#sorry this got away from me like eight times i'm just. i have a lot of feelings

[tiredofthehumanlife]

I like our kitchen is that okay with you?

Barbie dolls: five hargreeves x gn! reader

Words: 3.6k words

Summary: you guys are just lovey dovey while getting ready for Grace's birthday party

Warnings: set in those few good minutes of s4 when everything was fun and nice, insinuated you're an early riser, Viktor doesn't get kidnapped everything is perfect, you sleep on your stomach now, five touches your butt, mention of nonsexual nudity, you lean your head of Five's shoulder, insinuated you don't want kids but five could be joking who knows, you work at the library now and are a massive music freak, Fives a thrifting GOD, pretty much just docile and sweet five and you, five is still at the CIA oops sorry, you're kinda a passenger royalty Five will not let you open a single door, mentions that you have a bag but its not specific on what kind could be a purse could be a backpack could be a fucking draw bag tbh, you are fun, okay bye

Request: dude stop snooping on me how did you know it was a request

Five was the worst to wake up next to. He snored with his mouth open, drool slipping down to his pillowcase. Somewhere during the night, he flung his hand towards your face, pushing the blanket over your eyes. His hand was still resting on your forehead, palm to the ceiling. Somehow, one of his legs was hanging off the edge of the bed while the other was thrown over your butt. You thought about not sleeping on your stomach anymore so he’d stop kicking you on the ass at 2:46 am every night, but you worried you’d miss his contact. You had one hand resting over his heart, and as gentle and regular as your position seemed Five made up for it with his 'I'm a fallen spider’ position every night. Five jerked in his sleep, knocking the back of his hand into his chin. You sat up, glancing around the room.

With sleep clouding your vision, you gently move Five into a slightly less strange position. You pulled both his hands to his stomach, letting them rest there. You moved his one leg away from your behind, letting the other stay where it was halfway off the bed. You got out of bed, tucking the blankets back in on Five’s sides so he wouldn’t feel the difference in warmth. You still weren’t entirely sure if Five knew he slept so weirdly, you woke up before him every day.

You watched Five from the doorway. He smiled in his sleep, something fun must be happening in his dream. He snuggled further into his pillow, letting out a sigh. You headed towards the kitchen, playing your music very quietly as you started breakfast.

This was a pretty regular routine. By the time you were setting the plates down on the breakfast table, Five was stumbling through the doorway. You glanced up at him. Five squinted at the light peeking through the curtains from over the kitchen sink. He looked around the room, his shoulders sinking when he found you. Five headed straight for you, reaching his hands out for your face. He greeted you with a kiss. You pulled back from the kiss with a smile.

“You know, I never move. I don’t know why you look around the room like you’ve never been here before.” You said, pulling his hands away from your face to hold them. Five shrugged.

“Maybe I like looking at our kitchen.” You hummed at him, pulling away to settle into your chair. As you both ate breakfast, you studied the kitchen more than usual.

It wasn’t anything crazy. A strange part of your brain, that you didn’t like to talk about much, assigned colors to lots of things. For example, the number seven was orange however eight was green. If you had to pick a color for your kitchen you’d pick that weird middle ground between yellow and orange that sounded like swings squeaking when you tried to fly as a kid and staring up at the trees and watching the sunlight shine through the leaves.

Your kitchen was in a small rectangle shape. The cabinets were brown and a small rounded dining table was shoved into the back right corner. On the one long side of the rectangle were the sink, oven, refrigerator, and many cabinets top and bottom. It had a window over the sink, so you could peer into the backyard as you did the dishes. The other long side of the room was the open, welcoming the sight of your living room. A small line of bottom cabinets jutted out on that side along the line where a wall would be. You never added barstools on the side in the living room but you could’ve.

As of right now, it was that time in the morning when it had the calming feeling of the night but the warming sun of the morning. The light was peeking through the kitchen window, shining through the floral curtains Five found at some estate sale. The light caught in the beaded curtain you made and hung behind the small floral curtains and made colors dance on the kitchen counter and couch arm.

There were pictures of you and Five hung on the refrigerator with tiny magnets that had different foods on them. Once again Five found them at some estate sale. You looked down at your plate, remembering the tablecloth Five brought home from a thrift store because it was your favorite color with the tiniest embroidery of your favorite animal.

You leaned forward over the table, knocking Five’s chin up, and capturing his lips in a kiss. It was kind of gross. He had a bit of syrup on the side of his mouth and he tasted faintly of bacon. You settled back into your chair, continuing your breakfast as if nothing happened. Five squinted at you, wiping at the corner of his mouth and sticking his thumb in his mouth. You grimaced.

“What was that for?” Five asked. You shrugged.

“I don't know, I like looking at our kitchen.” Five stared at you for a moment like he was trying to read your mind. He hummed, paying his attention back to his food.

A few thirty minutes later, Five was rushing out the door while fixing his tie. You followed after him, half-ready yourself, your shift didn’t start for another thirty minutes.

“Briefcase?”

“Hand.”

“Brushed your teeth?”

“New toothpaste and everything.”

”Lunch?”

“Other hand.”

“Coffee?”

“They have some at work.”

“You hate that coffee.”

“I can’t hear you over me about to be late.” You glared at Five’s sass. He made a frown at your look. “Sorry.”

“Socks?” Five stuck his foot out at you, showing off his lovely charcoal grey socks. ”Summer colors, beautiful.” You said sarcastically.

“It's the CIA, my love, not a Betsy Johnson fashion show.” Five said, slipping his shoes on as fast as he could. He glanced up at you through his mop of hair.

“Did you do your hair?” Five glared at you. You dropped it, moving on to the next thing.

“Wallet? Keys? ID card?” You asked. Five pulled his other shoe on, standing up straight. He faced you again, smiling as he leaned down to grab his suitcase.

“It’s fine, baby. Just like literally every other morning. I’m not going to forget anything. It’s basically impossible.” Five said. You followed him to the door, holding it open as you waved him down the hallway. Once he turned the corner, you returned inside. You furrowed your eyebrows when you felt like you were missing something. Chalking it up to you still not being dressed for work, you headed back for your bedroom. You stopped in the living room when you heard the front door open. You walked back to the front door, bumping into FIve halfway there.

“Turns out I can forget things.” Five muttered.

“It was your keys wasn’t it?” Five shook his head. He leaned down and gently pulled you into a kiss. He pulled you closer by the front of your pajama shirt. You would’ve returned the ferocity, but you knew better than to wrinkle his suit. You held your hands up in the air next to your head but still leaned forward towards him. Five pulled back, still keeping small contact.

“I have to go.” He said, muffled by your lips. You wouldn’t have understood him if you hadn’t had this problem multiple times before.

“You have to go.” You repeated, and yet still leaning forward. FIve hummed.

“I have to go.” He said again, although there he was still keeping his eyes closed and lips pressed to yours. He pulled back, finally breaking whatever spell you two were under.

“I have to go.” He said for a third time, walking backward towards the door. You followed after him, nodding along. Five stopped in the doorway, staring at you. You motioned for him to go. He sighed.

“I love you.”

“Go.” Five nodded, slipping outside and down towards the driveway. You stood by the door again, watching him walk towards the car. You are startled when you realize you didn’t say it back.

“I love you!” You yelled after him, watching him spin around and blow you a kiss before settling into his car.

Hours and hours later, you were shelving books, as your average librarian does. You had one of your headphones in and playing your music. It was quiet, as many libraries are. You pushed another book into the right spot, before turning back to the cart. You pushed it down the aisle between the shelves. You heard the bell over the door ring. You abandoned your cart and moved through the shelves to get to the front door. When you got close enough you knew they could hear you, though not see you yet, you spoke up.

“Welcome, Let me know if you need anything.” You said before turning the corner. Lovely Five was waiting by the door with a bouquet. He was still in his work suit, though his briefcase must still be in the car. He smiled when he saw you. You walked the rest of the way to the front door, greeting him by wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Whatcha doing here?” You asked, smiling at him. You hoped most of the patrons were in the back searching for a book. Five moved the flowers away you two so you wouldn't crush them. He leaned towards you, pecking your lips.

“I came to pick you up. Thought my car would be better than the bus.” Five said. You hummed. You sighed and pretended like you weren't giddy just being around him.

“Yeah, I guess. My shift ends in 15 so start reading.” You gestured towards the shelves. Five nodded and headed off for the nonfiction section. You finished shelving and were riding home in Five’s car in no time. He brought the flowers for you, so they rested in your lap on the ride back.

By the time you were pulling into the driveway, you had two hours to get ready. Five ran as fast he could to get your side of the car. You stared at him confused as you opened your door. Five slapped your hand away from the door, shooing your head back in the car. He shut your door before pulling it open again and holding his hand out to you. You glared at him before giving him your hand. Five walked with you into the house before you split up after taking your shoes off.

You headed off to the living room to replace the dying flowers in the reading nook. Five headed off to change out of his Work Suit. You both got ready, moving at your own pace. You shared a shower in which Five watched you with a loving smile as you danced ridiculously to your music. Also where Five remembered how much he missed you shampooing his hair.

Then you were pacing around the house as you got into the outfit you planned your head for the party. Five skittered past you when you were working on transferring everything you needed from your work bag to your ‘I'm going to hand this to Five once we get there so it's no longer my problem and I can play in the ball pit’ bag. He slid into the bathroom with his socked feet and when you heard the hair dryer turn on, you focused back on what you were doing.

You talked yourself out of taking a book. (Very hard) Then you were being rushed towards the door by Five as if he wasn't the one stuck in the bathroom for 45 minutes with the blow dryer going. You pulled your shoes on as you stumbled out the door. Five locked the door behind you as you both jogged down the steps.

“Do you think Grace will like her present?” You asked, now worried she might hate what was inside the wrapped box in your arms. Five snorted, pulling his car keys from his pocket.

“Well if she doesn’t, I know Diego will like it.” Five said, taking the box from your hands to set it in the trunk. You hummed. It did make you feel a little bit better. You thought about Diego gasping with joy louder than Grace and stealing the box from her hands. You doubted he would do that but it was fun to imagine his dramatics. You settled into the passenger side. Five handed you the aux cord as he pulled out of the driveway. You took it from him, imeditally plugging it into your phone and playing your music. Five bobbed his head along while you sang along. He’d even throw in a hand movement sometimes.

When you reached the party you were just barely 15 minutes late. Shocking. You took he box inside from the trunk, letting Five hold the doors open for you. Five lead you through the building by your elbow. You smiled when you saw familiar faces. Diego came over to you two first. He took the box out of your hands, staring down at it in confusion.

“What did you guys get her? An entire litter of puppies and a bike?” Diego joked. You waved him off.

“No that’s ridiculous, the bike is in a different box.” You joked making Diego grimace.

“Oh, Ha-ha,” Diego said sarcastically taking the box towards the already growing gift table. Five stood next to you, shoving his hands into his pockets. Your shoulders slumped.

“I thought it was funny.” You muttered. Five rubbed your upper arm, cooing.

“It was hilarious, I almost pissed my pants.” Five said, pecking your cheek. You gave him a small smile before patting his side. He slipped his arm around your shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his waist, giving him a weird-sided hug. You pulled away, gripping onto his hand and leading him to the next family member you had to say hi to.

You approached the group of Luther, Klaus, Ben, and Claire. They were all facing each other, making a circle. You stood behind Luther.

“Excuse me, Sir. You can't be unattended without a child.” You said, raising your pitch so you sounded squeaky and, quite frankly, annoying. Luther turned his head around with a confused face. Once he spotted you, he smiled brightly and wrapped you in a hug. You dropped Five’s hand to hug him back.

“Oh it's so good to see you,” Luther said, pulling away from you. He moved out of the way, letting the rest of the group see you. Klaus cheered and clapped his hands. Claire immediately pulled you into a hug while Ben let out a groan. You stood back next to Luther.

“I’m here, too.” Five said, moving to squeeze into the circle between Luther and Klaus. Luther patted him on the shoulder. Klaus reached over and shooed Five away with his gloved hands without touching him. Five glared at Klaus. Luther pulled the conversation back to the center.

“So what are you two up to now?” Luther asked, looking between you and Five. You shrugged.

“Domestic things. Decorating our house, going to work, and trying new recipes on the weekends. It’s actually quite nice being a human and not in the center of an apocalypse.” you said. It actually felt really fucking nice that your biggest problem was what color to paint the bathroom. Five hummed.

“Right, so when are you two going to make me an uncle?” Klaus asked. You weren't entirely sure if he was being sarcastic or not. Five scoffed.

“Please, we’re too old for kids.” Five said, glaring at Klaus.

“Not to mention you're already an uncle.” You added. Klaus pouted at you two and hovered his hand over Claire's shoulder to simulate a pat. Five moved away from Luther's side and stood next to you instead.

“You know he's coming up on three years of sobriety?” you gasped at Claire. Five leaned forward as Luther smiled.

“Really? Klaus, that's amazing. I'm so proud of you. You should throw a party or something.” You said. Klaus shrugged. He shook his head.

“It's really no big deal,” Klaus muttered.

“Yes, it is. You should be proud of yourself Klaus, sobriety is hard work.” Five said. Five reached around the back of your arm and hugged your arm to his chest. Luther nodded.

“I'm very proud of you, I know that must've been a struggle,” Luther said. Klaus shrugged again. You hummed.

“Right well me and Claire are going to plan a celebration for your three years whether you like it or not.” You said. Klaus turned to Claire and shook his head no with a grimace. Claire started nodding back at him with an evil smile.

“Yes. Yep, uh-huh. It's happening.” Claire said. You tugged on Five's elbow.

“Right well, we have to go say hi to the others.” Five said, following after you as you walked away. You and Five split up. You went around to his siblings and had long talks with each of them over their current jobs, hobbies, and problems. Five went to find someone to complain to and find a beverage. The party flew by as you two went around to say hello to everyone. As soon as you were wrapping up your conversation with Viktor, it was present time.

Everyone circled the present table and more importantly Grace. Grace stared at the large pile of gifts and turned back to Diego and Lila.

“I don’t know which one to open first,” Grace said.

“Oo ours, Grace. Open the one from us.” You said. Five moved closer to you, holding your hand again. Grace nodded and pulled down the box covered in wrapping paper that Five picked out. Grace tore through the paper like it was butter and handed the scraps to Diego. The box was blank and held together with tape she could tear through. Grace pulled the box open and gasped when she could see inside.

She reached inside, pulled out two of the laser tag toy guns, and pointed them to the sky pulling the triggers over and over again. She laughed maniacally at the sky. Diego and Lila laughed. Grace spun around and pointed the guns at her parents, pretending to fire again.

“We got enough for the twins, Grace, and you guys so fun for the whole family!” Five shouted over the chaos. You smiled at Diego and Lila fighting back against Grace, turning her attention back to the presents. You leaned your head on Five’s shoulder. He hummed, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. Presents flew by after that, everyone else gave her lame presents and you’re definitely not biased in saying that at all.

“Okay kids, this is your last chance to play. The parents are going to clean up and then we’re going to leave so play now.” Diego shouted over the short heads of children running around him. You gasped and pulled yourself away from Five. You handed him your bag, which he swung over his shoulder. You leaned down and slipped your shoes off, handing them to Five as well. He kissed you goodbye as you sprinted off towards the ball pit.

You played with Grace in the ball pit as the lame adults were cleaning up. You pulled Grace up into the air. making her squeal before dropping her back into the ball pit.

Grace quite enjoyed playing with you and about thirty minutes later, you were out of breath and even Grace was tired. Five walked over to the ball pit, standing next to the edge. He held his hand out, helping you out of the pit. You pulled Grace over the edge. She ran off to Lila, who spun her around in a circle.

“Did you have fun in the ball pit?” Five asked. You knew he was probably being sarcastic. He leaned down towards the floor with your shoes. You leaned back against the ball pit wall as he gently lifted your leg to pull your shoe on.

“Yes! It was amazing, you should’ve joined us.” Five glanced up at you, shaking his head. He finished with the other shoe and stood up straight.

“Not really my style.” He muttered. You rolled your eyes. You rudely mimicked his voice. Five latched onto your hand and dragged you towards the door.

When you finally made it home, you both undressed into your pajamas in a speedy fashion. You faceplanted into your shared bed, groaning. You rubbed your arms around in the blankets.

“I missed you.” You whispered to the sheets. You felt Five settle on top of you, using you as a full-body pillow. It was a little difficult to breathe with a full-grown person on your back but you’d let it slide.

“I was only gone for three minutes. And you say I’m the clingy one.” Five muttered, pulling his head over your shoulder and kissing your cheek. You hummed.

“Still think you are.” FIve groanded at you. “Not that it’s bad, I love you being clingy. At least you’re not being a dickhead. Well, more than usual.” You said, leaning over to kiss the side of his mouth. Five tried to hide his smile, knocking his nose into the side of your neck.

A few moments went by where you and Five just sat together. You nudged him off your back. He slid off your back, laying next to you instead. He scooted closer, throwing his arm over your back. You pulled your arm over his side, squeezing him even closer. Five sighed, his weight sinking into you in relaxation. You were so glad it was a Friday because tomorrow you could wake up and stay in bed with Five for hours. You ran your fingers through his hair, making him squeeze you closer.

[myjisung]

stray kids : calling them pretty !

content. stray kids ot8, gn!reader, complimenting, idol and non idol!skz, lots of dialog, insecure bangchan, confident hyunjin & seungmin, sillies — fluff.

warning. none

wordcount. 1,6k ( got carried away a little bit )

a/n. sorry, i had brainrot !!

bang chan ( 방찬 )

"you're pretty"

"now you're just being silly."

"i mean it!"

chan looked back at you, unimpressed. his brow looked unamused and so did his mouth. he did not buy it.

"chan i promise you. you're a very pretty guy."

he shook his head and you could feel your heart break to pieces. no matter how many times you complimented him, whatever the words you chose, chan would not believe you.

"that's not a word i'd use to describe myself" he laughed dryly "i mean, have you seen me?"

enough. you got up and walked towards him. that got his attention. chan turned his face away from his computer to look to your side and you grabbed his face with both hands. shocked, his eye grew a little bigger.

"chan" your voice quivered "you have to believe me. you ARE pretty. always have been. it pains me to hear you deny it over and over again." his lower lip trembled "whatever it is that makes you believe you don't deserve to hear that word being uttered about yourself, forget it!"

he swallowed and his eyes watered.

"okay" he said after a while "alright. i-" he sighed, looked somewhere else then closed his eyes "i can't really- i don't-" another sigh "for you, i'll try."

lee know ( 리노 )

this time, after ten minutes spent trying, your facetime call went through.

"well fucking finally minho! why are you-" on your screen, your boyfriend's face appeared. he was getting makeup, a small brush softly highlighting his nose bridge "oh... you're pretty."

minho laughed gently.

"what is it that you want y/n? why'd you even call me seventeen times? can't you tell i'm busy?"

he tried to use that annoyed tone he usually threw your way when you were being clingy. but you could tell he was blushing, something that didn't happen often enough if you had to be honest.

"well damn, calm down with the questions. can't someone want to talk to their pretty boyfriend?"

another laugh, a shy one this time.

"okay, stop that"

"stop what? calling you pretty? well that's what you are. pretty pretty pretty!"

"alright i'm hanging up"

"MINHO NO WAIT."

you had to call him eight more times for him to pick up a second time.

changbin ( 창빈 )

"can you compliment me some more?"

you had just spent the last fifteen minutes telling changbin about how perfect of a man he was. and there he was asking for more? there were only so many compliments in the world. so much so that you had to think about what to say in order to not repeat yourself.

handsome you had used. super witty you went on and on about without forgetting about complimenting his dedication to living a healthy lifestyle and promoting kindness.

but then, it dawned on you. you knew just what to say.

"you're pretty."

changbin furrowed his brows.

"huh?"

"you're pretty" you repeated. "like, you're actually so pretty."

a tentative smile stretched changbin's lips.

"are you sure?" he was shy. changbin brought his hand to the back of his neck and tickled it gently—as if it was the first time anyone ever used the word 'pretty' to describe him.

"i am" you said without hesitation "you are super pretty, changbin. you've got pretty eyes and a pretty nose and pretty lips and pretty cheeks and and and..."

changbin laughed that silly high pitched laugh of his.

"you've got a pretty face overall."

"that's the first time i heard of it." he finally said, too shy to ask for any more compliments.

you mentally took note: in order to shut my changbin up, call him pretty.

hyunjin ( 현진 )

"what did you think the first time you saw me?"

you looked up from your book to lock eyes with his. that came out of nowhere. tilting your head to the side, you furrowed your brows.

"what do you mean?"

"like" hyunjin looked to the left, pondering how to word his question better "what was your first impression? when we first met, what did you think of me?"

"oh." you went back to your book "he's pretty."

hyunjin coughed.

"that's it?"

"did you expect me to think you were hot or cool or whatever? the first time we met you were drenched in soda and asked me for napkins, not very cool nor hot. but you were very pretty, the prettiest man i had ever seen."

a gentle smile stretched his full lips.

"do you mean that or are you being funny?"

you looked at him again, shocked. after marking the page you were at, you closed your book.

"no what do YOU mean? don't play with me hyunjin. you DO know that you're pretty, right?"

he brought his hand to his mouth but, before he could hide it, you saw his slight smirk.

"i mean..." he started.

"oh come on!"

"no like" hyunjin giggled "i'm aware it's just, i didn't think you'd think that of me. pretty? is that really the impression i gave you?"

"well cut me some slack here! you're a crazily pretty man. sometimes i just look at you for fun. for FUN, hyunjin! i am ENTERTAINED, i am having a GREAT TIME looking at your pretty face."

"okay now you don't have to be dramatic about it"

hyunjin was blushing crazily for someone so confident.

han ( 한 )

he was painting his nails and a look of concentration had him furrow his brow and push the tip of his tongue out of his mouth. han wanted to draw stars on each and every single one of his nails and you admired his dedication to the task.

the room smelled of both nail polish and nail polish remover. the coffee table was littered with cotton pads and q-tips drenched in acetone. the smell had your eyes water but you couldn't leave.

han was just so pretty. and you had to tell him.

"hey" you started.

"busy" jisung replied "can't mess up again."

you heard him but, it had to be said.

"you're so pretty right now."

it took him a while, maybe three or five seconds before the words registered. once he pieced it together, he looked up at you.

"huh?"

"i said, you're pretty"

"no i heard you" he started "it's just... really?"

han kept his brush above his fingers so long a droplet of pink polish splashed on his nail, ruining the design, but you didn't have the heart to point it out yet.

"yeah? you're a very pretty guy, jisung. like, your eyes for starters, insanely pretty"

he gave you a shy smile as his cheeks turned pink. you could tell he was trying to tone down his reaction from the way his leg started bouncing.

"no... you're the pretty one." he finally said.

jisung looked down at his nail and shrieked. he was going to have start over, AGAIN.

felix ( 필릭스 )

"you're so pretty"

you weren't expecting to say that out loud but could anyone even blame you? the sun was hitting felix's face in a way that enhanced his freckles along with the gold of his skin. his long eyelashes tickled the skin under his eyes and the bitten red of his mouth made him look ethereal.

felix was, objectively, a very pretty boy.

his eyes fluttered open and your cheeks blushed pink. felix noticed and a playful smile stretched his mouth.

"d'you mean that?" he asked, his voice low and gentle.

you weren't exactly boyfriend and partner yet. you weren't anything really. something in between, something blurry but neither of you dared saying or doing anything about it. you were content with this in-between, for now.

"i do" you started and he brought a hand to your cheek, letting his thumb gently stroke your skin "you're very pretty, felix"

his smile got bigger.

"thanks" he said "you're super pretty yourself."

you swore your heart leapt out of your chest.

seungmin ( 승민 )

"has anyone told you that you were pretty before?"

