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nvuy · 8 months ago

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doctor, doctor — veritas ratio

summary. you’re the worst person ever, distract him from his work, beat him at chess, and yet doctor ratio still can’t seem to hate your presence as much as he lets on.

notes. “nvuy please update your fics” NO.

my favourite person ever informed me that when owlbert lists all of ratio’s degrees, chemistry is not one of them, so i thought that was funny. but anyway i always lowkey forget ratio exists but then he appears in game and i go Good Lord and then go about my day. that man’s arms do something to me.

warnings. suggestive content, one intense make out session, you’re a freak LMAO, ratio thinks you’re a freak too, this is lowkey crack, i wrote this tipsy, gn reader but you do wear lipgloss.

“Hi, Doctor.”

Veritas’ fingers slid against the screen like nails on a chalkboard. A headache was already starting to form behind his eyes, and he squeezed them shut for a moment before he unwillingly opened them again.

“Yes. Good evening to you.”

Keep the pleasantries. Don’t yell. Don’t throw a punch. Don’t slam another book on anyone else’s head.

You sat down in the seat beside him with a purple soda can in your hand. “Whatcha doin’?”

Veritas cleared his throat. “I’m working.” He glanced up at the top of his screen. “And, judging by the time, you should be working as well.”

You weren’t even listening, choosing instead to pick up a stray notebook that he’d left on the desk. The page was filled with scribble and stupid math symbols—actually, that was not scribble. That was just his handwriting.

Gross. You grimaced at the page before you turned it. The next page, and the next, creased and scarred with harsh pen markings, looked undoubtedly the same.

“Work is for losers,” was all you remarked. You obnoxiously sipped at your drink.

Ratio scoffed. “How you even landed a position working for Madame Herta is beyond me. You are clearly a liability.”

You snorted. “I got hired because I’m sexy and smart.” You were picking at your nails, painted a deep purple like his hair. “You’re only here because Miss Asta needed help. After her problem is solved, you can go back to moping about how you don’t have a chemistry degree.”

You watched his jaw visibly tighten. His teeth gnashed together, and you swore you could hear them grinding behind his lips.

“It is a work in progress,” was all he said.

“Yap, yap.” You made a talking gesture with your hands. “I’m the professional here. That’s why Miss Asta made me lead chemist.”

Such a shame your ego overshadowed such a pretty face.

“What do you want?” he asked, trying to return to his notebook.

“I want to play chess.”

“I’m busy.”

You blew a raspberry. You punched him playfully in the shoulder. You almost hurt your knuckles bopping his bicep. “You’re just scared you’ll lose.”

His glanced up so quickly you swore you heard his neck crack. He raised an eyebrow in a challenging gesture, as if daring you to repeat yourself.

You only stared at him expectantly.

“One game,” he rushed out, face reddening in frustration. The look he gave you could’ve killed, but you knew him better than that. His strangely jacked physique wasn’t built to maim, and if he wanted to smack you with his tablet, he would’ve done so already. “And if I win, you will leave me alone.”

“Mmm, okay.” You shrugged. “And if I win, I get a kiss.” You tapped your cheek twice.

Veritas reeled back. Then, taken aback, he spluttered, “that’s all?”

You took another sip of your drink.

Then, you blinked. “Yep.”

Ratio, too, reciprocated, blinking wildly as if he hadn’t even processed what had come out of your mouth.

You grinned at him, eyes crinkling below your lashes as he eyed you down like he was viewing a sample through a microscope.

Then, he sighed. “Fine.” He tapped away on his screen. One of his floating gadgets projected a holographic chessboard onto his desk. “I suppose somebody has to dull that ego of yours.”

You leaned back in your seat and waved him off lightly. “You can go first.”

The chessboard flipped, and the white pieces faced him.

*ೃ༄

“Hey, does this thing have speech detection?” You leaned closer to the board. “Knight to B4.”

As expected, the small porcelain knight upon the board moved forward into its newly assigned position.

Ratio scoffed, clearly irritated. His fingers tapped idly against the desk. “You are so frustratingly lazy. It’s a miracle you get your work done, and such a shame it impedes your potential brilliance.”

You only made another talking motion with your hands. As he thought long and hard about his next move, you yawned. He took everything so seriously.

No wonder he was so jacked. He was constantly tense. It probably counted as a workout.

“You think I’m brilliant?” you asked with a smile.

“I think you have selective hearing.” Finally, he moved one of his pieces forward. “But, yes. Miss Asta speaks highly of you.”

“Aww. I’ll give her a smooch later.” That was a relief to hear, actually. Sometimes you worried if she’d boot you out of your position because of your tardiness. It was good that she still wanted you working in the station, despite lagging behind on reports and important meetings.

When you glanced up from the board after telling a pawn to move forward one space, Ratio’s eyes caught yours before he briskly looked down at the hologram once more.

Ratio was trying to read the board. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Just what are you doing?”

“Winning.”

“You are not winning.”

“Sure I am.” You leaned back in the seat once more. “Checkmate.”

Veritas’ eyes snapped up to gawp at you.

“Excuse me?”

“Checkmate,” you repeated. “I know I’m distracting. I have that effect on loser nerds with big egos.”

Veritas was staring at the board again. He was trying to piece together your previous moves, as the holographic board began to play in reverse. He was no cheat, no, never, and you didn’t expect him to do it as you were watching either, but it was clear as day.

He lost.

Your tongue carded along the rim of the soda can. “L-O-L.”

“This doesn’t even make sense,” Veritas mumbled, fingers rubbing circles into his temples. “You didn’t even have a plausible strategy.”

“Yeah, I did.” You placed a defensive hand over your heart. “You just don’t know it, because I have such a great poker face.”

“Chess doesn’t warrant a poker face.”

“Well, then, if you’re not willing to know my genius strategy–”

“No.” Veritas glared at you. “You will tell me.”

“Sure. I’m more worried about my reward, though.”

The look he gave you made you howl with laughter. It was a twist of his lips into something unsavoury as if he’d just swallowed a shot of vinegar. His brows knitted together and those unfairly long dark lashes casted a jagged shadow over his cheeks.

The chess board disappeared with a small noise and the screen returned to normal.

You leaned forward, batting your own lashes at him.

Veritas, after displaying a shaky grimace on his lips, met you halfway and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to your cheek.

You looked offended when he pulled back.

You whined. “What was that?”

“Your reward,” he argued.

“You just brushed your lips on me. Do you kiss everyone like that?” You were quite literally sulking, more so to get on his nerves.

It was working.

You swore you noticed a vein twinge on his temple. “I don’t just kiss anyone, thank you. Especially not over a game of chess.”

“You’re not getting my genius strategy, then.”

“Fine.”

This time, when his lips went for your cheek again, you turned your head.

Veritas let out an embarrassing noise that you’d never forget.

When he tried to pull away, clearly flustered and radiating so hot you were convinced he’d combust right there in his chair, you locked a hand in his hair.

Flustered for a moment, he then returned your enthusiasm ten fold, large hands curling around your waist and keeping the excited jittering of your legs still.

“Somebody will see,” he mumbled against your lips quietly.

To address his concerns, you dipped down lower in your seat behind the wall of his desk. Anyone that was watching would look away if they knew what was good for them.

Pulling away from his lips proved difficult. You caught the taste of his evening coffee, as well as the scent of cashmeran, and something that smelled faintly of chestnut and the smoky smell of a nice warm fireplace.

“You smell nice,” you whispered. Your voice was slightly hoarse. “What’re you wearing?”

The grin you had stretched on your face said it all.

Veritas snarled against your lips. “A physics degree.”

His lips hit your teeth when you grinned. “Can’t taste better than a chemistry degree.”

“You are horrible.”

Your hand crept along the waistband of his pants, feeling along the ribbons and the sleek expensive material. It was like cotton, but somehow even softer against your fingers, as if the thread count was bordering on six-hundred.

He reeled back when he finally processed the feeling of your fingertips slipping below his clothes. “Watch yourself.”

“Blah, blah, blah.” He made no effort to remove your hands, so a finger then hooked beneath the border of the hole over his chest. “Come ‘ere, Doctor.”

The light in your eyes was almost as intimidating as when you pressed your lips back into his, this time firmer, as if you were trying to mould your skin to his.

His skin was surprisingly warm for how cold he behaved. His scent was addicting. Freshly printed books and a warm winter’s night.

It tore a low and pleasant groan from your throat.

Surprisingly, he did not push away when your lips slipped from his mouth and traced the line of his jaw.

Instead, he sighed defeatedly and angled his jaw for you. You hummed, clearly content.

“Enjoying yourself?” he mused.

“Mhm.” You wondered whether he’d let you suck a bruise beneath his ear. “You’re soft. For a man.”

Veritas scoffed at that. He would insist that you were softer, but he instead bit his tongue. Of course he was soft. He took care of his skin, and he didn’t waste his life away drinking that filth you called soda.

He usually hated that artificial grape flavour, but he supposed the taste of your lips helped quell the awful amount of sugar still resting on your tongue.

He stiffened beneath you. He hadn’t even realised you had crawled into his lap. “Are you leaving marks?”

“Yep.” Your lips had dipped down to the base of his neck to stain the thin stretch of skin there.

“Oh, you–!” His eyes squeezed shut when your teeth carded along his jugular in warning.

The poor man looked two seconds away from a heart attack. His pupils almost turned to slits. He couldn’t tell whether he wanted to push you away or draw you closer. It was a mix of heat and blur that made his vision swirl with colour.

He felt unreasonably dizzy. He was grateful he was still sitting at his desk, for he was sure his knees would have given out beneath him otherwise.

Your lips pulled back for a moment. Sticky. He could smell a tinge of kiwi fruit from the gloss smeared over your lips. He was sure it was lathered all over his jaw like thick paste. The remaining hour of his shift would be a mix of rushing the rest of his report, and trying to scrub your makeup from his face.

Part of him wanted the stains to stay there, as unprofessional the thought was.

His silent brooding while your thighs warmed his were interrupted by approaching heels. Black kitten heels, to be exact, with a dark pinkish plum soles. He recognised her footsteps from miles away.

His heart stopped.

“Um… Doctor Ratio? I’m just receiving word that– oh my stars!”

Too late.

Veritas sprang from his seat, shoving you back into your own chair, much to your chagrin. Your hand fell from beneath the material of his shirt.

The damage had already been done, however.

Poor Lead Astronomer Asta stood frozen, face red, holding a clipboard with way too many pink highlighted paragraphs on the paper.

Veritas awkwardly cleared his throat, and tried to wipe the sticky gloss off his lips. “The report will be with you in an hour.”

Asta merely blinked at him. Her cheeks were brighter than her hair.

Her eyes then flitted towards you. She looked like she had seen a ghost.

You waved. “Hey, queen.”

Then, she nodded once in a greeting, squeaked an, “okay, thanks,” to the doctor and then rushed away, still hot in the face.

You could see the uneven rise and fall of Veritas’ chest. You were sure his heart was racing beneath his skin; yours was exactly the same, maybe arguably even quicker.

“Terrific.” Veritas turned his head to ridicule you. Scary for a dude with lipgloss smeared all over his face. “You’ve traumatised the poor girl.”

He heard you sigh. “I was just getting started.” You slouched in your chair, defeated. You checked your watch, noticing the giant seven tick over. “I’m hungry.”

“Eat, then. It’s dinner time.” He sat back down in his chair after he was sure he’d cleaned his face of your makeup.

“I was having dinner.” You finished the last of your soda and tapped at the can absentmindedly with your nails. “And was just getting to dessert.”

“You have an awful tongue.” He waved you off with his hands, fed up. “Now, shoo. I’m busy.”

“You’re so boring. What do you do for fun? Read?” He opened his mouth to answer, but you stopped him before he could embarrass himself even further. “Don’t answer that.”

Veritas rolled his eyes.

Instead, he chose to ignore you and pull the data back up onto his screen. His handwriting is still the most horrific thing you’ve ever seen, but it’s almost fascinating watching him write like that.

It’s just a line that only he can understand. Like his own nerd language.

You found it sort of hot.

Your eyes darted over to the bathroom door. “Hey, Doctor… What about–”

His eyes flared, and his grip on his pen grew tighter. He almost split a hole into the paper. "We are not having a rendezvous in the bathroom, nor will I be coming home with you.”

"Aww."

"But, for what's its worth, I commend your bravery in asking such a bizarre thing."

Ooh, praise. Lovely. "Eh." You clicked your tongue and leaned forward to kiss the side of his hair. “Worth a try.”

When you pull away, he does not look up, but his cheeks are tinged a lovely pink.

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #✦ ( the macrocosmos. )#( aka ‘is anybody gonna match my freak?’ the fic. )

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 1 year ago

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon needing to hold you after a bad day.

The tiny apartment was completely silent as Simon unlocked the door and stepped inside, head hung low and shoulders tense. Lights were turned down, tv was off; you were most likely already asleep by now. It was late, much later than he had told you he’d be back, but he had been struggling with the weight of his thoughts again today and had barely made it in. He would have let you know that he was going to be late… it was just…he couldn’t find the will to even shoot you a quick text.

It wasn’t like him to be concerned about who knew where he was or what he was doing, choosing to distance himself from everything and everyone that could potentially catch a glimpse of him cracking behind the mask, but right now all he wanted was to get back to the place he called home before he fell apart and the world would swallow him whole.

As quietly as he could he set his things down beside the door and continued on through the flat, catching little bits of you everywhere: your shoes lying scattered by the wall, the blanket you’d just been curled up in tossed haphazardly in a bundle on the sofa, a mug on the coffee table that had the remnants of your drink stuck to the inside. Scattered bits of you everywhere across his life as little reminders of what he had that waited for him here and for the first time all day it felt a little easier to breathe to know his angel was close by.

Passing near the kitchen, Simon spotted a piece of paper with his name scribbled on the front waiting for him on the countertop, your familiar handwriting obvious to his eye. He picked it up and unfolded it.

Hey baby,

I really tried to stay up, I promise, but you know how work has been kicking my ass lately. I thought maybe I could just take a nap until you got in, but I was worried that if I laid down I wouldn’t wake up, so I thought I’d leave this here for you to find. Didn’t want you to think I forgot about you. Just wake me when you get in, alright? I don’t care what time it is, I want to see you!

Love you.

P.S. I left some dinner in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet. We can reheat it and eat it together. XOXO

Christ, what did he do to deserve all this?

Always looking out for him, always making sure he had a place back in the real world whenever he came home. He held that piece of paper between his hardened fingers, the note more significant than it should have been after the type of day he had. You were the closest to heaven as he could get, more than he ever thought he would get to have and that’s why it was you he was trying to break down that wall to come to for comfort.

His sight flicked to the fridge where you said you’d left him something; he was definitely starving, but just the thought of the effort it would take to eat right now was too much and the knot that rested in the pit of his stomach made him too nauseous anyway. There was something that would fill him far better than food could and he knew just where to find it now.

Moving on to the living room, he set himself down heavily on the couch and began to remove his boots and the outer layers of his clothing along with his mask, stripping away all the bits of his life as the stone cold sniper now that he was safe here in his little sanctuary. Stripped bare until he was down to his boxers, Simon gently crept towards the back of the apartment hoping he would make it to the bedroom before this feeling took him.

Closer and closer he walked towards the other half of his heart.

The door stood slightly ajar to invite him inside and as he stepped up to it, he caught the hushed, rhythmic sounds of your breathing as you slumbered. It sounded so peaceful that he could have stood there in the dimly lit hallway and listen to it all night long. Just a few more steps, barely any distance left, and he would truly be home.

The room was completely dark save for the small crack in the curtains that let in just a bit of light from the streetlamp outside, helping him to find his way through the maze of darkness. As those brown eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Simon turned his attention to the bed and his heart skipped a beat. There you were: the outline of your body silhouetted under the covers, your head buried in your pillow, all cares left behind as you slept.

No sound did he make as he crept to the edge of the bed and lifted the sheets so that he could climb inside and up against your body laying in the center. One strong arm slipped up under your pillowed head while the other wrapped around your waist until you were encircled and he pulled you slowly so that your back rested up against his chest. His body molded into yours still warm from being wrapped up tight.

You stirred awake gently at the feeling of that familiar large body suddenly laying beside you. “Hey you,” you whispered sleepily, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered as they worked to open. “Tried to wait up, but I got so tired I had to go lay down. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.”

Only silence greeted you as a response. No chuckle at your predictability, no picking remarks about how you couldn’t even stay up to see him, just the sound of labored breaths in and out as he lay there in the darkness curled up against you.

Silence only meant one thing and you knew it well.

“You okay baby?” you asked, but again there was no answer. Only the squeeze of his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter to his chest gave you any sort of reply as Simon’s nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes brushing over your skin.

It was clear just from the silence that he was far from okay, that he must have been bottling this up for God knows how many hours so that the world would not see that he was not always the tough, put together soldier he was supposed to be. But he could not hide it from you...he didn't want to hide it from you.

You heard him inhale deeply, trying to capture as much of your scent as he could until it filled his head: your natural musk mixed with the smell of the sheets and added hints of shampoo and body wash. That comforting scent that belonged to only you that he couldn't ever get enough of, the one that helped to relax his troubled mind. Instantly the tension he had been carrying like a boulder upon his shoulders all day finally released him from its stranglehold.

Gentle, exploring hands tentatively went up under your baggy shirt, one of his old worn ones you loved to wear to bed to keep him close even when he wasn’t there, as he just wanted to make contact with all that delicately soft skin. He traced over curved paths he knew by touch alone: it was soft, it was familiar, it was safe and his heartbeat slowed as the ache in his chest dissipated enough that he could finally talk.

“Bad day,” he whispered finally, warm breath against your shoulder. "Really fuckin' bad day... again."

You rolled over in his arms until you came face to face with those sad auburn eyes, moved by the shame in his tone. It broke your heart that each time he had one of these days he felt such guilt about it, as if he simply should have been over it all by now, as if he wasn't human, but you were not about to let him overthink the struggle. There was nothing to be shameful about.

“I’m sorry baby. These things just happen, you know, but its alright; we'll get through it together, ” you said quietly, fingertips gently running over the line of his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and further to his jaw in soothing circles.

Together.

Simon closed his eyes and eased into your hand as you traced patterns across his temple and through the cropped sides of his hair, letting the vile, churning thoughts rummaging around in his brain to fall away. No one else could ever see him like this save for you, no one else's touch he craved more than anything to bring him back into himself after the day had brought him down so low.

He brought his hand up and placed the tough palm over top of yours to hold it firmly against his cheek as if to make sure that all of this was real, that you were not simply a mirage cast by his broken mind.

“You’re home now, baby,” you reassured him as he took deep breaths in and out with his eyes closed, only wanting to feel you. “It’s gonna be okay, I got you.”

Home, still such a strange word for him.

Wherever you were that was home. Not a place, but a person, one who made certain that no matter how far he drifted she would always pull him back in. Simon had never had such a tether before, but fuck did he need it. He could feel it like medicine running through his blood, when you held him he could feel the chemicals rush to soothe the gaping wound in his heart.

Pulling your hand off his cheek, he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the surface before leaning in to give one to your gentle lips. You embraced him back with such tenderness as if to remind him of that promise you had made to each other that neither of you would have to traverse the hell of this world alone.

“Home,” he repeated the tender word in his gravely tone, letting the emotionless second mask fall away. "I hope ya know... that you are my home, sweetheart."

You smiled. "You're mine too, Simon."

He took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "Bein' near ya is the only fuckin' thing that seems to help quiet the shit in my 'ead these days."

Pulling him back in, you gave him another kiss. "Then get nice and close," you said softly as you squirmed up under him more, setting his arm back over you.

Securing his arms around you again he moved over top of you so that his head rested against the middle of your chest, ear pressed in against your sternum to listen to your heartbeat rhythmically thump inside. With his hand still inside your shirt he drew his fingertips along your bare hips, not wanting anything more than your company tonight.

