“Don’t have more fun with him than you do with us, babe,” she calls out as Taeyong drags you off. You salute her back before she turns back to her painting.
Stumbling behind your brother to catch up with his long strides, your eyebrows raise when you catch sight of his infamous red Cadillac parked down the winding road. You grip on tighter to your camcorder before jogging up to the passenger side, ready to swing your legs over the side of the convertible. 
“Not so fast,” Taeyong calls out, amused, as he strolls up casually to the driver's side. “We’re picking up some of the guys and Johnny already called shotgun yesterday. Take it up with him, rockstar.”
You splutter indignantly before crossing to the backseat with a huff, sinking into the car’s tan, leather seats and crossing your arms. “Not fair, Tae,” you complain at him before he starts the engine, starting off in the direction of an area you’ve never been before. “Where are we even going?”
He doesn’t answer.
Soon enough, three more bodies crowd into your brother’s car after dropping by Jungwoo’s condo, the boy squishing into the back with you as Jaehyun of all people slides into the seat on the other side of you. They offer smiles and quick greetings to you before the car takes off once again. 
His proximity hits you far harder than Jungwoo’s, and you know exactly why. You keep your head tilted away from him as you try to focus on Johnny in the front seat, who’s passionately retelling an encounter he had at the supermarket this morning. It’s incredibly hard when Jaehyun moves and his thigh touches yours, fifteen year-old you coming back to life within you and screaming all sorts of insane things at your brain. You can physically feel his warmth radiating off his skin. 
“—so we both reach out at the same time, and luckily, I snatch the crate right before her hands do. But,” Johnny pauses to look through the rearview mirror for dramatic effect, his shades glinting as the Cadillac speeds through dusty roads. “You won’t believe who those hands belonged to.”
He stills with the skill of an A-list actor, reaching up to pluck the sunnies off his face and stare right into Jaehyun’s eyes through the silver glass.
“Lim Saemi.”
Everybody has a different reaction to the name-drop, with Jungwoo and Taeyong’s gasp and your muffled noise ringing out as your eyes widen in the slightest. You try to glance at Jaehyun subtly, and his face doesn’t flicker a bit from its usual stoic expression, but you can feel him tense up next to you before relaxing a few seconds later. He appears seemingly unphased, and if you had not been watching carefully from out of the corner of your eye you would have fallen for it.
You know better, though.
“Oh? Is she back home for the summer too?” Jaehyun throws out casually, tucking his chin in his hand as he looks out through the wind. 
“Wait Jae… you didn’t know? I thought if anyone would know first, it would be you,” Jungwoo leans back, surprised at this new development. “Even I knew, and everyone knows I don’t catch onto shit.”
“It’s whatever,” Jaehyun mumbles, deflecting the weird looks he receives. He ends the conversation with two words, and the car falls into silence with the only noises being those from tires against gravel. You glance at him before staring straight forward through the dash.
You know Lim Saemi.
Who doesn’t, in all honesty. Saemi is Saemi, and you’d be the weird one if you hadn’t heard her name at least once throughout your school years. She was like straight out of a Dior catalog. With as much impact as your older brother and his posse had left, she was everything all the girls in your year wanted to be: too pretty to be unnecessarily shallow, too smart to use her looks irrationally. 
You remember Lim Saemi.
She’s two years older, like Taeyong and Jaehyun and Johnny. She was the girl who was occasionally over at your house during parties when your brother would force you upstairs, her bleached hair and delicate features drawing in everyone immediately. You remember watching from the top of the stairwell as her figure still captured attention in the darkness of winter’s pitch black nights. From your outside point of view, it was like she was the center of a spindling web that stretched throughout the bottom floor of your house; people just couldn’t help but be lured to her.
You wanted to be Lim Saemi.
Just for one day. You needed to know what it felt like to be the center of a certain boy’s affections, even though she attracted every other person’s along the way as well. She was a different type of suburban it-girl, one that everyone was sure would get snatched up into the celebrity world sooner or later with the way she carried herself.
You knew that Jaehyun and Saemi had always been “just friends” — or at least that was what they told everyone — but you could tell he had liked her throughout their high school years. How could you not, especially when you looked at him the same way he looked at her. Back then, it was more curiosity about their complicated relationship than hate fueled jealousy for you. You still couldn’t help but imagine him treating you with the affection he did with her; even as a teenager, you understood why. And ironically, as you sit in the backseat of your brother’s car with the very boy right beside you, the bubbling feeling of envy is uncomfortable in your gut.
Shaking your head out of your retrospective thoughts, you look around in confusion when the convertible starts to slow on a thinning road, towering evergreens blocking the sky from view.
Leading the car through another winding path, it emerges on the other side within acres of grassy fields and wildflower paths that circles a grandiose, central estate home. Marble blocks stretch across its stone ledges like ivy — an intimidating facade if you’ve ever seen one. Taeyong looks at you through the rearview mirror. His eyes crease in pride when he sees the wonder in yours, enraptured by the sight before you. 
“Remember when Johnny said that he’d always wanted to go to a local car show?” your brother starts, grinning at his friend beside him. “Well, yours truly saw an ad at the record shop yesterday for one just outside of town. Someone compliment me, I feel like I just made all of our afternoons a thousand times better.”
“This is actually insane, Yong,” Jungwoo breathes out, eyes widening at the unfamiliar setting. 
Retro cars of all brands and models are parked across an acre, their shiny coats glinting in the sun as masses of people linger near and talk amongst themselves. The white pillars of whoever’s home is hosting the car show serves as a gathering place for lovers to mingle, precariously held champagne flutes an ironic contrast to the grit and dirt of the event itself.
Johnny lets out a low whistle before resting his weight on the center console and lowering his sunglasses, observing the scene. 
“This is exactly my type of place. Old, rich people and hot girls.” 
“Oh my god, Johnny,” you laugh out, not at all surprised that those words came from his mouth. 
You tear your gaze away from the outside view to look at Jaehyun after hearing his embarrassed groan at Johnny’s words. To your surprise, he’s already looking at you. With his piercing gaze on your face, you look away, flustered, playing it off with a small cough.
Taeyong parks his timeless Cadillac besides others of the same nature before leaving to roam around with Johnny and Jungwoo, buzzing with excitement. It’s no surprise that they make their way over to the group of girls huddled around a vintage truck model first, their giggles ringing out across the field as they throw sly glances to the boys headed their way. You catch sight of your brother leaning towards one in particular before deciding you’ve seen enough and turning to explore by yourself.
Thrilled to be left to your own devices, you follow your own little path off to the side towards a pastel-colored Corvette that had caught your eye earlier. Circling it for a few minutes and capturing it slowly through the lens of your camcorder, you smile happily to yourself while replaying the footage in the shade of a lonely willow tree. The cool breeze brings tangs of clementines and vanilla — from where, you don’t know — as well as the unmistakable scent of petrol and cigarettes as it picks up pieces of your hair before rustling the leaves of the willow.
“Can I see?” a familiar voice startles you. You look up to see Jaehyun’s lean figure making his way over to your crouched one, gesturing to your open camera with his head tilted. “If you’re comfortable, of course,” he adds, the corners of his lips quirking up. Mouth agape slightly for a few seconds, you shake yourself out of your momentary funk and nod, thrilled at his interest.
“The colors show up really well with this lighting, especially ‘cuz I just changed my saturation settings,” you mumble, stopping yourself when you realize he probably doesn’t care that much. Tucking your knees to your chest, you wait nervously as you hand the device to him.
You think your heartbeat just about stops when he replies with a “that’s so cool” under his breath.
Jaehyun holds the camera carefully to his chest before sitting down beside you, leaning against the tree trunk before flipping through your gallery. He takes his time watching every little video clip and picture, giving you a little noise of approval every few clicks. 
You’re caught off guard when he sighs and puts the camcorder back in your lap, turning to you with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen grace his features. 
“Y/N, you seriously might be better at this shit than the literal mixed media majors at my uni,” he deadpans. Taken aback, you can’t stop the rosy warmth that creeps up your cheeks. “I’m being so for real right now. Don’t ever stop.”
You pause.
“Do you know how reassuring that is to hear, especially from you?” you say with sincerity, holding eye contact with him.
“Hmm? Really, me?”
“Yeah. It feels like I’m doing something right, like I’m not wasting my time on a fruitless hobby.” Confessing one of your biggest fears to someone who’s familiar to you but not, close to you but not — now that’s probably one of the craziest things you’ve done this week, and you do a whole lot of crazy things in a week.
Jaehyun’s expression changes with your words. He doesn’t reply for a while, just seeming to take in the world around him with only his eyes. Looking from the drooping branches of the willow to its dirt-ingrained roots, his face is cast downwards with a faint, melancholic smile.
Now the mood is ruined, you think to yourself, bitter. Why do I always do this?
Before you can change the subject and move on from your awkward burt-out, he clears his throat. 
“You know, I admire you a lot Y/N. You and Taeyong,” he starts, the slim chain around his neck glittering in the afternoon sun when he turns back to you. “Both of you have always been unafraid to pursue the arts, even though I know how your strict parents are about future careers and all that. I wish I had the courage to just… do what I like instead of being a pushover with my dad. Maybe I would be doing music with your brother instead of barely living day by day in pre-med.”
His usual confident eyes are tinged with regret and a little vulnerability as he ruffles his hair in the wind. You tilt your head at him, trying to come up with comforting words when you aren’t so sure if you’re qualified to give him advice in the first place.
“Well… I admire you a lot, Jaehyun. You’ve always been that one person who consistently looks like they have their life in check, someone who’s able to put their all in everything that they do. It’s really a quality to be proud of,” you say to him honestly. “I think you’ll do well wherever you end up. So don’t worry too much, okay?”
The boy stares at you like no one’s ever said that to him, and no one has; even if this might be a passing comment for you, it’s something that he feels relief to finally hear.
“Thanks.” He says it so quietly that you almost miss it, but you can hear the gratefulness in his voice nevertheless. You both look away for a few seconds when a brilliant yellow bird flutters past the two of you, settling on the ground in front to peck at a white speck in the soil. “Pretty,” he mumbles under his breath, blinking at the animal.
And with that, Jaehyun shakes his head a bit before resuming back to his relaxed demeanor. He lets out a breath of air and runs his tongue over his teeth. 
“Sorry for getting so deep all of a sudden,” he apologies, sheepishly rubbing his neck as you let out a little laugh.
“No, it’s nice to hear that the Valentine Boy has troubles too,” you tease lightly, recalling the God-like aura he used to carry 24/7 when you were younger and the nick-name that followed him around as a result. Jaehyun visibly cringes at your words, no doubt getting high school flashbacks.
“Not that,” he replies, embarrassed. “Anyway, I feel like I haven’t gotten the chance yet to ask you how you’ve been these past few years.” You glance up at him in surprise. He sounds strangely sincere for someone you weren’t that close with out of your brother’s friends, and the confusion must show on your face because he finds it in himself to clarify. “Oh come on, Y/N. I feel like we’ve known each other since forever but I’ve missed a crucial part of your growing up. You’re like a whole different person now.”
“I’d hope so,” you lament, fiddling with your camcorder. “I’ve gone through too much shit to be the same as sixteen-year old me.” Jaehyun laughs out loud at your answer, knowing exactly how you feel as someone who was once a fresh, high school graduate.
“Yeah? Well it seems like just yesterday when you were complaining about being bored after school from not having enough homework—” he stumbles over his words when you push his body with a light shove, the boy barely able to get breaths in with how much he’s laughing at your past cluelessness of how hard high school would really be.
“None of you guys warned me about the horror of calculus, so that is not my fault Jaehyun,” you pout, shaking your head at him.
“So it’s my fault?” he smiles, questioning your statement.
“Yes.” A lie.
“And I’m the reason why you almost failed second semester math?”
“Yes.” Another lie. Wait. “What— how do you even know about that?” You demand, incredulous. Jaehyun just raises his eyebrows and hides his growing grin behind his hand. “Fucking Lee Taeyong.”
He looks overjoyed at your seething, playfully poking out his bottom lip in a mock-frown before getting up and dusting off his pants. Offering a hand to you, Jaehyun uses his strength to pull you to your feet; you’re hyper-aware of the warmth of his palm as your hands linger for a millisecond before he pulls away. 
I’m so screwed, you think to yourself, blinking at the sky with fervor. Shaking your head, you tuck your hand to your side and try not to think of his skin on yours.
“They’re finally done flirting,” he notes with a hum, making an acute observation as you both spy the three other boys heading back to the car, their reluctant forms obvious when you see one girl hold up her hands in a ‘call me’ sign.
Smirking, you skip ahead of Jaehyun before turning back and waving your wallet at him.
“25000 won that we’ll see one of those girls walk out of Tae’s room tomorrow morning,” you chant as Jaehyun jogs to catch up with you. Chuckling, he pushes your wallet away.
“Nah, that man doesn’t give a fuck about the time of day. 25000 that she’s gonna be at your house in twenty,” he counters, snorting when you gag at the thought.
You can’t help but light up at his content face; this feels like this is the first time you’ve ever had a real, honest to goodness, conversation with him as a young adult.
And you’re in trouble, because you think you like it more than you should.
“I did it,” Chaewon confesses over the phone, the sound of a knife against a chopping board from her end revealing her current position.
“What,” you inquire, “you finally passed your license test?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Never.” You flash a wicked grin at the sheet music in your hands, shuffling through the never-ending leaflets. 
When Taeyong had said he’d pay you to organize his papers, you clearly weren’t thinking straight enough to be saying yes to this hell. He’s been out for an hour already and not even a third of the pile is sorted through. You slump forward on the couch and shake out your tired hands, groaning when your knuckle hits the coffee table with a painful thump.
“For your information, I don’t need to drive. Hot girls take public transportation,” she retorts with a humph.
“Can’t argue with you there, passenger princess.”
“Oh please, I can literally feel the sarcasm dripping from your voice.”
You laugh, a “you know me, Chae” accompanying the sound ringing out through your empty house. Gathering Taeyong’s work into your arms and dumping the rest on the table, you slide onto the carpeted ground with a sigh. Your bones are overly sore from sitting for too long and the couches seams have made painful, little white imprints on your thighs. With a click of your tongue, you inwardly curse your brother for offering such good deals to a minimum wage paid, about-to-be uni kid, or else you wouldn't be spending a perfectly good Saturday afternoon on whatever this is.
“So,” you prompt, “what did you do this time.”
“Ha,” Chaewon starts.
“I’m scared.”
“Ran into Jaehyun today.”
“Aaand that’s my cue to hang up now,” you sing, slipping the phone between your shoulder and ear, the warm device tucked neatly in the crevice of your neck before you hear the sound of your doorbell ringing out. 
“Wait—”
“Hold on for a sec, Chae. Someone’s at the door.” 
You will yourself to get up from the carpet before making your way over to the front of the house, preparing yourself for a blast of hot summer air to hit you. The silver knob twists under your hand as you swing the door open slowly, expecting the mailman or a delivery on your front porch. Certainly not—
“—Hey.”
Your eyes flick up in surprise.
“Oh shit,” Chaewon whispers over the phone. “That’s not who I think it is, right?”
It’s been a week since you last saw Jaehyun face to face, and your conflicted inner thoughts have been battling in your conscience for the entirety of it. Well, this isn’t great.
“Hi Jaehyun,” you manage to sound out, mentally chastising yourself for sounding so nervous.
“And that’s my cue to hang up now,” the voice at the other end of your call snickers, the long beep of it ending blaring into your ear. 
Your arm drops to your side, phone in hand, as you stare pointedly at Chaewon’s contact info lighting up the screen, her eyes mocking you through her profile picture. Jaehyun lifts an eyebrow as he looks between your phone and your face, seemingly questioning if you’re currently busy through his eyes alone.
“Umm…” your gaze flits around in flusteration, looking just about anywhere but him. “Taeyong’s not home right now, if that’s why you’re here.”
“Oh? Do you know when he’ll be back?” he asks, relaxed as he leans his body against the doorframe.
“He’s picking up stuff from Johnny’s across town, so like,” you glance up at the clock, “an hour? I could uh… call you when he gets back if you want.”
Jaehyun simply pokes his tongue into his cheek in contemplation before tucking his hands into his pockets.
“Nah, it’s okay. I’ll just stay.” With a small smile, he adds on, “if you're okay with that, of course.”
You peer past him to see his shiny black Mustang sitting in front of your house, before returning to your original position and shrugging at the foyer. Losing your shyness momentarily as you let out a puff of air, you follow Jaehyun in before deciding to answer.
“My company is a blessing in itself, isn’t it,” you think out loud, displaying a cheeky smile when Jaehyun turns around to playfully scoff at you.
“Now that’s a sure thing, Y/N.” 
The boy seats himself on one of the kitchen barstools and places his chin in his hand, leaning over the counter to stare at you as you busy yourself with the fridge.
In all honesty, you weren’t prepared to see him again. He’s already been occupying your mind a little too much for your liking during this past week, the idea of his return to your life teetering you on the edge of insanity. You didn’t know high school crushes hit that hard two years later, and it certainly doesn’t help that his golden skin and constellation of tawny freckles have made an almost daily appearance in the Lee household — just like the old times.
“I think we still have that special glass-bottled lemonade from the farmer’s market last weekend, unless,” you pause, sifting through the multitude of items in the ice box. “Yup. Nevermind. Taeyong finished all of them.”
Jaehyun snorts, already familiar with his best friend’s midnight tendencies of clearing out the fridge whenever, wherever.
“We also have water? And um… milk. And Vodka.”
“This sounds like Yuta’s fridge, and that thought alone is like, genuinely terrifying,” Jaehyun observes from behind you. You shake your head, recalling the first time you saw the said boy’s freezer stash of condiments and liquor at a house party a few years ago. Only condiments and liquor.
“Oh! And cold noodles,” you hold up the container with a little shake. “I remember you liking my mom’s version of them,” you mumble quietly, willing yourself to turn around when the cold air from the fridge starts to sting your eyes.
Jaehyun observes you curiously, a question at the tip of his tongue. You remember?
He stops himself from blurting it out when you seat yourself across from him and push the container towards his direction.
“You practically live here anyway. Help yourself,” you say a bit louder, embarrassed about the fact that you remember such a miniscule detail about him.
You squint at the countertop — which you honestly wish would swallow you whole — as Jaehyun moves around you to pour himself a glass of water. His muscles strain against his loose t-shirt as he moves around your kitchen with familiarity, and you turn away with wide eyes when you realize you’ve spaced out while staring at his back.
It’s a situation that younger you would have never imagined; you had simply never been left in a room with him alone. Your brother and his other friends were always there, a subtle reminder of the distance between you two and the fact that he was probably still worlds away.
But you’re an adult now, and it’d be a lie if you said that you don’t want Jaehyun to notice you in that way.
Feelings are too complicated to think about sober. You grimace to yourself, pressing two fingers against your temple as you lean your cheek against the cool, hard marble of the countertop.
“Y/N?” you lift your head up at your name, flinching back in surprise when Jaehyun’s face appears at the edge of your vision, his figure buzzing with excitement as he gapes at you. “This is yours, right?”
Your eyes drift to the black canisters in his palm. My film.
“Oh yeah— wait. I forgot to develop those ones,” you make your way over and take the undeveloped film rolls into your hands, the boy observing you with wide eyes.
“That’s sick. Do you develop them yourself?” 
“Hm? Nah, I bring them to the camera store downtown. Left them in the fridge to preserve for a while so they should be good to go now.”
It’s only when you look up from the canisters that you spy his expression, the pure giddiness painted on his features catching you off guard. Jaehyun’s body language tells you that he is unnervingly thrilled about his new discovery.
“You were never into this kind of stuff when Taeyong and I were still here in high school,” he brings up slowly, letting the words sit on his tongue before following you when you head towards the stairs. “If I had known…” he trails off, pursing his lips to the side so that his notorious dimples show.
You peer at him over your nose bridge curiously. If he had known, he would've what?
Jaehyun pokes his tongue into his cheek and furrows his brows, thinking about the times when he was over at your house after school and you would be nowhere to be seen. Is the dark room where you were, or were you out taking pictures at the rink and shooting short films with your friends? Maybe at the park with your old camcorder and skateboard? The fact that he never knew about so many of your hobbies is almost troubling considering how long he’s known you, and it makes him shift in place. He supposes he never really took the time to know his best friend’s little sister, but looking at you as you stare back, you’re so much more than that. 
Had you always shared so much in common?
“Well, imma go upstairs and watch a movie,” you resume your climb before pointing upward. “You can come up until Tae comes home, if you want?”
The boy glances at the door momentarily, contemplating how Taeyong would react if he found him in his sister’s room. Would he kill me? Maybe.
