#i spotted this on the book of faces and IMMEDIATELY had nerd thoughts

[marimeeko]

If this is not the very description of Katsuki and Izukus relationship....

[hazelfoureyes]

The Big Part

Alastor x Virgin FemReader smut

(part 2)

You were dead, it was time to divest yourself of your virginity. When you ask Alastor, he takes to the task immediately. Unfortunately, he seems to enjoy surprising you.

warnings/promises: Alastor x Reader smut, Alastor dislikes getting naked, virginity does not rock, possessive Alastor, head pats, reader is an adult she’s just a nervous idiot bad at words

Horny little deer cult: @frompeach , @chirimeimei , @poppingaround , @polytheatrix , @itsmskeisha , @stygianoir , @celestial-vomit , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @amurtan

minors dni, this isn’t educational in the slightest and is just straight smut

It made sense, at the time. You didn’t want a relationship and you didn’t want to meet a stranger you couldn’t trust, that left very few people to ask. Husk would say no, and probably stop serving you drinks. Angel would most likely agree, but you were a little intimidated by his experience. That left Alastor. While you hadn’t spent much time together, your interactions were always cordial. And plus, this was hell. Isn’t this kind of situation a sinners dream come true?

For most, maybe. But you didn’t know Alastor. Not yet, not really. Everything he did had some ulterior motive. Perhaps nothing he had ever done was simply selfless. If Alastor wasn’t gaining something, Alastor wasn’t interested.

You caught him in the hallway one evening after redemption-oriented activities, deciding to get the moment over with as quickly as possible.

“It’s a favor, little… odd. But you’re the only person I have to ask.” Your eyes darted around his face, down the hall, up the walls, anywhere really but his eyes.

“I’m all ears!” Alastor tapped the microphone to the ground with a satisfying ‘thud’.

Oh— you had rehearsed this but you hadn’t prepared to be staring at that large, toothy grin. It wasn’t unsettling, it was just distracting. Would he be smiling the entire time he… ya know.

“I am,” you steepled your hands, pointing them at him, “a virgin.” You paused, hoping maybe he’d just infer the rest and you could stop talking.

His face was motionless save his eyelids rising up.

“And I don’t want to be. Anymore.” Your lips pursed together. C’mon, Alastor. Figure it out.

Alastor nodded.

You dragged your fingers down your face, “Would you help me with that?”

His head cocked to the side like a golden retriever being handed a book on ancient Egypt. Very nice offer but what exactly do I do with it?

“Help how, precisely?” He finally spoke, tone unchanged from any normal topic of discussion. Alastor watched your face scrunch up, mouth moving around words you abandoned half way through. You weren’t saying anything, just making panicked sounds. “I find annunciation most helpful when wanting to be understood, dear.”

You wanted to somersault out the nearest window. “Alastor will you take my virginity?”

“Take it where?”

You groaned, he laughed, “Just kidding, my dear! All in good fun. So, to be clear, you would like your first sexual experience to be with me?” He pointed the microphone from you to him.

You nodded, “Yes, please.”

His smile seemed to strain. Staring down at you, he tried to understand what your motivation was for this. But as he looked into your big, concerningly innocent eyes, he realized there was none. You really, simply, want him to be the first.

Ooh, as he thought it, he felt his pulse quicken in his lap. The first. A spot no one else could take. For the rest of your afterlife, he would always be the one who was first in you. A delicious thought. He could work with that.

“Are you free now?” He leaned down to your level.

“Oh. I wasn’t-,”

“Expecting immediacy? Perfect, the element of surprise has never failed me before.” His hand wrapped around your waist and drew you in to his chest, there was a rush of cold air over your skin before you felt yourself falling back.

It was soft, the room was dark, save for a small floor lamp in the corner. Your room, you realized.

“I didn’t know you knew my room number.”

“It’s my job to know everything about the hotel.” He said, tossing your shoes behind him. Was this happening now? Right now?

“I can do it, it’s, it’s fine.” You sat up and began undoing your pants. Alastor just standing there, watching. Smiling. Fuck, was it going to be this awkward the entire time? Should you say something? Touch him? You were lifting the hem of your shirt when you realized he was still fully dressed. “Are you going to take off your clothes?”

“Why would I do that?” Head lolled to the side.

You stopped mid-way through unhooking your bra, “Alastor you do know I was asking you to fuck me, right?”

He nodded. Maybe this was a mistake.

After taking off your bra, and finally your panties, you crawled to the top of your bed and drew your knees to your chest. Your feet hid your sex from view. Heart racing, but it wasn’t excitement, as you had anticipated. It was nerves. Would it hurt? Would you make a stupid face? What if he didn’t like the sounds you made? What if you regretted it after?

Alastor got on the bed on his knees, undoing his belt buckle but not his pants. The way he looked at you, your heart skipped a beat. You suddenly remembered he was called the ‘cannibal deer’ as you saw something akin to hunger in his eyes.

“What experience do you have?” His voice was suddenly low, deeper than before. This wasn’t the pun loving radio man you saw prodding the staff.

“I dated. Before. Kissing, um, I don’t know the bases. Groping?” You grimaced, it sounded so formal.

“Have you ever,” he began to slink toward you on his hands and knees, red eyes glowing in the dim light of your room, “been entered?”

Your cheeks burned, your head suddenly swayed as if it was half full of water and someone tipped you over. “Just myself, my,” you lifted your hand.

“Show me.”

All the air left the room, sucked out of your lungs and into his grin.

Uncrossing your feet, you tried to open your thighs without seperating your knees. It didn’t work, but you still managed to get a hand between your legs and to your entrance. You could have cried, you were soaking wet to an embarrassing degree. Your eyes return to Alastor, his gaze never leaving you. Even as you slipped a finger, then two, into yourself. You thought for sure he would want to watch your hands playing with your wet pussy but no, his eyes stayed on your face. Somehow, that was worse.

A shaky sigh escaped, your eyes closing as you tried to focus on relaxing around your digits.

Your head smacked against the headboard when you felt a third finger enter. Not yours. Your eyes flew back open to see him now directly in front of you.

“Two won’t do, dear.” He spun his finger around, pulling slightly at the thin skin of your entrance. “Unless you’d prefer this to hurt?”

You shook your head no, still stinging from the impact you had made. “May I?” His hand took your wrist and removing your fingers. Swiping your wetness from your ass to your clit, he coated his claw-like digits and pushed three back in. They were longer than yours, sharper. You could feel he moved gently, in and out. Your head was heavy, breath short and fast.

He laughed, bringing your consciousness fully back into the room, “Already wanting to change your mind?”

You shook your head side to side, still too embarrassed to speak, and took a grounding breath to help your body accept his fingers. He took his time, sliding in and out of you. His fingers picking up the slick and letting it lubricate your lips. It was so slow, the only pleasure for you was knowing it wasn’t your hand doing it.

But then his stretching of your hole stopped, and he grabbed both of your knees from underneath and pulled you down toward him. Now on your back, legs up and in his hands, you heard his belt slide through the loopholes, his zipper drop. You wanted to look, but you also absolutely did not want to look.

Your knees came together when you felt something hot and round at your entrance. “Ah-ah,” He opened them immediately. He reached for one of your hands, and brought it down to his cock. It was so hard under your fingers, but gave a little when you squeezed. It made him hiss.

“You tell me when to stop, little doe.” He pressed into your opening, pulled back. Pressed in, just barely making it past your lips, pulled back. He kept this pressing and pulling, head making slightly more leeway every time. Your fingers were holding right behind the tip.

“How about this, dear. I’ll just get the head in for now. Manageable!”

“Just— just get the big part in first?” You asked, the pressure at your entrance building with every shallow thrust.

He laughed, nodding as he held both of your knees further apart. When he attempted to get past the curve of his cock’s head, your hands flew down to press against his thigh, pushing back with the intrusion. Alastor stilled, sighed, and pressed his head fully in with a determined thrust. Instinctively, your feet came to his chest and tried to push away from him. It felt like you were being torn down the middle, your body forced apart at your most sensitive junction. He held you still now by the ankles, legs splayed in the air.

It burned where your walls were pushed aside. Stinging where the skin tore slightly just beneath your hole, unable to stretch.

“Breath, sweetheart.” He set your ankles down. “Does it hurt?”

You nodded.

“I’ll stay here for a bit,” he settled on his legs, looking down at where he was connected to you. Your pink little pussy looking positively overwhelmed by his cock. No one has ever been here before, and he could feel it. Your walls were pressing so hard against him his shaft was slightly curved from the force pushing his head out. You still had so much to take, there was so much more of you for him to explore. You tried to calm your breathing but your heart was racking against your sternum.

Hand reaching down again, you let your fingers count little paces from his core to yours. You knew the hardest part was over, but that didn’t bring much comfort as you felt how far you still had to go.

Alastor let his eyes wander away from your not-so-virgin cunt to your face. Your expression was twisted, not pained but clearly uncomfortable.

“How does it feel?” He asked, gesturing to your lap with a nod of his head.

“Full, so full.”

His cackle disheartened you, “Darling I am no where done filling you up.”

You clenched when he said it, earning a small groan from him. You were already too tight, when you spasmed on him it was nearly painful. There was more to do yet, more of you to claim as his. Just the tip of his cock was simply not enough.

His hips started moving again, the folds of his head pulling at the skin of your entrance but not actually crossing the barrier. He was gently rocking, barely making friction between you two. Your hand clawed at his knee, breath hitching. You let an airy moan slip, his head no longer an intrusion but something hot and melty barely rubbing your walls. It started to feel almost good.

Alastor’s cock was throbbing, his shaft touch-starved and desperate for the heat of your cunt. Your face was relaxing now, eyes blinking around new sensations. He wanted to see you experience more, more firsts and frighteningly foreign pleasures. He wanted to see you scared of how good he could make you feel. Alastor wanted you to never feel whole again without him buried balls deep in you.

“Can you take more?” His voice was like gravel, a radio static crackling in.

You met his eyes, glowing still in the dim light, wide and nearly frenzied in their dilation. His smile was practically beaming down at you.

“I don’t know.” You were scared to move forward, even though you wanted more.

“I don’t like liars.” A pop of electricity arcing at the end of his words. You pulled a pillow over your face, trying to hide from the reaction you knew he’d have as his voice made you tighten around him. “Your body says otherwise,” he hissed.

You wanted to say ‘yes’, if this could feel good then how great would all of him feel? But you were scared to vocalize it. Scared to make it start. Alastor lifted the pillow, “I need to see you, dear.” He set it beside his leg, “Do you remember what I said earlier?”

Brow furrowed, you shook your head. His grin widened to his ears as his hands slid down your thighs to your hips and he sank his cock to the hilt.

The element of surprise definitely made the nerves of saying ‘yes’ dissipate, but you were now choking on your breath, hands gripping at the blankets beneath you. Was this normal? Was he too far inside you? You felt nauseous, your guts prodded by Alastor’s member.

“How does it feel now?” He watched your eyes scanning the ceiling for an answer. You felt sure there was no way his head could leave you ever again. It was so snuggly fit in you, you feared you’d be pulled inside out. “Words, dear.”

You sat up on your elbows, sweating from the nerves of it all. “Like there’s a big stick stuck in me.”

“Accurate!” He laughed, and began pulling out. You whined, head dropping back. Almost taking himself out completely, he paused before thrusting back in. The head of his cock dragged against your walls, you could feel him with such detail. Every inch of him leaving impressions behind. Alastor could feel it too, how your soft warmth moved out of his way with every push. How pliable your womb was to his intrusions.

More. You could take more, he was positive of it.

Slowly, your moans began to get louder as the pressure faded into pleasure. Every time he bottomed out, you jumped. Every time he pulled out, you wanted to chase after him with your hips.

Watching your face soften, eyes now watery, Alastor was sure you were relaxed enough. He grabbed the pillow beside him, lifting your ass and sliding it under the small of your back. You didn’t ask, just waited to see what the point was. Dissatisfied, he grabbed another and added it under you.

Your hips were up, ass hanging over the ledge the pillows made, back bent upward. When he began to thrust again, you whinced feeling a new part of you widen for him. “Can you see me?” You looked at him when he said it, but he grabbed your hand and placed it beneath your belly button. When he pushed back in, you could feel his cock beneath your hand. Moving it, you watched your stomach bulge slightly when he was completely sheathed in you.

“Oh fuck-,” your head fell back into the bed, it was too much to feel let alone to watch, “Too deep.”

He hummed an acknowledgement, picking up his pace. “Let me see how you cum.”

Your face was hot, reluctantly bringing your hand to your clit and rubbing.

No, this wasn’t a mistake at all. If anything you regretted not asking sooner.

His thrusts now brought lightning to your core, your finger quickening in speed with the realization of just how good he could feel.

Studying your face still, he adjusted his angle until he saw the muscles in your neck tighten. He knew he found your g-spot, your moans dipping into cries.

“I can’t—,” You couldn’t get over the hump, knowing he was watching you, waiting for you.

“You can”, the lights flickered, his eyes now black with small red pupils illuminating your naked body, “and you will, my dear.” One of his hands stopped pressing finger sized bruises into your hips to instead push your own finger aside. The wide pad of his thumb took over and began thrumming you fast and hard.

That familiar build up of pleasure was stronger than you’d ever felt it, and when it finally snapped your muscles from your thighs to your toes cramped. How long had you been tensing?

You practically sobbed into the crook of your arm, Alastor’s hips slowing but still carrying you through your orgasm. They moved slower and slower, until stopping entirely. His head popped out of you, leaving you feeling hollow. Cold.

Eyes wet and blurry, you looked up at him, “Aren’t you going to finish?”

“If we do everything now, what ‘first’ will we have for tomorrow night? And the night after that?” He smiled, member already hidden away and pants buttoned. Your thighs twitched. “Same time tomorrow, little doe?”

You covered your face with both hands, and nodded.

His big hand came to your head and patted you gently, “Good girl.”

I hope you liked it 🥺 I don’t feel as confident about this one. Fun fact, my first time involved bondage. Very on brand, huh? 💖

༻Masterlist༺

Gonna start calling his dick ‘the element of surprise’. You look tired today! What happened? Oh the element of surprise kept me up all night.

[san8ny]

can you pls write nerdy ellie? it can be sfw or nsfw

HOT! HOT!

?: Ellie is alot of things: She’s well articulated, She’s liked around campus, but for the life of her, she cannot get laid. It’s gotten pretty embarrassing, maybe you can help? - NSFW - Excuse me for any spell checks!

!: My mutuals have really yummy fics about nerd!Ellie so please let me know if you’d like any recommendations. - Thank you for your anon, means sm to me baby

You stare at her with an incredulous expression, the sight alone being one of pure unbridled shock upon this new-found discovery.

“Never?”

“Never.”

She reaffirms after you, running a nervous hand through her auburn tresses to ease the silent tension in the air. Ellie Williams, all around “good at fucking anything,” is a virgin. The thought alone was something that poked curiosity and incredulity. You knew she was quite kept to herself, often times busying with books and videogames, but this was something you didn’t expect. I mean, she was with Dina at one point.

You don’t want to make her make her more uncomfortable than the topic is, so you give her some form of comfort; “It’s quite normal, honestly, I don’t even blame you in this society.”

That earns you a laugh and a slight snort from her, throwing her head slightly back. “Yeah?”

You return a chuckle, shrugging, “Yeah, but you’ve atleast kissed before, right?

She immediately quiets down, olive-toned cheeks flushing with a light wash of embarrassment.

Holy fuck.

If you weren’t shocked before, you were gawking now.

“D-don’t look at me like that, man..” She groans, tossing her glasses onto the coffee table as she buries her face in a nearby decorative throw-pillow. “No, no— I don’t mean in a bad way, just surprised.”

“Surprised?” She murmurs softly, staring at the dim dorm lightbulb that hangs above them, “That’s a first. Dina usually calls me forcibly celibate.”

You want to curse yourself at the noise you let out, eyes watering as you slap your mouth with a cupped palm. Ellie side-eyes you with a scoff as she gets up from her seat, “Yeah, Yeah, Alright—“

“I’ll be serious! I promise.” You call out, reaching for her wrist to sit her back down, to which she does.

“Have you ever, like, considered it, though?”

Her interest piques at this turn, reaching for her glasses back, “What? Having sex?”

Well, duh.

Ellie hums, thinking about it for a second, “I wouldn’t be opposed to it..” She trails off, wiping her lenses with the corner of her graphic-tee, before putting them on. “Only to someone I really like.”

“Aw, that’s actually really sweet, I actually had a friend once who—

“Which is why I want you to fuck me.” She bluntly puts, staring at you four-eyed.

. . .

“Come again?” You cock your head out, “You want me to..?”

She inches forward, nodding like a bobblehead, “Yeah! It makes sense. You’re my friend, and I like you, so it’ll work.” You sigh, shaking your head, “Ells, it doesn’t work like that. What if you regret it?”

“So you’d agree to it if I don’t regret it?” She smiles, tone a bit ecstatic as she sees you entertain the idea.

She really was putting you on the spot, huh?

You stare at her for a bit, studying her face. She seemed enthusiastic about getting the opportunity to even lay hands on your soft skin. Saying you were pretty was an understatement, you were the epitome of wet-dreams; She was head over heels pretty much in-love with you, and the idea of even losing such a prize position like her virginity to you symbolized things she could only dream about.

You roll your eyes as you both kneel on her mattress, her fiddling with your bra like it’s the most complicated thing. “This shit is a death machine, holy smokes.”

Holy smokes?

When she finally succeeds, she’s jittery and giggling to herself, scooting back into the pillows to get a good look at your beautiful breasts. “They’re so fucking hot, ohmygod..” Next thing you know, she’s cupping them softly, kneading the fleshy dough in circular motions, gaze fixed on the way your back arches ever so slightly, eyes fluttering. So she is doing something, right?

She leans her head down, giving your perked areolas experimental licks, opting to suckle them when you give her the green. Your hand finds itself buried in her hair, massaging her tender scalp while she works her tongue on your sensitive buds, closing her own eyes at the pure idea she might be making you feel good.

After a while, you pull her off your tits, pushing her down onto the sheets as she looks at you confused. Poor baby doesn’t understand sex is transactional because she’s too busy giving you her all. You smile softly, leaning over her, legs on each side of her torso as you give her a kiss on the lips, the brief ‘smooch’ sound music to her ears as she opens her heavy lidded eyes back again; they’re filled with neediness, a surge of wanting to be touched more.

By the time you’ve readied her for the real thing, littering her body in soft bruising marks, her voice slightly higher pitched with each ‘uhn!’ she lets out, brows scrunched together and lips slightly ajar, coated in a sheen of saliva from how you kiss her with reassurance you’ll take care of her— she’s telling you with pants, no, begging— “P-please, baby? ‘Can’t take it anymore..”