"plenty of times actually, y/n."

seungmin smiled playfully and you watched him, deadpan.

"i mean," he started "i get it. don't you?"

he giggled and you could only scoff. can't someone compliment their boyfriend and have him react normally in this economy?

"alright mister pretty boy. i guess you've heard it so much it got to your head."

another laugh, a bright one this time and you could not contain your own smile anymore. seungmin had this way of brightening every room he walked in. he always managed to have you in the best mood and make you forget all of your worries.

"oh no y/n... i beg, compliment me again. i only care when it's you that calls me pretty."

it was your turn to act. pretending to be unimpressed, you looked away.

"well. i better be!"

seungmin giggled again. and so did you.

i.n ( 아이엔 )

shopping with jeongin always took hours. you were used to it at this point, but still. your feet were killing you and you had spent far more money than you had planned to.

your boyfriend had a way with compliments afterall. whatever you tried on, he loved and managed to make you love too so, purchased they were!

"how about this one?"

the fitting room's curtain quickly opened and you were met with yet another huge-pair-of-pants-and-oversized-shirt outfit. it was crazy the way jeongin managed to make them work every time.

"pretty" you said "you're pretty."

he smiled and his eyes crinkled.

"pretty?"

"mh mh" you nodded "you look super pretty. you always do but especially right now. crazily pretty, insanely pretty, gorgeously pretty. extremely pretty even. have you considered-"

jeongin cut you off, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. he giggled against your mouth as you kissed back, sending happy shivers down your back.

"okay i think i get it." he said "you're perfectly pretty too"

with that, the curtain closed again.

taglist. after being absent for a long while, i'll make a new taglist instead of using the old one so let me know if you would like to be added / removed.

[sungbeam]

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 💖

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.

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.

“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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

“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.

a/n: pls remember to reblog, comment, and send asks if you enjoyed!

atz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @meosjinn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @floatingpluto @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @soonyoungblr @justanotherkpopstanlol @kangfication @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @haechansbbg @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101 @kflixnet

[amourdivine]

𝐖𝐇𝐎'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅? ઉ   PICK A CARD

Hello lovelies, I hope you're having a wonderful week! This is perhaps the first heavily shadow work focused PAC I bring to you. I'm quite nervous to post this, since I know delivering these messages can be difficult and I don't like taking a harsh, judgmental approach. I hope this reading resonates. As always, feedback is highly appreciated! If you liked this reading, please consider tipping me at @ amourdivinetarot@gmail.com! xo ♡

paid readings are closed as of february 2024

none of the images are mine unless stated otherwise!

pick a card masterlist & information

how to choose your pile.  take a few deep breaths for and look at each and of the piles separately. see which one brings you to a feeling, a place or a memory. take your time and feel free to come back to it later!

amourdivine. 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

୨୧ PILE ONE

who is your shadow self? eight of swords • knight of cups • nine of wands • queen of wands

Your shadow self is the fearful side of you attached to anxiety. The side of you that does not believe you can save yourself from bad situations and feels endlessly hopeless, helpless and trapped. It causes a self-fulfilling prophecy, one where you think you'll inevitably fail, so you self-sabotage (either consciously or not) and end up "proving" yourself right.

However, as helpless as your shadow feels, it never asks for help. It's trapped in a spiral of shame and self-doubt, even self-hatred. All of this happens mentally for most of you, to the point where your body is neglected or stuck in flight / freeze mode. I feel stuck in the gutter, unable to move in the sticky mud. Despite your best efforts to succeed, you may suffer from impostor's syndrome as well, an inability to see your worth, your beauty and your own light. It's almost as if you're scared of your own power, pile one. Very painful, very self-inflicted and something which you may have learn from childhood, maybe you got bullied a lot or were heavily criticized by the people around you. If that happened, I'm so sorry pile one. You deserved so much better. You still do.

how can you work with your shadow self? nine of cups • the sun • queen of swords • queen of wands

You know, when I was entering college, I had a counselor whose words were life changing to me. One day, he picked up a cup full of coffee and asked me: how do you get rid of the coffee, without throwing it out entirely? And I was puzzled. It wasn't possible. Him, in his neverending patience, took me to the water station and started pouring water onto it, until the coffee was cleared away and all that remained was clean, crystal liquid.

Maybe the bad things that happened still haunt you, but they can be drawn out by the good ones. Seek for the light, pile one. Seek the nurturing experiences, the days when you allow yourself to just be, seek the help, the love and stay open to the love. Stay open to the idea that yes, you are worthy, even if you do not feel like it, even if so many people have made you feel otherwise.

These wounds may not fade entirely with time, but you are more than them, always. Always. I know it's never easy to challenge what we've been taught about ourselves, but in order to unlearn all of that, you will have to learn the new things, the true things about you. If they said you were lazy - was that really true? Or were you just tired? You're not "naive", you're pure. You're not "too sensitive", you're in tune with your emotions.

The stories we tell ourselves hold power. What stories are you telling about yourself? Maybe it's time to switch to a new point of view, one where you can rewrite yourself as the person you were never allowed to be.

୨୧ PILE TWO

who is your shadow self? judgement • five of swords • ten of cups • king of wands

Your shadow self is the side of you that thrives in chaos - listen, that's not entirely a bad thing, after all, our shadow reflects something which we need to acknowledge, nurture and work with. However, when you perceive danger or feel threatened, you may turn to harsh words or hurtful actions to avenge yourself.

It can manifest in the form of extreme competitive behavior, the inability to rest, overworking, even maybe envy, jealousy and arrogance sometimes. Now, I'm not here to judge or shame you, you're safe here. I think you have and still feel the need to prove yourself to others, to prove them all wrong. Maybe other people told you that you couldn't do it - and you took it all personally, so personally that it crumbles your self-esteem when someone diminishes your efforts or accomplishments.

Your shadow side craves attention, praise and approval. You want to succeed, to be someone you're proud of, to just never feel insecure, diminished or ignored again. You can also turn possessive with loved ones, wondering if they really love you or if they are lying. There's a lot of skepticism here, too.

how can you work with your shadow self? judgement • ace of pentacles • three of pentacles • eight of swords

Acknowledge your feelings and these insecurities. "Fake it 'till you make it" doesn't always work. Being vulnerable is, ironically, also being strong. Understanding your limitations and allowing for other people to collaborate with you (and vice-versa) will take you even further in life.

Your sense of justice is commendable. Make sure you're using it for justice indeed, and not just vengeance. Your ambition can walk hand in hand with your desire to do good, to make space for everyone else to shine, to open up to others, let them see all of you. No one can love perfection - even if they could, what's there to love about something or someone so perfect that they barely feel human?

It's okay to be scared, to feel insecure, to not shove difficult emotions under the rug. We cannot be at our 100% all the time. And we cannot please everyone, all the time. What you can do is praise yourself, let others praise you when they do and accept it gracefully, making sure you're spreading your warmth and wisdom to others as well. See, I think you have overcome a lot and a lot of people could use your help, either in the form of advice, resources or a shoulder to lean on.

You have leadership potential, pile two. Don't limit yourself by being alone. We were never meant to make it on our own.

୨୧ PILE THREE

who is your shadow self? ace of wands • page of swords • three of cups • king of pentacles

Your shadow self is someone who may indulge in harmful habits out of a need for instant gratification, maybe reckless spending, speed driving, partying everyday or simply not saving up resources and caring about the future. Your shadow self is someone who hates boredom, who craves excitement and cannot fully deal with long-term commitment in its many forms. It wants novelty, adventure and it comes at the cost of your responsibilities, your routine and your friendships even.

This shadow self hates suffering (fair enough, who doesn't?!) and will to go great lengths to avoid it... but ironically, it causes you more pain in the long run by avoiding the unavoidable. By never crying, never addressing your issues or your difficult moments, you end up running right back into yourself and these same issues return.

This side of you doesn't want to grow up - you don't want to fall into the trap of routine and a boring, 9-5 job. But excessive habits are difficult to maintain, no matter how good it feels in the short term. There's a difficult, troubled perception of adulthood and life itself. A need for constant adventure and chaos, a feeling of entrapment whenever you are with anyone who loves you, because you fear being controlled, tamed and used.

how can you work with your shadow self? the tower • nine of wands • nine of cups • three of pentacles

To put it simply, let yourself hurt. Let the foundations of your heart crumble, stop to feel just for a second. You don't have to be on the run all the time. What are you running from, pile three? Disaster, pain and hurt are often inevitable, but they do not have to be the be-all, end-all of our lives. The Tower is a reminder that all that crumbles was meant to crumble eventually, and there is beauty in letting things end naturally, allowing the flow of life to do its thing.

That means aging, growing, learning from the seasons. I think you have a very, very deep heart and mind you're scared to tap into. You're scared to be trapped in the endless hustle, to never feel alive or good once you "settle". But who says the big joys are the only ones that matter? As someone said once, big joys and small joys are often the same. Sometimes, waking up in itself can be an adventure. Don't overlook or underestimate the ways life tries to find you, to cling to you - remember to embark on the hard journeys, knowing you'll have gotten something valuable in the end.

You're brave and rebellious. You can be a catalyst for change in so many ways. Who said adulthood has to be boring? Who said you have to work a 9-5? Do you have to get married? Maybe being a stay-at-home parent isn't for you. That's okay.

Challenging the status quo may not be easy, but you have a natural inclination for it. Your shadow self can dive deeper. It's one of your greatest tools. Your need for joy and fun is not shameful - you can use it for healing, instead of self-destruction.

୨୧ PILE FOUR

who is your shadow self? judgment rx • justice • the high priestess rx • knight of swords

Your shadow self is the side of you that refuses to acknowledge your needs, your wants and desires. It makes you live inside of a bubble, scared of the truth, even if it will set you free. I had the hardest time shuffling for this pile, I kept trying and trying but nothing made sense. I think this is how your shadow side manifests as well, in the lack of clarity, the fogginess that permeates the choices you've regretted.

It's both reckless and frozen, completely lost in a maze, confused, looking for a path, for directions, for anything. It's almost as if you lost your compass, nothing eventually guides you and you remain looking for the directions only you have.

It's too scared to admit what it wants, who you are. Both out of fear of what other people will say, but also out of fear that it'll all go wrong. It's the side of you that remains disconnected from yourself, hidden because it keeps highlighting the aspects you keep trying to ignore, to not know. It can manifest in a lot of ways, either through people-pleasing or being completely reckless. Through lying, denial or even isolation from the world, from life itself.

Something funny is that a song by Bad Suns that just started playing really relates to this pile. "Cinderella slips into a dream like a curse / you could mistake it for heaven at first." This shadow self may live in projection, daydreaming or simply keep you out of touch with everything.

how can you work with your shadow self? six of pentacles • page of wands • two of wands • king of cups

Engagement and socializing are big ways you can work with your shadow self. Being actively curious about the world, about people. Approaching relationships, truths and life itself with genuine interest, no judgement or shaming thoughts involved.

Telling yourself you're an eternal student of this world, because we are and remembering you don't have to know everything. Start scared. Most things, you'll have to do it scared. Unprepared. In the thick of it all, you'll find the answers you need, but only if you are willing to dive deep for them. No taking shortcuts, making assumptions or allowing self-doubt to paralyze your living, because you need to witness life as it is.

Therapy is one big thing, music as well. Anything that connects you to your deepest self, relationships that genuinely make room for who you are, good friends that feel safe and non-judgemental. Your heart has been calling you for so long, pile four. It's about time you listen to it. It knows everything you need to know.

disclaimer. tarot not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i do not take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings. please remember you are responsible for life and in power of it, no one else! ♡

amourdivine. 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

[yok00k]

telepatía

pairing: idol!jk x model!oc

genre: fluff!

“a kilómetros estamos conectando”

—synopsis: when you’re getting ready for a party and jungkook, who’s thousands kilometers away from you, wants to video call.

word count: 1,082

warning: ldr, they’re disguisingly so cute, the word “baby” was said for about 1 million times it’s sickening, different timezones, oc dress in front of jk, mention of insomnia, anxiety, stress, mention of an uncomfy situation of oc where other men were being men, protective jk (this jk is not a manipulator, trust), 1st person pov(im so sorry)

author’s note: my second drabble/fluff!!! this was shorter than I wanted it to be but there will be few (idk how many, it depends to the future me) series of idol!jk x model!oc. <the meaning of ‘mahal ko’ means ‘my love’ in filipino>

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Taking a cold shower after having an intense leg day plus cardio at the gym hits so different. I feel like a brand new person after getting out of my bathroom. I then settle down in front of my vanity table and begin doing my skin care + makeup. As I finished a smooth base of foundation, my phone vibrated.

2 messages received from

mahal ko🐰🤍

|| hey baby

|| can we facetime plz? wanna see u

[10:33 pm]

his text was unanticipated at this hour since it’s 5 am in Korea.

me

|| sure bb

[10:34 pm]

mahal ko wants to facetime

drop everything i have with my hands, i swiftly hit the green button, eagerly to see and hear his voice. we’re mostly texting these days because of having different time zones and working schedules to follow. Oftentimes when he’s free and wants to facetime me, I would be either at work or sleeping and vice versa.

“hi pretty!!” he cheerfully greeted me as my phone screen revealed his cute sleepy face. As usual, he’s wearing one of the eight Supreme beanies i got for him when I was in Tokyo. [side story: i was just strolling in the streets of Harajuku when i found this one clothing store that has a lot of stuffs i know jungkook would like and that’s when i bought those comfy beanies along with other nice things]^_^

“helloo, my ggukie can't sleep?” i asked while finding something i can lean my phone on so that i can continue doing my makeup

“응.. i'm trying to sleep but can’t.“ he simply explained as he placed his phone on the side of his bed, moving his naked body to a more comfortable lying position. His arm filled with cool, artistic tattoos is out and on sight, while his other arm were covered with the thick white comforter, so as his entire body.

“What's been going on in your mind?” I know that something is bothering him at times like this. i get that having the job and lifestyle he has, isn’t merely easy. the pressure, the media, the fans, everything. But although he deals with all these things, I never once heard him complain about them because he knows that that’s what he signed up for the day he chose to pursue being an idol.

“Just been stressed lately with rehearsals and I'm still jet lagged, maybe I have insomnia? ‘m not sure but it’s driving me crazy. now i get what u mean when u say ur body is tired and ready to sleep but ur mind isn’t.” he further describes how he feels. The worry and anxiety is written in his facial expression.

“my poor kookie you could’ve call me earlier and i would help you to fall asleep”

“but you were at the gym. i know you like blasting reggaeton music while working out.” he pouty responds. well, in his defense he’s right. I love that he remembers small details about me but nothing can top my love for him.

“i do that but I prefer listening to my boyfriend’s angelic voice while working out so that i’ll have motivation to do more reps.” replied to him right off the bat. realistically i meant what i said. I usually don’t like talking to people when doing workouts but he is an exception.

I received no words but a soft laugh. He must have thought I was kidding. I took a glance at him before I put lipgloss on[his favorite shade].

i can see him covering the blush he has all over his face. i'm very glad to see him having relief.

‘’Where is my pretty girl up to? hmm?” he curiously asks as i put highlights as my last step to finish up the look

“just going to the club for Sakura’s birthday party, i'm running out of social energy almost every day because of work and parties but I can't miss this event” I explained as I headed over to my walk-in closet.

“hmm ‘kay tell her i said happy birthday. what are you gonna wear?”

“well i'm debating on wearing a black leather mini skirt with this asymmetrical black top and for shoes i have this black knee high boots or i just go with this simple black mini backless dress with these red bottoms high heels” i say as i show him all the clothes. he and I almost have the same taste in fashion. if we were to combine all of our clothes, they are pretty much all black. whenever it’s shoes, jackets, tops, pants, etc. this is why buying clothes for one another isn’t difficult for us.

“What did I tell you about mini skirts bb?” oh. i forgot that he allows me to wear mini skirts unless i’m with him since an incident happened when i was in the club and random guys were making me so uncomfortable by giving disguising lust looks and nastily commenting on my skirts. Although he and I know that no matter what a girl wears, guys in the clubs will act like animals regardless. He told me to not wear it because he’s controlling me but rather because he won’t be there to protect me if something happens.

“ok then the second choice it is” i confirmed, putting the first outfit choice back to where they belong.

“how about you wear that mini skirt when we go on a date? how’s that sound?” he suggests.

“ok then ggukie”

“dress in front of me?” he boyishly asks, using his deep alluring voice. He definitely knows what he’s doing. How can I say no to him?

After dressing, I proceeded to put on the Cartier necklace with his initials in it that he gifted to me when he first came to visit my penthouse in Chicago.

“still have my oversized leather jacket with you?” he inquire before he yawned

“yupp, why?” I curiously asked

“bring it with you please. i don’t want you getting cold in there” he softly requested. him and his simple gestures make me fall in love with him deeper.

“i will baby thank you”

“i love you ___, don’t look at other men” jk murmur jokingly. Well, I hope he said that in a humorous way for the reason that I assure him with my sincere words almost every hour.

“ I love you more gguk i’ll update you ok?” he just hums, waving his hands leisurely to say goodbye.

[sexilene]

can i please request reader going off to collage and not wanting to go and leave rafe, and then he convinces her that its okay not to go and stay with him? if it's a little confusion im sorry!

ive got ya!! xoxo!!! (sorry about any spelling mistakes, im like so beyond sleepy rn idk whyyy!!!!)

"hey baby? where are the suitcases, packed already?” your boyfriend shouts from the hall, wondering where all your stuff that was once out ready to get packed, is gone from where he last saw it.

“uh- almost,” you call back, watching him walk into your room carefully trying not to spill your sleepy time tea in his hand, staring down at the cup until he places it on your nightstand. "did you put em away?-" he begins, before you cut him off,

“ray?”

“yeah?”

“i need to talk to you about something…it’s nothing bad i promise…” your eyes wide and full of an emotion he can't quite place. he stares down at you sitting on the bed, crossing his arms waiting to hear what you've got to say. “okay, what’s up?”

“weeeell, i'm really proud of myself about getting in but i’m still a little nervous about going away…leaving you…” you ramble, avoiding eye contact with rafe. “got separation anxiety?” he laughs, bending down to be at eye level with you.

“don’t joke right now rafe, m’serious!” you whine, going to hide your face in your hands when rafe grabs your wrists ever so gently to direct your attention back on him. “sorry, sorry baby…continue." your boyfriend whispers, softly rubbing the skin on your wrist back and forth with his thumb.

you take a deep breath to keep the tears at bay “i’ve just been thinking about it a lot and i don’t wanna be half away across the country! and of course i know how important college is-”

rafe interrupts you by shrugging and muttering out an “eh,” as if to dismiss the importance of college,

“but…”

“but what, baby?” his eyes innocently looking up at you,

“what if i didn’t go? like i want to, but i don’t and it's all so stressful and i feel like i’m gonna disappoint everyone if i don’t go…” a tear then streaming down your face faster than you can wipe it away to keep him from seeing you cry over this.

your sweet boyfriend's heart twists with every tear that follows, he lets go of your wrists to hold your hands in his much bigger, warmer ones and shushes your fears, “hey- hey okay…just relax a minute kid, if you don’t want to you don’t have to. i say it all the time, can’t fucking wait to put a big ass diamond on this finger. and you won’t gotta worry about anything, cause i promise i’ll take care of you.” he tells you, a smirk on his face, trying his best to reassure you.

“i know but i don’t want to look stupid by being the girl who got into an amazing school but then chose to marry her first boyfriend and stay here!” you realize it's not the nicest thing to say out loud but it is- or would be the truth.

“what’s stupid bout being my little housewife?” rafe furrows his eyebrows, bringing his lips down to kiss every single one of your fingers. “aight listen, i’m so proud of you for getting in and doing the preparation for it but if you feel like your mind has changed that's not a bad thing. im fuckin’ relieved you wanna stay, and if you wanna still go to school there’s always UNC… you’d be closer.” your boyfriend was always very good at reasoning, especially with you. he could calm you in any situation with a couple of wise words and kisses.

“yeah…” you sigh, and wipe your nose with the back of your hand, letting go of his. and sure it's relieving to know that you could always choose to make that decision later, yet the thought in the back of your mind still present, telling you not to end up as another figure eight stepford wife.

and as quickly as the thought crept back into your mind, rafe was able to make it disappear “look, i love you babydoll and im gonna support you as you support me yeah? whatever you want, i'll get it for you you know that... you belong here, with me.” he stands back up again, hands reaching down to wipe the remaining tear droplets on your cheeks gently, to show you he cares ever so much about you and how much he wants to be soft with you- as if you could break like a china doll. “kay, so no tears. did your makeup so pretty today baby...”

your wet lashes sticking together, doe eyes staring up at him with love and admiration. “you’re my best friend ray. i love you, so much my heart hurts.”

“and you're mine, and i love you more than anything ever- and you can sleep on it you know? don't have to make up your mind right here." he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

ᥫ᭡.

[webslingingslasher]

ohhhh j new fear unlocked for everyone

yk how being on your period and leaking in someone’s bed isn’t ideal? esp if they aren’t ur bf? screw the bed - it got on HIM and he’s not my bf. he’s a cuddler in his sleep and pulled me in and I just saw🤠🤠🤠 nightmare. I’m building up the courage to wake him up rn lol. it’s not that deep but this is pretty horrific bc it’s only my second time staying over and we are very much Not Dating

*cleaning out my drafts - this is an old one!

there have been several times in your life when you've said 'this is the worst thing to ever happen to me.' today takes the cake and you'll never have the urge to say those words again.

period blood? a nuisance to deal with.

period blood on your partner? humbling.

period blood on your hookup? downright mortifying and coma inducing.

it'll only get worse the longer you wait. counting to ten, you take a deep breath and gently shake peter awake. he whines and swats you away, you feel terrible that you're about to ruin his sleep.

'peter, i got my period and i leaked.'

peter sucks in air, the words are registering and he's blinking awake while looking you over. 'in my bed?' you nod timidly, feeling awful about it.

'and on you.' it's a defeated whisper, you turn to the side so you don't see his reaction. you feel the blankets lift up, a two second pause before peter settles back into bed.

'i don't have anything to plug you up so you gotta figure it out.' you stare down at his face, he's going back to sleep?

'did you hear me? i leaked.'

peter sighs, he's more upset that you woke him up than being doused in your monthly. 'yeah, like a quarter's worth. it's a dot, trouble. wrap it up and come back to bed.'

'but i got it on you.'

peter huffs before picking his head up and opening an eye to look at you. 'what do you want me to say? do you want me to be mad? you're the only girl in my bed so if you wanna stain the sheets that's on you.'

you stop a smile from forming, 'are you suggesting i did this to mark my territory?'

'it wouldn't surprise me. it also explains the leg.' he tugs his comforter up to his chin while letting sleep coat over him. 'are you cauterized yet?'

'yeah, i stashed some stuff here.' peter searches around for your hand under the blanket by little taps. 'good, cuddle with me.' you almost squeak when he drags you into his side, always impressed by his casual strength.

'are you sure -' you're halfway through your question when peter takes initiative and hitches your knee over his hips. 'i refuse to answer stupid questions before eight am.'

'i'm sorry i stained your sheets.'

peter's dimple pops out when he smiles. 'bloody nice reminder you were here.' you poke it, he peeks an eye open and acts like he's about to bite your finger. 'you're proud of that one?'

'o-h i'm positive.' you gag before hiding in his side and groaning. 'you're not allowed to make dad jokes before eight am.'

'oh yeah? well you're not allowed to bleed... just kidding, trouble. you can expel your moon cycle anywhere you want, what's mine is yours.'

'wow. you're so romantic.'

'only for you.'

he says it like a joke but you think peter would be a whole lot less cool if it was with anyone else. 'thank you for not making me feel bad. you're kind of the best.'