He shrugs. Fuck it, I could totally beat him in a fight, Jaehyun reasons, smiling to himself. He doesn’t know how he reached that conclusion, but he thinks he’s joking. Mostly.
“The real question is, what’re we watching? If it’s some romcom shit I’m leaving,” Jaehyun raises a challenging brow with his smirk as he follows you nonetheless, hand following yours dangerously close on the wooden handrail.
“Not my problem you’ve got no taste.”
“Oh please,” he rolls his eyes, pushing his body into view as you push open your bedroom door, “I might actually die if I see DiCaprio’s face one more time, and you can’t tell me it’s not you that has all of his movies in the living room cabinet, ‘cause they’re definitely not your brother’s.”
“That seems a bit of a personal issue between you and him, Jaehyun,” you let out a laugh with your words. Turning around to flick on the light switch, you’re met with his face closer than it was before. “What.”
“What?” he repeats, almost mockingly. “Oh, sweetheart. You think this face isn’t DiCaprio level?”
Your face heats up without your consent, flustered at the sudden proximity and the fact that you most definitely think Jaehyun’s better than all of your favorite actors combined. You would never admit that to him for the life of you, though.
You swallow before pushing him lightly, making your way into the center of your bedroom.
“Admit it,” he sings, not giving up as he relentlessly parks himself in front of you with his legs set further apart so that he can look at you at eye level. “I bet even Ji Chang-wook’s got nothing on me.”
“Woah woah woah,” you gasp in offense, throwing a hand up to your chest. “Now that’s crossing the line, buddy. Ji Chang-wook’s got something on everybody.”
“I bet,” Jaehyun drawls out sarcastically, eyes flipping to the ceiling ludicrously slow. He seems to glitch for a few seconds, mouth open but no words coming out. “Especially with the way his face is plastered… on… your ceiling? You fall asleep to that?”
Your eyes widen when you have the sudden realization that Jeong Jaehyun is in your room, in your personal space, looking at your things. And that most certainly includes the poster of Ji Chang-wook next to the plastic stars above your bed, glassy, plastic-y eyes staring down at your ruffley bed sheets and everything. In your defense, it was the result of a lost dare — but he doesn’t know that. Wow, you think to yourself, regretting all of your life decisions, I’m just so good at first impressions.
“Yes,” you give up somewhat dejectedly, offering him a (hopefully) confident smile before pulling a projector from under your bed and setting it up on your bedside table.
Jaehyun just shrugs and seats himself on your bed, muttering a little “cute” that you miss before observing as you give the machine a few good slaps so it’ll turn on. Settling against the wall, he lets his eyes flutter over your decor and multitude of things plastered across every inch of your space. If anything, the way your room’s changed since the last time he was in it gives him an outlook into your life that he wouldn't have known otherwise. 
From the blockbuster movie ads on your door to the unfiltered sunlight reflecting off your mirror, the shoelaces tied around your closet door to the origami threaded around your ceiling fan, he feels like he’s falling. Maybe, just maybe, he even finds a bit of himself in the painted shoe boxes shoved under your desk and your circular record shelf. Even the stars he and Taeyong stuck on years ago are still there too. He recognizes bits and pieces here and there, but thrown together in one place, a cohesive picture forms in front of him. It’s suffocating — in a good way — as if he’s been thrown into the unknown and is hit with a new side of you at full force; everything, everywhere, all at once.
“Ha!” you exclaim, holding out a fist for Jaehyun to bump when your projector flickers on. With a bright grin, you flop onto the bed beside him and wait for the whirring of the projector to start with a hollow click.
The beginning few seconds of the film you’ve chosen roll onto your makeshift movie screen, a white sheet hanging by its threads from your vanity, as the bright images light up your figures with a burning white.
Jaehyun figures out what you’ve done just as a familiar face blurs into view, the moving calligraphy of The Great Gatsby scrawled across your bedroom wall while you poke out your tongue at him, high off of the mere fact that you’ve gotten your way. You hear him let out a defeated sigh from beside you, his knee hitting yours as he settles into your comforter nevertheless.
“Sharp as hell, aren’t you. I should’ve known DiCaprio would show up in my sight sooner or later.”
Summer tastes like melted sugar crystals in cherry garcia  — or rather, summer tastes like Mark Lee’s Strawberry-Rouge Extravaganza, the latest, state-of-the-art item on his Record Shop menu. When you ask why the random French is thrown in there, he defends himself adamantly, claiming that his three years of secondary French language classes have practically made him a local.
“It’s like a metaphor for saying, ‘I love you,’” Mark claims with sass, even though you don’t make the connection (“That’s not what a metaphor is…?” you mumble quizzically under your breath). He ignores the weird look you throw at him and goes back to his mixing on the counter of the cashier station. “And it feels like a warm hug, because what better to express that than sparkly, drunk goodness.”
“Wow,” Chaewon deadpans, not even looking up from her nails that she’s painting right next to him. The mix of nail polish and liquor makes you scrunch your nose as you organize the main display, a rotating shelf that headlines Blondie. “You should be a poet. You have such a way with words.”
“I don’t need your negativity in my life, girly.” You almost choke on air when you hear a sharp snap of Chae’s gum in retaliation, her icy glare making Mark wilt under her gaze. 
Their intense, non-verbal argument is saved by the dinging of a customer opening the door to the shop. You whip around to greet them only for your words to die right in your throat. Two silhouettes step in, their tall stature and familiar features blocking the sun from shining through the entranceway.
“…Jaehyun, Jungwoo! How are you guys?” Mark offers when he sees you fall silent.
The two greet happily right back, sliding past you to pat him on the back and exchange handshakes. Jaehyun lingers by your side for a little, holding his fist out for you to tap like you did just the other day in your room.
“We knew we’d find you guys in here,” Jungwoo laments, looking around the shelves before his eyes land on Mark’s… setup. You have to admit, this one looks a bit more pleasant than his past drink recipes, and you can tell that Jungwoo agrees wholeheartedly. His hand lingers on a bottle of sparkling vanilla wine as Mark slices red fruit ardently with a plastic, cafeteria knife. A paper cup holds the rest of his special ingredients: rock candy on wooden sticks, shattered candy hearts, and star-shaped ice cubes. You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that it looked delicious, like something you would order at a beach-side bar. 
Jungwoo seems to find the situation amusing, a trio of barely-adults passing slow, withering days in their own little makeshift paradise. Leaning against the countertop like he’s on the cover of Parisian Vogue, he nicks his baseball cap up a bit higher to look into the three of yours’ eyes better.
“Johnny’s throwing a party.”
That’s all anyone needs to say before Chaewon’s attention is snagged, her eyes gaining an undeniable gleam.
“We’re going,” she speaks for everyone in the room, especially looking you square in the eyes as if saying, you’re not escaping this time, young lady.
“Mhm,” Jaehyun confirms, a hand rubbing at his pulse as he swings an arm over Jungwoo’s shoulders. “A fancy mixer, kinda, the day after tomorrow. We’ll have all the booze, so the only thing you need to bring is yourself.”
“And,” the latter chimes in, “it’s at Johnny’s countryside estate, so y’all can do whatever illegal shit you kids get yourself into without worrying about anything.”
Chaewon lets out a small scoff at his words, mumbling a “we still do here it anyway” under her breath and throwing a knowing look at the alcohol in front of Mark that’s very blatantly in every passerby’s sight.
As Jungwoo relays more information about the plans to them at the front of the shop, Jaehyun turns to follow your path as you diligently place records back in their places in the depths of the store. 
“Do you wear silver or gold?” 
You jump at his appearance out of nowhere, glancing at him with a certain hesitation at his question. Your confusion as to how this topic appeared so suddenly is painted blatantly across your face as you close the last turntable with a click. 
“Why?” You pause. “But both. Depends on my mood.”
“Because this is yours now.”
He reaches into his jeans’ front pocket, pulling out something in his fist before reaching for your hand and dropping a small, plastic ring in the middle of it. 
It’s neon orange and ugly as hell, like something you would find stuck to gum on the underbelly of a school desk. But hey, who are you to complain when Jaehyun looks so pleased at himself as he looks between your face and the ring, trying to gauge your reaction to his surprise gift. And, you’re definitely not complaining when it’s a gift from Jaehyun himself.
“Thank you…? Also,” you squint, picking up the ring to slide onto your pointer finger, “this isn’t silver or gold.” He shrugs half heartedly.
“Sucks to suck.”
You kick the tip of his Converse as he laughs with his whole body, the boy’s deep voice filling the small space. 
“It’s from the coin toy machine outside,” he explains. With a broad grin, he pulls his other hand from out of his pocket and waves it in your face. The whole rainbow has found its home on his fingers, all silly swirls and squiggles of nylon with glued on googly-eyes half falling off.
It’s the pure childish elation you share which makes you unknowingly sink deeper and deeper into the ocean that is Jeong Jaehyun, and you would have felt the metaphorical gasps of air your lungs so desperately need if not for the momentary distractions he provides. 
You suppose all of this is your own doing anyway. 
It feels as though Autumn has made a reverse pit-stop in the middle of summer. 
If not obvious by the way the seasonal trees are drooping with a sudden dewy chill, it’s the sudden absence of people in general that serves as a telltale sign. There’s almost no cars on the road, fewer students out and about, and less frequent public transportation. 
The last one in particular really speaks to Jaehyun.
Scrunching his nose at the crisp air, he exits the hole-in-the-wall café he usually frequents when he’s bored, the biting coldness of a mid-August day unfamiliar to him. The boy spent almost the entire day inside; switching between staring at the weather app on his computer and deleting emails from his overflowing inbox for two hours wasn’t the way he thought he’d spend the afternoon, but alas, waiting that long at the crumbling bus stop wasn’t ideal either. He much prefers being warm, caffeinated, and pretending to read a scientific journal than freezing his ass off on a metal bench. 
Anyone would think the same, Jaehyun shrugs to himself… at least until he starts nearing said bench.
Jaehyun stops mid-step when he spots something strange, side-eyeing the undeniably familiar blob crouching at the bus stop approaching on the right.
Why? Well, it's swathed in an oversized hoodie, has a keychain-ful backpack hanging low on its shoulders, and is suspiciously Y/N-shaped.
And if that doesn’t tell him anything, well, the way your eyes go comically wide when you turn to the right and coincidentally meet gazes with Jeong Jaehyun of all people definitely does. It’s the way he’s standing there like a runway model with his hood over his head, dimples on full show as he raises his eyebrows at you and his expensive-looking leather bag hanging off of one shoulder that almost causes you to fall over. Luckily, you pull yourself together before something embarrassing happens, like losing your balance and crashing into the road (not that it’s happened before, of course…). You’re well aware that you tend to get distracted easily, and you’re definitely in trouble because that man is one hell of a distraction.
Getting up quickly and dusting the invisible dust off your legs, you offer him an embarrassed wave as he approaches you.
“How long have you been sitting there? It’s fucking cold outside,” Jaehyun calls out, concerned, glancing down at your skirt and the way you hide your hands in your hoodie sleeves. Sidling up next to you, he bounces on the balls of his feet a little before stuffing his own hands in his pockets.
“It’s okay,” you smile down at the way your shoes match next to his on the sidewalk, “I’m used to the bipolar weather. Plus, it’s not that cold when you’ve got these!” Tucking your lip between your teeth, you rustle around in your sweater-paws before popping out your hands proudly in front of you. Nestled in your palms are old hand warmers, their heat fading but worth their purpose nonetheless.
“Only you would have hand warmers in stock during the middle of summer, Y/N,” he shakes his head in disbelief, but the smile threatening to take over his face makes his eyes crinkle up in amusement.
“Mhm,” you say, distracted as you see the bus pull up to the sidewalk from down the road, “I’ve got a whole box in my backpack. Who knows, maybe an ice storm will hit one day and I’ll be the only one with hands while everyone else’s freeze off.” 
He pauses in place, speechless at your comment. You simply shrug at him, as if saying that’s the way life goes, before nodding to the bus driver and climbing up the vehicle’s steps. “Don’t worry, I’d share mine with you.”
Jaehyun lets out a breath in disbelief. 
Your attitude is truly refreshing, and he can’t even begin to describe what a breath of clean air it is to talk to you everyday; he’s used to girls coming up to him with hidden intent, their eyes tinged with lust as they disguise their interest with false pretenses and flowery words. Flattery is what it began with, but after years of receiving nothing from their end while he found himself aimlessly hoping for someone genuine and it was disappointing that he couldn’t find even one. He’d wish they would just treat him normally and act like themselves, a person not afraid to be genuine with him and let their inner child show. 
It’s as he observes the way you hum as you climb up and give a playful salute to the driver that he realizes you’re the perfect balance of both, the maturity in you shining admirably at the times when it is needed while never acting like something you’re not.
Jaehyun blinks at your figure before tugging on your arm to move around you, swiping his bus pass twice before you can even register what’s happened. He lets a smug grin take over his face before pulling you to the back of the bus and plopping down beside you.
“Thank you for paying for me,” you tilt your head at him, tucking your card back into your pocket. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to, though.”
You give him a grateful smile before remembering something that you had meant to show him, pulling out the walkman you found in your grandmother’s cellar yesterday from your backpack, a dusty old thing that still works perfectly fine. Looping its built-in headphones around your neck, you tilt the player towards him before offering him the small device. Turning it around in his hands, he gapes in undeniable awe as he taps the plastic cover with intrigue. 
You knew he’d like it.
“I haven’t seen one of these in so long. Whose grave did you raid to get this, the hell?”
“Found it yesterday in my grandparent's cellar, and before Taeyong got his hands on it. I thought that you’d find it interesting so I was planning on showing you later this week, but hey, look who I happened to run into today.”
He simply shakes his head before bringing the machine up to his eyes and popping open its cover, a finger coming up to trace the dust out of the inside of it.
“Do you have a cassette to put in it or…?” he begins, looking up at you. You shake your head. “We can go to the vintage shop downtown later to get you some, if you want.”
“Really? You’ll go with me?”
“Yeah, Y/N. You’ve always got the coolest things to play around with, and we can go shove this in Yong’s face too. He’s gonna be so jealous.”
“You just wanna annoy my brother,” you snort, nudging his arm.
“You’ve got me there.” He holds up his hands in mock surrender before poking his tongue inside his cheek, eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Or… I could make you a personalized mixtape?” Your jaw drops comically, no words coming out of your mouth as you just stare at him.
“Are you being serious right now?”
“So, so serious.”
“If you did, I would actually lose my mind,” you finally close your mouth in amazement. “You’d probably be my favorite person ever.”
“Well, then that would be well worth it. I’ll work on it when I’m back in the studio at uni,” Jaehyun smiles genuinely, handing you your walkman back before swinging his leather bag back onto his shoulder as the bus pulls to a halt. With a parting pat on your shoulder, he mouths a goodbye before descending the aisle.
“This is my stop. See you at the party, Y/N.”
… 
When you had received the call on a quiet Saturday afternoon from Mark that he and Chaewon would be leaving earlier to help set up for Johnny’s weekend party — the one that Jungwoo and Jaehyun had only told you about just a few days prior — the possibility of not having a ride to bring you hadn’t even struck yet. You were too busy thanking your friends that they had granted you two more hours for an afternoon nap, and an extra 60 minutes to get ready; a truly ideal day in your opinion. 
It’s only when you’ve given yourself a final look in the mirror, admiring the new dress that you’ve donned at the last minute, do you hear the undeniable honk of a car outside. Brushing aside the curtains and trying to get your eyes to focus in the dark, you make a noise of panic when you spy Jaehyun’s car outside your house. 
What’s he doing here?
You'd spent far more time with Jaehyun in the past few days than you have in your entire lifetime, running small errands with him when Taeyong's not there and browsing through retro stores in nearby towns for old cassettes. With every hour more spent together, it felt like you were getting closer to knowing his feelings, and that in itself excited you to no end. He'd end every drive together with a knowing look and some sort of physical touch, and each goodbye left you in anticipation for the next time you'd see him.
Sprinting down the stairs and grabbing your shoes as fast as you can, you rush out into the street where the Mustang’s tinted windows prevent any passerby from making out any faces from the outside. 
As you approach the driver’s side, the window rolls down to reveal the owner of the car. 
“Hey,” Jaehyun grins at you, his pupils dilated and the faint smell of smoke lingering on his breath. 
It feels like forever since you’ve seen him, even if it’s only been a few hours since you last saw each other. You can feel your head fog up when you fully take in his appearance; with his hair slicked back and his button-up undone to reveal sharp collarbones and a dangling, silver cross, he looks godly as the moonlight basks him in a paper-white glow. 
“Chaewon and Mark had to stay later to help set up more and Taeyong’s been pregaming since six, so he sent me to pick you up. You can get in the back.”
You hum in understanding before climbing into the backseat, tucking your hands under your thighs before looking up at the front of the car. 
Your heart drops. 
“Hi,” the girl in the shotgun seat lilts, her bleached hair falling into wavy ringlets against Jaehyun’s leather seats. “Y/N, right? I remember you! You’re Yongie’s baby sis.”
You itch to fill the silence that follows, even though you assume she would have no trouble clearing it with her well-known, extroverted dynamic. There’s an unnamed tension in the car between the two people in the front seat, and it’s so intense that you could cut it with a knife.
You take shallow breaths, not sure what to make of your position. I’m sitting in a car with my crush and his former situationship— holy. How did we get to this point? She’s literally—
“—Lim Sae-mi,” you attempt to give her a genuine smile, flashing your teeth in what you pray isn’t an awkward expression. 
Saemi simply twinkles in the rear view mirror, her delicately painted lips stretching up before she twists around to observe you. 
“You do remember me! Look at how pretty you are too,” she exclaims, reaching back to pat down a strand of your hair, her voice laced with sticky sweetness. “You could be a model, just like Yongie. And your hair is so healthy, I’m jealous. Isn’t her hair so so nice, Jae?”
Jaehyun snaps to attention at the mention of his name, seeming to be in some sort of haze with the way he looks like he’s holding his breath for as long as humanly possible. 
“Yeah.” You find yourself wilting in the slightest at his monotone voice. Looking out the window as he starts driving towards the outskirts of town, you try not to let yourself be too disappointed at the way he loses such distinctive qualities when around the girl sitting next to him. 
Jaehyun freezes up when Saemi turns to him all doe-eyed, flashbacks flitting through his mind of the days when he’d anticipate the moments he’d see her again when they were younger. Strangely enough, the effect that she used to have on him — palpitating heart, nervous ticks, rosy cheeks, uncanny attraction — seems to have dissipated. Now, highschool-Jaehyun seems so far away, and their memories even further.
What’s changed?
“Um,” you start as you watch suburban lights zoom by less and less frequently, your brain working just as fast to eliminate some of the weird, awkward tension happening in the car. You don’t really know enough to make conclusions, but something must have happened in the past for them to react to each other like this. “How’s SNU? Do you guys run into each other often on campus?”
Jaehyun chuckles lowly, a tinge of uncertainty lining his tone as he waits for Saemi to answer your question. 
“Right, you’re going to uni next year right? Hmm… we don’t really see each other on campus at all, now that I think about it,” she simpers, frowning at the road in front of her before brightening up in less than a second. “But that's because Jae’s so busy, preparing to be a future doctor and all. He was always the smartest one out of all of us.”
You watch as he falls silent, knuckles tightening on the steering wheel as his jaw clenches ever so slightly.
“Hey, we should catch up sometime Jae,” she adds on with a tone like she doesn’t really mean it before turning her gaze to him, tacking on a noise of agreement with herself as if she's already decided that they will. 
She knows they won’t.
You watch their eyes meet briefly before Jaehyun breaks it to turn the steering wheel left onto a never-ending stretch of a lone, empty road.
Saemi’s a hard person to figure out. You know that she’s charming when she wants to be and firm when she needs to be, but you also know from Taeyong that she has a personality she can flip on and off like a switch; it’s almost as if mind games with the people around her are amusing, and it’s up to the other person to figure out what her true intentions are. It’s understandable why so many people find her alluring. 
Glancing up at the back of her head once more, you observe as she leans back with a faint frown before swallowing something in her hand that looks like a bottled shot. She looks uncomfortable as she shifts in her seat every few minutes, and you’re not sure if she’s more put off by the alcohol or by Jaehyun. Your guess would be the latter, even if her voice makes it seem like she’s the most confident person in the world.
You don’t even attempt to start another conversation, instead opting to roll down the window so that you can watch empty land flash by, an occasional plant breaking the smooth ground. The car picks up speed on its own with no other vehicle in sight, the only light coming from the rising crescent moon and a solo gas station situated further down the road.
