#also i miss being a regular in a cafe but i hate spending so much money on coffee

[bugintheruins]

its soooooo noce to have time to draw for myself again

[jeongjaebae]

The regular dilemma

⇢ Juyeon x reader, 4.2k, humour and fluff ⇢ Warnings: dirty jokes, swearing

⇢ Everyone's been telling you about The Social Dilemma, but it's not social media that is the dilemma. It's socializing. Specifically, socializing with your regular customer (and crush???) at the coffee shop you work at.

"Social media is a disease, Y/N," Hyunjae says, trying to grab your phone out of your hands. "Tell me, have you ever seen anything good being posted online? They just feed you brain-rotting posts that will reduce your IQ a little each time."

"Yeah? Well, maybe if I lost some IQ points I'd finally be able to understand the stupid shit that you do." You roll your eyes at him, quickly putting your phone away before he could do any real damage to it. Why had it been a good idea to let him watch that docudrama? He's never given you a moment of peace ever since being brainwashed by it.

"You're just jealous that I'm better at everything—"

"And you know what else is a disease? Lovesickness. I am entirely blaming you and your big fat crush on Mr. Seoul Fashion Week for my current situation."

The mention of his crush's code name finally gets him to shut up, and you count that as a win.

Lovesickness. Indeed, it was a disease that had spread to you the moment the gorgeous man had walked into the cafe.

If it had been one month earlier, you would've said that you hated Monday shifts the most because it would mean another week of having to fake-smile at customers, getting the orders right, and making drinks as fast as you could. It'd mean another week of spending hours at a time on your feet while crying over the assignments you still had to do for class and the midterms you still had to study for, and—whoever said being a visual arts major was easy was definitely wrong.

If that wasn't bad enough, you also had to put up with being teased by your archenemy and asshole co-worker, Hyunjae, as he tries to one-up you in every single aspect of your job. Making drinks? You'd lost to him by a few milliseconds. Heating up food? How could that possibly turn into a competition when the oven really only has one time setting? Yet Hyunjae shakes his head at you every time for being too slow. You don't even want to think about the times he'd called your attempts at latte art ugly, with a 'Tsk tsk Y/N, I thought you said you were a visual arts major?' The point is, why did this become a competition? You were supposed to be a team.

But now, the stresses of being alive no longer seem quite so critical when compared to the stuttering of your heart and the shaking of your hands under the gaze of one important customer.

He's probably a college student too, always arriving with notebooks sprawled across his usual table by the window. What's missing though, is the look of crippling stress shown through the dark circles, downturned lips, and dead gazes of college students. Instead, he somehow manages to maintain such a perfect image as if he walked straight out of a magazine—smooth skin, beautiful features, and hair that falls perfectly into place when not hidden under his baseball cap. He's airbrushed and photoshopped down to the last pixel.

But of course, he wasn't perfect. In fact, the first time you'd ever met him had been through an extremely awkward encounter that you'd very much rather forget about. It'd been a day when you were unwillingly put on cash duty, with Hyunjae working away at the drinks that he claimed he made so much better than you did. And then, that's when the cutest guy you'd ever seen had walked in.

"Hi, how are you today?" you'd greeted with a smile. Everything had been prepared for this moment. Your finger had hovered over the buttons on the machine, ready to type in the order as soon as you heard it. Then you'd just grab the right cup and get the name of the cute customer and—

"Hey, I'm Juyeon. Lee Juyeon," he said, as if his name had been exactly what you asked for. Well, he wasn't exactly wrong because you had indeed wanted to know his name but—had he somehow read your mind? "And you are...?" he'd continued with no intention to correct himself.

"Uh—Y/N." An awkward smile. "I'm Y/N."

He'd smiled back. "It's nice to meet you, Y/N."

And that's how it all started.

Lee Juyeon.

Eyes that seem to smile as they disappear when he smiles. Lips that curl up just the slightest at the corners. He's so attractive that you would totally draw him in latte art if he could. Wouldn't those lattes be so thirst-quenching—

"Well it looks like Mr. Vanilla Latte is here again," a teasing voice floats over from by the sink, pulling you out of your thoughts. "It's the second time today too."

You hear the smirk in Hyunjae's voice without even turning, and immediately glance at the door again for the ten-thousandth time this hour. And as he mentioned, you can indeed see the gorgeous man heading into the cafe.

"Second time?"

"He was here when I started my shift," Hyunjae says, drying the blenders and putting them on the rack. "Seemed kind of disappointed when you weren't here, though I'm not sure why he'd rather stare at you when I'm much hotter? But anyway, maybe that's why he's coming in again." He simply shrugs when you shoot him a glare. "Got thirsty."

"Isn't your shift supposed to like," you gesture vaguely, "end, or something?"

"Not for another two hours," Hyunjae raises his eyebrows and clicks his tongue knowingly. "So you want to take the cash so you can talk to lover boy, or do you want to make his drink," he shoots you a look of disgust, "with love, and all that?"

"I'll make the drink," you grumble, giving him the middle finger before planting yourself in front of the section of syrups.

It would give you more time to talk to Juyeon than being at the cash register would, if other customers came in. Besides, maybe you wanted to draw something nice for him.

"Hi, what can I get you?" Hyunjae asks, and you can hear the smirk dripping from his voice. The audacity. If he scares Juyeon off, you'd never forgive him.

"Just the usual, please." Juyeon's eyes flicker over to you for the briefest millisecond, and you'd almost forgotten just how soft yet deep his voice was. "For here."

"I wanted to ask you something about latte art."

"Why, are you planning on drawing your number to give to Mr. Vanilla Latte?" Hyunjae has that ugly smug look on his face again and you fight the urge to smack it off.

You obviously hadn't wanted to ask him anything, but he's literally your last resource. Spending all too many hours on Google browsing through pages of latte art just didn't yield anything that seemed special enough for Juyeon. And you'd already spent too many shifts practicing your latte art in a corner when your asshole barista partner wasn't looking—you'd given the bad ones to Hyunjae's crush for free and said they were from him though. That was probably the only revenge you'd get on him in this lifetime.

"Can you actually do that?" You ask, then roll your eyes when you see him nodding. "No, but I was actually thinking of drawing a heart or something."

Hyunjae snorts, bending over the counter in attempt to conceal his laughter, and failing at it for a good full minute. "You—what?"

You don't bother answering him and frown instead, waiting for him to stop. Someday he'll get a giant coffee stain on one of those white shirts of his and who will be the one laughing then?

"Seriously? Hearts?" he deadpans.

"You have a better idea?"

"Well, your number is probably a better idea." Hyunjae pauses. "But I'll teach you how to do both anyway."

A few hours later, Juyeon was undoubtedly walking through the door as usual, and you were ready to do the thing. It was going to be your phone number floating along the top, with a couple of pretty swirls at the bottom.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yeah, just go give it to him." Hyunjae rolls his eyes. As if it's so easy to do this.

You glare at him. "I don't see you making any moves on Mr. Seoul Fashion Week."

Hyunjae blanches a little at that, and you almost wanted to tell him that you'd been doing his work for him this entire time. He'd done nothing except for feast his eyes on Younghoon each time he'd been here, leaving you to be the one to give Younghoon free items supposedly from your asshole co-worker. At least you could see why Hyunjae liked him: Younghoon was nearly as gorgeous as your own crush, and quite nice too, if those sweet smiles he gave you whenever you gave him one of your messed up drinks meant anything. But most of all, you're simply thankful for his existence because he seems to be the only one who could bring out the non-asshole side of Hyunjae.

"Hey, be grateful," Hyunjae flashes the brightest evil smile that you've seen thus far, and you kind of want to punch him. "I'm letting you win this time by being first to confess to your crush."

"Fuck off," you huff, finally picking up the cup to bring over to Juyeon's table.

Thank goodness Hyunjae isn't there to catch you glancing at your blank phone screen every five seconds when you go home that night. Well, it's not so blank when it's Hyunjae himself who spams you with his useless rambling before you go to block him. So much for saying social media was a disease? But regardless of the notifications or lack thereof, there is no text from Juyeon.

And maybe you'd just been deluding yourself after all, only seeing what you wanted to see. Maybe the bright smile on Juyeon's face was one that he plasters on for the entire world, the light blush on his cheeks was just from the lighting, and the gentle brush of fingers over yours had simply been an accident.

Because why would there be any reason for Juyeon to like you anyway? Why would someone who looks like him possibly be interested in someone like you? And besides, the two of you barely knew anything about each other.

So you push the hope in your chest down and bury it under more pressing issues like the assignment you hadn't even started on. You throw yourself in the pile of work that needs to be done, and don't even check your phone for the rest of the night.

Most of all, you really don't want to go back to work. Ever again.

"So? Did he text you?" Hyunjae corners you the next day when you see him at the coffee shop, bombarding you with questions. Unfortunately. "What did he say? Did you block me just so that you could talk to him? That's so rude, Y/N. You've loved me for way longer. How could you?"

"No, he didn't text me." Your heart sinks with the reminder, cheeks ablaze from the humiliation. "He probably thinks I'm a creep now. I think I'll just... stop trying. If he ever comes back at all."

To your surprise, Hyunjae actually shuts up. The lack of an evil smile on his face indicates that he must have at least some kind of common sense, and for a second, he looks like he feels bad about your situation.

"You know, maybe I'll just quit and find a new job. That way I'll just forget about him, and I also won't have to deal with your ugly face ever again—"

"Shut up, loser. You're in luck," Hyunjae nods towards the door, "because it looks like lover boy is back."

And just as he said, Juyeon is walking through the door like he'd done every day so far.

"Go talk to him when you give him his drink. Maybe he doesn't even have a phone. Or a texting plan. Maybe he's smart enough to know the dangers of social media—"

You groan. "Who, in this age, doesn't have a phone?"

Hyunjae side-eyes you, staying silent.

"Wow, Hyunjae, don't tell me you dropped it in the toilet again." And when he still doesn't give a response, you stare at him. "I blocked you for one night and this is what happens?"

"That's not why my phone isn't working though," he mutters, oddly quiet. "It was from washing it afterwards."

"Wait. You did what?"

"Hey!" Hyunjae frowns at you, "I couldn't just leave it dirty, okay?"

You shake your head at him in disbelief. "I suddenly feel bad for Younghoon for having someone so stupid liking him."

"Shut up and get your ass over there, ugly."

A few minutes later, you bring the latte to Juyeon. There's a normal heart design as the art today since you figured it would be a bit too strange if you suddenly stopped doing the latte art after yesterday. At least that's what you tell yourself—that this is just a normal drink from a barista to a customer, that it isn't because you want to impress him or anything like that.

"Here's your drink." You set it down and try to avoid staring at him for too long. "Enjoy!"

That brilliant smile with the eye crinkles and even teeth this time is what you get from Juyeon in return. "Thanks, Y/N."

"Anytime," you say, trying to mirror his smile instead of thinking of things to say. About that situation. Maybe it'd be best to just forget it even happened and simply brace yourself for Hyunjae's teasing instead. But just before you could turn around and leave, Juyeon clears his throat.

"Hey, um, do you prefer talking to people in person instead of texting?" he suddenly asks, an unreadable expression on his face. "I get it, if that's the case. You know, last week I just watched this movie called The Social Dilemma, and it really opened my eyes to the dangers of social media. I've been trying to lower my screen time ever since."

What?

Are you fucking kidding me? Not you too, is your first reaction. You almost thought you were hearing things because this entire event seemed like a prank that the world was trying to pull on you. It takes a good thirty seconds of your jaw hanging open and brain reeling before any sound could come out of your mouth.

"Oh. Right," you say slowly, "The Social Dilemma. Yup, I've definitely heard of that one." Yeah, a little too frequently for your liking. "And um. I don't mind either way... of communicating?" In fact it would be great—no, excellent— if you could text me back, yes thank you.

"Oh." His face dims into a puzzled frown. "But you told me to stop texting you?"

"Wait, what?" You quickly pull out your phone to see that the notification section still remains blank. Unfortunately just like your love life. "I never even received any texts from you."

Juyeon pulls out his phone as well. "Hmm, is this your number?"

It looks right for the most part. Except where there should be a six, there's an eight instead.

"Ah, that's why." You take his phone when he passes it to you and make the correction. "It was wrong."

"You mean I've been texting the wrong person this entire time?" Juyeon pulls up the text conversation with the wrong number, showing a couple of text bubbles filled with some compliments for your drinks, and—was that a good morning text? Was that a cute sticker? But the string of texts ends with a 'stop texting me' from the ungrateful recipient.

"That's so mean. They could've at least said it was the wrong number." You purposely do not acknowledge the contents of the texts as you feel the blush creeping up your cheeks.

"It's okay." Juyeon shrugs, the frown on his face turning into a soft smile once again. "I'll be sure to text the right one this time."

Getting your number, sending kind messages, and then having to face you after supposedly being told off by you? If you'd thought not getting a text from him was embarrassing, perhaps his situation was even worse. You're thankful that he's persistent or confident enough to come back because if you were him, you would've buried yourself in a hole and would've never crawled out of it.

Maybe the embarrassing part was actually your terrible latte art. Oh, and whatever Hyunjae would have to say about this now.

"Here's your drink!"

It's his usual vanilla latte, with the same heart latte art that you had been drawing for the past while now. For consistency, you tell yourself, and definitely not to impress a certain someone. You just hope that your asshole co-worker never looks at other people's drinks and notices the lack of fancy designs on them.

"Thanks, Y/N," is accompanied with a smile so bright that you're nearly blinded for a brief second.

Thank goodness Hyunjae wasn't working the shift with you this time—he'd said something about needing to get his phone fixed. Deserved, you'd told him. It was karma for everything he's put you through.

When there's a lull and no customers show up for a while, you find your eyes constantly drifting back to Lee Juyeon. His gorgeous side profile, the way the sunlight bounces off his hair so perfectly, the way he seems to glow—it was like a scene in a drama, where the love interest is introduced with romantic music and that dazzling sunlight on their face.

And that's also when you notice Juyeon glancing strangely at the latte. He lifts it, holds it against the natural light streaming through the window, looks at it from one side, then from the top, then the other side. When he finally puts the cup down, his eyes wander over to where you're standing behind the counter.

Was there something wrong with the latte? Maybe there was a bug in it? That would be quite terrible.

You decide to approach the table after about five minutes of hesitating. "Hey, Juyeon. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, everything's fine." His eyes immediately light up when he looks up from the cup to see you sitting across from him. But when he glances back at the latte, the confused expression morphs into pressed lips filled with hesitance. Paired with a furious blush dusting his cheeks. "Well, actually... I wanted to ask you. About your latte art."

Now it's your turn to hesitate because could he be asking about why you keep drawing hearts in his drinks? Had you been reading the whole situation wrong? Maybe those texts had meant nothing after all, and he was just trying to be nice about the latte art number thing. You'd secretly thought it was more progress than Hyunjae had made since Younghoon had thrown out the napkin with Hyunjae's number entirely, but now, Juyeon's words fill you with uncertainty.

"Um, sure, I guess," you say, trying to plaster on a smile despite the way your palms were sweating under the weight of his gaze. "What did you want to ask?"

Juyeon gives you a wry smile before moving the cup across the table until it's right in front of you. He turns it so that your latte art would be facing you, and—

You notice it.

The heart that Hyunjae had painstakingly taught you how to draw. The one that he may or may not have intentionally sabotaged, though you'd have to ask him about it later. Basically, the heart on Juyeon's drink that he'd been staring at for the past five minutes doesn't look like a heart at all.

The drawing is quite deformed. It has increased in length and decreased in width, possibly from the movements of the drink when you'd brought the cup over, and now the bottom corner is not so much a corner anymore when it's much rounder. In short, it looks like a dick.

And to think that a moment ago, you'd thought his question would be about why you were drawing hearts in his drinks. Now it seems like his question would be why you were drawing dicks! In his drinks!

You were so going to kill Hyunjae.

"I-I don't know if this is," Juyeon says slowly and painfully, "intentional? Or like some kind of hint or message?"

"No!" you blurt. "Absolutely not. That would be very out of line. Shit, I'm so sorry about this. Is this what they've all been looking like?"

He bites his lip. Gives you a couple of tiny nods.

"Ugh. This is so embarrassing." Your hands automatically make their way to hide your face as you slide halfway down your seat. Maybe this was all just a dream. Maybe you were still in that hole you dug yourself when he never texted you the last time you tried your hand at latte art. "You should've... told me earlier."

From between your fingers you see an equally pained expression on Juyeon's face. "Well, I—" he hesitates. "I didn't know if it meant something. Or not." The words seem to come out one by one, dragged out and filled with a suffocating silence in between. "And if it did," he mutters, completely avoiding your gaze now, "I was going to say that we should um," he fiddles with the sleeve of his shirt, "maybe take this slowly."

"Um. Yeah. I agree."

"And if it didn't," Juyeon runs a hand through his hair. "Well. I don't mean to criticize your latte art."

"It was supposed to be a heart," you mutter. "Like, I'm so sorry that you had to even see that. Let alone... drink it."

"Nah, don't worry about it. See it every day anyway." Then he balks when you abruptly meet his eyes. "Uh—never mind. I didn't mean to say that."

"Um. Yeah."

Then, silence. Juyeon's gaze bounces between looking out the window and looking at you, while yours alternates between his face and the unappetizing drink on the table.

He clears his throat. "Uh. So you meant to put a heart?"

Was he about to question why you drew hearts in his drinks now? Suddenly, you're no longer sure whether this was better or worse than the previous topic.

But even though this is the most awkward conversation you've ever had, there's still something that tells you not all is lost. That this small mishap doesn't cause the kindness in his eyes to waver in the brief moments he meets your gaze, that it doesn't erase the patience he wears on his face even when his cheeks are covered by the reds of embarrassment. And perhaps the fact that he still texts you despite trying to never lose brain cells from social media again means something more than all the dicks you'd accidentally drawn in his lattes.

So maybe you do take a leap out of the hole you mentally dug yourself.

"Um, yeah," you nod. "And you think we should take it slow?"

A shy smile creeps onto Juyeon's face. "Well, yeah. We should at least go on a date first before we get to... um." He rubs his neck where the blush has begun to spread. "The part that you... unintentionally drew."

"But you do think that we should," you muse. Then add for clarification when his eyes widen, "Go on a date, I mean."

"Only if you want to."

"Of course I do—wait, do you?"

"Haven't I made it obvious enough?" Juyeon ducks, avoiding your eyes while the sheepish grin grows on his lips. "Y/N, I wouldn't have come here twice in a day just to stare at your co-worker."

At the mention of the asshole barista, you sneak a glance over to the counter where Hyunjae is now standing, having finally arrived at work. He gives a cheerful wave at the two of you. And maybe a taunting smirk.

You shrug. "Well, he's constantly bragging about how hot he is."

"Maybe, but just between you and me, isn't he like," Juyeon gestures, "kind of annoying?"

"Right? You don't know how much I've been wanting you to say that."

A teasing smile lights up his face. "You mean you weren't wanting for me to say that we should go on a date?"

"Hey!"

When you leave for your date with Juyeon, all you see is Hyunjae's smug face. But the joke's on him because you don't tell him that Mr. Seoul Fashion Week thinks Hyunjae's been giving him the heart lattes, the ones that turn out looking like dicks. Nor do you tell him that there's a giant coffee stain on the front of his white shirt.

On the date with Juyeon, you finally realize that maybe social media really is making you lose brain cells when Hyunjae starts spamming all of your accounts, freaking out about the dick lattes. And with Juyeon's soft smile and the way his eyes light up, you end up turning your phone off for the night, not needing anything more than what you already had right in front of you.

[blue-labcoat]

Physics is stupid

summary: spencer frequents the bookstore where reader works. one day he offers to help her study for physics.

genre: fluff!

warnings: mutual pining, i guess? that's pretty much it

find my masterlist here

a/n: based off true events, ie me hating physics. i have not yet written the mcat, so sorry if any part of that is wrong

She didn't notice him when he first came in, which maybe wasn't great. Even though her manager had told her that she could study when there were no customers around, she should have probably still noticed when one came in.

Spencer didn't mind, though. He headed to the back of the bookstore, to his favourite section to browse. After about thirty minutes, he headed to the front desk with three books in his arms.

She finally looked up from her textbook to see him standing in front of her.

"Spencer! I'm sorry, I didn't even know anyone was in here! I would have said hi," she apologized, setting down her pencil and pushing her glasses up her nose. "I missed you around here."

Spencer blushed. He wanted to say that he had missed her, too, that he would have come but had been away on a case. When he wasn't on a case, he usually came at least once a week. Although, if he was being honest with himself, getting new books was just a bonus. The real reason he frequented the bookstore was so he could see y/n. He had even told Morgan about her: how she loved reading, and always wore big cozy sweaters and converse, and had crazy, curly hair that somehow always seemed to frame her face perfectly.

"Oh, I was out of town," he explained. "What are you studying for?"

"Ugh, physics. I hate physics, and I'm terrible at it, and I haven't taken it since my first year. But," she sighed, "I am writing the MCAT in two months and twelve days, and I need to get my scores up. It's just this stupid section, the other three are fine!"

"You're writing the MCAT?" Spencer replied dumbly. For some reason, it hadn't crossed his mind to consider that she didn't just spend all of her time working in the bookstore. Then again, he was only ever here on the same days, at the same times.

"Yeah. Like I said, the other three are fine! I'm a biochem major, so that checks off a whole section and a half, basically. Then there's critical analysis, which is also fine. The last section is, like, psychology, and behaviour, which I thought would be the hardest for me, but apparently not," she huffed, frowning down at her notes.

"I could help you, if you wanted." The words slipped out of his mouth before he could even think about what he was saying. She looked back up at him.

"Are you good at physics?"

"Well, none of my degrees are in physics. But I'm pretty sure I know enough to help, and one of my PhD's is engineering, which is pretty physics-heavy."

"Wait, you have PhDs? As in, more than one?"

He pressed his lips together and nodded. "Three, actually. And two BAs, plus the one I'm working on."

"Oh my god, I feel so stupid. Complaining about my little kinematics problems to the guy that has five degrees."

"Hey, don't feel stupid. I'd be happy to help, if... if that was something you wanted," he trailed off, suddenly embarrassed. What was he doing offering to help her study? He was just a regular at the bookstore, it wasn't like they were friends.

"Are you serious? Because that would actually be really helpful." She smiled shyly.

"Yeah! I - I'm out of the city a lot, for work, but I have the rest of the day off, if you're not busy? But, if you are, you can just text me and maybe we can meet up another day, or-"

"I'm free today! Well," she checked her watch quickly. "In twenty minutes. There's a great cafe just down the street, if you don't mind waiting for me?"

"I don't mind! I'll just go pick out a few more books. Can I leave these here?" He said, gesturing at the books he had already brought to the counter. She nodded and smiled.

Twenty-one minutes later, the pair left the shop with Spencer's books.

"So, what is it that you do for work that requires you to travel so often?" She asked him, making conversation.

"Oh, I work for the Behavioural Analysis Unit at the FBI," he replied nonchalantly.

"Are you serious? You're an FBI agent?"

"Well, a profiler. I did do the training and everything, but they ultimately had to make exceptions to allow me in the field. I'm not exactly the most, uh, physically fit." He chuckled nervously.

"Who would have thought? I can't believe you've been coming to the store for months, and I didn't even know you were a doctor and an FBI agent until today!"

"Well, then I guess we're even, because I didn't know you wanted to go to medical school until today, either."

When they arrived at the cafe, Spencer insisted on paying for y/n's drink.

"You should have let me pay for yours," she argued as they sat down. "It's the least I could do. You practically supplement half my paycheque, with all the books you buy."

He felt himself blushing for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon.

"So, where are you planning on applying to med school?" He asked, changing the subject.

"Well, I won't be applying until next year, but my top choice is Johns Hopkins because they have a really great paediatrics residency program. But I'm also applying to Columbia, Dartmouth, NYU and Stanford."

"Wow, that's really impressive. So, you want to be a paediatrician, then?"

"Yes!" She beamed. "I mean, I'm open to other specialties if I find something that I like better. But I really love working with kids, so I'm mostly set on paediatrics."

Spencer watched her go on about why she wanted to be a doctor. She spoke animatedly, and waved her hands around while she was talking. The thing he was most enchanted with, however, were her eyes. They lit up while she was talking about something she was passionate about, and they sparkled happily behind her large-framed glasses.

The two of them sat at their table for hours, getting to know each other better. Y/n had always admired Spencer when he shopped at the store, always knew when to expect him there. She'd always had an idea of how smart he was, based on the books he would buy and the speed at which he got through them before he was back, buying more.

However, she had never quite admired the fullness of his lips before, or the length of his fingers and the way he talked with his hands. She'd never expected such a depth of knowledge in the most niche interests, but was pleasantly surprised by everything he knew.

At 7:45, one of the baristas came over to let them know that the cafe was closing in fifteen minutes. Spencer looked down at his watch, eyes widening.

"I'm so sorry, we didn't even start with your physics stuff! I don't know how we lost track of the time," he exclaimed.

"That's quite alright, Dr Reid," she smiled. "Now I have an excuse to buy you a coffee, and you have an excuse to call me." She scribbled her phone number down on a napkin and handed it to him. "I'll see you soon?"

"Y-yeah, I'd like that," he said softly, looking down at the napkin. The note was scrawled in loopy handwriting that was a little messy, but somehow also neat.

Y/n, XXX-XXX-XXXX :)

"Bye, Spencer." She gave him one last smile before grabbing her backpack and heading out.

"Bye, y/n."

---

Over the next two months, Spencer and y/n hung out more and more frequently. At first, he did help her study, but as they got to know each other better, she tended not to do much studying whenever they were together.

Y/n began to just text or call him when she needed help with a physics problem, so that when they did spend time together, their time wasn't wasted with something as tedious as studying. It worked out well anyways - when he was on a case, she could just text him.

"Your exam's the 27th, right?" Spencer asked one night as they were playing chess at his apartment.

"Yup," y/n nodded grimly. "Nine days."

"Are you feeling ready, at least?"

"I think so. I mean, I'm really nervous about it. This is the most important exam so far in my life, and everyone keeps telling me that grades aren't everything, but... they kind of are, at least when you're applying to medical schools. But overall, I'm happy with my practice test scores, and I think I know what I need to know to do well."

"That's good. It's too bad you won't have too much downtime between the exam and heading back for fall semester."

"Well, I kind of planned it like that. So that I could work during the summer and get ready, and not be bogged down with schoolwork and work-work, on top of studying. Plus, I still had fun this summer. With you," she ended quietly, pink tinging her cheeks.

It would have been evident to anyone who saw the two of them that they had feelings for one another. Evident to anyone who saw the way Spencer looked at her like she hung the moon. Evident to anyone who saw the way she laughed at his geeky jokes, and the way he took joy in making her laugh. Evident to everyone except them.

Y/n knew, deep down, that she had feelings for Spencer. But she was not going to risk her emotional wellbeing for something as silly as a boy right before the most important test of her life. Even if it was messy-haired, converse-wearing, genius boy. She pushed her feelings all the way down until she could focus on something else.

Spencer was fully aware that he liked y/n. In fact, thoughts of her occupied his mind more often than he would have liked, but he was positive that there was no way she could ever feel the same about him. He had done the math himself: rationally speaking, finding out whether or not she felt the same way about him was not worth risking their friendship. Emotionally speaking, however - that was a different story.

---

The day of the exam, she woke up to a text from Spencer. She figured he must have been called in for a case, because it was 5:45 and there was no way he would have been up that early normally.