She means her bottoms, fabric cruely soaked and covered in her own arousal from all the attention you’ve been giving her; Ellie feels lightheaded, tears brimming her crinkled eyes when you thumb her through her boxers. However, words cannot explain the feeling that rushes through her when you lean down and lick a fat strip through the cloth, eyes locked on hers. She hiccups a gasp, shuddering as the cold air hits her mound when you pull the elastic band from the side.

“I wanted to eat it through it, but I think you’re a bit impatient for that, so i’ll cut to what you want.” You whisper, warm breath fanning over her sensitive pussy. By the time you dig in, she’s whining at volumes you literally need to reach up her torso and cover her mouth.

“Uhn! Uhn—! F-fuck—?”

What sorcery did you have on her? Genuinely? She can’t believe she’s been withholding herself from such pleasure, your tongue trudging through her gummy folds making her want to die and come back again. She can barely even think straight, letting out muffled wails against your hand, saliva seeping through and rolling down your wrist in dribbles. You’d be disgusted, but the sight alone boosts your ego, you had her whipped.

Was it mentioned she’s already orgasmed before you even went near her cunt? That’s right, she already came once while you two were kissing. You definitely knew she’d atleast finish early, but damn were you surprised when she shook against you, humming against your lips rhythmatically.

“Am I making you feel good, baby? Can you talk f’me?”

She could barely hear you, and here you were, asking damn questions. Nonetheless, she gives you a small huff in response; alluding that she was somewhat conscious.

Once you deliver her to cum, she’s shivering against the sheets, balling her fists up as you rip both a cry, and orgasm out of her. “A-Ahnnnn..?!.”

Rest of the night, you two went at it like animals; Ellie insisting you teach her everything there was to know about sex in a singular sitting— ..fucking? To say you both tired eachother out would be an underemphasis.

You ruined her.

When you both seemingly knock out, well, atleast you, she slowly sits up, biting her bottom lip in anticipation as she gazes around your naked body, you were gonna sleep over..

She seems more excited at the prospect you’ll stay the night than the fact you two have been literally keeping the entire female dormitory quarters up— likely going to be hit with a personal visit by the RA.

Who cares, not Ellie for sure. She’ll happily flaunt the fact she’s (finally) got some, just to show off.

God, was she a geek.

[miumura]

━━━ NERD JAKE . . .

| nerd!jake headcanons >< |

pairing nerd!jake x gn!reader genre fluff

warnings none? word count 0.8k+ ( 844 words )

💬 — NERD JAKE BRAINROT the voices have spoken to me and told me to write this. guys you don’t understand how much i live for nerd!jake works … like i don’t know but they are just probably a guilty pleasure of mines 🤓 so you knowww i also had to do something about it !! enjoy <3

NERD JAKE who apologized a million times after bumping into you in the hallway, hurried to pick up your books instead of his scattered papers.

NERD JAKE who became rather flustered when you crouched down to help him, picking up his papers with an apology and a small "thank you” when he gave back the textbooks you dropped.

NERD JAKE who often takes a few glances at your work, purposefully lets you see his so you can correct your answers or ask him for help with anything specific.

NERD JAKE who easily tenses up when your arms touch, breathing sharply as you peek over his shoulder to compare his work with yours, his face turning a shade of pink as he tries to maintain his focus.

NERD JAKE who wears the biggest grin on his face while talking about topics he finds interesting, often uses hand movements to emphasize his words.

NERD JAKE who immediately turns off his phone after sending you a text message, gets overwhelmed with thoughts of whether he came off weirdly or said the wrong things, already considering unsending it.

NERD JAKE who always answers your text messages within the same minute, smiles to himself as you both talk about random things, often leading to late-night conversations.

NERD JAKE who offers to tutor you in the classes you're struggling with, is motivated mainly by the chance to spend more time with you — but also being able to help you too, of course.

NERD JAKE who loves your compliments and praises, is motivated to work even harder to impress you with his knowledge.

NERD JAKE who talks about how smart you are whenever he sees you frustrated with a problem, but often ends up rambling about how great he thinks you are, sometimes leading to his own embarrassment.

NERD JAKE who lets you sleep on his shoulder while he finishes the rest of your assignments.

NERD JAKE who always looks at you when the teacher explains there’s pair work, hoping you’d want to be his partner too.

NERD JAKE who listens to you attentively, making sure to remember to jot down your likes and dislikes later.

NERD JAKE who has a soft spot for you, unable to refuse anything you ask of him, even if it might get him into trouble.

NERD JAKE who keeps all the little notes you two passed around in class in a special box, often revisiting and rereading them whenever he misses you.

NERD JAKE who tries to focus on his studies, but his mind keeps drifting back to you, causing him to eventually plant his head on his desk, scattered with papers.

NERD JAKE who masks the things he does for you as friendly gestures to avoid feeling overwhelmed by the thought of potentially liking you, convincing himself it’s just being a good friend while his heart says otherwise.

NERD JAKE who can’t help but feel slightly jealous when you hang out with someone else, knows he can’t do anything about it and is left pouting.

NERD JAKE who comes up with random excuses whenever you ask to meet up, knows how much he wants to but can't let his feelings grow, especially after seeing you with another guy.

NERD JAKE who focuses on just admiring you from afar, doesn't want to take up too much of your time from your friends at school.

NERD JAKE who leaves an empty classroom with his face a red mess after you confront him about being distant and confess your feelings for him, his heart racing as he tries to process everything.

NERD JAKE who goes home and lies in bed thinking about the incident, replays the moment over and over in his mind before covering his head with his pillow and screaming into it in frustration and embarrassment.

NERD JAKE who stutters while trying to ask you out on a date, nervously fiddling his fingers as he waits for your answer.

NERD JAKE who spends so much time going through his closet trying to find the perfect outfit for the date, heavily debates whether he should wear one of his flannels.

NERD JAKE who gives himself pep talks, practicing to avoid fumbling his words and preparing enough conversation topics to ensure the date won't be awkward.

NERD JAKE who arrives at your house with a bouquet of flowers, complimenting your appearance with a gaze filled with admiration and nervous excitement.

NERD JAKE who spontaneously makes up jokes just to hear your laughter, cherishing the moments when he can bring a smile to your face.

NERD JAKE who completely loses his composure after you kiss him on the cheek, visibly flustered as he touches his face, wondering if he's actually dreaming.

NERD JAKE who walks you home, staying until he sees you safely enter your house before he heads off, a smile lingering on his face.

NERD JAKE who gathers all his courage to ask if he could be your boyfriend, his heart pounding with anticipation as he waits for your response, having poured his feelings into a website created just for this moment.

NERD JAKE who has been captivated by you since the moment you bumped into him, his thoughts fixated on you from the start.

💭 — should i make more works like these because these are lowkey fun to write 👀

enhypen perm taglist is open ; comment or send an ask !

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

[wardenparker]

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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[pupyuj]

sudden thought abt a stripper au,, like dom stripper reader and nerd (loser<3) virgin yujin.. yjn friends convincing her to go after exam week and yn having a weak spot cause yujin was so easy to get flushed arrrghg😩

im making this g!p IDCCCC IT'S SO PERFECTJDBCKFFJ YUJIN 🤤🤤🤤 idk how strippers operate so i kinda just .. did anything 😭😭😭😭😭😭 but thank you for this ask anon i was smiling the entire time writing it dkfnjfkdj

yujin really didn't wanna go there 😭 sure exam week ended but she still had lots to worry about, and the concept of having to 'unwind' and 'relax' just simply didn't exact to an overachiever like her, so she was pretty much fighting her friends about the whole thing until she finally caved in cuz she's spineless after all WHAT A LEWSERRRR 🤣🤣🤣 gaeul walking yujin through what she should do once she arrived at the club over the phone while yujin herself was otw there 😭 yujin asking a bunch of stupid questions and nearly choking on her spit when gaeul told her to 'get her virgin dick sucked dry by a hot girl'... she wasn't exactly a prude but god sometimes gaeul can be so... vulgar...

yujin stepping inside the club with her stupid glasses, academic decathlon varsity jacket, and a messenger bag that had a book inside.. who the fuck reads at a club???? her face immediately scrunching up at the sight of men, the smell of sweat and alcohol, and— oh god... there you were in the distance.. dancing in a sparkly dress that was too short, your lacy lingerie showing just a little bit to get the crowd riled up, smiling and winking as the losers at the bottom of the stage throwing bills at you... yujin was so hard.

JSJDNDKFJF YUJIN RUSHING TO THE BATHROOM, LOCKING HERSELF UP IN A STALL AND CONTACTING GAEUL 😭😭😭 gay panicking to the max, babbling about the prettiest girl she has ever seen and refusing to leave the stall and 'seize the moment' like gaeul was saying bcs of her hard on 😭 gaeul basically bullying yujin to fucking go back out there and try to catch your attention 😵‍💫 and yknow what... she does! there you were, doing what you do best on stage when you suddenly take notice of this unbelievably cute girl staring dumbly at you, her mouth slightly agape and legs closed tightly which of course you knew what that meant.. and usually you would grimace bcs you hated perverts but this girl was just too adorable to hate 😩😩

yujin's glasses being halfway down her nosehdjfhfkf, she was practically drooling and nearly suffered a heart attack when you winked her way. clutching onto her bag for dear life, which she used as a cover for her cock bcs goddamn she has never been this hard before... how can she even leave her seat without being noticed??! sjdbfkdkc yujinnie feeling overwhelmed by what you did to her body, and also the stench of men all around her so she runs for the bar bcs at least there wasn't a lot of people there :(( but you still watched her, and she still looked at you and god you were basically eyefucking each other yujin could have come in her pants right there 😭😭😭

omgomgkmf inviting yujin to a private room after your little performance ,, the loser almost literally shaking in her boots when she saw you sitting near the edge of the bed, already looking at her like you want to eat her whole... one leg crossed over the other, wearing a different dress this time but it wasn't any less slutty than the last,, yujin felt like she was losing her mind,,,

"figured you'd be cuter up close," were the first words you said to her, raising your chin and scanning her up and down. omg yujin could explode,,, timidly settling down next to you when you invited her, having to scoot closer bcs she sat far away 😭 "i'd like to know your name, darling." KHSDKBK yujin barely uttering a word but thankfully enough you were used to people biting their tongue around you so you understood her immediately .. patting her thigh and telling her to relax,, climbing onto the bed and coming up behind her,,, taking off her bag, slowly pulling off her jacket, coming close to her ear.. breathing down her neck while she leans back into you,, oh she was helpless, and now she couldn't hide her boner,, not when you were literally cupping it in your hands, chuckling softly in her ear when she whimpered,,

poor baby has never had her cock touched by anyone before :((( so she couldn't help but want more :(( "aw, baby, you need a lot of help, don't you? look how hard you are..." you were saying, watching as her dick grew and grew inside her pants sjdbffjfjjf making her take off her pants only,, the sight of this girl's big cock poking through her boxers, stained with precum, did things to your body but you had to be professional... after all, you couldn't just give your body away for free 👀

"ah, right. i'm still at work," yujin nearly whined when you separated from her and left the bed . standing in front of yujin, who was breathing heavily, fogging up her glasses, hair kind of a mess around her face but she was still the cutest thing you have ever seen 😩😩 "one rule: no touching, yet. be good and i'll reward you handsomely, yujin-ssi, deal?" you asked as you unzipped your dress . yujin nodded desperately, and you could swear you could just reach over and pinch her cheeks . but no, you had a job to do! 😤

yujin's jaw dropping slightly when your dress slid down your body, leaving you in your lingerie that gave yujin many many thoughts... thoughts of her ripping that bra off your body and feeling your tits in her hands, very vivid thoughts of her pulling your panties to the side and fucking your ass,, but no touching, you said... and yujin could definitely be a good girl, for now! 😏

the big loser staying frozen in her seat while you danced around her 😭 she kept her hands tucked underneath your thighs, doing everything in her power to bite down a moan as you pushed your ass against her bulge.. she was feeling dizzy... she could now see why gaeul loved these kinds of things so much 😵‍💫 turning around and straddling her, hands all over her toned body while you grinded your pussy on her cock... you couldn't resist holding the girl's face and kissing her, which you didn't normally do considering your customers didn't behave half as well as she did 😳😳 she was a good kisser too.. bravely pushing her tongue inside your mouth, actually making you moan.. then you're leaving kisses on her cheek, her jawline, her neck where you made sure to leave a mark.. and then you feel her body tense up, and you're hearing her moan...

"love, did you just come?" you asked with a laugh sjdbfjksf yujin hiding her face in your chest, ears all red, and that was all you needed to know 😭😭😭 "aww... i guess it is about time, anyway. you did a good job." you pet the girl's head before getting off her lap, and then you kneeled down on the floor, smiling innocently at the girl while you slowly pulled off her boxers.. dear god was her cock big!

"w-w-what are you about to do...?" she asked, both scared and horny out of her mind.

"you'll see."

and then yujin was whimpering :(( clutching the bedsheets tightly while you stroked her cock :(( then you leaned in and licked off her cum from earlier, making the girl moan loudly at the feeling of your tongue on her dick for the first time 😵‍💫 baby was so sensitive 🥺 nearly crying bcs it all just felt too good, losing her head when you circled her tip with your tongue,,, just falling in love with her voice and how cute she was making the smallest noises when you do anything at all🥺🥺

finally taking her cock in your mouth.. the poor girl struggling to keep her noises in 😵‍💫 head thrown back, legs already quivering, shaking her head as you steadily took in all of her length.. mistaking that action as the baby not liking this at all, so you pulled away, concerned :(

"would you like for me to stop?"

"w-what? no, i... it felt good.. do you want to stop? cuz i can l-leave if you don't actually want to do this... i wouldn't want to force you or anything..." oh, she was too cuteeee :(((((

ofc you didn't want to stop, this girl's cock was to die for.. so you went back onto slowly sucking her off, sometimes looking up to have a glimpse of her face, all flushed and red... "unnie, you're r-really pretty..." she says suddenly??? 😭😭😭 if it were anybody else, you would have rolled your eyes but something about this girl just made your heart skip a beat :((

finally moving your head up and down at a moderate pace, yujin's fingers threading your hair and she was moaning so much 🥺 "unnie.. unnie..!" such an endearing girl! 😵‍💫😵‍💫 yujinnie being driven by pleasure alone that she puts both of hands on your head and started controlling your pace.. all she wanted now was to come in her pretty unnie's mouth, so she was moving you fast, grunting as she dug her nails into your scalp... you didn't mind the pain at all, you wanted this girl's cum down your throat 😳

choking a bit while yujin finally came, the girl holding your mouth down on her cock not really realizing that it had gotten hard to swallow considering you could barely breathe sjdbfjisfk "oh! s-shit, sorry unnie... i'm sorry..." she was saying after you've forced yourself out of her hold,, see you should be pissed bcs she made a mess out of you but you were smiling at her, you might have a little crush now!

and ofc you cleaned her up with your tongue, you would be crazy to waste her cum 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 helping the loser put her jacket back on, feeling your chest warm up when she shyly pulled you in and kissed you 🥺 "unnie... can i see you again?" she was asking as if this was a first date 😭😭 you really could not express enough how cute she really was.

"of course. just ask for '(y/n)', and i'll be here."

yujin smiles widely "(y/n)... (y/n)-unnie... okay!"

it was safe to say that you crumpled up into a ball, giggling to yourself after she left 😩 it was the yujin effect 🤭🤭

[starhrtz]

꒰ ৎ୭ ꒱ . . ⠀𝖫𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖦𝗎𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝖿𝗍. 𝖧𝗎 𝖳𝖺𝗈 ‹𝟹

𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌. Xiao (𝖿𝗍. 𝖧𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗈)

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌. 𝗆𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾 𝗈𝗈𝖼 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 :')

𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒. 𝖺 𝗀𝗎𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖷𝗂𝖺𝗈, 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝖻𝗒 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗄𝖺 𝖧𝗎 𝖳𝖺𝗈!

𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍. 1180

𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾. 𝖨 𝗀𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝖽... </3

He didn't plan for this to happen especially on a school day.

Xiao thought it was just another day of school, the same boring schedule which he had grown used to for the past 2 years yet before he could even take a bite of his well deserved lunch a notebook was shoved into his face by none other than Hu Tao, a middle school friend of his. Hu Tao was definitely the opposite of Xiao's calm yet distant personality, she was energetic and interacted with almost everyone even though some found her a bit much at times he didn't mind her company at all and was rather… entertained at the stories she told him about her encounters in the early mornings.

He raised a brow at the notebook that Hu Tao was excitedly flipping through the pages of, did she steal someone's diary? Xiangling's or Chongyun's person, Hu Tao did love teasing them a lot after all. Perhaps sensing Xiao's intense stare at her, Hu Tao giggled before flipping to the right page of her physic's notebook. Except instead of writing down notes, Xiao saw what she wrote was… how can he confess to you?! He shot her a glare, oh how regretted telling her about his crush on you but he honestly didn't want to tell Venti or Zhongli mostly because the former acted like a drunk person half the time and the latter because he felt Zhongli didn't have much expertise in the love department.

"Oh don't look at me like that~! It's time you stop making googly eyes! Seriously I can run to the art club to get those googly eyes and compare it to your eyes whenever you look at (Y/n)! There wouldn't be a difference at all."

Hu Tao joked having seen Xiao dazing off whenever you were in his view, let's just say you caused him to walk into a lot of poles and walls during school hours. Xiao sighed before nodding, it wouldn't hurt to try right? Maybe you might like him back as well?

01: Share about your hobbies.

He took a deep breath in and out as Hu Tao pushed him closer to you, you noticed a shadow towering over you as you looked up to see Xiao who was slightly red and his brows furrowed. "Ah, Hello Xiao!" you greeted as you turned off your phone, as Xiao looked down slightly and said a soft hi while scratching his neck. Xiao didn't share much hobbies since all he did when he got home was homework and studying which Hu Tao would boo at saying he needs to do something fun instead of being such a nerd.

"I.. I.."

Xiao was stuttering as he tried to find the right words so he doesn't seem like a boring person in front of you even when he was stuttering he was doing it under his breath which made was incoherent in your point of view but you were patient enough to wait for him as to what he have to say. Before he was about to say he enjoyed gaming, the bell rang signalling the next class was about to start. He slightly cursed at himself as you excused yourself to head to your next class.

Before he could leave to also attend his next class, he saw Hu Tao sighing and slapping her forehead with her hand as she saw the failed interaction between you and Xiao.

"You know, you could have walked (Y/n) to their class right."

02. Ask help for something.

"You sure this is going to work?