The three of you perk up as you approach the oil refill and the only other car at the station, a big pick-up with dressed-up figures leaning out of its windows and sitting around the back cargo bed. You assume they’re heading to the same place you are with the way they all shout at each other as they pass a dark bottle back and forth. A boy gets out of the driver’s seat to walk over to Jaehyun’s car and lean through Saemi’s side of the window, shades pushed up into his hair and beads and cuban links dangling out of his shirt. You don’t recognize him, but you’re not surprised when Johnny knows just about every young person in the world.
“Jaehyun, man! And Saemi, damn, I haven’t seen you guys in a while. Headed to Johnny’s?” he exclaims with a loud voice and wide smile, reaching in to pat a long-lost friend on the shoulder. Just like that, the extroverted Jaehyun and Saemi are back, conversing with him as if their awkward energy and off demeanors didn’t just dictate the ride over. 
The guy notices you in the back when your eyes meet accidentally, both of you taken aback.
“And who might this be?” He smirks at you, gaze never leaving yours as he directs the question to the other two in the car. You smile back just to be friendly, but with the way he’s staring at you, you’re not sure if that’s the right way to go about things.
“Lee Taeyong’s sister,” Jaehyun speaks up, glimpsing back at you with an unreadable look. A look of recognition flashes over the stranger’s face as his mouth opens in surprise.
“So this is the sister. Shit, is that why I’ve never seen her around?”
“Yeah.” There’s a bitter undertone to his voice, expression faltering before he raises his eyebrows with a smile. “And that’s why she’s off limits, man. I know that look all too well.”
You look at your brother’s friend in question, leaning forward, but Jaehyun doesn’t even glance at you. Both of you know that Taeyong isn’t really the overly protective type, so why would he say that? Maybe he knows that this guy is bad news, so he’s warning me. You nod to yourself, satisfied with your quick thinking. That sounds about right.
You’re about to offer a comment yourself, but you’re stopped by a—
“Lim Saemi! No fucking way, is that really you?” another shrill voice calls from across the expanse of the gas station, a former classmate stalking across the black cement in teetering heels as she waves dramatically at the girl in front of you. “It is you! I can’t believe we ran into you like this, you gotta join the party truck now!”
Saemi seems to recognize her, waving dramatically out the window to her friend. In a matter of seconds, the girl has pulled her out of Jaehyun’s car as she laughs at her friend’s antics of tugging on her wrist to string her along, drunk. Saemi throws you and Jaehyun a look that seems to say everything and nothing at the same time; if you were to interpret it in your own language, it would spell out: So sorry I’m ditching you guys! I love both of you to pieces but I’d honestly rather drink bleach than get back in that car. Hope you understand. Muah.
And with that, you watch Saemi switch cars in a matter of moments. The boy follows them back to their chaotic ride to Johnny’s after waving goodbye at Jaehyun, who’s watching them without any emotion bleeding through his stoic face. You can’t even begin to guess what's going through his mind as his eyes flick back to his dashboard, spaced out.
You pause.
“...and then there were two.”
Biting your bottom lip when you realize you mumbled that out loud, and you’ve genuinely never wanted to be six feet under more because the man hasn’t even said a word since she left you two.
Jaehyun freezes at your voice, almost as if he forgot you were in the car. Letting out an airy laugh after a moment, your shoulders relax when you sense that his weird, Saemi-caused demeanor has faded with her sudden absence.
“Wanna move to the front? It’s lonely up here.” You perk up at his belated response, excitedly getting out of the back to slide into the shotgun seat at his invitation. The man next to you seems to visibly relax, stomach releasing and shoulders drooping with less tension as he starts the car and turns back onto the stretch of empty road. 
The silence doesn’t bother you this time when Saemi’s absent; it’s pleasant and full, as if both of you needed this momentary break from nonstop life to collect yourself. Staring at the dust picking up along the wheels while the needle on the speedometer rises up and up, you find the scene before you therapeutic in unexplainable ways.
Jaehyun feels the same, his eyes spacey as one hand rests languidly on the steering wheel with ingrained muscle memory. The vehicle coasts past blank acres and rolling hills, the burning moon engaging in hide-and-seek as it appears and disappears behind their peaks. He doesn’t even feel the need to turn up the stereo as he usually does when your audible, light breaths are sufficient enough. It’s comforting in ways he didn’t know he needed.
You recognize how close you are to Johnny’s estate when you see the road before you thin into dirt and pebbles, a grandiose silver gate barely visible in the far distance. Behind the gate is the unmistakable gleam of polished stone, no doubt the road that leads up to the party and an onslaught of cars. If you concentrate hard enough, your mind can even conjure up the deep bass of the music that the host prefers at his mixers, their heavy resonance flowing through the thick soil to the bottom of Jaehyun’s car and all the way up to the soles of your feet.
You’re just about to point your strange observance out when Jaehyun makes a sudden swerve, pulling off to an edge of mangled weeds and tree roots, the car rolling to a shuttering stop just before a barren field of dead plants. Your body lurches forward a bit with the movement, the boy apologizing profusely when he sees you adjust your seatbelt with confusion written all over your expression.
“Fuck, sorry sorry sorry,” he mumbles, moving his hand in front of you as if you could fall out of your seat at any minute. “I just… the stars are stunning right now, we gotta stop for a sec. You don’t mind if we…”
He trails off, distracted, as he pulls the car door open hastily, rushing out to take in the night sky in its full glory. It’s as if he doesn’t move fast enough, the stars will pull a disappearing stunt on him.
It’s endearing to see Jaehyun like this, a smile subconsciously finding its way onto your face when you spot him bouncing on the balls of his feet lightly. His eyes are completely enamored with the sight above him, neck craned up at an odd angle to see everything; from the way his fingers dig into his palms in excitement to the cold flush on his cheeks from the biting evening chill, it’s like he doesn’t know what to do with himself when encountering such a beautiful product of mother nature. 
The thought of Johnny’s party evaporates from both of your minds as you find yourself mirroring Jaehyun’s position. 
After a few minutes of stillness, he looks at you with the very stars from the sky in his eyes.
“Can we stay here for a bit?”
He beams at your “of course” before hoisting himself onto the cool hood of his Mustang and offering a hand out for you to grab. Pulling you up onto the spot beside him with a huff, he pulls your wrist to shift your body closer to his before smiling contently to himself. 
You try not to let your mind spiral at his warm touch, instead focusing your attention on the blanket of constellations that greet you from the inky stretch of night sky. The cold metal of the hood cools your burning skin as your legs stretch out in front of you, skin ghastly as your arms support your weight from behind you.
When he hears your faint intake of breath, Jaehyun allows his eyes to leave the pretty view above him to the pretty view beside him for a few seconds, letting them linger on your side profile as you stare up in awe. They fall from the slope of your nose to the open curve of your lips, circling around your neck and raking over the ornate gems decorating your skin. You’re breathtaking in 1001 ways, and it’s such a pressing realization that he blinks away in shock when your gaze suddenly meets his. 
“Do you do this often?”
“When I need to get away for a bit. All of my best ideas come to me at night, I think. There’s just something about darkness and non-artificial light which is curiously inspiring.”
You nod, leaning back on the windshield and resting your head against its glass. Nighttime lets you think in the abstract, where the shadows don’t take shape and remind you to think in a direct and methodical way. 
“I get that,” you empathize. “After Taeyong left, I used to climb onto my roof after dark and just sit there alone for hours. I wouldn’t know how much time had passed until I got back into my room, and to be honest, that was my favorite time of the day. It took my mind off things, even if it was only for a few hours.”
“You know, Yong and I used to do that when we were younger. You were too little to remember I think, but we’d go up after your parents fell asleep and throw basketballs down the side of your house to see how far they would bounce up… we probably hit your window too a few times. Only a few.”
“That was you?” you jut, incredulous.
“Oh, so she does remember,” Jaehyun laughs under his breath, playfully avoiding eye contact when you scoff at your brother and his' antics. “Anyway, I wanna go up there again someday.”
“Our roof? I’ll bring you.”
Jaehyun turns to face you.
“Promise? I’m counting on it, Lee.”
You don’t hide your bashful smile this time, looking away when the boy flashes his dimples at you. Your insides flood with warmth as you secretly bring the back of your hand up to feel your cheek, scared of its betrayal of your feelings. 
Jaehyun sighs, content, after a few moments, his neck lolling at the joint to stargaze once again. He feels entirely relaxed at this moment; there’s nothing that Mother Nature can’t fix. 
“History revolved around looking at the stars and just talking, you know? I wish I could stay here forever and never grow up.” 
You tilt your head curiously.
“Why, you don’t like being an adult?”
“Not that,” he shakes his head. “It’s more of, I pretend to be collected and mature and all-knowing, but the feeling of having no control over life magnifies as I get older. My head and heart haven’t grown up fast enough to catch up.”
“Jaehyun.”
“Hm?”
“You don’t ever have to pretend. It’s… it’s okay to not know what you’re doing or what the future looks like, and it’s okay to let yourself go at times too. Being an adult doesn’t mean always knowing the right things to do or figuring out every little detail right now,” your words stumble a bit as they spill out, but he seems to catch onto every word perfectly. “I’m scared too, so it’s kinda ironic that I’m giving you this advice when I can’t follow it myself.”
“We can trade words of wisdom,” Jaehyun offers more lightheartedly. “It’s so much easier to give advice to other people than to yourself.” You can’t think of a better way to phrase it than that. 
“And I think simply moving forward with what you can muster is the best we can do,” you add on. Jaehyun just stares at you as you talk, chin in his palm as he takes in your advice with sincerity. “Things will just come and go naturally as we go on.”
“You’re right. Time tells, Y/N. And frankly, you’re so much more mature than me.”
“Me?” You frown, surprised at the fact that he thinks you are. “That’s so strange to hear, because I feel like I’ll never be independent in the way that you and Tae are. Even though we’re not that far apart in age, I’ve always thought you guys were from a different galaxy, like fear wasn’t a word in your dictionary and maturity has always just come naturally.”
“It’s all in the way we carry ourselves, but maturity itself doesn’t come from this,” Jaehyun waves his hand around to outline your body in an imaginary circle, “but from this.” You watch as he taps a purposeful finger against your temple. “And you have more of it than anyone my age. You have a mind that people would die for, and I think that’s something to be very proud of.”
The wind whistles soundly as the two of you take in the world with new perspectives, sitting up a little straighter and legs just barely touching as he moves closer without even noticing. You don’t say anything for a while, and you don’t need to. He recognizes how you need a few minutes to let his words soak in, and that’s what makes you so you. Jaehyun knows you won’t just take his words on a whim and forget them ten minutes later; you’re the kind of person that internalizes everything he says with genuine feeling and gratefulness, and that quality is what makes you, in his opinion, celestial. 
“You always know just what to say,” you finally whisper, and he almost doesn’t catch it.
You receive no reply except for the most adoring look in his eyes as he smiles fondly at you. The breeze blows wisps of your hair around your face, and Jaehyun can’t help it when he reaches out to tuck a stray strand behind your ear. His fingers linger — longingly, if you dare say — before he makes himself pull away.
You’re scared to let yourself believe that you might have a chance this time; everything floods back and hits your heart at full power, and you think that your newfound connection you’ve found with the boy over this summer has trumped all of your past memories. Your feelings are fragile, and the way he looks at you is terrifying. He makes your heart race violently; your feelings from when you were fifteen don’t even compare.
“It’s too chilly for a summer month,” he speaks up suddenly, rubbing his arms and trying to lighten the mood. You shake your mind out of its storm of complicated emotions before offering a small smile back.
“Always speaking the truth, aren’t you?” You tease, playing with the hem of your short dress. Jaehyun makes a noise of agreement before a boyish grin stretches across his face. 
“Yeah, which is why Leonardo DiCaprio is not—”
“—UH,” You stop him mid sentence, shushing him. “Let’s not finish that sentence.”
“—peak acting which is why—”
“La la la lala,” you sing, covering your ears with your hands childishly and squinting so that you don’t have to see Jaehyun raising an eyebrow at you, amused. “I can’t hear youu.”
“I take back the part about you being more mature than me.” Only one boy is capable of making your moods flip like this, and he’s sitting right next to you as your laughs ring out in tandem through the night. 
Eventually, after a few more back-and-forths under the dark sky, Jaehyun takes it upon himself to teach you some astronomical terms. You doubt you’ll remember them, but he promises he’ll make it easy for you to hold in your mental library.
“You need to be prepared,” he stresses, “if you’re gonna come with me next time.”
“Next time… stargazing?”
“Yup,” he answers matter-of-factly. “Let’s see… there’s a triangle of importance in my opinion. The true triune, holy grail of astronomy.”
You watch him sink into his element, musing upon the milky way above.
“Stars,” he air-traces the Orion constellation slowly. “Moons,” he continues, moving his arm in front of you to point at the claw of the silver crescent moon. Jaehyun lets his hand fall, the tip of his finger grazing your skin in the slightest as it hovers in front of your heart. “And celestial bodies.” 
You mentally prepare yourself to get an earful from Chaewon as the drive up to Johnny’s resumes…
…two hours late.
In your defense, it wasn’t completely your fault. Jaehyun says you can blame it on him when she throws her fit at you being late — and boy, do you know she will — but you also know that when you recount what happened to cause your tardiness, she’ll excuse it. Partially. Maybe even throw in a sushi dinner and smoke sesh, then all of your sins would be forgiven in her book.
You try to distract yourself from Jaehyun’s sweet actions just a few minutes earlier by thinking about where you might find Chaewon and Mark when you get there; maybe the drink-stocked kitchen, where Mark will surely be… or outside, where people like Chaewon usually go with their ziploc bags and scratched-up lighters.
Where would Jaehyun go?
You groan inwardly when you catch your brain drifting to the idea of the man next to you once again, said man driving with a dopey expression on his face as Johnny’s estate comes into full view. You can’t tell if it’s because of a well-needed down-time with the stars (and time with you, if you dare to think optimistically) or because it looks like there’s strobe lights flashing out of every window of the ground floor—
“—holy shit, they really went all out,” Jaehyun gapes, hands slacking on the steering wheel as you both take in the scene before you. “Johnny’s fucking insane. Maybe even like, should-be-checked-into-a-facility insane.”
Your eyes widen as the building unfurls itself before you, a mansion so grand that it’s comparable to Gatsby’s in every way. It’s got a certain vintage charm to it, something you assume Johnny’s parents built in homage to their roots with veiny, marbled stairs and towering Roman columns. The chaos that’s happening in and around the home itself, however, is a different story. You can see the drunk bodies already as they move around to invisible music, and waves of people climb spiral staircases up to the upper levels as they fumble drinks around. Silhouettes of the party-goers are littered across the vast, arched windows, stone trims decorating their sills with impeccable detail; the estate is truly a needle that shines brilliantly in a haystack of country homes, the nearest house being a whole 20 minute drive away. You’d been to his countryside home only once with Taeyong when you were younger, but seeing it in all its glory during the nighttime is a whole different experience.
“Nah,” you grin when he puts the car into park behind a train of assorted automobiles that cover the driveway. “He's that special kind of chaebol-insane. I propose not eating the rich, because what would the world be without Johnny Suh.”
Jaehyun simply chuckles lightly before getting out of the car and walking around to your side, opening the door before helping you out. You’d be lying if you said that the butterflies in your stomach didn’t just seize at his actions.
But nothing good lasts forever.
Just as soon as the butterflies come, they die off when you notice the immediate, uncanny switch in Jaehyun’s disposition.
You’re not sure if it’s the deafening bass-boosted music flooding into the air or the multitude of bodies in front of the house alone as the two of you approach the open door, but he seems to be pushed into a different element the closer you get. You recognize it as the one that you’d only heard of in high school, the one who frequented house parties on school nights with your brother, the one who shone in a room full of people, the infamous heartbreaker Jaehyun.
You can see the shift in his eyes, the way his pupils dilate slowly as they gain that undeniable gleam. You can feel his muscles lose a tension you didn’t even know was there, especially when he swings his arm around your shoulders casually, letting his hand rest against your collarbone. You can hear the calls of his wicked name already from both females and males alike, their shouts pulling him away from you as multiple people are drawn to him right away.
You recognize a few of them, hometown names that make their presence known as they clap Jaehyun on the back and reach out for intoxicated hugs. It’s also now that you realize the sheer amount that the boy you practically grew up with — the very one who spent his school day afternoons playing in your living room — changes when with other people. His popularity was never a mystery to you, but seeing it in person like this… he acts like he’s finally at home. A true socialite who flourishes when surrounded by people.
And you would never hold that against anyone, except until—
“Hey, Y/N, I’ll catch up with you later, okay? Promise.”
Ah.
His voice rings out flippant and unfamiliar, arm slipping from your shoulders like deadweight, and his fingers don’t linger on your skin longingly this time. Without looking back, he’s swept away by a myriad of high school friends as they drag him off to only God knows where. They hand him drinks and jostle around with each other between heated bodies, his silver rings glinting under the lights as he throws his head back for a bitter shot.
You watch as their forms retreat into the depths of the party until the shadows swallow him up and your eyes can’t follow him anymore. 
Left to hover awkwardly by yourself at the door of Johnny’s house with no drink in hand and a bewildered twist in your expression, suddenly, all the moments that have led up to now feel like a fever dream. Everything just happened so fast. One minute he’s next to you, and you’re sure you’ve fallen again. Hard. And the next moment he’s gone with the wind, like a figment of a dream flickering in and out of consciousness. Sure, you hadn’t expected to spend the whole night with him, but you thought that after your many little talks he would want to stay with you a little longer than three seconds.
At least he promised to find you later, but you’re still left feeling unsure about where you stand with him in contrast to the bubbling feeling of affection you had felt earlier in the night. The way he acts is giving you emotional whiplash.
I have to find Chaewon and Mark, you think to yourself suddenly, trying to shake your head of Jaehyun-related thoughts. The way he’s plagued your thoughts far too many times these past few months terrifies you, and it feels like you’ve lost your mind for real this time. You’re charged with a new determination to not think about the boy until he comes back to you himself. It’s not worth ruining your night over maybe’s.
Weaving through sweaty figures and waving instinctually at the people who happen to recognize you, you find yourself in a sort of trance as you strain to catch a glimpse of one of your friends. The bass-boosted music fills your ears with a heavy buzz as you make your way through what feels like hundreds of people.
A cold hand abruptly reaches out to grasp your wrist when you approach the closed off kitchen, causing you to cautiously glance back at its owner with your other arm ready to push them off.
“Babe, what are you doing here all alone?”
You jump slightly before giving him a childish slap on his arm as a grinning Mark reaches out to embrace you, and the strong smell of twisted tea pungent on his breath. His hand comes up to tuck your head into his neck familiarly, an old habit from when you were young that tends to come out in his drunk endeavors.
“You scared me,” you mumble into his shirt, voice muffled by the fabric. “I was trying to find you, but there’s literally thirty million people in this damn house.”
Feigning hurt, Mark pulls away to put a hand to his heart. “You can’t recognize me from a house away?” His sarcasm makes you squint at him, your hand reaching out to tug him along with you.
“No, Mark. I actually can’t recognize you from a house away,” you bite back, mumbling an extra, “surprisingly too, because I could probably hear your loud-ass laugh from another country if I really wanted to.”
“Literally shut up.”
“Never. Come find Chaewon with me?”
“I-” Mark sighs, giving in to your pleading eyes. What can he say, he has a self-destructive soft spot for his best friend. “Fine. But only if you get her to play one of the drinking games with me, ‘cause you never want to,” he tsks. You offer him an innocent smile before turning towards the back balcony. Gripping Mark’s arm tightly as the two of you make your way through clusters of people, you glance back every so often to make sure he’s still with you. You don’t want to be left alone again.
Again. Like Jaehyun just did when he said he wanted to spend time with me…
He seems to sense your uneasiness when you pause for a moment to look down, the fluorescent lights that lead to the back glass doors making your eyes sting as your fingers tighten their grip on his wrist. 
“Hey hey hey,” the boy pauses to move in front of you with worry creasing his brows. “You good?”
You blink away from him, mumbling an unsure “yeah,” before clearing your throat. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just got dizzy for a sec.”
Mark puts his hands on your shoulders carefully, eyes scanning the way your face looks more apprehensive than usual and your head isn’t held just as high as the Y/N he knows would. He’s had almost his entire life to study your moods and the rises and falls of your expressions, and he knows that something heavy is bothering you to the point where you’re letting him see it bleed through your normal, carefree facade. It’s something serious, and he also knows you’re not gonna tell him until you’re ready.
So for now, he simply smooths down any invisible tensions in your arms and straightens your posture for you like he would in your younger school days, gentle and nimble fingers adjusting the straps of your dress like a parent figure would. 
“I like this number on you. You should wear it more often.” 
“Thank you,” you smile gratefully at him, forcing your feet to move forward once again. It's not unusual for Mark to compliment you, but it feels particularly comforting tonight after so much of your confidence in yourself has been built up and torn down in a matter of hours.
