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jadeittic · 13 days
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nonidol!jeong yunho x f!reader
yunho might have been the superstar out of the two of you, but you have always been the center of his universe. (you — it's always been you.)
▷ genre, warnings. bffs2l, childhood friends 2 lovers, pining, popstar/singer au, swearing, fluff, humor, angst, hurt/comfort, kissing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of anxiety/nervousness, they physically cannot be apart for too long sorry they've got Attachment Issues low-key..., one kiss (is all it takes—)
▷ word count. 16.3k (guys,, this was supposed to be only like 6-8k i swear 😭)
▷ associated tunes. keep smiling (demxntia), gone too long (lullaboy), tear in my heart (twenty-one pilots)
a/n: hope u guys like this :'))) i had one of the scenes from here stuck in my brain for awhile and so i had to build the rest of the fic around it, and it turned into this monster, so uhm yes... also much love to @jaehunnyy tysm for reading thru it for me 💖
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THE DAY YUNHO'S ALBUM hit the Billboard Hot 100, you knew that you were going to need a lot more hands on deck than just you, your roommate, and Jeong Yunho himself.
“There's not enough albums, not enough time in the day, not enough of you!” You exclaimed with your fingers shoved into your hair as you took in the landscape of chaos before you on your living room floor. “Yunho, why couldn't you be ambidextrous?”
His eyes widened, body frozen where he was shoving a slice of beef jerky into his mouth. “Mwe? Pwhy are pyu yellinh ap mwe por?”
“I'm not yelling at you; I'm just wondering why you weren't born with eight arms instead of just two.” There were simply too many albums for him to sign before his agent came to pick them up in two hours, and there were also too few albums for the amount of demand. You always knew your best friend would make it big one day, but you also thought he would have had a whole team by that time.
Technically, you were his team—you, your roommate Trinity, and Mingi who was at his grandmother's for the long weekend. Mingi was five texts away from driving back down to help you guys four hours ago though. But his family needed him right now, and Yunho was firm in ensuring Mingi didn't have to come down and help. We got this, he'd said. It'll be easy, he also said.
Sure. Easy.
“We can't just forge his signature?” Trinity joked in a sleep-deprived daze as she leaned back against the couch cushions. Her mouth opened wide in a yawn. “I'm kidding. Let's not ruin his career.”
Yunho swallowed his bite. “That would be nice.” He cleaned his fingers on the Wet Wipe he had handy by his thigh, then picked up his black Sharpie, spinning the writing utensil between his fingers. “Now where were we? Album number fifty-six—?”
This had taken place just four months after Yunho released his second album, Aurora. It had been nearly a year and a half since Yunho debuted himself onto the music scene, and it was about time people finally began to recognize your best friend for all that he was—multi-talented, charismatic, handsome (on some occasions; you wouldn’t let him catch you slipping up there, though).
Within the next year and a half, Yunho skyrocketed into further altitudes of fame.
There were plenty of changes that occurred, many evolutions to Yunho's team and additions to his discography, but you were always a part of it. Even with your own career dealings, you would drop anything to be there for him, and him for you. Between the morning show interviews and late night recording sessions, there were also the research presentations and study session pick-me-ups.
“Are you sure you don't wanna come with?” You asked from where you were stationed in front of the bathroom mirror, putting on the final touches for your look this evening.
You could hear Trinity's fingers clacking away at her keyboard at the speed of light through her open bedroom door. “I'd love to, but I unfortunately did screw myself over by procrastinating on this paper. Have fun though, and tell Yunho congrats for me.”
Tonight was the album release party for Yunho's third full studio album entitled Youth. It was something he had been working on for years now, only recently having become satisfied with the tracks he chose and produced for it. Due to his sudden rise in fame, the release party was said to be hosting a myriad of big name celebrities and figures in the music industry. And of course, you. You were no one special, in hindsight, but Yunho couldn't begin to imagine celebrating a milestone without you by his side.
By eight o'clock, you were ready to head out.
You bid Trinity goodbye as you hustled out the front door of your apartment and down to the street below. Yunho and Mingi and everyone else would already be at the party; you would arrive on your own via Uber. You wished you could've been with him to get ready like all the other times, but your schedule had been unfortunate as of late. You were lucky enough to have gotten off of work this early.
As you sat in the backseat of your ride, you anxiously fidgeted with your phone in your lap.
(You were, without a doubt, excited to arrive at the party. Due to yours and Yunho's ever-busy and ever-conflicting schedules nowadays—yours because of work and PhD candidacy stuff, Yunho's because of rehearsals for his upcoming world tour—it had been awhile since you were able to hang out in person. You missed your gentle giant of a best friend.)
A loud vibration from it made your heart leap into your throat, and your face lit up in the dark with the incoming notification.
rockstar 🤟: pls tell me you've left the house
You snorted and typed out a swift reply. If I told you I was still in my pajamas…
rockstar 🤟: then i would call u a liar cuz u don't go to work in pjs, weirdo rockstar 🤟: just getting antsy tbh rockstar 🤟: need my star here w me :’)))
You couldn't help the touched pout that came to your face. I'm almost there, don't worry. And who are you calling a star when that's you? He always got a little sappy when he was nervous.
rockstar 🤟: im literally not having fun here without u hurry up :// your phone: isn't this UR album release party 😭 yun, why aren't u having fun? rockstar 🤟: just hurry up your phone: aish okok 🤧 eta 8min mr. impatient
You knew it was the jitters making him say things like that. Once you got there, you hoped you could help reassure him that he could stop worrying for just a second to enjoy himself. Even if Yunho worried about the album and what people thought, you were just as nervous. You hadn't even heard the entire thing—he’d been cheeky and didn't tell you he added a song to it last minute, but you'd listened to everything else.
You just hoped that people would continue to celebrate him and give him the love he deserved.
When your Uber driver pulled into the drop off loop at the front of the venue, you thanked him on your way out and threw the strap of your small purse over your shoulder. Already, however, as you were met with the residuals of flashing camera lenses and frantic paparazzi calls just a little ways down the driveway, the anxiety slowly began to settle in the pit of your stomach.
You could see the celebrities going up the entrance with people asking them to pose for their cameras, to say a word into their recorders.
Immediately, you turned on your heel and began slipping your way to a side entrance. The last thing you wanted was for dozens upon dozens of people to be staring at you, wondering who you were and why you were important. There were definitely people who knew you—you were plastered all over Yunho's social media because that was just what best friends did. But compared to everyone else walking up that driveway? Not a chance. You were nobody, and that was ay-okay to you.
Just as you thanked one of the employees coming out the side door for letting you in, you felt your phone buzz in your hand again, this time with an incoming call.
You picked it up and squeezed it between your ear and shoulder. “You're gonna need to speak up—the kitchen is super loud.”
“You're here finally!” Yunho said to you through the phone. “I was starting to get worried.”
You chuckled as you ducked out of the kitchen and into the main lobby to get to the elevators. The party was taking place somewhere on the seventh floor… if you could get there without getting lost. “Hey Yun, do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Calm down, man.”
The elevator sang its arrival and you stepped inside to the sound of Yunho sucking in a deep breath, then exhaling slowly. “I am calm… wait, are you in the lobby? Let me come down and get y—”
“I just got in the elevator, so don't worry—and I really don't think you should be leaving your own party, rockstar,” you teased. “Man, Mingi and Hwa really pulled out all the stops for this place,” you marveled quietly as you gave the elevator carriage a thorough look. It was made of marble and mirrors, every surface polished and crisp, like that of a tailored suit if tailored suits were made of crystals.
“Yeah, it's really great,” he agreed. “Remember the release party we threw for Crescent?”
A fond laugh tumbled out of your lips as you stepped out of the elevator and onto the seventh floor. Your mind filled with memories of his debut album's release party hosted in yours and Trinity's living room with three extra large Domino's pizzas, root beer floats, and a cheap disco ball. It had been a party for four that night—you, Yunho, Mingi, and Trinity—but your friends didn't need the fancy shit to have fun. “Definitely leagues away from this.”
There was a bouncer at the far end of the hallway, and you were certain now that you were in the right place.
“I kind of miss it,” Yunho murmured. You heard the sound on his end shift, simultaneous to watching the doors in front of you crack open and see Yunho's head pop out into the empty hallway.
“I kind of miss it, too,” you said into the phone, your eyes locked on his and a smile blooming over your features at the sight of your best friend, in the flesh.
There was a tender gleam in his eyes as he took you in and said something in a low tone to the bouncer. He stepped out into the hallway, letting the doors behind him shut fully.
“Slowpoke,” was his greeting to you as he scooped you into his embrace. The smell of his cologne was something familiar and delicious, and permeated your senses.
“Worrywart,” you quipped back, wrapping your arms around him to reciprocate.
When you both pulled back, he kept you at arm's length so he could take a better look at you. “I can't believe you're calling me the worrywart! I do recall that one night when Aurora hit the Top 100—”
You silenced him with a look and a playful punch to his shoulder. You pressed your lips together to suppress a smile as he tilted his head back in a jovial laugh. “Quiet, you. For once, I can't believe you're more nervous than I am.”
He gave a sheepish grin, fussing with the unbuttoned collar of his dress shirt, adjusting the chain he wore on his collarbones so the clasp sat right at the hollow of his throat.
You softened. Oh, he was really nervous.
“This album's just big for me; you know that,” he said, almost like he was trying to brush it off.
“I do.” The two of you began slowly making your way back towards the party doors. “Though, I'm excited to hear this mystery song that you snuck on there. I'm sure everyone will fall in love with the album, just like I did.”
He peered over at you then, and you couldn't understand why you were unable to read his expression then. It was… different. “Really?”
You blinked. “Of course,” you replied automatically. “I mean,” you added, “it's you, Yun. What's not to love?”
Yunho seemed speechless for a second, but moments later, he was breaking into a soft-cornered smile. “You always know what to say, Yn. Come on, there are some people who are dying to meet you.”
“Dying to meet me?” You laughed as the bouncer let the two of you into the party.
The party room was a rented out lounge space with wraparound windows that looked out at the skyline in the valley below. The main lights were kept low and warm, illuminating strategic places throughout the space to highlight the prohibition-like interior design. It was something out of a 1920s speakeasy with its velvet couches and dark mahogany wood finishes.
Yunho took you over toward the side of the room to get food first. There was a variety of snacks and small bites on the buffet table, and there was a bar counter shoved into the far corner where a bartender served drinks.
“I've pretty much socialized with everyone in this room already,” Yunho murmured to you as he shoved his hands into his pockets and grinned. “Meaning I can bug you for the rest of the night.”
Your eyebrows shot up. “There has to be, like, fifty people here. We still have the whole party left.”
“Yeah, but I have more fun with you anyway,” he said with a shrug. He reached for one of the little serving cups that held a little roll of rice armed with a slice of wagyu beef on top, all wrapped together with a strip of nori. “Now these—these are fucking amazing, dude. You have to try one.”
You snorted, but grabbed one of the little cups. “How many of these have you eaten already, Yun?”
He tapped his cup against yours like he was clinking glasses together. He chuckled, averting his gaze. “We don't have to talk about that…” His eyes caught onto someone nearby, and he perked up, shoving the entire bite into his mouth so he had a free hand to flag down whoever it was. “Mmh!”
You nearly choked on your own bite as you watched your best friend, who's cheeks were stuffed like a chipmunk's, flap his arm around in the air to get this person's attention because his mouth was currently occupied.
You turned your head to see who he was waving over, and nearly choked again, having to cup your hand over your mouth to prevent rice from falling out. Your eyes widened an alarming amount. “Mmno—!” You mumbled through your bite.
“What? I can't hear you,” he snickered. “Hongjoong hyung! There's someone I want you to meet.”
You made a crazed gesture—no, no, I'm not ready! How dare you ambush me with social interac—you swallowed the food in your mouth as Hongjoong made his way over. You had never met the famed Kim Hongjoong—legendary producer, prodigy musician, favorite model to ever strut down the Paris Fashion Week Runway. He dropped off the grid for a brief three-month hiatus until he suddenly reappeared, but in your best friend's Instagram story. At some point, Yunho had met Hongjoong and won his favor. Then again, it was easy for Yunho to win over anyone's favor.
No one really knew why Hongjoong disappeared like he had, but some speculate it had something to do with his new relationship status: single.
You were always starstruck seeing Hongjoong on Yunho and Mingi's social media, as well as Hongjoong's own platforms. Tonight was no exception.
Hongjoong's hair of the season was a simple light brown that complimented his skin tone and the warmth in his smile. You were used to seeing him in more extravagant garb, but tonight, he chose something very simple, but chic like Yunho.
Yunho and Hongjoong clasped hands in greeting. “What's up, man?” The latter chirped, eyes flickering over to you as you attempted to behave normally.
Yunho gestured toward you, his eyes twinkling as he swept his arm around your shoulders to bring you forward. “This is Yn. Yn, this is Hongjoong. He's the one who produced the album—”
“Now, don't downplay your own efforts, Yunho,” Hongjoong cut in with a knowing look. “You produced so much of it on your own; I fine-tuned and made a couple tracks, but the rest was all you, man.”
“I always tell him he's far too humble,” you agreed.
Hongjoong sent you a smile, extending his hand out. “Great minds think alike, Yn. It's very nice to meet the person this guy doesn't ever stop talking about.”
You laughed good-naturedly and saw Yunho's flushed sheepishness out of the corner of your eye. You shook Hongjoong's hand with a firm, confident grip. “Nice to meet you, too. You're—you’re incredible, by the way. I remember when Yunho posted a photo with you, and I literally screamed his ear off over the phone.”
Yunho winced and held a hand up to his ear, as if remembering the physical sensation of that phone call. “Yup, definitely damaged my eardrum that day.”
“Well, thank you; I'm flattered,” Hongjoong replied pleasantly. “So I'm assuming you've probably heard as much of the album as I have then?”
“I'm sure you've heard the whole thing,” you said. “Yunho has withheld one of the tracks from me, but I've listened to all the rest.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Oh? Which track did—oh.” As he and Yunho made eye contact, you watched as a silent understanding passed between them, and Hongjoong's mouth tugged upward in a teasing smile. “That song.”
You blinked. “What does that mean?”
Hongjoong flourished his hand as if to wave away the thought. “He just wanted it to be perfect, so we were working on it up to the last second. Nothing terribly concerning.”
Ah. You relaxed, but the curiosity still lingered in your mind's eye. “I'm sure it's great, nonetheless.”
“Oh yeah, you're gonna love—”
“Oh-kay! That's enough about the song,” Yunho chuckled nervously as he grabbed your shoulders and began steering you away from a clearly amused Hongjoong. “Let's go say hi to Mingi, hm?”
You threw him a look from over your shoulder, but went along with him toward wherever he'd seen Mingi wandering around. “What has gotten into you tonight?” You teased, though, you also hoped to know why he was so jittery. He wasn't even this nervous about dropping his debut album.
Yunho showed you a bright smile, the same kind of golden-retriever expression that the media knew him well for. It would have been enough if you didn't know him. “Again, it's an important album to me. And the song I added last minute is on the deluxe version, so I wasn't really confident in putting it on the original release.”
“Ah,” you murmured. You reached up to pat the hand that rested on your left shoulder reassuringly. “I'm sure it really is a great song, Yun, and I'm not just saying that. You can make an awful omelet, but you can't make an awful song.”
Your best friend bursted into laughter at the latter comment, and your heart soared to see the genuine smile on his face now. That was your Yunho shining through. “You're right—if I can't scramble eggs, at least I can write a song.”
Over the next hour and a half, Yunho took you on a tour around the room, jumping from friend to friend to introduce you to more of his world. For the most part, however, it felt like an excuse for you to bond with all his friends in teasing him about something or other. But he seemed content enough to see you getting along well with the other people close to him.
He had met plenty of your friends at your work, so it was only fair that you got the same opportunity.
At some point while you were with Wooyoung and San discussing all of the rehearsals for Yunho's upcoming world tour, Hongjoong summoned everyone's attention to announce that it was time to listen to the album. It would be a rather casual affair with the Youth album playing in the background of the party, but you were certain people would minimize their conversations to listen in.
You craned your neck to peer around the crowd to see where Yunho had gone off to. “Wait, guys, did you see where Yunho went?”
Wooyoung and San joined your search, but quickly hustled you into a nearby booth to sit and enjoy the album with your drinks. “He'll find us,” Wooyoung assured you as the three of you slipped into the leather seats. “He wouldn't miss this.”
“He'll at least be here by the last song,” San said offhandedly, his eyebrows wagging up and down.
Your lips parted, your face morphing into feigned offense. “Wait. Did he let you guys listen to the deluxe edition song, too?”
“Maybe,” Wooyoung giggled.
San cooed at your pout. “Awwh, don't take it to heart, Yn-ie. It was supposed to be a surprise for you.”
You raised your drink to your lips, sighing before taking a sip. “Everybody talks about this damn song as if he wrote it for me.”
Unbeknownst to you, the two others at the table exchanged pointed looks between one another when you were looking away. It was a wonder how Yunho was able to keep this all a secret from you. Though, even San and Wooyoung knew how busy you could get nowadays, so perhaps it really was just that easy. Plus, they had all at one point or another been privy to Yunho’s feelings—
“Speak of the Devil,” you perked up at the sight of your best friend emerging from the crowd with the others—Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Mingi, Jongho (vocal coach and album feature), and Yeosang (PR management)—in tow behind him. “We were wondering where you had gone off to.”
Yunho grinned as the lot of them squished into the circular seating arrangement with you, San, and Wooyoung. “Sorry, had to go round everyone up. The album should be queued up and ready to go.” He chose to sit on the end of the booth to your right while everyone else filled it up from the other side.
You offered him a sip of your drink, and he gladly took the glass from you. “So San and Woo were just telling me about how their tour prep is coming. You guys are leaving—what was it—two weeks from now?”
He hummed, smacking his lips as he set the glass back down on the table. “Yeah, it should be just about two weeks,” he said. His arm came up to rest against the back of the booth seat behind you. “You know, you can still come to the first stop with us…” This was said with a very pointed look at you from Yunho, followed by similar expressions from everyone else around the table.
“And you know that day’s when my supervisor holds quarterly meetings that are mandatory,” you shot back. As much as you hated the timing, the day that Yunho and the team planned to fly to their first stop on his world tour, you were required to be present for a very important meeting at work.
The Youth World Tour was something Yunho had been looking forward to and preparing for a long time. Besides working on the Youth album itself, his working hours extended over the past year or so to get ready for this major milestone. You would definitely be able to meet up with them at one of the tour stops, you just weren’t sure which one yet.
Things at your workplace were a little rocky as of late due to shifting management, but you would play it by ear. For your best friend, of course you would make it work somehow.
Your ears pricked up at the sound of strings strumming overhead and your heart leapt out of your ribcage for a moment. “Oh my god, I love this song.”
“You and me both, Yn,” Hongjoong chuckled across the table from you, reaching over so you could bump fists with him, “you’ve got good taste.”
“You’re only saying that because you wrote this one specifically,” Yunho sputtered out a laugh while rolling his eyes.
“It’s a good message,” you said, picking up your drink to take a generous gulp of it. There was a little left at the bottom of the martini glass and you swirled the liquid around before handing it over to Yunho to finish. “I think this one will definitely make it onto my work playlist.”
Yunho draped the back of his hand over his forehead, setting the now empty glass on the table. “Wow, relegated to the work playlist. Is that all I am to you?”
“You are a mood maker,” you pointed out with a teasing smile.
“Bro, you're complaining as if Yn doesn't put her work playlist on for everything she does.” Mingi arched his brows over the rims of his sunglasses. (Why was he wearing sunglasses indoors and at night? You didn't know; he said something about looking cool.)
Wooyoung chuckled. “What? So let's say you're trying to sleep—”
“Yah, I have a different playlist for that! I'm not completely unreasonable.”
“Completely,” Yunho and Mingi said at the same time, then looked at each other with wide, excited eyes. They bursted out laughing at once, too, leaving you to deadpan at the two clowns to your eleven o'clock and three o'clock.
You sighed. “I hate you guys.”
That only made them laugh louder, spurring on the others to crack smiles and for you to do the same.
Yunho calmed slightly, his cheeks hurting from smiling. “Aw, you walked right into that one, Yn.”
“So you're saying you are, in some capacity, unreasonable—oh my god, don't hurt me!” Mingi shrieked as he shoved Yeosang's body in front of him like a human shield as you lurched forward and threatened to grab him.
Yeosang sent Mingi a dirty look as he wrestled out of his neighbor's hold. “Dude.”
“Jongho, protect me.”
The vocal coach popped the olive from his martini into his mouth. “If you can't handle the heat, hyung, stay out of the kitchen.”
You nodded, raising your pointer finger up. “Exactly.”
For the next hour, you and your friends shared good company and conversation, while also commenting on, praising, and enjoying the tunes from Yunho's Youth album. There were a good thirteen songs featured on the album, and while most of them were inspired by real life, you remembered the days and nights when Yunho would break out the white board under his bed to draw out a concept map of the storyline he'd created in his head for some songs. It was like a miniature Easter egg hunt for fans to piece together from album to album.
When the clock hit nearly midnight, you recognized the song that marked the end of the conventional album—track number thirteen, 22. It was a song that reflected and lamented on his early stages of adulthood, all the goods and bads, all the hopes and dreams he had left. It was something that tied the regular album with a satisfying bow, but you were also giddy to hear the secret fourteenth deluxe track.
But as his ethereal voice from 22 faded out, the same guitar chords from the first song of the album began to play.
Everyone at the table paused in confusion.
“Uhh, I thought you were revealing the hidden track tonight, Yunho?” Seonghwa asked from across the table.
Yunho tilted his body out of the booth to peer into the sound booth at the very back of the lounge, a furrow in his brow. “I thought I was, too,” he said as he stood up. “I’ll be back in a sec.”
Before anyone else could say anything, Yunho disappeared past the door to the sound booth. You frowned as Hongjoong excused himself to catch up with him, mumbling something about helping with any technical difficulties.
In retrospect, it wouldn't be the biggest deal if you didn't get to hear the song tonight. You would simply listen to it when the deluxe album dropped in about a week, but you wouldn't deny that you were a little disappointed. Everyone else at this table had already listened to it—why had Yunho not shared it with you yet? Did he think you would judge him or not like it? You didn't think you were ever so harsh a critic, but that would explain why he was so nervous all night.
Regardless, you remained positive.
When Yunho and Hongjoong returned to the table, the rest of you all looked on to them expectantly.
“Something wacky is going on with the system right now and won't play the file for the hidden track,” Hongjoong huffed. He passed Yunho a sidelong glance, and you saw how Yunho avoided his friend's eyes like the plague. “Sorry to disappoint, Yn.”
Everyone's attention whipped toward you, and you straightened like a deer caught in headlights. “Oh, uhm, it's no biggie,” you said. You glanced over at Yunho who, if anything, seemed guilty. Or maybe it was just something apologetic. “Really—I can wait for it to drop officially.”
You didn't like how the air seemed to shift during this exchange, as if all the other boys were sitting on the edges of their seats, faces morphed into mixed ranges of confusion and disbelief.
You cleared your throat. “Anyone want more drinks?”
As the night waned and the party came to a close, you found yourself being helped into another Uber car to head home. After the supposed tech glitch, the remainder of the party passed by without a hitch. At the very end, Yunho popped open a theatrical bottle of champagne for all his guests to close out the celebration.