Your calming fingers ran through his short hair and over his scalp as he counted the beats of your heart until he melted into your body. Discussion could happen later if and when he was ready, for now this was all he needed. However long he wanted to cling to your torso, you’d let him.

You were his life raft, pulling him back in and no matter how far he drifted and it was because of you that for the first time in his life he didn’t feel like he was going to get lost.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simin ghost riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley fluff #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #ghost #cod ghost #ghost call of duty

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rafescvntyclubgf · 4 months ago

Text

⭐ Republished ⭐

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝟑

𝟿.𝟼𝙺 𝚃𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝

3.8k

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚟𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

📖 Rafe is your boyfriend… You just don’t know it yet.

⚠️ warnings contain spoliers ⚠️

swearing, Stalking, pet names, degradation, namecalling, public masturbation, dark!rafe, mean!rafe, perv!rafe, mentions of cum play, mentions of unprotected P in V, ownership kink, mentions of rough oral, violence, threats, blackmail, fighting, blood, gore, mentions of sextortion, Rafe sneaks into the reader’s room, panty stealing, panty sniffing, takes pictures of the reader’s private images, cum tasting, oral male receiving, oral female receiving, twist dark reader, mutual obsession, rough oral, gagging, kissing, reader doesn’t ask rafe if he wants to go further than oral but he does and she starts anyway, messy sex, squirting, praise, drinking, smoking, mentions of drug use

✨ “Just do it, baby girl,” I moan, watching as she pinches her top button. I grab mine as well, tugging it open with her. I hiss at the sensation of my rock-hard cock in my hand, feeling some relief. This is the first time I’ve touched myself all day. I was edging myself as I studied her Instagram and TikTok page, saving my favorites to my phone. When I saw her in the parking lot, I swear I could have cum untouched. ✨

Rafe’s POV:

“So, class. What does its structure contribute to the poem “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night?” The professor drones on, sliding her reading glasses down her nose as she looks out onto the lecture hall. I shrink in my seat slightly, along with the other boys, doing my best to avoid her gaze.

Required reading, my ass. Did she honestly expect us to read this shit on a Thursday night? Barely drug my ass outta bed for class. Thank fuckin’ god. I relax in my seat as one of the front-row nerds saves the basic population who doesn’t give a fuck.

“Repetition. The poet used it to stress his key theme for his readers.”

I nod, scribbling a little line of nothingness on my paper, keeping up with the facade. That shit went in one ear and out the next. “Hey, Cameron.” My frat brother elbows me on the side. “You good for the kegs?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. What else can daddy get you?” I sneer as I roll my eyes at Billy, who laughs and scoffs. “I get paid back first, plus 10%. Get me a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle; I ain’t drinkin’ Coors, and I ain’t pickin’ that shit up either.”

“Thanks, daddy,” he responds in a breathy voice, snatching the wad of cash off my hands. “We need ten kegs between the Deltas and Phi Mu… You good for that-”

“Fuck you, ‘Am I good for that’?” I cut him short through a breathy laugh. “You’re holdin’ the cash in your hands, bitch. Stop askin’. Add an extra 5% for questionin’ me-”

“Rafe.” My stomach sinks as my professor’s eyes zero in on mine. “Am I interrupting something?” The old bird cocks an eyebrow, her annoyance visible, matching my own.

“No,” I answer simply, crossing my arms across my chest and relaxing at my desk.

“Splendid. I assume you know the answer then. Correct?” She challenges me, trying to catch me off guard. A smirk pulls on her lips as she does just that. Cunt.

“I agree.”

“The key insight about death in the poem is, ‘I agree’?” She belittles. I stare at her blankly, blinking a few times to let her know she’s wasting her time. She’s not gettin’ shit out of me. I’ve got an A in this class, bitch. What’re you gonna do about it?

She chuckles weakly, shaking her head at my resistance. “Am I wrong, ma’am? I have a bit of conversational anxiety… If you’d like to repeat the question, I’d love to try again,” I ask through a shit-eating smirk, letting my sarcasm drip all the way through, irritating her even more.

“Anyone else?” She invites in a shrill voice as she dismisses me, looking around the room to find another. Some of my frat brothers snicker in the back, making the professor’s features even more rigid. “Miss. Y/n?” Her demeanor changes instantly, shaking off my defiance, moving on to another one of her perfect pets.

Who’s that?

Holy shit. I swallow hard, feeling my mouth dry up as I see her. She twiddles her fluffy pink pen, acknowledging the teacher with a smile. Y/n? Jesus fuckin’ Christ. How have I never seen her before? I watch as a football player shuffles down the row of the lecture hall. My question, answered in a moment as his broad shoulders cut off my line of sight. No. I stretch back, cranking my neck to get her in my sights again.

“The key insight’s that death should be fought against, even though it is inevitable.” Her beautiful voice fills the lecture hall like a song. The teacher smiles at her again, praising y/n for her correct answer. Y/n grins and nods, averting her eyes as she catches the room’s focus. Her cheeks blush the prettiest shade of pink, matching her glossy lips.

Those lips… I lick my own, thinking about the way they would look wrapped around my cock, drool running down her chin as she deepthroats my dick. I’d grip that little ponytail like a handlebar, using her mouth like a toy. I chuckle at myself, still surprised that my mind went there almost instantly, but I know myself too well. I am who I am.

Y/n looks so goddamn innocent… Not for long. She’s a slut for praise. I can tell. I can work with that.

My eyes work lower, following the curve of her cleavage in her low-cut shirt. Fuck, I can’t wait to get her on top; watch ‘em bounce in my face. I’m gonna cum all over her perfect rack. Tiddie fuck her while she cries for daddy’s dick. Smear that shit- “Earth to Rafe?” I grit my teeth as I’m torn from my fantasy. “Buddy, you good?” Billy chuckles, his voice taunting as he follows my focus to her. “Mmm… Y/n,” he sighs blissfully. “So fuckin’ hot, bro. She’s a Phi Mu girl.”

“No shit?”

“Mhmm… Transferred from LSU. Smart, funny, sexy… But she’s mine, buddy. Aight? Been layin’ down groundwork all semester.” He elbows me playfully, chuckling to himself, actually believing his own words.

“All semester, and you haven’t made a move?” I spit, eyes rolling in his direction. This whole conversation is laughable. Has he been sitting on this all semester? Really? She was mine the second I looked at her, buddy. You’re done.

“Long game,” he defends himself.

“Long game?” I scoff. “Doesn’t sound like you got any game at all...”

“Hey. Fuck off… I know she wants me. Her bedroom faces mine and she doesn’t even close the curtains when she changes anymore; she texts me all the time. See?” He gloats as he thumbs through his phone. I don’t even bother myself with the semantics. Why the fuck does that shit matter? What’s he gettin’ at? “I’m gonna help ‘em after class. They have some car wash fundraiser downtown.”

Is that so? “I like the sound of that,” I smile, feeling my cock growing stiff in my jeans at the thought of seeing her in next to nothing, wet and soapy no less.

“You can’t just take her from me, Rafe,” Billy mutters in annoyance. A laugh rumbles in my chest as I take in his empty words. “I’m not fuckin’ around. She’s mine.”

My head turns slowly in his direction as he bends in mine. I mean, the guy’s big, but I’m bigger. He can fight, but he’s not willing to see that shit through. Billy’s got that moral compass that urges him to stop where I couldn’t care less. And he knows it.

He balls his hands up in fists at his desk, jaw tightening as he does his best to intimidate me one last time. My boy’s a bitch.

“Mine.”

I study her movements as she glides through the halls. Her hair bounces with each step brushing along her backpack, half-hiding her perfect ass. Her bum shakes a little as she walks, just a tease for me. Y/n slight skirt grazes just a few inches below her ass, leaving her bare legs on display.

I wonder what they’d look like over my shoulder… Spread wide on my bed as I devoured her perfect pussy. Damn. I bet she makes some pretty sounds. I can’t wait to hear that, to see her face, as she squirts all over my mouth and cock.

Where are you going, pretty girl?

She hooks a left, heading toward the coffee shop. I continue to follow my girl, watching as she strolls inside. Y/n walks toward the line, stalling next to the case of pastries, eyeing the bottom. Do it for daddy, baby. C’mon. There you go… She drops down, surveying the options. That goddamn ass… Does she know I’m watching? She’s gotta know. The paisley material tugs higher on her thighs, a peek of her round ass poking out the bottom.

She stands up again, taking another step, moving with the traffic flow. Y/n reaches into her purse, pulling out her phone. She smiles as she looks at the screen. Billy Hargrove 💕. I feel my heart pick up pace, my breathing quickening; rage boils inside me.

I gave him an order. This shit’s not up to him. I roll the tension out of my neck, fingers twisting into fists of my own. Where’s the fucking loyalty? She bites her bottom lip and smiles at the message, making me physically ill.

I’ve got distracted by her… Say somethin’ to make her forget about that.

“Uh, hey,” I rasp. Y/n continues to type up a little message. “Y/n?” I reach out, resting my hand on her arm.

“Oh, hi… Umm, Rafe?” She says my name, making everything stand still. I look down at the beautiful eyes and soft, pouty lips, the corners of which curl into a sweet smile.

“Uh, yeah,” I answer, trying to level my tone. “We’re in class together.”

“Yeah… She’s kind of a bitch. Right?” Y/n asks weakly as her eyes soften on mine, showing me pity like my feelings might have been hurt by that little exchange between the professor and me.

“Yeah, she sucks,” I laugh lightly, tossing my head down in fake shame. “The boys and I got a little rowdy last night. I didn’t read that shit. Did you? I mean, obviously-”

“On my way to class,” she giggles as she looks around playfully for our professor.

My mouth falls into an open smile. “Naughty girl. Coast is clear, by the way,” I rasp through a little laugh.

“Good,” Y/n sighs as she tucks some hair behind her ear.

“You’re really smart.” I praise, watching her cheeks blushing again, this time closer than before, making my heart bang in my chest.

“Thank you. Oh, umm, you’re a Delta. Right?” She asks, solidifying her answer as she eyes the embroidery on my polo.

“I am. And you’re Phi Mu?” Y/n grins as she nods in reply. “I’m headed over to your car wash after this.”

“Awesome. Yeah, Lyndsey was worried that the University might question where the money came from if we made anything off selling beer tonight.”

“A cover-up?” I smile down at her as I stuff my hands in my jeans.

“Mhmm,” she breathes. “The party’s gonna be huge. Do you think we’ll get busted?”

I chuckle at the sweet nativity of her question. “‘Course we will. Over 500 students in one place… But it’s a block party. Right? So they won’t be able to pinpoint anybody. Not usin’ the frat’s money directly. Cash. The boys are gonna pay me back as they sell cups. Untraceable.”

“Aww. That’s so nice of you,” she smiles. Her demeanor hasn’t faltered since we’ve spoken. She doesn’t seem to care about the material shit; my Breitling watch, the gold rings on my fingers. Her face didn’t light up when I dropped the fact that I would buy beer for the masses. She just said it was nice… Fuck, she’s perfect.

“I try… But, if we get busted, I’ll blame it on some beautiful Phi girl I know.”

She gasps playfully, smacking me in the chest. “You wouldn’t!” Everything tenses in my body as I fight back my arousal, covering the growing excitement in my slacks with my notebook.

Y/n looks over my shoulder, catching the girl’s eyes behind me as she tells us to move forward. “Sorry,” Y/n sighs apologetically, clearing the open space between us and the register. Y/n steps up to the counter, ordering a latte and a muffin before reaching into her purse.

“Oh, shit. No. Sorry! Let me,” I breathe as I hurry to her side. “I’ll pay for whatever she’s havin’ and a coffee for me: one cream, one sugar. Thank you.”

“Wow. Thank you, Rafe. You didn’t need to do that,” she coos.

“No problem, y/n.”

Gifts… That’s what my girl likes.

Well, shit. She’s gonna need a grand gesture. I can sneak into her room tonight. Check the essentials: dress size, music taste; the little things she enjoys.

I’ll take a look at her nightstand. How could I not? Gotta know what she uses to please herself so I know what I’m working with and what it takes to get her there. I want to know her better than she knows herself.

I follow along, trying to keep my eyes on her face, but I can’t help but roam her body. I’ve never seen anything like it, never seen anything so perfect for me. I never wanted anything so bad.

The barista walks over, setting down my coffee. I suck my teeth, regretting my choice, knowing if I got the same shit as her, I could have stayed. But I shouldn’t. “I’ll come by. Yeah? Don’t kill me… I gotta big ass truck, and she’s dirty as shit.”

“No worries,” she smiles sweetly. “I’ll see you there, Rafe. Oh, and thanks for the coffee again.” She reaches out, resting her hand on my arm.

“Of course, sweetheart.” I test a pet name, watching her smile widen. Just gorgeous.

I step away, walking towards the door. Looking over my shoulder as Y/n pulls out her phone, that same smile for Billy setting on her perfect lips.

He’s fucking dead.

I pull up toward the parking lot, falling into the line of cars; a caravan of dicks with their windows already rolled down. Fuckin’ dogs. I lean out as well, surveying the scene looking for her. Jesus fuckin’ Christ. I watch the gaggle of girls prancing around in their bikinis, excitement building as I frantically look for her.

My heart skips as I see her sporting the most clothes, donning yet the sluttiest outfit of them all. She’s an absolute fuckin’ tease in her cut-off jean shorts and white t-shirt, soaked with water. The material clings to her curves, teasing me with her little triangle top, gathered slightly, barely covering her tits.

She leans over and reaches into the bucket, pulling out a sponge before ringing out the soap. A guy rolls down the window of his Mercedes, bending his neck to watch as she washes the side. I can already tell where this is goin’. He smirks, watching her ass as she leans down, cleaning the rear fender. “Aww, sweetheart,” he soughs, “Uhh…You missed a spot.” Y/n smiles sweetly, lowering to where she was before, making me huff out an aggravated breath.

Her friend walks over with a hose, spraying down the suds that y/n left behind. Tori Clarence, a late-night Delta regular. She says something that makes Y/n laugh. Y/n claps back, teasing her sister through a wicked smile. Tori lifts the gun, spraying y/n with a stream of water, hitting her directly on her tits.

Y/n gasps as her shirt turns from milky white to practically see-through, the chilly water running down her perfect body, making her nipple hard. She panics to get warm, reaching for the bottom of her shirt. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. She pulls it over her body: soft skin, perfect boobs, and wet hair. Little lines of water cascade down her bare skin, rounding her curves catching on the denim of her shorts. Her eyes fall down her body, eyeing her damp state.

“Just do it, baby girl,” I moan, watching as she pinches her top button. I grab mine as well, tugging it open with her. I hiss at the sensation of my rock-hard cock in my hand, feeling some relief. This is the first time I’ve touched myself all day. I was edging myself as I studied her Instagram and TikTok page, saving my favorites to my phone. When I saw her in the parking lot, I swear I could have cum untouched.

I start to fist my cock as she leans over the trunk, her body perfectly positioned like I’m taking her from the back. Goddamn. I’d snake my rough hand up her soft skin, following the curve of her arched spine, drifting into her hair. I’d pull it back, feeling her pussy clench around my big dick. I’d spank her, cracking her tight little ass with the palm of my hand, leaving her red and bruised. Just one of the many ways I’d mark my girl. “Fuck, Y/n,” I moan her name as heat radiates through my body.

She walks along the side of the next car, letting me see her little triangle top: light blue, thin material, the blush of nipples visible. I roll my hand over my tip, whimpering at the sensation, imagining myself hitting the back of her throat as tears pool in her pretty, innocent eyes. Y/n looking up at daddy, mascara running down her cheeks as she throats me like the slut I know she can be. I’d hold her head in my hands, using her mouth to stroke my cock. My perfect little toy…

Fuck. I got a Fleshlight with her name on it. I’m gonna use those pictures when I get home… Gotta get myself ready for tonight. She has no clue what she’s in for. What I wouldn’t give to have my cock in her hand instead of my own. I’d make her jerk me off as she pleaded for my dick deep in that pretty tight cunt. I bet she’s so goddam wet. So, so fuckin’ tight.

“I know, baby. Daddy’s gonna give you his dick. Don’t worry,” I mumble, feeling my breathing start to increase with my pleasure. I thrust into my hand, fucking up into my fist as I watch her undo the loosened side strings of her bikini, tightening it again.

I eye the sign, catching the time. 11-4 PM. Yes… They’ll be here all afternoon. Just need to make a pit stop. Grab a pair of panties. Whatever I can get. I need to taste her. Stuff ‘em in my mouth as I study my prize. My hips stutter as I feel myself about to bust, imagining just how sweet she’ll taste. I work myself quicker, taking hold of my steering wheel as I rut into my hand.

‘Rafe. Rafe. Rafe.’ I can hear it now. See my little whore creamin’ on my cock as I give it to her over and over again.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby girl. Where do you want it?”

‘Deep in my pussy… Please, baby’. She’ll whimper and beg, pleading to get stuffed full. I’m gonna brush my fingers over her swollen clit, making her gush all over my cock and thighs, wetting everything around us until I’m pumping her full of my cum.

I’ll watch it drip out of her puffy pink hole, fucking it right back in, cleaning the rest off with my tongue before spitting it in her mouth.

My perfect cumslut.

I need it drippin’ out of her for days. Watchin’ my little angel walk into class, knowing just how good I dicked her down. I’ll watch her from my seat as she cleans the little cum tear off her inner thigh, slipping it between her lips as her eyes flick to mine, sucking it clean.

No one will have her again. “She was made for me.” The thought alone has my hand faltering; jaw falling slack. My stomach sinks, eyes doubling as she looks in my direction, matching my gaze. “Fuckkk…” My eyes roll back in my skull, toes curling, head thrown to the headrest as I cum harder than I ever have. Shit. I don’t even care if she saw. If she’s any girl of mine, she’d want to see it anyway.

My dirty little whore.

I look down at my jizz covered hand and lap. Goddamnit. I clear the gap between my car and the next before ripping off my shirt and wiping away my mess. I flip my hat on, snagging my protein shaker bottle from the passenger’s seat floor as I try to disguise the real reason I’m covered head to toe in sweat. I do my best to control my breathing, still running high from my climax, hit with the post-nut clarity that she may have seen it all.

She looks happy to see me… Real happy. Y/n smiles, making my heart race again as I meet her gorgeous eyes. She greets me happily, trotting up to my truck. “How are you doin’, sweetheart?”

She dunks her hand into the soapy bucket, grabbing a sponge. “Livin’ the dream,” y/n smiles, moving closer than expected. I take in her perfume, already so familiar to me, the smell of it revving me right up again.

“Sorry. I’m a sweaty mess,” I sigh. Her gaze falls down my body, studying me with a bashful smile.

“Just got done with a workout?” She asks.

“Mhmm…” I smile and nod in reply. “Pay now? Pay later?” I invite as I snag my wallet.

“Now,” she sings. “Donation based, so whatever you’re willing to give.” I thumb through my wallet, plucking out $200.

“Rafe…” She breathes, taking it off my hands. “Are you sure? This is a little much.” Y/n looks down at the cash in her hands before meeting my eyes again.

“Positive,” I assure.

“Well, that is very nice, Rafe Cameron,” she coos. Y/n uses my last name, making my stomach drop. She wouldn’t have known my last name unless she did some digging. I didn’t give it to her; I never said anything in class before today. She must have looked me up on Instagram or Snapchat… Maybe she asked one of her sisters about me.

I fight off a wide smile as she gets started on the car. She takes her time, putting in a little more effort than the cars before. She walks to the front of the cab, leaning over, breast jiggling as she swirls and circles the sponge on the hood. She rises a little higher on her tippy toes, unable to reach the rest.

“Here you go, babe.” Her friend sets down a ladder for Y/n. She bends over once more, the angle alone making my cock rock hard again as I imagine us fucking raw. Tonight… I’ll bend her over on the bathroom counter, just like she is now, the bass of the party on the street not even loud enough to cover her cries and my moans. I’ll pound into her as the slaps of our skin fill the bathroom. Her eyes shift to mine, catching my stare. She doesn’t drop focus, keeping her eyes on me as she continues to scrub. A smirk spreads on her lips, mirroring my own.