Spencer: Good morning! I just wanted to wish you luck, not that you'll need it. You have worked so hard for this, and I know you'll do fantastic! If you want, call me after and let me know how it went

Y/n: Thanks Spence! I'll call you later :)

The exam started at 8:00, and she was there at 7:15, prepared with snacks, several water bottles, and a few flashcards for a brief review. At 8:00 on the dot, the exam started.

Spencer had her on his mind all day. The exam was seven and a half hours long and he knew not to expect to hear from her until around 4:00, but he was antsy and distracted.

"What's got you all jumpy?" Asked Morgan when Spencer checked his watch for the seventh time in thirty minutes.

"I, uhm... I'm just waiting for some news. From a friend."

"Must be some news," commented Morgan. "How many more times are you going to check your watch?" He patted Reid on the back, and headed back to his desk chuckling.

Just after 3:30, the exam was over. Y/n was exhausted, mentally and physically. Once she got in her car, she called Spencer.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me. Don't you have caller ID?"

"I- it doesn't matter. How did it go? How are you feeling?"

"It was fine. Hard. I think I did okay, though. I'm absolutely drained, I'm just looking forward to relaxing."

"I bet. Are you on your way back now?"

"I'm just in the parking lot, I'm leaving right away."

"Okay, well I'm glad it went well. Talk later?"

She hummed in agreement, and hung up the phone, then put on her favourite playlist and pulled out of the parking spot.

Back at the FBI, Spencer rushed up to Hotch's office.

"Hotch? I need to leave early, is that okay? Like, right now?"

Hotch looked up from his desk. "Of course. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I just have somewhere to be," shouted Spencer, already running down the stairs. He wanted to surprise her when she got back to her apartment.

On his way, he picked up sandwiches and drinks from the cafe where they had first hung out together. He was nearly at her apartment when he remembered that she loved lilies, so he stopped at a flower vendor to get a bouquet.

He had just gotten up to her apartment and was waiting outside the door when she arrived.

"Spencer! What are you doing here? I thought you guys were on a case?"

"I- no? Did I tell you that we were?" He asked, confused.

"No, I just thought... you texted me so early this morning, I just assumed that you were awake because you'd been called in."

"Oh, no, I just wanted to make sure I was awake to text you good luck!" He explained. "I, uh, I brought you food, and tea, and also flowers." He gestured to the bouquet and takeout bags.

"Spence, you're the sweetest!" She said, accepting the bouquet of lilies. "Lilies are my favourite, I- thank you." She looked up at him and smiled.

"So, how long until the results come out?" Spencer asked when they were finished eating.

"A whole month. Can you even believe that?" She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Honestly, the anticipation of not knowing how you did is worse than studying and writing the exam itself."

"Well, considering the amount of people that write the exam on any given test day, as well as the length of the exam and the nature of the questions, a month is actually quite reasonable. But," he continued when he saw the look on her face, "it's also quite reasonable to be frustrated with the amount of time it takes to find out how you did on an important exam."

"That's better," she teased, smiling. "Did you want to stay a little longer? We could watch Star Trek?"

"Sure," Spencer agreed, and the two of them moved to the couch. Y/n grabbed a blanket to throw over the two of them, even though it was August and it wasn't really needed. Things were just cozier when there was a blanket involved. Y/n sat directly next to Spencer, with their thighs pressed together. They weren't exactly cuddling, but the domesticity of it was nearly enough to convince Spencer to tell her how he felt.

As he was contemplating it, he felt her head lull against his shoulder, and his heart swelled. He was going to do it. He twisted his neck to look down at her, only to find that she had fallen asleep. It was no wonder - she'd been awake since before six o'clock, and had been writing an exam the entire day. Still, he knew that it was unlikely that he'd regain the confidence to tell her again any time soon.

They stayed like that for hours - Spencer was careful not to move too much so that he wouldn't wake her. Around 9:00, however, he realized that he couldn't just stay on her couch all night. He carefully shifted y/n over so that she was sitting upright again, then shook her gently to wake her.

"Y/n? I'm going to go home now, I just thought you might want to move to your bed," he spoke gently as her eyes fluttered open.

"Oh, shoot, did I fall asleep? What time is it?" She mumbled groggily.

"It's just past nine. C'mon, I'll help you to your bed." He leant down and she wrapped her arms around his neck so that he could pull her off the couch. She shuffled to her room, with him following hesitantly behind. He didn't want her to feel like he was invading her personal space.

"Thanks for coming, Spencer," she said as she crawled under the covers. He was standing nervously in the doorway of her bedroom, unsure of whether he should enter or not. He looked around the room, noticing the wall of bookshelves, the plants hanging from the ceiling, and the candles on her dresser. It was so y/n that he almost couldn't stand it.

"Are you going to say goodnight?" She asked him, propping herself up slightly to look at him.

"Oh! Uh, yes," he stuttered out. "Well, goodnight, y/n."

"Spencer?" She asked. Something in her voice invited him further into the room, and he sat on the edge of her bed, looking down at her.

"Yeah?"

"I- do you think we could still hang out even though the exam is over? I know you just offered to help me with physics, but I really... I really like spending time with you. Especially when physics isn't involved, because physics is stupid."

"Well, it's not completely stupid. If it weren't for physics, we would have never become friends," he reminded her. "But, of course we can still hang out. I still have a lot to teach you about chess, and I want to know about your MCAT results, and you promised that you'd teach me how to make your chocolate chip cookies."

He smiled down at her, trying to commit to memory how she looked with her hair fanned out across the pillow, beaming at him. They locked eyes, and suddenly the atmosphere in the room shifted.

Y/n's eyes darted down to Spencer's lips and back up to his eyes. Without thinking about it, she reached up to pull his face down to hers so she could kiss him.

At first, he was shocked, but he quickly leant into the kiss with a passionate urgency. He slid one hand underneath her neck, and the other under her back so that he could pull her back into a sitting position. He finally pulled away, gasping for air, and immediately thought that he'd never seen anything so beautiful as her, breathless, with kiss-swollen lips. She laughed nervously as he looked at her with a silly grin on his face.

"Y/n, I- I really like you. Like, a lot," he finally found the courage to say. "I seem to have, um, lost some of my vocabulary at the moment, or I'd tell you exactly why, but-"

She cut him off with another kiss before he could start rambling.

"I really, really like you too, Spencer."

"Do you think I could take you out? On a date?"

"I'd really like that," she replied, smiling at him.

---

On September 26, Spencer was called in on a case.

"Promise you'll call as soon as you get the results?" He asked as he was leaving y/n's apartment with his go-bag.

"Yes, I promise! Now, you better get going or you're going to be late yet again, and your friends will start to become suspicious."

"Well, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if they knew about you. I mean, I do want you to meet them sometime, it's just that-"

"Spencer! We can talk about this when you get back. Go!"

He leaned in to give her one last peck on the cheek, then rushed out.

The next day, he was standing in front of a map at the local police precinct, explaining to Emily and Morgan why a recent murder was unlikely to be related to the ones they were consulting on, when his phone rang.

"Sorry, guys, I have to take this," he told them when he noticed the caller ID. "Hello? Did you hear?" He answered the phone.

"524!!!" She screeched into the phone.

"Oh my god, y/n, that's phenomenal! I'm so proud of you!" He replied, his face breaking out in a smile. "I'm so sorry I can't be there to celebrate with you, but I promise we'll do something as soon as I get back, okay?"

"Of course, don't apologize! I can't wait to see you," she said, smiling and twirling around her living room. "I know you're probably busy, but I just wanted to let you know."

"No, I'm glad you called! I do have to go, but I'll call you when I get back to the hotel tonight, okay? Okay, bye." He hung up the phone, and turned back to Emily and Morgan with a grin still on his face.

"Okay, I'll ask. What was that about?" Asked Morgan.

"That was, um, my girlfriend y/n. She just got her results back from the MCAT and I told her to call me when she heard," he explained.

"Hold up," Emily said. "You have a girlfriend? How come you've never told us about her?"

"You never asked," he said simply.

"Wait a minute. y/n, like from the bookstore?" Morgan questioned. Spencer nodded in response, smiling again at the thought of her. "My man! How long has this been going on for?"

"Well, it started when she needed help with physics, and that was on June 16. But I didn't tell her how I felt until August 27. And we went on our first date on August 30."

"Aw, Reid, that's great," said Emily genuinely. "Are we going to get to meet her?"

"At some point, I guess. But we should probably get back to work, for now."

A few days later, they were back home.

"Hey, Reid, why don't you come for drinks with us? And bring y/n?" Emily suggested as they were all leaving the office.

"Oh, well, she might be busy. But I'll call and ask."

She wasn't busy, and agreed happily to meet Spencer at the bar. The rest of the team was already there when she arrived. Spencer couldn't have been happier to see her. He stood up to pull her in for a big hug as soon as she got there.

"I'm so happy for you," he whispered in her ear. She pulled back and beamed at him, then turned her attention to the table.

"Hi, everyone, I'm y/n," she introduced herself. "It's so nice to meet you all, Spencer's told me a lot about you guys."

The couple sat down at the booth, and y/n immediately started to get along with the team.

As he watched her giggle with Emily and Penelope, Spencer couldn't have been more glad that physics was stupid.

[manonblaqkbeak]

Among the Stacks

Back for Day 4-Librarians/Libraries, which I was super thrilled to see on the list, since I’m a certified library assistant and librarian technician and a big advocate for libraries in general and how important they are to society for a number of reasons!!!

This is just some wholesome fluff, most of these fics are (bc thats all i write lol) but i am preparing for a lil angst on the 10th ;)

Hope you all enjoy! :)

cw: none

1.5k words

There were many reasons why Aelin loved being a librarian technician and working at Orynth Public Library (of course there were reasons she very much disliked it, but the positives outweighed the negatives). The ever present scent of books was one, and the fact that she saved a ridiculous amount of money from borrowing books instead of buying them, as purchasing them became close to an addiction. The regular patrons that visited. Helping people with creating resumes and look for jobs because they couldn't afford laptops or computers at home, and looking for jobs on phones was annoying.

The overflowing suggestion box filled with ideas for books and ways to make the library more homely. Her comfortable office chair and her favourite cafe owned by a high school friend right around the corner, and the fact that Nesryn gave her discounts because she had set her up with her now-fiance Sartaq.

The laughter of babies and young children when it was story-time and the drawings that they created. The people that came to the library just to be somewhere else without feeling the pressure of having to spend money. The people that came sorely for the free WiFi and power-boards to charge their phones.

Working with her childhood friend and pseudo-sister Elide. And one very handsome and kind construction worker, Rowan Whitethorn.

Elide said that Aelin was in love with Rowan, with how she gushed over how pretty and intelligent he was, but Aelin denied that. It would be absurd to be in love with him. She just really liked him.

The only problem was she hadn't had the chance to ask him out on a date. She only saw him when he came in the library, and it was inappropriate to ask someone out while at work. There was also the fact that while he came here weekly, she wasn't sure if he was single, because surely someone that handsome had to be with someone.

But he hadn't mentioned any partners and Aelin didn't spot a ring, either on his finger or on a chain around his neck, but it still made Aelin hesitate.

Elide had told Aelin many times that when Rowan was here, he made 'heart eyes' when Aelin's back was turned. Aelin scoffed at the notion, but her heart flipped at that—Elide was freakishly observant and knew how to read people to a minuscule level.

Aelin was in the middle of covering the latest hardbacks, her mind completely focused on the task, when Elide said, typing away, “It's eleven A.M.”

Aelin looked at the large clock behind her and nodded. “That it is.”

A small smile was on Elide's lips, her dark eyes bright. “Just thought I'd let you know. Since a certain someone usually comes in around eleven-fifteen on Saturdays if he hasn't been here during the week.”

Elide could sometimes be as subtle as a brick to the head. Aelin finished the last book and cleaned her hands off with the hand sanitiser. She could feel her friends dark stare at the back of her head.

“I'm aware, thank you,” was all Aelin said.

If Aelin didn't ask Rowan out soon, Elide was going to do it for her—no matter how often Aelin repeated about the inappropriate aspect of it all.

Elide thought that was bullshit.

Telling her friend that she was going to put these books on the 'New Releases' shelf, Aelin once again focused on her task, straightening up other books as she went.

She had just finished up when a deep voice said behind her, “Good morning, Aelin.”

Smiling, she turned. “Good morning, Rowan.” She spotted his current read in his large hands. “How's the book going?”

He returned her smile. “Great. I was wondering if you had the sequel?”

“We should do, just follow me.” They had their usual conversations about their week, with Rowan telling her how a fellow worker had injured himself and how it had turned the whole production upside down. Apparently, his site manager was sweating buckets the entire time, fretting about paperwork more than anything else.

Aelin didn't envy his work at all. While there were chances for Aelin or others to hurt themselves in the library, the worst that had happened to Aelin in all her years here was a bruised foot after dropping a dictionary and the rare scolding she had received from her boss, Glennis, for not wearing the proper footwear. Her bruised foot was nothing compared to the torture of having to watch an hour long video about work health and safety the following morning.

As Aelin found the sequel, they stayed hidden among the stacks, talking about everything and nothing, with Aelin temporarily forgetting that she was at work and had other duties to attend to.

Because it was hard to remember what those duties were when she got lost in his dark green eyes. Especially when they trailed down the tattoo that started at his temple and down his neck, to his fingertips.

Aelin had never really been a fan about facial tattoos, but she really liked his. It suited him.

However, she was abruptly reminded of her job when she heard a young voice call out her name. It was one of her regular patrons, Evangeline, who was always here after school and on Saturdays tackling her homework and assignments. Her foster parents were negligent and didn't think that she needed a laptop to do her school work, since they didn't back in the “old days”, completely unaware that it was the digital age and laptops and computers were vital to get the work done.

Aelin excused herself, finding Evangeline flustered at her favourite spot, the desktop frozen and unaware of what to do. It was hard not to crush the girl into a hug when Aelin saw tears in her eyes, scared that she was going to get into trouble.

“Don't worry,” Aelin told the girl kindly, “it'll be okay. Sometimes computers get grumpy and have temper tantrums but I just know the right way to fix it.”

Unaware that Rowan left the stacks, she missed his soft smile as he watched her work her magic, instructing Evangeline step by step what to do if it happened again.

He made his way to the front desk, where Elide was still furiously typing away, muttering underneath her breath about cataloging.

Deciding that it would best to leave her to it and use the self-serve machine, Elide cleared her throat, catching his attention, and said, “Aelin's single.”

Elide was sick of watching them dance around each other. She understood Aelin's hesitancy, she did, but if she had to watch them flutter their eyes at each other one more time, she was going to lose it.

And Elide was aware that Rowan was aware of why Aelin hadn't asked him out, and that he didn't want to appear inappropriate and ask Aelin out while she was at work. Elide respected for it, truthfully.

So Elide had decided to do it herself, inappropriateness be damned.

Rowan blinked, and blinked again, clearly unsure what to say or do. He came back over to her desk, tattooed hand striking against the plain book cover.

But he recollected himself, and asked, “Does she suffer from hay-fever?”

“No. And once she's done helping Evangeline over there, she'll be going to her favourite cafe for her late morning caffeine fix.”

Rowan nodded, his mind already on what flowers he would buy for her. She had a small Kingsflame tattoo on her wrist and told him it was her favourite flower when he asked her about it weeks ago. “Thank you, Elide.”

Elide simply smiled and reached for his book as Aelin came around, talking to the both of them, when Rowan asked if they knew of any good cafes.

It was good that he was finally taking that step, but Elide had to stop herself from laughing at how completely unsubtle the question was. Elide was already prepared for when Aelin would ask her later what happened between them.

But Aelin smiled and told him of her favourite place and they left together.

X X X X X X

Aelin ordered her usual, a caramel macchiato with two shots, and Rowan ordered a flat white with soy milk (he suffered from lactose intolerance, which Aelin would hate if that was her, because she had once tried lactose free chocolate and it was dreadful).

Rowan pulled out her chair when they sat out front, taking a seat across from her. Her heart flipped at the sweet gesture.

“I was wondering,” he started off with, his eyes staring unflinchingly into hers, “if you'd like to go out on a date sometime?”

Aelin didn't even think twice before accepting and they planned it out right there, exchanging numbers at the end of it. He walked her back to the library, a small smile on both their lips.

From the smile that Elide gave her when she returned, Aelin knew she was involved—and not at all surprised—and at that moment, Aelin was very happy to have a friend like Elide.

And for her date that very night with Rowan.

[retrievablememories]

matched | ten (m)

title: matched pairing: alien!ten x black!reader genre: sci-fi, angst, fluff, romance, smut summary: the quest for love leads you to a new dating app with a slight twist—and straight into the inbox of someone who’s light-years out of your usual dating pool. word count: 9.7k warnings: familial conflict, strained parental relationship, mentions of cheating, prejudice/discrimination based on species, body modifications/alien biology, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), dom!ten, photography during sex, cumshot, squirting, some spanking a/n: as always, i lose all impulse control whenever i get a ten request so i have finished this sooner than i expected

i decided to lean more into the romance plotline than stress too much over the realism of the science-fiction elements with this fic, so there are some inaccuracies/impossibilities...but that’s fiction for you 🙃

AM 2074 (After Migration)

You are lonely.

Your last breakup did not end well, to say the least, and you haven’t dated for a while since then. It seemed like a smart move—a safe one—to shun all romantic relationships until you felt ready again. At the beginning, you were glad to be alone for a while, to regroup and rediscover yourself worrying about another person’s opinions on everything you did. To not have to deal with someone else’s drama.

The toll of not having companionship is gradually getting to you, though. Even if your last relationship was a mess more often than it wasn’t, you still long for those good moments, like going on night dates on the weekends and sharing pillowtalk into long hours of the early morning. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed those things until all the emotions of it crashed down on you at once.

Your friend Malika claims to have a solution for your loneliness. Now, sitting at this outdoor cafe, you’re simultaneously eager and hesitant to hear what she has to propose, knowing her track record for silly plots.

With twinkling eyes, she looks at you and says, “You should try a dating app.” She clasps her hands together and puts them on the table like she’s made a grand announcement. You absorb her words for a few moments, looking out at the street across from you and watching cars—some hovering above the asphalt, some driven autonomously, and many still with human drivers—pass by.

You eventually sigh, your shoulders slumping. “That’s the big solution you called me out here for? People have been using dating apps for decades, that’s nothing new.”

“Exactly! The fact that they’re still popular even in 2074 is proof that they work, Y/N. You can put yourself out there and talk to dozens of guys without even meeting them in person. If one connection doesn’t work out, you don’t have anything to lose, and you don’t have to see the guy ever again.”

“Maybe I’ll lose my sweet time and patience during the process, though.”

Malika shakes her head and types something into her hologram pad, then holds it up for you to see. The hologram displays a dating app called matched—it reminds you of what Tinder was supposedly like before it became eclipsed by more advanced platforms, though that happened years before you were even born. “This one is kinda new, but it’s gotten popular fast and has good success rates. I’ve tried it before and met some nice guys. Give it at least one chance before you hate on it.”

“Ugh, I don’t know...there are always so many weirdos hanging out on those apps. What if I meet someone who keeps a collection of severed alien tentacles in an icebox in their house? Like that one guy who showed up on the news?”

“...Really?” Malika rolls her eyes. “You’re so dramatic. Stop getting in your own way and just take a risk for once.”

You shake your head at her optimism. “I’ll do it because I know you won’t leave me alone about it, but don’t expect me to find some great love story on this app.”

--

Once you download the app and start making an account, it becomes pretty obvious that this isn’t just a regular dating platform.

Choosing your gender and age preferences is normal enough, and you pass through those screens quickly until you get to one that gives you two new options.

➤ Species Preference ❐ Human ❐ Extraterrestrial

Whoa. Aliens? An alien-friendly dating app?

You weren’t overly familiar with the mechanics of dating apps, and you certainly didn’t consider that ones allowing aliens might’ve existed until now. It had been 15 years since the first contact with aliens was established, and a little less than a decade had passed since aliens began migrating to Earth and taking up permanent residence—and vice versa.

Humans had little problem with accepting aliens’ technological adaptations and claiming them as their own, though they were far less welcoming of the aliens themselves. That resulted in strained interactions between the two species, with aliens trying their best to assimilate and humans questioning their every motive. As far as personal relationships went, interspecies mingling between humans and extraterrestrials was still fairly uncommon—something that only people who were considered to be on the fringes of society participated in. There were “normal citizens of society” who built relationships with aliens, but many of them also kept it solely as a kink or fetish to be done only in the dark.

You decide to check both options. It feels a little scary, like diving headfirst into the unknown, but you are open to it either way. You’ve interacted with aliens before, both as kind acquaintances and near strangers, and they’ve always been relatively normal in the grand scheme of things—beings trying to survive and make a life for themselves like anyone else. Certainly not plotting how to take over Earth as many people have speculated. If they really wanted to, they possess the technology to have done that ten times over already.

You take a while trying to come up with a clever bio and spend an even longer time mulling over which pictures of yourself to choose, but you eventually complete your profile.

The first few matches you make are not very successful.

Whether it’s human guys feeding you terrible pickup lines or alien guys who can’t make it past the language barrier—or who ask you to move back with them to their home planet after two days of talking—you don’t see any potential love interests during your first two weeks of using the app. 

You’re not sure what kind of skills Malika used to make multiple good matches, but maybe you need to interrogate her so you can sharpen your own. So you decide to do exactly that.

“Don’t give up on it just yet. Just be yourself—which also means not being afraid to cuss someone out if they come at you crazy. Some of these dudes lowkey like the mean girl shit, though, which is kinda weird.” Malika speaks from the shimmering translucent mirage of your hologram pad as you walk through the park one afternoon. She couldn’t make it out to meet you today, but you managed to snatch a moment to talk to her even if it couldn’t be face-to-face. “You probably shouldn’t expect to find a boyfriend in the first few days—”

“Girl, I don't think anyone was expecting that. Duh.”

“I’m saying, just give it time!”

“Okay, but listen. You didn’t tell me it’s also for aliens. Have you dated one before? You never told me!” You lower your voice then, not wanting anyone nearby to eavesdrop on your conversation and hear that part. You feel kinda bad for even thinking that way, but it’s hard to shake the stigma associated with interacting with aliens.

“Yes, and it was the best sex I ever had, but maybe I’ll tell you about that later.”

“Sis. Don’t withhold tea from me!”

“Someday when you’re not literally standing in the middle of the park, okay?” Malika shakes her head, smiling.

“Don’t forget about it, either.”

“I won’t. And you know what to do if you find a guy. I want to be the first to know!”

“Sure, sure. I wouldn’t hold my breath on it, though.”

You decide to spend some more time on the app after that conversation instead of just deleting it like you’d planned to initially. And one day, you get another new match that catches your eye out of the many others.

“Ten? Like the number…?” Besides the interesting name, you immediately see that he’s an extraterrestrial. From the Sommu race, as it says in his bio.

You click on his profile.

You’re a little surprised by how pretty he is, which isn’t to say the other aliens you matched with were all hideous. But he doesn’t have tentacles coming out of his face or two sets of eyes, either. The most noticeable thing about his alienness is his blue skin.

“Likes...dancing, art, music, okay so we have an artist type here...dislikes...fruit. Huh. That’s...interesting.”

The pictures of him on his profile are all deliberately artistic, as in they aren’t just some half-baked selfies he took with a hologram pad. You grow increasingly curious. It’s safe to say he’s either super into himself or just appreciates the art of good photography, and you figure there’s only one way to find out. You decide to take the first step and message him.

➤ Nice pictures :) 

You don’t know when or if you’ll get a message back, since he’s not online when you send it, so you try not to get your hopes up too much. Maybe you should’ve tried to come up with something more cool and funny—nice pictures?—but you try to remember Malika’s advice and roll your eyes to yourself. There’s no point in getting stressed over a dude you don’t even know yet.

You eventually get a reply back from Ten.

➤ thank you 🙏 are you into photography too? you have talent for taking beautiful photos 

You giggle quietly to yourself; another line, but it’s definitely one of the tamer ones you’ve received. Why not see where this one goes?

The first conversation you have consists mostly of the regular getting-to-know-you talk, such as your personal interests and favorite things. You get him to talk more about his photography hobby, which he’s eager to tell you all about—as well as his penchant for art.

To your optimism, you and Ten quickly get comfortable with each other. You soon forget about all the other potential matches you have, but those don't matter much to you anymore. So far, you’ve connected the most successfully with Ten, which means you’re more than glad to stop spending your time reading boring messages from guys who’ve only pretended to have things in common with you.

Things go so well, in fact, that he asks you to meet in person not long after you begin talking to each other.

For your first meetup, you decide to meet at a park nearby—the same one you’d been walking through the day you were talking to Malika about that very dating app. You and Ten have talked through the hologram pad on multiple occasions, so you’re more reassured that you’re not starting from scratch with some faceless being. Still, the thrill of seeing each other in person for the first time is undeniable.

“Y/N?” You turn your head at the sound of your name, and you see Ten walking towards you.

“Ten!” You give him a smile, waving at him. You feel a little more nervous than you usually would on a date, though you can’t tell if it’s the good kind of nervousness. You mostly chalk it up to not having been out with anyone in a while.

Ten’s just as pretty up close as he was in the photos and on camera, if not even more attractive; he’s breathtaking in the light of the sun. His hair is styled nicely, meticulously-place strands curling over his forehead, and his clothes perfectly outline his slim body. He looks pleased to see you, his lips curving into a coy smile.

“You could’ve given me a warning,” he says as he outstretches his arms to you. You hug him, but not without a questioning glance on your face. He is warm and smells good, like juniper, which almost makes you forget about your question.

“Warned you about what?”

“How you’re even more beautiful in person.” He says this at your ear before pulling away, and it makes the back of your neck bloom with heat.

“Oh, you’re laying it on thick.” You giggle nervously, shifting on your feet.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks.

“Yes, let’s go!”

You leave the park to go to an aquarium nearby, which is the biggest one in the city. You find out quickly that Ten is easily fascinated by the wide range of creatures there. Despite living on Earth for a few years now, he hasn’t seen a lot of them until now.

You walk through the blue-lit hallways together, surrounded by water everywhere you turn. You observe the different animals up close and from far away, reading information about them from the signs beside their tanks.

“What the hell is that?” Ten says through laughter, looking at the squished-up mouth of a stingray as it floats in front of the glass, baring its pale underside to you both.

“It’s a stingray!”

He scrunches his nose up. “It’s ugly. But kinda cute, too…”

You both end up staying at the aquarium longer than you expected, with Ten wanting to see practically every animal they had on display; plus, you got to see some you weren’t familiar with before either.

After visiting the aquarium, you go downtown—which is otherwise known as food truck central, where you can get pretty much anything you’re craving. This area is always quite busy this time of evening, especially on the weekends. Food in hand, you and Ten end up walking through a few of the quieter back streets where there’s not as many people—streets where the closely-packed buildings give way to the grassy yards and paved roads of nearby neighborhoods.

“Should we talk about our families now, or is it too soon?” you say jokingly. “You know, that seems to be the only thing we haven’t mentioned after talking about everything else under the sun.” You’re not entirely sure why you bring this up while knowing your own relationship with your parents isn’t great, but you are curious to hear about Ten’s family.

“I don’t really know mine,” he replies.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You feel a little bad about it, thinking there was definitely a reason why he never mentioned the topic.

Ten looks confused for a moment before shaking his head. “No, it’s not like that. Sommu never form close bonds with their parents or siblings.”

You give him a curious look. “Why not?”