Xiao asked, unsure, he was still slightly embarrassed from what had happened during lunch since he was sure he made a complete fool of himself in your eyes." You worry too much, (Y/n)'s nice so don't doubt me!" Hu Tao affirmed Xiao as she continued stacking books in his hands, and right on time you came in talking with Xiangling and Yunjin. Upon spotting Xiao, you immediately waved to him. Of course that was before you saw he was holding a stack of books so he couldn't even wave or see you, Hu Tao was nowhere to be seen… Wait, even Xiangling and Yunjin weren't present but they were just right next to you? You sighed as you shook your head before lifting a few books that were covering Xiao's face, without books covering his eyesight now he was greeted with you smiling brightly at him.

"Did Hu Tao make you carry all her books to her next class?"

You asked, laughing a bit in which Xiao nodded right this was his time to start a conversation with you! "Hu Tao told me you played a lot of games these past few days and you have been doing your assignments at the last minute." Xiao stated trying to remember what Hu Tao had told him about you, but of course what he said was something rather… negative yet you paid no mind to it and laughed it off. "She said that? I mean she isn't wrong, although I think she isn't one to speak." You replied as both of you recalled how Hu Tao would text you both at 12am asking for answers.

Part two of this guide seemed to go well!

03: Let it slip out that you like them when they are near.

"Are you insane…"

Xiao mumbled as he closed the notebook, just as he was trusting this little guide Hu tao did a 360° on him and wrote something like this. Hu Tao rolled her eyes, he hasn't really changed since middle school has he?

"Alright Alright, gee you're no fun."

Hu Tao huffed, as she flipped to the next page which she was sure would make both you and Xiao a couple.

"You should really study instead of helping me with your love life,and isn't your physics teacher going to check your notebook?"

"Hey! That's not something you should say to your matchmaker! Plus that teacher sucks to the point I don't even remember her name!"

04: Walk them home.

As Xiao ended class, he was surprised to see you standing outside the door waiting for him. As both of you walked to your home, there was silence between you both yet it wasn't awkward the slightest it was rather comforting.

"So how was Hu Tao's little guide?"

Your question broke the silence between you both as Xiao stopped in his tracks and his body stiffened as he looked at you with wide eyes. "How… How did you know?" Xiao asked, he was curious yet nervous for some reason perhaps the fear of rejection? And you finally explained that you saw Hu Tao writing something down in her notebook, of course when she saw that you were looking she immediately pleaded you don't tell the teacher and confessed about the guide. Xiao was stunned by the story which made you chuckle.

"Well, see you tomorrow Xiao~!"

You waved goodbye but not before stealing a kiss on Xiao's cheek leaving him a red mess in the end.

© astrinityy — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works!!

[hitomisuzuya]

Omg pls this idea has been on my mind forever. Fem! Reader making fun of wanderer for having smaller hands compared to readers but then in closed doors Wanderer fingers them like crazy and degrades them 😳😳 taunting them as well for saying hes got smaller hands and such

a/n: Oh my my, what a delicious ask😳 I hope you enjoy, anon❤️ I hope this wasn't too much. also, do the gifs look blurry to anyone. I always worry about it. Please let me know if they do so I can start grabbing them off of Google instead.

Wanderer x fem!reader. Smut. Fingering. Degradation and taunts.

It started with a simple jest, all in the name of teasing. You couldn't help yourself. It was so easy to ruffle Wanderer's feathers. "Your hands, they are so small," you giggled, "I think they might be smaller than mine"

Before you could press your hand flat against his for a size comparison, Wanderer scoffed, yanking his hand away. "Whatever, I know you have stuff to do today for Nahida. Hurry up and give me your reading list before I change my mind, nerd."

You'd started assisting Nahida in her duties as an Archon. It was the only way you could think of to pay her back for hiding the man you loved hidden safely away from everyone after suffering his defeat at the hands of The Traveler. Nahida told you it wasn't necessary, but you insisted. Your knowledge of humans and how they act would help her out, even having you act as her vessel a few times to speak to people.

Wanderer had offered to check some books out of the library for you. He had nothing going on all day, spending his time walking through the wilderness while you were with Nahida.

You found the books in a bag on your bed later that afternoon. The titles varied, some books about the history of Sumeru. Some Akademiya essays. And one just for yourself. Wanderer would've labelled it as a dumb romance novel.

Your eyes speed through the words printed on the page, your cheeks flushing. You looked around your room. Wanderer wasn't back yet, so....

There were curious noises coming from your room. Ones Wanderer was very familiar with. He opened the door. There you were, pleasuring yourself, moaning his name as you thought of him doing the things you'd read in the book to you.

You yelped when you saw him, hastily pulling your fingers out of your dripping hole. "Go on, don't stop on my account," he taunted, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

You were frozen like a deer in headlights. Embarrassed you looked away from him. You know what a shit eating smirk looks like? That's the expression on his face. "or is it because you can't get yourself off? What's wrong, y/n, can't reach your fun spots with your fingers? And you said I had small hands."

Sitting down on the bed, Wanderer picked up the hand you'd been fingering yourself with. He licked your slick off them, biting down on the tips for a moment.

"I..I..ahhhh," a stammer was all you could manage as he buried his fingers inside you. You'd already made such a mess of yourself that his fingers slid easily against your walls, immediately hitting your sweet spot.

Your clit swelled with blood at the sudden stimulation, making you grind up into his fingers. His pace quickened, his eyes never once leaving your's. "You stupid slut, your pussy is practically sucking my fingers inside."

Every hook of his fingers against your g-spot drew a louder, lewder moan from you. His pace was ruthless, his fingers making wet noises fill the room. "Ha, you are almost there aren't you? It must be such a relief for you to have your pussy stuffed by my small hands." He practically spat the word small.

"Wanderer I'm sorry! I-AH- gonna cum," you babbled, bucking your hips up in time with his thrusts.

"Then cum, you needy whore. Maybe next time, you'll think twice before insulting me."

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Lightning Bug - Chapter 5

Previous Chapter // Master poster for Lightning Bug 

Warnings: self-harm, self-doubt, physical abuse, panic attack  

Word Count: 5.3K

“Wake up!” Kate said, knocking on America’s door. “Wake up!” No answer from the teen on the other side. Kate groaned, leaning her head against the wall. Yelena yawned, stretching her arms above her head. She wished she was back in bed but the archer dragged her out. 

“Maybe she’s already up.” The Russian suggested. 

“It’s tradition,” Kate said. “Every time one of us comes back from a mission we have breakfast together.” Yelena had to stop herself from laughing at the pout on her girlfriend’s face. Instead, she wrapped her arms around her waist and rested her head on Kate’s back. Physical touch was Yelena’s love language but after years of experiencing pain by the hands of others she was still learning to trust. Immediately, the archer relaxed into her girlfriend’s arms. 

“Maybe she’s with her new friend. Did you see the glances she was trying to be subtle about?” Kate spun around in Yelena’s hold. She had a mischievous smile on her face, a look Yelena had seen when on her and Peter when they were up to no good. 

“Do you think our little America has a crush?” Yelena shrugged. She was still hesitant on accepting a stranger into a place she finally felt safe in but with chocolate and dogs they found some common ground. “Well then we have to have breakfast to question her.” Kate wiggled her way out of the Black Widow’s arms. 

“Wait,” but it was too late, the young Hawkeye resumed banging on America’s door. “Der’mo (shit).” Yelena mumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose. The teen’s door swung open and Kate’s hand stopped midair before she accidentally punched America. 

“The building better be on fire.” She looked like she just rolled out of bed. 

“Nope,” Kate said, popping the ‘p’. She linked her arm with America’s and dragged her to the kitchen. “But it is breakfast time.” Yelena chuckled, closed the teen’s door, and followed the pair into the kitchen. America clumped into a chair while Kate started on the coffee. “I want to know all the details on your relationship with Y/n.” The mention of the newest addition caused America to perk up but her cheeks blushed. 

“Woah. Time out. What are you talking about? We are just friends.” As a widow, Yelena was trained in the art of reading body language. It was a vital part of her job but she knew it didn’t take a trained Widow to see that America was developing some sort of feelings for the girl. 

“Yes friends,” she said simply. “You and I are friends and I don’t blush like you just did when I think about you.” America stared at the blonde, mouth open slightly as if her brain was trying to comprehend what she just said. 

“Well I’m offended. I thought our relationship was really going somewhere.” Yelena rolled her eyes, flicking the forehead of the young girl in front of her. America rubbed the spot she hit. “But seriously we are just friends. She’s been through a lot and she needs a friend before anything else.” Yelena understood that feeling and she felt a little bad about teasing her but it was payback when America teased her before she started dating Kate. 

“So you don’t mind us inviting her to breakfast.” Kate said, placing a cup of coffee in front of America. America took a sip and shook her head as the archer asked if she was up. 

“It appears Miss. Y/n fell asleep in the library.” FRIDAY answered. America shrugged standing up. 

“You have a crush on a book nerd.” Yelena laughed as America blushed again. The Black Widow made a note to talk to Kate to pull back on the comments a little bit. The trio took the elevator to the common area where Sam was in the kitchen making a smoothie. 

“Look who's back,” he said with a smile. “How was France?” 

“People were shit. The dogs were better.” Yelena said. Sam laughed, shaking his head. 

“Well Vision, Rhodney, and I are going to the training room if you want to join us.” He invited them.  

“Maybe after breakfast.” They continued to the library. The doors were slightly open and Yelena felt the warmth from the fireplace as they walked in. She was fast asleep on the couch, a blanket wrapped tightly around her. 

“Awe cute.” Yelena whispered. America smiled and walked to the other side of the couch. She knelt down but kept her distance, Yelena remembered Natasha said she didn’t like to be touched. 

“Wake up, sleepyhead.” America whispered. “It’s time for breakfast.” She groaned and pulled the blanket over her head. 

“Not hungry.” The teen mumbled. “5 more minutes.”

“Now that's adorable.” The sleepy teen wasn’t expecting another voice and she bolted straight up throwing the blanket off of her. 

“Woah,” America said calmly, putting her hands up. Yelena noticed the small flinch. “It’s just Yelena and Kate.” It took a minute for her to even recognize America sitting in front of her as her shoulders were tense. But soon Yelena watched her body relax and she slowly turned around. 

“Morning,” Kate said. Yelena opted out of saying a morning greeting as she saw the fear still in the young girl’s eyes. 

“Hi,” she said, clearing her throat. “Morning.” 

“We usually go out to a cafe for breakfast.” America said. “None of us are that good in the kitchen.” 

“Oh,” she said. “I can cook.” Yelena’s eyes widen slightly at the confession. “I can cook breakfast.” 

“You-”

“Sounds good.” Yelena said, cutting America off. She nodded and stood up, shutting off the fireplace before exiting the library. 

“We always go out.” America said, waiting a beat before speaking. “Why did you say she can cook?” Yelena crossed her arms against her chest and looked down at her feet. She needed a minute to gather her thoughts - she understood when Natasha said she saw herself in the blue eyed teen. Kate gently nudged her shoulder against Yelena’s sign of comfort. 

“I don’t know what happened to her,” she started. “But I know the feeling, an abused kid dropped in a place where you can finally be safe.” Yelena looked up at America. “She needs to feel like she’s earned this. Her entire life she’s had to work for anything good.” Yelena witnessed it first hand with the Widows she’s saved. They were constantly asking herself or Melina how they could help in exchange for the room they were staying in or the food they could eat. “Allowing her to cook breakfast gives her that sense of responsibility. One day that feeling will go away, just give it time.” America nodded, standing up. 

“Yeah of course. I get that feeling too.” Kate put her hand in Yelena’s hand giving it a squeeze. 

“The tower seems to attract those who need it.” The Black Widow squeezed the archer’s hand back. 

“Come on, let's go eat.”    

*

Once you were in the kitchen on your floor, you let out a shaky breath and forced the bile that was rising in your throat back down. As soon as you woke up and saw America you were transported back into your nightmare. You couldn’t help but flinch when she raised her hands. You went through the cabinets and grabbed pancake mix and a tea bag. While the water was boiling, you made the pancake mix and whisked some eggs. You were more aware of your surroundings so you noticed Yelena, Kate, and America enter the kitchen. “Do you need help?” Kate asked. You heated up two frying pans and chopped some chocolate you found and put in the pancake batter. You shook your head. 

“I’m okay.” They sat down in the empty seats. 

“Did you cook at Java House?” America asked. 

“Wait!” Kate said. “You worked with Annie?” You nodded. “Do you know how to make her beignet?” You gave her a smile. 

“I do.” You paused. “But it’s a secret.” It was a family recipe. You helped her make it one day after a rough night at the homeless shelter. 

“She’d have to kill you if she told you.” The blonde added, sending you a wink in your direction. You giggled as Kate sighed dreamily. 

“It would be so worth it.” You shook your head. 

“I cooked a little.” You answered America. 

“Where did you learn to cook then?” She asked. You flipped a pancake and mixed the eggs. America was a friend you reminded yourself of and if she saw Kate and Yelena as friends were they your friends too? You weren’t sure. But Yelena gave you chocolate and you both liked dogs. You mixed a little sugar in your tea and held the warm mug in your hands.  

“I had to teach myself.” You said simply. “Someone had to feed me.” You turned your back to the trio and focused on the food you were preparing. You didn’t know how to tell them that Sundays (when you weren’t needed to power the church) were your favorite because you were home alone and as long as you cleaned up everything you could cook. You placed the plate of food in front of everyone along with knives and forks. “Sorry if it sucks.” You mumbled, pouring syrup on your own pancakes. 

“This is so good!” Kate said. 

“You're making breakfast now.” America nodded. You smiled down at your plate and heard a door open. 

“Is my job being taken?” Wanda asked, braiding her hair. 

“Only breakfast.” Yelena said. “I like your cooking too much for you to stop altogether.” She had too much pancake in her mouth so it was a little hard to understand. You made enough food on the off chance Natasha and Wanda were going to join. You made Wanda a plate and placed it in the empty spot. 

“Thank you.” You nodded, losing your ability to speak as the witch got close. It was just a dream. It was just a dream. 

“Where is Nat?” Yelena asked. 

“Maria stole her this morning.” Wanda said, taking a bite of her food. “They are right, they are good.” You nodded. It was just a dream. It was just a dream. 

*

America wasn’t sure if it was a good idea for her to meet Sam, Vision, and Rhodey all at the same time, especially in the training room. But once breakfast was cleaned up and put away, Kare invited her to join them. The archer was still recovering but she enjoyed watching the ‘flying boys’ as Tony called them. America was surprised she accepted the invitation. So they walked to the training with Yelena and Kate at the lead and America and Y/n trailing behind. She was fidgeting with the rubber gloves. “You know,” America said slowly. “You don’t have to meet them if you aren’t ready.” She let the statement sit with her for a bite before replying. 

“I know but I live with these people. I can’t ignore them forever.” America nodded. She loved her family but sometimes they could be a lot. As they got closer, the sound of Vision’s beam going off caused her to stop. America gave her a smile as Kate opened the door. “Woah,” she said, stepping into the room. They were playing a makeshift game of monkeys in the middle. Sam and Rhodey were passing a metal frisbee (the size of Steve’s shield) back and forth while Vision tried to hit it. America shut the door and they moved to sit down on the bleachers to watch the game. She had to admit, it was cute. Y/n had a child-like wonder as she watched Sam and Rhodey pass the frisbee. Vision floated in the middle, watching and waiting. As Sam let the frisbee go, Vision shot it and hit his target. The frisbee broke into pieces and fell to the ground. 

“Nice shot Viz.” Kate cheered. The three landed and walked over to them. Sam retracted his wings while Rhodey removed his helmet. 

“Thank you, Miss Bishop.” Vision said. 

“Guys this is Y/n.” America said. She gave a timid wave. “Meet Sam, Vision, and Rhodey.” 

“Nice to meet you, kid.” Rhodey said. 

“It’s good to finally put a name to the face.” Sam said. 

“Hello Miss. Y/n.” She stared at the trio in front of her for a beat. 

“Hi.” She cleared her throat. “Pretty impressive flying up there.” Sam’s smile grew. 

“You’ve seen nothing yet wait till you see Wanda and Tony up there.” He looked at the group. “We are thinking about playing Spud, do you guys want to join?” He asked. 

“Yes!” Kate said, standing up. 

“Kate,” her girlfriend said. “You are recovering from an injury.” The archer rolled her eyes. 

“Cho said no heavy lifting. She said nothing about a little game of Spud.” Kate said, running to the middle of the training room. Yelena tried her best to look annoyed but a found smile appeared on her face as she followed her girlfriend. Sam and Rhodey laughed and joined them. 

“Will you be joining us, Miss. Y/n?” Vision asked. America looked at her. She shook her head.

“I’d like to watch if that’s okay.” She seemed okay, maybe a little shy. America nodded. 

“Let me know if you need anything.” She nodded with a small smile.     

*

You watched as America ran off to join the others and let out a shaky breath. “Can I join you?” Vision asked. You forgot he was standing next to you. You nodded and he sat down, making sure to leave space between you two. “Are you enjoying your time at the tower?” You looked at him, he was looking forward. He looked at you. You were fixated by the stone in his forehead. The colors seemed to swirl inside it. You blushed, quickly looking forward. 

“It’s okay. A little different from what I’m used to.” He nodded. 

“This is the only home I’ve known.” He said simply. 

“Do you enjoy it here?” You asked him. 

“I think I do.” His answer confused you. “A home requires an emotional connection and a sense of belonging.” He looked at you and this time you didn’t look away. “The tower fulfills those requirements.” 

“I guess it does.” He smiled. 

“Then welcome home, Miss. Y/n.” 

“Viz, are you joining?” Kate asked. 

“I do apologize,” he said, standing up. “I hope we talk again.” Vision joined the others before you could respond. You weren’t sure if Vision was right, did you belong here? Worthless. Killer. Disgrace. Monster. You squeezed your hands into a fist and focused on the game. Sam had a red ball in his hand and threw it high into the sky. 

“4.” FRIDAY called out and Yelena ran to catch it. She caught it easily and everyone froze. The Russian threw the ball at America, who ducked out of the way and she stuck her tongue out at Yelena as she ran over to get the ball and throw it again. “2.” FRIDAY said again. Rhodey ran to catch it and the game continued. Each time someone threw it in the air, the AI said another number. They were laughing and joking around with one another. But their voices kept getting louder and louder as adrenaline was pumping through them. You let out another shaky breath. You wanted to leave, escape to someplace quiet but you felt frozen to the spot. 

“Hey,” America appeared in front of you. “I want to show you the roof. Do you want to get out of here?” She asked. 