Baby girl…

Y/n steps down from the ladder before walking to her friend, grabbing the hose off her hands; taking her job instead. She sprays down the truck, cleaning off the suds. The light breeze catches the flow of water, sending little beads of it flying, catching on her perfect skin. My mouth waters as I imagine licking the glaze of it off her skin. Fuck… I don’t think I can take this.

“Alright, Mr. Cameron. You’re all set,” she smiles as she eyes her work. I bite my lip and nod.

“Thank you, princess. See you tonight.”

I pull forward, watching her from my wing mirror as she greets the next car. Her excitement fades as she welcomes the next. Good fuckin’ girl.

Next stop, Phi Mu.

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 2

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punkshort · 27 days ago

Text

Evergreen | Chapter Four: Depression

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: With some comforting words from Sarah and Daniel, you and Joel work things out.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, hurt/comfort, grief, soft!joel, smut (18+ MDNI), oral f!receiving, lil size kink, unprotected piv sex, feelings, therapy

WC: 8.3K

Series Masterlist

Daniel's office was always the hardest room to spend any amount of time in since his death, but the hurt compounded even more when you were reminded of the first time you kissed Joel on the green couch in the corner.

You weren't even sure what you were doing. The idea of moving out of town wasn't concrete, per se, but you still found yourself packing up Daniel's office. What started simple enough with taping up open boxes of books turned into almost two hours of scrutinizing every single item in his desk. Business cards, scribbled notes, old bills, and a few pictures of the two of you filled his junk drawer. Half used pens, a calculator, an old pair of glasses and the medal his university granted him when he went back to give a commencement speech three years prior filled another. But what ultimately drew your attention was a yellow legal pad shoved underneath his laptop. Pages and pages and pages of notes filled a decent chunk of it. From what you could tell, it was an outline for the next book he was in the middle of writing, the very same manuscript you had given to Ellie. Most of it didn't make sense to you, but you read it anyway. Your fingertips traced over his familiar, elegant handwriting. It was one of the things you loved about Daniel when you first met. He didn't have terrible chicken scratch like most men you knew. He took his time when he wrote. He savored every letter. Each word was a beautiful mix of print and cursive that was so uniquely him.

Your eyes grew a little misty as you admired each page of notes, but you weren't sad. On the contrary, you felt happy. You felt connected to him again, if only just for a brief few minutes. But when you got to the last page, what you read stole your breath and destroyed the resolve you managed to build up.

To the love of my life. My better half. My biggest fan and toughest critic.

I can't wait to marry you, my love. I look forward to lazy Sunday mornings with your homemade waffles and my terrible coffee for the rest of our lives. You deserve the world. Someone to worship at your feet and be there for you when you're feeling weak. I've got no idea why you've chosen me, but every day I wake up eternally grateful you did. Just know you will make me happy until my dying breath, and I hope I am able to do the same for you.

The only thing I ever want in this life is to see you happy.

Tears streamed down your face. You had to shove the pad of paper away before drops fell on the page and ruined Daniel's last message to you. Swiveling around, you opened a few drawers until you found a box of tissues, then you buried your face in your hands and wept. Wept for the life you could have had with Daniel and for the one you foolishly threw away with Joel. Shockingly, his words managed to ease the guilt that had settled heavy in your chest for the past week. While he had been talking about himself being the one to make you happy in his dedication, you knew Daniel. He wasn't a selfish man. He was caring and sweet and kind. And he wouldn't want you to be miserable and lonely for the rest of your life. He truly was always happy whenever you were happy.

Joel was like that, too. He was so different from Daniel in many ways, but at their core, they were the same. They were soft and trusting and loving. They cared so deeply for you and wanted to make you happy. Both were so gentle and careful with you, patient and funny. It was no wonder you found yourself drawn to Joel in the first place.

Your doorbell chimed unexpectedly downstairs, followed by an urgent rap on the door. You frowned and snatched up a new tissue so you could dab at your cheeks while you made your way down the steps. Glancing out the window on the bottom stair, you saw a small, unfamiliar sedan in your driveway. You hesitated for just a moment with your hand hovering over the doorknob, wondering who it could be. Not many people stopped by your house. The paranoid part of you wondered if it was a reporter, the trauma from being harassed after Daniel's passing still living somewhere deep inside. But then a young girl's voice drifted through from the other side, startling you.

"Hey, please open up. It's Sarah," she said, then paused before adding, "Joel's daughter."

You shakily unlocked the door and swung it open. She appeared slightly disheveled, like she was in a hurry. Or maybe you were just reading her energy because she certainly came off rushed.

"Is everything okay?" you asked her. Visions of Joel at a job site pinned under some heavy beams flashed through your mind, an unexpected knee jerk reaction that was no doubt trauma from the car accident with Daniel.

"Yeah, everything's fine - sorry," she said immediately when she realized how it must have looked to show up at your door out of the blue. "I was hoping we could talk. Do you have a minute?"

"Oh! Uh, yeah," you said, glancing over your shoulder before opening your door wider for her. "Come on in."

You watched her slide off her sneakers and you closed the door before pointing towards the kitchen.

"Can I get you something to eat or drink? I have-"

"No, thank you. I don't think I have a ton of time, actually," she said, worrying her lower lip as she glanced out the front window towards your driveway.

"Well, alright. Here, have a seat," you replied, ushering her into the sitting room. She sunk down onto your sofa and you paused for a moment before choosing to sit in the soft leather chair across from her. Sarah's hands fidgeted in her lap as her eyes swept across the room, taking in every detail of the old Victorian home before letting her gaze linger on a few framed photos of you and Daniel on the mantle.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out, tearing her eyes away to look at you. "I'm so fucking sorry. I was rude and I had no right to treat you the way I did. I know it's not an excuse but I was just... surprised. I guess when I thought my dad was ready to move on, he would have dated someone closer to his age." Sarah took a steadying breath while you remained silent, stunned by her sudden outburst. "Then I realized it wasn't really about the age thing. I don't think it would have mattered who he dated. It was just... weird, I guess."

Sarah shamefully stared down at her fingers tangled in her lap, waiting for you to wrap your head around her apology.

"Uh, wow. Well... thank you. That means a lot to me," you told her with a soft sniffle. "Your dad always spoke so much about you, it felt like I knew you, in a way. After everything the two of you had been through, I don't blame you one bit."

She risked a glance up at you, eyes all wide and watery.

"Really? Just like that?"

You smiled and nodded.

"Of course. I'm not going to hold it against you," you shrugged. "We weren't really trying to keep it a secret from you, just so you know. It was more like we were taking it slow and seeing where things went." Your eyes drifted to a photo of you and Daniel on the wall and your chest tightened. "It wasn't - it was hard for us both."

Sarah followed your gaze and felt the guilt creep back up.

"I know. My dad told me about your fiancé. I'm so sorry," she said, turning to look at you. "I loved his books. He was so creative. Like, the worlds he built up were so incredible and beautiful. He was one of my favorite authors." Then she remembered the gift you had given Joel and she added, "Thank you for those books. The ones you gave my dad. They're absolutely stunning and I promise to take good care of them, I know those are rare editions."

Your face lit up. "You're welcome. He would have wanted someone like you to have them. He was so appreciative of his readers for giving him a platform to live his dream."

"He sounded like a really great guy," she said sympathetically.

"He was," you replied softly. "After the accident, I could hardly get out of bed for weeks. I thought my life was over. I know how dramatic that sounds but I never thought I'd be able to move on, until-"

You cut yourself off, but Sarah knew what you were going to say. She inched forward on the couch with her eyebrows knit together.

"Could you please give him another chance?" she pleaded. "I don't want to see him lonely. I don't want you to be lonely. And, shit... you were getting him to actually exercise and eat vegetables!"

You laughed and shook your head.

"I didn't ask him to do that."

"But he was doing it because of you," she protested. "I've been trying to get him to eat better for years and he knows you a few weeks and suddenly he's chopping up peppers for dinner. It's definitely you."

You felt your cheeks warm as you let your eyes wander aimlessly around the room, surrounded by the memories of your first true love while sitting across from the extension of your second.

"Okay. I'll give him a call," you relented. When your eyes found hers again, she was looking out your window.

"I don't think that's necessary," she said, standing up. The corner of her mouth twitched and when you heard a car door slam in your driveway, you jumped up from your chair. You had barely made it three steps before you heard Joel rapping loudly on your front door.

"Ugh, Dad, you're filthy," Sarah scolded when she swung open the door with a frown.

"What're you doin' here?" he asked, wild eyes glancing over her shoulder. "Where's-"

He stopped short when you stepped into view behind her, giving him a shy wave. Sarah shifted to the side with a sly smile, eyes darting back and forth between you and Joel. Neither of you spoke. There was so much to say but you had no idea how to start. Then your gaze drifted down his frame, taking in his dusty jeans, boots, and black work tshirt. Memories of the day you visited him at work for lunch flashed through your mind and you swallowed tightly.

"O-okay," Sarah said, slowly drawing the word out when she bent over to slide her sneakers back on. "My work is done here. I'll leave you to it."

Joel blinked and tore his eyes away from you to look at his daughter, who was in the process of squeezing past him.

"What'dya mean?"

"Nothing. Just wanted to clear the air. Rest is up to you, old man," she teased, poking him in the shoulder. She gave you a friendly wave goodbye before skipping down the porch steps and back towards her car.

Joel's head swiveled back and forth between you and his daughter, still confused and trying to figure out what to do but when Sarah backed out of your driveway and disappeared down the street with a playful honk of her horn, his choice was made.

He turned back to look at you. Now that Sarah was gone and the initial bewilderment wore off, Joel's nerves began to make his heart thump faster and sweat collect under his collar.

"Do you, um," you glanced into your home over your shoulder before meeting his eye again. "Would you like to come inside?"

"Yes," he replied far too eagerly, making you smile when you held the door open for him. He toed off his boots and cringed. "Sorry for the mess. Was just gettin' home from work and found them two stirrin' shit up so I just raced on over."

"That's alright, I don't mi- wait, two?"

Joel nodded and followed you into your kitchen.

"Ellie came by lookin' for me 'n found Sarah," he explained, delicately sitting down at the kitchen table and praying he didn't leave a trail of dust behind him. The thought of sullying your beautiful home, the place where you found peace, irked him.

"Ellie?" you repeated, voice laced with surprise as you scooped coffee grounds into the filter. "Why did Ellie stop by?"

"To tell me you're skippin' town," he replied bluntly.

Your finger froze on the button of the coffee maker. Shit.

"That's not entirely true," you replied feebly. You turned around, leaning against the counter with your arms crossed protectively over your chest. Fuck, why did he have to look so good? Sitting there in your kitchen after a long day at work watching you mill around had your mind wandering, wondering what it would be like to have him come home to you just like that every single day.

"It was something I was considering," you continued. "My parents have been hounding me to move back home."

"Thought you wanted to stay in Texas," he said softly. You watched his finger anxiously dig into the side of your table.

"I did. I mean, I do. It's just..." you trailed off and looked around the room. Your throat grew tight when you said, "I can't live in this house anymore, Joel. I love it, but... I don't - I can't-"

Tears welled up in your eyes. You cast your gaze down to the floor, not noticing when Joel stood up and crossed the room until you smelled the familiar scent of sawdust and peppermint right in front of you.

You didn't even allow yourself to think. You just stepped forward, burying your face in his chest and wrapping your arms around his middle. Squeezing your eyes shut tight, you let the tears silently fall while he held you close, murmuring into your hair that you were going to be alright.

"Don't go," he whispered when your tears had slowed and the coffee pot pinged, alerting you it was finished brewing. Your fingers tightly gripped at his shirt.

"Joel-"

"Please," he begged, pulling back just far enough so you could see the vulnerability etched across his face. "I'm sorry I didn't make you stay that night. I'm sorry I didn't run after you. When I met you, you took me by surprise, darlin', and I'm way outta my area of expertise here, but I-"

Your mouth crashed against his, silencing him with your answer. In an instant, his hands flew up to cup your face, cradling you gently, carefully, yet you still felt his strength wrapping itself around you like a blanket.

"Sweetheart," Joel gasped, pulling away from your kiss but still pressing his forehead against yours, unwilling to let you go. "I don't think I can survive losin' someone again," he told you selfishly, voice trembling as your fingers fanned across his cheek. Fresh tears stung your eyes as your lips found the underside of his jaw and he sighed, dropping his arms to wrap around you tightly.

You weren't sure exactly what it was, but something shifted. Maybe it had been enough to hear from Sarah directly that she was okay with you and her dad being together. Maybe it was the note you found in Daniel's desk. Maybe it was the beautiful reminder that so many people cared enough about you to drop what they were doing to fight for you to stay in their lives. Whatever it was, it had you feeling at finally peace after losing Daniel. The heaviness in your chest was replaced with warmth and hope. It made you believe it was okay to move on and let go.

Your hand that was pressed against his cheek fell to his chest and slowly trailed down his stomach until you felt the cool metal of his belt buckle against your fingertips. Beneath your lips, you felt his neck muscles tense and his pulse skyrocket.

"Wh-what're you doin'?" Joel murmured. His throat bobbed when your fingers hooked around the buckle, pinky slowly sliding the leather from the clasp.

"Do you want me to stop?" you whispered. You opened your eyes to gaze up at him, lips hovering over a red mark you had left just above his collarbone. His skin tasted salty from his dried sweat after working hard all day and it had your mind going a little fuzzy.

Joel shook his head and closed his eyes. You took it as your invitation to continue leaving kisses down the column of his throat while your hand resumed its work on his belt.

"I didn't get a chance to clean up," he rasped when his belt opened loose around his hips. He felt his hands begin to tremble from the nerves and anticipation, so he took a deep breath.

"That's okay. I like you like this," you mumbled. You began to tug on his shirt, pulling the hem from his pants. You were working with urgency, fearful that your guilt might pop up out of nowhere and ruin the moment.

Joel chuckled, pushing his own insecurities aside when he felt your palms slide across his too-soft stomach.

"Why the hell would you like me filthy from a job site all day?" he found himself asking, more so to just calm his nerves a bit as you continued to blindly explore his upper half underneath his shirt.

You nipped playfully at his skin before you said, "Because it's a reminder of how hard you work. And how much you deserve to be taken care of," you explained, pushing him so he began to walk backwards out of your kitchen.

Joel's breath caught in his throat. Unknowingly, you had said the very words he longed to hear and it sent a rush of blood between his legs. He hadn't been taken care of by anybody in so long that he almost forgot what it felt like to have someone else help carry the burden of his daily responsibilities. Someone else to lean on when he felt weak and someone else to turn to when he wanted to share in his happiness.

"You- you sure 'bout this?" he stammered when his heels knocked into the bottom step. You pulled away and grabbed his hand. With a firm nod, you began to lead him up the stairs, his heart hammering wildly in his chest.

On the way to your bedroom, he caught sight of himself in a mirror. His face was flushed, hair dusty and unkempt. His shirt looked messier than usual after you had been tugging on it and he cringed when he noticed the hole at the collar he must have missed earlier that morning when he was getting ready. But even with all that, he still felt giddy. He had a smile stretched so wide it practically hurt his cheeks. And although he looked a mess, his pants half undone with his cock already straining against the denim, he didn't feel foolish or out of place. He felt like a teenager sneaking up to a girl's room while her parents slept. He felt excited and happy and hopeful not only for what was waiting for him in your bedroom, but for what the future held. And just like that, any remaining reservations about his age or physique disappeared when he crossed the threshold into your bedroom for the first time.

His eyes bounced eagerly around the room in the few moments he had before you tugged him down to your level, pressing your mouth feverishly against his while you worked to undo your own pants. The first thing he had noticed was your room was very you. Girly colors and light furniture decorated every square inch. The paintings on the walls were of flowers and some inspirational quote he didn't have time to read. Your bed had a canopy. Sheer white curtains were tied to your headboard and it made him smile when he thought of you waking up every morning in such a beautiful room.

He would find out later you had completely redecorated after Daniel passed away. Top to bottom, new paint and furniture. It made sense. You didn't want to be haunted by your past, turn to look at something he built or picked out. Didn't want to think about the intimate moments you had with him and never would again every time you went to sleep.

Joel didn't have much to even consider any of that in the moment because you had fallen back onto your bed, jeans abandoned on the floor while sweetly reaching out for him to join you.

"Christ," he muttered, unable to stop his eyes from flickering down your body and over your bare legs before pausing on the lacy panties hugging your hips.

Ten years. It had been ten fucking years since he had sex. And you were so goddamn beautiful and perfect, spread out for him with your chest heaving and lust filling your eyes as you waited for him to snap out of it and come join you.

His gaze met yours and something unspoken passed between you. You both had your respective baggage and you each knew it, yet you trusted one another with the most sensitive pieces of your souls. And that had to mean something. That had to mean what you had was special.

He bent forward, fists pressing into the mattress on either side of you, and began to pepper kisses up your legs. He could hear your breath grow heavy the closer he got to the apex of your thighs and it made him smile to hear someone so perfect as you become so affected by his touch. He had hardly done anything and already you were wiggling and offering him soft little moans when you felt his exhale fan over your clothed sex.

There was no way he was going to last. Ten years. He wasn't even sure he still remembered his old moves. Even if he did, he wanted you so badly he probably wouldn't have enough time before he came.

But there was one thing he did remember how to do, and if his memory served him well, he was pretty damn good at it.

"Can I take these off, honey?" he asked with his fingers looped around the sides of your panties. His voice came out deeper than he expected, making a shiver shoot down your spine.

"Mhmm," was all you could manage, then you squeezed your legs together and lifted your hips, giving him what he needed to gently pull your underwear down your legs then tossed them onto the floor.

He inhaled sharply when your legs fell open, revealing the wetness that had already collected, all slick and shiny and just for him.

"Goddamn, you're perfect," he said breathlessly. His hands spread wide over your soft thighs, moving slowly to curve around and hold you open. When his knees hit the carpeted floor and he settled his shoulders between your legs, he heard your breath quicken. His cock twitched, still stuck in the restricting confines of his jeans, when he saw a fresh drip of arousal roll through your slit, and he couldn't hold back. He lunged forward, tongue curling to catch it with a groan, not even registering the surprised noise you made. His eyes fluttered closed as he went back for more, lips suctioning around your folds and tongue diving inside for another taste.

"O-oh my god, Joel," you moaned, fingers clawing uselessly at the sheets. His chest swelled with pride, your broken voice only serving to encourage him further.

Your mind went blissfully blank as he expertly dragged his tongue up and down, collecting every drop of your arousal and swallowing it eagerly. His jaw worked steadily, widening his mouth with each messy kiss against your cunt. Every flick of his tongue was deliberate, every suck of his lips exquisite. He had you trembling under his grasp in a matter of minutes, completely forgetting that it had been a long time since you had last been touched, as well.

When your hands grabbed roughly at his hair, he grunted but never faltered. The slight pain prickling his scalp from the sharp tugs on his greying curls kept him focused and in the moment. It made him pay attention to every sound and thrust of your hips, memorizing what made you come undone. But when his tongue was flooded with another wave of arousal, all thick and sweet and musky, it had his head swimming and his own hips bucking pathetically against the side of your bed.

He forgot how much he fucking loved this. How enjoyable it was to have a gorgeous woman become a writhing mess from his mouth. To hear his name like a song inbetween heavy gasps of air. To run his tongue over the softest and warmest place imaginable. To hear the high pitched whines when he finally scraped his teeth over that swollen bud he always saved for last.

"Oh, fuck!" you cried out when his lips wrapped around your clit. "Fuck! Joel- ohmygod - Joel... please d-don't stop, please..." you begged, his cock swelling painfully in his jeans at the sound. He groaned loudly in response, refusing to remove his mouth even for a second. You tasted too good and sounded even better, he just couldn't get enough.

