#but seeing someone talk about how much he means to them still warms my heart....

[typemoonconfessions]

[luveline]

hi jade! ☺️☺️ ur one of my favorite writers gosh you feed my heart everyday

im currently going through my usual body-wrecking periods 🥲 ur fics are helping

could you write something for bombshell! x spencer where maybe deeper into their relationship she is open with him about her period and he comes over to take care of her when her body is aching or she feels nauseous. im thinking some hair playing or some tummy rubbing.

i hope your weekend is lovely 🫶

thank you ❤️❤️❤️ fem, 1k

Can I come over? Are you home 

You summon your first smile of the day, reading Spencer’s text. 

Don’t know, you text back, can you handle me? 

Usually not, but that hasn’t stopped me so far. I’ll bring dinner? 

What kind of dinner my love  

Maybe Indian? What do you want? I want tandoori chicken 

Indian food is awesome if that’s what you want, I’m just messing with you 

You can hear his voice in his next text, I know that. So I can come?

You can always come over but I have to warn you, I’m irritable 

What’s wrong??? 

Spencer texts again before you can answer, I’ll come now and we can order delivery, I’ll be right there 

You decide to call him before he can make the wrong conclusions. He answers so quickly you laugh down the line. “Spencer, hi, there’s nothing that wrong.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“You don’t have to rush over.” 

“Well, what’s wrong? Did I do something?” 

“Why do you always think that, babe? No, you didn’t do anything. You’re actively making me feel better just talking to me.” 

Spencer pauses briefly. “Really?” 

“Really. I’m on my period, it’s kicking my ass,” you mumble, dropping your face into the soft top of your couch. “It would make me feel so much better if you were here. I want a hug.” 

“I’m coming. I haven’t brushed up on my hug skills for a while–”

“You hugged me yesterday before I went home?” 

“How would you rate that? On a scale of one to ten?” 

“Ten, definitely.” You sigh and stretch out your legs. “No, just, my stomach is hurting and I feel sort of sick from the cramps. I’m a bit… depressed, maybe, so you don’t have to come over if you don’t want to. I might not be good company.” 

“You’re always good company, you loon.” 

“You what?” 

“Sorry, I’m trying to be playful.” 

“I know that, you loon,” you say, grinning. “Okay, you better be putting your shoes on. My patience is running out.” 

“I’m by the door!” he says, giggles woven through each word. You can picture his smile, his unbuttoned coat. “You feel sick, should I still get dinner?” 

“Yes, please. Tandoori chicken for me too, and–”

“I know what you want.” 

“Okay, I’m gonna go shower before you get here and see me all disgusting–”

“Don’t you dare.” 

“Spencer!” you laugh. 

“I’ll run you a bath when I get there. Can you sit down until then?” 

“I can’t believe how you’re speaking to me. You used to blush when I said hi.” 

“Because you never just say hi. And it’s not like anyone else saying hi, it’s you.” 

Spencer lets that kindness sit with you and says goodbye, promising he’ll be there soon with dinner. You hold your sore stomach and wait, flicking through tv channels, craving something warm to eat and a warmer chest to lay your head. Spencer’s hugs are without doubt a ten out of ten experience, he’s weirdly good at them for someone who maybe hasn’t had as many as he deserves. His hands are active as the rest of him stills, rubbing over your shoulders or your chest with care, his hair soft and ticklish on your cheek or his lips right next to your ear. 

You’re dozing when he lets himself in. The rustle of a plastic bag awakens your dormant appetite, and you force yourself to meet him in the hallway. 

He drops the bag like it isn’t forty dollars worth of food and beams at you. “Hi,” he says, fawning at your sloppy pyjamas. “These are cute, they’re way too big for you.” 

You manage to hug him first, your arms around him and face screwed up in his chest. “Hi. My stomach hurts so bad, I missed you.” 

“How bad?” he says, dropping his volume. “Have you ever considered you might have endometriosis?” 

“Spencer, I love you, can you hug me for now and tell me about it later?” 

“Sorry,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “Where does it hurt, everywhere?” 

“It’s in my back.” 

Spencer drops his hand lower. “Oh, here?” He rubs your back, and he leans away enough to see you eye to eye. “Let’s have dinner, then at least you’ll have a full stomach.” 

“I don’t know if I can manage it, but I’m starving.” 

“You don’t have to eat everything.” He visibly looks you over, one feature at a time. His eyes get stuck on yours, your lashes, and his lovely mouth tips down. “Were you sleeping?” 

“Got bored waiting for you. I’m not tired,” you promise. 

“It’s okay.” He grasps your back and rubs at it with good pressure, the shard of a cramp held back by his touch. “You okay?” 

You lift your chin, turn your head just a touch to one side, asking and not asking. He smiles in that not so secret pleasure as he gives you a quick peck. It’s quick and chaste and everything you need, better when he encourages your face into his neck to give you a last good rub on the back. “Do you wanna sit down? I’ll make you a plate and we can eat on the couch.” He dots a kiss against the highest point of your cheek. “I got you motrin. And tylenol, too.” 

“I don’t need any painkillers, you’re gonna rub my back.”

Spencer smiles into your cheek. “Mm, I’ll relax your uterus. Rhythmic touches.” 

“That’s one way to say it, sweetheart.” 

“How would you say it?” he asks, cupping the back of your neck tenderly. 

You deflect, not wanting to make fun of him. “I love you.”

He pulls away, grinning, failing to talk. He's smiling so hard. When he goes in for a third round of hugs, you aren’t surprised. 

[writingwisterias]

Each Era of Leon and their first date with you

WARNINGS: Fluff, Fem!Reader

RE2,RE4R, Damnation, Infinite Darkness, Vendetta, RE6, Death Island

(not proof read was bored at my dads and did this quickly lmao)

RE2:

Leon sighed as he looked at himself in the mirror for the 100th time, his keys jingling as he pocketed them.

He swore his heart was going to explode with how fast it was beating, the idea of a first date still seemed stranger after everything he had been through.

His fist shook as he knocked on the door to your house, the stained glass window was decorated with flowers. The walkway lined with small flowers was the perfect family home, something he again assumed would be something to give away after he signed his life away to the government.

Your outfit was different from what you wore at the office, your frame decorated in a soft flowery dress, "Hey, you look nice" you spoke sweetly the door shutting behind you.

He couldn't stop the blush that lingered on his cheeks, the smile that grew impossibly wide as he linked his arm with yours. It felt nice; the weight of your arm in his...it felt right. "So do you" he stuttered out, cringing at the shakiness of his voice.

Once he finally settled in the restaurant, his nervous chatter reduced. You smiled as he talked enthusiastically about your interests, offering pointers and tips on how to help with the garden. Even offering his own help to you.

He somehow stumbled his way through the date for you to offer him a second one, departing the night with a simple kiss on his growing red cheeks.

RE4R:

After everything he's been through, he fought hard with himself to hold the slight shake in his hands.

Checking himself over briefly before going out, his outfit was casual but practical. A new warm jacket draped over his form since he lost his other one in Spain.

His knock is firmer, he's hand tucked in his pockets as he waits for you to leave your house. Not looking at the door, only looking at his feet.

It's only when he sees you his breath falters, your hair curled nicely falling across your shoulders, your dress showing off your form perfectly. "wow" is all he managed to get out, his smile growing at the dust of pink that showed up.

He's cracking jokes the entire evening, small puns here and there as he checks the menu for what he wants.

Pays for the whole thing, maybe would let you pay for the tip.

You already knew he was in for a second date..he didn't even need to ask

Infinite Darkness:

Most relaxed out of all of them, he was confident he looked good, opting for a shirt and jeans. His trusty leather jacket thrown over his shoulders.

He's looking at the door when he knocks, his body is still stiff but there's no obvious signs of being nervous

Smiling before you even made eye contact, hand on your waist as he leads you away.

Opting for a more low-key casual date in case he gets called away on a mission so he takes you to a coffee shop.

Paying for everything again, I'm sure he has so much money and no one to spoil.

But more touchy than the other ones, hands on your lower back as he guides you to a table, small touches of his fingers as he walks next to you.

If he's feeling bold enough he would kiss you, his hand weaving in your hair as he brings you closer.

Damnation:

Despite his grumpier tone during this film and his drinking habits in full force. He would try and do everything in his power to show up sober and not hungover.

This would mean he's slightly more nervous, not just because of the lack of sleep since he didn't drink the night before but also because it's first time he's been open with someone like this for a while.

Would be the easiest person to deal with at the start of the night, very closed off when he picks you up. However he does manage to compliment you though, his cheeks blushing when you return the favour

His humor is dry having lost the will to keep going it became more depressing but you didn't seem to mind. He instead started to view you as a light in the darkness.

So much so that he doesn't want the night to end. Dragging it out by going on a walk buying hot drinks and enjoying the simple conversations.

This is when his guard slips and you see past the tuff exterior he built to survive the harsh world.

His kiss at the end of the night is simple, but leave an impression on you along with a promise for more

Vendetta:

We all know he's the most depressed out of all the eras, so he wouldn't really care too much in his appearance. He's just shocked you even took enough interest.

I imagine it's more after the events of the movie where he's slightly on the brighter side.

He wouldn't talk about his job, using the date as an excuse to get away from it.

Very touchy, probably the only time he's realized how touched starved he actually is.

Drinking, he would probably try to avoid it during the night. He doesn't want to give you the wrong idea but towards the end he eventually gives in..not quiet content enough to go sober.

His kiss is sloppy but meaningful; a lot of his unspoken feelings about you given in the last moment with the kiss..leaves you begging for more.

You feel like you still don't really know him but know him enough to want to go for a second date

RE6:

Defiantly had a drink before he left, his outfit is scruffy and doesn't put too much thought into it. At least he put aftershave on though!

His knock on the door is firm and confident, smiling instantly when he sees you and almost escorts you to the car.

Opted for a nice restaurant making sure he booked a booth so he could have this moment without other people looking at him and you.

His conversations are mainly about your interests again, dealing out a couple of his own hobbies without giving away a lot of what he does...not fully trusting you to handle that information yet.

Keeps his drinking to the minimum, wanting to actually remember the events.

Drives you home but you stay in the car a bit longer, the conversation seemingly flowing a lot easier in this situation.

Kisses you passionately again, cradling your face as he does it.

DEATH ISLAND:

He's more nervous this time around, putting in more thought into his clothing..scolding himself for being so nervous.

Sober when he picks you up and during the entire date.

Is the most open with you off the bat about his interests but is still blunt with his job.

Picks you up on his bike but tells you before hand so you can dress appropriately.

Smiling the entire time he's driving you to the location, he loves how your hands tighten around him as he goes faster. The feeling of you pressed so closely to him

His heart melts when you exclaim how much fun it is!

Very big on touching, but always asking permission before he does.

Kisses you after you get off the bike, not driving away until he sees you have gotten in the house safe.

[juniperdugong]

Relationship Quirks 95s ver.

Aka habits I can see the boys doing in a relationship || 95s || 96s || 97s || Maknae line ||

Scoups Calls you his "wife" while you guys are still dating

NOT AROUND YOU... at first but I doubt that the guys wouldn't secretly take video of him whining during practice talking about, "I miss my wife..." all pouty and everything (he saw you this morning), and NOT send it to you.

He's awkward when you bring it up because he doesn't know if you feel that way about the future of your relationship but once he knows you do feel the same way WHEW you do not hear the end of it.

Suddenly, all the reservations he makes are preceded by "Well, me and my wife...", anytime you're brought up in a conversation dude glitches out and HAS to mention you as his wife at least once (especially if it's to someone he thinks might be interested in you), and the yearning only gets worse! He'll leave for tour and after he texts his customary airplane goodbye message to you your phone will be blowing up with texts from the boys complaining about having to hear their leader practically sobbing about how much he misses his wife.

Jeonghan Steals your stuff

Has big "What's yours is mine" mentality, but don't worry! What's his is yours too! He swears it! Despite the drastic difference in how much he's using, borrowing, or straight up taking your stuff...

Let's be clear though, he never takes things he thinks you'll miss and if he finishes something of yours he always makes sure to replace it pronto. If you do get upset he makes a mental note to not mess with that particular item ever again.

Have you noticed a suspicious amount of your clothing (mainly hoodies, hats, and bags) go missing and suddenly see your boyfriend wearing them during a live? Yes. Has there been multiple arguments about this behavior? For sure! Does it absolutely warm your heart when you're at a concert and see a staff member run on stage to hand Hannie his current comfort item (a childhood toy of yours that you didn't even know was missing from your room)? Absolutely, it does. (Apologizes profusely once you find out...doesn't mean a single word of it and you know it because he's giggling the whole time)

Joshua Buys 2 of everything

Since the dawn of your relationship, Shua has gotten 2 of every item he buys. His initial reason was to get to know one another better by trying out things the other liked. This then spiraled to him doubling every single grocery item, clothes he buys, and pretty much anything he orders. Could be an insanely valuable item worth thousands that he's getting paid to promote but if there isn't a matching one for you then it's off the table. And no, he doesn't necessarily want to be "matching" all the time but he likes knowing that you guys could match whenever you wanted to.

He also gets extremely offended if you question why there's so much of everything, seriously he doesn't even want to hear it, like "Because it's ours! And we share! So we need double! Do you hate me or something!?"

"Babe, why do we have so much shampoo..." "I'm promoting it." "There's 2 of every type in here." "Yep." "We don't ne-" "We do need it." "It's too much." "I don't understand what you're saying to me right now."

A/N: The brainrot I have for these men is so real rnnnnn. I just had to separate these by years bc it was getting too long :( I'll have 96s up by today too, so stay tuned for that 96 line OUT NOW!! (Have to do it for my babe Nonu) Reblogs and Comments are much-appreciated lovelies!!

TAGLIST (open): @bemybabiibish

[gottalovesatoru]

𝟗:𝟐𝟑 𝐚.𝐦

“Baby?” Someone lightly shakes your shoulder, but you only groan in response, clutching at the covers and pulling them further up your body. 

“Wake up, sleepy head,” the voice says, a bit louder this time, laced with amusement. When they rub at your shoulder, hard enough to rouse you but still gentle, you lazily open an eye, revealing Satoru, sitting on the side of the bed. 

The blinds are pulled open behind him, early morning sunlight pouring in, highlighting the edges of his hair. He’s not wearing any eye-coverings, so you get to see him in all his glory, azure eyes set on you. His skin crinkles in the corners as he gives you a soft smile. “How’s my angel?” He asks, leaning down to place a lingering kiss on your forehead, brushing your hair back with a warm hand.

You pout, grumpy that he’s woken you up, but pleased that he’s the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes. “Mornin’,” you say.

“Good morning. ‘Missed you.” Satoru’s hand settles on the side of your face, thumb stroking your skin as he talks. “You’ve been sleeping for too long, there’s only so much you can dream about when all you need is right in front of you, you know.”

Laughing, you sit up, sheets pooling at your waist, and you reach over to envelop him in a cozy hug as a greeting. You feel him sniff your hair, nose at your neck, rub his large palms up and down your back. Slowly, he maneuvers you back down and settles on top of you, making sure to keep half of his weight on the mattress so you’re not crushed. He ends up with his head resting on your chest, his arms wrapped around you, tangled with you and the sheets. His palms are warm, crawling underneath your shirt to feel your bare skin. 

You place your own arms around his shoulders, one of your hands carding through his pillowy hair. You close your eyes as he invades your senses, content to just lay like this. To bask in this morning with him, knowing that you’re here together. That you’ve been granted this luxury, at least for today. 

“Is someone feeling clingy?” You tease. 

He whines, burying further into you. “So mean to me, baby. What did I ever do to deserve this?”

Giggling, you place a kiss on the crown of his head, and you can hear him sigh against you, satisfied with your affection. 

“Love you, ‘Toru,” you say. You mean it more than anything. 

He momentarily brings his face up for a kiss, grinning at you in that lovesick way that does terrible things to your heart. “I love you too,” he responds, then giving you another. 

The two of you lay there, content to love each other, and enjoy this moment. 

[kedsandtubesocks]

game changer

MLB pitcher!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: back from your first semester of grad school your parents lovingly drag you out to celebrate with an old family friend - but what unfolds there (and after) cracks you wide open

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, no outbreak/modern AU & Joel has both his daughters, dad’s friend!Joel, unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but is a drinking aged adult & Joel is in his early 50’s), light use of gendered language, yearning & flirting, some light angst, brief alcohol consumption, masturbation (f), smutty thoughts, heavy makeout, spicy themes, allusions to smut (p in v), Joel’s dirty talk, one use of “good girl,” one light ass smack, reserved but soft!Joel, start of secret relationship, lots of baseball talk

word count: 9.1k (I’m sorry)

a/n: i know, i know another non-typical AU for Joel but I blame my sports girlie heart & baseball season so here we are lol big thank you to @swiftispunk for always putting up with my sports ramblings LMAO im so sorry Han ily, special thanks to @burntheedges @undercoverpena @tightjeansjavi @msjarvis because this truly wouldn’t be here without y’all - you don’t know how much you babes mean to me & I can’t thank y’all enough…now to you, if you’re reading this too I also can’t thank you enough ♡

You barely have any solid memories of Joel Miller, even if he was your dad’s oldest friend. And if you were being honest, you remember his brother Tommy more who smiled so warmly and seemed to radiate warmth.

Now you stand before Joel Miller’s face on the side of the Globe Life field along with the rest of the Texas Rangers professional baseball team.

It’s a cool evening in Arlington. Everyone seems to bask in the weather that feels perfect for a night of baseball.

Home from your first grad school semester, you didn’t think you’d be going to a game. But your parents explained how good the tickets were, and that even if you didn’t care about the game, you could just enjoy the stadium. So with the promise of free food and a nice night out, you were sold.

Now you’re here.

“Yesterday Joel said to head to the side entrance, that’s where we can check in.” Your dad eagerly explains and stunned you simply follow along like a confused duckling.

The sea of jerseys sweeps you into a sports wave until you’re deposited in a new space. Your jaw almost drops.

The VIP suites sit at the very side edge of the field, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever seen.

The seats are incredible. Everything feels deluxe but comfortable. Someone calls out to your mom, and soon enough the rest of the Miller family approaches.

Tommy’s married now and his wife Maria is lovely, so is their baby. Joel’s daughters, Sarah and Ellie, are older. Time sucker punches you in the gut seeing how much time has passed, but you warmly greet everyone. You realize how long it really has been since you saw any of them.

You greet everyone warmly and appreciate all their surprised welcome seeing you back.

“Joel’s glad y’all were finally able to make it. Been talking about it since yesterday.” Tommy explains.

“Yeah us too! Just worked out that we all could come out and enjoy this with someone back home now.” You mom teases, but it’s warm.

Even though you were cities away, the new workload just kept you so busy.

You’re grateful to be here too. Even though your mind still swirls trying to grasp all of this.

You knew your dad’s friend made it big as a professional baseball player. Joel and his family left Austin to move to Arlington after he signed for the Rangers. So you rarely saw them. But with your mom’s job recently relocating here, your dad talked non stop about maybe seeing more of the games. It never really clicked that your family knew a professional sports athlete. Plus you never cared too much for sports to even look more into it.

Now as the game starts with a wild explosive and electric opening, you feel like you’ve slipped into another reality.

Then Joel’s entrance arrives, and your heart jumps out of your chest. The stadium erupts in a wild frenzy. The music for his arrival is western themed, grand and epic.

“All of this is because the league calls him Cowboy Miller.” Your dad explains.

The nickname was given to him not just because of his very southern twang, but Joel’s cold demeanor on the mound along with his wild style of pitching. All this led to him being deemed a Cowboy.

You understand why.

A serious air of power radiates from Joel while he approaches the mound.

Wearing a jersey with the number two on it, he’s older, more distinguished than the last time you remember him. Grays pepper his beard and the shadow of his baseball cap highlights the wrinkles flowing across his face.

He’s handsome, utterly gorgeous. His shoulders look broad, pure striking mountains, in his white jersey.

It’s like your mind finally registers and settles into the reality he’s a man, a full grown and incredible man.

And he really is incredible.

Even though he’s older for a pitcher, he still possesses dazzling talent. You even clap loudly when he strikes one of the batters out.

Your eyes never leave him. Joel sternly staring down the batter is terrifying. His legs look strong as he whips the ball fast to the home plate. Your eyes can’t help but flicker to his ass when he walks back to the dugout.

He’s gorgeous.

But cold reality crashes into you when your dad brightly yells. Joel is your dad’s friend, and that thought sours the bubbling feelings in your chest.

So you try focusing on the game, which actually turns out to be rather fun. The vibe of the stadium, along with the atmosphere of the game itself, is easy to melt into.

At one point someone gets a hit off Joel and he has to run to cover first. He’s surprisingly fast. Seeing him catch the ball, get the out, is so impressive and hot as fuck.

After that the Rangers switch pitchers.

As he leaves the mound, the stadium cheers at Joel’s exit. Very politely he nods, raising his hand in a quick goodbye to everyone. Then he scans the crowd.

It’s admirable seeing how he instantly finds where his family is. Joel’s roughed face melts soft with a small crooked grin hearing the applause they give him. He even spots your dad proudly cheering.

Joel’s eyes then lock with yours. Still walking towards the dugout, his face stays on you while his focus narrows in a cloudy confusion like he’s trying to recognize you.

Then his eyes go wide as realization sinks in.

You weakly grin back. It’s all you can do before Joel is fully gone from your line sight. Your heart thumps erratically within its cage.

The Rangers unfortunately lose by three. Once the game ends, you decide to swing by the merch store.

“Guess the game made you a fan huh?” You mom perks up noticing you eyeing the jerseys.

You shrug easily with an eased grin.

After this the Rangers have a five game stretch at home.

You only know because after the game you check for all things about the team, about Joel. You haven’t brought yourself to look at any videos of Joel yet. But you did discover from the team's instagram that he has one too.

Early the next morning, still lounging in bed, you scroll through Joel’s instagram page. It seems very professional, like it’s run by a social media manager primarily using it to promote Joel without being too personal.

You’re not paying attention, still a bit too focused on your phone, when a knock comes at the door.

Your face scrunches up confused. Then terror sucker punches you when you see who’s at the door.

No way.

Opening the door Joel stares at you, but this time wearing striking thick black rimmed glasses. They make him incredibly distinguished. Instead of seeming like a professional baseball player you’re reminded of a studious professor. And without a baseball cap on, you’re given sight of his soft glorious curls and the light gray streaks dancing among them.

He’s knockout beautiful.

Of course, you’re still in your mismatched lounge clothes and barely look like you’ve left bed.

He says your name, greeting you with a curt nod. You swiftly greet him with an awkward hello.

“Are you going for like a Clark Kent thing?” You blurt before you can stop yourself.

Joel’s face scrunches up as he sighs.

“Gotta take a break from my contacts s’all.” He admits with a grumpy reply.

But it’s his thick twang, the familiar southern accent - that sweeps you breathless.

“How do they even let you pitch?” You lightly tease, and

Joel rolls his eyes.

“Good to see ya too.” He rumbles, finally greeting you.

Now realizing he’s still standing in your doorway, you let him in.

Joel explains how he wanted to come by, visit your folks, catch up, and thank them for getting to stop by.