“Uh sure.” She smiled. You followed her close behind out of the training room and to the elevator. 

*

America held open the door to the roof so you could walk past her. The window was blowing as it wasn’t obstructed by the other buildings. It sent a shiver down your spine. She closed the door and sat down in an empty chair. She pointed to the chair next to her, a silent way of asking you to join her. You sat down looking up at the blue sky. “Coming up here at night is my favorite.” America said. “The city lights and you can see some stairs.” A mutual silence based. It wasn’t awkward, which you were grateful for. Being up here was helping, the tight feeling in your chest was fading. “Can I ask you a question?” America asked. You nodded. She looked down at her hands. “This morning,” she started slowly. “When I woke you up you looked scared. Did you have a nightmare.” You couldn’t look at her but you nodded. “Was I in it?” You didn’t answer but your silence was all she needed. “What happened?”

“Doesn’t matter,” You said. “It wasn’t you.”

“Of course it matters. It’s better to talk about it then keep it in.” America paused. “I have them.” You finally looked at her. She was looking towards the city skyline. “They are about my mistakes and people who have tried to hurt me.” Your stomach dropped at her confession. She looked back at you. “They aren’t fun.”

“No,” Your voice cracked. You cleared your throat. “They aren’t.” You sighed and ran your hands up and down your legs. “I haven’t had one in a really long time.” You confessed. “On the streets I never felt safe enough to fully fall asleep but here.” You trailed off. 

“You feel safe.” You shrugged. 

“Maybe. I don’t know.” You looked down at the roof. “My dream took something that happened to me but added you, Natasha, and Wanda.” 

“And in your mind, they hurt you.” She concluded. You slowly nodded. “It won’t happen. You are safe here.” She said it with so much conviction that you almost believed her. ‘You are a parasite. You attach yourself to good people and kill them.’ “You don’t believe me, do you?” She asked. You folded your hands and leaned forward on your knees. 

“Bad things follow me.” You whispered. “To me or the people around me.” Before America could answer, the door opened. You turned around at the sound and saw Natasha standing there. 

“FRIDAY said I’d find you up here.” She closed the door and closed the gap between you and her. “Everything alright?” She asked. You looked away from the Russian. 

“Yeah,” America responded. “We are just talking.”

“Okay,” she said slowly if she didn’t believe her. “I was wondering if you want to go shopping for stuff in your room. You can join us.” You stole a glance at America as she shook her head. 

“Kate and I have plans but thank you.” She looked at you. “I’ll see you later.” You nodded as she stood up and left the roof. The Black Widow took her spot. 

“I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about it.”

“You would be correct.”

“Shopping makes me feel better especially when it’s not my money.” You watched as she pulled out a credit card from her pocket. You made out Tony’s name on the card. “He has enough money.” You gave her a small smile. “Let’s go kid.”

*

You weren’t sure what to get as Natasha pushed the cart down the isle of the Target’s Home Decor section. This was the first time you’ve had a room to call your own. It was also the first time in a Target. Natasha was patient, she let you look at everything for as long as you needed. She didn’t make any remarks on the few items you did choose which you were grateful for. You stood at the poster section, skimming through the options they had. “Yelena told me you met some of the guys today.” You nodded, not looking at the Black Widow. “How did it go?” She asked. 

“They seem nice.” You picked a poster that allowed you to scratch off books as you read them. “Vision is..” You trailed off not really knowing how to describe him. 

“Unique.” Natasha said. You smiled. 

“He was nice to me. He asked me how I was enjoying my time at the tower and welcomed me home.” You said, moving onto the next section. Natasha pushed the cart so she was walking next to you. 

“And do you like living at the tower?” She asked. You stopped to smell a candle. It was rose scented with a hint of vanilla. The smell reminded you of your mother’s perfume. She only wore it on special occasions but the scent was so engraved in your mind. 

“Yeah I do,” You answered the Russian’s question. “It’s just different.” It was the best and only way you could describe living with the Avengers. 

After Target, Natasha stopped at a bodega. She needed to pick up a few things for Wanda for dinner. You got out of the car and stared at the store in front of you. There was a weird feeling forming in the pit of your stomach. You knew this place. “Kid, are you coming?” You nodded, walking over to the Black Widow as she held open the door. “You don’t have to come in,” She said. “You can wait in the car.”

“I’m fine.” You said, stepping into the small store. The smell hit you like a freight train. It was so familiar. You’ve been in this store but you couldn’t remember why. You followed Natasha closely not wanting to be alone while your memories were all mixed up. It was bugging you why you couldn’t remember. You pride yourself on having a good memory. You had to remember schedules, guard rotations, and the stores that gave you food instead of kicking you out. Your body knew this place but what happened? 

A candy aisle caught your attention and you parted ways with Natasha. You stared at the candy selection and picked up a piece you recognized from Lucia. “Hey!” The thundering voice made you jump and drop the candy. “I thought I told you aren’t welcome here.” The owner stormed over to you and grabbed you by the collar of your shirt. “You good for nothing -”

“Get your hands off of her.” Your eyes locked with Natasha’s. Her green eyes showed how angry she was but she kept her facial expressions calm. “I said remove your hand or I’ll do it for you.” Her tone sent a shiver down your spine. But the man didn’t let go of you. He tightened his grip and lifted you off the ground. You yelped in surprise. 

“Just because you are with an Avenger does not erase what you did.” He said to you. He looked back at Natasha. “This little girl is a criminal.” The man threw you to the ground. Natasha stood in front of you blocking him from getting to you again. “I want her out of my store.”

“You won’t be having a store anymore unless you think very carefully on what’s going to happen next.” She threatened. You stood up on shaky legs. The tingle of your palms returned. You let out a shaky breath, trying to get your feelings under control. “We will be leaving this store and I promise you no Avenger will ever set foot in here again.” The man went to speak but Natasha raised her hand. “Did I give you permission to speak?” He didn’t respond. “I didn’t think so. I do not care what happened between you and her but putting your hands on a child is uncalled for and you will be hearing from Stark Lawyers.” You watched the color leave the man’s face as the Black Widow took a small step forward. “Now we will be watching this place very closely and the smallest issue we will not hesitate to shut you down. Did I make myself clear?” She asked. He nodded. 

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good.” She looked back at you. Her face softer and a smile. “Let’s get out of here.” You nodded, leaving the store and getting into the car. You felt it. The energy building inside you and around you. It needed an outlet. You moved your hand in your glove and dug your nails into your palm. The feeling was fading but you weren’t sure how long it was going to last.  

*

Natasha didn’t know the teen could be more quiet as she stared out the window. She sighed and parked the car. The sudden stop pulled her out of her daydream. “What’s going on?” 

“One more stop before we head back home.” The Black Widow got out of the car and before she closed the door, she heard a sigh. She got out of the car and leaned on the door as Natasha walked in front of the car and onto the sidewalk. Without a word, the Russian began to walk down the sidewalk. She didn’t have to look behind her to know the teen was following her. Today was supposed to be a good day and Natasha was going to end it on a goodnote. The Black Widow stopped and the teen looked at the store. 

“Ice cream?” She questioned. 

“Yes, ice cream.” Natasha brought her to the Inside Scoop, an ice cream shop she had brought Wanda after the Battle of Solovkia and Yelena when she moved to New York City. “Another thing that makes me feel better.” She shrugged and opened the door for Natasha. The Russian had a feeling she was going to like this spot. The place was decorated with old newspaper clippings from different parts of history. There was a small line so Natasha let the teen look around, there was a whole wall dedicated to the Avengers. She was reading about their fight in Wakanda against Thanos. 

“Are you guys ready to order?” Still the girl didn’t pull her eyes away from the headlines. 

“Do you know what you want?” Natasha asked her. 

“Chocolate peanut butter in a cup, please.” The Black Widow nodded with a smile and ordered. She got herself a small strawberry in a cone. Natasha paid for their treat and found Y/n by the door. She took the dish with a smile and opened the door again. They sat on a bench outside the small shop. 

“I was 8 when the Battle of New York happened,” she said, breaking the silence. “Were you scared?” The Battle of New York seemed like a lifetime ago. She was trying to put together this team while trying to save Clint and protect the citizens.

“Yeah I was scared,” She answered honestly. “I was scared, worried, and angry.” She nodded and stared at her ice cream. The New York traffic provided some noise to cover the silence.     

“I’m sorry.” She finally said, taking a spoonful of her ice cream. The apology shocked the Russian. 

“Why are you apologizing?” Natasha asked. She shrugged. “I get it. We all had to do stuff we aren’t proud of.” The teen sighed. 

“It wasn’t for me,” she explained. “One of the mothers at the homeless shelter needed formula for her baby. I didn’t have many people that cared about me like she did.” She cleared her throat. “Well I thought she cared. The store manager called the cops and the cops brought me back to the shelter. The cops said that if someone could be accountable me then they wouldn’t arrest me.” Natasha saw tears form in her eyes. “She didn’t come forward.” She whipped her eyes angrily. “Thankfully, another crime took place and I ran from the cops.” She laughed bitterly, Natasha decided it was a sound she hated. “I learned that I could only rely on myself. No one was going to come and save me.”

“Not anymore,” Natasha said. “You have a whole group of people to lean on.” The teen shrugged her shoulders and threw her ice cream away. 

“Maybe.” Natasha threw the napkins away and followed the teen back to the car. The Black Widow enjoyed being an Avenger, it allowed her to do some good with the skill set she was given. The downside, she was a public figure and she was used to watching eyes everytime she left the trailer. She felt eyes on her immediately but when she saw where they were coming from, a group of teenagers were at the corner. The group of 4 weren’t looking at her but Y/n. 

“Do you know those kids?” Natasha asked. She looked to where the Black Widow was looking. Her shoulders tensed up. 

“No, I don’t” She opened the door and got in. The Russian stared at the group as they took off in the opposite direction. It didn’t take a mind reader for her to know that she was lying. But Natasha wasn’t going to push the issue, she just hopped she would come to them if she needed help.   

* 

You stepped out of the elevator with the few bags that you and Natasha bought. Yelena, Kate, and America were on the couch playing a video game. You recognized the XBox controller in Kate’s and America’s hand from a youth center you’ve visited before. “Hey,” Kate said, without looking away from the TV. “How was shopping?” You shrugged, pushing down the words the manager threw at you. 

“It was okay.” You glanced down at the bags you were carrying then looked back up at the trio, Yelena was watching you. You stared into her green eyes as she stared into your blue ones. She gave you a smile. “Uh,” you cleared your throat. “Do you guys want to help me decorate my room?” You asked. America paused the game. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” You confessed. “I’ve never had a room of my own.”

“Yeah of course we’ll help you.” 

“Okay cool. Finish your game, there is no rush.” You walked to your room and opened the door, you stopped yourself from closing it. You put the bags down on your bed and fidgeted with your gloves.

“Knock, knock,” Yelena said. You spun around and saw them standing in the doorway. “Can we come in?” You nodded and they walked in. 

“Alright,” Kate said, walking to the bag. “Let’s see what we are working with.” She began to pull out the stuff. The box of string lights, the poster of book recommendations, and a few other things. 

“FRIDAY,” America said. “Play my pump up playlist.” The AI began to play the playlist and music began to fill your silent room. You gave her a questionable look. “What? We need music for inspiration.” You laughed, shaking your head. America and Kate took the reigns of decorating your room. They asked for your input and you gave it to them when you could but you were happy to give them control. You and Yelena were sitting on your bed as they were hanging up the lights. The Russian handed you a small chocolate bar. 

“Do you just carry these with you?” You asked as you took the small candy. She shrugged with a smile. “It’s like your Lupin from Harry Potter.” She looked at you confused for a second. 

“He’s the boy that does magic, right?” You nodded. “I’ve seen the first movie.”

“I’ve only read the books.” You said, taking a bite. The blonde looked at the floor, at your makeshift bed. 

“Not sleeping on this?” She questioned, patting on the bed. You forgot about it before you invited them to your room. You shook your head. “Too soft?” You looked at her, seeing nothing but understanding in her eyes. 

“Yeah,” You whispered. “Something like that.” You finished the candy. 

“It gets easier,” she said, handing you another piece. Like everyone here, you desperately wanted to believe her.    

____

taglist: @yourmamacom

[itzy0megaverse]

Dude alpha nerd yeji would be so cute like this hot ass alpha with glasses who just gets so shy any time you're in the same room as her -D

I loved this idea so damn much 😭😭😭

Science Classes (A!nerd!Yeji)

Requested : ✔️

Reader : Gn / I also left this ambiguous in terms of a/b/o assignment

Tw : none

New semester and new classes. New subjects and new topics. New seating and new bench partners.

Your first science class of the year was both exciting and dreadful. It's fun to see who your new teacher and classmates are but the subject itself is always difficult to grasp. Walking into the classroom, you find a simplistic layout of the classroom and its tables on the board with the names of each student lined up to each table. You find your name, translate that to the real life classroom and take a brief look at who your seating partner is.

"Yeji..." You whisper quietly to yourself. One of the students that most people know the name of but don't know the face that applies to it. You recognise the name but still have no clue as to who it is you're expecting, other than you know you're looking for a girl. You dismiss the thoughts and move out the way of the board to find your seat.

Unlike normal, your head stays upright staring at the classroom. Watching each person as they leave the board and trudge towards their new seat, looking out for the one who'll sit next to you. Next up at the board is a small framed girl with glasses and brown hair holding a few notebooks up to her chest. She takes one look at the board before immediately landing her eyes on you.

You sit somewhat stunned as she beams you a beautiful smile and happily walks over to the empty spot next to you. "You must be Y/n?" She says as she places her books on the table and her bag underneath. This girl is an alpha!? you think to yourself. The scent is un-mistakable but her shy dimenor throws you off that scent. Your breath hitches in your throat for a second before snapping out of it with a light cough. "And you must be Yeji!" You gladly respond while offering your hand to shake.

----

The class had begun 10 minutes ago and you're already struggling. Things tend to take a little longer for you to process so all the math-like problems and note taking takes longer for you than most. On top of that, the teacher going through things at Eminem speed was not helping. Thankfully, the teacher stopped talking shortly after and gave all the students space to solve some questions on their own. It gave you a chance to catch up on the note taking.

"Need help?" The whisper in your ear startled you a little and Yeji, the owner of the voice, began giggling slightly at your adorableness. "Eeehhh-..." Looking back at your notebook, you're a little too shy to admit you do in fact need that help and the only noise that comes out is a strange groan like sound.

Yeji ended your suffering and created an entirely new suffering by pulling her chair just a little closer to yours and leaning over to help you. "To balance an equation you need the same amount of atoms on each side of the equation." Yeji begins gently explaining each and every step much slower than the teacher did and you almost understand it.... but it's very difficult to concentrate when you have a really cute alpha practically wrapping her arms round you.

"See, that means you now have 5 hydrogen atoms on each side BUT it also means you've up the carbon atoms on the left side. So in fixing the hydrogen atoms you've ruined the carbon at-....o..ms....." A blush crawls across Yeji's face as she notices the already deep blush on yours and she finally registers just how close you both are. "OhmygodOhmygadOhmygod- I'm so sorry for that I didn't think. I didn't reali-"

"It's ok." Yeji had jerked herself away from you and back into her space after noticing the little distance and began apologising profusely before you cut her off. "I'm actually starting to understand this whole balancing equations thing now so thank you." You give her a genuinely happy smile but you're still a little to shy to turn and show her. So instead your book receives it.

You never were to keen on science classes.... but you could get used to this one.

[jess-the-reckless]

Sorry about your gay pirates, pirate brainrotters. If it helps, here are some free gay pirates of my own to fill your pirate-shaped hole.

I liked Our Flag Means Death. I enjoyed S1, and I’m looking forward to seeing S2, particularly as I understand that Lucius lives, and Nathan Foad might be one of the funniest human beings on the planet. I liked its silliness, its cheerful disregard for historical accuracy, and how every ship seemed to become a sort of sartorial TARDIS for Stede Bonnet’s expansive wardrobe. It was a lot of fun, but it never succeeded in burrowing all the way down into my heart the way that other things do, because the gay pirate space in my heart was already occupied.

And the gay pirates in question were mine, so obviously I’m going to love them more. You’re always going to love your own children, especially when said child is a snarling transvestite monster-baby like Jem Exley.

I don’t know when Jem first appeared in my head exactly, but I can identify the fleeting larval thought that turned into the all-consuming brainworm of Reckless. I was writing something about reef diving off the coast of Florida, and the instructor character made a mention of pirate wrecks. And I saw them. A clear flash of the pirates. One was your typical romance novel sexy pirate, and the other was a fascinating binfire of a human being, flintlocked and loaded, gnarly eighteenth century cosmetics melting off his face in the Caribbean heat. I knew immediately that they were lovers – terrible, messy, co-dependent, and borderline backstabbing lovers – and that their story would come back and bother me at a later date.

And with that I forgot about them.

Sort of.

Jem kept coming back, though. He came back in clay pipes, banyan robes, in the shoes and combs and gloves I saw at the Fashion Museum in Bath. He wandered back by way of Monteverdi, Henry Fielding, and drag queen sass, and when characters keep popping back into your head like that you know you’re pretty much doomed to write the damned book.

So I did, and I had a fucking blast. I read pirate books, listened to pirate podcasts, wallowed happily in Baroque music. As a bonus, because the book takes place so early in the eighteenth century, a lot of the seventeenth century bleeds over into it, and I love the seventeenth century. Like most interesting times, it was undoubtedly horrible to live through, but I had so much fun making sure that the scars of the Civil Wars were still visible in both Jem and Henry’s backgrounds. The lively Restoration theatre scene makes an appearance at the start of the book, and the Duke of Monmouth – one of many seventeenth-century candidates for the ultimate Fuck-Around-and-Find-Out award – is namechecked multiple times as a plot point. Beady-eyed history nerds will also spot a hostile polydactyl cat named after a loathed seventeenth-century despot, who also – happily – fucked around and very much found out. (The despot, that is. Not to spoiler, but the cat lives and thrives, and goes on to beat up iguanas in the sequel, Code Noir.)

Ultimately, though, the fun I had with this book comes down to playing around with old romance novel trope of the virgin captured by the pirate. What if the pirate captor was the virgin in this story? It wasn’t too much of a stretch, especially since so many pirates were so very, very young, and that gave me the jumping off point for the character of Henry Dyer. He’s a kid, only nineteen at the start of the story. Yes, eighteenth-century nineteen is a lot different from twenty-first-century nineteen, but biology remains the same. He’s still going to be subject to the slings and arrows of outrageous hormones, even if he’s been at sea since he was fifteen years old. And he’s confused. He doesn’t fully understand why his dick doesn’t work properly in the brothels, although he hangs around and helps the girls with their book-keeping, since he always had a good head for figures.

