#what a busy semester lmao

[viatrix-glow]

a producer who loves her knights

[ame-to-ame]

love being nd and have the tism wolf Inside me be so drastically uncomfortable with uncertainty that i physically cannot think about school and having to deal w the unknown of that whole situation without losing 5lbs in 2 days

[marciliedonato]

fuck this thesis shit i want to be a capybara at an onsen surrounded by tangerines what the fuck !

[i-hate-gravel]

there’s always fucking something. isn’t there.

something just has to fucking occur

[kuiinncedes]

🫠

[mattybsgroupie]

help | chris sturniolo

contents: fwb; first time; fingering (f receiving); p in v; use of “y/n”; virgin!reader; soft dom!chris

♡⊹𑄽୧

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ notes: oh maria you said you’d post weekly WELL I LIED. i got pretty busy with college but ! only a few weeks left till the semester is over ♡ finally had the guts to write chris and i think i’m finally ready to admit that i NEED to have sex with him lmao. a bit different from the usual stuff (it's chris being sweet with a sub!virgin!reader) and not proofread as usual, but hope you enjoy ♡

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ requested by: anon

♡⊹𑄽୧

“ma” chris chuckled. when he noticed i wasn’t kidding, his blue eyes suddenly widened in disbelief. “are you serious?” he said in a high-pitched tone.

“well, someone should’ve told me that being a virgin is a crime” i rolled my eyes, closing my fist and playfully punching his shoulder.

“ouch!” chris pretended to be hurt. his brothers were traveling and he couldn’t stay alone with his thoughts for too long, asking me to come over and keep him company.

“i mean” he started, clearing his throat. “it’s not a crime. i just don’t understand how?” i narrowed my eyes and chris knew that meant watch your mouth. “c’mon, you know how hot you are”

“shut up, chris” the corners of my lips gave away how much i enjoyed hearing that.

chris slowly dragged his feet on the wooden floor, coming closer to me. one of his hands stopped by my hips, giving a light squeeze there.

“i’m not kidding” he whispered in a gentle tone, his blue eyes tenderly looking at me. “you’re a virgin, but you know how it works... right?” he raised one of his eyebrows.

i denied with my head, trying to look somewhere else.  “what do you mean? no one ever made you feel good?” chris questioned me again. i sunk my teeth on my bottom lip, refusing to answer him again.

i had never been intimate with any guy, and chris knew it. what amazed him was the fact that i couldn't even make myself cum.

“nah” he said, a smirk appearing on his face “y/n, you never had an orgasm?”

i could feel the sudden heat spreading through my body, the fingers he had pressed against my skin becoming warmer, my cheeks flushed from embarrassment.

“how come a pretty girl like you has never felt good, hm? we gotta change that, don’t you think?” chris said, tucking my hair behind my ear before taking his fingers to my jaw, his thumb gently lifting my chin so i'd look at him.

my heart started beating faster as his grip on me grew tighter. chris leaned in and sealed our lips in a gentle, lingering kiss, full of affection and care.

he pulled away, a silly grin hanging on his mouth. “you had done this before, right?” he teased and i rolled my eyes, letting go of him.

chris pulled me back, wrapping his arm around my waist, this time locking our lips together in a passionate, almost desperate kiss.

“let me make you feel good” he said and i let out a deep sigh, my hands immediately going to his hair, gently pulling his locks. chris moaned and wasn’t planning on holding himself back.

his sounds sent a shiver down my spine and i immediately felt myself getting wet. the grip chris had on my waist grew stronger and our tongues were fighting for dominance until he pulled away, catching his breath. a tiny strand of saliva still connected our lips together, his were swollen and flushed as if we had been making out for hours. 

chris placed both hands on my cheeks, cupping them together before placing delicate kisses across my face. i only noticed chris had been leading me towards his room when my back touched the door, the sound of wood creaking open removing me from my trance.

“you’re such a player, aren’t you?” i chuckled, noticing my situation. i couldn’t run away even if i wanted to, chris’s arms were placed on each side of my shoulders, holding me in place. “how many girls have been here before, huh?”

“you’re the first one” he said, going to my neck and starting to suck my exposed skin, making me gasp from the sudden contact.

“liar” i breathed out, tugging on his hair. chris chuckled and stopped the kisses, his gaze trying to tell me something. “i wouldn’t lie to you” he said, the emotional tone on his voice showing he was being truthful to me and to himself.

“but… you’re not a virgin” i said, placing my palms on his chest and dragging my index over his shirt, drawing circles on the white fabric.

“that doesn’t mean i’m a slut!” chris widened his blue orbs and a fake moan came out of his mouth when i playfully twisted his nipple. “i think you are” i giggled, opening the door and walking into his room. 

i threw myself on the bed, striking a sexy pose. i took off my slippers and crossed my foot over my leg, calling chris with my index finger.

he grinned mischievously, locking the bedroom door and walking towards me. chris was standing in front of me, his legs slightly parted, biting his lower lip. i adjusted my position and raised my palms up to his waistband, teasing him.

“hey, no” chris said, taking my wrists. “this is about you” he started, gently pushing my body against the mattress and crawling on top of me.

“i’m gonna take care of you. i don’t care if i end up cumming in my pants” chris chuckled, his hardened cock showing through the gray fabric.

i simply nodded, my cheeks flushing from the affection and attention. i was aching for him. i could feel my pussy throbbing, the wet patch on my panties growing bigger with each kiss.

chris tugged on the hem of my shirt, silently asking for permission to take it off. he mumbled a small “fuck” while placing his palm underneath the cloth, his large hand pressing against my tummy and making its way upwards. he groped my breasts and with his free hand, removed my shirt. “y/n... god” he whispered, “can i see 'em?” chris asked about my boobs.

“please” i moaned, wrapping my legs around his waist and bringing him closer to me. “just make me feel good, please” i pleaded, tangling my fingers on his brown locks.

“i got you ma” he chuckled at my eagerness. chris placed kisses on my collarbones and reached for my breasts, his sneaky fingers untying my bra and letting them fall free next to his face. chris clenched his jaw, licking his own lips.

“you're so fucking beautiful” he praised, placing a peck in one of my nipples. the gentle act sent a shiver down my spine, making me gasp as he started to carefully lick my hardened nub.

i could feel chris's cock lazily getting dragged against my thigh, his hips moving in a slow, rhythmic pace. he breathed heavily against my skin and each time his tongue circled around my nipple i whined.

i needed more.

“chris” i called him. “i need you— need you so bad”

“i'm right here princess” he whispered, trailing kisses down my torso. “let's go slow, yeah? i promise you're gonna feel so good” he assured me, both indexes playing with the strands of my shorts. i nodded desperately, lifting my hips up and helping him to remove my last piece of clothing.

“shit” chris muttered under his breath. “we’re both so fucking wet” he gazed at my drenched panties and then at his own pants, a wet spot of pre-cum forming on the fabric.

chris brushed two of his fingers over my underwear, nudging my clit. my jaw went slack and my thighs involuntarily attempted to close. chris chuckled lightly, tapping my knees and forcing my legs apart.

he positioned his body in between my thighs and slid down on the mattress, his face resting on my hipbone. he began to fiddle with the seam of my panties, teasing me, as if he was going to pull them off at any moment.

“stop fooling around” i softly spoke, not really mad at him. “but she's so pretty” chris said, dragging his index across the damp fabric and pouting his lips. i giggled, ruffling his hair.

chris's bright blue eyes had a both kind and concerned gaze, and he used his sense of humor to soothe me. “good girl, let me have fun here” he pulled my panties down, leaving me fully exposed.

chris gulped dryly and licked his own lips before placing two digits in between my wet folds, stroking every inch of my pussy. i gave out a deep sigh when his fingers reached me and whimpered when chris began to spread my lower lips.

chris then moved his thumb to my clit, rubbing it in circular motions. my hips instinctively bucked upwards, making me bring my palm to my face and cover my mouth in embarassment.

“don't hide it” he ordered, “i wanna hear you. i wanna hear that you're feeling good, that i'm the only one who makes you feel good”. chris laid down next to me, pulling me near his chest. he locked our lips together as his fingers remained against my pussy, slowly fondling me.

“taking me so well, princess” he whispered, smooching every spot he could reach. “think i can put a finger in? have you done this before?” chris asked, his voice full of concern.

“i… i tried” i confessed, reminding him that i had never gotten all the way to the end. “gonna go real slow f'you” he said, his middle finger slipping down my folds and reaching my entrance. chris pressed my hole and gradually entered me.

when he got all the way in, my jaw was hanging open as i panted heavily and chris kept on praising me, “there you go, such a good girl. it's all in baby, 'm so proud”.

he allowed me to stay like that for a while, getting used to his size, i moved my hips downwards when i was finally ready and chris quickly understood, curling his finger inside my walls and reaching for my sweet spot.

the knot in my lower belly tightned when he found it. “theeeere we go ma” he said, thrusting into me as he massaged my clit.

“chris” i called, desperation taking over me. “i'm f-feeling it— ah! i'm g-gonna—“

“shh, i got you. you wanna cum on my fingers?” he asked, speeding up the pace of his thrusts. “no? where then?”

“your cock, please” i said, not a thought going through my mind. all i cared about was having chris inside me. “fuck, i’m not gonna last long if you keep talking like that”.

“are you sure? we don’t have to do this, y’know” chris said and whined. “no! i want it!”

chris immediately stood up, hovering over me. he removed his pants, cock slapping against his lower belly. chris was huge, the flushed tip leaking pre-cum all the way down his veins. i held my breath nervously when he started to pump his shaft, coating his dick.

“shit, i forgot” chris spoke. “i don't have any condoms here, fuck”

“pull out” i told him and chris widened his eyes. “i'm on the pill, i promise” i chuckled, calming him down as he placed himself in between my legs.

“well, i wouldn't mind putting a baby in you” he spoke and i could feel his swollen, leaking tip rubbing against my lower lips, trying to get in. it wasn't long until my walls were stretched out, fitting chris inside of me. it burned and it hurt like i never felt before, my nails digging on his back as i squeezed my eyes shut, trying to adjust to his size.

chris began to to move his hips cautiously, just enough to make me moan. “fuck fuck fuck” i whimpered as his cock filled me up. i could feel my orgasm approaching, overwhelmed by the new sensation.

“‘m close” i cried, “so close chris fuck!”

“don't hold yourself back princess” he said, encouraging me. his fingers went to my clit, rubbing it quickly. his cock, his words, his fingers — it was all too much. the knot in my lower belly snapped and i felt my body collapsing, my mind going blank as my orgasm washed over me. my whole body trembled as chris held me close, whispering praises at me.

i whined when he removed himself, spurting his cum all over my belly in a loud groan. chris threw himself over me, nuzzling his face against my chest. “i think i’m in love with you” he said. i giggled, playfully pulling his hair “shut the fuck up, chris”.

“thank you for helping me, handsome. it was so much better than i had expected” i thanked him and he gave me a peck “anytime, princess”.

♡⊹𑄽୧

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♡⊹𑄽୧

[bamboozledbird]

Written in the Stars // Stiles Stilinski Imagine

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, fem!reader Pairing: Stiles x Reader, Stiles x You (no use of y/n) Word Count: 5k Tags: fluff, fluff, fluff, i love my men nerdy and desperate, all characters are over 19, my vibe is it's like their sophomore or junior year of college Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, unprotected pnv (terrible advice, babes, don't listen to these idiots)

Request: stiles smut plssss!!! anything fluffy??? A/N: request mixed with a lil bit of an old work to ease me into my first smut. still coming across virginities at 27, and that is really something. s/o to the anon who requested it lmao.

Stiles’s childhood bedroom is an assortment of Star Wars paraphernalia, baseball posters, and bundles of wrinkled flannels squeezed to fit within four faded blue walls. There are a few books stacked on top of his desk, coated in a thin layer of dust from the semester away from home, and little plastic stormtroopers stand at attention on his dresser corners. It smells a little musty in his room, a little like damp earth, but you’ve always liked that smell. You especially like how his cologne smells here—like spice, like fallen leaves, like Christmas morning. 

“The curtains are blackout,” Stiles says. He pulls the heavy navy curtains over the window facing the small backyard. The grass is yellowing from the cold of winter, and the air is crisp with the same bitter chill. You shiver and burrow further into the sweatshirt you’d somehow commandeered long before you and Stiles were a we. A few flecks of dust float off the plaid bedding when he sits down on his bed. He looks up at you and grins at the sleeves hanging limply below your fingers, “Flip off the light.” 

You turn off the light and shut the door. It’s dark inside the room now—almost completely black. What little remains of the sun is gone, and now you can only see the glow-in-the-dark stars sticky-tacked to the ceiling. “You must have taken a lot of people up here,” you hum, grinning at him coyly over your shoulder. You’re not quite sure if he can make out the glint in your eyes under the pale fluorescent glow, but you’d like to think he can. Either way, you’re sure he knows.

Stiles laughs easily and scoots himself down to the edge of his bed, “Why?”

“For kissing,” you say, matter-of-factly, but you’re still grinning. You make your way towards him, and your prowl is far less smooth than you’d like it to be—the piles of books and a couple month’s worth of dirty laundry make an already difficult path downright hazardous. You count it as a win when you end up in his lap without tripping on anything, “Doesn’t everyone want to be kissed under the stars?”

His hands, his wonderfully large and veiny hands, find their way to your hips. It’s instinct for him, reflexive at this point, and here in the dark it feels like the only thing he knows. You can feel his grin against your neck, “Do you?” 

You hum, playing coy, and absently curl your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, thick and curling a bit at the ends. It’s grown out over the last few months. He’s been too busy with studying for finals and working at the library to bother getting it cut. You like it like this, long enough to hold onto, long enough to yank. “I like the stars,” you sigh—so close to his mouth, but not touching—and then you pull back, smiling fondly when you see his mouth is already puckered. “Tell me about ‘em.”

Stiles groans and falls onto his back, pulling you down with him. You end up tucked against his side, shivering as he slides his hand under your sweatshirt to trace a feathery line up and down your back. “That’s like the worst possible genre for innuendo. I can’t woo you while I’m David Attenborough-ing about astrology.”

You smile against his shoulder, and he yelps when you nip at his skin through his thread-bare t-shirt. “You like a challenge.”

He wraps a strand of your hair around his finger and pulls a little, just hard enough to tip into a reprimand. It’s at least half the reason you turn into a brat when he’s this close. “There’s Andromeda,” he hums against the top of your head, pointing towards a small cluster of stars. “Those are supposed to be her legs, and that’s her head, and the ones over there are her arms—fuckin’ uneven, I know. I think that side kinda looks like she’s holding out one of those canes with tennis balls on t—”

You smile and knock your head into his chin lightly, “Wooing, Stiles.”

He tugs on your hair again and swears under his breath when a little whimper tumbles past your lips. “Anyway, she’s next to Perseus—who looks a lot more like Patrick than a demigod. I mean, look at him; his body type is like…something between Dorito and spanakopita.” You laugh, and Stiles squeezes you closer to his side, tangles your legs together, and kisses the tip of your nose like he just can’t help himself. “Story goes, Andromeda's mom royally pissed off Poseidon, so he sent a sea monster to destroy her kingdom—as one does when someone’s talking shit.”

“Naturally,” you hum as you reach for the hand he has cupped around your waist. 

“Naturally,” Stiles agrees, nodding against the crown of your head. You try not to get too distracted by the length of his fingers, bending them and straightening them out one at a time, as he carries on with the story, “So Andromeda’s mom is up there with the titans of bad parents—like right next to Vader and every Disney step-mom ‘cause she fuckin’ ties Andromeda to a rock as a sacrifice for the mo—” He sucks in a shallow breath through his teeth when you start kissing along the row of his knuckles, first little soft brushes that almost tickle and then a few lingering ones that wet his skin. He swears again and ever-so slowly shifts his hips against the thigh tucked between his legs. You take pity on him and rest your entwined hands in the small gap between your breastbone and his ribs. His exhale is warm against your forehead, “Obviously, Perseus swoops in at the last minute, slays the beast, gets the girl, etcetera, etcetera.”

Humming, you tip your chin up against his chest and look at him through your lashes, “What happens during etcetera, etcetera?” 

“I think,” Stiles rolls over so that he’s on top of you, bracing his weight on his forearms, caging you in delightfully close to his broad chest, “something like this.”

You forget about the game for a minute when he starts mouthing at your skin with just the right amount of teeth. His hair, adorably messy and sticking up in little patches from your fingers, tickles the hinge of your jaw. “Didn’t Perseus kill Medusa?” you mumble, head tipping back into the mattress, eyes closed. 

“Uh,” Stiles keeps kissing along your neck, obviously distracted by the hitches in your breath and the soft sighs you let out when he breathes against spit-slick skin, “yeah?”

You can feel the heaviness of his whine against your mouth when you pull away, blinking up at him with big, round eyes—the picture of innocence. A little lamb, an unplucked daisy, a gossamer butterfly wing, entirely unaware of the raging hard-on pressed against your inner thigh. His skin is warm through his shirt, so warm you feel it on your legs when you wrap them around his waist. “While she was sleeping?”

“Uh huh,” Stiles slides a hand up your thigh. The other one is pressed into the mattress, and the muscles in his forearm flex under his full weight. You’re pretty sure he’d agree with anything you say like this.

Unfortunately for the pulsing between your legs, you’ve fallen victim to your own ruse. Your head tilts as you recall all the unsavory details of the Medusa myth, “After she was literally assaulted by his dad?”

Stiles drops his head against your chest and groans, “You’re killing me, baby.”

You grin and curl your fingers in his hair, petting him gently and squeezing your thighs against his hips, “Tell me another one.”

He sighs and rolls over, starfishing his right arm and leg over the edge of the bed with a dramatic flop. “We’ll skip Orion and the seven girls he stalked.”

“Smart choice,” you hum and snuggle into his side. His chest is firm from hours of trying to lift enough to play lacrosse with werewolves, but it still makes for a nice pillow. Stiles’s fingers find their way into your hair, and you swallow back the purr rising in your throat for his sake. He’s been so good for you, after all. You don’t want the torture to be too painful.

“And the swan-fucker,” he adds, scratching lightly at your scalp.

“What?”

Stiles ignores your wide eyes, smirking, and continues playing with your hair, “Altair and Vega. That’s a good one.” In the blanket of darkness and under the strain of yearning, his voice sounds soft and crackly, like one of those singers in the black and white movies, the ones that dance with the microphone. “Starts with a gorgeous, sexy, incredibly charitable goddess falling for a lowly mortal,” his grin is sly as he hikes your thigh over his, squeezing just under your ass, “a lot like us.”

“Boo. Awful.” You pull a face as he drops a flurry of kisses over your cheeks, nose, chin—your laughing mouth, “Disgusting. I’m disgusted.” 

His fingers dip into the waistband of your leggings, tauntingly close to just where you want him, “You don’t feel disgusted.”

Now, that won’t do. You’re just getting started. You trap his hand with your thighs and tap your finger against the slope of his upturned nose, “Finish the story.” 

Stiles whines a little and then sighs, returning the palm of his hand to the little dip above your hip. “Her dad is disgusted that she wants to bring a loser human home, so he turns them into stars on opposite sides of the galaxy.”

Frowning, you squint at the collection of stars he’d pointed to. They don’t look so far apart on his bedroom ceiling. “That’s…depressing.”

“It’s not over yet,” Stiles pulls on your hair and does his best to look annoyed, but the nip to your bottom lip feels far more like a reward than a punishment, “hush.” He waits a minute for you to comply—or, more likely, not comply—and you settle back on his chest and arch your brow, waiting. He arches his brow right back and then keeps going, “One day a year, on the seventh day of the seventh month, Altair fills the galaxy with his tears, and every bird in the sky makes a bridge with their wings so that they can spend one more night together.”

The corner of your mouth tugs into a little grin, “That is a good one.” You trace little patterns on his bicep, little swirls and stars, and rest your chin on his shoulder so that you can see his pretty face, “But just for the story. Only one night a year would kill me.”