You’re the one early thanking him.

“The tickets were incredible. And you did amazing the other night.” You add sincerely.

“Oh, yeah thanks. Glad we won.” Joel nods.

“So they let you just roam around?” You ask slightly stunned still seeing him here in your family kitchen.

Joel scoffs. “Ain’t gotta be at the stadium till later.”

“So, was uh…surprised to see ya at the game.” His tone now reeks of trying to just make small talk.

Weakly you grin back explaining it was a nice change from your days on campus.

“So…back from school, huh.” That awkward thick small talk tone of his gets worse especially as he asks how’s it going and what you’re doing.

For being a talented professional pitcher, right now he simply seems like just some guy…

Just your dad’s pal.

The thought brings a strange acidic taste in your mouth.

You explain school is going good and how you’re here just visiting until the next semester starts up again.

Politely he asks what you’re going to school for. You tell him about your program, explaining all the classes you’re taking and even about the undergrad classes you help TA for.

Joel nods, quiet. You wonder if this sounds boring to a man who professionally plays baseball everyday.

“You’re damn smart.” He then whistles low, and his compliment jumpstarts your heart.

“Haven’t read a book since… shit can’t even remember when.” Joel muses.

“What? They don’t have you take baseball quizzes for pitching?” You joke, but it falls flat. Joel just gives you a dull look.

However his lips twitch faintly, like he’s fighting a grin, and it makes you grin.

“Though, I’ve heard you could maybe work on your slider pitch.” You add.

From the clips you’ve seen and the comments you’ve read, that's the one thing others have commented on, along with how unbearably handsome he is. ESPN even named him one of sports top most eligible bachelors.

“Oh?” Joel’s eyebrows rise up fast. Crossing his hands over his chest, Joel turns towards you more.

“Suddenly you’re a sports analyst now, huh?” The way his voice perks up confidently, matching your edge of playfulness, causes something to get stuck in your throat.

“Y’gonna start telling me how to pitch too? Just like your old man used to.” Joel adds still with that same tone and even chuckles.

But his words slice through you. Swallowing hard, you steel yourself tight.

Thankfully the sound of the front door unlocking arrives. Your parents are home.

“You’re fantastic, Joel. Glad I got to see it live.” You tell him earnestly looking him straight in the eye, as if to stare him down and remind him unwavering you’re a grown adult. Even if you’re in lounge shorts and holey t-shirt, you try holding your head high with as much grace as you can.

With that you head to tell your parents Joel is here then quietly slip back to your room.

Eventually your mom knocks on your door and pops her head in.

“There’s another game tonight. Wanna go?” She offers.

You decline, explaining you want to rest and catch up with a few shows you’ve been neglecting. Thankfully neither of your parents pressure you to join them.

With the house to yourself, you now search for as many videos of Joel you can.

Even slowly starting to understand baseball at a base level, you realize Joel ‘Cowboy’ Miller really is spectacular. You hear about his time playing for The University of Texas and how adored he is by his alma mater.

Then heat crawls up your chest when you see clips of him drenched in sweat, heavily breathing, or even licking his lingers to help with the ball grip.

You quickly turn the videos off before you get yourself worked up.

This has to be just a simple infatuated infestation. You simply need to try to shake it off.

The last home game the Rangers play the Minnesota Twins and Joel isn’t pitching. You again decide to sit this game out. You just have to detox yourself of Joel Miller.

Until you’re invited to a dinner cookout at his home. You thought about maybe playing sick, but with how hungry you are, you see this just as an opportunity to get a nice meal.

Your dad casually mentions Joel’s house has a pool, a nice bonus. He just forgot to mention how huge the Miller house would be.

Though gorgeously grand, it’s still surprisingly cozy. In the backyard you spot Joel at the grill and it makes your head spin. The weathered old burnt orange Texas longhorn shirt he wears looks cozy and casual, sits on him beautifully highlighting his shoulders.

You slip into the pool hoping it will cool you off. But your eyes always find Joel who now laughs with your dad.

Joel’s eyes suddenly flicker to yours, catching you staring red handed. Immediately you sink back into the water.

There’s more people here than expected and you feel a bit out of place. After drying off, you decide to head inside for a drink.

The soft Texas evening illuminates the home in a gentle glow. The music from outside floats in a soft hum making the room feel like it’s underwater.

Ellie told you the house was free for you to roam and from the quick tour she gave, you caught a glimpse of something you want to see more.

So letting yourself maybe take another peek, you walk back to the small alcove carved in the wall. It’s honestly a rather quiet achievement exhibition compared to other grand trophy rooms you’ve imagined.

There are honestly more pictures of Sarah and Ellie, along with Tommy and the rest of the Miller clan, decorating the main hallway of the house. All of it suits Joel.

His UT longhorn jersey is framed on the wall. There are a few awards clustered together, a couple of magazine covers where he looks so dashing in his uniform.

But what makes your heart float are the framed drawings of Joel with a baseball on the mound that range from adorable scribbles to a rather good pencil sketch. These had to be Ellie and Sarah’s work.

“If you’re thinkin’ about stealin’ somethin’ maybe go for the jersey. I can always get another one.”

Joel’s drawl trickles out, and you almost jump out of your skin. Turning to the side he walks to where you are. You hate how exposed you feel just being caught in his gaze and also obviously browsing in his home.

“Nah, I was hoping for a World Series ring to steal and sell but.” You shrug playful, knowing now he’s gone to the Series but never won.

Joel makes a low hissing sound like he’s injured.

“Damn, y’hit low.” He chuckles low.

You grin triumphantly.

“Don’t worry. You’ll get a ring someday.” You say simply.

“Sound sure about that.” He replies.

“Cause it’s true.” You nod. “You’re pretty great.”

Even with your limited knowledge of baseball, it’s easy to see how great he is. Joel is incredibly talented, a shining star stitched in accomplishment. Yet you can tell hasn’t let it go to his head. He’s anchored by his loved ones, and it’s admirable. You even tell him that.

“I…thanks.” He stumbles for a moment, deep dark eyes a bit cloudy as he searches your face with his voice thick and rumbled.

“What game has been your favorite?” You suddenly ask, wanting to know more about him.

His eyebrows furrow and his deep eyes glaze over a bit distant, creating a face of thought that looks adorable.

Then he nods with a soft grin remembering.

“One of the first games the girls gotta go to.” He paints a picture of seeing his daughters, sitting with their uncle Tommy, wearing too large adorable Texas Rangers jerseys.

“One of the best games I ever played.” He adds gently.

He really is a rare beauty of a man with a gilded heart of gold.

“And you? Your folks talk about ya nonstop. Tell me about grad school. And none of that simple ‘it’s good’ crap.” The quick playful mimic he does of your voice makes you laugh warm and bright.

So you tell him about your favorite moments from lecture and the fondness you have for simply embracing subjects you love so much.

Joel stares fully focused on you. You swear his eyes twinkle like stars might be sowed right in his deep earth depths.

He opens his mouth, eager to continue the conversation. Until the kitchen comes alive with more people entering inside. The bubble breaks, but electricity still brews under your skin.

The next day the Rangers have a game at Globe Life Field you go.

Even if Joel isn’t pitching, you want to experience this world he loves so much. You’re however surprised to find Joel is starting.

Your dad explains how one of the pitchers planned for today had to rest. So Joel will simply be the opener before the rest of the bullpen steps in.

Your heart doesn’t rage wildly as it did like seeing him the first time. Now you feel almost drawn to Joel. You focus on his stance on the mound, so disciplined and almost hauntingly serious.

The Arizona Diamondbacks batter hits the ball solid. It flies straight at Joel, and fear sinks its fangs into you.

Until with fast reflexes Cowboy Miller catches the ball eased. You and the stadium erupt wild.

The Rangers win one to four. On the high of the game, you head to the jerseys again in the shop.

“You should get one!” Your mom urges.

Your fingers itch, almost begging you to grab the jersey that says Miller on it. But something continues to hold you back.

On the drive back home, you now see all the great reaction clips and memes of the game. There's a particular one of Joel catching the ball that includes a great western music overlay, like he’s a hero in an old cowboy movie.

Feeling brave, you send the reel to his Instagram profile. You even add underneath the message “now you just gotta work on that slider pitch.”

You send it. Think, hell at worst the poor social media manager will see it and not even give it the time or day. He must get so many messages anyway.

When you get home, you see the message has been read.

But also, a new profile has followed you.

JM_8712

The profile also sent you a message.

JM_8712: ain’t nothing wrong with my slider

No way.

This can’t be who you think it is. You message back saying this possibly can’t be the real Joel Miller because he doesn’t seem like the type to even know how to send a gif.

JM_8712: think ur so funny huh

The account sends a simple gif of someone rolling their eyes.

Then another message flies in.

JM_8712: ur dad get those damn nachos he kept bitchin about with Tommy?

It feels like one of Joel’s changeup pitches knocks you out.

Because it’s really him messaging you. When you even go to double check the blank profile just to make sure, it barely follows more than twenty people and you spot Ellie and Sarah’s accounts among those profiles.

Warmth unfolds from your chest, dangerous and electric. This is Joel’s personal private account.

Unknowingly this all kicks off something you never thought would have ever started. You and Joel start talking.

The messages flow between you and him, back and forth, at first just talking about the games. Then, when the Rangers leave to travel, the messaging increases.

Joel sends you pictures of the places he travels, the food he eats, the vacant stadiums he gets to enjoy.

You devour it all with a greedy eagerness. However it dawns on you that you’re sliding down a slope too slippery to stop.

For the rest of the summer you earnestly check your messages on the app.

One evening, on a stormy delayed game against the Dodgers, your messages don’t send through. The weather is getting worse in Los Angeles.

“They’re gonna reschedule the game. Storm’s not letting up.” Your dad comments glumly.

You just hope Joel is alright.

Instagram finally alerts you of a message and your heart jumps.

Joel.

JM_8712: sorry connections shit

Then he simply sends you his phone number.

You wonder if you’re seeing things.

Trying to keep calm you text the number a simple message asking if he’s alright.

When your text alert chimes, it rattles your brain.

Yeah im good thanks

Then another message follows. It’s a photo from the locker, bags packed like he’s ready to leave.

Looks like room service for tonight

It’s Joel. You’re texting Joel right now.

It feels like a step deeper into a current you never want to leave.

Texting seems to shift the energy between you and him, a transmutation you never could have imagined.

You text Joel good morning and he tells you good night. You and him bond over a love of music. He’s got incredible taste while also complimenting yours. You stay up late on game days when pitched and now feel your throat dry up knowing you’re getting to know the man on the mound.

The desire brewing more for Joel mixes with the summer heat and melts the days away. Soon enough summer dwindles away, and your new semester approaches.

The drive back to your apartment is a good couple of hours. Funny enough Joel is also traveling today for a game. Stopping for gas midway, your phone goes off.

You think at first it must be one of your parents.

But instead it’s Joel.

You scramble to answer.

“Hey,” his voice sounds incredibly richer and deep on the phone.

“Y’doin’ alright?” Joel asks hesitant.

That catches you off guard.

“Oh yeah, just finished putting in gas actually. Why, what’s up?” You relax more into the conversation now curious to why he called asking that.

Joel sighs.

“Sorry I just…your last text uh, it just got me worried.”

Now you’re really curious about what you texted him. It had been half an incomplete response you sent. Even from your side it seemed abrupted and strange.

Sighing, you apologize that you didn’t even realize you had done that. In the rush of wanting to get out on the road you must have just sent the text.

But it suddenly hits you. Joel called because he was worried. That thought rips into you with a ferocious rawness.

“Okay yeah,” Joel says a bit clumsily. “I’ll…let you go.”

“No, it’s okay.” You quickly reassure him. “How’s the traveling going?”

“Good, just finished rewatching one of the inflight movies.”

“Please tell me it was Field of Dreams.” You tease him with the iconic baseball film as you head back on the road. Just now with Joel on the phone.

On speaker, Joel scoffs echoing in your car all around you. You realize this might be a bad decision trying to stay focused driving while also talking to him.

“Funny.” His thick drawl is dry but so softly teasing just below the surface.

“Was some new movie Sarah told me to watch but…fell asleep.” Joel admits low.

Thinking of him asleep on the plane clutches at something warm and deep in you.

Yes you can admit how badly you want Joel, how you picture what his calloused fingers would feel like on you, in you. But you also are finding yourself aching for more now…

Like falling asleep beside him while watching a movie, or sharing a meal with him and teasing him over his dry sense of humor.

It’s dangerous falling deeper like this.

Especially now in a blink you realize you’ve been talking to Joel this entire drive to your apartment.

“Shit sorry.” He realizes it when he sees the time. “Y’should’ve told me to fuck off. Don’t gotta waste your time talkin’ to some old ass like me.”

He rarely comments on his age, and his words sink hard into your gut.

“Trust me… I’m glad I get to talk to you.” You truthfully tell him.

“You’re the one who probably has better things to do than talk to me.” You add slightly dejected. The words even sting your lips.

“Like watching Field of Dreams.” You quickly add some light humor trying to dispel your heartache leaking in.

Joel snorts.

“Definitely would rather chat with you than watch that.” Joel mutters, but his world electrifies your skin.

“I’m flattered knowing I can beat Kevin Costner.” You joke. When he snorts amused, warmth fills you to the brim.

Someone in the distance calls out to Joel, and you know your time with him is limited. It’s confirmed when he sighs.

“Gonna be landing soon. Ya make it to your place okay?” He asks.

“I did, thank you. And thanks for keeping me company on the drive.” You smile to yourself.

“Don’t mention it. Uh, glad you made it back safe.” Joel replies and his words make you melt.

You say his name quick.

“Can you just… Text me when you make it to the hotel?” Just to know he’s safe. It’s simple, but it feels as if the words weigh a ton.

A moment passes.

“Yeah, will do.” Joel agrees.

He doesn’t text you. Instead Joel calls you when he gets to the hotel.

“Saw a full on fuckin’ fight at the airport when we landed.” Joel rambles immediately, and you learn how much of a secret gossip he is. While Joel breaks down all the details of what he saw, you realize he wanted to tell you about this.

A light burst in your chest because you want to tell Joel everything too.

And when your next semester starts, you tell him all you can.

The texting stays but evolves into more frequent phone calls. Joel listens to you with a gruff saint’s patience. He faintly picks up the names of your professors, even the name of your roommate. At one point he even stays on the phone with you when you cook dinner.

Joel calls during the stretch of waiting at the airports, a few times after games. Sometimes he rants about his teammates, sighs about his frustrations when they lose or when he ends up not doing well on the mound.

While every inch in your body still hums for Joel, it’s steady now - like you’re slowly accepting these emotions fully into your bloodstream and part of your existence.

You adore Joel, maybe more than you want to admit.

During a rare night out with your friends from class, feeling nice in your favorite outfit, courage courses through you. After posting a few photos from your night out, you also post a rather nice selfie.

You pray Joel sees it. Then you get a bit tipsy, and it takes all your willpower not to text Joel.

But the alcohol burns in you. Once you’re back at your apartment, in the safety of your room, you pull up your favorite video.

It’s a spring training video the Rangers made of the team preparing for the upcoming season. The video ranged from showing the guys on the field practicing, to them in the weight room.

There’s a nice small segment just on Cowboy Joel Miller. Specifically he’s training with a few weights and when you first saw it, your throat got so dry.

Joel is drenched in sweat. The simple worn navy blue shirt sticks to his body, highlighting the tone of his arms and width of his shoulders. Curls wet with sweat stick to his forehead. His concentrated face is sinful.

But not as hot as the sounds he makes.

The grunts, the soft growls, the exhales he gives lifting the weights… they drench your thoughts with images of him fucking.

You’ve never done this before, never gotten off on his videos. You never wanted to fall this far.

But it’s so hard when your body feels molten, so wet hearing with his groans directly in your ears. Your fingers trail down to relieve the throbbing wet ache between your legs.

Imagining Joel’s sweaty gorgeous body pressed against yours, picturing his thicker fingers in you, getting to taste him on your tongue - you come incredibly fast.

The next morning a text and a somber guilt wait for you.

Joel of course had messaged you.

Looks like you had fun last night

So he did see your pictures. A blistering heat crawls in your throat.

But reality sinks in fast. You got off to Joel. You don’t want to feel guilty. You reason there’s probably others who have maybe done it. But it does quietly eat at you.

So much that you don’t even reply to Joel for the whole day trying to sort your mind out. He’s the one that eventually calls you.

“Y’go out on a date or somethin’?” Joel asks about the night out, and your mind sputters to a halt.

“Oh uh, no. Just went out with some friends in class.”

“Oh.” He replies quick. “Well, looked like fun.”

You agree and thank him.

“But yeah, no dates for me.” You weakly laugh.

“Yeah? Any reason why?” Joel presses.

Because you’re partially head over heels for him, but you can’t admit that yet.

“No one’s asked me recently that’s all.” You reply simply. You’ve done the dating apps, had the headache mess of ghosting and awkward dates.

Joel snorts. “Pretty thing like you? Hard to imagine.”

His words, like a change up ball that drops wildly in the air, disorient you.

“Trust me, it’s real.” You dryly reply.

“And you? You must be seeing some famous celebrity in secret huh?” You teasingly ask.

You’ve seen the ESPN clips of the beautiful reporters flirting with him, cooing at how handsome he is. He probably could snag a supermodel or other famous person.

Joel barks a hollow laugh of a thing.

“No, none of that.” He answers.

“Ain’t not time for that or…mainly…haven’t found anyone who’s got the patience for me.”

Your heart sinks.

“Wait, what do you mean?” You quietly press.

He sighs.

“M’ older, a single dad. My schedule ain’t perfect. And those that have tried to uh… pursue something haven’t always had the best intentions.”

His voice trails off somber. You wonder how many just wanted him for his money or fame.

A grim cloud seems to settle above you.

“You’re a great guy Joel, an incredible one.” You earnestly tell him. “Those who can’t see it don’t deserve you.”

“And I have to say it but…you’re a real catch.” You go for the obvious baseball pun.

Joel’s chuckle is a beautiful low gruff treasure.

“That was bad.” You can almost picture him shaking his head. “But thanks…same uh, same goes for you. You’re smart, gorgeous. Someone will come around to see you’re worth it.”

You’re drowning in his words. They feel too much.

He ends up having to quickly end the call with his manager calling, and you’re thankful for it. Because this blooming rawness in you feels like it’s getting too much, yet not enough.

Joel’s compliments are sincere. But many feelings tangle you up. It hurts, like you’re stuck in a rose bush trying to get comfortable within the thorns.

Then, the universe decides to pull you away from Joel.

Classes kick up and the workload piles on. You’re exhausted. It even gets harder to reply to Joel as swiftly as you did. You even miss a few of his phone calls and don’t even call him back.

The days blur together.

Then, one morning you find a text waiting for you.

hope you’re alright

You want to cradle that message.

When you call Joel, it’s like not a day has passed between you and him. Your heart soars hearing his voice again.

“So uh…” Joel begins cautiously, and you’ve never heard him this nervous almost. “We’ll be heading your way into town soon.”

That’s right.

Caught up in the semester you completely forgot the team would be playing the Astros soon. Excitement immediately rises in you.

“Hope ya can come out and see us. And if ya do, let me know.” Joel suggests and you swear his voice sounds shy.

The minute the conversation ends, you try checking for tickets. But they’re a pretty penny. You jokingly circle the top section, the highest nosebleeds, and text him saying he needs to try and find you from here.

He texts back immediately.

Don’t worry about the tickets. Just head to will call and let them know you’re with me. Got it covered

That might be one of the hottest things you’ve ever read.

Game day can’t approach any faster. Your parents even mention the upcoming game when you call to check up.

“You should try to go!” Your dad urges, eager.

A part of you has wondered if Joel mentioned you to your dad. You’ve kept quiet, not saying a thing about whatever this is with Joel, and you now think so did Joel.

You take a small comfort in that.

When game day does arrive, you head to Minute Maid Park alone. Your closest friend and classmate couldn’t make it, and neither could your roommate. But for some reason, you’re slightly okay with being here by yourself.

At the ticket window, you nervously say that you’re here for Joel. Like if nothing they verify your name, and with an ease slide tickets your way.

Not just any tickets, but seats right by the Rangers dugout.

Still stunned, but now slightly lost, you can’t help but feel stranded in the stadium.

“You okay, sweetie?” A lovely voice comes and when you turn, you find a sweet older motherly woman. She wears a Texas Rangers jersey and another younger woman stands besides her in the same jersey. They both stare at you concerned.

“You lost?” The younger woman asks sympathetically.

It must be that obvious. The motherly older woman politely asks to check your tickets to point you in the right direction. She perks up.

“Aw look at that! You’re sitting close to us! Come on, we’ll show ya around!” She beams warmly.

“Wait, are you sure?” You ask worried.

“Oh of course,” the younger woman reassures you with a smile. “The stadium is so huge and besides, us Rangers fans gotta stick together.”

She then winks, noticing the Rangers shirt you bought and wore for the game.

You find out Malinda, the older woman, is the mother of the first baseman. And the other lady, Casey, is his wife.

Kindly, this sweet family adopts you, guiding you towards the section literally right besides the dugout on the other side of the net.

You’re stunned in shock yet again.

Even though your tickets are a few rows away from the two sweet ladies, they reassure you you’ll be fine sitting with them.

It’s beautiful and comforting.

“So, who are you here for?” Casey asks with a friendly gossip like whisper. “These seats are for friends and family, and I haven’t seen you around before.”

But then she quickly reassures you don’t have to explain if you don't want to.

You with a weak laugh you’re here to see Joel, adding that he’s a family friend. Her eyes go wide.

“Oh wow! And he warmed up today too so he might pitch!” She says excitedly.

Joel had texted you before the line up was confirmed that he would be warming up.

Don’t know if I’m gonna get put in but just in case

Even if he didn’t, you told him you just wanted to be there to support him.

With the Rangers being the visiting team, they bat first. You want to root for the guys to get a hit and get on base, but you also already selfishly want to see Joel.

Three outs come and the Rangers switch to take the field. No sign of Joel.

In fact he doesn’t show up until the fifth inning, and it happens so casually. Joel simply walks out from the dugout and takes your breath away.

The team wears their cobalt blue jerseys and the color flatters Joel marvelously.

It feels like seeing him for the first time all over again but through a deeper lens you can’t explain.

You clap and cheer with pride when he manages to strike out the first batter. Then the second.

Two strikeouts back to back.

Joel told you back in his younger days he struck out seven hitters in a row. Now for him to get two, much less strike out the third batter, is something to applaud and admire. And the Rangers fans here, including yourself, cheer loud when the team heads back for the next inning.

“Cowboy Miller in his golden age.” Someone off to the side whistles appreciatively.

You don’t fight the syrupy fondness swallowing you whole.

“It’s rare that a more…seasoned pitcher like Joel still is relied on,” your new friend Casey explains. “But it’s hard to see why not. Everyone’s been saying like he’s almost found a new groove and still has so much power.”

He’s a force you’re terribly in awe of.

Seeing the whip of how strong his body still pitches the ball with a dizzying speed, how handsome he looks under the baseball cap, you want to savor this as much as you can.

