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effortandmore · 1 year

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worth all your while (ch.1) | knj x reader

summary: you know kim namjoon from your work, but running into him outside of seoul tips your relationship into new territory and your world upside down. eventually, you wonder how there can be a million ways to say "i love you," and namjoon, a literal genius, can't manage a single one when it comes to you. or: 5 times namjoon can't make himself say "i love you" but thinks you understand him anyway (you do not), and then the one time he gets it right

pairing: namjoon x f!reader

rating: explicit (18+ please)

genre: smut, fluff, light angst, au: famous, but not an idol

warnings: smut, swearing, alcohol, here are the specific smut tags for this chapter: kissing, penetrative sex, fingering, spanking, sex in an airport bathroom (do not recommend, fwiw)

word count: ~5.5k

a/n: idk what to say! i needed to write a fic for yoongi's birthday, but i can't for some reason, so i'm writing this. i hope you enjoy 💜 i'll update chapters probably weekly, maybe bi-weekly, isn't it fun when some things in life are mysteries? the title is from "static" by steve lacy - i love him. thank you as always to the cabal: @ugh-yoongi, @hot-soop, and @the-boy-meets-evil for putting your eyes on this for me. love you all. this is posted to ao3 here if you like to read fics there.

next chapter

Unpopular opinion: airports are magical places.

You didn’t always think that, but you’ve changed. Opinion swayed. All it took was one delay on a layover in London for you to start singing a different tune.

Seoul to anywhere feels like a long flight lately. You love it there, but getting out, back to where you’re from, takes literal days. The short break at Heathrow is welcome, a chance to move around a little before you get on another almost ten hour flight. It seems like a nothing thing, to wander through the concourses and shops after you’ve made it through the customs check. Each time you’re here is the same as the last. Until it’s not. You’ve done it a hundred times: sniff different scents at Jo Malone, look for a bag you shouldn’t spend the money on at Louis Vuitton, talk yourself out of buying duty-free scotch because you know you’d never drink it in front of your mother anyway… Maybe on the way home, you think (but you never do).

“Excuse me.” You’re staring at the Balvenie you can’t really afford, thoughts drifting, when someone startles you.

“Sorry,” you mumble, stepping to the side.

There’s a man there, right there. He’s stepped up close so that your arms are practically touching. He’s tall, with dark hair under a beanie, an expensive jacket that’s made to look like it isn’t, and his face hidden under a mask that isn’t required here. There’s something about him, even though you can only see a stripe of his face, that looks familiar. For some reason, neither of you move; he keeps staring at the thousand-pound bottle of scotch, and you keep staring at him.

“You can’t drink it on the plane, you know?” You say it more than you ask it, and of course he knows. Everyone knows. But you see the corners of his eyes crinkle a little and you think he’s smiling under the mask. He finally turns to look at you.

“Was thinking I’d get it as a gift,” he explains, shrugging his shoulders.

“Nice gift,” you remark.

“Yeah…” he replies, turning his attention back to the bottle. “It’s pretentious, isn’t it?”

And at that, you smile. “Maybe a little. Depends on who it’s for.”

“No one special.”

“It’s none of my business,” you say, “but I wouldn’t buy ‘no one special’ a hundred-pound bottle of scotch, let alone a thousand-pound bottle.”

The man laughs, and you notice another guy walk up, right next to him. He’s bigger, older, and way too serious looking for your taste. They seem to have a silent conversation and then the would-be whisky buyer turns back to you. “Time for my flight,” he says. “Thanks for the advice.”

“Anytime,” you nod, still smiling even though you can’t tell anymore if he’s smiling back. Can’t hurt to be polite.

After he goes, you realize you aren’t going to buy the scotch, either, and it’s probably about time for your flight, too, so you start the scramble to your gate.

One of the bad things about flying all the time is that you feel like you see more than your fair share of delays. And this trip is no different. When you make it to the gate, you can sense the panic before you even see the notification. There’s a particular brand of hysteria that sets in with people when their flights are delayed, and it’s amplified with inter-continental flights in your experience. All of the things that make airports romantic and interesting are the same things that make people think they can behave any way they want and it won’t matter. It's like upon entering, people think they get carte blanche to be raging assholes to the poor airline counter guy who’s just trying to make sure everyone gets where they’re going and probably only makes enough to barely pay his rent.

So, you know before you’re told that there’s a delay, and you can tell by the level ten panic around you that it’s probably a long one. It’s confirmed when you see the headlines across one of the large televisions at the gate. Big storm off the coast of the Eastern US. All flights are delayed from what you can tell. Yours looks to have a delay of about six hours, but you know from experience it could be more. You’ll just have to wait and see. You’re lucky, you want to get home, but there’s really not a huge rush on your end, so you can wait it out if you need to.

There’s a quiet spot at a gate with no pending flight, near yours and a few of the other gates with international flights scheduled to leave. You hate sitting, knowing you’ve done it for a half a day already and have another long flight (eventually) in front of you, but you don’t know what else to do and at least you have a couple books in your carry on.

Maybe thirty minutes passes of you reading when you look up, just to see how things are settling around you as people start to either (like you) become resigned to the fact that they’re not going anywhere for a while, or let their anger hit a fever pitch with the gate agent.

You see a familiar fancy jacket waiting near the ticket counter, his friend from earlier having an animated chat with a woman who doesn’t seem like she speaks enough Korean to be keeping up. Fancy Coat is watching, looking amused and not chiming in, even though you know firsthand he can speak English perfectly well, and could probably be a help to his travel companion.

Because you’re one of those people who can never do things as subtly as you think you do, you’re caught out—Nice Jacket turns his head and his eyes lock with yours before you can look away; he knows you’re watching. He tilts his head, eyes widening with what you hope is amusement and not terror that you were looking. Slowly, he brings his hand up and waves at you, then gives you a gesture like he wants you to wait for something before he leans in and says something to his friend.

You turn back to your book, embarrassed.

A considerable chunk of whatever willpower you have is used in Not Looking when you hear (and feel) someone plop into the chair next to you.

“Good book?” Nice Jacket asks.

“Mmhmm,” you murmur, trying not to make things any weirder than you’ve already made them by staring. It is, in fact, not a good book. But your colleague wrote it, and he’s the special kind of narcissist that will ask you what you thought of it every day you see him until you provide some sort of satisfactory feedback kissing his ass.

“That guy’s a jackass,” he comments.

And that gets your attention. You turn to him, a little surprised. “You know him?”

Nice Jacket nods, eyebrows raised. “Do you not remember me?” he asks.

“From the duty-free shop?”

He laughs, louder than he means to judging by how he stops himself and looks around self-consciously. “No… I think you’ve interviewed me before…”

Things begin to snap into place rapidly. Because now that he says it, he goes from looking vaguely familiar to being instantly recognizable. You don’t really keep up with him or his music, but you have interviewed him, when your asshole colleague had passed one of his assignments to your desk, assuming you’d “like that kind of thing.”

At the time, you’d tried not to let yourself assume the worst about what he meant, and you did the interview over Zoom with no protest to your coworker or your boss. It wasn’t the kind of thing your magazine usually wrote about, but the article was focused on his art collection, and it gave you a good opportunity to learn something you wouldn’t have in a gossip magazine, and a chance to look good for your boss. The whole thing hadn’t lasted more than eight minutes, professional and easier than most of your interviews. Since then, you’ve been in the same room as him a few times at events you’d covered, exchanged greetings and appreciations on both sides for the article, and obviously, you know who he is.

He’s famous, but not like… idol famous. Stage name RM, he’s a rapper and producer who works with a small collective. You see him in magazines and on TV, his popularity growing over the last few years less for his music and more for his work in art preservation.

“Oh my god…” you say, closing your book and dropping your voice to a whisper. “Kim Namjoon. I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize it was you.”

“Good,” he says with a wink. “That’s the point.” He gestures vaguely to his beanie and his mask and the sunglasses he took off when he sat down next to you.

“How are you?” you ask, because it’s polite, and that’s what you should do, even though you’re not even sure why he’s sitting here speaking to you.

“Alright,” he says, but you notice he seems a little amused.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He raises his hands defensively.

“No, what? Why’s it funny to ask how you’re doing?”

Namjoon doesn’t say anything for a second, just watches you with his head cocked. “I guess no one ever really asks me that,” he says.

You scoff. “That’s ridiculous.”

What’s more ridiculous is that you’re sitting in Heathrow having a conversation with this sort of famous person who you kind of know, but not in a “run into you in the airport and have a casual chat” kind of way. Or maybe it is like that, because that’s exactly what happens.

You talk about how he’s doing (pretty well but tired from traveling and ready to be settled in his hotel). Then you talk about your asshole coworker and his not-very-good book. You laugh at a story he tells you about said coworker, and you feel your face heat up when he says how relieved he was that you interviewed them instead of anyone else from your magazine, and how much he’d liked talking to you that day. He’s bluntly honest with you about his preference for doing interviews with Korean-language publications, which you completely understand. He tells you that he didn’t mind doing an interview for your small English-language one because you at least greeted him in Korean and tried out a couple questions in the language.

“It’s my job to make people feel comfortable,” you say flippantly. It’s true, it is your job, and you talk to a lot of sort-of-famous people and their people, so you know that at the end of the day, they’re just people. You get better results and better interviews when you treat them as such. When you tell Namjoon that, you can see him grinning under his mask, you can tell for sure this time by the way the corners of his eyes pinch.

“That’s a nice way to think of it,” he finally says. “It’s good to be treated like Namjoon and not RM sometimes.”

“Happy to be of service,” you say.

Before you can say more, you’re interrupted by his friend, who you now understand isn’t exactly a friend but a manager or a bodyguard or some combination of both. He explains that it’ll be a few hours, that there aren’t any other flight options, and that he and Namjoon can go make themselves a little more comfortable in the airport lounge. It’s spoken like a suggestion, but the way he side-eyes you as he speaks makes you certain it’s more of a directive. Namjoon nods along until his manager tells him, in hushed Korean, that he can’t just sit out in the open talking to strangers.

“She’s not a stranger,” he says, clearly pleased with himself.

