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alrightieaphroditie · 2 years

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take the edge off | e.m. series masterlist! | next part!

pairing *:･ﾟ eddie munson x female! reader wc *:･ﾟ 3.7 k warnings *:･ﾟ mentions of drugs (weed) and talk of events that happened in s3! an *:･ﾟ ahh i have officially written my first fanfic ever!! this is very exciting for me but also makes me kinda nervous, hehe. i hope this leads to me writing many more, though, bc this shit is lowkey therapeutic. anyways, this is kind of unedited, so if any major errors jump out at you while you're reading, please let me know so that i can fix it! this is like a soft!eddie type fic bc i was just in the mood for it last night! i appreciate any and all feedback!

synopsis *:･ﾟyou're exhausted, feeling burnt out, and your neighbor won't stop practicing guitar with his amp turned as loudly as possible. you need a pick-me up, and eddie munson has just the thing.

you were desperate. at least, that seemed to be the only logical explanation you could think of as to why you were walking across the graveled road towards eddie munson's trailer late at night in your pajamas.

of course, if anyone asked max why you went over in the first place, she'd tell them that you were just asking eddie to turn down his amp. munson was notorious for practicing his guitar late at night, and most nights you and max didn't mind the background noise. in fact, on the nights where max couldn't sleep, the nights where she would cling to you while you both sat on the couch. you comfort her as much as you can while wiping her tears and running your hand through her hair softly, and you appreciated the noise then. you created a game for those nights, telling max to close her eyes, to listen to the chords he struck loudly, and guess which song he had decided that he needed to learn that week. it seemed to calm her enough, and you always made her laugh when you suggested that eddie was finally learning a david bowie song.

as if.

but tonight was not one of those nights. tonight, you had worked two shifts at the family video in town (somehow keith hired you even though your top three movies were breakfast at tiffany's, the aristocats, and the dark crystal) and then went straight to the police station, where you were helping flo sort through files and answering phone calls. max was sitting at the table in the kitchen area when you got home, multiple books and notebooks flung about the small space. the table was where the two of you had spent the last few hours as you tried helping max study for her biology exam at the end of the week. you could tell she was seconds way from ripping her hair out of her head, and you, well you were barely hanging on yourself.

working two jobs in hawkins while living at a trailer park was not what you had envisioned for yourself when you moved out a year ago to attend college. you lasted two semesters, came back home to visit your family, and then your world turned upside down. literally. a few weeks after getting settled at your old house, max confided in you that she was worried about billy. she wouldn't exactly tell you why, but you promised you'd try talking to him. you never truly cared for your stepbrother, but max, for whatever reason, had a very small soft spot in her heart for him, and you wanted to take care of your sister. he was the same asshole he'd always been when you spoke to him the next day, slamming the door in your face as he walked away in his red swim shorts and white tank top. you thought nothing more of it.

it wasn't until you got home late one night from being with your friends when you saw billy carrying bag after bag of ice to his bedroom. he looked feverish, but despite your questions, he insisted that he was fine. later that night, max ran into your bedroom, shaking and panting. she'd had a nightmare, and this was when she finally gave in and confessed to you some of the events that had happened the previous year. you learned all about eleven, a girl who had some kind of power, and the truth about what went down at the hawkins lab. it was only a matter of time before you were recruited by max's friends, and you were one of the few who knew the truth of what happened at the starcourt mall. one of the few inside the mall when the mind flayer attacked.

max had been immediately affected by the events of the night, by billy's death. she had shut down, became a shell of the person she used to be. every now and then you'd catch a glimpse of the girl she used to be, but it disappeared just as quickly as you caught it. you, on the other hand, had responded to things a little differently. after billy's death, his father left your mother. not officially declaring a divorce, but there wasn't much hope for the marriage if one spouse was in california while the other was in indiana. your mom struggled to keep her job, turning to drinking to cope with the loss of a stepson and her husband, almost forgetting that she still had two daughters to care for. you knew you couldn't go back to college after this, and so you withdrew, moved back home, and have been helping keep things afloat as much as you could. you needed to be the person max could rely on during these times, and so you kept your emotions and struggles to yourself.

usually, that wasn't an issue. you had become one of reefer rick's most reliable customers, seeking him out to buy weed whenever you could spare some of your hard-earned money. that solution worked for about half a year, and then rick got busted by the cops. you had run out of your stash a few weeks ago and were starting to see the results of not being able to smoke. your thoughts wouldn't stop running a mile a minute, and every time you closed your eyes, you saw billy. you got cranky, becoming irritated more easily, and a perpetual migraine sat at the back of your head.

on this night in particular, you had already snapped at a guest when they tried convincing you to let them take home another movie even though they already had the max out, and you shouted at officer callahan when he accidently dumped your cup of coffee out in the sink because he thought you were done with it. all you wanted to do was lay in bed and cry, but when you saw max at the table, you knew that wasn't happening any time soon. and then eddie freaking munson started to play his damn guitar when it was almost the middle of the night.

a soft march breeze flittered throughout the night, and you wrapped your oversized brown flannel around your middle as you stepped through the grass to the few stairs leading up to eddie's door. it was then that you immediately regretted coming out, only for the fact that you were wearing a tank top and shorts under the flannel. you almost turned around and went back to max, but as you started down the stairs, eddie struck a chord that made your head throb, and that was that.

"munson!" you shouted, banging a fist on the trailer door a few times. you shifted your weight, holding your flannel closed with one hand as you waited a moment before starting to knock again. "eddie!"

the incessant noise abruptly stopped and, feeling satisfied with yourself, you started to march down the wooden stairs, thinking about making some hot chocolate for you and max. you had just reached the grass when you heard the door to the trailer fling open, causing you to spin around. in the doorway stood eddie munson, wearing a white t-shirt and pair of red plaid pajama pants, leaning forward a bit as he held open the screen door. his big brown eyes found yours immediately, and you watched as a cheshire cat grin spread across his face.

"well, well, well. if it isn't miss mayfield standing at the edge of my humble abode. to what do i owe the pleasure?" he asked, moving forward on the small landing. he leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at you, the grin never leaving his face. despite the breeze, you felt your face heat with a blush.

eddie munson was no stranger to you. namely, he had quite the reputation of being a freak, what with his heavy metal band corroded coffin and his supposed satan-worshipping hellfire club. you knew the later was a nothing more than a stupid fear, though, as max's friends were all involved in the club. every time you worked with steve harrington at family video, you were subjected to listening to dustin henderson speak nothing but praises for eddie himself. and you trusted dustin, had no reason to believe otherwise. you had also gone to school with eddie, though you weren't really sure he remembered that fact. he was supposed to have graduated before you, and then with you, and now, after you. you'd even had a few classes together, but you knew he spent more time not being in class than he ever did in it, so you honestly didn't really expect him to know you. even these last few months that you've lived across from him, you've never interacted with one another. just some stolen glimpses when you're arriving home and he's leaving, or vice versa.

you must admit that you did foster a bit of a crush for him when you were in the same grade, and now, with him standing above you, gazing down at you with his brown eyes, you were starting to remember exactly why you felt that way. clearing your throat, you copied his pose, crossing your arms across your chest. "i was just coming over to ask you to turn down your amp a bit, please. max has had a rough day." you weren't completely lying to him. you really did need him to quiet down otherwise you were worried your head might genuinely explode from the migraine. however, you also knew from rick that eddie also dabbled in selling drugs, and again...you were desperate.

he studied you for a moment, the sounds of crickets chirping filling the silence, before pushing himself off the doorway. he gripped the railing of the landing between his hands, leaning forward slightly, and in the glow of the streetlights you could see the silver metal of the rings adorning his fingers. "ah, max is the one having a rough day, yeah? is that why you look like you're five seconds away from bursting into tears on my lawn?" he drawled out, cocking his head to the side as he questioned you. his accusation caused your eyes to widen, and you forced yourself to take a few deep breaths. you were not about to lose your cool in front of eddie munson.

"let's just say we've both had a rough day, then. i'm trying to help her study for her biology exam and she can't focus with all the noise coming from here." you state, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. eddie's eyes squinted down at you, and you could see his nose scrunch as he scoffs at you.

"it's not just noise, mayfield. it's music. i'm not surprised you don't know the difference, though, considering all you do is blast bowie and fleetwood mac." you can tell by his voice that he was irritated, and you almost have to stifle a laugh. he's shaking his head slightly, his wavy hair falling around his shoulders. he sees your grin, though, and he pauses. "is something funny?" he asks, moving one of his hands up to grab a piece of his hair and twirling it in front of his face.

"you can't diss stevie nicks, eddie. that's, like, sacrilegious," you tease, your grin growing a little wider as you speak. you've always known how passionate eddie was for his music, and that was honestly something you respected him for. he wasn't afraid to simply be himself, even if this town hated him for it. eddie munson wasn't a freak, he just had unique interests that made him stand out. and in hawkins, standing out was the last thing anyone wanted to do.

eddie continues to twirl his hair around his finger for a moment before throwing his hands out wide. "oh, haven't you heard? i'm a devil worshipper, y/n. being sacrilegious is the least of my worries," he declares, taking a few dramatic steps down the stairs. he stops when he's in front of you, and you realize how much taller he is as you tilt your head back slightly to maintain eye contact. your fingers fiddle nervously with the buttons on your flannel, but you don't back down.

"devil worshipper or not, it's very childlike of you to be judging others for their taste in music just because it doesn't match your own. i'm not hating on you for playing metallica at all hours of the night, just simply asking you to turn it down a notch." you reply, suddenly wondering how the conversation strayed this way. and how he knew what music you liked to listen to. this was a mistake, you thought, maybe i should just take a bath instead of smoke tonight. with that decided, you gave eddie a small wave before starting to back trek to your trailer.

"you could tell that i was playing metallica tonight?" eddie called out at you from behind suddenly. with a sigh, you turned back around, catching him looking at you with an eyebrow raised. you couldn't help but roll your eyes. "yes, munson, i could tell it was metallica. it's their newest song, right?" you asked, putting your hands on your hips as you stood in the middle of the gravel road. you could tell that your response shocked eddie, and it made you smile. "i don't just listen to bowie and fleetwood mac, hon."

those big brown eyes of his widened, and suddenly a smile lit up his face. "there are layers to you, mayfield. i like it," he whispered while pointing a finger at you. "you know, i've actually heard a lot about you, my lady. especially from my dear friend, rick." his grin grew even bigger with his last remark, and it was your turn to look at him with a raised eyebrow. you couldn't fathom why rick would talk about you to anyone, least of all eddie munson. it wasn't like rick knew everything there was to know about you, but sometimes he would let you try out a new strain of weed he had gotten, and you never could control what slipped from your mouth then. that's why you always preferred getting high in the comfort of your own bedroom.

"and are you planning on sharing what you've heard, or are you just trying to hang it over my head?" you asked, tilting your head to the side slightly. your hair fell down your face, and eddie's eyes trailed the movement, causing your face to flush as you pushed it back. he began pacing, occasionally glancing at you before leaning against the railing of the stairs, reaching behind him to hold on to the wood.

"i'm sure it's stuff you already know," he joked, winking at you as he laughed. when eddie laughs, his whole face lights up. his eyes get bright, his smile so wide that you can see the lines around his mouth curve. it's the type of reaction that makes you want to try to get him to laugh again, even if it's at your expense. you watch as he squats down, his plaid pants tightening around his thighs as he runs a finger through the grass in front of him.

"it's mostly just the basics, i guess. you dropped outta school, picked up two jobs, started being very motherly towards your dear sister. i can only imagine how stressed out you must be. makes a man wonder how you handle it all," he tilts his head up to look at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. you immediately understand the direction he's going with his, and it's enough to make you roll your eyes.

"eddie, if you're talking to reefer rick about me, i'm pretty sure you can imagine what i'm doing to handle my stress." your gaze is as heated as your tone, and he definitely picks up on that. he holds his hands up, frowning slightly.

"woah there, mayfield. i'm not accusing you of anything. we all need a little something now and then to take the edge off. your secret is safe with me," he tosses you another wink, and you push down the wave of butterflies it sends to your stomach. you really should be going back inside, back to max. she's probably wondering what's taking you so long. and yet for some reason, you can't seem to feel the urge to actually want to leave. surprisingly, you like talking to eddie. there's something about him that's so disarming, and there's a part of you that wants to sit on the grass next to him and talk to him until the sun rises.

you watch as he stands back up, wiping his hands off against his pants. "in fact," he continues, giving you a glance before moving to jump up the steps. "i think you could use a little something right now. you feelin' on the edge tonight, mayfield?" he asks, almost softly, gazing down at you with his big eyes. his tone is teasing, but his eyes show how genuine he is in asking that. how much he actually does care. it's his eyes that essentially bring down your walls, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around your middle and nodding slightly in response.

"just a bit," you whisper, feeling tears burn in your eyes suddenly. too many emotions were swelling up inside you, and you felt close to breaking down, which was an unexpected turn of events for you. usually, you're able to push down these feelings until max was asleep. you'd go through the motions of getting ready for bed, but instead of heading to your bedroom, you would escape outside and sit on the stairs leading up to your front door. you would cry until you simply couldn't, and then you'd tuck your knees up under your chin and hug yourself until you felt strong enough to go back inside. you always figured the night was the safest time do let go, the time when no one else would notice you breaking down. but the look in eddie's eyes have you wondering if you've had an audience some nights.

his gaze is soft, and he has the smallest of smiles on his face, more sympathetic than anything else. he holds up a finger, muttering "one second," before dipping back into his trailer. you use this time to blow out a loud sigh, wiping your eyes with the sleeves of your flannel and trying to make yourself seem like less of a mess. you can hear a few things being knocked over or dropped in the trailer, and you walk to the bottom of the stairs, concerned. "eddie?"

he bursts out of the door quickly, nearly tripping on the doorstep. his hair flies behind him as he gathers his balance. he makes his way towards the step in front of you, grinning, and when he's near you, he holds out his hand. you see a small baggie nestled in his palm, and the urge to grab it hits you hard, but you restrain yourself. in all your desperation, you forgot a key factor needed to make this a done deal - money. just yesterday you spent what you had left of your two paychecks on helping with the electric bill and getting groceries for the three of you. what little savings you had in your account was saved back for max, in case she needed anything.

looking up, you give eddie a small smile but start to shake your head. "i really appreciate the gesture, but i... i can't really afford to buy this right now. thank you, though." at your response, eddie simply laughs and reaches down to grab your wrist. he brings your hand up and drops the baggie into your own palm dramatically, curling his fingers over yours so that you’re holding it in your fist now. you watch him with furrowed eyebrows the entire time, confused.

"no charge, mayfield. knowing that i helped you get back from the edge is enough for me, alright?" he says quietly, still holding your hand within his own. the two of you stand like that, frozen in time, for a moment before his gaze lifts over your shoulder. a grin encompasses his face, and he turns his eyes back on you. "i'd ask if you wanted to come in, but it looks like someone is waiting for you back there." he nods his head in the direction of your trailer, and you turn your head to look, catching a glimpse of max in the window before the curtain closes quickly. you can't help but laugh, and when you turn back to eddie, his eyes are locked on your hand in his.

when he realizes you're looking at him, he clears his throat and drops his hand away, shoving both of his into the pockets of his flannel pants. the action makes you blush, and in a sudden act of bravery, you tilt up on your tiptoes, leaning forward to press a small kiss against eddie's cheek. "thank you, munson." the smell of smoke and his aftershave fills your nose as you pull away, and you start to back away slowly from the landing. eddie's head turns, and he blinks slowly, almost sleepily, and gives you one of his grins. you don't even bother trying to suppress the butterflies again.

"don't be a stranger, mayfield." he calls out at you as you make your way back to your trailer. when you reach your door, you turn back around, noticing that eddie was waiting for you to make it back. giving him a small wave, you finally head back inside, hiding the little baggie within your sleeve so that max wouldn't see it. when your door is shut, you lean against it, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

if being desperate meant having more interactions with eddie munson, maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to be after all.

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 6 months

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AAAAA i REALLY loved 'to the other side' !! i havent read much of your works (i'd like to read more when i have time, especially of rollo hehe) but WOW its so good 😭 the writing style (?) is very fun to read and its like every sentence has an impact on the fic (like it gets better with each sentence?)

the doctor diagnosis part was amusing too! i recently rewatched pinocchio bc of twst and it was a really fun scene to watch~ (this is. completely unrelated but i was surprised at just how many similarities there were between fellow and honest john like phrases or clothing details)

anyway! the point is that i really enjoyed the fic and as someone who is doing writing more (bc of school TT) i find you inspirational,, i also see some of ur other posts on my dash and reading your opinions and thoughts about things is very interesting!

that is all! thank you!

call me pinocchio the way fellow could effortlessly convince me to come to playful land idc if i get scammed he's SO fine-

[Referencing this fic!]

WEH 😭 I’m glad you liked To the Other Side so much!! I hope you get the chance to read my other stuff!! (I recently counted, and I’ve written over 2400 pieces, whether short interactions or long full-fledged fics, for TWST now…) The Rollo interactions have been some of my favorites to do, I’m very happy with those ^^

chisvsjekd You had fun reading the fic? 😌 Then Fellow’s UM must be working on you… Watch out, he’s gonna nab ya for Playful Land— When writing, I tried to capture the essence of crescendoing music from the songs The Greatest Show and The Other Side. They both start soft and progressively grow louder until BOOM there’s an explosion of sound and spectacle. I wanted my fic to invoke a similar feeling, even when it’s just the characters standing around and talking.

I actually haven’t gotten around to watching Disney’s Pinocchio in myself so I had ZERO context going in who Honest John and Gideon were. I referenced some clips of them on Youtube to help me visualize their mannerisms and then superimpose them over Fellow’s and Gidel’s. (It makes sense, given that Fellow and Gidel are twisted from those two!) That’s how I came across the diagnosis scene. I thought it fit so well with Rollo’s Forever Alone and Mad About It personality, so incorporating the diagnosis scene in was so easy to do!

Good luck with your own writing!! I hope you’ll continue to hang out here and enjoy reading my stuff in your free time.

Ah. Fellowife spotted 😂

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #Rollo Flamme #Fellow Honest #disney twst #Gidel #Gidell #Ferro Honest #notes from the writing raven #feedback for the writing raven #Honest John #Gideon #Pinocchio #The Greatest Showman #The Greatest Show #The Other Side

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sweetnsour1 · 2 years

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2:10

Fluff, Kaminari x g/n reader

It was a Tuesday. A normal regular as can fucking be Tuesday. And yet, there he was sprawled more than halfway across your living room. He moved down a bit for a better angle. His shirt shifted up, revealing muscles that were giving you…irregular weekday thoughts.

He hummed a song only he could hear. The wires he held in his mouth kept you from guessing which one. His hands disappeared somewhere into the depths of the media console, a smile signaling his long fingers had snapped something into place. You groaned and shifted, settling your back against the wall. No, this was an abnormal as can fucking be Tuesday.

“I like you.” The words left you without any resistance at all, sounding more like a sigh of relief than anything else. His answer was immediate.

“Yea, I totally like you too!” You frowned at the verbal reflex you’d triggered. Your eyes trailed over the slim body that showed no sign of tension or pause as he kept sorting through the nest of cords.

“No. I…like you.” This time he did pause. He shimmied down again before sitting up, careful to give his head clearance. The smooth movements were thwarted when he got yanked back down by a tangled wire.

“Yea…I…like…you…too.” His eyes stayed on the cords as he pawed at them, missing the way you grinned at his oddly feline entanglement. You shook your head, realizing he wasn’t gonna be able to decipher any hints, which really only left you with one option. You moved closer, waiting for him to free himself and sit up.

You reached out for a fistful of his favorite shirt. You wondered how many washes it had taken to get it so soft. He tilted his head at you, causing his ruffled hair to fall just out of the eyes still lacking the understanding you were now desperate to see. Then you pulled.

Your touch was gentle, unlike the many shoves and punches you’d playfully thrown his way over the years. His mouth seemed frozen, unlike the constant movement they’d have while running through the stream of consciousness he had no problem sharing with you. But his hands…his hands responded more quickly, their movements seemed so sure as they traced paths around your waist, pulling you into his lap. You left his lips, now parted in an “o”, watching from the comfort of his thighs as something other than electricity coursed through him.

“Ohhh, you…like me?” You open your mouth, ready to tease, but something about his face made you shut it. You weren’t sure if it was the contradiction of furrowed brows and wide eyes or if you were half imagining the distrust behind the gold irises, but you realized what he needed to hear.

“Yes.”

“Are you like…totally sure?” You smiled at the way his fingers pressed into your hips at the final word, revealing the desire behind the faltering question.

“Yes.” You leaned in, allowing yourself to grind against his lap as you kissed him less gently than before. This time his whole body responded to you. His lips and tongue moved across your neck and shoulders when your mouth wasn’t enough…already desperate to claim you entirely.

“Fuck, I like you too.” His confession came out broken, spaced between the hickeys he was leaving across your chest.