Joel manages to get two more strikes out in the second inning. Then by the seventh they get a hit off him but thankfully, no runs come in. Cowboy Miller ends the inning striking out the final batter. You, and the other Rangers fans present, erupt wild.

He did amazing.

Laser focused, locked in on the game, he doesn’t search the crowd or even glance up and you understand. The game gets intense when the Astros manage to hit a home run in the eight. In the end the Rangers win because of an error.

But it’s still a sweet victory.

You relish and warmly celebrate it with your co cheerleaders for the game that made you feel so welcomed with them. You’re about to head up and leave, start looking for an Uber ride home, when Malinda calls to you.

“Sweetie? Aren’t ya gonna wait with us and greet the guys!?” She asks with warm curious sweetness.

You can’t say no.

The commotion sweeps you into a neon coated excitement. There’s a special area sectioned off, almost in a backstage-like section that connects to the entry way for the visiting teams. You’re surprised at how many others wait here.

The team slowly trickles out of the locker room and into the hallway. You’re hilariously reminded of a class being let out.

Then the world then melts away when Joel walks out. Focused on his phone you almost want to call out to him, but your voice gets caught in your throat.

Putting his phone away Joel finally glances up and spots you.

Even with his baseball cap on, you see his eyes widen for a fraction. Your body reacts on its own moving towards him. But he also walks fiercely towards you.

The world blurs away for a moment and then without even thinking, you’re embracing him.

It happens so naturally you don’t even realize what you did until you blink and it’s like you’ve been thrown into cold water.

Panicking, you’re about to pull away until Joel’s arms slowly wrap around you.

“Good to see ya too.” He says low gruff but you’re taken out by the knees grateful your body doesn’t give out.

He smells of sweat, of the dirt on the field, and something sharply Joel, and it’s wonderful.

Quickly you draw yourself away to proudly tell him how amazing he did. Joel waves you off with a gruff noise as his eyes refuse to meet you, almost bashful.

It’s been so long since you’ve seen him this close, been in the same space as him. And it feels so different.

“Alright, dinner?” Someone says, and when you turn, you’re stunned to see it’s the team manager.

Guess this means you’ll be saying goodbye.

“Headin’ home?” Joel asks when he notices you staying back once everyone funnels outside.

“Uh yeah, gotta grab an Uber first. Didn’t wanna drive down here and deal with Houston traffic along with awful parking during a game.” You joke, and Joel snorts.

“Let me take ya back then.” He offers, and you almost drop your phone.

You scramble out reassuring Joel it’s fine.

“Besides, don’t you have dinner to go to?” And where would he even get a car to take you.

“S’fine. Would rather make sure you get home safe anyway.” He then tells you to hang tight then goes to grab one of the rental cars the team has on ready.

Because of course they do.

Your blood hums wild knowing Joel is taking you home, that you’re going to be alone with him. Even in this glimmering dusted dream you still want to tell Malinda and Casey goodbye and thanks for treating you so kindly.

You wish them well and even welcome their warm goodbye hug.

“Wish you could come to dinner!” Casey frowns.

“Maybe next time.” Her mother in law says bright.

Next time.

“Yes hope to see you at more games.” Casey grins and the possibility bubbles iridescent in you.

With a goodbye to them you wait for Joel. There are still a few others of the wives or girlfriends hanging around while the team sorts out where to go.

You haven’t turned to give them any attention. However something crawls on your skin like you’re hyper aware of being watched.

“Did you see how she hugged him? Probably just using him, poor Joel.” One of them whispers.

“She’s not even that pretty.” Another one giggles.

“Oh then you know he’s maybe just using her then! And if that’s the case then good for Joel.” The other replies with a searing joke that makes your stomach sick.

Joel returns, keys in his hand. “Ready to go?”

You weakly grin back.

You should be basking in this moment of finally getting to be alone with Joel, of getting to see him drive you around. Once in the car he took off his cap allowing you sight of his soft hair. The darkness of the car, the warmth of the city lights flickering by, all coat him glorious. Yet those comments from earlier fester poisonous and sour any hope of enjoying this.

You stay rather quiet while giving him directions to your place.

Joel however is surprisingly talkative.

“So you’ll have to give me recommendations of places to go around here.” His voice even sounds just traces softer, higher almost - like he’s happy being here.

And it kills you.

“Y’seem quiet, you okay?” He notices it of course, ever aware.

“Yeah, just a bit tired. Didn’t know the game would take that much outta me.” You lie.

Eventually you arrive at your apartment complex.

“Your place is nice.” Joel admires as he helps you out of the car like the Texan gentleman he is. He even follows you to your door.

You graciously thank him again for this night and for taking you home.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asks again.

You walk a few steps away from him. The night all around is still quiet, feels soupy with how much hangs in you.

You refuse to cry about this, don’t want to get emotional. If anything, you deserve to treat this like an adult.

“Joel…” you start cautiously, already hating the way your voice wavers.

“Yeah?” His voice stays steady, unbothered, but his eyes furrowing say otherwise.

“What…what is this? What are we?” You ask as steady as you can, but your tone continues to crack.

Joel’s eyes brow furrow and his mouth closes, tightening his jaw.

“Just…good friends.” He replies simply, almost cold. “Just showing my pal’s daughter a nice night.”

There it is.

Your soul deflates. So all the times you’ve felt like this might be something, maybe it's just been you wishing it would be.

So salvaging whatever dignity left, you nod.

“Thanks again, Joel.” You reply briskly and return walking towards your door.

He says your name. It stops you dead in your tracks.

“Why? Why d’ya ask that?” He asks, pressing firm and hard.

You turn back to him, and a deep scowl is etched on his face.

“It doesn’t matter.” You answer.

“The fuck does that mean?” He snaps a bit sharp.

“It means what it means.” You fire back.

“Bullshit. Why did you ask that?” Joel growls out firmer.

“Even if I told you, it doesn’t matter.” You repeat.

“Stop sounding like a fuckin’ owl.” His voice rises hard and fast, like a hand slamming on the wall.

It startles you, makes your eyes water and something in you shakes. Mainly because you know this is beginning to taste like the end. The smallest trace of hope is dissipating right before you.

You blink back tears, and immediately Joel’s face falls.

“Honey, I’m sorry-”

Shaking your head, you cut him off. Not even the sweet pet name he effortlessly uses can shake you.

Through gritted teeth you tell him to go.

“Not when you’re this upset.” He urges.

Through tears a sad water laugh escapes you and Joel’s eyes go cloudy.

“I’m realizing…I’ll never be anything to you then just your friend's kid, huh?” Your voice is waterlogged and you can’t fight it.

“You are.” He states simple and straightforward.

You nod, swallowing back the heartache boiling over.

“Can’t be anythin’ more than that.” Joel adds through mutter.

“Why?” You now ask him. Under the amber light of your apartment’s hallway the most frustrated cloudy look hardens his face.

His eyes scan your face then he steps closer towards you

“Don’t act dumb, sweetheart.” His voice rips out low cruel, slightly harsh.

You’re not and you tell him that.

“I…” the words you’ve held locked up so fiercely in your heart now sneak out from their bars to escape.

“I’d give anything to be yours, Joel.” You croak barely realizing you even said that.

He inhales, and his face goes taunt.

You wait for the sharp reply, even brace for it.

Instead Joel swoops in, kisses you wild like a sudden storm, and presses you against the door of your apartment.

Greedily, you claw onto him not wanting to ever let this go, to let him go. Your mouth begs him more to invade and consume. And he does so with a steady hunger.

The clamor into your apartment is messy, but at one point Joel cautiously stops to look around.

“My roommate’s visiting family…” you reassure, kissing his neck and softly under the side of his jaw with delicate cautious lips.

“Just you and me.” You whisper soft.

Joel takes command the minute you lead him to your room.

“Thought about this. Fuck, think about ya all the damn time.” He growls against your neck as he slides your bra off and runs a callous hand over your chest.

“Fucked my fist that first night you went swimmin’ at m’house.” Joel’s words make you whine and then his lips lick against your skin trying to savor you.

“Me too.” You admit through a whimper. “Touched myself thinking of you.”

Joel freezes.

“Tell me,” he says rather calmly, deadly almost.

Your syrupy lust begins fading away when you realize what you said, what he asks for, and what your answer will be.

Your lips and eyes shut close.

Then Joel’s warm breath, like a ghost, crawls against up your chest and tickles against your ear now.

“Come on, honey,” his voice is utterly decadent with a plea. “Tell me, please.”

You swallow hard telling Joel you don't want him to get weirded out.

He hums against your neck already starting to suck a mark against your skin. Your eyes roll back, and the embarrassment is quickly fading away.

“Promise, I’ll be okay.” Joel reassures you with a mumble against your skin.

So with a shaky voice, you weakly admit how you touched yourself to videos of him.

He groans.

“Baby, oh fuck, fuckin - shit.” Joel sputters out hard, like he just got kicked in the gut, and you’re worried until his lips smash into yours.

He devours you.

You’re swept into a tangled dizzying frenzy. Your clothes practically get ripped off as do Joel’s while he clutches onto you and licks into your mouth.

“That’s my girl. Knew you’d be m’good girl.” He says almost drunk and you’re done for.

You fall into the chasm with no hopes of turning back. But you don’t want to.

Joel feels like a god carving open your universe. You want to consume him and want him to consume you. He becomes your center of gravity.

In the aftermath, you’re left basking in Joel’s warmth and never want to leave.

Even though you were in his arms, Joel had to sit up to take a call and now scrolls through his phone. Your fingers trace his beautiful back.

You’re thankful for all the soft lamps you bought that now melt him into a dreamlike glow.

“Joel.”

He hums a gruff gentle noise that says he’s listening.

“I don’t…” you begin softly, then tell him your doubts. You don’t want him to think you’re simply using him for his status or money.

“Joel… you could quit or retire tomorrow and work with your brother as a contractor and I’d still always want you the way I want you.” Your deliciously aching limbs, the soft afterglow, all of it has you speaking soft and freely.

You never wanted Joel because of his fame or even because of the forbidden taste of him being friends with your dad. You wanted Joel for deeper reasons, some that have carved out a chasm in your heart.

You explain this all to him best as you can without rambling or sounding silly.

Joel sighs.

“Y’shouldn’t.” His voice is a hollow rumble. “I’m old, friends with your dad. We shouldn’t be doin’ this.”

Now a bitter venom spills in you.

You glare at his back, how his shoulders slump defeated while you sit up

“I'm an adult, Joel. And if that’s all you’re worried about then sorry it’s a shit reason.” You launch back.

Over his shoulder he glares at you.

“If…” you swallow hard. “If you’re the one who wants to leave, because i’m that young, or you really don't want this or don’t feel what I feel, then fine. At least tell me that.”

“But I care about you. And I want to make this, us, work.” You finish firmly, even with how much emotions clash in your chest.

Joel sighs again. His eyes face turns away now down downcasted.

“Didn’t wanna want you the way I do. You’re so bright, fucking’ smart and so g’damn gorgeous.” He softly admits.

A pause settles between him and you.

“Y’could be with someone younger, less complicated.” Joel admits low.

“Don’t want anyone younger or less complicated. Just want you.” You reassure with a soft steady mutter.

He goes quiet again.

“Used to not get bothered when I started leavin’ away games by myself. With Tommy married and the business booming, then the girls startin’ to have their own lives…I didn’t mind doing this alone.”

Underneath his words you catch it, his rusting loneliness.

“But then…these past few months…and now today seeing ya waitin’ for me…” he says clipped, like the rest of his words are caught in his throat and he can’t free them yet

Joel turns, and his eyes bore into you.

The silence stays as you stare unflinchingly back at him.

He doesn’t need to say anything else. You don’t think you have to either. Like a magnetic pull, it’s effortless moving towards him. Joel’s warm large calloused hand, seasoned from so many seasons of hard work, of pitching, cradles your face. You kiss him with every inch of your heart.

Even after spending the night, you’re surprised Joel hasn’t left yet. He even comments about figuring out lunch plans with you.

“You have another game today, Cowboy.” You comment.

The term makes his eyebrows rise, and the most coy smirk tugs his face making him look so charming.

“Got today off to rest, ya little shit.” It’s affectionate. “Besides my back ain’t what it use to be and after goin’ more rounds with ya this morning-”

In the middle of your living room you rush to kiss him.

The rest of the day unfolds like a dream drenched and stitched from every domestic fantasy you’ve ever had. Joel stands in your kitchen when you make him a quick lunch and you laugh apologizing that your fridge isn’t MLB diet certified. Joel steals your last saved snack after that joke.

Cuddled snug on the couch with him, you try watching a movie but Joel, so greedy and handsy, ends up fucking your brains out with his tongue.

When dinner rolls around, you order from your favorite local takeout place and Joel pays for everything. You ignore all the work you need to do for the week and don’t care. You’re here at this moment and want to stay crystalized in it for as long as you can.

But tomorrow is the last day before the team leaves to Miami to play the Marlins.

While showering with him, you wrap yourself against Joel’s back already dreading his leave. He seems to sense it too because his hands squeezes yours.

Against your shower wall he glides into you tender and slow, almost trying to draw out every inch of this.

Later that night, you try staying up but the day begins settling in. Your eyes flutter trying to fight sleep.

He mutters your name soft while his fingers run soft against your side.

“Hm?” You answer, trying hard to fight your tired eyes.

“Don’t want ya to think i’m ever using you, honey. You’re not just some young thing keepin’ me company.”

His words are simple, but they erupt so much in you.

Joel had been spooning you from behind, but now you immediately turn around to burrow your face against his chest. You reassure him and his arms tighten around you wonderful chains you wish never break.

But the next morning arrives.

“Gonna come to our last game here?” Joel asks while he packs up.

“Don’t know, I heard you guys still have that really old guy who might be pitching.” You say with a shrug.

His face frowns hard, but Joel moves to playfully smack your ass while you laugh. He quickly draws you in for another kiss.

You have class tomorrow and work you need to jump on, but you go to the game. Joel doesn’t play, but you don’t mind. Getting to hug him goodbye one last night in the shadow of the stadium is worth it.

“Text ya when we get to the airport.” Joel promises, secretly placing a soft kiss on your head.

That night when you get home you order not one, but two Joel Miller jerseys.

[wolfiesmoon]

Shaky hands

Twisted wonderland x gn!reader

my hands are very shaky, especially when i get nervous or uncomfortable and since i often get embarrased and inconvenienced by them why not have someone comfort me for that instead ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅Malleus Draconia

Malleus just assumes you're scared of him like the rest and are pretending to stay calm.

I mean, if your hands shake so much when around him, that must be what it is. That is a clear-cut sign of fear, after all.

He doesn't mind it, but he doesn't get why you keep insisting to hang out with him then.

But you, on the other hand, like Malleus. Like like him. And it just so happens that your hands become ten times more shaky around your crush. You try to cover it up by fiddling with them and keeping them distracted but it's still obvious a lot of the time.

"Are you scared of him?" Lilia asks you, tone still calm and casual.

"Ah, no... You've got it all wrong..." you denied, cheeks heating a little.

It should be fine to tell Lilia, right? He might be a tiny little bit cunning but you doubt that he'd take this information to his advantage and blackmail you or something. He wouldn't do you like that.

"I, ummm... like him." You hid your hands behind your back to hide your obvious nervousness.

"Oh my. I never expected to hear this in a thousand years." Lilia's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't seem upset or like he was going to take advantage of you. Just pleasantly surprised.

"Just how much do you doubt Malleus...?" Lilia laughed at your comment.

"Depends on what field we're talking about. You should make a move. Who knows what might happen."

So here you are, walking next to Malleus, about to do something bold. Which happens to be gently holding his hand.

Listen, that's bold in Malleus standards.

You try to calm your hands down but nothing works so you just give up and go for it, gently taking his very still hand into your shaking one.

His hands are surprisingly warm.

"Why are you holding onto me?" He asks a bit coldly and a slight shiver runs through you. You're still not used to his cold, blunt way of speaking sometimes.

"I, ummm... how do I explain this... this is supposed to be... You know what? Do you mind it?" You just realised he might not like the feeling.

"It's strange but not particularly unwelcome. Are you not scared?" He asks, making you tilt your head. Scared of what?

"Your hands keep shaking."

"O-Oh, about that... don't worry about it. They always do." You gave him a somewhat awkward smile. He always seems to glance at your hands when you're together. So he must have been looking at that.

"Oh, I see." He replies simply.

Somehow, he feels a little relieved that you aren't afraid of him too.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅Leona Kingscholar

You narrowly avoided getting a corrosive potion spilled on you just 10 minutes ago, and your hands are still shaking from the adrenaline.

Oh my god, why does this school insist on giving you a new heart attack every day? When it isn't Grim, Deuce and Ace causing trouble it's narrowly avoiding being melted by a potion.

You don't know why, but you ended up in the garden where Leona sometimes falls asleep. Your legs just kind of took you there.

He was already awake when you found him.

"Why are you here? I thought you actually cared about class, or something." He yawned.

"I actually.... don't really know."  You looked off at some of the plants, too awkward to look him in the eye.

"What happened?" He asked all of a sudden. You must still look scared and shaken up.

"Ummm, a dangerous potion almost spilled all over me." You explained, twiddling your fingers to make your hands look less shaky.

He sighed. "If that's all, then stop shaking like a leaf." He sounded annoyed, but you doubt that he actually was. He almost seemed relieved.

"It's not that easy, genius." You shot back, furrowing your brows.

Suddenly he grabbed both of your arms, clasping them together in his own. "There. Problem solved." You had no idea if he held your hands on purpose or if that's just his simple solution to prevent shaky hands.

The slight blush on his cheeks would compel you to think it's the former.

Actually, you're not sure if you want to know the answer. What in the world would you do if a prince fell in love with you? It's a children's story book you don't even want to begin to imagine right now, as tempting as it is.

"Hey, Leona! I brought you your- Ooooh!~"

You tried pulling your hands away but Leona's grasp was too tight. He could have easily let go of your hands and pretended nothing's happened, but he didn't. Okay, now this is really weird.

"Since when are you into herbivores?" Ruggie smirked.

"Shut up, Ruggie."

Ruggie looked to you, looking for a possible explanation from you instead.

"No comment." you avoided eye contact.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅Riddle Rosehearts

You looked really nervous and scared to Riddle at that moment. And you really were.

You have a really important test in 15 minutes and your hands can't seem to calm down. You're already getting frustrated at them, attempting to stabilize them against a surface or taking deep breaths, but alas, nothing works.

"You seem to be troubled." He mentioned, glancing down at your hands.

"Oooh, it's really obvious, isn't it...?" You sighed. This is way too embarrasing.

"It's quite alright, I get how you feel." Riddle's tone became a little quieter and more gentle and he sat down next to you.

"Can you distract me for a bit? I mean, if you aren't too busy with dorm stuff." You fiddled with your fingers, hoping he would say yes.

Riddle is strangely calm around you. When you're with Ace, Grim and Deuce he's his usual uptight dorm leader self but when the two of you are alone that tone fades away.

How strange.

"Are you listening?" Riddle snaps you out of it, furrowing his brows.

"Sorry, could you repeat that?" You scratched the back of your head clumsily.

"You're always lost in thought. You should get rid of that habit. And it's rude to not listen to the other person when they speak." He scolds you. Sometimes he worries that you do that in class, too.

"Right..." you clenched your shirt, hand still shaking a little.

"This clearly isn't going to work. Let's revise one last time together." He clapped his hands, waiting for you to take out your notebook.

"Are you sure you have the time to be doing this?" You asked, now really worried that you're keeping him from something important he should be doing.

"It's shameful of me, truly." Riddle sighed, not explaining what he meant any further and leaning the notebook towards you so you can revise.

Somehow, he's willing to ignore his house warden duties to help you calm down. He wants to be concerned by that, but how can he leave you alone when you look so worried?

I swear i intended to write for someone new this time😭 oh well maybe next time

[misspygmypie]

Age Difference

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader (slight age gap) Word Count: 1666 Request: Can i request something for Lando where reader is older then Lando by 5 or 6 years and reader worry's Lando will find someone his own age but he keeps on reassuring her he lover her so very much. Like a lot. And reder talk to max about it and how she thinks it's better if she leaves him so he can find someone his own age. But Max tells Lando who has noticed she has gone distance. Happy ending though please. Masterlist

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Y/N sat by the window, watching as the world outside went about its usual business, feeling uneasy and anxious. The difference in age between her and Lando was something she had always been conscious of but recently it had started to gnaw at her more insistently.

Lando Norris was vibrant, full of life and only in his mid-twenties, while Y/N was in her early thirties. It had never seemed like a big deal before but lately she had started to worry. The thought that Lando might want to be with someone closer to his own age, someone who could share his youthful energy and ambitions or was up to party until the early morning hours, had begun to plague her mind.

One evening while they relaxed on the couch together, Lando reached out to take her hand. He noticed the distant look in her eyes, the way she seemed lost in her thoughts. He had sensed her growing distress and wanted to address it before it became a bigger issue.

“Y/N,” Lando began softly, his eyes full of concern, “I’ve been feeling like something’s been bothering you lately. I just want you to know that I love you so much. More than anything. I’m not just saying that, I mean it.”

Y/N looked at him, her heart aching. “I know you say that but sometimes I wonder if you really mean it. I worry that maybe you’re settling for me.”

Lando’s face grew serious and he gently squeezed her hand. “I’m not settling. I’m with you because you’re everything to me.”

She could see the sincerity in his eyes and it warmed her heart but her insecurities still lingered. “I just don’t want you to feel like you’re missing out on something because of me. Especially now that you're growing more popular, you could have so many other, younger girlfriends.”

“You’re not holding me back,” Lando said firmly. “If I thought for a second that being with you wasn’t right I’d tell you but that’s not the case. You’re my partner, my love and I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else.”

Despite his reassurances Y/N found it hard to shake off her fears. As the days went by she became more preoccupied with the idea that maybe Lando would be happier with someone closer to his own age. She felt a growing distance between them, a distance that she couldn’t explain but also couldn’t ignore.

One evening she couldn't handle the overwhelming feeling anymore and she decided to talk to Max, Lando’s longtime best friend and the person who knew him best. Max had always been a voice of reason and she hoped he could provide some clarity.

Y/N sat across from Max in the cozy corner of her favorite café, her coffee cooling as she fidgeted with the edge of her napkin. The conversation had shifted from their initial casual chat to something more unsettling.

“I’ve been thinking,” Y/N said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe it’s better if I leave Lando.”

Max’s brow furrowed in concern. “What do you mean? Why would you say that?”

“It’s just… I can’t shake the feeling that I’m holding him back,” Y/N explained, her eyes reflecting the turmoil inside her. “He’s so young and full of life. I see him growing more popular and I worry that he’s missing out on experiences he could have with someone closer to his own age.”

Max took a sip of his coffee, his gaze steady on Y/N. “But Lando’s made it clear that he loves you and he’s with you because he wants to be. Have you talked to him about this?”

“I have,” Y/N admitted. “And he says he loves me and doesn’t want to be with anyone else but I can’t help but feel like he’s saying that to not hurt my feelings. If I’m being honest, there’s a part of me that thinks he might be happier with someone who’s more on his wavelength, someone who can share his lifestyle without these doubts.”