“Well, we aren’t born or raised the human way,” he explains. “Our parents have a bunch of us at once, raise us for the first couple of years, and then go off to reproduce again and continue the population.”

You’re startled at that. “Just for a few years? How do you survive?”

“We age faster...both physically and mentally. We become independent around 4 or 5 years old, and we can live without our parents.”

“That’s...definitely very different.” You try to wrap your mind around that information, though it’s difficult. Even with your not-so-healthy relationship with your parents, you couldn’t imagine having no family whatsoever at such a young age. You also can’t even begin to comprehend what it’d look like to be taking care of yourself at only 5 years old, fast aging or not. “But, you said a bunch at once...how is that possible?”

“We are formed inside things like eggs. It’s not like your form of childbirth. See?” And you become flustered when he lifts his shirt up to show his lack of a belly button, right there in the middle of the street.

“Uh, wow.”

“The human concepts of ‘family’ and ‘relationships’ are...very new to me.” He seems a little embarrassed to admit this. “That’s why I, um, joined a dating app, for more experience...I was told I need to learn to be more…” He searches for the word. “Im...pertinent?”

“...Empathetic?”

“Yeah, that.”

“So, did that come from a previous partner, or…?”

“Yeah, I’ve had two relationships since I’ve been here.” He seems wistful now, maybe a little sad. “They didn’t work out well. Maybe we were too different.” Before the mood can shift too far into negativity, Ten turns to you with a soft smile. “But maybe that’s not the kind of thing you want to hear while we’re on a date.”

You shake your head and smile. “I don’t mind, it’s interesting to know about.” More than interesting. You want to ask him a hundred more things about what his life was like when he first got to Earth. “Anyway, you can never have too many new starts in life. Let’s enjoy this one.”

--

At the end of your date, Ten walks with you back to your place. It’s almost midnight at this point, with you both walking all the way back from downtown. You’d drawn more than a few skeptical stares over the course of the day, but you both did your best to ignore those and just focus on each other.

“I’m really glad we got to go out today, it was fun,” you say, hugging your arms to yourself to shield against the cool spring breeze.

“I think I haven’t had that much fun in a while,” he agrees. Ten smiles wide then, the tip of his tongue sticking out from between his teeth, and you have to do a double take. 

“What—”

“Oh, that. Sometimes I forget everyone doesn’t have this...” And when he sticks his tongue out, you see clearly now that it’s split halfway down the middle. Sort of like how a snake’s would be. “D’you like it?” His expression is wicked when he asks this, and a strange heat sweeps through your body.

“Wow.” You cringe at your lackluster answer, but that’s the only thing you can muster up at the moment, too busy internally questioning yourself. You’ve seen body modders with split tongues in documentaries and on the internet, but it’s never appealed to you like this before, and you don’t know what to do with that new realization.

“It’s okay, it takes some getting used to.” He gives you a smile that might be called innocent by anyone else, but to your eyes it’s quite obvious he’s proud about making you flustered.

“Getting used to...yeah, I’m sure.” There are about 15 different questions you want to ask him about that, too, but you aren’t going there on the first date.

“So...can I expect to see you again?”

“Of course.” You smile again at the hopeful note in his tone. “Just let me know whenever you want to go out again.”

Before Ten leaves, he places a hand on your shoulder and kisses you on the cheek. It’s a simple and short kiss, but it still makes you blush beneath your brown skin.

You wave goodbye to him from your doorstep as he goes, feeling like you’ve finally done something right for the first time in a long time.

You’d taken a chance with dating an extraterrestrial, someone so different from yourself and your species, and you figured it would be a new experience. Obviously. What you did not bet on, however, was the idea that you’d fall for Ten so fast.

After three months of dating exclusively, you feel like you could say you love him, which is frighteningly quick for you; though you don’t tell him this yet.

You’ve decided to bring him to meet your family. The idea frightens you, because your parents have never been very receptive to the aliens’ migration. But you are still holding out some hope that maybe they’ll realize all their assumptions were wrong, and that you’ve found a nice man who you love and who you’re sure loves you just as much. Whether he’s human or not shouldn’t matter.

You manage to set a date when all your schedules match up so you can bring Ten over to your parent’s house. Ten is nervous—more nervous than he was when you went on your first date—which you find a little surprising. You’ve gotten used to him being the one who you can lean on, who always seems to know the right answer.

“Do you think it will go well?” he asks, his tone implying he’s not confident of the answer.

“I hope so.” You give him a smile that you hope is reassuring and squeeze his hand.

When your parents open the door, there’s visible surprise on their faces. You’d already told them your boyfriend was not human, which drew doubtful responses when you first said it, but they’re acting as if they never knew that information—as if this is the first time they’re seeing an alien, period.

“Um…hi, mom, dad.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Ten says, though his own tone is overly formal, like he doesn’t know how he should speak. “I’m Ten.”

Your parents pause for a few moments longer. Finally, the awkward quiet is broken. “We thought you were just messing,” your dad says, though he steps out of the way to let you both come in, if a bit reluctantly.

“I—no.” You’re uncertain how to respond to that, though you don’t feel optimistic about what it entails. Your mother doesn’t say anything at all, just stares at you and Ten like you’re both strangers who’ve just waltzed in uninvited. She goes back in the kitchen to finish dinner once the door is closed, not saying anything to either one of you, and you already feel a cold pit settling in the bottom of your stomach.

Your dad sits in the living room with you and Ten, and another awkward silence ensues as your dad gives a stiff smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He clasps his fingers together and pulls them apart repeatedly, like they’ll give him the answers for what’s going on.

“This is just a fling, right? Of course you won’t be staying with this ma—” Your dad almost says man but then stutters, thinking maybe the term isn’t appropriate since Ten isn’t human. He makes a vague gesture to fill in the space of the missing word.

“It’s not a fling,” you say, feeling like you’ve had cold water poured down your back. You’re sitting straight and still on the couch, and it’s not comfortable, but you’re too tense to move. Ten is almost equally stiff beside you.

“Y/N, we just want you to make good decisions for yourself.” That’s what your dad says out loud, though the look in his eyes finishes the rest of that sentence: And I don’t think this is a good decision.

“I am,” you insist. “I don’t need to be told that over and over again.”

“Me and Y/N are happy together,” Ten explains, and your dad seems a little shocked that he’s decided to speak.

“Do you truly think you’re what she needs?” your dad asks. You’re not sure what makes you more angry; the question itself, or the fact that he keeps his tone non-accusatory and light, as if he’s only asking something like where do you work? Like the answer doesn’t matter because he’s already made up his mind.

“As long as Y/N wants to keep seeing me, there’s no reason to stop our relationship.”

A sound of displeasure comes from your mother in the kitchen, and your skin prickles. Your dad nods to Ten’s answer, but he does so in a way that conveys he just wants this conversation to be over rather than consider anything that was said.

You deeply regret not leaving straight after that failed discussion, but you soon find out just how bad it can get once you all make it to the dinner table. Your mother is chillingly silent for the first half of the dinner, acting like neither you nor Ten exist, while your dad attempts to make awkward small talk about how things are going.

There comes a point where you can no longer handle the cold sweat and the nerves, and you put your utensils down. Not that you had much of an appetite anyway.

“Why won’t you even talk to me?”

Your mother glares. “You can’t guess? What kind of question is that to ask?”

You falter. You don’t know why she always does this to you. Ask ridiculous rhetorical questions that you both already know the answer to. Now you must sit here and explain why you asked like it isn’t already obvious.

“I’m visiting after I haven’t been here in a while. With my boyfriend. I thought...I don’t know. The least you could do—” Your mother shakes her head at the word “boyfriend,” and you already know everything else you said went in one ear and out the other.

“I still don’t know why you didn’t just stay with Christian?” she interrupts. “He had a decent job, came to see us often, and was NOT an alien.”

“But he cheated on me,” you say, a sickness rising in you.

“That’s what men do sometimes, Y/N. You deal with it and move on. You’re supposed to be strong—fix whatever is making him do it.”

You and Ten exchange a tense look, and there is clear confusion whirling in his eyes, but you don’t say anything to each other. “That relationship is over. I’m trying to do something for myself for once, not whatever you think I should do.” Even saying those words makes you internally recoil, unsure of what the reaction will be, but you don’t take them back.

“You may be an adult but we’re still your parents. Frankly, you need to be with a man of your own race and species—not this blue Martian here. How would you even have kids?”

Ten gives a humorless laugh, like he wants to respond but doesn’t want to make the situation worse or offend you. “You know what, I should just leave,” he says abruptly, rising from his seat.

You get up quickly after he does, but your mom slams her hand on the table. “Y/N, you better not walk out of here.”

You feel defeated and exhausted, like you always do when dealing with your parents and their objections to every single thing you do, but you decide not to give in this time. “Stop treating me like I’m still a child, ma.”

“What does being an adult matter when you still act childish? Don’t come back here crying when this doesn’t work out. I’ve already warned you more than enough.”

“That isn’t going to happen.” 

“So now you think you know better than me, when you couldn’t even keep a man the first time around.”

“This is hopeless,” you sigh, feeling wounded and angry at all these cheap shots.

“Y/N, please just listen to your mother for once…” your dad interjects, but you try your best to ignore their protests as you grab your things and follow Ten to the door. You can still hear your mother’s angry complaints as you close the front door behind you, though you’re surprised—but grateful—that neither of them attempt to follow you outside.

The ride back home is uncomfortable and mostly quiet.

“I’m sorry, Ten,” you say, feeling like you’ve been frozen from the inside out despite it being nearly summer. You’re near tears when you speak. Ten shakes his head, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

“It’s not your fault…” he replies weakly, though his words aren’t very persuasive to either of you.

He still walks you up to your door when you arrive back at your place, trailing slightly behind you. The night air is distractingly humid, wrapping around the both of you like a physical thing. Neither of you know what to say to each other.

When you get to your front door, you turn to look at him. “I shouldn’t have made you come. I should’ve known...” 

“I wanted to come,” he points out. “You didn’t make me do anything.” Ten’s tone isn’t outright harsh, but the words are noticeably sharp. Maybe he realizes it, because his face softens as if he’s said something wrong.

You nod. It’s as if there’s a mountainous gap between you two that you just can’t cross right now. “I get it.” You say this almost mindlessly, because you’re not sure what you’re getting, exactly. Your hand rests on the doorknob. You don’t want to end the night on this awkward and painful note, but neither of you are making any progress with this lack of a real conversation. Maybe now isn’t the right time to try to talk about it.

“I think...I’ll just go home tonight.” You expected he’d say that, but the words still make your heart hurt, even if you don’t want them to. He looks like he might say something else, but he just gives you a small nod before starting off.

“Ten…” You don’t know what you want to ask of him or tell him, if anything, but his name slips from your lips like it’s something you can’t keep inside.

Ten stops for a moment and turns back to you. He steps closer again, leaning forward to give you a soft kiss on the lips. When he pulls back, his eyes hold you in place.

He mumbles, “I’m not mad at you,” before leaving.

More than anything, you want to know how Ten is doing, but you’re too ashamed to contact him for the first couple days after that mess of a night. Maybe he thinks you’re just like your parents and doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. His reassurance at the door wasn’t enough to soothe your worries, and you end up tearing yourself up internally over it—repeatedly recalling the warmth of his lips and wondering if that’s maybe the last time you’ll ever feel it.

Similarly, nothing but radio silence comes from his end. He doesn’t respond even after you finally muster up the nerve to send him a text—a short text, but still a message all the same—and you fear he must really be done with you.

On Ten’s part, he does have one justification for it; he’s preoccupied with dealing with the avalanche of unpleasant memories and emotions that incident resurfaced. Everything about what your parents said and how they looked at him reminds him of his past and ongoing struggles with trying to assimilate on Earth.

Even though he’s often very sure of himself and what he wants, he begins wondering if he’s “enough” for you. Maybe you’ve just been humoring him this whole time, or you’ve decided your parents are right and you’d be better off with another human. 

Those thoughts keep him up into the early morning hours, and he soon realizes he doesn’t want to let you go. In fact, he’s not sure what he’d do with himself if you decided to walk out of his life right now, and the idea of it makes him ill. Which makes him feel even more foolish for tuning you out.

Ten’s anxiety over losing you culminates in him standing on your doorstep again after almost a week of emptiness and not knowing how you were thinking or feeling—which has been killing him in its own way.

You’re not quite sure how to feel when you open the door and see him on the other side, but relief shoulders its way to the forefront.

“Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“Can you please—”

You both speak at the same time, your words breaking afterwards. 

“You can talk first,” Ten says.

“Come in.” You let him in the door, and the words start spilling before you know how to stop them. “Ten, I-I’m...really sorry. I should’ve known better than to put you in that situation, but I thought…” Your words trail off. You don’t want to let him know just how desperate you still are for your parents’ approval sometimes. Even though it’s a fruitless case. “I just wanted it to go well. I want things to work now, for us. I really, really want things to work for us.”

Ten surprises himself with how quickly he moves to take you in his arms before the last words have even finished settling in his mind. He hugs you tightly. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t want me anymore,” he whispers, like he’s telling you something forbidden.

“That couldn’t happen.” You’re saddened he’d come to that conclusion. “But...it’s not fair for you to leave me in the dark, either. I want to help you...so would you please let me?”

Ten squeezes you a bit tighter, as if you might disappear from his arms. “I’m sorry I ghosted you...it brought back bad memories of how things were when I first got here. When people were more open about treating me like some kind of enemy. I didn’t know how to deal with it.” You tuck your chin into his shoulder and listen to his breathing, his heartbeat, the sound of his words. “Y/N, I’m not sure if I’m very good at love, or if I even know enough about it. Maybe the others were right and I’m kidding myself with something I’ll never properly learn. But, I…” His voice cracks. “I-I think I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Entirely overwhelmed, you answer his admission with a long kiss, cupping his face in your hands. His response to your kiss is automatic, the knots of tension unraveling in your embrace.

“I love you, Ten,” you whisper against his lips after you separate. Here and now, it doesn’t feel too soon at all; there couldn’t be a better time to say it. His expression is a lot of things at once. Relief, happiness, contentment...he’s blushing, but it shows up as a darker blue on his already blue skin. When he smiles, it turns his whole face into a picture of joy.

--

“I want to go away.” Quietly, you tell him this as you rest your head in his lap.

You’re both lying on your couch, the room dim and the sound of rain occupying the silence. A downpour started coming down soon after Ten got to your place. You’ve sat there just like that and listened to the rain on the windows for the past couple hours, not wanting to do anything else or separate from each other. You knew he wouldn’t want to go home, and you didn’t even have to ask him to stay.

Ten’s been petting your hair the whole time. The motion of his fingers in your kinky strands makes you sleepy, but now the movements pause at your words.

“Go where?” he asks.

“Away from all this. My parents hate me, and they won’t let me have any peace as long as I’m with you. I just want to go away for a while.” Despite you overflowing with love after finally getting your feelings out in the open, the thought of your parents’ disapproval has lingered steadily in the recesses of your mind. You close your eyes against the tears that begin to well up. Ten’s quiet for a few more moments, and then begins stroking your head again.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

A few tears fall despite you trying to keep them in, and your eyelids flutter when you feel Ten’s fingers on your face, wiping them away. “Then we’ll go away.”

Ten’s homeland is a planet where the sun—or rather, a star called Proxima Centauri that’s much like the sun—is always out, no matter what time of day it is. There are days where it rains or gets cloudy, but night never falls and the star never dips any lower in the sky, always staying pinned in that same spot like a tack on a corkboard. That everlasting light throws your body clock off, and combined with this weird new form of jet lag associated with space travel, you are a mess for the first week or so after your arrival.

Ten makes a few jokes about fragile human bodies, but for the most part he tends to you as best as he knows how and tells you stories about how he grew up to get your mind off the discomfort. He feeds you these neon green drinks that don’t look like anything on Earth you’ve had before, and although they do make you feel better, you begin to think maybe you should’ve had a wellness plan before running off-planet.

You aren’t the only human who’s ever visited or even lived there, though, which gives you reassurance about adjusting to everything. By now, there’s a small population of human beings living here due to the interplanetary exchange initiated by Earth.

Before you left, Ten told you he had a small home in his homeland. You didn’t quite expect to hear this, since he’d been on Earth for a while now and had no family to return to. Though he’d migrated, he still expected to come back to his planet every so often, if only to visit. Now was as good a time as any.

Although many differences exist, the scenery is much like Earth’s; there are ecosystems with plants and animals and other living beings—like the Sommu themselves. Ten’s homeland is not filled with wall-to-wall technology like you’d expect an alien city to be, based on the small examples you’ve seen on Earth. You might compare it to the tropics back on Earth, with the Sommu yielding to nature’s rightful place in their ecosystem instead of clearing out whole forests or continually mining for resources. Ten is amused by your struggle to comprehend the newness and unfamiliarity of it all.

When you feel good enough to explore, he starts taking you to the beach often. It looks mostly like any other beach, but there are large coral forms that grow out of the ocean, reaching up towards the impossibly blue and constantly illuminated sky. Because there is no moon to guide the tides, the water is eerily still, the surface mirror-like—like a huge lake or pond that extends in almost every direction for miles. You’d almost believe it was a mirror if you hadn’t seen a bird-like creature skimming across the surface as it flew by, creating fleeting ripples.

You swim around a little in the still waters after Ten convinces you that you aren’t going to turn into a fish or something equally scary. He has to hold both your hands the entire time to get you to step in, and he doesn’t let go until you’re confident enough to explore the water on your own.

“Just focus on me, okay?” His smile is bright and shining against his blue skin, and he looks you directly in the eyes as he backs into the water, breaking the surreal stillness of it with his movements. “It’s just like the water on Earth.”

“Okay, okay,” you say uncertainly, gripping his hands and stepping in tentatively. The water does feel like any other water you’ve touched throughout your life, which helps you calm down slightly. His hands stay tight around yours as you get waist-deep into the water.

When you’re finally able to let go of him, he claps his hands more enthusiastically than the situation probably calls for. “Yay, you’re a big girl now!”

You roll your eyes at him. “You’re not funny, Ten.”

--

On a bright afternoon, Ten lets you into a room of his house you haven’t entered before. You’ve passed by this shining white door several times, but it’s always remained firmly shut until now.

“What’s in here?” you ask as you hold his hand.

“That’s what I’m going to show you.” He laughs and pushes the door open.

You think it’s a darkroom at first, seeing nothing but dim light and the shiny surfaces of what looks like photographs as your eyes adjust. But when he touches his hand to a panel on the wall and the lights come on, you realize it’s not a darkroom. More like a small gallery for all his pictures.

The “pictures” are physical, but they aren’t like the old Polaroids or film photos that have begun fading out of existence on Earth. They’re small crystalline squares that play eternally-moving videos on their glossy surfaces—a bit different from the translucent holograms Earth adopted. You step further into the room to look at them. It’d probably take days to explore them all, there are so many. Different scenes play out as soundless movies, and when you look for long enough, you realize they’re split into different categories. Numerous events within a life.

Many are of the beach, other scenic places around his homeland, oddly-shaped buildings, and plants in colors that there are no names on Earth for. You step closer to one of the walls to look at the collection of images more closely. You actually do “recognize” a select few, linking them together with old memories Ten had shared with you only weeks ago. There’s so much happening in these small snippets of time, so many stories you haven’t yet heard, that you feel like you could look at them forever and not get enough.

“This is...something else.” Your words seem inadequate, but you don’t quite know how to express your sheer wonder.

“I could take some of you,” Ten suggests, from somewhere behind you. “I want to.”

You glance back at him. “Hm, yeah.”

“I’m serious.” Ten comes up behind you to clasp his arms around your waist. He tucks his chin into your shoulder. His lips are close at your neck, and you let them linger there. One of your hands goes to his own hand that’s over your waist, and you run your fingertips over his knuckles as you gaze at the photo wall before you. “I think you’d be the perfect muse.”

“You could do that.” You’re still entranced with it all, and you already know you’ve made up your mind to let him take as many photos of you as he wants.

--

The next time you go to the beach, Ten takes some photos of you standing near the huge coral forms—or at least as close as you are willing to get—and he laughs at your lingering hesitation.

Still, the crystalline photos he takes of you are the embodiment of perfection. When you look over them later, watching yourself twirl around and strike silly poses in the water, you can almost hear the sound of your laughter twining together and feel the warmth of a star that’s not the sun on your skin.

“What if we stayed here?”

You ask Ten this while you’re lying in his bed, watching a kaleidoscope of shapes on the ceiling. The bedroom window is open to allow the breeze to come in. The ceiling of the bedroom—and every other room in the house—is more like an ever-changing reflection of shapes and colors than an actual ceiling. You might compare it to a mirror, like the surface of the ocean, but you think it’s much more complex than that. Sometimes you can see the distorted outline of yourself in it, like a funhouse mirror. Other times, you see the sky above.

Ten lies beside you with one hand behind his head and the other resting on his stomach, and he turns his head to look at you.

“Stayed?”

“If we just decided not to...go back to Earth.”

He pauses for a few moments. “Is that a good idea? You have a whole life there...and your friends…” Ten doesn’t mention your family, which you are grateful for.

You sigh. Nothing like a quick injection of reality after letting your imagination get ahead of you. “We’d have to go back. I’d have to tell them goodbye. And sort some other things out. Maybe it wouldn’t happen right now. But, after I do everything I need to do on Earth...maybe I could migrate here.”

“That’s a big decision to make...and it should be yours to decide.” Ten pauses again, like he’s weighing his words. “You know I don’t have many connections on Earth…” In other words, leaving Earth and returning home for good might not be as big of a deal for him as it would be for you.

You sit up and look out the window, seeing how the warm wind stirs the trees outside. “I want to.” You say it almost inaudibly, your words nearly carried off by the breeze. You turn back to him only to find him already there, sitting across from you and looking at you closely. Your faces are only inches from each other’s as he searches your eyes. “What do you want to do?”

“I’ll do anything you want to.” Ten’s voice is earnest, like he’d follow you to Hell and back if you asked, and you believe him.

Resting your hand on his cheek, you kiss him.

This kiss is a little different from the ones you’ve shared before—more yearning. More desperate. You kiss like there won’t be enough time to do all the things you want to do with each other—to each other. His split tongue bumps against yours, caresses it, and it causes a shiver to go down your spine, like it always does.

You end up lying back on the bed again with Ten’s body crowding yours in, legs tangling together and hips pressing against one another’s. Neither of you have made a move to take the other’s clothes off yet, but then he separates from your lips for a long moment and studies your features, from your eyebrows down to your mouth.

“Touch yourself for me.”

Your mouth drops open slightly.

“I want to see it.” He takes one of your hands and guides it up under your skirt and between your legs, pressing your fingers against your sex through your underwear, and you look at him with wide eyes, taking a deep breath. He lets go of your hand, and you keep yours right where it is. You’re slightly nervous about his black gaze trained on you, unrelenting and prying, but you begin to move your hand anyway. 

Over your underwear, you press your finger between your lower lips, sliding between them and over your clit, and a little tremor goes through your body. You find yourself getting wet more quickly than you normally would with Ten watching you as you tease your entrance. You breathe a little heavier but make no sound yet. One of Ten’s hands reaches out for your ankle, though he doesn’t do anything other than keep his fingers there, a light touch that keeps passing back and forth over your ankle bone.

You circle your fingers across your clit more insistently, your legs tensing as the pleasure mounts higher. Ten’s lips part as he watches you, a heavy breath escaping from his chest. The hand on your ankle slides higher up your leg, just below your thigh, like he wants to slide his fingers into the mix and take over, but he doesn’t make a move to do so just yet.

Finally, Ten reaches under your skirt to pull your sticky panties off, sliding them slowly down your legs and leaving them somewhere on the floor. You want him to touch you again, the brush of his hands against your hips not enough, but he doesn’t grant your desire. “Keep going,” he says, leaning back on his hands, and you can see he’s growing hard.

You bring your hand back to its original place between your thighs, sliding through the wetness more easily and shuddering when your fingertips graze over your clit. You slide a finger into yourself then. A small moan slips out, and you close your eyes, but Ten’s fingers pinch your chin—not enough to hurt, but the sudden touch makes you look at him. “Keep your eyes open.” His thumb presses into your lower lip, and he stares at your mouth for a moment like he’s imagining sliding something hard and hot between your lips.

Ten kisses you on the lips again, and this time he trails the kisses down your body until he’s gripping your thighs on either side of his face. You pause in your movements when he reaches the junction of your thighs, and you watch as he grabs your hand and slips your finger out of yourself. He sucks the slick digit into his mouth, and you cannot tear your eyes away from him.

He lets your hand go and pulls you a few inches closer to his face, dragging you across the bed, and you can barely get your bearings back to sit up again when he slips his tongue through your lower lips. You moan, and he responds to that by repeating it again, catching your clit between the split in his tongue, and wiggling both sides.

“Oh Jesus...oh fuck.” Your hands go to Ten’s hair, pulling on it as you push your hips closer to his mouth, your back curving up. He is alluring tucked between your thighs like this, teasing and sucking your clit with his split tongue and prodding his fingers at your hole until he chooses to slide two of them inside.

His free hand keeps you close against his face as he eats you out, that wondrous tongue sliding against the most sensitive part of your body and making you gasp with boundless pleasure. Little droplets of moisture bead at the corners of your eyes from how good it feels, your stomach tensing and releasing as you try your best to keep still.

He has to keep his grip on your body tight when you come, as you try to squirm away from his tongue because of how stimulated you are. He only lets you go after he’s satisfied himself with licking up all the wet that’s spilled from you.

Then he strips your skirt off for you, because he knows you’re not quite in a state to do it for yourself right now. He peels the rest of your clothes off similarly, which doesn’t take much time or effort to do; you’ve dressed lightly for the weather.

Ten looks at you lying beneath him on the bed, his gaze stuck somewhere between awe and lust. 

He slips out of his own clothes with a certain practiced ease. Yes, he’s really blue everywhere. He looks mostly human-like everywhere, too, except for the lack of a belly button. 

Ten kisses you deeply as he slips into you, and you clutch at his sides. He tries to keep his pace slow at first, maybe for your sake or to just savor how it feels, but he gives into the feeling of you squeezing around him and starts thrusting into you faster. There is already sweat sliding down to his jaw, though you think it might be because of the heat, too.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” comes out of you in a voice you hardly recognize as your own.

His pelvis sliding against your clit from the proximity of your bodies makes you curl your fingers into the strands of his hair, wanting to touch every part of him you can. His lips go to the sweat-slicked skin of your shoulder, leaving little wet kisses behind as he wraps an arm around your waist and simply fucks into you, his shaft dragging against your walls.

He eventually separates himself from your neck, though it comes with some effort, to gaze at your face again. However, he finds that your eyes have drifted shut.

“Do you wanna come?” Ten asks, softly, gently, like you might break apart if he speaks too loud.

You’re a little winded from how he’s thrusting into you and can’t yet see the motive behind this question—because of course you do—but you answer with a shaky “I-I want to.”

“Then don’t look away from me.” His voice becomes harsher on these words.

“I…” Your lips move without any real words behind them as he thrusts into you harder, sinking all the way into you before pulling out to the tip. You want do what he’s just told you, but you find it difficult with the way he’s intent on burying himself into you, his eyes piercing into your own. “Mmm, I-I…”

You don’t know if you can, but the way he’s kindling your rising heat with each thrust makes you want to try very, very hard. Ten keep his hands on the sides of your face so you cannot look anywhere but at him.

The pleasure bears down on you more with each second, and you try to keep your breathing steady as another climax approaches.