The backseat door closed just as Yunho ducked in with you, his hand waving out the window to San, Wooyoung, and Jongho passing by along the curb.
The alcohol had gradually made its way to your brain, and there was a light buzzing at the base of your skull that made you feel all warm and fuzzy. You yawned, leaning your head against Yunho's shoulder.
He chuckled, one of his hands coming up to gently pat your head. “Tired?”
“Mhm,” you hummed as your eyelids fluttered closed. “You didn't have to lie, y'know.”
You felt his shoulder tense under your cheek. If only you could feel the rapid beating in his chest, then he'd be as good as done.
“I don't know what you're talking about,” he replied innocently, nimble fingers running over the chain links of his wristwatch.
Your eyes cracked open slowly. “Yunho.”
A beat passed, then he sighed. “Are you mad?” He asked quietly and his hand nearest to you found yours as he began to mindlessly inspect the chipped nail polish on your fingertips.
“No, silly. Why would I be mad?” When he didn't respond right away, you let out an exhale of your own. “I mean, I could tell you were nervous about me listening to the song all night. And if you weren't ready for me to listen to it yet, then I totally get that, and I'm okay with waiting. I just would rather you tell me that instead of make Hongjoong lie for you.”
He stopped playing with your fingers. “I'm sorry, for the record. Thank you for understanding.”
You hummed in reply.
The drive continued on with the accompaniment of a random radio station playing on low volume. You weren't going to fall asleep just yet with the alcohol still working its way through your system, but you kept your eyes closed nonetheless.
“I missed you, you know?” Were his first words to break the next silence.
A small smile wormed its way onto your face. “I missed you, too. I feel like we haven't seen each other in forever.”
He chuckled, the low sound rumbling through his chest and into your ear. “Texting can only take us so far. Isn't that crazy? We can't even survive a week without hanging out, but we're… we're about to be separated for so much longer timewise and distance-wise.”
You grumbled. “Don't remind me—wait. Has it really only been a week?” You peeked one eye open, a frown coming to your lips. “No way.”
Yunho smiled, shaking his head. “Believe it or not, stargirl. It's been only a week.”
“In-fucking-sane.”
“You're telling me.”
“How are we going to survive?” You pondered aloud, genuinely. If you couldn't fly out to see him within the first handful of tour stops, you and Yunho at the soonest wouldn't be able to see each other for three weeks. And if you couldn't escape your work duties and your PhD responsibilities, then it would be longer than that. “You're gonna have a closer relationship with your Valorant account than me.”
Yunho snorted. “I already have a closer relationship with my Valorant account than you.”
“Shucks.” You breathed out. “Guess I'll just text Hongjoong then. You know what he told me tonight when we were exchanging numbers? All eight of you nerds have a group chat and he gets ignored like a mom in a family chatroom.”
Your comment made a laugh tumble out of Yunho's mouth. “Did he make that analogy?”
“No, Seonghwa did when he overheard.”
A wheeze. “That tracks.” Yunho licked his lips as he turned his head slightly to glance down at you leaning on his shoulder. With his free hand, he warmed his palm over your head like he could keep you here forever. “So what's this about texting Joong?”
You shifted your position to get more comfortable and clung to his arm to press yourself closer. There was still a little ways to go before you reached your apartment. “I told him offhandedly that I wanna pick up a new hobby… something about crocheting or something, and apparently that guy is like… amazing at everything, so he's gonna help me out.”
“Ah.” The sound was quiet. “I'm glad you guys got along.”
You smiled to yourself. “Me too. He's really cool.”
“Not cooler than me though, right?”
You blindly reached over to pat his chest in warm reassurance. “Don't worry, big guy. I guess you're still the coolest guy I know.”
He clicked his tongue at you with a weak chiding, “Yah. You only guess? Don't tell Mingi that.”
“Oh, I wouldn't dream of it.”
The Uber eventually pulled up along the curb outside your apartment complex. You lifted your head up from Yunho's shoulder and woke yourself up with a good stretch of your limbs.
He helped you out of the car, handing you your purse when you finally got your bearings. “Are you sure I can't walk you up? You look like your knees are about to buckle,” he chuckled.
You shook your head. The cool evening air was helping your brain to sober up. “No, no. Don't worry about it—I’m not as drunk as that one year.”
“Dear heart, how could I forget,” he teased. “Mingi still has the recording of when you begged to be bridal carried.”
Your face warmed at his mention of that memory and you wrinkled your nose at him. “I was gonna say ‘I love you’ along with goodnight, but I suppose not.”
Yunho froze. “What?”
Maybe you really weren't sobering up, because you didn't catch his strange reaction. “Nevermind,” you said flippantly. “Love you, Yun. Good night. Get home safe!”
He seemed to unfreeze, his lungs filling with breath again. A soft smile melted onto his pretty lips as he looked on toward you with a warm fondness. “Love you, too. Good night, Yn.”
He remained where he was outside the car door as he watched you dig your keys out from your purse and open the complex door. When you had one foot inside, you stopped, and turned back to him with a big grin on your face. “Hey!”
“Hey?” He laughed.
“I'm proud of you.”
For the thousandth time tonight, you made him lose his breath, his hold on reality. He swallowed—he wanted to kiss you. “I love you. Get some rest, stargirl.”
You waved to him in reply and he waved back. Then you disappeared through the door and left him there, his heart full and beating fast, the longing in his chest weighing heavier than before.
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When you and Yunho were thirteen, you spent the longest period of time away from each other for the rest of your lives. It measured to about one summer break long when Yunho flew to South Korea to spend the entire vacation there and you could do nothing but chat with him via good, old fashioned e-mail.
Now that the two of you were older, even a couple days dragged on like an eternity. And because of your clashing and stacked schedules, a couple days almost always bled into a week.
A week since the release of Youth marked the inevitable release of its deluxe edition and the ever mysterious fourteenth track.
“Yn, wait, can you just help me finish this set of primers?”
You were this close to escaping the lab before one of your colleagues caught you. Taking a deep breath, you resolved to turn back and help them out. One less thing to worry about later, right? You could still listen to the track once you got home.
Except you couldn't, at least not right away. You saw the email on the bus ride home:
Hello TAs! One of your peers has unfortunately been involved in a motorbike accident early this evening. We have been informed that they will recover to full health, but because they are hospitalized, we will need to redistribute responsibilities regarding grades and as to who will cover their TA sections…
You skimmed down the email's contents, knowing you wouldn't be the one filling in as an actual TA. Because you were a first year graduate student in your first quarter, you opted to start off with grading work for now. But even if you didn't have to deal with a whole section of undergraduates, you could feel the blood drain from your face.
“You've gotta be shitting me,” you said, then slapped your hand over your mouth once you realized you'd said that aloud. You mouthed a sheepish “sorry” to a parent and her child nearby, then ducked your head to look at the contents once more.
There was no way they wanted—no, needed—all of those graded by tonight.
This was cruel and unusual punishment, but you knew you were going to do it anyway.
By the time you finished grading, shoveled dinner into your mouth, and took a therapeutically scalding hot shower, it was sometime past two in the morning. Thank fuck it was Saturday.
It was less than twelve hours later that you settled into the passenger seat of Yunho's Lexus sedan with a pair of shades covering your dehydrated, puffy eyes from the world and whatever paparazzi was stalking his car. Yunho glanced over at you with barely concealed amusement. “Well, good morning, princess.”
“You can't see it but I'm glaring at you,” you grunted as you strapped yourself in with the seatbelt. “I can't believe you wake up before noon now.”
“Unfortunately,” he chuckled, peeling his car away from the curb. After an unsatisfactory six hours of sleep, Yunho had woken you up with the obnoxiously loud sound of your phone ringing. You managed to negotiate for him to pick you up in two hours rather than half an hour—and now here you were. You never truly considered yourself a breakfast person and you would have happily slept all the way to lunch, but even through the exhaustion, you wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see you.
He would be gone by the end of the week, after all.
You leaned your head back against the headrest. “I used to have to lure you out of bed with the smell of bacon. Remember when you ate that entire plate of raw-ass bacon and pancake batter that Mingi made?”
Yunho let out a loud laugh that made you smile. He glanced over at you. “Bro,” he sighed, shaking his head, “you know I'll eat anything. Oh my gosh, I will never forget the horrified look on your face when you came out of the bathroom and found out what happened.”
“You looked like a kicked puppy when I told you that you shouldn't have eaten raw bacon,” you snorted. You'd felt so awful that Yunho was such a good eater who didn't complain; he didn't have any negative side effects afterward, thankfully, but you swore to never let Mingi in the kitchen or to let Mingi feed Yunho ever again, so long as you lived.
There was a café a few minutes drive from your apartment complex that the two of you liked to go to. It was a little hole in the wall, located on the second floor above a pet shelter, and the entrance could only be accessed through the stairs in the next-door alleyway.
Yunho adjusted the beanie over his bangs and you shifted your sunglasses up to the top of your head as you entered the establishment. There were a few people seated in the area to the right, but something you liked about this place was its hidden gem quality. (And the drinks and food they served, of course.)
“Hi, welcome in!” The barista behind the counter called before ducking behind the espresso machine. “Give me two seconds, and I'll be right with you.”
“No worries, take your time,” Yunho chirped back as he scoured the menu, eyes squinting and tongue darting out to wet his lips.
You had a general idea of what you wanted already, and you let Yunho know what it was before slipping off into the restroom.
By the time you emerged from the back hallway where the washrooms were, Yunho had finished ordering and was standing by one of the open two-seater tables by the far window with the soft autumn sunlight painting over his features. For a second, you stood at the opening of the hallway, just admiring him. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep making you envision the sunlight dancing around him as he sat down in one of the seats.
Heat rushed up your neck as your eyes met across the café. Gazes locked, you stood frozen, but a smile bloomed on your best friend's face like the coming of spring. It was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.
And then he made a face, cocking his head to the side like a puppy with a question. 'Why are you just standing there?’ He seemed to ask.
You shook yourself out of whatever strange daze you'd slipped into, then walked over to join him.
“You okay?” He asked as you took the seat across from him, a teasing lilt to his voice, yet there was still concern in the curve of his mouth.
You waved said concern away. “Yeah. I think I'm still waking up or something.”
“Ah,” he nodded in understanding. He frowned. “What time did you go to sleep last night?”
“Like… some time past two.” On cue, you let out a large yawn, lifting your sleeve up to cover your mouth. “It's okay. I'll just sleep early tonight or something. One of the other TAs got into an accident, so we just had to do some make-up work and I just happened to get home late as it was.”
You could already see the guilt manifest on his face for waking you up, and you were swift to add, “I'll be fine with food and coffee, so 's alright. What about you? How'd you sleep last night?”
“I slept decently,” he replied, leaning forward to rest his cheek against his fist. “I didn't end up dropping the deluxe album, so it was a little more restful than—”
Your brain took a second to catch up. The… the deluxe album… oh. Your eyes went from half-mast to wide open. “You—you didn't release the deluxe? Sorry, I was so busy yesterday that I didn't check my socials.”
“Don't worry about it,” he said with a sheepish smile. “But yeah, I told my manager that I still wasn't ready to release it to the public just yet. I don't know when I'll postpone it to, but it probably won't come out until while I'm on tour.”
Ah. There was that disappointment settling in the pit of your stomach again. This wasn't about you, but why did it seem like he was avoiding your eventual listening to this song? He was almost always sending you audio files without prompting, so what made this one different?
Nonetheless, it wasn't your song. You would respect Yunho's privacy if he wanted to keep this one to himself and his friends.
You unconsciously rubbed your arm. “Oh okay. Yeah, I mean—take your time, Yun. I'm glad you don't feel pressured to release it when you aren't ready.”
His expression softened to something tender that made your chest feel fuzzy. “You'll listen to it soon, I promise.”
The barista called out Yunho's order number, and your friend stood up to go retrieve it. You sighed as you fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt and peered over your shoulder as a pair of newcomers asked him for his autograph and a picture. You watched the pleasant smile spread on Yunho's face as he conversed with them as easy as breathing air, alongside the faint blush over his cheekbones.
No, you didn't know what had gotten into you this morning.
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“No, no. You have to loop it through this piece here—yeah, there you go.”
You were so concentrated on following Hongjoong's directions that you didn't even register the sound of Yunho's front door opening and closing. Hongjoong clicked his tongue and scooted closer so he could direct your hands and the crochet hook himself.
“Uhm… hey?”
Both yours and Hongjoong's heads whipped up at the sound of Yunho's confusion. He stood at the entrance to the living room area where, scattered all around you and Hongjoong, were clothes, toiletries, and other essentials laid out for Yunho to throw into his bags.
Tonight marked the evening before Yunho and the team were to set off on the Youth World Tour. Tomorrow, they would fly out sometime in the afternoon, which meant that you would have time to send them off before heading to work and class. However, because you hadn't seen Yunho since this past Saturday when he dragged your ass out of bed for breakfast, you invited yourself over to his apartment to oversee his packing. Hongjoong just so happened to be swinging by Yunho's apartment and you asked if he was up for an impromptu crocheting lesson.
Hongjoong arrived some time while Yunho ran out to the Chinese place down the block to grab dinner, and the two of you had been hunched over the ball of yarn and hook ever since.
“Oh, you're back!” You exclaimed. In your distracted state, Hongjoong took the opportunity to take the crochet piece from you and subtly fix the mistakes you made.
Yunho's brows creased, eyes darting from you to Hongjoong as he slowly placed the takeout bags on the semi-cleared coffee table. “Yeah… Joong, when did you get here?”
You leaned forward to help clear off the rest of the coffee table and to also assist in unpacking all of the takeout containers. Yunho shucked the baseball cap he was wearing off to the side, carding a hand through his dark locks.
“Like… seven minutes ago,” he replied cheekily. His mouth curled into something mischievous as he locked eyes with Yunho. “I can leave, though, if you wanted to be alone—”
“Hyung—”
“I'm messing with you,” he snickered as he handed you the yarn and hook. “I only came by to drop off the emergency backup files hard drive and to give Yn-ie a sneak peek of her crocheting lessons to come.”
(Yunho's eyes narrowed a millimeter. Yn-ie?)
You set the unfinished crochet square down on the couch to walk Hongjoong to the door. “Are we still on for tomorrow, by the way?”
“What's tomorrow?” Yunho twisted around where he was seated on the floor to watch you and Hongjoong make your way to the front door.
“You,” said Hongjoong with raised eyebrows at your best friend, “are going on a plane with everyone else. Because I'm not leaving until the day after tomorrow, Yn and I are bonding over lunch after we see you all off.”
You and Hongjoong finished up finalizing plans in the doorway, followed by amiable farewells. Yunho called out a “good night” to his friend as Hongjoong slipped out the door, and left you and him to the apartment by yourselves.
You claimed the spot on the floor next to him and accepted the pair of wooden chopsticks he extended to you. “I'm sorry if I wasn't supposed to invite him in. I probably should've asked,” you said sheepishly as you snapped the chopsticks apart.
“Oh, no, he's been over quite a few times, so it's all good,” he replied swiftly. “I just didn't expect you two to be so close.” He added a laugh at the end that sounded more nervous to him than it was supposed to.
“We've been texting back and forth, but I guess so. Nothing like the two of you,” you jested, lifting your eyebrows up and bumping your elbow against his.
Yunho grinned. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“You guys spend all that time together in the studio—WHA—NO! Keep those hands to yourself!” You shrieked, rolling out of the way to dodge his hands that threatened to tickle you into submission. Yunho had thrown his head back in a carefree laugh, a beautiful expression in itself, that had you reciprocating.
When you were sure he wasn't going to attack you (affectionately), you scooted back over to your original spot next to him. He smiled to himself at the sidelong glance you casted him, and he went and grabbed one carton of rice for himself and the other for you.
“Thank you for dinner, by the way,” you told him as you opened up your carton, his somehow already opened and spilling over with food.
You once again caught him with his mouth full, and Yunho swallowed the bite of food he had before replying. “Yeah, man. Of course.”
“I swear that I will definitely get the next meal we have—”
“Yn.” He touched the back of his hand against your arm to draw your attention to him. “You literally were the one to make sure I made it out of college alive, like, I can never thank you enough for how much you did for me then and continue to do for me now.”
You swallowed, suddenly blown back by the way he looked at you right now. “I did it because I care about you, Yun. It's not something I expect to be repaid for.”
“I know,” he said with a nod, lips pulled into a tender smile that made your stomach do flips. This was the look no one else got to see from him. Sure, he could fill stadiums of people who would see his big, bright grin that shone brighter than the sun, but… but this one, this smile, was yours. “That goes the same toward this meal, okay?”
Yunho notched his finger under your chin and tilted your head up slightly to meet his eyes. “Don't worry about it.”
You set your carton of rice and chopsticks on the table, he copied your movements, and you wrapped each other in your mutual embraces. The startling realization that you wouldn't see him for longer than a week from tomorrow onward rushed toward you like the coming of a tide to shore. Before you knew it, the water was up to your knees, and you—what were you going to do without him here?
“I miss you already,” you whispered.
You felt him squeeze you tighter, nose pressed against the side of your neck. “I won't be gone too long.” A promise.
“Thank god Seonghwa and Wooyoung can cook.” At the sound of his snort from above your head, you squawked out in your defense, “Who else is gonna make you bacon and pancakes in the morning when you’re dead tired?”
“Hey! I can fry bacon, I’ll have you know!”
You pulled away from him so he could see the look of pure disbelief on your face. “Okay, rockstar. I believe you.”
He scrunched his nose up at you. “That’s not very convincing.”
“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
Yunho scoffed, reaching over to flick your nose. You let out a sound of indignation and rubbed your nose, a scowl on your face at Yunho’s very pleased expression. And even if you were currently conspiring on how to get back at him, you couldn’t help but resolve something right that second—you would do everything in your power to see his show in two weeks’ time—to see Yunho in two weeks’ time.
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The thing about cheap plane tickets was that the cheaper you bought them, the less “amenities” that it came with. The one you’d purchased specifically for two weeks in the future did not allow you a refund. This meant that if something were to arise, you would be a good several hundred dollars poorer, and your plans to surprise Yunho at his show would fall completely through the floor.
Good thing you weren’t about to let that happen, right? …Right?
“You’re sick.” Those were your roommate Trinity’s first words to you as you stumbled out of your bedroom and found her perched on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. She fixed you with an unimpressed look as she stirred around her morning coffee.
“I’m not—” Your own response was cut off by one very untimely cough into your elbow. You wrinkled your nose at the metallic taste at the back of your throat. Great. “—sick.”
“And I’m Oprah,” she deadpanned.
“You could be.” Did you really sound as much like a dying walrus as you thought you did? Holy shit.
She stood up from her stool, setting her coffee cup on the counter, then walked over to you to direct you back into your room. “I’m not permitting you exit from this apartment until you're better. Back to bed with you.”
“But—”
“No buts! If you wanna still be able to fly by the end of this week, then you have to get better, Yn.”
You really, unfortunately, could not argue with that. Nearly a week and a half had passed since Yunho started touring. Opening night had been a massive success, as you’d seen the broadcast and read the reviews on social media. In the concert photos and videos slowly being released online, there was no doubt in your mind that Yunho belonged onstage. He was radiant as a diamond in each depiction of him, and he sounded better and better each night.
Suffice to say, you were beyond proud and happy for him.
In order to make your surprise successful, you informed Yunho’s team of your plans so they could help you get into the concert once you arrived. Your part consisted mainly of finishing all of your work ahead of schedule so you weren’t swamped when you got back. It was nearing the end of the term, meaning there was lots to grade and study, but when you had a goal, you were determined.
The only downside was that, between the long days and nights of work, your body couldn’t fight against the swift rush of early winter air that swept through the city in the past week. Your working hours stretched out longer and longer until your body just… gave up. Or at least, it was giving up.
After calling in sick to your workplace, you crashed back into bed for what you hoped to be a restful nap. Maybe when you woke up, this would all just turn out to be a 24-hour fever.
(It was not a 24-hour fever.)
You didn't even know what time it was when you woke up groggy and your head pounding like there was an active construction site taking place in your skull. Your bedroom was dark, and the world outside your window was also dark. The sound of your phone ringing drilled into your cranium, and you groaned as you felt around your mess of blankets and sheets for wherever that damned thing was—
“Hello?” You croaked into the receiver when you finally grabbed ahold of your phone.
There was a pause on the other end, and you were about to ask who it was when they responded. “Oh my god. You're sick.”
Your heart leapt into your throat at the sound of your best friend's voice and you shoved your face into the pillow. “I'm not sick.”
“Yn, sweetheart, you literally have the sexy sick voice.”
“You think I'm sexy?” You asked in a drowsy, unwell daze. “But anyways, I'm not—” You lifted your face into your elbow in time to practically hack out your lungs. You groaned. “Okay, maybe I am sick.”
Could things get any worse?
You could hear the frown in his voice. “You sound like my worst nightmare.”
“Am I sexy or your worst nightmare? You need to pick an adjective.” You whimpered as you struggled to pull yourself up into a sitting position.
“At least I know it did nothing to that attitude of yours,” he laughed. He sobered for a moment when he heard you groan as the blood rushed to your head. “Hey, do you have meds with you? I can order some and have them there in half an hour.”
You waved him off, even though he wouldn't be able to see. “No, it's okay. I should have taken an ibuprofen before I crashed. I'm sure we've got extra Nyquil around here somewhere…”
You attempted to stand up, a swear falling from your mouth as the vertigo hit you and sent you tumbling back down onto the edge of the bed.
“Yn, I'm sending you medicine—and dinner. That one bistro near your apartment is still open, right? I'll let Trinity know that deliveries are on the—Yn?”
You lifted your head and broke out of your return to unconsciousness. “Hm? Sorry… I did not hear anything you just said.” You rubbed your hand down your face and scooped your phone up to make your way out of your room. You somehow made it to the door, and you leaned against the doorjamb as you pushed out into the dark hallway. “You don't have to send anything, Yun. Trinity's studying for her law school finals, so I don't wanna bother her. Plus…”
You opened up the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and bit back a sigh of disappointment. No cold medicine. There was pain medication, at least, so that should hopefully help you fall asleep again.
At your lack of words, Yunho asked, “No medicine?”
“No, I have some medicine,” you countered. “Just—not the right ones.” Before you could swallow any pills, you hacked out another lung into your elbow; you swore your coughs were sounding worse and worse.
“You know what? I'm flying home—”
You slammed the pill bottle on the bathroom counter. “Don't—what? Yunho, do not fly home. It's literally just a little—” You coughed, “—cold. You have another show in two days. If you show up on my doorstep, I'm not opening the door.”
From the silence on his end, you knew he wasn't in total agreement with you. Maybe the bottle slamming was a little much, but his statement had surprised you. It didn't make sense for him to drop everything for you when you were experiencing something so trivial as a cold.
Not unkindly, you said to him, “I appreciate the concern, but you have bigger things to worry about and care about.”
“You will always be the most important thing I care about.”
His admission was so sincere that your heart gave a violent palpitation in your chest. You struggled to swallow, and it wasn't just because your throat was sore. “And I feel the same way about you,” you murmured, “but I can take care of myself, okay? I'll be back to normal in no time.”
You heard a sigh from his end. “I know; you're right. I just… wish I was there with you right now.”
You could understand that—it was how you felt. But some things couldn't be helped, and Yunho needed to be where he was and you needed to be where you were. You could hold down the fort while he was gone taking over the world by storm.
