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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 3 years

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I Don’t Like A Gold Rush || Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Jungkook is the golden boy, an excellent student, the star of you college's football team. Rumor has it, there's simply nothing he can't do. The same cannot be said about you, but you've never had an issue with that. You're happy with your small group of friends and your lack of talent in sports. And then, Jin befriends Jungkook, and you find yourself spending a lot of time with him. Before you know it, you've taken an interest in him — and you're sure you shouldn't. There's no way this can end well for you... right?

Also available on Ao3.

Word count: 17.3k

Genre: College AU, strangers to lovers, slice of life, mostly fluff

Warnings & Tags: discussed insecurities, alcohol consumption, reader almost has a panic attack at some point, shy jungkook, jungkook is bad at Feelings, Reader is bad at feelings too, mutual pining kinda, Jungkook has long hair, sfw, New Year’s Day themed.

A/N: I don’t know how I would name my stories without Taylor Swift. Anyway, this is more or less centered around the New Year (it was supposed to be more and then... it didn’t happen), and I hope you’ll enjoy it! Happy New Year everyone!

The first time you hear Jungkook’s name, it’s in the sentence “Man, is there anything Jungkook can’t do?”. You look up at your friend Jin from the book you’re studying. You have no idea who Jungkook is, but that doesn’t mean anything. Jin is always complaining about how you don’t know anyone on the campus, which you think is quite unfair.

…but then you really don’t know that many people on the campus.

“What’s going on?” you ask him, because he sounds extremely annoyed, and he shows you his phone. On it, there is a score for a basketball game. You think.

Your college is famous for its basketball team… Right?

“Uh-uh,” you still say with a nod, trying to make it look like you have any idea what you’re talking about.

“This kid is crushing it at school, the girls love him, and now this!” Jin complains, a little too loud, and shushing noises come from a spot behind you. You turn around to give the group an apologetic look. “I really shouldn’t have bet against him.”

Ah, there you know what to say.

“You really need to stop making bets. You never win them.”

Jin glares at you.

“And you are a terrible friend. You’re supposed to comfort me!”

“I’ll comfort you when you stop making the worst choices imaginable,” you mutter, going back to your work. Jungkook’s name, his supposed excellence, and that basketball match — if it even is basketball — leave your mind as fast as they entered it, without leaving a trace behind.

“So the school’s won another basketball game, huh?”

You look up at Namjoon who’s just arriving to the table, holding his tray in his hands. You know he can’t possibly be talking to you about that, so you’re not surprised when Jin appears behind him. That doesn’t stop you from throwing Namjoon a disgusted look.

“Really, Joon? Sports?”

Namjoon shoots you an amused glance from behind his glasses. It’s notorious in your friends’ group that you despise conversations around that subject. You hate anything that involves objects flying around and anything that’s played in a team, and, apparently, those are the only sports that people care about. They could discuss athletics, or swimming, which you wouldn’t enjoy but you wouldn’t hate, but that never happens.

“You were right, Jin. That Jungkook guy really is impressive.”

You tune them out. You don’t care about basketball.

“You’re talking about yesterday’s game?” Yoongi asks, coming out of thin air, and you sigh. You had been hoping you would have at least one person to talk to during lunch.

“Jungkook’s friends with Hoseok,” Jin says, leaning forward conspiratorially, which does get your attention. If that’s true, then that Jungkook guy can’t be a completely terrible person. Hoseok is probably the nicest person you’ve ever met.

That being said, he might have very low standards for his friends. You know him enough to appreciate him, not to judge his tastes.

“So I’m going to become friends with him,” Jin announces triumphantly, only to be rewarded by a chorus of groans and protests.

“But why, Jin?” you ask. “Please don’t talk about popularity. This isn’t high school anymore.”

“And that stuff was already stupid back then,” Namjoon adds, and you nod. You can always count on Namjoon to support you.

“And I hate people,” Yoongi says.

“And Yoongi hates people!” Namjoon immediately picks up. “Do you really want to make him go through that?”

You grin at the question. Yoongi’s misanthropy always comes in handy. Jin, however, is not amused, but he just shakes his head disapprovingly. He’s used to the three of you teaming up against him by now. Usually, it’s on academical subjects, but he isn’t phased by it anymore regardless of that. Not that there’s much that can phase Jin anyway.

“First of all, I said I was going to be his friend, not you lowly peasants, and second, he seems like a nice guy! Do I need another reason to want to make friends?”

You tilt your head.

“He’s protesting too much,” you say.

“I agree,” Namjoon nods. “That’s suspicious.”

“Very suspicious.”

“Come on,” Jin rolls his eyes, “do you really think that little of me?”

“And now he’s trying to guilt-trip us. Joon, can’t you analyze that conversation and figure out what it all means?”

“You know that’s not how literary analysis works, right?” Jin asks you, but you ignore him.

“Actually, it is,” Namjoon says, pushing his glasses back on his nose. “I’d say you were right with your comment,” he adds, looking at you. “I’d say… this is about parties.”

“You’re not going to actually believe—”

“Thanks, Joon,” you say, and the two of you high-five without looking at each other. Yoongi lets out an appreciate whistle.

Even if Namjoon and you aren’t being serious about this, parties actually make sense. Jin… isn’t quite a social butterfly but, unlike the three of you, he does enjoy people’s company to some degree. You know first hand that he’s been to a few this year — you had accompanied him for moral support — but they were pretty tame, and you’re aware that he at least wants to try some more intense stuff. The problem was that those were harder to be invited to. Hoseok could probably do something about it, but he tends to avoid parties on campus.

“Okay, then you should go for it,” you nod.

Yoongi and Namjoon, sitting on either side of you, approve. Jin looks a little surprised at your reaction.

“That changed your mind?”

“You said you wanted ‘the full college experience’,” Namjoon explains with a shrug. “If you think that’s part of it, we wouldn’t want to hold you back.”

“We will judge you for it, though,” Yoongi warns without batting an eyelid, pokerface perfect, and you laugh. You won’t be mean about it, of course. You just might tease him a little.

“Thank you,” Jin says. “I’ll do it, then.”

Good. If you’re lucky, it will be out of his system next time you all have lunch together.

Lady luck had never been on your side, for as long as you could remember. It wasn’t like you got the worst of things either, but usually, things that could go wrong, did go wrong. Because of that, you tried your best to remove those things from your path. Sometimes, though, you just didn’t manage to identify them.

And that’s why, when you hear Jin’s voice and look up from your food, being the first at the table as always, you see he’s accompanied by two people.

One of them has fluffy, dark brown hair, falling on either side of his face and in his eyes. He’s talking and laughing, and there’s something that you can’t help but identify as mischievous in his smile. The other is slightly taller, with jet black hair held up in a bun. He’s quiet, mouth opening for silent laughs when his friend jokes. Between them, there’s Jin, and you think that they look good together. All handsome, all holding themselves with confidence.

You had realized before that Jin felt out of place in your group, from an outside point of view at least, but it’s never been as striking as it is now, as he’s walking with people he clearly belongs with.

It makes you really thankful that he’s your friend.

“Hey,” Jin says, smiling widely, “these are—”

“You’re untying your hair before eating?” you say, looking at the guy with the bun who just sat opposite from you and took off his hair tie with a sigh. He looks up at you with wide round eyes, like you just caught him red-handed — doing what, you’re not quite sure.

That is the first thing you ever say to Jeon Jungkook.

“Um. Yes?”

“Aren’t you afraid you’ll get hair in your food?”

You know people find you too blunt sometimes, think you come off as aggressive, but you almost never intend for that to happen. In that case, you just think the logic here is a bit surprising.

“That’s… a good point, actually.”

“(Y/N),” Jin sighs, “let me introduce you to Jungkook” (he points to the man who’s now tying his hair back up) “and Taehyung.” (he points to the other guy, who’s flashing you a smile.)

“Oh,” you say, looking back at Jungkook. “You play basketball.”

He lets out an awkward laugh and avoids your eyes. Instead, he grabs his fork and focuses on it, twirling it in his hand.

“Yeah, I do— I do that.”

Huh. It takes you a second to piece things together, and you think Namjoon will be of great help once he’ll be there, but for now, one conclusion comes to you.

Jungkook is shy.

“I play basketball too,” Taehyung says, leaning over the table, grinning at you, and you can tell that it’s his way of swooping in to save Jungkook. You can appreciate that.

“She hates basketball,” Jin warns.

“That’s a strong word,” you say, but only half-heartedly, because, well, you definitely don’t like it.

“I think it works.”

“You think what works?”

Jin’s face falls while you grin. If Taehyung is Jungkook’s savior, Namjoon is yours. Your friend sends you a questioning look as he sits next to you, facing Taehyung. He gives polite nods to the two basketball players, like they sit with you at lunch every week, but you notice that he doesn’t quite meet their eyes. Namjoon is not particularly shy, nor a misanthrope like Yoongi, he just isn’t too comfortable around people he’s just met.

You and Jin, well, you’re perhaps a little too comfortable. Not everyone likes it.

“He says I hate basketball.”

“But that would imply you care about basketball.”

“Exactly.”

“And you don’t.”

“I know.”

“Which means you don’t hate basketball. As always, you’re wrong, Jin.”

Jin looks extremely, extremely done with you, but when you and Namjoon high-five, Jungkook laughs quietly and Taehyung nods in appreciation — for the gesture, not the debate.

That is the moment when Yoongi drops his tray on the table and sends a weird glance towards Taehyung and Jungkook.

“What did I miss?” he asks. His tone is a bit dry, and you see Jin’s shoulders straightening. He knows Yoongi is going to be the most difficult one to win over. Not that you’ve been won over yet, but you’re not that difficult. Usually, people don’t like you, not the other way around. You don’t blame them. You’re not sure you’d like yourself very much if you were in their place.

“Oh,” Jungkook says spontaneously, “we had a class together last year! You’re majoring in engineering, right?”

Yoongi looks at him. His eyes are shining with suspicion, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. Knowing him, he’s definitely wondering why Jungkook would even remember him.

“Right,” he finally confirms, slowly.

There’s a moment of silence, which Namjoon breaks.

“I’m a literature major, by the way.”

“That’s really cool,” Jungkook comments honestly, with the same spontaneity he displayed earlier.

“And I’m in mathematics,” you say.

“Wow. I thought you people existed only in legends,” Taehyung says while Jungkook avoids your eyes. You decide that, yeah, you like Kim Taehyung.

“Don’t say that, I like maths,” Jungkook protests, voice soft, much to your surprise — and, judging by his reaction, Taehyung’s.

You were right, you decide. Jungkook is not a completely terrible person.

You didn’t expect it to become a routine, for Jungkook and Taehyung to eat with you guys, but it does, and as time goes on, other people join your little table. You’re not sure you like that. It’s clear that those people are orbiting around Jungkook, which, good for them, but you don’t see why you need to be there for that.

You do see that Jungkook is not completely comfortable with all of it. He’s good at handling people, good at making jokes and at laughing at the right times, you notice, but there is a stiffness in his shoulders more often than not, and it looks like he’s well-trained at it rather than enjoying it. It kind of reminds you of Jin, except Jin is not as quiet the rest of the time. Taehyung obviously does his best not to let his friend deal with things alone, which is sweet, but he can’t do everything for him.

You barely exchange a word with Jungkook during that time period. You’re usually trying to be forgotten when the table is buzzing with noise, finding refuge in Namjoon and Yoongi’s company. You thought Yoongi would be an ally in reclaiming what’s always been your spot, but it quickly becomes obvious that he has a crush on Taehyung’s friend Jimin, so he never complains about the recent invasion of the table by strangers.

You hear a lot of basketball vocabulary. More than you care for, to be honest. That’s one of the few moments when Jungkook’s face lights up and he gets truly excited, with an almost childish happiness. His demeanor changes, from shy to confident, and the transformation never ceases to amaze you. As soon as the conversation ends, his shoulders fall, he smiles awkwardly, and focuses back on his food or his phone.

You’ve met his eyes a few times in those moments, because he often looks around him like he’s afraid someone’s noticed. He averts his very quickly, though, so you’ve never said anything about it.

So, really, there’s not much that changes. You still only speak to your three friends — you think Taehyung is a good person, and you don’t think he hates you, but you don’t have anything to say to each other —, and sure, you have a little less space when you eat and more noise around you, but aside from that, it’s pretty much the same. You think that’s a relief. You’re not too fond of change.

Usually, you’re pretty decent at spotting it coming. You did miss it when Jin said he was going to become Jungkook’s friend, but other than that you’re able to do your best to avoid it. You don’t see anything coming the day Taehyung calls out your name, though. You look up at him from the book Namjoon is showing you, surprised. He has an arm slung over Jungkook’s shoulders, and Jungkook isn’t looking at you, of course.

“Do you think you could explain a maths-thing to Jungkook?”

You blink at him.

“What’s the ‘maths-thing’?”

“Does it matter?”

You raise an eyebrow, and Jungkook groans. You get the feeling that he didn’t really want Taehyung to ask you about it. He sends an annoyed glance to his friend, who is still smiling brightly at you, while pushing a lock of hair out of his face. His hair is tied, but this one traitorous lock always escapes.

“I’m struggling a little with probabilities,” he admits, glancing at you for half a second. “But I’m sure I’ll be fine once I can get my head back into it, I’ve just been training a lot recently and—”

“I can help you, if you want,” you say. “I’m not the most fond of probabilities, but it should be okay.”

“Great!” Taehyung says, patting his friend’s shoulder before Jungkook can answer. “You should do that then.”

“You’re sure you don’t mind?” Jungkook asks, actually looking at you this time. You meet his eyes, notice that he looks worried about it. You can’t figure out why.

“I really don’t,” you shrug.

He smiles at you, a small, hesitant smile, but a smile nonetheless. Probably the first one he directs at you. It’s a nice sight, you decide, and you smile back.

Jin’s sentence “is there anything Jungkook can’t do” takes all its sense on the day you meet Jungkook at the library to study. You don’t know what you expected. You never thought Jungkook was dumb or anything, but since Taehyung asked you to help, you thought he would have some difficulties, at least. However, as it turns out, he either understands immediately when you explain something to him, or he’s already understood it. He asks for some clarifications here and there, but all in all, you feel kind of useless.

“You don’t need me at all,” you say after a little while, and Jungkook looks up from the book with the worried wide-eyed look you’ve gotten used to.

“No, no, you’re doing a great job,” he protests. “You’re really helping me out here.”

“No I’m not. It’s obvious that you could do that all on your own.”

He deflates a little at that, looks away from you.

“You help,” he mumbles. “I have a hard time focusing when I’m alone.”

Oh.

That makes a lot of sense to you, actually. You’re good at focusing all of your energy on one thing, perhaps even too good, to the point where you easily get obsessed and become unable to take care of anything else, but even you need the right conditions for that.

“Okay,” you say with a nod.

Jungkook gives you an anxious look.

“So you don’t mind helping me out?” he asks, and there’s something in his voice that catches you, but you can’t tell what it is exactly. Maybe it’s the hope, or maybe it’s the fear. You don’t understand what he’d be afraid of. Worst case scenario, you would say no. That wouldn’t be the end of the world.

“We can work together,” you offer. “You can ask me if you need help for anything and I’ll just work on some other stuff.”

He seems relieved, and again, you just don’t understand it. It’s not like you’re his only option. There are plenty of people out there who could help him. Plenty of people who would jump at the opportunity of helping him. You know that, because he’s always surrounded by those people, and everybody in school seems to know him. Even when you walked into the library with him earlier, before you got to the table you’re sitting at now, a few students greeted him. You don’t see why he would attach any importance to you, specifically, helping him. You barely know each other.

“Thanks,” he says, and he gives you a small smile. For some reason, that makes you drop the subject. Instead of asking about it — which, knowing yourself, you probably would have — you shrug it off and reply with a nod.

The silence that follows feels comfortable, to you at least. You’ve never minded silence. Jin hates it, though. You get to work, watching absent-mindedly as Jungkook goes through the lesson he was working on. He does ask you a couple of questions, but it’s probably to make you feel like you’re doing something rather than because he actually needs it. You still answer them, and watch him grin, satisfied with himself, when he turns out to be right every single time.

“Are you coming to Taehyung’s party this week-end?” he asks out of the blue after about an hour.

You look up, surprised. The two of you haven’t exchanged much, and certainly have not talked about anything other than— well, other than maths. His eyes are on his notebook, as usual, and you don’t get any insight as to why he asked the question.

“I don’t know. Is Jin coming?”

“Uh, I guess? Taehyung’s probably talked to him about it.”

“Then I’m probably going.”

Jungkook mulls over your answer for a few seconds, twirling his pencil between his fingers, and you feel like you have to clarify, which is not an urge you have often. Usually, you let people decipher for themselves what you meant. That works very well with Namjoon, sometimes with Yoongi, not so great with the rest of the world. Including Jin, though Jin compensates with his impressive ability to interpret everything you say in his favor.

“We always go to parties with Jin. For moral support.”

For all that you tease him, you genuinely care for him. You know he wants you to go with him, so you do. It’s as simple as that.

Jungkook doesn’t look at you, but he still smiles at what you say, and it’s— it’s interesting. There’s something about his behavior that makes you curious, like you are when you’re trying to solve a complicated equation.

“That’s nice,” he comments.

“So… you’ll be there?” you ask. It’s taken you a long time to come up with that simple question. It often takes you a long time to find things to say to keep a conversation going. You’re pretty bad at it.

“It’s at my fraternity,” Jungkook informs you, glancing at you briefly, and you smile. This is exactly the type of party Jin wanted to go to. He’s probably happy about it. “The entire basketball team should be there.”

Great. People.

“That’s nice,” you say, because you have no idea what to add at this point. Jungkook simply nods, and the conversation dies an awkward death.

It’s another half an hour until Jungkook looks at his watch and starts putting his stuff back in his bag.

“I have to go to practice,” he tells you, clearly in a hurry. “Can we— Would you mind if—”

“We can do this again. If that’s what you meant.”

He gives you a bright smile, and that actually surprises you. He looks relieved that you finished his sentence for him.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely.

And just like that, he’s gone, practically running out of the library. For someone who talks as little as he does, he sure leaves a void when he goes away, you think, looking at the empty chair.

But you quickly shrug it off. You’re used to being alone. You like being alone.

Jungkook isn’t going to change that.

You realize very quickly that, while accompanying Jin to parties was never something you particularly enjoyed, going to this one was downright a mistake.

You have this unspoken rule, with your friends, that you shouldn’t stick together the entire time. You’re supposed to wander off, find something to do for yourself, maybe talk to some people. Get that college experience. You’ve never had a problem to do that, even if you ended up quietly sipping soda in a corner more often than not.

Here, though, you simply cannot shake off the fact that you don’t belong here, that this is not your scene. The people here are loud, energetic, garish. They make you feel like a black and white picture, like a silent movie. You want to run away, but you can’t. You don’t want to leave Jin, Namjoon or Yoongi behind, even if you doubt they’re having the same kind of problems you do. You’re pretty sure you saw Yoongi talking with Jimin, and last time you saw Namjoon, you think a cheerleader was holding him by the hand and leading him out of the room. You don’t know what Jin’s doing, but you’re trusting that he’s okay.

You walk around aimlessly, find Jungkook and Taehyung playing beer-pong with some people. Maybe you should be happy to see people you know, but you’re not. If anything, it only drives the point home even more to see them so comfortable: you don’t belong here. Your chest tightens, and you turn around. You need a little peace and quiet. You need to get away.

“(Y/N)!”

You jump at the sound of your name. No one’s said it since you’ve entered the house. No one knows you here.

Except Jungkook, who’s right behind you.

He’s more confident than usual, and you guess, based on his slightly hazy eyes, that it has a lot to do with alcohol.

“Are you having fun? How long have you been here? It’s nice to see you!”

He’s speaking fast, excitedly, and as he does, he runs his fingers through his hair, which he’s let down. It looks good on him, you decide, even as you reply to him with a tense smile.

“Hey, you should join us, we’re—”

“Do you have a closet somewhere?”

Jungkook blinks.

“A closet?”

“Yeah.”

There are probably very few things that are less weird than asking a guy if he has a closet you can get into because you’re on the verge of having a panic attack and you can’t stay outside surrounded by people a second longer.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything about it, though. He just leads you through the house and opens the door to a closet for you. You get inside without giving it much more thought, and he looks at you, puzzled. He’s actually looking at you, which you decide confirms that he is drunk.

“Do you— Are you waiting for someone?”

“No,” you say. “I just need a little break.”

He thinks about your answer for a while, probably longer than needed, and nods.

And then, he gets into the closet with you and closes the door.

Inside, it’s dark, with only a ray of light coming in. You can’t see his face, which doesn’t help you understand why he just did that. The space is cramped, and you can smell alcohol coming from his breath, can feel the heat radiating from his body, but it doesn’t bother you that much. It’s still better in here than outside.

“Why did you do that?”

“I thought I would keep you company. Like you’re here to keep company to Jin, you know?”

He’s drunk, definitely, and yet you feel genuinely touched by his words. You shouldn’t, because you doubt they hold that much meaning, but you can’t help it. You don’t need company, but that’s besides the point. His intentions are what matters.

“Thank you,” you say.

“It’s not a problem. You’re helping me with my maths.”

Your first reaction is to laugh at that, because it feels completely unprompted, but then the logic of the reasoning kind of appears to you.

“I mean it!” Jungkook protests. “You haven’t talked about how I’m good at everything or how I’m the one who should help you.”

You frown.

“You shouldn’t help me. You’re good at maths, but I’m better than you.”

It’s Jungkook’s turn to laugh, and just like his earlier smile, it takes you completely by surprise. It’s not one of those quiet laughs that he usually has. It’s light and pleasant, and you briefly wonder what his face looks like when he laughs like that. You kind of want to see it.

“You’re a scary person,” he tells you when he’s stopped laughing. “You always say those things directly. It’s like you don’t even care.”

You’ve heard that before. Well, you haven’t been called scary until now, but people have said that you were intimidating. You, personally, believe you’re the least threatening person to have ever walked this Earth. You couldn��t hurt a fly if you wanted to.

Jungkook makes some sense here, though. Your filter is very limited, and there are a lot of things you say that feel acceptable to you, and that other people… don’t think are acceptable. You don’t mean to do it. It just happens.

“I think you’re good at a lot of things, though,” you say slowly.

Jungkook lets out a long sigh and then you hear him sliding down to the ground. You hesitate for about half a second before joining him down there. You fold your legs, holding your knees against your chest while you wait for him to say something.

“People are always saying that,” he finally mumbles. “But what if I’m not that good? What if I fail one day?”

It’s strange. You understand what he’s saying, understand the feeling of pressure, but you don’t understand the emotions that should come with it. In your case, you know that no one holds you to a higher standard than you do. It can be unhealthy, the way you can torture yourself if you don’t meet the standards you’ve set for yourself, but at least you’re the only one you have to answer to. Obviously, it’s not Jungkook’s case.

“Then you’ll try again,” you say, because that’s what you do when you fail. “Or, if you think it’s not that important, you won’t.”

“But what will they say?” he insists. “What if we lose the next game? Or the one after that? What if I fail a class? I can’t get anything done these days.”

“You’ll be fine,” you say soothingly, half-wondering how you ended up here, comforting the college’s golden boy in a closet after fighting off a panic attack. “It’s not like you’re the only one in your team. People will understand.”

You think they will. You hope they will. They should.

“You would understand.”

It’s true, but then, you really do not care for basketball, and it’s not like you have that sort of expectations for Jungkook. You wouldn’t think much of it, if he failed at something tomorrow. If it was the maths test you’ve helped him with, you would be surprised, but that’s because you saw him studying and it was obvious he had understood everything, not because you think he can inherently succeed at everything he does.

Which you guess might be the heart of the problem here.

You reach out to put your hand on his shoulder. It’s not that easy in the dark, and you wonder for a second if you’ve grabbed something else, until you feel hair tickling your skin. Yup, you were right.

“You have the right not to be good at something every once in a while,” you say softly. “No one can be on top of their game all of the time.”

You hear what sounds like a choked sob.

“I like that they’re counting on me, you know? I like that I’m helping them out by playing. I just— I don’t know what’s going to happen when I stop being as good.”

He said when, not if, and that breaks your heart.

Without thinking about it, you slide your hand down his arm and grab his hand. You squeeze it in yours, gently, and then you inch closer to put your head on his shoulder. You remember reading that physical touch was good for people who were in emotional pain. You hope it helps him.

“You locked yourself in here with me because you thought I needed company,” you whisper. “There’s so much more to you than just being good at sports or having good grades. And if people don’t see that, it’s their loss. Because you’re a great person.”

He hums, but the sound is quiet, and it’s then that you realize how tense he is.

Shit. You must have crossed a boundary. You start to remove your hand, but he closes his fingers around yours, keeping you in place. He’s still tense, you can feel it everywhere his body touches yours. But he doesn’t let go.

“You mean that,” he says. There are so many emotions in his voice that you can’t identify them all. Relief, happiness, amusement… You don’t know where to start.

“I usually mean what I say.”

“I’ve noticed,” he says, and you can hear the smile that’s dancing on his lips.

He’s still not letting go of your hand, but you don’t mind. Staying here, with Jungkook, in this small closet is as good a way of spending your evening as anything else you could do out there.

So you stay.

“Where did you all vanish Saturday?” Jin asks, and Namjoon, Yoongi and yourself immediately find your food a lot more interesting. You exchange panicked glances that mean ��did none of you stay around? This was poorly coordinated’ before finally daring to look up.

“I talked to Jimin,” Yoongi says, face as inexpressive as always.

“I played some beer-pong with Taehyung,” Namjoon says.

That leaves only you.

“I talked to Jungkook,” you tell Jin. That is technically true. It omits the part where the two of you were together in a closet, but if you said that, there would be a lot of questions you don’t really want to answer to. Somehow, you think you would be more embarrassed to tell them that there was nothing going on there than if you told them you hooked up with him. You’re not sure why.

“Jungkook disappeared for a long time,” Jin says, narrowing his eyes at you.

You do your best to keep a straight face while you poke at your salad. You don’t want anyone here to have the wrong idea, and you finally manage to put your finger on what you’re afraid of. Humiliation. You’d feel humiliated at having to tell them that nothing happened and that there is nothing Jungkook could possibly see in you. They would be nice to you, of course they would, but you don’t want to see the look in their eyes.

“Did he? Maybe that was after I left. I didn’t stay that long.”

That’s a lie.

“Really?” Jin asks, clearly skeptical. “I think I saw you there pretty late.”

Maybe when you went down to get some snacks and drinks to bring back to the closet. Damn Jungkook and his stomach.

“Well, that depends what you mean by ‘late’ and ‘long’,” you say.

That’s you calling Namjoon for help, and he recognizes your SOS for what it is. From the way Jin’s face falls, so does he.

“She’s right,” Namjoon comments, so nonchalant you would almost believe he’s doing it naturally. “What is ‘late’, really? Isn’t it always—”

“Please stop,” Jin groans, burying his face in his hands. “Just because you’re a literature major doesn’t mean you’re the only one who understands words.”

“Actually it does,” you say with a nod. “That’s exactly what it means.”

You start lifting your hand for a high-five, relieved Jin’s attention is off you, but he sends the two of you a dark glare.

“You two are unbearable. Don’t do that.”

“We have to,” you protest. You would hate to miss a chance to high-five Namjoon.

“No you don’t, you—”

“Actually they do,” Yoongi says, and your jaw drops. Yoongi never intervenes, and you had always thought that if he did, it wouldn’t be in your favor. “That’s exactly how gravity works.”

Jin looks like his soul has left his body. He only comes back to himself after you, Yoongi and Namjoon have all exchanged high-fives.

“I hate you,” he says, sounding terribly tired. “I hate every single one of you.”

“Sorry Jin,” you smile warmly.

“No you’re not. You’re the worst.”

Except he sounds fond, affectionate, and you laugh before going back to your salad. You miss the quick glances your three friends exchange after that. They’ve all noticed you eluding and changing the subject. They don’t want to rush you, know you would hate it and that it’s better to drop it.

But they’ve noticed.

Working with Jungkook on Wednesday afternoons easily becomes a habit, so easily you don’t even notice it until it’s something you look forward to during the week. It adds to the time you already spend eating with him and Taehyung. Jungkook is, slowly, starting to become a part of your life. It’s a thought you refuse to dwell on, because it sounds so strange.

The Wednesdays afternoons are something special, though. You and Jungkook don’t really talk at lunch, even if he’s clearly more relaxed around you now, which you suspect is the reason why you’re ‘Taehyung-approved’. On Wednesdays, you— Well, you don’t talk much, either, but it’s different. It’s a time that only belongs to the two of you. You like that.

You slowly find out things about him, his family, his life. It’s never the main subject of conversation, but it makes you feel like you’re solving a puzzle.

“My father wanted me to focus on my classes and forget about basketball,” he comments once. “But I could do both.”

It makes you laugh, because he says it with obvious satisfaction, but it also makes you wonder if there’s more to it. Jungkook doesn’t add anything, though, and you don’t want to probe into his life, so you don’t ask. After that, small pieces of the puzzle keep falling into place.

“My high school coach told me I could train more if I didn’t work so hard for school.” But he could do both.

“My friends said I never hung out with them anymore and that I shouldn’t work so hard.” So he did both.

It’s always the same story. People telling him things, giving him opinions on what the should and shouldn’t do, and him stretching himself thinner and thinner. It’s almost a miracle he’s still doing as well as he is, honestly.

But his tone changes when he talks about his former relationships. He’s usually light and genuine, sharing with you just because. It’s clear that, as much as the stories make you frown, he doesn’t have an issue with them, and you guess that’s all that matters. The first time he says something about an ex-girlfriend of his, though, he’s guarded, almost careful. He sounds like he doesn’t want to tell you.

“My ex said I worked too much.”

He doesn’t add anything. Whatever it was she wanted, he couldn’t do it and work. Didn’t manage to do both. After that, he doesn’t look at you for the rest of the day, like he did when you first met.

You never get a name for the girlfriend. He talks about relationships again, but you don’t even know if he’s always talking about the same one. You doubt it, though, and it only makes things worse.

“My ex wanted me to attend fewer practices.”

“My ex said I didn’t care enough to make time for her.”

“My ex dumped me after I lost a game.”

That last one hurts you, because you remember him crying in the closet because of that exact fear. You want to take his hand again, but you can’t dare to.

“She’s stupid for that,” you say instead.

Jungkook looks surprised first, because you never comment on what he’s telling you, then a smile slowly forms on his lips.

“If the only reason she was with you was because you won a lot of games, you’re better off without her,” you add.

“That’s what Taehyung said.”

“Taehyung’s right.”

Jungkook goes quiet for a little while after that, to the point that you look up, worried that you might have offended him. When you do, he’s looking at you, something you can’t identify shining in his eyes.

“Everything okay?”

He blinks like he’d just woken up for a dream, then nods. He doesn’t tell you that he hadn’t believed what Taehyung said — until you said it and he looked at you and thought that yeah, maybe he was better off without her indeed.

You’re surprised to run into Jungkook late one night, as you’re walking back to your dorm. It shouldn’t shock you — you do go to the same college — but you’re so used to only ever seeing him in the library or the cafeteria that meeting him outside is almost confusing. At least he seems taken aback as well, if the way his already round eyes widen is anything to go by.

Then, his surprised face morphs into a smile, and a wave of warmth hits you without a warning. You don’t get any time to think about it before he waves at you. His shyness is not completely gone, and you see him waver, hesitate, even as he’s walking up to you. You’re quick to close the gap between you, meeting him in the middle. Just in case.

“Hey,” he says, voice a little raspy. He has what you identify as a sports bag, slung over his shoulder, and you wonder what he was doing out so late. You were working at the library until it closed, which is far from being rare for you, but that obviously wasn’t his case.

“Hey,” you reply, smiling back. “Were you— training?”

Amusement flashes in his eyes at the careful way you chose your words, afraid to get it wrong. As he grew more comfortable around you, he also started making fun of you for not knowing the first thing about basketball. Strangely, you don’t mind that much.

“I was at the gym,” he says. “Practice was earlier today.”

“Oh,” is all you can muster. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do. Should you ask what he was doing at the gym? The answer would only leave you with more questions, you’re sure.

You’re still debating it when Jungkook clears his throat. He reaches for his ponytail and undoes it, shaking his head so the hair fall back into place. The sight is— interesting. Pretty. You’re not sure why you’re so fascinated by it.

“Do you want me to walk you back to your dorm?” he asks, slight concern in his voice. “It’s late.”

“Is it on your way back?” you question, frowning. You would hate to be a bother.

“No, but—”

“I’m fine, then. I do that several times a week, I’ve never had a problem.”

That was, apparently, not the thing to say. Jungkook only looks more worried now.

“Several times a week? That’s really not careful.”

“I don’t see a problem, there’s no one around.”

“That’s exactly my p—” He stops and shakes his head, but gives a look you’ve seen before. A lot. It’s a look that says ‘I can’t believe someone as smart as you can also be so stupid’, in those exact terms. “Expected value,” he then says, and your eyes widen a little. Maths! Great. You can do maths. “Let’s say there’s a 99% chance nothing happens. Your gain is still minimal.”

Well, you get to study late and enjoy a walk home alone at night, but you’re willing to humor him.

“But in the one per-cent where something bad happens…”

He doesn’t have to finish his sentence. You know exactly where this is going, and you let out a sigh. He’s not wrong. On that aspect, at least.

“Fine.”

He grins widely.

“I just beat you at maths.”

“You didn’t beat me, I—”

“I just beat you at maths!”

You roll your eyes, choose to let him have that. It’s not going to change anything to your behavior after tonight, because the day has not come where you’ll let probabilities rule your life, but, after all, you don’t mind sharing your night walk with him.

Jungkook starts showing up to walk you home whenever he can. It’s not every time, which you’re kind of thankful for — you like his company, but you like being alone just as much, and you need a healthy dose of that every week —, but it does happen regularly. You find him sitting in front of the library, freezing cold, and you take pity on him, buying him a coffee from the vending machine inside, seconds before they lock the building.

That’s how you find out he likes his coffee tasting as little like coffee as possible.

Sometimes, he joins you later, and you hear him jogging to catch up with you. You don’t have the heart to tell him that that defeats the purpose of everything he’s doing, because it’s absolutely terrifying.

As the days turn into weeks, the air becomes colder, and you start seeing Christmas decorations appearing over the campus. You don’t know who is in charge of doing that, but they must be excited about it, because tinsel and few strings of fairy lights start appearing around the campus at the end of November. Jungkook is delighted by it, and you enjoy watching his reactions. You’re not big on Christmas, personally. You enjoy the tradition, the gift-giving, spending time with your family — you’re visiting them briefly this year — but you mostly see Christmas as an excuse for all of that. Jungkook loves it, though, and you decide that his excitement makes you like the season a little more.

“Hey, we should make a stop,” he tells you one night.

You look at him like he’s crazy. It’s the middle of December and it’s already half past nine. You’re cold, it’s dark outside, and you want to go home.

“A stop?” you repeat.

“Oh, c’mon,” he says, and he has that wide, childish grin that you’ve seen only a handful of times. You haven’t learned how to resist it yet. “C’mon!”

You sigh. But you follow.

As it turns out, he takes you just a little way off your usual trajectory. Behind a building you’ve never really paid attention to, Jungkook leads you to a small basketball court. You eye the place suspiciously. It’s empty, well lit, but you never know. A ball might come out of nowhere to hit you in the face, as they had a tendency to do when you were in high school and playing for a team that had picked you last.

By the time you turn around to tell Jungkook that, okay, you’ve seen it, let’s go home now, he’s taken off his coat and pulled a basketball out of his bag. You don’t even want to ask. His grin is even wider than earlier.

“C’mon,” he says.

“Absolutely not.”

“Let me show you, okay?”

You want to say no but— It can’t hurt, right? And Jungkook loves basketball, and you’re his— friend or something, so you should try to take some interest in it.

You take off your coat and let him lead you onto the court. There, you watch him as he dribbles in what you guess is an effective way (you can’t know for sure, you’re barely able to catch the ball after it’s bounced once so your standards are incredibly low), and then demonstrates his ability to score a handful of times. It’s not that you’re not impressed — again, you can’t do anything with this unpredictable, devilish round thing — but you also can’t say this is a quality you think much of.

You liked it a lot better when he convinced you to let him walk you home by talking about the expected value.

“You want to try?” he offers, holding the ball out for you.

You would rather die.

But you take the ball from his hand and eye the basket like it’s personally offended you. That makes Jungkook laugh.

“You can get closer than that,” he says.

You hold back a groan, aim and, of course, fail. It’s almost a relief. You can cross that off your list, again, just like you did as a kid first, then as a teenager. You’re bad at sports, always have been and, considering the effort you’re putting into it those days, always will be. That’s something you can count on.

Before you can say anything, Jungkook’s caught the ball and is running back towards you.

“Okay, let me show you.”

Is he going to— No, he’s just demonstrating it. You’re kind of disappointed not to get your typical ‘guy teaching girl anything sports related’ moment, disappointed that he doesn’t come to stand behind you to show you like they do in movies, but you can’t unpack that right now. You do watch with some degree of interest as he shows you how to position yourself.

“So you really aim for the line above the basket, not the basket, okay?”

“If you think that just because I aim for something I hit it…”

He chuckles, then gives the ball back to you, and you sigh. This. This is why you hate sports. It’s not the one-off failure, that would be fine on its own. It’s the constant humiliation whenever you even try it. You’re going to fail this attempt, and the next one, and the one after that. You’re a lost cause. You’re fine with it, too, but you don’t particularly want to go through that again.

You do your best, though. Not because you think it will change something, but because you kind of want to prove that this isn’t all you. That, even if you’re trying your hardest, there’s just something that refuses to let you score or do it right.

“Wait!” Jungkook walks over to you, puts his hand on your back, and you freeze. “You need to straighten yourself a little,” he says, placing his hand between your shoulder blades, and you nod. His hand is warm and large, you can feel it even over your sweatshirt. “There.”

He removes the hand, and you’re left a little off balance without him by your side. You shake your head quickly, shoot, and, without any surprise, miss.

Jungkook is on the ball just as fast as before, but you’re as quick as him to grab your coat and put it back on. You’re already feeling warm all over, though.

“You don’t want to try again?” he asks, sounding genuinely disappointed.

Of course, you take pity on him.

“Maybe next time,” you say.

He gives you a bright smile, so genuinely happy, and you know that you won’t be able to deny him next time either.

Jin is the reason you’re here, and that is the version you will stick with. No, you didn’t want to go see a basketball game, even if Jungkook is playing. No, you didn’t feel the slightest bit curious about it. No, you would not be there if Jin hadn’t asked. It’s Jin’s fault if you’re here on a Friday night instead of being, well, at your place, likely doing something equally as unproductive.

You don’t even understand what is going on in the field. There’s a lot of running and throwing the ball, that’s for sure, but then, you’ve just learned that scoring from different places in the field and at different moments will not earn the players the same amount of points.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen your friends look at you with such consternation as when they had to explain it to you.

In that situation, you can’t say that you get much from looking at the field. You definitely follow Jungkook with your eyes, cheer and clap when he scores, and let out cries of disappointment with the rest of the crowd when he doesn’t, but truly, the only way you have any idea what’s going on is by looking at the score board. And the truth is, that score is a little too close for comfort.

You hate that it has that much of an impact on you, but it stresses you out. Your leg bounces on the floor, an habit of yours Jin hates, but he’s too focused to notice, which is only more stressful. Jin always notices, and if it doesn’t, it must mean that the situation is dire.

The remaining seconds are slowly ticking down. Jungkook’s team is ahead by only one point, which means that if the other team scores, they will win. You think. You’re not entirely sure, but for your defense, you’ve just heard about it. Jungkook seems to be everywhere on the field. Taehyung is his shadow, perhaps not as noticeable or as spectacular in his actions, but certainly effective.

Again, you have no knowledge of basketball whatsoever.

Jin grabs your thigh, and only then do you realize that something’s happened. The action was so quick, so smooth, that you missed it entirely — but maybe you were also kind of thinking of something else.

Someone from the other team — you don’t even know your school’s team’s players, you’re not going to learn the other ones — just made a break for it. Based on what you can tell, Taehyung blocked his path, pushing him straight into Jungkook’s arms. In a movement you cannot begin to comprehend, Jungkook takes the ball from him, without ever stopping his run.

After that, he’s unstoppable.

He crosses the field, looking almost like he’s dancing in the way he avoids his opponents, and, of course, scores.

The time falls to zero. The crowd stands up like one man, screaming and shouting, and you yourself find yourself jumping up to hug Jin. He hugs you back, but the two of you quickly separate, patting each other’s backs awkwardly.

Jin starts talking with Namjoon and Yoongi, but you tune them out — it’s not like you understand what they’re saying anyway — to look at the field. The players have lifted Jungkook on their shoulders and he’s laughing, holding on to them so he doesn’t fall, and you grin.

“Come on,” Jin says, “let’s go congratulate him!”

That sounds like a terrible idea, you think. You won’t be the only ones, as the crowd has already invaded the field, and you doubt you’ll be able to get very close.

You still follow him. You alternate between clinging to his arm and to his shoulders so you don’t lose him, and trust him to elbow his way through the crowd. You hear him apologizing profusely in front of you, but he does not stop. Slowly, you make it down. Once you’re off the stairs, people are not as compactly gathered, and you can just walk between them. Jin grins at you, and you give him a thumbs up. Yeah, he did good here. You can give him that.

“Hey, Jungkook!” he calls out.

Jungkook was talking with some girls, but he looks up at the sound of his name, excuses himself, and jogs towards the two of you.

And it is then, in the few seconds it takes him to get to you, that it hits you. Like a ton of bricks.

You had known that Jungkook was objectively attractive, of course. There was no ignoring that. But Jin was objectively attractive, too, and that had never changed anything between the two of you. With Jungkook, right now, it does. His skin is glistening with sweat, and he wipes his chin with his shirt, and oh no, you can see his well-defined biceps and the line of his abs, and some hair is escaping from his ponytail, and he’s grinning with a happy, proud smile, and his eyes are shining and—

Jungkook is hot. That’s your realization. You had been aware of it, technically, but it’s like it only clicks for you at that exact moment.

“You came,” he tells you with a bright smile, and you can feel your entire face heating up. You pray that it’s not visible.

“Yeah,” you squeak out. “Great, um, great game?”

It sounds like an interrogation because you have no idea if it was one. It looked difficult, but maybe that was because they played terribly today. You don’t know that.

Jungkook’s smile widens a little, and you know that he has you all figured out. He knows you don’t understand the first thing about this whole thing.

“Thanks,” he still says.

His chest is still heaving quickly, and it draws your attention to his— his everything. The way he’s leaning towards you as he’s trying to catch his breath doesn’t help either. You wait for Jin to say something, to save you, but when you look around, you realize the traitor has abandoned you completely.

Okay, he hasn’t technically abandoned you, he’s just gone to congratulate Taehyung, but it’s the same difference.

You hear someone else calling Jungkook’s name before you’ve figured out what to say. He looks around, then gives you an apologetic look.

“Sorry, I—”

“No problem, you should— I have to go anyway.”

This is not like you. You’re an awkward person, and you struggle in social situations, but you don’t usually trip over your words like that. You kind of hate it.

“Okay, so, um, I’ll see you…?”

“Wednesday, yeah. Or— before. At lunch. If you’re there.”

This is terrible.

“Okay.” Jungkook gives you one last smile, and then he’s off, and you’re standing alone in the middle of a crowd. Your chest is heavy and it feels painful.

You hate this.

It’s only after that that you start realizing how big of a part Jungkook now plays in your life. He walks you home at night sometimes. You eat with him once or twice a week. You study together for an entire afternoon on Wednesdays. He’s just— everywhere. And it’s not that it’s a bad thing, because the feeling you get when you see him is a pleasant one, but it is disconcerting. It’s something that you have no control over whatsoever and that’s not— that’s not good for you.

You realize how much attention you were already paying to him, too, which is even more annoying. The signs were there. You should have understood this sooner. If you had, maybe you could have prevented it.