'i know.' you narrow your eyes at him, as if he can sense it, peter nudges his hand under your shirt to splay his hand across your lower back. his warm palm eases tension you weren't aware of yet. 'i was about to say don't get a big head, but your hand feels very nice so i'll refrain.'

'want me to rub your tummy?' you lean forward to press your nose against his cheek. 'say tummy again. it's cute.'

'no.' 

you whine at his refusal, 'i'm shedding my uterus, be nice to me.' peter smiles at your pout. 'tummy.' hiding your face in his neck you let out a quiet squeal. 'i like when you're cringy with me, it makes me feel like you like me.'

you can see how fast his mind is working, he's hesitating on what he's about to say. peter decides to throw you a bone, you're still embarrassed from giving him a wake up call.

'my baby is feeling so icky, isn't she? her tummy and back hurts and she is being so brave.' you nod softly, he's spot on.

'so icky.'

'so brave.'

'say tummy again.'

peter takes a deep breath, 'you're on thin ice, trouble.'

'just one more time. please?' you plead with him and follow it up with a yawn, his hold and heat is making you drowsy. 'if you tell anyone that i asked to rub your tummy or that i said tummy this many times, you'll never hear me say tummy again, deal?'

your eyes seal shut, his warmth is going nowhere. 'deal.' 

[into-the-grey]

~It's Raining, It's Pouring~

Noah x F!Reader fic

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Mild Smut and some Angst

Sometimes, people are just meant to be in each others lives. And sometimes, magic happens.

Warnings: mentions of SH, allusions towards Suicide, allusions towards abusive family, mentions of death, brief smut (theyre both 18 by this point), high school, mental illness, panic attack, divorce, mild jealousy

WC: 13.2k

Taglist: @wh0th3h3llisbucky @blend-in-with-the-madness

RIP my YouTube history, I think I played It’s Raining, It’s Pouring by Anson Seabra for 7 hours straight working on this. Also, the tense probably changes a few times because I never write in second person, I apologise for that, still learning a bit. It might go from past to present tense and back again a few times. This is a new format, and a new way of writing for me, so let's see how it goes.

Fic Masterlist

Alright; ON WITH THE SHOW

Once upon a time, there were two people. Those two people were star-crossed, fated, meant to be. All of the romantic stories could have been about them. It wasn't a grand adventure for him to find her, and he didn't have to save her from a dragon. And she had never been locked in a tower, or forced into slavery by an evil step-mother.

No.

No, it was much simpler than that.

You. You were the one who lived in the house down the street. The house that he rode past every day on his bike when he was young. You were the one he used to see in the neighbourhood, playing with your friends and climbing the tree at the end of the block that all the kids were convinced was a magic wishing tree.

You were the one who came to school with notes in your lunchbox from your mom and knew that you were loved.

And him? He was the kid with the witch for a mom. She wasn't really a witch, but she scared a lot of the kids on the block. She would stand in the street, yelling for him to come home, and if he didn't show up, she'd give up and lock him out for the night. He was the one who came to school with bags under his eyes wearing the same hoodie he'd been wearing for a week.

He was the one who would look at all the kids around him, wishing he could be like you.

You found him in the wishing tree once. That day, you ran down the block, adamant that the tree would help you pass a test in your fourth grade science class. As an adult, you know how stupid you were, but back then it was the most obvious answer.

He was in the tree, high up in it's branches. He huddled in on himself as the cold wind whipped against his skin. He was alone, but his lips moved as tears rolled slowly down his cheeks. His bloodshot eyes fixed on you as you climbed higher, his lips pressing into a thin line as he watched you nervously.

You didn't hesitate for a second.

'Hi,' you said brightly, seeing his pain. You didn't know how to help him, and your eight year old brain couldn't imagine the gravity of his troubles. All you were sure of was that he was there, and he was upset. 'What are you wishing for?'

'Nothing.' His lie was blunt, and his eyes flitted away from you as he sniffed hard against his tears. He drew his heels in under himself as he perched on the thickest branch, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees while he shivered.

'Oh,' you said softly. 'I was going to wish for help on my test tomorrow. It's a science test and I suck at science. But, if you want, I can wish for whatever you were wishing for? It might help to have more than one person wishing for it?'

He scoffed, his deep brown eyes looking you over quickly before returning his hard stare back to his purpling fingers.

'A science test? Why didn't you just study?' he asked, his voice low. His hard shell seemed to crack as he glanced back at you a few times.

'I got distracted,' you admitted. 'A lot. Focussing is kind of hard for me, my mom says I have attention problems, but my dad thinks I'm just making it up to get people to feel sorry for me.' You leaned against a branch, tugging awkwardly at the sleeves of your pale blue hoodie. 'Sometimes my brain goes too fast though, and I can't read or I say stupid things that I don't mean. It's embarrassing.'

'Like offering a wish to a stranger?' he said, a snip in his voice. The words cut through you, stinging as you digested them. Your lip jutted out in a pout as you felt your gut twisting from his insult.

'Yeah,' you nodded sadly 'I guess...'

Your turned dejectedly, wishing silently for the boy to learn some manners, and grabbing the branch to lower yourself down.

'Wait,' he called. Your head snapped back to him, seeing him staring at you. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean it.'

You smiled weakly up at him, and after a brief pause, you made your choice. You scaled the branches and hauled yourself up to his level. As you reached him, you sat on the only other branch that stays steady under your weight, just above him in the dying leaves. The cool breeze rustled through the leaves, a few coming loose and drifting around you while the sky above darkened.

'I'm Y/N,' you said, pulling your hood up to protect you from the chill. Your introduction sounded eager, like you were asking for something. Mentally you kicked yourself, but he seemed receptive.

'I know, I've seen you at school,' he told you, shifting slightly to face you. He chewed the inside of his lip while he wiped his sleeves over his face, trying to erase the traces of his tears. No matter how hard he wiped, there was no way for him to erase the hollow sadness in his eyes. The moment you saw it, you knew there was more to this boy than he let on.

'I've seen you too. You're in Miss Forson's class, right?' you asked. You watched him nod slowly.

'Yeah. My name is Noah. You've probably heard it being yelled down the street enough times...'

'That's your mom, isn't it? The one who stands on the lawn yelling?'

Noah nodded, his cheeks flushing red and hanging his head. He clenched his fists and sniffed again, tears welling in his eyes.

'Yeah, that's her.'

'You're hiding from her, right?' you prodded.

'Yeah,' he said, his voice thick as he swallowed down the pain welling in his chest.

'Do you do that a lot?'

He nodded again, unable to look at you now. Your face fell, watching him picking at his nails and seeing his lip quiver.

'If you want, my mom would probably let you stay at my house? We could play my playstation for a while?' you offered. 'But, you gotta help me with my science test, just for a little while so my mom thinks you're not just there to distract me.' You giggled when you saw the corner of his lips lift into a smile. A sad one, but a smile nonetheless.

'Are you sure?' he asked timidly, looking at you with a glint of hope. 'I'm not really good at science...'

'That's okay, I'm not really good at playstation,' you told him.

A fat raindrop fell through the branches and the leaves, landing smack dab on your head with a pronounced 'plop'. You reached for your hair, feeling the wet spot and giggling more.

More raindrops fell, slowly turning the sidewalk below into a picture of grey polka dots. Noah followed your gaze, seeing the drops colouring in the concrete.

'I guess it's better than being out here in the rain,' he agreed, finally releasing his knees from his vice grip and stretching out to reach the branch below him to begin his descent. You smiled at him, following his lead and dropping off your branch.

Once you were on solid ground and you had a moment, you looked at him. Shaggy brown hair hung in his warm hazel eyes. A light dusting of freckles covered his nose, and a gentle smile lifted his pink lips. He stood only just taller than you, maybe an inch? An inch and a half at most.

You offered him your hand, leading him down the street towards your house. He walked slowly, letting the raindrops fall on the both of you. Normally, you'd run for home to get out of the rain, but something about him made the rain less intimidating. You felt safe with him the moment you saw him in that tree.

What you didn't know was that he felt safe with you too. A stark contrast to how things were at home. Noah had a strained relationship with his mom, and he never told you just how bad things were, but you knew it was worse than he let on.

He found solace in you and your home. Your mom welcomed him in, knowing exactly who he was and who his mom was. Noah's mom was known around the street, and a few of the parents in the neighbourhood were familiar with Noah's hiding spots. They would all keep a quiet eye on him whenever they saw him near their houses, knowing that someone had to.

When you brought him home to your mom, she didn't question anything. The two of you stood on the front doorstep, dripping and cold, and all your mom did was laugh and find you two the biggest fluffiest towels in the house. She brought you inside and found you a change of clothes, letting Noah have one of your oversized pokemon t-shirts and a pair of your dad's old gym shorts.

Your dad wasn't happy about it, but your mom shut him up. Never in front of you or Noah though. She wouldn't dare fight with your dad in front of the two of you, but you didn't miss the pointed glares she would shoot at him over the dinner table when your dad would make a remark.

Noah became a staple in your house, feeling safer there than at home. You liked having him there too, he was a lot smarter than he let on, and he was funny. Plus, he was really good at the playstation, he could help you beat the tougher levels. He even completed Crash Bandicoot for you when you got stuck on the hog riding level. And yes, he helped you with your science test, and you passed.

Some nights, Noah would sneak in through the dog door in the laundry and creep into your room. The first time he did it, it scared the hell out of you, but you got used to it quickly. Those nights were hard. He would wake you up in tears, but he would never tell you why. And when he did, you would simply scooch over and let him into the bed, rubbing his back while he cried himself to sleep.

Your dad would always ask who left the dog door open. Your mom never admitted it, but there were a few nights that you caught her unlocking it before she went to bed.

You two grew up together. Joined at the hip, you went everywhere together, did everything together...

And then high school happened. The first year was supposed to be exciting, you were meant to be enjoying life and all the perks that came with being high schoolers. Instead, your parents got a divorce.

Noah held you while you cried, fearing that your dad would try and make you move to Topeka with him. He mourned the breaking apart of your family with you, and he kept you distracted by playing video games with you or by hiding in the wishing tree with you.

Your mom gave him a key to the house the day your dad moved out, telling him he didn't need to sneak through the dog door anymore. He hugged your mom, unable to find the words to thank her. She even cleared out your dad's study and turned it into a bedroom for him.

Then came the awkward "talk". Your mom sat you down on the couch one day when Noah wasn't there, telling you that while she understood you two were close, that sex is a big deal and if you're not ready, then you can always tell him no.

She didn't judge, but she taught you all about protection, and asked that you wait until you were sure.

You laughed at her, telling her that there was no way you'd ever have sex with Noah. He was your best friend, and you told her you didn't feel that way about him. She just smirked at you, nodding and saying 'okay.'

But when you went to bed that night, you couldn't help thinking about it. You felt weird as you laid in your bed, staring at the ceiling with the images of Noah on top of you flashing through your mind.

Maybe you did feel that way, but you would never dare tell him.

That night, when Noah crept into your room, you comforted him and you felt butterflies as you held him. Silently, you cursed your mother for making you think about him that way, but you didn't let on that anything had changed.

At school, you joined music class with Noah, and he found something in himself. You watched him beam whenever he touched a keyboard or picked up a guitar. Lyrics seemed to flow from him like a fountain. He was magical.

You wished you were as good as him. But through music, he found his friend Nick. Nick was nice, and he hung out with you guys at lunch, but at the end of the day, Noah would come home to you. You tried to like Nick, but you couldn't help that teenage bubble of jealousy as he and Noah bonded over something that you just couldn't do.

And then Noah left. He just stopped coming to school.

The first day, you texted him and asked him where he was. He was blunt, telling you he wasn't coming. You assumed that he was just sick, or skipping for the day. But one day turned into two. Two became three. Three became a week. A week became a month.

After that, you knew to just let him sleep when you got up in the mornings. At least he was still in your room, still with you.

He got a job to fill his days, working at Nick's family's tattoo studio. Noah wasn't the art type, he couldn't really draw, so he never picked up a tattoo gun, but the money wasn't bad. He would bring you little trinkets and gifts sometimes. He even saved up to buy himself a car. It was an absolute piece of shit, but it ran, it got good gas mileage, and it had a stereo.

Then came the nights where you would drive around aimlessly, discovering more and more of Richmond as you belted out the words to any song you knew. Sometimes Nick would come with you, but you liked it better when it was just you and Noah.

He was growing up, and you loved seeing who he was becoming. He was still the awkward introverted boy you knew, but he was blossoming into a musician. Your mom even bought him a guitar one christmas, making him cry. Because he could finally practice again, he found his way into a cover band. You were their number one fan, and your mom was a close second. She cheered him on in any way she could.

You kept going to school though. You didn't have a choice, you weren't good enough at anything to take the creative path. Every day you wished Noah was there, but you did your best without him. Class was harder without him. It had been years of the two of you side by side, Noah helping you to understand the questions that didn't make sense to you. He would even read the questions aloud to you if you needed it. Now, your grades were slipping. You didn't have your support system, and no one else seemed to believe that it was that hard.

He would help with your homework, but it was getting harder. He'd never learned the subject matter, so he could only do so much. You'd let him read your textbooks, but sometimes neither of you understood what the hell the textbooks were talking about.

One night, a particular project had overstressed you. He held you while you cried, running his fingers through your hair while you tried to compose yourself.

'I can't fucking do this,' you choked, your arms around him while he rested his chin on your head. When did he get so tall?

'You can, it's just your brain,' he shushed you, his voice soft and his arms strong as he held you together. 'There's too much going on in there, isn't there?'

'There always is, you know that,' you told him, letting him sit you down on the side of your bed.

'And what do we normally do about it?' he asked gently, holding your hands and squeezing lightly. As he sat in front of you, you found yourself staring at him, your mouth hanging open while you panted through the tears.

He had the beginnings of a sleeve colouring his arm, the ink peeking out under his three-quarter sleeves. A shiny dermal piercing sat in his cheek, glinting under the low light of your bedside lamp. His warm brown hair hung down almost to his chest, always a layered mess.

But his eyes, those warm brown eyes. They were still the eyes of that boy from so many years ago, searching for comfort in yours. Offering you comfort with him. In them, you could see how much your pain hurt him, and how hard he tried to hide it.

'I don't know if can talk about it,' you whimpered, your gaze shifting to his hands. His long, slender fingers, wrapped up in your shorter, pinker ones. His thumb grazed over your knuckle supportively.

'There's nothing you can't tell me,' he said, both gently and firmly. 'What's different now?'

'Everything.'

'Y/N...' he whispered, shuffling closer. His hands ran gingerly up your arms, and you couldn't help flinching. You closed your eyes, holding your breath as heavy tears blurred your vision. You were thankful, you didn't want to see the pain in his eyes as realisation dawned on him.

'Why?' he asked. You knew he knew. It had been a while since you'd done that. You'd been clean since your dad gave up on trying to move you to Topeka. You hadn't needed it...

But school, the projects, the frustration of your brain not working right...

You hadn't felt good enough in a long time. Like something in you was broken. And even though you could normally talk to Noah about these things, Noah had found his people. He found his thing, the thing he was good at. You didn't have that. You were convinced he wouldn't understand anymore.

'I'm not right. I can't do the things everyone else can do,' you whispered. 'My grades are going to shit, and everyone thinks I'm just being lazy, but I just can't fucking do it. No one believes me-' you tell him, crumpling in on yourself as your voice breaks. 'I'm fucking def-fective,' you coughed.

Noah grabbed you, pulling you into his chest and holding you tightly, whispering into your ear.

'You are not defective. You are not lazy, or broken, or any of that bullshit. It's not your fault,' he told you, swaying you back and forth in his grip while he buried his nose in your hair.

'I-' you tried to start, but he shushes you, knowing whatever you were going to say would be negative.

'No, you are the kindest, smartest, most hard-working person I know,' he told you. 'You care so fucking much about other people. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here, that's for sure. It's not your fault that you can't always figure out what the fuck those textbooks say. They're stupid fucking books anyway, written by snooty old guys with nothing better to do than write rules about how numbers should work or brag about how war is great when you win one.'

'Noah-'

'Nope, I'm not done,' he stopped you. 'You don't need to think like them. You think like you, and the way you think is magical. You are so special, and that's what matters. You might not be great at science or math, but you make the most amazing paintings I've ever seen. You write the best stories, and you sing better than half the guys who auditioned for my band. Don't you ever doubt yourself, okay?'

His arms lock tighter around you as his voice hitches in his throat. You nod against him, your arms around his narrow chest. His width had yet to catch up to his height, he was still skinny as anything, but he still gave fantastic hugs.

'I'm sorry-' you try to say, but again, he stops you.

'You. Are. Incredible,' he tells you, punctuating each word as he finds your face and looks at your bloodshot and puffy eyes. 'And you are everything to me, got it? Please, don't ever take yourself away from me like that. I care about you way too much to lose you to that.'

You nod, releasing an arm and wiping your face with your sleeve.

'Y/N,' he breathes, 'I mean it. Please, don't go anywhere.'

Your heart breaks as his firm voice slips, instead pleading with you now.

'I promise,' you tell him, swallowing hard past the lump in your throat. 'I care about you too much to leave you behind.'

'Good.'

Pulling you back into a tight hug, he doesn't tell you that he meant more with those words than you understood. He had for a while. And so had you. Both of you caught in the limbo of what you each thought were unrequited feelings, and neither one of you brave enough to tell the other about the butterflies in your bellies. Neither of you dared to speak the three words that your hearts yearned to say.

I care about you?

No.

I love you.

More than life itself.

Noah made a point to be around a lot more after that night. Sure, he was always around, but he slept in your bed a lot more after that. He watched as your long sleeves became tank tops, always checking to make sure the scars stayed scars.

He even offered to get Nick to tattoo you to cover them up, going as far as asking your mom if she would let you. To your dismay, your mom was against that idea. She let you get away with a lot, but an underage tattoo was toeing the line.

It didn't stop you from getting a tattoo though. It just meant you put it somewhere your mom wouldn't see it. You got Nick to tattoo it on the front of your hip, somewhere even a bikini would cover it.

A little tree, just like the one at the end of the block. Noah held your hand while the needle dragged across your skin, the bony parts hurting the worst. Nick chuckled while you squeezed your eyes shut tight and grimaced at the worst of it.

Finally, senior year rolled around. The best and worst year of your life.

Finally, someone believed you. At school, there was a new counsellor. She recognised something in you that no one else had. You called Noah the second she told you about the letters that changed your life.

ADHD.

That's why you had been struggling so much. That's why things never made sense the first time. Noah celebrated with you when you got home that afternoon, and he went with you to talk to your mom about it.

Your mom was just as excited for you to have an answer, agreeing to help you seek treatment. She couldn't get on the phone to your doctor fast enough. Finally, something made sense. A chance at normalcy...

Noah took you for a drive that night, the two of you sitting in the front seat of the car and screaming along to all the songs on your shared playlist. He drove you out to a lookout and the two of you watched the stars, talking about how different things could be.

He told you about his side project from his cover band, Man Vs Self. He was excited about it, and Nick was getting involved too, and Vincent. You weren't completely familiar with Vincent, but from the few encounters you'd had with him, he seemed nice enough.

He showed you some of the things he was working on for the band, and you had to admit, it was good. Not that you expected any less from him. Noah couldn't make something bad if he tried, it's like it was against his nature.

While you two sat there, you googled everything you could about ADHD, learning more about how your brain worked. A part of you mourned how your life could have been if you had been diagnosed earlier. Things could have been so different, so much easier..

But without the struggle, you never would have found Noah. And you wouldn't change that for the world, and neither would he.

If only things could be so simple forever.

But time marches ever onward, and life goes on.

Noah's band picked up. And after a while, you noticed him withdraw. There was something there, something he didn't want to tell you. Whenever you asked him what was bothering him, he would shy away from the topic, trying to change it quickly.

After a few weeks of pushing, you finally got the answer. He was leaving.

He cried as he told you, telling you he had been seriously considering backing out so he could stay with you. Knowing how much you needed him, it was killing him to choose between making this demo in Jersey or staying with you.

So you chose for him. You told him to go. You told him how much he would hate himself if he didn't try; that if he didn't go for it, he'd never know how far he could go.

You asked him how much time you had left. He told you that you had a month, and that he had no idea what would happen after. For that month, he worked his ass off on that demo, doing everything he could to have it ready to record, but he spent every night with you, promising you that this wasn't goodbye.

The night before he left, the two of you sat in the wishing tree and talked all night. He carved your names into the branches that you'd been sitting on when you met. He held your hand tightly, promising you that he'd come back.

And then he left. You and your mom stood on the driveway, sending him off with a bag of snacks and the tightest hug the two of you had ever shared before your mom came in with a group hug. She told Noah that she was proud of him, a phrase that brought tears to his eyes.

As he drove away in that cramped car, your mom kept her arm around you. The pair of you waved goodbye, watching him disappear down the road. You were thankful he didn't see the tears in your eyes as he disappeared around the corner.

Your mom held you together while you cried for most of the day. And that night, you snuck down to the wishing tree. You scaled its branches, climbing to the high branch that you sat on the day you met Noah and pulling your knees into your chest.

Silently, you whispered to the universe, making yet another wish.

You wished for his success, for him to be brave, and to push through anything this industry could throw at him. But most of all, you wished for him to come back.

Weeks passed, and the end of the school year drew closer. Promposals were exchanged at school, but no one asked you. Your friends all had dates, while you debated if you even wanted to go.

You told Noah as much on one of your nightly calls. You had fallen into a rhythm with him, waiting for him to call you when he was going to bed. Sometimes you had to call him, now that you had a job to fill your time.

It wasn't much, just stacking shelves at the local record store, but it paid better than fast food or waiting tables did.

As prom drew closer, you found Noah egging you to go. He even dared you once. You knew you couldn't say no to a dare, and your mom was more than willing to take you dress shopping.

She found you a beautiful dress, and it cost a small fortune, but she was adamant that you needed to go. Something about a 'rite of passage for a young woman' and 'regretting if you don't go.'

So you did. You went to prom, alone, in your beautiful forest green dress. The colour of the leaves on the wishing tree. And you hated every second of it. You stood in the back of the room, watching all the couples slow dancing while you sipped at a plastic cup of spiked punch.

Until a hand graced your arm.

'Care to dance?' he asked you. You turned, hope blooming in your chest.

But it wasn't him. It was someone else, Jacob? Joshua? You never learned this guy's name. He was a theatre kid with cropped black hair and too-tight skinny jeans. Sure, he was nice, but it wasn't Noah.

So you shook your head.

'Thanks, but I'm good. I was thinking I might head off.'

He just nodded at you, wandering off in search of a different dance partner.

And you did. You left, wandering out of the school gym and through the halls. You didn't cry, even though you really wanted to. You kicked your heels off and scooped them up as you walked through the quiet halls, the music echoing behind you as it seemed to taunt you.

Outside, the cool night air sunk into your skin, a welcome change from the stuffy air of the gym.

You were about to shortcut across the grass to get to the parking lot where you had parked the car. Your mom had loaned you hers for the evening, and you figured if she thought you were out for the night, she wouldn't mind if you went for a drive, as long as you put gas in it before returning it.

A car came careening into the lot as you stepped onto the wet lawn, grass sticking to your bare feet as you moved. The car came to a stop, and the engine silenced. His voice rang out across the parking lot, your head snapping over to him the moment you heard it.

Noah.

He slammed the car door, running over to you as fast as he could. Your heart stopped as you looked at him. He was dressed in a white button down with the sleeves rolled up, a black vest, and a skinny tie hanging from his neck.

You grinned, tears pricking at your eyes as you ran at him, throwing your shoes on the ground. You threw your arms around him and sank into his grip, feeling him hold you like his life depended on it.

'Were you leaving?' he asked as he squeezed you tightly, a hint of a laugh in his voice.

