#best music to clean by are musical numbers
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kindsoulbuddy · 2 years ago
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I’m in a Hamilton phase right now, I listen to it every day in the car.
Edit: I thought it might be Oklahoma! But actually i think it was The Wizard of Oz.
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reblog if the first musical you listened to was not Hamilton
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kayarai · 4 days ago
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Yesterday's adventure in Epic fic writing: featuring Telemachus having A Bad Time (Content warning: brief suicidal thoughts near the end (lines immediately following a list of single words in parentheses). Telemachus has massive self-worth issues and a knife to his throat. You can probably guess where his thoughts might go.)
--
It was painfully obvious that Melanthius didn’t actually what to do with a hostage. Sure, he’d managed the first two common sense steps of “incapacitate sword arm” and “knife to throat.” The next logical steps should’ve been “drag your hostage upright and use them as a shield” and “put your back to a wall.” Instead, Melanthius made the truly brilliant decision to shove his hostage down and stand with his back to the open hall.
As the hostage in question, Telemachus couldn’t really say he minded all that much that the man holding a knife to his throat was only half competent and leaving his back wide open to attack from…
“Your very presence has doomed the king—”
from…
“We can still defeat the king—”
from…
“Make the king obey our commands—”
…anyone.
There was one small downside to the man holding a knife to your throat being half competent however. That would be that a half competent man holding a knife to your throat might be inclined to do something less than competent with that knife, which was, again, being held against your throat.
Maybe is was the blow to the head, or maybe his luck had just run out. The focus and battle-calm he’d managed to cling to while fighting had shattered. His thoughts broken into thousands of jagged shards. Shards with sharp edges cutting him apart from inside as they spun and spun, and broke and broke, and shattered and—
Melanthius’s mediocre hostage holding capabilities was probably the least painful of his spinning thoughts to try to hold in focus and Telemachus had to hold onto that otherwise…
otherwise…
(Last week, yesterday, two hours ago he’d considered Melanthius one of the handful of suitors inclined toward letting him live. Now though? With the flat of a blade pressed so firmly against his throat that he couldn’t draw a proper breath? It was obvious Telemachus had horrifically miscalculated.) (What else had he miscalculated?) (What else had his mistakes threatened?) (What else had he endangered with this failures?) (With his weakness?) (His mother.) (Their kingdom.) (His…
“Your very presence has doomed the king, young prince”
father?)
(What would his father think? His father. Returning home to find the son that should be following in his legendary footsteps like… like… this.) (Defeated.) (Broken.) (Hostage.) (Liability.) (Burden.) (Disappointment.) (Shameful.) (Failure.) (Weak.)
If he could wriggle just enough… Shift his head in just the right way… he wouldn’t be useful leverage anymore. (He wouldn’t have to face his father’s disappointment.)
“No.”
*snap*
Somewhere between the snap of a goddess’s voice and the snap of a bowstring, Telemachus manages to pull enough of his scattered thoughts together that the moment the grip on his arm slackened and the knife began to fall away he’s moving, scrambling for his spear and darting to put a wall at his back.
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thewhizzyhead · 1 year ago
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mean girls musical movie soundtrack review and score from 0-10 coming up next on this account
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noonecareslol · 7 days ago
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𒀯𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚
Anaxiphilia: love for or attraction to unsuitable mates; an act of falling in love with the wrong person
Hwang In-Ho x Fem! Reader
wc! 7k
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After you move away from your childhood best friend (and first love), the last place you expected to see him was stuck with you as a “player”.
TW: Violence (duh its squid game), cursing, smut 18+ pnv, unsafe sex, probably pregnant lol
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
Classical music filled your ears as your eyes adjusted to the bright lights. It played throughout the room as you woke slowly and attempted to make sense of your surroundings. But, as you looked at the number placed on your tracksuit you remembered where you were.
Or at least why you were there.
You were never uncomfortable growing up. You were actually quite wealthy. Your father owned a very successful company, your mother invested money intuitively, and life seemed to improve daily. That was until you were 17 and news broke that your father’s company was a front. A money laundering business that cleaned his filthy money from years and years of fraud. When they died, they left you a monumental amount of debt. And when a suspiciously attractive guy handed you a little brown card, you couldn’t help but call the number on the back.
You knew the games were too good to be true. And you realized you were right after the first one. It took you 30 minutes to wash the blood off your face and out of your hair.
Now you were standing next to a girl with the number “222” written on her tracksuit, watching as an older lady and her son begged the guards to let them go. You fiddled with your hands, flinching at the rawness after scrubbing them relentlessly. Your attention was grabbed when another person stepped through the crowd.
“Clause three of the consent form!” Your eyes trained on him as he spoke angrily, “The games may be terminated upon a majority vote.”
Your heart stopped. You could go home and be safe. But you would still be drowning in debt. You bit your lip, remembering about the share of money you would receive. Would you have enough to cover it?
As if the guards could read your mind, a large piggy bank lowered from the ceiling, “The number of players eliminated in the first game is 91. Therefore, a total of 9.1 billion won has been accumulated.” Every eye watched as the piggy bank began to fill, “If you quit the games now, the 365 of you can equally divide the 9.1 billion won and leave with your share.”
Another man shoves past the crowd, “And how much is that?”
“Each person’s share would be 24,931,500 won.”
Exasperated sighs and annoyed words broke out amongst the crowd. But your eyes stayed trained on the man who first spoke, “456” written on his chest.
The pink guard spoke loudly, “The rule is that a hundred million won will be accumulated for each eliminated player. If you choose to play the next game, the prize amount will increase accordingly.”
The crowd stayed silent, “The total amount of prize money for all 456 players is 45.6 billion won.”
The crowd erupted again, full of enthusiastic words and motivated cheers. The girl next to you placed her hands over her stomach, almost cradling it closer to her body.
If you went home now, you wouldn’t even have enough to cover a third of your debt. But if you stay and continue the games, you could die.
The doors opened and two guards wheeled out a metal podium with two buttons, a red X and a blue O. “Now, let’s begin the vote. If you wish to continue the games, press the O button. If you wish to end them, press the X button. The vote will be held in reverse order of your player numbers.”
“Player 456.”
The same man from before stepped forward without hesitation. As he walked to the podium his stride was filled with wrath and as he slammed his palm against the X, his eye contact didn’t break with the guard.
The voting continued, each person stepping forward to decide whether to live or die. Each time either button was pressed you silently celebrated, still not sure if you should stay or go.
“Player number two.”
Your face fell as your eyes centered on the podium. And with each slow step you took, you became more sure of your decision. And as you reached the podium, you had made up your mind entirely.
A high beep rang through the room as your face reflected the blue button. You decided to continue. Flinching at the sound of defeated sighs from behind, you took the patch embroidered with an O and joined the other voters.
“Player number one.”
You hadn’t cared to look at the man when he was standing next to you earlier. But now that he was about to break a tie, your eyes were locked on him. You didn’t catch his face but you studied his figure. He had a tall frame and dark brown hair that seemed to be styled perfectly. He walked with a thick sense of confidence and you hadn’t failed to notice how his tracksuit clung to his biceps.
You watched intensely as he lifted his hand and hovered between the two buttons. The room held suspension and your eyes were locked on his hand. He hesitated for a few more moments before pressing his hand down. Blue light illuminated his face and the surrounding crowd cheered as he walked from the podium.
He had selected to stay. To play another game where you, or him, could die. You voted for that too. So why aren’t you happy about winning?
Because he’s turned around now and you’ve seen his face. And you would recognize that face anywhere.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
“I don't understand, you’re moving?” He grasped the sides of your face, afraid to let go.
You looked at the boy in front of you who’ve you known your whole life. You went to private schools together, fancy parties together, and you shared your first time together. And now you’re leaving.
You placed your hands over his, “I don’t understand either In-ho. I want to stay, I don’t want to leave you.” Tears fell down your rosy cheeks as In-ho placed his forehead gently against yours.
You ignored your mother’s frantic yells for you to come and pack your things. You didn’t want to leave him. You loved him, and you knew if you left now you wouldn’t just be leaving your house. You’d be leaving your life behind. Your father would be arrested and your mother would have to work while taking care of you herself. You would move from Gangnam to Daegu. And you would have to start a new life. You just didn’t understand why In-ho couldn’t be a part of it.
That was the last time you saw him.
Well, until now.
You kept your distance, watching him talk to player 456. You recognize him from before as the man who’s already played.
You observed intensely, not bothering with your food. You watched how he exchanged words with 456. How his hair moved slightly as he used his hands to talk. You didn’t understand why he was here. The last you heard about him, he was married and his wife was expecting.
Would could’ve gone so wrong for him to be here?
The girl next to you shuffled in her seat, setting her empty dosirak-tong on the ground. You knew she was pregnant just from how she walked uncomfortably with her hands supporting her back.
“Here, take mine. I don’t like dosirak.” It was a lie, dosirak is one of your favorite meals. But she was eating for two, and you didn’t have an appetite.
She looked up at you before gently taking the metal box from your hands, “Thank you.” Her voice was barely above a whisper and you smiled in return.
Your eyes searched for In-ho again to find him walking towards a fight you hadn't noticed had broken out. His frame was large and towered over the boys as he approached them, “Boys, what are you doing in the middle of mealtime There are elders present, mind your manners. Aren’t you embarrassed?”
“You’re lecturing me when you ended up in this shithole too?” In-ho’s jaw clenched as he tilted his head at the boy, “Dude, stop running your mouth and take care of your own damn kids.”
You knew where this was heading, In-ho always knew how to fight. You smirked as he grabbed the boy, turning him around and twisting his arm behind him.
Forcing him to the ground with a thud as he whined, “Wait! I’m sorry! Please, let me go!”
He let go of his arm and stood up straight, adjusting his tracksuit. As he looked around the room while walking back toward player 456, his eyes suddenly met with yours. And he froze as he scanned your face. He was so caught up in Gi-huns plan that he had failed to realize you had entered the game. The girl he fell in love with. Who he shared his first kiss with, who he has thought about every day for 20 years since you were 17.
Your heart ached as old feelings rushed over you, watching as his eyes softened slightly before player 390 dragged him over.
You couldn’t sleep that night. You were too busy trying to figure out why he was here. Plus, you caught word of the next game being Dalgona. Which worried you because you had always sucked at cutting out the tiny shape, always giving in and eating the cookie whole.
You spent the night staring tiredly at the piggy bank, the soft yellow light casting across your face. What you didn't know is that 50 feet away, In-ho watched you. His mind also trying to understand why you were here. He stared at you, his eyes tracing the curve of your jaw, remembering when he would trail kisses on your pretty little face.
When he met your eyes earlier, he froze. Not because he didn't expect to see you, which he didn't, he froze because his heart did. He marveled at your beauty, and you took his breath away. Just like the first time he saw you all those years ago.
And now as he lays in his bed, his pillow propped up on the opposite end so he can see you, he can't help but address the elephant in the room. You know his name. You know his identity. You could ruin everything, his plan that he had focused solely on for the past three years.
As the lights turned on and classical music rang out from the speakers, his eyes stayed on you and only you.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
"Welcome to your second game. This game will be played in teams. Please divide into teams of six in the next ten minutes. Let me repeat."
Sand kicked behind you as you walked into the room. The speakers repeated the instructions as you whispered to the girl next to you, "Is Dalgona played in teams?" She shook her head and her hand caressed her belly. You've grown somewhat protective over the girl, whose name you learned is Kim Jun-hee.
You take her hand as you look to find a team and your eyes try to pick out In-ho from the crowd. You think you spot the back of his head and start to pull Jun-hee towards him when she makes a be-line to a group. Your protests go ignored as she reaches them. Your eyes still search for In-ho as she inquires about joining their group.
"Of course, you can join." The voice snaps you from your search as you meet familiar piercing brown eyes with your own. Your breath hitches in your throat as he doesn't break eye contact.
"Time for team selection is up." The PA system breaks your stare, but In-ho holds his. You look around the room, scanning over the tall blue walls and the rainbows painted on the floor, "The game you will be playing is Six-Legged Pentathlon. You will start with your legs tied together. Each member will take turns playing a minigame at every ten-meter mark, and if you win, the team can move on to the next one. Here are the minigames: Number one, the Ddakji. Number two, Flying Stone. Number three, Gonggi. Number four, Kendama. Number five, Spinning Top. Number six, Jegi. Your goal is to win all the minigames and cross the finish line in five minutes. Please decide on players for each minigame."
Your team divides the games between you. You get stuck with Kendama, a game that is played by tossing a ball into the air and attempting to catch it on a wooden stick point. You're fairly confident in yourself. You and In-ho grew up playing games like these.
You sit with your group as each team competes. You sat at the end next to Jun-Hee, checking on her every once and a while. You flinched every time a gunshot rang out, anxiety bubbling with every elimination.
In-ho could not stop looking at you. It was as if you had a magnetic pull, and he couldn't look away. You were a piece of art, crafted with the hands of God himself. And he was jealous of God's hands, wishing it had been his very own that created such beauty. Every time you looked his way, he looked elsewhere.
"Final two teams, please get ready." You help Jun-hee stand up, 390 stepping in place next to her. Standing on the other side of 388 as you all line up at the start. You lower your gaze as In-ho steps in line next to you. He's always been intimidating, especially with his large frame towering over yours.
390 chuckles, "It's weird to be the only ones who don't get an audience, isn't it?" His attempt to lighten the mood works a little, a small smile forming on your lips.
"I think it will help us focus more!" You rub 388's shoulder in comfort while he repeats the motions of throwing and catching the Gonggi.
The guard finishes locking In-ho's and 456's shackles before you feel an arm snake around yours. In-ho's bicep compresses your own as your face heats up. You glance up daringly meeting In-hos sharp gaze. You should say something. Anything. Ask him why he's here, or where his wife is. But before you can speak, 456 starts the chant and steps forward.
"Hana dul! Hana dul! Hana dul!" You chant as you approach the first game. Jun-hee slams the red ddakji down, successfully flipping the blue one on the first try.
As you chant and walk to the next game, 388 breaks the pace and steps forward quickly. Without hesitation In-ho's hand moves from your arm to your waist, effortlessly steadying you "Hey! Keep the pace!"
388 steps back into pace as we reach the next game, "Back when I used to pitch, I never threw very fast, but the ball always went where I wanted." 390 steps one foot back before aiming and throwing the stone precisely, hitting the target on the first try!
You all cheer before continuing forward, quickly approaching three minutes. As you sit on the ground you feel In-ho steadying you again, allowing you to lean slightly against him to give 388 more room to play his game.
"Okay, just take your time. You got this." I reassure 388 as he grabs the gonggi. With a quick hand, he tosses one in the air before collecting them one at a time. Then two at a time, Then three and one. Then all. He flips them on the back of his hand before catching them effortlessly.
Your cheers were quick as you stood up and rushed towards the fourth game. The guard hands you the Kendama and you can feel In-ho's gaze on you intensely. You held the Kendama out in front of you, tossing the ball up, quickly moving your hand to catch it. You close your eyes as you feel the ball land on the spike.
"Yes! You did it Y/N!" In-ho grabs your shoulders and shakes you, you shake his back as he beams a smile at you. And for a second, you forget about the timer and you're both 17 again, in love.
He wraps his arm around your waist again as you move to his game. He takes the spinning top in his hand and begins to wrap the rope around it, confidence radiating from him. We have this in the bag! -oh.
The rope fell off.
You feel his body tighten as stress began to build. He wraps the rope around once more before tossing it, praying that the top spins. It falls to its side and In-ho curses under his breath. You remember him using his left hand when growing up to play this game. You wondered why he was using his right, but you didn't ask him. You could tell he was getting annoyed at himself.
"It's okay! Just try again!" You let go of In-ho's arm to give him more room. He flings the spinning top with too much power and it flings backwards.
In-ho freezes, too embarrassed to move. The man next to him, 456, grabs his shoulder firmly, "It's okay, we'll get it. All right, backwards. Ready, set."
In-ho holds my waist tightly as we walk backwards in step, "It'd be boring to win everything fast." The group nods in agreement at 390's words, " 'Cause if you're ever gonna grow, you need to fail first, right?"
In-ho picks up the spinning top and we trek back to the line. He wraps the rope around successfully, "Okay now take it slow, wait- no don't rush it!"
In-ho interrupted 388's instructions by quickly, and messily, throwing the top. It falls to the side and you feel In-ho throw his head back and laugh. You quickly remove your hand from his waist, knowing what's about to happen.
"You piece of fucking shit! You ruin everything! You're worthless!" In-ho drops the piece of rope in his hand as he hits his head against his hands. "You're so pathetic!"
The group stands shocked as he hits himself angrily, stomping in the dried blood below him. You bend down and pick up the rope, glancing at the clock.
50 seconds.
"Hey!" You slam the rope against his chest and pull his face to look at you, "No one's blaming any of this on you! Now, take a deep breath, okay?"
In-ho nodded slowly, the feeling of your touch burning on his face as he placed his right hand over his chest, something he would do when you were younger. As the group shuffles to pick up the top, you place one of your hands over his and slow his breathing, "You can do this In-ho. Use your left hand like you did when we were kids. And if I die because of this I will kill you myself."
In-ho gave a small smile at your sarcasm as he wraps the rope around the axel, then the top. He places it in his left hand and looks at you quickly before throwing the top.
It spins.
You erupt in cheers as In-ho succeeds! He gives a quick hug to you, that you wished had lasted longer, and your group moves to 456's turn. In-ho's gaze darkened as he focused on 456, and you failed to notice it, still flustered from the quick hug.
"One! Two! Three! Four!" You all counted as 456 bounced the jegi on his foot, watching him and the clock as it counts down. For a split moment it seemed that he wouldn't be able to get the last hit in, but suddenly In-ho swoops in and reaches with his foot. "Five!"
You all cheer as you practically run to the end, crossing right as the timer hit zero. The heavy shackles get removed and you are immediately engulfed in a bear hug from In-ho. His arms wrap around the small of your back as he pulls you closer to his frame, if possible. He buries his head in the crook of your neck and you stay frozen. Not from the near- death- experience you just had, but because you realized you had forgotten what his hugs had felt like. You threw your arms around him in return, deepening the hug you have longed for every day for 20 years.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
You sat closely next to In-ho as the group chatted and complemented each others moves from the game. You were looking forward to catching up with In-ho, but you were too engrossed in 388's retelling of 390's stone toss, "And, sir, you were incredible at Flying Stone!" He proudly stood up and pretended to throw a stone, "You just lined it up and... Boom! First try!"
You giggled as 390 proudly shaked his head, and In-ho turned to look at you. God, that laugh. He had forgotten what it sounded like, and he frowned when you stopped, "I was thinking, what if we go around and say what our real names are? I'll go first, my name is Kang Dae-ho. Dae as in 'huge' and ho as in 'tiger'!"
390 laughed as Dae-ho gave himself tiger fangs with his fingers, "Now that's a cool name. My name is Park Jung-bae. It means 'righteous' and 'double.' So, I should be living twice as righteously."
"My name is Kim Jun-hee. I don't think I know what it stands for." Jun-hee smiles as she pushes a stray hair from her face.
"Jun means 'talented' and hee means 'star'. You are a talented star Jun-hee!" You ruffle her hair as she beams at you, "My name is Y/N. L/N, Y/N."
You can feel In-ho's stare as he watches your lips move, "My name is Young-il. You know, like 'yeong il.' 'Zero one' in Korean." You whipped your head towards him. Was there a reason he was hiding his name? Did he not trust anyone? He gave you a reassuring look, you'd just ask him later.
"My full name is Seong Gi-Hun." You looked away from In-ho's gaze as you watched 456 introduce himself.
"Seong Gi-hun. Like our un-'Seong' hero?" Everyone laughed but you. You were still pondering about In-ho. There were so many unanswered questions running through your mind. In-ho must have noticed your distant look, because he gave your hand a squeeze. A promise that he'll explain everything.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
After another failed vote to go home (you had voted to leave this time), Gi-hun warned about the possibility of an ambush. It plagued your mind with worry as you laid on your mattress. Another night of no sleep adding to the eyebags growing under your pretty E/C eyes.
Gi-hun stood from his watch as In-ho took over, and headed to bed. Now was your chance to fully reconnect with In-ho, "Can I sit here?"
In-ho turned to you, "Cant sleep?" He asked as he scooted over a tad, making room for you. He didn't make a whole lot of room though, which you didn't mind.
Your thighs touched as you sat next to him, "No, never could when my mind is running like this." You dusted off your pants as you placed your legs out in front of you, fingers avoiding the blood that plagued your bottoms.
"You shouldn't be anxious about the game tomorrow." He watched your face intently, trying to read you. You were always so easy to read.
You stifle a small laugh, "Oh i'm not anxious, 'Young-il'. " You tilted your head towards him as you dragged out his "name", smirking as he nodded defeatedly.
"Ohhh, okay." He leaned in close, making your heart flutter, "I just don't want anyone to know my name yet. In a game like this there's a lot of... betrayal."
Your spine shivered as his words tickled your ear, "Oh, I guess I didn't think about that..." You turned to look at him but failed to realize how close he was.
Your lips were now inches apart, barely. You could feel his breath fan across your lips and his eyes remained focused on yours, "It can be our little secret? Hmm?" You found yourself nodding before you could even process what he said.
You didn't move, instead, you tested the waters. You leaned in closer, tilting your head slightly, "Last I heard you were married?"
He shook his head no, not caring to explain as he quickly licked his lips, his eyes now focusing on your own. Your breath caught as your heart beat at an unearthly rate, he was so close. If either of you moved your head even a centimeter, his lips would be on yours.
But you weren't able to find out. The small metal door slammed as Jun-hee, Hyun-ju, and Ae-sim walked in, and you pulled back quickly. "I should try and sleep."
In-ho nodded as you walked away, his eyes trailed the curve of your ass and he adjusted his pants slightly before going back to his watch.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
"Players, welcome to the third game. We will begin momentarily. The game you will be playing today is Mingle." The beady-eyed horses caught your attention first. The black, soulless, painted eyes boring into your own as you followed behind In-ho. "I will now explain the rules of the game. All players will step onto the platform in the center of the arena. Once the game begins, the platform will spin. Shortly after, a number will be called out. You must then form a group that matches this number, enter one of the surrounding rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds, or be eliminated."
You stopped in front of the red platform, In-ho stopped next to you, "The real crucial thing for us to do is to stay calm and don't panic. Trust each other. And we'll all get out of here in once piece." He looked down at you, a need to protect you suddenly clear, "Deal?"
You looked up at him, "Deal." And he took your hand as you both stepped on the platform.
"With that, let the game begin!" The woman over the PA system was replaced with a nursery song, "Round And Round". The platform jolted before starting its spin, and you grasp onto In-ho for support as he steadies you.
"Ten."
The lights were replaced with flashing red as In-ho pulled you close. Gi-hun grabbed a group of 3 people as you searched for an open door, "Room 44!" You pointed to the light green door before dragging In-ho and Dae-ho with you. Hyun- ju grabbed a stray woman while running through the green door, barely making it.
In-ho placed his hands on the sides of your arms firmly, "Are you okay?"
"Yes." You breathed out, trying to catch your breath.
He took one hand and cupped your face, "Just stick with me. You'll be okay." You nod as the door unlocks and he grabs your hand, leading you back to the platform.
You spin for another few agonizing seconds with your hand still firmly grasped in In-ho's. "Five."
Your face fell, there were six of you. Who was going to leave? In-ho quickly pushes you into Jung-bae's grasp, "Watch her, i'll go! Hurry!" In-ho takes one more glance towards you as he runs through the crowd.
Jung-bae drags you with the others as you call for In-ho, "Young- il! Young-il!" The door locks behind you and you break from Jung-bae's hold.
"Im sure hes okay. He's smart Y/N." You press your face to the door, peering out of the small window, searching for his tall frame. You know he's smart, but you were so scared of losing him again you couldn't even register the other players getting shot in front of your door.
It unlocks and you push it open, rushing out and onto the platform. You whip your head around as you scanned for In-ho. When you lock eyes with his brown ones you make a beeline towards him, pushing past other players as you jump into his arms, "What ever happened to, "Stick with me"?"