Because that’s the thing. You know the situation is ridiculous. You believe Jungkook sees you as a friend, and you’re happy with that, but there is no way he thinks of you as anything else. That is not an idea you should even begin to entertain. You can handle rejection, you’re used to it in so many aspects, though it’s rarely romantic, but you cannot take getting your hopes up only for them to be crushed.

The thing is, you can’t help it at this point, can’t force your feelings back in. There is so much to like about him. The way he plays with his hair, the quiet laughs when he’s in public, the loud ones when he’s walking you home, the sparkle in his eyes when he asks you a question in maths and it turns out he already had it right, the look on his face when he talks about basketball,… There’s so much.

You briefly consider avoiding him, but that’s not really an option. You like being his friend. You see your feelings as annoying, pesky little things that have no business being there in the first place. You don’t even hate the rush that goes through you when you see him, the way just looking at him brings a smile to your lips that you simply can’t hold back.

But you really, really hate the wishful thinking. The hope.

The feelings are fine, as long as you don’t think too hard about it. As long as he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Because that would break your heart.

And it’s only a matter of time before that happens.

You really considered declining when Jin asked you to come to this New Year’s party. Your last experience had effectively convinced you that those new parties he was getting invited to were not for you. That was fine, to each their own, but that did mean you didn’t really want to go. He clearly didn’t need you there anyway. You didn’t even know why he asked.

But he did, and he insisted, and he gave you his best puppy eyes, and that’s the thing about Jin: he’s very, very good at giving puppy eyes.

So that’s why you’re there, wearing a red dress that’s way too flashy for you, leaning against a wall and staring into the void. You feel empty and, though you’re not alone, lonely. You’re surrounded by strangers, and there are people everywhere in the house, but you don’t know them, and you can’t just start a conversation with them. It’s not something you do, it’s not even something you want.

You haven’t felt the urge to lock yourself inside a closet yet, though, so you guess that’s an improvement compared to last time.

Looking around, you can see Jimin, perched on the counter, listening to Yoongi talk with a smile on his face. Jin is somewhere else in the room and, though you can’t see him, you sometimes hear him, so you know he has his flirting voice on. Namjoon is nowhere to be seen, but that’s probably a good sign. He always get lucky at those parties. You don’t know how he does it. It’s impressive, honestly. Hoseok showed up earlier, and everyone greeted him like he was a star — which is kind of accurate, actually, at the campus’ scale.

You know, of course, that Jungkook and Taehyung, as inseparable as ever, are by the pool table. You also hate that you know it, because now your mind is constantly wondering if it’s weird that you haven’t been there yet, or if it would be weird to show up. Neither, probably, because exactly no one cares except for you, but you’re the master of torturing yourself with useless considerations.

God, you hate having a crush. It’s just so— unpractical. You also hate that you didn’t see that one coming, and that you didn’t do anything about it until it was too late. Usually, you’re pretty good at nipping those kinds of feelings in the bud. Now, you can only wait it out.

With a sigh, you push yourself away from the wall to wander aimlessly around the house. You promised Jin you’d stay until midnight, and you intend to keep that promise. It’s not like there’s anything for you to do, but still, that way you can look like you’re doing something and look a little less weird. Or maybe you don’t. It doesn’t really matter anyway.

Passing in front of the room with the pool table, you realize that Jungkook is gone. Taehyung is still there, playing with Hoseok, both looking pretty wasted, but Jungkook has vanished. That’s not good. You don’t want him to spring up on you out of nowhere like he did last time. You won’t know how to react if that happens, probably fumble for words, and it will be very unpleasant and very embarrassing for everyone.

You consider finding another closet, then decides against it. There’s just fifteen minutes left until midnight, anyway. That’s not too long. You can just wait it out.

You slowly make your way through the house. No sign of Jungkook anywhere. Maybe he left. Maybe he’s already back to the pool table and you missed him completely. Maybe he’s locked himself in a room with a girl and—

Oh you hate this. You hate feeling jealous. You hate that you have no control over it, you hate that it makes you sad, you hate that you have no right to feel like that. Jungkook isn’t yours. He’s probably even considered you for anything. You should consider yourself lucky you’re even friends with him in the first place.

You do your best to push everything out of your mind. Alcohol has never looked more tempting, but you don’t want the hangover with the morning, so you ignore the inviting bottles of beer and walk out.

It’s freezing — of course it’s freezing, it’s December you idiot, is there anything you can do right tonight — and you shiver, but you stay there. The cold is both numbing and soothing, and while you’re mentally complaining about it, you’re not thinking about anything else, so that’s good.

The door opens and closes behind you, and you guess someone is coming out to smoke. You move over to give them some space, but just as you do that, a jacket falls over your shoulders. You jump at first, and then the warmth makes you sigh in relief.

“You shouldn’t go out without a coat,” Jungkook says, because of course it’s him.

“I feel that you’ve been scolding me a lot recently,” you chuckle, glancing up at him.

He pouts, buries his hands in his pockets. He’s obviously cold as well, but at least his shirt covers his arms.

It also hugs his muscles real nice, but that’s besides the point.

“That’s because you make very poor decisions,” he mutters, looking at his feet. “You have to realize that.”

“You’re right. I could have taken my coat outside.”

“You know that walking back all alone in the middle of the night is way worse,” he protests, and then you laugh, because that’s exactly what you wanted, and he goes quiet for a second. “Don’t make fun of me,” he mumbles, looking away from you again.

“I’m not,” you say, and you take a step in his direction so you can bump your shoulder against his. “You shouldn’t worry that much, but I think it’s nice that you do. I was just trying to get a rise out of you.”

“That worked really well,” he says, and he sounds surprised about it. You wonder if it’s because he usually doesn’t get angry for stuff, but you can’t tell for sure. “Hey, you—”

People start shouting numbers inside, and you turn around to look at them.

“It’s midnight,” you say.

“Five!”

You look up at Jungkook. He’s significantly taller than you. Not as much as Namjoon, but still.

“Four!”

Jungkook looks back at you, smiles, and it takes your breath away. His hair looks very good like that, you think absent-mindedly, with the way it falls on either side of his face.

“Three!”

It’s too late to go back inside now. It would definitely be a weird thing to do. Which means you’re here, alone, with Jungkook.

“Two!”

Your eyes flicker to his lips. You wonder what it would be like to kiss them. You haven’t let yourself even consider it before, but right now your brain isn’t functioning all that well. Probably because of how loud your heart is beating in your chest.

“One!”

You look back up and his eyes are wide and focused on you. There’s that same tension in his shoulders as when you first met him, except, back then, he couldn’t look at you, and now it seems that he can’t look away.

“Happy new year!”

You decide you shouldn’t think about your next move. You get on your tiptoes to plant a kiss at the corner of his lips, right at the border between friends and something else, but he leans forward right at that moment, and his hands cup your face, and then he’s kissing you.

It’s like an explosion. You don’t know what you should focus on. How warm he is, how soft and large his hands are, how his lips move against yours, how he tastes, or simply the fact that he’s kissing you, Jungkook is kissing you!

The door slams open, and the two of you move away in a jump.

“Happy new year Jungkook!” Taehyung shouts, obviously drunk, soon joined by several other members of the basketball team. If he’s seen what happened, he doesn’t say anything, and you doubt Taehyung would have that kind of control over himself.

Soon, Jungkook is surrounded and they start to drag him back inside. He gives you a brief, apologetic look, then follows them, laughing. You remain there, frozen, unsure of what to do. You take a hesitant step towards the door, only to see a girl planting kisses on his cheeks while he blushes. What gets to you, though, is the arm he’s wrapped around her, the way he’s tracing circles on the naked skin of her shoulder. It makes the gesture look… intimate. Personal.

You let out a brief, bitter laugh, that there is fortunately no one to hear. You feel confused, but mostly, you feel stupid.

Fuck that.

It doesn’t take long for you to drop the jacket onto a chair and find your coat. You wish a happy new year to Namjoon, when you pass by him on your way out, and he looks a little surprised, like he hasn’t heard the shouting. You don’t want to know what he could have been up to.

You’ve kept your end of the bargain, you think as you leave. Jin won’t be able to complain to you. You feel some petty sort of satisfaction when you step outside and find yourself alone alone, finally. You like this. You like being alone. You’ve never asked for anything else.

You give one last look to the party, then vanish into the night. You’re better off on your own anyway.

“I don’t think I’ll be coming,” you say, nonchalantly, as everyone around the table is talking animatedly about a party for the next week-end.

You had hoped it would go unnoticed in the middle of the conversation, but, unfortunately, that doesn’t go as planned. Taehyung turns horrified eyes towards you, Jin, Namjoon and Yoongi all look surprised, and Jungkook… You don’t know how to read him. There’s that surprise, as well, but then he looks down before you can tell anything else. Not that that changes much. He’s barely looked at you today.

You haven’t talked to him since New Year’s Eve. You had other things on your mind, and then he didn’t show up at the library last Wednesday.

“What do you mean, you won’t be coming?” Jin asks. “You always come to parties.”

You shrug. You don’t miss the alarmed looks your friends are exchanging, and you’re sure Namjoon can see through you. Because it’s not like you to do something like that, whatever reason you may give.

“I don’t like them. They’re too loud, and I can’t say that I really enjoy standing alone for half the night.”

“You could stay with us,” Namjoon offers.

“And watch you pick up a girl every time? No thank you,” you reply with a disgusted shiver.

“You could stay with me,” Yoongi says.

You give him a look, and he grimaces, backing down immediately. Okay. He can see why you wouldn’t want that either. Plus he’s pretty sure that Jimin and him are about to get it on after weeks of flirting, so it’s probably not a great idea.

“What about me?” Jin asks. He doesn’t sound as energetic as usual, his voice almost quiet, and you realize that he probably feels bad because of what you said. He knows you come to those parties because of him, so knowing you don’t have fun at all when you’re attending — you understand that he might feel responsible.

“I think I would bore you very quickly,” you chuckle. “You’re not going to get the fun you want with me. But it’s fine, really. I tried it, and now I know it’s not for me. I can just—”

“No,” Taehyung says.

You blink.

“No?”

“I’m taking this personally,” he tells you, looking you dead in the eye. “You’re coming to this party and I’m going to make you enjoy yourself.”

You’ve never seen him so serious, and you can’t help it. You burst out laughing.

“Taehyung,” you say softly when you’re done. “I appreciate that, I do, but I don’t want to do that anymore.”

Taehyung opens his mouth, then winces and closes it. You’re not sure what happened there, but he gives Jungkook an offended look.

“I’m sorry,” you add. “I’m sure your parties can be great, but—”

“I get it,” he sighs. “But you owe me.”

You’re not sure why, but fine.

“And you can’t say anything bad about those parties, to anyone. Ever.” In that moment, he looks almost threatening, and you blink, confused. He can’t possibly take it that seriously, can he?

Then he yelps and rubs his leg. He gives Jungkook another annoyed look, but Jungkook doesn’t even look up from his food.

“Leave her alone,” he just mumbles.

Taehyung rolls his eyes, but doesn’t add anything. He does give you a long, pointed glance, though, before muttering under his breath something that sounds a lot like “I won’t let that slander stand,” and you think that’s hilarious too.

When you risk a glance at Jungkook, his arms are folded over his chest, and he looks deep in thought. He’s chewing on his bottom lip, eyes focused on his meal, though he’s not touching it. It’s stupid, but the image of a child that has just been scolded flashes in your mind.

“Jungkook? Is everything alright?”

He jumps at your question, looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. Your eyes meet, but it’s extremely brief, and your chest tightens. This sucks. You thought the two of you had gotten past that now, and you hate that you lost what you had. It’s not like it’s your fault. He kissed you, and then he bailed on you first chance he got. Why would he do that, why would he risk it, if he was going to react like that afterwards?

“I’m fine,” he says with a tense smile, and you doubt it’s true, but you don’t know what you should ask him to confront him about it. You don’t want to talk about the kiss ever again. You certainly don’t want to do it in front of your friends.

So you jump on the first chance you get to leave the table. You don’t ask yourself if it’s a weird thing to do. It probably is, but fuck it, you’re weird, and everyone else can deal with it. You refuse to subject yourself to something unpleasant longer than absolutely necessary.

Except the looks you get are mostly concerned ones, from Namjoon and Jin. Jungkook does look up as you walk away, eyes following you almost longingly, and then he lets out a long sigh that catches Taehyung’s attention. He doesn’t say anything, but he narrows his eyes at him.

God. He really has to get everything done here, doesn’t he?

At first, you think that this is it. Your— your whatever it was that you had with Jungkook is over. You’ll see him around every now and then, and maybe he’ll give you a polite nod, though it doesn’t look like he would even do that right now, but there won’t be anything else. You’ll go back to being basically strangers, and it will be fine, because really, nothing happened there, right? You had a crush on him, he kissed you once, and then nothing. It’s fine. You’ll be fine.

Sure, it makes you a little sad. Sure, you catch yourself looking at him while he’s surrounded by girls who are all so much better for him than you ever were, and it hurts a little. Sure, walking back home alone at night is a little more unpleasant than it used to be, but that’s the thing. It’s only a little. You would almost pat yourself on the back for it. Congrats, (Y/N). You made it out before you got too attached. You probably avoided a world of hurt.

Because you know. You know that if you had gotten in too deep, it would have hurt like hell to not have Jeon Jungkook. And sure, it hurts right now.

But only a little.

You’re good. You’re safe. You know that Namjoon and Yoongi would nod if you told them about it. They understand, in a way a lot of other people don’t. You don’t think that Jin would, for example. He would tell you to take the risk, not understanding that people like Jungkook used to pick you last for their teams when you were in high school, not understanding that as far as you’re concerned, you’ve handled more than enough rejection throughout your life. But Namjoon and Yoongi… They’re definitely more successful than you in matters of the heart, but they would still understand. Not that you’re going to tell them about it, because it’s a stupid story, because there never was anything there, and because you’d feel really dumb talking about how you thought, how you hoped that— You’re not going to tell them anything. At least everything’s okay now.

And then, Jungkook appears at your usual table at the library on a Wednesday afternoon. He drops his bag on the floor and takes a seat next to you. You’re surprised to see him when you look up, too focused on your studies to notice him approaching. He has big, wide doe eyes, and he watches your reaction carefully.

“You’re— This seat isn’t taken?”

You shake your head. No. People rarely come here, and you don’t really study with people. Well, didn’t, you suppose.

“Do you mind if I sit here?“

“The seat’s free. You can take it if you want.”

You don’t know what to do. You don’t know how to react. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You never considered that Jungkook would— That he would—

“I, um, I like studying with you. It helps me focus,” he says, eyes flickering away from you. “So, if you don’t mind I’ll— Can I come back here on Wednesdays?”

You want to tell him that you can’t stop him, that he can do whatever the hell he want, but even though it’s on the tip of your tongue, you don’t.

“Of course you can,” you say instead.

Jungkook looks up long enough to flash you a smile, and you know. This isn’t over, and you’re not going to be fine. You’re probably going to feel crushed, sooner than later, and you could have stopped it all right now.

You think about Yoongi and how not like him it is to be doing what he is with Jimin. How he’s taking a risk. How it could oh so easily not have paid off.

It’s going to, of course. You just need to look at Jimin’s eyes when he’s talking to Yoongi to know that. But Jungkook doesn’t look at you like that. Jungkook doesn’t look at you at all.

And yet here you are. Taking that exact same risk.

God. You can be so stupid some times.

Jungkook glances at you quickly while you’re deep in thought, tapping your pencil against your cheek, and a small smile forms on his lips. He’s quick to glance away, because he would hate it if you caught him, of course, but the smile doesn’t fade.

He couldn’t have forced it to do so if he tried.

“You have to come to the next game.”

“Taehyung, hey, nice to see you to, I’m doing fine, I—”

“I’m serious, (Y/N). I know you hate basketball and everything that breathes, but—”

“I don’t hate you.”

“—this is really important and— Wait, really? Thank you. I feel that means a lot coming from you.”

“Is that how you see me? I don’t hate everyone, Taehyung.”

“Can you give me a list of people you don’t hate?”

“Well, you, Jin, Yoongi, Namjoon…”

“Jungkook?”

“…Sure. Jungkook. Why do you want me to come to the next game?”

“Because we might lose.”

“And I’m supposed to change that how?”

“You owe me, remember?”

“I— Because of the parties? Seriously? I need to sit through hours of you guys running after a ball because I don’t like parties?”

“I would really appreciate it if you could avoid describing basketball as ‘guys running after a ball’.”

“I would really appreciate not having to go watch the game.”

“Don’t you want to support your friends on the team?”

“Ugh. Fine. I’ll be there. Just— stop that thing you’re doing with your eyebrows. Why are you even doing that?”

“You’re so slow. How are you so slow? I thought you were supposed to be smart!”

“Taehyung…”

“Just be there!”

“I will.”

“You better!”

“Or what, what will you— Taehyung! You can’t just run off like— Well. I guess he could.”

You hadn’t thought sitting through a basketball game could become a more painful experience to you than it already was. As it turns out, you were wrong. It was so much worse when the people you wanted to win were losing. Despite yourself, you found yourself getting invested, standing up and shouting encouragements along with Jin and Namjoon, and protesting loudly when things didn’t go your way.

You were not cut out for this. Not because you still didn’t understand half the rules — you could have by now if you had made the effort of memorizing them — but because of the stress. God, how did your friends handle that regularly? How did the players handle it? You kept looking at Jungkook. You could tell how unhappy he was with the situation, could see the disappointment settling in. He also seemed to get more nervous as time went by, which didn’t help his performance, and his words kept echoing in your mind.

”I don’t know what’s going to happen when I stop being as good.”

You’re half way through the game and things are not looking good when Taehyung waves you over. You run to the railway, straining to hear him, and when you finally understand what he’s saying, you regret making any effort at all.

“You can’t possibly be serious!”

But he is.

“You owe me, (Y/N)!”

“I’m already— What’s it even going to do?”

“Trust me on that one, okay?”

You glare at him, but he’s looking at you with his beautiful brown eyes, and there’s nothing you can do against that. You sigh deeply. Your heart is beating wildly in your chest just thinking about what he’s asking you to do. Maybe it’s not such a big deal for him, that sort of stuff, but for you— For you it’s downright insane to even consider.

“Kim Taehyung,” you hiss through gritted teeth, “if this goes bad, I’ll kill you and plant your head on a stick outside of my door to warn my enemies not to underestimate me.”

He has the audacity to shrug at that.

“It won’t go bad.”

You look up. Take a deep breath. And call Jungkook’s name.

The gym is insanely loud, and it takes both you and Taehyung’s efforts, as well as a lot of waving, for Jungkook to notice you. When he does, though, he runs towards you, worry obvious on his face. He’s looking directly at you for once, and the intensity of his stare almost makes you shiver.

“Is everything alright?” he asks when he gets there, eyes scanning you quickly to make sure that you’re okay.

“It’s fine, I just—”

“What are you doing here? You hate basketball. Did something happen?”

You shake your head. You don’t know how you’re supposed to do this, especially when he’s looking so puzzled and when he’s questioning your sanity for showing up at one of his games. You glance over at Taehyung who gives you a decided nod.

Ah. Fuck it.

Leaning over about as far as you can go, you cup Jungkook’s face, and as his expression turns to one of surprise, you kiss him. If people around notice or have a reaction, you can’t tell, because Jungkook pushes himself against you and buries his hand in your hair as he holds you. There’s not much space left for thinking in your mind, instead entirely consumed by thoughts of him. He’s completely sober this time, and you don’t taste alcohol on his tongue. He’s also not going as slow, almost desperately kissing you back, one strong hand supporting you so you don’t fall over, and you just melt.

It takes everything in you to push yourself away. When you do, you’re breathless, and he’s staring at you with eyes even wider than usual. You’re pretty sure Taehyung would want you to give an encouraging speech right now, but you don’t want to do that right now.

“I really don’t care if you’re winning or losing games,” you say instead. “If you’re sad, I’ll be sad with you, but it’s never going to change anything in how I see you. But I’ll be here encouraging you.”

He grabs your hand, squeezing it tight.

“Promise?” he asks, almost childishly.

You’re not sure which part he’s referring to, but they’re all true, so you nod.

“I promise.”

He smiles, and then both him and Taehyung are running back across the field and getting yelled at by their coach, but even from where you’re standing, you can see their smiles.

You guess that means you’re not going to murder Taehyung.

“This is actually insane. How is Jungkook even doing that?” Yoongi asks in disbelief after Jungkook scored extremely impressively yet again, and you fidget in your seat. You’re very happy to see that, though you don’t how you feel about the smug looks Taehyung is sending you, but you don’t want—

“It’s the power of love,” Jin says, nodding like he just gave an essential truth to the meaning of life.

—this. You, very specifically, don’t want this.

“Jin,” you sigh, “there’s no such thing as—”

“Actually,” Namjoon interrupts you, “I think he’s right. The power of love is a thing, and I think this is a perfect demonstration of it.”

You gape at him, in shock. He betrayed you?

“Did you just—”

“Namjoon’s right,” Yoongi nods. “This is how the power of love works. You take love, and you turn it into strength.”

And then, him, Jin and Namjoon high five, and you gasp. Traitors. All of them.

But after that, Jimin says off-handedly “Maybe you should come and kiss me before my next competition” and Yoongi’s brain visibly stops functioning, so you consider yourself avenged.

After the match, you wait for Jungkook outside of the locker room. Jin insisted you should go celebrate on the field, but you had declined. It felt like the situation required something a little more private, so now you’re here, leaning against the wall, looking at your phone so you’ll seem busy, even if there’s nothing on there to occupy yourself.

You’re not the only one there, and that doesn’t help soothing your nerves. There are a lot of girls, all pretty and smiling. It makes you feel like a groupie, and you don’t like it. You’re relieved for a second when the door opens and the team comes out, but it doesn’t last long, because the girls are soon surrounding them. You remain where you were standing, watching the whole thing happen. It takes a few moments before you notice Jungkook’s bun standing out of the group, and it makes you smile.

You catch Taehyung’s eye first, and, after you’ve sent him a glare that you hope was threatening, he pushes Jungkook out of the group. At first, he seems confused, before he finally finds you. You wave at him hesitantly. He blinks a few times, his eyes wide, then walks towards you.

“Hey,” he says when he joins you. He’s towering over you. Usually, you don’t like that, and you’ve complained about having to look up at Namjoon more than once, but you don’t necessarily mind right now.

“Hey,” you reply.

Silence stretches between the two of you as you try to think of something to say. You should have prepared a speech, you know that, but you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t have been able to say it either.

“Taehyung told me he told you to kiss me,” Jungkook blurts out after a while, looking away from you, and you give him a surprised glance. “So, you don’t have to—��

“No, I wanted to kiss you,” you interrupt him, a puzzled frown forming on your face.

Jungkook’s head whips back towards you, and you just stare at him in confusion.

“Do you really think I would have kissed you just because Taehyung asked me to?”

“Well you— you came to the game because he asked you to, right?”

“That’s not the same—”

“Jungkook!” someone from the team calls. “We’re going to grab a bite to celebrate, do you wanna come?”

Jungkook sighs, then gives you a sharp look.

“You wanted to kiss me,” he repeats.

You nod.

“Why?”

You bite your lower lip, and you’re not oblivious to the way his eyes fall to your mouth when you do.

“And I’m the blunt one,” you mumble.

“Sorry, I–”

“No, no, it’s fine, it’s just— I wanted to kiss you because I like you. Obviously.”

Jungkook swallows, and you can see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He looks over his shoulder at his friends.

“You can go without me!”

There are some protests, but he ignores them to give you his entire attention. It’s… not an unpleasant feeling.

“You disappeared after I kissed you the last time,” he says.

“You left,” you protest immediately. “You kissed me, and then the second your friends arrived, you acted like nothing happened and you left.”

“I didn’t want to— I just— They’re really annoying about that stuff, you know? I thought it would probably be better if I talked to you after— ‘m sorry. I didn’t— didn’t realize it—”

You look at Jungkook, watch him fumbling for words, and it hits you like a ton of bricks, how much you do like him. Those words really don’t do it justice, and maybe you’re not quite ready to talk about love just yet, but you like him so much, so much it makes your heart swell, so much you don’t think what what he’s trying to tell you would change anything to it, and yet what he’s trying to say is exactly what prompts your realization. He didn’t want to hurt you. Wanted this to be private, for just the two of you, wanted to see how you felt about it. And maybe he went the wrong way about it, but it means everything that he was trying.

“Walk me home?” you ask.

Jungkook finally stops his rambling.

“Are you sure?”

Of course, he has to ask that now, after weeks of trying to convince him to let you walk on your own. Still, you smile and nod, and when you start walking side by side, you grab his hand. He freezes temporarily before grinning and squeezing your hand, pulling it into his pocket so you won’t be too cold, because the air of January is chilling.

“Congratulations for the game,” you say after a long, comfortable silence. You had almost forgotten about it.

“Thanks,” he chuckles. “I had some help.”

And then, he winks at you, and your heart misses a beat. That’s when you understand something you hadn’t even considered before: if Jungkook stops being shy around you, you’re done for. You’ll be the one constantly flustered.

“So,” you say, slowly, trying to keep yourself composed, “why did you kiss me?”

“Um. Same as you?” Jungkook’s confidence disappears, and he returns to his awkward self, and you see that, as much as you like it, you want him to be comfortable around you. But that doesn’t mean you can’t tease him a little.

“What do you mean by that?” you ask innocently.

He gives you a horrified look that soon turns to an offended one when he notices you grinning widely.

“You’re so mean,” he says, but he’s smiling too, “you’re the meanest person I know.”

You’re laughing at that point, as you stop in front of your dorm.

“That’s not an answer.”

“Fine,” he sighs dramatically. “I kissed you because I like you.”

It’s funny. You knew that was what he was going to say, knew it was coming, and yet it gets to you all the same.

“With you, I don’t feel like I have to be the school’s star, you know? I can just be— Jungkook. You don’t expect me to be anything else.”

He’s right. You like Jungkook. With his insecurities and his flaws. You don’t want him to perform for you, and you don’t care what he’s doing right and wrong. Just studying maths in the library with him makes you happy.

He eyes your dorm and takes a deep breath.

“I should go,” he says.

You hum.

“Yes, it would be a really bad idea if you came up tonight.”

But you’re not letting go of his hand, and he’s close to you now, close enough that you can feel his breath catching in his throat. It makes you smile.

“You’re so mean,” he repeats.

This time, instead of laughing, you kiss him, and it’s completely different from the two previous times. There is no uncertainty in this kiss, no surprise, no pressure, no fear. It’s perfect. Jungkook’s hand comes to cup your cheek, his lips soft against your own. His long fingers gently stroke your jaw as he keeps the kiss chaste and sweet. It only makes you yearn for more and when he moves away, you can see in his eyes that he wants more as well.

You just don’t think he wants it now.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” you ask.

“I’ll meet you for lunch,” he says solemnly, and it rings like a promise, which makes you smile.

When you move away, though, he doesn’t let go of you, and a pouty expression appears on his face before he releases you.

“I— Yeah. You should go.”

“You can come up if you want to, you know?”

He hesitates, rolls his lips together.

“I want to savor this,” he admits to you in a near whisper.

“Then I’ll go.”

“Yes. Good night.”

“Good night.”

You feel light and giddy as you walk through the door. It’s a nice and strange feeling, like you could just start floating any second.

You already can’t wait for the next day.

People are definitely weirded out by your relationship with Jungkook. Or, rather, by Jungkook’s relationship with you. You’re pretty sure most of the people who give you weird looks when you sit next to him and he wraps his arm around you, or when you walk hand in hand, wouldn’t pay attention to you if you went to class naked. But they all know who Jungkook is, and you guess it is weird to see you in conjunction with him.

They could ignore it and consider you mere part of the scenery when he ate with you, you suppose, but it is harder to do now. You’re not too fond of being the center of attention, to be honest. You don’t know how Jungkook does it.

What takes you by surprise the most is people being nice to you. That confuses you to no end, because you know for a fact they don’t care about you, not really, and you cannot fathom what they think they’re going to get out of this. You’re pretty sure there are a girl or two who are doing that to get closer to Jungkook, and some, you think, have decided to be nice to you because they think that if Jungkook likes you, you can’t be a total lost cause.

You don’t like that feeling. Not at all. You don’t like it when you’re going to class, you don’t like it during lunch, and you definitely, definitely do not like it when people rush towards you the second you get to a party.

Yeah, you’re giving Taehyung what he wanted, in the end. He said that both you and Jungkook owed him, because without him you wouldn’t be together, and you eventually gave in.

You thought it would be fine, now that you have someone to spend time with, but you understand with horror that your status has changed now. You’re not invisible anymore. You’re Jungkook’s girlfriendTM. Because of that, you spend much longer in the entrance making small talk than you would have wished to, and you’re stopped a couple of times while you’re desperately looking for your boyfriend to save you from this hell on earth.

You’re not surprised at all to find him playing beer pong with Taehyung and other guys from the team. He hasn’t gotten time to get drunk yet, so he’s quite impressive, but then again, they all are. That’s why they usually end up wasted.

The second he sees you, though, he abandons the game completely, and the smile on his face threatens to make your heart explode in your chest. Some of the guys turn around to look at you, give you a wave or a smile. Taehyung shouts a greeting.

“Hey,” Jungkook says, leaning in to press a quick kiss on your lips. He doesn’t like PDA all that much, but he never misses a chance to kiss you, and the thought makes you all giddy.

“Hey. Are you, um, having fun there?”

He shrugs.

“It’s not that bad. Wanna play?” He waits for your expression to turn to one of horror as you try to refuse politely before laughing. “Just kidding. Don’t worry about it.”

You let out a relieved breath. You know you and Jungkook are very different people, and you’re doing your best to take an interest in the things he likes. You’ve been learning the rules of basketball, for example, and though you still don’t believe you get the point, you like the way his eyes shine when you say something right about a game.

But you don’t take part in any of that stuff. Okay, you stop at that field that’s on your way home from the library every now and again, but that doesn’t count. It’s just you and him then, and you feel good and relaxed. You’ve even scored a couple of times now.

“Come on, I want to grab a drink,” Jungkook said, taking your hand in his, and you follow without protesting.

It’s probably your second mistake of the night: not realizing that getting a drink with and without Jungkook are two very different ordeals. On your way there, you get roped into several conversations. Those are fine. You can’t say you enjoy them, but they’re fine, and it’s not like those people are actually talking to you anyway.

What you genuinely dislike is that, when you’re by the table with the drinks, a girl starts openly flirting with your boyfriend. It’s not subtle, either, with the way she keeps touching his arm and how she laughs at his every word.

For a while, you just stare in disbelief. You know Jungkook is oblivious to that sort of things — probably one more reason why he likes how blunt you are — but you can’t believe her. You wouldn’t necessarily blame the girl for trying, either, if she didn’t know about you. Jungkook’s quite the catch after all, and you understand liking him better than anyone else.

No, it’s the fact that she’s doing it right in front of you, while Jungkook is holding your hand. It feels so— dismissive. So insulting. She’s not exactly saying to your face that she doesn’t take you seriously, but she might as well.

You watch incredulously when she puts her hand on his arm one more time. You don’t know how you’re supposed to handle that, so you just tug on Jungkook’s hand a little awkwardly. You’re pleased by how quickly his attention snaps to you, even while the girl is in the middle of her sentence. It’s a petty sentiment, for sure, but you can’t help it.

“Everything okay?” he asks. “Is it too loud in here?”

“Kind of, but—”

“Let’s find you a quieter place.”

He forgets about the drink he wanted to get, forgets about the girl, who he abandons there unceremoniously, gently pulling you through the room. Next thing you know, he’s carefully closing the doors of the closet he’s found for the two of you behind you.

“There,” he says, sounding satisfied with himself. “Better?”

You chuckle at that and, guessing for him in the half-light, you pull him towards you for a kiss. You press your body against his, pushing him against the back of the closet, and a groan forms in his throat. His hands tighten around you, sending shivers through your entire being, and you only lean into him more. You run your fingers over his chest, just to feel him tremble under your touch and he does, hissing with pleasure at the contact.

“Fuck,” he mumbles into your mouth. “Was that— was that what you had in mind?”

You shake your head, and he’s close enough to feel it.

“That girl was flirting with you,” you tell him.

“Oh. Are you sure?”

You are.

“So… are you jealous? Because that’s kind of hot.”

You laugh softly. Truth is, you really, really don’t want to be the jealous girlfriend, but Jungkook actually sounds happy about the idea.

“You really didn’t notice?”

There’s a moment of silence.

“I didn’t. Does that— Did it bother you, that she was doing that?”

“Kind of,” you shrug. “What about you? You’re— cool with that?”

“If it bothers you I don’t like it,” he replies simply, one of his hand leaving your waist to grab yours and squeeze it gently. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice.”

That makes you chuckle.

“How didn’t you? She would have made it barely more obvious if she had started undressing herself.”

Jungkook has an awkward laugh, and you can feel his breath on your face. He starts fidgeting, but then you press a kiss right at the corner of his lips, and he calms down, if just a little.

“It’s— You have to promise you won’t make fun of me.”

“I won’t.”

He hesitates a second longer, as though he’s trying to judge your sincerity by looking at you — except, of course, he can barely see a thing in here. You kiss him again, following his jaw, and he finally gives in when you start making your way down his neck.

“When I’m with you, it’s like my vision narrows on you,” he says, voice low. “I know everything and everyone else is still there, but I just think about you. Sorry, it’s really stupid.”

“It’s not,” you say, shaking your head, wondering if he can feel your heart beating stupidly fast in your chest, all because his words make you feel like nothing else ever has before. “But I’m— I’m kind of boring. That can’t be fun.”

“You’re not boring,” he protests. “You listen to people, even when you don’t look like it. You always look like you have a thousand things on your mind but you always make time for your friends, and when you’re studying here, you play with your hair.” He twirls a lock of your hair around one of his fingers before releasing it, as if to demonstrate. “You’re a very, very interesting person to look at.”

The only thing you can do is stay there, frozen in his arms, after he’s said that. You may be blunt, but Jungkook is honest. Devastatingly so. His vulnerability always shatters the walls that you’ve built around yourself, and you still don’t know how to react when that happens.

So you push yourself on your tiptoes to kiss him again, except this time it’s slow and gentle and you’re trying to put everything he means to you into it. The tip of your fingers are on his cheeks, your mouth barely moving against his, soft noises filling the closet. Jungkook remains still, letting you in complete control, like he’s afraid he could break you if he moved.

“Thank you,” you whisper when you pull away from him.

“For what?” he asks, breathless.

“For being here with me tonight, and for coming with me at that first party.”

“Of course. Any time.”

He lets himself fall to the floor, taking you down with him and keeping you into his lap once he’s done that. You rest your head against his chest. You hear the noises of the party still going on outside, but Jungkook is your island of peace in the middle of the chaos.

“I think I’m going to stop basketball,” Jungkook blurts out without a warning, and you look at him, surprised.

“Really?” you ask.

“Yeah. Really. I just— I don’t want to be doing that anymore.”

You think about it for a few seconds, then nod.

“You probably should stop, in that case.”

“People are… not going to be happy about it.”

“I’m sure Taehyung won’t be mad at you. Well, not for too long.”

He laughs softly, but his hold on you doesn’t relax, and you know that this was hard for him to even consider. You know it’s a terrifying decision to take, too.

“Thank you,” he says. “For being here with me tonight, too.”

“Any time.”

The truth is, you wouldn’t give that moment away for anything in the world, and something tells you Jungkook wouldn’t either. It’s not ideal, it’s not perfect, but you don’t believe there is such a thing, and you’re happy to satisfy yourself with the imperfect.

But any moment you can spend in Jungkook is as close to perfect as can be.

“I love you,” he whispers in your ear, and you think that he might feels the same way, which almost makes you burst with happiness.

“And I love you,” you whisper back.

Not perfect, perhaps. But close enough.

#jungkook x reader #bts #bts imagine #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #bts fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #jeon jungkook #candywrites

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simpsiren · 3 years

Text

the uptight softie;

lee jeno x reader

Jeno Lee, president of the student council here in college. He’s everything you’d expect a president to be. Uptight, firm, yet still kind and sweet with his gentle side that you wouldn’t expect to stand out till you actually bother to talk to him. Though he unwillingly got voted, he still has a reputation to keep up, therefore the reason for his stern nature, not wanting to slip at any point of his college life to keep his position and do anything that’ll benefit him in University.

genre. angst, fluff, strangers to friends to lovers

word count. 19.2k~ (someone stop me omg sshsjsj)

description. Money. It has always been tempting isn’t it? It’s what makes the world go round. In this life where circumstances could easily be tipped in favour of the rich and powerful, it’s no surprise when one day Jeno is met with a woman that struck up a deal for him to tame her daughter to earn money in return. He thought it was a simple job, till he came face to face with the girl he had to keep under control.

!as they should masterlist!

It all started on a Tuesday. First week of the new school year. Jeno, being appointed as the new president of the student council, his first job was to plan a welcoming party for the new students fresh out of high school coming into their college.

“Can we please have alcohol?” Everyone’s heads turned to Ten in unison as his suggestion rang through the ears of the council members. With a sigh, Jeno leaned forward and covered his eyes with his hand for a moment before removing it and replying a, “Do you want me to be stripped of my position?” He questioned, not expecting a reply in return as he darted his eyes down on Ten.

“We can simply sneak it in though.” Jeno gaped his mouth open, lightly scoffing in disbelief as he heard his vice president even considering it as well. “You can’t be serious, Haechan.” Jeno leaned back into his chair, arms folded as the room fell silent. Everyone watched quietly while Jeno was deep in thought. He suddenly sprung back, sitting upright and placing his arms on the table, fingers clasped together in the most formal way possible.

“Only for the seniors.” Jeno scanned his eyes across the room, reading everyone’s expression that he couldn’t quite make out. Ten lets out a groan, slamming both hands palm down on the table. “Um hello? This party is for the freshmen for God’s sake. Why even allow alcohol when you’re only giving it to the seniors? No seniors will be there but us.” Ten rolled his eyes and huffed in exasperation. “We can get drunk anytime.”

Jeno turned his head to his next targets, aka the rest of the council. “What’s your say on this matter?” The four members, Mark, Winwin, Sungchan and Yangyang exchanged looks with each other. Jeno squinted his eyes while watching them send telepathic messages among them. None chose to reply Jeno. And so Mark was the only one to speak for the rest, saying, “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Ten stood up, pushing his chair so far back that it made contact with the wall, hands on his hips as he tried to supress his anger, Haechan doing the same while sitting down and dropping his head on the table. Jeno confidently rose from his chair, the loud sound of him closing shut the clipboard he had for the meeting. “That’s settles it. Meeting’s over.” Jeno announced with a very small, almost invisible smirk.

Ten and Haechan groaned and sulked in disappointment together while the rest began to pack up. Jeno made his way to the door with a cunning smile on his face. Just as he was about to grab the door handle, the door was already flung open for him. “Maybe I speak to Mr. Lee?” Jeno looked at the person standing in front of him. It was a woman. A young and healthy woman in her forties. It seemed like she had everything designer. Clothes, handbag, accessories.

“Which one are you referring to?” Haechan shouted from the back, making Jeno glance over his shoulder and wanting to roll his eyes but refrained himself from doing so in front of the woman. “Mr. Lee Jeno, of course.” Haechan lets out a loud and shameless ‘tsk’. Jeno cleared his throat, moving his body aside to give way for the woman. “Come in. Guys please exit quickly, thank you.” The woman walked in and took a seat. Jeno waited for the rest to float out of the meeting room and sat back down in his original spot.

“So who are you and why have you come to visit me?” Jeno asked politely, placing his clipboard back on the table and looking at the woman who sat two seats away from him. “I have an urgent matter to discuss.” She began, and Jeno was all ears. “I assume you’re aware that there’s going to be a new transferee.” Jeno glanced sideways and nodded, remembering that he’s been informed on the matter before the start of the school year.

“And what about it?” The woman sighed, leaning in as she stared at Jeno. Not knowing how to react, he simply stared back. “The one that’s transferring is my daughter. And I’ll be straight up with you. She’s not the best student to have around.” Jeno arched his brow in a questioning manner upon hearing the description from the apparent mother of the transferee. “She’s hard to handle. A delinquent, in other terms.”

Jeno didn’t know what to reply. He’d be asking, “So what’s this got to do with me?” But the woman already answered that mental question of his, saying, “As president I think you’re the most suitable person to take care of her.” Jeno blinked his eyes rapidly. Heaving a silent sigh, he licked his lower lip and looked to the table for a moment. “You want me to keep an eye on her?” Jeno asked, inferring from her previous comment.

The woman sucked in her lips and nodded firmly. “She’s been moving from college to college and she never seems to stay for longer than a semester. I’m hoping to stop this by having her be tamed.” Jeno placed his hands firmly on his thighs, leaning in as the side of his lips crept up into a small smirk. “What do I get out of this?” Ah, of course. The golden question. What could Jeno do? He was genuinely curious. And he was never one to do something if it didn’t benefit him in some way.

“I’ll pay you for it.” Jeno couldn’t even bat an eye as her words went in his ears and settled in his mind. He couldn’t help but gap his mouth open ever so slightly. He knew the woman was rich. He began to think about just how much is she willing to pay for such a job. “She’s rich so I could negotiate with her.” Jeno thought to himself, clearly already intrigued.

“How much?” The woman raised both her eyebrows, as if surprised that she’s been asked that question. “Two thousand every month. I’m willing to pay more if you do a good job and she doesn’t get into trouble for the first half of the semester.” Jeno chuckled for a second, nodding his head as he began to felt happy. Looks like he didn’t need to negotiate after all. But he also wondered if she’s paying him this much due to how hard the job could be. Either way, blinded by money, Jeno placed his palm firmly on the table and whispered, “Deal.” with much determination.

I was out at a restaurant. And though I knew I had fo attend college soon, I didn’t give two shits. I simply ordered a ribeye steak for dinner and enjoyed the luxuries of spending the money in my credit card away into thin air.

I was just finishing my last bite when my phone dinged. Curious, I flipped my phone screen side up since I haven’t looked at it the moment I stepped into the restaurant. The sight of the notification had my eyes rolling even before I opened it. “College of NCT?” I questioned, reading over the words sent from my mother. So that’s the new college I’m attending. I didn’t even have time to mentally prepare. “Thanks for telling me so late.” I muttered, turning off my phone and shoving it in my pocket and left the restaurant after making my payment.

No one was at home, as per usual. My parents usually working late every single day. It feels as if they’re never home. I got ready for bed, getting comfortable and letting my body sink into the silk sheets and fluffy blanket. I spent the night scrolling through Instagram stories. Just then, I pressed my thumb down on the screen, making it stop on one specific story that a follower of mine posted.

“Isn’t that the college I’m suppose to go to?” I asked myself, squinting my eyes to get a clear view of the picture. It was a group of girls, and behind them was the college crest. I smacked my lips, nodding in affirmation after I confirmed it. I got curious, spending more time to observe her next few stories. I tilted my head in awe, watching as she took a video of herself preparing some party somewhere on campus.

I texted a reply to her story asking, “What are you guys preparing for?” I rolled over so that I was laying on my stomach, shoulders to my ears as I waited for her reply. A reply popped up, making me instantly click on it. I gaped my mouth open, a mischievous chuckle escaping. “A party for the freshmen? Well I’m not a freshman but it’s still a party.” With a shrug I laid back down, turning off my phone as taking a mental note of when the party was so that I could have my fun.

I knew very well I had classes to get to before the party but I simply chose to skip. It’s only the start of the year anyways so I assumed that there wasn’t anything important for me to know, except for the party of course. It’s held on a Friday night, like all parties do. I decided to wear something casual, a sweater and wide legged jeans, something that doesn’t scream, “This girl is from a rich family.” I had to blend in, right?

While taking my necessities on the kitchen counter, my eyes slowly went to the cabinet where my parents stored their alcohol. I looked left and right, as if I was being watched, thinking if I should grab a bottle. But, with a happy giggle, I skipped on over and slide open the glass door, eyes glazing over the many bottles of different alcohols. Without giving it much thought, I grabbed the bottle that seemed to have the largest cotent and shoved it into my bag and went off.