'I didn't have anyone to dance with,' you told him with a shrug. 'Plus, it's kinda crap in there, the music isn't even that good. You came a long way for nothing,' you joked.

'Definitely not nothing,' he told you, pulling back and looking down at you. You missed his eyes, and the way he smiled at you. Your heart fluttered as he grinned down at you.

'Oh?' you asked him, 'so what really made you come back? If the renowned draw of prom night sex wasn't the reason, it must be really good.'

He smirked as you teased him.

'Well, there's this girl I really like, and while I was gone the guys told me I should really talk to her and tell her how I feel about her. They had a point, so I was kind of hoping you could help me out with that?' He asked nervously.

You could feel his hands trembling as he laced his fingers with yours. You didn't dare let your smile falter. He couldn't know how much your heart was breaking at the idea of there being someone else.

'I mean, I can... but you've gotta tell me who she is before I can help,' you said, trying to keep that teasing tone in your voice.

Noah shook his head, chewing the inside of his lip nervously.

'She's probably the kindest, sweetest, funniest girl I've ever met. Y/N, I think I'm in love with her, I've just been too scared to tell her because I didn't want to lose her.'

'Noah-' you breathed, stepping back. You wanted so desperately to be right, but you needed to hear it from him. You watched as he took a deep breath, locking his eyes on yours.

'I love you, Y/N. So much.' he finally said, pulling you back to him and lifting his hand to your cheek. Your breath hitched in your throat at his touch.

All those nights of picturing what it could be like, the tingles at his touch, the thoughts you had tried to squash, it all came flooding forward. There was no denying it now. You were desperately in love with him too, and you didn't need to hide it anymore. The butterflies were free, no longer being squashed down and digested. You felt like you could float as he drew nearer.

Your breath quickened, your hand running up his chest and resting over his heart. You could feel it hammering beneath your fingers as you smiled up at him. In his eyes, you could see his fear while he hung on every breath, waiting for your answer.

'I love you, Noah. You have no idea how much I love you.'

A relieved laugh left his lips, and he leaned in. His lips brushed yours. At first it was tender, learning how you felt, how you kissed. After a moment, the kiss became confident, your arm wrapped around his neck while his hand rested on your lower back, holding you to him.

His taste intoxicated you, and in seconds he became the addiction you knew you would never be able to break. He felt the same. He knew he would never be the same, in that moment you became his air.

A hissing sound broke you apart, and the pair of you looked around. You were still alone, and there were no obvious signs of where the noise was coming from.

Until the sprinklers started, the cold mist spraying over both of you. You squealed, jumping in his grip and feeling him pull you in tight against his chest as the two of you cried out.

He was the first to laugh, and you followed close behind. You had met in the rain, it was only right that you confessed your love for each other the same way, even if the rain wasn't real.

'My shoes!' you cried out, looking behind you to where your heels glinted under the haze of mist.

'I got it!' he told you, releasing you and running through the brunt of the spray. You couldn't help but laugh as his hair deflated while he scrambled across the slick grass, grabbing for the shoes.

He scooped them up and turned to run back to you, but you had other plans. Instead, as he turned, he crashed into your drenched form and his arms wrapped around you again.

Your lips crashed to his, putting all the feeling you had been holding back for years into the kiss. He kissed you just as passionately, and both of you giggled as the water soaked you both to the bone.

'When I said you're everything to me, I meant it,' he told you, his forehead resting on yours as he smiled at you.

'I wish I had said something before you left,' you said, letting him sway you gently.

'So do I. But, we're here now, and that's all that matters.'

'We should probably go and clean ourselves up though. My mom will kill me if I catch a cold from running around in the sprinklers.'

Noah chuckled, kissing you again before finally releasing you. He took your hand, leading you through the water and over to the car.

'I'll meet you at home? I have to take mom's car back.'

'Okay, but after that, I have somewhere I wanna take you, if you're up for it?'

You agreed, parting with a kiss and practically floating back to your mom's car.

The drive home was agonising, and the lights were all off when you got there. Your mom had gone to bed, expecting you to be out late. You entered the house quietly, tiptoeing across the tiles.

You left the keys on the kitchen counter, grabbing a change of clothes from a basket in the laundry and the two towels from all those years ago. They didn't seem as big or as fluffy anymore, but your mom had embroidered your names into them for you. She knew an origin story when she saw one, and she was sentimental, so naturally, she took it upon herself to hold onto memories for you.

You met Noah outside, clambering into his car and handing him the towel. He grinned like a little kid when he saw it, remembering everything with you.

He wrapped the towel around his shoulders before setting off. The whole drive, all you did was talk. He told you about the demo, you told him about work and school, everything felt so normal. Normal, except for the buzz of adrenaline in the pit of your stomach, the cool rush that you felt every time he took your hand in his, kissing your knuckles.

After a while, he pulled into the parking lot of a hotel, grinning as he turned the car off.

'I figured that most people have some kind of after-party, why shouldn't we have our own?' He said, a sheepish grin on his face.

You laughed, shaking your head at him. He lead you from the car and through the hotel, the two of you looking dreadfully out of place in the gilded lobby in your drenched clothes and fuzzy towels. The concierge even giggled quietly as she watched you get in the elevator.

The room itself was fancier than any hotel you'd ever stayed in, and you wondered how he paid for it. You didn't ask, deciding to just enjoy it. As soon as the door closed, Noah tugged you close to him again, gazing down into his eyes with the sweetest smile on his face. If he kept looking at you like that, you knew you could die happy.

'Say it again?' You asked him quietly, your lips hovering just in front of his.

With a soft chuckle, he happily obliged. 'I love you, Y/N.'

'I love you,' you whispered, letting the space between you disappear again.

He was gentle when he stripped the dress off of you, draping it over a chair to let it dry. You were just as gentle about unbuttoning his vest and his shirt. Together you found your way to the shower, letting the warm water erase the chill from your bones.

Being naked in front of him felt strange, but his tender kisses made it easier. For a while, you stood under the water, wrapped in his embrace. Your head tucked perfectly under his chin, and every now and again he would nose into your hair, leaving feather-light kisses on the skin of your neck. If the water hadn't gone cold, you might have stayed there forever.

He wrapped you in your towel before finding his own. Your heart pounded as you watched him, looking over his growing collection of tattoos and the scars on his back. He caught you watching, and stepped closer to you with a look in his eye.

He reached for you, his fingers running over the scars on your bicep. Together, you were beautifully broken, and together you could build a whole new type of perfect. As you stepped into his embrace, you felt safe. You felt loved. You felt whole.

You were the one who lead him to the bedroom.

He was just as nervous, and both of you giggled as the towels came off. Neither of you had done this before, but it felt right to be doing it with each other.

You paid heed to your mother's warning, thankful to be on the pill, and you were sure you were ready.

He laid you down on the bed, and Noah positioned himself between your legs, slowly pushing himself into you, groaning as he felt your body accept him.

You breathed through the feeling, a sting burning through you as he froze in place and waited for your signal.

'You okay?' He asked as he saw your face screw up in discomfort.

'Mhmm,' you hummed, 'just getting used to it.'

'For what it's worth, you feel so much better than I ever imagined,' he breathed, kissing your collarbone and up your neck. His words reverberated through you, making you clench around him.

He smirked, taking your face in his hand. 'You like dirty talk?' He asked, surprised and fascinated to learn about what turned you on.

'A little,' you admitted as you held his bicep.

'So if I said something like...' he smirked, dipping low and hovering his lips just next to your ear, his voice barely a whisper, 'you're mine. Only mine. This pussy? It's mine, and I won't stop until you're out of breath and the neighbours know my name.'

He grinned, sucking in a sharp breath and feeling your muscles contract around him, lusciously squeezing him.

'You're so tight, baby, and so wet. Is this all because of me?'

You couldn't help the soft moan as he spoke, beginning to roll his hips against you. The feeling was heavenly despite the stretching feeling. You'd been warned that the first time could hurt, and it was easily bearable.

'Noah,' you whimpered, running your fingers across his skin.

'Does it feel good, baby? God, you feel so good,' he continued, rutting into you slowly. His thrusts were firm, exploring deeper than you'd ever been able to with your fingers.

You dragged his face back to yours, kissing him deeply. Noah happily followed your lead, letting you swipe your tongue over his as you moaned into his mouth.

'Fuck,' you hissed, your back arching. You wanted more, but you were too scared to show him what you needed. You didn't want him to feel inadequate, or think he was doing something wrong, but your clitoris screamed for attention. Your hand kept inching lower, but you couldn't help the anxiety in your stomach.

'Tell me, baby,' he purred, always able to read you. 'Show me.' He took your hand, guiding it between your bodies and resting his fingers atop yours.

You began to draw timid circles over the little nub, feeling Noah trace your movements to learn how you liked it.

You whined his name, and you felt his dick twitch inside you.

'Noah, please,' you begged, 'I think I'm close.'

'Me too, Y/N,' he panted, his cheeks red and his forehead slick with sweat. 'I want to watch you come. I wanna see how good I can be to you.'

The tingles started small, but the more you circled your clitoris, the stronger it became. Whines and groans left your lips, Noah mirroring the sounds.

His gasps were almost enough to have you, but what broke you was the way he said your name. His breathy cries for you as he sped up and reached his peak, sighing and closing his eyes while your body tensed around his.

He emptied himself into you, and you eked it out of him. You'd heard that it was rare to experience an orgasm during your first time, let alone a mutual one, but it happened, and it was so much better than using your fingers.

Noah laid on top of you, breathless. His eyes fluttered closed while he gasped for air, his panting tickling your nipple as he laid his head on your chest.

'I love you,' he told you between deep lungfuls of air.

'I love you,' you repeated, grinning and exhausted, running your fingers through his still wet hair.

If only that night could have lasted forever.

Fate was cruel like that. Fate, and Sumerian Records.

Man vs Self, then called CHLDRN got signed, becoming Bad Omens... You were ecstatic, celebrating with him and Nick and Vincent. Part of you was less thrilled, knowing this meant he would be gone again.

He promised you it wouldn't be for long, only a few weeks at a time. You believed him. But weeks didn't stay weeks.

Weeks became months, and months became moving to LA.

He promised you that he would come home and visit. He swore to you that he would pay to fly you out and you could stay with him. He would text you every day and call you every night, telling you how much he missed you and how much he loved you.

No matter how much you wanted it to be, nightly phone calls and texting weren't enough. Every time it rained, your heart ached for him. You missed his touch, his embrace.

And then the contact started to wane. You would lie awake, waiting for him to call or text you after a show, and some nights he would, but those nights grew further apart.

You would text him first, and you'd be left with no answer.

Your mom watched your heart break in real time. She understood the pain, and she missed Noah too. She felt like she had lost her son. She did all she could to help you cope, but you just felt hollow, like barely a shell of yourself.

Every now and again you would hear from him, and it would tear open that wound again. Finally, you had to call it what it was.

Dead.

You called him, knowing that this phone call would be the hardest call you'd ever had to make. You told him that no matter how much you loved him, you couldn't handle the heartache. His home wasn't with you anymore, and you couldn't have a home with him. Not right now.

He begged you to reconsider. He told you he'd throw it all away for you. You told him he was being stupid, and that he would never throw it all away, and if he did, he'd miss it too much. He'd regret it. Sure, the words sounded pretty, but he would never be able to walk away. Not fully. Nor would you ever want him to.

You told him that he was too talented and too good to walk away. He needed to stick with the band. So he did. And he hated it for a while. He wrote songs about how much he hated it, but none of those ever made the albums.

Well, one did.

It was embellished, sure, but you knew which lines were about you. And you hoped against hope that no matter how much he wanted to, that he wasn't watching you from afar. You knew his heart couldn't take that strain. He'd already been through so much. He needed to move on and live for himself now.

You found yourself in the tree one night, wishing he would be okay. You never wished for yourself anymore, but any wish you could make for him, he had it. Success, stability, love, you wanted it all for him. You could make do on your own.

So you did. It killed you when his name came up on your socials, seeing the articles about the band, and about him. You missed him more than anything. But you forced yourself to continue on with your life. The ADHD medication made it easier to function, so when you decided to go to university, you managed it a lot easier than you thought you would.

There were still nights that you wished he was there to read the questions to you. Or nights that you broke down in tears because the pressure was too much. Every time you reached the end of that rope, you remembered your promise to him, and you stepped away from the medicine cabinet.

Noah came to town once. His long hair had been cropped short, and his once spindly build had filled out. You thought about going to the show, but you couldn't bring yourself to go. Your mom even asked if you should go together, but you told her that if you did you'd only have to start the healing process over again. She was understanding, but you knew she wanted to go. She missed him too, after all.

More time passed, whizzing by in a blur of study, work, and long nights. Your mom watched your heart heal and break again every time his name was mentioned on the radio or in a news article.

One night, she sat you down on the couch like she had that night she gave you the "talk". Her skin had begun to sag, and her hair was greying, but you still saw the same look in her eye. That knowing look, the one that knew all your secrets.

'Y/N, honey, you've got to do something. You're not getting over him,' she told you. 'It's been almost two years.'

'I know,' you told her pathetically, curling into her side like a child. She rubbed your arm, comforting you.

'I have an idea that I wanted to run by you,' she said, her tone soft and warm. 'I'm almost ready to retire, and I think I want to retire somewhere sunny. I like the rain, but I'm ready for something new...'

You looked at her, an eyebrow cocked as you caught that mischeivous smirk on her lips.

'Mom...' you said slowly.

'I found a nice house, and with what this place is worth, we could easily afford it if we sell. You're almost finished with school, and there's plenty of job options for you-'

'And you want to move to LA?' you asked her incredulously, sitting up and searching her face for a hint of a joke. You found none. She was completely serious. 'Mom, this isn't some small move down the street, you're talking about moving across the country.'

She nodded, laughing at you. 'I know, sweetheart. But I mean it. I want something new, I've lived in this house for too long. I know it's your home, but once upon a time, it was mine and your father's. We bought it shortly after we got married, and there are days that I still expect to see him sitting on the couch when I get home from work. I still feel like he's here, even though he's been gone for so long. I need to move on from him, and I don't think I can do that here.'

You chewed your lip, looking at your hands. Sometimes it was easy to forget that your mom was a person too. She had her own life, her own story, her own feelings. It had been a long time since your dad left, and it was easy enough to forget that your mom had spent nearly twenty years with him. He was her Noah. Sure, in the end, he turned out to be an uncaring ass, but there had to be something there that she'd loved in the start, and now she couldn't let go of it. Just like you couldn't let go of Noah.

'Okay,' you told her. 'Show me this house?'

She did. She showed you the house, and it was perfect. A quaint little three bedroom townhouse in a quiet community, a thirty minute drive from the city. You fell in love with it the minute you saw it.

Things moved quickly after that night. Your mom put the house on the market, and when you weren't working or studying, you were packing. You found so many memories as you boxed up everything you owned. It didn't take long for the house to sell. It wasn't until the sold sign adorned your front yard that it finally sank in.

You were saying goodbye to your childhood.

The place looked strange without all your things in it. You remembered all of the nights you spent with Noah in your room, whispering about stupid things to make each other laugh. You remembered the sound of his guitar drifting from the room that was once his, even though he almost never slept in there. You had to patch the hole in the wall from when you had tried to slide down the hall in your socks and you slipped, coming crashing down through the plaster.

You remembered sitting around the dinner table, telling your dad about the picture you had drawn at school that day. Or showing off how much better your grades had gotten since Noah started to help you with your homework.

Most painful of all, you had to say goodbye to the tree.

For old times sake, you hauled yourself up into its branches, searching for the carving of your names on the trunk. You had labelled your branches, but after the night in the hotel, Noah joined your names in a heart on the trunk where the two branches met.

For the last time, you made a wish. You weren't sure you believed in it anymore, but that childish wonder in your heart refused to let go of the possibility. You whispered your wish, letting it go with the wind that rustled the leaves.

And then the frenzy began. The movers took all the boxes, packing them into a huge truck with all your furniture, and you got in the car. You told your mom to fly ahead, not wanting her to drive across the country. She was too easily worn out for such an adventure, and there was too much to do, you needed her to save her energy for unpacking and setting up.

So you drove across the country alone, just you and your mom's car. You sold the beater you had bought with your money from the record store. It wasn't going to make the trip, and you could find something better when you had a new job.

You stopped at motels, sleeping more fitfully the closer you got to LA. Your mind spun with possibilities. What would you do? Would you call him? Text him? Would you even reach out?

What if he had a new girlfriend? What if he hated you for ending things? What if he wasn't your Noah anymore?

Each night you tossed and turned, and each day you tried desperately to drown out the noise in your mind with music and podcasts. Finally, after nearly a week of non-stop driving and gas station sandwiches, you reached the exit for Los Angeles. Your new home.

You followed the GPS to your new house, seeing your mom outside with the moving truck. She was helping to take boxes into the house, even though the movers brought the couch in first for her to sit down. She insisted on helping, but that was what your mom was like.

You parked on the street, getting out of the car and stretching your weary legs. Who would have thought sitting still for so long would be so exhausting. The sun had started to dip in the sky, bathing the street in a warm golden glow. You took in your new surroundings for a moment, noting the difference in the smell of the air, the warm breeze, and the lack of trees. There were only a few trees in the street, most of them small. One house had a large tree in the front yard, and it reminded you of the wishing tree. Smiling to yourself, you were glad something felt like home.

Your mom had told the movers to put your bed in first, which you were thankful for. You made your way to your new room, stretching out on the unmade mattress and letting your spine decompress for a little while.

It took a couple of weeks to set up the house how you wanted it, and it took a few more weeks to find a job, but soon enough, you were an official LA working girl. You had a desk job, you paid stupid amounts of money to park fifteen minutes away from your office, and you thrived on coffee, but you were doing it. You were living.

You still hadn't called him. You wanted to, but fear got the better of you every time you typed in his number. Your thumb would hover over the green button for stupid amounts of time, and then you would lock your phone and put it down.

You never thought it would go the way it did.

You came home from work one cloudy afternoon, climbing out of your mom's car and heading to the mailbox. A cool breeze nipped at your arms while you sifted through the mail. While you sorted the bills from the junk, a large black pickup pulled into the street. It was the first time you had seen it move since you moved in. For the last month it had been stationary on a driveway a few doors down.

It crawled past your house, slowing down as it passed by. For a moment, you tensed, ready to run or fight, whatever you needed to do, but then it moved on. It rolled into the driveway you had become accustomed to seeing it at, the house with the large tree in the front yard.

The loud rumble of the engine ceased, and as you were about to turn and head inside, a voice called out to you.

'Y/N!?' the deep voice bellowed, echoing down the street.

You froze.

His footsteps approached, his sneakers pouding against the asphalt as he crossed the street and stepped closer.

'Y/N...' he breathed, stopping a few feet away from you.

You looked up at him with your heart in your throat. His hair was still short, but it had grown out since you last saw him. A hint of stubble graced his chin and his lip, making him look so much more grown up than the weedy little teenager you remembered from prom. And his muscles...

He truly was a man now.

'Noah,' you whispered, your voice gone as you stared at him in disbelief.

He seemed to be having the same problem, stammering as he inched closer to you. 'You're... you're here?' he asked, his tone bewildered, asking the how and why without the need to say them.

'Mom retired, she wanted to get away from the memories of dad,' you told him with a shrug. You could barely bring yourself to meet his eye. Your throat tightened as you got a glimpse of the warm brown that you had missed so much. 'She missed you too, I think that's why she came here.'

'I miss her too,' he said sadly, 'she was the only parent I really had.'

Bit by bit, he stepped closer, closing the distance between you.

'I'm sure she'd love to see you,' you offered quietly, 'if you're not busy?'

'I don't think I'm busy,' he told you, smirking. Your stomach backflipped, and your fingers itched to know his skin again.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. You knew you needed to rip the band-aid off and just say it.

As you finally blurted out the words, his voice melded with yours.

'I missed you,' you both said.

Pausing, you looked at each other. You finally met his eyes. In that warm gaze, you saw all the love you had seen when you were young. All the longing that you felt was mirrored in him. His cheeks flushed, and you became aware of the heat in your own face as the pair of you laughed.

'I'm sorry,' you told him, taking a step closer to him. He was within reach now, you could have easily brushed his hair from his eyes, or taken his hand.

'For what?' he asked, closing the distance further.

'For ending things. I thought it hurt to miss you when I had you, and then I didn't anymore... I've never felt so alone... I should have just waited-'

'No, Y/N, you did what you needed to. And it would have only gotten worse from there anyway. We didn't get a break for years. With or without you, I never would have seen you.'

He lifted his hand to rest on the bare skin of your arm, admiring the tattoo that covered the scars on your bicep. Your body tingled under his touch, your resolve weakening.

'I'm glad to see that chapter is closed,' he said softly. 'It is, right?'

'Yeah,' you assured him. 'I got close a few times, but I remembered what I promised you and I just couldn't.'

'Good,' he breathed.

You were so close now, his head tilted down to look at you, and you could almost feel his breath on your skin. A cool breeze blew over you, making you shiver. The sound of thunder rolled across the sky, and you couldn't help but laugh as a heavy raindrop smacked on his head, making him flinch.

'Why is it that every time we find each other, it rains?' you mused, grinning up at him.

'Or there's sprinklers?' He added with a smirk.

As the rain fell in slow, fat drops dotting the sidewalk, you felt your heart twist. His hand moved, raising to your cheek. Your eyes welled up, too many emotions filling you.

'I never stopped loving you,' he told you. 'I missed you, and I thought about you every single day.'

'So did I,' you admitted. 'I couldn't stop.'

'And now, here you are...' he said.

'Here we are.'

His lips finally touched yours, and thunder cracked overhead. The sky opened, the rain falling faster, masking the tears on your cheeks as you melted into him. In a matter of moments you were drenched, but you didn't care.

'Never let me go again,' he begged you between heated kisses.

'Never.'

Your arms wrapped around his neck, holding him to you. Your hearts pounded against each other's as your chests pressed together. There wasn't enough of him, you needed everything he could give you. You wanted to wrap yourself in him and never let go.

When the thunder seemed to be overhead, he released you, grabbing your hand and dragging you to the front doorstep of your house. His beautiful smile set something in you alight, a fire you thought you had lost a long time ago.

He rang the doorbell, holding you close to his side, his fingers laced tight in yours. After a moment, your mom appeared at the door with a broad grin and the two towels in her hands.

'It's about time,' she said, handing the large fluffy towels over to you, ensuring you each had the towel with your own name embroidered on it.

'You were watching out the window, weren't you?' you asked her with a laugh.

'You were taking forever to get the mail, I was curious,' she told you innocently, 'but Noah? It is so good to see you, honey.'

She opened her arms to him, asking him for a hug. Noah hesitated for a moment, looking down at his sopping clothes.

'Honey, it's water, get over here,' your mom demanded, pulling him into a tight hug. Noah grinned, revelling in her hug. He was home. You could see it on his face, tears pricking at his eyes as he squeezed her tight. He was finally home.

Noah stayed the night with you, having missed your mom's home-cooked meals and sharing a bed with you. He texted his housemates, telling them that he would be with you. Nick was excited to hear that you had moved out to LA, and you had to promise that the three of you would hang out together soon, but for the moment, all you wanted was Noah.

You spent the night tangled up in him, your legs entwined while he cradled you close to his chest. Every now and then he would kiss you wherever he could reach, often on the forehead or on your lips.

You giggled together in the dark, listening to the storm outside and reminiscing on all the nights you'd spent huddled under the covers back in Richmond.

'I love you,' he whispered to you as you both drifted closer to sleep.

'I love you too,' you told him, brushing your fingers across his cheek and smiling tiredly.

In the morning, your mom handed him a key as you sat down at the table with your coffee. She told him that he always had a home with the two of you. He tried to hide it, but you saw him getting misty eyed as he hugged your mom.

