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minnieminshi · 4 months

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Pucking Chemistry

Summary: You never should’ve agreed to tutor the captain of the hockey team. Who shows up a full hour after the agreed meeting time? Choi Seungcheol, apparently as you’ve come to learn. And now you’re stuck tutoring him because for some reason, you're his last hope to pass chemistry so he’s eligible to play in an upcoming tournament.

Warnings: cursing because I can’t help myself lol, mentions of your father abandoning the family (it's minor and only mentioned like once)

Word Count: 9.9K (I was possessed lol)

Extra info: high school setting, Cheol uses the term "princess" a lot and I'm a sucker for calling people by their last name, mentions of Monsta X’s I.M (aka Changkyun) and Kard’s Somin (but she gets mentioned like once lol), your little brother’s name never gets mentioned but you do call him Frosty lol, and my knowledge of hockey is limited to watching Dr. Mike on yt talk about hockey injuries so there’s not a whole lot of hockey action in this fic lmao.

Author's Note: this fic made me realize my little brother is turning 13 this year and I can’t handle that because what do you mean he’s a teen now he literally turned one the other day and I think that shows in this fic lol. Also if I only count the days I actually sat down to write this fic it only took me 3 days lol, but I had 3 tests this week and had to be productive so that nerfed me. This is also the first fic I'm posting in this app so bare with me lol and in honor of Scoups and Jeonghan getting cleared to return to activities, I present the beginning of this series

Sporteen Masterlist

Sitting in the school’s library, all your chemistry notes laid out, you began to rethink agreeing to tutor the school’s hockey captain, Choi Seungcheol. With another glance to your phone, you sighed, ten minutes passed what the two of you agreed to meet at. If you didn’t like your chemistry teacher as much as you do, you would have never agreed to do this.

He’s a sweet guy, I’m sure he won’t give you any problems!

But it’s only ten minutes and sometimes things come up. Maybe he’d walk in after a few more minutes and then you two could finally start.

Except those ten minutes slowly morphed into thirty minutes, forty five minutes, and now suddenly it’s an hour and not a single word from Choi Seungcheol about where the hell he’s at.

And while having to wait an hour for someone to show up to something they needed sucked, that’s not what pissed you off. What pissed you off was the fact that after this tutoring session, you had a date with Changkyun, set up by your friend Somin, but thanks to the no show Choi Seungcheol, you’d have to rush home, get your little brother ready for the evening and get ready for your date. And while you could hypothetically get everything done in time, you would prefer it if you didn’t have to rush. Your little brother’s probably gonna complain about his quick dinner of chicken nuggets and macaroni after you promised him yesterday you’d make him what he called an “actual meal.” You reminded him that he was twelve and fully capable of cooking for himself and suddenly the quick meal was the best thing he’s ever eaten.

So he could survive a rushed meal, however getting ready for your date was a different story. Rushing to get ready in the morning for school was one thing. You could halfass an outfit and get your brother out the door in fifteen minutes flat if your mom was already at work, but you needed a little more time to actually look good enough for someone who wasn’t related to you or hasn’t seen you slumped over your desk with textbooks and notes sprawled all over the floor.

Now, because of Choi Seungcheol, you’d have to rush, something you wished wouldn’t happen.

“Sweet guy my ass,” you mutter under your breath as you begin shoving your things into your backpack. Just as you finished shoving the last textbook into your backpack, a deep voice caught you off guard before you rolled your eyes.

“Where’re you going princess, aren’t you gonna tutor me?”

Oh?

Letting out a low chuckle, you turn to face the captain who you wished you could smack that smirk off his face and crossing your arms over your chest, you leaned against the table. “Tutor you? I agreed to tutor you an hour ago, and since that’s passed, I’m heading home to go enjoy my evening.”

As you turned around to grab your backpack and go home, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You looked up to see him holding onto you, a hesitant look in his eyes. Your brows furrowed as you shook his hand off.

“Look, I’m sorry about being late, but something came up.” He muttered, his hand falling to his side as he shoved his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. You scoffed as you shouldered your bag. “Too busy to send a heads up?”

You look up to see a light blush dust his cheeks as he looks away from you, and if you weren’t so pissed at him, you’d find him kinda cute.

“I’m sorry.”

You sighed as you glance at the clock on the wall, and with a sigh, you turn to the hockey player. “Look, I have plans so I can give you 45 minutes.”

“Forty five minutes? That’s barely any time to learn anything,” he complained with a small pout on his lips as you rolled your eyes. “Take it or leave it Choi, you’re the one who was late.”

He let out a small huff before agreeing to the terms, pulling out a chair as you pulled out your phone, setting an alarm for exactly 45 minutes. Thankfully tutoring him wasn’t terrible, he actually seemed to listen to you and he even took notes while you explained the most recent lesson to him. Maybe if he was kind enough to send a message earlier you might actually feel bad about leaving, but alas that wasn’t the case.

With the default alarm ringing, you began packing up your things once again, this time, really just throwing everything with no regard as to how things landed in your bag. With a little speeding you should be able to make it home in about fifteen minutes which gives you about ten minutes to make your brother’s dinner and have about thirty minutes to get ready for your date. Perfect timing as long as you leave right now.

Just as you begin to walk away, pulling up your little brother’s contact to tell him you’re on your way, Seungcheol calls you out. “Are we still good for next week?” You freeze, slowly turning to look at him as your phone rings. “Next week? Listen Choi, I think it’s best if you find someone else to tutor you.”

Before he can say anything, you cut him off. “Listen, I have things to take care of after school and I can’t wait for over an hour, wondering if you’ll show up. I’ll tell Ms. Park to find someone else and we don’t have to worry about seeing each other again.” With that, you walk out the library, your little brother having finally picked up and making things easier for you as he grabbed all the food you told him to.

Looks like things will be going back to normal after today, no more having to worry about Choi Seungcheol.

Or so you thought.

What you didn’t expect to see when coming to pick up your little brother from his little hockey club practice is Choi Seungcheol out on the ice, with your little brother excitedly talking to him about who knows what.

You internally groan, why, just why did he have to be the one to coach your little brother’s team. And why did you have to say you’d never see him again, it’s like you were asking for the universe to play a cruel prank on you by making sure this would happen to you.

Weeks ago, when your little brother asked you if you could start taking him to a hockey club he joined every Saturday, you didn’t see any issue with it initially. As long as he had the proper gear (that your guys’ mom provided) you thought it was great he found a sport he enjoyed after he burned through basketball, soccer, tennis, and baseball in a matter of a few years. Plus it meant you could have Saturday to yourself for a few hours while everyone else was out of the house. So a win-win in your book.

Or so it was a win before you were left in disbelief, standing off to the side as you watched him talk to Seungcheol. You shook your head, calling out his name as you made your way to the plexiglass wall, wanting to go home. You made the rookie mistake of walking into the rink with no jacket, thinking it would be a quick run of picking him up and going back home. How foolish of you to think things would work out for you.

You let out a small gasp as you made eye contact with your little brother, holding it for a few seconds, only to have him ignore you and continue to talk to his coach, who you knew was aware of your presence. You groan, grounding the heels of your palms into your eyes. Oh how you wished you were an only child in moments like this. Instead you were cursed to be a big sister to a little brother who made your life oh so difficult.

Calling out his name one more time, he finally looked over at you and started to make his way off the rink. You sighed, thankful you weren’t going to have to resort to actually going out on the ice to drag him out.

“Took you long enough, I’m freezing over here,” you said once he was at the wall, carefully stepping onto the non-frozen ground with his skates. “That’s on you for not bringing a jacket into the rink.”

“And that’s on you when all you get for dinner is a slice of bread,” you say when you hand him his sneakers that he had put on the seats before practice had started, and where his backpack was. “Can’t believe you feed me like I’m some paperboy from the 1900s,” he grumbled, but he took the shoes.

Before you could shoot back a reply, Seungcheol skates up to the wall, a smirk on his face. You roll your eyes, wishing he’d go back to doing figure eights or whatever the hell he does on the ice. He calls out your name but you choose to pretend you don’t hear him, instead leaning down to grab your brother’s backpack, a small groan leaving your lips from the sheer weight in his bag. It’s like he carries rocks in this thing, you complain as you shoulder the bag. He shoots you a look as if asking why are you carrying my backpack, but he doesn’t question it, you know the whole gift horse saying.

Just as he finishes tying his shoe, Seungcheol crosses the threshold, leaning against the door as he eyes you. You could feel your eye twitching as you watched him what looked like inspect you, and you fight back a groan when he smirks at you.

“What happened to never seeing each other again prin-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” you grit out, hoping your little brother could help you if he truly cared about you. You glance over at him, and just from the look in his eyes, you know he’s not helping you out. It’s like his eyes are shining with awe just from being near Seungcheol and you wonder what your little brother sees in him.

He can’t be that great, you still– well hate’s not the word, that’s too strong, it’s more so you greatly dislike him for what he did a week ago. You still think it was shitty of him to not tell you anything about being late. And of course his cocky personality is really starting to get on your nerves, especially when he calls you princess, as if you two are that close. You’ve only spoken to him a handful of times and yet he calls you a petname as if you’ve known each other for ages. It just makes your skin crawl.

“You know each other?” Your brother asks, poking his head into the conversation as he looks between the two of you. Before you could say anything, Seungcheol butts in, “she tutors me.”

Your jaw drops as he smiles, as if he didn’t just lie to your little brother. It’s like every time he opens his mouth he finds a new way to piss you off. You dryly chuckle as you grab your brother’s shoulder, trying to guide him away so you can leave. “I don’t, now come on, I gotta start prepping dinner.”

“But it’s Saturday, we usually eat out today,” he says and you give him a tightlipped smile. “I just feel like cooking today so why don’t we go home now.”

At that, it seems like your brother finally puts the pieces together, and nods his head. Just as the two of you are about to leave the rink, Seungcheol calls out your name once again. Already knowing what he’s going to ask you shake your head. “I’ll tell Ms. Park on Monday to find someone else to help you.”

And with that, you’re gone and Seungcheol’s on his own again, wondering how the hell he’s supposed to get his chemistry grade up without your help.

“Do you hate Scoups hyung?” Your brother asks once you pull out of the parking lot, your car currently playing I’ll Make a Man Out of You as you let out a confused sound. “Scoups? Is that what you guys call him,” you chuckle, finding the nickname a little silly.

“He said he doesn’t like people calling him his full name,” he explains with a shrug. “Now, do you hate him?”

Wow, he’s really not letting this go.

You sigh as you look over to your right. He’s looking at you expectantly, as if there’s this great and terrible backstory to explain why you wanted to leave the rink as soon as the hockey player approached you. When you tell your brother what happened a few days ago between the two of you, he just rolls his eyes. Yes rolls his eyes, as if being forced to wait an hour for someone to show up isn’t a good enough reason to dislike a person.

“He apologized, what’s the big deal?” He asks, and it’s moments like this when you're reminded your brother is just a boy. “It’s the fact he made me wait an hour with no heads up that I’m still upset about.” Your brother looks over at you, a small smile on his face. “I think he’s a good guy, I’m sure he had a reason why he was late. I don’t think he meant to blow you off like that.”

You blink, letting his words sink in for a moment before shaking your head, focusing back on the road. “Let’s stop talking about Choi and focus back on planning your essay that you have due on Monday.”

He groans, throwing his head back onto the headrest, complaining about why his teacher needed them to write about an important person in their life. “I’m going to write about our dog,” he mutters once the two of you pull up into the parking lot of your apartment. You chuckle, locking the car as he holds open the elevator for you. “We don’t even have a dog.”

“Ms. Kang doesn’t know that.” He shrugs and sometimes you wonder how your brother’s made it this far. “Whatever you say Frosty, but that essay better be done by tomorrow since mom wants us to go out to eat for dinner.”

“Hey Frosty’s a pretty good name for a dog, you think I could use it for a husky?”

“You know what, go crazy dude.”

The last thing you expect when you were walking to the parking lot, heading over to the middle school to go pick up your brother, was to be pinned against a wall in the science building, much less to see Choi Seungcheol, on his knees, begging for you to not talk to Ms. Park.

You could only blink, wondering what the hell has gotten into him. Did he hit his head too hard from a fall on the ice or something? Feeling a little embarrassed, you try getting him back on his feet before anyone walks down the hall. Thankfully he gets up, but unfortunately he keeps you pinned to the wall, towering over you.

“Choi, what the fuck’s gotten into you,” you mutter, trying to push him slightly away from you, putting some breathing space between the two of you.

“Please don’t talk to Ms. Park to find a replacement tutor.” He quietly says and you could feel your jaw drop. No fucking way he’s still on this. You put your hands on his shoulders, effectively getting him to look at you. “You can’t be serious.”

He groans as he closes his eyes, as if he was thinking of what the best thing to say is. One of your eyebrows raise as you wait to see what he says, and what looks like great reluctance from him, he finally confesses his woes.

“There’s a big tournament coming up in a month and if I wanna play, I need to get my chem grade up.”

You stare at him for a few seconds. That’s it? Why would this concern you? Feeling a little nice, you don’t voice out your thoughts and instead ask, “so what does that have to do with me? You can just find another tutor.”

He shakes his head and you tilt your head to the side, now intrigued on what he could possibly say.

“You’re the only person who actually makes chemistry make sense so if I want a chance to pass this class,” he looks up and your breath hitches when you look into his eyes. You never noticed how pretty his eyes are, or how fucking long his eyelashes are. Shaking those thoughts away, you notice what looks like hope in his eyes, and you realize he really thinks you’ll help him. “I need your help.”

You blink, trying to weigh your options. While you still hold a grudge against him for the first tutoring session, this tournament’s important to him. The two of you are seniors, and depending on his plans for after graduation, this may be the last time he gets to play the sport. Then of course, you can’t stop thinking about what your brother said the other day, and unfortunately for you, you trust your brother’s judgment. And if Seungcheol’s ineligible to play, you really don’t want that to affect your brother’s team. He’s grown to love the sport in the weeks he’s played and you really don’t want him to lose his growing passion.

You sigh, closing your eyes as you lean your head back against the wall. “Fine, I won’t talk to her.” He smiles and before he could thank you, you cut him off. “But just know I’m doing this for my brother, he really seems to like you and I don’t want you failing to affect your coaching.”

“I’ll take it as long as you’re agreeing to keep tutoring me,” he smiles and you’re stunned into silence for a few seconds when you see dimples dot his cheeks. You shake out of it and wiggle out of his grasp. “Yeah, just make sure you’re not late without a heads up, Choi.”

The next few weeks are filled with Choi Seungcheol, and you’re not sure how you feel about that statement just yet. In the beginning, you were still a bit reluctant, still fearing he’d be late with no excuse, but at your first tutoring session, he had arrived at the library before you. You were walking to some of the tables at the back of the library when you heard someone call your name, only to see it was Seungcheol, who had reserved a study room for the two of you and already had all of his notes out.

You felt a little bad even though you arrived on time. You had to drop your brother at home so you couldn’t meet right after school, but you did your best to get there as soon as possible.

He was very attentive while you explained everything to him and you wondered how he was failing chemistry in the first place when it seemed like he knew all the topics. It was when the two of you got to the practice problems did you see where the problems were coming from.

Your teacher, Ms. Park, has the tendency to make half of your homework situational problems, where you had to apply the basic knowledge that, on its own, was quite simple, but once put in a non-laboratory setting became a lot more difficult if one didn’t have a complete grasp on the concept. And that’s what you suspect is happening to Seungcheol, and the reason he was failing the class. Good thing you caught on in the beginning of these sessions and you could plan accordingly.

It was another tutoring session when your phone started ringing, you grabbed your phone, confused on who was calling you when you excused yourself, leaving him to work on a problem on his own while you stepped out into the study room next door to take the call.

Your eyes widen when you hear your little brother’s quiet voice on the other end, hoarse as he asks if you could come back home. You tell him you’re on your way before hanging up the call, and rushing into the study room you were just in.

Seungcheol jumped at your sudden intrusion, but before he could complain about you scaring him, you started to throw your things into your bag, grabbing your keys. “I’m sorry but my little brother’s sick so I gotta go take care of him.”

You were halfway through the door when you turned to look at him, “I’ll make it up to when he’s all better!” And just like that, you were out the door, apologizing to the little kid you almost bulldozed down in your rush to your car.

You make it back home in a new record, most definitely going past the speed limits as you skid into the parking spot in the parking garage, haphazardly raising your hand with your keys in hand in the air as you run towards the elevator, not double checking to see if you actually locked your car. If you didn’t live on the fifth floor, you’d actually consider taking the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator, but alas, not even the haze of trying to get to your little brother was enough for you to suddenly have an increase in stamina.

Thankfully the elevator didn’t take long and you were able to make it to your apartment, throwing open the door as you tossed your backpack down the hallway. You rush into the living room to see your little brother laying across the couch, buried under a pile of blankets. He’s really out of it if he didn’t even bother to look up at all the noise you made trying to get in. You sigh before heading to the bathroom, looking for a thermometer and to check if there was anything you could give him over the counter.

Tsking at the 100.4° on the small screen, you wiped a damp towel over his forehead, wondering how he got this bad in the span of the 45 minutes that you were gone. He didn’t look too bad when you had picked him up from school, tired sure, but not knocking on death’s door like he is now. You were about to give him the medicine you found when there was a knock at the door. Not knowing who it could be, you quickly gave your brother the medicine and headed to the door.

You check through the peephole and take a step back, your jaw slacking as you realize who’s on the other side of your door.

Choi Seungcheol.

How the fuck did he figure out where you live? You don’t remember telling him and last time you checked, your address wasn’t public knowledge. Shaking off the initial shock, you open the door, now curious as to why he’s here. Before he could explain his sudden visit, you beat him to the punch. “How the hell do you know where I live?”

He pointed to the floor above you. “Jeonghan told me, plus it was listed on the emergency contacts your brother filled out.” You blinked at him, wondering why your upstairs neighbor would rat you out like that, or how he knew your exact unit number. Whatever, what’s done is done. You point at the convenience store bag in his hand, asking about what he has.

He brings his free hand to scratch the back on his neck, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips, avoiding eye contact. “I- uh got kinda worried and wanted to check up on you guys.” He brings the bag up, “I don’t know what he’s sick with so I just got the generic stuff and I brought snacks.”

You stare at him for a few moments before chuckling, thanking him as you take the bag from him and gesture for him to follow you into the apartment. He hesitates for a second before you nod at him, assuring him that it’s okay. He slips his shoes off and sets them down next to yours, following you into the apartment.

Your little brother looks a little better, actually looking up when the two of you walk into the living room (it’s only a few steps past the little entryway). He looks at the two of you for a second before laying back down. He shoots back up, as if wondering if Seungcheol is actually in your guys’ apartment.

“Real or am I hallucinating?”

You laugh as you adjust the towel over his forehead, “as crazy as it looks, he’s real. Now you should lie back down while I make you a porridge to eat.” He nods his head, laying back down as he adjusts the towel to sit over his eyes. You expected Seungcheol to stay in the living room with your brother, you didn’t expect him to follow you into the kitchen, asking if he could help you. Getting over the initial shock, something that keeps happening whenever you’re around him apparently, and start telling him to grab everything that you need.

It was funny to see him panic everytime you left him on his own to check on your brother, his eyes wide as his head kept snapping from the stove to you. Who knew the tough hockey captain could get so nervous by being left alone in the kitchen?

Thankfully it didn’t take long for the porridge to be made, and once you confirmed that your brother was able to keep his food down, you went back into the kitchen. “How do you like your ramen Choi?”

You turn to see him pouting and for some reason you feel the urge to poke his cheeks. Weird.

“Why do you keep calling me Choi?” He complains, leaning against the counter as he watches you take out another pot and two packages of your favorite ramen brand. You look over your shoulder, closing the cabinet before standing back up. “Would you prefer me calling you by your full name?” You tease, smiling as you see his cheeks turn the softest shade of pink. He stumbles over his words before you hear him mutter a quiet no, and you just laugh.

“I just don’t get why you call me by my last name instead of what everyone else calls me,” he says, handing you an egg when you ask for one. You shrug, “it started when you blew me off the first tutoring session and it kinda stuck.”

“What do I have to do for you to call me something other than my last name,” he begs, and you laugh at how serious this is for him. You didn’t think his name would be this sore spot for him, but it is amusing to see him so stressed over something so small. You look over at him while the water’s boiling, biting your lip as you pretend to think it over. “Get over a 90 on our next chem test and I might consider it.”

His jaw drops as he stands there frozen for a few seconds before groaning. “A 90? Listen, you're a great tutor but our next test is in literally three days and the best I’m getting is probably a mid 70.”

“Then Choi it is,” you reply, grabbing two bowls. At least he believes he can pass this next test, that’s some progress. Before he can start complaining, you both freeze when you hear your little brother yell out, “can you two stop flirting and get me another bowl of porridge,” and before you can yell at him for even saying that he throws in a little “please” at the end. Wow, how polite of him.

“We’re not flirting!” You say, walking into the living room to take his bowl, and as much as you want to tackle him to the ground for even suggesting you’re flirting with the hockey player, you decide to take pity on him, this time. He’s lucky his body failed him today.

Once your sickly brother is content with his second bowl of porridge, you take your and Seuncheol’s bowls to your small dining table. He follows and you go back for utensils, asking what he’d like to drink. Once everything is set on the table, the two of you start eating in a comfortable silence, the show your brother was watching filling the otherwise silent apartment. Your eyes fall to his backpack that was by the door and you swallow what’s in your mouth before motioning to his bag.

“Wanna continue with where we left off? I really think if we can get past this topic you can definitely score somewhere in the 80s.” His eyes follow at what you’re pointing at, and he nods, finishing his bowl before getting up to grab his backpack, and even getting your backpack that you had thrown earlier.

The two of you pick up where you left off, occasionally taking breaks when your little brother claims he needs your assistance with what he calls “surviving” when in all actuality it was just him wanting another refill of his water.

It was nearing 8 o’clock when the two of you were done for the day. As he was gathering his things, your brother got enough strength to get off the couch, heading to his room before waving bye to Seungcheol, telling him he’d definitely be good to go to practice on Saturday. The hockey player laughs as he leans over the table to fist bump him, telling him he better keep his word. You smile at the exchange, happy to see your brother doing better.

“Come on, I’ll see you down,” you say when he’s gotten all his things. Before he can argue with you about it being unnecessary, you wave him off, saying how it’s the least you could do after he came all the way over to check up on the two of you.

The two of you are in the elevator when he finally speaks again.

“Is it usually the two of you this late into the evening?” He asks, his eyes hesitantly flitting from your face to the wall next to your head. You hum, leaning against the railing with your eyes closed, “our mom works late at the hospital and…” You trail off, opening your eyes to see Seungcheol watching you, something in his eyes that makes you look away, the floor suddenly a lot more interesting to look at. Why does he look at you with so much care?

“Our dad left when my brother was a couple of months old so it's just been us three,” you say, not quite believing you're actually telling him this about yourself. Hell, you don’t even know if he has siblings and yet you’re out here telling him your family life. Crazy what some dimples and pretty brown eyes can do to a girl.

“Oh.”

Ah, probably should’ve lied about your absent father. Something about him working late should’ve been excuse enough. Well, too late for that you internally groan at. Before you can apologize for making things awkward, he interrupts you.

“Can we move our tutoring sessions to your place?”

Your jaw drops for a few seconds before you snap out of it, blinking to try to get your brain caught up to speed. “Why?”

He sighs, turning away to face the elevator doors and you’ve never been more thankful for someone to stop looking at you. “I kinda hate the idea of your little brother waiting at home by himself while you’re tutoring me.”

“He’s twelve, but as long as you don’t mind coming over here,” you say, glancing over at him, “then okay, we can move to our apartment.” He smiles and you feel this weird pang in your chest. The last time you felt this excited over a person was when you were getting ready for your date with Changkyun the other day. Does that mean you’re starting to actually enjoy Seungcheol’s company?

Bound to happen considering you spend your Monday and Wednesday afternoons with the guy. It’s just, it feels different than what you felt with Changkyun and part of you just wants to bury that thought away and focus on anything else. Thankfully the elevator ride didn’t last too long and you walked Seungcheol to his car, your chest feeling a little bit tighter as you watched him drive away.

It’s Saturday and you’re back at the rink to pick up your brother from practice. He’d gotten better and while you were hesitant to drop him off at practice, he insisted that he was all good to practice. You let him go, but not without texting Seungcheol before heading over to practice, asking him to keep an eye on your brother. This was the first time you texted him about something other than about your tutoring sessions and while your hands were shaking just thinking about talking to him about something other than chemistry, thankfully he agreed to keep an eye on your brother.

You grab a jacket from the backseat, not wanting to freeze while you wait for your brother. He always manages to be the last one out of the rink, always talking to Seungcheol while everyone else skates towards the door to change out of their skates and into their shoes.

And just like the past couple of weeks, your brother was still out on the ice, except instead of the two standing to the side talking about their practice, the two were skating over across the ice, the small black puck gliding between the two of them as they pass the puck amongst themselves. If you squint, you can see what you assumed is Seungcheol giving your brother tips because soon he nods and adjusts his hold on his stick.

Then, catching the two of you off guard, he steals the puck from the hockey player, successfully scoring a goal on the unguarded net. Your mouth falls open before cheering for your brother. Sure it wasn't a game changing play, but you were still proud of him. Upon hearing your cheering, your brother skates to the wall where you’re standing, the short wall and the plexiglass the only thing separating the two of you.

“Did you see that! I totally got him good!” He excitedly told you and you smiled. “Sure did dude, next time I think you should go for his knees, then you’d have no one stopping you,” you joke, smiling as your little brother laughs, complaining how that’s “not very good sportsmanship” but winks at you when Seungcheol skates over to the two of you, wiping off some of the ice shavings off his pants.

“I can’t believe you’re telling your brother to kill me, princess,” he pouts and you roll your eyes, glad it’s so cold in the rink you can’t tell if your face is burning from the petname or from the freezing temperatures. You roll your eyes, pulling the collar of your jacket higher in an effort to cover your face. “Isn’t that part of the sport Choi, pushing and shoving each other?”

He shrugs, a smile on his face. “Glad to see you know something about the sport, I see Frosty over has been teaching you.” Your brother groans when he hears his coach use the nickname you gave him once he started hockey. It started off as a small joke that somehow morphed to having the whole team only ever calling him Frosty. Hey, at least he’s already got a marketable name, you told him one day when you were driving back home after practice a few weeks ago.

You shrug, tugging your jacket tighter. In all actuality your brother hadn’t explained the sport all that much besides the occasional “you don’t do that” or “that’s a good thing” or other vague explanations when you ask him questions. Instead, after a tutoring session with Seungcheol, and as a way to procrastinate an essay you had to work on, you decided to look into the sport. It wasn’t much, just a quick google search about the rules that had you clicking off the site after a few paragraphs and instead watching a couple of matches on youtube. You had half the mind to ask Seungcheol but decided against it. You were just supposed to be tutoring him in chemistry and you thought learning more about the sport he put years in was a little much for you. (And the thought of him in his full uniform was starting to make your heart ache just a little much.)

“Might as well since I come here once a week,” you say, and Seungcheol smiles, and you wish he didn’t have such a cute smile. His gummy smile is going to be the death of you, you think as you look over to see if your brother’s got his shoes on.

You don’t know when you started to see Seungcheol in a different light. Probably around the time your brother got sick since that was the first time you got to see him not in a school setting. Or to be more exact, the moment he asked if your tutoring sessions could be moved to your apartment so you could watch over your brother. Whenever it was, you wished it didn’t happen.

After the results of the chemistry test the two of you have a week, your tutoring sessions would be over since by then you’d know whether or not he’d be good to compete in the tournament. While a part of you was sad to think about not being with him every Monday and Wednesday with him, you’re at least happy about the fact his grade’s would be doing better. And sure, at first you were helping him out reluctantly, but after spending so much time with him, you realized he was nothing like you originally thought he was like.

