#( you seem like the type of guy who’d take me to Starbucks and have me use my name for the drink order because you didn’t know it beforehand

[pastel-rights]

Sweet prince(ss) this, belladonna that, miss journalist here, my beloved there… do you even KNOW my name???

[alldayangst]

love someone for loving you (Peter Parker)

All of my fics are LGBT and PoC friendly. Soulmate and uni AU.

PAIRING: Peter Parker x reader, Brad Davis x reader (for like, a second)

Warnings: Makeout sessions. Characters drink but they’re of age to do so in this fic. Peter says ACAB and if you disagree with that & can’t have a mature convo about it, then this isn’t the blog for you. This fic isn’t all the way accurate to the MCU timeline. Harry [Osborn] and MJ live in Queens. Betty, Flash, Ned, Brad, Peter and reader all attend NYU in Brooklyn.

Thank you for reading if you make it all the way to the end! Word count: 4.2K words.

Happy reading!

“You’re so fucking hot, y’know that?” You were making out with Brad in your dorm room, with the lights off. Brad was a nice enough guy. Had taken you out on a few dates. Told you your hair was pretty. Said he’d like to get to know you more. But you’re not as eager to take things further because something in your heart just knows he’s not your soulmate. And you’d like to wait a little while for the novelty to wear off before you did something you regretted and entered a relationship you’d known was doomed from the start. “So fucking hot.” Brad kissed along your neck, big sloppy wet ones that left saliva trails from his lips to your neck. 

You didn’t like that kind. 

And that was another reason you knew you and Brad weren’t destined, because your soulmate would just know what you like, know you like the back of their hand. Right? Right.

It’s then that Brad tries to take your jumper off, but your soulmate tattoo is on your ribcage, and in this world, letting someone see your soulmate tattoo is probably makes you more vulnerable than getting naked in front of them. You try to pull your jumper down, but Brad doesn’t get the hint and tries again. You place your hands on his chest. “Not today, Brad.”

You don’t see Brad again. And maybe Brad was your soulmate because he led you to Peter. But Peter definitely wasn’t your soulmate, and I’ll tell you why you know that.

“Y/N!” Betty waved as you stumbled back into the party, shoes placed on improperly and no part of you subtle to what you’d been doing with Brad in your room just a few minutes ago. “Not you out of your room so early!” Your room door slammed behind you as Brad left your room, jacket in hand.

“Didn’t get any?” Betty made a fake pout at you, smoke breezing past her face as you stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do as you found yourself in a circle with two of Betty’s friends she’d had yet to introduce you to. Sometimes, you wished Betty was your soulmate, but Betty made it clear before you signed the lease that you weren’t her type and truly, you couldn’t see yourself being anything more than friends. And you were the best of friends. Meaning she’d always be the first to comment heart eyes under your pictures and tell you to get that outfit because your booty was doing the thang in that pair of trousers. 

Things would just be easier, if they were easy.

But things weren’t handed on a silver plate for you like they were for others; where they’d been friends with their soulmates since childhood, or lived up the street from them or their soulmate saved their life or something else blindly obvious. And, desperate to find the gold in the treasure chest, you moved upstate to school at NYU. Because great minds and all that. You stood in perfect silence for a minute, chaos never ceasing to happen around you, before Betty decided to make the strangers next to her strangers no more. One shook your hand and said, “I’m Ned.” Oh. So this is who Betty had been raving about? Betty grimaced and placed her hands together to plead with you not to expose her consuming infatuation with her new boyfriend. In a bid to divert the focus, Betty patted the back of the slightly taller one next to Ned, with wispy brown hair and eyes like fresh, raw cocoa. “I’m Peter, nice to meet you.” He shook your hand.

“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you guys.” You sway your attention back to Ned with a smirk on your face, Betty clutching her solo cup a little too hard, her inner monologue begging you to knock it off. You knew Betty was going to get you back for this, but you needed somewhere else to fixate your gaze since you weren’t sure you could trust yourself not to ogle at Peter. With Brad’s saliva on your neck and having only known him for all of twenty seconds, you weren’t sure if Peter would take to any romantic advances. You weren’t even sure if he’d met his soulmate. “So, I’ve heard a lot about you, Ned.”

“All good I hope.” Ned replies and the room glints with his boyish grin.

“Well-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence, and it was probably for the better. Betty grabbed Ned’s arm, vodka making tiny puddles on the floor, with a huge fake smile plastered on her face. In turn, that only gave you a great, genuine smile, loving to tease your friend. “Baby! We should go to another side of the party!”

“What about Peter?” Ned’s voice was getting lost in the jungle of party goers. “Peter can come.” Peter turned to go follow his friend, but not before mumbling a low, “See you around, Y/N.”, snaking his arms around your back, pulling you in for a quick hug. “See you around, Peter.” 

He didn’t reply. Peter could only give you a thin lipped smile, packaged with a lazy half-nod before he was absorbed by the population around him, just as his friend was. And you cursed yourself that night for not taking your chances and saying more.

History was an 8am class, your only class in the morning. You woke with a a dull ache in your head and a dark mark on your neck that lasted longer than your relationship with the guy that gave it to you. The last thing you wanted was to run into Brad. But destiny offered you the next best thing.

“Oh. Hi, Flash.” You attempted to cover your face with your copy of Romeo & Juliet - if your soulmate was here, the last person you wanted them to see you with was Flash Thompson. Flash was walking backwards as you were walking forwards, unamused by his efforts to corner you. “Can we talk, Y/N?” Flash was Brad’s best friend, so you knew you were in for trouble.

“Can’t Brad speak to me himself? His mouth was working last night.”

“I can see that Y/N. Nice hickey.” You cringed, and Flash could tell he was running out of time to bemuse you. “Brad doesn’t want to bother you if you’re not interested-”

“Oh, so you decide to bother me instead.” You remark, and hop over a couple of steps so Flash had to awkwardly speed up.

“I just wanted to ask where you and him stood. Like, are you breaking up with him? I thought you had a pretty good thing going on.” His pace started to slow again as you slowly ascended up some of the last sets of steps. “I mean, seriously Y/N? What if you guys were soulmates? I wouldn’t wanna give up so easily.”

“That’s true.” You looked down at your sneakers. You hated this version of the world you lived in. Everything was driven by concepts, whether it be the concept of soulmates or the concept of time that left your campus filled with students five years older than they really were, or the concept of good and evil that spawned superheroes who you weren’t sure did more damage to the world than they gave back.

Overall, the concept of fate was once you had to always wrestle with. And you thought that maybe yours was standing at the top of the steps to rescue you from this conversation, ready to make Brad feel the trip of the guilt he and his friend tried to make you feel for not feeling the same way. “Y/N! We have class, c’mon!” Peter waved his goggles at the top of the steps, a knowing smile on his face as Flash looked up at him and glared. 

Peter just had to steal his thunder on a sunny day.

You ran to meet Peter at the top of the steps. “Thank you for bailing me out. You’re a hero.”

Peter was startled. “Who, what, when, where, me?” He scratched the back of his neck and gave you an uncomfortable, stammered loop of laughter. “Hero? Not me. I’m just good ol’ Peter.”

You chuckled as you breathed out another ‘thank you’ and returned the hug Peter had left un-exchanged last night. “I’m guessing you have bio?”

“Guilty as charged. So what’s your major?”

“English Lit.”

“Oo, how long are you planning to work at Starbucks?” Peter remarked as he held to the main door open for you. “Peter?” He hummed in response. “Fuck you.”

You sat next to Betty in History, the professor droning on about something that made you question why you continued to take History, but as your best friend snatched your book from you, you were reminded. “Star crossed lovers, eh?” Betty skimmed through the fights and the love scenes that all culminated to the uncertainty whether Romeo and Juliet were even supposed to be together. 

“Seems like you and Ned these days, huh.” You couldn’t believe that it had taken Betty three months to allow you to meet Ned, nevermind his cute friend. Ever since the ‘boyfriend’ label had been slapped on their little love affair a month and a half ago, you were beginning to see less and less of your best friend. It felt like two people paying for a single household, and with your lease ending in a short time, you worried Betty would almost evaporate from your life completely.

“Almost.” Betty tried to keep it hush, sheepishly grinning, but gave in completely in record time. “We said we’re gonna show each other our tattoos tonight!” She squealed, another student shushing her from the row above.

“Woah, that’s big!” It genuinely felt as if the wind had been knocked out of you. You realised you’d never gotten as far as Ned and Betty without either you or you partner showing your soulmate tattoo; and when they were never the same, you broke it off. “What if they’re not the same?”

“They will be.” Betty smiled. “I’m sure of it.”

Two loners getting together was never a recipe for success. Betty had given over your number to Ned, who handed it over to Peter, who’d texted you asking for you to come over: ‘wanna make it up to me for this morning at the steps? my bestie is with your bestie, so u wanna get pizza? do you like pineapple?’ 

Sure enough, you were over at Ned & Peter’s within ten minutes, Peter swinging the door open dressed in a tight red and blue top, a hoodie sparsely covering it, with an overexcited greeting of “Mi casa es su casa!”

The energy wasn’t returned. Not just yet. You had to be sure of something first. “Don’t tell me that there’s an American flag top under that hoodie.” Peter looks down at his Spidey suit which he’d completely forgotten he had on between scaling the ceiling in anxious anticipation of your text back. “Having such a boner for the USA is kind of a turn off.”

Peter started cussing under his breath and quickly turned to zip his hoodie all the way up. When he turns back to you, it’s word vomit. “I’m not saying I don’t love this country, I mean, I love Queens. I mean-”

You raise your eyebrows, curious to see where Peter would go with this. “The NYPD fucking hates me,”

“And what would they want with your little ass?” You walk into the apartment. He’d never admit it, but Peter kind of likes the way you bust his balls. It puts him on the spot, makes him want to tell the truth to you about who he really is.

“I mean, I can’t really say-”

“OK. I don’t wanna be an accessory to anything so,” You laugh. “I won’t push. ACAB.” There’s a thud that follows you closing the door. 

“I agree. ACAB.”

A few hours pass with Peter and he’s beginning to unravel. He shows you the photos he’s taken over the years, several of them featuring a fair haired boy you’d never seen around campus before. “Is he your soulmate?”

Peter nearly chokes on the coffee he’d prepared for himself. “No. Harry? In his dreams.” He sets his mug down. “No, uh, that’s my friend. He lives back home in Queens.”

“You say back home like Queens isn’t a 10 minute drive from where we are.”

“Yeah. But it’s not right here.” You weren’t sure if you’d bruised Peter’s feelings, so you move onto another photo. There’s a polaroid that makes a thin pile with another on the table.

It’s the New York City skyline, from all the way up.

“How’d you get a photo from all the way up here?” Peter grabs the photo underneath it, but not before you catch a glimpse. The glossy paper is adorned with an image of a beautiful girl, black necklace around her neck, the scribbles underneath her photo reading ‘MJ, Pre-blip’.

You think this girl is too gorgeous to just be a friend.

But judging by the way Peter reacted when you suggested Harry was the same, you kept quiet. He didn’t want you to see it anyway. 

“I’m really sticky and I climb up walls.” Peter being Peter is relieved he told you the truth, even if you didn’t know it.

“You’re weird, kid.” You thought you were being smooth, but you couldn’t help the way you look at his lips like they hold the answer to every question you’d had in your life.

“Uh-huh. But you like a bit of weird. Maybe Brad was too square for you.”

“Huh?”

“Huh.”

And then when you and Peter kiss, you suddenly understand what poets mean when they call your lips jigsaw puzzles, because yours and Peter’s slot perfectly together. And you get why there’s all these love songs on the radio, and you feel the Earth shift in your mind and you just know this is the unmistakeable indicator that Peter is your soulmate. Another reason you and Peter are destined, when he goes to kiss your neck, it’s like soft little hot touches. 

You liked that kind. 

And a soulmate would just know that, know you like the back of their hand. Right? Right.

Peter rests his forehead on your own, lips swollen. “I don’t want to go anywhere, don’t wanna do anything you don’t wanna do.”

You and Peter cuddle for the rest of the night on his sofa, Ned and Betty doing the same on yours. And the novelty picks back up like clockwork.

“Peter? What if we aren’t soulmates?” you groaned, Peter’s hand on your head, keeping you snug to his chest. You and Peter had been dating close to two months now, Ned and Betty moving to five. In any other relationship, you would’ve called this phase The Ticking Time Bomb. You toyed with the black dahlia that sat perfectly between his pecs. Peter had been to Queens last week. He’d retrieved his necklace from the girl in the photo, MJ. She was an old friend, he said. Him and her? Not meant to be. Maybe in another life, he’d say. Another timeline. Then he’d gesture between the two of you. This. This is meant to be. Us.

Peter shrugged. “What if we weren’t?” Peter had an almost permanent bandage on his ribcage, exactly where your soulmate tattoo was. Where and how Peter got injured was a mystery to you, and he’d never dare tell you no matter how much you pushed. It almost made you wonder if he was keeping any more secrets from you.

You propped yourself up, both hands on his chest. 

“I couldn’t move back in with Betty. She and Ned are soulmates, they need their privacy.”

“Who said you’d ever to move back in with Betty?”

“I couldn’t afford to live by myself, Peter. Not everyone had a Stark internship in high school.”

“Who said you’d have to move out at all?”

“If we’re not soulmates-” Peter moved your hands from his chest and wrapped them around your waist, pulling you in for a loving kiss. “What have I told you? You and me, we’re meant to be. Us.”

But you didn’t have the tattoos to prove it. 

You and Betty were sitting in History class, ignoring the professor’s droning as per usual. Betty had this beaming smile on her face and you were sure if she didn’t say what was on her mind soon, she was going to explode all over someone’s Henry VIII’s notes.

“Betty?”

“Yeah?” She shrieked with scarlet cheeks.

“Spill.”

Betty let out a breath. “Well, since you insisted.” You couldn’t help but smile at your best friend. “I think Ned might propose tonight!”

“I feel like you should be taking me out to dinner before you dump all this load on me.”

Betty’s eyes glazed over, obviously too excited to contain her emotions. “What about you and Peter? The tattoos must match up since you’ve stayed around this long.”

“Actually, I-”

Betty makes an O face at you, which told you she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “C’mon. You haven’t played I’ll Show You Mine if you Show Me Yours?” Betty was in awe. “Y/N! You must really like him.” 

You did really like Peter. That was the issue. You weren’t ready to feel jaded if your tattoos didn’t match up like they all inevitably did in the past. You felt something different for Peter. Betty was right. That was why you stuck around this long. “Hey Betty, is my old room still my room if things between me and Peter don’t work out?”

“Of course, Y/N! I’m here for you til’ the end of the line.” Betty pulled you into a great, big hug.

“OK. Session dismissed.” Your professor echoed. “Everyone can go. Y/N and Betty, stay after please.”

You’d gotten kicked off of History, which was bittersweet. Seeing as History was Betty’s major, your professor had to keep her there - but he was sure ‘she’d flourish once you two were separated.’  

You and Betty walked out of the main entrance, Ned and Peter both waiting for you under the shelter at the top of the steps. Seasons had changed. It was far from the summer day Peter had to spotted you on the way to class. “We’re gonna run in, drink some cocoa. We’ll catch you guys later.” Ned shivered as Betty re-engulfed him in his jacket she’d been holding for the scent. 

Love was weird, but you wanted so bad to be a part of it.

You turned to Peter beside you. “And what are we gonna do?”

“Swinging.”

“Peter, I don’t swing. I’m perfectly happy in our relationship.”

Peter held onto your waist, your head nuzzled into his neck, not daring to look down at the city below you. This was the first time you’d ever experienced something like this, no doubt, but Peter was getting a strange sense of deja vu.

“Y/N!” You didn’t move from your place in his neck, but he knew you could hear him. “I love you. I trust you.”

“You’re-” You didn’t trust yourself to speak. “Fucking.” You opened one eye just to be sure you weren’t dreaming. “Spiderman!”

“I’m something more important: your boyfriend.”

Leave it to Peter Parker to get all sappy with you in the middle of the sky. 

You opened both your eyes now. “What about my soulmate?”

“What?” Startled, Peter lost controls of his webs for a moment, and knocked his rib on the side of a building. Luckily for you, you were lower to the ground.

‘Injury detected,’ Peter’s AI, Karen, stated.

“Yeah, I know, Karen.” Peter stated.

“Is it right there, babe?” Peter nodded, sat on the concrete, and pressed the spider in the middle of his suit. You watched as it became loose.

Your eyes flickered to the bandage on his ribcage. Maybe you had your answers as to how Peter always seemed to be hurt, but you needed your ultimate answer. And it was behind the bandage. “Right here, are you sure babe?”

You were on edge. You weren’t sure what you’d do if fate didn’t allow this to be true. For the sake of your heart.

So you peeled back the bandage.

And you found nothing there but a series of bruises. Your heart was crushed. “Nothing, Peter. There’s nothing there.” You had tears in your eyes, and before long you were ugly crying. This wasn’t a case of the novelty wearing off. This was a case of the novelty being broken down ‘til it can’t function no more.

“That’s a good thing baby, maybe I just need to go to a hospital.”

“No, I mean it Peter! There’s nothing there!” You pull up your heart to reveal a half full shirt printed on your body twenty one years ago, this exact heart only belonging to one other person in the world. But it wasn’t Peter. Even though he had just told you he loved you. “Fuck!” Your voice became incomprehensible, drowned out in tears and squeaks of sorrow. “I’m so sorry, but we can’t see each other any more. T-there is someone out there for me. You need to understand.”

And, unsure if your legs would take you all the way, you made your journey to Betty.

When you made it to Betty’s, she stood in the doorway with a rock on her finger. You couldn’t see that, though, through your tear blurred vision.

“Oh, poor baby.” She immediately embraced you, with Ned circling to your side to group hug you. You sniff into her shoulder. “He’s not-we’re not-”

“My darling.” She pauses. “I’m hoping you got the first month’s rent.” She laughed and you laughed before she pulled you back in her embrace and allowed you to feel what you needed to feel.

It’s often underestimated how miserable you need to be in order to cry yourself to sleep. You didn’t even know you did until you woke in your old room, your old band poster replaced by a calendar titled ‘Ned and Betty Forever’ and you laughed because Ned and Betty hadn’t even known each other longer than than six calendar months.

And you missed your windowsill on which you’d perch and overlook the breathtaking view of Brooklyn, and the even more awe-inspiring view of NYU students hurling after one too many, especially after yours and Betty’s parties.

“Do you guys even clean this room?” You called out. “You got a serious case of cobwebs.”

Peter lowered himself to meet your view. You were about to draw the blinds on him, only to realise Betty and Ned had gotten them removed whilst you were living with Peter.

“Hear me out.”

“I have no choice.” You chew on the flesh of your cheek. “You took a while to find me.”

“You left me for dead.”

It was hard to beat that one.

“Peter, if you have something to say, say it.”

“I’m sorry.” he’s swinging upside down, side to side and it slightly amuses you to think he’s getting dizzy if the last three months were at your expense. “I know how much this soulmate bullshit means to you, and I kept you longer than you would’ve liked. I’m also sorry ‘cause I knew I wasn’t your soulmate from the start.”

You gasp.

“But I wouldn’t in a billion years say that either you or I belong to someone else. MJ is my soulmate, yes. I love her with all my heart, but I believe destiny can change in the same world where people disappear for five years. MJ moved on. I’ve moved on. Who cares about a stupid tattoo? People go to parlours and give themselves their own all the time. People get them removed all the time. I’m getting my black dahlia erased.” Your face softens a little bit at that, you guard slightly down, but you refuse to wave a white flag without first making your point.

You rubbed your rib cage. “I care.”

“Y/N, you’re smarter than to deny what you feel. You’re an English major, studying Romeo and Juliet. You understand the world better than I do, and I’ve been to 600 different versions of it. You have a heart half full on your ribcage and I have half a flower on my foot. Tell me, would a rose by any other name smell as sweet?” 

You know the answer’s the same one Betty gave Ned tonight when he got down on one knee, the same response you’d give Peter if he was to ask you the same question, what you’d tell anyone if they queried if you’d go through what you went with Peter all over again.

You pull down his mask, and look deep into both of Peter’s eyes, and still him from swinging. “Love someone for loving you for a change.”

And you don’t have to say it, Ned and Betty hiss it out for you not so subtly from the windowsill in the livingroom. “Yes!”

So when you and Peter kiss, it’s not about novelties or concepts, fate or tomorrow, it’s just the beautiful bliss that is love, in this moment.

The unmistakable indicator that you and Peter are meant to be.

Fin.

Credit for the gif goes to: @/tomhollandnet

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[k-llama-llama]

Ultimate Gift

SuperM/WayV AU: 8th member

YinYin x SuperM/WayV/NCT

SuperM has a surprise to cheer Yinnie up.

A/N:ALSO FYI check out my patreon (patreon.com/kllamallama for exclusive posts!)

Requests are Open…and your feedback is still super important to me.

Masterlist and other Follow Me links in bio!

“I need coffee.” YinYin declared, walking over to stand next to Taeyong.

“What?” He looked shocked. “You don’t drink coffee.”

“I don’t care. I’m exhausted.”

She leaned against the well, looking around the room. It wasn’t quite a party, given the current restrictions, but all of SuperM had gathered with their staff and some of the SM executives to celebrate the new album. YinYin wasn’t a party girl at the best of times, but between SuperM promotions, prepping for NCT 2020 and her physiotherapy, she could barely keep her eyes open. She’d actually fallen asleep in the stylist’s chair an hour ago while they tried to curl her hair and make her presentable for the party.

Taeyong patted her on the shoulder. “I wish I could tell you that you can sleep in tomorrow…but…”

“I know.” She sighed. “Rehearsal. It’s okay. I’ll just give in and start drinking coffee.”

“Are we complaining over here?” Kai walked over, looking remarkably chipper. It seemed odd, especially considering the fact that YinYin knew he was just as exhausted as the rest of them.

“Yinnie was just telling me that she’s going to go raid a Starbucks.” Taeyong said.

“Aw, Yin. Are you not having fun?” Kai grinned.

She tilted her head. “Not as much as you. Have you been drinking?”

“What? No.” He shook his head. “Come on, we have something to show you.”

“Show me?” She let him take her arm and lead him away, missing the look he exchanged with Taeyong over her shoulder. “This isn’t something that Lucas has built out of cutlery again, is it?”

“No, I promise.” He pulled her through the party.

Lucas appeared at her side. “Hey, Yin. How’s it going?”

“Good.” She looked between them, and then at Taeyong, who was following them. “What are you guys up to?”

“Nothing.” Lucas said too quickly. “Lets just…go see the others.”

Unconvinced, she tried to catch a glimpse of where they were leading her. By the doors on the other side of the party, Baekyun and Taemin were talking to some people. They were blocking her view, but she assumed it was probably Lee Soo-Man and someone else. The boys were probably looking forward to making her talk to business people.

“I don’t want to talk to anyone, guys.” She protested. “Just let me go eat a donut or something.”

“That’s crazy talk.” Kai laughed. “Come on.”

“Guys…” She whined.

Baekyun turned his head when he saw her. “Hey, Yin.”

“Hi.” She gave him a little wave.

“There’s someone here who’d like to talk to you.” Taemin said, stepping aside.

“I know. But I really have to….” She trailed off, realizing who they had been talking to.

“Yinnie?” Taeyong prompted.

“MOM!” She exclaimed, launching herself forward and into her mom’s arms. She ignored how it caused her back to strain, and just pressed her face into her mom’s shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

Her mom was crying too much to talk, just petting her head, so her father answered. “Your friends flew us out.”

“Daddy!” She reached for him, pulling him into the hug.

The others took in the scene before them. YinYin wasn’t much of a crier, but there were happy tears streaming down her face. It was easy to see her resemblance to her parents. She had her father’s eyes, and the man himself was significantly taller than his wife or daughter, with a face covered in the type of wrinkles one gets from years of working outside.

Her mother was, by some miracle, shorter than YinYin. Their faces were nearly identical, with only a few wrinkles showing her mother’s age.

“What did you guys do?” YinYin sniffled, pulling back enough to look at the boys, and switching into Korean.

Mark looked proud of himself. “You hadn’t seen your parents in years.”

“And you’ve been really down lately.” Ten said with a smile.

“Don’t you guys take credit for this.” Baekyun protested. “We arranged everything. And Taemin’s the one who paid.”

YinYin wiped her eyes. “I’ll pay you back.”

“No, you won’t.” Taemin shook his head.

“Can I hug your mom now?” Lucas begged, speaking in Chinese.

YinYin’s mom let go of her, reaching for him. “You’re much taller in person.”

“It’s so nice to meet you.” He hugged her. “You’re so much prettier than YinYin.”

Her mom playfully swatted his shoulder. “My daughter is gorgeous. And she’s gotten so tall.”