After a brief explanation that you’re an acquaintance (which is how Namjoon puts it and is a little more generous than you would have been), his manager lightens up, and even keeps his mouth shut when Namjoon invites you to come with them to the lounge. He does, however, insist on walking alongside you when you agree to go with them, making Namjoon walk a little ways in front of you both. Better safe than sorry, you suppose, even though no one seems to be paying any attention to the three of you.

At the lounge, his manager has a brief conversation with the airline employee at the desk, and then the three of you are whisked through the entrance, past the service desk and the bar, and into a small, private room at the back of the lounge. Namjoon puts his bag down and moves to the coffee machine, pausing to ask if you want anything as he fumbles with the stack of cups there. Cute. The professional in you hates that you even had that thought pass through your mind, but the rest of you doesn’t mind. He is cute, he gets paid to be cute (at least partially), he knows he’s cute. You have eyes, so obviously you see it, too.

His manager unceremoniously pulls an eye mask and headphones out of his bag, seats himself in the corner, and announces he’s going to try and sleep and to wake him up if anything interesting happens, leaving the two of you essentially on your own.

When you have your drinks, you pull your masks off, settle into loungers in the opposite corner of the room, and start talking again. It comes easily between the two of you—you’re used to asking questions and he’s used to answering them. He’s going to New York for a “personal schedule,” and you don’t ask for more details because you know he wouldn’t give them to you anyway. His whole face lights up when he tells you about an exhibit at the Whitney he’s hoping to catch, about how he’s willing to suffer through the jet lag for a glimpse at a certain Hockney that he probably won’t ever see in Korea.

Eventually, the tables turn a little, and he starts asking you about your own life. It’s less interesting (in your opinion) than his, but he’s a good listener, and asks good questions. He seems really excited (and remembers, to your surprise) that you’re an arts reporter, asks what you’re writing about lately, asks if you’ve seen anything new that caught your eye, even asks you for gallery recommendations around Seoul. You have a few, and he actually jots down notes in his literal notebook while you speak, claiming he’ll forget which you recommended if he doesn’t write it down. Cute again.

Hours pass, and you’d swear it’s only been a few minutes. It’s been a long time since you talked with someone like this—leisurely, candidly (or as candid as he can be, anyway). You get food brought to you by an airline employee, and you know it’s an upgrade from what’s being served in the rest of the lounge, but Namjoon isn’t phased at all. You suppose this is his normal, so there’s nothing out of the ordinary for him.

“I can’t believe you get special food,” you say when you’ve finished.

“Special food?”

“Well yeah, they’re not serving anything other than soup and crackers out there. Maybe carrot sticks.”

“Oh…” he says quietly, brow furrowed, like he’s really thinking about it. “Do you think I should ask them to bring barbeque to everyone else?” You actually think he means it. So fucking cute, you think.

After you talk him out of wielding his influence, mostly using the argument that it would be an immense amount of work for the airline staff, you settle in again. He produces a blanket from a cabinet against one of the walls of the room, and it’s an obvious sign this whole experience is totally typical for him. When he hands you the blanket, you can’t help it, you smile at him and probably look a little smitten. You might just be.

You offer him part of the blanket, and he accepts, pulling it over his lap and asking you if he took too much. (He didn’t). You talk more, and you feel relaxed with him—it’s so easy to forget he’s who he is and you’re who you are. It’s just like getting to know any other casual acquaintance better except he’s stupid good-looking and you start to notice that your faces are a lot closer together than they started out as you talk about Marci Kwon and the interesting work that the Asian American Art Initiative is doing. It was the last article you’d written, and you’re surprised to hear he’s read it.

You’re saying something about non-hierarchical modes of presenting research in art when you realize he’s not listening anymore, just staring at you intently. You’ve been talking a lot. For a while… Maybe talking too much; maybe he’s bothered.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

His eyes widen like he’s the one who’s been caught-out this time. “I’m really good,” he says, almost like he’s surprising himself.

It makes you beam. “Good,” you say. “I’ve liked talking to you.”

He nods. “I’ve liked talking to you, too. You have a lot to say.”

The fact that you can feel his breath on your face when he speaks makes you certain that you’re sitting too close, that something is happening that probably shouldn’t be. It makes you forget that “you have a lot to say” isn’t always a good thing. You think that everything might sound good when it comes from his mouth, that even the worst insult would trickle out like honey. Your heart rate has picked up, you now notice, and you both keep just staring at each other—you don’t know why you don’t move or look away, it’s like you can’t even though you know you should.

Namjoon’s eyes flick up behind you to where his manager is, and you can hear the man snoring, so you know he’s not aware at all of what’s happening right in front of him.

“They don’t have cameras in here,” Namjoon says. “It’s why we come here.”

You nod, nothing to say to that—you’re not even sure why he said it unless…

“Can I kiss you?”

That is the exact moment when every coherent and rational thought you have ever had rushes out of your brain like a waterfall. You’re not even sure how you manage to respond, but this very cute, very smart, very interesting person has just expressed interest in you of all people, and you’d be an idiot not to say yes.

“Oh my god, please,” you say all in one hurried breath.

And before you’re even finished, his lips are on yours. It’s soft, more chaste than you’d expected, but it doesn’t stay that way when he nips at your bottom lip and licks into your mouth. One of his hands comes to the back of your neck, fingers teasing at your hair and pulling you closer as you practically melt into him. It’s a good kiss, a fantastic kiss, and all you can think is more, more, more as the two of you try and do your best to be as close as you can over the armrests of the stupid lounge chairs.

When you part, his eyes are a little wild, and you think yours must be, too.

“I have to wake him up soon,” he says, looking past you. “It’s almost time for our flight.”

You glance over your shoulder at his manager who’s still totally unaware of what’s happening around him, and then stand, offering a hand to Namjoon, too.

It’s a rare moment of boldness, but something’s come over you, and you’re acting with very little thought as to what you’re doing and how stupid it probably is. “Come on,” you say, tugging him up. When he’s standing right in front of you, you put your hands on his chest and raise up on your tiptoes to whisper, “Let’s get out of here for a minute.”

He wipes across his bottom lip with his thumb, pausing probably to think about what you’re implying, and then he bends to kiss you quickly before he agrees. “Okay, yeah, let’s go.”

It’s not your fault that you know where the ‘family restroom’ is—you passed by it on the way to the back of the lounge and you notice things, you remember things.

You hope he doesn’t think you do this kind of thing all the time, or ever, although you don’t know why you care what he thinks since you’re also willfully oblivious to any looks you might be getting from any passersby who see you tug him into the room behind you.

It’s sheer luck that your go-to travel outfit is a fairly basic knit dress. It takes him no time to have you pinned up against the door, lips on your neck, hand rucking up the front of your dress so that he can get a hand under your tights. God, it feels good. He feels good, large and solid and his fingers… fuck. They’re long and nimble and he’s clearly not new to this, but neither are you, so you roll your hips forward and moan at the contact when he slips his hand under your tights.

“You’re already wet,” he says, surprised, pulling his head back so he can look at you properly, his fingertips skimming between your legs.

You nod and pull him back in to kiss you again—you only know a few things about Kim Namjoon, but you already know you like talking to him, and now you know you like his lips on yours even more than that.

“Come here,” you say, and slide away from the door, pulling him with you so that you can bend over the small vanity where you can see yourselves in the mirror above it. He’s been polite, almost too nice for what you’re in the mood for, and you don’t know if he’ll take the initiative, so you lock eyes with him in the mirror and slide your tights down from under your dress, stepping out of them one leg at a time.

In the mirror, you watch as he tentatively sticks a hand out to feel you again, groaning when his fingertips slide against you so easily. One, then quickly two fingers enter you, slowly moving in and out, and he studies your reflection, like he’s trying to learn what you like. It’s a lot of effort for a one-night stand in a Heathrow airline lounge. He pulls his joggers down; he’s already hard, feels big against your ass and the back of your thigh.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he sighs. It’s apparently not lost on him how you watch him in the mirror, pupils blown, because then he asks, “You want to watch me fuck you?” He winds the fingers of his free hand around a handful of your hair and tentatively pulls your head up so he can look you in the eye through the mirror.

You watch him focus on you nodding and pulling your bottom lip between your teeth; he drops your hair as he stares. He has to know already how much you want it, but he makes you say it anyway.

“Tell me you want to see me make you come,” he whispers into the back of your neck, breath hot against the shell of your ear. Behind you, he’s rolling on a condom that seems to have appeared out of nowhere—you wonder if he had one in his pocket ‘just in case.’

You smirk, widen your eyes, and nod again. “Please? Will you fuck me? I want—” You pause to turn your head over your shoulder and kiss him again. “I want to watch you make me come.”

Holding onto your hip, he pushes his cock, thick and flushed, into you quickly; you don’t have much more time before his flight.

He groans as he starts thrusting, pulling almost all the way out slowly before snapping back into you.

“Oh shit…” you whisper each of the first few times he pushes into you.

Your head falls as he fucks you—It’s so good, he’s deep deep deep, and you feel so full, and you might cry it’s been so long since someone’s fucked you like this… But he wants your attention, so he brings a hand up and slaps you lightly along the back of your thigh to get you to look up.

It wasn’t hard, but you’re barely acquaintances, so he seems to hesitate, looking to your reflection for reassurance. In return, you look him straight in the eye and let out a moan.

“You wanted to watch, so watch,” he whispers.

“Do it again... please,” you plead softly as you raise your head and push your hips back against him.

He lifts the other hand and strikes the swell of your ass this time, harder than the first slap, making you suck in a breath. White knuckles grip the sides of the sink as your skin turns pink, but you’re still smirking and soaking wet, asking for more as he grips your hips to fuck you harder.

“Harder… I need you… feels so good,” you pant.

You move to lean on an elbow and bring your other hand down to your clit. His hand follows yours and moves it out of the way as he leans forward to whisper, “I thought you wanted me to make you come.”

“Then do it.”

Namjoon slows the movements of his hips to focus on you, rubbing circles over your clit with his fingertips and sucking on your neck, right against your pulse point, sending shivers along the length of your spine.