Max leaned forward, his expression serious. “Y/N, love isn’t just about shared experiences or age. It’s about how you connect, how you support each other. From everything I’ve seen, Lando values you deeply. He’s not the type to stay in a relationship just out of convenience or because he feels like he should.”

“I know,” Y/N said, her voice trembling. “But it’s not just about what he wants. I keep thinking about what’s best for him. Maybe I’m not the best person for him and maybe it would be better if we both moved on. He deserves someone who isn’t plagued by insecurities and doubts.”

Max sighed, shaking his head. “Look, I understand where you’re coming from. But you have to ask yourself why you’re so willing to give up on something that’s important to both of you. Sometimes, the hardest part of a relationship isn’t the age difference or the external factors, it’s facing the insecurities and challenges.”

“It’s just so hard, Max,” Y/N’s eyes filled with tears again as she spoke, “I love him so much, but I don’t want to be the cause of his unhappiness.”

Max reached across the table, placing a reassuring hand on hers. “It sounds like you’re trying to protect him, but you’re also underestimating the strength of your relationship. If Lando has reassured you that he’s committed to you, then you need to trust that. If you really believe in your relationship, then you should be willing to fight for it, not just walk away because of fear.”

Y/N nodded slowly, her mind racing, but she still wasn’t convinced.

________

Max and Lando were hanging out at Max’s place, having a rare moment to unwind after a hectic week. Lando was in high spirits but Max had something on his mind that he needed to address.

“Hey, Lando,” Max began casually, “I had a chat with Y/N recently.”

Lando looked up, his interest piqued. “Oh? How’s she doing?”

“She’s been struggling with some doubts about your relationship,” Max said carefully. “She mentioned feeling like maybe it would be better if she stepped away. She’s worried she’s holding you back because of the age difference.”

Lando’s face clouded with concern. “She said that? I thought we were getting through it.”

Max nodded. “Yeah, she’s been feeling insecure. She loves you a lot, but she’s been thinking she might not be what’s best for you.”

Lando’s expression softened with frustration and worry. “I’ve told her over and over that I’m with her because I want to be. The age difference isn’t an issue for me. I just wish she could see that.”

“I told her the same thing,” Max said. “But you know how these things are, sometimes it’s hard for her to believe it, even when it’s coming from you.”

“I need to talk to her again,” Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I want to make sure she knows how serious I am about this. If she’s feeling this way, it’s clearly affecting her more than I realized.”

Max gave a supportive nod. “Yeah, you should have another conversation. Let her know how much she means to you and that you’re not looking for anyone else. It might help her feel more secure.”

“I will,” Lando said firmly. “Thanks for letting me know. I just want to fix this before it gets any worse.”

“No problem,” Max replied. “I’m here if you need anything. Just remember, communication is key. Show her that you’re in this for the long haul.”

________

When Lando came home from training the next day he decided it was time to chat with her. “Y/N,” he approached her, “we need to talk.”

“What’s up?”

“Y/N, I know what you said to Max, he told me and before you blame him for saying anything, I am so glad he did, because now I can address this with you before you make any stupid decisions,” Lando said and he saw the anxiety creep up into her eyes. “Please, talk to me Y/N, what’s going on?”

Y/N took a deep breath, her eyes meeting his with vulnerability. “I’ve been worried about our relationship. About the age difference. I keep thinking that maybe you’d be happier with someone closer to your age. I don’t want to hold you back or make you feel like you’re missing out. I know I've said it before but I'm really struggling with these thoughts and I can't stop thinking about it.”

Lando’s expression softened immediately. He stepped closer and took her hands in his. “Y/N, it hurts me so much to see you like this. I need you to listen to me, really listen, and I need you to know that I’m not thinking about being with anyone else. I’m with you because I love you. The age difference doesn’t change that, it doesn’t change how I feel about you. I love you for who you are and I don't care how many years we have between us”

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes as she listened to him, the weight of her fears beginning to lift. “But what if you’re just saying that because you don’t want to hurt me?”

“No,” Lando said firmly, his gaze steady and sincere. “I’m telling you the truth. I’m with you because I want to be. You’re not holding me back, you’re making me better and my life better. You're my everything. I’m not looking for someone else or a different kind of relationship. I’m here because I love you.”

Y/N’s heart ached with relief as she threw her arms around him, tears streaming down her face. “I love you so much,” she whispered.

“I love you too,” Lando replied, his voice thick with emotion. “And I want us to work through this together. And we will.”

________

AN: Anon I hope you like it and if not let me know and I can rewrite 😊🫶

[revelboo]

I just finished reading the latest starscream chapter, and all I can think its the MC going "boys boys, you are both pretty, you don't need to fight over me." It's just something funny that popped in my head

I love the writing, it's fantastic, it saves me from during dead hours at work

Everything is Alright Pt 45

Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

• Fully aware of how much his presence is aggravating Soundwave, Starscream props his chin on a fist, wings flared out as far as he can to take up as much space as possible. And he smiles. As amusing as it is to antagonize the communication’s officer, the fact that the other mech has his servos curled around you, your little hands on him is driving Starscream crazy. Making it hard to be still and not just lunge to get to you, because you belong with him. Only him. The sight of you being held by someone else is clawing through his spark.

• Soundwave is making that low, rumbling noise that puts you in mind of a giant, powered on speaker humming through you where his servos are touching you. He’s angry, you realize in surprise. He’s always so in control, so this little show of temper locks your breath in your lungs. Swallowing, you glance from him to Starscream, seeing that sly smirk on your Seeker’s face. The same smile he has whenever he talks about himself, sure and cocky. Deliberately needling Soundwave for some reason. Was he that worried about you or just jealous of the other mech? You’re betting on the latter, knowing how unpredictable he can be when provoked. Especially as you notice the faint tremor of his wings and your heart aches for him. He’s on edge, more upset than he’s letting on.

• Servos flexing as your worried thoughts spill through him, he wants to pull you closer. Soothe away that anxiety beginning to build inside you, but knows trying to do so will only tip Starscream over the edge. As calm as the Seeker is pretending to be, it’s too easy to pick up on that growing instability quickly approaching a boiling point. To realize that any wrong move and the Seeker might lash out to try and take you. And end up hurting you in the process without meaning to. Venting softly, Soundwave picks you up and turns to gently set you on your feet on the floor, reluctantly nudging you toward the Seeker with a servo. You look back at him over your shoulder, your expression easing some. Understanding. “Go, little one,” he says, spark aching. Wanting to pull you back to him. To safety.

• As soon as you’re on the ground, Starscream goes still. Not even looking at Soundwave as you walk to him, head tipping up to smile at him. “Come,” he growls, kneeling to offer you a hand. Satisfaction warming him as you settle yourself in his palm willingly. Lifting you to cradle to his chassis where you belong, he finally lifts his optics to smirk at the communications officer, but Soundwave is watching you. He won, but it doesn’t quite feel like a victory somehow. “Let’s go home.”

• Why does leaving Soundwave hurt? Feel so much like leaving a part of yourself behind? Starscream’s servos tighten around you, warm as he presses you against him so you can feel the thrum of his spark. That sensation calming you as you let your cheek rest against him, because this feeling is home, not his quarters. But Soundwave feels this way, too. Not quite the same, but something you need just as bad. Missing one when you’re with the other. Always torn between them.

• Tension draining away with the feel of you in his servos, he lifts you higher to brush his lips against your shoulder and cheek. Sees your eyes widen in surprise as you lay a little hand on his chin, your face reddening. But not protesting the contact. Not trying to push him away. Tempting him to demand more when you’re both safely inside his quarters. Replace the scent on you with his, feel you in his arms. He can push just a bit, a taste, a touch, won’t ruin anything between you. He needs to believe that. Needs more.

Previous

Next

[tinylilacbun]

Too Naive?

Pairing: daddy!rafe x maybank!little!reader

Warnings: POTENTIAL SPOILERS FOR OBX4 (not really since I changed the dialogue a little but still)!! age regression, rafe being rafe, ruthie, reader is jj's twin, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, the pogues know reader regresses, cursing

A/N: This is the longest fic I've ever written, phew. This was supposed to be a drabble btw 🫣 word count: 2324

⋆｡‧˚ʚ ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ɞ˚‧｡⋆

As you made your way to the yacht club you smiled the whole way there, anticipating the exciting news Rafe wants to tell you about.

Your smile only grows when you find Rafe standing with Topper, both nursing their drinks and your face fell a little when Topper's girlfriend Ruthie joins at his side.

"Oh babe, I was just talking to Rafe how we're gonna screw the pogues and make amends." Topper tells her and she clinks her glass with his.

"Oh I'll drink to that. Not sure Rafe will though." She says before taking a sip from her straw.

Rafe narrows his eyes in confusion at that as he is about to raise his glass to his lips. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean your girlfriend, right?"

You furrow your brows at the mention of you, hiding a little by the entrance to eavesdrop.

"Y/n? What about her?" Rafe asks and Ruthie grimaces a little with a hiss.

"She's pretty pogue isn't she? And too childish for someone like you." She explains.

Your whole mood changes when you hear that, expecting Rafe to defend you now but after the moment of silence your heart drops at his answer.

"She is a bit naive but just because we hook up doesn't mean it's anything serious." He replies and your whole world crumbles just like that.

You thought it was something serious, that you could trust him with your life, and you did exactly that by telling him about your regression.

The memory of him assuring you that it's okay, that he's gonna be there for you and gradually take the role as your caregiver but Rafe being Rafe he doesn't understand the importance of what that means to you.

It took you so much courage to even tell him and now hearing him say that breaks your heart. You feel stupid for being so open the second someone gives you a sense of security. JJ always tells you to watch with whom you share your secrets with but you thought it was different with Rafe.

Maybe Rafe is right, you were so naive to think that he loves you for who you are.

You simply turn around and leave, trying to push back the tears that threaten to slip as you make your way to the only place you know no one will judge you and the only person who knows how to comfort you right now.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Wrapping your arms around yourself you keep walking for a while, a warm feeling filling your chest as you approach your childhood home that your brother and the pogues morphed into an actual home now.

You haven't been here for a while, completely wrapped in your lovesick bubble with Rafe that you slightly feel bad for neglecting your true family for something that was bound to collapse as your brother would say.

From the distance you can see them all mingle around their freshly opened shop, crossing the dock.

The first person to notice you is John B, a smile forming on his face at the sight of you, quickly closing the distance between the two of you. "Look who it is! My favorite Maybank twin!"

You can't help but give him a small smile as well, wrapping your arms around his neck as he wraps his arms around your waist, spinning you both one time.

The second he sets you back down you see JJ behind him, feeling the tears build up again. He instantly notices that, a sad frown on his face he pulls you into his embrace.

"Wanna talk?" He whispers and you nod against him, gripping his shirt tightly. "C'mon, let's get on The Snapper, haven't seen the beauty yet, have you?"

You pull back, smiling again when he takes his hat off to place it on your head, keeping an arm around your shoulders.

He leads you towards the boat, helping you get on he turns to address the others. "You guys gonna be okay for a while without your captain?"

They all give him different types of agreement, some giving verbal responses and others just holding a thumbs up.

With that JJ gets behind the wheel, stirring away from the dock while you sit close, enjoying the pleasant breeze of the afternoon.

After a while, your brother slows down the boat, going to sit beside you he sees you fumble with the ear of your lamb plushie.

"What happened..." He finally asks, his voice quiet and gentle.

You recount everything that happened back at the yacht club, starting to sniffle the more you tell him. JJ stands up, pacing in front of you and running a hand through his tousled hair.

"That bastard." He curses and you lift your head with a frown.

"Jay...m'little." You mumble, looking back down at the lamb in your lap. This stuffed animal represents your journey with Rafe since you confessed being a little to him as it's the first thing he bought you after you told him.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm just-" he groans in frustration, sitting back down next to you.

"Jus' say it..."

JJ looks at you, confusion written in his face. "Say what?"

"You warned me dis would happen..." You hiccup and he quickly pulls you more into his side, feeling you wrap your arms around him, squeezing him tightly.

"Oh, kiddo...that doesn't mean I enjoy seeing you upset." He comforts you, his hand moving up and down your back to soothe you. "It'll be alright."

Finally all your emotions pour over and you start to cry against your brother's shoulder, your body shaking from the force of your sobs.

A few hours later you are dressed in some comfortable pajamas, all snuggled up with Sarah, Kie, and Cleo outside on a couch that's standing near a crinkling fireplace, a weighted blanket covering you four and your lamb tucked under your chin while the boys are being their usual self, drinking beers and listening to music.

You have put your phone on silent, ignoring all messages and missed calls from Rafe but you did inform him that you're here, nothing more, so he doesn't think the worst by you not responding.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Rafe was pacing back and forth in the living room, nibbling on the nail of his thumb, looking down at the phone in his hand and not so patiently waiting for you to call or just answer his messages.

He stares at the screen, waiting for the three dots to appear that indicates you are texting, but nothing. He curses when he tries to call you for like the 30th time and it instantly goes to voicemail.

"Call me back when you hear this I- please." He speaks into his phone, his other hand running over his buzzed head anxiously.

Pulling his phone away from his ear he stops his pacing, coming to a stop in front of the dresser that has a few picture frames decorated on the top.

He glances at the one that held a picture of him and Sarah when they were kids, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over him.

Family is the most important thing. Take care of each other.

His father's words echo in his head. Rafe crosses his arms, letting out a long exhale. He looks at a picture of the both of you where he's hugging you from behind, your bright smile being the exact thing he wishes he could see right now.

He still doesn't know what's going on with you, why you're distancing yourself from him and he desperately wants to fix it but when he turns to look at the clock and sees how late it is he knows you're already asleep by now.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ɞ˚‧｡⋆

The next morning you get woken up by the sun shining through the thin blinds, hearing the birds chirping outside. You sit up with a sleepy grumble, rubbing the sleep from your eyes you reach over to grab your phone, still adjusting to the bright morning sun.

You sigh when you see the new calls and messages from Rafe but decide to ignore it, getting up from the comfort of your bed you make your way to the kitchen.

As you're about to open the fridge you can hear some commotion coming from outside and go to check what's going on, freezing in the front doorway when you see Rafe and JJ going at each other's throats while John B and Pope are holding back your brother to probably prevent him from beating Rafe into a pulp.

"She doesn't wanna fucking see you!" JJ shouts and you walk down the steps, everyone turning to face you at hearing your footsteps.

Rafe is relieved to see you're okay, physically at least, not knowing the actual damage he has done by what he said to Topper and Ruthie.

"Baby..." Rafe makes a move to approach you but JJ wrenches himself from the other's hold to stand in front of you.

"Don't even think about it. As much as I would love to beat you up right now, she somehow still cares about you what I don't get but don't push your luck." Your brother warns him, pulling you behind him protectively.

Rafe clenches his jaw, looking over JJ's shoulder at you, his chest feeling tight at the way you look at him and he can't decipher why. "Can we talk? I just...I want to understand-"

JJ is about to spit more insults at him when you place your hand on his arm to get his attention, muttering softly. "S'okay..."

He turns his head to meet your gaze. "Y'sure? You don't have to if you don't wanna."

You give him a small reassuring smile, nodding your head at him. He reluctantly steps aside, pointing a finger at Rafe. "We'll be right over there so don't think of anything stupid."

The pogues retreat a good amount of feet away and you turn your head to face Rafe again, the smile disappearing again and your expression somber.

"Listen I- I got this deal which looks promising in the future a-and when it's through we can build a house, together." Rafe rambles, fidgeting with his hands as he waits for your reaction. "I wanted to tell you yesterday but you didn't show up, ignoring me completely and I-" he laughs nervously.

"Oh I don't know, maybe I'm too naive or what was it again, childish." You try to keep up a tough exterior, crossing your arms but can't stop the trembling of your bottom lip.

His eyes widen a tad when you say that, the realization that you heard the conversation from yesterday feeling like a slap in the face.

"Yeah, I was there." You force out, your voice cracking slightly. "That you wouldn't live with a pogue 'cause you have standards."

Rafe for once in his life doesn't know how to respond. He takes a step closer to, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"But maybe you're right..." You chuckle sadly, starting to raise your voice. "I guess I was so naive to actually think you left that pogue and kook shit behind and love me for who I am!"

"Baby, listen-" he begins but you cut him off, lifting your hand to stop him mid sentence.

"Don't...don't call me that." You whisper.

"I fucked up, okay? What I said yesterday...it was wrong and I can't expect you to forgive me for that but believe me when I say that I realized this whole pogue or kook stuff doesn't matter to me anymore. I mean, my dad was born as a pogue, I shouldn't have cared before and I definitely don't now. I- I know I can't take back what I said and that you're hurt." He says, taking another step to stand right in front of you, leaning down a little to have direct eye contact with you he lifts his hands to place them on your arms.

Now you start to tear up from his touch alone, wanting nothing more than to find solace in his hold but refrain from moving a single muscle.

"I'm sorry, I truly am. I love you and I want to plan my future with you in it." He lowers his voice, grabbing your chin gently to lift your head.

You analyze his expression for any sign that he's lying or just trying to make you fall for it again but you can see the honesty in his eyes.

Biting your lip in hesitation, a single tear rolls down your cheek and Rafe is quick to wipe it away with his thumb, the action having you feel that familiar fuzzy feeling in your head. "Y-You pwomise?"

"I swear...the only thing I care about is you. I'll do better, I'll make up with Sarah and help the others out so you and your brother won't lose the property." He promises.

With a sniffle you finally wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. Rafe sighs, moving his arms around your frame as well, placing his chin on top of your head. "I love you so much you don't understand..."

"I love you too daddy..." You mumble into the fabric of his shirt, holding onto him. "But I wan' that new jellycat bunny, the big one."

He chuckles at that. "Of course, that and anything else you want."

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

[literatureloverx]

Would BSD men sacrifice their true love for the sake of the world, or would they let the world burn?

I know you are on a break for a while, so feel free to reply any time you feel like replying. However, I do sincerely wish you are resting properly and eating well. You are being missed and appreciated, our dearest Snow White, who is as beautiful and graceful as her name!

-🛵🌻

Awww, you’re flattering me, 🛵🌻-anon! Thank you so much. ♥️ Please forgive me for keeping some of these brief without much explanation—I’m still unwell. 🥺♥️

Please keep in mind that my requests are actually closed! I made an exception because this one intrigued me.♥️

Would BSD men sacrifice their true love for the sake of the world, or would they let the world burn?

Featured characters: Fyodor Dostoevsky, Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya, Nikolai Gogol, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke.

BSD MEN x fem!reader

I know this might surprise many of you, but I believe FYODOR might actually be capable of sacrificing the world for his darling. While we don’t know much about him, we do know he is intensely focused on his singular goal and unwaveringly confident in it. However, love is unpredictable—it can make even the most logical person act irrationally. Fyodor, being a semi-canon yandere and canonically willing to gift his darling an entire country as a Valentine’s Day present, shows that he could prioritise his darling in unexpected ways.

Though he is detached and calculative, this doesn’t necessarily mean his obsession lies solely with his ideal world and not his darling. His perception of love likely wouldn’t be romantic or warm—after all, this is Fyodor we’re talking about—but that doesn’t make it any less consuming. If he were to sacrifice the world, it would likely appear to be a practical, impersonal decision on the surface, though it would stem from deeply personal feelings.

Of course, his darling would have to bear the burden of being his weakness, paying the price for making him burn the world down for her.

DAZAI doesn't see a reason to live and has a complicated inner moral compass —if he even has one at all. If he were to find another reason to live beyond his darling, he might let the world burn to protect that purpose. Otherwise, he would likely choose to sacrifice his darling along with himself, as he would want to die together with them.

In doing so, he would simultaneously honour Odasaku's dying wish to save innocent people and do good, while also fulfilling his own desire for a double suicide—albeit in a twisted and tragic way.

CHUUYA… my beloved Chuuya. He would sacrifice you for the sake of the world, but not without crying his heart out in the process. He’s someone who carries his heart on his sleeve, no matter how much he tries to mask it with his tough exterior. This decision wouldn’t just break him—it would shatter him. He’d be haunted by the memory of what he’d done, the sound of your voice, your smile, and the warmth you brought into his life.

After that, he would never be the same. Chuuya, with all his passion and fire, would lose a part of himself—his joy, his light, and perhaps even his will to keep going. Though he wouldn’t let the world burn for you, his sacrifice would scorch his soul in ways no one else could see. He would shoulder the weight of the decision, carrying it like an eternal wound, always hidden beneath his bravado.

I don’t believe he has it in him to let the entire world burn just to keep you. Chuuya’s sense of duty, his unwavering commitment to the people he cares for, and his understanding of the bigger picture wouldn’t allow him to prioritise one life over billions. But that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t destroy him. Deep down, he’s just a man with a heart far too big for the world he lives in.

Yet, in his own way (or maybe even literally), he would die the day you did. Perhaps he would let himself waste away, quietly fading from the world as he lost the only person who made it feel like home. Or perhaps he would go out in a blaze of fury, throwing himself into battles he knew he wouldn’t return from. Either way, the Chuuya you knew—the one who loved you with all his being—would be gone, leaving only a shadow of the man who once was.

NIKOLAI is an obsessive individual, deeply scarred by trauma, pain, and mental instability. He would undoubtedly let the world burn for his darling. Despite his philosophical outlook, which claims to encompass all of humanity, his approach is ultimately rooted in his own personal experiences and inner struggles. At the end of the day, everything is about him.

His so-called friendship with Fyodor is a prime example of this—he clings to it not because Fyodor is a fascinating person in his own right, but because he believes Fyodor is the only one who truly understands him. Not once have we seen Nikolai genuinely reflect on Fyodor’s goals or thoughts. Similarly, his darling would need to be someone who both understands and cherishes him, which would inevitably drive his romantic obsession with her.

There’s no chance Nikolai would sacrifice his darling for anything. However, after letting the world burn for her, would he ultimately kill her because she understands him better than even Fyodor? The possibility is disturbingly high.

Before meeting the ADA Dazai and Atsushi, AKUTAGAWA would likely have let the world burn for his darling without hesitation. His overwhelming need for validation, coupled with his devotion to those he holds dear, would drive him to extreme lengths, prioritising his personal attachments above all else. His harsh upbringing and struggles for survival have made him fiercely protective of those who matter to him, making it plausible that he would abandon the world for his darling’s sake.

However, after his experiences with Atsushi, Akutagawa would find himself in a moral dilemma. These encounters push him to question his black-and-white worldview, challenging him to consider the value of broader ideals like justice, compassion, and sacrifice for the greater good. His budding respect for Atsushi and his complex, unresolved feelings toward Dazai would weigh heavily on his conscience, creating an internal struggle.

While he may still feel a deep, almost obsessive desire to protect his darling at any cost, the lessons he’s learned would make him pause.