“You’re almost there, come on baby,” he coaxes you, sloppily kissing the corner of your mouth before slipping his tongue in again. The way you gasp against his lips and tighten around him signals him to your orgasm, and he sits back to watch it play across your face, smirking at how you moan his name desperately.

Ten’s continued thrusts make you shiver from the flood of sensations overcoming your body, and you whimper at his movements until he pulls out and comes on your abdomen.

Ten gives you time to recover after you come down from your second orgasm, though he makes sure to lay a few more enamored kisses on your weakened body. He gets off the bed and exits the room after that. You don’t bother to ask where he’s going, because you know he’ll be back anyway.

When Ten comes back, he has his camera with him. The teasing tilt of his lips never leaves his face as he points it towards you. He takes a photo of you lying on his bed nude, with the breeze coming in and rustling the tree leaves and your hair, your skin shining bronze under the light of the eternal star. Then he comes closer, making the bed sink under his weight, and nudges your legs apart. He takes more photos of your lower stomach glistening with sweat and his cum—and photos of him sliding his slender fingers between your thighs and bringing you careening into another bout of euphoria.

The camera is soon forgotten after you come again. Ten climbs fully back onto the bed now and pulls you into his lap. His dick is hard again, and the length of it nudges against your lower lips, making you whimper from how sensitive you still are. He shushes you with a kiss and lifts your hips so he can slide into you, his shaft nudging that soft spot inside you and making you grip onto his arms.

You’re too mushy and dazed to do anything but let him push his hips up into you while you cling to him, your head lolling back. Ten’s mouth goes to the open expanse of your neck, and he wets your skin with his tongue.

The kaleidoscope of shapes above you on the ceiling morphs into one glistening reflection, throwing the blurred shapes of your bodies back to you. It’s like looking through a dense fog. You’re a little caught off guard by it, and you stare up at your nude forms. Ten looks up as well to see the cloudy figure of you cradled in his lap, and he only grins and thrusts up into you harder and smacks your ass in reply.

He grinds into you while he has you sitting full on his dick, and you think he must have set off your internal “reset” button somewhere between landing slaps on your ass and repeatedly hitting your g-spot. Your mind is blissfully, amazingly blank. The only clear thing you can distinguish is how he feels in and around you.

When you come this time, it comes with a gush of wetness that makes Ten whisper several smug praises into your ear for being such a good girl and making a mess on him.

As you quickly find out, Ten’s refractory period seems to be nonexistent, while his stamina is overflowing.

Ten knows how to mix the pain with pleasure in a way that enhances both feelings, and you don’t know if you’ve ever experienced anything more perfect. One moment, he’ll say something romantic and fairytale-like to you before shoving your head into the pillow and taking you from behind in the next moment, pulling one of your arms behind you for leverage as he thrusts into you hard. You want him to do whatever he desires to you, and so you let him hammer into you until you think your hips and ass will be bruised by the next morning.

You’ve never knew that sex could be so carnal and so loving at the same time, but this is all of those things, and it makes you feel so full that you could split at the seams. You scream, cry, and moan more times than you can count, so enveloped by pleasure that it seems like the atoms of your body will simply dissolve from the intensity.

When you both finally become too exhausted to continue, it’s still daytime. Of course. But Ten draws the blackout shade forward and seals all the light out, and so you know it must be time to sleep. Time blends together here. Even if it’s not yet the midnight hour, it will be as long as you deem it so.

“Come here,” he says, and rolls you over on the bed so you don’t have to sleep in the wet spot. You grin in sleepy amusement against his neck as he hugs you to his body. “Let’s stay right here.”

You know he’s talking about sleeping for the next few hours, but you can also imagine he’s referring to your new life—one you’ll create together.

[dreamkidddream]

hey congratulations!!🎉

if possible, can you write quote #19 w/ atsushi?

Whew so this was a popular request and I’m honestly excited for it! This was so fun to write too. Atsushi ain’t slick either 👀 Atsushi when he’s doubting himself 📉📉 Atsushi when he’s confident, believes in himself AND goes feral📈📈 📈 also sorry for the wait, school has me 1000000x stressed, but my birthday is coming up so expect me to post more as a birthday gift to myself 🥰 reader is gender neutral!

TW: a little spicy but nothing extremely graphic is mentioned, minor language

Prompt: “I saw that. You just checked me out.” with Atsushi!

Atsushi couldn’t help it. No matter what, his eyes were always drawn to you. You’re just...really pretty! Beyond pretty! You’re just so alluring, that no matter how much he tried to snap out of the daze that you unknowingly put him in, he would just be focused on you all over again. Didn’t matter where either: in the office filling out reports, hanging out in the cafe, on missions (Akutagawa would be fuming and a little confused, but Atsushi didn’t care).

While he is naive at times, that didn’t mean that he’s stupid. He knows that he’s in too deep and it’s too late to try and deny what he’s feeling for you, but he’s scared. He fears that he isn’t good enough for you, that he never will be good enough for you. You deserve more than what he can ever give you, so why waste your time on someone like him? You deserve better than that, better than him...

But those thoughts were pushed away whenever you’re around him. Everytime you flashed him that sweet smile of yours, his heart would beat even faster than before (and you made his heart pretty fast already), and he couldn’t bare the notion of you not being in his life. He couldn’t imagine it, and he didn’t even try to.

Which lead to now: you both walking on the Yokohama boardwalk, him holding onto your prized tiger plushie (that took so long for him to win and SO MUCH MONEY) and varying treats from different street vendors, and you chattering excited about...something. What was it that you were talking about again? Damn it, it happened again!

It was so easy for Atsushi to get lost when it came to you. Just seeing the ways your eyes sparkled underneath the lights and the night sky was enough for him to lose his breath, not to mention how stunning you’re already are. He was more than flabbergasted when you accepted his invite to the boardwalk, stumbling out a thank you with a heavy blush across as you rambled on about how you can’t wait until then.

And you look so good. Not that you already didn’t! You actually got a little dressed up tonight, nothing too over the top but nothing like a regular hangout either. The outfit that you chose really displayed your figure, and he couldn’t help but let his gaze fall to-

“Hey! Are you listening?”

SHIT.

“HUH?! Oh! Of-of course!”, he stuttered out, nodding his head. Please believe me, please believe me, please-

“So you agree that I should go on a date with Dazai or Ranpo? Or even Akutagawa?”

“Ye-WAIT NO!”

“I’m just kidding, Sushi,” you playfully bumped his shoulder. “You zoned out on me. If I’m boring you-”

“No! It’s not that!”, he rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, shameful. “It’s just...I’m really having a lot of fun with you tonight. I’m still a little shocked that you actually agreed to come out with me.”

“Why would I tell you no? I love spending time with you! Plus, this gives us a chance to hang out without any interference. Just us two.”

“Y-yeah! Just us! I’m really happy that you’re having fun.”

“Just make sure I’m not boring you to death okay? Plus, I have to tell you something important...”

His ears perked up and his heart started to race. Was this the moment? Could it be? He wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. You looked so bashful, twiddling your fingers together nervously.

Were you about to confess to him?

A smile broke out on your face as you gazed at him.

“You’ve been checking me out this whole time, haven’t you?”

He choked.

Atsushi could faint right now. Not out of pure bliss, but of embarrassment. You knew what he was doing?! He wishes that the ground would open up and swallow him while, he even wishes that Akutagawa just comes out of nowhere to fight just so he wouldn’t have to face you.

“W-wait?”, and his voice cracked. Even more embarrassment.

“You’ve been checking me out, tiger boy! My my Atsushi, who knew that you could be so devious?”

He almost dropped your plush tiger trying to wave his arms to defend himself. He wasn’t checking you out! He was admiring you! Very big difference in his opinion.

Oh who was he kidding? Either way, you didn’t need to know that!

“No I wasn’t! It’s- you see- I wasn’t checking you out! You h-had something on your face! Yeah!”

“Oh please Atsushi. I saw that. You just checked me out. As a matter of fact, I know you’ve been checking me out for quite some time.”

Oh he could just shrivel up and disappear into nothing at this point. He felt so ashamed, disgusting. Oh God, what if you thought that he’s a pervert now? He began to open his mouth, the start of a first apology of many to follow on the tip of his tongue, when you cut him off.

“Honestly, I was wondering when you were gonna make a move. Thought I was gonna have to, but I wanted to give you enough time and maybe see you sweat a little.”

“...huh?”

You broke poor Atsushi.

So you didn’t think that he’s a disgusting pervert? You didn’t hate him? And you knew that he’s been doing this? And you knew of his feelings for you? And you reciprocated said feelings?!

Atsushi was overjoyed at this revelation. Then, he came to the realization that you knew this whole time of his feelings for you, didn’t say anything because you were amused with how stressed he got, and then proceeded to still mess with him after.

He’s irritated to say the least.

You let out a string of laughter, “Atsushi, you should see your face right now!” You started to clutch your stomach, tears pricking at your eyes with how hard you’re laughing. “Seriously! You didn’t think I wouldn’t notice you always staring at me? I’m not that oblivious you know.”

As much as you loved teasing him, you really did mean what you said. He’s been gazing at you with his longing look in his eyes for so long, that you believed it was only a matter of time before he approached you. However, you were starting to get just a tad bit impatient. You knew how much of a crush he has on you just as you have a crush on him, and you were trying to have him make the first move, but if he continued to just give you puppy eyes when he thought you wouldn’t notice, you were going to drag him by his tie and force him to confess.

“But don’t feel too bad. If I was super nervous to confess to my crush, I’ll probably just stare and hope they understand my feelings that way. So, now that that’s out of the way, do you want to confess first or should I-”

“You don’t even know what you do to me, do you?”

Atsushi’s had his head lowered, and when he snapped his head up, he was glaring at you.

Oh no, he’s mad at you. You didn’t mean to make upset! It was- wait a second. What you do to him? He continued on, gripping your shoulders so that you couldn’t look away, your focus would be on him and only him, just like his is always on you and only you.

“It’s not my fault what you do to me! It’s yours!”

“Wait, AtsuSHI-”

“It’s not my fault that you’re really pretty and nice and-”

Now he was shaking you while he rants and whines about all the things that “weren’t his fault”. You began to giggle again, “Okay okay Atsushi! I get it.” Clasping his hands, you slowly ceased his shaking, with him giving you that same puppy eyed look that you’re used to.

Damn it, he didn’t understand what he does to you.

“I’m sorry, Atsushi. It’s just so fun to see you get riled up sometimes”, you already moved his hands to in front of you, gently rubbing circles on them. “I...I really do like you, Atsushi. More than like, really. This wasn’t how I was planning this to go, but whatever. And you don’t have to worry about me not returning your feelings dummy! It’s pretty obvious, wouldn’t you say?”

You could see his expression soften the more you spoke, processing your words and letting them sink in. He saw no playful glints in your eyes this time. You genuinely meant what you said, you like him, more than a friend.

He felt tears gathering in his eyes, but you wiped at them before they could fall. Caressing his face, prizes and treats long forgotten, you leaned in to kiss him softly. He went still, then melted into it, bringing you close to him as much as he can by your waist. When you pulled back, he had such a dopey grin on his face, eyes full of warmth.

Nothing could compare to this feeling, the feeling of being loved, being truly cared for.

He truly did feel blessed.

“The night’s still young, Atsushi,” you leaned in to give him another peck, which he happily accepted. “And I don’t want to waste anymore time than we already have.”

“Y-y-yeah, me either”, he touched your forehead against yours. You look so angelic underneath the stars, he couldn’t look away if he tried. “Let’s make up for lost time.”

“Of course. And I know the perfect way to start.”

Bonus:

“Good morning, Atsushi!”

Dazai rolled his chair to his desk, already putting off his work for the day. “So tell me: how was your date last night?”

“Oh-it was great! We just went to the boardwalk. (Y/N) was happy, and we both confessed, so everything went okay.”

“That’s it?”, he sighed. “How boring. You guys didn’t do anything else?”

“Hm? No? Was I suppose to do something else?”, he blinked at Dazai. Did you miss a step or something? Everything went better than expected last night, so he did everything right...right?

“Tell me, Atsushi. Did you two run into any trouble last night?”

“No. Why?”

“Well how did you get that bruise on your neck?”

Bruise? What was he-

Oh no.

Dazai leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head. “And judging by the way (Y/N) is being way more cheerful than they usually are, something tells me that that isn’t a bruise-”

“DAZAI! Get back to work!”

Kunikida couldn’t have come at a perfect time. Dazai groaned out a “fine” and rolled back to his desk, letting Atsushi breath out a sigh of relief. You guys had a lot more fun than he let on, and he would be beyond mortified if the whole office found out-

“Goodness Kunikida, I was just letting Atsushi know that his hickey was showing! (Y/N) really knows how to leave a mark, don’t they Atsushi?”

Please someone, end him now-

“And the way that (Y/N) is covering their neck tells me that you do too. My mentee is growing up so fast, I’m so proud!”

“DAZAI!”

“ATSUSHI!”

[bonny-kookoo]

Bittersweet (JJK x Reader) ☕️💜🔞

🍪 Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

🍪 Genre: Barista!AU, Mutual pining, smut because this is my content we’re talking about

🍪 Warnings: mentions of sickness, mentions of vomiting, best boi Koo, coffee puns, casual y’all during sex, protected sex because we have our lives under control in this household, overstimulation, rough! Koo, spanking (like..once), doggy-style because why not, reader rides Koo for a moment before he takes the upper hand again, they’re just being a mess ok

🍪 Summary: every day she’s his favorite costumer. So when she’s suddenly absent; what’s he supposed to do without any way to contact her?

Jungkooks eyes began to sparkle as she stepped inside, wrapped up in a fluffy brown jacket, a scarf around her neck.

His scarf to be exact.

Now, they both weren't a couple- but close enough. He'd given her his scarf the day before as she'd forgotten hers at home; and due to the cold weather outside, he'd immediately gotten concerned over her health. He knew that she hated the cold- so he'd gifted his own protection against the harsh wind outside to her, uncaring about himself in that moment.

It gave him a weird sense of pride knowing that she wore it still. And as she stepped closer, Jungkook had already prepared her usual order- never forgetting to include her favorite cookies, a thing he'd memorized by now. She never quite drank coffee, but more like, milk and sugar with a drop of coffee. His coworker, Jin, had made fun of it several times in the past; he'd always stepped in however, as soon as he could see how embarrassed she got.

"Oh?" He asked, as he noticed her red nose and glossy eyes. "Are you okay?" He asked, and she giggled before coughing. He furrowed his brows. Hopefully she didn't want to go to work like that- but by now he knew her well enough to have a very big suspicion that that was exactly her plan for the day.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh hey what's brewing? Looking good yourself, thanks for the compliment-" She said, trying to laugh but coughing again. "Hey look, I kind of wanted to return your scarf, but I also don't want to share my bacteria with you so- is it okay if I keep it for a bit?" She said, voice a bit muffled due to her facemask. He nodded, a slight pout on his lips.

"I know you're gonna go to work but-" He said, placing her order on the counter for her to take, as she placed down the money he took. "Can you at least go home a bit earlier? You really do look not so good." He said, doe-eyes growing a bit pleading at her as she sighed.

"I'll try, okay?" She said, and he nodded. Technically he'd ask her to promise, but he also knew how headstrong she was. The fact that she aknowledged his request was good enough for now.

"Okay." He said, smiling a bit as he waved from behind the counter as she left. "Take care!" He called out as she still waved, almost tripping over the small step outside the door as he chuckled, turning to the next costumer.

She wasn't there the next day.

Typically he should not get too worried about it, but as the week passed, she still didn't show up. A coworker of hers couldn't tell him either what was going on; only that she wasn't at work either.

So she was probably at home resting. Hopefully.

"...kook. Jungkook!" Jin called out, saving his younger coworker from spilling hot milk all over his hand. "Okay, spill the beans loverboy." He sternly said as he took him to the side, the cafe calm and almost empty as they were close to closing time. Jungkook sighed as he ran a hand over his face, groaning for a moment.

"I'm worried!" He exclaimed, no need to say out loud who he was talking about. "I know that she's an independent adult person who can surely take care of herself but what if something happened? What if she's at home too sick to take care of herself? Jin during the entire time she came here, she never missed an entire week!" He explained in pout as he let himself flop down on one of the small chairs. Seokjin sighed, before he looked at the clock.

"Go. I'll wrap things up today." He said, as Jungkook furrowed his brows. Even if he went home now, that didn't help his situation at all! "I'll give you her number and you can call her-" He started, as Jungkook suddenly jumped up.

"You have her number?! Why didn't you tell me?" He yelled, absolutely scandalized by this.

Seokjin threw his hands up in defeat. "Okay slow down, first of all you never asked. Second of all she told me not to!" He said, and Jungkooks look shifted. He suddenly didn't look offended anymore- he looked hurt. Betrayed almost.

"Why.?" He asked, now way quieter.

Jin sighed. "She wanted you to ask for it instead." He answered, and Jungkook threw his head back again, groaning as Jin laughed. "Give me your phone.." He said, taking the device from him and putting in her contact info. "There you go. Use protection kid!" He called after Jungkook, who'd immediately grabbed his phone and ran out, putting on his coat on his way.

The older one simply shook his head, smiling.

"..yeah?" The very tired voice of hers answered as Jungkook sat up straighter on his couch.

"H-Hey its Jungkook! You know, Kookie, the barista who puts in vanilla sugar instead of the lame stuff?" He said, and suddenly a laugh reached his ear, making him involuntarily smile. "Hey, I.. you didn't show up the entire week and it made me kind of worry so, I wanted to ask if you're good?" He asked, shyness slowly dying down.

Her voice sounded strained. "Yeah yeah, just great-" She said, before coughing. "Okay yeah no. Have you ever needed to sneeze but you couldnt?" She asked, and he hummed a reply, agreeing that he indeed had been in that situation before. "I feel absolutely like I'm gonna, you know, throw up, but I can't." She groaned, and his brows furrowed at that.

"I promise I don't try to be creepy here but-" He started, as he looked at his dog, peacefully sleeping next to him on the couch. "Can you give me your address maybe so I can come over? I- Listen I'm super worried, and no one should be left alone when sick." He said, and wondered if he was overstepping a line. Until he heard some shuffling, and a jingling sound.

"I'll text it to you, k? I uh.. unlocked the door now because I sure as hell won't be getting up anymore today." She said, as he chuckled.

"Oh, so you're gonna make me your maid?" He asked, and she giggled.

"Thats the plan Kookie."

"Y/N?" He called, without getting an answer. He thought about it, before trying a second attempt. "Midget!"

The answer was almost instantly. "The fuck do you mean Mid-" She tried, before coughing.

Jungkook walked inside the bedroom after searching for a moment, looking at her with a pitiful smile as he leaned against the doorframe. If she wasn't feeling so absolutely disgusting in that moment, she would've whistled at his way different outfit. After all, she mainly only saw him in his regular work attire; the black button up and ripped jeans he sported now a complete one-eighty to that. He looked so much more mature like that- now actually giving away that he was a bit older than her. Did he always have such a defined jawline? He could definitely cut a bitch with that-

Wow, exit was three miles ago.

"Done staring sugar?" He asked, and she only groaned, burying herself deeper into her massive mountain of blankets as he chuckled. "Alright. I'm gonna carry you into the living room, because I wont be spending my time in your stuffy bedroom." He said, making her giggle as she peeked out of her makeshift burrito.

"You won't?" She asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively before sneezing into the blankets, making him chuckle again.

"You're sick, so no." He said, and she suddenly yelped as he leaned down to pick her up. "What?" He asked with wide eyes.

"I'm sick!"

"So?"

"I'm sick."

"Heard that before." He said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. She swallowed a bit at that because- was that a tattoo staring at her? Why did she never notice his hand was inked?! She shook her head, to focus again. "You'll get sick too!" She explained, before he scoffed.

"It's not like I'm licking your face sugar, now stop being difficult." He said, as he picked her up, blankets and everything included as he carried her back, placing her onto her couch before he squatted down in front of her face. "I'm gonna heat up some soup, and you'll eat something alright?" He said, and she shook her head.

"I'm gonna throw it up." She said, a pout evident. She didn't want his hard work to simply go down the drain- quite literally.

"That's okay." He answered, as she furrowed her brows. "You probably can't throw up because you haven't eaten. People typically feel better after vomiting so it's okay. Win win situation, really." He said as if it wasn't a huge deal.

"It's gross though." She mumbled.

"It happens." He said back, as he placed the white plastic bag on her kitchen counter, filling some of the soup from the plastic container into a small bowl he had a bit of issues finding, before he heated it up in her microwave. He was absolutely terrified of using them usually, making her laugh at him every time someone brought it up, but this time he didn't care much. "Here, let me help." He hummed, as he placed the bowl and a spoon on the small coffee table in front of her couch, helping her sit up properly. "Slowly, okay? You don't need to finish it, just a bit at a time alright sugar?" He requested, and she nodded, watching him as he sat down next to her, bowl on his thigh while he blew on the spoon, careful to cool the liquid food down before offering it. She kept her eyes on his focused face as she opened her lips, accepting it as he gently smiled. "There we go. Hope it doesn't suck, Jin says I can't cook for shit." He said with a chuckle.

"Doesn't matter, I can't taste much anyways." She shrugged, as he offered another small spoonful.

He snorted a bit as he kept himself concentrated. "Well I guess I'll just have to get you better, and cook for you when your tastebuds work again." He decided, as she smiled.

"Huh?" He noticed, as the small form of her whizzed past him, practically throwing open the bathroom door before he heard her. He dried his hands, sighing as he went inside the bathroom, spotting her leaning over the toilet bowl, gripping it with pale hands. "Oh sugar." He hummed, before he squatted next to her, a comforting hand running over her back as the other gathered her hair, holding it away from her face. He hushed her the best he could, a bit of helplessness seeping into his mind as he watched her struggle. She leaned her head on the side of the bowl for a moment, breathing heavily with closed eyes. Jungkook reached for a piece of toilet paper, wiping her mouth before he continued his gentle caressing of her back. "Better?" He asked, and she nodded, before opening her eyes, tearing up. "Whats wrong?" He asked, as he helped her sit, flushing the toilet.

"I hate this." She said, angrily wiping her eyes.

"Everyone gets sick." He said with a slight smile, searching for toothpaste as he prepared everything for her to get the taste off of her tongue.

"Thats not what I meant." She mumbled, as he looked at her. "I hate that you see me like this. I'm disgusting and a walking piece of dead meat at this point, radiating germs." She huffed, as he went down in front of her, pointing her toothbrush at her lips as she opened them almost automatically. He smiled at her reaction, placing the brush inside her mouth as she took over, lazily brushing her teeth.

"I think you're still pretty." He said, as she looked at him with an unamused look in her eyes. "I feel good that you let me take care of you like this. It feels nice that you let me see you like that." He explained, as he helped her up to walk towards the sink, turning on the water as she rinsed her mouth. "I don't like you any less, of you're worried about that." He said, and she almost choked on the water inside her mouth.

She knew he liked her, romantically, yet he'd never openly said it.

"I know its a bit sudden, but I've been pretty obvious." He said, as he wiped her mouth with a towel, before smiling at her.

"If I wasn't sick right now I'd be all cliche and kiss you right now, but I can't." She said, pouting a bit as he chuckled, kissing his two fingers before placing them onto her lips.

"Indirect kiss then."

"Okay but espresso is absolutely disgusting." She said, leaning over the counter to grab a mini cookie, before yelping as Jungkook playfully slapped her hands.

"Everyone can decide for themselves, first of all, and stop stealing shit." He said as he pointed at her, gasping scandalized as she teasingly tried to bite his finger. "Really now?" He asked, and she laughed.

"Okay kids, be disgusting somewhere else please!" Seokjin yelled, grabbing Jungkook by his apron as he pushed him into the backroom, telling him to change and go home. "Yoongi and I will close up today." He said to the young girl waiting, as she nodded.

"Alright sugar, lets go and be disgusting!" Jungkook exclaimed as he emerged from the backroom, now dressed in familiar all black attire, as he scooped her up, making her laugh as they both walked out of the cafe, towards his car.

"I want you to move in with me." He said between huffs of breaths as she mewled underneath him, body shaking with every encounter with his thrusting hips. She nodded as she smiled when he leaned down to kiss her collarbone, hand running over her breasts as he teasingly pinched a nipple between his fingers.

"You'll- urgh-" She groaned, as he bit the skin. "You'll have to carry my shit though." She pressed out, as he laughed at that, leaning back as he expertly angled his hips to hit her sweet spot deep inside, making her arch her back.

"Ah- that's fine with m..me!" He stuttered as he began to put more force into his movements, sacrificing speed for strength as she hummed in delight underneath him, grabbing the pillow above her head as she started to grow restless. "You gonna cum sugar? Nice and hard?" He asked playfully as he moved his hand over her exposed clit, fingers rubbing over the sensitive bundle of nerves as she gasped in pleasure, thighs suddenly shaking as she came, clenching around him. "Hm, good girl." He hummed, before she huffed, suddenly squirming before she squealed, wetness escaping her as he chuckled, sight enough to send him over the edge as well. "There we go, giving me a show aren't you sugar?" He said, voice hoarse as he let himself lean over her again, before she suddenly grinned up at him, pulling him down and shoving a bit to get him to lay down, suddenly above him as she sunk down on his still sensitive cock.

He laghed and choked up as she continued to ride him, her own second orgasm approaching as he squeezed his eyes shut. "God- good god ah!" He yelled out between laughter at the way he could feel his own legs tremble, unsure if what he was feeling was torture of absolute heaven. "Pl-Please God, Baby you're-" He pressed out, gasping as he suddenly felt himself close to a second orgasm as well. "You're gonna kill me you fucking demon!" He exclaimed, roughly turning her around as he pulled her legs against her stomach again, thrusting with newfound strength, as she giggled and squealed. "That's what you wanted?" He asked between gritted teeth as she pressed her eyes close. "Little demon can't get enough of this dick?" He teased as she nodded, now desperately racing towards her release as he suddenly slipped out of her, adjusting the condom with a trembling hand as he manhandles her laughing body onto her stomach, pulling on her lower half as he slipped inside her wet cunt from behind, bringing his inked hand down onto her butt with a loud slap for good measure as she whined. "Oh now you're complaining? Should've known what-" He groaned out in between his words as he grabbed her thighs, pulling her against his relentless hips as she moaned out into the pillow below her. "-Should've know what you got yourself into." He finished, before she arched her back again, reaching behind her to push him off as her eyes teared up from overstimulation. As he saw her painful expression he immediately pulled out of her, pulling the condom off of his erection as he desperately pumped his length, finishing in small spurts on the arch of her back before they both collapsed, breathing heavily.

"Okay, I loved every second of it sugar but-" He exclaimed breathless, as she cuddled up next to him, throwing a leg over his body as he laughed. "What the fuck was that?"

But she simply giggled, mind still too hazy to form any words.

[bxthharmon]

Pink Champagne (1) - Benny Watts x Reader

Words: 2154

Series Warnings: Drinking, substance and alcohol abuse, addiction, smoking

Pt. Warnings: implied alcohol abuse, smoking

A/N: idk how regular updates will be and idk where tf this is going but here we are lol

“masterlist”

“You’re a woman.”

The twelve year old looks up at the speaker, her mother, apprehensive. She does not consider herself as a woman, not yet anyway. Besides, the older woman was drunk - but then again, when wasn’t she? 