It takes Jem – a cross-dressing sex-worker who is quite happy to be mistaken for a woman if he thinks it might suit his latest scam – to unconfuse Henry. Once he knows what he wants, he goes for it, and what you end up with is two uncompromising weirdos finding a way to be themselves in a world that wants them dead. I get into this more in the sequel, but I wanted to emphasise that this is a horrendous time to be alive if you’re not a straight, white male with a fat bank balance, and preferably some kind of title. Aristocratic Jem ticks several of those boxes, and yet still gets sent packed onto a ship for the colonies in the hope that he will die discreetly of yellow fever somewhere. Alive, in England, he’s an embarrassment who keeps doing drag, sucking dick, and stealing everything that isn’t on fire or nailed down. And not the respectable kind of stealing, either, the kind you do with an invading army and a Union Jack. No, this is the poor people sort of theft, the kind they hang people for.

Meanwhile Henry, originally groomed for the church but too clever for his own good, arrives at the reasonable conclusion that he’d rather not believe in a God who seems to keep letting people make such a mess of things in His name. He falls into piracy like so many others, when his merchant ship gets captured by a pirate crew who make him a much better offer. And he likes it. He’s good at it. Nobody cares if he believes in God or not. He gets to work with the things he does believe in, the things he can see and feel, like the wind and the tides, and it makes him a superb sailor. It also, when he gets there, makes him a superb lover.

And that’s what it’s all about, in the end. This story may be messy, violent, crime-riddled, and full of so much vomit that I actually put a content warning for emetophobes in the front, but it’s still a love story. And if the world isn’t going to let you love who you love? Well, you’re just going to have to be gay and do crimes. Lots, and lots of crimes.

And they do. (Spoilers: they’re pirates.)

[animefreak2112]

Starfire - Chapter 1 (Bakugou x Reader x Deku)

NOTE — PLEASE READ THE PROLOGUE FOR STORY SUMMARY, WARNINGS, AND A/N Chapter 1

PRESENT DAY

            “Izu—” You suck oxygen into your lungs, sprinting after him while hoisting the school bag over your shoulder. God, you wish that he would slow the hell down, “Izuku! Wait for me!”

Finally, the green haired boy turns to you, slowing his pace.

“O-oh, Y/N! I didn’t hear you.”

“Probably stuck in that hero book of yours,” you tease, “still a big nerd after all these years.” Pink floods his cheeks, face twisting into an adorable pout.

“C’mon Y/N,” he gives your arm a light shove, “you’re just as obsessed with heroes as I am.” You simply stick your tongue out at him playfully and continue walking. Your middle school was about a ten-minute walk from your home and conveniently, you lived only a few minutes away from Izuku.

Your uniform skirt swishes around your thighs as you walk and it isn’t long before you both reach the front entrance of your humble middle school. The sight of it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. Thanks to a certain someone, it isn’t exactly your favorite place to be. You frown as you see Izuku clench his fingers together with a nervous look — and you know the reason. No matter how hard you tried, you were never able to fully stop the taunts that were thrown at him for being quirkless. Unfortunately, threats to burn bullies alive with your Starfire could only go so far.

Your hands clench into your skirt as thoughts of a certain blond enter your mind, and you don’t notice the smoke until you hear Izuku yelp.

“Y/N! Your — your skirt is smoking!”

You look down to see your blue and purple flames licking up your hands and wrists, singing your skirt in the process. You let out a curse and immediately extinguish your flames. “Shit,” you whisper as you look down to see black singed spots where your hands had clenched your skirt. You groan, head dropping back to look at the blue sky. Leave it to Bakuhoe fucking Katsuki to make you lose control of your quirk.

Suddenly, you feel a hand brush the burnt material of your skirt and look up to meet concerned green eyes. Even though Izuku wasn’t that tall, he was still a few inches taller than you, and you were forced to look up slightly. Your E/C eyes widen as he gently touches the material covering your thigh and asks you in a soft voice, “Are you okay, Y/N? You’re not hurt right?”

Your eyes widen even further and blood rushes to your cheeks, “I— uh, y-yes...” You stammer several times over your response before the green-eyed boy finally realizes his actions.

Izuku.exe has stopped working.

He quickly removes his hand and brings it to cover his red face, stammering apologies left and right. You slap your own cheeks harshly and let out a small, nervous huff before speaking again, “Izu— hey! Izuku!”

You wave your hand in front of his face and realize that he’s gone into his insane ‘muttering mode’. A small smile adorns your lips and you finally pluck up the courage to place your hand on his shoulder, breaking his muttering phase. He looks at you with his forest green eyes, the blush still evident on his face.

“It’s okay Izu,” you say with a shy smile, “Let’s get to class before we’re late!”

Your heart stutters when he gives you a warm smile and pulls you along, not noticing the redness in your cheeks.

God, he really is a ray of sunshine.

The first bell rings when you reach the doors of the school and you both look at each other before breaking into a sprint. By pure luck, you and Izuku burst through the door just before the bell rings. You give Izuku a smile before making your way to your desk in the back corner. Your breath is coming out in huffs when you feel a pair of eyes on the side of your face. Looking up, your E/C gaze meets a pair of crimson red orbs.

As per usual, Katsuki Bakugou has a scowl on his face when he looks at you and you don’t hesitate to glare back at him before marching back to your desk. The small interaction with Katsuki leaves a bad taste in your mouth as class finally starts.

“Ah, looks like we have three students applying to UA this year. Let’s see...Bakugou, Y/N, and...Midoriya didn’t you want to go to UA too?” The scowl on your face deepens as the class begins to laugh at the thought.

“Midoriya? You’re kidding right?”

“There’s no way you’ll get into the hero course without a quirk!”

You’re about to reprimand the jeers at Izuku when an explosion sends his desk on its side. Your blood boils when you hear Katsuki insulting Izuku and you can’t help but stand from your seat when he backs him against the chalkboard, his hands popping with small explosions.

  It only takes a few quick steps for you to find yourself in front of Katsuki with fire in your eyes. You’re too angry to hear the hushed whispers of your classmates as they await the fight between you.

Katsukis’ red eyes flare as you step in front of him, and his glare intensifies as he sneers, “I suggest you get the hell out of my way, loser.”

It’s obvious that he expects you to back down. To submit.

Hell to the no.

Your scowl deepens and you take a few steps forward until you’re only a few inches from his face. You crane your neck up to meet his eyes as he towers over you. Voice dropping to a savage whisper, you say, “Make me, bitch.”

Katsuki grits his straight, white teeth in anger and you can’t help but smirk as you hear the small explosions crackle from his hands. Behind you, Izuku stammers for you to calm down, “Please, Y/N. It’s fine! Just let it go, okay?”

But it wasn’t fine.

And you sure as hell weren’t going to let it go.

Flames burn at your fingertips, licking up your wrists in wisps of purple, blue, and white. Katsuki’s eyes begin to shine with a feral glint and he grins at the challenge. Your Starfire burns hot against his skin — you’re surprised that he hasn’t backed off yet.

Then again, he is Katsuki Bakugo — and he doesn’t back down from anything.

Suddenly, you hear the voice of your teacher as he booms for everyone to get back to their seats. Katsuki’s eyes leave yours to glare over your shoulder and you feel a hand tug at your sleeve. Giving him one last glare, you turn to Izuku with a kind smile.

“You okay, Izu?”

The words are soft and gentle as they come out of your mouth, completely different than the voice you used with Katsuki. You can feel his anger radiating behind you as he lets out an angry ‘tch’ before stomping back to his desk.

You can visibly see the stress leave Izuku when Katsuki finally sits down, “Kacchan really does hate me, doesn’t he?” Your heart breaks a little at the sad expression on his face and he looks up when you poke his cheek with a smile.

“Don’t sweat it Izuku, he’s just a jerk. Their opinions don’t matter. You can do whatever you want, including being a hero. We’ll both get into UA, I know it.”

 And for the second time that morning, the smile on his face leaves you breathless.

“Thanks, Y/N.”   

You both jump and blush when the teacher calls out his order yet again, finally going separate ways to your own desks.

                                                          ***

You're too busy covering your pink cheeks with your hands to notice the angry, crimson eyes drilling into you. Katsuki clenches his fist tightly and a loud ‘snap’ can be heard throughout the classroom. The pencil that was once in his grip hits the desk in pieces.

                                                          ***

Class drags on throughout the day and you sigh with relief as the final bell rings. You pack up your things quickly and make your way to Izukus’ desk, setting down your bag next to his chair. You hold up your index finger when he meets your eyes, “I’ll be right back. Wait for me?”

He gives you a nod of acknowledgement and turns back to his hero notes with a mumble. You smile and jog out the classroom door, heading for the restroom.

You round the corner to the classroom a couple minutes later and your hand reaches for the handle only to freeze when you hear Katsukis’ voice from inside.

“Y’know if you really wanna be a hero that badly there actually might be another way. Just pray that you’ll be born with a quirk in your next life, and take a swan dive off the roof of the building.”

Your hands shake as they clench into your skirt and once again you smell smoke as your Starfire burns straight through the thick material. You slam the wood door open so hard that you’re sure it splinters, and your flames are sparking against your skin like wildfire.

Your Starfire crackles and pops as it races across your skin and you launch yourself at Katsuki when the door opens. Dissipating the flames on your right hand, you slam a clenched fist into Katsukis’ jaw with all your might.

His friends yelp and jump back when your furious form comes into view and Katsuki lets out a growl while clenching his jaw, palms crackling.

“You bitch!”

You’re just about to launch yourself at him a second time when you feel arms wrap around your shoulders. Izukus’ forearms rest just below your collar bones and you feel your shoulders relax as he whispers soft words in your ear, “Y/N, let’s just go...” Your mouth opens in protest but you freeze when his arms tighten around you.

“Please.” 

Your heart breaks at the emotion in Izukus’ voice and you turn around to get your bag. Snatching Izukus’ hand, you make your way to the door — which was now sporting a large splinter down the side. You ignore Katsukis’ loud curses as you pass, and finally come to a stop when you and Izuku are just outside the door.

The curses coming out of Katsukis’ mouth cease when your E/C orbs meet his, and you know that there must be Starfire in your eyes.

Your voice is chillingly calm when you speak again, and you say the words with as much venom as possible, “Fuck you, Bakugou.”

You’re surprised when Bakugou flinches slightly at the last word. For as long as you had known him, you had never once called him Bakugou. Even after he had changed for the worst, he had always, always been Katsuki to you.

And with that, you started down the hall with Izuku — leaving Katsuki Bakugou behind.

[inkedrkives]

A Fuckboy's Oath

“Oh my gosh, hi Jeongguk!” One of the girls mustered up the confidence to greet the jock. Jeongguk looks their way and only gives them a small smile. 

Jimin clicks his tongue, shaking his head. Jeongguk carried Jimin’s bag and books and walked with him to the cafeteria. 

“What? I only smiled at them.” Jeongguk says, putting the books on the table where the council usually sits. Jimin is the council president and Jeongguk’s one and only favorite nerd. 

“Oppa, do you wanna have lunch with us? We have a free seat on our table.” Another girl approaches them. Jeongguk shakes his head in refusal, “No, thank you.” He respectfully declines. 

Jimin sighs, giving Jeongguk a pat on the shoulders, “Stay strong.” He teases.

“Oh please, like she’d ever move me.” Jeongguk assures Jimin.

Let me tell you the story about how the two met. Jimin was a transferee a year ago, and when Jeongguk caught wind about the genius transferee, he looked forward to getting a good banter with the latest nerd in school. “Your standards are so low, there’s no way a nerd can be cute.” is what Jeongguk told his friends when they couldn’t stop talking about Jimin. 

So, to prove his point, he walked to the next building and went straight to the nerd’s classroom. 

“Alright, where is the nerd...everyone..is talking…about..” His voice trailed off when his world moved in slow motion. Jeongguk feels a ray of sunlight shining behind a gorgeous man, smiling with crescent moons as he laughed, hands shyly covering his face. Cherry blossoms float in Jeongguk’s mind when he watches his lips move as he talks, and that pout, that pretty little pout— “Hey bro, were you looking for me?” His thoughts get interrupted like a screeching record when his friend, Namjoon, approaches him. 

“Ya, ya, ya–” He hits Joon’s chest lightly with the back of his hand. “What’s his name?”

“Oh? Him? Park Jimin. He’s the transferee everyone’s talking about. Apparently he got a perfect score on the entrance exam and got recommended by many professors.” 

“He’s perfect, alright. I’m going to make him mine.”

But Jimin had standards, and he wasn’t easy. He’s determined to never date playboys like Jeongguk; besides, he always focused on his academics first. Dating someone with a fuckboy reputation would just do him more harm than good. 

However, Jimin’s dedication to his academic affairs is just as how Jeongguk was relentless in pursuing him. He’d walk him to class everyday, drive him home on his motorbike, and would even dedicate his points to him, saying “This is for you, Jimin!” The jock would wink before landing a three-point shot in basketball tournaments. 

So, Jimin decided to give him a chance—in one condition: Jeongguk proves that he can be faithful and mature. 

Hence, the fuckboy’s oath.

After basketball practice the next day, Jeongguk immediately showered and went straight to the university fair to look for Jimin. It wasn’t difficult to spot the kissing booth, as a large group of students lined up for their spot. 

“Oh my God it’s Jeongguk!” “Do you think he’s participating too? I don’t mind paying for both of them.” “Jeongguk is so hot.” The player could hear the murmurs, but he ignored them all. He walked past the people lining up and went behind the booth. 

Taehyung spots Jeongguk, so he gives Jimin a little nudge, sporting a smirk on his lips, “Your Romeo is here.” He says. Jimin quickly turns to look for Jeongguk, and when their eyes meet, Jeongguk curses under his breath. “Did you really have to wear a lip balm?”

“Of course he has to, there’s looooot of lips to kiss today.” Taehyung answers for Jimin, who rolls his eyes at him before looking at Jeongguk. “You really came.”

Jeongguk leans on the doorframe. “Of course, I told you I’m proving my oath to you today.”

“Hm, sure.”

“I told you. You won’t see me flinch.”

“Mmkay.”

Hoseok enters the booth, “Hey, Pres. These are ready!” He says, hugging three large fish bowls in his chest and placing them on the table. Jeongguk walked towards them and stood beside Jimin. “What are these?” He asked, but before he could take one of the papers, Jimin took both bowls with him. “Come one, Tae, it’s time to open the booth.”

Jeongguk watched on the side as the girl first in line squeals in excitement. “I’ll take this bowl, please!” She tells Tae, who moderated everything. “That’s ₩5,000.” He says, and she drops the money in the box in front of the bowls he chose. Then, she fishes out a paper.

‘Knuckles.’ the paper read. 

Jeongguk sees Jimin stand up and take her hand in his. He gives her a charming smile before he brings her hand close to his lips and kisses her knuckles. Her cheeks turn pink and she quickly covers them, shyly thanking Jimin as she leaves the line. 

Jeongguk tapped his feet but aside from that, there was nothing to worry about. Jimin could never be interested in her anyway, Jimin liked men. 

The next person was a girl as well, she paid for the same bowl. 

“It says cheeks.” She excitedly shows Taehyung. 

“Cheeks?!” Jeongguk whisper-yelled and Jimin sends him a glare. Jeongguk immediately regained composure, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Ya, Romeo, you’re scaring our customers.” Tae snickered in a whisper. Jeongguk watched as Jimin dipped down a little to reach the girl’s cheek. “Remember your oath, loverboy.” He hears Taehyung tease before Jimin lands a kiss on the student’s cheek. 

“Oh my God.” She covers her face, “Thank you very much, Jimin!!” She jumps.

Jeongguk let out a breath. This wasn’t Jeongguk, the heartthrob everyone knew was always calm and composed. “Get it together, keep your cool. It was just on the cheek.” Jeongguk tells himself. 

“Neck.” He hears a guy’s voice and his eyes immediately dart back to Jimin’s direction. Apparently, while he was busy giving himself a pep talk, a guy paid for the bowl of choices worth ₩10,000. 

Jimin’s hesitation was so quick that everybody else wouldn't notice it, but this was Jeongguk; he knew it made Jimin uncomfortable. 

“So lucky!” “Damn, I'm definitely paying for that bowl too.” Jeongguk hears. He watched as Jimin pressed his palms on the table to support himself. He was about to stand on his tiptoes when the guy interrupted him. “Sorry, I–uh, Jimin, can I do it on you instead?” He bites his lip shyly. Jeongguk’s eyebrows narrowed upon hearing his request.

Jimin looks at him in surprise, “What?”

“Can I be the one to kiss you on your neck instead?” He smiles, dimples showing. 

“Uhm—I—” Jimin stutters, but he doesn’t even dare finish his sentence when Jeongguk stands in the way and towering over Jimin. 

“I’m sorry, Jimin, but this is where I draw the line.” Jeongguk said as he looked straight into Jimin’s eyes. “Fuck the oath, this is making you uneasy.” He says under his breath, loud enough for Jimin to hear.

Jimin was relieved, heart racing as he let out a breath. Frankly, Jimin was thankful for Jeongguk’s intervention. 

The jock turns around to face the guy. “Sorry man, no one’s kissing his neck.”

“Why not? He’s not your boyfriend.” He raises his eyebrows at Jeongguk. 

The athlete tilts his head, pissed, “Are you blind? Can’t you see he’s uncomfortable?” 

“I don’t hear him complaining.”

Jeongguk clenched his jaw, using all his energy to resist the urge to punch the man. “Hwang Min Seok, Engineering department, right?” Jeongguk shoves his hands in his pockets. 

“Yea and what about it?”

“I heard from my dad that your father is involved in money laundering. You’re not paying for this booth with that dirty money of yours.”

“How did you—”

“Your dad is being sued by my father’s client. My father’s a lawyer, you see. So might as well keep that ₩10,000. After all, it might be the last piece of change you’ll have in your pocket for a while.” Jeongguk smirks, maintaining eye contact with the guy that people around them were sure he was starting to shoot lasers from his eyes.

Embarrassed, the guy finally leaves. The person next in line stood there awkwardly, as if he was waiting for Jeongguk’s permission. The athlete raises one hand up before turning around to face Jimin, who was seated back down. 

Jeongguk bends a little, resting his left hand on the table while the other is in his pocket. “Are you alright? Will you be okay?” 

Jimin looks up to meet Jeongguk’s eyes; because of his sense of responsibility, he wanted to answer in the affirmative. However, he was a little shaken up by the man’s request earlier that all he could manage to do was subconsciously pout.  Jeongguk gives him a comforting smile, touching Jimin’s chin with his pointing finger before whispering, “I got you.” He then turns around to face the crowd.