First time writing Kaminari :$ hope it came out okay bc he deserves it

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cleyellow-wood · 2 years

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a/n: inspired by nerves by dpr ian and today’s chan’s room bc he played dpr ian today heh. love confessions, and all that :)

[7:23 AM]

“hi, how’re you doing?”

it comes out awful, jagged, and wrong from his mouth, and he winces saying it. you frown around your lemonade, and chan has the feeling of standing backwards on the edge of a cliff, his heels dangling precariously on nothing.

“i’m good. happy.” you humour him and it makes him smile to himself, looking into his glass of water. their pastries lay between them, untouched. he wonders if your stomach is as tumultuous is his, but his can be attributed to the fact he’s in love with you. and yours could be because of how shitty he’s been to everyone around him. “you?”

“i’m fine.”

“oh, that’s good. i worried.”

“worried? about me?”

“of course. i care about you, you know. and you’re such a hard worker. the last few weeks, you’ve been stressed, but i didn’t know how to, y’know... i thought it was best if i just stayed away.” your nails tap the glass and you look aside, searching for words. chan’s hands come fully around his own glass, and although, his throat is dry, he doesn’t think he can pick up his water without dropping it.

“i’m sorry,” he says because it’s all he can say without saying how many times he laid awake, remembering that night he read those messages you sent him. messages he read too late, and han read right on time. how, many times, he wanted to run to you these past few weeks, only for you to have disappeared from his life as quickly as you’ve appeared in it.

you scratch at your wrist. “so, did you need something?”

and chan wants to be polite. he wants to somehow carefully segue into what he really wants to talk about like how he weaves a song together from nothing, but the panic that he’s welled up inside him since the staff had told him you already began to pack your bags to leave overtakes his tongue.

“i heard you were leaving.”

if you’re surprised, you don’t show it. “yes. the project is over. i don’t have a reason to stay any longer.”

a stupid voice in his head wants to ask, not even for me? but chan had thrown away his chances like coins into a fountain, and now you’re sitting across from him, shifting because he is the one making you nervous.

the one person you proclaimed could never make you uncomfortable.

he wonders if you said goodbye to everyone else and avoided him on purpose. if it hurts like this, like swallowing glass, awkward and agonizing, half of him wishes he let you run away.

“i hope you had fun in korea,” he finds himself saying. “and that you come back soon. the kids and i will miss you.”

your expression flickers from its controlled neutrality, and for a moment, he sees the wistfulness in your eyes at the mention of the others.

“it was nice meeting them. i’ll miss them, too.” unexpectedly, his eyes begin to burn at how your face softens as the memories flood your head, and chan looks down into his water, trying to fight the way his chest is clotting up.

a thousand apologies bubble up inside him, but when he tries to speak, a strange noise gets caught up in his throat and his face burns.

“sorry,” he utters.

“drink some water.”

he stares at you as you busy yourself with one of the pastries. it’s a sight he’s seen so many times before. the sun is slanting onto their table, and the sound of the early risers on the streets is nothing but a low murmur. in the winter, there’d been nothing but silence as their company. in the spring, people came with them. seungmin, or changbin. felix. hyunjin with his camera capturing an angle like it was your last and you’d be whisked away from them without a moment’s notice.

and now, this probably is the last moment, and hyunjin isn’t here.

“do you want some?” you ask, ripping the tail end of a croissant off.

he barely remembers to say yes.

they stick to menial subjects: how’s the album coming along? the project’s done, but when will it be out? oh, the concept photos looked interesting. chan’s eyes stop burning, but he avoids looking at you. you’re not too interested in him either, your lemonade slowly disappearing between your lips, the fruit tart that had accompanied the croissant slowly reduced to nothing more than crumbs.

he feels so incredibly tired.

“this was probably the most memorable trip i’ve ever taken,” you say suddenly, and he glances up at you, “and i’ll always look at the photos i took with a smile.”

“what was your favourite part?”

“i don’t know. i experienced so many new things. the food, lotte world.” that makes him crack a smile. you cross your arms on the table and lean forward. “the people and the music.” you hesitate, and you look from their empty plate, to him, and chan’s heart quickens at the softness there. “i fell in love here and that makes this place even more beautiful.”

his stomach cramps. he shouldn’t have eaten at all. “fell in love?”

“mhm. it might sound stupid, but i think that’s part of what makes leaving so hard.”

“you don’t have to. i heard your boss said you could take the open position in seoul.”

your smile trembles. you look out at the street. “no,” you say. “i couldn’t.”

“why not?”

“because it hurts too much to be here.” you look like you’re fighting something, and chan’s eyes begin to burn again. he clears his throat, and it does nothing but make the bruising sensation in his throat worse. “as much as i loved living here, i fell in love with someone here and i think that trumps anything else.”

instantly, chan’s brain runs through the possibilities of who it could be, and compares each one to himself. was it bambam? or yugyeom? god forbid, it’s one of the kids and chan has to fight himself to keep silent.

it’s moments before he can speak again, and he manages to keep his tone steady. “you never told me that.”

“i know you said it’s a bad idea to fall for an idol, so i felt bad because i didn’t listen to you,” you remind weakly. “like you said, most of the time, they’re not even real. but i think the guy i fell for was real.”

“and does he know?”

“no. i don’t think so. we used to see each other a lot, but recently, i think he doesn’t like me anymore.”

“you should’ve told me. i would’ve helped you.”

“i don’t think...” you laugh shakily and sit on your hands, leaning forward. your bottom lip snags on your teeth, and chan wants to reach forward to touch your mouth. “i just don’t think he likes me.”

“why not? they’d be stupid if they didn’t.”

a chuckle. “you really think that, huh.” pained and short and soft: “chan?”

his eyes lift from your mouth to your eyes. his throat goes dry. “yes?”

“i don’t want you to worry about it, okay? it doesn’t matter anymore. i’ve sort of accepted that he doesn’t love me since he pushed me away. it’s better if i stay away.” your eyes meet his, tired. “i don’t want to distract him, you see. he has an album coming out soon, and i think it’s probably a sign that i don’t exactly fit in with his lifestyle, if you understand.”

and he understands.

chan has never been stupid. far from it. the ground drops from underneath his feet as soon as it sinks in what exactly you’re implying. he thinks of the past three weeks, of every time he’s run to you, to find you busy with something else, talking to someone else, doing something else. there was always an excuse, and he thought you hated him. that you had wanted to meet new people, had grown sick of him. but he also knows how ungrateful he’d been. how clipped his answers were when all you were trying to do was help him on top of your own workload.

he doesn’t know why he decided to ignore you when you were standing right there. he doesn’t know why he couldn’t work harder to just fix himself for you. he knows that you deserve better than what you’ll get from him, but he can’t help himself from chasing after you. he just can’t let someone like you—someone who chooses to stay—go. him being here, calling you until you agreed to meet him at a café, is proof of all of that.

“i should go.” you rise, and chan shoots to his feet, too. you clear your throat, grabbing your bag, and step out into the street. a car drones past, and you watch it go as he tugs at the string of his hoodie, sidling up to face you.

they stand a foot apart, but it is a thousand yards. his heart has plummeted to his feet and he feels like he’s stepping all over it as his shoes scuff the sidewalk. you don’t look at him, hand gripping your bag tighter, and chan’s head aches at the idea of never seeing you again. of realizing too late.

you have to know. you have to know he felt the same way all this time—

“(name),” he says, and your eyes flit to him. as soon as their eyes meet, your gaze drops, and what’s left of his heart is crushed into dust. “he loves you, too. i’m sure of it.”

you frown, and not even your head turned can hide that away from him. “don’t try to be funny.”

“i know he loves you,” he promises. he reaches out slowly, and his fingers stall before they can touch your cheek. you stare at his reaching hand, before stepping back, head dipping. he swallows, fingers curling into a fist that he lets hang by his side. “he loves you more than he thought was possible.”

“you’re lying.” “why would i lie?”

“i don’t know. because you’re trying to make me feel better. because you do that.”

“i would never lie to you. please. look at me.” you don’t move, and he shuffles closer. your head jerks up to meet his gaze, and he cocks his head, leaning forward. “you distract me in the best way, and i don’t... i don’t want you to leave.”

your gaze burns. “it doesn’t feel like it. you hate me.”

“i could never hate you. i’ll prove it.” “when?” you challenge spitefully. “we’re out of time. i have to go home and present the project to the execs and receive my new assignment. i don’t have time to just... entertain you.”

“i’ll make time. i’ll carve out hours of my day for you. i’ll show you for as many days and nights as it takes to convince you that i’m in love with you. just come back as soon as you tie up your loose ends back home and i’ll make sure i apologize every single day.”

“chan.”

his heart wretches and rots as he begs, “just three days. if you don’t want to be with me after those three days, i’ll leave you alone.”

“you want me to fly across the world back here for three days for you?” you repeat, and he bites on the inside of his cheek, wincing. it’s a hard ask especially for professionals like them. chan thinks for a second you’ll step away and out of his life right then and there. after all, this is him asking for another chance—one that he himself doesn’t think is capable of existing.

he tries to come up with an adequate answer to your question in the meanwhile as if that’ll help his case. does he want you to fly across the world for him? no. no, that would be selfish and not productive on your end. chan wants you to be the most successful and happiest you can be above all else. so the question must be does he believe he can make you happy?

and the answer, in his brightest hour is yes. yes, he can, and he wants to give them a proper chance so he can prove it.

he opens his mouth to say as much, but you beat him to the punch.

“okay,” you agree. he blinks, staring at you, and your body seems to relax into your spine, your entire countenance shifting. your eyebrows draw together, and your eyes fix on him with curiosity. curiosity and sorrow. “okay.”

“okay?”

“i’ll have to figure out the vacation days i can take off,” you say. “but okay.”

“really?” his heart lurches up into his chest, lodges right underneath his larynx like an uncomfortable ball of anxious energy. “i don’t deserve this, but i promise, i’ll do my best to make this worth it for you.”

“i know you will,” you answer him softly. “i really do have to go, though, so this is goodbye.”

he shakes his head. “it doesn’t have to be.”

“then, i’ll see you later,” you propose, and he cracks a small, shaky grin as you reach out to hold his hand. his fingers curl tighter around yours instantly like you are the only thing keeping him from drifting away, and you are. he’s going to miss you more than he thought you would when he first saw you for the first time walking into their green room eighteen months ago. “make sure that guy stays in love with me.”

“as long as you don’t get over him.”

“it’s impossible, i think,” you say. “i’m in love with him, too.”

leave a reblog or comment if you enjoyed! :)

#bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagines #christopher bang #chan x reader #chan x you #skz #skz x you #skz x reader #skz scenarios #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids imagines #skz bang chan #skz imagines #he looked so great today in chans room fr #skz angst

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ridestomars · 2 years

Text

THE PERFECT GIRL – E. MUNSON

𖥻 summary: in which eddie makes a mixtape for you. 𖥻 pairing: eddie munson x alt!reader. 𖥻 warnings: this is part of my alt!reader concept, but can be read as a standalone. poor grammar possibly. not proofread.

💭 liv's thoughts: a big thanks to @saintlessmunson for reading my first draft <333 i only function on sudden urges and this is another one of them. just a compilation of songs that were important to the development of your relationship w eddie. it was supposed to have 5 songs, but i wrote about 3 bc i'm lazy <3 really hope you enjoy it! the fic's playlist.

DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU'RE UNDER SIXTEEN.

IS THERE SOMETHING I SHOULD KNOW? do you feel the same 'cause you don't let it show

Eddie almost regretted stepping foot inside the old record shop that day, especially when the music coming from the speakers was so loud that it could be heard from across the street; the annoying sound of Simon Le Bon's voice piercing through his ears as he miserably made his way inside. Walking with his head low to keep people from staring at him, he went straight to the Weird Al Yankovic section, trying to get this over with already.

His fingers expertly went through the selection of records, even though he knew he wouldn't be able to find whatever record Dustin didn't have because he simply didn't know what it was. It would've been so much easier if he could just gift the boy the new D&D book, or some great figures – but what could he possibly give to a kid who already has everything? His favorite artist's new album, of course. And that's what he intended to do if only he knew what his latest record was called.

"I always took you for a Judas Priest type of weird. Didn't know you were taking a step further," a familiar voice said, getting closer. He slowly looked to his side, realizing that you were walking towards him, in your full gothic attire; a cute lacy dress, with fishnets and heavy boots, all in black, of course. Eddie wasn't really in the mood to bicker, but for you, he could make an exception.

"It's not for me, Dracula," he muttered, still very focused on going through the endless records in front of him – half of them were just copies of the same title, which made more sense than Weird Al making so many records. "I'm buying this for Henderson. The small kid, curly hair, always with a cap".

He absentmindedly explained, going through the kid's most striking features.

"Yeah, I know who he is. And he already bought Polka Party last week".

"I'm sorry?" he turned to you, a big confused frown on his face.

"Polka Party," you repeated slowly, even though he still didn't understand what you said, "you know… his latest record? That's what you're looking for, right? Henderson already bought it."

"Shit," Eddie lamented, wincing slightly. "That's what I was going to buy him".

"That's too bad. Maybe you should try Tiny Tim, then", you suggested and saw that Eddie contemplated the idea, before rejecting it vehemently. "Well, then I have something that he might like".

"Yeah? And what is it?" he asked as he let go of the records, turning his body around completely to face you.

"It's called Licensed to Ill by the Beastie Boys. It just came in, so I highly doubt that he'd have it already", you explained as you guided Eddie to the newest releases shelves. "It has everything a teenage boy would like, I guess. Beer, girls, idiotic screaming…"

"Seems cool enough. What are they? A rock band?"

"They're rappers", you said and that didn't ring any bells for the metalhead. "Oh my God, don't you watch MTV at all?"

"Only the Heavy Metal Half-Hour. Don't really like any of the VJs", he shrugged. "Why do you sound so surprised? I mean, Duran Duran has been playing and I don't see you complaining. Aren't they out of fashion already?"

"Well, Marie's the one picking the music today, so if I say something I'd probably get fired", you put your hands up, showing that you are defenseless. "But don't you think you're a bit too close-minded?"

"Because I don't know the Beast Boys?"

"Beastie Boys", you correct him as you hand him the record. A jet is crashing into the side of a mountain on the cover, which definitely caught his attention. As he analyzed the album, you smiled lightly, finding the way his brown eyes scanned the cover to be very cute. "But it's like you live in your own little metal world… doesn't it get boring sometimes?"

"With Ozzy Osbourne? Never." he offered you a sly smile as his eyes shoot up to look at your face.

"You know, some people wouldn't even consider Ozzy to be metal," you teased him slightly and he loudly gasps, absolutely offended by your affirmation.

"Don't you ever say that again!"

"Oh, but I will! And I can even argue that you, Edward Munson, aren't metal at all."

"And why is that?" he asked, genuinely curious. "Because you just said that I am a close-minded metalhead, sweetheart".

"You know exactly what I mean! C'mon, half of the bands you like are hard rock, and I am including Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath on that list".

"Sure, Vlady." he rolls his eyes at you, walking to the nearest listening booth, with you on his tail. Eddie was already taking the vinyl out of its sleeve before asking you, "Any suggestions?"

"Rhymin' and Stealin', or No Sleep 'Til Brooklyn. They're the most metal of them".

"Nah, no metal. 'Cause now that I am a fully open-minded person, thanks to you, I think I'll go with…" he taunted you for your fruitless try to start one of your bickerings. "Hold It Now, Hit It".

"Great pick", you encouraged him, even though you knew he wasn't going to like it.

CRAZY TRAIN. i'm living with something that just ain't fair.

"Haven't you had enough of following me around, weirdo?"

"Nope. In fact, I would like to follow you some more", he answered as he keeps trailing behind you, putting up Madonna's True Blue cardboard cut-out next to the album shelves. "Killer jeans, by the way".

"Gross," even though you tried to seem annoyed by his statement, the smile on your face betrayed you. Thank God he couldn't see it. "But I'm afraid you won't have much time to appreciate it, since I'll be leaving in… five minutes".

You said after checking your wrist clock, then helping him to stabilize the life-size Madonna on the floor. Then, you took a few steps back to appreciate the result of your teamwork.

"What? I thought you worked until five!" he exclaimed as he let go of the cardboard. The abrupt motion almost took it down, but you swiftly put it back to its original place. "Sorry".

"Stalker much?" you playfully ask, making his cheeks blush lightly. When you were finally done with the Madonna cardboard, you walked to the store's counter, leaning down to get your backpack. As you started to organize your things, you explained, "I worked overtime yesterday, so Marie is covering for me today".

You felt his gaze follow you intensely, watching how your hands moved as you grabbed your own cassettes, your coat, and a few fanzines and stuffed them back into your bag. To be quite frank, you were actually enjoying having his attention on you, seeing the things you liked – maybe he could get to know a bit more about you by seeing your Echo and The Bunnymen tape.

"Do you- um…" when he sees you sling your backpack on one of your shoulders, he begins to muster up the courage to ask, but as he senses your eyes on him, his voice falters a bit, "do you want a ride?"

"Is your van clean?" you asked as you start to walk towards the exit, Eddie following you closely. "I don't really feel like sitting on another pack of Doritos today".

"Fuck off", it's hard to miss the humor in his voice, "And I did. It's as good as new".

"Alright, then. Lead the way", you say as you open the store's door. Now, you were the one following him, trying to keep up with his long, quick steps. You almost miss the van, only stopping because of Eddie's sudden stop. "Why is it blue?"

"I painted it. Got tired of red".

"Nice. Why don't you paint it black next time? You know, to fit your aesthetic".

"Noted," he acknowledges your suggestion, walking up to the passenger door and opening it for you. "M'lady".

"Thank you, good lord." you graciously answer, getting inside the (thankfully clean) van. It only takes Eddie a couple of moments to sit in the driver's seat, and he founds you curiously eyeing the whole vehicle.

"Found any Doritos yet?"

"No, but I found this" you pick up a little zip bag that was carelessly laid on the van's floor, next to your feet. "Do you just leave this stuff all over the place? You should be more careful, you know? I heard Hopper is after your ass".

"Jesus H. Christ!" his eyes were wide as pies as he sees the marijuana bag you held, taking it in a rush. He almost drops it as he hurriedly stuffs it in his jacket pocket. "How d'you know that?"

"It's impossible not to. Everyone loves to talk about the resident freak's latest shenanigans." you smile playfully at him again, finding out that he was already staring at you, with an amused look on his face. "And when you work at a place that the whole town visits, you end up knowing lots of stuff".

"Yeah? Like what?" he starts the van, maneuvering out of its parking spot.

"Well…" you think about it for a while, trying to remember the hottest piece of gossip you know. "Heather Maxwell was almost arrested for, one, driving while drunk and two, for having sex with Stuart Mills on her parents' car at the side of the road. Hopper was less than pleased".

"Stuart? As in-"

"Her best friend's boyfriend, yes!" you excitedly interrupt him, and he audibly gasps as he hears the missing piece of information.

"I always knew Heather was up to no good," Eddie commented. "I mean, wasn't she the one who spiked our middle school punch without telling anyone?"

"Yeah," you laughed, "thank God Mrs. O'Donnell confiscated it."

"Oh, but it tasted so good!"

"You drank it?" you ask and watch him enthusiastically nod, and your eyes widen slightly, "That explains why you were dancing to the Bay City Rollers, then".

"That wasn't because I was drunk! I actually really like them".

"Shut up!"

"I'm serious!" he confirms, laughing. You lean towards him as he makes an accentuated curve, brushing shoulders lightly. "You know, bye, bye, baby, baby goodbye!"

You laugh harder as he sings the band's song completely out of tune, and the resounding sound of your laughter quickly infected him and you both entered a long fit of giggles. After it died down, though, it wasn't as awkward as you thought it would be; comfortably sharing the silence until you motioned to the radio, and picking up on that, Eddie asked, "d'you wanna turn on the radio? I have no idea of which tape is in, though".

"It'll be a surprise, then. I bet it's Motorhead".

"And I bet it's Dio".

"Let's see!" you pressed the on button and the beginnings of Ozzy Osbourne's Crazy Train filled up the whole van. Eddie's sound system always impressed you with how powerful the music reverberated through the small space. "Fuck, not even close".

"Yeah, but it's still great!" he observed, looking at you quickly, "Crazy, but that's how it goes".

"Millions of people living as foes," you started to sing along with him, earning another glance from him, only a surprised one this time. That was enough for you to turn the music louder.

"You know this one?"

"Hell yeah, dude! It's, like, one of his only good songs".

"No, it's not!"

"It's not a good song, you mean?" you tried to trick him, but of course, he wouldn't fall for it.

"It's one of his greatest, Y/N!" he observes, thumbs tapping against the steering wheel accompanying the beat of the song. "You know, for someone who works at a music store, you should really start appreciating Ozzy more."

"Sure, Munson." you rolled his eyes. "I've listened to preachers".