[crushribbons]

𝖈𝖗𝖚𝖘𝖍𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 (𝖓𝖔. 𝖎𝖛)

prompt: [ ARRANGED ] muses are in an arranged marriage and now have to consummate the union (source)

char: sebastian sallow [hogwarts legacy] x fem!oc

warnings: non-orphan richboy seb au (but not in a happy way i'm sorry), SMUT (18+ ONLY), unprotected penetrative sex, mentions of pregnancy, kinda antiquated marriage talk but he still #respectswomen

a/n: halloween wedding in a gothic castle with sebastian sallow. oh wait this isn't my vision board hang on

The handkerchief hit her in the face before his words did: "Stop that." She sniffed loudly. "Enough snivelling. You think I wanted this?" Sebastian Sallow, the heir to his parent's enormous fortune and most desirable bachelor in England, towered over her while he looked down with disdain at her weeping.

Sebastian Sallow, her new husband.

The wedding had been a balance of pain and mercy, the very brief service almost quick enough for her to forget that she was being forced into a loveless relationship with this man she'd never met before. His father had gruffly muttered something in Sebastian's ear before shoving him at her as she stood at the altar.

When the priest had prompted them to mumble "I do" at each other, a sob had snagged in her chest, which made Sallow scowl at her. A wonderful omen for my marriage, she thought, somewhat hysterically.

Now, she cowered on the beautiful duvet of the bed she and her husband were supposed to consummate the marriage in, but all her husband seemed interested in was brooding out the window at the sinking sun. Twilight was settling around the grounds of the castle that the Sallow dynasty had provided for their wedding.

She had no desire to do what was expected of her. The idea of her wedding night had always excited her, but it was never meant to be shared with a virtual stranger.

Although, in fairness to the virtual stranger...She found her heart rate slowing as she watched Sebastian frown down upon the grounds. There were much uglier men that her family could have thrust upon her. She'd heard that he'd been something of a ladies' man during his school years, though because of her parents' decision to ship her off to Ilvermorny, she did not know how accurate the wild rumors about the Sallow boy really were.

He spoke at last, and her eyes, which had been meandering down his body while he stretched an arm to rest on the window frame, snapped up to his face. "I suppose we are expected to..." His teeth clenched together.

"I suppose so," she agreed. Sallow didn't seem particularly keen on the idea of taking his new, young wife to bed. She wondered if there was someone else, someone she'd now prevented him from being with. The thought made her a little sad; why, she wasn't sure.

Sebastian sighed. Some of the tensity in his shoulders dissipated as he finally turned from the window to look at her. "I'm sorry," he said, and her heart broke.

She rose from the bed, her ostentatious wedding gown making every action more difficult. When she took a step closer to him, her shoe caught on the hem and she tripped forward, but two warm hands wrapped around her forearms and caught her. She looked up to see Sebastian, inches away from her face. His eyes were hazel, she learned in that instant, and she thought that they might be very nice eyes to wake up to.

"You look beautiful, by the way," he muttered. "Are beautiful, I mean." She blushed. Sebastian cleared his throat and ran his thumbs up and down the soft skin of her arms. He had pulled his tie off the second they'd entered the room and cast it down on the floor, and the small patch of his throat and collarbone that were exposed by his open collar made something in her chest flutter. If we absolutely have to seal this wedding night, I could be convinced...

"We barely know each other," she whispered, feeling as though she had to acknowledge that fact, more for herself than him, because he was so attractive that she worried it was turning her head. Sebastian nodded.

"So why do I want to throw you down on that bad and ravage you so badly," he asked without the inflection of a question. His voice was low and scraped up her body in a way that made every nerve combust, as if she were a match he was lighting. He slid his hands up her arms, feeling every bit of lace between his fingers along the way, until he was cradling her face.

She could feel his breath against her lips when he said, "Tell me to stop if you don't want to do this. I know we're meant to–" He broke off and swallowed thickly, not wanting to even say the word "baby", though they both knew what was expected of them, "–but I want to make you feel good. Tell me to stop." She answered him by closing the space between their mouths.

Sebastian moaned prettily into the kiss, his fingers digging into the sides of her face as he gripped her tighter and laved his tongue across hers. He tasted like the champagne they'd both reluctantly sipped at dinner. At the time, it hadn't felt like much of a celebration.

But now, as they broke apart, panting, and began tugging their stiff finery off, she felt the party had really begun.

Her bare back hit the bed and a little "oof!" popped out of her, but her giggles were quickly swallowed when Sebastian climbed on top of her with his own wolfish grin. "I thought you'd be horrible," he admitted as he kissed a ring around her neck and chest.

"And I thought you'd be an ugly old man," she half-lied through a smile of relief, and Sebastian snorted against her skin.

"Looks like we both got a nice wedding present then, didn't we?" His fingers tickled teasingly around her hips, making her back arch off the bed in an attempt to make him touch her where she needed. They were still in their undergarments, and a wave of embarrassment washed over her when Sebastian hooked a finger in the top of her slip and tugged it down over her breasts, but the look of reverent amazement on his face as he gazed at her pushed any shame far from her mind. She was dripping wet, she could feel it. He pushed a lazy finger into her without warning and she gasped, Sebastian's grin widening until she saw every one of his straight, white teeth.

As he pulled his–God, impressive cock from his pants and gave it a few languid strokes, she looked up at him and thought, Fuck, I can't believe I'm married to this man. The thought manifested itself verbally when he lined himself up at her entrance and sank into her, thick inch by thick inch, and she whimpered, "My husband..." "My pretty little wife," he affirmed immediately, pressing his forehead to hers and moving his hips in a light circle while her tightness subsided. "So fucking gorgeous. I'm gonna be buried inside you every damn night." His head shot up, his cheeks dusted pink despite the compromising position. "If you'll have me, that is."

"Yes, Seb, I'll have you!" She laughed and groaned, and Sebastian seemed unable to hold himself back any longer. He grabbed her under her knees so he could wrap her legs around his waist, and then his hands were on either side of her shoulders and he was driving into her like their lives depended on it.

"Fuck. God, fuck." He muttered to himself on every thrust. The lamps casting low orange light all over the room were beginning to burn low, and the fireplace sat cold and empty, since they'd never called for anyone to light it. Sebastian's face was cast in half-shadow as he lowered his head and pressed kisses to her face. Her fingers tangled, one in the disturbed sheets they fucked on top of, and one in the hair at the base of her husband's neck.

A tight column of pressure was rapidly unraveling in her stomach, and she suspected Seb might be close as well, as the rhythm of his hips stuttering and slowing suggested. "N-keep going, please, I'm so close," she cried, her nails digging into the nape of his neck. He whined a little but picked up his pace once more until the antique headboard was pounding into the wall. Sebastian reached up and steadied himself against it with one hand, the other returning to the back of her leg as he pulled their bodies flush.

He looked down at the filthy sight of his cock sliding in and out of her, covered in her wetness, and said hoarsely, though with composure (like the well-bred gentleman he was), "I'm, shit, I'm going to–ahh!" Her orgasm hit both of them like a tidal wave, ripping through her body until she screamed and shuttered, her cunt pulsing around him. "Fuck!" Sebastian yelled. "Where do you want me, quickly!"

"Inside, it's alright," she assured him, but part of her stiffened in fear. She may have been relieved to find that her husband wasn't disgusting and had an incredible amount of sexual stamina, but the idea of falling pregnant with his baby, the baby his parents wanted so much more desperately than he did, terrified her.

Sebastian shook his head, biting down on the side of his mouth and refusing to look at her. Then he gave one final, loud groan and pulled out of her with an almost pained expression marring his flushed visage. With three quick strokes of his hand, he came on her stomach, ropes of cum painting her torso and chest as he took in the entire scene with his mouth opened in a perfect "o".

He collapsed next to her with promises that he'd clean her up in a minute, just a minute, he just needed a minute after all that. She giggled a little, too lost in the thick haze of sex that hung over the four-poster bed to care about the mess on her stomach. She glanced down at it.

That's not what a dutiful son whose been instructed to produce heirs does. Perhaps Sebastian wasn't as duty-minded as his station suggested.

When they drifted off in each other's arms later that night, stars out in full force and moonlight filtering in the window and over their bed, she murmured into his neck, "Good night, Seb." She lifted her head slightly to look at his peaceful face. His eyes were already shut. “Oh. Is it alright if I call you that?” The realization that she still had only just met this man came rushing back. A small smile twitched at the corner of his mouth.

"More than alright. G'night, darling."

[anxious-lee]

The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known || Hazbin Tickle Fic ||

A/N: this entire fic was inspired by that one scene where Al threatens Husk in ep 5. it broke my heart to see him so utterly petrified so I wrote this as a hurt/comfort for myself

Warnings: mentions of Alastor's control over Husk, slight NSFW language but it's not actually sexual I just didn't have any synonyms for what I meant lol

Word count: 2,466

-----

When you're an Overlord of Hell, you tend to get pretty comfortable with staying in control.

Because one wrong move can mean the end of the line.

Husk knew that better than most.

And even now, after all that power of his was lost, he still found himself more suited to calling the shots in whatever situation he found himself in. It was just easier that way. If he could remain on top of things, then nothing would go wrong. Mostly.

That feeling of security never lasted long, though, because sooner or later, he was reminded of the terrible choice he made long ago. That he gave away his autonomy to the most psychotic demon in hell.

The way he spoke to him. Like he was so small. And insignificant. Like he existed purely for the bastard's own amusement and nothing else. Any input given was condescended to, patronized, and dehumanized. It formed an ugly little pit in Husk's chest. How little control he had once Alastor stepped into the room. It scared him, in a way that so few things did.

At least he had someone else to talk to who knew how he felt.

Speaking of whom, Angel Dust strutted into the bedroom, sporting a fluffy silk robe.

"Hope I didn't make you wait too long~" he whined seductively.

"Not long at all," the other purred.

The two settled down together in bed, soaking in each other's embrace.

Tonight was all about them, huddled together in hell's moonlight.

Husk remained still as Angel shifted downward until his head fit under Husk's chin, knowing just where to go.

He loved to be pampered, that much was obvious.

It was peaceful for some time before Angel's eyes suddenly blinked open.

"Hey. How come you never want a turn at being the little spoon? I'm not unreasonable, I'm sure we could share," he said coyly.

Husk didn't quite know what to say to that. It wasn't something that needed to be spoken in words. Husk dominated, Angel submitted (in more ways than one). It seemed almost absurd to suggest that Husk would be the one being given affection.

"Nah, I'm good. You look pretty comfy down there, anyway."

Angel, however, wasn't satisfied with that answer. He pulled himself back to get a good look at the cat's face, cocking his own head curiously. Who wouldn't want to be on the receiving end? Even once? It couldn't be understated how warm and protected one could feel in the arms of another. And Husk didn't want that? Did he feel pressured to say that because he knew Angel liked to take that spot?

"Really? You THAT much of a top that you can't play second fiddle once?" said Angel.

"I'm just not a big... "softy-cuddles" kinda guy, as if you already couldn't tell," Husk admitted, gesturing to his overall gruff demeanor.

Angel studied his face.

"Not buying that for a second," he said, punctuating each word with a poke to the chest. "Come on, you're missing out!"

"That's sweet, babe, but I'm-"

"Just five minutes?" Angel pleaded, holding five fingers up in front of him, "Five minutes of me cuddling you for a change. If you decide you hate it, I won't bring it up again. I just... you're always taking care o' me. I want to give some of that back to you, ya'know? You deserve it."

Fuck.

How was he supposed to say no to those puppy eyes?

Besides, it couldn't hurt... right?

"Fine," Husk relented.

"Yay!" His boyfriend cheered.

They rearranged their positions; Husk now farther down the length of the bed and Angel wrapping all three pairs of arms around him like a furry burrito. His knees and head also tucked themselves inward to cradle the cat properly.

It still made Husk a little tense, letting someone handle him so willfully, but the touch was too nice to deny for very long. Thoughts of safety oozed into his brain as his body relaxed against the chest behind him.

"See? Now isn't this nice?" said Angel softly, barely above a whisper, "For a man who supposedly doesn't little-spoon, you've got the moves down pat."

"I'm not making any moves," Husk mumbled, smiling loudly in his voice.

"Well, you're relaxed, aren't ya?"

In a way.

Angel peered down at the bundle of fuzz, taking in how much shorter he was in comparison.

"Awww! I never noticed how cute you were from up here." His hand began petting the top of the kitty's head, smoothing down the hair.

And there was that feeling again. The one that couldn't let Husk enjoy a good thing while he had it. The fear of releasing control.

"I'm not a pet," he grumbled, having no control over the defensiveness in his voice.

Angel, ever oblivious, pressed on. "Oh, but you are to me~. My sweet little Husky~."

Finally, the camel's back broke under that straw.

"Just stop, okay?! I don't-" Husk took a much-needed breath, sitting up, "I know being treated like a toy is your thing, but it's not mine. I don't like being talked to like I'm a pet. Like all I am is your little dancing monkey." It dawned on him just how much of all that was directed at Alastor. The words sunk in like cement in a lake, and he turned his eyes away, unable to look at what he just ruined.

Angel blinked. All of sudden, the moment had soured, and he had no clue why. Was it something he said? Husk said he didn't want to be treated like a toy. Is that how he felt? Like he wasn't valued? That wasn't what he was trying to say at all! It was adoration! Not condescension.

"What...?" Angel breathed.

"Forget it. Just, I'm sorry-"

"No! No, don't apologize," Angel interrupted, choosing his next words carefully, "I'm sorry if I made you feel that way. It wasn't what I meant to say. I wasn't tryin' to say you were weak or small. I was... I was trying to tells you that I adore ya. You do so much for me and our friends. You look out for us, and protect us, and listen to our bullshit problems all the time.

"I think so highly of you, Husk. You don't take shit from no one, not even me. You're unafraid to speak your mind. You know how to keep your head when life gets messy. I got nothing but respect for you. That's why I wanted to do all this. That's why I want to pamper you with love and shit. Because you're always so strong, and I wanted to... I don't know... give you the space where you didn't have to be strong. Not with me."

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Husk couldn't find the words even if he tried. He had never heard such meaningful things spoken about him. Him, the grouchy barfly. How could he possibly come back from such a beautiful declaration? Especially now with how foolish he felt. It had never occurred to him that accepting affection was an act of good, and not an admission of weakness. That someone could be trusted to hold him in their hands and lift him up rather than drag him down.

Angel could never be Alastor. This was not a hostage situation.

This was a security.

One that he felt that he needed in this moment more than ever.

"Fuck... I'm sorry. I messed up everything and spoiled the mood. I'm still not very good at this whole intimacy stuff," Husk sighed.

"I know, and it's okay. I can teach you," Angel cupped his hand around Husk's cheek.

Husk leaned into the touch. "And uh... thanks. For what you said."

"I meant it."

What did Husk do on Earth to deserve such an Angel?

"Look, if uh. Ahem. If you still wanted to... to do what you were doing before... you know, I won't fight you," Husk stammered, falling quieter with each word.

If that's the only means of permission that Angel can get right now, then he'll take it. He gently eased Husk onto his back once more.

"Good. 'Cause I still have lots more love to give you, sweetcheeks." Angel's iconic smile returned.

Even though Husk basically just admitted he wanted Angel to keep going, his praises were beginning to fluster him. The corners of his lips started to rise, and the only defense he had against them was to turn his face away from the man in front of him.

"You like it when I talk to you like that, huh, baby? Do you hear in my voice how much I'm crazy about you? How I'd do anything for ya? Cause I would~. There's nothing that you don't deserve," Angel said, scratching oh so lightly beneath Husk's chin.

Husk squeezed his eyes shut as he surrendered to his smile and tried to crush Angel's hand with his neck.

"It's true~. Because you're just the cutest little thing alive! Er, unalive, so to speak," the spider said, feeling encouraged by this reaction, and bringing another hand to scritch in the middle of his side.

Before he could stop it, a giggle escaped from Husk's mouth. Mortified, he then clamped his jaw shut, holding any more upcoming laughs in.

"You don't have to pretend for me, baby. It's just us here," said Angel, now bringing all three sets of arms into the mix. One pair was tracing his sides, another scritching either sides of his neck, and the last drumming their fingers torturously over his belly.

The giggles rose back up again, and this time shutting his mouth wasn't keeping them at bay. If he weren't so stubborn, he might've given in by now. But it was just too embarrassing.

Husk clapped his paws over his mouth, and while it did (partially) succeed in quieting his laughter, it didn't do anything to remedy the tickly sensations now all over his torso. He twitched and quivered under the touch, but with Angel hovering over him, it didn't leave much room for reprieve.

"This looks like it really tickles. I'm sure you'd feel better if you let all those laugh out!" Angel encouraged, "Pleeeeeease? For me? For yourself?"

Still, he didn't budge.

"Okay. I didn't wanna have to do this, but you've left me with no otha' options." Angel took one hand that was scratching his chin and took both of Husk's paws in it, holding them above the cat's head.

The effect was gradual.

At first, you couldn't hear a peep. Then, over a matter of seconds, Husk's giggles began to bubble up once more, fighting their way to the surface, and tickling him from the inside out.

It was over. Before long, there was nothing between the loving attacker and the melodic sound he adored so much. It started out deeper and huskier, much like his normal speaking voice, but with each passing moment, it grew higher in pitch; the kind of laugh he reserved only for his softer moments with Angel.

The spider took this as a sign to continue and deepened the pressure of all of his appendages, digging into the jittery muscles.

Husk couldn't even recognize himself anymore. He sounded nothing like the bitter old drunk he normally was. In its place, was a goofy little lovesick fool who laughed like no one in the world could hear him. He guffawed and chortled and cackled with reckless abandon.

"There it itihis! There's that gorgeous laughter!" Said Angel. "For a moment there, I thought you was bout to explode!"

The compliment somehow made everything worse. The helplessness of the situation was still there, the feeling of being small, but it was... different. Like he was small enough to be held in someone's palm and protected from all harm. It felt safe.

Husk's cheeks began to burn red.

Hopefully, Angel would be too distracted to notice.

"Aw baaabe! Are you blushin'?!"

Fuck.

As if on cue, his cheeks burned brighter.

"Am I making you feel flustered~? Does it make it tickle more?"

"WOHOHOULD YOU SHUHUT UHUHUP?!"

"So it does. Hmm," Angel hummed as he started moving his hands faster and faster up and down his body. Up his sides, then down his sides, up his tummy, then down his tummy.

It was maddening.

It was tortuous.

It was wonderful.

If Heaven didn't feel like this, he didn't want it. If salvation didn't give him the same amount of relief and safety and joy that playing with his lover gave, then it wasn't worth it. He'd stay in this inferno of hell forever if it meant he could stay with Angel. Stay in this moment.

The demon in question kept on with his teases.

"Who's the cutest little thing~?" Angel cooed as he noticed Husk jump when he touched the lowest portion of his belly, "Ohoho, looks like someone's ticklish! Coochie coochie coooo~!"

Just when Husk thought he couldn't laugh any harder, he did.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA YOU FUHUHUCKING PRIHIHICK HAHAHA!" Husk snorted.

"Oho my gosh! You sound just like Fat Nuggets!" Angel chortled.

Husk's laughter was beginning to go silent, and started getting wheezier. This, Angel knew, meant it was time to stop.

"Alright, doll, I think you've had enough," Angel said as he released his prisoner.

As the spider removed his hands from his body, Husk started panting and giggling hysterically, still feeling the phantom sensations on his skin.

"Need some help there?" Angel offered, moving his hands back towards the other's belly.

Husk curled away from his hands, "Dohohon't!"

"I'm not gonna tickle ya, I swear! I'm just gonna get the leftover tickles to go away. Okay?"

Husk nodded hesitantly and revealed his stomach to him.

Angel's hands met his fur, and although it did jump at first, the firm pressure and massaging motions rubbed away the remaining tickles, just like he said it would.

"Dahamn. That really works." Husk breathed.

"Right? Now do you feel better?"

"Yeah," Husk sat up as Angel gave him room, "You know, for such a compliant gentleman, you sure do know how to take charge."

Angel swiveled to Husk with his mouth agape. "I can be a boss when I wanna be!"

"Heh. Sure, power bottom."

Angel reached for Husk's right foot (or paw) and skittered one set of fingers over it.

"NonononONONOHOHO! I'M SORRY, I TAKE IT BACK! I tahahake it bahahack! Hehehehe!"

"Uh huh. That's what I thought," Angel stopped and huffed with a wink, nothing but kind love behind his eyes, "So. You ready for bed?"

"After all that laughing? Hell yes I am. I might even sleep through tomorrow." Husk said tiredly.

Angel chuckled, sidling up behind Husk and gently cacooning his arms around him again.

"This okay?"

Husk sighed.

"It's perfect."

-------

Wooh! That was a rollercoaster! 😅 Hope the people that wanted lee!husk enjoyed this fic 🫶

[lunajay33]

Innocent🥀

Summary: Reader is part of the inner circle and Rhysands younger sister, you grew up with them and grew to be best friends with Cassian, when you decide one day to ask him about your feelings things change

Pairing: Cassian x f!reader

Warning: Explicit topics, smut

•Masterlist•

Growing up with the three bat boys was never boring to say, they always made every situation a time to remember, I’m only a few years younger that’s Rhys but he always made sure to protect me, away from hurt, from men’s advances, from a lot of things but now I’m grown and I’m starting to question some things

Going out to bars with the group of see the others talking to people, seeing Mor leave with some random person was the first time I questioned things

“Rhys where is she going? Does she know that woman?”

“Don’t worry about it little star she’s fine” I felt a little unsettled feeling there was something more to it but realized I’d never get the answers I needed from my big brother who’s sheltered me so much

As the years grew on I felt lonely like something was missing, it was late at night and I found myself sat out in the living room the fire blazing in front of me, my mind swirling with thoughts

“Hey my angel what’re you doing up so late?” Cass asked as he emerged from his room coming to cuddle up next to me like usual, my head resting on his chest

“I’m just confused, I over heard Feyre and Mor talking the other day and I feel like I’m missing out on something”

“And what did you hear?” He asked running his hand up and down my arm

I sat up turning to look at him

“Well Mor said something like she’s never been eaten out so good she saw stars but what does that mean Cas?” His eyes shot wide he was frozen like a statue

“Cas what’s wrong?” I asked worried placing my hand on his cheek

“You….you don’t know what that means?” He asked bewildered

“No I don’t and then Feyre said riding Rhys was so much fun and I want to have fun can I ride you?” He choked at my statement but I don’t know why

“Angel you don’t know what you’re asking me”

“So please tell me, you’re my best friend I love you, but Rhys as sheltered and protected me so much I’m missing out of something please cas” I pleaded bringing out my puppy eyes

“God you know I can’t resist those eyes *sigh* okay I’ll teach you everything but it’s gonna be a shock, still can’t believe you don’t know any of this, come on your first lesson starts now” he said taking my hand and leading me back to his room

I sat on his bed sitting across from him excited to finally get some answers

“So the best way to do this is probably you ask me questions and I’ll answer them the best I can”

“Okay! So what was Mor saying what is getting eaten out, is it like getting taken out to a restaurant?” His smiled widened I could tell he was trying not to laugh

“No Angel it’s when a sexual partner basically makes out with your lady bits”

“What’s a sexual partner?”

“Oh wow we have a lot to go over”

“But why would someone want another’s mouth on their nether regions?” Everything started to feel a little embarrasing how much I didn’t know

“It makes a woman feel really good”

“Can we try?” And in that moment something in my chest warmed and felt like I was finally connected to something and Cas seemed to look the same way as he rubbed his chest

“After all these centuries this had to be the moment to find out we are mates” he smiled brushing my hair back his thumb running against my lower lip

“My mate, what does that change between us though?”