“Bad news, booth is closed.” He paused when he heard the crowd whisper and grunt, “Good news, everyone in this crowd is invited to my party. Tonight, 9 P.M. at the Jeon estate.” and the crowd cheers. 

Of course, everyone would die to be invited to one of his parties. People who have been invited always boasted about being in the Jeon estate—it was a bragging right. Being invited meant being leveled up a status.

While the crowd was busy celebrating being invited to his party, Jeongguk took it as an opportunity to bring his attention back to Jimin. 

“Let’s go?” He offers, dimple showing as he smiles. 

---

“You know how to host my parties. I’ll leave it all to you.” Jeongguk was on the phone with one of his closest friends, Yoongi.

He and Jimin went out to eat dinner together after what happened in the booth. Jimin was still a little shaken up but he was feeling better than earlier. 

“Yea yea yea, it was impulsive but I know you love me Yoongs. Bye.” Jeongguk says before ending the call. 

“What do you mean the party was impulsive? Didn’t you plan your party beforehand?”

“Nope.” He pops the ‘P’ as he replies. “I couldn’t let them leave without anything. I don’t want them getting upset at the council, especially at you.” 

Jimin almost chokes at the food he was about to swallow. No, it wasn’t because of what Jeongguk said; rather, it was because his heart skipped a beat. Jimin paused, wide-eyed and jaw shut tight, right hand clutching the glass. 

His heart skipped a beat.

“Nerd, hey, hello?” Jeongguk’s voice jolts him back to reality. “You alright?” He waves.

Jimin swallows his food. 

---

Jeongguk took Jimin on a night ride on his motorbike. It always seemed to calm Jimin down—wind blowing through his face, the speed making the sounds of Seoul turn into white noise, arms tight around Jeongguk’s waist while he rested his head on— “What am I thinking?!” Jimin shakes his thoughts away. 

“We’re here.” Jeongguk announces. Jimin realized that Jeongguk had driven him home. Jeongguk hops off the motorbike first and offers his hand to assist the smaller one down the bike.

“But I didn’t ask you to take me home.” Jimin replies, refusing to leave Jeongguk’s bike. 

“It’s almost eleven in the evening, you must be tired.” The jock laughs, although he found Jimin really cute at the moment. Jimin shakes his head. 

“Alright, sir. Anywhere you want to go?” Jeongguk asks. 

Jimin shrugs, “Where do boys like you go?” He returns the question. Jeongguk lets out a soft chuckle before putting his helmet on and riding the bike. 

Jimin’s arms move to hug Jeongguk’s waist like it was a reflex; his leather jacket still warm from Jimin’s previous hold on him.

“Alright then.” Jeongguk says before the bike roars back to life.

“Here we are.” Jeongguk said as he got off the bike. He takes his helmet off. 

“Where are we?” Jimin looked around and it looked like they were in the middle of nowhere. 

“You asked me where guys like me go. So, this is it.”

“In the middle of nowhere?! You’re not going to do something bad to me, are you?!” 

Jeongguk laughs, rolling his eyes as he takes Jimin’s helmet off his head. “That’s my house over there. This entire estate is ours.” Jeongguk points to the far end, where you could see different colors of light coming out from the window. 

When Jeongguk turned his attention back to Jimin, he almost melted at the sight of his surprised face. “You’re so pretty, I just want to put this helmet back on your head and hide you from everyone else.” the athlete smiles, offering his hand once again for Jimin to take. 

Thump. Thump. Thump. Jimin’s heart races again. 

The council president finally accepts the assistance. He takes Jeongguk’s hand and hops off the bike with ease. Jimin followed Jeongguk as they approached a small cottage. The smaller one watched as Jeongguk revealed his pendant. It was a key. He takes it off and unlocks the door. 

“This is where I go when I want to be alone.” The athlete says as he opens the door. It was his hobby room, where he painted to his heart’s content. 

“You painted all of these?” To say that Jimin was in awe is an understatement. He never expected Jeongguk to be the type to look for a ‘quiet time’ by himself. “May I?” He asks, and Jeongguk nods. “Of course, and yes, I painted all of these. Didn’t expect that from me, did you?” A proud grin finds its way to Jeongguk’s lips, earning a smile from Jimin. 

Jimin let his fingers feel the canvas, his eyes observing each stroke Jeongguk made. He realized he judged Jeongguk too quickly, and there was a lot more behind the surface of the athlete, there was more to him than just being the university superstar and heartthrob. 

There was so much more to Jeongguk; and Jimin wants to know all about it.

“Jimin that’s—” Jeongguk’s warning startled Jimin that his hands flew to his chest. “—wet paint.” the jock stifles a laugh. “Sorry I didn’t mean to startle you. You got a little–” Jeongguk points to his neck, and Jimin sees that his fingers had wet paint in them. 

“I’ll get you a washcloth.” Jeongguk says. Jimin looks at the painting of the dog with eyes full of pity. He ruined Jeongguk’s work.

Jeongguk comes back with a damp cloth. “C’mere.” He motions, and Jimin follows. Jeongguk leaned down a little to get a better view of the paint on the smaller one’s neck, and Jimin prayed to the heavens that the athlete couldn’t hear his heart hammering against his chest. 

“Don’t feel bad about my painting.” Jeongguk says softly. “I could always make something out of it.” He assures before standing upright, “There you go, clumsy. All clean.” Jeongguk’s dimples make an appearance again, and Jimin couldn’t take it anymore. 

Jimin takes Jeongguk’s collar in his fists, pulling him into an eager kiss. Jeongguk drops the washcloth on the floor, hands automatically finding Jimin’s waist. The athlete smiles into the kiss, spinning them around and cornering Jimin onto the table.

now playing: i'm yours by isabel larosa

Paint was all over the floor, materials bathing in different colors. Jeongguk had pushed them all away as he lay Jimin on the table while Jimin’s legs hung off the edge. “Haa–” Jimin moaned out, taking Jeongguk’s cheeks between his palms, “Please, I’m r-ready.” They were just making out, but here they are, skin to skin desperate for each other’s touch.

Jeongguk basks in the sight before him, drinking in Jimin’s flushed cheeks and swollen lips before looking into his eyes, “Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks for the nth time. Jimin nods eagerly. “Jeongguk, I’m yours.”

He looks into Jimin’s eyes again before whispering, “Bear with me for a while.”  Jeongguk dips down to capture Jimin’s lips, and slowly, he slides into Jimin. 

The sudden pain caused Jimin to wrap his arms around Jeongguk’s shoulder, holding him close and tight. The latter winces when Jimin bites his lip. “Fuck, i’m sorry—” 

Jeongguk softly ran his fingers through Jimin’s damp hair, “Ssshh, it’s okay, you’re doing great.” His voice gentle. “You can take me.” He says, leaving small kisses on Jimin’s cheek. 

Jeongguk gently pushes forward and Jimin runs his nails along the athletes back, “Jeongguk.” Jimin pants. 

Jeongguk kisses him again, and Jimin moans into it, both in pain and pleasure. 

Breaking from the kiss, Jeongguk lifted his head a little to look at Jimin’s expression, his chest was heaving up and down and tears were slowly rolling to the side of his eye. Jeongguk kisses the tears away, tasting the saltiness in his tongue. 

“Ssssh, you can do it, baby. Just a little more.” Jeongguk comforts, palm cupping Jimin’s left  cheek while his other hand grips on Jimin’s leg. He moves forward slowly, eyes never leaving Jimin as he does; and when he finally bottom’s out, Jimin lets out a string of moans, lips parted, eyes closing and back arching. 

Jeongguk dives in for a kiss, trying not to move his hips until Jimin is ready. “Are you okay?” He whispers into Jimin’s ears. 

Jimin tangles his fingers in Jeongguk’s hair before nodding slowly. “Jeongguk.” his voice came out as a whisper. Jeongguk touches Jimin’s cheek with his nose, “Hm?” “I like you.” Jimin confessed. “Take me, take all of me. I’m yours.”

Bonus-- the painting, before and after Jimin accidentally touched it. Legend says Jeongguk proudly displays it in his bedroom to remind him of that night.

[dominantwolf]

The Dead of Winter Pt.2

She walks inside, bending her head and back to walk the through door. She’s actually taller than the doorframe? Holy shit! Ok, calm down Alice. Breathe. “Hey, um... you can let me down now.” That’s what I say to the incredibly gorgeous lady carrying me into my house? Hopeless. I am hopeless and oh so very gay. I give myself a mental face-palm for allowing that to leave my mouth. She giggles at me “Do you actually want me to put you down or was that just a suggestion?” Pull. Yourself. Together. Woman. As if on que, my mother bursts into the room. The cock-block of the lesbian world. My mother is a small round woman, gray hair and laugh lines. She always has a smile on her face. She could light up a room the moment she walks in. Not this time though, this time her was that of concern and confusion. “Excuse me but, who the hell are you and why are you holding my baby?” Great, not only did she ruin quite possibly the greatest moment ever but, she had to embarrass me in front of her. “Mom, could you not? This is the woman from the crash. She carried me because I was shivering and cold.” I say as I climb out of her big, warm embrace. “Please, let me beg your pardon ma’am. My name is Alcina. Alcina Dimitrescu. I fear I was in a car crash just over the hill of your property. Your gracious daughter thought it wise for us to flee from the cold. I hope this is ok” she says looking at me from the corner of her eye as she walked closer to my mother with her hand extended towards her for a handshake. The smile playing at the corner of her lips enticing, almost inviting me to say something sarcastic. Oh, how the urge was there. For whatever reason, whether it be her strength or utter beauty. I dared not speak. I couldn’t. “Well, I suppose that’s fine. Do you have anyone you can call?” My mother is now staring at me like I am some mystery object found in the middle of nowhere. “What is wrong with you honey? You haven’t said a word and normally I can’t get you to shut up.” She now has her hand on my forehead checking my temperature. “I believe she is just exhausted from being in the cold and snow. Maybe she needs to lay down and rest for a bit. Where is her room? I’ll take her for you.” Another smile is at the corner of her lip, this one sweet and caring. “It’s right down the hall, just past the bathroom. I can get her though.” My mother now in momma bear mode with the stranger in her home. “It’s ok mom, she’s a lot stronger. I’ll be ok” I try to reassure my worried mother. “Are you sure baby?” Oh mother, how many times have I told you to stop calling me baby? I’m not even slightly a child. 28 years old and I’m still the baby. I am the youngest of 5 children. Being the only daughter has its drawbacks. “Mom, I am a big girl. I’ll be ok. What could she possibly do to me?” I chuckle half trying to reassure my mother and half trying to keep my still swimming mind calm. There is so many things she could do but, I dare not say out loud. “Well, ok. I’ll be right here if you need anything.” Alcina and I make our way to my room. The black door beckoning my return. I slowly open my door, revealing my broad assortment of nerd paraphernalia. “Oh umm... Ya sorry. My room is kind of a mess. Here” I scramble to quickly spot clean my room hiding my empty soda cans and food wrappers. While I panic, she strolls towards my bookshelf and begins browsing at my book collection. I hear here let out a gentle laugh. “What?” She holds up a book. The cover has a naked woman on it and I immediately know what she’s holding. She managed to find the one lesbian romance novel on my entire shelf. “What’s this little one?” She clearly knows what it is, she just wants me to say it. I’m beginning to think she enjoys my embarrassment. “Ok, look here lady... We’re not going to go through my stuff and make fun of me.” Almost like a small child, I grab the book and stomp away towards my bed. She is now laughing at full volume. “But it’s so cute when you get upset” she takes the two steps closing the distance between us.

[justaself-shipper]

Yandere!Golden Guard x Reader x Yandere! Edric Blight- Golden Psychopathic Lovers

Request by @fLoweRcaSe00 on Wattpad It was a new year at Hexside. Another year of school for Y/N. Clutching her books tightly, her nervous mind fluttered to all the terrible things that could happen on her first day back. She jumped as she felt a hand tap her shoulder. “Hey kitten. Been a while, hasn’t it?” A smooth voice whispered into her ear. Turning around, Y/N lets out a sigh of relief when she realised who it was. “Oh, hi Edric! Has been a while, hasn’t it? About two weeks?” Edric smiled at the H/C girl in front of him, humming in response. As the two chatted, a certain human walked up behind Y/N, covering her eyes. “Guess who?” She giggled. Y/N gasped. “The Grim Reaper! You’ve finally come for me!” The two girls giggled, as Luz removed her hands from her eyes. “Close!” While they interacted, Luz glanced over her shoulder to see Edric glaring darkly at her. A little unnerved, she waves as she gave an awkward smile. “Hey Edric! How’ve you been? C’mon, give me a high-five!” Holding up her hand, she chuckled nervously when Edric refused, simply staring at her with an evil glare. “Don’t leave me hanging??” Y/N took it upon herself to high-five the human. “Ok! Luz and I gotta be getting to class Edric. See you after school?” The green-haired witch finally smiled, his dark attitude disappearing for a moment as he talked to Y/N. “Of course kitten! See you then!” Y/N waved goodbye, grabbing Luz’s hand as they headed to class. Luz felt her face heat up when her witch crush did so. Yes, Y/N was Luz’s crush. She tried covering her face as they walked. This didn’t go unnoticed by the Blight twin, though. Watching them go, he growled to himself. “You won’t get a chance to be with Y/N, Luz. I’ll make sure of that.” Luz and Y/N had just finished their first two classes, and were making their way to the cafeteria. Edric watched them enter, observing how Luz blushed whenever Y/N smiled, or laughed aloud. Eyes narrowing, he felt his sister place a hand on his shoulder. “Hey Ed, you ok? You’re spacing out again.” Smiling at his sister, he replied that he was fine, probably just sick. Emira didn’t really believe him, but let him be. Back with Luz and Y/N, they had sat down with Willow, Gus and Amity. As the gang laughed and chatted, Y/N felt something land in her hair. Another table erupted into laughter as Boscha threw more of her lunch, this time hitting Willow. “Oops, sorry weirdos! Just practising for Grudgby! And you happen to be my target!” Throwing another part of her lunch, Luz huffed angrily. “Didn’t she learn her lesson last time?!” The bell went off, signifying the end of lunch. Sighing, Y/N got up. “I’m just gonna go clean myself up. You guys can just go ahead to class. Willow, do you wanna come with?” Willow nodded shyly, still glancing over to the pink-haired demon witchling. Boscha glared back at her, smirking. Luz stood up as well. “I’ll come too! I can help!” She yelled eagerly. Laughing, Y/N and Willow let her come. After leaving the bathroom, Y/N let Luz and Willow head back to class while she went for her lockers. Upon arriving, Boscha was leaning against it, throwing a rock up and down in one hand. “Heya nerd, thought you needed some company.” She smirked, throwing the rock at the H/C-coloured witch. Y/N lifted her arms for protection, dropping her belongings. Boscha let out a laugh. “Here, let me help you with that-“ “Boscha, Principal Bump wants to talk to you immediately.” The two female witched looked up to see Edric. Y/N was relieved. Boscha scoffed. “What does he want me for? What did I do?” Edric only smiled. “He says it’s important. Now, would you please follow me?” He says kindly, walking away. Boscha shrugs, following the Blight. Y/N picked up the rest of her books, rushing away to her class. “So, what does Bump want me for? And where are we going?” Boscha says. Edric smirked. All was going according to plan. “Just in this room right here.” He says, stopping as he held open a door. Boscha looked inside, scrunching her nose at the smell. “Why this room? And where’s-“ She was cut off as Edric pushed her in. She let out a yelp as she stumbled, catching herself in time as she turned angrily towards the Blight twin. “What the hell?! Who do you thi-“ “Just someone who’s gonna make you pay for hurting my kitten.” Edric smirked darkly, producing a flame in one hand. Boscha gasped, backing up. “Th-that’s not real! You’re an illusionist! It can’t hurt me!” She shrieked. Edric’s smirk didn’t falter, advancing on the witchling he brought it closer to her face. Boscha’s face paled as she felt the heat come closer and closer. “Does it feel like an illusion to you?~” After school was finished, Y/N was on her way back home. She glanced around nervously. Boscha was no where to be seen, but seeing as she’d pretty much harassed her a few hours before…it kinda put her on edge. Watching all the students walk by, she waited patiently for Edric. After seeing he wasn’t coming, she let out a sigh. Maybe he was busy? It didn’t matter. I’ll just head home by myself. Walking along the streets of Bones Marrow, she glanced around at the residents. Busy marketers yelled out their products to passerby’s, while demon and bounty hunters wondered the streets, glaring at anyone stupid enough to get in their way. As she walked by a dark alley way, Y/N felt someone grab her arm roughly, pulling her into the darkness. She tried to scream, but a hand covering her mouth prevented her from doing that. Kicking and screaming into the hand, the monster hauled her away to an unknown location. She tried making a circle in the dirt underneath her, but failed miserably. “Hey!” Someone shouted off to the side, and Y/N only saw a golden mask before the monster holding her let out a grunt of pain, dropping her. Falling on her knees, Y/N scrambled to her feet, facing the monster and her saviour. The monster was lying on the ground, and her saviour was walking over to her. “Are you ok ma’am?” He asked kindly. Y/N immediately knew who he was, bowing down on one knee. “Th-thank you, Golden guard! How can I repay you?” She stuttered. The Golden guard was silent for a while, looking down curiously at the witchling at his feet. Smirking under his mask, he held out his hand. “Well, you can start by calling me Hunter Darl.” He said. Y/N took his hand shakily, blushing a bit at the nickname. “And may I know your name, m’lady?” “I-i’m Y/N. Y/N L/N.” She replied back, feeling a little more comfortable in the mans presence. Hunter looked around for a bit. “You on your way back home? Maybe I could assist you? Make sure you get back safe and sound.” He offered. Y/N nodded her head eagerly, not wanting to be left alone again. The two headed off, leaving the dead body behind them. “Thank you for walking back, Hunter.” Y/N said shyly. The two had just arrived back at the L/N manor, and were about to part ways. Hunter waved his hand about. “No problem. Anything for a cutie like you.” Y/N felt a flush on her cheeks, and she smiled. Leaning forward, she placed a hand on Hunter’s mask. “May I?” After a moment of hesitation, he nodded. Taking off the mask, Y/N gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Nice to finally see my saviour’s face.” She giggled, running off up the steps and inside the house. Hunter felt his heart flutter, his eyes widening in adoration as he watched the female witchling run up the steps and out of view. “So, you helped my kitten get home safely. Well done. You can go now.” Hunter turned to see a green-haired male witch walk out of the shadows, glaring daggers into him. A little taken aback, Hunter smirked at the newcomer. “And you’d be?” “Edric Blight. Now run along Golden guard. You wouldn’t want to become a part of my list.” He smiled maliciously. Hunter wasn’t scared so easily. Walking away, he smirked at the Blight. “See you tomorrow Blight.” Watching the guard go, Edric scowled. Guess there’ll be another body to bury later. The next morning… Y/N walked out of the her home, smiling widely at the boy waiting out front for her. “Edric! I’m so glad you’re here! Where were you last night? I waited outside Hexside for you, but you didn’t show!” Edric placed an arm around the female witchling’s waist. “Sorry kitten, I was…busy.” He said. Y/N blushed a little at the nickname, but kept her composure. “Oh, it’s fine! Just tell me next time, please?” Edric smiled. “Alright kitten." They finally reached school, and Y/N noticed a familiar blonde-haired witchling walking around Hexside, wearing a yellow uniform. He seemed to be glancing around for someone. She started frantically waving her arms, causing Edric to glance at her in concern. “HUNTER! HI!” The blonde witchling looked up, his face brightening as he spotted Y/N. Jogging over, he almost tripped as Y/N hugged him. “I can’t believe you’re here! I didn’t know you went to Hexside!” She exclaimed excitedly. Hunter blushed, scratching his neck for a minute. “Yeah uh, I just transferred from Glandus. So how are you this fine day, m’lady?” He questioned, as the H/C pulled away. Hunter glanced up to see Edric glaring at him. Edric leaned forward. “Well, sorry to interrupt kitten, but we gotta head to class-“ he said in the most innocent voice he could muster. Y/N shrugged, looking at the clock in front of the school. “Well, we still have 10 minutes. There’s no need to rush Edric! We have plenty of time!” She said. Before Edric could say anything else, Luz came up to the group. “Hey guys! Y/N! You’ll never guess what I found on my way to school!” She shrieked, jumping up and down in excitement. Y/N tilted her head curiously, walking over to the human. “What is it? A new demon? Ooh! Another hide-out?!” Luz blushed, grinning widely. “It’s a surprise! I’ll show you tonight after school! Meet me here after last period?” She asked. Y/N nodded her head excitedly. “Of course!” The bell went off, and Y/N gasped. “Oh shoot! We gotta go! See you after school Edric! See ya Hunter!” Y/N rushed, grabbing onto Luz’s hand as they ran off to class together. The two boys watched them go, filled with jealousy and hatred. “I see that there’s another rival.” Hunter muttered, and Edric hummed in agreement. Turning to the guard, he eyed him down. “Well, I guess I won’t be able to get rid of you. But maybe together, we can get rid of the human. That way, she won’t get in between us.” Hunter smirked. “Are you proposing we work together to win Y/N’s affection? Instead of against each other?” “Exactly. So?” “You’ve got yourself a deal, friend.” At lunch, Y/N, Luz, Gus, Willow and Amity were sitting together. Hunter came up to their table, glancing around nervously as he carried a notepad and pen. Reaching the table, he tapped Luz on the shoulder. “E-excuse me.” The human turned to him, smiling brightly. “Oh, hi! What can I do for you?” She asked. Hunter almost smiled at her innocent aura, but kept himself under control. “I-uh, I’m doing an assignment on heroic figures, and since you’re the one who saved Eda the Owl lady at the petrification ceremony, i wanted to ask if I could interview you?” He asked nervously, giving a small, hopeful smile to Luz. Luz was thrilled with the idea. “Of course! When would you like to do it!” “W-would right now be too much?” “Of course not!” Standing up, Luz announced that she’d be back soon. Walking out of the cafeteria with Hunter, Edric followed a few minutes later, making sure no one saw as he left.