I had to the take the train here, of course, again keeping up with my theme of not looking rich. The number of eyes I’d be receiving if I were to roll into their parking lot with my white lamborghini would have been countless. I took slow steps to the gate, eyes looking over the whole campus to get a glimpse of it. With a sigh, I said, perhaps too loudly, “It looks exactly the same as every college!” I glanced over my shoulder, a few eyes on me as they walked past but I shrugged and continued walking.

Entering the school, it was pretty easy having to know where the party was. I just had to follow the large crowd of youngsters. Loud chatters could be heard all around me. The more steps I took to the venue, the more I began to think about what was I even doing here. It’s a party, yes. But what was I doing here with freshmen? I shook my head as if clearing slate, wanting to take this outing as, “I should get a feel for the college anyways.”

I stepped in. It was an outdoor party, fairy lights dangling from tree to tree, making the area illuminated with an orange hue. There were circular white tables all over and equally spaced apart. I flashed an unimpressed expression, eyes drooping and body slightly slouched as I gaped my mouth open. “The fuck kind of party is this?” I questioned with a shake of my head, pinching my temples as I hear the most boring party music that being played through the speakers.

I made my way over to the pantry first thing, grabbing a plate and shoving whatever food I could till it was full. I grabbed an empty cup from the side and started to walk around for a place to sit. As I looked around, disappointed started to wash over me. The party felt too formal, but it also wasn’t since there were people jumping and dancing to whatever gross music the DJ chose to play.

I took out the bottle of alcohol, realising I had pulled out vodka. Either way, with a shrug of my shoulders, I opened the bottle and poured at least half into the red cup, sliding the bottle back in my bag discreetly. I leaned forward, elbows on the table letting it support my upper body as I took slow bites of whatever food I had on my plate. I bobbed my head slowly, trying to get a liking for the music being played but I groaned in despair. “Who even is the DJ. Whatever they’re playing sucks.” I turned my head to where the DJ was, he was banging his head so furiously and partying as if it’s the best song he’s ever played.

“Must be Lucas then.” I flinched and jumped around at the voice behind my back. It was a guy. I observed him up and down, he looked like any regular student, except for the fact that he’s way above average in the attractiveness scale. “And who might you be?” I questioned with a smile, unconsciously lifting up my cup and taking a sip.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, weight being placed on one leg as he leaned back slightly. “Lee Donghyuck. But I should be the one asking you that, right? You don’t look like a student here.” Donghyuck tilted his head to the side, a smile cracking on his lips. I huffed, placing the cup down roughly on the table. “Well, I’m about to be.” He squinted his eyes at me as if he knew something but tried to keep a neutral face.

“Can you tell this Lucas guy to play something better? This does not feel like a party at all.” Donghyuck scoffed at my comment, nodding his head with much agreement. “Right?! There isn’t even any alcohol.” He whined, shaking his shoulders from left to right and scrunching his face up like an unhappy baby. “Want some?” I asked, jerking my head down to the cup. He blinked his eyes rapidly, peeking into the drink. “You bought vodka? How’d you even know there wasn’t going to be drinks here?”

I chuckled in response, eyes staring at the drink for a moment before going back to meeting his gaze. “Could say I have my ways. But with the knowledge that it’s a freshmen party, it’s pretty clear that there won’t be any alcohol.” I wanted to gag at the way I spoke that. I was sounding too formal explaining something so simple. “Whoever planned this party can suck on toes.”

Donghyuck laughed out loud, leaning back and holding his stomach. “Oh God finally someone said it! Lee Jeno is in fact the most boring president there is!” He continuously banged his fists on the table, bursting with glee as he made fun of whoever Lee Jeno was. Donghyuck grabbed my cup and finished the entirety of the vodka, hissing as he swallowed. “Well I don’t know who you are but have fun. Don’t worry I’ll try to change the DJ.” With a flirtatious wink, he sauntered off, disappearing into the crowd in a matter of seconds.

I poured myself another half cup, downing it sip by sip and pouring again. The cycle went on and I already feel it kicking in, head beginning to spin ever so slightly as I even struggled to stand up. “Fuck.” I whispered, thinking about how drunk I already was as I lost track of how much I’ve downed in the past hour. I looked around, my vision blurred with little to no focus. Suddenly, the song changed, a huge drop was about to hit. I bobbed my head with a giggle, the music finally being something I could actually jam to.

I glanced down at my phone when the crowd settled down. Squinting my eyes, I realise that it was getting close to twelve in the morning. I shoved my phone in my bag and took wary steps, unstable each time I walked past a person and having to touch their shoulder for support. I stopped by a tree, panting as if I’ve run two kilometres to get here. I wasn’t feeling good at all. The world that was spinning in my head suddenly shuts down as my ears blocked out every noise in my surroundings, my vision getting worse and worse. Maybe I shouldn’t have bought the vodka.

I suddenly began coughing, my stomach starting to churn as I gagged, feeling as if I’m about to vomit any minute. I released my grip off the tree trunk, placing both hands in my knees as I hunched over, continuously coughing. I was about to collapse when I was suddenly being held up by my waist. “Woah you good there?” I didn’t know who it was, nor did I care. I let my body go weak, legs unable to support me no longer. “Hey what do you think of birds that get shot-” And just like that, it came out. The vomit, I mean. All the food I’ve eaten, the vodka. I realised I vomited on this person’s shirt, making him let go of me and taking steps back in shock. And before I could even hear them say anything, I passed out unconscious.

I winced in pain the moment I gained my consciousness. My body couldn’t move an inch and my head was banging, only making me place a hand on my head with little to no hope that that’ll help with the dizziness even the slightest bit. I slowly fluttered my eyes open, closing them back instantly as I was being blinded the lights of wherever I was at.

I opened back my eyes slightly, seeing a few figures standing around and looking down on me. I swallowed, trying to sit up straight but instantly failing, dropping my head back on the couch. The door was suddenly slammed opened, making me flinch at the sudden shock that flowed throughout my body.

“What’s such a big matter than I had to be called here?” A guy with a low voice half-shouted. He sounded extremely furious. Another guy came bursting in, going past the angry one and standing right in front of me. I narrowed my eyes, focusing on one random spot to get my vision to focus. And once I did, I was met with the sight of a bunch of men. All of them being ridiculously attractive.

“The fuck am I dreaming? Suddenly I’m dreaming.” I said with a giggle, putting my hands up in front of me and opening them up as if showing a rainbow. All of them kept silent till the angry one heaved an annoyed sigh. “Who even is she?” He asked. The one beside him groaned, placing a palm on his forehead. “Didn’t you read my text?! She literally vomited on my shirt!”

“And if you aren’t aware, she’s not even from our school!” I furrowed my eyebrows, his shouting making my head hurt even worse. “Bitch shut up you’re too loud.” I mumbled, rolling my eyes and waving a lazy hand to no specific person. He scoffed and leaned forward as if wanting to throw a punch but was quickly held back.

I made eye contact with every one of them. They were looking right back, simply staring as if they don’t know what to do. “So you’re saying she crashed here, Ten?” Another person questioned. “Well she was drunk.” He replied, folding his arms and huffing. I noticed how the angry one kept looking at me. He had his eyes squinted and staring meticulously.

Jeno couldn’t help but try and put the pieces together. Someone that wasn’t from his school apparently crashed their freshmen party and she said she’s about to be part of the school. It became obvious to Jeno that she could be the woman’s daughter. He wasn’t told when she would start attending since he had forgotten to ask about that crucial information, but it seemed like he didn’t have to. However, being way too tired to handle such a problem...

“Why did you even bring her here? Send her out. If the higher ups find out, I’m dead, not you idiots. This is why I didn’t want to allow alcohol in the first place.” He growled, voice getting lower than before and sending a shiver down my spine. And he left the room as quickly as he got in. Everyone let out sighs of relief the moment he did, as if his presence were choking them to death. “What did he even mean by that? It’s not like she knew about the no alcohol rule.” One grumbled. “Because she’s not suppose to be here in the first place!”

“Can you stand?” One of them held their hand out. I grabbed it as they helped to pull me up, my back instantly slouching with bended knees to get my balance. “S-Should one of us send you home or?” He looked to the others, silently asking for either their help or their opinion. One of them shrugged and folded his arms. “Wait!” The guy I vomited on shouted.

“Did you say you aren’t from here but will he attending soon?” He leaned close to my face, to which I responded with a lean back. I blinked my eyes rapidly and nodded my head slowly, not sure of where he’s getting at. He immediately snapped his fingers as his mouth gaped open, so as his eyes as if a lightbulb appeared and glowed over his head. “You’re the transferee, aren’t you?!”

“What are you talking about, Ten?”

“Haechan I thought you knew about this? About the new student that’s transferring.” The person, now I remembered to be the Donghyuck I had a small conversation earlier, widened his eyes, flickering them from me to Ten. “Jeno didn’t tell me anything.” Ten groaned and shook his head. “Some vice president you are.” “Maybe Jeno doesn’t even know.”

“Winwin’s right. You can’t trust Ten. Who knows where he got this information.” “Twitter obviously.”“I’ll literally throw you off a building, Sungchan.”

Though I was still feeling a little sick in the stomach and head, it didn’t take me long to figure out what they’re talking about. Apparently Haechan is the vice president while I assumed this Jeno guy to be the president, with information from my previous chat Donghyuck, which now I knew to be Haechan. “Can I just sleep somewhere?” I croaked out, smacking my dried lips and running a hand through my hair. “I’ll do it.” The one that held my arm said, lifting his free hand up lazily. “Let’s go.”

I was taken to another room, which seemed to be a dorm. His room didn’t seem to look like a huge mess, but it wasn’t the cleanest either. He guided me through the door and settled me down on his bed. He went back to close the door and sat down on the floor, motioning his hand to the bed and saying, “You can sleep on my bed.” to which I responded with immediately plopping my body down and closing my eyes.

I was about to drift off to sleep when he suddenly cleared his throat, as if wanting to get my attention. I opened my eyes, seeing him sitting in front of me with his legs crossed and knees pulled to his chest. “Is it true that you’re the transferee Ten was talking about?” With a sigh, I nodded my head. “Why didn’t you come for your classes this week then?” Mark asked. “I’m lazy?” I replied with a light chuckle. “Honestly I don’t care. I just go when I feel like it.” I added on, shrugging. He pursed his lips into a thin line. “What course you taking?” “Biomedical science.”

“I’m Mark, by the way.” He introduced himself suddenly with a soft smile. I reciprocated it. “_____.” He looked around his room, seeming to be in thought. “Don’t worry about whatever just happened. We can settle it tomorrow.” He turned around, reaching his hand out to pull on a string that turned off the lamp light that was on when we stepped in. With that, I closed my eyes, instantly falling asleep the moment I did.

The next day, I was woken by the sunlight hitting my face, the windows and curtains that were closed last night now fully opened and lighting up the room. I took in my surroundings, spotting Mark sleeping on the floor, curled up with no pillows to hug or support his head. I sat up, rubbing my eyes and bending doen to tap Mark on the shoulder. “Good morning...?” I whispered.

I mentally chuckled to myself, thinking how I even ended up in such a situation. I came to a freshmen party, got drunk, got myself into trouble with a group of men I don’t even know. And now I was waking up in a dorm of a guy. He has still yet to wake up, so I shook his shoulder again, a little rougher this time. “Wake up.” I said, raising my voice slightly. I turned to my phone which was peeking from underneath the pillow to check the time. 10:05AM.

“Hey.” I shot my head back to Mark, who slowly got up with a grunt. He slouched his body forward and ruffled his messy hair vigorously. “Wait what time is it?” Mark asked, looking around frantically and patting his sweatpants for what I assumed to be his phone. “Chill it’s 10:05. I mean, unless you have morning classes.”

Mark placed a hand on his chest, exhaling slowly in relief. “No I don’t. Mine starts at one.” I clicked my tongue and nodded my head, taking in the irrelevant information. My phone dinged again, and it was from my mother. “Great. My mom found out about last night. How did she even know? I blocked her from my socials. And since when did she even care about what I do?” I thought to myself out loud, making Mark look at me and listening. “Sounds like you don’t have a good mother.” He commented. I scoffed at his words. “Well whatever you’re thinking just times that by a hundred.” Mark chuckled, standing up on his feet.

Mark looked down on his phone, his eyes scanning down the screen quickly before he lifted his eyes up to me. “Get ready by twelve. I just got told to send you to Jeno.” He shoved his phone into his sweatpants, wanting to walk away but he stopped when I shouted out his name, turning around sharply and humming in question.

“Is Jeno someone important...?” I asked, sounding somewhat scared. Mark chuckled lowly, scaring me even more like whatever words that were about to come out of his mouth would send me away from this school. “He’s... You could say an intimidating president of the student council. Like those bosses that tops everyone.” Mark described him carefully, the tone of admiration shining through slightly and thinking deep to find what other things about Jeno he could say.

“But he’s fine when you actually know him. He just puts on his tense nature during meetings, which scares most of our council members only during those meetings. For your information, he was the one that came in the room we were at yesterday looking pissed and angry.”

I looked up, trying to recall last night’s disaster. I did refer to him as “angry guy” in my mind, but I never bothered to take a close look at him and remember how he looked. “Should I be worried? “Depends on how you act when you’re talking to him.” Mark replied quickly and turned around to walk away into the bathroom.

I laid back on my bed, looking through my socials while waiting for him to finish showering. He came out after about ten minutes, now wearing jeans and a white shirt. Mark jerked his head to the bathroom, holding up the small towel he came out with and using it to dry his hair. I raised both my eyebrows and sat up, walking into the bathroom.

While showering I kept thinking about Jeno. I kept telling myself that I didn’t need to be scared, he didn’t sound scary at all. From the way Mark described him, I assumed he was like those “Hard Outer but Soft Inner” type of guy, which trust me I have met plenty of times. How could Jeno be any different? I had to wear the same clothes, which I found to be slightly uncomfortable but I just had to live with it till I move into the dorms.

I followed behind Mark as he took me to where Jeno wanted to meet me. Mark gave a pat on the shoulder, leaning in and whispering a “Goodluck.” when we ended up in front of the door. As I heard Mark’s footsteps walking away and eventually disappearing, I looked up at the sign on the door. “Student council.” I clicked my tongue, shrugging and going in without giving much thought.

The moment I stepped foot into the room, I felt it. I felt what Mark meant by his aura scaring the council members. The room was overpowered by the energy Jeno was radiating. I stared at him, not moving an inch. He didn’t move as well, simply sitting casually as his eyes met mine. It sent chills down my spine, just his stare alone. It felt as if I was being stripped with him scrutinizing my every physical detail. “Hey.” Jeno greeted. Surprisingly, it sounded light and normal. But who knows? It could just be for this one greeting.

I idled my way to the chairs, looking around I recognised this room. It was the one I woke up in last night when I was being surrounded by a whole gang. I slowly pulled out the chair and took the seat right next to him. I didn’t know I could be this intimidated. No words were yet to be said, and with each second that passed by, I wished that I could just melt and disappear from this place.

“I didn’t call you here to interrogate you about what happened last night. Though I found it odd how you came waltzing into the freshmen party that you weren’t invited to and caused yourself trouble.” Jeno leaned forward against the table, forearms up with his fingers interlocked and parallel to the table. I furrowed my eyebrows, forehead creased. I gulped, allowing myself some leeway from my tensed up posture to slouch my body into the seat. “Uh so do you need me to explain or-”

“No. I just need you to move into the dorm at building A, level five, dorm number fifty six tomorrow and start coming for class. From what I know, you skipped every single one this week. I don’t think that a good way to start the year, don’t you agree?” I didn’t quite know what to pick up from the way he was talking. It sounded professional, yet sending me a mental message that said, “I didn’t want to be here but oh look.” He could even sound like the leader of a wolf pack, if wolves could ever talk.

I stared into his dark, soulless eyes. I could see the annoyance in there like it’s lodged in his pupils. But he tried to keep it hidden with neutral expression. “I might not do the latter.” I said with a bob of my shoulders, as if I did not give a single care for the world, which to some extend, was true. “In fact I could pack my shit up and fly to London tonight.”

“Too bad. I don’t think that’ll be happening. Doing background research, I got to know that we’re taking the same course. And if I don’t see you in class next Monday, I can easily call backup and drag you into class.” Jeno placed a finger upright on the table, leaning in as his eyes widened and narrowed down on me, making him the only thing in my focus and preventing me from breaking our gaze.

The more I stared at him, the more my eyes trailed to not just his eyes that looked like a puppy’s, but his other features, from his hair to his nose and to his lips, which were all in perfect proportion within a beautifully sculptured face structure. I had to admit, he was attractive, more attractive than other guys I’ve been in contact with, he was however more to the cuter side. I wondered how I even passed such a face last night. But his face did not match his attitude at all. He had the look of someone bubbly and just simply adorable, not whatever he’s been radiating.

“Fuck what are you? My bodyguard or something? I do what I want.” I said, pushing the thought of his attractiveness out of my mind. The corner of his lips lifted up slightly. “Not while you’re here.” I leaned back, copying his expression as I scoffed in amusement. “Yeah sure.” I waved my hands in the air as if wanting to spread my sarcasm throughout the room. “If there isn’t anything else to discuss...” I trailed off, pushing my chair back freely and standing up, taking slow and relaxed strides to the door. I opened it and went out, just when the door was about to close behind me, Jeno shouted, “Monday, ten am!” the door slamming shut after.

I let out a ‘tsk’ and rolled my eyes, something I wasn’t able to do moments ago. “Drag me there, Mr. Lee Jeno.” I grumbled under my breath, folding my arms and making my way off campus, taking out my phone as I called my helper to get all my stuff moved to my designated dorm while I thought about what to eat for lunch.

I spent the weekend locked up in the dorm, to which I realised was much smaller than my room back home. But what did I expect anyways? I had to limit the things I had to bring here by at least a quarter, which led me to having a headache since I had to prioritize what I needed. I was simply online shopping, mostly for clothes and books. I already had my dorm tidied up too. I was just about to hit the confirm order button when it suddenly didn’t work. I keyed in my credit card information again, the same bolded in red error sign popping up on my computer. I huffed loudly, knowing exactly why this happened.

“Why did you deactivate my credit card?” I asked angrily the moment my mother picked up the phone. She gave me a long pause, to which fueled my anger more the longer she kept silent. “You’ve been spending too much money when you’re suppose to be concentrating in school.” I squinted my eyes which are still on the computer. I swung my chair around and away from the computer, crossing my legs as I let my free hand dangle off the arm rest. “What does money have to do with me concentrating in school?”

“I’m saying it’s a distraction and I’m not having you do anything that’ll keep you distracted from your studies.” And just like that, she hung up. I brought my phone back down from my ear, letting it drop on my lap as I leaned my head back, letting out an exaggerated groan. “How am I suppose to buy lunch without my card?” I suddenly asked myself, remembering the fact that I went cashless instantly when I got my card. I turned my chair back to my study table and reached my hand out for my wallet. I opened it quickly, placing my hand above my head at the sight. “Barely five dollars? Shit...”

I smacked my lips, looking around the room as I thought about what to do to solve this matter. Did my mom not take into consideration that I could be starving to death? I might as well do so and die of starvation. “What the hell are my options?” I questioned myself out loud. I was suddenly in a trance, my mind making calculations all over as I tried to lay out all the possible things I could do. Yes, I was this serious since I was that desperate for food right at that moment. I cursed, jumping off my chair and sliding my phone into the pocket of my hoodie and storming out of the door.

I paused in front of the door, the same sign on it sending my migraines if I were to look at it for any longer. I shook my head and burst the door open. To my surprise and luck, Jeno was sitting at the table, head tilted down and not giving a single reaction to my entrance. Silence filled the room for a moment till he spoke out, “Who are you to think you can come walking in here without knocking?” As if the world was put on slow motion, Jeno lifted his eyes off the table and to me, his head not moving at all as he pierced his gaze into mine like a sharp blade.

“Got a little situation for you.” I placed emphasis on the word ‘little’ to lighten the mood but I gave myself a mental slap afterwards, thinking that I gave off an impression to make it seem like it was a bigger problem than I intended it to be. But to be fair, it was a big problem. It was a food problem for God’s sake.

Jeno didn’t give me a reply, still staring at me, stern and fixated on me like he’d turn me to stone. “Apparently my mom deactivated my credit card and now I have zero money on me and I’m hungry.” Jeno raised an eyebrow at the matter, giving off the “So what?” kind of vibes which is absolutely not welcoming at all.

“And?” Jeno let out, his eyes now back on the table as he began to write something down. I sighed, glancing sideways as I thought about how much I was hating this. The atmosphere, the air that circulated the room could suffocate me till I stopped breathing, it was way too tense for my liking. “Yeah well uh you’re the only person I know so yes I’m asking you for money. I want my lunch.” I blurted out quickly, wanting to get it out there in his face. Jeno released his grip on his pen midair, letting it fall to the table. He shot is eyes up to be like rubber bands, a scrutinized expression painted on his face. “Seriously? That’s what you came here for? You could have asked anyone.”

Jeno regretted letting that out. He remembered that his job was to take care of this girl, as much as he was annoyed at the fact that he was burdened with such a matter, he had his mind set on the money, letting that being the reason for him to put up with this and not burst his head off from the annoyance he keeps getting whenever she showed up.

“Fine. But get your mother to settle this soon. And you’re paying me back after.” Jeno reached for his phone out of his back pocket, and while he scrolled his thumb down the screen, his eyes went back to me, making me tense my body up again. “Sit down?” Jeno questioned, but it was more of a demand. I quickly cleared my throat, glancing sideways before speeding up to take a seat at the exact some spot as yesterday.

We ordered take out and when it arrived, we were eating in pure silence, only the sounds of us munching and chewing to be heard. I watched as Jeno did his work while he ate, pen in one hand, hamburger on the other. The hamburger was close to his mouth as he kept taking a bite even though he has yet to swallow whatever’s left, resulting in his cheeks puffing up and chewing with his mouth full.

“What work you doing?” I asked out of curiosity, leaning in and peeking at the papers. It didn’t take me long to notice that it was related to the course I’m taking. Jen sighed, only speaking once he was done with his bite. “Assignments. You wouldn’t know since you have yet to attend class.” He mentioned it again, his words that were repeated sounding more harsh than it did before like he’s drilling it in my brain and wanting to pressure me.

“Jeez...” I mumbled, purposely making it loud for him to hear as I watch him roll his eyes in annoyance, which made him look cute if we’re being honest. “Then why do it in the student council room when you can just do it at your dorm?” I asked another question, sounding like those annoying children that just keeps throwing questions at you. And if you were short tempered, you’d explode trying to talk to them. “Because I have president duties to take care of as well.” Jeno replied in the most monotone voice ever. “Will you actually drag me to class if I chose not to go?”

“I don’t care if you have the will to go or not. I’ll drag your brain and body to the lecture hall if I needed to.” Jeno was quick to reply, I could tell he was already ticked off by me. I finished my drink, the sound that came from sucking air through the straw of an empty cup now filling the room. “If you don’t know, you have quite the reputation, especially on Twitter. If you don’t want to blow up with an image of me forcing you into class, I suggest you go willingly.” Jeno added on, clicking his pen and placing it down on the table as he leaned into his chair, a satisfied look in his eyes as he stared at his work.

“Fine. I’ll go. If you feed me lunch every day we have class.” Jeno scoffed at my comment, his tongue glazing over his upper teeth as he eyed me up and down. “You are aware that you are paying back for the food I buy just so you’ll attend class, right?” I puckered my lips, thinking it over. “Then my decision to go is still on hold.” I flashed a cheeky eye smile at him, giggling softly as I played around with the empty cup in my hand. Jeno squinted his eyes on me, shaking his head afterwards. “You can go once you’re finished. And take the trash out when you do.” Jeno jerked his chin up to the door. He was well aware that I was done with my food, I guess he wanted me out as quickly as possible, that I could infer.

I rose up from my seat and grabbed the plastic bags, exiting the room and closing the door behind me. While I went to the trashcan, I thought about how I was actually considering to go to class, thinking about how I could see this emotionless guy with pent up anger burst into flames if I tried to annoy him more. But in the end, it all came down to whether I would have enough energy to leave my bed in the morning.

I ended up sleeping very late that day, close to four in the morning actually. Spending those hours with reading and also falling down the rabbit hole of Youtube’s late night algorithm because once you start, it’ll never end. Despite the late hour that I fell asleep, I was still able to wake up before ten. I realised it was eight, making me roll in my bed and groaning in despair. I kept thinking to myself how did I even wake up this early and why? For one, I wished that I overslept so I wouldn’t have to attend class. But then I remembered the huge problem I had to deal with if I chose to do so.

After scrolling through my socials for a bit, I rolled out of bed, practically falling to the floor right affer since I have yet to gather any energy for my tired body and dragged my feet unwillingly to the bathroom to get ready. I didn’t know what to bring for class. I stared at the stack of books on my study table while I had my bag wide open after I shoved my other necessities in. I scratched my head. “Why do I do this?” I muttered to myself and simply grabbed the book at the top of the stack and went out.

Knowing which lecture hall to get to thanks to my mother informing me way before I even step foot into college, it was easy for me to find it and head in. There weren’t many people, I’d assume about ten scattered throughout the seats. I shrugged and planned to seat somewhere close to the back, however I ended up sitting at the second last row. I noticed how I had plenty of time before class but not enough for me to do anything outside. Not knowing what to do, I shoved in my earpiece into my ears and listened to music, opening the first page of the textbook I bought and making small doodles on the cover page.

As if on cue, the moment I looked up from the textbook, my hand still on it with my pencil just hovering, Jeno walked in. And it’s as if the whole hall turned into a runway. All the lights in the room were switched off, with one light to shine on him and only him. The light above hovered over him as he went up the flight of stairs.

To my surprise, he was wearing a green tropical button up, tucked into his black jeans along with black sneakers. All of it made his seemingly perfect body proportion prominent. His black hair that seemed to capture all the light was expertly slicked back with just a few strands falling down his forehead. Just as he walked past my row of seats, his eyes glanced to mine, and for a moment time stopped, he was frozen mid-walk as we made eye contact. I hate to admit it but, he did look effortlessly stunning.

I blinked my eyes rapidly, shaking my head to take myself back to reality. I turned my head to the back, Jeno was already sitting right behind me. He exhaled sharply while removing his bag off his shoulder. He mouthed something that I couldn’t make out since my music was overpowering every sound in the world. I widened my eyes and took one side off, asking, “What did you say?”

“Congratulations on coming.” Jeno said in the most non-celebratory tone ever. I slide my back down the seat, legs extending as I resumed my doodle of an eye. I could hear Jeno shuffling in his seat as he tried to take out whatever he needed for class. “We aren’t using that textbook, by the way.” I snapped my head back to face him. “Seriously?” Jeno scoffed and folded his arms, shoulders relaxed as he leaned back. “That textbook contains chapters five to ten. We’re only at chapter one, which is in the book before.” Jeno tilted his head to one side, a cunning and smile of mischief forming on his face. “Do you not bother knowing beforehand what the hell you’re learning this semester?”

I shook my head confidently at his question that I assumed wasn’t supposed to have a reply. “Never bothered.” I simply said. The lecturer walked in and class started. For the whole two hours, I was on my phone, reading, drawing, whatever the professor has said went in one ear and out the other. But I did try to take in some information, though I knew nothing about what’s been going on.

After class, I waited for everyone to leave, not wanting to handle the fact that I need to squeeze my way through everyone to get out the door. I was about to stand up when a hand was placed firmly on my table, which made me stop in my actions to look up, seeing it was Jeno. “What the hell-”

“Did you understand anything that he went through?” Jeno jerked his head to be back where the professor was still there packing his stuff. I sat back down, hand lifted up to swirl it around carefree. “Eh here and there. Some things I knew from last year.” I said with a shrug. Jeno nodded his head with sucked lips. “I’m surprised you even bothered listening. All I saw you do was using your phone and drawing.” I chuckled. “I chose to do Biomedical for a reason.”

“Anyways, you need to catch up on whatever you missed since we have a mini quiz that’s coming soon and I’m well aware that you only know five percent of whatever’s going to be tested.” I gaped my mouth open in pure shock with protuberant eyes. “Mini quiz?! It’s only January!” I raised my voice slightly, being wary as I waited for the professor to walk out.

“We have a quiz at the end of every month.” My mouth was hung open as this point, jaw to the floor as I blinked my eyes rapidly after. “None of the colleges I’ve been to even do that!” I was now able to shout, echos being followed up with it as it spreads throughout the hall. “Well now you know.” Jeno retorted back with a halfhearted smile.

“So what do I go to the council room or something?” I questioned with raised brows. Jeno suddenly slammed a sticky note on my table, I glanced down at it before looking back at him. “Come to this address at six. I’ll teach you from there. And bring the right textbook.” Just like that, he turned around sharply and walked out of the hall, though it didn’t look like a dramatic exit, to me it was.

I peeled the sticky note off my table, inspecting it closely as I read the address that Jeno wrote in such a neat handwriting, but it made sense for him to write like that. I could tell from his character. Curious, I decided to search it up while I made my way back to the dorm. Sliding the sticky note into my pocket, I read whatever was on the screen the moment Google finished loading.

“Wait it’s a tutoring centre?” I tilted my head a few degress as the name of the address I keyed in was shown on screen. I began to wonder why he wanted to teach me at a tuition centre when I could simply go to his dorm, or the council room. Though I was thinking long and hard about it, the moment I entered my dorm, it completely went out my mind and plopped myself onto my bed, getting comfortable as I fell asleep instantly when I closed my eyes.

It has always been a routine of mine to take an afternoon nap. I did wake up at three but went back to sleep since I felt that it was too early for me to get up. I knew that the tutoring centre was within walking distance so I didn’t have to rush either. I woke up for the second time, seeing that it was five fifteen. Though I knew I had time, I decided to head out and make a trip to Starbucks before I went there.

I got my drink and I was able to arrive at the centre right on time. When I entered, I was completely clueless, I didn’t know where Jeno was and all I could see were rooms after rooms. I went up to the font desk where there was a woman sitting down. “Um hi can I know where Lee Jeno is?” She flashed a warm smile and motioned her hand toward the hallway. “Right down there. Just find room twenty four.” I downshifted my head as a way to say thank you and followed the direction of her hand.

I looked left and right, trying to find the room number. I finally spotted it, walking up and peeking my head at the window on the door that gave me view on the inside. What I saw shocked me. The room was filled with kids, sitting down and concentrating on their own work while Jeno was at the front of the room, with a boy next to him.

I knocked on the door and walked in, never really thought about waiting for him to say, “Come in.” The kids has their heads turned to me for only a moment before going back to their work, not giving me my entrance much thought. “You guys can pack up and leave now! Don’t study too hard and make sure you rest, okay?”

“Yes, Jeno!” With that, the room got noisy with the kids talking to each other while they packed their bags. I went deeper into the room the give them space to leave. It was now only Jeno the kid next to Jeno that has yet to leave. I couldn’t help but get close to them to see what they were doing.

I gaped my mouth in awe, realising that Jeno was teaching the young boy. Jeno had his arm around the boy’s shoulder, having to be on his knees to meet the height of the boy while he bent his back forward to put his face next to his. The boy was extremely attentive while Jeno gave out clear explanations. I noticed a few things about Jeno while I was watching this. One, he’s nothing like how he is in college. He seemed bright and nice, gentle with the kids. Two, he’s extremely smart. Of course he would be. He’s working at a tutoring centre teaching kids. Three, I saw him smile for the first time.

Jeno helped the boy pack his bag and when he was about to leave, he turned around, waving his hand happily to Jeno. Jeno did the same, and when I turned my head from the boy to him, he had such a big smile, a smile to wide that his eyes formed a thin line. His smiling face resembled so much of a puppy’s. It shocked me to see this side of him, a completely new one that seemed to only be reserved within these walls. “Bye bye!” The boy squealed, closing the door behind him.

Jeno walked back to the front seat, taking out the textbook as well as his stationery. He looked up to me. “Aren’t you going to sit down?” And Jeno was back to being his usual self, turning to stone real quick as if none of his cheerfulness happened moments ago with the kids. I placed my coffee on the table and sat next to him. “You’re working here?” I asked very slowly, almost in a “I refuse to believe this is true” tone.

He nodded his head in response. “Part time. They let me use the room after my shift so I usually study here.” Jeno, despite being tall and having his knees to his chest while sitting on the kid sized chair, seemed comfortable and he pulled it in to get closer to the table. Jeno began teaching me and as expected, he thought me well, better than the professor actually. He sounded quite lively, again being different from his regular stoned nature as he had an aura that every kid would love their teachers to have. “So do you get it now?”

“No.” “Are you fucking serious?” “Yes.”

Jeno was instantly frustrated. He suddenly took his bag from the side, taking out packets of what seemed to be gummy bears and other types of jellies and throwing his bag back down. He opened a packet furiously and began eating at such a fast rate. “What are you doing?” I asked, eyes widening as I watch him plop one gummy bear into his mouth at a time. “Stress eating, what do you think?” Jeno growled with a roll of his eyes. I brought my head forward, mouth closed and not knowing what to say.

Worried, I quickly let out a, “Oh my God stop I was joking. I heard everything you say! Stop the...” I said while swirling my hand in front of him. “Stress eating.” I finished my sentence. Jeno took in a deep breath and slammed the already finished packet on the table. His eyes trailed from the packet and to me very slowly. “I would’ve killed you if you actually wasted two hours of my time.” Jeno said lowly, his voice never failed to make me shiver as if it sent ice cold water down my body.

“Can I have one...” I asked, not being considerate about the fact that I sent Jeno on a stress eating spree seconds ago. “No.” He quickly replied, and I couldn’t help but frown, looking down on the table. He suddenly slid a packet in front of me, making me mutter, “Thanks.” while the two of us ate in silence after.

We lost track of time, and though the air that circulated us was silent most of the time, we did have chats here and there in attemps to fill in the awkward gaps. I suddenly remembered something, making me let out an “Ah” to which Jeno responded with a hum in question. I took out my wallet and slid out the cash that I took out before coming here. “For yesterday’s lunch.” I muttered. Jeno took the money without saying a word, putting it in his wallet and placing it on the table next to him. “When’s our next class?”

Jeno looked up thoughtfully before answering. “Thursday.” He replied. “Do you have anything to do before then?” Jeno clicked his tongue, nodding. “Of course I do. I need to take care of admin matters, and work.” Jeno talked as if he had a lot on his plate, to which I can clearly see. If he wasn’t studying, he’d be teaching. If he’s not doing either, he still had duties to fulfill as the president.

“Can I follow you around then?” Jeno gave me an unimpressed look. “You could be studying.” I groaned, letting my head fall to the table with my arms below for support. “Can I call you if I don’t know anything?” I questioned, shooting my head up to look at him, who had been staring at me since long ago.

“Why would you need to when I already laid it all out for you just now? Unless you weren’t listening.” Jeno slowly opened another packet of gummies. He was probably on his fifth one at this point. “I still need your number? You’re the only person I know in our course.” I said with a frown, which unconsciously turned into a pout. Jeno arched a brow at me. “I know your number. I’ll just text you later.” I hummed in response, nodding and placing my chin on the palm of my hand as I shoved gummy after gummy into my mouth.

The first quiz of the year was coming in two days. And if we’re being honest, I didn’t do any studying for it at all. The last time I concentrated on something was the time Jeno thought me for those two hours. I got home that night and looked through the notes I’ve taken down but that was the last time I saw it. I’m assuming it’s somewhere in my bag, but I was too lazy to search for it.

I laid down on my bed, boredom being the only thing I’ve been feeling these days as for one, my mother’s keeping track of my spendings which means that I can’t simply go out and do whatever I want, though I did went to an ice cream shop that sold an overly priced ice cream that I wanted to try out. I was disappointed that it didn’t live up to the hype I saw on Instagram. And for two, I had nothing to do. Sure, I had the money. But nowhere to go.

I scrolled through my contacts, which weren’t many to begin with since I wasn’t able to make friends from the constant transfers of schools. I then stopped on Jeno’s. I went over to Whatsapp where he sent a “Hey.” The night after the tutoring session. I replied back but he left me on read never bothered replying still, to which I muttered, “Rude.” as I looked at the two blue ticks beside my last text.

I decided to text him, asking “You free?” I checked his last seen. He was online two minutes ago. Surely, he’d get my notification. Luckily he did, he went online and blue ticked my text. As I watch the words “Typing...” just below his name, my heart starting beating faster ever so slightly for some reason. Why was I even getting nervous?

“Yeah. Why?” I could already hear his monotone voice that read those two words for me in my head. I was quick to reply with a, “Help me study for the quiz on Thursday.” He took about ten minutes to reply. “No. I taught you everything already.” I scrunched up my face at his reaction. What answer was I even thinking? I rolled my eyes in annoyance.

I never met Jeno after that one day. He came in and out of classes as if I was invisible, simply carrying on with whatever he’s been doing before I came here. Though I felt quite lonely, how could I blame him? I’d be too annoying for him to even tolerate.

“Please!” I texted, purposely sounding desperate. “Or else I’m skipping and I don’t have to take the test.” I giggled like a child that stole candy from her friend, wanting to see if I made an impression on him through text. Jeno replied so fast, making me laugh out loud. “Do you not care about your grades? It’s the first quiz and you’re already skipping. Do you want my hardwork of teaching you go to waste?” He sounded mad as I read that, oh he was definitely mad.

I quickly texted a reply. “Then teach me.” I sent a wink emoji after. Seconds later, he said, “Library, twelve am. Gtg, got a meeting.” I laughed to myself, nodding my head while I placed my phone screen down beside my pillow while I reach for my book from the study table to resume my day reading like how I’ve wasted the rest of my days.

It was late into the night. And at this time of the day, I wouldn’t actually have the brain power to even study. But I guess that Jeno was way too busy that he was only free. I was beginning to feel bad for calling him over to the library this late. Some students were still studying though. The library was dark with only the light at their table switched on, making the whole place just barely lit. I sat down at a random spot. I didn’t bother to bring my textbook since I had everything I needed to know in my notebook.

I heard the door open, and came walking in was Jeno. His outfit instantly caught my eye. This late into the night and he was wearing a loose baby pink suit, baggy blazer and dress pants. His hair that I assumed to be slicked back now all messy and in disarray. He scanned his eyes over the library and instantly spotted me, our eyes locking the whole way as he came to sit down.

“Thank for inviting me this late.” Jeno whispered, though his sarcasm was screaming loudly through his words. I took a moment to simply look at him. He looked tired, worn out. He ruffled his hair, nothing to give it support no longer as he tried to tame the messiness even the slightest bit. He ran a hand down his face as he exhaled. “So.” Jeno started, wasting no time.

Two of us sighed in unison, leaning back into our seats while I picked my phone up from the side to check the time. “One thirty. That’s not too bad.” I said with a shrug. Jeno was scratching the crown of his head, closing his eyes. I couldn’t help but had my eyes superglued to him this whole time. Something about “tired Jeno” just hit different.

“Did you do this on purpose?” Jeno suddenly asked, eyes flying open and darting it down to me. I leaned back, hands in the air swiftly in defence. “Maybe. But! I genuinely needed help in concentrating.” I raised both brows, my lips forming an upside down smile. “So what you can only concentrate when you’re with me?” Jeno questioned again, his voice making it seem like he was putting me on interrogation.

I bobbed my shoulders. “Perhaps so.” “Quick of you to assume that when it’s only been one month.” Jeno said with a smile that didn’t seem like a happy one but rather mischievous and cold. “What have you been doing the whole day wearing... that.” I asked, pointing to the suit he’s still wearing. It was only now that I noticed how he had the first three buttons of his white botton up opened, exposing his skin with his collarbone peeking out ever so slightly. I guess it had been covered by the blazer this whole time.

“Meetings. Haechan wanted us to start dressing formally for who knows what reason. Trying to act like we’re office workers or some shit when he can’t even handle being a vice.” Jeno complained, pressing the side of his hand to his eyebrows to shield his eyes and sighing. “You look fashionable so I guess it’s not all that bad.” I encourage with a nervous chuckle.

“At least we got through whatever we need to know today. We can spend the rest of the day doing nothing.” I blinked my widened eyes rapidly at him. “You’re free tomorrow?” Jeno nodded after pursing his lips into a thin line. “That’s rare.” I said, as if I knew him more than a month.

I went into the hall feeling confident about taking the quiz. To be honest, the topic wasn’t that hard. I am in fact smart, it’s just that I never bothered about my grades and reputation so I laid it off most of the time, like those students who study the day before the exam yet still achieve the highest of marks.

I was waiting for the professor to come in when Jeno came strolling in, the door flung open and I couldn’t believe what’s in my vision. Jeno dyed his hair, and not just any colour, he dyed it a bright baby blue. He stood out so much he was sticking out like a sore thumb. To add on, he wore a blue blazer with jeans to match his hair. He doesn’t even look like he’s taking a quiz today.

Just like everyone else in the hall, I had my eyes on him while he made his way to take his usual seat right behind me. And when he plopped down on his seat, I gaped my mouth extra wide in front of him and scoffed, my eyes trailing up to his hair. “I can’t believe this. You dyed your such in such a colour!” I shouted, maybe too loudly.

Jeno tilted his head downwards and constantly ran his hands through his hair, ruffling it and combing it, going back and forth with the two motions. “Why did you even-” “Tell you later. He’s here.” Jeno jerked his chin to the bottom of the hall when the professor came in. We did the quiz and resumed with the lecture. Luckily for me, I bought the right textbook this time as was able to follow up with the professor. We ended class as I instantly turned around to look at Jeno, still shocked at his drastic change in hair colour, but also impressed by how good it looked on him.

I noticed how most of the girls kept turning their heads to Jeno while they make their way out of the hall, constant whispers and mutters filled the room till everyone got out. “Mm you seem to be popular.” I said, placing my stationary into my bag. Jeno was packing up as well, standing up with a sigh that lasted three days.

“So why did you decide to suddenly dye your hair?” I asked as I closely followed next to Jeno while we went down the flight of stairs. “Are you like those girls on TikTok who dye their hair when they’re stressed out?” I added on, laughing softly after as I shifted all my hair to fall on my right shoulder.

“What? No. I had a party with the council last night. I was dared to dye my hair. They picked the colour.” Jeno said out. “Congratulations, by the way.” I tilted my head up to him, an eyebrow raised. “Why?”

“Because you didn’t do anything to get in trouble this month, excluding the freshmen party incident, as well as annoying me practically every time we meet.” I laughed, nudging him on the shoulder to make him look at me since he’s had his face looking forward the whole time on our way back to the dorms.

“At least I annoy you in a good way.” I said after Jeno looked down and locked eyes with me for a brief moment. I couldn’t help but notice how he smiled ever so softly before he broke away our gaze, a smile so small ot was almost invisible but I still saw it either way.

Jeno and I had this system of having me coming over to the tutoring centre for us to simply go over whatever we were taught that week. Surprisingly, but also not so, I did well on the quiz. Jeno and I continued to have these meetups. And though I thought it was only for studying purposes, I realised how I was focused, not because I had to study, but the fact that Jeno looked breathtaking almost everyday.

Generally, I’d be skipping and dodging every attempt from my mother forcing me to focus on schoolwork. Tutors, actual professors coming over to our home to teach when I’d be running off somewhere not wanting to deal with it. I didn’t feel that with Jeno. “Looks like you know everything.” I realised Jeno was talking and I came zinging back to attention. I nodded my head with a chuckle. “This is an easy chapter to be fair.” I bragged, twirling my pen between finger to finger. We packed our stuff and left the centre, going our separate ways after bidding each other goodnight.

Jeno watched her walk further and further into the distance till her figure grew smaller and finally disappeared when she turned the corner. Jeno looked down his phone, the message from her mother that was sent two hours ago still have yet to be opened. He unlocked his phone, texting a “Got it.” Before making his way over to the address that she sent.

It was a secluded café, hidden in the deeper parts of the neighbourhood where not many would pass by and visit. Jeno saw her sitting by the window, casually sipping on her drink. Jeno took in a deep breath before entering. He quickly made his way over to her, taking the seat opposite. “So.” Jeno exhaled sharply. “The money?” The woman nodded her head and cleared her throat. “I’ll have it wired to you after we’re done here.”