His hand wrapped protectively behind your neck, cradling you in his arms, "I know, im sorry. But i'm okay." He pulled your head away to look at him, a small smile resting on his face.
The platform began to spin as you and In-ho stood next to Jun-hee, "Attention, players. The final round will now begin." The God forsaken nursery rhyme plays again, and this time, your eyes were glued to In-ho.
"What do you think the number will be?" Jun-hee asked curiously while clinging onto Dae-ho.
"It will be two." In-ho looked towards her.
"Wait, why?"
He squeezes your hand, "We're at 126 people, and there are 50 rooms. Even if there's two in every room, then there's still only enough for 100 of us. If you don't find one fast, you're done for."
The platform comes to a halt. "Two." The lights flash again and In-ho pulls you on instinct, running to a yellow door.
In-ho was going to keep you safe, at any cost.
You look back towards the group for a split second when your body meets the ground, you look up in slow motion as the man who pushed you runs to the door. You took a staggered breath before grabbing onto his ankle, slamming him to the ground and buying you enough time to run in behind In-ho and close the door.
Relief washed over you only momentarily as your eyes met with a third person in the room. In-ho steps in front of you, "Out."
"But, we were here first. Why don't you put her out and I stay?" In-ho tilts his head at his last remark before wrapping his biceps around the man's head.
The door behind you shook as the other man tries to push it open, you are quick to press your body weight against it to hold it close, "In-ho, what do we do?" Your voice was frantic as the countdown continued.
In-ho's arms tighten around the mans neck as he pulls and pushes at his grasp, but In-hos eyes never faltered. Not once. They stayed piercing yours, full of determination.
"Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two..." The cracking sound of the mans neck made you flinch, his lifeless body hitting the floor with a thud.
I did say in-ho would keep you safe. At any cost.
"One."
The door locked behind you as you pressed your back against it, In-ho's stare stuck on you as he stepped over the man's body and towards you. He pushed your body against the door, his hand finding the flesh of your waist as his other hand pulled your neck into a desperate kiss. You became putty under his touch as he dug his fingers into your skin, he craved your touch as much as you did. And it was taking every muscle in his body not to take you and fuck you right now.
Your hands traveled from his chest and up to his neck, pulling him closer. A small whine escaped your pretty lips as he slid his hand up and under your shirt, the same hands he just used to kill for you.
For you.
You felt the door unlock with a click behind you. And In-ho pulled away reluctantly as your head fell back against the door, "I need you Y/N." He brushed his thumb over your red and swollen lips before taking your hand, and leading you out of the door.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
"Attention, all players. Lights-out will be in approximately 30 minutes. With the remaining half hour, please disperse, and prepare to return to your beds for the night."
You sat next to Jung-bae who was excitedly talking about the next vote with Dae-ho as you watched In-ho move your mattress next to his. You hadn't dared to tell a soul about what happened in the yellow room, the kiss or the dead guy.
And you weren't going to tell anyone.
You should be concerned, right? Concerned over how easy it was for him to snap a guys neck without breaking eye contact? He was emotionless, cold, really attractive. You had witnessed many fights between him and other men while growing up, especially when it came to fighting over you.
But he never once killed for you. Until now, at least. Were you wrong to think it was really hot?
"Once the lights go out, the ones who wanna stay are gonna come for us." Gi-huns voice broke you from your thoughts, "Killing us would mean they win the next vote. It would also increase the prize money."
In-ho sat down next to you, his hand immediately finding your back, "We have to attack first then, it's our only chance. Those guys assume we're just waiting it out till the next vote. When the lights go down, we should hit them first since they won't expect it." He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, watching is you nod in agreement.
Gi-hun shook his head and leaned in closer to the group, "No, we can't. We'd be playing right into their hands if we did."
"Who is 'they'?" You tilted your head as you asked, failing to notice In-ho's gaze darken.
"The ones who built this whole place. The ones who created the games and who watch us play." The group listens closely, "If we're gonna try and fight anyone, we should be going after them instead."
"Sure, but where are they?"
Gi-hun looks up, "They're up there. At the top of the staircases. They keep everything here running from up in their central control room." He looks back at the group, "There's a man in a black mask who's the head of the operation. If we can get to him, we finally can end this."
In-ho sighs in disagreement, "It's too risky. Even if we manage to get a few guns they'll outnumber us when we try to get out." You feel his hand slide from your back and wrap around your waist.
"What are you suggesting? That we fight the other group through the whole entire night, and hope that we all make it? Is that it, Young-il? Do you really think that's a good plan?" Gi-huns voice is a little raised and you feel In-ho's grip on you tighten.
"Do we... stand a chance?"
"If we can manage an ambush, yes. Those bastards up there, they'll never expect our side to attack. They'll be focused on other things. This is it." You nodded with Dae-ho, ready to fight, "This is our last chance to put an end to these games and make sure they never happen again."
"Lights out in ten seconds."
"Once the lights are off, we have to get under our beds as quietly as we can. We can't afford to get caught by the other side. And we know they'll be out for blood." Gi-hun whispers as he slides under his bed.
You and In-ho follow suit, laying on your stomachs as you peer out from under your bed. You feel the contrast between your shaky breaths and his own steady breathing, and you can't comprehend how he could be so calm.
"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one."
"I have a plan." In-ho's voice was barely above a whisper, and a shiver runs down your spine at the sound of a woman yelling.
You look at him, "But, what about Gi-hun's plan?"
You didn't miss the small smirk that played on his lips, "Just stay by my side." Without a word In-ho swiftly moves from out of his bed, pulling you with him.
"Wait! What are you-" His hand came to your mouth as you both hugged the wall while discreetly moving towards the small metal door.
In-ho removed his hand to place a short knock. The small window opened, a guard peering through the flap. Without a single question, the door opened, and In-ho was quick to push you through.
You watched as the guard swiftly opened the bathroom door allowing you and In-ho to enter. You turned to the door as it shut behind you before looking at In-ho, "How did that guard just let you through? I don't understand, we have to go back In-ho."
"Or we can stay. We're safe here- you're safe here." He stood on the opposite wall in front of you, watching as you rested your hand on the doorknob.
He knew you were thinking about going back. But he also knew you weren't going to. He had you wrapped around his finger, just like all those years ago. And you knew it too.
You dropped your hand from the doorknob, biting your lip as you feel him slowly stalk towards you. Need courses through your veins as his hand comes from behind and wraps around your neck, his other hand pulls your waist against him. His lips find your neck and you've melted instantly.
His bulge presses harshly against your ass as he sucks and bites your neck with unhuman desire. This wasn't like when you were younger, when you were flustered and shy. No. You were hungry with want and your eyes were filled with lust.
He whips you around, lips on your own now as he moves you backwards to the counter. Your knees go weak and he lifts you with ease, as if you weighed nothing, and places you on the counter. Your fingers dug into his back, desperate for more. Hungry for him.
In-ho bites your lip roughly, and you give him what he wants, opening your lips wider and letting his tongue fuck your mouth. You were intoxicated, In-ho was the man you thought of each night as you fucked yourself, screaming his name into oblivion. And now here he was, hiking your shirt over your head.
"Y/N." Your name slipped from In-ho's mouth swiftly as he lifts your shirt over your head before his lips find your exposed skin. A small whine escapes your lips as his hot mouth gives your cold skin goosebumps.
It was like that small little noise ignited something animalistic within him, a grunt fell off his tongue as he bit your skin. He loved the way you squirmed as he dipped his tongue into your collarbone, his eyes looking up at you.
Sweat slicked your forehead as your head throws back, your bra falling from your tits, landing on the floor. How did he take it off? His hand didnt even-
oh.
Oh.
You looked at the bra, the back was still clasped.But the straps, the straps were ripped. He had ripped your bra off of you with hunger. But, you couldn't focus on the bra anymore as a moan escaped your mouth, your hands gripping the edge of the counter as In-ho rolls your nipple under his tongue.
He trailed sloppy kisses up to your mouth before stepping back, observing you. He pulls his shirt of with ease, "Take off your pants." It was demanding, and you obeyed. Your fingers trembled as you slipped off your bottoms and panties.
In-ho presses his tongue against his cheek, cocking his head as he takes you in piece by piece. You were sprawled out on the counter, your back resting against the mirror and your chest heaved, "What. What are you looking at In-ho."
"I'm thinking about all the bruises your pretty body is going to have after I fuck you."
He sinks to his knees in front of you, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he delves his tongue into your folds. You gasp, your legs involuntarily locking around his head. His tongue laps as he looks up at you. His nose perfectly brushes your clit, and he knows it as you rock your hips, "Oh, f-fuck. In-ho please."
He smirks against you as you sputter his name. He feels himself growing harder each time you whimper under his mouth. He drinks you up, your taste slicking on his face as you his tongue finds your clit.
One of your hands remove from the edge of the counter and find its way to his hair, "In-ho please," You pull his hair up to make him look at you, "If you stop now, I-I will kill you."
A small chuckle vibrates through your core as his lips latch your clit, rolling it under his tongue. Your legs pull him closer, if possible, and you feel your climax building. You arch your hips, rolling against his mouth as the need to cum grows louder. In-ho roughly laps on your swollen clit, desperate for your release.
And suddenly the earth stops spinning as you dissolve into pleasure, letting yourself unravel under him. Your body jerks as shockwaves move throughout your body, and you let his name roll of your tongue.
"Scoot down." You do as you're told and wiggle your ass until its slightly off the counter. In-ho watches as you still attempt to steady your breathing, smirking as he dips the waist of his pants down.
Your eyes widen as he places one of his hands on the side of your body, letting him tower over you. Your eyes trailed to his other hand that was busy lining his dick up with your core, but his eyes are on you. Waiting to watch your reaction as you take his cock.
He sinks into you, your breath catching and your eyes closing as he doesn't ease you into it, stretching you out. A grunt escapes his mouth at your reaction, you were so beautiful like this.
In-ho leans back and takes a hold of both of your ankles, holding them above you as he sets the pace. Your knuckles turn white as you grip the counter with one hand and cover your mouth with the other.
In-ho quickens the pace with each thrust, pounding into you like a toy. Animalistic grunts escape his mouth, "Y/N, you're so good for me. I've missed this so -fuck- so much."
You whine at his words, desperate attempts to buck your hips failed. He had you pinned down under you, controlling everything. He can feel the way you grip him, lustful tension building in the air, "Atta girl."
Oh fuck, he feels so good. He fits perfectly in you, just like all those years ago. The passion was still there, and god, he made you know it. You're drunk with desire, clenching around him as the pace picks up. His thrusts are sharp, deep, and you can tell he's close.
Your hands find his face, forcing him to look at you. His eyes met yours as his cock hit every. right. spot. His eyes softened, a contrast to his pornoraphic thrusts. In the middle of everything, all the death around you, you rekindled a love you never thought you would experience again.
Your eyes stay locked as the grip on your ankles tightened, In-ho's head dropping slightly as he came, time slowing as waves of electricity engulfed him. Warmth flooded over your body as he pulsed inside of you, gently laying your legs back down before leaning forward.
He pulled you close to him, his hands cupping your face and his thumb gently lifting your chin, "I love you Y/N." A smile displayed on his lips as he kissed you softly.
You bit back a sob, "In-ho... I never stopped loving you. You've been my person, even when you weren't mine."
He kissed you again, this time with promise. A promise of making it out of the games, a promise of love, a promise of hope.
In-ho never thought much of a future. He always saw himself living for the games. He expected to die as the front man, he didn't have anything to lose. But now he does. He has a future now, and it's you. He is not living for the games anymore. He is living for you.
Would you still love him when you find out the truth?
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
A/N: Hey pookies!! Tysm for all the love recently it's definitely motivated for me to come out of retirement. Pls lmk who I should write for next! I'm in a squid game mood so maybe Gi-hun?
@tsarinaaaz @flowersbloom8787 @vixtyhu @dottoremybbg @fnl9zer @cdej6 @galadoesart @watasinekoru @icantcryicantstopcrying @seasaltrasp @pepsicolacoochie @lily-ann-b @gurjxxpp11
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inthedarknessofnight · 2 months ago
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Thinking about struggling musician Eddie who makes a living singing and playing guitar in a Metallica tribute band.
Thinking about bartender Steve who thinks tribute bands are the cringiest, most insufferable things to ever exist.
Thinking about Robin, his coworker, who made a bet on the very first day of their new job that Steve would eventually hook up with someone from a tribute band.
And the thing is, he almost makes it. Three years and he’s got a completely clean track record. Well, at least until the night some random Metallica cover band’s frontman has Steve questioning his sanity from the moment he sets foot on stage. Because Steve is mesmerized. By the way his lithe figure moves under the bright stage lights. By the way his fingers slide deftly along the neck of his guitar. By the way his voice permeates the room, filling the air to the point where Steve thinks he must be breathing the music into his lungs. And then, the motherfucker has the audacity to take off shirt his mid-performance, putting on display a well-curated collection of tattoos. Steve feels like an ancient deity has descended from the heavens and decided to play fucking Metallica, on a fucking Tuesday, in the shittiest fucking bar in all of Inianapolis. Well and truly distracted by the action on stage, Steve doesn’t register the glass slipping slowly out of his grasp, until the damn thing has hit the floor and broken into a thousand pieces. When he turns to examine the mess, Robin is already there, broom in hand.
“You might wanna think about closing that mouth, dingus. I don’t think you drooling all over this pristine countertop is good for business,” she says with barely contained laughter, quickly sweeping the shards into the dustpan.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he retorts, rolling his eyes, suddenly very aware of just how much he was staring. Instinctively, Steve shakes his hand to drive away the haze, grabs a new glass, and tries his best to focus on the task at hand.
It isn’t until the final number of the evening that Steve’s resolve truly crumbles. He’s all but managed to tune out the goings-on around him, which is why he nearly has a heart attack when he suddenly finds himself face to face with the beam coming straight from the main spotlight.
“Can we- Yes. Perfect. There he is,” says a low voice coming from the very center of the stage, followed by a cacophony of loud cheers.
And… Oh no.
“What the-,” he mutters, a hand flying up to shield his eyes from the blinding light. That’s when he sees him.
“Hey, pretty boy behind the bar. Get me some whiskey up here on this stage, will you?”
And Steve is so so so incredibly fucked.
He stares dumbly for a few seconds. Having seemingly lost any and all ability to think independently, Steve brain shifts into autopilot, causing him to grab the full bottle of Jack sitting on the shelf behind him, stroll towards the stage as if possessed, accompanied by the sound of cheering, which only grows louder with every step he takes. He climbs the steps leading onto the stage. As soon as he reaches the top, he finds himself face to face with…
He’s so close. For a brief moment, Steve wonders if he knew prior to this moment that a person can be this beautiful. They’re chest to chest. The guy is ducking his head to whisper something to Steve, his breath hitting the sensitive spot just below the ear as he does so.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, his like voice smoke, and milk, and honey, and all things Steve wants to breathe in, and drink, and savor. He plucks the bottle from Steve’s hand, ringed fingers grazing his.
He winks at Steve as he takes a few steps backwards, a devilish smile playing on his lips. Then, without breaking eye contact, he tips his head back, opens his mouth, and begins pouring the amber liquid until it spills over he edges, running down his neck and the length of his torso. After what feels like hours to Steve, the guy finally swallows the remnants of the drinking in his mouth, immediately leveling Steve with a dark gaze.
“Now you.”
Positively transfixed, Steve realizes a little too late that he has, in fact, missed his window to flee, and is headed head-first for whatever public humiliation the guy has in store for him. A strong, sure hand grips the back of his neck, long fingers tangling into the hair at the nape, tugging ever so slightly.
“Open.”
It’s not gentle. It’s a thing of lust. A command. Steve feels it in his bones. And he can’t look away. His body is not his own when he gives into the pull of the musician’s hand, his jaw going lax, mouth automatically falling open. The guy brings the bottle up to Steve’s mouth, pouring in a generous amount. Before Steve even gets the chance to swallow the liquid already burning its way down his throat, the bottle is being shoved rougly into his hand, the guy bringing his other hand up once again, only to press the palm under Steve’s chin, forcing his mouth closed. Forcing him to swallow. Steve nearly chokes.
“Good boy,” he says with a wicked grin, before pushing a spluttering, coughing Steve back in the direction of the stairs, causing him to nearly topple off the stage. The guy laughs maniacally into his microphone and the crowd goes wild, the drummer already counting them into the final song.
Still bewildered and absolutely dumbfounded by whatever just happened to him on that stage, Steve chances one last glance in the singer’s direction as he descends the stairs.
This time, however, he isn’t met with a sultry, dark look, or one of the guy’s infamous mischievous grins. Instead, he finds a pair of soft brown eyes staring back at him, and plush pink lips curved into the dopiest, most endearing smile Steve has ever seen.
By the end of the night, Steve has found the love of his life and Robin is collecting money from nearly every employee at the bar, sporting a smug, I-told-you-so expression on her face.
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gothicfied · 4 days ago
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Bf!Nam-gyu / Player 124 Headcanons
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Pairing: Boyfriend!Nam-gyu x fem!reader (No Squid Game AU)
Warnings: Mention of drug use/withdrawal, other than that it's just fluff (maybe a teeny tiny bit of angst), not proof read (english isn't my first language)
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જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who you met at the club he worked at during a night out with your friends. He took one look at you and knew he was in love immediately — Your makeup, your dress, your hair, that you spent hours trying to style it, just everything about you was perfect. He genuinely had to stop what he was doing for a second to get his thoughts straight.
જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who just couldn't help but give you drinks on the house, trying to make small talk with you. The music was loud, blaring out of the speakers not far away from the bar, but he didn't need to hear you. For him, it was enough to see you up close, to see you smile and laugh at his cheesy attempts at pick-up lines. He laughed along, trying to overplay his nervousness, which didn't quite work.
જ⁀➴ It wouldn't have been the first time that Boyfriend!Nam-gyu took a girl back home with him that he met at his work, but you were different. He wasn't staring at your body, looking down your cleavage when talking to him, no, he was actually interested in getting to know you. During your short conversation, he could just tell how kind and lighthearted you were. After all, not every girl would entertain his flirting.
જ⁀➴ After a few times seeing you around the club again, Boyfriend!Nam-gyu had secured your phone number, which you wrote down on his hand with a little heart next to it. You couldn't exactly tell why you liked him this much, hut he was weirdly charming and appreciated the fact that he wanted to take you out on a proper date some time. He was cute, you couldn't deny that, so you took up on his offer.
જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who stayed true to his word and texted you right after his shift, setting up a date and time for a meeting outside his workplace. He already had everything thought out in his head, perhaps even imagining little scenarios about you before falling asleep.
જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who could now actually introduce himself as your boyfriend after a couple of dates, long phone calls and deep talks late at night when you'd stay over at his place. The two of you had developed a strong bond in no time, finding out that you had more in common than you first thought. And, in your opinion, he was the best partner you could wish for. Nam-gyu was attentive, always noticed if you felt bad and cheered you up, funny.. what wasn't there to love about him?
જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who you helped get clean and also get a better job. The first few weeks of withdrawal weren't the easiest on him nor your relationship, but you absolutely made it work. You'd comfort him during a breakdown, wiping his tears away for him and hold him against your chest. Your nails would scrape the back of his neck, making him let out a shaky sigh.
"I'm.. sorry about that, baby-" Nam-gyu sniffled, taking a deep breath before looking up at you. "There's nothing you have to apologize for," you replied back, a bit shocked about the fact that he would think he needed to say sorry for crying. "I'm here for you, okay? I love you, don't forget that."
જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who would frequently buy you your favorite flowers. You'd always ask him what the occasion was and he'd always just shrug, claiming that he didn't need an occasion or a reason to maks you happy.
જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who would try to help you while baking something, but would mess everything up he was involved with. Cookies came out burnt, brownies didn't fully bake through.. whatever it was, it just didn't work out. But, you two had fun while doing it and that was all that mattered. Well, not all the time maybe (you reaaaaally wanted those chocolate chip cookies).
જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who kisses you awake every morning, even if you could sleep in. Whenever he has to wake up before you, he'd pepper kisses all over your face, partially to also annoy you.
You slowly opened your eyes at the feeling of Nam-gyu's lips against your, turning your head away from him. He laughed and tried to lean over to give you another, but you weren't having it. "Leave me alone!" you blurted out, eyes still closed and all.
"Jesus, can't I kiss my girlfriend goodbye anymore?"
"No."
"Why? What did I do?"
"I hate you."
"Good morning to you too, princess."
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doyoulikethissong-poll · 6 months ago
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Michael Crawford, Barbra Streisand - Put On Your Sunday Clothes 1969
Hello, Dolly! is a 1969 American musical romantic comedy film based on the 1964 Broadway production of the same name, which was based on Thornton Wilder's play The Matchmaker. Directed by Gene Kelly and written and produced by Ernest Lehman, the film stars Barbra Streisand, Walter Matthau, Michael Crawford, Danny Lockin, Tommy Tune, Fritz Feld, Marianne McAndrew, E. J. Peaker and Louis Armstrong (whose recording of the title tune had become a number-one single in May 1964). The film won three Academy Awards for Best Art Direction, Best Score of a Musical Picture and Best Sound and was nominated for a further four Academy Awards, including Best Picture. Michael Crawford was later cast as the original Phantom of the Opera, in the West End and Broadway productions.
The songs "Put On Your Sunday Clothes" and "It Only Takes A Moment" were later used in the 2008 Disney/Pixar film WALL-E. WALL-E keeps a recording of the song on him and listens to it while he works cleaning up the garbage. An instrumental version of "Put On Your Sunday Clothes" is also used as WALL-E's theme song in the game Dreamlight Valley.
"Put On Your Sunday Clothes" received a total of 69,6% yes votes!
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honeypiehotchner · 9 months ago
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kiss her, you fool (Hotch x fem!Reader) -- one shot
Anyway I'm back in the fucking building again!!!! Listened to "Kiss Her You Fool" by Kids That Fly and had this one shot written in like an hour. The love for Aaron Hotchner never dies apparently
Summary: You're in the middle of spring cleaning when Aaron calls and says he forgot something at your place (he didn't).
Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff! I just wanted to write some romance
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It’s the middle of the day and you’re in the middle of a cleaning frenzy when your phone rings for what looks like the third time. It’s Aaron.
“Hey! Sorry,” you laugh, grabbing the TV remote to pause your music, phone pressed to your ear with your shoulder. “I’m spring cleaning and clearly way too far in the zone. What’s up?”
“That’s okay,” you can hear him smiling as you readjust your phone in your hand. “Would it be alright if I stopped by? I think I left something there last night.”
You furrowed your brows, spinning around the living room. You definitely would’ve noticed if he left something here last night. You’ve practically turned your entire apartment upside down to clean it.
“Are you sure?” you ask, moving to lift the couch cushions for a third time. “What was it?”
“I’m not sure,” he says, which totally isn’t suspicious at all. “Can I just come look?”
“I mean,” you let out an awkward laugh. “I guess you can. I’ve been cleaning since this morning, though, so I think I would’ve spotted it, but—”
“I’ll be there in fifteen,” he says. “If that’s okay?”
You sigh, selfishly glad you’re getting to see him again, two days in a row. It feels like you’ve hit the jackpot. “Yeah, of course it’s okay.”
“Great, see you in a few.”
“See you,” you bite back your grin, ending the call. You turn the music back on, a little lower so you’ll hear him when he knocks.
You have no earthly idea what he could’ve forgotten. He had his phone and jacket in hand when he left. He never took his wallet or keys out of his jacket pockets, so they must’ve stayed there. Unless either of them fell out, but again, you feel like you would’ve noticed.
Whatever it is, he’ll either find it or realize it isn’t here. Regardless, you’re getting to see him again, so you’ll take it.
With his job, the days that you do see Aaron are typically one long day spent together here and there. Yesterday was an exception, a rare dinner mid-work week because he happened to be done at the office early and you were free, so obviously the opportunity was taken advantage of. It’s only been a few weeks of seeing one another, so you both take any chance you can get. 