Y/N was waiting outside of Hexside once again. She sighed, watching all the students once again walk by. Yet, there was no human amongst them. Where was Luz? She said she’d be here! Two pairs of hands landed on Y/N’s shoulders. “What’s wrong kitten?” “You look upset Darl.” Y/N turned to the male witches. “Luz said she was going to show me something, but I guess she forgot all about me.” She said, hurt filling her voice. Edric wrapped a comforting arm around her. “Hey, it’s ok Kitten. If you want, we can show you our special place!” He said. Hunter looped his arm through hers. “Yeah! We found it together! How does that sound?” Y/N smiled gratefully at the two male witches. “Thank you Hunter. Thank you Edric. I would love to see it.” Walking along a forest path, Hunter and Edric kept the directions in mind as they made their way to “their” secret place. “Not far to go kitten.” Edric said. Entering a clearing, Y/N gasped at the sight of a small creek running through a cove. “It’s beautiful! Thank you guys!” She exclaimed, giving both boys a kiss on the cheek. Sitting by the creek, they peered up at the night sky. Edric and Hunter smirked to each other. Luz the human was very helpful. Getting the information out of the human was easy. Disposing of the body was the hard part.

A/N: OH MY GOD THAT WAS SO FREAKING CHEESY AND BAD AT THE SAME TIME I’M SORRY-

[taechaos]

No More

from Textbook Love drabble series

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: dark romance, college au

synopsis: Perhaps love isn’t all you need to be with Jungkook. Maybe it's a sign you and him weren't meant to be.

warnings: fluff, daddy kink, public sex, degredation, mild angst

word count: 6.7k

a/n: dedicated to a good old gemini, known as pretzel anon. happy birthday! this was shit! 💞 can someone let me know if i made a stupid mistake i was really high while writing this lol

If every couple goes at their own pace, how does one know if the relationship is rushed or a slow burn? What is considered a date, and how many do you have to go on to stop calling it a date? Maybe there’s a book called Dating for Dummies.

Jungkook has taken you out once: a fast food meal on the curb across your campus. Romance is subjective, so you thought it to be very romantic when he fed you a french fry under the streetlights while you were too stuffed to finish your food. “I paid for it,” he’d said, “so you have to eat it all.”

“I’ll eat anything from your hand,” you’d replied bashfully. He got a bit awkward after that, and you regretted saying it until he began feeding you and even holding your drink to your mouth. It was a successful first date, but you wanted it to last longer; feel your heartbeat out of rhythm with every smile he threw at you until the sun came up. Unfortunately for you, he walked you to your dorm a little after dinner.

Luckily for you, you know that wasn’t your first and last date. You’re going to ask him out for the second one because it’s a beautiful day outside and you’ve studied all morning for your finals to clear up your schedule for Jungkook. A walk in the park sounds nice, then a picnic, maybe he’ll even hold your hand! Is it too soon for another date though? It’s only been less than a day… 

You’re wearing your favorite outfit for the occasion: a pale blue floral dress that has a rectangular collar on the chest—without cleavage, God forbid—and sandal heels to match. You even styled your hair, and hopefully dressing to impress works; you don’t want him to say no. The current issue is finding Jungkook, and you don’t want to be that person, but you’re avoiding calling him in case you bust him with another girl by searching instead. It makes you guilty for having trust issues, but infidelity has its impacts.

Regardless of your internal concerns, you’re happily humming as you skip on the sidewalk, checking every corner for a certain someone. So far no such luck, and if he isn’t in his dorm, and if he doesn’t go off campus on Sundays, where could he be? In someone else’s dorm…?

“Stop,” you scold yourself with a roll of your eyes and continue your hunt. Next location: the back of the building. The front is cleared out, so is the dorm; what’s happening in the most secretive area? “God,” you sigh. Is this how your thinking process has always been? You hope it is.

The beat in your steps has gone missing when you’re rounding the exterior of the building because of your reluctance. You’re contemplating calling him until you see the back of a man with a girl in front of him by the benches, presumably kissing from the smacking noises. You clench your phone in your dress pocket as you watch them, hesitant to find out who the guy is.

“Jun–” Your voice goes quiet when you see the tattoo of a dragon on his shoulder, peeking out from his black loose tank top. It’s not Jungkook’s tattoo. You bite your lip and ignore the relief in your tight muscles; he’s dating you now, that’s what he said. It’s different, so there’s no point in worrying about his loyalty. 

You shake your hands off and walk faster to the taboo spot. There’s no point in worrying, there isn’t, not when he told you he would make it up to you. There’s no reason for your heart to race from expecting the worst when you make the final turn.

A shaky breath leaves you and a small smile follows when you see him smoking with his friends by the back exit. There are four people with him, Taehyung included, who is sharing a cigarette with him. He notices you first because he’s facing you whereas Jungkook is facing the clear forest across. He waves you over with a wide grin, his eyes lighting up.

“I see a pretty girl at 9 o’clock,” Taehyung says and Jungkook turns his head, the rest following his lead. You take tiny strides while approaching them and bite down on a shy smile.

“Hi,” you greet in a small voice. Your eyes immediately lock with Jungkook’s, who looks baffled.

“Hey yourself,” Taehyung greets back. “Care to share?” He holds a burning cigarette out to you with a slight bow, as if offering you a rose.

“She doesn’t smoke,” Jungkook answers for you without looking away. Is he displeased?

“Have you ever tried it?” he persists before inhaling the stick and blowing it in your face. You cough and hold a fist to your mouth, shaking your head. Jungkook slaps the back of his head before taking the cigarette from him and putting it out on the wall he’s leaning against. “You owe me a whole pack now.”

“Care to introduce us?” a guy you don’t know asks curiously. 

“Oh, right–”

Jungkook cuts him off before putting names onto the three strangers’ faces, Namjoon being the one who asked for the introduction, and when he comes to you, he says, “Meet… my girlfriend.”

“Thought you said she was a lousy nerd, Taehyung,” Yoongi comments before chugging from his flask. “Doesn’t look like it to me.” Taehyung chuckles uncomfortably before rubbing the nape of his neck as you tilt your head at him, the glint in your eyes never fading at Jungkook’s words.

“I didn’t get a close look at her before, didn’t know she was a real beauty,” he recovers with a flirt. Another slap on the back of his head. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Seokjin diverts the topic. He appears very nice and seems to be the only one not smoking. His friendly smile puts you at ease and you politely tell him, “The pleasure is all mine.” Good first impression on all of Jungkook’s friends: check.

Your boyfriend ignores the interaction and stares at you until you gaze at him as well. “What are you doing here?” You can’t read his expression.

“I wanted to ask you…” you play with your fingers nervously, “if you wanted to go to the park with me?”

Jungkook quirks a brow as Namjoon and Seokjin wiggle their brows, Taehyung frowns, and Yoongi smirks. Quite brave of you to ask him out in front of his smoker friends, and it’s impressive that you play into such a role of textbook love: only caring about what your crush thinks. When Jungkook peeks to see their reactions, more or less weighing their judgement, he’s satisfied when he realizes none of them give a flying fuck about him being with a girl next door; someone outside of his type of rather than a free escort, really. 

He doesn’t care about what they think when he smiles down at you and says, “Let’s go.” You bounce on your heels when he swings his arm over your shoulder and walks away from the scene. The unsteady heartbeat is back for the same reason as last time, but you’re waiting to request something else.

The park near the university is peaceful with groups of friends hanging out; couples sitting on benches; the sun shining down on the trees and grass as you aim for the ice cream stand. You try to muster up the courage to ask him first, but you’re feeling courageous as you pull away from his arm and instead latch onto his hand and intertwine your fingers. You glance at him with a blush to see his reaction, but he doesn’t look at you and only squeezes your hand nonchalantly. His grip is tighter than yours. Maybe it’s from the heat, but his cheeks are tinted in a light pink shade. 

You stumble on your heels when you stare at him for too long, but you recover from a fall last second. He holds onto you anyway, furrowing his brows at your shoes. “High heels? Are you trying to reach my height?”

“You like them,” you giggle and continue your struts more carefully. When he frowns, you worry, “Do I not look good in them?” 

“Why would I like them if you can’t walk in them? You look pretty in flats too.” 

After a whole afternoon of eating ice cream, blushing at anything nice Jungkook said, listening to his music while sitting under the sun, the evening has come. Throughout the day, you were dreading the end of it because every second with him is so enjoyable. The warmth of his hand when you play with his fingers is a feeling you never want to forget, and you didn’t notice the little smile on his face when you were lying on his chest as he watched you do the most endearing and innocent thing one could think of. 

“So precious,” he’d thought. It makes the argument from yesterday feel all the more terrifying when he remembers how close he had gotten to losing this moment. It’s nothing he’s ever experienced or even seen before; plain jackpot.

You’re off the school grounds as you walk on the streets passing cafés with Jungkook, hands locked and feeling perfect. You wonder if he has ever done this with anyone before, but then he’s never been in a relationship. Who are the people that comment in his Instagram posts then? A question strikes you, and you admire his side profile as you ask, “You don’t like it when people call you– Ah!” Your balance wavers as you stumble again, this time falling on your knees after your ankle bends. With the pain tolerance of a baby’s, your eyes instantly water and you let go of his hand as you hold onto your ankle. It’s sprained.

“Shit, are you okay?” He crouches down and picks you up bridal style before sitting you down on a nearby chair. The café’s lights allow him to see the scrape on your knee and the bump on your ankle. “Hey, hey, don’t cry now,” he rubs your injury soothingly as he cringes at your tears. He doesn’t know how to comfort you as you whimper and sniffle. 

“Damn these heels,” you cry quietly. 

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise at your wording. “This is my second time hearing you swear. Swearing apparently helps with pain though. Say ‘fuck’.”

A chuckle leaves your mouth, but you decide to try it anyway; the throbbing muscle hurts too much. “F-Fuck.”

“Fuck these heels,” he encourages.

“Fuck these fucking heels,” you level. Maybe the theory is correct, because it feels slightly better when he laughs at your rare vulgarity. A minute passes with you trying to keep your tears at bay while he lightly massages your wound.

When he notices you calm down, he asks, “I don’t like it when people call me…?”

You sniffle and rub your eyes before saying a few seconds later, “Daddy.”

He blinks, stares at you, and his heart skips a beat. With your soft pout and red nose, you look so little to him. “... Yes?”

“Huh?”

“Oh,” he smoothly snaps out of his shock, “I don’t have that kink… Um, say it again?”

“Daddy?” 

It sounds different hearing it from you. Without the drawn out whine or the eggplant emoji next to it, and with your voice, it actually sounds cute. “What does that word mean to you?” he shifts the conversation with a subtle blush.

“I don’t know. You call a fatherly figure daddy, right? A man who takes care of you. People say it during sex too. You’re being a daddy right now.”

“Stop,” he warns lowly, “we’re in public.” He stands up from his kneeling position and picks you up in his arms again. “Have you ever called anyone that?” 

You clasp your hands behind his neck as he walks with ease, as if he isn’t carrying anyone in the first place. “No. My dad walked out on my mom when I was little, and I haven’t met anyone who treats me like you do.”

“Wait, you… think of me as your… daddy?” His eyes are wide and he’s gaping at the path in front of him with knitted brows. He looks so intimidating when you scrutinize his features, but you know he’s just flustered. You timidly nod against his shoulders. “Christ. Why?”

Your answer isn’t immediate because you don’t want to come off as too strong, but he’s impatient as he squeezes your waist. “I know you don’t want people to call you that,” you whisper understandingly, “but you’re so mean to others, and you hurt anyone who upsets you.” He rolls his tongue around his cheek uncomfortably. “Whether it be with words or actions. But you’re so sweet to me… You can be really rude, but you care a lot too. You don’t even smoke around me,” you laugh lightheartedly. 

“I mean, you are a baby. You make it difficult to not treat you like one,” he jokes with a hint of truth. You snuggle into his neck with a lopsided grin and your breath fans his tan skin. “I don’t like being an asshole to you, but I’m not exactly a nice person either.”

“You’re carrying me to my dorm,” you point out as a counter.

“I’m only nice to you; somewhat. And… I don’t like being called daddy by horny women, or men for that matter. I’ve never liked it, so I’m not exactly sure why I’m hard right now.” You tense against him. “Something about your sweet, innocent voice calling me daddy is really fucking hot.” He sighs to collect his thoughts; he can’t wait until he’s in your room. It would just be torture. “Did you get on birth control, baby?” He keeps his volume low in case of someone eavesdropping.

“Yes,” you mumble and grow nervous at what he’s thinking.

“Good girl,” he exhales and swiftly enters an empty alley between two restaurants. “Quite the slut too, telling me all this in a crowd.”

“I’m sorry,” you breathe as he presses you against the wall and has you wrapping your legs around his waist. He’s so thoughtful, carrying you even when he’s shaming you so you don’t put pressure on your injured foot. The shadows casting from the walls in the narrow space limits your vision, but you don’t need to see anything when he’s doing all the work by rendering you immobile from the press of his hips.

“Good choice with the dress,” he says while pulling out his belt and releasing the buckle. You hold onto him tightly without the security of his hands. He pushes his jeans down and has you towering over him by adjusting your position from the back of your thighs. Your breathing is quick and shallow from the anxious anticipation of the raw stretch, but he’s so nice to you today: he shoves your panties to the side and rubs your folds to collect your arousal as lube. He’s being thoughtful by relaxing your walls with his fingers first, and you bite down on a moan at the sensation. He’s still taking care of you by silencing you with a bruising kiss. 

“Thank you,” you sigh against his lips. His two knuckles are deep inside you as they curl and scissor. As nice as he is, he’s also very impatient and it’s not long before you feel his tip lightly poking at your entrance. 

“Ideal for a quick fuck.” He flashes a dazzling smile before it falters in order to concentrate on positioning himself. He closes his eyes and bites his lip as he slowly enters you, a lot more gentle considering the setting and knowing how vocal you get. A hum rumbles in his throat as you gasp when he’s halfway inside. When he bottoms out, he waits a few seconds for you to adjust before his rough nature returns. “You gonna stay quiet for me, little girl?”

“I’ll try.” Your heart is pounding in your chest when he leans in your ear, his breath tickling your neck. 

“You know that’s not what I wanna hear,” he whispers. He isn’t going to fuck you until you say what he wants, and your diffidence doesn’t make an appearance when his fingers are digging so hard into your thighs, his breath is hot on your skin, and he’s completely nestled inside you.

You lean into his ear as well, and meekly say, “I’ll try my best, daddy.” You can feel him shiver under your hands and hear him grunt, “God,” before he starts moving. Fast. You’d think he’s in a rush from how his pace picked up so quickly—roughly—but he may have just discovered his new kink. 

There’s no point in being quiet when the slam of his cock is enough noise deep in the alley, and he realizes that before you do. You’re bouncing in his arms, mouth open in a silent scream with only huffs leaving to not expose your doings, until he growls, “Say it again. Again and again.”