Your first meeting really was just a fluke, and he was just a nice guy. You actually had asked him after a few sessions why he was so late to the first tutoring session and you can remember the cute blush that grew on his face as he explained how he was planning the youth hockey team’s practice and lost track of the time. He looked so cute, his cheeks a rosy pink and a small pout on his lips, and that’s when you thought, yeah, he’s not that bad of a guy.

“Okay, I’m good to go,” your brother says, and you blink, snapping out of your thoughts. You nod, extending your hand to help him carry some of his gear. Noticing your empty motions, Seungcheol takes a step towards you but you shake your head. “I’ll see you on Monday Choi.”

“Yeah… see you later, princess.”

You’re really, truly fucked, you come to realize as you stare at your phone. Why, just why did you have to send that text?

Your friend, who was under the impression you still hated Seungcheol for blowing you off the first tutoring session, asked if there was a way you could set her up with him for a date. And you, still not wanting to admit the fact that you’ve definitely started catching feelings for the captain, agreed to set the two up. And trying to convince yourself that the warm feeling you get in your chest from just seeing him smile meant nothing, you sent a text wondering if he was down to meet with your friend over the weekend.

And now you’re waiting for a response, hoping that he won’t agree to the date. Hell, you’re on your knees hoping that even if he does say yes, that it goes horrible so they don’t keep meeting. Terrible, yes, but your heart can’t handle the idea of someone who isn’t you by his side. And yet you still won’t admit that you have a crush on him. (Denial is one hell of a drug.)

When you hear your phone go off from a notification, you push yourself off the floor, where you’ve made home the past couple of minutes. With a shaky hand, you flip your phone over, clicking on the notification.

Choi 🏒: tell her sorry, I’m not interested in dating right now 🫤

Oh.

He’s not interested in dating right now? For some reason that hurts more than if he said he is interested in the date. With a shaky inhale you text him back, letting him know you’ll let her know and you toss your phone away, burying your face against your knees.

Okay so maybe you do have a crush on Seungcheol, big fucking hurray.

You’re walking back to your car when you hear someone calling out your name. You recognize the voice and freeze, wondering what Seungcheol wants with you and wishing he’d just leave you alone. Despite him doing nothing wrong, you really don’t want to see him right now, especially since you were going to use the drive back home to prepare yourself for your tutoring session with him.

He runs up to you, a smile on his face as he blocks you from opening the driver’s side. You cross your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow as you look at him. “What’s up Choi?”

“I came by to tell you that I can’t make it to today’s session.” He explains and you notice how his cheeks are tinted pink. Just how far was he running from? You give him a look as you lean against your car. “So why didn’t you just text me then?”

“I wanted to see you.”

Your eyes widen as you turn to face him fully. You feel your face burn as you try unsuccessfully to say something in return. He smiles and you want nothing more than to wipe his adorable smile off his face. The fact he doesn’t even know the emotional turmoil he’s putting you through is insane and you wish he didn’t have this much power over you. You try coughing, covering your face as you look away from him. “Yeah, whatever, is that all you have to say?”

He nods and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweats and still with that frustratingly cute smile, his stupid dimples on full display, “I’m still good for Wednesday though, I want to celebrate our last session before the test Friday.” You nod, a tight lipped smile on display as you wave him goodbye.

Once in the comfort of your car, you groan, dropping your head on the steering wheel, wishing you weren’t so crushed over this. Things come up all the time, it’s not a big deal he can’t make it today. If anything you can just use this time to get your homework done for the week so you don’t have to worry about it later. Maybe instead of groveling over a guy you could actually be productive for once.

Wednesday rolls around and you don’t think you’ve given yourself a chance to think about Seungcheol. How could you when you’ve been busy doing your homework, planning what you’d cover in today’s session, helping your brother with his homework, doing all the chores around the apartment, and if you weren’t busy with all that you had your headphones on, not even giving yourself the chance to think. Who needs to think when you’ve been so busy?

You pull out of the parking lot of the middle school, your little brother grabbing your phone to change the song that was playing. Sticking to a song that you hoped wouldn’t show up on your spotify wrapped, you keep driving, your thoughts starting to drift off to Seungcheol. Catching yourself, you will yourself to listen to the song your brother chose, and you wonder which was worse for your mental health.

Once in the comfort of your apartment, your little brother heads off to his room claiming how he doesn’t want to watch his older sister flirt with his hockey coach while he does his homework. At first you’d argue that you weren’t but as of late you knew there was no saving yourself and didn’t even try to fight back anymore, only groaning as you started to set the table.

A few minutes later you hear someone at the door and you take a deep breath, preparing yourself to get through your last session and as a way to prepare your heart for the inevitable. Seungcheol smiles as he steps inside, slipping off his shoes as he places them next to yours. You turn around and your eyes widen as your face heats up as you take in his appearance. He was just wearing a pair of sweats and a black shirt and yet you could feel your heartbeat race at the sight. You quickly turn around, pretending to adjust your notebook as you try to calm your beating heart. He’s worn that outfit combo tons of times and yet now your heart decides to give you trouble.

If he notices your internal struggle, he doesn’t say anything. He takes his seat at the table, taking out his things as you finally look at him to start. Hopefully your heart can take the next few hours, if not, thankfully your mom’s a registered nurse.

“Hey princess,” he starts and you, against your better judgment, smile at the petname, “can I ask you something.” You put your pencil down, turning to face him as he put his pencil down, the problem you had given him to work on an afterthought. “Sure, go ahead.”

“If I ace this test will you come watch me play in my tournament?” He asks, his eyes sparkling with hope and you find yourself leaning against your hand to cover your mouth so he can’t see the dopey smile on your face. “When you say ace, how high of a score are we talking here,” you tease. You don’t know where this sudden confidence came from but if it helps you from burning away in your seat, you’ll take it.

He smirks, leaning close to you and your breath hitches, freezing in your seat. “I say at least a mid 90.” You chuckle, leaning in close as you internally scream at yourself to back the fuck away from him. “Sure, you got yourself a deal, but I’m expecting the best from you Choi.” You say, beginning to turn away so he can’t see the dopey smile on your face.

“Of course, can't disappoint my princess, can I?” His pointer finger and thumb gently hold your chin, making you look at him and his stupid smug face that you so desperately want to kiss.

Oh yeah, your heart’s definitely going to explode.

You think you mutter something along the lines of “in your dreams Choi” but at this point you’re not even sure you can still rangle up enough brain cells to formulate a coherent thought. Heat floods your cheeks as he still holds your face and you swear you see his eyes fall to your lips, or at least you think they do. You’re too busy staring at his lips to really be too sure.

Somehow your one brain cell manages to scramble enough thoughts to control your body, except it makes you lean in closer to him, close enough you can feel his breath hover over your lips. Your eyes flutter shut and just when you think everything is going great you hear your little brother yell your name from his room and that’s enough to snap the two of you out of the daze you’re in. You clear your throat, excusing yourself as you push out your chair and head to your brother’s room, wondering what the hell he needs that he just needs you right now.

“What do you want?” You hiss out, leaning against the doorframe of his room. He looks up from his desk, papers scattered across the wooden surface as he turns his swivel chair to face you. He shrugs, “I felt this weird disturbance in the force and called you over here.”

It takes everything in you to not throw him across his room. You sigh, “yeah that disturbance was born twelve years ago.”

“Hey!” He throws a pokemon plushie, piplup if you remember correctly, at you. You duck and the plushie hits your bedroom door behind you. You turn around to pick it up, only to immediately throw it back at him, and successfully manage to hit him in the head with it. He stumbles back in his chair and you laugh at him. He glares at you for a moment before breaking out into laughter as well. “Okay fine good aim, I’ll give it to you,” he acknowledges with a surrender of his hands, the plushie back on his shelves, joining the rest of his collection. “Now go back to tutoring Scoups hyung so you can make dinner.”

You shake your head, a small smile on your face. “You can always make dinner, you should probably start now since I’ll be going off to coll-”

“Don’t say the c word!” He interrupts, a new pokemon plushie in hand. His eyes are wide and your smile softens before it’s turning into a small pout. The past year you’ve been trying to teach your brother how to take care of things around the apartment since soon it’ll just be him waiting for your mom to come home, but each time he always changes the subject, or even resorting to throwing his plushies to stop the conversation. In that moment you don’t see your twelve year old brother who loves to get on your nerves, instead you see your baby brother who never left your side for anything. Your other half despite the six year difference between the two of you.

Before you know it, your throat tightens up as you watch him lower the plushie, turned away so he’s not looking at you. “Um… you should probably go back to Scoups hyung.” His voice is small, like if speaks any louder and he might start crying.

You nod, slowly backing out of his room, “yeah, just let me know if you need anything.” You turn to walk out when you turn back to face him, “I’ll make your favorite for dinner tonight.” His head perks up and you smile at him, to which he returns.

You make it back to the living room to see Seungcheol working on the problems you had left him. You let out a small chuckle, and he looks up, smiling when he notices your back. “Everything okay?”

You nod, “he’s fine, he was just a little bored.” He smiles and the two of you get back to your homework. Soon enough, the two of you finish, even with the practice you gave him to really prepare him for your upcoming test, and you relax in your seat, a smile on your face. Seungcheol faces you, his smile growing as he looks from his papers to you. “Thank you, I don’t think I could’ve done this without you.”

You wave his compliment off, your smile perpetually stuck on your face when you're around him. “Nope, it’s all you Choi, I’m simply here to help you. Now you’ve gotta ace this test so I can go watch you win this tournament.” He smiles and you don’t think you’d ever find dimples this cute on another person in your life.

“Anything for you, princess.”

You’re walking out of your last period class when you hear Seungcheol call your name out. You turn around, already smiling since you know what this is going to be about, and judging by his voice, it’s going to be good news.

He runs up to you, stapled papers in hand and you just know it’s his chemistry test. He makes it infront of you, his hands coming up to hold your shoulders in an effort to stabilize himself, his test pressing against your shoulder. “I got my results back!”

You laugh, your hands coming up to rest over his, smiling and feeling heat begin to creep up your face at the close proximity. “I can tell, but come on I’m dying to know what you got Choi.” A light blush grows on his face as his smile grows, his hands moving away from your shoulders as he straightens up his test since it had gotten crumpled during everything.

Once it was straightened out, he flipped it over, handing the test to you. You take the test and your eyes widen when you see the large 100 written next to his name. You look up to see him smiling and in your excitement, you pull him into a hug. “Oh my god! I knew you could do it, this is amazing!” He tightens his hold on you, picking you off the ground to spin you in a hug. You’re laughing as he gently sets you down, you’re smiling so much your cheeks are starting to hurt but you don’t even care right now. You’re just so happy for Seungcheol, happy that this means he gets to play in his tournament.

He pulls you into another hug, muttering into your hair, “thank you, I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.” You pull him closer, “of course Cheol.”

The day of the tournament arrived and you don’t know why you’re so nervous. Seungcheol and the team have been doing great all day, moving farther and farther up the rackets, and yet you’re still nervous. It probably has to deal with the fact neither of you really discussed what happened last week, the whole really intimate hug in the middle of the hallway and all that. You two actually were texting back and forth the past week, and yet neither of you dared to talk about the hallway incident.

Just like how neither one of you spoke about the almost kiss back in your apartment.

So your nerves are most definitely tied to whatever you got going on with the captain of the hockey, the very same captain who’s leading his team to victory. This is the first time you’re seeing Seungcheol in his full uniform and damn, he looks good in his uniform. Something about how it makes him look larger just makes your heart beat faster every time he skates by where you’re sitting.

The first time he skated by, you watched as he did a double-take before smiling his gummy smile, dimples on full display and waving at you and your brother, who insisted on coming along. (You weren’t going to tell him no, of course you’re going to bring him along.) Occasionally, he’d shoot you a look, smiling at you and you’d wave at him, feeling your face burn up every time.

It’s the final match of the day, and you don’t think you’ve screamed this much in your life. You always make sure to cheer for Seungcheol every time he makes a goal, and halfway through the day, it turns into a competition between you and your brother on who could cheer the loudest for him. And you’re not about to lose against your brother.

Somehow the match had gone into overtime due to the teams being tied and you’re at the edge of your seat, your little brother in the same position. At some point he grabbed your gloved hand, squeezing tight as they entered the sudden death overtime. (Why the hell is it called that?) You squeeze his hand as you watch Seungcheol go head to head against someone on the other team and you hold your breath watching as the two try to steal the puck from the other.

Just when it looks like the other guy’s about to steal the puck, Seungcheol finds an opening, sending the puck into the unguarded goal, making the winning shot.

You and your brother shoot up in your seats, and you pull him into a hug as you both jump in excitement and happiness. Seungcheol gets affectionately tackled by his teammates as they swarm him, and you can hear them chanting their captain’s name as the announcer relays the winning team. You look over once you’ve calmed down a bit and somehow manage to make eye contact with him. You smile and you mouth “I’m so proud of you," hoping he’d be able to understand you.

It seems like he does because soon enough it looks like he mouths something along the lines of, “all for you, princess.”

The tournament’s over now and you’re waiting for your little brother to finish in the restroom before you two head back home. A part of you wishes you’d get to see Seungcheol before leaving but he’s probably busy with after game things and celebrating that you’ll just settle with talking to him some other time.

You’re about to text your brother to ask him where he’s at when you feel someone come up from behind you, spinning you around. You shriek, holding your phone close to your chest, about to curse out whoever it was when you hear the person laughing and you immediately soften, knowing exactly who it is.

He sets you back down, turning you to face him. You smile and before you can even open your mouth to congratulate him on winning his senior tournament, he cups your face, leaning in to kiss you. Your eyes widen at the contact before they flutter shut, your own hands coming up to rest over his. His hands are freezing but you don’t mind, not when your face is burning up enough you’re sure you could warm up his hands in minutes. Your hands drift from his to rest over his shoulders, pulling him closer as you lean slightly back, with him following. He pulls away from the kiss to catch his breath, causing you to chase after his lips, already missing the pillowy feeling of them on your own. He chuckles before dipping down to kiss you again when someone clears their throat.

You groan, already knowing who it is, dreading whatever comment he has to say. You look over your shoulder, only to see your little brother smiling. You definitely expected him to be pulling some disgusted face to make fun of you. Instead he was smiling, smiling so big you would think he just won a year’s supply of his favorite food.

“If you’re done making out with your boyfriend, do you wanna ask him if he wants to join us for dinner?”

Seungcheol's hand slips into your own, squeezing your gloved hand as you look up at him. His smile is so big and his cheeks are a pretty pink blush. “I really like the sound of that, what do you think princess?”

You like that a lot, you think, squeezing his hand as you drag him to follow you and your brother, laughing when you hear his teammates cheering for their captain, for finally getting his girl.

Maybe tutoring the captain wasn’t so bad after all.

557 notes · View notes

yesimwriting · 4 months

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there's something about bestfriend!felix who has never had to restrain himself when it comes to feelings, who can't stand letting that much feeling just sit inside of him with nowhere to go.

he learns to hold it all in because feeling that deeply attached to one person isn't something he's used to, so it's a little confusing and hard to label, and maybe he's a little prone to commitment issues. but the main thing that keeps him from saying anything is the importance of the bond the two of you have created.

it's a kind of connection he's never had before, a trust and understanding that he's extremely protective of. so he doesn't say anything.

so he compromises with himself, allowing his affection to bleed into your friendship as much as the confines of a platonic relationship will allow. part of it is to satiate the need to be closer to you, and the rest of it is because he doesn't want anyone to think you're not his.

he's never been one to share, so he makes it as clear as he can that you're off limits.

when the two of you go out, he's even touchier than usual. some of it's the drinking and atmosphere, but most of it is because he can. you're close enough to leave giggly kisses against each other other's cheeks, hands, shoulders, necks. whatever's easiest to reach. he'll pull an arm around you to guide you through a crowded bar because you'll let him without hesitation.

and if felix catton constantly being all over you isn't enough to ward off every guy at oxford, he has nothing against appearing at your side and placing a hand around your waist. it doesn't matter if the guy is in the middle of a sentence or if you're saying something, you'll stop everything to immediately greet felix.

it's a subtle possessiveness that extends beyond just nights out. if you two are studying in the library with a group of friends, you're sitting next to him. if you're out to dinner with a group, he's mentioning inside jokes and topics of conversation that he knows you're interest in to make sure that he's your favorite.

if felix can't be your boyfriend, he's going to be your favorite person. he's not your friend, he's your best friend. a title that he makes sure to emphasize constantly. if you introduce him to someone as your friend, he's quick to teasingly correct you. thought i was your best friend.

he also uses the term to justify any hints of jealousy, and to get his way. if you're spending more time with a different friend (girl, boy, it doesn't matter), he's pouting a little when you finally do see him. if you notice and start expressing concern, he'll admit to it. "surprised you had time to notice anything about me." and when you're, rightfully, confused, he continues, "you're spending all your time with them, and i'm supposed to be your best friend."

sometimes, if its gone on for a significant amount of time, he'll start to think that maybe he's actually mad at you. it isn't fair, but felix can't help it. he'll do anything for you, and you're replacing him with someone that can't care about you the way he does.

but then you'll look at him, all wide eyed and exuding genuine shock at the thought of felix ever not being your best friend. you'll coddle him as much as he'll let you. he'll try to put up a hard exterior, but he's melting and letting it go almost immediately.

----

a short blurb to tide you all over and help me think through a request bc i wanted to finish writing it today but had to do a ton of homework instead <3

almost didn't post this bc the purpose of it was for me to work on characterization in a low stakes way after using up all of my mental but then decided why not!

a fuller, better developed version of this is coming soon 😭

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains

#saltburn imagine #saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #felix catton #bestfriend!felix #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader

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wardenparker · 7 months

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Mother Knows Best

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 17.5k Warnings: Food/alcohol, meddling mama, cursing, reader is an unapologetic nerd, flirting with books, BDSM mention (but no portrayal), vagina sex, protected sex (wrap it before you tap it), praise and a little dirty talk. Summary: Marcus Pike's mother has a tendency to overstep a little. While she means well, any time she has ever tried to set him up it has always turned out terribly. This time, though, she's pretty sure she has it right when she arranges for Marcus to go on a blind date with the youngest member of her book club. Notes: This all kind of sprang out of a TikTok I found about a bookshop date idea. And I'm not sorry about it in the least. Also, subtle shout out to my brother-in-law's band is buried in conversation 🎶

"Marcus sweetie, what are you doing on Saturday?" Donna Pike is pulling weeds in her garden with her younger son in a lounge chair nearby, and she tries to make the question as nonchalant as possible. It's Sunday now and she might as well be asking what he wants for dinner. Although her idea of what he might be doing for dinner on the night in question is almost definitely different than whatever Marcus might have in mind. He has been back in Washington D.C. for almost four months and has spent the whole time sulking – something that no mother likes to see.

Marcus is probably more relaxed than he's been in a few months. Finally deciding that he is better off without Teresa since she would rather be with someone else more than him. His eyes half closed as he holds his beer, he answers without even thinking about it. Or why giving his mother an empty day without plans wasn't a good idea. "Nothing." He hums, smiling slightly at the thought of not having any work or responsibilities.

"Oh?" Donna smirks, glancing over her shoulder to see Marcus has his eyes shut as he sits in the sun. "No dinner plans? Drinks with coworkers?" She asks carefully, keeping her tone breezy as she weeds the tomato bed.

"Not a damn thing." He admits again, not seeing the smirk on his mother's face, otherwise alarm bells would be sounding in his head. Instead, he's plotting what he will do with his day off. Hopefully sleeping until ten is the first thing on the list. Then he might take a book out to the Mall lawn and read in the sun. Pick up one of those touristy drinks to sip on as he does.

"So..." Training one eye on him as she pulls another weed up from the root, Donna's lip curls into a smile. "You would be free for dinner, then?"

"You want me to take you to dinner?" Marcus's father passed nearly eight years ago and when he could, he would take his mother out to a nice dinner. Making sure that she felt special. "Sure."

"Not exactly what I had in mind, sweetie." Donna is all-out grinning at this point, and maybe even a little evilly. "Do you remember my telling you about a new girl joining our book club? She works with Marjorie Klein at the Library of Congress?" Every time Marjorie talked about her new colleague it seemed like the younger woman would be a perfect fit for their group, so six months ago they had offered up the empty spot at their table. Now, every time Donna Pike sees or hears from you, she seems to become more and more convinced that you would be perfect for her youngest child.

"Mom...no." Marcus shakes his head and immediately drowns the rest of his beer bottle and desperately wishes another would appear. "No, no, you aren't setting me up, again."

"But Marcus she's such a good match!" She won't say 'perfect' because that will make Marcus revolt and probably run away screaming. But she has such a good feeling about this one. "And I might have already scheduled the date with her..." Might is such an innocent lie. She definitely already scheduled the blind date with you after giving you a few background details on her baby boy.

“Mooooooooooom.” The sigh Marcus gives is one of extreme frustration. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but no. I can get my own dates.” The truth was, his mother had horrible taste in choosing women that she thought Marcus would be interested in.

"Oh yeah?" Donna tucks her proverbial tongue securely in her cheek. "Is that why you've been hanging around your old Ma's house so much the last few months? Because you're so good at getting your own dates?" She tilts her head at him and waves one hand, dismissing the tease immediately. "She's sweet, Marcus. And so smart. You don't have to marry the girl, but it's hard to get back out there sometimes. Just...give it a try?"

“It’s— I just got out of that thing with Teresa, Ma.” He reminds her and notices the expectant look on his mother’s face. She’s well meaning, really she is, but god does she meddle. “You already told her I would go out with her, didn’t you?”

“The thing with Teresa was months ago.” Donna’s grin spreads like wildfire. “She’s a nice girl and I called in a favor to get you a table at Founding Farmer’s because I know you like to keep the first date kind of casual.” Something she considers a mistake, but she knew that if she had gone and made a reservation somewhere more upscale then Marcus would squawk.

“Jesus Christ.” Marcus groans, slapping his hand over his face and imagining how boring and completely incompatible this woman is for his mother to talk about how nice and sweet she is. All the other girls she has tried to hook Marcus up with since he was a teenager have been a train wreck. “What time?” He sighs, resigned to his Saturday being ruined.

“Seven-thirty.” Crows his mother, who definitely made sure that the reservation was early enough in the night that they could do something else afterward. “I really think you’re going to like her, sweetie.”

He thinks he’ll be wasting an hour of his life but he grunts in response, already dreading Saturday.

******

You’re probably taking this far too seriously, all things considered. The book club of mostly middle-aged and older ladies that you had been offered a place in by one of your coworkers has been really nice. Everybody sits around and drinks and gossips about the book characters like they’re real people, and there is always good food. You like the ladies in the book club, you really do. But this whole idea of a blind date with Donna Pike’s son has you nervous for some reason.

Blind dates don’t typically go well for you but you’re honestly kind of desperate. It’s been nearly a year since your last date that even qualifies as mediocre and at this point you would say yes to just about anyone halfway decent. And with that in mind, you kiss your cat goodbye and smooth one hand down your floral sundress before slinging on your leather jacket to keep out the autumnal chill. If nothing else, maybe you’ll have a nice meal tonight.

Marcus sighs as he checks his reflection in the mirror one more time. He had opted to leave the suit at home, but couldn’t dress down completely casual. The restaurant that his mom had chosen would be nice enough that slacks, a polo and a sports coat wouldn’t look too out of place. Despite his reservations, he is wanting to make an effort. He sniffs his cologne to make sure he didn’t douse himself and picks up his keys. Off to see what a nightmare this would be, although he hopes that this girl won’t throw a glass of wine in his face when he reveals he’s a federal agent.

Founding Farmer’s is bustling when you arrive, packed to the gills and you wonder if the younger Pike brother thought to make reservations. For now you adjust the (admittedly cheesy) flower in your jacket lapel and slide over to the bar to order a cocktail. If he stands you up, you at least want to have a drink in hand to soothe the embarrassment.

There had been a fierce internal debate on if he should stop outside the little flower stand that was just a block down from the restaurant to buy some flowers. Romantic Marcus would do it, and even though he had not asked this girl out, she deserves the niceties that had been bred into him after watching his father continuously court his mother through their marriage. When he enters the door of the Founding Farmer's, he can see why he had to park two blocks away and is grateful that his mother had made reservations. "I— I have a reservation. Marcus Pike." He tells the frazzled hostess. "But I'm waiting for someone...." He cranes his neck to look around, not sure exactly who he is looking for. His mother had been very vague with the physical description, which doesn't help on a blind date.

You hear him before you see him — sitting just a few feet behind the hostess stand is strategic, and you hear him give his name. The most careful sneak of a peak nearly has your jaw on the ground and you sit straight up again immediately. He’s gorgeous. Absolutely drop-dead movie star level gorgeous. And he’s carrying flowers identical to the one tucked into your jacket, making you smile unexpectedly. “Marcus?” You turn slowly on your stool, hoping you’re not about to make an idiot of yourself.

He hears his name and looks around again, his eyes searching until they fall on a lovely looking woman wearing a pretty sundress and jacket. A flower in her lapel in a move that immediately makes him grin at the old-style charm of the gesture. He nods and says the name his mother gave him, finding himself hoping that you are that person.

“That’s me.” Sliding off of your stool with your glass in hand, you put out your other hand to him and smile. His mother absolutely failed to mention that her son is an absolute dreamboat. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I feel like I’ve heard a hundred stories about you and your brother already.”

You're pretty. Maybe it's shallow, or vain even, but Marcus had been worried when his mother had focused so hard on how nice and sweet you are. He's not the type of man who insults someone because of their looks, but physical attraction is a basic for any romantic relationship and some of the women who would be just ‘perfect’ for him in his mother's eyes didn't fit in any of the categories. Not even intellectually. He shakes your hand firmly and smiles. "It's all lies, I swear." He jokes, offering you the flowers. "I'm afraid that you have me at a disadvantage because I know your name and that you are sweet."

"The ladies in the book club sort of adopted me." The flowers are beautiful, and fresh, and you inhale the scent happily as the hostess leads you to a small, secluded table in the corner. "And I..." You laugh self-consciously, shrugging a little. "I just want you to know that I had nothing to do with this. It was all Donna's idea. So if we don't get along or something, it's no hard feelings."

"I have to apologize." Marcus shakes his head, enjoying the sounds of your light, nervous laugh. "My mother likes to meddle, so if you weren't actually interested, I will understand." He moves to pull out your chair for you when the hostess indicates the table and looks at you expectantly. It's your choice if you wish to sit down or not.

Maybe it's shallow – to take one look at him and know for sure that you're at least going to ride out this dinner to see what he's like. But then, isn't that what blind dates are, at least a little? Judging a book by its cover and then taking a peek to see what's inside? "I think it would be a shame to miss out on making a new friend, even if that's all this amounts to," you tell him as you sit down.

He can agree with that, admire it even. Smiling again and he wonders if that's all this will amount to. "What are you drinking?" He asks, nodding towards your glass that you had brought from the bar.

"It's called a Farmer's Daughter," you tell him, holding up the half-drunk glass of delicious fruity-boozy goodness. "Vodka, lime, passion fruit, raspberry...something else that I didn't know what it was so I can't remember what it's called. Domaine de something?" Shrugging shelf-consciously, you offer him the glass to try a sip. "It's fantastic."

It's charming the way you offer him a drink. He takes it and tries a small sip. "That's good." He agrees. "I was going to suggest a bottle of wine, but perhaps another of these?" He asks you.

The hostess nods and disappears after leaving your menus, and you sit back in your seat a little bit more comfortably than before. "This place has their own spirits. It seemed too good to pass up, and turns out that was the right choice." A small smile plays on your lips and you really don't know where it's coming from but you feel strangely confident tonight. "So you're usually a wine guy?"