“Baby,” Stiles clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth and shakes his head like he's disappointed, bottom lip jutting out slightly from under his top, “it'd take a helluva lot more than a couple light-years and an immortal father-in-law to keep me from getting to you.” 

It’s such a line, but the dopey grin he gives you while he says it somehow makes it charming. Maybe you’re just a little bit lovesick. Okay, maybe a lot. “You can kiss me n—”

He’s on you before you can finish, but you don’t mind being interrupted when he's slanting his mouth against yours just right and groaning into your sighs with a gravelly pitch that makes your toes curl. “Fuck me,” Stiles sighs. He dips back in before you can quip something bratty, something that would definitely earn you another yank on your hair—later perhaps. 

You straddle his waist, sit back in the cradle of his pelvis, and lace your fingers together on the mattress against the sides of his head. He whimpers. You curse. “Off,” you mutter against his mouth, tugging petulantly on the hem of his t-shirt. Stiles is quick to comply, like always, but the fabric gets stuck around his shoulders. You let him struggle for a minute, just long enough to hear more of those petulant little whines. When you finally help him wrangle his shirt over his head, you’re up close and personal with his mouth. His lips are pretty—swollen, pink, and shiny with salvia and your lip balm—and you’re filled with the overwhelming urge to bite. You toss his shirt somewhere on the floor behind you and lean down, your chest pressed against his. You can feel his heartbeat stutter, like a rabbit in a trap, when you stroke your thumb over his bottom lip. It’s soft and wet against your finger, and you sigh high in your throat, “Pretty.”

His chest warms, and you wish you had more light to admire the flush spreading from his neck to his cheeks. You know it’s pink and pretty too, but you’d enjoy seeing the proof. “Pretty?” Stiles echoes, cocking his head slightly, and slides his hands from your ass to your hips. He continues his path along the sides of your ribcage with the bottom of your sweatshirt bunched between his fingers.

“Pretty,” you nod, sharp and definitive. You sit up a little so that Stiles can pull your hoodie off, and then it’s lost to the dark abyss. Frankly, you aren’t that worried about if you ever see it again. You can always steal another one after you’re done. 

He shakes his head and runs his hands over your torso, your collarbones, your stomach, just under your tits—he can’t see that well in the dim light, so he’s damn well going to see you the only way he can. “Pretty,” Stiles groans, cupping your tits and gently thumbing over your nipples through the thin fabric of your cotton bra. It’s simple, white, unadorned by lace or a pattern—and it’s sexier than it has any right to be, he thinks. He’s eager to rip it off.

You shudder through the entire length of your spinal column, through all the nerves attached, and arch into his touch, “Yeah?” 

He coos, and your nipples pebble in response. It’s embarrassing but soon forgotten when Stiles cups your face, big hands encompassing almost the entire length of your jaw, and whispers, “Pretty girl. My pretty baby.” 

It’s even more embarrassing how quickly you feel your underwear dampen under the scrutiny of some simple praise. Now, you’re whining, and he’s letting out a string of guttural, “Fuck,”s as you grind down against the increasingly painful bulge in his jeans. Your nails leave little pink lines along the sculpted v of his pelvis, just deep enough to sting a bit—enough to send his head back towards his shoulders. He sits up a little more so that he can grip your hips, holding them still as he catches his breath, and you’re only a little ashamed of the way you mewl his name in protest. Stiles shuts you up with a kiss and shakes his head, “Can’t come in my pants like I’m 17 again. That’s the worst possible ending to our constellation. Like a 1/10, definitely certified rotten.”

You grin against his throat, and he swallows at the sharp press of your teeth. “Oh, I don’t think that’s the worst ending. Wouldn’t the worst be the one where you don’t come at all?” 

Stiles’s fingers dig into your hips and he pulls you down firmly against his lap, like he’s scared you’ll get up and leave him with a weeping cock and teary eyes. “Baby, don’t even joke about that. That’s a billion times worse than letting a sea monster rip me in half.”

“Guess you can split me in half then,” you shrug a little, and Stiles goes taut under you, fingertips flexing into the small of your back, “unless you want me to tie you to a rock. I’d be into that.”

He growls in your ear, nipping at your jaw and flipping you onto your back. You laugh, a little breathless, as you bounce back on the mattress from the force of it. “Definitely wanna split you in half,” Stiles mutters as he shucks off his pants and kneels at the edge of his bed. He starts peeling back your leggings, taking his time to kiss each sliver of skin revealed to him despite the urgency in his eyes, despite the ache in his white-knuckled grip on the buttery martial of your bottoms. “Gonna wreck you,” Stiles promises as he brushes his lips over your ankle a few times. His words are filthy, but his eyes are honey-sweet and lit with nothing but complete and utter devotion—like you really are a goddess in the sky. You’re already wrecked, probably have been since he kissed you for the first time, entirely ruined for anyone else.

“Did’ya know that Vega is brighter than Altair,” he says, quiet and reverent as he drops your leggings. You blink at him, a bit dumbly, but it’s his own fault for trying to have a conversation while he’s sliding your legs over his shoulders and fiddling with the hem of your underwear. “By, like, 5 places? I think? That’s us too—can’t even look at you sometimes,” he hums, warm against your wet cunt, and hooks his thumbs around your panties. You shudder, and he smiles. You aren’t quite sure if he’s talking to you or to the glistening flesh he reveals when he yanks the baby pink cotton to the side. Either way, you understand his dilemma. It’s torture to watch him sometimes. You have to close your eyes when the pink tip of his tongue darts out, wetting his lip, tasting the air. 

There’s a sigh. So soft. Really more of an exhale, and you aren’t sure where it came from. It could’ve been you, or him, or the stars. “You talk a lot,” this time you know the sigh is coming from you. 

Stiles smirks a little and slips his thumb inside your panties, swiping through your slick folds like he’s fingerpainting, “Is that a complaint?”

Your hips stutter, and his other hand is quick to clamp down on your skin, stopping any attempts to skitter away from his light touch. “I love it when you talk,” you hum, leaning up onto your elbows so that you can watch him work. He grins up at you, almost shy, and presses down against your clit. A wet gasp bursts through swollen lips as your back arches, and Stiles isn’t so shy when he bends down to drop a gentle kiss over his thumb. “But I, uh,” you brush your fingers through the dark hair flopping over his forehead and squeeze your eyes shut when his kisses become kitten licks, “I also love it when you use your mo—” His finger (his long, gifted finger) slides into your cunt with an embarrassing squelch, and his lips wrap around your clit as he sucks. “That,” you whine, back arching a little until Stiles spreads his fingers over your stomach and presses down, “I also love it when you do that.” 

His laugh vibrates deliciously against all the places he’s trying to devour, and you think it wouldn’t be such a bad way to go—being eaten alive by your gorgeous boyfriend. He pulls back to slip another finger in your pussy, spreading them just enough to burn in the best way, and then he’s prodding at the spot inside you that sends a jolt up your spine—makes your fingers wind in the bedspread, pull on his hair, fly to your mouth when you start to cry a little. It didn’t used to be like this. Sex. Getting fingered, fucked, even eaten out—it never felt like this before him. It’s…overwhelming, sometimes. Most of the time, actually. You keep waiting to get used to it, for the newness, the discovery of it all, to wear off. Hasn’t happened yet. You don’t think it ever will. Certainly not tonight. 

“Good?” Stiles licks his lips, at the glistening corners of his mouth, and you toss your head back—overwhelmed. “Good,” he concludes, and he’s not even smug about it. More like he’s making a note in one of his case files, something to look back on later when he needs it. He’s quick about getting what little remains of your clothes off, and when he crawls on top of you, you’re immensely grateful for it. Skin on skin, nothing quite like it. Quick romps in the jeep, up against alley walls, the sink of the occasional bar bathroom—all fun, but not nearly as satisfying as being completely pressed against his naked body, completely caged in by his large frame. Sappy, maybe, but it feels dirty when he drags the tip of his cock through your folds. When he bumps against your clit, you mewl and dig your nails into his back. He sucks in sharply and buries his face in the crook of your neck, “There’s a condom in th—”

“Forget it,” you whimper, carding your fingers through his hair. It’s a little sweaty where it meets his neck, and it’s so soft, and thick, and perfect, and—he’s stopped breathing against your neck. 

He groans from a place deep in his gut, deeper actually, and his arms shake, “Are you su—”

“Yes,” you nod rapidly and wrap your legs around him, arms too, and your fingers join in on the clinging when they twist in his hair. “Absolutely. 1000%. Please don’t make me say please.”

He lets out a little laugh that stirs the hair framing your face, and he traces your cheekbone, barely touching your skin. Your head swims with the look in his eyes: amber, warmth, and worship, “But you’re just so pretty when you beg.” Not that you’ve ever had to for long. Stiles gives you anything you want if you ask him the right way. If you look at him with big, wet eyes, if you jut out your lower lip just so—wet as well, the little lick of your tongue is part of it; that took him months to figure out—he crumbles. He’s said many times that better men than he have fallen victim to far less beautiful schemes. 

Stiles kisses the pout off your lips and nudges the tip of his nose over yours, grinning like a drunken idiot, “Told’ya, baby. Not a light-year, definitely not a little latex.” His grin slides into a little ‘o’ when you slither your hand between your bodies and grip his cock, sliding the first inch into your cunt, impatient. “F-fuck—fuck-ing hell,” he grunts and takes over for you, squeezing your hip until it starts to hurt a little. You’d say something, but then he’d stop—and you like the way it aches. You like knowing there will be a bruise. He’ll fret over it later, kiss each mottled spot better a million times, and you like that too. You like being taken care of, almost as much as he likes taking care of you. 

When he bottoms out, when his pelvic bone ruts up against you, a long, drawn out whimper spills through your pout. “Yeah? Feels good, baby?” Stiles watches your face closely, brushes away the hair sticking to your forehead, and drops a few kisses on your shut eyelids. You nod, and nod, and nod, until he stops you with another kiss to your lips. He kisses you slowly, presses his tongue against the seam of your lips, and you sigh. The kiss quickly becomes wet and filthy, and you’d be embarrassed by the sound of your tongues sliding together if you could actually hear it. At the moment, all you can hear is his cock sliding in and out of your dripping pussy—and that’s definitely sending a dizzying heat up your neck. You don’t worry about it for long when his hips shift and he starts hitting that spot inside you again. After that, neither of you can hear anything over your squealing. Stiles kisses away the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes and licks his lips, chasing the taste. “Right there, huh?” You babble an incoherent answer, and he strokes your hair and noses at your cheek, “Yeah, right there. I know. It’s okay.” 

Stiles slides his hands under your back and sits up, taking you with him. The new angle is impossibly deep, and you bite down on his shoulder and wind your arms around his neck to keep yourself there. With him. In the moment. “It’s okay, baby. I got you, promise,” he squeezes your hips, and despite his reassurances and the strength of his grip, you know he’s falling apart too. He’s close. You can feel it. His hips stutter a little, change direction, lose their dedicated pace—and it’s perfect because you’re right there with him. It’s been building for a while, probably since he led you by hand to his room, maybe even before that when he smirked at you behind his cup of tequila and (mostly) pineapple juice. 

You cry a little and bite down on your bottom lip, hard. Stiles kisses the sting away, and your eyes screw shut as you start babbling again, “I’m—”

He kisses you again and lifts his hands from your hips to cup your face, thumbing along your bottom lip when he pulls back—not far, just enough to look at your face, shiny with sweat and tears. “I know,” he stills for a moment, pausing the movement of his hips so that he can just feel you pulsing around him for a moment, “me too.” You aren’t sure if you want to hit him or kiss him for stopping, but you don’t have the strength to do either when he starts what must be his final round of thrusts. It has to be—you’re a few seconds away from collapsing or coming, whichever comes first. When Stiles moans your name in your ear, soft and high like he does when he’s right there, and he slides his hand down your stomach to rub firm circles on your clit, you’re happy it’s your orgasm that happens first. Your abs convulse a little as you twitch around him, and you curl in on yourself as much as you can with Stiles in the way. He’s not in the way for long. Growling, he shoves you back against the bed and mumbles, “Where?” after a few sloppy thrusts. 

You mewl as he keeps the pressure on your clit, reach for his wrist and try to pull his hand away, but he’s determined and you’re tired. You twitch and throw your head back, whimpering, “Inside,” before you can think better of it. It’s his fault, you’ll decide later, for prolonging your high with his mean, unforgiving, wonderful thumb. 

He’ll blame you, for feeling so perfect around him—for fluttering, and leaking, and trembling better than…anything he’s ever seen in porn, and he’s watched...a lot of it, so he’s a bit of an expert on the cinematic orgasm. “You’re so fuckin—you,” he shakes his head against your heaving chest and groans, “you’re everything.” And when he finally comes in you, you’re okay with taking the blame for something that feels so good. He manages a few more thrusts, and then he finally lets you pull his hand away from your cunt when he collapses onto his forearms, barely holding himself up from crushing you with his full weight. You’d tell him to roll over, but then he’d be over there and not in you, so you put up with the sweat and heaviness while your head spins. 

“Baby?” Stiles hums noncommittally in response to your soft prodding, and you smirk against the top of his head. All the smugness leaves you when you finally feel the foreign sensation of his cum leaking out of you. Shuddering, you kiss his hair a few times and scratch up and down his back lightly until he’s able to breathe normally. He pushes himself up onto his arms and glances down when he pulls out, staring for a moment at the way your pussy gapes a bit, watching the trickle of cum drip down your folds and onto the bed. He rubs his hand over his jaw and licks his lips, shaking his head—at a loss for words for the first time in his life. Your tongue is a little thick when you fill the void for him, “Next time, towel first.”

He finds it within himself to tear his eyes away from your cunt and gives you a crooked little grin, “Next time?”

You roll your eyes, but your grin is stupid with affection, “Sure, next time. Maybe. If you’re good.” 

It’s a little disgusting, the way he just rolls over and pulls you on top of him with absolutely no regard for the various bodily fluids sticking to your skin, but you forget about the unpleasantness of drying cum and cooling sweat when he kisses you. “I’m always good,” he huffs against your cheek. You shoot him a look, brows arched and eyes narrowed, and he smirks, “Okay, maybe not, but I’m always good for you.”

You nuzzle in a little closer and scoff, but it’s true. Stiles is so good, always—especially for you. “I guess you did manage to woo me. You’re very sexy when you’re talkin’ astrology, you know that?” 

He smiles, wide and happy, and wiggles his brows, “An absolute banger of an ending, right? I don’t think they could chart it in the stars without ruining your pretty face, but that’s probably for the best.” Stiles brushes his fingers over your lips when you let out a little questioning hum and takes your hand, growling playfully as he nibbles at your fingertips, “You’re mine. Nobody’s allowed to see you like this but me—definitely not horny little nerds with their telescopes.” 

You grin and bump your nose against his, “You’re a horny little nerd with a telescope.”

Stiles tips his head with a sly grin, and you already know what he’s going to say—it’s still devastatingly adorable when he whispers, “No, I’m your horny little nerd with a telescope.” 

Adorable enough to make you consider pulling him into the shower with you, and if the heavy-lidded look he’s giving you is anything to go by, you’d say he agrees.

[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.

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

okay hi just a warning rq my autocorrect is off bc it autocorrected my friend’s name to fuckin malayalam on accident. i dont like autocorrect.

ANYWAY! ive been listening to my lovely olivia rodrigo lately, specifically her new song obsessed. i wanted to know if you could make a fic with Ethan x fem! reader where readers bitchy friend has this ex (Ethan) and she made him out to be a real dick. like, manipulating and everything.

reader eventually meets him and it turns out that she remembers… a lot about him considering her friend is a constant yapper and cant shut up about him. Ethan actually turns out to be a real cutie patootie and could literally never hurt anyone.

a few days later theyd meet again at some club or party maybe where they end up hitting it off… a little too well.. yeah so she ends up in his bed (smut part, very dom ethan plspls 😛😛). they could be talking about something really random and then reader brings up how her friend basically completely lied about him and said he was a piece of shit when he really wasnt. like a realllll fluffy end before a small cliffhanger thats never gonna get finished where her friend ends up finding out and texting her.

so sorry if thats too long or confusing idk but i actually love your work so much im lowkey your #1 fan. 😍😍😍

HELLO! I switched this up a little, I hope that's okay! 💕

Also, I fucking loved the 'leave it on a cliffhanger part that won't get finished' because WHY IS THAT WHAT I DO lmao

Obsessed - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 1

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Part 2

Summary: Your friend told you horrible lies about her ex-boyfriend, and once you get to know him, you realize he's not the monster she made him out to be.

Contains: Mentions of a toxic relationship, Dom-ish cocky Ethan, rough-ish sex, oral - f receiving, p in v, fluff (If I missed anything, PLEASE let me know. I'm sleep deprived atm)

A/N: This was the one that pulled me out of my writers block, lmao. It's still not where I want it to be, but I'm TRYING. I'll try to post more this week, but I will be busy so bear with me haha.

You didn’t know Ethan Landry, but you knew you didn’t like him. He used to date one of your friends, and after hearing all the horrible things he’d said and done during their relationship, you thought he was really scummy.

They dated in high school and couldn’t get enough of each other, so they wanted to go to the same college. They broke up right before freshman year started, and after almost a year, she still talked about him every chance she got. She’d tell you how controlling he was. The things he’d call her when he was mad. How he cheated on her. You couldn’t believe that she stayed in the relationship for as long as she did, because she never had anything good to say, except that she loved him.

You’d seen pictures of him, and after walking into one of your classes at the start of the new semester, you saw him in person for the first time. He was so shy as he took his seat in the lecture hall, some of the girls making their little comments about the rumors they’d heard about him. He didn’t seem like the type that would do the things your friend said, but maybe he was just really good at playing innocent. All you knew was that you needed to keep your distance from him.

When you met up with your friend later that day for lunch, you didn’t know if you wanted to bring up Ethan being in the same class as you, but once she brought him up, you decided to tell her.

“Speaking of Ethan…I saw him today,” you said, before taking a bite of your food. Her face dropped as she looked at you.

“Where did you see him?” she questioned. You explained that you saw him in one of your new classes, and she rolled her eyes. “Can you believe he still tries to text me?”

“What I can’t believe is that you haven’t blocked him,” you said, “I know I’d hate to see someone that treated me like shit’s name pop up on my phone.”

She started to giggle as you curiously stared at her. “I have him saved in my phone as ‘Tall loser with a small dick’, so I laugh every time he does text me.”

“That’s not toxic at all,” you said, as you started to think about what she’d said. “Wait, he treated you as bad as he did and has a small dick? What the fuck were you thinking?”

“All he had going for him was that he was cute,” she said, “But seriously, if I were you, I’d stay away from him.”

“Oh, please. Like I’d even want to be near him.”

Your morning wasn’t going as expected. You slept through all of your alarms; you didn’t have time to stop for coffee. You didn’t think your day could get any worse, until you walked into class and noticed the only empty seat available was beside Ethan. You took a deep breath before you walked over and sat down. Once you reached into your backpack, you realized that your laptop wasn’t there. You were in such a hurry when you ran out of your dorm and didn’t even think to grab it.

“Shit,” you whispered, “I’m so stupid.”

“Here,” Ethan said, passing you a notebook and a pen. You curiously looked at him as he offered a weak smile. “I always keep an extra notebook, just in case.”

“Thanks,” you said, a half-smile playing on your lips.

Once class started, you were taking your notes, but you kept glancing over to Ethan. He was so focused on typing that he didn’t notice, but you couldn’t help but wonder if everything your friend told you was true. At that moment, he didn’t seem like a jerk. Then again, he had only spoken a handful of words to you.

Ethan was aware of all the things that were said about him. He hoped that after a few weeks it all would’ve blown over, but once you have an angry ex-girlfriend paint you as some horrible, emotionally abusive asshole, it’s hard to come back from that. He knew that it was best for him to just keep his head down until he was able to transfer to a different school, where no one knew who he was. He was miserable at Blackmore, and he really had no reason to stick around, aside from the few friends he’d made.

After class was over, you tore the pages of notes you’d taken from the notebook to give it back to Ethan.

“Thanks again,” you said, as you handed it back to him.