You closed the bathroom door to give an extra barrier between your voice and where Trinity was studying in her room. After knocking back a couple painkillers, you seated yourself on the floor with your back against the bathtub and your knees pulled up to your chest. “You know what's kind of ironic?” You coughed into your elbow and wrestled down another one bubbling up in your throat. You shouldn't have been speaking so much, but you could deal with the repercussions later. “I think I freaked out when you said you were going to fly home, not just because that's insane, but also because I was going to surprise you by flying out to your show in a couple days.”
He sucked in a breath. “You were gonna come surprise me?”
“Yeah,” you muttered, swiping at your nose and tucking your chin to your knees. Then you had to go and screw it all up, and you couldn't even get your money back. You pretty much accepted that you weren't going to be better by the time the day rolled around, especially not for travel. “I'm sorry I couldn't come see you.”
“No, don't be sorry!” He cooed. “I'm—I’m really sorry you're sick and I'm sad you couldn't make it, but… but think of it this way, hm? As soon as you get better, I'll fly you out to whatever city I'm in and we can hang out and you can come to the concert. All you have to do is get better for me.”
You didn't know if your schedule would allow after this setback, but you were going to remain optimistic. With a small glimmer of hope peering through your chest, you replied, “Okay.”
“Okay,” he said, and you could hear the fond smile in his voice.
“By the way,” you began, and had to clear your throat from how congested it was getting. Maybe some hot tea would do you good. You clambered to your feet to get out of this bathroom and do just that. “Was there a reason you called originally or was it just to say hi?”
A beat of hesitation passed between your question and his answer. “Ah…” There was a wince in his voice, “I, uhm, called because I wanted to know if you'd seen something online, but obviously you haven't 'cause you were asleep, but…”
Seen something online? Your movements with your electric kettle paused. Had someone posted something about Yunho? “What is it, Yun?” Who's ass did you need to beat?
“Seonghwa hyung found out that someone leaked the hidden track online a few hours ago.”
You leaned your cheek against your palm, eyebrows knitting together. “Shit, dude. I'm so sorry,” you said with a frown. That meant some rando on the internet had hacked into someone's files and leaked the song.
A sharp exhale from Yunho's end. “Yeah, I dunno. We're working on getting it taken down right now, but in the event it can't be done soon enough, I think I'm just gonna release the deluxe version in a couple hours.”
It seemed by his response that it wasn't the hacking that was his primary concern. Leaked, unreleased songs happened to every major artist in the industry, and it had most definitely happened to Yunho before this. But this time… this time felt different. You knew how hesitant he was to release this, and having the track get released to the public on terms that weren't his? Well, that just wasn't fair.
“You don't,” you said softly, reaching for a mug in the top cabinet to plop your tea bag into, “have to release it officially right now. You can still wait until you're comfortable.”
You heard sounds of shuffling on his end, followed by the sound of a door opening. You thought you heard Yeosang's voice as he murmured something to Yunho. The exchange was swift, but it reminded you that your time with your best friend here was limited.
“Do you need to go?” You asked, trying to cover up your hope that he didn't have to with nonchalance.
He hummed. “It's okay, I have a few minutes left. They want me to 'okay’ a couple things out on set, but that can wait. Uhm… as for what you said about releasing it—I,” he sighed, “I think this was the push I needed to finally drop it, y'know? I think either way I was going to be scared for—for people to hear it—for you to hear it. But uhm… yeah. That's all I wanted to say. I think it'll probably be released whenever you wake up.”
You poured the hot water of your tea bag, setting the kettle down gently. Letting the steam rise up to help clear your congestion, you could finally think a little clearer now. “I'm sorry this didn't happen on your terms.”
“I appreciate that. I hope you like the song—I… I really hope you like the song.”
A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “I'm going to like the song, rockstar. You have nothing to worry about, I promise.”
He let out a small laugh and the sound of his happiness, however big or small, made your chest feel heavy. “I’ve missed you so much,” he rasped out. “So much.”
You pressed your forehead to your fist, willing the prickling feeling of tears at bay. “I wish I was there—I’ve wished I was there with you the moment you left. But I'm so, so proud of you. I know I've said this before, but you belong on that stage, Yunho. I'll be there… I'm always there in spirit.”
“You can't say that and expect me not to fly my ass home right now.”
You sputtered out a laugh, which was probably a bad idea, because it led to an utter disaster of a coughing fit. When you finally managed to get a reign on things, you picked up your mug of tea and took a couple ginger sips. It was still piping hot, but whatever scalding temperature it was at somehow soothed your throat and your head.
You set the cup down. “Again, I'll be there in no time, I promise.”
“You swear on your life?”
You sighed, but you pressed your lips into a smile. “I swear on my life.”
Yunho's departure from this call was imminent, and so you made further promises to get plenty of rest and to take care of yourself. You only did so when he promised to do the same for himself. Just after you both hung up, you received a text message from him: Stay up for five more minutes!! The delivery's almost there.
You huffed out a rough-sounding laugh, and bit your tongue around a smile. Of course he had still ordered you stuff. You shook your head to settle on one of the kitchen stools to nurse your tea and wait for the delivery to get here.
When the driver was safely out of bounds of your door, you poked your head out into the hallway to grab the paper bags seated on your doorstep. You had only expected medicine and maybe dinner, but not only were there cold medicines, orange juice, and hot soup from the bistro down the street, but there was a bouquet of flowers there, too.
Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you pulled everything into the safety of your apartment. Damn Jeong Yunho and his gestures. It didn't mean anything—they were just Get Well Soon flowers, but why did you kind of wish they were more than that?
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The Youth album's fourteenth track entitled your space hit the charts at number two. By the time you woke up, still sick as hell, the track had been officially released for about eight hours. You rolled over in bed to guzzle down half a bottle of water and cold medicine, then grabbed your phone.
It seemed that social media blew up while you were asleep. The deluxe drop was trending under a couple different tags, and based on initial skims, you were happy to report that most had everything good to say about it.
Though, some of the commentary made you pause. He has to be seeing someone, said one user. Look at these lyrics. These could only be produced by a man in love.
You had to swipe out of the app at that point. Instead, you went over to yours, Yunho's, and Mingi's group chat together where Mingi and Yunho had waged a meme war while you were asleep after Mingi wished you a “Get Better Soon” message. You sent back your own meme in response and opened your music streaming app to find track fourteen.
The boys would probably all be asleep by now, so they wouldn't respond any time soon.
You found your space exactly where you thought it would be, at the very bottom of the deluxe album. You sat yourself up against your headboard, plugged your earbuds in, then hit play.
If only you knew how much it would rock your world.
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Hongjoong was never wrong about his hunches. It had been about a week and a half since you came down with an awful cold and couldn't make it to your intended surprise show, and slightly less than that since the deluxe album dropped. Even before the tour started, life was a whirlwind, but now that the tour was only ramping up further from this point, it had been nothing short of a total rush.
Different cities every week, at least two nights a city—all of it took a toll on both the staff and artist involved. Hongjoong's hunch, however, regarded the artist in particular as he watched said artist keep his smile up to say goodnight to the remainder of the stadium workers who lingered for cleanup. Yesterday was their last show date in this city, and today, Yunho and his team had come by to help load everything up for transport to their next destination. Tomorrow, they would fly out and be in the next city to begin preparing for the next round.
But as Yunho began making his way toward the exit where Hongjoong was waiting for him, it was impossible to miss the immediate exhaustion that flooded his features. He carded a hand through his hair as he checked his phone, then pocketed it in the back pocket of his pants.
“Hey,” Yunho nodded to Hongjoong as he met him at the exit and they both walked out into the chilly evening together. There was already a car waiting at the curb to take them back to their hotel—there was still so much that needed to be done before they left for the airport tomorrow.
“Hey,” he said back. “Everything okay?”
Yunho glanced over at him. “Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm fine; just tired. I think it's a good thing I started packing before we came here earlier,” he mused. For him to pack early? A miracle.
Hongjoong bobbed his head in understanding. “Yeah, I get that, but that's not really—you know you can be honest with me, right? I know this has all been… a lot.” And Hongjoong would understand; he had been in the public eye for so long now, and all of that could be so incredibly draining. From catering to fans and journalists and sponsors, it could be difficult finding himself amongst all that mess.
Plus, Yunho had the added bit of being away from home for a very long time. From what Hongjoong understood, Yunho only used to tour relatively close to home, and when it was farther, it was during his school breaks. He also knew that you were an integral part of Yunho's sanity, and that even before he reached this level of fame, you were his rock, his anchor, his ground control.
Being away from you for so long was beginning to show. When Hongjoong brought it up offhandedly to Mingi, Mingi was swift to agree.
“I—” Yunho began as he slipped into the passenger seat and Hongjoong into the back of the car. He murmured a soft greeting to the driver before strapping himself in with a seatbelt. “—it definitely has been hard,” he admitted with a sigh. “I don't know, Joong. You know that rush you get while onstage, but it just comes crashing down a couple hours later? Like the adrenaline leaves you all at once and all you crave for is home?”
Hongjoong pursed his lips, watching Yunho lean the side of his head against the window as he watched the world pass by. “Yeah, I do,” he said quietly. “The moments between all the rush and excitement, you're no longer distracted from how much it all is.”
A nod. “Yeah.”
“You miss her?” It was less of a question and more so a statement. Hongjoong's hunches were never incorrect. It was both a blessing and a curse.
Yunho's quiet was answer enough.
Hongjoong played around with the back of his phone case. He knew you had listened to the song—he’d asked Yunho and you'd texted Hongjoong, too. Yunho reported that you gushed about the song and affirmed him in all his choices and lyricism as always, but he was certain that you didn't get it. But when you had run to Hongjoong questioning your own feelings and if Yunho had been scared to tell you if he was in love with someone, Hongjoong could confidently say that you did get it, just not one hundred percent.
There was still miscommunication in the message, but he knew that was only something that the two of you could sort out.
“Have you guys talked since last week?”
“Yeah, we have. She's been…” He pushed a breath out of his mouth, “... She's been working her ass off trying to make up for the amount of time she was sick. I don't even know how she isn't getting sick again. I mean—all the shit she has to weather through—I wish I could help.”
And he couldn't, not like how he wanted to, not from so far away. Maybe that was what was eating him up inside the most, besides the fact he believed his feelings to be unrequited.
The car pulled up to the back entrance of the hotel Yunho and his team were staying at for the time being. The two of them thanked the driver on their way out, and they were swiftly greeted by employees coming out of the back for their breaks.
When they reached the warmth of their hotel floor's hallway, Yunho said to Hongjoong, “I miss her so much.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his Youth World Tour hoodie, eyes lined in silver. “I worry about her so much, too. I'm sure she worries just as much about me and I know that she's more than capable about taking care of herself—’cause god, she was the one who kept me afloat all these years, and I—”
I love her.
He slapped his key card against the reader and shoved into his hotel room with Hongjoong trailing after with a sympathetic frown on his face.
“It just feels wrong sometimes when I can't be with her. Is that crazy?”
Hongjoong settled a warm hand on Yunho's shoulder as the latter sat down on the edge of his bed. “It's not crazy,” he said. He'd felt like that about a person, once upon a time. After everything Hongjoong had gone through with his last relationship, one might think he didn't believe in love, but he was still clawing for it. He wanted something that he could see manifesting between you and Yunho. He wanted to help you reach that.
He sighed and sat down next to him. “It's completely valid to feel this way, y'know? She's been a huge part of your life and your passions, and for you to see all this without her seems incomplete.”
Yunho nodded. “Yeah.”
“You can go home whenever you want, you realize that?” Hongjoong asked. “We have time built into each week to give you rest days, man. We can make that work.” It might be a little tiring for so much travel, but one trip back wouldn't hurt, especially when it could help his mental state more than simply powering through.
“I know,” he replied. “I don't… I just feel like I want her to see that I can do this, that she didn't put her trust and energy into someone who would fall so fast—”
“Do you seriously believe she would think about you that way?”
Yunho's expression shuddered, and he let out a shaky breath as he shook his head.
Hongjoong arched his brow. “Exactly. She would never fault you for needing a break. Being human is not a sign of weakness, Yunho. She's your best friend—I think she has more forgiveness and compassion for you than that.”
Yunho swallowed. Of course what Hongjoong said was right. You wouldn't look at him any different if he needed a break; it was just a thing about being kinder to himself. But sometimes it was hard to put that into perspective, and perhaps he just needed someone to do that for him.
With no good choice made without a decent night of sleep, Hongjoong bid Yunho goodnight.
As soon as Hongjoong slipped out of his friend's room, he sighed and mentally calculated what time it would be where you were. You should have been awake.
And awake, you definitely were.
You would be lying if you said you hadn't been listening to the song your space on repeat for the past week and a half. Even as you sat in one of the campus dining halls doing work and eating your crappy sandwich for lunch, your headphones were spilling with your best friend's gorgeous croons.
You questioned everything at the same time. You'd figured out two days after you first heard it that you were in love with your best friend.
The lyrics had resonated with you, and you had come to the startling conclusion that you felt the song's meaning toward Yunho.
All you could do since was freak the fuck out and tell Yunho that the song was incredible. You didn't know who the song was for or about, but you knew it was important to him because of how scared he was to release it. Had he been scared to tell you he was in love with someone? Why?
Sometimes you found yourself tearing apart the lyrics like a rabid trash panda.
I couldn't ever leave you behind They couldn't ever take me away Baby, if I could pick a heaven on Earth It would be anywhere in your space.
You broke away from your work and sandwich to the sound of a text notification. Suddenly remembering how loud your vibration ringer was, you silenced it, then opened up Hongjoong's message: I know you're probably moping and eating a shitty sandwich—what. You glanced down at said shitty sandwich that sat in its equally sad plastic container. How did he know…? —and he's not doing well either. He's miserable, dude.
Everything slowed for you, and it was no longer about your so-called epiphany. You felt your entire body and mood drop at the news. You'd seen social media posts commenting on Yunho's stage presence and brightness never fading, but there were always the one or two who noted something along the lines of him seeming too tired or that perhaps he didn't have enough stamina for this.
The latter comments made your blood pressure spike, but there was, unfortunately, some truth to it. You just didn't think it was this bad.
You pressed the backs of your knuckles against your eyes. You hadn't been doing the best, clearly, and you knew that it was largely because you missed him. Being away from someone you considered home for so long meant that you were bound to get homesick.
You didn't know what to do. There was so much work to be done, and you had just caught up. On top of that, you were short a few hundred dollars from the last time you tried to fly out.
Another message buzzed in from Hongjoong: I think you guys really need to talk.
The organ in your chest rattled around in its cage; it longed to be with its partner. You were starting to understand that now.
The song playing in your ear was slowly petering out, and all you could hear was his voice.
And I've kinda been wanting to ask if we can Skip the 'why’ and get to the 'our’ Because baby, I love your space But I love ours more.
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Yunho had not flown home that week. Some emergencies had sprung up as soon as they landed in their new city, and all bets were off to be able to go home. All that he could do was buckle down and get comfortable. Even so, he knew how to make the best out of a situation.
As he stood at the very center of the main stage, he held a hand up to shield his eyes from the bright spotlights shining down on him now.
“Is that better?” Hongjoong's voice echoed throughout the near-empty stadium.
From one of the balconies, Jongho cupped his hands up around his mouth to scream at the top of his lungs, “LOOKS GOOD, HYUNG!”
“Jongho,” Yunho chuckled into his microphone, “did someone not get you a headset, bro?”
A beat passed, and then, “NO.”
Mildly amused laughter cropped up around the stadium in reaction to the youngest's troubles. It was little moments like these where Yunho could forget for one second just how tiring all of this amounted to become. His smile was genuine, and his tongue darted out to trace his teeth—
“Jeong Yunho, put your damn tongue away.”
Yunho's eyes went as wide as saucers, his expression morphing into something like childlike surprise as he immediately retracted his tongue into his mouth. But in the split second it took his brain to process the words that had been said, he also recognized the voice who'd said them. From the big screen, any one of the staff members or you could see the way his face stretched into the widest grin possible, his eyes lighting up like spotlights.
He lifted the mic in his hand up to his lips as he tilted his eyes up to the sound and lighting box far up in the stands. From where he was onstage, he could just make out the shape of you in the box next to Hongjoong—the sneaky bastard. “Ln Yn, get your ass down here right now,” he said, hardly able to contain the excitement in his voice.
You didn't need to be told twice.
You raced down the stadium steps from the box, your legs carrying you as fast as humanly possible without falling. Yunho leapt off the stage and left his microphone behind to meet you in the middle.
Somewhere between the pit and mezzanine, you flew into his arms and he caught you, spinning you around. The glee on both of your faces was enough to make everyone stop and appreciate the tangible love before them. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you pursed your lips to subdue them. You squeezed him as tight as you possibly could; his arms held you firmly around your waist, head tucked into the joint between your neck and shoulder.
“You're here,” he croaked with tears in his voice now. You heard him sniffle, and only held him tighter. He felt the added strength and let out a sob. “I missed you so much.”
Oh, for fuck's sake—you started bawling like a baby. “I—” you sucked in a breath, “—I heard—so I booked a flight—”
This only caused his body to tremble harder. “Oh god… Yn… I…”
You sniffled and brushed your hand over the back of his head in an attempt to get both of you to calm down. “Hey, don't worry about it, okay? It doesn't matter; you know I'd drop everything for you.” When his only response was to press his wet eyes against the heat of your neck, you blinked away your tears. “Plus, I missed you, too, rockstar.”
Yunho let out a watery laugh, gently setting you down onto solid ground. You both looked like a hot mess and a half: snot dripping out of your noses, eyes red and drowned in salty tears. The adrenaline rush from the surprise had trickled out of your system, but your heartbeat continued to rattle around in your chest with reckless abandon. His messy, damp hair; the wobbly shine in his dark brown irises; the way he smiled at you with that something on his face… he was everything to you.
“Glad to know the feeling's mutual,” he said, nudging you with his elbow, then pawing at his eyes to wipe the tears away.
“Good to see you, Yn!” San piped up from the stage with his microphone. He had picked up Yunho's microphone from where he'd abandoned it to come meet you.
You laughed, lifting a hand up in a wave. “Hey, San! Hi everyone!”
Chimes of greetings from all the other boys and staff members cropped up from all around the arena.
Yunho brushed a hand through his hair and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Did all you fuckers know about this?”
Mingi was perched on the ledge of the stage. His grin seemed to be the widest after watching your reunion. He tugged the microphone attached to his earpiece closer to his mouth. “Don't tell us you're not grateful now.”
“Nah, I'm just surprised Wooyoung was able to keep his mouth shut.”
Wooyoung didn't need a microphone to let you all know of his offense. You could hear his squawk of disapproval all the way from where you stood—crazy how acoustics worked.
Yunho heard your laugh from beside him, and he glanced over at you to catch the fond look on your face. He hadn't stopped smiling for the past five minutes, and it didn't matter how much his cheeks hurt. You were here; that was all that mattered.
“This place is—” you marveled as the two of you began walking down the stairs together toward the stage. The backs of your hands brushed against one another, breaths away from touching, from lacing, from being together. “—huge. It's so much more—” You felt your lip wobble again, “I don't even know why I'm getting emotional. It's all you dreamed of as a kid, wasn't it?”
The tears pricked at the edges of his eyes again, and the two of you looked back at each other with equally wet eyes and bright smiles. “Yeah,” he nodded, swiping at his eyes.
“You deserve it.”
“All thanks to you,” he said with a sniffle, hugging you to him again. You were solid and real beneath his fingertips—he was so happy you were here. This was where you belonged; none of this felt right without you.
When you finally reached the bottom of the pit, Yunho had to run back up to the stage, and you went through the aisles until you found your perfect seat. It wasn't long before Mingi bounded up the steps to come join you. He brought you in for a long awaited hug of his own.
“What's good, Yn?” He asked with a soft chuckle as he pulled away and settled in the seat to your left.
Just ahead, Yunho appeared onstage with his microphone in hand, and the two of you lifted your hands in sync to wave to your best friend.
You adjusted your bag in your lap, and clasped a hand on Mingi's shoulder. “This is surreal. Does it feel surreal?”
Mingi's lips pulled into a smile as nostalgia made his vision cloudy. “It does, every single time. I'm glad you're finally here—we’re all very happy that you're here now.”
You bumped your head against his shoulder and let it rest there for a moment, and his hand came up to gently pat your head to tell you he understood. You didn't need to say anything.
For the next hour and a half, you and Mingi got to watch Yunho and everyone else run through the last of the day's lighting checks. Periodically, someone else from Yunho's personal team would come and sit with the two of you, then leave quickly when they had something else on their to-do list.
At last, when the session wrapped up and everyone was sent to go home for an early night, you rushed down to meet with Yunho again.
He waited for you to be at his side before leading you down toward backstage. “There's a couple things I need to grab in my dressing room before we can head back to the hotel.” A thought suddenly interrupted his thoughts and his eyes widened. “Do you have accommodations? Please tell me you do.”
“Don't worry—I promise I'm not sleeping on the streets,” you teased. You'd figured all of that out pretty last minute with Hongjoong and Mingi's help.
Yunho nodded, a smile coming to his face. “Okay, good. I was gonna offer my room and I could sleep on the pullout couch.”
The thought of sleeping in the same room as him made your skin warm, and if you hadn't realized your feelings for him before, you would be confused as to why you were so flustered at the thought now. It wouldn't be the first time you had a sleepover. But this would be… different. Oh lord.
The backstage hallways were scarce and dimly lit in order to save energy, but it was enough to guide you and Yunho's way to the star dressing room. You swallowed as you reached the door—the facade plastered with a pretty, gold star with his name on it—and followed him inside.
“Hey, Yun?” You asked him as you lingered by the door and he rushed around to grab his things. The room was decently spacious, and definitely larger than all the other ones from his past tours.
“Mhm?”
“Could we… talk about something?”
He glanced back over his shoulder as he threw things into his bag. “Yeah, ‘course.”
You toed at the polished ground, fingers twisting and wringing in front of you. “It’s about the song. The, uhm, the your space one.”
His movements paused. He looked up and connected gazes with you through the vanity mirror in front of him. Yunho cleared his throat and ducked his head to zip up his bag. “What—what about it?” He asked, shouldering his bag and meeting you back at the door.
He seemed unable to look you in the eyes directly now as he closed the door behind the both of you as you stepped out into the empty hallway.
“I just,” you stammered. Blood rushed up to your face and you could hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears. “I needed to know—I didn’t need to know—it’s your life and your song, and you have every right to have feelings for someone without me knowing. And I think I’m asking this for selfish reasons, but… are you seeing someone?”
The question caught him off guard, his eyes blowing wide open. “Wh—no. No, I am not seeing anyone. Why do you ask?”
“The song—I know I shouldn’t be indulging in what people on the internet say, much less in the opinions of those who don’t even know you, but I couldn’t help but agree with them when they say the lyrics, the—the feeling of the song—you’re in love, and I—” Your breath caught in your throat as you choked on the words lodged there: And I am in love with you.
Yunho pushed an exhale out of his mouth and stepped toward you. So much shone in his eyes right then, and it didn’t matter how much light there was in this damn hallway, his eyes would always glitter like twin diamonds. “I am in love with someone. Yn, I’m in love with you,” he said. “I thought that the song would make it obvious, which is why I was so scared for you to hear it, but I realize now that this was just something I should have said outright.”
Your heart fluttered in your chest and it wasn’t from the nerves anymore. God, your knees felt like buckling from the force of the tenderness in his eyes alone. “You’re—you’re in love with me?”