You were chanting curses mixed with his name, hips rocking against his face in rhythm with every swirl of his tongue around your clit. Under his fingers, your thighs tensed and he smiled to himself before he scraped his teeth gently over your bundle of nerves once again.

His timing was perfect. You shouted his name, voice raspy and broken. Your legs clamped around his head when you came with one more wave of slick coating his tongue. He lapped at your center like an animal, groaning and licking and sucking until you couldn't handle it any more. Your fingers, still tangled in his hair, pulled him off you with a gasp, too sensitive to allow him to continue.

"You got a dirty mouth, baby," he teased with a wet, crooked grin. You laughed, face and neck covered in a thin layer of sweat.

"That's rich, considering what you just did with your mouth."

Joel chuckled as he finished undoing his jeans. He let them rest on the floor next to yours, no longer caring how dirty his clothes were, but he found himself hesitating for just a moment when his fingers found the hem of his shirt. You might have noticed, he couldn't be sure, because you sat up on your knees, inching forward til you were at the edge of the bed. Your hands replaced his and you slowly raised his shirt over his head, eyes instantly falling to take him in.

Running and eating better had made his middle a little less soft, but he still had twenty years on you and his body simply wasn't what it used to be. He worried for weeks what you would think of him but as it turned out, you didn't even give him a chance to wonder when you finally laid eyes on him.

"So handsome," you murmured, running your palms over his broad shoulders and down his pecs. That insecure part of himself normally wouldn't have believed you, but when he saw the heady look in your eye, all doubt was erased from his mind.

"Your turn," he said, fingers plucking at your tshirt. He wanted to get the attention off him but he also desperately wanted to see the rest of you.

You lifted your arms above your head so he could peel your shirt off, tossing it somewhere behind him. He might have been rusty, but he certainly remembered how to remove a bra, doing it with lightning fast speed that had you giggling until his mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, melting your laugh into a moan.

Joel flattened his tongue over the hardening bud, his mouth warm against the soft skin of your breast. Your breath stuttered and your fingers flew up to grab onto his shoulders when the tip of his tongue flicked against your nipple before biting and sucking at your soft flesh.

"Perfect," he groaned before releasing your breast just to give the same attention to the other. Your head tipped back, a wrecked moan shuddering through you under his attentive care. "You're so perfect, baby," he mumbled, pressing a wet kiss between your breasts, right over your heart.

Your cheeks flared with heat at his compliment but you took it in stride. Swallowing tightly, you leaned back out of his hold, crawling backwards up the bed and grinning when Joel followed like a moth to a flame.

Hovering over you, his eyes danced over your now bare body with a look of awe. His obvious appreciation and adoration made you feel like a goddess, which was fitting considering he had just been on his knees for you.

"I'm the luckiest man in the world, y'know that?" he whispered while one rough hand brushed lovingly over your stomach and down your hip. You ignored his question, instead focusing on pushing down the band of his boxers, the final barrier between you both. When he kicked them off, his gaze still pinned to your body, your jaw dropped in surprise.

You had never been one to really care much about size when it came to men, your only concern was that they knew how to use it. But when you saw Joel's thick, heavy cock bobbing between you as he shifted his weight, all you could think about was how delicious that stretch would feel when he first entered you.

"Looks like I'm the lucky one," you joked. His eyes found yours again and you saw his cheeks flush with a bashful shake of his head. "It's true," you insisted when he settled onto his elbows. You tried to ignore his cock prodding at your stomach so you could tell him sincerely, "I think we're both lucky."

He smiled wide at that, his eyes squinting and causing the creases next to them to deepen. You smiled back, tracing one of the wrinkles with your fingertip before pushing his hair back behind his ear. Then you curled your hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down the rest of the way so you could press your mouth against his.

His tongue dipped slowly into your mouth, giving you the faint taste of yourself while he lifted his hips ever so slightly to blindly line himself up with your entrance. With the tip of his cock pressed against your opening, he mumbled are you ready? into your lips, and you nodded.

Joel tried to kiss you again at the same time he pushed inside you, but your head immediately tipped back with a sharp gasp, so instead he placed sweet kisses against your throat while slowly feeding you his cock, inch by inch, until finally bottoming out with a rough groan.

"Oh, fuck," he rasped, hot breath fanning across your even hotter skin. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to move. "Y'feel so good. Shit - so fuckin'..."

He couldn't even finish his thought. The way you fit around him so perfectly had him spiraling. You were so tight, so velvety soft and warm that he was fearful if he moved, he would come embarrassingly fast. Fortunately, it seemed you needed some time to adjust, as well. Your breath was shallow and fast, fingers digging harshly into his skin as you desperately tried to ground yourself.

"God, Joel..." you finally moaned, the sound causing goosebumps to flash across his arms. "You're so... fucking big," you added breathlessly. Joel felt his cock twitch and you gasped.

"Can't talk like that, baby."

"I can't help it," you whined, wiggling underneath him as your body slowly became used to his girth. "You feel so good, I feel so full-"

Joel cut you off, crashing his mouth hungrily against yours. You made a little surprised noise in the back of your throat then moaned into his mouth when his hips drew back slowly. You almost complained, almost begged him for more but then he sunk back inside you, stretching your walls and bringing tears to your eyes. He made it a few minutes, slowly rolling his hips, cock splitting you open while searching for that spot he knew would make you scream, but another sign of his age cropped up at the worst time, making him wince and stall mid thrust.

"What's wrong?" you panted, immediately sensing his discomfort.

Joel grunted and let his forehead fall to rest on your shoulder. "My goddamn back-"

"Lay down," you commanded, pushing him by the shoulders. He frowned and leaned up to look at you.

"I'll do all the work," you told him sweetly, pecking at his lips before giving him another push, but he didn't budge.

"Sweetheart-"

"I said I was going to take care of you, didn't I?" you challenged with a quirked eyebrow. "And so far, you're the one taking care of me."

He smirked and rolled his eyes but did as you asked, pulling out of you and earning a huff from you both.

Joel didn't love the idea of not being able to give you what you needed. He didn't want you to work for anything. He wanted to take care of you as much as you wanted to take care of him. But when you straddled his lap and positioned yourself to sink down on his cock, the sight alone made him forget all about the somewhat humiliating disturbance because you looked so goddamn gorgeous fucking yourself on top of him.

"Oh, shit, honey, look at you," he sighed. You whimpered, fingers digging into his chest for leverage as you bounced up and down on his lap. His hands found your waist, helping you move and steady yourself as you chased your high. "Yeah, that's it. Take what you want. Take it," he said through clenched teeth. Your breasts bounced and swayed, taunting him just out reach, but the visual made him pulse inside you, already dangerously close to his climax.

"Fuck, you're so deep," you moaned. Joel's eyes slid shut, trying his best to stave off his orgasm. He racked his brain to remember what made you fall apart for him before, but he could hardly think straight. The tension was pulling tight in his stomach each time to dropped yourself down on his cock. His skin tingled hearing every breathy moan tumble from your lips, all because of him.

And it was all too much.

"Touch yourself," he grunted, fingers digging harder into your waist. "C'mon, baby, touch yourself f'me. Can't -" He groaned when you started to roll your hips, your soaked cunt gripping him beautifully. "Can't last much longer," he finally was able to say.

You did as you were told, two fingers pressing desperately against your clit as you continued to ride him. Your face was slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head once you found a rhythm you liked. You looked absolutely breathtaking like that, spread out and full of him with your face contorted in pleasure. He had never seen you like that before. It was filthy and raw and desperate.

"Goddamnit," Joel growled, lifting his hips to match your pace. Each time he buried himself deep inside you, he let out a harsh grunt. The intensity and desperation was sending you both quickly over the edge. "I'm gonna come, darlin', 'm sorry," he murmured.

"Please," you begged, fingers working fast over your clit. You inhaled sharply and your movements stuttered. "Please come for me, Joel," you whispered with your eyes closed.

When he felt that familiar heat licking its way up his spine, he went to pull you off his lap, but your thighs clenched around him, keeping you in place.

"It- it's o-okay," you stammered. He had no time to ask you to elaborate. With a loud groan he finally let go, pumping you full of his spend. His orgasm was so intense, he swore his vision blacked out for a second. He blinked rapidly until you appeared before him again, just in time to watch you come on his cock with a strangled moan.

"That's it," he cooed, fighting for air like he had just run a fucking marathon. Your eyebrows pinched together and your mouth hung open as you ground down on his lap, riding out your high. When your cunt clenched around him, he felt one last burst of release paint your walls, the sheer force from the last several minutes making him lightheaded.

Your arms began to shake and a moment later, you collapsed onto his chest, nuzzling your face into his neck with a contented sigh. He could feel your heart racing with his while you held each other, gasping for air until you each calmed down and your breathing returned to normal.

"I got a, uh," you began, breaking the silence with your hoarse voice. You pointed weakly towards your stomach. "A- a thing. An implant."

"Oh," he whispered, "good. Okay."

His arms wrapped around your middle, pressing you against his sweaty chest. He buried his nose in your hair, breathing in deep while you planted lazy kisses against his collarbone. He was still inside you but he could feel himself beginning to finally soften, so he gently rolled you onto your side while simultaneously slipping out of your clutch with a hiss.

He couldn't help himself. He glanced down and spotted the pearly trail of his seed leaking from between your legs and it sparked something inside of him.

"I made a mess of you, sweetheart," he murmured, voice gravelly with desire as he continued to stare. You followed his gaze down and grinned.

"Guess we're both dirty now," you teased. He chuckled and rolled on top of you, lips latching onto your throat. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this needy. High school? Maybe in his very early twenties? All he knew was he wanted you in every way imaginable. He felt like a man on the verge of death in the middle of the desert who stumbled across an oasis.

"Joel," you moaned when his hand dropped to cup your breast and his cock, by some goddamn miracle, began to slowly stiffen once again.

"Hmm?"

"I - I need a break," you admitted sheepishly, fingers combing gently through his hair. "And maybe a shower."

He grinned and stopped running the pad of his thumb over your nipple so he could lean up on his elbows to look at you.

"Want some company with that shower?"

You giggled and nodded. "But nothing funny! This is a business shower, okay?"

"Business shower?" he repeated with his dark eyes sparkling. He was so happy he could burst.

"Yes. A business shower. Nothing ... sexy," you said with a wave of your hand. You gave his shoulder a shove and he rolled off you long enough for you to wiggle out from underneath him, heading in the direction of your bathroom. His eyes immediately locked on your naked body and he flung himself out of bed, back pain long forgotten.

"Ain't possible to not have a sexy shower if you're in there," he joked as he followed you. You glanced at him over your shoulder with a smirk.

"Smooth."

You only made it ten minutes into your business shower before you caved. But with your front pressed against the cool tile wall and Joel's cock sliding effortlessly back inside you, you were having trouble remembering why you ever cared in the first place.

"You look a lot happier than the last time I saw you," Ryan said when you sat down on the soft leather couch across from him. You smiled and placed your purse next to you.

"A lot's changed since then."

"Yeah? Let's hear it," he urged, clicking his pen and scribbling something at the top of his legal pad.

"Well, for starters I'm not moving."

He grinned. "That's fantastic news. What's changed?"

You felt your cheeks warm up when you said, "I worked things out with that guy I was seeing."

"Wonderful! And you mentioned his... daughter, I believe? Had an issue with her father dating?" Ryan questioned while writing some notes on the paper.

"She surprised me and stopped by my house. She apologized for what happened and insisted she wants her dad to be happy," you explained, still finding it difficult to believe just two weeks later. "But I am going to sell my house. I need to move somewhere new. Some place that's all mine. I keep seeing Daniel everywhere I turn and I think it's been making it difficult to move on."

Ryan raised his eyebrows and set down his pen. "Good for you. That shows incredible growth and promise to be able to recognize when something is holding you back. That decision couldn't have been easy, either. You should be proud of yourself," he said warmly, making you smile.

"It wasn't easy, you're right. But it's for the best. My... boyfriend, I guess?" you said, the word sounding strange on your tongue. "Sorry. I'm not used to that. He's in construction and knows some people. It's an old house. Daniel and I put a lot of work into it and it would break my heart if it fell into the wrong hands. Joel - sorry, Joel's my boyfriend," you said, shifting your weight on the couch. "He's going to ask around and see if anyone he trusts can find a buyer for the house."

"It sounds like Joel is a great guy."

You smiled and nodded excitedly. "We met at group, actually."

Ryan's face broke out into a huge grin and he clapped his hands together. "What a beautiful coincidence. Two people with the same wound meeting and working to heal one another. That's so powerful," he said before picking his pen back up.

"It's still early but... it feels right. It's a lot easier than I thought it would be," you admitted.

"Easy in what way?"

You pursed your lips and began to fiddle with your bracelet.

"Easy in that I didn't feel... guilty when we, you know..." you trailed off, praying Ryan didn't make you finish your sentence.

"When you were intimate together?" he offered, putting a pretty little bow on the filthy things you and Joel had been doing for the past couple weeks.

"Yes."

You paused and cleared your throat before forcing yourself to meet Ryan's eye.

"I thought I would compare them, or, like, I don't know," you rambled nervously, "maybe I wouldn't like it because it wasn't what I was used to or something."

"And you didn't?"

You shook your head, feeling the tip of your nose sting when tears began to crop up in your eyes.

"And I thought... I always thought it would feel like a betrayal. Like I was cheating on Daniel. But it didn't," you said, blinking away your tears.

"And it shouldn't," Ryan said gently, setting his pen back down to give you his full attention. "I didn't know Daniel but I'm sure he wouldn't want you to live the rest of your life alone and unhappy."

"No, he wouldn't," you agreed, then smiled to yourself when you added, "I think he would have really liked Joel."

"I'll bet he would, too," Ryan said. He flipped open another page on his legal pad and read something before asking, "And how are the legal issues going?"

Your face fell a little bit and you shrugged.

"My lawyer thinks he'll have things wrapped up soon but it just breaks my heart that it came to this. They were always so kind to me when Daniel was alive, I never expected them to be so... selfish and cruel."

"Not to make excuses for them, but people process trauma and grief in very different ways. Unfortunately, it can bring out the worst in people, but perhaps with time, you'll be able to mend that relationship if that was something you wished to do," Ryan said with a sympathetic smile.

You nodded silently and fiddled with the zipper on your purse. Ryan had gotten used to the way you processed information after only two sessions and knew you were ruminating, so he patiently gave you the time you needed to collect your thoughts.

"My parents were upset when I told them I wasn't moving back to Portland."

Ryan remained quiet, giving you the space you needed to speak.

"They think I'm crazy for 'shacking up' with a guy who is old enough to have gone to school with my dad," you explained. "Said I'm making a big mistake and I'm emotionally distraught."

Ryan's eyebrows pinched together. "Do you think you're emotionally distraught?"

"No," you replied. "I'm the best I've felt since Daniel passed away."

"And Joel? Is he in a good place for a relationship?"

"I think so," you sighed. "He lost his wife ten years ago. He's had more time to process his grief but this is the first relationship he's had since she passed, same as me."

"Well then, sounds to me like you are both doing just fine," he said warmly. "Parents always tend to think they know what's best for their children, no matter how old they are. And I'm sure their hearts are in the right place. But they don't see you every day, do they? They don't witness the progress and growth you've made. They certainly don't see how happy you are together. Perhaps with time, they will accept your decisions, but for now I think it's best to reinforce your boundaries and remind them of how well you are doing if the topic gets brought up again."

"Thanks. It's just tough to hear sometimes," you said solemnly. You pursed your lips together and tried not to dwell too much on your mother's negative reaction to your news, the wound still too fresh, but it ultimately only made you happier that you found Joel. He was such a strong and supportive presence in your life, despite the chaos, and you were always so grateful for him.

"Alright, let's switch gears," Ryan suggested when he sensed your sullen mood. "Where are you looking to move? Is the plan to move in with Joel?"

You laughed and shook your head. "That's a little too soon, I think," you said. "I'm looking to rent a small house. I found a few not too far from his neighborhood, though. We're going to check them out together this weekend."

"That's great," Ryan said as he scribbled down a few more notes. "And the job hunt? Last we spoke, you mentioned you had been looking for work but weren't getting much traction."

"Yeah, that hasn't been going great. But I've been toying with this idea, and I know it sounds crazy-"

Ryan laughed. "I'm sure it's not."

"Well... Joel and I were talking. He asked me what I really liked to do and what my dream job would be, and the first thing I thought of was cooking. I absolutely love cooking and baking."

"So you want to open a restaurant?" he guessed.

"No, not quite. Actually, I was thinking of a food truck."

You braced yourself for Ryan's strong opinion, expecting him to tell you it was a terrible idea and that the profits would be minimal, but instead he just smiled wide and sat back in his chair.

"I think that's a wonderful idea."

"Really?" you asked, eyes sparkling. He nodded.

"I think it suits you very well. And it sounds like fun. I say if you have the means and motivation, do it. Hell, I'll be your first customer."

You laughed, feeling your chest lighten a bit when you received his approval. You had been so used to your family or Daniel's judging every little decision you made that it came as a great relief to hear someone besides Joel be so supportive.

"Well, it's just a baby of an idea. Maybe once the legal stuff is settled and don't have to worry about that anymore, I'll look into it more seriously."

"That sounds like an excellent plan," Ryan said before standing up. You glanced at the clock, surprised your hour was already up, and began to collect your things. Admittedly when you started therapy, you weren't sure how much you would get out of it. But in the two short sessions you had with Ryan, you realized how nice it was to have a neutral third party shed some light on your problems without feeling judged.

"Same time next week?" you asked, and he nodded.

"Hoping you'll come back with some good news about a house."

"Me, too," you said with a smile. Ryan walked you back out to the lobby and wished you a good rest of the day. You gave him a quick wave before stepping back outside and took a deep, calming breath.

The seasons were beginning to change, you could smell it. The air wasn't as humid and the breeze was just a little sharper.

You welcomed it, hopeful that the shift into autumn would usher in a new and exciting chapter of your life.

A/N: apologies if I've used the term 'business shower' before. I feel like I have in other fics but I can't be sure.

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cashmoneyyysstuff · 3 months ago

Note

HI ILY!!! i was wondering if u could do a argument fic likeeeee katsuki and reader got into a argument and they are both DISTRAUGHT bc they’re so corny and in love and hate fighting but the argument was bad and they’re oh so sad whatever whatever !! and katsuki has to make it up to them EEE !! PLEASE I LIVE EAT SLEEP AND BREATHE UR FANFICS !! LOVE U CASHHH🤍

operation : trouble in paradise !

katsuki tries to get his boyfriend privileges back..

EEEE TYSM AND I ACTUALLY LOVE THIS ASK !! Its my guilty pleasure like both parties hating to argue bc they love each other so much im so sorry that’s adorable. and again ty SOOO much !!! hope you enjoy, ive actually gotten a similar ask, so that one ill try to have that come out soon !

FEM READER, katsuki is melodramatic, argument, fluff fluff despite argument, 3rd year bk squad boys !, kissing, making up yipeee, reader likes flowers,lemme know if i missed sum else !

“she fuckin’ hates me.”

for the past ten minutes he’d barged into kirishima’s room, bakugou has been moping. wallowing, even.

“no she doesn’t, man..” kirishima reassured. for the umpteenth time, he’s honestly lost count. he’d tried putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder earlier but said boy had shrugged him off angrily, grumbling out a dramatic “don’t touch me.” despite being flopped face down on his bed.

“i know her better, kirishima. yes she does.” the blonde insists, voice muffled by the redhead’s pillows. kirishima sighs, patting his friends leg before making his way to his office chair across from the bed, ignoring the muffled grumbles bakugou lets out.

“how bout you just..go apologize ?”

“i already told you i can’t. she—”

“yeah, she hates you. got it.” kirishima finishes his friends sentence, causing the blond to groan. “look dude, you’ll never know unless you try. you’ve been together for ages now.”