Despite this, though, things have moved…slow. Slower than you expected because, to be frank, every guy you’ve been with has been quick and to the point. Not that you always minded that. Sometimes you wanted the same thing — quick, hot, heavy. But those days have since left you, and you went through a period of seeing no one, aside from one guy who left as soon as you said you were interested in moving slowly. 
It’s nothing against Aaron, but when he first introduced himself at your local coffee shop, you kind of assumed he’d be the same. It’s hard not to assume when everyone acted that way, and when the men who frequent said coffee shop don’t exactly have the best track record for being polite and respectful.
Aaron, though, took weeks to ask for your number, let alone to join your table one morning to sip his coffee — and even then, you offered him the seat; he didn’t invite himself. That alone was enough for you to agree to give him your number, and then to an official first date.
He kissed your cheek after the first date, your forehead after the second, and kept to those areas alone. You found yourself wondering if something was wrong with you somehow, but he wasn’t disinterested. Quite the opposite, actually, from how he held your hand and kept his arms around you, how he made sure you were safely inside your apartment before heading off, how he still texted when he arrived home to ask you if you were still safely inside.
Or when he had to cancel a date last minute, and sent flowers to your apartment in lieu of his presence. He apologized over the phone, but the flowers had an apology note attached too. And another apology when he arrived at your door four days later, fresh off the plane, with a real explanation of his job and why he didn’t have time to explain it all to you before he left.
Your friends think it’s a little crazy, that it’s been almost a month of dating and there hasn’t been a single kiss — “On the cheek doesn’t count!” they argue. You think it does. If anything, you’re just happy there’s no pressure.
The underlying anxiety is there, sure, of what if it never happens? But you can’t bring yourself to entertain the thought. Mainly because you want to kiss him so bad, you’re practically going to leap onto him one of these days.
You’re mid-dance when a knock sounds on your door and you jump, having forgotten Aaron said he would be here soon. You turn the music down as you head for the door, unlocking it to let him in.
He stands there in his usual dark suit, sans tie this time so the top buttons are undone, bouquet of flowers in hand and dumb smile on his face.
“What are these for?” you ask when he hands them to you. 
He steps inside and shuts the door, pausing to press a kiss to your forehead. “Because I wanted to.”
You give him a look, cheeks feeling warm. “If you keep doing this ‘because you want to,’ I’m gonna need to open a flower truck,” you joke, gesturing to the other vase of flowers sitting in your window. And there’s another in the bathroom. And one in your bedroom. 
“Just let me know what kind of truck you want,” he teases.
You press the flowers to your nose to hide your smile. “Oh, what did you forget? You’re welcome to look for it, but—”
He lets out a laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, I might have lied.”
“I knew you were, you idiot,” you swat playfully at his arm. You turn to head into the kitchen in search of another vase. “I got off the phone and paced around like what did he possibly leave here? I figured maybe your wallet or something, but I definitely would’ve found it earlier. You should’ve seen the living room this morning — I had the couch on its side and the coffee table in the middle of the hallway—”
You’re in the middle of rambling, digging around under the sink for a vase, when Aaron pulls you up by your hand, spinning you to face him.
“—it was a disaster trying to vacuum. Remind me never to do that unless you’re over here to lift all of it. I think I nearly—”
He’s smiling at you, and you don’t have a single moment to spare to register that he’s leaning in before his lips are on yours. 
You sigh into the kiss, pleasantly surprised to be interrupted in this way, and glad your hands are free so you can hold onto him. Maybe this is why it’s good he hadn’t kissed you yet — one second of it and you’re ready to collapse under the sweet weight of it all. His arms circle your waist to lift you up, and your arms circle his neck, keeping him close. As close as you’ve really wanted him.
When you finally break for air, it’s only to press your foreheads against one another’s, not wanting to move too far.
“Well,” you laugh.
“Technically,” he says, pausing to peck your nose, “that’s what I forgot last night.”
You roll your eyes. “You are so stupid.”
“Mm, just because it makes you smile,” he says, kissing your lips again, and again. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Ideally,” you pause, letting him kiss you again, “ordering dinner in and making out with my boyfriend until the sun rises. You?”
“You know, I was thinking about taking someone special out to dinner,” he pauses, pulling you closer again, “and then kissing her until she tells me to stop.”
“That could be forever, for all you know.”
“That’s fine with me.”
You grin and he kisses you again, pausing to say, “Sorry, I can’t help myself—”
“Trust me,” you move even closer, your eyelashes practically touching his cheeks when you blink, “you don’t need to apologize.”
He responds by kissing you some more, and more, until he’s lifting you into his arms and placing you on the kitchen counter. 
“Aaron!” you squeal, nearly crushing the bouquet. “Let me move the flowers at least!”
“I’ll buy you another,” he says, just a whisper away from kissing you again. 
“You know—” You have to pause in between words as he presses his lips to yours. “—I still have—cleaning—Aaron,” you giggle. “I need to put my apartment back together.”
“Do you?” he asks, relenting only slightly, his fingertips pressing into your lower back, keeping you against him. “Do you need help?”
“I do actually,” you chuckle, running your fingers through his hair. “The couch isn’t back where it was.”
He smirked. “I noticed.”
You tug on his hair slightly to tease him for that jab, only it lights a new spark behind his eyes. Your cheeks grow even warmer. “No, seriously,” you say. “It’ll stress me out if it’s not back in its spot, but then…”
He nods, kissing your lips. “Then we’ll get ready for dinner.”
“And then come back here for a movie?”
“We’ll see how much of the movie we actually pay attention to,” he smirks, eyes traveling all over your face. 
The urge to let him ravish you right now against the kitchen counter is so strong it nearly makes you lightheaded. But soon Aaron is helping you down, pressing another kiss to your forehead. 
“Did you get to vacuum under the couch all the way?”
“…kind of.”
“Come on,” he chuckles, pulling on your hand, leading you back into the living room. “Call me next time?”
“If I get kissed like that during spring cleaning then I’m doing it every day,” you reply, mostly joking. Kind of. “Fuck I forgot the vase for the flowers—”
Aaron kisses you to interrupt you once again. “One thing at a time,” he says.
The kissing doesn’t stop, and you never do get to vacuum under the couch. It can wait.
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satorusugurugurl · 3 months ago
Text
Feverish
Summary: When preparing for your annual Halloween party, you realize you forgot to take your heat suppressants. Thank god your Alpha boyfriends are always there for you!
Characters Alpha!Gojo Satoru x Omega!AFAB!Reader x Alpha!Geto Suguru
Word Count: 1.9K
Warning: ABO!AU, alpha/omegas, heat, sex unprotected sex, DP in the puss, praise, language, cream pies, Double knots 😏
A/N: Kinktoner Day 28: Omegaverse! This is short because holy shit ive been super busy!
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It was hot, which was strange since the autumn air was crisp, causing steam to rise with every breath you took. You grimaced, readjusting the shopping bags in your hands as you hurried down the sidewalk. The last thing you needed was to be getting sick; there was far too much to do still. Seeing as your Halloween party was in the next three hours.
You would just pop some ibuprofen and start working on snacks and decorating. You pushed open the door to your apartment, huffing out a sigh as the smell of mint and clean linen permeated through the small space. The scents of your two best friends and boyfriend drowned out the smell of the autumn candles you had lit, making you feel even hotter.
“I’m back,” you announced in a slightly breathless voice as you hurried into the kitchen, placing the bags on the counter.
“Hey!” Satoru said as he eyed a small carving pumpkin. “Welcome back!” He closed one perfect cerulean eye before humming in thought. “Hey, how does this look?” He turned the pumpkin towards you, a proud smile on his face.
Satoru and Suguru had been tasked with setting up the snacks you had prepared. That included pulling out the chips, candy, and cookies you had made. Satoru had carved a face similar to the vomiting emoji of the small pumpkin and conveniently placed the guacamole in front of its mouth. You smiled, feeling sweat beading on your forehead as you smiled, fanning yourself as you shrugged out of your sweater.
“Looks good, Toru.” You could feel the heat in your cheeks, but you tried to ignore it, washing your hands in the sink. “What’s Suguru up to?”
Earthy music wafts through the kitchen, the smell only making you slightly dizzy. “I just finished setting up the projector; we’re all set.”
“Mmm, thanks, you two.” You whispered, leaning slightly over the sink. “I appreciate it.”
Your stuttering had both men straightening as they shared a look before focusing back on you.
“You good?” Satoru asked, concern lacing his voice.
“Y-Yeah, I’m just feeling a little hot.”
A cool palm pressed against your hand, and you shuddered at the feeling of skin on you. “You feel hot like you have a fever.” Violet and cerulean eyes took you in as you learned against them, taking a deep breath to ease your nerves.
“I’m okay.”
But the smell of you, sweet and tantalizing, overtook both men. They sniffed the air, deep growls vibrating in their chests as they pulled away to eye you. They saw it when they really took the chance to look you up and down. Your cheeks darkened in color, and your chest rose and fell with quick breaths.
“Our poor omega~.” Satoru calmly began, his hands rubbing at your shoulders.
“Someone forgot to take her heat suppressant.” Suguru finished, pressing his lips against your temple, his hands groping your ass.
They were right; you forgot to take your medication this morning. You had been in such a hurry. It was the furthest thing from your mind. There was no going back, though; you had forgotten to take it, and now you would have to live with the consequences of your actions, which sucked royally.
Your boyfriend began moving without being told to. Satoru pulled his phone out and started dialing numbers on the screen. Suguru swooped you up into his arms and carried you to the bedroom. Even through the pounding of your heart in your ears, you could hear Satoru apologizing to your friends, telling them that your party would have to be rescheduled. You felt a little bad about it, but the second Suguru tossed a couple of their hoodies at you, you began purring instantly.
“Sweet Princess,” Suguru whispered, watching as you cuddled both their hoodies close to you before it began to construct your nest. “Do you want us to give you some time to yourself?”
“No~ need you, Alpha, I need you both.”
Suguru reached out, pulling your scent patch away from your glands. The sweet, almost sugary he sent flooded the bedroom, overpowering their scents. You purred, watching as Suguru’s jaw clenched as he tried desperately to hold himself back, only for Satoru to come in, tossing the phone onto the bed, completely forgotten. You smelt utterly delectable, and neither wanted to waste any time.
“Mhmm~ you look so sexy.”
“God I want to taste you.”
The Both joined you on the bed, kissing you at the same time their mouse on yours as their hands trained and groped your body which held molten heat making you cry out with every single gentle graze. You purred kissing them both at the same time before they shared the kiss together, making you whimper softly as their hands continued working at you taking off your clothes holding you tight.
And taste you they did. They kissed every inch of your body, making you arch off the bed in your makeshift nest. They took turns licking your tripping pussy, tongues, ding out flicking over the sensitive buds before they alternated between the two of them. Suguru was much more gentle, drawing out the sweetest of cries from you. While Satoru was addicted to taste his tongue swirling over you, laughing at your inner walls until you were shaking withering mess. Then to make matters even better they would kiss each other all for your entertainment and their enjoyment.
But they didn’t stop there.
No kisses moved all over your body up the dips of your hips over your tummy that they absolutely adored before they both took one of your breasts and hand, squeezing massaging it before taking your nipple into their mouths. They grazed over the sensitive stiff peak with their tongues, and their sharp elongated canines scraped over it. The Sensation had you arching your back off, the mattress, your hands gripping the shirts that Suguru had tossed to you.
God You were so fucking lucky. Not only were you blessed with two of the strongest alphas you had ever known, but also spoiled rotten. They Saw you as an equal, and didn’t use you just for their pleasure. They got off on you getting off. So even though you had forgotten to take your heat suppressant this morning, they were going to make the most of this very rare opportunity.
“It’s my turn to grind, Satoru, you can go first.”
Your head was hot as you watched your boyfriends intently. “You sure?” Satoru asked as they both got into position laying you on the side so Suguru could lay down behind you spooning you, while Satoru took the front.
“Yes.”
You sighed softly as you looked between the two of them as Satoru slowly began sliding inside of your dripping cunt. Hearing them share you, making your amazing relationship work made you so wet. "Holy fuck~ why the fuck are you both so hot." You questioned before you wrapped your arms around Satoru's neck. "You noth feel so good~ so warm and thick."
Satoru groaned softly, gripping you tight to his body before kissing you deeply. While Suguru was suddenly pressed behind you, his thick cock teasing your entrance before continuing to rub against your ass.
"You're so pretty, Princess, you're so fucking hot."
You shivered under all of the kisses the duo plated on you. Feel Satoru pushing further inside your pussy. While Suguru rubbed up against you. Longing to be inside your pussy, too, god, it sent you into a frenzy of whimpers as you tried grinding back against Suguru in an almost encouraging way. Deciding you didn't just want one of them inside of you.
You wanted both.
"M-Nnngh~" you finally pulled away from Satoru, panting for air. "Fuck me too, Sugu~ please!!" Satoru showered, pausing his hips for a second so you could talk to Suguru over your bite-ridden skin.
"You want me to fuck you too?" He hummed against your sensitive skin. “Where?”
You reached around, pressing the head of hiscock right against Satoru’s slicked-up cock. "Here." Both your boyfriends shuddered as Suguru groaned deep in your ear. He didn't question what you wanted, he just slowly slid into your pussy. It was so unbelievably tight, but you were so wet, it made it easier for him to rub his cock up and down over Satoru's with a hiss.
“Oh my fuck!” Satoru barked out, his cock rubbing against Suguru inside the amazing woman between them. "Sh-Shit—!! S-Suguru-Sweetheart!” Your eyes were wide as the two men filled your cunt up with their cocks. It felt so good to have both of them inside of your cunt. The sensation was so good it left you whining, looking at Satoru while your hand reached around and gripped the back of Suguru's head. "Fuck me, Alphas! Please fuck me like you mean it, please."
They both hurriedly agreed before thrusting into you, both of them moaning around you, filling your room with sounds of sex. After hours of countless orgasms and sex, the room now reeked of sex, which was making your heat all that more enjoyable. Their scents the pleasure; all of it had you screaming out in pleasure as they both fucked you. You had lost count of how many times you had cummed. Your eyes flickered between blue and lilac. It wasn't until the tenth orgasm crept up on you that you got
"Alphas~ I-I want you to cum inside me." your breasts pressed against Satoru's chest as you leaned your head back on Suguru, why attempting to close your legs. They were both panting against your skin, their cocks throbbing from overuse but ready to burst.
"Omega, yes fuck--" Satoru growled before biting down on your neck, piercing your scent glands, Just as Suguru followed Satoru’s lead biting down on your other scent gland with a predatory growl
“Sweet Omega, cum with us~!” Suguru gripped your hips, his hips speeding back up.
Their sweet words, desperation, and the need to feel your come undone had you cunning hard. "C-Cumming!" You shouted, your eyes rolled back into your skull as you squirted and convulsed around the two of them.
"Nnngh-fuck!"
“Ooh fuck!! Good girl!!
Satoru and Suguru both barked out grunts of pleasure. Before, they were biting purr scent, glad and complex as Suguru had. Both of them force their cum and their knots into you while kissing and sucking on your neck.
"F-Fuck-Never cum that hard-" Suguru whispered in your ear, his hands moving down to massage your surely aching thighs.
“Me neither~” Satoru hummed, resting his head against the pillow.
You didn't respond; you were too busy shaking. “Princess? You okay?” Suguru questioned with a slight quirk of his brow. “Or did we give you a real treat?” They both listened closely as you whispered something.
“What was that, Sweetheart?”
“Again.”
Your single word had both your boyfriends stiffening in shock. They shared a look before Satoru scoffed and laughed softly. Suguru joined him, nuzzling your neck.
“That was cute—”
“Yeah, you had us for—nngh!” both men hissed as you rolled your hips.
“Again.” You repeated in a more severe and stern voice.
They laughed and gulped down their nervous laugh. “Yes, Omega~,” They said, voices shaky as they continued to give you what you wanted, and when you finally were satisfied, they both lay there next to you, panting heavily. A sight that would make anyone wonder who got the trick and who got the treat!
Forever Tag List:
@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @msniks @lana18918
Kinktober Tag List:
@candy-s72
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spliffymae · 10 months ago
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rapper!onyankopon.
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just some head canons i have.
in my head im imagining a blend of dave and fridayy, where he can sing as well (he got variety!). same universe as my musicproducer!connie fic but reader is not famous here, as opposed to w/ connie’s. (lol i gave her a last name too—davis.) in my mind, im picturing ony from the uk and connie from ny.
★ *  °    🛰  °. 🌓 •  .°•   🚀
rapper!ony who first pops up on the scene in a music video of his friend connie’s song. he wasn’t featured on the track, but rather just in the background getting hype with everyone else.
but y’all know how the girlies get when a fine black man/woman/person start trending.
rapper!ony who wasn’t shy about his craft, but just wasn’t big on social media. his agent hated it, he loved it. he simply released music, let people know, and then went about his business.
rapper!ony was trending and although he didn’t take this as an opportunity to get in his social media bag, his best friend, musicproducer!connie did!
rapper!ony who goes from a couple thousand people knowing what he does to over a million people screaming his lyrics at they’re phones on tiktok in ONE night.
“bro, you can’t even get mad at me gang!” connie yelled from his shower. ony was sitting outside, accosting his friend for what he did. “you said you didn’t care what happened to the project!”
“but tell me if you gon post it and make it a whole thing, nigga damn!” ony yelled back.
rapper!ony who now has to adjust to his quickly rising popularity. he has yet to know the number of artists looking for a feature; and he doesn’t know that he secretly has some of these industry boys shaking in their boots because where the hell he come from?
no, rapper!ony is too busy focusing on whyyy they’re a million fan edits of him across tiktok and instagram. clips of him from his streams, connie’s videos, and his other friend’s content.
ony groans as connie’s message banner pops up on his phone, the message being a link to a tiktok. when he clicked it, it was a fan edit of him using his song ‘when it comes to you’. “bro, who keeps sending these to you, man?!” ony exclaimed. connie heard it from his room and snickered.
rapper!ony who had to adjust to being the attention at these red carpet events. he usually just walked behind connie and his girl, along with the rest of the entourage but now he is getting stopped for photographs.
there’s nothing like listening to music live. so rapper!ony puts on a fake smile and pushes through the crowded carpet to get inside. he waves to people he’s worked with, artists, and fans who called out to him. all so he can hear some music.
he sees connie holding hands with his girlfriend, both of them making goofy faces at the cameras. he softly smiles at the couple, but before he could make way, connie somehow senses him and turns to him “ony! ven aquí!” damn!
rapper!ony who doesn’t expect much from the awards show. just to go, support connie, and go home. he was nominated,yeah, but he was also in the category with some of the most popular artists right now…so he wasn’t feeling all that confident.
rapper!ony who is shocked as shocked can be when his name is called from the podium for best new artist.
“F**CK YEAH!” connie yelled, jumping up from his seat along with his girl and the rest of the table—aran, zora, jean, armin, and mikasa.
rapper!ony who walks up on stage with connie who is still screaming from excitement.
“uhhh, i’m not gonna lie, mans weren’t expecting to win still.” ony laughed, running a hand over his fresh waves. the audience laughed with him.
“first i would like to thank God, the most high who has blessed me with this amazing opportunity. i want to thank my people for having my back; connie—this man,” ony pointed behind him to connie, who was full out filming the moment on his phone.
“who told me on a random day when we were cleaning out our college dorm room that if we made a project together we would be the new heartthrobs of the generation. connie i thank you for being you; having my back and working alongside me. my brother for life, that is.” connie screamed, and so did his girlfriend from the audience as the claps poured in.
“and finally, i want to thank my heart in human form. the woman who made all of this possible, y/n davis. she don’t like the attention so im gonna hear bout this name drop when i get home. but babes, i love you, and thank you for being my rib. i owe you the world and more. and to her parents, thank you for my better half. thank you lot again. love!” ony raised his hand with the award, smiling and waving to the crowd and cameras as he walked to the back.
meanwhile, across the country, cuddled up in her bed was y/n, who was watching the award show before going to sleep. she had expressed to ony she wasn’t too sure about going, not liking the cameras and attention. he reassured her it was okay because there wasn’t any way he would be winning with who else was in the category.
so…safe to say when you saw your boyfriend on the stage with the award in his hand, you could not contain your shock and excitement. you jumped out of bed screaming and quickly getting to your phone camera to record the tv. squeals and “yeah baby” was all you could say as he gave connie his thanks.
but then… when you heard him say your name, for everyone around the world to hear, everything just turned to shock as your phone fell from your frozen hands, still recording. you were stunned. he said your name. your government name. on national television.
“ONY!!!”
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emmyrosee · 6 months ago
Note
 Hiiii, I have a request. Imagine a highschool AU where reader has a massive crush on Sukuna but she thinks he has a thing with Uraume, but he actually likes her. Ok ok, so hear me out. Reader is childhood friends with Yuuji and Sukuna and she notices how Sukuna and Uraume have been hanging out a lot. So she asks Yuuji if Sukuna is going to prom and he says yes, and that he is probably going with Uraume. So reader is sad and doesn't want to go to prom anymore even after already buy her dress. Buttt, the day before prom, Sukuna and Reader end up talking and she mentions how he and Uraume are going together and he is confused.  Then they both confess and end up going together. Pleaseeeeee make this as angsty as possible, I love me some good angst😫
THIS IS SO CUTEEEE-
Bro this is so long yaLL GET A SNACK- I never had a senior prom this is my venting PFFFFF-
I do want to make a disclaimer! To make this fic work I had to go and use an American based school system, where traditionally seniors are 18, can drive, and eat in cafeterias. For those about to comment my inaccuracies, thank you!
—-
Sukuna has been a little more than preoccupied lately.
He, who once would spend every afternoon driving you and yuuji home, who would blast your favorite music and take you to McDonald’s for a soda, has been more than busy with someone new.
You don’t know where she came from, hell you’ve known the two of them for years, yet this is the first you’ve ever really heard of the being known as Uraume.
“They’ve actually been friends for years,” yuuji had told you. “I’m surprised you never really met her- though she’s pretty shy. Only close with sukuna, honestly.”
Yeah. Real close.
Within just a few weeks, Uraume has snagged your place as Sukuna’s number one. No longer does he stand outside your class to carry your books to the next. Your front seat privileges go to her. He plays her favorite songs. He drops you off at home before taking her to god knows where to do god knows what. And yuuji is blind to this change, merely glad his best friend is sitting in the back seat with him, all the while it tears you up on the inside.
And it isn’t until you catch a beefy hand shift to hold Uraume’s that you realize it’s over. Your heart shatters, your lip wobbles, and you turn your body to face away from the disgusting sight.
“You okay?” Yuuji asks, gently nudging you with the tips of his fingers, and when you look up to peek at Sukuna’s frame once again, you catch his eyes looking at you in the rear view. You sigh and turn your gaze away.
“What’s wrong, brat?” He asks, and you could throw up when Uraume turns in her seat to look at you too.
She looks genuinely concerned, and you could punch her for it.
“Just… take me home, Sukuna,” you murmur.
“But we’re getting pizza!” Yuuji whines. “I don’t want you to miss out!”
You smile and gently pat his leg, “don’t worry about me, yuuji. I’m just getting car sick.”
Car sick enough you don’t car pool with him anymore.
You’re back to taking the bus, curled on your seat to stay out of other people’s way, leaving home about 45 minutes earlier than you would’ve with Sukuna. It makes you skip breakfast and washing your face, barely giving you enough time to get into clean clothes and head off onto the day.
But it’s better than seeing them interact, a crush and potential romance brewing right in your eyesight. You never told him how you were getting to school, either, not in the mood for his attempts to change your mind or force you otherwise.
Until-
“You’ve been taking the fucking bus?”
There’s a loud bark that rings through the halls of school, people moving out of the way for the one and only sukuna to come barreling down it, some looking in worry, others with their eyes rolling in their skull.
You sigh and close your locker, leaning against it, “did yuuji finally tell you?”
“No, and I’m going to beat the shit out of him for not telling me,” he snarls, leaning in close. “Do you know how fucking dangerous the bus can be?”