"I've listened to fools", he stepped even harder on the gas, making the van speed along the street, making dust and leaves go up in the air, trailing along. Everything about this moment made you smile; from the wind that blew right at your face to the sounds Eddie made to emulate the song's guitar.

"I've watched all the dropouts who make their own rules", you pretended to hold a microphone, and then offered it to him, letting him sing the next line into your hand. And he did it with the biggest and brightest smile on his face, dimples deepening as he mouthed the words. He looked so pretty like this, all smiles, doe eyes, and hair flowing wildly.

To the people who watched the van speed through Hawkins' streets, you seemed like two maniacs. The laughter, screams, and out-of-tune-singing were enough for everyone to look at you as the freaks they considered you to be, not that you cared for that right now, especially when you're by Eddie's side.

You cried out loud as you spotted your house at the end of the street.

"Oh no! Can you go around the block? Just until the song ends, please?" you ask him, pleading almost. You were having too much fun to be interrupted now.

"If I could, I'd drive around the whole state for you, sweetheart. But is the highway enough for you?" he asked, slowing the van down to look at you. As you nod at him, in an almost desperate manner, he laughs loudly. "Rewind the song, then!"

Crazy, but that's how it goes…

PERFECT GIRL. i think i'm falling, i think i'm falling in…

"Hey, Y/N! Your freak is here!" Marie announces as the plops her head inside the employee's room, which made you roll your eyes in a way that you thought they wouldn't go back to their place. Your body didn't care too much about Marie's unnecessary nickname, since it was too preoccupied with reacting to the fact that Eddie was here. Your palms were suddenly sweaty and butterflies were all over the place; you doubted you could even take two steps before starting to smile like a maniac.

"Don't call him that," you scolded her as you passed by, going directly to the store's counter. Your eyes scanned the place quickly, not taking long to spot the untamed mane of the one and only Eddie Munson, who was going through the alternative section – something that has become surprisingly normal these past few weeks. "Eds!"

"Hey, Vlady!" he cheerily greeted you, skipping his way to the counter. "Nice earrings. Are those bats?"

"Yeah. Made them myself".

"Could you make one for me, maybe?" Eddie put his hair behind his right ear, showing you the small silver hoop he usually wore. "I feel like it's time for a change".

"Sure thing", you offered him a sweet smile and made a (very highlighted, sparkly, shiny) mental note to make the best earring you could ever create for him. "Had fun at the alternative section?"

"Yup! In fact, I was meaning to ask you: have you listened to the new The Cure album yet?"

"No, but my friends said they liked it, so I'm excited".

"You should be. It's actually great".

"What!? You've already listened to it?"

"Fuck yeah", he replied like it was obvious, and continued, with a taunting smile, "Now who's the one that isn't up with the news?"

"Hey! I just didn't have the time, ok? College is kicking my butt." you explained while you gathered the cassettes that were laid out on the counter. As soon as your hand touched the first one, you saw Eddie's pale hand also collecting a few – always so eager to help. "It was just a surprise, you know? You got to hear my favorite band's new album before me".

"I'm just keeping up with the times, sweetheart. Oh, how'd you say it?" he took a while to remember the exact term you had used a while back, "Yeah, I'm opening up my horizons".

"You're such a weirdo", you rolled your eyes before handing him a Frank Sinatra tape, a identical copy to the ones he was organizing.

"Thanks" he muttered, "Like the gloves, by the way. Very metal… or should I say, totally goth?"

"Shut up" you giggled and moved out of the counter, on your way to put the tapes in their usual place. You heard Eddie's boots thumping loudly against the floor, meaning that he was following you.

"You know, I came here to give you something".

"What?" you suddenly turn around, in surprise, and drop a few tapes when you crash right into his chest. And before you can lean down to catch them, he has already collected all of them and is standing up slowly, in a way that makes you hold your breath; his hair actually brushes against the hem of your skirt, lifting it up slightly, and you're pretty sure you felt his knuckles graze lightly against your knee. And then, he's standing close… dangerously so. You can actually feel his warm breath against your face, the small puffs of air hitting you as he talks... and you don't pay attention to a single word he said. "I-I'm sorry?"

"I said it's a gift," even though you were pretty sure Eddie would find the whole situation amusing and make fun of you for being so strange, he isn't. And he seems to be just as affected as you are, with burning red cheeks. "You know, a thing that one person gives to another as a token of their appreciation?"

"I know what a gift is, dumbass. I just don't understand why you would give me something".

"I just explained it to you, Dracula. A token of my appreciation." he smiles softly at you, his dimples showing. You did your best to actually organize the cassettes instead of just throwing them everywhere, but that didn't matter right now, not when Eddie was searching his pockets looking for something; your gift. Then, he handed you a small tape, very similar to the ones you were just holding. "It has one of The Cure's new songs in it… it really reminded me of you. So it would be nice if you listened to it."

"Sure", you couldn't fight the big smile that appeared on your face, feeling your face heat up as your fingertips brushed against his hand as you took the cassette. "I'll listen to it today, and then I'll call you and tell you what I think, yeah?"

"Perfect".

+++

As soon as you stepped foot in your bedroom, you didn't wait another second before plopping the tape into your boombox and anxiously fast-forwarding it until you stumbled upon Robert Smith's sped-up voice. You felt bad for not paying attention to the little details Eddie put into it, like the adhesive tape he glued and the name of the mixtape, but you just couldn't wait – couldn't even waste time listening to the other tracks, really, too set upon hearing the new song. Acting like that, it may seem that you've never had a mixtape made for you before, but it was quite de contrary: your friends made you tapes all the time, but this... this was different. This was Eddie's tape. And that was reason enough to keep you giggling like a schoolgirl, almost kicking your feet in the air in your state of giddiness. Laying down on your bed, you hugged one of your pillows bringing it to your chin, a perfect tool to use to muffle your lovesick laughter as you finally heard the little unknown do-do-do's.

The fuzziness you felt in your whole body distracted you from actually paying attention to the music, because you were too busy still trying to wrap your head around the fact that Eddie Munson – The Eddie Munson – listened to a whole The Cure album for you; heard this specific song and thought of you; and spent time making this mixtape for you. All because of you. You had to take a few breaths to bring your mind back to the song, or else you'd spend the whole night rewinding the poor tape.

You held your breath as Robert Smith sang 'you're such a strange girl, I'd like to turn you upside-down', and your eyebrows involuntarily shot up. A familiar heat crept up your neck and took hold of your cheeks while a smile kept dancing on your lips. Once again, your pillow came into action, muffling a fit of giggles as it hid your flushed cheeks from the cold air of your bedroom.

It was unnecessary to wait too long for your next hysterics to come through because as soon as you heard 'you're such a strange girl, the way you look like you do. You're such a strange girl, I want to be with you', you were absolutely gone; laughing excitedly as your eyes widened and your own body didn't know whether to feel extremely lovesick or surprised. But you couldn't just sit and wait for it to decide, so almost unconsciously, you reached for the phone and dialed the number you had already memorized.

"You reached the Munsons! It's Eddie".

"Hi." that's all you could say before giggling again.

"Hey, Vlad. I take it that you've already listened to the tape?"

"'m still listening".

"Cool," he commented, starting to become a bit uneasy. "A-and what did you think?"

"Well, I think that Robert Smith is a genius." you paused a bit, just for the dramatics, and heard Eddie's heavy breath on the other side of the line. "And that you and I should go on a date sometime".

"Y-yeah, that's exactly what I was thinking", you could practically hear his smile and that made you laugh once more. "Benny's Burger?"

"Perfect. You're free on Friday?"

"For you? Always".

"Great. I'll see you at seven then."

"It's a date".

"It's a date", you confirmed, biting your lower lip, trying to keep your smile from getting any wider.

I think I'm falling… I think I'm falling in… I think I'm falling in love with you.

LIKES, REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED!

eddie masterlist | main masterlist | navigation ── hey! wanna talk? leave me a message after the beep. currently accepting requests for steve, nancy and eddie.

𖤐 taglist: @oncasette; @kinqsteve; @metroiras; @dragon-ash13; @virgoyves; @stevesmixtape ; @Darkened_Writer; @thedixon04 ; @eddiemvnsonss ; @falsegodsaltar ; @liltimmyst ; @juggernort ; @saintlessmunson ; @wrenniebaby ; @hoennislands ; @ssahotchnerswife ; @summer-may

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#this is so long #eddie munson x reader #liv talks about eddie #liv writes #eddie munson x alt!reader #eddie x alt!reader #alt!reader

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daechwitatamic · 1 year

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Yes, he was WILD! Too many amazing moments to count. Seesaw acoustic version with the signed guitar killed me. There was a sweet moment where he noticed an army's birthday sign in the crowd and had us all sing for her (after saying huh? trying to hear her name about 5x) Wbu now that you've had time to process??

And then it was just so fun to be around everyone going bonkers! Someone gave me a little Agust D themed goodie bag, just cuz. There was a teenage girl with her mom next to me absolutely shrieking at the top of her lungs for two solid hours who apologized repeatedly for blowing out my ear drums. And I did not mind at all, because BTS creates such a special space for us and normal decorum does not apply! And then I've already seen so many people on Tumblr post about being there too and it makes my heart warm, I wish I could've met them all irl

Our seats were pretty good, we were in the upper bowl on the right side of the stage and he came over our way a lot! I hadn't been to the Kia Forum before that, but it's a pretty small venue (at least compared to enormous SoFi next door) so truly felt like there was not a bad seat in the house. I can't wait until 2025/2026 for another concert so here's keeping our fingers crossed we get a tour from someone else before they leave.

I will definitely keep you updated on my thoughts on the book, I have a bunch of travel coming up so will have lots of time for plane reading! I already have my Taetae bookmark tucked in it, ready to go.

🌴

My highlights were:

the ENERGY of the crowd when he started Daechwita. like. i had a moment where i was like fuck i love us :') getting to scream that along with the entire prudential center was incredible

the POUT on his lil FACE when his guitar string broke!!!

finding Jimin straight across the arena from me, and Yoongi telling us to pay attention to HIM :') trolls. i love them.

the crowd singing along to Amygdala went SO HARD and it was only a week after release and i just hope he felt our love and understanding echoing back at him aufshakuhfuiwahf BYE

getting to see nevermind performed bc i honestly thought i never would bc that era ended before i was army and it is THEEEEEEEEEEEEE jo song of all jo songs.

i got a ton of goodies when i was in line too! the best was the AMAZING keychain, i'll have to post a photo and see if i can get the artist's @ out of my bag.

i also met up with several moots that weekend and that was WONDERFUL and i loved it :')

i loooooooove that taetae is gonna keep you company through fifth season!!!!!!!!! when you finish i'll tell you about my crossover idea >:)

have a great weekend my friend <3

#🌴 anon #answered

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preeningpisces · 4 months

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ENFP/ENTP, 7w6 I think??? I get wildly different results everytime I take that test lmao

Leo Sun, Pisces Moon, Scorpio Rising

Currently Reading (and hating): The Fisherman

Currently Watching: Apothecary Diaries

Currently Playing: Overwatch (I’m disappointed in me too)

Current Favorite Song: Run - Hozier

Some fun facts:

Played piano for 13 years, but haven’t played since like 2020 bc I don’t have a piano

Epileptic - I come with a vibrate mode

I go insane over astrology - pls talk to me about it I’ll piss myself

I have older parents so I like a lot of old movies/music

In a bookclub!

☼ My Pisces moon is in the 3rd house, which rules writing, so I thought it was perfect to theme the blog around :3

☼ I love love love horror books and video games, and hope to reflect my love for darker themes in writing once I gain more confidence. I'm kind of a wuss when it comes to movies but I'm slowly working my way through them

☼ I only recently came across the term Yumejoshi & the self-ship community, even though it’s something I’ve done as long as I can remember, so I’m exploring that! I’m OK with sharing 🧡

Things that inspire me: Cosmic horror! Soulsborne/Elden Ring, Fear and Hunger, Dye - Fantasy, Beserk, gothic romance, music, dreams pretty often tbh

An Assortment of Faves

Anime: Mushi Shi!!! My fave of all time. FMAB, Nana, Chainsaw Man, Mononoke, Count of Monte Cristo, Kami-Sama Kiss, Soul Eater, Katekyo Hitman Reborn, Gekken Shojo Nozaki-Kun, Ouran Highschool Hostclub

Manga: Tokyo Ghoul, Blood on the Tracks, Dorohedoro

TV shows: Fleabag, BoJack Horseman, Hannibal, Midnight Mass, Interview with the Vampire, Avatar, Gravity Falls, What We Do in the Shadows, Bobs Burgers, Face Off, Drag Race

Books: Between Two Fires, Migrations, The Haar, Misery, The Seed, Edgar Allen Poe, Lovecraft

Video Games: Skyrim, Wolf Among Us, Dragon Age, Soulsborne / Elden Ring, Fear and Hunger, Sims, Overwatch (rip), Animal Crossing, Baldur's Gate 3, way too many indie horror games to list here but I’ll list Kohlat

Movies: Amadeus, The Ritual, Babe, As Above So Below, Bride and Prejudice, Interview with the Vampire, The Princess Bride, Arsenic and Old Lace, Song of the Sea, Hunchback of Notre Dame, Hercules, Prince of Egypt, Origin, Howl’s Moving Castle, Nausicaa, Princess Mononoke, Room with a View, Scream, Most Detective Poirot movies

Music: Cosmo Sheldrake, Mrs. Piss, Dance Gavin Dance, Hozier, Doja Cat, Sza, Slipknot, Heart, Credence Clearwater Revival, Queen, EXO, Fuji Kaze, Herb Alpert, Ethel Cain, Julie

Art Creds:

Middle | Right

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writefightandflightclub · 4 months

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LUNAAAAA you've got me schreeching at how good ch2 of ride or die is!! Just like the first chapter, this is so special to me!!!

I really love the continued friendship with Frankie, it feels like they are sincerely friends and we can see why.

Absolutely adore the way the complicated emotions of heartbreak are explored. Wanting to deny that you've caused someone else heartbreak bc even if you are the one who ended things you never wanted to hurt the other person, that pit-in-the-stomach realisation that you've broken your own heart, on one hand hating the idea of someone you care so deeply for is unhappy but at the same time their happiness feels like a knife in your soul, the dichotomy of wanting to be with someone that you also cannot bear to face, trying to hide what you are feeling when it is the only thing you can think about... the messy tension and realism of it all has my heart in knots, in the best way!!

Tom is a jerk and deserved some smack-talk, but I really like the reflection that he wasn't necessarily the best target at that moment, that the real anger came from a different source, but in moments like that you do really just want to get the attention away from you. Again, the complexity of emotions and realism in this story makes the pining and yearning and sadness al the more delicious.

I did NOT think Frankie was gonna say Santi has a heartbreak playlist and I want to know what songs are there so bad. This might actually be my favourite detail from the chapter.

Lastly that ending???? You have me beyoooond hooked

Hi darling, and thank you so much for this wonderful ask! 🧡😊

I love that you love the friendship with Frankie. He definitely sticks around through the story and is pretty integral at times. I’m so pleased to hear that friendship feels genuine, as that felt really important for me to convey!

And oh gosh, the complex emotions! I’m so happy all those nuances came across and added to the realism!!! 🥹🧡🙏 They are both feeling SO much, and I really hoped the emotional arc would come across as plausible and true to the characters and who they are and what they want in all of their messy humanness (we’ll see if I pull that off as the story pans out, lol!)!

Ah and thank you for picking up on that Tom moment! Even though they feature to varying degrees, I really did put a lot of thought into how to deal with each of the side characters, especially according to what they are all dealing with pre-canon (which is a LOT), and what their dynamic with reader might be. I wanted reader and Tom to butt heads a little, but I also wanted to humanise him and have her acknowledge when that’s a little problematic too. It would be too easy to make him The Bad Guy when I don’t feel that’s what he is in this story. Plus, they are friends. (As well, this is all set pre-canon so we don’t have as many reasons to be pissed with him yet! 🤣)

And OOOOHH the playlist!!! Well, you are in luck, because I do plan to share a bonus playlist sometime after the story’s conclusion 👀 So happy you enjoyed that detail!

And the ending. I really left you hanging there, huh?! 😅 I think/hope you’ll enjoy the next instalment.

Thank you so much for blessing me with your commentary, it honestly makes me SO happy! 🧡😊🙏

#ride or die series #ride or die spoilers

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jjkeverlast · 9 months

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Hi it's moonie 🙈

I just saw your post about the new troy sivan mv (I didn't get to watch it yet) and I thought it's appropriate time to tell sort of like a story I have about him or more like the mv from some time ago ( I hope you don't mind I haven't told this story to anybody and I just wanted to share with someone)

So although I don't follow every track that troy puts out and I listen to the more popular songs now the 'blue neighborhood' album was the one that sort of changed how I view the lgbtq+ community. Let's start with the fact that I'm from Poland and people here are very much not open to stuff like that (I hope you know what I mean my English is not cooperating rn) and I always heard adults talking about how being gay and stuff like that is bad and I believe I was around 14 at the time so my views on the world were just starting to form. And looking back I'm so grateful that I came across troy sivan at that point in time bc i watched the tree mv for that album (the ones that tell the story of the gay couple) and it was one of the first times when I saw something where gay couples were shown so freely and beautifully (I definitely wouldn't see anything like that in tv in this country). I remember being fascinated about finding something that doesn't show lgbtq people as something bad and disgusting but rather something that is normal and just as beautiful as love between a man and a woman.

And as time went by bc of that little discovery (and many others after) I've grown up with an open mind and I'm really happy about that part of myself.

(I wish I could write this story better and with more detail and better words but I hope you don't have much trouble understanding 😭 I will blame all the wrong things at the fact that I'm tired and that my English is not Englishing recently)

But now how have you been? How was the trip to see the family? And how is using your sisters ipad going? I really liked the little comic (?) you posted.

I hope you have a good night and that we all survive yoongi going into his military service on Friday 💜

hi moonie!! first and foremost, thank you for sharing this story with me. 🥺 — you should definitely watch the music video for rush and got me started. they’re so beautiful!!!

i had no idea blue neighborhood had such a positive effect on you! i remember loving it when i was younger and just troye sivan in general. i’m glad you stumbled upon him when you were still developing, learning things and acknowledging the world around you. and you’re so right!! he portrayed it so beautifully in those three music videos. just an innocent and pure love between two people, no matter the gender! 🩷

i’m happy to hear that you’re appreciative of the open mind you’ve now gained based off this experience. i’m right behind you to say that’s amazing and incredible 🥹🥹 and please, don’t worry about your english! i understand you perfectly :))

i’ve been good!! my trip with my family was lovely. hadn’t seen most of them for around 7-8 years so it was very heartfelt and an emotional time!

skshshsj regarding my sisters ipad it’s going well! i haven’t drawn as much as i expected lmfao. i’ve actually been writing fics on it instead. but thank you for complimenting my tiny comic 🥺 here’s the full pic if you wanted it;

i hope you have a great night as well and yea, we can do this!!! i’m still pretty sad about it but it’ll heal slowly 😁 i hope you’re well sweetie!! 🩷🩷

#anonie🌝#moonie <3 #lati's mailbox📬

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renegadeontherunn · 3 years

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happiness by taylor swift is a disaster lineage song, sorry I don’t make the rules

okay so yes I should be writing or doing homework instead of making this extremely rambly, slightly incoherent post but it’s friday so I’m vibing and you lovely people get to join me!

this is the ultimate star wars grief song for our tcw trio and I see it in three different contexts:

Ahsoka’s POV to Anakin, Obi-Wan, and the Order after she leaves in the season 5 finale

Ahsoka & Rex during/after Order 66

Obi-Wan & Ahsoka to Vader (Obi-Wan on Tatooine and (REBELS SPOILERS) Ahsoka after her duel with him in The Twilight of the Apprentice—for reference, I’ve only seen parts of Rebels so if some of that stuff is inaccurate, let me know!)

so we go . . .

honey when I’m above the trees / I see this for what it is

on a ship, in the Force, in hindsight

but now I’m right down in it / all the years I’ve given / is just shit we’re dividing up / showed you all of my hiding spots

#1: Ahsoka’s years learning in the Order, being a Padawan, her dedication to the Jedi and her faith to their teachings (”the values of the Jedi are sacred to me”), all the years she’s given are just completely thrown away as soon as there’s suspicion against her (in the unfinished episodes, Anakin says “well what choice did we give her? the moment there were any suspicions about her loyalty the Council turned their back on her.”) they both share this anger about her expulsion, and Ahsoka brings it up later during the Siege of Mandalore when she says “and what? defend the Council’s actions? I hardly think I’m the best person for that.”