“You’re welcome,” he said, shoving it back in his backpack. “I thought about just emailing you my notes, but I didn’t know if you’d want that.”

“You’re telling me I didn’t have to spend the last hour trying to write that fast?” you asked, as he flashed you a sweet, genuine smile. “Why wouldn’t someone want that?”

“I don’t know, maybe it’s because most people here hate me,” he said, sliding the straps of his backpack over his shoulders. “You’ve probably heard things about me.”

“Yeah…are they true?” you asked, as he shook his head.

“You’re the first person that’s asked me that. Everyone else just assumes everything is true,” he sighed, “But no, I’m not a bad person.”

You started to feel so guilty. You’d said plenty of bad things about him, but you only heard one side of the story. With your friends’ story changing so many times, getting more dramatic each time she told it, you were starting to realize that it was all bullshit. You still didn’t know exactly what happened, but you were curious to know what the truth was.

“You okay?” Ethan asked, noticing that you were lost in thought as you stood in front of him.

“I’m friends with your ex,” you said, as his smile slowly fell. “What’s the real story?”

He sat back down in his seat as the other students piled out of the room. You sat beside him as you waited for him to speak.

“I really loved her…but she was just so controlling. Then she cheated on me when she went to the beach with her family. I didn’t find out about that until right before we started college,” he said, looking over to you. “She was pissed that I broke up with her, then all these horrible things about me started going around.”

“That’s fucked up,” you said, as he nodded.

“Yeah, she’s still been trying to text me. I finally blocked her a few days ago.”

“Wait, she said you’ve been trying to text her,” you said, his eyes growing wide at your words.

“Her number’s been deleted from my phone for months. I have no interest in talking to her,” he said, “I know this must be weird for you since you are her friend, but I think it’s cool that you wanted to hear me out.”

“Well, I feel like I need to apologize…I’ve said some things about you that weren’t true.”

“She’s a good liar. She has almost the entire school hating me so it doesn’t surprise me that her friend does, too,” he said, as he stood back up.

“I don’t hate you,” you said, smiling at him. “I don’t know if you’d want to, and I know she’d kill me, but if you ever want to hang out sometime, let me know.”

“I’d like that.”

Ethan was kicking himself for not asking you for your number, or shit, even your social media so he could DM you. He thought you were beautiful, but he knew that hoping for a chance with you would be a reach. He really just needed more people in his life that believed him to make the time he still had at the university more enjoyable.

Your friend begged you to come to a random frat party that you didn’t feel like going to in the first place. After your talk with Ethan, you weren’t even sure you wanted to be around her. You still went, and after searching for her for almost an hour, you checked your phone to see a message from her that she wasn’t coming, and that she ran into one of the guys she’d been hooking up with on the way to the party.

“Why the fuck am I even here?” you said to yourself as you locked your phone and slid it into the back pocket of your jeans.

“Hopefully to hang out with me, if your offer’s still good,” you heard from behind you, recognizing Ethan’s voice.

“Hey,” you said as you turned to face him. “I didn’t expect to see the most hated man on campus here.”

“My roommate told me that if I stayed in my dorm tonight, he’d throw my Xbox out the window,” he said, glancing over to the muscular guy that was watching Ethan talk to you.

“Ah, so you were threatened into being social,” you said, as he started to laugh.

“I guess you could say that. Do you want a drink?”

“Sure.”

Ethan wasn’t much of a drinker; you could tell by the sour look on his face every time he took a sip. It gave him a little confidence though, as the two of you talked and got to know each other a little better.

“I don’t think I can drink this anymore,” he said, sitting the cup down on a table. You sat yours down too, and as soon as you did, someone bumped into you, shoving you into Ethan.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you said, looking up at him. Your chest was pressed closely against his, his hands on your hips from catching you.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, “You can stay this close to me all night, if you want.”

“Are you always this smooth? Or is it the alcohol?” you questioned as he smirked at you.

“I’m only buzzed,” he said, before he leaned down, placing his lips on yours.

Chad was still watching Ethan from afar, cheering and thrusting his fist in the air once he saw Ethan kiss you. He started to laugh against your lips before he pulled away to stare daggers through his roommate for interrupting the moment.

“I can’t take him anywhere,” Ethan said, as you smiled at him.

“We could go somewhere more private,” you suggested, as he took your hand in his.

“Want to go back to my dorm? He’ll be here for a while so I know we can talk without being interrupted.”

“Sure!”

Once you made it back to Ethan’s dorm, you were starting to think that he really did just want to talk. You enjoyed listening to him, though. He was telling you about all his hobbies and interests, and you were telling him yours. You started to glance around his side of the dorm room, noticing the cliché, dorky things you’d expect to see.

“Nice Star Wars poster, nerd,” you joked, as he smirked at you.

“Oh, I’m a nerd?” he said, as he nudged you back on his bed. He was hovering over you, his mouth inches from yours. The sexual tension got so thick as his eyes looked into yours, his hand rubbing your hip.

“Mhm,” you said, the corner of your bottom lip in between your teeth. “A hot nerd.”

He felt his cheeks start to heat up, and he really didn’t want you to notice, so he leaned down to finally connect his lips to yours. It didn’t take long for the kiss to get more intense, his tongue brushing across your bottom lip. You let him deepen the kiss, his tongue moving with yours as his hands started to roam. You whimpered into the kiss once his hand squeezed your thigh, your hips started to squirm underneath him.

He pulled away but still stayed close so the two of you could catch your breath. You were reading each other’s faces, and it was obvious that you both wanted more.

“How far do you want this to go?” he asked, his breathing still heavy as his eyes looked into yours.

“As far as you want,” you said, your sweet tone making him groan.

“That’s not what I asked you,” he said, as he leaned back down to kiss your neck. His curls were tickling you, but the only reaction you had were the soft moans slipping past your lips from how well his mouth moved. His hips were rutting into yours, showing you how hard he was for you.

“I want you to fuck me,” you said, as he pulled away to look at you.

“You sure?”

“Mhm.”

Ethan was a little, well, very eager. He got you undressed in what felt like seconds, leaving you in just your panties. Once he stripped down to just his boxers, you got a little curious. You glanced down to see his hard cock straining against the fabric, and started to laugh to yourself, your gaze going to the ceiling.

“What’s funny?” he asked, as he hovered back over you to take one of your nipples in his mouth. Your laughing stopped, a gasp slipping out when he started to suck. “I asked you a question,” he teased, before moving to the other side.

“She really does lie about everything,” you said, as his tongue swirled. “She said you had a small dick.”

He started to laugh against you, before he pulled back. “That’s funny, because she couldn’t take it.”

“I can,” you said, his smile turning to a smirk as his hand trailed down your body to rub you over your panties.

“We’ll see about that,” he said, as he moved lower down the bed to position himself between your thighs.

He slid your panties down your legs, before running his fingers over your wet pussy. Your eyes stayed on him, your bottom lip in between your teeth as he teased you. Your anticipation just kept building as he moved down the bed, positioning himself in between your thighs. He leaned in, slipping his tongue inside your entrance.

He was sloppily eating you out, his head moving from side to side. His arms hooked under your thighs to pull you as close to his face as he could as your hands went to his hair.

“So good,” you whimpered, your breathing getting faster as he worked you closer to your orgasm.

He slid his tongue out of you to focus on your clit, quickly replacing it with two of his fingers. Your back was arching off the bed as he moved his arm back and forth, applying as much pressure as he could to that spongy spot inside you as he sucked on your swollen bundle of nerves.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you babbled, as he started to chuckle with your clit in his mouth.

That was all it took for your legs to start shaking and your grip on his hair getting even tighter. Once your pussy started to clench around him, he slowed his fingers to a slow roll, not wanting to overstimulate you. His tongue gently licked your clit as he worked you through it, your whimpers getting softer as you came down from your high.

“That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” you admitted through your shaky breathing. Ethan started to laugh a little as you looked at him, your eyes hazy. “What?”

“Just wait until I’m inside you,” he cockily said, “You still confident that you can handle it?”

“I know I can,” you said, your legs instinctively spreading wide for him as his fingertips ran up your thigh.

“What are you going to do when no one else can make you feel as good as I do?” he questioned, as one of his fingers started to rub circles on your clit.

“I guess I’d have to keep you around then,” you said, as he shook his head.

“You’d only have me until summer starts,” he said, his finger moving faster. “I’m transferring to a different school after this year.”

“No, you’re not..fuck. I’ll convince you to stay,” you said, relaxing into the bed as he teased you.

Ethan pulled his hand away from your pussy before he slid his boxers off. He crawled back on top of you and reached over to his bedside table to grab a condom.

“I might let you convince me,” he said, as he lined up with your entrance. You tensed up a little because you knew how big he was. “Relax, baby.”

You did as he said, taking a deep breath as he inched his way inside of you. You were moaning as he stretched you out, and when you thought he was all the way in, he just kept going.

“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, feeling so full as he finally came to a stop, wanting to give you plenty of time to adjust. “Told you..Fuck, I told you I could take it,” you said, already struggling to speak.

“Don’t get cocky,” he said, your mouth falling open as he started to move. “I’m going to ruin this pussy.”

“Ruin it,” you said, challenging him as your lusty, hooded eyes connected with his.

It took everything in Ethan to not immediately start pounding into you, but he didn’t want to hurt you. He started slow, your eyebrows already furrowing together, low moans slipping past your lips. The head of his cock hit that special spot every single time, but you needed more. He sped up a little as your legs wrapped around him, your hands gripped tightly around his biceps.

“Maybe you can take it,” he said, his breathing getting heavier. “Can I go faster?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, as his hips moved quicker.

Your brain was starting to turn to mush, the babbles slipping past your lips making absolutely no sense. The only thing your mind could process in that moment was how good Ethan was making you feel. He thought you were adorable, already so cock drunk, and he wasn’t even close to being done with you yet. He kept his pace, but occasionally thrust a little harder to see if you could take it, the loud moans slipping past your lips as your nails started to dig into his arms letting him know that you could.

He angled your hips to go even deeper. His pace was a little slow as he made sure you were okay. Your eyes were pleading with him to go faster, because you knew the words weren’t going to come out of your mouth. It was getting so hard for him to hold back, so he finally let go. He started to pound into you so hard that your skin was tingling, all the nerves in your body on edge. Your toes were curling as he slammed into your g-spot, your whimpers turning to cries as you felt your orgasm starting to build. It was hard for you to keep your eyes open, and you were sure Ethan was going to have your nail marks on his arms forever with how hard you were squeezing him.

“Fuck,” was the only word you were able to get out, your legs wrapping tightly around him as your body started to involuntarily jolt. Ethan was sure that everyone in the surrounding dorm rooms knew what was happening, because you were being so loud. He wasn’t letting up though. He loved that he was making you feel that good.

It only took a few more deep thrusts before your entire body started to tremble, loud whines flooding out of your mouth as the wave of euphoria washed over you. He chased his own orgasm as he fucked you through it, your pussy clenching him so tight that he was moaning himself.

“I’m almost there, baby,” he said, a slight rasp in his voice from all the panting he’d been doing.

You went limp, your grip on his arms and your legs around his waist relaxing as his hips started to falter, a loud groan slipping past his lips as he released into the condom.

He took a minute to catch his breath before he slid out of you. His abs were burning and his arms were sore from your nails, but he quickly got up to take the condom off so he could take care of you.

He crawled in the bed next to you as you adjusted to lay your head on his chest, still so fucked out that it was hard to process your thoughts. Ethan just held you close, his hands softly rubbing over your bare back as you relaxed into his touches.

“You’re okay, right?” he asked, after a few minutes of you not saying anything. You lazily nodded as your hand moved to rub across his chest.

You laid there in silence as you started to think about what’d just happened. You knew your friend was going to be pissed if she ever found out, but did that even matter? She made almost the entire university hate Ethan for things he never did, and it made you sad that he felt like he needed to switch to a different school so he wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore.

“So…” you finally said, “How can I convince you to stay?”

He let out a nervous laugh, not knowing the best way to respond. “I can’t take people talking about me the way they do anymore.”

“Even if I convince everyone that it was all lies?” you questioned, your tone playful as you angled your head to look at him. “I think it’d be awful for you to leave because of her. You could miss out on someone that would treat you right.”

“Someone like you?” he questioned as he looked down at you. You nodded, before he leaned down to kiss you. “You’re good at this whole convincing thing.”

“Does that mean you’ll stay?” you asked, smiling as you sat up to look at him.

“Yeah, as long as you don’t break my heart,” he said, wrapping his arms around you to pull you back down to his chest.

“I won’t.”

You stayed in Ethan’s bed for a couple hours, making plans for all the dates he wanted to take you on. It felt like you’d known him for way longer than just a few days, the two of you having an instant connection. You hated to pull away from him, but you knew you needed to get dressed before his roommate got home.

“It’s late, can I walk you back to your dorm?” he asked, as he started to put his clothes back on.

“I can’t believe I thought you were this horrible monster. You’re so sweet,” you said, as he smiled at you. “Yeah, you can walk me home.”

Ethan walked you to the front door of your building, pulling you into a gentle kiss before he pulled away.

“I’ll text you,” he said, as he started to back away.

“Yeah, let me know when you make it back to your dorm, please,” you said, as he nodded.

When you made it upstairs and got settled into your bed, you heard your phone vibrate as it charged on your bedside table. You grabbed it and saw a goodnight message from Ethan, a huge smile on your face as you responded to him. You were so exhausted from the time you’d spend with him, and you soon felt yourself start to doze off. You heard your phone buzz again, your eyes lazily opening to see if it was Ethan. You took a deep breath once you read the message that was sent to you.

‘Why the fuck were you kissing Ethan at that party?’

[amuyyi]

she wants me (to be loved) .

synopsis; you have always loved huh yunjin, but not in the way she loved you.

trope; huh yunjin x f!reader, angst, unrequited (?) love, bittersweet ending

wc; 4.6k

cw; idk like one cuss word LMAO

a/n; i swear im still in forever writers block but THIS FIC IS INSPIRED BY THE SHE WANTS ME TO BE LOVED WARRIOR CATS AMV ON YOUTUBE ITS ABOUT BLUEFUR AND THRUSHPELT PLEEEEK WATCH IT AND/OR LISTEN TO THE SONG WHILE READING IM JUST SO ARRGGHHH also its almost 4 am i am half asleep i just realllyy wanted to finish this. also i used to be a theatre kid so.

You have always loved Huh Yunjin. But not in the way she loved you.

You recall very vividly the first day you met her.

It was the middle of freshman year of high school, and you had just moved into New York from out of state. Your father had just gotten a new job opportunity, and practically wasted no time packing all of your things to move in the middle of the school year. Perfect. New place, new faces, and definitely no friends. Everything an emotional teenage girl needed in a cruical stage of her development. All of the other students in your classes were nice enough, but everyone already had their established friend groups by now, and you simply didn't fit what they were looking for.

Despite the different environment, there was one thing that this school provided that provided some sort of familiarity.

Theater.

Back in middle school and for the brief semester you had in your old high school, you had always been a fan of the big stage. The music, the dramatics, the acting… It was all so whimsical and alluring to you. How could you not get involved?

(Okay, honestly.. You had gotten really into musical theater in middle school once you found a Hamilton animatic and it became your sole personality trait for a good two years or so–)

Unfortunately, you were too much of a coward to truly put yourself out there like the actors around you. High school insecurities and poor self esteem truly did take its toll on you back then. So instead, you settled for being part of the stage crew. 

You thought that getting involved with a club would make it easier for you to socialize and make friends. You could join a community. Yet somehow, it made everything all the more difficult.

Everybody seemed to already know each other and have their own established friends. On top of that, everyone also seemed to know who they hated as well. You would always overhear what other actors and techies would say about one another and it only just put you off from making friends even more. The whole environment was incredible… cliquey. 

Still, you had nothing else better to do, so you stayed. It was… Fine. You still had no real friends, but you did enjoy doing various tasks around the stage. Working with stage lights, helping prepare costumes, painting backdrops. It keeps you busy. It was routine.

It wasn’t an uncommon sight to walk in on actors practicing their lines or their songs backstage. Back home, you knew everyone involved within the production– including the actors. You would always compliment them and occasionally even provide help whenever you didn’t have your own techy jobs to fulfill. The main problem? This isn't home. Nobody here was your friend.

But when you found a pretty girl practicing for this semester's production of Phantom of The Opera in an empty hallway, you couldn't help but stop in your tracks and stare. You’ve never seen her before. Well, it's not like you bothered to pay much attention to the people around you anymore— but you feel like you wouldn't miss a face like hers.

She had the prettiest brown hair with highlights and the cutest beauty mark near the corner of her mouth. She was pacing around the hall, script in hand as she did various vocal exercises. The sound of her voice echoes off the walls, and it was just as angelic as she looked. 

“Prima Donna, your song shall live again…!” She sings out, her voice at a steady yet powerful vibrato throughout her verse. Her Bel Canto was skilled and practiced, and you can't help but wonder how long she’s been doing this for. Surely she’s overqualified for a simple high school production? You needed to hear more…

She moves her hands in elegant and dramatic forms as she immerses herself into the self-centered character of Carlotta. She played the roke perfectly, considering how most definitely had your attention now.

 “You took a snub, but theres a public who needs you, think of the cr—“

A loud thud rings throughout the hallway, startling the mystery opera singer as well as yourself. Shit. You look down and see the culprit. Well, it was you. you caused the interruption— but more specifically, it was a freshly decapitated mannequin head with a wig you were going to more securely attach to the top. It was a bit of a horrific sight, in all honesty.

Now that you think about it, this prop might actually be for her. Though you didn't have much time to ponder that thought considering the mysterious brown haired beauty has now caught you eavesdropping on her singing.

The head rolls across the tile floor and lands at her feet. You feel your face warm to what was most likely a bright tomato red as she picks it up by its shortened neck, the wig threatening to fall off as it dangles limply off of the top of its head.

“I'm assuming this is yours?” She smiles kindly at you, though a bit wary. Understandable, really. You would be wary of yourself too if you were in her shoes.

“Y-Yeah, sorry…” you nervously laugh, taking the head from her hands as you try to pat the wig back into place. 

“You sounded good, by the way!” You quickly stammer out, absentmindedly hugging the head to your chest, “Like… really good. Seriously.”

The mystery girl laughs at your flustered words, and she waves her hand dismissively. Her cheeks warm bashfully as she shakes her head.

“Thanks but… I have a lot to work on. My tones off, and I still need to memorize these lines by tomorrow…” she trails off, moving to press her back against the wall, sliding and sitting down on the floor.

Fiddling a bit with the mannequin head, you don't allow yourself to think too hard before you suddenly blurt out.

“I-I can help!”

You watch as her pretty brown eyes widen slightly, and

“Really? You sure you arent too busy?

You were actually quite busy, but she didnt have to know that.

“Of course not,” you lie confidently, sticking a hand out, “I’m y/n.”

She eyes your hand curiously, but ultimately shakes it, “Yunjin. Jennifer, if you’d like.”

From then on, you would spend every other day after school with Yunjin, helping her recite her lines, fitting her for costume changes, and even finishing that mannequin head prop for her.

Soon after, your after school hangouts turned into out of school hangouts and then eventual sleepovers every weekend. You learned everything possible about Yunjin. Like how she had always dreamed of being a performer, how she wanted to make it big in the Kpop industry, how she loves snakes…

Since then, you knew you loved her.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

On one seemingly normal spring afternoon, you were abruptly torn away from your sunkissed siesta with the sound of your door being kicked open.

With the growing bond between you and Yunjin, you made the mistake of giving the girl a spare key to your own home. (Oddly enough, your parents werent against the idea. They considered Yunjin like a second daughter.)

You whine out as she grasps at your half asleep form, shaking you aggressively.

“I got accepted into a company, y/n!! I'm gonna be a trainee!”

Eyes shooting open, you try to sit up through the aggressive grip Yunjin had on you.

“No kidding?” You croak out, looking at her with disbelief.

“I'm not!” She cheers, bouncing happily through your bedroom. Trying to match her energy through the grogginess, you slip out of bed, stumbling a bit as you tumble into her arms. Yunjin laughs at your state, wrapping her arms around your waist to keep you steady as she jumps excitedly.