You had to leave for work, but Noah was free to sit and catch up with your mom. You left them together, smiling at the scene as you said your goodbyes.

Noah rushed after you, chasing you to the car with a smitten grin.

'Hey,' he called out, holding the car door open, 'you forgot something.'

'Oh?' you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He leaned into the car and kissed you, not caring that some of your lipstick was on his face now.

'I love you,' he said with a smile, 'okay, now you can go.'

This became a routine. As long as he was in town, the two of you shared a bed. Sometimes you slept in his, but most of the time you slept in yours. He would kiss you goodbye every morning as you left for work, and if he wasn't in town he would send you some kind of message.

The distance became bearable now that he would always come home. You missed him while he was on tour, but at least he would end up back with you at the end of it all instead of on the other side of the country.

It took some getting used to, but you adjusted.

Months passed, and there came a day when you were both free. He was excited, wanting to take you out somewhere, just the two of you. You agreed, seeing him so happy there was no way you could tell him no.

In his black pickup, you drove to the outskirts of town. He wouldn't tell you where you were going. You let him lead the way, trusting him.

He pulled up and parked the car, finally letting you see where you were. He'd taken you to a forest trail. For a minute, you didn't understand, but you let him guide you. He lead you down the trail and to a little clearing where you saw it.

A tree, just like the wishing tree back home.

You couldn't hide the smile on your face. He raced with you to the tree, both of you dragging yourself up through the unfamiliar limbs and branches. Noah had to help you a few times, pulling you up to a higher branch that you could sit on together.

And as you sat, you found yourselves grinning like little kids.

'I figured a little bit of home was a good thing,' he told you, taking your hand. 'But my home is wherever you are.'

'Noah,' you giggled, leaning into him and shoving him gently with your shoulder.

'I'm serious!' he told you, his eyes crinkling with his laughter. You loved the sound, never tiring of his voice. He could read a dictionary out loud and you would listen to him happily.

'How did you even find this?' you asked him, letting him hold you steady on the branch.

'I used to go hiking during quarantine. It was all I was allowed to do, and it got me out of the house for a while.'

You nodded in understanding. Those years had been insane.

'But, there's a reason I wanted to bring you here,' he said nervously. You shifted, turning to face him and swinging your leg over the branch to straddle it. Noah mimicked your movements, your knees touching each other's as he took your hands in the space between you.

You searched his face, seeing a hint of fear in his eyes. Your throat wanted to close at the sight, but you forced yourself to breath through it, squeezing his hands reassuringly.

'I know it hasn't been long since we found each other again, but I don't ever want to lose you again,' he said, sucking in a deep, shaky breath. 'I wish I had told you earlier than I did, I wish we could have spent more time like this. I loved you before I knew what it meant to love someone. You helped me when no one would, and you never wanted anything from me but a friend. I don't know where I'd be without you, but I wouldn't be here.'

As he spoke, your eyes began to water. Your fingers tangled tighter into his, your heart twisting in your chest.

'I don't want us to ever go through what we went through ever again. I want to always be with you, to look after you. I want to kiss you good morning every day, and I want to be the last thing you see when you go to sleep. I want to bring you coffee, and read your books to you, and run through sprinklers with you. My world starts and ends with you, and I want to be there while you build your world into whatever you want it to be. And I hope that whatever that is, it includes me...'

He released your hand, sliding his fingers into his pocket and retrieving something. A deep red velvet box. He opened it and turned it to you, holding it carefully in the palm of his hand.

'Y/N, I love you, more than anything. I wanted to do this in our tree, but this is the closest I could get us,' he chuckled, smiling nervously and looking at the box in his hand. The ring glittered under the light spilling through the canopy of leaves above you. 'Marry me? Please?'

You couldn't find words. Your body was a cacophony of emotion, tears spilling down your cheeks while your heart pounded in your chest.

'Noah,' you whispered, testing your voice. You could see how nervous he was, and you wanted to put him out of his misery. You nodded, smiling back at him. 'Absolutely. I will absolutely marry you.'

He couldn't get the ring on your finger fast enough. He couldn't kiss you hard enough, or hold you close enough. The pair of you were an emotional wreck, smiling and laughing while tears spilled down both of your cheeks.

Before you left the tree, Noah carved your names into the branch, scrawling a date under it. He helped you get down, and he caught you as you lowered yourself from the last branch, spinning you in a circle and kissing you fiercely.

'I love you,' he said, 'and I'm gonna say it until you hate it.'

'I could never hate it,' you told him, your arms tight around his neck.

When you got home, your mom was thrilled. She couldn't be more excited, demanding to see the ring and telling Noah it was about time. She immediately launched into wedding planning, promising to finance whatever you needed. She was overjoyed to have Noah be a part of the family on paper.

She helped you over the next few months while you picked dates and guests and everything there is to do with a wedding. You debated on inviting your father, but decided against it. He had never been warm to Noah, he didn't need to be a part of this celebration.

Noah had to travel a little bit while all this was happening, but it gave you plenty of chances to find a dress. And he would call every night wanting to know what you and your mom had found or planned.

You weren't sure who was more excited, you or Noah.

And as the days passed, the day finally came.

You walked down the aisle with your mom, surrounded by friends and family, but the only person who mattered to you waited at the end of the aisle with the biggest smile on his face and a glimmer in his warm brown eyes.

He took your hand and held it tight, silently swearing to never let it go. You swore the same. It had always been the two of you (and your mom) against the world, but now you got to declare it in front of everyone.

What you weren't prepared for were Noah's vows.

'Y/N,' he began, 'our history has been a long road of ups and downs. We've known each other longer than I've known anyone else. And I can't think of anyone else I'd rather take on the world with. You have always been my rock, my biggest supporter, and my best friend. You came into my life when I needed someone like you, and I know I was mean to you, but I was embarrassed.

'I was embarrassed because I had seen you in that tree making wishes. I wondered if maybe it was magic, because it always seemed to work for you. I never told you what I wished for that day, but I think by now you've earned the right to know.' He paused, squeezing your fingers and lifting them to his lips, his eyes glistening with tears as he cleared his throat. 'I wished for someone to love me. And not a minute later, there you were, wanting to wish for a pass on your science test. But you offered to wish for something for me, caring about me from the minute we met. I got my wish.'

'But, as I got older, I learned something. The tree wasn't where the magic came from,' he said, smiling at you, losing himself in your gaze. 'The magic was you. You granted every single wish, one way or another. You pushed me to be better, to succeed. You gave me everything you could. You protected me when I couldn't protect myself, you gave me a home when I had nothing, and you loved me when I couldn't love myself. So here I am, vowing to you, that I will always, always, protect you. I will love you when you can't, and I will give you everything I can, and I will always be your home. I vow to keep your magic alive, and to grant every wish for you that I possibly can, because you gave me all of mine.'

You knew he was good with words, but he had you there. By the end of his speech, you were a mess of tears, your own vows forgotten. You wanted nothing more than to throw yourself at him and never let him go.

When you were finally pronounced man and wife, you met Noah with the deepest kiss you could, pressing your body into his and wanting to hold your breath forever so you could stay locked in his lips.

Your guests cheered and wolf-whistled, and Noah dipped you, giving them a show. When the need for air overcame you, you grinned up at him, hanging on to him tightly.

'I've got you,' he assured you.

'And I've got you,' you smiled back up at him.

He spun you back onto your feet, holding you to him as you left the ceremony together. You had to go and take pictures, but you really just wanted a moment alone together.

You lead Noah to the room where you had been getting ready before the ceremony started, closing the door.

'Are you okay?' he asked you, taking your hand. You nodded, thumbing over the band that adorned his left hand now.

'Yeah,' you told him, swallowing hard. 'You just blindsided me a little.'

'I'm sorry-'

'Don't be. Noah, I am so sorry for what you went through, but also I am so thankful that out of all the places it could have lead you, it lead you to me. And I am so thankful that I get to be the one to love you.'

'So am I,' he told you, stepping closer until your chests pressed together. 'I meant it, you're everything to me.'

'And you're everything to me.'

The reception was filled with celebration, jokes, cheering, speeches, and some very unfortunate dancing. And naturally, at the end of the night, LA was subjected to a massive thunderstorm. Your guests hid inside, but you and Noah ran out into the rain, knowing you couldn't break tradition now. The pictures ended up immortalised in your photo album, displayed on the mantle in the house the two of you bought shortly after your honeymoon.

You got lucky, you managed to find a house just a few blocks from your mom. The house had a big yard, but it was missing something...

Noah came home from a tour with the answer a few months after you had settled in.

'I don't know if this is legal, and I have no idea how to do it, but we're gonna try,' he told you, opening a secure compartment in his suitcase and presenting you with a box.

It was an old amazon prime box, about as big as a shoebox, but as thick as a matchbox. You shot him a look, raising an eyebrow.

'Just open it,' he told you, rolling his eyes.

So you did.

A bundle of branches sat in the box, wrapped in wet paper towel.

'You went to Richmond?' you asked. He nodded.

'I did, and I brought some of the wishing tree home. If we do it right, we can have our own wishing tree, right here in our yard. It will take years to grow, but I can't see a reason not to.'

You smiled, shaking your head and placing the branches on the table.

'I love you,' you told him, looping your arms around his neck and kissing him.

'I love you more.'

Together, you propagated the branches, and you successfully planted a tree. And over the years, as that tree grew, the two of you grew. Your love grew, your family grew, your happiness grew. And one day, you and Noah will get to tell your daughter all about the wishing tree, and take her back to your wishing tree.

But for now, you and Noah get to watch her, seeing the magic you made together grow.

THE END.

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

is it over now? (was it over then?)

part seven

part eight: i think about jumping off of very tall somethings

Eddie was fully convinced he had lost whatever remaining dignity he might have had when his friends had found him sunken into his beanbag chair with random detritus strewn around the room. He really thought he could not feel any lower than when Ronnie made it more obvious than necessary that she was picking her way through Eddie's junk to stick a hand into his nest and pull him out by his collar. He thought that was rock bottom, but being early for coffee with Robin and Nancy and having to wait with a cooling americano he spent way too much money on really gave that whole experience a run for its money.

Ronnie had suggested dming Robin and Nancy and testing the waters to see if they would be willing to broker some sort of reunion with Steve. Eddie stared at her like she had suggested he deliver the one ring to mordor alone; however, she obviously had a point since the newly announced couple suggested meeting up.

"Hey! Eddie! Sorry we're late!" Robin caught Eddie's attention as Nancy went to order.

"Oh, uh, no worries," Eddie fumbled, "I'm just happy you're here at all honest."

"I mean, Nance said it's only fair to hear you out but you were fucking brutal to my best friend, dude, so like the window to give you some grace is pretty fucking small," Robin answered.

"No, yeah totally understood. How do you want to do this?" Eddie asked.

"Why don't you just explain what happened from your side of things. From our angle, you look like kind of a douche but also I feel like maybe Steve didn't handle things great either? I dunno. I mean, you made him really happy, if we have a chance to fix that, I think I owe it to Steve, right?" Robin answered.

"Sure, yeah, no that makes sense," Eddie started as Nancy sat down with her and Robin's drinks.

"Keep going, Eddie, this is mostly Robin's thing anyway," Nancy prompted. She did not look quite as open to fixing things as Robin did and Eddie felt a little more nervous after he let himself relax in Robin's easy presence.

"For sure, so like obviously you know all of the like tabloid bullshit about Steve and whatever and like I kind of got it and understood but then without any warning I show up and Steve's like gorgeous and super successful ex was just on his couch and Steve isn't willing to explain? I mean that was pretty fucking hard to swallow," Eddie finished a little less certain of where he stood with Robin as she narrowed her eyes over her tea.

"So instead of trusting Steve and listening to him when he told you how much the tabloids have lied about him throughout his career you let the fact that I was present in his home be enough to trump years of what you all had built?" Nancy questioned. Eddie could see her journalism chops coming out.

"That's fair. I mean, I definitely acted without a lot of thought but like, why wouldn't you have looped me in? Did you guys not trust me?" Eddie asked still trying to figure out why he was left flat footed all those weeks ago.

"I think that might be on me," Robin piped up, "I was pretty nervous about coming out and I think Steve was being super protective and didn't want to ask me to come out to more people than I was wanting to. It's not that he didn't trust you, Eddie, it's that we had some pretty shitty years with different agents trying to push me in different directions and I think he just was sick of feeling like outside forces were making me move quicker than I was ready to. And it's not like you made it easy on him to reach out to you after. How was he supposed to respond when you blocked him on literally every platform?"

"I guess I didn't think he would want to explain or he'd try to like explain everything away even though it had seemed obvious at the time he was cheating on me," Eddie paused when both Robin and Nancy threw death glares across the table, "Jeez, I know now that was stupid but at the time it was the only rational I could see."

"I guess we should stop interrogating you, you do seem pretty serious, otherwise I don't think you would have agreed to meet both of us," Nancy jumped in.

"I really regret cutting him off like I did. I know I got way too in my head about everything immediately and just didn't give it time or let him respond," Eddie tried to sound as apologetic as he felt.

"We believe you, you two are both dinguses," Robin cut in, "more importantly, what are we going to do about that fucking song and how the hell do you propose apologizing for all the shit you stirred?"

"I thought we were done with the interrogation," Eddie held his hands up.

"Only about whether or not you're genuine, you still have to figure out how you are putting my bestie back together," Robin answered.

"So about that. I have a couple ideas. One, I feel like a song got us into this mess and my label wants more music anyways so I am kind of thinking of an apology song. The rest of my band has actually started workshopping some stuff with me to try to put it together as soon as we can. I'm kind of hoping to release it before Steve gets back so we are a bit under the clock," Eddie began, "And second, that's where I was kind of hoping you guys could help. I don't want to like ambush the guy but I also don't know if Steve will be interested in meeting with me or like ready to start dating again. I was kind of hoping I could crash one of your movie nights? Maybe once Steve gets settled a bit more?"

"Steve is not the best with surprises," Robin thought aloud, "but that's not a no, it's a convince me."

"I just figure he'll be in his space and relaxed and he also fully has an out to have you kick me out if he isn't interested. If he is, I was kind of hoping you too would be willing to make yourselves scarce?" Eddie hoped that was enough.

Surprisingly, Nancy was the one to answer.

"I think we have a deal, Munson," Nancy stuck her hand out for Eddie to shake.

Eddie left the cafe feeling more hopeful than he had in some time.

part nine

@lololol-1234 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @zombiethingy @grtwdsmwhr @dreamercec @anne-bennett-cosplayer @strawberryyyenthusiast

@mensch-anthropos-human @kal-ology @ttyrussss @kristmkris @starman-jpg @wonderland-girl143-blog @child-of-cthulhu @legalmenace87 @adealwithher @practicallybegging @lunaraquaenby @stripey82

@lexyvey @goodolefashionedloverboi @mothmamhasyourlocation @mugloversonly @sherrylyn0628 @steddieinthesun @wonderland-girl143-blog @counting-dollars-counting-stars @bookworm0690

(if you wanna be tagged in future parts feel free to comment! happy to add people)

[theocddiaries]

Bruce: Clark!? Clark! They're gone! They're gone! Clark: ? Bruce: Every picture we've taken for the last seven years is gone! Clark: What are you talking about? You have backups, don't you? Bruce: No, they were on the computer, and now they're gone… Listen, I keep hearing about a cloud. Do we have a cloud? Clark: Just the black one over our heads. Jason [From the other room]: We don't have a cloud! Bruce: Well, can we get one?! We need to buy one right now. Oh, my God, everything is gone… Dick's graduation, Tim's graduation, Dick's birthday, Jason's birthday, Tim's birthday! Damian: Not hearing a lot of Damian… Bruce: Do something besides read, and we'll take your picture. Sorry. I'm just too panicked to coddle you right now. [Dick, Tim and Jason come into the living room]. Dick: Wait… do not tell me the photo where I ran up against the wall and did that perfect flip was on there! It's only the most awesome photo ever taken, and I'll never be able to do it again! Ohh! You really Tim'd this one up, Tim! Tim: Well, it's not my fault, Dick! You know, if we had the original cord that came with the computer… But no! You had to take it up to college. So now Dad has this cheap knock-off Mr. Cord, so when I plugged it into the computer, it said: "this device is not supported by your cord"! Bruce: It's not the cord! It's the computer! [Gasps] Disney World! [To Clark]. I told you we needed a new computer. Yet, the man who knows nothing about computers said this one is fine! Clark: Don't try to blame this on me. I don't even know why we need a damn computer. How many times have I said to print them out, Bruce? Just print them out. Bruce: Gee, that's really helpful right now, Clark. Thanks! I'm gonna be sick… Clark: Look, you only need six pictures in life, anyway… Born, first day of school, first car, married, first kid�� Funeral. Jason: What about second kid? Tim: Or third? Clark: Kids look like kids. Bruce [Gasps]: Kids! Where are the kids pictures? Where are the picture from eight years ago and before… Before they all went digital? Damian: You lost those, too?! Bruce: No, no, no, wait. I think I have them in a box somewhere. Like a-a knock-off stride rite box from when you kids were little. Oh, my God, I haven't seen it in forever. We got to find that box! Everybody, just start looking! Clark: Really, Bruce? Are we really gonna do this now? It's Christmas Eve, and you're running around, making yourself a wreck over some pictures. Relax. Nobody's dead. Bruce: Yes, they are! 15-year-old Tim is dead! He's gone, and we'll never set eyes on him again now. And what about 10-year-old Jason, when he was sweet and he liked me? He's gone, too. There were thousands of pictures, Clark… thousands! Clark: Of this family?! Why?! I don't get it. It's like you're trying to archive for some museum that's never gonna be built. Unless you're a president or a serial killer, nobody cares! Bruce: I care! God, if we don't have computer pictures and we don't have picture pictures, we have nothing! Our history is gone! Tim: I can't remember anything without pictures! What did I eat for breakfast today? See? Gone! Bruce: Oh, God, could I have thrown it away when we did that spring cleaning a couple years ago? That would be so typical of me! Other people have a system, and I don't have a system, and now it's gone! Damian: Father, it's not your fault. Bruce: Yes, it is. This whole damn house is just a system failure. That computer has not been backed up for 67 weeks! I just kept hitting, "remind me later." Everything here is "remind me later." We live a "remind me later" life.

[sopebubbles]

Master List

Twelve

Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.

Chapter summary: Yoongi takes you on a date

Warnings: slight angst (mostly talking about her past), mentions of past abuse, homelessness, fear of abandonment

Honestly yall its a lot of yoongi and oc being freakin soft 😩

Yoongi was only slightly disappointed to find you awake and making breakfast with Hobi in the kitchen when he came in after eight in the morning. He'd kind of been hoping to be able to take a peek at you in your nest, just to see for himself that you were as safe and cozy as his other omega had promised (many times) that you were last night. Although he hadn't been gripped by the same agonizing fear he had known for the month you were gone, he still hated being away from you so long last night, and he'd texted both Jimin and Hoseok multiple times last to assuage his anxiety (and his guilt). They'd promised him that you had nested just fine, had eaten well and seemed perfectly happy with Jimin's company before peacefully going to sleep. It was cute just how much he worried about the details. 

"Yoongi!" You said his name brightly when you saw him and rushed over to give him a hug. You were too energized from a good night's sleep and the cup of fresh squeezed orange juice Taehyung gave you to be self conscious about it. You didn't seem to notice the flour on your cheek until Yoongi brushed it off with a smile. "Oh sorry. I'm probably getting you dirty," you said as you tried to pull away. He held you close. 

"I don't mind. Good morning," he hummed as he rubbed his chin over the top of your head. 

"M-morning." Yoongi's arms tightening around you turned to jelly when you'd been solid only moments ago. 

How can he be so warm? He must be tired and hungry.

"Can I get you some pancakes?" You offered, and he finally loosened his hold.

"Only if you eat some with me. Have you eaten yet?" 

You shook your head. "But I need to help Hobi."

The omega waved a hand at you without looking back. "I can handle it. If your alpha says eat, then it's time to eat. Which you know. She kept saying she didn't want to eat until you got here," he added just to make you squirm. A small whine escaped your throat, drawing the attention of all the men, whether they intended to look your way or not. "Careful, girl. Your whines have power here," Hobi smirked as he set two plates in front of you and Yoongi on the counter. 

You sat down and ate quietly for a few minutes while Yoongi tried and failed to pretend he was paying more attention to the food than to you. Jin and Jungkook were laying on the couch, nearly falling back asleep after stuffing themselves before anyone else got up. Jimin had gotten up to take your place helping Hobi while Taehyung and Namjoon sat at the table sharing the newspaper. 

"What do you want to do today?" Yoongi asked after several minutes. 

You swallowed and cleared your throat. "I have to work later."

Yoongi's fork froze halfway to his mouth. "What? why?"

You shrugged. "I work Saturdays."

"You work six hours a day, six days a week?" You nodded. "That's too much."

"I-I thought you d-didn't mind me working…"

Screwed it up already. Now you'll see how he really feels. The pancakes in your stomach turned to lead. 

Yoongi could see you getting nervous, watched you grow even smaller. "No. No, I don't," he managed, forcing his voice to be calm. "I don't mind you working if it's what you want.  But that's a lot. Thirty-six hours is almost full time but no benefits. That just seems…sketchy."

You tilted your head at him. "What do you mean?"

"Just that it seems like your employer is taking advantage of you. Do you get any benefits?"

"Well, I get heat leave."

"But what about health insurance? Vacation? Extended sick leave? What if you get pregnant?" Yoongi could feel all the air leave the room and wished he could take the words back.

You shook you head and spoke softly, "Yoongi, I'm not–"

"I know. I didn't mean that. I'm an idiot. I swear I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying, those are things you'd expect in a full-time job."

You shrugged. "It's not like I have a lot of options, Yoongi."

"I know," he sighed. "I just want you to be treated fairly."

You stood from your stool and walked toward the stairs. "People like me don't get treated fairly."

Yoongi got up and followed you, catching your arm as gently as he could. "I'm sorry. For what I said and how I said it. I know that you've been doing the best you could, and I have no right to judge that. Everything is okay." His hand laid hot against your neck, thumb stroking just the bottom edge of your scent gland. When he felt your shoulders relax, so did his. "Come finish your breakfast, and when you're ready I'll take you to work."

You turned worried eyes up at him. "You worked so hard, alpha. You must be tired. I'll finish, but then you need to go to sleep. Jimin and Tae will take me."

The corners of Yoongi's mouth turned up in a placating smile. "Okay."

He watched you walk back to your seat at the counter and pick up your fork, ignoring the eyes of the others as he joined you. He wanted to talk it through with you more, but he wasn't going to make you do it in front of everyone, and he didn't want to get into an argument before you went to work all day. Instead, he asked you how your night was and what you did the day before, and you plastered on a smile that slowly became more natural while you told him all about nesting and your newfound love of pillows.

When you'd both finished eating, you took your plates and washed them along with the others, no matter what Hobi said. You couldn't sit down and relax now. Doing so would only create nervous energy you wouldn't be able to dispel. You'd have to spend the rest of your day in motion. Yoongi followed you again when you went up the stairs to change for work, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't a little annoying.

At the top of the stairs you turned to look at him. "Are you going to follow me around all day?" You snapped. 

Yoongi took a step back. He honestly didn't even realize how close he was. "I'm sorry. I wasn't intending to." He rubbed a hand over his eyes and you could see how tired he was. 

You crossed your arms over your chest. "What are you doing?"

He sighed. "I was going to sleep like you'd suggested. I think I was following you because…"

He wants to sleep in my nest. 

The realization dawned on both of you. "It's not time yet," you said softly, but eased your defensive stance. 

Yoongi met your eyes with equal tenderness and smiled a little. "Yet?"

"Yet," you confirmed.