#2: again, Ahsoka’s years fighting alongside the 501st, growing close with Rex and Jesse and everyone else to suddenly find them turning on her (this is before she knows about the chips, of course). she could also be feeling this in tandem with Rex—“those soldiers, my brothers, are willing to die and take you and me along with them!” all the years Rex has given in the 501st, with his brothers, fighting for the Republic, having to watch his brothers be killed and not be able to do anything, all his hardship just means nothing. their attempts to be themselves, to be unique, to not just be “another number,” were useless in the end. the “showed you all of my hiding spots” line points to the closeness and friendship that they had with each other

#3: again again, pretty self-explanatory, all the years Ahsoka and Obi-Wan have given to teaching and learning from and loving Anakin are just completely thrown away by his fall to the Dark Side and him ultimately trying to kill them. the same for the last line applies here, they were brothers, they were sister and brother, they were a family and then it was all ruined.

I was dancing when the music stopped

In each of the scenarios, they were preoccupied, in the middle of something else (the war, capturing Maul, defeating Grievous, helping Ezra, etc.) when everything stopped and collapsed. each situation was completely unexpected and each time, their worlds fell apart.

and in the disbelief / I can’t face reinvention

#1: all Ahsoka’s ever known is the Jedi, and now without them (without anyone to help her or any connections or support), she has to completely change her way of life, as well as lie or invent a new background for herself (”Skywalker Academy,” “my older brother taught me,” “I used to live on the upper levels of Coruscant,” etc.)

also—Ahsoka becomes Ashla, and then Fulcrum (reinventing herself over and over again) and Obi-Wan becomes Ben. obviously, they don’t want to have to change, and again with “in the disbelief,” each of these events was unexpected and a complete gut punch.

there’ll be happiness after you / but there was happiness because of you / both of these things can be true there is happiness / past the blood and bruise / past the curses and cries / beyond the terror in the nightfall

I don’t think this line needs any explanation, but I’ll give some anyway! In a meta-sense, the audience started Star Wars with the happiness after all three events, but especially Vader. the Original Trilogy showed the end of the Empire, the Rebellion, the happy endings of Luke, Leia, Han, etc. in-universe, both Ahsoka and Obi-Wan hold this sense of bittersweet nostalgia (because how can you not?), both with Obi-Wan training/looking after Luke and Ahsoka joining the Rebellion and helping the characters in Rebels. they’re both trying to ensure happiness after Anakin.

but, of course, of course there was happiness because of Anakin, that’s what The Clone Wars shows us! we see them happy (or, at least, somewhat) in tcw, which obviously makes everything much sadder, but still. they were happy. and Obi-Wan and Ahsoka both know it—we see it explicitly with Ahsoka meditating to Anakin’s holo and reminiscing in Rebels. they found happiness and love and family in the war, where there was so much death, so much destruction, so much darkness and terror. they found each other, they found happiness anyway. this can also apply to the OT, since that trio also found family and happiness in the midst of the Empire.

it’s this inherent optimism that both Ahsoka and Obi-Wan share that Anakin doesn’t (or didn’t) that’s keeping them afloat. it’s the adherence to the light, to kindness, to compassion.

haunted by the look in my eyes

#1: going back to our three scenarios, you could say Ahsoka was probably haunted by the look in the Council members’ eyes—especially Yoda, Plo, Obi-Wan—when they expelled her. as well as, of course, the look in Anakin’s eyes when he begs her to stay and she says no. the ending image of season 5, the last image we ever saw of tcw for years—with Anakin’s sad, wide eyes—yeah. that look.

#2: overall, this context has less to it, but I’ll still argue that the look in Rex’s eyes, in the clones’ eyes haunted both Ahsoka and Rex, probably especially Rex. or even, not seeing his brothers’ eyes and instead seeing their blasters pointed at him. their final scene, with the eyes of the helmets (Ahsoka’s eyes painted on) stuck on sticks. yeah, that definitely haunted them both.

#3: Obi-Wan and Ahsoka both get horrifyingly clear images of Anakin’s gold eyes. Anakin’s look when he shouts “I hate you!” surely haunted Obi-Wan, as well as Anakin saying “Ahsoka” and “then you will die” with a very clear, obvious image of Anakin’s gold, scarred eye through his mask.

that would’ve loved you for a lifetime

#1: Ahsoka was prepared to be a Jedi forever, for a lifetime

#2: Rex, more in this case, but both he and Ahsoka did and would’ve loved the clones forever. those were Rex’s brothers and it’s so clear, especially with the scene of him crying in the hangar bay, that this is killing him

#3: Obi-Wan and Ahsoka would’ve loved Anakin for a lifetime—and I’d argue they did, despite everything (”you were my brother, Anakin! I loved you!” and “my Master could never be as vile as you” and “to the best of us”)

leave it all behind

#1: sorry if this is getting repetitive, but yeah, Ahsoka left everything, her entire life, everything and everyone she’s ever known behind

#2: Rex and Ahsoka leave everything on that moon, including her lightsabers that she just got back and then had to give up a second time

#3: Obi-Wan leaves everything behind and flees to Tatooine. Ahsoka tells Ezra this—to let Kanan go, essentially leave the past behind him. And she can’t “save her Master” either. she too must let him go.

tell me when did your winning smile / begin to look like a smirk?

this is just so Anakin slowly falling to madness and the Dark Side. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan thinking about the signs they’d missed, if there was some way they could’ve stopped it, if just one thing had been different, if they’d just noticed. trying to figure out where it all went wrong.

when did all our lessons start to look like weapons pointed at my deepest hurt?

#1: “the values of the Jedi are sacred to me”—and then she’s expelled and told that it was part of her great trial in becoming a Knight. a foundation of the Jedi Order and its process gets turned against her.

#3: this line becomes literal—Padawan lessons, sparring, suddenly became dueling Anakin to death, for both Obi-Wan and Ahsoka

no I didn’t mean that / sorry, I can’t see facts through all of my fury

#1: you could argue that Obi-Wan is right when he said Ahsoka let her feelings cloud her judgement in leaving; that she couldn’t see the facts through the pain of being betrayed by the Council. and then, when she comes back in the Siege of Mandalore, immediately, she and Obi-Wan start arguing, and then both of them are clouded by their feelings, both feeling hurt by the other and lashing out.

#3: again, this is just so Anakin turning to the Dark Side. he obviously doesn’t realize that he’s being blinded by fury (or maybe he does and just doesn’t care, or probably, thinks that is the only way). but he is. he’s completely blinded to logic, to reality by the fury that Sidious has spent years amping up and harvesting and Anakin himself has spent years bottling.

you haven’t met the new me yet

this line is really painful if you view it from Anakin’s perspective. they both believed he was dead, but no, turns out he’s a Sith Lord, in fact the Sith Lord that’s been the Emperor’s tool in causing immense pain and destruction across the galaxy. it’s this evil, excited little line from his POV (think that ROTS comic: “please say it’s Kenobi. Lord Vader gets such a thrill from killing people who care for him”)

there’ll be happiness after me / but there was happiness because of me / both of these things I believe

again, there’s that optimism, that desire to help people, to do good in the world, and this faith that Obi-Wan and Ahsoka both have. that’s why Obi-Wan helps Luke, that’s why Ahsoka joins the Rebellion. it’s all to ensure that there will be some happiness, some light after them (and maybe a little because of them. again, see the first chorus. they were happy once, and they both know it. “we’ll be fine, as long as we stay together.”)

there is happiness / in our history / across our great divide

I see this mostly as Ahsoka and Anakin (and Obi-Wan) during season 7. there’s still a connection, of course, love and happiness between them, despite the ending that’s right on their heels, as well as the great divide of Ahsoka leaving the Order.

there is a glorious sunrise / dappled with the flickers of light

Anakin does end up returning to the Light Side and his reunion with Obi-Wan is surely like a “glorious sunrise” that ended the darkness of the past twenty+ years. the second part I just see as a fun, literal line—flickers of light are lightsabers, blaster fire, the Light Side

I can’t make it go away by making you a villain

in short, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka can’t make the pain or the past happiness go away because Anakin’s now Vader. they still both remember Anakin fondly and with love, despite his fall. they loved him, still. in ROTS, when Anakin says “from my point of view, the Jedi are evil!” Obi-Wan doesn’t say “then you are evil,” or even “you are wrong,” he says “then you are lost.” lost. as in, can be found again. not evil, not unworthy, not wrong. just lost. there’s this goodness that Anakin has that he is ignoring and straying from (”there is good in him”). and in the context of Order 66, Ahsoka can’t and doesn’t make the clones villains because she knows they’re actually the victims. as much pain as it causes, they’re not the villains and she can’t act like they are.

so I know there’s a lot of discourse about Anakin apologists or whatever, so all I’ll say is that George Lucas has said that the prequels are to show how a “nice little kind kid, who has good intentions” turns into Darth Vader. the whole point of the PT is this line—while Anakin/Vader is no doubt the villain in the OT and in ROTS to a degree, that doesn’t make everything else go away. the other stuff doesn’t excuse what he did, all the pain he caused, but we can’t make it go away, just because he’s a villain. that’s one of the beauties of the prequels, that we get this extremely fleshed out, torn and struggling kid who ends up making all the wrong choices and becoming the terrible villain we see in the OT.

I guess it’s the price I pay for seven years in heaven

while none of these scenarios is seven years exactly, it does continue to drive the point of “all the years I’ve given is just shit we’re dividing up.” everything these characters had, individually and with each other, just gets utterly, completely ruined.

in a more meta-sense, the ending of The Clone Wars is the price we, the fans, pay for seven seasons of the show.

no one teaches you what to do / when a good man hurts you / and you know you hurt him too

this could point again to Ahsoka and Anakin, but also Ahsoka and Obi-Wan after she leaves the Order. when she comes back, none of them really know what to say, what to do, how to act around each other. this obviously comes out as arguments and words that are so close to what they really want to say, but just short. they’ve all been hurt and none of them know what to do about it.

and, of course, Obi-Wan and Anakin in ROTS. Obi-Wan doesn’t want to believe that Anakin’s fallen to the Dark Side, and later on Tatooine, knowing he’s hurt and been hurt by Anakin, doesn’t know what to do

after giving you the best I had / tell me what to give after that

again again, all the years they’ve given. all the love they had. everyone they knew & loved. gone.

leave it all behind / and there is happiness

#fiona speaks #what do i even tag this?#my writing #i guess?#HA anyway i refuse to proof read this or reread it bc WOW it's long #and if you chose to open this post and read the whole thing then you're probably somewhat used to my ramblings #hopefully i articulated all my thoughts well #bc i have so many thoughts about this song so i hope they came across!!#if yall have any additional thoughts lemme know cause this song is just UGH *chef's kiss*#wow i just said the word thoughts three times #fun fact! this song is taylor's only song in the key of b #which means she has a song in EVERY key #isn't that cool?#anyway this was so fun i get the hype with doing this #thanks to daisy caroline and mel and honestly so many others for THEIR wonderful analyses of taylor swift songs and tcw #which inspired me to actually make a post about it instead of continuing to let this doc sit in my drive #i originally wrote this on wait one sec lemme check #december 28 and then did one w more words on feb 15 #but now it's here! in one (mostly coherent) post #oof anyway #taylor swift #star wars #taylor swift and tcw #can you tell i'm procrastinating writing my fic exchange?#song analysis

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laughing-with-god · 3 years

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The Unsaid Vow (Prologue)

Synopsis- You always knew when you weren't wanted. And the way things are going in your marriage with Jungkook, a divorce is looking more and more likely. While he's getting closer to a woman at work that you're certain he's having an affair with, you're planning your escape with your four-year-old son. However, five years of marriage did not expose you to a certain side of your husband. A side of Jungkook that only gets triggered when you try to leave and break apart your perfect 'family'.

Warnings- Yandere behavior, graphic language, violence/murder, women bashing on other women, heavily implied infidelity, bad parenting, absent father, broken family vibes, very slow buildup bc Jungkook doesn't really snap until you leave him so just give him a min lol, inexperienced author writing for a four-year-old (I never wrote for a kid before pls gimme a break), also I chose my future son's name for this fic but pls feel free to name him whatever you want :)

Slow burn Yandere Husband Jungkook

Word Count; 5.4k

Unlike the vast majority of married couples, neither you nor Jungkook donned wedding rings.

Never in your five years of marriage did you regret this decision, given it was brought upon by you and your husband’s lack of funds for fancy wedding bands at the time of your rushed marriage.

Well, you were never annoyed....until tonight, that is.

The scene before you was exceptionally intimate, so much so that you felt the instinctual need to look away in respect of the two before you.

The woman was gorgeous, effortlessly attracting all the attention the small conference room had to offer. In addition to this natural charisma spurred on by her borderline enchanting looks, her short and skin-tight red dress showed off her pleasantly curvy body. Her long, silky, and jet-black hair was pulled back into an elegant ponytail that provided a simple background for her darling features. Utterly doll-like was her face; petite, creamy in complexion with bright doe eyes and berry-pink lips.

Such a beautiful woman was currently in the arms of an equally, if not more so, attractive man.

He was tall and slender, yet not at all lanky given his sturdy build that was a testament to his strict workout regime. His olive skin was complimented with occasional tattoos, a mix of faded and fresh ink that you knew like the back of your hand despite only the tats on his hand currently showing in his crisp Valentino suit. His mid-length inky black hair was down to frame his sharp face, and indeed it was a very handsome one consisting of full eyebrows, bow-like lips, a fleshy yet impish nose, and two large, yet seemingly bottomless, raven orbs.

This man had his arms encircling the middle of the mysterious woman, her expression lifting into a light-hearted giggle as she leaned forward to whisper something in his ear.

Whatever she said must’ve been amusing to the man, given his usual stoic facade briefly melted away as he allowed a small smile at her words, his pearly round teeth peeking out for a split-second appearance.

If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that these two were lovers.

But there was only one problem with this scene.

That was your husband, Jungkook.

And that woman in his arms was not you.

As if sensing your distress and wanting to soothe your well-founded suspicion, Jungkook pulled away from the woman and ran his gaze across the room- only stopping when he spotted you. Your spouse then gestured at you, the girl following his line of sight and landing on you and your pitiful spot by the snack table. Her joyful expression briefly dropped for a blink-and-you'll-miss-it second, but she quickly plastered on another grin and nodded. The two then strode their way over to you, barely giving you enough time to steel your nerves and muster a polite purse of the lips.

Before you knew it, the woman was right in front of you with your partner at her side instead of yours. Much to your dismay, she was only more attractive up close, and you narrowly held back a grimace as she held out a hand in introduction. You took it and shook it lifelessly.

“Hello, you must be Mrs. Jeon. I’m Sana, Jungkook’s colleague.” Even her voice was pretty, musical and light to the ears.

“H-Hi, nice to meet you but please call me Y/n.” A brief and awkward pause as Sana briefly sized you up and down. “Um, Jungkook has never mentioned you….” you trailed off, side-eyeing your husband in hopes he would intervene and add context to this random goddess he’s thrust upon you.

Jungkook gracefully took his cue and explained, “Sana transferred from another branch out of the city and has only been with us for five months. I’m her case supervisor and have been taking care of her, showing her the ropes and whatnot.”

Sana didn’t even spare you a glance as she fondly looked up at your husband, coyly biting her lip and saying in a much softer tone that could've been just for his ears only, “And he’s been really good at taking care of me.”

You didn’t consider yourself a jealous stay-at-home wife who obsessed over the tiniest details between her husband and other women, but the double meaning behind her badly-whispered comment was enough to make you splutter in disbelief. However before you could even gather up the courage to ask just what the hell ‘taking care of me’ consisted of, two new faces waltzed up and joined the conversation.

“Are you all enjoying this fabulous Christmas party?” A tall, broad-shouldered but nice-looking man asked in a tone of familiar amicability.

You thankfully smiled up at him, having met him many times before.

His name was Jin, and he was the one who got Jungkook this job.

It occurred about five years ago when you first told Jungkook that you were pregnant. Being the romantic but overall good guy that Jungkook was, he insisted that you two get married so that your child could have parents who were at least husband and wife. In addition it would also lessen the judgment in your two families, which at the time was extremely appealing to you. You had agreed to marry on one condition: after running to the courthouse you two would need to move in together in a decent apartment with a room for the nursery. But getting an apartment would mean month-to-month rent, and Jungkook’s tattooing gigs weren’t stable enough to ensure that.

Jin was originally a friend of Jungkook’s older brother, but when he heard through the grapevine about the issue, he bought Jungkook a couple of suits and offered him a job at the corporation he worked at.

Now Jungkook made more than enough money to support your little family, and it was all because Jin took a chance on a college drop-out and his knocked-up girlfriend.

You opened your mouth to respond but were cut off by the unknown lady beside Jin.

“I’d say a little too much fun if anything. Sana and Jungkook, we get that you're the infamous office couple but maybe tone it down a bit, huh?” She joked while raising her brows at the close proximity between the two.

A long and tortuous silence swept the scene.

Jin glanced at you, pity swimming in his usually carefree eyes.

Not trusting your voice to say anything and desperately wanting to hide your face from the piercing eyes, you distracted yourself by taking calculated sips of watered-down eggnog.

“Daehyun...this is actually Y/n, Jungkook’s wife,” Jin told the lady in an uncomfortable voice.

You didn’t know what stung more, the fact that this stranger thought that there was more chemistry between Sana and your husband than with you, or that it was Jin who corrected this mistake and not Jungkook himself.

“O-Oh, well it’s nice to meet you.” Daehyun awkwardly said to you while avoiding direct eye contact.

You offered a tight smile, “Pleasure.”

Whatever gratitude you could’ve had for Daehyun’s clear embarrassment quickly vanished when the woman went on to continue, “I’m sorry. Jungkook never mentioned being married and he doesn’t wear a ring so I didn’t even know. I bet it must be interesting for his housewife to meet his office wife though, right?”

She laughed, not realizing that she only succeeded in putting a foot in her mouth right before stomping it all over your pesky little heart. The group didn’t seem to share your uneasiness, all three of them politely chuckling along to the lukewarm joke at your expense. Once again, you focused on your dwindling beverage to avoid the burden of speaking or even facing them directly, too scared that your miserable expression would be unanimously inspected.

“Well, we just came over to recruit you all for some karaoke!” Jin cheerfully announced, clearly trying to change the subject, “There’s a machine in the break-out room and it’s more fun to sing with a group.”

“More like you want an audience.” Jungkook wittingly teased, a handsome smirk on his face as Sana playfully scolded him with a push to the chest.

“I’ll take your jabs now Kookie because I know they stem from your insecurity that I can actually upstage you in the vocals department.” Jin rebutted in good nature, even letting your husband’s old nickname slip.

Daehyun and Sana both guffawed at this declaration, exaggerated disbelief present on their faces.

“Jungkook is the best singer in the office. He’ll upstage you without even trying.” Daehyun said in a tenor of utter confidence.

“Only one way to find out!” Jin brushed the comment off, pointing to the direction of the assumed breakout room, “Karaoke anyone?”

The so-called office wife nodded enthusiastically, taking your husband’s arm and looking up at him to plead, “Can we do a duet of that one song we like?”

Jungkook, for the first time in seemingly hours, shot you with a questioning gaze.

Be married to someone for a while and you’ll learn how to decipher what they’re trying to say with just mere looks. Your husband was wordlessly inquiring if you were going to join, if he should go along with the group or if you two should break away and do something else.

The ball was finally in your court.

Not wanting to be rude but needing to get away from these people before you lost your cool, you decided on a subtle excuse.

“I need a refill, but maybe we can meet you all later?” You said, shaking your empty paper cup as if to prove your case.

“Oh, well the drinks are right behind you.” Sana condescendingly pointed out, tightening her hold on your husband and began steering him towards the exit, “We’ll save a seat for you.”

Bewildered, you watched as Jungkook obediently followed her lead with the Daehyun girl trailing behind.

He didn’t even spare you a glance.

You wanted to be angry.

You wanted to storm up to your husband, yank him out of the clutches of his colleagues and practically drag him back home under the premise that he would never speak to Sana ever again.

But instead of a righteous rage fueled by the marital vows you two took, utter exhaustion bestowed upon you and prevented any instigation on your part.

Maybe earlier in your marriage you would’ve fought for his attention, but now you simply just wanted to go home and lick your wounds with the help of a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream while self-obsessing over Sana’s outrageous attractiveness. After all, who could blame any hot-blooded man for choosing that goddess over you? What could you possibly do but lean back and accept that she was the obvious choice?

Other than her being a knockout beauty while you were merely average on your best day, she had other qualities that made her a more appealing catch. She was most likely younger than you, obviously fit, more ambitious and professionally driven than you, and presumably has no kids.

Meanwhile, you were just an old stay-at-home mom who lived off of her husband’s paychecks while he fucked his coworkers behind her oblivious back.

Before you could draw more detailed comparisons between Sana and yourself, you felt a large hand place itself on the middle of your back, successfully guiding your attention to the only person who bothered staying by your side.

Jin smiled sadly at you, sympathy shadowing his expression as he gestured with his other hand to the empty cup still in your hold. “Let’s get you some more eggnog.”