“I’m  going to move back to Korea next month— this is so exciting!!” She squeals out, and your smile falters ever so slightly. Move? To Korea?

Still, you bite back the sickly feeling developing in your stomach as you squeal alongside her.

You were happy for her, and did nothing but support her all throughout her time in Korea. Called her every night after training, sent her pictures of school life without her, even voting for her in that odd survival show she participated in. You did anything and everything you could to be the best friend you could be.

Yunjin always had the stars in her eyes. But in yours? There was only ever her. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The day that everything truly changed is still fresh in your mind.

After spending years chasing after Yunjin, it feels like you have finally caught up to her. She's back in the states after her time in Korea, and she's planning on staying. She looked a little different than before, but it was the same old Jennifer you knew and loved— even when missing a few moles and deeper eyebags.

Upon her arrival back home, it was like no time had passed. Once again attached at the hip, as it should be. You practically made it your job to crawl into her skin at any given moment and to pamper her with all of her favorite things. 

You would treat her to meals, spontaneous shopping sprees, and simple girls nights out. All of the good stuff to make up for lost time. Unfortunately, your attempts to keep your best friend happy came with their own obstacles. you would occasionally find advertisements or clips of idols that would show up during your time together, and for just a brief moment, you would see that usual spark within Yunjin’s eyes falter. It was a stark reminder of what she could have had.

It hurt you to see her get reminded of her time as a trainee. It truly was everything she wanted and more. But it was okay, you were here now, and you weren't planning on letting her go this time.

You’d drop any and everything for Yunjin. You allowed her to vent whenever she needed, to come over whenever she wanted, and to indulge in spontaneous late night meals whenever you two felt like it.

Needless to say, your wallet was crying by the time summer was nearing its end, but you didn’t mind at all. Yunjin was back. She was happy. You were happy. Things were finally returning to normal.

The two of you decide on a college to attend together in Boston, both pursuing a major in business. It's neither of your first choices in majors, but it's a good enough money maker in the long run. 

The pair of you sat in Yunjins bedroom, with you comfortably propped up against her bedframe on the floor whilst the brunette lay comfortably on the mattress. You hugged the  djungelskog plushie you had gifted Yunjin some birthday ago close to your chest as you atared at your phone, with Yunjin crunching away on cheez-its as the entire La La Land soundtrack softly plays from the record player in the corner of the room. 

Its nearly less than a month until move in day at Boston University, and you feel beyond giddy. Actual independence? And spending it with your best friend slash secret crush? Your dreams were coming true. Looking through your college dorms on the website, the pair of you converse about the future.

“What kind of theme do you think we should go for our dorm?” you ask, leaning your head against the bed to look up at Yunjin, who was still crunching away contentedly at her snacks.

“I'm not sure… But I do know I want to cover my wall with all of my posters…”

“Ooh! Yeah!! I can add fake flowers on the walls…”

“ Of course, we need a bit of girlish charm— oh! we need to make room for a record player and my guitar.”

“Google maps says there's a 7-eleven near the campus…” you murmur, your short attention prompting you to immediately shift to another topic.

“ Should we go got late night snack runs?”

“Duh.”

“Or maybe if we get tired of the dorm food, we can get equally as crappy convenience store food for instead–”

Suddenly, the music from Yunjin’s phone gets cut off, being replaced with her ringtone (it was Come Inside Of My Heart by IV of Spades ) as she huffs.

“ sorry, hold that thought..” She murmurs, answering the call.

You didn't know any Korean, the only bits you’re familiar with are the phrases Yunjin taught you to talk with her parents (which you also butchered) so you naturally begin to tune out whatever she begins to say on her end. Despite this though, you easily pick up on the shift in tone as she speaks. Professionalism, skepticism, to Shock. That was all you could read off of Yunjin as you looked up from your phone, curiously glancing at her. Her eyes were boggling out of her skull, and she placed a hand over her mouth before ending the call.

The brunette remains frozen in place, hand still over her mouth as a silence passes over the room.

“So….?” You ask, crawling up onto the bed to sit next to her.

Yunjin’s voice is shaky, yet laced with a twinge of excitement and disbelief as she speaks, “I just got a call from Hybe. I… I have the chance to debut.”

You don’t know what came over you at that moment. It felt like the world came collapsing down on you. Right now, you should be happy. Jumping for joy, focusing all on Yunjin and her chance for success. She's been given a real chance to make her dreams come true, even after it seemed impossible, even after all the years of rejection and work. This was all she wanted in life and more— you should be happy? Right?

But you’ve always been a selfish person. Or maybe you convinced yourself you were ever since that day. You don’t know. Maybe in that moment, you realized you could lose everything you’ve been waiting for. You’d lose the girl you've chased after for so many years now. If you didn't do something now, you wouldn’t have the chance to do it ever again. You were a greedy person, so you confess.

“Yunjin, I love you. I always have.”

The words feel like a slap to the face, and it shows. It shows in the way her eyes widen and smile falls. This was a bad idea, but you can't back out now. Your eyes begin to water as your voice cracks.

“I… I don’t want you to go— to leave me…” you choke out, “What about uni? Our dorm? What am I going to do without you?”

You knew you were being manipulative, you knew you were being selfish. But you didn’t care. You wanted her to know how you truly felt. You didn’t want her to leave you, not again. Your heart couldn’t handle it.

Through tears threatening to spill out, you can see her cheeks slowly dust a faint shade of pink as she processes your words. She seems… hesitant. Over what? You weren’t too sure. You weren’t too sure if you even wanted to know. 

The silence that washes over the two of you is beyond suffocating. You feel like you’re drowning, digging your nails into your palms as you look away. If you looked at her, you were scared you’d break, and the tears would begin to flow. After a few moments that feel like hours, she finally responds.

“I believe you have feelings for me…” she begins, voice soft yet strained. For some reason, those words leave a bad feeling in your gut. You muster up enough courage to meet her gaze. She looked just as hurt and conflicted as you felt. Yunjins grip on her phone tightens as she takes a deep breath, continuing, “...but I can’t give this up, y/n. It's my dream.”

That was the moment you knew you truly lost her.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

In another life, you and Yunjin would be at Boston University together, pursuing that business degree that neither of you want.

It's a dream that used to occasionally return to you when Yunjin was overseas. Every now and then, you’d wake up in a cold sweat, and you’d check Yunjins location. She’d still be in Seoul. It was okay though, because you knew she’d always come back. She always came back. Now it haunts you every other night.

The dream is always so incredibly vivid and real. You would wake up to Yunjins many alarms that she somehow manages to sleep through every single time, and you’d peel your eyes opened to your shared dorm room. Though you didn’t have much time to admire the beauty of it all through the sound of an alarm continuously dragging you out of your slumber. She’s always been a heavy sleeper. you’d have to jump on Yunjins sleeping form to even stir her into some form of consciousness.

Yunjin groaned in protest, but you knew her. She wasn’t truly bothered, not when it came to you. Instead of entertaining your futile attempts to wake her up, she would wrap her arm around your waist, dragging you down with her as you squeal out.

She's warm. Her brown bobbed hair has grown out by now, black roots peeking through the top of her head as you join the mess that is her bed (and hair.) She smells like vanilla and wood, and you can't help but laugh into her embrace. You’ll be late to the dining hall for breakfast, but it doesn't really matter. There was a 7-eleven nearby that could provide breakfast while the two of you rushed to your classes– in which you had meticulously planned to have almost every single class together.

After a long day of school, you would return back to your dorm both collapsing on your respective beds as exhaustion settles in. It was decorated just the way you two liked it. With both boy and girl band posters littering the walls alongside some fake vines, flowers, and a multitude of polaroids you two have accumulated over the years. 

Once the two of you move out of the dorms and graduate, you’d find an apartment to share. Dual income and no children, that was the way to live. Alongside a cat and a dog, of course. You’d have a black cat named Binx, and a golden retriever named Dug, something you two had discussed many times before. 

It’s beyond perfect. You lay on the couch, comfortably in Yunjins arms as a blanket is lazily draped over your forms. Binx is settled upon your lap as Dug takes up the space on the rug. The tv is playing Coraline— a staple movie for you two, and you'd smile. Yunjin would lovingly return the grin, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your lips.

And then you’d wake up, the grim reality of your situation compared to your dream sending tears flowing down your cheeks. You’re constantly reminded how Yunjin wasn't yours. Not in this lifetime. And it hurt more than anything else.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

You’ve always been there for Yunjin, both before and after she became famous.

In High school, you of course supported her throughout your brief time in the drama club. But you also provided a shoulder to cry on, a free source of math homework answers, a friend.

When she moved back to Korea to become a trainee, you helped her through the rough patches. Hours of dance training, rigorous workouts, and unhealthy dieting took a toll on her. But you were always there through the phone, no matter the time. 

Even after her debut, you remained loyally by her side. Yunjin grew busier and more distant over the years, and it was understandable. You were busy too. With college, internships, and general “adulting,” it was a challenge to remain in contact. Still, when you two did find time to talk, Yunjin would tell you stories of her members, of the rumors and scandals that would plague the group. It hurt to see her hurting, especially knowing you couldn't be there for her like before. But you were glad to see her achieving all she wanted and more.

You hop into one of Yunjins late night livestreams (even if it was the morning for you.) It wasn’t like you couldn’t just call her whenever you wanted, but it was just another one of the little things you would do to continuously support your friend. Yunjin never made a scene whenever you popped in, but always made sure to look for your comments and read them out every single time.

“Sing something from Phantom or you’re lame?” She reads out, a soft laugh slipping past her lips as she does so.

The idol gives the camera a knowing look, one that only could be read by you, and you smile as she clears her throat. Phantom of the Opera is what brought you two together, after all. She spends a few minutes doing short vocal exercises to warm up her voice, and the sight is oddly nostalgic. Yunjin then sits up straight as she begins to sing, and you feel your heart twinge slightly at her song choice.

“Think of me,

Think of me fondly,

When we've said goodbye.

Remember me,

Once in a while,

Please promise me you'll try.” 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Now here you were, in a completely foreign country, placed in more than accommodating seats within the VIP section of this unfamiliar venue you’ve never even heard of before. There were hordes of men around you, all cheering in a deep voiced mass for the girls on stage. You stuck out like a sore thumb. Yet, there was Yunjin. You watch her, shining brightly on stage whilst donning a fresh head of bright orange hair. It suited her. Her fiery passion, her fierce determination that got her here in the first place, her glowing smile. It was all only a physical expression of who she was on the inside.

Yunjin had insisted on getting you these tickets– even going out of her way to even cover part of your plane ticket here despite you having a very stable and office job now. You tried to tell her you were happy enough to see her from the nosebleed seats in the back, especially since it was all you could afford on such short notice. But she refused, pulling some strings to give you the best seats possible. She wanted you here. More than anyone else.

You’ve seen Yunjin perform before. How could you not? You could vividly recall the way she would sing out and capture the entire crowd’s attention from the stage of your high school’s auditorium. How she would perform with such confidence and precision, how she performed like she was made for this. 

Things have changed a lot since then. There was no business college in your future together anymore. No planned dorms together. No more late night talks. No 7-eleven snack runs. Yet oddly enough, despite the changes, this was seemingly no different than before. Every person in the crowd was entranced, immediately allured by her natural charm and her passionate voice. You included. Just like those many years before, she still managed to have you bewitched on the sidelines while she chases after the spotlight.

So you cheer. Joining the roaring crowd as you call out Yunjins name, a bright smile playing on your lips as you do so. You’ve always been her biggest fan, after all. You swear you saw her make eye contact with you, seemingly providing her an energy boost as she sings out to the audience. She was beautiful, and she knew it.

Once the show is over, you find your way to the backstage area. You tried your best to explain to the security how you were friends with one of the members, and how she invited you back there. Unfortunately, your Korean was less than conversational, and you pretty much looked like an embarrassingly desperate and obsessive fan until Chaewon came and saved the day.

“y/n-nnie! Come, Come!! I saw you in the crowd!!” She chirps out sweetly, abruptly pushing past the guard and dragging you backstage, leaving the security both confused and a bit exhausted. This might not have been the first time the girls have tried to meet with their friends after performances.

There were people everywhere. Stage hands, stylists, makeup artists, and more, all rushing around you two and occasionally praising Chaewon. You felt beyond out of place, and probably looked the part too. Despite having Yunjin as a friend, you’ve never once felt like you were friends with a celebrity. She was simply your Jennifer, and that was more than enough. Being here though, you could truly see the extent of the impact she had on people. How so many people respected her and admired her.

Lost within your thoughts and observations of the crowd, you barely notice when Chaewon lets go of your arm, leaving you to fall victim to a bright orange mass stampeding your way. Without warning, you’re tackled into a hug by none other than Yunjin herself. You swear you see stars as the air gets forced out of your lungs.

“y/n!! You made it!!” She beams, giving you a firm squeeze pulling away to fully take in the sight of you. Her arms are still firmly wrapped around your form as her eyes almost sparkled with pure affection for you. Your cheeks warm at the contact, and you can't help but shyly avoid her gaze. Even after all of this time, she still has the same effect on you. After letting out a soft breath, she quietly murmurs, “I was singing for you, y’know.”

And your heart aches. Aches for what you two could have had. Aches for feelings she chooses not to reciprocate. You want to be angry with her. Despise her for leaving you behind and living this luxurious celebrity life. 

Yet your heart also swells. Swells with pure affection for the girl you love. The way she holds you, how she insists on having you attend, how sweetly she says your name. All of it makes you crumble all too easily. She truly cares for you, and never let the fame change that. You truly were lucky to have her.

“Really, now? You sure you weren't singing for the sea of men you forced me to sit with?” You laugh out, gently shoving her, “I swear I heard a guy say he ditched a family dinner to be there.”

Yunjin loudly laughs at your comment as she shakes her head, “How about you come over to our dorms to celebrate tonight, yeah? We’ll even let you pick a movie – or I’ll make them watch whatever you choose… Please?”

You were a bit hesitant. These were Yunjin’s friends. You didn’t want to intrude, especially after a crazy night like this. Yet, despite your reluctance, Yunjin stares down at you with those damn puppy eyes, and somehow manages to get Eunchae and Chaewon to join in…

“... Okay, fine,” you groan out, feigning disappointment as you see Yunjins eyes light up. “but we’re watching Coraline.”

The girls all cheer and pull you into a tight hug, with Yunjin holding onto you just a bit tighter than the others.

Huh Yunjin loves you. But not in the way you want. Yunjin wants you to be loved. 

And loved you are, even if it means she can't be yours.

[psychesalcove]

Congrats for the 100 followers can I have a Percy Jackson x reader you look so comfy; and cuddle-able."? Please 🌸

✧.* percy jackson x gn reader

my writes are body and race type friendly (unless stated in title) so feel free to interact:)

part of psyches, 'in memory of those who chose the sea' event !

-> want to participate in the event?

an: i'm so so sorry for not posting anything for almost a week,, ive been super busy with appointments and sport team stuff for the upcoming school year so it's just been rlly chaotic in my life lmao. hope you enjoy, i think this prompt rlly fits percy!! love ya 🩷

you clicked the remote to pause the movie playing as you heard the door to the apartment open; knowing that it was percy getting back from class. you had managed to get all fridays off first semester, a fortune percy wasn't able to have.

you heard his keys be thrown somewhere in the hallway as percys voice rang throughout the apartment. 'gods, please teach me your ways of scheduling classes babe,' he half yelled, still being in the hallway.

you breathed out a laugh through your nose. 'maybe don't sleep in on the day you chose class time?' you joked (percy did sleep in on said day).

you heard him scoff from somewhere behind you, so sooner feeling his arms wrap around your upper half from behind the sofa. 'hi, you.' he said lightly as he put his face into your hair. 'your hair smells nice,' he mumbled.

'i would hope so,' you laughed. 'i took a shower a couple of hours ago.'

percy clicks his tongue. 'makes sense, your strawberry shampoo is the best,' he said, removing himself from you and walking into the kitchen. 'is there any of the jello left?' he asked as you heard the refrigerator door open.

you didn't get the chance to reply before you heard the sound of rummaging; which was percy grabbing a spoon and getting the bowl of jello out.

as percy walked back into the living room, he paused before getting onto the sofa. you raised an eyebrow at him as he stood there watching you. 'what?'

he blinked and smiled at you, letting you see his dimples. 'nothin', he hummed. 'you just, you look so comfy; and cuddle-able' he said as he sat on the sofa.

'would've been you to if you didn't sleep in,' you laughed, looking at percy who stared back at you with a deadpan look.

'you're not getting any jello.' he said as he took a spoonful of it and shoved it into his mouth.

'you probably spilled most of the jello sitting on the couch, perce.'

[starfilmz]

THERE SHE GOES — DEAN F.

⤷ Just tooth-rotting fluff of you talking to Dean Forrester for the first time. ᡣ𐭩

cw: fem!reader, so much fluff and sweetness, just reader being a girl, this is s1 dean since he’s the only i’ve seen, no rory au lmao, unbeta’d so grammar and spelling mistakes are probably there, english is not my first language :,) banner || gif

“Here are the keys, darlin’.” The item jingled in between Ms. Patty’s fingers as it landed on your palms, barely catching it from falling on the piles of snow on the ground. You were never really the graceful one. It took you about a year of living in Stars Hallow to get used to Ms. Patty’s natural whimsicalness and spontaneous energy—you’re not getting any smoother by the days.

You shoved the keys down your pocket, watching as she walked down the small set of stairs. “You’re closing a bit earlier today. Something happened?”

“Tomorrow’s Bid on a Basket, honey! I gotta make my own set for the wonderful event—maybe I’ll be able to enjoy some of my fresh cakes with a fine man,” Ms. Patty winked, giggling to herself. “A lot of people are joinin', I heard. Are you not participating?”

Your mouth contorted into a mixture of a smile and a frown—if that was even possible—as you awkwardly chuckled. “Probably not this time, Ms. Patty.”

As much as you wished to join the fundraiser, most of your free time in the morning was consumed with homework and your jobs. Your mom’s decision to switch jobs last month caused a bit of a financial strain in the family, resulting in you taking on more jobs as she adjusted to her new work.

“I’m working a shift at Luke’s tomorrow. I won’t have the time to make the food and hang out with the lucky bidder.” Your lips formed into a straight line as you looked at her. “Who’s always been my mom, anyway.”

“Don’t be so down, honey. I’m sure there’s a special boy who’s willing to pay for your basket.”

“That’s not—”

“I heard the new boy in your school started working in the grocery store a few weeks ago. Maybe he had some paychecks to spare.”

You snorted at her words. “Ms. Patty, c’mon.”

She had a proud expression as she finally took off, leaving you by yourself at the studio. “See you tomorrow, honey.” You waved goodbye as she left. She was truly an unpredictable woman—you would be lying if you said you didn’t wish to have at least a quarter of her confidence.

You knew of this ‘new boy’ she was talking about. Stars Hallow High School was not big enough for mystery; everyone knows each other if not by name, face, or by being their parents’ friend’s kid. Dean Forester joined a month into the semester, and you were surprised he wasn’t as popular as you expected him to be. But, at the same time, if it weren’t your shared classes with him, you barely saw the boy outside the building.

Lane, one of your childhood friends, was particularly fond of Dean’s friend, Todd. There were moments where you wished you could join on in your friend’s excitement, but—as Lane had commented several times—you were too busy making money to even notice the boys around you. But one single afternoon in between classes, you caught yourself staring far too intensely at Dean when he passed by the hallway when he suddenly met your eyes. You couldn’t recall what you did when it happened, just that it resulted in a startled Lane and a booming sound of your locker closing.

Have you been purposely avoiding him ever since? Yes. It’s not like the two of you talked anyway. Though it didn’t help when you began noticing him in Doose’s market more often than you liked.

You sighed, shaking your head at the one-sided chaos you’ve managed to create in the midst of the boy’s arrival. You weren’t exactly “boy crazy” as Lane’s mom would call the girls in your school, but you’re literally just a girl.

