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#wayv ten angst
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Lie with you | Ten Lee
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Pairing: ten x reader
Warnings: death, grieving, unprotected sex (wear protection pls), fingering, usage of petnames, skinny-dipping, illegal graffiti (not advised). Let me know if i forgot anything.
Word count: 4k
Genre: angst, smut, bit of fluff
18 +, minors dni
Sypnopsis: It’s been some time now since the love of his life left this world. But Ten still can’t get over you and he probably never will. He wants to see you again, hold you in his arms and show you how much he loves you. One day when he visits your grave, the chance of spending one more night with you might not be so impossible after all.
Note: chrysanthemums symbolize death and mourning.
An: if you read my work, you know that smut really isn’t something I do. So I was not expecting this story to take such a turn but it did because a friend of mine found out I write and well...long story short this is the result. It’s the very first time I’ve ever even attempted to write smut, so please bear with me. Feedback is greatly appreciated! I advise you not to read this if any of the warnings make you uncomfortable.
Ten's delicate fingers travel over the smooth stone, following the curves of the carvings that bear your name. He looks at you with tears in his eyes, as he does every time. In an attempt to remove the dust from the letters, he briskly wipes his hands across the surface. “I’m sorry, I haven’t visited in a while, my little star,” he whispers.
He lies on the ground next to the headstone, wiping his hands on his jeans. And a chill run down his spine from the coolness of the ground.
He notices the dazzling stars as he looks up at the pitch-black sky. The few clouds in the sky begin to break almost as if on cue, and then there you are, shining the brightest of all, his little star, softly dazzling upon him.
The cool night breeze brushes over his skin as he shuts his eyes and tilts his face up to the sky. His heart aches, and tears are starting to run down his cheeks.
-
He suddenly feels something along his skin, just like if someone was tickling him. His eyes flutter open, revealing…you. with a single white chrysanthemum in your hand and a gentle smile on your face. rubbing it lightly across his cheek. Ten eyes widen as he sees you and for a brief moment his breath catches in his throat.
"Y-Y/N." He mutters in shock.
You carefully wipe his tears away as you keep looking into his eyes with a gentle smile. “Don’t cry…we’ll be alright” you tell him.
He holds your hand tightly; his hand feeling warm against your own. Then he pulls you closer and wraps his arms around your body. Still not believing you’re in front of him,
“you’re really here," he breathes out with a trembling voice. You can hear his heartbeat so loudly and clearly, as if his heart only just started beating because of you.
You run your fingers through his dark locks. It felt the same as always, and yet it felt so different to all the other times you’ve done it before. You can hear him sighing against you, clearly enjoying your touch. You both stay like this for a while. You don’t even know how much time goes by, nor do you care. However, everything feels familiar and peaceful, just like you've returned home.
You look up at Ten and see him looking back at you already. His gaze holds so much love for you but also immense pain. So much so, that you can feel your own heart crumbling down by look in his stunning eyes. His whole face had changed since the last time you saw him. The suffering had left its marks, taking away the glow that was once present. And you knew it was because of you.
Cupping his face in your hands, you give him a soft kiss. So gently, as if he’d break if you were any harsher. Ten closes his eyes and kisses back. It only lasts for a few seconds, but it was enough to hold the cracks of your souls together for now.
“Shall we head out of here?” you ask him as you climb to your feet and pull him along. He's still holding your hand, fingers entwined, his thumb softly stroking your skin, and he gives you a nod.
With a mischievous grin on your lips, you sprint back to your car together. You both know exactly what the other is thinking about since you’ve done it countless of times before. A curt nod followed by the engine starting, and you're driving down the highway before you even know it.
With your windows down and the music blasting through the speakers. Both of your voices are overtaking the song as you scream at the top of your lungs. You can tell the few cars that are passing by are giving you looks but you couldn’t care less.
“Do you have the goods with you?” Ten asks even though he already knows your answer. “Would I ever not have the goods?”, you answer and hear him chuckle beside you.
Not too much later, you reach your destination, hop out the window, and open the trunk. Your usual assortment of spray bottles is all spread out, and you shoot Ten a playful look that asks him why he’d ever doubt you. You both take the bottles with you and step into the abandoned factory at the edge of town. Climbing up the ladder and entering the building through a broken window. Graffiti covered the walls, shattered glass was strewn all over the place, and dust was floating around the space like snow in a snow globe. It was perfect. Since it was your little secret spot.
A wave of nostalgia hits the both of you as you walk past all of the murals you have compiled throughout the years. On the enormous wall were the love doves that represented the beginning of your relationship that you’d painted on your first date. And as you went deeper into the building, all of your memories seemed to be displayed like you’re walking through a museum about your own love story. The old place appeared more alive thanks to the vibrant walls than when the space was still in use.
Entering the final, hardly standing room on the rooftop, you lay out your stuff and start your final piece. The location was illuminated by the distant town lights and the flashes from your phones. You both work quickly yet carefully. The air feels thick with paint fumes and perhaps something else too.
You both decide to inscribe your initials within a heart-shaped graffiti piece tonight. It was simple, especially compared to your usual extravagant work the two of you'd do. Yet the simplicity also held a lot of meaning, as it marked the very end of your journey. It seemed as though you were bidding your work of art adieu and saying, "Let's meet again sometime."
Ten keeps stealing glances at you whilst you work, and he swears that every time he looks at you, the butterflies explode more than the last time. You looked as gorgeous as ever, as if no time had passed since you last saw each other. He lets his eyes follow your movements, as he can’t take his eyes off of you. He stands behind you when you are completing the last details of your joint project. And his body feels hot against your own, you can feel his lips brush your neck as he whispers in your ear, “So beautiful…”, causing you to shudder.
"Ten…" you exhale, as his hands begin to explore more of your body and his lips start kissing your skin. However, he stops when he hears sirens in the distance. He dashes to peer out of the opening that served as a window.
"Shit, they're heading this way," he lets you know as he rushes back to get you and escapes. You both notice the red and blue lights getting closer as you sprint back to the car. "Give me the keys, I know a spot," he says but before you can do that the police catch up quicker than you both expect, so you duck behind some bushes and pray that they haven't noticed you yet. And just as if your prayer is answered, they drive past you.
“Come on” Ten says, and you both run away, not even bothering to take the car now. You turn around slightly and look up at the building to take a last glance at the ‘TEN + Y/N’ mural you left behind. Was it a bit childish? Yes. Did you care? Absolutely not. Because it was your final recollection of each other.
After walking for a few blocks, you burst out laughing. "It's unbelievable that we were able to escape with this." "I was so sure they had us this time," you scream as the thrill of adrenaline shoots through you. Ten laughs along with you, “I know right? If they came even a second earlier, we’d be done for.”
The walk is filled with more laughter and a whole lot of reminiscing about the past. And although you two are beaming, each step you take still feels heavier than the last, you both feel it but none of you brings it up, not wanting to add to each other’s pain.
The air feels chilly as you make your way down to the secluded lake, Ten had taken you to. It was surrounded by trees, and it looked like it was taken straight out of a fairy tale. You look around mesmerized, “What is this place? It’s amazing,” you exclaim.“I’ve been wanting to take you here for a while now. I discovered it when I was driving around one time, and I’ve been coming back ever since. It should be all ours for tonight because nobody else is ever here at this hour either.”
He takes your hand, brings you up a little cliff, and asks you to close your eyes. You take a hesitant step forward, and he has his hands over your eyes. He tells you that you can look when you arrive at the edge, "Okay, we're here," and removes his hands to show you. You see the moonlight reflecting in the water as the lake flows by. The trees' leaves are softly rustling in the mild breeze, creating a soothing sound. You were in complete awe of the sight, which was only enhanced by the lights surrounding the area. “Oh my god…this is absolutely stunning…” you say still not over the view.
Ten chuckles besides you and you feel his arms sneak around your waist again. He looks at you instead of the scenery, “yeah…it’s absolutely stunning…” his eyes flicker to your lips and he leans in to kiss you. It’s filled with all of his love for you, and you can feel every emotion seep through. You both kiss for a few minutes until he pulls back.
“Now…are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he asks with a sly grin on his face. You look from him down to the water. “You’re kidding, right?” you say feeling nervous as you can tell exactly what he is thinking. The grin on Ten’s face only grows as he starts shaking his head. “ofcourse, I’m not kidding. Why? Are you scared?” he asks teasingly. You huff and cross your arms, pretending to be confident as you answer, "Not at all," but you can't help but swallow anxiously as you glance down at the water.
Ten gives you a comforting kiss on the head and giggles as he hugs you from behind. "If you really don't want it then we don't have to do it but I think you do want it," he states. "It's not like I don't want to…it's just so high up and- and what if there is something in the water?" You nervously ask. "Well, we won't know unless we give it a shot, won't we? And we’ll do it together like we always do, it will be ok.”
you nod slowly as you consider it. "Are we completely undressing?" you ask. Ten gives you a nod. "You are aware of the expression 'go big or go home', right? So, let's go big because we aren't going home." Despite laughing at what he said, you still agree.
You both quickly stripped off your clothes. And the thrill of seeing each other naked still made your hearts race even after being together for so long.
Ten's eyes follow every movement you make. You looked amazing to him; every inch of your skin was flawless. You feel your body heat up as he admired you and you can't help but glance at him too. His toned body and tattooed skin made your knees weak. You turn back to the water, trying to hide how flustered he makes you.
Grabbing his hand, you quickly run hand in hand towards the edge of the lake and dive in. The cool water envelopes your bodies immediately. And you swim around, splashing each other and laughing the whole time.
As you float on your backs, the silence of the night crept up on you pleasantly. Feeling completely content with each other's company, that’s filled with lingering gazes and rapidly beating hearts.
However, as you continued to swim, your innocent amusement soon evolved into something more passionate.
You swim closer and closer together, your bodies becoming entangled. The beautiful swaying of the water only fuelling your desire for one another.
Your kisses are deep and strong, and your hands freely move across each other's bodies. You had never felt so alive, so engulfed by one another.
His hands rest on your waist, and he moves closer to you, until you feel his chest press against yours. You felt yourself heating up, and the cold water appeared to affect you a lot less. Placing your arms around his neck and you close the distance until you are just inches away from each other. He notices how you’re biting down your lip and it only turns him on more.
"Let me do that for you," he says against your lips before kissing you deeply. It was more passionate than any other kiss, and you could feel your entire body tingle. His skin melted into yours, and your lips fit together flawlessly as if you were only made for each other. The kiss became more intense as you felt his tongue glide into your mouth and start moving against yours. His hands went down to your hips, and you let out a gasp as you felt him squeeze your butt.
Ten begins kissing down your neck and sucking on your skin, leaving a trail of red marks. Your breath becomes heavier the lower he goes. His wet tongue glides against your collarbones, making you shiver. His mouth travels down to your boobs, and you can feel his lips wrap around one of your nipples. You can't help but moan at the feeling as you grab onto his hair. Ten takes his time with your hard nipple, circling his tongue around and sucking hard, leaving you gasping for air.
"Does that feel good, baby?" he asks as he begins rolling your other nipple between his fingers. The way your back arches and the moan that escapes your mouth tells him enough. He switches hands and lets the other travel down your body, touching all the right places until he reaches your core. As he lets his fingers glide against you teasingly.
"Ten…please…" You beg for more of his touch. "Please, what?" he asks with a seductive smile, pressing his thumb on your clit.
"Please touch me," you pleaded. His smile widens, and he begins playing with your folds. His fingers are getting coated with your juices as he gently starts rubbing your clit. You let out a loud gasp and grab his shoulders whilst grinding against his hand. Wanting to feel more.
“I don’t think it’s the water that got you this wet,” he says with a smirk, clearly amused by how wet you already are when he has barely touched you.
You let out a small whimper as you try to press yourself more onto his fingers, knowing he is still teasing you by not giving in completely. "Do you want more?" he whispers to you. You nod at him, but he only chuckles, "You have to use your words, darling. Tell me what you want, and I will give it all to you.
"I need your fingers inside of me," you breathe out. His eyes darken and he kisses you again, pushing a finger deep inside. The way you moan into the kiss tells him you didn't expect him to give in so quickly, which only makes him smirk more.
Ten raises your thigh and wraps your leg around his waist with one hand, as he starts to slowly push his finger in and out of your pussy. “You’re so fucking tight, sweetheart,” he tells you, picking up the pace. The feeling of his cold metal rings against your core, only adds to your pleasure.
"Fu-uck," you whimper as he circles your clit with his thumb. You're dripping down his hand, and you can feel your walls tighten around his digits. "Hmm, so wet for me," he hums, adding another finger and curling it deep into you. Hitting your sweet spot so well. Turning you into a moaning mess.
Ten groans against your neck as he feels you clench around his fingers, and he takes it as a sign to fuck you faster. You can feel the knot forming in your stomach but not wanting to come yet you hold his hand still. When you do this, his brows knit together as he glances at your face. "I want to come with you inside of me," you mutter, gazing at him with glazed eyes and and heavy breathing.
He lifts your body and carries you out of the water while you hold onto him. As you emerge from the water, your bodies glistening in the moonlight, there was a rawness and vulnerability between you that you had never felt before. It was as if the night had taken away all of your inhibitions, leaving only your love for each other.
He lays you down on the soft grass and caresses your cheek, locking his gaze with yours. "Are you sure about this?" he says, carefully examining your face for any symptoms of discomfort before he does anything.
You smile at him and pull him towards you, “I want you so badly. Please…I need you to fuck me” you say. When you tell him this, he wastes no time as his lips find their way back to yours, kissing you deeply. He settles between your legs, pushing them open. A string of curses escapes his breath as he sees your cunt completely soaked.
He strokes his cock a few times and spreads around the precum leaking from his tip before gliding it along your slit. His smirk returns to his handsome face as he watches how your face contorts in pleasure when he rubs his cock against your clit. Your breath catches in your throat, and you buckle up your hips, wanting to feel him inside of you.
He aligns himself with you and slowly pushes in. "Ten…f-fuck," you moan as he fills you completely. He kisses your skin and holds still for a few moments, allowing your walls to stretch around his length.
"You okay, my love?" he asks, stroking your hair. You nod and tell him he can now move. His hips start to roll against yours. You can feel him sliding in and out of you, pushing deeper each time. You were a dripping mess, with your juices covering every inch of his cock.
"You feel so good…taking me so well," he murmurs as his movements quicken and the lewd sounds of skin on skin become louder.
Your bodies now completely connected in every way possible, as you make love underneath the stars. You moved in perfect harmony, the gentle lapping of the water providing a rhythmic backdrop to this moment.
As you pull him closer to you, the deep feeling in your stomach appears for a second time tonight. "I'm going…fu-uck Ten, I'm-" You can't even finish your sentence as your orgasm overtakes you completely, making you come so hard. The feeling of your walls clenching around him sends him over the edge too. And you feel his cum shoot up your core, filling you up as a raspy deep moan escapes his lips.
He slowly pulls out and lies beside you, trying to catch his breath. He draws you into his arms, “you did so well for me. That was amazing,” he states, still breathing heavily. Smiling at him, you let him know you enjoyed it as much as he did.
He wraps you in his jacket and brings your head to his chest. You snuggle up to him, and you both stay silent for a while. The coolness of the water is now a distant memory as you enjoy the warmth of each other's embrace. "You do realise we're going to catch a cold, right?" you ask after some time. Ten chuckles, "Yeah, probably, but it's well worth it. Everything with you is worth it." You scrunch up your nose at his remark, which only makes him laugh loudly.
"We'll have another excuse to cuddle up," he adds. You listen with a drowsy grin on your face. As time passes while you lie in each other's arms, a sense of melancholy fills the air. You can both sense it deep within your hearts. "I wish we could have more time together," you mutter quietly, eyes glistening with tears. "If only we had more time, maybe things would have been different."
Ten shakes his head slowly, refusing to accept the truth of your words. "I know, darling," he says with a sigh. "I wish it too." You take his hand and squeeze it tightly, hoping to savour every second you have left together.
He can feel your warmth pouring through his fingers as he holds your hand. "I don't want to let go," he whispers, his voice breaking.
Your eyes meet, and a wave of sadness washes over both of you. You both know that you were about to part ways forever. Leaning closer, you kiss his cheek wanting to mend his broken heart even if it’s just a little bit. It's quiet between you again, and the air still holds your breath. Your chests rise and fall together, sharing the same heartbeat. The moonlight beams on your faces, casting an ethereal glow on the grass where you lie. It felt as if time had stopped just for you two.
Slowly, you open your eyes and glance at him again. For a split second your memories travel back to the first time you met him. It was years ago, when you met him unexpectedly at a time you thought you’d never find someone like him. You never believed in 'love at first sight,' but looking back, you realise your heart has loved Ten since the very beginning.
He never strays his eyes away from yours because he knows this is it, but he's not ready to let go. Running his fingers through your hair he can feel your breath on his lips. He has so much to say, yet the words never seem to come out properly. So he stays silent, wanting to remember this moment forever and seal it in his heart.
Each beat of your heart's echoes in the other’s chest when you wrap your arms around him, wanting to feel his body against your own one more time.
Your eyes fill with pain, knowing that you will have to let go of each other and return back over to your respective worlds. You exchange one more kiss as the clouds cover the sky, bringing an end to your brief yet beautiful rendezvous.
Looking into his eyes for the last time, you can feel the emotions well up inside of you as you see him cry. You want to tell him how you feel, how you've always felt, and how you'll always feel for him, even if you're apart. Because there is no one else you'd rather be with than him.
“I may leave you behind in this world, but I’ll never leave your heart. My love for you will never change. Even if my body is taken from you, my soul will always be with you.”
You tried to smile as you tell him, but the tears streaming down your cheeks make it hard. You couldn’t bear to see him cry and you couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him behind either. But the darkness creeps in even if you don’t want it to, and your voice wavers as you can’t keep your eyes open anymore.
“I love you, with every beat of my fading heart.”
-
Ten opens his eyes, and his tears keep rolling down his face as he searches for you in the night sky. A broken smile spreads across his face as his eyes find you again, shining so brightly. He holds up the single white chrysanthemum and whispers,
“I love you too, my little star”
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moonlezn · 25 days
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nightwalker
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𝕺 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖔 intro mermaid!reader x monster!ten wc 775 mlist
n/a: demorou, mas saiu. não é feliz. é bem experimental. tem tempo que não escrevo. não foi revisado. espero que gostem!
Era uma vez um rei, chefe do reino mais poderoso do mar, soberano incontestável. Para seu desgosto profundo, sua única filha, herdeira do trono, não poderia ser mais rebelde. Completamente diferente do pai, a sereia mais encantadora dos sete oceanos é perdidamente apaixonada pela vida fora da infinidade das águas.
A noite se aproxima, você sente na pele. A temperatura cai aos poucos, e a correnteza torna o nado mais desagradável. Ok, esta é uma implicância sua. Já havia nadado incontáveis quilômetros sem cansar-se, procurando algum lugar para arriscar-se sobre terra. 
Seu pai a mataria se soubesse. 
Ele sabe. 
E que bom, tomara que a deserde logo. 
Pensamentos como estes a fazem sorrir. Apenas a possibilidade de se ver livre do trono aquece a pedra que é o seu coração.
Sem perceber, havia parado na escuridão da profundidade e, ao cair em si, resolve que é hora de alcançar a superfície, finalmente. 
O que encontraria desta vez? Uma nova ilha? Um novo povoado? Uma cidade chata? Os humanos são muito simples, porém fascinantes. Há alguns mil anos atrás, eles não sabiam nada, era desprezível. Ao longo do tempo, criaram coisas e tornaram-se instigantes para você. 
É sempre doloroso respirar, nem um milhão de anos a permitiram se acostumar com a sensação terrível do oxigênio rasgando seus pulmões pouco desenvolvidos. 
Ainda controlando o fluxo de ar, usa os cotovelos para arrastar-se mais adiante na areia, levaria um tempo até que a calda secasse um pouco e desse lugar aos pés — um privilégio de ter sangue real. Seu pai não aproveita a condição, logicamente. 
— Chega de pensar no papai. — expira afobada ao testar a própria voz após a queimação no esôfago. 
Você soa engraçada, o som sai esquisito, então se permite rir no meio da terra desconhecida. Começa a inspecionar o ambiente, vendo árvores gigantes com folhas douradas primeiro. O luar não lhe ajuda, então aperta os olhos para distinguir os contornos distantes, sem sucesso. Parece apenas uma ilha.
A dormência familiar na parte inferior de seu corpo chega ao fim, então você se levanta, alongando os músculos das pernas. Precisam ser mais usados, coitados. Já faz dias desde sua última visita a este mundo, obviamente não é bom deixá-las descansar por tanto tempo. 
Arrisca caminhar por entre a floresta estranha, tudo é muito dourado e branco, parece tirado de um conto infantil — os humanos têm imaginação fértil. Porém, se algo de algum desses livros fosse real, seria como este lugar. 
O cheiro é doce, os frutos que encontra são deliciosos, os caminhos terrosos são encantadores. É enorme, talvez demorasse semanas para conhecer cada canto, o que lhe é muito agradável. 
Ao caminhar por um campo aberto, você nota que dali em diante, por muitos quilômetros, os tons de ouro se tornam mais sombrios. Atravessando para o outro lado, encontra arbustos enormes, espinhosos, que formam um arco apertado sobre sua cabeça. 
As panturrilhas ardem pela atividade exagerada madrugada afora, no entanto, o contorno de um castelo aparece na sua linha de visão. Definitivamente não poderia parar agora. Continua em direção à construção belíssima, apesar de reparar que a passagem se torna mais e mais estreita. 
Após alguns dos espinhos maiores lhe roubarem algumas gotas de sangue, você consegue chegar à entrada do castelo. Está completamente desprotegido, os grandes portões estão abertos, apenas uma ponte de madeira a separa de conhecer o que há ali dentro. O rio que atravessa embaixo é mais cintilante que as estrelas, não ousa aproximar-se do líquido, receosa com o que poderia causar. 
Estupefata. 
Uma criatura de beleza indescritível se materializou diante de seus olhos após seu primeiro passo. Assim como os arbustos, ele tinha espinhos. Em sua pele, porém, eles pareciam lindos. Os desenhos permanentes nos braços definidos não se pareciam com nada que você já havia visto. 
Os olhos cor de céu diurno quase não se viam por trás dos fios negros e pesados, mas te encaravam com firmeza. Não pareciam curiosos. 
— Quem é você? 
Apesar do exterior estranho, a voz que adentrou seus ouvidos é tão doce quanto as frutas que comera. 
A pergunta é retórica, ele sabia muito bem quem era a princesa prestes a invadir seu forte. Ela não precisava, entretanto, saber que sua identidade nunca havia sido um mistério.
— Uma sereia. — consegue encontrar sua voz novamente e, sem pestanejar, revela a verdade. — Você tem belas terras. — preenche o silêncio que segue, antes de tomar coragem de devolver o questionamento. — E você, é…? 
A criatura parece se divertir com sua inocência, é assustador e encantador ao mesmo tempo. Em todos os anos de terra nunca havia imaginado encontrar algo assim, achava que monstros não existiam. 
— O seu salvador.
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mystverse · 3 months
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07:15 PM
PAIRING : Ten Lee × Fem Reader
WARNINGS : None
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"Come on, love! I wanna show off my girlfriend." Ten whines, you are still skeptical because you and him are equally famous in different fields. Ten is an idol, and you are a scientist. You never thought the relationship between him and you would work out because he's a star and you are a workaholic who loved staying in your laboratory over time. Oddly, you made it through and always found both of you in his bed cuddled together. You reduced your overtime working, and he made sure to come home at night when no one can disturb your peace. Soon enough, the rumors of Ten having a girlfriend and the picture of you spread in the news.
You got threats, true, but Ten made sure to stay with you, and you always had bodyguards around because of your dad. Still, that doesn't stop the hate from reaching you. You were scared because he was the definition of beauty, and you were nowhere near him. Yet his bewitching eyes are hard to resist, so you sigh, "The paparazzi?" Adjusting his shirt, slipping off your shoulder. Ten grins because he knows you are convinced, "Don't care about it." he shrugs, springing to his feet and struts to his closet. He brings a black off-shoulder dress with black lace in the waist area and hands, stopping a little above the knee and all black three piece suit for him. You look at him with dread as he plops down next to you with a smile, "I'm not as beautiful as you, Ten. I-" You start but cut off immediately, but his lips harshly swallow the words of self-depreciation from your lips. His lips taste like wine, as his tongue glides inside your mouth, and you pull away after a few seconds, "Don't you dare." He mutters breathless against your lips. Your cheeks red with the blood rushing to your face.
"So up for flexing us?" He asks, hushed as he pulls you up to your feet, "Yeah." You answer, flushing red again when his fingers trace your curves with a sly smile.
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: MYST
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babbymochiiii · 2 months
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ON MY YOUTH: TEN LEE
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↪︎pairing: idol! ten x ngs! reader ft. xiaojun
↪︎genre: angst
↪︎warnings: crying, conflicted feelings, minor yelling, confronting on ten's bs, break up, more crying, just angst after more angst
↪︎synopsis: you’ve noticed ten has been weird ever since his recent comeback, and with one text message it confirmed everything. But you weren’t going to let him do that to you through the phone so you confront him in person.
↪︎word count: 1.9k words
link to part 2 🧡
✨note: this fic is very much inspired by On My Youth by WayV…this song put me through all sorts of stages when I heard the English ver. 😭 idk about y’all but I felt like I was going through some sort of emotional breakdown 💀 but it inspire this fic so we gucci :P anyways, enjoy! 🧡
divider credit @plutism 🖤
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We should stop seeing each other.  
It was already a shitty day as it was due to work going south with the boss yelling at everyone, including you, and it was pouring rain as you walked home as you forgot completely about the umbrella waiting at the front door.  
But this...this takes everything by the win.  
You of course felt pure rage at the fact this was the way he decided to end things with you, coping the fuck out, but you weren’t about to be disrespected like this especially when you knew that this was going to happen. Ever since he left to do some small concerts and with his most recent comeback, he’s been distant and acting like you didn’t exist at all. You had your suspicions and mentally prepared yourself for the day but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt you still.  
You looked at the time on your phone and knew that you would find him in the practice room here and his members had reserved at this time. So, that’s where you find your feet taking you.  
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Once you reached the floor where you knew the majority of the big practice rooms were at, you walked down the hall straining your ears as much as you could so you could hear WayV’s music against the other SM artists. As you walked a little further down, you could hear WayV’s newest song blasting through the speakers. You picked up your pace slightly until you were at front of the practice room door. As you were in front of the door, you tried to control the heavy breathing as you took hold of the door handle. With one last breath, you opened the door. 
Inside, you met with the members of WayV and staff members recording one of their dance practice videos.  Through the reflection of the mirror, you could see Ten in the middle of the formation dancing passionately as he always has. You feel mesmerized by the way he dances so fluidly and with such precision. It was one of many things you fell in love with Ten.  
Ten caught your gaze in the mirror which causes him to stumble in one of the moves and for Xiaojun to bump into him.  
“Ten? You okay?” Xiaojun asked as he looked towards Ten, who looked like he’s seen a ghost. Xiaojun followed his gaze and saw your trembling form standing by the doorway. “Oh.” He said softly.  