You roll your eyes, “people take the bus every day, Sukuna.”
“Yeah. Not you. Not anymore. I drive you. You know that.”
“Not anymore,” you grumble. He cocks a brow in challenge and you roll your eyes, “I have no interest in being in a car with you.”
“Who fucking shit in your oatmeal this morning?” He snaps. “You’ve had a punk ass attitude for the past two weeks, what the fuck happened?”
“Maybe im just not into being babied anymore?” You lie. He furrows his brows and licks his lips as the bell rings.
“This isn’t over. We’re not done.”
“I am!” You sing.
You’ve never had a day at school drag like today has.
Classes have never felt longer, teachers have never talked slower, and the clock has never ticked drowsier. It physically causes your head to pound and your stomach to become nauseous, and agony courses though your veins as the lunch bell rings.
It’s only lunch.
You manage to shuffle your way out to the cafeteria to meet your friends, two who cheer happily at your arrival and one who offers you a nod of acknowledgment. You plop down next to Fushiguro and rub your temples.
“What’s wrong?” Yuuji asks, and you flash him a small smile.
“I just don’t feel well.”
“You haven’t felt well in days,” he points out, “I hope you’ll be alright for tomorrow night!”
Tomorrow night.
Prom is tomorrow night.
You scrub your face with your hands, “I’ll feel better once I eat, yuuji. Don’t worry,” you say quietly.
The drumming of Nobara’s nails on the table don’t help the growing migraine in your skull, and you try your best to drown out the noise of so many people and so many thoughts and so many feelings about your argument with sukuna that you feel like you could throw up straight on this table.
Kugisaki grimaces, “I told your brother to be here today to talk about prom,” she says, poking her juice open with a straw. “He’s late.”
“He’s not late,” yuuji says, pointing a finger at a table just a few down. “He’s over there, with Uraume.”
The minute every vowel passes Yuuji’s lips, a shiver trails down your spine, filling your entire being with heaviness and hatred. You don’t dare look over your shoulder, instead you grab a grape from Fushiguro’s lunch to munch on. He nudges the small container closer, and you take another green grape from him.
“Besides,” Yuuji continues, taking a bite of his lunch, “I’m 98% sure Sukuna’s going with her. Something about her friend group and car pooling, I figured we could catch a ride with someone else.”
Your heart stops completely.
The man you’d assumed you were going with, the man you’d been in love with for years, is taking someone else, the day before prom.
“He WHAT!” Kugisaki snaps, and next to you, Fushiguro laces his pinky finger with yours, squeezing softly to keep you grounded. “Oh! The fucking nerve! I knew he was a piece of shit, but THIS?! Oh, Itadori, why couldn’t you have your license!”
“Hey! Why don’t you!”
“Kugisaki,” Fushiguro says softly. “Him being a scumbag is nothing new. But,” you feel blue eyes focus on the side of your head. “Let’s be a little more gentle about this, okay?”
From behind you, there’s a set of laughter that eases its way over the cafeteria, and you wish it was literally anyone else’s, anyone’s other than Uraume’s, and you hate how light and airy it sounds.
How pretty.
“I know for a fact Sukuna’s not that funny,” Kugisaki grumbles, but all you do is pick at your food and silently pretend to agree with your friend.
Sukuna is funny. Sukuna is so funny it hurts, it brings tears to your eyes and your sides and stomach to hurt, and even though you share him everyday, it hurts now to share him with her.
“Man, she’s laughing real hard,” Yuuji says, taking a sip of his water, his head turned to watch his brother interact with his friend. “Wonder what he said.”
“Yuuji,” Megumi warns.
Yuuji chuckles to himself, “it’s almost like they’re feeding off of each other, it’s kinda sweet.”
“Yuuji.”
“-and I mean, Sukuna’s usually not so open and friendly, let alone cracking jokes. It’s cute-“
“ITADORI!”
Megumi snaps hard enough at his friend to make him shut up, and when yuuji finally turns back to face you, your bottom lip wobbles and you play more with your food. Tears pour down your face, as Kugisaki reaches over to rest a hand on yours, sympathy in her gaze. “Yeah,” you sniffle. “It’s cute.” The hand not being cradled by Kugisaki comes up to wipe your tears, and before you know it, your legs stand up and carry you straight to the bathroom, locking yourself in a stall where you’re able to finally let it go. You cradle yourself in comfort, eyes screwed shut as you sob every fiber of your soul out.
Kugisaki calls your name once, twice, then she sighs, “come on. Let’s talk this out, okay?”
“I’m not going to prom,” you confess. “Not if he’s going with her.”
“You don’t know if he is, though,” she argues, leaning against your stall door. “And if he is, and he fumbles the best thing that ever happened to him, he doesn’t deserve your tears.”
There’s another person that enters the bathroom, and you hear Kugisaki scoff. “You’re like, a thousand percent not supposed to be in here.”
“Bite me,” the voice snaps, and it doesn’t take long to decode it as Sukuna’s. Your hand claps over your mouth to silence your tears, not wanting him to hear you. “I thought she was crying, I wanted to check on her.”
“She’s fine. Shoo.”
“Kugisaki-“
“Don’t talk to me like we’re friends,” she snaps, and you close your swollen eyes as she defends your honor. “Because we’re not. Don’t act like you care at all about me or her, or her peace or her business. So fucking beat it, before I snitch you out to the principal, then no one’s fucking happy.”
You hear sukuna exhale in annoyance, “just… text me, okay?” He says, and you know he’s talking to you.
“She’ll think about it,” Kugisaki growls. Once the big footprints are out of earshot, you slowly ease your way out of the stall and straight into Kugisaki’s arms, “I know honey, I know,” she soothes, hugging you tight. “You deserve so much better, babydoll. Fuck him.”
“He led me on for months,” you wail. “And he tossed me to the side like a fucking piece of trash. For her.”
“And that’s why you should go to prom,” she argues, pulling back to look at you, eyes soft in understanding. “You don’t need him to have fun- you’ve got friends who are dying to go with you. And you want to make him real jealous?” She asks, and you quirk your brow in intrigue.
She smirks, “go with Fushiguro.”
You sniffle and shake your head, “I cant do that to Fushiguro. Im not going to use him as a pawn to make Sukuna want me again. It’s not fair.”
Kugisaki nods and clicks her tongue, “why don’t you get a note from the nurse and go home for the day?” She encourages, and you ponder the idea in your head.
Maybe it wouldn’t be such a terrible idea… to go home and process the day, figure out what to do about prom, maybe even return the dress for your money back. You sigh shakily and nod your head before the bathroom door bursts open again, emerging a yuuji whose hands are clasped over his eyes. “Just wanted to bring you your backpack!”
You snort and wipe your nose, “thank you, Yuuji.”
“You’re welcome!” He shifts his fingers to peek at you, lifting the middle one to make eye contact, “so… sorry we didn’t get to talk about prom.”
“It’s okay,” you sigh, ushering them both out of the bathroom. “I’m… I’m probably not going anyways.”
“WHAT!” He whines, his hands coming down to his sides in a saddened pout. “But! It’s senior prom! We have to go!”
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I haven’t felt up for it since we made the plan to go. Maybe I’m just not supposed to.” When Fushiguro appears from the men’s bathroom and approaches the group, you flash him a sweet smile, “but I want you guys to still go!”
“Well if you’re not going, I’m not going!” Yuuji proclaims.
Fushiguro shakes his head, “if this is about prom, I won’t go either. We can chill at our houses instead-“
“EVERYONE IS GOING TO PROM!” Kugisaki barks, causing more than a few heads to turn in the hall. Then, she sighs, “we’re all old now. This is it. Our last chance of good memories from this shit fuck of a school. Everyone is going. Period.”
“But-“
“We’ll talk it out later,” you say quickly, noticing the duo of Sukuna and Uraume heading to the vending machines together. “I’m going home. Someone take notes for me.”
“Will do,” Fushiguro calls out for you. You feel three pairs of eyes boring into the back of your skull, but you couldn’t care less.
Not when you’re left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart.
Getting out of school was easy enough. Working up an excuse that you’re dizzy and need to be rushed home. It’s getting home that sucked.
Before, Sukuna was your ride home when you were sick, cutting classes to get you back to your home so you could take care of yourself and get plenty of rest. Now, you stand at a public bus stop, earbuds in your ears, and you wait. You’ve done this route plenty of times by now, courtesy of Sukuna’s front seat being taken by her.
The ride is quiet enough, your head resting against the cool glass of the window as your phone buzzes violently.
sukuna 💪🏻 Where the fuck did you go?
No seriously wtf
This shit with Fushiguro taking notes for you? The fucks up with that?
Why’d you even leave?
You think you can ignore me?
This isn’t over. Once this bell rings?
I’m hunting you down.
You ignore his threats and let the bus carry you home, your exhausted legs finishing the trip up and into the familiar confines of your house. You’ve got at least two hours before sukuna makes good on his word, and you decide to take that time to take care of yourself- something your heart has been too tired to do since Uraume came into your life uninvited.
After a hot shower, some skin care and topped with some pretty perfume, you make your way to the living room, stopping briefly for a snack from the kitchen.
You put on a movie, but your phone won’t stop buzzing. It’s Sukuna, it’s always going to be Sukuna, and you merely turn it on Do Not Disturb.
If ignoring his texts wouldn’t get him pissed, that certainly would.
But you don’t care. Not anymore.
There’s a ferocious knocking on the door that snaps you out of your zone, and it doesn’t take you long to render the intense energy as Sukuna’s. You pause your movie and shrug your blanket off, making your way to the front door.
Your hands tingle and your heart pounds at the idea of confrontation, but you figure you have nothing to lose as you open the door, revealing an annoyed Sukuna, foot tapping impatiently.
“You think you can hide from me?” he snaps, and you roll your eyes and try to close the door. Sukuna merely jams his foot in the frame to stop you. “Stop fucking around with me, and talk to me. And what’s this bullshit of Yuuji telling me you’re not going to prom?”
“I have nothing to say to you,” you say blankly, but all that does is aggravate him more, and he uses a big hand to force the door open more. The act would be attractive to you, had your heart not been torn into pieces by him. “Don’t break my door.”
“Don’t ignore my goddamned texts!” He barks. You scoff and step back inside your house, where he swiftly follows you. “You’re acting like a fucking child.”
“IM ACTING LIKE A CHILD?” You screech, loud enough where even Sukuna’s eyes widen. “Me? After this entire week where you’ve picked your new best friend to cling to, IM THE CHILD?”
“Yes!” He snaps. “What, I can’t have other friends?”
“You seemed pretty content with the one,” you chuckle. “Certainly didn’t need me to keep you entertained.”
“It’s not my fault that Uraume’s been hanging out with me more,” he says, crossing his big arms. “You just can’t handle sharing me once in a while? Are you that insecure?”
This, has you wincing back, his words making you nauseous and tears bite at your waterline, stinging painfully as you finally blink a line down. He takes a deep inhale and cards a massive hand through his hair, “I didn’t mean that-“
“Fuck. You.”
“Look-“
“No, you look, Sukuna,” you growl, hands coming up to shove him hard. “You don’t get to gaslight me into thinking I’m being dramatic, after you’ve completely thrown me to the side and neglected me for the week. You don’t get to make me feel like the bad guy after you led me on for months on end, only to chase after another girl. You don’t get to break my heart, and demand me to piece it back together, only to try and guilt me for protecting my peace! FUCK! YOU!”
“Led you on for what?” He asks, confusion replacing annoyance, but aggregation still in his tone. “The fuck are you spewing?” You reach up to shove him again; this time, he grips your shoulders to make you steady, “are you out of your fucking mind? There is no other girl!”
“Oh, yeah,” you scoff, your voice tight with tears. “You just hold every broad’s hand in front of me. You just rest your hand onto every girl’s thigh, clearly. My bad, Sukuna.”
“I never held her hand, I moved her hand from my thigh, you weren’t fucking paying attention!”
“Yeah? What about not walking me to class anymore? Not carrying my books for me? Not sitting next to me anymore, instead going to be with her?”
His brows furrow, and there’s nothing you’d like more than to smack the expression clean off of his face. “Doll, Uraume is a friend. That’s it!”
“Yeah? Then what does that make us?”
“Everything!” He yells, the plates rattling and doors creaking from the force. The tears in your eyes still as you stare up at him, whimpering and shaking in his grip.
“What…?”
He sighs in exhaustion, “are you so dense you don’t notice just how obsessed with you I am? The minute someone else comes into my life, you’re blind to that?”
“Sukuna-“
“I’ve fought Fushiguro over you,” he continues. “I’ve argued with teachers for being late to walk you to your class. I’ve gotten pulled over speeding to your house to be with you. I’ve fucking been here, wanting you, but I was waiting for you to be ready.”
“Well, you’ve sure had a hell of a time proving it,” you snip, and he grits his teeth to ground himself. “Talking to another girl, taking her to prom-“
“I’m not taking her to prom, I’m taking you!”
“Then why have you been ignoring me!”
Your words are silenced as he grabs you by the chin and pulls you in for a kiss, the broken bits of your soul and heart snapping back together. Your brain stops and your stomach swirls, but your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, keeping him close. He tastes like orange soda and feels comforting like a freshly washed blanket, his band tee getting fisted in your hand as your other one plays with the hair of his buzz cut. He shivers, his arms hug around your waist, panting into your mouth before hesitantly pulling back.
He leans down to your ear, “listen carefully. I’m not taking Uraume. I’m taking you. Uraume is a friend. That’s it. Once I tell her we’re together, she’ll back off, and we’re going to be fine. I’ve been ‘ignoring you’ because I figured you wanted space, but I couldn’t deal with it anymore. Got it?” You sniffle and burrow your face in his chest, letting his big arms wrap around you and keep you safe. He presses another kiss to the crown of your head, and you feel your mind go fuzzy at the moment he cradles you close.
“Missed my annoying brat of a crush. Driving to school was so fucking boring,” he says, and you scoff against him and wipe your nose on his shirt. “Ugh. Ew.”
“You’re supposed to find me pretty no matter what,” you sniffle. “Even if I use you as a tissue.”
“Maybe, just don’t use me as a tissue?” He snickers, and when you loosen and laugh yourself, he gently pulls back to look at you.
“C’mon. Show me your dress. Need to know what color tie I’m getting.”
“You want to match with me?” You whimper.
He smirks, “Kugisaki already hates me. You think she’s going to let us not matching slide?”
“You’re so right.”
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tinkerbelle05 · 1 year ago
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Clingy Zoro x reader. You should make the story on Zorro and y/n are laying in bed after a wild night 😏. And y/n has to get up and go make breakfast but Zoro doesn't want to let her leave the bed.
Clingy Bastard
Characters: Zoro x fem!reader
Genre: Fluff
Summary: (Requested) Thanks luv 💚
Warnings: alluded to past and present sexual experiences also this is my first time writing for Zoro so please excuse any ooc.
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You woke up slowly, the morning sun shining light in the otherwise dark room. Blinking away the sleepiness, you saw the bright red numbers of the clock reading 11:30.
You briefly recalled that it was Saturday so no work for you to do but you still didn't want to rot in bed all day. Slowly you rose from the bed just to be pushed down back to the bed by Zoro’s arm.
He intertwined his legs with yours, trapping you in them and pulled your body closer to his, your back on his chest and his arm around your body. Holding you like you were his human teddy bear or something.
“No moving,” he mumbled tiredly into your neck. His voice was deep and croaky from sleep.
The audacity of this man.
He���s always doing this! Wanting to cuddle and snuggle until both of your bodies are sore due to the immobility and you didn’t know where your legs began and his arm ended so trying to untangle yourselves just made your already aching body hurt more. You two ended up pretzeled together for what seemed like hours (and it probably was) was not how you wanted to spend your Saturday morning.
Don’t get you wrong, you loved cuddling with Zoro. You loved when he held you against his chest, feeling his heartbeat through your back and the soft rising of his chest. It made you feel safe and warm and loved. Protected in a way that was unfamiliar to you for so long.
But you were….sticky. Yea, sticky and sweaty were the best words to describe the state that you were from what happened last night. They were the best words to describe Zoro too. But before showering, you desperately needed some food. And maybe coffee. And to y’know, get out of the bed too.
“Zoro, let go,” you said in your best “I’m not playing around” voice though it failed miserably judging by the way he snorted at you.
He hugged you closer to his body and you felt him slowly relaxing, his body melting into yours becoming one. He wrapped around you, coo-conning you into his body.
“No, let’s just stay here a bit longer. Why mess up a good thing?” He asked, his voice muffled a bit.
You sighed and thought about the best way to deal with the situation. Usually, after some begging and bribing Zoro would let do what you needed to do. But that’s when you need to do work so he would be less willing to comply when there was no work for you to do. And you didn’t wanna beg to just lay in the house all day anyway. And really, you weren’t that sticky.
No, no, no you definitely were.
So you had only one option. Something where you two would both get what you wanted.
“Wanna shower with me?” You offered to him. You saw his eyes slowly opening, cutting you a look with a sly grin.
He chuckled and kissed your neck, “Oh really? And what have I done to deserve such an honor?”
“Being a clingy, stubborn bastard,” you answered dryly and frowned at him but you couldn’t help the smile that was starting to form on your face when he started to laugh at your comment.
He dragged you onto his lap, his fingers digging into your waist, “Oh, I'm being clingy? Stubborn? You act as if you don't like it. Stop pretending.”
You rolled your eyes at him but was still smiling because despite how absolutely annoying it was, he was right. You did like it.
You’ll never admit it verbally though.
“That a yes or no, Roronoa?” You asked again.
Zoro gave you a toothy smile and carried you to the bathroom, slamming the door shut.
Something tells you that you wouldn't do much cleaning though.
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scealaiscoite · 1 month ago
Text
‧₊˚ 🎧 ✩ a hundred dialogue prompts
(but it’s one lyric each from my wrapped playlist)
¹⁾ “you say you want me, but you know i’m not what you need.”
²⁾ “all i ever needed is here, in my arms.”
³⁾ “call the police, there’s a madman around!”
⁴⁾ “i miss the man i was the moment we left off.”
⁵⁾ “you’d be surprised the places i find jesus.”
⁶⁾ “just trust me; you’ll be fine.”
⁷⁾ “i hope he never lets me down again.”
⁸⁾ “tonight you’ll have the answer.”
⁹⁾ “not what you want- i’m what you need.”
¹⁰⁾ “didn’t call when i got your number but i liked you a lot.”
¹¹⁾ “i take my whiskey neat.”
¹²⁾ “and i’m not here to be the saviour you long for.”
¹³⁾ “are you ready to swear, right here, right now?”
¹⁴⁾ “baby, take my hand!”
¹⁵⁾ “this could all be yours.”
¹⁶⁾ “i’m granting you more than the debt that i owe.”
¹⁷⁾ “am i worth saving?”
¹⁸⁾ “it’s made you colder.”
¹⁹⁾ “can you figure me out?”
²⁰⁾ “come on- take a ride with me.”
²¹⁾ “it’s too late for me now.”
²²⁾ “mama always said i was born on the wild side.”
²³⁾ “i’d sell my soul for you, babe.”
²⁴⁾ “i’ll do whatever it takes. i’ll go to my grave protecting me and mine.”
²⁵⁾ “i’m proud of all my scars.”
²⁶⁾ “i’m not the girl i set out to be.”
²⁷⁾ “lipstick, chemtrails, red flags, pink nails- “
²⁸⁾ “i’ll be gone by the morning light.”
²⁹⁾ “summer is slipping through my fingers.”
³⁰⁾ “man, i hate this part of texas.”
³¹⁾ “if you want a cowboy on a white horse… hold on tight, because i’m not there yet.”
³²⁾ “no rest for the wicked.”
³³⁾ “things we buried low are coming to the surface now, my love.”
³⁴⁾ “they say i’m trouble and i don’t give a damn.”
³⁶⁾ “i got a taste for men who’re older.”
³⁷⁾ “it’s my feeling we’ll win in the end.”
³⁸⁾ “i need you to see me for what i have become.”
³⁹⁾ “baby bunny, come clean.”
⁴⁰⁾ “can you taste it?”
⁴¹⁾ “i grew up with a gun in my hand.”
⁴²⁾ “call me when you get the chance.”
⁴³⁾ “they said this day wouldn’t come.”
⁴⁴⁾ “this is an omen. a warning.”
⁴⁵⁾ “that’s how you know that i’m coming for you.”
⁴⁶⁾ “anything to get me to sleep.”
⁴⁷⁾ “five in the morning ain’t no time to say goodbye.”
⁴⁸⁾ “you can’t be my saviour- i can’t be your sinner.”
⁴⁹⁾ “he’s sitting in the corner with a six pack of corona.”
⁵⁰⁾ “take everything.”
⁵¹⁾ “we can be like they are.”
⁵²⁾ “what do you want from me?”
⁵³⁾ “this summer i might’ve drowned.”
⁵⁴⁾ “we were tangled up like branches in a flood.”
⁵⁵⁾ “i ain’t proud of all the punches that i’ve thrown.”
⁵⁶⁾ “pick yourself up, get back on again.”
⁵⁷⁾ “i need some room to breathe.”
⁵⁸⁾ “did you not say we were made for each other?”
⁵⁹⁾ “well, i grew up in the fallout from the riots in the nineties.”
⁶⁰⁾ “i’m missing you still.”
⁶¹⁾ “i can never take back the pain i’ve caused.”
⁶²⁾ “now i’ve said too much.”
⁶³⁾ “won’t you do this for me, son, if you can?”
⁶⁴⁾ “the damage is already done.”
⁶⁵⁾ “i’m scared of nothing and i’m scared to death.”
⁶⁶⁾ “you can hold me like he held her.”
⁶⁷⁾ “it wakes me in the middle of the night.”
⁶⁸⁾ “wash away the blood on my hands.”
⁶⁹⁾ “the dreams in which i’m dying are the best i’ve ever had.”
⁷⁰⁾ “i won’t back down.”
⁷¹⁾ “leave me alone in the dark.”
⁷²⁾ “i’ve been waiting for her, oh, so long.”
⁷³⁾ “help me to decide.”
⁷⁴⁾ “the money’s all gone.”
⁷⁵⁾ “hell, i ain’t the devil.”
⁷⁶⁾ “would we grow old together?”
⁷⁷⁾ “i’m a few years older than you.”
⁷⁸⁾ “so don’t say you love me- ‘cause you’ll never love me.”
⁷⁹⁾ “i’ve seen it all a million times.”
⁸⁰⁾ “you can always reach me.”
⁸¹⁾ “i don’t know who you think i am.”
⁸²⁾ “my darling believe me, i was born to be with you.”
⁸³⁾ “between the pain, and the way you look- “
⁸⁴⁾ “you can say that we are nothing, but you know the truth.”
⁸⁵⁾ “oh, i’m gonna lose control.”
⁸⁶⁾ “how d’you live like this?!”
⁸⁷⁾ “do you like that?”
⁸⁸⁾ “would you push me away again?”
⁸⁹⁾ “she’s a bad girlfriend.”
⁹⁰⁾ “today’s music ain’t got the same soul.”
⁹¹⁾ “i’m afraid they’re gonna find you.”
⁹²⁾ “i was far too scared to hit him, but i would hit him in a heartbeat now.”
⁹³⁾ “what am i to do?”
⁹⁴⁾ “come see what i mean.”
⁹⁵⁾ “i’ll never let you go.”
⁹⁶⁾ “getting drunk’s fine, it’s the getting by that’ll get a soul down.”
⁹⁷⁾ “come out from all your hidin’ out.”
⁹⁸⁾ “i ain’t perfect but i’m learning how to be the best i can.”
⁹⁹⁾ “i don’t ever wanna feel like i did that day.”
¹⁰⁰⁾ “and it was my mistake, ‘cause she never said a thing about jesus.”