“What?” Ten’s eyes widened. “This is tall YinYin?”

“She used to be this small.” Her dad held a hand up to his waist. “She’s grown a lot since she left.”

“Liu Guanyin, you should make introductions.” Her mom said. “We just got here.”

“Right.” YinYin wiped her eyes. “Mom, Dad, this is Baekyun, Taemin, Kai, Taeyong, Mark, and you’ve talked to Lucas and Ten before on the phone.”

“It’s really nice to meet you both.” Kai held out a hand, which her dad shook.

“We’ve heard so much about you.” Taeyong gave a polite bow.

“Taeyong!” Her mom pulled him into a hug. “You’ve taken such good care of our girl!”

“Yinnie?” Taeyong looked at her in concern, obviously confused by the crying woman in his arms.

“She says thank you.” YinYin translated.

“Tell her thank you!” Mark exclaimed. “She made my favorite scarf without ever even meeting us.”

“Mark!” He was pulled into a hug too.

YinYin leaned into her dad’s side, laughing and crying at the same time. “I can’t believe you guys are here.” She said quietly.

“We’ve missed you so much.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“I’ve missed you guys too.” She wiped her nose on her sleeve. “I feel like I haven’t talked to you in forever. I’ve been so busy.”

“It’s okay, we’re here now.”

“Yinnie’s mom, did you know she has a boyfriend?” Lucas said proudly, obviously aiming to get her in trouble.

“She already told me.” Her mom said. “Taeyong! Guanyin says you took such good care of her when she got hurt.”

Taeyong just patted her back as he was pulled into another hug. “Is this another thank you?”

“Basically.” Lucas frowned. “Yinnie, your mom doesn’t love me as much as she’s supposed to.”

YinYin rolled her eyes. “Try not being yourself, that might help.”

“Guanyin, don’t be rude.” Her dad poked her side.

She wrinkled her nose at him, before stepping away.

“You know I have to hug you right?” She said to Taemin.

He opened his arms. “Come on.”

“Thank you so so much.” She whispered. “I can’t explain how much this means to me.”

“Don’t worry about it. You deserve this.” He hugged her tightly.

“Now, as fun as this is.” Kai said. “We’ll cover for you so you guys can go out for dinner or something.”

“You will?” YinYin beamed. “Mom! I’ll take you out for Korean food!”

“Baekyun will handle it.” Kai grinned at the leader. “So go.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” YinYin hugged both of them, more excitable than they’d ever seen her, and then grabbed one of each of her parents’ hands and started pulling them out the door without looking back.

“When do we get to meet your boyfriend?” Her mom asked.

“Mom!” She exclaimed. “I literally didn’t know you were coming.”

“But we want to meet him.” Her dad said. “And we want to eat barbeque.”

“I’ll take us to a really good restaurant.” She promised. “My treat.”

[witchcraft-in-wonderland]

Snakes and Scandals (Pt.1)

-------------------------

Virgil Blanche hated a lot of things, that was a given. He was, after all, an extremely poor twenty-two year old man living in the slums of a high-end empire city. Every day he would sit through nearly ten hours of abuse from costumers who were raised to think they were better than everyone else, and even the ones who weren't born rich were corrupted very quickly.

"Excuse me? Is this still eligible for a return? I tried at another store and they rejected me but I only bought it a few days ago," Virgil merely sighed at the hat and scarf clad man in front of him.

"If you bought it less than two months ago its eligible for return, if someone told you it wasn't you can file a complaint," Virgil never spoke very clearly, but he appreciated the man at least pretending to understand what he was saying.

"Thank you," it was at this point Virgil seemed to register that the man was speaking with a slight russian accent.

"Have a nice day," Virgil said in a monotone voice.

The day continued as all days working in customer service usually did, of course, had Virgil checked his calendar, maybe he would've realized that it was National Frame a Retailer For Flirting With You day. He didn't have much time to react, whoever the girl who'd used him as a cheating scapegoat was, she was very quiet, and her boyfriend was very fast.

"You tryna make her look dumb? Huh? Is that what you want?" Virgil tried to protest but ended up with a faceful of knuckles instead.

He should've known it wouldn't end well for him, at least he wasnt dead, but now he had a bloody face and was sitting in the managers office, waiting to hear his fate.

"So you punched him?" Virgil's boss was very stereotypical, blonde, bob-cut, light brown eyes, and Virgil knew she hated him. She always acted excited about his new piercings or tattoos, and of course she congratulated him when she found out he'd finally managed to afford top surgery after saving up since age fourteen. But he could tell it was all fake. He wasn't social enough for customer service, after all.

"In self defense, only after he broke my nose," Virgil responded. His manager pursed her lips together, glaring slightly from behind her glasses.

"And you are aware they intended to sue, yes?" Virgil gritted his teeth,of course they were, after all, why attack a store employee if you didn't want to sue them, or, at least, if you didn't want free starbucks every time you showed up.

"No, I wasn't, because they attacked me first," Virgil said calmly.

"I'm sorry Virgil but I'm going to have to fire you," there was no hiding the look of pure glee on the managers face as she delivered the news.

Virgil merely set his name tag on the table and left, all the while clutching his face. It burned, badly, some people needed to go to the gym less.

"You alright dude?" Virgil moved his hand to look at the man in front of him. Tall, skinny, with a mustache on his face and a white streak in his hair. The man had a worried look on his face, though his eyes conveyed a vague crazed look.

"Yeah, sure," Virgil said. He was about to walk away when the taller man grabbed his arm.

"Come with me, I'll help clean you up," Virgil was honestly to tired to argue, so instead he merely followed.

"Roman! I think I found you a new model! A little bruised up but I think he'll be ok soon enough!" Virgil had stopped listening after 'model'.

"Wait wait wait wait wait- I am definitely not a model-" Virgil tried to shrink in on himself.

"Well of course you arent yet! Oh Remus you life saver look at him! He's brilliant!" A boy who looked similar to the one with the mustache rushed out from behind a pillar, planting a kiss on the receptionists cheek as he ran.

Remus smiled, "I'll go get some ice packs and bandages, you two can talk," he said, running off.

"Roman Prince-Duke, head of Rome Fashion Company," Roman said, holding a hand out.

"Virgil Blanche, head of confused and worried emotions company," Virgil said, Roman let out a laugh.

"So what happened? If you're comfortable sharing that is," Roman said, gesturing to Virgil's face.

"Girl got her boyfriend to attack me at work for the sake of coupons," Virgil said, shrugging.

"Oh dear. . ." Roman said, his face falling slightly.

A few minutes later Virgil was sitting on a bench with ice pressed against his face and Roman listening intently as the receptionist told him what he should do.

"Gods Lolo you're so cute when you're being smart," Roman said, smiling and leaning his elbow on his knee, head pressed against his hand. The receptionist's face flushed with color.

Virgil honestly wasn't sure how calling him a model wasn't a joke, yet here he was sitting in the lobby waiting for Roman.

"Alright Virgil! Let's get you ready for your first shoot shall we?" Roman brought Virgil up by the hand, spinning him slightly before guiding him to another room.

"Lucky for you we have plenty of outfits in your size," Roman said.

"Mention my height and the fabric scissors might find their way up your nose," Virgil growled. Being 4'8 never exactly helped his case, he didn't normally get aggressive easily but it was a bit touchy for him.

"Oh dont worry, I learned my lesson with Lo on our first date," Roman said.

An hour or so later Virgil was dressed in a purple sleeveless top with black lace along the neckline, a black corset, ruffled black skirts, and black boots with heels. It felt, nice, and Virgil wasnt sure why. Normally he hated the way he looked in everything, but for once in his life he felt like royalty.

"Remy! I've got a new model for you!" Roman said as they entered another room with all manner of different sets and cameras set up.

A man with a leather jacket and sunglasses popped out from behind one, jaw dropping slightly "Roman you SAINT! Where'd you find him?!" Remy said, circling Virgil and looking him up and down.

"That credit goes to Remus, speaking of which, I've got business to attend to, you boys have fun," Roman said, turning on his heel to leave, the nearly floor length skirt of his outfit sweeping behind him.

"Alright babes you look like you're about to pass out right now so let's take a little break m'kay?" Remy walked with Virgil to a room that seemed primarily composed of bean bags.

They sat there for a while, Remy asking him questions and telling him his own stories. Before suddenly he got up and held a hand out for him. Virgil took it and allowed himself to be lead to a set covered in giant mushrooms and flowers. Remy spent a few minutes posting him, bringing out a few props for him to prop his arms on.

"Now just relax and give me a smile, you look like you're good at subtle, let's try some of those first," said Remy from behind the camera.

Virgil started out the shoot wishing it would be over already, but by the end he couldnt seem to stop looking at his own reflection in the camera lens.

"Oh Jan's going to lose it when he sees these!" Roman said, looking through the pictures from his phone.

"Who's Jan?-" Virgil said, tilting his head slightly.

"Oh you probably know him as Dimitri, he's a rival of mine," Roman handed Virgil a magazine, one scan of the front cover and Virgil recognized the man from a week ago, he was wearing the same hat and scarf as before. He read the caption above it. "Dimitri Gabriel to release new line inspired by endangered reptile species, all proceeds to go to preservation funding, no real scales used," he handed the article back to Roman.

"I've seen that guy, he was returning something the day I got fired," Virgil said.

"Oh even better! He'll recognize you!" Said Roman.

"Wait where are these even going?" Virgil said.

"My stylegram, you dont seem like the type who likes runways, so Remus and I have decided you'll be a social media model," Roman said.

"Well- guess I better make my own account then," Virgil said, pulling out his own phone.

It was only a few minutes before the comments flooded in, he recognized Janus' face, though his handle still conveyed his name as Dimitri. His face flushed red at the compliments. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but the feeling that Janus was impressed by his looks gave him an intense sensation of joy.

----------------------------------------------

Tag List:

@nerosdayinhell

@official-lucifers-child

@meowthefluffy

@spooky-scary-virgil

@misunderstoodshadowling

@youtuberswithalex

[peaches-writes]

would i trust skz with my grades 

chan - i’d trust him with an rrl & doing a data gathering session on his own and that’s the highest compliment i could give someone tbvh the level of reliability and resourcefulness is so *chef’s kiss* this boy would NEVER fail you will carry his weight in the group and goes the extra mile even when he’s not the group leader because honestly iSN’T THAT WHAT GROUPMATES ARE SUPPOSED TO DO also he prolly also likes the library for summ reason like i like the library too i like actually looking at books for work and not just sitting there to stare at my laptop and hoard the air conditioning & electric sockets but he does it w/o hesitation like he gets in there and actually looks for books for the paper and that’s admirable shit right there canonically i have a crush on college campus heartthrob chan in all of his soft boy senior who’s kind to everyone forms and i think we should just discuss this

minho - we’d prolly fight once during brainstorming bc he suggested the one (1) wild ass topic proposal & thesis statement that the thesis adviser surprisingly liked (?) like GETS in a topic proposal there’s usually the underdeveloped topic the group just threw in there bc y’all could dream LOL, the topic everyone ACTUALLY likes and wants to do, and the filler topic that’s so wild but for summ reason gets the adviser’s attention like he suggests the THIRD one and it’s gonna spark a mini fist fight but it’s cool lee minho lee know is smart he knows what he’s doing 

changbin - he seems like ur 2 am google docs buddy where you know the one where all of your classmates have gone to take short naps & promised to come back at 4 am to finish their parts or just straight up SKIPPED on writing the paper the night before the deadline & the two of you like gave up halfway to communicate & consistently update each other via chat just so now you’re just competing over who’s gonna leave the website first ALSO IDK he reminds me of that one guy on twt who like hovered their gdocs cursor over their crush’s and said something like we were holding hands on gdocs im sorry my humor’s encountering an error atm

hyunjin - starbucks study buddy who’d fight u for the seat near the electric socket and will prolly be too chatty all throughout the thing like you just want to SUMMARIZE THIS LONG ASS ARTICLE IN PEACE but hyunjin’s sitting across from you while he’s typing obnoxiously loud and fast on his laptop while also scrolling thru his insta dump on his phone and showing you the latest tea on ur grpmates who refuse to do their parts sdhfksld but he’ll treat u to wings for lunch after bc u deserve it later dont get mad at him !!!! 

jisung - i’d pick him in class bc i can’t do public speaking to save my life, im too shy to approach people for surveys & interviews, i hate computer shops (!!!) and bc every stressed out research group needs a bubbly moodmaker to balance out the lack of optimism in getting a passing grade might also hav a crush on him if he dresses up extra on thesis defense day im just sayin like jisung in a kinda wrinkled button up he forgot to iron before coming to school in the color ur grpmates agreed to color-coordinate for ur presentation plus black blazer + slacks combo and then MESSY FLOOFY HAIR bc it’s just u & the scariest profs in ur department he doesn’t need to slick his hair up but it’s sooo adorable wtf u want me to treat u to iced coffee after this sTAY RIGHT THERE IM GOING TO TIM HORTON’S 

felix - i’ll end up doing most of the work for him not bc he’s lazy or deadweight (aka the usual reasons why i’m always overworked in a researched group) but bc i’m whipped for him like omg baby just go and cook the pancit canton for the group and rest i’ll do ur work for yOU ARE YOU HAVING DIFFICULTY UNDERSTANDING THE SOURCE MATERIAL DO I HAVE TO PUNCH THE SOURCE MATERIAL FOR YOU I GOT YOU OKAY 

seungmin - 100% no questions asked i’d trust him with my life in a life-threatening situation ofc i’d trust him with my grades he’ll prolly turn up to ur grp meetings w his resources ready and a sorta clear ide aon what to do alr like that’s HOT but more importantly i’d also trust him w ranting abt deadweight groupmates he’d prolly be that one (1) trustworthy groupmate of urs who’s also like super sassy n goes omg just remove their names from the title page if they dont want to do their work !!! then actually tells ur deadweight grpmates off after bc injustice ???? i wont stand for it !!!! 

jeongin - idk why jeongin exudes that classmate who has a decent printer that the entire class takes advantage of for a whole semester it’s prolly why he’s late to class all the time or coming to school haggard with all the stacks of paper he has to carry (until he decided one day to just fuck it and bring the printer to school) like bruh just make it a business also that one classmate of urs who’s like literally running all the time bc ur class is in one building, the campus library’s on the OTHER SIDE, and the conference room for the thesis defense is on a whole ‘nother planet and he gets the unfortunate task of transferring the final research paper copies and escorting groups to the thesis panel pls save him my poor bby lemme buy u iced coffee

[parkeraul]

Touring with Shawn in the US and you bring your dog along

a little bit nervous — s.m.

author’s note — i’m emptying my askbox as fast as possible so i can open requests again. i hope you’re liking all of this. 

warnings — fluff. 

words — 1,794.

“Oh, finally!” Shawn sighs, opening the door to the AirBnb apartment. As soon as there’s more space, Y/N drops the strap on the floor and the dog immediately starts sniffing the room while walking across the ground. 

He lets her in first, carrying his guitar case and bag while she makes her way to the bedroom where she can leave her stuff. As the dog maps the apartment, Shawn manages to grab the keys and closes the door with his foot soon after. His nose starts to itch a little bit and he can feel his eyes burning slightly, not to mention his heartbeat fastening and throat drying. 

Shawn decides to place his things beside the door, planning to take them to the right place some other time. The veins on his arms are already throbbing and his muscles are tired under the blue shirt he’s wearing. They had no time for breakfast or lunch, so the feeling of being exhausted seems to get heavier and heavier on him.

“Okay,” Y/N says, making her way back to the living room. “I’ll go grab something on Starbucks, ‘cause I’m starving! Do you want something?” 

“You’re going now?” Shawn watches her tucking her wallet inside the pocket of her shorts, moving discreetly to the door. 

She frowns, rolling her eyes across the room, “Yes?! Why?” 

He doesn’t need to answer with words, because she sees the way he looks at the dog kind of worriedly. 

“Nothing,” He chuckles nervously. “I’ll just catch my phone then I’m going with ya—” 

“Oh,” Y/N breathes, trying to walk forward and Shawn blocks her way. “I was thinking you could stay and make some company to Luna.” 

Shawn puts his hands together, holding tight as he bites his lip. Dramatically, he rubs his nose and eyes way more than he actually would need to. 

“I mean, we’re not gonna take too long, right? She could… Come with us, maybe?” Shawn asks. 

“Honey,” Y/N smiles softly, walking to him and placing her palm on his chest. “She walked way too much early in the morning and loud crowds stresses her so much,” Shawn closes his eyes to her words, thinking that he’s got nowhere left to run. “The streets are full and you’re tired too! You don’t have to be close to her if you don’t feel like doing it, just don’t leave her alone because she’s still very needy.” 

Luna’s been adopted by Y/N recently and being a recently rescued dog makes her feel abandoned whenever she’s alone, even if it’s for just a matter of minutes. But Y/N knows Shawn is more afraid of Luna than allergically reacting to the dog, considering that Luna is a huge pitbull who’s only 2 years–old, what makes her even more energetic. As a kid, she’s not aware of her enormous size and big heavy paws — she just wants to play, test her bite strength and how fast she can reach the toys. Shawn, on the other side, feels utterly intimidated by her force. And size. And love—bites. And sloppy, wet kisses.

“I’ll go, you can stay,” Shawn offers. 

“Oh yeah? Have you memorized my order?” Y/N challenges, arching an eyebrow. 

“Blueberry muffin and iced–caramel.” He answers. 

“Red velvet and choco–chip frappuccino,” Shaking her head, she steps ahead once again. “You’ll be okay, don’t worry! If she gets too annoying, just throw the pink ball. It’s in my bag with your anti–allergic.”

Before Shawn can complain, Y/N’s winking at him and slipping to the space between his body and the door. In seconds, she’s flicking the doorknob close and her footsteps leading to the elevator are the only thing Shawn can hear.

All across the room, there’s Luna with her ears up and tongue out. Her tail wags from side to side, making her butt sway along with it. Shawn swallows harshly, cheeks reddening and chest thumping with a tiny bit of fear mixing with admiration. She looks cute, but what if she attacks him or bite his leg? It’s his very first time meeting Luna, he doesn’t really know what to do or how to act if something happens. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Shawn whines, making Luna tilt her head to the side as her eyes watch him talk as if she could only understand. Luna growls lowly, sitting down and huffing. “If you were Luna Lovegood I’d be less afraid, I think.”

Shawn trails his way to the couch slowly, Luna’s standing on the very center watching him step carefully onto the fluffy map. He sits on the very edge, as far as possible from the dog as he grabs the remote to turn on the TV. His hairline is sweaty and limbs shaking a little. When he puts the remote to the side, right next to his leg, Luna understands it as a ‘come here’ type of tap and runs to jump onto the couch.

The curly boy just holds his breath and presses his lips together, avoiding a scream and freezing in place. Luna senses the fear exhaling from his body, coming closer very smoothly to smell on him.

She starts sniffing along his hand and wrist still spread and holding the remote, coming up to his elbow and biceps. Her breathing tickles his skin, so he can’t help but laugh and she gets excited, thinking that he wants to play. Quickly, she prompts her body up and places her paws on his shoulder for support. Shawn squeezes his eyes shut and prays to God she’ll be nice.

Luna sniffs his hair, ear and cheek before she licks flesh only once very rapidly, just poking his cheek with the tip of her tongue to see if he likes it. When Shawn shrugs, making her frame slide towards him consequently, she goes wild. She runs to the other side of the couch, then back to where Shawn is and then back to the edge of the couch and it goes on and on. Shawn reads it at happiness, which sure is washing over her body with electric waves of energy. Her running makes his silhouette shake on the couch, because it’s flopping up and down with the weight of her fast strides and he laughs at the sight. 

“Okay, okay,” Shawn says between his giggles and Luna stops in the middle of the couch, prepared to play. “You want your ball, eh?” The dog opens her mouth, letting her tongue out to refresh as her tail wags faster. 

“‘M too lazy to grab it, not gonna lie,” He mutters. “But…” Looking around the apartment, he tries to find something closer to distract her. “What about this?” 

Shawn grabs a small cushion and throws it to the end of the couch and Luna instantly reaches for it. She takes a mouthful of it and rushes to put it next to Shawn’s thigh again. Thinking that she needs to follow the previous steps to keep on getting his attention, Luna goes to the middle of the couch again and this time she prepares herself more — upper half goes down and her wiggly butt goes up. Gradually, Shawn’s heartbeats slow down and he laughs loudly, squeezing his eyes and putting his hand on his stomach. Luna’s impatient, so she runs across the couch again and barks as delicate as possible like she’s saying ‘come on, throw it again!’. 

“Ready?” He asks, lifting the cushion and inching nearer. “Go!” 

He tosses the object and Luna is quick to get it and give it back to Shawn, pinning up her swaying bum again. 

“Your mum would die laughing if she saw you like this,” Shawn comments as he keeps on playing with the dog, predicting that Y/N had never seen Luna being this friendly before. 

After 20 minutes of playing, Luna settles down onto Shawn’s lap and he dares to rub behind her ear with his forefinger only — not putting his entire hand to the danger that’s only in his mind because he think it’s better to lose only one finger than an entire hand. Luna doesn’t mind, just blinks her eyes very lazily as she catches her breath. 

“They say you’re kind of a babysitter type of dog, right?” He says looking at the way her lungs inflate and relax under her ribcage. “I hope this is actually accurate, ‘cause if your mum wants to have a baby with me, we’d need help,” Shawn thinks out loud, imagining their life as a family of four. “You seem to be very skilled, you know? I’m very clumsy, though,” Chuckling, he vents and sighs, not noticing two more fingers easing down to pet the dog on top of his leg. “And you make a very comfortable pillow in case the baby falls asleep on the floor while we’re busy with the chores,” 

The more he confesses, the bigger his hopes get. His heart is now warm with expectations, dreams and love. Although Luna can’t understand his words, she feels the passion radiating from his body and it calms her as she gives into the cozy tone of his voice. 

“Obviously, we wouldn’t just let the baby on the floor and give you all the job,” He rolls his eyes as if she was complaining back. “But a baby needs to learn on how to crawl and… Well, nevermind.” 

He stops as the door opens again, Y/N holding two bags of food. Luna snaps her black eyes open and immediately runs to meet her. 

“Hey you,” She greets the dog, handing Shawn the bags as he lifts himself up from the couch and comes closer. “Seems like someone was having a good nap, weren’t you?” 

Shawn nearly melts to her sweet pitchy tone while she talks to the dog, bending down on her knees to caress Luna. 

“How was she?” Y/N asks, coming up as the dog goes back to the couch and searches for the cushion she was previously playing with. 

“Great, actually,” Shawn answers, stealing a peck from Y/N’s lips. “Great pal, great friend, great listener,” 

“Oh, really?” Smirking, Y/N looks at Luna then back at Shawn. “What were you guys talking about?”

“Life,” He chuckles, unboxing their improvised brunch as Y/N looks for plates and glasses to set the table. “Plans for the future, basically.” 

“Interesting,” Y/N says, still smirking at his softness. Who’d say Shawn could go all sweet for a dog like Luna? “I know she’s got talent to be a great babysitter in the near future!” 

Shawn looks at the dog — busy biting the cushion between her paws — and then smiles, looking back at the table. He just remembers about the conversation and repeats his words wholeheartedly under a whisper.

“Thank God, because we’ll need help!”

[endofjunee]

📚 Drunk in Love (last thing I remember) by @lovehoperomance He’s stumbling to the left of the street, hopeful that it’s in the direction of his flat, when he sees it. A food truck. Lit up in gold. It's as if God has taken a giant highlighter and drawn a halo around it. Okay, so it might be the streetlight shining down on it and the yellow light emanating from within...but Louis will still claim godly intervention if anyone asks.

He weaves across the pavement, shivering in what he now realises is a very brisk London evening, coated in fog.

“Hello. Hi.” Louis steps in front of the entire line, waving an aimless hand at the man in the truck who looks completely bewildered by Louis’ antics. The man is littered in tattoos and wearing a green headscarf that matches the sea foam of his eyes. “Do you have any fried chicken? Or a drink? Oh, oh, do you have chips? Oh please tell me you have chips?”

The man’s face, which Louis faintly registers is quite angular, shifts from bewilderment into a stunning, slightly crooked smile.

Or, the one where Louis wakes up, naked, in a stranger's bed and has no idea how he got there. Maybe it's foul play. Maybe it's just the kindness of a handsome stranger amused by his drunken antics. 🌹 Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy by @chloehl10 Harry whimpered as Louis pushed himself up onto his tiptoes, grazing his ear lobe with his lips. His breath tickled Harry’s ears, and Harry swallowed, already anticipating what Louis was about to say.

“I’d like to ride you, cowboy…”

Or, Harry's a barman at Flaming Saddles, a country and western themed gay bar.