He rolls his hips into her as you grind against him, whimpering quietly, “Fuck, Joon… yes… oh, fuck…” You trail off, not able to focus on anything except his hands and his cock. You don’t even care that you’re already using nicknames with him.

“Finally got you to stop talking so much,” he teases as he works you nearer to orgasm.

You’d laugh, okay with being teased, except you’re practically shaking now, close to release, so he puts more pressure on your clit and moves his cock in you a little less deep, hitting you exactly where you need him each time.

God, you look good together. There’s a sweat sheen on your foreheads, his cheeks are painted with a rose blush, and your eyes are wide, watching yourself with curiosity in the mirror as you start to come.

You’re close, so close, tightening on his cock as he lets go of your hip and puts a hand over your mouth just in time to muffle the loud cry you make when your orgasm hits.

Your cunt pulses around him and he drags his hands slowly away from it and your mouth, back to your hips.

“You ready?” he whispers.

“Good girl,” he affirms as you nod, and that absolutely shouldn’t have you ready to come on his cock again, but maybe you have a praise kink you didn’t know about. You whimper when he starts fucking into you again, resuming his previous faster pace.

It doesn’t take long for Namjoon to come after that, with you babbling nonsense about how good his cock is and begging for him to come inside you. He thrusts into you one last time and releases into the condom, watching in the mirror as you give him a satisfied grin and roll your hips with his.

When he pulls out of you, he drops to his knees and kisses you where he’d left a handprint on your ass. It makes your breath hitch, feels too intimate for people barely know one another and who’ve just fucked in an airport bathroom. But then he pulls you up to standing, smoothing your dress around your legs. He grabs a bundle of toilet paper and hands it to you to wipe up.

“Look at you,” you tease, “what a gentleman.”

He pulls his joggers up and watches you flush the tissue while he discards the condom. You fiddle around for your tights and slide them on under your dress.

When you’re finished, you lean against the sink and watch him—he’s cute like this: face still flushed, hair mussed, and most of all, he looks as nervous as you’re starting to feel.

“I don’t do this kind of thing,” you say. Your voice is a little wobbly, and you wonder where any of the self-assurance you’d had earlier when you dragged him into the room has gone to.

Namjoon laughs, bright and dimpled, before he replies. “Fuck, me either. I mean… people sometimes… know who I am and I have to be careful.” The last words come out in a rush.

“Careful how?”

He looks fully embarrassed now. “LIke my manager is going to kick my ass when we walk out of here and… well, people back home would have a field day with this if someone saw.”

You’re not even sure what to say to that. Because of course you know who he is, you get that he’s famous, but the thought of talking about this with anyone just seems… It’s not like it makes you look very good either, so you’d never. It would be professional suicide; you’d never be taken seriously again. You spit out the next words mindlessly, just trying to make it less awkward. “You think this was the ‘something interesting’ we were supposed to wake him up for?” Namjoon just looks at you like you’re nuts before you both burst into laughter.

When you catch your breath again, you get a little more serious, your voice softer. “I’ll sign something. Whatever we should have done before, we can do it now, you can email me or whatever. God, this is crazy…” You trail off, consequences of what you’ve done starting to sink in.

“Okay… Thank you,” he says. “I hate how awkward this is. I’m sorry.”

You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling a lot more vulnerable than you can ever remember feeling. Is he sorry that you did this together or is he sorry that it’s awkward? You don’t really know. Maybe it’s both.

“This was a mistake,” you say without thinking, and his face falls.

“You think that?” he asks quietly, stepping into your space and reaching out to stroke your arms gently. “Because I really don’t. I know things are complicated with me? But… I liked you when I met you for the interview, I liked you today, and I’d like to see you again. I really wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t think anything would come of it. I’m not that kind of guy.”

“Aren’t all guys that kind of guy?” you ask, wondering if he’s even for real.

“No,” he says. And you think he’s sincere. “Really. I’ve never done something like this before.”

You nod, uncrossing your arms and letting your hands slide into his. “So, we should go though… You have a flight to catch, and I guess I have an NDA to sign.” You’re trying to tease, but you think you probably just sound fucking terrified.

“Can I have your number?” he asks.

“For the NDA,” you affirm, taking the phone he’s sticking out to you and typing in your contact info.

“And for a date, maybe?” he says. And when you look up at him, he looks bashful, nervous even, as if you could ever say no to this man with a big brain and a dick to match who has just made you feel at least twelve new things in the last few hours.

“I’ll be back in Seoul in two weeks,” you say, handing him his phone back.

He smiles wide at that, and leans in to kiss your cheek. Cute again.

“I’ll call you,” he says eagerly. “And someone will be in touch about the paperwork… Sorry again.”

“Not your fault.” You shrug. “But you should head out first so it looks less weird, probably. I’ll freshen up for a minute and then be out in a bit.”

“Right,” he agrees. “Okay. So… I’ll see you in Seoul?”

You can’t help but be endeared to him; the fact that he seems to think you might actually not want to see him again makes you go all squishy inside. “It’s a date,” you confirm.

“Great! Okay… I’m gonna just… go now.” He points at the door, fumbling behind himself for the latch, like he doesn’t want to break eye contact with you.

“Okay, Namjoon… It was good to run into you and…” You hate that you can’t say anything coherent, your sentence just ending in, “stuff.”

He laughs and pulls his mask back on. “It was good to run into you and stuff, too.”

Finally, he’s got the door unlocked, and before he slips back into the lounge he says, “I’m really going to call you, okay?”

You aren’t sure why, but you believe him when he says it even though you know better, and all the weird feelings you’ve been having about him come together in a bright firework feeling in your chest. Something like hope, maybe.

“Talk to you soon,” you say quietly.

And then he’s gone, and you’re left breathless, wondering what you’ve just done.

next chapter

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7ndipity · 5 months

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Do you have any fav blogs and ff on here u could recommend !? I love all ur content sm! I’ve read through all your works multiple times 😅 I gotta know who u read on here too! 😩

Oh my goodness, there's so many blogs I love, it would take ages to go through them all, but I'll pick just a few favorites that come to mind.💜

@holdinbacksecrets is one of my absolute favorites, the way they write is so poetic and comforting, I wish I could write half as beautifully as them! I really love their 'boyfriend things' series (part 17 is one of my go-to comfort pieces)

@blu-joons has an insane number pieces for multiple groups on their blog.

@dreamescapeswriting also has an amazing masterlist in a range of styles and AUs for multiple groups.

@jinkookspencil has some really great pieces, especially if you're a Jk bias.

I've also really been enjoying 'Somebody Does Love' from @coffeedepressionsoup lately.

And of course, I have to mention 'Act On It' from @joonie-beanie , since it's pretty much the fic that got me into bts writings.

Again, these are just a few of my favorites. I love reading for so many different writers on here for so many groups, we could be here all night. There are so many amazingly talented people sharing their work with us, they have my full love and respect💜

#7ndipity speaks

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boydepartment · 4 months

Text

₊✩‧｡⋆𐙚 𓆝 enhypen masterlist page two ⋆꙳𓆝 𓆟 𓆞⋆.˚₊✩ ˚₊⋆

page one

Jungwon

your tea is too hot (fluff - oneshot)

Heeseung

coming soon :)

Jay

your new hair is nice (angst to comfort- oneshot)

Jake

coming soon :)

Sunghoon

process (angst to comfort- oneshot)

stfu (angst to complicated lovers, skating au- oneshot)

Sunoo

coming soon :)

Riki

hot tea with honey (fluff/ crack - oneshot)

weird cat guy (comfort/angst/fluff - oneshot)

cold (comfort/angst/fluff- oneshot) (please read the TWs)

spoil it all(fluff/angst - oneshot)

still into you(comfort fic- oneshot)

dont trip (male reader - oneshot)

bf playlist

bf headcanons

so what do you recommend? (gn! engene reader- fluff/crack- oneshot)

All Members

jealous texts

showing up to your work when you’re stressed

finding out you’re in love with him

valentine’s day with them

enhypen as things from 2014 tumblr

ways to show they care

Asks

hair stylist

eat well :P

running 80 miles an hour

psycho

MMMMMWAH

perfect boyfie

kiss the baker

shared passions

bank account sobbing

maybe say sorry

HOO HOO HOO HOO

leopard print beanie

melting

LOOK AT ME

pulled strings

not alone

AH you scared me

go back to sleep

singing you to sleep

peels

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forcemeanakin · 7 months

Note

Adding onto ur hockey head cannons with starlet reader, imagine them going ice skating together <3 I love ice skating sm

Link to original post <3

Hiii, sorry for the late reply! I've been meaning to come back to Victoria's Secret angel!reader so bad 😭 But I've been busy with my dilf!Anakin series! If you enjoy age gap, I highly recommend my new fic (I am my own marketing team, so please forgive my shameless recommendation lmao).

But yes!!! Skating together is a must! I love it as well, so I'm very bias, but I think those two would have so much fun together. I like to think that reader is already a good skater, so it's not so much a dynamic where he teaches her. On the contrary, I like to think that she would help him out more, dragging him up after he fell on his ass because he was chasing you. But the man is Canadian, so I mean, he was built for the ice.

If you are into his real-dad persona, I think it would be something reader and his daughter bond over. Throwing snow at him, racing, making snow angels. The whole deal. He would be in total bliss at seeing his girls connect so well.

But if it's just the two of them:

Snow on their beanies, thick jacket protecting you from the chilly air, nose pink. He finds that especially adorable.

"Love your nose like this. You look so cute." He gently bites it, ripping a laugh from you.

"Did you just bite my nose, mister?" You tease him, gripping the lapels from his jacket and skating backwards.

"I could bite something else." He mocks, taking control of you by your hips. You get closer, as if you were to kiss him, and just when he closes his eyes, you sprint away from him towards the snow. "Hey!"

"Come get me!"

He gets you. He gets you good.

Totally different deal if he tries to teach you how to play hockey. Gloves are out.

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uzis-dopeaf-hat · 19 days

Text

Murder Drones HumanAU + some updates

Summary: Uzi doesn't get along with anyone in her school, let alone her town. Why would she ever do anything for them?