Somehow the idea that there was a future nest he would be invited into was enough for him. "That's alright."

You turned on your heel to walk to your room, but he called you back. "Would you like to go on a date with me tonight?"

"A date?"

"Yeah. If you don't have any plans."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Why?"

He chuckled. "Well, I told you we could date as part of our courtship, and I would like to get to know you better."

"But…" you looked at him with an expression of such utter confusion that he wished he had a camera to document it. 

"But what?"

"I just…I don't want you to force yourself to take me on a date if you aren't attracted to me."

It was Yoongi's turn to be utterly lost. "Whatever gave you the idea that I'm not attracted to you? I'm your alpha."

"Yeah, I know, but I feel like you're just doing this, taking me in because you want to protect me, because I'm so helpless and pathetic. And you were so cool about not breeding me. Plus you have all the guys, and so I just guessed you weren't thinking of me that way." You wilted under Yoongi's amused gaze. 

He snorted. "Princess, I do want to protect you because you are incredibly vulnerable, but that doesn't change my attraction to you one bit. And there's a whole world of intimacy between protecting you and breeding you. It's vast and we should go slow, but a date is a good start. That is, unless you aren't attracted to me."

Blood rushed to your face as you felt put on the spot. What kind of omega wouldn't be attracted to the alpha he was? What person wouldn't fall for his gentle, caring demeanor? But you couldn't possibly admit to it.

Yoongi stepped closer to mark the top of your head with his scent. The embrace only lasted a few seconds before he pulled away, but it still left you weak in the knees.

"I don't have anything to wear."

Yoongi shrugged. "It will be very casual. No one will see you but me. You can wear pajamas for all I care. Bonus points if you wear one of my hoodies."

You smiled at that thought. "Okay then."

"Good. Then I'll see you tonight," he told you before he turned and went into the pack bedroom to sleep. 

Yoongi was pleasantly surprised to find an apple-scented pillow in his usual spot and let himself enjoy it for a few minutes before his memory from last night came back to him. 

He had brought a patient to the emergency room of the hospital he had brought your ex-alpha to a few nights ago. After they filled out some paperwork, Yoongi and his partner took a break. His motivation was unclear, even at the time, but he found out what room the alpha was staying in from a nurse that liked to talk to him whenever she got the chance. She told him that he was still in the ICU, but that he was in a coma, and hadn't woken up since the night he was brought in. When he found the room, there was a woman inside. A tall redhead, an alpha as well, if Yoongi wasn't mistaken, so he steered clear, but it had stuck with him the rest of the night.

When he heard you, Jimin and Taehyung leave the house, Yoongi got out of bed and went to the living room where Jin and Jungkook were still on the couch.

"Is everything okay, Yoongi?" Jin asked when the alpha only stood over them without saying a word. 

"I need to ask you some questions. Legal questions," he clarified and sat on the coffee table opposite them. 

"What's on your mind, hyung?" Jungkook sat up to give him his full attention. 

"I found out last night that her ex-alpha–"

"His name is Sebastián," Jungkook added. 

Yoongi growled. "He's in a coma. And I just need to know what's going to happen to her if he never wakes up. And I guess, what happens if he does?"

Jin sat up and shared a look with Jungkook before he spoke. "If he doesn't wake up, there would most likely be a grand jury investigation, which would determine who, if anyone, was responsible for his death."

"In that case, the blame would likely fall on the driver, since she has already been charged with drunk driving. It would be manslaughter," Jungkook added. 

"But she said she pushed him, in her statement. That won't matter?"

Jin shook his head doubtfully. "She could get charged, but in my experience, if you put that girl in front of any judge or jury, there's no way they wouldn't chalk it up to self defense. If he does survive, it wouldn't even make sense to press charges for assault. He wouldn't look very sympathetic. But whether or not she's charged criminally, if he dies, his family could bring a wrongful death suit to civil court. But again, it will be hard to make her look like a perpetrator, especially since they're both Lykos."

"You seem confident that she'll be okay?"

"I am," Jin assured him. 

"But what if she had a motive?" Yoongi worried. 

"You mean because they knew each other?" Yoongi nodded. Jin thought it over, rubbing his finger along his lower lip. "The prosecution would have to prove she meant to push him into traffic and not just to get him off of her. In that case, she'd just need to be coached not to take the bait."

"Could you do it? Would you take the case? If it came to that, I mean." Yoongi didn't know any other lawyers, and he certainly didn't know any he thought he could trust with something like this more than Jin. 

He must have been able to read that emotion in Yoongi's eyes because Jin nodded. He wouldn't take that trust for granted again. "If she needs me to, of course, Yoongi. I'll do anything for you."

You were surprised when Yoongi said he was taking you to a drive in theater. You'd hardly been to any movie theaters at all in your life, and never a drive-in, but you liked the idea of it. There were lots of benefits to it. You got to go out to a public place, but sitting in his car was relatively private. The movie removed the pressure to make conversation, but on the other hand, if the movie wasn't very interesting, you could talk through it without disturbing anyone else. It was really a perfect idea for a first date. 

He'd urged you to take a nap when you got home since the movie wouldn't start until later, and you were glad you'd taken his advice. You didn't have much to choose from when it came to clothing options, so you simply put on a clean pair of jeans and the mustard yellow hoodie he had loaned you a few days ago. Yoongi seemed pleased enough with your ensemble, repeating his compliment of how nice you looked in that color. He wasn't dressed up at all either, wearing a pair of ordinary jeans and a baggy long sleeve shirt. You wouldn't know it because he wouldn't say such a thing, but there wasn't anything you could wear that would look more appealing to him than his own clothes, because they made you look like you were his. He beamed at you when you came down the stairs to leave with him. 

"Do I look okay?" You whispered to Hoseok. 

He pinched your cheek. "You look adorable. He loves it. Believe me." He winked at Yoongi over your head and the alpha held out his hand to take you to the car. "Don't come home too early," he instructed as you went out the door together. 

Once you got settled in the front seat, Yoongi cleared his throat before he started the engine. "This is for you," he said as he handed you a brand new Samsung phone.

"Oh, I–"

"Before you say you don't need it, just consider that it's for me. I want you to make sure that you have it with you and it's on all the time. I told you that it's important for me to know where you are, so I can keep you safe, so you need a phone. And don't worry, it's not like the newest model or anything. Besides, remember you're agreed to let me provide for you. So just accept it. It has all of the pack's numbers saved already, in case you ever need one of them, and they all have your number already. I'm your emergency contact," he rambled.

Instead of offering any protest you smiled softly and unbuckled your seat belt to lean over and kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you, alpha," you said before you leaned back into your spot. You may have wanted to refuse, but he was right, it was for him and not you, not really. If he needed you to carry this thing around in order to feel more secure, that shouldn't be hard for you. 

You weren't prepared for more gifts when you got to the drive-in. When you found a spot to park, Yoongi told you to wait while he got out of the car and went to the trunk. You looked anxiously through the back window, but couldn't see anything that gave away what he was doing. Eventually he pushed a large gift bag and picnic basket through his open car door before he joined you again. 

"What's all this?" You wondered, looking at the tissue paper sticking out of the huge bag at your eye level.

"Why don't you open it and see?" He teased. 

You narrowed your eyes at him as you got up on your knees to be able to look over the bag, but your scrutiny only made him smile. Pulling out the paper piece by piece revealed two soft round pillows inside, one lavender and one orange.

"I figured you needed some pillows for your nest. I thought these could remind you of me and Jiminie."

Your cheeks and your eyes burned as you pulled out the two pillows, almost ball-like except for how plush they were. They squeezed nicely in your arms when you held them to your chest.

"Do you think they'll be okay?" Yoongi asked, beginning to feel nervous when you didn't say anything. 

You buried your head in them to hide your wet eyes. "They're perfect." Your words were muffled, but they still warmed Yoongi's heart. When you collected yourself, you placed the pillows safely back in the bag and set it aside. "What's in the basket?"

"Oh, I asked Hobi to put together some snacks for us. But if there are any other treats you want, I'll go get something from the concession stand." Yoongi opened the top of the basket and you both reached for the box of raisinets at the same time. You whispered an apology while Yoongi plucked them out. He opened the box and handed it to you. "I'm going to go get some popcorn. Do you have a drink preference?" 

You shook your head and he got out once again to go get more snacks. You shoved a few raisinets into your mouth and put the rest away. Then you pulled out the soft orange pillow from the gift bag at your feet and held it close again. You wondered if he'd already scented it, or if it was your imagination that applied the orange aroma. 

The longer he was gone, your mind began to wander. It was hard not to think about all the first things you were experiencing lately. Your very first completely safe, self- made nest, your first drive-in movie, your first date. It had felt like you'd been living for years, in the most raw way possible, but maybe all you'd done was survive, and only barely. These new things seemed so small and insignificant to you when they were only abstract ideas, things you would live without because you didn't need them to survive, but now they felt monumentally important as each one carved a memory in your heart. And each one was available to you only because of Yoongi.

The man at the center of your thoughts broke through them when he returned several minutes later carrying a large bucket of popcorn, which he handed to you, and a large coke that he balanced on the dashboard. 

"Is everything okay?" He asked, taking in your expression, which remained pensive as he settled into his seat. 

You forced a smile, not because you weren't feeling it, but because it wasn't a thing you were accustomed to showing. "I'm fine. I…" you searched for something to say that would take you away from your thoughts. "I didn't even ask what we were seeing."

Yoongi chuckled at himself. "Oh. Yeah. It's actually a horror movie. I was actually hoping we could see the comedy that's playing on the other screen, but it was sold out, so this one was left. But if you don't like horror movies, I was thinking we could just sit and talk. Or we could leave. Or if we're really bored we could turn on the radio station for the comedy and watch it with the horror scenes."

You laughed at his ridiculous idea, but thought it actually sounded kind of fun. "Well, I do like horror movies, but option three also sounds interesting," you admitted with a smile that almost stopped his heart. 

Yoongi cleared his throat as he looked out the window. "There's still like twenty or thirty minutes before the sun sets and the movie starts. Maybe we can still talk?" 

You began to get the feeling that this was what he actually wanted to begin with. He had said he wanted to get to know you, and you supposed he had a right to know the person he was taking in, but at the same time you didn't want to overwhelm him with all of your baggage, at least not in one night. 

"What do you want to talk about?" You hedged, shoving a kernel of popcorn past your lips. 

"Well, I just really want to know more about you, but I don't want to be unfair, so you can ask me anything you want to," he offered, turning in his seat to look at you. 

"I don't know what I could tell you that Jungkook hasn't already. I mean, he must have run a background check on me, right? And he would have told you before he let you take me home?"

Yoongi shook his head. "Jungkook hasn't really said much, actually. I mean, yeah, we do know about, um, where you were before you came to the city," he said diplomatically. 

"You mean jail?" You asked provocatively. "You can say it. Unless it makes you uncomfortable, which I understand." You knew you shouldn't be getting your hackles up with him. He approached the subject gently and here you were, striking back with your claws out like the alley cat that you were. You closed your eyes to try to calm your racing heart.

He placed a hand on your shoulder. "Y/N, it's okay. I'm not judging you. No one in the pack is, either. You're not the only person to get arrested, you know."

You opened your eyes and looked at him incredulously. "Have you been arrested?"

Yoongi nodded his head. "When I was sixteen. A friend and I stole his uncle's car and went for a joy ride. I was just a passenger, and I hadn't presented yet. They dropped the charges."

"Wow, grand theft auto," you chuckled and he did too.

"My point is, we all have a past. I mean, some of us more than others, but you're not the only one."

You eyed him uncertainly. "Did he tell you what I was arrested for? I wasn't just arrested Yoongi. I spent six months in county."

Yoongi nodded. "I know, but I'm not judging you for what you had to do."

You shook your head with a wry laugh. "That's the thing. I didn't do it. I mean yeah, she made me go out there, but I promise you I didn't sell my body. Honest. That was my first night. I may have been naive, but I'm not an idiot. The first guy I talked to was a cop, and I knew it. I could spot him easy, so I offered myself up and I let him arrest me. And when they charged me, I pleaded guilty. Do you know why?" Yoongi shook his head, dark eyes locked on yours. "Because going to jail was better than going back to my alphas."

Yoongi kept his face neutral despite the anger he felt bubbling below the surface of his skin. He'd never ever question your decision, but he would always feel angry that your situation was so bad that jail seemed like a viable alternative for you. 

"You said alphas?" He questioned when he managed to speak. 

"Two of them," you said with a nod.

"And one of them was female?"

"Yeah, they were husband and wife."

"How did you meet them? I mean…he's so much older."

You grabbed the coke from the dashboard and took a long drink to clear the lump in your throat. Yoongi's eyes never left you, but you tried to ignore him. "I met her first. I was on the streets. I was almost seventeen by then, but I'd been on my own for months. She just started talking to me one day when she was volunteering at a soup kitchen…offered me a place to stay. And I was desperate enough to not question it."

"So she just…took you in off the streets?" You nodded. "And then what?" He asked as if your story was the one he had bought a ticket for tonight.

"And then…and then everything seemed normal for like a week. They just seemed like a regular couple. They had a spare room and they needed help around the house, so I would clean and take care of the house in exchange for living there. It was several days before I realized they actually wouldn't let me leave. I hadn't really been on heat suppressants yet, and when that time came around I found out that the real reason they wanted me was because they wanted babies. They couldn't have any on their own, so they would use me. Like some fucked up puppy mill," you choked out.

Yoongi reached over to pat your back, but you flinched away from him, and he could understand that you wanted your space after such a revelation. He took his hand back and tried to think of something to say when all he wanted to do was rage on your behalf.  But he knew it wouldn't do you any good. "It makes sense that you were so frightened when two other strangers took you off the street. You must have been very scared."

You looked him straight in the eyes. "It's only been a few days. Shouldn't I still be scared?"

It wounded Yoongi deeply that you felt that way, but he could hardly blame you. He knew it wasn't about him exactly. "I'm sorry. I know there isn't really anything I could say to reassure you that you're safe with me but–"

"It's okay, Yoongi. I do feel safe with you. It's different. The way I feel when I think about you. When I'm near you…I feel safe but…" you looked out at the narrowing strip of pink sky to your left. 

"But what?"

"I've been taken in so many times when I think I'm at my lowest. When I was abandoned as a baby, when I met those other alphas, when Eli came to play big brother. And never, never has any of it actually made me safe."

"I hope–" Yoongi could feel the tears at his water line, but they would stay there. He bit his lip and looked away as well. "I hope you'll stay long enough to know that you will be safe in our home."

You looked back at him finally and noticed the collar of his unbuttoned button-down shirt was crooked. Reaching over to straighten it, you assured him, "as long as you keep it safe for me, I won't have anywhere else to go."

Yoongi took your wrist gently before you had the chance to pull away from him. With his fingertips against your pulse point, he could feel the strong, steady beat of your heart, not high enough to be panicking, but still a little anxious. "I will do everything I can to make you feel safe," he promised.

Before you could make any kind of response, the lights over the parking lot shut off and images began to play on the screen in front of you. Without another word, Yoongi released you in order to fiddle with the radio, tuning it to the right station for your movie. You both settled back into the seat, facing the screen, with a mountain of snacks in between you. You each tried your best to focus on the movie, but you could feel it every time his eyes slid toward you as he watched your profile instead of the characters on screen. Every time you turned to look at him he recentered his attention, but he was fooling no one. Several times your hands brushed when you both reached into the popcorn for a salty snack, and he would chuckle awkwardly before pulling away. 

You both tried to focus on the movie, but the truth was that it did nothing to hold your attention, not with Yoongi right beside you.

"There's something I don't understand," you said abruptly, causing Yoongi to look quickly between you and the huge screen. The movie had been pretty straight forward, to the point of being pretty boring. 

"What?"

"Why do you like me? Why me?" Yoongi laughed openly while you pouted. You pulled your feet under you and turned to face him straight on, giving up any pretense of watching the movie. "Don't laugh. I'm serious. I mean. I don't know. I guess I'm trying to understand your intentions because I want to believe that this won't be like before but I…I'm scrawny and dumb and there's nothing interesting about me. I'm not even pretty enough to make up for it all. And there are plenty of needy omegas in this city. So what could you possibly want me for?"

Yoongi's humor subsided, and he turned the radio down before moving to face you as well. His expression was serious but his eyes still held light. He reached over to brush back your hair so he could see your face in the scattered light from the projector. 

"I don't think attraction is ever really about those things. Not how someone looks or what they have to say, but how those things resonate with you. It's an elemental, a chemical thing. I just like you. Maybe that's why Hobi and Jin think we're fated mates."

"Fated mates?"

"I don't know. It's kind of…lykos folklore. Sort of what saps think of as soulmates. Like, it just feels right with someone, like you're linked to them even though there's no real reason. There's no proof that it's real. It's just a feeling I guess. But they say it only happens with alphas and omegas. And I don't think I believe it. I don't know if you feel that. But I do feel drawn to you in a way that I never have with anyone else. I don't even think attraction is the right word. I just feel like…I need to be with you."

Yoongi's eyes never left your face while he talked and you didn't realize you were holding your breath until he stopped and you inhaled so you could answer him. "Maybe that's why my omega wants me to trust you even though everything else tells me not to. Like, I should be terrified of you, but I'm just not. I just want to be good so that I can stay."

You didn't know you were leaning toward him, nor were you fully aware of the words you spoke or how they made Yoongi's heart race, but when he brushed his fingers along your cheekbone you suddenly leaned back, blinking rapidly to regain your composure.

Yoongi coughed and pulled his hand away, reaching for candy to occupy his fingers. "I guess I should be honest with you about my intentions," he said with a shrug. "Because I know they aren't entirely altruistic."

You swallowed, but kept your eyes on him. His words made you nervous, but you'd hardly call it fear. "What do you mean?"

"Maybe it's a little dark. Or maybe all alphas feel this way. I always knew I was an alpha before presentation, because I always wanted people to depend on me. I always wanted to be in charge, to be a provider, to have the people in my life need me even more than they wanted me. In a way, the attraction I have, the love I have for the others, that's the unbelievable thing. With Jimin, with you, I felt from the first time I met each of you that you needed me. You wouldn't survive without me. And I liked that. Do you think that's kind of sick?" He wondered. You couldn't tell if he wanted an answer, or if he wanted you to be a little bit scared. But still you didn't feel it.

I don't think I will survive without you, your inner self echoed. 

You reached out to him, let your fingers graze the back of his hand. "I'm not sure. I'm not the best judge of what's normal and what's not. But it sounds right to me. I think to myself sometimes, I don't know how I've survived this long. I should be dead. Omegas…we aren't built to make it on our own. Sometimes it seemed like my death was right around the corner, but I don't feel that way anymore. The last two days have felt like the safest days of my whole life," you admitted. 

Yoongi's chest felt tight, like his heart would burst through his ribs if you kept talking. He turned his palm up so he could slot his fingers through yours. You sat in silence for a moment, letting him hold your hand while he tried to keep his breathing steady. 

"I don't understand why you're not pack alpha. Is it because Seokjin makes more money?" You wondered after a minute as you brushed back his chin length hair with your fingers. 

Yoongi chuckled. "If we're getting technical, Taehyung makes the most money in the pack."

Your eyes bulged in surprise. "But I thought Tae didn't work."

"He doesn't have a job in the strictest sense, but reclusive artists are often the most sought after. His paintings sell for a high price tag to collectors."

You hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe I picked the wrong alpha." 

Yoongi tugged on your hand playfully, making you giggle. "I always wanted to be a pack alpha. When I was younger I tried to establish my own pack but…it just wasn't right. I didn't have a lot to offer back then. I've never had Jin's resources. And then I met his pack, and I felt very comfortable with them. It was easy to fall in love with each of them so quickly. But they were already complete before me. I felt surprised they even wanted me. So I let go of that dream. It's been over five years now."

"But then you met Jimin, right? Did you think about starting a pack with him? On your own, I mean?"

Yoongi shrugged. "An alpha and a beta isn't much of a pack. You can make a pack without a beta, but without an omega? What's the point?" He looked at you through his eyelashes, but then quickly away. "Besides, Jimin and I both always wanted a big pack, and he clicked with Jungkook and Taehyung right away. It would have been selfish to take him away just because I wanted to be in charge."

"You're my pack alpha though," you murmured, sending a shiver down Yoongi's spine. He could only nod. "Good."

He lets his eyes close and for a minute you just watch him breathe steadily, happy that he seems content with you. But as seconds slip by you begin to feel that it might not be enough. Maybe it was silly, but you felt so much closer to him after all you'd both said, and holding his hand wasn't physically close enough anymore.

"I'm kind of cold," you told him quietly, taking him from his thoughts. 

"I can turn on the heat," he offered, letting go of your hand and reaching for the ignition. 

"Or maybe you could just hold me?"

The corner of his mouth tugged into a smile. He helped you move all the snacks to the backseat of the impala and moved closer so you met in the middle. You huddled into his side as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you legs over his. You let out a quiet, happy sigh you hoped he didn't notice. 

"If you wanted to cuddle all you had to do was say so," he whispered to the top of your head. 

You turned your face into his shoulder. "I'm working on it," you mumbled. 

He smiled and ran his fingers through your hair, dragging his fingernails gently against your scalp. "You're doing great, princess."

You made a noise Yoongi wouldn't only describe as grumpy and turned your face up at him. "Why do you call me that?"

"Because that's what I want you to feel like. Because princesses have everything they need provided for. And because you're special just because you're you. But if you don't like it, I can call you something else."

You nestled into him again. "Well, when you put it like that."

Once again, Yoongi turned up the volume on the radio and you both at least pretended to pay attention. Although the movie in general was pretty innocuous, you took advantage of one lame jump scare to bury your face into his neck. Yoongi held his breath as you nosed at his scent gland, causing his light, happy scent to fill the car around you. He let you stay in his arms until the end of the movie, and although you didn't fall asleep, it was an easy mistake for him to make. He scratched teasingly at your side to rouse you when the screen went dark. 

"Are you ready to go home, princess?"

You tilted your head up to see his features illuminated by the lights of other cars as they made their exits. You'd practically forgotten that there was anyone else there. Your head nodded sleepily, and Yoongi reluctantly moved you over to your side of the seat. When he moved behind the steering wheel you moved back to the center seat and strapped in the seatbelt there so you could stay close to his warmth.

No matter how old you get, the urge to stay up on a Saturday night always remains. Yoongi could tell by the soft footsteps moving about the second floor that the pack are just settling in for the night, brushing their teeth and for the most part discarding unnecessary items of clothing before staking their claim to their spots in the nest. Everyone was home for once, and they'd all sleep soundly. Even you. Even Yoongi, although he knew that it still wasn't time for you and him to share space for that activity. You climbed the stairs sleepily with Yoongi a few steps behind you, making sure you didn't slip as you swayed precariously. His hand went quickly to your hip, grabbing hold of the fabric there when you tripped over the top step. The noise brought Hoseok to the bedroom door.

"You didn't get her drunk, did you, alpha?" Hobi asked from the half open door. Yoongi rolled his eyes, because the omega knew that wasn't the plan.

"No, just sleepy," you yawned as you rubbed your eyes. 

Jimin squeezed past Hoseok to give you a goodnight hug. "You smell like you crawled out of an orange." He giggled, "apples and oranges."

Yoongi blushed while the two of you said your goodnights. 

"Do you need any help getting ready for bed?" Hobi asked softly. He'd helped you take apart your nest earlier today so that you could keep practicing. 

"No, I think I got it. And I have new pillows," you whispered happily.

"Okay then," he smiled back. "Yoongi, I'll see you in a minute," he said, and the instruction to your alpha was clear, just in case he didn't already know where he would be sleeping tonight. He closed the door and the two of you were cloaked in darkness except for a sliver of light from a lamp Hoseok left on for you in your room. 