“Then why did you want to meet me?” Jeno tilted his head, eyebrows furrowed as he squinted his eyes. He watched the woman as she sat up straight and placed her hands on her knees. “I just wanted to ask how she’s been doing.” The woman said. Jeno clicked his tongue, nodding his head and glancing sideways before answering, “It wasn’t easy, but worth the money I’m about to get.”

Jeno thought about just how fast time flew by, especially when he was with her. They didn’t even hang out much, just pure study sessions at his part time work place. They never once hung out with a purpose outside of studying, though they’ve been doing it for months. Just like that, the first semester had already ended. At that moment Jeno recalled all the times he’s spent with her like a movie tape that flashed before his eyes. Their every memory vividly etched into his mind, a sudden one suddenly occuring to him the moment he mentioned it.

It was Febuary 14th, Valantines Day. And instantly, I grew scared as to what I had to face this day. It happened every year, at every college I had been. And I just so happen to have class today. I paced back and forth in my small dorm, peeling the dried skin off my lips with my teeth while I fiddled with the hang nails of my thumbs, contemplation of going to class being on my mind for far too long.

Not being able to handle the stress I’ve put on myself, I opened my closer, quickly thumbing through it and taking out a black jacket, along with black sunglasses. If I had to go this far just to attend class, I’d better be receiving some sort of reward from Jeno.

I could remember what happened last year so clearly. The moment I stepped out of the building, lots, and I mean lots of guys were waiting just for me, gifts and presents for them to confess their love which I clearly accepted none. I never wanted their gifts, it wasn’t of value at all, that I could tell with just a glimpse of it. It was annoying. I knew I was popular on my socials but I didn’t know it would have escalated to such extends.

I slowly turned the knob of my door, pushing it open and peeking just my head out, carefully looking both directions before pulling my entire body out into the open hallway. I placed my hood on, pulling it so far as to cover at least half of my face as I adjusted my sunglasses and began walking. If I had bothered, I would have gone through the back exit of this building. How unlucky was I to not do it, forcing myself through main exit of the building.

I gulped anxiously, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket as I kept my head tilted down the whole way. I had to take a few steps down a pathway, and just when I wanted to turn a corner, time froze for the shortest of second, a large group of guys, some I’ve seen on campus at some point during my time here, others being complete strangers. They were sitting down on the floor and leaning against the walls as if they’ve been awaiting for my arrival for hours.

I couldn’t even bat an eyelash before they began coming at me. And just like that, I had to sprint like I was being chased by zombies in an apocalypse. I ran for my life, and to who knows where, I was most probably running in circles while trying to find the Science department, but was too occupied by the terror I was faced with to even think straight.

“Fucking hell.” I muttered, already out of breath as I lost track of where I was heading and how long I’ve been running. I looked down at my phone, and out of pure desperation, I unlocked it with shaky fingers, wanting to call the first person that came to mind.

“Jeno!” I screamed a cry for help when I heard his unflattering, “What?” when he picked up. “Save me! I’m bring chased! Jeno!” I was practically wailing with exclamation marks at this point. His breathing disappeared instantly after that. I realised that he hung up, only making my eyes protuberant as ever as my mouth gaped open so wide at the audacity of Jeno.

I turned my head back, the screaming of the guys never stopping this entire time. “How’s their stamina so good?!” I thought to myself, not wanting to look back again and continue running ahead at full speed. After who knows how long, I finally saw the Science department coming into my view. I flashed the widest smile on my face as I made a run for it.

I was a few metres away when I was suddenly being pulled by an unknown force, pushing me against the wall while the shrieks of the guys got muffled and disappeared as they continued running in the same direction. I was panting heavily, desperately gasping for air as if all the air around me had been sucked away for my lungs to grasp. I took me awhile to get my mind in the current situation since I was overly tired from the ruckus I had just gone through.

I swallowed once I got my breathing to the regular. Looking over my shoulders, someone was holding them, firmly yet lightly as well. It felt protective yet gentle when made contact with my skin. My eyes ever so slowly trailed from the hand that gripped my shoulders, to their arm that I realised was extremely veiny and buffed, to their broad shoulders which length was much longer than mine, making it feel as if I was being trapped with their body loomed over me.

I tilted my head up, Jeno’s face and body inches away from mine. Our eyes met, and it locked, firm and secured. Like a struck of lightning, his touch had sent an electric shock throughout my whole body, specifically at our point of contact till it stung and burn, but in a good way. Jeno’s breathing brushed across the skin on my face which only made me stand there in his grip, frozen as ice with my chest clenching tighter and tighter due to the sudden wave of emotions I was feeling.

“They’re gone.” Jeno whispered, his eyes peered to the side, checking if the coast was clear yet he never seemed to remove his grip off me, let alone doing anything about the close proximity between us. Silence circled in the air for a brief moment till Jeno pushed himself away from me lightly. “Heard from the members that they suddenly saw you running around like some mad woman. Apparently you called and I had to run all over the place to catch you at the right time.”

I eyed Jeno head to toe. He looked flawless. He seemed to have dressed up fancier today. A pink blazer that went perfectly well with his blue hair, white dress pants, and black shoes, and even a black beret to tie the look. I noticed how he had his botton up opened three bottons down again, it seemed to be a style of his, which intentional or not, drew me in real quick.

“I was running around so that I’d waste time and not have to attend class.” I said with such pride, wanting to toy around with Jeno for the fun for it. Jeno blinked his eyes twice, corner of his lip lifting up. It wasn’t a smirk, but a look of much disbelief and amused in one. Jeno took a step back, effortlessly running a hand through his fluffy hair.

“I wasted thirty minutes of my time chasing you around to save your ass and you’re telling me it’s for fun and games?” He narrowed his eyes down on me, fear washed over me like a huge wave as his stare from before was now filled with much anger and annoyance. In a split second, he had his grip on my wrist, suddenly dragging me into the Science department and to our lecture hall.

Jeno burst the door wide open, everyone’s heads turning to the door instantly as the sound of the slamming echoed across the silent hall. “It’s rare to see you late Jeno. It’s your first time actually.” Jeno still had his hand around my wrist, releasing his tight grip ever so slightly to let my blood run though again. He glanced down to his shirt, adjusting it with his free hand while for a split second he looked at our hands, but was quick to regain himself.

“We had a little trouble.” Jeno downshifted his head in greeting and took us up to the back of the hall, eyes glued to us as I felt it behind my back, suppressing the urge to turn around and go, “Stop being weirded out for God’s sake!” Jeno gripped my wrist tighter, as if he felt my irritation through his touch. We sat down next to each other, the professor continuing after far too long of a silence.

“You’re getting me gummy bears for what you did today.” Jeno whispered in a coarse tone, his throat sounding dry. I giggled and nodded my head, taking out my materials while he did the same. “Cute.” Jeno stopped his actions, turning his head slowly while I continued. “Why?”

“Just...” I wandered, thinking about how to come up with an excuse to something I accidentally let out. But who am I kidding? I’m not one to hide my feelings anyway. “I just think it’s cute that you have a huge love for gummies and jellies. Like a kid.” I shrugged and leaned back in my seat, wanting to focus on my professor but couldn’t shake the fact of how I could clearly see Jeno holding his stare on me in my peripheral decision for a long minute before adverting his eyes down the hall.

Jeno looked down at his phone, the confirmation of the transfer being made. It was a huge sum of money that could last him ages. To be honest, he felt that it wasn’t hard taking care of her at all. Her mother made it sound a hundred times worst. But she seemed fine and genuinely normal around Jeno, just the fact that she liked to joke around and slack. With Jeno’s light push, she could immediately spring back into action.

However, he couldn’t help but think that what he’s doing was wrong. Jeno was forming a relationship with her for the sole purpose of getting money. Worst part, she didn’t even knew about the deal he had with her mother. It was to be kept a secret. And Jeno didn’t like it, he felt the guilt building up inside him each time they met up, having to gather up courage to face her. To top it all off, the guilt only grew larger till it became a huge monster the moment he realised that he was falling for her.

For the end of our semester, we had to do a project. And unfortunately for me, or maybe not, it was a group project. After class ended, I was about to sprint up to Jeno, who was sitting at the very front today to be more attentive about the briefing for the project, every single girl in the hall went up and surrounded him as if they were swallowing him whole.

“Let me be your partner, Jeno!” “I’ll do the project well with you!” “I’m your best bet to scoring!”

I almost had a migraine constantly hearing their shrieks and screaming of the girls trying to get Jeno’s attention. Meanwhile, he forced a smile on his face, it was obvious that he was being suffocated and was desperate to teleport himself out of the hall. I couldn’t help but let out a subtle giggle, watching him suffer as I felt the energy of his blood boiling like hot air could burst from his ear any moment, but he was able to keep a neutral face the whole time. He knew how to manage his anger.

I watched the chaos, sighing to myself in a somewhat satisfactory manner. Jeno pushed through the crowd, trying his hardest to squeeze his way through. He turned around and lifted both his hands up in the air like he was being arrested. All the girls grew silent instantly at his action. “Sorry but I’m doing this myself.” Jeno declared out loud. He made eye contact with me, causing me to lean back and pointing a finger to myself to check if he was actually motioning at me. He jerked his head to the door, signaling me to exit.

Jeno walked out and the silence among the group of girls suddenly became inaudible murmurs and whispering their heads off. I clicked my tongue, floating like a balloon out of the lecture hall after.

“Everyone’s so desperate for you.” I said when I caught up to Jeno who was taking slow steps. “Ut was fun watching you suffer there. I could tell you were about to burst at any second.” I laughed out loud, putting my humour right up Jeno’s face. “Are you working with anyone for the project?” Jeno questioned me.

I kept a straight and boring expression. “Don’t feel like working with anyone.” I gaped my mouth open, a sudden idea popping up as my face slowly turned to a mischievous expression with the smile of the cheshire cat. “Do you perhaps want to-”

“I’m not working with you because I know you well enough to know that you’ll make me do majority of the work. Even if I did work with you, you know me well enough to know that I’ll force you to do your work. Actually that applies to both you wanting and not wanting to work with me-”

“You didn’t even let me finish my sentence!” I growled with exasperation. Jeno’s face softened and turned kind, a look I rarely see on him. “Oh then what is it?” I kept silent for a moment. “want to work with me for the project...?” I uttered, it was barely audible. Jeno breathed out a chuckle. “Nice try. I’ll be supervising to make sure you’re on task anyways. It’s a shame I have to deal with your ass almost everyday.” I puckered my lips in question, eyebrows furrowed till it knitted together. “Why do you have to take care of me? Like why was I any of your business in the first place?”

Jeno kept a straight face, sudden anxiousness triggered in him as she asked the question. He wished he could tell her everything, but he knew far too well the consequences if it, and jeopardizing whatever relationship they had would never be an option. “Because I’m the president? I have to take care of new students, you know.” I questioning face grew back to my bored one, puffing my cheeks and blowing the air out, flippantly. “Whatever.” I replied quickly as we went our separate ways after making a decision to meet someday at the student council’s office to start on our project.

Weeks past, and though I dreaded doing the project in the first place, I was shocked at how much I completed. However, with Jeno being extremely particular about my work so that I’d do well, I had to write up a proposal on my overall project for him. On a Saturday night. I didn’t know what came over me, but I had the feeling of wanting to get drunk. The work I did for the past weeks had led to me having constant mental breakdown, whining to myself just when could I get my break. And again, with Jeno having an invisible knife to my throat to make sure I did my work, break time seemed to never be in my to-do list.

I took a trip back home to steal a bottle of wine. Back at the dorm, I looked at the time. It was too early to get drunk, but I barely cared about that at all, opening the wine bottle and pouring it into the one wine glass I had. I didn’t use it to drink wine, but rather other sweet drinks and water for the sole purpose of wanting to feel fancy and have the timiest bit of class in this rundown dorm. I sat at my laptop, the white blank space staring at me while I stared back, slowly bringing the glass up to my lips to take a sip. I gulped it down, sighing in satisfaction. I began to write my proposal, thinking I’d be able to finish and send it to Jeno before I got drunk off the wine. How dumb was I to think my body could even do that?

It was late at night. Jeno in his dorm while trying to fix up and improve bits and pieces of his presentation for thr project. He had completed it long ago to be honest, he just needed to add a few things to turn it up a notch in terms of quality. Suddenly, on the bottom right corner of his screen popped up an email notification from her, the title being “A very well planned out proposal.” Jeno laughed for a moment, finger to his lip with his eyebrows raised. He felt the sarcasm through the words.

Grabbing a hold of his mouse, he brought the cursor over to the notification to open it, which led him to Google Docs where she typed out the proposal. Jeno sat up straight as a way to wake his mind up from the tired night he’s had up till now and began reading. He scanned his eyes over the paragraphs and taking barely seconds to expertly analyse them. It had been good so far, till it got to the last few paragraphs. Jeno noticed how some words had gone distorted, it seemed like she was typing gibberish, typing in a lazy and careless manner. Jeno could make out a few words, but the rest was far from recognisable. Then came the last paragraph, which shocked him the most.

HEsyu njEmo! i fELt dlike assduddely sddayubg thajis bjjfut weoek youyre veiry hot!! losike smkoingf baiiyy i likele yuori a hmklott!!! buit i knbow youre onkly beving kind to nr cauyse touyre onldjyy doiubg yourh jobbv as jhe phresibdrnt :$(((

Jeno squinted his eyes while looking at it. It can’t be what he thought it could be, right? Was he being delusional? Was he making up the meaning of the words to what he hoped to be? Jeno noticed his heart suddenly racing at a rapid pace, eyes reading it over and over again to come up with any other possible meaning behind it to deny his conclusion.

Though, after long thought, Jeno unconsciously had a smile on his face, his head tilting down to the table for a moment before looking up at the screen, his smile pursing his lips together tightly while shaking his head. “Cute.” Jeno whispered, letting out a long sigh before going back to the top of the proposal to add in his comments.

I went to our usual meetup spot. Luckily it was hours into the day, and I had time to recover from my hangover. I shocked myself this morning as I saw the bottle of wine fully empty, down to the last drop. How was I even capable of that? Whatever it was, I didn’t remember a single thing that happened last night. I assured myself that I didn’t do anything stupid since I woke up in bed, as per usual, just with a terrible headache with the room being the same as when I stepped in.

I swung open the door, lazily sliding my bag off my shoulder and to the table, pushing it aside while Jeno had his eyes on his laptop. “How’s my proposal?” Jeno shot his eyes up. “Did you not bother reading over once you were done?” Jeno questioned in a low, intimidating voice as if he could pounce on you at any second.

I sucked in my lips, a sound coming out when I placed my lips back to its normal position as I shook my head slowly with inability to show even the slightest confidence. I couldn’t be arrogant anymore around Jeno. He had a power over me that I never knew anyone could have. “Uh no?” Jeno hummed casually, leaning back into his seat nonchalantly, something about his light attitude making me scared as I began to think over what I had done wrong with my proposal.

“So you didn’t know what you did to it?” Jeno asked again, the interrogation feeling nestled in me as unknown fear piled up in me. I raised my shoulders questionably. “What’s wrong with it?!” I groaned out, tired of having him question me while I worried my ass off. “I added comments to it. Some things I added can help your presentation next week so make sure to go over it.” Jeno rose form his seat, gathering uo everything on the table and placing it in his bag. He casually slug it over one shoulder, walking away. Before he left however, he turned around and said, “Your last paragraph was cute by the way.”

Upon the door being closed, I instantly took out my laptop from my bag frantically, opening up the proposal that had Jeno’s notes on it. I scrolled all the way down till the last paragraph, wanting to faint as the sight of the red words below it and whatever nonsense I had typed out while I was drunk. “Please submit a more professional write up next time. Don’t be stupid to drink while you’re doing work.” I read over his words. I shrieked, the kind that was inaudible as I scrunched my hair up while balling fists into my hair. I shook my body around, embarrassment being the only feeling in my mind at that moment, as well as the rest of the night ahead.

It finally came to presentation day. And as expected, Jeno was chosen to come up first. He set up his slides, turning his head to it to make sure it was being shown clearly before looking back to his audience. His posture was upright and firm, confidence being dominated in him as he began presenting. Sure, I was listening to what he’s been talking about, but I was more so focused on Jeno himself. The way he expertly articulated his movements and words imbued with much passion. It’s as if he’s done it for years, like a high knowledged ornator. There was of course his beauty to admire in the midst of it all as well.

“_____. Why don’t you go?” The professor turned his upper body to me, the students still clapping loudly, and screams mostly coming from the girls while Jeno took his seat. I stood up, making my way down. The hall suddenly got pin drop silent. The whole time I presented, my eyes felt the urge to always glance to Jeno. Though I thought he’d have a serious look on his face, it was more of a soft and gentle one, a look that gave me reassure to push on. It warmed my heart and gave me a confidence boost almost instantly each time I looked to him.

“You did good.” Jeno admitted, a wide smile forming on his lips. I smiled back. “You did way better. I loved yours a lot.” I complimented, I was almost skipping due to how pumped up I felt after class. “Mm do you mean my presentation or me?” Jeno looked down on me and I looked back, eyes widened at his sudden comment. Jeno laughed it off, waving a lazy hand in my face. “Forget I said anything.”

Surprisingly, Jeno agreed to head out to a candy shop to congratulate ourselves for the hardwork we’ve done. And must I say, Jeno completely lit up. He was bright, bubbly, his subtle humor making me like him more and more. I couldn’t shake the face that we were hanging out like this, like we weren’t stuck in a box where Jeno was all stone and harsh on me. He radiated an energy that no one would have thoughg even existed. Turns out I just had to talk to him for it to show. And gummy bears.

Jeno and I were walkign down the same path on our way back. However, Jeno informed me that he had somewhere to be. I didn’t bother asking where, simply letting out a, “Wherever you’re going, don’t be out for too long!” Jeno flashed an eye smile and waved with an adorably low laugh, nodding his head. I walked away, but I noticed how Jeno was simply standing there, as if waiting for someone. He said he needed to go somewhere. Was he taking a cab or something?

I didn’t know why but curious came flooding my mind. I didn’t know how I suddenly got this intrigued by what he does off campus and whatever he’s doing outside of our friendship. As a person who liked him, it wasn’t wrong to be curious, right? Luckily, I wasn’t far off when I walked away so I turned a corner to hid myself there. Jeno waited there for at least fifteen minutes, my legs growing numb from having myself glued to the wall. Just when I wanted to walk away, a person came walking up to him, which he responded with a raise of his hand in greeting. Specifically it was a woman. My eyes almost fell out of their sockets the moment I realised who it was. What was my mother doing with Jeno?

I leaned in, my ear hoping to pick up every single word and my eyes looking at their every action. “A bonus. You’ve been doing well. You’re exceptional indeed.” My mother held out a large bag that looked extremely heavy. Jeno had one hand in his pocket, using his free hand to take it. He tilted his head down. “What’s with the physical cash? You always did online transfers.” Cash? Online transfers? What were they doing? Billions of questions flashed in my mind, I couldn’t be hearing this correctly. Were they dealing on something? Underground business I know nothing about?

“I’m suprised you’re able to hold her down for a time longer than I have seen her stay in one school. Whatever did you do to have her tamed?” Jeno chuckled, glancing down to the feet before meeting my mother’s eyes again. “Asserted dominance. Simple. Though I’ve always been like that, just needed to step up a little and showed her who’s boss.” Jeno folded his arm, shoulders relaxed and talking far too casually.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Who else could they be talking about but me? Was Jeno being paid to be with me? Is that why he’s been giving me so much attention, so much care all this time. It was all for money... He did it for the money. “Also, I’ve confirmed a spot for you in the University. Just like you wanted.” My mother said. I saw how Jeno flashed a smile. My anger was boiling my blood to the highest of temperatures to even analyse and dig deeper into his actions. All I cared about was the fact that everything was a lie. From the moment I met him. It was all a show.

We were at the park, cold wind brushing against our exposed skin as the night gets itself comfortable, the stars beginning to shine and twinkle over the black canvas of the sky. I looked down from it, looking to Jeno who had his head cozily on my lap. I brushed my fingers through his hair gently, an action I’ve been doing for hours now.

Our relationship didn’t have a definite label on it. We didn’t know who we were. We let the waters flow, taking us to whichever direction it wanted. It just so happened that our feelings for each other sprouted naturally to the point where we didn’t have to say it out loud. Gradual actions of affection began and we simply liked that what we had was unsaid. It was easy, no trouble, no harm whatsoever.

“Jeno.” I whispered. Jeno fluttered his eyes open. He told me how he couldn’t help but fall asleep at my touch. “What would you do if I disappeared the next day?” I questioned, trying my hardest to make it less vague then it already was, though it failed, Jeno giving a look quizzically. “I’d be too sad to even function.” Jeno replied after a long pause of silence. And at the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but think Is what you’re saying even true? I kept questioning myself about his every action, every sign of love and care he showed. What happened that day months ago was still as clear as day in my memory, which only made me doubt Jeno’s feelings for me everyday.

“Would you really?” I asked again, this time looking at him right in his eyes, prying myself into his heart and soul through them to find that slither of truth glistening under. Jeno pouted, blinking his eyes like a lost puppy. “Of course. Why would you even ask that in the first place?” I mentally replied though I gave him silence as a response, “Because I’ll be leaving your fake ass soon.”

I rummaged through the cards in my parent’s room, finding desperately for a credit card I could use. After retrieving one, I went to my room, taking out a suitcase from under my bed and immediately started packing. I shoved everything I could think of bringing off the top of my head. If I didn’t have something, I could simply buy it at London. All I wanted was to get out of this country. Out of this life, out of Jeno’s life. I couldn’t stand bring treated like some object in a deal of responsibility.

I made my way to the airport in a cab. While I was on the road, I called the only person I knew who lived in London. “Taeyong, I’m moving to London. Free up your apartment because I’ll staying with you.” “Wait what? Hey-” I ended the call before he could even finish. I looked out the window. No regrets, no guilt was holding down my heart. It felt weird at first. But now I knew that the reason why I felt this way was because of the fact I had given Jeno all my love. Whether his was fake or not, I’ve given my whole share of the relationship.

Jeno was laying on his bed when the woman’s number suddenly popped up on his phone screen. Curious at the sudden call, he instantly picked it up. “What?” He asked in an unintentionally rude manner. “_____. She’s going to the airport. Our maid just informed us. I don’t know where she’s going, but please stop her.” She sounded frantic, anxious. Jeno instantly sprung up from his bed and rushed out his dorm, planning to steal Ten’s motorbike to rush his way to the airport.

Jeno got off the motorbike after speeding through so many cars and having the constant urge to go over the speed limit just so he could reach there faster. He didn’t knew where she was, but he was determined to find her. And most of all, hoped that she has yet to fly.

Jeno kept his eyes wide open, scanning through the large area constantly as he tried to find where she was. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. It was all to sudden. Why did she decide to go abroad without letting him know? Of all people but him? He understood if she didn’t inform her parents, but Jeno was the only person she said she trusted the most. She couldn’t be leaving out of nowhere. It took him seconds to spot her in the busy area. He ran up to her, seeing how she had a large luggage on her side while she leaned against it casually and having her passport in her hand. “_____! Where are you going?!” Jeno shouted, gripping her wrist and turning her around.

I flinched at the sudden contact, hearing Jeno’s voice right behind me and he spun me around to face him. How did he even know I was here? Ah of course, my mother somehow knew though I wanted to make my leave as discreet as possible. I removed myself out of Jeno’s grasp, wincing at how tight he was holding my wrist. “You don’t need to know where.” I simply answered, but he shook his head furiously. “Tell me why!” Jeno pleaded. I saw the look in his eyes, the look of fear and pain while he got a hold of my wrist again. I let go. “Is my mother going to pay you more if you stopped me from leaving?”

I walked past him, seeing the time to board my flight blinking and signaling the people to get moving. I turned around after walking a far distance, flicking up my passport and tilting my head. I noticed how Jeno wanted to move, take a step towards me but had something in him that held him back, like he was unwillingly rooted to the ground. From a far distance I could tell Jeno’s pupils dilated at the sight of me taking steps back and growing smaller out of his view.

“Ciao.” I mouthed before turning away relentlessly There’s no turning back, was all i thought. With the money I had, I could go anywhere in the world as I pleased, anywhere that would get me away from this place and the person who broke my heart. I did say I didn’t feel anything, but as I went to board the plane, not bothering to turn back and take one last look at Jeno, the tears came out without a second thought. I tried my hardest to keep myself together. But right when we took flight, it came to my senses of what I was doing.

It took awhile to realise that she was gone, with Jeno being in a trance while she left. She was out of his sight, and he’ll never know for how long. After the day she went, Jeno was broken. So broken, that he couldn’t do anything. He holed himself in his room for days on end, not having a single energy to lift himself out of bed. He knew it from the start, this situation being inevitable. He didn’t think that she would mean this much to him the moment he accepted the deal. He kept telling himself that it wasn’t his fault, that he didn’t expect their relationship to grow and mean so much. But he couldn’t believe himself, denying it everytime he thought about it.

“For how long are you going to keep talking to me about this?”

Taeyong ran a frustrated hand through his hair, my eyes boring at him as he paced back and forth in front of me in the living room. I couldn’t help but wonder just how long he wanted to keep this up.

“Two years. Two damn years you’ve been staying here in London.” He turned a sharp ninty degrees to face me, his body leaning forward slightly. “Don’t get me wrong I like that you’re here but you have a whole life that you left behind. On an impromptu decision might I add.” I stared at him blankly, showing my careless attitude by sinking into the couch and folding my arms with placing one leg over the other. “I don’t care. I’m living well here so I don’t see why I have to go back.”

“You told me about Jeno. Do you not miss him at all?” That question got me to look down as it sunk into my mind, thoughts about it began to surface. Taeyong probably noticed the thoughtful look on my face, adding on with, “Think about it. He made that simple deal at first without knowing his relationship with you would expand so much more from when it first started. Did you not bother to think about what went through his mind when you left so unexpectedly? From what you told me, he certainly loves you. Not sure if he still does though, being real here.” Taeyong shrugged flippantly, not giving a care to shoot his words right at my heart and being real with me.

“But he didn’t stop the deal even when he developed feelings for me. What does that show?” Though I retorted back, I felt it. Taeyong’s words that I mulled over firing at me, even with the bulletproof vest that I had on for the two years, the bullets went right through them, shooting me dead as I bleed and thought about all the memories I had with Jeno. It only now occured to me that I truly did miss him, I was simply pretending I didn’t and tried living my best life here in London, wanting to push away the fact that I’ve never had a better life than back there with Jeno. “You have to go back someday, _____.” Taeyong sat down next to me, placing a firm hand on my shoulder. “And talk to Jeno.”

I couldn’t believe that I was back here. It felt weird, somewhat out of place. But I also belonged here. Everything washed over me and crashed like a huge wave. I had always wished that I didn’t need to come back, but my heart was slowly growing its need for it, its need for Jeno, though I had been strong for the first few months away.

I gulped my nervousness down my throat, standing in front of what I assumed to be Jeno’s apartment since my mother was so kind to inform me where he lived after giving me an earful of leaving for two years and never informing me where. Weird how they never forced me back. I knew they were capable of it with their connections here in London. I guess they never bothered to reach out and find me.

I rang the doorbell, my heart slowly increasing its pace as it thumbed against my ribcage, begging to burst out. I took in deep breaths, waiting patiently while I hoped for Jeno to be at the other side. After about close to a minute, the door creaked open, Jeno was standing in front of me. I forced myself to look him in the eyes as I inspected him. He didn’t change at all. Surprisingly, the hair colour was kept the same. The light blue that made me remember the first time he walked into class with it, capturing all the light and attention of the hall. He still had that figure of someone who worked out often, a nice physique. I didn’t take me long to notice that physically, nothing has changed.

“Um, I know this is unexpected. I’m sorry for leaving unexpectedly. I’m sorry for leaving without giving you any explanation whatsoever. I’m sorry-” I wanted to continue, wanting to let it all out right then and there till Jeno pulled me into a hug by the waist, bringing both hands up to wrap them tightly around my shoulder, his head digging into the crook of my neck as I felt him inhale against my skin, his breath brushing over it after. It took me awhile to process, gradually bringing my arms up to hug his torso, pulling ourselved closer and letting ourselves fall into each other’s embrace.

“Please, let me talk.” Jeno whispered to me. He kept a long silence after, allowing us to admire this moment. Perhaps he couldn’t believe that I was here, the fact that I left and came up unexpectedly, out of the blue. I felt the mixed emotions in his words. “I’m sorry for making that deal with your mother. I thought it was something I’d do for the sake of the money. I know you felt hurt at the fact that I did it behind your back. But I did it for you. I took care of you for your own good. I kept receiving the money, but it slowly grew meaningless when I began to like you.” Jeno rubbed his nose against my neck, though it felt ticklish, I kept my calm, wanting to focus on his words.

I pulled away, my hands still around his torso but allowing a gap between our bodies. I looked up to him, a frown forming on my face. The tears became to well up upon the sudden emotional roller coaster ride. My eyes trailed from his eyes, and gradually down to his lips after looking at every inch of his face, admiring them greatly as I began to remember why I fell for him in the first place. With or without the money, my feelings for him had never changed, no matter how buried deep into my heart they were.

“I never said this before... And I’m sorry for telling you now...” I reached up to meet his face, having to tiptoe my way up. Jeno giggled softly at my action, dipping his head down to save me from his struggle. I pouted, flicking my eyes from his one eye to the other. I then moved to his lips, smooth and glossy. It was obvious he wore chapstick.

“But I love you, Lee Jeno. I didn’t feel the need to say it back then, we were simply showing it with our affections. But I really do love you. It’s a bit too late to say it so I’m sorry. If you’ve ever lost feeling for me even the slightest bit. But I promise my love is still true and pure, no matter what you did.” I quietly whisper, my face so close to him that my lips were hovering over his, just barely touching and urging our lips to connect.

Just like that, our lips touched, a kiss was made. His lips fit perfectly to mine, like the world made it that way. Suddenly, everything came into focus. The invisible stars aligned. Everything felt so right, so perfect, with him holding me close. Jeno began to kiss me, as slow as ever and with much care and love. We closed our eyes, as if never wanting to leave this. I didn’t know how long we were standing there, lips never wanting to part. But sooner or later we did, me having to pull away first.

“My love for you never changed either. I waited, and I missed you too much to forget what we had.” Jeno breathed out, his chest going up and down against mine as he breathed heavily. I giggled, looking down in embarrassment as my cheeks to began to blush an obvious pink. “That was our first kiss.”

Jeno arched a brow quizzically. “Was it? It felt like we’ve been doing it forever.”

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slytherinnbitch · 3 years

Text

Day 7: Proposal

Since this marks one week, this is going to be extra long!

"Goodbye love," Draco says as he leaves Grimmauld Place a little late.

Harry was dressing when he left him in the room, he casts a tempus charm just outside the door. It's almost noon, Salazar knew why Harry didn't even bat an eyelid at his late morning.

He apparates to the Maya Magal in London, it's apparantly the best place to get engagement rings and both Pansy and Hermione vouch for it.

A handsomely dressed woman, probably Draco's age, greets him at the door and takes him inside.

"What would you be looking for today, sir?" she asks politely.

"Engagement rings, thank you."

"Do you have any choice or maybe a reference picture?"

"No, just something light and simple would do. He doesn't like heavy jewels or jewels for that matter." Draco says, belatedly realising that he used the masculine pronoun instead of the neutral one, Hermione had told him that Muggles didn't always see eye to eye with same gender relationships like Wizards and Witched did.

But the lady doesn't even hesitate before giving him a smile and leading him towards the middle of the store. She starts showing him a myriad of rings- all of them elegant and classy with intricate designs but nothing that would suit Harry.

After almost four hours of looking at almost each and every ring in the shop, he picks a simple band which a mixture of platinum and gold with tiny diamonds adorning it's edges. He immediately knows that this is it.

The lady smiles at him again, not a single sign in her face saying that she is frustrated or annoyed that Draco took such a long time.

"Would you like to engrave something on the inside?"

"Yes sure." Draco replies, he instantly knows what he wants. In the end, the lady- Lara tells him to come back in two hours for the ring to be ready and he thanks her and gets going.

A tempus charm shows him that he has about three hours to get home before Harry starts to suspect anything and that's plenty of time. He apparates to the cementry in Godric's hollow.

"Hello," he greets James and Lily as he sits down beside their grave on the ground, "So I wanted to ask you for Harry's hand. I know it's an ancient practice and well, you are dead but I want to do this right. I was raised this way and I'm rambling."

He takes a moment conjure some flowers before he starts talking again, "So I want to marry your son. Why should he marry me? I don't know that. Merlin, I don't even know why he loves me. Me, who is an angry arsehole to everyone and who never smiles. Weasley's definition not mine, just so you know. I can tell you why I love him though? Maybe that will be enough to convince you both. Harry, he has always been my guiding star. I don't know how but even in school when we were at each other's throats, he had been someone constant, someone always there. No matter in what way, just there. And afterwards, the war where well you know things happened and I was so bloody naive but he was there as well. He had been my only hope back then, that Harry might be able to save all of his from the doom which was Vol-voldemort. And he did, he even initiated the house unity in Eighth year and then we got seperated because of our careers and look at us now. Both working at the Ministry and even our departments are connected, somewhat. I'm an Unspeakable, you see. You would know that Harry is Head Auror but not about me. I don't know when that star, that hope became my everything. Slowly, but consistently. We grew closer and I can't imagine a day without him anymore. At the end of the day, I need to be around him else I can't fall asleep.

It's been almost twelve years since the war but some scars remain. I'm really hoping that you would look past those and forgive me and accept me as your son's husband-if he says yes that is. Maybe this is all in vain, Harry might just say no and that will be that. But I'm trying not to focus on the negatives right now. Thank you for your sacrifices and thank you so much for giving this world such a kind hearted, selfless person. Thank you for my Harry." He finishes at last, his eyes are slightly tinging but that's alright. No one's here to see him like this anyways.

He talks to them somemore, about everything about him and Harry and how much he loves him and how he would never let Harry feel like he did throughout his childhood and how he plans on proposing Harry on the anniversary of their tenth year together.

Its about 6pm when he leaves the graveyard and goes to pick up the ring.

.........

As soon as Harry hears Draco call out his goodbye, he takes out his notepad from under the socks in the drawer and checks everything he needs to do in order for everything to be perfect tomorrow.

Pick up ring

Ask the parents

Check in with Hermione and Pansy

Order the flowers

He makes goes to the Wizarding Jewelry Place first and asks for the ring.

"Yes, Mr. Potter. The ring is ready and just how you asked it to be. I'll bring it right out," the old man says, who Harry got to know was the owner of the shop from Pansy.

He comes out after several moments and in his hands is a small jewelry box, with intricate golden work over the black satin. The man opens the box and shows Harry the ring, it's perfect with its platinum and gold band and a heavy diamond in the middle of it, he checks the inside and yes, the inscription is just how he had wanted it to be.

He thanks the man and hurries to Wiltshire after making his payment.

He apparates just outside of the Manor gates, after all these years it's fairly easy to enter. The Manor has transformed drastically, and Narcissa and surprisingly, Lucius's warm welcome behaviour had helped immensely.

He had been shocked when he met Lucius as Draco's boyfriend for the first time since the war, it had been after two years of dating Draco and he had been invited over. Gone was the bigoted, slimy bastard he knew, this Lucius was still as much of an arsehole but not the same one. They were not friendly exactly, but he liked to think that he and Lucius got along nowadays. Well it's almost been eight years so he guessed with time anything was possible.

The gates opens to him without any sort of hindrance. Just as he was going to knock on the door, Mipsy opens it and pokes her head out.

"Mipsy is here to greet Harry Potter. Who does Harry Potter like to meet? Master Draco isn't here today."

"Yes, Mipsy I'm aware that Draco isn't here. I'm here to meet Lucius and Narcissa actually." He explains, Mipsy nods her head and vanishes with a small pop, only to return twenty seconds later, and asking Harry to follow her to the parlor.

"Harry, dear. What do we owe this pleasure to?" Narcissa asks as he enters the room.

"Sure you haven't lost your way here? Draco doesn't live here any longer." Lucius says at the same time.

"Yes, Lucius I haven't lost my way and I know Draco doesn't live here any longer, since you know, he lives with me now," he retorts back- Merlin it's weird enough calling Lucius by his name in his head, it's weirder when he says it out loud. "I actually wanted to ask for something."

"See Cissa, I told you he had ulterior motives after all," Lucius says as he looks over Harry suspiciously.

"Oh Lucius, why don't we hear out the young man before you start with all your nonsense." Narcissa says and she waves her hand towards Harry in a way to tell him to continue.

"I want to ask for Draco's hand in marriage." Harry blurts out, the silence that follows is deafening. He looks from Malfoy to the other, both of them seem to be in an intense conversation which is being spoken through their eyes.

It's Lucius who breaks the silence at last, "Why do you want to marry our son? Why should we allow you?"

"Because I love him, I know it can't be as simple as that but that's the gist of it. I love your son with my whole being. I can't imagine a day where I can't see his face or without his insults which have somehow become a constant as well. I tried to find the many reasons for which I should deserve to marry him, I can't find one. But I want to, I want to be deserved enough to marry Draco Malfoy. I want to make him happy for the rest of his life and I want to do this right for once, that's why here I'm asking permission for his hand because even though it doesn't matter nowadays. Draco loves tradition and for him, this is of great significance and I want everything to be right this time." Harry finishes and when he looks over at them, because he had said most of that looking at the carpet, Narcissa's eyes a bit glassy and Lucius who never shows emotion, is actually beaming at him.

"Very well then, Harry. You have both our permission to marry our son and we both would be honoured to welcome you into the Malfoy family. I...I might have been wrong about you afterall." Lucius says and coming from him it's high praise. He is glad both of them and he tells them so and both of them smile fondly at him. They make him stay for tea and afterwards wishes him luck as he floos to Diagon Alley to meet Hermione and Pansy at the new cafe.

"So you got the parents blessings then?" Pansy asks as she takes a sip of her firewhiskey mixed coffee.

"Yup"

"And you have the ring?" Hermione questions as she sets down her wine glass. Seriously is this a cafe or a pub?

"Right here!" He shows them the ring and they coo over it for a minute. "Is this place even a cafe or is that just for the name?"

"It's a cafe and bar, of sorts. They provide a mixture of normal drinks but add alcohol to it. You should try the vodka and peach drink. It's absolutely perfect." Pansy answers as she calls over a waiter.

"No thank you, Pans. I have to go back to my boyfriend who shouldn't even suspect that I have been anywhere but work today. Do you have anything non-alcoholic?" He directs the last question to the waiter who has come.

"Yes, right about everything can be non-alcoholic or purely alcoholic as well. The mixtures are just out speciality."

"Oh then....you know what give me a vodka and peach drink. I deserve it after spending an entire afternoon with two Malfoys." Harry says. The waiter suppresses his amusement and goes to get his order.

Pansy and Hermione snicker at him, "Oh shut it. As if you both wouldn't do the exact same."

They are still chuckling as he discusses the details of the date he had set up for tomorrow. Nowhere public because neither of them liked that, so instead he had picked up a picnic spot for tomorrow night. It would be great fun to propose in the middle of night with only the moons and stars providing them light.

Pansy and Hermione were incharge of setting everything up and they would also be telling Draco that it was a joint anniversary gift to them and they had informed Harry as well. It was the perfect ploy and no one would suspect a thing.

"Alright, the two of you. Enjoy your night, go home safely. I need to get going if I want to make it home before him." Harry says as he gets up and kisses both their cheeks one by one.

"Ron and Blaise will be here shortly so you need not worry about it, darling. We'll be alright on our own till then." Hermione says back and Pansy adds,"Draco never comes home early so you needn't worry about it."

Seriously these two are in so much sync that it terrifies him at times.

He steps out of the cafe and on a impromptu decision apparates to Godric's hollow instead.

...

Draco apparates directly inside the Manor Gates after picking up the ring.

Tabota greets him and tells him that his parents are in the third floor parlor. He makes his way quickly-he doesn't have much time left, he needs to be quick now.

"Hello, love. What a pleasant surprise!" Mother says as he enters.

"Hello Mother," he says and then nods towards his father, "Father,"

"Actually I'm in a bit of a hurry right now. I wanted the Malfoy signet ring." Draco says, getting to the point quickly.

"But I can see you wearing yours, son." Father says.

"Yes I know. I'm- I'm proposing Harry tomorrow." He announces and he is confused by their identical expressions of surprise and then repressed mirth. He didn't except that.

"Is that so?" Father says as he tilts his head, "Very well then, I'll go get it." He leaves the room and Draco is left with his Mother.

"I'm so happy for you, my darling." She says as she comes closer and hugs him.

"Well, I hope he says yes, else..." Draco replies as he hugs her back.

"Oh I'm sure he won't." Father replies as he enters the room. That was surprisingly quick.

"Here you go, son. I'm sure Harry would be quite delighted." He hands Draco the ring and engulfs him in a rare hug as well. Draco can't believe it, his parents approve. Not that he didn't know that, but it's different to know that so explicitly.

"Thank you. I need to get going now. Goodbye." Draco says, his parents murmur their byes and he apparates directly to Grimmauld Place.

Harry's yet to be home, so he decides to hide his ring and take a long bath.

Tomorrow is going to be perfect!

@cupofsquirrelfan hope you like this!

Day 6: Braid || Day 8: Tattoo

Part 2 and Part 3 of Proposal

Requests open || Let me know if you want a part 2 of this

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qslovebot · 3 years

Text

Heroes: Spencer Reid

Request: cooould i request a spencer reid x reader where the reader and Spencer are on a car ride? it could be that they are on a case and they have to drive (maybe the jet is broken? or something idk) and it's sunset, they spill feelings and so much fluff? 'With Heroes by David Bowie'

rb: @ellyhotchner

Pairing: Spencer x Fem! Reader

Warnings/Includes: mentions of Spencer's gunshot wound, kissing, fluff.

Spencer Reid chuckled as he crutched toward the SUV parked in the lot. He was a little too fast on crutches for a man who had been shot in the leg. It was a little while since he'd been let back to work and he stupidly lied about being allowed to travel so now, the way for lesser trouble was to have him drive back with another agent and Hotch assigned the dreadful task to you. "Could I at least drive?"

You shook your head as you caught up, "Flex your foot, Reid." He paused, putting his foot out and flexing it. With an immediate intake of breath and wince of pain, you shook your head again. "I will drive."

"Fine," he sighed, tossing you the keys. He paused again sheepishly at his door. "W-would you mind helping me into the car?"

"Yeah, of course, I'm sorry-" you pressed the unlock button and walked to the other side of the car with haste, taking Spencer's crutches and standing still so he could use your arm to stabilize him as he climbed in.

His thin fingers lingered on your upper arm for a second and he blinked a few times before looking up at you through his hair. "Can I choose the music?" He asked it as if it was the most serious question in the world. But he knew what was coming,

"Hell no!" You bat his hands away and darted to the other side whilst Spencer tried to beat you to the radio. He was already in the car, so of course, he beat you to it, but you jumped into the driver's seat and bat his hands away again. "Damn it, Spencer. I won't sit through another four-hour drive of nothing but Simon and Garfunkel!"

"I don't want Simon and Garfunkel!" He protested, his eyes wide. You couldn't stare him down without your heart racing, so you waved your hand in dismissal, starting the car as he fidgeted with the sound system.

Pulling out of the dank, dark of the precinct parking lot, both of you had to shield your eyes from the sun. Staying inside an interrogation room all day, you two were hardly aware it was even day. You checked the car's clock- it was nearing six o'clock.

Late spring, the days were getting longer. Shielding your eyes with the visor, you pulled onto the road. Spencer clicked a button and music began to play. You looked at him, mock-anger in your eyes and hit him in the shoulder, "This is Simon and Garfunkel!"

"Be nice, I was shot!" His voice climbed in pitch. Your hand shot forward and Spencer was faster, so he caught your hand before you could even touch the radio. His hand was cold as ice and his palms were soft. Spencer wouldn't hurt you, so the most he could do would be to stop you from acting. Your heart skipped a beat and the car swerved the slightest bit. His voice was higher now, "Eyes on the road!"