“I am.” He nods, knowing that he would happily split a bottle with good conversation and laughs. “Are you more of a cocktail girl?”

"Usually." Again, you shrug, but offer him a smile. "But only because I know nothing about wine. I'd like to learn, if I found that I knew somebody who wouldn't mind teaching me."

“Well, if you like, we can have one more of those delicious cocktails and I’ll order a bottle of my favorite wine for you to try?” He offers. “Or perhaps just a glass to share, and if you don’t like it, we can explore what you do like?”

"That sounds like fun, actually." Normally when a guy offered to 'teach' you something it was just him insisting that he knew all the best of something or had every fact memorized. Marcus isn't like that and you relax just a little bit more with this discovery. A little bit of sharing and get to know you is perfect for a first date.

“Yeah?” He grins and nods, admiring your sense of adventure and that smile that you are giving him. “Okay, so the wine I like is kinda of dry, a red. That sound okay?”

"Sure." You agree brightly, basically up for trying whatever he suggests. "Like I said, I know nothing about wine. You could be ordering the stuff that comes in a box and I would just trust you that it's good."

He laughs, enjoying your honestly. “No boxed stuff, I promise.” He tells you and thanks the waiter when he comes back with your cocktail. “I’m sorry, but could we also have a glass of the Marqués de Riscal Rioja Reserva 2012?” He asks with a small shrug. “I couldn’t decide what I wanted, and now I do.”

Oblivious to the fact that that could have been an entendre, the waiter just nods and walks away, leaving the two of you alone at your cozy table again. "So..." you can't help the way your cheeks have gotten a little warmer in the last few seconds. "Is there anything you would like to know about me up front? You said your mother didn't tell you much."

“She did tell me that you work at the Library of Congress.” Marcus nudges the new drink towards you and takes the half finished one. He’s already drank after you, so it’s nothing to him. “So what do you do there?”

"I am a preservationist in the Children's Literature Center." Your work is delicate, and it is important, but some people find it unbelievable that your entire career is dedicated specifically to kids' books. "I'm part of the team that is digitizing rare children's books so that their contents will never be lost."

“Wow.” He’s impressed, knowing that is important work. Literature sound be preserved for the future generations to enjoy, much like art. “That’s— that’s gotta be pretty interesting day in and day out.”

“It’s no game of cops and robbers.” His mother had bragged about his promotions more than once, and you can’t help but smirk slightly when his ears turn red. “But I keep busy.”

“So you know that I’m a federal agent?” He asks, not sure what all his mother had rambled on about. Knowing her, she had told you about every girlfriend he had.

“Yes. Donna is extremely proud of you, so we all heard all about the last promotion.” Taking a sip of your drink, you feel just a touch of warmth is your cheeks that is all attraction and not from the cocktail at all. “Congratulations, by the way.”

“Thank you.” He bites his lip, caught between being embarrassed his mom was talking him up and enjoying the congratulations. The joy of his success has been sucked away by the Teresa thing, but he’s been trying to get back on track. “She’s just happy I’m close.”

“She’s very glad you’re home.” You can absolutely attest to that. It’s sweet, actually. They clearly get along well. “It sounds like if she could get your older brother to move back, she’d be in heaven having you both here.”

“Don’t think he’ll be moving to D.C. anytime soon.” Marcus admits. “But she’s happy to get out of the cold to go visit him during Christmas.”

“Louisiana always sounded like fun to be. Like a completely different world from anywhere else.” Probably that thought comes from having grown up in the thick of the Canadian border, but still. It seemed romantic to think about. “She said he’s in New Orleans?”

“Yeah.” He nods and grins. “He keeps telling me to come down for Mardi Gras.”

“Sounds like fun.” He has just one perfect dimple and you swear this is the first time you’ve understood why anyone would swoon. “Are you liking being back in DC, at least?”

“What’s not to love?” He asks, looking up again when the waiter returns with the glass of wine. “The museum, the Mall, the historic sites. I love walking through the Smithsonian.”

“I will absolutely drink to that,” you agree without hesitation. “This city is pretty much perfect as far as I’m concerned.”

He hums as he hands you the glass. “Try a sip of this, it’s dry but floral. I love this with a good cheese board.”

“A charcuterie guy, too? Nothing I love more than Adult Lunchables.” The grin on your face grows as you take the glass, giving it a sniff like you have any idea whatsoever what to look for, and take an adventurous sip. “Ooh that’s…I don’t know what I was expecting but that’s great. It’s like…it’s rich but it’s not heavy, if that makes sense?”

He nods and grins at you. “Now, imagine it with a funky cheese and a tart grape. Or a salty cracker.” He tells you, proud that you enjoy it. “Maybe a glass with dinner?”

“Absolutely.” It’s like a wake up for your senses, and even though you enjoy the sweet cocktail that you had ordered initially, the wine sounds like a decadent and very mature option for dinner. “Do you have any idea what you’ll order for food yet?”

“I figured I was going to order the braised short ribs with wilted summer greens and braised carrots.” He tells you, having looked at the menu before he ever arrived.

“Sounds pretty perfect.” When the waiter comes back you fill out your order, getting a basket of the kettle corn that the waiter gushes over to start with and ordering your dinners with another glass of wine so you can both indulge a little as you get to know each other.

“So, were you as nervous about tonight as I was?” The wine is being passed back and forth between you as your cocktail has been abandoned. He takes a sip and raises a brow at you in challenge.

"Terrified," you admit with a small laugh, but there is no point in trying to act smooth or more charming than you are. You're a slightly awkward person in general, and sometimes that can be charming all on its own. Or so you've been told. "I'm not...great at dating. Then the book club ladies took it upon themselves to figure out whose son was closest to my age and, well...here we are."

He laughs at the image you paint, all the ladies tossing out their eligible sons’ birthdays like trading cards. “Well, hopefully, you are enjoying yourself.” He offers with a grin, setting his elbows on the table and leaning in. The liquor and wine are loosening him up slightly, but it’s more that he’s enjoying conversing with you. Something he’s really missed about dating or being in a relationship with someone.

"I really am." His laugh is deep and rings in his chest, making his smile a little broader every time and making you wish that you had thought of something compelling or deeply interesting to tell him about yourself before setting foot in this restaurant tonight. But you had feared the worst, and expected the mediocre, so maybe that was the entire reason you found yourself enjoying this night? Simply by being handsome, intelligent, charming, and interesting, he was already blowing every single expectation you had out of the water. "Hopefully you are, too?"

“I am.” He gives you a small, self-conscious shrug. “My mother doesn’t have the best record when it comes to setting me up.” He admits. “The last one was a part of some antigovernment group and threw a glass of wine in my face when she found out I was, quote, a ‘fed pig’.” He tells you with the air quotes.

“That…” It takes a beat of extreme self-control not to laugh at how ridiculous that is, but you manage to keep yourself together. “Please say she didn’t know that this girl was anti-government when she set you up?”

“She had met her in her favorite bookstore.” He shakes his head and laughs. “Didn’t have a clue but she had to find another bookstore because it was the girl behind the counter.”

“But she tries to find you girls that read, huh?” That encourages you a bit. That Donna considers her son that intelligent. After all, he can’t be a slouch – not in art crimes. He has to at least have a little history and culture under his belt.

“I don’t want to always talk work, or politics.” He admits. “She had raised me to love reading and I’m forever grateful for that.”

“What do you like to read?” The question is automatic for you – something that you always ask new acquaintances and especially dates. It’s an important part of getting to know someone. “Personal curiosity as well as professional. I promise.”

“I can read anything.” Marcus tells you. “But, I spend so much time reading reports that I really enjoy fiction. Thrillers, intrigue. Even the odd romance novel.” He blushes when he admits that but he’s not going to lie.

“A good romance novel is entirely underrated. They’re great character studies. Plus?” You grin and pick up a piece of popcorn. There are only a few left in the basket and you’re enjoying the salty-sweetness with his dry wine. “Anyone who claims they don’t enjoy love stories is either lying or a bummer.”

“It’s like not liking classic movies.” He agrees with a grin. “I feel like some of the emotion has been lost. You give me Casablanca any day and I’ll show you a movie that is about loss as much as it is love.”

“I dumped a guy once for not liking classic movies,” you admit, albeit a little sheepishly. “He said that black and white was dumb because life is in color so ‘why weren’t all movies?’ And that all the stories were too trope-y. Can you believe that? Where did he think the tropes came from in the first place?”

“They are the model for the tropes.” He chuckles. “We had a class when I was in high school where you read classic literature and watched classic movies. I think it should be standard around the country. It helped shape my love of black and white movies.”

“I used to watch them with my mom whenever I was home sick.” Those memories are still so vivid for you, and precious. It had felt like a personal insult and not just a preference when the previous guy had talked down about classic cinema. “She got to see Katharine Hepburn in Coco in New York City when she was little and just worshipped her ever since. So, of course, I did too. And we would just watch everything we could get our hands on.”

“Oh wow.” Marcus is impressed and he shows it. “It would have been something, I’m sure.” He agrees. “I’m not all classical though. I like a good mix of modern as well. My old band used to play in Texas and I would go see them.”

“That’s right.” Donna had told you all about his band, of course, but it had slipped your mind while you got distracted over how attractive Marcus is. “Bass player, right?”

“Yeah.” He huffs out a small laugh, wondering if his mother had complained that he hadn’t wanted to cut his hair when he was playing, or if she was bragging. “And some vocals. Mainly backup.”

“Don’t downplay it.” You grin, watching his cheeks turn pink yet again. “I can’t carry a tune in a bucket. And getting on stage? I think I’d panic. That’s something you can be really proud of.”

“It’s not that bad.” Marcus tells you. “Just pick the prettiest girl and imagine them – uh –” he falters for a second. “Kissing you.” He supplies.

“Is that how you get past stage fright?” You have definitely never heard of that particular tactic before and you nearly giggle with how embarrassed Marcus looks admitting it. “Seems like we ought to get you back on stage then, shouldn’t we? That’s a very nice fantasy to let yourself play out.”

“Nahhh it’s been a long time since I’ve been on a stage.” He admits. “I like to just drink a beer and dance with the pretty girl.”

“Oh yeah?” The impulse to insinuate yourself into that situation is deep but you just smile, knowing very well that your cheeks and ears are burning with the thought. “Sounds…pretty perfect.”

“Yeah?” He grins and there’s a partial idea forming for later tonight if the rest of dinner goes like it is now. “Does it sound good to you?” He asks. “What’s your ideal date?”

“I—” Clearing your throat slightly, your skin burns even more. “Dinner and dancing, probably? Or going to see a screening of an old movie together.” Taking a sip of the wine before you hand it back to him, you brace yourself for the tingle you’ve been getting whenever your fingers brush. “I saw a TikTok the other day of a bookstore date, too. That looked fun.”

“A bookstore date?” He’s intrigued on that what that would entail. He leans in and snags the wine glass to take another sip. He should really order another glass so you each have your own, but there is something oddly fun about sharing. “Tell me about that.”

“It’s silly.” But somehow, you think he might like silly. “There’s this list of prompts. And you roll a die to see which prompt you get and you’re supposed to go all over the bookstore looking for a book to read that fits the prompts. It’s…to a librarian it sounds fantastic…choosing books for each other and having an automatic something to talk about on the next date, ya know?”

“That sounds like a great date.” Marcus agrees, liking the adventurousness of it. “A really good date. Maybe even you have to call the other person to read them a portion of the book that appeals to you.”

“I haven’t had anybody read to me in ages…” You can feel how soft you get in response to the idea but you just can’t seem to care. Every few minutes Marcus Pike seems to get more and more perfect. “That sounds absolutely dreamy.”

“You haven’t?” He’s surprised at that, and then there’s a little fantasy that plays out in his head. Calling you every night that he could and reading a few paragraphs to you while you are snuggled in your bed. “Maybe that will change.” He hums.

"I think I'd like that." The way he says it makes you feel so hopeful, like maybe this night is going as well for him as it is for you, and you bite your lip to hold back a full-force grin. "I think I'd like that a whole lot."

Marcus actually hates when the waiter comes back to order the meals, allowing you to order first and he puts in his order for his own meal and asks for another glass of wine. “Do you want one, or do you want to keep sharing?”

"I'm not going to lie, I kind of like the sharing," you admit with an embarrassed grin. This waiter just smiles politely and steps away, having seen plenty of good and bad dates over his career and not really thinking anything of the request.

“I like it too.” He admits with a matching grin. “Although if we order dessert, we’ll need to change to different wine.” He tells you.

"Ah, so my education continues?" He wouldn't have brought it up if he wasn't thinking about it in the back of his mind, and that makes your smile grow. "I know I've seen Dessert wines listed on menus before but other than knowing they exist, I don't think I could name anything else about them."

“They are sweeter, crisper.” He tells you. “Meant to enhance the flavor of the desserts. We will have to see if we have room.” He grins. “My sides are meant to be shared.”

“Maybe we’ll have to come back?” You venture, hopeful at the idea that tonight is going well enough to lead to a second date.

“It is a very good wine list.” He tells you with a grin. “Although there’s this little place down near the Potomac that is a wine bar paired with your – what did you call it? Adult Lunchables?” He tilts his head. “I think you might like that.”

The fact that he picks up on the thread immediately makes you flush warm again and grin so broadly that your cheeks ache. “It sounds perfect,” you admit. “Although I think Donna might float just a little if she finds out we’re planning date number two before the entree is even served on date number one.”

“We don’t have to tell her.” His own grin turns slightly mischievous. “Let her dangle for a bit before we let her know about that. It’ll drive her crazy.”

"You know I'm going to get just as many voicemails as you, right?" The devilish smile highlights his dimple far too perfectly and just about has you swooning, but you manage to keep it down to just a girlish giggle. "Are you going to be a bad influence on me, Marcus?"

“Depends on what you think is bad.” Marcus quips, winking at you as he leans back. You are charming, funny, sweet. All things that his mother had noted but he’s also attracted to you. And thoroughly enjoying this date.

Confidence looks very fucking sexy on him, and you end up leaning forward instinctively when he leans back, like he's pulling a string somewhere inside your ribcage when he goes. "Maybe I like bad. And I'm just making sure I'm going to enjoy myself?"

There’s a split second where Marcus has a choice on if he’s going to make a dirty innuendo, just like you have. “Oh, I guarantee you’ll enjoy yourself.” He promises, that grin turning slightly salacious. “Multiple times.”

He knows full fucking well what he’s doing, and the poorly timed sip of wine you have just taken nearly comes out your nose when you quickly cover your mouth with one hand to keep from spitting it everywhere or even choking on it. “Guarantee, huh?” When you can breathe again and don’t have wine in your mouth anymore, you manage to raise one steady eyebrow at him. “You’re a very confident man, Agent Pike.”

“It’s a money back kind of thing.” He teases, enjoying the easy banter and the fact that you are leaning into the atmosphere rather than getting offended by it.

“Oh, I see.” You tease right back, loving the freedom in the atmosphere between you. “So I’m investing in my future enjoyment?”

“Exactly.” He hums, nodding in an exaggerated manner. “You understand perfectly.”

******

“I don’t think I can do it,” you groan playfully, looking over the empty plates of the amazing dinner you just shared and knowing that dessert would have disastrous consequences. “I think I might pop like a balloon.”

“It was a lot of food.” Marcus admits, his own stomach edging just on the cusp of being overly full. “Plus the wine. So I don’t think I can make room either.” He sighs and leans back to rub his belly just to tease.

“It’s a good thing it’s a beautiful night for a walk.” The thought had been brewing for a while, and you offer Marcus a hopeful smile. “Only if you’re up for it, of course.”

“Absolutely.” The check is discreetly placed by his elbow and he shakes his head when you move to your purse. “This is my treat.” He insists, pulling out his wallet and putting his credit card down without glancing at the bill.

“Then next time will be mine,” you insist, having a feeling that Marcus is not at all the kind of guy to let that fly, but at the same time you have to wonder when the last time was that he allowed anyone to take care of him.

He hums, not agreeing or disagreeing. “So, where would you like to walk?” He asks. “There’s a lot of little shops and bars nearby.”

Pennsylvania Avenue is certainly lively, and since you had taken the Metro you don’t particularly care what direction you head in. “We could always head toward the Mall and let ourselves get distracted along the way?” You suggest, wanting to leave the night wide open for anything or everything.

“That sounds good to me.” Marcus brought his car, but the neighborhood is relatively safe and the parking isn’t by the hours. “Do you have comfortable enough shoes on?” He hadn’t noticed your footwear, but he wants to check.

“I’m not really a heels kind of girl,” you admit, hoping that that won’t break some kind of weird unconscious rule he has in his head. You’ve been told before that you should dress more femininely but the idea that high heels are the only feminine footwear seems utterly ridiculous. “And I’m always up for a walk.”

“That’s good.” He chuckles and when both of you stand from the table he kicks out a foot and shows his comfortable loafers. “I have to wear dress shoes at work, but I’m never going to bash comfortable footwear.”

“I learned a long time ago that knee-high boots go with almost any dress or skirt.” You take his arm when he offers it – very gentlemanly – and before you know it you’re out in the crisp night air. The moon is high and the streetlamps are bright, and you sigh a little contentment. Tonight is so, so much better than you thought it was going to be.

“That sigh is either a very good sign or a bad one.” He teases, looking over at you with a playful grin. “Can I ask which?”

“It’s good, I promise.” And as if to prove you, you send him a beaming smile. “I was just thinking how nice the night is, that’s all.”

“It is a nice night.” Marcus agrees. The air has just a bite to it without being bitter and yet it is still cozy. The dark night is illuminated by the streetlamps and the noise from bars and shops spills out onto the sidewalk in muted tones. “It seems magical, doesn’t it?”

“It does.” You agree with a grin, but for you, that magic is pouring off him – not the street around you.

******

“Hey look.” It’s a building that he hasn’t really noticed before but maybe it’s because he hadn’t been looking for it before. “Do you want to stop?”

“Sure.” You’d agree to almost anything right now and you shrug. “What is it?”

“Well, the name is Tomes and Tannins, so I’m thinking it might be one of those trendy wine shop slash bookstores?” He grins at you. “Why don’t we find out?”

“That is a level of fancy I never thought I would reach,” you admit with a grin and let him lead you inside. It’s deceptively mood-lit inside but with enough supplemental lights that you can read everything you need to, and there are cafe tables with chairs smattered around some mismatched armchairs and ever sofas with drink tables at either end. It’s cozy and welcoming, and obviously meant for you to stay a while.

“Hmmm this looks promising, right?” He asks, looking to see if you approve. “Interesting place.”

“Books and wine? Sounds amazing and looks even better.” A beaming smile of affirmation is all for him and you nudge him toward the stacks. “Where do you want to start?”

“Well…” he smirks slightly. “Show me that date idea that you liked? Picking out books for the other to read?”

“Oh!” Somehow you had already forgotten, and grin guiltily as you pull up the list of twenty prompts on your phone. “You’re supposed to roll a die to find out what numbers you get. Roll a die, find a book for each of us that fits the prompt, and just keep going until we decide we have our arms full.” Digging into your purse, you come out with a d20 from when you play Dungeons and Dragons with your friends and hold it up. “Do you want to go first?”

“Ladies first.” Marcus grins and motions towards a bookshelf. “Roll there and we will see what we come up with.”

Normally a high roll would be a great thing to get, but as you stare at the 17 that pops up on the die, you skim down the list on your phone and feel yourself smirk. “Number seventeen. A book that inspired a tv show or movie.”

“Now is this for me to find for you?” Marcus asks seriously. “Or is this your criteria for my book?”

“I think we’re both supposed to pick a book for each other that fits the category.” The video hadn’t exactly been clear, but that is how you interpreted it. And it sounded like the most fun way to do it anyway.

“Okay. So we each find the other a book that inspired a tv show or movie.” He agrees. “I say I roll and then we separate. We don’t show the other the book until we are done picking them out.”

“Alright.” You hold up the d20 to offer it to him. “Roll away, G-man.”

Marcus plucks the die from your fingers and puts it in his palm to close his fist around him. Grinning as he blows on it playfully like he’s rolling dice in a casino. “Here we go.” He tells you before tossing it down.

It's playful and sweet, and you giggle softly when the die hits the shelf and comes up with the number 5. You consult your list, tilting your head with a grin when you read what category he ended up with. "Number five. A book with an overly long title."

He hums and nods. “Why don’t we add a little bit of a challenge?” He asks. You tilt your head curiously, obviously interested. “We have ten minutes per book, so twenty minutes total. When the twenty minutes is up, we meet at the tables to have a glass of wine and exchange books.”

"Deal." The element of a game makes you smile even more broadly, and you hold up your finger before he can jet away from you. "One more thing?" You ask and wait until he nods. "I want to know your least favourite book of all time. Just so I don't grab it by accident."

“Honestly?” He gives you a guilty grin. “I hate the Lord of the Flies.” He admits with a small shrug. “Hated when it was required reading.”

"You are in no way the first person I've ever met who hated that book," you promise him, smothering a little laugh in the process. "I did not like Gone With the Wind. Couldn't even force myself to be empathetic with any of the characters, which is a shame. The plot is interesting."

“The movie is better, at least it’s watchable.” Marcus admits. “I always hated the scene after the little girl died.”

"Alright." Pulling out your phone, you set a timer for twenty minutes and watch him follow suit with that mischievous smile painted back in place. "Ten minutes for each book, and then we meet right back here for wine and to trade titles."

“Good luck.” With a wink, Marcus whirls around and rushes off, already having a title or three in mind.

It becomes a sort of secondary game – any time you run into each other in the maze of shelves you immediately guard the books you are carrying with your entire bodies and back away or even sprint away from each other so that the surprises won't be spoiled. It has the two of you giggling like idiots and has definitely attracted the attention of some of the other patrons, but no one seems to really mind. Who could possibly mind people having fun in a bookstore?

When he finds what he wants, Marcus barely resists hiding it under his jacket as he rushes up to the counter to make his purchase. Wondering if you will call him out or be disappointed. So he has a backup plan in case. Taking his bag and looking around the bookstore as he walks towards the table you agreed to meet him at.

You use an entire eighteen minutes debating whether or not it's cheating to just grab two of your favourite books to see if he'll like them before you finally just do it. They do fit the categories and he did say that he likes romances so one of them is only sort of a stretch. Grabbing the two novels, you head to the register and then back to the table, only to see him already sitting there. "You were speedy," you observe, raising one eyebrow as you sit down across from him at the table.

“I know what I want.” Marcus tells you, biting back the grin that he wants to display and feeling giddy for his reveal. He motions towards the board that displays what wines they have available. “Do you want to get a glass before we exchange?”

"Sure." He's being cheeky and it's sexy as hell, so you nod and bite back a grin. "You're the wine guru, so I'll try whatever you say is good."

“I think something sweet.” He decides. “A nice Shiraz for us to share?” He asks, wanting to know if you want your own glass or to share again.

"A shiraz to share sounds perfect." Not that you know what the hell shiraz is besides the obvious conclusion that it's wine, but the sharing part is what sounds best to you.

“Okay.” He nods and shoots you a wary look. “No peeking while I order.” He orders playfully, pointing at you. “I’ll be watching.”

He steps up to the counter and you dutifully put your hands on top of the brown paper bag stamped with the shop's logo that you paid for, not peaking in the bag he bought despite desperately wanting to. He comes back in less than three minutes but you're already near squirming in your seat because the suspense is killing you.

“Okay. This is a glass of Layer Cake.” He tells you. “Sounds good, but it’s honestly a first for me too.” He was feeling adventurous and wanted a new experience with you. He’s had shiraz, but he wanted to try this at the same time you did.

"So it's a new adventure for both of us, then." That somehow makes it feel romantic and not just sweet, but it would be silly to say so. "You take the first sip, I insist."

He chuckles. “So I can make sure it’s not poisoned?” He teases. “As you wish, my princess.”

The 'princess' bit makes your cheeks burn, but you don't want to admit that you want to know whether or not he likes it first. There's something about trying wines that makes you nervous and you don't want to accidentally end up loving something that he thinks is subpar. Maybe that's trying wines that is intimidating you, or maybe it's just that you like him. You can't tell, honestly.

Picking up the glass, he sniffs and hums before taking a sip. “Oh this is good.” He groans. “That would be good anytime you wanted wine.”

"Well now I'm excited." He hands the glass over to you and you take a sip, immediately sighing. "Oh, that's fantastic. That would have made me a wine person ages ago."

“I’m selfishly glad that you are exploring it with me.” He admits, admiring how you savor the wine and take another small sip.

"Feel free to be selfish, then, because this is fantastic." Handing the glass back to him, you waggle your bag in his direction with excitement. "Number seventeen or number five first?"

“You want to go first?” He asks, not caring at all. “Sure. Why don’t you surprise me?”

"Your librarian date is excited about books. This should be no surprise." Laughing as you reach into the bag, the book on top is what you decide to go with and you pull out an old faithful favourite. "Number five. A book with an overly long title." You tell him, presenting him with a copy of Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flagg.

Marcus bites his lip and takes the book. “Okay.” He nods. “That is a long title.” He’s a little worried that you won’t like what he had chosen now.

"You look nervous." He does take the book, though, not reject it. "Have you read it before? It's okay if you have...or if you didn't like it." You're not one of those people who believes that a couple has to like all the same things, after all.

“No, no, I haven’t read this one.” He promises. “I can’t wait to see what it’s about. Especially since you seem to love it.”

"I do." It would be kind of useless to claim otherwise, and you sit back in your chair to accept the glass of wine from him. "What did you find for number five?"

“So…” he flashes you a small grin. “I kind of…cheated.” He admits. “I chose a book that is both five and seventeen.” He admits. “But now, so have you so I’m completely thinking that I fucked up. But I’ve got a corny ass back up.” He rushes out to assure you.

"You say cheating, I say creativity." You do bite your lip though, before admitting, "I actually have two of my favourite books that worked for what we rolled...so this is kind of just my excuse to show them to you. Which is also cheating. Just a little."

At least you aren’t mad. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a beautiful hardback book. “My book for you is this. The Princess Bride: S. Morgenstern's Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure.” He slides the book in front of you.

It probably isn't the reaction he expects to have you almost tear up at the table, but you gently place your hands on the book and draw it closer to you like it is something delicate and precious – which, to you, it is. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that I mentioned wanting to be read to, does it?" You ask him with a grin. "Marcus it's perfect. And believe it or not...despite this being one of my favourite movies? I've never read the book."

“You haven’t?” His jaw drops and he shakes his head. “I don’t know which I like better, the movie or the book.” He admits. “I have my own copy at home.”

"I've read Cary Elwes' book, but somehow not the novel." The way he lights up at having made a good choice for you might be the most adorable thing you've ever seen. "I guess that's finally about to change."

“I did get another book but I decided it was a bit much after.” He admits, slightly flustered that he bought that book. But it has been made into a movie.

“What was the other one?” His ears have turned red and now you have to know, even nudging the wine glass back toward him in case he needs a little courage.

He blows out a breath and pulls out the other book from the bag. “Okay, but don’t judge me.” He begs, revealing the front of Fifty Shades of Grey.

“Why Marcus, is this a hint?” He has turned an even deeper shade of red and you can’t resist another giggle before batting your eyelashes at him.

“I— no, I don’t mean— it’s just that—” he sputters and chokes on his words before he heaves a sigh and drops his chin to his chest. “Fuck. I knew I should have just found something else.”

“You only should have grabbed something else if you didn’t mean to flirt with me,” you tell him honestly and pull your own book that inspired a tv show or movie out of your paper bag to hand him. The Duke & I by Julia Quinn now has images from the Bridgerton tv show splashed all over the cover, making it unmistakable. “You said you like romance novels sometimes,” you defend, shrugging your shoulders.

“I’ve not read this.” He admits, reaching for the book to read the inside cover. “It sounds interesting. This is a show right?”