“Not only that, you’re a pretty woman, with a kind heart. You’re just like I was.” the mother props her head up with her hands, elbows on the table as she faces her only daughter. “Men will use you. They will hurt you and bring you down and they will break you because they can. Don’t let them. Don’t let them hurt you, be strong. You have brothers, and they are strong, but not like me and you are strong. They fight with their fists and think with their dicks. Us? We fight with our words and think with our brains. Keep your head up, don’t let them push you around.” the women, staring at each other in a conflicting sense of understanding and resentment, stay silent. The mother, resenting her child for still having the opportunities that she missed, and adoring that her daughter could still be something. The young girl, resenting being told how to live her life, but adoring the fact that her mother cared enough to tell her things like this. 

The mother, always the first one to break, stands, stretching, then reaching for another bottle.

-

Paris was everything that was expected. Y/N shopped and drank and fucked in that oddly cinematic way that everything in Paris happened, wasting two months of her life partying. She did a photoshoot for a new advertising campaign for a fashion house she is the ambassador for, and as always, got bored. After six weeks, she wound up in the same position she had been in so many times before, stocking up on months worth of wine, then finishing it within two weeks. After two months in Paris, she lay on top of the covers of her bed, wondering if she should have taken Beth up on her offer. She hadn’t spoken to any of her American friends since she left, and of the people she had seen in person, she knew that they had no connections to her American friends, so she felt safe. 

Out of alcohol and cigarettes, she considered sending the door boy to get some, or even going herself, and decided to do neither. It was at this point that she realised that she had eaten a sum total of four things in two weeks, all of which were snacks, and was drinking herself to death. She decided that she wanted French toast and that overly fancy Columbian pressed coffee from the cafe down the road. She would get cigarettes on the way.  So she dressed and left, greeting the surprised door boy on her way out. She bought her cigarettes, ate her French toast, drank her coffee, then considered her next move.

London was out of the question - she’d only just remembered that she’d sold her apartment. That left New York, Los Angeles or Beth’s offer of Kentucky. Los Angeles never ended well, and she didn’t want to get dragged into anything by her manager. Kentucky or New York? She would have to call Beth  to decide. 

So she traipsed back to her glamorous apartment and dialed Beth’s number, letting it ring out a few times before giving up. So Beth wasn’t at home, was she just out, or in New York? She knew the only way to find out would be through Harry or Benny. She chose Harry. Things between her and Benny were… well, she didn’t know what they were.

“Y/N?”

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

“I am though - you never call.”

“Phone calls are so much hassle.”

“More hassle than seeing people in person?”

She paused, unable to outwit him, especially given the hangover she could feel creeping up on her. “Is Beth in Kentucky at the moment?”

“Beth? No.” he answered, “Why?”

“Do you know where she is?”

“She doesn’t have any tournaments, so New York, why?”

“I want to see her.”

“Why didn’t you just call Benny?”

“Don’t worry, thanks though.”

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be. Bye.”

“Bye?”

She slammed the phone into its holder, sighing loudly. 

She’d always known she would have to see Benny eventually, but even after over two months since that night, she wasn’t ready. Besides, what was to say he wanted to see her? She slumped down into the armchair next to her phone, surveying her room and realising that he had been right - so had Beth - her drinking was getting out of hand. She stood with determination, picking up clothes from around the room and stuffing them into her wardrobe, which was already overflowing, and picking up all the bottles she could find to fill a couple of large paper bags. When she was done, the room felt cleaner, and she dragged the two paper bags out of her apartment and pushed them down the rubbish chute. She returned to her apartment, rummaging around to find a bag in the depths of her wardrobe. Once she had, she carefully picked out clothes, knowing that once she was back in America, the press would be all over her. She had clothes at Benny’s anyway, but she hated travelling without a suitcase - it made her feel bare. Before she left, she grabbed a pair of sunglasses and straightened herself out, checking that she was definitely wearing shoes and that her outfit all matched.

She carried her suitcase down with a little struggle, gave a couple of euros to the door boy for no reason in particular, and caught a taxi to the airport. The taxi driver, having recognised her instantly, seemed restless and kept telling her about how his twelve-year old-daughter wanted to be a model just like Y/N. She brushed it off, paying him well and buying the next flight she could at the front desk, rushing through customs to catch it. She tried to ignore the looks and comments she got as people realised who she was.

She didn’t sleep on the flight, instead ordering drink after drink, wondering what her mother would say if she could see her only daughter. Or Beth for that matter. She didn’t have to wonder what Benny would say, he had said it plenty of times before. When she left the airport, a crusade of reporters were awaiting her, and she had almost forgotten how the press could be. She persevered to a yellow cab, and let it take her to Benny’s. Standing outside, the harsh cold of autumn pushed her towards the door. She descended the steps, pausing when she reached the door, hearing four or five voices inside. Jesus, the whole gang was here. She steeled herself, knocking sharply and stepping away. The door opened abruptly, Beth appearing, at first confused, and then elated. She launched herself at Y/N, the two clinging to each other. Beth stepped back, scanning her friend over, and glancing towards the door. “You look more put together.”

“I don’t feel it.” Y/N admitted, hating the analytical look everyone seemed to give her these days.

“Why are you back here?” Beth murmured, her words kinder than they sounded, “I thought you were in Paris.”

“Well, I was. Then I ended up spending two weeks drinking myself half to death without leaving the room, and thought maybe it was time for a change of scene.”

“You can’t keep running from yourself, it’ll get you nowhere.”

“I know that.”

“Beth!” the two girls turned, “Are you alright out there? Who is it?” 

Benny’s voice, so recognisable, turned into the actual person. He was standing, jeans, a black top and layered necklaces, shock registering on his face. Y/N, who hadn’t proper registered that she was seeing him until that moment, looked like she wanted a black hole to appear beneath her. Pink tinged her cheeks, embarrassment unfamiliar to her, and she stood up straighter, faking confidence.

“Y/N?”

“Hi Benny.” She glanced back at Beth, who looked away. 

“Wait, is that Y/N?”

Arthur and Hilton appeared, and then Cleo, grinning with a drink in hand.

“You’ve been in Paris, eh?” she said, “Of course, you always seem to be there when I am not.”

“I wish you had been.” Y/N grinned, hugging Cleo tightly.

Benny, having come to his senses after the initial shock, stepped forwards, “A drink?”

Y/N looked at him pointedly, “You never have alcohol in this place.”

“But these three always bring some.” he nodded to the three stood next to her with drinks in hand.

“You not drinking at home really sucks ass.” Y/N groaned, concocting herself a makeshift cocktail with the ingredients she had to hand. 

“You know, most people don’t usually have those in pint glasses.” Arthur raised an eyebrow, and Y/N shrugged.

“I’m not most people.” she took a lengthy sip, ignoring the worried glances that her friends shared.

“So,” she looked up from her drink with a bright expression, “what’s going on in the chess world?”

“Well, we’re training Beth.” Benny explained.

“What for? She’s better than all of you.” Y/N frowned, and Beth smirked.

“Paris.” Hilton clarified, the prideful chess players ignoring your comment.

“Let’s do a simultaneous!” Benny offered. 

“Cleo, Y/N, are you joining?” 

“You know we can’t play.” Cleo reprimanded, the pair of you sitting down near the game and watching with interest.

“All of our friends are nerds.” Y/N sighed, “Look at them!”

-

By the time Beth had beaten the other three chess players eight times, Benny gave up. He had decided that Beth could ‘do it’, but was also getting distracted by the fact that Cleo and Y/N had found his records and were blasting The Doors as loud as they could and dancing around his living room. When the game was finished, the apartment was filled with the sound of Soul Kitchen, and any ability to concentrate on the game was impossible. Y/N was standing on his coffee table, eyes closed, bottle in hand, hips swaying. Cleo had her arms in the air, swaying with the rhythm, and the two girls seemed so lost in the music that the four surveyors were almost scared to interrupt. Y/N, murmuring the familiar lyrics, took a swig of the bottle and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one and taking a drag, only then noticing that her friends had stopped playing. “Join us!” She laughed, reaching over, grabbing Beth’s arm, pulling her up onto the table, and trying to get her to dance. At first, the woman only swayed, but found herself dancing more excessively. Cleo took the task of dragging the boys in, and soon the party of six were all laughing and dancing. The song began to draw to a close, when Alyssa turned to Benny, “Got any of The Beatles?”

He pointed to the stack of records, preoccupied with trying to stop Cleo from spilling her drink. Y/N found the Abbey Road album and the dancing picked up as the apartment began to fill with cigarette smoke and Y/N retrieved some whiskey. She drank straight from the bottle, and continued to dance, pushing off the gently guiding hands that Benny was attempting to provide. At some point, Cleo, Arthur and Hilton took their leave, and Beth turned the music down, leaving Y/N with her bottle and cigs as she joined Benny in surveying the drunken girl.

“I haven’t seen her like this in a long time.” Benny observed, and Beth sighed.

“She tries to hide it from you, she knows how you feel about it.” Beth explained.

“I didn’t realise it was this bad.”

Beth looked back at her friend, “She’s worse than I was.”

Benny scoffed a little, “I don’t know how to help her.”

“Wait,” Beth raised an eyebrow mockingly, “You, Benny Watts, wanting to help someone? That’s never happened before.”

“I’m helping you, aren’t I?”

“That’s different.”

Benny sighed, “Where are you going to sleep now that she’s here?”

“I can find a hotel?” she offered.

“Not this late. I’ll sleep on the blow up, you two sleep in my bed.”

“Okay.”

Beth walked up to Y/N, gently prying the bottle from her hand, Y/N turned to her, taking her in with wide eyes - she was always childlike when she was drunk. She watched curiously as Benny began to pump up the blow up bed, and Beth turned the music off. She let Beth sit her down on Benny’s bed, pulling her own clothes off and replacing them with one of Benny’s shirts while Beth helped Benny get all the leftover bottles in the bin. By the time Beth was back in the room, Alyssa was passed out on the far side of the bed, curled up into a tight fetal position. Beth lay down next to her friend, the familiar scent of alcohol conflicting her in both comfort and disgust.

[foreficfandom]

Mystic Messenger - Little Bad Habits (Dating MC)

– Zen –

Litter. Everywhere. Not permanently, he’s not that much of a slob, he does do chores regularly and stuff. But he just ... tosses his clothes and cigarette wrappers and other things literally everywhere, and leaves it for ‘later’. 

Since he’s so anal about his health, he kinda disrupts your own eating habits by coincidence. Grocery shopping can be a challenge when he’s forbidding all desserts and snacks from the cart even though he’s not gonna be eating any of it.

He's bad with technology, so good luck trying to get him to do stuff like answering emails, or paying bills online, or even using apps like Yelp or Uber. You end up in charge of most software in the house. 

It’s sweet that he texts you with random pickup lines and pictures three times a day, but damn it I keep thinking it’s something important I’m expecting, and instead it’s just one of your bathroom selfies with a heart drawn in the fogged up mirror. 

Zen, can you not have these bad tepid takes like ‘women look better without makeup’, or ‘being the man of the house is the mark of being an adult’, or ‘those who couldn’t work for every penny they’ve had don’t deserve it’? No, Zen, let me pout you’re being an idiot right now.

– Yoosung –

AXE bodywash, AXE bodyspray, AXE shampoo. He uses it because it’s ‘manly’? But god it’s so strong and synthetic-smelling. He needs your help in moving away from this brand. 

He’s also prone to clutter, even more so than Zen. It takes a while before he stops leaving all his laundry on the floor and takes that extra step in hanging it up, or folding it into his dresser. And good luck trying to get him to wash dishes every day, rather than leaving it overnight. 

It’d be nice if you were more enthusiastic about my interests, Yoosung. You may not enjoy visiting Sephora as much as I do, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t abandon me at the doorway to hang out at GameStop. 

He does a bunch of these little roommate mistakes like using up all the hot water, or not refilling the Brita, or always leaving the empty toilet paper roll for you. Yoosung, you gotta learn how to live with another person!!

He’ll always be prone to jealousy, which doesn’t cause a problem most days, but if you ever become a fan of some idol or celebrity, be prepared for some pouting, maybe even a cold shoulder or two. He can’t even side-eye the TV like he does catcallers or people on the street, so he’s twice as frustrated. 

– Jaehee –

She’s bad at recycling. She didn’t even do it for a long time, and only started recently. Even now, she’ll toss random plastic bits into either container, paying no mind to whether it’s recyclable or not. She won’t rise milk jugs or tin cans before throwing them away. 

Now that her hair is growing out, she sheds it everywhere. RIP the shower drain, the carpet, the furniture. The two of you gotta invest in rubber mops and lint rollers just for her hair.

She’s a very clean and organized person, except for her makeup, which all sits in a dusty old bag with old leaking bottles getting over everything, brushes and sponges she doesn’t wash, and literally every product is old and expired. And then she kisses you with her lipstick on and causes an acne breakout. 

When she settles down to watch TV while relaxing, she likes to turn her flatscreen up waaayy loud, which is fine unless you’re working on something and the noise is just so distracting. Jaehee, I’m trying to do the books on the cafe, you gotta turn Zen’s musical down!

When she gets colds, she sometimes hides it as long as she can, which makes everyone around her get colds too. She may have been able to avoid a couple of boring sick days, but now you’ve got a sore throat. Thanks, honey, I love you too. 

– Jumin –

He kept calling you in the middle of the day with full expectation that you’d answer every single time, especially during the beginning of the relationship. Jumin, I’ve got my own work. It’s okay if I miss a message or two, I’m not your employee.

He has a physical trainer, dietician, and physician regime that he follows rigorously, and he kinda expected you to do the same even if you didn’t want to. Even now, he brings up a nutrition plan once and a while, even if you are totally not interested in following a food calendar. “It’s for your health, love,” well, Jumin, my health calls for a big bowl of barbecue chips. 

He’s surprisingly clingy in bed. The two of you fall asleep in the middle of the mattress, and by morning you’re hanging on for dear life at the edge of the bed while Jumin is pushing as close to you as humanly possible. More than once you’ve been rudely awakened by falling out of bed and hitting the hard marble floor. 

Jumin, stop entering the bathroom while I’m on the toilet, or in the shower! I close the door for a reason. No it’s not like I wanna avoid you, I just wanna shit in peace

He sometimes makes plans without your input, which works for surprises, but not so much for dinner at the Galaria and he’s already downstairs waiting for you while you’re totally not ready. 

– Saeyoung –

All that Phd. Pepper has to go somewhere, and it tends to escape out of both orifices, so to speak. 

No joke, the boy is gassy. And he teases you with it, like making himself fart right when you decide to sit next to him on the couch just to hear you “EWW!!” and squirm away. You’re lucky you’re cute, 707. 

Even when his work schedule becomes more normal, he still doesn’t keep a regular schedule. He does stretches of days where he stays up until 4am, then he spends the next week sleeping 14 hours a day. It can be hard to spend time with someone who’s either dead tired when you’re awake, or super hyper when you’re about to sleep. 

He’s very particular when it comes to his cars. You can’t eat or drink in them, not even gum. You can’t put your feet anywhere except squarely in the footrests, god forbid you absentmindedly rest them against the dashboard. No picking at the leather, no scratching the carbon fiber, you can pet the soft velvet but you’re on thin ice. 

Saeyoung, can you shower more, please? You smell like old ham and your hair isn’t doing so good either. Yes, I will give you a kiss, but only if you hop in the bathtub right now. 

– Saeran –

Like his brother, his sleeping schedule is wack. He’ll spend several all-nighters and then clonk out for a long while, too tired to do anything. And not because of work, either, he just doesn’t have a good sleep schedule. 

Loves to cook, hates to clean. Leaves all the dirty dishes, pans and pots, and countertops for as long as humanly possible, which means someone else is usually the one stuck cleaning it all up. It gets better when the household arranges duties for everyone so Saeran’s in charge of meals while another cleans up afterwards, but even then it can still get dirty.

Sweats in his sleep, which is further exacerbated by some of his medication. Sleeping next to him means sticky skin and wet bedsheets. He has to wash his pajamas every other day.

You gotta hide your sweets or else Saeran’s gonna steal them. He stress-eats during his worse days, and besides that he’s just got a monster sweet tooth, so he’ll finish his entire pint of ice cream and steals yours, too. Then he finds your hidden package of gingersnap cookies and oops, there goes your snack.

He hates having his hair cut, it’s a weird sensory experience for him and he gets anxious while having to sit still for so long. He won’t go to the salon so he tries to cut it himself, which hogs up the bathroom for two hours and leaves shed hair all over the sink. Once you start helping him, he feels better about the experience.

– Jihyun –

He cannot be trusted with the laundry. He shrinks all the knitwear, keeps forgetting to clean the lint tray, and all his whites are no longer white. You gotta be in charge if you don’t want your wardrobe to end up like his. 

Jihyun, I know you grew up with money but when the toilet is clogged you don’t call the plumber, you take this plunger and try to unclog it yourself with bleach. And no, we don’t need a new refrigerator just because the light bulb burst. 

He’s surprisingly tough to sleep next to in bed. You eventually get used to it, but for a while you kept getting kicked by his long limbs, or getting punched by a flailing arm. And he drools, too, sometimes onto your hair. 

Why. Do you. Clip your nails on the bed. Ew, stop that. 

He’s prone to getting caught up in hipster food trends, like superfood phenomenons. Jihyun, you know that apricot pits are poisonous, right? I know the co-op recommended them but I gotta feel like that’s a marketing gimmick. Please don’t eat them, put those down. 

[kjhmyg]

hey! i’m not sure if you’re still taking prompts, but rough edges jk and y/n spending the night/sharing a bed for the first time could be an idea. love your writing!!

pairing: jungkook x reader, genre: fluff, college!au, bf!jk, word count: 1.7k

a/n: cute prompt :( i assume you mean before they got physical, so this is early on in the relationship. i hope you like it! and thank you!

“So you see,” you point to the assignment on your desk, scribbling notes along the margin, “you just need to elaborate on your points more.” 

Jungkook hums, sitting back on your chair, hands behind his head. He hears you, but he’s not listening. The way he stares could burn holes onto the side of your face. With a glance in his direction, you tap the tip of your pen on the desk, directing his attention back to the assignment. It works momentarily, before his eyes dart back to you. 

“And um,” you fidget in your seat, “you should probably stick to the structure⎯”

Pushing against the floor with his foot, the swivel chair closes the distance between you and Jungkook tips your head in his direction with a finger under your chin. “You do know that I only used this as an excuse to come see you.” He says quietly, eyeing your lips. “Did you miss me? Cause I missed you.”

An hour ago, he’d called to ask for help on an assignment. It was almost ten, so you hesitated. But you hadn’t seen him in days because of your schedules and you so desperately wanted to. So did he, apparently.

“Oh, um.” You gulp, hating the way he makes you so nervous around him. It’s worse when you haven’t seen him in a while. “I guess I did…miss you.”

“You guess?” 

You take a breath and look away. “I missed you.” 

He smiles then, closing the gap between your lips for a sweet kiss. When he pulls away, you pout, looking at him with a certain look in your eyes that he’s grown to recognise. It makes him chuckle, observing you carefully. “One moment you can’t even tell me you miss me. Next, you wanna make out.”

Your eyes go wide and you resist the urge to argue because he’s right. Biting your bottom lip, you look away, back to the table and forgotten piece of assignment laying there. “Here.” You hand it back to him. There’s a small smile on your lips as you tidy up the place, trying to cover up the embarrassment.

“Kicking me out already?” He sighs, watching your back as you move. 

“No.” You say, turning back around. “I’m just…well, you didn’t really need any help so.”

“Are you angry that I lied?” The look on his face tells you he’s not actually bothered by it. He’s just trying to study you. 

“No, of course not.” You smile, leaning against your desk. “I wanted to see you too.” 

He breaks out into a grin and you look away again, feeling awkward. His hand reaches for yours and he tugs you closer, hugging your middle. Hands rest on his shoulders and you smile down at him, cupping his face. It’ll take a while before you get used to this. 

“Listen, I’ll be away tomorrow,” he starts. “You probably won’t be able to get a hold of me all weekend. I’ll see you again next week.”

“That’s okay.” You nod, trying to manage a smile to mask the disappointment. “We can hang out when you’re back.”

Nodding, he sighs, like he doesn’t want to go either. There’s momentary panic when you watch him get ready to leave, swinging his bag over his shoulder. Your thoughts fight each other internally as you stand there, contemplating. 

“I should let you get some rest.” He smiles. “See you.” 

It isn’t until he turns to leave that you come to a decision. He turns back to look at the hand clutching on to his sleeve. Eyebrows raised, he looks at you questioningly. 

“Do you want to maybe…stay the night?” You ask in a soft voice. “You don’t have to but you can.  Only if you want to.” 

“No,” he says. Your heart drops, and your mouth goes dry, inner voice screaming at you. But then his hand slips into yours, “Only if you want to, I’ll stay.” 

“Oh.” You smile sheepishly and he waits for your reply. “I…want you to stay.”

With a smile, his bag drops to the floor and he brings your face in for a chaste kiss. “Then I’m staying.”

As Jungkook washes up, you lie on the bed, trying to calm your nerves. Surely it’ll be okay, you reassure yourself, checking your reflection in the mirror a couple of times. It won’t be so bad. Worst case scenario, he’d wake up with some drool on him. Or you snoring into his ear. “Oh god.” You groan and roll over to scream into a pillow, then take a deep breath before you spiral any further. 

Jungkook comes out of the shower shirtless, using a towel to dry his hair. You pretend to be busy on your phone, watching him from the corner of your eye as he walks around the room to hang up a towel and pick up a shirt. When he pulls it over his head, you silently thank the heavens. You definitely don’t need any more distractions tonight. 

“Sorry, my bed is kinda small.” You say, making space for him to join you as he approaches. “We’re gonna have to squeeze.” 

“Perfect.” It squeaks under his weight as he carefully finds his position right next to you. The small space makes it easy for him to put his hands on you, holding you close. You can smell the soap he used and how soft his skin feels under your touch. “Thanks for letting me stay. I’m surprised, didn’t think you’d ask me to.” 

“I haven’t seen you much all week.” You pout, brushing hair away from his face. “I didn’t want to wait another week to be with you.” 

“Cute.” He comments, kissing that pout away. “You know, I haven’t been to your cafe in a while. The only reason I went was because of the pretty barista. But now I don’t have to use coffee as an excuse to see her anymore.” 

“Yeah, now you use assignments as your excuse.” You bite your lip. “Also, your regular order is a caramel frappuccino. That’s barely coffee.” 

“Well I like sweet things.” He whispers, tracing his index finger along your bottom lip. 

He leans in for soft kisses. One, two, three times, and then you push yourself up to level your face with his and he lets you pull him in for a deeper kiss. Over your pajamas, his hands roam across your body. A hand stops over your chest, just under your left breast where he can feel the way your heart beats a mile a minute. 

“You’re nervous.” He comments, studying your face. “Is it me? Do I make you nervous?”

“A little.” You admit, biting your bottom lip in the way he finds adorable. 

“Why?”

You shrug and play with the hem of your top. “I don’t know. Haven’t you ever felt nervous around someone you like?” 

The words slip out before you can stop them and your fingers scramble over your lips, eyes going wide when you realise, you just admitted your feelings for him for the first time. He laughs, squeezing you in a hug as you bury your face in his chest. 

“I get it. There’s this person, I can’t stop thinking about her. It’s weird.” He says, and you move away from him, curious. He’s looking away, in thought. “It’s like…I can’t get enough of her, you know?”

“Oh.” You gulp. “Lucky…” You mutter to yourself, feeling bitter at the thought of him being infatuated with someone else. 

“But she’s shy,” he hovers over you as he continues, “and I’m always careful around her because I don’t,” he kisses you, “want,” kiss, “to scare her off.” Kiss. “She makes me nervous.” 

Your hands on the sides of his face, you trace his features with your thumbs as he smiles down at you. “Really?” He nods. “Just so we’re clear, you’re talking about me, right?”

He laughs, then presses his body against yours as he kisses you, arms by the side of your head and yours around his. “You’re supposed to be the smart one here.” 

“Well, this is a tricky situation!” You huff. “You have a lot of admirers. I wouldn’t know if you’re seeing other girls too.” 

“I haven’t seen anyone else since our date.” 

“Really? Why?” 

He shrugs and rolls to the side, on his back, where he slips his arm under your neck. “Thought about you a lot after. Kinda just wanted to see you.” 

“Me too.” You say, snuggling up to him. “Can I be honest? I wasn’t expecting much when we went out the first time. I just knew you as this handsome, popular guy, but that’s it. Then we started to hang out more and I…kinda just want to see where this goes.” 

“I do too.” He hums, rubbing your back. After a while in silence, your eyes slowly start to flutter to a close, making him chuckle. “You must be tired.”

“I had a long day.” You admit, regretful you can’t stay up much longer, especially knowing he’d be gone in the morning. You place your hand over the side of his face, stroking it gently, then moving up to his hair, patting it gently.

“This is nice.” He says. “We should have sleepovers more often.” 

“Yeah, we could paint each other’s nails and braid each other’s hair. Talk about boys all night.” You chuckle, pressing your lips together to hide a smile. 

He tickles your side and you yelp, covering your mouth right after while your other hand tries to stop him. With a finger to your lips, you shush him, “Hana’s sleeping in the other room.” 

“She’ll get used to it.” He grins, shrugging it off. “I think I’m gonna be spending a lot of time here with you.”

“We’ll see about that.” 

You roll over to switch off the lamp on your nightstand, leaving only the faint street light coming in through the window. It makes only part of his face visible and you smile at him, even though he can’t see you. His arm pulls you in closer by the waist and you snuggle up to him, resting your head against his chest, as your own hand wraps loosely around his waist. With a kiss on the top of your head, he rests his chin on you. You let yourself melt into him, with the sound of his breathing and steady heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

[junquisite]

Fated to love 2

PAIRING : Park Junhee X OC X Kim Wooseok

GENRE : Fluff, Angst

WORD COUNT : 2.9k

PARTS :  I+P  1  2

AUTHOR’S NOTE : From now on italics mean that its real but from a past moment, so memories are in italics, regular font means present.

Seungyoun joined Wooseok at the cafe he invited him to and wooseok scowled at the first words that left his friend’s mouth.

“So what did you fucked up now?” 

“I did no such thing.” Wooseok gritted out as he passed Seungyoun’s usual order towards him - Latte and a pastry while he sipped on his ice americano. He vaguely noticed how similar Seungyoun and Bora’s tastes are but then the both of them used to love going to different restaurants and cafes together so.

 “You only specifically call me for breakfast when you do something. And Bora has returned from swiss 2 weeks ago. Thats too long for you to not fuck up.” Seungyoun  concluded as he happily smiled at his visibly pissed friend.

Wooseok sighed and told Seugnyoun everything - from the party to the dinner he crashed. Seungyoun stared at him for far too long he was comfortable with so he fidgeted with his phone.

“I don't know if you intentionally do this but why do you act like an asshole to her when you love her?”

Wooseok sputtered a loose explanation about how it was not his fault but Seungyoun knew it was just his jealousy acting up - which knowing Wooseok, he would never accept. Seungoyun also pointedly noted how he didn't deny the part that he was in love with her and that was interesting. 

“Apologise to her Wooseok. You were too much.” Seungyoun finally said and Wooseok nodded - already planning on how to apologise to her.

~

“I am so sorry i had to call you both in so late! I wanted to meet for lunch but I had an important meeting, but thank you for making time to meet me at this time!” Junhee saw as she trailed off when she looked up and only saw him.

“Where is Donghun?” she asked and he nodded outside.

“He had an important call, he’ll be in soon.”  he said and she nodded and got back up from the crouching position she was in before with her back towards him which led to her rambling as she had done. 