“a year.” katsuki corrects, he purposely forgets to mention he knows exactly how many months it has been too. kirishima nods excitedly, trying to get him out of his frankly sad state. “yeah ! so, this shouldn’t be anything man. arguments happen all the time, no matter how much you love each other.”

katsuki feels his ears burn at the word love on his friends lips, he’s told you he loved you of course. but it still felt weird to acknowledge it.

he turns just enough for his scowl to be visible to his friend, who sends him an encouraging smile.

“so what the fuck do i do then ?” kirishima grins wider, sharp teeth on display. “there we go, that’s more like ya, dude !” he exclaims. he quickly shuffles to grab a notepad strewn onto his messy desk (kirishima’s desk was so messy it made katsuki itch sometimes, a shiver almost passes through him whenever he sees the state it’s in)

kirishima drops onto the floor, placing the notepad onto his mattress and scribbling, with a pen katsuki has no idea where he fished out, a messy “operation: get your bf privileges back !!!!!!” bakugou fixes kirishima with a dead look, the other only tilts his head, still cheerful.

“what ?”

“what the fuck is this, kirishima.”

kirishima scoffs at the blonde’s dead tone, “listen man, you wanna win your girlfriend back or not ?!” bakugou squints at him, hard. but only let’s out a loud sigh. kirishima takes that as his answer and with a nod continues writing down notes.

katsuki groans to himself, looking down at his friend scribbling down his grand plan, and he better hope it works.

maybe you should call him..

no, you won’t. it was his fault you were like this anyway.

..but maybe you went a bit too far..?

ugh. you groan, rolling around in your bed. you’d tried to distract yourself by going through your tiktok feed but it seemed the world was against you or your fbi agent hated your guts. your feed was either overly cutesy couples content that made you miss your angry blond, or break up videos that made you miss him even more.

ugh. you shove your head even harder in your pillows.

you’re really trying to hold your ground, because you want katsuki to know he’d hurt your feelings, but now that you think about it you don’t even remember what you’d argued about. it was petty for sure, you’re about 80% sure it was a petty argument.

maybe you should—

you shake your head, steeling your nerves. so what if it was a dumb argument ?! that didn’t mean he could get away with everything!

“uuuugh,” you groan out loud, you miss your katsuki.

a knock at your door startles you. it must be mina, you’d texted her earlier that you were mad at your boyfriend and she’d told you that she “excepted all the deets of what his dumbass did this time as SOON as i get back !!!!” and you were waiting, maybe venting about it could make you feel better and less dramatic.

you open your door expecting to see your overly excited best friend. but instead—

flowers, almost whacking you in the face you might add, are shoved in your face before you can get a word out. you squeak in shock, they’re pretty though, your favorites. and you know only one person who knows what your favorite flowers are.

“wh-katsuki ?!”

and there he is, red faced and angry. scowl on his face and bouquet of pretty flowers in hand.

you can’t tear your eyes away from him, he can’t keep his eyes in one spot—flying from you occasionally to your door to the flowers and repeat. he blinks, you blink.

“here.” he grunts, waving the flowers towards you. “f’r you.” he glances at you.

“o-oh !” you exclaim suddenly, whisking the flowers towards yourself. the bouquet is big, it’s definitely a bit bigger than your head. katsuki searches your face to gauge your reaction“i—uhm! thank you..” you utter shyly, katsuki grunts. he shoves his hands in his pockets the moment you’ve gripped the bouquet, kicking at something you can’t see on the floor.

your heart skips a beat. tentatively, you lean against the door “didn’t take you for a flower guy..”

he scoffs, kicking the toe of his sneakers against the floor “‘m not.. but you like these, right ?”

trick question. he knows you do, you mentioned in passing these were your favorites, unless you suddenly decided you didn’t like these anymore. then he’s fucked. but he decides to continue despite the worry growing in his lower belly, the plan was already a go now.

“i—uhm, listen..” your boyfriend fumbles, he throws his head back and groans when his words won’t come out right. you give him a tiny smile, his eyes soften just a bit.

“i fucked up, okay ?” he admits, scratching at his nape “shouldn’t have said all that shit to you, or whatever..” you can tell he’s beyond embarrassed. he’d melt if he could get any redder, he keeps scratching and won’t look at you for more than a few seconds at a time and katsuki who’s always the loudest in the room can barely manage a mumble. you know he means it though, he never did anything he didn’t feel like doing. you wait for him to continue and he looks at you then.

“i don’t ever like arguing with you. ever.” he insists “so jus..forgive me, kay ?” he finishes quietly. your heart jumps and leaps and you can’t stand acting cold anymore. you walk a bit closer to him, the flowers block you from fully being close to him.

katsuki’s eyes are wide as you lean in to kiss right next to his lips, you laugh at his bewildered expression and his eyes soften when he snaps out of it. he rolls his eyes, you smile wider.

“i forgive you, i’m sorry too. i don’t like arguing with you either..” you admit, katsuki reaches for your hand, you feel the tips of his fingers brush against your skin, you give it to him and he grips it tight. then he leans in and presses a kiss to your lips, it’s a sweet little apology kiss that turns a bit too passionate after a while, and you pull him towards you and into your room away from prying eyes. katsuki kicks the door shut behind him and pulls you closer by your waist.

“guess i gotta—thank shitty hair..” he mumbles in between kisses, “an’ i owe him twenty bucks.”

you make a noise against his lips and pull away, raising a brow and holding his shoulders when he tries to lean in to kiss you again. “what’s that mean ?”

your boyfriend huffs “told shitty hair i’d give him twenty bucks if his shitty plan worked.”

“plan, what plan ?” you ask, katsuki squints at you, a grumbling noise comes from his throat, almost a whine.

“yer really gonna make me spell it out aren’t you..” he mutter bitterly, shoving his head in your neck. he continues, “shitty hair helped me come up with a plan to make you not mad at me anymore. i told him it wouldn’t work, he said it would, and we bet on it.”

you laugh in disbelief, katsuki chomps at your neck to silence you, squeezes his arms tighter around your stomach to make you wheeze, but you can’t stop laughing. “that’s so cute !”

“shaddup.” he growls in response. you muffle your giggles in his shoulder. katsuki grumbles some more and you run your hands up and down his back.

“well then,” you hum, pressing a kiss to his nape, his arms around you tighten. “i guess we’ll both have to thank kiri then.”

883 notes · View notes

lovebugism · 9 months ago

Note

hi!! could you write shy!reader where Eddie bumps into the new kid at school and she gets hurt? I’m a sucker when it comes to Eddie doting on people 🙈

i tried to be so normal about this request but then proceeded to write 2k words for it so... hope you like it lol :D — the hawkins high freak takes the new girl under his wing after they run into each other. literally. (shy!r, meet ugly-ish, hurt/comfort, 2.2k)

You clutch a paper schedule in a pair of anxious hands, squinting to see through the scribbles there. Three boys in bright green lettermans made a total mess of it — writing directions in chicken scratch and doodling a sloppy map of the school over your classes. They said they were helping you, but really they’ve just turned you all around.

Fallen leaves crunchbeneath your feet as you walk past the vacant football field. West of the bleachers and down the dirt trail, the stranger with a harsh jawline and quaffed blonde hair told you. His directions lead you directly to a half-decrepit building in the thick of the woods. A strange spot for a biology lab.

You’re trying to make sense of the scrawled notes on your syllabus — eyes narrowed, and chin tilted downward — when you run into something tall and firm. You don’t hit the warm body hard enough to fall, but stumble back in fear enough to slip on the dewy grass. Like a cartoon character and a banana peel, you land comically on your ass.

“Shit. Sorry,” the towering stranger grimaces. “Didn’t see you there.”

Your wrists start to sting, burdened with the weight of catching your fall. “It’s okay…” you tell him anyway. ‘Cause everything’s always okay. Even when it isn’t.

A ringed hand enters your vision then — lanky, pale, and tattooed. “Here. Let me help you up.”

“It’s okay,” you dismiss with a shake of your head. “I got it.”

Your jaw clenches tight as you rise on your feet. The slippery mud threatens to pull you down again. Your wrists throb with a dull and distant ache. You stand, despite all that, before the stranger you’d stumbled into the back of.

Eddie watches you wipe your dirt-covered palms together with a lopsided smile tugging at his mouth. He doesn’t have a clue who you are, but he’s getting a few ideas now. You’re a strong, stubborn, and shy little thing. Pretty, too.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he cautions with his palms spread awkwardly in front of him. He wants to make sure you’re alright, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Strong, stubborn, shy, and definitely skittish, he thinks to himself.

You shake your head again, finally glancing at the boy looming before you. His curls are dark and untamed, billowing in the early spring breeze. His deep chocolate eyes match the color of the frizzy strands — both equally as wild as the smile he looks at you with.

Your breath catches suddenly in your throat. You hadn’t expected to bump into him, of course, but you expected even less for him to be so pretty.

“I’m—”

“Don’t say okay,” he interjects before you can start. His plush lips quirk in a genuine smile a second later, to show he’s only joking.

You swallow hard, still hopelessly trying to rid the mud from your aching palms. “I’m… I’m— I’m fine.”

The boy scoffs a faint laugh. “Here. Let me see.”

He takes your wrists in his hands before you can protest. His fingers are long, gentle, and strangely warm as he brushes the mud off your scrapped skin — hardly flinching when it dirties his own.

He wipes his palms on his jeans after, never minding how it stains the denim. Then he reaches a leather-clad arm behind you and plucks a leaf gently from your hair. He flicks it to the ground again.

“There,” he grins. “Good as new.”

“Thanks…” you sigh, voice wavering from a reason you can’t name.

“Why haven’t I seen you around before?”

“‘Cause I’m… I’m new.”

“Explains why you’re all the way out here,” he jokes. Most people only come around this side of the football field to buy weed off him, and you don’t exactly seem like the type. His chocolate eyes narrow. “You lost?”

You shift on your feet, feeling suddenly very silly about the whole thing. You’ve got to be a special kind of stupid to take advice from a bunch of jocks and hardly bat an eye when they lead you in the exact opposite direction. You’re too trusting for your own good. It’s embarrassing.

“I was, uh— I was just trying to follow this map, but…” you wave the paper in your clammy hand. “I think it just made me more lost.”

Eddie reaches out a ringed hand and takes the schedule from you when you hand it over. His face scrunches softly together as he squints at the sloppy scribbles. You can’t tell if he’s confused or if he needs glasses. Maybe both.

He can hardly make sense of the directions. And the map was designed in a very obvious attempt to confuse you — the sweet, shy girl who’s never stepped foot here before. Something redhot simmers in his chest ‘cause he can’t imagine doing this to someone. Finding someone who obviously needs help and doing them over for a couple measly laughs.

It’s got Jason Carver and the Dick Brigade written all over it. Literally.

“Who gave this to you?” he asks anyway, just to be sure.

You blink up at him with a pair of doe eyes, gaze glimmering with innocence. “Um… A couple of basketball players, I think. They were wearing lettermans, so…”

“Fucking Carver,” the boy grumbles under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing…” he sighs. “Here. C’mon. Let’s go.”

“Where— Where are we…” you mutter in a mousy voice, trailing off when he stomps past you. You get a faint whiff of floral shampoo and woodsy cologne as he goes. Less inclined to stay alone in the unfamiliar forest, you decide to follow behind him. “O-Okay…”

You fight to keep up with his considerably longer strides as the stranger leads you back towards the school. His dark eyes flit over your schedule, squinting to see past the messy lettering covering the typeface.

“No point in making it to your third period,” he announces suddenly, swinging the heavy metal door open with a ringed hand. The rusted hinges squeak in protest when he holds it open for you with his foot. You slide in past him. He walks on ahead of you again, letting the thing slam shut behind him.

“Why?” you ask the back of him, voice wavering.

“‘Cause you’re already fifteen minutes late. And take it from me— Mr. Kaminsky hates when people are late,” Eddie tells you, flashing you a stern look over his shoulder. “Trust me. I learned that the hard way.”

Your brows pinch as your face swirls with a distant panic. You couldn’t conceal your worry if you tried. The gravity of it all hits you, then — the fact that you’re following a stranger you ran into (in the most literal sense of the phrase), who’d previously been half-hidden away in the forest behind the school.

It’s all a bit odd when you think about it. This. Him. You.

But this strange boy, dripping in silver and all black, is the very first person to show you an ounce of kindness all day. You don’t know why you’re following him so blindly — only that you don’t mind it as much as you should.

“Okay. So. Uh… Where are we— Where are we going, then?” you squeak behind him.

“Right here,” he answers, stopping short in the middle of the hallway.

Still a few paces back, you don’t hopelessly bump into the back of him like you did before. You watch with wide and curious eyes as he wraps a pale hand around a rusted door knob. The heavy wooden entrance squeals when he opens it.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” the boy jokes with a crooked grin. Everything about the pink expression glitters with mischief. He flicks on the light switch, letting the flourescent lights buzz on in protest. “Well, not abode— I don’t live here, but… You get it.”

The room smells overwhelmingly teenage boy. A mixture of cologne, sweet soda, and sweat. Most of the chairs have been stacked on top of each other and pushed to the edge of the room to make space for the long wooden table in the center. Binders, notebooks, and miscellaneous figurines sit scattered on a gameboard.

“Is that D&D?” you wonder quietly.

Eddie lights up at the question. “You play?” he asks as he saunters to the desk shoved in the very back corner of the room.

His excitement makes you regret your answer.

“No…” you waver, then quickly follow. “But I’ve— I’ve heard about it.”

“I’m president of the Hellfire club,” he tells you, nodding to the poster on the wall. The demon in the center of it isn’t nearly as intimidating when you can tell it’s handmade. “You should join.”

The boy eyes you expectantly as he rounds the metal desk. You shift your weight on your feet and wring your clammy hands together. He tilts his chin to his chest and peers at you from underneath his lashes. “Think about it?” he presses.

You nod once. “Sure.”

He ducks down then, out of view behind the bulky desk. You stand awkwardly in place while the boy rummages through the drawers. “Ah, here we go…” you hear him murmur after a few moments — followed by a dull thud when he bangs his head. “Shit!” he swears under his breath before rising to his feet again.

You hide your smile behind your scrapped palm as he walks back over to you. His cheeks glow faintly pink as he rubs the crown of his head with his hand — the one not clutching a first-aid kit. “Here. Shit down. Let me look at your hands,” he urges, still worried about you despite his throbbing skull.

You shake your head rapidly in response. You’re not used to being doted on like this — or at all, really — but especially not from a metalhead, wild-haired, pretty-faced stranger. “No. I’m— I’m okay.”

His chocolate eyes go wide and softly stern. They glimmer playfully down at you as his brows raise behind his fluffy bangs. “What we’d just talk about?” he teases.

You swallow down the rest of your protests. “Right…”

You sit in the chair adjacent to the one at the head of the table. The cheap plastic is a stark contrast to the heavy wooden throne the stranger descends upon — with a sort of ease that tells you he sits there often.

He digs into the opened first-aid kit and pulls out a bandaid for you. He fumbles with the packaging for a moment before ripping it open with his teeth.

“It’s okay not to be okay, you know?” he tells you, mostly muffled until he spits out the paper in his mouth. It lands on the floor at his feet, but he doesn’t seem inclined to pick it up. “Tell me I’m a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going. I know that’s what you’re thinking.”

Your face screws in offense. “I wasn’t—”

“I’m teasing,” he interjects softly, peering at you with a pair of button eyes. “Even though I am a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going.” He takes your palm between his warm and gently calloused ones. He smooths the large bandage over the raging scrape below your thumb with an impossibly delicate touch. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. Again.”

“It was my fault,” you murmur, gaze averted to the boy’s kind hands — at the six tiny bats tattoed in the junction of his thumb and forefinger. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s just a scrape, anyway, I can handle it.”

“Agree to disagree,” the boy says with a lopsided smile, brushing his thumb over the bandage to smooth it out. He gives your fingers a small squeeze before he parts from you. “There you good. Good as new.”

Your hands buzz with the longing to feel him again. You bring both of them to your lap, wrenching your fingers into a knot and hoping your face doesn’t look as hot as it feels. “Thank you…” you murmur, trailing off when you realize you don’t know the kind stranger’s name.

“Eddie,” he finishes for you.

“…Eddie.”

“You can stay in here with me if you want,” he offers with a nonchalant shrug — trying to be cool despite his thundering heart. “Third period’ll be over in, like, twenty minutes. I can walk you to your next class— you know, make sure all the freaks leave you alone.”

You purse your lips to the side of your mouth in attempts to hide the beam tugging there. It only halfway works. “That’d be great,” you tell him in a mousy voice. “Thank you…”

Eddie swallows hard and leans forward again. You can smell the nicotine on his breath and the musky cologne on his neck. His face hardens into a gently solemn look.

“And don’t… Don’t hang around Jason Carver and his goons anymore, okay?” he tells you, sounding like he’s half-pleading. “Those assholes that fucked with your schedule? They’re bad news.”

Feeling like he must know this better than anyone else, you nod firmly in response. “Okay,” you answer, though it comes out in a whisper when the word gets caught in your throat. Something about having Eddie to you is making your body go all funny. It’s weird.

“Stick with me, okay?” the boy smiles, pink and pretty and petaled, as he slouches back onto his throne again. “I’ll take care of you.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble

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bluehoodiewoozi · 4 months ago

Text

Fools in Love

Kim Mingyu x fem!Reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff

Words: 10.5k

Warnings: adult language. mentions of stalking (no one’s actually stalked). reader has a lot of conflicting feelings and it takes her three to five business days to figure everything out.

[UNI AU] When Jeonghan made you declare a stranger in the library your new boyfriend, you had a very different outcome in your mind.

Note: for some reason, my bestie @luvlino really liked this fic as a WIP and I promised to finish it for her eventually, so here we are. anyways, we've been referring to this fic as "himbo!gyu" all this time

You should’ve known it wouldn’t end well.

The first sign should have been the shiver up your spine when Jeonghan’s lips quirked into a smile that you knew far too well. The second sign should have definitely been your voice of reasons cursing and hatching ridiculously elaborate escape plans.

He leaned forward against the table between you two, maintaining eye contact. “So what do you say?”

“Sorry,” you blinked and shook your head, “I wasn’t paying attention. What were you saying?”

Jeonghan clicked his tongue. “Of course you weren’t.”

“When is she ever?” Joshua half-joked, nose deep in an oddly specific magazine he’d picked up in a procrastination daze. He looked up briefly to give you a once over before humming to himself, “Honestly, it might be for the better.”

“As I was saying,” Jeonghan glared at Joshua before offering you a sickeningly sweet smile – and there was that shiver up your spine again –, “go up to pretty boy over there and tell him he’s your boyfriend now.”

“I don’t even like him,” you muttered, glancing at the boy as discreetly as you could. You almost bit your tongue at your hasty words because the slight furrow of his brow and his jawline had your heart screeching. You frowned, head whipping back to look at Jeonghan. “Wait, what’s in it for me?”

If his wide eyes were anything to go by, he was as clueless as you were. With a sheepish shrug, he offered, “I’ll buy you a candy bar? You like Snickers, right?”

You stared at him in wonder for a while but were soon interrupted by Joshua’s scandalised gasp. “Is it because Snickers is on sale at the convenience store this week?”

Jeonghan blinked slowly. “Why else?”

Your gaze drifted back to the mysterious student sitting across the library, now scribbling notes in his iPad between puzzled head-scratches. The part of you that wanted to say ‘fuck it’ and go through with the dare was growing by the second.

But before you could agree, the dad friend of the group finally decided to speak up. Seungcheol placed a hand on your shoulder and looked you right in the eyes. “You do know that you don’t have to agree to every bet Jeonghan gives you, right? Please tell me that you know that.”

Seeing the worry in his eyes, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you were starting to develop a gambling problem with the help of Yoon Jeonghan. But what’s one more bet anyway?

“One Snickers bar?” you repeated back and Jeonghan nodded. Your eyes narrowed. “Make it three and a can of cola.”

He had the audacity to gasp. “That’s robbery!”