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therealcocoshady · 1 month ago
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HI
HEAR ME OUT
Christmas party at 50 Cent’s place. You’re in your cute lil Christmas skirt. You’re kinda friends with Marsh ‘cause y’all are both in the music industry and actually go to the same studio 🙊
AND THEN THEY GET TOGETHER
and it’s HOT
But also kind of cute and you’re an amazing writer so no pressure of course
hope you have a GLORIOUS week!!
Christmas spirit
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Author’s Note : Hi 💕 Thank you so much for your request ✨. I had a blast writing it ! I also took the opportunity to mix it with another one I received, which is Eminem x Vintage pop star bombshell reader. I hope you enjoy it 💕.
CW : Christmas spirit - Fluff and flirting - Light smut
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One of the perks of Marshall staying at 50’s place during his stay in LA was that he didn’t have to put up with an impersonal hotel room. It was like home away from home. But one of the drawbacks of staying at his friend’s was that he had to put up with his extravagant ideas. Like turning his estate in a Winter Wonderland, for a Christmas party he had conveniently forgotten to tell him about. And of course, when he found out, he was too late to bounce. He was coming back from the home gym when he found the caterers preparing everything. « Yo, Curtis? What’s that for? » he asked with a raised eyebrow. « This? Oh ! Nothing ! Just hosting a little get together to celebrate the holidays. You know, nothing fancy » his friend said with a smirk.
One look around and he could tell it was a lie. Judging by the elaborate decor and the giant Christmas tree that his assistants were putting up, it was going to be fancy. And if the number of bottles being brought out was any indication, that get together wasn’t going to be small either. « You didn’t tell me » Marshall stated in an accusatory tone, though it betrayed his kindness for the man he considered to be family. « If I’d told you, you would have found an excuse not to attend » his friend simply replied. « Now, I don’t expect you to put on a suit, but a shower would be appreciated, Em » he grinned. Marshall rolled his eyes and walked to his bedroom. He should have known better than to expect his friend to be chill, especially during the holiday season.
When he walked back downstairs, about an hour later, he had done the best he could to clean up. He wasn’t the type to pack a suit unless he was going to a wedding or a funeral, so he did his best, opting for dark wash jeans, sneakers, a black sweater and a jacket. He spotted 50 who, of course, was looking fancy in a tailored suit, talking to some guests wearing their best cocktail attire. He wasn’t exactly one for social gatherings, not a fan of mingling with industry types and awkward small talk. If it had been anyone else’s house, he would have walked out without a second thought. But it was 50 or, as he knew him, Curtis. And if he wanted him there, he would make an effort (though he would make sure to have him repay him the favor). « Marshall! » Curtis boomed, cutting through the chatter. « Glad you made an effort, bro. Trust me, you won’t regret it » he promised. Marshall gave him a side-eye and a smirk. « Wanna bet? » he mumbled.
His friend smirked and glanced at you, who was standing there. You were in the far side of the room, chatting with Dre and a couple of other people. You were smiling but it was clear that you were putting on a brave face. Everyone, everywhere, knew about your recent drama with your ex-boyfriend, some A-list actor. You’d been broken up for a few weeks but he had been quick to announce that he was expecting a « bundle of joy » with his new girl, some TikToker. Back when you had broken up, there had been some rumors about him cheating but, now that the news of the pregnancy was out, it was clear that there had been some… overlap. To say you were feeling absolutely humiliated would be the understatement of the year. But 50 had convinced you to show up to his party nonetheless, using his charm and clever banter, promising good champagne and excellent company. You had met him, Marshall and a bunch of others at Dre’s studio, where you had recorded your last album. Your music had nothing to do with Hip Hop, but you got along with everyone and, contrary to what you would have thought, they didn’t have anything against your « vintage bombshell pop star» persona. They liked to tease you about it, but it was never mean. And you enjoyed teasing them right back.
For your comeback to LA’s party life, and to honor 50’s extravagance, you had opted for a sleek, vintage red dress that accentuated your curves, with some fake white fur lining the hem of the skirt. Very Christmassy. Your hair was spilling over your shoulders and you donned some alluring red lips. Everything to give you the confidence you desperately needed. And thank God for the glass of Chemin Du Roi, you were able to appear like your bubbly, usual self. You were laughing at Dre’s jokes while, on the other side of the room, Marshall and 50 were watching you. « Excellent night to make your move » 50 hummed quietly. Marshall turned to him and raised an eyebrow. « What? » he asked. « I think it’s time for you to get out of your comfort zone, brother. Live a little » he replied with a grin, to which Marshall scowled. « I live plenty ». His friend looked at him and rolled his eyes. « Bro, you’ve been single longer than I’ve been rich » Curtis sighed. « And our friend Y/N could use a distraction tonight, if rumors are to be believed ». Marshall gave him a look. « You didn’t seriously- » he began but his friend cut him off immediately. « Relax. I didn’t set anything up. Just… Go talk to her. She’s cool. And I’ve seen the way you looked at her last time she was in the studio. We all did ». Marshall gave him a side-eye and pursed his lips « Did you now? ». 50 chuckled and nodded. « Yes. And now, there’s no one in the way » he said as he gave him a friendly slap in the back. « Now, go. You’ll thank me later ».
Marshall shook his head but still made his way toward the group. You noticed him before he even got there, you eyes lighting up in recognition. « Marshall! Hey ! » you greeted him with a smile. « I didn’t know you’d be here » you said. Marshall quickly hugged you and smiled. « Yeah, well, you know 50. Didn’t give me much of a choice » he hummed, shoving his hands in his pockets. « Tell me about it » you giggled. « He practically coerced me. Harassed me and threatened to post some of his memes with my face on his Instagram ». He chuckled, genuinely, and relaxed a little. You chatted for a little while, keeping up with each other’s latest work project. You didn’t doubt that he knew about all the cover stories about you, but you appreciated that he had the elegance not to mention it. He kept things light, entertaining you with his classic sarcasm. At some point, you were joined by Curtis, who arbored a victorious smirk. « How is the gorgeous Ms. Claus doing? » he asked you. « You guys look like Christmas card material ». You giggled while Marshall rolled his eyes. « Come on, man » he groaned. « I’m just sayin’… Our girl Y/N is all elegant and you… Well, you’re kinda grinchy. Opposites attract, right? » 50 hummed. « Keep talking and I’ll disappear like the Grinch » Marshall warned, though his tone held more humor than bite. Of course, Curtis being Curtis, he didn’t let it go. Far be it from him. « Just trying help you out. Ain’t nothing wrong with a little Christmas connection. ’Tis the season and all that » he said as he clapped Marshall on the shoulder.
You let out a giggle and crossed your arms. « Did you have me come here so that you could play matchmaker, Curtis? » you asked teasingly. « What can I say? I believe in Christmas miracles » he shrugged with an enigmatic smile. « You already said that when you forced me to come here » you playfully reminded him. «What can I say? These movies got to me » he smirked. « You are relentless. Do you do this with all your guests? Or are we special ? » you asked. « Y’all are special! But look at you, Y/N. You’re smiling, laughing, looking like a Christmas angel. And Em is not hiding in a corner with his notebook. You’re vibing ». Both you and Marshall rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. 50 chuckled and promised he’d be back after making his rounds, like a dutiful host. « Sorry about him » Marshall mumbled. « He’s insufferable, sometimes ». You giggled and took a sip of your drink. « He is. But that’s why we love him. Besides, he’s got a point. You are a little grinchy » you grinned. He smirked, leaning forward slightly. « And you are leaning into the whole holiday angel thing ». Your smile softened and you could feel the heat rise to your cheeks. « You’re sweet » you murmured. « Sweet? » he repeated, raising an eyebrow. « Careful. You’re gonna ruin my reputation ». You stared into his eyes and gave him your signature, seductive smile. « I think you can handle it » you teased. « Besides… Maybe it’d be good for you to… embrace the Christmas spirit ». He leaned just a bit closer and your perfume, something light and sweet, caught his attention. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Marshall’s eyes flicked to your lips, and you noticed, your heart skipping a beat. The fire of the nearby fireplace crackled softly, the world outside of your little bubble forgotten.
« You’re staring » you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. « Am I? » he asked, his voice just as low. You nodded slowly, a teasing grin appearing on your face. The corners of his mouth twitched, and he leaned in, closing the space between you, inch by inch. « Well tell me if I’m wrong » he murmured, his voice rough and hesitant. « But I don’t think you’d mind ». Your breath hitched and your gaze flicked to his lips. But before you could reply and give in to the flirt, you were interrupted, the spell shattering. « Marshall! I didn’t even have time to say hi! » Dre greeted, his booming voice cutting through the moment like a record scratch. Both of you pulled back abruptly and you blinked while Marshall’s jaw tightened. Dre strode over, seemingly oblivious to the tension he’d just cut through. He held a drink in one hand, his phone in the other, and his expression was all focused. « I finished mixing one of the tracks you recorded the other day, man. I have a couple versions. You don’t mind if we talk shop real quick, do you? ». Marshall exhaled through his nose, forcing a neutral expression. « You don’t want to… Enjoy the party ? » he asked carefully, but Dre shook his head. « Man, with all the projects I have going on? It’s crazy. And I know you don’t care for parties either ». You bit your lip, fighting back a laugh. « I will let you gentlemen talk shop. I’ll go and grab another drink » you said as you stood gracefully. As you walked away, your vintage dress swaying gently, Marshall watched you go. « Did I interrupt something? » Dre asked cluelessly, his mind obviously too focused on work. « You work too hard » Marshall sighed. While he followed Dre to another room, his eyes drifted to you, standing near the bar, glass of champagne in hand, your laugh ringing out like a melody.
After what felt like hours, dissecting beats with Dre, his thoughts were buzzing. When he came back, his eyes scanned the crowd, searching for you, but you were nowhere to be seen. He exhaled through his nose, hoping you hadn’t gone home, though he figured you weren’t the type to leave without saying goodbye. He wandered through the house, where people were gathered in several rooms, drinking, smoking cigars, dancing… As he turned a corner, he noticed a door slightly ajar, at the end of a quiet hallway. The library. He stepped closer and pushed the door open, revealing a stunning space with shelved filled with books that looked more decorative than well-read, though a few had clearly seen use. A fireplace crackled softly in the corner, its glow casting long shadows over the rich mahogany furniture. And there you were, sitting on one of the plush couches near the fire. Your legs were tucked under you, your champagne flute resting on a small side table. Your gaze seemed distant and, for a moment, Marshall hesitated. You looked incredibly serene, the skirt of your dress spread elegantly over the couch, the fur trim catching the soft light. You looked like you belonged on some vintage postcard. « There you are » he said quietly. You looked up, almost startled, though your expression softened when you saw him. « Finished making magic with Dre? » you teased. « Something like that » he sad as he showed his hands into his pockets. « Figured you’d be halfway out the door, by now ». You laughed lightly but shook your head. « Just needed a breather and thought I’d hide out here for a bit » you said with a smile. « it’s cozy. Good hiding spot » he commented. « And if I join you? ». You shook your head and gestured for him to sit next to you. He joined you and looked at you for a few seconds. « You okay? » he asked after a moment, his voice softer now. You tilted your head, studying him with a small, amused smile. « Why wouldn’t I be? » you asked. « I dunno. Dre kind of barged in and I thought that maybe you’d… Lost interest » he said as he scratched the back of his neck. You let out a soft chuckle as you shook your head and leaned closer to him. « Did you? ». He smirked, his eyes locking onto yours. « Not a chance ».
For a moment, neither of you moved, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. You broke the silence, your tone teasing but your expression serious. «Should we pick up where we left off, or is Dre going to steal you away again? » you asked in a sultry voice. Marshall chuckled, his defenses crumbling under your gaze. « He’s got nothing on this ». Taking your cue, he leaned in closer, his hand resting on your hip. Your breath hitched as you looked at him, your hands finding your way to his chest. « Thought you didn’t care for Christmas spirit? » you whispered. « Might make an exception » he murmured, leaning in. The moment hung in the air and your lips met. The kiss started slow, tentative, as if you were both testing the waters. But it didn’t take long for the heat to ignite. Your fingers slid to his shoulders, pulling him closer, while his hands tightened around your waist, drawing you against him. The rest of the world disappeared. The distant hum of the party, the clinking of glasses fading into nothing. All that mattered was the way your lips moved against each other, soft and warm and full of something electric.
The flickering firelight in the library was casting a soft glow over the both of you, lighting up your flushed cheeks as you leaned into Marshall’s touch, your fingers brushing the curve of his jaw, gently stroking his beard. What started as an urgent kiss turned into a slow making out session, more about discovery, savoring the connection. His lips were soft against yours, as was his touch, his fingers gently digging into your hips. He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, and he took a deep breath. « Do you… Want to get out of here? » he asked, his voice low and rough. You tilted your head, your eyes sparkling with interest, a soft smile lighting up your face. « And go where? » you asked. He seemed to hesitate, gazing at your face for a couple of seconds, his own eyes full of anticipation. « I have a room here. Upstairs » he said finally. « If you’re good with that ».
Your lips quirked into a playful smile. You liked that he was being a gentleman about it, leaving the choice up to you. And going upstairs seemed like a fine choice indeed. « Lead the way » you hummed softly as you offered him your hand. You were barefoot, your heels forgotten by the couch as the two of you quietly slipped out of the library and into the hallway that was bathed in shadows as the sounds of the party drifted faintly in the distance. Marshall guided you upstairs, one of his hands holding yours, the other resting on the small of your back as you moved. A simple, yet incredibly intimate gesture. You entered his room, a spacious but understated guest suite, which Curtis had decked out for modern touches and elegant furniture, a king-sized bed that sat in the center and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the LA skyline. As you glanced around, you noticed that it was more minimalistic than the rest of the house. Somehow, it felt more Marshall than 50. You spotted some of his belongings in various corners : notebooks and pens on the desk, a vintage, portable CD player with some Beats headphones and a comfy hoodie on the back of a chair. « That’s nice » you hummed with a soft smile.
The both of you stood there for a moment, the silence stretching, but not in an uncomfortable way. Marshall stepped closer to you, his hands finding your waist again as he looked into your eyes. « You sure about this? » he asked, and you could see a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. You nodded, your fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of his tee-shirt. « I’m sure » you whispered in a seductive voice. What followed wasn’t rushed or hurried. It was a slow, deliberate exploration of each other. He pulled you closer and kissed you, letting his hands explore your body over your dress in a gentle pace, as if he were asking permission. You playfully ran a finger over his chest, playing with the hem of his tee-shirt, before letting your finger touch his skin. He seemed to get the message and got rid of his jacket and tee, and you enjoyed the sight of his muscular body. So much so that you couldn’t refrain from smiling. For a split second, he arbored a visible smirk, before capturing your lips again. You ran your hands over his torso, his back, feeling every inch of skin, every muscle… You weren’t sure if it was the recent singleness, the champagne or simply his captivating presence, but it felt like you couldn’t get enough. You were used to his usual, guarded demeanor but now, it was giving way to something that was both raw and tender, which you met with equal intensity.
He slowly ran a hand in the back of your dress as he stared into your eyes, and slowly started unzipping it, his face inches away from yours. When he was done, the dress fell to your feet, revealing a stunning corset and lace panties. Marshall stared at you with wide eyes, his mouth slightly agape, taking in the sight in front of him. Evidently, you were dressed to the nines, down to the lingerie, and you definitely lived up to the vintage bombshell persona. « You’re gorgeous » he murmured, a hint of reverence in his voice. You didn’t say a word, simply gave him a soft, seductive smile, the look on your face full of unspoken promises. He took your hand and led you to the bed. You sat on the edge, gesturing for him to come closer, and started undoing his belt but he grabbed your wrist and stopped your movement, shaking his head. Instead, he kissed the inside of your wrist and gently pushed you so that you’d lie down. You were beneath him, your skin glowing in the warm light of the bedside lamp. Your eyes held his, soft and vulnerable, waiting for his next move. He captured your lips once again and cupped your cheek. The move, however simple and innocent, had you still under his touch. Your lips parted slightly as he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your neck, going further down with each kiss. Each kiss was slow, deliberate, as though he was memorizing the feel of you, the taste of you, the way you trembled beneath him.
« Marshall » you whispered, your voice suddenly unsteady. As much as you enjoyed it, as you craved for more, you were taken aback by the way he took his time, unhurried. You were used to men being charmed by you, by your persona as a glamorous diva, but it seemed like none of them had taken the time to show such reverence. He looked at you, smiling, before brushing your jawline with his lips. « Let me » he murmured. He started moving lower, his hands sliding down your sides as his lips trailed down, caressing you as if you were a sacred work of art. His touch was slow, reverent, as though he was savoring every moment, every inch of you. He reached your panties, pressing a kiss over the fine lace fabric. You gasped softly, your body arching into him, and he smiled against you. « May I? » he whispered. You heard yourself whine, almost pleading. Next thing you knew, he was making your panties slide off your legs and your hands were sliding into his hair as he continued to worship you with his mouth. The room was filled with your sounds, small whimpers and gasps that only grew louder as he seemed to take them as encouragements. When he finally lifted his head to look at you again, his blue eyes were dark with emotion, his expression raw and unguarded. « I want you » he said, his voice rough but steady. You nodded eagerly, your eyes full of desire.
He quickly got rid of his clothes and, as soon as he was within your reach, you pulled him to you, as if you wanted to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere. Your mouth found its way to his and, eventually, you found yourselves under the covers, your bodies intertwined. Every touch, every kiss he gave you was deliberate, meant to draw you deeper into the moment. He could feel the way your body responded to him, your breaths quickening, hands gripping him like you didn’t want to let go. He whispered your name against your skin, his voice low and filled with desire. As the intensity built, Marshall surrendered completely under your touch, your voice, your presence. His fingers were digging Ito your skin, the movements of his hips becoming more frantic, and he could’t help the moan that escaped his lips as your nails dug in his back. When you finally reached your peak together, it was nearly overwhelming, your bodies trembling as you clung to each other. Marshall collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as you both caught your breath, skin damp and hearts racing in unison. He looked at you, who were absolutely glowing, despite your hair being all messy and your impeccable red lip being long gone. He’d seen you around Dre’s studio, in somewhat casual attire, but he had never seen you so natural, so raw… And you were even more stunning, ethereal. As he gazed at you, he couldn’t help but feel privileged. Seeing the diva so close, it was like admiring a work of art. Except you weren’t a diva. It was one of the rare times someone saw you as something else. Something real. Raw. Beautiful. Marshall brushed a thumb lightly along your cheekbone, his movements slow and reverent, as though he were committing every detail to memory. « You look different, » he murmured, his voice low and rough from exhaustion but carrying an undeniable tenderness.
Your lips curved into a small smile, your eyes still closed. « Different, huh? Is that a good thing? » you asked in a light laugh. « Better than good, » he said honestly. « You don’t need all that extra stuff. You’re... just- ». He stopped himself, unsure how to articulate what he was feeling. You opened your eyes then, your gaze soft as you studied him. « You don’t have to say anything, » you said gently, your voice carrying the same quiet intimacy as the moment you were sharing. « I think I know what you mean. »
He nodded, relieved you understood. He wasn’t the type to wax poetic, but something about you like this—so unguarded, so real—made his chest tighten in a way that was both unfamiliar and undeniable. You shifted slightly, your fingers lightly tracing patterns on his chest. « It’s kind of nice, » you admitted after a while. « Not having to... perform, you know? Just being here. ». He stared at you and nodded. « Yeah, » Marshall said, his hand moving to rest against the small of your back. « I get that. »
You lay there in comfortable silence, breaths syncing as the moments stretched on. Every now and then, your laugh would break the quiet as Marshall teased you about your fur-lined dress or you ribbed him about his notebook collection. But between the laughter and easy conversation, there was something else—something unspoken but palpable.
Marshall’s fingers idly brushed the curve of your hip under the sheets, and you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. Your expression softened, a mix of vulnerability and quiet wonder. None of you addressed it—not directly—but it was there in the way he held you, in the way you lingered against him as though reluctant to let the night end. « You’re full of surprises, you know that? » he said quietly, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.You couldn’t help but smirk, your fingers playing with the chain thin chain he wore around his neck. « Well, they do call me Ms Claus, after all » you teased. He chortled and rested his forehead against yours, while your hand settled over his heart. « I think I’m starting to like Christmas spirit » he murmured.
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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 9 months ago
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[Rambling Something in Few Sentences - Fluff version]
TF141*Reader. Different Seasons with different members, Same love and FLUFF 🫡💖pls come here if you want angst version :D
Gaz - Spring
“Hey Kyle, this shop got cherry blossom theme donuts!” He gets pulled to the bakery and comes out with 10 donuts in the paper bag.
“They have a Spring discount for chocolates, let’s buy some!” another 5 bags of white chocolates are added to the bag.
“New marshmallows for picnic? we can eat this on our picnic next week!”He watches you grab 3 different flavors and head to the counter.
“Didn’t you just tell me you’re on a diet yesterday?”
“What did you just say, Garrick?”
“Nothing, honey.”
Ghost - Summer
“the weather just makes the air humid and stinky”
“Two windmills are standing on a wind farm, One asks, “What’s your favorite type of music?””
“mmhmm”
“The other says, “I’m a big metal fan.” “
“Thank you baby, the room’s fucking dry now.”
“Good.” He doesn’t move his eyes from the pages, just pats your head that’s resting on his chest and keeps reading.
Soap - Autumn
“Finally finish cleaning these shite.” Johnny wipes off the sweat on his forehead and proudly looks at the leaves you two just swept into a huge pile.
“...”
“Bonnie?”
He jumps when he sees you staring at the pile of leaves, and suddenly start dashing and jumping into it with face down.
“damn Johnny this is fun!” Your muffled voice coming when you wiggle your limbs like a starfish makes him burst into laughter.
Fuck it, it won’t kill him to do this whole thing again. He thinks as he runs and slumps into the leaves beside you and drags you into his embrace, enjoying your warm body pressed against him and the pleasant giggles from you.
Price - Winter
“Best ways to warm yourself, number 1: shoving your sock feet into your husband’s sweater.” He chuckles when you tuck your feet under his sweater and rest them on his tummy.
“Best ways to warm yourself, number 2: rob your husband’s blanket.” He scoots closer to you on the couch when you wrap his blanket tightly around you two.
“Best ways to warm yourself, number 3: hug your husband like you’re a koala and steal his warmth.” You sitting on his lap and clinging to him like he’s a trunk makes his heart melt at your cuteness.
“Best ways to warm yourself, number 4” He scoops you up and carries you back to the bedroom “Have a pretty partner and show your love to them on your bed.”
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sungbeam · 10 months ago
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nonidol!jeong yunho x f!reader
yunho might have been the superstar out of the two of you, but you have always been the center of his universe. (you — it's always been you.)
▷ genre, warnings. bffs2l, childhood friends 2 lovers, pining, popstar/singer au, swearing, fluff, humor, angst, hurt/comfort, kissing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of anxiety/nervousness, they physically cannot be apart for too long sorry they've got Attachment Issues low-key..., one kiss (is all it takes—)
▷ word count. 16.3k (guys,, this was supposed to be only like 6-8k i swear 😭)
▷ associated tunes. keep smiling (demxntia), gone too long (lullaboy), tear in my heart (twenty-one pilots)
a/n: hope u guys like this :'))) i had one of the scenes from here stuck in my brain for awhile and so i had to build the rest of the fic around it, and it turned into this monster, so uhm yes... also much love to @jaehunnyy tysm for reading thru it for me 💖
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THE DAY YUNHO'S ALBUM hit the Billboard Hot 100, you knew that you were going to need a lot more hands on deck than just you, your roommate, and Jeong Yunho himself.
“There's not enough albums, not enough time in the day, not enough of you!” You exclaimed with your fingers shoved into your hair as you took in the landscape of chaos before you on your living room floor. “Yunho, why couldn't you be ambidextrous?”
His eyes widened, body frozen where he was shoving a slice of beef jerky into his mouth. “Mwe? Pwhy are pyu yellinh ap mwe por?”
“I'm not yelling at you; I'm just wondering why you weren't born with eight arms instead of just two.” There were simply too many albums for him to sign before his agent came to pick them up in two hours, and there were also too few albums for the amount of demand. You always knew your best friend would make it big one day, but you also thought he would have had a whole team by that time.