You don’t let your gaze take in anyone except a potential Chaewon as the two of you finally make it outside, scared of potentially seeing someone you don’t want to see. Out of the corner of your eye, Mark gestures animatedly to the lit up garden, far fewer people mingling in its flowering, winding paths than inside. 
“Oh! Chaewon’s right there,” he pushes you lightly in her direction, a poised figure leaning, relaxed, on one of the ivy-slinked marble balconies. “I’m not gonna go far, but I’ll get some drinks from the kitchen for us and be right back, okay? I won’t leave you guys for long.” You’re silent for a moment.
“I’m sorry.” 
“Why are you sorry, Y/N? You’ve done nothing wrong, but whoever or whatever’s bothering you should feel ashamed for making you apologize for nothing,” he chastises immediately, indignant towards the fact he has an inkling of who’s made you feel this way. It pains him to see his best friend hurt silently.
You nod before he gives you one last pat and nudges you in the direction of Chaewon. She turns on her heel just as Mark leaves, face lighting up when she spots your form heading in her direction.
“Took you long enough!” She calls out over with a hand reaching out for you, her other occupied by a flute of some mysterious fizzy liquid. “I’ve been waiting so that we can try the colorful shots in Johnny’s fridge together. I know you secretly like those.”
You snap yourself out of your thoughts before managing a grateful smile as she pulls you into a side hug. “Sorry, the uh… drive took longer than anticipated,” you mumble, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. 
“Who’d you come with again? I feel so bad that we couldn’t pick you up, but the setup literally took the living energy out of me.”
You bite your lip nervously, eyes flicking to the night sky in reassurance.
“I came with— I came with Jaehyun,” you spit out quietly, already predicting her reaction in your head. 
“Damn, for real? I told your brother to call one of your other friends, but this is so much better. Did you guys get time to talk or what?” Chaewon lifts her drink to her lips as she waits with wide eyes, anticipating an answer that you know you can’t give her. If anyone has always rooted for the possibility of him liking you back, it’s her. 
“I don’t know,” you finally whisper, giving up as you tug your fingers through your hair. “It’s just… he’s a confusing person. Like yeah, we talked, but I can’t figure him out at all. He goes back and forth from being the closest I’ve ever felt to a boy to an almost distant stranger in a matter of seconds.”
Your friend’s face falls at your words, clearly noting how much you’re beginning to get stressed out over him. It kills her to see anything but a smile on your face, and the fact that it’s because of someone who you’ve pined over for so long is detrimental to watch. 
“Y/N…” 
“It’s fine. I’m making a big deal out of nothing, probably.” Your voice cracks slightly in the middle of the sentence, but you mask it with a quiet laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a real chance with him to begin with, so try not to expect much.” Chaewon’s bitter smile reflects her inner confliction as she reaches out to take your hand in hers.
“Stop, don’t think like that,” she mutters. 
“But don’t worry, there’s still,” you whisper, putting your pointer finger and thumb up to approximate the size of the tiny moon in the sky above you, “a little hope. There’s always been.”
You nod to yourself, almost like a subtle reassurance. You’ve always had faith and confidence in your own feelings, and a little hope has never killed you. If anything, it’s brought you closer to Jaehyun than you’ve ever been, and getting to know him in ways that you were never able to has been a silver lining in itself. Just maybe… deep down, not in the way you know you wish you had.
“I love how you’re always been so sure of what you want,” Chaewon confesses. It’s both a blessing and a curse. “But tonight’s about having fun, okay? No use wasting time on a boy that can’t get his own shit straight.”
With a giggle, she pulls you towards the house once again. “I want to see you get wasted. His name is not allowed as far as I’m concerned.”
“Jaehyun’s name…?” 
“Who?”
You shake your head with a smile as she feigns confusion with an innocent expression. I don’t deserve my friends, you think to yourself, heart warming at how much they try to make you feel better.
“Come on, Y/N. Look around at all the people,” she laughs out in the tone of a true socialite as she tugs you towards where most of the partygoers are congregated, littered across every corner with their short dresses and sweaty skin. Noticing that your mouth is still tinged with a hint of apprehensiveness, she stops in her tracks and turns to you. “You’re telling me that you’re gonna let him do this to you? This night is for us, not waiting for a stupid boy that’s had the chance of a decade to love on you, pretty girl.”
She fiddles with your dress and smoothing down its invisible wrinkles as you nod along with her, mind willing itself to focus on yourself and your friends instead of—
Right. He doesn’t exist right now.
“And you look so good right now that anyone would be stupid not to feel lucky for having your attention,” she affirms, shiny hair tumbling under fluorescent lights as she beams at you. You can’t help but wrap your arms around her, the comfort of her mere presence and consoling words making your heart burn. 
“Love you, Chae. I think we should just date instead,” you mumble into her shoulder, her signature, bright laughter ringing out at your words. 
Her eyes brighten even more when she spots Mark appearing back behind you with entire bottles of liquor in his hands.
“Where the hell did you get those, my god,” she ooh and aah’s at him as your face lights up at the appearance of the boy.
“Johnny’s hidden stash in one of the guest bedrooms. He thinks he’s slick,” he snorts, putting a finger up in a shushing motion when Chaewon gasps dramatically. When you giggle at your best friend’s antics, he turns to look at you with a hint of worry on his face. 
You seem to have cheered up a bit since he left you to get drinks, but he also knows how good at hiding your true feelings you are. From poker faces to fake laughs, you’ve got it all under your belt. He just wishes you would just let go sometimes, but it’s understandable when he thinks about you as a person. It’s simply in your nature to be selfless, and ever since the two of you were young, you’ve never been one to bother anyone with your own worries. No wonder he’s worried as you crinkle your eyes in elation at him, a complete 180 from five minutes ago.
Glancing at Chaewon, she nods at him discreetly, seemingly having a conversation with just their eyes. You’re okay now.
Letting out a short breath of relief, Mark loops his arm with yours before pulling you into the lion’s den of a party haven. 
“Let’s get fucked up, hmm?”
You don’t know how much time has passed as you trudge through the garden with your heels in one hand, Chaewon’s fingers laced with yours in the other. 
You’re sure it’s been at least three hours since you arrived. No, two. Maybe four?
To be honest, time isn’t even a concept in your book as you swing your arm with your friend’s, a drunken-dopey smile on your face as you relish the feeling of the dirt and grass against your bare skin. 
Maybe you would’ve known when Mark had handed you the first shot, eyes flicking absentmindedly to the mounted clock in Johnny’s spacious living room — but you hadn’t cared enough then to figure out the numbers and read the time properly. In fact, you don’t think you were even thinking about anything except getting a bit of alcohol in your system. Forgetting was the first thing on your mind.
And boy, did everything spiral from there.
You recall vague bits here and there, from getting too close with familiar faces to being handed funky glasses with sparkly liquids. It was all a blur of overdue laughter and shots after shots, and you have to admit, completely letting loose for the first time in a while felt numbing in the most beautiful way.
You remember Mark drunkenly laying his head down in your lap at one point, tapping the hard liquor in your solo cup and mumbling a happy, “water fountain?” up at you. You weren’t seeing double just yet, but you certainly weren’t thinking straight enough either to comprehend his words fully. So, with absolutely no hesitation and a tipsy giggle, you poured the rest of the contents in your cup into his open mouth as carefully as you could (read: not careful at all). He had sat up with a cheeky smile, wiping the surprisingly dark, bloodred liquid from his bottom lip before it dribbled down and stained his skin.
Everything after that moment felt muggy, like a heavy blanket was wrapped around your head and knotted twice around your neck. You suppose that the alcohol added up at some point, pushing you past the point of clarity.
And suddenly now, you’re here. In the grass with Chaewon, doing only God knows what in a freezing night chill with your short dress and absence of a cozy summer jacket. You don’t even know how you got outside in the first place.
The cold air is good for you, however, as you can feel the blurriness start to fade away bit by bit. You’re not stumbling around as much anymore, but your grip on your friend’s hand is as tight as ever as you make your way through pretty flower bushes and onto a stone path.
“Oh no, someone dropped their phone,” Chaewon laments with exaggerated sadness — no doubt the alcohol talking — before leaning down to pick up the shiny device. Dusting it off with her fingers, she traces a frowny face into its glass, causing it to suddenly turn on.
“Jesus,” you squint into its blinding screen, mentally cursing the person who had the brightness turned all the way up and causing tiny white dots to appear in your vision. “What time is it?”
“You have eyes, look yourself,” Chaewon turns her head towards you dramatically, words slightly slurred as she throws you an unimpressed look. “But it’s 2:43 am. I can’t believe we’re still conscious.”
You groan, rubbing lightly at your eye before she’s talking again, swaying slightly as she speaks. Letting your gaze wander, you let yourself linger on the few people either passed out on messy lawn chairs or calling their friends for late night rides. Some are standing around like you and Chae, heads hanging down and clearly not in their best condition. There’s people with their arms thrown over the shoulders of their friends too, providing obvious support for their less coherent counterparts.
A couple half hidden behind the edge of the balcony catches your eye, your muggy mind inwardly gushing at how cute they are. You want a relationship like that. Their figures are hidden by the shadows of the house, but you can still see how the boy holds her forearm with care as he leans against the stones with her, head tilted impossibly close to the girl’s to display his full attention on whatever she’s telling him through her hushed whispers. 
“—it’s okay ‘cause we’re sleeping over at Johnny’s tonight anyway. And, he has like a thousand guest bedrooms so we can choose any one of them—”
The couple lean into the wall more, the light repositioning as they shift their bodies closer, obviously very comfortable with each other. The girl moves further into the light, shiny hair catching onto the glow as she turns in place. He chases her movements, following her into the beam of the balcony lights as their faces are lit up under the sudden absence of shade.
You breathe out.
No way.
“—and I’ve always wanted to stay at Johnny’s and experience that rich kid life, you know? I wonder what it’s like to—”
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck.
You think that your heartbeat physically stops as you take in the scene before you. Like a thin arrow slicing right through the flesh and tissue of your heart, and it’s violently humbling. Bruising, even.
Stop.
There’s Saemi. And there’s Jeong Jaehyun too in all his glory, looking at her with the stars glittering in his eyes as she tilts her head up towards him.
Your mind goes blank.
“Hey, Y/N, I’ll catch up with you later, okay? Promise.”
That was what, four hours ago?
Ha.
You sober up immediately, like your head has just just been ruthlessly plunged into a bucket of ice cold water. Like God himself is telling you to face the fucking music and come back down to reality. And if you concentrate hard enough, you can even hear your soul shattering, its pieces clattering down and settling at the bottom of your stomach because you actually feel like you might throw up.
I should’ve known, is the phrase that repeats like a mantra in your head, manically getting louder and louder as you blink in pain. Your eyes refuse to leave them for some reason, watching the way his hand comes up to rest on the junction between her neck and shoulder with a delicate touch.
A bitter taste floods your mouth. You feel like you’re playing a one-sided game of push and pull, and it’s worn you out; it’s not disappointment, or even jealousy that fills your body, but fatigue. It’s tiring to let yourself hope, and then get let down time after time and you feel stupid. Disgusted at yourself, even, for attempting to appeal to a boy who had never given you the time of day in the past even though everyone was aware of how blatantly obvious your crush on him was.
You’ve always prided yourself on how true to your own character you are, but in this moment, you feel like a child watching real adults in the real world. Two years' age difference isn’t much in retrospect, but at this moment, Lim Saemi seems like a whole generation above you. Her maturity shines through every part of her — from her gait to the way she dresses to the way she leans into Jaehyun — and you can’t help but let your worst insecurity get to you as they get impossibly closer.
It hurts, because he’s not even mine.
“Y/N, are you listening?”
You don’t answer.
And when the soft plush of his lips come down to place a gentle kiss against her forehead, you decide that you’ve seen enough.
Your mouth feels like paper, your head feels like it’s about to split open, and you feel like shit.
Blearily blinking one eye open and then immediately shutting it after getting a glimpse of an unfamiliar ceiling, you groan out loud before stuffing your face into your arm.
Somehow, the little bit of willpower left in you forces your body to get off of the bed you’re on, stumble through the darkness (you think you accidentally trip over a stray body on the ground too), and feel your way to the hallway. Your brain has completely shut off, but you’re also fucking parched and nothing will get in the way of you and water right now.
Your feet miraculously lead you to the empty expanse of Johnny’s kitchen, little sunlight reaching its pristine tiles at such an early hour. Glancing at the red clock numbers on the oven, you blanch when it displays a mocking 6:04am. You’re lucky that your hangovers don’t hit too hard. Pouring yourself a glass of water, you can finally swallow and lean back against the counter in relief as you take a deep breath.
And that’s when it hits you. That’s when everything hits you.
You almost choke on your water as your mind pulls last night from the depths of its sleepiness, from the drinking to the unwanted feelings to the sensation of blacking out. You remember it all.
Taeyong taking a body shot in front of you (scarred). Johnny making out with one of your close school friends in front of you (scarred x2). Mark handing you drink after drink. Chaewon leading you into the garden for fresh air. And… and seeing the boy you like with a girl you thought he had nothing to do with anymore.
Like a floodgate of torturous memories, your mind automatically replays every little interaction without warning as you throw your head back against a cabinet in regret. It’s as if you have no control over what you get reminded of and what you don’t, because of course, the first thing that flashes before you is the feeling you felt when you saw Jeong Jaehyun in the courtyard. 
His arm wrapped around the shoulder of Saemi’s as your best friend desperately vied for your attention, the girl finally following your line of sight to eventually see the scene you were watching in chilling silence. And Chaewon had noticed it all, from the way he smiled down at her to the very moment he looked up in your direction.
“Y/N…” she had whispered, the pity clear in her tone. You’d turned your head away quickly, not wanting her to see the tears gathering on your lash-line, but she couldn’t help but notice the way you reached up to wipe them away. Your body had gone into autodrive, quickly moving to the side to get away from the two as fast as you could. Chaewon reached out for you before turning back to glare at Jaehyun, surprised to see him already staring right at you.
He seemed unfairly distraught and guilty in her eyes, his gaze conflicted as his hands fell from Saemi’s face in a flash and hovered in the air in shock. A few seconds later and he snapped out of it, leaving her standing alone and rushing over in your direction, seemingly trying to reach you before you got lost in the mass of people inside the mansion. 
As he passed Chaewon’s lingering form, her hand flew out to latch onto his shoulder. 
Shaking her head at him — as if saying, you lost your chance ages ago — it was then that she truly felt awful about the inner turmoil her best friend was constantly subjected to when liking a boy like that. 
Wincing, you press a cheek to the cold marble countertop of the kitchen as all of your thoughts flitter through your consciousness at once. You wish the dull throbbing in your head would stop, and even thinking about it makes you shift uncomfortably in place, itching to just get outside and clear your mind with fresh air.
Fuck it, you decide, no one’s awake anyway. I need to get away, even if it's only for a few moments.
Pushing your hair out of your face, you finish your water before heading out. There’s an unusual smell of artificial roses as you move through the hallways and descend the grand staircase; it’s eerie to walk in a silent house, all of the hallways dark and stoic. Johnny’s mansion looks like a mini natural disaster with the way decorations and bottles are strewn across its marble floors, almost like savages making use of a castle. It’s like a presentation of physical evidence of what took place last night.
Finally making it outside into the crisp morning air, you relish in the chirping of the songbirds and empty expanse of a dew-tipped garden. Taking a deep breath, you shiver slightly before heading down a small hill behind the garden. You recall there being a lake behind the property that Taeyong and Johnny used to bring you to when you were younger, one with a small dock that retreated far enough into the water that you could be alone without having the urge to constantly look towards the house again.
You don’t expect anyone to be awake — or even outside — this early, but it comes as a surprise when you almost trip over a figure sitting on the bottom-most stone step. Putting a hand to your heart, your eyes widen as they turn to look up at you.
“Oh… hi. I didn’t expect anyone would be awake this early.”
“Yeah, I just needed some fresh air,” you say, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. “So I’m going down to the dock…”
“Ah. I see… um. You- you wouldn’t mind if I joined you, right?”
Life is funny sometimes.
As you swing your legs gently above the light waves, you can’t help but think about the irony of the situation you’re in. You bite your lip before turning to the person next to you, their knees pulled up to their chest as they stare out into the water. 
“Saemi…”
The girl turns to you, a hesitant smile on her face as she reaches out for your hand.
Lim Saemi takes your fingers between hers before letting out a deep sigh, the talkative persona she normally holds, gone, as she looks between each of your eyes. The hesitance between the two of you is awkward in a way. You’ve never had a full conversation with her and you’ve always assumed things about her based off of others’ recountings, but she couldn’t be more different now. 
The little imaginary devil on your shoulder shakes her pitchfork at you, as if saying, “you should be hating her, remember?” 
You look down to hide your slight frown.
“I think we have a lot to talk about,” she starts, voice tentative and slow as she purses her lips in contemplation. You still. Nodding your head, you let her move closer to you on the wooden planks of the dock before she makes eye contact with you again.
“You know, sometimes it scares me how alike you and Taeyong look. It’s like staring into a mirror image, and I feel like I see memories in you that I associate with your brother.” 
You cock your head at her words. “...we’re pretty similar people too, I think,” you whisper back, an automatic smile reaching your face as your mind finds its own way to him.
“I think so too,” she grins. “Actually, Taeyong and I have been friends for a long time, and he’s always speaked of you so fondly that I couldn’t help but anticipate meeting you. I would see glimpses of you here and there, and he would constantly mention his baby sister and how much he worried about her. He was the best older brother, and anyone could see it.” She pauses, taking in a deep breath. “Yet he treats his friends the very same way, with the same adoration and care. It doesn’t matter how much Taeyong will grow in the future with his escalating popularity and growing talent in music, he’ll always have the kindest soul in my eyes. I’m genuinely so thankful for him, Y/N.”
To hear someone speak about your brother like that triggers an emotion in you that you didn’t even know you had, gaze curious as you wait for her to continue.
“I don’t really know how to start this conversation to be honest, but- I bet you know how hard high school is.” You nod, grimacing at all of the particular more negative memories you have. “You’re balancing on that fine line between feeling too adult to be in school and feeling too childish to live your own life yet, and I, for one, most definitely didn’t know how to deal with such a sudden change in my social and academic surroundings. I think I changed physically a lot then, too. My face, my body, everything. I started morphing into someone that I couldn’t recognize in the mirror, and I came to the realization that boys liked me first for my appearance, not my personality. And… and you know what I regret the most? I learned how to use my body as a weapon.”
“I learned how to change the way I talk, how to talk to boys so that I could get them to do what I want, and suddenly, everything changed even faster. People flocked to me, which is what I had always secretly wanted, but the person that they wanted wasn’t me. I had flown a bit too close to the sun and now I was stuck with this facade that I couldn’t get rid of. It was never just ‘Saemi,’ I was always simply the object of their desires, something to be acquired. And I had brought it upon myself.”
Recalling the Saemi you knew and recognized in high school, you have a bit more of an understanding of her now. She held up a front in order to protect herself, and as a result, she lost touch with her own self. Your heart hurts for her as you hesitate to reach out and offer comfort. 
“Your brother was the first one who understood me right away. We met in detention during our second to last year, and he saw right through me in the first ten minutes. Sat me down in the teacher’s empty chair and told me that I was a bitch for breaking one of his friend’s hearts.” She closes her eyes as she recalls that very afternoon. “Taeyong gave it to me plain and straight that day: I shouldn’t have promised false love to so many boys if I wasn’t planning to give it in the first place. Your brother may have been a player too, but the boundaries he always set with his girls made him a thousand times better than I was.”
You place your hand on hers, Saemi giving you a grateful smile in return. 
“I thought hard about myself and my decisions after that, and I decided that if I wanted to enjoy the last years of my secondary schooling, I needed to take back control of my own actions. After I apologized to his friend, he offered me genuine friendship in the weeks following, one without the jealousy and lust that I was always caught up in before. I had always been surrounded with so much toxicity, and he was able to pull me out of it so easily that I finally felt seen for the first time.” 
She pauses, glancing at you briefly before staring up at the sky. 
“That was also… the first time I met Jaehyun.”
You shift, staring down at your shoe laces as they sway lightly with the wind. 
Ah, you smile sadly to yourself. We’ve gotten to this part of the story.
“Your brother brought me along with him one day to one of his parties, and I had truly never been enamored with a boy that quickly before.”
You can tell that Saemi’s choosing her words carefully with you, and they hit a lot harder when you relate to what she’s saying. You’re certainly no stranger to his charm.