“It means we’re partners for the rest of our days, I’m yours you have my heart and soul and you’re mine” he seemed the happiest I’ve ever seen

“Does this mean we are sexual partners? Can we try things?” I ask excited

“We can try anything you want but let’s go slow okay?”

“Okay, what can we start with”

“I’ve got a good idea for a little angel like you” he repositioned us so he was sat up against the head board in nothing but his boxers showing off his glorious body, and I’m sat atop him both legs spread on either side of his hips in nothing but my dark red nightie and matching panties

“You ready my love?” He asked gripping my hips and I placed my hands against his chest

“Yes please I’ve been waiting so long to know what this is all about, I’m glad it’s you showing me Cas” his expression softens as he placed a gentle kiss to my lips

“I’ve got ya angel” he guided me down till I was fully sat ontop of him feeling harder than I thought

“What’s so harder?”

“It’s my cock Angel, hard just for you” he started guiding my hips back and forth and it felt different it felt good then a shock of pleasure shot through my pussy making me jump

“Woah, what was that” he laughed loving this experience

“Did it feel good baby?”

“Yeah I want to feel it again, can I keep going?”

“God yes do whatever you want with me” he said sliding his big hands down to my thighs, I started rocking back and forth more by myself bewildered by that feeling I started to buck faster and faster making noises I’ve never made come out of me probably too loud for night time but the pleasure was too good I didn’t care

“Keep going Angel you’re close”

“Cas it feels so good what’s that feeling oh mother above I think I’m gonna…..should I stop?”

“No I’ve got you you’re going to cum my love, fuck you feel so good”

His words were foreign to me but then something snapped in my lower belly and I screamed out and the overwhelming pleasure that coursed through me leaving me and a haze slumping over rest my head on his shoulder

“Woah, I can’t believe I’ve been missing out on that for so long”

“How do you feel?” He asked stroking my back

“Really good, I feel so relaxed, what was that called?”

“You just dry humped it’s just that top of the ice berg angel, if you think that felt good get ready” his words made me excited wanting nothing more than to explore everything with him

“Come on let’s get you cleaned up and to sleep”

The next day I woke up in Cassians bed feel the most best rested I have in a long time, stretching I turned feeling the bed was cold next to me making my heart drop for a moment before I realized Cassian would never just leave for no reason he would never hurt me and I could feel that deep in my chest, I hopped out of bed in a pair of cassians boxers which were big around my hips having to hold them in place and my red silk night bralette, the pleasure of last night still coursing through me and I wanted to try more so I wander through the halls till I heard his voice coming from Mors room

“Cas there you are!” I sigh in relief as I stood in the door way, both turning to me shocked by my appearance, never really showing this much skin out around the house

“Looks like you had a great night” Mor smirked

“I did best sleep ever” I smiled

“Sorry I wasn’t there when you awoke, I just needed to talk to mor, he said stepping closer to place a gentle kiss to the top of my head

“Sorry if I interrupted I can go” I stated realizing I could have interrupted an important conversation

“No Angel we were just finishing anyways”

“Oh perfect can you come eat me out now, is it good mor I heard you talking about it before” I said and they both stood there trying not to explode in laughter

“Oh honey you’re gonna love it now go one you two love birds” she said laughing as she pushed us both out of her room

“Did I say something wrong?” I asked once we were alone in his room again

“No my love it’s just when it comes to sexual topics people usually keep it to their partner or when they talk and need advice from friends, most don’t say stuff like that around others but you didn’t know so no need to feel embarrassed” he said crawling up on the bed hovering over me his voice going deeper

“Okay im still learning, can i pleasure you in any way Cas?” He smirked as he started pulling down the boxers that hung on my hips

“For now pleasuring you pleasures me, hearing you moaning my name drives me made, showing you all this gets me off now how about I show you what’s been plaguing your thoughts”

“Please” I moaned my heart beating fast swelling with more love for him, I always had stronger feelings for him growing up and now I know why

He threw the boxers off the bed as he spread my legs groaning as he stared for a long time at my pussy making me want to cover myself

“Don’t cover yourself mother above look at you and you’re all mine, let me get a taste” he littered kisses and bites down my inner thigh until his mouth hovered just above me his hot breath fanning me making me grind my hips up wanting me

“So impatient”

“Cas please it hurts please help me”

“Fuck I love you” he groaned as his lips finally connected with my hot throbbing core, his tongue dragging and flicking, his lips sucking, my head in a blur even better than dry humping

“Oh Cassian so good I never want you to stop” I screamed gripping his hair as I grind against his mouth feeling that familiar pressure build until my vision turned white and my body went limp, slowly I came back to reality cassians mouth shiny and wet, sitting up I notice the spot under my was soaked

“Oh what’s all this?”

“Came pretty hard Angel soaked me, squirt all over the place and it’s really fucking hot”

“I could have your mouth on my all day long you feel so good, I love you Cassian”

“I love you more Angel”

We both cleaned up getting ready for the day

“Should we tell the others that we’re mates is that appropriate to talk to others about”

“Of course, everyone should be down at the breakfast table anyways let’s go meet them” he said taking my hand as we walked down catching everyone’s attention I was just nervous of Rhys’ reaction then I felt a wave of calm through the tether from Cassian, squeezing his hand

“What is this little star?” Rhys stated standing up

“Cassian he’s my mate” hearing a gasp from Feyre, Azriels eyes widen

“What? And when did you find this out” I looked up at cas not wanting to say what the situation was that led to us realizing we are mates

“She’s my best friend man, we had a late night and it just clicked”

“Was that all the screaming I heard” Rhys groaned in anger

“Rhys stop you’re embarrassing me, did you think you could shelter me from this forever” his expression softened

“I was just trying to protect you”

“I know and I appreciate that you know I do but I’m so behind now I don’t know anything I feel like a bad mate to Cas because I can’t bring things to the relationship like he can”

“Angel you’re so much more than that you’re loving and caring, you’ve had my heart from the day I laid my eyes on you, I told you we’ll take this slow never feel like you’re not enough for me because you’re more than I ever imagined I’d have” he said kissing my hand as his other brushed my cheek

“Ugh I guess I will just live with this, come on love birds let’s have our family breakfast” Rhys said smiling as things went back to normal

I’m going to make this a series if you’re interested in being in the taglist comment!!

[missblissy]

Domestic Astarion x Reader HCs

A/N: UwU just wanted to add to the married life headcanons after the events of the game. Fluffy good stuff below. GN!Tav, no class/race. Enjoy!

Some days always started better than others. But that’s only to say because someone didn’t need as much sleep as you, and had a life time left to learn new skills. One of them being cooking. Sure Astarion can’t taste and it’s a useless skill to him. But you? He would do anything for you. And that includes learning to cook for the sheer simple act of spoiling you with a warm and home made breakfast in bed.

It’s strange to say you two never had a wedding. That’s not to say you two weren’t married. “Oh…?” Astarion isn’t sure how to explain this when someone asks, “Well, you see, my darling little love here found this-” He holds up his hand and wiggles the ring in his finger, “On a rotting old skeleton then found the matching one, get this, on another smelly corpse!” Most people wouldn’t look fondly on something like that. But no, Astarion wasn’t most people. He’d smile and swoon, “And I suppose since then we’ve been married,”

It doesn’t help that back then when you did find those rings, you quite literally told him, “We’re married now,” As a joke. It wasn’t joke….

Astarion has a habit of leaving you poems to find in the most hidden of places. Like little lost treasures. Or maybe he just knows the looting demon you are at heart with your little grabby fingers going for anything they can touch. So it always comes to a surprise to you when you open a book and a poem written years ago flutters out… but the love and truth still rings pure despite the yellowing of the pages.

Crimson sons, vermillion daughters. Quivering maroon, burgundy, cardinal. Short fainting strokes Fester a broken carotid Free from feathers Unbound By the serpent's head no more.

His way of saying thank you for everything you've ever given him. And then some. No matter the message you cherished each treasured poem you would find.

The man had a knack for spoiling you, unconditionally, and most importantly, endlessly. If you saw something out in a shop that caught you eye, but you were just to stubborn to get it for yourself. Surprise, surprise when you get home and find it there with a man beaming proud like a puppy with his bone.

But that didn’t mean affection was off the table either. Astarion spoiled you with kisses, big ones, little ones, some on the back of your hand as he opened a door for you. Others on your cheek, gently but with sorrow as he left for some few weeks for whatever reason. He had his own things to do and sometimes you couldn’t go with him. But that just meant when he got home you could throw your arms around him, breathe him in and share the long awaited kiss of his return.

Married life strangely suited you both, from the little grabbing of hands under tables, the protective placement of an arm, the look of pride when the other did something extraordinary. And Astarion would always be the more boastful in pride when it came to talking about you.

And he couldn’t help but show off, sure he’s loud and arrogant about it. Saying he was best option of course, no one else stood a chance… blah blah blah. But when no one was around he can look you in the eye and practically grovel, “I am so lucky you chose me,”

There were many other things that came with the long life of being married together. The two of you were quite dedicated to learning to… dance. Astarion hadn’t a clue wether his left foot was right, and you may have been no better. It was your idea really. You heart would swoon watching other couples and with an eager voice you pointed a finger and declared, “I want to do that too!”

And so you did, but behind the close doors of your own home. Seeing as Astarion didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of so many people. Where you both could trip and side step and laugh, giggle and make the most out of learning something new together.

It seemed the two of you had a habit of learning things together. From silly little drawings, to paintings, perhaps an instrument or two. You both always found a way to share your hobbies and passions together.

And it was the mornings, where these happened most often. Naturally Astarion couldn’t be in the sun but that didn’t stop him from enjoying what little light he could. You’d find him in the dusty dusk right before the sun actually broke the horizon.

He had been teaching himself to play the piano, so to wake up in the morning and not hear the soft echos of keys down the halls would be a bad sign. It’d be another bad sign if you didn’t sit down beside him, stroking the keys as the two of you played a song that was always in the process of being made and never done.

Surely soon he’d go off to sleep, sharing kisses and affection. You wouldn’t see him again until the evening, when the sun was starting it decent. Day-phobia was real in vampires no matter how much they loved the sun and he didn’t have a worm anymore to help him fight that. But he managed, enjoying every sun rise and sun set he got to see just as the world of night came and went.

Despite staying up all night sometimes just to be beside him, it was fairly often that Astarion would have to nag you to go to sleep. You’d barely have even one eye open, drifting back and forth between dreams and you’d still tell him, “I’m not tired, I’m just resting my eyes,” All because he was up late in kitchen and you didn’t want to leave his side.

He often compromises though, making deals and barters, “If I go upstairs with you, will you go to sleep?”

“…” Surely you aren’t going to say no? “Will you be the big spoon?”

“Of course,” How could he say no to a face like yours? And such a sleepy one too?

He didn’t mind, not really. Some nights he’d stay in bed with you until the morning. Even though nothing would get done, or things he had planned were set aside, he wouldn’t sleep either, he truly really didn’t mind. He could lay there for eternity holding you close and be at peace.

[cinnajun]

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: 365 days | pgw

summary | the first year of your relationship with park gunwook, quantified by 12 separate events.

genre | park gunwook x fem!reader, high school!au, very slice of life, fluff, angst, y/n is bisexual, roughly 1 month has passed in between every part

warnings | jealousy + attempted sabotage, the horrors of girlhood (insecurity, slight mention of beauty standards, comparison)

wc | 12.7k

a/n: if you listen close enough you can hear me screaming in agony ++ can someone please remind me how to think up ideas that don't require several thousands of words

ft. youngeun and yeseo from kep1, boys planet/redstartz junhyeon, ppl i made up

i. confession

Tears bunch in your eyes as you sit behind your school building, the intensifying heat of spring embracing you like a warm hug. You feel devastated like someone had just stabbed you through the heart and left you to bleed.

“I think you’re overreacting, [First].” Youngeun’s voice is gravelly over the phone yet still uneasy, overall impacted by the sound of her gym class. Yeseo, who’s sitting next to you, hummed, although you weren’t sure if she was agreeing with Youngeun or not. “I mean, is it so bad he knows? It was bound to happen, probably.”

“Well, no, it wasn’t,” you stuttered, trying to keep the urge to sob and scream at bay. “And, to be fair, that’s not what I’m worried about. I’m worried about what else Yukyung was telling people without me knowing.”

Youngeun begins to speak but doesn’t get more out than a squeak, and you can almost imagine her opening and closing her mouth in an instant. Yeseo picks up the slack, saying, “Well, it’s worse to assume than to deal with the facts. Yukyung, for whatever reason, told Gunwook about your crush on him and showed him the texts, and it’s getting out among our classmates. In my opinion, there’s one course of action you should take.”

“Which is?”

“Youngeun tells Gunwook that you want to talk to him after school, and then you talk to him after school.”

You groaned audibly and Youngeun gasped, presumably in horror. You stared at her in exasperation, letting a single tear fall down your face. Yeseo wiped it off with her cardigan’s sleeve, frowning at you. “I mean, the worst that could happen is that he doesn’t feel the same way and you feel embarrassed for a couple of months. And we all unfriended Yukyung pretty much instantly, so she won’t be around anymore.”

“Doesn’t matter, still happened,” you replied. “I don’t want to see him ever again. I’d rather die than see him again.”

Yeseo put a hand on your back, while Youngeun yelped at the sound of a basketball hitting the closet she was hiding in. “I’ll ask him, and you’re gonna do it, [First]. You can’t skip a week of school during the first week of school.”

“Who said I was going to skip?”

“Every time you’re minorly embarrassed by something you skip school,” Yeseo said, looking at you like you were insane. “Like that one time you got a bad score on our math midterms during our first year and the teacher asked you what happened in front of everyone, so you skipped 2 days and sulked in your room.”

“That was warranted,” Youngeun commented, which caused Yeseo to glare at the phone. “But! Not the point. For all you know, Gunwook could like you back, and you’ll be able to say you had a boyfriend in high school. Right?”

“The chances of that are incredibly low,” you whined, drawing your knees up to your chest and burying your head in between them. “We’ve barely even talked. We just sit kind of next to each other during our cram classes, and that’s it.”

“He could be delusional too!”

“Are you calling me delusional?”

“The bell is about to ring,” Yeseo cut in, grabbing your phone out of your hands. You immediately popped out of your fetal position, reaching for it as quickly as you could. “Youngeun, leave the supply closet and ask him, please. Pick a location and text the groupchat. [First] and I have to go back to the classroom so we don’t get in trouble for skipping our study block.”

With that, she hung up and left you to your devices. The day passed agonizingly slowly after that, and you found yourself struggling to focus on anything your teacher said. At some point during your study block, Yukyung had left, leaving you alone at your desk with no seatmate to annoy or watch (not that you wanted her there, anyway) for the day. That was likely out of embarrassment, too, as now your classmates, who generally liked you, weren’t as sure on how to deal with the newfound information.

The only other thing worth noting was that, during your 5-minute break in between classes, Yeseo told your homeroom teacher what happened and she approved you switching hers and Yukyung’s desks after school, but, other than that, you felt your sanity whittling away by the minute.

Youngeun had haphazardly chosen a tree behind the gym, typically reserved for successful confessions, because she’d been staring at it out the window as she talked to Gunwook (which she described as the scariest conversation of her life) and didn’t know where else would work.

According to her, he’d blushed as she asked, accepting on the pretense that it wouldn’t take long because he promised his older brother that he’d get dinner with him that night. Initially, you lamented over the fact that you wouldn’t have anyone to stare at during your after-school classes, but it quickly dawned on you that he thought you were going to confess to him (which was true—you were going to confess to him).

Then, when you got done with class for the day, one of your classmates—Gyuvin—hit you on the shoulder on the way out with a quick “good luck!”

It took Yeseo dragging you to the gym and offering you $20 and a free fun drink afterward for you to get used to the idea you were doing this, and about another 3 minutes of you panicking at her in a hushed whisper while she told you to get over yourself. Then, Youngeun sprinted over, panting and still half in her gym clothes.

“You didn’t change after gym?”

“Not the focus! You’re actively making him wait!” she choked out, apparently exhausted from her mad dash. You rolled your eyes, dropping your bag down next to them and taking a deep breath.

“If I throw up on him, I’m going to kill you.”

With that, you began your death march to the tree, where Gunwook stood, scrolling through his phone. The sight of him made your stomach explode with butterflies, which you tried to shut down given your (supposed) fate of rejection. You were mentally preparing yourself to be in turmoil for the next few days, but deep down, all you wanted was to rewind time to when you told Yukyung about your silly, little crush and stop it from ever happening.

Your crush on Gunwook was never meant to go anywhere but your brain, and now you were walking up to him, about to pour out feelings that were half-manufactured by Yukyung convincing there was a future that would come with them.

“Hi,” you managed, causing Gunwook to spin around and shove his phone in his pocket.

“Hi,” he replied, scratching his neck as if he was unsure what to do with his hands. “Um, how are you?”

It was a stupid question, and you could tell he knew that. Of course you wouldn’t be doing well—one of your best friends told the entire world (him, and then one of his friends leaked it to the rest of the school) your entire life story (a single crush).

“Could be better.”

“Yeah.”

You looked off to the side, seeing Gyuvin and Junhyeon, who you knew were close to him, watching from a second-story window in the school building. You tried to ignore it, but you knew you’d hyperfocus on it now.

“Look, I’m sorry,” you finally breathed out, twiddling your thumbs. “Yukyung—I don’t know what to say that you don’t already know. I guess I have a bit of a crush on you. Sorry.”

“Sorry? Why are you sorry?” he asked, sounding genuinely perplexed. You looked back up at him, shrugging.

“Well, it’s weird. We don’t really know each other, and then a girl you don’t know very well is suddenly telling you that I’m head over heels for you.”

“You’re not?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it that way, no. Just a crush. Not much else.”

You thought there would be a weight off your shoulders once you managed to say it to his face, but it was, quite literally, the opposite. Your stomach was tightening up and your throat was closing, but you didn’t move, just staring him in the face.

“So it would be awkward if I professed my undying love for you right now.”

You flinched at that, frowning. “That was kind of mean.”

Gunwook’s face dropped when you said that, and he shook his head rapidly. “No, not—I wasn’t making fun of you, I swear. I promise. It was a bad way of saying I have a crush on you too. Sorry. Uncalled for. Didn’t mean it.”

The words fell from his mouth like an avalanche, and all you could do was stare at him in awe. “Wait, really? Why?”

“Why? I don’t know. We spend a lot of time together, even if we don’t talk often,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “We were in the same class for our first year, then we started at the same cram school, and now we sit near each other. You’re entertaining to watch when you’re taking notes.”

“You stare at me in class?” you asked, genuinely shocked at his admission. You thought you stared at him enough during the same classes that it was impossible he could’ve been doing the same thing. Apparently, he was good at catching you when you weren’t watching his every move. “Creep.”

“Like you don’t? If I’m a creep, what are you? You’re way worse than I am,” he replied. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. What now?”

You tapped your chin, looking back over at the window Gyuvin and Junhyeon had been in. They were gone now, presumably to meet Gunwook when your conversation was over. “We could try being a ‘thing.’”

“A thing?”

“I don’t think we know each other well enough for like—I don’t know, for me to call you boyfriend,” you replied. “So we can just be a ‘thing.’ No strings attached! And we can go on a date or two. Maybe.”

“A date or two? Whereabouts?”

You smiled, and he did too; you were shocked at how well he managed to goad information out of you. You tended to say things but never follow up on them, not unless you were pestered over and over again—it had taken Yeseo nearly a year to get it down.

“Do you like the zoo? Recently, I’ve been wanting to go to the zoo. They have a new baby bear—cub?—that I wanna see. Perhaps on Sunday? Are you free then?”

“I might be free on Sunday,” he said, handing his phone out of his pocket. He unlocked it, pressing a couple of buttons before handing it to you with an empty contact screen open. “How about we talk about it later? I’m late for meeting my brother.”

You typed in your name and number, sending yourself a quick text so you’d be able to initiate if you felt he didn’t text you fast enough. “Sounds good to me. I’ll see you later. Tell your brother I said hello.”

“Okay, sounds good,” Gunwook chuckled. He reached out and ruffled your hair, giving you a wide, bright smile that could’ve overpowered the sun if he tried hard enough. “I’ll see you later, so we can start our ‘thing.’”

“Yup, bye-bye. See you tomorrow.”

ii. lunchtime

You and Gunwook, mostly on purpose, don’t spend a lot of time together at school. Sometimes, you say hi and smile at him when you walk into his classroom to grab Youngeun, but, other than that, you keep it separate.

For one thing, it makes it easier to keep it “no strings attached,” as you’d proclaimed the day Yukyung briefly ruined your life, but it also was somewhat fun for you and him to not address what happened. Thanks to Gyuvin, half—if not all—of your grade had heard about it, and someone had spotted the both of you under that god-forsaken tree, but you hadn’t said a thing.

For you two, it was like nothing had happened, and, for everyone else, it was like a bomb they were just hoping would go off. It was fun—like you were living out a cliche, teen drama.

So, when Gunwook sauntered into your classroom in the middle of your lunch period, proudly holding a bottle of special juice you briefly talked about wanting, you were somewhat shocked. For the most part, you weren’t mentally prepped to interact with him during the day, especially as Yukyung watched on with her new couple of friends from the corner of the room.

You, Youngeun, and Yeseo stared at him as he approached, Gyuvin following close behind. He put the drink down in front of you, a proud smile on his face. “Look,” he said, gesturing towards it, so you looked. It was a brand of juice—they advertised it as a “smoothie,” but it was just slightly thicker juice—that you’d enjoyed a lot on a trip to the United States that you’d gone on a while back.

You hadn’t seen it once in Korea, even after taking Yeseo with you to search for it for hours. “Where in the world did you get this?” you spluttered out, picking it up. It was chilled, too, as if he’d been keeping it in a refrigerator (or, an insulated lunch box with an ice pack in it).

“He didn’t,” Gyuvin snorted, putting an arm around Gunwook’s shoulder. “Junhyeon did while he was in Busan this weekend.”

Gunwook hit him hard on the chest, clearing his throat. “Do you like it? Are you excited?”

“The right flavor and everything,” you replied, a surge of joy running through you. “Thank Junhyeon for me, okay?”

Gunwook scoffed, mumbling, “It’s not like I didn’t pay him back twice the price or anything,” under his breath. You held up your fist, to which Gunwook stared at it, somewhat dumbfounded.

“What?”

“You want a fist bump from me?” he asked incredulously. You nodded, exaggerating the movements to make it seem like he was missing the obvious. So, he bumped your fist with his, shaking his head. “See you after school, [First].”

“Yup, I’ll see you.”

And you watched him walk out, Gyuvin in tow—and, from the corner of your eye, you saw Yukyung watching his every move, up until he left the classroom.

iii. field trip

The third-year field trip was something you’d looked forward to for a long time—as a way to force students to take a break from their studying, your school sent all the first years to some fun location, paying for most of it with donations they got from alumni and parents.