There was an awkward silence in the office as she fumbled with the papers and he kept staring at her.

“Did Donghun say anything after you left?” she asked finally and he nodded in a negative.

“Why?”

“He's too smart to not figure out that we have known each other longer than meeting yesterday for the first time.” she remarked and Junhee shrugged.

“He figured you were the girl I met at switzerland. He wanted to know if I was uncomfortable working with you and wanted to cancel the collaboration.” he said and saw as her eyes widened, she really wanted this to happen.

“Oh..do you want to? Cancel it?” she asked softly and he wanted to go close to her, comfort her and promise her to even bring the stars if she asked for, this collaboration was nothing.

“No. we’ll move forward with it.”

She nodded and the room fell in silence again.

He saw her hesitate and sigh. “Why..did he think you would be uncomfortable with working with me?” she asked and he mentally debated if he should tell how he was when he got back. Finally he decided to come clean, she should know that he's here, and now in front of her.

“When i got back.. It was hard to concentrate on work - i  could only think of you. A girl i met in switzerland whom i knew nothing about more than that she lived in seoul and was returning a week after me. So the sunday you were supposed to come back, a day before i checked all the flights coming to seoul from swiss, even checked the ones who’ll have pit stops. There were 7 in total and I was ready to spend the whole day at the airport just to see you again. He stopped me.

He said something which made me listen to him and not come.”

He saw that she was staring at him wide-eyed, hanging on his every word.

“He said i left my contact number to her and she still hasn't texted me for the whole week. That i was just a vacation fling for her and meant nothing more then that and that i need to stop being dumb.” he finished.

He saw her flinch as he was talking but that was exactly what Donghun had told him. And she needed to know it too.

“I'm sorry  I was late, should we get started?” Donghun asked as he came in and the gloomy mood of the room slightly lifted as Bora gave him a strained smile. If Donghun noticed it, he didn't comment on it.

“I ordered us Sandwiches. I hope you both will like it.'' She said as she passed both of them Subway bags and Junhee took his, only to look inside and find a chocochip cookie which was missing from Donghun’s as he saw him emptying the content on the table.

He looked across at her to see she was avoiding his eyes.

“It's 3 am.” she said incredulously staring at him.

“You don't know the fun of eating Subway sandwiches at 3 am.” as he wrapped a scarf around her and pulled her outside her room. Junhee pulled a whiney Bora to the subway 5 minutes away from her Hotel and went to order 2 chicken sandwiches and ice tea.

“Cookie?” he asked her and she said no.

He came back with one chocochip cookie though.

“I love these. I sometimes feel like Subway chocochip cookies are the best ever in the world.” he said as he took a big bite of it and moaned in pleasure. She slapped his arm in between her laughs.

Junhee took a  bite of his cookie. She remembered it seemed. Now was it a good sign actually or not, he wondered.

~

Bora was tired and only craving her bed by the time she reached home. So she was not expecting any guest - and especially not Kim Wooseok. So when she saw him, a sigh involuntarily slipped through her mouth.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I brought dinner.” he said as he showed her the bag he was holding. It was the restaurant she loved but it only took advance bookings and she was sure this was an impromptu visit so it meant he paid whoever had the chance to bring her food. She vaguely wondered how much he paid the person.

“How long have you been here?” she asked as she realised it was almost midnight - way past dinner time.

“A while.” he muttered and she sighed. It meant hours.

“Why didn't you wait inside? The code is the same as we set when we bought this.” she muttered as she walked past him to open the door and wave him inside.

“I didn't want to intrude.” he answered and she scoffed, turning around to stare at him.

“Why are you actually here Wooseok?” she asked and he looked away, clearly avoiding her eyes. She saw as his ear reddened and she raised an eyebrow.

“I wanted to apologise.. For the party and yesterday dinner too.” he muttered while looking down at the floor and she ran a hand through her hair. Her face softened.

“I have had dinner already.” she settled on as he looked up at her and nodded, slightly looking like a kicked puppy. “I’ll get going then. Goodnight.” he told her as he turned to leave.

“Wooseok..” she called his name and he turned around. He looked young but tired, like how they used to be when they used to have their finals and would spend nights living on energy drinks and coffees - no matter how cold their relationship had turned now and how much she hated his guts now- he was still her best friend that she has known since kindergarten.

“Stay.. i’ll sit with you while you eat. And you can sleep in the guest room.”

~

Bora woke up to the smell of fresh eggs and toast and coffee and if you ask her, that probably is what heavens smell like to her. She freshened up and then dragged herself to her kitchen to see Wooseok cooking her breakfast.

“Did you knew you had nothing in your refrigerator except for alcohol?” he asked her and she shrugged.

“I'm pretty sure there was coffee somewhere here.” she said vaguely pointing to her kitchen and he shook his head at her.

“I had to go out for grocery shopping to make you breakfast.” he said as he served her and she thanked him.

“Take whatever food is left to your house though, it’ll go bad here.” she said as Woosoek joined her in eating.

“Shouldn't you learn how to cook about now?” he asked her and she shrugged.

“I usually grab breakfast either at the office or the coffee shop in front of it. Or at the main house if i'm summoned. Plus there’s no one around to teach me to cook.'' She spoke the last part lowly and Wooseok felt his heart clench.

“You can always ask my mom, she would love to teach you.”

As soon as the words slipped his mouth, her head shot up to stare at him as if he grew out another head.

“She hates me Wooseok.” she said with such a painfully straight face that it made even him laugh.

Breakfast ended and she helped him with the dishes.

“I’ll get going now. I have to go home and get dressed too.” he said and she nodded as she walked him to the door.

“Bora..” he trailed off and she smiled at him and for a second he felt like they were back in highschool where she would happily follow him around, laughing with him and making him feel like he was at the top of the world.

“Seungyoun said everyone was meeting for meat and drinks today. You wanna join?”

She looked to be thinking, probably thinking of her schedule.

“Sure. i'm in. i haven't seen him and the guys in a long while too!” she agreed and he smiled. He was already imagining telling a cocky Seungyoun that not only he apologised but she also agreed for the night out - he couldn't wait to see the look on his best friend's face.

“And Wooseok..” her voice brought him out of his thoughts. “Next time you wanna grab dinner, tell me. If not a day before then at least an hour before. I'll clear my schedule for you.” she said with a smile and his heart skipped a beat. This was the Bora he fell in love with all those years ago.

~

She entered the Barbeque place and the smell hanging in the air reminded her of Highschool and University - when times were better she thought. Once inside, she made her way to the table with the loudest voices and found her friends- Wooseok and Seungwoo were the only silent and smiling ones at the table - the other three were the creators of the noise - Hangyul, Yohan and Seungyoun who all looked halfway drunk. She was only half an hour late from the decided time though.

She took a seat between Seungwoo and Wooseok as Seungyoun passed her a glass of beer.

“I literally just got here.”

“And you have to compensate for the half hour you’re late for.” Seungyoun cheekily said as he passed her a shot of Soju which she happily took. Seungwoo passed her a plate of snacks and she thanked him softly.

An hour passed with drinks and talks and taunts to Bora for not meeting the others more. But it was all good and Wooseok was slightly tipsy and Seungyoun was trying to sober him surprisingly. It was just that Seungyoun had a good alcohol tolerance and Wooseok did not. And drunk Wooseok is clingy as the hand wrapped around her waist and head leaning on her shoulder was reminding her. It was vaguely reminding her of how close they used to be before and suddenly the alcohol in her system felt too much and the restaurant felt suffocating. 

She suddenly stood up, Wooseok almost falling on the seat as he was leaning on her and she asked Seungwoo to move, mumbling about needing fresh air. She really needed some.

She was standing outside as the cold air blew and saw the time. A little over 11 pm, none of them will even consider going home before 1 and she sighed. She tugged out her pack of cigarettes and a lighter as she lit one. She wasn't an avid smoker - only smoking occasionally when stressed and the friendly dinner with old friends was leading into dangerous territories - from highschool memories to her and Wooseok almost dating to their sudden engagement. It was frustrating since she knew the reason behind all his attention on her now - he wanted to marry her.

“Fancy seeing you here.” she heard someone speak behind her and turned around to see a smiling Junhee coming to stand beside her. She wanted to scowl at his smiling face but also apologise for never texting him again. She hadn't been able to sleep much last night because she kept thinking about what Junhee had said.

“I didn't know you smoke.” he commented as she took a drag of it and let the smoke out.

“I don't usually. But a tough day makes me want to take one.” she said as she took another drag and Junhee turned around to leave.

“Wait, where are you going?” she asked as he looked behind at her, face unreadable.

“I can't stand the smoke.” he said as he turned and started walking towards the alleyway beside the restaurant. She looked at the cigarette in her hand. Cursing lowly, she threw it on the ground and stomped it with her heels as she walked after him.

“Wait for me!”

~

After making sure Wooseok was sober enough to not fall, Seungyoun got up to follow behind Bora. He had felt her getting uncomfortable by minute as they kept talking about her and Wooseok and he wanted to make sure she was fine. And also maybe not to be so disgusted by the fact that she was engaged to Wooseok now.

He walked out to see a man standing beside her and paused a little behind, making sure to hide himself but also hear what they were talking about.

“I didn't know you smoke.” the man commented and Seungyoun was surprised that he actually knew her.

“I don't usually. But a tough day makes me want to take one.” he felt guilty when she said that. Was she that uncomfortable with the idea of marrying Wooseok? Isn't she the same person who would blush whenever Wooseok said anything directly to her and literally told him in the morning that she would clear any schedule for him?

“Wait, where are you going?” he heard say and looked up to see the man turning to walk towards the side alleyway.

“I can't stand the smoke.” he said simply and Seungyoun sighed. It brought back memories of the many times anyone had ever told her to not smoke.

It started during University. A huge fight between Wooseok and her that no one ever found the reason for and she went out alone at night. Seungyoun had found himself opening the door of his apartment to a drunk Bora at 4 in the morning smelling strongly of alcohol and smoke.

Since then, she had smoked on multiple occasions followed by someone telling her not to and her retoriting with something.

“You should not smoke.” Seungwoo had told her and she had just shrugged in response, choosing to not smoke in his presence out of respect but not listening.

“The smoke bothers me.” Wooseok had complained once. With a cigarette between her lips, she walked to the door of the apartment and opened it for him saying, “feel free to leave.”

“Smoking kills you eventually.” Aerin had said.

“So does life at one point.” Bora had retorted.

“Can you stop smoking?” he had followed after Aerin who was snuggled in his arms.

“Shut up.” was the crude response he got as she laughed and he joined, taking the cigarette from her hand to take a drag himself.

So maybe he was not the best person but she also has never listened. So when Seungyoun saw her throwing the cigarette down and running after the guy, something dropped in his stomach.

He went back in and joined the others. 

“Where is she?” Wooseok asked and Seungyoun shrugged.

“Did not see her. Maybe she went in the side alley to smoke.” he said, not willing to put doubts in the head of a drunk Wooseok. But sober Wooseok has to know. She came about 20 minutes after Seungyoun had come back and the smile and the slight flush of her cheeks were bothering him a bit too much. So he decided he’ll give him some sort of warning at least.

That's Why Wooseok woke up the next day with a killer headache and a text awaiting on his phone from Seungyoun saying, ‘You should have a serious talk with Bora about the engagement.’

[dumbepiphany]

26 Klance Fanfiction Recommendations

There is a heck of a lot of good Klance fanfiction out there. And while some may be easy to find because of how popular they are, there are many others that are buried in the depths of ao3 that I feel like more people should be reading!!

A lot of these are quite popular fics that you probably would have heard of already, but I hope there’s something in here that’s new, and that you’ll enjoy reading!

All are recommended for Teen And Up Audiences, so please be mindful!

1. Hearts Don’t Break Around Here

By Klancekorner on AO3

Description: Lance and Keith have been best friends since first grade. Lance’s brain is always on overdrive and Keith’s blunt, realistic ass can never keep up. They both come to realize that sometimes you can learn a lot about loving yourself by loving someone else.

Words: 135,555 | Chapters: 13/13 | Warnings: creator chose not to use

My note: This is my absolute favourite Klance fic. Childhood friends to lovers- what more could one ask for?

2. Squad Up

By astralscrivener on AO3

Description: In which the team is in high school, and Lance makes a group chat (ft. college graduates Shiro, Matt, and Allura). (A generic bandwagon chatfic because why are these so fun to write????)

Words: 327,144 | Chapters: 140/140 | Warnings: none

My note: The chatfic format is super fun to read. A lot of fluff!!

3. A Midsummer Night’s Meme

By astralscrivener on AO3

Description: Same group chat, new shenanigans. Or, the team's final summer before Keith, Lance, Hunk, and Shay begin college, as Pidge navigates the waters of young love, Keith and Shiro deal with family issues, Lance has a trip to Cuba, and more. Sequel to Squad Up.

Words: 79,457 | Chapters: 27/27 | Warnings: none

My note: If you read Squad Up, you must read the sequel! The storyline is really cool and the boys are Soft:)

4. Ignorance is Bliss

By YouAreInAComaWakeUp (Nikanaiko) on AO3

Description: As it turns out, learning that your house is haunted makes the ghosts a lot more aggressive. Who knew? Ah, well. At least one of them is hot. And he's the less-evil one, too, so that's always a plus.

Words: 172,675 | Chapters: 30/30 | Warnings: graphic depictions of violence

My note: Oh God this fic. C’mon, it’s Ghost Keith and Human Lance... and they bond... need I say more?

5.   Shut Up and Dance With Me

By wittyy_name on AO3

Description: Lance and his friends have been regulars at the Altea Dance Studio for years. Not just for classes, but to hang out, practice, and spend time with good people who love dancing. Every year, they audition to be one of the few representing Altea at the regional dance competition. Lance always auditions solo, but this year he misses out on auditions and blows his chance to participate. And so does his self-proclaimed rival, Keith. Luckily, Shiro comes up with a brilliant plan: convince Lance and Keith to audition as a duo.With a little convincing, and a lot of effort, these two might just be able to pull it off and go to regionals... or they might crash and burn.

Words: 249,827 | Chapters: 15/15 | Warnings: none

My note: One of the first fics I read. Super sweet and fluffy, great storyline, complete with art by wolfpainters! Tbh any dance AU fic is a good fic

6. Chivalry is Dead

By Sheksper on AO3

Description: Prince Lance was an adventurer. That was all there was to it. So, when he's suddenly assigned a new knight to follow him around, all Lance can think is that his freedom is being taken away, and it's all because of the red-clad, mullet boy named Keith, who is honestly just trying not to lose his job on the first day.

Words: 61,071 | Chapters: 17/17 | Warnings: graphic depictions of violence

My note: Prince Lance and Knight Keith is a concept to die for and it’s written so so well in this story!!

7. Nothing’s Quite As Sweet

By dimpleforyourthoughts on AO3

Description: Keith is a barista who hates his job. Lance works at the cat shelter across the street.

Words: 50,369 | Chapters: 1/1 | Warnings: none

*You need to have an account to be able to see this fic!*

My note: A traditional must-read cafe/cat shelter fic! It’s got coffee and cats... the Softness levels are through the roof

8. The Fallen and the Wandering

By creeshtar on AO3

Description: Keith was born into a world of ice and darkness, with no sun to rise or stars to shine. In spite of humanity’s best efforts, the world is meeting a slow, but certain doom, which can only be stopped if the sun is found and replaced in the sky. Keith, meanwhile, is content to collect stars and eventually replace them in the sky, alongside a new partner that he can’t seem to help but gravitate towards--until a mysterious person with inhuman power goes on a warpath to find the sun for herself. Keith and his partner are unwittingly thrown into the race to find the sun first, only for Keith to discover, to his dismay, that it may be closer than he could’ve ever wanted.

Words: 106,108 | Chapters: 12/12 | Warnings: creator chose not to use

My note: The writing and the AU concept is gorgeous and intriguing, props to the author for the world-building and the gratuitous fluff and angst!!

9. Love Interest

By iwriteshipsnotsailthem on AO3

Description: Lance is getting his big American debut on a new T.V series called Voltron. He's excited and nervous about how amazingly talented and famous his cast members are. But most importantly Lance is anticipating meeting his character -Leandro's- love interest in the show. Who happens to played by the be mega famous, mega hot Keith Kogane. But due to a misunderstanding during their first encounter, Lance now thinks Keith is the biggest jerk alive. Keith now has to try and fix it, for the sake of the show, and also for the sake of their on screen romance, which may start venture off screen as well.

Words: 195,400 | Chapters: 50/50 | Warnings: creator chose not to use

My note: If you love Klance and you love Leakira, then get ready for... Klance as actors portraying Leakira!!

10. (Unofficially) VLD- Season 9

By hoelko on AO3

Description: The Universe has been saved. The war is over. Voltron is no longer needed. But that's the thing about the Universe. It's always getting bigger.

Words: 225,777 | Chapters: 15/15 | Warnings: none

My note: This fic was everything the fandom deserved but never got. Hoelko is our God. Worship this fic.

11. ‘Til We Meet the Dawn

By angstinspace on AO3

Description: Keith is a mage and Lance is a knight, and they've been best friends since childhood. For years, Keith has known that Lance carries a dark secret: that if he doesn't kiss his true love before he turns twenty, he'll die. Now only three days remain before Lance's twentieth birthday, and Keith and Lance are sent on a dangerous quest to rescue Romelle––who Lance believes will be the one to break his curse. But what he doesn't know is that Keith is already hopelessly in love with him.

Words: 75,242 | Chapters: 1/1 | Warnings: none

My note: Magic! Fantasy! Knights! Curses! True love! Angst! Fluff! All that good jazz rolled into one glorious fic!!

12. Follow My Lead

By Klancekorner on AO3

Description: Becoming “hook-up buddies” with Lance Sanchez was just supposed to be a small, insignificant fraction of Keith’s life. But of course, things don’t work out that way at all. aka a Friends w/ Benefits AU that nobody asked for where Lance wears sleeveless hoodies, plays basketball in abandoned parking lots, and follows his dreams, and Keith comes from a high class, reputable family who never let him have any dreams of his own. They go home with each other and don't expect it to matter until it totally does.

Words: 117,792 | Chapters: 14/14 | Warnings: NSFW

My note: Everyone needs a little bit of no-strings-attached-turns-into-catching-feelings in their life! Just be careful with the nsfw!

13. Something Just Like This

By Klancekorner on AO3

Description: Keith reluctantly becomes the counselor for the Red Cabin at Camp Voltron, a summer camp in the middle of buttfuck nowhere that his older brother Shiro has worked at for years. Already unhappy with the current position that he is in, Keith prepares himself for a boring, sweaty, miserable summer; and his frustration only grows when he meets the counselor for the Blue Cabin- an insufferable asshole with a horrible sense of humor, a devilish smirk, an inexplicable animosity towards the Red Cabin, and a smile that literally looks like the sun. Needless to say Keith is really, really unprepared for the next three months.

Words: 58,800 | Chapters: 12/12 | Warnings: NSFW

My note: A Very Soft Fic. A truly Soft Soft Fic. It has little kids in it,, it’s adorable and fluffy,, makes you squeal into your pillow,, please read!

14. The Marks We Make

By wittyy_name on AO3

Description: Lance McClain constantly dreams of the day he'll finally meet his mysterious soulmate. They don't say much, if anything at all, but they leave him with gorgeous paintings temporarily tattooing his skin. It's not exactly the situation he hoped for, but when he feels the connection between them, he can't bring himself to resent them. As much as he wishes his soulmate would just talk to him, he's resigned himself to being patient. In the meantime, he has a loving family and good friends to help him get by. Keith Kogane dreads the day he'll finally meet his obnoxious soulmate. He's just an art student who's struggling to find his place in the world. There's so much he hasn't been able to control in his life, and the thought of having a soulmate, just another thing in his life which he also has no control over yet can't do anything about, is a little terrifying. So he ignores the words that occasionally appear on his skin. He has other things to focus on: like being a new student at a big university where his childhood friend and step-brother go.

Words: 255,302 | Chapters: 12/12 | Warnings: none

My note: The soulmate AU that everyone needed. Complete with art by wolfpainters!

15. Lucky in Rivalry

By iwriteshipsnotsailthem on AO3

Description: After moving back to his hometown after ten years, Keith is being shoved back into the life of an unexpected individual who was his so called 'rival' from music school. How is Keith supposed to explain to Lance that he hasn't sung for a crowd in all those years after his disappearance? Lance is the town's favourite gig at Voltron Cafe. He's lively and has the voice that makes girls go weak. He's also one half of the cutest couple in school. Him and Lotor are what everyone wants in a relationship, but behind closed doors it's a bit of a different story. How much more can Lance take before he cracks?

Words: 134,484 | Chapters: 45/45 | Warnings: creator chose not to use

My note: True love, music and singing, high school drama, this fic has the whole lot! Give it a go, you won’t regret!!

16. Drummer Boy

By Klancekorner on AO3

Description: Lance is 100%, without a doubt, straight. He has the perfect girlfriend and has never wanted anything more. But suddenly his world is being turned upside down by the boy playing the drums at his local bar--a boy who happens to be very good looking, very gay, and very very interested in Lance. aka: Good-Boy Lance has a crisis when he meets Keith because he's so damn attractive, and Keith is a little ho that is way too promiscuous and open about his sexuality. The become friends. Confusion and sexual tension ensue.

Words: 50,188 | Chapters: 11/11 | Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, rape/non-con

My note: This one is a great read, but it’s a pretty sexy fic. Read the warnings and stay safe, avoid it if it isn’t your cup of tea!

17. On Thin Ice

By anonimina on AO3

Description: This multi-chapter fic chronicles the lives of a hockey player named Keith who gets enlisted into figure skating lessons by his brother, Shiro, to "work on his footwork". There he meets a pompous - yet talented - figure skater named Lance and gets swept away by both the sport and the skater. Or: the not-so-simple story of two people trying to navigate the complexities of living in an ever changing world and face the traumas they've buried far away from the sunlight.

Words: 205,795 | Chapters: 11/11 | Warnings: none

My note: Figure skating and hockey playing! This fic is emotional and fluffy and very very adorable! Just a warning- it’s unfinished, so the last chapter is basically a summary and dot points of what the planned ending was!

18. Life After Death

By taylortot on AO3

Description: Fear clambers into his mouth and tastes bitter on his tongue. “Who are you?” It takes him a moment to register the sound of his own voice. She stares at him. Blinks. “Lance, please, this isn’t time for one of your jokes--” He furrows his eyebrows and struggles to sit up, to stop leaning into the cradle of her arms. “I’m not--I’m not...joking.” * After sacrificing himself to save Allura, Lance wakes up in a strange new world where the only thing he knows is a deep connection to a boy he doesn't remember.

Words: 90,074 | Chapters: 13/14 | Warnings: none

My note: The Feels. The Feels are strong with this one. Memory loss always hits super hard, be prepared for angst (but also comfort and fluff!)

19. Homesick at Space Camp

By Kobot on AO3

Description: Lance realizes he's been an asshole to Keith, and on a diplomatic mission to a key planet for the Voltron alliance he... overcompensates.

Words: 74,280 | Chapters: 15/15 | Warnings: graphic depictions of violence

My note: Fake marriage AU! FA K E M a R Ri A G E AU!!! Need I say more?

20. I Bet You Look Good On The Dance Floor

By xShieru on AO3

Description: "So like in 'Step Up'?" Allura shrugs. "Now that you put it like that - yes. I guess it's just like in 'Step Up'." The smile that she sends Shiro's way - followed by a shy wave, eugh - is sickening to say the least, and Lance still doesn't believe in dance camps. Lance McClain's dancing career begins and ends with Keith. Keith just wants to find out what Lance's deal is.

Words: 43,295 | Chapters: 7/7 | Warnings: none

My note: A steamy, fluffy dancing AU fic! I read this ages ago so I can’t really remember what happened but it was GOOD!!

21. Watercast

By fishwrites on AO3

Description: Shiro has been a Galra prisoner for over a year; with his flight feathers clipped and unable to fly. Desperate to escape, he jumps overboard while being transported to the capitol on a Galran ship. Lance is a merman who saves him from drowning. Keith thinks Shiro is about to become mermaid dinner. Hunk just wants Lance to stop going to the surface all the time, dammit! (AU where Avians (winged folk), Galra, humans and merfolk cohabit earth. Shiro and Keith are avian soldiers, Lance is the youngest son of a Queen, Hunk is also a merman and Pidge is still looking for her family. They get caught up in a war.)

Words: 205,901 | Chapters: 15/16 | Warnings: graphic depictions of violence

My note: Avian Keith and Merman Lance is the forbidden love story that everyone needs in their life tbh. It’s been on hiatus for a while so idk about the final chapter, but it’s definitely worth a read!

22. Call Me, Beep Me

By orphan_account on AO3

Description: Where lance messages the wrong number and things kind of snowball from there.

Words: 85,591 | Chapters: 10/10 | Warnings: none

My note: Arguably the most popular Klance fanfic (after Dirty Laundry of course)! You’ve probably heard of it, but if not, do read!! Wrong number fics are a godsend

23. Calling Me to Come Back

By aknightley on AO3

Description: Keith is a witch who owns a shop where he breaks curses on both magical items and people under spells. Love spells, family curses passed down generations, cursed heirlooms lurking the attic -- he can handle them all. But one day a boy named Lance walks into his shop, and his curse is darker and more difficult to break than anything Keith has ever seen before: the curse is draining his magic, and without his magic, Lance will die.

Words: 50,464 | Chapters: 1/1 | Warnings: none

My note: Will Witch Keith break Lance’s curse, or will Lance die!?!?!? And will they fall in love along the way???!?! Read on to find out:D

24. Say My Name (And Every Colour Illuminates)

By parchmints on AO3

Description: Lance never thought he had a soulmate, but when he finds himself dreaming about a boy on Varadero Beach and in a southwestern desert, he learns they have an incredibly rare soul link–-one that allows them to form an unusually strong bond before they meet, but also exposes their greatest vulnerabilities to each other.

Words: 27,833 | Chapters: 1/1 | Warnings: none

My note: Really well-written, relatively short but so so sweet! Another soulmate AU (honestly one of my favourite AUs) except this time it’s dreamscape:)

25. Video Killed the Radio Star

By europa_report on AO3

Description: In which Keith is the guy who suddenly finds himself a single-parent to his two nieces, and Lance is the charming radio host who might be his only voice of reason in this mess.

Words: 69,468 | Chapters: 11/11 | Warnings: none

My note: This is so cute, I almost cried. Any fic with kl interacting with little children is an instant KO for my heart:’)

26. Smile for the Stars

By maIikcutie on AO3

Description: Though he's been dealt many bad cards, Lance isn't sure he can handle this one: winding up stranded, a million lightyears away from home, with only Keith to keep him company. The universe is cruel.

Words: 72,921 | Chapters: 9/9 | Warnings: major character death

My note: Please don’t read unless you are prepared for a MAJOR character death! If you’re up for it, prepare a box of tissues, and good luck, my friend!

And that’s all for my list! Hope you found something to your liking, happy reading folks!

[somekindoftuber]

vld youtuber AU (klance, part 5)

(I apologize if the tense changes all over the place, I’m writing this as a sort of stream-of-consciousness thing because I care more about getting the idea out than writing something that’s grammatically perfect. I’ll probably clean this up and make it an actual fic once it’s all done. Thanks for reading!! :D)

part one | part two | part three | part four

There is a definite shift in Keith’s demeanor after Lance’s last visit.