Louis’ a customer who’d like to see if the tall barman is as good on the ropes as everyone says he is...

📚 And That’s The Tea by @2tiedships2​ I’d like an Earl Grey with milk and sugar, please.

Louis had the phrase memorized, even though it had disappeared off its place on his upper arm over thirteen years ago now.

At fourteen he didn’t understand. Soulmarks don’t just disappear. Not unless…

Unless one of them dies.

Or, the one where Louis loses his soulmate before even getting the chance to meet them, and he is in no way prepared for the kind of distraction his new friend Harry proves to be. 🌹 I’ll Fly Away by @vintage-harry​ “Harold,” Louis spoke, but not too loud. He didn’t want to startle the cat pile. “Louis? What are you doing home?” Harry greeted him with a toothy smile. “Why are there three cats?” Louis pointed at the third one. “That’s Hail. He’s so sweet.” Louis blinked and shook his head slightly. “Why is he on the sofa, in the house, on the cats?” “He lives here now,” Harry stated as if Louis should already be aware of this. He was not aware of this news until now. “Since when?” He poked the cat in the head, his tiny black curtained head with white ears popped up. He mewed softly before blinking a few times. Louis thinks he looked offended. He looked at Harry expectantly. Harry looked fond. “For three days now.” He smiled at Louis. It reminded him of Dori smiling at Marlin in Finding Nemo.

Or, Louis and Harry live in a small town in Texas of just over 500 people and Harry seems to be growing cats in his garden. Love and fluff.  📚 Baby Honey 2.0 by @vintage-harry​ A few weeks passed by and Louis had spent a large portion of his time with incognito mode on as he Googled ways to hint at pregnancies. He came up with a few ideas but was impatient and felt uncreative at any idea. The most he read about was for online announcements. Louis decided one day while he was at Niall’s with two kittens laying on his stomach to take a photo and post it. He knew Harry would see it pretty quickly as he had Louis’ Instagram notifications on.

Louis held his phone out and took a few shots of the sleeping kittens on his stomach, thumbed through them and found the one he liked best and posted it with the caption, “Three little kittens” he hit post and waited. It didn’t take long, ten minutes later Harry left a comment asking where the third kitten was. Louis rolled his eyes and deleted the photo.

Or, Louis is pregnant this time and tries to find creative ways to hint about it to Harry. Only it doesn’t go as planned. 🌹 fuck fake friends by @artxghoul​ It’s better to just stay away. So he does. He tries his very best to. It’s just weird when you can’t be happy for someone. When you can’t encourage their achievements anymore, because they did it alone or with someone else, when it was supposed to be with you. Harry was supposed to always be with Louis.

Or, if you love someone, set them free. if they don't come back, text them when you're drunk. 📚 The Daddiest Place on Earth by @chloehl10​ dilfs_atdisneyworld: Ooh he's popular. Is it me or has it got hot in here? #dilf #hothothot #gimme

louist91: What the hell? Why the fuck am I on a DILFs page again?"

dilfs_atdisneyworld: louist91, Hello! You're on here because you're a DILF. A dad I'd like to f...😜

Louist91: dilfs_atdisneyworld Oh my god. Fuck off mate.

Or, Louis. Harry. Instagram. A whole lot of confusion and a whole lot of laughs... 🌹 Harry Poppins by @jacaranda-bloom​ When Louis’ best friends pass away he finds himself with an instant family. Maddie and Thomas are wonderful children but take an immediate dislike to every nanny that sets foot inside their house. After nanny number six is summarily dismissed Louis is at his wit’s end, that is until an unusual man arrives on their doorstep. Harry Styles is like nothing any of them have ever encountered before, and perhaps, exactly what they’ve been looking for all along.  📚 tonight’s not over (come over and stay) by @microlouis​ Zayn doesn’t say anything for a moment, pausing and worrying at his bottom lip. Finally, he asks, “Have you heard that Cox guy is coming out with a new song?” Louis freezes, fingers hovering over his keyboard where they had been typing his password.

“No, I hadn’t,” Louis says truthfully. “Where did you hear that?” “Tell anyone this and I’ll kill you, but I’d consider myself a big fan,” Zayn says. His face doesn’t change in expression, completely serious as he admits this to Louis. “Big fan? Like run a blog and everything?” Or, harry is a famous singer and louis is a student who just wants to write his novel. 🌹 Fiction Romance by @rougeandtonic​ Harry has a type.

He likes older, sophisticated, mature men. Well-educated men. Men with life experience and passion for arts and social causes. Men who are established in their careers, who've sorted their lives out.

Niall knows this.

And so Harry can't understand why he's sat here opposite Louis Tomlinson.

Or, a punk Louis/uni Harry blind date AU. 📚 Hope when the moment comes, you’ll say I did it all by SilverShadow1  Standing in front of them with an amused smile was an — there really was no other suitable word to describe him — angelic creature. Soft brown hair that was shaved on the sides and bright blue eyes that Harry had only seen in photos of the ocean; the lad was probably close in age to himself, yet seemed entirely boyish.

“Dad, put me down!” demanded Jess with no malice in her voice. Harry looked down in surprise, forgetting that she was in his right arm. “Oops,” he said, flushing. That caused the other lad to laugh. “Hi,” said the man at the door.

Or, the one where Louis is a piano teacher and Harry and his daughter are goners for him. 🌹 Graphic design is my passion by @kingsofeverything Graphic design student Louis Tomlinson has exams to study for and final art projects to complete, if it would stop raining long enough for him to walk across campus. Luckily Harry Styles has an umbrella, and he’s perfectly willing to share.

Louis doesn’t plan to get his heart broken and he doesn’t plan to make almost a hundred silicone dildos. One of these things definitely happens. 📚 i gotta get better! by @dystopianharry  Harry’s sex life has been pretty nonexistent since he broke up with his last non-soulmate boyfriend. after a chance encounter with someone online, he decides to enlist them to help him out. no strings attached, obviously.

Or, soulmates can feel each others’ pain and harry has some kinks he wants to explore. 🌹 Dreaming of You by @mizzwilde The Begrudging Starbucks AU.

The world is winter and steamed milk and creamy espresso shots. The world is a never ending queue. The world is a Starbucks logo and a pink-cheeked smile from Niall and a bored scowl from Zayn and the world is Louis watching his best mate, Liam, fall in love with their newest customer, Harry. Who may or may not be in love with Louis. The world is cruel. 📚 Through a Mirror Dimly by @londonfoginacup​ Louis Tomlinson, in his third year at university, does not expect nor want the roommate that is being assigned to his room.

Harry Styles, in his first year at university, has just been kicked out of one dorm and doesn't want to deal with yet another snobby, rich roommate.

They don't get along, and that's just how it is, until circumstances force them to reevaluate. 🌹 Raise a Glass to the Four of Us by @2tiedships2 Louis stared at his luggage.

Well. Apparently not his luggage, because the clothing he was looking at currently was a: worth more than everything he currently possessed, b: not his size at all, and c: more suited for a fancy ass lawyer than a holiday in NYC with his best mates.

“Ooh, nice loafers,” Niall said as he pulled one out of the suitcase. “I love the rainbows.”

“Okay,” Liam began. “What do you want to do first? Eat, shop for new clothes, or spend hours on the phone with the airline?”

Louis continued to stare at the luggage. 📚 His and Mine by @kissyboystyles​ Harry is adopted by a wealthy family, soon to be cleared of his connection to his soulmate without discussion on his twentieth birthday-- a gruesome rite of passage. For the past eight years, Harry has been staring at one name: Louis. But what happens now that his heart starts fluttering for a stranger, helping him remain strong at his weakest points? Harry feels he should be cautious; what kind of person goes by the name Tomlinson anyway…

Or, Harry legally isn't supposed to meet his soulmate-- he's rendered physically unable to recognize him even if he did-- but yet, of course, he does. 🌹 Drop to Hold You by @becomeawendybird After the end of the Second Wizarding War and the ensuing diplomacy between Muggles and the Wizarding world, the long-defunct Merlin College at Oxford opened it's doors again.

The ultra-competitive programs at Merlin require a rigorous application process. None more than the Auror training program. Louis finally manages to get in with his best friend Liam after a few false starts, only to be faced with the most beautiful, distracting man he could ever imagine. 📚 The Lone Hydrangea by @lightwoodsmagic “Thank you again,” he smiled at Harry as he picked up the arrangement and headed towards the door, and Harry quickly realised he didn’t know the man’s name. “I – wait! Sorry, I just...what’s your name?” At the man’s eyebrow raise, Harry stumbled over his words, “It’s just, if you’re coming back, I thought I should…know.” As the man looked at Harry, his smile only grew, and Harry’s heart thumped in his chest. “My name’s Louis. Louis Tomlinson, and it was so lovely to meet you,” he shot one final grin in Harry’s direction, “I’ll see you next week, Harry.” And then he was gone. “It was lovely to meet you too,” Harry whispered to the empty shop, putting his head on the counter, “Louis”.

Or, the post Hogwarts AU where Harry's a florist, Louis' a muggle who edits fantasy books, and they both have no say in how quickly they fall for each other. 🌹 A Little Bit Like Fate by @28shadesofpink “So,” Harry starts. “Since I heard you and your friend are not getting married, uhm... Would it be appropriate to ask you to stay for the kiss-in?” “Really?” Louis says, light and playful. “And who would I be kissing?” He looks up and offers a sweet smile, perfectly innocent. “Oh, I don’t know.” Harry is playing along, keeping his tone airy, but he takes a step forward and smirks. “With those cheekbones, I think you could kiss whoever you wanted.”

Or, Louis stumbles upon a kiss-in protest for LGBTQ rights, and he meets Harry. They click. It feels a little bit like fate. 📚 come together by @bottomlinsons Harry and Louis slept together three weeks ago, and haven’t talked.

Their coming group project is gonna change that. 🌹 Seeing Blind by @that-idiot-overthere Louis finally turns his head in Liam’s direction, knows his face is showing the longing he’s been aching with ever since it took root in his chest. “What the fuck do I do, Liam? He wouldn’t want me like that, but I want-” his voice cracks, and he turns his face back downwards. “What do you do when you’re not perfect for the person who’s perfect for you?”

Or,  the one where Harry’s an independent omega who likes to have his fun and Louis is the blind alpha that changes Harry’s priorities. 📚 Sweet as Cherry Wine by @harrieberrie Broken hearts are healed by the luck of the Irish

Or, Louis and Niall are a mess, Niall’s daughter has a hopeless crush, and Harry is hopelessly clueless 🌹 at the end of my rope by @saffona "Baby?” Harry mumbles, voice laced with sleep and a shiver goes through Louis at hearing the term. He hasn’t called him that in so long, in that voice and, clearly, even Louis’ body fucking misses it.

“Did you cheat on me?” Louis finds himself asking. If he’s being honest it’s more so he can see Harry’s reaction, than a genuine question, but what has he got to lose? Sure enough, Harry’s face changes from sleepy to the most incredulous look Louis’ ever seen on him. He actually looks terrified, all wide eyes, mouth gaping like he can’t believe Louis would even assume that and Louis would laugh at it, but he’s so done with the way Harry’s been acting, he just wants to know what the hell’s going on.

Or, the one where they go to Crete and Harry is definitely hiding something. 📚 truth, justice, and the gay way by @hattalove Liam needs a costume. Louis needs a best best friend award, a holiday, and to get a grip.

(Harry’s just in the right place at the right time.) 🌹 Hello My Name Is Harry by @a-brighter-yellow Louis’s 20-year high school reunion takes a turn when a celebrity classmate – who also happens to be Louis’s long unrequited crush – unexpectedly shows up.

A famous/not-famous AU inspired by Chris Evans.

[Previous Monthly Recs]

[let-it-raines]

Emma sends her friend Killian a text, not noticing the horrible autocorrect mistake and Killian gets the wrong idea.

All she needs is for finals to be over in two weeks. She needs them to be over, and then she’ll be free to do whatever the hell she wants for three months. Yeah, she’ll probably end up getting a job down at the Sheriff’s station, something she does with her dad every year since she’s been old enough to legally work there as an intern…which is definitely a bit of a stretch. She’s not exactly sure how her dad gets the approval from town council to pay her for answering phones and fiddling around on her computer for three months out of the year, but he somehow does. Whatever. It works for her. She gets to help out on the occasional interesting case that happens in Storybrooke and spend time with her dad.

It’s kind of like the dream for a twenty-two year old who’s a semester behind in college but can’t finish over the summer because her classes aren’t offered then. That sucks, a lot, but she’s a bit thankful for the extra six months to figure out what the hell it is she’s going to be doing for the rest of her life, which is terrifying in and of itself.

The fifty minutes of her advanced corporate finance class (she’d like to have words with whoever the hell decided this was necessary for a criminal justice major) tick by at a snail’s pace, Dr. Jitka’s monotone voice nearly lulling her into sleep until there’s an elbow hitting into her ribs at such a force that she almost falls back in her chair, having to grab onto the table in front of her to keep her from falling backward.

She knows exactly who just elbowed her, her eyes quickly glancing to her right where Killian is diligently taking down notes in his neat handwriting looking as if he didn’t just knock the breath out of her and nearly knock her over.

Asshole.

But then she sees the smallest of smiles on his face, his pink lips stretching out under the black of his scruff and the shade of his baseball cap. Yeah, that’s what she thought. It’s not like there’s anyone else who could have possibly elbowed her in the ribs.

Dr. Jitka finally finishes talking, their allotted time ending, and she scurries to pack up all of her stuff and make it to the Starbucks in the building, caffeine calling her name. Killian follows behind her, his longer strides allowing him to keep up with her hurried pace, even managing to pass her and sneak in front of her in line, the asshole.

“I need my coffee, Jones.”

“You are not the only person who’s tired, love. Do you even have any money left on your card?”“Ahh,” she groans, bringing her bottom lip between her teeth, “no, no I don’t. I was just going to pay with cash.”

He reaches up to scratch behind his ear, something she’s noticed him do a lot in their four months of knowing each other. She thinks it’s a nervous tick. He does it before he asks a question in class, which she’s decided is his weakness. He’s this really confident guy, seemingly never lacking in it, except when he doesn’t know what’s going on, which isn’t often. He’s freakishly smart, is only in this class as his minor since his major is in mechanical engineering, and she kind of thinks he gets down on himself when he doesn’t know what’s going on.

But who is she to know the inner workings of Killian Jones? They’re friends, they talk, they study together a lot, but he’s still teetering on one of those people where she’s got a fifty-fifty shot of talking to him after graduation. Because, really, what do they have in common besides being in a torturous advanced corporate finance class?

(The same taste in movies, television shows, books, a liking for black coffee, the ability to stay up past four in the morning with no issue, the same biting sarcasm, a penchant for innuendos…maybe a few other things.)

But who knows? She, who doesn’t like making new friends, likes being his friend, even if she does call him an asshole more than she calls him by his actual name. So maybe she’ll put in the effort so that they can be friends outside of this class. He’s got an entire year left compared to her one semester, so it’s not like he’s going anywhere.

“I’ve got money I’m not going to use. I can pay.”

Her lips gape open, the act of kindness shocking her considering he never pays for her stuff when she forgets her food card. “Really?”

“Aye, it’s not like it transfers over to next semester anyway. You want something to eat?”

“A cake pop.”

“Love, it’s not even noon.”

“You offered. Don’t knock on what I’m getting. And I want my coffee – ”

“ – black but you’ll add two sugars to it, I know.”

“Good man,” she sighs, patting him on the back. “I’m going to go get that table in the corner before someone else does.

She walks out of line, dodging people and hoping and praying that no one takes the spot. It doesn’t seem like that big of a deal, but an open table is pretty much buried treasure, so when you see one, you have to take it and claim it as your own. It’s a tough competition to not be sitting outside in the rain, which has been a constant for the past few days. She manages to snag the table, plopping her backpack down in Killian’s chair so that no one takes it before pulling out her laptop and opening up her notes, trying to understand what the hell Dr. Jitka was even talking about.

Killian joins her ten minutes later, placing her coffee and cake pop down on the table while he settles across from her, his legs kicking hers and shaking the table when he crosses them underneath the wood. When she goes to grab her cup, she sees a number written in sharpie right under Killian’s name. She rolls her eyes. Of course the barista gave Killian her number. She didn’t even know people did that, but apparently they do.

“So how did you charm the barista for her to give you her number on my cup?”

“Oh I didn’t.”“Then why is this number on my cup?”

“Amy, up there, is my ex. I have her number blocked, and every time I’m in here she writes her number on my cup. I hate to say an ex is crazy because, well, that’s kind of a sucky thing to do, but Amy is crazy.”

“You’re telling me that your ex-girlfriend works in here, and not only do you still come in here but you also trust that she’s not going to spit into your food?”

He puts his cup down on the table, his lips twisting up and his forehead wrinkling. “Never thought about that second thing. Bloody hell.” She laughs, reaching over and taking a sip of her drink. “Ah, ah, ah, love, if she’s spitting in my drink, what’s she going to do to yours?”

“Nothing? I’m your friend.”

“Amy doesn’t know that.”

“Oh gross,” she groans, putting her coffee down on the table and looking over at the counter, where, sure enough, Amy is staring them down. “Why’d you guys break up?”

“She thought I was cheating on her so she cheated on me.”

“Were you?”

“Nope. I like to consider myself a one woman type of guy. I’m not quite sure how she got the idea that I was cheating.”

“Well, Amy seems like a gem.”

“You want to know the kicker of it all?”

“Sure, Jones.” She leans forward, closing her laptop so she can prop her elbows up on the table. “Tell me all of your dirty little secrets.”

“She cheated on me with my best friend.”

“Shit. Really?”

“Aye. Obviously he’s no longer my best mate, but that was a fun time.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but at least you’re not with someone who’d cheat on you. No one deserves that.”

“So,” Killian whistles, picking up his cup again and eyeing it for a few seconds before seemingly deciding to screw it and drink his coffee, “you going home to your weird little town of Storybrooke for the summer?”

Changing the subject. Got it.

“It’s not weird. It’s just got an interesting name.”

“You guys have, like, one market, a diner, and a library. It’s like every small town you’d see in a movie.”

“Well, not all of us live full time in Portland, but yeah, I think I’ll go home and work for my dad. It’s easy cash, I get to spend time with him, watch all of the tourists roll in, and buy a ridiculous amount of ice cream.”

“Sounds like a dream. I’ve got to do my last semester of co-op.”“That sucks.”

“Eh, since it’s my last semester I get a pay raise, and I get paid double overtime. So obviously I’m going to be chomping at the bit for that so I can graduate with some actual money in my bank account.”

Her phone buzzes then, a text from Ruby, and that’s when she sees that she’s ten minutes late for her next class which is in another building. “Shit, I’ve got to go. I’m late for class.”

“Don’t forget about the assignment.”

“I won’t,” she promises, picking up her backpack and running out of the door, leaving her possibly poisoned coffee sitting on the table, her entire purpose for coming into Starbucks pointless now.

-/-

Emma: Joooooooonesssss.

Killian: Swan.

Emma: Oh come on, you’re supposed to be just as dramatic as me.

Killian: Oh my Swan, my Swan, whatever is wrong with the fair maiden that she calls out my name like that, since I do assume that it’s not in pleasure.

Emma: Okay, well I didn’t mean to be that dramatic.

Emma: I don’t understand our last homework assignment.

Emma: I need a B on it.

Emma: Can you help?

Killian: Of course. My place or the library?

Emma: Your place. I’m so frustrated.

Killian: What time?

Ruby calls out her name then, something about the two of them forgetting to pay a bill, and she groans as she gets up from the comfort of her bed (which is likely another reason she wasn’t getting anything done) to go see what’s happening. Ruby is scrolling through their apartment’s portal, showing her their last statement, so she doesn’t really look when she replies to Killian’s text.

Emma: How about sex tonight?

Emma: I don’t think I can finish without you.

Killian: Yeah, okay, that’s perfect ;)

She puts away her phone in her back pocket, forgetting about it and not seeing Killian’s next text as she deals with them not paying the electrical bill, which was definitely Ruby’s fault because she was in charge of paying their bills due on the first this month.

Killian: But what time are you coming over?

-/-

She pulls up to Killian’s apartment around five forty-five, but it takes a solid ten minutes to find parking. He lives close to campus, which blows her mind that he can simply walk to class, but those are the kinds of perks that she guesses you get when you’re on scholarship and literally only have to pay for somewhere to live. Seriously, even his textbooks are paid for.

It pays to be smart, apparently.

But once she finds parking a good half a mile away, she grabs her backpack and starts walking toward his place. She’s a little sweaty by the time she gets there, the rain stopping and humidity starting, but that’s fine. She’s just in her gym clothes anyways. When she knocks on his door, it takes no more than ten seconds for it to swing open.

Was he waiting for her?

Weird, but he is a stickler for time.

She doesn’t think anything of it until she gets a good look at Killian…and of the apartment. He’s wearing jeans and a light blue button down, the elbows rolled up to show his forearms. It’s a normal outfit, sure, but Killian rolls into class in sweatpants and a Henley or t-shirt, his hair usually tucked under a baseball cap. But right now it’s artfully tossed, the kind where you know the guy spent time on it but won’t admit to it. And is he…he’s wearing cologne. It smells damn good, but she’s confused.

Really confused.

Because he’s got soft music playing in the background, and she swears that she sees candles flickering in his kitchen.

“Hello, love,” he greets, bending down and kissing her cheek. When he pulls back, she can still feel where his lips touched her skin, the bristle of his scruff…she doesn’t hate it. She just doesn’t know what’s going on. “Why don’t you come in? Make yourself at home.”

“Was planning on it.” She makes her way into his apartment, passing his living area and heading toward the kitchen table only for him to grab her wrist, lightly tugging until she turns around.

“I feel like the living room would be better, or even the bedroom.”

“Weird but okay.” She’s definitely not going into his bedroom to do homework. That would be a disaster and uncomfortable on so many levels, so she settles down onto his couch, immediately pulling out her stuff while Killian sits down next to her, close enough that their thighs touch.

Her skin sparks the slightest bit, gooseflesh rising on her arms, but she ignores it, pulling open her notebook to where she’d been working out some of the more complex questions so she can get him to figure out where the hell she went wrong. But when she turns to ask him how to do the weighted average cost of capital, his face is freakishly close to hers the heat of his breath ghosting over her lips. And then before she knows it, his lips are on hers.

It’s nice, and she leans into it, returning the kiss and sliding her lips over his while his scruff brushes into her skin and his hands lightly thread into her hair. She gets lost in it, forgetting about who she’s kissing or why she’s here until he groans and his fingers grasp into her hair. That’s when it all comes back to her and she yanks back, separating the two of them and falling back on the couch, her notebook crashing to the ground while Killian blinks down at her.

“What the…” she stutters, hear heart beating quickly within her chest, “…what the hell was that?”

“What the hell was that?”

“I asked you first.”

“Are you five?”

“No, but I’m confused.”

“So am I.”

“You kissed me.”

“You kissed me back.”

“Well, I don’t despise you, and you’re a good kisser surprisingly enough. But I don’t…I don’t know where that came from.”

“What do you mean you don’t know where that came from?”

“Because I don’t? We’re supposed to be doing the damn assignment.”

“You literally sent me a text asking to sleep with me.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” she cries, backing up further on the couch until she’s sitting on the arm and curling into herself while her face heats. She’s probably red enough to pass as a tomato. “I did what now? Because I would literally never  ask anyone to sleep with me through text.”

If she’s red, Killian is worse. He keeps running his hands through his hair, making it stand up in a million different ways, while his lips open and close over and over again. What the hell is going on?

This is WACK and it has nothing to do with the Weighted Average Cost of Capital.

Oh wow, she just made a finance joke in her head. Maybe she really is losing it.

“But you did,” Killian says, reaching into his back pocket for his phone. “Here, you sent one text that says ‘how about sex tonight?’ And then right after you said ‘I can’t finish without you.’ I thought it was strange and pretty unconventional, but I don’t know. We get along. I think you’re gorgeous, but there’s obviously been some kind of misunderstanding, and I’m just going to never show my face in our class again.”

“You’d miss the final.”

“Thanks for the obvious, Swan.”

She waves her hand toward him, scooting down on the couch and sitting cross legged so that she’s closer to him. “Let me see the messages.” He hands the phone over, the messages still open, and she reads through them right up until…”How about sex tonight? I can’t finish without you. And oh my God, I said I was frustrated earlier.”

Her laugh begins low in her belly, making her entire body shake until she’s dry heaving, basically hiccupping into the laugh, and she can’t breathe. She’s laughing so hard that she can’t breathe. Killian’s phone falls to the couch, landing in between her legs while she covers her mouth with her hands to try to stop the appalling sound that’s coming out of her mouth. This is hysterical, and she has never been so glad to misspell a text.