“God forbid I find a guy attractive.” You mumbled to yourself as you began to close the doors of Ms. Patty’s studio. The children had ballet today, so there were twice the amount of tutus inside; an array of pinks, blues, and whites decorated the wooden floors.

As you cleaned up the rest of the clutter, closing boxes and stacking them in the same way you saw them last night, you noticed one particular box was by the door, the heaviest one.

Inside were miscellaneous items (you’re sure some of them were lost as well) and you’ve experienced several aging moments after carrying them all the way to where they should be in the studio—the opposite side of the room.

You stifled a sigh, rolling up the sleeves of your sweater as you crouched down. Whatever was inside the box, new or not, doubled the weight you carried yesterday, and you prayed this wouldn’t be the reason you’ll hurt your back.

Just as you were about to put your hands on the bottom of the box, you heard footsteps on the wooden stairs; one of the hinges on the doors creaked. You had no time to look up and see who it was before you heard the unfamiliar voice.

“Need any help?” Without warning, a face you’ve been dreading to see came into view. His hair fell on both sides of his head as he lowered himself in front of you and the large box.

Dean grinned, his pearly whites showing themselves, and God, why did he have such eye-catching dimples?

You were sure something in your head was short-circuited because of how much you stumbled on your reply. “I- yes, I guess, if you want to- it’s totally up to you, if you want… to help.”

He chuckled at your response, and you can’t really blame him for that, but you decided to ignore the gnawing embarrassment you felt as you laughed along with him. It was the first you’ve ever heard his laugh—his voice in general, actually—and somehow, with your logic, you thought it fitted him perfectly.

You saw his arm move around behind the box in between the two of you, as if looking for something underneath. Dean still had a smile on his face as he readjusted himself on the floor, mimicking your crouched position. It took you by surprise to feel his hand on yours, and you had to fight back the urge to flinch.

“Here, take both of your hands under these corners, and I’ll take the opposite,” Dean instructed, moving your hands into position. You brushed off the thought of how his hands consumed yours. “then we’ll stand up on three.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of the box shift as he adjusted his grip. “One… two… three.” The two of you rose together, the box hovering between you, expectedly heavy but manageable as you moved in sync.

The two of you placed the box on the ground with a huff. You had to stretch your back as you stood up. Dean was doing the same thing, though his expression seemingly filled with amusement. He doesn’t say anything and you raised an eyebrow at this.

“What?” You said, pulling down your sleeves.

Dean shook his head. “It’s nothing. I, um, wasn’t expecting to see you here. Do you work for Ms. Patty?”

You caught the way he changed the subject, but decided to leave it alone for now. “Aren’t we all?”

This caused a chuckle from him as he scratched the back of his neck. “That’s true. I still haven’t thanked her for getting me a job at Doose’s.”

Dean followed you around the studio as you continued to pick up props and tutus off of the floor. He would grab what looked out of place and parroted where you’d place them. You didn’t protest at his presence—as much as you wanted to for the sake of your own mental health—and allowed him to help along. Besides, you didn’t have the heart to kick him out, and while your brain protested, your heart wasn’t exactly against Dean.

“The best thank you you could give her is probably keeping the job she gave you,” you joked and followed up with, “and bid on her basket.”

As you chucked the last baton inside with the others, you turned around and almost bumped into Dean with how close he was.

“Wish I could, but I was told to go do a quick morning shift just in case people would do their last minute baking.” He tilted his head slightly, his voice filled with humor.

“Sounds great. Let me know if you need a morning boost; I’ll be at Luke’s serving the best coffee around.”

Dean nodded, a grin making its way to his face, and said, “I’ll make sure to visit.” There was a few seconds of silence before he picked up his eyes to look at you. “You’re not going to do a basket?”

“No, not this year. Life’s been busting my tail lately, so I don’t really have the time.” You shrugged, putting your hands behind your back as you awkwardly leaned against one of the wooden boxes.

“That’s a shame,” Dean replied, walking over to your side to rest his back on one of the boxes as well. Your shoulders touched—specifically your shoulder against the side of his upper arm—and it all dawned on you at how tall he was.

You turned your head to look at him, failing to hide your surprise when he was already looking over at you.

“A shame? How so?”

“I’d bid the highest, for sure. Just hanging out with your famous cupcakes Lane talked about.”

You’ve recalled several instances in your life when you were physically stunned at a person, but none of them could compare to what’s happening. Dean’s eyes were still on you, waiting for a reaction, a response, literally anything, and yet you just stood there like a flustered child receiving your first love letter.

It’s a lot more important to remember that you’ve never spoken to this boy before. You knew one day your worlds would collide eventually in the small town of Stars Hollow, but you’ve never realized it was happening right under your nose.

And since when Dean and Lane talked?

You and her were always attached to the hip, telling each other every single little detail about the in-between moment of the day when the two of you weren’t together. She’s never mentioned talking to Dean about you.

“You don’t need to spend money to hang out with me.” was the next best thing of a response you could think of. “I mean, you’re doing it right now.”

Dean chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“And if you wanted to try my cookies, try visiting Luke’s,” you added, having a little bit more confidence in your tone this time. “But you have to buy them at the exact time we opened; there’s a reason why Lane calls it famous.”

A grin was on your face as soon as you heard his laugh. Your previous panic seemed to die down as a calm silence washed over you two. The doors to the studio were still wide open, letting in the cold breeze of the night brush past you and Dean.

The sweater you wore didn’t help your spine from shivering. You wore whatever you saw first in your closet when Ms. Patty called, and you weren’t exactly planning to stay for this long.

The sound of rustling made you look over at Dean. “What are you doing?”

He took his leather jacket off of him, that boyish smile on his face again, as he placed it on your shoulder. “I heard it’s going to be especially cold tonight.”

You made no effort to protest as his hands gently tucked the jacket on your shoulders, brushing some of your hair on the back of your ears. The freezing temperature inside the studio only made the heat on your cheeks twice as noticeable.

Dean patted you down, in attempt to warm you up, before retracting his hands to his side. “Better?”

You snuggled further into the leather jacket, taking in the familiar musk you’ve been smelling since the boy got here. “Yeah. Thank you, Dean.”

Maybe skipping one shift at Luke’s wouldn’t hurt.

[astonmartinii]

can i pls request an insta au for max verstappen where the reader is a professor??

teacher's pet | max verstappen instagram au

pairing: max verstappen x professor!reader

redbullracing

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 708,563 others

tagged: yourusername, maxverstappen1

redbullracing: happy national teacher's day! while we say a big thank you to all the teachers around the world we give a big shout out to our very own professor y/n who finally taught max something other than racing and the world map.

view all 27,056 comments

user12 omg this is so cute

maxybaby i wish we got to see more of y/n in the paddock but i get why we don't

danielricciardo happy national teacher's day y/n - i've got an apple with your name on it for the next time i see you

maxverstappen1 suck up

yourusername don't be mean maxy

user77 y/n breaking up fights in the comment section i can't

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 708,456 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: happy national teacher's day my love !! i know how hard you work everyday, so i wanted to help out where i could (also these textbooks are unreasonably expensive)

view all 34,023 comments

yourusername thank you so much maxy - we're all so grateful xx

yourstudent1 you're all of our sugar daddy now

yourusername lets not make it weird

user23 max's relationship with y/n has been the best pr red bull could've ever asked for

georgerussell63 and they call me the teacher's pet

user14 LMAO GEORGE

pierregasly not on the wholesome post bro

christianhorner geri and the kids would like to know when you're next over for dinner?

yourusername easter is good for us !

user3 not them making plans in the comments

yourusername added to their story

[caption: weekends off with you]

danielricciardo added to their story

[caption: when did air max become a school bus?]

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 103,899 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: end of semester trip to zandvoort !! these guys annoyed me all term but in the end they deserve everything - plus points for max winning his home race xx

view all 11,067 comments

maxverstappen1 i don't know what you mean about them being annoying - they were angels, i do wonder where all of my champagne went though ?

yourusername they're students they'll take any free alcohol they can get

yourstudent1 love you max - can you pay off my student loans?

yourstudent2 and mine?

yourstudent3 and mine?

yourstudent4 and mine?

yourusername he didn't even pay off mine he's not going to pay off yours and STOP TRYING TO MAKE MY BOYFRIEND YOUR SUGAR DADDY

user46 wtf is happening in this comment section

maxverstappen1 added to their story

[caption: max u can have ur phone back if you pay off our loans]

yourusername added to their story

[caption: i'm never taking them anywhere ever again]

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 1,012,451 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: happy anniversary my love - you're a massive inspiration to me and keep me going despite being so busy yourself, you have so much knowledge and love and patience (your students are insane) xx

view all 31,067 comments

yourusername i love you maxy xx

danielricciardo haps anniversary you two - double date soon?

yourusername done.

maxverstappen1 done.

redbullracing congrats parents

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, yourstudent1 and 108,675 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: happy graduation to my class !! you guys have given me hundreds of grey hairs, sleepless nights and a coffee addicition, HOWEVER, i'm so so proud of all of you and can't wait to see what you do in the future (stop asking my boyfriend to pay off your loans)

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yourstudent1 i miss you already :(

maxverstappen1 was an honour to help give out degrees to the inspiring (and annoying) next generation

yourusername thank you maxy

danielricciardo so like when are you proposing?

charles_leclerc did you just spoil her own proposal?

maxverstappen1 ur so dumb i can't

yourusername added to their story

[caption: sunset walks]

maxverstappen1

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maxverstappen1: max verstappen-y/n and professor y/n verstappen-y/ln reporting for duty

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yourusername love you so so much

user45 OMG PARENTS

yourstudent1 do we get to come to the wedding?

danielricciardo CONGRATS MAXY ONLY TOOK YOU 6 YEARS

christianhorner congratulations you two - christian, geri and the kids xx

note: hope you enjoyed - i took a lot of creative liberty so i hope it's okay xx

[madaqueue]

Practice Makes Perfect | Chapter 1

synopsis: you and yuji have been best friends basically as long as you can remember, and you made a promise to each other to stay friends and help each other be the best versions of yourselves for your future partners. but will things change when yuji finally starts looking for a relationship?

pairing: yuji itadori (18+) x f!reader

themes/content: modern college au (characters aged up to 18+). fluff, angst, language. kissing, mention of over-clothes grinding. 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.3k

a/n: baby's first multi-chapter fic, please be nice or i'll cry :) thx. also this will eventually get more intense, but we're starting light teehee

series masterlist | next chapter

You and Yuji Itadori have been friends your whole lives. You remember the day you first met on the playground in elementary school where you both insisted on racing each other to decide who got to use the tire swing first, and when you came in a dead tie you both refused to concede and ended up sitting on the swing together for the rest of recess. You stayed close as you grew up, often having sleepovers at each other's houses every weekend and spending almost every day together in and outside of school.

On one of these sleepovers while you were both sophomores in high school, you got around to discussing your first kisses and realized neither of you had had yours yet. You both agreed it wouldn't be weird to kiss each other and went for it; the only problem was that it was awful. From that day forward you both vowed to stay friends, but help each other practice all that romance stuff for whenever either of you wanted to actually date someone.

It was a miracle when you both ended up getting accepted to the same college, since one of you (*cough* Yuji) definitely slacked off a little more in high school, but you were so excited to get to spend the next four years with him.

The first semester of college went by quickly and you didn’t get to see each other too often since you came in as an engineering major and he was slowly working his way through business classes. Even though you hadn’t spent as much time together, you’d still get texts from him every few days with some stupid meal concoction he’d made in his dorm kitchen and you’d send each other TikToks that made you laugh. You let yourself fall into a rhythm between classes, homework, and exams, until one Wednesday evening you get an unexpected notification lighting up your phone:

Yuji: “heyy, come over? got a question to ask you”

The message sent butterflies through your stomach for some reason; you two hadn’t seen each other for a few weeks, and his text was much more direct than you expected. Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you think of how to respond.

You: “okayy, be over in 5. should I bring anything?”

His response almost immediately appears under yours:

Yuji: “just yourself, sweets ;)”

The nickname caught you a bit off guard and you questioned what to say next before another text came up:

Yuji: “sorry, don’t know why I said that lmao. see you soon :)”

You sigh and lock your phone, setting it down on the bed beside you before standing up and sliding your shoes, tossing on a sweatshirt on top of your leggings and cropped t-shirt before heading out.

—

You stand outside his dorm, looking at the “Yuji” name sign made out of construction paper taped to his door. Below it was a mini whiteboard he had put up that had some less-than-tasteful drawings and the note “Itadori + Fushiguro” written on it surrounded by hearts. You rolled your eyes as you knocked, the door immediately swinging open as you were greeted by the pink-haired boy wearing his standard red hoodie and jeans combo, looking down on you with a huge grin on his face.

“Welcome, welcome!” he said with a smile, ushering you inside. You looked around and realized you had never actually been in his dorm before - whenever you hung out last semester it was always at cafes, the library, or a party, but never in either of your rooms. You look around and appreciate that he actually managed to make the small space kind of nice. You smirk at the dark blue bedding on his twin size mattress and pinup posters adorning his walls as the LEDs lining the room cast a blue glow across everything.

“You like it?” Yuji asked, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“It’s very…hmm…how do I say this…you,” you say with a smirk.

He giggles as he flops down on the bed. “Well, you did always know me well.”

You kick off your shoes and sit down onto the bed next to him. “So, what’d you have to ask me?” you question as you turn to face him.

“Right!” he exclaims, hopping off the bed to stand in front of you. “Remember when we were younger and we promised to help each other practice all the romance stuff so we’d be ready for when we get in a real relationship?” You nod as he continues. “Well, I think I might finally be ready to kick things off, and I sorta need your help with the whole practice thing.”

You freeze. This was the last thing on your mind when you came over. You hadn’t even seen Yuji in almost a month, and this is the first thing he says to you? How could he even remember that stupid deal you had made after your horrible first kiss with each other?

Your thoughts suddenly come to a halt as you realize what this might mean. “Wait,” you start, looking up at him from the bed, “does this mean you have a crush on someone?”

Yuji’s face turns red as he breaks eye contact and looks down at the ground, one arm reaching up behind his head to scratch his undercut. “Um, kinda, I think so,” he says as he grins sheepishly. “There’s a girl in one of my classes, and we’ve hung out a few times for this group project, and-“

“And you want my help making sure you know what you’re doing, right?” you cut him off. He looks back up at you, cheeks still red, and nods slightly. “Wait,” you think out loud, “does that mean you haven’t kissed anyone since then?”

His face flushes again and his eyes shoot back to the ground as he mumbles “No.”

You chuckle softly as you get up to meet him in the middle of the room, throwing your arms around his neck and tilting his chin so you’re making eye contact. You’re not sure where the sudden confidence comes from, but it just feels natural for you in that moment. In all honesty, you actually hadn’t kissed anyone since then either - you just hadn’t seen the need - but Yuji doesn’t need to know that. You gaze into his soft brown eyes as he nervously bites his lip, waiting for your response to his confession.

“Don’t worry Yu, that’s okay,” you whisper, your lips nearly grazing his, “we can practice together.”

Yuji nearly squeals with excitement, dissipating any tension or romance that was building between you two. “Yay! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he exclaims as he wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you up in the air and spinning you around. He sets you down but his hands don’t leave your hips as he looks down at you expectantly. “Okay, where do we start?” he practically beams down at you.

You pause to think for a moment before responding. “Well, we should probably figure out where you’re starting so we can work on what actually needs to be improved.”

“Works for me!” he says, picking you up again with ease as he walks towards his bed. Your legs wrap around his waist for stability as he sits down with his back against the headboard and you in his lap. The position also gave you butterflies for some reason, which was odd since the two of you used to sit like this all the time - you in Yuji’s lap during car rides when there wasn’t enough space, your head laying across his chest while you watched movies, or even his head resting on your stomach while you tried to braid his hair. But for some reason, this time felt different, maybe because you knew what was about to happen.

“Ready?” he asked with a smile. You nod, trying to mentally prepare yourself for what you expect is going to be a repeat of your last horrible kiss. “Okay, let’s do this,” Yuji says with a soft sigh, still smiling, and you try not to laugh at his lack of seriousness about the whole situation. But before you can react, his hand reaches up to your cheek and his eyes flutter closed as he leans towards you. You let your eyes shut as his soft lips press against yours. He holds himself there for a moment before beginning to gently suck on your bottom lip. The unexpected action causes you to open your mouth slightly in surprise, and he takes the opportunity to gently slide his tongue between your lips. Your tongues meet as he gently explores your mouth with his. His hand moves from your cheek to the back of your neck, holding you close to him. At the same time, one of your hands slides up from his hips to the back of his hair and you run your fingers over the softness of his freshly-trimmed undercut.

You start to feel yourself get lightheaded as the kiss gets sloppier and Yuji shows no sign of letting up. You begin to pull yourself away to catch your breath but just as you feel the air hit your lungs he uses the hand on your neck to gently push you back towards his slightly parted lips. It’s almost as if he couldn’t stand to spend a second separated from you and you willingly lean back in as he gets more eager, his tongue effortlessly slipping back into your mouth. The action elicits a soft moan from you, and you feel heat building between your legs. Your hips almost start grinding against the boy beneath you before you remember who it is - your best friend. You open your eyes suddenly and pull away from the kiss, Yuji loosening his hold on the back of your neck as a thin thread of your shared saliva temporarily connects your lips. You are met with those sweet, brown eyes, his cheeks flushed and lips pink from the intense kiss you suddenly pulled him away from.

As your brain clears, the first thing you’re able to say to him is “What the hell?”

“What, was it alright?” he hums back through a smile.

“That was m-more than alright, there’s no way that’s only your second time ever doing that!” you stutter, trying to get the words out.

He shrugs, “What can I say? Sometimes I’m just a natural.”

You start to sit up more and lean back off his lap, when there’s a sudden noise at the door. “Dude c’mon, hop on Discord, we’re gonna play some ranked matches.” The door handle turns as the sentence finishes, and in steps a man dressed in all black with his short black hair fanning out in every direction. He takes in the scene in front of him with you and Yuji sitting on the bed and he immediately covers his eyes with his hands. “S-shit, I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t know you had someone over and I-“ he stutters as you watch his ears turn red from embarrassment.

“No need to apologize my dear friend!” Yuji proclaims as he hops off the bed, clearly no longer thinking about the intense moment you two just shared. He turns to you while gesturing towards the clearly distressed man in the doorway. “This is Fushiguro!” he yells, almost too loudly, with a smile plastered on his face.

Once the man in the door realizes that Yuji has no plans to provide any more information, he removes his hands from his eyes and politely waves at you from across the room. “Um, hi. Yeah, I’m Megumi Fushiguro, but you can just call me Megumi. I live across the hall from Yuji,” he explains, pointing over his shoulder at the door to his room.

You introduce yourself and give a little wave back. “Oh, wait a minute, you’re the Fushiguro that’s on Yuji’s sign on his door, right?” you say with a little laugh, remembering the whiteboard you saw on your way in.

“That's the one! Isn’t he charming?” Yuji sing-speaks as he practically skips towards Megumi. 

The boy in black seems less than impressed with the situation and rolls his eyes. “Yep, that’s me. Again though, you can call me Megumi. I don’t know why Yuji insists on calling me by my last name, I mean we’re basically the same age-”

“Because I just loooooove your name!” Yuji exclaims, now standing next to Megumi and batting his eyelashes dramatically at him. Megumi responds by holding a hand out to his side and gently shoving Yuji, who dramatically pretends to slide down against the wall with a pout.

“Anyways, I was gonna play some video games, but if you guys are busy we can do it another night,” Megumi explains.

“Nah don’t worry, I should probably head home anyways and make some dinner, I’ll leave you boys to it,” you say as you stand up to put your sweatshirt back on, trying to ignore the pulsing between your legs.

Still sitting on the ground, Yuji chimes in, “Aww, you don’t want me to make you dinner here?”

“I don’t think I want to eat the things you make if they’re anything like the meals you’ve been sending me over the past semester,” you preempt.

“Oh man, he’s shown you those too?” Megumi responds with a smirk as he reaches a hand out to help Yuji off the floor.

Yuji stands up proudly, stating “You guys just don’t understand my culinary genius.”