After a fiasco in their chemistry class, she and three other students are forced to compensate by participating in the entertainment portion of Copper-9's big fall festival.

Uzi is almost tempted to just take the three weeks suspension and marks on her record, but if she wants to get out of this town she can't have anything stopping her. So, VERY reluctantly...

She agrees.

A/N: Still planning on a Nuzi post, but I've been so busy that I haven't had time to work on it too much this weekend.

As compensation... I have this?

I pulled that summary out of my ass, but I have a very vague idea of how this series would go. There would be probably at least two parts, each being multi-chapter with, of course, eventual Nuzi. Planning on sprinkling a bit of SmokeyBat and... Thuzi? Thi?? Uzid??? I don't actually know since I don't really... ship them?? Lol, which is a bit funny once you read what I've cooked so far.

Obviously, human au, with like 50 other themes mixed in (eventually). ALSO nothing supernatural (sorry if you wanted that, admittedly I did ponder the idea), but I still think this will be super interesting if I'm able to get a good outline going. I've been thinking about this idea for a few weeks.

Partly inspired by both Broken Balance by Gamecube19 and by chance by spero11 (which if you somehow haven't read I highly recommend). If I end up writing more of this it'll make a bit more sense where my inspiration came from.

Anywho, enough about me, lemme share my weird ideas with you all!

Sidenote: This fic will have NO smut or gore but WILL end with Nuzi if I pursue it, it just needs to simmer :)

Words: 2444

Uzi grumbles as the two idiots sitting in front of her continue their discussion on whether or not they can create their alcohol with the chemicals they were provided with for their chemistry lab that day. They were testing reaction types with certain compounds in various ways, which is up to their lab groups.

This usually isn’t a huge issue as her seatmate- Thad- is typically her assigned partner. Each lab table could fit four people, and since Thad was constantly to the right of her, he’d usually take pity when the teacher made the students choose their partners. Fortunately, that was a rare case when the teacher was in a good mood (which was never) and decided to let them choose their partners freely.

And in those rare cases, every single time Uzi tried to insist she was fine by herself, hide, or even pretend she already had a partner, the teacher has always either caught her or assigned her to an already made group (and this never ends up well for anyone in the classroom). Hence, why Thad (literally the ONLY person who talked to her outside of class occasionally) would always partner up with the girl.

She pretends it doesn’t make her chest feel funny.

But in a not super rare case (unfortunately), the whole lab table was required to conduct today's experiment together.

In front of Uzi sat Sam, the typical resident stoner one can probably conjure up easily in their head. The stereotypical guy, except maybe the lack of obnoxiously dirty and long hair. He always had a beanie on like Uzi herself, though he has a buzzcut whenever it's off… which is seldom (once again, like Uzi).

Uzi wouldn’t mind the boy if he remembered… well, anything about her… but more importantly their freaking assignments that he constantly forgets to finish (she makes Braidon do Sam’s share).

He always forgot her name, and even after re-informing him, he again forgets within the next few minutes. It's probably because of all the edibles he eats. Uzi thanks god every day she doesn’t have to deal with the stench of weed by this boy because god only knows if he’d survive her rage of having to smell that shit all day. They have close lockers so she wouldn’t be able to escape that reek even if she wanted to.

As for Braidon, he was a stuck-up, rude, and obnoxious redhead. He and Thad were definitely on the higher ranking when it came to their school's hierarchy, but unlike Thad, he flaunted that status in the stupidest ways Uzi could imagine. Constantly cut others in line at lunch, always making sure he’d “accidentally” spill his food onto the girl (which, way to get creative, idiot? Lizzy’s pulled that one back in Middle School), being the goddamned teacher's pet while borderline tattling on Uzi for things that never even happened (like the one time Rebecca stuck gum in another girls hair and had Braidon blame Uzi for it), and most recently, decided to “confiscate” Uzi’s belongings for a search as another student has supposedly reported to a staff member that she had firearms on her.

Yeah, Uzi wasn’t fond of the asshole. Her dad always tells her not to fight so much with the other students, always urging her to make amends with the boy. She knows this is only because Braidon’s dad had a huge say in the community, along with one of the bigger funders of their shitty school. Uzi knows she could easily bend that bastard if he ever tried to get physical with her. She knew better than to retaliate physically with so much stacked against her (police chief's daughter or not), but she had her exceptions.

The last time a bully tried really hurting her she kicked them straight in the face. Uzi had never felt more alive. Her dad wasn’t pleased with her two-week suspension, though.

But back to the shithead, he and his annoying ass tie made its presence known by discussing loudly with Sam about the lack of possibility of turning their little chemistry experiment into alcohol of all things.

“Sam of all the things you could contribute, why choose this ridiculous notion? Whoever you give that to is going to end up in the hospital.” Braidon states, seemingly uninterested. Thad lets out a chuckle as Sam just gives a lazy shrug, mixing some chemicals he stole from one of the cabinets into a spare beaker that was left on the shelves. “Just lookin’ for somethin’ to do. Wasn’t this the uh- like, what we’re supposed to be doing anyways?” Sam questions, still casually mixing.

Braidon scoffs as he recites their assignment to Sam. Uzi growls and gets out her worksheet, intending to finish her work before class ends. With or without the help of her partners. Braidon will just figure out the work himself and give the information to Sam to copy.

She notices Thad watching her as she prepares their materials. She flushes a bit but elects to ignore her the heat rushing to her face as she finishes setting up, turning to Thad when she’s deemed everything ready.

“Ya ready?” She asks, making sure she doesn’t sound too interested in what he’ll have to say. Thad nods before he quirks a brow at the two in front of them. “What about them?”

Uzi rolls her eyes, “They’ll catch up, as always”. Uzi cracks her knuckles. “Let’s just get this over with already so I can stop talking to you idiots”.

Thad only nods, used to Uzi’s blase and hostile nature to be able to not feel too offended.

As the two work, Braidon seems to notice them moving on without him and Sam and huffs, before beginning to write down their data and shoving Sam in the arm to try and steer his attention at the task at hand (which has about a 30% success rate).

Despite Uzi’s general dislike of her school’s populace (or her town), they’re usually able to get shit done with minimal issues. Thad and Sam typically make for good buffers between the others. If left alone with each other for too long, an argument is guaranteed, along with a high chance of Uzi having a nice visit to the principal's office.

With that being said, minimal incidents does not mean zero incidents.

The group finishes their lab reports first, thanks to Braidon and Uzi’s high intelligence (not that anyone is singing her praises), and they proceed to turn in their papers. Uzi cleans up the lab table since Sam is too doped up to realize it needs cleaning, while Braidon doesn’t care to help if it means any more interaction with Uzi, which neither of them wants.

Thad, of course, helps. And Uzi makes sure to be extra careful when he hands her a beaker he just rinsed, cautiously preventing her fingers from grazing his (even if she may desperately crave to). It doesn’t take long to finish, and Uzi lets out a sigh as she places herself back on her stool, checking her phone and noting that she only has twenty minutes before class ends. Luckily, this is her last class of the day. Once that bell rings she is out.

Uzi leans down to grab her bag below her seat, struggling, before letting out a defeated groan and hopping out of her chair to reach it instead. She places it on the table before jumping back in her spot yanking her earbuds from the bag's side pocket and shoving them in her ears and phone aux.

She puts on one of the many random playlists she’s painfully curated over the years on, turning up the volume probably too high to drown out her shitty class, before grabbing one of her journals (which looked to have been used quite a bit), a blue and a black ballpoint pen (she’d need new ones soon), and a thick folder filled with varying sizes of used paper (both blank and assignments).

The others ignore her, Thad knowing better than to look at her work as last time he did so she shouted at him so suddenly that he couldn’t hear out of his left ear for the entirety of football practice.

Uzi turns to where she had left the journal’s bookmark ribbon, the page showing different designs for a variety of weapons, the next page is the start of a messy sketch of a landscape being made with small notes added here and there. It was a blank journal, so no lines obscured the mess of ink she had left behind.

Uzi hums as her music continues to blare, turning it up more as some lab tables away a group is having a spat about their results.

Next, she grabs her folder, which is purple and made of cheap cardboard. The spine was starting to deteriorate and the smaller subfolders had been repaired with black duct tape to help keep it together, barely keeping all her papers together (she’d have to delegate some old papers to recycling or her closet soon). All of the papers were filled with notes from over the years, keeping the most important ones to the left, and the most relevant to the right. Uzi grabbed one from the right subfolder and turned it around to check the back, before setting it down and closing the folder.

On one side of the paper was a one-page assignment that had been graded and returned, a large ‘100%’ in red marker covering the top. On the other side, there were more notes, mostly about some sort of story concept, along with side notes to footnotes, unorganized and multicolored. Uzi looks at some of the purple ink left on the paper, making a mental note to grab a pack of purple pens as well when she eventually goes to the store.

Looking at the paper, she smiles a bit before getting to work in her journal, making certain lightly sketched areas more detailed, adding elements she had previously intended to incorporate. In the corner in all caps in small letters, the words “DEATH’S DRONES: PLANET-9 CONCEPT.” Underneath in an even smaller font was “title a work in progress.” Uzi wasn’t very proud of her naming abilities.

As the girl continued her sketching, she didn’t notice her table mates suddenly begin to speak. Not until someone rounded the table and painfully ripped one of her earbuds out.

“OW, What the absolute f-” She’s interrupted from her anger by the suspect, Braidon, tutting at her and waving a hand.

“Oh, hush up you’ll be fine. We just needed you for something real quick.”

Uzi growls as she narrows her eyes, now noticing that Thad and Sam are also staring at her, with Sam at some point having also stood up and placed next to Braidon. He was still holding the beaker from earlier. She checks her phone.

‘2:53,’ a little over five minutes left of this hellhole. Uzi detested the idea of getting into an argument with the idiot in front of her and having to stay at the school for any longer than she wanted because she had somehow “instigated” the dickhead and would probably have to attend detention.

With a groan, the girl relented. “And why the hell do you need me?”

There’s a flash in Braidon’s eyes, and Uzi glares harder. It’s so unfair that the three surrounding her are still taller than her even on this death trap of a chair. Bullshit is what this is, but she’s not about to back down just because of a little height difference.