“Bridgerton.” You nod, wondering what - if anything - he’s heard about it. “Most people call it something like… ‘horny Jane Austen’.”

He snorts and chuckles to himself as he continues to read it. “Then I see why it appeals.” He jokes. “Nothing like love and sex.”

“Technically isn’t that what this is, too?” You ask, waggling the copy of 50 Shades at him. “Just… kinkier.” It’s an honest question, really. Since you’ve never read it.

“It’s – not bad but you can tell that whoever wrote this is just guessing at what they think BDSM is about.” Marcus tells you.

"So...do that mean you do know what BDSM is about?" It's an intriguing thought, to imagine this otherwise very clean-cut looking guy being into anything kinky, and you can't say you hate it. Not at all.

"I—" He never should have opened his mouth. He never should have opened his goddamn mouth. If it was possible to get any hotter, Marcus swears his face would just burst into flames. This isn't something that his mother would know because there is zero chance in hell he would ever tell her. "I was undercover." He explains. "The people I was— associating with, they were into that kind of scene." He bites his lip. "I had to do a lot of research on it, but I've never actually, you know, uh, practiced it." He assures you.

"Please don't think I'm judging," you reach over the table quickly to give his hand a squeeze and shake your head vehemently. "Honestly, if anything? I find it very...interesting. But have never practiced any of it, either."

"I just don't want you thinking that I'm—" He shrugs slightly. "I don't know what I'm trying to say. Normally I'm more confident than this, but not this time." He chuckles quietly.

"You don't want me to think you're kinky?" You ask, tilting your head slightly. "It's not a bad thing to be. But...I'm sorry if I did anything to shake that confidence." With a half-smirk, you shrug one shoulder in admission. "I promise you'd be extremely confident if you could hear the monologue in my head tonight."

"You didn't do anything, I promise." Marcus reaches out after you had pulled back and takes your hand again. "My last...relationship. She's the one that kind of screwed with my head." He confesses quietly. "But I want to know about this internal monologue of yours."

"The coworker." Of course his mother had told you about his ex-fiancée. She hadn't wanted you to feel like she was throwing you into an unknown situation. "From what your mom said...she sounds like she was a little...dishonest? And that's bullshit. I'm sorry you had to deal with that."

"It's done." There's nothing he can do to change it, and he's not sure that he would want to now that he's looking back on the situation. "But I'm hoping that I can get that confidence back."

"Well, if you hadn't said anything, I never would have known that this is the less confident version of you." His hand dwarfs yours, the warmth of it completely welcoming and overtaking all your senses. And it's so, so welcome.

"Is the book, alright?" He asks. "You can just read the first one if you want."

"Oh, no." The grin you aim his way is mischievous. "I'm definitely going to read both. Who knows? I might learn something."

"Have you seen the movies?" He asks curiously.

"No..." You can feel your cheeks heat up all over again. "It always seemed...I don't know, maybe I'm just really vanilla, but they always seemed so close to porn to me?" Not that that is a bad thing. And not that you don't watch your share of porn. Just usually not of the BDSM variety.

"It was actually pretty tastefully done." Marcus admits. "I've seen them. My ex wanted to see them, so..." He shrugs. "You go see them."

"See? You're already a font of information compared to me." His hand is still covering yours and you shiver a little at the innuendo of it all. Of how warm and tempting he is. "I guess I'll have to catch up. Educate myself."

It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell you that you can watch the movies together, but that might be too forward. Instead, he grins. “Sounds like you have a research plan.”

"Apparently so." Under the table, the toe of your shoe finds the back of his leg completely by accident as you shift in your seat, and you grin guiltily. "I was about to apologize for that," you admit, knowing that it must have seemed like you were trying to play footsies or something under the table. "But honestly? I'm not sorry."

“Really?” His brow lifts and he shoots you a grin. “You like playing footsie?” He asks, his own foot reaching out and tapping yours gently.

"I think it's kind of cute, honestly." The innocent shrug is accompanied by a bright, smitten smile, and you nudge Marcus's foot back playfully.

“Best part of cuddling is sliding your foot along the leg of your cuddle buddy.” He tells you. “Or letting your hands wander.”

"Mmm...it's hands." And he has such huge hands...the possibilities are endless. "It's definitely hands."

“You’re a touch kind of girl?” He asks, intrigued by the idea and he wonders if your love language is physical touch. He’s noticed that you’ve reached out several times when reassuring him.

"Touch is a powerful thing." You reason, not making a single move to take your hand out of his. "It can be intense or gentle, reassuring or electrifying. It can be almost anything."

“Electrifyingly reassuring.” Marcus quips, squeezing your hand gently. He picks up the wine with his free hand and takes a sip.

"Like it's exciting but at the same time...feels kind of...right?" Which is exactly how you feel about him, and you're kind of going out on a limb admitting it but you don't think he's gearing up to reject you.

It does, he looks down at your joined hands and smiles. "I think so." He hands you the wine and hums. "Now, we have a couple of options for the rest of the night, if you're up for it." He grins. "We can continue to walk and talk. Or...." He shrugs. "I have my car back at the restaurant and I can drive you back to my place and we can have a cheese board and read to each other?"

He knows what he’s offering — not even in a salacious way — and that a night of reading books is like catnip to a librarian. You can’t help but get excited for it. Even the most boring night in the world would be improved by this, but tonight? With how it’s going? It sounds practically like foreplay. “What are we waiting for?” You ask, grinning, and take the last sip of wine from the glass. “We both have brand new books to read and my guess is that you definitetly have a couch big enough for two. I’d say that decision is easy.”

"Yeah?" He had expected you to say no. It's the first date after all. Beaming at you, he motions towards the wine. "Do you want to get a bottle of this to take with us?" He asks. "It would go good with any of the adult Lunchable things we can get."

“You’re going to keep teasing me about it, but I stand by that description.” You do nod though, having thoroughly enjoyed this particular glass of wine even more than what he had ordered at dinner.

He chuckles. "It's a good one." He admits. "I've never looked at it that way, but now I can see why you say that. I used to beg my mom to buy Lunchables."

“And now you love charcuterie. Which is the very same thing in a much neater package.” It’s silly, but you’ve always liked silly. It can really open a person up.

He squeezes your hand. "You finish that glass and I will see about getting us a bottle to take home." He tells you, letting go to stand up and quickly walk back to the counter. Feeling incredible about this date and almost hating that he had ever been dreading it.

Two sips and a purchased bottle later, the two of you are out the door of the little shop and heading back in the direction of the restaurant to retrieve Marcus’s car. The night is clear and crisp now and even though the city lights glow brighter than the stars you can sweat you feel the distinct light of the moon before anything else.

“How did you come to dinner?” He asks as he guides you towards his car. “If you feel more comfortable following me, I can give you the address.” He huffs. “Although I should probably do that anyway so you can send it to a girlfriend.”

“I have to admit, it’s comforting to have a guy even acknowledge that kind of thing.” Especially that he’s a federal agent, and doesn’t seem to feel entitled to your obedience or safety based purely on that fact. Instead he dutifully gives you his address after you tell him that you took public transportation to get here, and you send it off to your best friend.

“I understand.” He admits. “The number of people who disregard others safety or their own drives me insane sometimes. At the end of the day if someone gets offended for wanting to feel secure, they don’t have good intentions.” Marcus tells you. “Plus, my mother would kick my ass.”

“She definitely would.” You can agree to that, and thank him quietly when Marcus opens the passenger door for you to get into his car. The address he had given you was in Georgetown so you had a short but nice drive ahead.

“So what kind of music do you like?” He asks as he starts the car and looks behind him to back out of the spot. “Feel free to change it to whatever you like.”

“I would never change Pearl Jam.” Is the very serious reply he gets from you, as the alternative rock station he has programmed on his satellite radio is currently playing ‘Even Flow’. “There was a band that played in my college town that did all 90s rock covers and they were the absolute best shows to go to.”

“That had to be awesome.” Marcus hums. “I was too busy playing to really see a lot of shows and I regret it. But I loved being in the band.”

“Well then I guess we’ll have to find some live music to go see.” There seems like plenty of common ground that you can pick up on together and that is a very good sign if nothing else. “If the sound of a 90s influenced jam band doesn’t make you want to run for the hills, The Southern Ocean is playing at The Runaway this weekend.”

“I’ve never heard of them.” Marcus admits sheepishly. He’s been focused on work and not really out on the social scene the past few months. “Are they good?”

“I mean, I think so.” It’s not exactly surprising that the name is unknown to him and you glance over at him while he drives. “Their bassist is a friend, so I try to support whenever I can.”

“Then that’s definitely something I would want to check out.” Marcus nods. “It’s always good when you see friends play.”

“Would you want to come with me?” It’s only slightly presumptuous to plan out a second date when you’re still in the middle of the first one, but you like Marcus. You like him. He’s smart and handsome as hell and sweet, and even balances flirtation and respect on the perfect level. Honestly, you can’t imagine what kind of an idiot his exes were to let him get away.

“If you’re offering.” He smiles. “Who the hell ever resists an invitation from a pretty girl to go see a band?” He shakes his head. “I might be dumb, but I’m no fool.”

“You’re not dumb. Or a fool.” That’s exactly the kind of thing you don’t put up with from guys you date and you were glad to be able to rule it out very early with Marcus. You exchange a small smile at the next light when he pulls up to it and for the rest of the ride you sing along with the music and just enjoy yourselves.

When he pulls up to his house, Marcus is sort of panicking. Wondering if he had picked up this morning after he had dropped his clothes on the floor from his run. The last thing he wanted was for you to think that he was a slob.

“Home sweet home?” You guess, looking up at the picturesque blue house with its literal white picket fence. It even has a gate out front that someone lovingly painted flowers on in lieu of adding a name.

“Yeah.” He chuckles and gives a small shrug. “It was a hell of a deal when I stumbled on it and I jumped.”

“It’s beautiful.” The lawn is dotted with wildflowers from what you can see in the dark, and suddenly the mental image of stargazing with him on a blanket is impossible to shake.

“Thank you. Luckily, I pay a wonderful company to keep the yard looking nice because I don’t have time to do it.” He admits with a small laugh.

“They do a much better job than the landlord at my duplex,” you offer him a smile before he slides out of the car and goes around to your door to let you out. The front door is a mere six steps away and Marcus’s house is even sweeter and more inviting once that door is open. It’s like somebody built the set of a Hallmark movie in real life just for this handsome FBI agent.

“So, this is home.” He knows that it’s decorated more than the standard bachelor pad and he’s okay with that. He’s not the type of man to just have a chair and a tv in the living room. “Make yourself comfortable, I can put your coat in the closet if you want?”

“Thanks.” It’s the most intimate contact you’ve had tonight besides holding hands, and you swear you can feel your skin tingle when he slides your jacket off your shoulders for you before hanging it beside his in the closet. The little shiver that runs through you is a private thrill and you know you probably look dreamy as hell as you follow him past the living room to the kitchen.

“How about you arrange the cheese board while I open and pour the wine?” He asks as he opens the refrigerator to pull out the sliced cheeses and meats he keeps there because he likes them.

It sounds wonderfully domestic, and you agree to it easily as he pulls out a small board and sets it down on the counter. Packages of Gruyère, havarti, and something marked Seriously Sharp cheddar all fill out the board and you do your valiant best at attempting to fold and rolls the slices of cured meats into petite little roses for the two of you to enjoy demolishing together. Some fresh grapes and cherry preserves join the tray, and Marcus produces a half of a baguette seemingly out of nowhere once the wine is poured. It’s all deceptively easy, the way you seem to work with and around each other, and by the time you make it back out to the living room you know you’re just completely gone for this man. His little smiles, deep laugh, and soft demeanor have you utterly relaxed and so, so smitten.

“Do you want to put on some music?” Marcus asks. “Maybe we can just relax. Lean back and read to each other?” He’s leaning into the idea that you would like this and he wants to make sure that you enjoy yourself.

“What do you want to read first?” It sounds like possibly the most romantic idea in the world – just sitting and reading to each other in comfort with an indulgent (and savory) dessert. If the thought of curling up with him and finding out what it feels like to be close to him is anything, it is fairly close to perfection.

“Ladies choice.” He hums quietly, moving over to the record player he has sitting next to the collection of vinyl’s. It’s not to look snooty, he’s been obsessed with them since his mother played them while cleaning, claiming it sounded better. For classical music, it does. It brings back a sense of nostalgia, sets a mood.

“Rachmaninov?” The melody sounds familiar, like something out of a dream, when it starts up and the name seems to drudge itself out of the depths of your memory. “That’s got fantasy and romance written all over it.”

He hadn’t chosen the music with that in mind, but he smiles. “Too much?” He asks, even though he doesn’t feel like you will think that.

“Not at all.” In fact, just the opposite. It feels just right. “But it feels like The Duke & I or Princess Bride for sure.”

“Okay.” He smiles as he moves over to the couch and toes off his loafers to reveal the dress socks he had been wearing underneath. “You can get comfortable.” He promises, taking off his sports jacket and removing his tie.

Getting Comfortable on a date for you would usually lead to sexier things than snacks and reading — but then, is there anything sexier than reading in the first place? For a librarian that seems impossible. So instead, you follow suit and toe off your boots to curl up in the couch beside him.

It seems almost natural to have you curl into the crook of his body and Marcus opens his arms slightly. “How about I read to you to start?” He asks softly.

For most people this might be a recipe for falling asleep, but tonight the sound of his voice is vibrating through the thin fabric of your dress as you lean against him. The lingering scene of his cologne mixed with the wine and new book smell in a way more intoxicating than alcohol ever could be. “You’re dangerously comfortable,” you warn him, drawn right against him like a magnet.

"I don't mind being called that." He laughs quietly, trying not to jostle you too badly as you snuggle against him and he settles into opening the new book. Hearing the spine creak open slightly and he wonders if you are like him and prefer hardback over paperback books. At least for gifts.

“All we need is a fire in the fireplace and we’re just about as picturesque as I can imagine.” It’s dangerous to turn your head to smile at him from this angle because it brings you within about two inches of his perfectly tantalizing lips, but you remind yourself to behave. This is just the first date. No need to rush.

“Not quite cold enough yet.” He can’t help but look down at your lips, imagining kissing you in front of a cozy fire after a night in. Or maybe coming home to relax after a night out.

“Soon.” The moment is so soft, and you watch his eyes drift down to your lips the same way yours did to his a second ago with a warm buzzing in your chest. Whether you mean the fire or the kiss should be soon is entirely up to him to decide.

“Should I start to read?” He asks quietly. Feeling the moment start to grow into something warmer, sweeter.

“Yeah—I—um…” Any hesitation on your part is strictly attraction based, and you move your head a safe distance from his lips so as not to get distracted. “Please.”

Marcus turns his eyes to focus on the book and not on you. “The birth of Simon Authur Henry Clyvedon Fitzranulph Basset, Earl Clyvedon was met with great celebration.” He keeps his voice low, intimate between the two of you as he was reading you a story before bed.

It’s simultaneously the most relaxing thing in the world and causing you to be completely on edge, the way Marcus’s rich voice seems to roll right through you as he begins to read. Every place that the two of you are touching seems to be on fire and you cannot decide if you want to jump him or take the world’s most luxurious ride on his narration alone.

He feels you stiffen in his arms and he wonders if you’ve change your mind. “Everything okay?” He asks, wanting to check in with you. He had anticipated you melting against him, but you seem on edge and if it’s something he’s doing, he wants to fix it.

“Of course.” There’s nothing wrong with how relaxed you feel right now, but you know you’ve been a little tensed against him. You had just been hoping that he wouldn’t notice. The fact that he looks at you incredulously says he definitely did. “I’m—” Flustering, you clear your throat as gently as you can manage and bite back a smile. “I’m a little distracted,” you admit, wondering how well complete honesty will go over with him.

“Cold?” Marcus asks. “There’s a blanket right over your other shoulder.” He hums. “Snuggle against me and curl under it. I meant it, make yourself comfortable.” He’s not sure if it’s the change from having your jacket and boots on that’s distracting you, but he doesn’t mind the idea of being under a blanket together.

Not entirely sure that snuggling more would distract you less,” you pull the blanket down anyway and do as he suggests. It brings the two of you even closer and you have to tamp down the coil tightening even further in your gut. Keep your shit together. You’re a grown ass woman! “There.” You smile, but looking up at him brings your eyes to his lips again and you don’t even realize as your tongue darts out to wet your own lips at the sight. “All better.”

His eyes drop down to your lips and he all but groans at the sight of them wet. “Good.” He croaks out, clearing his throat. “That’s good.” It’s hard to tear his gaze away from you, but he needs to so he doesn’t overstep.

“Mmhmm.” Nodding is like a reflex, and for all your determination you just can’t look away. “Very good…”

There’s a moment where Marcus wants to put the book down and give into the desire to kiss you. But that wouldn’t be what you had planned when you came over here and if something happens, he’s determined to let you lead. “So, uh, where was I?”

“I think—” But the thought isn’t there. You have no idea what the last thing he read was, despite how much you love the sound of his voice. Every sense has been taken over by the buzzing hum running through your body and the spark of his skin touching yours. “I don’t—” You could bluster. Or try to skim the page and guess. But your impulses are a hell of a lot stronger than your good sense tonight. “—I really want to kiss you—”

Marcus groans quietly and the book snaps shut with a definitive thump. “I really want you to kiss me too.” He admits. “You should go with your instincts.”

“Instincts are important,” you nod as wisely and seriously as possible even as you’re turning into his side. Those warm puffs of breath that have been ghosting over your skin make you shiver, and you just have an unshakable feeling that this is that start of something completely wonderful. “Oh yeah?” You hum, close enough to nudge his nose with yours.

“Yeah.” Marcus exhales roughly, feeling like he is about to vibrate out of his skin. Despite his complaint to his mom that it was too soon since Teresa, he feels that this is nearly perfect. You’re perfect and he’s painfully attracted to you.

It only takes the smallest movement to fit your lips against his, but the response that floods your body is monumental. It really should only have been a quick, light, gentle kind of first kiss — but he did say to go with your instincts. So instead your hand comes up to graze the line of his jaw when the blissful feeling of having him kiss you back makes you feel like you might vibrate out of place right there on the couch.

It’s innocent, really. The kiss doesn’t go much deeper than the exploration of each other in that first pressing of lips and yet he feels like his heart is about to explode out of his chest. The only reason you pull back is to check in with him. It really is. Because that simple little first kiss might be the best first kiss you’ve ever had. His smile is a little dreamy, almost goofy as his eyes flutter opened after closing on their own. Looking at you as if you had hung the moon after that kiss.

"You look how I feel," you tell him, grin splitting your face clean across as you tuck tightly into his side. That pure joy radiating from his smile is the same feeling filling up your chest right now.

“Like you could tap dance on air?” He asks with an answering grin of his own. Wanting to pull you close and kiss you again, but resisting.

"Maybe." Neither of you were expecting the giggle you share, but it makes you both smile that much harder and you shift slightly against him. "And...like I didn't want to stop..."

“That too.” The book falls to the floor as he shifts slightly. His eyes are darker now, the lust and desire making his amber eyes turn to onyx. “You don’t have to.”

The momentum sweeps both of you up in a way you didn’t expect at all. As soon as he agrees to wanting even a little more you feel like the whole world tilts on its axis. You shift in his arms to surge toward him, lips pressing against his in earnest and barely managing to swallow a moan when he pulls you in tighter. It has you throwing caution to the wind and taking advantage of the open-mouthed kiss to taste him with your tongue — and letting a second moan out when he tastes just as sweet as you thought.

His arms wrap around you, not wanting you to shift too far away as he drowns in the kiss. Letting the feeling of your tongue caressing his completely overrule any semblance of thought beyond you and making sure you are aware of how much he is enjoying kissing you.

Trying to get as close to each other as you possibly can, you turn one more time in his arms and shift forward without ever breaking the kiss. His arms hold you steady, following wherever you’re going next, and in a moment of impulsivity and bravery you swing one leg over his lap to straddle Marcus completely on the couch.

Groaning, he absorbs your weight easily and his hands slide down your sides to squeeze your hips. He’s not upset you’re in his lap, quite the opposite. It makes his kiss just a little more frantic, trying to devour you a bit more.

Marcus has big hands. You know that already. But feeling them on you is totally different. His grip is firm but gentle, sweeping up and down your sides, and you’re suddenly hyper aware that you chose a dress and leggings and that those things provide no barrier between his body and yours. You can feel damn near everything underneath you and that is a blessing as well making you hyper aware of the warmth radiating off of him in waves.

He pants against your lips and feels like he’s underwater. Knowing that he is starting to harden underneath you at the warmth of your body, your core pressed against him.

The only thing that could possibly reel you back in at this point is him — the very same thing that is driving you crazy. But before you start grinding against him or even so much unconsciously moving your hips, you need to make sure he’s okay with it. You’re both panting heavily when you press your forehead against his, and your hands grip his shoulders tightly for balance. “I can stop…” you promise him, knowing that reeling yourself in now will be easier than later. “If you don’t want—more—”

“No.” The word is more whimper and plea than command and he wouldn’t do that anyway. “I— I’m good. I want—” He shakes his head and leans in to press his lips to yours again.

He wants just like you do, if the growing bulge beneath you is any indication, and you are not the slightest bit upset about that in anyway. It isn't what you came here for – or why you went on this date in the first place – but fuck if it isn't feeling like the perfect way to cap off the night.

The subtle circling of your hips has his fingers digging into your thighs as the most delicious groan rips out of his throat. Unsure if he wants you to stop or to just grind on him until you’re panting his name, he slides his tongue down your jaw and to your neck to follow it up with tiny kisses.

"Fuck— Marcus." The iron grip you had on his shoulders has slacked only so you can run your hands down his chest, feeling his heartbeat hammer under your fingertips just as fast as your own as he dusts kisses along your neck and raises goosebumps in his wake.

“So sexy.” He murmurs into your skin. Scraping his teeth over your pulse and sucking lightly. Enjoying the tremor that runs through you and the way you press down against his cock as you moan. He’s hard and starting to ache now, twitching every time you move.

“Unbelievably hot.” The first time you deliberately tilt your hips and rock your core over him, you both moan and you melt against him with your fingers fumbling for his buttons. “C—can I?” You manage, even though you feel like your voice is shaking. “Want to touch you, baby. Please?”

Exhaling on a shudder, Marcus gulps in air greedily. "Whatever you want." He croaks out. "I— fuck," His eyes close and his head tilts back slightly, exposing his Adam's apple. "I want you, but this stops wherever you want it to." He's not the type of man to push beyond your comfort, but if you said you wanted him inside you, he'd already be asking about protection. Not feeling like this is some sort of rebound, it feels like the beginning of something wonderful.

“I don’t want it to stop,” you admit, pausing with your fingers already in the first button of his shirt to find his eyes. This is not your usual first date M.O. but there is something here. Something very real and new between you that has wrapped itself around both of you together.

“We don’t have to stop.” Marcus promises you breathlessly, biting back a groan of pleasure when your hand splays across his chest, touching his hot skin.

"Thank god." Your own moan is a soft and breathy thing as you lean back to watch the broad expanse of his chest come into view with every button you manage to wrench open.

He manages to chuckle, even though he wants to just pull you closer and rip your clothes open to touch you, but he just pulls you close.

It's so damn easy to sink into him. For both of you to let your hands wander and your kisses migrate across each other's skin. He's stronger even than he looks at first glance and that is very strong – to the point where you really wonder if he might be able to just lift you up and carry you off. And that is just about the sexiest thing you can think of.

Keeping his hands on top of your clothes is going to be a real fucking challenge. Especially now that you have stripped him of his dress shirt and his undershirt. Squeezing and caressing every inch of skin you are baring, even the back of your tender neck while he scatters kisses along your lips.

The way he grabs and bunches your dress in his hands but doesn't reach further makes you groan, wondering if he's hesitant or if he's just waiting for permission. It really only takes a few seconds to realize there is something hesitant about the way he is kissing you or palming your hips and breasts over your dress, so you take one of his hands and guide it under the hem of your dress in invitation.

Marcus moans when you guide his hand under your dress, giving him permission to touch you and it becomes his mission to touch every inch of your body. Both hands slide up and down your thighs in sweeping passes, over your panties and to your stomach.

"Fuck." His hands are burning hot, making you shiver counterintuitively and lean into every touch. At this rate you may leave a damp patch from grinding down on him, but you don't even care. The friction is too good to ease up on. The only way you're moving off is so Marcus can get his pants off.

"That's right, baby." He agrees, unable to stop twitching every time you grind against the hard bulge in his slacks. "Fuck is right." His thumb sweeps under your breast right before he slides up to cover it with his hand, right over the bra and squeeze possessively. "You want to take off your dress for me, sweetheart?"

It's not even worth wasting breath on a reply, you just tear your hands away from his chest to pull your dress up over your head. It gets tossed somewhere on the floor and instantly forgotten about as you pant for your breath back and watch Marcus's eyes drink you in.

He didn't know that he could look so many places at once. Your tits, mouthwatering and begging for his attention. Down to your pretty panties that he wants to rip off and bury his tongue inside you to hear you squeal his name. Back up to your face and he nearly growls as he rushes in to kiss you again.

The momentum nearly knocks you backward but Marcus's arms are there to hold you steady. If he has his way you'll be staying skin-to-skin for a whole lot longer tonight and you have absolutely no problem with that. Every time his cock twitches under you, you can't help but moan, and soon it's going to be just a litany of that sound over and over.

Deft, sure hands reach back to undo your bra, making the first move to strip clothing off of you. Pulling the straps down your arms and immediately reaching up to cup your breasts and fill his hands with them. As simple as it might be to get a simple piece of clothing off of you, your high-pitched whine says everything about how eager you are to be rid of every stitch. "You have the best hands," you moan when he pinches your nipples and rolls the tight buds between his fingers for the first time.

"You have the best tits." Marcus hums, almost chuckling as he watches your head drop down to your chest and then roll back. "Fuck, that's it," he groans when you circle your hips on his cock again.

"S—swear this isn't what I was expecting—" You manage to breathe out, trying to assure him that you never expected sex tonight. "But fuck, baby."

"Me either." He agrees, kissing your jaw and then down your chest. His hot mouth moving towards your breast until he's pulling your nipple into his mouth.

“Mar—Marcus.” The heat of his mouth makes you keen even as your head drops back and the fingers of one hand tangle in his short hair. At this point every time you grind your hips down it’s like you’re trying to reach his cock inside his pants, and you know he’s as hard as you are wet.

He huffs and blows his breath against your nipple as he lets go of it, smirking up at you before sucking it back into his mouth. Knowing that tonight is nowhere near what he had imagined it being like and yet he can't be mad at it. He's eager to feel more of you.

“Feels so damn good.” The contrast of hot and cool on your skin makes your eyelids flutter and you rock in his lap.

He moans in agreement, his tongue flicking over the stiff peak and he loves how it puffs up even more in his mouth. Pulling off only to attack your other breast with equal enthusiasm.

Every flick of his tongue sends another shiver down your spine and as much as you just want to ride it out and see if you can cum only from having your tits sucked on, you want him more. One hand stays threaded in his hair but the other reaches down between you, finding the thick bulge of his cock in his pants and squeezing experimentally to see what makes him moan.

Marcus’s breath is ragged, shuddered against your skin and he pulls away because he might bite down too hard if you do that too well. “Fuck, baby.” He groans when you squeeze him again.

"I—" You breathe, panting when he twitches in your hand and you can feel how thick he is. "I have a condom in my wallet." It had been just a nothing idea, to throw one in while you were getting ready. More of a joke to yourself about how you always seem to be so overprepared. But now? Thank god you did.

"Yeah?" He kisses up your neck again and his tongue slides against the sensitive skin behind your earlobe. "I have one too." He admits. He's always carried one, but not because he expected sex, but because it was surprisingly handy to have at times. "Do you want to use yours or mine?"