At this moment, all the staff members and WayV looked between you and Ten. The couple of staff members that had the cameras rolling stopped recording and lowered the camera.  
“Can we talk?” You shakingly asked while maintaining eye contact with Ten through the mirror. Cursing to yourself internally for not holding onto whatever confidence you had left.  
“I guess.” Ten said lowly with a shrug.  
“Why don’t we all take a break and give them space?” WayV’s manager said with a gently clap of his hands as he gave everyone a straight smile. He eyed the two of you as everyone else walked out of the room before he followed them, closing the door behind them. 
“What are you doing here?” Ten asks with a sigh as he looks anywhere else but directly towards you.  
“Don’t act like you don’t know.” You almost practically whine as you started to feel all the emotions you were suppressing rise up to the surface, considering you never knew how to hide how you felt from Ten.  
“Look, I don’t have the time to be playing your guessing game here.” Ten said with an eye roll as he finally looked towards you.  
You bit down on your bottom lip to the point where you almost drew blood. You dug into your bag for your phone and pulled up the text message he sent you a couple of hours ago, that you only saw on the way out from work.  
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“Oh, that.” Ten said with a flat tone.  
A scoff leaves your lips as you brought your hand down and tightly gripped at your phone. “Yes that." you mimicked as you tried to control your breathing.  
“So, what about it then?”  
You stared at Ten and really tried to understand what was happening here. How can he be acting like this? After everything… “‘What about it then?’ Ten are you that fucking dense?” You asked as you looked at him with a frown on your face.  
“I said what I said okay.” Ten says as he turns around and grabs his water bottle from the floor.  
“Ten, really? Like are you really going to be like this?” You questioned as you felt your eyebrows crease close together.  
“I honestly have no clue what you’re talking about.” he said with a careless shrug as he took a swing of his water bottle.  
“For God’s sake Ten! Talk to me!” You raised your voice as you started to walk on a thin line of patience with him.  
With a roll of his eyes, Ten looked at you with an eyebrow raised as he waited for you to speak.  
You stared at him with watery eyes as you felt all the bewilderment fall on top of your shoulders. You couldn’t understand why this has to happen now, not after everything you’ve been through with him. The more you look at Ten the more you get truly lost at who this person is in front of you.  
“Why?”  
Ten stared at you for another beat before he looked down at his feet with a sigh.  “Because it’s not fair.” He said as he continued to stare at his feet like it's the most interesting thing in the world.  
“Not fair?” you questioned back to him as you started to feel something within you turn in anger. As if you needed something more to add to the already fire induced anger inside of you.  
“I just don’t find it fair that I basically get to live a life while you stay home and wait for me.” Ten said without missing a beat and looked at you with a straight face.  
It was quite a blow... you admit, you weren’t expecting that to be his answer, but the pure anger and stressed feelings consumed your whole body, leaving you to feel overall exhausted at this point.  
“Ten—” you sighed out as you closed your eyes tightly trying to understand everything that’s happening right now. “— you know very well that I was content like that. I was happy to wait for you to come home and spend time with you...why are you making this an issue now?”   
“It just hurts my pride.” He says with a shrug. 
“Your pride? Ten please, that’s such a fucking cop out.” You told you as you truly started to feel the weight of everything fall on your shoulder as you knew that this was it...truly the end of it all.  
Silence wrapped around the two of you in the most gut-wrenching tension as you both just looked at one another. Each waiting to see what the other will say.  
With a defeated sigh, you looked down at your feet with your eyes closed trying your hardest to not let the threatening tears escape. You weren’t going to let him do this to you.  
“Two years...” You told him softly as you looked up and looked at him with a small smile and with tears pooling in your eyes. “Two years I have been so happy with you. We were happy. I love you so much that right now I wish I didn’t because it hurts Ten. It hurts too much.” you said with a dry chuckle as you started to feel your throat tightening and forming a lump in your throat as you started to feel everything wanting to discompose from within you.  
“I gave you so much Ten. So much. But you used me — used me till the last drop. I’m burnt out at this point.” you said as one tear fell out of your eye and created a wet trail down your cheek.  
Ten stared at you with slightly wide eyes, not truly believing that this is happening right now. Yes, he wanted to end things...but he didn’t know you’ve been feeling like this. Genuinely, he thought it would be how it has been lately. He would do something that would upset you, and you forgive him but that isn’t happening this time around. Ten felt himself start to panic internally as he looked at you slowly lose your composure in front of him.  
“No amount of sorrys is going to fix what you just broke Ten. None of your lies are going to sugar coat this and make me “forget” everything you have done to me for the past months Ten...none of it. You fed me so much bullshit lately and you completely lost me.” you said with a sad laugh. “Knowing you, you’re probably gonna say something along the line that we’re too young and that you want to focus on your career.” you said as you watched Ten’s reaction.  
You saw the way Ten sucked in a breath and how his cheeks turned a light pink as he continued to look at you with wide eyes.  
“I knew it. So much bullshit Ten.” you said as you felt more tears falling down your face. “This is where we officially end things, yeah.” you softly said as you tried to hold in the rest of the tears as you turned around, starting to make your way to the dance practice room.  
“Wait—” 
“No Ten. This is what you wanted, right? I’m just making this easier for you, so you don’t have to keep lying to me.” you said with one last glance towards Ten’s figure. You swear you can see a tear fall down his face but you turned your face away quickly so you wouldn’t lose what’s left of your composure.  
“Goodbye Ten.” you gave your final goodbye to Ten before you turned the doorknob and walked out of the room with tiny pieces of what used to be your heart inside of your chest.  
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Months have passed since that day you confronted and ended things with Ten.  
You kept some small tabs on him here and there whenever fans would post about WAYV and their group or solo activities. This time though, you’ve noticed that they have come out with a new English version of one of their songs in their latest album.  
Curious, you clicked the link that took you to YouTube, and started to play out the video for the song. Hearing the song for the first time and listening to the lyrics brought back those painful memories as you could hear the hurt in Ten’s voice as he sang his parts.  
You looked at the song title as tears landed on your phone screen. 
On My Youth... 
A sad, watery smile formed on your face as you continued to listen to the song, and you couldn’t help but feel the need to miss him. You know you shouldn’t, but it was a two-year relationship that Ten decided to throw out with one stupid text.  
As the song came to an end, you felt your chest rake with heavy breathing as you continued to quietly sob into your hands. While you used the sleeves of your sweater to clean the tears off of your face, there was a knock at the door.  
Slowly getting up, you made your way to the door.  
You stood at the other end of the door still with your chest rising and falling rapidly. Just as you reached for the doorknob, Ten’s voice was heard on the other side.  
“Can we talk?”
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Thank you for reading!!! 🖤 hopefully you guys enjoyed this story! I haven’t written angst in a good while and it took me awhile to get a crack in this story ✋🏼💀
Should I make a part 2? 🧐 lemme know in the comments/in my ask what you think! Should we see y/n and ten talk to one another or just leave it as is?? I’m genuinely curious to see what you guys think! 🖤✨
With much much love from me to you, mochi 🕷️
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spicyseonghwas · 9 months
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jealous ; ten lee
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pairing :: ten chittaphon x male reader genres/au's :: angst, fluff, romance viewer rating :: 13+ (pt.2 WILL contain sexual content) content warnings :: light cursing, crying, kissing, light makeout session, reader calls ten "cheetah" which is a reference to part of the pronunciation of ten's legal first name word count :: 1,646 (1,482 words originally) network tag :: @preciousillusions-net
pt.1 ; pt.2
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ten had never had to live without you, not even before he knew there was a heart as pure as yours out there in the world. you had been right there by his side for so long, forgiven so many of his mistakes, that the idea of you not there next to him was excruciating to think about. he couldn't bear it. the thought and sound of your name was beginning to burn a hole in his heart.
you had been in love with ten for years and years now, but you were still absolutely terrified to tell anyone, especially him. he was perfect, you had always known it. he had always treated you like a king, and you had always tried your hardest to treat him the same way in return for his efforts. but it was starting to hurt now, you were starting to feel sort of lonely. and you didn't know who else to go to, because you couldn't just CONFESS TO TEN…
so you went to johnny.
"i… i just don't know what to do, johnny," you whimpered, tightening your arms around johnny's chest and hiding your face with a tiny whimper. "it… it hurts so fucking much…"
"i know it hurts, m/n," he whispered softly back to you, "trust me. i know firsthand how bad love can bite." he tangled his fingers carefully int the baby hairs on the base of the back of your neck, rubbing soft, firm little circles into the muscles in your neck.
"what the hell am i supposed to do, johnny??" you cried into his chest, "i can't keep this from him forever, he's my bet fucking friend! he has a right to know!"
"yeah, but how exactly are you gonna go about telling him this after all the shit you've pulled him through with the rest of the relationships he's tried to commit to?"
"i-i dunno. i guess i'll just have to tell him… he's gotta know." you said quietly, burying your face in johnny's neck. "i'm scared though…"
"i'll be right here the whole time, m/n." johnny whispered into your ear, hugging you tight. "you just tell me when you're ready."
~+~
you inhaled as deeply as you could without hurting yourself, lifting a shaking hand and knocking softly on johnny's door.
"johnny?"
"i'm here." johnny's soft, husky morning voice floated through the material of the door, followed by soft footsteps coming up to the door on the other side. then the door cracked open and johnny's face peeked out.
"what's up?" he asked, peeking around the door and smiling when he saw that it was you on the other side. he opened the door a bit more to hear you better.
"i… i'm ready." you nearly whispered as you tried your best to steady your voice.
"yeah?" he replied, "you're sure?"
you nodded.
"yeah." you said softly, taking deep breaths to try to control your heartbeat a bit.
johnny smiled reassuringly, silently telling you that everything was going to be okay.
"let's go, then."
~+~
"ten?" johnny called softly, knocking on the thai boy's door for the third time. "ten, you there?"
"y-shit, yeah, i'm here." you heard from what sounded like ten's bed, "i'm coming, hang on- DAMN IT, LEO- FUCK-"
"NEVER HAVE CHILDREN, JOHNNY!" ten burst out the second he'd opened the door enough to see johnny.
"ten- ten, you don't have any children…" johnny's voice trailed off and floated away as he looked up and down ten's arms at the fresh cat scratches that adorned them.
"having cats sucks. cats count as children, johnny."
after a long moment of awkward silence and a lingering, slightly worried look between you and johnny, ten finally realized there was a reason he had guests at his room at ten at night.
"what's up, guys?" ten finally asked, "is there something i should know?"
"...yeah," johnny said after a moment of stunned silence, "we need to- m/n-" he corrected himself as he looked at you- "needs to talk to you about something. it's something that's really important to him."
"sure! what's going on, m/n?" ten asked, looking over at you as he backed up to let you into the room.
johnny waved to you, giving you a soft, reassuring smile and a gentle squeeze on your shoulder. you waited till he left before following ten into his room. you followed his gestures for you to sit on the bed next to him.
"so what's up, bestie?"
"i... ten, i'm just gonna say this bluntly to preserve my sanity..." you said, taking a deep breath.
"i love you."
"i'm aware of that, m/n."
"what..." your voice trailed off into stunned silence. "n-no-no, ten, i love you. i'm in love with you." you repeated, looking blankly at ten, who simply blinked back at you in silence.
"m/n, we are best friends, i can feel your emotions." ten stated, "i basically live in your fucking walls. i can tell when you're hungry, that's how close we are."
"...ten, that was me confessing my love for you."
"i am completely aware of that, and you seem to be having some trouble accepting this information."
"i-what-TEN, SHUT UP-" you started. but you weren't able to finish your sentence, as your aggravated yelling was cut off and your wrist- the one you now found to have made it halfway towards ten's shoulder with a balled up fist- was suddenly in a tight grip. you felt the weight of ten's whole body press into your own as he pushed you backward onto the bed. your heart raced up into your throat as you felt your back hit the covers.
"ten, what-" you started, but again never finished as you felt ten's lips connect with yours. your face heated up like the air in malaysia, and your eyes fluttered clsosed as your whole body have in to ten's surprise advances.
your face was still hot and your heart was still racing when ten finally broke the kiss, looking as always as though he had never broken a sweat in all of his 27 glorious years of life. ten smiled happily, one hand slipping into yours and the other underneath you as you felt his nose nuzzle your neck. he and you were silent for a while, just relishing in each other's presence, and the event that had just transpired.
but ten wasn't only thinking about the kiss... it was actually starting to slip from his mind.
no...
ten was thinking about johnny.
he was thinking about how much more often you had been hanging around johnny lately, and how much less you seemed to want to spend your time with him, your best friend. it was making his heart hurt, he was scared you were growing away from him.
"you're not really in love with me, are you?" he blurted, not registering that the words had even come out of his mouth until it was already far too late.
"what?" you snapped, sitting up in a panic. "what? ten, i jusst confessed my undying love for you. i just fucking kissed you! what the hell makes you think i'm not in love with you?? who the hell told you that??"
"no one, i just... you've been hanging out with me so much less nowadays, it's making me think you're growing on me a little too much. i'm starting to think you don't enjoy being around me anymore..." ten's voice trailed away, cracking a little as he turned away to shield from your eyes that one single tear that had rolled down his cheek.
"ten, i've been spending time with johnny because i'm a 127 member. we're in the middle of promotions, i have to spend time with him. i have to spend time with my group mates sometimes too! i spend half my life on a stage with them..." you said softly, scooting over and wrapping your arms carefully around ten's slim waist. "just because i'm hanging out with my friends doesn't mean i don't like spending time with you, ten, i love you. my heart aches for you every time you're not there. i. love. you, ten."
ten shook for a moment in your arms, sniffling a bit as he wiped tears from his and eventually turned to look at you.
"y-you promise?" he whispered, looking into your eyes with his own teary ones and nearly breaking your heart in the process. you smiled softly, nodding and moving your hand up to wipe the tears gently off his face.
"yes, ten, i promise." you responded quietly but also a little aggressively. "you're my cheetah, no one else gets to have you."
ten finally smiled, leaning in for another kiss. you obliged, closing the distance and letting your lips mould with his as your arms moved up and wrapped around his shoulders. you didn't remember crawling onto ten's lap, but suddenly you were there, and his hands were snaking carefully under the brim of your shirt. you tilted your head slightly to the side, letting your lips and his mesh together more ffectively, smiling and opening your mouth once when he licked your bottom lip, obviously asking for entrance.
"hmmm, such a bold boy," you hummed, tugging ever-so-lightly on ten's hair. you broke away and grinned like a devil when you felt and heard the other boy frowl quietly into your mouth. he pouted when you pulled back, crawling off his lap and pulling him with you by the hand as you moved backward onto your knees toward the head of the bed.
"c'mere, pretty boy," you growled playfully, grabbing him by the waist and latching back onto his mouth. "fuck me like you want me too..." ten grinned evilly, evidently having somehow managed to remove both your and his shirts without you noticing.
"gladly, darling," he purred, shoving you back into the pillows.
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© seonghwas-lighter 2023-2024.
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haechanhues · 6 months
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THE SERIAL LOVER
in which a girl farewells every boy she’s ever loved (or at least had romantic feelings for) in order to prove that her feelings for one particular boy are very real and unwavering. 
chapter six : chittaphon leechaiyapornkul
masterlist | prev | next
taglist : @matchahyuck @haisuken @dinonuguaegi
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breadcatcreations · 2 years
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Jeno is one of the softest boyfriends EVER! Like when it come to you he would o anything. But he also is going to fuck you into oblivion. Ughhh, Jeno loves you so much. Like he’ll be gentle but not at the same time. Like he’s choke your Intel your gasping for air, fucking you like he’s a dog in heat, spank you, mark you, and like edge you. But also while he’s fucking you, kissing you softly, holding your body close to his, asking if your okay, and ✨praising✨. This man is bound to have the best after care, I swear on my fucking life. He’ll press soft kisses to your face, cuddle you with his dick still in you, whispers little nothings in you ear, and either run a bath or just clean you up with a warm towel. Ughhh I need a sex life 😭😭
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woozten-x · 2 years
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#. 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐁𝐨𝐲 | 𝐓𝐞𝐧
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‹3 gif originally posted by highwaytoheaven (fyi this is their OLD acc!)
[ ; M.List including other Neos! ]
─ Synopsis: Perfection - there is no other word to describe him. He is the dream boy, the one that everyone falls for or at least has a soft spot for; he can possibly get anyone in the whole world to fall for him. Knowing him since highschool and being his best friend, you’ve tried your best to control your feelings for him After all, how could you possibly pursue your dream of love with Ten Lee?
─ Pairing: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul (Ten) x Gender-Neutral Reader (use of they/them)
─ Genre: Fanfiction, Humorous Moments, Fluff/Wholesome, Angst w. Happy Ending
─ Disclaimer: I do not personally know WayV! This is a work of FICTION. ALL 7 members are mentioned and  they appear throughout the story ─ Content Warning(s): Mentions of alcohol + actual intoxication occurs spoiler alert its ten & profanity used (f bomb used in like two sentences
─ Concepts: College!AU, Dance Major!Ten x  Art!Major Reader, Opposites attract literally, best friends to lovers :), kinda a slowburn(?), The other members are there for lighthearted moments + Kun is a tired parent </3, reader fr a overthinker, Ten exposes himself when drunk, reader is literally friends with WayV + besties with Kun & Ten
─ Count of Words: 11.2k all for my first nct bias </3
─ Inspiration of the work: Dream Boy by Waterparks + “If you don’t trust me by now, tell me right now - what can I do just to keep you around?” (Low Low by Ten & Yangyang)
Gossip - a curse seeming to float around all morning, once you started your class. Ears straining to hear every last bit of it and anticipation leading to animated reactions, as though it really mattered to them or personally affected them; but, even if you are one to always keep to yourself, you are always catching a glimpse of conversations. Whether they knew you were there or not, you knew some rumors with an untelling sign of being true or not.
Though, some may sound ridiculously stupid at times - you can’t help, but be a bit more awake than usual in the morning. For today, the topic of discussion is surrounding your best friend; somehow, the mention of his name is waking you up more than the coffee in hand after placing your stuff down. Sitting down in your chosen seat, you held your phone in your hands and looked down, acting distracted for the time-being to avoid looking too invested in such conversation.
Ironically enough, you are trying your best to not be nosy.
“Have you heard? Ten rejected Robin from the dance team!”
“Seriously? I thought they were dating already.”
“Turns out Robin had feelings for him for a while, but…”
Curiously yet subtly, you spared a glance at the students speaking to one another. You recognized them from the dance team of the University, knowing their faces since Ten Lee had hung out with them before outside of their dance practice and meetings; though, the names to label their faces was knowledge you didn’t possess. You never really cared, anyway. After such a dramatic pause, the one explaining continues - “But, he said that he likes someone else and apologized for not liking Robin back…”
A gasp falls from the other student listening, eyes wide as saucers and a hand covering her gaping mouth. You blink at the reaction, not exactly reactive to the news as you expected; maybe you should be a little more surprised, but it was expectant of Ten to be interested in somebody. After all, he is quite popular and he’s met many people, it could be anyone! You let out a small sigh, quite disappointed to hear the news however.
It’s a simple crush, you would repeatedly tell yourself.
You shouldn’t feel the tinge of jealousy for that very person, knowing you were no match for Ten himself. He is your best friend and a person who is far out of your league, you knew someone like yourself would never deserve him; even if you’ve seen the worst parts of Ten, he is someone you cannot have. Surely, the reality is quite damaging and harsh yet you adapted to this perspective of things - after all, you were nothing but the shadow in the background or the side character.
The replaceable and easily forgettable side character, to be exact. A person who isn’t surrounded by many friends who know you and isn’t always the first pick when inviting you to events. Fortunately enough, you are able to have Ten as your best friend - honestly, it was the most you could ask for and nothing more. Shooting your shot is completely out of the picture, knowing you will become another ‘Robin’ to Ten.
“Good morning.” Suddenly, a voice rings out and you look up from your phone to face one of the few friends you made during University. Dong Sicheng, a junior in University and only being a year younger, settles beside you with his own belongings and a yawn escaping from him. His lame greeting shows the lack of enthusiasm he has for the morning, and you smile back at him before putting down your phone - “Good morning. I am guessing you got ready last minute?” you say, eyes observing the male next to you.
His hair was a bit messy, a few stray strands standing up in a few places and it seems like he threw on whatever he could find - ah, you definitely recognize that hoodie from a week ago. Sicheng hums, “It’s a Monday. I forgot about this class.” he sighs while stretching out his arms and letting his body rest atop of the desk. You rest your chin on the basis of your palm after propping your elbow up onto the desk, “Did you stay up playing games or what?” you ask with a slight tilt of your head.
“God, don’t remind me…I regretted it. Dejun and Hendery were a pain to carry,” he groans and brings his hands up against his face to rub the tiredness lingering on his expression. You laugh, your gaze slowly returning to the dance students gossiping about their dance leader - the mentions of Ten’s name making you sigh, a small ache resonating in your heart. Is a crush supposed to hurt this much? Even so, how could you believe some gossip like that?
You never know if it is true! Knowing yourself however, you knew you wouldn’t bother to ask Ten himself about the rumors surrounding him.
Sicheng grunts, “It must be a pain to be so popular.”
You perked up at his sarcastic comment, looking towards him. “You heard about the stuff surrounding Ten?” you ask and Sicheng nods, another yawn escaping him while he sits up in his seat. “Considering how many people are on the dance team, it’s everywhere.” He said, rolling his eyes a bit; sometimes, he’s glad he doesn’t have the curse of popularity influencing his college life. Sicheng looks towards you a bit quizzically, “Did he ever mention to you and Kun about having a crush on someone? You seem surprised.”
“Um…No? I don’t know about Kun knowing, but I am definitely surprised. He always says he never has time for that type of stuff,” you said with a shrug and a pang to your heart. It was another reason why you never bothered trying - Ten’s passion for dancing and focus on becoming a dance teacher and owning his very own studio leads him incredibly busy in achieving such reality, rather than worrying about a little funny thing called ‘love’. If you were to ever confess, you knew your friendship with Ten would end up in shambles and possibly become a setback to Ten.
You never want to be a burden for him, after all.
Sicheng hums in acknowledgement to your words, “He always talks about everything but not at the same time. He is really something, especially to his own best friends.” He said and you simply nodded. Even during your junior year of highschool, befriending Ten is similar to a feline; someone who can be expressive, but chooses to be aloof with many things. You never minded though, knowing Ten trusts you enough to reach out whenever he does need it. But, even for years of knowing him, you wonder if you ever heard him talk about his past relationships.
The thought seems quite sour at the tip of your tongue. Someone having Ten as theirs? The very thought made you squirm in your seat, the greediness within your heart wishing to be that same person who possibly made Ten happy; at the very same time though, your heart aches as it knows his heart is not supposed to fit perfectly on the palms of your hands.
You didn’t deserve it.
The perfect fit for Ten is someone, but it wasn’t you.
No matter how many times you hope, reality is always willing to crush it like a bug scattering away from the truth.
. . .
Carrying your tray alongside your other best friend since highschool, you wait for the other male to pick up the desired food he wanted for lunch, the two of you accompanying each other in comfortable silence. Qian Kun, a classmate of yours when the two of you met then mutually knowing each other through Ten, places a few items on his tray before looking towards you - “They don’t have the sweet bread they usually have,” he complains with a disappointing sigh. Tilting your head towards the options on display, you could understand the disappointment the other had; it wasn’t impressive whatsoever.
“Maybe they’ll have it tomorrow?” you suggest, the words said in hopes of comforting your disappointed best friend of missing his favorite snack. He lets out a quiet ‘hopefully’, finally moving away from his spot and walking towards the usual table the two of you sat at; following after him, you felt an uncomfortable twist within your gut. It definitely wasn’t the bathroom calling, but the type to make you feel something is wrong. You glance around, wondering if your own intuition is leading you to some sort of answer in the cafeteria.
To no avail, you are left with no direct sign or answer to your bothersome feeling. The slight tugging causes you to feel a bit anxious, is it that serious? You try your best not to think too much, especially when sitting next to Kun. Knowingly, the other male would be questioning you and trying to solve the mystery with you; you've never been the type to say much about whatever is on your mind, surely that won’t change now. “Thank you for the meal,” Kun hums out before eating and you take off your backpack to place it onto your lap; hands unzipping and peeking inside. It seems like your own intuition was correct, as you rummage through your belongings to find something missing.
“Shit. I forgot my sketchbook,” you tut out with a sigh followed after and closing up your backpack once you realized. Kun looks towards you with slight confusion, “You forgot it at your dorm or in class?” he asks, unsure of where exactly you left it. Picking up the kimchi sitting in the corner of your tray with your chopsticks, “During class.” you reply back while taking a bite. Kun swallows a few more bites, concern expressing from his handsome face and you know he is going to say the ‘Really? Today must not be your day.’
Maybe it wasn’t. Was it about Ten? You could feel the distaste towards such an assumption, feeling like an overreaction more than anything. It was the start of a week, supposedly you are still begging for a longer weekend.
“You know, you should start packing up faster. I wouldn’t be missing out on the snacks they have!” A voice of complaint says, a tray placed down in front of you and you looked towards the owner of the voice - Hendery; a sophomore with long brown locks and doe eyes in University where you met him at a party with Kun a year ago, and you are still unsure on what his real name is. Another dark brunette male followed him after, sitting down in front of you once setting down his tray - Dejun.
“I was getting notes for the both of us since someone didn’t pay attention to the lecture!” Dejun argues back, the two of them bickering and you watch alongside Kun. It wasn’t too surprising, as Dejun and Hendery have been close friends along with another student - Yukhei; a tall, broad male who intimidated you at first, only to know he is a happy virus like Hendery. He is the same person who exposed Hendery’s passport, and now you and Kun have no idea what his real name is since everyone called him Hendery for whatever reason.
Though, the more you pondered on other possible names held accountable for Hendery’s identity, you cannot find another name that doesn’t fit him.
Once the two quieted down from their quarrel, Kun spoke up - “You two didn’t pay attention during the lecture?” he questions, seeming to only pay attention to the fact the two younger students didn’t bother to listen than their petty argument about packing up faster. Dejun shrugs, “I zoned out. But, you know what he did? He fell asleep.” He tells, dramatically turning to look at Hendery then rolling his eyes. “Maybe if you didn’t suck so bad at ranked, we wouldn’t be staying up!” the brunette exclaims.
“How long did you two stay up?” Kun says with disappointment, sounding like a parent becoming the mediator of his two children’s problems.
“Three of us stayed up until 4 a.m.” Dejun answers.
“Three?”
“Sicheng was with us!” Hendery discloses, exposing your first period friend and classmate. You raised a hand to speak up, “I can vouch for that. He was exhausted this morning.”
Kun loudly scoffs, “You three were staying up for games?” a loud sigh followed after while he shakes his head. He could never understand the three of them. Hendery gasps, “It’s more than a game! It’s ranked.” He defends, his hands lifting in exaggeration to his justification. You chuckle, until you see four familiar boys approaching the table; your eyes instantly moving towards one.