“I’m glad you find this so funny, Swan.”

“Oh c-come on,” she gasps, wiping the tears that are falling from her eyes, “this is fantastic. I meant six, you know? I did not mean sex.”

“Aye,” Killian gruffs, rubbing his hands up and down his face until he’s practically pulling his hair out, “I realize that now. I’m sorry that I…I’m sorry that I misunderstood, that I pushed myself on you. I’m also sorry that I’m a bloody idiot.”

She shakes her head back in forth, disbelief over this whole thing settling in while she tries to stifle her laughter. She leans over and pats Killian’s knee, which only makes him groan more. “I’ve always heard the jokes about engineers not having social skills, but I really didn’t expect you to fall into that category.”

“Are you trying to torture me?”

“Absolutely not. I still need your help with my homework, and you can’t do that if you’re both emotionally and sexually frustrated.”

“Oi,” he protests, his lips finally ticking up into the smallest of smiles, atta boy, “I am not sexually frustrated.”

“Maybe you are. Maybe you’re not. Also,” she begins, getting up from the couch and wandering around the room, turning the music up on his Bluetooth stereo and blowing out the candles, “now I know what Killian Jones does when seducing a woman, and this is something I’m going to remember forever.”

“Can you knock me out so I forget?”

“No. Then I’d mess up your perfectly styled hair that I know you spent a lot of time on, not that you haven’t already done a number on it with all of that tugging.”

“I hate you.”

“Oh, I think that’s a lie.” She walks back over to him, settling down on the couch next to him and propping her head up on her palm before she sing-songs, “You think I’m gorgeous. You want to kiss me. You want to hug me. You want to love me.”

Killian rolls his eyes, a more genuine smile on his face now. “Okay, Sandra Bullock.”

“I like that you get the reference.”

“I’ve seen the movie.”

She laughs again, bending down to pick up her stuff, flipping back to her notebook page with her homework. “Killian, I promise you don’t have anything to worry about or be embarrassed with. I will never bring it up again if you want. We’ll just finish this homework and study, okay?”

“Aye, that sounds like a plan, though I don’t think I can truly forget.”

So they eventually get around to her homework. She’s still confused, doesn’t think she’ll ever understand it, but Killian talks her through it enough that she might get partial credit on the final. Possibly. She’s not really sure. But she does know she’ll at least get an A on the homework. It helps to have a genius friend who may or may not want to have sex with you but who can definitely help you with your assignments when you feel like pulling your hair out.

After they’re finished with their assignment, everything submitted through the online portal, Killian orders a pizza, grabbing two beers out of his fridge and handing one to her while a baseball game plays on the television. She doesn’t mean to, but she watches him as he takes a sip, his jaw ticking while he tilts the bottle against his lips.

It’s…attractive.

And it’s not exactly news to her. She’s always known Killian was attractive. It’d be hard to miss. His eyes…well, damn, he’s got some of the prettiest eyes she’s ever seen, and his smile is just a bright. The fact that she knows he works out regularly helps. A little. Or a lot.

His personality helps more than a lot.

Does she…like him? Maybe. Probably. Definitely.

Oh God, feelings are the worst, and she’s not sure that she wants them.  

Okay, she kind of wants them.

She kind of wants him.

“Killian?”

“Yeah, love?” he asks, not looking away from the game on the TV.

“Did you really want to sleep with me?”

He groans, falling back into the couch so that his head falls against the cushion and his hair flops in his face. “I thought you said we could forget about it.”

“I did…I just – I’m curious.”

He points over at her, seemingly circling her entire being. “Of course I wanted to sleep with you. I mean, I’d prefer that we were both on the same page and that maybe, you know, you’d let me take you out on a date first.”

“Killian Jones,” she gasps, reaching over and squeezing his shoulder, “are you asking me out on a date?”

“That is not what I said.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t mean to send you a sext, but here we are.” She laughs as he groans again, throwing his arm over his eyes. “My answer would be yes, by the way.”

He lifts his arm, peeking over at her. “Really?”

“Yeah, let’s go with the Friday after finals are over.”

“Why, Swan, are you asking me out on a date?”

She leans over and quickly slides her lips over his. Killian’s the one who takes a moment to react this time, his lips soft when they finally move over hers and his hand gentle as it threads into his hair. She meant for it to be short and sweet, but as she readjusts herself to straddle his lap, her knees on either of his thighs, it intensifies, Killian groaning into her mouth as his tongue traces at the seam of her lips. That’s when she pulls back, resting her forehead against his and loosening her grip in his hair.

“So it’s a date then, Swan?”

“Yeah, you can pick me up at sex.”

[urdearestmom]

I Love You A Latte

so ao3 won’t let me post this for some reason. I’ve been working on it for about five months and it’s probably trash but here is this monster, the longest oneshot i’ve ever written!!!!!!!!!! 

i’d like to dedicate it to @robynhoots because she loves mileven just as much as i do and also @fatechica because her 27k chapters of solely quality content inspire me :DD thanks ladies!!!!!  

El looks up as the door opens, and there they are again. The redheaded girl and the tall guy, pushing each other through the entry and glaring. It's a regular occurrence, so she knows that's just how they are and not that they're about to punch each other out or something. El turns away to wipe down the counter, trying to avoid staring at the couple as they head to a table and spread out their belongings. She can admit that she low-key has a crush on the dude, but he's clearly another girl's boyfriend and she's not going to get herself in the way of that. It's just a crush, after all.

He comes up to the counter and awkwardly smiles at her. The pair always comes at this time, when this particular Starbucks isn't very busy, so there's no one else working the register and machines.

"Hi, what can I get you today?" El asks. She always feels a little bit like her feet are about to lift off the ground from nerves whenever Mike comes to order instead of his girlfriend. He's so tall it should be intimidating, but it only would be if he was thicker. As it is, he's a walking bundle of twigs with a mop of dark hair on top. For some reason, El finds it attractive. She thinks he's just about the cutest guy she's ever seen: dark hair, dark eyes, a face splashed with freckles. She just wishes he wasn't already taken.

"A tall iced coffee with milk and a grande chai latte for Mike and Max, please," he answers, pulling his wallet out.

"Don't get my order wrong!" Calls the redhead from their seats, smirking.

Mike rolls his eyes and huffs exasperatedly. "I've never gotten her order wrong in my life," he says, looking at El and shaking his head.

She plasters on her customer service smile and replies, "That'll be six eighty-nine, please."

They've been coming in since before she even started working there, El thinks. At least, her manager told her that Mike and Max had been regulars for a long time when she asked. So they've been together for a while. El's kind of envious, not just because she thinks Mike is cute, but because they seem like the type of couple everyone wants to be. They're confident together, and they look happy. Well, sometimes. Most of the time one of them is ribbing the other while their partner fumes. A lot of the time they come in just for drinks and a study session, spreading out books and laptops across wherever they've decided to sit that day, and they'll spend hours sitting across from each other without saying a word. She's never seen them kiss or hold hands or anything of the sort, but El figures maybe they're just not into PDA (which would suck for her if they were).

Their relationship is actually kind of aggressive. Whenever El's not super busy (which is always), she likes to watch them, and she's noticed that Max seems to like hostile physical interaction. She slaps Mike upside the head or punches him in the arm a lot, and sometimes she even kicks him, but he always retaliates by either pulling her hair or with a slew of sharp words. It's an interesting dynamic, and El wonders if she weren't so shy, would she have been able to make friends with them? She kind of wants to. God knows she needs friends; this is her third year in college and she barely has any.

It's on one day, when Max comes in alone, that El decides that she's going to talk to her. It's less of a task without Mike there because he makes her nervous, and Max seems like the type of girl who'd be open to a conversation. She's also in one of El's sociology classes, so that could be something to talk about.

The redhead is leaning against the end of the counter as El makes her regular chai latte, blowing strands of hair out of her face. El takes a deep breath and opens her mouth to speak before she loses her courage. "So, what are you studying?"

Max jerks back to attention. "Sorry, what?"

El gulps. "Um, what- what are you studying? You know, like, what are you in college for?"

"Oh," Max says, nodding. "I'm in marketing."

"That's cool," El answers, turning off the machine before passing off the cup to the other girl. "You like it?"

Max rips open a packet of sugar. "It's fine, I guess. Never really what I pictured myself doing, growing up, but I'm here and I'm not bored and I don't hate it," she replies, pouring the sugar in. "What about you?"

El takes a quick look around the store, noting that there are no new customers. "Developmental psych, but sociology minor. You enjoying Tepperman's class?"

Max's eyes widen. "I knew I recognized you! Ellen, right?"

"Eleanor, actually," El says, smiling. "Old nickname, it's my middle name. It stuck."

Max smiles back. "Hey, I don't wanna take you away from your job or anything, but the store looks pretty empty so… you want to come sit down? I have so many questions about that goddamned class and my friend is busy today so…"

No way is El going to pass up the opportunity to begin what she feels could be a beautiful friendship. "Sure!"

It goes naturally from there. El sits down with Max whenever she's alone, and they exchange phone numbers shortly after their first meeting. A few times, she even sits down when Mike is there too, although she talks a lot less because she feels like she's intruding on their time together. She finds that Max is a spitfire, just exactly as she looks, and that Mike is a really nice guy with a sharp tongue. He's an engineering major (somehow, that makes him even more attractive. El needs to get over it). They mention someone named Lucas a lot, but neither of them ever specifies who that is and El doesn't want to ask. She assumes he must be one of their friends.

It's been about a month since she first talked to Max, and she wonders if she's ever going to meet their other friends, or if she's just the random Starbucks employee they talk to sometimes. The answer comes one afternoon when Max gets up to leave.

"I'm gonna head home to get ready," she says, swinging her bag over her shoulder and nodding at Mike.

"Alright, guess I'll see you later then," he answers. "Try not to ravage the bathroom while you're at it, would you?"

She rolls her eyes. "Fuck you." She's standing there looking between El and Mike as if waiting for one of them to say something.

"Are you leaving or what, Mayfield?" Mike asks exasperatedly. Max stands there for a moment more before winking at him. He sinks lower in his seat, flushing. "Kindly fuck off, I'll see you later."

She laughs and walks away, waving as she pushes the door open and disappears onto the street.

"So you guys live together?" El asks, picking at her nails and trying not to make it obvious that the new information makes her uncomfortable. Clearly, there's another level of commitment here that she hadn't been aware of. It makes her crush on Mike even more awkward than it already is.

Mike sighs, reaching for his drink and taking a sip. "Yeah. It's easier to live with someone you know than to room with people you've never met. It could be a gamble with new people, but Max and I have known each other our whole lives."

"Oh? How'd you guys meet?"

"We were neighbours and our parents were friends so we grew up together, but we kind of hated each other until like, junior year," he says, tracing a finger around the rim of his cup. "Shit happened and we realized that neither of us was as bad as we thought. Been inseparable since."

Suddenly, he laughs. "Ask anyone from our hometown about Mike Wheeler and Max Mayfield, they'll tell you. Anyway," he adds, leaning forward, "We're heading out to Detroit tonight, it's our friend's birthday. We were wondering if you wanted to come? If you're off work, that is."

El's shocked, and she doesn't know what to say for a moment. Mike must take this the wrong way, because he says, "It's no problem if you don't want to! It's just, the others want to meet you. We talk a lot about you."

"You- you do?"

He smiles. "Yeah! You're really cool."

Her heart flutters, even though she tells herself not to let it. "Um- yeah, my- my shift ends at six-thirty, is that enough time?"

"Totally," he says enthusiastically. "We're all meeting up at mine and Max's place before we leave, I'll text you the address."

A few moments later, her phone buzzes, and when El looks at the address she's surprised to find that- "We live in the same building!"

"Oh, cool! We're on the eighth floor, apartment 8D," Mike says, pointing at her with his straw. "You should come by sometime."

El scoffs. "Yeah, maybe, if you need help with your humanities classes."

Mike's smile disappears and he clutches his chest dramatically. "You're starting to sound like Max! Where is the nice, kind El I once knew?! Where hath she gone?!"

She snorts, then covers her face, her eyes widening. "Oh my god, that was nasty. I am so sorry you had to hear that."

Mike shrugs. "It was kind of c-"

"Also, you're so dramatic," El adds, forging on.

He laughs again. "That's what happens when you have two sisters and end up living with Max Mayfield, biggest drama queen on the planet."

"I feel like she would dump your ass on the side of the road if she heard you say that," El says, tapping her nails against the table.

Mike snorts, taking a drink. "She would. I'm sure she's considered kicking me out just for breathing too loud sometimes."

El's about to respond when the door opens and a customer enters. "Well, guess it's time for me to get back to work!"

She's not free for another hour, and by then it's six-fifteen. When she looks around the store, she sees that Mike is gone. She frowns. She hadn't noticed him leave, but when she checks her phone for the text she'd gotten about half an hour ago it's from him.

Mike [5:43 PM]: Hey sorry I left without saying bye you looked busy but 8D around 8pm ok?

[6:16 PM]: I'll be there dw haha, she responds.

He texts back immediately. Mike [6:16 PM]: Cool see you soon :D

El slips her phone back into her pocket with a smile and turns to see one of the baristas for the shift after hers clocking in. "Hey," she says. "Kinda dead in here and I've got somewhere to be, do you mind if I clock out now?"

At quarter to eight, El's ready. As she makes her way to the eighth floor of her building, she's wondering what the others will be like. She likes Mike and Max just fine and they seem to like her, but will she fit in with the rest of the group? Then she's in front of 8D and she's knocking on the door. There's some muffled yelling from inside (likely arguing about who's going to open the door) and a few moments of silence before it swings open.

Max stands on the other side, dressed in a nice white blouse tucked into fitted black pants. She's got red lips, but other than that her makeup is pretty simple, and half of her hair is straightened. She grins. "Come on in, El. Mike'll be out in a second, he's just being a bitch. Michael!"

There's a muffled "I'm coming!" From somewhere inside the apartment, and then Mike comes out of a room at the end of a hall, messing up his own hair.

"Hi," El says as Max disappears back into what El assumes is the bathroom. "Since when is your hair curly?"

Mike blushes, actually blushes, putting his hands into his pants pockets. He's in a light blue polo and navy pants, a matching blazer thrown over top, and El thinks he looks great. The curly hair is new, though. "Uh, this is what it looks like if I don't blow dry it," he answers, laughing nervously. "Which I always do, but someone's hogging the bathroom!"

"Fuck off, Wheeler! You should've come home earlier but you were too busy ogling a certain someone to remember what time it was!"

At that, he blanches and stalks toward the bathroom door, wrenching it open. "Do you want to shut your mouth for once in your goddamn life, Max?"

Max doesn't answer, but El can hear her humming to herself, ignoring Mike completely. El wonders who he was staring at. Are Max and Mike having problems? For a second she lets herself be selfishly happy that they might, because maybe it'll give her an opening, but then she quickly reprimands herself for thinking that way. They're her friends, she's not going to wish something as horrible as a breakup on what seems to be a perfectly good relationship.

Mike gestures awkwardly around. "Shall I give you the tour? The others aren't here yet. Lucas said they've got him on a late night at the observatory, Max, by the way!" He calls toward the other girl.

Max curses. "And to think I was excited about tonight!"

"It's Dustin's birthday, we have to celebrate anyway! He's already bummed enough that Lucas isn't coming," Mike replies. He turns to El. "Anyway, that's the bathroom," he says, gesturing to where Max is. Motioning to the general area beyond the front door, he tells her it's the living room-slash-kitchen, which is made obvious by the TV/sofa combination on one side and kitchen appliances and furniture on the other. Also, the entire apartment is the same general layout as hers, but she lets him talk anyway. Listening to Mike talk is a guilty pleasure.

The only thing different from her apartment is the fact that this one has two rooms. "That's Max's," Mike says, leading El down the hall and pointing to the door left slightly ajar, "And this is mine." He opens the door directly across to reveal a nicely sized room with a queen-size bed and a dresser in it. It's not messy like she expected it to be, which is nice. It means Mike's not a messy person. What she does question, though, is why they sleep in separate rooms, but she keeps it to herself. Maybe Mike snores, or maybe Max is a kicker.

There's a knock on the door and Mike goes to get it, revealing a man a few inches taller than El with light brown hair and green eyes. He has a kind face, and El takes to him right away. "This is Will," Mike says, gesturing the man in. "Will, this is El."

Will smiles and extends a hand. "The El I've heard so much about?" A look passes between him and Mike, and then Mike glares at him and Will laughs. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise," El says. She stands in the living room with Will and Mike for a few minutes, talking, until there's another knock.

"That'll be Dustin," says Will, and Mike lets in another man with curly hair that's got a weird shape to it. It looks like he wears a hat over it all the time, and that's when El recognizes him as the hat-wearing guy from her abnormal psych class.

"Hey," she says. "I'm El." She extends a hand to shake one of his. "You're in Denton's class, right? The guy with the hat?"

Dustin grins. "You got me! And you must be the El we've all been waiting to meet. Mike talks about you a lot." He coughs, looking over her shoulder. "Um, Max does too," he adds.

El thinks it's a little weird that he specified that, but she's not going to question him about it. The four of them spend a few more minutes wishing Dustin a happy birthday and talking as they wait for Max, and El finds that she likes Will and Dustin a lot. They're easy to talk to and really funny. She feels like she is fitting in, after all. When Max emerges, she goes straight to the birthday boy to give him a big hug, and then pulls back and says, "El's coming with me, I want some girl time before we spend the entire night with you boys."

"Don't say anything weird to her, Max," groans Mike.

"Don't get your panties in such a twist then," she retorts.

Will and Dustin smile, used to their friends by now, and El just looks on in slight amusement. Max drives a Smart car, so it only fits two people anyway, and the three boys pile into Mike's blue Kia Forte before they all peel off to the interstate in the direction of Detroit.

The girls travel in comfortable fun, talking and making jokes as usual, but with the addition of singing along to the radio. It's all good and happy until twenty minutes into the drive when Max goes in for the kill.

"So... you like Mike, right?"

El almost chokes on her own spit. She's trying to hide her shock as she turns the radio down a little bit. "Um, yeah, I guess? We're friends," she says mildly.

Max smirks as if she knows something El doesn't and shakes her head. "You know that's not what I meant."

El swallows, tugging at one of her curls. Her crush's girlfriend is asking whether she likes him. What is she supposed to say to that? Turns out, Max already has an answer.

"I know you do, you're kinda obvious," she says. "Although I can see why you might not want to admit it. I think it'd be a little embarrassing to have a crush on that. But that's just me, I guess."

Now El's wondering what the hell is even happening. Max doesn't seem angry at all, quite the opposite in fact. She seems pleased that another girl has taken an interest in Mike. Which is... completely bizarre, to say the least. Maybe they want a threesome or something. "You're not mad?"

Max's eyes look like they're going to fall out of her head as she looks at El. "Why would I be mad?"

El looks down, wanting to avoid eye contact with the other girl. "I mean... if I had a boyfriend and another girl liked him, I don't think I'd be happy about it."

It's dead silent for a few moments but for the radio, until Max bursts out laughing.

"Oh my god!" She exclaims. "You thought he was my boyfriend?!"

El's cheeks flush in embarrassment. "Yeah..."

Max is still laughing. "I can't breathe," she wheezes. She's silent for a few moments before her face wrinkles. "He's not. That's so gross I can't even imagine it."

"But you guys are so close, I just thought..." El trails off, refusing to look at the redhead.

Max shakes her head. "Mike's like my brother, in every way. I don't even like him most of the time, I just put up with him."

El looks out the window, taking a deep breath to gather her courage, much like the first time she spoke to Max. "Okay, so I like him. Why did you want me to admit it?"

Max smirks again. "Tonight's the perfect night to make your move."

"Nope," El shakes her head. "I am way too anxious for that. Also, I don't want our friendship to be awkward if it doesn't go through."

"Why wouldn't it, though? He's liked you since you were in his classics lecture. You know-"

"He was in my classics?"

"Yes," Max says exasperatedly. "But that's not the point. You know we started going to Starbucks way more often after you got a job there? I'm broke because of his bitch ass wanting to see you all the time but never saying anything," she adds with an eye roll.

"I- okay," El says. "I'll try."

Max reaches out to clap her on the shoulder. "Atta girl! And for the record, I'm dating Lucas."

El smiles. "I'll keep that in mind for when I meet him."

Upon arriving in the city, El spends her time looking out the window and marvelling at the sights. She only passed through Detroit on her way to college the first year, and since she hasn't had many friends, she hasn't had many outings. The city is new to her, and she loves all the lights and colours and people walking around. Max pulls up in front of a small restaurant and the boys park behind her, everyone getting out of the cars and stretching for a moment before walking into the establishment.

El ends up beside Mike (because of course she does), Will and Max across from them and Dustin at the head of the table. Dinner runs smoothly besides Dustin burning his tongue on the soup he ordered, El fitting into the group seamlessly. It's looking to be a great night, but El's wondering how Max thinks she's supposed to make her move. She can't exactly do it in a restaurant, can she?

Her opportunity comes in the form of the group going to a club. Dustin's just turned twenty-one, but the rest of them are already overage so they might as well enjoy themselves, right? The three non-drivers have spent the last half hour or so knocking back mojitos, margaritas, and daiquiris, so Max and Mike are sitting off to the side enjoying watching their friends lose their inhibitions. El's very aware of the fact that she's drunk, but it's also literally liquid courage, so she's going to use it to her advantage. She's just drained her piña colada and slapped the glass back onto the bar when she grabs Mike's arm and tugs him away with her.

"Come dance with me," she says. She doesn't allow him time to respond before she's squeezed them into the mass of writhing people on the dance floor. He's moving along with her, but he's clearly feeling awkward if his erratic movements and half-smile are anything to go by.

"I'm not very good at dancing!" He yells in an attempt to be heard over the thumping bass.

"That's okay!" She yells back, swinging her hips and raising her arms. "Just move with me!" It's kind of funny, El thinks, that she's even doing this at all. Hanging out with Max must have made her develop some kind of outgoing kink (or maybe it's just the alcohol). Whatever it is, El's having a good time. Suddenly, a thought occurs to her. Mike's arms are just hanging limply by his sides, swinging around slightly as he rocks himself from side to side, but she would love to feel his hands on her. So she does the only logical thing: grabs his wrists and puts his hands on her waist.

He looks down at her in surprise but when he sees that she means business he lets his hands rest where they are and presses his fingers into the sliver of skin between her top and her jeans. That sends the best kind of shiver down her spine and Mike must feel it because he sends the most devilish grin her way. He's moving a little more in sync with her now because of where his hands are; he knows which way she's going to move right before she does it. They stay like that for a bit, progressively getting closer to each other until they're practically chest-to-chest and standing between each other's legs, but all of a sudden Mike gets a weird look on his face and rushes off to the restroom. El doesn't want to look like a fool dancing by herself, so she returns to the bar with a scowl. Upon seeing her, Max bursts out laughing.

"Did he leave you out there by yourself?" She asks, watching El order another cocktail.

El slumps against the bar and pouts. "We were having a good time dancing, I don't know why he left!"

The other girl cackles. "Probably went to go rub one out in the restroom!"

"Max!" El reaches out to slap her on the arm. "Don't be gross."

Max smirks. "He's a young man with needs, El! And also insanely attracted to you, I'm probably right."

El sends her a grumpy look and gratefully accepts her drink from the bartender. "Where's Will and Dustin?"

Max shrugs. "Dustin felt sick so he went outside to get some air, and I think Will saw a hot guy somewhere on the dance floor."

"He's gay?"

"Very," Max says. "You ever need guy advice, Will's the one you want. He's not called Will the Wise for nothing."

El takes a sip from her martini and nods thoughtfully as if considering, looking into the crowd. She perks up when she sees a mop of messy hair floating above it, correctly identifying the person as her man of interest. Mike slinks up to the bar and gives El a weak smile.

"Sorry about leaving," he says. "I just... had to use the restroom."

Max scoffs at him. "Sure, like we don't know why."

He throws her a look. "I swear to god, Mayfield. Where's the guys?"

Max rolls her eyes and El stays silent, sipping some more martini. "Dustin's outside getting some air and Will saw a hot guy somewhere."

"Mm," Mike agrees. "I did see some. Michigan's got more hot guys than Indiana ever did, that's for sure."

Max laughs and El looks up at Mike curiously. "You like guys too?"

He nods. "Mostly girls, but every now and then I'll see a really good-looking man and remember that the grass is green on both sides."

El hums before poking him in the arm. "You look like a frog, did you know that?"

Max tries and fails to hold back a snort and Mike looks hurt for a second before regaining composure. "Really?"

"I think so," El says, and giggles. "But I like frogs, they're cute. And! I had to do a project on frogs in second grade and I always liked them. Froggy froggy froggy," she adds, with a poke on each 'froggy'.