“We started talking that night and Jaehyun had somehow broken down all of the walls I had carefully built up within the first month of knowing each other. It was new for me. My personal mantra had always followed the lines of, ‘if they like what they see and feel, I might as well use it to my advantage.’ But it was different with him. I didn’t want us to be a one time thing, and I certainly did not want him to think of me as something who couldn’t do that kind of serious relationship shit. I wanted him to like me so badly without thinking about if I had genuine feelings towards him in the first place.”
She takes another deep breath, as if she’s collecting her thoughts, before leaning forward with an airy laugh and sadness clear in her eyes. 
“Have you ever mistaken love for dependency, Y/N?” 
Have you? 
You think back to all the people you’ve liked throughout your teenage years, ranging from hallway crushes to… well- Jaehyun. Your pupils dart to the water as you think about the idea of depending on a person. Do I depend on the people I like, or do I know when to distance myself?
You shake your head. 
“Jaehyun and I… we jumped into everything too quickly. It wasn’t even a right person, wrong time situation; we simply weren’t ready. We tried putting our all into this lone spark that we felt without stepping back and really looking at our relationship.” She stops to observe the rising sun above the lake, its golden reflection casting a healthy glow on her skin. Saemi’s beautiful like this, her feelings bare and raw before you as she lays out her emotions so vulnerably. 
“I guess I never really loved Jaehyun in the way he loved me. He was looking for something tender and real, and younger me was not in the capacity to give that to him. I tried to convince myself every single fucking day that I liked him in that way, but even I knew deep down that my I would never convince myself. I still had this lingering, detrimental mentality of seeing boys as something I could win over, and my fascination with him intertwined with that in ugly ways.”
Saemi’s face falls a little before she takes both of your hands in hers, eyes sincere as she peers at you. 
“The reason I’m telling you all this is because… I saw you,” she whispers carefully, watching your reaction. “Last night. When Jaehyun and I were together in the garden… I saw you watching before you walked away.”
Your heart drops as you look down at her hands holding yours so carefully, her pretty fingers encompassing your wrist as you unwillingly recall the worst emotions you had felt in a while. 
She saw. 
You only manage to get out a small, “oh,” before she squeezes your hand reassuringly. 
“Hey hey hey, look at me,” she leans down slightly to put herself at eye level with you. The edges of her lips quirk up in the slightest, her hair falling elegantly against her face as the wind picks it up and puts it back down again. “I don’t want you to misunderstand. Why? Because all those years ago, Jaehyun misunderstood, and I misunderstood, and it was all of these assumptions and forced feelings that drove our relationship to its grave. We were shit at communicating with each other properly, and that eventually hurt both of us too deeply to heal the right way.”
You nod at her hesitantly, taking in what she’s saying with a newfound understanding. Saemi sighs before smiling again at you. 
“I’ve hurt a lot of people in the past,” she says, forlorn, her eyes crinkled as she sniffs in the cold of the morning. “And I never got the chance to apologize to them properly. But last night, I finally worked up the confidence to revisit our high school days with Jaehyun.” She stops, leaning back onto the dock with her hands behind her. Her eyes close as she soaks in the morning sun, and you can’t help but mirror the position as your heart warms for her. “We finally got our much needed closure last night, and I was feeling a bit down afterwards so he was simply comforting me. And I won’t weigh you down with all the nitty gritty details, but we were able to see our ending all the way through without letting our emotions get in the way.”
You can’t help but reach out and hug the girl, your arms wrapping comfortably around her shoulders to express your awe and gratitude. With a little noise of surprise, Saemi pauses for a few seconds before embracing you back. Everything makes more sense now, and you can’t help but feel a little ashamed for jumping to conclusions so easily. 
“I’m so grateful that you shared all that with me,” you mumble into her shirt, her chuckle ringing out into the lake as she rubs your back like an older sister would. 
“Of course. If anyone deserved to hear all of this, it would be you.”
“Why?”
Saemi snorts, pulling back from your hug before lifting an eyebrow at you. 
“Oh please, Y/N, you should see Jaehyun from everyone else’s eyes. We can all see the way he looks at you.” Your mouth drops open slightly, tilting your head in confusion. 
“He looks at me a certain way?”
“God, I have never met two more stupid people in my lifetime,” she groans, bringing her fingers up to her temple. “And I say this lovingly, of course.”
With a fond look on her face, she nudges your shoulder. “But I’m really glad Jaehyun has someone like you.”
You bashfully look down at the water, a rosy blush creeping up your cheeks at her words. You were never 100% sure of where you stood with him, but that familiar feeling of hope has started to creep up once again. Could I go through that again, though? That same push and pull?
Seeming to sense your sudden aversion, Saemi loops her arm through yours in one smooth motion and sets your hand in her lap.
“Hey. Promise me you’ll go talk to him?”
You hesitate to reply, mouth dry as you think about everything she’s poured out to you. You think about your own feelings, and you think about the possibility of having something more with Jaehyun. You think about his history with Saemi, and how this issue of communication has ruined your confidence so many times. But what is it all worth if you don’t try?
With a slow nod, you offer her a reassuring smile before dusting off your clothes and standing up. “Promise.”
Saemi grins at you.
“That’s my girl.”
“Jaehyun?” she asks, putting a hand out on his arm as he looks behind her, distressed. She’s never seen him like this, a nervous jitter in his hands as his eyes dart around at the scene behind them.
Turning around, she just manages to catch a glimpse of a girl rushing towards the back of the house, her head downturned but not masking the obvious face of discomfort in her features. Her friend turns around to glare at them before following close after.
“Fuck,” he breathes out, chewing on his lip as he hesitates to run after your escaping form. “I fucked up so bad, Saemi.” Running a hand through his hair in frustration, he lets out a noise of exasperation as he watches you get farther and farther away. 
“What?”
“She’s leaving, Saemi. What do I do, what do I do,” he mumbles under his breath. “I just know she’s gonna think I hurt her on purpose. I always fuck it up somehow.”
“Woah, let’s breathe first,” she holds him steady at the shoulders, grip strong as she turns his body to face hers. “Breathe slowly.”
After a few panicked breaths, he looks back at her and attempts to inhale at a slower pace. A few seconds pass and he’s calmed down already, but a worried crease still flits across his features nonetheless.
“Listen to me, Jaehyun. Don’t leave her in the dark.”
His body loses tension bit by bit as he nods back a little, a heavy look in his eyes.
“We both know how that feels, better than anyone.”
Twenty-three missed calls.
That’s how many you’ve accumulated over one day.
You do the math on your bedroom ceiling as you lay splayed out on the mattress like a starfish. Each glow-in-the-dark, plastic star represents a missed call, and they swim across your vision as you point up at them with your hand to count them. 
There’s seven from Mark, another seven from Chaewon, four from Taeyong, one from Johnny, and the remaining four? Mentally moving the glowing stars across the solar system of the ceiling, you pick four of the brightest glowing stars before keeping them hidden in a little group at the corner of your eye.
4 missed calls from Jeong Jaehyun, your phone reads from beside you on the mattress, the screen habitually lighting up throughout the day.
Your hand itches to grab it and just call him like you so desperately want to, but you exercise self-restraint as you roll over and stuff your face into your pillow. It’s unfairly hot tonight — the sticky, humid type —  and being surrounded by all of your fluffy blankets and pillows does nothing to help your condition, but you don’t want to move out of your room. Letting out a muffled scream into the fabric, you groan to yourself when you realize that all of the problems floating around in your head won’t just magically disappear.
A normal Sunday would have gone like this: waking up mid afternoon with an abnormally large appetite, eating the entire contents of your kitchen to your heart’s content, and then going back to bed. Unfortunately, today was a bit different.
For the entire day, you’ve been busy. Busy thinking.
You had quickly left Johnny’s estate after your talk with Saemi early in the morning, borrowing one of Johnny’s cars from his garage and leaving him a little note that you’d return it soon (to be honest, you doubt that he’ll even notice). You’ve been in your room ever since. 
With your eyes trained out the window, your record player ran through entire sets of albums as you lay on your bed in contemplation for the entirety of the afternoon. The fan in your room barely kept you cool as it picked up the fabric of your sundress every few minutes, marking another block of time that had gone by without you getting up and doing something about your position. 
You let out a humph before throwing an arm over your eyes and retreating back into deep thought.
I’ve been distancing myself from him the entire day, and that’s the opposite of what I want to do, right? I’m turning into exactly what Saemi warned me not to.
Biting your lip, you turn your body over to stare at your motionless phone. But what should I do?
In a single impulsive movement, you reach out to grab the device before you can change your mind. Your fingers lead you to your contacts before your brain can catch up.
You can’t even fully register what you’ve just done, but Jaehyun’s name flashing across your screen certainly makes it all very much real, your phone waiting for him to pick up on the other side of the line. Your face gets hotter and hotter as the seconds tick on, the beeping of a no-caller reply heightening your nerves.
Finally, with a little click from your hand, he picks up. Your eyes widen. You really didn’t really think this through; now you had to actually talk to him.
“Hey,” Jaehyun sounds out, his voice breathless. “I- are you okay?”
“Yeah.” At least I think I am, you add on to yourself, grimacing. “Um… are you free today?”
“Am- am I free today? Yes! I mean yes, yes I’m free today.” 
You can’t help but smile at the way he trips over his words a bit, his nervousness bleeding over your speaker. 
“Well then, rooftop at mine at 10?”
“For real?” Jaehyun exclaims, checking the time on his alarm clock. That’s in twenty minutes. “Wait, I’ll be there. I promise.”
And with that, the two of you hang up with a million unspoken words and unfinished sentences. You let out the breath you were holding in, because you genuinely thought you would pass out when you heard Jaehyun’s voice again after finding out all that you did. Throwing yourself against your bed, you let yourself indulge in your feeling of hope again.
“He’ll be here,” you sigh in happiness to yourself. You relax into your pillows before springing up immediately, a look of horror taking over your face. “Oh my god, he’ll be here.”
Rushing around your room with a newfound energy, you make sure you don’t look like you just rolled out of bed (although you technically did just roll out of bed, but he doesn’t have to know that) before unlatching the window of your bedroom and carefully climbing out onto your roof.
It’s well past dusk now, and the sky is abnormally clear with not a single cloud in sight. The moon shines brilliantly in its place as it casts an eerie glow on the panels you’re sitting on, their bumpy texture making it seem like the material is constantly shifting. 
You let yourself go for a moment, resting your head in the palms of your heads before staring out at the roofs of your city. They create a complex, urban terrain: a mix of timely balconies and rooftop gardens, orange lanterns and fairy lights alike. 
The beeping of a car horn brings you out of your daze. Peering down into the street below you, a familiar, classy black car is visible through all of the telephone lines. 
Okay Y/N, deep breaths. 
Jaehyun gets out of the front seat, immediately looking up in hopes of catching a glimpse of you before you notice he’s there. However, when his eyes follow the length of your house up, he finds that you’re already staring at him with an unreadable expression. 
He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this nervous in his life. With cold hands, he lifts himself onto the electrical box beside your house before climbing up onto the slope of the roof, climbing over to you with an uneasy smile on his face. 
“Hey.”
You tuck your chin into your arms, leaning forward to look at him curiously. “You could’ve taken the window, you know, but that works too.”
“What’s life without any risks, hm?”
As he settles himself, you can’t help but think that there’s a double lining to his words. “That’s the most Jaehyun-esque thing I’ve ever heard.”
His laugh warms your heart in a way you didn't know it could.
The first few moments are quiet, just two pairs of eyes looking up at the stars before Jaehyun breaks the silence with a small cough. 
“We got lucky, there’s no clouds tonight. Pure stars.” You look over in his general direction, his gaze not even directed towards the sky anymore. 
He pauses, so you turn and happen to meet eyes at the same time. Both of you open your mouths to talk, prompted by the invisible tension between you. 
“Let me just say that—“ 
“I just wanted to tell you—“ he starts at the same time you do, eyes widening when you both go quiet once again. “You go first.” Giving him a grateful smile, you think a bit about how to express yourself before twisting your body completely so that you’re facing him. 
“I just wanted to apologize first,” you start, holding up a hand when Jaehyun starts to protest. “Wait. I really want to tell you this before I get too nervous to.”
“I know everyone was worried when I went kinda off the grid this morning, but I needed some time alone with my thoughts. I shouldn't have ignored you like that, especially when things seemed so off between us. This is really hard to say to your face but,” you glance away from him as he waits patiently for you, “I always feel this rush of different emotions whenever I’m around you. And sometimes it’s confusing, but other times—“ stopping to exhale, you notice Jaehyun’s grin from the corner of your eye. 
“Hey, why are you laughing? I’m trying to be serious right now,” you whine. He simply puts his hand up to his mouth to hide the elated expression on his face. 
“You’re just too cute, that’s all,” he replies adoringly, his eyes creasing behind his hand. 
“I can’t take this,” you mutter in embarrassment, stuffing your face into your arm to hide the blush of your cheeks. “See! Stuff like that. You make me experience, like, thirty different emotions at once.”
He simply giggles at you, throwing out a little “my bad,” but he doesn’t sound very sorry at all. You nudge him in the arm.
“Sorry sorry, Y/N. Wait, I’ll be serious now.”
Both of you taking deep breaths, you put your hand up to your heart to calm its erratic beating as Jaehyun composes his expression back to normal. 
“I really wanted to apologize too.”
You glance at him in surprise as the words leave his mouth, sincere and heavy. 
“I’ve been pretty shitty to you, and I recognize how confusing it must have been for you to watch me constantly go back and forth between different personas. Honestly, being back home forced me to face the people here, and suddenly I was thrown into this internal conflict between my high school life and my present self. That’s still no excuse for how many mixed signals I gave you these past few months, but I want you to know that it was never my intention to hurt you.”
Reaching out to brush a small leaf off your shoulder, his hand trails down your arm until he’s taken your hand in his. You can tell how much he means it by the way he’s looking at you — like you hold the entire galaxy in your eyes. You think that you finally see a replication of how you look at him yourself; after all, it’s being reflected back to you right now. 
“Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“I hope you can tell, but I really like you,” he whispers, bringing your hand up to his chest. He wants you to feel how much his nerves are racing just as fast as yours. 
You think that your heart just about stops. You’ve dreamt of this moment since you were younger, and now that it’s finally coming to life, it’s unreal to think that he feels the same.
“I think you know how I feel,” you reply back quietly, looking down at your hands entwined with his. 
“Say it?” he asks with a pleading face, the corners of his lips quirking up when you roll your eyes. 
“Jeong Jaehyun, do you really think I believe that you didn’t know that I’ve liked you ever since we were kids?” Shaking his head innocently at your suspicion, he pouts in a manner that’s very unlike him. 
“Fine,” you give up, unable to hide the smile creeping up on your face. “I like you Jaehyun, I like you so much that you don’t even know how happy I am right now.”
“Oh, I know. Come here,” he scoots over before tapping the side of his shoulder with his finger. Not getting the memo, you tilt your head inquisitively before he reaches over himself and puts your head on his shoulder himself. If your heart was skipping beats before, it’s probably failing to beat at all now. 
“I want you to trust me,” he murmurs under his breath, his grip tightening on your hand. “I know I don’t have the best track record right now, but I’ll prove to you how much I like you.”
You furrow your brows in confusion. “You don’t have to prove anything…“ You wholeheartedly believe and trust in his feelings, but with the way he’s looking at you right now, you decide to humor him and raise an eyebrow prompting him to go on. 
“Wait, you’ll do anything?” You ask, looking up at the stars to hide your telling grin. 
“Anything. Even suffer through another one of those awful DiCaprio movies.”
“Suffer?” you exclaim, your head lifting off of his shoulder with his words. 
“Shit- no no not suffer. Who said suffer? You must’ve misheard me, I most definitely said enjoy.”
“You’re on thin ice, Jeong.”
He snorts at your threatening expression, an arm snaking behind you to wrap around your waist protectively. 
Turning his head to look down at you, you’re met with his nose almost touching yours. You can see every eyelash, every freckle adorning his skin as neither of you make the motion to move away. 
Jaehyun loses his breath at the sight of you so close. He keeps his teasing eyes on yours before taking that extra step forward to bump your noses together. Glancing down at your lips, he steadies himself so that his voice can sound as confident as he envisions it in his head. 
“Can I kiss you?”
“Please, Jaehyun.”
With your consent, he pulls you forward by the waist before slotting your lips together carefully. You’re not sure if it’s the pressure at which he’s holding you, or the fact that you’ve waited for this moment for almost your entire youth, but kissing Jaehyun is glorious. 
He moves a hand up to cup the back of your neck before pushing forward impossibly closer, tucking your hair behind your ear in one smooth motion as his mouth moves in tandem with yours. 
You make a noise of surprise when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, giving you a little nip before licking over the skin carefully. The passion and lust that seeps through his tongue is made clear as the minutes pass, and your reactions only spur him on.
Th mix of his skin on yours burning its way across your body and the delicacy at which he touches you makes your heart alight for a completely different reason. Threading your fingers through his hair, you're delighted to find that that particular motion makes him shudder under your hands, and kiss you more like his life depends on it.
After a while of marking each other's skin and exchanging sweet nothings between his kisses, you tap his chest to pull apart for air, your breathless mien making him grin smugly. 
“I’m that good, huh?”
“Shut up, Jaehyun.”
The rings on your fingers clink with his as you hand him a metal camping cup, its silver surface hot to the touch even at night. Glancing up at Jaehyun, you laugh when you catch his skeptical expression. 
“The hell is this…” he asks in borderline horror as the liquid in his cup sloshes around. 
“Mark’s gonna love hearing that,” you remark, putting your own cup to your lips as you bring your knees to your chest.
It’s the most comfortable when you’re with Jaehyun like this, sitting on the hood of his car in the dead of the night to stargaze into the early hours of the morning. 
It’s been a few weeks since that night on the rooftop, and you’ve never felt more alive. From long drives with Taeyong to mini adventures with Mark, and from jukebox diners with Chaewon and constellation hunting with Jaehyun, you finally feel at home in a place you’re about to leave. University is close on the horizon, but that doesn’t mean you can’t spend your last free evenings with the people you love the most. 
“Is this your recipe?” Jaehyun asks, pulling up your legs so that they rest over his lap. You shake your head with a cheeky smile. 
“Stole it,” you whisper, scrunching your nose at the distinct smell. 
“And what did Mark’s creative ass come up with this time,” he laments back, taking your cup to compare it with his in confusion. 
“Our cups hold the same exact thing, Jaehyun. I didn’t secretly poison your drink if that’s what you’re thinking, and I know you are.” You take back your cup before taking another sip and taking a little piece of paper out of your pocket to read from. “But anyway, it's ‘orange liquor, orange juice, lime juice, maple syrup, sliced jalapeño, and agave blanco sugar in the rim.’ You can steal the recipe too, but don't tell him that I gave it to you. He’d murder me.”
“Mm,” he muses, nuzzling into your neck. “I wouldn’t want my girlfriend dead.”
You freeze in mid-air, mind turning the title over and over again in your head. “Girlfriend?”
Jaehyun sits up immediately, looking at you with the most mortified expression on his face. “Fuck, I never asked you to be my girlfriend, did I?”
With a small giggle at his antics, you simply lean against him and pat his arm in consolation. “It’s okay, I don’t need a label to know how you feel about me.” Jaehyun hums contently before suddenly wrapping his arms around you, your delighted shriek ringing out as he pulls you down with him and falls back against the metal roof of the car. 
“Can we just stay like this forever?” 
You sigh in satisfaction as your body follows the rises and falls of his chest. The stars above seem to blink happily at the two of you as they make their way across the sky, the little, twinkling lights of overpassing planes highlighting their presence.
Intertwining your fingers with his, he gently kisses the side of your face before closing his eyes.
Even if the two of you hadn’t realized it yet, it had always been like this: two childish souls crafting the idea of mature love. Two blooming young adults, with fizzing feelings and cherry picked lips, daring to love one another like the grownups in black and white colored movies.
Your summers are defined by sticky ‘n sweet cherry cola, rides around the abandoned carousel with your friends, and “borrowing” quarters out of your brother’s Cadillac to insert into the jukebox of the local diner. They’re tinged with the taste of Mark’s special drinks and Chaewon’s sweet words, with Taeyong’s cheery voice ringing out throughout your house and your parents’ weekly sitcom reruns. And most of all, summers are made of Jaehyun’s lavender cologne and the way he holds you close when you need it the most.
“Don’t be surprised if the moon calls you by name, Y/N, because I tell her about you all the time.”
<3 you can find their character profiles HERE.
[ for Y/N, mark, chaewon, jaehyun, taeyong, and saemi ]
xoxo
2023 © kiachiako | all rights reserved.