Keen on the details of his smile taking place on his pink lips and his usual sharp gaze softer than usual, his expression radiant as though the sun had captured his beauty. Black hair parted and neatly combed, no sight of any stray strands; he is well-kept, having no flaw when it comes to his handsomeness. No matter how many times you look at him, your own heart becomes steady as if you were in a state of euphoria - you are mesmerized by the most breathtaking art piece in the whole room.
“Has your parents taught you that staring is rude?” The playful comment saves you from the captivity you felt towards Ten. The raven-head standing in front of you and tilting his head at you, almost mocking you while you looked up at him; you felt a smile appear on your face, “I can’t stare at my pretty best friend?” You answer back. You weren’t one to always talk, especially in your loud group of your friends; but, you were one of the few who is able to keep up with Ten’s banter.
However, calling him your ‘best friend’ out loud felt undeniably wrong. Of course, it was only your own loyalty to the fact that you find him nothing more than a crush - Ten being your first love is a dream; a faraway dream whereas you could not capture, no matter how many times you leap.
“Eww!” yells out the youngest member among everyone, the blonde watching the two of you interact from the very start had cried out in disgust rather dramatically. Everyone at the table looked at him, “You two should get together at this point.” Yangyang simply said, Ten rolling his eyes and nudging you to move as he tried to sit beside you. Pushing Kun along the way, “Yah! You could have just sat on my side.” He protests while Sicheng sits beside him. Ten lets out an amused hum, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close to his side.
You felt your breath hitch, the scent of cologne and a tinge of coffee reaching your senses once pulled closer. “I want to be close with the cutest Y/N~” he teases, speaking in a high voice to express his adoration for you. After knowing Ten for years, his own fake adoration for you always made you feel certain things; knowing damn well, you can’t cling onto the idea of seeing him as a ‘crush’ every time it occurs. He always acts this way, especially towards Yangyang or Sicheng, you aren’t exactly special. “Is my cutie blushing?” Ten points out, unknowingly you are sitting next to him with pink decorating your cheeks.
Suddenly, the obnoxious laughter of Yukhei is ringing in your ears, the others expressing their disgust or joining in the teasing about you. At this very moment, you wish you could be swallowed whole and disappear. “Shut up all of you,” you helplessly say while lifting up your own hands to hide your face and Yangyang points at you - “You can’t tell me that they aren’t cute together!” he says, the others nodding and agreeing.
Surprisingly enough, Ten didn’t bother to deny such a thing. He continues to smile and hold you close next to him, a sense of proudness radiating from him and you felt like crumbling at that very moment. What the hell is Ten doing? What the hell is everyone doing? Being the butt of some joke is not always fun, especially when it’s taking a toll on your feelings.
“I have to go!” you utter out amidst your embarrassment, finally moving to push Ten away and lifting yourself up from your seat. Kun looks at you, “Are you alright?” he voices out his concern, realizing they may have crossed a certain line. “Can I at least have your leftovers?” Yukhei suddenly speaks out, pointing at the food remaining on your tray; it was obvious the taller was changing the topic for the sake of everyone, or maybe he is seriously concerned about food being thrown out in the trash.
You clear your throat, “I have to get my sketchbook. I have art after this.” You said while pushing your tray towards the athlete in silent acceptance towards his request. Yukhei smiles, “Thank you~” he said happily. Thankfully enough, everyone else followed along with the flow of conversation - Dejun speaks up, “At the dorm or…?” his words trail off along with his confusion. Picking up your backpack, “In my last class.”
Ten watches you then flinches once feeling Yangyang subtly kicking him underneath the table. He meets eyes with the younger before looking at you, “I’ll go with you. It’s almost time to get to class anyway and our departments are close to each other.” He said, getting up and the others nodded their heads in acknowledgement towards his words. Hendery reaches over, “Gimme gimme.” he childishly says, picking up a few of your leftovers on the tray next to Yukhei’s. Kun waves a hand, “See you guys later.”
Leaving the cafeteria with Ten accompanying your side, you look at him in the corner of your eye; he looks ahead, his perfect side profile fully on display and it makes your own heart ache by his visuals. He turns his head to look at you, instinctively you turn to face him properly and meet his eyes - he smiles upon seeing your face, “Did I embarrass you a bit too much back there? I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.” He says, his voice sweet yet smooth in your ears.
You shook your head, “No…It’s alright. I wasn’t really prepared for the sudden change of topic.” You manage out an excuse, knowing it sounds confusing on what you really meant. You knew your friends long enough to know anyone can be targeted for teasing, you are no stranger to such tactics; maybe you are not used to being teased often? Oh, your brain is trying to make up every damn excuse on why you reacted the way you did. Deep down, deep in the depths of your heart, you knew that you were flustered because of Ten himself. Thankfully, Ten had no will to pry and simply accept your answer - “Alright, I am just checking.” He said, nodding his head.
You nearly forgot why you had left the cafeteria, almost walking by the class and you halted in your steps while Ten followed along. “It’s this class, let me grab it.” You say, ready to open the door and step inside before Ten reaches out and holds onto your hand. Pausing, feeling his cold skin against your warm hands made you shudder; Ten always had unnaturally cold hands, for some odd reason. You look towards him with confusion, “Is there something wrong?” You ask and he seems to be deep in thought.
The usual smile playing on his lips was transparent, completely gone to the eye; even when you tried to move your hand away, he had quite a grip on you to prevent you from moving away. Unusually so, he is serious. No, dramatic head tilt with a glare like he would do with hints of sass nor any expression of him teasing you with his actions - you were unsure whether to call out his name to lead him out of his trance or wait.
“Are you free tomorrow night?” Ten asks an unexpected question for such serious anticipation. You thoughtfully pondered, wondering if you are free; it was a Tuesday night and you shook your head with a small pout, “No. I have to finish this project I am working on by Friday and I was assigned with a presentation. Why?” You reply back with head tilting in mere confusion towards the male. A chuckle escapes from his lips, his somber expression cracked by his usual smile - “I expected you to be busy. I was going to invite you to a party tomorrow.”
His grasp weakened and he didn’t spare another glance to his hand occupied with yours. Breathlessly, your gaze shifts away from his face and onto the hand holding onto yours; Ten looking also, and he lets go to your dismay. Tinge of discontent flourishing throughout your body, your mind wishing you could hold onto him a bit longer and tighter. “A party on a Tuesday?” You laugh, relieving the tension between the two of you with a cursing warmth spreading across your cheeks; you are blushing like a fool again.
“I know right? Well, it is more of the dance team’s party but I decided to invite some of my friends other than Yangyang.” He sighs, seeming quite let down by your rejection. You wished to apologize and hopefully reconsider your plans, however your bad habit of procrastinating for art isn’t something to be taken lightly; considerably enough, you knew you needed an idea on what to draw then paint, which would take time to dry. You sigh, the time where you could hang out with your usually busy best friend wasn’t going to work out whatsoever.
“Let's hang out next time whenever we get the chance, okay?” You smile at him, compensating for the lost time between the two of you. Even the small moments of walking to class together wasn’t enough, especially since you want to spend time with Ten and Kun like the old days. “We can also invite Kun too when we do!” You said with excitement, a slight bounce on the soles of your feet and Ten couldn’t say ‘no’ to you. Seeing your cute habit of bouncing a little in excitement and smiling widely like a child during Christmas morning, Ten would have to be catching some miracle to see you like this. He misses you, after all. He nods his head, “Sounds like a plan~ Maybe we can talk about it once we graduate or towards the end of the year.” 
“I would love that,” You say with a grin sent towards him. Ten’s eyes flicker away from your eyes to your lips, a temptation to your cute smile, but he holds back. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the right time to do anything. Remembering your original plan on why you ventured off with Ten, you exclaimed a quick ‘be right back!’ and left inside the classroom with Ten standing in front of the door. His smile fell away, a hand lifting up onto his chest and he felt his very heart racing. Shaking his head, he tries to calm himself down.
Albeit the many times he’s hung out with you, Ten’s own vision becomes clearer than before; it was a late realization, but the idea of love with you seems to become a desire. Other than his passion for dancing and education becoming his distraction, Ten hoped he could confess his feelings soon.
Unknowingly enough, Ten is hoping to catch the right time to give you a chance of love with him.
. . .
Seated on the wooden floor of your single room dorm, you stare blankly at your open sketchbook with the most uninterested look. It was a Tuesday night, the night where you are alone and stuck with the soft murmuring of the music playing for the past two hours - somehow, the same two hours had passed within two minutes! You realized the time passing by like sand falling between the gaps of your fingers, the surprise overtaking your expression; how the hell is it two hours later?
How the hell did you proceed to waste so much time doing nothing? You groan and raise your hands, placing them on your face while dramatically falling back. Your back hits the hard floor underneath, “I can’t think of anything!” you yell over your music to express your exasperation. For some odd reason, you couldn’t find any motivation nor any ideas on what to draw; regardless of the wasted time of pondering, you found no renowned idea to use for this project. Sometimes, you wished there was a prompt to follow this time.
However, what is an artist without any ounce of creativity? Maybe you should have gone out to that damn party to hopefully find some inspiration. It was a last resort and possibly will be your biggest regret, if you went - after all, it was a party with alcohol and you know damn well you will awaken in the morning with a hangover or feeling shitty in general from the aftermath of adrenaline.
Staring up at the ceiling, you drift away from reality. The melody of the music carries you elsewhere and you let out a deep sigh, the exhale letting your body relax; even in the midst of stress, you always find some ability to distract yourself from it. Daydreaming for hours is one skill you have, the skill possibly manifested from the past of being alone for the most part; suddenly, you are taken back to the past of your highschool years. There is always a saying of your middle school years being the worst, somehow both highschool and middle school became your worst - how the hell did you survive?
You’ve always been someone who is stuck in the background. A wandering shadow, who is never taking the spotlight regardless of the chance of it being open or not; if you were lucky enough, people would notice for some idle conversation and you simply fade back into the background once again. Maybe it was your fault for never trying in your friendships, but it’s not like you are surviving school for the sake of having friends - you’ve always been one stuck in the clouds, ‘head in the clouds’ as anyone would call it.
You were always stuck elsewhere, constantly engaged with your sketchbook. Even if you were lucky enough to find people who did talk to you, you were never the one invited outside of school; sometimes, you are lucky enough to be a side character who stands there without much purpose. People only spoke to you because they were either alone in the class or they were fishing out for answers for the damn study guide, regardless you knew you weren’t of much importance to anyone.
Even if you were lonely, you learned to deal with it until junior year of highschool. For some odd reason, you’ve grown interested in the position of becoming the manager for the dance club; why was there a manager position? You have no idea. Maybe it was because of the other sports clubs having at least one manager. The job was fairly easy, you didn’t mind staying at school during after school hours to help the teacher plan and promote. But, one particular day stood out most in comparison with others.
“Y/N, can you lock up the clubroom? I need to get home earlier than usual. Also, please sort these out too!” the teacher said to you, packing up her belongings and you looked towards her. For some reason, you couldn’t put a face to the voice; to you, she wasn’t someone you remembered too much of. Upon realization, everyone’s faces seem a bit blurry in the past. Regardless of the minor detail, like the memory goes, you accepted and took a mental note where the keys were to lock up.
Sorting through and finishing up the smaller tasks, you finally pack up to get ready and return back home. Tucking the sketchbook underneath your arm, the item you were attached to ever since and possibly the only thing that understood you more than others, you grab the keys and walk out the office. Closing it behind with a soft ‘click!’, you locked the door and walked towards the clubroom where the club members would be practicing for dance. Approaching the door, you hear the music softly playing from the inside and you confusingly look at the door.
Today was a day where all club members are home, resting up before the competition and you sigh to yourself. Who could possibly be borrowing the clubroom at this hour? Overall, this day! There were days to rest for a reason and you thought this club member is fortunate to know that the teacher wasn’t opening it, knowingly she could be strict when it comes to anyone’s well-being. Opening the door, you step inside and you see him. Possibly the most popular club member of the whole club and the one where everyone spoke good about, as you barely heard any negative rumors; the infamous Ten Lee. A foreign student from Thailand and a beauty, as every girl and boy is fawning over him. Honestly, he was a dream in comparison with everyone.
A boy with a passion for dancing but a competitive athlete, somehow outshining in every sport he tries. He is charismatic and easygoing, always melting the ice with others rather easily; he can be quiet at times, but he is always polite and bright whenever spoken to. It was hard to get on his bad side since he was such a likable, confident person. To you, he is the complete opposite.
Despite your presence, he did not stop dancing. He continues on, his sharp gaze hardened with concentration, as he maneuvers through the dance room; his steps are light, his movement fluid and smooth like he was possessed by the gods of dancing. Easily, he captures every beat of the music with his movement, dancing on with passion flaring - he is shining. Silently, you stood at the doorway, fascinated by the way he flows along the contemporary dance; it was breathtaking really.
Suddenly, he stops and his chest is heaving with eyes staring deep into his reflection; there were hints of anger in his very eyes, those passionate flames suddenly burning him up while he stood. Blinking away from the enchantment of Ten, you cleared your throat loud enough for him to hear - “Excuse me…” you spoke up awkwardly, lifting up a hand to wave for his attention. Ten whips his head towards you, “Huh? Oh, I am sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.” He said with a chuckle.
“No, it’s fine…I am just here to lock up the club room.” You say, eyes trailing along his toned body. Sweat glistened on his skin and his chest breathing heavily, despite him catching a quick breather; you furrow your brows in concern, “You should take a break, you must be really tired.” Although it wasn’t your place to interfere, you knew your teacher would lose her shit if one of her best dancers on the team was injured. He laughs, “I should huh? You are right.” He says with a nod and walks over to his bag and picks up his water bottle.
Ten leans down to pick up the bottle, “Before you close up, can I at least finish up this song one more time?” he says while looking at you through the mirror. His reflection staring directly at you in hopes you would not reject his last practice, you frown a bit but you nodded nevertheless; after all, no one can stop a person from reaching perfection. People with an overbearing amount of passion are always bewitched by their own arts, you understood where Ten was coming from. If anything, you are no hypocrite to intervene.
“I’ll be outside-”
“You can stay here, I don’t mind. You can be my audience~” Ten voices out, properly looking at you when facing you. As much as you wanted to deny his request due to not wanting to be a distraction; he seemed confident to not let that happen. You nod your head, quietly moving to the corner of the room near the door and sat down with your backpack dropping down next to you. He hums, walking over to the bluetooth speaker, picking up his phone and replaying the song he abruptly stopped when you first came in; you looked down at your sketchbook, opening it up while you unzipped a pocket to take out a pencil. Flipping to a fresh page, you decide to doodle for the meantime.
Though that was your original plan, your eyes moved away to see Ten dancing once again. Precise yet sharp with bits of elegance once the tempo slows down, he is moving like he was in his own world; you felt like an onlooker, captivated by the spell that was casted upon you unknowingly. He dances on, every fiber of his body flowing with devotion for what he loves most. As an artist, he is a moving masterpiece - any artist’s dream, as every emotion towards the art piece is spiraling with awe.
He is stunning. No, beautiful - a beautiful dream.
Within minutes the dance is over and he ends it gracefully, his eyes directly towards the mirror of his reflection. Then, at you. A smile appears on his lips once meeting your eyes, you are completely awe-struck and you slowly regain consciousness from your trance. Ready to applaud for his hard work, he suddenly collapses and your eyes widen - “Ten!” you panickedly call out, scrambling up onto your feet and the sketchbook tossed away while running over to him. Laying on the floor sprawled out, he began to laugh once you approached him.
“Your face…” He breathes out, obvious panic written over your features. Laughing softly, “I am okay.” He says nonchalantly, sitting up and you watch his face come closer. Instinctively, you lean away but he leans towards you - “How do you like it?” he says, warmth residing in your cheeks with the proximity. “It was…” You start, remaining to be taken aback by his boldness yet in your eyes, he looked like a child awaiting approval from their parents. Catching your breath, “It was stunning. Like…Like a masterpiece.”
What the hell were you saying? What were you doing saying the most cheesy shit? You felt the embarrassment pile up, but you waited for his reaction; he seemed just as surprised by your feedback. He tosses his head back and lets out a laugh, “Really? That is a high compliment from an artist!” he says while flopping back onto the floor. Flustered, you move away from him after knowing he needs no medical assistance; you sit there, getting a glimpse of your reflection of being red.
“Someday, you should show me your drawings.” Ten suddenly says, the request making you glance at him. He turns his head to look at you with a stupid smile on his face, “I showed you my dance before everyone else. It’s only fair, Y/N~” Your name rolled off his tongue and you were surprised he even bothered to remember you. Not most club members remember you yet the most popular who probably sees so many faces everyday, has bothered to remember your name?
The memory of first meeting your best friend is a pleasurable ache, to this day you still feel it. Regardless of the many memories after that particular one, you always feel the warmth plucking your heartstrings every time you recall this one.
Your phone buzzes beside you and you sit up from the hard floor, glancing at the empty page filled sketchbook and scoffing at the sight. You should really start your art project. Seeking out for your buzzing phone, you grab it from the bed beside you and open the text messages from Ten; coincidentally enough, he is blowing up your phone. Unknowingly, you are met with messages of your best friend begging you to pick him up from the party. Worry expresses from you, wondering what could have happened.
Suddenly, Kun’s message pops up.
Qutie Kun Can you pick up Ten? He won’t get in the damn taxi nor won’t he listen to me when I try to bring him back to his dorm.
Please pick him up, he is being an annoying bastard and I am embarrassed.
He is laying on the floor on the verge of throwing up or crying, I am not sure.
He’s drunk btw.
Laughing a bit at the messages from the stressed Kun, you knew he was dealing with a lot of responsibility from Ten being drunk. There are only a few instances where you encountered shit-faced Ten, it was mainly from him competing against the others during a drinking game; usually though, he only did it when it was you and the others drinking. Was the party so boring that he decided to ditch it with the others? Who knows. You wonder what blackmail Yangyang had taken this time.
Getting dressed with a warm jacket to fight off the cold night weather and tugging on a pair of comfortable sweats, you take a plastic bag in case of any mishaps that may occur when dragging Ten back to his dorm. Following the location and telling the taxi driver the situation, he agrees to take you and Ten back to the dorms of the university; you sigh and look out the window of the passing car, the streetlights glowing an orange throughout the streets. Double checking the time, it was only 1 a.m. and you had mistaken the night being much earlier.
Arriving at the house where the party was hosted, you heard the blaring music from the home itself. “Excuse me for a moment.” You say towards the driver, getting out and instantly seeing Ten being manhandled by Yukhei himself; the taller male had thrown him over his shoulder, the smaller male in his grasp whining and occasionally smacking Yukhei’s back. As expected, Yangyang is taking photos with his phone and the flash. Laughter is surrounding your familiar group of friends, a smile appearing when approaching them.
“Here comes Ten’s hero! Are you happy now, brat?” Kun calls out over the music towards the drunken Ten, the others turning towards you as you stand around with them. Greetings of the others are given to you, politely nodding your head to them while noticing two members gone - “Where’s Dejun and Sicheng?” Hendery instantly laughs at the mention of their names while Yangyang smirks. “Dejun is throwing up his guts in the toilet with Lose-Lose being his babysitter. He lost rock paper scissors on who takes care of him,” Yangyang answers back and you nod.
After knowing them for awhile, somehow rock paper scissors means more than a stupid children’s game. “How many did you guys drink?” You ask, looking at Ten to only see his face flushed and looking quite constipated; you wonder if Yukhei’s broad shoulder pushing into his gut is going to make him barf at this very moment. “Not a lot. Dejun drank on an empty stomach and well…Ten decided to drink a couple more than he needed to,” Kun sighs like a distressed parent explaining what his children did to cause such disappointment.
“Have you started on your art project yet?” Hendery asks and you instantly frown upon the mention of it. Kun instantly scolds you, knowing you are procrastinating like your life depended on it - well, maybe if you procrastinate hard enough it will disappear. Hopefully. “I will start on it soon! I just gotta figure out what to draw,” You say with a shrug. Yukhei suddenly points to himself, “Draw me!” he exclaims and you look at him with a raised eyebrow. “I’ll draw you if it's vote based for a grade!” You reply back, laughter erupting among all of you.
“I like it, picasso!” Hendery yells out, patting you on the back. Kun looks towards you, “Have you eaten yet?” He asked and you nodded. “Don’t worry about me, I already had dinner.” You say with a dismissive hand and suddenly the taxi behind you honks, and you glance over your shoulder then back at the others - “Shit, I forgot about him…I’ll take care of him!” You add while pointing at your best friend. Yukhei nods, “I’ll bring him to the car.” He states while you say your goodbye to the others while walking to the car with Yukhei.
You look up at the taller, “So, why are you carrying him?”
“He kept running away. We had to find him for the past 5 minutes before you got here,” Yukhei answers back with a laugh of disbelief. Somehow, his upperclassman is like a child when drunk. Walking up to the car, Yukhei carefully places Ten inside who is somehow still awake to your surprise; you bid your goodbye to the athlete, thanking him for his kindness for handling your best friend’s troublesome behavior. Getting in the car, you apologize to the driver. Sitting next to you, Ten let out incoherent mumbles under his breath while leaning towards you.
His head rests on your shoulder and you look at him, “You drank too much. I brought a plastic bag just in case.” You say while revealing the bag inside your pocket, Ten looking up at you and smiling. He is smiling widely, his eyes creasing like crescent moons had overtaken his round eyes; you chuckle, adoring the cute blush spread on his face. As the two of you return to campus, you pay the driver and help Ten out of the car. “Come on…” you beckon him, dragging him out as he seems too intoxicated to move on his own.
Helping him to his dorm, he drags his feet lazily and leans against you for leverage; you groan, gripping onto his waist tightly while carrying him. “Ten, it would be great if you moved on your own.” You sigh, walking to his dorm complex. His head rests against your shoulder, he sighs loudly - “I missed you…” he softly says, the words causing you to be dumbfounded. What the hell was that? You chuckle, reminding yourself he is drunk and nothing more. “Oh really? We saw each other during lunch today though,” You remind him while supporting him up the stairs.
Cursing in your head, you wished the damn dorm complex was responsible enough to fix the elevator. Ten chuckles, “I know. But, we barely see each other after…I missed you.” He repeats, nudging your shoulder with his head like a feline rubbing themselves against you for attention. You breathe a bit heavily from helping him and you turn to him a bit, “Over the weekend we can hang out, okay?” you say with a smile despite the difficult situation. The two of you just finished one flight of stairs, there are only two more to go!
Ten did not reply, but he goes up the stairs with you like a clumsy newborn deer on ice. You nearly got a heart attack when Ten stumbled a bit further for your comfort. “You know, I had a lot of regrets.” He suddenly says, the two of you reaching the top and you look at him. Eyes glazed over, his expression becoming serious and you could see a tinge of sadness in his eyes. You did not reply, not knowing what to say while you begin the last steps before reaching the end goal.
“I regretted…For not giving them a chance during senior year of highschool…During the beginning of university…It feels like i’ve wasted so much time.” He slurs, his words quiet yet his words carried on to reach you in this isolated room with him. “A chance…?” you question, mainly to yourself while Ten slowly goes up the stairs and you support him from behind. Suddenly, Ten leans against the wall - “I-I like them…No, I love them. But, I was so busy with other things that I didn’t go for it…” he said bitterly, tension evident in his body.
Soon enough, the pieces are coming together and you feel your heart drop by the realization. Ten is in love with someone. Ignoring the pain gradually growing in your chest, you tell him to go up the remaining steps, encouraging him to move away with this topic. Surely, he is a crush to you, but it hurts - it hurts more than it should have.
Ten nodded, slowly going up the steps. A tense silence follows the two of you once reaching the designated floor, you open the door and reach out to guide him however you stopped; you didn’t want to touch him - you were afraid to. Ten walks by you anyway, seeming to be oblivious to your agonizing attempt. Inhaling a deep breath before exhaling shakily, you follow after him. Ten looks at you, “I’m such an idiot right? I should have…I should have had them as mine.” He says with shame.
You looked at him, the guilt reflecting back at you and you held an indescribable feeling of pain. It was excruciating really, especially when you bite back every attempt to fall apart in front of him; you couldn’t do so, it wasn’t right. Ten was never yours to begin with. You force a smile towards him, “There’s always a chance for it. Just do it when you are ready.” You tried your best to comfort him, hoping those words are enough to drop this uncomfortable conversation. Helping him to his dorm room, Ten pats his pockets for his keys and he grumbles - “Help…” he mutters out helplessly. Staring at him, you sigh heavily and pat his pockets for him; you wanted to complain or joke, but it was difficult to. Even if he was right in front of you, you felt further away from him than before, like a dream beyond your reach.
You should have known, anyway - dreams are not meant to be grasped upon.
Finding his keys, you take it and push him aside to unlock his door. Tears welling up in your eyes with your back facing towards him, you wished you were at your own dorm; wishing for every emotion to sweep you off your feet, and simply let you rage with waves of anguish. Pushing his door open, you turn to him - “I am going to go now, okay? You go to sleep and make sure to drink water and shower tomorrow.” You tell him. Unexpectedly, once looking directly at him, the tears you tried to hold back stream down your face.
Surprised, Ten looks at you with worry - “Are you crying?” he asks the most obvious question, but it was an innocent inquiry of bewilderment. You sniffle and instantly lift up your hands to wipe away the tears, “I…I’m fine. Something got in my eyes.” You try to excuse it, run away from this very interaction at this very moment. As you wipe away, you feel warm hands touching your hands and slowly moving them away, you meet eyes with Ten looking hurt. “Don’t cry,” he says while his fingers wipe away at the streaking tears.
Wishing to push him away, he gently holds your face with his hands. “I love you.” He suddenly said, the words overcoming you with confusion and misery; you felt absolutely sick. You couldn’t trust those three words leaving his lips, your best friend…No, your first love is mistaking you for someone else. It has to be - after all, it was the only reasonable explanation due to his intoxicated state. “W-What?” You manage out, Ten staring deeply back at you like you were the only one in the entire world.
Is that how he looks at them? Is this how he looks at the love of his life?
“I love you.” He claims once more, the words weighing heavily in your mind with a painful ache. Before you could push him away, he leaned forward to capture your lips with his own; you stood frozen, unsure what to do. The alcohol lingering on his lips reminds you of the nightmare you are experiencing. You wanted to kiss back, however you came to your senses; you're not the one, not to him at least. Pushing him away, Ten looked at you confused and you felt more tears falling from your face.
“I have to go,” you voice out quietly before moving away and scurrying off. Leaving Ten behind, you heard nothing from him, as silence only follows after you; the silence is enough to let you know that you're not the one he was supposed to kiss or love tonight. You were simply a mistake, not supposed to hear those very words uttering out - your very own love for him crushed with doubt and the bleeding wound of being rejected. You aren’t enough for him.
He is your best friend. Your crush. Though, you know it wasn’t true.
You are nothing in comparison to the dream, who became your very first love.
. . .
Your back and legs ache, stiffly placing down the paintbrush onto the small table next to your wooden easel. Tiredly, you lift up an arm to rub your face against your arm to avoid the paint covered fingers from contaminating your face; you seriously don’t want anything near your eyes and mouth, especially harsh chemicals - everything still hurts, after all. Getting up from the stool, a groan emits from your lips while stretching your aching body, arms and legs - everything cracked, the silence of the spare art room disrupted by obnoxious cracks.