"Are you going to tell them what I told you earlier?" You asked after a moment passed with nothing but the sound of your breathing. 

"I won't, if you don't want me too. But no one is going to judge you if you're–"

"No. I was just thinking it would be better if you did. That way I don't have to tell it six more times."

Yoongi nodded. It was a vulnerable thing you had shared, and it couldn't be easy to talk about with others. "I read once that if you talk about your trauma repeatedly, like you're telling a story, it can start to feel more like a thing that happened and not something that's still happening to you."

You cringed at the thought. "I think I'd still rather have you explain it. If you don't mind."

"Of course," he agreed easily, anything to make you more comfortable. 

"I had a good time tonight," you admitted after another quiet moment where neither of you seemed to want to leave. 

Yoongi's smile was becoming semi permanent. "I'm glad. Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."

He took one step closer to you and leaned down to kiss your cheek, but you turned your head up in such a way that you caught his lips with your own. You froze in surprise, and even more shockingly, he didn't move away. Yoongi took another step into you, so your chests were just touching. His hand went around your back to keep you steady despite intensifying the angle of your kiss. Still, it remained chaste even as it went on. His lips were hot and soft and just slightly moist, but he seemed content to press his mouth just gently to yours for another moment longer. Then his lips finally left yours, he whispered his goodnight and disappeared into the pack bedroom. 

😃😃 they kissed! Who wants to scream about it?

Permanent taglist: @lilacdreams-00  @wholockian1 @babycoffeefire @theatren3rd @bri-mal @jikooksgirl19 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @marvelfamily3000 @borahae-reads @yoongiigolden   @staerryminimini @valhallawhispers @m4gg13-g @i-have-no-life-charlie @hellokittiesxbae @pamzn

Taglist: @ellesalazar @rinkud @osakis-gf @scuzmunkie @queen-in-the-shadows @toughbook @zariaskz @chansbaybygirl @cryingpages @coralmusicblaze @alex--awesome--22 @singukieee @welcometomyworld13 @juju-227592 @bangtanflirt @wittyreader @nyrovieeie @welcome418 @guinhosletters @lifeistooshorttowasteyourtime @moon-cupcakes @passionandsuga @zvrjkb @m0v3m3ntsblog @kykyxstandler @writingwithmai @moocow778 @ladyalicesbookstore @yoonseokerist @deejay08 @momoasenthusiasticreader @littlestarstinyseven @bittersweetbaylee

@im-sinking-in-mud @iloverubberduckiez-blog @someshinesomedont @kungsoonie @neverthefirstchoice @kameko-ko @sehun096rainbow

[russellsppttemplates]

A little hope (Part 2) (Lando Norris)

In which Lando realises he learnt a few things in school, and yet the only way to learn about you is hoping you'll have him by your side

Note: english is not my first language. This is part two of A little hope, which got a lot of love, so thank you for that 😊 hopefully you enjoy this ending! Thank you so much for the love on that piece ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions a couple's fight, self deprecation moments, body image insecurity, signs and symptoms of anxiety, online hate comments, sickness, curse words, allusions to smut

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

Somatic or not, your stomach was not handling any food. The minute you ate something, you were sure to bring if up a few moments later since you had arrived home, "for fuck's sake", you groaned, resting your head on your forearm on the edge of the toilet, taking a deep breath.

When you felt strong enough, you walked back to your bed, noticing the clock was reading six in the morning already. Rolling to the other side, you hoped you'd be able to sleep it off, but when your alarm rung, you felt even worse than before.

Getting your phone again along with your glasses, you opened the Team's group chat, writing a quick text to let them know that you didn't feel well and you wouldn't be able to join them today and that you would try your best to get ahead on the projects you could work on remotely. A few minutes later, Tara and Max texted back.

Tara TQ

I'm sorry to hear that, Y/N, I hope you feel better soon! Don't worry about anything else other than getting better! 💚

Max

Feel better soon, Y/N! Don't worry about work, we've got it!

A good while later you woke up again, feeling slightly better, you had enough energy to eat some plain crackers and drink some tea, feeling that it was actually settling in your stomach for the first time in the last couple of hours.

Taking in the stride, you went to the bathroom, hoping a shower would clean the night sweats away and give you a little boost. Just in case, you supported yourself on the wall, keeping close to it just in case your legs faltered while you let the water cascade down your hair to your back and legs, washing your hair quickly and rinsing your body wash from your skin. You wrapped your fluffy robe around your body and a towell for your hair, laying in bed to rest a little.

Skipping your usual routine, you dressed in some comfy clothes, a hoodie you had stolen from Lando and some plaid pyjama pants, inhaling the comforting scent. That was something you should think about, it wasn't fair to leave Lando waiting for you, and you needed to sort it out.

As if on cue, your doorbell rang, leaving you to think it was the mailman with a package for your neighbours as you would often take it for them whenever they weren't home.

"Hi! Are you Y/N Y/L/N?", a guy that looked a few years older than you checked, "yes, that's me", you squinted, "I have this, it was ordered for you. Enjoy it!", he said as he handed you a takeout bag.

Thanking him, you closed the door, seeing a little note attached to the bag.

This is a little something to help you get better soon. There's some chicken soup, pasta when you feel up to it, something sweet and some tea bags.

Love you, Lando 🤍

Smiling at the little note, your heart squeezed as you realised that the subject shouldn't go past this week.

While you heated up the soup, you grabbed your phone, opening your conversation with Lando so you could thank him.

I just got the takeout bag, thank you. I'm slowly coming back to feeling better, it's probably some forty-eight hour bug and my body telling me to slow down.

I think we should talk soon, whenever you have the time, tough. There's no rush!

I love you ✨️

"So, today we're taking over the stream!", Lando announced to the camera, smiling and waving as the chat went wild.

"We are just going to game, I think, as there has been a change of plans and we don't really know how to follow up to what we had planned to do", Max referred to the planned stream for Quadrant. The original idea came from the fans as they wanted to get to know the behind the scenes of the team, and just for luck, this week was for Graphic Design.

"We're making do with what we have, and as soon as we're able, we'll do the behind the scenes for all the graphic designing things that go on at Quadrant!", Lando smiled sympathetically, the memory of you fond as your message sparked his hope, and the chat didn't seem to mind it too much.

I was hoping to see Y/N and Lando call me single in eighteen different languages, but I really do miss her

I take it she didn't even bother to show up, she's learnt her lesson I guess

Wasn't Y/N supposed to join them?

You can tell by Lando's face that he misses her, they're so cute together

It looks better like this, honestly

Imagine having to call your boyfriend to tell him that you can't show up to work

She probably doesn't even work, Lando has someone doing the job while she sits still and looks pretty

What do you mean? She doesn't even look pretty ??

Maybe she's ill or had something else to do? Can't you people be a little bit more empathetic and kind for once?

Max noticed how his bestfriend's attention was on the chat, looking at the same flood of comments he did before clearing his throat, "so, do we feel like racing or are we leaning towards another game?", he interjected, pulling Lando away from the screen slightly, "you choose, I'm not fancying anything particular. Only that I know that I'll beat you at anything", he chuckled.

Once they ended the stream, Lando tidied the room a little bit as Max switched the equipment off, "is that what you were talking about the other day? About Y/N?", he questioned.

"Yes. We have been talking to the platform managers, but they haven't restricted everything apparently", Max said, knowing better than to not tell him the truth.

"Who do they think they are to say things like that about someone they don't know? I get that I receive such things because I'm out there, but Y/N is barely a public person! She doesn't deserve that!", Lando huffed.

"Have you guys talked about it yet?", he questioned, having noticed that Lando hadn't texted you in the group chat but that he had a spring up in his step that afternoon.

"She texted me today, actually. We've been keeping to ourselves, we weren't in the right mind to discuss what needs to be discussed until now", he smiled, "I'm still unsure of going to see her today or tomorrow, since she's sick I don't want to bother her too much, and I could use someone else's perspective because I have a funny way with words and I don't want to get it wrong because I'm not a book worm and seem almost illiterate on any good day", he admitted.

"That's good, mate! Start going then, we're thinking out loud", Max encouraged, happy to see friend in high spirits. Because he had known him for so long, Max knew how different this relationship was from his past ones. They weren't bad or wrong, and they helped shape Lando into who he is and how he behaves. The way he cared about Y/N was different and Max couldn't find it in him and lie about the fact that he thought the young woman was it.

"Like you said, it's the fact that she's lost her name because of who she dates. All of a sudden, none of her achievements are valuable, worthy or even acknowledged because she's my girlfriend. Our relationship had nothing to do with her employment - hell, I only met her because she applied, otherwise Goodness knows where I would've met the love of my life - and, and I've been doing this thing where I just call her my girlfriend and I now understand that can be discrediting of her, like I just see her as my girlfriend. But the more I think about it, the more I realise I do it out of genuine pride of her. Look at me! I'm a muppet and I drive around in circles in the weekends, and she! That woman, this woman!", he showed him his lockscreen, a picture of the two of you, "she is the most talented person I've met and I'm so proud that I'm hers and she's mine!".

"I think you're underestimating yourself a little, but you've also played above your game", he chuckled, "and about the comments?", he wondered. Even though it wasn't your biggest concern, he knew one person could only muster up so much before letting it get to them.

"Like you said, we'll work with the platforms, if we have her permission we can also put out a statement about it. With her or anyone on the team, we don't tolerate offense", Lando said, "I want to make this as safe as possible, and the fact that it took her for us to notice it is a learning curve".

"Now you just need to be concise about it", Max tapped his back, "I'm sure she loves that babble situation of yours, thinks it's cute and all, but explain well enough", he smirked.

Like he thought, when he texted you to know how you were feeling, he got your reply awhile later saying that you were feeling better and the nap you had was helpful, and then another one saying he could swing by the next day if he wanted to.

Hoping the night made you feel better, Lando texted you the time he was planning to join you, scheduling his training session for the late morning so he could have a good lunch after his shower and get his plans started. You weren't swooned by big dates or big gestures, but rather small meaningful heartfelt things, so he stopped by the pharmacy to pick up some medication to restock your stash and your favourite chocolate.

"Hey, love", you smiled as you opened the door, seeing an equally smiling Lando, "come in, come in", you nudged as he stepped forward, eyes meeting a silently giving consent for a kiss on the cheek.

Silently, Lando left his trainers by the door, walking hand in hand with you to the living room, "are you feeling back to 100%?", he questioned as you sat down on the sofa, on your sides so you could face eachother while his hand played with yours still.

"Yes. I'm glad it's Saturday and I don't have to take any more days, and I can rest up without feeling guilty. And you, how have you been?", you wondered back, not knowing if he wanted to jump straight in the topic.

"I've been well. I was a little worried when you said you were sick, but now I'm better knowing that you're doing well... and that you're ready to tall about us", he blushed, eyes looking into yours.

"I want to thank you for waiting and understanding, and I want to apologise if in this mean time something I did hurt you or made you feel like you weren't welcomed in my life", you gulped, "I'm not used to feeling so little - fuck, I've never been called that - and I spiralled out to the point where I could only think that, through no fault of your own or my own, I'd lose my identity. I'd be Lando's girlfriend, and not Y/N, and I freaked out a little", you explained.

"You had your reasons, love. I'm just glad and thankful that you feel comfortable to tell me how you feel", Lando comforted, bringing your hand up to his lips as he kissed the soft skin.

"I didn't know you felt that way. Maybe I didn't see it or didn't want to see it, the way people were talking about you - and that is something we are going to figure out once for all - but I missed it. Whenever I say you're my girlfriend, it's not because that's just who you are. It's the fact that I'm incredibly proud of you, than I can't believe your my girlfriend and I just say it because I like to show you off, too!

"I learned so much stuff in school despite what I may appear to know, subtracting and multiplying with decimals, all of the capital cities, even though I'm still shit at them, yet, no one taught me how to prepare for this, for you, for how I feel about you. And I'm so proud of you that I tell it to everyone that you're my girlfriend, not because you're just that, but because I love you and you're so amazing", he exhaled out. Even though he had his usually silly tone, there was deep seriousness in his words still.

"You're confident, I love that about you, and to know that indirectly I was the person to put a dent in that makes me wonder if you should stick around me, because I don't want to ever hurt you. And maybe this is selfish, but I don't want to live without you. Now that I've known what it is like to have you in my life, to be yours, I don't want anyone else", he gulped at his own admission. Throughout the years, he learnt about vulnerability and came to terms with his own. Right now, it was bare for anyone to see.

"I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren't your own person, and I'm sorry if I did anything to hurt you or disrespect you", he sighed, seeing your watery eyes, "no tears, baby, I can't stand to see you cry", he whispered, cleaning the stray tear that made it's way down your cheek.

"I love you, Lando. I'm the luckiest girl to be able to see you for you, no titles or sponsorships, just you, around your friends and family, see your vulnerability, and I'm the luckiest because I get to be loved by you. So many people around you love you, and I get to be one of those you love back", you scooted closer to him, hands cupping his cheek before you kissed his lips.

"I always want you to be honest with me, baby. Anything you need to tell me, we will fix it, I know we will. I love how you always cry when Boo and Sulley hug for the last time in Monsters Inc. no matter how much times you've seen it, because you always let me know how you feel, and I want that for us. I'll show you how I feel too, and you can nag me when I don't. You're it, Y/N, no one else", he stated, "things people are saying about you are not okay, but Max and I, and the media team, too, are working on something".

"I don't care about who you've dated before, genuinely. But the fact that I'm bombarded everyday with comments regarding my body or my job from people who don't have any knowledge and only want to hurt, it's hard", you admitted, keeping your promise of showing him how you felt.

"You shouldn't because I don't either. I'm with you, and I plan to be with you for as long as you'll have me. I love you, I love your body, I love your personality and everything that you are", he said, getting up as he pulled you with him.

"Up", Lando said as he tapped your hip, helping you jump and wrap your legs around his waist, "where are you taking me?", you giggled, your hands coming to the nape of his neck and fiddling with his curls, "I'm taking you to the bed, and I'm going to love on you for the next couple of hours. We are going to have slow and soft sex, love making if you will, just to show you how much I love you and how much you mean to me".

[kitorin]

sweet dreams.

in which, nanami kento finally goes on a long overdue vacation

contents. nanami kento x gn!reader, 2.965k words, fluff but then heavy angst (mcd and hurt no comfort), mentions of murder (true crime stuff) but no detail of it, reader is a coward and really can't handle horror (sorry that's just me projecting)

"What did you do?"

Guilt makes your lips purse, tongue swiping over them out of habit. You didn't want to call him, to interrupt him during the night shift he ever so loathes, contributing to the things he has to do.

But with demons lurking in the dark and the sense of impending doom beginning to latch onto you, it felt necessary, especially when fear decided to be quite clingy.

"I got scared."

A tired sigh comes from the phone. "How many times do I have to tell you not to watch anything disturbing at night?"

"This documentary got really interesting. I wanted to know what happened next..." Explicit content was fine, with Kento there to cling onto and his never-ending reassurance. Your husband watched these intense shows and documentaries without so much of a flinch, unfazed by quite literally everything displayed on the screen.

You, on the other hand, was a completely different case.

The slightest raise in volume managed to steal a scream from you, and jump scares had you flinching just a bit too hard. The mere build up and suspense of the music had your heart racing, even if nothing happened and it served as a little trick.

"I'm so sorry Ken, I'll hang up so you can focus on work." You're an adult, you shouldn't be so cowardly towards a mere genre of entertainment, and you should know better not to consume it.

Your thumb reaches for the red button, and your emotions hold you back, while rationality argues not to.

"No. Neither of us are going to be hanging up."

One part of you celebrates quietly, while another insists. "But you're working. Overtime nonetheless, and I know you hate those shifts. It's best to get everything done as soon as possible and get out of there."

His voice is raspy, garnished by a sultry tone. "Love, I belong to you, not my job. I do appreciate your thoughts, but you're more important than a mere paycheck."

Fuck. There it is, his eloquent, smooth way with words.

"Still. I can wait." That was a lie, though one you were willing to utter if it meant he'd prioritise his job. "Besides, what about that higher up you mentioned? The irritating one that's childish and overtalkative?"

Kento chuckles. "He's here, but he takes his job seriously and is highly capable. I'm on break anyways. Talk to me. If you can."

"I read about the Sapporo murder case. I still feel like the culprits from the case is going to sneak up on me. Or one of the zombies from Happiness." You adored the show and its cast, but god forbid you sit through another one of its jump scares.

"That's fine, it's normal. The point of this type of media is so scare. A lot of effort is put into making sure they elicit emotion." You cling onto every word he speaks, the world around you still there, only a bit blurry now. "Breathe in through your nose for four second, pause for two. Then breathe out through your mout for another eight."

Have you brushed your teeth?"

Kento hums as a response when you answer yes.

"Where are you right now?"

"In bed, but I need to clean up and turn off some lights before I sleep."

"Ignore it. I'll do it when I'm home."

"Are you sure?" There was no point in asking that, not when you'd rather not move away from the security of the doona. "You're going to be exhausted by the time you're home."

"Doesn't matter to me." Genuine indifference to the matter displays itself in Kento's tone. "I took a nap earlier, had a coffee or two as well. I'm going to be alright—" Something in the background echoes, though you could barely decipher what you were hearing, the furious tone of the voice concerned you.

"Who was that...? Is your boss mad at you? Wait but it doesn't make sense for a boss to give you a nickname—"

For a moment or two, Kento remained silent. "No, just an enthusiastic intern. He's talkative and sometimes loud but he's a good kid."

Your former worry dissipates, so quick that it almost seemed like it was never there in the first place. "Nanamin, was it?"

He sighs, the two of you know damn well that you'll refuse to forget that one.

"It's cute! Nanamin. I like how it sounds."

Voice softening, he replies with a chuckle. "I feel like you'd get along well."

"You should invite him over then. He must adore you if he's calling out to you that much."

"If that's true then I'd say the feeling is quite mutual." All you have is his voice, yet you can say without a doubt that he's beaming, a subtlety only you'll ever know— one of the many which compose the love between the two of you.

"Keep working." You whisper as a yawn claws out of your throat.

"Are you sure? Are you okay now?"

You nod, though he can't see it. "I am. Just listening to you helps a lot."

"I'm glad."

"Do your best at work, okay? And make sure you stay safe on the way home?" You hold back a grin, even though you're alone in your shared bedroom. "I have a surprise for you when you get home."

Kento piques with curiosity. "Really?"

"Yup, I think you'll love it." You stare at your bedside table, where tickets to Malaysia were stored. "I hope you do, at least."

"If it's coming from you of course I'll love it sweetheart." It's miraculous really, how you've been together for so long yet you have to suppress the urge to squeal over his sweet words. "My boss is going to start making me work again, good night darling. Sweet dreams, love."

You fall asleep with ease that night, this time with welcomed thoughts of spending time with Kento on the shore of Kuantan, running around whilst cherishing the cold, salty water licking at your ankles; rather than the intrusive thoughts from earlier.

"You could've kept talking to them. I wouldn't've told anyone even if it took a lot of time."

Fushiguro Megumi is examining the sharpness of his blade when he reassures his teacher Nanami Kento, not looking up from his weapon, seated by the railing of the bridge.

"I appreciate that, but it'd be wrong of you." He moves his shoulders in circles, loosening his tie to wrap it around his knuckles. "I can teach you other methods."

"Pardon?"

Nanami crouches in front of Megumi. "Your breathing changed when I told them how to." The student doesn't respond. "It varies from person to person, I've tested out a lot."

Megumi still doesn't answer, averting his gaze towards the weapon that he held down.

"Fushiguro - kun. Are you scared?"

The younger finally speaks once more. "... I guess." Hesitation presents itself in his words, barely stable and his reluctance to maintain eye contact. "I won't let that stop me from completing my tasks—"

"It's okay. You're merely sixteen, you're not even old enough to drink, nor get your driver's licence."

Megumi returns to silence.

"Look at me." And so Megumi does. "To be a child is not a sin. I'm perfectly fine with withdrawing you from this operation if it's too much."

"Wouldn't that get you in trouble?"

Indeed he would. He'd tolerate plenty of discipline and anger from the higher ups. But Nanami Kento knows too well what it's like to risk you and your peers for a 'greater good', at nonetheless a ridiculously young age too—an age where you're supposed to go to regular school and be regular, stupid kids figuring themselves out; not witnessing the death of the ones dear to your heart with the sight of their corpses forever imprinted into your mind, nor have the stench of blood memorised meticulously instead of historical dates or mathematical formulas.

If it were up to him, he'd prohibit such exploitation of children. None should be performing such tasks, even if born with an advantageous cursed technique.

If the higher ups adopted the same philosophy as him, Haibara would be alive and well, and Nanami wouldn't feel his stomach lurch whenever he sees a bowl of rice, nor flinch whenever he hears the mention of Geto Suguru. 

'I don't mind if it means you'll be at ease. Gojo can protect me, and if I'm unable to extract you from this operation then I'll handle everything."

Megumi takes a deep breath. "I shouldn't run away. I'll do my best. I have Tsumiki I need to return to. We should go find Itadori now."

“If you say so then, but it’s still my duty to protect you.” With a final, strong tug he tightens his tie around his knuckles. “I can't guarantee any results, not in this instable world and career. What I can promise, is that I will protect you with my life."

A determined nod from Megumi is all he needs.

Quick and efficient; that's the plan. Shibuya was already a mess, and all he wanted was the security of your arms within the four walls he calls 'home'.

"Thank you for having us."

Megumi, the one with the messy, black hair speaks coldly, though very politely, his manners were courteous and so was Yuuji. They'd come to your door and introduced themselves as interns at Kento's company. Now, they were seated in your living room, on your couch.

"Don't mention it, Ken's always been fond of the interns." You already miss him, he must've stayed overnight at the company again. "Are you okay with first names?"

Both nod.

You smile. "So, Yuuji, Megumi, what have you come here for?"

Yuuji speaks first. "It's about Nanamin, I mean Nanami—"

Without malicious attempt you cut him off. "Nanamin is fine, I overheard you calling him that last night. He was fond of it, it was quite cute after all." You chuckle to yourself at it. 

The boy swallows, appearing apprehensive. He sounded so enthusiastic last night, perhaps he was the type who needed to warm up towards people first.

"Well, um."

You don't say anything, giving him time to respond comfortably.

"Nanami sensei passed away last night." Megumi finishes what Yuuji couldn't.

Your heart drops.

Temptation to make an accusation of a prank attempts to claw out of your throat, but with how their expressions scream nausea and discomfort, it'd be rude to do so.

That explained why he never kept his promise of finishing up on chores, knowing Kento he would’ve done everything to make sure he made it home to do as he said he would. 

"What happened?" It doesn't feel right— and it isn't at all, but you have to figure out the truth, even if this all doesn't seem real.

"There was a fire." Yuuji whispers, barely loud enough and coherent with the tremble of his voice. "And he didn't make it out in time."

You remain silent, so does Megumi. Yuuji bites his lip, suppressing what seemed to be a sob.

"I see."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. If only—" It drowns out in his bawling. "It was my fault. He—"

He completely lacked incoherency now, hiccuping as tears rolled down his cheeks.

"He helped us first." Megumi once again continues Yuuji's words. "But they recovered his body, we brought you his ashes."

He pulls out a package from his shoulder bag, wrapping it to reveal a pale blue funerary urn. Megumi places it onto the table.

"I'm sorry. If I had been capable of protecting myself he wouldn't've died saving me."

Your gaze meets Megumi’s, you're too afraid to properly acknowledge the urn, where your boyfriend was supposedly resting.

Silence permeates the air, Yuuji bites his sleeve to suppress his crying and Megumi breathes shakily.