“Just drink this, Doorman.” He grabs the beaker Sam is holding and shoves it in Uzi’s face. Uzi looks down at it, eyes widening in surprise. Thad lets out a small noise, seemingly debating whether or not to step in. Sam, to his credit, finally looks a little less out of it and gives Braidon a confused look.

“Uhh… I thought you said if someone drank that it would-” He’s cut off when Braidon holds his hand up. The taller of the two glares, “Ah- I was just being hyperbolic, Sam. She’ll be fine! And hey, if this works, Chad and Brad will have something new to serve at their next party. Or you, Thad.” He gives a glance to the jock as he gives out a mirthful smile.

Then, he turns back to Uzi, placing the beaker in front of her. “Whenever you’re ready.” He grins, eyes sharp.

Uzi stares at him, then at Sam, then Thad.

Braidon has a smug grin, his arms crossed as he waits impatiently for Uzi to take a sip of Sam’s concoction. Sam himself looks a little confused but mostly tired. He gives a small yawn and when he catches Uzi’s gaze gives a lazy wave. Thad just looks pensive, smiling encouragingly when their eyes connect.

Uzi takes a breath, pausing her music and calmly taking out her other earbud, before picking up the beaker.

Then, as she stares directly at the redhead, pours the liquid down the sink drain that lies in the middle of their table.

Sam laughs a bit, not caring about his half-hour of work being drained away. Thad looks a little relieved, though stares at the sink confused.

And Braidon looks pissed.

Uzi sticks her tongue out at him and as she’s about to speak, a slow, crescendo of sizzling reaches her ears.

Confused, she turns to Thad who’s still looking at the sink, seemingly startled. She turns only to jolt when she realizes something is coming up from the drain. Both she and Thad bolt up from their seats (Uzi with some difficulty) when the sizzling gets louder and louder.

She bumps into the two boys behind her, but she’s too spooked to care. It seems they have the same mindset as neither comment on it.

Suddenly, there’s a loud ‘pop!’ and a large flash that engulfs the whole room.

And when the light fades away? Uzi pales at what she sees.

The sink was ruined, the metal corroded away and the surface of the table surrounding the sink also had been damaged. Whatever Sam had mixed had eaten at the metal and table, leaving behind smoke that thankfully seemed to be teetering out.

The entire class was quiet, staring at the ruins of the corner lab table with wide eyes and open mouths.

Until a very angry teacher marches up to the four and shouts.

“YOU FOUR, TO THE OFFICE. NOW.”

None of them protested as all four rushed out of the classroom.

Uzi’s hands were shaking.

She ignores it.

...so uh... let me know what y'all think! I don't have a name for this AU or story yet, but as I type more behind the scenes I'm sure I'll think of something... hopefully

I also had a helper with me as I wrote both this post and the "first chapter" so to speak.

Okay, so I don't have a beta and I probably won't need one (Grammarly has my back! I uh... think,,) but N was nice company lol. Uzi will be out soon and you bet I'm gonna go crazy with that when it comes.

The N Shimeji was created by Polar Summit, and you can find their other Shimeji projects here where they update their works!

Thanks for reading all my bullshit if you've made it this far! If I end up pursuing this I'll post it on my AO3, with some potential changes to this "first chapter" (which I want to make a little closer to 4k-5k words).

I won't reveal too much since I really like this idea and I uhhh kinda don't want people to take it? But feel free to ask questions and speculate lol love y'all <3

...

aannnd they've multiplied. goodnight.

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ejunkiet · 1 year

Text

end of year round up (rec list!)

rec lists are a forgotten art in fandom, and I've read so many good fics this year. below are a few of my favourites, although I'll stick with one from each author!

redacted audio - full ao3 bookmarks (94)

- burn me, Asher/Damien by @dominimoonbeam

this was my first bookmark, and it remains one of my favourites. the dynamic is just, so good. ash balances out damien so well. (domini we love all of your work <33)

- I'm out of my element, HuxDami by @jonbinary

set immediately post inversion, and got me on this TRAIN before canon was a thing. Just, gorgeous and tender writing ;u;

- old number seven, Sam/Darlin by @devilbunnyking

Gods, this was stunning. slow rolling tension, sharing a whiskey and plugging tunes in the juke box. Beautiful exploration of both of them!!

- apple and honey, Milo/Sweetheart (18+) by @onesmallcentury

Any redacted reclist would be incomplete without this MASTERPIECE okay. Gods, I cannot count how many times I've reread this. Delicious, gorgeous <3

- refractions, Gavin/Freelancer by @solclaw

The emotional slow burn of those early dates. Just, goddamn stunning. I could curl up in your writing forever, beanie ;u;

- commit it to memory, Huxley/Freelancer by @sealriously-sealrious

honestly, want to link all your writing here Chrys, but this is Huxley! With tattoos!! And @taelonsamada 's gorgeous art!!! MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN

- SWEET TALK, Milo/Sweetheart by @gingerbreadmonsters

this whole series is a MASTERPIECE. the dynamics!! The banter!! It makes me melt okay. all your writing is lovely, but this series holds a special place in my heart <3

- Signs Point to Yes, Milo/Sweetheart (18+) by @wakeupnew

On the subject of Milo and SH, this story has been living rent free in my mind for the last few weeks. The eight ball quotes! AGGRO! The dynamic of these two are just perfect, dealing with the inversion aftermath, and it's just gorgeous.

- fill my heart with song (and let me sing), Milo/Sweetheart (18+) by @autisticempathydaemon

Again on the subject of these two, I absolutely loved this fic. I love all of Lexi's work, but this was delicious 😚💖

- Let's make this night last forever (forever and ever), Milo/Sweetheart (18+) by @glassbearclock

Okay, this FIC. ALL OF BEAN'S MILO FICS. It's a beautiful chronology, but this one is just, fecking fantastic.

- ad astra (per aspera), Avior/Starlight by @lvllns

Starlight and Avior break out of the meridian. Gods, this is absolutely stunning. I love Reed's work, and I'm so very happy I got them into redacted >:3

- An Angel In Wolf's Clothing, David/Angel (no Tumblr?)

FINALLY David makes it onto this list. I've read this story SO MANY TIMES. Gorgeous early revelation exploration, where Davey tells Angel that he's a wolf.

- return to shore, imp!David/angel by @taelonsamada

THE IMPERIUM AU OF MY DREAMS. Giving David and Sam the chance they never had to find happiness in the Imperium. SO PERFECT ;u;

- phases of you, David/angel (no Tumblr! 18+)

Gods, this is one of my favourite redacted fics. Reimagines David and angel's relationship if Angel was a wolf, and they were mated before Gabe died. Long fic!! Had me obsessed for a weekend. Still obsessed hehehe

- (Gonna make you) howl, David/Angel (18+) by @romirola

>:3 Romi's work is gorgeous, and I recommend all of her fics, but THIS FIC. Angel pampers David, and it is GORGEOUS.

- Halley's comet, Elliot/Sunshine (no Tumblr)

GORGEOUS. There are not enough Elliot/Sunshine fics!!! Elliot asks sunshine for 7 days to prove that he is a dream walker.

- California nights, Milo/Sweetheart (18+) by @thee-morrigan

Again, I love Katie's writing, and this is no exception. DELICIOUS 😚💖💖

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #rec list #Redacted recs #gods this is long hahahah #one fic per author omg

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bebe-tatsu · 2 months

Text

Fic/Fanart rec

Promoting some of my dearest friend’s recent works:

✿༺ 𝐹𝒜𝒩𝐹𝐼𝒞𝒯𝐼𝒪𝒩 ༻✿

First is a super late SaiTatsu fic recommendation from some of my dearest’s friends(Cato, Stardust) in the fandom. They organized a Christmas fic with some of the most talented authors/writers in the industry. It was a wonderful read. Christmas Meaning - SaiTatsu authors, et al. 🔞🔞 (Psybuki/SaiTatsu) If you have time please leave a review on fanfic and Ao3

My friend’s Stardust’s debut on ff.net. 🔞🔞 Please check her author page up in fan fiction. Bringing you delicious Psybuki and SaiTatsu reads.

Another author rec is possibly one of the most innocent and wholesome SaiTatsu cat to ever been born in this universe Cato and his new fics, Peace and Starstruck (Valentine’s special) (Wholesome/ SFW)

꧁༺ 𝓕𝓐𝓝𝓐𝓡𝓣 ༻꧂ @cleanchip will always be my top 1 favorite SaiTatsu artist but some of the new SaiTatsu artist have also been popping off on Twitter.

Please give them a follow: 1. Kymedi (wholesome, SFW) 2. Fair6805 🔞🔞🔞🔞 3. KylerMark4 - creator of beanie tatsu (wholesome, SFW)

#one punch man #saitatsu #tatsumaki #saitama #saitamaxtatsumaki #psybuki #fubuki #psykos #psykos x fubuki #fic rec #opm

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springlibrary · 1 year

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Fic & Writer Recommendations Jan 2023

I know I said I will be doing this quarterly but I just couldn't help myself.

Listed below are writers I am a fan of and fics I have been reading and loving for the month of January (well, some December too). Some are dark and some light but what they do have in common is that they were created by such talented people.

As usual, I'll be categorizing them as Dark, Grey, and Non-Dark. But I am now adding a new category; writers.

Writers

@darkficsyouneveraskedfor - There really isn't anything that they release that I don't like. Their stories vary in darkness and it's always such a treat to read. My favorite so far is Unexpected and its prequel, Unsolicited, and I think you guys should check it out.

@straywords - Their fics are just *chef's kiss*. I've read a couple of them already and they are just such beautiful pieces. I have yet to dive deeper into their masterlist but so far, In The Mountains and Bound Then and Forever are my current faves.

Dark Fics

Corruption (Lee Bodecker x Reader) by @sweeterthanthis

Doppelgänger (Ransom Drysdale x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader) by @boxofbonesfic Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why.

Worthy (Thor x Reader) by @michelleleewise Summary: After your recent breakup your self-esteem is at an all-time low, so you take your friend's advice and seek professional help, not knowing what may lie ahead.