You could seriously pass by as an old person with the sounds leaving your body and lips. Heavily sighing, your gaze lands on the somewhat unfinished painting, the best word to really describe it was ‘almost’ since you needed more layers and a few touch-ups to satisfy the perfection you had towards it. After the incident two days ago, you’ve been avoiding the others and Ten like a plague; it wasn’t exactly easy, considering they are all worried and constantly blowing up your phone with messages from the groupchat.
Speaking of, your device buzzes and you walk over to pick it up - seeing the message of the groupchat you were in with your friends, you open it to see Hendery sending the message and continuing to type.
Chickendery Day 2 of Y/N missing lunch with us because they think we are not cool anymore
I would like to say I love them so much :( they were always so chill and willing to side with us against Kun <3
Djay I miss having to make awkward eye contact while i messily eat
im so happy that they don’t say anything
Ylang Ylang You look like Bella when you eat
stop treating it like they are dead
Chickendery THEY ARE DEAD IN MY HEART, YANGYANG.
Qutie Kun We are eating, put down your phone.
Y/N if you are seeing this, lmk if you need anything :) i can always drop something off if you want anything
Ylang Ylang favoritism at its finest
im going to go missing like y/n to be treated like a king next
Qutie Kun Shut up!
Ylang Ylang say it to my face, im sitting in front of you
good luck with your project y/n!! I know you are really busy
Smiling at the messages, you roll your eyes at the banter; it seems like Yangyang was the one to logically think you were busy with your project rather than blatantly ignoring them. After all, this wasn’t the first time happening - throughout the school years, they knew how dedicated you were to your art pieces. However, you know they find it quite abrupt, as you found no energy to reply to them to avoid the possibility of Ten randomly appearing in the chat to speak to you.
Seeing his name and thinking about him had reminded you of the weight in your chest, you felt like your own heart had shattered that night and was currently scattered. Every piece is heavy for you, having the inability to pick each one and repair yourself; you need time - time to heal from the injury you barely survived with, after that damn heartbreak. You never thought being heartbroken would hurt this badly.
Frowning and placing down your phone, you walk over to the sink in the corner of the room. Turning the knob and letting the rushing water coldly come in contact with your skin, you did your best to scrub off the dry paint marking your hands; cleansing underneath your nails and hands, you finished up with a sigh. You came to realize how you are sighing more than usual. Supposedly, it was reasonable - it feels lonely after ignoring your only friends. After drying your hands, you walk over to your backpack to unzip it and take out the packed lunch you brought.
It wasn’t anything special. In fact, it was a plain nutella sandwich with a bag of chips followed by a bottle of water. It was more of a snack than an actual meal, but you do have a reason for it - you needed to finish up your painting by today, as it takes time for the painted layers to dry before being fully finished. Quietly, you sit down on your stool and unwrap the sandwich to take a bite and turn to look at your artwork.
Near the window you sat, the sunlight glared through the glass and settled on you with a golden glow; the color scheme of your work looking vibrant to the eye, it was pleasing to look at. Even with your sudden heartbreak two days ago, you were able to have inspiration - inspired by the sudden emotions overcoming you, the figures you’ve drawn seemed familiar to you. Funnily enough, you decided to paint the same person who brought such a painful ache in your chest. It was bittersweet.
A dancer underneath the moonlight, a shadow standing still as the figure dances away without a damn worry in the world. It holds a sorrowful tone, the very message of the piece reaching out to you and making your own eyes sting; however, you haven’t cried ever since that day. Every teardrop was drained from you, thus you sat numbly in front of your easel with your nearly finished piece. This painting of emotions fully describes the unwanted feelings you held towards your best friend.
No, first love - it sounded more right this time.
Distracted by your painting, the knock made you jump a bit and you peek over at the door. You wonder if another student is thinking of using this room, regardless you've already told your own professor to occupy the room for the day; you clear your throat, “Come in!” you call out with curiosity wondering on who it could be. The door didn’t open right away, instantly you rise from your seat thinking it might be your professor - maybe he is carrying a box of supplies and is having difficulty in opening the door.
Oh, you wished that was the case.
The door opens to reveal him, the very same boy in your dreams where you wanted to have some sort of love with him. He walks in with hesitance, looking towards you with a wary look on his face; he smiles upon seeing you, but it was a smile unlike any others you’ve seen. He seemed timid. Ten clears his throat, “Sorry to bother you…But, I guessed you would be eating by this time.” He said a bit awkwardly, closing the door behind him and letting the thick silence settle in the room.
Isolated with the tension with him is suffocating, it makes you feel sick. Those feelings you’ve felt previously became intense again, but you weren’t crying; you felt angry really. Were you angry at him or at yourself? Who knows. All you know, it was a better feeling than the heartache you’ve felt for days and woken up with this morning.
“How did you find me?” You ask, your voice cold as though there was a gap between the two of you. Ten continues to smile at you, a nervous habit he had while rubbing the nape of his neck - “You are always cooped up in an art room whenever you are finishing up a project.” He says, the little detail causing you to grip onto your sandwich a bit tighter. He knows so much about you, how the hell could you stop being friends with him?
You calmed down, a sigh leaving you while looking down at your makeshift lunch. “Do you need anything? I am busy right now.” You blatantly tell with a lie, knowing it is lunchtime, you are no hypocrite who always reminds Ten to take breaks when you wouldn’t take one yourself. The smile falls from his lips, his eyes becoming softer, as though every ounce of vulnerability is revealed to you.
“I am sorry about that night…I didn’t know what I was doing. But, I wanted to talk to you about it.” He straightforwardly says, one trait you always liked about him. He was always to the point, even if it was another language; he is trying his best to convey what he wants. Although you admired him for hunting down the elephant stuck in your friendship currently, you knew you needed a clear head. You couldn’t take the chance of talking about it now. You shook your head, “I am sorry but I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
Your reply revealed disappointment on Ten’s face, the raven-head standing there with pursed lips; knowingly, he is biting his tongue in careful consideration. However, it seems like you didn’t expect him to continue speaking about it. “You completely misunderstood that night, I-”
“Misunderstood?!” You loudly exclaim, rudely interrupting him. Tossing the sandwich onto your stool, “I think you are the one misunderstanding. Ten, I told you that I don’t want to talk about this. I am really busy,” You say again, not wanting to ruin the motivation you had for your painting; even if he tries to fix with whatever happened between the two of you, you simply couldn’t stand looking at him. It hurt. For now, you wanted to avoid it at all costs. Ten lets out an inaudible sigh, “More than usual?”
“More than usual, Ten.” You answer back, scoffing at his somewhat sarcastic tone.
“Then make some time for me.” Ten replies back, his eyes nearly pleading as though he was begging for you to listen to him. Somehow, his attempt only made you explode; you knew you were supposed to be sad, but every broken piece in your damn heart is painfully twisting inside you. You needed to be angry. You step forward, “It’s always about you getting whatever you want huh? How many times do I have to fucking repeat myself?” you yell out, the sudden loudness making Ten flinch.
Tears well up in your eyes, “I am trying my damn hardest not to ruin our friendship. I don’t want to lose you…B-But, it hurts…” You admit shakily. Those words lowering, sounding like you are defeated; this constant war of trying to forget about everything, and how the denial you kept before is useless - you are in so much pain because of him. “It hurts to look at you. It hurts to think that you like someone that isn’t me…You’ve always been so bold, why haven’t you confessed to them?! For years, I didn’t know you loved someone else.”
Crying out with tears streaming down your face, your body quivers with every tear escaping. “Why couldn’t this happen before…Happen before I fell in love. It’s not fair,” You manage out while lifting up your arms to wipe away the rushing tears warmly rushing down from your face. Ten stood speechlessly, guilt expressing from his features while he stood before you - he never saw you break like this. Even when you were stressed with piled up work or when you became frustrated whenever things didn’t go your way, you were always trying to pull through; how the hell did he fuck up this badly to make you like this? This one misunderstanding, he felt incredibly stupid for getting drunk and confessing.
Though, it hurt. It hurt how you didn’t believe him.
“Y/N…” he calls out to you gently, approaching you and slowly reaching out but you quickly back away to avoid his touch. Achingly, he stares back at you, wishing to comfort you yet somehow his own intentions are only making it worse. “Listen to me…I was drunk, but it doesn’t mean I was lying. I love you, no one else. There is no one else that I love,” he explains while he refrains from touching you. Treating you like glass, as he believes once he touches you, you would break into a million pieces.
Trying to stabilize your crying, you try to process his words. You? Was it you this whole damn time? Wiping away your tears and sniffling, you look at him - “W-Why?” you ask, this innocent yet heartbreaking question only makes him feel more awful. He gingerly smiles at you, “Do I have to have a reason on why I love you? There are possibly so many things. I regretted not saying it sooner, and I am sorry for that.” He says while you stare back at him, unsure what to say or even do.
You lashed out at him for no reason, but here he was standing before you to only return your feelings with his own - his own love for you. The thought of being loved by Ten Lee is not one you expect, the slow realization only making you stunned; you overreacted and caused a stupid scene from a misunderstanding…How embarrassing.
“Y-You’re not joking right?” You question once again, the distrust evident and Ten nods. “I promise, I am not joking.” He chuckles out, noticing how you’ve calmed down and you try to find any words; as much as you weren’t prepared for a sudden heartbreak but this? You weren’t prepared for this either! You blink several times, recollecting yourself and he smiles while leaning forward. “May I?” he says while lifting up a hand, centimeters away from being gently placed on your cheek. Flustered, you slowly nodded and he placed a hand on your face.
“What can I do just to keep you around, Y/N?”
“H-Huh?” You let out while staring at him with wide eyes, faces inches away from a kiss. Ten’s eyes observe every detail of your red face, the tears long gone and he chuckles - “I love you. I love you so damn much,” he whispers before leaning in to tenderly plant a kiss upon your lips. The emotions from the last kiss are long gone, but simply replaced with warmth; this very feeling of where you are captivated by Ten, once again. Hesitantly, you return the kiss to let him love you and seal those three words with an action filled with honesty.
Pulling away from him, “I…I have to get back to work.” You remind him, remembering the project you had regrettably procrastinated on. He looks at the easel and laughs, turning back to you - “Really?” he says and you nod your head with a small smile. “Really, Ten.” You answer back, your first love nodding his head to only pull away to your dismay. For a brief moment, Ten looks around before grabbing another stool and sitting next to yours; you watch him, confused. “I’ll stay here to keep you company~” He states, crossing his legs and you awkwardly pick up your sandwich to sit down on your stool.
“You don’t have to…”
“I want to. This is our first date~” He playfully replies with, a blush spreading across your cheeks and you laugh. “This is going to be a boring one then…” You express, wondering if Ten is willing to sit for hours until it’s finished. “Think of me as your moral support.” He suggests with a shrug, making you more relaxed in his presence. You nod your head, “Okay then no complaining to me about being bored.” You jokingly say, his laughter answering back to you while you dip your brush in the water.
Sparing one more glance to Ten, you begin to paint once again. Despite your stinging eyes from crying and sniffling occasionally, you began to focus more into the little details to finish the painting.
On the other hand, Ten sits beside you and watches how you maneuver the brush against the painting. Every precise movement creates depth into your painting, he slowly turns to look at you - your eyes intensely focused on the project at hand, he adores how passionate you are. To him, you are one of the few people who understood him the most when it comes to dancing.
The day continues on, hours passing and you finally finish up with the little details on the final layer. You turn to look at Ten, who occasionally reminds you to take a break and would sometimes help in giving you more paint; but, after an hour or so, he got quiet. You looked towards him to see him dozing off, his head hung low with his phone long forgotten in his hand; you laughed while reaching out, shaking him gently to awaken him. With a few shakes, he lifts up his head to look at you and a smile instantly appears on his face.
“Are you finished?” He asks, lifting up his arms to stretch and letting a small moan to relieve the stress straining his body. You nod while looking at the painting, “Yep.” You say proudly, your first love leaning over to look at your painting and he widely smiles. The lights above in the class made his own expression radiant. “I love it. It’s pretty like a ballerina dancing~” he compliments, the words leaving him making you laugh. The same memory being recalled by him made you realize how important that encounter was.
Thankfully, the importance of that memory was never one-sided.
You look at the painting, “Is this the part where I collapse and you panic?” you add with a bright smile of your own. Ten laughs, “No. I have something else in mind.” He said while he leaned forward, lightly bumping his head against yours. You turn to face him, his forehead instantly resting against yours - “I want a kiss.” he remarks, awaiting for your reply to his request. “I love you…” you say quietly, the very words leaving your lips causing your heart to skip a beat. Ten leaned forward to kiss you and against your lips he softly spoke, “I love you too.”
Somehow, the dream you’ve longed for from afar was finally captured. Every thought of being the shadow is diminished, as you pursue this very dream for the sake of love. He is all yours to cherish and love for a possible eternity, the fondness towards him now permanent - your very first love is now yours.
A never ending dream with you now belongs to Ten Lee.
153 notes · View notes
beomcoups · 2 years
Text
-Summertime Sadness II. (m)
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: artist!Ten Lee (NCT/Super M) x reader
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, smut, fluff, lovers to exes au, soulmates au
𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: R (18+)
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: office sex, oral (f. receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, dirty talk, creampie, pregnancy risk, fingering, 
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.5k
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You thought you would never see him again, but that one night showed you that the impossible can be possible. Now, a year later, you two meet again, facing the inevitable truth about your relationship.
𝐀𝐍: I had no plans to write a part two to this. But I had been thinking more, and I started jotting down ideas, and now here I am. I highly encourage you to read part 1 before reading this final part of the story. Thank you @tbzhub​ and @wordycerty​ for looking over this for me ❤.​
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  The summer air greets you warmly when you step outside while digging through your bag for your keys. It’s finally lunchtime, and it doesn’t help that your stomach has been reminding you with grumbles every few minutes. It’s been a long day of meetings and reviewing samples for photoshoots and projects, and you have worked up an appetite. Finally finding your keys, you let yourself into the car and turn on your navigation. You feel a buzz from your phone, and you open it, biting your lips as you read the words on the screen.
Lunch should be here in about ten minutes. I can’t wait to see you. Your mouth curves into a smile as you put the address in your navigation and drive off to your destination. You’re nervous, butterflies fluttering like crazy as you tap your finger on the steering wheel. You rarely feel anything but calm because you usually like masking your emotions and not buckling under pressure. This isn’t an ordinary lunch with a client; you are dining with your ex-boyfriend, Ten. 
It’s been almost a year since you’ve seen him. That night on the beach you spent together is forever engraved in your memories like it happened yesterday. You both agreed to keep up with each other, keeping your promises by texting here and there or commenting on your respective social media. Ten was the greatest love of your love, and seeing his life in pictures and not by his side feels different and harder to grasp than you’d thought. You’d been with him for almost a decade, and breaking up brought pain to your heart that you had never felt. You survived and began living your life again, but after seeing him last Labor Day weekend, it has you thinking of the past and what it could have been. So when he called you and mentioned he was in town and asked you out for lunch, you agreed. Pulling up to the building, you exit your car and walk inside an art gallery with tall glass windows and open space. You are greeted at the door and led to a swanky office. You nod in thanks, sitting in the lounge chair, twiddling your thumbs as you wait for Ten. You’ve been here countless times, staying with him at night while he finishes his sketches or puts together the final details for his exhibits. Sometimes you would help him, getting things organized and use your connections to make his event a considerable turnout. Those were in the early years after college when everything was still green between you. But, man, those were good times. “Hey.” He walks in the door, and if you weren’t sitting down, he’d knock you off your feet. His shoulder-length hair from last summer is cut short, and his golden skin is glowing. He wears a white tee and black joggers, paired with sneakers, which is usually his style. Ten was never the dress-up guy unless he had an event. Nevertheless, he looks hot as hell. “Hi,” you stand up, giving him a hug. His arms wrap around you, the familiar feeling of being secure taking over you. Your body yearns for him, wanting to be overtaken by his embrace, and you quickly break away before you give in. “Y-you look great,” he stammers, opening the wider door.
A food tray follows shortly after, filled with sushi, Pad Thai, and spring rolls. Your stomach growls again, loud enough for Ten to hear, and you couldn’t help but chuckle off your embarrassment. “I take it you're hungry?” He jokes, nudging your shoulder. You roll your eyes playfully and reach for a plate, but Ten moves your hand away, ushering for you to sit down. “You are my guest,” he insists. “Relax, I’ll get you fed.” He hums softly as he loads your plate with Pad Thai and spring rolls, your favorite. You first had it when you were in high school and had dinner with his parents. It was the best thing you had ever tasted. “I would’ve had us eat at a restaurant,” he says. “But I am so busy getting this exhibit together for tomorrow, and I am sitting down just now.” You take the plate from him, setting it down on your lap. “Oh yeah? How is that going? You know, with all the planning and stuff?” Ten sighs, taking a seat at his desk. Behind that golden glow, you see the tiredness between his eyes. He works hard, and you worry if he is pushing himself too hard. “It’s going,” he says. “Everything is going to plan, but it’s like last-minute jitters, I guess.” You saw online that he was hosting his latest exhibit tomorrow night, and you did not have anything to do during that time. Your mind started thinking about what you would wear the second you saw the time. An email shortly after hit your inbox, sending you an RSVP for the exhibit. Of course, you selected yes. “It’s going to go great, Ten,” you encourage him. “You have the best people around you, and nothing has ever gone wrong before.” “Part of that is because you were there,” Ten says softly. “You always made sure everything was perfect.” You look down, smiling softly and batting your eyes to avoid misty eyes. He was constantly showering you with praises and appreciating you whenever he could. Of course, you have people you work with and bosses you answer to that say the same things, but it means different when it comes from Ten. You know it comes out of a place of love. “So,” he clears his throat. “Are you going to be there?” You nod as you take a bite out of the spring roll. “Of course. I got the rsvp.” You talk more about what you have been up to and catch up with each other’s families. Ten is a family-oriented guy and comes from wealthy art dealers. You wouldn’t know if you hung out with him because he never flaunted his money or status. He preferred to be low-key, and his expensive taste went towards his art and his home. Those were one of the many reasons why you fell in love with him. Knock Knock! “Come in.” A woman walks in, wearing a tight skirt and white button shirt, her hair styled into a bun. Her shoes are the latest off the runway, making you wonder how an assistant got those shoes so quickly. She nods your way and smiles warmly at Ten, handing him an iPad, her focus 100% on him. “Everything is all set for tomorrow,” her voice is sugary sweet. “We just need your signatures.” You eat quietly as he works with this person, the excellent taste of the food keeping you busy. Then, your phone buzzes, and a text from your boss asks about the latest concept for an upcoming photo shoot. You answer quickly, not noticing that the woman has left the room, and you two are alone again. “Work never stops, huh?” Ten’s voice cuts through your thoughts. 
“Ah,” you chuckle. “Yeah, it’s never a dull moment when you are in charge.” You stare at each other for a moment, an awkward silence between you. There’s so much to say to him, but you don’t want to at the same time. You want to confess your feelings to him and apologize for the fight you had that broke you up. You kick yourself every day for not stopping him when he left the beach house last summer. “It feels like old times,” Ten speaks up. “Us being together, working on our projects. It’s like nothing changed.” If only that were true. 
“Yeah,” you respond softly. “I see what you mean.” Your phone buzzes again; your boss sending you another message about the shoot. You look at the time and realize you have to return to your office to finish your work if you want to have an easy day tomorrow. “I have to go,” you sigh. “My boss is on my ass about this shoot, and he’s asking me about things I need to be at work to look at.” You get up, gathering your things and Ten approaches you, touching your hand. “It means a lot to me that you are coming tomorrow,” he confesses. “I wish our situation was different, but it’s better than losing you altogether.” You nod in agreement, staring into his small brown eyes. Your pinky interlocks with his, a small gesture of love that said you felt everything he did without saying a word. You know each other better than anyone else, and right now, you are sure he wants a kiss as bad as you do. “Ten, I-” There’s a knock on the door, and his assistant returns, reminding him of his upcoming meeting. Her eyes dart to your finger with his, and though she played it off well, a hint of green jealousy flashes in her eyes. It doesn’t give you the pleasure that she feels that way, but you don’t feel bad about it either. You are going to get Ten back, whatever it takes.
You slowly loosen your grasp from his, excusing yourself as you let him finish his business. You send him a quick text, letting you know you will see him tomorrow, the weight of your feelings heavier on your heart than before. 
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You stare at yourself in the mirror, flattening your dress, so it does not get wrinkled. You are wearing a rose champagne-colored dress, showing off your tanned shoulders and wrapped in a perfect bow. You accessorize with a small clutch, your diamond necklace, and stilettos completing your look. You wear your hair down, partly because Ten loved it when you wore it that way, saying to you once, “it brings out your eyes that can see into my heart.” What a romantic that guy is. “Are you ready?” a voice calls from downstairs. You asked your best friend Irene to come with you, not because you wouldn’t know anyone there, but for moral support. She knows about your feelings for Ten and has encouraged you to tell him about how you feel. “Yeah,” you take one last look at yourself before leaving your bedroom. Irene meets you at the door, wearing a deep red velvet dress paired with chandelier diamond earrings and a matching clutch. You two are a dynamic duo when you go out, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. “You… look hot,” Irene’s in awe as she walks with you down the steps. “Thank you,” you reply, nervously playing with your hands. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.” “Well, let’s not do that,” Irene advises, rubbing your shoulders. “It’s going to be okay. What’s the worse that’s going to happen?” “He could say no and tell me to fuck off,” you pout. Irene rolls her eyes and nudges you out the door, locking it behind her. 
“You are dramatic. Ten would never do that to you.” Deep down, you know she is right. Ten has never been cruel to you in that way, and your thoughts come from a fear of rejection. The car ride was silent; the trip to the gallery seemed shorter than when you came yesterday. You’re lost in your thoughts, replaying a scenario where you confess your feelings to him. God, being in love can fucking suck sometimes. “We’re here,” Irene sings, pulling into a parking space. You take your time walking into the building, noticing the buzz of people coming in to admire his work. After taking a glass of champagne, you swallow a mouthful to calm your nerves while you look for Ten. You wander slowly, observing the art hung in frames. You can feel his emotion in each piece, from the vibrant colors to the shades of blue. It felt like you were looking at different stories, makings of what makes him who he is. “Hey,” you feel a hand touch your side. “I’m glad you came.” Ten is beside you, wearing a peach-colored suit with a white shirt underneath, exhibiting his body and looking very expensive. You bite your lip and look at him once over before leaning in for a hug. “Looking good as always,” you grin, your heart beating a mile per minute. “Says the goddess,” he smiles softly. “We are kind of matching.” You chuckle at the similarity, returning your focus back to his painting. “This painting,” you point around. “All of this; It’s fantastic. I’m really proud of you.” “Thank you,” he pauses. “I have one  more piece I am revealing in a few minutes. I need to go get ready.” Ten leans in, kissing you on the cheek before walking to his assistant. You look over at Irene, who raises her eyebrows, and you playfully wave her over. Ten’s lips touching your skin made you feel butterflies in your stomach that you hadn’t felt in a long time. Being around him feels right, like you were made for him. “Attention, everyone. The artist Ten Lee is ready to present his work.” The room's sound becomes silent as Ten steps in front of a portrait covered by a curtain. He is jingling his wrist, a sign that only you know, which means he's nervous. “Thank you all for coming,” he begins. “I’ve been working on this piece for almost a year, and it means a lot to me. It represents a time, a moment that I had with someone I care about, and the ending of a chapter. I’ve been thinking about that night ever since, and if I could turn back time and make things different, to make it last forever, I would. But since I can’t do that, I turned it into this piece I can look at for the rest of my life. So here it is: Summertime Sadness.” Ten pulls the curtain off the canvas, revealing a beautifully dry brushed painting of a woman in red at a beach, looking towards the ocean. Chills run down your spine as you recognize the dress, hair, and moon's appearance that night. Ten made a painting about you. The cameras are clicking away as people around you rave about his work, calling it the best thing he has created. You bite your lip, trying to hold back tears, your heart feeling like it's beating out of your chest. Ten has done many things to show that he cares, but this tops everything he’s done. You gaze at each other, and he smiles softly, motioning for you to follow him. He takes you back to his office, walking you in and locking the door behind him. 
“Listen, I know you hate surprises, and I’m sorry–” “Ten,” you interrupt him. “I love you, okay? I love you, I am in love with you, and I will be for the rest of my life. Please, shut up and kiss me already.” He wastes no time kissing you hungrily, wiping away your tears, and shoving papers off of his desk. You hop on, eagerly tugging at his belt until it’s undone, pushing his pants down past his hips. His hands travel dangerously to your legs, hiking up your dress above your ass and pulling your panties to the side. His thumb rubs against your clit, a low moan escaping your lips. “I miss you,” he confesses in between kisses. “I love you, and I’m sorry.”
Ten leaves you with one last lingering kiss before getting on his knees, eyeing your wet heat. He pulls you closer to him, tearing off your panties completely before diving in. Your body goes into overdrive, your fingers clutching his hair as he sucks on your clit and eats you like it was his last meal on Earth. You would’ve killed to have him in between your legs a week ago, and here you are, about to cum in his mouth. “Fuck, baby, you taste so good,” he hums on your clit. “All nice and juicy just for me.” He slips two digits inside you, his expression dark and lustful as he pumps you at a slow, menacing pace. Ten stands up, kissing you voraciously, his pants falling to his ankles. He is as close to you as he can be, but you want him on your skin. You want to be overtaken by him and fucked senseless to make up for the lost time. The hard bulge poking out of his briefs? You need that inside of you. Now. “God, Ten,” ravenous moans escape your lips. “I need you. I want you so fucking bad—” You didn't have to say another word. He snatches his fingers out of you and pulls out his cock instead. Hard, dripping with pre-cum, like sweet honey, he uses it to lubricate himself before lining up at your entrance; slowly, he enters you, with sweet satisfaction you both feel as he inserts himself deeper into your tight hole. His fingers dig into your side as he thrusts into you, his animalistic movements forcing you to hold on to him tightly. “This sweet pussy will always be mine,” Ten grits his teeth. “Nobody can love you or fuck you like I can. Who has you taking this fat dick with a hundred people just down the hall? Who has your legs spread and pussy gushing all over his cock and desk?” Your moans turn into screams, with him muffling your mouth with his fingers as pleasure washes over you. You gaze at each other, sweat dripping down his forehead as he fucks you harder, the desk shifting back against the bookshelf. The coil in your stomach snaps, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your release comes fast and heavy. “Yes, baby,” he whispers. “Come for me. Give it all to me.” Your hands instinctively squeeze your nipples through your dress, and your legs spasm as he fucks you deeper. His breathing is labored, and he gets sloppy, lifting you up and holding you as he thrusts up. “I’m gonna cum inside of you, okay?” he moans. “I’m going to fill your cunt with my load, and we will deal with the consequences later.” At this point, you don’t care. You want to be filled with his seed, your heart swelling with joy and gratitude that you got to feel him again. Ten lets out a loud groan, his load spurting inside you and dripping between your folds. He kisses you delicately this time, the rare link people rarely find with others, felt in the office bringing you together as one. “I want us to be together again,” he declares. “Really?” You laugh between pants for air. “I think I got the idea.” He kisses you once more before pulling out of you, laying you gently on the desk. He reaches into his desk, grabs a packet of wipes, and helps you get clean. You adjust your dress and hair, not wanting to give anyone the idea that you got railed at a photo exhibit. Finally, Ten adjusts himself, and you watch him with adoration. “I love you, Ten,” you breathe. “I’ve always been in love with you. This connection, you and I, I don’t want with anyone else, and there has been no one else but you. I’ve been with you since we were kids; you are all I’ve known for the past seven years. I don’t know where we go from here to make this work, but I miss you, and I can’t go another year without—” His lips are pressed against yours, tears collectively falling down each other’s faces. KNOCK! KNOCK! “Ten,” his assistant’s voice booms through the door. “Are you okay in there?” You look at each other, bursting into laughter, your body naturally falling into his arms. He opens the door to his shocked assistant, walking out of the office with your hand holding his. “I’m okay. Just getting my girl back, that’s all.”