This year, they’d had the bright idea to send you all to Hawaii, which had been both shocking and exciting. The farthest they’d ever sent anyone was Jeju, and that was a few years ago; but, they’d got some huge donation this year and decided to splurge.

So far, the trip had been fun, for the most part. On the airplane, you’d forced Gunwook to sit next to you so that you could hold his hand every time the plane shook (he’d laughed at you over your fear of turbulence, but you were too aware of the fact that he was rubbing your hand with his thumb to care). Almost all of your classmates, to whom you had not disclosed the nature of your “thing” yet, had stared at you every time they walked past. About halfway through, Youngeun, who’d volunteered to be the third wheel, leaned over and told you she was pretty sure the news was making its way down the plane, and people were getting up to fact-check it for the row members.

“That’s stupid,” Gunwook laughed, pulling your hand onto his tray table. “Doesn’t everyone know [First] is just afraid of planes? Nothing else going on here, not at all.”

Then Yeseo had popped her head above her seat and turned around to face you, an eyebrow raised. “Have you two kissed yet?” she’d asked out of nowhere, to which you shrugged.

“Why would we kiss when nothing is going on?”

Then, upon arrival, you and Gunwook had sat next to one another on the bus to the hotel, to which you’d promptly fallen asleep on his shoulder (since you didn’t sleep much on the plane) for the entire ride. You woke up to him holding your hand again, scrolling through his phone haphazardly.

After that, you’d had all eyes on the both of you—when you got to the hotel, while you were listening to your teachers give instructions, while keys were being handed out. And, as a result of what you assumed was anxiety over not knowing English, Gunwook and his two friends, Junhyeon and Gyuvin, followed you, Yeseo, and Youngeun around for the entire trip.

Then, on the third day of the trip, Gunwook asked if you’d want to go on a date with him. The idea was silly to you—not because you didn’t want to, but because you were two teenagers going on a date on your almost-all-expenses-paid trip to Hawaii.

That’s what you were doing now. It was the day before you were to head back home, and Gunwook had, for lack of a better word, taken you out. To a fancy restaurant—where he made you translate the entire menu and order for him—and to get some sort of fancy pineapple dessert afterward. Now, you were strolling on the beach, watching the sun fall below the horizon slowly but surely.

“How much longer until curfew?” you asked, turning around to face him. You continued walking backward, lacing your hands together behind your back.

“About half an hour. We’re close enough to the hotel that we don’t have to start walking back now, but we should think about it soon.”

You hummed, stopping abruptly. You faced the shoreline, listening to the sound of the waves draw in and out like breaths from a sleeping person. It was so alive, yet not at the same time, and it mesmerized you; you’d never seen an ocean like this before.

“You look pretty tonight,” he mused, staring at you rather than the ocean. You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the comment.

“Look at yourself in the mirror.”

“I’m not pretty, I’m beautiful, thank you very much.”

A question was bubbling up in your throat now, much like the water in front of you. You felt a surge of anxiety wash through your stomach, and you were mentally transported back to that tree from a couple of months ago. The pure embarrassment you felt was gone and replaced with a sort of hope that was more painful than uplifting, as if it was a glass cup teetering on the edge of a table.

“I have a question,” you started, banishing the unease from your stomach.

“Oh, yeah?” he asked, raising his eyebrow. He wouldn’t look away from you, no matter how much you tried to focus on the sight in front of you. A crooked smile bloomed on his face which should’ve quelled your worries in an instant, but, for some reason, it only made them worse. “I suppose I have an answer for you.”

“Do you?”

“I just might, if you manage to ask the question.”

“Okay, here I go,” you said, mustering up all your courage and turning to face him. His eyes sparkled in the sunlight, and you immediately felt discouraged just looking at him. He was right—he was beautiful, almost impossibly so. Yet, here you were, boring and average, barely even able to hold a T to him. Plus, the only reason you were even here was because someone you’d considered a best friend had told him you liked him, and now you were getting into your head over something that was long over.

His smile dropped a bit when he (most likely) realized you were panicking a bit, but he didn’t say anything, simply waiting patiently for you to continue. You forced yourself to regain focus, shaking your head as the image of Yukyung permeated in your mind. He grabbed both of your hands as a way to help soothe the worry, and it worked as well as it could, pulling you back into reality.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend, maybe?” you finally asked, watching as his face lit up against the sun.

“Do I?” he asked back, allowing himself to smile fully. “This is the best question I’ve ever been asked. Seriously.”

“Seriously?”

Gunwook giggled, swinging your hands around a bit. “Can I kiss you? Pretty please?”

“Can you?” you mimicked, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks. Gunwook giggled again, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips. It was slow and sweet, his lips soft and tasting slightly of the pineapple you’d had earlier. He laughed and smiled through the entire thing, squeezing your hands in delight before letting go and wrapping his hands around your waist. As cliche as it was, you draped your hands around his neck, starting to giggle too.

When he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours, still chuckling in delight. “This is so exciting,” he said, rocking you back and forth on the sand. “I’m so excited. I feel like I’ve been waiting for this for my entire life, you know? Even if I’ve only known you for three years. I can’t explain it—it’s unexplainable. I’m so excited.”

“You know what, I’m getting the idea you might be excited.”

And Gunwook shut you up with another elated kiss, ending your night in an impenetrable wall of pure joy.

iv. sleepover

Your parents were adventurers and you decidedly weren’t, which often meant you had your house to yourself. It was nice, mostly because it allowed you to spread out all your study stuff on the dining room table and do all of your work right then and there without your parents talking to you every 20 seconds.

Sometimes, though, things didn’t go as planned, and you had to do things you didn’t want to do. Namely, spend the night in the house completely alone. Every creak or thump made your heart beat out of your chest, which ended up in you taking a knife and a flashlight through the entire house with the emergency number pre-dialed.

Oftentimes, it ended with you not sleeping and then having to miss school because of over-exhaustion.

You were sitting in your living room while on the phone with Gunwook (he claimed you were moral support for his studying) when your mom texted you, the message starting with a bunch of emojis, which was her way of beginning a message with bad news.

“Oh god,” you said, cutting through the hour-long silence you’d maintained with your boyfriend.

“Huh? What’s up?”

“My mom texted me. There’s some huge accident on the freeway, so they’ve got the entire thing blocked off. Traffic is awful on other routes so they’re just going to pull off to a motel and sleep there tonight.”

“Oh no,” he said, and you could tell he was preoccupied with whatever math problem he was doing. “House to yourself, I guess?”

“I’m glad it’s Saturday,” you said, frowning. “I’m not gonna get any sleep tonight.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like being completely alone in the house. I’m convinced someone’s gonna come in and kill me.”

“Hmm,” Gunwook hummed, pausing briefly. “I could come over and stay the night? I’ll leave early in the morning so they don’t find out I was there.”

Realistically, you knew you should say no because the chance of your parents finding out about Gunwook terrified you, but you had poor judgment and liked your boyfriend too much to turn down seeing him. “Would you actually? It’s kind of late, and I wouldn’t want to make you walk that much in the dark.”

“It’s not that far of a walk,” he said, and you could hear him packing his school stuff already. The sound of pencils clinking against pencils and books closing made you feel all warm and fuzzy—instead of studying for the test that was going to decide his fate as an adult, he was coming to make sure you felt comfortable and safe.

“Oh yeah, because 30 minutes is ‘not that far.’ Just get it over with and tell me you’re in love with me.”

Gunwook cleared his throat at your quip, choking on air. You snickered, finding how flustered he got at the “L-word” quite cute (as if you wouldn’t do the same thing). “I’ll be there shortly.”

He hung up the phone without saying bye, most likely out of embarrassment, which made you feel proud of yourself. And, true to his word, he showed up about fifty minutes later, balancing his school backpack on one arm and another bag on the other. “Do you know how hard it is to jump out of your window with two bags?” he asked, walking into your house as if it was his own. You wondered if he cared about the fact that he’d never actually been inside before, given he’d only ever walked you home, but you assumed his unwillingness to do his usual hello-and-hug meant he was somewhat flustered by it.

“Are you moving in, or something? What’s in the bags?”

“Well, I can’t stay the night without all my nighttime stuff,” he huffed, breezing past you and dropping his bags off next to the stairs. You watched him look around frantically, and you somewhat assumed that he’d hung up on you because he’d realized what exactly he had suggested and had no way of backing out of it now (you hoped he hadn’t even thought about backing out).

“You’re such a diva,” you scoffed, shuffling back into your living room and returning to your position on the couch. He sat next to you, leaning against the armrest and putting his legs on top of yours. You rolled your eyes, picking up the remote and pressing play.

“So, what are we watching?”

“Whatever romcom was playing when I turned the TV on,” you replied, keeping your focus on the screen. Suddenly you were feeling embarrassed even though you’d been feeling so egotistical a second ago, as you were realizing you were in more danger here than he was. He’d successfully snuck out (or so he said, but you were pretty sure he probably told his mom and then snuck out the window to avoid his dad finding out), but your parents lived here, and if they got here before you were expecting them, it was over for you.

It dawned on you that you needed to find out when they were planning on getting back, so you wrenched your phone out of your pocket, furiously typing to your mother. Gunwook noticed, pointing at you and laughing. “You were so high and mighty a second ago, and now look at you. Somebody realized they’re going to be in bigger shit than I am.”

“Shut your mouth,” you hissed, watching the little bubble that indicated your mom was typing.

“Maybe we should send her a selfie, huh? Just so she knows a random teenage boy that she doesn’t know is in her house,” Gunwook continued, sucking all of the confidence you’d once had out of the air. “She’d be super excited, right?”

“If you’re not out of my house by 5:30 tomorrow morning, I’m going to break up with you,” you announced, glaring at him. He made a face at you, shaking his head.

“Be glad I like you so much. Waking up at 5:30 is brutal. I didn’t even do that when Gyuvin got his appendix out and texted me thirty times to ask if I’d be there when he got out of surgery.”

“You liar, Gyuvin literally told me that you showed up with flowers and a get-well-soon card.”

Gunwook blushed at that, clearing his throat. “Okay, whatever, fine. Let’s just watch the movie.”

The two of you got about twenty minutes of the romcom in before he checked the time and announced that you were both going to sleep. You said he could go on his own—midnight was early for both of you, and you weren’t the one waking up at 5:30—but he got all whiney, turning the TV off and picking you up from the couch.

You’d gone through the motions of your nighttime routine together, with Gunwook’s being about fifty steps longer than yours. You ended up sitting on the floor while he put on a million serums and waited thirty minutes in between each one, claiming it was to “let each product soak into his skin.”

You texted Youngeun and Yeseo about it, not thinking about the implications behind waiting for him to finish his skincare routine. Immediately, they began blowing up your phone, and you promptly muted your group chat and their individual text threads, not wanting to deal with the onslaught of questions they were likely unleashing onto you.

Then, you looked up to see Gunwook putting on a lip mask. Knowing it was probably the last step in his routine, you hopped up from the floor, staring at the small, pink container that the gel lived in. “Oh, I’ve always wanted to try that out,” you said, not thinking about it too hard. “Is it nice? Does it work?”

“Shouldn’t you know better than anyone whether it works or not?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You slapped him hard on the shoulder, causing him to yelp in pain. “Okay, geez, yes, it works. Do you want to try some?”

“Oh, can I—”

Before you could even finish your sentence, Gunwook leaned down and kissed you somewhat hard, almost causing you to stumble back a bit. Either way, you almost immediately broke it off, incredibly flustered at the act. You slapped him again, although this time it was a million times weaker. “You’re so stupid, oh my god, you cliche loser.”

“Be grateful I was willing to give you any, this stuff is expensive,” Gunwook said, cackling. He put a bit more on his finger, rubbing it into his lips to compensate for what he lost from kissing you. “I thought you liked kissing me, no?”

“I also like the thought of you getting hit by a train. These things aren’t mutually exclusive,” you huffed, looking to the side. “Whatever. I’m going to my room.”

“Ooh, me too,” he said, draping an arm around your shoulders as you walked past him. He kept himself in step with you, flicking the bathroom light switch off as you both exited the room.

“Who said we’re sleeping in the same room?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. Gunwook laughed in your face, causing you to frown.

“Okay, sure, but one noise and you’ll be prancing into the guest room like a scared dog.” “Who said I had a guest room? Go to the couch.” You wiggled out from under his arm, opening the door to your bedroom and flicking the lights on. Gunwook continued following after you, but quickly walked past you and climbed under the duvet on your bed. Somehow, he’d already plugged his phone in and put his bags neatly in the corner of your room—it must’ve been when he walked out to grab his toner pads from his bag—and had settled into your bedroom quite nicely. You stared at him in awe as he yawned, patting the bed next to him.

“It’s bedtime.”

“For you.”

He laughed at you again, patting the bed once more. You shut your bedroom door behind you, turning your phone’s flashlight on and turning the lights off as soon as they’d come on. You shuffled over to the bed, sliding in next to him and cuddling up to him. He reciprocated, putting an arm on your waist and giggling.

“You giggle too much.”

“Good night, [First]. I won’t wake you up tomorrow morning, but I’ll be out by 5:30. Promise.”

Even though you weren’t tired, you fell asleep like a baby next to Gunwook, basking in the warmth he brought. You were pretty sure you’d fallen asleep before him, actually, but you swore up and down it was because he’d been humming to you and rubbing your back in a way that was more relaxing than you would’ve liked it to be.

So, when you woke up the next morning, the sun barely peeking through your curtains, to find him gone, you felt relief. You groaned, turning over to search for your phone, which was, as always, placed on your bedside table.

You picked it up, barely being able to make out the time—5:01 am. Huh, you thought, frowning. He left earlier than he needed.

And then you looked at your notifications—three texts from your mother.

2:34 am—Hi honey, the motel was uncomfortable and we couldn’t sleep, so we’re getting an early start. I know you get paranoid, and I hope you’re not awake, but texting to let you know just in case you are. Should be there about 4:30.

3:47 am—Update, we’ve hit some early traffic, so probably closer to 4:45. It might still be 4:30 if we’re lucky.

Finally, 4:11 am—We got lucky!!! We’ll be there in 10. Assuming you’re asleep…am glad. Can’t wait to be in my own bed.

You shot up from your bed, suddenly feeling more awake than you’d ever been in your life. With what little sunlight there was, you looked to the corner of the room, clearly seeing two black bags that didn’t belong to you. Then, an extra phone on your nightstand.

Panic set in. You, as quietly as you could, got out of bed, shuffling to the door. With a hand haphazardly placed on the knob, you pulled your door open, cringing at even the slightest of noises. You heard the sound of a glass hitting your table downstairs, and you felt like crying.

Slowly, you tiptoed down the stairs, catching sight of Gunwook, blue sweater on and exhaustion written on his face, sitting across from both of your parents. Breakfast was ready on the table, and Gunwook had a full plate in front of him, but it had barely been touched.

He noticed you first, looking up at you from the table. He looked violently uncomfortable, pleading for you to come save him, and you just about turned around and went back to your room.

“[First],” your dad said, turning his head to look at you. “Why don’t you come join us? I suppose you have a few things to explain.”

v. ice cream

You loved summer for a multitude of reasons—the lack of school, the increase in fun treats, and the overall happiness that came upon everyone during your one month off of responsibility. So, when you caught wind of a fair opening up, you knew you couldn’t pass up going.

Your first invites were Yeseo and Youngeun, since the three of you always spent your summers at amusement parks and pop-ups. But, they’d had the bright idea to invite along your boyfriend and his couple of friends—it would be okay, they said, since there’s three of you and three of them. So, you did, and you were entirely grateful that you had.

You didn’t know Gyuvin or Junhyeon very well before today; Gyuvin tended to follow Gunwook around, and Junhyeon had bought you juice once upon a time, but that was about it. It was the same for Gunwook and your couple of friends, as the most they’d interacted with him was on your plane ride to Hawaii.

Seeing your friends getting along with his warmed your heart, and it had put together a day you would never forget, most likely. About twenty minutes ago, your four accompaniments had made up some excuse as to why they needed to separate from the two of you, which had left you strolling through the fair as the sun was beginning to set.

The sky had erupted into a million different colors, namely pinks and purples, which you were particularly enamored by. You’d endearingly linked your arm with Gunwook’s and you’d been walking through the local artist alley that they’d put up.

“I’m glad it’s cooling down,” you said, staring at a booth where a woman was showing off all of her handmade jewelry pieces, which you found to be quite impressive. “As much fun as a fair is, it always sucks when it’s too hot to enjoy.”

“It wasn’t that hot today, though, was it?” he replied. “I mean, it got warm around 3, but that was just about it. I thought today was relatively tame compared to the rest of the week.”

“Okay, Fireboy, whatever you say. But, for the record, tame compared to the rest of the week doesn’t mean much when it was nearly 35° the other day,” you scoffed. Gunwook chuckled, and you looked over at him, intending on continuing to talk about the heat. But, a booth behind him caught your eye, distracting you from whatever you were planning on saying next.

You unlocked your arm from his, smiling mischievously at him. “Wait here,” you said excitedly, pulling your wallet out of your tote bag. You quickly walked over to the ice cream booth that you’d seen in the distance, the thought of how cold it would be tainting your mind. Even just a little bit of freedom from the heat was enough to sweep you off your feet, at this point.

“What would you like?” the server asked, to which you smiled at her, staring at the menu.

“Um, just two vanilla cones, please,” you said, realizing you had no clue what flavor of ice cream he’d even want. You hoped he didn’t have a terrible disdain for vanilla, but you doubted he did, given you’d never seen him actively dislike any food in your life. You got the amount of money it cost out of your wallet and placed it on the counter, shoving your wallet back in your bag.

The server handed them to you, and you thanked her, turning back around to hobble back to where you’d left Gunwook. And, as you did, you were met with quite possibly the worst sight in the world—he stood off to the side of the jewelry booth talking to someone. Namely, he was talking to Yukyung.

Of course she would be here—before she’d broken your trust, she tagged along on your summer adventures. She was your best friend once upon a time, and now, she was not much other than a bad memory, and she was talking to your boyfriend.

You didn’t know how to describe the feeling it evoked. It wasn’t jealousy—you knew what jealousy felt like, and this was too mellow and depressing to be jealousy. Yukyung looked gorgeous, as she always did, dressed in a pretty, flowy, red sundress that just barely brushed against the tops of her shoes. Her makeup was perfect and rosy to match the dress, and she’d braided white ribbon into her hair, which you thought made her look even more elegant than she had before.

Oh, you thought, biting your lip. This is inadequacy.

You watched them talk, and you watched the way she smiled and the way he seemed uncomfortable just from the way he stood. For a brief moment, you thought they even looked a bit good together, but that thought was quickly washed away when you felt ice cream drip onto your finger.

When you looked back up, she was gone, and Gunwook had gone back to lingering. You shook your head, jogging up to him with a smile. “Happy summer,” you said, handing it out to him. He smiled back at you, taking the ice cream cone from your hand.

“Thank you,” he said, taking a big bite straight from the top. You widened your eyes in shock and your face distorted into one of disgust.

“You bite ice cream?”

“And what about it? Do you have a problem with it?”

“Yeah, actually, I do. That’s weird and strange.”

“You know what else is weird and strange?”

“Huh?”

“The fact that you’re letting your ice cream melt all over your hand.”

vi. overwhelmed

You’re wondering how long you can get away with staying in the bathroom before someone notices that you’ve been gone for much longer than you were expecting. You hug your knees to your chest, playing a mindless game in hopes it’ll calm you down at least somewhat.

You knew this would happen at some point—every upperclassman you’d talked to told you that, in the months approaching your college entrance exams, your mental health would plummet. From panic attacks in the bathroom during math classes to not being able to fall asleep until four in the morning.

You just underestimated how much it sucked to feel like this in the first place. You’re no stranger to stress, that much is certain, but this was much more real. And, this sort of panic hit you anywhere and everywhere—including Gyuvin’s birthday party.

Briefly, you glanced at the time—8:02. You’d been in the bathroom for about 10 minutes, and nobody had come looking for you yet, which was good. The bad news was that you weren’t any closer to calming down and were feeling utterly helpless.

As if you’d jinxed yourself, Gunwook texted you at that very moment, asking where you’d gone. You half-assed your reply, saying you were still in the bathroom taking a break from the chaos, ignoring the temptation to ask him to come help you. It would be mean to Gyuvin and him—so, for the sake of your sanity, you’d stay quiet.

Meanwhile, Gunwook stood in one of Gyuvin’s hallways, staring at his phone. Junhyeon had followed him back as Gyuvin was well entertained by Ricky, who he hadn’t seen in nearly a year, and stood next to him, leaning against the wall.

“Things have been weird lately.” Gunwook frowned, reading over your text again and again. Junhyeon tilted his head inquisitively.

“Weird how?”

“Just…I don’t know, she’s been weirdly distant from time to time. Everything will be fine, and she’ll shut off with no warning. It happens no matter where we are, too—if we’re studying, if we’re walking home, if we’re eating dinner. It’s strange.”

“Could it just be test jitters? I know a lot of couples who broke up in anticipation of the test, with plans to get back together afterward. Like Yuna and Jaechan, in class 4. They did that.”

Gunwook’s frown deepend. “I don’t want to break up with her, though,” he sighed, watching as the typing bubble on your end appeared and disappeared. “Would it be weird to look for her? Like would she find that strange?”

“She probably walked off because she didn’t want to take you away from Gyuvin, but Ricky’s here now, so I don’t think it would be a bad idea, per se,” Junhyeon said, patting his shoulder. “But make sure she doesn’t feel bad taking you away from everything. I think Gyuvin would understand. And Ricky wants to meet her, so no harm in making sure nothing’s wrong.”

Gunwook bit the edge of his lip, shoving his phone into his pocket. Gunwook gave Junhyeon a pat on the shoulder, and he nodded, walking back toward the bulk of the party.

The bathroom was behind a bed sheet curtain that Gyuvin had hung up before the party, with a lame “do not enter” sign taped to it. He’d proceeded to give you, Gunwook, and Junhyeon special permission to break the rules, as the three of you had been in the house before and knew which rooms were okay to enter and which ones weren’t.

The door was closed and the light was on, which meant you’d gone out of your way to go to the off-limits bathroom, where Yeseo and Youngeun wouldn’t be able to find you. He frowned, raising his hand to knock on the door.

Then, he heard a small sniffle behind the door and stopped. Gunwook had never seen you cry—early into your relationship, you’d told him you weren’t a crier, and not many things pushed you to that point. At the time, it had been relieving, as he didn’t know you well enough to even attempt to comfort you.

But, now a good three months had passed, and he still had no clue what to do, which made him feel more stressed than relieved. Nevertheless, now that he knew, he couldn’t just leave you, so he knocked on the door.

Your response was, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Gunwook took that as an invitation to open the door, finding you sitting on the floor of Gyuvin’s bathroom while holding your phone. You weren’t crying, but he could tell you were close to it. He slipped inside, closing the door behind him, and sitting next to you on the ground.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, scooting closer to you so you’d be shoulder-to-shoulder. You shrugged, looking off to the side.

“I’m stressed. You know, with the college entrance exams and graduating stuff, the world is just a lot right now. I didn’t think it would hit here, though, but the number 18 being passed around made me think about it too much. It’s silly.”