You nodded wordlessly, still speechless from the interaction, and allowed the taller man to guide you towards the snack table. Jin then took your cup and refilled it himself, providing you the opportunity to pick at the catered food in some cheap attempt at stress eating. By the time Jin came back with a full cup, you were halfway done with a sugar cookie and eyeing the meatballs next.

“Here ya go,” Jin said as he handed over the drink to you. You took it and nodded in thanks but kept your eyes glued to the food, not wanting him to see just how defeated and tired your face probably was. But, Jin wasn’t going to let the whole thing go. “Y/n….I know what you saw and heard looks really bad but trust me….nothing is going on between Sana and Jungkook.”

You snorted. “It doesn’t just look bad, Jin. It was like they were practically rubbing it in my face. Him having an affair isn’t the problem, it’s the way they’re not even bothering to keep it down. The least they could do is be discreet.”

Jin’s jaw slightly dropped, “‘Him having an affair isn’t the problem’? Y/n, do you even hear yourself? Of course that would be a problem! Do you not care about your own marriage anymore?”

And there it was.

The big question.

Did you truly even care about this marriage?

Well, let’s look at the facts.

One: The disrespect of his alleged mistress was more offensive to you than the fact that she was a mistress.

Two: Jungkook dragging you along to this office Christmas party was the first time in over a year that he bothered to take you out.

Three: You two had humble beginnings and could barely afford food, much less wedding bands when you first got married, but now he was a very wealthy man and had no excuse for not buying you or himself a ring. Unless, of course, he enjoyed acting single around other women.

Four: And on top of all this, it had to be factored in how distant he has been with overwhelming work hours that prevented any alone time with your husband. Sex with Jungkook has been off the table for almost a year now.

But did any of this really bother you until tonight? The answer was a resounding no. You were willing to take all those burdens in stride but tonight it wasn’t just about the fact that you were the unwanted wife Jungkook got sacked with, it was the fact that you were humiliated and forced to face the type of girl Jungkook should’ve been married to all along. That was all you were truly upset about.

The conclusion that you indeed didn’t care about your marriage and haven’t in some time now hit you in a sudden wave, but in no way were you shocked.

Voice shaky and brittle, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with Jin and say the one thing you always secretly thought but never dared utter out loud. “I-I guess I always expected it to end like this. When we were younger, he was always the popular one and all the girls wanted him. We were only dating for three months when I got pregnant, and if it weren’t for our son he probably would’ve dumped me eventually and left for another girl. But, he stuck around for his kid because he’s a good father. And I’ve been nothing but a burden to him for a while now.”

Tears began to blur your vision, forcing you to quickly duck down and quietly sip at your drink so as to not embarrass yourself even more.

You heard a shuffle and suddenly Jin was holding you, using both of his lengthy arms to cage you in and rest you against his broad chest. It had been a long time since a man had held you like that, and you practically went boneless at the contact. You closed your eyes and tried to will away the incoming tears, even going so far as to solely focus on the scent of Jin’s cologne as he soothingly said, “Y/n, listen closely to what I’m about to say. You and Hugo were never a burden to Jungkook, and you two never will be. Your marriage was sudden, but it doesn’t make it less valid than any other marriage out there. Jungkook has been with you for so long, he just doesn’t realize when other women are interested in him because he’s been off the market forever. But I promise you, if I knew for even a second that he cheated, I would tell you right away.”

You didn’t say anything.

Although Jin’s words were comforting, they weren’t necessarily true. A marriage that started from a healthy courtship and true love instead of inconvenient circumstances was of course more valid than yours. And even though you were sure of Jin’s honesty and loyalty to you, Jungkook could’ve easily kept his affair secret from Jin as well.

However, you didn’t wish to concern Jin anymore. You already put him through too much awkwardness tonight and didn’t want to keep him by your side as some sort of emotional sponsor any longer than you already have. Jin always loved parties and was the life of any one he was invited to, even if it was just a lame annual office gathering. You then felt guilty for putting Jin in a situation where he would even have to console you when he should be out enjoying karaoke with the rest of his coworkers.

You promptly pulled away from Jin and wiped at your face. He released you and also took a step back, carefully studying you for any signs of further turmoil. Once sure that your face was acceptably dry, you gazed back up at him and offered a thankful smile. “Thanks Jin, I’m sorry I just dumped all of that on you. I really have to use the ladies' room though, can you point me to it?”

“It’s right by the conference room,” Jin informed, pointing out the general direction for you. You nodded and took a few steps toward it before he grasped your wrist to stop you and ask, “Do you want me to wait for you?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just find you and Jungkook when I’m out. Go and join the others for karaoke.”

Jin nodded but seemed unsure.

You didn’t look back to see if he actually went to follow the others, instead just advancing to the restrooms, secretly looking forward to some alone time even if it had to come from a public bathroom.

Once you entered the restroom you were relieved to find it completely empty, you weren’t sure if you could handle another run-in with Jungkook’s female colleagues. They all seemed to have a personal vendetta against you.

Instantly, you dashed to the mirror to inspect your makeup, assuming at least the mascara was ruined from your little cry. Thankfully, the damage was minimal and you were able to clean the smudges up with a damp napkin. You focused all your attention on the dreadfully small task, trying not to study your reflection too much given it would just conjure up more mental comparisons to all the other prettier women you encountered that night.

Yet the small task couldn’t last a lifetime, and you had to resort to looking at your phone in search of things to do. You weren’t emotionally ready to go out and search for your husband, so you wanted to prolong your time in the bathroom. Although it hasn’t been that long since you left the house, you decided to text the babysitter for any updates about your son.

To Emily: Hey, is everything okay with Hugo?

It only took about 40 seconds for the teenage neighbor girl to text back an answer, clearly on top of things and overly eager to provide any updates.

Emily: Yes! He ate his dinner, took his bath and we’re about to get ready for bed.

Your motherly instincts were satisfied with that response, but it didn’t do anything to subdue your desire to return back home. Your thumbs briefly hovered over the keypad, somewhat hesitant with the next text you were about to send.

To Emily: Great, thanks again for doing this. Listen, I think we might head back home sooner than we thought. Don’t worry tho, I’ll still give you the pay for the full four hours.

Before you could wait for a response from her, the sound of multiple incoming footsteps interrupted the steady silence in the restroom. Muffled female conversation could also be heard, the slight laughter and bickering amongst a group of women approaching the bathroom. Your fight or flight instinct was triggered, and to avoid any more awkward encounters you rushed to the nearest stall and shut the door- fully prepared to wait out the faceless group of female colleagues.

You heard the restroom door swish open before the women burst in, chatting and giggling with their heels clicking against the tile floor. One of the unknown females made way to the stall beside you, the others presumably hovering by the mirror if the sudden comments about their appearances were anything to go by. You quietly sighed and pulled out your phone again, ready to drown out their office politics talk.

Only for the conversation to somehow steer towards you.

“Did you see her?”

“Of course, I was very confused, to be honest.” One of them replied. “I mean….look at Jungkook and you just assume that whoever he’s with is drop-dead gorgeous, and she was just eh.”

“Yeah, she was pretty plain. What was her name again?”

“Y/n.” A third voice cut in, this one eerily familiar to you.

You glued a hand over your mouth to silence your gasp.

It was Sana.

“Did he ever mention her around you? You are the closest to him in the office Sana, and we didn’t even know he had a wife until tonight.”

“No, I didn’t know until tonight either.”

“What?! That’s insane. Literally all the time he spends with you: getting coffee, buying you lunch, driving you home after late nights, and he conveniently never mentions that he has a wife at home?”

“That’s suspicious. But I guess if I had a dog like that at home, I’d never mention her either.”

Cruel laughter from all of them.

The toilet from the stall next to you flushed, then opened as a new voice entered the discussion while she approached the sinks.

“It’s more than suspicious. He doesn’t even wear a wedding ring. And he’s so close to Sana but never mentioned that he’s married?” A pause as she washed her hands. “It’s obvious what he’s trying to do. Jungkook is trying to have an affair with Sana.”

Although this exchange was extremely hurtful to you, you felt somewhat relieved that you weren’t the only one to see what your husband was doing.

A pause hung in the air as none of the women spoke for a minute, they were willing to gossip but apparently outright declaring the obvious was a step too far for them.

Eventually, one of them chimed in with their own observation.

“Can you blame him? Sana you’re the most beautiful person in the office and you look so good next to him anyway. Much better than that cow Y/n.”

Another round of obnoxious laughter that broke your heart.

“C’mon guys. We gotta head back. Jungkook is gonna get anxious if Sana is away for too long.” Someone teased.

They all murmured in agreement, heading towards the exit as a group before one stopped them with a final question.

“Wait, Sana. If Jungkook does want to have an affair with you, what are you going to do?”

Although you couldn’t physically see Sana, you practically heard the smirk on her face as she said, “Who says we already aren’t having one?”

Needless to say, you ditched the Christmas party almost immediately after the bathroom incident.

You texted Jungkook a white lie about Emily struggling with Hugo, although a good father would’ve known something was up because your son had never given babysitters any trouble before. But luckily, your husband also wasn’t doing so hot in the dad department either.

You would’ve felt bad for not telling the truth if the truth wasn’t so fucking embarrassing.

“Hey, I’m gonna go home to cry like a little girl because I caught your coworkers talking shit about me. Oh, and also your little girlfriend accidentally let it slip that you’ve been fucking her this whole time. K talk to ya later!”

You grimaced at the thought of actually sending that text.

Sure it’s what that cheating bastard deserves, but you just weren’t emotionally ready for that fight yet. Especially after the night you endured, you needed some time to pick yourself up and figure out what to do next.

Divorce was the next logical step, but you were financially dependent on Jungkook. If you moved out and took Hugo with you, where would you two stay? How could you afford to be a single parent? And if Jungkook were to try to fight you for custody or the divorce in general, you would need a damn good lawyer. Unfortunately, lawyers weren’t cheap, especially one that stood a chance against Jungkook and all his wealth.

Your shoulders sagged with the imaginary weight of all these burdens.

When you entered the high-rise penthouse that you called home, you were surprised to see Emily anxiously pacing the foyer in waiting for your arrival.

“Hey, how was Hugo?” You greeted politely, already opening your clutch to pull out the agreed-upon salary.

“M-Mrs. Jeon, I swear I tried to have him in bed by eight like you said but he’s being stubborn and said he won’t go to sleep until you come back and read to him-” The teenager rushed out all at once, clearly nervous that you would scold her.

You held a hand out to stop her rambles, using your other hand to give her the money, and offered her what you hoped was a comforting smile, “It’s okay, Em. Thanks for doing this on such short notice. Why don’t you run home now and try to enjoy your Christmas Eve?”

Emily looked relieved that you weren’t mad, gratefully taking the cash before grabbing her jacket and shoes to make her exit. “Thanks so much for this Mrs. Jeon. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas.” You farewelled while walking the young girl out, locking the door behind her.

You turned around and proceeded down a long hallway that led to the bedrooms, stopping at the door beside the master room which belonged to your four-year-old son. You opened it to peer inside, the familiar deep blue walls with painted-on sea creatures greeting you back, swiftly reminding you once more of Hugo’s obsession with the ocean.

Your son was bundled up in a twin bed so big that it practically drowned him, his small frame barely being recognizable in the large fish-printed duvet wrapped around his tiny frame, only his small and adorable face peeking out to stare right back at you.

Hugo was essentially a carbon copy of Jungkook. At first you were somewhat resentful about this, how was it possible that you carried a baby for nine months and he came out with absolutely none of your features? But after a while of watching Hugo grow up and come into his own slowly but surely, you were pacified by the conclusion that while he may look exactly like his father, his personality and heart took after you.

“Dumpling, why did Emily say you were giving her a hard time and wouldn’t go to bed?” You asked gently, sitting by his side and petting his black hair.

‘Dumpling’ was a nickname you chose for Hugo since you first found out you were pregnant with him. It stemmed from your sudden pregnancy craving to eat dumplings and nothing else, you once even going two straight weeks surviving off the food. There were many times where Jungkook had to bribe you into eating other things, playing on your guilt for not providing your baby all the nutrition he needed. But even now ‘Dumpling’ still stuck, if Hugo’s chubby cheeks were anything to go by.

“Mommy, I-I’m sorry but-” His big doe eyes looked up at you in teary guilt, “I really needed you here. It was a nece-necess-”

“Necessity, bub.” You finished for him, grinning at his attempt at a big word.

Part of you wanted to scold the boy for being difficult, but you didn’t have the heart to. Lately, Hugo has been more clingy to you than ever before. Yet it was practically impossible to punish him because Hugo has always been a good kid and you knew deep down that he didn’t act out unless there was something else going on. You suspected that it had something to do with the lack of his father’s presence that forced him to hold onto you like his life depended on it.

“Well try not to do it again, okay? Emily is a nice girl and she’s just following my orders when she tells you to go to bed.” You said, ducking down to peck the crown of his head and continue running your fingers through his hair.

Hugo nodded in understanding but ultimately stayed silent, basking in your cuddles.

All was silent for a passing moment, and while Hugo enjoyed his mother’s touch, your mind gradually returned to the turmoil that was your marriage.

A sudden epiphany struck you and bit your lip as you debated an idea.

Should you expose your son to your future plan?

The victim of any divorce has always been the children who were left behind. And the last thing you wanted to do was blindside Hugo. Perhaps you should play the hypothetical game just to see where your son’s head was at? It went without saying that Hugo was closer to you than Jungkook and you were more of a parent than your husband. But still, every kid deserved to have a say in their parents’ divorce.

“Bub, how would you feel if….it was just me and you?” You hesitantly inquired.

“What do you mean mommy?” Hugo titled his head in bewilderment and craned his neck to look back up at you.

“What if me and you went away to live together?” You clarified.

“Like a va-vayca-”

“Vacation? And no. But forever. Just me, you and no one else.” You whispered, as if Jungkook himself would storm in and catch you planning your escape with the toddler.

“Oh.” A pause as you could practically hear the mechanisms in his four-year-old brain trying to work out the logistics of what you just proposed. “Okay.”

The nonchalance in his youthful voice had you taken aback.

“It’s a really big decision, Hugo. You wouldn’t mind...not living with daddy anymore, right? You would hardly ever see him, dumpling.”

The boy shifted to lean more of his body against you, essentially resting against you with his head on your chest as he said, “But it’s like that already, mommy.”

Your heart broke.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer to you, feeling a maternal instinct to comfort and protect.

“Okay Dumpling. I need you to promise me not to tell daddy what we talked about.”

“”Kay.” Hugo yawned and closed his eyes, inhaling deep breaths of your scent and beginning the process of falling asleep. “When do we leave?”

“It’ll take some time, bub. You start school in a few months, so mommy will try to find a job while you’re there.” You told him, not bothering to try to explain the concept of a lawyer or apartment deposits on top of that. “But we can do this. It has to be a secret but you're my partner in crime.”

“Like spies?”

You chuckled, “Yeah, like spies. Promise to work with mommy in utter secrecy?”

You held up a pinky, one that Hugo grasped with his own.

“Promise.”

Author’s Note: So....A while ago before I took my long ass hiatus, I did a poll for which yandere story I should write next. The Unsaid Vow won but that was around the same time that shit hit the fan in my life. Recently was scrolling through my notes on my phone and found some of the plot points for this story and I needed a lil break from QQ. Plus I know so many ppl were hyped for this concept so....Here ya go lol. This is kinda short but it’s just a set up, Chapter one’s plot line will start a few months after this when Hugo will start kindergarten and Y/n will actually start looking in to jobs, lawyers and apartments. Also I’m sorry but I’m really bad at writing for kids lol, and I absolutely refuse to write that gross ass baby talk so just pretend your son is a lil genius okay? Also srry Once but I needed really pretty girls to be villians in my story so yeah, Twice girls in here aren’t likable but aren’t reflective of how i actually feel about them lol.

Big thanks to @sushireads once again for creating the cover art for this fic. They literally are becoming my go-to for fic art.

And my beta readers @bigbuffjoonie and @mustardpop! They beta’d for QQ and I came to them really early about this fic. They were with me since the beginning and have given me advice with creative choices to just simple grammar. They easily could’ve leaked the first draft of this too but they didn’t and kept it secret for a while. I was really insecure about getting out of my comfort zone with this plot but they really guided me.

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stranger-nightmare · 2 years

Note

If you find the muse I think that the new Adele song 'Oh my god' fits perfect for a Druig story 😍 I love that song atm and think about him a lot when I listen to it.

"Oh my God, I can't believe it

Out of all the people in the world

What is the likelihood of jumping

Out of my life and into your arms?"

𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐬

Pairing: Druig x Mortal!Reader

Summary: Druig has spent centuries alone, never fully connecting with anyone, until you. Druig counts himself lucky that of all his lifetimes spent on this planet, he finally managed to find you.

Warnings: this is the fluffiest little thing I have ever written🥺 kinda angsty, also very brief depiction of smut so minors DNI please

A/N: my requests were technically closed when this request came in but I’m allowing this bc I really love your account @redroomproperty 🙈🥰😂🖤 I’ve actually never really listened to Adele outside of her singles so this was an interesting change for me. I had the song on repeat as I wrote this but I still mostly focused on the chorus lyrics you provided here as my main source of inspiration. I hope you like it!🖤✨

“What?” You crinkle your nose at Druig. “Why are you staring at me like that?” You question him.

You’re currently snuggled in bed together; you sat up against the headboard, him lying down with his head in your lap. You’re stroking his hair softly as he traces shapes up your bare thighs with his fingers. You’d both been sat in blissful silence, the only sounds coming from the city surrounding your shared apartment. You’d been completely lost in your own train of thoughts when you’d noticed Druig staring at you so intently you thought his gaze might burn through your skin.

Druig shrugs lightly in response to your question. “I just like looking at you” he answers eventually, continuing to scan your face, the most serene smile gracing his face.

“Hmph” you scoff gently, not believing his answer. “I think there’s more to it than that” you tease lightly, booping him on the nose with your finger. He just shrugs again, chuckling to himself softly.

“Whaaat?” You whine, also half laughing. “What is it?” you plead.

“I’m just thinking about us” he says almost nonchalantly. Your eyebrows crease worriedly.

“What about us?” You ask, a small panic suddenly settling over you.

“No, it’s nothing bad my love” he reassures you quickly. He sits up, twisting around so he can face you.

“I’m just thinking about how lucky I am to have found you” he says earnestly. You crinkle your nose again, almost uncomfortable by the sudden sincerity and intensity of his words.

“I’m serious, my love” he carries on. He gently places his hands on your face, caressing your cheeks. You grip his wrists with your hands gently, stroking the back of his hands with your thumbs.

“Out of all the lifetimes I’ve lived,” he continues, "out of all the people in the world, what was the likelihood of jumping out of my life and into your arms?” he breathes. The beauty of his words almost takes your breath away.

“I have lived on this planet for so many years. I have lived in so many different places, met an infinite amount of people, and yet I always felt somehow alone in this world. I always felt like an outsider, unable to really settle amongst these people. I have spent literal centuries alone” he carries on, whispering earnestly. You stare at him, tears threatening your eyes at his heartbreaking revelation.

"Until you” he states finally. “The best decision I ever made was leaving my life in the Amazonian and moving here to be with you.” You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face at his words.

Druig goes quiet again, a slight crease appearing between his eyebrows, as if he was searching for the right words.

“I think perhaps it’s easier if I just show you” he whispers finally. Now a crease takes place in your forehead as you raise an eyebrow slightly at him in question.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, a sudden serious edge taking over his voice.

“With my life” you answer instinctively. A small but somehow sad smile takes over his face.

“I am not asking you to trust me with your life. I am asking you trust me with your mind” he says as he traces a finger over your forehead, down your nose, gently brushing over your lips before he returns his hand to palm your cheek again. You push your head forward against his hands.

“I trust you Druig” you assure him. His smile grows ever so slightly at your confirmation.

He then leans forward, placing his forehead against yours, your noses brushing lightly. You see his eyes begin to glow gold as your head suddenly empties of thoughts. You close your eyes, allowing your mind to be taken over.

You’re suddenly seeing yourself.

You’re in a bar in Camden, you can see Sersi and Dane next to you at the table you’re sharing. You see yourself look up and meet the eyes you were currently looking through. You see yourself smile bashfully.

It doesn’t take you long to realise this was the first night you and Druig met. The night when Sersi had finally convinced her grumpy ‘cousin’ to visit her in London and meet her boyfriend and her best friend.

You were seeing yourself through Druig’s eyes. All the memories you share, suddenly seen through his perspective.

The image swims, moving on to later that night when Dane is drunkenly singing karaoke in the bar as Sersi claps in the front row. You’re sat back at the bar with Druig, enjoying the scene from a distance. You remember this moment vividly yourself. You and Druig had talked almost all night. You’d been so enwrapped in your conversation it was like the entire bar had disappeared around you, as if all that existed in that moment was you and Druig. From his perspective now it seemed as if the situation read the same to him as well. This memory showing nothing but a blurred background surrounding the vivid image of you smiling and laughing at whatever Druig had said at the time.