“Not if you’re the one paying,” Joshua pointed out rather off-handedly, still more focused on his magazine. (You took a moment to identify the issue in his hands as ‘Practical Sheep, Goats and Alpacas’ and once again wondered how you became friends with this gem of a human.)

Jeonghan grumbled, slumping in his seat. “Fine. Three Snickers bars and a can of cola, but you have to go up to him and tell him he’s your boyfriend now and then walk away like nothing happened.”

“Bet.”

Beside you, Seungcheol sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I should’ve just joined the Italians for that group project back in the first year. Why did I choose you idiots instead of the Italians?”

“You love us.” Jeonghan winked. He then slumped in his seat, a soft pout on his lips. “By the way, speaking of the Italians, I found one of the girls crying last night.”

“Crying? Why?” you wondered. “Was she okay?”

“Apparently her boyfriend broke up with her, over text no less,” Jeonghan sighed, filled with compassion as always. “She looked really heartbroken. I had to comfort her for hours.”

Joshua frowned. “So that’s where you were.”

“Did you find out who the jerk was?” Seungcheol asked. “You should’ve at least gone and given him a good slap upside the head.”

“Kim Mingyu. That’s the jerk’s name.”

Seungcheol grimaced. “That guy deserves even worse. I swear there seems to be another heartbreak with his name written all over it every three days.”

“Well, anyways!” Jeonghan cheered up again, clapping his hands together excitedly. “You get to be the heartbreaker today, oh my dear (Y/n).”

“When are you going up to him then?” Joshua wondered, setting his magazine aside as curiosity took over. For someone claiming to be well-mannered, he sure loved any implications of impending drama. “I’m not sure how long he’ll stay cooped up in here.”

You rolled your eyes and got up, grabbing your bag and phone. “I’m going now and leaving you guys behind.”

“Oh, right!” Seungcheol smiled. “You said you’re going plant shopping, right?”

“Plant shopping?!” screeched Jeonghan, clearly caught unaware. “Don’t you already have, like, three plants?”

“I don’t have a neon pothos yet,” you reasoned timidly. Joshua nodded in approval as Seungcheol watched you with a fond smile, much resembling a proud father.

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow before turning to Seungcheol. “And you’re telling me that I am a bad influence on her?”

“I’m going!” you called out softly, slow steps leading you away from the four-seat table in the art section of the library. You watched warily as the boys argued between themselves. “Guys?”

“– and just the other day you told her to –” Seungcheol interrupted himself with a cough to offer you a bright smile, silently asking you what you needed.

“I’m leaving,” you whispered theatrically loudly and nodded towards the mysterious stranger in front of whom you were about to make a fool out of yourself.

As always, Jeonghan was the first to catch on. He offered a wink. “Good luck, baby.”

You felt your lunch crawl up your throat at the nickname and the suddenly wide eyes of Joshua told you he felt the same way. You shook it off and headed towards the exit.

On the way out of the building, you took a deep breath and stopped in front of your victim’s desk. Feeling like a middle-schooler preparing to recite a poem by heart, you clasped your hands in front of your body and cleared your throat.

At the sudden interruption, the handsome man glanced up, eyes wide in surprise. He mirrored your smile, setting his pen aside as he waited for you to speak.

You didn’t need to look back to feel Jeonghan’s and Joshua’s curious stares on you. But you were nothing if not a good sport, so you forced your smile to brighten a little bit more before looking the man in his eyes and announcing, “As of right now, you are my boyfriend.”

If you hadn’t been the cause of it, the sudden drop of his jaw and the bulging of his eyes would have amused you beyond human comprehension. But unlike Jeonghan and Joshua, you did have an ounce of dignity and compassion, so you offered one last smile before scurrying out of the library.

As you set foot outside the library, you left behind a confused man and a half-hearted promise.

You spent the rest of the week praying and hoping and praying again that you wouldn’t run into the tall mysterious stranger who had become your friends’ newest inside joke. So far, you've been successful.

“Here,” Jeonghan slammed three Snickers bars down on your desk on Monday and sighed, “your payment.”

Your eyes naturally fell into a suspicious squint. “Where’s the cola?”

Jeonghan offered a tight-lipped smile and a pat on your shoulder. “Jihoon needs it more than you do. Think of the children, Y/n.”

You failed to see how Lee Jihoon who had just three days ago publicly threatened to choke Kwon Soonyoung with his freshly broken guitar string could be considered a child, but you assumed there was a good reason. So you decided to let it slide just this once (or at least until Joshua would feel bad for you and buy you the cola himself).

Until then, you would take what you could get.

Frankly, by this point, you were starting to forget about the library incident. It was just a bet like every other. This was no different from the time when Jeonghan dared you to guilt-trip Seungcheol into giving you his favourite hoodie.

Except when you caught the eye of a handsome stranger as he walked into the classroom, you knew that was about to change. His lips slowly curved into a smile and you just knew that this was the end of your life as you knew it.

Instinctively, you shuffled around to make yourself seem as small and insignificant as possible. The ceiling looked far more attractive than ever before while you hoped that maybe this man had terrible eyesight and he’d mistake you for part of the furniture. Or maybe he’d at least buy into the idea that it had been a different girl who harassed him at the library.

“I knew I recognized you from somewhere,” the man spoke a bit too smugly as he approached the desk you and Jeonghan had chosen for the lecture. His smile brightened even more. “I guess I’m your boyfriend now.”

But before you could protest or even comprehend what was happening, he winked and headed further back into the classroom. When you glanced over your shoulder, you found him sitting next to Jeon Wonwoo, a smile on his face. He offered you one last (and, in your opinion, excessive) wink before turning back to his seatmate.

You turned to glare at Jeonghan who looked just as baffled as you felt. Under your threatening stare, his silence slowly turned into nervous laughter. “Well… That was not the outcome I expected…”

“Oh, it wasn’t?” you couldn’t help but bite back before groaning and hiding your face in your hands. “Has he been in this class this whole time?”

“I guess he always sits towards the back,” Jeonghan concluded slowly, “so we wouldn’t have seen him but he would have seen us.”

You wished he’d come to that conclusion a few days earlier. “You owe me that cola and then some more, Yoon.”

Sitting across from you at the little campus cafe, Joshua shared a glance with Seungcheol. The latter shrugged so he decided he had to be the one to take action.

“So,” he started somewhat hesitantly, fully aware of what an angry you was capable of, “do you want to tell us what happened?”

“What do you mean?” you feigned ignorance all the while aggressively stirring your soup of the day. “Nothing interesting ever happens here.”

Thoroughly unconvinced, Seungcheol raised an eyebrow. “Sure.”

“I think something happened in class today,” Joshua elaborated slowly. It was only then that you remembered he had taken a fair share of psychology classes. “Do you want to talk about it? Was it Jeonghan again?”

As both a surprise and the expected outcome, you slammed your spoon on the table. “That jerk! Do you know what he did?”

Joshua’s almost failed attempt to swallow down a sarcastic comment could be seen by any bystander but you paid it no mind.

“Do you remember the guy from the library? You know, the one.”

“The tall guy?” Seungcheol wondered. You nodded. “I remember him.”

“Turns out he’s in our literature class!” You clapped your hands together in a fit of rage. “And now I have to spend the rest of the semester in the same room as him every Monday.”

Joshua blinked. “That doesn’t seem too bad.”

“He winked at me today. Twice. And he kept smiling at me too.”

“Oh.” Joshua tried to find a different word of comfort. He was out of words for the day. Perhaps his last psychology essay had really stolen half his personal dictionary. “That’s… rough, buddy.”

“Speaking of the devil,” Seungcheol whispered so faintly you barely heard. He glanced towards the door and surely enough, as if he’d heard your words in the wind, the man of the hour walked into the cafe.

You almost swooned at the way his shirt rode up a little as he stretched his arms up and at the smile and friendly greeting he offered the cashier. His voice soon filled the cafe with a sense of warmth, like he belonged right there.

“Busy day?” you heard him as the cashier as he made his way behind the counter. “Lots of customers today?”

The cashier chuckled. “Nothing more than usual. They’re your customers now though.”

You turned to Joshua and Seungcheol again, hiding your face behind your strategically placed menu. “He works here?!”

“Listen, I was not any wiser than you,” Joshua justified with wide and apologetic eyes. “Maybe he won’t recognize you.”

“I’m highly doubtful,” Seungcheol pointed out rather lazily, leaning his head against the cool glass of the window. “He’s recognized her once, what’s a few more times?”

You were deeply grateful for the silence that took over afterwards, happily ignoring the silent conversation of blinks and nudges your two friends were having. You lifted your hood up and stirred your soup a few more times before taking your first spoonful – the sooner you start, the sooner you finish, and the sooner you can leave this personal hell of yours to hide in your bedroom.

“Well, I think Cheol had a point in that,” Joshua suddenly whispered, nudging your leg under the table. For once, you had no intention to look up.

With a soft clink, a plate was placed on the table. You found a piece of the cake of the day in front of you and glanced up. The ‘boyfriend’ offered you a wide smile and nodded to your food. “Eat well. Cake’s on the house for you, sweetheart.”

Without another word, he shuffled back to the counter and resumed his task of re-organizing the cake display.

“...Did that just happen?” Seungcheol wondered, eyeing your cake in a way that made you wary with good reason. “And can I please have a bite?”

You blinked and pushed the plate towards your friend. His smile lit up the room as he reached for a spoon and began munching away. When you glanced towards the counter again, you found your ‘boyfriend’ watching you with a sweet smile, a puzzled look in his eyes and a puppy-like curious tilt to his head.

Promptly you made the decision to avoid this cafe at all costs.

The mysterious boy who hadn’t existed to you just a week ago suddenly seemed to be following you around like a shadow. He was everywhere you went. It almost felt like a bad dream.

He had already chewed you out of your favourite cafe and now he seemed determined to make it so there was nowhere you could go in peace.

You’d go to class, and 6 out of 10 times he was there too, already nose-deep in his notes at the back of the classroom. There was nowhere you could sit to hide from the glint of recognition in his eyes and the charmingly bright smile he directed your way each time.

You’d go to the grocery store and voila! He was there! Picking out watermelons like he knew exactly what he was doing (you were fairly sure he didn’t because, honestly, who even knows how to pick out watermelons?).

You’d go to the park across the street from the dorms and turn back on your heel because he was, once again, there, flexing his muscles as he warmed up for a run with his fratboy friends.

“I honestly think you’re being a little bit overdramatic,” Jeonghan told you softly as you attempted to hide behind a bookshelf at the library. You paid him no mind.

The mysterious ‘boyfriend’ was here as well. You had almost betrayed yourself and squeaked when you recognized him reading a book synopsis right next to you.

“Maybe he’s stalking me. Maybe that’s why he’s always exactly where I am,” you theorised while watching him like a hawk from your hiding spot. Jeonghan leaned his head out of the shadows to take a good look at the boy but you harshly pulled him back to hiding by his collar.

You glared at your friend before whispering, “You’ll get us caught like this, idiot!”

He raised an unimpressed brow. “Are you sure he’s the one stalking you and not the other way around?”

“I– That’s impossible! Who do you think I am?!” You so wished to curse him out but you still had some manners left. You scoffed. “Just shut up and let me suffer in peace.”

When you turned back to watch the mysterious guy, however, your soul almost left your body. He was right there – right in front of you, leaning against the bookshelf – smiling at you like it was the most natural thing.

“Hi,” he spoke. You wished his voice wasn’t so enjoyably husky.

You offered a tight-lipped smile, hand already reaching for Jeonghan’s sleeve to drag him out of the library and give him another earful for putting you in this situation. “Hi.”

It was hard to tell which was worse: the adorable smile the stranger offered you at your reply or the judgmental glare of Jeonghan which told you that your voice had betrayed you once again. You were doomed either way.

“I just realised we see each other so often but I don’t even know your name,” the stranger spoke and he seemed almost shy with the way he fiddled with the string of his black hoodie.

Before you could open your mouth to either tell him to leave or tell him a random name you came up with on the spot, Jeonghan jumped into the conversation a bit too enthusiastically, “I’m Jeonghan! This is my best friend, (Y/n). Please take good care of her for me. I have to go help my friend get his cat out of the oven.”

And just like that you had lost another friend. You’d be sure to tell Seungcheol about this to make his disappearance official. Traitors were not welcome in your group.

“Your name’s pretty,” the stranger told you softly, still fiddling and looking down at his sneakers. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he actually had a crush on you. “Pretty like you are.” He cleared his throat and looked at you once again, forcing a wide smile. “I’m Kim Mingyu.”

It took every ounce of muscle control and brain power you had left not to let your jaw drop.

“What?!” Seungcheol screeched before glaring at Jeonghan like he’d just been caught in the act of murdering a beloved family pet. “You little– You set her up with a frat boy!”

Jeonghan saw no problem with it. “I’m pretty sure you almost became a frat boy, Cheol.”

“That’s different!”

“And Joshua was literally in a frat until this year!”

Joshua did not appreciate his name being brought into this conversation. He rolled his eyes before offering you a look that told you that he blamed you for all of this. “You do realise I left the frat for a reason, right?”

“Yes, we know,” Jeonghan waved his protests away off-handedly, “you got caught making out with the president’s girl. Nothing to brag about.”

You could barely hold your laugh as Joshua’s jaw dropped, scandalised and exasperated. “Where did that rumour even come from?! Seriously! That is not what happened!”

“Eh, close enough.” Jeonghan shrugged. “Anyways, how was I supposed to know that guy was the Kim Mingyu? It’s not like he wears a name tag! None of you could recognize him either.”

A moment of realisation dawned on you. You let out a soft cry. “Dude, he sat with Jeon Wonwoo. Who else could he have been?”

“Wonwoo’s pretty okay though,” Joshua pointed out. “Not sure about Mingyu.”

“Didn’t Mingyu date like 30 girls just last semester? They say he’s sort of crazy about women or something. Falls in love too quickly.” Seungcheol sighed before glaring at Jeonghan. “You couldn’t have picked literally anyone else?”

“Who?” Jeonghan scoffed. “Joshua? You?”

“The fact that those are the only other options you saw is really concerning,” you mumbled while hiding your face in your hands.

Of course your luck had gotten you entangled in a situation with the university’s biggest womaniser. You were Screwed with a capital S.

“Just avoid him,” Seungcheol had drilled into your head that evening. “Avoid him and don’t look him in the eyes. Just walk in the opposite direction if you see him. Do not let him speak to you or you’ll fall into his trap.”

You leaned against the wall in front of the locked lecture hall door, lost in your thoughts. The laptop in your hands offered a nice grounding weight to remind you to not float too far away, but it didn’t seem to be enough.

Perhaps you should’ve found it amusing that your best friends were treating this guy as some sort of a mythical creature – a siren of some sort that could charm people into a relationship with a smile and two words. But you were more annoyed than anything.

How could this guy appear everywhere you went all the while offering you wide smiles! He seemed less harmful than a golden retriever puppy when he smiled and it annoyed you to no end. Perhaps you were more of a cat person…

“Hi!”

You almost jumped in your spot. Your lungs filled with air and your heart rate picked up immensely; it felt like you were coming back to life with the scare. With a wary tightening of your grip you made sure you hadn’t dropped your laptop.

Who in the hell–

“Damn it,” you cursed under your breath when you caught his eyes. By now you could recognize the chocolate-like shade of them anywhere. Remembering Seungcheol’s words, you quickly looked away and spoke no more.

Mingyu continued smiling at you – he always did – and spoke, “Did you sleep well last night? Have you had breakfast?”

A part of you felt bad for ignoring his caring questions. But feeling bad about this was better than getting scolded by Seungcheol… Mingyu could survive a one-sided conversation.

“Here,” he spoke again, his voice soon followed by plastic crinkling.

You felt the wrapper of a candy bar press against the back of your hand. It was impossible to ignore and so you opened your hand. A Snickers bar.

Looking up at him was your next mistake. You swear your heart malfunctioned when his smile widened a little. The twinkle in his eyes showed how proud he was of himself before his words could. “I bought it for you. I saw your friend give you three of those, like, weeks ago, so I figured…” He shrugged and looked away shyly. “I figured you might like it.”

Speaking was your second mistake that day. “I do. Thank you.”

The wide smile he offered in return would be engraved into your memory for weeks to come. “So you do speak!”

You realised your error then and there. Awkwardly clearing your throat, you looked up and down the hallway. “You thought I couldn’t?”

“Well, no,” Mingyu hummed. “It’s just that you’ve never spoken to me since that day at the library and I was getting worried.” He smiled again. “I like your voice. It suits you well.”

You nodded in acknowledgment, fingers grasping the candy bar and your laptop a bit tighter as you willed this interaction to end. Except a part of you – a stupid, dumb, hopelessly romantic part – didn’t want it to end yet. And so, you spoke again, “I didn’t realise you took this class too.”

“I had an annoying free slot in my timetable this semester, so I decided to sign up,” he told you easily, already moving to lean against the wall as well, positioning himself right next to you and just close enough for comfort. “It’s quite fun.”

“The professor’s great. Though the assignments–”

“Annoying, right?” he interjected with an annoyed groan and you couldn’t help but agree. “I mean, weekly reading diaries? 40 pages to read each week? Why?”

“The formatting is so dumb too,” you added. “It always takes me at least thirty minutes just to make sure it’s the correct format and reference style.”

Mingyu nodded enthusiastically. “I almost regret taking this class because of the stupid assignment formatting alone.”

You weren’t prepared for how your heart skipped a small beat at his next words.

“But seeing you here makes it a lot better.”

You decided to not tell your friends about the interaction. It was better this way. You could keep a secret from them. Easy-peasy.

It had already been an entire day and they had no idea. You could easily do this forever.

“You’re hiding something from us,” Seungcheol concluded just thirty seconds after you sat down across from him at the library. You gulped. “I don’t like this.”

Abandoning his magazine, Joshua raised an eyebrow, eyeing Seungcheol weirdly between curious glances at you. “How do you know?”

“I know my friends very well,” the oldest replied – his voice a pitch lower than usual to prove a point – and leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, “and I know my friends would never ever lie to me or hide something from me.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, an arm wrapping around your anxiously shaky shoulders. “Does she look like a liar to you, Cheol? She’s not the lying type. Oh.” He offered you a worried look. “Are you cold? You’re shaking. Do want me to–”

“I knew it!” Seungcheol slammed his hands onto the table loudly enough to gain the attention of the entire student body at the library at that moment. You could not have felt more ashamed, but he seemed unbothered.

He practically hissed at you. “What aren’t you telling us? What’s so bad that you can’t tell us about it?”

“Wait, you’re actually hiding something?” Joshua caught on, gasping. “Seriously?” He leaned forward immediately, chest pressed against wood as he practically lied on top of the desk, barely inches from your face. “What is it?”

“You can tell us, you know,” Jeonghan softly told you. It was in these rare moments that you remembered why Jeonghan was your best friend among these three. “We’re not gonna be mad.”

But oh how wrong he was.

“I–” You took a deep breath under their curious gazes. “I might have spoken to Mingyu yesterday.”

“Might have?” Joshua sighed softly and fell back into his chair in defeat. “Great. So in (Y/n) language that means you had a heart-to-heart in front of the anthropology lecture room.”

You were a little concerned that he could read you that well.

“It’s not that bad,” Jeonghan defended you, almost offended on your behalf. “Why would she–” His eyes narrowed at the candy wrapper still peeking out from your pocket. He sighed right after and almost broke his chair with how heavily he leaned back into it. “Did he give you food? You spoke to him in exchange for food?”

Seungcheol caught your eye and looked like he wanted to slam his head against the wall. “(Y/n), what did we talk about last time?”

“You told me to avoid him,” you whispered shamefully.

“Right. I did. Because men are wolves and Kim Mingyu is the worst of them all.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, eyes crinkling shut. “You’re gonna get your heart broken so bad, my dear.”

“He honestly doesn’t seem so bad though,” you pointed out after a pause of silence. “He’s pretty nice.”