Technically, you were his team—you, your roommate Trinity, and Mingi who was at his grandmother's for the long weekend. Mingi was five texts away from driving back down to help you guys four hours ago though. But his family needed him right now, and Yunho was firm in ensuring Mingi didn't have to come down and help. We got this, he'd said. It'll be easy, he also said.
Sure. Easy.
“We can't just forge his signature?” Trinity joked in a sleep-deprived daze as she leaned back against the couch cushions. Her mouth opened wide in a yawn. “I'm kidding. Let's not ruin his career.”
Yunho swallowed his bite. “That would be nice.” He cleaned his fingers on the Wet Wipe he had handy by his thigh, then picked up his black Sharpie, spinning the writing utensil between his fingers. “Now where were we? Album number fifty-six—?”
This had taken place just four months after Yunho released his second album, Aurora. It had been nearly a year and a half since Yunho debuted himself onto the music scene, and it was about time people finally began to recognize your best friend for all that he was—multi-talented, charismatic, handsome (on some occasions; you wouldn’t let him catch you slipping up there, though).
Within the next year and a half, Yunho skyrocketed into further altitudes of fame.
There were plenty of changes that occurred, many evolutions to Yunho's team and additions to his discography, but you were always a part of it. Even with your own career dealings, you would drop anything to be there for him, and him for you. Between the morning show interviews and late night recording sessions, there were also the research presentations and study session pick-me-ups.
“Are you sure you don't wanna come with?” You asked from where you were stationed in front of the bathroom mirror, putting on the final touches for your look this evening.
You could hear Trinity's fingers clacking away at her keyboard at the speed of light through her open bedroom door. “I'd love to, but I unfortunately did screw myself over by procrastinating on this paper. Have fun though, and tell Yunho congrats for me.”
Tonight was the album release party for Yunho's third full studio album entitled Youth. It was something he had been working on for years now, only recently having become satisfied with the tracks he chose and produced for it. Due to his sudden rise in fame, the release party was said to be hosting a myriad of big name celebrities and figures in the music industry. And of course, you. You were no one special, in hindsight, but Yunho couldn't begin to imagine celebrating a milestone without you by his side.
By eight o'clock, you were ready to head out.
You bid Trinity goodbye as you hustled out the front door of your apartment and down to the street below. Yunho and Mingi and everyone else would already be at the party; you would arrive on your own via Uber. You wished you could've been with him to get ready like all the other times, but your schedule had been unfortunate as of late. You were lucky enough to have gotten off of work this early.
As you sat in the backseat of your ride, you anxiously fidgeted with your phone in your lap.
(You were, without a doubt, excited to arrive at the party. Due to yours and Yunho's ever-busy and ever-conflicting schedules nowadays—yours because of work and PhD candidacy stuff, Yunho's because of rehearsals for his upcoming world tour—it had been awhile since you were able to hang out in person. You missed your gentle giant of a best friend.)
A loud vibration from it made your heart leap into your throat, and your face lit up in the dark with the incoming notification.
rockstar 🤟: pls tell me you've left the house
You snorted and typed out a swift reply. If I told you I was still in my pajamas…
rockstar 🤟: then i would call u a liar cuz u don't go to work in pjs, weirdo rockstar 🤟: just getting antsy tbh rockstar 🤟: need my star here w me :’)))
You couldn't help the touched pout that came to your face. I'm almost there, don't worry. And who are you calling a star when that's you? He always got a little sappy when he was nervous.
rockstar 🤟: im literally not having fun here without u hurry up :// your phone: isn't this UR album release party 😭 yun, why aren't u having fun? rockstar 🤟: just hurry up your phone: aish okok 🤧 eta 8min mr. impatient
You knew it was the jitters making him say things like that. Once you got there, you hoped you could help reassure him that he could stop worrying for just a second to enjoy himself. Even if Yunho worried about the album and what people thought, you were just as nervous. You hadn't even heard the entire thing—he’d been cheeky and didn't tell you he added a song to it last minute, but you'd listened to everything else.
You just hoped that people would continue to celebrate him and give him the love he deserved.
When your Uber driver pulled into the drop off loop at the front of the venue, you thanked him on your way out and threw the strap of your small purse over your shoulder. Already, however, as you were met with the residuals of flashing camera lenses and frantic paparazzi calls just a little ways down the driveway, the anxiety slowly began to settle in the pit of your stomach.
You could see the celebrities going up the entrance with people asking them to pose for their cameras, to say a word into their recorders.
Immediately, you turned on your heel and began slipping your way to a side entrance. The last thing you wanted was for dozens upon dozens of people to be staring at you, wondering who you were and why you were important. There were definitely people who knew you—you were plastered all over Yunho's social media because that was just what best friends did. But compared to everyone else walking up that driveway? Not a chance. You were nobody, and that was ay-okay to you.
Just as you thanked one of the employees coming out the side door for letting you in, you felt your phone buzz in your hand again, this time with an incoming call.
You picked it up and squeezed it between your ear and shoulder. “You're gonna need to speak up—the kitchen is super loud.”
“You're here finally!” Yunho said to you through the phone. “I was starting to get worried.”
You chuckled as you ducked out of the kitchen and into the main lobby to get to the elevators. The party was taking place somewhere on the seventh floor… if you could get there without getting lost. “Hey Yun, do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Calm down, man.”
The elevator sang its arrival and you stepped inside to the sound of Yunho sucking in a deep breath, then exhaling slowly. “I am calm… wait, are you in the lobby? Let me come down and get y—”
“I just got in the elevator, so don't worry—and I really don't think you should be leaving your own party, rockstar,” you teased. “Man, Mingi and Hwa really pulled out all the stops for this place,” you marveled quietly as you gave the elevator carriage a thorough look. It was made of marble and mirrors, every surface polished and crisp, like that of a tailored suit if tailored suits were made of crystals.
“Yeah, it's really great,” he agreed. “Remember the release party we threw for Crescent?”
A fond laugh tumbled out of your lips as you stepped out of the elevator and onto the seventh floor. Your mind filled with memories of his debut album's release party hosted in yours and Trinity's living room with three extra large Domino's pizzas, root beer floats, and a cheap disco ball. It had been a party for four that night—you, Yunho, Mingi, and Trinity—but your friends didn't need the fancy shit to have fun. “Definitely leagues away from this.”
There was a bouncer at the far end of the hallway, and you were certain now that you were in the right place.
“I kind of miss it,” Yunho murmured. You heard the sound on his end shift, simultaneous to watching the doors in front of you crack open and see Yunho's head pop out into the empty hallway.
“I kind of miss it, too,” you said into the phone, your eyes locked on his and a smile blooming over your features at the sight of your best friend, in the flesh.
There was a tender gleam in his eyes as he took you in and said something in a low tone to the bouncer. He stepped out into the hallway, letting the doors behind him shut fully.
“Slowpoke,” was his greeting to you as he scooped you into his embrace. The smell of his cologne was something familiar and delicious, and permeated your senses.
“Worrywart,” you quipped back, wrapping your arms around him to reciprocate.
When you both pulled back, he kept you at arm's length so he could take a better look at you. “I can't believe you're calling me the worrywart! I do recall that one night when Aurora hit the Top 100—”
You silenced him with a look and a playful punch to his shoulder. You pressed your lips together to suppress a smile as he tilted his head back in a jovial laugh. “Quiet, you. For once, I can't believe you're more nervous than I am.”
He gave a sheepish grin, fussing with the unbuttoned collar of his dress shirt, adjusting the chain he wore on his collarbones so the clasp sat right at the hollow of his throat.
You softened. Oh, he was really nervous.
“This album's just big for me; you know that,” he said, almost like he was trying to brush it off.
“I do.” The two of you began slowly making your way back towards the party doors. “Though, I'm excited to hear this mystery song that you snuck on there. I'm sure everyone will fall in love with the album, just like I did.”
He peered over at you then, and you couldn't understand why you were unable to read his expression then. It was… different. “Really?”
You blinked. “Of course,” you replied automatically. “I mean,” you added, “it's you, Yun. What's not to love?”
Yunho seemed speechless for a second, but moments later, he was breaking into a soft-cornered smile. “You always know what to say, Yn. Come on, there are some people who are dying to meet you.”
“Dying to meet me?” You laughed as the bouncer let the two of you into the party.
The party room was a rented out lounge space with wraparound windows that looked out at the skyline in the valley below. The main lights were kept low and warm, illuminating strategic places throughout the space to highlight the prohibition-like interior design. It was something out of a 1920s speakeasy with its velvet couches and dark mahogany wood finishes.
Yunho took you over toward the side of the room to get food first. There was a variety of snacks and small bites on the buffet table, and there was a bar counter shoved into the far corner where a bartender served drinks.
“I've pretty much socialized with everyone in this room already,” Yunho murmured to you as he shoved his hands into his pockets and grinned. “Meaning I can bug you for the rest of the night.”
Your eyebrows shot up. “There has to be, like, fifty people here. We still have the whole party left.”
“Yeah, but I have more fun with you anyway,” he said with a shrug. He reached for one of the little serving cups that held a little roll of rice armed with a slice of wagyu beef on top, all wrapped together with a strip of nori. “Now these—these are fucking amazing, dude. You have to try one.”
You snorted, but grabbed one of the little cups. “How many of these have you eaten already, Yun?”
He tapped his cup against yours like he was clinking glasses together. He chuckled, averting his gaze. “We don't have to talk about that…” His eyes caught onto someone nearby, and he perked up, shoving the entire bite into his mouth so he had a free hand to flag down whoever it was. “Mmh!”
You nearly choked on your own bite as you watched your best friend, who's cheeks were stuffed like a chipmunk's, flap his arm around in the air to get this person's attention because his mouth was currently occupied.
You turned your head to see who he was waving over, and nearly choked again, having to cup your hand over your mouth to prevent rice from falling out. Your eyes widened an alarming amount. “Mmno—!” You mumbled through your bite.
“What? I can't hear you,” he snickered. “Hongjoong hyung! There's someone I want you to meet.”
You made a crazed gesture—no, no, I'm not ready! How dare you ambush me with social interac—you swallowed the food in your mouth as Hongjoong made his way over. You had never met the famed Kim Hongjoong—legendary producer, prodigy musician, favorite model to ever strut down the Paris Fashion Week Runway. He dropped off the grid for a brief three-month hiatus until he suddenly reappeared, but in your best friend's Instagram story. At some point, Yunho had met Hongjoong and won his favor. Then again, it was easy for Yunho to win over anyone's favor.
No one really knew why Hongjoong disappeared like he had, but some speculate it had something to do with his new relationship status: single.
You were always starstruck seeing Hongjoong on Yunho and Mingi's social media, as well as Hongjoong's own platforms. Tonight was no exception.
Hongjoong's hair of the season was a simple light brown that complimented his skin tone and the warmth in his smile. You were used to seeing him in more extravagant garb, but tonight, he chose something very simple, but chic like Yunho.
Yunho and Hongjoong clasped hands in greeting. “What's up, man?” The latter chirped, eyes flickering over to you as you attempted to behave normally.
Yunho gestured toward you, his eyes twinkling as he swept his arm around your shoulders to bring you forward. “This is Yn. Yn, this is Hongjoong. He's the one who produced the album—”
“Now, don't downplay your own efforts, Yunho,” Hongjoong cut in with a knowing look. “You produced so much of it on your own; I fine-tuned and made a couple tracks, but the rest was all you, man.”
“I always tell him he's far too humble,” you agreed.
Hongjoong sent you a smile, extending his hand out. “Great minds think alike, Yn. It's very nice to meet the person this guy doesn't ever stop talking about.”
You laughed good-naturedly and saw Yunho's flushed sheepishness out of the corner of your eye. You shook Hongjoong's hand with a firm, confident grip. “Nice to meet you, too. You're—you’re incredible, by the way. I remember when Yunho posted a photo with you, and I literally screamed his ear off over the phone.”
Yunho winced and held a hand up to his ear, as if remembering the physical sensation of that phone call. “Yup, definitely damaged my eardrum that day.”
“Well, thank you; I'm flattered,” Hongjoong replied pleasantly. “So I'm assuming you've probably heard as much of the album as I have then?”
“I'm sure you've heard the whole thing,” you said. “Yunho has withheld one of the tracks from me, but I've listened to all the rest.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Oh? Which track did—oh.” As he and Yunho made eye contact, you watched as a silent understanding passed between them, and Hongjoong's mouth tugged upward in a teasing smile. “That song.”
You blinked. “What does that mean?”
Hongjoong flourished his hand as if to wave away the thought. “He just wanted it to be perfect, so we were working on it up to the last second. Nothing terribly concerning.”
Ah. You relaxed, but the curiosity still lingered in your mind's eye. “I'm sure it's great, nonetheless.”
“Oh yeah, you're gonna love—”
“Oh-kay! That's enough about the song,” Yunho chuckled nervously as he grabbed your shoulders and began steering you away from a clearly amused Hongjoong. “Let's go say hi to Mingi, hm?”
You threw him a look from over your shoulder, but went along with him toward wherever he'd seen Mingi wandering around. “What has gotten into you tonight?” You teased, though, you also hoped to know why he was so jittery. He wasn't even this nervous about dropping his debut album.
Yunho showed you a bright smile, the same kind of golden-retriever expression that the media knew him well for. It would have been enough if you didn't know him. “Again, it's an important album to me. And the song I added last minute is on the deluxe version, so I wasn't really confident in putting it on the original release.”
“Ah,” you murmured. You reached up to pat the hand that rested on your left shoulder reassuringly. “I'm sure it really is a great song, Yun, and I'm not just saying that. You can make an awful omelet, but you can't make an awful song.”
Your best friend bursted into laughter at the latter comment, and your heart soared to see the genuine smile on his face now. That was your Yunho shining through. “You're right—if I can't scramble eggs, at least I can write a song.”
Over the next hour and a half, Yunho took you on a tour around the room, jumping from friend to friend to introduce you to more of his world. For the most part, however, it felt like an excuse for you to bond with all his friends in teasing him about something or other. But he seemed content enough to see you getting along well with the other people close to him.
He had met plenty of your friends at your work, so it was only fair that you got the same opportunity.
At some point while you were with Wooyoung and San discussing all of the rehearsals for Yunho's upcoming world tour, Hongjoong summoned everyone's attention to announce that it was time to listen to the album. It would be a rather casual affair with the Youth album playing in the background of the party, but you were certain people would minimize their conversations to listen in.
You craned your neck to peer around the crowd to see where Yunho had gone off to. “Wait, guys, did you see where Yunho went?”
Wooyoung and San joined your search, but quickly hustled you into a nearby booth to sit and enjoy the album with your drinks. “He'll find us,” Wooyoung assured you as the three of you slipped into the leather seats. “He wouldn't miss this.”
“He'll at least be here by the last song,” San said offhandedly, his eyebrows wagging up and down.
Your lips parted, your face morphing into feigned offense. “Wait. Did he let you guys listen to the deluxe edition song, too?”
“Maybe,” Wooyoung giggled.
San cooed at your pout. “Awwh, don't take it to heart, Yn-ie. It was supposed to be a surprise for you.”
You raised your drink to your lips, sighing before taking a sip. “Everybody talks about this damn song as if he wrote it for me.”
Unbeknownst to you, the two others at the table exchanged pointed looks between one another when you were looking away. It was a wonder how Yunho was able to keep this all a secret from you. Though, even San and Wooyoung knew how busy you could get nowadays, so perhaps it really was just that easy. Plus, they had all at one point or another been privy to Yunho’s feelings—
“Speak of the Devil,” you perked up at the sight of your best friend emerging from the crowd with the others—Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Mingi, Jongho (vocal coach and album feature), and Yeosang (PR management)—in tow behind him. “We were wondering where you had gone off to.”
Yunho grinned as the lot of them squished into the circular seating arrangement with you, San, and Wooyoung. “Sorry, had to go round everyone up. The album should be queued up and ready to go.” He chose to sit on the end of the booth to your right while everyone else filled it up from the other side.
You offered him a sip of your drink, and he gladly took the glass from you. “So San and Woo were just telling me about how their tour prep is coming. You guys are leaving—what was it—two weeks from now?”
He hummed, smacking his lips as he set the glass back down on the table. “Yeah, it should be just about two weeks,” he said. His arm came up to rest against the back of the booth seat behind you. “You know, you can still come to the first stop with us…” This was said with a very pointed look at you from Yunho, followed by similar expressions from everyone else around the table.
“And you know that day’s when my supervisor holds quarterly meetings that are mandatory,” you shot back. As much as you hated the timing, the day that Yunho and the team planned to fly to their first stop on his world tour, you were required to be present for a very important meeting at work.
The Youth World Tour was something Yunho had been looking forward to and preparing for a long time. Besides working on the Youth album itself, his working hours extended over the past year or so to get ready for this major milestone. You would definitely be able to meet up with them at one of the tour stops, you just weren’t sure which one yet.
Things at your workplace were a little rocky as of late due to shifting management, but you would play it by ear. For your best friend, of course you would make it work somehow.
Your ears pricked up at the sound of strings strumming overhead and your heart leapt out of your ribcage for a moment. “Oh my god, I love this song.”
“You and me both, Yn,” Hongjoong chuckled across the table from you, reaching over so you could bump fists with him, “you’ve got good taste.”
“You’re only saying that because you wrote this one specifically,” Yunho sputtered out a laugh while rolling his eyes.
“It’s a good message,” you said, picking up your drink to take a generous gulp of it. There was a little left at the bottom of the martini glass and you swirled the liquid around before handing it over to Yunho to finish. “I think this one will definitely make it onto my work playlist.”
Yunho draped the back of his hand over his forehead, setting the now empty glass on the table. “Wow, relegated to the work playlist. Is that all I am to you?”
“You are a mood maker,” you pointed out with a teasing smile.
“Bro, you're complaining as if Yn doesn't put her work playlist on for everything she does.” Mingi arched his brows over the rims of his sunglasses. (Why was he wearing sunglasses indoors and at night? You didn't know; he said something about looking cool.)
Wooyoung chuckled. “What? So let's say you're trying to sleep—”
“Yah, I have a different playlist for that! I'm not completely unreasonable.”
“Completely,” Yunho and Mingi said at the same time, then looked at each other with wide, excited eyes. They bursted out laughing at once, too, leaving you to deadpan at the two clowns to your eleven o'clock and three o'clock.
You sighed. “I hate you guys.”
That only made them laugh louder, spurring on the others to crack smiles and for you to do the same.
Yunho calmed slightly, his cheeks hurting from smiling. “Aw, you walked right into that one, Yn.”
“So you're saying you are, in some capacity, unreasonable—oh my god, don't hurt me!” Mingi shrieked as he shoved Yeosang's body in front of him like a human shield as you lurched forward and threatened to grab him.
Yeosang sent Mingi a dirty look as he wrestled out of his neighbor's hold. “Dude.”
“Jongho, protect me.”
The vocal coach popped the olive from his martini into his mouth. “If you can't handle the heat, hyung, stay out of the kitchen.”
You nodded, raising your pointer finger up. “Exactly.”
For the next hour, you and your friends shared good company and conversation, while also commenting on, praising, and enjoying the tunes from Yunho's Youth album. There were a good thirteen songs featured on the album, and while most of them were inspired by real life, you remembered the days and nights when Yunho would break out the white board under his bed to draw out a concept map of the storyline he'd created in his head for some songs. It was like a miniature Easter egg hunt for fans to piece together from album to album.
When the clock hit nearly midnight, you recognized the song that marked the end of the conventional album—track number thirteen, 22. It was a song that reflected and lamented on his early stages of adulthood, all the goods and bads, all the hopes and dreams he had left. It was something that tied the regular album with a satisfying bow, but you were also giddy to hear the secret fourteenth deluxe track.
But as his ethereal voice from 22 faded out, the same guitar chords from the first song of the album began to play.
Everyone at the table paused in confusion.
“Uhh, I thought you were revealing the hidden track tonight, Yunho?” Seonghwa asked from across the table.
Yunho tilted his body out of the booth to peer into the sound booth at the very back of the lounge, a furrow in his brow. “I thought I was, too,” he said as he stood up. “I’ll be back in a sec.”
Before anyone else could say anything, Yunho disappeared past the door to the sound booth. You frowned as Hongjoong excused himself to catch up with him, mumbling something about helping with any technical difficulties.
In retrospect, it wouldn't be the biggest deal if you didn't get to hear the song tonight. You would simply listen to it when the deluxe album dropped in about a week, but you wouldn't deny that you were a little disappointed. Everyone else at this table had already listened to it—why had Yunho not shared it with you yet? Did he think you would judge him or not like it? You didn't think you were ever so harsh a critic, but that would explain why he was so nervous all night.
Regardless, you remained positive.
When Yunho and Hongjoong returned to the table, the rest of you all looked on to them expectantly.
“Something wacky is going on with the system right now and won't play the file for the hidden track,” Hongjoong huffed. He passed Yunho a sidelong glance, and you saw how Yunho avoided his friend's eyes like the plague. “Sorry to disappoint, Yn.”
Everyone's attention whipped toward you, and you straightened like a deer caught in headlights. “Oh, uhm, it's no biggie,” you said. You glanced over at Yunho who, if anything, seemed guilty. Or maybe it was just something apologetic. “Really—I can wait for it to drop officially.”
You didn't like how the air seemed to shift during this exchange, as if all the other boys were sitting on the edges of their seats, faces morphed into mixed ranges of confusion and disbelief.
You cleared your throat. “Anyone want more drinks?”
As the night waned and the party came to a close, you found yourself being helped into another Uber car to head home. After the supposed tech glitch, the remainder of the party passed by without a hitch. At the very end, Yunho popped open a theatrical bottle of champagne for all his guests to close out the celebration.
The backseat door closed just as Yunho ducked in with you, his hand waving out the window to San, Wooyoung, and Jongho passing by along the curb.
The alcohol had gradually made its way to your brain, and there was a light buzzing at the base of your skull that made you feel all warm and fuzzy. You yawned, leaning your head against Yunho's shoulder.
He chuckled, one of his hands coming up to gently pat your head. “Tired?”
“Mhm,” you hummed as your eyelids fluttered closed. “You didn't have to lie, y'know.”
You felt his shoulder tense under your cheek. If only you could feel the rapid beating in his chest, then he'd be as good as done.
“I don't know what you're talking about,” he replied innocently, nimble fingers running over the chain links of his wristwatch.
Your eyes cracked open slowly. “Yunho.”
A beat passed, then he sighed. “Are you mad?” He asked quietly and his hand nearest to you found yours as he began to mindlessly inspect the chipped nail polish on your fingertips.
“No, silly. Why would I be mad?” When he didn't respond right away, you let out an exhale of your own. “I mean, I could tell you were nervous about me listening to the song all night. And if you weren't ready for me to listen to it yet, then I totally get that, and I'm okay with waiting. I just would rather you tell me that instead of make Hongjoong lie for you.”
He stopped playing with your fingers. “I'm sorry, for the record. Thank you for understanding.”
You hummed in reply.
The drive continued on with the accompaniment of a random radio station playing on low volume. You weren't going to fall asleep just yet with the alcohol still working its way through your system, but you kept your eyes closed nonetheless.
“I missed you, you know?” Were his first words to break the next silence.
A small smile wormed its way onto your face. “I missed you, too. I feel like we haven't seen each other in forever.”
He chuckled, the low sound rumbling through his chest and into your ear. “Texting can only take us so far. Isn't that crazy? We can't even survive a week without hanging out, but we're… we're about to be separated for so much longer timewise and distance-wise.”
You grumbled. “Don't remind me—wait. Has it really only been a week?” You peeked one eye open, a frown coming to your lips. “No way.”
Yunho smiled, shaking his head. “Believe it or not, stargirl. It's been only a week.”
“In-fucking-sane.”
“You're telling me.”
“How are we going to survive?” You pondered aloud, genuinely. If you couldn't fly out to see him within the first handful of tour stops, you and Yunho at the soonest wouldn't be able to see each other for three weeks. And if you couldn't escape your work duties and your PhD responsibilities, then it would be longer than that. “You're gonna have a closer relationship with your Valorant account than me.”