The picture swims again.

Another night in Camden. This time it was your first date, the first time Druig had taken you out without Sersi and Dane as company. You had spent the entire day showing him around Camden. The markets, the stables, all of the hidden alleys you’d discovered over the years. Your date had lasted all day and went well into the night, the two of you not wanting the moment to end. Of course it had eventually though.

The image jumps to the end of that night, Druig walking you to the door of your apartment. You can see yourself standing outside your apartment door, looking at the floor awkwardly. You see Druig’s gaze dip from your eyes to your lips, flitting between the two. You can see yourself continuing to ramble awkwardly. Finally you see Druig’s arms reach out to grab your arms, pulling you against him, the picture going to black as you feel lips brush against yours. You feel your lips brushing against Druig’s.

The images start to swim again. More memories of Druig’s, more moments with you.

The first argument you had. You yelling with tears in your eyes.

The moment when you made up, you looking at him contentedly as he placed a kiss to your forehead.

You feel a pain in your chest. Looking at your tearful self you realised it the moment Druig had to return to his Amazonian compound.

You’re suddenly in an unfamiliar environment, a wooden cabin you’d never seen before. It was Druig’s back in the Amazonian forest. You suddenly feel the freedom and exhilaration in the moment he made the decision to pack up his life in the Amazonian to move to London and be with you.

You see your new empty apartment. You see yourself in Druig’s arms as he spins you around happily.

You see yourself cooking your first meal in the apartment, the gaze peeking over your shoulder as Druig had wrapped himself around you from behind.

You then see yourself laying on your bed. Your legs spread wide. You’re looking up at yourself, the gaze situated down between your thighs. You see your body arching, you breasts pushed up into the air. You can feel your own hand twisting in Druig’s hair tightly as his tongue buries itself inside you.

Now you see yourself writhing in the bed beneath Druig’s gaze. Your eyes are closed, your face in a state of complete bliss. You see the perspective jolt as Druig thrusted in and out of you. You watch yourself fall apart under his touch, your mouth hanging open, your eyebrows knitted together. You can feel your nails dig into Druig’s back.

A thousand moments flash in your mind until at last you’re looking up at yourself again. You can feel hands playing with your hair.

You realise suddenly that this was from just minutes ago. It was your hands playing with Druig’s hair that you were feeling. You were seeing your content face from where Druig was resting in your lap. You see your nose crinkle the moment you had noticed the way he was staring at you.

The image suddenly fades, an inky black taking over the picture.

You feel yourself spilling back into your own mind. Your eyes flutter open just in time to see the gold fading from Druig’s. He looks at you moment longer before speaking again.

“My beautiful, beautiful y/n. Can you see how much I love you? Can you feel it?” He whispers. A tear escapes you as you nod your head against his.

“Yes” you whisper, your voice almost breaking. “And I love you equally in return you know” you breathe before gently placing your lips on his.

—————

Masterlist

A/N: okay so I actually really like this song now, thank you Lea for giving me this request and making me listen to it!!🖤✨ Also apologies it took a little while for me to get it done, but I really hope you liked it!🥺🥰 Also no I will never stop with the ‘my beautiful beautiful’ line, idc

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fictiophillia · 2 years

Note

Heya! This is the first time I‘m making a request so I hope I‘m doing this right ^^‘

I really like your writing with Mammon and an INTP MC, and I was wondering whether or not it would be ok to ask for Mams with an INFP Mc? And maybe instead of smut there could be some comfort? I‘m just really stressed rn and he‘s my comfort character :‘)

If not it‘s totally ok and I hope you have an amazing day ^^ <3

HEKAMDIAKSBSKSBJA OFCC I'm so happy that y'all like my writing lmao rn it's 05:03 am I just woken up and I couldn't sleep, although I saw it is for comfort and I shall do it now. I couldn't choose a song, there were many good ones (when y'all realize the songs are the same mbti lol) and I'm running out of battery :') sorry if it's short btw

Mammon comforting an INFP reader

warnings : no horny time in this one 😞 only fluff fluff cuddles and fluff

gender: neutral

You two would definitely be the cutest pair in all Devildom.

It's like you share the same mind.

"What if mayonnaise came in cans??"

"That would suck because you can't microwave metal"

"Good morning to everyone except those two."

He loves how caring you are with him.

He doesn't get why you overthink all the time but he'll be there comforting and reassuring every time it happens.

You two were a match made in heaven *drums*

Han han got it? bc heaven- and he's a demon-

I'm going to shut up now-

Any physical contact such as hugs, holding hands, laying his head on your lap/chest, he loves it all<3

If you're the one for physical contact tho? that's ok too!

He'll be sending you those love-ass crackhead memes at 4am

"Mammon it's 4am"

"Ya saying I can't love ya at 4am???"

"Mammon we literally have to get up in a couple of hours"

Maybe your not the only one overthinking c:

Although he overthinks mainly because of insecurities he has gained from living with his brothers so make sure to comfort him too about that later, as he is always here to comfort you <3

Comfort time wouldn't include much moving, I think you'd stay home and in the literal meaning chilling and Netflix.

(If you're ok with contact) He'd pull you to lay your head on his shoulder, laying his head on top of yours- as much as he'd like to be the only laying on your shoulder.

(If you're not) He'd crack a joke every now and then just to see you smile.

He just loves you so much and he can't help but tell other people about it.

"Mammon it is the 29th time you've said it today, WE WOKEN UP 3 HOURS AGO-"

You can see his eyes shinning when he sees you across the room 🥺❤️

Talking about shinning-

You could be smaller, weaker, even softer than him and he'd still see you as his knight in a shining armor.

He'd also give you anything shinning he took interest in, could be a bracelet, could be a rock, it's really random lmao.

You make him think outside the box, you take out the most creative side of him.

You can see right through his charm when he's trying to get out of situations such as Lucifer's scolding.

You teach him to be more thoughtful and observant, not so be impulsive when doing things.

He takes on adventures and takes you out of your funk of overthinking.

He pushes your limits to help you grow.

He helps you to be more confident in social situations.

You're both very chaotic already and together you're just creating more chaos (in a good way!!!)

"How do I flirt with someone???"

"Throw rocks at them"

"Thanks dude."

You both spend time trying new things as you both hate repetitions.

You both hate being restrained and limited, so you're free around each other, he trust you and you trust him too.

He's your demon and you're his human<3

115 notes · View notes

littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

Text

I live in the neighbourhood

When Y/N moved to Hampstead she was unaware of the implications the decision would have on the course of the rest of her life.

Harry is Y/N’s eccentric neighbour who sweeps her up in the whirlwind that is his life

this gif bc its maybe my favorite clip of him EVER holy fuck - this is the harry of my dreams this is the harry of i live in the neighbourhood

HEY YALL it’s been a minute and I missed yall so much and I’m just about to be on break so maybe i’ll be back to posting writing regularly but with school its so hard and I think I’ve been working on this for months so yeah <3 lol PLS PLS PLS leave me feedback and reblogs and that stuff bc otherwise my writing just feels...empty and you have no idea the smile i get when even just the tags say like “god this was everything” it can be anything honestly but it keeps my passion up. Thank you again and hope you enjoy.

Word Count: ~10k | Warnings: swearing probably? no smut (yet), rich and famous harry - mentions of Taylor Swif

She considered herself an average young woman in her mid twenties. She liked screaming Taylor Swift and Megan Thee Stallion songs alone in her car and thrifting on weekends. She hated cable because of commercials and when doordash didn’t deliver all of her order. She had asthma when she worked out or the air quality was bad. She had dumb celebrity crushes that her friends and her still laughed over with every new instagram post. She had hopes and dreams she had yet to achieve and she had past trauma that many would never know about, especially at first glance.

Sure, she was successful. She would admit that. How else would she be able to afford even the modest little house she had found in Hampstead? She had studied international business in college and hopped on a plane to London the first chance she got. After a few years of a more than decent paycheck and an advantageous stimulus check from her kind parents, she was able to move out of her starter flat into the suburbs. The definitive push for the move was two-fold. Her parents wanted her to take her dog and her apartment complex was strict on no pets. Then her promotion at work - which included a pay raise - made it hard to wave off taking full ownership of her childhood ten-pound best friend.

So with life happening as it usually does, Y/N first found herself scouring Zillow, then touring homes in the area, and finally standing outside a three bedroom, two bath, two-story cream house in Hampstead. Her house.

The little moving truck she had rented sat beside her as she stared at her future. The realtor had told her they would be there in ten minutes. For the next ten minutes all Y/N had to do was keep herself from combusting, or worse, sobbing.

She felt overwhelmed already. Renting a flat in London was one way to describe herself as independent. Owning a home in Hampstead seemed like a whole new level of adulthood she wasn’t sure if she was prepared for.

After taking a few deep breaths to ground herself, Y/N walked up to the gate that kept her front yard narrowly separated from the sidewalk. She lifted one hand from beneath the box she clutched tightly to her chest to push past the iron-rod gateway. The garden was cute, a little bland, and she thought to herself that maybe she’d develop some gardening skills now that she had her own front yard. The thought made her smile a little, refraining from laughing aloud while on her lonesome, since she had never taken interest in gardening before. But this house. This house. It was a new beginning. It was a fucking unwritten journal. Blank film. Unknown territory. She could be anyone in this house.

She gently placed the cardboard box on the first step up to the front door. There was no porch, but she couldn’t complain. It was gorgeous and she was lucky to get it at the price she did. The house was cream with dark blue accents and a grey shingled roof. Lots of windows. It was classic and it was hers.

After the realtor came with her keys and made sure everything seemed alright, Y/N’s couple of friends, Amélie and Daniel, arrived with their cars filled with items she had needed picking up from various stores. They helped her move her stuff into the house. Thankfully it was already half furnished, meaning she didn’t have to go out and buy beds or couches or any of those big items that are both expensive and a hassle to deal with.

By the time the evening had rolled around, everything was in the house and it actually seemed semi put together. Y/N looked around, sweat apparent on her face and hands on her hips, proud of what she had accomplished. The nerves from earlier had been drowned by pride.

The next day, she woke up from her first night in the house. It felt like a dream even though she was sure she was awake.

She had to navigate her way to the airport today to pick up her dog from his long flight and then mainly settle into the house. Her house sat on Sherwood Avenue, one of the many streets in Hampstead. It’s neighboring houses were much larger. The ones directly next to and across from her weren’t drastically bigger but what she had yet to learn was that next to the house across from her there were two houses that had been joined together by their slightly eccentric owner. A man who would be the match that ignited the flame that was the rest of her life.

This unknown fact quickly became known after Y/N’s first few weeks in her new neighbourhood. The eccentric - more so absurdly rich - neighbor who conjoined the houses was Harry Styles.

The first time they crossed paths she wasn’t even aware of it. It was the day she moved in. He had been out for his usual morning run and was rounding the corner when she had pulled up in her moving van. Once inside his home, he snoopily watched on as his neighbour began to move in. He hadn’t taken note of much about her, just that she was new and that she had a nice pair of jeans on that day.

The second time, Y/N was convinced she needed to get her eyes checked because there was no way that she had just seen Harry Styles key himself into the house across the way from her. There was no way that she had moved into the same area as him, let alone the same street. It seemed far more plausible that she needed a psych evaluation or a strong glasses prescription.

But the third instance of them crossing paths, she was proven wrong. She was on her way back from the neighbourhood park when she saw a guy jogging towards her. With a yellow beanie and a black Columbia sweatshirt paired with running shorts and shoes, he was hard to ignore running straight towards her. The iconic curls, strong jawline, and soft green eyes were dead giveaways this time. After making brief eye contact as their paths literally crossed, she felt herself make a little face of odd interest. Her head quirked and her eyes narrowed, lips pursed with slight confusion. That was definitely him.

After that, she found herself seeing Harry around the neighbourhood a relatively good amount. She’d see him at the park, at the coffee shop, on their street, and more. They didn’t speak. She really didn’t think he would want to be bothered by his neighbours and she certainly wasn’t willing to test the theory. They sometimes gave a small smile of acknowledgement but nothing really friendly. Just ‘you exist and I know that’.

Fridays are Y/N’s favorite day. It’s the beginning of the weekend, she never has to go into work and it’s simply a nice day. People are happier, they smile brighter and it just seems like the world is a little better than usual.

Friday was especially amazing today because her childhood best friend, Cate, was arriving at London Heathrow in the evening. Y/N had begged Cate to fly out to see the new house in person and Cate had finally found the time to run away to England for a week.

She shut her front door carefully behind her and placed her headphones in her ears. Rori, that little terrier, who had made a similar flight to see Y/N’s place not too long ago, scampered out the door with her and jumped happily at her legs as she fiddled with her phone. Her coat ruffles around her disturbed from the morning air. It’s blanket-like fabric that consisted of a deep blue backdrop with felt giraffes sewn on it, kept her warm while she walked. With her mind racing with weekend plans and ideas for her and Cate to do both in Hampstead and the city, she crossed the street like usual and began to walk with her dog to the coffee shop for her morning tea.

Unlike usual, she fumbled just as she was putting her phone in her pocket and bumped into something large and definitely not sedentary.

“I’m so sorry!” She blushed and moved backwards from the man who had just been shutting his own front gate to head somewhere.

“S’alright. No harm, no foul.” He looks down at her and her dog. Rori seems excited by the stranger and sniffs him eagerly. A single paw prodding at the man’s long leg.

She grimaces, hearing the voice and stepping back allows her to fully recognize who she had just bumped into. Her neighbour. The runner. Harry Styles.

“Sorry.” She mutters again as Rori continues to prod at Harry’s leg.

She tries to coax Rori away, but Harry simply smiles and leans down to the small dog.

“Hi there buddy,” he coos and rubs the top of the fluffy dogs head, in between his pointy ears, “What’s your name?”

“Rori.” She states easily, Harry’s eyes flickering to her smoothly. Rori makes a smile babbling noise that sounds a bit like a tiny roar - hence the name - and Harry chuckles to himself.

“He’s really adorable,” he finally says and straightens up from his admiring of the dog.

The grimace becomes more of a smile on her face and she mumbles a “Thank You”.

As her neighbour - who hasn’t introduced himself (which wasn’t necessary, but still) or bothered to ask for her introduction - seems to be about to say something new when his phone begins to vibrate obnoxiously. He twitches, his large hands immediately going to his pockets for the important device. He checks the message and looks back at her face.

“Sorry, I have to run...um,” he’s not sure what to say. He really does have to go, but he doesn’t even know his neighbour’s name. He’ll have to make sure to get it at some point in the near future. Especially now that he’s acquainted with her dog.

“No worries,” she smiles completely this time, relieved for the whole interaction to be over. She felt like she was going to explode with each passing moment. In the presence of a legendary musician, c’mon, who wouldn’t be freaking out. All she could think about was how Harry Styles now knew her dog’s name. What the fuck!

Upon arriving at the airport, she waited patiently for Cate to walk out of the customs area.

When she did, the two young women began jumping up and down excitedly, Y/N squealing only slightly. They hugged and began chattering intensely, catching up on lost time that generally occurs when you live an ocean apart.

Finally, one comment rings through the constant back and forth and Cate stops.

“Wait, what did you just say,” she questions as they begin walking to catch an uber back to Hampstead.

“I think my house might be haunted?” Y/N’s voice raising because she’s unsure if that’s what Cate was talking about.

“No, no, the thing after that. I think I must’ve misheard you.”

“Harry Styles is my neighbour?” Y/N’s brows raise as she looks over at her best friend, curious to know what she will say.

“Yes! Explain. Now!”

“It’s not really a big deal. It’s a nice neighbourhood, it makes sense that celebrities of his caliber want to live there.”

“That is not explaining. You have to introduce us!”

As they climb into their uber and settle in for the short ride back to Hampstead, Y/N sighs and tells Cate everything she knows.

“We’ve only just spoken today and I’ve been here for a couple weeks. He lives across the street and down one, I guess. I just see him around, it’s not like he knows who I am. He didn’t even get my name today, just Rori’s.” She laughs lightly, still finding it funny that Harry knows her dog’s name.

Cate nods, leaning in slightly to her best friend, hardly able to contain her awestruckness from the story and baffledness at Y/N’s calmness. “So, like, when do I get to meet him?”

“Girl, I don’t fucking know. Never, if you’re going to act wild. I don’t want the neighbourhood to think I’m not chill.”

“Sometimes…” Cate starts and leans away from Y/N jokingly, “I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

They both smile, bumping elbows silently. The song on the radio fading in louder as their words die out.

The next day, Y/N took Cate to the local park. It was expansive and connected to the football fields that local teams would play at. The park section was a luscious green that was maintained with copious amounts of watering by the township.

She and Cate settled on a patch of grass near a slender tree that would offer some shade if the sun’s rays became too harsh. The quilt they sat on was something her grandmother had made her when she was maybe 8 years old, meaning it was torn in places and completely worn in a different shade of pink than it had been initially.

They set up their picnic and played music, enjoying the sunny day. Something rare and fleeting as the fall began to creep up on Hampstead.

They eat and catch up on life for about an hour. Basking in the sunlight, Y/N had laid on her back and was staring up at the clouds passing along the sky. Cate was carefully watching their surroundings, simply taking in her friend’s new home, but possibly for another reason too.

“Hey, isn’t that…” Cate trails off, trying to subtly nod in the direction of an approaching figure.

Y/N sits up, her hands holding her up from behind her. Her hair fails in front of her shoulders slightly and it’s a little disheveled from being mused in the grass. She looks discreetly in the direction of Cate’s nodding and then looks at her friend and rolls her eyes.

“Yes, but don’t say anything, he might not even notice me and I’m certainly not calling out to him.”

‘Illicit Affairs’ by Taylor Swift is playing off her speaker and as she’s about to change it, Cate turns it up slightly. They share a glare with one another before trying to act casual again, even though both of their eyes kept flickering to the man who seemed to be continuing closer and closer to their set up.

It became clear that Harry was approaching them after all and Y/N tried to carry on an unbothered conversation with Cate, which was hard with the constant nudging of Cate’s foot on her shin.

He stops a mere foot away from their blanket, beaming at the two young women lounging on the ground. He makes an attempt at a casual wave, his large hand splaying his fingers quickly, before opening his mouth to speak.

Cate beats him to the punch. “Hello there!”

“Erm, hi!” He says nicely to her and then looks at Y/N.

“No Rori today?” He inquires.

“No,” she smiles, slightly blushing at the fact that he remembered her and her dog. “He’s napping.”

“Ah, I see,” He pauses, “I feel like I need to apologize.” He continues.

“For what?” She questions and Cate watches on anxiously, mesmerized by Harry and dying to see what happens next.

“I ran off before I could even ask for your name or introduce myself. It was terribly rude.”

“Oh,” she can’t stop smiling, “It’s nothing to apologize for, I’m sure you’re busy. Besides I had to get my day started, otherwise I would’ve been late picking her up.” She points to Cate who smiles sheepishly, still internally screaming over the fact that her friend is able to talk so easily to a celebrity.

Harry nods and looks at Cate again, “Just visiting I take it then?”

She nods quickly, words escaping her. Y/N chuckles under her breath and swoops in to save her friend any embarrassment. “Cate’s my best friend and she’s been kind enough to take time out of her extremely busy life to come look at my new house.”

He hums, still standing a respectful distance from their set-up. “Nice to meet you, Cate,” he says very kindly. Then he laughs, but in a way that is like he’s beside himself. The two women both quirk their heads at him. Y/N squints her eyes slightly, trying to understand the guy she is talking to and connecting him with the man that is all over the news all of the time for his musical genius.

“Now I know your dog and best friend’s names but still not yours. At this point, I’m begging you to tell me.”

They all laugh and Y/N feels nervous for the first time since Harry had walked up.

“You first,” she smiles slyly.

His eyes widen slightly in surprise, but then go back to normal. Harry was very smart, she likely knew his name, but one, she was trying to be funny and two, she was also trying to be courteous. He preferred to introduce himself rather than just be told who he is, even if people already knew. It allowed him to maintain some normalcy.

“‘M Harry,” He says with a smile.

“Alright.” She says and then remains quiet.

Harry’s lips quirk up in a faint smile, amused at her expression.

“I thought it was a ‘show me yours and I’ll show you mine’ type of situation or was I mistaken?” He finally asks when she remains silent still.

The two young women laugh and Y/N bites the inside of her cheek, both feeling flustered and completely in control at the same time.

“You weren’t mistaken, I was just thinking.” Then she pauses again and Cate thinks Harry is about to combust and Harry thinks he’s going to as well with all the anticipation that has been built up over his neighbor’s name, even though he was pretty sure he’d heard it in passing at one point or another but had forgotten quickly afterwards.

“It’s Y/N.”

Harry releases a facetious sigh of relief, “Oh thank god! Finally!” His words quickly turn into an infectious laugh that is paired with a shining smile and she feels like she’s swooning right then and there. The control has gone out the window and she’s taken with her neighbor. He’s wonderful in that moment and she forgets about Cate or the park or anything. It’s just Harry and how it seems like he’s smiling just for her.