“I am,” he nodded. He slowly reached for your hands and clasped them within his own. “I’ve been in love with you since that day you ran out of Science Olympiad practice to come to my audition; I’ve been in love with you from the moment you yelled at me for not being ambidextrous and I had beef jerky in my mouth—”
“I did not yell at you!”
He broke out into a cheeky, yet fond grin, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face with his hand. “I’ve been in love with you for so long that I can’t imagine what life was like before I was in love with you—and yes, you did yell, but you can yell at me as much as you like, and I would still be head-over-heels for you.”
Your lip curled in on itself at all of his words, at everything he was revealing to you now. You wished you had known—oh, god, you wish you had known. You didn’t know if things would have been different, but for some reason, you had a feeling that all paths might have led here nonetheless.
You squeezed his hand between your own now. “You’re everything to me, Jeong Yunho,” you rasped out, unable to put strength behind your voice for fear of all of the emotion about to spill out. “And I’m so stupid for taking so long to figure it all out, but I’m in love with you, too, and I’d be damned if I let another day pass without you knowing that.”
Something washed over him in that moment, and he laughed, leaning over to cup the back of your neck and rest his forehead against your own. It was ridiculous, the fact that both of you were giggling and smiling at such a precipice of emotion, but it felt right.
You could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips as he murmured, “Fuck, I wanna kiss you so bad.”
“Then come kiss me, rockstar,” you said, looping your arms around his neck. You drew him down to your mouth and felt his body mold against your own. Every crevice and curve slotted so perfectly with one another, and the heavy longing in your chest slowly eased.
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“You guys have been incredible for me tonight—” Yunho beamed as he walked toward the front, center stage and looped the electric guitar strap over his head to the sound of the roaring crowd, “—so I've got a little surprise for you.”
One of the staff members had set out a mic stand and bottle water for him, and he approached both items to fit the microphone into place. Tonight was the Friday night concert being held in this city, and the energy was dialed to one thousand in all the best ways.
He held onto the microphone with one hand. “This song is dedicated to—written for—my best friend in the world, the love of my life, my stargirl. I'm sure you know it—you crazies debuted it at number two on the charts—this is your space.”
His smile tugged up wider at the reaction he received. If anyone in the crowd didn't know the song, they were about to fall in love.
Yunho laughed, shaking his head, as he began checking to make sure his guitar was tuned with practiced, nimble fingers. “Oh, by the way—” he pointed up at the accessory he wore, the crocheted headband holding his hair up and out of his face, with a row of stars across its band, “—she made this for me. Isn't it cute?”
The stadium echoed in choruses of “aw” and cheers.
He could only duck his head with a smile, eyes twinkling with fondness and tenderness at the thought of you. You were in the crowd, but you could be up here with him in spirit. “Yeah, that was me, too.”
After you and Yunho left the stadium yesterday, hands intertwined and a new page in your relationship turned, you’d gone back to his hotel to share a restful evening in one another’s presences. You revealed later that night that you spent the four or five days you were bedridden practicing your crocheting skills until you were able to make him a headband. A row of three stars studded the length of it—stars for your rockstar.
Yunho struck his fingers down the strings of his guitar with a gentle rocking motion from his opposite hand to let the sound reverberate around the stadium. The crowd cried in love as his soulful, beautiful voice filled their ears with love of his own. And as his fans filed out of the stadium for the night and headed home, Yunho could finally return to his home. Because you were here now… no matter how far, no matter the distance, the two of you would always find a way to be in the other's space.
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a/n: pls remember to reblog, comment, and send asks if you enjoyed!
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jadeittic · 14 days
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when you call them your husband | ot13
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❥ seungcheol 
goes through five stages of a mental breakdown, because what did you just call him??? if you ever called him your husband in front of people, cheol would turn into a stuttering mess with cheeks as red as a tomato. if you did it when you were by yourselves he’d start whining like a bitch, getting shy as hell, because why are you messing with his heart like that? on rare days, though, he’d embrace the husband figure and start calling you “wife” and make you shy
❥ jeonghan 
so smug - no one would be able to wipe that studpid ass smirk off of his face. it does mess with him a bit, though, because come on - calling him your husband??? but he’d try his best to act unaffected, because it’s jeonghan, and he needs to be cool :))) (i’m going to repeat this so many times throughout this headcanon, but all of them would start to freak out a bit thinking about a day when this won’t be a joke anymore, hannie included)
❥ joshua 
is he really surprised when you call him your husband? not really. he knows he’s a husband material, and you often make jokes about him being your husband anyways. that doesn’t mean he isn’t freaking about it on the inside, though, because no matter how many times you call him that as a silly little joke, it still makes him so incredibly happy that one day, he’ll really be your husband, and you won’t be calling him that as a joke anymore
❥ jun 
one of the “turns into a shy, blushy, and a stuttering mess” squad. he’d malfunction at first, point at himself, and melt into a puddle of fluff, and love. one - how dare you call him your literal husband as a joke??? second - give him all the kisses, and hugs, because his first instincts is to run away, and break out in tears from all the love. he doesn’t really know what to do with himself after you say that word, but you can be sure it’ll be in his head for the rest of the day 
❥ hoshi 
soonyoung would be confused for a second, because “wait, are you talking about me?” and when he’d finally understand that, yes - you were talking about him (because who else would you be talking about), he’d get so smiley and giggly and shy, and just turn into the cutest bean. he’d immediately cling to you, wrapping his arms around you and trapping you in a warm hug, giggling like a maniac
❥ wonwoo 
cue shy wonwoo with his lil cat smile. he can’t help the butterflies fluttering in his tummy, and as much as he’d want to tease you for calling him your husband, he’d be too shy to actually do it. you calling him that would make him so happy for some reason, even though he knows that you mainly do it as a prank or a joke to mess with him. don’t do it in front of people, though, or he’ll run away
❥ woozi 
“anything for you, baby.” woozi always indulges in all of your silly antics and jokes, and this time it’d be no different. he’d try to act as unaffected as he could, but his acting skills are not always the best, so you’d still be able to catch a glimpse of a small smile and blushy cheeks. he isn't the type to think about marriage, kids, and your domestic future together, he prefers to focus on what you have now, but hearing that word coming from you, would make his heart flutter a bit faster
❥ dk 
“yes, i am.” smiles cutely at you, and gives you a bone crushing hug, while freaking the fuck out on the inside. he won’t comment on it too much in the moment, but the way he’d be extra clingy throughout the day, giving you ten times more kisses, and hugs, and pouts, and any physical affection. the thought of becoming your husband some day is so??? because it will happen someday, and that’s kind of crazy
❥ mingyu 
cue mingoo giggles, because that man would not be able to behave himself after hearing the word husband from you. will whine, smile, laugh, hug you, pick you up and spin you around like a lovesick teenager, and when he finally calms down, he’d give you the biggest smooch. even though you had marriage talks plenty of times before - you both knew you’d get married some time in the feature, hearing it from you - saying it so casually, messed with his heart so much 
❥ minghao 
as someone who has mentioned a couple of times before that he wants to get married, hearing the word “husband” coming from you would make him so so happy and giddy, to the point where he’d just stand there with a lovesick smile on his face, and the urge to hug and kiss the life out of you (he wouldn’t though, he has to keep his composure) (but don’t worry, he’d kiss your forehead and tell you how much he loves you) (all with an adorable blush covering his cheeks)
❥ seungkwan 
turns into a shy and blushy mess. seungkwan’s first instinct is to hide his face in his hands or your neck, so you wouldn’t see the effect that the word had on him (even though you could clearly see how it affected him). then he’d probably proceed to yell at you (lovingly) for making such mean jokes (he wants to be your husband now, boyfriend is not enough)
❥ vernon 
at first he would think that he had misheard you, so you’d have to repeat the word two or three more times, because why would you ever call him your husband? and when you’d clarify that, yes - you did say the word “husband”, and yes - it was directed to him, vernon would just stare at you with big eyes but no thoughts. you’d laugh at him immediately, because the lack of his reaction was even funnier than if he’d react. then he’d say “thank you” and proceed with the rest of his day with the word “husband” floating around his head
❥ chan 
leechan.exe has stopped working. looks at you with the biggest puppy eyes, pointing at himself, as if he was asking if you were really talking about him. it’s so crazy to him that you’d call him that even as a joke, because hearing the word “husband” coming from you is??? hello??? and the fact that someday he’ll really be your husband??? you can expect chan to be a bit more clingy than he usually is (a bit more pouty too, because what do you mean you called him that as a joke?)
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jadeittic · 14 days
Text
HOME, wen junhui
♡⸝⸝ after months of being away, Jun finally steps through the door and right in to your arms.
.ᐟ fluff. comfort. implied emotional distress/physical exhaustion. Crying Jun ( i'm so sorry ) Overworked and tired Jun ( protect this boy at all costs )
a/n - i need somebody to hold me like reader holds Jun omg. Leave some feedback, it's always appreciated <3
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The beeping of the lock of your apartment door is what has you freezing from where you've been standing in the kitchen.
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There's a box in your hand, leftover fried rice you've cooked for dinner scooped and ready to go into the fridge for the night. The pan and dishes are still sitting in the sink, waiting to be scrubbed clean and stacked onto the plate rack. The tea you made for yourself earlier is running cold on top of the counter since you decided to give up sipping on it when you realised you'd lost your appetite for the night.
The whole apartment is silent - it has been for a long while now since Jun left months ago. But tonight, the usual quietness is interrupted by the sound of the passcode being punched into the lock from the outside. The noise is deafening against the consistent silence you'd spend time getting used to. It's the sound of the door opening that follows, which makes you drop the plastic box right onto the kitchen island with a noisy thud. The lid loosens at the impact, almost spilling the fried rice right there on the counter. Yet you don't have the energy to pay attention to anything else other than the soft padding of footsteps that follow right after the door closes.
In a beat, you're flying towards the corridor next to the kitchen, hoping to be the first to reach the other - however, Jun is faster.
There he stands, the boy who holds your heart in the palm of his hand, in all his glory. It's been months since you two have seen each other - it's been too long. You had said goodbye to Jun on a dark August night, just hours before he had to leave for the tour that was scheduled to ensue for the next few months. The goodbye was all kind of rushed - two pairs of lips crashing against each other, two pairs of eyes drenched in tears and two hearts intertwined with one another.
And now, months later, two souls on fire and ice, reaching for one another out of pure longing. Your eyes are on Jun, who is gazing at you with a look that breaks your heart into a million pieces. His eyes no longer hold the adorable excitement you had gotten used to throughout being together. His lips aren't pulled into his usual boxy mischievous grin.
His face, his body - his whole being - screams exhausted. His eyes are dark, drowned in tiredness and pure burnout. His posture is hunched like he's been carrying the entire world on his shoulders for a while now - maybe he actually has, you couldn't tell. Jun has a notorious habit of keeping to himself when he's struggling, not letting anyone catch on and suffering in silence till he physically cannot stand a chance against it. The number of calls you've gotten from Seungcheol about Jun collapsing mid-practice still makes a shiver slither up your spine.
Now, clearly drained out of his energy to the point he could barely stand, Jun stares at you through the tears that well up in his eyes. The way his gaze mists with the tears brimming his waterline, you feel your heart drop lower in your gut.
"Jun" You breathe. "Hi, baby"
You watch as the bag in his grasp slips from his fingers, landing on the floor by his feet. And then he's scrambling towards you, the first set of tears falling as he immediately throws his arms around you. You're pulled into his embrace harshly as Jun pushes his face into your neck, the wetness of his cheeks instantly clinging onto your skin as well.
"I missed you. I missed you so much, yn" He's almost sobbing into your skin, making you instinctively tighten your arms around his face and pull him closer.
"You're home, sweetheart. You're home now. I'm right here"
Even though you're usually considered tall among your friends, Jun still manages to tower over you with his ungodly height. So when you gather him in your arms, it's inevitable that he ends up bent at an uncomfortable angle and you stretch your entire body to put your face beside his. Jun likes to make himself small to be able to be hugged by you and it only makes you want to put him in your palm and protect him against your heart for the rest of your life.
"I'm so tired. I don't want to leave again, yn" Jun's voice is interrupted by tiny hiccups. "Don't want to leave you"
"You don't have to baby, I promise" You have never been the best when it comes to expressing your mind through words but as soon long as it's him in your arms, seeking that kind of comfort, the words don't stop rolling out of your tongue.
"I'm not gonna let you leave, okay? The tour's done now, you have all the time in the world to rest. And I'm right here, baby. I'm right here to look after you, you know that? I'm here. I'm staying for as long as you let me"
Truth is, you had some knowledge of how Jun's headspace had been for the entirety of the tour - courtesy of Joshua and Seokmin who kept their promises of keeping an eye on him and updating you from time to time. So you knew that Jun had been more than bubbly, excitement seeping through every corner of him for the earlier part of the tour. It's only after their stop in China, that things started to get a little concerning.
You had anticipated it, Jun always tended to be down whenever he came back from his homeland, homesickness hitting him like storms in April. It usually took him about two weeks to come back to his usual happy and bubbly self. For a long time, you had been there to help him through it, looking after him, learning Chinese recipes to cook for him and heal at least a little part of his hurting heart. But this time, Jun had been struggling by himself while you had been miles away, at home by yourself.
Joshua told you how Jun got quieter during the latter part of the tour - always turning down offers to hand out and retreating back to his little shell of reservation. And it made your heart hurt to know that your love was out of your reach, left to struggle and take care of it all by himself.
Only the walls of your apartment and your call history to Joshua knew how much you cried and prayed, begging for him to be okay.
Jun shuffles in your hold, bringing up one of his hands to wipe at his face, turning to the side. You let him pull back by a bit before waiting till he turns back towards you with a small smile.
"Hi"
You almost cry at the meek tone of his voice. "Hi, love"
"I missed you" He says and his eyes suddenly shift away from yours, a shy look laced across his face.
"I missed you too, Jun. So much, you have no idea"
Your hands are quick to cup his face and tug him towards you, reaching on your tip toes to press your lips against his. You can almost feel how Jun melts at the touch, rigid body relaxing against yours and a satisfied sigh muffled between you. He pulls you against him a little tighter with his arms around yours, leaning back and making you lean against his frame.
His lips against you are all too familiar and foreign against yours at the same time. This is the first kiss you shared in months and you would be lying if you say you don't feel actual sparks and time slow down around you.
Jun tilts his head to deepen the kiss, one of his hands coming up to the back of your neck and holding you tight against his mouth. His lips part with a soft whimper and you gladly let him kiss you feverishly before the two of you are parting with a large inhale having run out of breath.
Jun always managed to look fucked out after one kiss, you realised a long time ago. Eyes drooping, cheeks pink and heavy breath hitting your cheek, he looks like a dream to you here under the dim light of your kitchen.
"Jun?" Your voice is shaking, eyes searching his face with every drop of adoration you could muster up.
"Yes, baby" He answers in Mandarin as his thumb strokes over your cheekbone, his eyes soft on your face.
"Have you been struggling a lot?"
A flash of panic sparks across his face, confirming your suspicions of him trying to keep his baggage a secret from you. But now that he knows you've caught on, he doesn't try to run away. His words are heavy as he speaks again, still holding your face in his hand.
"It was hard. I was tired- we all were. Meeting fans was amazing but- it was just so exhausting. I felt so...it was hard to watch all the members so drained and- and, god"
He's reaching forward again, tucking his face against your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your skin. You know he wants to be held right now and you do exactly that, letting your lips against his temple.
"I'm so sorry, baby" You sigh.
"It's over now- Like you said, It's done," Jun says against your skin, a hand sooting over your back in an attempt to let you know that he's okay. "I'm home, yeah? I have you"
"Yeah. You've got me, Jun. Always"
When Jun pulls away, he leans in to press his lips to your forehead and holds. Another kiss is pressed to your temple before he tugs you into another hug, arms tight over your shoulder and head resting on top of yours. You let yourself be held against his chest, curling up and fitting into the space of his chest like it was made just for you.
"I love you. I love you more than anything else in the world" You keep me alive like a beam of rainbow after a windstorm.
And right then, right there in the dim corridor of your apartment, nothing has ever felt more perfect. Leftover fried rice in the kitchen, clean sheets in your room and Jun's heartbeat against your ear - you have never felt more at home.
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jadeittic · 15 days
Text
giving them the silent treatment when they forget something — seventeen | 2,661 words | hurt/comfort, fluff
first work in this format! comments would be really appreciated :D
gender neutral reader. warnings: none.
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seungcheol
cannot stand your silence. he'd rather you scold him, or say anything to him, but he absolutely hates the silence that fills your house when he stops talking. he's thankful you're sitting across him while he's having dinner, but keeps interrupting his eating by asking for your forgiveness over and over. how could he forget your date night tonight? knows you need your personal space and makes you sit at the table while he does the dishes, but he gives in at the end of the day because what's the point of sleeping in the same bed if he can't wrap his arms around you? keeps whispering apologies into your hair and promises not to be this forgetful again. literally lights up when you turn around with a grumble and slot yourself into his arms. is okay with you being upset with him as long as you let him hold you.
jeonghan
thinks it's payback for the time he hid the last of your snacks a week ago. is fine with you rolling your eyes at him when he calls you by your nickname. realizes it's serious when you share your dessert with him, because you never do it without a little playful fight. realizes he's messed up big time when you don't retort back to his teasing about how your hair looks right now, after you've spent some time rolling around in bed. the final straw is when you wish him goodnight without even calling him any form of endearment. suddenly understands why you're being like this — it's because he left for practice without waking you up this morning, even though you asked him to. peppers you with kisses and it's only a matter of time before you stop resisting. tries explaining that your health and your sleep are more important to him than his own, but he's thankful you wake up with him the next morning and prepare breakfast for him while he gets ready.
joshua
is a gentleman. 99.99% of the time. but the 0.01% he's not is today, when he forgot to buy a bouquet of flowers you wanted to take while visiting your mother. he'd assured you he'd do the task because the flower shop lay right in the path he took while jogging, and now you've returned home with no smile on your face. there's a thousand apologies at the tip of his tongue, but none of them are going to be enough. you wish him a good night, but he knows he's messed up pretty bad. hates it when you don't even say anything about it, because he knows it's affected you more than you're letting it show. gets a call from you the next afternoon asking him why there's a bouquet of flowers on your desk and why your mother also had one delivered to her doorstep. picks you up from work and surprises you with a single rose that he tucks behind your ear, brushing away your concerns about it looking silly. loves you, and he'll get you flowers every day if it makes you smile the way you're doing right now.
junhui
is not used to one word answers from you. he watches you a bit closely as you take off your shoes, wash your hands, get a glass from the cupboard and pour yourself some water. feels like you're giving the glass more attention than him. starts feeling nervous. around you. hates it more than anything. but he doesn't know what's wrong, so he ends up doing something that flusters you both — he cages you in his arms, because he'd much rather you tell him off than push him away silently. you try to wriggle out of his grasp, but he pulls out his c-drama moves of seduction and slams his hand against the wall behind your head. you just stare at him before you shake your head and tell him he didn't kiss you goodbye this morning. he feels absolutely shocked. he did! or at least he thought he did. you're always on his mind, regardless of the time of the day. kisses you five times to make up for the one he didn't give you. sticks close to you for the rest of the night, as it's his rightful place.
soonyoung
is oblivious at first. he's the more talkative one between you both, so he doesn't find anything wrong when you come back home, or don't give him the usual kiss you do when you come back home — you're probably just too tired! guides you to the dining table and makes sure you're eating well. talks about practice, talks about this photoshoot that's coming up, talks about this interview he'd given earlier in the day, around afternoon, which made him super hungry because— well, shit. he was supposed to bring your lunch to work because you'd forgotten to take it yourself, and you'd even texted him about it. he promised he would, and now he's left wondering what you had to get for yourself because of his forgetfulness. throws himself to his knees in front of you and grabs your thighs, shaking you like it's going to transfer the sorrow he's feeling into you so that you can forgive him. loves that you crack a smile before you hide it and continue having dinner. promises to wake up early next morning so he can be the one to make you lunch and pack it. loves the sight of the empty box he sees when he calls you during your break.
wonwoo
feels like absolute crap when you get home and all he has to show you for his time spent is the game he's finished and a regrettable lack of food on the table. he'd promised to cook for you, this recipe he'd taken from mingyu just so he could try it himself. he'd even laughed at your surprised face in the morning, but now he thinks you were right to have doubted him. it's not even time for your usual grocery run yet; you're pretty much out of groceries because his friends had come home a couple days back and you'd spent time making a lot of dishes. sits you down and makes you eat a banana as a peace offering, all the while ordering takeout from the closest eatery to your house. sits with you and feeds you bites of your meal, not touching his own till you're done. still feels terrible when he sees you putting away the leftovers, because you're not supposed to be doing that in the first place. comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, murmuring apologies in your ear and asking if you want him to get you anything else. wakes you up to breakfast in bed the next morning. you laugh and tell him you're not willing to have breakfast without brushing your teeth, so he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. he thinks he should make time on his days off for breakfast in bed if it means you'll cling to him the way you're doing now, adoration in your eyes.
jihoon
is just in his chill™ mode half the time he's home. when he's not working, he's either listening to music or watching your favourite shows together to maximize the time he has with you. for jihoon, and you, actions are more prevalent than words. so it's with a sudden drop of his stomach that he realizes he was supposed to wait for you, till you came back home, to start watching this new anime you'd been keen on seeing. he can't exactly undo the past three episodes from his memory, so he's also silent like you are when you get back home and see what he's been up to. dinner is had in an awkward silence till you push your chair back and take the plate to the sink, letting jihoon know you're turning in for an early night. he knows he's fucked up. he's glad you're not kicking him out on the couch to sleep, and he apologizes by softly humming a song he's been working on for you, in the silence of your bedroom. it's like he's wearing his heart on his sleeve, too easy for anyone to see, but it's worth it when you sigh and pull him down for a kiss, telling him it sounds wonderful and that you can't wait to hear the full thing.
minghao
is disappointed with himself already, and you being disappointed makes it worse. he could blame jet lag for being the reason why he forgot to show up at the cafe to meet your friend you've been him to get to know for a while, but he knows it's a flimsy excuse. you cover up for him with the excuse of a fever, even though he's far from feeling down. doesn't know what he can say to make it better, so he peels an orange for you. only to have his heart hurt when you say you're not hungry. but you end up taking a few slices anyway, because you don't want it to go to waste. tries to pull you into himself but hates it when you don't reciprocate. he knows this friend is important to you, but are they so important that you have to ignore him for the rest of the night? offers to sleep on the couch, and is surprised to find that's what breaks your silence and makes you glare at him. promises to fly you out soon to meet your friend where they live as an apology. wakes up to you combing your fingers through his hair.
mingyu
puppy #1. knows he's done something wrong the moment you step inside the hallway of your house, even if you've said nothing — mainly because you're not rushing to him the way you always do, and you're not excited to see him, the way he is to see you. takes all the stuff from your hands and makes you sit on the couch and offers you a massage and pouts when you decline him gently. tries making conversation with you during dinner, but gets discouraged when you reply in short sentences. you're not...angry, but you're upset, and it's bugging him terribly. offers to help you with your nighttime routine, sitting on the counter and watching you go about it, until you sigh and tell him exactly what he forgot about. your plants in the balcony that he promised to water this morning and forgot about because he had to rush for an early practice. he throws himself to the floor on his knees, hands clasped, and promises never to forget it again. feels relieved when you laugh through a mouth full of toothpaste, pulling him to his feet and ruffling his hair. his alarm now has a label that reads: "plants :)"
seokmin
puppy #2. can feel his smile drop the second you walk through the door of your shared house drenched in water like you fell into a puddle and climbed out. and the worst part is you're not even asking him to help you dry up. he tries to offer you towels and fusses about your hair and you catching a cold but ends up sitting against the door of your shared bedroom when you gently push him out of your way and opt for a nice, warm shower. he's glad he ordered takeout so that you wouldn't have to cook, but he's not happy with the way you're ignoring him. no, you're not ignoring him. you're...disappointed, almost. somehow it's worse than having you be angry with him, because he knows fights can be resolved sooner or later. but you being disappointed in him? makes him feel like the worst person in the world. heats up your blanket in the dryer and gives you his hoodie to sleep in. he's never going to take your umbrella to practice again. drags you out to shop for two distinct umbrellas so he never forgets to send you off with one again.
seungkwan
he's busy. it's not an excuse; it's just how his daily schedule is. yet it sounds like nothing but a pathetic excuse when you get back home, avoiding even looking at him. you look amazing, and he wasted his entire afternoon wondering when you were going to call him, when you were out watching a movie he'd suggested the two of you watch together. hates it when you tell him you've had enough popcorn to make you skip dinner. hates it when you don't even hug him, much less kiss him. hates it when you have a polite conversation with him about the movie, as if you were just his friend telling him you liked his recommendation. you sit with him and watch a volleyball match he'd pre-recorded, but his mind is not interested in the commentary at all. pouts. straight up asks you how long you're going to ignore him. you say you're not, that you just need some time now to get over it. he nods like he understands but wraps himself around you barely twenty minutes later when you're getting ready for bed. will not sleep without coming to any kind of resolution. asks you to spoil the movie for him as a punishment and gets a pinch to his cheek in return. promises never to forget a date again.
hansol
is also oblivious. takes your silence as a sign that you're just tired, so he makes sure you freshen up and don't do any work for a while and have some water or light snacks instead. it's only when he puts on a movie you've both watched many times he realizes you're not talking to him, because you don't lean into him the way you usually do. he takes the initiative this time and tries pulling you on his lap, but you resist. he feels uncomfortable, and it's new. he tries focusing on the movie but his mind is on you, and it's only because of the sheer number of times he's seen the movie that he can remember the dialogues without paying attention. it's only when the main characters get into a car and start driving that he realizes he'd promised to pick you up from your friend's party. immediately switches off the movie because he knows you're not paying attention either, and kneels in front of you and looks into your eyes till you blush and look away. brings your head back in place with his fingers on your chin and asks you to remind him when he forgets so that he doesn't have a chance to let you down again. holds your hand through the night when you sleep. clings to you a bit more whenever you're home.
chan
devastated. at himself, at you for not reminding him that he'd forgotten to pick up your outfit from the dry cleaner's last night, at the fact that you're not even scolding him. hates that you won't even look at him except to give him some space to move around in the kitchen. having twelve older brothers, he's used to being kept in shape by them and remembering a lot of things about all of them, so why couldn't he remember this small thing you'd asked him to do? compliments you on how good you look, and is physically hurt when you just nod at him with a small thanks. asks if there's anything he can help you with. hates that you shake your head and say you're just going to read a book. tries making you laugh but ends up embarrassing himself when he trips on the bathroom mat and ends up diving into the bathroom face first. it's not funny, but it gets a smile out of you, and he thinks he's on the path to getting your forgiveness. won't go to sleep till you run your fingers through his hair, holding him close to you.