“I wouldn’t call a strawberry Poptart with cheese on it ‘culinary genius,’” you say with a chuckle as a pout returns to Yuji’s face. You put your shoes on and slide past the boys in the doorway. “Anyways, goodnight Yuji, and it was nice to meet you Megumi!” you wave back at them from the hallway.

—

When you get back to your dorm, you’re finally able to process the events that just took place. All you’re left with is more questions.

When did he learn how to kiss like that? How did he learn how to kiss like that? And why do you want more of it so badly?

series masterlist | next chapter

[cstlji]

friday nights || byun baekhyun

1:34 AM 250424 

word count: longer than i expected

pairing: byun baekhyun x reader (ft. im changkyun)

description: baekhyun ignores you for an entire week, and you don't know why.

genre: bestfriends to lovers!au, jealous!baekhyun, mutual pining, angst-ish, fluff after lmao

a/n: kinda rushed ending (?) lmk if you guys want a part 2 or a longer version!

You and Baekhyun have been best friends ever since you both got stood up by your dates on prom night. You vividly remember Baekhyun's reaction as your dates began making out in the middle of the dancefloor, leaving you both partnerless — and almost miserable. So, you invited him that exact moment to ditch the night and have some fun of your own, basically and invitation to sit on the gutter as you eat your melting ice cream.

But, that was a story for another time - now you’re in your third year of college. Your friendship’s been that long, and you swore, the last time you checked, the platonic energy between the both of you was almost tangible. Although you had a moments when romantic thoughts about him invaded your mind.

You swore it were mere milliseconds, though – and that you didn't think about how his hands could perfectly fit in yours and, how sweet his lips would've tasted like. Nothing of that sort, really. You knew that the both of you were awfully platonic, and nothing more. You didn't want to entertain thoughts of you and him together romantically, because it would never happen. Plus, you went out on a date last week.

You and Changkyun were totally hitting it off. And you would've told Baekhyun about him, but he's been ignoring you for the past 5 days. No calls, texts, nothing. Everytime you'd visit him on his breaks, he's always be out, or busy, or just not in the mood — which rarely happened.

So, you planned to corner him into telling you what's wrong. You really had no clue, but you've got a feeling that it had something to do with you. It was your break, and you checked your phone for Baekhyun's schedule. You both exchanged schedules the beginning of the semester, which is also probably why he'd been successful in avoiding you.

There was an overlap between your schedules. His class would end at around the same time as yours would start. But you were really determined to know what the hell's wrong you could just be late to class for a couple of minutes. And after a long, painful wait — catch him, you did.

He walked out with two of his friends, who you knew as Minseok and Jongdae. It was Minseok who spotted you first. He called Baekhyun and pointed at your direction.

"Hey, Y/N." Minseok waved at you, and so did Jongdae. You smiled and waved back as Baekhyun's eyes widened.

"Go on first, I'll catch up later." He told his friends, his eyes avoiding your gaze. The two walked off after saying goodbye.

"What are you doing here?" Baekhyun held your arm, gently pulling you to the side.

"You were avoiding me for a week, what's up?" You asked, eyeing him carefully. He reached to the nape of his neck. He removed his cap, fixed his hair, and put it back again.

"I... wasn't avoiding you," he said, still avoiding your eyes. You weren't convinced, so you pulled his face to meet yours.

"There, see!" you exclaimed, "you avoided my eyes again. What's wrong, Baek?"

"Nothing," he muttered. He glanced down his wristwatch, and urged you to move. "You're literally five minutes late to your class, get moving dumbass."

"No, I'm not leaving 'til you tell me what's wrong. Is it something I said? or did? Or, like, did something happen to your family? Come on, talk to me, don't shut me out like this."

You were honestly nervous, you feared that the friendship you had would be gone in a blink if you didn't do this.

Baekhyun sighed, and met your eyes. You heart dropped to your stomach. It felt different from his usual teasing glints, there were hints of longing. His eyes glossed a little, eyes bloodshot red. You immediately reached to his face, and his eyes closed and he leaned to your touch.

"Baek," you sighed softly, "have you not been sleeping?"

"Mmhm," Baekhyun hummed, hand on top of your hand on his cheek. "Let's...talk later." His eyes met yours this time.

You nodded with a soft, gentle smile. "Of course. Come over later? Let's watch a movie tonight." Your thumb ghosted over his cheek.

"But that's for Friday?"

You swore you saw Baekhyun frown a little from the loss of touch as you retreat your hand from his cheek, but you decided you were just crazy and that it wasn't like that.

You shrug, hands on your pocket. "We could do it like, two days earlier, it's fine."

"Why? So you could ditch on me and go on a date again?" He blurted out.

You audibly gasp, earning stares from passerbys. Your hand flew to your open mouth. "What do you mean? I didn't ditch you, I asked you if it was okay and you said yes!"

"I didn't!"

"You did! I even have the text messages here if you need refreshments, dude."

"Don't dude me, Y/N," Baekhyun groaned, rubbing his face roughly. It was an a look of frustration, and you felt it was directed to you.

"Is this why you're mad at me? Because you thought I ditched you?" Your voice slightly trembled. Now you were frustrated and confused.

"No!" he abruptly said, "No, I'm - I'm not mad at you, I just, Friday nights are for us," You internally winced, because you took that in way that isn't how friends should take it as.

"And you — "

"Baekhyun-ah!" You both looked at the direction of the voice. It was Junmyeon who called out with a smile as he approached you. "Oh hey, Y/N, what's up?"

You smiled and tried to push the argument you just had at the back of your mind. "Hi, oppa."

Baekhyun sighed, "What's wrong, hyung?"

"I couldn't find Chanyeol, he told me he'd be with you." Junmyeon's lips parted a lottle, "Did I interrupt you guys?"

"Yeah, we're kinda bu—" You interrupted Baekhyun.

"We just finished talking, oppa," you glance at your watch to avoid Baekhyun's intense gaze. "I have to get to class, I'm suuuper late. See you later!" You waved Junmyeon goodbye, and turned away quickly.

You hear Baekhyun call to you as the distance grew farther. You didn't want to lose Baekhyun over a fight like this, especially when you thought of him in a different light yet again.

~ • ~

Baekhyun's heart broke a little as he looked at you walk away. He let out a heavy sigh as he massaged his eyebrows.

Junmyeon noticed. "Are you good?"

Baekhyun looked up at him and nodded yes. Junmyeon was not convinced though, but he decided not to push it. "Come on, let's meet them."

Baekhyun stayed silent. He moved on autopilot, basically just following Junmyeon's footsteps — but not before looking back to the place you once stood at.

The guys laughed loudly in the middle of the restaurant. Baekhyun and Junmyeon settled down, "Did you get food already?" asked Junmyeon.

"We ordered pasta and pizza, you could order more if you want to, though," Minseok said. "It's Jongdae's treat for missing the last get together."

"Nice."

The guys continued to talk, and joke around. Food kept arriving at their table, and everyone dug in except Baekhyun. He was staring at nothing, just picking on his food with a fork.

"Hyung, are you okay?" Jongin nudged Baekhyun. He looked up, and forced a smile.

"Yeah, of course." There was a moment of silence before Chanyeol broke the ice.

"You guys remember Changkyun?” He asked. Baekhyun’s ears perked up, the name was familiar. Too familiar, in fact. His eyebrows knitted tightly, he couldn’t help it.

“What about him?” Sehun popped a fry in his mouth. Lay tilted his head slightly.

“He’s throwing a party tonight, he invited us.”

“What’s his business inviting us? We don’t even know him,” Baekhyun bitterly spat and did not go unnoticed by his friends.

Chanyeol and Junmyeon exchanged glances with Kyungsoo, who sighed and said, “We can just not go, it’s not a big deal.”

Baekhyun just drew a big sigh and ruffled his hair. To say he was pissed was an understatement. He’d been so bothered about you dating other guys, and he hated the fact that he couldn’t even tell it to you directly.

After all, you both agreed on staying strictly platonic after having witnessed your sister and her then bestfriend get married and divorced on the same year.

“What’s with you, Hyung? You rarely act this way,” Jongin asked, eyes full of concern.

Sehun snickered, “He always acts this way whenever a certain someone’s involved.”

Minseok hummed in agreement. Baekhyun groaned as Kyungsoo spoke, “You mean Y/N?”

“Precisely,” Sehun confirmed with a smirk.

“Aren’t you strictly platonic?” Jongdae asked.

“Yes.” Sadly.

“Huh, so why are you jealous?” Kyungsoo asked.

“I am not jealous.” Lie.

“You definitely are.”

“I’m not.” Yes, he was.

“You like her, don’t you?”

“What?” Yes.

“You do!”

“What are you even —“

“Someone’s got a crush —!”

“I—“

“Just admit it, Hyung!”

“N —“

“Baekhyun —“

“I love her, damn it!”

Silence filled the table. Everyone suddenly laughed out loud after his outburst — they knew you got Baekhyun fucked up in the head and they love to see it.

Now, Baekhyun’s admitted it and there was no going back. He had avoided saying it for the longest time for the fear of it “coming true” when he knew that he had no say in his feelings from the get-go.

“Just tell her, confess, do something,” Kyungsoo said.

“That’s easier said than done.”

“Would you rather lose her to Changkyun?” Lay suddenly spoke up. Baekhyun looked at him, and he knew his hyung made a point. He had to do something.

~ • ~

Time went by fast, and it's been two days since you last saw Baekhyun. Still, no calls nor texts from Baekhyun. You were beginning to doubt your decision of avoiding the conversation — you start to think that you should've let him finish talking before walking out like that.

Is he gonna drop by tonight? It's literally friday, its — its your movie night. Or is he never gonna talk to you, and you end up losing the love of your life?

Wait, no. He's your bestfriend, so you love him, right? Its that kind of love that's purely platonic, isn't it? Plus, you had a date! And you totally hit it off, you swore to god.

Okay, maybe you lied. You and Changkyun were bonding over relationship traumas instead of building up a new relationship. You both had a cup of sweet tea, but the conversations you had left a bitter taste in both your mouths.

Changkyun also mentioned someone he liked, and was in fact, asking for advice. That's why you both set another date for tomorrow, solely for the sake of advices. Besides, you also enjoyed complaining to him about Baekhyun's annoying habits that you secretly liked.

You then pace back and forth, probably hyperventilating and on the verge of another panic attack. You bite on your nails as you watched a late night game show, or atleast tried to watch.

You couldn't focus on it. You sat down, your knees bounced up and down. So you stood, but you kept pacing back and forth. And you'd look at the television, but would later find yourself starting at the clock. You were so immersed that you failed to notice the numerous missed phone calls.

Until the door bell rang. You sprinted towards the door, opened it in one motion.

And there he was, holding a bouquet of roses. He offered a sheepish smile, and offered up the bouquet.

You didn't even realize you've been holding your breath 'til you saw him on your doorstep. You immediately engulfed him with a hug, your tears threatening to spill.

He hugged you back as he buried his face at the crook of your neck. You missed his scent, so much.

You pulled away, "I - I thought you wouldn't — "

He cut you off, "Don't go."

You look at him, confused. You wipe your tear-stained cheeks, settling your hands on his biceps. "What? What do you mean?"

"On that date," he said, eyes intensely on yours. "Don't go on that date, please."

"Well, that's for tomorrow still, I —"

"No, you don't understand. I," Baekhyun took a deep breath. "I don't just mean tonight. I mean, don't ever go on a date with another man. Please."

You were speechless as you watched Baekhyun frown in thought, trying to compose what he wanted to say.

“I,” he paused. He looked his shoes, and licked his lips in anticipation. “I get livid when I think of another man touching you, or holding your hands, and the mere thought of you kissing someone else makes me go insane, you have no idea.

“My heart races when our fingers touch, and I can’t help but want to kiss you when you do something childish. Or when you cry because of a stupid movie — I want to grow old with you, sit under a tree and watch as our children run across the fields. I — I love you. For the longest time, I’ve loved you. I love you, Y/N.”

You were speechless and shaking. Here was the man you longed for, confessing his love to you — and you couldn’t believe it. Your jaw drops, and he looked at you with great intent.

“I love you, too,” you said, tears rolling down your cheeks. “You dumb idiot, what took you so long? I kept it all in, I waited for you for so long! I —“

He captured your lips with his in the softest way possible. A moment lingers as he pulled away,

“I’m sorry for making you wait, Y/N. I —“

You pull him back in, deepening the kiss as you hook your arms around his neck — bodies flushed against each other. He dropped the bouquet, and put his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him.

“Shut up and kiss me, baby.” You said in between breaths and kisses.

[skzhua]

you are my safe haven ('your eyes' series)

♡ "You were the first person I thought of at the moment."

pairing: lee minho x reader.

genre: fluff, angst.

word count: 10,529

warnings: swearing, suggestive, unrequited love mentioned, minho being minho (savage and flirty).

summary: your relationship with minho has always been tricky. either he was roasting the shit out of you, or he was flirting with you shamelessly. when things start to get complicated with your childhood friend, chan, why is he the first one who come up in your mind?

a/n: this one took me so long to write, but it might be my favourite one ever. i just fucking love lee minho, lmao. i'm so sorry for not posting as regularly as i used to, i'm very much struggling with school and other, but i'm trying my best! anyway, enjoy~

SERIES MASTERLIST

You and Chan met when your parents used to live across from each other. Being a year apart only, it made things easy for the both of you to get along. You had gone through everything together whether it was growing up, changing schools, making friends, etc. The last big step you had taken together was moving on your college's campus. You roomed with a nice but shy healthcare student, Youngmi. Although she wasn't a social butterfly like Chan was, she grew more at ease with you as time passed.

Another semester starting meant more homework and less free time, and that involved no more nights out with Chan at the local diner. Over the holidays, his friend, Minho, had started to come to your usual hangouts. Nothing against him, but his presence did affect your relationship with Chan. Your crush on him had only been growing since college started and Minho's presence wasn't much of an help if you wanted to confess at some point. Anyway, it's not like you could tell Chan that his friend was causing you problems when really he was doing nothing wrong.

Your first day was finally over. Checking your message app, you saw nothing from Chan. Weird, since he would always answer you. Your last class was with Minho, and after you had put everything in your bag, he was still at his desk, not having moved a bit other than jamming to his music.

"Minho, can you not?"

The man acted as if he had heard nothing and went on with humming happily to the song he was listening to. Despite how much your friendship with him had improved, he remained one of the few people you would give away to Satan to save yourself with no hesitation.

"Min." you tried again, but you were left with no response.

Out of impatience, you snatched his earphones out of his ears, resulting to Minho spatting out one insult after the other. "I was vibing, you moron! You're seriously no fun, weirdo."

"Wow, I'm so affected by your lame insults." you rolled your eyes.

"I'm going soft on you, kitten."

And here it was again, the sudden shift from insults to flirts. Quite honestly, you never understood how he managed to pass from one another so smoothly, nor could you comprehend how it took you by surprise each time. But that's what Minho is, a flirty jerk who loves to provoke.

"Why are you so pressed, anyway?" he asked as he lazily followed you out of the class.

"We're going to the diner, remember?"

"I forgot, actually. See, that's why I need you around." he winked, but you dismissed his antics.

"Chan hasn't replied to my messages yet, it's not like him."

"It's the first day of school, I bet he has hundreds of meetings."

He was surely right, but you learnt with time to not base your thoughts off of Minho's because he never cared about anything other than himself. And right now, he didn't give a damn about Chan not replying to you.

"I don't know, should I call Bin to see if he's with him?"

Minho deadpanned at you. "Are you his mom or something? He's fine, probably just busy. Plus, I'm here. Can't you enjoy my company for once?"

You sent him a disgusted look, unimpressed, as you went outside. That's when, from afar, you saw your best friend. He was as handsome as ever, still wearing his oversized black clothes, and laughing cutely. And he was laughing with a girl. You had literally never seen her before, though you were convinced to know everyone in Chan's social circle.

"I told you he's okay." Minho huffed.

"Sure." you replied, unfocused. "Wait here for a moment, will you?"

You passed your bag to him, not letting him protest, and you ran to Chan to hug him from the back. He was startled for a bit, until he realized you were the one who took him by surprise.

"Hey, there!" he smiled widely before hugging you back tightly, ruffling your hair in a sweet manner. "I haven't seen you all day, where were you?"

"Class... And the best out of this is that I get to finish the day with Lee Minho." you fake-gagged.

"He's not that bad, just a bit annoying." he chuckled. "How was it, other than that?"

"Fine, I suppose. I just really don't want to be back in class. The teachers went over their planned projects, and I wanted to shoot myself just then."

"Don't say that, you'll do just fine. I know it." he said, rubbing your back.

"Thanks, Channie." you blushed a little.

Chan soon realized he had been ignoring his new friend since you appeared. "Y/N, this is Eunhee. She's in my sound art practices class. Eunhee, this is my best friend, Y/N."

You ignored the pang in your heart from the label he used for you, but still greeted the girl sweetly. "Hi! Happy to meet you!"

"Likewise." she replied, seemingly uneasy by your presence despite her polite smile. "I can go find my dorm alone if you two want to hang out."

You turned your attention to Chan expectedly, but his answer crushed you a bit. "No, no. I'll show you." he hurried to tell her, before looking at you sadly. "Do you mind going without me for today? I'll join you later."

You tried your very best to hide your disappointment, but let's say it wasn't much of a success. "Yeah, sure. Do you want Minho and I to order for you?"

"It's fine, thanks. Later?"

He brought you in his arms again, kissing the top of your head as some sort of apology. You felt down enough, you didn't want to break your façade in front of him. So you hurried to join Minho back, who had patiently waited for you at the same spot. He frowned upon seeing your glossy eyes, but you didn't let him question it. You took your bag from him and started to walk to the diner immediately. However, Minho was stubborn. He sped his pace up to catch up with your own and fixated his gaze on you. You attempted to ignore it, but he can be very intimidating when he wants to be.

"What?" you snapped at him, annoyed.

"You like Chan."

You stopped on your tracks and looked at him incredulously. "You're seeing things."

He scoffed as he stopped walking as well. "Please." he elongated the word. "You're almost drooling at the sight of him. And when he's not with us, you only talk about him."

"I don't drool! And I talk about him because we barely have anything in common."

He smirked. "Now, now, kitten. You barely know anything about me, how can you be so sure?"

"You're a pain in the ass." you groaned, starting to walk again.

He followed closely as he laughed alone. "This is a fact, though. We barely talk about anything else than Chan. You must like him, then."

"Then talk about something else, if it bothers you that much."

He paused for a second, trying to think of any moment you two had without mentioning the older man. He could not think of a single one. He had tried to get to know you on many occasions, but Chan would always end up being the main topic. He had noticed way before today that you had a crush on Chan, but he thought it wasn't his place to bring it up. However, today was different. He was sick of seeing you check him out from afar and do nothing about it, so he thought of giving you a little push. Clearly, you were more stubborn than he initially thought.

"Do you actually want to talk with me?"

You let out a chuckle. "I mean, sure?"

"You don't seem sure."

"Like you said, we don't know much about each other, other than our mutual friend."

You reached the diner and opened the door to let Minho in first. He didn't wait for you to sit at the usual table you would be at with Chan. You joined him quickly, and he sent you a sly smirk.

"What is it now?" you breathed out.

"I want to talk."

You shrugged your shoulders, acting uninterested. "Please do."

"Do you even remember my cats' names?"

The question was unexpected for your part. In all of the things he could have brought up, you expected school, life experiences or hobbies, but certainly not his cats.

"I do, actually." you proudly responded, and he quirked an eyebrow. "I'm telling you, I remember!"

"What are they?"

"Soonie and Dori."

He gasped, putting a hand on his chest to enhance the dramatization of his reaction. "How dare you forget about my beloved Doongie?"

"My bad." you nonchalantly shrugged.

"You're such a bad friend."

"Are we even friends, Min?" you huffed.

"I only allow certain people to call me Min, actually."

You wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but Chan entering the place interrupted you. For the first time in your life, you wished he hadn't come join you so soon. He said hi to Minho briefly, before coming to sit down next to you. The server soon came to take your orders, and you asked for your usual burgers.