"Yours first, mine second." It might sound a little overconfident, but something in you tells you for certain that this isn't just a one-time thing. Besides that, Marcus's hazy, lust-filled grin at your comment is worthwhile.

"Good girl." He groans out, twitching against your core at the thought of multiple rounds after you've both caught your breath and recovered.

That makes you moan reflexively, and you don't even pretend to demure over the reaction. It's honest and it's real. Who doesn't want to be praised during sex?

"Oh you like that." He chuckles and leans in to kiss your lips again softly. "I'll keep that in mind." He will, he will take note of every damn think you like.

"Not even going to pretend I don't." You lean forward to nip at his neck in turn before stepping back from him with a groan. With two feet on the rug, you already hate the distance between you. But you'll take care of that as soon as you strip his pants away.

Marcus pouts slightly but he quickly unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants so he can lift his hips up so you can pull his pants down. Black boxer-briefs under black trousers is very adult of him, and you're far too focused on the thick length trapped under that last layer of fabric to tease him about boring underwear. Instead you toss him his wallet from the back pocket of his pants and slip off your tights while he fishes for the condom packet.

Catching his wallet, Marcus opens it and pulls the condom out and tosses it on the coffee table before he bites his lip. Looking at you before he lifts his hips again and pushes down his boxer briefs.

Broad shoulders and a thin waist give way to long legs, but your attention is focused on his dark eyes until you let your gaze drop to his lap. The head of his cock is bordering purple, dripping precum, and it gives a distinct twitch against his belly when he watches you watch him. The perfect moment of quiet before the storm that is about to take over, you crack a grin at Marcus and take a step forward. That cock is going to feel so fucking good inside you.

"I take it you approve?" He asks, smirking himself as he holds out his hand to you. "Now, I want you to take off your panties for me, sweetheart."

“Oh, these things?” With your thumbs hooked into either side of your panties, you grin a little wider before slipping them straight down your legs to pool at your feet. “Gone.”

"Fuck." He groans, cock jerking again at the sight of you completely bare in front of him. "You're so beautiful. I'm lucky to be able to touch you."

You hum, shaking your head and making a show of walking the three steps you need to need to be ready to crawl back into his lap. “I could say the same thing.”

He chuckles and rips open the condom to roll down his length. Biting his lip while he studiously applies the prophylactic, he looks back up at you with his hand wrapped around his covered cock. "Then touch me again and make me believe it." He teases.

Never having known a single man who didn’t like having his cock ridden, you fit one knee on the outside of each of his hips and sit yourself down directly over his core, replacing his hand with yours and wishing you had had the opportunity to suck his cock just a little before he applied the condom. Next time, you tell yourself, rocking over the tip of his length and watching his Adam’s Apple bob dramatically until you start to slide that length inside you an inch at a time.

His hands find your hips again. Not to rush you, but to hold you as you slowly start to engulf his cock. Moaning out your name when you get the first two inches inside your hot body and your walls squeeze him tight. "That— fuck, baby, you feel so good." He praises breathlessly. "How— is it good?" He can barely think straight, but he wants to make sure you are comfortable.

“Perfect.” Barely holding onto your last shred of control, you are determined to make sure you both latch on to the bliss of this moment before anything else. “Fucking perfect.”

Your fingers dig into his shoulders but the slight pain just adds to how good the way you sink down onto him feels. Groaning again as you keep taking him, wrapping him up in the heat of your body. "Good."

“Goddamn.” When he’s fully seated inside you, you pause long enough for both of you to catch your breath. “Tell me when I can move, baby.”

"Anytime you want to move." He moans, wanting you to move now, but he's not the one who is on top. "You set the pace, baby."

That in itself is enough encouragement, and you raise up on your knees right away to the musical harmony of a moan ripping out of each of you. “Fuck you feel so good,” you moan, barely keeping your eyes open as you set an even but energetic pace. It feels that good, but you want to be able to watch him.

Breathing out shakily, Marcus can't even speak. Too overcome by the pure pleasure that comes when you start to move. Rolling your hips and clenching down around him, you fit like you are perfectly molded around him. Eyes fluttering when you start to lift off his length, but then take him even deeper when you sink back down.

The sounds of sex are distinct – sloppy and wet and loud – as the two of you find a rhythm together. If you believed in Fate you’d say he felt like he was made for you, but as it is you really can barely form any thoughts at all. He fills you in a way you don’t think you’ve ever felt before and every perfect man goes straight to your clit as you ride him.

His fingers are still grazing your hip as his thumb presses against that little button that drives women crazy. Humming when he starts to work quick, small circles on top of it as you move. Wanting to match the rhythm for your pleasure. Your hands are everywhere, pulling in his hair and bracing on his shoulders, grazing down his chest and even reaching behind you to lean backward and get a slightly different angle and groaning loudly when it strikes you just right.

Letting you lead doesn’t mean that Marcus does nothing. His hips rock up every other thrust to make sure that you are impaled on his cock. Toes curling every time, he groans out your name again and again.

Curses and praises fall from your lips, punctuating the litany of moans with colorful encouragement and pleas. Every time he thrusts upward you feel like you’re going to have all of your insides rearranged, and it’s so fucking good you never want it to stop.

“Fuck. Baby.” Marcus leans forward and presses his forehead to your clavicle. “You’re taking me so well. Love it.” His mouth sometimes gets filthy when he’s lost in a moment and it’s no different today. “Pretty little pussy clamped down over my dick.”

Fucking hell. He even talks dirty. You keen in response, a moan so animated and turned the fuck on that you’re picking up the pace and pawing at your own tits in Marcus’s face. It’s beautiful to watch your tits bounce and your hands pluck at them, but he’s a hands on kind of guy and he lets go of your waist so he can lavish attention on them.

It’s an automatic switch. When his hands move to knead your tits and pluck at your nipples, you replace one of your own on his shoulder and let the other drift to your clit to run the same circles that he was just a second ago. You’re hurtling desperately close to cumming and you can’t wait to hear what dirty little praises he’s going to come out with when you clamp down on his cock even harder.

Marcus moans and groans with his nipple in your mouth. His eyes watching your fingers dance over your clit and he’s memorizing the fact that you enjoyed the way he had been touching you. His hips rocking up fast to punch up into you. Feeling you getting closer to your peak with ever gasped squeal you give him.

“So—fuck— so fucking close,” you manage between pants and moans as your body starts to lock down all at once and that coil in the base of your spine tightens beautifully like you were warning it and not just him. “Oh fuck, I’m cum—”

The second he feels you tense up, Marcus pops off your tit and his arms wind around you like steel bands. Holding you in place so he can take over. Thrusting up into you while you start to cum. “That’s it.” He hisses. “Cum for me. Soak me baby. Show me how good my cock feels.” He groans, the hard, sharp thrusts knocking his breath out but he fucks you through it, still babbling. “Like a vice, like a fucking vice. Come on baby, give me all of it.”

The filthy babbling almost breaks you, with the way that it shakes through you and makes you gasp at breaths even with how much you’re panting. Sparks flash white behind your eyes as Marcus’s hips start to stutter, and you’re vaguely aware of a stream of your own encouragements — or maybe just begging him to cum so you can see how gorgeously unwound he looks when he hits his peak. You can’t be sure which it is, or if it’s both, but either way his arms tighten around you that much more and he groans in your ear like sin incarnate.

"Fuck you're so good." Marcus breathes. "I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna fill your little pussy up." That's not going to happen because of the condom, but logistics don't exactly matter right this second. All that matters is that he's going to be buried inside you as he cums. "Fuck baby, fuck." He chokes out, giving one more thrust and grinding up into you as he whines your name into your ear. Spilling into the condom in hot waves of pleasure.

“Holy shit.” You’re the first to break into giggles, when you finally have your breath back. His arms were so tight around you at the end that you might feel a little bruised tomorrow but you can’t find it in yourself to care at all. That’s the best ride you’ve had in ages and it was only the first time.

Humming, Marcus leans in and nuzzles his nose against your neck. Panting to catch his breath. "Holy shit is right." He gives his own little giggle because he's feeling so loose and good.

“Let me know when I’m getting too heavy.” With your forehead pressed to his shoulder and the feeling very slowly returning to your extremities, you’re still not sure about moving immediately. “My legs aren’t working yet. You turned them into jelly.”

"You can stay right here as long as you want." He promises with a grin, his spent cock twitching inside you. He will have to hold to condom when he pulls out, but it's worth it. "Want me to read to you now while you recover?"

The awe and adoration in your expression when you pull back from him is unmistakable. He’s going to read to you post-coitus?! “You’re actually perfect,” you sputter out in disbelief, though you’re absolutely not saying no.

He chuckles and sends you a warm smile. "It's the least I can do," he teases, "since you did all the work." His hands slowly caress your spine and he’s enjoying the way you feel against him.

“And I’ll gladly do all the work again for round two if that’s the response I get.” Not even teasing, you nudge your nose against his and steal a kiss, savoring the taste of perspiration mixed with Marcus’s kiss.

He hums against your lips and slides his hand up to hold you in place to deepen the kiss. "Thank you." He murmurs when he pulls away. "For this. For making it easy to enjoy the best damn date I've had in a long time."

“No need to thank me.” There is so much softness in it that you melt a little bit more, nuzzling into him right there in his lap. “I’m gonna have a hell of a time trying to make sure our second date beats it.”

It makes him laugh, a giddy, carefree sound and he sigh happily. "We should just keep it going then." He decides. "That way we don't have to think of ideas to top this."

You could float away on the sound of his laugh, just reveling in this joyful energy. All the same, you pull back again and find his eyes carefully. “You asking me to stay the night, handsome?”

"What kind of date would I be if I sent you home when your legs are Jello?" He asks playfully, leaning in and nudging your nose with his. "Especially since it's my fault."

“Fault. Generous gift. Same thing.” You both grin, indulging in more kisses until you’re sighing into him all over again. “In that case, I think we should go upstairs,” you murmur. “Read in bed until we either want to go again or fall asleep.”

"Do you want some water?" He asks softly, knowing you might be thirsty after all that work. "I can get you some before we go up?"

“Perfect gentleman.” You hum softly, knowing you need to climb out of his lap but wanting one more kiss first. “Water would be amazing.”

He gives you another lingering kiss, smiling against your lips when you start to pout as you lift off of him. He slides his hand between you to hold the base of his cock, keeping the condom from moving. "Good. My room is the last door on the left." He tells you. "I'll be up in just a second, as soon as I get rid of the condom and get some water."

"Okay." Even though you pause to gather up your stuff, you don't bother getting dressed. Sauntering upstairs naked has an air of comfort and unexpected sexiness to it that you can't deny, but you do stop off in the bathroom to do the extremely unsexy task of cleaning up and having a quick pee. By the time you get out, you barely have a second to slip under the covers before Marcus appears in the doorway.

"Bottle of water, like the lady ordered." Marcus put away the cheeseboard and wine, gathering up his own clothes before coming upstairs. He wants to make sure you are comfortable. Grinning, he walks over in his boxers to hand you the water. "Need anything else, sweetheart?"

"A little company, that's all." Did he manage to get more attractive in the less than five minutes you were apart? That's wholly unfair.

"Company I can definitely provide." He smirks slightly as he walks around the bed to climb in beside you. "Comfortable? Need another pillow?"

"Not gonna lie." As he slides in next to you, you move toward him like a magnet. "I was kind of hoping for a human pillow."

"That's my favorite type of pillow to be." His arms open up to let you settle against him. "Especially when I'm going to read to you."

"Absolutely perfect," you murmur happily, laying your head down on his chest as he picks up the book. Tonight really was, without a doubt, the best date you've ever had. You're going to have to do a hell of a job hosting the next book club meeting as a thank you.

He picks up reading again, basically just starting over. Keeping his voice low and the only light is from the lamp on his bedside table. Letting the atmosphere stay intimate. It might be the first date, but it was going to hopefully the last first date he has.

______

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wonder-kid-pugh · 9 months

Text

The Beautiful Game and Books - Alessia Russo x reader

Hey guys! So I had this idea for a fic which I really liked. But as I was writing it I realized how long it was and saw that I could make it into a 2 parter. And when I put it to a vote you said to post the first part so here it is!!!!! This is my own little take on a jock x Nerd fic so I hope you enjoy! I am working on the second part but I am swamped at the moment but I will post it as soon as possible. But for now I hope you like this!

You let out a sigh as you entered the familiar house hoping it wouldn't be long. Your evening was busy with plans of laying in bed rewatching either The Vampire Diaries or Harry Potter, whatever you were in the mood for honestly.

But your plans to rush home had been interrupted when your mother had texted you to make a detour.

The Russo residence was a place you frequented often. What with your mother being best friends with Carol you were over to their house often whether it was just for regular catch-ups or for weekly dinners. It also wasn't lost on you that with their daughter being the same age as you and going to the same school that your parents had hoped you and Alessia would become best friends just like them.

Probably to give them more excuses to hang out.

But unfortunately for your mothers, their plan didn't work. You and the youngest Russo just didn't click really. Maybe it was just that your personalities didn't work. You were always quiet and very timid and enjoyed reading and kept to yourself. While Alessia was always the friendly outgoing loveable girl who was always outside playing football.

Don't get it wrong, you didn't hate each other. You were civil with each other when at each other's houses and when the two families were together. But your conversations didn't go much past how you were finding classes you shared or some stupid school gossip.

Honestly you probably got on better with her brothers than you did with her.

You were so familiar with the house that you entered without knocking and called out, "Mum?" You couldn't help but roll your eyes at the small joke of 'which one' your mother and her best friend shared as you walked into the kitchen where they were.

"Might as well be talking to Carol. At least she wouldn't forget to pick me up from school and leave me abandoned" you tease as Carol chuckles as she gives you a side hug just to tease your mother further.

But your mother takes it in stride as she rolls her eyes with a scoff. "It was one time. You would swear I'm neglecting you. I just got the days mixed up".

Which you fully understood you knew that you were usually busy studying in the library after school most days but after the library had closed for some small renovations for the week it meant you got to go home after school. Something your mother had forgotten and you were ready to walk home when Carol who was already picking up Alessia offered you a lift.

But that doesn't mean you couldn't tease your mother for it.

"Your only child. Left forgotten and abandoned at the school gates. About to walk the dangerous streets alone home if it wasn't for Carol" you sigh dramatically as you lean into the Russo woman who laughed at your dramatics.

"Maybe Carol can look after you then" Your mother quipped back as she sipped her tea.

But Carol quickly interjects with a shake of the head. "Oh I don't think so I think 3 is enough for me. Besides" she starts with a grin, "she's definitely your daughter. She's almost as dramatic as you".

"Hey!" You and your mother call out in unison. "I am not dramatic/ Almost?" You and your mother glare at each other before it's turned on the Russo as the two of you hear her giggle at you both.

"So how has school been?" Carol asks trying to quickly move on with the conversation.

You just shrug, "Eh. Fine. Nothing new. Learned some stuff, corrected a few teachers and helped a few people after school. The usual".

The best friends shared a look of amusement over their cups of tea. Honestly where your studious nature and love of books came from was lost on your mother. It definitely wasn't from her and your father wasn't exactly the brightest either. But you had always been academically gifted even going so far as to point out corrections to teachers in school.

A small part of her thought it was because of your father leaving when you were younger but that wasn't something either of you talked about.

Your teachers had gone to your mother a few times saying you would be better off looking into schools with a bit more challenging course work for you or at the very least maybe skipping a year or maybe two. But you were perfectly content where you were.

You and your mother against the world.

"So the call I got from the school earlier then?" Your mother prodded, "About Mr Wickerman?"

But you just shrug nonchalantly, "Personally I don't know what his problem is".

Your mother raised an eyebrow at you, "Well do you want to give me a heads up on the 'inappropriate writing assignment' you handed in so I'm not blindsided when I have to meet with him tomorrow?"

You held up your hands, "Hey I hit the brief!" You sighed as you were fixed with a look by both women. "The assignment was to write a short story about a secret gradually coming out" you explained to which they both nodded prompting you to continue. You ran a hand through your hair, "So I wrote about a girl's parents finding out she was dating someone. Only when they are finally introduced, they meet her girlfriend rather than her boyfriend". You shrug, "If anything I hit the brief twice. It was a secret gradually coming out AND an actual coming out! Not my fault Mr Wickerman is a homophobic prick".

Your mother gives you a stern glare before you relient a bit like a small child being scolded, "Sorry". For such a quiet and intelligent girl, your mother was forever scolding you for your language.

She always told you had a mouth like a sailor.

Your mother sighed before giving you a reassuring smile letting you know you weren't in trouble, "I'll sort it out".

And while you knew you were in the right you couldn't help but feel guilty in that instant. Knowing that your mother already had enough to worry about without having to defend your actions to the school.

Even if it was against homophobic asshole who should just retire already.

But like always it's as if your mother can read your mind as she reaches over and squeezes your hand with a soft look in her eye. "I've never liked him anyways" she jokes, making you let out a laugh.

"So now that I'm not in trouble…does that mean I can go home? I have plans" you try but your mother just scoffs.

"And plans you mean to sit in your room and watch Netflix" she says looking at you knowingly.

But you just smile at her, "You just know me so well". "Does that mean I can go?" You try again angling yourself towards the door when your mother stops you again.

"Actually no. There's something we need to talk to you about…"

That gets your attention as your eyes flicker to the Russo woman before landing back on your mother, "We? What's going on?"

But your question is interrupted by the front door opening once more and another call of "Mum I'm home" breaches your ears. It isn't long after the youngest Russo makes an appearance quickly moving to her mother and greeting her with a kiss on the kiss and then greeting your mother with a smile.

You just about barely got a nod of recognition.

Not that you really cared.

"Hey Honey how was training?" Carol asked as Alessia was already moving towards the stairs.

"Good" she answered simply before throwing a thumb over her shoulder, "I'm going to have a shower. I'm meeting some of the girls in town".

But just like you she was quickly stopped by her mother. "Actually Alessia we need to have a quick chat first".

She paused her movements but did as her mother told her. She briefly looked at you as if silently asking if you knew but you just gave her a shrug. Letting her know you were both clueless about whatever this is.

Carol's voice dropped slightly as she fixed her eyes on the brunette. "Less, the school have been on to us about your grades".

That was all Alessia needed to know what this was about. However, you could tell by how her eyes quickly glanced at you that she didn't feel fully comfortable talking about it in front of you. But that didn't stop her from pleading her case.

"I know Mum" she said quickly probably not wanting her to say anything else in front of me. "It's just with football it's hard to keep up all the time".

Carol quickly nodded and it was one of the things you loved about her, she didn't show any signs of anger only understanding. "We know Less. And we are so proud of you and we know how hard you work". "And even though we know how hard you work doesn't mean you don't need a hand" she says soothingly.

Once again her eyes flickered at you, "Mum can we please talk about this later?"

But she stood firm, "Less we decided that you need a tutor if you're going to keep up with both school and football".

You could tell she was displeased with the idea immediately. "Mummmm" she groaned and you had to withhold the scoff as you swore you could almost hear the childish footstomp to go with her tantrum.

"Alessia we only want what's best for you. In football and in school" Carol said firmly letting her know she wasn't budging on this.

She's quiet for a few second before sighing, "Fine. I'll find one later".

But it seems it was your mother's turn now. "Actually we already have one in mind" your mother said as she turned to you.

You could feel your eyes widen as they all turn to you. "Me?" You asked pointing to yourself.

"Your top of your class and don't think I don't know that Luca and Giorgio go to you when they need help with homework" Carol says as you blush.

"Not really…" you try but from the look of the two older women their minds were already made up.

"How about the two of you go upstairs and get started?" Carol said looking at the both of you. When you looked to your mum you knew she wouldn't save you.

"But mum!" Alessia whined once more but Carol was having none of it.

"Alessia don't be rude" she scolds as she nods towards you who awkwardly stood there as Alessia eyed you up.

Albeit grudgingly, Alessia sighed and nodded, "Fine". She then turned and quickly went up the stairs making sure to make her footsteps thump that little bit harder to let everyone know of her displeasure.

You gave them a tight lipped smile as you turned and followed her. Already dreading this. Like you siad you had nothing against Alessia but you knew if it wasn't for Carol you definitely wouldn't be helping her right now. Especially as it wasn't like you wanted to do this either.

You last about 45 minutes before you made the excuse of going home to plan future sessions which Alessia is only too happy to accept. You couldn't take the awkward looks and the weird tension. And it was clearly mutual as Alessia just busied herself on her phone instead of trying to actually talk to you apart from short answers anytime you tried to make conversation.

But you knew there would be no getting out of this. The Russo's were practically family after all. So when your mother asked how did it go on the drive home. Of course you gave her a fake smile and a nod saying it went well.

You made sure your mother seemed happy with your answer before you leaned your head up against the window and prayed that tomorrow with Alessia would be a bit better.

Who knows maybe you'll actually end up friends by the end of this?

~~~

Yeah you can forget about you and Alessia being friends.

Your day went about normally. You kept your head down and carried on with your classes as you usually do. Talking to the few people you usually talk to. You wouldn't classify them as friends, you didn't know them well enough for that.

It was more people you sat beside in some classes. They were the kind of people you would give a nod to in the hallway as well as just casual conversation in classes. Just so you wouldn't have to sit in that awkward silence.

The closest thing you would say you would have to a friend would be Ben. You sat beside each other in English and were both a bit of loners. And you bonded over the fact that you both hated Me Wickerman. As well as the fact that you both had the same teasing sense of humour. But again you wouldn't really talk outside of school apart from the odd time.

It was the end of the day and everyone was rushing out of class to their lockers to try and grab their things and run home. You walked out of English with Ben as you teased him how you scored higher than him (like always) when you spotted Alessia talking with her friends.

You waved goodbye to the boy as you ducked your way through the crowd. You had agreed yesterday that you would meet with Alessia to study but you hadn't said where so you decided you better catch her before she goes home as well as probably get her phone number so stuff like this can be avoided.

You didn't think it would be a good idea to get her number from her brother's. As they were still looking for revenge for the prank you pulled on both of them.

Let's just say they learned never to ask you to put in a good word for them with their crushes again.

But it was times like these that reminded you that Alessia probably forgot you went to the same school. Because she probably would have been more careful about being overheard if she did.

You had been walking up to her little group of friends when you could overhear their conversation. "Cmon Less everyone's going!"

You slowed down not wanting to interrupt their conversation. But you couldn't help but overhear them.

But the brunette just sigh as she rumaged through her locker, "I can't I have plans".

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at her disinterest. It wasn't like this was your first choice either. You didn't exactly get a choice in this either.

Her friends just groan, "But everyone is going! You have to come. Just come!"

While you can't see most of their faces, you could already tell they were slowly trying to convince Alessia. Not wanting their ringleader to miss out. But you weren't worried. This is Alessia. You knew you weren't the closest but you knew her. There was no way she would just blow you off like that…

"Yeah…maybe" Alessia started but you could see her resolve crumble as she looks at her friends. "Fine" she sighs, "I'll sort something out".

You honestly couldn't believe it. You knew you didn't know the football player well but you've known each other since you were babies. And Alessia was always the nice friendly girl. You honestly couldn't believe what you were hearing.

You couldn't stop the loud scoff from slipping out. But it must have been louder than you thought as it seems to catch the brunette's attention.

A tiny part of you enjoys how her eyes widen and an obvious blush tints her face at the fact she's been caught. But you just hardened your glare as your crossed your arms ignoring all the curious looks you received from her friends.

"You know I don't exactly want to do this either. But I thought you would at least have the common decency to at least not blow me off when your the one that needs help" you snipe. But you can tell but the way that Alessia couldn't look you in the eyes that you wouldn't be getting an answer you liked. "Whatever" you scoff before turning away to walk home.

Thankfully it was one of the days you were walking home so you didn't have to deal with your mother investigating your foul mood as she had work. And how you clocked Carol's car before she spotted you and you steered clear of the car. The last thing you wanted right now was to be in the same car as the brunette.

You were fuming the entire way home once again thankful that no one was home and you already had all your homework for tomorrow done. As the second you got home you slammed the door behind you, rush up the stairs taking 2 at a time and flopped into bed hoping that Harry Potter would help forgot the foul mood the football player had put you in.

~~~

You sighed as you heard a knock on the door. You leaned your head against your propped up fist not even turning to the door, "Mum I'll be done in a minute I just need to finish this up".

"Yeah not your mum…"

You looked over your shoulder unimpressed as you see Alessia standing nervously by your door. But don't say anything as you instead turn back to your work. "What are you doing here Russo?"

"I uh tried to find you after school but that guy you hang out with uh Ben? He said you left early" Alessia reveals.

You can hear her sigh as she moves behind you. "Look I know your upset with me. And you have every right to be". You heard her sigh as you pause your work again as you look at her over your shoulder letting her know you were listening.

"You were right" she sighed as she played with her hands. "It's not exactly like you wanted to help me either and I should be grateful that you're even willing to help me". Her cheeks darken with a blush as she pursues her lips, "That is if you still want to help me that is".

But that seems to do it for you as you scoff and drop your pen finally turning back to you. "What? Finally realise that you actually need my help?" You scoff as you shake your head, "I don't know why I expected any different".

"It's not like that" Alessia tries but you don't let her off lightly.

"Oh give me a break Russo" you spit out harshly. "Your only here cause you need something. Because no matter how sweet and kind you maybe seem everyone is the same. Everyone's looking for something and I've already been burned before and I rather not go through that again".

Your just about able to bite your tongue and you silently fume thinking back on that time. But you shake your head once again scoffing at the Football player, "You haven't even said your sorry".

"You're right" Alessia said after a small pause. "I'm sorry" she said, "I'm really sorry". There's another brief silence before Alessia asks, "Why didn't you tell my mum?"

While you were able to dodge her yesterday successfully, it didn't work today as she had caught me when she came around to drop something off to mum. She had asked how it was going with Alessia and I didn't have the heart to tell her what happened.

She only wanted what was best for her daughter.

"Because she's like a second mum to me and I didn't have the heart to tell her" you tell her honestly. "She adores you Alessia. I didn't have it in me to tell her that the apple of her eye decided to ditch me last minute".

"Thank you" she said shyly but you could tell she was genuinely grateful for you not snitching on her.

You nod before you were interrupted by your mother shouting up to you that dinner was ready. Alessia didn't even have a chance to escape as your mother already had a plate ready for her.

Dinner was another awkward affair but thankfully most of the heat was off you as your mother focused on Alessia asking about what she's been up to and how the studying has been going. Afterwards you were both excused to go back upstairs to study.

You both awkwardly sit in your room once more neither of you knowing what to say. Until it was Alessia who once again broke it.

"You said before" she starts cautiously, "that you already got burned once before". She eyed you carefully, "What did you mean by that?"

Your eyes close for a second as you really regret letting that slip out. But you knew you had no other option really. "I think it's obviously I'm not the most popular in school" you said jokingly trying to ease yourself into it. "So you can imagine my surprise when one of the guys on the soccer team started talking to me".

It took everything in Alessia not to correct you but she knew she was already on thin ice. That and it seemed that it wasn't exactly the time to joke about something so small.

You played with your fingers as you shrugged, "It was nice. And I let myself believe he was actually interested in me. When it turns out he was just interested in the fact that I could do his homework for him".

You couldn't stand the pitiful look the Brunette sent you. "Like I said Alessia. Everyone wants something". You shrug emotionlessly, "Probably should have suspected something earlier. I mean who would be interested in me right?"

There's a second silence which made you think Alessia was about to agree with you. But then you heard shuffling and you looked up to see her standing from your desk chair moving to sit on the bed beside you.

"I'm sorry" she started gentle as the two of you sat shoulder to shoulder on your bed. "I'm sorry you had to go through that. That he was too much of a jackass to see how amazing you are. And I'm really sorry that I was a right idiot as well. You didn't deserve any of that".

You just accepted the apology with a smile as you looked down at your clasped hands together.