All things considered, it's a good night. Dustin doesn't throw up, Will gets the guy's number, and El gets in a few more dances with Max. When they're leaving, Max volunteers to take Dustin home.

"He rooms with Lucas," says Mike knowingly. "She probably won't come back."

He bundles Will and El into his car with him, and the two of them sit in the back gushing about the guy who caught Will's eye the entire way home. After they drop Will off at his place, the first floor of a duplex about two blocks away, El's almost asleep and Mike has to practically drag her out of the car and into their building. He's got an arm hooked around her waist to help her, but that just means his body heat is radiating even further. She kind of wants to latch onto him and curl up like a baby koala on its mother, but she still has enough self-restraint not to.

"El," he says, "El, which floor are you on?"

"Fourteenth," she answers sleepily. "But I don't know where my key is. I wanna sleep."

Mike sighs. "Is it okay if you stay over? Max probably won't be back, so you can take her bed. I don't want to take you upstairs and then have you spend forever looking for your key."

"Okay."

And that's how she ends up spending the night in her crush's apartment. It's a good sleep, but she wakes in the morning with a bad headache and a terrible taste in her mouth. Her whole body hurts. The only good things are that someone's left an aspirin and a glass of water on the bedside table, and that she can smell something cooking.

El takes the pill and then groans when she looks at her phone and sees that it's only nine o'clock. Seems her body clock is still working. She hears steps coming down the hall, deducing that the noise was loud enough to attract the attention of whoever was in the kitchen.

Mike's head pops into the room, a sunny smile attached to his face. "Good morning, sleepyhead!"

"Fuck this shit."

He frowns. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today."

"My hangovers are terrible."

"Are there good hangovers?" He asks with a laugh. "Come on, I'm making breakfast. Hope you like waffles!"

The truth of the matter is that waffles are actually El's favourite food, so she rushes to get herself to the kitchen.

"Waffles are the best food, no contest," she says, watching as Mike takes fresh waffles out of a waffle toaster and puts them on a plate.

"Well, then I hope mine will live up to your expectations," he answers, setting the plate in front of her and turning back to the machine.

He's laid out whipped cream and some other stuff (syrup, M&Ms, and strawberries) on the table, so El puts some of each on her waffles and digs in. They're heavenly. They're fluffy on the inside and crispy on the outside, just the right texture and sweetness. She nearly cries with delight.

Mike seems to pick up on this, because he's sort of smirking when he joins her at the table. "You like?"

"Do I?" El exclaims. "Best waffles I've ever tasted!"

He's smiling as he digs into his own plate of crispy deliciousness. "I'm glad you like them, but if you want really good waffles you should go to Belgium."

"I'm too poor for that," El says around a mouthful. She swallows. "College student, and all? But I'd love to. Where'd you learn to make waffles this good?"

"I used to work at Waffle House in high school. The only reason they didn't fire me before I left was that I was the best damn waffle maker that town ever had."

"But?"

"But what?"

"I sense that there's a but here."

Mike laughs. "But I learned to cook with my mom. My younger sister was too little to cook, my older sister was useless in the kitchen, and my dad is…" He trails off. "Anyway, I liked cooking and I was good help, so my mom sort of took me under her wing and showed me the ropes. I can cook pretty much anything if you give me a recipe, but baking is a whole other ball game," he says, making gestures with his fork.

"Good to know you and Max aren't starving all the time, then," El replies dryly. She's smiling.

Mike squints at her. "You're something, El. Really something."

After that, Mike starts coming into her Starbucks by himself often. Two months go by where there's not a day that she doesn't see him, whether it be at Starbucks by himself and with Max, or in their apartment building. Upon discovering that the three of them live in the same one, Max and Mike have hung out with El a lot more. He also texts her frequently.

Frogge 🐸[4:53 PM]: victreebel.mov

It's a video of Victreebel screeching.

[4:53 PM]: Why do u text me such weird shit

Frogge 🐸[4:53 PM]: I thought it was funny :(

[4:54 PM]: I'm working

Frogge 🐸[4:54 PM]: And I'm impatient

[4:55 PM]: Hi impatient I'm El.

She puts her phone in her pocket just in time to get the finished cup of coffee to the customer, then pulls it back out again.

[4:56 PM]: Come inside for 5 mins dumbass I'm almost done

Within a literal half-second, Mike's standing at the door in all his windswept glory. It's a windy April day outside, most of which El had avoided by arriving at work before the wind picked up. Unfortunately, Mike hasn't been so lucky, coming to meet her as soon as his exam finished. Two days ago, he'd texted her in the middle of the night asking when she was free.

Frogge 🐸[2:34 AM]: Ellie

[2:34 AM]: Mike its 2:34 am

Frogge 🐸[2:34 AM]: You're awake too whats your point

[2:35 AM]: Yes froggy

Frogge 🐸[2:35 AM]: Smh that's so rude

Frogge 🐸[2:35 AM]: When are you free

[2:35 AM]: U have distracted me from my sleep for this

[2:35 AM]: U could've easily asked me in the morning

Frogge 🐸[2:36 AM]: I couldn't sleeeeeeep

[2:36 AM]: Not my fault

Frogge 🐸[2:36 AM]: El please

Frogge 🐸[2:36 AM]: Its important

[2:36 AM]: Wednesday after 5 or Friday after 6:30

[2:37 AM]: Why

Frogge 🐸[2:37 AM]: :DDDDDD

Frogge 🐸[2:37 AM]: You'll see :)

Frogge 🐸[2:37 AM]: Wednesday !

She has no idea what it is that he has planned, but as she removes her barista apron and clocks out, he's bouncing on his feet, a huge smile on his face. "You really look like a frog when you smile like that," she says, reaching up to give him a hug. It's become their customary greeting since he started it a few days after that morning in his apartment, and every time it happens it leaves El happy with a positive, glowing warmth around her. It makes her wonder if kissing him would have the same effect.

"Come on," he answers excitedly, latching onto her hand and pulling her out the door. The wind is blustering but that doesn't stop Mike from tugging El down the street with gusto, only coming to a stop when they reach the Subway near the corner of Packard and S State.

Once inside, El smiles and asks, "Out of one food place and into another?"

Mike waves her off. "Subway is better than Starbucks," he says, leading her to the counter.

"And yet you're in Starbucks almost every day," she retorts.

He rolls his eyes before looking up at the menu. "Yeah, but that's only because you're there."

She doesn't know what to say to that.

They each order a sandwich because, well, it's Subway, and a bag of chips. El doesn't finish hers, so it's more like Mike ends up eating a bag and a half. It's as he's sitting back, patting his stomach, that El finally lets her curiosity get the best of her.

"So why'd you bring me here?"

He grins. "Alright, so here's the thing. I don't know what your plans are for the summer-"

"Don't really have any, besides working," she interrupts.

"Okay, great! That's awesome," he says. "So I'm going to Lisbon for four days and my sister was supposed to come with me, but something important came up at work and she can't go. So-" here he pauses for dramatic effect- "She cancelled her plane ticket and sent me the money 'cause it was my birthday present to her, but since there's reservations for two and I've been saving for a while I didn't want to waste that. I can take someone with me."

El's not sure she knows where he's going with this. Is he really-?

"And I wanted you to come. If you want to?" He asks this in such a hopeful tone, El can't help but want to.

"But- what about Max? Or the others?"

"Max is going home with Lucas for the summer to meet his parents and I haven't asked the others, but I really wanted you to come, El," Mike says softly. "It's fine if you don't want to, I understand."

"No!" She laughs nervously, rushing to fix her mistake. "I'd love to come, I'm sure I can get one week off. I'm just- you really want me to come with you?"

"I really want you to come with me everywhere in general," he jokingly responds. "I think it'll be great. And I mean, they might not have the best waffles, but I hear their food is to die for?"

The week after is a flurry of bookings (a train and plane ticket for El, and booking off work). The two of them will leave Ann Arbor for Chicago on June fourth at seven-twenty AM for their twelve fifty-five flight to Washington D.C., where they'll have a six-and-a-half hour layover before getting on their way overnight to Lisbon. If everything goes to plan, they should be in another country by ten thirty-five AM local time.

El's the most excited she's ever been. Getting to explore a foreign country? Sign her up! She's never left the States before. The only thing she's worried about is not speaking the language, but Mike assures her that they'll be bound to find someone who speaks English. After all, it's not like they'll be in the middle of nowhere; they'll be in a city of millions. And, he adds, tourism is one of Portugal's biggest money-makers, so there's gotta be translators somewhere.

It also gets Max off El's back about telling Mike about her steadily growing feelings. She hasn't attempted anything since the night at the club, letting her slight anxieties get the best of her. He'd seemed into what was happening, and according to Max he likes El a lot, but there is also his weird escape to the restroom and that's what El's brain holds onto. She's afraid that he'll run in the other direction if she so much as tries to hint that she holds anything besides friendly feelings for him, even though she's smart enough to pick up on his blatant affection for her. Max makes El promise that she'll do something about it on their trip.

The group finishes off their school year in relatively high spirits, and Max leaves almost immediately with Lucas. They're going to road trip and sightsee for a few weeks before heading to Lucas' home in Delaware. El, Will, and Mike all have jobs to busy themselves with, but Will is going home to Maine to visit his mom and then New York to visit his brother at the end of the month. Dustin is preparing to take on an internship at a bioengineering company that will hopefully help land him a job when he's finished with his education. When they've got free time they all like to hang out at someone's place and enjoy it, but since Mike and El live merely floors apart they hang out most often. In fact, Mike has taken to falling asleep on El's couch at least once a week, coming up for dinner when he doesn't invite her down instead (he claims he misses Max and doesn't like eating alone).

Eventually, Will has gone off to Maine and the morning of El's first international venture dawns bright and clear. Her bags have been packed for a few days now, all she needs to do is one last clean sweep of her apartment before going downstairs to make sure her travel partner isn't still sleeping. When she knocks, the door swings open and a very dishevelled Mike is standing on the other side. She laughs at the mess of hair on his head, just as she does every other morning she sees him like this, and thinks that it really isn't going to take much longer for her to truly be in love.

"It is six in the fucking morning," he says, pulling her through the door, "and I have just ingested approximately three gallons of caffeine. This is ungodly."

"I'm fairly sure three gallons of straight-up caffeine would make you overdose or something," she responds, leaning against the kitchen table and watching him putter around straightening blankets before streaking down the hall to his room.

"I haven't gotten up this early in years!"

On the train to Chicago (which they have to take because Mike's sister Nancy lives there so it's where the flight is scheduled from), they look out the windows for a bit but mostly sleep. An alarm is set so that they don't end up sleeping through the stop. They make it to O'Hare just in time for check-in and boarding, and then they're on their way to D.C. Once there, they head into the city to have lunch and take a tour of Capitol Hill before switching airports for the red-eye to Lisbon. El is fascinated to see all the buildings where the nation's greatest decisions take place, to stand where thousands have stood during events that made history. Mike's just sort of tagging along, having been to D.C. before, but she thinks he's enjoying himself nonetheless.

The flight is uneventful other than some light turbulence when they're about an hour out from landing, and the fact that Mike falls asleep on her. El's freaking out internally when he lays his head on her shoulder, but continues to watch the movie in front of her as if nothing's happening. It makes her feel warm inside.

As the plane approaches land, El can see the blue, sparkling ocean spread out beneath her and little orange roofs dotting the landscape ahead. "Hey, why are the roofs orange?" She asks, shrugging her shoulder a little bit to get Mike's attention.

He looks out the window, squinting as if that's going to make them hear each other better (their ears have yet to pop). "They're made of tiles instead of shingles, that's just their colour."

"That's cool."

A few moments of silence later, Mike lifts his head off her shoulder and says, "So, you excited?"

"Yeah!" El exclaims. "What are we doing first?"

Mike laughs. "I think we're sleeping, you're gonna want to crash the second you get off this plane."

He's right, of course, if only partially; she doesn't want to sleep the second she gets off, she wants to sleep as soon as the stress of border control and baggage claim are over. She does sleep a bit on the way from the airport to where they're staying, only waking up long enough to get inside and collapse in the first bedroom she comes across.

When El wakes up it's dark out the window, and she sees that it's past midnight when her phone buzzes on the bedside table. She wonders for a moment how she's getting messages if she didn't connect her phone to wifi, but realizes that Mike must have done it. He's her best friend at this point, so he does know her passcode. It's the group chat, so she scrolls to the top to see what they were talking about.

Frogge 🐸[12:34 PM]: hey guys I know it's barely morning for you but just wanted to say we're here

Maxie [1:47 PM]: good flight?

Dustin [2:16 PM]: they're probably both sleeping off the jet lag

Will [3:58 PM]: yeah mike'll probably wake up first, he sleeps on flights doesn't he

Maxie [4:00 PM]: probably

Maxie [4:00 PM]: miCHAEL WAKE THE FUCK UP

Maxie [4:01 PM]: ELEANOR WHERE U AT

Lucas [4:02 PM]: that's a lot of probablys

Dustin [4:07 PM]: they'll be back dw about it

Will [4:10 PM]: yeah don't wake them

Maxie [4:32 PM]: u right if u wake mike too early he'll kill u

Maxie [4:33 PM]: idk about el but since they're a match made in heaven she's probs the same

Will [4:35 PM]: so I'm not the only one seeing it then

Dustin [4:36 PM]: will do u think the rest of us r blind

Maxie [4:36 PM]: ok gotta go me and Lucas are leaving now

Will [4:37 PM]: have fun

Dustin [4:37 PM]: don't die

Frogge 🐸[11:46 PM]: can you guys not

Frogge 🐸[11:47 PM]: yes the flight was good, I fell asleep but el told me it was fine

Frogge 🐸[11:47 PM]: just a little turbulence like an hour before we landed

Will [11:53 PM]: you guys slept literally the entire day?

Frogge 🐸[11:55 PM]: No I woke up in the middle of the afternoon to go pee and then I went to some random store to buy food but I didn't check my phone

Frogge 🐸 [11:56 PM]: idk if el has woken up today but she didn't sleep at all on the plane so probably not

Max [12:01 AM]: why'd u go buy food aren't u in a hotel

Frogge 🐸[12:02 AM]: no we're in this place it's like an apartment and you pay for it like a hotel but it's cheaper Lisbon has a lot of these

Frogge 🐸[12:02 AM]: also if we go grocery shopping it's cheaper than eating out 3 times a day for a week

Lucas [12:03 AM]: so where is she

Frogge 🐸[12:03 AM]: sleeping

Frogge 🐸[12:03 AM]: yeah I think she's still asleep

[12:04 AM]: incorrect I have returned to the world of the conscious

Frogge 🐸[12:04 AM]: great come eat! I saved you some food

Will [12:04 AM]: El: wakes up

Will [12:04 AM]: Mike: 😍

Frogge 🐸[12:05 AM]: shut up will bye

[12:05 AM]: lol I'm coming

El makes her way to the bathroom to freshen up a little before going down the hall, where she finds Mike standing by the open window in the living room area cradling a cup of what appears to be milk.

"Hey," she says, poking him in the back.

He turns around with a smile and hands a second mug to her, also full of milk. "Milk fills you up but also makes you sleepy," he answers.

"Thanks for the fact," El quips in return, taking the cup. She leans out the window to look at the city around them and sips. "Is that a river?"

"Yup. The Tagus."

"Weird name."

Mike laughs quietly and throws his free arm over her shoulder, dark eyes sparkling. "Things usually sound a little better in their native language, but I don't know how to pronounce it properly."

El hums in response. "It looks like a beautiful city, though, I can't wait to explore."

"Then we should probably get some more sleep to wake up early, huh? There's toast on the counter for you if you want it," he says, chugging what's left of his milk before depositing his cup in the sink and going back into the room he's claimed as his.

It's silent for a few moments but for the slight rustle of bedsheets as El drinks the remnants of her milk and Mike settles in. Then: "Night, El!"

She rolls her eyes, but her heart warms and a smile blooms on her face. "Night, Mike."

El wakes up again around nine hours later, feeling fully refreshed but confused. She was awoken by a loud crash, and blinks her eyes open to see her friend lying on the floor in her doorway. "What are you doing?" She yawns.

"Can I just die here?" Mike says. "I fell coming to wake you up."

El can't help but laugh at the mental image that conjures, but it gets so funny that she has to bury her face in her pillow to muffle the giggles.

"It's not that funny, El!"

She feels the mattress sink next to her and immediately flips over to push Mike away when he starts to tickle her. "S-stop!" She shrieks. "I can't breathe!"

"Never!" He tickles her with renewed fervour until she manages to kick him away, at which point he flops down onto the mattress and smiles at her. The sun is coming in through the window and it backlights his hair in a way that makes him look like there's a halo on his head, which El thinks is appropriate because he is the closest a human can get to an angel. She smiles back.

"So what's on the agenda for today?"

That first day is spent lounging by the river for a while and taking pictures, followed by walking around the downtown streets. Some of them are wide and full of shops and people, and others are narrow, steep hills that look like they'd be impossible to navigate by car. What do pass are these little things that look like three-wheeled mopeds with bench seats and a roof, and they roar up and down the busy streets at what looks like should be an impossible speed for the incline of the roads. Mike tells her they're a tourist thing, so who knows, they might end up in one too.

The night ends with dinner in a nearby restaurant, which serves not quite the best food El's ever had (after all, homemade always has that touch of… something that makes it special) but it is a good dining experience. Mike was right, all of the people they've interacted with have been able to speak English or direct them to someone who does, so they're able to enjoy the meal without having to worry about misunderstandings. In all, El's first day out of the United States is a dashing success.

The second day begins with a shower straight out of bed, after which El realizes that she's the only one awake, so she dresses and makes herself breakfast. She's sitting at the table reading a tourist magazine and sipping coffee when her travel companion stumbles into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and with quite the bedhead.

She grins. "Top of the morning to you, Mr. Rat's Nest," she greets him.

Mike blinks at her. "What?"

El feels like her smile is going to break her face. She could get used to seeing him like this every morning. He looks more like a boy than the young man he is, and less stressed too. What a sight. She could just combust from looking at him and she'd be happy about it.

"Your hair," she answers, gesturing to his head, where his hand follows and settles in the nest as if to confirm that his hair is indeed as much of a mess as she's making it out to be.

Mike glares half-heartedly. "I'll thank you to leave me and my hair alone. I haven't fixed it."

"Whatever you say," she replies, smirking back into her mug.

He putters around the kitchen for a few moments before suddenly whipping around. "Is that black?"

El raises her brows. "Straight," she says, slurping obnoxiously.

"I can't believe my- you drink black coffee?" Mike interrupts himself before he finishes his sentence, but it's already kind of too late.

"Your what?"

He looks away. "Nothing." He turns back to the fridge, taking milk out of it and pouring it into a mug. El's still watching when he shakes his head and mutters, "Black coffee."

"I'll thank you to leave me and my black coffee alone," she retorts, but she's smiling again. It's almost impossible how happy this man makes her.

A few minutes later, when Mike is sitting across from her with his toast and drink (it's honestly more milk than coffee but since it is a mix, she guesses it could be considered a latte), El speaks again. "My dad used to drink his coffee black."

"He used to?"

"Yeah, I-" She falters.

Mike reaches out for her hand and cups his around hers on the mug. "You don't have to talk about it."

"No, I-" She shakes her head quickly. She will tell him. "My mom was a drug addict and she died when I was born."

Mike's grip on her hand tightens and El's grateful for it. He's always been a reassuring presence. "I'm so sorry."

"It's- fine, really, I- anyway." She clears her throat. "My mom died giving birth to me and no one knew who my dad was. But I was adopted as a baby, by a man who had lost his daughter a few years before. He's the one I grew up with. His name was Jim. Jim Hopper."

El's feeling the tears build up and she's thinking that maybe she should stop talking, but she also thinks that this is something Mike should know about her before anything else happens. "He was a cop. But he was such a loving person. He took care of me, he gave me room to grow, he played with me, he taught me, he loved me." At that she lets the tears flow. Where did the joy of five minutes ago disappear to? It never hurts any less when she thinks about him, it just gets easier to deal with. She can still see his smiling face and hear his laugh, and it pulls a hiccupy sob out of her.

"What happened to him?" Mike asks softly.

"One night, when I was thirteen, he was called out on emergency," she says, looking at their joined hands on the mug in front of her. "And he never came back. He was killed on the job."

Mike doesn't say anything, but she meets his eyes and sees something in them that warms her. It's this moment, the most vulnerable she's ever been in front of him, that makes her realize: she's not falling, she's already fallen.

El looks away. "After that, well. I got put in the system. But nobody wants to adopt a teenager, so I just got bumped around from foster home to foster home until I was eighteen. Then I was left to fend for myself," she laughs. "Good thing I turned eighteen in the summer, otherwise I probably would've had to drop out of high school and work."

"So you're older than me?" Mike asks.

El rolls her eyes and sniffs. "I just spilled my entire life story to you and that's what you ask?"

Mike smiles, and it squeezes her heart in a good way. "Well, it's not like you're a criminal or something. It could be worse if you did illegal shit. But I'm sorry that happened to you."

El looks back into her cup of coffee, the catalyst of this entire conversation. "Well, yeah. He never would've allowed me to drink coffee a way other than black, so that's how I take it. It reminds me of him."

When they're on their way out the door to another day of adventure, Mike stops her and pulls her into a tight hug. He looks directly into her eyes when he pulls away. "If you ever need something, I'm always here for you."

She nods. "Thank you."

Everything is going well until they make a turn down some side street that was supposed to be a shortcut and end up getting lost.

"Mike," El pleads for the fifth time, "Let's just ask someone for help?"

"No," he answers, "I've got this. Just a second." He's still looking at the map they were using to try and get to the castle. The two of them were on their way to Castelo de São Jorge, the castle on top of a hill from which you could get "wicked views of the city and river", but unfortunately they'd gotten turned around in the maze of windy cobblestone alleys and had no idea where they were. Neither of them had gotten a roaming plan either, so using a GPS is out of the question unless they want to pay a hefty sum at the end of the month.

El huffs impatiently. "You've been saying that for the last ten minutes!" She throws her arms up in exasperation and walks back down to the nearest corner, leaving Mike squinting at the map uselessly in the hopes that she'll find someone to help.

She stands on the corner and waits for someone to walk by, finding a target within a few minutes. It's a woman who looks like she might be around El's age or older, with wavy, long brown hair and striking green eyes that El notices from feet away. She's carrying some shopping bags and walking down the street with a wide smile on her face. She looks approachable, but El's having a hard time screwing up the courage to talk to her.

Luckily, the woman seems to notice El's slight distress and stops in front of her.

"Español?" She asks.

El shakes her head. "English?"

The woman smiles again. "Are you lost?"

El's relief is great. The woman speaks perfect English, so El doesn't have to stand there and make a fool of herself trying to be understood.

"Oh thank god," she breathes. "Yes. My friend and I are trying to get to the castle but we got lost and he's still looking at the map."

"Men," the woman says, shaking her head ruefully. "I can take you there, if you want. My name's Sabrina."

El smiles shyly. "I'm El."

"Alright, El," says Sabrina, hefting her bags. "I'm going to leave these at home real quick and I'll meet you here in a few minutes, it's just down the street."

She starts walking in the direction she was originally going and vanishes around a corner. El's a little worried that it was a mean joke and Sabrina's not going to come back at all, but she turns around and calls Mike anyway.

"Hey!" She yells, cupping her hands around her mouth. Mike's head jerks up from the map he is still looking at. "I found someone to help us!"

He starts jogging down the street and joins her on the corner in a few moments.

"Where are they?" He asks, furrowing his brows.

"She had some shopping bags so she went to leave them at home, but she said she'd meet us here soon."

"Okay, cool. She speak English?"

El nods. "Perfectly. Sounds just like us."

A few minutes later, El sees Sabrina coming back in their direction. "There she is!"

Mike squints. "You sure she's not going to kidnap us?"

El elbows him. "Be grateful. We're lost because of you, smart one."

Mike rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything else as Sabrina walks up to them.

"Hey!" She greets. "I'm assuming you're El's friend? I'm Sabrina."

"Mike," Mike answers, shaking the hand Sabrina extends. "Heard you could help us get to the castle?"

"Glad to help!" Sabrina leads them down to the end of the street they had been on, makes a left, and keeps walking.

"So," says Mike curiously, "not to be offensive or anything, but how come you speak English so well? We haven't met anyone here who speaks like you do."

Sabrina waves a hand and makes a right. "It's not offensive, don't worry about it. I was actually born and grew up in Canada, but my parents moved back when I was eighteen so I moved too. I decided to live down here instead of up north with them."

El nods along, trying to pay attention to where they're turning so that they can find their way back later.

"It's a very pretty city, from what we've seen," she says.