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taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee
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jadeittic · 15 days
Text
lean on me | choi seungcheol
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SYNOPSIS. in which comfort should never be this hard to ask for, especially knowing that your boyfriend would give up the entire world for you either way. PAIRING. choi seungcheol x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, hurt/comfort, lil angst WARNINGS. mentions n descriptions of depression n reader struggling with it, cheol lifts up reader's shirt a lil to touch them (nothing sexual abt it, just purely for intimacy), terms of endearment, kissing, all the dialogue is literally from cheol lol, very self-indulgent sorry :&lt; WORD COUNT. 1.8k
notes: the cuddly boyfriend in bed chronicles w cheol continues! anyway this is written purely for comfort for my lovely @bookyeom <3 honestly i've been writing a lot of hurt/comfort lately which i love (and need) ugh, so i hope u guys find some comfort in it too 💓
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Time seems to stand still when it happens again𑁋the emptiness, the weight of it all pressing down on your chest. It begins as a subtle shift, like the soft whisper of a breeze before a storm, until it grows into a deafening roar and becomes the only thing you can hear.
It's as if you hear everything and nothing at once, see the scenes play around you but the colours are mute, touch the world but its textures are rough, taste the air but its flavour is a metallic tang to your tongue.
You could claim you're simply sad; perhaps, it's easier to say that instead of the monstrously ugly word of depression. You hate it. You hate the way it shrinks and folds you into a smaller, duller version of yourself. It steals the vibrancy from your eyes, the cadence from your voice, and the lift at your lips. It steals you away from yourself, and each time you manage to get away you feel like you can breathe again, but then the tide rolls back in, and you're drowning again.
Struggling to stay afloat has been getting a lot harder these days.
A few soft knocks draws your eyes open, and the abrupt quietness of your bedroom suddenly feels more safer than ever. The knocks come back again, a bit louder this time, a raspy groan leaving your lips as you attempt to tightly squeeze your eyes shut like the sounds were just a figment of imagination. But then they happen again, and you somehow deduce the urge to chuck your pillow away and sit up in bed instead.
You barely process the feeling of your feet reaching the bedroom floor below. It's somewhere between the hours of six in the evening and three in the morning, you think. The cold hitting your skin and the dark skies outside the windows don't really help at all.
God, your body felt so weak right now since you've hardly eaten the entire day, and each step you took felt like a hot poker burning into your skin. The knocking seems to grow more insistent the closer you got to the door, and it takes an eternity for you to finally reach out for it with a clammy hand. And slowly, hesitantly, you flips the locks and push it open, allowing the door to swing open into the dimly lit hallway beyond.
Seungcheol is standing there, breathless like he had just run a marathon with small beads of sweat and strands of hair clinging to his forehead. The only source of light coming from the overhead hallway light shines down on him like a spotlight.
"You... You weren't answering my calls all day," he says quickly, voice wavering and heavy. "I came here as fast as I could after work and I..."
His voice trails off when his gaze roam over you, from your tightly tied lips and glassy eyes, to the tremor in your hands at your side.
He doesn't wait another moment, taking only two long strides inside your apartment before encasing you into his arms and bringing you into his chest. Somewhere in between that he also manages to close the door behind too, and it's just the two of you now in your place.
You stay like that for a while, not entirely sure for how long, but just enough that his warmth is able to seep through the crevices of your body and nudge so gently at something in your chest𑁋your heart.
"It came back again, didn't it?" Seungcheol asks quietly, voice a low murmur against your ear.
There's a small sniffle, then a weak nod, and all he could do is hold you tighter just from that alone.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he continues softly. "Or... do you want me to just hold you?"
He feels the way your fingers dig into the fabric of his hoodie a bit more tightly. That's all he needs to know before he's pulling away and dragging you into your bedroom. He does it all like it's normal routine to do this𑁋to simply hold you in his arms because he knows sometimes words are not enough.
Seungcheol is holding you a bit more tighter than you notice, arms encircled around your body with your head resting against his chest. It's not a suffocating grip, but tight enough to convey the emptiness he felt from not having you in his arms for the entire day.
His fingers trace soft patterns on your back through the fabric of your shirt. Yet you feel as they dip a little lower, your shirt lifting a little higher, and then the feeling of his fingertips barely grazing your back makes you let out quiet, contented sigh.
Seungcheol hesitates for a moment, then whispers, "Can I touch you under here?"
You nod meekly, leaning more instinctively into his touch. His hand continues its tentative roam under your shirt, mapping over the skin of your back so delicately and lightly. It isn't the first time he's done this, however the intimacy of just being so close to him𑁋to a man you call comfort, a man you call home𑁋makes this feel a little more than just okay.
He feels the goosebumps that form from his touch and the way you tense up just slightly before relaxing. A small smile forms at his lips, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head.
Seungcheol thinks he can hold you like this forever.
Perhaps it's a bit of a stretch, or a glimpse into a future that seems uncertain, but it's far from a lie. It isn't just because you melt so perfectly into his arms, or knowing he's the only one in the world who gets to do this (which, admittedly, makes his heart swell with pride), it's more than that. It's the fact that you trust him enough to let him in. It's the way you lean into his touch, knowing that in his arms, you are safe, and he would do anything to protect you.
"You're strong, you know that?" he whispers softly. "Stronger than you give yourself credit for. That's what I admire so much about you. Even when it feels like the world is crashing down, you still find the strength to keep going. Opening your eyes in the morning makes you strong, or just... letting me hold you right now. That takes strength. You're so, so strong, baby."
You don't respond, but your breathing steadies against his chest, a sign that his words are sinking in, even if just a little. And that's okay. It's a process, one that he is more than willing to be patient for, one that he is more than willing to walk alongside you through.
"You're always my first priority," Seungcheol murmurs, voice barely above a whisper as he holds you close and his fingertips dance along your spine, sending shivers of warmth down your back. “You can lean on me𑁋please lean on me. When this happens I don't want you to shut me out, okay? Anything but that."
His words seem to crack the dam holding back your tears, heat prickling at the corner of your eyes as you bury your face more into his chest. A choked sob escapes your lips, the sound muffled by Seungcheol's shirt, and a momentary surge of shame courses through you.
"Let it out," he reassures gently. "It's okay. You're okay. I've got you."
And that’s what you do𑁋you let go in his arms. Seungcheol hears the way you seem to quiet down after a few minutes, feeling the way you adjust in his hold to roll right next to him on the bed. Your bedroom is dark, with the only light coming from the dim lamp on your bedside table, but it's the first time all day he catches a close glimpse of your face.
His hand slowly leaves its spot from under your shirt and reaches over to cup your face lightly, affectionately, lovingly. His mouth forms into a small pout when he sees the way you're darting your eyes away from him.
"Hey, precious," Seungcheol says warmly, brushing his thumb across a stray tear rolling down your cheek. "Look at me, love."
There's a flicker of hesitation in your pupils. You know you look like an absolute mess right now: messy hair, with red-rimmed, puffy eyes, and tear stains marking your cheeks. But Seungcheol just smiles, a little sight of his dimple showing, and you can't help but weakly smile back. It stretches across your face, chasing away a bit of the tightness that had settled there.
"There we go, baby," he murmurs proudly. "That's the beautiful face I know and love. You're so pretty."
His tender gaze roams all over your face, from the vulnerability in your eyes and down to your slightly chapped lips that he's been aching to kiss all day, but that can wait for a little bit. For a moment, he feels something catch in his throat, and maybe his heart stutters a little too.
"You know," he starts, pressing his lips together in contemplation. "I... I think I can look at you forever."
He watches the way your eyes widen ever so slightly at his words, surprise flickering across your features. For a moment, he fears that he might have overstepped, swearing that he senses you crawl into your shell for just a second. But then he sees the way your expression softens, the corners of your lips curling up in a small, shy smile, and he knows he hasn't.
"Sorry, I-I didn't mean to say that right away, I just..." Seungcheol pauses, his cheeks flushing slightly as he searches for the right words. "I've been thinking about you a lot lately. I mean, I always do, but right now, I think𑁋no, I really want to love you for... a very long time, and I want to do it properly because you deserve nothing less."
His words embrace you like a warm blanket, and you could simply only stare at him. This time, you let your own eyes wash over him. You trace the outline of his jaw, the small beauty marks dotting the familiar curve of his neck, the vulnerability in his eyes mirroring your own, before settling on his lips and swiftly back up to his warm, affectionate gaze.
Seungcheol feels his own breath hitch from that alone, and the next moment, he's kissing you so sweetly, lips moving against yours carefully and unhurried. Your eyes close right away, and you feel his warm hand drift back under your shirt to bring you back in his hold as if he's trying to rid of any space that was left.
I think, You don't let your gaze waver away from him when the kiss breaks and nothing but small smiles wears on both of your faces. I want to love you for a very long time too, Choi Seungcheol.
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taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @roziesmei @mirxzii @bookyeom @parkjennykim @melodicrabbit @bewoyewo
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jadeittic · 17 days
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comfort
author’s note. i wrote it when i needed comfort a while back so i’m posting it bc i need it once again 👍👍👍 very self-indulgent but who cares ig (also i suck at titles lately,,, where’s the flavour)
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wonwoo checks his phone. the wallpaper with a picture of you while playing with a random cat on a street lights up and he glances at time. you should have called him 10 minutes ago, that’s how he knows something wrong. he’s about to dial your number when your contact name comes up, another picture of you that he loves adoring the screen: when you were imitating hoshi’s double eyelid picture.
he picked up and there was silence. when you let out a slow but shaky exhale, he already knew. his heart clenched.
“um, hi” you said weakly, voice trembling “i… uh…”
you sniffled and wonwoo immediately got up, looking for his car keys.
“i didn’t pass…” a weak murmur left your mouth, barely audible. wonwoo bit his lip; he knew how much you were stressing out and how important the exam was to you.
“hey, it’s alright. i’m sure you did your best” he reassured, his deep voice warm like hot milk with honey on a chilly day.
“well, yeah but–“ your voice cracked, followed by a sharp sob. oh how he hated to hear that sound “but i didn’t… i scored very little points and i feel like a dumb idiot who can’t even–“
“stop it, don’t say it. you’re not dumb and you’re definitely not an idiot. life is, sadly, about failures and mistakes. you failed this time but you’ll do better next time, hm?” wonwoo comforted you, the sound of your uneven breathing on the other side of the phone.
“you’re right… but still…” your voice was small. he could imagine your teary eyes, wet cheeks and the way your hands were probably trembling and picking on your skin. and he didn’t like that one bit “others…”
“with all due respect, i don’t really care about others. you can always retake the test, no?” he asked. another sniff. and probably a nod.
“yup” you hummed, letting out another sigh. this one was more heavy but wonwoo liked this one better – it meant you probably started calming down.
“i’m picking you up and we’re going to eat something, how does that sound?” he asked gently. you were supposed to celebrate but a failure doesn’t mean you can’t treat yourself good.
“i… i’d like that” you said and finally he could head you smile “can we eat some pasta though?”
“absolutely. hey, y/n?” wonwoo’s voice softened, even though you thought that was impossible
“yes?”
“i’m proud of you. i mean it” as soon as he said that, he heard a breathy chuckle “i love you. will meet you in ten minutes, okay?”
“okay. i love you too, nonu” you smiled wildly to his delight.
masterlist <3
taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @jiwuu ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @dazzlingligth
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jadeittic · 1 month
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I started watched Mr & Mrs Smith yesterday: People's complaints are baseless imo because it's not that the show isn't good, but that people are honestly racist so they don't want to watch a show with two POC in the lead roles that also doesn't center whiteness/white characters in any way. They also lack the attention span for dialogue, so instead, they would prefer non-stop action that does little for the plot or the character's development whereas the action in Mr & Mrs Smith so far seems to be very subtle as they are literally SECRET agents and therefore cannot go around John Wicking the whole damn neighborhood. They have to be discreet, so the action, at least as far as episode two, has to be justified in order for the characters to get particularly violent and destructive. The missions they were given were something that two unsuspecting people, a married couple, could carry out without drawing suspicion to themselves or their mission. The focus is on the dynamic between John and Jane, which was always the point of Mr & Mrs Smith.
In conclusion, go watch Mr & Mrs Smith (by official means if possible, if not 🤷🏽).
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jadeittic · 2 months
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seventeen reaction ˚୨୧⋆˚
⋆ hhu ver.
oddly specific details/key points of their relationship with you
cw: sfw, 'girl' is only mentioned once in wonwoo's, mentions a period once, and mentions showering together in mingyu's but it's not sexual, npr!
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masterlist
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ seungcheol
⋆ seungcheol, who refuses to wake you up when he leaves early for practice/schedules, no matter how much you insist that he should.
when you bring it up, he always promises you that he will next time, and in that moment, he really isn't lying! he fully intends on fulfilling your wishes and waking you up to let you know he'll be heading out; in fact, there's nothing he wants more than to selfishly wake you and bid you a proper goodbye each and every morning he has to leave for work. except on the day of, when his alarm rings at nearly six in the morning, his plans change completely. he spends the better part of an hour talking himself up to the grueling task ahead of him, reminding himself that you literally want him to wake you up.
after he's showered, gotten ready, and is moments away from heading out, seungcheol's eyes land on you, face poking out under all the blankets that you love hogging, cheeks smushed and drool gathering at the corner of your lip. that's when he realizes he doesn't have it in him to disturb your slumber, and he probably never will. ultimately, he breaks his promise, settling instead for leaving a lingering kiss on your cheek and a note or text where he expresses his apology and explains that you deserved the rest. secretly enjoys the earful he gets later, and makes it up to you so sweetly.
⋆ seungcheol, who doesn't let you lift a finger when it's not necessary: "don't worry, i'll take care of it."
it doesn't matter to seungcheol that everyone sees him as responsible and reliable—what really matters to him, is that you see it, too. has no problem with you being independent, but he definitely feels a healthy surge of pride at the prospect of being able to facilitate things for you. having you depend on him, or at the very least having you know you can depend on him for anything, is so important to him. no task is too grueling, and babying you is a partner privilege i can't see him not indulging in. the members definitely call him out for it if it ever happens in front of them, but he could not care less.
if your car needs an oil change, he'll go get it done while you're taking a nap so you don't have to worry about it later. if he notices any laundry piling up throughout the week, he'll do it while you run an errand so that you have one less thing to do when you get home. if you want to redecorate or renovate something, he's invested in your ideas, learning how build complicated furniture and polish floor tiles—anything it takes he'll do, as long as it means he can make you happy. very much an 'acts of service' kind of guy.
⋆ seungcheol, who calls everyday to check-in.
it might seem like it's the bare minimum, but when he works the job that he does and is as busy as he is, knowing that he puts time aside to call you throughout the day is so, so meaningful. especially when he's in a different time zone, staying up late into the night or getting before the sun so that he can wish you a good morning/night. always asks if you've eaten, what you're planning to do that day, etc. and he'll talk to you until he's confident that you don't feel neglected in any way. you're never a second thought to him, and he wants to make sure you feel like he's dedicating time and attention to you, even when he's not physically there to do so.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ wonwoo
⋆ wonwoo, who replaces all of your favorite things the moment they run out.
the level of attention to detail he has for things involving you is both concerning and extremely endearing. he's so attentive to you and remembers all of the things you like and dislike. at the start of your relationship, it was pretty subtle: keeping your favorite drinks and snacks stocked up at his apartment for when you came over or buying a few pairs of shorts or sweats (since you’re obviously wearing his shirts) for when you’d stay the night. keeps them neatly folded in a drawer for you to wear on days need to cover up a bit more, like if Mingyu is around.
eventually, this evolves into restocking your favorite shampoo and conditioner when he's showered at yours and noticed you're out. same goes for your favorite perfume that's running low, and other house-hold things like your detergent or your favorite candle.
always makes sure you're taken care of during outings—brings hair ties and little battery-powered fans for hot days, and on cold winter days, opens his jacket so you can hug his waist and he can wrap it around you, swaying the two of you side to side. presses his cheek against yours to warm it up or kisses the icy tip of your nose.
⋆ wonwoo, whose love language is ambiguous
not only does he receptive to any love language you may have, he is somehow amazing at giving you all five (regardless of which one is your actual favorite).
gift giving? the most thought-through, special gifts for his special girl, as frequent as he deems necessary, too, because you deserve nothing less. quality time? one of his favorite things is sitting with you in a comfortable silence, making occasional jokes and comments to get you to crack a grin. a smile is his favorite look on you. acts of service? waters your plants, cooks for you, cleans or organizes things just how you like them so that you're at your most comfortable, massages your shoulders and feet after long days, runs warm, scented baths—you name it, he does it. physical touch? scoops you into his lap because he's obsessed with how warm you are, and the way your weight feels on him is so, so infatuating. likes leaving light and airy kisses on your cheek or pressing his lips into the crook of your neck. all of his kisses take your breath away, but the ones on your shoulder where he mumbles soft confessions of love are particularly awe-spiring. words of affirmation? don't be fooled by his quietness—he always has something he's eager to say to you, and if it's to pay you a compliment, there is no restriction to his words. loves telling you just how happy you make him, how pretty you are, how you're his safety-net and his soulmate and all of his favorite things put in one.
⋆ wonwoo, who sets aside time for you
you'd never have to ask him to put a book down or hop off a game. the moment you appear, he's putting everything aside to greet you and hold you and ask how you've been. if you're upset or sad, he'll glue himself to your side until you feel better. he seems like the type of person who feels very deeply for the people he cares about, so it's extremely important to him that you are always feeling your best, for his sake and yours. listens so deeply to your concerns and complaints for any matter—whether it's in an argument and you're sharing your views, or after a bad day at work where you ramble and rant about what went wrong.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ mingyu
⋆ mingyu, who is impatient when it comes to you
he's understanding of the fact that the two of you cannot always be together, considering his career and the fact that you're also busy at times; regardless, he has an inability to be away from you for longer than a few hours. it’s endearing, his neediness showing in the form of longing text messages or voice notes where he whines and mumbles, “what are you doing? i miss youuuu,”
his impatience is also evident in person, like how he runs up to the door when he hears your keys jingling because he's that eager to greet you. most of the time if he's cooking or tasting something, you end up tasting the food on his lips because he's never patient enough to wait until he swallows a bite of food before he kisses you.
⋆ mingyu, who is so gentle and thoughtful with you
loves pampering you, whether its by scrubbing your shampoo into your scalp as he sits behind you in a hot bath, or getting up before you to bring you breakfast in bed. most of the time, showering together isn't even sexual; he'll hold you close and mumble soft compliments or talk about his day, wrap you in a towel when you get out, dry your hair for you, apply lotion, whatever your regular routine is— and he truly enjoys every part of it. if he comes home after you've fallen asleep, he'll make sure your phone is plugged in and any alarms you may need are on. finishes any tasks around the house you may have forgotten to do prior to your slumber, like folding clothes you left in the dryer or washing any dishes in the sink.
treats you as if you were made of glass, covering the corners of tables when you walk by or holding your hand while you cross the street. pouts while he takes care of you if you're sick or injured, cooing and bandaging your cuts and scrapes or insisting you take your medicine around the clock and rest (perhaps even excessively... you could have seasonal allergies, and he'll still scold you for wanting to get out of bed).
⋆ mingyu, who dedicates a section of his phone to you
loves candid pictures and loves your face. simple.
there's a hidden photo album on his phone with all the pictures he has of you and with you and there are various playlists dedicated to you, too. any song that reminds him of you is on a playlist with a cheesy name. another playlist consist of songs he knows you like or even thinks you might like. plays these for you on drives where his hand clutches yours and the windows are down.
if you're an individual who gets their period, he has your period tracker on his phone so he can plan accordingly and make sure he's extra sweet to you around that time. has recipes you like/he wants to make for you set aside in a pinterest board or bookmarked on his search page. also keeps your favorite shopping apps with the cart full of things you mentioned so he can get them for you.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ vernon
⋆ vernon, who can't watch shows without you
there's certain tv shows that he completely avoids unless you're there to watch them with him. even if the guys beg him to watch it, he'll refuse and lock himself in his room so there's no chance it might be spoiled. when he's with you though? a few nights of the week, the two of you sit down with snacks and sugary drinks to watch your favorite series together like an old married couple watching their nightly programs.
loves when you you curl up in his lap, both of you wrapped under one blanket with your head resting on his shoulder and his arms circled around you. his gasps and laughs and overall reactions are so loud by your ear but it's adorable and it's such a domestic and comfortable experience. it feels very familiar, and more often than not, both of you prefer this to going out.