You couldn't help but let out a tiny snort, "Don't you find this funny?" You grin as Alessia tilts her head at you. "I mean we've known each other since babies but I'd say we know hardly anything about each other other than the obvious".

Alessia thinks for a second before humming as she realizes how right you were. Beyond the basics, she couldn't think of a single thing she could say about you.

Which was highly concerning seeing as like you said you have literally known each other since you were born.

"How about we change that so?" Alessia asked as it was now her turn to grin as you turned to her confused. But she simply held out her hand for a handshake. "Hi, I'm Alessia Russo. But my friends call me Less".

You couldn't stop the grin blooming on your face at how stupid this whole interaction was. But that didn't stop you from shaking her hand. "It's very nice to meet you Alessia".

Alessia gives you a wide grin one that you've only seen when she's around her family or playing football. "I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship".

~~~

Honestly you could tell why Alessia was failing.

"Less! C'mon you need to focus!" You groaned as you can see her start to doodle on her page.

This was your second study session with the football player and you were already losing hope. It didn't take much for the Russo to lose focus. It didn't help that for the past half an hour her brothers kept coming in for the dumbest excuses. It seems that they heard about your struggles to help tutor their sister and used it to their advantage to exact revenge.

Any other time you would have found their distractions hilarious but not right now when you're failing to help Alessia.

"I'm sorry" Alessia sighed as she dropped the pen. She ran her hands through her hair in frustration and you couldn't help but feel bad, "I just can't seem to get this".

You take a deep breath as you slowly let yourself calm down. "I know I'm sorry. I'm sorry".

Alessia pouted as she stared at the book. "I don't know how you understand all this. I can't even keep focus long enough to actually get through it".

You roll your eyes as you lean against your fist. "I'm starting to think that the only time you're really focused is…" but you trail off as your eyes land on a random football in the corner of her room.

Alessia looks at you as you fall silent. But she jolts when you suddenly pop up from your seat. "What's wrong?"

But you don't answer as you grab both the football and the textbook in front of the brunette and stand up. "New plan. Get up c'mon". Alessia eager to get away from all her failed attempts at notes, gets up and follows you.

Her brother's both give you strange looks but you just wave them off as you lead her to their back garden.

"Here. Catch" you said as you throw Alessia the ball.

She just about catches it as she starts to mess with the ball in her hands. "Okay? So what now?"

You shake your hand at her as you try to explain it to her. "Can you do that thing? Where you mess with the ball? Just like kick it around?"

Alessia just scrunches her face as she tilts her head. "You mean juggling? Like juggle the ball?"

To be honest you're not even listening to her really as you flick to the page you left off at. "Yeah sure that". You look up as Alessia to see her giving you a strange look but eventually just starts playing with the ball.

You give her a minute or two to just mess about with the ball before you focus on the page in front of you. "You have to study the formation of a waterfall right?" You ask as you look down at the page. Alessia just hums but that's enough to show she's listening.

You smile as you start to read out of the textbook. Your smile widens when Alessia without looking up from the ball asks you to repeat the last part which proves to you she's listening.

You do as she says as you continue to read. Occasionally stopping in order to reread a section or to answer a question Alessia has.

When you finally finish the section you put the textbook aside as you stick your leg out and poke the ball away from Alessia who looks up at you with a pout. You couldn't help but chuckle as you pick up the ball. "Okay then. Tell me how a waterfall forms".

But her shoulders drop as she sighs with her hands on her hips. "You already know I can't".

But you just shrug with a smile throwing her the ball, "Humour me".

Alessia frowns at you but then slowly starts to explain as she repeats back what you just read to her. You can't prevent the smile spreading across your face as you almost dance on the spot. "Less! That's right!"

Her head snaps up at you, "Wait seriously?"

You clap your hands together with a nod, "Yes! That was practically perfect. Like it was right out of the book".

Alessia blushes at the small praise as she smiles, "I don't know how I did that". She scratches the back of her head, "I guess I just understood it better when you explained it to me".

You smile and nod, "You're an auditory learner".

She scrunches her face at you as she tilts her head obviously confused. "What?"

You can't help but giggle at her finding it a bit adorable at how clueless she was. "You learn better when someone is reading or explaining it to you rather than when you read it" you explained.

Alessia nods before throwing you back the ball. "Then what was the whole point of the ball?"

You shrug as your throw the ball between your hands. "You were too worked up. I thought messing around with the ball would help you relax a bit. Seems I was right".

Alessia smiles and can't help but squeal as she hugs you, "You are an actual genius! Thank you!"

You're shocked but you slowly hug her back. You let her hug you for a bit longer before you pat her back, "I try. Now c'mon we've got more studying to do".

Alessia groans but quickly shuts up when she narrowly dodges the ball you throw at her head.

~~~

"You do know we could just reschedule this right?" You said as Alessia makes sure she has everything she needs.

But Alessia just shakes her head as she tosses her gearbag into the boot, "I can't". She shuts the boot as she sighs and you can see it in her eyes how stressed she is, "We have that test coming up and I can't afford to fail".

You couldn't help but soften at the sight of her. You could see how worked up Less was about this test. She knew she was good at football and that is what she wanted to do. But she also knew that scouts would look at more than just her football ability but would also look at her academic ability.

But more importantly she didn't want to let her family down.

……or you

"Less" you say softly as you grab one of her hands. "You've been working so hard lately. We can all see it. You have been doing so good and I just know you're going to pass that test".

You're happy to see the small uptick in Alessia's lips as her eyes shine a little brighter. "You really think so?"

You don't know why but a small part of you feels warm at the fact that she seeks your approval. That your opinion really means that much to her. "Of course I do" you say gently, letting your genuinity shine through truly wanting her to know how much you really mean it.

You grin as you bump your shoulder against hers not wanting her to be nervous on the way to her match. "Do you seriously think I would be joining you and your dad on an hour's drive to watch a soccer match if I didn't have full faith in you?" You scoff in mock disbelief, "How dare you!"

Alessia laughs as she nudges you back as you lean back against the car.

You couldn't explain it. It was just something about the way she smiled and laughed made your chest feel lighter. It just made you want to keep her smiling and laughing always.

If you were being really honest, you wanted to be the reason she was smiling and laughing.

"And it's football not soccer weirdo" Alessia corrects you.

Honestly you didn't really care whatever you called it. You just liked to rile the poor girl up for your own amusement. "Oh so when my mother calls it soccer you have no problem. But when I do it, it's suddenly wrong".

But Alessia just tsks and shakes her head sagely, "That's because she's American. You on the other hand have lived here your entire life and should know better".

You roll your eyes and click your tongue at her, making her laugh. You open your mouth to argue but you're interrupted by her dad coming out to the car saying you better set off now if she doesn't want to be late. The two of you climb into the back seats getting your books out to study on the drive to the game.

Her dad tried to make small talk with you, probably not used to the quiet in the car. But it's surprisingly Alessia who shushes him.

You and Mario lock eyes in the mirror before you look over at her amused as she is fully concentrated on her (your) notes. As predicted she only lasted another 20 minutes before she begins to whine and beg you to read them out to her. Claiming as always it's easier when you read them to her.

You raise an eyebrow at her but the second she pouts at you, you crumble holding out your hand to take the notes. To which she passes them to you, a bit too happy in your opinion.

You start to read as Alessia leans up against you so she can follow along on the page while also looking at the different diagrams and graphs. Honestly you had become so use to her lying her head on your shoulder but you still had to school your face every time you could feel her breath brush against your neck.

The first few times it had happened you had thought you had actually bored her to death and she had fallen asleep. But with the occasional question or asking you to explain something to her, it was enough to know she was still following along.

It was almost funny how well the two of you worked together. It was almost as if you worked off each other. It was all the small things. How Alessia would turn the page for you (although you had a feeling that was also because she didn't want to compromise her comfy position). Or how when strand of hair fell in her face you would gently brush them behind her ear. Small little actions done without even having to communicate with each other.

Or how you knew when Alessia had a problem with a certain part as she would bring over your favorite treats as a silent apology for all the questions and help she was about to ask you for.

Or how Alessia would wordlessly take some books to carry for you cause you are the biggest bookworm she knew and didn't know how you carried all these books as she even struggled to take all of them.

It was all those small little actions which had not gone unnoticed by your mother's.

But that's entirely whole other problem.

Sooner than you think Mario lets you know you're about 5 minutes away. So you decide that enough has been done as you put the notes aside. Alessia tries to object but you just shush her as you tell her she should take a break and relax before she has to get ready for the game.

She lifts her head to pout at you but let out a sigh as she drops her head right back into the burrow of your neck. The car is silent for the rest of the drive as you allow her to get focused on the game. Even you take the few minutes to rest your head back and close your eyes. Not even opening them when you feel Alessia start to play with the rings on your fingers.

But you don't say anything as you just smile and close your eyes once more. A few minutes later you can feel the car roll to a stop as Alessia squeezed your hand thinking you might have dozed off.

The two of you stretch feeling slightly stiff from being stuck in the back seats for a while. But as Alessia takes off her seatbelt, you gently touch her arm stopping her from getting out.

"Good luck" you smile at her as you squeeze her arm, "you're going to smash it".

Alessia doesn't say anything but judging by the megawatt smile spreading across her face she appreciated the encouragement. With one small squeeze on your hand in thanks, she gets out of the car and grabs her gear before running over to some of her teammates.

You couldn't help but follow her as you watch as she joins over to some of her teammates before they rush off to the dressing rooms.

The car is quiet for a second before Mario snorts out a laugh. You look at him quizzically as he looks back at you in the mirror amused. "You haven't a clue about football do you?" He asks, grinning at you. You shake your head but you couldn't help but smile.

"Not a clue".

Mario laughs as he shakes his head as he nods his head, "Alright then. C'mon let's go find seats".

And after 90 minutes you still hadn't a clue. Honestly you didn't see the appeal. Chasing a ball around for 90 minutes. But that didn't mean you didn't find ways to entertain yourself. For one you found it highly amusing how worked up Mario got over the game as he acted as if it was the be all and end all.

And what also surprised you was how sassy Alessia got when playing. You spotted the sweet polite girl often talking back to the referee and making (what you could only guess) snippy comments to the other teams players.

But you did find it sweet how when she scores, she looked up to find her dad. Although you were probably easy to find due to Mario's loud cheering.

Honestly it was kind of refreshing to see the girl smiling. With the amount of studying the two of you had been doing and how much she was stressing over her upcoming test, it had been a while since you had seen her properly smile or look so relaxed.

But honestly it was worth standing out in the cold for the better part of 2 hours as when Alessia came over to us and Mario made a whole song and dance over her.

"Dad!" Alessia groaned as Mario cheered and swept her into a massive hug gaining looks from everyone around. "Dad, stop it!" Alessia whined as her face burns red. Her eyes narrowing when she sees you giggling at her embarrassment.

"Nothing wrong with showing everyone how proud I am of you" he says sternly but you can tell he's enjoying messing with her.

You take that as your chance to join in on the ribbing, "Yeah superstar. I mean you did score the winning goal after all". It seems that Alessia's mood considerably brightens at the reminder.

Mario laughs, "Yeah I don't think I have ever seen this one so excited. Much less over football".

You shrug, "Still don't see the appeal of Football".

But obviously that was the wrong thing to say as Alessia took that as an opportunity to try and explain to you every reason why football was appealing.

Even as you climb back into the car, Alessia continues on why football is the greatest sport alive as you nod along. Until you're completely drained and now the roles are reversed as you rest your head against hers. Alessia pausing her rant to let you settle softly against her.

She still continues on but in a softer tone until she sees you drift off. She feels your head start to slip off her shoulder as she wraps an arm around you and pulls you against her.

She practically holds her breath as you shift in your sleep. Her face darkens crimson when she realised your face is buried in her neck as your breath hitting her neck sends shivers down her spine. She tries to shift back a bit but realises she can't when she sees that you have her shirt balled up in your hands leaving her no chance to snuggle back up with you.

When Mario looks back, he smiles softly as he sees the two of you sound asleep in each other's arms peacefully leaning into each other for comfort.

~~~

Your eyes widen and you blink at the girl who shakes her head ag your reaction. "Sorry. Say that again? Because I definitely must have miss heard you". You shake your own head as you with out a small chuckle, "Cause I could have sworn you said you were going to teach me football".

It was a usually weekend dinner with the two families. But with the weather being unusually nice they had decided to move if outside to take advantage of the rare sunny day. So while both of your mother gossiped about God knows what and Gio and Luca helped Mario with a barbeque, Alessia had decided to drag you out to the garden.

Although you weren't expecting this.

But the footballer just smiled amusedly at you as she grinned at you, "No you heard right. That's exactly what I said".

You raise your eyebrows at her but you continue smiling at her, "You are insane".

"C'mon!" Alessia groans as she throws the ball between her hands. "You help me study for classes. I think it's my turn to teach you something".

You pouted and stomped your foot with a whine a bit like a petulant child but you didn't really care. Even though you rolled your eyes when you saw Alessia giggle at your antics. "But that's different! I'm helping you study for your education! That's important!"

Alessia pouted now tilting her head at you, "Football is important too".

You fixed her with a look, "Too you! Football isn't important to me!" You clarified knowing she had a point. Her whole life practically revolves around the sport.

But Alessia ignores your entire argument and instead grins smugly at you, "You called it Football".

You let out a loud groan that I'm sure your mothers could hear from their seats across the garden. "Really? That's all you got from that?"

But she doesn't say anything, only shrugs her shoulders with a grin. She drops the ball and starts juggling it with ease. "See look, it's not that hard!" She kicks it higher and catches it, "You're always saying I'm too clumsy. So if I can do it then so can you".

I raise an eyebrow at her, "First of all I stand by that statement. You are the clumiest person I've ever met. But at least on a soccer field you know what you're doing. I haven't an athletic bone in my body!"

Alessia grins widely, "Well that's about to change cause we're doing it!"

You groan but Alessia takes no notice as she kicks you the ball to which you squeal and slap the ball away. Alessia gives you a very unimpressed look as you just shrug at her as if to say 'what?' Before she rolls her eyes and goes to get the ball.

For the next hour and a half the two of you became the entertainment for both your families as they watched Alessia fail to teach you football.

"No no no you're meant to pass with the inside of your foot!"

"Hit it with the laces"

"You have to have power behind the pass or else it won't make it that far….imagine it's Mr Wickerman…NOT THAT HARD!"

Eventually you flopped onto the ground as you fail to get the ball off the Russo and she gives you a particularly hard shoulder that sends you to the ground.

"Okay I think I'm done" you say as you curl up on the grass. "Just leave me here to die peacefully".

Alessia just rolls her eyes at your dramatics, "It wasn't that bad".

You barely lift your head to look at her before dropping it back down with a thump, "Oh yes it was".

Oh course it was then her brother's decided to join you as Luca messes with your hair and Giorgio sits on your stomach as you let out a grunt before pushing him off you. "No she's right, that was painful to watch".

"She wasn't that bad" Alessia tries although very weakly. It was obvious that anything athletic wasn't your strong suit.

"Up for a 2v2 then?" Luca suggest as he tosses the ball in his hands. "Gio and I versus you two?"

"But those teams aren't fair!" Alessia argues immediately to which you lift your head in offense.

"You said I wasn't that bad!"

She sends you a sorry smile, "Yeah I lied". You scoff but wave her off letting her know you were only messing. You were genuinely terrible. And you didn't know how Alessia lasted so long with you.

It wasn't long after that you were all called for dinner as you ate together. Although it seemed this time it blended much easier with both you and Alessia actually conversing. Unlike before where it would be a civil conversation now the two of you actually sat beside each other.

Only after Alessia had to wrestle Luca out of his regular seat beside you.

"But I always sit there!" Luca complains as Alessia smiles in victory over having successfully pushed him off the chair beside you.

"Not anymore" Alessia mocks as she sits happily in the chair as you giggle at the siblings.

"Mom!" Luca whines while Carol just shakes her head.

"Luca it's just a chair" Carol sighs but has a hint of a smile on her face. Clearly amused by her children's antics.

"But I always sit there!" Luca argues once more. He looks at you, "Tell them Sherlock!"

You shake your head at his nickname for you but hold up your hands declaring neutrality, "Sorry Watson".

He looks at you betrayed as Alessia wraps an arm around you pulling you into her slightly as she smirks smuggly up at her brother. "Sorry, looks like she has a new favorite Russo now".

Luca sighs sadly before he eventually takes his new seat beside his brother as he mopely eats his food.

Everything after that was fine apart from the few teasing comments thrown around.

It was later in the evening as you recovered from your evening of playing soccer and nursing your little food baby that Alessia suggested the two of you watch a movie.

You were playing on your phone as she dropped beside you on the couch. "Here" she says as she holds out a bowl for you.

You peek into the bowl, "What is it?"

"Skittles" Alessia answers simply before holding up her own bowl, "Don't worry I took out all the green ones".

You smiled softly at that. "You remembered?" You asked as you recall telling her in one of your study sessions that you loved Skittles but hated the green ones.

"Of course" she smiled at you before turning back to the TV, "I also remember you saying you love Harry Potter so which one are we going to watch?"

You smile softly before telling her your favorite one as she puts it on. You watch the film for a little while before Alessia moves beside you but your eyes remain locked on the screen. She calls your name and you hum showing that you're listening.

But when she doesn't say anything you look over at her to see her fiddling with her fingers. "Can I ask you something?" She asked quietly and albeit a bit nervously.

Seeing how nervous the girl was, you paused the movie and gave her your full attention. "Of course Less. You can ask me anything" you say as you take one of her hands and rub your thumb over her knuckles.

She watches how your thumb glides over her knuckles softly before she sighs. "What's up with you and Luca?"

You practically choke on air as your eyes widen at the thought. "What?"

But Alessia just shrugs as she looks at the paused screen showing a freeze frame of the golden trio. "It's just...at dinner. He seemed really upset that he didn't get to sit beside you. And you have those nicknames for each other...." she explains before trailing off.

You scrunch your face before shrugging, "I mean it's nothing? It's like he said. We always sit together. And he always calls me Sherlock just because he thinks I'm smart and help him with homework sometimes. So I just call him Watson in return".

She looks at you for a second longer before looking into your eyes, "So there's... nothing going on between you two?"

It takes a second for you to grasp what she's insinuating but once it finally clicks you gasp. "What! Wha? No! No no Less! It's not like that at all!" You almost gag at the thought, "God no!"

You shake your head, "No Less it's nothing like that. We just get along really well. God he's like a brother to me!"

Alessia laughs at how off put you are but the mere suggestion of the two of you dating but judging by the small blush on her face you can still tell she's slightly embarrassed by asking that now.

You take her hand and again give it a small squeeze paired with a smile, "Trust me Less. I will never date Luca. Ever". You give her a wink, "Like you said. I have a new favorite Russo after all".

She smiles brightly at the reassurance. Her head drops into your shoulder as you nuzzle into the back of her head. You stay like that a moment before the two of you decide to turn back to the movie. It's not long after the two of you are leaning up against each other discussing which Houses you would both be in.

It wasn't till later your mother came to tell you it was time to go home when both your mother and Carol found the two of you curled up together as Alessia had her arms wrapped around you as you were settled into her leaning your head against her shoulder.

~~~

Honestly you didn't wake up today expecting to be rugby tackled. Let alone by a soccer player of all people.

You had been at your locker gathering books for your next classes when you had heard rapid steps coming up to you. You didn't even have time to turn as there was suddenly arms around your waist and your lifted off the ground.

You let out a yelp as you drop your books clinging onto the arms around you in fear of being dropped. When you finally are put back on the ground, you turn ready to rip whoever had the audacity to touch you, but you quickly stop when you see Alessia smiling brightly at you.

"Less! What the hell is up with you?" You whisper shout at her as you brace yourself on her arms trying to ignore the small thought in your head as you realise her hands were still on your waist.

But she doesn't say anything. Instead she just pulls out a sheet of paper as she holds it up doing a small little dance on the spot. "I passed!" She cheered as she shows you proudly the 84% marked at the top of the test.

Your eyes widen before you smile. "Less! You didn't just pass, you aced it!" You beam as you smile up at her. "Gosh Less I knew you could do it!"

Alessia is practically bouncing on the spot in glee before launching herself at you once more this time in a hug. The embrace nearly sends you to the floor if not for you balancing the two of you against your locker.

Honestly you weren't used to much affection apart from hugs from your mom and occasionally Carol.

But since you started to become closer with Alessia you were slowly getting more comfortable with touch. Purely because Alessia was very touchy. The girl had an affinity for hugs and small touches.

But it wasn't even that you just got use to the touches.

It was how patient she was with you when she found out you just weren't use to unfamiliar touch. How she noticed the first time she hugged you, you froze up. Or the time she grabbed your hand you flinched away. She was starting to think it was her until you sheepishly smiled and told her you just weren't used to touch.

It was then how she would always check to see if it was okay first. Instead of grabbing your hand she would offer it first. How she would usually wait for you to make the first move for a hug or anything physical as to make sure you were comfortable.

She was patient with you until you grew okay with her touch. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you probably had started to like it a bit too much.

Like in this instance, where you can feel yourself sink into the hug. Liking how safe and warm you felt in her arms. While you usually cursed your height difference as it gave the Russo girl something to tease you about, it worked perfectly for hugs. As you slotted together perfectly with your head tucked right into her neck. With hers rest on the top of your crown. In her excitement she gave you a kiss on the top of your head.

But reality seemed to hit you all at once as you started to recognize the looks and whispers from your classmates.

You suppose it was an unusual sight to see the resident nerd with the school's soccer superstar and It girl.

You cleared your throat shifting slightly uncomfortable under people's stares but still gave Alessia a smile. The girl was so escatic that she didn't even notice.

"Seriously I couldn't have done it without you, I don't know how to thank you" Alessia said, grateful.

You couldn't help but soften at that as you momentarily forget about all the eyes on you. You shook your head lightly, "This was all you Less. You worked hard for this". You squeezed her forearm lightly, "You deserve this. I'm proud of you".

That seemed to turn the girl shy as she smiled with a light blush dusting her face. She cleared her throat before realizing your books were still laid on the floor.

She quickly picked them up for you as she slipped them back into your hands with a smile, "I better go I'm going to be late to class I just had to tell you about the test". "But I'll still see you later then yeah?" She quickly asks as you zip up your bag.

That made you raise a brow. "You still want to study together? But you passed?"

There was a subtle roll of her eyes but you ignored it. What you couldn't ignore was how she bit the bottom of her lip almost as if she tried to contain a smile. "Yeah but I still need to keep the grade up now don't I?" She teased making it your turn to roll your eyes.

She giggled but smiled at you, "Despite what you might believe I actually enjoy our study sessions now and would hate for them to stop".

She smirked, "Besides, our mothers like us hanging out. And I'd say they will have a fit if we went back to how things used to be. They enjoy using us as an excuse to hang out I think".

You let out a laugh with a nod agreeing with her.

She started backpedaling as she realized she was about to be late for class. "So I'll see you later?"

You nodded, "Yeah I'll see you later".

She smiled and turned making her way through the sea of people. You couldn't describe how you feeling as you watched her walk down the corridor.

It wasn't until your breathing hitched as she turned to look at you over her shoulder. Even though she was half away down the hallway you could still see her beautiful blue eyes paired with her perfect beaming smile.

It was only then you realized how fucked you were as you came to the realization.

You were being to fall for Alessia Russo.

#alessia russo #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo imagines #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo x y/n

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bietchz · 1 year

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Why don't you just kill me? - Daemon Targaryen x reader

Why don't you just kill me?

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: slight smut and allusions to it, jealousy, violence, mentions of a previous envolvement between Daemon and Rhaenyra.

Note: Ok, this is it, the first thing I write here. I'm nervous and English is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes to begin with. I was challenged by a friend to write under the prompt "why don't you just kill me?" and this was the result.

Living at the Red Keep was a lot to deal with. Between enormous meals that never ended and political talks back and forward, me and my big sister, Rhaenyra, had our hands full. Especially her, though. Being the little Targaryen has always left me a bit overshadowed because Nyra would have the focus of being the Realm’s heir, leaving me to be the Realm’s Dove. People said that my silver hair and my soft features always remembered them of innocence and purity, and I absolutely hated that.

All my childhood, me and Nyra were obsessed with Uncle Daemon, he used to be a role model to us, even though everyone told us that he was rogue. And indeed, he was. Many years later, there were rumors that he defiled my sister in a brothel and that’s why she was so urgently married to Sir Laenor. He wanted her, like everyone also prefers Rhaenyra.

I only noticed his eyes on me on Laena’s funeral. After twenty years of living, finally I earned his attention. Maybe, his eyes only wondered for a bit time longer than they used to, but for me that made my day. Daemon was finally free again and his eyes were on me. What I did not notice was the hateful look I received from my sister. For the first time in my life, Rhaenyra was jealous of me, and I had no idea. After some kind words the Velaryons had to say about Laena, her body was thrown into the sea, and I watched the coffin sink. For some reason, I felt chills all over my body and then I felt his breath near my ear.

“Dear niece. You’ve grown.”

His voice was deep, and it touched my insides, leaving them on fire. I couldn’t bring myself to lift my chin, to turn around, to face him. I was afraid I was going to melt.

“Uncle. It’s been a long time. I’m a woman now.”

“Who did your father promised you to?” His voice was quick to keep the conversation going. He clearly had a motive to talk to me and I was starting to understand it.

“Jason Lannister.” I whispered, with disgust in my voice. I still didn’t believe what I was saying, but Viserys was convinced he was the best match.

“That old cunt? He could be your father. And that smug look on his face is utterly disgusting.” His tone was mocking, but did I find a hint of jealousy in it? Maybe.

“It’s the King’s perfect match. Not even my doe eyes could dissuade him. I’m doomed.” The last part was said in a murmur. I could not question the King’s decisions out loud, what would everyone think…?

A loud noise was heard, and everyone looked back. Everyone but Daemon, whose eyes remained on me. I gulped when I realized the proximity between us, but when I looked at Rhaenyra and saw that she had hurt herself with a mug, I ran to her to stop de bleeding with my bare hands. In my spare time, I usually hid in the library and red some of the maesters’ books on medicine. That made me more ready to these kinds of situations than almost everyone around me, so I was the one who helped Rhaenyra to get inside and to bandage her wound. I lost Daemon from my sight with all this chaos.

______________________________________________________________

After dinner with the Velaryons and a weirdly passive-aggressive Rhaenyra, I went to my chambers, ready for a good night of sleep so I could ride on Vermithor tomorrow without the risk of falling because of being tired. Well, I couldn’t be more wrong. Daemon was right there, siting on the armchair near the bathtub I used that morning.

“I was in doubt if I should show myself before or after you undressed, but I just couldn’t resist seeing you again.” He said as he stood up, walking in my direction. Those words caught me off guard and I could only observe as he got near, and his hand caressed my cheek. “The most beautiful woman should not end up with that fucking lion. You are a dragon, you deserve a dragon. Do you want one, sweet girl?”

“Yes.” The words could barely escape my mouth, but the answer was certain, I felt sure of that. I wanted that, I wanted him, Daemon Targaryen, the Rogue Prince. “But I only want you.”

And that was enough to get his hands all over me. When I noticed, his hands were on my thighs and forcing me to jump to him. My dress rode up my legs with this movement and when he threw me onto my bed, I was practically exposed. I understand the Rogue part of him now: his fierceness, his bruteness, it was exhilarating, and I didn’t mind burning with his fire. We made love all night and any secrecy we might wanted to have, was thrown out of the roof the moment he delved between my legs and made me see stars with his tongue. When I woke up the morning after, I could still feel his seed that he pumped continuously into me the night before. I was utterly and completely ruined by Daemon Targaryen, and I enjoyed the feeling. I woke him up with kisses and his tight hug pulling me against him was the key to know that he had awaken.