"Who was your little friend?" Minho asked Chan on purpose, resulting to getting a death stare from you.

"Eunhee. She just tranferred here, so I was showing her around. She's very nice, actually. She even writes lyrics like me! I read some of it, and she's got some talent."

Hearing him talk about someone else with so much praise did not feel good. Nonetheless, you smiled along Chan's talk and pitched in the conversation from time to time.

"I'm sure the two of you would get along well." he finished his monologue about the girl.

"Yeah, she sounds fun."

The night came to an end quickly, and Minho insisted on paying for the food, despite Chan's protests. You were walking to your dorm, when Chan had to go a separate way since he wasn't living close to you. He hugged you good night, and was off to go home.

Minho kept quiet as he walked you home. He didn't mind since his building was next to yours. Although the silence was enjoyable, he felt like something was off. You were acting as if he wasn't there and he couldn't help but notice when you sniffled discreetly.

"You like him that much, uh?"

Not in the mood for his teasing, you groaned in annoyance. "Shut up, Min."

"I'm genuinely asking." You hesitated, not sure if you should be telling him about this. "Hey, I'm serious."

He stopped you and put his hand on your shoulder. While Minho was never one for physical contact, you did know he would not think about it twice when it comes to his close ones. Apparently, he did care about you more than you thought. For some reason, you trusted him enough to tell him. Probably because it was becoming too much of a burden that you needed to confide in someone.

"I'll always be a little sister in his eyes, right?"

He didn't actually expect you to say anything, but he was pleasantly surprised you did. "Depends, things like this can change, you know."

"You don't get it. I've tried for years to get this man's attention, and the moment he meets Eunhee, he seems infatuated with her..."

"For years?"

You nodded your head slowly, ashamed to have been looking at the same man for that long. It's not like you did not try, you actually dated here and there. Nonetheless, Chan was always the one to pick you up after each breakup.

"Rough." Minho simply said.

You ended up changing subjects, as he started to spill out about his cats. He said he rented a dorm for himself so he could have his babies with him, and that he did not think it through when bringing in his third one. Especially because Dori has so much more energy than the two others.

"Thanks, Min." you said as you came to the front door of your building.

"For?"

"I don't know. For being there."

"Sure." he shrugged his shoulders. "Good night, Y/N."

"Good night."

You really tried to make Youngmi feel at ease around your friends, and mutiple times. The girl had not much interest in coming out of her shell. You understood that, but her having been in college for a year already, you would have expected her to open up more. Still, her befriending you was already a success.

"This is, like, the only free break I have this week, so enjoy while I'm here." Chan laughed out as he headed towards the cafeteria.

"What if I don't?" you joked.

"Then you are revoked from any bestie privileges. No more driving you home after a night out."

You gasped as to seem shocked. "Who would tuck me in and treat my hangover, then?"

"Youngmi can do that." he shrugged as he nodded his head towards the girl walking next to you.

She didn't say anything as she looked at you in confusion. "What?"

"Nevermind." you sighed.

"Hey, Y/N, look." You followed to where Chan was pointing as he tugged your side, and your eyes landed on Eunhee and Jeongin sitting at a table. "We should join them."

"I don't think we should do that." Youngmi spoke.

"I thought you knew Jeongin and get along with him well."

"We don't want to impose ourselves." you added.

"It can't be too bad. Plus, Eunhee is very easygoing. Let's go."

No matter what you were going to say, you knew Chan was not going to change his mind. You forced yourself to follow him, and Youngmi had the same expression on her face. When you reached the two others, Jeongin's face turned red as his gaze stuck on Youngmi.

"Hey." she waved at him shyly.

"Do you mind if we join?" Chan asked, although he was already sitting down.

"Go ahead." Eunhee replied kindly.

Hesitant, you still sat down and started to eat. Chan began to discuss with Jeongin while the remaining three of you kept quiet. You and Eunhee exchanged some glances, and you felt bad for being so on the edge around her. She hadn't done anything other than being friendly, and it wasn't fair from you to give her the side eye.

Looking around, you tried to find Minho in the crowd. You spotted him quickly, but he did not see you as his eyes were set on someone else. More specifically, Byeol, his ex-girlfriend. He was sitting across from her and they were exchanging obvious glares. You were starting to wonder why he even sat with her, since he had previously told you he doesn't like to think about her. You observed the two of them for a bit, until they shifted glares into smiles. What the hell was happening?

"Youngmi." you turned to your friend. "Don't you think it's weird he's hanging out with her?"

The girl shrugged, since she didn't know them that much. "It looks normal to me."

You then heard someone choke, which turned your attention to Eunhee, who was coughing like crazy. As Jeongin attempted to make her feel better, you took out a napkin and wiped off the water she had spilled. She gave you a small smile, thankful.

"What do you mean, me? What did I do?" she said after she stopped coughing.

"She asked me if I'd be interested in tutoring you."

You hadn't noticed that Chan was the one she was talking to, until he answered. Tutoring? Wasn't he busy enough already? You chuckled as you thought this was an horrible idea, and Eunhee did the same, visibly seeing this as ridiculous as you were.

"What's funny?" he asked Jeongin, not sure to have caught on what made you two laugh.

The young man shrugged, not very interested in the conversation. "I mean, do you even have time to tutor? You barely have any time for the guys and I."

"It would be during the class period." Eunhee groaned at Chan, seemingly not happy with what she was hearing. "She said you're going to fail if you keep going like this."

“Come on, Chan. We’re barely halfway through the term. I can manage myself.”

“Not sure about that. You have halfway left that you can use to actually get better instead of barely passing.”

She gave you a look, almost pleading for your help, but you really didn't know what to tell her. So you shrugged your shoulders, and turned back to Youngmi to continue chatting.

“I’ll think about it…” you heard Eunhee say.

Lunch time went on pretty quickly. Youngmi had class, so you walked with her to her course. Your day was pretty much over, and you were planning to hang out with the boys for the evening. But nights at the diner shifted to you and Minho being alone while Chan needed to attend the student association meetings. Either that, or he was too tired and wanted to rest.

Unlike what you would have expected, it didn't affect you as much. Minho was much different than your best friend, there was no doubt. His weird behaviour, though, was odd enough to make you forget that Chan had pretty much abandoned you. He was still consistent with his texts, but you barely actually saw him around, today being an exception.

You joined Minho in front of the restaurant, and didn't bother waiting for Chan since you knew it would only be the two of you. He started to talk about his day and other fun things. But honestly, your focus was not cooperating as you were mostly in your thoughts.

"No, but can you blame anyone? Hyunjin's butt is great." Minho went on with his story-telling.

You mixed your milkshake with your straw in boredom, as you nodded along Minho's talk. "Yeah yeah, Hyunjin's butt is nice."

He raised an eyebrow, offended by your lack of commitment in this one-way discussion. "You're not listening."

"I am! I just told you Hyunjin's butt is nice!"

"Y/N, you've never seen the guy." he rolled his eyes at you.

"That is untrue!" you raised your finger to point at him in defense. "He's the one looking like he was made by angels, right?"

Minho scoffed, a smirk forming. "That would be me, princess." His cockiness almost got to you as you were at loss of words. "And we both know my ass is cuter."

You snorted at his statement. To be fair, you had checked his ass once, and there was no denial that he had a good one. You were not going to feed this ego of his, however. Just then, a ping was heard from your phone.

Chan: Hey! Changbin and I would like to have a little gathering with the others tomorrow. You in?

Y/N: If that means I can finally see you, yes!

Chan: I'm so sorry about that! I had so many meetings and so much work to do. It's supposed to be mostly done, though, so hopefully we can see each other more from now on.

Y/N: Otherwise, I'm complaining to the school that I want my best friend back.

Chan: Stop, you know I'll never leave you.

Chan: See you tomorrow?

Y/N: See you tomorrow.

"Something tells me Channie's the one you're texting." Minho teased.

"Shut you. I could say the same with you texting Byeol earlier."

This spilled out of your mouth without you thinking. You did not understand why it bothered you this much when he was chatting with his ex-girlfriend at the beginning of your night together. It was surely because it was impolite to be on your phone when you're hanging with someone already. Though, you just did the same and he was not bothered at all.

Minho blinked a few times as his eyes were set on you, before he breathed out a huff. "What do you mean?"

You stuttered as you tried to explain yourself. "I-I... She and you were- I meant, earlier today-"

He grinned at your sudden change in attitude. He rarely saw you shy or embarrassed, because you were rarely in this kind of state and also because you were good at hiding your emotions. To say he didn't like it would be a lie. You were damn adorable with the flush on your cheeks, and he had to suppress himself from slipping out a comment about it.

"You were definitely not listening to me earlier, then." You frowned before gesturing for him to continue. "The whole butt thing was because Byeol had accidentally texted me instead of her friend, and she was complimenting Hyunjin's ass in that message. That's why I was laughing then."

"Oh." you breathed out as you nodded your head slowly.

"If it makes you feel any better, I smile much more when you're texting me." he winked.

"Now, for real, you need to shut up."

Being the first one to get to Chan's dorm, you made yourself at home as you sprawled across his couch, scrolling through your social medias. Chan had plans with Minho and would be coming home with him later, so you hadn't seen him yet. Changbin, however, was there.

"Do you think this is a good plan?" he sighed loudly.

Frankly speaking, you had not listened to one word he said since you were too focused on replaying the cat video Minho had just sent you. "Uh? Yeah. It's an excellent plan." you replied nonchalantly, before chuckling at the video again.

"And, you were not listening." Changbin let out a sigh. "Is this Minho's cat?" he asked, upon seeing the ginger feline on your phone.

"Yeah. Soonie fell off this morning while he was filming him. Poor kitty, but this is quite hilarious. Especially Minho panicking and running to save his child." you went on to explain, a smile still on your face.

"You have it for Minho, now?"

You froze in action from his words. "What?"

He realized that, maybe, he shouldn't have said anything as he scratched his head while awkwardly chuckling. "Forget it."

The doorbell rang and Changbin almost ran to the door to open it. He let Chunhwa in before giving her a big hug. She had brought drinks for the evening, so she straight went to put them in the refrigerator.

"Hey, Y/N!" she waved at you.

"Hi." you smiled. "What did you get for us?"

She raised a pack of beer and a bottle filled with a dark-coloured liquid. "Beers for the guys, and I found this fruit punch thing. I thought we could try it out." she shrugged as she put them down, and pulled a Fanta out of her grocery bag. "And I got this for our Jisung."

"About that." Changbin started. "He won't come tonight. He said something along the lines that Hwayoung was out with some guy and that he didn't want what happened last time to repeat itself."

Last time you hung out all together, Hwayoung had went on a date before joining you and was looking like a wreck. Jisung had to comfort her in Chan's room, and let's say some stuff happened.

"Oh well, I'll have the Fanta, then." you said as you got up to take it from your friend's hand.

Soon enough, the guys came back after they stopped by the convenience store to buy some snacks. While Changbin had already placed the board game on the table, Chunhwa took the time to help Chan out with preparing the ramen soups he bought. Minho sat next to you and thanked the girl as she gave him the food.

"Where is Jisung?" he asked as he started to dig into his soup.

"He's probably comforting Hwayoung again." Changbin answered, which made you feel bad for him.

"If he keeps doing this, he'll end up in a deep depression." you breathed out before the entire room nodded in agreement.

"You're one to say that." Minho said as he nudged your arm.

You glared at him before hitting his arm playfully. You only hoped Chan didn't get what he meant by that. The evening continued as you all picked your pawns to play. You conversed simultaneously since it had been a while since you saw each other. Changbin and Chunhwa were being painfully obvious about their crushes on each other, and Minho kept on bugging you, claiming you were cheating.

"I talked with Eunhee." Chan said, clasping his hands together which took you aback.

"And?" you frowned.

"She accepted my offer. I told you she would."

Your heart sank. No matter when you would talk with him, he always brought her up. Even if you took your feelings out of the situation, it almost looked as if he wasn't your best friend anymore and it hurt. You felt Minho putting a hand on your thigh, probably to bring you some kind of support.

You forced yourself to smile, before managing to say a small "That's great."

You could see that Chan noticed your lack of enthusiasm, but he went on nonetheless. "Yeah, I'll text her the details later. It'll probably be once or twice a week. Depends on her level, honestly."

"Right." you coughed out as you felt a lump forming in your throat, and Minho was quick to notice as he tightened his grip on you slightly. "Sorry, I have a headache. Minho." The boy shot his head up immediately. "Do you mind helping me get some medicine?"

"No, of course." he assured before standing up and offering his hand to help you up.

He gave you a worried smile as you came face to face with him. You didn't know when it started exactly, but he had started to let himself be more vulnerable around you. You almost never saw him having any sort of emotions. Seeing him care this much about you made you feel both weirded out and safe.

Chan watched the scene happen in front of his eyes and frowned in confusion. "Are you alright? I can help if you want and-"

"No." you immediately shut him up. "I'm okay, really. Thanks."

The poor guy was left even more confused when Minho took you away, bringing you to the bathroom. You both closed the door and you stood in front of each other for a moment without saying anything. While he was waiting for you to talk, you genuinely just wanted to enjoy his presence. But as the silence grew, Minho finally decided to break it.

"You could have asked Chunhwa to help you." he said, since he didn't why exactly you chose him to comfort you.

You shrugged, not too sure either. "You were the first person I thought of at the moment. I mean, you had a pretty strong grip on my thigh."

He coughed awkwardly, his ears turning red. "I see. And yeah, sorry about that.

"It's okay. It kind of helped, actually." you admitted.

Another silence took over, but he was the first to speak again. "Do you want me to talk to him?"

Your eyes widened at his proposition. "Are you crazy? Don't do that."

"No, I won't tell him about your crush, or whatever. I can mention to him that it's annoying that he only talks about her." he shrugged his shoulders.

"Min, we both only talk about Chan whenever we are together." you stated the obvious. "I bet you are more annoyed about that."

"Fair enough, but you don't bring up how talented and amazing he is every two seconds."

You laughed at this, and it visibly made Minho relax. If he managed to make you smile a little, that was good enough for him.

"Still, you don't need to do that. It's just as if I'm losing a friend, that's all."

"Do you want to go back home? I can walk you there."

You hummed quietly while nodding a yes slowly. "Actually, yes, that would be nice."

He took a step closer before rubbing the side of your arm, not forgetting to replace the hair that had fallen onto your face as well. "Then, we shall take you home, princess."

You hoped he didn't feel your heartbeat fasten its pace, nor your heavy breathing. He was never a physical person, and his touch felt electrifying. You knew damn well he was only doing this for you to feel better about your whole situation with your best friend, but you were starting to wonder if a part of him actually enjoyed these kinds of moments.

Your train of thoughts was stopped when he let go of you to open the door again, letting you walk out first. As you joined the others, you saw Changbin and Chunghwa being in their own world, and Chan giggling at his phone, most likely texting Eunhee. Oddly enough, it did not pain you as much as it did earlier. Somehow, feeling Minho's body hovering behind you in a protective way compensated.

"I'll go home, if you don't mind." you said to nobody in particular.

Chan let go of his phone, while the two others simply gave you a thumbs up before going on with whatever they were doing. "This early?" Chan asked.

"Sorry, I don't feel so well." you attempted a smile.

Chan stood up and joined you at the front door, concern all over his face. "Let me walk you to your dorm, at least."

You shook you head as a no before gesturing to the man standing behind you. "Minho's coming with me already. Thank you."

"Alright." he trailed off before he gave you a tight hug. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Always. Good night Chan. Bye, guys!" you addressed to the others.

You were quick to leave, and you felt bad Minho had to keep up with your fast walking. Nonetheless, he didn't complain and you found yourself outside of the building soon, breathing in the fresh air.

"What are you going to do for the rest of your night?" Minho asked.

You pondered for a minute, trying to figure out the options in your mind, but nothing came up. "I don't know. Knowing Youngmi, she's already sleeping. That means I can't do much other than sleep too."

"Are you tired?" he asked, and you answered with a no. "My place is close to yours, if you want to hang out."

You never went over at his, meaning you never met his cats. This was a good opportunity to get some cuddles with them, that only if Minho allowed you.

"Do I get to snuggle with Soonie, Doongie and Dori?"

He frowned. "Who do you think you are? Some privileged woman? The cats are off-limit." To that, you pouted at him. "Y/N, no."

"You want to me to feel better or not?"

"You seem to be doing good, now."

"Min, pretty please." you whined like a child.

He let out a sigh, deadpanning at you. "Fine. Not more than an hour of cuddles, though."

Feeling victorious, you took his hand and dragged him rapidly to his dorm. He almost fell from your sudden excitement, which took him by surprise. You were especially strong for someone who barely did anything else than study and work. At his building, he took the lead since you didn't know where he lived exactly. He let you inside first, being the well-mannered man he is, and you were greeted by an orange ball of floof who was visibly confused upon seeing someone who is not Minho.

"Doongie." he said before pointing to the other orange cat who was sitting on the cat tree in the corner of the room. "Soonie. And I have no idea where Dori is."

"You sent me so many photos of them, I would have recognized them without your help."

He sent a glare your way. "Just be grateful you get to meet them."

"Yes, thank you, Min." you laughed before crouching down to pet the cat. "Hello, Doongie." you cooed at him.

Minho huffed at the sight. His cat seemed to be liking you a lot. He went to Soonie, only to see Dori jumping on the cat tree to join his brother. He patted their heads lovingly. At least, he still had those two who didn't betray him. However, he realized he spoke too soon when you joined him to scratch the cats' bellies.

"You traitors." he muttered at his children. "It looks like they love you more than me."

"I'm just that much likeable." you teased.

"Sure you are, kitten."

Your eyes widened as realization hit you. "You call me kitten because of your cats?"

"Why else?" he shrugged as if it was nothing. "I like cats and I like you. This is only logical."

Your eyes went even wider, your heartbeat pacing faster. Did he just tell you he liked you? The Lee Minho who was known to be the most detached person on Earth, the one who never showed his true emotions?

"You like me?" you breathed out.

He rolled his eyes at you. "You're my friend, of couse I like you."

Oh. He meant that kind of liking. You were not certain on why it disappointed you so much. You thought you liked Chan. Well, you did, but ever since Minho came in the picture, you didn't know if you were starting to lie to yourself about your feelings for your best friend.

"Wow, Minho is finally admitting he actually likes having me around."

"Don't let it get into your head too much. This only happened because Chan's busy." he scoffed as he walked to the cupboard in his kitchen. "Now, do you want to feed the kitties?"

You didn't think twice before hopping to join him. You helped him serve the cat food and put it on the ground. You observed them eat together, as you petted their backs. He was babying Dori and Doongie, while you were spoiling Soonie with scratches. Needless to say, you felt like you were two parents watching over their children. And it felt strangely comfortable. If someone told you months prior that you would be in Minho's apartment, feeding his cats, and feeling like you wished it'd be like this all the time, you would not believe them. Because you couldn't quite believe it at this instant.

"Did you want to do something in particular?" you asked after the cats were done eating.

"Hmm." he hummed, thinking for a moment. "We could watch a movie. I have some drinks if you want to do that while watching."

"Sounds good to me."

You opted for a comedy movie while Minho prepared the popcorn and the drinks. You both had already drank a little when you were at Chan's, but some more couldn't hurt. Mid-way through the film, you were already feeling tired and tipsy. Way more than tipsy. Of course, Minho noticed since you were starting to lean on him. He tried to move away, but it was like you were trying to absolutely have some sort of physical contact with him.

"Bruh." he spat out when you were now full on laying on him.

"Uh?" you said as your eyes fluttered opened. "Ah, sorry, Min. I'm just very tired."

"Yeah, it's fine."

"Do you mind if I sleep here for tonight?" you mumbled out and Minho froze.

Normally, he would have kicked you out at that point without any second thoughts. However, your pleading eyes with your tired figure did something to him, and he couldn't just say no to you.

"I'll take the couch."

You pouted before shaking your head violently. "Sleep in your bed. I'll stay here."

"Y/N, you're not okay. Sleep in my bed."

"Or we can sleep together."