They play Overwatch a few times a week, and while Keith goes into stern-leader-battle-mode when the game is going, between matches he’s loose, candid. He laughs at Lance’s jokes and makes casual conversation about his job, the garage, tells funny stories about Kosmo. Lance tells Keith stories about the customers he has at the cafe. It’s nice to hear a softness in Keith’s voice that Lance hadn’t heard before.

Keith shows up in nearly all of Lance’s Overwatch videos, even if his mic isn’t recorded. They sort of fall into a rhythm, meeting online every Tuesday and Thursday night to search for servers.

“Y’know,” Keith says one night while they’re in queue. “I wouldn’t have figured you for a sniper type.”

“Eh?” Lance is in his Widowmaker menu at that moment, flipping between two skins to see which one he likes more. “What d’you mean?”

“I don’t mean it in a bad way,” Keith clarifies, and it sounds like he’s smiling. “You just seem like more of a Mercy or a support or something. You’re really…” he pauses. “Generous. Always helping people. Then you get in here and you turn into a cold blooded assassin.”

Lance laughs. “I’ve always played a sniper, though. Gotta have balance somewhere, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

.

They text a lot. It’s all small stuff, like pet photos or memes (which Keith doesn’t understand 90% of the time and Lance finds that kind of adorable). But it’s nice. Occasionally they’ll both have an early shift, and Lance will text Keith photos of the ancient espresso grinder, captioned “this thing wants me dead” surrounded with skull emojis. Keith’s sense of humor, Lance learns, is dry as cracker juice. He gets a photo of a broken rubber floor mat with the question, “what sound does a floor mat make when it splits right before a fitness class?” Before Lance can answer, he gets another photo of the same mat, this time with Keith’s middle finger pointing soundly at it. “That sound,” says the caption. Lance laughs so hard that his boss yells at him for being on his phone during a shift.

August comes to an end, and Pidge prepares for her final term. Lance helps by assisting in an apartment clean out, getting rid of literal clutter to ease Pidge’s impending mental clutter. Lance tries not to think about how this might be their last few months in this apartment together. He’s really enjoyed living with Pidge - he wasn’t exaggerating when he said she was like a sister. Pidge is an extension of his family, ever since they met at space camp all those years ago. She’d been a tiny, fluffy, indomitable ball of pure snark and Lance loved her immediately. Since then, they’d stuck together, seeing each other through some of the hardest times. Lance had cheered his lungs out when Pidge was handed her high school diploma, and in a few months, he’d see her walk across another stage in a cap and gown to receive her bachelor’s degree in Robotic Engineering.

It made him a little misty-eyed to think about it.

Pidge is playing Stardew Valley one afternoon (how the hell did she manage to make such an insanely profitable farm before the end of year one?) when she casually brings up one of Lance’s favorite fall events.

“You gonna go to the Founder’s Fair this year?”

Lance doesn’t even look up from his phone. “Uh, is the Pope catholic?”

“Good.” On the screen, Pidge’s character gives a bouquet to Penny. Dating everyone but marrying no one: the Pidge method. “Hunk is coming in for it.”

“Sweet.”

The Harborville Founder’s Fair was the highlight of every autumn. Right as the summer was fading away and the air was showing a hint of a chill, Oceanside Park would explode into three days of carnival rides, food trucks, fireworks, and everything in between. It was also the best time of year to surf - they didn’t get much in the way of waves here, but there would always be just enough in late September to rent a board. Lance had put in his time off request a month ago, buttering up his boss with the ‘this might be my last September in Harborville’ sob story. Which was sort of true, even if he wasn’t quite ready to face that reality yet.

Lance felt like he was getting closer to Keith. He wasn’t entirely sure if that was the case, but if nothing else, Keith seemed to finally be relaxing around him. There were one or two times when Lance could almost swear Keith was flirting, but he quickly shoved the thought aside. Nope, don’t go there. That’s assuming things. Assuming is dangerous.

.

The fair is in a week and to make up for missing work on what will be one of the busiest weekends of the year, Lance is working at the cafe nearly every day. He has more steam burns on his hands and wrists from making lattes than ever, and he thinks if he hears the word “pumpkin spice” one more time he might lose it. He hasn’t played Overwatch all week, too tired from extra shifts to do anything other than zone out to Netflix when he gets home.

He’s got two hours left in his Thursday morning shift, then he’s free for the whole weekend. He can practically taste the funnel cakes now - and the Rancho Alegre food truck, the only decent source of Cuban food in the entire state, will be there. God, he’s going to eat until he can’t move.

The morning rush has come and gone and the afternoon crowd isn’t here yet, so Lance is cleaning up the mess of coffee grounds and cinnamon around his work station when the bell on the cafe door sounds. He doesn’t look up as his coworker/supervisor Romelle greets whoever walks through, too preoccupied with wondering how the hell almond milk ended up underneath the grinder.

“Hello,” says the customer and Lance totally knows that voice. He stops wiping sour milk and looks up.

It’s Shiro. And right behind him is Allura and - oh shit. It’s Keith. He’s here, he’s here in the cafe and Lance had no idea he was coming and he probably looks like shit, overworked with bags under his eyes and his face breaking out from stress and he didn’t even shampoo his hair this morning because he was running late --

But then Keith smiles at him and wow. His hair is down and he’s wearing this black and red leather jacket and it should be illegal to look that good. Especially when Lance is such a mess.

“Hi,” Lance says, hating how his voice cracks. “What are you guys doing in town?”

Shiro is pulling out his wallet with his left hand. “We came for the fair. It was always one of my favorite things about going to school here.”

“Oh,” Lance squeaks.

They’re here for the fair. Lance might get to spend time at the fair with Keith. He forces himself to focus on the present before a dozen fantasies of ferris wheel rides and sharing cotton candy can take over his brain.

They all order drinks and Lance claims them before Romelle can even finish ringing them up. Shiro gets a hazelnut americano, Allura orders a tuxedo mocha, and Keith shyly asks for a latte. Lance can tell he doesn’t go to coffee shops often and makes the drinks carefully. He can’t embellish Shiro’s americano, but he uses chocolate sauce and extra foam to draw a bow tie in Allura’s mug. For Keith’s latte, he sends a prayer to the coffee gods to grant him latte art prowess. It works, and Lance is rounding out rings of coffee and foam, pulling through to form a perfect heart.

He slides the mug across the counter to Keith, who’s eyebrow shoot into his hair. He breaths a little “wow” and blushes, taking the mug and smiling. He’s wearing fingerless leather gloves. Lance’s heart flip-flops in his chest.

The three of them find a table near the window and sit, chatting and drinking their coffee. They’re too far away for Lance to hear what they’re saying, and even if he could, he’s on the clock, and the lunchtime regulars are starting to trickle in.

Would it be gauche to text his evening shift coworker and bribe him to come in early so Lance can leave?

Lance thinks Romelle can tell he’s pouting by the way she sides up to him.

“Hey,” she whispers. “Is that the guy?”

He follows her gaze and sees that it lands firmly on the table where Keith is sitting with Shiro and Allura. Keith looks up at Lance, and smiles a little before turning back to his brother.

“Yeah,” Lance whispers back, feeling his face heat up. “The one with the long hair.”

Romelle lets out a low whistle. “Quite the catch,” she says, waggling her eyebrows. “What about the girl they’re with?”

“Allura?” Lance thinks. “I don’t know her very well, but she’s nice.”

“She single?”

Lance rolls his eyes and starts on the next drink. “No idea, you should ask her.”

It’s slower today and Lance is thankful for it. With Keith in the room, he can’t focus on anything - it’s a miracle he doesn’t catastrophically screw up the drinks he’s making. There’s a break in customers and Romelle comes over to Lance where he loading a portafilter with espresso and waves her phone.

“I’ll make you a deal,” she says, and he does not like that voice. That’s her Supervisor Voice. “I’ll call Ryan in an hour early if you get me Cute Girl’s number.”

Lance puts the tamp down. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

He looks over at the table where Keith is sitting. They’ve all finished their drinks and will probably be leaving soon.

“Romelle,” Lance states. “You are an evil super villain and I love you. Consider that number yours.”

Fifteen minutes later, Ryan Kinkade is walking in and he doesn’t look particularly thrilled about it. Lance takes off his apron and motions at the jar of cash by the register.

“Ryan, you’re a lifesaver and my tips are yours. Thank you!” Lance clocks out before anyone can argue and walks over to where Keith and Co are sitting. He’s very much aware of how he probably reeks of coffee and looks like garbage but does his best to smile anyway.

“My shift is over, did you guys have any plans?”

Shiro smiles and stands. “I think we were going to head to our Air B&B and check in, actually. We could use a breather after that drive. We can meet up for dinner later, if you want.”

Inwardly, Lance lets out a sigh of relief because this means he’ll have time to take a shower and make himself presentable. “That sounds good! Any place you want to go?”

Shiro shrugs. “Is Vinnie’s still open?”

Lance lights up. “Oh yeah, still as good as ever, too! Want to meet there at, uh - “ He checks his phone, it’s barely 3pm. “Around five? We should beat most of the dinner rush that way.”

They all nod and the plans are made. They walk outside together and Lance watches the three of them get into a very nice Chrysler sedan - maybe Allura’s, given how she goes for the driver’s seat. Once they’re gone, Lance heads for his car and books it home. He immediately washes and exfoliates his face, then applies an anti-inflammatory mask and works at cleaning up the apartment. It was already fairly clean since Hunk will be crashing on the pull-out sofa bed for the weekend, and he has no idea of Keith will ever even see this place, but Lance doesn’t want to take any risks.

He shoots Pidge a text to tell her about their plans in case she wants to join. Hunk isn’t due until tomorrow morning.

Apartment clean(er) and his face mask dry and itchy, Lance hops in the shower and scrubs himself sore. Keith is here and will be spending the weekend here and Lance is equal parts ecstatic and terrified. He meticulously goes through his whole grooming routine, moisturizes, swabs, trims his eyebrows, even files his nails. He checks his reflection once he’s done and thankfully his face is less red, the stress acne barely noticeable.

There’s still about 45 minutes until he needs to be at Vinnie’s so Lance takes his time picking out clothes. He settles for a low cut tank top that shows off his collarbones and a beige button down over it with the sleeves rolled up, finishing it off with a pendant necklace and grey skinny jeans. He examines himself in the mirror and frowns a little. Does it look too much like date clothes?

He doesn’t have time to change because then his phone pings and it’s Shiro, saying they’re heading to Vinnie’s a little early. Lance all but throws himself out the door.

.

Vinnie’s is starting to get crowded, Lance can already see the line forming when he parks. He spots Shiro and Allura easily, their white hair making them stand out. They’d managed to claim a patio table - no small feat - and were chatting happily.

Lance joins them and it’s amazing how welcome he feels in this group, the way Shiro half-pulls a chair out for Lance. Keith is sitting to his right, his jacket draped over the back of his chair, the black t-shirt he wore stretching nicely over his chest. And if he didn’t know any better, Lance could swear he saw Keith’s eyes sweep down his neck and linger.

They ate and laughed and ate more, drinking fancy gourmet sodas. They make loose plans for the weekend - beach tomorrow, then the fair on Saturday, and maybe brunch before they leave on Sunday. Lance educates Keith in the ways of the garlic knot, the most sacred food item on earth. And when Keith shrugs and says they’re “alright,” Lance feigns offense, gasping and clutching his chest.

Pidge joins them later, looking utterly spent from a long day of classes. Lance gives up his seat so she can collapse into it. He kneels beside the table instead, passing Pidge the last of their pizza and appetizers. Keith gives him a look, then scoots over to one side of his chair, patting the other with his hand.

Lance short circuits, looking from the empty side of the chair to Keith’s face several times.

Keith rolls his eyes. “Get up here. That,” he points to where Lance is kneeling, “Is super bad for your knees.”

“Oh?” Lance slides into place, and it’s sort of uncomfortable with half of his ass hanging off the chair, but he can feel heat pouring off Keith’s body with how close he is. “You care much about my knees?”

Keith goes super red. “I’m a physical trainer,” He said, suddenly very interested in his soda. “It’s my job to care. Doing stuff like that will ruin them.”

“Right.”

Lance glances over at Pidge, who had a garlic knot halfway to her mouth and giving Lance the most predatory grin. He glares at her to shut down whatever evil plans she might be formulating.

They finally finish the food and decide to stop taking up a table, bussing it themselves to save the staff some work. Instead of a bar, they decide to head over to Lance and Pidge’s apartment to chill - half because Pidge isn’t 21 yet and wouldn’t be able to join them at most of the bars in town, and half because Vinnie’s was so loud that they’re all craving some quiet.

Lance is so thankful that his past self had the sense to clean a little more. They all sprawl out over the living room, Lance going to pull a chair from the kitchen to sit on so the guests can have the nice couch and Pidge can curl up in the easy chair. Lance offers up the ice cream sandwiches from the freezer and everyone takes one; Allura seems to be examining hers with great interest, like she’s never had one before.

Shiro talks a lot, mostly about what Harborville was like when he and Matt were in college. About their first apartment that should probably have been condemned, the dogs he’d walk between classes for extra cash. Eventually Lance’s cats come out of hiding to investigate, and Keith goes starry-eyed at Batou’s big green eyes and plush grey coat.

Pidge falls asleep in her chair just after nine. Everyone takes a second to coo at how cute she is before Lance bends down to scoop her up.

“Lemme put sleeping beauty here to bed. If she stays there she’ll be sore and cranky when she wakes up.”

He takes Pidge to her room and sets her on her bed, then wrestles her sneakers off her feet, setting her glasses on the bedside table and draping a sheet over her. When he goes back into the living room and sits in the chair he’d removed Pidge from, Allura gives him a fond look.

“You’re very sweet to her.”

Lance shrugs. “She’s pretty much family. Also, I have to do that all the time. I’ve found her face down on her homework out here more times than I want to count.”

They talk for another two hours. Lance feels a little lonely with Keith sitting on the side of the couch furthest from him, but then again, if he was closer, Lance isn’t sure his brain would work. Allura yawns wide.

“I think it’s time we turned in,” she states. “I’d like to get some rest before the weekend starts.”

Shiro agrees. Lance ends up seeing them off in the parking lot, waving as they drive away.

.

Hunk arrives just after 10am the next morning, armed with bags of groceries to pack a picnic for the beach. He puts Lance and Pidge on an assembly line in the kitchen, making pork sandwiches, vegetable rolls, hummus wraps, crab and radish tartines, potato salad, and chocolate-dipped clementine slices. He’d picked up a package of Lance’s favorite lemon cream cookies and Lance could almost kiss him for it.

With their precious picnic food carefully packed in an ice chest along with plenty of drinks, Lance shot a group text to Keith, Shiro, and Allura to ask if they were ready for the beach. He got confirmation quickly, and they agreed to hit the north shore near the lighthouse, where the sand was rougher but the tourists tended to be a little thinner.

Parking is a bitch but they find a spot, then wait by the trunk for Keith and Co to arrive. About ten minutes later Lance sees Allura’s Chrysler pull in to a spot. They walk over to meet them and Lance is practically bouncing, because 1) he gets to go to the beach, 2) he gets to go surfing with Hunk, 3) he gets to spend time with new friends, and 4) Keith is here. Everyone is in shorts and light shirts, Allura has this big floppy sun hat that is absolutely precious on her, and Keith’s face is shiny with sunscreen. Lance bets that fair skin of his will still be red by the end of the day.

They find a spot that’s decently clear and set up. Hunk, Keith, and Lance tackle the portable canopy that will hopefully keep them all from becoming completely sunburned while Allura and Pidge set out the sand blanket and arrange their stuff to keep the wind from blowing it away. Once they’re settled, the ice chest is opened and sodas and juice are passed around. The wind is strong today but not enough to be a problem for their canopy, and the waves are large and plentiful. Lance eyes the surfboard rental shack a quarter mile down the beach.

Once they’ve had enough of snacking and chatting, Lance gives Hunk fingerguns and they almost take off down the beach together, making a beeline for the surfboards. Rolo is working it as usual and after some searching they find the perfect boards and duck into the changing tent to get into their springsuits. Lance has the white and blue suit up over his hips and was about to pull it the rest of the way on when he remembers that Keith is sitting out there. Ever since Lance learned he was a Crossfit trainer, he’d started running and working out again. He wasn’t in as good a shape as he was when he’d been swimming competitively, but thanks to months of regular exercise, he at least sort of looked the part again. And maybe he wanted to show off a little. So Lance left the top of his springsuit open and hanging from his hips as they went back to the group with their boards.

“Showoff,” Hunk accused while they were still out of earshot of everyone else.

Lance subtly flexed his chest. “So? I worked hard for this.”

When they got back to the canopy, Lance did his best to act nonchalant as he set his board aside and started pulling his springsuit up over his chest. Keith was definitely looking at him. Mission accomplished.

His flirty nature satisfied, it was time to surf. Lance missed this so much, the first step into the ocean water was like heaven. He and Hunk paddled out until the water was smooth, then sat on their boards and waited. They didn’t have to wait long, Hunk caught the first good wave that came their way, riding it out and away. Lance caught the next one, and it was a crazy high. It just felt so good, cutting through the water with his board, turning, riding through tunnels of blue-green. The waves tossed him, wrecked him, dragged his body against the sand below. But every time, Lance would surface, shake it off, and paddle out for another go.

His legs finally started to shake, so Lance hauled his board back to the shore. Hunk was already sitting under the canopy again, changed out of his springsuit and sipping on a juice box.

“I was gonna give you ten more minutes before I dragged you out of the water,” Hunk said.

Lance didn’t reply, chest heaving as he caught his breath. His board hits the sand and he all but collapses onto the sand sheet, his ears ringing.

A water bottle appeared in his periphery. Lance looked up enough to trace the hand that held it back to Keith, who was wearing this cute little smile. Lance smiled back and took the bottle, downing half of it in one gulp.

Pidge starts pulling out food and Lance blindly eats whatever is handed to him, too exhausted to care what it is. It’s all delicious but with how many calories he burned surfing, he could probably be eating stale saltines and they’d taste like a delicacy. He leans back on the sand sheet and basks in the post-surf euphoria.

Lance notices everyone starting to get up. Allura is holding several frisbees with a gleam in her eye, and most of the group is rising to join her. Keith stands and, after fiddling with the collar of his shirt for a second, reaches back and pulls it over his head, letting it drop to the ground.

Lance is instantly awake because holy shit. Keith is ripped. He’s all tight skin and perfect muscles and - oh.

He’d been wrong when he’d assumed Keith’s tattoo was a wolf. It’s actually a lion, roaring fiercely, emblazoned in dark red ink over his left hip.

Keith takes a hair tie off his wrist and uses it to pull his hair up high on the back of his head. He shoots Lance a loaded glance before walking out into the sun to join everyone else for a game of frisbee tag. Lance memorizes the muscles of his back as he goes.

“Good god, you’re so loud.”

Lance sits up and turns to see Pidge, sitting in the center of the sand sheet in her shorts and green rash guard, with her phone in one hand and a cookie in the other.

“I didn’t say anything!” Lance protests. Pidge just cocks an eyebrow at him.

“Not with words, anyway.”

Lance frowns, then dares to look back out at his friends, finding Keith and tracking his movements across the beach.

.

They empty the ice chest of food and drink and, after several more hours of beach fun, they decide to pack it in and head out. Lance is going to remember this day for the rest of his life - the image of Keith glistening wet as he walked out of the ocean had finally taught Lance the meaning of the phrase “looks good enough to eat.”

Lance is so, so tired. Surfing wore him out but he still played a round of beach volleyball after that, and then swam some more. He’s going to be so sore tomorrow. He drives himself, Hunk, and Pidge back to their apartments to shower and change before they head over to the Air B&B where Shiro, Keith, and Allura are staying. Lance decides on a regular shirt and his favorite jeans, only bothering to put a single layer of moisturizer on his face.

The Air B&B turns out to be a whole house, with a yard and a little deck where they all gather around faded patio furniture as Shiro hands out beers. He gives Pidge a look as she takes one for herself.

“What?” She says as she twists off the top of the bottle. “I’m gonna be 21 in a few months, I’m in safe company, and I’m not driving.”

Shiro just sighs and sits down.

They talk and laugh for hours. Pidge only has one beer before switching to sweet tea, and Lance is a little relieved. He has no idea what drunk Pidge would be like and he’d rather not find out this weekend - he would be cash money that she’d be ornery as hell. Hunk orders some delivery from their favorite noodle place when Lance isn’t paying attention. Keith looks happy as a kid on Christmas with a giant bowl of pho in front of him, and Lance learns that Vietnamese food is his favorite.

They move inside once the sun goes down to keep from bothering the neighbors. Lance settles into a corner of the faded couch, and is too tired to panic when Keith sits next to him. Hunk launches into a story about his last term at school when he almost blew the breaker for the entire engineering building and Lance tries to pay attention, but he’s worn out and Keith is radiating heat like a furnace. Combine that with his full stomach and a couple of beers and he’s so, so sleepy.

Someone is calling his name and Lance inhales sharply, eyes fluttering open. It was Hunk, who’s smiling at him from across the coffee table. Lance is leaning on something warm and solid. He rubs his eyes and looks up.

He was leaning on Keith.

Lance’s eyes bug out but Keith just looks down at him with this tiny smile and a blush on his cheeks. Lance suddenly feels like the room is a million degrees as he carefully sits up.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to pass out.”

Keith laughs softly. “It’s fine.”

They all start to wrap up their stories and conversations. Lance doesn’t know what time it is but it feels late, and since they want to hit the fair tomorrow, they should all get some sleep. Hunk offers to drive home and Lance hands him the keys as Keith, Shiro, and Allura wave goodbye from the front porch.

He almost falls asleep again in the ten minutes it takes Hunk to drive them back to their apartment. Lance helps set up the pull-out sofa, then goes to brush his teeth. He’s practically nodding off at the bathroom sink when Pidge comes up to him and pulls out her phone.

“Thought you should see this,” she says, holding it up.

On the screen is a photo of Keith, and, with his head resting on Keith’s shoulder dead asleep, Lance. Keith is looking down at him and definitely blushing.

The toothbrush stills in Lance’s mouth as he swipes the phone from Pidge’s hand, using his thumbs to pull and zoom. Keith was smiling.

“Please send this to me immediately,” Lance tells her, words muffled from the toothbrush still hanging from between his teeth.

He’s in bed setting his alarm when he gets the text from Pidge with the photo attached. And if Lance hugs a pillow and kicks his feet a little at the sight, who could blame him?

.

Continued in part 6!

[stringsxfate]

* ✶ 「 lana condor, 24, female & she/her 」 welcome to the mortal realm, MIRANDA TIEN— though, the fates whisper that they could only be ARIADNE reincarnated. it seems in this life they’re instead known for being a BAKER. what a downgrade. nevertheless, mortality can be confusing, so it’s understandable they can be COURAGEOUS and TRUSTING, but also INSECURE and DESTRUCTIVE ; maybe that’s why they remind people of DRIVERS LICENCE by OLIVIA RODRIGO ? but not all history is washed away by time — just as the poets say, they still remind others of HALF SMILES WITH EYES FULL OF TEARS, MESSY KITCHENS FULL OF LAUGHTER, LATE NIGHT DRUNK TALKS IN BATHROOMS WITH STRANGERS. hopefully this life treats them a little better.

hello all i am back with new child, she’s a bit of a mess and doesn’t know what any of her emotions and feelings are but she’s working on it. and until then she makes a really good cupcake and loaf of bread.

tw: parental death, alcohol mentions

about / socials

Miranda liked to break her life down into sections. There was the before and and there was the during and there was the after. Everyone tells her she’s in the after now, that she’s made it through the hardest part, but it still feels like she’s in the middle, stuck in a never ending loop with only glimpses of the after. 

before 

Miranda was born to Hien and Aida Tien, the youngest of four, she discovered very early in life that there was very little she couldn’t get away with. All high expectations were placed on her elder sister and brothers meaning Miranda had freedom to make as many mistakes as she wanted and run a little wild. Not that she did, but the option was always there, which was nice to know. When she looks back on her childhood it’s with warmth and joy. Family dinners where they would all laugh and her brother helping her with maths homework and long afternoons in the back kitchen decorating cakes with her dad. Her childhood is tinged in yellow and smells faintly like baking bread and spices and sounds like easy laughter in country songs. 

during 

The diagnosis came two weeks after her sixteenth birthday. It’s sudden and unexpected and throws their family into chaos. Miranda feels her life slowly start to revolve around her dad's doctor's appointment and rushing to the bakery after school to help out. She does it willingly, gladly, happy to help in any way she can, to take a little of the stress off her parents' sagging shoulders and her siblings' stressed backs. 

She meets him when she’s seventeen and he’s twenty. Justin, who’s older and drives his dad's old car that he’d painted new and gives her flowers he’s stolen from neighbours gardens and showers her with pretty words that make her blush. He walks - staunters, really - into her life when she needs him most, when she needs someone most. Sweeps her off her feet and takes her on wild adventures through the city and convinces her to sneak out of her house late at night. When she’s with him, Miranda forgets all about hospital beds and medication littering their kitchen table and how her dad isn’t getting better. She tells him she loves him as they’re curled together on the back seat of his car and she believes him when he says it back. Kisses his collarbone and lets him kiss down her neck, saves every whispered compliment in her mind. 

Her dad's illness isn’t short and it isn’t pretty. Twenty rolls by with a shakily decorated cake and balloons in her favourite colours and everyone avoiding asking about college. She spends her little party holding Justin's hand and laughing with her dad and trying to memorise every little detail. He doesn’t see her turn twenty-one. 

He breaks up with her two days before the funeral. In a text. It’s a text she’ll always remember. Because it was two lines and he hadn’t even been bothered to fully type out the word ‘you’.

 ‘Can’t do this anymore. ur just too much right now and i dnt sign up for it.’ 

Very little makes sense in her life for the next few months. She wakes up, she gets dressed, she goes to the bakery, she mixes batter and decorates cakes, she hugs her mom and smiles with her sister, she goes home and sleeps. Trapped in a loop of the same things over and over and until it finally hits her what’s happened. 

Miranda doesn’t really remember turning twenty-one. She knows her friends take her out and tap glasses together as they do shots and her mom smiles at her fondly as she stumbles through the door later that night. Because all she can think about is how Justin had talked about how they’d spend her twentyfirst, all the plans and places they’d go, how he’d been excited, so she’d been excited. And how she’d spent most of it alone and that somehow, the pain of missing her dad had been overshadowed by someone else. It’s the first time she lets herself hate Justin and start to realise that all the pretty words and whispered promises hadn’t been true. 

after

Now she’s twenty-three and crawling her way out of the during with her nails still. She overhears her friends whispering worries about how she seems like a bystander to her own life. It knocks her back, hits her in the heart as she realises how true it is. So she starts to make an effort again. Starts to pick up the fallen bricks of her life and tries to rebuild. 

She starts with taking a more active role in the bakery, allowing her mom a chance to step back a little, to take more time for herself. It gives her something to focus on and pour her energy into and it’s just an added bonus that she finds the sounds of stand mixers soothing. Miranda’s first major change in the bakery was clearing out the space they’d used for storage, knocking down a wall and giving the place a small sitting area, effectively making it a cafe. 

She starts going out with her friends again, starts conversations first and brings up possible plans. She agrees to be set up on a date, and when it doesn’t go terribly she lets herself start looking to the future again. 

tl;dr : in summary, she had a very lovely childhood with two lovely parents and the regular amount of sibling drama. her dad got sick, she meets justin, her dad gets sicker, justin makes her feel special, her dad dies, justin ends it. it takes her nearly three years to realise that she never really dealt with her dad dying or her grief because of it, so now she’s in therapy and taken over running the family bakery by turning it into a lil cute cafe too. 