“Good morning, sweet thing. Did you sleep well?” He asked, burying his nose on my neck, and spoiling me with little and stern kisses. “I shall speak with your father today. Our wedding will be in a fortnight if everything goes to plan.”

“In a fortnight? Were you already planning this before you even spoke with me?” I had to laugh because that was really a Daemon thing to do. He always had things his way.

“Maybe.”

______________________________________________________________

We took a long time getting up and getting ready. I needed another bath before breakfast and Daemon took the blankets in my room to burn and hide the evidence of what happened. As I was exiting the bathtub, Rhaenyra entered my chambers in a rush, slamming the door behind her and leaving us both alone.

“What do you think you’re doing, sister?” Nyra’s words were laced with venom and breathing got a little harder for me. She never talked to me like that, she didn’t even sound like my sister. “Daemon is out of reach. He is mine.”

“Rhaenyra, I-” She stopped me before I could even continue.

“No. He was my first. He saw me first. He had me first. He chose me first. Who the hell do you think you are to try and rob me of all that. You had to pick that skimpy dress, almost shoving your tits on his face so you would notice you. And for what? Did he come here, promised sweet nothings and some good fucking and then leave? Guess what? It wasn’t a first. It happened to me, too.”

“He didn’t promise. He delivered. He spent the night, and he is now speaking with dad so we can marry in a fortnight. He came here, to Driftmark, wanting me. He is over you, Rhaenyra. You should get over him.” And after those words I just said, I could see the fire burning in her eyes.

“You don’t know what you’re getting into. He won’t marry you, not on my watch. I shall repeat so it is very clear to you: he is mine and you will not be in the middle of my future with him.” She said louder, so sure of her words, that she ignited some kind of emotion on me that I can’t really describe.

“And what are you going to do, Rhaenyra? Why don’t you just kill me? Surely, that would give you the happy ending you so desire.”

“Well, maybe that’s what I’m going to do.” She said as she pulled a dagger from her tight beneath her dress and left me in shock.

#daemon x you #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon

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alloftheimaginesblog · 11 months

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feelings {peter parker tasm}

plot: you and peter have been friends since you were both knee height, now that you're both mid twenties you're busy navigating life and also the fact that you're both hopelessly in love with the other.

character: peter parker (tasm) x reader

requested by anon

Aunt May had always had her hopes for the two of you. She could see it coming from a mile away, honestly. She had raised Peter and had practically helped to raise you too since you were always over at the Parkers' house from when you could talk. She watched as you and Peter's friendship blossomed, watched as you helped each other through school, dealing with bullies and crushes and exams. She watched as Peter got and lost his first girlfriend and watched as you supported him through the loss of Gwen. He was there after your first relationship ended in turmoil and tears. She watched as you both got jobs and got places in college, both busy and yet both still making the effort to see each other. She watched as neither of you realised but you both started to fall in love. She had always known that there was something there.

She had tried to tell Peter just to help guide him to you when he was seventeen but Uncle Ben had told her to stop meddling in their nephew's life. "He'll figure it out in his own time, May. They'll realise soon enough." So Aunt May dropped it and continued to watch from the side-lines with a secret smile every time she saw the two of you.

Peter's leg was tapping away as he worked, he could never sit still, "You good, Parker?" You asked him. You were both busy with essays for your separate college courses but you always liked to work together. Ever since you were little you liked doing homework and the likes together. There was something about his presence, it calmed you and helped you focus.

Peter rubbed at his eyes tiredly, the stubble from neglecting to shave for the last few days was a feature you quite liked about him. Hope he keeps that beard, grows it out a bit more maybe. You frowned when you caught yourself thinking it, okay weird. He was your friend - your best friend - nothing more, nothing less. "I'm fine," Peter sighed, breaking you out of your thoughts, "hungry though... Wanna go for lunch?"

You laughed, "Think you mean dinner?" You teased, showing him the time on your phone, "We've been at this for hours."

"Shit, really? Wow... I better give Aunt May a call, let her know I'm okay. You know how she worries."

"Can you ask if I can come for dinner-"

"You're coming." Peter said, deadpan, as he called her, "Hey Aunt May, it's me. Me and (y/n) have been studying and doing essays since 11am and now it's nearly 5pm!" Peter's face scrunched, "What? No. We were writing essays - just writing essays."

You packed your bag as he finished his conversation, "She must've had a drink of something strong," Peter said as he hung up the phone, "She was convinced that we weren't studying. She kept hinting that we were doing something else like making out or something like that! Insane, right?!" Peter's laughter was loud and you didn't know why that hurt so much. Is it so awful to even think? Am I that unappealing to you? You forced a laugh as these thoughts spun through your head, "I mean, that's insane, right?"

"Absolutely." You nodded, smile falling as you grabbed your bags. Why did you care so much? You had no idea. You didn't know why you were so hurt by his comments. Peter was your friend, that was all... right? Surely there wasn't anything else there, right? Right? You cleared your throat, "Uh, you know, I actually forgot I have plans to get dinner with my family today, Pete." It was a lie and Peter could tell. He always could tell, he didn't need enhanced senses to know when you were lying.

"Oh," he frowned, "Are you okay?"

You nodded quickly, "Fine, yeah. I gotta go though, I'll see you later. Give May a hug from me." Quickly you darted out of the library before he could ask you anything else. Peter watched you go, confused and a little hurt. You had lied to him and that upset him more than anything. Why were you lying to him? Had he hurt your feelings? Peter didn't know but he was going to figure it out.

You had been avoiding Peter a little bit for the rest of the day. You were just trying to clear your head. You'd come to the realisation that you liked him... a lot. You didn't know when the feelings started or why today you were realising it but you realised as you couldn't stop thinking about him. You couldn't get Peter and his dumb laugh and stupid haircut out of your head.

Peter had been calling and texting you for the last few hours and was barely getting a response so he knew where you'd be. He knew that when you got upset and things got overwhelming, you'd be on your apartment buildings roof watching as the sun set. You knew that he'd find you, you didn't mind, you knew that sooner or later this conversation would have to happen.

He found you in your usual spot, sitting with a blanket and some coffee, "Hey," he said quietly, offering you a smile and extending his hand to show you his peace offering, "god you a donut from Sal's that you love..."

With a smile and a 'thanks', you took the donut from him and began to eat it. He sat beside you, stretching his legs out and dropping his bag to the side, "I think we need to talk," he said after a few moments.

You nodded as you finished your donut, "Yeah," you said, clearing your throat, "yeah we do."

"Look, I don't know what I did earlier but I'm sorry-"

You didn't know where the sudden burst of anger came from but the words were being yelled from your mouth before you could even realise, "Is the thought of being with me so repulsive?!"

Peter jumped back, taken aback, "Wh- What?!"

"Earlier!" You snapped, jumping up making him stand up too, "You thought it was hilarious and insane when May suggested we be together! Here I am realising that I care about you and you say shit like that- Shit." You slammed your hand over your mouth, whirling away from him as your heart hammered hard in your chest. You hadn't mean to explode like this but he'd really upset you earlier and you just couldn't keep it in.

"Are you saying that you've got feelings for me?" Peter asked, voice soft and gentle; calm despite his racing heart and despite your previous tone, "(y/n), speak to me."

"I-I-I don't know!" You wailed, head in your hands, "I don't know! I- I think so? I mean, I've just been feeling stuff that I never normally feel and I look at you and I get literal butterflies. I thought that shit was made up in Disney movies but I find myself smiling when you say my name, I feel excited when you smile at me... Yeah," you laughed incredulously, "I'm saying I've got feelings for you."

Peter was silent for a few seconds as he took in all of what you just said and then he said the most heart-breaking thing he could've said, "Oh."

And there it was. Peter's reaction. Oh. Your heart sank. Of course he didn't feel the same, of course he didn't. Why would he? The two of you were best friends so of course he didn't see you like that and now it was all fucked. You had just ruined your two decades long friendship over developing feelings for him. If you hadn't told him, if you'd have just shut up and kept quiet then you wouldn't have fucked everything up; things would be normal and you'd both be happy.

You pulled back immediately, putting your walls back up to save yourself any further embarrassment or upset, "I'm sorry, uh, never mind! Ignore everything I just said, it was a joke! Ha! Got you..." You gave a pathetic attempt laugh as tears burned at your eyes, "It was all just a joke!" Peter seemed to come back to reality as he saw you were getting upset. He said your name but you were shaking your head telling him to forget it, it was all a big joke, a laugh, it was fine. Peter knew that it wasn't a joke, he knew that what you'd said was real and he felt awful about upsetting you.

"(y/n), stop," he said loudly, cutting you off of your 'it was just a joke' ramblings, "I'm sorry for saying 'oh' I was surprised that's all! It wasn't a negative reaction or me rejecting you."

You looked at him, cheeks burning and tears slowly making their way down your cheeks, "Then what does it mean?"

"It means... holy shit, I can't believe you have feelings for me. I never thought you'd see me like that!" He grinned widely, "I've had a massive crush on you for forever."

Your jaw dropped. He had a crush on you? "Then why'd you say oh you stupid oaf!" You hissed but the corners of your lips twitched upwards.

"I-I was surprised! I never thought you'd ever like me back!"

"Of course I do," you said, "Pete, you've always been there for me. Always been so kind and you're so funny and... I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner."

He smiled at you, "I didn't think you'd ever feel the same... You're way outta my league, you always have been." He sat on the stone wall, patting it so you'd sit next to him, "We've been through a lot together, haven't we?"

You laughed, "You could say that again."

Silence fell and all of a sudden you were fifteen again crying into Peter's arms after your first boyfriend broke up with you for someone else. Then you were six and fake marrying Peter whilst Aunt May shook her head laughing. Then you were twenty getting into college and celebrating, ending up hungover and crashing at Peter's apartment for a night. Then you were eighteen finding out that he was Spider-Man and fainting from the shock of it.

He nudged you, breaking you out of your thoughts, "So what do we do now?" He asked quietly.

You shrugged, "I guess you take me out on a date," you suggested with a smile, "that little Italian place downtown. The one with the garlic twists."

"A date?" Peter smiled, "I can do that."

You looked at him, turning your body to face him, as his brown eyes caught the sun. You'd always known that he was handsome but my god, it was like you were seeing him in such a different light. The way his eyes looked like dark honey in the sunlight, the way his lips quirked upwards, the way the wind tousled his hair to perfection.

Peter couldn't take his eyes from your face. "God, you're so beautiful," he murmured quietly, eyes going between your eyes and your lips, "Can I-"

You cut him off by pulling him to meet your lips. It didn't feel weird. It didn't feel unnatural or anything like that... It felt... normal; right. It felt good. It was a simple kiss, only lasting a few seconds, but it was the best kiss you'd ever had. It was so full of emotion, so gentle and sweet and soft and you just melted into his embrace.

When you pulled away, neither of you could keep the stupid lovesick grins from your faces, "Aunt May is going to have a field day with this one," Peter laughed softly, "she's been trying to get us together for years."

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missesnott · 26 days

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We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together | Theodore Nott X Fem. Hufflepuf Reader

—> Part 2 of "Last Kiss''.

•Summary: Some weeks after starting to get over Theodore, he comes up to you and says he wants to get back together.

•Song: We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together, by Taylor Swift.

Two weeks had went by, since you made the decision of getting over Theodore. It wasn't going bad, since you didn't looked at him when you both had the same classes, you didn't care that he had a new girlfriend or anything that anyone could say that might had pissed you.

"So, is it really over between you and Nott...?" Hannah Abbott, one of your friends, asks you.

"Yeah, I'm getting over him. It's weirdly working." you say, having another bite of your dinner.

"Well, I though that you both looked so cute together!" Susan Bones replies.

"Me too, but, he literally switched you for another girl. He's a coward. I'm happy you're doing alright" a brunette said, giving you a warm smile.

You and the trio continued to talk, when you notice a certain slytherin looking straight at you. You looked at him, seeing his sad expression, but ignored. You had nothing to do with him.

A few moments later, the girl he switched you for walks right by you. She also seemed sad, maybe they had gone into a fight.

You and your friends finish having dinner and leave the Great Hall.

"I have to grab some books at the library for tomorrow, I'll you in some minutes!" you warned, waving them a quick goodbye and walking to the library, praying for it to not be closed. Thankfully, it wasn't, so you walked in.

Taking slow steps searching for the two books you needed, carefully watching the shelves, you hear a noise behind you. You slowly look back and see Theodore.

"Hello." he said on a low tone.

"What do you want Theodore?" you asked not giving him much attention.

"You used to call me Theo." he pointed.

"Used to. What do you want?" you crossed your arms, looking at him.

"Let's get back together. You and me. We're great, you know? We made a great couple..."

"Uh, no thanks." you said with a smile and walked over to the next shelf.

"Come on! Think about everything we were and went through. Do you wanna throw that away?" he looks at you, grabbing your wrist softly, with a look you knew damn well. His manipulation look.

"You threw everything we had and will ever have since you broke up with me. You switched me for that Ravenclaw girl, you broke up with her and you think that I will accept you back. Well, I won't." you pushed him slightly away so he could stay back but he didn't.

"Y/n, I love you. I love you so much." he looked at you, grabbing your wrist again, pulling you close. "Let's get back together..."

"I don't know... No. We are never getting back together, like ever!" you pulled your wrist away from him and walked away. Luckily you already had your books, so you just left to your dorm, leaving a specheless Theo beside you.

[...]

You walk to your dorm and you open the door carefully so you wouldn't wake up the other girls. As soon as you enter they turn their heads to you.

"Y/n, are you alright? We saw Theo going after you, but you were both far away." Susan stats.

"Did he talk to you?!"

"Yes, Hannah, he did. He asked me to get together with him again." you answered while taking your shoes off and placing the books on a table near.

"And?!"

"And I said no. I didn't accept him back."

The girls smiled at you and pulled you to bed waiting for you to spell out all the details.

4th post! I don't have many ideas on how to make the scavenger hunt one, but I'll come up with something, don't worry 💗

#tumblr fyp #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #lorenzo zurzolo #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire #fypツ #fypシ #fypage #fyp #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #louis patridge

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asttrogirl · 6 months

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☆ ━ WC; 0,4k

☆ ━ SUMMARY; let's put together the word husband, choso and letter of resignation to the jujutsu world

As you adjusted to this new phase of your life, watching Choso carefully tend to the small backyard garden was fascinating. His figure, which usually radiated a commanding presence, softened as he tended to the delicate plants.

Being half-cursed, Choso was in the process of adapting to the normality of a society removed from witchcraft. The mere idea of immersing himself in common work routines and other daily activities wasn't something you wanted to impose on him.

In contrast, you were accustomed to the routine from your adolescence in the world of witchcraft, feeling a constant need to stay busy. This led you to seek part-time work after acquiring a comfortable home for both of you.

Money wasn't an issue, thanks to the small fortune you had amassed as a former first-grade sorceress, so you made sure to find a part-time job that allowed you to be home after lunch. However, during those hours, Choso was a bit lost in what to do with himself until one day, while perusing the library shelves, he came across a book that Yuuji had given him some time ago about home gardens.

At first, he flipped through it with curiosity, but soon he was immersed in its pages. That book became his guide, and Choso began to experiment with the backyard garden more intentionally. What initially seemed like a simple pastime transformed into something more meaningful for him.

You observed how each day he immersed himself more in caring for the plants. His hands, which had once only known brute force, now moved delicately as he pruned, watered, and cared for each plant. The connection Choso established with nature, once so distant for him, became increasingly evident.

Although he didn't know much about the subject initially, his dedication and patience soon bore fruit. Fresh vegetables and aromatic herbs began to thrive under his care, turning the small garden into a flourishing corner in your home.

And that brings you to this moment, watching him work on some weeds that had grown near the peppers.

The hair that usually hung loose was now tied in a ponytail, and he wore his gardening pants along with a loose-fitting shirt. Apparently, you had been watching him too much, as he turned around.

"Is something wrong, dear?" he said, a smudge of dirt painting his left cheek.

"Nothing, Cho. I was just thinking about the peppers you told me about the other day," you said, causing his face to light up. In addition to gardening, he had also been getting interested in gastronomy. Not that he didn't cook, as he could make a couple of basic dishes, but he wanted to make the most of the vegetables from the garden, and what better way than with a meal prepared by him for you?

"I can't wait for you to try them. Maybe I should do something special with them," he suggested enthusiastically. You could notice a slight blush on his cheeks and a gentle smile accompanying his words.

The idea of a special dinner with fresh garden produce sounded charming. Both shared a knowing look before he immersed himself again in his green world.

The sun began to descend on the horizon, tinting the sky with warm and golden hues. In that tranquil moment, as Choso continued his work and you accompanied him from the door, you thought that this is exactly how you had imagined your retirement: in a small home, with your garden, and a husband who loved you.

─ a/n; i'm definitely going to turn this into the husband!choso series

#choso kamo #choso x reader #jjk choso #jujutsu choso #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu headcanons #jjk x reader #husband!choso

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mika-no-sekai-blog · 8 months

Text

With the last breath V

Word count: 1350+

Warnings: mentions of eating disorder

Part IV | Part VI

It's just lightly proofread, so I'm very sorry for any mistakes.

Soft light of the first sun's rays entered the room, lightly tickling your eyelids. Furrowing brows you woke up. Another morning. Your usual enthusiasm was totally gone, you groaned turning your back to the window. You didn't want to get up and especially you didn't want to eat.

The first breakfast with Azriel as delicious as it was, caused you many troubles later. For the rest of the day your stomach felt so heavy that you thought you would puke, running to toilet every few minutes. Your face had that sickly greenish hue and you were trying really hard to avoid Azriel who again spent the day near you. You didn't want him to think there was something wrong with food he made because it wasn't. You just ate too much, more than you would normally eat in a whole day.

As soon as priestesses began to stand up and go to the dining hall, Azriel stood up too, heading in your direction. You tried to hide in the darkest corner between bookshelves, but it was no help. He easily found you. Praying he wouldn't notice your state, you pretended to be busy with work.

"Hey," he stopped few steps from you. Crossing arms on his chest he cleared his throat. "Everybody's heading for lunch." Waiting for your response he watched you closely. You bit your lower lip, turning your back to him to hide face from his penetrating gaze.

"Oh.. Is that so? I didn't notice," you muttered quickly flipping through the book in your hand.

Azriel again cleared his throat nervously. "So.. I was just thinking.. Would you like to go to lunch?" His voice was so slightly trembling you almost missed it. "With me. I mean," he added quickly.

You inhaled shakily. Your heart sang hearing those words. It made you so happy you could cry, doubting you were ever happier than now and you wanted to say yes so badly. But you couldn't. Just imagining food made the breakfast threaten to return back to your mouth. You squeezed eyes closed, trying to overcome the unpleasant feeling and push the food back down. It took you some time to be able to speak again and meanwhile you could hear Azriel nervously shifting behind you.

"I'm so sorry.. I'm afraid I'm still full. But I... I'd really love to go.. It's just.." you stuttered trying to come with something to show him how much you really wanted to go.

"I see.." he said slowly. "So maybe next time?"

"Yes, certainly. I'd love to," you sent him grateful smile over your shoulder and he smiled back at you, returning back to the seat he sat before. You sighed with relieve.

He let you be for the rest of the day, but you could feel him watching you often. Thankfully he didn't ask you for dinner. He just came to bid you goodnight as both of you were going to your rooms.

Next morning he was again in the kitchen, putting last plate on the table the moment you peeked in. Of course he noticed you and invited you to join him. Still feeling your upset stomach, you didn't want to eat much, but you also couldn't bring yourself to refuse him when he offered you yet another dish. And so you again ended up eating too much. This repeated every morning, no matter when you went to the kitchen. He was always there just about to sit down to the table. You loved to spend time with him and the food he prepared was divinely delicious, but you couldn't take it anymore.

You groaned again, narrowing eyes on the shadows dancing around the wall. It was all their fault. There was no other way for Azriel to know when you decided to go to the kitchen. Traitors.

That day you decided to skip breakfast and instead you went straight to the library. Azriel appeared shortly after, sending you a tight smile when your eyes met. You could see the disappointment in his eyes even from the place you were standing at. A lump rose in your throat. You tried to not think about it and concentrate on work instead.

It was around the lunch time when Azriel's deep silent voice suddenly spoke from your right making you jump up from your seat in surprise, pressing hand to you chest. You didn't notice him coming closer. "I'm sorry I startled you," he apologized seeing your reaction.

"No, I'm sorry. I was too concentrated on work," you blushed.

Azriel swallowed hard. "I.. Today you didn't come to breakfast.. Everything alright?"

"Yes, I'm sorry. I didn't feel like eating," you tried to smile.

"Do you feel unwell?" he peeked closer to your face.

"Kind of," you whispered ashamed. "Lately I was overeating."

His lips parted slightly, jaw tightening, brows furrowed. He bit on his lower lip wanting to say something, but hesitated. You didn't want to talk about this topic. It was too sensitive for you, yet you didn't want him to misinterpret it either.

You sighed. "I guess you already noticed," you muttered. Nodding he sat down on the chair next to you, visibly glad you started it. "I'm not big eater. I was always like that since I was a child."

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he reassured you. You nodded, gratefully accepting his offer. "I'm sorry if I was too much.. I didn't mean to hurt you.. but when I held you in arms.. I was worried.. actually for a quite long time." His scarred fingers curled into fists, a sign of distress. You couldn't help it and reached out, your fingers gently caressing back of his hand. He frowned, but he didn't pull away.

"Please, don't apologize. The only thing you did was that you prepared a too delicious meal. You didn't push me to eat."

"Technically I did.." You chuckled. Both of you stayed silent for awhile. You realized your fingers were still caressing his hand, so ashamed you pulled your hand away. Azriel just watched it with unreadable expression.

"I actually came to invite you for lunch," he whispered in dull voice. "But if you don't feel like going I understand." He was looking down on his hands, shadows swirling behind his back and around his shoulders, hugging him.

Being able to talk with him like this and the fact he understood your problem and didn't judge you for that, helped you to get rid of some of the nervousness and to be more yourself. "Actually, I didn't eat breakfast, so I'd very much like to go," you said in a light, playful voice. Hazel eyes met yours as the mask fell down just to be replaced with a genuine smile.

Talking about the things Rhysand asked you to look for, you went to the dining room where the House had already prepared two sets of plates. Mor was on the continent and Cassian had to go to some Illyrian camp, so it was just the two of you. How convenient. Information you were asked for, were meant to be for Azriel's upcoming mission, so you kept talking about the topic even during the meal.

When you finished the meal, you stood up to go back to the library, but Azriel suddenly stopped you.

"Wouldyouliketogoout?" he said so fast that you didn't understand a word.

"I'm sorry, but what did you say?"

Wings tucked in behind him, Azriel inhaled deeply while shadows swirled around him.

"Would you like to go out?" he repeated slowly. "For a walk or shopping or whatever you like."

His question surprised you so much, you had to sit back down with bulging eyes. You couldn't believe he really said it. Your heart sang with happiness repeating the question over and over. You tried to tame any inappropriate reaction and forced yourself to calm down, but that's easier said than done.

He cocked an eyebrow confused by your reaction. You had to say something.

"Yes," you said in too high voice. Clearing your throat you tried one more time. "I mean, yes, of course."

#azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel x you #azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar #sarah j maas

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by-the-bloodfountain · 7 months

Text

THE SERIES

: THOUSAND YEARS

Gun Park x Fem!Reader

ㅤㅤㅤㅤPart 1

ㅤ " Remember me "

A/N : I didn't know that the Progolue would get this much likes, thank you sm! I'm actually surprised 😭 but as promised here the part 1 that you guys are waiting for!

And yes english is not my first language. I'll be telling you guys the same thing til chapter 4 or 5 HAHA

Gun is a bit ooc sry.

—

Is was a bit weird for a foreigner from Japan to move in to South Korea, but you did it anyway.

Thankful for your childhood friend, who has taught you some Korea when you told him that you wanted to go there someday.

But sadly all the memories of him fades away when you were recovering in the hospital for 3 months.

You did tries to ask your parents about the young boy, but they know nothing about him. The only thing they told you was that he was dangerous, and you should stay away from him.

That, make you want to meet the boy more.

It's been 5 years now, since you now to South Korea all by yourself, but of course your parents often sent you some money for you. They were worried, but they wouldn't stop you from your dreams.

Surprisingly you got in one of the fashion school that you wanted. You also got a part time job easily, a cashier in the small convenient store not too far from your school.

The boss there was a bit creepy but you didn't think it's was a problem at first.

Now, let's focus on the present shall we?

You were walking back to your apartment while talking to the young man Daniel. He dumped into you one day in the library and when he was about to apologize, you speaks up the apologies first and quickly got on your knees and help him with his books.

From that day on you became his personal tutor, you didn't mind being the tutor. You always have a kind heart and soul after all.

But today was different, since the moment you met that tall man who looks.. Familiar in some way. Naturally you would talk about your day and what you're going to make for dinner.

You ended up being quiet til' you stepped in your apartment. Daniel was worried but he knew he couldn't push you too much, so he just texted you to make sure you're ok.

And when you answer that everything was alright, he sighs in relief.

You don't really know why you chose to be a cashier at night shift but.. You did, so here you are, in your cashier outfit working at night.

It's was bored for most of the time

Until the door opened up and your eyes lit up in excitement. Finally a customer!

" Welco– " Oh.

It's him

Your words caught in your throat when the tall man look over to you. Even with his shade on you knew he was looking right into your eyes.

You quickly look away from embarrassment when he finally walk toward you.

" May I uh.. Help you? " You tried again, this time you force yourself to look up at him. But when he only respond with a low chuckle that slips from his mouth. You were about to speak again but then he open his mouth once more.

" You're as beautiful as the day I lost you " The man said.

And you freeze. Not before you felt your face heat up, not only from those sweet words but also how sexy it sound coming from him.

You quickly clear your throat and finally speak up.

" I'm sorry but.. You might get the wrong person " You let out a small laugh before you glance back to meet his eyes.

He's just.. Stared, and that stared make you nervous, maybe it could even make any woman knees weak.

But when he suddenly came up to you and grabbed your wrist without any warning, your body react on it own by slapping his face with your full force.

And then the silence filled the air.

Your eyes widened in shock from what you did. And his glasses were now on the ground. You were about to shout out an apologize before another chuckle left his mouth and his now revealed eyes meet with yours.

He finally got to see you clearly, not just from behind that stupid glasses he likes to wear so much.

And you. You knew you should be scared, you should runaway, but instead. You felt like those eyes we're drawing you in.

" S– Sorr–.. "

" It's okay " He said.

Gently letting go of your wrist before he crouches down grabbing his glasses, as his dark gaze glance up to you.

" I should have ask you properly " He said before walking towards you even more.

You stood there. Still trying to contain all your thoughts what just happened but then he handed you a black card.

Giving him a questioning like last time before he raised his eyebrow. You slowly grabbed the black card before you start to read it.

Gun Park

Yamazaki Yuzuru

XX-XXXX-XXXX

You're eyes widened before you shot your head up to ask him a question, but.

He was gone.

You sighs in disbelief, you didn't get to say sorry properly.

Well, now that you got his contacts you may as well try to say it to him properly through your phone? Yeah, maybe you could do that.

You simply kept the card in your pocket before she continues to do your night shift like usual.

But there's one problem.

You couldn't stop thinking about him.

You know it's weird, you just met him! How could you felt something like that for someone at first sight.

Yeah yeah, a lot of people might believe in love at first sight but you don't. You know there's something wrong. Something.. familiar.

After your night shift. You went back to your apartment and took a nice shower and making yourself a warm meal from your mother recipes.

Card in your hand, and your phone in the other. You have been staring at your phone for the last 30 minutes now. You don't know why you were scared but you are.

And finally! You called him.

...

" Hello ? "

" H–Hi! It's uh.. " You said your name.

Your heart were beating so fast you thought you were going to fast out.

When you didn't heard any answer, you try calling his name.