Sabrina smiles. "There's just something here, right? Porto is very nice too but I love Lisbon."

A few minutes of mindless chatter later, after they've made another right and then two lefts and one more right, Sabrina pauses and asks, "So you guys are Americans, right?"

El laughs. "Are we really that obvious?"

Sabrina shakes her head. "I knew it! There's something about you. Also, I tend to meet more American tourists than Canadians."

"We're from Michigan," adds Mike. "I was supposed to be here with my sister, actually, but she cancelled last minute and El agreed to come instead, lucky for me."

"You don't have to sound so unhappy about it, you ass," El says, poking him in the side.

"Maybe I don't really like you, ever think of that?" He answers, then sticks his tongue out her. It's such a childish action that El doesn't even know how to react, so she just shakes her head and walks faster.

Sabrina looks like she's about to laugh at them, but instead she opts for asking, "Are you sure you guys are friends?"

El can sense the underlying secondary question that she knows the other woman is not going to ask, and she wonders herself what the answer to that is.

Mike, however, either ignores it or doesn't notice at all, as he throws an arm over El's shoulders and pulls her close. "Nah, I love her. El's the best."

Her heart skips several beats at his words, but she ignores it for the time being. She's been dealing with this for months at this point, she's a pro at pretending Mike doesn't make her feel like she's going to float away at any second.

Sabrina just smirks knowingly and stops walking at the bottom of a steep hill a moment later. "Okay," she says, "You can see the walls from here. Just go up this hill and you'll find your way. It was nice meeting you guys, enjoy your trip!"

Both of them say their thank yous and watch as Sabrina walks away and vanishes around a corner back the way she came.

"She was nice," remarks Mike, shielding his eyes against the sun as he looks up.

"Good thing I talked to her, otherwise we'd probably still be lost."

"Oh, come on!"

They're almost at the top of the hill when El falls. She's slightly behind Mike and gets so distracted by the shape of his shoulders that she doesn't see a cobblestone sticking slightly out from the rest. She lands with a loud thump and sees Mike whip around.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asks concernedly, reaching down to help her up.

El grips his hand firmly, the warmth from it bleeding into her and causing her face to flush as she stands. She hopes that if Mike notices, he chalks it up to the outside temperature.

But then he doesn't let go. And El isn't about to either, so…

They end up walking around looking for the ticket booth while holding hands. El's pretty sure it's the sweatiest her hand has ever been, which is gross, but it's so nice to hold Mike's hand that she's not even really thinking about it. They only separate to have an argument about who's paying for the tickets (which El wins by stating that she will not speak to Mike for the rest of the trip if he doesn't let her take care of it) and then gravitate tentatively back together as they enter into the castle grounds.

There are a ton of tourists inside, but Mike and El join a group being led by a guide who explains the history of the castle and surrounding area. It's quite interesting, especially for people like both Mike and El who think of themselves as low-key history buffs (they've watched a lot of documentaries on the History Channel together, sue them).

Afterward, they walk around on their own, taking pictures of the skyline and the river. They take pictures of each other, then get a random group of German tourists to take ones of them together, and it's just a good morning all around.

Back at the apartment for lunch, Mike cooks a delicious pot of farfalle with Alfredo sauce, which he takes a picture of and posts on his Instagram story. A few minutes later, El gets a notification.

m_mayfield sent you mwheels' story.

m_mayfield: HE NEVER COOKS THIS NICE FOR ME

m_mayfield: EL COME GET UR MANS LMAOOO

lhppr: I'm literally with him

lhppr: He is in front of me right now

lhppr: Watching me message u with a very suspicious face

m_mayfield: tell him I said he's stupid

"Max said you're stupid," El says noncommittally.

Mike rolls his eyes as he sets down their plates. "Tell her I love her too."

lhppr: He said he loves u too

m_mayfield: atta boy :)

m_mayfield: so u guys fuck yet

lhppr: Omg Max

lhppr: No why the hell

lhppr: I feel like u would find out from him first anyway jesus

lhppr: We held hands today tho it was so nice! He has nice hands!!!!!!!!!!!!

m_mayfield: ( ͡°👅 ͡°)

lhppr: DO NOT

lhppr: WE ARE ABOUT TO EAT I AM ABORTING THIS CONVERSATION GOODBYE

El slips her phone into her pocket and ignores the buzzes as she digs into her plate of pasta.

"So what did Max want?" Mike asks, stabbing the pasta onto the fork and bringing it to his mouth.

El gets distracted by his lips for a second (wow those are also… really nice…) but shakes herself out of it before he notices. She smiles. "Nothing, she just sent me your story and told me that you never cook this nice for her."

Mike swallows his food, then scoffs. "I have cooked whole roast chickens for her. That liar."

"Whole roast chickens?"

"And potatoes, and rice."

"Sounds nice."

He nods. "It's her favourite food, so whenever she needs a pick-me-up."

And ugh, Mike is just too sweet for his own good. El can all too easily imagine him taking the time to cook something special for his friends to cheer them up, and when she imagines him doing it for her it makes her want to kiss him more than usual.

For the afternoon, Mike and El decide to go on one of those little three-wheeled things and take a tour around the city. The drivers know all the cool spots, after all. Theirs takes them on a two-hour tour, stopping at a bunch of churches to explain their history (the interior of one is made entirely of gold, apparently) as well as lookout points and other important buildings. They're able to get off at some locations to take pictures, which is also really great. El's phone's camera roll is quickly becoming filled.

At the end, the driver leaves them back where they started, but it's too early for dinner, so Mike suggests they go souvenir shopping. Lord knows Max would kill them if they dared to go home without souvenirs for her.

"Hey," says El, scrutinizing the window display in front of them, "Do you think Dustin would want a duck?"

"Dustin would go for a duck."

For Dustin, El and Mike buy a bright green rubber duck. It has #LisbonDuckStore printed on the side. Will's getting a specialty jar of Nutella, which El buys another jar of for herself because waffles. Lucas gets a tiny pair of novelty binoculars, but Max is harder to shop for. For her, they end up buying name keychains that have a little Lisboa charm hanging from the end. There's no Max, so El buys a Maria and Mike gets an Xavier, and then they mix up the letters on one chain to spell her name.

The pair heads back to the apartment for dinner, then go for a walk along the riverside as it's getting dark. El's trying not to think too much about the fact that Mike keeps glancing at her. He looks nervous and she doesn't really want to consider why that might be.

But then… she hears a sharp intake of breath and feels his hand fumble against hers, so she takes the plunge and laces their fingers, heart in her throat. She doesn't look at him for a few seconds, just to gauge what's going on, but when she does she's faced with an adorable sight. He's looking at their hands and smiling, the tips of his ears pink and the same pinkness spreading across the apples of his cheeks.

Neither of them says anything for a few minutes, just walking and enjoying the bubbly feeling between them that El knows she isn't imagining. Mike starts swinging their joined hands lightly before he breaks the silence.

"So, I have something embarrassing to tell you," he starts.

El's intrigued. "What?"

"You were in Doddmann's classics lecture last year," Mike says, now blushing deeply.

"I know."

"So was I."

"I know."

"You know?"

"Max told me."

At this, he blanches. "Um, well… basically, I had a huge crush on you. And I didn't even know you yet, so that's embarrassing."

El already knew this months ago, thanks to Max, and she tells him as much. "I just wasn't expecting to actually hear it from you," she adds.

Mike's avoiding her gaze now, looking at the river beside them instead. "You didn't think it was weird? That I was weird?"

El laughs. "Let me tell you something embarrassing. I thought you and Max were a thing."

"Are you serious? Ew!" Mike exclaims. "I would never. She would never."

"Well, I didn't know any better!" El defends. "It was a good excuse not to talk to you."

Mike quirks an eyebrow curiously. "Why didn't you want to talk to me?"

"You make me nervous."

"…I make you nervous. Me. The human stick man."

El sighs. "Not so much anymore now that we've gotten to know each other, but you used to. I felt like I was about to fly through the ceiling every time you came to order. Know why? I was crushing on you too, hugely and stupidly. I didn't even know you."

Mike's beautiful smile returns. "Guess we're just a couple of idiots, huh?"

El feels like her face might break. "Guess so."

They walk along silently observing others on the sidewalk for a little more before Mike speaks again. "Bet you're wondering why I told you that, right?"

She was, but she wasn't going to say it. "Yeah, I guess."

"Well," says Mike dramatically, "If it wasn't already obvious, I still like you. A lot more now, actually. If this keeps going at the rate it's going then I'm about to fall in love with you."

El doesn't respond for a moment and she swears she can hear him swallow.

"Was that too much?" He asks, and she can hear the nervousness in his voice back in full force. "It's totally cool if you don't feel the same way, I just thought… you know… you should know."

She now has two options: either confess now or do it later in private, but she kind of doesn't want to wait. The sun is almost gone over the horizon, bathing the sky in brilliant reds and oranges, and it's warm and their walk has been so indescribably good that El just-

She has to stand on tiptoe to reach him, but she pulls Mike's head down by the back of his neck and kisses him.

Later, the group chat blows up.

Maxie [9:37 PM]: HWAT THE FUKC IS THIS

Maxie [9:37 PM]: IMG.294

Maxie [9:37 PM]: IS THIS REAL LIFE?

Dustin [9:38 PM]: or is this just fantasy…

Maxie [9:38 PM]: DUSTIN I DO NOT NEED U TO QUOTE QUEEN LYRICS AT ME I NEED AN EXPLANTAIAN

Maxie [9:38 PM]: ELEANOR HOPPER U EXPLAIN UR RECENT RIGHT TEH FKUC NOW

El had posted a picture she'd taken with Mike by the river after their unexpected confessional. He had his arm around her shoulders as he took the photo and she had hidden her face against his chest out of embarrassment, but she ended up liking the picture so much that she posted it to her Instagram captioned simply with a heart. Max had sent a screenshot of it to the group and also left multiple scandalized comments on the post itself.

Maxie [9:39 PM]: MICHAEL EXPLAIN THIS

Maxie [9:39 PM]: I WILL TELL UR MOTHER

The two of them are watching Max's messages come in on El's phone and at this, El starts laughing as Mike whips out his own phone to start typing furiously.

Frogge 🐸[9:40 PM]: DONT TELL MY MOM

Frogge 🐸[9:40 PM]: ID LIKE TO HAVE A GIRLFRIEND IN PEACE FOR A LITTLE BEFORE SHE FINDS OUT

Maxie [9:40 PM]: OH SO SHES UR GIRLFRIEND NOW???????????

Maxie [9:40 PM]: ( ✧≖ ͜ʖ≖)

Will [9:41 PM]: but are you really surprised tho?

Will [9:41 PM]: idk about you guys but I was expecting this

Dustin [9:42 PM]: ✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ *( ͡˘̴  ʖ̫ ͡˘̴ )* ･ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

[9:42 PM]: love how Lucas is just absent

Will [9:42 PM]: he doesn't like chaos

Lucas [9:43 PM]: max was legit screaming my ear off sorry I was too busy recovering to answer

Lucas [9:43 PM]: but I'm happy for you guys

[9:43 PM]: we're happy too ty Lucas :)

After she sends that message, El looks away from her phone to find Mike looking at her with a warmth in his gaze that she's certain now is meant for her, and although their romance has only just begun, El feels deep inside herself that it's going to last a long time.

El looks up as the door opens, and there they are again. Max and Mike pushing each other through the entry and glaring, but now they smile when they see her behind the counter. Max waves and calls hello before making her way to a table, while Mike comes straight up to the register. El cashes him in and then starts making the coffees, all the while grinning because she can see her boyfriend watching her with that sappy smile of his in the reflection on the espresso machine.

"Iced coffee with milk and a chai latte?" She says, turning to hand the two drinks over.

Mike's floppy hair swings a little as he leans forward to give El the flightiest of kisses. "Thank you," he answers, picking up the cups. "We still on for later?"

El's smile doesn't falter. "Definitely."

"Great!" Mike starts to walk away toward Max, but then thinks better of it and retreats back to El for a second longer. He stands at the counter shuffling his feet until El boops his nose.

"What do you want, silly?"

He hesitates before saying, "I love you. I don't know why I'm still nervous, it's not like it's the first time I've said that."

El rolls her eyes. "I love you too. Now go bother Max, I'm working."

Mike gasps dramatically. "Why doth my fair lady rebuke me!"

"Shoo!"

He goes away. El watches the pair for a bit, just like she used to, but she isn't jealous anymore. She's happy.

[yutasbirthchin]

Hero - Epilogue

Group: Seventeen Member: Vernon Word Count: 2889 Genre: angst/fluff/tear jerking/idk

Prologue/Chapter1/Chapter2/Chapter3/Chapter4/Chapter5/Chapter6

a/n: Sorry it’s been like a month since the last update, I’ve had the worst case of writers block when it came to finishing this, I literally have like 4 other one shots brainstormed and half written that I wrote in the mean time because I really just couldn’t get this chapter right. But here it is finally! The last instalment! Thank y’all for sticking around and reading this whole story. Feel free to drop me an ask and share your opinions  :) 

“Here, Oppa, here! Isn’t it so pretty? It looks like it will serve the best coffee ever!”

Vernon’s eyes scanned the coffee shop. “It’s definitely…err…unique.”

“It’s unique, it stands out, that’s what all businesses should do, stand out from the crowd.”

“Can’t we just go to Starbucks?” He asked, really not trusting the pastel pink shop with ‘Sweet Treats’ printed along the top, it’s shop front decorated with hearts, polka dots and every other ‘cute’ thing under the sun.

“Is it so cute that it’s going to impede on your masculinity?” She fired back. “There’s nothing wrong with cute things.”

“I don’t have a problem with cute things, you’re cute and I tolerate you. But that shop… just for a coffee? I don’t know.”

She smiled. “Oh come on, I let you drag me into boring shops you want to go in. Besides, it’s our first time in America in ages, live a little.”

Before he could respond his she bounded into the shop. He looked longingly at the Starbucks across the road before following her in.

“Hello!” A very cheery man came rushing forward from behind the counter. “I’m Cole, thank you for visiting my lovely little abode, please have a seat.”

“I loooove your shop!” His companion squealed as he took a seat opposite her. “Who designed it?”

“That would be me, my father handed the shop down to me. He certainly was not pleased by my colour scheme or my decorating, he thinks it will drive customers away but I disagree. I mean, if it attracted a gorgeous girl such as yourself, it must be doing well!” He answered back with a wink. Vernon’s blood boiled as he stared at the shop manager, he was too flirtatious for his liking.

The two placed their orders and the man skipped behind the counter, presumably to start making their coffee.

“So where are you guys from?” Cole asked as he placed their drinks and food down.

“We’re from a little town in Korea.” The cute little girl answered. Cole glanced at the guy who didn’t seem to be in the brightest of moods.

“You’re a long way from home then, what brings you here?”

“We have family in America so we came to visit them, glad I did, there aren’t any gems like this where we live, right bro?” Vernon only nodded in response.

Cole laughed in response. “Thank you.” There was something oddly familiar about him, but the ringing of the bell signalling new customers dragged his thoughts away. “Give us a shout if you need anything.” He said with a wink before twisting on his heel.

Vernon couldn’t deny the coffee was good, and the pastries were the best he’d had in a long time. Sophia could tell this just by looking at him, she knew her brother well. “Still wanna go to Starbucks?” She teased.

“Oh shush.”

“This is why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.”

“That saying is overused.”

She smiled as she put the phone down. She’d never mentioned to Vernon where exactly in America she had ended up, not because she didn’t want him to know but because she didn’t see the point, he wasn’t in America… Except now he was. She of course wanted to tell him, she wanted to be able to see him again, to hold him, but she was also scared. What if somehow he’d changed? What if she’d changed so much he didn’t like her anymore? There were so many possibilities. Now he was actually in America she felt bad. She knew he had come to visit relatives, not her, but the fact that he didn’t know where she was made her worry. America isn’t a small country, what if they happened to be on complete opposite sides and wouldn’t be able to even meet once? It would be too disappointing for her to handle.

She looked back at her half-finished essay and scowled. Back to work I guess.

The small cafe had suddenly become fairly busy around 1pm, with only a few empty tables and a queue forming at the counter. When it got this busy, Cole didn’t bother seating customers and taking their orders from the tables, he let them come up to the counter as it was more efficient that way. It did, however, mean that there had to be at least two people serving the counter, and so Youngjin sighed making her way out front. She didn’t mind the job, she actually enjoyed herself. Sure, since Cole had taken over the décor had changed to one she had a love hate relationship with, but the job was just the same and she earned a decent wage to get by whilst in college. What she didn’t like, though, were the times in which she had so much school work to do that she had to bring her laptop into work and write essays when she wasn’t busy. It was too stressful.

When the end of her shift finally came she sat behind her laptop, typing furiously.

“Babe, you know you can’t claim overtime just because you’re still here, right?” Cole joked.

“I know, I just have to finish this paragraph and then I’ll be off.”

“You got any plans tonight? Anything fun?” He asked.

“Yes I have a lovely little date planned with my laptop.” She replied and Cole chuckled.

“I could never be a student, don’t know how on earth you survive. I mean, you rarely ever go out and party and never leave anything last minute yet somehow you’re still always bogged down with work. You need to live a little, we’ve got to get you a boyfriend.”

“I’m always busier because I was dumb enough to take extra classes.” She answered and Cole shook his head.

“You’re really hung up on that guy, aren’t you?”

For the first time since the conversation started, Youngjin looked up from her laptop. “What do you mean?”

“You completely glossed over the last sentence I said, so either you zoned out or ignored it, and judging by your desktop image, I’d guess the latter.” Youngjin acknowledged what he said, but chose not to reply. “Who is he? Your ex? From Korea?” It was a simple answer but for some reason she felt oddly defensive, as though Cole was slowly cracking her open so he could judge her.

The last few years had been tough for her, it’s not easy to forget a past you so desperately want to forget when there’s an aspect of it that you keep so dear to your heart. Vernon. She loved him, she knew she did. And she hadn’t let him go, they still messaged each other almost everyday, but she found it hard to talk about him to other people because it dug up elements of her past that she didn’t want to dig up. People were nosey and wouldn’t be satisfied with a ‘he’s my best friend that I’ve known since we were children’, and she was terrified that she would accidentally let something slip.

After she still hadn’t replied Cole sighed, realising that he had probably overstepped a boundary. “Forget it, babe. I’m sorry.” He didn’t wait for a reply before heading out.

Youngjin sighed and forced the thoughts away, she needed to finish this paragraph before she lost her flow. She was intent on finishing her essay that night. Especially as she had to cover her coworkers shift the next day.

“Hello, hello, annyeonghaseyo.” Cole greeted Vernon and Sophia as they walked in the next morning.

“Good morning!” Sophia beamed. “How did you learn to pronounce that so well?” She asked, pleased that he had remembered they were Korean. Vernon couldn’t really fault him on his customer service.

“Ah, we have a Korean girl who works here and I bugged her until she taught me something. She only taught me hello though, so I can’t converse any further.” He replied.

“How can she only teach you one thing!?”

“She’s not the most talkative, keeps to herself a lot, to be honest I’m surprised she even taught me that.” Cole replied with a laugh. “She’s also almost always doing college work. But anyways, what would you two like this morning?”

When Cole came back with their orders he watched Vernon carefully, he really couldn’t work out what about him was familiar. Vernon, sensing the eyes on him, looked up and narrowed his eyes at the barista. “Why are you staring at me?”

Cole, obviously not realising he had been staring, felt embarrassed. “Oh! No, I uhh.. You just look familiar, really familiar and I don’t know why.” Vernon was confused, he definitely had not seen Cole before this trip and couldn’t think where he could possibly know him from.

“Leonardo DiCaprio! He looks like Leonardo DiCaprio!” Sophia burst out, causing her brother to hide his face in embarrassment.

“Sophia, please.” He whined but the other two just laughed.

“You really do look familiar though, are you sure you haven’t been around here before?”

Vernon shook his head. “No, I really haven-” he was cut off by the sound of the door opening and Cole exclaiming.

“Holy shit.”

“What?” The three other people in the cafe questioned.

Youngjin stared at Cole confused, waiting for an explanation but he stayed silent, not knowing what to say. He’d worked out why the boy looked so familiar, but didn’t know whether or not this would go well, considering Youngjin never wanted to talk about him.

Vernon, who was the only person who couldn’t see the girl who’d just entered, turned in his seat to see if he could work out what was going on. His eyes widened as they locked with those of his old friends.

“Youn- ah shit.” He said as he proceeded to drop his coffee, pouring it all over himself. This seemed to shatter the illusion and everyone jumped to help him clean himself up.

Cole watched the two as Youngjin mopped up the floor and Vernon attempted to clean himself up with the help of his sister. There was no denying that this was the guy pictured as Youngjin’s desktop image, but their interactions weren’t giving anything away. He sighed, deciding to dig; he might get an actual answer seeing as Vernon was there. “So, do I finally get to know what the story is with you two?” He prompted.

Vernon looked up at Cole, clearly confused. “How did you know we know each other?”

“Probably your dramatic scene.” Youngjin teased, gesturing to the area of the floor she had just finished mopping.

“Hey, it was an accident! Who said it had anything to do with you?”

“Wait, you two know each other? How?” Sophia asked.

“Well, if they don’t know each other, Youngjin definitely has some explaining to do. It’s not common to have random strangers as your desktop image.” Cole said and Youngjin’s cheeks immediately flushed.

Vernon looked at her, amused. “I’m your desktop image?”

“Cole! Why woul-”

“Did you miss me that much, Youngjin? So cute!” Vernon teased.

“I swear I could kil-” Youngjin started but stopped herself. “I’m not the one who tried searching for you for ten years because I missed you!” She shot back, and this time Vernon’s cheeks flushed.

“Ten years? Wait! Is this the same noona you had a crush on from elementary school?” Sophia asked, clearly not worried about embarrassing her older brother. Youngjin didn’t say anything, but looked at Vernon with an eyebrow raised.

As embarrassed as he was right now, Vernon wouldn’t change a thing… Well, maybe he would change the coffee stain down his shirt, but other than that he wouldn’t change a thing. He’d noticed a slight change in his best friend over the last two years, but this was the first time seeing the new confident, sassy Youngjin in person and he loved it. He turned to Cole. “We’ve been best friends for nearly thirteen years.”

“Friends, huh?” Cole questioned with an eyebrow raised. “How friendly are we talking?”

Youngjin chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Why ask if the answer is blatantly obvious?” She was about to continue when Sophia spoke instead, sending a cold chill down her spine.

“I thought her name was Younghee or something?”

Vernon watched the panic set in on his Noona’s face. “Younghee, Youngjin.” He said, surprising himself with how quickly and naturally the lie came. “I got the names confused.”

“Wow, you guys made it sound like you had some really cute hidden love story but it turns out he couldn’t even remember your name.” Cole laughed.

“In my defence I hadn’t seen her in ten years, and I was only seven when I last saw her.” Vernon replied.

“I’m sorry about Sophia.” Vernon said breaking their silence.

Youngjin rested her head on Vernon’s shoulder and looked out across the lake. “Thank you, you saved me back there.”

He reached for her hand, gripping it in his. “You shouldn’t worry yourself so much.”

“But that’s literally my biggest fear. If someone asks about me and I give too much away, or they get suspicions, or I can’t answer a question because I don’t want to give anything away, or-”

Vernon pulled back from her slightly, forcing her to sit up and look at him. “I think you’re doing more damage to yourself worrying about it than you would actually do if you just let it go and spoke freely. You don’t even really have to lie. Why can you speak so many languages? Because you had a lot of free time when you were younger and you got bored. Why did you have so much free time? Because your dad was really protective over you and didn’t trust the world… And because you dropped out of school after you dad died. How are you so good at martial arts? Your dad taught you. Why did you move to America? Because you wanted a fresh start and to get away from the bad memories you had in Korea. It’s really not as hard as you think it is.”

“But what if they ask me about Younghee or Ong?”

“There’s no reason for them to ask about that. Also, you’re in America, no one here would even know about that story. There’s nothing linking you to them.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You’re the link, what if they ask about you?”

“I’m your childhood friend, we’ve known each other for ages, et cetera et cetera.”

“Am I really just overthinking everything?”

“Yeah.” He replied, bringing his free hand up to her cheek and cupping it. “I get it, you just want to live your life and you’re worried about your past, but there’s literally no reason for anyone to probe so far that they find anything out. Stop letting your past rule your life.”

Youngjin stayed silent for a minute, staring off into space, but then she laughed to herself before meeting his eyes again. “I’m your Noona but why does it always feel like you’re the older one?”

“Jinnie I literally spilt my coffee all over me when I saw you.” He said with a laugh. “I can talk you out of your worries but I’m definitely no more mature or composed as you.”

She blushed at the nickname, hearing it for the first time in person. And then she surprised herself. “I love you, Vernon.”