( miranda is very easy to get along with and will honestly talk to anyone because girl is way to trusting for her own good which is why she’s just gonna keep getting her heartbroken. she wants to see the best in people and will ignore all the red flags that pop up along the way, despite people's warnings. she’s actually really got her shit together when it comes to the business and networking and stuff, she’s just a hopeless mess when it comes to her emotions. )

headcanons / facts

she’s shockingly good at finding her way through mazes – hedge, corn or just drawn ones – she can find her way through in record time. whenever people ask her how she does it (if she’s cheating somehow), she simply shrugs and says ‘i just get a feeling about which way to go, so i go that way’. the same logic applies to detangling wires, especially headphones and messed up balls of wool. most of the time she doesn’t even realise she’s untangling something until it’s done and someones looking at her weird.

her parents bought their bakery when they first moved to the city and named it laurel leaf because the first time they met was when aida accidentally threw a laurel wreath at hien’s face. for the holidays the family always tried to decorate with laurel wreaths when they could, after hien died aida couldn’t face doing it for a long time. now that miranda has taken over the day to day running of the place she’s hung up a permanent laurel wreath above the door. 

because baking is basically her job she’s taken up knitting and running for hobbies. there’s a basket on the counter at the bakery of all the many, many hats she’s knitted free for anyone to take. she really hates running, but also knows it’s probably going to be good for her in the long run (ha!) so she just complains to whole time to her friends via text whenever she goes.

wanted connections 

[synth-dahl]

H2O: Just Add Water, Season 2, Episode 14, Get Off My Tail

Things my girlfriend and I thought during this episode

- Gah, these girls supporting each other gives me life, telling Emma that she’s a hard worker and deserves that promotion, Rikki consoling Cleo about her missing Lewis, etc.

- You know, Rikki brings up a good point, Cleo and Lewis can still be friends even if he’s got a new girlfriend, but also by that same logic, he can have a girlfriend while still being friends with Cleo, but they refuse to recognize that.

- Also, why are they acting like she’s never around Lewis anymore? I know that there are obviously times between episodes, but they still see each other a lot, and Lewis being with Charlotte has never really stopped them from seeing each other anyway, considering that he abandons Charlotte at the drop of a hat if Cleo needs him. It’s more like they never do regular every day stuff together, it’s always a mermaid crisis or something.

- One thing I’ve always liked about Rikki is her loyalty to her friends

- Everyone says that Charlotte is acting toxic towards Lewis, but on the same note, Cleo is the one who is constantly resetting the boundaries of their friendship. One minute, she wants to hang out with him, the next she wants space, and the second he wants to be with someone else, she’s upset that he won’t make time for her. Not to mention the way Lewis is always lying  and gaslighting the frick out of Charlotte.

- How is dumping a person but still expecting them to be there at your every beck and call any better or less possessive than anything Charlotte has done?

- Ugh, Emma has been at the cafe for over a year, she really should’ve gotten the position. She’s got seniority and a proven drive to get things in gear

- Once more, the Rikma is strong in the episode, which is hilarious since the majority of this one is Rikki mentioning how much Emma is actually into Ash. “Hey, Emma, cute hat!” (bi finger guns)

- I do like Rikki, but the second Cleo does recognize that she needs to accept that he’s moved on, which she does, Rikki turns it into a, “No you don’t, because you’re better because you’re not like other girls” thing. Which... I get saying because Cleo was feeling vulnerable and having self-image issues in that moment, but she should’ve been encouraging her to move on

- Not to mention Rikki was the one advocating for Cleo to break up with Lewis, and telling her it was a good thing. Instead, they made it into another batch of girl hate, and it honestly makes me want to cry. When she mentions that Charlotte’s nothing because she’s not “special,” and she’s “ordinary,” you could easily switch out that out with something more mainstream, “She only likes cheerleading and shopping, but you’re special and different because you like comic books and video games, so why would he like her?”

- I’m really glad we’ve for the most part grown out of that phase as a society. It’s still there, but I’m glad that we’re recognizing that it’s bad.

- It’s just... let him move on. If he’s got another girlfriend, so what? I’m sorry Cleo, but you did break up with him, and repeatedly told him you didn’t want to get back together. It’s not the girlfriend’s fault if she’s dating your ex when you want to get back together. And if you honestly feel like you can’t hang out with him, then that’s something you should be talking about, both with him, and with Charlotte.

- Yay, Lewis is finally fishing! Also, how is that snorkel working underwater? Snorkels are used with the tube above water so you can breathe, how is it being used underwater? My girlfriend and I have been losing our shit over this

- Lewis, you are literally lying to Charlotte. You’re lying to her. I know you have your reasons, but she doesn’t know them. She just knows you’re hiding something. And you’re lying to her about spending time with your friend, which you don’t need to do. You just need to tell her that you and Cleo are still close friends, and you were catching fish with her. No one is going to be asking, “Oh, she was swimming because she’s a mermaid, right?” No, instead you lie to her about it, because it involves Cleo and that would make Charlotte upset.

- Again, if everyone would just sit down and talk, this could all be avoided. The fact that they’re mermaids does not be included. Just talk about your feelings, dangnabit

- Does Ash have permission from Wilfred to make all those changes to the cafe? And does he not see the problem with balls flying everywhere in a cafe that sells mostly liquid? And how did Emma not see that major problem in the making?

- And Cleo, walking up behind them to say you had fun yesterday in front of Charlotte because you knew it would upset her? Yeah, that was on purpose, and you have no moral high ground. That was just as petty and passive aggressive as the stuff Charlotte’s said. Congrats, you got your revenge.

- And Lewis, no, while you don’t have to tell Charlotte what you do with every second of your day and who you hang out with, when you knowingly leave out that Cleo was with you because you know it’ll upset her, you don’t get to act like you’re being smothered when she does get upset when she finds out you lied to her. You knew what you were doing. Either break up with her, or tell her you’re going to be hanging out with Cleo because you’re still friends. I know you have to protect their secret, but not everything has to be about the fact that they’re mermaids.

- Charlotte would not be so insecure about the relationship if Lewis wasn’t always lying to her, especially since the lies concern his ex so often. Considering that most of your relationship has been lying about what you’re doing, it really makes sense for you to break up with her, it would be the kindest thing to do.

- Actually, Charlotte should be the one to dump him

- No one can tell me he doesn’t genuinely enjoy being around her and with her. Whenever the other characters aren’t around, it really does feel that way. And I don’t think it has anything to do with Charlotte being normal or whatever like Cleo was saying. Lewis never had a problem with Cleo being a mermaid. Not to mention that it’s not like Lewis has ever really gotten upset that their secret has interfered with his life, he’s just always there for them.

- I’m going to cry so many times throughout this season. But the worst part? It’s that all of this does not have a satisfying conclusion. They don’t make amends, the girls don’t grow or learn from this. Charlotte apologizes to Lewis, but not to the girls, who also don’t apologize to her. They don’t recognize that maybe they had a part in how she acted. If this season actually ended with the characters learning and recognizing with each other that how they acted was bad, I wouldn’t be as upset as I am. Instead, I’m left with catty characters who are awful to each other and don’t resemble the people I thought they were, who don’t grow from their experiences

[okayoonoh]

best part (1): lee taeyong

“you don’t know babe, when you hold me and kiss me slowly, it’s the sweetest thing.”

---

- PAIRING: lee taeyong x reader - GENRE: ANGST ANGST ANGST, a little tiny tiny smut in there but it barely counts tbh - RATING: it’s a good M for mature. - WORD COUNT: 4,514 - WARNINGS: it’s sad and there’s a little smut in here. it’s not super explicit tho.

a/n: this honestly makes me sad, but i need to learn to write angst and simply doing it is one of the best ways. i hope you guys like it :,)

---

---

Knock, knock, knock

“Y/N please, let me in.”

Your heart aches at every knock. Every fiber of your being is telling you to keep that door shut, to keep him out and forget about him forever. It’s easier this way, for his career and your’s. Everyone knows that nothing about this is okay, you know it and he does as well.

And yet, why do you find yourself standing up and walking towards the door?

You take slow steps walking towards your front door. You hear his knocking becoming even more desperate, almost as if he thought that the louder he knocked, the quicker you would open your door. 

“Y/N please… just let me in. I just want to talk to you...”

Your hand comes in contact with the doorknob, tears still spilling out of your eyes. You keep telling yourself not to open that goddamn door, over and over like a mantra in your head.

And yet, you find yourself turning the doorknob and looking into those wide tear-stained eyes you told yourself you’d never see again. The second the door opened wide enough for him to enter, he wrapped his arms around you, holding the back of your head, pressing your sobbing form against his body. You grasped onto the grey sweater he was wearing, sobbing. You want to break away from him. You want to live far away so you’ll never have to see him anymore. You want to push him away. You want to live a life without him. 

It’s crazy, really. 2 months ago, your mindset about him was complete the complete opposite. 2 months ago, you thought you’d never push him away. 2 months ago you were his best friend, the one friend that stuck with him when he became an idol. You told him everything and he to you. Any little issue and accomplishment, he told you. Any little exam you passed and depressing mood you’ve been in, you’ve confided in him. You never thought you would ever want to let him go, he was your lifeline, the one and only thing you’ve ever wanted to hold onto for the rest of your life. He was your best friend, your ride or die. He made you feel so safe and accepted every when you were at your worst. So, why are you sitting here, the most confused you’ve been your entire life, about him? Someone you used to be so sure, so confident that you would never, ever, have to worry about him of all people. Why him?

---

4 months ago

---

“Y/N! Open your door! I have news!” 

You move your laptop to the side as you walk towards your door, rolling your eyes. You know that voice like the back of your hand. You twist the door handle and pull, greeted by the excited expression of your best friend.

“Hyunzie? Why are you here at 10:00 at night? I thought you were at Sicheng’s place?” you quip.

She rolls her eyes, already walking inside of your apartment, “Wow, I love you too. But I was at Sicheng’s place but this news is way too important for me not to tell you now!” 

She stalks over to your kitchen, making herself and you a cup of tea. 

“Okay, Hyunzie, if it’s this important, why are you making me tea?” You ask while accepting the mug she hands you. 

“Because I would like to ‘spill the tea’” Her eyes light up, waiting for your response. 

You give her a true, mint condition, authentic, fake laugh, “Ha ha. Seriously, Hyunzie. I was finalizing some reports while watching the last episode of ‘The Amazing Irish Cooking Show’. What is so urgent that you had to cut me off from Moira taking home the gold?”

“Okay, first of all, Moira doesn’t even win, second of all, why are you so sassy today?” 

“Hyunzie.”

“Fine Mr. Grumpy Pants I’ll tell you. So, I’m just going to tell you the most important thing now since I don’t think you want the build up. We’re moving to Seoul.”

“Hyunzie, stop messing around, just tell me the news and go home, it’s getting late.”

“No, Y/N, I’m being 100% serious. You remember how Sicheng and Taeyong sent in your song to SM? They’re offering us a job!”

You look your best friend directly in her eyes. You know when she’s lying, but none of those signs are being shown right now.

You stutter, “We-- We’re leaving? You’re not kidding me, right? And-- and us? Did they--”

She purses her lips and nods, “Yes! Sicheng sent in my artwork as well, they want me to work for them for their next comeback! We’re moving to Seoul!”

You open your arms, enveloping Hyunzie in the biggest hug. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes. You did it. You’re finally getting a chance to be heard. You can finally put an end to your mindless desk job and do the thing you’ve dreamed of doing ever since, well, ever. 

You separate from the hug and press your hand to your burning cheeks, trying not to freak out too badly. “So, when do we leave?”

Hyunzie doesn’t miss a beat, “As soon as possible. Sicheng has already laid out a place for us to stay until we find a place. I’m ready to go whenever you are. I know it’ll take a while for you to actually quit your job and stuff, but I’ll help you pack and everything! We’re in this together Y/N.”

You nod and grab your laptop from where you set it down. “I’ll send in the 2 weeks now.” Hyunzie nods back, grabbing the remote and pressing play, putting your favorite show back on. 

A couple hours past and Hyunzie fell asleep on the side of your couch when you added the final touch to your reports and your two weeks notice. You yawn, looking towards your best friend. Your heart fills with so much love knowing that she is sticking with you throughout this entire event. Ever since her secret relationship with Sicheng started, she’s been nothing but the best version of herself. No, Sicheng is not the man who “magically” changed her, he knows that, but he also knows that Hyunzie doesn’t need him. Hyunzie and Sicheng compliment each other so well, not one personality being overshined by the other. The sneaking around between the two is something that most couples would hate, but due to the secretive and private nature of the both of them, they find it thrilling to flirt in the shadows and act as complete “strangers”.  

If Hyunzie never took the chance to talk to the cute regular who showed up in the cafe where she worked, you would have never had the chance to even send in your music to SM. Sure, Taeyong could have given you the inside scoop, but you never wanted to seem like you were using Taeyong. Sicheng was willing to stop by and he felt the same about you and your music. He agrees that your music should be shared and with the help of Taeyong, your music now has a greater chance than ever before. 

Ring ring ring

Your ears perk as you look at the caller ID. Speak of the devil.

“Y/N, it’s me! Did Hyunzie tell you the news? I’m so sorry, I finally got a free chance to talk to you, I’m actually in the States right now with the rest of the member--”

“Hey Taeyong-ie, and yes, Hyunzie is actually sleeping on my couch at this very moment. She told be the information like an hour ago? Look, I can’t thank you enoug--”

“Nonsense, I’ve always known your music should be shared. I just didn’t know what time would be best and apparently Sicheng just sent it in today, and I wasn’t even there to see everyone’s reactions!”

You giggle, “Don’t worry about it, Youngie. I’m still in shock with everything right now.” 

“I know, it’s a crazy feeling isn’t it? I can’t even remember what went through my mind when I passed my audition.”

“I honestly am not sure with anything I’m feeling, but I have one thing for certain.”

“Hm?”

“I can’t wait to work with you on the daily. It’ll be just like when we were kids.”

You can practically hear his smile through the phone, your heart flutters at the thought. 

“I know Y/N! It’ll be just like old times! I can’t wait for you to meet the rest of the members, I just hope Johnny and Jaehyun can turn down the flirtiness when you get here. We have no room for any relationships, except for the godly couple of Hyunzie and Sicheng, they are the exception.”

“Amen. Well, I just finished my two weeks. I’m going to send it in tomorrow and begin packing as soon as I can.”

“I’m glad! You can do so much better than that mindless job, Y/N. I always knew you could… You’ve always been so -- What? What do you mean Xuxi broke the entire light structure? -- I’m so sorry Y/N, I have to take care of this. Look, text me if you need anything, I’m down to help you with whatever you need. We leave the States in three days, so I’ll be home to help you by then. I’ll see you when I get home!”

“It’s okay, Youngie, you have your leader duties to attend to. Tell Lucas to be careful and take it easy on yourself, okay? I’ll see you soon, thank you for everything.”

“Thank you too, bye bye!”

The call ends and you hold your phone close to your chest. Even just the sound of Taeyong’s voice makes you happy beyond belief. Imagining spending everyday with him fills you with so much elation, it’s hard to hold back. Taeyong and you grew up together, best friends before you even met Hyunzie. Together, you and him could conquer the world. Your parents would say that, even his sister. You both were notorious for talking the ears off of anyone and everyone and even conducting elaborate pranks you pulled on his sister and even your family members. When he joined SM, he had to move away to Seoul while you stayed in your hometown. He knew that he didn’t want to lose contact with you, and did all he could to make sure you would never lose this close bond the two of you have. There are underlying feelings between you two, you just can’t quite pinpoint it. Or your mind simply won’t let you knowing about all of that negative backlash that you would receive. 

A loud snore shakes you from your thoughts as your eyes shoot towards Hyunzie’s sleeping form. You giggle lightly, grabbing the blanket that drapes off of the side of the bed and lay it on your best friend. You turn off the lamp then head off to your room, getting ready to start this new era of your life. 

---

2 weeks (and, like, 2 days) later

---

Surprisingly, with the help of your movers and all of the free members of NCT, you were able to move and unpack almost instantly. Hyunzie and you basically sold all of your old furniture to buy new ones, so the only things you both had to worry about was your clothes and such. The new apartment is filled with loud music and laughs all throughout as the members all work hard to help you build all of your new furniture from the iconic Ikea. Hyunzie and Sicheng occupy themselves with the coffee table, flirting and lightly arguing more than building the actual surface. You, Johnny, and Taeyong busy yourselves in the kitchen, sorting out all of the dishes and pans, Johnny’s main goal is carefully placing all of your important bowls and dishes in the high shelf. 

“Again, thank you so much for all of your help,” You say, handing Johnny a decorative bowl your mother gave you as a gift when you moved to your own place for the first time.

“It’s no problem! We’re in between comebacks right now, so all we really do is wait for the Dreamies to post ASMR videos or my JCC stuff, but sometimes taking a break and doing things like this is better than filming everything 24/7 y’know? It’s almost therapeutic.” Johnny says cheerfully, giving you a gentle smile. 

“So Y/N,” Johnny begins, lifting the next box and moving to the next set of cabinets, “How did you and Taeyong meet? I know you guys grew up together, but like what’s the history?”

You smile, looking at the boy in the living room who is currently settling the argument between Sicheng and his girlfriend. 

“Well, historically, we’ve just been close friends,”

“No, no. Like, romantically. I’ve seen the way Taeyong lights up when he talks about you. There’s no way there’s no history between the two of you.”

You hesitate when you hand him the next plate. He is right, it’s not like there wasn’t anything going between the two of you, there definitely was something, “Well… if I’m being completely honest, there was. But it all ended when he left.”

Johnny nods, “I see, I see. Well, never say never! You’re back now, so anything could happen. And I mean, if it doesn’t work with him.... I know this tall, Chicago man that is available…” 

He smirks at you suggestively. You pull the towel that rests on his neck then hit his side.

“Hey hey, don’t hate the player, hate the game.” He laughs. You roll your eyes as you grab the empty box and put it in the pile of empty boxes. 

The rest of the afternoon goes rather smoothly as everyone finishes up with your’s and Hyunzie’s apartment. You and Taeyong sit on the couch while Hyunzie and Sicheng sit on the ground, leaning against the coffee table they assembled together. Hyunzie leans her head on Sichengs shoulder, dozing off. A movie plays in the background while you and Taeyong talk softly.

You stretch while Taeyong grabs your attention.

“Y/N, I just wanted to let you know that I’m so happy you’re here now.”

You smile at you him, “I am, too. I finally feel like I’m doing something worth my time, you know?”

He nods at you, “I know what you mean. Look, I also want to apologize for not being there for you--”

“--Tae, I’m going to stop you right there. I completely understand, I wouldn’t still be your best friend if I didn’t understand. I love you, more than you could ever know, Tae. You never have to apologize to me for anything.”

He gives you a somber smile, then gently places his hand over yours, “Thank you for being you. I love you, too.”

Your heart clenches, hearing him say those words truly fills you with joy. You know that he said it platonically, but you for sure didn’t. You honestly don’t mind it being a one-sided love. It’s better this way for everyone. Well, everyone except for you. But you were at peace with it. You know that Taeyong simply can’t be with you; the repercussions are too extreme. But right now, he isn’t Taeyong, the leader of NCT. He’s Lee Taeyong, your childhood best friend and the man you’re completely and utterly in love with.

---

2 months later

---

Your life as a songwriter has been amazing for its first month. Your song was recorded with all of the boys singing it wonderfully; the head producer said the songs you wrote were some of NCT’s best. 

You sit in a studio, laying some tracks over each other when you hear a knock at the door. The clear glass door shows the handsome features of Taeyong and you smile at him, stepping out of your chair to let him in.

He lifts up a plastic bag filled, two boxes of sushi inside. Your eyes light up as you walk with him to the couch inside of the studio.

“I got you your favorite,” he smiles while taking out a box for you.

“You know me so well,”

“Of course I do! I also know that you’re not going to be able to break these chopsticks evenly.”

Snap. Right as he says that, you broke your chopsticks, unevenly at the top. You stick your tongue out at him, giving him some sass.

“Okay you, you’re right but you didn’t have to be.”

He laughs, “I’m sorry. I just can’t resist. Anyway, how is the song-writing going? Are you giving Renjun any insane lines?”

You shake your head, “I’m actually just working on the beat for the rap track right now. Jaemin and Jeno have really increased their rap game from what I can remember. They can deal with something super complex.”

Taeyong nods, “Who would you say is your favorite rapper right now?”

“Between Jaemin and Jeno?”

“No, just in general.”

“NCT in general? Or in general, general?”

“In general, general! Y/N, stop bouncing around the question,” he whines slightly. You snicker. You know he’s trying to get you to say his name, but you won’t give him that satisfaction.

“Well, my favorite rapper right now has to be the rap god of NCT.”

“See! Was that so--”

“Yes, Mark Freaking Lee. Baby Lion really knows whats up.”

“O-Oh…” Taeyong suddenly finds his sushi really interesting as his gaze isn’t on you anymore.

You punch his arm, “Stop pouting dummy, of course I’m kidding. You’re my favorite rapper by default.”

His expression lights up, “Hehe, thank you.”

You both finish up the meal, happy and full. A chime goes off on your phone and you check it, your stomach drops. Even though it’s only your second month working for SM, other companies have noticed your work and they want you to work for them. SM gives you a pretty paycheck, but these other companies want to give you more. After they saw your work with NCT’s comeback, they want to see what else you can do. Other companies are offering you more money for your songs and you genuinely don’t know what to do.

“Tae, I have to tell you something.”

He knows that tone. He knows that you want to talk to him about something serious. “Let’s go for a walk.” 

---

You walk outside, your breath coming out as puffs of clouds because of the cold air. Taeyong walks beside you, walking perfectly at your side.

You hide your head in your scarf, attempting to warm your cheeks, as you sigh.

“Yongie, JYP is offering me a job. They’re willing to pay me almost double what SM is paying me right now.”

Taeyong stops walking as you do too.  “Y/N! That’s amazing!”

You sigh, “That’s the thing. I want to take it, but I love working for SM and more importantly, I love working with you.”

Taeyong sighs and places his hands on your shoulder, causing you to look up at him, “Look, distance has never been an issue with us. Whatever choice you make, you’ll make the right one. I’ll be by your side no matter what happens.”

“Yeah bu--”

“No! No buts. No matter what happens, we’ll be okay Y/N, I promise.”

You look up at him. You take in his beautiful face, something you’re so glad you can see it up close. You look at his big doe eyes, his angled nose and jawline that seem like they were sculpted by the gods themselves. You pay close attention to his lips that are formed in a slight pout. You never realized how soft his lips looked before. You question how they might feel against--

Woah. Where did that come from? 

You sniff as the lump in your throat isn’t so tight anymore. You look back up to his eyes and nod. You know you’ll be happy with whatever you choose because you have him. He gives you a light hearted smile then he reaches for your cold hand, holding it in his warm ones. Your heart flutters, but you don’t question him. This is exactly the amount of comfort you need right now. 

You guys continue your walk, hand in hand, his warmth reassuring you that everything will be okay.

Click. Click. Click.

---

3 months later

---

This all leads you  here. That night, you were being reckless and you or Taeyong didn’t think about the repercussions. Taeyong walked you home that night and you woke up to your social media and your email and your texts all full beyond belief.

New SM employee already cozies up to NCT’S Leader, Lee Taeyong

“Who is this girl? She’s a nobody.”

“It finally makes sense how she got into SM! It’s all Taeyong’s doing!”

“I can’t believe someone is taking our Taeyong away from us! She’s not nearly good enough for him!”

“What does Taeyong see in a girl like her??? She’s not even pretty.”

You read all those comments and immediately shut down. You didn’t realize what had happened that night until you read who the source was from. Dispatch saw you and Taeyong that night and ran with the story. Your whole career and Taeyong’s career was ruined. Hyunzie ran into your room that morning, throwing your phone away from you. You cried. Because that one night, you were so reckless, you ruined your best friends career. You packed a bag then headed back to your hometown, you needed to be away from there for a while.

From that moment, you cut off all ties you had with Taeyong, not even talking to him after that event. You were only thinking for him. It’s better for everyone this way. You took the job with JYP and you have been working there ever since. 

You moved back in with Hyunzie after everything died down a bit. She promised you that she wouldn’t let Taeyong in when he came, but it seemed that he didn’t want to see you either. He didn’t visit you after he learned you moved away. He was away on tour when you came back, so you knew you didn’t have to avoid him.

Except for now.

He just returned from tour and it brings you back here, he’s knocking at your door. God, of all the times Hyunzie chose to be with Sicheng, it had to be now. You’re weak, you open the door and he lets himself in as he hugs you. Your tears spilling into his shirt. 

He holds you tight and he holds you close, seeming scared that you would float away from him if he let go. He holds the back of your head into his chest as he leans into your neck, crying himself.

“Y/N, why?” he sobs quietly. “What happened?”

You don’t answer. You quietly cry into his shirt. You don’t know why. You thought it would be best for everyone this way, but now, in his arms, you realize it wasn’t.

He breaks away from the hug and holds your face in his hands, his tear stained eyes staring into yours. You don’t think it’s possible for your heart to break anymore than it already has, but it does when you see his glossy eyes. He wipes the tears that spill from your eyes as he places his forehead against yours. 

He whispers so softly, “Please, don’t leave me.”

Again, you don’t respond. You gently brush your lips against his and he returns your kiss. He kisses you slowly, your heart clenches. This moment is the sweetest you’ve ever had, but it’s equally the saddest. You’re finally doing the thing you’ve wanted to do for the longest time, but why does it hurt?

You break away from the kiss as he keeps his forehead on yours. You close your eyes, trying to savor the moment. You feel safe, you feel protected, you feel love. 

You know none of this can’t last.

Those happy emotions you feel make everything so much worse. You know that he can’t stay. You know that it can’t be like this. You know that your heart will just break in the end.

He kisses you again, this time with more passion. It hurts, but you can’t stop.

“Y/N please, I’m sorry.”

“Prove it to me, then. Don’t stop kissing me.”

He doesn’t. He holds you so close because it’s almost as if he knows the second that he lets go, you let go too.

Your back hits your mattress, his lips still on yours. Clothes are shed, tears still fall. Your bodies mold as one as he proves to you, again and again, the extent of his love. You cry even more. You love him so much, but that’s why you can’t be with him. 

When he holds you, when he kisses you, it’s the sweetest thing. That’s why it hurts the most.

The life of an idol isn’t one for you and you know that. It fits Taeyong well, which is why this is your last night with him. You love him so much, that’s why you can’t keep him. He was never your’s to keep.

You look over at his sleeping form, his bottom half covered by your covers. You lean over and kiss his head one more time before you stand up. You quietly pack up your bag then head out the door. JYP has a branch in Japan that they want you to head and you were on the fence about it. 

Seeing Taeyong one more time helped you make up your mind. You leave a note for Hyunzie and send her a text. You found a last minute flight to Tokyo, you bought the last ticket, and you’re on your way.

You love Lee Taeyong too much to stay with him. Staying with him will only taint his image.

When he held you, when he kissed you, it was the sweetest thing. 

But it’ll just have to live on in that memory.

---

i hate writing angst for this exact reason....

this is my first official angsty piece tho! i hope you guys liked it :)

it’s been a while but my writer’s block is finally gone! i’ll continue on with more fluffy pieces for this series :)))

anyway, this part may have a part 2? we’ll see the vibes of the lyrics

- amy <3