⋆ vernon, who rests the best when he's around you
needs his afternoon naps, but specifically, he needs them with you. limbs tangled and light conversation before you drift off that just becomes slurred, pointless babbling. quiet snores and soft breaths take over as the early afternoon hours go by. just the warmth of having you near makes his heart so happy and his rest so fulfilling, especially before practice or after long hours of travelling.
it's a treat to wake up beside him after these catnaps, too. the sleepy features and tousled hair are so very boyfriend, and the way he looks at you when his eyes peek open is so cute.
⋆ vernon, who always tries new things with you
a yes man, any time, all of the time. whether you ask to go on a grocery run at two in the morning or a hike at dawn, he's saying yes. whenever you want to try something new, vernon is your partner in crime and your greatest alliance. he's not only your boyfriend, but your best friend, and it makes everything so fun. always puts a smile on your face, too. he's so goofy and easy going that it's difficult to not feel great around him.
enthusiastic and supportive when you wanna try new hobbies. always asks so many questions so you know he's interested and invested, and will get you any tools or resources you need to excel. trying new foods and restaurants is also high up on the list of things the two of you like to do. he might like keeping a little list of your favorite spots so he can find similar ones to try with you.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆
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jadeittic · 2 months
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She hasn’t responded to you yet because she’s busy being openly pathetic on Tumblr. Give it some time
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jadeittic · 2 months
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having short-term memory is like. this book profoundly affected me. that show bared my soul. i don’t remember a single thing about it. but it did
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jadeittic · 2 months
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scary movie | kim mingyu
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author's note | this is so self indulgent, but i love scary movies and i know for a fact that Mingyu would hate me for making him watch them with me
“Did you have fun, baby?”
“No, I did not,” Mingyu whined, for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. 
One would assume that a 6 '2 man made out of pure muscle wouldn’t be afraid of anything, especially not a couple of bad jumpscares and eerie music, but your boyfriend seemed to be an exception. 
You knew very well what you were doing, persuading him to watch a scary movie with you. For the whole duration of the movie his head was hidden in the crook of your neck and his hands were holding onto your arms like his life depended on it. 
With every louder sound he’d flinch and whine, making you chuckle, because nothing is more adorable than your giant puppy of a boyfriend acting like a scared little child, because of some silly movie. 
“Like, what's so fun about being scared?” he wondered, still clutching onto your arm, despite the credits already rolling. 
“I don’t know,” you shrugged, mindlessly caressing the back of his neck. “But I like it.” 
“And it’s also an excuse for me to hold you for a couple of hours,” you added and laughed at the loud whine that he let out. 
“You do not need to hold me. I would be fine on my own,” he said, lifting his head to look at you. 
Both of you knew that it was a lie. 
He would never be able to watch anything remotely scary without jumping into your arms. His messy hair and the pout on his lips were a statement, that in fact, his soul would leave his body if you weren’t near him.
“Ah, of course,” you said. “Kim Mingyu never gets scared of anything.” 
He nodded, finally letting go of your arm and straightening his back for the first time since you began watching the movie. Did he try to look more confident because he wanted to look cool or just to comfort himself that he didn’t just act like a baby because of a scary movie? 
The answer was so obvious. 
As you turned to grab the remote, a loud bang came from the TV, a last jumpscare of the movie as the screen turned black. 
In a millisecond, Mingyu was clutching onto you again, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist and his head hidden in your lap. He let out a loud scream, which made you more scared than the whole movie itself. 
“You were saying?” you chuckled, gently pulling at the short strands of his hair. 
He mumbled something inaudible, knowing that there was no use in trying to explain himself. 
“You’re seriously the cutest human being on earth,” you could hear the loud protests coming from him, yet, he did nothing to untangle himself from your body. 
You turned the TV off, leaving only the side lamp to illuminate your living room. You shifted your position, so the both of you would be more comfortable and pulled Mingyu higher, so he could lay on your chest. 
He nuzzled his head further into you, resting his arms around your body. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as best as you could and put one of your hands at the back of his head. 
“If the monsters come out at night, will you protect me?” he whispered. 
“I’ll always protect you.”
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jadeittic · 2 months
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12 Months
peter parker x male reader.
series: 12 Months. part i.
summary: where you couldn't possibly imagine to find love and sanctuary anywhere else, you somehow find it in the presence of a boy named peter.
wc: 4.3k. genre: angst. warnings: loner!reader, sad!reader, implied abuse, implied bullying, high school senior year, slow-burn.
a/n: i'm trying something new with my writing! mostly not using all lowercase because it became a pain to type on my phone, LOL. but i welcome you guys to my fully planned series! it's exciting, but especially kind of scary since school is coming up. i might put off requests to focus on this, if it does well, but if not, i'll slowly update. i guess the reader kind of hits close to home, a little too close, since i've been feeling some type of way recently. nonetheless, i hope you enjoy the first part!
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SEPTEMBER.
The big hand of the clock flicked closer to the end of the day, the small hand circling around the circumference to pass time. 
Conversations of peers were usually drowned out with the help of your earbuds. The gentle strum of acoustics would counter the excitement of the students’ well-being; friends opinionated in after-school activities, athletes talked about the upcoming game with your rival school, artists boasted over the amount of commissions they’ve received overnight.
For the first time, you heard it all, and took it all in with an inhale, then silence as you stared at Peter Parker. The earbuds were slotted into your ear canals, but today, the wired nubs were worn to merely dull your surroundings as you awaited the intercom to bid the occupants of the building farewell for the day. Your leg shook, bouncing your book bag atop of it, and you held it steady when you hugged it close to your chest, chin resting at the strap. It appeased the throttle in your chest, but every time the classmate opened his mouth for a laugh, it swelled painfully larger. A pump to the husk of a balloon, a breath to the bubble of blue raspberry bubblegum, a vapor to the particles of billowed smoke, it continued swelling and roped your anxiety along for the journey. A part of you needed to talk to him, but the other part begged for reconsideration. 
At some point, you forgot to breathe. Feeling blue in the cheeks, you finally exhaled the caught nerves. They drew out of you in shivers, spaghetti boiling in bubbling water if the warmth of your breath could change matter. While the man listened, then talked within his small group of friends, chairs and desks were gathered around to form a circle, you examined him cautiously. If Peter was to turn his head and meet the affection in your gaze, you were lucky to have the window by your side to turn back to, feigning interest in the clouds, the sky, the breeze in the trees. Until then, his smile unmasked pearly whites that rivaled the lights that illuminated the classroom. His russet hair was pushed back, wavy locks that were brushed simply so people could easily follow the pattern with one glance. 
“Gooooood Afternoon, Midtown!” The intercom blared, and a warning from your teacher hushed your classmates into a sea of scatters. “Before we send you kiddos off, we would like to remind all of you that the Midtown Tigers will be playing against Weston’s Sea Hawks tonight! Show your support by attending the game and cheering for our team. Let’s show those dirty hawks that tonight will be the night that we can bounce back from our 18th consecutive loss!” It continued with its usual announcements of bus delays and afternoon activities before finally blaring that cathartic bell.
Footsteps crowded the halls, and your classmates joined its symphony in heavy to light strides. While you watched, your pace slowed deliberately as Peter’s friends bid him farewell. You overheard them asking him if he was going to join them in the mall, but he declined, blaming his absence on his aunt. They left one by one, until the only occupants were you, your teacher, and Peter.
“Peter?” You were up on your feet, approaching him from the back of the classroom as you slung the bag over your shoulder. Your voice cracked from the parched of your throat, mousy in performance, and you were unsure if Peter heard you. Your mouth opened again to call to him again, but he turned with a friendly smile, raising his brows in interest, and they closed.
“Oh, hey!” His face lit up when he saw you, or maybe you were convincing yourself. Not even your reflection looked at you the way Peter did. You were even surprised he recognized you. Cared to remember you. He hurriedly threw his books into his backpack before swinging it over his shoulder, meeting you in the middle of the row of desks. “What’s up?”
“I…” You’ve only spoken to him twice. The first was a mere greeting, and the second was a painful answer to his worry. 
Are you okay? Yes.
The beating in your chest hiked in rhythms, compelled gravity to rob your voice, but you were conscious enough to steal it back, softly speaking. “I just want to thank you for… last year. I never got to… properly thank you. So, thank you…” You were intoxicated by the amount of times you said those appreciative words, but gratitude sobered you up, offering the latter a small, grateful smile. 
“Oh…” The smile on Peter’s face simmered into a relieved line. He then nodded towards the door for you to follow him, and you did, silently by his side. “You don’t have to thank me, (M/N). I did what anyone would do.”
Everyone let it happened, except for you.
The hallway was quick to clear as students rushed to spend the remaining hours of their Friday without any regrets. The silence was deafening except for the squeak of your shoes and the whispered gossip between faculty members, and for a place you often labeled as your personal hell, it wasn’t so bad when it was purged of those that spawned that definition in your life.
Maybe you were walking slower, or you were keeping with Peter’s pace, or the hallways had undergone construction to stretch the floors, or the awkward silence between the both of you that blurred your perception, but the travel from your classroom to the exit of the building was a journey.
“Is he still bothering you? I don’t know if he’s in your other classes, but he’s not in mine, so…” Peter spoke up, alluding to the classmate who called you disgusting names, shoved your books to the floor, stole the change of your clothes during gym. And you wished it would stop there, at the actions of the cliché bully trope, but it never did. He pushed the door open, politely letting you out first, and you stepped into the warmth with a small thank you,’ and continued walking with him. Summer cicadas harmonized in their greeting.
“No, not anymore.” You lied, dropping that hand that once held onto the padded straps of your backpack to your side. The dark color of your pants masked the bruise on your wrist when you shoved it deep into your pocket. “I have him in a few of my classes, but luckily he’s preoccupied with his friends.”
“Geez, you got his friends too? That’s… gotta be a loud classroom.” He laughed, and you joined in to delude yourself, and Peter, into thinking everything was okay.  
The sound of multiple engines running within the yellow busses reminded you how incredibly enamored you were with Peter. By now, motors would’ve been buried by earbuds, and the walk wouldn’t have been so deafening to your ear canals. But hearing Peter’s voice soothed the damage, and you wished you had a playlist of him saying your favorite words, reading your favorite novels, rescuing you with worried comfort. You wanted to continue the conversation, change the subject, but you never knew how, so it fell to silence. Again.
“I’ll see you around, Peter.” You spoke softly again, paused when you and Peter reached the end of the sidewalk. You were familiar with Peter’s route. He lived in the opposite side of your street, and the curved path to the right practically led him back to his apartment. All he had to do was follow the beige pavement. “…and thank you, again. It means a lot.” A genuine smile, one that you haven’t been able to sprout for weeks, months you could argue, and Peter’s breath hiked.
“Of course…” It took his breath away. The cloudy day was drawing in the last of its colors, but the rare hint of your teeth, the curve of your lips, made the sky above him, behind you, bloom in the softest blues, yellows, and whites. Selfishly, he wished you smiled more, because the release that was pulled from him evened the astonishment of a child seeing stars for the very first time. 
“I’ll see you around, (M/N).”
OCTOBER.
The workload in your classes had picked up, and with the part-time job at the local bookstore, you were envious of customers who had finished their backlog of novels. Mainly working adults. Still, there was never enough hours in the day to immerse yourself in the world of a brave protagonist, slaying off demons and dragons in the pursuit of love. You never got to finish the fantasy novel you were reading, but you’d imagine it ended with the hero beheading the fire-breathing behemoth, and its head would be pridefully worn on a stick like cotton candy. Cheers erupted when the character returned, then roared when their love blessed them with one thankful kiss.
The ladder was anchored to the wooden, though creaky, floors as you held your breath from inhaling dust. When the door was pushed open by curious passersby, particles of dust sailed with the draft that was invited in, and you coughed into the crook of your arm whenever one floated into your throat. Though, you couldn’t be too annoyed. It also provided a test to see if the Halloween decorations could withstand the wind as they sat on hooks that were nailed into the ceilings. Spirals of orange and black ribbons roped cartoonish gravestones, black cats, pumpkins, skulls, ghouls, all the mascots of the holiday, from above. The draft animated them in gentle swings, delicate arcs that cooled the confined space of the bookstore, but as far as you could tell, none of them had landed on the ground.
“Looks great, (M/N)! I think we’re good on the hanging decorations!” Your manager, Anna, gave the metal ladder a strong pat before tending to the fallen dust. It shook in fear, and you did too, immediately clutching to the fly to stabilize it.
“Any else? We still haven’t decorated the windows.” You climbed down cautiously, making sure she was in your line of sight because for all you could know, she could be an omen.
“The stick on the ones I got suck, so I was thinking that we’ll decorate it on Halloween? Before opening?” She said, opening the door after to sweep out the culprits of your coughing fits. 
“Sounds good.” You collapsed the extension of the ladder once you stepped off, folding it into a thicker shape, and nodded before returning the ladder to its rightful place in the storage room.
“Doing anything fun for Halloween?! Parties?!” Anna’s voice boomed despite the door muffling it. The natural luminous of her voice was something you usually cowered away from, especially when she called for you in front of customers. Luckily, the store was closed, vacant of any witnesses to the flare of your cheeks. Cardboard boxes stacked atop of one another, and for some reason, you were suddenly determined to face your procrastination head-on. “Horror movies?!”
“Uh…” The volume of your voice was still muted despite forcing yourself to make it sonorous. It came out in staggered breaths as you flattened the boxes with your weight, stepping on them at the crease and fold, until you were able to fold them into neat, flat shapes. “Not really! I usually don’t do anything for celebrations.”
“Seriously?” The sound of sweeps came closer to you. They sounded like laughs, almost as if they were mocking you. When you looked up, it was Anna’s fretted expression that reminded you that they were just sounds. No one was here to hurt you. Laugh at you. 
It was just you and Anna. And sounds.
“Mm-hmm.��� You simply answered, packing the flattened boxes into a trash bag before storing it back to where the stack previously harbored. The room felt bigger now. You exited after switching off the lights, and took Anna’s broom to sweep up the fuzzy stray materials of cardboard. 
“How come?” Her shoulder supported her leaning stance as she pressed to the wall, watching you diligently work with crossed arms. She gasped out of realization. “Oh no—did something horrible happen on Halloween? Is that why you don’t celebrate?!”
“No, nothing like that!” You laughed. It was always genuine with her. Anna was at least twenty years older than you, but she still kept the youthfulness of a child. You were envious of it. 
“I just…” Big sweeps to walnut flooring kept your mind at ease. The thick hairs brushed evenly, catching lint in the hay. They clung protectively onto the strands the more you brushed, the harder as well. It reminded you of nights, lonesome in your bed. No matter how hard you tried to remove those pesky lints, they always stayed. Always found a way to intrude. “—don’t have parties to go to.”
Nor did you have friends to watch movies with, or a willing family to celebrate with if all plans fell through. It’s been you since you can remember, and you’ve gotten used to it. Though, you’d never admit that to her.
The trail of your voice and the mindless polishing of walnut immediately foiled your discreet speech, but Anna knew better than to prod. From the day you came in for the interview, she remembered the timidness of your slouch, your pattern of speech, your orbs. One could argue that they were nerves, universal tremors one every eighteen year old got when applying for their first job. Then, she trained you. It was just you and her, and the shelves of delicate books. Over the next few weeks, Anna learned that you were as frail as the old spine of donated hardbacks. 
Her knowledge of you only sank surface-deep, barely a scratch or a wound. At one point, she thought it was because of her personality: chipper as a mourning dove, loud as her neighbor’s lawnmower on Sundays, but compared to how she met you five months ago, it delighted her to see progress. Slowly but surely, you opened up to her. She knew your favorite color, your favorite meal, your favorite novel, and she was no longer insecure. There will be a time when she’d meet the root of your soul, and if it took a month, a year, or another, she’d wait.
“Everything okay at school?” She’s been meaning to ask. It was an exciting time for a new business, but incredibly stressful as well. Most never made it after six months, especially within an industry where independent bookstores have become increasingly difficult to sustain with the presence of technology. Anna was just fortunate enough to have seen such quick growth.
Anna took the broom from your hand, stashed it back in the storage room, then guided you to a table for two near the entrance of the store. It was her favorite spot because she loved seeing the wonderment of her customers when they left with the book they couldn’t find anywhere else.
“Yeah,” You quickly answered and offered her a simple smile, devoid of any purpose but to pacify her worries. It worked on your parents, and you liked to think that it worked on Anna as well. “Well, they’re doing some construction in the school gym. I heard that they’re planning to add a room for—“
“That’s great, (M/N), but…” Her arms remained crossed, below her chest, and she nodded to the bruise on your cheek. Purple bloomed high on your cheekbone. Occasionally, it throbbed whenever a draft hit your frail skin. You assumed it was its way to kiss it better, and so you would let it in seek of sating the empty feeling in your stomach. “That. I meant the bruise…”
“Oh—“ Out of instinct, your hand reached up to dab at the purpling skin. Numbed at the first layer, but you pressed deeper, and you hid a jolt with a sudden clear of your throat. “Uh… cat— got me. My mom always said to never play with strays.”
It was a lame excuse and you knew it. Anna did too. Before you could see her face scrunch into a stew of concern, you turned the bruised cheek away and looked to the heights of the sky, out the window, and wished you could fly into the night.
On Halloween, the promotion regarding a sale on donated books, though only paperbacks, if you wore a costume propelled the place to a considerable height. The small size of the store felt even smaller, even more so as Anna’s playlist Halloween music blared in the wall stereo. The sound waves and chatters of excited customers confined you, and you shrunk yourself in corners where it would be coldest. Anna took care of the crowd of patrons, while you assembled the paperbacks in a neatly order within the shelves. 
Anna didn’t expect you to comply in participating in the event of Halloween, so the elation in her face was immediately framed in your mind when she hugged you tight, bruising enough to beckon the former bruise on your cheek to reappear, in your Where’s Waldo outfit. Simple, but you were a simple man.
“Excuse me?” An inquisitive voice tore your focus from arranging the novels in alphabetical order. You were kneeling to fill the lower shelf that was too low for anyone to comfortable browse through, but maintained the position as the crowd seemed to have closed in on you. “Do you know if this book qualifies for the sale, or is it paperback only?”
You looked up through your artificial glasses, and the size of your eyes matched the roundness of your frames when it embarrassingly didn’t take you very long to uncover who was under the layer of green face paint. “Peter?”
“O-oh! (M/N), you work here?” His eyes also widened, but he was sober enough to reach his hand out for you to grab onto. “That’s fitting, I guess. You always went to the library during lunch—I-I mean, not that I watch you or anything. I just— happened to notice…” The heat from your palm jumped onto Peter’s when you held on and pulled yourself to your feet. You weren’t sure what to respond to first, but the closed distance between you and Peter was distracting. A fleeting feeling in your chest, and it still overstays it welcome when you backed a step away. 
Peter’s never been so close to you. He could smell the scent of ocean mist that he likened to previous shopping trips ago. His aunt may would drag him to the nearest retail store and he’d spend every second of the agonizing trip smelling laundry scent boosters while she stocked up on the pantry. He laughed to himself. You seemed like the type to use those.
“Thanks, uh…” You carefully took the hardback in your hand, examining it with several cycles of flips. It was in mint condition. Usually, a poorer state allowed an extra discount. “The sale is only for paperbacks, but…” Your eyes scanned the room. Fewer people now. Anna was still busy entertaining those that came to participate in the costume contest, a sudden endeavor to drive engagement.
“I can make an exception.” There was a swell in Peter’s heart when you gave him a smile, an uncertain small one, but nonetheless, a smile that warmed his insides. He wouldn’t have minded if he had paid full price anyhow, but he also wouldn’t reject the opportunity to save money. 
He followed your steps to the back, away from the engaged crowd, and stilled as you began checking him out. “Just one book?” You looked up, and his lips were already parted as if he was about to say something, but he nodded instead.
Another moment of silence as you took his card after applying the sale to his book, and your fingers drummed to the beat of the music to fill it out, awaiting the receipt to print out. Whenever you had the courage to look at him, he was immersed in the ambiance of the bookstore. Smiling to himself, to Anna, to the laughter of the crowd, and you couldn’t help but hide one yourself, to the ground. When Peter faced you again, you quickly looked away in time, and the receipt rolled out in one smooth motion.
“How are you? Is it always this busy? I’ve never heard of this place.” Peter had a habit of stacking multiple questions with his own observations, with statements, with more questions. Rambles, people would call it. He was attentive, curious, and it all made him the more endearing.
“I’ve been doing okay. Tired, mostly. Miss Wilson’s been keeping me up though.” It was your attempt at a joke, and luckily, it landed when Peter laughed in agreement, elated as if he’d been waiting for the culprit of all-nighters to be of subject.
“Right?!” Peter shook his head when you asked if he wanted a bag, and continued, tucking the book in his armpit when you returned it to him. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love her—she’s awesome. But chill out on the essays! An essay about our essays is a task sent from the devil himself.”
A chuckle escaped from your lips, and a wider smile brimmed your face in support. For the first time, you felt compelled to talk, to engage into conversation.  “Yeah, I missed a few deadlines, but she’s pretty lenient with late work, thankfully.”
“Really? I have a feeling it’s because it’s you! You’re probably her favorite student since you always get the right answers when she calls on you.” He laughed again to escape the awkwardness of his compliment. Subtle, but he hoped you took it pridefully.
Peter looked to the side to see if anyone was coming to conclude their purchase for the night, and was delighted to see the hardwood floor left unattended. “Are you doing anything after this? It’s Halloween, so I imagine people are probably out partying or something.”
“I’m not really a party person.” You nodded to assure yourself, mindlessly rearranging the supplies around the desk to avoid the gaze of his eyes. It sucked you in once, couldn’t look back even if you tried. It was only when Peter turned himself away that you were no longer staring into warm chestnuts. “I only dressed like this since I’d probably look a little out of place if I showed up in my usual uniform, haha.”
“You look cu—“ Peter hurriedly cut himself off, frantic before smiling again. “Nice. You look nice.”
“Thank you,” You returned his smile, soft in form. “What about you? Are you doing anything?”
“Well, I’m not a party person either—oh! There’s this new horror movie that came out a week ago! I’ve been dying to see it,” Peter sparked, gently bouncing on his toes as hope frayed within his words. “If you’re free, would you want to watch it with me?”
“Oh—“ For the first time, you had the option to say ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ and for some reason, Peter was always at the crime of your firsts. “W-what time? I’ll have to see if it’s okay with Anna if—“
“Let me see…” Light reflected off of Peter’s faced as he searched on his phone, but a buoyant smile that revealed his teeth shined brighter. “One showing at eight, another at ten, and one final one at midnight!”
“Is… midnight okay?” You hesitantly asked, and Peter brightened.
“Midnight is perfect.”
When you left from work, you didn’t bother to call for your parents. It would’ve gone to voicemail anyhow. Instead, Anna took the excited initiative to drive you to the theater despite your assurance that walking would’ve sufficed.