It will come back (Old God!Lee Bodecker x Reader) by @slyyywriting Summary: “Don't let it in with no intention to keep it. Jesus Christ, don't be kind to it. Honey, don't feed it. It will come back.” -Hozier, It Will Come Back

Grey Fics

Spoils of War (Steve Rogers x Reader) by @navybrat817 Summary: Steve gets a reward for a job well done and wishes he could have been with you under different circumstances.

Non-Dark

Legend: 💚 - Smut / 💙 - Fluff / 💔 - Angst

Beautiful View from the Backseat (Thor x Stark!Reader) by @cockslutpadalecki 💚 Summary: Some mortal things, Thor can get used to. Except traffic jams.

Sweeter Than Apple Pie (DBF!Lee Bodecker x Reader) by @sweeterthanthis 💚 Summary: It's torture sitting through dinner with Lee. Especially when his idle hands can't keep from wandering.

Flavors (Loki x Reader) by @mochie85 💚 Summary: You spend the night testing out new flavors with your god of mischief.

Give these writers and their fics some lovin’ and don’t forget to reblog if you enjoyed their work. Likes are nothing but reblogs are everything. Also, feedback is key! Enjoy! 💖

#fic recommendation #beanie's fic recommendations #fanfic recommendation #lee bodecker #thor #steve rogers #loki #lloyd hansen #ransom drysdale #lee bodecker x reader #thor x reader #loki x reader #steve rogers x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #dark fics #smut fics

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agustdiv1ne · 2 years

Note

Do you have any recommends for any txt or bts smut fics? ^_^

YES I DO and i have A Lot so prepare thyself (also all of these contain smut in some form so minors dni!)

♡ - personal favorites

☆ namjoon

the interpretation of dreams by @ppersonna

ensnared by @jamaisjoons

unwind by @wwilloww

castaways by @rmnamjoons

pheromones by @rmnamjoons

boiling point by @btsiguess

motherlode by @namfine ♡

welcome to seoul land by @untaemedqueen

the pros and cons of falling in love by @moonscriptsx

yeouiju by minsang (on ao3) ♡

☆ seokjin

a lullaby on canvas by @jincherie

bobsy-die by @/jincherie

in the mood by @kinktae

☆ yoongi

take one by @/untaemedqueen

inheritance by @/jincherie

prod. suga by @aquagustd

boseong breakfast by @honeymoonjin ♡

runaway train by @jamaisstae

heavy sugar by @/kinktae

the cockpile: love birds by @httpjeon

off the deep end by @boymeetsweevil

eargasm by @lavishedinjimin

no face by @seokoloqy

tip of the iceberg by @gukslut

sugar? yes, please by @btsfiles

breakfast in bed by @joonbird ♡

☆ hoseok

hot rod by @/kinktae

book of beasts: hypothermia by @/httpjeon ♡

just between us by wwillow (on ao3)

☆ jimin

lovebug by @/httpjeon

otherworldly by @sinning-on-a-sunday ♡

blue blood by @/joonbird

little girl by @lavishedinjimin

☆ taehyung

a human touch by @snackhobi

waterloo by @/kinktae ♡

tear you apart by @bratkook

1-800-music-street by @/httpjeon

hot bot: gift by @/httpjeon

warm by @/httpjeon

sehebon by @/httpjeon ♡

upstream colour by @/honeymoonjin ♡

seven seas by @readyplayerhobi ♡

☆ jungkook

how many by @yoon-kooks

crema by @inkedtae

heajix by @/httpjeon ♡

graceful gods by @/untaemedqueen ♡

i don't mind by @/bratkook

inkling by @gguksgalaxy

i heard a rumor by @taeshobipop

concrete king by @/bratkook ♡

a well-oiled machine by @/jincherie

wanted by @/jincherie ♡

under the bridge by @/jincherie

quiet rides by @/inkedtae

bring the pain by @/inkedtae

late fee by @1kook ♡

baecation by @/1kook

the cockpile: try out by @/httpjeon

scream by @tatertotthethot (posted to @yandere-society)

satan on the strip by @noir0neko

hot bot by @/httpjeon

welcome to the underworld by spookitokki (on ao3) ♡

simply.cute97 by @/httpjeon

vaunt by @yminie

pure female pleasure by @/1kook

☆ multi-member

oh, little red by @/jincherie (yoonmin x reader)

boogie business by @/inkedtae (taegi x reader)

tattooed two by @/httpjeon (taekook x reader) ♡

blacklisted by @/httpjeon (taekook x reader) ♡

bunny blues by @/jincherie (yoonkook x reader) ♡

break the ice by minlouvre (on ao3, jikook x reader)

the hills by minlouvre (on ao3, sope x reader) ♡

our birthday girl by @joonie-beanie (namkook x reader)

the doms next door by @tatertotthethot (taekook x reader) ♡

sweeter than sweet by gimmesumsuga (on ao3, ot7 x reader)

n now for txt!

☆ soobin

nervous by @0x11s

☆ yeonjun

our little secret by @bakubae

catgirls are ruining my life! by @heartthrobchoi

house next to mine by @okayau ♡

☆ beomgyu

better by @/0×11s

☆ multi-member

i want to watch by @lovesickchoi (yeonbin x reader)

#probably going to add more when i get time but i just went back to college so we'll have to see 😭#asks #anon #fic recs

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stealanity · 7 months

Text

post snippets from 3 wips and 3 published fics,

( thank you cece @userjuyo, & moni @zzoguri for tagging me, and sorry.. for the late.. )

3 published fics :

1. summer is not over, park jongseong

pretty sure i already talked about this one, it's not a long fic or anything, but i wrote it with a particular state of mind and i recommend that you take a good look at the warnings before reading it, it's not a bright story.. but anyway, it's here because this writing have a special place in my heart 🤍

2. cold hands, lee juyeon

okay i don't know why i only talk about angst here but listen : i was in my all of us are dead period and i really needed to write something about it. with my favorite boyz. and unfortunately, juyeon was the victim. but i promise it's good! heartbreaking, but good..!

3. yarrow, choi chanhee

this is from my discontinued serie “ sorry, for breaking your heart ” which consisted of letters that y/n wrote to all the boys she loved in her life before she died. and i think chanhee was her first love? can't remember honestly, and i'm quite sad maybe one day i'll write this series again, who knows?

3 wips :

1. rain of memories, eric sohn

okay so, this one is one of my countless entries in a collab created by yena, which unfortunately was cancelled, but which i decided to write anyway. i really like the plot.. and i hope to have the faith to finish it one day so that other people can read it..!

2. partners in crime, lee hyunjae & lee juyeon

okay so, this one is probably one of my longest writing, even if i'm having trouble finishing it. it's mainly angst and full of trauma/drama, but i swear it's cool to read and i hope that one day i'll have written it all down 👌🏻

3. cinderella's dead, yang jungwon & park jongseong

okay so, my enhypen' smau which is currently on hiatus but which i'm increasingly keen to continue. this is a snippet from chapter 4, but which i still haven't published.. what a shame-

i can't remember who's already been tagged but i'm pretty sure i haven't seen @invuwrld, @lost-leopard-beanie, @heemingyu, @enluv, @iwonzz, @kimsohn do it yet so.. correct me if i'm wrong 😭

#⠀𖤐 — twinkle twinkle let's just talk !#⠀𖤐 — we can have fun on my blog !

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allsassnoclass · 2 months

Note

Are there any good 5SOS friendship fics?

the answer is definitely yes! we have fantastic writers in this fandom, so there are great friendship fics here. i can compile a list based on previous times i've answered this question, but i haven't been reading much 5sos fic for the past year and friendship fics have never been my favorite type of fic.

to find friendship fics on ao3, search for any of the pairings with a & sign instead of a / (example: Michael Clifford & Luke Hemmings). You can filter out the romantic pairings by excluding pairings with a / on the filters bar. this is a great way to find friendship fics, especially because asking me is only going to get the fics i'm aware of in my small circle here on tumblr, whereas filtering on ao3 will help you find a whole lot more!

now on to my recs:

with open hearts and open eyes by @lifewasradical: rated G, ot4 friendship, 2k. very highly recommend this one i love it a lot

If he closes his eyes, Luke thinks he can almost believe that he’s 16 again, that they’re in Australia and they’re just starting out, thrumming with energy and excitement and glee that still lingers in their bones if they look hard enough. Some of that childlike wonder bleeds through the moment, Luke’s sure of it, as the others all turn onto their stomachs too. Their outlines are barely able to be seen through the darkness, but Luke would know the contours of the other guys even if he went blind.

If I Can Dream Long Enough by @4thbrighteststar: rated G, ot4 friendship, 2k.

Luke leans back, closes his eyes and lets the setting sun wash over his face, lets his fingers find a rhythm of their own. Third fret, fifth string. Tenth fret - his fingers hop up and down the guitar. Seventh fret. Fifth fret - no, keep the riff. He loses himself in it, until the wind and the birds and the distant, roaring cars fall silent in the face of the music he’s making by himself for the first time in eternity.

(An ode to making music in the toughest of times.)

am i broken (are you the saviour) by jbhmalum, rated T, malum friendship, 4k

He should do something. Maybe take a deep breath, in and out. Maybe turn on the bedside lamp. Maybe go lie down on the cold bathroom floor. Maybe bury himself under Calum’s covers and cuddle up to him; it probably wouldn’t even wake Calum, and Michael would get the comfort he needs.

Michael hears something he didn’t want to and has a hard time dealing with it.

dearly depressed and brokenhearted (i’d like to let you know that boys cry too) by @clumsyclifford: rated T, muke friendship, 2k

Michael returns. He’s wearing a jacket and a beanie and there’s a blanket from off their couch in his hands.

“Michael,” Luke says.

“Please,” Michael says. “I’m obviously not going to convince you to come inside, but I don’t want you to freeze.” He takes the steps, footsteps falling where Luke’s had, and comes close enough to Luke that when he offers up the blanket, Luke reaches out and takes it. “I know you don’t wear jackets,” Michael explains.