Yunho snorted. “I already have a closer relationship with my Valorant account than you.”
“Shucks.” You breathed out. “Guess I'll just text Hongjoong then. You know what he told me tonight when we were exchanging numbers? All eight of you nerds have a group chat and he gets ignored like a mom in a family chatroom.”
Your comment made a laugh tumble out of Yunho's mouth. “Did he make that analogy?”
“No, Seonghwa did when he overheard.”
A wheeze. “That tracks.” Yunho licked his lips as he turned his head slightly to glance down at you leaning on his shoulder. With his free hand, he warmed his palm over your head like he could keep you here forever. “So what's this about texting Joong?”
You shifted your position to get more comfortable and clung to his arm to press yourself closer. There was still a little ways to go before you reached your apartment. “I told him offhandedly that I wanna pick up a new hobby… something about crocheting or something, and apparently that guy is like… amazing at everything, so he's gonna help me out.”
“Ah.” The sound was quiet. “I'm glad you guys got along.”
You smiled to yourself. “Me too. He's really cool.”
“Not cooler than me though, right?”
You blindly reached over to pat his chest in warm reassurance. “Don't worry, big guy. I guess you're still the coolest guy I know.”
He clicked his tongue at you with a weak chiding, “Yah. You only guess? Don't tell Mingi that.”
“Oh, I wouldn't dream of it.”
The Uber eventually pulled up along the curb outside your apartment complex. You lifted your head up from Yunho's shoulder and woke yourself up with a good stretch of your limbs.
He helped you out of the car, handing you your purse when you finally got your bearings. “Are you sure I can't walk you up? You look like your knees are about to buckle,” he chuckled.
You shook your head. The cool evening air was helping your brain to sober up. “No, no. Don't worry about it—I’m not as drunk as that one year.”
“Dear heart, how could I forget,” he teased. “Mingi still has the recording of when you begged to be bridal carried.”
Your face warmed at his mention of that memory and you wrinkled your nose at him. “I was gonna say ‘I love you’ along with goodnight, but I suppose not.”
Yunho froze. “What?”
Maybe you really weren't sobering up, because you didn't catch his strange reaction. “Nevermind,” you said flippantly. “Love you, Yun. Good night. Get home safe!”
He seemed to unfreeze, his lungs filling with breath again. A soft smile melted onto his pretty lips as he looked on toward you with a warm fondness. “Love you, too. Good night, Yn.”
He remained where he was outside the car door as he watched you dig your keys out from your purse and open the complex door. When you had one foot inside, you stopped, and turned back to him with a big grin on your face. “Hey!”
“Hey?” He laughed.
“I'm proud of you.”
For the thousandth time tonight, you made him lose his breath, his hold on reality. He swallowed—he wanted to kiss you. “I love you. Get some rest, stargirl.”
You waved to him in reply and he waved back. Then you disappeared through the door and left him there, his heart full and beating fast, the longing in his chest weighing heavier than before.
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When you and Yunho were thirteen, you spent the longest period of time away from each other for the rest of your lives. It measured to about one summer break long when Yunho flew to South Korea to spend the entire vacation there and you could do nothing but chat with him via good, old fashioned e-mail.
Now that the two of you were older, even a couple days dragged on like an eternity. And because of your clashing and stacked schedules, a couple days almost always bled into a week.
A week since the release of Youth marked the inevitable release of its deluxe edition and the ever mysterious fourteenth track.
“Yn, wait, can you just help me finish this set of primers?”
You were this close to escaping the lab before one of your colleagues caught you. Taking a deep breath, you resolved to turn back and help them out. One less thing to worry about later, right? You could still listen to the track once you got home.
Except you couldn't, at least not right away. You saw the email on the bus ride home:
Hello TAs! One of your peers has unfortunately been involved in a motorbike accident early this evening. We have been informed that they will recover to full health, but because they are hospitalized, we will need to redistribute responsibilities regarding grades and as to who will cover their TA sections…
You skimmed down the email's contents, knowing you wouldn't be the one filling in as an actual TA. Because you were a first year graduate student in your first quarter, you opted to start off with grading work for now. But even if you didn't have to deal with a whole section of undergraduates, you could feel the blood drain from your face.
“You've gotta be shitting me,” you said, then slapped your hand over your mouth once you realized you'd said that aloud. You mouthed a sheepish “sorry” to a parent and her child nearby, then ducked your head to look at the contents once more.
There was no way they wanted—no, needed—all of those graded by tonight.
This was cruel and unusual punishment, but you knew you were going to do it anyway.
By the time you finished grading, shoveled dinner into your mouth, and took a therapeutically scalding hot shower, it was sometime past two in the morning. Thank fuck it was Saturday.
It was less than twelve hours later that you settled into the passenger seat of Yunho's Lexus sedan with a pair of shades covering your dehydrated, puffy eyes from the world and whatever paparazzi was stalking his car. Yunho glanced over at you with barely concealed amusement. “Well, good morning, princess.”
“You can't see it but I'm glaring at you,” you grunted as you strapped yourself in with the seatbelt. “I can't believe you wake up before noon now.”
“Unfortunately,” he chuckled, peeling his car away from the curb. After an unsatisfactory six hours of sleep, Yunho had woken you up with the obnoxiously loud sound of your phone ringing. You managed to negotiate for him to pick you up in two hours rather than half an hour—and now here you were. You never truly considered yourself a breakfast person and you would have happily slept all the way to lunch, but even through the exhaustion, you wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see you.
He would be gone by the end of the week, after all.
You leaned your head back against the headrest. “I used to have to lure you out of bed with the smell of bacon. Remember when you ate that entire plate of raw-ass bacon and pancake batter that Mingi made?”
Yunho let out a loud laugh that made you smile. He glanced over at you. “Bro,” he sighed, shaking his head, “you know I'll eat anything. Oh my gosh, I will never forget the horrified look on your face when you came out of the bathroom and found out what happened.”
“You looked like a kicked puppy when I told you that you shouldn't have eaten raw bacon,” you snorted. You'd felt so awful that Yunho was such a good eater who didn't complain; he didn't have any negative side effects afterward, thankfully, but you swore to never let Mingi in the kitchen or to let Mingi feed Yunho ever again, so long as you lived.
There was a café a few minutes drive from your apartment complex that the two of you liked to go to. It was a little hole in the wall, located on the second floor above a pet shelter, and the entrance could only be accessed through the stairs in the next-door alleyway.
Yunho adjusted the beanie over his bangs and you shifted your sunglasses up to the top of your head as you entered the establishment. There were a few people seated in the area to the right, but something you liked about this place was its hidden gem quality. (And the drinks and food they served, of course.)
“Hi, welcome in!” The barista behind the counter called before ducking behind the espresso machine. “Give me two seconds, and I'll be right with you.”
“No worries, take your time,” Yunho chirped back as he scoured the menu, eyes squinting and tongue darting out to wet his lips.
You had a general idea of what you wanted already, and you let Yunho know what it was before slipping off into the restroom.
By the time you emerged from the back hallway where the washrooms were, Yunho had finished ordering and was standing by one of the open two-seater tables by the far window with the soft autumn sunlight painting over his features. For a second, you stood at the opening of the hallway, just admiring him. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep making you envision the sunlight dancing around him as he sat down in one of the seats.
Heat rushed up your neck as your eyes met across the café. Gazes locked, you stood frozen, but a smile bloomed on your best friend's face like the coming of spring. It was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.
And then he made a face, cocking his head to the side like a puppy with a question. 'Why are you just standing there?’ He seemed to ask.
You shook yourself out of whatever strange daze you'd slipped into, then walked over to join him.
“You okay?” He asked as you took the seat across from him, a teasing lilt to his voice, yet there was still concern in the curve of his mouth.
You waved said concern away. “Yeah. I think I'm still waking up or something.”
“Ah,” he nodded in understanding. He frowned. “What time did you go to sleep last night?”
“Like… some time past two.” On cue, you let out a large yawn, lifting your sleeve up to cover your mouth. “It's okay. I'll just sleep early tonight or something. One of the other TAs got into an accident, so we just had to do some make-up work and I just happened to get home late as it was.”
You could already see the guilt manifest on his face for waking you up, and you were swift to add, “I'll be fine with food and coffee, so 's alright. What about you? How'd you sleep last night?”
“I slept decently,” he replied, leaning forward to rest his cheek against his fist. “I didn't end up dropping the deluxe album, so it was a little more restful than—”
Your brain took a second to catch up. The… the deluxe album… oh. Your eyes went from half-mast to wide open. “You—you didn't release the deluxe? Sorry, I was so busy yesterday that I didn't check my socials.”
“Don't worry about it,” he said with a sheepish smile. “But yeah, I told my manager that I still wasn't ready to release it to the public just yet. I don't know when I'll postpone it to, but it probably won't come out until while I'm on tour.”
Ah. There was that disappointment settling in the pit of your stomach again. This wasn't about you, but why did it seem like he was avoiding your eventual listening to this song? He was almost always sending you audio files without prompting, so what made this one different?
Nonetheless, it wasn't your song. You would respect Yunho's privacy if he wanted to keep this one to himself and his friends.
You unconsciously rubbed your arm. “Oh okay. Yeah, I mean—take your time, Yun. I'm glad you don't feel pressured to release it when you aren't ready.”
His expression softened to something tender that made your chest feel fuzzy. “You'll listen to it soon, I promise.”
The barista called out Yunho's order number, and your friend stood up to go retrieve it. You sighed as you fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt and peered over your shoulder as a pair of newcomers asked him for his autograph and a picture. You watched the pleasant smile spread on Yunho's face as he conversed with them as easy as breathing air, alongside the faint blush over his cheekbones.
No, you didn't know what had gotten into you this morning.
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“No, no. You have to loop it through this piece here—yeah, there you go.”
You were so concentrated on following Hongjoong's directions that you didn't even register the sound of Yunho's front door opening and closing. Hongjoong clicked his tongue and scooted closer so he could direct your hands and the crochet hook himself.
“Uhm… hey?”
Both yours and Hongjoong's heads whipped up at the sound of Yunho's confusion. He stood at the entrance to the living room area where, scattered all around you and Hongjoong, were clothes, toiletries, and other essentials laid out for Yunho to throw into his bags.
Tonight marked the evening before Yunho and the team were to set off on the Youth World Tour. Tomorrow, they would fly out sometime in the afternoon, which meant that you would have time to send them off before heading to work and class. However, because you hadn't seen Yunho since this past Saturday when he dragged your ass out of bed for breakfast, you invited yourself over to his apartment to oversee his packing. Hongjoong just so happened to be swinging by Yunho's apartment and you asked if he was up for an impromptu crocheting lesson.
Hongjoong arrived some time while Yunho ran out to the Chinese place down the block to grab dinner, and the two of you had been hunched over the ball of yarn and hook ever since.
“Oh, you're back!” You exclaimed. In your distracted state, Hongjoong took the opportunity to take the crochet piece from you and subtly fix the mistakes you made.
Yunho's brows creased, eyes darting from you to Hongjoong as he slowly placed the takeout bags on the semi-cleared coffee table. “Yeah… Joong, when did you get here?”
You leaned forward to help clear off the rest of the coffee table and to also assist in unpacking all of the takeout containers. Yunho shucked the baseball cap he was wearing off to the side, carding a hand through his dark locks.
“Like… seven minutes ago,” he replied cheekily. His mouth curled into something mischievous as he locked eyes with Yunho. “I can leave, though, if you wanted to be alone—”
“Hyung—”
“I'm messing with you,” he snickered as he handed you the yarn and hook. “I only came by to drop off the emergency backup files hard drive and to give Yn-ie a sneak peek of her crocheting lessons to come.”
(Yunho's eyes narrowed a millimeter. Yn-ie?)
You set the unfinished crochet square down on the couch to walk Hongjoong to the door. “Are we still on for tomorrow, by the way?”
“What's tomorrow?” Yunho twisted around where he was seated on the floor to watch you and Hongjoong make your way to the front door.
“You,” said Hongjoong with raised eyebrows at your best friend, “are going on a plane with everyone else. Because I'm not leaving until the day after tomorrow, Yn and I are bonding over lunch after we see you all off.”
You and Hongjoong finished up finalizing plans in the doorway, followed by amiable farewells. Yunho called out a “good night” to his friend as Hongjoong slipped out the door, and left you and him to the apartment by yourselves.
You claimed the spot on the floor next to him and accepted the pair of wooden chopsticks he extended to you. “I'm sorry if I wasn't supposed to invite him in. I probably should've asked,” you said sheepishly as you snapped the chopsticks apart.
“Oh, no, he's been over quite a few times, so it's all good,” he replied swiftly. “I just didn't expect you two to be so close.” He added a laugh at the end that sounded more nervous to him than it was supposed to.
“We've been texting back and forth, but I guess so. Nothing like the two of you,” you jested, lifting your eyebrows up and bumping your elbow against his.
Yunho grinned. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“You guys spend all that time together in the studio—WHA—NO! Keep those hands to yourself!” You shrieked, rolling out of the way to dodge his hands that threatened to tickle you into submission. Yunho had thrown his head back in a carefree laugh, a beautiful expression in itself, that had you reciprocating.
When you were sure he wasn't going to attack you (affectionately), you scooted back over to your original spot next to him. He smiled to himself at the sidelong glance you casted him, and he went and grabbed one carton of rice for himself and the other for you.
“Thank you for dinner, by the way,” you told him as you opened up your carton, his somehow already opened and spilling over with food.
You once again caught him with his mouth full, and Yunho swallowed the bite of food he had before replying. “Yeah, man. Of course.”
“I swear that I will definitely get the next meal we have—”
“Yn.” He touched the back of his hand against your arm to draw your attention to him. “You literally were the one to make sure I made it out of college alive, like, I can never thank you enough for how much you did for me then and continue to do for me now.”
You swallowed, suddenly blown back by the way he looked at you right now. “I did it because I care about you, Yun. It's not something I expect to be repaid for.”
“I know,” he said with a nod, lips pulled into a tender smile that made your stomach do flips. This was the look no one else got to see from him. Sure, he could fill stadiums of people who would see his big, bright grin that shone brighter than the sun, but… but this one, this smile, was yours. “That goes the same toward this meal, okay?”
Yunho notched his finger under your chin and tilted your head up slightly to meet his eyes. “Don't worry about it.”
You set your carton of rice and chopsticks on the table, he copied your movements, and you wrapped each other in your mutual embraces. The startling realization that you wouldn't see him for longer than a week from tomorrow onward rushed toward you like the coming of a tide to shore. Before you knew it, the water was up to your knees, and you—what were you going to do without him here?
“I miss you already,” you whispered.
You felt him squeeze you tighter, nose pressed against the side of your neck. “I won't be gone too long.” A promise.
“Thank god Seonghwa and Wooyoung can cook.” At the sound of his snort from above your head, you squawked out in your defense, “Who else is gonna make you bacon and pancakes in the morning when you’re dead tired?”
“Hey! I can fry bacon, I’ll have you know!”
You pulled away from him so he could see the look of pure disbelief on your face. “Okay, rockstar. I believe you.”
He scrunched his nose up at you. “That’s not very convincing.”
“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
Yunho scoffed, reaching over to flick your nose. You let out a sound of indignation and rubbed your nose, a scowl on your face at Yunho’s very pleased expression. And even if you were currently conspiring on how to get back at him, you couldn’t help but resolve something right that second—you would do everything in your power to see his show in two weeks’ time—to see Yunho in two weeks’ time.
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The thing about cheap plane tickets was that the cheaper you bought them, the less “amenities” that it came with. The one you’d purchased specifically for two weeks in the future did not allow you a refund. This meant that if something were to arise, you would be a good several hundred dollars poorer, and your plans to surprise Yunho at his show would fall completely through the floor.
Good thing you weren’t about to let that happen, right? …Right?
“You’re sick.” Those were your roommate Trinity’s first words to you as you stumbled out of your bedroom and found her perched on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. She fixed you with an unimpressed look as she stirred around her morning coffee.
“I’m not—” Your own response was cut off by one very untimely cough into your elbow. You wrinkled your nose at the metallic taste at the back of your throat. Great. “—sick.”
“And I’m Oprah,” she deadpanned.
“You could be.” Did you really sound as much like a dying walrus as you thought you did? Holy shit.
She stood up from her stool, setting her coffee cup on the counter, then walked over to you to direct you back into your room. “I’m not permitting you exit from this apartment until you're better. Back to bed with you.”
“But—”
“No buts! If you wanna still be able to fly by the end of this week, then you have to get better, Yn.”
You really, unfortunately, could not argue with that. Nearly a week and a half had passed since Yunho started touring. Opening night had been a massive success, as you’d seen the broadcast and read the reviews on social media. In the concert photos and videos slowly being released online, there was no doubt in your mind that Yunho belonged onstage. He was radiant as a diamond in each depiction of him, and he sounded better and better each night.
Suffice to say, you were beyond proud and happy for him.
In order to make your surprise successful, you informed Yunho’s team of your plans so they could help you get into the concert once you arrived. Your part consisted mainly of finishing all of your work ahead of schedule so you weren’t swamped when you got back. It was nearing the end of the term, meaning there was lots to grade and study, but when you had a goal, you were determined.
The only downside was that, between the long days and nights of work, your body couldn’t fight against the swift rush of early winter air that swept through the city in the past week. Your working hours stretched out longer and longer until your body just… gave up. Or at least, it was giving up.
After calling in sick to your workplace, you crashed back into bed for what you hoped to be a restful nap. Maybe when you woke up, this would all just turn out to be a 24-hour fever.
(It was not a 24-hour fever.)
You didn't even know what time it was when you woke up groggy and your head pounding like there was an active construction site taking place in your skull. Your bedroom was dark, and the world outside your window was also dark. The sound of your phone ringing drilled into your cranium, and you groaned as you felt around your mess of blankets and sheets for wherever that damned thing was—
“Hello?” You croaked into the receiver when you finally grabbed ahold of your phone.
There was a pause on the other end, and you were about to ask who it was when they responded. “Oh my god. You're sick.”
Your heart leapt into your throat at the sound of your best friend's voice and you shoved your face into the pillow. “I'm not sick.”
“Yn, sweetheart, you literally have the sexy sick voice.”
“You think I'm sexy?” You asked in a drowsy, unwell daze. “But anyways, I'm not—” You lifted your face into your elbow in time to practically hack out your lungs. You groaned. “Okay, maybe I am sick.”
Could things get any worse?
You could hear the frown in his voice. “You sound like my worst nightmare.”
“Am I sexy or your worst nightmare? You need to pick an adjective.” You whimpered as you struggled to pull yourself up into a sitting position.
“At least I know it did nothing to that attitude of yours,” he laughed. He sobered for a moment when he heard you groan as the blood rushed to your head. “Hey, do you have meds with you? I can order some and have them there in half an hour.”
You waved him off, even though he wouldn't be able to see. “No, it's okay. I should have taken an ibuprofen before I crashed. I'm sure we've got extra Nyquil around here somewhere…”
You attempted to stand up, a swear falling from your mouth as the vertigo hit you and sent you tumbling back down onto the edge of the bed.
“Yn, I'm sending you medicine—and dinner. That one bistro near your apartment is still open, right? I'll let Trinity know that deliveries are on the—Yn?”
You lifted your head and broke out of your return to unconsciousness. “Hm? Sorry… I did not hear anything you just said.” You rubbed your hand down your face and scooped your phone up to make your way out of your room. You somehow made it to the door, and you leaned against the doorjamb as you pushed out into the dark hallway. “You don't have to send anything, Yun. Trinity's studying for her law school finals, so I don't wanna bother her. Plus…”
You opened up the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and bit back a sigh of disappointment. No cold medicine. There was pain medication, at least, so that should hopefully help you fall asleep again.
At your lack of words, Yunho asked, “No medicine?”
“No, I have some medicine,” you countered. “Just—not the right ones.” Before you could swallow any pills, you hacked out another lung into your elbow; you swore your coughs were sounding worse and worse.
“You know what? I'm flying home—”
You slammed the pill bottle on the bathroom counter. “Don't—what? Yunho, do not fly home. It's literally just a little—” You coughed, “—cold. You have another show in two days. If you show up on my doorstep, I'm not opening the door.”
From the silence on his end, you knew he wasn't in total agreement with you. Maybe the bottle slamming was a little much, but his statement had surprised you. It didn't make sense for him to drop everything for you when you were experiencing something so trivial as a cold.
Not unkindly, you said to him, “I appreciate the concern, but you have bigger things to worry about and care about.”
“You will always be the most important thing I care about.”
His admission was so sincere that your heart gave a violent palpitation in your chest. You struggled to swallow, and it wasn't just because your throat was sore. “And I feel the same way about you,” you murmured, “but I can take care of myself, okay? I'll be back to normal in no time.”
You heard a sigh from his end. “I know; you're right. I just… wish I was there with you right now.”
You could understand that—it was how you felt. But some things couldn't be helped, and Yunho needed to be where he was and you needed to be where you were. You could hold down the fort while he was gone taking over the world by storm.
You closed the bathroom door to give an extra barrier between your voice and where Trinity was studying in her room. After knocking back a couple painkillers, you seated yourself on the floor with your back against the bathtub and your knees pulled up to your chest. “You know what's kind of ironic?” You coughed into your elbow and wrestled down another one bubbling up in your throat. You shouldn't have been speaking so much, but you could deal with the repercussions later. “I think I freaked out when you said you were going to fly home, not just because that's insane, but also because I was going to surprise you by flying out to your show in a couple days.”
He sucked in a breath. “You were gonna come surprise me?”
“Yeah,” you muttered, swiping at your nose and tucking your chin to your knees. Then you had to go and screw it all up, and you couldn't even get your money back. You pretty much accepted that you weren't going to be better by the time the day rolled around, especially not for travel. “I'm sorry I couldn't come see you.”
“No, don't be sorry!” He cooed. “I'm—I’m really sorry you're sick and I'm sad you couldn't make it, but… but think of it this way, hm? As soon as you get better, I'll fly you out to whatever city I'm in and we can hang out and you can come to the concert. All you have to do is get better for me.”
You didn't know if your schedule would allow after this setback, but you were going to remain optimistic. With a small glimmer of hope peering through your chest, you replied, “Okay.”
“Okay,” he said, and you could hear the fond smile in his voice.
“By the way,” you began, and had to clear your throat from how congested it was getting. Maybe some hot tea would do you good. You clambered to your feet to get out of this bathroom and do just that. “Was there a reason you called originally or was it just to say hi?”
A beat of hesitation passed between your question and his answer. “Ah…” There was a wince in his voice, “I, uhm, called because I wanted to know if you'd seen something online, but obviously you haven't 'cause you were asleep, but…”
Seen something online? Your movements with your electric kettle paused. Had someone posted something about Yunho? “What is it, Yun?” Who's ass did you need to beat?
“Seonghwa hyung found out that someone leaked the hidden track online a few hours ago.”
You leaned your cheek against your palm, eyebrows knitting together. “Shit, dude. I'm so sorry,” you said with a frown. That meant some rando on the internet had hacked into someone's files and leaked the song.
A sharp exhale from Yunho's end. “Yeah, I dunno. We're working on getting it taken down right now, but in the event it can't be done soon enough, I think I'm just gonna release the deluxe version in a couple hours.”
It seemed by his response that it wasn't the hacking that was his primary concern. Leaked, unreleased songs happened to every major artist in the industry, and it had most definitely happened to Yunho before this. But this time… this time felt different. You knew how hesitant he was to release this, and having the track get released to the public on terms that weren't his? Well, that just wasn't fair.
“You don't,” you said softly, reaching for a mug in the top cabinet to plop your tea bag into, “have to release it officially right now. You can still wait until you're comfortable.”
You heard sounds of shuffling on his end, followed by the sound of a door opening. You thought you heard Yeosang's voice as he murmured something to Yunho. The exchange was swift, but it reminded you that your time with your best friend here was limited.