“Now that I’ve gotten your name,” he smiles pointedly at her after his laughter has faded away. The smile doesn’t leave his face though, his eyes still crinkled, his dimples still showing.

She nods, encouraging him to continue. Cate feels like she’s watching a movie unfold in front of her and she wishes she could record the entire interaction.

“I can finally ask you, Y/N, where did you get that fabulous coat I saw you wearing yesterday?”

She twitches further upright, eyes bringing themselves directly inline with Harry’s gaze. “Oh,” she inhales, “The giraffe one, yeah?”

He nods.

“I got it from a Goodwill years ago. It’s some vintage company that used to only make sleepwear. I looked up the tag one time and it doesn’t exist anymore. Super cool, though. Wish I could buy more.”

“Yeah,” Harry says eagerly, even taking a step towards the women, “It was so intriguing. Maybe, if you didn’t mind of course -” he falters, losing his courage for a moment, “you could bring it over and my stylist could check it out. I would love something similar and I’m sure he could figure it out.”

She shrugs. It wasn’t crazy, especially not for Harry - she assumed. She was certain he often found things he liked but there was only one of them so he would just order his own. She couldn’t help the pride that was swelling inside her though it that moment. Harry Styles liking her jacket so much he asked where it was from and then wanting his stylist to look at it. She’d jump for joy when she was in the safety of her private home later tonight with Cate.

“One condition,” she says and Harry’s brows quirk amusedly at her.

“You are a very tit for tat person,” he muses.

“Fair’s fair,” she shrugs again and then looks around her quickly, “It’s simple so don’t get too worked up over it, buddy.”

He laughs slightly again and tries to figure out what she’s looking for. When she extends a scratched up, sticker-covered point and shoot film camera he smiles.

“Can you take a picture of Cate and I? It’s always just the two of us so we never have anyone to take pictures of us together.”

Harry grins at this and her sincere face. Cate is a little taken aback, because while it’s technically true, it’s not entirely factual. They have plenty of film pictures of them - maybe not recently though. And she wasn’t going to question Y/N right now. It seemed like she knew what she was doing.

Harry takes the camera and begins to look through the viewfinder. The women scoot closer together and Cate wraps her arm around Y/N’s shoulder. She leans in to press her cheek against her best friend. They smile up at the camera and Harry crouches slightly to get a better angle.

“Alright,” he mumbles, “Ready?...Cheese!”

Their smiles stay hung on their face as they listen for the click and when the faint sound befalls their ears, Cate laughs and Y/N pulls away. She reaches forward for the camera, her hand easily brushing Harry’s large one.

Their smiles meet each other and Cate can’t help but notice how they grow as the two of them look at one another.

“Thank you,” Y/N says sweetly and pulls back to retake her seat on the blanket.

Harry straightens up, his grin falling back into that signature smirk. “No problem.”

“So-” He begins but she cuts him off.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll see you around, yeah?”

He clears his throat, feeling thrown off. “Yeah, sure. I guess next time I see you we can talk about when a good time would be for your jacket to come over?”

His voice raises at the end of his question a little more than usual, he’s trying to get her to bite, but she doesn’t seem like someone who is easily thrown off. He is trying to read her and she’s been completely cool the entire time. It’s intriguing. Even more so than the jacket, even though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it, it wasn’t really his focus when he walked across the park to her and Cate.

“Yep! It was nice finally meeting you Harry.”

He feels the cue to walk off and says his farewells. As he walks off, back on course to his intended destination, his head is filled with questions. Most important of them being when he would see her again.

Cate and Y/N watch him walk towards the football fields. They see him meet with a group of men and it seems like they’re there to practice or play a game. Y/N couldn’t be sure.

“He likes you!” Cate finally bursts out.

Y/N rolls her eyes, “Stop trying to make me take the piss. That’s a fucking lie and you know it.”

“It’s not! He likes you and you obviously like him, I mean, but we been knew.”

“Having a crush on the famous Harry Styles when you’re 17 is different than me liking my neighbour Harry.”

“But you like him don’t you? He’s even better than he was when he was 19. Now he’s all grown up and established and more your style anyway.”

“Shut up! He could hear you.”

“He really couldn't, he's yards away, you’re just paranoid.” Cate continues to tease and ridicule her best friend over Harry and Y/N is just about ready to up and leave, but she also can’t help but laugh it off.

“I’m literally gonna kick you out if you keep talking,” Y/N says between laughs and the women feel like they’re back in high school losing their minds over the stupidest joke ever.

“Okay, fine. But all I have to say is I will hold this over you when you end up together.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, whatever. Just be prepared to wait forever because I can promise you Harry Styles and I are never ending up together.”

Two Weeks Later

Y/N walked to her door after hearing the doorbell ring and opened it to find her neighbour standing with his arm raised ready to knock.

“Hey, Harry,” She greeted easily, but not entirely sure why he was here.

They hadn’t really seen each other since their official meeting in the park. It hadn’t bothered her and it hadn’t really bothered Harry either. It seemed like they both had extremely busy lives that they didn’t plan on throwing out the window because they had said they would meet up at some point. She liked that.

Harry had come over because he finally had a break in his schedule and was hoping to talk about the jacket and anything else really. He was interested in getting to know her and he didn’t care to hide it.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go get a coffee or something?” He asked, leaning himself against her door frame now.

Her eyebrows raise and her eyes widen a little bit, not completely sure she heard him correctly.

“Right now?!” She asked incredulously.

She was wearing an oversized grey sweatshirt and black bike shorts that peaked out from underneath the sweatshirt hem. One of her socks was shoved around her ankle while the other was pulled up flat to touch the base of her calf. She didn’t think she was looking the most presentable at the moment. She had been basking in her day off by simply laying on the couch watching hours of Netflix.

He nods, his smile growing on his face. Her flustered expression only made him happier. She was always so nonchalant with him, he wanted to see her a little more antsy.

“Unless you’re busy,” he adds seriously, not wanting to bother her, just wanting to spend time with her.

“No, no. I’m not...I’m not busy. I just wasn’t expecting any plans where I would be required to go out in public. Let me just...um, come inside and then give me five minutes.”

“Sure,” Harry smiles again as he steps into her home.

Her smile is sheepish and much less genuine then the one Harry holds on his face as he takes in her abode. She tells him to make himself comfortable and then runs to her room to try and possibly fix her state in under five minutes.

She tears around her room, heaving off the frumpy sweatshirt and grabbing a long sleeve striped v-neck top she had hanging out half out of her hamper, a sign known to her that while it was clean enough to wear, if she happened to do laundry she should wash it. Slipping it over her head, she walks to her dresser and leans over to open the bottom drawer and unfolds a pair of dark wash oversized jeans. There’s no holes in them and she throws them on the bed so that she can slip out of her current pants. Next, onto the socks, she swaps out the current ones for a fresh black pair and finds her tortoise print boots to flick on. As she just about runs into her en suite bathroom, she zips the two boots up between steps. A quick comb through her hair, deodorant, two spritz of perfume, her eyelash curler and mascara and she’s running back to where Harry is waiting in her living room.

He blinks surprisedly at her promptness, usually giving people more time then what they say they need. She had indeed gotten ready in five minutes. He thought she looked breathtaking. And she felt like she was at a lack for breath in any case.

“It’s a bit cold out,” he glances to the window.

“Isn’t it always?” She smiles, finally catching her breath.

He chuckles and then nods, a smile appearing on his face as he feels a warmth in his chest at her wit.

“Ready?” He checks in.

She nods, grabbing a coat she kept hung by the door.

“Just the coffee shop down the way?” She inquires as they exit the house and she locks the door behind her.

Harry hums, waiting down a step for her to turn around and walk beside him. It was so strange to her, this felt all too normal with him. Like he was just a friend who had come to pick her up for coffee, her neighbor, nothing more.

“Did you hear the new season of the Crown is coming out soon?” Harry asks as they walk shoulder to shoulder (technically since her shoulder wasn’t in line with his).

“Really?” She looks at him, “I love that show!”

“Me too,” He looks at her and smiles happily.

“That’s amazing,” she breathes mostly to herself, half about the show and half about how Harry watches television and that he watches one of her favorite shows.

There’s silence. The brisk air pricking their cheeks as they walk down their street. Their puffs of breath create a slight mist of white ahead of them and then quickly dissipates.

Her eyes flit up to Harry’s chiseled jaw and face and she watches him as his eyes carefully and meaningfully take in his surroundings. Was it her turn to take a stab at conversation? It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence but she just wasn’t sure what was going on.

“You play football right?” She says finally as they turn onto the next street that would bring them closer to the café they both frequented.

She remembered seeing him there on several occasions. The tips he left were always overly generous, which she assumed you could do when you were exorbitantly rich. He always smiled when he ordered and knew the baristas by name. His order rarely differed and she hated to admit but she knew his two regulars. His actual “regular” was a 12 ounce black coffee, dark roast, no cream and no sugar. The other, his “I’ll actually have”, was a 16 ounce iced green tea, no cream and no sugar.

She couldn’t help that she was observant and that when ‘H’ was called at the bar she looked at what was pushed out, patiently waiting for him to come snatch it up with a smile and nod to the workers before he left. Sometimes he’d even smile at her over the lid of his drink as he exited the establishment. It was warm and inviting and she felt good about the twinkle in his eye that never seemed to waver no matter the day.

Now they were going there together and she’d have to pretend like she’d never noticed what he got as a drink.

He responds to her question with another glance at her and a simple “yes”. His hands shove into his pockets and one side of his pink lips quirk up. He continues, “I’m on a local team with some mates. We’re in a little competition with our league. The final match is coming up this Sunday actually...You should come.”

He says it so casually it almost doesn’t catch her off guard. Harry inviting her to his football game, maybe this was going to be her life now. Going to her neighbours football match. Going to Harry Styles’ football match.

“Sunday…” She sounds out, choosing to look out into the distance instead of at him. “What time?”

“Eight.”

“P.M. right?” She responds quickly, worried since she never wakes up that early and rarely before 10 a.m. on the weekends for that matter.

“Of course,” he chuckles.

They’ve come upon the café and he’s quick to grab the handle to open the door and let her go before him. She can’t stop the blush and smile that spread on her face as she ducks her head into the warm and cozy shop. Men had opened doors for her before and she really thought of herself as a strong woman who didn’t need a man for anything, but something about Harry’s action felt especially, and specifically, chivalrous. Why, she had no idea.

Neither of them stop to look at the menu. They were regulars and they both knew that about each other as well. He gestures for her to go first and she mutters her thanks before turning to the patiently waiting barista. She orders and is about to hand over her card when Harry suavely steps in and says, “Don’t worry about it. I invited you with me, I’ll pay.”

It was both completely unexpected and expected at the same time. Knowing she’d never win this fight, she thanked him again, glanced at the man taking her order and then stepped aside. Harry orders his own drink and then pays for both. Today he leaves double the amount he usually leaves for tip, she assumes since it’s two drinks he was paying for.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know?” She says quietly to him once they’re in a corner of the café waiting for their drinks.

He stands slightly slumped against the wall, closer to her height right now. He only shrugs, his good natured smile not once leaving his face since he entered this place.

“I wanted to,” he said simply right as the drinks were ready since it wasn’t particularly busy on this random Friday afternoon.

They glance outside and see that it’s begun to drizzle while they’ve been inside. She sighs, having hoped to walk around a little after being inside all day.

Instead, they sit at the corner table in the café, across from each other. She moves on from the paying thing, knowing it was simply how this guy probably operated most of his life.

He got a black coffee today, the cold and rain likely contributing to that choice.

As one pop song fades out, slightly under the sound of the coffee machines, she’s about to tell Harry she’s pretty sure she can make his final football match when ‘Cardigan’ fades in. It’s the second time a Taylor Swift song has been playing while she’s been in the presence of Harry and they were conversing. She tries to ignore one of her favorite songs at the moment. Harry doesn’t seem to pay much mind to it. His foot is tapping against his other, but it’s been tapping like that since they sat down.

“I think I could probably make it to your game,” she says finally after a pause and a sip of her own drink.

Harry grins at the response and launches into how great it will be if they win and how happy everyone will be. She smiles along and doesn’t notice the slight head swaying to the song that she’s begun.

“Fan of Taylor?” Harry inquires and Y/N’s face drops, eyes widening cartoonishly.

She stutters, a nervous laugh leaving her mouth before she can actually say something. How does she respond about liking Taylor Swift to a man who counts her as an ex. She’s at a loss.

“Yeah, uh,” she finally starts.

Harry watches her curiously, obviously noticing her discomfort as his question.

“I used to not really consider myself a fan. I don’t really follow her just because I don’t really follow...um...musicians,” she chokes out the last word realizing Harry fits that category. “But, after folklore, I don’t know, this album really spoke to me. I also really like Lover and...uh” she pauses again, sticking on 1989, an album she has argued with her friends about how it’s basically a tell all of the man before her and Taylor’s relationship.

He nods, hoping she’ll continue. He wanted to get to know her and he kind of liked seeing her squirm. “1989?” He finally supplies.

Her blush isn’t able to be covered this time. If her hair didn’t fall in front of her ears she was sure they’d be flushed with blood.

Then she draws out of her own self stress and looks at the smooth man before her and grows calm. He was amazing at winding her up and she didn’t want to seem like some young, impressionable fangirl to him. So, she squared her shoulders and straightened up in her chair.

“Yes, it was pop perfection as one of my college friends liked to say. I’d always listen to it at the gym.” Then she pauses, taking a measured breath, gaining her confidence back. Her eyes meet his, “Is there any songs off it that you particularly enjoy, Mr. Styles.”

He chuckles, mostly because of her emphasis on ‘Style’.

“Shake it off?” He asks.

“Oh fuck off!” She laughs and he joins in with her.

When they catch their breaths from laughing, they simultaneously take sips of their drinks and settle their eyes back on one another. Exes and songs written about oneself weren’t exactly the topics Harry had in mind for the coffee outing he had asked Y/N out on, but talks of exes had never been this funny with anyone else. He was grateful for her playfulness, her demeanor.

“Can I ask you something personal?” She asks quietly and seriously.

“I think we’re past that question, love,” he responds.

“Yeah, I guess,” she pauses and just about whispers, “Pretty much all of them are about you right?”

He shrugs again, his felt coat rustling around his seat. “We never really talked about every single song.”

She leans forward at the ‘we’ Harry is using about himself and Taylor Swift.

“But when I listen to the songs, I hear us in just about every one but a few.”

“Wow,” she breathes and sips her drink. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lived through something that intense and then someone commemorated in a masterpiece.”

“Do you have a favorite on that album?” He asks, moving on from her revelation.

“I love ‘I know places’, it has a cool sound. But I also really love ‘Wonderland’. They both have kind of dark sounds, yet it still is like what you have is so special that the bad bits are worth it. I don’t know, it just seems like a tv show. I don’t think my life could ever be that crazy or dramatic.” She doesn’t notice her use of ‘you’ because she had meant it as a form of analyzing the song theoretically as she had done hundreds of times with her friends, but this time the ‘you’ is literally the ‘you’ the song is talking about.

“Love can turn anyone’s life chaotic.” Harry muses.

The green eye’s that flashed at Taylor throughout that album look at Y/N from across the table and she feels a flip in her stomach at his tone.

Maybe he notices her mild discomfort, maybe that’s just who he is. But after a beat, Harry’s onto the next topic on his mind. He launches into how he’s just returned from Scotland for a shoot for something so undercover he can’t even divulge to her, much to his dismay. She’s taken aback since she didn’t consider her someone Harry would divulge any of his private matters to, but it seemed like he already considered her a confidant. Just not for that. He wants it to be a surprise.

She smiles and listens attentively. She wonders as he goes on about his interesting yet absurdly lavish life whether he even knows what regular life is like anymore. Or if he’d even enjoy it if he experienced it.

Sure, coffee and football were plenty part of regular life . But the football league was something novel to Harry. He had just gotten to do it and he was thrilled by its normalcy.

She regarded him carefully, unsure what the next step was in this budding friendship. Was it dangerous to get involved with someone’s life which seemed to be filled with whirlwind rigor and constant change.

She liked her chaos, don’t get her wrong. She felt like she often was the odd one out in life. Always thinking differently than the ones around her. She often was the one to suggest spontaneous late night trips around town or exploration of an abandoned building known for spooky stories. She liked inviting friends over for themed parties for no specific occasions and she liked taking film pictures of friends like they were models even though it was only for her and her memories. She thought of herself as silly and fun, but what Harry described as his chaotic fun actually was regimented tight schedules of constant travel and work. Interesting experiences came out of that constant travel and work, but didn’t seem like something she necessarily wanted to get herself wrapped up in.

After coffee, they leave the café and it’s pouring now. Instead of going home, Harry insists on walking her to her place. She relents, realizing, once again, that Harry wasn’t someone who took ‘no’ for an answer. She then invites him in because it’s the polite thing to do. And Harry being Harry accepts.

“Want a dry sweatshirt while you wait?” She asks as she slips off her wet shoes and jacket in the entryway. Harry follows suit, his knit sweater being pelted with rain for the last eight minutes left him feeling cold and shivery.

He nods as he toes off his shoes and ventures back to the living room she had him wait in a few hours ago.

“Here,” She says as she tosses a grey sweatshirt in his direction. She believes it's her one from earlier, an innocuous pullover with ‘London’ in collegiate lettering on the front. He catches it as she rounds the corner to turn up the heater.

Her mistake was being so careless to not look at the sweatshirt before handing it over to her neighbor. Anyone else, maybe they wouldn’t have questioned it. But Harry, how could he not.

“What’s this?”

“A sweatshirt,” she doesn’t spare him a glance on the coach as she fiddles with the thermostat.

“It’s one of my sweatshirts,” Harry says and she can hear the smile on his face.

“That’s impossible, I’ve never borrowed-” Her brows had raised at what he said but now her words fall short.

He didn’t mean one of his personal sweatshirts that she possibly borrowed if they were better friends. No. He meant his merchandise.

“It was a gift,” she sighs as she turns to face him. He’s now wearing the sweatshirt proudly and grinning up at her smugly.

She rolls her eyes when he gives her a knowing smile.

“I didn’t know that it was the one I was handing you. Honest!”

“I thought you didn’t “keep up” with musicians,” Harry says playfully, his fingers making quotes appropriately.

“I don’t.” Her tone is serious as she plops on the couch beside Harry.

“I enjoy your music from time to time. Is that a crime?!” She finally exclaims when she can’t handle Harry’s knowing smirk.

“No it’s not, you could have just told me you were a fan!” She tries to stop him and protest that she wouldn’t consider herself a fan, but he continues, “I still would have wanted to have been friends.You’re one of the liveliest neighbors I’ve got. Everyone else on the street is rather dull.”

She chuckles, remembering finding out quickly that the street wasn’t a lively bunch.

“I just wouldn’t say I’m a fan,” she presses and sits across from him.

He continues smiling like he knows the truth.

“I don’t think you’ve met an average person in awhile, Harry.” She finally says after they sat in silence for a few minutes because they were both too stubborn to be the first to talk.

“I would hardly call you average if that’s what you’re implying, Y/N.” He nods her way and he shifts on her plush couch, his legs adjusting themselves on their own accord. “And I know plenty of average people,” he adds huffily.

“I normally wouldn’t either, but compared to who you seem to surround yourself, I very much am. And that’s not meant to be a jab at anyone involved.”

His right hand sneaks up to his head to scratch at the base of a particularly perfect curl. His eyes squint a bit as his mind processes her claim.

“What are you trying to say exactly?”

“I’m just curious to see if you’d actually like me in your life. It seems like you want to be friends with me and that’s great, but realistically I don’t know how much I would fit into it.”

Harry scoffs, “That’s literally bullshit, just relax. I’m so chill you won’t even know what to do with me.”

Now it’s her turn to scoff. “Chill?!” She asks incredulously. Harry nods with a seriousness she hadn’t seen before.

“When’s the next time you’re flying off to another country for work?”

Harry pauses, “Um...the day after the final match. I’m beginning to film a movie, so I’ll be there for a month.”

“Busy bee,” she muses and they both chuckle.

There’s something about the somber look Harry is giving her. His eyes twinkled in the coffee shop and with playful winks she was excited to be in his presence. But after she mentions when his next trip is, he seems saddened. There’s skepticism behind his eyes and maybe he doesn’t like being challenged about who he is from other people, especially those who are new in his life.

But that’s who Y/N is, she’s straightforward and doesn’t lie to someone. If Harry was now her friend, she was going to tell it like it is to him. That personality trait she worried wouldn’t make her long for his world.

“So the cardigan? Do you have it here?” Harry changes the subject, clearly not wanting to actually consider a realistic friendship together instead just charging ahead with no hesitation. Whatever happened they would deal with it as it came. Maybe she should just go with the flow, let herself be swept up into his madness. Maybe it would be easier than fighting it.