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You married him. You and Ten said your vows at your house in the Hamptons two weeks after his exhibit. You agreed that you loved each other and would never part again, so why wait forever when it could start now?
“You may now kiss the bride.” You have had plenty of kisses with Ten, but this felt different. Kissing him as his wife had a new ring to it, a promise of the life you two would always have with each other. “Congratulations, you two!” your best friend Irene screams. “You finally did it!” It was a small ceremony, with aside from Irene, your parents and siblings were the only people you wanted there. He wore a linen suit, and you wore a white sundress, perfectly matching his. Ten wanted something small because he wanted to go on a month-long honeymoon to make up for the two years that were wasted being apart. You couldn’t agree with him more. You partied into the night and made love outside on the beach when everyone left, not caring if anyone walked by and saw you. Like he said, making up for the lost time. You stayed up and watched the sunrise, knowing you had a flight to take in the afternoon. “I love you, baby,” you beam at him. “I love you more, princess,” he kisses your temple, holding you close. Being in his arms felt right; the summertime sadness you felt in your heart finally disappeared.
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neomujinjja · 1 month
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Losing you
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Pairing: Non-Idol! Ten x reader
Genre: Angst, No Comfort(?)
Warning: Not Edited, cheating(?)*, broken relationship, feelings of annoyance, lots of mentions of: breaking up & tears, use of the sentence 'just be a man', use of the word 'god' (non-religious usage), ten says sorry a few times, reader might come off as cold (it's an act!)
Synopsis: You know that your relationship with your boyfriend is in trouble but you didn't realize how unsalvageable it is. And you've got one last decision, stubbornly hold on or let him go...what's your choice?
Note: This was first inspired by Ariana Grande's One Last Time, cause it plays several times during my shift. *so i don't go into detail about what exactly happened, leaving it up to your interpretation, and if you consider it cheating.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
A text tone caught your attention, but you see nothing on your screen. You look over to the phone, which belonged to your boyfriend, on the table.
Czennie
When are you going to tell Y/N?
You scrunched your face in confusion. You didn't know who this person was and what Ten would have to tell you. Another text came in, your heart dropping to your stomach as you read it.
Czennie
I like you and you like me. So what's the hold up?
You drop the phone onto the couch. You knew that your relationship with Ten wasn't the same anymore. You didn't feel sadness or hurt at the information. Only numbness, you knew that the two of you had grown distant lately. The relationship had changed; often times either ignoring or arguing with each other. But you didn't think he had gain feelings for someone new.
~
You watched while sipping on your tea as Ten walked into the kitchen. His blond hair still slightly wet from his shower. The male doesn't say anything as he slips past you. Before he would have put his hand on your waist and teased you. "Do you have any plans today?" you ask, trying to be casual, as you took another sip from your mug. Ten turned his head, an incredulous look on his face. He scanned you before answering.
"No...why?" He was hesitant and his voice full of suspicion.
"Really? No plans at all, not even later tonight?"
Ten only shook his head, his body now fully facing you. Leaning with the hands behind him onto the counter space. "Good. Meet me at The Vision at 6" you told the male as you placed your now empty mug into the sink. You walked into the bedroom, grabbing some clothes and bath necessities into a backpack. You'd find a day to come back for the rest of your things another day. "I'm going to Wei's but I'll be waiting for you outside" you said, not looking in Ten's direction, as you slipped into a pair of shoes. While waiting for the male to get out after the text, you had messaged your friend asking to stay at theirs until you got yourself sorted. Luckily they had agreed, in turn allowing you to escape from an awkward situation.
-
You stood outside The Vision; the setting of your first date with Ten, and now the last. You had thought it would be fitting that the relationship ended in the same place that it essentially started. Ten walked up to you, he was wearing white tank under a mesh top with jeans. "So what are we doing here?" he asked, crossing his arms and quirking his eyebrow. You could tell that he was now annoyed; it made you wonder if his new toy had contacted him since you left. But you kept your thoughts to yourself, anything else would ruin what you had planned. Instead you just scoffed and turn to walk inside the restaurant.
"Follow me" you said, looking back at the blond male with a smirk. The last thing you saw before you turned away was Ten rolling his eyes. Once sat the two ordered before falling into silence. You didn't care to try breaking it over the course of your last meal together, only speaking to the waiter when they came over. The two of you must have looked weird to the wait staff and other customers.
"If you wanted to play the silent game then we could have done that in the comfort of our home" Ten harshly whispered to you, leaning over the table so that no one surrounding the table could hear. It was probably the closest that he had gotten to you in who knows how long. You couldn't even properly remember the last time that you shared a kiss with your boyfriend.
"That's not the reason why we're here" you plainly replied to the male. Leaning into the back of your seat and looking over your nails. Then you looked back up into Ten's face, making piercing contact with his eyes.
"Then why?" Once again his teeth were gritted, his annoyance seeming to grow more as the night continued to play out.
"Well it's to my belief that you actually have something that you need to tell me."
"What?" Ten's face regained his confusion from earlier. That either means he hadn't seen the messages from this whoever or he was acting. Though you weren't sure the second reason made sense as there was no reason to keep pretending to love you.
"Yeah...I saw the messages from your new little thing. So I'm allowing you the opportunity to tell me yourself, last chance." You watched as Ten leaned back in shock at your words. All the color draining from his face and his hand stressfully running through his hair. He mummered curses under his breath before leaning in again, albeit not as close as the previous time.
"Y/N, you got to believe me. I didn't mean for this-"
"I don't care for your excuses. Honestly this fate probably wasn't far from happening for us. Just be a man and tell me" you interrupted the male from what was possibly the start of a long ramble. Of course while you were putting on a tougher act than how you felt, you didn't want to hear his shitty excuses. Not now, not ever. What you wanted was for the man to own up to what was happening, give you one last bit of respect for you and for your relationship.
"Y/N.." Ten trailed, his eyes not meeting yours and it seemed as though he was fidgeting with his fingers. You just rolled your eyes as he dragged this out. Did you not even deserve a break up from the person who no longer loved you? Was it going to be up to you to officially end this relationship? Was Ten ever going to inform you about his dissolved feelings or was he planning on cheating on you with someone else?
"God. You can't even do it while I'm giving you the chance. Well then-" You started as you got up from your seat with vigor. Ten grabbed your forearm, stopping you from moving as he lightly trembled.
"Y/N I'm so sorry. So sorry" his voice cracked and his shaking grew as you could tell he was holding back tears. Ten looked up into yours, his glistening from said unshed tears; you fought against the ones pricking your own to keep up the demeanor you've put up. "I'm a bad guy and I should have done this some time before. I'm sorry you found out the way you did and I don't blame you if you hate me" he continued as he stood up himself. Your fore arm was still in his grip, rooting you to the spot that you stood. Wrapping you up in his arms, you shared the most physical interaction with Ten in what was at least 5 months, in a hug. "Let's break up." You nodded as you buried your face into his shoulder, the tears you tried fighting escaping and wetting his shoulder. The two of you stood in a hug, where everyone with seeing vision watched with confusion and weird faces, for several minutes. When you separated, you wiped your face from the wet trails on your cheeks. You noticed that Ten hadn't cried and his eyes were threatening to breach his waterline.
"Thank you."
"It's the last thing I can do for you."
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jaminthemiddle · 4 months
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🐱 TEN MASTERLIST 🐱
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✧ STORIES BY: JAMINTHEMIDDLE ✧
NCT MAIN MASTERLIST
»»-----☄. *. ⋆--------𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪--------☄. *. ⋆-----««
🩷 - FLUFF
🔥 - SMUT
🙇 - ANGST
»»-----☄. *. ⋆--------𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪--------☄. *. ⋆-----««
NO STORIES YET
»»-----☄. *. ⋆--------����ꨄ︎𓆪--------☄. *. ⋆-----««
TAEIL | JOHNNY | TAEYONG | YUTA | KUN | DOYOUNG | TEN | JAEHYUN | WINWIN | JUNGWOO | MARK | XIAOJUN | HENDERY | RENJUN | JENO | HAECHAN | JAEMIN | YANGYANG | CHENLE | JISUNG
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give-seconds · 1 year
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Kiss Me Like We’ll Never Have Sex
Summary: When you use Johnny and Ten’s shared computer to send an email, you see that one of the boys is researching rings. You automatically assume it is Johnny's, but when the truth comes out, you have to tell Ten some of the insecurities you hold in the relationship.
Pairing: Ten x female asexual reader, established relationship
Genre: Angst, fluff. 
Warnings: mentions of sex but not mentions of past sex (if that makes sense). Not a warning but we all deserve someone like Ten in our life 
Word count: 3.9k
I wrote this and meant to get it out for asexual awareness week but I only had the idea to make it for ace week the last two days. So I’m a few days late!! Thank you to @pastelsicheng for proofreading this for me <3
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“Is someone planning on proposing soon?”
Ten feels his heart stop. How did you know? Did you find the ring? He thought he had hidden it well. How was he supposed to know you would look through his safe? How did you even know about the safe?
“I don’t - what do you mean?” he stutters, placing his arm around you. He inwardly facepalms at how nervous he sounds. If you didn’t suspect anything before, you’d sure be suspicious now.
“Johnny– is he proposing to his girlfriend soon?”
He breathes a sigh of relief. Thank god you had your oblivious moments.
“I don’t know. Why do you ask?”
“Well, the other day, while I was waiting for you to get back with the food, I remembered I had to email my professor and ask him about that abroad program. And I knew if I waited, I would forget. So I asked Johnny if I could use your guys’ computer, and when I opened it, I saw the search history. He was looking at engagement rings and how to pick the right one. Has he not mentioned anything to you about this? I thought best friends, especially ones that are roommates, told each other everything.”
Screw search history and screw Johnny’s once brilliant idea of only getting one computer to share. “Oh no, not that I’m aware of. Maybe he’s just waiting until he actually has the ring?”
“Okay, but when he does purpose, you have to secure me a position as one of the bridesmaids. As the future best man, it would be embarrassing if your girlfriend wasn’t one of the bridesmaids.”
Ten is thankful you aren’t considering the truth—that all the research was done by him to pick a ring for you.
“Yeah, of course. But there’s no guarantee I’ll be the best man.”
You laugh, lightly slapping his arm. “Don’t shut yourself down like that. Of course, you are going to be the best man. Johnny loves you.”
He snorts. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I am pretty great. Who wouldn’t want me to be their best man?”
“That’s the mindset. Now, shall we get this movie party started?”
“Johnny!” you call, running to catch up with him.
He smiles, stopping in his place to let you catch up. “Hey, y/n, how are you?”
“Pretty good, pretty good. So, any exciting news you want to tell your best friend-in-law?”
“Hate to break it to you, but I don’t think that is a real thing. And if it were a real thing, then I think you would need to be married to Ten.”
“Ah,” you tilt your head back dramatically, bringing your hand up to point at him, hoping to convince him you had caught him in the act. “Interesting choice of word. Married.”
He scrunches his face, lightly pushing down on your hand to lower it. “Okay, weirdo, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but it seems like you do. So why don’t you clue me in?”
“Look, John—”
“Johnny.”
“—John, you don’t need to play dumb with me.” You bring your left hand up to wiggle your ring finger. “I know everything.”
He laughs, grabbing your hand to pull you back into a walking pace. “I have class in like five minutes, and you’re not making any sense. So either start making sense or hit the road.”
You click your tongue, dramatically pulling your hand back. “Fine, be that way. And to think, I was starting to like you, John.”
“It’s Johnny. And I’ll see you later, crazy.”
“Can you believe it?” you announce, opening the door to Ten and Johnny’s apartment. Ten jumps, nervously shoving his phone into his back pocket. When he woke up this morning and decided today was the day to propose, he decided he would do it at the place you had your first date. He was just about to text you to meet him there, the ring already in his sweatshirt pocket, when you entered the apartment. “Johnny still won’t admit he’s planning on proposing.”
“Hey, great timing. I was just about to text you. How do you know this?”
“I passed him on my way here.” You speak with your back turned to him, opening a cupboard to grab a drinking glass. “I waved my ring finger in his face and everything! Why won’t he just admit it to me? I mean, I know I’m just your girlfriend to him, but I’ve known him since before you two even met. We did go to the same high school, after all. And sure, we didn’t become friends until after we started dating, but still! The fact I knew him in high school has to mean something.”
“Maybe he just wants it to be a surprise for everyone involved. I mean, what if she says no? That would be a hard thing to tell people who knew.” He manages what he thinks is a coherent reply despite still panicking from your sudden intrusion into his home. He closes his eyes, taking a quick breath to calm his nerves. Thankfully, you don’t know he is voicing his own concerns, but the stress that comes with sharing his feelings still lingers.
You nod your head, taking a thoughtful sip of your water. “Yeah, that could be it. But I clearly already know! It bugs me that he won’t just fess up.”
He shrugs. “We will never understand the mind of that man.”
You look at him, glass resting against your mouth. He tries to meet your eyes, knowing it will come off suspicious if he can’t. Try as he might, he finds his line of vision drifting to the wall behind you.
“Are you okay?” you finally ask, and he hears the clink of the glass as you set it on the counter. “You seem a bit jittery.”
“Yeah, I’m okay,”
“Are you sure? You know you can talk to me. Is it annoying that I keep bringing up this Johnny and ring thing?”
He shakes his head. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m just a little nervous today, I guess.”
Your eyebrows furrow and you cross your arms as you lean back against the counter. “Do you know why?”
He chuckles, stuffing his hands in his pocket. He feels the ring box, finding comfort in knowing it is still there. “Yeah, I have an idea. But can I talk to you about it?”
You nod your head, pushing yourself off the counter. “Yeah, of course.”
He motions for you to walk to the living room, following behind you slowly. He mentally throws out the plan of giving the ring to the server and having them place it on the plate for you to see. He has a new plan: propose to you in his apartment.
Taking a seat on the couch cross-legged, you turn your body sideways so your right shoulder rests against the back of the couch. You look up at him, patting the spot in front of you as a motion for Ten to sit—tilting your head to the side as he just stares back at you, rocking on his feet.
Ten takes a deep breath, and you watch confusedly as he lowers himself to the ground—realization and dread floods over you as he pulls out a velvet box. You shake your head, muttering a ‘no.’
“Y/n?” You can hear the hurt in his voice, but you can’t tear your eyes away from the closed box in his hand, wishing it to magically disappear.
“I- Ten, I really want to say yes, but I don’t think I should.”
He chuckles nervously, pushing himself up from the ground and setting the box on the coffee table. You follow his hand as he sets it down, eyes leaving the box only when you feel the couch dip under his weight.
“What do you mean?”
You sigh, fiddling with your hands nervously. “I mean, everything about it would fail. First, there is the fact that my parents are divorced, so the likelihood of me getting divorced jumps to like fifty percent or higher. Then there is the fact that we’re not even done with our undergrad yet. Weddings are so expensive and adding to the fact that we’re so young, that is two bad factors to start off a marriage: debt and being young. Did you know that getting married too young also increases your chances of divorce?”
“Why do you know so many facts about divorce?”
You’re thankful that despite the anxiety surrounding the situation, his usual humor is still intact. It reminds you that even when things are slightly awkward between each other, you can still be a good couple.  
“I wrote a paper on divorce. But Ten, don’t those things scare you?”
“‘Y/n, we don’t need to get married tomorrow. It can happen years down the line.” He leans forward, grabbing both your hands. “All I know is I can’t imagine my life without you. And with you studying abroad next year—not that I’m worried about you leaving me—I feel like you’re going somewhere in life. I want to be there for you, and what better way than to get engaged? And if it scares you, you can call this a promise ring.”
“But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m really likely to get divorced. I love you so much, and I don’t want to get divorced from you. You matter too much to me.”
“I love you too,” he repeats, and you can feel the sincerity behind the words. “So what if the statistics say that you’re going to get divorced? I don’t want to get divorced either, but if we do, then it wasn’t meant to be. Your parents are much happier after the divorce, so you know it can be a good thing. Also, what is the other option? Not getting married? You’ll have to face these options eventually. I mean, you want to get married, right? Because if you don’t, then this is a completely different conversation.”
You shake your head, pulling away one of your hands to press it against your forehead. “No, no, I want to get married. I just, I really love the idea of not getting a divorce. I know it isn’t bad, and I know it can be good. I just want to be one of the couples who make it through to the end.”
He smiles. “Yes, and I do too. I promise that once—if—we get married, the communication will not dry up. I will work with you through every fight and every problem.”
“Yeah, but Ten, there is something else.”
He nods his head, silently letting you know to continue. You pull your other hand away and slightly move back to put some distance between you two. You notice the slight hurt that flashes across his face, and you wish you could make it better. The weight of the two words you need to say makes being so close to him too hard, and you feel guilty even touching him.
“I’m asexual.”
He gives you a few seconds to continue, but once it becomes obvious you won’t he chuckles. “Yeah, I know.”
You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “No, I don’t think you understand. I mean, you have been really nice about this for the past two and a half years, but could you really go the rest of your life without sex? I mean, maybe I’ll get to a place where I would be okay with it, but as of right now, the idea of it is just repulsive. I don’t want you to end up hating me. Because I love you so, so much, and the idea of you leaving me because I can’t give you something you want breaks my heart, Ten.”
“Sweetheart, no. I understand what this means, and I’m okay if you never get to that point. I don’t want to have sex with you if you don’t want it, even if you say you’re comfortable with it. I’m fine with how we’ve been going these past few years, and if it means I can spend the rest of my life with you, then it is worth it.”
“But for ten years? Twenty years? Ten, I know I’m repeating myself, but I can’t lose you because of this. You know this means we wouldn’t have kids, right? I mean, we could use a surrogate, but that kid would have none of my DNA. Which I am fine with, and I have never wanted kids of my own. I always imagined myself adopting. But is that okay with you?”
“Yeah, I know that. And honestly, I never cared about how I get kids—I just know I want some. Kids are a way to give my life some meaning; whether it’s through adoption or surrogacy, it doesn’t matter. Because we will raise them together, and they will be our kids.”
You tilt your head back, fanning your eyes. “Can I say something?”
“Yeah, of course, you can.”
“I hate this part of myself,” you laugh painfully and refuse to meet his eyes, afraid of seeing pity. You’ve never voiced your opinion on your asexuality before, and it hurts more than you thought it would to say out loud. “I have tried my entire life to be normal, and then I find this out about myself, and it makes me so different. And I know this isn’t fair, and I know life isn’t fair, but I like to think I have been a very nice person. Why can’t my life be normal? I feel like I am owed that, don’t you? Because let me tell you, high school was when I realized I was ace, but coming here to college is what really wrecked me. People were finally allowed to have sex and talk about sex and have it be normal. That’s when it hit me that I’m really truly different. Sometimes I can forget about it, but it only takes one conversation, or I only have to watch a movie or an episode of TV, and I’m reminded that I am asexual. I hate it, Ten, I really hate it sometimes, and I wish nothing more than to change that about me.”
“Hey, look at me.” You feel the tears well behind your eyes, and you force yourself to look up at your boyfriend. “Even if I could, I wouldn’t change anything about you. Your asexuality—” you snort, bringing your eyes back to the couch below you, hating how it sounds coming from him “—has made you who you are. If you change your asexuality, then you risk changing everything about yourself. Now, I love you for you, and if you weren’t ace, then I don’t think I would love you.”
You look up at him, his words enough to cause the tears to fall. You quickly wipe your eyes, hoping the action will stop the tears. What you told him is true—sometimes you hate this part of your identity. Before you met Ten, you thought you would never find someone who would be okay with not having sex. With your friends talking about how much they wanted to have sex or how good it felt after, you quickly began to feel alienated from them.
During your three years at university, you have only met three other people on the asexuality spectrum; only one of them is the same as you. Even though you had them, you were never able to form a close friendship with them, leaving you back at square one and feeling increasingly lonely. One day, after a meeting with the school’s LGBTQ+ club when you were feeling particularly isolated, you bumped into Ten while losing yourself in the changing leaves.
“Oh, hey, y/n,” he greets, bending down to pick up the book he dropped.
You weakly smile at him, not in the mood to converse. “Hey, Ten.”
“How do you think you did on that test?”
You sigh, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. “I think I did okay.”
He nods his head, looking down to brush off the book cover. “That’s good. Hey, do you think we could have breakfast together tomorrow before class?”
You nod your head, not thinking much of the offer. “Yeah, that sounds good. I normally sit alone since none of my friends want to wake up that early, so it would be nice to have some company.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I don’t blame them. If I didn’t have an eight A.M. class, I wouldn’t be waking up at seven either. So I’ll see you tomorrow?”
As you groggily got ready for the day the next morning, you remembered your agreement from the night before. You don’t know why he wanted to eat with you now, halfway through the semester and having barely spoken a word to each other, but the possibility of making a new friend excited you. Becoming Ten’s friend was your goal at the beginning of the semester; the fact he actually seemed interested in the class drew you to him. As the semester dragged on, however, you realized you didn’t have the confidence to start a conversation with him—despite the fact he had started a handful with you and sat in the seat right next to you.
After that meal, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, you had breakfast together. It became an unspoken agreement that you would both show up, and with the new guaranteed routine, you found yourself looking forward to those mornings. It was refreshing to have someone who didn’t remind you that you were different and that seemed to like you for you.
When the semester break approached, and your roommate went home, leaving you all by yourself, you and Ten naturally grew closer. A week later, he asked you on your first date.
“I really love you, but I’m also really scared. I’m scared you’ll realize that I’m broken.”
“Honey, we’re all broken.” He smiles, and you want to mirror the action, but you stop yourself before you can fully commit, not feeling like you can. “I have yet to meet an unbroken person. And honestly, I think people can be perfect because they are broken. Our broken parts—which your asexuality is not—are what make us perfect. So don’t worry, y/n. I won’t leave you because you think you are broken.”
You feel the tears stream down your cheeks once again. You want to say yes, and you want to get married, but the fear that Ten will grow to hate you has too strong a grip. The anxiety surrounding past relationships unsurprisingly followed you into your relationship with Ten. But never before had they been talked about and confronted together. Before, it was always you trying to cope with the anxiety surrounding your asexuality alone. Ten’s confirmation that your sexuality is not a flaw is everything you never knew you needed.
“Hey, you don’t have to say yes if you’re not ready. If you say yes, I want it to be because you want to and not because you feel you need to in order to keep me. If you say no, we’re still going to be a couple. But y/n, sometimes we need to take risks and trust other people. I’m asking you to trust that I will not get bored of you and that I love you enough to be okay with never having sex with you. Because I know I might not get to, and I am one hundred percent okay with that.”
You look at him, hands clasped over your mouth. If you learned anything from past relationships—most of which lasted only three months before the other person realized they wanted to be with someone “less complicated”— is that sex matters to people. At the start of your relationship with Ten, you thought it was only a fleeting thing; after all, despite Ten’s patience with you, why would he be any different? You assumed, like the other people before him, he would grow impatient with you for not physically wanting to have sex with him and end up leaving you. Then before you knew it, six months had passed, and he was still with you. He would stay up with you late into the night whenever your insecurities about your relationship would come up— whether it be your asexuality or the thought that he could find someone better. Two and a half years later and he is still here. It is the love you dreamed about having ever since you were a little girl.
You reach out slowly with one hand to hold one side of his face. “I can’t believe how beautiful you are.”
He chuckles, leaning into your hand. “It’s the face wash you bought me when you went home. I swear that stuff is a lifesaver.”
You smile, shaking your head in disagreement. “I mean you as a whole. Yes, your face is beautiful, but I mean your personality. You are the most beautiful person I have ever met, and I can’t believe you’re settling for me. I’m just so thankful I get to be in your life, Ten, I really am.”
“No, no one is settling here. I’m good for you, and you’re good for me.”
You smile, pulling your hand back into your lap. “And if you ever feel that you can’t handle my asexuality, please let me know. This is my life, but that doesn’t mean you have to put up with it.”
“Okay, but I want to repeat that because it is you, there is nothing I have to put up with. I love you, and anything that lets me stay with you is worth doing.”
You take a deep breath, shaking your hands to try and rid your body of any anxiety. “Why don’t you show me the ring, and then I’ll decide?”
He smiles widely, quickly leaning over to grab the box. Once he has it, he scoots closer so your knees touch. “Ready?”
You nod your head, looking down at the box.
He pulls open the top to reveal a simple silver band with a single round-cut diamond. Your breath hitches in your throat as you stare down at the ring. In high school, you used to look at engagement rings, imagining what it would be like for someone to pick out a ring for you and what it would feel like to be in love. Now that you’re in the moment, though, no amount of prior searching could have prepared you for the feeling of actually receiving one. For the feeling that accompanies knowing someone picked out a ring for you and the implication that they are prepared to spend the rest of their life with you.
“I told the man at the store that you’re a simple, classy girl, and he told me to go for a princess cut,” he whispers. You carefully pull the ring out of the box, turning it slowly to look at it. “But when I saw this one, I knew it would fit you way better. So, what do you say? Is the ring the tiebreaker?”
You slide the ring onto your left finger, looking up at him as more tears run down your face. You laugh happily, pulling him forward into a hug. He pulls you in tighter, burying his face into your neck.  
“I love you more than I have ever loved anybody. Thank you for buying me this,” you whisper.
He laughs, pulling away. “I can’t say that’s typically the response to receiving an engagement ring, but I’ll take it.”
“I’ll assume your misty eyes are due to happiness and not because you think I’m saying no?”
He laughs, clasping one hand over his mouth. “Yes, yes, they are. So, we’re getting married?”
You bite your lip, ignoring the queasiness that arises at the words. But you push through it, Ten’s smile encouraging you. “Yes, yes, we are. Years from now, but yes.”
“Yes, years from now, we will be married.”
You gasp, muttering a sorry as he jumps at your sudden outburst. “Does this mean the ring is yours and not Johnny’s?”
“Is that a serious question?”
---
Because this is something new for me (I mean writing about asexuality) I would love to know what you guys thought about it. Happy late asexual week to any fellow aces and even to those not part of the community. If anyone wants to talk about asexuality, feel free to message me or check out this post to learn more about asexuality and what it means. I would love to talk and answer any questions you may have. I also want to say that we should not settle for anything less than a Ten (granted, all our Tens look different) and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Because happy ace relationships are possible. 