Now it was his turn to blush, as she had well and truly caught him off guard. He couldn’t have controlled the smile that appeared on his face if he tried.

Vernon leant forward and pressed his lips against hers in a sweet gentle kiss. They both jumped at the loud bang and turned to look across the lake at the firework that had just interrupted them.

“And here I was thinking the whole firework thing was just an expression.” Youngjin joked. “Why are they even letting of fireworks? It’s not the 4th of July.”

Vernon watched the way the light from the fireworks shone against Youngjin’s face and smiled to himself. “I love you too.” He said, drawing her attention back to him before he kissed her again.

“Hey, Vernon?” Youngjin started as they pulled away.

“Yeah?”

“I really wish you didn’t have to go back to Korea.” She said, a slight frown playing on her features. Vernon smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as he turned to face the lake once again. Youngjin narrowed her eyes at him. “What?”

“You really love me that much, huh?” He teased.

“Oh come on, don’t tease me! I’m actually sad thinking about you leaving.”

“It’s only fair isn’t it? You left me twice.”

“I take it back, I don’t love you, I hate you.”

Vernon let out a loud laugh. “You can’t lie to me, Jinnie.” He laughed louder when he looked at the expression on her face. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

“Then how much longer are you here for, Vernon?”

“Well, Sophia and my parents are flying back next Sunday.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You aren’t going with them?”

He shook his head in response. “This was a goodbye trip.”

“What do you mean?”

“You dummy.” He laughed as he pressed a light kiss to her forehead. “I only brought a one way ticket.”

[olicitysmoaky]

Tinseltown (PART 2/8)

(Read on AO3)

Oliver reluctantly extracted himself from Felicity's arms and let his eyes sweep over her form. Her dress clung to curves he remembered at the same time felt as if he had absolutely no acquaintance with at all. She was every bit the beautiful girl he’d fallen for that summer but so much more of a woman. His tongue actually grew heavier in this mouth. That was a thing that happened apparently. And his senses tingled with familiarity and newness. And did he mention that she smelled damned good.

"Oliver... I... I can't believe it,” she said, nibbling a bit on the impossibly red lower lip.

"Neither can I, Felicity." He grinned so wide, he felt his cheeks sting.

"An agent? Impressive,” she said, tilting her head.

"I think all the wows going around in this room should be directed toward you. You look amazing, Felicity."

Felicity blushed, causing Oliver’s heart to flutter a bit at the sight of it.  "The room is dripping with supermodels and movie stars."

"Still can't take a compliment?" he asked, his voice was soft as he stepped closer to her again. He heard her breath hitch. He told himself to hold back, to not touch her, but her skin looked so inviting. Her blue eyes searched his. “Felicity…” He tipped her chin up with a gentle finger.

"Uh, Felicity?” someone said behind her. But Oliver didn’t feel like bothering to turn around to see who it was. “Felicity?” the irritating intruder said again before invading her space and tapping her on the shoulder. Felicity whipped around, breaking their little spell to look at Chad Michaelson, a guy who played on some show on TNT now that his soap career had fizzled out. He was one of those model types that came from Iowa and made it halfway as soon as he stepped off the bus. No talent. Not a client Oliver would never take on.

“Michaelson,” Oliver said, acknowledging the man. He was dating one of his clients but Oliver knew that relationships lasted as long as a custom car wash around this town. Still, he didn’t think the guy was right for his Felicity. What was he saying? She wasn’t his anything. She really never been, had she? It had just been one summer. One summer he’d thought he’d fallen so hard he might not ever be able to get up again.

“Queen,” the pseudo-celebrity man-child said, puffing out his chest. Oliver had two inches on him easy. But he wasn’t about to turn this into peeing contest – the Felicity he’d known would never have gone for that.

“I'm sorry, Chad,” said Felicity. “I didn’t mean to ignore you, but I see you two already know each other.”

“Yeah,” he said, eyeing Oliver then flitting his eyes back to Felicity’s. “It's okay, baby." He leaned down, closer to her ear and whispered a little too loudly, "I just wanted to invite you back to my place for a little private party.”

Felicity laughed, placing her hand on his shoulder, and breathing seductively in his ear. "Normally, I'd jump at the chance, but I have a root-canal at 8am. Gotta get my rest.” Felicity stepped back, patting his shoulder. "Sorry, about that.”

"You do know who I am, don't you?"

Felicity raised her eyebrows at him.

Oliver watched the exchange amused and more than turned on. Felicity hadn't changed.

Chad sighed, seeming to accept defeat. He turned to Oliver. "Good luck, man. She is one hot tomato." Chad looked like he was about to reach out and squeeze Felicity’s ass, but Oliver slapped a heavy hand on his shoulder before he completed his douche bag send off. “Cold fish probably wouldn’t appreciate it anyway.” He stumbled off, heading for the circle of women gathered around in the far-right corner, looking right at him. He watched as the idiot grinned at the group of women. His night was clearly far from over.

Oliver held out his arms as Felicity turned back to him. "So, uh, do you want to dance?”

“You dance, Oliver Queen? In all my life never have I once seen you dance.”

“Trust me, my mother made sure I knew the basics by the time I was twelve.”

“Waltzing and fox trotting don’t look like they’re on the menu,” Felicity teased.

“Then we’ll improvise.”

***

Felicity melted into his embrace. It wasn’t fair how right it felt to be in his arms again. The music slowed, as if on cue, and Felicity rested her head on Oliver's shoulder. Slowly, without prompting from either, the pair began swaying softly to the music.

Felicity lifted her head, and gave Oliver a soft, shy smile. He could still unnerve her like no one else. Felicity Smoak, barracuda attorney-at-law, a pile of muddled mush in the arms of the old high school crush she’d dated for half a summer after her sophomore year at UC Berkeley. She’d turned eighteen that year, and he’d waited for her. He’d been twenty-two after all, and Oliver was a good guy who wanted to make sure she was respected. But even before they’d gotten together, Oliver had been special to her. He’d been someone she could trust to support her, to see her as more than just the geeky blonde in glasses who tutored all his senior friends when she was still in Freshman Comp. Deftly, she cleared her throat, trying to regain her senses. "So, Oliver..." her breath sputtered shakily across his neck. "You live here, I imagine."

"Yeah," Oliver smiled, then swallowed trying to moisten his dry throat. He was never this out of control, not any more. "I heard you just moved here."

"Oh, so you've talked to Barry, huh?"

"Yeah." Oliver did not know what else to say. He knew what he wanted to say, but he just couldn't. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer.

They continued to sway to the music. Felicity felt so alive her skin buzzed and her heart spun. She couldn't believe that a few moments before she was ready to pass out from exhaustion. Right now, she felt like she could run a marathon and still have enough energy to do the Tango with Oliver between her legs all night long. She shook her head. She really should not be having such thoughts about him. Not now. Not like this. Oliver's strong hand swept up her back. Felicity bit back a moan. He was not making this easy.

"So, what brought you to LA?"

"My law firm opened an office out here. I got upped to junior partner if I made the move.”

“Junior partner at 26?”

Felicity shrugged. “Your math is good.”

“I know you graduated from college at the same time some of us were just struggling to get a high school diploma but still…” Felicity blushed at his flattery. “You’re remarkable.”

“I don’t know about that. Obsessive maybe,” she said on a sigh. The lights dimmed around them. It may have been a signal that the party was ready to shut down, but she couldn’t stop her mouth from continuing. “Anyway, I had no real ties in New York, except Barry and a few other friends. I, also, was lucky enough to have one of my best friends, Silvia, make the move with me in the office, followed by two crotchety men in their fifties."

Barry was just a friend. He thought that was what she was saying. "So, um, your office is small?"

"No actually, Silvia and I were put in charge of recruiting the new staff. Right now, we are four partners, three juniors, and seven assistants."

"Sounds nice."

"It is."

Felicity sighed and put her head back on Oliver's shoulder.

"Would you belt me if I asked you to join me for one of my little private parties... courtesy of Starbucks?"

Felicity smiled, and shook her head against his shoulder. "I'd love to, Oliver." She felt like a kid again. She was insecure in his arms, and at the same time more comfortable than she'd ever been.

Oliver let his hands roam the contours of her shapely back, as he rested his cheek against her soft blonde hair.

"I see we've found our dates!" Barry shouted, coming up behind them, as the music slipped into a techno-beat tempo. Maureen had her arm linked through his.

Felicity and Oliver jumped apart.

"Don't worry," Barry laughed. "We're not going to punish you for getting too fresh on the dance floor." He winked at Felicity. She blushed. He could say such embarrassingly dorky things sometimes.

Felicity cheeks burned. Oliver scratched the purposefully organized scruff that littered his jaw.

"Oliver, sweetheart, I'm really tired. Do you think we could leave?" Maureen stepped away from Barry and leaned on Oliver.

Felicity's eyes widened at the presence of Maureen Anders. She was Oliver's date? The Victoria's Secret model's picture was plastered all over every fashion magazine in the country. Suddenly, Felicity felt every level of inadequacy she’d ever felt corkscrew through her veins. Damn. What had she been thinking? She really hadn’t put much coherent thought other than Oliver since she she’d seen him. Now, she was that awkward geek who’d started Starling Prep without a clue of how to even speak in front of the people who lived in his world – the beautiful people. But that summer, she’d found out Oliver was more than just an image. He was a man who brought out the parts of her she didn’t believe could shine. But they’d been so young. She had school to start, and he’d just returned home to spend time with his sister after being away for so long. Then, he’d left to find his way in the world so she could do the same for herself. He claimed he’d slow her down, that he was a mess. And then she saw him at Tommy and Laurel's wedding about a year later. They'd been overly polite to each other, feeling the eyes on them in the room. They'd left without saying a real word to each other. It had gutted her really, but after about a year, she’d decided that those insanely deep feelings had likely been one-sided and perhaps to him being her first – anything really. So, she went about the business of growing up. Eventually, the painful memory of that beautiful time lost became a sweet memory—a solvent in times of bad dates and six-month relationship break-ups.

"That's not a bad idea, Maureen,” Oliver was saying. “Barry, would you and Felicity like a ride with us?"

"Actually, I have a rental. A Porsche, actually." Barry smiled bashfully, knowing that such a revelation would not be a big deal to Oliver no matter how far he’d fallen or how it long it took him to power his way back up – on his own merit. But it was a big deal to him. He’d arrived – sort of.

"Well, um..." Oliver looked lost. Was he wanting to leave with Maureen but feeling obligated to stay and spend time with old friends?

"Oliver, it's okay,” Felicity supplied. “We can catch up another time."

***

Oliver did not like the sound of that. Another time, could mean two months from now, or never. "Felicity, why don't you and Barry give me your cell numbers, so I know where to reach you?”

As Felicity fumbled for the clasp on her tiny shoulder bag to look for whatever it was she wanted to look for, Oliver stepped a little closer to her, hoping only she could hear him. "I'd like to keep that date, if possible." He sounded like a desperate idiot, and desperate idiot was not Oliver Queen’s forte. He prided himself on being capable sure and highly focused. Felicity was a fond memory from the past not this flesh and blood creature of near perfection standing in front of him. Now, all he wanted was a chance to know her again, pretty much everything else be damned right about now.

She pulled out her business card and scribbled her address on the back. She then held her palm facing up, after placing the tiny cream-colored card in Oliver's hand. “Phone?” she squeaked, blushing a bit. Oliver handed her his phone, and she quickly punched her contact information into it.

For backup, Oliver reached into his pocket and handed a personal card to Barry then a second to Felicity. "Private cell's on there. Just don't let that float around,” said Oliver. "When do you leave, Barry?" he asked, taking his sister’s old friend’s card from him. The card exchange was so Hollywood, and so surreal as he was doing it with people he’d known most of his life, people that meant more to him than a simple network connection. “It was really good to see you. Thea was just here last week.”

“I know. I hate that I missed her, but I'll be here for the rest of the week."

"Stop by my office, and I’ll take you to lunch.” Oliver wanted to say, especially if you bring Felicity, but he refrained.

Barry smiled then turned to Felicity. “I'll go get our coats."

"Wait, Barry. I'll go with you and get Oliver's and mine," said Maureen. She really seemed to want to get out of there. Either that or she was angling for a part in Barry’s new movie.

"No. The line is a mad house. Let me get them," said Oliver.

"It's okay, Oliver. I'm a big girl." She dashed off behind the lanky director before Oliver could get another word in.

"Should I pick you up at your place?" Oliver looked down at Felicity's card. Century City. The Tower. Avenue of the Stars, #3620. He let out a short laugh. "Do you realize, we've been living five minutes away from each other since you got here?" He smiled.

Felicity’s eyebrows shot up. "Wow…That’s, uh, ironic, maybe or at least really weird. I don’t know why we haven’t seen each other. Of course, this is a really big city, but there are like people I run into all the time I live close by to you know like the gym or maybe the grocery store or—Oh, God. I still kinda run off at the mouth, I’m so sorry."

Oliver sighed. God, he’d missed her. "So, we’re gonna do this, huh?” She reached out and squeezed his hand.

Oliver's eyes slipped shut and he dug his teeth into his lip. That sensation was tortuously sweet.

"Pick me up in an hour. As much as I love this dress, I think a bit more casual wear is suited for Starbucks."

"Nah." Oliver titled his head, enjoying the simple contact between them. "I think it's more a come as you are kind of a joint."

"True enough," Felicity laughed, finally letting his hand go.

"Well, what do you say we go and find our dates, so we can get out of here?"

@miriam1779 @thebookjumper @nerdyandturdy @imusuallyobsessed @hope-for-olicity @tdgal1 @laurabelle2930 @missyriver @felicityssoliver @callistawolf @emmilynestill @wherethereissmoak @bitchwhwifi @green-arrows-of-karamel @relativelyobsessedfangirl @almondblossomme @therosegoldflower

[scriptych]

50 Questions Tag

I was tagged by my fav wtfparkjimin  to do a 50 questions tag . Sorry I’m doing this all the way in April ~~

What’s your favorite candle scent? I really like lemon grass apparently and ocean breeze.

Which female celebrity do you wish was your sister? I think Eunji would be a cool sister; she takes care of her little bro really went and she’d be really easy-going and really chill in general.

Which male celebrity do you wish was your brother? There’s so many but if I had to narrow it down it would probably be Zayn, who seems to be a really sweet and caring bro, or Jackson, who’d be a really fun, dumb one that would make me laugh constantly (I could see him as being the protective type, too).

How old do you think you’ll be when you get married? Late 20’s to mid-30’s if I really think about it. I’m not really the relationship type.

Do you know a hoarder? Yes my dad -.- he likes to keep the most unnecessary items claiming he’ll use then “later”

Can you do a split? Lol no, but I can’t say I haven’t attempted and failed miserably.

How old were you when you learned how to ride a bike? Probably 9 or 10 and it was one of the most accomplished moments in my life since I taught myself tbrh

How many oceans have you swam in? I think 2? Pacific and Indian.

How many countries have you been to? Two, not counting all the stops I’ve made in between, but I hope to travel the world one day so my goal is 50 before I die.

Is anyone in your family in the army? No, not currently.

What would you name your daughter if you had one? If I had to pick a     vietnamese name it would probably be Mai and as for American, Jada or     Cecilia or Mona maybe. I also really like boyish names for girls, too.     Lol, I haven’t put much thought into names.

What would you name your son if you had one? Again, no clue but I like Parker for some reason.

What’s the worst grade you got on a test? I’ve gotten a 66% this year and I can’t remember anything else.

What was your favorite tv show when you were a child? What did you dress up as on halloween when you were eight?  My favorite tv shows as a kid were either Pokemon or Sailor Moon because I was a geeky Asian child. I think I was a ninja lol.

What did you dress up as on halloween when you were eight? A blue ninja and it was cute af. Or maybe a witch I think I’ve only ever bought like 3 costumes lol.

Have you read any of the harry potter, hunger games or twilight series? I’ve read and seen Harry Potter more times than I can count; it’s my favorite series without a doubt. Fair warning, I’ll try to group everyone in a house if I could so you’ll see a lot of Harry Potter au fanart or fics reblog (maybe written). I’ve read the Hunger Game series a few times too, but I’ve never even opened a Twilight book.

Would you rather have an american accent or a british accent? As cool as British accents may sound to me, I think I’ll stick to the American accent.

Did your mother go to college? No? I don’t think so

Are your grandparents still married? Yes, amazingly although they tend to argue every time I see them.

Have you ever taken karate lessons? No, my parents didn’t sign me up for extracurricular as     a child sadly.

Do you know who kermit the frog is? To quote Zahraa: “*sips tea* yeah, but thats none of your business”.

What’s the first amusement park you’ve been to? Six Flags

What language, besides your native language, would you like to be fluent in? I’ve been learning French for 2 years now and I’m aiming to be fluent by the time I graduate. I’d also like to be fluent in Vietnamese; I guess I am fluent but I’d like to know more words so i’m not struggling with I move away for simple topics. Japanese, Korean, and Spanish would be really cool too. Honestly, just give me all the languages.

Do you spell the color as grey or gray? Grey. I read on some tumblr post that that’s the “English way” because grE(ngland)y and I’m calling bs right now.

Is your father bald? Nope,  still has a full head of hair.

Do you know any triplets? No, but I love the Song Triplets.

Do you prefer titanic or the notebook? I haven’t seen The Notebook and I’ve seen maybe 40% of the Titanic, so it wins by default.

Ever had indian food? I’ve had curry but that’s as far as it goes. I’d like to widen my palate ,so I’m opening to any suggestions.

What’s the name of your favorite restaurant? I really like this little sushi restaurant called Cafe Mochi, but I prefer buffets to most restaurants.

Have you ever been to olive garden? Nope.

Do you belong to any warehouse stores (costco, bj’s, etc)? Nah, my parents would never pay for membership lol.

What would your parents have named you if you were the opposite gender? Hmm, never asked them that.

If you have a nickname, what is it? I don’t have a nickname since my name is already pretty short; however, Zahraa likes to call me ‘Annie’ sometimes.

Who’s your favorite person in the world? The person I’ve mentioned multiple times in this post already as well as the co-owner of this blog, my bestest friend in the world, Zahraa. We’ve been friends for so long that we know each other like the back of our hands and plus she’s amazing for putting up with me for this long. Other than her, it’s probably our other best friend, Lizzy, or my mom tbh.

Would you rather live in a rural area or in the suburbs? I’d rather live in the city, but if I had to pick the suburbs. I would run out of things to do in the rural area and end up sleeping 18 hours a day.

Can you whistle? No, I’ve never understood it and I feel like I’ve missed the appropriate age to ask someone to teach me.

Do you sleep with a nightlight? No, although I did sleep with a nightlight a lot later than everyone else I feel like.

Do you eat breakfast every morning? Yes, if I have school that day. On weekends, I sleep in way past breakfast.

Do you take any pills or medication daily? No.

What medical conditions do you have? None that I’m aware of.

How many times have you been to the hospital? For an illness: 2. In     general: more than 7?

Have you ever seen finding nemo? Yes, ofc. I’m alive aren’t I?

Where do you buy your jeans? Lol Marshall’s. They have quality jeans for less.

What’s the last compliment you got? My eyebrows look good (the only compliment I’ll ever need).

Do you usually remember your dreams in the morning? Yes, but they’re really weird and random.

What types of tea do you enjoy? I’d drink any tea (tea > coffee any day) but I like green tea and if I’m at Starbucks I’d order green tea lemonade with a pump of raspberry

How many pairs of shoes do you currently own? 6 maybe more.

What religion will you raise your children to practice? I’m not really religious (maybe Atheist, maybe Buddhist), so I’d let my children decide their own religion if they choose to have one.

How old were you when you found out that santa wasn’t real? My family doesn’t celebrate Christmas, so I’ve never believed in Santa. Yes, I’m one of those people (it actually says a lot about me). Even when we talked about it in school, it never added up to me. A fat guy in a white suit breaking into houses to deliver presents with flying reindeers as his prefered mode of transportation? I don’t think so.

Why do you have tumblr? I’ve had my other tumblr account since 2011 I’ve seen hell and back on this site, so I don’t really remember. I don’t even know how I even discovered what a Tumblr is.

[let-it-raines]

Betting on the Bullseye (Part 11)

Summary: Emma Swan loses a bet that means she has to ask her celebrity crush to be her date to her office's annual fundraising gala. Killian Jones is that celebrity crush. She expects all kinds of humiliation and for her dignity to be completely lost. What she doesn't expect is for him to say yes

Rating: Mature

A/N: Have I ever told you guys how awesome I think you are? Because I really do think that!

We’ve got some more fluff and some conversations and a baseball game. And in the next chapter, we meet the friends...dun dun dun :D

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

Tag List: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @wellhellotragic​ @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91@branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @galaxyzxstark @lifeinahole27 @andiirivera @ultimiflos @hollyethecurious

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

“Oh my God,” Emma groans, swiveling in her desk chair and burying her face in her hands, hoping that if she doesn’t move away from the desk that maybe Ruby will get up and walk away. When she doesn’t hear any movement, she peeks up, opening an eye to see Ruby still sitting in the chair in the corner with an absolute smirk on her face. “Are you five years old?”

“No, but I just saw your boyfriend slobber all over you in your office like you two are horny teenagers, so I really think I’m the mature one in this situation.”

“First of all,” she begins, sitting back in her chair and tugging at the loose strands falling out of her bun, “it was not slobber. He is not a dog. That would be disgusting. Secondly, why the hell were you in my office? I feel like you’re never down in the therapy center.”

Ruby shrugs before she blows on her nails, the picture of nonchalance as always. “I don’t have a session for thirty minutes, and I wanted to see your sex glow.”

“You get creepier by the minute. Mary Margaret is obviously the better best friend.”

“Hey, rude,” Ruby scoffs, throwing the pillow she’s holding over at her only for Emma to catch it. “We are both equally good best friends. I am the fun one who convinces us to do things like skydiving or barhopping, Mary Margaret is the mom friend who doesn’t let us go home with creepy guys, and you, my little Swan, are our brutally honest companion who, despite your sometimes prickly exterior, is a wonderful mix of both me and Marg. And come on, how can you get better than being like me?”

“How did you manage to turn that from a quasi compliment about me and Marg to it being about you?”

“I’m a woman of many talents.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She turns to her computer, logging into her account and waiting for everything to boot up so she can answer the emails that she’s sure have come in since last night. “Why the hell do I have emails from people past midnight? Who is working at midnight and thinks, ‘huh, I want to come visit a children’s center?’”

“People who don’t sleep,” Ruby answers, getting up from the chair and perching herself on the side of her desk, the hem of her dress falling over her knees. “Speaking of that, I want to talk about how you didn’t sleep last night and still have this whole glow about you. You look refreshed, except for this whole hair situation thing you’ve got going on.”

“It dried all on its own and when I brushed it out this morning, it was like a frizzy bush. So the messy bun it is.”

“It looks like sex hair.”

“It is sex hair.”

“Ha,” Ruby laughs, slapping Emma’s shoulder, “I knew it.”

“Well, obviously, Rubes. My boyfriend just came into town after me not seeing him in weeks. What were we going to do? Have him sleep out on the couch after a quaint dinner full of small talk? Maybe a little handholding?”

“I bet you did all of that too.” She rolls her eyes, trying to keep her lips in a straight line. “Maybe.” “You know, I only ask because I’m the entire reason that you’re getting some. The world should thank me.”

“How the hell is that?”

“You met him because of me.”

“I got drunk and lost a stupid bet. You just happened to be…less drunk than me.”

“And then I picked your suitor for the night, who is now your suitor for…awhile? I’m not sure if we’re talking, like, the Nolans type of relationship or the Bachelor type of relationship.”

Her face immediately heats and she squirms in her chair, adjusting herself and suddenly finding a junk email about a sale on cars the most interesting thing in the world. She does not want to answer Ruby’s question, or statement really. She knows her answer, but saying it out loud seems like it’s too much too soon. She feels…a lot for Killian, her feelings teetering so close to love that she could easily be knocked over and fall head first in if she’s given the right push, but she doesn’t want to admit it too soon. She’s not sure where Killian is in that whole regard, but it’s not something she’s actively thinking about. They’re working how they are, and there’s no need for her to think otherwise.

It’s like what Killian told her this morning, just before Ruby apparently saw him “slobbering” on her, he makes her happy. It was cheesy and made her cringe a bit, but then she saw the emotion in his eyes, heard it in his voice, and she realized how sweet it was, how sweet he is. Killian’s had some screwed up things happen to him in the past, things that make her blood curdle that anyone could try to take advantage of a man who’d do anything for anyone, and he still has the ability to be that kind, if not a bit self-loathing when he doesn’t need to be.

Not that she has any right to call someone out for being self-loathing.

She pretty much has that one in the bag.