“No.”

“Oh?”

“I do, I was joking. Where else would it be?” Her tone is light, trying to get back the shine she had seen Harry exhibit before it had vanished.

Maybe that was Harry’s effect on people. He was vibrant and like an Elton John song. You never wanted that shine to go away, never wanted the song to end. Never wanted him to stop shining his light on you. She felt this happening in just a few hours with him. When he was happy so was she and when he wasn’t entirely shining she wanted to do whatever she could to get it back.

A smile curls on his face and his green eyes narrow slightly. He’s trying to figure her out, know what she’s all about.

“Do you want to go and grab it?” His voice sweetening, almost like a tease. Maybe he means to bite his lip, maybe he doesn’t, but the effect on her is nonetheless earthshaking.

She pops up and smiles back, happy to have made him happy. As she walks out of the room to go get the cardigan that had started this all, her head tilts and she furrows her brow wondering why she felt such a sense of pride just for making him happy.

Would this man cause her to finally put someone else’s wishes ahead of hers?

“Are you on your way?”

She listens to Harry’s slightly worried voice crackle over the speaker of her phone as she shuts her door with the hand not holding her phone to her ear. His voice is raspy and muffled. She assumes it’s from the cold air of London at night and the scarf he is likely got wrapped around his neck.

“Yes! Jeez, I’m on my way. Walking over right now.”

It’s the final match for Harry’s football team and if they win the game then they get a trophy and it’s all Harry has been talking about since they got coffee and she handed over her cardigan.

Harry huffed an “alright” on the other side of the line and she called a “see you soon” before hanging up.

He was both eager for Y/N to come and possibly meet some of his teammates and a few of his close friends who he had invited and for her to arrive so that she wasn’t walking out late at night alone. He hadn’t known her for long, but he felt a certain protectiveness over her. She was relatively alone here, only two friends at work that she had mentioned and everyone else lived far away. She said she didn’t mind it, but Harry had a hard time understanding it since he surrounded himself with his friends as much as he could and was constantly either traveling or having them travel to see him.

He had even contemplated inviting her to come to Los Angeles with him for a month, but knew she would remind him of her ever important job that she couldn’t just randomly take a month off.

He’d have to ask her what exactly she did because every time he tried to remember, it always slipped his mind.

When her figure came into sight below the fluorescent lights, he breathed a sigh of relief. A grin spread on his face as she beamed at him and waved a bit. He didn’t understand how she couldn’t see how special she was. Every time he saw her he felt himself straighten up and feel a bubbling in his chest. Her smile was infectious and the way her eyes glittered when she looked away quickly and then returned eye contact made him want to stay in her presence forever.

“You made it!” Harry said and scooped her up in his arms, not realizing just how happy he was to see her, swinging her around in a half circle.

She laughs in surprise, but appreciates the warmth Harry’s hug offers her. She’s not quite sure they had ever touched each other before this moment beside shoulder brushes and hand touches. Nothing so...purposeful.

“I made it,” she confirms and pats him on his broad shoulders.

Questions in her mind raced as she questioned whether it was normal for friendships to happen like this. She knew in college friendships could happen this quickly. And that’s when it dawned on her, she really hadn’t made a new friend since college and that was why everything with Harry was so odd to her. She had forgotten what new friendship was. She needed to stop questioning everything and just live in the moment with a person she really liked being with.

Harry’s hands move from her waist and one stays to lead her forward so he can introduce her to some of his mates, as he had promised.

She felt at home in that moment. His hand on the small of her back, his heat radiating off of him and her hair swept behind her ears and her cheek pressed to his shoulder staring up at him sweetly.

She meets Charlotte, a member of Harry’s band who lives in London, her boyfriend, Mitch (who had just happened to find himself in Hampstead this weekend), Ben, and a few more people she couldn’t remember all the names of.

Harry’s team wins the game and Y/N’s not sure if she’s ever seen someone so happy to win an adult league football match. There wasn’t any official trophy except the one Harry had made himself and said he would even give to the other team if they won. It was engraved with the words “The World’s Greatest Football Team of Stars Ever. October 22, 2020”. It doesn’t even make sense but she’d been holding it for the entire night as he played.

He goes down the line of his friends who have been watching and gives them all jubilant kisses on the lips. When he reaches Y/N she holds out the trophy and he grins and gives her a kiss on the cheek. His lips are surprisingly soft and his scratchy stubble tickles her and she swiftly pulls back, a smile on her face and blush on her cheeks nonetheless.

Charlotte and Mitch share a look between the two of them and Ben’s eyes narrow slightly at the interaction. His eyes narrow just as they had when Harry had strutted over to the group with Y/N before the game. He had happily named everyone and she had shaken all of their hands with a warm smile on her lips. Ben had regarded her warily and she had shaken it off as the chill of the night air. But there it was again, not quite trusting of the neighbour girl Harry had just randomly befriended a few days ago.

The team and the friends of the team decide they deserve to celebrate this win, mostly at the request of Harry.

Y/N tries to find a time to leave, to return to her place so she can prepare for her day at work tomorrow. But no excuses will be heard from Harry and she has a hard time saying no to his sparkling eyes and gorgeous grin that she’s growing far too accustomed to.

She’s ushered down to the closest pub with the rest of them and finds herself chatting with Charlotte’s boyfriend. He’s the most...normal. She’s not sure how to explain it, but he doesn’t seem to be regarding her as different, unlike every other one of Harry’s friends. They were all perfectly nice and cordial with her, but she just felt like she wasn’t a part of their group, their world and she didn’t know how to explain it.

Charlotte and Mitch are rather nice too, but they’re more reserved with her. They’re musicians, like Harry, and they somewhat have that air of awareness around them that Harry sometimes gets. She thinks it’s from the fame, having to constantly be wary of who is around you, what everyone is doing, what is happening next. She doesn’t mind it, it’s just not something she’s used to.

She wishes she could just throw back some drinks and she could allow herself to be more...well just be more. More of a presence, more of herself, but she has a job she has to get to bright and early. Tomorrow was Monday and for her that meant work. So she sips a beer that Harry insisted be on his tab and she makes small talk with Charlotte’s boyfriend about how he’s been helping her produce her first EP. Charlotte occasionally pops in when she hears her name, but mostly is conversing with Mitch over something silly. Y/N knows because they keep laughing.

Harry is going around to just about everyone in the party and she watches as he happily talks with every one of his friends. He’s ecstatic and she wonders if she’s ever experienced happiness like he has.

At midnight she attempts to make a French exit, as her mother always called it, and slip away with little to no farewells, but Harry spots her before she can.

“You’re leaving already?” Harry asks loudly, the euphoria of winning his silly little game and drinking a fair amount of pints has him at his peak boisterity.

“I have work tomorrow,” she says warily, slumping slightly from the weight of Harry’s arm slinging around her shoulder.

He turns serious and straightens up slightly, his green eyes looking especially dark in the pubs dim lighting as they look her dead in the eye. “Let me walk you home.”

“I can get home by myself,” she laughs, shrugging off his hold. “Plus, the host can’t leave his own celebration.” She gestures to everyone else happily celebrating on a Sunday, somehow not bothered by the beginning of the average week.

He steps closer, his brow furrowing for the first time that night. One of his large hands raises to his tousled hair and he runs it through the tresses. He even nibbles at his lower lip as he contemplates his decision. Then quickly and suddenly, he makes up his mind,

“No, I’ll escort you. Can’t have my neighbour walk home this late alone. I’ll just leave my card with Mitch. He’ll settle up the tab.” He smiles at his perfect plan and she grimaces feeling slightly embarrassed that he would leave his friends to walk her home. “Won’t you Mitch?” Harry calls as he grabs his coat from the wall next to the door. Mitch simply nods and Harry yells his farewells, Y/N waves meekly.

“That was...interesting,” she mulls over her words as they walk through the cold night air outside of the pub.

“Amazing, right?” Harry speaks over her less enthusiastic voice.

“You have a lot of friends,” she mused, trying to sound less disheartened than she had in her last statement.

Harry only hums and shivers slightly from the cold. His breath comes clearly out in puffs in the cold night air. Y/N’s is muffled by her scarf wrapped tightly up to her chin. She’s tucked his face as far into it as possible but her nose won’t stop from freezing as they walk.

Her hand goes up to it and she rests her palm to the tip of it. The motion grabs Harry’s attention and he looks directly at her curiously.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m freezing,” she muffles out, “This helps my cold nose not be so..cold.”

He chuckles and wraps his arm around her shoulder and she easily folds into him, welcoming any warmth right now.

After another moment of silence and them enjoying each other’s warmth and slight smell of whatever perfumes they had chosen earlier that night as well as beer and wood of the pub, Harry nuzzles his head above hers and then asks her something.

“Was that overwhelming for you?”

She’s quiet, thankful his eyes can’t reach hers right now. He was too powerful with those things.

“I, um, a little. I just...I just realized today that I haven’t made a new friend since college outside of work and it was overwhelming just hanging out with you. So all of your friends as well, yeah, it was a bit much for me.”

Harry looks out at the empty street ahead of them and sighs in realization. In his excitement, he hadn’t accounted how she might have felt tonight until just now. He wanted to kick himself for not thinking of her feelings, but other’s feelings slipped his mind so easily sometimes.

They round their street corner and she nuzzles back into his side.

“I’m sorry, love.” He rubs at her outer arm, “I didn’t think about it like that. I was just so excited for my plan to come together. Maybe next time, it’ll just be a couple of them rather than so many?”

“Sure,” she says quickly, wanting to make him happy, knowing how much he cared about his friends. “I feel like we need to hang out more with just you before I osmos into your friend group though if I’m being honest.”

“Well that can definitely be arranged,” he says and reluctantly lets go of her body. They’ve arrived at her door.

“I also want to see the inside of your house at some point.” She tugs at one of his hands before it can disappear into his warm coat pocket. “Houses,” she corrects.

“That can also be arranged,” Harry smiles with his lips closed. Pink lips and rosy cheeks extra bright from the cold. He plays with her fingers as the two stand close to one another, happy for the alone time and chalking the proximity up to heat sharing.

“You leave tomorrow right?” She finally asks.

His head falls and he sighs.

“Yeah…”

“It’s just a month,” she smiles, trying to stop Harry from being so dramatic. Especially when there was no logical reason for him to be so upset over not seeing his neighbour - she keeps telling herself.

“Are you sure you can’t quit your job and just fly out with me?” He pleads.

She throws her head back in laughter and shifts closer to him, her front porch light illuminating and shadowing every perfect place on Harry’s gorgeous face.

“Not even a chance.”

“That is a shame,” he takes an experimental step closer and she feels his breath fan across her cheeks at his last word.

She wrinkles his nose at the smell of his last beer, even though coming from him it was endearing.

Just as she feels him being to shift his head closer, she steps forward and gives him a tight hug.

“Goodnight Harry,” she whispers into his ear, “Safe travels.”

Then she’s stepping back and swiftly unlocking her door. She moves it slowly so as to not wake Rori and then Harry’s left alone and dumbfounded on her doorstep.

He definitely preferred being with her alone, but now he didn’t even have that chance until next month. And nonetheless she had just sidestepped his kiss with such ease he’s not even sure if he meant to kiss her. It had felt right, but why? Because it was cold and picture perfect? Or because he was enchanted by her and liked her as more than a new friend?

She slumps in her kitchen and fixes an Emergen-C to stave off the chill of the night and any germs that might have been lurking around the pub. She hopes when she walks to her bedroom she can check the front porch and see that Harry has gone home because she would hate to turn the light off on him.

How could he have expected her to kiss him just then? They’ve only just met each other a few weeks ago? And he’s Harry Styles and she just lives in the neighbourhood. What the actual fuck had happened to her life?

2K notes · View notes

honeytae · 3 years

Note

if you’re open for regular requests i’d love to request lil scenarios of the boys learning english alongside their english-speaking s/o! this is totally self-indulgent i’m doing the TEFL program and i’m going to south korea next year to teach :)

first of all, that’s amazing omg!! congratulations my love, i hope you have the best time over there and please don’t be shy in sharing your stories with us!!! i tried to stick to the boys actually learning english with their s/o but i strayed from that with a few members just bc i ran out of ideas lol but i hope you still enjoy!

fair warning....i’ve never ~seriously~ tried to learn korean, so i’m not entirely certain of the parallels between korean and english. i just hope these are wholesome enough to override that lmao

namjoon:

“You know,” Namjoon looked up from his phone, “I understand expanding your vocabulary, but why are there so many weird slang words?”

“Kids these days?” You shrugged, the man chuckling in response before flipping his phone around to show you what had puzzled him.

“If something slaps, that’s...good?” He wondered, watching as you suppressed a smile at the tweet he was showing you.

You could tell by the profile picture that the user was an ARMY, one of the many fan profiles on the platform, and the tweet was written completely in English.

Although there was a ‘Translate to Korean’ option readily available with just a tap of his thumb, you knew Namjoon never missed an opportunity to challenge himself to be able to fully comprehend what a native English speaker was trying to say.

You nearly snorted at the tweet’s content, smiling as you read it out loud.

“The Dis-ease bridge just saved my life. Seriously, this song slaps.”

Glancing at Namjoon, he raised his eyebrows, eagerly waiting for you to translate and explain what that could equate to in Korean.

“It’s definitely a good thing, Joon. They love it.”

At your interpretation, Namjoon grinned, nodding to himself as he pulled his phone back in front of his face to scroll through more reaction tweets to the new album release.

seokjin:

“What the hell is that?”

You picked your head up from your sketchbook when you heard Seokjin whine from beside you, eyebrows knitting together at his distressed tone. Taking a glance over at his laptop screen, you found his mouse bouncing from letter to letter on one of his weekly english lessons.

“What is that, like 15 letters? How do you even use that in a sentence?” He went on, obviously flustered by the word on the screen.

Pulchritudinous.

You placed your hand over his to stop his panicked counting of the letters, causing him to look over at you with a sigh as he frowned.

You nearly giggled at his reaction, but the genuine fear in his eyes made you stifle it as you soothingly held his hands in yours.

“It’s just an over complicated way of saying beautiful. I don’t know why they’re teaching you that, nobody ever uses it.” You assured him, his eyes going down in size a bit at your words before he nodded.

Watching as a smirk tilted his lips, you raised your brows at the sudden expression.

“What?”

“Well like, I could say I’m...that?” He said, eyebrows raised cockily as he gestured to the long word stretched across the screen.

“Well it’s actually not used like,” you paused, giving in with a shrug as you grinned back at him.

“Sure, love.”

yoongi:

“Why did I skip English class all the time?” Yoongi sighed, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers as he plucked at the skin in frustration.

“Because you were trying to be a rebel.” You answered without looking up from your phone, the man obviously not liking your answer as he reached over to where you were laying beside him to pinch at your hip.

Yelping, you scooted across the mattress to get away from his hand, whining his name with a scoff before looking over at his notepad.

“What are you doing, anyway?” You asked, leaning on your palm as you scanned the rows of scribbled English letters written on the page.

“I’m trying to get better at writing.” He admitted shyly, a small grin on his face to match the fond one on your own.

“Aw,” you pouted, Yoongi raising his eyebrows at your tone, “but I like your chicken scratch.”

“You’re such a brat.” He chuckled, adjusting the velcro on his brace with a grunt.

Since Yoongi’s shoulder surgery took away obvious straining activities like dancing and performing, he’d turned to studying English from the comfort of your bed during his recovery as one of the only safe activities he could partake in for a while.

It was now one of his favorite past times, learning new words and phrases he could potentially use in the future. It worked for you both because it took his mind off the pain and kept him motivated, and since you could speak both his and your language, you could help him out whenever he got stuck on something.

Usually he did lessons verbally on his phone, but it seemed today he had taken the old fashioned route.

“Your handwriting really isn’t bad, Yoongs.” You observed, the carefully placed tails at the end of each ‘a’ making you smile out of fondness for the man.

“My man has the prettiest handwriting.” You cooed, pushing a strand of his stark black hair out of his eyes as he blushed down at his notebook.

“Stop that.”

hoseok:

“Hey, babe?” Hoseok called for you, listening to your footsteps growing closer before you popped your head into the kitchen doorway.

“Yeah?”

“I’m having a little trouble.” He gestured to his open laptop on the counter, you recognizing it as an assignment from his English course.

“What happened?”

“Pronouns. Pronouns happened.” He pouted, his disdain for the new chapter quite obvious as he stared down his computer screen.

“What about them?” You asked, stepping closer to the man sitting at the kitchen island and placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“I need to make ten sentences using proper pronouns and I feel like I’m doing it all wrong.” He explained, causing you to hum as you looked over his sentences.

“These look great, Hobi.” You smiled as you glanced over the first three he’d written, flawlessly executed on the document.

“Can you help me with the next one?” He wondered, you nodding your head as you took a seat on the stool next to his.

“What do you want the next one to say?” You asked, watching as he glanced off to the side in thought, slightly squinting his eyes at the tile floor beneath the sink.

“My house is next to,” He spoke in English, pausing as he searched his brain for what pronoun to put next.

“Theys?” He answered as more of a question, then shaking his head as he switched back to Korean, “wait, no.” He sighed, placing his chin in his hand in thought before glancing over to you.

“I know it’s wrong, I just don’t know what the right answer is instead.” He explained, you shooting him a loving smile as you pushed the dark raven hair off his forehead and pressed a kiss to the newly revealed skin.

“I’ll help you, Sunshine. No worries.”

jimin:

Flopping onto the bed, you let your tired body fall on top of Jimin’s hoodie clad chest, his arm encircling your body as he mumbled a soft greeting to you.

“Hm, what are you learning about today?” You nuzzled into his chest, peering at his phone propped up on his thigh.

“Animals. Birds, mostly.” He answered, briefly turning from the screen to press a kiss to your head before focusing back on the row of English words matched with pictures of popular birds glowing from the device.

The first was a robin, the next a blue jay, and then a dove.

You listened as the virtual instructor prompted Jimin to repeat after her, spelling out the letters before stating the whole word. You smiled as your boyfriend followed instruction, pronouncing the words the best he could after the microphone chimed for him to do so.

“D-o-v-e. Dove.”

“Dove.” He repeated, smiling to himself as the app announced he got the point with a little heart.

“That’s cute.” He went back to his native language, you humming in confusion as you lifted your head up off his chest to look at him.

“The heart?” You asked, reaching up to twist a stray strand of hair out of his eye as he shook his head.

“Dove.” He said again, making you tilt your head, not knowing what he meant.

“It sounds like ‘love.’” He connected the two English words, you smiling fondly at him in response before scooting up the bed to kiss the tip of his button nose.

“You’re so cute.”

taehyung:

Three knocks at the door announced someone’s arrival to your bedroom, causing your head to lift from the novel you’d been so immersed in. Taehyung was home, but you’d wanted to give him space because you knew he needed to work on lyrics for his mixtape in order to submit them on time.

“Hey,” he poked his head in with a small smile, “can you help me with something?” He asked sheepishly, stepping further into the room when you nodded.

“Of course. What is it?” You set your book down, marking your place before closing it to pay full attention to your boyfriend.

“Well, I’m trying to write this verse in English and,” he trailed off with a shrug, “you know.” He finished, you nodding in response with a gesture for him to come sit next to you.

He eagerly walked over to you with his notebook in hand, lowering himself to the mattress before rolling his way over to where you were leaning against the headboard.

Honestly, Taehyung’s English wasn’t bad at all. He was insecure about it, but you’d never really understood what the reason for that feeling was. His vocabulary was more than decent, his comprehension was good, and his pronunciation was great for having such a thick accent.

But there were many times where Taehyung came to you for guidance, as you were a native English speaker yourself.

And so, as he rested his head on your shoulder confiding in you about everything he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it, you patiently took him through what would work and rhyme best, smiling as he hummed the melody to himself to see if the phrases would work in his creation.

jungkook:

“Baby, can you read it to me again before we go on? Just one more time.”

You glanced over at your boyfriend in his makeup chair, several employees bustling around the man as they attempted to get him ready to go on stage while they had him seated.

With his arm extended backward to where you stood behind his leather chair, he offered his phone to you while shooting you a grin through the reflection in the mirror.

Taking the device from his hand, you opened it to the notes app where he’d written what he wanted to say in his statement on stage in just a few minutes.

You were in London tonight, which meant that all of the boys had been rehearsing their English so that they could communicate easier with their audience.

Jungkook, ever the over-achiever, was determined to do the toughest English tongue twister he could possibly find. Not only that, but in a British accent for his British ARMY’s.

“Betty bought a bit of better butter to make her bitter butter better.” You read from the phone, barely able to read the sentence yourself before you glanced up at Jungkook through the mirror again.

You watched your boyfriend nod as his brain took in the words you’d just said, taking a deep inhale before he began speaking the phrase back to you.

You gawked as the man effortlessly repeated after you, a few of the makeup artists stopping as well as Jungkook raised his eyebrows back at you.

“Was that okay?”

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