He was lucky he was so gorgeous, it saved him from a lot, but you'd never tell him that. He'd probably use it to his advantage and you had never been good with romantic feelings, so it was best you treated him with... friendly hatred. There was a thin line between working well together and working too well together so you used your friendly hatred to try and hide from the team... maybe a little... well, they're all profilers- it was for peace of mind.

So you let him have his Simon and Garfunkel, but only until you made it to the highway and you moved fast enough to get to the radio.

"-Playing you the top 80s hits all day, every day," the radioman said before the song kicked in. You laughed at Spencer who looked like he just entered hell.

"We grew up in the 80s, don't tell me you don't like 80s music!" You gasped, turning your head back to the road. "Spencer..."

"Actually, studies say the music you listened to in high school is the music you're supposed to like for the rest of your life, meaning for us two, the mid to late nineties."

You nodded, then glanced over again, "But didn't you graduate high school at twelve, boy genius? That would be... 1993?" You recounted his years at school and then your own shortened experiences.

Spencer shook his head, "It's-it's the time period of a typical person's high school years. From when we were... uh- fourteen to about seventeen for us, even with accelerated minds. I listened to Simon and Garfunkel and you were... stuck in the 80s?"

"Probably," you laughed, turning up the music as you continued down the freeway. The sun continued to shine, going from soft natural light and eventually sliding into a deeper shade of orange.

It had already been an hour and a half on the road and you had your hand out the SUV window while the sweet wind blew the left edge of your hair in boundless spirals. Spencer had just finished a long, educational rant about the production of record disks, which you already knew about, but listened anyway. You loved how excited he got to tell you things, his hands flailing about, gesturing to demonstrate ideas and thoughts.

Looking over, he seemed to enjoy feeling the air on his skin and wind in his hair. So you decided to drive onto one of the side roads, surrounded by dusty hills and rising dunes for twenty minutes more, letting him relax without worrying about his head being taken off by a semi. He deserved it, after all, he risked things to come out here.

It was finally your turn to put on the radio and you caught the radioman doing his little talking blurb, this time discussing the topic of summer cottages before the song kicked in.

Heroes by David Bowie. You gasped, "Oh my god, I haven't heard this in ages!" Spencer looked over and smiled a little, ruffling his hair. You didn't notice that smile of his, you were busy going absolutely ballistic over this song that meant so much to you. The song always made you feel oddly limitless and free. You didn't regard his constant admiration for you in the moments when you weren't looking.

You had turned up the music and let your hand out the window do the dancing you couldn't in the car. This song was powerful, beautiful, and your focus was balanced between music and road, not on Spencer, who seemed to be sinking into the beauty of the song as well as the beauty of you.

He always admired your liveliness. You brought out the less analytical, fun, youthful side to him and he really did need that sometimes. Watching you drive, hair blowing, he remembered the lyrics to the song. They may have been locked up in his mind somewhere, but he knew them and watching you enjoy the music so freely, he tapped the window's edge and mumbled along.

You didn't really care about much in those moments, because when you looked over and saw Spencer knew the lyrics, something about that made your heart flutter. The music, the lighting, him. You.

The view out the window was magnificent. Red sand, a dipping ravine and you were overtop of it all. Everything about these moments continued to get better, so you decided to pull over. Just for a minute.

"What are you-" Spencer started, but looking out the window he saw just what you did. You put the car into park, but kept it on, turning up the radio and hopping out. Spencer was able to get out of the car himself and crutched over to where you stood against the SUV door.

♬ We could be heroes, just for one day ♬

Oh, it was so gorgeous you could stay here forever and not need anything else, ever. That was until you turned to Spencer, admiring how he looked on this abandoned roadway, standing in the golden light, shadows cast perfectly over his face. You smiled up at him, time seemingly slowing for all of this to happen. It was an odd notion that the world continued to move when it was just you, him, and David Bowie blasting loudly on the radio.

He was thinking the same thing as he watched the way you shut your eyes for a moment, taking it all in. You didn't want to shut your eyes in fear maybe all of this would disappear. The dream-like lighting and Spencer, looking as if he was sculpted by the most talented artists, just seemed too perfect to really exist there with you.

But you needed to pull it together just for a moment, just to make it seem like you were still there with him, because if you stared too long, maybe you would accidentally fall into said dream.

"Not many views like these in Quantico," you turned to face him and he looked down at you before turning to face you as well. His hands were on his crutches but they looked like they begged to be in his pockets so he could rock on his heels. "It's so beautiful."

"You'r-" he coughed and cleared his throat, brows furrowing as his head turned back to off the ravine. Was he about to- no, you were kidding yourself? There was no way, it was the Bowie. "It is beautiful. E-especially with the lighting."

You nodded, "Mhm. I didn't know you knew any Bowie."

"It was actually Bowie's 12th studio album, released on October 14th, 1977, the only album in the Berlin Trilogy that was actually recorded in Berlin. I... read and listened." He scrunched his nose, probably afraid you wouldn't like him ranting, but you always listened.

You cringed, "I may have already known that."

"Oh, sorr-" he cut himself off when you smiled at him. There was something about this song that made him want to tell you everything he'd ever thought about you from the moment you'd met. Something about the lighting that made you so much more enticing and entirely beautiful. Of course, he already thought you were the most gorgeous person in the world, but right now, you were glowing.

And you were thinking the exact same thing. He was standing less than two feet from you, looking down at you. Tall, beautiful, glowing. He was silent, as were you, but Bowie sang loudly to cover the sound of both of your beating hearts. Your smile faded, but it showed in your eyes.

Spencer looked at his feet while the song took over and he tucked your hair behind your ear without hesitating. You bit the inside of your cheek as he reverted back to where he stood, his straight-lipped smile kind and genuine. His eyelashes fluttered from your eyes to your lips and he was standing there. The feelings were unspoken, but all the same, mutually understood.

So you went to kiss him. It was all you could do and it was all he was wanting, but there was a shooting pain that shot up his leg like fire as he took the step forward, pulled by your hand on his shirt.

"Shit! Ow- my... hm... my leg-" He hissed in pain and you immediately let go. So much for that buildup. You would have kicked yourself mentally if it didn't already look like Spencer had been kicked by ten muscular men on leg day.

You covered your mouth with one hand and gripped his elbow with the other, "Spencer, I am so sorry, I don't know what I was thinking- all of it completely slipped my mind and I am... God, I'm so sorry, can I help?" You launched into random rambling, your heart racing.

Spencer reached up to your shoulder for stability and his head bowed to rest on your other shoulder for a half-second. You let him stabilize himself because he was in pain, but that wasn't his intent. Not a tick more later, his hand moved an inch up higher on your shoulder, then moved to the place between neck and shoulder. His hand continued travelling upward until it was on your cheek.

Taking you much by surprise, as you thought you caused him more pain than he was really in, he pressed his lips to yours as the last chorus hit. He finished what you had failed to properly start and there was no longer any more shame in that mess. His right crutch clattered to the ground and he didn't seem to care at all. His hands held your face firmly as your hand went right back to clutching his shirt, keeping him close as you kissed him back with the same passion.

Golden light, David Bowie, a gorgeous view, an abandoned road, and each other. You may have pinched yourself to check if maybe this was a dream, but it wasn't. Spencer wouldn't stop laughing when the kiss ended- that breathy, happy laugh you always admired. You weren't sure why until he held out his wrist to show you that he had pinched himself as well and you both burst out laughing a little harder than you should have. If this was how the world ended, you would end it in the best possible way, entirely content. But this was far from the end of anything, in fact, it was only the beginning of a whole lot of BAU teasing once they got a hold of the happenings of this road trip.

You gave Spencer a knowing look, scrunching your nose and he was thinking the same thing again.

"Maybe we'll lie to them for a bit?" You suggested, cringing again with a slight smile.

He nodded comprehensively, fighting a returning smile. "Keep this as far from Derek Morgan's hands as possible." He tucked your hair behind your ear again and finally grinned at you before picking up his crutch and letting you help him back into the SUV.

He got to the radio before you did and you gasped in near disbelief. "Spencer, no Simon and Garfunkel!"

Request Here

Tags: @mercy-burning, @laurakirsten0502, @softhairedhotch

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unholyplumpprincess · 3 years

Text

Did You Just Bite Me?!

For @shortythescreen !

(Older content)

Summary: In which Pennywise asks (read: demands) your attention in exchange to not make goldfish crackers out of your little sibling, and wants to play a little more than board games with you.

Reblogs > Likes! Please Reblog if you hit Like! :D

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked!!!

Fandom: It

Relationship: Pennywise/Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Blood, biting, grinding/dry humping, nothing really explicit here but it’s hella suggestive so? Uh Pennywise is a masochist.

Words: 1.1k

_________________

To be in cahoots with an eldritch demon that feasted on the flesh of children and any flavor of fear, AND lived in the plentiful underground sewers was not an easy life. To be perfectly, perfectly fair, it hadn’t been your idea of ‘on purpose’ to BECOME one of the clown’s “friends” as he put it with saliva drooling down his chin. It had been an accident, a case of ‘my bad’, if you will.

And truly what a ‘my bad’ situation it had been.

Your younger sibling had been complaining about a monster under the bed or in the closet. Not wanting to hurt their feelings and remind them that they were ten and they KNEW monsters weren’t real, you crouched down to their level and smiled at them full of mischief and yelled, “Oh BOY, I SURE hope that if there IS a monster in here that they come have a PARTY in my room! Because this little BRAVE KNIGHT,“ You pause to pinch your sibling’s cheeks affectionately, beaming as they giggle. “-Will kick your butt otherwise!”

Maybe not the most sense-making thinking to say, but it HAD made your sibling laugh and shoo you away. And that should have been it, right? You should have gone to bed, no problems whatsoever, and listened to your music peacefully as you let your mind daydream. Eyes shut, lying on your bed with only the dim lights of your fairy lights to illuminate behind your eyelids.

Except wishing for such simplicity, was something foolish in Derry.

~Rest under the cut~

At some point you had drifted off into lalaland and had been awoken by your headphones being pulled off. At first you had mumbled for your sibling to go away, batting at them in the dark playfully until your fingers brushed silken fabric and a...puffball?

A giggly, goofy laugh had your eyes shooting open and a large hand smacking over your mouth. A gleeful voice follows ruby red lips and a pair of bright baby blues- face painted like...like a clown??? “Aw, I thought you invited me to a party? I LOVE parties! And you wouldn’t want to disappoint the clown, would you?”

His voice drops upon his last sentence, almost a growl, and you’re not sure when you had blacked out with fear or even when the routine of him showing up in your room at night went. But, in the end, your little sibling was out of its teeth! As long as you played his games.

At some point, the games went from scary like tag with a killer clown with him humming cryptic things as he tried to hunt you, or to simple things like you picking a board game. It’s like a switch could be flipped. You weren’t sure what had been going on until he had you pinned one day in an alley on your way home from work, nose tucked into the crook of your neck and snarling about how good you smelled. How you dripped with arousal. How you’d be so scared under him, yes you would-

Apparently flipping him and pinning him to the wall by his neck and snarling back that you weren’t playing these fucking games right now had activated a new frenzy.

Games that were new.

Games like the one you played now.

Hide and seek.

Where if he found you, and oh he would find you he had promised, he got to play a new game. A game he picked and you would play.

You figured, hey, Scrabble wasn’t so bad for the third time in a row.

That isn’t what he meant.

You find that what you thought was lipstick on his cherry red lips does not budge when he forces your mouth to his. You find none of his makeup moves off, but instead you can feel with your tongue at the seam of his lip at the corners that there is a split there. You hardly focus on it when his hands grab your ass, tugging you closer to his hips urgently and you pull back.

A hand wraps around his neck, holding him firmly there. The game was simple enough, though unexpected. ‘Be mean to the clown’ he had gleefully shouted before smashing your lips together. ‘Punish me!’ he’d repeated yet again, and you supposed you could do that.

A snarl works its way from his lips, baring his now sharpened rows of teeth as his eyes bleed to golden. Your fingers trace up his throat, grabbing his jaw harshly and forcing it to the side the second his nails bite into your ass and he’s trying to yank you again. He can do so, easily, but you still put resistance and tense your thighs so he doesn’t get the grind he wants.

“You said this was your game, and I’m playing it. Exactly how you want.” You say calmly, your voice less breathless than you thought it would be. When he opens his mouth, you slap your hand firmly over it, aware of his frenzy of teeth lying just beneath. You briefly feel him nip at your palm, only skimming the sharpness across and missing any puncture. Brat. “And now you think you can try and bite me? That’s not very fair, Penny, I’m being a good sport.”

Your tone makes him growl under you again, a frenzied animal as his hips hump up against you. You feel something wet under you, but pay it no mind. Instead you focus on the pale expanse of his neck when he tries to shake off your hand, giving you a perfect moment to lean down.

The minute your teeth seal over the spot and you bite down, you move your hand from his mouth with great judgement. You feel his hips thrust up into yours, his hands finally making their way into your pants to sink his talons into the softness of your ass as you bite hard enough until you taste blood.

“Did you just BITE me, little thing?!” He all but cries out, his tone breathless and in disbelief. It’s such a funny tone for him that you pull back, sitting up on his hips with a grin across your lips and blood dotting the corner of your mouth.

“You bit me first.” You state as if you were talking about the weather. Watching as his eyes try to come into focus, looking all about your face before finally landing on your lips. One of his hands leaves your body to rest on the spot, face full of confusion, uncharacteristically looking...bashful.

You grin proudly when the gold from his eyes starts to bleed into blue, eyes averting from your face as he murmurs if you’ll do it again.

Atta clown.

#Pennywise #It #Pennywise x Reader #nsft #lemon #princess writing

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redhoodieone · 3 years

Text

Welcome Home

A/N: Hi everyone! This is an old fic that I’m re-posting for those who want to read it. Enjoy!

WARNINGS: Language and Smut.

I knew my family was different the moment I found out my adoptive father was Batman. I was just a ten-year-old girl when I snuck down the stairs at midnight for a drink of water and spotted Batman leaving a trail of blood from his study and calling out for Alfred for help. The moment our eyes locked, Bruce instantly knew that I was clearly aware of his secret. He had also confessed it was him who saved me from a shootout that my parents were involved in and that it was him, as Batman. I felt I owed Bruce my own life for saving me, and I vowed to keep my father’s secret and pray that he would return home safely every night back to me.

It didn’t help that I soon discovered my adoptive older brother Dick Grayson was Robin. Not only did I have to keep his secret as well, but it made it more impossible to not have a crush on him. I mean, Dick has such a charming personality, beautiful baby blue eyes, and a devilish smile that can make any girl crawl on her hands and knees. And that ass…

I later found myself becoming the second Robin once Dick left to assume his own identity, Nightwing. Bruce trusted me, and he saw potential in me the second I told him I couldn’t see myself being a hero forever. Perhaps he never really wanted me to be his sidekick and figured if I got it out of my system that I could resume my life as a sixteen-year-old and do normal teenager activities. As if my life was normal anyways.

But things changed as soon as I was finally embracing myself as a hero. Bruce had taken in a new kid, Jason Todd. He was a troublemaker, a rebel, and a mysterious kid, who had never even spoken to me unless he had to. I don’t think my age helped the situation either; I was a couple of years older than him and he may not have seen me as an equal. But of course, the dark haired, icy blue eyed, bad attitude boy was given the Robin title, and I was removed because of a patrol-gone-wrong situation.

Stupid Harley Quinn and her baseball bat. Who knew one hit to my knee could bench me for two months (Alfred added an additional five months of rest).

Then the unthinkable happened. The second Robin was killed by the Joker. Jason Todd’s death put Bruce into a depression, and he swore he would never put another kid’s life in danger. Our father and daughter relationship broke apart before my very eyes. I spent my remaining teenage years in the mansion isolated, except for Alfred’s loving company.

I had graduated high school on time and I quickly decided to go to Gotham University to escape the Bat family. Before I moved out, I discovered Bruce had taken in another kid, Tim Drake, who was currently the new Robin. Was I hurt? Of course, I felt I was somehow replaced. Would I miss the Bat family? Maybe. Maybe not.

I did in fact wish the new younger Robin good luck. When Tim looked up at me, his light blue eyes were so innocent and frightened about me leaving him behind. I didn’t know why he would be so upset about me leaving; wouldn’t he want all of Bruce’s attention without me hanging around the mansion?

Now I’m twenty-one-years-old, and I’m still a student at Gotham University. Alfred had just called and informed me Bruce wants me back home.

As I sit in a taxi while anxiously waiting to pull up to Wayne Manor, I honestly don’t know why Bruce wants me back at home. Alfred has kept me up to date about the Bat family incidents and activities I have missed out those few years such as:

Dick Grayson becoming a womanizer (I saw it coming) and how he’s juggling working as a police officer and Nightwing. He’s still the favorite and golden child in Bruce’s eyes.

Jason Todd is back from the dead, and he’s currently operating his own team: Red Hood and the Outlaws (who knew he was leadership material underneath that thick skull of his?).

Tim Drake is Red Robin (does the fast food chain restaurant know about his superhero name?), and he’s currently assisting the Teen Titans when necessary while simultaneously aiding Bruce with detective work.

Damian Wayne is Bruce Wayne’s unknown biological child. I think he’s about fifteen-years-old now; from what I remember the last time I spoke to Alfred. I met Damian once, when Bruce asked me to meet him once Talia al Ghul practically dropped him off at Bruce’s doorstep. The boy was a little shit: bratty, stuck up, and insensitive. Even though he is the spitting image of Bruce, minus the different colored eyes (Bruce has blue and Damian’s are green), Damian claims he is set to take over the cowl when Bruce is either dead or done. God help us all…

But I still can’t figure out why I am needed back home. Is Alfred sick? Is Bruce dying after fighting all these years? Is it one of my brothers?

I jump in surprise once the taxi comes to a hard stop. After paying the man, I grab my duffel bag and I climb the front steps that I suddenly remember jumping off them as a kid. Alfred scolded me many times, and I still did it because being bad was fun.

I scoff loudly, and I jump down the five steps that would have given Alfred a heart attack. Maybe I haven’t changed as much as I thought.

I find the wooden front door unlocked, which is odd considering Alfred always makes sure to lock it. As a matter of fact, Alfred hasn’t greeted me like he always does when I come home. Where is Alfred?

After I unwrap my scarf, I pull my hoodie over my head to be more comfortable in the warm house. Sadly, I forgot to do laundry yesterday, so I came home in just my black yoga pants and red tank top. What would Alfred say?

I kick off my shoes and walk to the kitchen barefoot. Pulling my long hair into a ponytail, I notice a note on the counter that’s written for me. I unfold the note and stare at the nicest, well done cursive handwriting only one man can do here.

Dear Lady Y/N,

I sincerely apologize for not being there to greet you properly. Master Bruce had wanted me to take my holiday to London early, and Lord knows I can use a week to myself after stitching up countless wounds, tidying up bedrooms and Bat caves, and playing messenger between you and your father. I have a cooked roast with garlic mash potatoes in the refrigerator if you are hungry. Do heat it up and perhaps show your father and brothers how to use the microwave.

I dearly love you and the boys,

Love Alfred Pennyworth

P.S.

Look into the highest cabinet above the refrigerator, and you will discover a jar of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies just for you.

I grin widely, and before I can turn around and find the cookies, I’m stuck between the counter and a tall, hard body behind me. I freeze.

“Welcome home, Y/N. I missed you so much,” Bruce whispers in my ear. I can feel his hot breath above my shoulder and neck. The familiar smell of his expensive cologne fills my nostrils. His large hands rub my legs and grip onto my hips very hard. “Did you miss me?”

“H-hi dad. W-what are you doing?” I ask softly, but I know it came out like a whisper. One of his hands is holding my waist, while the other caresses my abdomen. It feels strange considering Bruce is supposed to be my father, and we shouldn’t be this close or even touching each other. But a part of me wants to keep feeling his hands on me and see what he does next.

“Holding you. Smelling you. Touching you,” he answers, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He breathes harder when I press my backside against his front by accident. “It appears you want this too. Am I correct, Y/N?”

His hand pulls down my yoga pants enough, so he can reach into my underwear. Bruce continues to breathe hard from his nose when his fingers find my core. His thumb rubs fast circles on my clit, while he pushes two fingers inside me. I bite my bottom lip to stop a loud moan from coming out of me, but he appears he’ll have none of that. He stops fingering me.

“You better be loud, or I won’t let you cum, Y/N.”

Before I can beg him to keep going, he turns my face, so I can look him in those cold, pale blue eyes. “Please tell me you’re…not a virgin.” Bruce’s face is twisted in pleasure from just fingering me, but I can tell his lips are trembling and there’s a soft but pleading look in his eyes. This must hurt him as much as it’s hurting me.

“I-I’m not,” I confess, and wonder if he would change his mind if I said I was.

“Who was it with?” Bruce demands. He kisses along my shoulder to my neck before he bites on my soft spot. I hiss in pain and I grind into him again.

“Josh Mitchell. I was sixteen,” I answer harshly.

“Was he any good?”

Before I can answer, Bruce shoves the front of my body onto the counter, while he pulls down my yoga pants. My adrenaline is rushing, and I can feel myself wetting the counter from just his roughness. I can feel him unzip his pants and I can already imagine this thick, hard cock fucking me into oblivion.

“No, no he wasn’t good at all!” I cry out.

“Good, I’m actually relieved to hear that,” Bruce says, as he starts to stroke himself. “Do you want me to fuck you, Y/N?”

I want to turn around and watch him jack off. Hearing him pleasure himself isn’t enough. Bruce then jams two fingers back into my pussy and I whimper loudly. It has been too long since I’ve been intimate with a man. I need his cock now!

“I asked you a question, Y/N. Do I need to remind you who you are supposed to answer to?” he says seriously before adding a third finger inside me. I grip the counter and I breathe harder. I find myself rubbing my pussy on the edge of the smooth countertop for more friction, but he grabs my hips and stops me. “Now, do you want me to fuck you, Y/N, or should I leave you here, so you can dry hump the countertop alone?”

I growl louder, while my nails scratch the counter top. “YES! Yes, I want you to fuck me, Dad!”

As soon as those words left my mouth, I immediately wonder if I killed the mood. Why would I call him ‘dad’ when we’re about to have hot, rough sex in the kitchen? I need to apologize. I push myself up on my elbows and I shift my head to the side to apologize. I open my mouth to speak but stop when Bruce’s eyes darkened, and he growls as he slams his thick cock inside me.

I moan louder than I have in my entire life. His cock fills me up so much that I fear I won’t be able to walk straight for the next week or two. Bruce lifts my legs up and continues to shove me against the counter with every hard thrust. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to fuck me. The man is practically drilling into me with no kindness at all.

“Oh fuck! You’re so fucking tight. So wet and so hot,” Bruce groans out. With each thrust, I can feel he wants to let go and fuck me like he owns me.

“Go ahead, Dad. Fuck me. Fuck me like I’m yours and only yours,” I tempt him playfully.

Bruce growls and rams his cock faster into me. He keeps knocking the air out from my lungs, and I can feel my body pulsating against his. I grip the countertop harder each time, and I know my knuckles are turning white and becoming numb every second. With one hand on my hips, Bruce moves his other hand up my tank top to hold my tits.

“No bra? You’re a bad girl,” Bruce says in between panting.

“I forgot to do laundry,” I choke out.

“Excuses,” he manages to say, as he holds me up more, so he can penetrate me deeper. His cock is hitting a deeper spot in me. It must be my g-spot, because I have read about it but never actually felt it to know. I can feel myself clenching his dick tightly, and I know I’m getting closer to release. “You wanted me and your brothers to see your tits, huh?”

“Maybe,” I cry out louder than what I intended to. Fuck, what if one of my brothers hears me? They’ll really think I’m insane for fucking our father and for loving it every second. Bruce readjusts our position once more, so he can hit that spot continuously. “I-I think I’m going to cum!”

“Not yet, you better not!” Bruce growls, and drills into me harder and faster. With his powerful thrusts and the constant friction from the countertop on my clit, I know for a fact that I can’t last longer. His hands hold onto my hips while he fucks me harder than before.

I become a moaning mess. I can feel my mouth drop open because I feel liquid coming out from my core. Did I just squirt? What the hell is happening to me?

The sounds of skin on skin is louder because of my mess. I drop my head onto the counter while Bruce continues to fuck me. Before I can catch my breath, Bruce chuckles and lifts me up. “I just made you squirt. That has never happened before, has it?”

“No, that was my first time,” I answer breathlessly. He kisses my neck.

“You’re so wet,” Bruce grunts into my ear. Breathing heavily, he lifts my hips again, so he can rub my clit with his fingers. “You’re making a mess all over my cock. You’re such a bad girl.”

“I’m your bad girl,” I moan out, as I can feel another orgasm threatening to take over my body.

“Fuck yes, you are!” Bruce groans, and continues to shove his cock into my soaking wet pussy.

With every rough thrust, I know Bruce won’t last. I whimper once more when my pussy clenches his dick as he fucks me through my orgasm. A few more hard thrusts, Bruce pulls out and turns me over onto my back. He jacks himself off as I watch his cum spurt out all over my stomach.

Just seeing his hard, veiny thick cock before me turns me on once more. I lick my lips at how the tip of his dick glistens with his cum.

Bruce sighs heavily, and just when I think I should try to get up and clean myself, he pulls me up and kisses me. He shoves his tongue into my mouth, and we explore each other’s mouths as if this was our last chance to. He pulls away from me and rests his forehead against mine.

“You’re mine, Y/N. You belong to me, and the Batfamily. I don’t care who wants you, because you will never give them what you have given me. Do you understand?” Bruce asks, before giving me his famous bat glare.

“I understand, and I promise,” I swear before he kisses me once more.

“Good, now go wash up,” Bruce instructs before he helps me off the counter.

I grab a paper towel and wipe Bruce’s cum off my stomach before I pull up my yoga pants. As soon as I toss the damped paper towel into the trash, I immediately notice Dick Grayson is standing there at the entrance of the kitchen staring at me with fire in his eyes.

#dc comics #batman #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x reader smut #bruce wayne x y/n smut #bruce wayne smut #batman smut

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dead-ofthe-knight · 3 years

Text

Explanation of batman from what I've gathered from one(1) movie and the fandom. Possible spoilers/wrong things here! Feel free to tell me anything I got wrong!

I only watched under the red hood, which is a jason todd centric movie that takes place afrer his 'death'. but lets start from the beggining.

So, Batman, Bruce Wayne (Wain? Wayne??idk) is a superhero vigilante that fights crime during the night, and he has no parents. He's filthy rich for no reason that I'm aware of. He runs a company??? Idk much about that it aint important.

Bruce adopts this kid named Dick, presumably short for Richard, and Idk his last name?? idk. He's the boy wonder the golden child the first robin all that good shit, then he gets too old and becomes like nightwing or smth. He also has like a team at some point and hes also the robin thats in teen titans/teen titans go

Bruce then adopts a second kid. This kid is like poor and hes from the crime place, his name is Jason Dean- oh no sorry, Jason Todd. Anyways Jason is the second robin, blah blah hes a reckless lad, blah blah hes a weird child, blah blah oh no he exploded-

Bruce adopts another kid! Kinda. That wasnt his plan?? but anyways, this kid is named Tim... uhh I forgot his last name. Drake? Tim Drake? ok thst sounds right lets go. Timmie here finds out that Bruce is batman and decides... "Im gonna blackmail him!" so he does, becomes robin, gets his parents killed- oh god Jasons alive wtf.

So Jason came back to life and he's angry. This is where under the red hood takes place but Tim Drake is not in this movie even though he should be the current robin?? Ok anyways, Jason is angry. He dismantles some crime like a boss but kills people while hes doing that and batmans like no stop, so naturally, Jason doeant. Stuff happens, Jason threatens to kill Joker?? Batman shoots a bat-knife at his gun/neck (its different in different sources, in the movie its the gun) and Jasons like "AAAGH" and I forgot what comes next.

Anyways, after that Batman at some point got a lady pregnant! She brings the resulting child to batman like "hey :)". Turns out this kid, Damian(Damien?) is an asassin thing which is... weird. But we dont need to talk about DCs questionable motives rn. Damian is a whiny ass toddler-like puberty filled teenager, and Batmans like "SWEET I can make that into a soldier!" so he does.

Sidenotes:

•Jasons ressurection was described in two different ways, in one he dug himsrlf out of his grave after just,,,, waking up? In the other he gets yeeted into the green goo lake(lazarus pit) and gets revived by that one guy whos name is definitely middle eastern that I cant remember rn.

•Dick is overly sexualised apparently, and people talk about his butt a lot?

•Tim went to dinner with a guy once!

•Tim also had a girlfriend up until now apparently?

•Tim is also a caffeine addict????

•Dick being hot is a really common thing to point out in fanfics and I cant disagree

•I still have no idea who tf the Joker is but he crowbarred Jason to a pulp and then left him to explode in some place in under the red hood and possibly in the other sources where Jason dies as well

•Batman doesnt like guns because his kom and dad were shot

•He also hates murder

•Alfred is very old by now, considering he was old when Bruce wad a kid, and now Bruce is in shis 40s to 50s?? and Alfred has not died yet???? of old age???? He should! But im glad he hasnt

•Theres a mute lady whos not mute anymore apparently

•Theres also this guy who spreads fear gas thing,, uhh scarecrow?? idk

•Theres this guy called Roy Harper? And he wields a bow and arrow? and people think thst him and Jason should kiss

•Dick got married to starfire at some point but in a later installment Jason has sex with her?

#batman #bruce wayne #jason todd #alfred hitchcock #tim drake #damian wayne

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 3 years

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It Takes Me All the Way

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Explicit (E) Notes: This is my fic for my @starkerfestivals summer BINGO “flower shop au” square. The following idea hit me in the head a couple of days ago & I couldn’t let it go until the whole thing was written. Here’s my bingo card - if you see something on there you might want written, shoot me a message!!! Word Count: 11.5K Warnings: There’s a tiny bit of smut in here, but it’s me writing, so when is that not the case?

Summary:

'For the next half an hour, Peter learned about flower language and the subtle way to artfully layer flowers so the colors blended meaningfully together. Peter didn’t retain too much about the flowers themselves – they were beautiful and coordinated perfectly, but Tony out shone them all. He was obviously in his element; the simple way the information fell from his mouth spoke of years of study and tons of hands-on knowledge. Not only was the man smart, he had an eye for style and created little living masterpieces without much thought.

By the time Peter worked up the courage to make any sort of move, they were at the register, seconds away from a complete transaction. He was in too deep to let the spark between them go another time. Steeling himself for whatever might come, Peter took a deep breath and leapt. “Hey, before I go – would you like to go out with me sometime?"'

Or: the one where Tony's a florist and Peter kind of digs that.

Read on AO3 here.

----

After taking home the third, consecutive NCA Championship title, Peter craved a tame summer. Unlike the rest of his teammates, he had no dreams of furthering his cheerleading career by becoming a coach; while everyone else flocked to the NCA cheer champ coaching positions, Peter tried his hardest to create some distance between himself and the sport.

Of course, that was easier said than done when his very best friend was also a teammate. Since the day MJ pulled him off the gymnastics mat and thrust him not so gently into the world of cheer in seventh grade, Peter never looked back – not to gymnastics or the people he left behind. He didn’t naturally fit in with anyone, but with MJ by his side and an incredible amount of athleticism, high school passed by in a whirlwind of football games, competitions, and a rich education Peter clung to. Being smart was a way out of the conservative little town that would never accept the truth of who Peter truly was.

When Purdue became an option for the both of them, Peter immediately understood moving to Indiana was the next step in life’s adventure. It wasn’t the big city that he always imagined he’d escape to, but Peter couldn’t argue with a full ride academic scholarship and a spot earned on the cheer team. As a male with tumbling experience and a shocking amount of strength for his size, Peter didn’t have to wonder about his spot on the team – he’d been leading teams to competition wins for years. Stepping out of the narrow-minded world of Springfield, Missouri was the only thing that mattered; the ability to do what he wanted without worrying about where the money came from to do it – that was just a delightful bonus.

Despite the challenges of college athletics and a philosophy major, Peter managed to keep his close friendship with MJ. They’d been a stunting pair for ages and their similarities made it easy to not only be around each other but stay tight knit in their connection. Going through so many of the trials of growing up together, Peter didn’t know what life would be like without her. After coming out and receiving nothing but a hug and a shy “me too”, their bond was cemented – made permanent in a way that something shared tied one person to another.

Their undying friendship and ridiculous commitment to each other was how he found himself balls deep in wedding planning, instead of relaxing in the peace and quiet of his one-bedroom apartment, playing video games and reading all the books he didn’t get to crunch out during the busy school year. MJ didn’t even bother asking him to be her ‘man’ of honor – after popping the question to Darcy, she simply sent him a list of things to do and dove right in.

Between bachelorette parties, bridal showers, and the seemingly impossible hunt for the best bridesmaid’s dresses, Peter hadn’t spent more than a couple days of the break on his own. Though he loved the fuck out of MJ and her soon-to-be wife, he couldn’t wait for the wedding to come and go. A little peace and alone time was exactly what he needed.

Finally, after a week of long nights and last-minute errands, the big day was upon them. The beautiful ranch venue radiated with a rich sunshine, basking the place in a lucky sort of golden glow. Since he didn’t have to spend his entire morning trapped in a makeup chair, Peter got to enjoy the beautiful weather firsthand as he contributed to the set up and decorating. Aside from helping MJ get into the admittedly cool pant suit she planned to wear, Peter’s time was his own until an hour before the ceremony.

Grinning at the thought, Peter pulled out one of the reception hall chairs and sat down heavily. He relaxed into the comfortable wood, reaching up to run a hand through his formidable curls. They were sans gel at the moment; his fingers sailed through the silky strands with ease.

Peter wasn’t aware he closed his eyes until a loud clatter had them blinking open in surprise. Swiftly turning towards the noise, Peter stopped in his tracks at the sight in front of him.

A big gray vase was the source of the noise, there was no doubt about that the second Peter spotted it. What completely took his breath away, or maybe who, was the man holding said vase. Peter saw tanned arms that were toned to perfection right off the bat. It was obvious at first glance that the owner of those limbs worked outside with his hands frequently. The lithe muscles and glorious golden skin tone spoke more of manual work than physical exercise. With his eyes travelling up firm forearms and the swell of a built bicep, Peter noticed the man’s hair next. Tamed by a plain white dad hat, an abundance of unruly curls flipped under the edges of the brim and sides. Peter imagined a flowing head of dark brunette hair he could easily slip his fingers into the depths of.

As if the man knew Peter was staring, he turned towards Peter’s table, an intrigued look on his face. A face that, after taking in the rest of the stranger’s glorious beauty, didn’t seem fair. Well-kept facial hair outlined perfect lips pulled into a knowing smirk. Rich, honey-golden eyes were just visible under the brim of the man’s sweat-stained hat. They seemed to pierce Peter right in the chest, like their unblinking nature dug under his skin and saw everything he tried so desperately to hide. The feeling was unnerving yet so exhilarating all the same. Though he felt so very exposed, Peter wanted nothing more than to narrow the space and get to know the handsome stranger.

Luckily, his chance came a couple hours later.

To stop himself from shamelessly flirting, Peter hightailed it out of the reception hall the second he could, using a check up on MJ as a guise for his obvious escape. Most of his friends were exactly where he left them at the start of the morning – it was a marvel that anything got done when they all got together. After braving the makeup talk and putting out a few emotional fires, Peter’s reprieve came in the form of a man of honor errand.

With MJ’s credit card in hand, Peter made his way to the front of the building where the florist was waiting. He’d been so glad to get out of the bridal suite that he didn’t stop to think about the stranger and the beautiful floral arrangement that’d been in his hand or to make the connection between the two. For the second time that day, Peter tripped over himself when the man came into view. Now that an actual need to speak to him was in sight, Peter didn’t know if he could make his mouth work to take the chance.

Recognition was clear on the florist’s face – though they didn’t know one another, it was hard to forget the very long, very obvious stare Peter was caught in. Those utterly kissable lips were upturned, the pinch around the man’s eyes from the grin making him all the more attractive. Rolling his eyes at the thought (like he needed to be any more attractive), Peter tried to school his features and return the smile with one of his own.

“Hi! I’m Peter, MJ’s man of honor. She sent me to square up the bill for the flowers,” Peter said in greeting. As the space between them narrowed down, Peter nervously reached out, his free hand suddenly taking up the space between them.

A surprisingly soft hand slipped into his a moment later – the touch was firm and efficient, only lingering a second longer than usually appropriate. “Nice to meet you, Peter. Please let MJ know that I really enjoyed the challenge of the flower choices. Geraniums are hard to come by this late in the season.”

Pulling away, despite the desperate want to have the man’s hands all over him, Peter nodded in understanding – most of both MJ and Darcy’s choices were high maintenance and unique. The planning of every step along the way had been an absolute bear. “That’s MJ for you,” Peter agreed with a light chuckle. “We’ve been scrambling around the last week or so trying to get all the details right.”

There was a shared moment of silence where the two simply smiled at each other. The florist seemed just as lost as Peter, the joint look of discomfort and wonder more telling than any words ever could be. For Peter, each second that passed was a small gift he gluttonously got to unwrap until the magic was broken.

“It’s her big day, she should have what she wants,” Tony finally replied, the words and a red blush breaking the silence. “I like the unique stuff, anyway – keeps the job interesting.”

Without missing a beat, a paper invoice was thrust in his direction. “I took out the delivery fee from the total since I was in the area already.”

After that, it didn’t take more than a couple of minutes to complete the transaction – the florist worked swiftly, his fingers nimble and knowledgeable in every movement he made as he swiped MJ’s card and handed it quickly back to Peter. The brush of their fingers in the exchange seemed purposeful, though – especially with the smirk and red blush that followed.

Caught up in how brilliant the look was, Peter didn’t realize there was nothing keeping him there until the shuffling of feet brought the reality of the situation back with a vengeance. As much as he wanted to stay and chat, or ask for a number, or even a name, Peter knew the time wasn’t right. He already felt so caught up – actually having access to his preoccupation wouldn’t be good for his focus. It was MJ’s day; he owed it to her to keep his shit together and make every second of it the very best.

Looking up, Peter shot the other man a large grin before lifting a hand, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. “I better get back,” Peter started awkwardly, “but thank you – for helping make MJ’s day so beautiful.”

With a nod, the florist pocketed his phone and took off towards the parking lot. Peter watched him walk away just long enough to catch the glance over work-firm shoulders. Hazel and brown met for a moment before Peter forced himself to walk away – a large part of him wanted to sprint across the black top to stop the gorgeous man from leaving. Something in the pit of his chest was pulsing with life; the feeling was so foreign that Peter pushed it down and quickly ran in the opposite direction, instead.

Peter got back to the bridal suite in a wonky haze – so much so that he didn’t even realize he walked through the door until MJ’s voice broke through his rampaging thoughts. “Did you get everything squared away with Tony?”

Turning towards her, Peter tilted his head, a crease in his brow appearing in his confusion. “Tony?” Peter questioned as he made his way over to the big table in the center of the room to deposit both the invoice and MJ’s credit card.

“Tony – the florist. I sent you to pay the bill. Please tell me you didn’t get lost along the way.” MJ shot him a knowing look, her hazel eyes blazing with affection. “He was a great help these last couple of months – matching all the colors would’ve been impossible without him.”

His brain halted for a second, the organ doing nothing but processing the fact that his handsome stranger now had a name. Recalling the beautiful face, Peter figured the name Tony fit the man pretty perfectly. With that knowledge, it was quickly becoming obvious that his focus was already shot – Tony with toned arms and a delectably deep voice already took up space there, just waiting to distract Peter at the worst possible time.

Like that moment, where MJ was staring at him with growing concern, waiting for a simple yes or no to her easily answerable question. Peter shot her an embarrassed grin when he got himself back under control. Sheepishly, he reached up to run a hand through his hair. “All is well. He told me to tell you he enjoyed the challenge. Oh, and he nixed the delivery fee – said he was already in the area.” He tried to sound cool as he spoke, to not give his interest away. Yet he knew almost immediately he wasn’t successful – Peter heard his own excitement as the words bounced around in his ears.

“So it’s like that,” MJ said, looking at him much more critically now.

“Like what?” Peter shot back, refusing to look her directly in the eye. She already caught the scent – the second he gave her the satisfaction of seeing the truth in his eyes, Peter would never hear the end of it. Regardless of the very important fact that Peter, despite wanting to more than ever, didn’t even pursue the obvious and very mutual interest.

Instead of pushing, MJ surprisingly let a knowing smile overtake her face.

“I see you Peter Parker.”

Luckily, the hustle and bustle of pre-wedding preparations and nerves that were inescapable, swept the subject right off the table a moment later. Peter happily helped MJ make her finishing touches in preparation for finally meeting her wife at the end of the aisle. Getting so swept up in it all, Peter allowed himself to forget the hazel eyed man for the rest of the evening. MJ and Darcy looked so happy – it was hard to see passed anything other than their beaming smiles and the bright future waiting for them.

----

The next few weeks passed by in a flash. Peter finally got some time to himself and reveled in it, taking advantage of every second of solitary freedom he could purge himself on before his final season began. Movies, books, and his favorite video games were the only thing Peter allowed himself to think about (and Tony, so many of his thoughts were about the gorgeous florist). He even went as far as to bar MJ and Darcy from the apartment when they got back from their honeymoon – it was the least they could do after running him ragged with errands and things over the previous few months. The last thing he wanted to deal with was the bombardment of newly wed grossness; it’d been some time since Peter felt the luscious caress of love against his heart and soul – and jealousy just didn’t look good on him.

When his self-imposed isolation came to an end, Peter begrudgingly got back into a suitable routine. Though cheer practice was different without MJ there, Peter easily sunk back into the drills and full body workouts that came after an entire summer off on their own. Hayley, their coach extraordinaire, pushed them hard in the beginning – it was the best way to filter out those who wouldn’t make it when the season really got started and competition prep took over all of their lives.

Once his muscles got used to the severe beating he took on a daily basis, Peter was more than ready for the year to start. Football games and the atmosphere that came with being a Boiler were a lot of fun; and with his decreased workload as a fifth-year senior, Peter planned to enjoy the easy-going nature of spirit and poms and comradery before the teeth came out and everyone’s battle armor settled into place. When competition season started, the team’s overall atmosphere and driving motivations changed.

Of course, just when Peter thought things were going just the way they should, karma came around to prove him wrong. After a long practice the week before the semester started, one of their flyers fell from a stunt, completely unaware of her contact with the ground’s effect until someone on the other side of the mat screamed. The sight, when Peter allowed himself to look, turned his stomach – he’d never seen a dislocated hip in person before and hoped to never do so again.

After the trauma of having the paramedics all over their turf, the team was given a couple of days off to recuperate. Peter and the rest of the squad planned to take advantage of the freedom by visiting Macy, who ended up having to have emergency surgery to save both her leg and her life. Though he knew a bouquet of flowers wouldn’t change the fact that she would never be able to cheer ever again, Peter figured it was a nice touch and planned to have one made before heading to the hospital.

Googling the closest florist, Peter was surprised to find a shop so near to campus. Many of the businesses surrounding Purdue were food joints or bars that were guaranteed to get a lot of steady business during the semester and over the summer. He wondered, just for a moment, how such a random store managed to survive the college population.

It took one look at the place to understand why the shop fit exactly where it was. Instead of the old lady feel he assumed he’d find, Peter stepped in front of a large windowed building with intricate flower arrangements filling the visible shelves. On the far side of the door was a mural of the Purdue P surrounded by all types of flora. The word Stark’s was camouflaged within the swarm of vines and greenery throughout the painting. It was well done and in the perfect, eye-catching spot.

A small bell over the door rang as Peter walked through it – at least one of the cliches in his mind was accurate. Grinning at the thought, Peter let his legs carry him further into the store, his head on a swivel to look at all the beautiful foliage placed strategically from one wall to the other. Though he knew nothing of plants, Peter understood the art of drawing attention – he participated in a sport that perfected it. From the placement to the intrigue, whoever owned the shop knew exactly what to do to draw a person in.