“That is–” Joshua sighed deeply before letting out a sound akin to a sob. “That is exactly the problem. He’s too nice. He’s nice to all the girls and they all fall for him and he falls for them and then the perfect daydream is crushed and they break up and he moves onto the next girl that catches his eye. You’re going to get your heart broken like this.”

Seungcheol had now leaned his face onto the desk, forehead pressed against his textbook. “I’d honestly rather you dated Wonwoo. That guy at least doesn’t have commitment issues.”

“Who has commitment issues?” a familiar husky voice spoke from the side.

The four of you collectively jumped and stared at the source of the sound. Kim Mingyu, standing at the end of your four-seat desk with an awkward smile and a small pink bento box in hand.

“You– What are you doing here?” Jeonghan sputtered, hand reaching for yours protectively under the desk – a subconscious attempt to ground and comfort you.

Mingyu held up the container in his hand before sliding it over to you. He gave you an affectionate pat on the head before telling you, “I made you lunch. Figured you might need it with all the studying you have planned for today. I’m cheering for you! You’ll nail this assignment!”

Without another word – but not without one last shy yet charming sweet smile on his way out after he almost tripped over the carpet – he left you be. The food container remained in front of you.

Joshua stared at the box for a moment, mouth agape. “He brought you food?”

“How did he even know you’d be here?” Seungcheol wondered while scratching his head in thought. “Does he really stalk you?”

“No, but… I might have let it slip yesterday that I would be studying all day with you guys,” you mumbled and reached for the bento box somewhat sheepishly.

You barely managed to reach to open it before Seungcheol slid it away from you and opened it himself. The smell of warm homemade food filled the room.

Seungcheol glared at you when you tried to move to get your food back. He slid it further from your reach and picked up the chopsticks placed into the box. “I’m eating it. You don’t deserve to eat after what you’ve done.”

“He literally brought this for me though?” you grumbled but relented and leaned back into your seat.

You watched enviously as Seungcheol fed a bite to Joshua and the latter moaned in delight. “Oh my god, this is amazing. Wow. Is this homemade?”

“It sure looks like it,” Seungcheol sighed and offered you another glare before sliding the box closer to you again. “You’re so lucky I love you.”

You cheered quietly – you wouldn’t go hungry this time.

It seemed that Mingyu’s boldness dialled up by one notch every week.

Gone were the days when you’d go to class on Mondays, fearing (read: hoping) he’d meet your eyes and smile at you as he walked to the back of the class.

You came to the realisation as both you and Jeonghan stared at him on this Monday morning.

Softly gasping for air but still carrying an air of nonchalant pride that seemed to follow him everywhere, Kim Mingyu slumped into the otherwise free seat on your other side. He let out a groan and leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

“God, I hate the stairs,” he eventually sighed before straightening up again and offering you a small smile. “Hi.”

You looked at him, glanced back at where Wonwoo was seated – nose deep in his Macbook, a little too deep in the day’s readings –, and back at him. Jeonghan did the same. You shared a look. Then, you turned to Mingyu and asked, “Are you okay?”

Both he and Jeonghan seemed baffled by your question. But whereas Jeonghan’s confusion could be described as “that is not what we discussed, girl??”, Mingyu's seemed to be more joyous.

His smile brightened just a bit. “Yeah,” he breathed out, “I’m just scared of elevators.”

Not what you had asked for, but you decided you’d take it.

“You climbed up the stairs?” Jeonghan wondered, eyes widening by the second. “Five floors?”

“The elevator is terrifying, okay?” Mingyu whined and rested his head on your shoulder.

You barely noticed the gesture, instinctually leaning your head to rest on his. It was only Jeonghan’s disbelieving glare that seemed to snap you out of whatever Mingyu-induced daze you were in.

You startled back upright, surprising Mingyu who straightened up as well, head whipping around to find whatever had scared you so. When he found nothing even remotely threatening, he blinked in surprise. “What was that?”

Under Jeonghan’s amused stare, you cleared your throat and feigned nonchalance. “What was what?”

“That– You– I– You–” Mingyu stuttered almost frantically, unable to find the words. You decided he was rather cute after all.

No, dumbass. You had made a promise to Seungcheol – no boyfriends, especially ones named Kim Mingyu. You shook your head to remind yourself of that when you almost drowned into the browns of his confused eyes.

“I think the lack of oxygen is getting to you,” Jeonghan decided to save you this time. He leaned his head on his hand propped up on the desk. When you and your “boyfriend” looked at him weird, he shrugged. “He climbed up five floors. His poor brain’s probably on the verge of dying.”

While you thought it was ridiculous, the half-assed explanation seemed to fit Mingyu’s logic just fine.

“Well, there does tend to be less oxygen up high,” Mingyu agreed, eyes narrowing in thought and head nodding along. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

It didn’t make sense but you weren’t in any mood to explain the modern wonder of air conditioning and ventilation to this poor guy yet. Maybe on your fifth date.

Wait–

Before you could gather your thoughts, the professor cleared her throat and began the lecture. All eyes were on her – for the first two minutes anyway.

But you were still perplexed. Had you just really considered – even in a roundabout way – actually dating Kim Mingyu? You glanced to your left; he sat right there, pretty brown eyes fully focused on the lecturer, his fingers tapping away at the keyboard… The warm lights of the lecture hall seemed to make him glow.

Ethereal. Breathtaking. His jawline must’ve been sculpted by the gods themselves.

No wonder all the girls fell for him.

As you were about to shake that thought from your head, you felt Jeonghan lean closer to you. Your heart stopped as you felt his breath on your ear. He whispered, “Don’t let Seungcheol find out about your crush.”

Gritting your teeth, you considered your options:

a) You could pretend you didn’t hear him – he’d never let you live it down though.

b) You could just shrug it off and act like he was dumb for even suggesting you’d have a crush on a heartbreaker like Kim Mingyu – but he knew you better than that and you’d be caught in a lie.

c) “He won’t find out if you don’t tell him,” you whispered back, glaring at him over your back.

Jeonghan’s lips curved into an amused smirk, his brow quirking up. “Yeah? And how do you know I won’t tell him your little secret?”

“Because if you do, I’ll tell him it was you who’s been sneaking expensive drinks on our pub bills.”He paled immediately – option c: success.

As you walked to class on Thursday, you decided to stop acting like you disliked Mingyu.

Coming to terms with your crush had taken a few mental breakdowns and a few too many crying-emoji-filled messages to Jeonghan over the last two days. It was a small price to pay.

For the first time since that fateful day at the library, you approached him first. You headed straight towards the lecture room, beelined straight for him – leaned against the wall, reading something off his phone –, and offered him a friendly smile. “Hi.”

He looked up immediately – with such force that you worried his neck would snap – and mirrored your smile. You had to hold back from swooning; god, he really did look like a golden retriever puppy.

“Hi,” he replied and locked his phone, hiding it in his back pocket and reaching for your hand on instinct. Unfortunately, you hadn’t come to terms with your crush that much yet, and so you hid your hands behind your back. He seemed to take the hint just fine.

His smile never disappeared as he watched you, seeming to almost adore you just for standing in front of him. “Something feels different today,” he finally mentioned. “I like it.”

“Yeah?” You laughed.

“Yeah,” he nodded decisively, and you felt proud for doing something to brighten his day, only for your heart to skip a beat at his next words, “you should smile more often.”

“I– What?”

His grin widened. “You almost never smile at me. But you’re smiling today. I like that.”

If you hadn’t decided to just accept your new-found crush earlier, you sure would have now.

His ears burned red – as you felt yours must have been – and he cleared his throat while bashfully looking at the ground. He bounced in his spot for a moment before asking, “Did you eat yet?”

“Had a granola bar on the way here,” you confessed shamefully after a moment of thought. “In my defence, I almost missed my bus.”

“Same here,” he laughed, glancing up again. He hesitated only for a moment before suggesting, “Do you want to come to the cafe with me after the class?” When you didn’t immediately answer – too busy trying to figure out if this was real or you had developed a very bad case of hallucinations – he softly added, "I could get you cheesecake for free.”

And just like that you were ready to marry this man. Seungcheol, Joshua and Jeonghan could eat dirt – they were probably just jealous that you were getting someone’s attention and they were sad unlovable loners. Yeah, that was definitely it. No other reason why they’d try to prevent you from falling in love with this wonderful guy who was promising you free cheesecake.

“I’d love that,” you replied with a bright smile.

Exactly two hours later, you found yourself in a booth at the café you had previously sworn to boycott, sitting across from the very reason you had declared your boycott to begin with. Life is strange, you concluded, but found yourself unable to look away from him.

“Cheesecake for the lady,” Mingyu smiled proudly as he presented the plate to you. Seeing your thankful and excited smile, he winked, “I made sure to get you the biggest slice they had.”

You could’ve kissed him on the mouth for that comment alone.

“So,” he began as the two of you settled further into your seats, getting more comfortable, “what’s your major?”

You didn’t hesitate to answer his question before shooting back, “And you?”

“Graphic design,” he told you with a shrug. “It was either that or business.”

“Nice,” you nodded along though you were unable to find any further words. You silently cursed yourself for being so damn awkward with strangers. Did Mingyu even count as a stranger? Was he your friend? An acquaintance? Your boyfriend?

He seemed to sense your internal turmoil, reaching a hand over the table to hold yours. “Are you always this awkward with people?”

“Only at the beginning,” you confessed and felt his fingers tighten around yours in a comforting manner. “I promise I’m not usually this boring.”

“I mean,” he chuckled, “you seemed rather bold at the library that day. I thought that confidence carried over into other situations.”

“Only occasionally.”

But he didn’t seem to mind. “That’s okay. I like a challenge anyway.”

It was your turn to laugh. “Yeah? Then how come you’re not a challenge yourself?”

“What do you mean?” His ears burned a shameful red again.

“Any normal guy would’ve acted like nothing happened,” you told him. “But you started getting me snacks and making small talk in front of the lecture hall.”

The red of his ears got darker by the second. But he cleared his throat and shrugged almost bashfully. “Can you blame me? It’s not every day a pretty girl tells me to be her boyfriend.”

Your breath hitched. “You think I’m pretty?”

“The prettiest,” he confessed with a shy smile and your heart was completely spoken for.

You had one single duty to your friends: to always tell the truth. As much as it pained you, you had to tell them about Mingyu.

Because, for one, Seungcheol wouldn’t stop asking about him.

And, for two, because you had learnt there was no use lying to them because they each seemed to have a built-in lie detector.

But coming to terms with your inability to lie to your three friends came with horrible consequences.

And by consequences, you meant Seungcheol and Joshua grilling you about your relationship with Mingyu as if you had committed a crime most vile, complete with Jeonghan viewing the interrogation from the sofa with a bowl of popcorn.

“It wasn’t a date,” you tried to defend yourself. “We just went to the café after the lecture.”

“Yeah, the café,” Joshua emphasised as you stared at him dumbly, “the place where couples go on first dates.”

“It wasn’t a date,” you repeated yourself with a sigh. “It was just coffee and a slice of cake.”

Seungcheol paced around on the rug, already wearing holes into his dark socks. He ran a hand through his hair before pointing at Jeonghan. “You; you’re planning a first date with your crush. Where do you take them?”

Your head immediately snapped to glare at Jeonghan, daring him to say as much as a word – you knew exactly where this was going. He responded with a mischievous smile and you turned to scream into a cushion before he could even open his mouth.

Fortunately, Jeonghan was a nice friend and patiently waited for your screaming to stop before answering in a clear voice, “To the campus café to get coffee and a slice of their favourite cake.”

You threw the cushion right at his head. He only laughed.

Seungcheol, as if unaware of Jeonghan’s very clear plot against you, gestured widely before glaring at you. “Do you see my point?”

“It was not a date–” you began again, perhaps hoping that repeating the sentence enough times would make the guys magically believe you and forget the argument. But your speech was interrupted by the unmistakable ringtone off your phone.

You checked your pockets but it wasn’t there. Instead, to your horror, you found that Joshua had it right there, in the palm of his hand. He eyed it suspiciously before looking up to smirk at you. “Loverboy doesn’t seem to think so though.”

Your heart sank and soared at the same time.

Mingyu said it was a date? Fuck. Now you had lost your only argument.

On the other hand… Mingyu thought it was a date? Aw.

That latter thought seemed to betray you to Seungcheol. His glare hardened. “(Y/n)!”

“Okay, so it was a date!” you burst before sighing and curling into yourself on the armchair. “Is it a crime to date? Is it that bad that I like someone?”

Your question was met with a softening gaze. Whether it was your words or something else about your behaviour, the three seemed to suddenly become guilty and remorseful.

“No, it’s– You– I–” Seungcheol stuttered to find the words. His posture had suddenly sunk from big and intimidating to tiny and slumped. He exchanged worried glances with your other two friends before letting out a soft whine and stumbling over the carpet to hug you to his chest. “It’s not bad that you like someone. Of course you can date whoever you want.”

“Just not Mingyu?” you scoffed but made no move to leave his embrace. His stubborn personality and overprotective nature be damned, but he gave the best and warmest hugs you had ever experienced. You doubted anyone could give better hugs.

He sighed. “I– Don’t make me feel bad about this. God, I can’t do this–”

“We just don't want you to get hurt,” Joshua took over, reaching over to pat your head. “Mingyu kind of has a reputation.”

“I don't think he does it on purpose though,” you mumbled.

“I don’t either,” Joshua hummed, “but the fact is that he leaves a trail of broken hearts wherever he goes. He falls fast and hard but he loses interest just as quick. We don’t want you to be one of the broken girls he leaves behind.”

“Bet I can fix him,” you stubbornly joked and chuckled but you weren't fully convinced it was a joke anymore.

Joshua laughed. “I’m sure you can.”

“Can’t you guys just be a little more supportive?” you sighed, finally leaning out of Seungcheol’s embrace. “If he breaks my heart, so be it.”

“You don’t deserve your heart broken by a fratboy with commitment issues,” Joshua told you gently. “That’s the whole thing.”

You heard a scoff from over on the sofa. “She’s not in love with you, Shua.”

Joshua’s and Seungcheol’s heads snapped up immediately, one glaring at Jeonghan and the other at you.

“Me?!”

“LOVE?! YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH HIM???”

You vowed that if you went to jail this year, it would be for the death of Yoon Jeonghan. You hoped your glare over Seungcheol’s shoulder was enough to convey your intentions.

“Fine, you can go on a second date with Mingyu,” Seungcheol had told you, much like a father lecturing his rebellious teenage daughter, “but only if we come along.”

And so, you went on your second date to the fair with Kim Mingyu, accompanied by one menacing bodyguard and your two mostly normal friends. And what a date it was.

Holding onto him tight as he all but cried into your shoulder, you wondered how this poor coward had even gotten this far in life.

“It’s okay,” you told him, patting his head as you exited the haunted maze attraction. “See, we’re out already! You’re fine.”

The date had been so nice so far. He had paid for the tickets (all of them, which seemed to get him in Jeonghan’s good graces) and bought you a themed headband to wear. He had won you a bear plushie from a no-doubt rigged stand, only smiling proudly as the attendant glared and handed him the prize. The butterflies in your chest couldn’t have been more fluttery and excited than they had been this entire evening. The perfect date, 10/10, you understood why so many girls fell for the Kim Mingyu.

But then you had discovered your boyfriend’s fatal flaw: despite his imposing size and the visible definition of his muscles, he was an absolute coward.

Though he had put on a confident act while waiting in the queue, it took him no less than two minutes to start screaming in fear and using you as a shield from the scare actors.

As you tried your hardest to comfort him, wiping the tears of fear from his cheeks and rubbing gentle circles into his back, Jeonghan was cackling behind you like a maniac, finding great joy in your boyfriend’s distress. “Are you scared of clowns, Kim Mingyu? Clowns?”

“I’m scared of a lot of things, but clowns aren‘t one of them!” Mingyu bravely shouted at him, eyes blood-shot and throat sore from all the screaming and squealing he had done these past fifteen minutes, before his words dawned on him. “I meant–”

With a judgemental nose scrunch, Joshua nudged your side and scoffed out a short laugh before whispering, “You sure know how to pick them, huh?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you growled at him but paid him no more attention as Mingyu grabbed onto your arm with yet another screech of fear.

“Dude,” Seungcheol sighed deeply, defeated and tired of your fair adventure, “that was just a pigeon.”

“Birds are scary,” Mingyu retorted immediately.

“Not pigeons,” Jeonghan told him with an equally exhausted sigh. “They’re about as harmful as you are. No one ever, in the history of this planet got physically attacked by a pigeon.”

“Well, actually–” Joshua began but was promptly cut off by your elbow between his ribs.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” you asked Mingyu, squeezing his hand for comfort. “Maybe we could go eat? Or just walk around?”

He hesitated. “I was actually hoping we could– Nevermind. That’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s fun. What were you thinking?”

“... The ferris wheel?” He side-eyed your friends for the briefest moment before adding in a whisper, “Just the two of us?”

Without a moment to think about it (because god knows you’d be caught by Seungcheol), you tugged on his hand and began running towards the queue for the ferris wheel, glancing behind you to make sure they hadn’t followed you.

“What was that?” Mingyu giggled as you came to a stop.

“You said you wanted to come, just the two of us,” you told him with a shrug and an award-winning smile. “Keep a low profile and they won’t find us.”

“Why are they here with us anyway?” he wondered before quickly correcting himself, “Not that I think they’re bad or annoying or something– It’s just that–”

You laughed and glanced through the growing crowd at where your trio of friends were looking around nearly frantically, like a pack of guard dogs trying to figure out where the sound had come from. “They’re overprotective and think you’re bad news.”

“Me?” Lips pursing into a small pout, he seemed a little dejected at the thought. “Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you think I’m bad news? That I’m not good for you?”

The sadness in his beautiful brown eyes made you weak inside. You were ready to spill every truth and lie and everything in between just to make him happy again. But before you could, the staff member in charge of the wheel greeted you with a tired smile and asked for your tickets and, before you knew it, you were seated in the gondola.

You had read enough romance novels to know where this would lead.

Or so you thought, until the wheel was three metres off the ground and Mingyu was the palest you had ever seen him, eyes wide with fear as he looked at anything but the windows.

“You good?” you asked him carefully, reaching your hand across the gondola to squeeze his knee. He didn’t answer. And then it dawned on you – the very same realization from just twenty minutes ago – your boyfriend was the dictionary definition of a coward. “... Don’t tell me you’re afraid of heights.”

Shaking a little from the fear travelling through his veins, he took a sharp breath. “I won’t.”

“But are you?”

“Yes. Deathly.”

You wanted to laugh at the irony. “You were the one that suggested we come on the ferris wheel!”

“I didn’t think it would be this bad if you’re with me!” he practically whined, eyes squeezed shut, his hand searching for yours for comfort. “I just wanted this date to be romantic for you. What good date doesn’t end with a ferris wheel ride?!”

Why was your stupid cowardly boyfriend making your heart flutter again like this? Just a few simple words that he probably hadn’t even thought through and you were melting all over again.

“Is there anything I can do to make this easier for you?” you offered.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. All you’ve done today is comfort me and tell me it’s fine but, really, you must think I’m a coward and an idiot.”

Well, he wasn’t completely wrong. But it’s not like you were ever going to tell him.

“Actually, can you just tell me when we’re going down again?” he added soon after, voice cracking. He paused. “Or, well, actually don’t do that because you must already think I’m pathetic and I don’t want to ruin this for you and–”

You weren’t sure why or how, but you found yourself pressing your lips to his. His rambling cut off with a noise of surprise and before long, he leaned closer to you, still squeezing your hand with his, and nearly melted into the kiss.

When you pulled away, nose still brushing against his, he let out a shaky breath that sounded just a little bit like a laugh. “What was that for?”

“I– You–” you stuttered, unable to believe your own actions. You leaned further away from him, clearing your throat as the gondola came to a stop at the bottom of the wheel, the staff fumbling with the door to let you out. “We’re back on the ground.”

“We are?” he breathed out and finally opened his (admittedly hazy) eyes. “Oh. I guess we are.”