2K notes · View notes
adventuringblind · 9 months
Text
Jack
Oscar Jack Piastri x Sister!Reader
Genre: Fluff
Request: yes :) I hope you like it! (Check my masterlist for request status)
Summary: After the incident in Spa, Carlos Sainz posts a tweet essentially saying it’s Oscars fault. His older sister is having none of that.
Warnings: none
Notes: HC format :)
Masterlist
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To Say that Y/N piastri is close with her younger brother would be truthful.
But nobody knows how protective she is
She’s always been this way.
Oscar has always been chill
He tries to keep his emotions in check and remain level headed
It’s good for most occasions
But he also lets people walk over him because of it
Oscar hasn’t told anyone of his families nickname for him
His sisters all call him Jack
He likes it
But it’s reserved only for the people closest to him
Now comes Spa
The most amazing weekend he’s had yet
Until his stupid DNF
He didn’t get it
How his weekend could go from amazing to terrible in a matter of seconds
He was thankful his sister was there to greet him when he made it into the garage
She watched the rest of the race with him after he changed into regular clothes
Then a half hour later he gets a twitter notification
A tweet from Carlos about the DNF and how Oscar made a rookie mistake
It’s not completely wrong
But this hurt
Why didn’t he come talk to him before he went to the internet?
Is this how Alpine felt?
Is this karma?
He shows his sister the tweet and she’s LIVID
She’s strutting off to the Ferrari garage before Oscar can stop her
So he follows
She locates him just outside of hospitality getting ready to do more interviews
“The was uncalled for?”
“And who are you?”
“The protective big sister.”
Oscar knows that when this happens it’s best to just let her go and he’ll drag her away if it escalates to much
“So he can’t defend himself now?”
“He can, he just won’t. He’s to gentle for that.”
“What he did to my car says otherwise.”
“Look, nobody gets to talk about my Jack like that. It’s just flat out rude.”
“Jack?”
Everyone in the vicinity now looks extremely confused
The female just smirks and walks away
Oscar following her in tow
Questions star popping up about this supposed Jack and if Oscar is Oscar or if he’s Jack
The confusion is absolutely hilarious
“Thanks for standing up for me… again.”
“Pretty sure it’s my job. Nobody gets to smack talk you like that Jack. Unless it’s me, then that’s a different story.
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nico-di-genova · 6 days
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Late Night Talks - Strollonso
Written for the prompt: [Lance and Fernando] dead-tired in bed, curled up to each other and they keep making dumb jokes and laughing at them
Warnings: NSFW, not super explicit, but mentioned.
@raapija hopefully this is sort of what you were looking for, I started with answering your prompt and then it just sort of got away from me.
Post Singapore is quickly becoming Lance’s least favorite post-race kind of feel, second only to Qatar which exists in a league of its own. He doesn’t do well in the heat, his body acclimated to colder climates and snow that comes up to his knees. Miami is about the closest he’ll come to acceptable humidity, and only when he can couple it with the lukewarm temperature of the ocean and the salty spray that comes from zipping through the waves on the back of a boat’s tow. But Singapore is the sort of wet heat that clings to you until you can’t breathe around it, it makes driving a car for two hours in on-the-limit conditions near impossible.
“I feel disgusting,” he complains to Fernando, drying the back of his wet hair with a hotel towel and grimacing. He still feels like he has sweat clogging his pores, embedded in his hair follicles, couldn’t seem to get himself clean no matter how hard he scrubbed at his skin.
Fernando, who had taken a shower in his own room because if they had shared it wouldn’t have resulted in attempting to get clean at all, wears a matching expression of discomfort. He’s sprawled across Lance’s bed, in nothing but his boxers and normally that would inspire something in Lance. But sex, especially with Fernando, is a sweaty endeavor and he would like to avoid adding to his already uncomfortable state.
Doesn’t stop him from getting hard anyway, noticeably tenting the towel low on his hips.
Fernando arches an eyebrow, peaks down at Lance through heavy-lidded eyes.
“No, ignore that.”
“Hard to ignore,” Fernando quips, but he’s just as exhausted as Lance and it shows when he doesn’t make an effort to sit up and pull Lance closer. Instead he closes his eyes and readjusts his arm where it’s resting under his head, lets out a sigh that Lance knows is a prelude to quiet snores.
“Don’t fall asleep there,” he complains, shucking off the towel long enough to slide on his own underwear, “You’re taking up the whole bed, asshole.”
He still needs to brush his teeth, probably make an attempt at skincare before the grime of the day sets in and breakouts quickly follow. But standing is beginning to take a lot of effort. It’s like he can feel the weight of the heat bearing down on his shoulders, even though they’re inside, can still feel it pressing on his chest. It’s a good thing they have a late flight tomorrow because Lance’s future plans include nothing more but sleeping until the bone deep exhaustion makes its way out of him.
Fernando hasn’t moved, still lays with his knees hanging off the bed, one arm flung out beside him, legs spread just as wide, like he’s intentionally trying to take up as much space as possible. He nudges Fernando’s knee with his own and it’s the only warning the man gets before Lance is collapsing down beside him, the full weight of him landing on Fernando’s outstretched arm and half on top of his body. They’re laying sideways on the bed, and Lance is too tall for this, immediately finds it uncomfortable. But Fernando smells nice, and he’s warm where Lance presses up against him, so he allows it for the time being. Even if Fernando’s arm is bony and uncomfortable where it’s digging into Lance’s side.
“You are still wet,” Fernando grumbles, still with his eyes closed, still half-asleep, “Off.”
“It’s my bed, old man,”
They share a hotel room most nights now, the separate bookings nothing more than a charade, but they are still technically in Lance’s room. Ignoring Fernando’s griping, he presses closer, throws a leg over the man’s body, finds the crook of Fernando’s neck and nuzzles his nose there, lets his wet hair brush against Fernando’s cheek, until Fernando is wriggling away in discomfort. Annoyance is not a tactic he employs frequently, nor is it one that typically works on Fernando, but it works tonight.
“Like a soggy cat,” Fernando chastises, and then sits up, taking his comforting scent and presence with him.
Lance smiles, satisfied, shifts until he’s right way up on the bed and can let his damp hair soak into the pillows. Fernando lets him get comfortable and then he lays back down, this time with his head resting on Lance’s chest, an area devoid of the moisture from the shower. His breathing evens out pretty quickly, tells Lance he’s quickly drifting back toward unconsciousness. One of his hands splays across Lance’s bare stomach, low enough that his fingers brush along the hair there.
And now it’s his turn to be annoying, because Fernando knows he’s sensitive, uses it to his advantage when he lets his pinkie inch down further.
“This is a dangerous game,” he warns, feels himself grow harder in his underwear.
He can feel when Fernando smiles against him, prickly beard rubbing against the raw skin of his chest with the curl of his lips, “You don’t want to play?”
“Too tired. It would be pretty boring, anyway. I don’t wanna move,” Lance lying flat on his back, Fernando half asleep, both of them pawing at each other’s dicks with flagging interest until the exhaustion won out and the draining adrenaline finally took the last bit of energy they had left. He doubts he could even cum, as tired as he is. And if he did he’d have to trudge back to the shower because no way is he waking up in the morning with cum dried tacky on his stomach alongside the inevitable sweat from being pressed next to Fernando, the human furnace, during the night.
Fernando laughs, quiet, rumbling, “You are a pillow princess anyway.”
“Hey.”
“Is true.”
“It is n-“ he thinks of last night, how Fernando had tried to goad Lance into riding him and he’d made himself more at home on his back. He liked looking up at Fernando, liked burying his head in the crook of his neck and scratching desperately at his back. All things that were pretty hard to do if he was sitting in the air having to dictate the rhythm himself. Lance wasn’t lazy, he just knew what he liked, so sue him.
Fernando knows he’s won when Lance changes the subject. “How do you even know that word?” he’s absentmindedly threading his fingers through Fernando’s hair, the strands mostly dry where Lance’s was still soaking into the pillow. His hair is soft, always well-maintained, soothes something inside Lance because the texture is familiar.
Fernando hums, pleased. Lance tries not to preen at the sound. Pillow princess his ass, he likes to make Fernando feel good too. He can put in the work. If the work is done easily on the comfort of his back.
“I am only forty-two, Lance. Not so old I do not know things.”
“One foot in the grave practically.”
Fernando scoffs, pinches Lance’s stomach in retaliation, “Yes. We go shopping for my headstone tomorrow, pick out flowers.”
Age used to be a thing between them. Back when this started a year ago. When Lance was twenty-four and Fernando still looked at him like he was seeing that kid standing in the Ferrari garage. It had been a thing approximately until the moment Lance took matters into his own hands, took Fernando’s cock in his mouth with practiced ease and any internalized war Fernando was fighting went right out the window. And then it had resurfaced with force the first time Fernando fucked him so hard he was sobbing into the sheets, the sex quickly aborted when Fernando got scared he’d done something wrong, no matter how many times Lance tried to promise it was only that he’d been doing everything right. So they’d had to have a serious discussion, establish boundaries, ensure Lance was in the right headspace to be in a relationship with a man he’d known since he was nine. Now they could joke about it, had put in the work so that the gap in their ages no longer mattered.
“A suit too?” Lance teases, accompanying the press of his words with the pads of his fingers against the base of Fernando’s skull, a pressure he knows helps because of all the times Fernando has done it for him.
Fernando laughs again, more gravely, barely there, “We are planning a funeral or a wedding?”
Lance thinks, stares up at the ceiling and tries to think of a reply that won’t leave him sounding strangled. Wedding. He is startled to find he likes that word, likes it coming from Fernando’s mouth with the concept of Fernando being the person waiting for him at the altar.
“Both. Two birds with one stone,” and then the image of a funeral wedding, both of them standing in a half-dug grave, an arch being replaced with a gravestone, becomes suddenly so funny he can’t stop giggling at the thought of it. “We could leave the reception in a hearse.”
It maybe speaks to his level of exhaustion that he can’t seem to stop laughing at the nonsensical turn in the conversation.
Fernando is still smiling, Lance can still feel it, “You are weird.” He says, and Lance can hear the alternate meaning in the statement, how fond it sounds.
“Been called worse,” Lance jokes, makes sure it stays that, because they both know there’s an element of truth to it. “You almost podium and you are talking about funeral weddings. Strange.”
Oh, yeah, P4. Singapore maybe had taken so much out of him because he’d pushed himself to nearly P3 with nothing but pure spite to fuel him. .3 of a second back from Sergio, chasing the unfamiliar sight of a Red Bull to the finish. He’d felt the desperate need to make up for last year, shut up a certain faction of people that couldn’t seem to keep his name out of their mouths. It wasn’t a podium though, only nearly one, so he still wasn’t particularly satisfied. Fernando had carried most of the excitement for him, praising him in post-race interviews and hugging him as soon as they climbed out of their cars. Lance had already seen pictures of the moment caught from his still active onboard, Fernando’s hand drifting to its natural place at his waist, the other on the back of his helmet. There was of course no sound, so no one had heard the praise Fernando showered him with before they went to be weighed.
‘So proud, cariño. So proud.’
“Almost a podium, Nano. It was P4,” Lance says now, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand, slinking down further into the pillows. Fernando shuffles with the movement, until he’s beside Lance and then they’re both on their sides, parallel to each other. Fernando’s arm wraps around his waist, pulls him closer.
Lance studies the wrinkles forming at the corners of Fernando’s eyes, reaches out to trail the pad of his thumb along them. It is probably one of his favorite features, the mark of years’ worth of laughter. Lance likes to think of Fernando happy, likes when he can make Fernando smile enough that the lines deepen. He doesn’t like when Fernando presses his lips together as he’s doing now, a thin line of dissatisfaction.
“Still a good result.”
Lance concedes, “Yeah, it wasn’t bad.” Could have been better, would have been if he’d been able to manage his tires better on the entry to turn seven like his engineer had requested.
He yawns again, curls closer to Fernando so now he’s the one with his head tucked under Fernando’s chin. If they were still outside, still in their cars, the warmth rolling off Fernando would be unbearable. But the temperature of the hotel has been set to freezing, so his body is beginning to return to a stable level of self-regulation.
“Next time you will get around Perez.”
“He’s in a rocket ship, man. You want me to teleport to P3?” He mumbles against Fernando’s neck, eyes drifting shut, weight of his body sinking further into the mattress.
“Lawrence can hire people. Make that possible. He would invent this for you, I think.”
They both laugh, and then Fernando is rambling something about holding Sergio back next race, letting Lance take P3, and then P2 and then, impossibly, they both know, P1. It’s half in French, half in the bits of Spanish Lance is picking up but is too tired to follow, and then it trails off into nothing because Fernando finally lets the exhaustion win. Lance follows behind not long after.
When they wake in the morning it is to the ringing of Fernando’s phone, to the frantic texts buzzing through on Lance’s. They missed their flight, which means the morning sex isn’t rushed. It means that Lance gets to lay on his back, lazy and selfish, while Fernando teases him but continues to thrust with measured accuracy above him. He lets Fernando mark the skin at the nape of his neck as compensation for doing all the work, lets him suck at the soft skin there until Lance is sure the hickey will take a while to fade.
And maybe Singapore isn’t that bad after all. Despite the heat. Lance thinks he could justify the humidity like he does for Miami, if P4, senseless late night talks, and Fernando’s smile when Lance pants his name are the reward for enduring the climate. It all feels worth it in the end.
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a2btow · 18 days
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A Guide that When Can You Use a Professional Car Recovery and Towing Service in Albans
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rs-hawk · 4 months
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The Thunderbird: Part One
If you like Indigenous mythology, make sure to follow me for updates on my Indigenous Americans Folklore Romance staring January 15, 2024!
You never really listened to your mother about what was out there. You always considered the old stories to be that. Just stories. Everything they talked about could be easily explained by science. Well, maybe not everything, but at least most things. Believing in those stories made you feel like you were playing into the stereotype of a “superstitious Indian”. Frankly, it angered you if you thought about it too much, because if you didn’t, you felt like you were denying such an important part of yourself.
However, if anyone asked, and if you were to look in your heart of hearts, you had to honestly say that you didn’t believe. They’re just stories. Stories made to explain things your ancestors didn’t understand, and to be warnings to keep children safe. Like why you shouldn’t go into the woods alone, or why you should try to find cover during thunderstorms. Maybe if you had listened though, you could have just continued your life.
On New Year’s Eve, you were driving home from your parents’ house. You had work the next day, unfortunately, and your family can get a little out of hand at parties. It wasn’t quite midnight, but you didn’t mind reigning in the New Year alone. You just wanted to be able to get some sleep.
As you thought about how much part of you wished you could have stayed, you saw lightening flash across the sky. You slowed down, wearily watching for another flash, when thunder boomed so loudly your car shook. Your stomach dropped through your feet to the floor, with your heart following when you see what can only be described as a bird the size of a helicopter.
Your entire body trembled as you watched it soar through the dark sky, but even more so when the creature slammed into the ground in front of you. All the stories your mother said came racing back to you. Men turned to monsters by their immoral actions. Creatures too beyond human comprehension, so this is all we can see with our human eyes.
You weren’t sure what happened next, but the hood was ripped off of your car, and the cold winter air seeping into your bones. The creature peered inside at you, chirping and clicking at you. You swallowed hard as it’s long beak picked you up by the collar, dropping you on the ground beside your car. You couldn’t even scream. The fright left you feeling numb.
A caw that sounded like thunder boomed from the beak as it bumped its head against your cheek. Other stories also bubble up from the back of your mind. Creatures beyond humans, who won’t even have a Chief of War as they are above it. Protectors of their cousin nations. Protectors of sister tribes. Those who live just beyond, in the upper world. The closest to Father Sun and Mother Moon that any of Their children will ever be.
You stood up on trembling knees, and the creature just watched you. After a few moments, you started walking along the street, wondering if it would follow you. There was another flash of lighting in the sky, followed by a deep boom of thunder. You know it’s from the bird. As you’re walking, you see a massive pile up ahead. Police cars and ambulances circle the cars, pulling out survivors. If you hadn’t stopped when you saw that thing, you would have been here. In that carnage.
Fear made a lump bubble in your throat as a police officer walked up to you. “Are you alright Miss? It’s freezing out here. Were you involved in the accident?”
“No. No, um, I was attacked a little way back but it left. It destroyed my car so I was going to walk home,” you explained, not wanting to really explain what happened. How could you?
The officer frowned, looking you up and down. “You’re sure that’s what happened?”
Heat flushed your cheeks as you nodded. You knew what he was thinking, but you weren’t drunk. You hadn’t touched a drop. “Yes sir, but I’m alright. I’ll call a tow truck in the morning.”
He grunted out a “fine” before turning away to pay attention to the scene in front of you. The booming of thunder made you wince, drawing your coat closer to you.
To continue this story, check out the IAF Romance Series tier on my Ko-fi here! Hope to see you there
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deancasbigbang · 7 months
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Title: Baby's Driver
Author: entropic_saudade
Artist: Sketcheun
Rating: Explicit
Pairings: Endgame Dean/Cas, Sam/Eileen, mentioned past Sam/Jessica, past John/Mary, mentioned background Belphegor/Ardat, past Kelly/Lucifer, past Bobby/Karen, implied past Dean/Lee Webb, mentioned past Dean/others, mentioned past Cas/others, Garth/Bess, past Bobby/Crowley, Chuck/Becky, past Chuck/multiple unnamed women
Length: 140000
Warnings: Major Archive Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence Other warnings: ableism, graphic depictions of illness and injury, graphic depictions of medical treatment, childhood cancer and associated diseases, canon-typical violence, canon-typical child neglect, canon-typical childhood trauma, trauma, sexual harassment, minor character death, mentioned sexual assault, kidnapping, alcohol use, mentioned alcoholism, guns.
Tags: Alternate Universe, getaway driving, heists, music, selectively mute Dean, neurodivergent characters, mutual crushes, found family, happy ending, pop culture references.
Posting Date: October 23, 2023
Summary: Dean has been working as a getaway driver for Crowley for the last fourteen years, and has survived by developing a few simple rules: always pick the right music, keep an eye on the time, never give out his real name, and most importantly, make no personal connections with anyone on the job.  Making no personal connections with anyone new is easy when he has difficulty talking in his own words.  Enter Cas, who, in order to pay for his nephew Jack’s life-saving medical treatment, decides to break bad by joining Crowley’s operations. Unlike most of his brothers, he’s new to the world of crime, but Gabriel’s list of survival tips, and their driver’s skills and quiet demeanor have a way of reassuring him.  Throughout the course of several months, their rules fall to the wayside as they fall for each other, each unable to say the words ‘I love you’ for differing reasons.  Cas’ past family life complicates things when Lucifer comes around, wanting to know how Cas is getting the money to pay for Jack’s treatment. Everything comes to a head, and they realize just how connected their world is when Dean is kidnapped.  A Baby Driver-inspired AU.
Excerpt: With little over four minutes counted on his internal clock, a trilling alarm pierced the air as three figures ran out, each with stuffed bags in tow.  Right on time.  While the other two piled in the back, one of the masked figures frantically pounded on the passenger side window with the butt of his shotgun. “Open the door!” he yelled, voice muffled.  Dean rolled his eyes, popping the handle, showing that it was already unlocked. Dean pressed play, not waiting for him to finish closing the door behind him before tearing off.   His tires burned rubber on the pavement.  One street, two streets, three streets whizzed by as Dean narrowly avoided red lights, ignoring honks and angry yells from other drivers, racing to get onto the next access road.  “Get your motor runnin’, head out on the highway!” Dean weaved between the beats of the music and the cars around him, riding the gas a little harder to try to put as much distance between their car and the bank as he could.  The goon in the backseat and Bela, who had played fake hostage, looked behind them and swore. Dean glanced up at the rearview mirror to see that civilian cars had started to part like the Red Sea for a squealing squadron. The sirens chased them down, joining in and almost drowning out the lyrics– “Yeah, darlin’, gonna make it happen”– so Dean cranked it up in response, lowering the rear windows so that they could put their firepower to use.  Whether it was intentional or coincidence, if it was set to some kismet choreography by the Powers That Be, or if it happened because Dean had a preternatural sense about timing things like this, Bela and Backseat shot their guns in sync to “Fire all of your guns at once,” popping the tires of two of the closest police cars. The cars skidded sideways and to a halt, causing a pile-up behind them.  Dean smoothly ducked under an overpass only to be greeted by a row of road spikes being laid up ahead when he emerged. With a glance to the side, he noticed that some construction workers had graciously left behind a gift for him, and decided to take advantage. Dean made a sharp turn, avoiding the teeth of the spikes.  The tempo of the drums picked up pace as Dean picked up speed. Bela put her seatbelt on and held on tight to the grab handle above her, while the guys in the backseat and next to him started begging when they realized what he was doing. “No, no, wait–!”  “What are you–?” “We can climb so high, I never wanna die…” Dean went hard on the throttle up the construction ramp, gathering enough momentum so they could soar over a concrete divider. In the few seconds that they were up off the ground, the bags in the backseat lifted off the laps of his accomplices, suspended for a moment — “Born to be wi-ild…”
DCBB 2023 Posting Schedule
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strikereurekastits · 13 days
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𝐂𝐃𝐑. 𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐏 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒
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Note: This is a reupload, my old account being fucky so here we are again!