Have a great day/night! 
masterlist
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moonlezn · 1 month
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nightwalker o conto
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𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖔 𝖜𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖉𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖘 𝖔𝖓 𝖙𝖊𝖓 𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖜 𝖑𝖎𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖞𝖔𝖚
este não é um conto feliz.
monster!ten x mermaid!reader
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mae-gi-writes · 2 years
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when the words fail . ten lee
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Storyline: When your dance teacher decides to pair you up with your best friend Ten as a fun project for the school’s end-of-year performance, you couldn’t be happier. Ten’s your rock, the only person with whom you could trust your body, yourself, your feelings. But this dance brings out the best and worst parts of you, and suddenly, it feels like Ten means so much more to you than what he seems to be.
Genre: college!au, bestfriends to lovers, fluff, comedy, angst and mentions of insecurity and depression
Word count: friggin’ long because I can’t seem to write 1k fics now it’s ALL OR NOTHING.
Song: I Got You - Leona Lewis
————
A place to crash, I got you. No need to ask, I got you. Just get on the phone, I got you.
Gonna pick you up, if I have to.
————
“Love.”
Your nose scrunches up in distaste, “too basic.”
"It's a human emotion," Ten argues.
"It's overdone."
"It's necessary."
"Ugh," you can't help but roll your eyes, "can we do everything but love? We'll use it as a last resort."
He throws you a look as if asking whether you're actually serious, though you're used to it by now; that quirked eyebrow and the narrowing of his eyes. You always think of a cat when he does that, and right now is no exception. A pissed off cat.
"You spend too much time with your cats," is what you answer instead, ducking with a chuckle when he swats at your arm.
What you thought should have been a fun performance to plan is starting to grow into a headache. You're not even sure why your dance teacher came up with such a suggestion. Ten is one, if not the best, dancer of your class. Your entire cohort, even. So why -- out of all people -- has she chosen you as his partner?
"What about Life as the theme?" Ten proposes after a long bout of silence with only the click, click, click of his pen breaking it in small staccatos.
"Life," you lean your head back, stretching your neck slightly, "sounds alright, I guess. But shouldn't we be more specific?"
"So...youth? Like, the beauty of being young?"
"Sure. That works."
Once your theme is cleared, you move on to the logistics; the genre of dance, the music, what costumes to wear. It's all very blurry and unconfirmed, and even when curfew rolls around and you're trudging out of the studio, you still can't register the fact that you're the one who has been given the chance to work with Ten. Alone.
"You're thinking too much into it," is what Ten says when you voice out yout concerns, "Professor Lee probably thinks our styles are compatible."
Sure. Hiphop and jazz, it could work. But still, the skill gap is so obvious that it keeps you up at night.
The only comfort this brings you is that you get to work with your best friend, and what better way to spend the last few months of your degree than with the one person that understands all of you completely?
You try to comfort yourself over that fact, finally allowing the heaviness of your lids to drift you off to sleep.
"Since we're just the two of us, we can make a story out of it," Ten says the next morning during Dance Theory class. You're nestled at the very back and succeed in ducking behind your classmates in favour of exchanging ideas on paper.
Your heads are close, and if you look up you might bump your nose into his temple.
Instead, you keep your gaze focused on the page scribbled in black ink as Ten continues in a breathless murmur, "what are we? Friends? Lovers? Just two strangers who happen to meet by chance?"
"How about just us?"
"Us?"
"Yeah. Us. Our friendship."
Something indescribable flashes through Ten’s eyes when his eyes look up to yours, and you wonder whether yours are giving too much away. What are you giving away exactly? You ask yourself in annoyance. There’s nothing to give away.
Ten speaks before you have the chance to add on to your statement, “I like it,” he scribbles it down on the page in big block letters so that no one would miss it even if they tried, “our friendship.”
It seems that everyone else is more excited about the Performance than you are, asking you how you managed to get on Professor Lee’s good side and whether Ten had anything to do with this particular arrangement. As much as you hate to admit the thought out loud, the more you think about it, the more logical it becomes. Though…why would Ten even want to dance with you if that is his final piece, his thesis, the one stage that will determine where his future his headed?
“You should be happy about it,” Mark Lee says in response to your complaints as you gobble your way through your lunch. The cafeteria is hoarded with hungry students at this time of day and you’re glad you reminded yourself to bring a sandwich from home, “one; you get to work with your best friend. And two, you’ll get good grades for it.”
"Something doesn't feel right," you mumble through bites of your sandwich, "it's like...a sixth sense thing."
"Well tell you sixth sense to back off. You really can't complain when everyone's thirsting to get paired with Ten Lee."
"Maybe Ten doesn't want this."
"Why the fuck not?"
"Oh, I don't know Mark. Maybe because he doesn't want an extra weight on his shoulder?"
"Don't be stupid Y/N. He wouldn't want to work with anybody else but you," Mark takes another bite of his rice and curry, scooping up a little bit of kimchi he'd managed to wheedle out from the canteen lady earlier, "give him some credit."
You try. You really do.
As if to cure yourself of the guilt eating away at your insides, you stay up late mosy nights after dance practice, cooped up in your room in search of the right music to accompany your piece. You scrape the internet for pictures of costumes, wonder whether you could utilize some Chinese elements to your piece, and look over any lights that might amplify the feeling you're trying to convey.
All this information is scribbled into your notebook until the next morning when you have dance class with Ten. Nervousness takes a hold of you as soon as you step in though, and you try not to fidget under your best friend's quick glances when the teacher finally gives you free time to work out logistics.
"I was thinking," you start out shyly, keeping your notebook as close to your chest as you possibly can, "uhm, about the music, maybe we could use I Got You by Leona Lewis or one of Radwimps' songs. Or maybe even Youth by Troye Sivan since we`re working on that theme anyway--"
You realize you're babbling and quickly rush to add, "--I'm sorry, those are just ideas. We can definitely look at more options--"
"Don't go shy on me now," Ten chuckles, making a grab for your notebook and before you know it, he's flipping through the ink-filled pages with such interest it makes you cringe, "oh my god, Y/N. That's amazing. You did all this yourself?"
"I couldn't sleep last night," it's technically just half a lie, "so I thought might as well waste my time productively."
"Goody-Two Shoes."
"Oh shut up--Give that back," you snatch it back with a scowl, hating the way heat spreads to your cheeks, "I'm trying to do my part of the job."
"You're doing more than just your part," his chin rests into his hand, elbow on the table as he grins at you throgh his bangs, "so tell me. Anything else you wanna discuss?"
See, this is what you love the most about Ten. No matter how talented he is, he'll never be one to turn away your ideas in favour of his own. As you spend the next half hour planning out your costumes (Ten thought an autumn color palette would be best) and the story you’d want to tell (you chipped in a part about making it emotional to garner people’s attention), you realize the importance of Ten’s presence in all of this. It’s not that he’s the best at complying nor is he the most creative, but what Ten does is that he brings your ideas together, fuses the abstract into concrete, and gives you so much support you start thinking whether he’s just doing it to be nice.
But here’s the thing. He isn’t just nice. He’s nice, while also knowing what he wants.
You’re so immersed in the subject that you barely take note of the figure hanging over your shoulder until an unfamiliar soprano speaks up from behind you.
"Hey Ten!"
You turn and blink. The woman standing before you is dazzling. All long legs and golden dyed hair drifing down her back in glossy curls.
"Jueun," next to you, Ten straightens in his chair, "what are you doing here?"
Who’s this? Is your first thought. Of course, Ten has a lot of friends. So much more than you do. But none of them have ever stepped foot into his classes. Let alone his godly dance classes. You half-expect Ten to shoo her away with a half-baked promise to get back to her later, but you’re more than astounded when the girl — this girl — merely lets out a soft laugh.
“You’re the one who asked me whether I was free,” she grins at him. And then, like an afterthought, her gaze flits to you, “oh, hi. Sorry. How rude of me, I’m Jueun.”
Jueun — according to the limited, slightly awkward introduction mediated by Ten — is a third-year biology major who’s only focus had been to get into the field of medicine. She’d met Ten at the last Thai committee social and they had been seeing each other casually ever since.
“You’re from Thailand too?” You ask her with a slight frown. Jueun doesn’t remotely sound Thai.
Oh, why do you care?
“My parents are, though my father is half-korean. That would explain my name,” she smiles and it’s so pretty it almost blinds you for a full minute. No wonder Ten appreciates her presence. Any man would be lucky enough to entertain her presence. She turns to Ten then, another playful smile on her face, “I’m gonna head to the cafeteria. We could meet there once you’re done.”
“Sounds good,” he agrees.
In any other circumstances, you’re pretty certain Ten would’ve made a comment on Jueun’s presence after she’s gone. It’s not like he’s never dated before, you’re used to seeing him with other girls who disappear after a while. And you don’t see how Jueun is any different.
Except, Ten doesn’t even mention her. At all. Instead, he focuses back on the topic at hand; stage lighting, and leaves you in a tightly wound knot of confusion as you keep on gazing at him in hopes that he’d clarify this weird situation.
“So…” you muster up the courage to ask him as you’re busy packing up your bag. Ten is shoving his things inside none-too-gently, suggesting that he is probably going to meet him with this Jueun as promised, “you like her?”
“Huh?” Ten’s head snaps up to look at you.
“Jueun,” you motion towards the space she’d once occupied by your table, “do you like her?”
He offers a half-hearted shrug as you make your way out of the classroom, holding the door open for you, “it’s early days.”
“You’re seeing her?”
“I guess you could say that, yes.”
“Is she nice?”
He cocks his head in thought. In the corner of your eye, you catch a small smile fitting across his lips, “she’s…yeah. She’s nice. I get along well with her. She’s easy to be around.”
Ah.
A rock seems to form in your chest, and suddenly it’s a little hard to breathe. You look away from him, hands unconsciously tightening on your backpack straps as you wonder why it had taken Jueun’s appearance for him to say anything in the first place.
It’s none of your business. You know it isn’t. And you’re not one to pry into Ten’s personal affairs.
So you let it go, bid him goodbye at the cafeteria doors, and try not to think about why your heart aches a little at the thought as you make your way out of the school campus.
————
Go ahead and say goodbye, I’ll be alright
Go ahead and make me cry, i’ll be alright
————
“One, two, three, four and five—“
“On five?”
“Yeah,” Ten swings his arms around in a sweeping gesture, the movement as graceful as a swan on water. He rotates his body, adds a spin while counting, “five, and six and seven, eight.”
“Five and six, and seven—“ you try your best to imitate him, though you feel more like an ugly, awkward duckling than a swan. You stumble slightly, lips pursing into a pout, “this isn’t going to work.”
“You just gotta practice,” Ten repeats the movement again, slowly, and you do your best to follow, “yeah, that’s it. You just gotta make sure you hit it on the five, and six, you put your foot down—“ he does, you follow like a newborn fawn, the balance throwing you off, “—and seven, eight.”
The final performance — and evaluation — is in a month and is approaching too quickly for your taste. Late hours had been spent in the comforts of the music lab where you and Ten had sat together, notes spilling out from all corners and coffee cups at the ready for the long night, as you both worked on the melody, choosing each lyrics precisely to the story you were telling, and adding a few beats here and there to allow some depth into it.
Despite your tiredness, those days had been magical, almost pleasurable, when Ten was at your side. He’d bring you snacks from the convenience store whenever he could, managed to stuff a throw blanket in his backpack for the times you’d collapsed onto the couch to doze off. He’d sacrifice his own sleep for yours and instead would click away at the mouse when you gave in to the tiredness and didn’t complain once about coming early to dance practice the next day.
There was a lot of work to be done, a lot of details to be figured out. But with Ten at your side, nothing seemed too terrible or impossible. You’d sometimes find yourself into fits of laughter whenever you got distracted enough by the campus gossip he’d relay to your ears. When you got tired, he’d play loud, exciting music for you to dance to, and when you were both collapsed on the couch after too much staring at the computer screen, you’d exchange soft conversation about your future, about the things you’d like to do once you graduated, about all the places and the people you’d like to see.
“I like it here though,” you’d say to him, shoulders shifting so that it brushed against his. Ten was warm. Wrapped up in the blanket thrown over the pair of you as you leaned against his body, he was the perfect pillow to fall asleep on, “I like being close to my family. I like the simplicity of waking up every morning and knowing where everything is.”
Ten’s head dips so that he can look at you. The warm studio light hits his side profile, causing you to admire his features, “I want to travel,” he murmurs, “I want to work abroad for a few years. Yeah, that would be ideal.”
“Have you started applying for jobs yet?”
He shakes his head, “I don’t know what I want to do, specifically. I thought about going into costume design, maybe…” his voice trails off with uncertainty.
“That actually sounds like you. If you weren’t such a good dancer.”
“You can’t make a career only out of dancing, though.”
“Isn’t that why we’re in this program?”
“We’re in this program because we love dancing,” something catches in Ten’s voice then, something you can’t quite decipher, “but just our love for dance isn’t going to get us anywhere. We need to branch out, diversify.”
His words are shocking, for you’ve always known Ten to be a follower of his dreams. You straighten up, look at him as if he’s grown another pair of eyes. He avoids your gaze though, keeps it glued to the blanket he’s started fidgeting with.
“You got into an argument, didn’t you?” Your words are soft, yet hauntingly loud in the silence of the room, “with your mother?”
A pause. Ten’s figure stills.
Then, his head dips into a nod. He lets out a shaky exhale before dragging a hand over his face, “I don’t know what to do,” his voice comes out muffled underneath his palm, “Ma told me I wouldn’t be able to keep dancing forever.”
“You were made to dance,” your hand shoots out to grasp his forearm, “out of all of us, you’re the one who was made to dance, Ten. You can’t just throw that away just because your mother doesn’t agree with your definition of success. And imagine all the grants, the scholarships. You’ll get them all, Ten. What with our final performance—“
And then it hits you.
He might not get the scholarship. Not if it’s with someone like you.
That’s it. That’s the issue.
“It’s me,” you murmur out, “isn’t it?”
Ten’s head whips up, eyes catching yours in surprise, “what?”
“It’s me,” you repeat the words that sound hollow on your tongue, coated with a sourness that makes you want to gag, “I’m the reason why you won’t be able to get your scholarship…isn’t it? That’s what everyone’s been telling you, right?”
His response is silence. But that’s more than enough.
“You’re right,” you swallow thickly. Take a breath, try to continue though your voice starts shaking, “you won’t get the scholarship because of me. But we can do something about that. We’ll focus the choreography on you so that you have more chance. We can do that—“
“No,” Ten’s jaw clenches then, “No. We—No. That’s not right. It’s your performance—“
“And yours,” you counter-argue, “which is why I think it’s fair enough you’re the center of it.”
He’d rejected your idea despite the argument that arose that night, refused to even acknowledge it as a possibility. But you were just as stubborn and willing to give up anything for Ten to get that scholarship that would put him under the radar of the best International Dancers in the world. Heck, he would get master classes out of this, and if he put his name out there, he’d definitely have a wider chance of creating the career he’s always dreamt of.
“We could change the choreography here,” you say while trying out the moves again. Fix, six and seven, eight, “I think you should be the one doing it. I could maybe stay in the background.”
“It won’t look as good,” Ten shoots you a sharp look, “let’s do it together, come on.”
Most attempts up until now had been futile to try and wheedle Ten into taking the centre stage. It’s frustrating, so much so that you end up at Professor Lee’s office one late afternopn in hopes of getting her to influence his decision.
"You know I cannot say anything about that," she looks up at you from behind her wooden desk, lRge and overflowing with papers that seem endless.
"But you agree that him getting more focus would provide better opportunities?"
Professor Lee hums, chin settling atop her hand as she looks at you over the top of her glasses, "Give him a little more credit than that, Y/N. He did ask me to put you with him, after all.”
You blink. “He—He did?”
Professor Lee cocks her head at you, probably confused by your behavior, “yes. He asked me himself. Said that you guys wanted to make your last dance piece a memorable one. Who was I to stop him?”
“But—“ your tongue suddenly feels a lot heavier, your chest suddenly constricting as realization washes through you. So Ten had asked Professor Lee himself, making as though it had been both of your idea, “—but you knew this would affect his grade. You know it. I’m—We’re not even close to the same grade boundary—“
“I’m well aware,” Professor Lee interrupts, “but he wouldn’t hear another word about it. You know how stubborn he is.”
That changes a lot of things. That makes you seething mad.
Who is he to know what’s best for him? What’s best for you? You understand why he’s doing it — he wants you to succeed just as he does. But the anger that pulses through you diminishes your amount of sympathetic reasoning and no sooner you’ve walked out of Professor Lee’s office that you fish out your phone and ram your fingers over your keyboard.
Y/N: Where are u?
The text comes back a few agonizing seconds later.
Ten: Uni cafe. Y?
You don’t hesitate, going straight to the said destination as you try and qualm the sudden overwhelming wave of feelings that are threatening to take over. You hate this, hate the fact that Ten has the audacity to do such a thing behind your back. It’s not just about trying to make it better for you but it’s almost pitiful, the way he’d done it. He might as well be laughing in your face because right now you feel like a complete, blithering idiot.
You’re almost through the cafe doors when you halt in mid-step.
Ten is here, but he’s not alone. Jueun is with him.
Something in your heart cracks.
For a minute, the world seems to freeze on its axis. With only you, and your beating heart. Too loud. Too much.
What are you doing?
You take a step back. Then a second. And then, you’re bolting away and through the campus as a new kind of rage takes over. Stupid, stupid, your brain screams at you like a broken tape record on repeat and your chest seems to constrict and you can’t seem to breathe through the ragged, pulsating blood roaring through your ears. Nothing makes sense as you dash blindly, your feet carrying you and before you know it you find yourself back in the dance studio, breathless and in a sort of daze that makes you slide to the floor.
Wow. You were desperate for Ten's help. But not desperate enough. And yet, he's done the very thing you didn't want him to -- have pity on you.
Pathetic.
A sob crawls up your throat. You lean over your knees, forehead pressed against your kneecaps as you try really hard to gain control of your staggering breaths.
But it's too late. And too much. You start cehing before you know it and you wonder, you wonder whether everything has ever been for nothing.
-----
And when you need a place to run to
For better or worse, I got you
-----
You don't know how much time you spend in the studio, crying your eyes out until your eyes sting and your nose clogs up.
The only thing that takes you momentarily out of your misery is the slow buzz of your phone. You fish it out od your backpack, hesitating upon noticing the caller ID.
Ten Lee.
You roll your eyes, look up to the ceiling to take a shaky inhale, then answer the phone.
"What?" You say as soon as the line connects.
"I've been calling you for ages," Ten's voice is like a knife slicing through the air, "where are you?"
"Studio."
"Wha--Y/N, I was worried sick--"
"I'm not your responsibility, Ten. You don't have to worry about me."
If he hears your bitterness, he doesn't say anything, "stay where you are. I'm coming."
The sound of the door clicking open announces his arrival a few minutes later, but you don't look up from scrolling your instagram feed. You really don't have the energy to face him right now.
You hear his footsteps approaching, "hey," he stops before you, squatting down to your level in hopes of catching your eye.
"Hey," he taps your knee and you look up reluctantly. Worry floods his eyes the moment he spots your blotched face, “woah — you look like shit.”
“Thanks Ten,” you wipe your face using your jacket sleeve. You turn your face away from him, a mixture of shame and embarrassment causing heat to crawl up the back of your neck.
“Tell me,” he nudges your knee once more. Then, his hand grasps it before he sits down cross-legged in front of you, eyes questioning and filled with a softness that echoes his concern.
It makes your chest hurt. And yet, you can’t find yourself to be mad at him.
“Did you—“ the words clog up in the back of your throat as your eyes slide to stare at his scuffed sneakers, “did you ask Professor Lee to put us together? For the final performance?”
His body tenses. He doesn’t answer though.
You laugh. An empty echo of a sound, “I can’t believe it,” you half-mutter to yourself, “why Ten? Why’d you do--"
"I wanted to."
You shake your head, "you...you wanted to dance with me?"
"Yeah. Yeah I did."
"Don't bullshit me," your eyes snap up to his, finally meeting those dark swirls of coffee brown that causes a small knot to tighten at your throat, "why would you? We're not even on the same level, and we--"
"I wanted to and you needed the help."
"I don't need your help!" You yell out so suddenly, the anger finally rising to the surface.
You exhale, inhale, exhale once more and squeeze your eyes shut through the film of fresh tears slowly blurring your vision.
"I don't--" you try to choke out, "I'm not extra weight, Ten. And I don't want to hold you back--"
He reaches for you, "don't say that--"
"I don't need your pity," your gaze snaps back to his despite the tears now rolling down your cheeks, "I don't need you to feel sorry for me. Nor do I need you to sacrifice your future just to--"
"Y/N you're not listening to me," Ten rubs a hand over his face, "I wanted to," he jabs a finger at his chest as he continues, "I wanted to. Okay?"
"But why?" You bite out.
"Because just for this once I didn't want to do something because I was good at it," his eyes suddenly flash and you catch the slow silent torment in them, a black storm raging, "I didn't want to do something just because there was going to be a lot of technique or wow factors or whatever. I wanted to do something of my own, that I wanted to and--and I wanted it to be with you."
His confession is startling, a little shocking even.
You can't do anything but stare at him. He stares right back, dark eyes locked on yours with no intention of looking away. And in it you see the conflict happening; the guilt, the remorse, the need to be understood.
"We could've talked about it," are the words tumbling out of your mouth after a long bout of silence. In the distance, you hear a door slam. Probably a few other dancers closing up for the night.
"You wouldn't have let me do anything," Ten says, "I know how you are."
Well, he isn't wrong.
"We've never danced together, not once since we got here," Ten continues in a soft murmur. He slides up to the wall next to you, shoulder to shoulder, his body so warm you unconsciously inch closer, "so I thought...this would be our last chance."
"But your scholarship--"
"I don't care about a damn scholarship, Y/N."
You allow your head to fall onto his shoulder and a soft sigh escapes your lips. You stay there for a while, the quiet slowly calming you down and weighing down on your lids. Ten’s breathing is a constant rhythm, as is the beating of his heart, and you find that it actually feels comforting to hear him so close like this. It’s nice.
“Tell me about Jueun,” you mumble out after a while.
Ten must’ve dozed off too, for when he speaks next his words are slurred, “what about her?”
“Do you like her?”
You feel his head pressing atop yours, “I like spending time with her. Do I want to go out with her? Yeah sure. But I wouldn’t say I like her that way…yet.”
“Do you think you could?”
“Maybe,” he pauses, “she thought we were dating. I had to explain that we’re just very close.”
You swallow. “Oh.”
There’s something inside you that lights up with that knowledge and the image launches at you so vividly you can’t shove it away quickly enough; you and Ten, walking side by side with your hands interlocked. Him smiling down at you in that crooked grin of his as you tell him about your day, before he pulls your hand up to kiss your knuckles.
You quickly shake yourself out of your thoughts, shivering. Weird, you think to yourself, it would be weird.
————-
Go ahead and make me cry, I’ll be alright
Go ahead and say goodbye, I’ll be alright
————-
Nothing more was said on the matter of Ten having bargained your place next to him with Professor Lee. Instead, you decided to throw yourself entire into the project. Every spare moment you had would find you in the dance studio, going over moves and polishing those that you still found to be a big struggle. Ten would be there most of the time to offer comforting guidance and dancing along to the music with you. His presence, despite not having asked anything of him, was a comforting one, and the more you danced, the more comfortable you felt with those uncomfortable turns and twists of your body.
It happens on a Wednesday evening. You and Ten had Dance Theory in the morning and had grabbed a quick lunch before heading back to the studio, offering sheepish shrugs to the person in-charge as she raised her brows at the two of you as if asking, “you two again?”
“One, two, three and four and five—“ Ten is chanting out as you follow the dance steps, moving in a slow turn using your knee. You turn too fast though, your outstretched hand knocking into Ten’s with as much grace as an awkward duckling.
“You need to take your time with that one,” Ten goes down on one knee to demonstrate, swinging it back and forth as he looks up at you, “see? You use the momentum, not your back foot. Then you’ll have more control over your movements.”
You try it out, kneeling down and spinning around none-too-gently. This time, you turn too quick. Your body crashes into Ten’s chest and you both topple to the ground in a mess of tangled limbs.
“Shit, sorry!” You lift your face from Ten’s chest, before bursting out laughing at his annoyed expression, “sorry Ten, I swear I didn’t do it on purpose.”
He groans, hand going to his chin to rub the sore spot, “I think I broke my chin.”
“Oh don’t be so dramatic. Here,” and you knock his hand away to take over his massage, “better?”
You grin at him, not realizing your compromising position until you feel one of his hands skimming along your waist. Your smile drifts away as he pulls you up with him in a sitting position and it would’ve been all so innocent if not for the fact that you’re currently sitting on his lap.
“Sorry,” you manage to mumble out and trying your best not to stare at the fact that his lips are in touching distance with yours.
Ten gently nudges your hand away then, providing you some space as he leans away from your, tilts his head to the side even, “s’alright. Though I doubt my medical insurance will cover this.”
“I’ll pay you in bubble tea,” you slide out of his lap and dust yourself off, “let me try it again. Don’t stand in my way.”
He doesn’t. And both of you decidedly ignore the slight bout of tension that had sparked a few moments earlier.
It’s normal, you try repeating to yourself as you toss and turn in your sleep that night, dance partners need to have some kind of chemistry for it to work.
Another time, you’re trying out one of Ten’s movement combinations, lying down on your back as Ten circles his leg in a circular arc before he’s crouching above you, “I can lift you up with my hand,” he’s explaining, though you’re suddenly focused on the way his mouth is moving, forming words. You feel his hand caressing the side of your face, slipping to the back of your neck. And then you’re being lifted from the ground and right into Ten’s arms.
“Use your core, Y/N,” Ten chuckles when you flop against him like a dead fish instead of that smooth lift you were supposed to do, “it’ll be smoother that way and you can come up with me as I draw back from you.”
So you agree and decide to try with the music.
You try not to let the music affect you too much, focusing on the power each movement creates. The melody picks up through the speakers and you join Ten in the middle, the pair of you moving side by side like mirror images until you drop your body to the floor and Ten replicates the exact same movement he did earlier.
He kicks his leg back,circles around before dropping to the ground with such fluidity and so much emotion that your breath catches the moment his gaze locks on yours.
His hand caresses your cheekbone, slips to the back of your head.
You force yourself to concentrate, try not to get distracted by the way he’s looking at you.
He tugs you up. You follow in a slow motion until your noses brush. Your hand cups his cheekbone, an impulsive move. But one that works.
You don’t realize you’re breathing hard until the music fades.
You and Ten. Breathing in sync. With barely any distance between you.
Close. So close.
“That feels good,” Ten’s murmur brushes against your face.
“Y-Yeah.”
Your eyes drop to the ground. It’s too much. The tension crackles in the air. Electricity, a warning sign. And you wonder if Ten feels it too.
The phone rings. You both jump, started. Heads turn to the device at the other end of the room.
“That’s probably Jueun,” Ten says before slowly extracting himself from your hold and walking over to his phone. You sit there, allowing the space to let you breathe, to allow your heart to calm down from the sudden ricocheting excitement that’s taken over your body. Heat floods your limbs, the bottom of your stomach, so much so that your palms curl into fists by your side.