As you stepped out of the gondola and began on your way back towards the front gate, he linked your arms, playing with your fingers. “That wasn’t so bad.”

“You were almost crying,” you told him with a good-hearted laugh and a nudge. “Please do us both a favour and never take your date to a haunted maze or to the ferris wheel ever again.”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” he laughed, sheepish.

“There you two are!” Jeonghan’s voice sounded from behind you. You turned to offer him a smile. He replied with a sarcastic one of his own before yelling as loud as he could (which, admittedly, was not very loud at all), “Cheol! Shua! I found the fools in love!”

As your trio of friends slowly gathered, you were still focused on Mingyu. The fairy lights had no right to make him look so beautiful. You were certain you would dream of him tonight.

“The haunted maze aside,” you started, voice low as to not let your friends hear, “I enjoyed this date.”

He grinned brightly. “Me too. But I suppose everything’s just better with you.”

“Same time next week?” you half-joked. “I’ll do the planning this time though.”

“Only if you promise there won’t be any more haunted mazes,” he mumbled to cover up the fact that you had him wrapped around your fingers, wound so tight he could never think of letting go.

“It’s a date,” you laughed and kissed his cheek just as Seungcheol walked over to drag you away by your arm. “Hey!”

“It’s past your curfew,” he deadpanned while Jeonghan and Joshua snickered behind you.

You scoffed. “I’m an adult?!”

“You snuck away with your boyfriend!” he accused, looking almost actually offended by your actions. “What adult does that? And with a frat boy of all things?”

“I think they’re cute,” Joshua argued with a kind smile, having always been the most hopeless romantic of the bunch. “He’s like a golden retriever in love.”

“Golden retriever?" Seungcheol scoffed. “He towers over all of us. He’s a great dane if anything.”

As if to prove your friends’ point, the sound of rapid footsteps echoed from the pavement.

Always the most brave of the three, Jeonghan turned his head to take a look. He let out a disbelieving laugh. “(Y/n), your puppy’s coming with us.”

“My what?” you wondered, brows furrowing as you turned to see whatever it was he had noticed. Your heart fluttered at the sight of Mingyu running up to you with a bashful smile.

“I–” he gasped out, struggling to breathe.

Your friends and you were equally breathless, mostly from shock.

He took one more deep breath – all the while glaring at the starry sky as if to curse the gods for giving him such a poor lung capacity – and then turned to smile at you again, “What kind of a date would I be if I didn’t walk you to your front door?”

“One without a death wish,” you swore you heard Seungcheol mumble under his breath. But you weren’t too worried about him (he couldn’t hurt a fly even if he wanted to), especially when you had a whole Kim Mingyu running to you.

“You don’t have to–” you started.

But he shook his head and smiled a little prouder before offering his arm. “Here, I’ll keep you safe.”

“What are we? Just random street rats?” Jeonghan wondered while looking awfully amused. “You think one of you can protect her better than three of us?”

While Mingyu looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole, red ears and all, you came to his defence with a discerning stare directed at your three friends. You shrugged. “I certainly feel safer with him.”

With a pained groan and a hand to his chest as if to will his heart to stop hurting, Jeonghan grabbed Seungcheol by the arm. “C’mon, great dane, he’s clearly got it covered.”

Seungcheol blinked at him, baffled. “You’re not seriously thinking of– Jeonghan! We can’t just leave them!”

You gave your best friend a begging look. As much as you could never admit it to Seungcheol, you longed for more time with Mingyu. And if it was just the two of you? You were giddy at just the prospect of it.

“I’ll pay for your pizza,” Jeonghan offered begrudgingly, sending you one last warning glare before practically dragging Seungcheol away. Joshua – much to your joy – was happier to leave you with your new boyfriend, only giving you one last hug and a wave goodbye before following the others and joining in their banter.

You looked up to find Mingyu staring after them in utter surprise. “They actually left us alone? Willingly?”

“I guess so,” you feigned coyness. “So, you’re walking me home then?”

“Most happily,” he agreed before shrugging off his jacket and – to the detriment of your poor fluttering heart – draped it over your shoulders. “There, now you’ll be warm.”

“You didn’t have to–”

“I wanted to,” he interrupted with a sweet smile before offering you his arm again.

You swallowed the butterflies threatening to break out and linked your arm with his with a shy smile. And so, side by side, you walked to your home. The conversation was almost nonexistent as you simply enjoyed each other’s presence in the silence of the night.

“Can I ask something?” Mingyu suddenly broke the blissful quiet air.

You hummed in agreement.

He took a deep calming breath before blurting, “Why me?”

“... What?”

“Why me?” he repeated himself a little more certainly. “Why would you choose me as your boyfriend?

There was another moment of silence. How could one tell someone as loving and sweet as Mingyu that you were dating him only because of a stupid joke? A small bet that was never meant to go further than a sentence of a prank and five minutes of confusion? You feared you’d shatter his heart.

But still you had to come clean eventually.

It was funny really, you thought, that a week or two ago, you wouldn’t have hesitated to answer at all. You would’ve laughed it off and told him it was just a silly joke and to not take it so seriously. You would’ve texted the group chat telling Jeonghan he owed you another Snickers bar for the humiliation of having to explain yourself to a fratboy.

And today your heart hurt at the idea of breaking his.

Mirroring his earlier preparations, you took a deep breath to ease your nerves and calm your heart before answering, “It was Jeonghan who picked you.”

“For you to date?” Mingyu wondered, brows furrowing in confusion. “That’s a little odd, I suppose, but–”

“No, it was– It was a bet. At first.” You didn’t dare to look at him as you spoke. (And if you had, you would’ve seen his facade of confidence crack just a little.) “We were just at the library and Jeonghan bet me a coke and a Snickers bar to tell you… what I told you that day. I wasn’t– You– We weren’t ever supposed to meet again. Well, maybe as a passing glance in the hallway or something, but not like this. It wasn’t meant to be serious.”

“Oh.” You didn’t need to look at him to know how dejected he must have felt.

“But!” you rushed to mend his heart, “But then I got to know you and you made me lunch and you smiled at me all pretty and you spoke to me even when I was being weird and mean– Look,” you stopped mid-step and grabbed his wrist to stop him as well, forcing him to face you before you spoke with as much conviction as you could muster up, “this whole thing might have started because Jeonghan offered me candy, but I swear on everything that I hold dear that… that I really like you. I’ve come to really like you so much, Mingyu.

“I can’t imagine a day without you anymore. When you miss our lectures, I spend all day worrying something happened to you. When you don’t smile, I want to go and kick whoever made you sad or mad. I just really love you a lot – even if it wasn’t so at first. Okay?”

“Okay,” he whispered, nodding slowly, his eyes glimmering a little. “I mean… I always guessed you didn’t say those things because you actually felt something for me and–” He paused, eyes clearing, brows furrowing, ears tinting red. “Did you just say you love me?”

“I– You– What? No,” you laughed and felt nervous all of a sudden.

You couldn’t have!?

… Could you?

His dejected puppy-eyes became cheerful half-moons as he grinned widely. “You did! You love me!”

You weren’t sure you had enough proof to argue, so you kept quiet and prayed he wouldn’t see right through you. You hadn’t meant to let those words slip so early. You hadn’t meant to even feel this way. But you couldn’t lie and argue.

“Hey, if it makes you feel better,” Mingyu leaned closer to speak softly, “I’ve been thinking about how I love you too.” He let out a sheepish laugh. “Really, I was worried I’d be too forward and scare you away if I told you that already. I mean, it’s only our – what? – second date?”

“You really do fall hard and fast, huh?” you wondered out loud.

He scoffed. “Who told you that?”

“My friends.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll have you know that you’re the first I’ve felt this way about.

“Yeah?” You pursed your lips in thought. “If that’s true, then you should kiss me right now.”

Mingyu chuckled and shook his head. “I fear that might be a little too forward.”

“Really?” You quirked a brow. “And a love confession on the second date isn’t?”

“You’re the one who started it! Besides,” he linked your arms and led you to keep walking towards your home, “I’m a little scared of your friends and I’m pretty sure the one with big muscles will kick my ass if I don’t take you on at least two more dates before I kiss you.”

You weren’t entirely sure he was joking.

“Fine,” you sighed, defeated in the game of love. “But those two dates better be great. I’m speaking five-star restaurant, dinner and a concert by the seaside, watching The Titanic in the moonlight kind of romantic.”

“I’ve got it, don’t worry, baby,” he assured you and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek.

Baby. You had to physically hold back from smiling and blushing all giddy.

#svt scenarios #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu x reader #mingyu scenarios #mingyu

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ddejavvu · 3 months ago

Text

Doctor's Note - Sodapop Curtis x Reader

summary: you stand soda up, accidentally

contents/warnings: soda is somewhere around 18-19, mentions of his failed relationship w sandy, distrust/miscommunication, angst -> fluff. based on my very painful experience this morning with crippling back pain

send me requests for the outsiders!

Selfishly, sometimes you wonder what it would have been like to date Sodapop before he'd met Sandy. When he was more carefree, when he wasn't glancing at any man you talked to just a second too long. He's not possessive- and even if he is, he doesn't enforce it. But you know he's wary, and you know it's her fault.

Darrel had warned Soda to stay away from girls for a while, to give himself a break. And he had. Two long years later his hiatus was broken when you'd come into the DX fiending for a coke, and when you'd asked, 'Do you know where I could find a soda 'round here?' his eyes had glimmered with opportunity, and he'd pointed proudly to his nametag.

"Right here, ma'am. No caffeine in me but I could keep 'ya up all night if you want me to."

It had been so wildly crass, so insanely audacious that you'd burst out laughing, both from the absurdity of his name and the brashness of his comment. He'd apologized for it, too, twenty minutes into your conversation that lasted an hour.

"I didn't mean what I said earlier. I mean- I don't usually come on strong like that. Couldn't stop myself- prolly got it from my friend Two-Bit, he's always crackin' jokes like that. Hope you didn't think it was greasy."

"I think it was very greasy," You'd laughed, tilting your chin towards the tin of hair grease abandoned at the other end of the counter, "I thought that was the whole point."

"That's my buddy Steve's", Soda had told you, light dancing in his eyes as he readjusted his elbows on the counter to lean further towards you, "He does these real fancy swirls in his hair, and I've been able to do 'em a few times, but mainly I just slick mine back, and half the time I don't even grease it anyways because I'm just bummin' round the house so there's no need. My other friend-"

He was a natural-born talker, and you'd been just as caught up with talking yourself as you were with listening to him. It had taken the reappearance of his aforementioned coworker, Steve, for you to glance at the clock, and realize that you were 40 minutes past the time you should have been back at work from your lunch break.

You're surprised you hadn't scared Sodapop off with your swearing alone, but you'd managed to scribble your number onto his hand before you'd left. You hadn't even remembered to buy a drink, but he'd brought you one when he showed up for your first date.

Now, three weeks later, you're getting ready to show up to his house. This is a big thing: you're meeting his brothers. He's told you so much about them you feel like you know them, and he's also given you your fair share of warnings, too. Darry's too stern sometimes, and it might take a while for him to warm up to you. Ponyboy's an awkward teen, and on top of it, he'd trusted Sandy- they all had. You know you've gotta prove yourself better than her, and you're starting with some sweet perfume and a bundle of flowers for their dining table.

"Get your bum ass off the couch and vacuum," Soda's hands shove roughly at Ponyboy's thighs, "She's gonna be here in thirty minutes!"

"Jeez, Soda, she's not my girlfriend," Ponyboy grumbles, but he stands and heads for the closet where the vacuum lies all the same, "Don't understand why I have to be the one cleanin'."

"'Cause Darry's the one cookin'." Soda glares at him, "And I'm cleaning too. I've been cleaning for days."

"Bathroom looks good, little man." Darry voices his approval from the kitchen, "Thought I was gonna die of shock when I realized you'd scrubbed down the toilet."

Not much conversation is heard over Ponyboy's aggressive vacuuming, but Soda calls the cleaning at five minutes to your arrival time.

"Okay. Rules again?" He looks expectantly at his brothers, and Darry looks irritated that he's being grilled this time.

"No judging." Ponyboy grumbles, but he doesn't think it's fair, because Sandy had seemed so nice and sweet, and she'd run right out on Sodapop. So he feels like he has to judge, because maybe Soda's gonna get hurt again. He doesn't want that.

"No grilling." Darry continues, equally put-out by Soda's request. He wants what's best for his brother. Sodapop's two-year long relationship drought was refreshing, and he's seen the boy blossom into a wonderful man. Still, he can't help feeling some lingering resentment towards Sandy, and he knows it's not fair to attach it to you, but he doesn't know what else to do with it.

"And no arguing at the table." He glances between Darry and Pony both warily, "I mean it, this isn't the night to discuss grades or curfew or chores. Just- be nice to her. Treat her like a real guest."

"Alright, little buddy." Darry secedes, squeezing Soda's flannel-clad shoulder slightly, "Now, you gonna go wait by the door for her?"

"No! I'm not that desperate." Soda scoffs, but Darry notices the way he flops down into his eldest brother's armchair, the only seat in the house with a view of the front walkway. Ponyboy settles himself awkwardly on the couch, watching cartoons even though there's an anxious tension in his skinny shoulders.

You're set to arrive in two minutes, and Soda's practically vibrating out of his seat. There's no sign of the cute little sundress you said you'd wear today, but that's okay, because he thinks it's so considerate of you to show up punctually versus early. if you'd come fifteen minutes earlier you would have seen him near-tears over the spot of chocolate that wouldn't rub out of the wall behind the television. Ponyboy had pointed out that there's no way you would have seen it unless you'd been wedged between their tv and the wall, but Soda was not going to invite you into a messy home.

One minute goes by, and Soda's cuticles hurt from where his nails tear at them. He tries to stop himself- after all, you wouldn't want to hold his hand if his was bleeding. But his next nervous habit becomes fiddling with the hem of his shirt, which isn't nearly as satisfying for his fingers.

He waits for what he's sure is more than a minute, which means you're due to flounce up the stairs in seconds. But he doesn't see you, and he knows Pony's watching him crane his neck every three seconds to look for you. So he tones it down- after all, he's got a 10-minute grace period at the DX for his shifts. If he can clock in at 8:10 and still be 'on time', you can show up a few minutes late.

"Any sign of her?" Darry pokes his head out of the kitchen, seeing the front door still shut. Soda shakes his head- then he catches a glimpse of your hair color outside the window. Upon further inspection, it's a stray cat. Ponyboy snorts at him, and Soda sinks back into the recliner.

Okay, so you've used up your grace period. But Soda gets it- you probably sang one too many love songs about him in the shower, and now you're tripping over your own feet trying to run to his house. Or the bus was late, or you missed it entirely, and you'll show up before the food goes cold.

Fifteen minutes go by, and Darry hovers over the finished meal, wondering whether he should plate it or not.

Twenty minutes go by, and Darry considers removing one plate from the table.

Thirty minutes go by, and Darry turns off the stove.

An hour goes by, and Pony retreats to his room for some homework time. Darry's meticulously cleaning the kitchen, but Sodapop thinks it's more because he doesn't know what to say than because he thinks you'll judge them for a grease stain on the wall.

When Darry's scrubbed the kitchen raw nearly an hour later, he pads softly over to Soda where he still rests in his armchair.

"Soda, I- listen, I don't think she's comin' tonight."

"I told her today." Soda's got his fingernail pinched between his teeth, his leg having long-since stopped its nervous bouncing, "I- I know I told her tonight, and she said she'd be here, but I-"

Darry's hand squeezes his shoulder again, this time tighter, and something awfully familiar resurges in Soda's chest where it's laid dormant for two years.

"C'mon, little buddy." Darry urges him up out of the chair, "Let's turn in early tonight."

Soda's not doing his best work despite having gotten eleven hours of sleep the night prior. He's sluggish and mopey, and Steve sticks him on the register so that no one risks a foolish mistake to their car. Soda stares at a knot in the wood grain, chewing on the inside of his cheek, and doesn't look up even when the entrance bell dings.

"Soda-" He hears a voice, one that he'd been waiting since last evening to hear, one that exacerbates that sickly feeling in his chest. He hasn't been able to shake it, and your face had blended with Sandy's in his nightmares last night.

"Soda, I'm- I'm so sorry."

"Why didn't you show?" He barely has the courage to look up at you, but he does, because last time he'd groveled. He'd begged, pleaded, bargained with her to stay with him, and he wasn't going to do that this time. He was going to be the man Darry wanted him to be.

"I'm sorry." You repeat, clutching a paper in your hands, brows permanently furrowed, "It was an emergency. I was getting ready, and- and all of a sudden my back started hurtin'. Real bad, Soda, I- I had to lie down on the ground."

Soda watches, interest piqued, as you stagger towards the counter, clearly limping. Sickness is replaced with worry in his chest, and he watches as you brace yourself against the register.

"My folks didn't get home for hours. I was just laying there, I- I couldn't reach the phone, I couldn't move my legs, I was just stranded there." Your voice thickens at the memory, and you sniffle absentmindedly, "Soda, I would have called you, I just- I couldn't move. I swear. I tried, Soda, I swear I tried to get to the phone, but it was so painful. And then when my parents got home they had to carry me to the car 'n all, and the emergency room took forever, and- and we didn't get home until three in the morning, and I knew you'd be sleepin' so I didn't call, and I felt so bad because I knew you'd be waiting on me, and- and I'm so sorry, Sodapop."

All at once yours and Sandy's faces come undone in his mind, and hers is cast aside as he studies yours. There's tears, big shiny ones lining your eyes, and your chin trembles slightly. You're still clutching the paper, and when you realize he's glancing at it, you gasp.

"Oh! I- um, I got you a doctor's note. I didn't want you to think I was lyin'."

You push the page towards him on the counter, and he takes it with trembling hands.

'Patient Y/N Y/L/N admitted to emergency services at 8:49 PM Wednesday, 30th July. Diagnosed with severe lumbar muscle strain. This patient is placed off of work from 7/30/1968 through 8/05/1968.

Patient would like to add that she did not intend to stand up her date with one Sodapop Patrick Curtis on Wednesday, 30th July. Patient would like to reschedule for another night. Doctor prescribes a calm, laid-back dinner date until patient recovers.'

"Had one hell of a time trying to get him to put that in there." Your sheepish voice pipes up from where Soda's reading the last words on the page, "But I told him you were a nice boy and he said there's not many of those around here. I'm sorry, again. I'm so sorry."

Lumbar muscle strain rings a bell in Soda's head. It's something Darry's definitely mentioned before, the few times they've bullied him into seeking medical attention for all of his blue collar aches and pains. He's sure if you're hurting the way Darry does sometimes, that you weren't lying about not being able to move.

You're staring at him like you're worried he'll send you away, and the piece of paper in his hands is the only thing stopping him from doing just that. But he glances down at it again, and takes a deep breath.

"It's okay. I believe you. My brother Darry, he- he pulls muscles sometimes. Don't usually see him cry, but I do when that happens. Are you okay?'

You visibly relax at his words, but something in your back must have protested the movement, because your face pinches up again.

"Um- yeah. Mostly. It hurts when I move too much." You admit, "But I had to make it down here to see you. I'm so sorry. Were you- were you angry at me?"

He doesn't think so- he was offended, he was disappointed, but most of all, he's pretty sure he was beating up on himself more than he was beating up on you. It felt like it did the first time, and he was the common denominator in both.

"No." He answers honestly, "But- uh, I think Darry probably is."

You wince, and he doesn't blame you. But he holds the note a little tighter, "But I'll tell him what happened. Like I said, he knows what that feels like. Don't worry about it, honey. You- uh, did you want to still meet them?"

"Of course! Of course," You nod eagerly, bracing your weight against the counter, "Do you still... want me to meet them?"

"Of course." He echoes, finally breaking his stoicism with a grin, a shy one as he reaches for your hand over the counter, still clutching the note in his other hand, "Can't argue with the doctor's orders."

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