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— Phillip is from Nashville, Tennessee (Bellevue Neighborhood). I do think he moved around a bit because I can see him coming from a family where military service was very common for the men of the family so he also lived in Texas, Kentucky, Louisiana, North Carolina and Georgia. He seems like the kid that just moved around a lot. — His birthday is June 1st, 1985 — He gives me Gemini vibes — His personality type is ESTP-A — He's a bisexual. — Grew up higher middle class
— He's either Russell Adler's son or related to him, they look pretty similar so like yeah they are probably family. If so related on his paternal side of the family — Phillip was not an only child and had two other siblings, one older and one younger then him. All boys too who have served as well — He wasn't a momma's boy or dad's boy, he was in fact Grandma's boy. He was really close with his grandmother and it's where he learned how to cook. He spent a lot of time with his grandparents and he was their favorite. — In comparison to everyone else I think Graves is about 5'9 or maybe 5'10, him and Soap look to be similar height when we see them together so I lean more 5'10 — Graves definitely has a couple of tattoos, I'm not totally sure what yet but at least placement I feel like his upper arms. He's a business man so he knows having to maintain professionalism with work — He doesn't seem like he played football growing but actually baseball and also on the swim team as well — Graves has ridden horses before, often when he was staying at his grandparents property when he was younger but after enlisting he hasn't been back in the saddle but he knows how to ride — He does in fact own several cowboy hats and probably had one that is themed to Shadow Company too — Graves enlisted in the Marines when he was seventeen and I think in the process went to school and was a business major — He's a truck guy but in a practical sense. He's got two of them, he's got his pretty one and then the one that's actually used for what a truck is used for. The pretty one is the work truck which is a 2017 black chevy Silverado. His other truck is well kept 1979 Chevy Silverado.
— He's a car guy, I think he loved working on them and that's his main hobby. He loves doing the restoration process and takes great pride in what he does. His house has a large garage solely so he can be doing that. — He definitely is into motorcycles but I can see him being more into the sports ones. I think he grew up having a dirt bike at some point and that love for them as also stayed through out his life. He's got a black YAMAHA YZF R6 that he usually drives during the late spring, summer and into late fall. — He's animal guy™. I feel like he if he was around more often then not he'd have plenty of them. He's the type to bring home strays or show up back with a new puppy in tow. He's got a soft spot for them and loves them. He'd probably own a thoroughbred gelding named Ace at some point in his life too. — Graves isn't exactly a lightweight when it comes to drinking but he's also not kicking back shots getting ten down and just barely feeling a buzz. He drinks, not frequently but can handle his liquor decently well. He'd a whiskey and bourbon guy. — Graves and Oz are close, it's why he trusted Oz to take over. I feel like Oz is probably the closest Graves has gotten to having a best friend. He's made friends but he never had a best friend but he finds that in Oz. They are practically brothers. — He's not exactly superstitious but I do feel like he holds someone the Appalachian superstitious do to his grandmother and grandfather on both sides holding them but he's mostly a skeptic on stuff. — He's agnostic from a family of Christians, his family aren't God fearing people and taught their boys to respect others and who they are. He stopped stepping into a church when he was about fourteen. — There's never an explanation to the scar on his cheek and the clip in his ear but I think it was extremely close call when he was Marine Raider with a sniper. If he had just been moved over a little bit more or didn't move, he wouldn't have been there. He thinks a lot about it when he looks at it. It's a reminder of where he had been and how far he's come. — Graves still wears his old dog tags plus the ones that get issued to Shadow Company soldiers. He takes pride in the ones from the Marines and holds them close to his heart. He always wears them or has them on his person when he's on missions. He was a marine and he's always going to be a marine. — He's an occasionally smoker, I don't think it's frequent but he does occasionally smoke especially if he gets insanely stressed out but he probably curbs a lot of it with vaping. He's perfectly is Marlboro Blacks or American Spirits Black. — While he hasn't lived really the country life before, I do think he does own a home out in Tennessee and a property in Wyoming that's out there in the country. He may not have been raised in it, Graves falls into the hard working lifestyle that comes from the country and one day hoped to retire to it with a family of his own too. — Graves has had relationships here and there over the years, plenty of flings and hookups but nothing that's probably lasted then about year and half. I think he's a loyal guy, he wants something genuine and connection. I don't think he's a cheater, once he settles on someone he's a ride or die kind of guy.
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tooearlyforthis · 1 year
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Partners in Crime | part one
Ahh part one is out y'all! I'm so excited for you guys to read this. Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for this series!
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Hopper!Reader
Word Count: 5.5k
Synopsis: With Y/n’s love letters anonymously sent out, she struggles to deal with the fallout and the boys who got them.
Warnings: language, fluff, heavily inspired by To All the Boys I've Loved Before by Jenny Han.
Click here to see my masterlist , click here for series masterlist
part two / part three / part four
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This was not happening. Why did this have to happen? She had such a good streak; no accidents since the fender bender of ‘84. But of course, some idiot in a ford capri came out of nowhere, slamming into the side of her car. 
At least time this wasn’t her fault. That asshole was blasting music and didn’t care to see where he turned. He didn’t even stay around for the aftermath, driving off before she could get a good look at the license plate. The nearest gas station was over two miles away, but with no car phone, it was her only option. 
Pushing her car as much as she could to the side of the road and out of traffic, Y/n Hopper began her trek.
Robin Buckley, her long time friend, was waiting for her at Starcourt Mall. They were going to get food, talk; a normal afternoon of laughs and shopping. But now, it would have to wait. 
She could imagine how pissed off her father would be. After years of begging him for a car, she finally got one. Granted, it was a run down piece of shit - but it was her piece of shit and she wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Finally making it to the end of the block, she felt a light shinning from behind. It casted her in a silhouette on the pavement below. Blocking the glare with her arm, she turned around to see a bmw pull up next to her. 
Leaning his arm out the window, Steve Harrington stared down at her. He had this look on his face - somewhere between the line of laughing and pity.
“Is that car back there yours?” He asked, a hint of mockery in his voice. 
Already annoyed, she asked, “What’s it to you?” 
Despite fighting monsters together for the past few years, they were not friends. At least, they weren’t friends now. Back in middle school, she would have even called him her closest friend. But then douche bags came a long and pulled not him, but their entire friend group apart.
“Do you need a ride? I can call a tow truck,” he asked, bringing her back to reality.
The last thing she wanted to do right now was spend her afternoon with Steve Harrington. But then again, it was better than walking. 
“Fine,” she said, walking over to his passenger side door. 
Pulling on the already unlocked handle, she climbed inside. Sitting crossed armed, she watched as he called the tow truck with his luxury car phone. Of course he had a phone in his car - she forgot how rich his family actually was. 
He looked different from the last time she saw him. His eyes were sunken, a bad posture and too many cuts on his hand for a normal teen. Putting the phone down, he directed his attention back to her. Y/n quickly subverted his gaze, forgetting how awkward things had become between them.
Sure, they could talk when the occasional monster came to town, or when they were will mutual friends. But it was hard to bond with a person when death was looming over their shoulders. Plus, he started dating Nancy Wheeler - another ex-friend from the same group in middle school. 
It felt weird to be around the couple, especially since Steve and Y/n had shared a first kiss. She never forgot that embarrassing game of spin the bottle years before. 
She had such a crush on his after that, going as far to even right him a letter. God, the letters, how could she forget?
“Where were you heading?” he asked, pulling into her neighborhood. 
Startled by the question after so much silence, she stuttered. “U-uh, Starcourt. I was meeting Robin.”
“Oh, I could have dropped you off there.”
“No it’s fine,” she protested. “She’s probably gone anyways and I trust her driving less than mine.”
That got a chuckle out of him. “Yeah that’s smart.” Robin was the only thing besides the kids that still tied her to the Harrington boy. They worked together and even became kind of friends but Y/n tried her best to avoid him. “Though I do have to say you’re car looked pretty bad back there. What did you do, flip it on its head?”
She rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t that bad! No, some guy came out of nowhere and ran the stop sign.”
“Dang.”
“Yeah…” she replied, letting the car fall quiet as they pulled up to her house. Before getting out, she turned back to him one last time. “Well, thanks I guess.”
“Anytime, Hopper,” he replied with a smirk.
Before she knew it, he was driving off down the road and their yearly encounter had came and went. Now she had to deal with the with the wrath that was her father Jim Hopper. 
He took it better than she thought. No yelling, no stern talks, only concern that she was safe. 
“I’ll get your car tomorrow from Frank and we’ll take it down to the shop,” he said, placing the last plate on the kitchen table.
Y/n asked, “You sure you’re not mad?”
“No, honey. I mean, that guy came out of nowhere right?” She nodded. “Then there was nothing you could have done. Go get El, dinners almost ready.”
Nodding, she walked down the hall knocking on her sister’s door. It opened on its own to reveal Eleven sitting on her bed reading a comic Max Mayfield had given her. She smiled when she saw her sister in the doorway.
“Dinner’s ready, come on,” Y/n said, making El immediately stand up. Tonight was breakfast for dinner which meant only one thing - waffles. “I’ll meet you there let me go take my shoes off.”
Watching as her sister ran off to help get glasses for the table, she went to her own room. She kicked off her shoes toward the closet, deciding to hang up her jacket as well. As she prepared herself for dinner, Y/n let her mind wander back to the encounter with Steve. More specifically, the letter she wrote him.
She never sent any of her letters, but found that putting all her emotions onto one page helped her deal with it. 
When she was little, Y/n watched her mother and father argue to no end. Well, there was an ending - divorce. She saw what it did to them, bringing out the worst in each other. So when the day came when she finally had a crush on a boy, she decided to write him a love letter. 
Love letters were the cheesiest thing she could have chosen but it got the job done. It let her pour her heart out without consequences - no rejecetion, no dissapointment. Thinking back to those letters, she reached under her bed. There she grabbed an old shoe box she store them. 
There were five letters - five people that at one point in her life had her heart and they didn’t even know it.
“Y/n ,” El said, peeking her head into the room. “Dinner is getting cold.”
Y/n whipped her head out fast, shoving the box under her bed. “Right, yeah." She stood up quickly. “I’m coming.”
No one knew about the letters, not even Robin. And she intended for it to stay that way. 
🖊️🖊️🖊️
To say the week had gone bad was an understatement. A not so great essay and a shitty chemistry lab led to Y/n getting to school early with Robin. 
The school was always so quiet in the mornings. It was the most peaceful it could get before sweaty, hormonal teenagers filled the hall. Plus, her car was still in the shop which meant she had to catch an early ride with her dad anyways. 
“I bet it wasn’t that bad,” Robin said as they pushed open the doors to the school.
“Oh it was, trust me,” she replied. “Thanks for meeting again to go the library I really appreciate it.”
“Don’t sweat it. I need to work on math homework anyways.”
They thought the hall was empty, but turning the corner proved they were so very wrong. The clicking of boots echoed as Y/n made eye contact with the one person she tried desperately to avoid. 
Billy Hargrove, in all his mullet glory, sauntered down the hall toward them. When he saw Y/n , a smirk formed on his face, finishing with a wink. Y/n froze in the hall, grabbing on to Robin's arm to stop her as well.
“What are you-“ Robin tried to ask but Y/n interrupted her.
“Let’s go the long way,” she said, dragon her friend to continue straight instead of passing her former hookup.
If you told Y/n at the start of school that she had hooked up with Billy Hargrove, she would have laughed in your face. But, if you told her that after the fact, she caught feelings for him - she would have said the apocalypse was more likely.
When Billy had first moved into town, he was all anyone could talk about. Y/n had ran into in at her arcade job where he was dropping off his little sister. And well, you say that she left work early that day. 
But of course, being the hopeless romantic she was, she developed a crush on Billy Hargrove. She didn’t know why. The way he walked, the way he could hold command of a room... All she knew was he wasn’t a girlfriend type of guy and she needed to get rid of her feeling fast.  
In the bottom of that shoe box under her bed another love letter sat addressed to him.
“Y/n did you hear anything I said?” Robin asked, pulling her out of her thoughts. 
“No, sorry could you repeat?”
Rolling her eyes as they entered the library, she fell into a whisper. “I heard that Steve and Nancy broke up.”
Y/n 's head whipped to face her. “Really?”
“Yeah. She dumped him for Jonathan Byers.”
She withheld a gasp. Jonathan was another friend from the ex group in middle school. She never wold have imagined Nancy to go after him. “Damn, I didn’t expect that.”
“Right! Like, I don’t know Jonathan that well but I mean, come on! Steve has changed his douche bag ways, I can see it at work.”
Y/n nodded along as she took out her notebook, getting lost in her head once more. The day began to blend together. One minute she was studying with Robin in the library, the next, running side by side in gym class.
Running was not her first choice when it came to sports. She was fast and could make the track team if she tried. But Y/n never felt very athletically inclined.  She was happy, however, that she got to share the class with her friend. 
Robin was going on about something her crush said earlier that week but Y/n couldn’t bring her attention to it. Instead, focused on a voice calling her name from behind.
Stopping, she pulled Robin off the track in an attempt to not get trampled by other students. They watched as Steve Harrington ran up to them.
“There you are Hopper,” he said, finally catching up. He took a moment to catch his breath. “Can we talk for a second?”
Why would Steve Harrington want to talk to her? 
“Uh sure?” she said.
He glanced over at Robin who stared at him with crossed arms. “Alone?”
Y/n looked over at her friend, who stood with crossed arms. “Wow,” Robin said, dripping with sarcasm. “Okay, Harrington.”
“I’ll meet you afterward?” Y/n asked.
“No, I get it. I’m being replaced.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Don’t get annoyed with me dingus! Stack the tapes at work correctly and maybe you have a say in this.”
Robin took off again down the track as another wave of students passed them. Y/n turned her attention back to the boy in front of her, shifting her weight back and forth. 
“What do you want, Steve?” she asked, confused at what he had to say to her. 
“Listen, I just-“ he paused, trying to find the right words to say. “I don’t like you like that.”
She scoffed. “Excuse me?”
“I mean, Nance and I just broke up and I’m not looking to get into anything serious. And for your information, I do not always take the last slice of pizza. But, you wouldn’t know that cause we haven’t hung out since middle school. Unless you count fighting inter-dimensional monsters.”
“No, I mean why are you telling me this-“ She froze mid-sentence, looking down at his hand. He was gripping a letter - her letter, the one she wrote to him so many years ago when her crush got too overwhelming. “Where -where did you get that?”
He looked down at the letter. “It came in the mail yesterday… also, I didn’t mean to steal your first kiss. I mean, it was mine too and I thought it was like okay since it was a game-“
“Don’t worry about it-“ She didn’t let him finish snatching the letter from his hand. He looked up at her shocked. “It’s all in the past.”
He tried to call out to her as she ran past him, making a b-line to the girls locker room. It wasn’t until she was sat inside that she gave herself a moment to take it all in. Steve had her note, her note. Why did he have it? Who sent it out because it certainly wasn’t her. And steal her first kiss? She couldn’t even remember what she wrote. 
Taking the letter out, she began to read:
Steve Harrington,
I refuse to call you just "Harrington" because it sounds cooler and you know it. There is something so smug about you that it makes everyone fall in love with you, even me. 
Did you know that after you kissed me I had a crush on you? You’re tall now, taller than everyone but even back then when you were short, people didn’t care. That was - still is the effect you have on people and it worked on me. 
But you probably knew that right? Because everyone is in love with Steve Harrington. Well, I’m not - or at least I’m not anymore. 
So here are some of your worst qualities, ones I used to convince myself you were merely a passing thought:
You snore. How do I know that? One time I slept at your house after Jonathan Byers' birthday party. I stayed up all night because of how loud you were and I never forgot that. 
You always take the last slice of pizza. Never asking if anyone else wants it, just taking. And I think that’s rude. 
It’s like how you took my first kiss. I wanted it to be with someone special, someone that bore their heart to me and I the same. But instead, you came along with that stupid bottle and that stupid game. You stole the one thing I was looking forward to most about growing up - Love. 
You had my love for a while, most of seventh and eight grade. But then Tommy and Carol came along, you became a douche bag, and our friend group split up - all because of you.
You were the glue that held together our group did you know that? You’re charm, your presence… After you left, none of us hung out again but no one cared. Because you’re Steve Harrington and no one can stay mad at Steve Harrington. No one can resist falling in love with Steve Harrington. 
Well I can. I can happily say I am immune to you Steve. For the first time in my life I can say that your Harrington charm will never work on me again. 
Y/n Hopper 
Did she really write all that? It sounds like she’s obsessed with him - but then again she remembered how intense that crush was. For weeks she couldn’t even bare to look at him…
Wait.
If Steve got a letter did that mean that the others were out too? School couldn't wait, she needed to get home now. With a totaled car and a dad that was still working, Y/n opted to run home. She ran and ran until she could see her street. She ran until she was inside crouching under bed for her shoe box - the shoe box that was now gone. 
Standing up, she went ballistic. She teared at every corner, every inch of her room in search for that box but it was no where to be found. Sighing, she sat on her floor in defeat. She pulled her knees to her chest and closed her eyes, wishing that it was a nightmare. That all those letters weren’t sent out. But as her eyes fluttered back open, she was still on her floor; letters delivered to all the boys she loved before. 
🖊️🖊️🖊️
Y/n's new plan was to avoid Billy Hargrove. It seemed easy enough at first, until she got out of her dad car and he was standing in front of the school. Wishing her dad at good day at work, she rushed to the side entrance of the school. It wasn't until Robin spotted her that she looked up.
“Woah, Y/n,” Robin called out. “Are you okay? You look flushed.”
“I’m fine,” she replied plainly. “Not feeling to great uh, I have to get some stuff from my locker I’ll see you in class!”
She walked away without waiting for a response finally sighing as her locker door opened. She stuck her face inside as she took a deep breath. She didn’t have any classes with him so she should be okay until lunch. Just get to lunch and everything would be okay. 
Feeling well enough to head to class, she shut her locker door. Standing behind it was Billy Hargrove. She yelped in surprise, almost dropping a textbook. Looked like there was no avoiding him now.
He was leaning against the lockers, playing the her letter in his hands. Smirking, he looked up at her. 
“You love me, Hopper?” he asked in a playful tone. Even though it was upbeat she could sense the condensing tone beneath it. 
“Billy-“
He interrupted her. “I mean, we hookup once and I get a love letter? It’s pathetic. I mean, sweet but, still pathetic.”
“I wrote that a while ago you were never meant to see it.” She reached out to grab the letter but he pulled back to quickly.
“Woah, there sweetheart. I think I'll hold on to this. This is something the people need to see!"
Y/n felt her heart drop in her chest. He was going to release the letter? Letter everyone know that she once loved him? It was bad enough Billy saw the love letter she wrote but the entire school? It was too embarrassing. 
“I-I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Y/n said, forcing herself to hold her head high. Was confidence was the way to shut him down?
Billy met her gaze, straightening up to meet her an inch from her own face. “And why would that be?”
“Because…” She had to think of something anything to get him off her back. “My boyfriend wouldn’t like that so much,” she blurted out.
Billy’s gaze faltered as he took a step back. “You’re boyfriend.”
“Yeah, I mean, wouldn’t want to get beat up over an old letter right?” she said, crossing her arms. She tried hiding the cracks in her voice, keeps a calm composure and begging he bought it - it looked like he kind of did.
“And who is this mystery boyfriend I should be so afraid of?"
Y/n didn’t know what to do. She frantically looked around the halls for someone. Anyone she could pull aside to get Billy off her back. There was one person, no, she couldn’t. But then again it might have been her only choice.
Without thinking it through anymore, Y/n grabbed hold of Steve Harrington's shirt. She yanked him to her and planted a kiss on his lips. The force of her pull made them stumble back into her locker.  He put his hands on either side to break his fall, leaning into the kiss more. 
Slowly, she pulled away. Opening her eyes, she hoped that his would remain close but they weren’t. They were staring down at her wide-eyed, wondering why in the world this was happening. 
Y/n looked over to see Billy scoffing. He turned, stomping down the hall away from them, the grip on her letter a little tighter than before. She felt a small wave of relief wash over her, until she remembered who she dragged into this mess. 
Steve was still in shock as Y/n pushed him back, wiping her lips and avoiding his gaze. He went to open his mouth but she beat him to it. 