Ten’s voice floats through the room but the words don’t register in your brain. That is, until he calls out your name and causes you to jump, “w-what?”
“Put your sweater on,” his lips curl into a smile, “we’re going to a party.”
That is how you find yourself dragged to one of Jueun’s classmates’ dormitories, introduced as Taeyong and who coincidentally is also friends with Mark. It’s eleven in the evening and the smell of booze and smoke fill every single pore of the house as you struggle through a throng of people to reach the kitchen. Goddamn, you only want a glass of water and almost cry out in relief upon seeing the drinks stacked on the table. You’ve lost Ten along the way, not that you mind, for the moment he spotted Jueun, he’d been a gone man. Plus, after what had just happened in the dance studio, you probably need some time alone with your thoughts.
You’re midway through pouring some water for yourself when someone taps you on the shoulder.
You turn to see Taeyong, a cheeky smile curled along his lips and hands tucked into the back-pocket of his leather jeans. Who even wears leather jeans?
“Y/N, right? I’ve heard a lot about you from Jueun. It’s nice to finally put a name to a face,” he holds out his hand for you to shake, which you do after some slight hesitation.
“You know about me,” you say it as if it’s a statement, eyebrow quirking up in curiosity, “how do I not know about you?”
“Well,” he grins wickedly, a mischievous little boy ready to take on a challenge, “you can know all about me tonight, if you want.”
As much as Taeyong isn’t really your style, you welcome the distraction he provides. Soon enough, you find yourself at the pool table playing beer pong along with his friends, cheering and whooping and high-fiving random people you’ve only just met seconds ago. But for once, you don’t care. You want this, you want to escape the sudden need to seek out Ten’s presence, you want to push him out of your mind for as much as possible and if alcohol will help, then so be it.
You’re in the middle of downing another shot of absinthe with Mark — he’d sought you out a few minutes earlier, complaining about how you’d ditched him in favour of Taeyong’s cool friends — when a hand lands on your arm, pulling you back into a solid chest.
A whiff of a familiar scent invades your nostrils. You blink as Ten’s blurry face comes into focus.
“Oh,” you squint up at him, “what are you doing here?”
“That’s enough.”
“Wh—“ you scoff, shake your head as a soft giggle erupts from your lips, “what are you doing, Ten?”
“You’ve had enough to drink,” he takes the absinthe out of your grip and you cry out in protest, “wh—give that back!”
“No,” and without waiting for your consent, he turns away and downs the entire thing, shuddering as he does so.
Mark whines out behind him, “what the fuck, dude? Not cool. We didn’t get to drink together for ages. Why you gotta gatecrash like that?”
“She has her final performance in two weeks,” Ten then makes a grab for your arm, though you struggle and push him away. To no avail, his grip his firm. He tightens it for good measure, “she can’t be drinking this much.”
“Aw come on man—“ Mark’s words are cut off by Jueun’s voice calling out Ten’s name from behind him.
You take this chance to wriggle out of Ten’s grip, for once glad that Jueun is here to provide him some kind of distraction. Glaring up at your best friend as a newfound rage bubbles up through your chest, you shove him away forcefully, “Yeah Ten, you have bigger fish to fry. Why are you babysitting me?”
He winces, “I’m not—“
“You’re the one who wanted to bring me here,” you jut your chin out at him, “so let me be, and mind your own business.”
“I—“
But you’re storming away before he has the chance to say anything else. You don’t want to hear anything more, the tide of emotions wrapping you up in wave after wave of despair and feelings that you yourself can’t decipher. A small sob echoes up your throat as you stumble out into the open air. Your hands reach out blindly, finding purchase on the outside wall as you allow yourself to breathe in, breathe out.
The music is nothing but an echo from the outside, blending in with the distant noise of cars zooming by and other people’s chatter. You clutch at your chest and wonder why your heart feels like it just got punched.
It hurts. Right between your chest. Something that is tearing up, eating away at you from the inside. Memories flash through your mind; Ten’s face, crinkled up in that adorable smile of his, with Jueun in a corner of the room. A picture of what you saw earlier like a permanent scar etched into your memory.
Ten’s eyes, swimming with some kind of softness you can only define as adoration as he looks down at her. You squeeze your eyes shut. The dance studio, him hovering over you. His lips milimeters away.
You can’t stay here. Struggling to your feet, you stagger forward. One step. Two steps. Away from that house.
It hurts. It hurts so much you wish to tear your entire heart out of your chest.
It hurts. Tears are streaming down your face. Fat pebbles of water dripping down your sweater.
It hurts, though you don’t want to think about why it does.
Because deep down, you know exactly the reason why.
You like Ten.
You love Ten.
And he doesn’t love you back.
—————
And if it don’t feel right, you’re not losing me by letting me know
—————
It’s Thursday and you’re currently waiting for the practice room to free itself. Your head is heavy and every noise seems too loud. But still, your nerves are jittery, all over the place.
You haven’t spoken to Ten since last night. And you’re not sure what will be the outcome of this conversation.
You rarely fight with him and that’s because you’re both so non-confrontational by nature that 1) you let things slide easily and 2) you talk it out to clear the air.
But last night hadn’t been the usual bite and snap. Last night, there had been something a little more coiling in your stomach, in the way Ten’s eyes had blazed with hurt.
The door opens. You look up, just in time to see Taeyong striding out. He halts in mid-step, recognition dawning on his face, “hey, Y/N!”
“Hey,” you smile back weakly and wonder how he’s not hungover. Or if he is, he does a good job of hiding it.
“Where did you disappear to last night?” He asks, shifting to lean on one leg as his arms cross over his chest, “Jueun told me you left early.”
“Yeah. I wasn’t…feeling too good.”
“Too much to drink?”
Or not enough. You grimace, “something like that.”
“Also, nice shots,” it takes you a second to realize he’s talking about the beer pong game that you won against him and one of his other mates Jaemin, “when can I have a re-match?”
“That depends whether you’ll be hosting another party or not.”
“Oh?” His eyebrow quirks up suggestively, “does that mean you’ll come if I host another one?”
“Depends,” you grin, “what’s the prize?”
A cough. You both turn to see Ten with his hands in pockets, dressed as though he’d just rolled out of bed. It’s even more contrasting when he walks over to stand beside Taeyong who is finely decked in another pair of black jeans and black muscle shirt to match.
“Hey Taeyong,” Ten nods in greeting, “how’s it going man?”
“S’alright, what about you?! Was just talking to Y/N about last night. Did you know she’s an amazing beer pong player?”
“The very best,” you add.
“No,” Ten’s eyes flicker between you and Taeyong, “no I didn’t. Would be nice to see that in action.”
“Maybe next week,” Taeyong glances down at his smart watch, “oop, I gotta go. I have chem lab next.”
You wave at the young man as he jogs down the corridor and waits until he’s out of view before walking inside the studio, Ten hot on your heels, “What was that about?” He asks as you drop your bag on the wooden bench in the corner of the room and proceed to plug in your phone.
You scroll through the list of songs as you ask, “What was what about?”
“Since when were you so chummy with the campus playboy?”
“Since when did you care?”
Ten lets out a loud, exasperated sigh before he walks over to you, grabbing onto your shoulders and swiveling you around so that you have no choice but to face him. He grabs your phone, tucks it in the back pocket of his sweatpants before finding your gaze, “you’re mad.”
“I am.”
“Why?”
“You stole my shot last night.”
“That’s it?” He scoffs, disbelief crossing his face, “that’s why you’re mad?”
“And you butted your nose into my business.”
“Y/N, I always butt my nose into your business—“
“You don’t need to,” your mind flies you back to that said night; Jueun had leaned towards him, stealing a small kiss from his cheek. Your chest constricts and you look away, “that’s why people think we’re dating. You do these things that friends don’t do. So just—just stop. It’s annoying. And awkward.”
Your eyes glue themselves on one corner of the studio to avoid the evident hurt that paints his face. Ten’s hold on your shoulders loosen slightly as a distinct pause hangs in the air.
Then, he slowly moves away, “alright,” he mumbles while adjusting his cap, “if that’s what you want.”
It’s not.
But it’s better for it to be this way. Because no way in hell are you spilling your unrequited feelings to him and no way are you going to jeopardize his newly-formed relationship. No matter how many times Ten rejects the idea of him dating, it’s as clear as day in his eyes, in the way he tilts his head more attentively towards her, in the way he smiles so brightly it hurts.
The rest of practice happens in silence, only broken by you asking questions when you struggle with the movements. Ten is patient, explaining everything in detail and holding on to you when you need the support. But it’s clear that there’s some sense of dislodgment, of awkward silence that builds in the space wedged between the two of you. And as much as you miss the familiarity of him altogether, you know it’s for the best to pull away now when the pain is still fresh.
Obviously, Ten does not know a thing about your unrequited feelings. So it surprises you after dance practice as you’re making your way out of the door that he reaches over to grasp the back of your elbow. Light enough that you can pull away, yet firm on your skin.
“Yes?” You cast him a glance. And then, surprise takes over.
Because as Ten meets your eyes, you notice the tears threatening to fall.
“H-Hey,” all semblance of ignorance goes right out of the window as your wall breaks and you rush over to him just in time for Ten to bury his face into your shoulder. His tears are silent crystal jewels sliding down his cheeks and drenching your shirt, but the way his arms find your neck to hug you tight against him is enough to cause guilt to creep in and settle at the base of your stomach.
You hug him back hesitantly, hand smoothing down his back in long, slow strokes, “it’s okay,” you hush into his ear as sobs finally start emerging from the back of his throat, “hey, don’t cry.”
It takes a while for him to calm down, you tugging him to the bench and continuing to stroke his back until his sobs subside into sniffles.
“I’m sorry,” you finally blurt out. And as if his tears are contagious, you find yourself leaning onto his shoulder to cry silently into him as you murmur, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. I was just…angry.”
When he speaks next, his voice is hoarse, caught up with emotion, “I’m sorry for overstepping. I didn’t—I didn’t realize that I was being overbearing—“
“No no,” you tighten your hold on his arm, “I was being a sensitive bitch. It’s not your fault. You were only looking out for me.”
“Still,” he blows his nose with a tissue, “you’re right. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Silence envelopes the room, both of you too wrapped up in your own thoughts to see the time passing. You wonder briefly how your friendship has come to this. You’ve never had any bumps where Ten was concerned and these few weeks had been rough. Is it because of your dance project? Were you spending too much time together?
No, that’s not it. The thing is, everything is changing. Too much, too fast.
You’re a bystander watching him fall in love and live his life, and he’s moving on. Without you.
Glancing at him from the corner of your eye, you let out another soft sigh before extending your hand out towards him. A tentative attempt at peace, “friends?”
Ten looks at your hand, before extending his own to clasp yours.
“friends.”
And you know that no matter how much you try to tell yourself to stay away, you’ll always be looking for Ten in the crowd.
——————
What’s weird about it, I’ve figured it out in my head.
I have to say, I got you.
——————
“Are you ready?”
You almost snort out your bubble tea, “no.”
It’s a few days before your final performance and you’re in the cafeteria , mourning over your sugared drink and thinking about how your life is about to end with Professor Lee telling you how inadequate you are at dancing.
This is where Mark had found you a few minutes earlier, looking like you’re about to throw up the contents of your stomach.
“Don’t think about it,” he says now in-between bites of pasta, “it’s all muscle memory by now. You’ll be fine.”
The last few weeks after your sudden outburst with Ten had been peaceful, if you don't count the million of ways in which your heart is breaking every time you spot Ten and Jueun together. Sometimes he valls her during your break. Sometimes, you spot them flirting by the corridor. And sometimes, she joins you for a late night snack in the middle of your dance practice.
"You seem very keen on her," you'd remarked to your best friend one evening after she'd gone out to throw the trash.
Ten's ears blush bright pink, though he doesn't say anything.
That's good enough of an answer for you to put two and two together. Their relationship is moving along just fine and every second of it feels like a punch in the gut.
Still, you hold your head high and a fake smile on your face, hating the fact that she's pretty and feminine and smart, and just everything you're not.
And though you still feel the residual effect of that weird tension building between you and Ten during dance practice, you tempt to brush it off so as not to get your hopes up high. Because apart from the intensity in hid dark orbs when he dances with you, it's like an on and off switch that seems to be merely for the sake of the performance.
That hurts you even more.
"So when are you going to tell him?"
You glance up at Mark, sipping on your tea before you ask, "tell who? And what?"
"Tell Ten that you like him--"
No sooner has Mark spoken that your hand shoots out to clamp over his mouth, eyes widening with panic as you quickly glance around the room with fear.
"What the fuck, Mark?" Your eyes narrow dangerously, "don't day those kinds of things out loud."
"I whash vwandering--" you glare at him, before pulling your hand away to let him talk, "I was wondering when were you going to admit it but since you weren't and the performance is coming up, I feel like you should. For your own good." Is what he says before shoving another forkful of pasta in his mouth.
"What are you talking about? Of course I can't tell him," you snap, "it'll ruin everything!"
"Or make everything better."
"You are out of your mind."
"And you are just running away," Mark leans onto his elbow, throws you a pointed look, "c'mon Y/N, do you really want to leave all these things unsaid? I see the way you look at him."
"No. No way. I'm--you know what, I don't even have to answer you right now."
"Ten would want--"
"He would not," you cut him off harshly, "want me to fuck things up for him and Jueun."
And with that, you collect your bubble tea and backpack, before striding away to the dance studio with rattled footsteps and a pounding heart.
No. No no no. Telling Ten is dangrrous. Telling Ten will. Fuck. Things. Up.
God knows you don't need that right now.
The thought of it haunts you though, in the form of Mark’s words. Even when you spot Professor Lee waiting by your dance classroom. Even when you try to focus on the beats of the music flowing through the speakers as you take this time to stretch and warm up your muscles. Ten comes late, closely followed by Jueun’s figure and that almost feels like a knife stabbing straight through your chest. Someone might’ve as well held up a “Here to Hurt Y/N” sign. You quickly swivel away, face the wall, biting your lip as the familiar sting of tears crawl up your throat.
No. Stop it, your mind chants. That’s not what you’re here for.
That’s right. You have a performance to deliver. An artwork to complete.
“Ready?” Professor Lee’s voice pierces through your inner monologue and you look at her, before your eyes find Ten’s who is already walking over to you.
“Hey,” his hand reaches up to tap your nose, “ready?’
You nod. You don’t really trust your voice at this point.
“We’ve practiced this millions of times,” he murmurs into your ear while you both get into curled up ball positions. Professor Lee stands on the sidelines, flicking through the connected phone for the desired song, “don’t worry. Just dance.”
“Easy for you to say,” you mumble back. Why does Jueun have to be here?
You have half a mind to tell Ten that Jueun needs to get out — you can’t concentrate like this — but it’s too late. The melody begins, a slow thrum that causes your limbs to slowly extend with poetic grace. Just like you and Ten had practiced.
Okay, you think. Focus. You concentrate on the melody, on allowing your body to fold to the words flowing through your song as you kneel and face Ten. His eyes are dark, focused, pinned to yours like you’re everything he’s ever seen. You do the same.
You’re not quite sure how you manage to finish the performance, only realize that it’s over once your forehead presses against Ten’s, breaths intermingling and fingers interlocked and the music drifting away only to leave a silence laden with emotions put on the table. For a minute, no one says a thing.
And then, as if breaking the soft spell that is Ten’s eyes, a soft clap echoes throughout the room.
“Nice,” Professor Lee says, before she beckons you two over. You do just that while trying to catch your breaths and in the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of Jueun, “still a few things you need to work on. First off, your synchronization at the turns and twirls. You need to be careful of that. And Y/N, don’t forget when you lift your leg towards Ten, you need power. Much more power and resistance, like he’s pulling you and you’re fighting against him.”
You nod. She’s right. As she always is.
“In terms of the technique, I think you just need more practice. It looks good overall though,” she pauses for a minute, then continues, “but Ten, for god’s sake, you need to look at her when you’re dancing. Don’t look as if you’re dancing with a corpse. She’s your best friend, you’re supposed to love her. She’s one of the most important people in your life. Is she not?”
Ten mumbles out something that sounds like “yes”, though he shuffles his feet like a guilty kid.
“So show me that she means that much to you!” Professor Lee exclaims, “you look like you want to be anywhere but here. That’s no good. I wasn’t expecting that from you. Y/N,” she gives you a once-over, then nods, “the emotion are there. Loving the facial expressions so keep that up. Show this man how to do it.”
It isn’t until Professor Lee is out of the room that you manage to let out a sigh of relief, “jesus,” you look up at the ceiling and feel like you’ve just aged ten years, “she scares the fuck out of me.”
Ten doesn’t respond. You glance at him, only to notice his glazed over look as if he’s still contemplating what your teacher just said.
“Ten,” you nudge his arm, “you okay? She’s always a little harsh. Don’t take it the wrong way—“
“Yeah I know,” he cuts you off, “we should keep practicing the techniques.”
Something has shifted in his expression, though you can’t really pinpoint what it is.
The rest of practice goes smoothly enough and Jueun leaves at some point, probably bored with constantly hearing the same music. At some point, tiredness takes over, causing you to flop onto the floor and look up at the ceiling. Your muscles are aching, you know tomorrow’s going to be a battle to get up from bed.
“I can’t feel my legs anymore,” Ten crouches next to you before he flops, head landing on your stomach and causing you to grunt at his weight.
“You’re heavy,” you try to shove him off, hating how quickly your cheeks flush with heat at the close proximity. Ten grabs a hold of your sweater with a pout, “nooo.”
“We’ve got a lot to work on,” you murmur, though it sounds loud in the silence of the room.
“I’ve got a lot to work on,” Ten tilts his head up at you, “apparently I don’t seem to look at you the right way.”
“That’s because you take me for granted.”
“Shut up.”
“Just imagine there’s Jueun in front of you and you’ll be fine.”
A pause. Before he asks, “do you imagine someone else when we’re dancing together?”
“What?” Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. You lift yourself up with your elbows, enough to catch sight of Ten’s face. It’s hard to say what you find there, since it’s not a face you’re acquired to seeing, “no. I—no.”
“Do you think of Taeyong?”
“I don’t like Taeyong,” you state flatly, “and I think everyone knows that.”
“So who do you think about then?”
“Just—well, you. I guess.”
And then, you realize the weight of the words that had just blurted out of your mouth. You clamp them shut, teeth finding purchase onto your lower lip as you rest your head back against the floor with a mental scream. Oh shit. Have you said a little too much?
You brace yourself for the worst. Ten will either make fun of you, or he’ll just ask you to clarify your words. Eyes squeeze shut on their own accord, as if just waiting for this dreadful silence to end.
But Ten does neither of those things.
Instead he says, “I’m hungry. Wanna get food?”
“Uh—“ your brain backtracks, “sure.”
Looking back at Ten’s questions, it was clear that he was trying to figure out the intensity of emotions flowing through you whenever you danced with him, whether that came out intentionally or not. It’s not like you want him to know you long, yearn for him to be yours. But there are some things — you learn — that cannot be hidden no matter how much you try.
The next few practices feel weird, leave you buzzing for no reason at all. It’s like a switch has suddenly been switched on inside your best friend. Gone are his shy touches and tentative steps to close the gap between you. Ten reaches for you with a confidence now, with some kind of fluid grace that makes you wonder whether he knows what you’re trying to hide in the grooves of your heart.
But it’s not just that. It’s the way he looks at you that changes. Every single time your gazes lock, something intangible flickers in those dark orbs, something that causes your heart to do a cartwheel because goddamnit, Ten is hot when he wants to be.
And you hate yourself even more for thinking this way.
When you’re not practicing, you’re at Mark’s house and bribing him into keeping this whole ordeal a secret. He manages to come to some kind of agreement begrudgingly after you swear you’ll treat him to a month full of dimsum, but swears that once the performance is over you’ll have to say something because, as he reasoned, it wouldn’t be fair for Ten not to know.
You have no clue how he’s come to such a conclusion. But that’s good enough, for now.
Meanwhile, you start cherishing every single moment you spend with your best friend. You hug him more often — when you’re taking a break from practice, when you’re all sweaty and use that as an excuse to rub your face on his sweater, when he’s lying in the middle of the floor playing with his phone — and tease him mercilessly about Jueun while trying to ignore every crack in your heart at each word that escapes your mouth. If she makes him happy, who are you to step in their way?
Bubble tea trips in the middle of practice becomes a more frequent occurrence when you start spending even more time in the studio to polish up your moves. Whenever that happens, you find yourselves sitting down at a park bench and gazing up at the stars. One of those rare moments you get to breathe and just exist.
Ten would often entertain you with stories of his childhood before moving here, and in return you’d tell him about yours. You spoke about the food you’d want to eat after the exam, the things you’d like to do once you’re free as birds. He tells you about his wish to travel to Europe and you tell him about your desire to go roadtripping towards the coast of the country so that you can camp out and heal from those four hard years of university.
“We should go,” Ten says, dark orbs glimmering with excitement in the dim light of the park, “we could go with all the boys.”
“With the boys? Someone will be found dead if we do that,” you snicker, taking a few sips of your drink, “Yangyang will probably set something on fire, Winwin will find a way to hurt himself or hurt something, and Mark—“
“Mark will get himself piss drunk,” Ten finishes with a cackle, “oh Mark. What a dork.”
Times like these with Ten are magical. Simple, yet filled with so much of yourself that it fills your heart up, makes you all giddy. You wish you can stay like this with him forever, in that small slither of time where the moment belongs to you, and you only.
Alas, the time flies when you’re not looking and all too soon it’s the day of the final performance. As you lay in bed that morning, feeling all of your muscles protest in unison as you stretch your legs, realization creeps up on you; this is the last time you’ll get to perform on stage as a student. This is your official last dance, with no more to come in the future.
Possibly the first and last dance you'll ever get with your best friend.
Your heart aches at the thought.
Participants are to be prepared at five in the evening, two hours before the show starts. Ten doesn't hesitate to give you a small peptalk as you both peek through the dark curtains separating you from the rest of the world. Other dancers are busy milling about and the sheer amount of them just adds on to the growing stress building inside your tummy, not helping in the slightest.
"You'll be fine," Ten keeps on repeating, unconsciously brushing away strands of your hair. You're both already in your costumes -- basic beige pants and white shirts -- and are waiting behind the curtains, box of chinese takeaways forgotten in the corridor at your feet as you try to stop the flurry of panic from crashing into you.
"I need to practice that twirl," you tell him with panicked eyes, "and that weird pause at the end, we still haven't figured that out--"
"Y/N, Y/N," Ten's hands are quick to grab your wrists, before he gently lowers them to your sides, "you'll be fine. We will be fine. I promise. We practiced this dance every day for the past month. There's no way you can make a mistake."
"Oh don't say that, that doesn't help."
His eyes flash with determination. His hand slips to yours before he gives it a gentle squeeze, "I'm here aren't I?" He says softly, "if you fall, I fall. We're soing this together, hm?"
Yeah sure. Except Ten dances like he's made to and you're just a potato in comparison.
Still, you allow yourself to nod. You really do hope that he's right this time. The last thing you want from this performance is the memory of you falling over onstage. And definitely not with Ten in tow.
"Where's Jueun?" You realize you haven't seen her since rehearsal this morning, glancing behind Ten as if she'd appear by magic.
Ten shifts his weight on his other foot, "she was busy this morning, but she said she'll be there for the performance."
"How is it going with her anyway?"
Something darkens on his face. He looks away, "it's complicated."
Huh. Complicated. That's not a word he uses often. Out of curiosity, you can't help but push, "why's that?"
But as if on cue, the intercom buzzes to warn all dancers to be on standby and all your words suddenly fall short when another wave of anziety surges up through your chest.
You clutch at Ten's hands, "oh god. I'm going to be sick."
"You can be sick after our performance," Ten proceeds to lead you to your standby spot, bowing to some of your classmates on the way, "swallow it if you have to."
"Ew," you grimace, "that's disgusting."
You admit that it does help take your mind off things.
"Don't worry about the steps," Ten keeps murmuring into your ear as you join the line for the stage. You can spot the dim lights of the stage, the silhouettes waiting for your appearance, and the MC for the night already giving thanks to whoever sponsor has helped this night come to life.
Oh god. Oh no. It's happening. It's finally happening. Your knees start shaking and you try to wipe your sweaty hands on your pants. The MC asks for encouragement and cheers follow, filling the auditorium with so much excitement it makes your throat run dry with stress.
“We’re number three,” you hear Ten’s voice near your ear, as if hearing him through a film of glass, “we have some time.”
You nod, lick the cracks along your lips.
You really don’t want to mess this up. If not for you, then for Ten.
“Hey.”
Ten’s hands cup your cheeks, tilts your face up so that you have no choice but to look at him.
“We’re doing this together,” his eyes, a dark storm, makes you shiver, “alright?”
Your head dips into a single nod.
“No regrets,” he says.
“No regrets,” you repeat softly.
“Have fun.”
“Have fun.”
His forehead touches yours, “exactly.”
You’ve never had him so close and what normally would’ve flustered you to death actually comforts you in this very moment. So you lean into him, closing your eyes to breathe in his boyish scent, the scent of familiarity, the scent of what home means to you.
And maybe it’s the fact that it is going to be your last dance, maybe it’s the fact that you’ll have to carry those feelings to your grave that causes tears to sting the corner of your eyes, but you quickly reach out to hug him close, blinking them away fiercely while hiding into the crook of his neck.
You don’t know how long you stay like this, snug in your best friend’s arms until you hear the MC’s voice booming across the stage:
“Next up we have ‘I Got You’ performed by Ten and Y/N! Give it up for them please!”
You pull away reluctantly, blink at his one last look of encouragement followed by a small pat on the back, before you direct yourself towards the stage, Ten close on your heels.
“Ready?” He whispers, hand suddenly catching yours. He gives it a squeeze.
You squeeze back, “break a leg.”
————
Dark.
Everything is so dark.
Silence.
Only your breath, and Ten’s, a few meters away.
You feel him standing in position, and you do the same. Your heart beats so loud you wonder if the audience can hear it too.
And then, the melody slowly fills the room and as if on autopilot, your body starts swaying.
A place to crash, I got you
Your leg swings in a circle and you crouch, face slowly lifting to catch Ten’s eye. A golden glow bounces off his face.
No need to ask, I got you
Just get on the phone, I got you
Slowly, as slow as a trickle of water moulding its way through the cracks, everything comes back to you.
Come and pick you up if I have to
The movement, the emotion thrumming through your veins makes adrenaline push your body forward as you slowly give in to the sensation of dancing.
Just figured it out in my head
I’m proud to say
I got you
There’s only you. And Ten. And no one else. His orbs flash to yours, and you dare a small smile.
He smiles back.
And the beat drops.
Go ahead and say goodbye, I’ll be alright
Go ahead and make me cry, I’ll be alright
It feels like flying, twirling through the air before rolling to the floor. Ten follows, hand reaching up to cradle your face. You throw your head back before he’s tugging you and as electricity sizzles between your bodies, you close your eyes to bathe in the moment.
And when you need a place to run to
For better or worse, I got you
Everything comes rushing back. A tidal wave of memories that pull you under; you and Ten dancing in front of the mirror, sharing a laugh. You and Ten talking about life under faint streetlights. You and Ten locking eyes, and the storm, that dark stormy night you find there.