Nonsense! I’m getting my coat. Hold on! Stay right there!
The mystery of what held the rest of the night for you frightened you to the core. What if everything went downhill from here? What if Peter never showed up? What if this had been a prank all along? During the car ride, you breathed, and breathed, and breathed.
And then, breathed. 
Inhaled.
Blew in one continuous breath.
Inhaled.
Your chest ran steady again.
That night, Peter made you feel normal. As normal as someone like you could be. 
You didn’t plan on getting your fingers buttery, but Peter assured you that his  popcorn wasn’t going to finish itself. You shared your sour gummies in return. Peter jumped when a ghost flew to the screen, and you did the same from his own erratic movements. You watched the film through half-closed eyes, peeking between the cracks of your greasy fingers, prepared to be startled by the sound of a door closing, and you laughed silently to yourself because it was silly when you flinched to a cat scurrying away.
While you focused, the structure of your nose and lips, your entire side profile, were handsomely illuminated by the flickers of the screen and Peter took in the animation of your presence, a behemoth contrast of the you he’d known silently for years; the you that kept to himself, ate at lunch by himself, did group projects by himself, studied in the library by himself, walked home by himself. It was pathetic, many would heckle to their circle of friends. Peter overheard the tease and taunts, and he wanted to defend you in those moments. But he couldn’t, not until he knew you.
When you felt the air thicken, you turned to Peter and his gaze unfurled the heavy cloud between the two of you until it vanished into smoke. It sucked you in; his eyes. And you stared wide-eyed, bewildered and lost in the sea of broken stars the screen illustrated in Peter’s orbs. They twinkled with every cut of the scene, sparkling under the terror of the performer’s haunting, until they no longer didn’t when he turned away. 
Crimson blanched and wilted into his face, radiated even in the dark when you followed and turned back to the screen. You felt your cheeks rivaling in swatch.
For the first time, you weren’t scared. 
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nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
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jadeittic · 2 months
Text
YOU BELONG WITH ME | tasm!peter parker
PAIRING: high school senior!tasm!peter parker x high school senior!fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 3.9k
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SUMMARY: you can’t help but feel insecure when you realize your best friend peter and the most famous girl in the school are keeping a sweet secret from you.
WARNINGS: cursing/swearing, awkwardness, jealousy, insecurities, self-loathing, reader is an overthinker and assumes things easily. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]
AUTHOR'S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title. angst with happy ending. dedicated to @joshiiieeenesx, thanks for supporting me and requesting this. i hope you’re having a great day!
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DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO BACK TO THE STATION. CLICK HERE FOR ALL THINGS YBWM (reviews, commentary, etc. about this fic).
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It was Friday Night.
Your favorite day and time of the week because of your tradition with Peter to order pizza and watch a movie. Tonight was a bit different though, you both decided to order your least favorite flavor of pizza and watch the lowest-rated movie ever. 
Peter made a joke in the middle of the movie, causing you to laugh and cover your face with your hands. It was a habit you developed since you were a kid when a bully made fun of you for having an ‘ugly-laughing’ face. “Stop,” he chuckled as he captured your wrists with his hands. “Stop what?” you questioned unknowingly, allowing him to hold your wrists and pull them away from your face. You stared at him confusingly.
“Stop covering your face when you laugh,” he said. “I can’t see your pretty face.” Peter would always make little comments here and there about you, most of them being compliments. You ought not to make it serious since you’d always tell flirty jokes to each other, but you just can’t help but feel a little flutter in your stomach every time he would compliment you.
You tried covering the increasing redness of your cheeks with laughter. “I’m serious. Stop covering your face,” he told you. “What if I told you I’m doing it on purpose?” you thought of a quick funny remark.  ��And why, may I ask, are you doing it on purpose?” he quirked an eyebrow. 
“Let’s just say, if you see my beautiful face when I’m laughing, you might just fall in love,” you joked, smirking at him. There was a tinge of the color red in his cheeks, but he was quick to hide it with a chuckle.
“Well, why don’t you let me see your beautiful face then let’s see if I really fall in love?” he remarked. Once again, you laughed because you didn’t know how to respond. Peter was laughing with you when his phone suddenly rang. He quickly stood up, covering the name of the caller with his hand before walking to a private secluded room in his house to answer it. You didn’t mind it. After all, everyone deserved privacy when they’re talking to someone on the phone. Besides, you were actually quite thankful because the phone call interrupted the growing awkwardness in the room. You paused the movie while Peter talked on the phone in the other room.
Minutes passed and you were getting bored of waiting for him. You decided to pull your phone from your jeans pocket and open the Instagram app for a bit. Your feed was pretty much full of your schoolmates that were either busy preparing for prom next friday or busy with the upcoming game on Monday. You scrolled mindlessly, double-tapping each post from your close friends when you stumbled upon a post from her.
Gwen Stacy. Blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect body. The cheer captain, head of the planning committee, the smartest in school… well, not the smartest because that would be Peter… but still the smartest girl in school. Having all that, you’d think she was the type to be the typical mean girl, but no… she’s actually the nicest.
In the picture, she was smiling with the other cheerleaders, their teeth as white as snow and their faces as beautiful as barbie dolls even when they were sweating. Sometimes you just wonder if they ever had a bad hair day or they’re just perfect all the time.
“Please! Gwen, come on!” you heard Peter yell. Gwen? Why was he talking to Gwen Stacy?
“Really? Yes!” you heard him exclaim excitedly. A pang of jealousy hit your chest, the feeling was unwelcome because you knew he wasn’t even yours to begin with. But still, it hurt.
The next thing you heard was his footsteps nearing the door. You collected yourself immediately, greeting him with a smile as he opened the door.
“Sorry about that,” he smiled, with the same fucking smile you fell in love with. He sat next to you on the couch, subtly putting his arm on the back just around where your head was resting. He grabbed the remote from your hand, but for a few seconds, you felt it linger when his hand touched yours.
He pressed the play button and you both continued to watch the movie.
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“Okay, just so we’re clear. You think Peter and Gwen are dating?” your other friend, Mary Jane, iterated on the phone. It was Sunday night, the only time MJ had free time this week since she was also a cheerleader.
“Yes,” you answered clearly. “I heard them talking on the phone the other night. Peter seemed really happy and excited.”
“And what do you feel about that?” she asked.
“Uh–I don’t know?” you admitted.
“I call bull. Come on, I know you’re in love with Peter.”
“Okay. I do have feelings for him… but I don’t think he feels the same about me. He probably asked Gwen to be his prom date even though we promised we’d take each other to the event.”
“So you’re not going to prom anymore?”
“I mean I already have a dress so I guess I’ll still go. It just sucks that I’ll be going without him.”
“Since when did you get a dress?!” 
“Uhh… since last week?” 
“And you didn’t even tell me?” she made a sound of absolute shock. Knowing her, you knew she probably had her hand on her chest while making that sound. “I could’ve helped you pick.”
“It’s not a problem honestly. Besides, I kinda wanted it to be a surprise?”
“Can you at least tell me the color?” she pleaded.
“Blue. Like the kind of blue in Spider-Man’s suit.”
“Weird way to describe a color. Is there a specific reason why you chose blue? I thought you never liked blue.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you but don’t tell anyone about this because I think Peter is kinda embarrassed about it… Peter is obsessed with Spider-Man. He’s such a huge fan of his–maybe even his number one fan. He even tried to hide it from me, but when I found a Spider-Man suit in his closet he just started getting really nervous and he only stopped when I told him it’s fine if he’s a fan. I’m not judging him, I think Spider-Man is really cool too,” you explained. “I was hoping he’d notice the color reference but now that he’s going with Gwen Stacy, I doubt he would even look at me.”
“You really think Peter would ignore you? Have you seen how that man looks at you?”
“He looks at everyone like that. It’s nothing special,” you denied.
“Listen, believe what you want to believe but I know Peter is definitely in love with you too. But if you did end up alone and out of place at the event, you’re welcome to sit with me.”
“Thanks, but you literally have a date. I don’t wanna be a third wheel,” you laughed. “I appreciate the thought though,” you exchanged goodbyes not long after that, wishing her good luck on their cheer performance.
You thought hard about what she said. Peter did become more clingy to you these last few months and he always made sure to text or call you every day. You guessed there really was a chance Peter shared the same feelings with you. 
Maybe he was just talking to Gwen as a friend.
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You were at the gymnasium where you'd have to watch student-athletes pass the ball to each other, all having the same objective to shoot the ball in their respective goals. And when a member of a team claimed their shot, it would repeat all over again. 
You were never into sports. If you had a choice, you’d rather stay in bed and continue reading Looking For Alaska, but instead, you were stuck sitting on the bleachers while watching cheerleaders dance their routine in such a flawless manner. As much as you wanted to focus on MJ and support her, your eyes couldn’t help but look at Gwen. She really was mesmerizing.
You were too busy comparing her shiny legs and the way they moved with their short flowy skirts with your simple t-shirt and sneakers to even notice someone sitting beside you.
You continued watching Gwen dance, focusing on her pretty face and realizing that even in her sweaty condition she still kept dazzling everyone in the room with her beautiful smile. You noticed her wink in your direction. For a moment you thought she was winking at you, but when you followed the direction she was smiling at you noticed it was directed at someone beside you—Peter. 
Funny. You didn’t even know Peter was beside you.
“Hi?” you greeted, putting your best smile in front of him while your stomach ached from cruel jealousy.
“Hey,” he simply replied, before focusing on the phone he just got out of his pocket. He was busy texting someone. 
“So…you already have a suit for Friday?” you asked, trying to start a conversation. He shook his head. “Nope. But I plan on looking later today.”
“Cool. Do you want me to go with you? I don’t have anything to do after this,” you offered. 
He stopped and finally looked at you. You noticed how his eyes widened at your question and after mere seconds of looking at your eye, he looked away. He didn’t even need to open his mouth, his body language already told you that he already had someone he was going with.
You felt too sick to even hear his reply, immediately knowing the answer. You excused yourself, going straight to the bathroom to try to compose yourself and your body that was slowly starting to shake. You looked at yourself in the mirror, yelling inside your head to stop the tears that were threatening to fall. 
You and Peter were supposed to be inseparable. From childhood up until that moment earlier on the bleachers, you thought you would end up together.
All those years, you have convinced yourself you would be together and told the stars that he belonged with you.
But maybe he belonged with someone else.
And if you truly loved him, who were you to stop him from following his heart?
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The moment you stepped inside the school tomorrow morning, Peter immediately wrapped his arm around your shoulder.
If it was yesterday or the days before, you would’ve loved it and your stomach would’ve already been swarmed with butterflies. But today, all it felt was aching pain.
“Hey,” he kissed your cheek, a thing he always did whenever he saw you at school. “MJ told me you went home early yesterday because you weren’t feeling well. Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve walked you home.”
“It’s fine, really,” you answered. It wasn’t fine, but how could you tell him he was the reason you couldn’t bear to stay at school yesterday?
“Well, I missed you. You got me really worried.”
And there it was again, the feeling of your heart jumping just from the words he said and how his voice spoke them. Was Gwen even okay with him putting his arm around your shoulder and walking with you in the hallways?
You did your best acting like everything was alright for the rest of today. Peter was busy texting Gwen for most of the time anyway, it wasn’t hard to convince him everything was fine.
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Classes for Wednesday and Thursday were suspended to give way for prom preparations. You didn’t have much to do on Wednesday, so when MJ offered an idea to practice doing makeup and putting on the dresses to prepare for prom, you agreed.
You sat in your room in front of your vanity mirror while MJ did your makeup for you. She matched the eyeshadow with the color of your dress, and you must admit, she did amazing. Next was your hair, you requested it to be an updo, with the hairpins you picked out scattered attractively.
For a moment, you wondered what Peter could be doing right now. His house was just next to yours, his bedroom window facing yours and if you only pulled your curtains aside, you would see him through his window—if it wasn’t covered by his curtains.
Mary Jane snapped you back to reality by complimenting the details of the dress she just pulled out of your closet. “I need to see you in this dress now.”
You chuckled but complied nonetheless. With her help, you carefully put on the dark blue long dress. “Shit. This dress is made for you,” she complimented. It was true, you were indeed a vision. The dress hugged your body perfectly and the details were perfect to your liking. You never liked the color blue, but this dress got you second thinking. 
After putting on your heels, you checked yourself out in the mirror when MJ’s phone suddenly rang. “Peter? Hi,” she answered. As soon as she said his name, you turned around to face her.
“Are you okay?” MJ asked Peter. “You sound ill.”
“What’s happening?” you didn’t care anymore if Peter wasn’t talking to you. Something was wrong with him based on MJ’s reaction, and you were concerned.
“Oh my god.”
“MJ, what is it?” 
“Something is really wrong with him. I think we need to go to his hou–” she didn’t have the opportunity to finish her sentence when you immediately walked out of your room still in your dress and on your way to Peter’s house. MJ followed you but stayed outside Peter’s house. She smirked the moment you entered his house. Everything was going as planned.
Aunt May was thankfully on vacation somewhere, you couldn’t imagine her reaction if she saw you rushing towards her nephew’s room in a long dress and in heels. 
You carefully knocked on his bedroom door, announcing your presence. “Y/N?” he asked and you hummed in response. “I’m in here,” he answered from the next room. As far as you can remember, that room was an empty one. You weren’t sure why Peter was in there but in times of emergencies like this one, you didn’t care. “Can I open the door?” you asked.
“Yes.”
You did not expect what you saw.
The room was dark as a result of the windows being covered. On the floor were littered little candles with your favorite scent lit up to light the room in a romantic manner. There was an area left for you to walk leading to the middle of the room, which had a space just enough for two people. You also noticed the petals of roses scattered on the floor as a string version of your favorite song started playing. 
A figure emerged from the shadows—Peter. He offered his hand for you to take and only then when he led you to the middle did the fire from the candles revealed his outfit. He was wearing a suit that perfectly matched the color of your dress. You didn’t know how he knew the exact color of your dress, you would ask him that later.
You were both speechless, neither knowing what to say. “Wow…” he breathed out. “How could a person look so beautiful? You are unreal.”
“Thank you,” you blushed. “You look handsome too.”
He held your hand and guided it towards his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of it before holding each of your hands with both of his.
“Peter?” you started to say. “What–”
“You know I prepared a whole speech just for this moment,” he interrupted. “And then as soon as I saw you, I just forgot every single thing in the world because you’re the only one that matters.”
Tears were starting to gloss your eyes but before you could start crying from his sentiment, you asked him a question that has been vexing you for quite a while.
“What about Gwen?”
His face was quick to react to your question. His forehead scrunched up, looking at you as if to tell you if you could emphasize your question.
“I thought you were together. You were talking to each other pretty much the whole week. You were texting and calling each other, she was with you when you picked your suit, and then I saw her wink at you at the game.”
His face slowly dawned with realization. As soon as he realized what you were talking about, he couldn’t help but laugh. But upon seeing your worried face, he stopped laughing at once and looked straight into your eyes with absolute seriousness.
“Gwen and I are nothing more than just friends. We are not together. We’ve been talking to each other a lot because I asked her for help on how to surprise you. She also helped me pick the right suit so I wouldn’t embarrass myself with a lousy one. She winked at me at the game because she was excited that after the game ended, we would set up this surprise. And also because I was sitting next to you in the bleachers, she kinda saw me stare at you while you were busy watching the cheer routine. The wink was just her teasing and being excited. It doesn’t mean anything, I swear. It’s only you. I only want you.”
“Shit. So I really just overthought the whole situation,” you chuckled. “I’m so stupid.”
“No, you’re not stupid. Don’t invalidate your feelings, It’s completely understandable. If I was you I’d think the same too.”
After a short moment of soft understanding silence, you felt him stiffen. His hands now held yours a little bit tighter. “Can I ask you a question?” he finally said.
“Let me guess, you want me to be your prom date?” you tried to ease the tension with the obvious question.
“Yes, and no.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I want to take you to prom, yes. But that’s not the only thing I want. I want to take you on dates, I want to dance with you not just at events organized by the school, I want to buy you flowers, every day if I can; I want to watch scary movies with you and laugh when you’re too scared and you hide yourself with a pillow, I want to watch sad movies with you and bring you tissues and cuddle you the moment you cry, I want to watch romantic movies with you and cringe together when the characters do something embarrassing and wrap my arms around you when you blush at something sweet that they do. I want the tears, the pain, the frustration, the confusion, the sweetness, the laughter—everything. I want everything. With you.”
“Pete…”
“We’re seniors. Next year, we’re going to college. We will take on different paths and places, but before that even happens, I want you to be my place that’s never changing. And if you feel the same, I want to be your place that’s never changing too. You have been my best friend since we were kids, and I don’t want my memory of us to be just two people being friends since childhood,” he said before resting his forehead against yours. “I am in love with you, Y/N L/N. Would you be willing to enter a relationship that’s more than friends with me?”
Tears glossed over your eyes again, but this time, you let one fall. Peter was quick to wipe it with his hand. “Tell me you don’t feel the same and I will not hold it against you. Tell me you don’t feel the same and I will not cross the line of being more than friends. Know that I will not force you into a relationship you do not want. Tell me if you don’t feel the same and I–”
“Yes,” you stopped him before he could finish his sentence. “The answer is yes. I am in love with you as well, Peter Parker. I have been for a long time.”
Peter smiled, now feeling his own tears try to escape his eyes but he didn’t let them fall. “May I dance with you?”
You chuckled but agreed, letting him guide you into position. Your forearms rested on his shoulders, your hands softly stroking the back of his neck while his hands were positioned at both sides of your waist. As the music still played in the background, you both started swaying.
“I can’t take my eyes off of you. You’re gorgeous,” he commented. “You don’t look so bad yourself. Your suit even matched my dress,” you said back.
“I’ll have to thank MJ for that.”
“Wait–MJ is a part of this?” 
“Of course, she is. How’d you think I knew the color of your dress?”
You suddenly remembered the conversation you had with MJ when she asked you about the color of your dress. And then you also remembered that MJ was the reason why you were even inside Peter’s house right now in the first place. Peter called her and then she said that something was wrong with him and urged you to come here. Where was she even now anyways?
Peter laughed as he watched your face change from confusion to realization. “You know what–I’ll give it to y’all. You, Gwen, and MJ are good at this,” you admitted.
“The dressing up with our prom outfits and dancing was my idea though,” he spoke as he guided you into a spin. “I wanted our first dance to be private, not in a room filled with other students.”
You saw him glance at your lips for a moment before looking back into your eyes. “I also want to do this,” he said as he leaned in closer and met your lips with his.
You’ve imagined this moment ever since your heart started beating for him. But still, the feeling of his lips against yours for real was better than what you’d imagined it to be. The kiss was soft but intimate, neither of you having a need to rush into things but at the same time making up for lost time pining over each other silently. You wished you could kiss him forever and stay like this but you eventually needed to pull away to breathe.
“So, you really thought I was in love with Gwen?” he teased while you were catching your breath.
“Way to ruin the moment,” you chuckled, lightly punching his arm before nodding.
“Shit. I really made you jealous?” he seemed really proud of what he had done from the way he was smirking.
“Are you happy?” you jokingly asked, rolling your eyes with fake annoyance.
“Am I happy? Of course, I am. I just kissed you.”
You couldn’t find the words to reply as you blushed harder than you’d ever blushed before. Instead, you just laughed out of blissful happiness.
For the first time ever, he saw you laugh without covering your face and it was the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. He couldn’t help but kiss you again.
Needless to say, the future was exciting.
If only he could tell you that he was Spider-Man.
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SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx
TASM!PETER PARKER TAGLIST:  @mymilkducts @i-am-woman-strong @lauraneedstochill @jeanettexkillian @ms-mandalore @enaraism @alessandralol @sad-darksoul @sincericida @mentallystablepotato @mich0731 @logolepsic-insomniac @k0miiki @dreamsarecloserwithyou @jumilzzz @primroseparker @preciousbabypeter @myheartonthemove @rebecca-johnson-28 @silkholland @ellievickstar @okkulta @geekygamerchick @starqwerty20 ​ @the-quiet-observer @softiepeterpan
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jadeittic · 2 months
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peter and reader literally js making out and being adorable !
i kinda got carried away w this one so it’s a little bit ✨spicier✨ than intended-
!!! 18+ (MDI) !!!
content warnings — a really steamy make–out with Peter, sexual content, teasing.
✨masterlist✨.
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1.2k.
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The emptiness of Peter’s apartment carried his voice through the echoes, making the space feel that much bigger as you sunk into his couch. His Aunt May had gone out with some friends for the evening, making some suggesting jokes and comments that made you and Peter blush, even long after she’d left.
All the lights were off in the apartment, excluding the lamp behind Peter’s closed bedroom door, and the colorful glow of the television seated in front of you. You and your boyfriend were cuddled on his couch, entranced by George Lucas’s galactic storytelling. Your head had previously been resting on his shoulder, but due to Peter’s current geeky–tangent, you sat up to listen to him better.
“He used to make lightsaber sounds when they were practicing, and he’d have no idea.” Peter was quite expressive when he explained little Star–Wars facts to you. There was something about the way his eyes lit up, and he’d use his arms to guide the sentence.
You bit the inside of your cheek, hiding your amusement as best as possible whilst you listened. Your entire focus was set to him, but the passion he had for these movies never ceased to entertain you. The two of you had been dating for roughly five months, and from the little mental list you were creating of your favorite Peter things, these conversations were one of your top picks.
Peter’s eyes kept flickering back and forth from you to the movie screen, glowing happily as he went on with his vent about Revenge of the Sith, more importantly, Ewan McGregor. “He had been so used to making the effects when he was younger, that when they’d film their battle scenes, Ewan made the sound effects out of habit.”
As much as you had been paying attention to his words, your thread of thought was more occupied with the enthusiasm laced in his voice. The timid dimples that threatened to say hello in the midst of his smile, the ecstatic gesture of his hands, and the glistening tint of excitement that strung within your eye contact. You’d been so entranced by his little geek–out, you almost forgot to respond.
Your grin grew a little, despite every Star–Wars related response fleeting from your brain. You let the first thought you could muster slip through your lips. “You’re adorable.” You probably could’ve given a more thorough and engaged response, but seeing the red that flooded Peter’s expression made it all the more worth it.
Peter looked at you for a moment, completely flustered. He was off guard at the fact that ‘you’re adorable’ was your only response to his Star–Wars tangent. His lips parted a few times to speak, but his words failed every time. “Shut up..”
Carefully, you slid yourself closer to him beneath your shared throw blanket, looking up at him. Your head shook in response as you placed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “No.” You replied between kisses, placing a few more across his face. “I need to tell you how sweet and adorable you are...” Sooner than later, your lips found their way to his, connecting in such a sickly sweet way.
The kiss you shared seemed to ease the nerves that accompanied the blush on his face. You could feel the warmth of his fingers trace your upper thighs, pulling one across his legs so you could straddle his lap. You loved the feeling of your lips piecing together; the upper, then the lower, and the way your bodies fit together just as perfectly. It was intoxicating.
“I need to tell you how sweet and adorable you are..” Peter spoke, breathless between your kisses. His voice hummed lower than before, rasping in the back of his throat. Even though he’d just been particularly focused on the movie, his mind now went to other places. Just the thought of your intimacy, mixed with the way his hands kneaded the plush of your hips, sent a thrilling sensation straight down to your lower stomach.