“Do you need to go?” You asked, trying to cover up your hope that he didn't have to with nonchalance.
He hummed. “It's okay, I have a few minutes left. They want me to 'okay’ a couple things out on set, but that can wait. Uhm… as for what you said about releasing it—I,” he sighed, “I think this was the push I needed to finally drop it, y'know? I think either way I was going to be scared for—for people to hear it—for you to hear it. But uhm… yeah. That's all I wanted to say. I think it'll probably be released whenever you wake up.”
You poured the hot water of your tea bag, setting the kettle down gently. Letting the steam rise up to help clear your congestion, you could finally think a little clearer now. “I'm sorry this didn't happen on your terms.”
“I appreciate that. I hope you like the song—I… I really hope you like the song.”
A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “I'm going to like the song, rockstar. You have nothing to worry about, I promise.”
He let out a small laugh and the sound of his happiness, however big or small, made your chest feel heavy. “I’ve missed you so much,” he rasped out. “So much.”
You pressed your forehead to your fist, willing the prickling feeling of tears at bay. “I wish I was there—I’ve wished I was there with you the moment you left. But I'm so, so proud of you. I know I've said this before, but you belong on that stage, Yunho. I'll be there… I'm always there in spirit.”
“You can't say that and expect me not to fly my ass home right now.”
You sputtered out a laugh, which was probably a bad idea, because it led to an utter disaster of a coughing fit. When you finally managed to get a reign on things, you picked up your mug of tea and took a couple ginger sips. It was still piping hot, but whatever scalding temperature it was at somehow soothed your throat and your head.
You set the cup down. “Again, I'll be there in no time, I promise.”
“You swear on your life?”
You sighed, but you pressed your lips into a smile. “I swear on my life.”
Yunho's departure from this call was imminent, and so you made further promises to get plenty of rest and to take care of yourself. You only did so when he promised to do the same for himself. Just after you both hung up, you received a text message from him: Stay up for five more minutes!! The delivery's almost there.
You huffed out a rough-sounding laugh, and bit your tongue around a smile. Of course he had still ordered you stuff. You shook your head to settle on one of the kitchen stools to nurse your tea and wait for the delivery to get here.
When the driver was safely out of bounds of your door, you poked your head out into the hallway to grab the paper bags seated on your doorstep. You had only expected medicine and maybe dinner, but not only were there cold medicines, orange juice, and hot soup from the bistro down the street, but there was a bouquet of flowers there, too.
Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you pulled everything into the safety of your apartment. Damn Jeong Yunho and his gestures. It didn't mean anything—they were just Get Well Soon flowers, but why did you kind of wish they were more than that?
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The Youth album's fourteenth track entitled your space hit the charts at number two. By the time you woke up, still sick as hell, the track had been officially released for about eight hours. You rolled over in bed to guzzle down half a bottle of water and cold medicine, then grabbed your phone.
It seemed that social media blew up while you were asleep. The deluxe drop was trending under a couple different tags, and based on initial skims, you were happy to report that most had everything good to say about it.
Though, some of the commentary made you pause. He has to be seeing someone, said one user. Look at these lyrics. These could only be produced by a man in love.
You had to swipe out of the app at that point. Instead, you went over to yours, Yunho's, and Mingi's group chat together where Mingi and Yunho had waged a meme war while you were asleep after Mingi wished you a “Get Better Soon” message. You sent back your own meme in response and opened your music streaming app to find track fourteen.
The boys would probably all be asleep by now, so they wouldn't respond any time soon.
You found your space exactly where you thought it would be, at the very bottom of the deluxe album. You sat yourself up against your headboard, plugged your earbuds in, then hit play.
If only you knew how much it would rock your world.
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Hongjoong was never wrong about his hunches. It had been about a week and a half since you came down with an awful cold and couldn't make it to your intended surprise show, and slightly less than that since the deluxe album dropped. Even before the tour started, life was a whirlwind, but now that the tour was only ramping up further from this point, it had been nothing short of a total rush.
Different cities every week, at least two nights a city—all of it took a toll on both the staff and artist involved. Hongjoong's hunch, however, regarded the artist in particular as he watched said artist keep his smile up to say goodnight to the remainder of the stadium workers who lingered for cleanup. Yesterday was their last show date in this city, and today, Yunho and his team had come by to help load everything up for transport to their next destination. Tomorrow, they would fly out and be in the next city to begin preparing for the next round.
But as Yunho began making his way toward the exit where Hongjoong was waiting for him, it was impossible to miss the immediate exhaustion that flooded his features. He carded a hand through his hair as he checked his phone, then pocketed it in the back pocket of his pants.
“Hey,” Yunho nodded to Hongjoong as he met him at the exit and they both walked out into the chilly evening together. There was already a car waiting at the curb to take them back to their hotel—there was still so much that needed to be done before they left for the airport tomorrow.
“Hey,” he said back. “Everything okay?”
Yunho glanced over at him. “Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm fine; just tired. I think it's a good thing I started packing before we came here earlier,” he mused. For him to pack early? A miracle.
Hongjoong bobbed his head in understanding. “Yeah, I get that, but that's not really—you know you can be honest with me, right? I know this has all been… a lot.” And Hongjoong would understand; he had been in the public eye for so long now, and all of that could be so incredibly draining. From catering to fans and journalists and sponsors, it could be difficult finding himself amongst all that mess.
Plus, Yunho had the added bit of being away from home for a very long time. From what Hongjoong understood, Yunho only used to tour relatively close to home, and when it was farther, it was during his school breaks. He also knew that you were an integral part of Yunho's sanity, and that even before he reached this level of fame, you were his rock, his anchor, his ground control.
Being away from you for so long was beginning to show. When Hongjoong brought it up offhandedly to Mingi, Mingi was swift to agree.
“I—” Yunho began as he slipped into the passenger seat and Hongjoong into the back of the car. He murmured a soft greeting to the driver before strapping himself in with a seatbelt. “—it definitely has been hard,” he admitted with a sigh. “I don't know, Joong. You know that rush you get while onstage, but it just comes crashing down a couple hours later? Like the adrenaline leaves you all at once and all you crave for is home?”
Hongjoong pursed his lips, watching Yunho lean the side of his head against the window as he watched the world pass by. “Yeah, I do,” he said quietly. “The moments between all the rush and excitement, you're no longer distracted from how much it all is.”
A nod. “Yeah.”
“You miss her?” It was less of a question and more so a statement. Hongjoong's hunches were never incorrect. It was both a blessing and a curse.
Yunho's quiet was answer enough.
Hongjoong played around with the back of his phone case. He knew you had listened to the song—he’d asked Yunho and you'd texted Hongjoong, too. Yunho reported that you gushed about the song and affirmed him in all his choices and lyricism as always, but he was certain that you didn't get it. But when you had run to Hongjoong questioning your own feelings and if Yunho had been scared to tell you if he was in love with someone, Hongjoong could confidently say that you did get it, just not one hundred percent.
There was still miscommunication in the message, but he knew that was only something that the two of you could sort out.
“Have you guys talked since last week?”
“Yeah, we have. She's been…” He pushed a breath out of his mouth, “... She's been working her ass off trying to make up for the amount of time she was sick. I don't even know how she isn't getting sick again. I mean—all the shit she has to weather through—I wish I could help.”
And he couldn't, not like how he wanted to, not from so far away. Maybe that was what was eating him up inside the most, besides the fact he believed his feelings to be unrequited.
The car pulled up to the back entrance of the hotel Yunho and his team were staying at for the time being. The two of them thanked the driver on their way out, and they were swiftly greeted by employees coming out of the back for their breaks.
When they reached the warmth of their hotel floor's hallway, Yunho said to Hongjoong, “I miss her so much.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his Youth World Tour hoodie, eyes lined in silver. “I worry about her so much, too. I'm sure she worries just as much about me and I know that she's more than capable about taking care of herself—’cause god, she was the one who kept me afloat all these years, and I—”
I love her.
He slapped his key card against the reader and shoved into his hotel room with Hongjoong trailing after with a sympathetic frown on his face.
“It just feels wrong sometimes when I can't be with her. Is that crazy?”
Hongjoong settled a warm hand on Yunho's shoulder as the latter sat down on the edge of his bed. “It's not crazy,” he said. He'd felt like that about a person, once upon a time. After everything Hongjoong had gone through with his last relationship, one might think he didn't believe in love, but he was still clawing for it. He wanted something that he could see manifesting between you and Yunho. He wanted to help you reach that.
He sighed and sat down next to him. “It's completely valid to feel this way, y'know? She's been a huge part of your life and your passions, and for you to see all this without her seems incomplete.”
Yunho nodded. “Yeah.”
“You can go home whenever you want, you realize that?” Hongjoong asked. “We have time built into each week to give you rest days, man. We can make that work.” It might be a little tiring for so much travel, but one trip back wouldn't hurt, especially when it could help his mental state more than simply powering through.
“I know,” he replied. “I don't… I just feel like I want her to see that I can do this, that she didn't put her trust and energy into someone who would fall so fast—”
“Do you seriously believe she would think about you that way?”
Yunho's expression shuddered, and he let out a shaky breath as he shook his head.
Hongjoong arched his brow. “Exactly. She would never fault you for needing a break. Being human is not a sign of weakness, Yunho. She's your best friend—I think she has more forgiveness and compassion for you than that.”
Yunho swallowed. Of course what Hongjoong said was right. You wouldn't look at him any different if he needed a break; it was just a thing about being kinder to himself. But sometimes it was hard to put that into perspective, and perhaps he just needed someone to do that for him.
With no good choice made without a decent night of sleep, Hongjoong bid Yunho goodnight.
As soon as Hongjoong slipped out of his friend's room, he sighed and mentally calculated what time it would be where you were. You should have been awake.
And awake, you definitely were.
You would be lying if you said you hadn't been listening to the song your space on repeat for the past week and a half. Even as you sat in one of the campus dining halls doing work and eating your crappy sandwich for lunch, your headphones were spilling with your best friend's gorgeous croons.
You questioned everything at the same time. You'd figured out two days after you first heard it that you were in love with your best friend.
The lyrics had resonated with you, and you had come to the startling conclusion that you felt the song's meaning toward Yunho.
All you could do since was freak the fuck out and tell Yunho that the song was incredible. You didn't know who the song was for or about, but you knew it was important to him because of how scared he was to release it. Had he been scared to tell you he was in love with someone? Why?
Sometimes you found yourself tearing apart the lyrics like a rabid trash panda.
I couldn't ever leave you behind They couldn't ever take me away Baby, if I could pick a heaven on Earth It would be anywhere in your space.
You broke away from your work and sandwich to the sound of a text notification. Suddenly remembering how loud your vibration ringer was, you silenced it, then opened up Hongjoong's message: I know you're probably moping and eating a shitty sandwich—what. You glanced down at said shitty sandwich that sat in its equally sad plastic container. How did he know…? —and he's not doing well either. He's miserable, dude.
Everything slowed for you, and it was no longer about your so-called epiphany. You felt your entire body and mood drop at the news. You'd seen social media posts commenting on Yunho's stage presence and brightness never fading, but there were always the one or two who noted something along the lines of him seeming too tired or that perhaps he didn't have enough stamina for this.
The latter comments made your blood pressure spike, but there was, unfortunately, some truth to it. You just didn't think it was this bad.
You pressed the backs of your knuckles against your eyes. You hadn't been doing the best, clearly, and you knew that it was largely because you missed him. Being away from someone you considered home for so long meant that you were bound to get homesick.
You didn't know what to do. There was so much work to be done, and you had just caught up. On top of that, you were short a few hundred dollars from the last time you tried to fly out.
Another message buzzed in from Hongjoong: I think you guys really need to talk.
The organ in your chest rattled around in its cage; it longed to be with its partner. You were starting to understand that now.
The song playing in your ear was slowly petering out, and all you could hear was his voice.
And I've kinda been wanting to ask if we can Skip the 'why’ and get to the 'our’ Because baby, I love your space But I love ours more.
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Yunho had not flown home that week. Some emergencies had sprung up as soon as they landed in their new city, and all bets were off to be able to go home. All that he could do was buckle down and get comfortable. Even so, he knew how to make the best out of a situation.
As he stood at the very center of the main stage, he held a hand up to shield his eyes from the bright spotlights shining down on him now.
“Is that better?” Hongjoong's voice echoed throughout the near-empty stadium.
From one of the balconies, Jongho cupped his hands up around his mouth to scream at the top of his lungs, “LOOKS GOOD, HYUNG!”
“Jongho,” Yunho chuckled into his microphone, “did someone not get you a headset, bro?”
A beat passed, and then, “NO.”
Mildly amused laughter cropped up around the stadium in reaction to the youngest's troubles. It was little moments like these where Yunho could forget for one second just how tiring all of this amounted to become. His smile was genuine, and his tongue darted out to trace his teeth—
“Jeong Yunho, put your damn tongue away.”
Yunho's eyes went as wide as saucers, his expression morphing into something like childlike surprise as he immediately retracted his tongue into his mouth. But in the split second it took his brain to process the words that had been said, he also recognized the voice who'd said them. From the big screen, any one of the staff members or you could see the way his face stretched into the widest grin possible, his eyes lighting up like spotlights.
He lifted the mic in his hand up to his lips as he tilted his eyes up to the sound and lighting box far up in the stands. From where he was onstage, he could just make out the shape of you in the box next to Hongjoong—the sneaky bastard. “Ln Yn, get your ass down here right now,” he said, hardly able to contain the excitement in his voice.
You didn't need to be told twice.
You raced down the stadium steps from the box, your legs carrying you as fast as humanly possible without falling. Yunho leapt off the stage and left his microphone behind to meet you in the middle.
Somewhere between the pit and mezzanine, you flew into his arms and he caught you, spinning you around. The glee on both of your faces was enough to make everyone stop and appreciate the tangible love before them. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you pursed your lips to subdue them. You squeezed him as tight as you possibly could; his arms held you firmly around your waist, head tucked into the joint between your neck and shoulder.
“You're here,” he croaked with tears in his voice now. You heard him sniffle, and only held him tighter. He felt the added strength and let out a sob. “I missed you so much.”
Oh, for fuck's sake—you started bawling like a baby. “I—” you sucked in a breath, “—I heard—so I booked a flight—”
This only caused his body to tremble harder. “Oh god… Yn… I…”
You sniffled and brushed your hand over the back of his head in an attempt to get both of you to calm down. “Hey, don't worry about it, okay? It doesn't matter; you know I'd drop everything for you.” When his only response was to press his wet eyes against the heat of your neck, you blinked away your tears. “Plus, I missed you, too, rockstar.”
Yunho let out a watery laugh, gently setting you down onto solid ground. You both looked like a hot mess and a half: snot dripping out of your noses, eyes red and drowned in salty tears. The adrenaline rush from the surprise had trickled out of your system, but your heartbeat continued to rattle around in your chest with reckless abandon. His messy, damp hair; the wobbly shine in his dark brown irises; the way he smiled at you with that something on his face… he was everything to you.
“Glad to know the feeling's mutual,” he said, nudging you with his elbow, then pawing at his eyes to wipe the tears away.
“Good to see you, Yn!” San piped up from the stage with his microphone. He had picked up Yunho's microphone from where he'd abandoned it to come meet you.
You laughed, lifting a hand up in a wave. “Hey, San! Hi everyone!”
Chimes of greetings from all the other boys and staff members cropped up from all around the arena.
Yunho brushed a hand through his hair and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Did all you fuckers know about this?”
Mingi was perched on the ledge of the stage. His grin seemed to be the widest after watching your reunion. He tugged the microphone attached to his earpiece closer to his mouth. “Don't tell us you're not grateful now.”
“Nah, I'm just surprised Wooyoung was able to keep his mouth shut.”
Wooyoung didn't need a microphone to let you all know of his offense. You could hear his squawk of disapproval all the way from where you stood—crazy how acoustics worked.
Yunho heard your laugh from beside him, and he glanced over at you to catch the fond look on your face. He hadn't stopped smiling for the past five minutes, and it didn't matter how much his cheeks hurt. You were here; that was all that mattered.
“This place is—” you marveled as the two of you began walking down the stairs together toward the stage. The backs of your hands brushed against one another, breaths away from touching, from lacing, from being together. “—huge. It's so much more—” You felt your lip wobble again, “I don't even know why I'm getting emotional. It's all you dreamed of as a kid, wasn't it?”
The tears pricked at the edges of his eyes again, and the two of you looked back at each other with equally wet eyes and bright smiles. “Yeah,” he nodded, swiping at his eyes.
“You deserve it.”
“All thanks to you,” he said with a sniffle, hugging you to him again. You were solid and real beneath his fingertips—he was so happy you were here. This was where you belonged; none of this felt right without you.
When you finally reached the bottom of the pit, Yunho had to run back up to the stage, and you went through the aisles until you found your perfect seat. It wasn't long before Mingi bounded up the steps to come join you. He brought you in for a long awaited hug of his own.
“What's good, Yn?” He asked with a soft chuckle as he pulled away and settled in the seat to your left.
Just ahead, Yunho appeared onstage with his microphone in hand, and the two of you lifted your hands in sync to wave to your best friend.
You adjusted your bag in your lap, and clasped a hand on Mingi's shoulder. “This is surreal. Does it feel surreal?”
Mingi's lips pulled into a smile as nostalgia made his vision cloudy. “It does, every single time. I'm glad you're finally here—we’re all very happy that you're here now.”
You bumped your head against his shoulder and let it rest there for a moment, and his hand came up to gently pat your head to tell you he understood. You didn't need to say anything.
For the next hour and a half, you and Mingi got to watch Yunho and everyone else run through the last of the day's lighting checks. Periodically, someone else from Yunho's personal team would come and sit with the two of you, then leave quickly when they had something else on their to-do list.
At last, when the session wrapped up and everyone was sent to go home for an early night, you rushed down to meet with Yunho again.
He waited for you to be at his side before leading you down toward backstage. “There's a couple things I need to grab in my dressing room before we can head back to the hotel.” A thought suddenly interrupted his thoughts and his eyes widened. “Do you have accommodations? Please tell me you do.”
“Don't worry—I promise I'm not sleeping on the streets,” you teased. You'd figured all of that out pretty last minute with Hongjoong and Mingi's help.
Yunho nodded, a smile coming to his face. “Okay, good. I was gonna offer my room and I could sleep on the pullout couch.”
The thought of sleeping in the same room as him made your skin warm, and if you hadn't realized your feelings for him before, you would be confused as to why you were so flustered at the thought now. It wouldn't be the first time you had a sleepover. But this would be… different. Oh lord.
The backstage hallways were scarce and dimly lit in order to save energy, but it was enough to guide you and Yunho's way to the star dressing room. You swallowed as you reached the door—the facade plastered with a pretty, gold star with his name on it—and followed him inside.
“Hey, Yun?” You asked him as you lingered by the door and he rushed around to grab his things. The room was decently spacious, and definitely larger than all the other ones from his past tours.
“Mhm?”
“Could we… talk about something?”
He glanced back over his shoulder as he threw things into his bag. “Yeah, ‘course.”
You toed at the polished ground, fingers twisting and wringing in front of you. “It’s about the song. The, uhm, the your space one.”
His movements paused. He looked up and connected gazes with you through the vanity mirror in front of him. Yunho cleared his throat and ducked his head to zip up his bag. “What—what about it?” He asked, shouldering his bag and meeting you back at the door.
He seemed unable to look you in the eyes directly now as he closed the door behind the both of you as you stepped out into the empty hallway.
“I just,” you stammered. Blood rushed up to your face and you could hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears. “I needed to know—I didn’t need to know—it’s your life and your song, and you have every right to have feelings for someone without me knowing. And I think I’m asking this for selfish reasons, but… are you seeing someone?”
The question caught him off guard, his eyes blowing wide open. “Wh—no. No, I am not seeing anyone. Why do you ask?”
“The song—I know I shouldn’t be indulging in what people on the internet say, much less in the opinions of those who don’t even know you, but I couldn’t help but agree with them when they say the lyrics, the—the feeling of the song—you’re in love, and I—” Your breath caught in your throat as you choked on the words lodged there: And I am in love with you.
Yunho pushed an exhale out of his mouth and stepped toward you. So much shone in his eyes right then, and it didn’t matter how much light there was in this damn hallway, his eyes would always glitter like twin diamonds. “I am in love with someone. Yn, I’m in love with you,” he said. “I thought that the song would make it obvious, which is why I was so scared for you to hear it, but I realize now that this was just something I should have said outright.”
Your heart fluttered in your chest and it wasn’t from the nerves anymore. God, your knees felt like buckling from the force of the tenderness in his eyes alone. “You’re—you’re in love with me?”
“I am,” he nodded. He slowly reached for your hands and clasped them within his own. “I’ve been in love with you since that day you ran out of Science Olympiad practice to come to my audition; I’ve been in love with you from the moment you yelled at me for not being ambidextrous and I had beef jerky in my mouth—”
“I did not yell at you!”
He broke out into a cheeky, yet fond grin, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face with his hand. “I’ve been in love with you for so long that I can’t imagine what life was like before I was in love with you—and yes, you did yell, but you can yell at me as much as you like, and I would still be head-over-heels for you.”
Your lip curled in on itself at all of his words, at everything he was revealing to you now. You wished you had known—oh, god, you wish you had known. You didn’t know if things would have been different, but for some reason, you had a feeling that all paths might have led here nonetheless.
You squeezed his hand between your own now. “You’re everything to me, Jeong Yunho,” you rasped out, unable to put strength behind your voice for fear of all of the emotion about to spill out. “And I’m so stupid for taking so long to figure it all out, but I’m in love with you, too, and I’d be damned if I let another day pass without you knowing that.”
Something washed over him in that moment, and he laughed, leaning over to cup the back of your neck and rest his forehead against your own. It was ridiculous, the fact that both of you were giggling and smiling at such a precipice of emotion, but it felt right.
You could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips as he murmured, “Fuck, I wanna kiss you so bad.”
“Then come kiss me, rockstar,” you said, looping your arms around his neck. You drew him down to your mouth and felt his body mold against your own. Every crevice and curve slotted so perfectly with one another, and the heavy longing in your chest slowly eased.
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“You guys have been incredible for me tonight—” Yunho beamed as he walked toward the front, center stage and looped the electric guitar strap over his head to the sound of the roaring crowd, “—so I've got a little surprise for you.”
One of the staff members had set out a mic stand and bottle water for him, and he approached both items to fit the microphone into place. Tonight was the Friday night concert being held in this city, and the energy was dialed to one thousand in all the best ways.
He held onto the microphone with one hand. “This song is dedicated to—written for—my best friend in the world, the love of my life, my stargirl. I'm sure you know it—you crazies debuted it at number two on the charts—this is your space.”
His smile tugged up wider at the reaction he received. If anyone in the crowd didn't know the song, they were about to fall in love.
Yunho laughed, shaking his head, as he began checking to make sure his guitar was tuned with practiced, nimble fingers. “Oh, by the way—” he pointed up at the accessory he wore, the crocheted headband holding his hair up and out of his face, with a row of stars across its band, “—she made this for me. Isn't it cute?”
The stadium echoed in choruses of “aw” and cheers.
He could only duck his head with a smile, eyes twinkling with fondness and tenderness at the thought of you. You were in the crowd, but you could be up here with him in spirit. “Yeah, that was me, too.”
After you and Yunho left the stadium yesterday, hands intertwined and a new page in your relationship turned, you’d gone back to his hotel to share a restful evening in one another’s presences. You revealed later that night that you spent the four or five days you were bedridden practicing your crocheting skills until you were able to make him a headband. A row of three stars studded the length of it—stars for your rockstar.
Yunho struck his fingers down the strings of his guitar with a gentle rocking motion from his opposite hand to let the sound reverberate around the stadium. The crowd cried in love as his soulful, beautiful voice filled their ears with love of his own. And as his fans filed out of the stadium for the night and headed home, Yunho could finally return to his home. Because you were here now… no matter how far, no matter the distance, the two of you would always find a way to be in the other's space.
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a/n: pls remember to reblog, comment, and send asks if you enjoyed!
atz m.list
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