The bridge comes on and you start walking to the edge of the stage, every beat vibrating through your core.
Cause this is love and life
And nothing we can both control
You close your eyes; Ten’s face flashes through your mind.
Those beautiful eyes. The curve of his mouth. The pain of letting him go.
And if it don’t feel right, you’re not losing me by letting me know
Hands grip your shoulders, spin you around.
Eyes burning with tears, you let his arms crush you to his chest.
And just as the crescendo hits, your arms lock around his neck.
His mouth crushes yours.
For a milisecond, you’re startled at his action.
Your heart drops to your stomach, brain freezing up like you’ve just dunked your head in ice.
It’s a good kiss. A beautiful kiss.
A kiss that makes you lose all breath.
The crowd practically goes wild with cheers and shouts that fill the entire room.
And then it’s over.
You’re dancing again.
Go ahead and say goodbye, I’ll be alright
Go ahead and make me cry, I’ll be alright
Your mind is frazzled even when your body follows theough with the rest of the dance. What the fuck was this? Did Ten do it in the heat of the moment?
Your brain is flooding with questions that don’t make sense.
And when you need a place to run to
For better or worse, I got you
You stand, foreheads pressed together and chests heaving, as your eyes flutter up to find his.
That’s it. That’s the end of it.
An eerie silence. Only broken when the applause suddenly floods the room followed by a few calls and wolf whistles. A series of ‘encore! Encore!’ Make your eyes pound as loud as your heart and as you turn to breathlessly bow to the public, you can’t dent the heat rushing through you at the way Ten’s hand is locked on yours.
You wait though, until you’re past the corridors and until you’ve reached the sanctuary of your audition room before slamming the door shut and whirling around on him with flares nostrils and barely restrained anger.
“What the fuck was that?”
Ten’s chest is still heaving, still recuperating from your performance. He’s looking at you with some kind of emotion you can’t make out and you wonder, for a second, what this means for you. What it means to him.
“Ten,” your breaths come out ragged. You keep your eyes on him, demanding answers, “I asked you what the fuck that was.”
It takes a while before he answers. When he does he sounds weary, “I—don’t know. It was an ‘in the moment’ thing.” A pause that fills the gap for a little too long before he continues, “I’m sorry.”
An in the moment thing. You want to scoff, to hurl something at his face. What does that even mean?
Fury boils through your stomach. What about Jueun? What about everyone who will now think there’s something going on between the two of you? What about your feelings for the said man standing right in front of you and telling you that this didn’t mean anything to him?
What about you?
“I hate you,” your eyes start prickling with tears. Everything you’ve kept inside until now starts pouring over until you see red, “I really hate you, Ten.”
And you whirl around and walk away without waiting for him to call you back.
He doesn’t.
————
“What. A. Kiss.”
“Shut up Mark,” you turn your head to the other side so that you don’t have to look at him, to picture the satisfaction on his face, “I don’t want to hear this right now.”
It’s a shame that you had left right after the performance soon after it ended in hopes of avoiding the crowd. Not that it would help considering that rumours are already flying about like bees buzzing through the air as soon as you left.
Mark confirms that Ten had departed a few minutes after you did and that Jueun was not impressed with the whole ordeal.
You scoff at that, “duh, was she supposed to be happy about that?”
“Have you spoken to Ten since?” Mark decides to ignore your question. He takes a seat at the other end of your couch, jostling your leg in the process.
You try to shove him off with your foot, “obviously not. Why would I do such a thing? It’s awkward enough as it is.”
“So this wasn’t planned?” Mark whistles, leaning back to rest against the couch, “wow. Wow. You guys are amazing—“
“No no,” you scowl at him, “you mean a disaster.”
“Look on the bright side, you got to kiss him—“
“Mark,” your scowl deepens, “do not make me throw my slipper at your face.”
There is no way in hell you could’ve anticipated that kiss and even despite all your rebuttals at Mark’s attempts at teasing, the colour rushing to your cheeks and the way your chest fills up with butterflies proves you otherwise.
You can still feel Ten’s lips on yours, a blissful echo of what could have been, a soft tingling that sends blood rushing all the way to your toes. There are so many things you want to ask him, so many possibilities flourishing in your mind with that one simple kiss and yet, you’re so wary of having your world crashing down on your shoulders because why else would Ten do it if not for your performance?
“Have you?” You ask Mark after some time, albeit reluctantly, “spoken to Ten?”
He shakes his head, “haven’t seen him actually. He literally disappeared off the face of the earth after the show.”
“Yeah,” you grimace, “wouldn’t think so.”
There’s part hope and part fear splitting you down in the middle but you don’t dare dream of what could be. You can’t allow yourself to, because every time you do causes an image of the hurt on Jueun’s face to flash through your mind.
You’re not that girl. You are definitely not that girl.
But what you do need are answers. And something tells you that you won’t get any unless you ask him for yourself.
So it’s a week later that you find your way to his flat, feet shuffling as you try and concoct up the conversation, map it out in your head so that it doesn’t sound as bad. After your last conversation with him, you’re not quite sure where he stands himself.
An in the moment thing.
His words bounce off your skull, terrorizing you with the weight they hold.
You take a deep breathe. Exhale softly. Then reach up to ring the doorbell.
Only for the door to swing open, almost slamming into your face.
“Oh, hi!” Jueun’s voice causes you to blink. Jueun, standing at the door with nothing but a t-shirt that’s definitely too big for her — Ten’s— and a towel wrapped around her petite waist. She blinks back at you in confusion before offering a small smile, “what are you doing here?”
“Wh—“ you don’t even get the chance to ask her yourself when Ten’s voice rings out behind her, “who is it?”
Jueun hollers into the apartment, “it’s Y/N!” Before turning back to you, a grin now bestowed upon her face, “sorry I—I was just about done with my shower. Ten’s in there now. You were looking for Ten right?“ She opens the door a little wider, “do you want to come in?”
Oh for fuck’s sake. Someone is up there in the skies laughing at you right now. You feel like a complete, utter idiot.
“N-No that’s alright,” you somehow manage a smile, though it probably looks as fake as it can get but Jueun doesn’t need to know that. She doesn’t know you after all, “I—Just tell Ten I’ll swing by later—“
“He’ll be out soon though, I have drinks if you want some.”
“No really,” you’re already taking a step back. And another, and another, “it’s alright. I think—I’ll call him later.”
“But—“
You don’t wait. You dash down the corridor, fly down the stairs like your life depends on it, and don’t stop running until you find yourself in the safety of the bus station. Leaning against the lamplight while catching your breath, you struggle to put all images into one coherent thought as dread slowly pools in around you, wraps you up in its horrifying embrace, stuffing out any hope you might’ve had that Ten felt the same way you did.
You’re not sure whether to cry or to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
Your heart hurts. In all kinds of ways. Tugging and pulling and being torn apart as though someone had been tossing it over in their hands before chucking it out of the window. Then, the pain starts to settle like a rock lodging itself in your chest where your heart should be.
It hurts.
You bite down hard on your lower lip. Hard, until the salty taste of blood hits your tongue.
You don’t feel it though. Not when your heart is the one breaking all over again.
—————
“Are you sure you don’t need anything?”
You can’t help but grin up at the worry dotting Mark’s expression looking like a kicked puppy that just had its bone taken away.
“I’ll be fine,” you swat him playfully on the arm, “and atop looking at me like that. You’re going to see me in a week.”
In a week is your graduation and the day of results. You haven’t spoken to Ten over the past two weeks that have flown by and had merely asked about him through his circle of friends in hopes of scraping by with some crumbs you can try picking up with both hands.
You wonder if Ten is thinking of you as much as you are thinking of him. Everything you’ve built up until this very moment had been raw and true and felt real at least to you. The question lies in whether it had been the same thing for him or if it had all just been a fogged up lie, whether he still thinks there are things that he should’ve kept to himself despite the fact that you’ve known him for so long.
In an attempt to rid yourself of all these stupid feelings you’ve tried burying in the grooves of your heart this past month, you’ve agreed to fly out to visit your mother on the other side of the country. A little peace and time away from the university is never a bad thing after all. You’ll be back in time for the results, although you’re not quite sure how that will turn out when you and your best friend aren’t on the best of speaking terms.
“Have fun at your mom’s,” Mark’s arms wrap around you in a soft warm hug, pressing his cheek to the top of your head, “and don’t worry too much about Ten. I wouldn’t. You know how—“
“Yes Mark,” you pull back to offer him a small smile,”I know.”
All too well, you want to add. But you don’t dare say it out loud.
Bidding Mark one more goodbye, you give him one last hug before making your way inside the airport to check-in. It’s bustling at this time of day, filled with students going back home for the holidays or families flying in on vacation, but you find yourself humming under your breath as you go stand in line for your luggage, the good vibes finally catching up to you. For the first time in a while, you allow your shoulders to fall back and relax as you take in the bustle and the noise shuffling around you. It’s been so long since you’ve actually spent time admiring, observing your surroundings that you sometimes forget the beauty of simplicity, of living life just as it is when it isn’t confined to all your inner problems.
And then, as if karma really wants you to suffer,your phone chimes. You glance down and almost gasp at the name flashing across your screen:
Ten: where are you?
Anger flares. Boils through you. How dare he, after all this time, now come around to ask you how you’re doing?
The hypocrite.
You type back your reply with barely restrained anger: I’m leaving today.
His answer comes almost instantly.
Ten: I know. Mark told me about it.
You swear you’re going to strangle that guy the next time you see him.
Y/N: That’s none of your business. And it’s too late anyway.
With that, you lock your phone and drop it back into your backpack even when you feel another buzz vibrate through your jeans. You’re not about to give him that satisfaction of knowing that he still has you hooked around his finger even if deep down you’re all too aware that you’re whipped for him. So whipped you’re so tempted to drop everything to run back to him, to make things good again, the way they always had been.
No. You shake your head in hopes that will clear every toxic thought invading your head.
Thankfully, you’re next in line to check-in and that’s enough to take your mind off the pulsating device throbbing through the material of your backpack and seeping into your jeans. Your fingers, itching to make a grab for the said device, curl onto the folds of your passport as the worker quickly ushers your luggage through the weighing machine roll.
“Thank you. Your gate is E7 and you will just have to check through security at the very back if you turn on your left,” she motions towards the said area and you nod, thanking her with a small smile before slipping out of the queue with another loud breath escaping your lips. God. You need this vacation to start already, or you’ll have to start finding other things to take your mind off—
Strong hands grip your shoulders. Whirl you around so fast you barely have time to blink.
Only to come face to face with none other than Ten Lee in the flesh.
“Wha—“ the words are knots that tangle up your tongue. Your mouth feels like it’s suddenly been filled with sandpaper, “what—what are you doing here?”
“Stopping you from leaving,” Ten is breathless, sweat dotting his hairline and chest heaving as if he’s just sprinted over. His bangs are disheveled and you want nothing more than to run your hands through his messy locks. Your hand curls into a fist in response as he continues, “where are you going? And why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why should I tell you anything?” You scowl back, “I thought we weren’t on speaking terms, considering you were ignoring me and all.”
“I wasn’t ignoring—“
“Oh please Ten,” you roll your eyes, “as if you didn’t know I came to your house that day when Jueun opened the door.”
“Wai—What? What are you talking about?” His confused expression seems all too genuine for it to be an act and gathering up the last bit of patience you have left, you allow yourself to exhale shakily, try and coax your emotions to simmer down, “I came to your house. Two weeks ago. Jueun answered the door and the rest of was self-explanatory—“
“Jueun? When was that? That’s— I don’t remember her being here—“ realization suddenly dawns and you feel like scoffing in satisfaction. That is, until he says, “I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there when Jueun was, Y/N.”
“Bullshit. She told me you were in the shower—“
“Yeah, in the dance studio. Not home,” his eyes had turned dark, stormy. Something inside you starts trembling as you watch his jaw clench, “she dropped by to fetch her things. That was the last time I saw her.”
There’s a distinct pause where you try to assimilate everything that had just come out of Ten’s mouth.
There’s surprise. Shock. And then, all the missing pieces start coming together.
“Is this why you haven’t called me at all, all this time?” Ten’s question bursts your bubble of thought. You blink, realizing that he’s standing before you in the flesh with something soft and tender in his gaze that makes your entire body light up with heat.
He takes a step closer. You take a step back. Amusement flickers across his face, until it is wiped out by your statement: “well you haven’t bothered calling me either.”
“Yeah, because the last thing you told me after the performance was that you hated me.”
“You said our kiss was just an ‘in the moment’ thing. How do you think I’d react?”
“I don’t know Y/N,” the frustration in Ten’s voice is clear. It’s probably the first time you see him so out of sorts. It surprises you, “what was I supposed to say? That I’ve been trying not to kiss you from the moment we’ve had our evaluation with Professor Lee? That my interest in Jueun just flopped the moment I realized I didn’t like her as much as I loved you? What—What did you expect me to say, Y/N?”
Silence. Only broken when you mumble, “well. This is clearly enough.”
It’s probably his words that render him red-faced and embarrassed, for he looks away and starts mumbling intelligible words under his breath without real meaning and in that particular moment, seeing Ten looking so lost and bearing his heart out to you with such genuine emotion makes your own heart quake in your chest.
Ten likes you. Just as you like him. He loves you. He’s been thinking about you, and that in itself causes a troop of butterflies to suddenly erupt through your insides.
You don’t even think about it as your hands come up to grab his t-shirt before pulling him in.
Your lips press against his. They’re trembling, but the warmth from Ten’s mouth is enough to boost your confidence.
His breaths, small stutters of air between your parted lips, make you press even closer if that’s possible. You kiss his next breath away and relish in the soft gasp that echoes out of his throat.
Warm hands slowly cup your face, trailing down your neck to drop at your waist while yours find their resting place by his jaw. You feel him kiss back, the softest movement of lip against lip, and you swear you almost lose it.
‘Y/N,” he breathes, voice drugged and hoarse, against you, before he proceeds to take over the kiss and kiss you a little deeper. You’ve kissed before onstage, but this is completely different. It feels completely different. You can’t help but sigh as Ten pulls you inevitably closer, tilting his head to the side as your mouths start moving together in a slow, hesitant dance that makes you tremble.
This. This is all you’ve ever wanted. Ten, in your arms. You and him, with nothing but your feelings out in the open, bared over the table for both of you to see. There’s some kind of soft glow of warmth that seems to seep through your veins the more you keep on kissing and kissing as if your entire life depends on it, and out of impulse you tighten your grip on the back of his neck, fingers sliding up to cascade through his dark locks. You hear him groan out softly in response, and that causes you to smile into the kiss.
You pull away after a short while upon realizing that you’re still in a public area, foreheads resting against each other and sharing the same breaths.
“I’m sorry,” you murmur out.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats with more emphasis. And maybe it’s the mood, the fact that you’re in his arms and that allows him to let out a small laugh. You join in too and wonder briefly how stupidly in love you both look, like those main actors in sappy romance movies. Not that you can care.
The airport speaker suddenly breaks the spell when your flight is called for boarding. You almost jump out of the skin as realization pours through you.
“Oh shit,” you let out another laugh,”I have a flight to catch.”
That only makes Ten tighten his hold, “when will you be back?”
The desperation in his voice causes a grin to break across your face. You lean in, cupping his cheek with your hand, “I’ll be back next Sunday.”
“Okay,” he turns his head to press a kiss to your palm, “I can wait that long.”
He accompanies you all the way to the security line and just before you walk through the sliding doors, tugs you back by your pinky finger with that sort of guilty look that little boys would give their mothers when they were found out with their hands in the cookie jar.
You look up at him with a grin. Although, you’re not sure your grinning has stopped ever since that kiss, “I will be back. Don’t worry—“
“I know I know,” Ten lifts your hand to his lips, presses another kiss on the back of your knuckles, “I’m just beating myself up for being such an idiot.”
There are still so many things left unsaid between you, so many things to unpack about your relationship and where you want to take it from there. But standing in front of Ten right now makes nothing but happiness glow through your skin, through the grooves of your heart. It finally feels right, everything falling in place like it was meant to be, and the grief that you’d been carrying around all his time has suddenly vanished as if there had been a clear blue sky all along.
“I’ll come back to you,” you smile up at him when he’s tugged you once more into his arms, “I promise.”
He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, “I’ll hold on to that promise so you better not break it.”
“See you soon then?”
Ten pulls back then, searches your gaze for a long minute in silence. And then, as tenderly as a soft caress, he leans down to drop another kiss on your mouth.
“Come back to me.”
————
A/N: Hello and if you’ve reached the end of this story, thank you so much for reading this till the end!! It’s a long and a tough read and honestly I practically had a writer’s block for 1 month over this thing. This was supposed to come out end of June but ehhh, life happens I guess!! Anyway, I hope you liked this and I am forever grateful, as always, for your support. Thank you so much for reading my work and for following my blog. I might not know all of you, but every single one of you has made my day a little brighter every time I come onto here. It feels like home.
Stay safe and see you in the next fic!! Xx
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babbymochiiii · 2 months
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Would love a part 2 for ten's on my youth😭
ON MY YOUTH: TEN LEE pt. 2
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↪︎pairing: idol! Ten x ngs! reader
↪︎genre: angst
↪︎warnings: crying, missing one another, more crying, confrontation, minor yelling, even more crying...it's a lot of painful memories for these two folks, some sort of a hopeful outcome for the two..?
↪︎requested: YES [✔️] NO [ ]
↪︎ word count: 1.7k words
↪︎synopsis: ten goes to your apartment to speak to you in person about everything that is going on between the two of you...will things clear up between you both?
link to part 1 🤎
note ⭐️: hello to my first anon! 🥰 here’s part 2 for you babes MWAH 😚🖤
requests/ask open! ✨
divider credit @iluvrei 🖤
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“Can we talk?” 
You felt your entire body freeze at the sound of his voice being muffled by the door that stands between the two of you.  
A sigh is heard from him along with something else that you couldn’t quite catch. “Listen...I know you're on the other side of the door, and honestly, I don’t blame you for not wanting to open the door.” He gently speaks out.  
“I really need to talk to you. I get you don’t want to talk to me after what I did, I could’ve texted you, but I want to do this in person…please.” His voice cracked at the end causing your hammering heart to break a little to see how affected he is by this as you are.  
Contemplating between if you should answer the door or not, your body had a different reaction than what you planned. You subconsciously opened the door to find yourself facing Ten with tears pooling in your eyes.  
A sudden wetness falls onto your face as you look upon the light tinge of red around Ten’s eyes and just the way he looked so tired.  
“y/n…” Ten spoke softly as he looked at you. Truly looking at you and seeing how you mirror his own expression as well. Tired and completely broken.  
Before you could respond, you felt arms crushing you against their owner’s chest as they pulled you into a comforting hug that missed so much. Feeling Ten’s arms around you, his scent, just everything about him makes you completely break down once again.  
Stuttered shushing sounds come from Ten as he holds you close to him. Cradling your head as he places soft kisses on the top of your head as be too cried softly with you.  
You pulled away from Ten, everything being too much for your heart as he held you so close.  
“Why — why do you want to talk now?” You questioned him as you tried to calm down and wipe at the tears still falling down your eyes.  
“I want to make things right.” Ten said as he gulps down the painful lump in his throat that he knew was from trying to hold back as many tears as he could.  
You looked at ten for a few seconds before softly nodding your head and letting him inside of your apartment.  
Ten slowly made his way to the couch. His eyes scanned the area as nostalgic memories ran through his mind causing a small smile to play on his lips.  
A soft familiar murmur of a sound catches his attention to where he looks down to see your phone still on and playing his group’s recent album. What struck him is that it was playing “On My Youth”. He felt his face heat up at the thought of you listening to the song.  
Ten felt himself suck in a breath as he looked towards you where you looked at him with a thin smile as you too waited for his reaction.  
“Y-you listened to the song?” Ten asks slowly as he brought his attention back to the phone and then slowly looked back at you.  
“Yeah…” you trailed off softly as you walked over and gently took hold of your phone and pausing the song.  
Silence wrapped around the two of you as it did in the practice room where you both last saw one another.  
You both spoke up at the same time to say something, but closed your mouths as you didn’t want to interrupt one another.  
You felt your face flush in embarrassment as you looked down to your feet before you looked up at Ten again, and saw that he too felt embarrassed at the way the tip of his ears flushed an alarming red.  
Silence once again surrounds the two of you, both not knowing what to say or how to approach the situation.  
“Ten— “  
“I regret what I did to you…” Ten blurts out, interrupting your sentence.  
You felt your eyebrows crease together, creating small folds between one another as you wait for what else ten has to say.  
A small sigh escapes from Ten as he takes hold of the border of his shirt and starts to fold it around his fingers, a nervous habit that he tends to have. “I…regret everything I have wronged you for. You are worth so much more than for how I’ve treated you since I’ve came back from the tour. I know that I have no excuses, therefore I’m not really sure how to tell you this without making you double guess our whole relationship. But what I did, I honestly thought was for the best— “  
“Ten…” you sighed out as you felt the hot tears stinging your eyes.  
“Please, hear me out…” ten said as he too started to feel his tears sting fiercely at his eyes. “I thought it was for the best because I wasn’t always with you. And yes, you waited for me like the absolute fucking wonderful woman you are. I felt like I was weighing you down from the things you could be doing with your friends and how you can meet new people.” Ten choked at the end causing him to look down at the floor trying not to let you see him cry.  
“I thought what I was doing was selfless. That I was doing the absolute best for you and what was in your best interest.”  
“You won’t know what it’s my best interest if you don’t ask me!” You cried out as you pointed towards yourself, feeling all the emotions from that die rise up within you again but all you could truly feel was sadness. Just general sadness due to the situation. “How could you say you’re being selfless when it’s the most selfish thing you’ve done in our relationship?” You questioned as you stepped closer to him and pointed an accusing finger his way.  
“Selfish?” Ten gasped as he looks at you a confused-frowned look on his face. “How is that being selfish!?” Ten countered as he looked at you with genuine confusion.  
You felt your blood boil at the fact that he couldn’t see from where you were coming from. “You made that decision! Not me, you! You decided what was best for me without talking to me!” You said as you started to lightly jab your finger into his shoulder to drive your point further.  
“You ignored me!”  
“Because you ignored me! How was I supposed to know that you wanted to talk to me when all you did was give me the coldest fucking shoulder ever!” You shouted as you started to feel somewhat dizzy because of the whole ordeal as new emotions began to surround the two of you.  
“Y/n please— “  
“No, you listen to me now!” You cried as you pushed at his shoulders with the palm of your hand. “You broke me into tiny fucking pieces for those long months and not once did you even bat an eye when I needed you most!”  
“I was distancing myself!” Ten defended.  
“Distancing yourself!? Why? Because you were being “selfless”?” You air quoted towards him, continuing to let the anger inside of you take control of the situation.  
“Baby please— “  
“Don’t baby me! I’m not your baby anymore!” You cried as you felt the anger turn into tears the more you kept fighting him. “I’m not your partner anymore! You have no right— “you sobbed as you fisted Ten’s shirt into the palm of your hands as the emotional pain was too much to bear. “—you have no right to call me that name or any pet and at that point.”  
“I want you back.” Ten softly spoke out above the sounds of your sobs.  
This causes you to quiet down significantly enough that it causes you to look up in confusion. “You what?” You said as you continued to cry but tried to calm down as you tried to listen to what he had to say.  
“I want you back, y/n. I was being selfish yes…I was distancing myself but all it did was making me want you more than ever before. I love you. I can’t stop thinking about you and the way you are just so perfect…I’ve been in such deep regret it’s not fair.” Ten cries as he takes hold of your face in between his hands just admiring your facial features as if it was his first time.  
 “It’s not fair, that I can’t have you the way I used to. Call you whenever. Text you and send you the most random things I can find.” A small laugh escapes his mouth as more tears fall down his eyes. “You are my world, and I broke you into tiny pieces that not even myself can pick it up because of how much damage I’ve done you.”  
“I’m so sorry y/n. Please, you don’t have to accept it. I just want you to know that everything I’ve done to you since then has been nothing, but excuses and I want to make up for it to you baby.” Ten said as he rubbed away the tears that have silently fallen from your eyes.  
“How do you expect me to trust you again?” You cried harder as you felt your heart tug at his words, but you felt so conflicted knowing you wanted to be with him but the fact you couldn’t find a way to trust him just yet.  
“We can work on it. I-I— “ten stuttered as he felt his heart break at the utter sadness and broken expression on your face. “—I’ll work on myself." he whispered.  
Ten closed his eyes and placed his forehead against yours gently. “I’ll work on myself, then I’ll come back and gain your trust. I want you to fully trust me and know that I love you. I can’t stand knowing that it won’t be the same as before, but it happens. Everything and everyone change but I can’t have you hating me.” He gently whispered.  
“Please wait for me.” Ten cried as he placed a tender kiss on your forehead.  
“I’ll wait for you.”  
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ahhhh what for you guys think??? writing this honestly hurt my soul ✋🏼😩
should there be a part 3 or just leave it as is? 🤔 genuinely curious to see what y’all think…
as you know requests/asks is open! don’t be shy and lemme know what y’all think or want done 😚🖤
With so much love from me to you MWAH MWAH 🖤
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Text
Let’s celebrate - Ten (NCT)
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You may like: Ghost of You with Nakamoto Yuta
Mr. Chittaphon released Birthday what ended up leading me to write this little drabble and if I don't post today I might give up tomorrow so here it goes.
Warnings: suggestive content, not too much, but still. A little bit of angst and fluff, age gap (not specific, but the girl is over 20).
MINORS DNI
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He shouldn't be there he knew that.
He was upset, he'd heard the whole story from Johnny: your ex boyfriend making a scene in front of everyone on your birthday, how dare he, after all the harm he's done you, ruin your special day. Ten should be there, taking care of you, even dragging him out if necessary to keep you safe and happy.
She was not supposed to open the door but he was praying that she would, he thanked the gods when the sound of the safety lock rang and she appeared, few seconds and he noticed how her eyes were a little red and her face swollen, damn it she had cried. Ten held on as long as he could as she threw herself into his arms, the familiar scent invading his mind, doesn't take long before his lips were connected to the girl's.
- I missed you baby!
None of this should be happening, to be honest Ten still believed that Johnny would kill him if he found out he was sneaking around with his little sister, but he couldn't help it, not when he was so in love with her.
- You didn't show up...
- Jaehyun made me take the night shift- his hands slowly found their way down to her waist and Ten let a sigh out without realizing when she pull him closer- I'm sorry baby I'm here now.
Soon she was lying on the bed with a half-naked Ten on top of her, he was ecstatic at the sight in front of him, God he wanted her so badly, he didn't understand how anyone in their right mind could even think of hurting her like that idiot had done.
- You've been waiting for me all night, right little girl? - Ten knew that in any other day she would refute his words just to annoy him, but tonight she was silent a shy smile on her lips as she return his loving gaze, the fact that she didn't deny his statement sending shivers trought his body- I promise I'll take good care of you so let me love you- cute, he thought when he realized that her face was a little flushed, his hands soon traced their way down her body as wet kisses were placed on the sensitive spot on her neck - let's celebrate tonight the way you deserve it, baby.
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