“Thanks!” she exclaimed before walking off, giving him no further explanation. 
Well, that was one way to get Billy Hargrove off your back. 
🖊️🖊️🖊️
It wasn’t until lunch rolled around that Y/n's heart finally returned to a steady pace. Holy shit, she kissed Steve Harrington. 
It wasn’t the first time of course, but now both of them had some experienced. Was it bad that she kind of liked it? No, she shouldn’t think about that, but, it didn’t hurt to go find him. After all, she did jump him in the hall. 
Both of them had gym next but Y/n found herself unable to focus on whatever sport they were playing this week. Making up and excuse of "menstrual problems," she headed for the girls locker room. 
It was going to be empty and she need time to think. What do you say to your former friend after sending a love letter and kissing them?
Hey, sorry you’re a douche bag but a bigger douche bag is gonna expose me in front of the school.
No, that was right. She had to think of something quick as the door opened, girls walking back in to change into normal clothes. 
She opted to wait for him outside the boys locker room and lucky for her, he was the last one to come out. Better last than first - she did not want to have this conversation with people around. As the hall emptied and Steve emerged, she was quick to catch his gaze. 
“Oh no,” he started, deciding to take on a playful tone. “Should I cover my mouth?”
Rolling her eyes, she lightly hit his arm. “Oh my god- I’m sorry about that.”
“Does you kissing me have anything to do with the letter? Cause I already told you I'm not into you that way. Nance and I just broke up-“
“No,” she interrupted him. “I mean, it does have to do with the letters but- just- I don’t like you like that either.”
“Wait letters? Plural?”
Y/n hid her face in her hands, trying to think of the best way to explain her situation. “I use to write letters to get my feelings out okay? I had no intention of every sending that to you.”
He nodded, taking in what she said. “So who were the other letters to?”
“What?”
“Well you obviously kissed me to get away from one of them. So, who was it?” Y/n felt herself stumbling over her words. She didn’t owe him anymore than an apology. “Hopper?”
“If I tell you will you get off my back?”
“Maybe,” he said with a smirk, leaning against a locker. 
“Fine, Billy Hargrove.”
Steve stood back up straight as the name left her mouth. “Hargrove? Really?”
“We hooked up a while ago and-“
“You hooked up with the guy?!”
“It wasn’t my proudest moment!” she protested, feeling the urge to defend herself. “I wrote him a letter and he threatened to show the entire school so I told him I had a boyfriend that wouldn’t like that. You happened to be walking down the hall and I knew he wouldn’t mess with you after what happened at the Byer’s with Max…” 
She could see a ping of jealousy when she mention Jonathan’s last name. Maybe he wasn’t too fond over Nancy’s new boyfriend - despite all of them being friends at one point. 
“I’m sorry,” she apologized again.
“No, it’s okay. I get it, Hargrove’s a prick.”
“Yeah…” Silence took over the conversation and Y/n didn’t want anything else to do with him. 
“What are you gonna tell him now?”
Y/n looked up at him confused. What else could she tell Billy but he wasn’t her boyfriend?  It seemed like a stupid question. 
“I don’t know, I’ll make something up…”
She waved one last goodbye to Steve before taking off, wanting to be done with the conversation.
🖊️🖊️🖊️
Y/n had almost gone the rest of the day without thinking of Steve Harrington. That was, until her best friend reminded her of what had happened. 
She picked up the phone with a simple, “Hello?”
“Did you really kiss Steve Harrington?” Robin asked on the other side of the line, not bothering for formalities. 
Y/n looked back at Eleven and Mike Wheeler who were sitting watching a movie on the couch. She hoped they couldn’t hear her friend through the phone. 
“Yeah, I did,” she responded simply.
“Oh my god why?”
Robin didn’t know about the letters, nor did Y/n want her to. “It was a heat of the moment thing,” she replied, opting not to confess the real reason. Thankfully, the door sounded before her friend could reply. “I gotta go Mrs. Wheeler is here to pick up Mike.”
“Wait but-“
“I’ll see you at school!”
She hung up the phone, fixing her hair for a moment before answering the door. It always took a long time for Mike to actually leave their house but she was thankful that he was out quick this time. 
Falling back on her bed, she heard a subtle knock against her open door. She looked up, using her arms as support from behind her.
“What’s up El?” she asked her sister hovering in the doorway.
El shook her head. “Nothing.”
She sat up fully now, wondering what was wrong with her sister. “Well, it can’t be nothing. C’mon, what’s wrong.”
“Nothing's wrong. I just…. I’ve been thinking.”
Y/n raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been thinking…about what?”
El paused her a moment, looking down at the floor as she tried to find the right words. “I have Mike,” she began. “And I love him. I love spending time with him, watching movies…why don’t you have someone?”
“Where’s this coming from?” Y/n asked confused. Since when did her sister care about her love life?
Eleven walked into her room, taking a seat next to her on the bed. “You’re always at home. Babysitting.”
“I hang out with Robin.”
“That’s one person. You need someone. Someone like Mike to make you happy.”
“A boyfriend?” El nodded. “I don’t need a boyfriend hun, I’m perfectly happy here with you…go get ready for bed, dad will be home soon.”
El gave a weak nod before going off to do her night routine. Sighing, Y/n let herself fall back on her bed once more. Maybe El was right. Maybe she did need someone in her life that wasn’t family or a best friend. Maybe if she had a boyfriend, she wouldn’t have kissed Steve, and Billy wouldn’t be a pain in her ass…
🖊️🖊️🖊️
Y/n was thankful she checked the mail before leaving. Two of the letters that got out were sitting on the counter - a "return to sender" label stamped over them. A tiny weight felt like it was taken off her chest. 
There were three now. Three people received letters and that seemed more manageable than five.
With her sprit up a little more than yesterday, she was quickly reminded of the situation she was in. She cursed herself for not seeing Billy Hargrove as he strutted up to her in the library. She jumped back in surprise when he approached her. 
“Hey sweet cheeks,” he smirked, leaning against the shelf she was looking at.
She rolled her eyes. “What do you want?”
“Just wondering how things were going with Harrington.”
Shit. He was testing her, calling her on her bullshit. She couldn’t say they were still together and it felt like she had no other option than to tell the truth. 
“Not to good,” she admitted. “We broke up, he’s still in love with Nancy Wheeler.”
“Really? Cause I saw Harrington earlier at basketball and he said he really liked you. Blushed even.”
That caught her off guard. “What?”
“Who knew you would have the former King of Hawkins High drooling over you. I gotta admit Hopper, I was shocked - didn’t know you were his type.”
Why would he say that? What game was he playing?
“I gotta go I actually planned to meet him before first period,” she mumbled out, walking away from him.
She didn’t have plans of course, but as the first bell rang, she knew that she would have to face him. Steve sat a few rows over from her in Chemistry so passing a note to him felt like the best approach. 
Why did you tell Billy we were dating? She wrote on a ripped off piece of paper, sliding it over to him.
She watched as he furrowed his brows. It was clear his mind was racing but she couldn’t quite get a read on him. After a few moments, he scribbled something and tossed the paper back.
Stay behind after class. 
Looking up at him, she caught his eyes for only a moment before turning back to the board. Y/n couldn’t focus on anything for the rest of class, trying to sneak glances over at him. 
What was he thinking? What plan was he concocting in his head? She raced over to him as the bell rang, students filing out of the classroom for lunch. 
“So?” she asked, not wanting to wait any longer. 
Steve looked around the room as he slung his bag over his shoulder. “Wanna go for a walk?”
Nodding, she followed him. They trekked out to the field that laid between the running track and the school. She figured they were taking the long way to get to the parking lot. 
“Are we gonna talk about it now or continue to walk in silence?” she asked. 
“Let me- just give me a minute,” he replied, staring down at the grass beneath them. It only took a moment more before he continued. “You don’t deserve Billy’s wrath for a few old letters you wrote.”
“I already told him we broke up though, that you’re still in love with Nancy.”
He whipped his head toward her. “What? I’m not still in love with Nance.” She raised an eyebrow in skepticism. “Our breakup was mutual.” 
“Sure,” she said sarcastically. “Everyone knows that you’ll be back together in no time. Especially because you were her first time.”
“How do you know that?”
“Ex friends talk, especially when you call them assholes.”
“Shit,” he cursed to himself. “Tommy and Carol?”
Y/n nodded. “They blabbed to the whole school the weekend after you ditched them."
Finally reaching the parking lot, Y/n could see Steve’s car a few feet away. Where was this conversation going to go?
“What if we let people, Billy and Nance included, think we’re dating?” he asked, reaching to unlock the door to his car.
Y/n stopped behind him confused. “What? Why would we do that?”
“Cause Billy’s made it clear he’ll go photo copy that letter and spread it around the minute he knows I won’t kick his ass.”
“Okay… but what’s in it for you? You wouldn’t be doing this out of the kindness of your heart would you?”
She asked the question, knowing the answer already. Steve Harrington was never the type to do something without it benefiting him. 
He rolled his eyes and answered, “Okay so maybe the breakup wasn’t mutual.” He looked up from the car, meeting her gaze. “If she thinks we’re together it will send a message to Nancy that I’ve moved on.”
Y/n crossed her arms. “I don’t like you like that, Steve.”
“That’s the point. We don’t actually have to date, just make people think we are.”
“I don’t know…” she said hesitantly. She didn’t want to be his real or fake girlfriend - it all seemed just a little too weird.
“I mean,” he started, leaning against the open car door. “Billy definitely thought we were together at basketball this morning. I could see his stupid face getting red.”
Y/n gritted her teeth. He was right, why did he have to be right? She had less than a year left at Hawkins High, why have Billy make it miserable?
Reaching out her hand, she said, “Alright, Steve. You’ve got yourself a deal."
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Series Taglist: @sigh-mon-says @johnricharddeacy @totally-bogus-timelady @in-this-minute @steveharringtonisfit @dukesmebby @pricelessemotion
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gaysindistress · 10 months
Text
When Night Comes - ten
Summary: Who would win in a staring contest? New York’s resident mob boss and master of the side eye Bucky Barnes or the daycare teacher who really wants to go home and smoke?
pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader
warnings: mob!Bucky, cursing, major character death mentions
word count: 2.3k
nine | masterlist
Tag list: @vickie5446 @cakesandtom @thebuckybarnesvault @buckybarnessimpp @hidden-treasures21​ @unaxv​​ @thebuckybarnesvault @elizacusi-blog @mal-adaptive-dreams @vonalyn
disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest
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Wyatt, the sweet boy, is playing with her mother’s hand when the car pulls up to the jet. Peggy slides her phone into her pocket as Steve puts it in park and rushes to engulf them in a hug. Too close of a call is how he might describe the events at Sunny’s apartment. When Sunny gets out, Wyatt wiggles out of his parent’s arms and tackles her with the strongest hug he can muster. 
“Ms. Sunny, Mommy said you were coming with us on a trip!” She forces a smile when she confirms, “It’s going to be so much fun, bubby.”
Bucky walks behind her and gently grabs ahold of her arm to walk her toward the jet. For the sake of Wyatt, she doesn’t try to pull her arm away and lets him guide her. The boy runs back to his parents and they all climb the stairs to the jet. Yelena is the last one to board with a redhead woman in tow. They’re talking to each other in hushed tones and grow even quieter when they see that Sunny is watching them through hooded eyes. 
Bucky leads her to the seat towards the back and sits next to her. Yelena and the other woman sit across from them while the Rogers take their seats in front. Wyatt tries to get a look at all of them but is quickly buckled up by his mother. 
“Any word on Alix’s whereabouts?” Bucky asks the two women.
The redhead speaks, “She got into a car with Juliette and head east but after four miles, we lose sight of them. All of their known hideouts within a 20-mile radius are clear but Wanda and Peter are still searching.”
“And Jessica?”
She grimaces at the name, “DOA.”
Sunny chokes and covers her mouth so that the sobs are muffled. Wyatt asks Peggy why she’s crying but she quiets hum. Yelena gives her a sad look and goes to offer her hand which the redhead blocks with a shake of her head. Bucky is closest to her and therefore should be the one to comfort her. He takes her free hand in his and gives it a light squeeze. Rather than dropping it like he expected, Sunny grips it back and turns to face the window. 
Her brother laying dead in her arms flashes across her mind and she snaps her eyes shut to will away the painful memories but it doesn’t work. The sirens and EMT chatter fill her senses as she processes that her best friend was not only working with her ex but is now dead. Sunny didn’t even get a chance to come to terms with the betrayal but it doesn’t matter because Jessica’s gone now. The one constant in her life since leaving California no matter how fake it was, is gone now and she’s left with a team of supernatural creatures to protect her. Any shred of hope for normalcy is gone now and the lack of warmth in Bucky’s hand is too harsh of a reminder of that but she can’t let it go. Even if he is the last person she would want to support her, he’s all she has now. 
“Yelena,” the redhead, Natasha,  says to Yelena, and jerks her head to the side, “Let’s give them space.”
She agrees and they move to join the Rogers. The jet begins its take-off sequence and Sunny continues to grip Bucky’s hand while watching her life disappear once again. 
Fresno to New York and now to Bucharest. 
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Tall grand buildings line the narrow roadways and echo the history that the city has seen. The moon shrouds the city in an ominous light as a few people scurry to get inside before midnight. Only a brave handful wait for the old black car slowly cruising down the cobblestone road and whisper amongst themselves. As the years have passed fewer and fewer people know who this car belongs to but the elders are still painfully aware of its owners. When the driver makes eye contact with the brave onlookers, they give a brief nod and rush inside. 
Sunny had yet to speak and refused to look away from the window to watch the city around her. She’s not holding Bucky’s hand anymore but is practically glued to his side. He, Yelena, Natasha, and Steve are all speaking to each other in another language, no doubt talking about Alix and her whereabouts. 
“Unde naiba ar fi putut să plece?” Where the fuck could she have gone? Bucky says in a low tone, gripping his hands together tightly to calm himself. 
“Crezi că știe unde suntem?” Do you think she knows where we’re at? Natasha offers up. 
Peggy twitches at the thought and shudders but not for the same reason as the others. 
“Cum a putut?” How could she?
“You can speak in English. I already know what you’re talking about,” Sunny mumbles still facing the window. 
Bucky glances over at her before switching back, “Are you sure? I don’t want to upset you.” 
“It’s not like I can’t figure it out from your tones.” 
“I think we’re done talking anyways,” Natasha says, pulling out her phone and typing away. 
Bucky shoots her a harsh look, “We can’t find Alix but we’re safe here. Lycan is banned from Romania so it would be a death sentence if she even tried to come here.” 
“As if that’s stopped her before,” Sunny says in her normal tone now turning to look at Bucky, “you said I would be safe in New York but  Jessica is dead and I’m in Europe against my will.  Can you call that being safe?” 
“I didn’t kidnap you.” 
“That’s what you focus on? Me accusing you of kidnapping me?”
“Well, I didn't so.” 
“Be so fucking for real right now.” 
He gives her a blank unamused stare in place of words. 
She scoffs and rolls her eyes which causes him to do the exact same. The tension grows thick and the only person immune is Wyatt who is fast asleep on his mom’s lap with his head resting on her shoulder. Steve looks back at Bucky to judge his emotional state but the blank look he has pulled across his face gives no indication of what he is feeling. The only thing Steve can gather is that he’s not pissed off enough to lose his cool but that point is coming very quickly. 
“Do me a favor and leave me alone from now on. I’m sick of your shit,” Sunny tells the man who’s been plaguing her every thought for months now. She wants in reality; she wants him in her life and to act like how did at the kickback turned party but she also knows that Bucky is a ghost now. The flirty and carefree Bucky she started to fall for disappeared almost as quickly as he appeared, a thought that tugged at her heart and threatens her emotional state. 
“Fine by me,” he agrees with a level of childishness that makes her want to scoff even more. The large, imposing man is not immune to the pettiness that everyone craves to act on. 
Wyatt makes a small noise akin to a whimper and everyone jumps into protective mode. Peggy shushes him and gently rocks him back to sleep, easing everyone in the car’s worries. Sunny crosses her arms over her chest and looks back to the landscape outside. She might have once been excited to visit Europe but not in this context with these people. A bittersweet memory this will be. 
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Peggy quickly puts Wyatt in a bed and checks that he is still asleep as she dials Alix’s number. She gives the room a once over before talking to a very angry Alix. 
“Margaret tell me what’s going on?”
Peggy nervously looks over at her sleeping son, “I’m done. I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“No no, you don’t get to do this to me. Don’t back out now. Remember you wanted this. You FOUND me and asked for my help.”
“You didn’t tell me about Y/N so I think our deal should be called off. You withheld information from me.”
“Says the one who asked me to kill your husband’s best friend. How do you think Steve would feel if he found out?”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“Really? I think I would,” there’s a pause, “Did you get that witch to hex his gun?”
“Yes but…” “But nothing. Get him to shoot it and follow through with the plan like a good little bitch. It shouldn’t be that hard, he’s a mob boss anyways.”
There’s a click and the dial tone replaces Alix’s voice. Peggy wants to scream and shatter her phone but the sleeping child only feet from her stops her. Instead, she sinks to sit next to him and lays behind him. Cuddling her son, she starts to cry. The years of unhappiness take over and she lets all of her tears flow. She had met Steve in the 40s when she was visiting New York after she graduated high school. Immediately enthralled with his sweet smile and gentle ways, she spent those three weeks running around the city with him. He showed her everything she’d wanted; freedom and unconditional love but it came with a cost. She would have to leave her life behind and join him and Bucky in their business. At the time, she had been blinded by the winds of her first loved and agreed before fully understanding what his conditions meant for her. Peggy refused to go back to England and married Steve the day she was supposed to leave. He swept her off of her feet and brought her to the house they are in now, the Bucharest estate. Then is when she learned the full story of who Steve was and who Bucky was for that matter. She had been horrified and rightfully so. Steve hadn’t told her about their illegal business or their true nature and it came as a massive shock to her system. The only person who provided comfort was Bucky’s wife, Celeste. 
Celeste had been with them since they turned 100 years prior. She had been a vision of heaven and a spitting image of Y/N. The two women were identical down to their smile and laugh. Celeste told Peggy stories of how she fought Bucky for years before finally agreeing to marry him when their love began to blossom. When it came time for Peggy’s turning, Celeste had been right by her side the entire time and walked her through every step of the way. The day Bucky found her body in the river nearby in New York, his screams of agony could be heard for miles. A rival mob had gotten to her and done unspeakable things to her. Peggy felt like it was her fault because the two women had vowed to each other that they would protect each other when their husbands were gone. She had failed Celeste, something Bucky never forgave her for, and ever since, he had given her the cold shoulder. Peggy couldn't take it anymore and turned to the very mob that had taken Celeste to now take out Bucky. 
It had been Alix’s great-grandparents who had murdered Celeste so it only seemed fitting that she be the one now to end Bucky’s life. The emergence of Y/N had complicated things seeing as how much he had changed since meeting her but the plan was too far gone and she couldn’t stop it. 
Peggy had already hammered the final nail in Bucky’s coffin with no way to open it. 
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The only remaining picture of his bride had been locked away in his room shortly after she’d died. In his grief, he had all of her pictures and belongings put into her study, permanently locking away any memory of her. One small portrait from their wedding day remained on his bedside table and he all but refused to look at it. Only Steve and Peggy knew of her and what she looked like however that didn’t stop him from pursuing Sunny. Bucky knew it was wrong; chasing after a lookalike in hopes that she would match his Celeste. Imagine his surprise and joy when Sunny did mirror her in every way down to how she pushed him away at first. 
Trying to replicate what they had would not end well for him but he had been assured by witches that Celeste would return to him and here she was. Bucky watches the doppelganger… Sunny walked down the halls of their home, head moving quickly back and forth to take in all that she must have missed. It had been just shy of 80 years since she had been home and he could only imagine the yearning her heart must have been feeling. His heart has ached nonstop since her death and now that she stood only feet from him, it began to slow to a dull throb. Sunny did not love him in the way Celeste had but she would or at least that’s the hope he clung to after all these years. It’s the only option and he would do anything to ensure that she found that love he knew she had for him. 
I love you. Always and forever. 
That had been their promise to each other. Sunny would learn that phrase too and soon would echo it back when he held her at night. 
Just not right now. 
So with a heavy heart, Bucky seals away her feelings and hopes she has the chance to find her way to him. She had to do it on her own without his influence or it wouldn't be true as the witch told him. Sunny’s hand itch to touch the paintings that line the walls and she looks over her shoulder at him in amazement. It crushes him to see the same look that she had when they picked out those paintings but nonetheless, he offers her a half smile and turns his attention anywhere else. 
Always and forever needed to come sooner. 
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