Peter stopped his exploration when a recognizable voice echoed throughout the space – “I’ll be right with you.” Upon hearing the timber and depth that haunted Peter every night since MJ’s wedding, he almost turned around and walked right back out of the store. He wasn’t equipped for the gorgeous man and his distracting smile and eyes and shapely ass.

Before he could make his feet move or even think, Tony and his inarguable gorgeousness walked in through the back door. His hands were covered in dirty gloves, a newly potted plant in the crook of his elbow. A denim apron covered a plain white t-shirt and black jeans that peaked out the bottom. At the sight of him, Peter had to force himself to keep his mouth closed and the pace of his heart under control – much like the last time he enjoyed the view, Peter wanted to bound across the distance and intimately get to know the other man.

Met with a smile when their eyes locked, Peter reminded himself to remain calm and smile back, to actually act like a human person with thoughts and the ability to actually articulate them. He came in here for a reason, walking out of the store with anything but the arrangement he wanted to bring to the hospital was unacceptable.

Tony, upon recognizing him, took the first step towards intelligible conversation.

“Peter, right? It’s nice to see you in here! How’d the wedding go?”

Blushing at the familiarity, Peter dipped his head and took a deep breath, hoping to collect himself enough to actually reply back. “Hi, yes. Peter. It’s nice to see you, too. I was surprised to see a flower shop in the middle of college central, but your place seems to fit in really nicely. No wonder MJ was pulled in,” Peter said in reply, getting the words out all at once to make sure they all saw the light of day. “The wedding was beautiful. Both brides are blissfully happy, and your floral arrangements were the topic of several conversations I had that night. You do good work, Tony.”

Peter’s heart stopped when Tony tilted his head back into a laugh a moment later. How did someone look so sexy doing something so base? No matter what happened, Peter knew he’d never understand such a thing. To cover up his reaction, Peter added his own laugh to the mix – the sounds harmonious in the empty shop.

“Yeah, I’m sure my flowers were a hot topic of conversation, especially with those beautiful women in the room. Thanks for the kind words, though,” Tony mumbled through a laugh. As he spoke, Tony reached up to brush an errant curl from his forehead – without the hat, the hair on Tony’s head looked unruly and all over the place, untamed and absolutely beautiful. The move left the smallest remnant of dirt on his skin, the black flecks of soil like little calling cards with Peter’s name on them. His fingers itched to reach up and brush them away. Tony’s next words shook him of the thought – “What brings you in today?”

“One of my teammates fell and injured herself pretty severely. We, as a team, decided to rub in the fact that she’ll never join us on the mat again by visiting her now that she’s out of the ICU. I figured some pretty flowers might soften the blow,” Peter explained, coloring at the blunt honesty that trickled from his mouth.

Tony looked intrigued, the other man completely unfazed by Peter’s word choice and candid nature. “Must be a dangerous sport if you guys are nursing career ending injuries.” He signaled for Peter to follow him with a swift flick of his hand.

“I’ve seen some pretty intense injuries in my long cheerleading career, for sure. People flying through the air, and all that. I wouldn’t call the sport in general dangerous, per say – I’d say the expectations we have to meet are what’s dangerous. The look, the difficulty of the stunts we make our bodies do – it’s demanding,” Peter remarked, following a couple steps behind Tony as they walked.

“Sounds misogynistic as hell.”

Laughing at the truth of Tony’s statement, Peter nodded enthusiastically. His heart felt warm from the idea of the random stranger in front of him understanding his struggles better than May and Ben ever could. Tony didn’t know him, and yet Peter couldn’t remember ever feeling so seen. “Oh, it is. The beauty standards are unbelievable and if you’re a male in the cheer world, forget it – you’re fodder for mockery and intense judgement. I fit the stereotype and even I can’t catch a break.”

“What’s the stereotype?” Tony asked with a soft tilt of his head and curiousness in his eyes.

They stopped suddenly then – the space between them was narrowed down to a couple of feet with an abundance of plants surrounding them on both sides. If he took a step or two forward, Peter wouldn’t have too much trouble reaching out and touching Tony’s beautifully tanned skin like he so desperately wanted to. It took too much effort to stop himself from doing exactly that. How exhausting.

Without waiting another beat or giving himself another moment to eye kissable lips, Peter uttered the answer with subtle breathlessness – “Gay. Flaming homosexual is usually what people attribute to the men of the cheer world.”

Color travelled up Tony’s cheeks, his lips quirking ever so slightly. He took his time answering, the man obviously thinking through his reply before blurting whatever he had to say into the universe. “Huh. That’s interesting, considering football players don’t go a play without touching each other on the ass.” Tony stopped for a second, making sure to catch Peter’s eye. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” Peter answered immediately, the words coming out of his mouth without thought. “Its been my life since 7th grade.”

“I guess that’s all that matters, then,” Tony replied softly, a small, familiar smile on his lips. “Now back to your friend – what’s her favorite color?”

For the next half an hour, Peter learned about flower language and the subtle way to artfully layer flowers so the colors blended meaningfully together. Peter didn’t retain too much about the flowers themselves – they were beautiful and coordinated perfectly, but Tony out shone them all. He was obviously in his element; the simple way the information fell from his mouth spoke of years of study and tons of hands-on knowledge. Not only was the man smart, he had an eye for style and created little living masterpieces without much thought.

For what it was worth, the look of surprise that crossed over Tony’s face was brief. It made Peter’s breath catch in anticipation – for the first time in their short acquaintance, Peter felt uncertain. The feeling quickly passed, however; Tony’s face split into a beaming smile, the earlier surprise so easily replaced with seemingly genuine happiness.

“Yeah, I’d love to. I close up shop around 6 – are you free tonight?” Tony’s cheeks were stained with a rapidly darkening, gorgeous blush, hazel eyes shining.

Peter couldn’t remember what the next ten minutes entailed, let alone that evening – yet, whatever it was, he’d happily reschedule. There wasn’t a single thing that would stop him from saying yes to whatever Tony suggested. “I am. How about I meet you out front at 6:30? I’ll call Tasha and grab us a table for 7.”

Tony nodded, reaching across the counter towards Peter’s phone. “That sounds good. I’ll give you my number in case something changes. I’ve got a greenhouse out back and tend to forget myself. I sometimes lose track of time.”

Completely taken by every new thing he learned about Tony, Peter opened the phone and pushed it in Tony’s direction without hesitation. He didn’t expect the older man to be so forward – then again, Peter wasn’t all that surprised, either; Tony owned, operated, and supplied a successful business – he had to know what he was doing to some extent.

Watching with a delirious sort of haze, Peter followed as Tony’s fingers enter his number, then hit the green button to call himself. A phone on the back counter buzzed a couple of times before Tony ended the call and slid Peter’s phone back to him. “See you later, Peter. Tell your friend I wish her a speedy recovery.”

Numb hands grabbed the arrangement off the counter – Peter raised it towards Tony in a mock solute. “Until tonight, then.” Peter muttered the words excitedly. “Bye, Tony.”

He forced himself to keep his head down in hopes of actually making it out of the store. Peter wanted to turn around and look goofily at Tony – now that he knew his feelings were reciprocated, there was nothing stopping his desire from slipping out. Since the wedding, Peter forced the thought of strong arms and bright eyes from his head, just to be haunted by Tony’s beauty when he closed his eyes and let sleep take hold. His subconscious wasn’t on board with suppressing his urges – the fact that karma played a role made the rightness he felt even more valid.

Tony wanted him too.

His visit with Macy and the team was an immediate drag to his mood – the mix of emotions of the people surrounding their friend attempting to express sympathy was exhausting. Every person in the room feared Macy’s position in the bed. Some handled the anxiety better than others. The one bright spot of the visit, of course, was Tony’s arrangement. MJ immediately recognized the man’s work and winked at him knowingly. Peter didn’t stop a grin from slipping across his face; in their silent means of communication, the look was answer enough.

MJ corned him in the parking lot everyone dispersed to an appropriate amount of time later. When the room started to get too cloying, Peter made his excuses, prompting everyone to follow suit. There was only so much sad he could take – especially when a potential light in his dark tunnel shone so bright, waiting for him just hours away. They stopped at the trunk of Peter’s car, MJ leaning against the bumper like always. “Peter, spill. I haven’t seen that goofy look on your face since high school. Did something happen with Tony?”

Snorting at MJ’s impeccable awareness, Peter shifted until he could wrap his arm around her. He leaned his head against the side of MJ’s, closing his eyes. “Your florist is the best-looking man I’ve ever laid eyes on. I maturely held myself back at the wedding to be there with you in the moment and those karma points I banked were good to me today. I walked into Stark’s for some flowers for Macy and couldn’t bear to walk out without a chance to see him again.” Peter turned his head until he could press a kiss to her forehead. “We’re going out tonight.”

“I’m happy for you,” MJ said, her thin arms wrapping around him. “When I first met him, I thought you two might like each other. He’s older, a little weird, smart as hell – just your type.”

“I guess there’s a reason why you’re my best friend,” Peter quipped. “Seriously, though. Thank you – you always point me in the right direction. I really like him.”

MJ pulled back just enough to tap her forefinger against Peter’s nose – the move their sign of affection for years now. “Go get your man, Pete.”

----

To stop himself from pacing up and down the hall of his apartment, Peter went to the fitness center on campus – a hard workout with the weights was exactly what his body needed. Sweating and listening to a couple of playlists took Peter away from his thoughts of dinner later and into a mindset that let him just exist. It didn’t hurt that the pump in his arms looked amazing by the time he packed up and called it a day.

Timing it perfectly, Peter left himself an hour to get back to his apartment, shower, and decide on an outfit that didn’t shout desperate, but expressed his implicit interest, too. Not living too far from campus made it easy to fret about his clothes after a lengthy shower that took every ounce of Peter’s willpower to not masturbate anxiously. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to face the star of his fantasies head on after beating off to the thought of Tony’s tanned skin and gorgeous smile.

After a few restless passes through every piece in his closet, Peter took a large step back, attempting to clear his head. From what he already learned of the older man, Peter knew Tony looked flawless in anything – his style was basic, but the casual nature in which it was worn made the look stylish, anyway. Tasha’s restaurant wasn’t the fanciest place in the world and the pressing feeling of being comfortable in Tony’s presence made an outfit pop into Peter’s head after a couple of long breaths that helped to calm him down.

Peter slipped into his favorite dark wash jeans, smiling all the while – it seemed silly, the anxiety he danced with less than five minutes ago. He’d felt nothing but ease and excitement around Tony, getting himself prepared for a date with the man wasn’t as life and death as he let himself believe. Stressing over something that felt simple in every other way was a new feeling – Peter carried an abundance of confidence with him everywhere. The change made Peter believe whatever might happen with Tony was different and so much better than any other romantic dalliance he’d ever taken part in.

The outfit was finished with a couple small sprays of his favorite cologne – Peter only broke out the fancy stuff for special occasions. With a tug to his rolled shirt sleeve and the slightest adjustment of his collar, Peter took a deep breath and wandered across the room to stop in front of his mirror. His straight legged jeans were clasped at the waist with a black leather belt that cut Peter’s figure dramatically. Both muscular and trim, Peter went out of his way to make sure each attribute was highlighted appropriately. A white and blue stripped short sleeve button up wrapped around Peter’s firm biceps and tucked neatly into his waistband to highlight the narrowness of his hips.

Aside from the rogue curls Peter couldn’t tame, he felt good about the way he looked – the outfit and the confidence it made him feel would be a hit. Tony seemed to like the upfront and honest way he presented himself, there wasn’t any reason to change that now. Allowing himself one last look, Peter turned away from the mirror and made his last-minute preparations – he pocketed his wallet and keys and grabbed a jacket off the coat hook on his way out of the door.

It took less than five minutes to get to Tony’s shop – without the daily traffic on the road, the drive was easy. Pocketing that fact for another time, Peter climbed out of the car excitedly; for the first time in a while, Peter felt ready to date. Tony presented intrigue and want and a curiosity that Peter hoped to cling to for as long as possible. The simple fact that Peter already felt that way spoke volumes.

A door shutting brought Peter’s attention to the sidewalk in front of him. He expected to find Tony turned around to lock the front door of the shop, yet the older man was closing a door on the side of the building instead. Even more interested now, Peter started to head in that direction.

“I live in a huge loft above the shop,” Tony said with a knowing tone, answering Peter’s unspoken question without any sort of hesitation. “When I first bought the building, a storefront wasn’t what I initially had in mind. After I opened up the shop, it made the most sense.” Tony continued to speak as he closed the distance between them.

A soft pair of lips were pressed lightly against Peter’s cheek before he could think, let alone reply. Peter felt his cheeks and neck light up with a heated flush, his body temperature skyrocketing. Tony’s next words only added to the feeling – “You look amazing, Peter.”

Swallowing his awkwardness, Peter smiled in Tony’s direction, finally taking the man in front of him fully. Tony’s legs were encased in charcoal grey jeans that were rolled twice at the cuff. The edges sat nicely against a pair of black and white vans. The tanned arms Peter hadn’t been able to stop thinking about were on display – Tony’s short sleeve button up was perfectly tight against a trim chest and firm shoulders. Other than the stubble Peter figured Tony always had, the man’s cheeks were smooth – highlighting how gorgeous the florist truly was. It didn’t hurt that their fashion senses were similar, either; Peter wondered for a moment where Tony got the floral shirt currently driving him crazy.

“You’re stunning,” Peter eventually managed to say, his breathy words finally breaking his minutes long silence. “You’ve looked great in every way I’ve seen you – covered in dirt, sweaty and working, dressed to impress – it’s kind of not fair, Tony.” Peter let the truth of what he just said sit transparently on his face. They were passed the point of coyness and subtlety; Peter wanted Tony to know he was wanted, even though they hadn’t known each other long.

His bluntness seemed to do the trick – Tony grinned widely in his direction, avoiding direct eye contact with Peter in obvious hope of getting himself back under control. “Charmer,” Tony muttered, stepping a little closer to Peter to emphasis his point.

After opening the passenger side door like the gentleman he was, Peter settled behind the wheel and onto the main road. Tasha was a former teammate, a senior his freshman year, that escaped to Paris – only to make her way back to Indiana and use the knowledge she gained in one of the cooking capitals of the world. Over the years, Silver became a regular place for Peter and the team to spend their classier nights. The food was amazing, and Tasha’s unique style made the minimalism the restaurant was known for interesting and thought provoking. When he called to make the reservation, Tasha cooed in Peter’s ear while saving his favorite table for 7.

They made easy small talk during the drive over – Peter described the pre-season workouts he’d been trucking through while Tony regaled him with a story of his last customer of the day who tried to steal roses by stuffing them down her shirt. As he listened and absorbed, Peter realized Tony was funny and full to the brim of wit – he laughed freely, the sound so joyful, Peter couldn’t help but join in. They were still chatting as the hostess led them to their table and set large menus before them.

Their drink orders were taken almost immediately – the serving staff was familiar with Peter and must’ve been tipped off before they got there. A bottle of red wine was set on the table before either of them could delve back into their previous conversation. Peter poured them each a glass, then pointed at the menu – “Did anything catch your eye?”

“I thought I’d go with the steak frites. Out of all the dishes on this extensive menu, that one immediately came to your mind. Seems like as good a reason as any to give them a try,” Tony reasoned, lifting the wine to his lips as he spoke. “What about you?”

Peter’s cheeks were already starting to hurt from the giddy smile he couldn’t help – talking and joking and simply being with Tony felt so natural. He didn’t have to think to reply casually to whatever they were talking about. “I get them every time I’m here. When Tasha first opened this place, she’d just lay dishes on the table when we sat down. I stopped being her menu taster when she introduced me to the steak frites. I haven’t had anything else here since,” Peter admitted, his cheeks flaming once again.

“You’re one of those people, huh?” Tony shot back, grinning all the while.

“One of those people?”

Tony grinned a little wider, his eyes shining with affectionate enjoyment. Before he replied, the older man slipped his hand across the table, taking Peter’s fingers lightly. “Yeah, one of those people. Someone that gets the same dish at every Chinese or Italian place they go to, no matter the options.” His thumb trailed over the back of Peter’s hand. “You like what you like.”

Feeling a little called out, Peter ducked his head to stop anymore redness from overtaking his skin – he probably resembled a tomato already. It was crazy – to feel so happy being teased. “Okay, yeah – I’m one of those people. I’ll try that one dish anywhere, though.”

They traded a few barbs back and forth until they ordered, and their dishes were sat down in front of them. Without the threat of interruptions in the near future, Peter felt ready to broach some of the more personal topics – for the first time on a date, Peter genuinely wanted to listen and find out more about the person across from him.

“So, tell me more about yourself – who is Tony Stark when not covered in dirt or up to his elbows in beautiful flowers?” Peter cut into his steak as he spoke, hoping the relaxed way he asked the question would take a little tension off Tony’s obligation to answer. The last thing he wanted to do was make their time together feel like an interrogation.

Tony didn’t seem to mind, though – he looked up with a tilt of his head. “What do you want to know? I’m shockingly not covered in dirt a lot of my time throughout the day.”

“How did your love for flowers start? Did you study horticulture in college?” Peter decided to ask.

Smiling lightly, Tony shifted in his seat, preparing himself for story time. “I studied Botany and Plant Pathology, actually. I have a doctorate in Plant Genetics and Soil and Water Sciences. During my plant genetics studies, I did some time abroad that took me to every continent – seeing the wide range of flora that exists in this world was the first time I ever thought about making plants and flowers a daily part of my life to the extent they are now.” Tony stopped to meaningfully catch Peter’s eyes.

“I used to be a professor at Purdue – when the restrictions of the lab became too much, I ditched the academic world and opened up the shop. I’ve been elbows deep in beautiful flowers ever since.” Tony winked in his direction, repeating his words jokingly back to him. “What about you? You cheer and charm unsuspecting old men, I know that. What else do you get up to?”

“You’re the only unsuspecting older guy I want to be charming, don’t you worry,” Peter reassured Tony with a soft chuckle. “When I’m not sweeping you off your feet, I study Philosophy and play a stupid amount of video games. Cheer and all that comes with it takes up a lot of my time, though. Most of my college life has revolved around football games and competitions.”

“Sweeping me off my feet – jeez, Pete,” Tony mumbled. His cheeks were red and the smile he wore spoke of happiness and enjoyment. “I took a couple of Philosophy classes during my undergrad days. What do you plan to do with an entire degree with it?”

A laugh slipped from Peter’s mouth at Tony’s question – though many people asked him that very same thing, no one presented it quite like Tony did. “You’d be surprised by what you can do with a Philosophy degree,” Peter retorted. “I want to be a bioethicist. My minor is Public Health – when I put my cheer shoes away for good, I hope to get a master’s in Bioethics and finally get into the realm I want to be in.”

Tony tilted his head then, his eyes roaming over Peter curiously. “What made you want to get into that? I’m sure there aren’t a lot of young bucks walking into higher education with their sights set on changing the medical world like that.”

Sucking in a long breath, Peter let the question sit on the air for a moment. He swirled the last of his wine in the glass before drinking it. “My parents were in a car accident a couple of days before my 10th birthday. My dad passed away immediately, but my mom – she hung on for an extra couple of days. There was a lot of internal bleeding that they were worried about. In all that worry, they didn’t wait for scan results or blood work to come back before they attempted a new, exploratory surgery. She didn’t make it back out of the operating room.”

Peter paused for a moment, catching his breath. “I was old enough to know someone fucked up and when I looked into it later, I decided I never wanted to let someone feel like I did in a crisis like that. There’s got to be someone who reviews the evidence and makes the ethically just decision to save someone’s life. Why shouldn’t it be me?”

For a second, Peter thought he went a little bit too far – there was a tense moment of silence that felt heavy after revealing something so personal. Peter bit into his bottom lip, not letting himself look up to see whatever reaction existed on Tony’s face. Then, a soft touch brushed across the back of Peter’s hand, Tony’s calloused fingers wrapping around his own. A brief squeeze had Peter looking up, his breath catching at the awe that met him. “I’m sorry to hear about your parents, Pete. Mine aren’t around anymore, either. It’s kind of cliché to say that you saw the deeper meaning of something so tragic, but it’s true. You’re using your pain to make the world better. That’s good shit,” Tony said, his voice hinting at a note of finality – like nothing would change his mind of the thought.

His certainty made Peter feel light, the weight of his emotional burden finally lifting from him after so many years. What a difference it made, to be so easily understood.

That light and airy feeling followed Peter throughout the rest of the evening – he smiled widely as Tony talked about his greenhouse while they shared a small chocolate tart between them. For all that his physical attraction was worth, Peter was genuinely surprised to realize that he felt a personal connection to the florist, too. They led different lives but shared enough similarities to make the time spent together more than worth it. Peter liked Tony and from the looks and subtle touches Tony bestowed upon him all evening, Peter figured Tony might like him, too.

Tony proved that thought to be true when they pulled up in front of his place – “Do you want to come up? I had a really nice time tonight and don’t want it to end.” Tony’s words were said through a saucy smile, his intention more than clear in the look in his eyes.

Peter didn’t hesitate to give his answer – leaning forward, he gripped the side of Tony’s cheeks, using his hold as leverage to pull Tony a little closer. They met in the middle, their lips pressing together softly.

----

Things progressed pretty quickly from there. Tony led Peter up a small flight of stairs into an open room. As expected, plants and flowers were scattered around the place, covering all of the flat surfaces with adequate enough sunlight. A comfortable looking couch and kitchen table took up one corner of the room while a large, king-sized bed took up the rest of the free space of the room. There wasn’t much clutter and all of the things that Tony had, he more than likely used. It was simple and perfect, much like the person who resided there.

Tony didn’t let Peter take in the room for too long – before he could walk around and snoop, Tony’s arms were around Peter’s hips, pulling him close. Peter eagerly met Tony in the middle, their lips sealing together in the delicious slide of tongue and teeth and wet, panted breath. As the kisses deepened and their bodies moved closer to each other, Peter started to impatiently thumb at Tony’s buttons, his palms and fingers running over every inch of bare skin he revealed to the cold air. Tony followed suit; his movements much more impatient than Peter’s were. By the time they made it over to the bed, Tony was pulling down Peter’s pants and boxer briefs. He gladly joined Tony in nakedness before climbing onto the inviting mattress.

“Holy shit, this is comfortable,” Peter babbled absentmindedly, his limbs stretching as far as they could go.

“It’s the one thing I refuse to compromise on. I want to be comfortable when I partake in all the activities a bed is good for,” Tony replied as he climbed onto the bed and fit himself between Peter’s legs. “You’ll be even more impressed in the morning,”

For a while after that, there weren’t any words exchanged. Peter kept his mouth busy by pressing kisses into Tony’s neck and upper chest – Tony’s cologne was prominent, pulling Peter in the more he breathed the delicious smell in. Tony let Peter riddle his skin with marks and spit while he ran his hands all over Peter’s skin. Their hips were lined up and with every thrust Peter made up, Tony rolled his hips down until their cocks brushed delightfully. They were both so caught up in each other that nothing but touching and experiencing actually mattered.

It’d been so long for Peter that he found himself coming to a breathless crescendo fast. After a few minutes of passively letting Peter kiss him, Tony took control of things – his hips set the tempo and his hands and lips laid down the distraction. So overwhelmed from it all, Peter wasn’t aware of how close he was until his orgasm slammed into him out of nowhere. “Oh fuck, Tony! I’m – I’m going to come,” Peter panted out, his body thrumming with life and want and a desire he couldn’t hold back.

“Oh, Tony!” Peter practically screamed a moment later – Tony dirtily rolled his hips to toss him deliciously over the edge.

Panted breath filled the room as Peter rode the high of his orgasm. Tony placed tiny, teasing kisses against any part of Peter’s skin he could reach. Reaching down, Peter gripped the sides of Tony’s face until they were looking at each other – Tony met his eyes with a self-satisfied smirk. “How good is your turnaround time?”

Laughing, Peter leaned forward to give Tony a kiss. His cock was already starting to fill out again – having Tony so close set his body on fire. “Ten minutes at the max,” Peter mumbled after a moment of cataloging his heavy limbs and the desire that was rampaging through them.

“Good. Then you’ll have plenty of time to prep me before you fuck me.”

Lost in the words for a moment, Peter was immobile until Tony tapped his side with a cold lube bottle to get his attention. “You want me to fuck you?” Peter dumbly asked, his mind still trying to catch up.

“Yeah, Pete. I want to feel you inside of me. Your body is trim and fit – I can only imagine how good you’re going to fuck me,” Tony admitted without shame. He moved out of the splay of Peter’s thighs, climbing to his hands and knees, instead.

Not wanting to lose his chance, Peter launched himself into action. He ran his hands over the planes of Tony’s sides and back, tracing the small scars and tiny moles scattered across pale skin. His fingers were eager to categorize and map, but his impatience was too great. Tony pressed back into him, as if he too was starting to feel anxious for what was coming next.

Uncapping the lube, Peter drizzled a good amount onto two of his fingers, pausing just long enough to warm the slick to body temperature. When he felt ready, Peter pressed the tips of both his fingers to Tony’s eagerly waiting hole, tracing and circling the muscle to spread the lube and relax the man he was touching. Little by little, his first finger slipped in without much resistance. Tony bared down against him and let the digit slip all the way in until the webbing of Peter’s finger stopped him.

Now that the warm heat was wrapped around him, Peter wanted to take his time, letting Tony get used to the feeling while he explored and reached. Tony’s entire body jolted forward when Peter finally found that delicate nub.

“Shit – do that again!” Tony shouted; his voice laced with a breathy moan.

Unable to do anything but give into what they both wanted, Peter continued his ministrations, teasing Tony with one, two, and then three fingers. He scissored and pressed against the edge of Tony’s rim, loosening the muscle as he went. When he pressed inside, Peter caressed Tony’s insides, just barely pressing against his prostate until Tony was humping back with exaggerated impatience.

“I’m good, Pete. I’m good. Please, I want you,” Tony pleaded as he reached back and felt around for whatever lenght of Peter’s skin he could reach.

Completely hard once again, Peter was more than ready to feel Tony wrapped around him – after an easy orgasm already, Peter knew he’d be able to make their coupling worth it. Opening the tube of lube again, Peter drizzled more of it directly onto the length of his cock, and then a bit more around Tony’s rim. He stroked himself a couple of times, then shifted until the head of his cock could drag through the lube coating Tony’s skin.

He teased them both for a moment, tracing Tony’s rim with the wet head of his cock to ramp up that initial moment of anticipation. Peter kept up his antics until his own body couldn’t take it any longer – every part of him craved the warm embrace of Tony’s hole. With that thought in mind, Peter used one of his hands to grip Tony’s hip, using his hold to pull the other man back against him as he thrust forward. Breaching the muscle felt like coming home – he threw his head back with a rough groan; maybe he wouldn’t last as long as he initially thought.

“Tony, Tony, Tony – you feel fucking amazing,” Peter panted through clenched teeth, his body fighting hard against the need to thrust forward and take, take, take.

Tony reached back to grab at Peter’s hand on his hip to tangle their fingers together, instead. They shared a few breaths while Tony got used to the stretch of Peter within him, the mere connection between them radiating a different sort of heat while they waited.

Finally, Peter felt Tony relax around him enough for his hips to draw back and press forward without much effort. He kept his thrusts slow to start; his cock was throbbing from the realization that it was Tony below him – picking up the pace was a sure-fire way to end things a lot quicker than either of them wanted. When Tony started to thrust back against him, however, Peter lost more and more of his control. His hips snapped forward, their skin slapping together to make a loud sound that echoed around the room. With every thrust in, Tony moved with him – the tip of Peter’s cock was poised to press perfectly against Tony’s prostate every time.

Between the sounds dripping from Tony’s mouth and the delightful squeeze around his length, Peter was a few thrusts away from slipping over the edge once more. He tried to shift so he could wrap his fingers around Tony’s cock to get him there too, but he was met with a long stare over Tony’s shoulder – dark hazel eyes were on fire, pushing him to thrust harder and forget everything else. Tony’s body was taut, obviously strung out and seconds away from breaking apart. Finally understanding, Peter straightened out his chest, gripped Tony’s hips in both hands, and let himself go.

In the end, it was hard to decide who tumbled over the edge first. Tony shouted Peter’s name and tightened impossibly tight around him. The extra stimulus was the perfect thing to bring the heat in Peter’s belly to an overflowing boiling point. He tucked his head into the sweaty length of Tony’s neck and groaned, Tony’s name and fuck and unintelligible noises added to the symphony their joining created around the room.

Managing to just barely turn Tony as his body collapsed, Peter hit the mattress hard – his cock slipped out of the blissful heat, dragging a long groan from the depth of Peter’s chest. Being inside of Tony already felt like home; both his body and his heart were convinced. Wrapping his arm around Tony’s hip to compensate, Peter snuggled into the man’s sweaty back, keeping their bodies close.

“I – Tony. That was…” Peter started to mutter, his brain still not back online like the rest of him. Tony looked over his shoulder, affection and appreciation alive in the hazel of his eyes. They shared a heated stare as Tony pulled Peter’s hand more firmly across his chest – they didn’t need words in that moment, merely touching and existing in the same orbit was more than enough.

----

After that first passionate night, Peter spent almost all of his free time with Tony. With the shop being so close to campus, it was easy to lean on Tony’s close proximity and the joyful happiness Peter felt whenever they were together. The natural way their lives just sort of combined with each other proved how right they were for each other. Where others were wrapped up in the time Peter spent away from them, Tony enjoyed the fact that they led separate lives. Peter got to keep cheerleading and Tony at the same time without the two battling against each other. He didn’t know it before Tony came into his life, but that level of acceptance was everything Peter needed from another person to both excel and feel happiness.

Before Peter knew it, four months were behind them – though it hadn’t been that long, most of Peter’s things took up space in Tony’s apartment and every thought Peter had revolved around the life he was trying to create with the older man. He even took the time to learn more about Tony’s body of work – they spent many of their afternoons together in the backyard with Tony working the greenhouse while Peter practiced tumbling or simply watched his boyfriend in his element. Peter couldn’t recall another person making him feel so dumbfounded playing in the dirt the way Tony did – it wouldn’t matter what the man did, either; Peter would find something to be amazed about.

It was Tony that drew him in; his personality, thoughts, and the eager way he gave back to Peter spoke to a part of himself that he never knew existed.

Which was how he found himself nervously awaiting Tony’s arrival at the Purdue football stadium – aside from MJ and Darcy, Tony’s appearance at the football game would be the first time any of his friends met the older man. The fall, much like Peter, was a busy time of the year for Tony. Between weddings, showers, and parties, Tony’s weekends were filled to the brim. The homecoming game was the first game that the home schedule actually lined up with Tony’s off day. He couldn’t wait for Tony to watch him do the thing he loved in the uniform he felt proud to wear. Selfishly, he wanted to see that same sort of pride radiating from the person he’d fallen in love with.

The forty minutes they were trapped in the locker room before the game started felt like torture – his phone vibrated against his thigh a couple of minutes after they headed in from warm-ups. Tony was navigating the stadium’s security to get to the sideline spot Peter secured for him. When they walked back onto the field, Tony would be there eagerly waiting for him.

Finally, the performance lights flickered, and they were ushered to their usual entrance. The large black and gold flag he carried in his hands was lighter than usual – his excitement pumped through him, the dopamine of happiness causing a rush of energy. As the announcer pumped up the crowd, Peter caught the eyes of his teammates around him, sharing the hype he felt.

Running across the thick white lines never felt better – by the time he crossed center field, Peter caught sight of Tony in the corner. His boyfriend was clapping loudly, the honey-hazel of his eyes glued to Peter’s every move. The familiar feeling that Tony’s love created in him spread through Peter’s chest, showing itself off as a giant, beaming smile.

They didn’t get much of a chance to talk throughout the first half of the game – Peter’s stunt group was responsible for the spirit stuff for the first and second quarter. Instead, Peter sent Tony messages with his eyes, showing off his skills and tumbling talents whenever he could. It was almost better that way – Tony got to experience Peter in his element without any pressure to respond. The crowd going wild around them only added to the experience. For once, Peter got to put on the show.

When Peter got to wander off after the half-time performance, he was wrapped up in a bear-hug the second Tony could get his arms around him. Peter was covered in sweat and glitter and the annoying little turf beads that always stuck to his skin, but Tony didn’t seem to care. The older man picked him up, spinning him around excitedly. “Pete, you’re so talented. I about shit my pants when you back flipped for so long down the field, but damn – the skill you possess,” Tony gushed, tucking his face into Peter’s neck to calm himself down.

Not wanting to lose the upbeat energy, Peter cupped Tony’s cheeks in both of his hands. Tony leaned into the touch, tilting his head back to look at him. “I’m so happy you’re here,” Peter started, leaning forward to steal a quick kiss. “I’ve been on point all day because of you. I can feel you watching me – I want to be good for you.” The last words were whispered in his ear, the impact of them hitting Peter hard across his lower back as Tony wrapped him up and pulled him close.

“You’re the only thing I see,” Tony mumbled back, his tone all the sudden low and gravelly.

After leaning in to give Tony a heated kiss, Peter forced himself to pull back – he stepped out of Tony’s embrace completely. If he stayed there any longer, he wouldn’t make it back to the locker room at all. Smirking in Tony’s direction, Peter thrust his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ve got to go, or I’ll never leave. See you after?”

“I’ll meet you out front,” Tony said with a nod, his anxious hands reaching out to squeeze Peter’s hand once more. “Keep kicking ass, Pete.”

His role during the third and fourth quarter was a lot more passive than the first half of the game. Since the Boilers were up more than two touchdowns, a lot of the crowd left after the first few minutes of the third quarter – that meant the younger stunters and less experienced tumblers got to have some time on the field. To stop himself from straying over towards Tony, Peter put all of his effort into helping his littles. It didn’t work nearly as well as he figured it might, but he got through the rest of the game with minimal distraction.

Hayley’s speech was inspirational and moving like usual – they were done with football home games for the season and their success was obvious and highlighted in her moving words. The next couple of months of the season were the calm before the storm and they were all looking forward to the small break basketball games posed for them. Competition season started after the holidays and no rest would be spared. Though he always appreciated her words, Peter wished for them to quickly come to an end.

Before he even finished the thought, Hayley was circling them up, calling out the cheer that they all echoed back. As he shifted to move out of the circle, a firm grip stopped him. “I believe this is for you,” Hayley said, handing over a classic red rose.

“Hayley, who’s this from?” Peter asked, trying his best to tamper down the hope that maybe Tony was the stupidly romantic culprit.

With a knowing smile, Hayley shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, “He said you’d know.”

Pulling the rose to his chest, Peter ducked his nose to sniff at the crisp petals. It was de-thorned and freshly cut – Tony’s markers were all over the beautiful gesture. His cheeks were already sore from all the beaming he’d been doing all night, the face splitting smile only made it worse. Despite that, Peter wore it throughout his post-game routine and out the door where he ran directly into MJ.

“MJ! What are you doing here?” Peter threw his arms around her then, careful not to crush the flower still in his hand.

Thin arms returned the hug – MJ brought him tightly to her chest with a hard squeeze. It’d been a few weeks since they’d seen each other. Seeing her standing there, Peter realized it’d been too long.

“I couldn’t miss homecoming. I am an alumna after all,” MJ replied, her wide eyes never leaving him. Watching her closely, Peter felt a gasp leave his lips when she brought another classic red rose up, running the flower under her nose. “This needed delivering, too.”

Peter gripped the rose lightly, tucking it against the other one in his hand. Each of the petals were perfect and from the small lessons he got from Tony whenever they handled the clipped flowers, Peter knew what the giving of classic red roses meant. It only seemed right that Tony clued him in that way.

“Don’t fuck this up, Peter. I really like him, too,” MJ remarked as she moved in to press a soft kiss on his cheek. He kept her close for a moment, simply soaking in her presence. “He’s waiting for you out front. Go get your man, Pete.”

A soft laugh left his lips, MJ said that to him when she first learned about his date with Tony. It wasn’t lost on him how full circle everything felt. The rightness of being with Tony existed in every aspect of his life – each little sign made the delirious heat in his chest burn that much brighter.

Giving MJ one more squeeze, Peter broke away to quickly make his way towards the front of the stadium where Tony was waiting for him. He wasn’t sure what he did to deserve such a sweet display of affection – Tony knew Peter appreciated the simple day to day life they were slowly creating with each other. At the same time, Peter’s heart was hammering in his chest at the thought that Tony deemed him worthy of such a gesture.

Peter found Tony leaning up against one of the large pillars just outside the exit doors. In the darkness, the honey color of his eye shone like melted pools of gold. Narrowing the distance between them became the only thing on Peter’s mind, he picked up his pace and practically threw himself in Tony’s arms.

The sigh along the length his neck made Peter tuck in a little tighter against Tony, his heart pounding with affection. He pulled back before the roses in his hand could get squished in the intensity of their embrace. Peter brought the flowers to his nose, keeping Tony’s eye as he did. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Peter sing-songed, grinning at the flush that spread over Tony’s cheeks with every word.

Tony nodded at him, tilting his head with a mischievous look of his own. “It looks like you’re missing one, though,” Tony remarked. The long stem in his hand was darker than the others, symbolizing love yet to be realized. Their fingers brushed as Peter took it, his brow quirked in intrigue.

“I love you, Pete. I’ve known since you walked through the door of my shop that you were special. Every second with you has made my life just a little bit better. I know it hasn’t been that long, but I’m mad about you. Over the fucking moon.” Tony walked into his space then, his hands cupping Peter’s cheeks.

Surging forward, Peter caught Tony’s lips in a passionate kiss, their noses bumping in the process. They sipped from each other’s mouths until the need to breath became pressing. Instead of pulling away, Peter leaned his forehead against Tony’s, closing his eyes to revel in the contentment that wrapped around them both. After a couple of shared breaths, Peter blinked to catch Tony’s eye. “I love you too, Tony,” Peter whispered back.

With a wide grin, Tony leaned in again, mumbling “I know” against Peter’s lips.

#starker #Peter Parker/Tony Stark #sfsummerbingo21 #bobbie writes #it takes me all the way #starker fic

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lilbabycee · 4 years

Text

tatiana // steve rogers 🌸

↳ summary: you've made a series of mistakes concerning steve and you're not going to stop now, although these mistakes may leave you in some unprecedented circumstances.

↳ relationship: soft dark!steve rogers x reader

↳ word count: 5.4k (i got carried away with this one)

↳ warnings: explicit smut, mildly dubious consent, emotional manipulation, cockwarming, dad!steve

↳ author’s note: some more soft dark steve bc we all need it 🤤 this may be one of my favorite steve fics i’ve ever written, so please enjoy! 💖

The white doves that tell the tales residing inside the heavy book that weighs down your lap flutter downwards, blowing little wisps of air onto your skin as your fingers slacken and the cover of the hardback hits the pages with a soft thud. Perched on the edge of the too-big queen-sized bed with the too-soft mattress, you take a second to breathe deeply, cherishing these moments of peace because these breaths haven’t come easy to you recently. Your head falls into one of your hands, your bones as exhausted as your mind. You have to remember that it’s ten in, hold for five, and ten out just like he taught you, but the thought escapes you as your lungs struggle to intake air in anything but huge, gasping breaths. It feels like someone is sitting on your chest, a weight so heavy having settled where your heart should be, dragging your body further to the ground than gravity.

But you’re unable to help the sincere albeit shaky smile on your face when you admire her, your breathing starting to even out until it’s shallow and steady. Round cheeks squished against the pillow, one of her chubby little hands gripping your sleeve and the other tucked underneath her head, she’s a vision - truly a beacon of light in what is otherwise a neverending spiral into darkness. Carefully and with all of the finesse that your shaking hands can muster, you pry her fingers off of your sleeve one by one, although you know that the chances of her waking up are slim. You love telling her that she can sleep through an earthquake or a hurricane because it always - without fail - elicits that same sweet little giggle from the sleeping girl in front of you and a whiny “Mama!” , her beaming smile enough to warm your heart for the rest of your life.

Tatiana’s long eyelashes - all too reminiscent of her daddy’s - fan against her face while she dozes, her mouth wide open and her soft snores the only sound in the room. Her closed eyes shield you from the most disarming baby blues that never let you forget exactly who her father is, and the thought alone makes the blood pumping your heart run cold, an involuntarily shudder passing through you at the feeling.

He’s just over in the next room and you know it - the apartment is almost entirely silent but you know. He’s waiting, expecting you, knowing that you’ll come to see him at the end of the night. Tatiana’s enthusiasm and your insistence upon reading her to sleep hopefully went unnoticed by him - being alone in a room with him always makes your skin crawl and your heart beat erratically but you know that he can smell the arousal that pools between your thighs regardless of the attitude that you give him on the surface.

Not wanting him to come and look for you, you decide that you’ve spent enough time in this massive bedroom - a converted guest room - that’s far too large for a 3-and-a-half-year-old. You lean down over your baby, hand coming up to brush a thumb over her cheek and then run a hand through over the top of her head, pushing the stray baby hairs out of her face. You make sure to place the book on her nightstand so that you don’t have a fiasco like the last time that you couldn’t find it. It ended up underneath the couch and your daughter was in a mood for the whole day, pouting and sulking when her father told her that he couldn’t find it. It was a gift that was given to you by her favorite uncle, Tony, when she was born: Grimm’s Fairy Tales. Tony considers it essential in developing her love for reading and stories at an early age, and you didn’t argue, the gift so sweet and thoughtful that you make sure to read at least a little to her every night. Making sure to turn her nightlight on, you rise and head to the door, looking back over your shoulder one more time to see her cocooned in her blanket and being swallowed by her mattress. The image alone makes a chuckle rise in your throat and you shake your head before flipping the light switch and closing the door.

Your back is pressed against the hard lines of Tatiana’s door, and your gaze falls on the one at the end of the hallway. It’s been left ajar, almost as if he’s inviting you inside. You know that you shouldn’t - common sense is telling you that you should steer clear of that room for the sole reason that you know exactly what or rather who lays in their bed behind it. Before you even realize what’s happening, a deep baritone is summoning you to, “Come in”.

Silently, you curse yourself, aware that it’s too late to take back any chance of escape that you may have had prior to this, but you press your palm against the white wood of the door so that it slowly slides open. The sight that greets you makes you want to claw at your skin as much as you want to claw at his. The idea of vertical red lines scratched down his back makes you bite your lip and really assess the gorgeous man stretched out in front of you.

At a closer listen, you’re aware that he’s actually been playing music, soft jazz melodies floating through the air that ease your anxiety just a little. His bed is directly across from the door and obnoxiously large and comfortable - it used to be covered in pillows and have a softer mattress and extra blankets, but that was before you moved out. Now, the pillows are somewhere in a closet, as are the blankets, and the mattress is significantly harder than it used to be, although not uncomfortable. But the bed isn’t what’s making your mouth water and a fire ignite in your stomach. It’s the man atop it.

He’s stretched out like some kind of god - picture Dionysus - with the bone structure and physique of Adonis, and you think that if the heavens opened up right now and took him back you wouldn’t bat a single eyelash. The only sources of light in the room are the twin lamps that emanate a bright, white light. The light catches all of the planes and angles of his face, the shadows and highlights alike showing you all of his best features. And he’s absolutely the picture of relaxation, back leaning against the headboard, right hand behind his head and the left holding a book.

He’s only wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt that’s slightly rucked up to show the line of abdominal hair that leads down to what you really want, but he may as well have been wearing nothing because you wouldn’t be able to tear your eyes off of this man if you tried. And even from the few meters that separate the two of you, you can feel the intensity of his blue gaze behind his glasses - it always feels like he’s stripping you slowly, carefully, methodically in his mind. Not only is it disconcerting but it makes you feel things that you can only associate with uncomfortable desire. His eyebrow quirks up and the hand that was behind his head slowly slides his glasses down the bridge of his perfect nose until they drop to his side. His lips quirk up into a smug little smirk that you simultaneously want to punch and kiss off his face.

“Hey,” he says your name like a prayer, lips wrapping around the sound and it draws you into the room - you’re almost floating towards him.

You swallow, willing yourself to say something instead of just standing there, staring at him like an idiot. Relaxing your stance, one of your hands finds your hip and the other runs over your hair that you’re sure is a mess from playing with your daughter earlier.