You took his lack of answer as a yes, and stood up on your feet clumsily. Luckily, he caught you in time before you tripped on yourself. You grabbed onto him to find some balance as he led you carefully to his bed. Once he tucked you in, he was about to leave, but you took his wrist to stop him.

"I said we can sleep together."

"I'll just wash up, I'll be back."

"Do you have cucumbers?"

He looked at you weirdly. Sure, you were drunk, but this was so random. You explained briefly it was for a skin care routine you wanted to do to relax. Although it now made sense, he didn't quite understand why you wanted to pamper yourself while being so tired. Nonetheless, he obliged and brought you sliced cucumbers.

"I'll go shower while you do your thingy."

"I'll wait for you."

Your behaviour was strange, but you were awfully cute and you smiled widely at him, hurrying him to go wash. He absolutely adored it, but he knew this was only because you drank. He beat himself up for wanting this to be genuine. The picture of you waiting for him to go to bed and falling asleep together was more than appealing to him. However, he had to remind himself that you liked Chan, and that you'd known the latter for years. He could never do that, come in-between the two of you. He finished his shower thoughts by simply telling himself to get over it. He didn't like you. He couldn't like you. Not like that.

When he came back in his room, he was met with the image of you watching a kids show on his personal TV. Some people would act like horny jerks when drunk, but you were a total child. Alongside with you was Dori, whom you had somehow managed to kidnap to cuddle with. Minho loved it. But he couldn't.

"You didn't use the cucumbers." he pointed to the plate, still full of the vegetable.

"I told you I'd wait for you."

He quirked an eyebrow, starting to see where this was going. "I am not doing some self-care shit with you."

"Min..." you pouted.

"No."

You patted the empty side of the bed and, lazily, Minho sat down as he was still glaring at you.

"Please."

"I'm going to sleep."

You huffed. "You're no fun. Chan would have done it."

Oh, how wrong was it of you to say that. It awoke something in Minho. Whether it was jealousy or pride, he didn't know, but he knew he didn't like it. Instantly, he picked two cucumbers and placed them on your cheeks.

"There. Happy?" he grumbled.

"Very much." you giggled. "Your turn."

You spent the next hour or so playing with cucumber slices, either throwing them at each other, eating them, or shoving them on Minho's eyes. It might had been the first time you saw him genuinely having fun. Not cocky or insufferable like he usually was. He was at ease, and so you were.

It was around 1am when you both grew too tired to continue your self-care session. You snuggled into the blankets and brought yourself closer to the man laying next to you. He stood still as he looked right back at you. He didn't stop himself from reaching out to the side of your face, patting your head.

"Thank you for tonight." you mumbled tiredly. "I think I like you too."

He immediately caught on that you were referring to your previous conversation. Fortunately, because otherwise, he would have went on full panic mode.

"That's good, pretty. Sleep well, alright?"

"You too, Min."

You and Minho were definitely no longer friends after that night, but nor had you stopped speaking to each other. Quite the opposite, actually. Think of any act of affection a couple would do, other than kissing, and there you got what was happening between the two of you. Chan had almost disappeared, now spending most of his time with Eunhee. You did visit him occasionally to make sure he wasn't exhausting himself too much but it never lasted more than five minutes. That also meant your crush on him had completely vanished. It couldn't have stayed for long, anyway, after you woke up in Minho's bed that morning, realizing you had fallen in love with him instead.

"Strawberry." Minho said, standing up firmly for his choice of milkshake, as he nudged your arm.

"Chocolate." you said, coming closer to his face.

He sighed in frustration. "We had chocolate last time."

"If you're so pressed with your strawberry, just order one for yourself."

He smirked. "But you want us to share, don't you?"

It was annoying how right he was, and you huffed in defeat. "Strawberry it is."

"There you go. I knew you were going to give up."

"Shut up."

He took you by the waist and brought you closer, as if you were not close enough already on the small cushioned bench. You continued to bicker playfully, when you heard the front door's bell. Turning your attention on where the sound came from, you easily spotted Chan. He stood still, baffled at the sight in front of him. He started to question himself mentally, wondering if he had really cancelled on you two that much that he didn't notice you were dating. Coming back to his senses, he walked to your booth and sat in front of you.

"Hey, guys. Am I interrupting, or..?"

"Of course not." Minho exclaimed. "Glad to see you after, I don't know how long."

You could hear the pettiness in his voice, so you hit him slightly with your elbow before speaking. "We've all been busy, it's okay." you smiled. "So, what's new? How are things with Eunhee?"

"It's good, I guess. We had a... moment, and she is pretty much ignoring me since then. You know, when you came over the other day." he explained, while looking pretty clueless.

"What kind of moment?" Minho asked, stretching his arm out to wrap it around you, which earned a look from Chan.

"Uh, I'm not too sure. We danced in my room-"

You cut him off with a laugh, and he glared at you. "That's the cheesiest thing you could have done. No shit you were acting weird when I came over." you snickered, and Minho soon joined you as he tried to ignore the slight jealousy he felt from learning you went over to Chan's recently.

"Yeah, you two are no better. You were all over each other when I walked in." he rolled his eyes.

That was enough to shut the both of you, knowing well this was an unspoken thing you had going on. You never brought it up, and didn't intend on doing so anytime soon.

"So." Minho coughed out awkwardly. "Your moment?"

"Right." Chan nodded. "Well, we were dancing in my room and, I don't know what happened, but I almost kissed her. And, I don't know, she didn't look like she wanted to, so I back off. And now, I'm lowkey stressing out about it because I surely didn't want to make her uncomfortable."

"She wanted you to kiss her." you responded without hesitation.

"You think so?"

"Chan, I know so." You hesitated to continue with your point, but feeling Minho's hand rubbing your arm let you know it might be time to tell him. "I'm convinced she likes you, because she acts the same way as I did with you."

He frowned his eyebrows. "You like me? Aren't you and Minho... well, you know?"

"I used to, and that's not important." you dismissed the topic. "What I'm saying is she keeps sending you memes to make you smile, she gets shy around you, she said yes to your tutoring..."

"And you told me she even bought you coffee for one of your lessons with her." Minho added.

He looked at you both, still uncertain. "Should I invite her to my party, then?"

"What party?"

"My end of the school term party. In two days."

"Go for it, yeah." Minho encouraged. "Are we invited?"

"If you promise to keep it in your pants, yes."

Right. A party. With girls. And Minho. The guy who hooked up here and there after his breakup with Byeol. The same one you were currently in love with. Great.

"You know me better." he laughed with Chan. "I'll behave, I promise."

Later, on the walk back to Minho's, since you had planned to stay at his place, you were more quiet than usual. You were holding hands, but your grip was loose, and you couldn't focus properly.

"What's wrong, kitten?" he asked worriedly.

"What do you think of Siyeon?" you said, mentioning a pretty girl in your common class.

"What is this question?" he chuckled, not sure in where you were going with this.

"She's cute, has good grades, is nice to everyone. And Chan is going to invite her at the party, probably."

He raised an eyebrow at you. "Your point?"

"You could ask her out." you shrugged.

With that, Minho let go of your hand. "I could, but I won't."

"Why? Sorry, but it just hit me that you haven't gone out with someone in a very long time."

"I don't know. I suppose I'm not very in the mood of fucking around anymore. You also stopped talking about Chan with me. I'm not the only one acting differently." he pointed out.

"I said it earlier, I don't like Chan anymore." you rolled your eyes.

"Well, then. Our romantic lives are bland."

"They are."

The conversation was cut short as he didn't have anything else to say. He took your hand again, and led you to his dorm. You got there pretty quickly, and you still hadn't said a word to each other. It didn't mean you didn't understand what was happening, both of you implying the lack of love you had could only mean one thing.

The moment he closed his front door, he grabbed you by the waist to pull you closer and crashed his lips onto yours. You were taken aback at first, not sure on how you should be reacting, but it quickly faded as you melted into the kiss. While he was needy, he was also being extremely gentle with you, making sure he didn't hurt you in any way. It didn't take long for you to get to his room, and he pushed you down gently on the bed. Now hovering you, he deepened the kiss before moving down to place small pecks on your neck.

"Min." you mumbled between heavy breaths, and he hummed against your skin. "This is not a joke, right?"

He separated his mouth from your skin to look at you curiously. "What do you mean?"

"You used to be very... physical with other girls. I just want to make sure I'm not some doll you're playing with before throwing it away."

He looked at you with fondness as he stroke your cheek softly. "I thought I made it clear I've wanted you for months, now. Not just physically, like you said." He pecked your forehead. "If I can have you." Kissed your cheek. "I don't want the skin ship only, this time." He stopped as he glanced at your lips. "I want all of you."

You were the one to initiate this time when you brought him closer, kissing him hungrily. The unspoken tension there was before was no longer there. It was like kissing each other had dropped all of your walls, and you were now fully exposed to one another.

"I fucking hated it when you cried about Chan." he said in-between the kisses.

"Really?"

"Fuck, yes." he said, going back to sucking your neck.

"I hated how much you flirted with me, knowing you weren't sincere." you admitted.

"Trust me, kitten, I was fucking sincere."

You started to play with the hem of his shirt, tugging in a few times. He backed away and smirked at you before leading your hands to help him take off his shirt. The sight in front of you was mesmerizing. You already had the idea that he had a good body because of his dancing, but you certainly did not expect him to look this hot.

"Damn." you let out without thinking.

"I know, I'm hot." he winked at you.

"Of course, you know." you rolled your eyes.

"I'm joking." he chuckled as he pecked your lips. "Are you okay if we continue? I want you to feel comfortable."

"I'm more than okay."

The party started out well. You had come in advance to help Chan with the preparations, but mostly to help him calm down. The poor guy was so nervous, not knowing whether Eunhee was going to show up or not.

As people kept coming in, you kept on looking out for any signs of Minho. He texted you he had some errands to run for the cats before coming, but you just wanted to see him. After your night together, you spent the next two days doing finals which didn't allow you to meet up again. The morning after, however, he did ask you out on a date to which you gladly said yes. Although labels were not discussed, it wasn't necessary because you both knew you wanted the same thing.

"Hey, Seungmin!" you welcomed the man as you opened the door.

"Still acting like Chan's place is yours?" he joked.

"I've come here so much, it's like my second home." you laughed with him. "Come on in!"

You joined Chan back in the kitchen as he was starting to prepare the snacks. You started helping him out, though you were very much distracted. Looking at your phone every minute or so, Chan pointed it out, making fun of you.

"You tell me to stop doing that with Eunhee, and you're doing the same with Minho."

You froze in place before slowly turning your head to him. "I never told you I was seeing Minho."

"Y/N, you two have been eye fucking each other for weeks. It did surprise me, but I'm not blind. You love him."

You blushed, as shyness crept over. "Yeah, he's really great."

"I can see that. I haven't see you so happy since, well, since forever actually. I'm happy for you."

"Thank you, Channie."

You exchanged smiles before going back to preparing the food. It felt great to spend some quality time with him after such a long time.

"You two fucked, haven't you?"

Your eyes widened from his words.

"Chan!"

"What?" he said innocently. "You have dark spots on your neck, that's all."

You grew embarrassed, but couldn't help but laugh. You haven't noticed until now that Minho had marked you that much. You thought he was being gentle enough to not have done so, but it was visibly the opposite. Just then, you noticed a familiar figure appear in front of you, which made the both of you shut up.

"HI! Eunhee, um, wow. You made it! I mean, I didn't expect you to be here. I should, uh-" Chan spilled out, straightening his posture.

Trying to prevent him from embarrassing himself any further, you hit him slightly with your elbow to shut him up before turning your attention to the girl in front of you. "Good to see you."

"You too. I hope I'm not interrupting." she flickered her gaze between the two.

"Of course not!" you both denied, not wanting to give her the wrong image.

Chan stood there awkwardly before starting to walk away. "I should go greet the others. Talk to you later?" he told her, and you gave him a look as to ask him what he was doing.

You didn't know what to say to her. Seriously, it was Chan's responsibility to talk to her and fix whatever happened between them. You just kept on pouring bowls of chips, but ended up speaking.

"I really didn't expect you here. Chan had kind of given up after you ignored him."

It came pettier than what you had intended, but at least the message was there.

"It wasn't intentional. I mean, I did purposely ignore him but I had reasons." she justified, but you shook your head for her to stop.

"I'm not asking you to tell me why, you must have had good reasons. I just..." You hesitated to keep going, afraid you would be saying something you shouldn't. "He told me about how you almost kissed and I'm just letting you know that Chan is not someone to play around with. I don't know why he likes you so much while barely noticing me, but I'm warning you. You don't know him like I do and I know Chan is going to prioritize who he loves first. I don't want this thing going on with you two to be hurting anyone."

Her silence was torturing you as she was processing everything you told her. You replayed the scene in your mind, trying to spot anything you could have said wrongly. But nothing came to you.

"I came here to fix things with him." she finally spoke. "I don't know the history between you two, and visibly you are closer than anyone here. If I hurt you in any way, I'm so sorry. I just wanted to pass my class, that's it."

You had definitely fucked up by indirectly mentioning your former crush on the guy. This was obviously not the outcome you were expecting, you simply wanted to let her know that Chan was precious and needed to be taken care of even when he didn't want to.

"No, I-"

"It's okay, Y/N. You two clearly have something going on. I know for a fact Chan doesn't like me like that and he's way better off with you."

She left before you could explain any further. You cursed under your breath as you tried to catch up to her. However, you were stopped when someone brought you into a hug before familiar lips met yours.

"Hey, there." Minho grinned at you. "You're looking beautiful."

While your heart wanted to stay with him and melt at his compliments, your mind knew you had to make things right with Eunhee.

"Thank you, Min. I have to do something real quick. Do you mind getting me a drink in the meantime?" you pecked his cheek. "I'll be right back, okay?"

"Alright." he nodded before bringing you into another hug. He leaned on your side so his mouth could be next to your ear. "I'm sorry about the hickeys, by the way."

And he left. He was surely making you feel things, but now was not the moment. You walked through the crowd of people, trying to find Eunhee, but you simply couldn't as there were too many people. Looking behind you, your eyes laid on Chan, alone in the kitchen. You went to him as fast as you could.

"Chan!" you exclaimed out of breath. "Have you seen Eunhee?"

When you took a better look at him, his face had nothing but confusion, sadness, and pure anger.

"What did you say to her?"

And, you were fucked. You shut your eyes closed, taking a deep breath to prepare yourself for the argument that you felt was coming. Chan was rarely mad, but you did not want to be around when he was. Now that he was actually pissed, it was even worse that it was at you.

"So you saw her."

Chan rolled his eyes, as if it was the most obvious thing. "She said you were waiting for me in the kitchen. What have you told her?"

"Nothing untrue, I swear." you breathed out, trying to be careful with your words. "I think she misinterpreted a lot of what I said."

"What did you say exactly?" he asked again, growing impatient.

You took a deep breath in, and searched for any help around, but everyone was having fun and Minho was nowhere to be seen. "I might have spilled out I had a crush on you, but she took it as if I still do." He groaned in frustration, passing his hand through his curly locks. "I also said you like her, and I might have mentioned that you two being together could potentially end up hurting the both of you..."

If you thought he was furious earlier, now he was on full rage mode. Honestly, you had never seen him so mad, and it frightened you quite a bit.

"Why on Earth would tell her that?" he almost growled at you.

"Why? For fuck's sake, Chan, how was I supposed to know what to tell her? You left me there because you were too much of a baby to face her yourself." you snapped at him, which he had seemingly not expected.

"You know me enough to not say shit like that! And I am hosting this whole thing and I saw people coming in. It was the least I could do."

"Fuck off with your lame excuse, because we both know Changbin was already doing so. And for your information, I don't know you as well as I used to because sir decided to disappear out of my life."

He huffed at you as he looked around. He was lost and didn't know what to do now.

"Yeah, I told you already that I'm sorry. But if you love me so much, you wouldn't have told her off by saying you have a crush on me." he yelled out, being heard by almost everyone in the room.

Behind him, you spotted Minho's eyes already staring at you. He was fuming too, walking towards your direction. You didn't know whether he was angry because of you or Chan, but you were definitely worried at that point.

"Y/N." he called out.

"Minho, can we not-"

"So it's Minho, now?" You exhaled loudly, wondering how the night had even taken this turn. "I thought you said you were over him."

"Minho, stay out of this." Chan put his arm in front of him to prevent him from approaching you any closer.

You recognized the protectiveness Chan had of you within his tone, which reassured you a bit that he still cared, at least. Minho didn't fight back, but sent you a disappointed look instead.

"I'll leave you to it, then."

With that, he stormed out of the apartment, not looking back. Meanwhile, the tears you had been holding back until then flooded out and you broke down as Chan held you.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm sorry, it's my fault."

The softness he had after being so enraged took you by surprise, but you truly needed your best friend at the moment. "I'm sorry." you sobbed out.

"Y/N, it's okay. Don't be sorry. You know I can be pretty stupid, right?" he pat your head, and you nodded as a small laugh left your mouth. "I'm the one at fault, here. I should have talked to Eunhee myself, and I shouldn't have yelled at you. Minho is very sensitive, you know that, right? He'll come around, I'm sure of it."

It amazed you how he was still able to find the right words for any circumstances. You loved him, for real. But not that kind of love. This one was reserved for Minho. The only thing on your mind was to run after him. You hurt him, and you couldn't bear with the thought.

"Thank you, Chan. I'm also sorry."

He shook his head. "I told you to stop saying that." It made you chuckle.

"Do you think I should go after him?"

He smirked. "Go get your damsel in distress."

Still sobbing, you snorted at his words before you hurried to get out of his apartment. You felt grateful to have went so many times to his place to know his dorm number. Otherwise, you would have given up much quicker. You stopped in front of his door and knocked softly. You heard someone moving from the other side, and heard a sigh.

"Min." you called out.

To your shock, he opened the door, only a bit, and looked at you. He looked tired, and you noticed he had changed into his pyjamas. He hummed as a greeting, obviously still mad at what happened.

"Can we talk?"

He really didn't want to, but your puffy red eyes and simply the sight of you was enough to break him apart. So he let you in. You smiled widely when you were greeted by your favourite cats. You scratched their heads briefly, before turning your attention back on Minho. He was leaning on his counter (which was hot, let's be honest) and crossed his arms as he waited for you to talk.

"I really and certainly do not like Chan."

"Reassuring." he commented, but received a glare from you to tell him to let you speak.

"What happened was he left me alone with Eunhee and I said some things to her that she interpreted as if I still liked him. Chan got mad and he impulsively said that. I told him about us already, he knows."

He frowned at your words. "Us."

"Yeah, us." you repeated, taking a chance by walking up to him.

Thankfully, he let you place yourself right in front of him. He uncrossed his legs so you could have some space, and you approached him. You took his face in your hands, looking at him lovingly.

"What did you tell him about us, precisely?" he asked, placing his hands on your waist.

"I told him that you're great."

"Just that?"

"He knows we fucked."

He raised his eyebrows as he looked up. "Should have expected that."

You slapped his cheek playfully as you pouted, and he chuckled because you were just adorable. "Shut up."

"Sorry. Go on?" he laughed.

You got closer to him, your lips lingering over his. He would have kissed you, but he wanted to hear what you had left to say.

"And I admitted that I might love you."

He backed away, not having expected this. "Love?"

You sighed. "Dude, we've been acting like a couple for months, and we see each other pretty much every day. Don't act surprised."

He frowned even more. "Dude? Really? I call you princess, kitten, or pretty. And I get dude."

"Min." you whined, but he could only laugh.

He loved messing around with you, but he knew when to stop. "I'll be dude if that's what makes you happy, love."

You grinned from ear to ear. "Shall I take this as you love me too?"

"Don't make me say it, kitten."

You chuckled and played with his hair. He adjusted his posture and was now the one hovering you. His eyes went straight to your lips, and he didn't ask to kiss you before doing so. You smiled and kissed him back, not forgetting to hold him close.

"I fucking won over Bang Chan." he bragged after pulling away from you.

"That was an easy win." you snorted.

"Ah yeah? Am I that irresistible?"

"You know you are."

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