The chilly breeze from the night weather doesn’t affect you when he has you flush against him, and heat creeps all over your body not only from his hard and impatient thrusts but also from his words. “Daddy,” you whine, the same drawn out whine that he used to hate hearing; it makes his abs contract and clench now, a groan catching in his throat. He sounds almost animalistic, and your eyes screw back in pleasure. 

“Quiet, you fucking slut,” he reminds with a following moan. 

“I-I’m sorry, daddy,” you whisper in a strained voice. You can’t keep your vocal cords steady when he’s knocking the breath out of you every time he hits your cervix so deliciously. Jungkook’s a total paradox when he’s being so aggressive yet sweet at the same time, but it feels too good for you to complain. Your head is in the clouds when he bites on your shoulder to practice what he preaches: being quiet. 

“Do you love me?” Maybe that’s not the way you should go on about asking to hear his sweet nothings, because he bites you so hard that you feel his teeth break your skin. 

“The fuck kind of question is that?” he snarls. He licks a drop of your blood off of his lips when he faces you, but the bruising pistoning of his cock doesn’t differ; maybe slams into you even harder. “Hm? Answer me, dumb little slut.” He pinches your thigh cruelly, emitting a pained gasp from you.

 “I just want to hear you say it, please daddy,” you mewl. “I love you so much.”

“Keep fucking begging.”

You initially thought Jungkook became more honest and affectionate when you’re being intimate, but it seems that one word brings out a different side to him: wild and sadistic. Perhaps there are two sides of him being a daddy, one not so much of a fatherly figure. Controlling, dominating, and violent. You’ve received too many bruises in one night.

“Please, please, please, pretty please,” you comply in a cry and hug him tighter.

“Missing something,” he tuts with a breathless laugh. “I love you, stupid girl, more than anything.” He stops ramming into you, and the drag of his throbbing length loses its pace but not its strength. “So, so fucking much,” he strains before slamming into you one last time for his release. With him stuck brushing against your sensitive spot and his shaky moan, your lashes flutter and you clench down on him with the intoxicating wave of your orgasm coursing through your trembling figure. You whimper his name as his cum fills you, the warmth coating your walls while you lose your sense of awareness. 

“Stand on one leg,” he breathes. You know he’s referring to your safe foot, so you disentangle your legs from his waist and stand. The only sound aside from the drown out dialogues from the restaurants nearby is your panting. Though he’s just as drained of energy as you are, he adjusts your dress and underwear for you, even fixing your hair before he pulls up his pants and lifts you. “Don’t call me that around others by the way– especially Taehyung.”

“I promise,” you assure with a chuckle.

The next day, a dreadful Monday, is not so bad when you get to link with your boyfriend and other friends by your usual spot on the benches. You don’t have a lot of lectures throughout the day, and you sit next to Jungkook who’s chatting with Taehyung and Yoongi after your long morning lecture in the afternoon. You peck his cheek as a greeting with a lovesick grin, and the former annoyed look on his face vanishes when he sees you. Soyeon and Minnie are close by, and thankfully there’s no tension between anyone. You’re forgiving, but you aren’t going to forget.

“So you two are actually back together, huh?” Taehyung says with a mocking smile. “What goes around comes around, Kookie.”

“Taehyung, you’re not making this any easier on yourself,” Yoongi murmurs.

Jungkook scoffs and rolls his tongue around his cheek—an irritated habit. “Well then Tae, I’m going to be polite and ask you to not be a homewrecker.”

“I have been hanging around Soyeon too much lately…” he jokes with a tilt of his head.

“Don’t turn this on me,” she says with a quirked brow, tone as soft as Jungkook remembers. You sit back and sigh at their bickering. “I didn’t know his name, you have no excuse to be flirting with her.”

“He isn’t–” You can’t get a word in when Jungkook agrees, “She’s fucking right, you know. Stop tailing around me to get a look up at her skirt.”

“I am not–"

“Oh for God’s sake,” Yoongi sighs like you do. Both of you share a guilty look, apologizing on each other’s behalf. It’s only when you start tracing the tattoos on Jungkook’s arm that he finally looks at you.

“You like it?” he asks, a bit smugly. You nod with a tiny smile. His tongue darts out to lick his lips before he pecks yours, and says, “I’ll add your name to the collection. Thinking of inking my knuckles.”

A blush from his kiss, and a bashful smile from his idea graces your face when you cutely pout, “No…” He laughs at your very obviously fake denial and closes in on you, teasing in a whisper, “Yeah? You like that?”

“Look at you two being so adorable,” Taehyung interrupts with a dreamy sigh, “but I want ice cream.” He holds his hands up by his elbows on the oak table and leans his face on them with fluttering eyelashes. “Kookie? Ice cweam? Pwease?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jungkook winces at the disgustingly cutesy face he makes, and you release a humoured breath at the friendlier banter. “Go buy it yourself, moron.”

“I don’t have money and I want her tea on how you two made up,” he flutters his lashes again with his fingers intertwined; begging so silly. “Pretty please.”

“Now I’m definitely not going to leave you alone with her.”

“Baby,” you interject, and his eyes widen at the nickname. “I want ice cream too.”

He flashes a quick glare at Taehyung, easily giving into your needs with a sigh. “You’re paying, fuckface.” He snatches his wallet the moment it’s out of his pocket and walks off while spinning it between his fingertips.

“He stole my fucking wallet,” he frowns without offence. “Oh well. So…” his eyes trail to you with a mischievous glint, “you never smoked before, right?”

You shake your head, a bit curious—albeit amused—as to where he’s going with this. 

“You wanna know something? Jungkook reeeaaally likes smokers,” he stretches his hands for emphasis. It piques your interest, and you raise a brow. “I can teach you. We have to do it fast, before he comes from the store. Okay?”

“Um… okay,” you laugh as he switches seats from across you to Jungkook’s spot. 

He takes out his pack where his lighter is also stuffed as he speaks, “So what I’m gonna do is teach you how to shotgun.”

“You can’t do that with a cigarette,” Yoongi states in boredom, a plain contrast to Taehyung’s hyperactivity. “Don’t listen to him. He’s lying to you.”

“Oh, shut the fuck– okay, sorry, didn’t mean to say that.” He turns to you with glimmering excitement, “It’ll be easier on you if we do it with a shotgun.” You merely shrug because you don’t even know what that means. He sticks a cigarette in his mouth before holding up a hand to his lighter, inhaling until the tip burns. Smoke flies past his lips as he explains, “You inhale from the filter, but don’t inhale too much. You’re going to cough, maybe feel a little lightheaded since it’s your first time, but try to hold it in, okay?” 

Taehyung peeks behind Yoongi before shifting his attention to you. He takes another drag from the cigarette but doesn’t exhale. “Okay,” you say with a nod, sharing his excitement at a new experience that Jungkook could potentially approve of. You can rely on Taehyung’s honesty, though the bad memory from before leaves a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach, but you’re ready to create better memories with him. He flips the stick until the filter is between your lips.

He wraps his lips around the tip and your eyebrows shoot up at the proximity. He holds your face between his large palms, and the cigarette is hidden behind his hands. He leans closer and nods at you, and you take the cue to inhale. You hear Yoongi blow out a deep breath just as you take in a shallow one. The urge to cough strikes you instantly, and you hold it in the best you can; your cheeks puff out as you slightly wheeze, and smoke leaves from both your mouth and nose. That’s when Taehyung pulls back, the intense eye contact gone, and you hear Yoongi scoff and the heavy footsteps of someone else. You cough into your hand when Taehyung slips it out of your mouth and holds it under the table.

“What the fuck?” Jungkook asks incredulously and throws three wrapped popsicles on the bench. You feel slightly dizzy when your small coughing fit ends, and you grow confused as to why your boyfriend is glaring at you with such intensity as his eyes flicker back and forth between you and Taehyung.

“Had to take you up on the homewrecker offer–” Taehyung’s sentence is cut off when Jungkook pulls him up by his collar, hesitates with his fist flying midway, then forcefully pushes him onto the pavement instead. He’s also confused– frantic, and doesn’t know what to do.

You’re semi-conscious of what he’s doing, but consuming nicotine for the first time leaves you feeling quite strange. You feel like you’ll stumble if you try to stand up, and slur if you speak, so you just wait it out.

“What– Why are you just sitting there?” he asks you with violent gestures. “What the fuck?” He holds onto his head, and all of your friends are quiet as they watch him. They must have missed you smoking for the first time. Yoongi waits for him to stop pacing.

“It’s not what you think, Jungkook,” Yoongi calmly tells him. What is he thinking though? “I know it looked–”

“The fuck it did! Right fucking in front of me? How the fuck are you so calm?” he yells. 

“Hm?” you say. He watches you in astonishment: bottom lip jutting out and brows scrunched. If he didn’t see you shamelessly kissing Taehyung out in the open, he would be doubting his own vision because of how unbothered you seem. It bewilders him; why aren’t you reacting at all?

“They weren’t–”

“It took almost one fucking week of dating for you to resort to this?” Taehyung is still on the ground as he sends you a warning glance, Yoongi is unbothered by the ordeal because he’s constantly interrupted, and Jungkook is fuming at you while you just sit there.

“I was just curious,” you relate to the cigarette that is still lit beneath the grass next to Taehyung.

An astounded laugh is his only response as Taehyung smiles at you, but you’re only looking at Jungkook. “And here I thought, like a fucking idiot, that you were the only girl unlike my mother. And you,” he looks at his old friend with menace, “show your face around me, and I won’t hold back again. God, I need to kill someone,” he sighs before storming off. So he doesn’t like cigarettes?

When the fog in your mind begins to clear up, you stand to go after him just as Taehyung blocks your path. “I need to tell him I won’t smoke again,” you try to push him aside, but he doesn’t budge.

He laughs. “It’s not about that. He thinks you and I kissed because I made it look like it.” Just as you’re about to confront him, he clarifies, “Listen, I just want his reaction on this, okay? Don’t you want him to feel how you felt when he kissed your friend?”

“I’m over that.”

“Are you though?” No, you aren’t. “Aren’t you paranoid? All nervous when he’s around other girls? Or even when he’s just not around you?” Your silence prompts him to continue, “You’ll truly forgive him if you take revenge. You know he won’t do it again if he feels the same way you felt.”

“But that’s cruel…” you try to reason.

“And what he did wasn’t?” 

Like the little devil on your shoulder, he enters your mind and reads it for his own agenda. What is his intention? Do what he couldn’t do with his ex? Is he… helping you? What he did was bad, so why aren’t you calling him out for it?

“What do I do?” you dodge his question. He knows the answer anyway.

He smiles with satisfaction. “Let’s talk it over a few cigarettes, hm?”

Back to square one– no, square zero. At square one, you could at least interact with Jungkook, do his homework and have him kiss you when he was satisfied; you don’t have anything to do with him now. Taehyung warned you of this, told you Jungkook would start seeing other people and avoid you unless he wanted to hurt you. How he knows him so well is beyond you, because that’s exactly what happens in the next four days.

You watch him from afar like before, see that scowl on his face that you haven’t seen in a long time after you met. Only two aspects have changed: the eye contact and Taehyung’s lack of presence around him. Jungkook’s eyes are always on you, filled with so much disdain and hatred, even when he’s kissing another girl. Smoking stops you from crying because of how dizzy you get, and Taehyung is always with you – waiting. Both of you are waiting for Jungkook to do something, and it’s a surprise Taehyung still hasn’t been beaten to a pulp for just talking to you.

Maybe it’s a sign that you and him weren’t meant to be. In the span of a short while when you were together, only problems have surfaced. So much misery and anger in a relationship isn’t normal; it’s toxic. But you wait anyway.

“Look at him glaring at you with a girl on his lap,” Taehyung chuckles before lighting up his cigarette. He’s leaning on the wall next to the campus entrance with you.

“Nothing new,” you croak and take a drag from yours, coughing again. It’s déjà vu, if anything. One has to learn from their mistakes to reach success, right? This situation is just one of them for the better of your relationship. Has to be. 

“Worldstar,” he sings with a laugh. “I kind of miss hanging out with him, though; and the rest of my friends.”

“Yeah.” You can’t exactly pay your utmost attention to his words when you’re having a staring contest with Jungkook, who is practically devouring the unidentified girl’s mouth. It doesn’t sting as much as long as he has his eyes on you because you know what it means now: he’s trying to make you jealous. You didn’t know that before, but you didn’t know Jungkook as well as you do now before either. 

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“You somehow always do.”

Your reply humors him. “You want to go up to him, tell him what I did. But you know I’ll stop you.” His eyes squint as his cheeks hollow to inhale the nicotine. It’s a Marlboro Red, not exactly fit for a starter like yourself. You hate that you can’t even stand without using the wall as a leverage, but the effect is a necessary distraction.

 “Why are you… so invested in this?”

He shrugs. “It may not seem like it, but it’s going to help strengthen your bond. It also gives you enough time to stop liking him and fall for me instead, but that’s just a plus.”

“What?” you slur. The cigarette is hanging on for dear life between your fingertips because of how weak you feel.

“We should kiss– for real this time,” he blurts. “He’ll talk to you sooner. God, I really want to kiss you.” He drops his stick before grabbing your face and softly crashing his lips against yours. You don’t close your eyes, you don’t really do much of anything while he does what he wants. It goes on for twenty seconds before he slowly pulls back. “He’ll talk to you tonight,” he exhales. “You’re welcome.” He pecks you again.

You finally close your eyes and your head hangs limply. “You’re the real problem,” you murmur, “you keep tearing us apart. The villain.”

“That kiss was on me,” he admits, “but I’m just making you face reality. Sometimes you have to be the bad guy, right? Only reason I can smoke with you is because Jungkook cares a fuckton about me. I’ll make it up to you as well, when your relationship isn’t a fucking lie.”

Couples go at their own pace, don’t they? Maybe this is how long it’s supposed to take for you to be one with your betrayed boyfriend. This is the real beginning; Taehyung is just the catalyst. 

You see it when Taehyung is gone and Jungkook isn’t kissing back anymore. He isn’t even glaring. He’s just blank.

Perhaps love isn’t all you need to be with Jungkook.

It’s late in the evening and the nicotine still hasn’t worn off. You haven’t moved an inch from your spot and neither has Jungkook from a distance, still on the same curb across. The girl left when she didn’t receive any responses from him for a minute straight. An emotionless “fuck off” was enough for her to angrily storm off.

You have no idea where Taehyung went and you’re sitting on the ground with your knees to your chest and hands on your sides. Jungkook is staring at you from the bench. You just need to wait because he’s going to approach you like his friend told you.

People aren’t in the yard so it’s mostly empty in the open space. The lights from the streets and inside the building you have your back against don’t allow you to see your boyfriend clearly enough. He doesn’t have an issue with making out your features though. That kicked puppy expression on your face is drawing him, but he hasn’t been cruel enough.

It’s been difficult treating you like shit, so he doesn’t bother. It’s pathetic anyway, more pathetic than having smeared lip gloss on his mouth that he hasn’t wiped off. He knows he shouldn’t be so immature – he’s twenty years old. He’s old enough to be able to communicate, but no one’s been making it easy for him.

He has to decide whether he wants to be with you or just end it all before he feels any worse. 

As the saying goes, no pain – no gain.

Jungkook slides down the wall and sits next to you after trudging in your way. It’s silent at first, and he doesn’t return your gaze when you look at him. You wait, and so does he. But he’s more impatient than you are; more hurt. 

“What did you see in him, for God’s sake?” His voice is tired; words merely a sigh. You stay patient. “I mean, right after I opened up to you? Why?”

“I was paranoid,” you croak quietly, as if you’re about to faint, “terrified of you being with someone else. Maybe if you felt what I felt…”

He lightly shakes his head. “No, you didn’t think of that on your own. You didn’t kiss him either.” You lean your head on his shoulder. “You didn’t want to smoke, didn’t want any of this to happen. What are you doing, my love?”

You sigh. “I didn’t do anything. I don’t do anything.” The issue is that you let yourself be manipulated and molded into anything Jungkook likes, but he’s never told you what he likes. “All I know is loving you. That’s it,” you shrug tiredly, “that’s all I do. Everything I do, I do for you.”

“I’ll ask you for one thing– okay, two. Scrub your fucking lips and never talk to that piece of shit again. I’m not friends with good people,” he turns to you, “I don’t want you around them. I’m stuck in a constant cycle of toxicity and you’re the only good fucking thing in my life right now. I don’t want you to smoke or talk with my friends.”

“Then why do you?”

He stammers, “I-I’m used to it, I don’t fucking know. I know how to protect myself, but you’re too… untainted for them. Look at us, we don’t even fucking dress similarly. You and I have nothing in common.” He huffs to himself and looks up to the sky. “If you know what’s good for you–”

“You are good for me,” you interject.

“Don’t fucking lie to yourself,” he scoffs at you, “I’m anything but good for you. Do I give a fuck though? No. I’m selfish, and I don’t want to lose you. But if you–”

“I don’t.”

“Okay.”

Another moment of silence passes. He’s the one to break it again. “I don’t want to have an issue like this ever again. No more infidelity, or whatever the fuck, no more silence. Communication, right?”

“Right. And no more getting involved with your social life.”

“Thank you,” he bows his head and licks his lips with a sigh. “I can’t deal with this again. I don’t want to leave like my dad, whore around like my mom; I just want to have normal fucking relationship problems.” His anxiety translates to his body language: nibbling, knee bouncing, cracking knuckles. He doesn’t like to talk about his family, friends or even you. You’re calmer in comparison. “Tell me… we’ll start over.”

“I’m not resetting my love for you,” you playfully nudge him.

The corner of his mouth curls. “Not like that. Let’s go back to you doing my homework.”

“Really?”

“I missed a fucking assignment today, okay?” he laughs. “I want to forget about all of this sad shit, you ever meeting my friends, Sooyen or whatever, all of it. Just you and me, okay?”

“Set our own pace,” you add with a nod. “No one interfering with our… bullshit.”

“Don’t fucking swear,” he puts a hand over your mouth and pushes your face with a wide grin. You giggle with him. 

Now that Taehyung and Soyeon’s over, there’s nothing left to chance with the involvement of someone else. Trust blooms instead, and it’s not so bad when Jungkook shares a cigarette with you as you take tiny puffs per his instruction. You are safe with him; not dizzy, lightheaded, manipulated, nothing. 

You’re happy, and so is he. Maybe that was the intention, but it means nothing. Taehyung sought vengeance through your relationship, and that’s that. No one can hold Jungkook against you when he’s in the palm of your hands, ready to tell you more than anyone else can offer. 

Jungkook’s love and trust: check.

When he flicks off the ash of his cigarette, you snuggle into him and whisper, “I love you daddy.” His ring glimmers under the moonlight as he pets your hair.

“Love you more, babygirl.”