“Hi,” you reply quietly, almost a whisper. He mirrors you, running a hand through his golden hair and then over his clean-shaven jaw - Tatiana prefers it that way.

“She asleep?”

You nod, finding yourself on the edge of his bed as he puts his book face down next to him. Inhaling deeply, he runs his large hands over his powerful thighs and even that small motion has you distracted and you squeeze your own thighs together, shaking your head disapprovingly at yourself. Absent-mindedly, your hand comes up to toy with the pendant of the simple necklace that you always wear, and you watch Steve’s eyes as they follow your movements. They zero in on your exposed décolletage and darken, his tongue running over his plush pink lower lip again. Pulling his phone from underneath his pillow, he makes a point of checking it before glancing back up at you.

“What?”

“You checked the time, sweetheart?”

At the shake of your head, he flips his phone around to show you that it’s four minutes past midnight.

“Shit, are you kidding me?” you groan almost childishly, rising hastily and making your way towards the door. “I’ve got work tomorrow - I wasn’t supposed to stay this late.”

“Hey, hey,” Steve quickly moves to stand up and placate you, rounding the bed to come and stand in front of you with his hands out. “It’s not your fault - Tati was excited to see you, you can’t blame her… or yourself for that matter. She’s been asking about you for weeks now, talkin’ everybody’s ear off about it. She doesn’t get to see us all the time, you know that-”

You know it all too well. Frankly, you’re proud of your success - there’s no reason that you shouldn’t be. You were lucky enough to land a key internship at Stark Industries as a college student that really gave you a leg up in a lot of your future professional life. You were already set to inherit what is now your publishing company from your father, but you were unsure about whether or not that was something that you wanted to devote your life to. Sooner rather than later, something clicked for you and that was when you decided to pick up your father’s life’s work, reassuring him that it would be left in capable hands so that he could eventually retire peacefully. Not that he doesn’t still hover because he does, giving you advice whether you want it or not and making final decisions in places where you’re torn. Initially, there was a lot of discontent within the company concerning your father’s replacement: he is something of a legend in the publishing world and even you were terrified that you wouldn’t be able to live up to their expectations. You had to prove that you deserved to have the CEO position that your father appointed you to, show people and yourself, more importantly, that you were worth being there as much as any other employee. It took some years, but you love your job, so much so in fact that your mother - a former dentist - is often concerned that you’re working yourself to an early grave.

Unfortunately, this leaves little time for you to spend with your family, especially your daughter. Your job requires an exorbitant amount of international travel, meaning that your house barely looks like a home because most weeks, it’s empty.

Sighing, the thought in itself makes a grey cloud hang over your head to shroud you in despondency. Steve notices and the corners of his lips turn downwards as he boldly approaches you and gently grabs your upper arms. His touch in itself makes you soften and he dips his head to try and catch your eyes. When he does, he gives you a crooked, boyish smile that makes the crease in your eyebrows disappear and your lips curve into a shy grin.

“I know it’s part of your job,” Steve’s voice drops even further, hands rubbing up and down your arms, thumbs stroking the cotton of your shirt. “But she misses you… why don’t you just stay over?”

This makes you freeze in place and try and free yourself from his grip, but he only tightens it, that same compassionate look in his eyes.

“Baby,” before you can reprimand him for using the pet name, he anticipates your next words and shushes you so that he can continue, “I bet Tati would love to see you when she wakes up tomorrow morning. Imagine the look on her face - she’d be overjoyed. Just think about it.”

You know what he’s doing and still attempt to wrestle free, but his hold on you is solid though it doesn’t tighten any further.

“Steve,” you sigh in what sounds like defeat and you can see the spark of hope ignite in his eyes. “You know why I have to get home. I’ll come back tomorrow - I’ve got the whole week here before I head out again-”

“But then what?” he says your name pleadingly, though his tone sounds almost accusatory. “I could be gone on a mission at any time and then some of the team has to take care of her - or your parents, or your sister, or your brother. Look, I try to be here as much as I can but I’m not planning to hang up the shield for a few more years-”

“And I’m not expecting you to, I never said I was, Steve,” you fire back, taking a step towards him with your arms still pinned by your sides. “I get that your missions are unpredictable and unexpected - you can’t help that - but there’s no way that I can lose these clients overseas, especially since I basically just got this position-”

“So you’re saying that you’re prioritizing your job over our daughter?” his voice rises slightly, but his eyes don’t harden at all.

“That’s- are you kidding me? That’s not at all what I’m saying. I want to provide financial stability that’s enough for the rest of her life and with both of us working, she’ll have more than enough for her and her kids and probably her kids’ kids. God, why would you even -”

“You know what she told me yesterday?”

This makes the fire within you die down just a little, your heart skipping a beat when you register the intensity of his gaze and the gravity of his words. You swallow, hands starting to clam up and lips starting to quiver. He knew what reaction this would give you, effectively shutting you up.

“Wh-what- I mean, you know...what did she say?”

Steve suddenly looks away from you, releasing your arms and pacing, turning his back to you. Letting out a distressed sigh, he shoves his hands deep into his mop of blonde hair, planting himself on the edge of the bed and shaking his head.

“I shouldn’t have said anything- I’m sorry, it’s not my place-”

His voice is quiet but also muffled by his hands, but now he’s piqued your curiosity so you can’t just let this go - especially because it concerns the single most important person in your life. Without thinking, you rush over, getting on your knees before him, right in between his open legs. Tentatively, your hands land on his knees and your thumbs trace small circles where they lay.

“Steve,” you call out softly. Nothing happens for a moment - he remains silent and the jazz song is underscored by his ragged breathing. The feeling of nervousness that already set in your stomach drops further and further, blood running like fire once again through your veins. When he finally does look up at you, he looks torn, like a lost golden retriever. He knows very well what that look does to you and you’re more than aware of it yourself, yet you find that you are unable to look away from those eyes that mirror those of your daughter so perfectly.

He says your name quietly, his significantly larger hand covering one of yours that rest on his knee. Though you hate to admit it to yourself, it makes the suspense of the situation so much more bearable.

“It’s just,” Steve hesitates, unable to maintain eye contact with you and sitting up from his hunched position, “she asked me why you were never here…”

Your heart sinks, another lump stuck in your throat.

“And you said…?”

“A-All I did was tell her the truth,” he shrugs, exhaling another shaky breath before looking at you with glassy eyes, “I told her that you’re really busy with work all the time, but every time you’re not at work, you’re trying your best to spend all your time with her.”

Steeling yourself not to cry, you look away from his face and lower your gaze to stare at the carpet.

Ten in, hold for five, ten out.

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” you say lightheartedly, knowing full-well that there’s more to it. Steve manages a chuckle, but it sounds forced so you decide to shut up and listen.

“But then she said that it was okay because she has Nat instead.”

There it was.

You’ve always known that your daughter has been brutally honest - as all children often are - but this is a pain unlike anything that you’ve felt before. Your fingers come up to your chest to clutch at your breast, dying to massage away the aching of your heart. Hot trails of fire spill onto your cheeks and the moment that Steve registers them, he takes advantage of your position on the floor and tucks his hands underneath your arms to drag you up to sit on his lap like a doll.

You’re curled up on top of your ex-fiancé’s thighs, his hand pressing the side of your head into his hard but surprisingly comfortable shoulder, and you’re sobbing your fucking eyes out at the harsh but very real words of your three-and-a-half-year-old daughter. Steve says your name comfortingly and wraps his arms tightly around your body, rocking you back and forth while he shushes you and whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

It definitely hurts to hear: the hectic, distant, fast-paced and frankly insane life that you’ve been trying to convince yourself isn’t your reality is indeed the truth and even your daughter can recognize that. You’re ashamed of yourself, Steve’s kind words only making you feel so much worse.

Between sobs, you attempt to explain yourself but Steve just keeps quieting you, rubbing circles into your back. All he says is ten in, hold for five, ten out.

Once you’ve calmed down a little, you realize the vulnerable spot that you’re in - one you shouldn’t be in. You squirm in his arms like you’re about to get up but once again, he holds you firmly in place.

“I need to head out, Steve- I’ve gotta get some time alone to think about-”

“Or,” he draws out the word, voice having hardened significantly, “you could stay here and when our daughter comes to wake me up in the morning, she’ll find you here too.”

Jerking your head back, you’re genuinely shocked at his audacity.

“Steve, let’s get this straight,” you start, feeling much more confident and calm than before, “if I’m staying here, we are absolutely not sleeping in the same room. We’re not having a repeat of what happened the last time-”

“And what was so bad about the last time, hmm, sweetheart?”

He runs his index finger over your jawline, dragging it down the length of your neck and down to your exposed collarbones.

“If I do recall,” his voice is much quieter but also deeper, “you thoroughly enjoyed what we did the last time.”

His one arm keeps you anchored to him, the other moving from your chest to cup behind your neck and pull you to meet his lips.

“Steve-”

Your protests die in your throat as you feel his soft lips on you, your eyes fluttering shut as he starts to press wet, open-mouthed kisses on your throat. He works his way up to underneath your ear, biting in places that you know you should be worried about him marking before he nips at your earlobe with his perfect teeth and traces the outer shell of your ear with his tongue. It makes you whimper softly, the sound making your eyes shoot open and snapping you out of whatever trance he’s put you in, your spine going rigid.

“We’re not doing this,” you say firmly, placing your hands flat on his chest and pushing backward. He looks resigned but nods, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head instead.

“Fine, but I still insist that you stay here,” he presses. “Not for me, but for Tatiana - think of her. She’ll love it.”

Biting your lip, you consider it for a moment before sucking your teeth and staring heavenwards.

What’s the worst that could happen? And if it’s just so that Tatiana can see you with her in the morning, it’s more than worth having to deal with Steve for a night.

“Okay, fine- fine. You’re gonna need to let me borrow some clothes. If I’d known that this was the plan, I would’ve packed more appropriately.”

Steve’s self-satisfied smirk irks you and he shifts you off of his lap, standing up so that he can disappear inside his walk-in to search for something for you to wear. You can’t help but notice that as he’s walking, he has to adjust the crotch of his sweatpants which aren’t really hiding anything. You clear your throat and look away, the heat that previously ran throughout your body all settles in your core.

Something that smells suspiciously like Steve - soap, pine, lavender and something citrusy - smacks you in the face, making you scowl when the clothing falls to reveal a grinning Steve who looks very pleased with himself leaning against the closet door.

“C’mon,” he gestures to you with one hand, the other shoved in his pocket. “I’d love to get some sleep, so get changed.”

He turns on his heel and heads to another door on the other side of the room, walking inside as he yells, “And make sure to let people know that you aren’t gonna be in tomorrow. We’ve got plans, doll.”

Plans?

The door clicks behind him, and you heave a deep sigh, wanting to fall through the bed. Quickly, you disrobe, folding your clothes and placing them onto one of the armchairs in the corner of his room next to the record player. Looking at what he brought you, you shake your head in incredulity.

This cheeky motherfucker.

He’s only brought you a t-shirt - a white one with the Captain America insignia on the back, the same one that you bought for him as a joke on the first birthday of his that you spent together. You purposely made sure that it was loose enough for you to wear to bed by itself too because he wears all of his t-shirts in a size too small - not that you’d ever complain - and you hated grabbing one of his shirts, putting it on, and finding that it fit you just like one of your own.

You pull it over your head and look back to the empty space on the bed.

No shorts either.

You scold yourself because you should’ve known that he’d pull something like this. But he’s promised that things won’t go to levels that you’re not comfortable with, so you just sleeping in your panties and this t-shirt should be fine.

Maybe?

Entering the bathroom, Steve hands you the toothbrush that he keeps here for you, his own buzzing in his mouth, and you thank him silently with your eyes as you take it from him. Your eyes travel up his body, narrowing because he’s taken off his shirt and his sweatpants, and he is only wearing a pair of grey Calvins, distracting you and making even more moisture pool between your thighs. Steve evidently notices your not-so-subtle staring and tries to hide his smile under the guise of brushing with renewed vigor.

Get a hold of yourself.

The two of you finish up in the bathroom, Steve walking behind you and burning holes into your bare thighs. He turns off both of the lights on either side of his bed as you crawl underneath the heavy comforter, curling in on yourself. You turn away from him, hoping that it indicates that you’re not up for talking and just want to sleep. He moves around a little bit before getting in with you, and suddenly your space is crowded by pillows?

He remembered.

It makes the butterflies in your belly that have been dormant for a long time start to wake up.

Rearranging the pillows in the fashion that you like, you try and put today’s events behind you and make a silent vow to yourself that you will do better, you will try harder to become a better and more present mother to your daughter.

In fact, you’re so absorbed in your thoughts that sleep begins to pull you into its clutches, your eyes drooping lower and lower until your breathing evens out and you’re just on the cusp of it when a strong, hard body molds itself against your back. Any semblance of sleep that you felt just moments ago slips away, your eyes widening.

“What are you doing -”

His hand clamps around your mouth, promptly cutting you off before his other warm hand runs down your front, down your t-shirt before creeping underneath, all while leaving a trail of fire in his wake. You’re thrashing now, knowing that your efforts will be futile because as much as you can tell yourself you don’t want this, it’s everything that you’ve ever wanted.

It was a mistake like this that gave you the best thing to ever happen to you.

His lips touch your ear at the same time his hand flicks your peaked nipple, making you buck your hips back into him. “Oh, sweetheart, look at you.”

He gropes at your breast for another few seconds, his gentle yet firm grip doing nothing to ease the desire that you have for him. A sharp pinch to your nipple sends a lightning bolt right to your cunt. It then moves even further downwards, past down your belly button, hovering over where you need him the most.

“So needy, aren’t you, baby?”

He slips the fingertip of his index finger underneath the band of the lace, snapping it so that you gasp against his hand.

“I’ve been able to smell you all night,” he buries his face in your neck, inhaling deeply and the groan from deep within his chest vibrates against your back. Arching your back into him, he uses both of his hands to push your hips into his, hooking his thumbs over the band of your panties and sliding the rest of his fingers underneath. “You wet for me, sweetheart?”

You can do nothing but nod - this is a mistake but you wish that every mistake that you ever made felt this good.

“Good girl,” you can hear his grin while he removes his hands and his index finger slides against your covered core. “This all for me?”

You nod again and he moans loud , louder than the sounds of your desperate panting. The jazz record continues to spin on the needle.

Slowly, he runs a finger up and down your folds, feeling the slick that has dampened your panties. He thrusts up into your ass in response, wasting no more time.

“Please-”

You choke out the word, needing him to extinguish the flames that he’s ignited inside of you.

“It’s okay, doll - I got you.”

And he does, yanking down his underwear over his cock and wrapping his hand around the base. In your eagerness, you shove your own panties down your hips, causing Steve to rumble a laugh and click his tongue at you.

“Baby,” he exhales, evidently amused at your whiny demeanor. “Did you really think you could trick me? Comin’ in here, all shy and nervous but still tempting me… knowing exactly what you’re doin’, hmm? You wanna be a family again, sweetheart?”

With this, he guides the head of his dick to your entrance, rubbing up and down the sensitive skin, taking his time. And in all the time that you’ve known him, Steve is not the type to be patient.

“All you had to do was ask.”

And then he slams into you - really and truly because you jerk forward at his powerful thrust, eyes watering at the sensation. He’s so big that the stretch precariously toes the line between pain and pleasure but just falls on the side of being enjoyable. The sound of skin slapping sin is lewd and filthy and you love it.

Steve’s deft fingers quickly find your clit and press down, rubbing circles into the small nub. Coupled with Steve’s labored breathing and moans in your ear, it doesn’t take you long to be right on the edge of your peak.

“I can feel you, doll,” he whispers, teeth grazing your ear once again. “You gonna cum for me, make a mess all over my dick?”

You nod frantically, unable to speak, eyes squeezed shut.

“No, no, no, baby,” he breathes. “Look at me while I make you cum - I want you to know who’s making you feel this good. Tell me who’s about to make you cum, baby.”

Opening your eyes, he flips you around so that you’re facing him, throwing one of your legs over his and he does it all without ceasing his motions. Your body warms in embarrassment, however because you’re chasing your release, you swallow any pride that you may have and give him what he wants.

“You are-”

An exceptionally hard thrust makes you squeal and Steve grunts in disappointment. He’s got one arm encircled around your waist, the other gripping your throat bruisingly tight.

“I didn’t fucking hear you, sweetheart.”

“You are,” you try a bit louder, your ability to form coherent sentences significantly impaired.

“What was that, doll?”

“You are,” you yell emphatically, the pressure being applied to your clit temporarily pushing the words out of your mouth in exactly the way you know he likes it.

He bounces you on his cock, pulling you into a heated kiss before drastically increasing his speed, every thrust upwards poking at your g-spot.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he licks a stripe up your throat and your hands scramble to find purchase on his slick skin. Your nails dig into his back, painting those thin crimson lines he likes so much. “Just like that.”

A strangled moan crawls out of your throat but he shushes you, squeezing your neck tighter.

“I know, I know,” he soothes. “Cum for me, doll.”

And so you do - your thighs quiver and your lips part wide in a silent scream, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your muscles contract around Steve’s dick which sets off his own orgasm but almost stubbornly, he keeps his eyes on your blissed-out face while he spills his own release into you.

Once the two of you come down from your high, your heart racing and your breath erratic, Steve’s tight embrace does nothing to quell your growing anxiety at what the fuck you’ve just done - again.

“Should keep you like this forever,” Steve pulls you into the heated skin of his chest and buries his face into the space between your shoulder and your neck. His cock is still buried inside of you. “Fucked full of my cock for the rest of your life. I bet you’d like that, baby.”

His words make tears spring to your eyes - guilt - and you can’t even give him a response, so all he does is exhale deeply, kissing the top of your head and settling into the sea of pillows around you.

“Night, sweetheart.”

And then he promptly falls asleep, no more words exchanged between the two of you. Truly you can do nothing more but wrap your arms around his neck, the weight of him inside you making it difficult for you to get comfortable, and try to get some rest. The jazz record slowly starts to come to a close.

The moonlight shines through the slits of Steve’s blinds, depicting white horizontal lines across his back. It makes him look like art, you think, running your hands slowly up and down his bare skin. As you do, the light catches on the ostentatious rock on your ring finger.

↳ tagged: @literaturefeen

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guardianspirits13 · 3 years

Text

In a more thorough extension of this post, I want to on elaborate specifically on the true cause behind Touya’s ‘death’ and what led him to where he is now.

There are three main theories:

1. Touya faked his death to escape his abusive household

2. It was a legitimate training accident

3. /s*icide tw/ Touya attempted to take his own life

Right off the bat, the first one is easy to debunk. Not only would it be very unlikely for a 13-something-year-old to believably fake his death with all the modern technology available, but between his extensive scarring and a legitimate piece of his jaw bone being found there is no way it was all just a hoax.

The second explanation, that at least Endeavor believes to be legitimate, is that it was a ‘training accident’. I find this hard to believe for many reasons. We don’t know if Endeavor actually continued to train Touya after Shouto got his quirk, but even if Touya tried to train himself he would know very well that a 2000 degree inferno would be way too much for him to handle. This is more than just ‘pushing his limits’ even thought we know Touya to be self-destructive. Even if he did legitimately lose control of his flames, there is no reason that he couldn’t have escaped.

And lastly, if this was a legitimate accident and Touya was not trying to escape, then why wouldn’t he have gone to his family for help after being burned so severely, or telling them that he’s okay after he got help otherwise?

Which brings me to my final point. We know the thing that broke Touya was being cast aside entirely for Shouto, the perfect golden child- especially since he was once at least pseudo-close with his father. There is no particular evidence that Touya was physically abused at all after Endeavor cast him aside, but he was certainly emotionally unstable after being shunned. He questioned his existence because he only existed in the first place for his potential to become a hero, so once that was gone he had nothing.

The thing is, Natsuo and Fuyumi never had those expectations on them in the first place so they never personally dealt with much fallout from being ignored. Additionally, Endeavor had no idea that Touya vented to Natsuo until Natsuo brought it up, and was definitely not aware of the pain that his rejection caused Touya, so I doubt Endeavor would have ever guessed that Touya intentionally tried to take his own life.

(A side note- it never explicitly says that Touya’s death was an accident either, so it is also very likely that Endeavor is lying to himself about the harsh truth of the event.)

I think the evidence points most strongly to this, and it resolves the one missing piece in the equation for me- why Natsuo blames Endeavor so strongly. Because Natsuo saw how much pain Touya was in on the daily, and he watched him get worse and worse. I think if anyone saw the signs it would have been Natsuo, but because the only thing that could have helped him was Endeavor’s attention, there wasn’t much he could do. While all of his emotions are entirely valid, Natsuo’s reactions and resistance to forgiving Endeavor seem a bit extreme if it was a genuine accident, especially if Endeavor wasn’t actively training him while it happened.

Looking at this scene yet again, Natsuo’s reaction makes just so much more sense if Touya talked to him about his feelings of worthlessness and then took his own life because Endeavor’s neglect pushed him to the edge.

The extent of Touya’s burns also points to this. He knows his limits but he also is prone to ignoring them. We know Touya has always been incredibly self destructive, sometimes even with suicidal intent as we saw in the last chapter. I think he went to the one place he knew could get hot enough to kill him with full intention of doing just that, and either he scraped by with his life and took his chance to escape or someone stumbled across him unconscious and took him to get some help.

Who Touya is as a person is directly tied to his goals, and his life only matters as much as they do. As a kid his life was defined by his quirk, so when it was no longer of use his life wasn’t either. Now as an adult, Touya’s life is tied to his mission for revenge and not only is he willing to die for it, but he sees his death as a part of that plan, the end of the road where he can finally allow himself to escape after finishing his life goal of screwing over Hero society with Endeavor at dead center.

Thanks for reading, and please feel free to tell me what you think of this theory :)

#bnha meta #bnha 291 #touya todoroki #natsuo todoroki #endeavor #bnha 252 #bnha analysis #suicide tw #tw: suicide #dabi #dabi is a todoroki #bnha 290 #angst #mypost #mymeta

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elowenp · 3 years

Text

part 1, this on ao3

It’s a normal night, until it’s not.

Dick had been purposeful when he had said that Damian could make mistakes. He remembers the way the necessity of perfection had eaten at him when he was younger. He knows that Damian is even more susceptible than he was to that burning self-disgust at anything less than a flawlessness. Upon taking over the mantle of Batman, Dick had decided that Damian needed to know there was at least one adult in his life who wouldn't disown him for delivering anything less than perfection.

He hadn’t thought so much about what would happen when Damian actually did make a mistake.

It happens when Dick is in the middle of congratulating Damian on a particularly impressive move, one with a more gymnastic slant which Dick is sure is based on one of his own trademarks. He’s telling Damian what a good job he’s doing and Damian is puffing up with pride, a smile playing around the edges of his expression. Then Dick catches the glint of the sniper rifle scope.

The ability to dodge bullets is a trademark of members of their family. Damian should feel the whistle of the bullet coming his way, he should jolt back from the air parting in front of him. But Damian's too caught up in his pride to do any of those things quickly enough so within a moment of Dick spotting the rifle scope there’s a bullet in Damian's leg.

Dick is so used to falling that he doesn't remember a time when it didn't feel like flying. The way his stomach drops now though, it doesn't feel like flying. It feels like the kid he said he'd take care of has blood spurting from his leg and it's all Dick's fault.

To his credit Damian is very calm about it. Dick knows he’s been shot before although he doesn’t know if it was a purposeful part of the boys training or not. His blood boils at either prospect. Even as the crowd is still screaming for their heroes to come save them Dick grabs Damian from the blood soaked ground and rushes to the batmobile, putting it on autopilot as he tries to stabilise the patient.

“I’m sorry.” he whispers, “I’m sorry. We’ll be back at home in no time and we’ll get you all fixed up, okay?” Dick blinks away the tears at the sight of Damian bloody and pale in front of him. Impediments to his vision will only make it harder to get Damian stable.

“Okay.” Damian replies, voice remarkably steady.

Now aware that someone he trusts is going to make it all better, Damian promptly passes out.

“Shit.” Dick says, young ears now unable to hear him. “Shit shit shit shit shit. Fuck.”

He swears to his heart's content for the rest of the ride back to the manor and it does very little to make him feel any better.

No, the swirling sea of worry-guilt-anguish in his stomach only begins to abate at the sight of Alfred in the bat cave, perfectly calm and with all the necessary medical supplies ready. They get Damian to a bed and Dick tries to make himself useful as Alfred treats the bullet wound.

He isn’t particularly useful and spends most of his time fretting.

“He’ll be fine, Master dick.” Alfred says once he’s finished up and washing the blood from where it had stained his skin.

“Of course he will.” Dick replies, attempting to sound a little more nonchalant than he actually is. From the look Alfred gives him he doesn’t think he succeeds.

He’s spared the indignity of having to say anything else by the rumble of Tim’s motorbike pulling into the cave. Tim gets off with an urgency Dick isn’t sure he expected and when he takes his domino off there’s genuine worry in the frown between his eyes.

“Is he okay?” he asks, his tone frantic.

“He’ll be fine.” Dick's grateful to find that his voice is far more level now than it was ten minutes ago.

Tim tilts his head to the side, looking at Dick. His expression narrows into something slightly more analytical than concern. “Are you okay?”

Dick tries to say yes. He really does. He's Tim’s big brother, he’s Batman. Of course he can tell his little brother that he’s okay. But after a moment of silence Dick glances towards where Damian lies far too still on their operating table and feels the tears he's been fighting off resurface in his eyes.

Tim nods as if this is confirming something. “Come on.” He says. “Let’s get out of here.”

Dick tries to protest that Damian needs someone to be here when he wakes up but Tim just continues to pull him gently out of the cave.

“He’s going to be out for the next few hours. I can make you hot chocolate in the meantime.”

Dick wants to keep protesting but he’s been left tired and weak by the nights events. He allows himself to slump as his little brother leads him out of the darkness.

Dick talks. Significantly more than he had intended to.

He talks about how he can’t balance this awful dichotomy of guardian and commander. He talks about how he’s still not entirely sure how to be Batman, let alone a parent. He talks about how he can’t keep doing this without something breaking.

Probably him. Possibly Damian. Both answers are unacceptable.

“I’ll to fix this” Tim says. The determination in his expression reminds Dick of when he came to his bludhaven apartment all those years ago and demanded Dick reprise his roll as Robin. “I’m going to make a call, we’ll sort this out.” he promises.

Tim’s always been good at that. Tugging on the fraying strings of their family tapestry until it resembles something whole. It’s how he came into the family in the first place and Dick has always been grateful for that.

Tim leaves, already dialing a number into his phone with a look of intense concentration. Dick wants to go check on Damian but Alfreds got that handled so it’s not like he’ll actually help. Sitting idle at the boys bedside will probably just make him feel worse.

So Dick hangs his head and waits for someone to save him.

“Give me a lift to the airport?” Tim asks far too sweetly. The tone of voice doesn’t suit him.

“You can drive.” Dick points out, suspicious.

Tim gives him a look, like Dick's being difficult on purpose. “It’ll be a bonding opportunity.” he says, his tone lowering to something closer to his usual cadence. Dick still feels suspicious but there’s a million things he has to do today that are more important than arguing with his only sane brother, so he nods. Tim grins in response and gets up with a lot more energy than he tends to these days.

Dick decides that there’s little use in thinking on it more. He’s in charge of far too many things at the moment, he’ll let Tim control this one.

Cass appears in the collection area, suitcase in hand, and Dick feels the weight of the world become significantly lighter.

She's more muscled than she was when she left. Her footsteps are more confident. It makes pride rise in Dick's throat as he realises how brave his little sister is for growing so much all by herself.

She picks up her pace once Tim and Dick are in view, almost breaking into a jog as she approaches. She wraps an arm around each of them and Dick can feel her smile pressing against his cheek.

Dick realises that his own smile is pressing against Cass’s cheek. His chin is somehow resting in Tim’s hair.

He savours the moment and feels more full than he has in a long time.

“Welcome home.” He says into Cass’s neck. He feels her smile even wider in response.

That night as Dick is about to go on patrol Cass taps his shoulder.

“I can do it.” she says, pointing at the Batman suit Dick had been about to start putting on.

Dick frowns, pushing away the golden hope bleeding into the edges of his soul. “It won’t fit.” he says.

Cass shrugs. “I won’t wear it. But I can do it.”

Dick feels his frown deepen. Cass is younger than him and she hasn’t been in Gotham for so long. It’s not a good idea for her to take on the mantle. She’s already got far too much weighing her down without adding another impossible burden for her to bear.

Dick looks past Cass for a second to allow his eyes to rest on Tim, busying himself with sorting his own gear out but none too subtly watching the exchange between Dick and Cass. He gives a slight nod. An endorsement. Dick looks back to Cass who is smiling very gently at his indecision.

“Okay.” he says, and the room releases a sigh of relief.

Cass has been Batman every night since she got back a week ago and Dick hasn’t felt this light since Bruce died.

She was always the best fighter out of them. Always a little faster, a little more cutting, than any of her brothers. She isn’t as used to the detective aspect of things but she's surrounded by enough people trained in that aspect of the job that it isn’t a problem. Dick wears the Nightwing suit and flies higher than he has in months. Damian tends to work with Cass, Batman needs a Robin after all, but will pop up on Dick's patrols with silent requests for ice cream and a shoulder to lean on.

Cass can be Damian's Batman. Dick can be his guardian. It was always too much to ask of Bruce, for him to be both. For him to be their teacher and their hero and their father. Splitting the load seems to be going far better than anything Bruce used to try.

Sometimes Dick will catch Tim smiling at him the same way he does at a problem just solved. He wants to say thank you. Thank you for letting me outrun that awful burden for a little longer. Thank you for saving me. But he supposes that’s just what brothers are for.

Instead he asks Tim if he wants to go train surfing. They haven’t since before Bruce died. Dick was far too busy trying to keep the world from collapsing in on itself and Tim was too busy trying to find a way to stop Dick from crumbling under the pressure of it.

“Yeah.” Tim says, his smile twisting and morphing until it goes from analytical to soft and relieved. “Yeah I’d like that.”

"Do you miss him?" Damian asks one day. Dick doesn't need any clarification on who he's talking about.

The two of them are sat on a rooftop, legs swinging over the side. Damian is holding a rum and raisin ice cream Dick had pressed firmly into his hand. Dick decided a while ago that Damian should be offered the opportunity to try all the flavours he missed out on in the earlier part of his childhood and he thinks they're making some pretty good progress.

Dick considers for a moment. It's a complicated question. "Yes," he starts, because of course he does, "But it doesn't hurt like it used to. Not now that I can focus on being myself instead of squeezing myself into the shape of the person I'm mourning. And you?"

"Yes." Damian starts, because of course he does. He pauses for longer than Dick did but that makes sense. Damian's thoughts are complicated enough that Dick can't help but be proud of the kid for being able to untangle even a few of them. "But I know a lot of people who've died. And at least this time I gained what I came searching for regardless of what happened to Father."

It's not a thank you. Dick knows that it's going to take a little more time for Damian to learn how to shape his mouth into those words. But it's a start.

Dick looks at all the life surrounding him and smiles.

#dick grayson #damain wayne #nightwing #batman #writing #dc #tim drake #cassandra cain #cass cain #i have not posted anything in AGES #exams murdered me but i'm back #(until resits)#also i just put this in a word counter and I did not realise how long this was #au where tim doesn't bring bruce back

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pl-panda · 3 years

Text

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 9

MASTERLIST || First || Previous || Next

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 9

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The Gala. The Wayne Gala. The Wayne New Year’s Gala. The Wayne Gala to celebrate the New Year.

“I can’t do it!” Marinette screamed. “What if I trip and fall on Mr. Wayne and then he will break his leg!? Or what if I accidentally babble something I’m not supposed to and make it a disaster!? Or what if Lila makes a mess and I get blamed for it in front of thousands of people!?” She started breathing heavily. “Or maybe I’ll just look awkward and people decide that I’m useless and Mr. Wayne decides that I should leave Damian to spare him the embarrassment?! I can…” Tikki slapped Marinette when she didn’t respond to any of her pleas.

“Marinette! Breathe.” The Kwami instructed her.

“Sorry Tikki. I’m really nervous. I know that making the announcement today is the best option since we’re starting school soon and the news would break anyway, but it’s just so… I’m not used to all that.”

“I know Marinette. But you must accept that your beloved lives in these circles and you must respect some of the needs. He’s changing for you, but you can’t just demand he abandon his old life.”

“I know… I really want to make this work. He… I know I can trust him like nobody else. Even… even you… I love you, but you’re not…”

“Human?”

“Yes! I’m sorry Tikki. You’re still my partner and my best friend. Don’t tell that to Chloé though.”

“My lips are sealed.” The kwami giggled. “You’re my favorite chosen too, Marinette. You have the true creation inside you.”

“Thanks, Tikki.”

“Not get on and show them what you’re made of!” The little goddess cheered.

“Yes! I’m going to rock! I’m great!” The girl said confidently and put on the purple mask with golden lines.

-------

Damian waited impatiently for his beloved to come. The guests were already filling in and his father and brothers went to greet them. Tom and Sabine, dressed in their MDC original outfits, were already on the dance floor, showing everyone that they could still move even in their forties. Cass was probably somewhere with Bourgeois, stealing cookies or something. The two seemed to bond over being the third wheel and treating Sabine like their new mother.

“Wassup Dames?” A voice startled him and Damian whirled around with a punch that stopped an inch from Jon’s nose.

“Tt. Aren’t you supposed to be downstairs? With the guests?” He grumbled.

“Nah. Mom and Dad are with your dad, going over the safe questions to ask your wi…” Jon didn’t get to finish that word because Damian lunged at him and covered his mouth.

“Tt. Shut up. The last thing I need is drama caused by your big mouth.”

*muffled sounds*

“I don’t care. Mouth shut or I’ll test the new Kryptonite dusters.”

*more muffled sounds*

“I did get them. Want me to try them out right now?” Jon shook his head. “Good. We’ve got an agreement?” A nod. “Fine.” Damian let him go.

“You’re very violent, you know that?”

“Tt. Shut up.”

“I’m just saying.”

“I told you to…” Damian’s words died in his throat. Marinette entered the scene.

“Shall we?” She asked, handing him a sleek black mask with gold details. When light reflected from it, a very subtle purple gleam could be seen.

“It’s incredible, Habibti. Just like the rest of my suit.” He was dressed in a pure-black three-piece, a white shirt underneath, and had a black tie. He screamed style and power.

-------

All in all, the trip was not yet a disaster for Lila Rossi. Her lies were slowly taking root in the people around her. Like the clerk at the Hotel. Soon, she would have them all wrapped around her fingers. Only Maribrat and Chloé seemed to be completely immune to her charms. But that girl was too goody-two-shoes for her own good and Bourgeois was hated even before she started her work.

There was also that exchange student, Grayson boy… Darren, Damien, something like that. She couldn’t believe she thought that guy was Damian Wayne when he first walked into her class. She went as far as stopping Alya from being mean to him. From her research, all Waynes were kind and helpful. Damian Wayne supposedly volunteered at an animal shelter. The press described him as ‘cute in a special way.’ Blasted Waynes and their no-pictures policy. The guy in her class looked a bit similar to Bruce Wayne, at least at first glance. Then, she noticed that his skin was darker (not just solar tan), his nose was a bit different too. And his eyes were green. It was the only constant with the Waynes. They all had dark hair and blue eyes.

As such, she dismissed him as unimportant and focused on her more important goals. Making a deal with Gabriel Agreste, or rather Hawkmoth, was risky. In the end, it worked out for her in many ways. She gained a foothold from which she made her small empire. And Agreste boy was nice arm candy for a while. Until he went all psycho on Maribrat that is.

Now if she found one of the Waynes, she could start working on worming her way in. Blasted masks! They appeared too good in the media not to have a big dirty secret to exploit. Blackmail wouldn’t be new for her.

The Gala was slowly starting when all the lights turned off. Two stage flood lights focused on the stairs leading to the second floor of the manor. Two people appeared on them. First was a young man, about her age, dressed all black. He radiated money and influence and she was sure what he wore was in fact an MDC original. But he was nothing next to his companion.

Her dark-purple dress shone in the light like a thousand diamonds. It hugged her figure perfectly and while she was most likely the same age as her companion, she still looked stunning. The high collar was embroidered with a golden thread that formed intricate patterns around her slender neck. The sleeves went down to her arms where they seamlessly merged with gloves. The line was blurred by twin bracelets that each had a symbol of a bat with flowers. A nod toward the Bats of Gotham while keeping it original. From the waist down, it opened on the side, giving her the freedom to move while still keeping the near-royal appearance. With each step, it flowed slightly, revealing the golden underlining. Her legs were also covered with the same material down to ballet shoes in a deeper shade of purple finished with golden lining.

Her blue hair reached slightly beyond her shoulders and matched her eyes perfectly. All the gold and purple served to make everyone focus on her.

Lila cursed under her breath. There was no chance anyone would notice her with someone like that parading around. Something had to be done. Lila checked her own dress. It was pretty, but when compared to that, it came plain.

All her scheming came to the halt when the pair walked over to Bruce Wayne and got him to stop speaking with Gotham’s mayor. They knew him. A realization dawned on her. It was Damian Wayne and his date. They had to be. But his eyes… they were green.

“No…” escaped the Liar’s lips. The woman she was talking to noticed and followed her gaze. Some part of Lila’s brain noticed she also checked her dress and was saddened. At least her reaction was not out of place.

Bruce Wayne walked with the two back to the stairs where the stand with a microphone was prepared before the lights were turned back on. Sensing a juicy story, all the journalists and bloggers swarmed as close as possible. Some even lost their masks.

“Can I have a moment of your attention?” The billionaire asked. His eyes swept over the crowd. “Before I start, I wanted to remind you that there is a strict no-photos policy on the gala. We’ve hired a photographer with an exclusive contract and any pictures taken not by him will be considered a breach and will be met with a lawsuit.”

The murmurs broke all around the crowd. It was a known fact that taking unsolicited photos at Wayne Galas was forbidden. There was no need to remind anyone about it unless it was a really juicy piece. The last time Bruce Wayne took time to remind everyone about this was when Jason Todd turned out to be alive and well, only slightly amnesiac.

“Now. First I wanted to welcome everyone to this year’s Gala. We’re closing another year and I thank everyone for showing up to celebrate with me and my family.” He raised a small glass of champagne. “In particular, I wanted to welcome a class from Paris that is participating in the year-long exchange program funded by the Thomas Wayne Education fund. I hope you enjoyed Gotham so far.” The journalists were frantically noting everything down. Either for publishing or just to put it in tabloids with some conspiracy theories. “Now, onto the main reason for the announcement. You know I’m not good at speeches.” He grinned and the crowd exploded into laughter. “Since my son just returned from Paris, I’m well aware that this news would break anyway when he returned to school. I ask you to respect their privacy and… well, at least try not to bother them. May I introduce Damian Wayne and his girlfriend, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Everyone started to either whisper or frantically make notes and think of questions to ask. The fact that Damian Wayne, dubbed Ice Prince of Gotham, got himself a girlfriend serious enough to be introduced to everyone was already front-page news for many of them. Even just the dress she wore was front-page news. Any journalist that dabbled in celebrity fashion would recognize an MDC original by now, at least from Jagged Stone or Clara Nightingale. The two refused to even consider anything else.

“Tt. Against my better judgment, I know that teenagers are walking gossip machines so you would all learn it the moment we entered Gotham Academy.” Damian started his speech. “As such, I want to clear any and all confusion before it can start. This,” he motioned at Marinette, “ is my girlfriend. We met in Paris and clicked immediately. I expect you to show her the same respect you show my family or I will challenge you to an honor duel.”

Damian was not even trying to hide his distaste for journalists today. He could see that Marinette was uncomfortable with this attention even more than he was. He grew up used to attention while simultaneously being taught that newspapers were at best a propaganda tool and at worst trouble to be dealt with. Obviously, he disliked them, even more, when he became Damian Wayne. Usually, he tried to remain civil to the journalists unless they were irritating. Today, he didn’t bother. Not that they didn’t know he was a private person. A certain paparazzi with a blade going through his camera would attest to that.

“Angel, do you want to answer their questions or should I?” He whispered.

“Um… shouldn’t you first tell them more?”

“No. It’s better if I only answer what they want to know.”

“Um… Maybe you start.”

“Fine.” He turned back to the microphone. “I will be taking the first question.” He pointed at Clark who had his hand in the air.

“Clark Kent, Daily Planet. Could you tell us more about how you met?”

“I joined Marinette’s class for the exchange program my Father mentioned. The only free seat was next to her, so that’s where I sat. What got my attention first was her willingness to stand up to injustice and forgive those who slighted her. She was open-minded and didn’t back down even when I was… Ehm… a bit rude.” He admitted. “I managed to ask her out and she showed me the side of Paris you don’t usually see with a tour guide. We share a passion for drawing and she shared with me her favorite place in Paris. No, I won’t reveal it. After that, my respect for her only grew when she was willing to accept an apology from a girl that bullied her in the past, helping her actually change her ways. Next question?” He pointed at a different journalist. He really hoped he picked right. The masks were making it harder than he assumed. A flaw in their plan that they overlooked.

“Vicky Vale, Gotham Gazette” The woman introduced herself and Damian resisted the urge to curse. His Father’s ex was not exactly the most favorable toward them after their breakup, even if she tried to stay professional. “What more can you tell us about the mysterious girl behind the mask? So far we know she’s from Paris and likes to draw, plus some traits.”

“May I answer this?” Mari asked Damian, thinking it was high time for her to step up and help. He nodded and stepped back so she had free access to the microphone. “Hi. I'm Marinette. Mostly, I’m just a normal girl with a normal life…” She started. What followed was quite a long introduction where she gave the press enough to satisfy them while keeping private the parts she wanted.

There were many more questions. About family, plans, dreams, etc. The young couple answered some while dismissed others as too personal and rude. Finally, after over an hour they ended the event and told those who would stay to move on with the gala while several journalists were removed. In total, ten photographic devices were confiscated and Chloé got the honors of handling everything with Tim. He was there for a technical site, she was there for intimidation.

One of the particularly irritating paparazzi tried to argue, but then Chloé started to rant until he was cowering in the corner. Pretty much everyone around them was now glaring at him with a hateful gaze. After that, they mostly behaved.

-------

“Well… that was exhausting. And it’s only ten pm?” Marinette and Damian were resting next to the snacks table. They were enjoying a moment of peace once the initial wave of well-wishers passed. Jason was keeping an eye on the class to make sure they were stopped from making anything worse for themselves and everyone else. So far they were too stunned to deal with it. He was pleased to see that Alix girl was finally doing something and pointing out many flaws in their reasoning. The problem was Lila disappeared in the crowd for the moment. Chloé was on the hunt though. She was a master of dealing with a rich crowd, probably surpassing even Drake.

“Here you are!” A voice startled the couple. Marinette and Damian turned to see a group of four people. Jon was one of them. There was also a girl with blonde hair pulled into a long braid and a boy in a blue suit with medium-long black hair and blue eyes. The fourth one made Marinette’s blood run cold. Her eyes went wide and she acted before anyone caught the wind of it. A strong straight punch sent the boy looking like Adrien flying onto the ground.

Chatter around them died in an instant. Marinette tried to lunge at him, but Jon caught her. He was probably the only one strong enough to hold her back.

“Let me go! Don’t you see he is a criminal?!” She was doing her best to get out of his grip. Damian suddenly was holding the blade to the neck of the blonde boy.

“You have five seconds to speak.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not my moronic cousin. Would you please let go of me?” He asked with a thick British accent.

“Tt. Prove it.” Damian scoffed.

“Ugh. I’m really tired of dealing with everyone taking me for a criminal just because I look like him. Ask my mother!”

Indeed, a blonde woman in a gray dress was making her way through the crowd. “Felix sweetie!?” She kneeled next to him while glaring daggers at Damian and Marinette. Reluctantly, he took away the sword but didn’t put it away. Dick and Tim also arrived.

“What happened?”

“That twit attacked my Felix!”

“Tt. He shows up and looks just like a known criminal. You should’ve really chosen something other than a black mask and a black suit.” Damian frowned. He didn’t exactly feel bad about the incident, but the press would jump on that.