“No, it’s not,” Gunwook replied. “It’s okay to be stressed out about something stressful, even if you’re at a birthday party. And it’s okay to tell me because Gyuvin’s friend came to surprise him after he moved to California, so he’s not upset that I’m gone. Okay?”

Your lip quivered a bit, and Gunwook put his arm around you, pressing you into his side. He rubbed your shoulder reassuringly as you sniffled again, obviously having to try harder to keep your feelings in.

At that moment, you wanted to spew everything at him. Your feelings of insecurity towards Yukyung, the stress you felt knowing he was going to get into some fancy university and you probably weren’t, how scary everything was right at this moment.

But, you stayed quiet and chose to burst into tears instead. The moment one tear escaped from your eye, the rest did, too, and you found yourself crying into Gunwook’s chest. He was rocking you back and forth, rubbing your back while you covered his shirt in your tears.

You felt miserable—if you could, you wanted to pause time, run outside, and scream. At what, you were unsure, but you needed it, more than you needed anything else in the entire world. You could only take this for so much longer.

“I’m here for you,” Gunwook whispered, squeezing you gently. “I’ll always be here, I promise.”

You took his words to heart.

vii. wisdom teeth

On day four of Gunwook’s wisdom-teeth recovery, you’d been asked to be his caregiver, which you were okay with. His mom, who was infinitely grateful that you’d offered to take care of her son, assured you that he was technically cleared to go back to normal after day 3, but he was still feeling a bit wonky, and his pain medicine enhanced the wonkiness.

Your jobs were as such: make soup or mashed potatoes when he asked, remind him to clean his wounds if he forgets, and hang out with him. You found the list quite easy and told his mom that you’d make sure he was all good and cared for.

You underestimated, however, how needy your boyfriend would be. The moment you’d walked into his bedroom to wake him up, he attached himself to you, whining about how much he’d missed you over the past few days. He spoke as if you’d gone off to war and left him behind with your nonexistent children, insisting that your absence had ruined his life.

After you managed to make him brush his teeth, spray salt water into his mouth, and eat his breakfast (a bowl of yogurt), he passed out on the couch, leaving you to do whatever seemed appealing at the moment. Initially, you spent your time scrolling through all the selfies he’d sent you of his face all swollen and puffy, which had got you giggling. Then, you had the bright idea to help 

You started by slightly cleaning his room up, feeling pretty good about yourself as you washed his clothes and his sheets. In your mind, you were building a resume to ensure his mom liked you, and you were going to earn extra affection from it, so you didn’t care about the repetitiveness at all.

About halfway through your cleaning adventures, Gunwook appeared in the doorway of his bedroom, staring at you folding the load of laundry you did. “How are you?” you asked, continuing to fold his t-shirts.

“Have I ever told you that you’re perfect?” he mumbled, shuffling over and draping himself onto you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and shoved his face into your neck, nearly knocking you over by putting his entire weight on you without warning.

“Only every day,” you replied, giggling. “Seriously though, how are you? Anything feel off or more painful than it did before you napped?”

“No,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your neck. “Stop sounding like my mom. It’s weird.”

“What do you want me to say? ‘I hope you get dry socket?’”

“It’s better than mom-speak,” he replied. “She’s going to love you after today. Not gonna shut up about it.”

“That’s the entire reason that I’m doing all of this.”

“And not to help out your hurting boyfriend? You’re terrible.”

You scoffed, finishing folding the rest of his clothes. “Are you hungry?”

You patted his arm and Gunwook unattached himself from you, letting you turn around to face him. He rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. “No. I’m so glad you’re here. I missed you a lot.”

“Did you?”

“My mom said I cried about you being at school right after I got out of surgery,” he replied. You widened your eyes, not expecting him to be that forward about it. “I don’t like being away from you for so long. I hope we never, ever separate.”

You smiled, half-heartedly punching him in the shoulder. “I hope you stay this nice even after you feel fully better.”

Gunwook gave you a serious look as if he was thinking hard about something. You waited awkwardly, staring at one another as he sounded out whatever he was thinking in his head. “Over the past few days, I’ve been thinking a lot about something.”

“Which is…?”

“I’m going to say something,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders. “I’m not expecting a reply. I just need to say it. I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“Okay, go on ahead. I’m listening.”

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as if whatever he was going to tell you was stressing him out. It made you get a bit anxious, wondering if he was going to break some terrible news to you. “Over the past couple of days, I’ve missed you a lot, more than I missed Gyuvin and Junhyeon combined. And it was hard only being able to talk to you through texting, even though I only text my friends for days on end sometimes. And it got me thinking about everything, you know? Because it’s all I’ve had to entertain myself since I got my teeth pulled.”

“Right.”

“I love you, [First]. A lot. And it’s okay if you’re not ready to say that yet, I get it. But I do. Truthfully. I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”

It felt like a rock was stuck in your throat. You opened your mouth expecting words to come out, but they didn’t—so, you just stood there, staring at Gunwook. He stared back at you, eyes glossy from tiredness and cheeks pink. You weren’t ready—the words were so big and so scary, and it wasn’t that you didn’t love him, you just couldn’t find the words to say it.

Your solution to this was to engulf him in a hug, latching to his waist like you’d done a second ago. No words were needed as he did the same, and, for a while, you stood there, enjoying one another’s company.

viii. mirrors

You don’t remember the last time you’ve felt this gross when looking into a mirror. The dress you’re wearing is gorgeous—it’s long, flowy, and summery, the type of dress that doesn’t look bad on anyone. Yet, staring at yourself right now, you feel utterly disgusting.

It’s the same type of dress you saw Yukyung wearing at the fair, and, when you look at yourself, all you can do is compare yourself to her. Even when you were best friends, this was a problem you had, but it wasn’t nearly as awful when she made you feel safe and loved. Now, it felt threatening and nauseating.

Gunwook knocked on the door of your dressing room, causing you to wince. “[First], are you done? Can I see?”

“Yeah, sure. One second.”

You quickly retied the bow around your waist, hoping it would make you feel a little less awful. It didn’t have the intended effect, but you turned around anyway, opening the door to the dressing room. Gunwook’s expression bloomed into a smile the moment he saw you, but, instead of feeling loved, you only remembered the way he looked at Yukyung with slight disdain at the fair while she wore the same thing.

“You look so beautiful,” he said, which caused you to subconsciously frown. He noticed immediately, his smile morphing into a frown to mirror you. “What’s wrong? Do you not like it?”

You turned around, staring at yourself in the mirror once more. “I don’t feel pretty in it,” you said, trying to be as upfront with your emotions as you could. You saw Gunwook’s jaw drop in his reflection in the mirror as if he couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“How in the world could you not feel pretty? It fits you perfectly, and it’s entirely on theme for your cousin’s wedding. You look gorgeous, I swear. Everyone would agree with me.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, hoping and praying that, if he said it for a third time, the image of Yukyung in your mind would miraculously go away. He nodded earnestly, making the most serious look you’d ever seen him produce.

“One thousand percent. And I’m not just saying it because I’m your boyfriend, I mean it. You look beautiful, and every other synonym of beautiful. I’m serious.”

You nodded, fabricating a smile so you could take it off and put your sweater back on. “Okay, I’ll get it then. I’m sure my mom will agree.”

You shut the dressing room door, fighting the urge to slam your head into the mirror. You just pulled the dress off of you, replacing it with your normal clothes and putting it back on the hanger, swiftly exiting the room so you’d no longer be facing the mirror.

After that, you’d tried to escape the mall as quickly as you could, dragging Gunwook through the corridors like you were on a mission. He’d followed without saying anything, but you could tell he was somewhat confused—and you hoped that confusion would go away when you arrived at the bus stop just as it arrived.

Gunwook knew you better than that, though, shooting you multiple inquisitive looks for the duration of your bus ride. And, the moment you got off, he whistled a small tune, which was a clear sign that he was going to bring it up.

“So, what’s up?”

“What do you mean?” You feigned ignorance, hoping he’d get the message and leave it alone. He wouldn’t, though, and it was now a question of whether he meant today only, or why you’d been acting so strange over the past month or so.

“You’ve been acting weird for a while, [First]. Not all the time, just sometimes, and it has me worried. Did I do something? Or is there something you aren’t telling me?”

“I’m just on edge,” you lied, clearing your throat. “Exams are next month. I don’t like the idea that a single test could dictate the rest of my life, and the idea that, if I do poorly, I have to spend another year studying for it.”

“Are you sure that’s it? You seem fine every time we’re studying, and your grades are good. You don’t ask for nearly as much help as you did a few months ago either.”

“I promise. Things will go back to normal next month, I swear.”

“Okay.”

Great, you thought, kicking a rock on the sidewalk. He knew you were lying, and now you had one month to fix your ex-best-friend troubles before you had to face your issues. And, you had no idea how.

You kicked the rock again, and it flew out in the street, falling into a storm drain, never to be seen again.

ix. exams

Before today, you didn’t think your hands could hurt this bad. Nor did you think your brain could hurt this bad, either.

The moment you walked into Gunwook’s room, you drop everything you’re holding, face-planting into his bed. He laughed at you, and you could hear him neatly placing everything he was holding onto his desk.

“How can you unpack things right now?” you asked, mentally praising whoever created mattresses. “I feel like my brain is short-circuiting.”

“I’m good at school stuff, that’s why,” he replied. Outside, the rain that you’d dealt with walking to his house got worse, and you briefly considered the possibility that you wouldn’t be returning home tonight unless one of your parents were willing to drive to Gunwook’s house. “Do you want something else to wear? Other than your uniform.”

“Really?” you asked, hopping out of his bed. He nodded, opening his drawer and taking out a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants.

“They’ll probably be a little big,” he said, handing them to you. You waved him off, shaking your head.

“They’re not this god-awful uniform, so they’re winners in my book.”

You practically skipped out of his room and into the bathroom, changing into the pajamas he’d given you hastily. They were soft and smelled like the detergent his mom bought (which smelled exactly like you thought Gunwook would smell, back when you just had a delusional crush on him).

Before you went back to his room, you folded your uniform, giving yourself a once over in the mirror. You looked exhausted and you felt it too, overloaded from the hours of straight testing that you’d endured for the sole purpose of going to university. You were so tired you couldn’t even muster the strength to be worried about your test scores.

You shuffled back into Gunwook’s room, shutting the door behind you. He was already laying down, scrolling through his phone and wearing the black-and-white sweater he’d been so obsessed with recently. You put your uniform on top of your bag, which he’d moved to a chair in the corner of his room, before collapsing on top of him and forcing your hands around his waist.

The act caused him to laugh at you before ruffling your hair, kissing you atop the crown of your head. “I’m proud of you,” he said, and you felt his chest rumble as he talked. “I’m sure you did well.”

“Stop being sappy,” you replied, suddenly feeling a lot more tired than you had been. “But I’m proud of you too. I know you did well.”

He hummed, and you assumed he went back to scrolling through his phone, which you weren’t angry about. You had about five minutes before you fell asleep on him, and you were fine spending it in complete silence save for whatever random thought you had.

“Oh, did you see the Yuna-Jaechan reunion? It was, like, dramatic. He gave her some super expensive necklace or something.”

“I didn’t see it, but I heard about it. Junhyeon hasn’t shut up about it. He thinks it’s hilarious.”

“If we’d done the CSAT breakup, would you have bought me a super expensive necklace?”

“We wouldn’t have, but I would’ve bought you the most expensive necklace ever. With Gyuvin’s money.”

“Aw, how romantic.”

It went quiet again, and you felt yourself fading quickly. The rhythmic up-and-down of Gunwook’s chest paired with the rain pitter-pattering against the window was putting you to sleep with ease, to the point where you could barely keep your eyes open.

And then a bright flash and near-immediate thunder awoke you instantly, causing you to flinch hard. Gunwook laughed at you instantly, causing you to feel embarrassed.

“Oh, is someone afraid of thunder?”

“No,” you huffed, closing your eyes again. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Okay, whatever you say. But that jump was pretty intense. I almost thought you were convulsing, was scared that the test had killed you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Good night, [First]. Sleep well.”

Now aware that you were enduring a thunderstorm, the booming noise that came with the rain only added to your sleepiness. Within minutes, you were almost completely asleep, barely able to register when Gunwook laughed at something on his phone or shifted slightly.

“I love you,” he whispered, putting a single hand on your waist. With that, you were asleep and entirely dead to the world for the next few hours.

x. gossip

You didn’t like the way Youngeun was looking at you. She couldn’t keep secrets—it was obvious she knew something, but you couldn’t figure out what exactly she could know.

Yeseo, on the other hand, seemed completely fine, even if Youngeun kept giving her worried glances. She simply drank her juice, mixing her noodles around with seemingly no intent to actually eat them. It was silent at your table, the sun beating down on you as you sat outside the 7/11 you’d all agreed to go to after school that day.

“What is up with you two?” you finally asked, frustrated with whatever was happening. Youngeun winced and Yeseo put her drink down, balancing her chopsticks on top of her bowl of ramen. It was silent for a few moments, and you felt anxiety eating you up.

“There’s a rumor going around,” Youngeun blurted out, causing you to tilt your head. Yeseo crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair.

“It’s not a big rumor. It’s small and contained, and it shouldn’t get much bigger, but we don’t want you to hear it from someone random, or to overhear it when you don’t mean to. We don’t think it’s true, but you deserve to know.”

“Okay, just tell me. I don’t need this huge build-up.”

“There’s a small group, and I mean small group, that think Yukyung and Gunwook are dating behind your back.”

You went quiet, feeling your heart drop into your stomach. Realistically, you knew it wasn’t true—from the way Gunwook talked to you to the way he looked at you, there was no possible way that this was true. The part of you that was borderline traumatized by her sudden switch up on you believed it in an instant, though.

“Do they have any proof?”

“Apparently, they see her talking to him a lot. I mean, she doesn’t hang out in your classroom often, ‘cause her new friends are in mine and Gunwook’s class. And, to be fair, they aren’t wrong, she does talk to him a lot, but he doesn’t like it. It wouldn’t shock me if she’s trying to get him to break up with you, but they’re not dating,” Youngeun said, suddenly sounding a lot angrier than she did before. “I’ve seen him shoot her down several times. But people take it the wrong way, I guess.”

“Long story short, don’t believe it, [First]. We both know it’s not true and if you start hearing it from other people, ignore it. Okay?”

Like the world was playing an awful, cruel joke on you, your phone started ringing, and one look confirmed your suspicions. You picked up, hearing Gunwook’s voice come through, clear as day. “Do you want to see a movie tomorrow?” he asked, skipping over the greeting. Intrusively, you thought, would he go with her, too? “I’ll pay. It’s a showing of a Ghibli movie that Yujin said was good.”

“Sure,” you said, feeling Youngeun’s and Yeseo’s eyes burning through you, as if to say don’t you dare overreact about this. “What time?”

You were going to overreact about it anyway, though. You couldn’t do this, at least not with Yukyung—or, at least the thought of her—breathing over your shoulder at every moment. She meant too much to you that your mind was racing through every single thought you’d had over the past few months.

She was your best friend, and you’re pretty sure that, before Gunwook came into the picture, you were in love with her. You spent hours upon hours with her, and now you spend hours looking through the old pictures that you refuse to delete. You’re stuck on her—not in love with her anymore, but yearning for a friendship you lost—and it’s getting in the way of your relationship, and your mind concludes that there’s one viable outcome.

And, now, you have an excuse to carry it out.

xi. her

You don’t have the time to knock on Gunwook’s door before he throws it open. He hugs you immediately, picking you up and spinning you around right there in his doorway, and, for a minute, your mind is clear of all the terrible things that you’ve been trapped with for the past month.

“We did it,” he cried out, putting you back down so he could see your face. “We did it! Oh my god, how could we not have done it? We were always going to get in.”

About twenty minutes ago, both you and Gunwook received an email from Seoul National University that you’d gotten in. After you’d cried for four hours over your good CSAT scores, you nearly passed out at this news, wondering in what world you had deserved this. And, among your caving-in mind over Gunwook and Yukyung, you’d immediately left your house and ran to Gunwook’s.

He cupped your face in his hands, planting a kiss on your lips in utter joy. You laughed, feeling immensely happy for the both of you.

You tripped over your feet as you walked into his house, kicking off your shoes and emerging into his living room. “I never thought this would happen,” you said, pacing around the room. Gunwook watched you from behind the couch, smiling. “I mean, for the last month, I’ve just—I haven’t caught a break. I’ve been miserable every waking moment and now I finally have something to be happy over. Can you believe that?”

You look at him, and you watch his smile drop. You backpedal over what you said, realizing that you’d let your little secret slip; since Youngeun and Yeseo had told you about the rumor, you’d done an excellent job at hiding your panic, acting like everything was fine when it wasn’t in the slightest.

“What do you mean you’ve been miserable?”

You stopped pacing, and the room went quiet. In an instant, you’d knocked the happiness out of the room and brought in everything you’d been avoiding. The breakup plan you’d thought of night after night flashed in your mind, along with Yeseo telling you that you were an idiot for even considering it.

“I don’t know where this came from,” he continued, his voice a bit tight. “But I was under the impression everything was okay. We took the test and you looked better—why wouldn’t you tell me you were miserable?”

You weren’t sure what to say. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you felt nauseated, no longer feeling the excitement of the college acceptance you’d yearned for since you were a kid. “It’s stupid,” you said, your voice small. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll get over it.”

“I don’t know if you understand how that sounds to me,” he said, and you were getting the idea that he also had an issue that he hadn’t been talking about, either. “But we’ve spent a lot of time together over the last month, and you saying that you’ve been miserable the entire time sounds a lot like you saying you were miserable being with me.”

“What? No, that’s not what I meant.” You shook your head, feeling mortified at the idea. “I promise, that’s not it. It has nothing to do with you.”

“Then why won't you tell me? I don’t think I’m entitled to hear anything from you that you don’t want to talk about, but when it’s been torturing you for months, [First], I feel like I deserve to know. Especially since it seems like Youngeun and Yeseo haven’t gotten any of the side effects.”

You bit your lip, closing your eyes. “You know Yukyung was my best friend, right?” Even saying it aloud made tears bunch into your eyes. For the first time since nearly a year ago, now, you were facing something you hadn’t even talked about with your mom. “Like, best friend. We’ve been—we were friends from our first year of middle school. She was my everything. And she threw it all away over—over you, and it’s been hard for me to stomach it.”

Gunwook rolled up his sleeves, leaning on the couch. “That happened in March,” he said, almost sounding frustrated. You knew it wasn’t directed at you, rather, he was probably angry that Yukyung had any say in your relationship even though you’d never even spoken about her.

“It killed me, Gunwook. I didn’t sleep well for a week. I mean, she was telling people things I told her in middle school, running around and painting a picture of me that I didn’t know she had.” You felt exasperated, unsure of how to convey what you needed to without sharing a secret you’d never shared with anyone. “It was hard for me. Even though I was happy about us, I couldn’t get over losing her like that with no warning. And then, I saw her talking to you at the fair, and then Yeseo and Youngeun told me about the rumors, and—”

“Rumors?” he interjected, furrowing his eyebrows. “What rumors?”

“People think you’re cheating on me,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. That seemed to confuse Gunwook, as he looked down, staring at the couch rather than looking at you. “It’s just hard, okay? It’s hard.”

“And you couldn’t have told me you felt like this? It didn’t cross your mind, even for a second, to just be honest?”

“Well why didn’t you tell me that she’s been talking to you at every chance she gets?” you rebutted. That caused him to wince, and you watched him realize that he couldn’t say much, either. “It’s not like we’re both innocent, here. So let’s get it over with. Now.”

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” Gunwook said, pushing off the couch and mirroring your stance. “Gyuvin brought it up during our second year before we knew each other. It didn’t cross my mind again until I saw you staring at her when I came in to give you your calculator back. And then—it’s been months and you haven’t said you loved me.”

Every muscle in your body tensed, and it, once again, occurred to you that you could never pull anything over on Gunwook.

“Are you in love with her?”

You gulped, your throat suddenly feeling drier than it ever had. “I was. A long time ago.”

It went silent again, and you wondered if he believed you. “I promise you it’s in the past. It was only during my first year and some of my second, but I got over it when she started dating Seungeon. And they lasted long enough for me to get over it, and we added Youngeun to the mix, so I was preoccupied. That’s in the past. But it doesn’t change that she threw out five years of our friendship without a second thought.”

He didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes, beginning to pace back and forth. You let him think, hoping that your defense was sound enough that he wouldn’t break things off then and there.

“Do you love me, [First]?”

Two months ago, Yeseo had asked if you’d said “I love you” yet. You’d, embarrassingly, had to share that Gunwook had but you hadn’t, which perplexed both of them. And, when they asked why, all you’d been able to tell them was that the last person you’d said “I love you” to was Yukyung, the night before Youngeun called you, telling you everything she’d heard.

“Yes,” you said, nodding. “I do. I love you.”

Right in front of you, Gunwook burst into tears, walking straight past the couch and enveloping you in his arms. “I thought you were going to break up with me for so long,” he choked out, squeezing you so hard you could barely breathe. “I was terrified the entire time, and I thought things got better after the exams, but I couldn’t shake the feeling. I was so scared, [First]. I love you so much that I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

“I love you too,” you said, although it was muffled. “I promise. And I didn’t love her as much as I love you.”

xii. graduation

You were realizing that your claim that you didn’t cry often was quickly becoming a lie. You were sitting on the floor of your room, holding your diploma to your chest while tears streamed from your eyes. Gunwook was staring at you with a mixture of amusement and worry as you rocked yourself back and forth.

“Youngeun is leaving me,” you said, hiccuping. “Both of them are. For Japan. I’m going to have to make new friends.”

“But you’ll still be able to talk? They won’t even be in a different timezone.”

“Okay, and?” you said, hiccuping. “It’s so far. I won’t be able to go to 7/11 with them anymore.”

“We can go to 7/11?”

“That’s different, you’re my boyfriend. 7/11 is a commitment when it’s with you.”

“What does that even mean?”

You let out another Earth-shattering sob, and you supposed that convinced Gunwook to come over and attempt to comfort you. “There, there,” he said sarcastically. “Japan is very far. And you’ll have to pay more to call them. I’m sorry.”

“At least try to sound a little serious!”

“Neither Junhyeon nor Gyuvin got into SNU.”

“Okay, but they’re still in Korea, so you’ll be fine. There’s no train to Tokyo here.”

Gunwook wrapped his arm around your shoulder, leaning his head on yours. “It’ll be okay. They’ll be here over breaks and you’ll get to see them then, right? And you always have the—wait, why don’t you have a picture of us framed?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No, I’m serious,” he said, pointing to your dresser, which was right in front of you. On top were multiple framed pictures of the three of you, smiling, laughing, and doing other things. “What’s up with that? Am I less important than them?”

“Shut up.”

“No. I’m going to buy a disposable camera right now, and we’re going to take pictures so you can print and frame them.”

You rolled your eyes, wiping away your tears. “Okay. Whatever you say. Even though you’re my wallpaper, and you’re the only number pinned in my text messages, and you’re the only person who’s ever known the password to my phone.”

“You love me.”

“Not when you’re a greedy loser.”

“Aw, I love you, too.”

thank you for reading !