"Don't apologise. You have no reason to. Neither of you." You've barely known the two, but the way Yuuji was sobbing broke your heart, and how both seemed to genuinely believe they caused Kento's passing. "It's not your fault. I don't think it is, and he would agree with him. He made the choice to help you, because he cared deeply for both of you. You can cry freely, I won't stop you." You muster a smile, hoping it'll be comforting in some sort of way. They're only kids, they can't be blaming themselves for the death of another they didn't cause.

Yuuji's teeth release the sleeve of his hoodie, hiccuping out what sounded like a thank you. You push a tissue box towards him, to which he accepts the offer.

"You idiot…” Megumi sniffles a bit.

“It’s okay, you’re going to be fine.” You pat him on the back, rubbing it too. You give him your phone, opening a new contact. “I’d like to invite you two to the funeral, can I have your contact details? In the meantime I’ll make some tea.”

You earn a nod, and are quick to retreat into the kitchen, hand holding your mouth shut as you slowly cry, pleading for Yuuji and Megumi to be unable to hear. 

"Kento! We're here, at Kuantan!"

After a long flight and travel, you finally arrived at your destination, you had dropped your luggage off at the accommodation, the urn Megumi had given you was held up against your chest.

I've always wanted to go to Kuantan, in Malaysia. One day I'd like to build a house on a secluded beach and live there. Of course with you, if you were okay with it.

You take off your sandals, tossing them away as you approach the shoreline, the coolness of the water catching you off guard. You continue walking, until it reaches halfway up your calves.

Off goes the lid of the urn, and you toss the ashes into the beach, watching the waves swallow Kento whole. It's not long before the urn is empty, you've never had to scatter someone's ashes, yet it felt like something was missing.

In all honesty, you have no idea if Kento wanted to be cremated, you've never touched on the subject of death, probably because the two of you were so young.

But something tells you this is the right decision. Kuantan's beautiful, and he wanted to go when work and money permitted him to do so. He'd loved to read a book under the shade of that large tree over there, and would've wanted to try fishing at the rock ledge nearby. It was just the two of you here, even better.

Fuck.

As you watch him swim into the ocean, you notice the tears threatening to spill. You don't bother trying to avoid it, not that you would've been able to.

"It's not fair!" You yell, out into the ocean. You don't blame Yuuji, or Megumi, or anyone, but you're still livid. "I miss you, I miss you so much that it gets hard to breathe."

The ring box feels heavy in your pocket.

"If you had to leave this world early you could've done it later." Your cry becomes a sob. "Just one month, then I could've fucking proposed. I don't need a honeymoon or marriage, I just want your fucking answer."

In an ideal world, you'd like to think that he would've accepted without hesitation, but that fantasy doesn't compare to the pain of remaining oblivious to his answer forever.

"Who's going to comfort me now? Who am I going to spend the rest of my life with? Who am I going to cook dinner with? What about Yuuji and Megumi? They had to finish their internships without you. Do you know how hard Yuuji cried when he came to tell me you passed away?"

By no means are you mad at Kento, you could never. But anger that slowly accumulated in your heart for the past few months, and had erupted. The empty coldness of your bed stings, and the amount of cutlery required being halved overwhelms you with misery. You can’t even laugh at his high school photos anymore, the amusement from his ridiculous haircut can’t triumph over the fact that he had passed away a mere ten years later. 

You’d much rather store it all away, each and every possession and photo of the man. The sight of his favourite mug serves as a harsh reminder that morning coffee with him will never happen. Listening to old voice mails seemed reassuring and almost lulled you to sleep, until you had to come to terms that he was truly gone once more. 

But at least sound can be captured.

What about his scent? Eventually his clothes would lose their scent, they probably were already on that course, even with your refusal to wash them. Touch can’t be preserved, you can cling onto the memory of your skin against his for as long as you want, but you’ll never truly experience it again.

“Goodbye Kento!” Despite your miserable state you pull yourself together just enough so you can see him off with a smile. “I love you, so so much. More than anything in the world, I always will! Thank you, for being there. Th-thank you for loving me.”

You've lost the energy to yell, throat now hoarse. You venture deeper into the shore, not caring about your clothes getting wet, as your face gets soaked with your own tears.

Who's fault is it? Was it the culprit of the fire (if there was one)? Or perhaps yours, for not proposing earlier. Maybe then he would've been safe and sound in Kuantan, after taking leave. Perchance it was the heavens deciding they’d rather just not authorise him to spend the rest of his name.

Whoever it was, it doesn't matter. Nothing could bring back the warmth of Nanami Kento. 

taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins, @pokkomi, @chigirizzz

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

[yeaimsafiya]

CHAPTER ONE back from rehab

SYNOPSIS the beginning of a teenage girl named y/n who is fresh out of rehab but doesn't intend to stay clean.

FROM THE WRITER AHH IM SORRY IM LATE GUYS!! This is the first chapter I'm ever writing, I took some inspo from episode 1 but I'm going to have to cut each episode into fourths because I really don't want to spend a whole week trying to finish a whole episode and school work. But I hope you guys really enjoy this chapter as much as I did - Love you guys, Sapiyah <3

WARNINGS Lots of unnecessary writing, female! reader, mentions of drugs and drinking, strong sexual content, nudity, violence, adult content, adult language, scenes might be uncomfortable for some, some scenes might include mentions of mental illness'

SERIES EUPHORIA

CHARACTERS INCLUDED members of the bakusquad & dekusquad, big three(?), some characters of class 1A

NOTES MDNI! Ageless blogs will be blocked or removed.

Readers discretion is advised

Suddenly, the whole world goes dark and nothing else matters except the person standing in front of you.

You were once happy. Content.

Sloshing and swimming around your own private, primordial pool; Then one day, for reasons beyond your control, you were continuously and repeatedly crushed...

Over..and over.. again by the cervix of your mother, M/n.

You put up a good fight, but eventually lost, for the first time, but not the last.

You were born 3 days after 9/11, your mother and father spent two days in the hospital, holding you under the soft glow of the television, watching those towers fall over and over again, until the feeling of grief gave away to numbness.

And then, without warning, a middle-class childhood in the American suburbs.

|

You were sitting at the dinner table with your mother, M/n, and Father, F/n. But it appeared something else had gotten your attention, a set of numerous lights above the dinner table, in which you wanted to count.

"Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen.."

" What are you looking at y/n?"

"..."

"What are you doing? ..Y-y/n look at me."

"One, two, three, .."

"What are you doing Y/n?"

*cries*

|

"Id say she's suffering from obsessive compulsive disorder..."

Its not like you were physically abused..

"...attention deficit disorder..."

..Or had some type of clean water storage..

"..general anxiety disorder.."

..Or was molested by a family member.

"..and possibly bipolar disorder. But she's a little bit too young to tell."

So, explain this shit to me.

|

"Honey, it's just the way your brain was hardwired; Plenty of great, intelligent, funny, interesting and creative people have struggled with the same things you struggle with."

"Like who?"

"Vincent Van Gogh, Sylvia Plath, and even Brittney Spears, your favorite!"

You haven't remembered much from the ages of eight to twelve. Just that the world moved fast, and your mind moved slow.

"Does anyone have an idea of what a perception might be?"

And every now and then, if you focused on the way you breathed...

You'd die.

"Slow down, just breathe"

Until every second of the day, you'd find yourself trying to outrun your anxiety.

"What's wrong Y/n?"

..And quite frankly..

"I'm just fucking exhausted"

|

Coming down to the kitchen, you could hear the small talk between your mother and younger sister, S/N.

"You said the doctor was in our network. How can he suddenly be out of network?"

"I can't afford it."

"Did you see that video of the girl who got acid thrown at her face?"

"What? No.."

"It's pretty fucked up.."

"Mom do you know where the tampons are?"

"In my bathroom, right under the sink."

And at one point, you'd make a choice of who you are and what you want.

"Alright Gia, let's go"

"Why do the co-payments cost $300?"

"Y/n did you eat breakfast?"

".."

"What's with the glasses?"

"What glasses?"

You just happened to show up one day, without a map or a compass..

"Attention students, we need to lockdown."

..Or to be honest, anyone capable of giving on iota of good fucking advice.

And I know it all seems sad but guess what? You did not build this system up, nor fuck it up yourself.

But then it happens. That moment where your breath starts to slow. And every time you breathe, you breathe out all the oxygen you have.

Then everything stops: Your heart, your lungs, then finally, your brain. And everything you feel, you wish, and want to forget, it all just sinks.

And then suddenly... you give it air again, give it life again.

You remember the first time it happened, where you were so scared you wanted to call 911. Go to the hospital and be kept alive by machines and apple juice. But you didn't want to look like an idiot, and you didn't want to fuck up everyone else's night.

And now overtime, that's all you've wanted.. those two seconds of nothingness.

You spent a good portion of summer before junior year in rehab. God granted you the serenity to accept things you cannot change, the courage to change the things you can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

"Y/N," your sister yelled from afar, greeting you after your long leave. You smiled, and whilst running up to her, tried to continue the conversation with your younger sibling.

"Hey, Come here!"

"How are you?"

"Good, I missed you."

"I missed you too."

"Look at you, are you growing?"

"No."

Looking over, you see your mother standing by your family car.

"Hey," you yelled out to her, only to receive a small smile from her.

And with that. you knew it was your time to go.

|

"I'm very happy for you Y/n. You're about to start a brand-new chapter," Your mother says while driving you and your sister to school. You looked at her with a smile, then turned your attention back to the car window.

You had no intentions of staying clean. And yet, Jirou just moved into town.

"There's some new girl in town that I think you'll be friends with," Shoto said, with you standing beside him in his store.

"Who?"

"Shit, I don't know. She came in looking all punk rock and shit; So I'm thinking to myself, like, 'look like somebody Y/n would be friends with'."

Which was sort of a dead-on observation for Shoto, who's not normally revolving in the same direction as planet earth.

"So how long have you been back?" He asked.

"About five days."

"And how are you feeling?"

"I mean, ever since I gave my life over to my lord and savior Jesus Christ, things have been, like, really good."

"Word? That's what's up," You chuckled at his snarky remark, giving him a small smile.

"I'm fucking with you," you said whilst laughing, "It was a joke."

"Shit, hey, I don't judge," he defended, hands raising to just above his chest.

"But for real, is Deku in the back?"

"Are you serious?" Shoto questioned, seeming very disappointed in you.

"What, you think cause' I went to rehab I stayed clean?"

"I mean, ain't that the point?" he asks.

"Yeah, well, the world is coming to an end, and I haven't even graduated high school yet."

You gave Shoto one more smile before going to Deku, whilst Shoto stared at you the entire way there; There was a hint of sadness in his eyes, but since you were too busy looking for Deku, you didn't see.

You opened one of the doors of the refrigerators, leading you right to him with a bowl of fruit loops,"I thought your ass was dead," he said one he saw your appearance.

"And I thought you had Asperger's till I realized your just a prick," you barked back.

"This a fickle industry, y'all come and go. I'm just trying to stack my cash, pay off our mortgage," he said while pulling out a bunch of plastic bags out of a microwave.

"So what the fuck do you want?" You gave him a knowing look before he handed you needed.

"You sure you don't want to try something new?" He asks you.

"Like what?"

"2C-T-2, 2C-T-7, and 5-MeO-DIPT."

"I'm sorry I have no fucking idea of what you just said."

"It doesn't matter," he stated, "but this shit, is fucking lit."

"What is it?"

"N-diisopropyl-5-methoxytryptamine. It's a fast-acting psychedelic."

Got some similarities to LSD, but with, like, key differences. Not as visual as shit, but definitely a sense distorter.

"What's wrong?" That same dark purple hair girl questioned.

"I'm just so happy," you responded back.

"I don't know, this shits been going off in Tampa, and mad people like to fuck with this," Deku continued on with his descriptions with the drug.

"Okay. Yeah, why not."

"That'll be 120."

"Oh uh, Shoto said he'd spot me."

"Shoto doesn't spot nobody."

"Yeah, well, it's a post-rehab discount, so you should ask him."

"I will go ask him, cause' I know your full of shit."

Those were the last words he said before you walked out. Those were the last words you heard before you saw the same two boys in freshman year.

Bakugo and Kirishima.

TAGLIST: (send an ask or reply to add or remove) @urinejaeger, @saturxnn, @lv9su, @minnipe, @flamgosstuff, @lilrockzstar, @actfsgxcv, @lovebuggyboo, @russochild19, @iits-lexie, @mendez5657, @animatronicrat, @thirstygorl, @scrittynotfound, @pleaseleavemebelol, @thymebread, @cocojellie, @vxnanaaa-blog, @tn-johnson, @knotatwink, @hpttstears, @blackcatluna, @queennb-123, @nndntahg

All work is subject to copyright by © yeaimsapiyah as of 2024.

Do not steal, use or reupload my work without given permission or my consent. If so, you will either be blocked, removed, or reported.

[roseandpeaches]

Clingy Baby

Mingyu x fem!oc (no names were mentioned)

Word count: 321

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none i guess

Author's Note: Gose got to me, him being clingy and his tendency to hug people tells me he loves to cuddle. I'm stuck with husband Mingyu constantly in my mind.

Mingyu had always been a heavy sleeper. His eight alarm clocks served as proof. Ever since he got married to a light sleeper, he was always on time for his schedules. His wife made sure he woke up by the first alarm because it irritated her like crazy when he slept through them all. Another thing changed as well after marriage—Mingyu had gotten used to having his wife next to him, her plush body by his side gave him comfort.

He would always whine when she tried to escape his cuddles, "You're like a furnace, Mingyu. I have enough body heat to keep me warm." What could he do? He was a clingy man who loved physical affection. He loved being close to his wife.

So, when he was deep in sleep, his body could somehow sense his wife wasn't next to him. He slowly regained consciousness, his arm reached for his wife, and indeed, he felt an empty spot that was slowly losing its warmth. Still heavy with sleep, he managed to put on his pants and went to look for her. It didn't take him long to find the balcony door open.

"Can't sleep, love?" his thick voice rasped. She turned and let out a small laugh, seeing Mingyu's hair in disarray.

He tended to move a lot in his sleep, which made her insist they get a bed bigger than a king-size bed before they got married. Mingyu, clingy Mingyu, had whined, "Then you'll be far away from me!"

"Honey, your long legs sometimes hit mine when you're asleep. Your arms would get in my face too." He pouted, the biggest pout she had ever seen because he knew she was right and he didn't want to hurt his wife. So he relented and bought a California king bed.

"Yeah, I felt uncomfortable. I tried changing positions and placed a few pillows here and there, but they just annoyed me even more. I thought I might as well try to catch the sunrise, so here I am," his wife sighed. He knew that lately she hadn't been able to sleep well. The doctor had warned her that it would disrupt her hormones and her blood pressure. Mingyu felt bad because he could fall asleep easily while his wife struggled to do so. She had to take a break from work when it got worse and he decided to reduce his schedule to take care of her.

He rested his head in the crook of her shoulder and gently pressed a kiss there. "I'm sorry, honey. I feel bad seeing you like this."

"You didn't do anything. It's not your fault you can conk out in a second."

"But it kinda is my fault you can't sleep," his large frame enveloped her from behind, bending slightly. He wrapped his arms around her heavy belly. "I made you like this."

Amused, she agreed, "Well yeah, you did do this to me, so stay here with me. The sun's coming up soon."

"Gladly," he smiled.

"I'm surprised you even woke up."

Mingyu shrugged, "My husband senses tingled. I could tell you weren't next to me."

She shook her head, already accepting that the father of her child could never sleep without her, just like she couldn't when he was away for his schedules. She was just as clingy, but she'd never admit to that. Though their bed had enough space for both of them to sleep comfortably on their own sides, they'd always somehow manage to gravitate to the middle of the bed.

[strangersteddierthings]

Porcelain Steve - Part 6

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine

Even though he's expecting company, Eddie still jumps and yelps when his front door flies open without so much as a knock, revealing Dustin and Will.

"I know I said to let yourselves in, but a warning knock would have been nice," Eddie shoots them a glare, not bothering to stand from the couch where he'd been pretending to watch whatever terrible daytime movie was playing.

"Sorry," Will apologizes sheepishly while Dustin just laughs.

"Which of your moms dropped you off? If it's Claudia, I'm filing a complaint about how you were raised."

"Har har," Dustin says, swinging his backpack off and knelling down to unzip and dig into it. "We biked here."

"Lucky you, then. The complaint will wait."

Dustin wrestles a blanket from his backpack. Unwrapping it reveals Steve, hair rumpled but otherwise unharmed. "Alright. Delivered safely. We gotta go meet El and Mike now but we'll see you on Saturday, right?"

Eddie sets Steve on the couch, angled towards the TV. "Yeah. I get the feeling if I don't show for the barbeque that Joyce will show up here and drag me there by my ear."

"She would," Will confirms with an easy shrug. The boys turn to leave before Will exclaims, "Oh! Almost forgot!" before digging into his pocket for something, turning around to give it to Eddie.

"What?"

"El and Steve spoke again. He had a lot of things to say. I spent a good portion of the last three days writing down everything as El repeated it to me. This is your letter," he says, having successfully pulled out what looked to be a folded piece of paper out of his pocket.

"Oh," Eddie takes it, and realizes it's not just one folded piece of paper, but three. "Wow."

"Seems you are Steve's second favorite," Dustin grins at him from the doorway.

"You are first, I assume?"

"No. Robin is. She got five pages."

That tracks, actually. Eddie's not surprised Robin got the most pages.

Soon enough, the boys are off and Eddie returns to the couch, pulling his legs up to sit crisscross. "Alright, Stevie, let's see what you have to say."

He unfolds the pages completely and is met with Will's now familiar penmanship scrawled across the sheets of wide rule paper that has clearly been ripped from a composition notebook. He's seen Will's handwriting plenty over this last year, quickly scribbling notes during DnD sessions and on the little item cards Will makes himself to hand out when he DMs.

Will's handwriting isn't always the neatest, but this looks like Will took time, wanted his writing to be legible. Flipping through the papers he sees it is two pages, front and back, of a letter, and the third page is a list of questions in a different, neater handwriting. He gets the feeling that Will probably didn't paraphrase anything. How many people got letters? How much of Will and El's time was devoted to doing just this?

Eddie feels emotional over this, misty-eyed and a lump in his throat, and he hasn't even read the damn letter yet.

"Shit, Stevie, do you even realize how loved you are?" Eddie asks out loud, turning to look at Porcelain Steve like he might answer him this time. Blank hazel eyes stare forward. Eddie shakes his head, to clear away his thoughts, and gets to reading. Not out loud, because he doesn't want Steve to hear how wet his voice will sound.

Eddie,

I guess the first thing I want to say is thank you. I was kind of freaking out when I first woke up like this. It was calming, that day on the lawn, after Robin and Nancy found me. You were so chill and just chatted my ear off like you would have if I were, like, there. I mean, there there and not like, doll-there, if you get what I mean.

Shit, man, being stuck like this would have been a hell of a lot worse without you, I'm certain. Everyone's been great, of course, and, like, no offense meant, Will and El, but you act most normal. Helps me feel, well, I don't know how, exactly. Describing emotions is not something I'm like, good at. Robin's great, too, but she catastrophizes, you know? And since I can't speak back, she can get herself pretty worked up about this and I hate that. Hate that I can't do anything to help her.

Shit. This isn't your issue. Don't include that. No, wait, do. Sorry, El. (It is here, off in the margin, that Will has added 'I wrote everything word for word. Enjoy the asides to El and me.) Hanging out with you helps her, I think. She seems less anxious on days we spend with you. So, I guess, I also want to thank you for that. For being there for Robin when I can't.

Eddie has to pause there because he had no idea. Robin has been a grounding force for him this whole time. He had no idea he was doing the same for her. She never said, or let on... well, that was probably her goal and now Steve's spilled the beans.

This is getting easier to say, even if I still don't know how to feel about the other two people who are going to be privy to everything said, or I guess from your end, written here. (Here, Will has transcribed a conversation they seemed to have had in the middle of writing this up.) Oh. He means us. - El Yes. Don't worry Steve, we'll do our best to forget everything you've said once it's written down. - Will Steve laughed and says thanks. - El I appreciate that but- well, being honest there's some things I want to say but I don't want anyone else to hear. Those conversations are better left face to face, anyway. So, uhh, what else did I want to say?

Oh! Yeah, I told Robin she could drive around the Bimmer, so she can have a car while I'm- so she doesn't have to bike everywhere but knowing her she probably won't take me up on that offer. Maybe you can talk her into it? Or, maybe she'll be willing to drive your van around and you can take the bimmer.

"Jesus, Stevie, can't you just be okay with existing?" Eddie says it under his breath and tenses instantly. For a moment, he forgot that Steve was right there on the couch with him, could hear him. Now he has to explain himself because Steve's already heard, and without the context of how Eddie really means those words, they can sound judgmental. "Shit. Sorry. I just read the part about your car and, dude, you just don't know how to not try and be helpful, huh? I bet it's destroying you on the inside that you can't do anything. But Steve, you gotta know, we don't care about you because you're useful."

Steve, of course, can't reply, so Eddie goes back to the letter.

Uh, what else was there? Oh! Yeah! I don't get migraines here. Or, in this body? Or, whatever it is. I haven't had one since this happened. Also, no hearing issues. Though I find myself wishing to be completely deaf sometimes. I get that Max can listen to Kate Bush for a week straight, but I'd like a little variety. God, what I wouldn't give to listen to the Top 40 again. Don't say anything, Munson. I can already see your judgmental face at my music taste. Unlike you, I have the ability to like multiple types of music. The Top 40 AND that one song from, uhh, shit. Might not have migraines or hearing issues at the moment, but the memory is still as it was. Which means it is shit. That one song by that metal band where their name sounds like it's metal? You know who I mean. (In the margin, Will has just written five little question marks in a row ?????)

"The band you were thinking of, it's Metallica," Eddie says.

Not important. But, uh, the reason for telling you this. I was hoping you might smuggle me to a show the next time your band plays at the Hideout? Last time I tried to go it was too loud and gave me a migraine, you remember, but I think that I could listen to your whole show like this. We might as well take advantage of the perks of this shit situation, right? So, uh, I wouldn't mind if you did that. Or, like, had Robin or someone else bring me. Whichever.

Actually, wait, I lied, I do care which way. I've already had them pen down Robin's letter, so you'll have to pass this on, but I want Robin to take me. So, I can also watch the show, not just listen. That was the part I liked most, when I went last time, before I had to leave. Wait. Scratch that. Ask Argyle. Other than you, he seems like the only person willing to be caught holding me in public, mostly because I don't think he even knows how to be embarrassed. Jesus that was such a weird sentence to say. Holding me in public. Such a weird thing to experience, too.

Uh, anyway, I think that's it for now. Thanks for everything, Eddie.

"I think you're handling this loss of bodily autonomy rather well, Steve. This letter is a lot more positive than the one I would have written if our roles were reversed," Eddie says with a sigh. He can't help but wonder what Steve would have said in this letter if it hadn't had to be filtered through two teenagers first.

He looks to the last page, the list of questions, and is surprised to see that, mixed in with questions about which sports team is winning (he is not going to watch Sportsball for Steve. There has to be a line drawn somewhere and this is it. He will ask Wayne about it later and hate the glee he sees in his uncle's eyes because now he's going to have to pretend to like sports for the unforeseeable future) and for honest updates about their friends are questions about Eddie's campaign that he's rambled on about since Steve can't escape. Steve wants spoilers, wants to know what Eddie has planned.

Steve has actually been listening. He'd been operating on the assumption Steve just tunes him out when he gets going, unable to stop his brain to mouth filter when it comes to talking about Dungeons and Dragons and his current campaign.

"I'm at your list of questions now. I can't answer anything about sports, and don't think I'm unaware of how you asked me and not Lucas. I see what you are doing and I'm not going to fall for it. So, your first non-sportsball question here; How is Dustin doing, really? Well, that's a whole thing but overall, okay."