“It’s alright mum. I admit I’m partially at fault. I forgot the reaction Parisians have to me right now.” He bowed his head. “Please accept my apologies.” His lower lip was bleeding.

“Um… here. Let me help you.” Marinette pulled a tissue from her pocket (of course her dress had pockets) and handed it to him. Nodding, he wiped the blood.

“Tt. I’m still not convinced.”

“Damian! That’s rude. I remember Felix. He was in Paris once.” Then, she mumbled under her breath. “Caused a triple akumatization.”

“I am sorry for that…”

“Felix joined our class this year. You left the day before he came.” The blonde girl explained.

“It was all just one big misunderstanding folks. You can move on.” Dick took control of the crowd and allowed the teens some breathing space. Except that’s when the class finally decided to start speaking up.

“Yeah right! Marinette is just a big bully! I’m in her class and she was mean to Lila from the beginning. I wouldn’t be surprised if she dated Damian Wayne just for money.” Alya had to babble. The rest of the class (minus Alix) was either nodding or giving their own confessions, real or not, and always against Marinette.

So far the Waynes avoided any accusations about gold-digging. The one journalist that tried to pick up the subject (subtly at first) was silenced by Damian’s evil eye. Now more people murmured. And the number of people able to respond was greatly limited as Damian, Chloé, Jason, and Sabine had to be restrained from hurting people.

To everyone’s surprise, it was Cass who jumped on the table.

“Shut…! Up!” She shouted. Or what stood for her shouting, which was only slightly louder than normal people’s speech. Still, it got everyone’s attention. “Cousin Nettie is… kind. Good. Sel… Selfless. She is my family. Not… digger.” She glared at several people that were still muttering. “Saw her… date with Damian. She did not let him pay. Not digger!” There was a dangerous edge in her voice. That was enough to shut people up. Except for the class.

“Of course you would protect her!” Kim stared at her. “You’re probably…” He didn’t finish because Alix covered his mouth. The girl noticed that Bruce, who was restraining Jason Todd was about to let go. She wasn’t sure exactly what would happen, but she wasn’t willing to find out.

“I think it’s time for you to leave. Where is your teacher/chaperone?” Bruce asked, also glaring at them.

“Um… Madame Bustier is…”

“Madame Cheng is right there!” Mylene pointed to where Tom was doing his best to stop his wife from grabbing the Bag and cutting the class into tiny pieces.

“I… I don’t think it would be healthy for us to go with her right now. She is very emotional right now.” Alix offered. She was trying to act like the voice of reason. Something this class lacked.

The teacher was quickly located flirting with one of the musicians invited to the gala. She was completely unaware of what her charges did.

“I’m sure it was just some misunderstanding. Marinette indeed started acting out a bit this year. They probably overexaggerated a bit.”

“Tt. You mean she stopped being a doormat?” Damian huffed.

“As I said, it’s time for the kids to leave,” Bruce said in a harsh tone.

“Oh… Okay. I’m sure Sab…”

“Caline. You’re the one responsible for taking care of them. You’ll take them away when Mr. Wayne asks.” Tom then pointed at his wife, who he was holding a few inches above the ground to keep her from doing something stupid.

“Um… Of course.” The teacher sighed. “Kids. Gather your things. We must leave.”

As they were walking out, people applauded. After Alfred closed the doors behind them it was finally safe to let the more violent part of the family free. In all that mess, nobody noticed that a certain sausage-haired girl was not with them

“Now, Wayne.” The blonde started. “Want to explain why we had to learn about you having a girlfriend from a press conference?”

“Or why did Jon know her before us?” The boy added.

“I would also appreciate hearing how my bloody cousin earned your ire,” Felix added.

“Oh! Sorry.” The girl turned to Marinette. “I’m Allegra and this is Claude. You already know Jon and Felix. We’re Damian’s friends. Or the closest thing he had to such.”

“Tt. I don’t have friends.”

“Bro. Not cool.” Claude argued.

“Shut up. Claudius.” he huffed.

“You wound me.” The teen gasped and put a hand on his chest. “Dami.”

Felix and Marinette watched from the sidelines how the quartet bickered. Jon tried to help Damian sort things out.

“For what it’s worth, I am sorry,” Felix said after a moment of silence. “My cousin is a daft git.”

“That we can agree on,” Mari said absentmindedly while trying to keep the eye on Damian. She hoped he didn’t bring the kryptonite dusters tonight.

-------------

Masterlist // Next

104 notes · View notes

slyther-bi · 3 years

Text

Back onto the whole Severus having tattoos idea, here's some info on why he got the tattoos that I assume he would get.

The Cat reaching out to the Phoenix

Because I fell in love with the au that @mmad-lover has of Minerva and Albus adopting Severus, And Most people who get tattoos sometimes get one dedicated to their parents.

Music Notes

Given the way his life has been, I'd say that music helped him escaped reality and Severus seeks comfort in it.

Petunias & Lilies

Ok so Severus and Petunia clearly don't get along or like eachother but they both care for Lily. So maybe after Lily's death he got petunias and lilies together, cause atleast this way all 3 of them will be together the way Lily had always wanted.

Cleaning supplies and a cat

Somehow Severus had developed a bond with the schools caretaker Argus Filch and his cat Mrs. Norris. Maybe Severus saw him as a father figure since he real father was a bastard.

Snake

This one is obvious, he's a Slytherin so of course he'll get a snake tattoo.

Peacock feathers

Lucius was basically the second person to befriend him. He was probably the first male who hadn't hurt him when they first met, considering every time he came face to face with another man he got hurt...

*cough*hisfather*cough*james&sirius*cough*

So of course he'd get something that reminds him of Lucius

Golden Snitch with Regulus's initials

I assume that when Severus first met Regulus he wasn't fond of him because well Regulus was Sirius's brother and Severus already has bad history with him. Tho eventually the two get close and become unlikely friends, much to Sirius's dismay, and somewhere along the line Severus developed feelings for Regulus. So when he heard that he had died he had gotten the tattoo in memory of him.

Things involving potions

Severus was a pro at potions but that's not why he got a tattoo relating to it. He got it cause he and his mother Eileen would sneak into the kitchen late at night to make a simple healing potion when he was younger. It was rare when they would do this cause his father would be furious if he caught them. Tho despite that it was possibly the only time he felt closer to her than ever.

His mother's name with vines w/ thorns wrapped around it

She may not have been the best but he still loved her and she deserved a better life.

Inspirational quote

I feel as if Severus loves poetry so at some point he picked a quote written or said by one of his favorite authors and got it tattooed on his arm cause it probably meant something to him.

Butterflies

Evan Rosier, for some reason I associate him with butterflies. Also since he and Severus were roommates I feel like they had some silent friendship. They would patch eachother up when neither one of them wanted to go to the hospital wing and Severus would end up falling for him somewhere in time. I like to believe that Evan loved butterflies (shocking I know) and at some point in school had told Severus, hence why when news broke out about Rosier's death Severus got butterflies tattooed on his arm.

Burning Raven

Honestly I think that some Slytherin's would call him "raven" wether they said it as an insult or not Severus wasn't all that fond of it but it was better then being called "Greasy dungeon bat" and he got a burning Raven tattooed. Why he decided the raven so be in flames he had no idea.

Anything Bisexual

It's clear that Severus was a bisexual disaster and everyone who went to school with him knew it. It was freaking obvious that the only person who wasn't aware of it at the time was Severus himself.

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errthel · 3 years

Text

Route Two Deux

Welcome to part two of which may become a discontinued fantasy, but tis is life I guess. Pulled from the ever fantastic Second Wife AU of the Draconia Family Series by @tri3tri if you didn't know, and if you didn't, how?????? So without further ado I guess, this is the second part.

Tired eyes wandered off to the lush green lawn surrounding the outside of the building. From the barstool in the kitchen, he could see the green grass with tidy flower beds, a small pond off to the side giving a sense of serenity to whoever walked in there. The silence of the large house would have accented the loneliness of the boy, but the music that boomed from the speakers in the other room did well to hide it.

Lucien's damp mood was brought to him by an acceptance letter from a school he never applied to. He remembered that day a week ago when a dove brought it to him during breakfast, and the horror that ensued from his grandparents prompted them to eplain that the school, Royal Sword Academy, was in the same world as his wretched father.

He was familiar with the concept of his mother and sisters held captive in a world separate from his own. He was also aware of the existence of magic in that world, and to some extent, his own. The teen remembered distant memories of the past, when he would uncontrollably make objects float and with the unlocking of a special power when he was ten, it seemed that he should have expected something to happen to him.

Lucien expected dying to the hands of the government or being killed in a lab or just being exiled from society and be forced into becoming a laborer. But he stupidly didn't expect an acceptance letter to a magic school, that was a big oh right moment he thought.

His pale hand brought up the juice box to his delicate lips, which were rather plump and pink. Dispite his seemingly feminine lips, his face is anything but female or male. To everyone around him, Lucien is the epitome of androgynous beauty, and if it wasn't for his rather deep and masculine voice, he would have passed off as a female, a rather tall one at that

To his surprise the only one who really physically changed was him, he grew up to a hulking one hundred and eighty cm. While his grandparents, who were having a date in town, maintained their semi-youthful appearance, no matter how much Lucien tried to find a difference from photos of the past to now, he couldn't find any. Are they perhaps immortal? Or have magic unconsciously?

He wasn't sure about that, they smelled as normal as everybody else so he never questioned it.

The ringing of his phone caught his attention as he brought the hunk of metal to his ear.

"Lucien here."

"Ahh! Lucien-sama!" Ah... another girl

Lucien sighed a silent sigh before he quickly asked, "Um... may I ask who this is?"

"Mhm! I'm Mari-chan! From Class 1-B!" the female voice from the other end said in a cheery manner

"Oh okay... sorry, but I have something to do..."

...

"Do I have to get another number? I just got this one a month ago."

"Another one?" Albert's gruff voice evaded the silence of the home making Lucien sigh once more

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure she's a high schooler, no one's named Mari in the middle school department."

"Gosh. Our grandson's soooooo popular!"

"This is not a laughing matter Hanna!"

"Why? I'm plenty proud of Lucien! Aren't you? He's like the middle schooler you never were."

"What do you mean by that!"

"Hey, gramps, when I go to Royal Sword Academy, what should I do... you know. I wanna see mother, but I don't want to risk getting her in trouble, same for my sisters." a sad tone took over the fifteen year old's speech

"So that's what you've been thinking of kid..." Albert trailed off as he examined the younger boy

Over the years the boy's grandparents received visions, where they came from, they didn't know. Each and every vision they had, they dictated to Lucien, the visions consisted of the life his mother had living with his so called father, father my foot Lucien thought. But the visions never showed what happened after that tall woman took his mother and sisters, and any knowledge about it was something Lucien heavily desired.

Hanna walked over to the barstool Lucien sat at and sat on the one next to it, she held a sympathetic look whilst a sad disposition overtook her.

"Lucien, you are a smart child, when you are there, I implore you to make decisions that will help you towards your goal." her cold frigid tone showcased the woman's serious side as she pat her grandson's back.

"Kid, when you're there, there will be a time where you will have to show your other form. Whether that time be the first time you step into that school, or at graduation, I hope you don't regret it." Albert added as he walked to the pair

"Mhm..."

The rest of the day was somber as the fated day drew closer and closer, whatever day that may be. Lucien thought back to what might have went through his mother's mind when she woke up at Night Raven College. Was she scared? He thinks she was.

His mother... Lucien no longer remembers what she looked like or what his sisters looked like. He can only remember the warmth they gave him years ago, before that day.

He remembers sobbing uncontrollably when he and his grandparents watched 'Sleeping Beauty' one day in the past. His small hands took what ever they could and threw it to the television when the villainess, Maleficent, first appeared on the screen. The hands of his grandmother held him back as his grandfather, in sheer panic, unplugged the television cord.

That 'episode' of his left him trembling and wary of all Disney movies for a long time.

The heaviness of the plastic bag he was carrying made the boy cringe. He had only planned to buy a few cups of coffee jelly to share with his friends at the club, but the amount of girls that stopped him to give him some more made him uncomfortable.

The plastic bag was at its witts end as it held at least twenty cups of coffee jelly, storebought and homemade.

Once he had reached his destination, his other hand found the handle of the door that was labeled 'music club' and slid it open. The slight laughter inside the room made Lucien warm up as he ducked a bit to get in.

"Oh! Lucien-senpai! What are you doing here!" a shorter boy with blond tresses sitting by the shiney drum set called out

"Just visiting." Lucien smiled lightly to the boy

"O! There it is! Lucien-senpai's mysterious smile!"

"Hush, hush, Kei-chan." a brown haired girl said to Kei

"Lucien-senpai, I also feel the same as Kei-chan. What brings you here? I thought he graduating class was given a week off." she said looking at the taller male

"There's no harm in visiting my dear underclassmen isn't there, Haru? I thought I would say something before going off to my new school." Lucien said, grimacing a bit in the inside at the thought of leaving this wonderful world of his in pursuit of a world he has no idea about

"So the rumor of Lucien-san leaving for another school was true after all..." a flamboyant voice evaded the club room followed by the shutting of the door

Lucien looked behind to see a head of dyed light pink hair, styled into a very stylish hair style. He chuckled before confirming the rumor.

"Yeah, I have been forced to attend a new school. Also, nice hair Takashi."

"Huuhh! I thought your grandparents were the chillest grandparents! I never knew they would force you to attend a different school." Kei's loud voice made Lucien answer with a sigh

"It wasn't my grandparents really, intact they were against the idea of me changing schools."

"Eh? Then who forced you?" Takashi asked as Haru looked at the oldest male with questioning eyes

"...it's a secret..." Lucien said as he gave a discreet smile with hooded eyes

"Is that so? Actually, I don't think we know anything about your parents Lucien-san." Takashi questioned

"Actually Takashi-senpai is right, we don't know anything about your parents. Are they perhaps the one who're forcing you to change schools Lucien-senpai?" Haru said voicing out her worries

A lump appeared in Lucien's throat, he wasn't at all sensitive to the absence of his parents. He just mildly disliked the concept of parents, considering his own parents weren't a golden example. His 'father' could be summed up to just being a sperm donor and he wouldn't bat an eye. But his mother, oh his poor mother, tortured to do things against her own volition. He hated it, hated that parents meant a pair, a pair that is supposedly bounded by mutual love, but his own parents were just a disgrace to that. He doesn't even know if his mother is still alive at the hands of his father's family.

"I, don't know anything about them." sweetly smiling, hiding his malice to that word so that his underclassmen would stop concerning themselves with talk about his parents

The room plummeted to a chilling atmosphere, their upperclassman wasn't in a good mood, they could tell. They could also tell that any talk about his parents put him in an silently aggressive mood, so they took care to shut their mouths.

"Right! I have coffee jelly with me. I was supposed to get four, but it seems that with my parting with the school, the amount of people giving me coffee jelly has increased. I'm starting to think that I'm getting sick of it." Lucien said in his usual voice, which helped immensely in warming up the room, and in time the whole club was enjoying the desserts with some lovely music

Tbh, I have no idea what is happening with Lucien. I just imagine him as someone who decides based on his goal, which is to get out of Twisted Wonderland with minimal drama, plus points on getting his family back, and that would definitely be something his grandparents repeat everytime he thinks of his mother.

When he gets upset, he tends to not outwardly show it at all, he knows better than to throw tantrums.

Lucien surprisingly is also someone who goes with the flow, but he still doesn't blindly let everything to fate. He makes decisions in situations on the spot, and they always worked out for him, so why change?

#twst malleus #maleficent #twisted wonderland #disney #twst #twst wonderland #series #route two #lucien

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crimson-mage-02 · 4 years

Text

Burning with Desire

Summary: Five years had past, things had changed with the Titans had grown up and went into separate ways. Until Damian had returned to Jump City from his training and was reunited with Raven, finding himself having with a burning desire he had felt for a long time.

A/N: This fanfic is my very first smut. Please be kind and be considerate with your thoughts and opinions when reading my fanfic. If you do not wish to read it then don’t.

It has been five years since Damian had left to train in the mountains with his father. She let her violet eyes glance at the trees from the spot where she and Damian first spoke to each other. She remembered him going into the Tower for the first time, seeing and felt that he was sad. And the time she had healed him after being injured by Jaime’s beam from the blue beetle. She had seen everything in his head, his past demons, and his memories as he saw everything about her. Her life in Azarath, her mother and Trigon.

Over the years, they grew closer than ever. Their friendship had blossomed into something more that the two had never imagined. It was much more stronger than loneliness and darkness both had inside. After being with the Titans, she found herself more at peace and at ease around Damian, he was the only person that understood her.

She walked around her apartment with Titus walking beside her. Just before Damian left, he wanted her to look after him for a while. And five years a really, really, really long time. But she loved looking after him and Titus keeps her company after moving out of the Tower to have her own space.

She still does go to the Tower to visit her friends, her fellow Titans. She knew Jaime has moved in with Traci, Gar and Tara are still living in the Tower, Kori is now married to Dick. Donna and Conner had something going on for years, but nothing happened until they recently had started dating.

Raven walked to the kitchen, grabbing Titus some food for him. She bent down to place the food and water in front of him. “Here you go.” She pet him softly while grabbing her phone, seeing her screensaver was herself and her friends including Damian. He was standing beside her with arms crossed, smiling at her fondly while Gar had his arm around him, grinning. Kori was the one who took this photo and let her have it.

She saw a few texts from the girls. She frowned seeing that they haven’t heard from Damian yet either. She frowned began to think he had forgotten about her and his second family. “Alright, I should get ready for the day.”

Raven stood back up and walked back to her room to get changed. She wore black leggings with a purple-blue top and had a black leather jacket with her hair up in a ponytail. She wore her light pink lip gloss and had golden earrings with a purple jewel in the centre. It was the last gift that Damian had given her before he went for his training.

She made sure to lock the door before she went off to work. After moving out, she started to work in a book café. It calms her down and she loved reading books in her spare time. She drove to work only to find out Kori was already there. “Oh, Raven! Hello.” Kori greeted her happily.

“Hello, Kori, do you want the usual order?” Raven asked with a smile.

“Oh yes please.” Kori smiled brightly.

Raven nodded and went to the back to put her bag in her locker and put on a apron before she make Kori’s order. She was also watching the news seeing that Bruce Wayne had returned to Gotham city after disappearing. She knew why, he was with Damian for training, for almost five years. No news about Damian. Typical.

“Here, one hot mocha and a strawberry cake.” Raven smiled at Kori.

“Thank you. And I couldn’t believe Dick was right, he is really back.” Kori said, watching the news. “But Damian hasn’t been announced that he is back.”

“No, probably still is training.” Raven said softly with bitterness. Kori frowned while eating her cake. She knew that the separation was hard. They had been in contact in the first two years of his training and then after that, he had stopped. They thought the reason was he was training hard as he could to become more of an efficient leader and most trusted member of the Titans. But his friends did understand the meaning of training with the big Bat when he is considering in retiring.

“Raven, I know Damian is not a man with words but through his actions, he does truly care about us, about you. I am sure he does have a very good reason why he stopped contacting us.” Kori reasoned while sipping on the hot mocha.

Raven nodded with a soft smile. Then her co-worker had asked her for help and immediately went back to work. She has taken both the morning and evening shift. She needed the money to pay the rent and it keeps her busy during the day. On weekends, she normally hangs out with the girls to rest up from all of her hard work.

She sometimes hang out with the rest of the Titans and often they ask her about Damian. She gives them short answers until he had stopped contacting her. She always wondered if his training had already stopped or he was ignoring her. She pulled her hair into a messy half bun and served her customer their food and drinks.

(~)

Meanwhile in a private plane, Dick was looking at his computers and smiled when a message came through seeing his daughter Mar’i in a photo, taken my Kori. He beamed with pride seeing his little daughter in a Nightwing mini costume.

“She’s all grown up looking like her mother every day.” A deep voice interrupted his train of thoughts making Dick looking up and grinned.

“Of course. She has. It has been five years already. And look Kori also had made her to be fitted in a Robin onesie too.” Dick chuckled, showing him another photo of his daughter. “Well, isn’t that adorable, Dami?”

“I thought we went through this, Dick. Do not call me that please.” Damian chuckled, sitting on a chair opposite where Dick was sitting. He is now wearing a black shirt with a leather jacket and wore blue jeans.

“Sorry, habits. I mean, you are all grown up and even taller than me and Bruce. I cannot wait to see everyone’s reactions would be. Especially Raven’s.” Dick laughed wholeheartedly with Damian looking away from him with a expression of guilt.

“Oh, sorry, Damian. Uh, Alfred had told me that you two stopped contacting each other year ago.” Dick apologised quickly.

“It is quite alright. I just miss her, and I don’t want to be a failure in her eyes.” Damian said softly, looking out of the window in the private plane.

“Well, we are on our way back to Gotham and you’ll be seeing her. She doesn’t know that, and you can tell her once you seen her.” Dick said to him.

“Yes, indeed.” Alfred came into the room and poured some tea for the two men.

“Alfred, please, rest up. I can handle it.” Damian offered kindly and poured some tea for him.

“Thank you, Master Damian.” Alfred smiled, accepting the tea Damian had poured for him. he rested easily in his chair. “It has been a very long time since you had seen Miss Roth. She is a very gorgeous woman.”

“Yeah, no wonder you two always talk to each other a lot before. Ahh to be young and in love.” Dick sighed, remembering his days with Kori and their moments.

“I am not entirely sure Raven wants to rekindle our relationship. It will take a long time to amend things.” Damian reminded the two as he clasped his hands together. “I doubt she’ll remember me all this time.”

“Master Damian, I assure you that Miss Roth does care about you, sir. You just need to tell her the truth.” Alfred pointed out with a weary smile and drank his tea.

“Also, just be patient with her. Just take it slowly and talk to her.” Dick smiled at his brother. “So, ready to go back? We are almost in.”

Meanwhile in the café, Raven was cleaning up the last table of the night. She has been cleaning and clearing the tables. As well as putting all of the chairs on the table. “Thank you, Rachel! Sorry to keep you late at night.” Her boss apologised.

“No, no. Thank you. I needed this and besides, we were short on staff today. I don’t mind working late for you.” Raven smiled.

“Still, I feel bad. How about you take the rest of the week off? It will do you good.” Her boss smiled. They said their goodbyes with Raven walking out of the café and sighed deeply. She looked at her phone seeing more texts from Tara.

She raised an eyebrow and then saw a dozens of texts messages. She scrolled down and then her eyes widened in shock. She looked at the messages over and over. She cannot believe her eyes. Damian really came back from his five-year training! Her thoughts were all over the place and shut her phone off before teleporting her things to her apartment and went to an alley to change into her superhero costume.

She flew all the way to the Titans Tower and saw Tara was outside waiting for her. “I have seen your texts. Is it really true?” Raven asked urgently.

“Yes, it is. He’s all the news. He just landed in Gotham City.” Tara nodded, pulling her into the lounge room to hear the tv local news. Telling the story of the return of Damian Wayne’s return to Gotham City and had greeted his father, shaking his hand in front of the press and the cameras.

“Wow, he really has grown to be incredibly handsome.” Tara commented with a grin, nodding in approval seeing his strong and tall composure.

“Hey, Tara!” Gar pouted wile Tara smiled.

“Aww, don’t worry, chuckles, you’re my handsome man forever.” Tara chuckled, kissing him on the lips before pulling away to put the plates back on the counter. “Rach, don’t worry, I am sure everything will be back to normal. I’m sure he’ll come and visit.”

“I’ll help T. And Raven, we all are aware of what happened between the two of you, but it will help if you just talk.” Garfield said before he helped his girlfriend cleaning up the kitchen.

(~)

The next morning, Raven woke up to hearing Titus barking. She groaned and laughed, feeling him licking her face. “Oh! Come on! Okay! I’m up. I’m up.” She got up and then got the covers off of her. She walked towards her door and followed Titus into the living room to make breakfast for the both of them.

She bent down and pet Titus. “I have big news for you, big fella. Damian is back.” Raven said with Titus whined and tilted his head, licking her cheek. “Yeah, he is back, alright. After five long years.”

She made herself some tea and eggs with bread, sitting on her sofa, watching the news. Titus was sleeping beside her while she watched. “It has been said that Damian is now inheriting the Wayne Enterprises, taking over his father’s role.”

Raven remembered how Damian never wanted to inherit the company but now he is in charge of Wayne Enterprises, if he is happy then, he is happy. She’ll let him do whatever makes him happy. SH checked her phone and saw she was needed at the Tower.

Once she got that text, she immediately got dressed in her costume. She teleported herself in front of the Tower seeing Dick had come back and announced they have a mission. They were to go to Gotham City and help Batman to take down a few goons.

Raven made a portal for them to walk through with Nightwing leading the team. She flew over the buildings and then heard gun shots from a warehouse and saw people running out. She helped by putting a protective shield around the civilians.

Tara arrived with Raven in the warehouse and saw Batman fighting against Penguin’s goons. Tara used her powers with the rocks trapping the goon from escaping. The rest of the Titans arrived in time in helping the Dark Knight. He punched a few while he saw Raven on the ground, flipping away from the goon and kicked him on the face.

She levitated the boxes and they had hit the goons on the heads with Garfield turning into a gorilla helping Blue Beetle and Traci to round them up. Superboy and Wonder girl managed to get the remaining goons and tied them up with Donna’s lasso.

Conner smirked and crossed his arms. “Well, this was nice. Can’t remember the last time we all hung out as a team.” They all turned to Nightwing talking to Batman not far from them. “Since when Batman smiles…. Wait… no way!” Conner exclaimed in shock as he took a step back.

“What is it?” Donna asked.

“It’s… It’s….” Conner didn’t get the words out of his mouth until he watched Batman taking off his mask, revealing Damian wearing his father’s costume. Everyone gasped in shock with Gar fainted and fell on the ground.

“Dios Mio!” Jaime exclaimed in shock, looking at his former leader. Raven stood in shock with Tara by her side. She cannot believe her own very eyes, seeing Damian back in his father’s uniform as Batman, the Dark Knight.

“Hello, everyone.” Damian shown them his signature smirk and then it disappeared once he saw Raven standing next to Tara. He was both thrilled and nervous meeting her after 5 years. He was still enchanted by her beauty and calming presence. He has so many things to say to her. So many things he wanted to fix with her.

“H-Hey, Damian. It is great to see you buddy, and taller!” Jaime chuckled nervously, rubbing his neck, looking at how much his grown and how more muscular he is now.

“Yeah, now I can you Macho Muscles.” Tara chuckled with Donna laughing softly, silently agreeing with her.Gar managed to get up and looked at his muscles. They weren’t as muscular as Damian and pouted.

“So, how was training?” Conner asked excitedly wrapping an arm around his friend.

“Alright, we can talk about this after we get these guys arrested and then you all can catch up.” Nightwing winked at his brother who slightly glared at him. Damian put back his mask and walked beside his brother when the police had arrived.

Conner and Jaime handed the bad guys to the police with the girls helping the civilians as they all stared at Batman in awe. Raven watched closely and saw Damian going down to the kids level and talked to them. She was shocked to see how he was so calm around children now. It warmed her heart and was happy to see such a great development after 5 years.

She saw him finishing his interaction with the children and Gordan talked to him, thanking him before he walked away. Damian and Raven at last, looked at each other. He walked towards her and she was looking up at him. “Shall we talk some—” Damian heard his father was talking to him by a comm.

“Sorry, yes father…. Right away.” Damian sighed and looked down at the sorceress in front of him and looked at his friends. “Titans. How about one last mission and then we can all catch up for dinner?”

They all went back to Jump City and fought against criminals and had saved a few civilians from a burning building. Raven used her powers and summoned all water to put out the fire while Damian as Batman got a few people out of the building with the help of Superboy.

The building was falling down with Terra helped moving the rocks from the ground to prevent the upper part of the building not to fall down on other people while Jaime and Traci got the people out of the way. Once the fire had died out by the firefighter and the ambulance had come to their aid with the Titans and Batman stood by, seeing they were safe.

After a few minutes, Garfield’s stomach had rumbled loudly. It was loud enough for them to hear. Damian chuckled in amusement seeing his friends hasn’t changed that much and looked over at Raven who was giving back a doll to a little girl with a gentle and kind smile.

“So, aiming to get her back in your life?” Conner asked him.

Damian looked at him with an eyebrow’s furrowed together. “I… I don’t want to mess things up.”

“You won’t. Just talk to her, man. Anyway, Tara and I are going to cook a whole huge feast now that you’re here.” Gar grinned.

“Should we really trust him cooking our food?” Damian asked, looking at Jaime.

He just smiled nervously. “Don’t worry, Terra was the only one who cooked their meals.”

(~)

In the Titans Tower, Damian was changing out in his normal clothes in his old room. He forgotten how small it was. He smiled, remembering how he’d always train in his room and remembering the first time he saw Raven meditating down below underneath the tree.

He heard a knock on his door and turned to the door. “Come in.” The door opened and saw Raven in her purple shirt with a mini skirt with stockings. She stopped when she saw him shirtless, his strong muscles flexing while putting on his black t-shirt on.

“Uh, sorry, I was uh, telling you that dinner is almost ready.” Raven said timidly while Titus came in barking. Damian’s face lit up seeing his dog after a very long time as he licked his face. he almost fell on the floor. “Titus, behave.” Raven smiled a bit.

“Thank you for looking after him.” Damian thanked her while petting his dog.

“It was no problem. I love looking after him and his company in my apartment.” Raven replied with a smile. Damian looked up at her in confusion. He thought she was still living in the Tower after he had left for training.

“You are not living here anymore?” Damian asked, standing up.

“Yeah, I moved to an apartment in the city. And I am working in a book café.” Raven nodded while Titus was licking her hands.

“Oh, well, as long as you are happy.” Damian smiled at her and then they both heard Donna knocking on the door, announcing dinner was ready. They all walked down in the dining room, seeing the table decorated with some dinner cloths and the table has been changed from a white to a black dining table.

Damian was impressed by the meals Tara had cooked and Garfield was helping out, placing the food on the table. He noticed how Conner and Donna were on the balcony, talking and flirting with each other. And he was mostly surprised Jaime managed to finally have a girlfriend of his own.

“Alright, everyone, dinner time!” Tara smiled, sitting next to Gar. Everyone dug right in eating everything with their hearts contents. Damian was sitting next to Raven who was feeding Titus who was sitting down next to her chair. Dick and Kori arrived with some dessert. Mar’i came running towards Damian who carried her and let her sit on his lap. Everyone were happily chatting and catching up with Damian and him telling them about his training.

Dinner was over, Mar’i was already asleep with Titus sleeping next to her on the couch. Damian smiled at the little one with Dick sitting next to him smiling proudly and fondly at his daughter. “you should be proud, brother.”

“I am proud. Kori and I were having the life. The best in fact.” Dick chuckled wholeheartedly. “You know, you can have that life too, with Raven.”

The new Batman glanced at Raven who was helping washing the dishes with Kori and Tara. He frowned. “She must be mad at me not responding at all.”

“What? I’m sure she’ll understand.” Dick assured him while drinking his beer.

Dick and Kori had got Mar’i, managed not to disturb her sleep and decided to go back to their apartment. Tara already cleaned up her kitchen and let Raven and Damian off. “Thank you. The food was delicious, Tara.” Raven smiled.

“Yes, thank you.” Damian nodded in agreement.

“You’re welcome, you two. And Damian, do me a favour, please take Raven home safely.” Tara winked as the empath blushed bright pink.

The two walked out of the Tower seeing a car out in the front. Raven looked over at Damian who got out his car keys and started the car. He glanced over at Raven who was walking past him with a portal opening. “W-well, good night.” Raven timidly said to the new Dark Knight and was about to walk through the portal.

“Wait!” She turned back to see Damian was looking the right words. But nothing came out of his mouth. He rubbed his neck and before looking at Raven who stood patiently with her black and red ombre hair blowing in the wind gently while her eyes sparkle underneath the night sky.

She looked onto his emerald eyes, there were beautiful, and she’d always get lost in his emerald eyes. She watched him putting his hands in his pockets. “I thought we could talk.” Damian said to her.

“Yes. We could talk for a bit.” Raven nodded slowly.

“Well then, you may hop in my car.” Damian said as he walked around to the other side of the car and opened the door for her like a gentleman. Raven walked towards the car slowly and then went inside with him closing it.

Damian drove in an underground carpark underneath an apartment. He led raven and Titus the elevator, she noticed it goes all the way to the top. The very top of the building. Once the doors opened, she could see the whole city. Just before they went to his apartment, Raven gotten a few spare clothes and her books. She looked at the breathtaking view from outside of the window. She could see all of the lights in Jump City.

“It is not much like my father’s but, it will do.” Damian said, placing his luggage on the couch. “I hope it is alright.”

“It is rather a beautiful view from up here.” Raven smiled, looking out of the window. Damian smiled softly and walked towards her. Feeling that they were slowly opening up to each other after being apart for a very long time.

“I should apologise.” Damian apologised, putting his hands behind his back, looking out of the window by her side.

“For what?” Raven asked even though she knew what he was going to say and how he felt.

“Not being able to contact you. I was…. So solely focused on with my training. Not telling what was my reason for not contacting you sooner.” Damian explained looking down at her.

“Damian, it is fine. You just wanted to prove to your father that you’re not a failure and have no interruptions.” Raven said looking away with a frown and hugged herself.

“That was the reason and there was another.” Damian said turning his whole body away from the window, making him facing her completely. “I didn’t want you to think of me as a failure. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Raven looked up at him and her expression softened. She reached to caress his strong jaw, cheeks and looked into his charming emerald eyes. Damian let out ragged breaths looking into her violet eyes until he leaned down and planted a gentle, soft kiss with her placing her small hands on his chest.

They kissed deeply with them exploring each other’s mouth. Damian wrapped his arms around her waist, grabbed her thighs, making her wrap her legs around his waist. He carried her carefully, feeling her soft curves, exploring her whole body, and massaged, groping her ass with her moaning with satisfied pressure. He sat down on his couch, devouring her lips, tasting blueberry flavour from her.

She panted softly with him peppered her neck with soft kisses with her holding onto him tightly, biting her lip. He kept on feeling every bit of her body and he pulled away from her neck, panting heavily and looked into her eyes and went to lean in for another kiss but she brushed her fingers on his lips, stopping him from doing so.

“Um, sorry, uh, it’s not that I don’t want to continue… I just want to freshen up first…. If that’s alright.” Raven half whispered and panted, looking at him while pressing her forehead on his.

“Of course, you may. There’s a shower upstairs on your left.” Damian whispered back, letting her got off of him and let her take a shower first. She quickly grabbed her clothes and ran up the stairs and she bit her lips excitedly, running up the stairs.

Damian chuckled in amusement, seeing her running up the stairs with an ecstatic smile. He stood up and went to get his stuff away in his new room. It was spacious and had two cardboards. He opened the doors to the cardboards and placed his shirts and his pants inside. He heard whining from Titus who tugged on his pants. “Okay, okay, buddy. I can show you your new place to sleep.”

He led Titus to a small space in the lounge and shown him his little bed. He wagged his tail happily and started to play with his toy. Damian also sorted out his items and looked at the time, it was getting late and he should take a shower as well, only to notice that Raven has been in the shower for a very long time.

Raven sighed softly and felt the warm water touching her skin and melted. She loved the shower he had in his new apartment. His bathroom was…. All black and the lights inside the shower was dimmed in a lighter shade of blue. The toilet seat was not far from the shower as it was adjacent to the sink.

Next to the shower was the large silver bathtub and then the door, the only entrance and exit of the bathroom. She was surprised at how large the bathroom was. As expected, he was the rich son of Bruce Wayne. Just like Dick but he still chose a normal lifestyle he wanted to live in for his growing family. She wondered if she could ever have that kind of life.

She heard the doors opening and she quickly covered herself with her purple towel and saw Damian leaning on the door frame with a smirk on his face. “Damian! Get out! I-I’m trying to take a shower and your…… naked!” Raven exclaimed as she turned away from him after a few good seconds of staring at his…….. Oh Azar! His… his….

“Sorry Rachel, I thought you were in the guest room’s toilet.” Damian chuckled, covering his waist with a spare towel that was hanging on the railing on the wall near the door.

“And I thought this was the guest room.” Raven thought, turning to him again and covered herself with her drenched towel. She took a good look at his muscles, broad chest and his scars on his arms, neck, and chest.

“You like what you see, Roth?” Damian smirked with his dangerously glowing and charming green eyes stared into hers.

“Yes, I-I mean n-No!” Raven stammered, turning away from him. “Ca-Can you please let me shower in peace?”

Damian hummed softly and walked slowly toward the shower, opened the door with the water hitting his chest and looked at Raven’s small figure as she turned around. Seeing him so up close. He knew she was still processing that he had came back after five years and won’t do anything further to make her uncomfortable.

She trailed her fingers along his arms, his biceps and her eyes were locked with his. She eventually threw her towel away and let him see her hourglass body and her breasts. He let his hand wonder around her figure, and he placed gentle kisses on her neck and at the same time closing the shower door.

Raven held his face in her hands with her kissing his lips softly yet firm with his arms on her waist. Damian moaned and melted in the kiss, she was a bit shorter than him, he lifted her again and had his hand caressing the back of her head and pinned her on the wall of the shower. They kissed and devoured each other, he licked her neck and ears with her whimpering, holding his shoulders.

She wrapped her legs around his waist with her caressing his face and neck as they kissed deeply, exploring their tongues, the taste of their lips. Damian kissed and bit her bottom lip and stared into her eyes. She trembled in place, but his soft touch had comforted her silently that he will stop if he did made her feel uncomfortable.

She trusts him as he trusts her with all of their hearts. She breathed out shakily with him slowly trailing his kisses and then groped and massaged her breasts gently with her biting her lips. She let out a soft gasp, holding him closely to her chest. “D-Dami.”

Damian licked her nipple making her whine and moan loudly, she covered her mouth immediately. He smirked and pulled her hand away. “Please, I want to hear that soft angelic voice.” Damian grinned, licking her face and her right ear.

She growled softly. “I….am a half demon… not an angel, if I must remind you again.”

“You may be a half demon… but you are so much more than. You’re an angel. My angel.” Damian confessed softly, putting her strands of wet hair out of the way. He let her stand on the floor and he let her be in control.

She explored all of his scars. She gasped softly seeing how large the scar on his chest was. She began kissing his chest with him groaning softly. Caressing her head while she kissed every scar she could find on his body. She pinned him on the other wall below the shower head. Both of them were drenched with water running on them. She felt his muscles and then let her hand explore his manhood. He grunted softly feeling her massaging it softly.

She bent down and started to lick it slowly as she began to suck it. Damian grunted while holding her hand. “R-Rachel.” She moaned and licked every bit of him, she began squeezing his legs while sucking and licking his dick.

Damian groaned softly thinking how she could lick it so passionately and effortlessly. He looked down seeing her wiping her mouth, seeing how much he came. He sighed in pleasure and panted softly with her standing up again, kissing him on the lips deeply while she stroked his dick slowly and steady.

“You really do like that, don’t you?” Raven whispered, against his lips while his tongue slipped in her mouth, moaned. She rubbed her legs together against his cock. She watched his reactions while she slowly grind against him in a steady rhythm. He looked into her eyes and looked into his eyes once again as if she couldn’t wait.

He looked at her with a serious expression and held out his hand out to her. She gladly accepted and held his hand. He turned off the faucet, ran his hand through his slicked wet hair. Damian and Raven kept making out until they both stumbled towards the sink with him lifting her up, Raven played with his locks, moaning into the kiss.

He opened the door and led her to his bed room with the lights off and lamps on but dimmed with the colour blue and red mixed together. Damian sat on the bed with her intertwined their hands together and she pinned him on his bed before kissing him again. She pulled back again, looking at him while he stares at her. She held his hands, never letting go of them and placed them on her chest.

Damian sat up and licked every part of her chest and neck with his dick sticking out in front of her clit. She moaned and sighed softly, tilting her head back. He kissed and licked he rub cage while rubbing and massaged her breasts, this time little bit more rough.

His eyes looked up again with her kissing his forehead and cheeks, biting, and licking his ear. He held small body with his strong arms. He rubbed his dick in her clit, making her shouting out and murmuring words. “Sorry, you don’t want to do this?” Damian panted, caressing both sides of her cheeks.

He heard her mumbled something underneath her breath. “What is it?” Damian asked again, looking at her, having his full attention on her.

“You can do it. Put it in.” Raven replied. “But with protection, please.”

He nodded in understanding as he let her get off his lap and walked to his cupboard, getting a condom while watching her every move. She laid her back on his bed, legs spread wide open. He gotten hard again and crawled on the bed again, his eyes went straight at her clit and began licking it while he massaged her breasts. She moaned loudly, biting her lips and tilted her head while he began to lick it with passion and inserted a finger, making her shouting out, holding his sheets tightly while feeling so good from his touch that made her shudder.

He smirked, putting one more and made her cum with covering his fingers, making her humping into his hand. He sat up on his knees with her looking up at him with an embarrassed look. He was enjoying watching her reactions, seeing her beautiful body in front of him. He was grateful that he was going to make her his.

He placed rubbed his cock against her clit, making her moan again and rubbed against it. She looked into his eyes and trailed her fingers on his abs and scars that were covered in sweat until she felt his cock was going in quickly and she shouted out both in pain and pleasure with digging her long nails on his back with him hugging her tightly with their chests touching one another.

They both panted heavily and looked at one another. “C-Can I move now? If you want me to stop, you can just shove me, Rachel.” Damian assured her until he felt her pulling him into her strong hold.

“No. Keep moving.” Raven trembled and whispered in his ear. Damian wasted no time and began grinding and thrusting softly. “D-Dami.” She could feel it twitching inside of her. He began to pick up the pace hearing her loud cries while holding her in his arms.

He let her go and pinned both of her wrists on the bed and with every thrust he made. Made her feel like she was in the stars and in heaven. He panted heavily and grunted with every thrust he made. He gritted his teeth and lifted her up, sat down on the bed with her wrapping her arms around his neck, began to thrust harder and faster with her shouting out in pleasure and scratching his back.

They both leaned for one final kiss and with a few thrusts, they both grunted and shouted with her back arched with her legs wrapped around his waist. She had Damian’s face buried in her chest. They both laid down back on the bed, panting tiredly with sweat all over their body and their bodies intertwined with each other. Damian laid on his pillow, watching his beloved to sleep and he pulled the covers on them and fell into deep sleep with content smiles.

(~)

Raven woke up and opened her eyes slowly seeing a naked scarred chest. She looked up to see Damian already up, staring at her. She covered herself but still smiled at him, caressing his cheek while he kissed her palm. “Good morning, beloved.”

“Good morning, Dami.” Raven smiled lovingly at him.

“Hope it was okay.” Damian hoped while playing with her hair.

She looked at him in confusion until she figured what he had meant, and she smiled at him in reassurance. “Dami… it was the best night of my life. And you were more than okay.” She trailed her fingers over his lips with his emerald eyes shining brightly.

He smiled in relief, seeing his love was satisfied from last night’s…. activity. “That is a relief.” He sat up on his bed. “So… what shall we do today? Unless you have work later on.”

“Hmm, well, my boss let me have the week off. How about you?” Raven asked, making circles on his chest. “We could have dinner at my place and have a repeat at my place. We can have Titus with Dick and Kori.”

“I am off until tonight, I am meeting my father later. Sorry.” Damian sent her an apologetic expression with her sitting up, letting him seeing her chest.

“It’s alright, I can wait for you…unless you want to do it again.” Raven seductively whispered in his ear while kissing his neck and him laying down back on his pillow with a smirk. She was straddling him, and she trailed her hands up on his chest, making him shudder softly.

“That would be splendid, beloved.” Damian smirked with her smiling brightly as the two laughed happily as they were in each other’s arms after five years, happy to be in each other’s embrace and were assured that they’ll be together from now on to overcome whatever throws at them.

#damirae #fanfiction #my fanfiction #Damian Wayne #raven]#damian x raven #garfield x terra #jaime reyes #traci thirteen #Donna Troy #superboy #nightwing #starfire #Teen Titans

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