(It’s cold and rainy out. Luke goes for a walk.)

crack a smile, stay a while (am i holding for applause?) by @clumsyclifford: rated T, cashton friendship (but the other two are there as well), 1k

Glancing down at Ashton, Michael adds, “What’s with him?”

“He’s convinced he’s going to do terribly and publicly humiliate himself,” Calum says, rolling his eyes again for good measure.

“No, you’ll be great,” Michael says brightly. “Calum’s always saying how you’re the most talented person in his music whatever class.”

“Calum’s stupid and wrong,” floats Ashton’s voice from somewhere underneath the seat.

no love sincerer (than the love of food) by TempestRising: rated G, ot4 friendship, 4k

5 times One Direction fed 5 Seconds of Summer / 1 time One Direction needed feeding.

melancholy & honey by @igarbagecannoteven: rated G, malum friendship, 500 words, they’re bees (yes you read that right)

Michael’s only been resting there for a minute when he hears a familiar hum approaching him from behind. He doesn’t have to turn his head to know it’s Calum.

glitter by @igarbagecannoteven: rated G, cake friendship

Calum has no idea how Luke is able to infect all of their tour gear with glitter so completely.

below are a collection of friendship fics that I personally have not read, but I’ve read other works by the writers so I feel okay recommending them

Jess @daydadahlias has written so many friendship fics that I have heard great things about!!!

Torn Up (ot4 friendship, 8k)

Tailspin (cashton friendship, warning for alcohol/smoking, 5k)

Lightweight (ot4 friendship, warning for heavy alcohol, non-consensual kissing, 5k)

Tender (mashton friendship, 3k)

Superbloom (cashton friendship, warning for discussions of Skinny Skinny, 3k)

Movie Night (lashton friendship, 3k)

Shoebox (lashton friendship, 3k)

The Craft Club series (outside pov of ot4 friendship, but only Ashton appears in most of the installments. I've heard a lot of really fun things about this series, so while it isn't necessarily a heavy friendship focus I still recommend!)

from Bella @clumsyclifford

you should know i’ll be there for you (lashton friendship, 2k)

maybe this is just as good as it gets (cake friendship, 2k)

our best years are yet to come (thanks for choosing me) (cashton friendship, 1k)

from @lifewasradical

have my back (yeah, everyday) (malum friendship, 3k)

so much older (lashton friendship, 2k)

then if I may self-rec:

takeoff by me: rated G, mashton friendship, 1k

Sweater Weather by me: rated G, malum friendship or pre-slash, 1k

Tornado Warning by me: rated T, ot4 friendship, 2k

wedding vows by me: rated T, malum friendship, background roylum and mystal 5k

if anyone else has friendship fics they want to recommend feel free to add on!

#ask #anon #fic rec #yeah i haven't been reading 5sos fic for over a year really #and friendship fics were never my forte so i'm not sure why i keep getting this question #as this is the 4th time i've been asked for friendship fic recs???? and it's mostly always the same fics on my list because i don't really #read them #i really should get back into reading 5sos fic i have so many on my tbr list #i think i'm getting back into the mindset yknow. getting closer to that headspace #anyway hope this helps anon!

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transizzyhands · 1 year

Text

hey look it's the first 2,000 words or so of this post-El Camino fic ive been working on

After 26 years in the desert, the first big adjustment was coping with the cold. Sure, it got cold in New Mexico, but it was nothing compared to Alaska's bitter freezes. Back when Alaska was just an idea in his head, he thought he could handle it. Oversized hoodies and beanies pulled low over his ears had been his wardrobe since he was a teenager, after all—they should have served him well up north.

Not so much. Less than a week after he arrived, after a night of shivering himself awake next to the wood stove, he got into the truck and headed into town.

It was a small town, vastly different from Albuquerque's busy streets and sprawling neighborhoods. Most of the vehicles around here were old trucks and Jeeps, bodies half-rusted away, with the occasional Subaru or SUV parked along the street. Small cars didn't fare well in the snow. Before the next big snowfall, he'd have to get chains. First things first, though: more layers.

A storefront called SNOWBUSTER'S EMPORIUM caught his eye. In the windows, a headless mannequin modeled a fur-lined parka and matching trousers, with a scarf around its neck and sturdy boots. He cut the engine halfway down the street and headed inside.

The bell over the door rang out, punctuating the classic rock playing softly over hidden speakers. “Hey, Joe!” came a woman's voice, but he couldn't see anyone.

“Uh. Not Joe. Sorry,” he said.

A head poked up from behind a rack of sweaters. “Oh! Nope, definitely not.” The woman, dark-haired and dark-eyed, shot him a mischievous grin. “Sorry about that.” She stepped out from behind the rack and approached him. “I'm Ness. New in Haines?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, let me know if I can help you find anything, okay?” She looked friendly enough, in her early forties with her dark hair in twin braids and a light-green flannel shirt buttoned high. “Passing through or staying?”

“Haven't decided,” he said. That, at least, wasn't a lie.

“This is a nice town. We always welcome a friendly face. How long have you been here?”

“Few days.”

“How do you like it so far?” As Ness spoke, she moved around the store, straightening displays or re-folding scarves.

“Not bad. A little cold at night.”

She hummed in agreement. “Staying warm at night is tricky. I always recommend getting a dog for that. But if you're allergic to dogs or you're not interested in getting one, there's always long johns! Back here.”

After a brief hesitation, he followed her to the back of the store and she gestured to a rickety shelf stacked with folded long johns. “Take a look back here, and if you don't find something you like, we can always special order something for you. It'll take a couple weeks to get in, but it's worth it. Welcome to town.” She stuck out her hand.

He shook it. “Thanks. Lucas,” he added.

Her smile widened. “Nice to meet you, Lucas. If you need me, I'll be up at the register. Just holler.” She went back to the front, leaving him to stare at the woolen clothing in silence.

But his attention just shifted right back to the shelves. They were splintering, half-eaten away, and looked like they were a rough sneeze away from falling apart. Flimsy plywood held together with wood glue and prayers. Before he could stop himself, he called over, “Where'd you get these shelves?”

Ness propped herself up on her elbows, leaning against the front case. “Why?”

“Hope you didn't pay too much for 'em, or I'd say you got ripped off.”

An eyebrow went up along with a small smile. “And how much would be too much?”

He scanned the rest of the store, eyeing the shelves in the walls. “Fifty bucks.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah.” A horrible thought struck him. “You didn't make 'em yourself, did you?”

“No, I didn't make them.”

“Oh. Okay.” His heart rate started to return to normal.

“My brother did,” Ness finished as the bell above the door chimed out again.

“Your brother did what?” asked the man who'd pushed open the door. He wasn't particularly tall, maybe three inches taller than him, but his wide build, grown-out beard, and intense stare all immediately indicated that he was not someone to be messed with.

“Apparently, my brother is a piss-poor carpenter.”

“No, wait—that's not what I said,” he protested, silently kicking himself. He'd been in town less than a week, in this store less than five minutes, and he was already making an ass of himself. How the fuck was he supposed to keep himself out of trouble when he couldn't last a day with regular people?

“Lucas, this is Joe, my brother. We own the store.”

“I'm... sorry,” he mumbled, starting to skirt around the edge of the store toward the other door. His first, panicked reaction was to go for the gun in his waistband—the gun he didn't have on him. “I have this bad habit, I talk too much—look, I'll just leave and I won't bother you again.”

“That one doesn't open,” Joe said, his beard twitching.

“Ah.” He couldn't get a read on Joe's expression, but he didn't want to look too closely at him, either. “Are you gonna let me go?”

The siblings exchanged a look and then Joe stepped away from the door.

He took the opening presented and bolted before they could change their minds.

The snow crunched under his stiff boots, heavier on his feet than he was used to. Discomfort came from unexpected angles, from the cold against his scalp and the tug of still-healing scars when he talked, to tight new boots that hadn't broken in yet and an ache that went bone-deep when he bent his left knee. He focused on that to keep from panicking, focused on the key digging into his palm as he finally drew level with the truck.

The engine hadn't cooled much, so the air that blasted him was still warm. He fumbled through his unfamiliar pockets until he found his cigarettes and lighter. Maybe one day he'd quit, but right now, he didn't care. There was no guarantee he'd even make it to 30 anyway.

He needed a drink to calm himself down, but the idea of drinking alone after spending the better part of a year alone was enough to drive him crazy on its own. So going to a bar was the best option.

Fortunately, he didn't have to drive far. Barely a block away, he pulled into a practically-empty parking lot and went inside. It wasn't the sleaziest dive he'd been to, but it was up there. The dim lighting inside obscured anything farther than ten feet away. In some dark corner, only the quiet click of pool balls cracking together indicated a game of billiards. Despite the NO SMOKING sign behind the bar, an old-timer sat at a far table with a fat cigar burning. He went up to the bar, vacant aside from one bleary-eyed patron, and flagged down the bartender. “Jack and Coke.”

“ID.”

He slid his license across the bar top. The bartender's eyes scanned the name, the photo, the birthdate. “Sure thing, Mr. Driscoll. Five bucks.” She slid it back to him.

“Isn't it ten?” he asked, pointing to the prices listed above the bar.

“Happy Hour started at four. Jeez,” the bartender added. “Never heard a guy complain about a cheap drink before.” She pulled out a glass and started pouring, then nodded at someone over his head.

Before he could turn around to look, another body was in his space, sliding onto the stool next to his. “Just put it on my tab, Ruthie.”

“Sure thing. Anything for you? Get you your usual?”

“Nah, I'll just be a minute.” Leather creaked as weight shifted. “Never did get a chance to properly make your acquaintance. Joseph Parker. Everyone calls me Joe. Nella said you're Lucas?”

He swallowed and forced himself to look at Joe. “Yeah. Luke is good too.” It brought Luke Skywalker to mind. Badger and Skinny Pete were Trekkies if anything, but he'd always preferred Star Wars.

“Luke.” It looked like Joe was grinning, but it was hard to tell for sure.

“Yeah. Luke. My last name's Driscoll, though. Not anything cool, like Skywalker.”

Joe laughed, a big and genuine laugh, and Luke took a swig of his Jack and Coke to hide his sigh of relief.