" Sorry, I didn't think you would call " and gosh.. The way you say his name. He could felt his heart skipped a beat.

" Oh– sorry, am I interrupting anything? " You asked, worried that you might call in the wrong timing.

But when he said that it's was okay, you simply sighs in relief.

The night went on by you and him. Gun. Talk all about the things that you wanted to know.

Even though he wanted to tell you everything he remember. All those memories that you guys made together in your childhood days. He couldn't. Maybe letting you find out by yourself might be the right way.

So, he lied. He lied about how you look like his childhood friend that he lost. He lied about everything he could, not wanting to make you feel any guilt for what happened 6 years ago.

And you believe him, even if you didn't want to. But you did.

Eventually it got late and you forgot about your school for tomorrow, you quickly glance at your alarm clock on your desk.

" AH! I have school tomorrow! Uh- I uh.. See you later? " You said, feeling a bit bad for leaving him in the middle of the conversation.

But when you hear him chuckle and slightly giving you a confirmation that it's was ok and you should get rest.

You chuckle softly before thanking him.

As you were about to press the disconnect button. His voice murmurs out.

" Would you like to have dinner together? Tomorrow? "

Your eyes widened as your face heat up from just thinking. This gorgeous man is asking you out?!

" S–Sure " You said. " What time? "

" I'll pick you up after school "

Oh yeah. He knew what school you were in, you forgot about that.

You gave him your last confirm that you accept his date. And finally hitting that disconnect button. Laying your head and your body down on the soft mattress, gently closing your eyes. And doze off immediately.

You couldn't wait for your date night tomorrow.

( AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MY BATTERY IN AT 5% WHILE WRITING THE LAST PART NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO )

#gun park x reader #park jonggun x reader #lookism #lookism x reader #gun park #park jonggun #the series : thousand years @4crew

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riding-the-sunset-bird · 5 months

Note

I don’t know if you’ve been asked this yet, but is there any particular order you recommend doing the moments for each step in?? I’m trying to figure out what moments should be played when since some of the moments trigger events in others depending on what you played first. Or! Do you guys have a preference for which you do personally?

I would say that mine is more of a preference than a recommendation, especially because I'm still doing a deep, deeeep dive into the code to really see which moments influence another (so while I'm going to give this list anyway, I also will probably redo it later after I see which moments influence one another and in which ways).

For example, if you remember the moment in Shopping where you can ask Cove "why is your dad always giving people money?" it's completely different if you've told Cove about the deal in Sandcastle first, going from Cove being puzzled by the question to understanding why the player is asking.

And speaking of Sandcastle anyway, there are some moments that I just skip altogether, specifically Sandcastle from Step 1, none from Step 2 (unless you count Derek's DLC, in which case I'd skip his version of Soiree, Siblings, and maybe Responsible), and Serendipity from Step 3. Most of it is just due to a lack of agency/choice on the player's part and/or secondhand embarrassment that I get from them.

That said, here's the order I personally go in:

Step 1

Shopping

Grown Up

Long Day

Ghost

Runaway

Fireflies

Library

Barbecue

Sleepover

My reasons are pretty basic. Shopping is a good introductory moment for the MC and Cove's relationship, just as Grown Up is a good one for Lizzie and Cove's. The other two (Long Day and Ghost) being before Runaway is because I wanted all the "negative" experiences Cove has to be before it (so the balloon popping, fighting with Lizzie, getting yelled at by the mean old people, and getting scared by the ghost).

Ghost also has to be pretty far down-ish because the opening kinda implies that you've spent a bunch of time with Cove even if it's the first one you play, so I put it as late as possible to try and make it at least slightly accurate.

And for the moments afterwards, Cove (mostly) either has a slightly better/a neutral relationship with his dad (Library with him asking about a prize, for example, even if he ignores him overall, and Barbecue with the two of them watching the fireworks together) which feels appropriate after Runaway.

The last four are mostly just ranked by how much I like them. I know Fireflies is supposed to be super important because of how much it's referenced, but I find it slightly generic compared to the others.

I also think Sleepover is a really sweet ending to yours and Cove's relationship if you manage to make him stay for the whole night, and Barbecue is just before that since you can convince Cove for eat from your spoon. Library - unlike Grown Up - gives you a choice between spending time with Cove or Lizzie so that's just an extra bonus that I feel the player should have after spending enough time with Cove.

If you play Sandcastle, then, hrm... probably before Ghost? Since Cove mentions his dad "doing whatever he wants" in Ghost so if you tell Cove about the deal in Sandcastle then it adds a bit more context to that line.

Step 2

Family

Mall

Growing

Birthday

Dinner

Wave

Escapade

Summerwork

Road Trip

Soiree

This is slightly mixed up because I wanted to pace out the moments where either Kyra/Derek appears so it's not all shoved off in one big section. Family is also first because I wanted to try to start the player off with a better impression of Elizabeth since she's usually very grumpy and by the end of Family she's more relaxed with the player.

Birthday being after Mall is because Cove is less embarrassed about sharing stuff with the MC. Some people might question why it's still so early because you lose the gummy bear toss if you have a Mixed/Studious Cove and a non-athletic MC, so it might be best to give them as many opportunities as possible for the MC to up their athletic points, but the only time to do that is in the intro so it doesn't matter.

Summerwork might seem a little late but I also thought it'd be a realistic place whether your MC was actively working on their work over the summer or was just scraping by without much interest (the drama right before the relaxation of Road Trip also feels appropriate).

Escapade before Road Trip is important because if you asked for Cove's shirt in Escapade, then you get to take it with you in Road Trip, and Soiree's placement is just obvious (especially if you play Baxter's route rather than Cove, so you end the summer with getting to meet/dance with the "mystery boy").

Step 3

Hang

Drive

Boating

Talks

Happiness

Reflection

Late Shift

Errands

Charity

Hang, Drive, and Boating work as a nice re-introductory thing for Terry+Miranda, Kyra, and Liz+Lee+Baxter respectively.

I also tried to space out the multiple moments with potential drama (Talks, Reflection, and Errands), and Happiness takes place right after Talks since you can argue with Cove in that one and it feels very Cove to immediately jump to overdoing it on making you happy after something like that.

Late Shift is only semi-random since I wanted to space out the moments where you interact with Baxter (things would obviously be different if you're going for his route). Cove also picks from the dessert menu in it which leads nicely into Errands where the MC can buy him fudge.

Though Errands is admittedly 100% personal preference because I just really like it so I put it late on the list.

Charity is obvious, though if the player prefers to date Cove in Charity (rather than dating him in the in-between or confessing at the end of Step 2) and still have moments afterwards then it can be freely moved around.

As for Serendipity if you choose to play it, probably before Boating to add to all the introductory moments?

Again, the list isn't final but this is a rough estimate. Most of them are made for narrative reasons rather than moments that are directly mentioned in others so that'll definitely change.

#our life #our life: beginnings & always #olba #type: moment order #type: ask

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suugarbabe · 8 months

Note

Hellooo I'd like to request something:

So it's with George Weasley and the reader and him are classmates (so they know eachother but kindly mind their own business). The reader is muggleborn and a big fan of old muggle music (I'm thinking of maybe something from the 60s/70s like the Beatles, Pink Floyd etc. but you can choose some other if you want) and kinda has like a similiar style (don't know how to describe it, maybe like flare jeans or something?) and totally lives and loves it. But they get bullied from some idiots about it and about being muggleborn and about nobody knowing "their kind of people". So maybe one day the reader gets bullied really hard (calling names, laughing at them etc.) and George sees it and helps them and then they become really good friends and he learns a lot about muggle music and starts loving it. And then - BOOM - one day both realise that they want more than friendship but it's kinda complicated telling eachother? So all in all it's friends to lovers.

It would be cool if you write it but only if you have the time, no pressure! If you aren't able to at the moment it's completely fine ♡

Have a nice weekend (btw I really like your fanfictions)

Babes I'm not sure what more I can do, you wrote the blurb already in your request! That's freaking great, like you did it, I can add a little extra but you did this babes!

You had always thought George was the softer twin. Whereas they were both boisterous and always pranking and loud, Fred just seemed more 'in your face' where George was more observant. Maybe that's how he found himself standing up for you after a particularly nasty group of Slytherin's were bullying you.

They were calling you names, making fun of how you dress when you weren't in school attire, calling it 'old' and 'groovy' and 'ancient', calling you 'four eyes' but George had seen you before and thought your style was rather cute and that your glasses complimented your facial features. He also now had another excuse to jinx some Slytherins.

You had thanked him when he saved you, full intentions on walking off but instead he asked where you were headed and if you needed company. That was the day you spend several hours in the library, you telling him about muggle movies and music and he knows a little bit of what you're talking about since his dad works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Dept. at the MOM, but the way you talk about it makes it so much more interesting.

Neither of you realize you've missed dinner until Fred comes looking for him, surprised to (1) find his brother in the library and (2) find him talking to a girl he's never seen before. George makes plans to meet with you again, and you're taken aback at first, but agree to meet with him.

So you start hanging out more, start showing him your old record player that was your dad's and all the old music and George is in love with it all, telling you that he thinks it's more magical than most stuff he's experienced.

And when he asks you to the yule ball your confused, because he could ask anyone, but George has never been more sure of anything in his life.

With him being in Gryffindor and you in Ravenclaw you opted to go for golden color dress (it matched most closely with both houses and also complimented your glasses frames).

When you met George at the bottom of the Ravenclaw steps you nearly took his breath away, and it was at that moment he knew he never wanted anyone else.

George could do nothing but smile on the dance floor watching you enjoy yourself and playfully criticising wizard music, "Not to say anything bad about wizarding music, all music is great if the listener likes it, but I know quite a few muggle songs that I'd much rather listen to right now."

And George would smile and nod in agreeance while he swayed with his hands on your waist, watching your lips as you talked so enthusiastically only to be suddenly cut off by his lips on yours.

You respond immediately, hands finding trace in the hair at the base of his skull pulling him closer. And when you finally break away, both breathless, chests heaving, George just smiles and tells you to continue what you were saying, that he just had to kiss you quickly before he got to scared later.

#george weasley x reader #george weasley fic #nonny bo bonny #george weasley fluff #weasley twins

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atlafan · 6 months

Text

1963 - Part 1

a/n: I have been dying to share this with yall and I'm so excited to finally be doing that. As per usual, this is the only part that will be posted here on Tumblr.All other parts will be posted on Patreon. In fact, Part 2 is already up! And Part 3 will be posted Friday.

Please consider joining my Patreon. It's only $5 a month, and it charges you the following month on the date you joined. So, if you signed up today, you wouldn't get charged again until January 10th. I post 2-4 times per month. If anything is under 10K words, that's usually when I'll post more. I depend on this extra income to help pay bills for essentials. The community there is also incredible and I write and post some of my nastiest smut on there, so if that's what you're looking for, you'll get it!

Warnings: mentions of infertility

Words: 3.8K

Patreon I Patreon Masterlist I Tumblr Masterlist I Ask

“Every month I keep hoping I’ll have different news for you two,” Doctor Simmons sighed, “unfortunately, I have the same news. Beverly still isn’t with child.”

“We’ve been trying for five months, we’ve been doing everything you’ve said. Beverly drinks the teas, she lays with her legs up after we’re done, I don’t know what else we can do.” Robert was exasperated at this point. He was squeezing his wife’s hand, desperately trying not to let any tears escape his eye ducts.

“You two have exhausted all natural remedies, so I think it’s time we consider IVF.”

Beverly’s eyes widened, and she squeezed Robert’s hand back. She looked at him, panicked.

“Beverly is terribly afraid of needles.”

“You don’t need to decide on anything right now. Take these pamphlets and look over the information. If you two want to have a baby of your own, then this may be the next step.”

“We’ll look it over and have an answer by our next appointment.”

Robert and Beverly are silent on the drive home from the doctor’s office. They’re silent on their way back into their home. Beverly goes right to the kitchen to get started on dinner. Robert comes up next to her and puts her hand over hers.

“We should read the literature on IVF.” He said.

“I have friends who have done it, and all it has done is make their hormones crazy, and not in a fun way. I really don’t want to, Robert. I’ve done everything else, please don’t make me do this.”

“It feels like sometimes I’m the only one who wants to have a baby.”

“How could you say something like that to me? If I’m infertile-“

“You’re not, though. Doctor Simmons has run every type of blood test on you.”

“I know, I was there when the nurse was drawing it after you accused me of secretly taking birth control pills.”

“Well, with how apprehensive you were about having your diaphragm removed, I had to make sure you weren’t doing any self-sabotage.”

“Maybe I’m not getting pregnant because my body knows you don’t trust me.”

“I do trust you, you just weren’t exactly thrilled to start trying.”

“You sprung it on me, I was surprised. We never really discussed having kids before we got married.”

“Sweetheart, why would two people get married if not to have kids?” He chuckled.

“That’s not why I married you. I married you because I love you and I want to be with you.”

“I love you and want to be with you too. But if I hadn’t wanted kids, we could have just shacked up in an apartment in the city. I bought us a house in the suburbs so you could keep house and raise our kids. You like being a housewife, you’ve told me as much.”

“I do. I like making your meals and keeping things tidy, but I also like my free time. I like to go have brunch with the other ladies, and I like going to the library to check out new film analysis journals, and I like being able to go to the movies in the middle of the day. Having a baby means I can’t do those things anymore. At least, not until it’s old enough to go to school. That’s five solid years I’d be putting on hold. And within that five years, I could have at least two more kids. So, now I’m thirty-one with three kids under the age of five, and oh yeah, I’ll still be expected to keep the house clean and cook all your meals and pleasure you even though everything between my legs will feel like sandpaper.”

Robert eyes his wife, then puckers his lips in thought. “Is that how you’ve really been feeling? You haven’t said a word.”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you. You’re not easy to talk to these days. Every time I reach for my clip-belt for my sanitary napkins, I can see you watching with such sadness in your eyes. Motherhood is scary. My friends tell me these horror stories about childbirth. Their husbands barely take a week off from work to be home with them and the baby. So, we’re expected to push these kids out, then get up the next day and get back to our usual routines.”

“Beverly, you’re worried about things women have been doing since the beginning of time. Don’t be such a child. The fear of needles I can understand, but the fear of being a mother makes no sense. I know you and your mother have a strained relationship, but that doesn’t mean history will repeat itself.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “If we’re not pregnant by our next appointment with Doctor Simmons, then I would like us to start IVF. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Good.” He looked at the ingredients on the counter and grimaced. “I don’t want meatloaf tonight, make something else instead.”

“Yes, dear.”

“I’m gonna go to my office, have a beer, and listen to the ball game. Let me know when dinner is on the table.”

“Yes, dear.”

Robert smiled, grabbed a beer out of the fridge, and walked out of the kitchen. Beverly took a deep breath and rummaged through her cabinets to see what else she could possibly whip up for dinner. It needs to be something heavy enough that Robert won’t feel like making love before bed. Beverly doesn’t have it in her to put on a performance tonight.

Most people get married to have kids. Beverly married Robert because she loved him. He wanted to take care of her. But when the honeymoon phase ended, and he stopped saying thank you to her for all of the things she did to take care of him, she grew resentful. She never let on about it. Robert didn’t need to know how she really felt. Opening up the way she did the day prior wasn’t normal. Things had been good between them for a long time. Beverly didn’t mind stepping into the role of a stay-at-home wife. She was college educated, but it wasn’t like she’d ever be able to carry a position in the profession of her desire. And since she didn’t want to be a schoolteacher or a nurse, Robert asked her to stay home to tend to the house he had bought for them.

At twenty-three, she really hadn’t minded. They met in college, as so many young couples do, and it was love at first sight. Their courtship was disgustingly romantic, and their wedding was a dream come true. The honeymoon phase was so sickly sweet. Beverly enjoyed making breakfast for Robert before he left for work. She enjoyed sending him on his way. She had the whole day to herself. She’d tend to her various gardens, and she’d make sure the house was clean. She’d meet up with friends for brunch. She did everything a good wife was supposed to do.

At twenty-six, Beverly feels like she’s on autopilot. She can’t help but wonder if the reason why older couples have designated sex nights is because the wives must need the six days in between to psych themselves up. She also can’t help but wonder if this is why so many older couples opt for twin beds that can be pushed together or pulled apart.

And it’s not that Beverly doesn’t want kids, she thinks it could be fun, but she’s petrified of essentially raising a child by herself. Robert will stroll in from work, bounce the baby on his knee for all of two minutes, and call it a night. She’s scared for all the reasons she tried to explain the day prior. Robert also didn’t give Beverly a choice five months ago…

“I was thinking of maybe enrolling in graduate school.” Beverly brought up one morning over breakfast. Robert had nearly choked on his toast. “I know what you’re thinking, but you wouldn’t have to pay for a thing. They have stipends for students. I could teach while I learn.”

“I thought you didn’t want to teach.”

“I didn’t want to teach children, but something about having high level discussions with college students makes teaching sound like fun. I miss being in school.”

“What’s the point of a graduate degree in film and media? It’s not like you can do anything with it.”

“A graduate degree could lead to a doctorate, and I could keep teaching. I know female professors are few and far between, especially in the world of film, but it is possible.”

“So, you want to be a career woman, is that what you’re saying?”

“Not exactly. Classes wouldn’t take up all my time. I’d still be able to cook and clean and do everything I’m doing now. Except now when I go to the library, I’ll be doing schoolwork instead of reading for leisure.”

“Seems like you have it all figured out already.”

“Well, I wanted to show you I had thought it all through, that I was serious. You got your graduate degree. If you hadn’t, we never would have met.”

“Exactly. What if some older professor comes on to you? You’d have no way to protect yourself.”

“Oh, Robert, I’ve gone this long without something horrible happening to me on a college campus, I think I’d be fine. Besides, all I’d need to do is show off the lovely rings on my finger.” She grinned. “No one would mess with a married woman whose husband can afford a diamond like this.”

“Did you already sign up for a course?”

“Of course not. I wanted to speak with you first.”

“Good.” He finished his breakfast. “Let me think on it.”

“Alright. Anything in particular you want for dinner tonight?”

“Actually, I was thinking we could go out tonight. I wanted to take you somewhere nice.”

“Oh? For what?”

“Does a husband need a reason to treat his wife to a romantic evening?”

“No.” She giggled. “I’m just excited at the prospect of a spontaneous date night. I’ll pick out a dress I haven’t worn in a while, so it feels like new.”

“I think that’s a great idea.” He stood and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll call you before I leave work, so you’ll know when to expect me.”

“Okay, have a good day, dear.”

Beverly was excited. A night out was a positive sign. Robert wouldn’t take her out just to give her bad news. He was going to say yes to her going back to school.

The restaurant Robert took Beverly to was ritzy. He danced with her, ordered an expensive bottle of wine, and kissed on her shoulder and neck while he sat next to her in their booth. That sickly sweet feeling Beverly thought might be gone was sparking again. When the cheesecake came out, they fed each other bites. It was adorable.

“Are you having a good time tonight?” He asked.

“Yes, this has been such a wonderful evening. Thank you for taking me here.”

“You’re welcome, Bev.” He put his hand over hers and gave it a squeeze. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately, and our conversation this morning was the kick in the pants I needed, so I’m really glad you brought up graduate school.”

“I’m glad it was a positive conversation.” She smiled. “What’s been on your mind?”

“I think it’s time we started trying for a baby.” All of the color drained from Beverly’s face, but her smile never wavered. She couldn’t let on how disappointed she was. “You’re clearly bored with the amount of free time on your hands. I know school seemed like a fun thing to do to pass the time, but I think we’ve waited long enough. We’ll be married almost four years soon, I think we know what we’re doing in the bedroom by now. So, next week, I’m taking you to the doctor to have your diaphragm removed-“

“You called my doctor about something like that?”

“I know it’s a bit awkward, but it’s not a secret that you have one. I went with you when you got it, I should be with you when you have it taken out.”

“Robert…I don’t like that it feels like you’re not giving me a choice. What if I’m not ready?”

“It’s not that you don’t have a choice, I’m just stating that it’s time. You take care of me just fine, you’ll be a great mother. This is what I would rather you do than go back to school. Besides, think of the fun we’ll have while we’re working at it. I got excited at work today thinking about it. I was hoping tonight could be a test run.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I love you so much, Bev, I wanna turn that love into a physical being.”

“Yeah, um, that makes perfect sense. Let’s…let’s make a baby.”

“Really?” He asked, elated.

“Yes, dear.”

Robert kissed his wife. He kissed her in the car. He kissed her on the way into their home, up the stairs, and into their bedroom. He made love to his wife, then called it a night.

After getting her diaphragm removed, they waited until after her next period was done to start trying. This gave Beverly plenty of time to figure out how she could avoid pregnancy. She needed to keep some semblance of control over her own body. Robert wasn’t going to tell her when she was ready. She could decide that on her own.

Lysol douching didn’t work, she knew this. Her sister told her as much. Some of her friends offered her their birth control pills, but she knew they’d show up on a blood test, which Robert made sure she had after the second month of her still not having gotten pregnant. Beverly may have studied film, but she was an excellent student in biology and chemistry as well. She knew how condoms worked. They were coated in spermicides. She just needed to figure out how to coat her vagina with it. She bought condoms and squeezed all of the lubricant and spermicide off them and got a good amount into a bottle. She mixed it with olive oil, what ancient Greeks used to use, and douched with that before having sex with Robert. She knew it would be a long shot if it worked, but she had to try.

When the third month came along, and she still wasn’t pregnant, she took solace is knowing her little concoction was working. And because Robert never went down on her, he’d never smell or taste a thing. When he used his fingers, he just thought she was extra wet, which made him feel proud of himself.

She was perfectly content with her plans until the topic of IVF came up. Even the harshest of solutions couldn’t stand up to IVF injections. She never felt bad for lying to Robert because she didn’t like that he had become so controlling, but she also didn’t think she’d be doing this for so long. The thought of her giving her body up didn’t sound any more appealing five months later.

What was she going to do?

“I really think that one is gonna be a winner.” Robert sighed happily as he relaxed into the bed, looking over at Beverly as she lay with her legs in the air. “I’m glad we waited a couple of days in between, feels like my boys swam stronger.”

“Yes, dear.” Beverly closed her eyes and tried to breathe steadily, counting down the minutes until she could go use the bathroom and cleanse herself.

“I had an idea today. I really want to spare you from having to be injected with needles. I’m a good husband, and good husbands protect their wives. So, since we have about five weeks until our next appointment, I thought we could try one last natural method.”

“I’m listening.” She turned her head to look at him, intrigued.

“I overheard some ladies talking in the break room this morning. It’s the one good thing about having so many female secretaries. Anyways, they happened to be discussing various issues with conceiving. One of them said they had a friend who got pregnant the second she and her husband stopped focusing so much on it. The wife threw herself into different projects, and a month or so later, she was pregnant.”

“Wait.” She sat up on her elbows. “Are you saying I can enroll in a graduate course after all?”

“What, no.” He laughed. “No, I was thinking we could finally redo the patio and have that pool you’ve wanted put in. You’ve been talking about wanting to host more parties for our friends. You always do so well with the workers when we have something done here, and you love gardening. I think you’d really enjoy overseeing a landscaping project.”

“Let me get this straight: you would rather pay thousands of dollars to have our backyard redone, than pay a couple of hundred for me to enroll in a course?”

“I think school would be too stressful. If you’re stressed, then you definitely won’t conceive. Overseeing a project that puts you outside in the sun will be a win-win. Not to mention an old friend of mine is willing to give us a deal on the work.”

“You have a friend that’s a landscaper?”

“Yeah, this guy from my old neighborhood took over his father’s business. He said he could swing by Saturday to take a look at things.”

“It sounds like you’ve already decided that this is what we’re doing.”

“That’s because I have.” He grinned proudly. “Bev, when we got married, I promised to take care of you. This is me taking care of you. Not all husbands would do something like this for their wives. You could at least pretend to be grateful.”

“I am grateful, I’m sorry if my tone suggested otherwise. What time Saturday is he coming over?”

“That I left up to you. I didn’t know if you had any errands or plans with the ladies.”

“Oh.” Well, at least he was trying to be considerate. “Maybe around three? That would give me time to pick up the dry cleaning and stop at the market.”

“Three is perfect. I’ll give him a call tomorrow to let him know.” He looked down at his watch. “You should be good to use the bathroom now.”

“Yes, dear.” Beverly lowers her legs and slings her robe on. Once she’s in the bathroom, she locks the door and flips on the fan. She rummages around in the back of the sink-cabinet until she finds her douching solution. She used some prior to having sex with her husband, but she likes to use it after for good measure. She bites into the heel of her palm as she cleanses herself. It tends to sting from time to time. When she’s done, she looks at herself in the mirror. She knows she can’t keep doing this to herself. She just doesn’t know what else to do.

Beverly loves her weekend clothes. There’s something so freeing about slipping on a pair of high-waist capris, a sleeveless button-up that ties in the front, and a pair of flats. She usually gardens after running her errands, and this is what she typically wears to garden. Robert hates it when Beverly wears pants, or anything form fitting, in public. Why should anyone else be privy to how round her bum is, or how full her thighs are? She’s got a body like Marilyn’s, and that’s something he prefers to keep under wraps.

When the landscaping van pulls up out front, Beverly is in the front yard, planting and mulching. She has the radio going, so she doesn’t pay any mind to the sound of an engine turning off. The man in the landscaping van tilted his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, getting a better glimpse of Beverly. Robert starts walking over, so the man gets out of his van, rounding it to meet his old friend.

“Harry.” Robert smiled and shook the man’s, Harry, hand. “Can you believe it? Got a nice house in a suburb just like the one we grew up in.”

“I never doubted you’d get everything you wanted.” Harry smiled back.

“Seems like the Navy treated you well.”

“Yeah, I can’t complain too much. I didn’t get blown up or lose a limb.”

“And now you own your father’s business. Sorry for your loss, by the way. That’s the drawback of inheritance.”

“Yep. You working for your father?”

“Yes, and proud of it. I’ve got an office with a view, and I can afford to live more than comfortably. Got a beautiful wife, too.” Robert looked around. “Beverly, c’mere!” Beverly stood and dusted off her trousers before making her way over to the two men. “Harry, this is my Beverly.” He put his arm around his wife’s shoulders.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Clark.”

“Likewise, Mr…”

“Styles.” He points behind him with his thumb. “Of Styles Landscaping.”

“Right, of course.”

“Your husband told me you were hoping to have some work done in the backyard.”

“Yes, we’d like the patio redone and to have a pool put in, if possible.”

“Let’s show Harry to the back.” Robert said as he led his wife to the back. Harry followed close behind.

As Beverly observes Harry observing her yard, she can’t help but feel confused. How is this man a friend of Robert’s? Harry’s t-shirt is stretched tight over his chest, not to mention how beefy and muscular his biceps are. His arms are also littered with tattoos.

It takes about twenty minutes for Harry to look around, take some measurements, and get a feel for the land.

“Alright, I can come back on Tuesday with some different mockups of what can be done back here. I can bring my portfolio too, so you can look at some of my past projects. Does Tuesday work for you, Mrs. Clark? I’m assuming you’ll be the one home.”

“Yes, the early afternoon works for me, Mr. Styles.”

“Perfect.” Robert clapped his hands. “H, come in for a bit. We can have a couple beers and catch up while Bev does her gardening out front.”

“Sounds good to me.” Harry nodded, and Robert started to make his way inside. For a split second, Harry tilted his sunglasses down to look at Beverly. “It was nice meeting, Mrs. Clark.” He winked and smirked before catching up with Robert.

Beverly felt her cheeks heat up. She turned and watched Harry walk into her home. Why did he wink at her like that? And why did it make her feel like she just got a B-12 shot?

She shook it off and made her way out front. Gardening will help her clear her head. She’s a married woman. A friend of Robert’s wouldn’t flirt with a married woman…would he?

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