Eyes shut, you were the one to first part from the kiss. “But we’re talking about you, Peter.” You lulled, feeling the way his lips chased after yours to stall your argument. You tucked your head away from his, your left thumb pressing itself on his lips as a barrier. You took the opportunity to cradle his face with your right hand in the process.
Your eyes slowly opened to meet Peter’s, fighting a smirk at how desperately he looked at you. You stared at him through your lashes, keeping your face irresistibly close to his. “I’m not going to kiss you until you take the compliment..” You teased, speaking barely above a whisper. You trusted him enough to remove your thumb, not even a little surprised by how eager he was to kiss you again.
It was easy to dodge him, and delectable to feel the light brushing of lips on yours; the urgency and impatience in his breath fanned against your parted lips, driving you just about as crazy as it drove him. The power you held was ravishing. Tension was quick to build between the two of you, binding both of you that much closer together. It took every bone in your body to fight the urge and cave to his need for you. His head craned in closer, doing everything he could to press his lonesome lips back to yours.
Peter tried to find a loophole. His hands grasping at your ass, his lips trailed and teased at your jawline when you’d dodge him. He found it infuriating, but also just as enjoyable. “Fine...” He huffed, smirking lightly. “Thank you.” Peter met your lips hungrily when you kissed him again, as though he’d been deprived of your embrace for years.
The kiss was much rougher than before, fueling the growing need for friction between your thighs. You rocked your hips against his, pressing the ache in your core to his growing erection. A heavy breath caught in your throat, lips parting further at the pressure. It was easy to let the world around you melt away, getting lost in Peter’s touch as his fingers tugged on your hair, and traveled under the thin fabric of your shirt.
Just like that, the jingle of May’s keys fumbling at the door tied you back to the crisp presence of reality. You flew off your boyfriend’s lap, seating yourself beside him like you had been moments prior. Swift movements brought a pillow to hide Peter’s arousal, and just like that, it looked like you two were merely watching a movie together. Well, minus the matching red hues on your cheeks.
May hummed a tune quietly to herself, mirroring the smile you sent her as she walked into the dark apartment. “The girls and I are heading to Jenny’s for the night, but I wanted to grab my Hennessy.” She chimed, strutting into the kitchen like she’d be out in a jiffy. Her attention got caught on the television for a moment, her smiling growing. “Oh! Pete, you found it!” May glanced at you, “Did he tell you that he spent all afternoon looking for his collectors DVD? He was really looking forward to showing it to you.”
You watched the way Peter’s head hit the back of the couch, pressing his palms into his face to try and mask his embarrassment. “May, stop!” He whined, sustaining out the words to emphasize just how flustered he got. His words were muffled through his hands, but you still couldn’t help but find it adorable. He was just too cute. You just had to let the giggles slip through your lips.
Yep, no doubt about it; Peter’s geeky Star–Wars obsession was definitely one of your favorite things about him. That, and your steamy make–out sessions.
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jadeittic · 2 months
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i am an ally to all embarrassing and uncool women forever and ever
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jadeittic · 2 months
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god i hate knowing i have stuff to do it's like bearing a curse
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jadeittic · 2 months
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I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 7
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Warnings: slight angst, reader and Eddie getting high together, mentions of cheating and break up's, mentions of bullying, reader and eddie are really affectionate with each other but it’s all platonic. mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of Eddie's abusive dad
Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler
Summary: Eddie tells you about the night he found Steve at the hideout.
Word Count: 4.6k
A/N: well, I finally figured out how to make headers, let’s see if I will keep doing them haha
masterlist
-
The room smells like hot chocolate, cinnamon and a hint of Eddie’s cologne. The mug on the table that was filled to the brim is now halfway empty. A box of Christmas cookies that your mom gave him when he came by last night is in between the two of you. He hasn’t stopped munching on them since you started the movie; Halloween. 
You couldn’t choose between Friday the 13th and Halloween so you let him pick. 
After you let your friends know that you were leaving, you and Eddie went to the diner to eat something before you went back to his trailer after renting a few movies at Family Video. 
“I can’t believe that this is your favorite movie,” Eddie says as he bites into the snowflake shaped cookie. 
You turn to look at him. He is still wearing the same clothes as before just like you. 
“Are you judging me?” You snort, swatting his arm. “You literally picked it.”
He chuckles and looks at you with a smirk, “I picked between the ones you chose.”
“You literally said that Halloween is one of your favorite movies!” 
He shrugs, chewing the cookie before he speaks up again, “maybe I lied.”
You roll your eyes and lean back, “so what’s your favorite movie then, master of dungeons?”
The nickname makes him chuckle, he turns his head away from the screen, “Halloween.” 
He laughs when you shake your head in disbelief, grabbing one of the pillows, you hit him with it, causing him to laugh harder. 
“Dork.” 
He snorts at you, “dork? What happened with the master of dungeons?” 
You lean closer to him and look into his eyes with a serious look on your face, “he turned into a massive dork.”
“If I’m a dork then what are you?” 
“A fairy witch,” you wink at him and reach for one of the cookies before you lean back. 
His eyes flash with amusement, his lips curl into a smile, “right,” he laughs, “is the fairy witch gonna stay over tonight?” 
You face him again, the cookie is still in your hand. There’s a knowing look in his eyes.
He knows your mom won’t be home tonight, she is working the night shifts this week and won’t be home until the morning. If there is one thing that Eddie had learned about you in the time you had become friends, is that you hate going to sleep when you are home alone, he doesn’t know why but he noticed your anxiety early on. He saw the tired look in your eyes in the mornings and he noticed how easily you would drift off to sleep when he came by after school to study. You would make up excuses when he’d ask you about it but he could see through you. 
He doesn’t know the reasoning behind your fears but he understands it. When he was a kid, he was restless, he struggled to sleep at nights because of his dad, who usually came home late after spending the night drinking or doing drugs. Whenever Eddie would hear the front door opening, his heart would start racing and he would be on high alert – his dad always picked fights with his mom and all Eddie ever wanted to do was to protect her. But he was just a kid and his dad was a violent man. 
Eddie couldn’t protect her. 
When he moved in with Wayne, nothing changed for the first few months. He kept staying up at nights – the anxiety and the fear that always lingered kept him up. Whenever he would fall asleep, nightmares would wake him up. He would hear the trailer door being slammed open, he would hear his mom screaming, his dad yelling and hitting things. Eddie would wake in cold sweat, he would jump up from the bed and run out of the room to stop his dad from hitting her only to realize that the trailer door never opened, his dad never came in and his mom would never be there again. 
He knows that you are struggling with something too but he would never push you to talk. He just wants to protect you. 
“We could watch Friday the 13th and y’know, share a joint.” 
You swallow. 
“You don’t mind me staying over?”
Eddie frowns at your question and shakes his head, “why would I ask if I minded you staying over? You know you’re always welcome here, sweetheart.” 
You smile at his words. Eddie always knows how to make you feel safe and comfortable. Heather and Chrissy make you feel that way too but it’s different with them. You love and appreciate them but there are things that you can’t say to them – not because you don’t trust them but because you wouldn’t be able to deal with their pitiful looks, it’s been bad enough already after he dumped you. 
You aren’t the only one who refuses to speak about certain things. You know that Chrissy has a secret, one that Heather is keeping safe from you. It hurts a little because a part of you is scared that it might have something to do with you. Why else would they keep a secret from their best friend?
“Then I’d love to stay the night.” 
He smiles, “cool.”
After you finish watching the movie, you carry the empty mugs and the box of cookies back into the kitchen. Eddie turns off the TV and reaches for the other movie tape before he leads you into his room. He turns on the small lamp on his nightstand and throws the tape on his bed. He walks over to his dresser and opens the top drawer. 
“You know, the joint you mentioned earlier…” you mumble as you let yourself fall on his bed, curiously staring at the handcuffs that remain a mystery to you. 
“You know, they should be calling you ‘the stoner’, not me,” he snorts. He turns back to you and hands you a shirt, he eyes you up and down, “here, that dress is pretty but it can’t be comfortable to sleep in,” he laughs. 
“How kind of you,” you chuckle. You unfold the shirt, your eyes widen a little, “isn’t that your favorite one?” 
He nods as he takes the chain around his neck off and places it on his nightstand. 
“My favorite girl gets my favorite shirt,” he says, ruffling your hair as he winks at you. 
You swat his hand away and laugh, “how many girls do you say that to, Eddie?” 
He raises his brows and places his hand on his chest, “you think I’m bringing home girls? Did you forget who I am?” He laughs, shaking his head. 
You furrow your brows. You drop the shirt on your lap and tilt your head to look at him. 
You and Eddie haven’t been friends for long but you feel comfortable with each other – comfortable enough for him to take his shirt off in front of you. He throws it over his chair, he stands there shirtless for a second, scratching the spot around his new tattoo. He is just your friend but you are not blind, Eddie is pretty in a way no other guy at school is – except for Steve.
“You’re saying that you don’t bring any girls home?” You ask as you carefully pull the straps of your dress down your arms before you put the shirt on. Too lazy to get up and change in the bathroom, you take the dress off after pulling the shirt down to your thighs. 
He puts on a black tank top and closes the drawer. “And no, I don’t bring any girls home. I’m a freak, nobody wants me.” 
“Don’t say that,” you frown. 
“Well, it’s the truth,” he chuckles as he drops down on the bed beside you after getting the pre rolled joint and a lighter, “girls don’t want me and honestly, I don’t care. I wouldn’t want to bring random girls home anyways.” 
You raise your brows in surprise, it makes him chuckle but his eyes flash with confusion. 
“What?” 
“You actually wouldn’t bring home girls?” You ask. “Like, not even if they were throwing themselves at you?”
“You mean if I was popular?” He snorts.
You nod.
He shakes his head, he scoots closer to you and offers you the joint. You take it in between your fingers and bring it up towards your mouth, wrapping your lips around it, you look at him expectedly, nudging your chin towards the lighter in his hand. He holds it up to the joint and flicks the lighter, holding the flame against the bud of the joint. You inhale and close your eyes. 
Eddie chuckles and pats your back when you open your eyes and exhale the smoke without coughing this time. 
“Like a real stoner.” 
“Shut up,” you chuckle and offer him the joint which he takes right away. He places it in between his lips and lies back, tucking his arm behind the pillow. He looks up at the ceiling and sighs after exhaling the smoke. For a moment, it’s silent between the two of you. 
You stand up and place your dress over the back of his chair after folding it. You turn on the TV before you plop back down on the bed. 
“I won’t lie to you, I’ve hooked up with uh – maybe three girls but they didn’t bother sticking around, they wouldn’t even look at me afterwards, they looked disgusted, every single one of them. I-I don’t know what I was thinking, I was hoping that it would be different each time but they were the same, all of them. The sex was good but uh I honestly don’t see the point of it if they don’t bother sticking around or if there’s no actual meaning behind it.”
Your heart breaks for him. You can imagine what he must have felt like when they treated him that way. You can see the sadness in his eyes, even when he tries to mask it. 
You scoot closer to him and reach for his hand, his eyes meet yours and he smiles at you. 
“You deserve better Eddie,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. “They were stupid cunts.” 
A laugh falls from his lips, he tries to mask the hurt in his eyes with amusement but you can see through him, just like he can see through you. 
“You know, Steve wouldn’t look at me either, sometimes. He just uh, he would fuck me, he would finish and then he would pass out. He rarely ever held me or kissed me, he almost never said ‘I love you’ either.”
Eddie frowns at your words. He isn’t shocked but he is angry. 
“It hurt so bad because I loved him so much and all I wanted was for him to just hold me and tell me that he loves me but he didn’t and it made me overthinking everything,” you mumble as you blink the tears away, “and then there was Tommy who always said how men need new partners all the time, how they get bored with their girlfriends and I was praying that that wasn’t the case for Steve, that the reason why he never held me or kissed me was because he was just bad at being affectionate and romantic but then he agreed with what he said even though I was right there and it uh, it hurt, really fucking bad. I kinda lied to myself though, I kept telling myself that he did love me, that he didn’t get bored with me but then he left me for her and he changed for her so uh, I figured that Tommy was right all along.” 
Eddie scoffs, he shakes his head at your words, “that’s not true, sweetheart.”
“It’s not?” You ask as you look back up at him. 
“No. Tommy is a shittalker and Steve is an idiot – like a real idiot,” Eddie says as his eyes widen. He laughs a little, it’s a humorless laugh but a laugh nonetheless. “He was a piece of shit for not treating you the way you deserve to be treated but I think that he is one of those guys who lets his friends words get to him, who feels pressured to keep his reputation as some fucking heartbreak King rather than be a good boyfriend.” He looks like he knows something that you don’t. “He’s also the type of guy who doesn’t know what he has until it’s gone.” 
“That makes sense,” you say even though you are not sure whether it actually makes sense or not. He almost kissed you and then he told you that he still loves you, that he always loved you only to show up to the dance with Nancy, like nothing ever happened. 
Eddie stares at you. Your brows are furrowed and you have that same confused and lost look in your eyes that you always have whenever you get lost in your thoughts. 
“Hey uh, I should probably tell you something,” he says as he sits up. He scratches the back of his neck and offers you the joint. You take it but don’t smoke it yet. 
“What’s up?” 
He runs his fingers through his curls and he takes a deep breath, “I drove him home last night.”
“Huh?”
He sighs, “Steve. I drove him home last night. I went to the Hideout to get my notebook and he was there getting plastered. He followed me outside and started asking about the jacket,” he mumbles, pointing to the jacket that is now back in his room again. “He got all pissed and jealous.”
You roll your eyes and scoff at his words.
“He calmed down when I told him we’re friends but uh, he tried to leave and I would’ve felt awful letting him drive home like that so I drove him home.” 
A smile tugs at your lips, Eddie’s kindness is something that always warms your heart. To know that he is showing such kindness to people who don’t deserve it just proves even more how amazing he is. 
“He started crying.”
A shocked expression takes over your face and you draw back a little, “what?” 
“Yeah,” Eddie chuckles as he shakes his head. “He uh– well, first he insulted my music taste and then I turned on the radio for him, David Bowie came on and boom, I have a sobbing King Steve in my van.” 
“Oh,” you whisper, your gaze softens. “David Bowie?” 
“Mhmm.” He reaches for the joint again and places it between his lips, taking a drag before he places it into the ashtray on his nightstand. “Heroes.” 
Your lips part and your face falls. It was your song. Yours and his. To know that it has such a hold on him still, makes you feel things that you want to keep buried. 
You push yourself up and sit in front of him, “then what?”
Eddie’s brown eyes soften, he can see the pain in your features, the love that you still have for him. He can’t imagine how much pain there still is. He clears his throat.
“He said he misses you, that he doesn’t know what to do without you and that he wants you back.”
Your eyebrows draw together and your eyes feel hot with tears. Your heart hurts. After all, you still want him, deep down you do but you won’t take him back, not after everything he did. Not after the way he treated you, not after he cheated on you emotionally, not after he made you doubt everything, not after he told you that he never loved you, not after he left you for another girl. 
You look down to hide the tears in your eyes. After almost two months, you should be feeling better, you were starting feeling better but then he had to rip the bandaids of your wounds that he had given you. 
You don’t like crying in front of other people, you have never cried in front of Eddie before  but right now, you can’t really stop the tears from falling. It’s all just too much. 
“Hey,” Eddie whispers. His eyes soften and he doesn’t even hesitate before he opens his arms for you, offering you a hug that you so desperately need. You crawl over to him and let yourself fall into his arms. He wraps his arms around you as you lay your head on his chest. He rubs your back gently. “I’m here, I got you.”
You close your eyes and melt into the hug, this is what you needed. 
This is what he never gave you. The feeling of comfort and safety. The feeling of knowing that he won’t push you away again after a few minutes. 
You loved Steve – you love him. He was there but he was never with you. His mind was somewhere else, it always was. He gave you moments but he never gave you his all. With him you were never alone but god, you were so lonely. 
Eddie keeps holding you. The sound of your cries and the voices in the TV fill the silence in the room. 
He keeps rubbing your back, he plays with your hair and he doesn’t let go. 
Why couldn’t he just hold you like he does? 
“I know that this won’t make anything better but I think he loves you and he is starting to realize what he lost – only a man in love would get drunk at a bar he hates and break down in front of a guy he hates, also.” 
You sniffle and grip his shirt tighter. 
“Then why is he still with her? Why didn’t he love me before?”
“I think he always loved you, he was just too dumb to see and she,” he pauses, sighing. “She’s probably just a rebound now. Honestly, I think he was scared of all of this, his love for you. He was scared of it so he just threw it away and fucked it all up and now he’s following you around like some lost puppy.”
He does look like one, with his stupid brown eyes and the sad look in them. 
“Why are you telling me this, Eddie?”
He takes a deep breath, he looks down at you but you hide your face as you wipe your tears away. 
“I don’t know, I just think that he made a mistake and that the pain he put himself through shaped him into a different person,” he says, still glancing down at you, “I know you think that she changed him but that’s not the truth. I think he changed because of you – he’s still a dick and I don’t think that he deserves you but for what it’s worth, he does love you and he did love you even when he didn’t act that way but I saw the way he looked at you.”
You sniffle, trying to control your breathing as you look up at him, “what do you mean?” 
His eyes soften and he hugs you even tighter, “when you were still together, he always looked at you like.. shit, like you hung the moon and the stars,” he chuckles. “I was shocked when I found out that he left you for some other girl. Made no sense to me, still doesn’t, by the way.”
You don’t know whether his words make you feel better or worse. 
Eddie’s brown eyes are filled with sincerity and softness. 
He can’t understand how Steve could do this to you. How he could just treat you so horribly and break your heart so easily. 
“I think he really wants you back but I don’t think that he deserves a second chance, not yet.”
“Not yet?” 
“I’m not gonna say that he will ever deserve one but maybe–” he pauses, he sighs as he watches the tears rolling down your cheeks, “maybe he will change and maybe he will fight for you and maybe it will be worth giving him that chance.”
You scrunch your face up and slowly shake your head, “I can’t.”
“You don’t have to,” he says as he squeezes your arms, “it’s just, I can see that you love him and as much as I don’t like him or the idea of you going back to him, he really loves you too – it would be a shame if you both spend the rest of your lives longing for each other when you could just be together.” 
“What would you do?” You ask. You place your palms against his chest and you lean your chin on the top of your hands. “If you were in my place.”
He blinks and he stares at you for a long moment. 
“I would just focus on myself for now,” he mumbles. He reaches his hand out to touch your hair, running his fingers through it, “I would find things that I enjoy doing – not what I was forced to enjoy.” 
You look down and sigh. 
“I would try out new things, focus on school and I know that you will snatch that diploma, I’d get the hell out of here after that. Maybe in the future, you and Steve will find your way back to each other or maybe you will meet someone who will love you the way you deserve to be loved,” he says.
You’re met with a soft look in his eyes when you raise your head to face him again. You smile at him. 
“You will snatch that diploma too, Eddie. I’ll help you.”
“I know you will,” he smiles. 
“And then we should get out of here together – we should move to LA so you can become the rockstar that you’re meant to be. We can rent a place together, I always wanted to live with a friend.”
He laughs at your words but then he falls quiet and his eyes flash with something you can’t read. 
“You know that might be a good idea.”
“I know it is.”
“Shit,” he chuckles, “we should actually do that.”
“Right?”
“Right,” he smiles.
“And what will you be?” He asks, turning his head to look at you as you lie back beside him. 
You lick your lips and stare at the new poster on his ceiling. What do you want to be? Who do you want to be?
You furrow your brows in concentration, a weird feeling settles in your chest. You don’t know. You don’t know anything, it seems like. Who even are you?
“I-I’m not sure.”
Eddie can sense the stress you’re feeling, he takes your hand in his, “hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to know yet.”
“I just.. I don’t even know what I want, Eddie,” you whisper, “I don’t even know who I am.”
You turn back to him, your sad eyes meet his. He squeezes your hand. 
“You’ll figure it out, I know you will and I’ll be there with you.” 
You maintain eye contact and scoot closer to him as you turn on your side. 
“You’re the best, Eddie.”
His eyes shift as he stares at you, he turns on his side as well, “nah, you are the best,” he smiles, tapping your nose the way he always does. 
“Don’t tell Heather or Chrissy but you might be my new best friend.” 
His eyes light up at your words and his smile widens, “only if you don’t tell Gareth and Jeff that you are my new best friend.” 
Your eyes widen, a giggle falls from your lips, “your secret is safe with me.”
“Yours is safe with me too.” 
“Pinky promise?” You ask as you hold your hand out to him. 
He laughs and brings his hand up, hooking his pinky around yours, “pinky promise.” 
You both fall silent as you look at each other with smiles on your faces. 
“Shit, who would’ve thought that I’d ever have the queen of Hawkins High in my bed.” 
“Shut up,” you laugh. 
For the rest of the night, you and Eddie talk about your lives after high school, dreaming about things that might never happen but it doesn’t matter, all that matters is the laughs you both share. You watch Friday the 13th and continue passing the joint back and forth, only making each other laugh harder by making fun of the movie that isn’t even funny. 
You are grateful for Eddie and for the love and kindness he is giving you. He has become your little beacon of hope. He is the one who makes you laugh now, he is the one who holds you when you need it the most, he is the friend that everything feels so natural with – even falling asleep in his arms when you’re in nothing but panties and his shirt. You wouldn’t have done that with any other guy but he makes you feel safe. 
When you wake up in his arms the next morning, you feel lost and confused for a second. His arms are wrapped around your waist and your head is on his chest, you can hear his heartbeat. For a moment, you thought you were somewhere else, in someone else’s arms but when you open your eyes and you are met with Eddie’s sleeping face, you relax a little. 
You can’t help but smile as you look at him. 
If Steve didn’t dump you, you wouldn’t be here. You would be in his bed right now. But you wouldn’t feel his arms around you, you wouldn’t feel his warmth, you wouldn’t feel him. You would wake up to a harsh reality, one where you continuously lied to yourself in order to keep him and to keep yourself happy. But were you ever happy? 
You miss him, despite what happened, you still miss him. 
But maybe it was for the better. 
Maybe it had to happen this way. 
You wouldn’t have Eddie now. You would have never become friends. And now, you wouldn’t trade this for anything in this world. This friendship has given you more than your relationship with Steve ever did. 
Yet, you still need closure. You want answers and a peaceful conversation. 
So you make the decision to try it. To try and talk and sort things out. You let go of him but there are still so many things that you don’t understand, things that will never give you if you don’t sit down and have that much needed conversation with him. 
When you show up at his house, later that night. You didn’t expect to see his parents' car in the driveway, next to his. You stand in the darkness for a moment, contemplating whether you should actually ring the doorbell or not. The lights are on in the kitchen and in the dining room. 
What if she is here?
What if they are having dinner together? 
Is she sitting in your spot now? 
Does his mom like her the way she always liked you? 
Does his dad hug her the way he hugged you whenever he saw you? 
You close your eyes and you take a deep breath, inhaling the cold air. You try to calm your heartbeat. Was it a good idea to come here? What if he doesn’t want to see you? What if–
You open your eyes and walk up the stairs, you ring the doorbell before your mind can convince you to turn on your heel and run. You can hear the faint sound of music in the house. 
You dig your nails into your palms as you grow more and more nervous. You bounce your knee and stare down at the snow beneath your boots. 
The door opens and you raise your head, for some reason you had expected Steve’s dad to open the door but instead it’s him. You watch as his eyes widen, they lighten up a little but they also flash with confusion. 
“Hi, can we talk?” 
next part
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