“So, like... what are you doing here? You didn't follow me here just to buy me a drink, did you?”

Joe nodded slowly and lightly tapped his pinkie and ring fingers on the slick wood of the bar top. “You're right. I just wanted to—look, are you okay? When you left the store, you looked like you were about to pass out.”

“Huh?”

“What you said? 'You gonna let me go?' You were shaking like a Chihuahua.”

“But your sister said—”

Joe waved dismissively. “Ness was messing with me, that's all. That's what she does. I know those shelves're garbage. They've been like that for ten years. We fight about them all the time.”

“So why don't you just replace them?”

“You'll have to ask her that. Sometimes it feels like the only way they'll get fixed is if someone does it overnight.” He propped himself by his elbow. “Bah, it's not that important. Listen, there's no hard feelings, Luke. You gave a fair and moreover honest assessment of my work. It don't bother me any. Besides, if you keep talking to Ness about it, you might be able to help me convince her to replace them.” Joe got to his feet and held out his hand. “Come on back sometime and we'll take care of you.”

He shook Joe's hand. “Yeah, for sure. I'll be back.”

“Cool. See you around, Luke.” He stepped away, his hand lingering a fraction of a second longer in Luke's, and Luke swore his heart missed a beat but by the time he processed it, Joe was out the door.

He swirled his drink for a moment and then took another swig, grimacing slightly at the burning tang of whiskey.

“Well, since Joe's paying, want another?” Ruthie asked.

“He's really not gonna kick my ass?”

“Who, Joe? He's a big cuddly kitty-cat. Besides, I wouldn't offer if it was gonna be a problem. So how 'bout it?”

He stared into the glass for a few seconds and then finished it off. “Yeah, sure.”

“Great.” She mixed up another and swapped out the glasses. “Here. So, I'm gathering that you're new around Haines. Makes sense, I've never seen you before. You hanging around?”

“Haven't decided. I haven't unpacked yet, if that's what you mean.”

“Well, why not?”

“I don't know.”

“Think you could stay for, say, a month?”

That wasn't what he expected. “For what?”

“Well, if I'm being honest, it's a little boring. Everyone knows everyone. Kind of a relief to get some fresh blood in here.”

Something about that comment put him on-edge. “You're not... uh, vampires, are you?”

Ruthie laughed so hard she cried. Neither of the other two bar patrons even looked over at them.

“I'm guessing that means no.”

Her giggles slowly subsiding, she wiped her eyes with the back of her wrists. “No, no vampires in this town that I know of.”

“Werewolves?”

Ruthie looked like she was going to lose it again. “Luke, I need your help to get Joe a date. This isn't a monster movie. Not to imply the two are mutually exclusive or anything.”

“Why do you need my help?”

“Because you're exciting, you're bright, shiny, and new, and you're probably looking for new friends of your own anyway, right? So it's a win-win.”

“Sure. So what's your angle in this?”

“What makes you think I have one?”

“Just seems a little weird, you know? Asking a stranger for help setting up your friend.”

“What? Come on, I bet you're a great wingman. But listen, hey. He's a good guy. He just needs to shake it up a bit. Stranger from out of town sounds like the perfect way to do that. But, hey, if you're not interested, no problem.”

There was only one right answer to this, and the wrong answer felt dangerous. But there was a tug in his chest, something telling him to stay. So he compromised. “I'll think about it, okay?”

Ruthie nodded appreciatively. “That's more than I can rightly ask a stranger.”

#brba fanfiction #jesse pinkman #el camino spoilers

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mochidreambubble · 11 months

Text

From Golden Grove, Love Sunset Bird

[ongoing fic]

Ao3 link

Chapters on Tumblr ~ 1 2 3 4 (you're here!)

previous - next (WIP)

{Baxter doesn't know it yet, but when he's back from his dance circuit, he owes you the biggest milkshake.}

[I left a long note on the previous chapter so it may be worth looking through that if you'd like to know about how this fic may be going on forward?

Also chapter title will say step ‘1.2’ because this happens the next year after Step 1. A short interlude of a chapter if anything. Chapter title makes sense in context, I promise.]

Out of all the seasons, you can say for sure you like summer the least . No amount of pictures or pretty postcards of Sunset Bird in this season would deter you from that.

It was your first summer in your new home though, so that was something. Summer, when you lived in the city meant trips to the pool sometimes, and small carnivals set up in the parks. You mainly got dropped off at the library or at dozens of art or drama week-long day camps before Mama had to make a mad dash to work.

At least things were going to be pretty different this summer. You even had a camping trip with the Murrays coming up soon! A little weird to be spending summer break with a teacher, as both Tamarack and even Qiu would remind you, but it was going to be so much fun! You had your school activities too, but you were mainly looking forward to all the sleepovers and adventures your two friends promised to do.

Well, it wasn’t really gonna be different from what you three usually did, but summer break just made it extra special. You knew that all three of you would still prefer the season that came after, but it's not like it could be autumn all year round after all.

As you think of the two of them, the fact that they weren’t with you made itself known even harder. Qiu had promised to hang with Darren and Tamarack had left a note for you that she was helping out Granny today. Mama still had work to do, and with no activities on your list, you decided it was time to get some new postcards and stationery. Maybe some stickers too! Anything to distract that you were by yourself today…

You liked the cosy post office of Golden Grove, and you’ve been there enough times since you moved in that the people working there knew your name. They even knew you were sending letters to your pen pal!

You were skipping to your destination when you spotted Mr B.A.W, looking at a window display of the bookstore. You can’t say for sure if Baxter liked you. He was always really nice, and he was never mean to you or Tamarack, but it felt different from how he treated the original members of the Boys Club.

Baxter recently dyed his hair, the dark grey now unmistakable to be black. He was still dressed in muted tones, just like the first day you’ve met him. You haven’t seen him in anything as eye-catching - blue beanie aside.

He didn’t seem to notice as you walked closer, so you stand on the tippy toes and whispered “Hey Baxter, watcha doin’?”

If you caught him by surprise, you couldn’t tell. He simply smiled and turned to you. “Simply browsing the new books that came in. Hello to you too.”

You on the other hand, liked him quite a bit. You both had the same two favourite colours and Baxter always had the best taste in books. He had recommended quite a list when you asked and enjoyed them thoroughly.

You bounce back and forth from your toes to the back of your foot, swinging as you look at the window display too. “I’m surprised you aren’t hanging out with Autumn and Darren today.”

Baxter gives a small snort and sighs. “I’m afraid biking with the two of them right now would not be the best of ideas, considering the dance circuit is around the corner.”

Oh right, Autumn had mentioned something about that too, that Baxter was going to be away for a little while. “Right, around California and some other places nearby, right? Make sure to bring back snacks for us.”

“If I can manage,” he simply shrugs.

“You don’t sound very excited.”

“Do I? Hm, it’s simply another round of contests, so it’s not as if I’m travelling to play.”

“Boo,” you stick your tongue out at him. “Where’s your sense of adventure, Baxter? C’mon, think about it for a bit! Dancing out of town, new places to be!”

You clasp your hands in a sudden thought. “Oh, oh!” You felt like glitter and starlight as you pictured it. “What if you, like a mysterious stranger, sweep someone off their feet and you start some type of fairy tale?”

He raises a brow, one side of his mouth upturned. “I had forgotten for a moment that you’re quite fond of such romantic ideals.”

“I’m serious Baxter! You fit the look of a prince, you know?”

He snorts again. “Mm, I suppose I do have the family fortune for it.”

“Not only that silly! You dance, you’re charming. Whose to say you won’t be someone’s Prince Charming, hm?”

A car honks catches both of your attention before he could respond. It was one of the Ward’s family car. Baxter looks back at you apologetically.

“It may not be midnight, but it seems my pumpkin calls, fair friend,” he gives you a bow and you laugh, returning it in kind. “See you when I get back.”

He turns to enter the car as you call out. “You owe me a milkshake or something if I’m right! You’re totally gonna meet someone!”

Your Mama wasn’t back yet, so you went up to your room to unceremoniously dump your shopping bag into your bed. You’re half tempted to call your Mermaid pal, but you weren’t sure if they’d be home. Their summer always seemed to be filled with activity, more so since Cove arrived.

Calling them up seemed to be a more common thing between the two of you these days, but that didn’t mean you stopped sending them things. There was just something different about a letter, postcard or package. It was nice when you got to hear their voice for the first time, and Cove was there too!

Last time you managed to check in with your Sunset Birdies, they had just returned from a short road trip. Apparently, some silly loft-sharing shenanigans and pretty nature walks were in the mix. You were promised pictures of trees from said walk.

“Mine won’t look at good as yours but you asked for them, so no complaining!” Your Mermaid friend had always insisted the pictures from you were always nicer somehow.

Said letter had yet to arrive, sadly. Your own letter was sitting on your desk, still blank. Not much had happened on your break, mostly the same ol` same ol`. It’s funny you can say that when it hadn’t even been a full year in Golden Grove, but Tamarack and Qiu had managed to make a stable rhythm in most of your day-to-day.

You ponder for a moment, wondering if you should write about your short encounter with Baxter. You’ve never really mentioned him to your pen pal at all. You’ve written about Darren a few times though. With a shake, you decide against it. It be kind of out of the blue to start talking about your elusive kind-of a friend. Pity, as Baxter would be in California for a short bit too. You’re not sure when would your letter arrive anyway, and you don’t know when and where exactly Baxter would be during the dance circuit.

You think it be kind of funny if the two of them met by chance though. But what even were the chances of that happening anyways?

[last note from me: sweats in: look this was gonna be a Cove/OL1MC fic but since the last time I wrote this fic at all like… Uh…. A lot of Baxter related stuff happen and uhhHHHHH so Maybe it will also Baxter/OL1MC fic also. IDK, I haven’t added the Baxter ship tag on Ao3 yet-]

#our life beginnings & always #my fic #my writing #our life now and forever #From Golden Grove Love Sunset Bird fic #We're still friends even if we're miles apart fic series #baxter ward #it's kind of a Baxter chapter somehow lol #franky second #qiu and tamarack get mentioned only this chapter

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