“So what’s lover boy doing while you’re working?” Ruby asks, obviously sensing that Emma did not want to talk about how long she thinks her relationship is going to last.

It’s forev…nope. She’s not going to even think it. That’d be crazy.

“I’m not sure. I gave him some suggestions on places to go, so he might go explore the city a bit on his own. But honestly with how tired he was, I’m thinking he’s going to go back to my place and crash before doing a bit of work.”

“Sounds like a hell of a vacation.” “I have Netflix and food. What more could he ask for?”

Ruby eventually has to go do actual work, as does Emma, her day passing by at a snail’s pace with little more to do than twiddling her thumbs and cleaning out her desk drawers. Some days are like this, slow and steady, something to do coming in every few hours, while others are nonstop, making her feel like she can never get a moment to breathe. If it were a perfect world, those days would blend together to make a day where she’s never overwhelmed or underwhelmed. To quote Gabrielle Union in 10 Things I Hate About You, she would just be whelmed.

(That movie came on twice in a row the other night, and she was too lazy to get up and find the remote to change the channel.)

But the world isn’t perfect so the rest of day goes by achingly slow with nothing to do, and like it’s some kind of karmic payback for her complaining about her day on Tuesday, Wednesday is a nonstop day that has her so frazzled she forgets to eat lunch and doesn’t realize it’s far past six thirty in the evening, nearly an hour and a half after she should have gone home, until there’s a knock at her office door and Killian’s standing there in a suit with two cups of coffee in his hands.

Oh shit. They were supposed to go out tonight. That’s what they’d decided on when she got home from work yesterday. He’d spent the day catching up on emails and reviewing new scripts even though he apparently promised himself he wouldn’t look at anything new for at least a month. So since he didn’t explore Boston last night, especially with the way they stayed in bed continuing to make up for lost time, they were supposed to tonight.

But she screwed it up.

She groans, throwing her head down against the desk and hiding her face in her arms, hoping that she can somehow go back in time and meet Killian back at her apartment when she was supposed to.

“I am so, so, so, soooo unbelievably sorry. Ah, fuck, I’m really late, aren’t I?”

“Well, you were supposed to be home two hours ago, so yeah, I’d say the fact that you’re still in your office means you’re pretty late.”

He doesn’t look angry or disappointed, the smallest of smiles gracing his face, and she wonders how the man who is on time for literally everything could somehow not be irritated with her.

She’s irritated with herself.

“How pissed are you at me?”

He hums, taking a step away from the door and making his way over to sit on the edge of her desk, his thighs spreading out and gray pants tightening with the movement. That’s not distracting at all. Nope. She doesn’t find the muscles in his thighs in any way attractive. She’s also a liar. “Well, I wouldn’t say pissed is the right word. I’d say more concerned.” “Why?”  

He hands her the coffee then, and she notices the cups are from Iron Bank. He must have gone back there instead of going to Starbucks or something. “Because it’s seven, Swan. And I know you like your job, but I don’t think you like it enough to stay here because you want to. Not when you have a devilishly handsome date waiting for you, especially when he got all dressed up for the occasion.”

Killian’s waggling his eyebrows and smiling down at her, his hair coiffed up in a way that makes her know he put some effort into it, which only makes her feel worse. Obviously Killian doesn’t take as long as she does to get ready for a date, but still. He was at her apartment getting ready and waiting for her all while she was trying to understand why her Excel programming decided to glitch and malfunction and make none of the numbers align.

She feels like an awful human being.

“I’m sorry,” she whines again, saving the program and exiting out, figuring that she’ll fix it in the morning. She’s got to fix this now. “What time is our reservation?”

“At eight.”

“Okay,” she sighs, getting up from her seat and straightening out her pants, “if we break, like, every traffic law or maybe just make a run for it, we can get me home to change and then get there in time. Of course, if we just went to, like, one of my usual places we wouldn’t even need a reservation. So maybe if we don’t make it to Sorellina’s then we can do that. Or we can go and be late and hope they don’t give up our table, or I’ll just wear what I have on. This is fine, right?”

Killian chuckles, not even moving from his perch on her desk while she’s gathering up all her belongings, running through the scenarios again. Before she gets the chance to walk out the door, Killian grabs her wrist, pulling her closer so that she stands in between his splayed knees. Before she can even say anything, he’s pulling her wrist up to his lips and kissing right under her palm. Her eyes flutter closed at the touch, the contrast of the softness of his lips and harshness of his whiskers causing her skin to tingle the slightest bit. She didn’t realize how quickly her heart was beating, how heated her face was, but she can feel it all now as she cools off.

“Swan, calm down.”

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just…I’m sorry.”

“Love, do not apologize again.”

“I’m – never mind.”

He smiles, running his thumb back and forth over her wrist. “You lost track of time at work, something you do all of the time. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just a dinner reservation. I don’t care if we miss it. But luckily for you, I called and traded it out with someone else for a nine o’clock one.”

“You could have told me that before I felt like the worst person in the world, KJ.”

“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have seen you sweat.”

“You’re not a kind man.”

“Never claimed to be.”

Traffic takes forever, the roads on the way back to her apartment seemingly staying at a standstill for over forty five minutes, but they do eventually get back to her apartment. Luckily, she washed her hair this morning, even curled it a bit, so all she really has to do is slip out of her blouse and pants and slip into a black dress she’s had for years. It’s a little tight, looks more like something she’d wear out to a bar, so she throws on her red leather jacket and favorite ankle boots to look a bit nicer. She knows that she has time to redo her hair and makeup, but all she does is flick on another line of eyeliner and reapply her lipstick before heading back out into the living room where Killian is typing away on his phone.

“Okay, I’m ready to go, though I think we might actually be early now.”

He looks up at her then, his phone dropped into his lap while his lips part and his eyes trace up and down her body. A shiver runs down her spine, something that happens a lot when he’s around, and she reminds herself that they absolutely have to go out tonight. She’s not messing this dinner up again.

“You look – ”

“I know.”

“And you say I’m cocky, love,” Killian laughs, looking back down at his phone and typing a few things in. “I’ve got an Uber coming to pick us up in five minutes.”

“I can drive.” “Aye, I know, but this way we don’t have to worry about parking or if we have anything to drink.”

“I like the way you think.”

It’s a relatively cool night as they wait outside for their Uber, so she’s glad that she grabbed her jacket, but they’re not outside long before loading up into Devin’s car as he takes them across town to Sorellina’s. She’s been in more Ubers than she should for someone who likes to drive herself places, but Devin is definitely the quietest driver she’s ever had. He doesn’t say much, just asking how their evening is going while they chat in the back, but she does notice him continuously looking back at them through his review mirror.

She has no idea why until they’re pulling up outside of the restaurant, and he asks, “Hey, are you?”

“Yeah,” Killian answers, quickly sliding out of the backseat and holding his hand out for her so that she can easily get out of the car. Maybe he is the gentleman he claims to be. Okay, so he definitely is. “Have a good night, mate.”

Before they go inside, she grabs onto his jacket sleeve, tugging at him to look at her. “Hey, is it okay that we’re out? I didn’t think about people recognizing you.”

“It’s fine, love.” He leans down and kisses her, making her forget her worries for the moment. “As long as you’re okay with the possibility of people seeing us together, I’m fine with it.”

“I’m fine with it too.”

“Good.”

Despite being fine with it, she does notice how Killian’s reservation is for a booth in the back, the lighting not as nice as it is everywhere else in the restaurant. But whatever works for him works for her, and she really doesn’t have any complaints about tonight. It might be a nicer place than she usually frequents, but that’s not going to keep her from having a nice time.

She gets a lasagna, though it’s definitely got a fancier name than that on the menu, while Killian gets gnocchi, which she definitely would have pronounced wrong if she had ordered it. Maybe she needs to expand her palate a little bit. But it’s fine for tonight. The food is good, the wine great, and even though she’s never been one for fancy restaurants, she finds it doesn’t matter when you actually like the person who’s sitting across from you.

Maybe that’s been the problem.

Or maybe the prices.

Probably both.

Definitely both.

“ – no, no, I’m serious. I won the spelling bee when I was in primary school. I was quite the little academic. Top five in my class, too.”

Killian’s been telling her all about his academic prowess and all of the clubs he was in when he was younger. He played a green bean in a play about how eating your vegetables is important, and she thinks that’s where he got his penchant for healthy eating. And maybe why he’s such a good actor.

“Who knew you were such a little genius, KJ?”

“I did. My entire life.”

She rolls her eyes, taking a sip of her wine to hide her smile. “So why’d you never go to college…or university? That’s what you call it, right? I know you moved here when you were eighteen to get away from…everything, but I bet you could have gotten a scholarship. That’s what I did. And a hell of a lot of student loans.”

Killian takes a sip of his rum before reaching up to scratch behind his ear, his lips ticking up on the right while his eyes squint. “Eh, it was the money, the fact that I didn’t know what to do. Liam had busted his arse to pay for me to live after he managed to get me into his custody, and I didn’t want to burden us anymore. I was good at manual labor, so if I hadn’t found the set building job, I think we would have both worked in construction. I like being able to work with my hands.”

Oh. She didn’t think of that. She should have. She went through doing it all on her own, worrying about finances and how to live, and she should have known that Killian did that too. She knows enough about his childhood to know how rough he and Liam had it for a few years. But sometimes the words just slip without her thinking.

“I’m sorry that I asked, if that brought up bad memories of something you didn’t get to do.”

“Hey,” Killian soothes, reaching across the table and twining their fingers together, his palm warm in hers, “it’s fine, love. It’s not a sad story or something I’m ashamed of. It’s my past, and I kind of like my job situation now. I don’t think I would have gotten it if I’d studied somewhere.”

“What…what do you think you would have studied? Hypothetically speaking.” “Then? English. Would have been dirt poor for my entire life, but I would have liked to have been a teacher. Now? Definitely acting. I’m pretty self taught, but the academic in me likes to always know more, to be learning.” He squeezes her hand before releasing it and moving it back to his side of the table. Sometimes she sees little flickers of darkness behind the brightness of his eyes, but he either hides it well or truly doesn’t let his past affect him too much. “But I don’t regret anything, Swan. I spent too long being bitter, and I’m not going to complain about how Liam and I made it here. Though, I would take having my mum back.”

“She’d be proud of you.”

“I’d like to hope so.” He smiles softly, almost sadly, and it breaks her heart like it does every time she thinks of Killian losing his mom, someone he very obviously loved with his entire being. “She’d love you. You remind me of her, actually, and not in some kind of weird, psychologists would study it, way.” “Well that’s good to know,” she laughs, messing with the leftover food on her plate so that she has time to process all of this. She kind of wishes she could have met his mom, too. Mostly she wishes that she was here for Killian. And Liam.

She may have never known her parents, may not know anything about them, but Killian knew his mom. He grew up with her and had to watch her die when he was ten. She can’t…she can’t imagine. But at the end of the day, she and Killian have both been left, abandoned by people who were supposed to love them and be there for them, so they understand each other. And she’s known that from the night they met when he shared with her that he’d been in foster care for awhile, something people don’t know.

He trusted her from the beginning, and that’s not an honor she takes lightly.

Oh God, she’s kind of thinking like him now.

“I just mean that you two are both bloody brilliant with huge hearts and a quick wit. And, you know, the ability to knock me back down to earth when my head gets a little too big.”

“So all of the time?”

“Aye, so all of the time.”

“All of the time, KJ.”

After they get the bill, she and Killian walk outside and wait for their Uber, not really wanting to walk around the area. She can feel the wine buzzing through her the slightest bit, not anywhere near enough to be drunk, but definitely enough to be a little wine happy. Killian wraps his arm around her waist, tugging her a little bit closer so that she can rest her cheek against his shoulder.

“You know, darling, I don’t think I tell you this enough, but I think you are phenomenal.”

“Hmm, I feel like you should just tell me that every day. You may not need to have an inflated ego, but I certainly can.”

“I’m serious, Swan. You’re a badass. The life you’ve made for yourself, all by yourself, it takes a strong woman to do that, and you deserve all of the credit in the world. And in case no one has ever told you, I’m proud of you.”

Oh shit.

She wasn’t expecting that. Not at all. Not in the slightest. And she’s not going to cry. This was supposed to be dinner, a night out that’s fun, not something that’s going to make her cry. But she doesn’t think anyone has ever told her that. Maybe Mary Margaret and David, but she’s not sure right now.

She’s barely able to even tell herself that sometimes, even if she is damn proud of herself.

And then another thought comes to her, the very one that was teetering on the tip of her tongue that she was trying to push down, and it nearly takes her breath away. She thinks she loves him. No, she does love him. She…expected it in a way, but really, in no way could she have ever expected this, expected him.

In no way could she have ever expected herself to even want to love again, not after everything, but she’s here and weirdly, she’s not scared of it.

Okay, so maybe she’s a little terrified, but the voice that’s telling her to run away is oddly quiet. Maybe it’s replaced by the sound of Killian telling her he’s proud of her.

She turns in Killian’s embrace and wraps her arms around his neck before capturing his bottom lip with her mouth, feeling the softness and warmth that always accompanies him. He gasps a little when her lips move, almost like he wasn’t expecting it, and she smiles into the kiss, not able to help herself from her teeth clanking against his before she moves back in with fervor, trying to let him know how she feels even if she can’t say the words yet, if she wants to hoard them and keep them to herself for now.

For tonight at least.

“Hey, are you, um, Liam Jones, who ordered the tan Toyota Camry with Madeline driving?”

She pulls back a bit when a girl yells at them from the restaurant’s driveway, her face red enough that Emma knows she’s been watching them for awhile. Oops.

She’s not at all sorry.

“That’s us,” Killian laughs, quickly kissing her once more before pulling back from her.

“Liam Jones? That’s definitely not your name.”

“Aye, I know, but this way if I ever get a bad review, it’s under Liam’s name.”

“But it’ll still be under your account. I don’t think that’s – ”

He dips his head and kisses her again, making her almost lose her balance on the sidewalk. “Aye, I know that’s not how it works, Swan. Let’s just get in the car and hope Liam doesn’t get a bad review from me not being able to resist you until we get back to the apartment.”

“I think the bad review might be worth it.”

-/-

“So who are we playing tonight?”

“The Orioles. If you’d come, like, a week and a half later we could have watched the Astros, but nooo, apparently you have schedules and things like that.”

“I mean,” Killian begins, wrapping his arm around her shoulder while they walk down Van Ness, the sidewalk crowded with people heading toward Fenway, even if tonight isn’t a big game, “I do occasionally have to work. Meetings and such. And family obligations.”

“Excuses, excuses.” She reaches over to pat his back, rubbing up and down in circles. “Have you ever been to a baseball game?”

“Aye, I’ve been to several Dodgers’ games.”

“Okay, better question. Have you ever been to a baseball game and not sat, like, behind home plate?”

“Are you asking if I’ve ever sat up in the cheap seats?”

“Yep.”

“Well, believe it or not, I was once a poor young lad.”

“From a poor family.”

“I don’t think Bohemian Rhapsody is really the song to quote here.”

“Okay, go on, go on.”

“So Liam and I, when we first moved to California, would go and buy the nosebleeds for the Dodgers, and go a couple times a summer. Yeah, we could have just watched on TV, but there’s only so much time you can sit in a small apartment with your older brother who was very hot and heavy with his girlfriend.”

“Elsa?”

“Oh no, this was long before Elsa. Liam was quite the ladies’ man when we first moved here.”

“Really now?”

“Oh yes, think about it. A British transplant fresh out of the Navy with those stunning Jones looks.”

“You’re either conceited or confident. I can’t decide.”

“Maybe a bit of both.”

They get to their gate, Emma pulling up the tickets on her phone and scanning them before going through. She thinks Killian gets a few weird looks, but he’s got on his aviators and a hat, which is obviously not a complex disguise or anything, but he says that it works, which is a really weird thing for her to think about. She sometimes (all of the time) forgets what he does for a living, or really, the consequences of what he does, even if that is how they met. But then they’ll be out and he’ll tug his hat down on his forehead or, like the other night, make sure their table is in the back corner of the restaurant.

After going through security, they wander around in the concrete halls, passing by all of the food and souvenir stands until they find the staircase to lead them to their seats. Only a few people are in their area, the stadium mostly empty, but she didn’t really expect anything else. She’s been to enough of these games to know that some games just are pretty empty. But it is Friday night, so as the first few innings go by, the score staying steady at one run a piece, people begin to filter in, the red seats slowly being filled with people as the sun sets over the stadium, coating the Boston skyline with pink clouds and a red sky that would almost look creepy if not for the way that there’s still light blue mixed into sky.

She looks to her left where Killian is holding up his phone, very obviously taking pictures of the sunset over the stadium.

“You are so basic, KJ.”

“Basic and getting a picture of this sunset.” He turns to her, holding the phone right in front of her face in what she knows is an unflattering angle. “Smile, love.”

“No,” she groans, covering her face and letting her hair fall in front of her eyes. She should have never taken her sunglasses off. “That’s going to look gross.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Killian laughs, pulling back and flipping through the photos where she pretty much looks like the girl from The Ring with a double chin and only one eye that opens, “I think these look pretty good.”

“Delete those.” “Oh no, I’m keeping them forever. Might even post them online.” “That is a threat that I do not like, and I will unfollow you. That’s one less like on your artsy pictures of your food.” “Oi,” he reaches over and pinches the skin on her inner thigh, “that was one time, and you won’t let it go.”

“You stood up over the table and turned your flashlight on to get good lighting.” “It was a good breakfast.”

“Sure, babe,” she laughs, placing her hand over his on her thigh. “I know you’re just a basic girl on Instagram.”

“Well, in that case,” he yawns, dramatically stretching his arm over her shoulder and yanking her closer, “let’s take a selfie.”

“Oh my God, you are so not smooth.” She can’t stop laughing, is sure that her face is heating from the constant movement, but that doesn’t stop her from leaning her cheek into his and smiling while he holds the phone up and takes several pictures. “But I like your basic girl tendencies.”

“Good, and now I have photos so I can scrapbook my big trip to Boston.”

“Stop,” she groans, burying her head in his shoulder while his entire body shakes in laughter underneath her. He is not going to make a scrapbook. That would just be…ridiculous.

“Never. You want something to eat?”

“Obviously, yes. I thought about just waiting until afterwards so I didn’t spend the money on the overpriced cheeseburger, but I want the damn overpriced cheeseburger.” She gets up from her chair, pulling her shorts up and making sure her sweater is still tucked in. “What do you want?”

“I was going to go get it, Swan.”

“Nah, my treat, KJ. You can stay here and watch this riveting game. There’s so much happening.”

“You say that and something will definitely happen while you’re gone. And I’ll just eat whatever you’re having, but with a water.”

“How do you know I wasn’t going to get a water?”

He taps his forehead, smiling up at her so that his eyes crinkle. “I just know.”

She rolls her eyes before grabbing her purse and maneuvering her way out of their row of seats, apologizing to everyone as she steps over them and blocks their view. There’s a concession stand just outside of their gate, so she quickly slides into line, pulling out her phone and scrolling through Instagram. Maybe she’s a basic girl of Instagram too.

There’s a picture of Leo at the top of her timeline. He’s holding a sign saying he’s going to be a big brother. She likes it, laughing under her breath. Maybe they’ve all fallen into the trap of being basic. It’s whatever. She likes the cute pictures. As she continues to scroll, she sees a hell of a lot of pictures of her old classmates from college standing in front of colorful murals, cheesy captions with them all, as well as one from Victor where he’s posted all of the used coffee cups in his office. Kind of gross but whatever. He works weird shifts.

And then suddenly there’s a picture of her. Well, kind of her. Or at least her hair. Her face is buried in Killian’s shoulder while he smiles at the camera. It must have been when he was taking the pictures and she couldn’t stop laughing. When she slides to the right, there’s a picture of the stadium with the sun setting over it. It really is a good picture.

KillianJonesOfficial: She knocks my (red) sox off.

Her cheeks immediately blush while she likes it, knowing better than to click on the comments. They talked about how things with them would likely go public the more they go out, and she said she was fine with it. She doesn’t necessarily like it, especially if there’s going to be the occasional person following her around, but she also doesn’t want to have to hide away in her apartment when they can go out and do things like this.

Though, Killian probably shouldn’t have posted this while they’re at the game. That doesn’t seem like a good idea.

She eventually gets to the front of the line, ordering their meals and waiting for them to be made until she’s got all of the junk food she needs (she’s definitely going to have to go for a run in the morning) and is making her way back up the stairs, hoping that she doesn’t drop everything while navigating the small aisles.

“Thanks,” Killian says as she hands him his tray and his water, holding down her seat so she doesn’t do something klutzy like fall on her ass.

“Mhm,” she hums, popping a fry in her mouth. As good of a time as she had at dinner the other night, this is her kind of date. “So, um, I see that you’re stealing my jokes for your captions.”

“You are not the only one to ever say that joke.”

“It was still my joke.” She eats another fry as Martinez hits a homerun, something finally happening in the game. Everyone around them cheers, a few wolf whistles thrown around, while music plays over the speakers and the hit is replayed on the jumbotrons. “But I’m glad I make you write cheesy captions. Aren’t you worried about people coming to find you, though? Isn’t that a thing?”

“Aye, but those girls down in front of us have been sneaking pictures of me all night. I figured it was just a matter of time.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, love. I’m having a bloody good time even if this is the most boring game I’ve ever been to. I was expecting more from the team who beat my Dodgers for the World Series.”

“Ah, I get it now. You’re just salty that you lost.”

“Damn straight. I was at the game.”

“And things just make all the more sense.”

The game finishes a little before nine, most everyone having cleared out already, so as a breeze washes over the night, they make their way back to the parking garage she parked in a few blocks over. Most people are beginning to settle into bars and pubs, a Friday night just beginning for most, and when she suggests that they go to a pub, Killian almost falls out on the sidewalk talking about how his ass hurts from sitting in tiny plastic seats for three hours and how he absolutely cannot sit on anything that’s not a soft cushion. When she teases him about thirty-three hitting him early, he doesn’t say anything, stretching his legs out only for his knees to pop…and then to pop again when he settles down into the passenger seat of her car.

She doesn’t say anything then, just silently reaches over and pats his thigh while they wait in traffic to get out of the garage. He grabs her hand only to put it down and reach over to take her left wrist in his hand, quickly kissing the inside of her wrist. She doesn’t know why he does that, but she’s noticed it over the past week. It happens about as often as he reaches up and scratches behind is ear, and it makes something inside of her flutter. She’s not sure if anything in her body is supposed to flutter, but something does.

Maybe one day she’ll ask him why he does the wrist thing.

Maybe one day she’ll tell him she loves him too.

Once they get away from Fenway, the traffic thins out and it’s a quick drive home, Emma easily pulling into her parking space in front of her apartment and grabbing her bag of work clothes out of her backseat before unlocking the front door of the building and taking the stairs up to her apartment with Killian behind her.

“I’m going to go take a shower, okay?”

Killian nods as he settles himself down on the couch, and she quickly makes her way into the bathroom, turning on the shower and waiting for it to heat while she strips away her clothes and tosses them into her hamper. It’s been a long week, and as much as she loves having Killian here, she hasn’t gotten nearly as much sleep as she usually does. She really likes her sleep.

It’s probably the fastest shower of her life, just a quick rinse off of the sweat and grime collected at the game, before she’s hopping out and wrapping a towel around her chest and in her hair so she can wash her face. She usually does a face mask once a week, and she’s definitely neglected that this week and can already feel herself breaking out. So she slathers on the cream, covering herself in the green mask before sliding on pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt.

When she walks back into the living room, she plops down next to Killian, who is watching Live PD for some reason. Kind of weird but it’s whatever. One of her favorite things about him being here are discovering his weird tendencies that she doesn’t get to see when they’re apart.

“How was your shower, Jim Carrey?”

She turns to look at him, and he’s smirking at her, his lips ticking up to the right while his eyes slant. “What now?”

“Jim Carrey,” he repeats, waving his hand in her face, “you know, like the Mask?”

“Oh my God,” she groans, having to restrain herself from hiding her face in her hands so she doesn’t mess her mask up while it dries, “I knew I should have stayed in the bathroom until I wiped it off.”

“Yeah, that was a horrible mistake on your part, love.”

She chuckles, leaning down into the cushions and watching someone get pulled over for driving without a license or a license plate, which is definitely not a smart move. She lets out a large breath, her stomach extending with the movement. Another thing about Killian being here is that she’s eating a hell of a lot more and going to the gym less.

And sex only counts a little. She’s not going to be one of those weird people who says their gym is the bedroom. Like, why are there people who not only think that but who feel the need to share it with others?

“Do you want to get up and go running in the morning?

“It depends.”

“On what?”

“Are you still going to be wearing that mask? Because I’m just not sure I can be seen with you looking like that.”