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floralseokjin · 5 years ago

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⤑ made-up love song ii.

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher living with your best friend, and have never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual smut, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, things are heating up! the phrase ‘dilf dick’ gets thrown around way too much, RJ and taehyung cameo, hoseok, yoongi and namjoon are mentioned, as well as jungkook if you squint words; 12,169

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

After Seokjin dropped you off at the station, he and Arin waving you goodbye, it would be two weeks later when you saw him again. Not that you were holding out on it or anything… No way… That would be ludicrous.

The last week of school was always hectic, activities and games top priority now that teaching had come to a standstill. The children were hyper, the teacher’s worn out, but without fail you always looked forward to the summer fate. Head of the committee every year, you and a handful of your fellow teachers organised each game, each stall and each prize. As well as wanting the children to have fun, it was also an opportunity to celebrate their achievements throughout the year with their families. There were an arrange of awards for most subjects, third through to first place for each grade, and this year you’d convinced the principal, Mr. Jung, to include a new creative writing award. It wasn’t technically a subject – you already had the spelling bee for English class, but he’d thought it was a great idea to celebrate the students’ talents in a brand new way.

Of course, there was one child you had in mind when you’d gone to him with the idea – Arin. It was only fair in your eyes, she’d been with you not even three months and hadn’t had a chance like the other kids. The other awards were spoken for but you wanted her to at least get something, just so first grade could end on a good note for her and help her look forward to September.

You were at the entrance of the fate, in casual conversation with Mrs. Jeon as well as greeting the students’ families, when you caught a glimpse of Seokjin. He was hand in hand with Arin who skipped happily beside him. He was wearing a sea green thin sweater, that blew in the light breeze, and black jeans. He was even in sneakers. Way more unbelievable than the slippers. He looked effortlessly good, and you thought you preferred him like this, casually dressed. The suits were great yes, but he looked far more attainable like this. Not that you wanted to attain him.

Damn it.

You tried your best to ignore the strange heat that had seemed to settle in your chest at the sight of him, the faintest flurry of what could only be described as butterflies aggravating your stomach. What the hell? What was wrong with you?

“Hello, Miss.” Arin grinned, giving you a small wave, and you shook yourself out of it.

“Hi, Arin,” you waved back, of course catching Seokjin’s eyes in the process.

“Miss. Y/L/N,” he greeted, the hint of a smirk across his mouth. Teasing, again. Two could play at that game.

“Mr. Kim,” you replied, unable to keep a straight face – especially when you heard him laugh as he passed by you.

You watched him walk off, secretly pleased now that you knew he was here. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, wouldn’t dare tell anyone, but you’d been hoping he’d be free to attend the fate. To see Arin receive her reward, of course – nothing else. But, okay, maybe you had spent an embarrassingly long time choosing which dress to wear last night. Not that you wanted to impress him, more like… stand out.

“Who is he?” Mrs. Jeon whispered animatedly – hopefully out of earshot and once again knocking some sense back into you.

You tried to sound casual, like you weren’t aware of Seokjin’s jaw-dropping good looks – or more so, that they didn’t affect you whatsoever. “A student’s father.”

She made a noise of disbelief. “He is just pure… sex on legs.”

“Eunbi!” You exclaimed, taken by such surprise you used her first name. She burst out laughing, something you couldn’t ignore and ended up in a fit of giggles yourself.

“Behave.” You warned, trying to compose yourself. “You’re a married woman.” You’d attended her wedding last summer, bringing along Soojung as your plus one.

“Looking is still allowed,” she replied, making you both explode into laughter once again.

You were giddy. Really, what was up with you?

The afternoon was a success, the children and their families enjoying immensely, as well as the teachers. It was your job to announce the creative writing reward and it was so heart-warming to see how happy it made Arin to come first place. She held her little trophy and movie theatre vouchers proudly for the camera, Seokjin looking just as over the moon as her. Mr. Jung convinced him to join for a few snaps and you looked on with a polite smile. Other than earlier and a thank you as you passed the prize to Arin, those had been your only interactions with Seokjin for the day and now the fate was drawing to a close. You wouldn’t say you were disappointed, because that would be preposterous, but if those were going to be your only exchanges then it made the times he’d fleeted into your mind these past couple of weeks highly embarrassing…

It wasn’t as if you wanted to think about him, he just kept popping up. First you blamed Soojung, who wouldn’t shut up about Mr. Dilf for a few days after the exchange at his house (mansion), but soon the topic bored her, no new developments to keep her hooked. You on the other hand found yourself imagining instances where you’d bump into one another again. You know, happenstances… Like if he had the time to drop Arin off at school, although you doubted he’d end up in the staff parking lot again… You’d had a good giggle to yourself remembering his face when he’d realised.

Other incidents were less realistic, like maybe he’d drop off a thank you present the students liked to gift to say goodbye, or maybe you’d bump into him at the grocery store, the park – highly improbable, but you found yourself thinking all these things when you were procrastinating or trying to get to sleep.

Even now as you tried to win a prize at the Ring Toss stall – don’t ask how much money you’d already spent – (obviously using your free time wisely before you were needed again), you found yourself disappointed that things hadn’t worked out quite like you’d imagined today. You were being stupid. The guy was supposed to annoy the heck out of you, yet here you were unable to stop thinking about him. It had been a long time since a man had gotten you this distracted. A really long time…

“Can I help?”

You jumped at the sound of Seokjin’s voice, granted you were in deep concentration, about to launch the hoop, but you felt like you’d been caught doing something wrong. As if he knew you’d been thinking about him, caught you in the act. You whipped your head up, forcing yourself to relax and smile.

“I’ve been watching you try to win for the past ten minutes.” He chuckled. Great. How embarrassing. He stepped closer. “What do you have your eyes so set on?”

Oh, god. Even more embarrassing. You had a split second to make a decision. Be truthful or lie and choose something else. You know what, who cared? You were thirty and still loved stuffed animals. It wasn’t out of the ordinary.

“The alpaca.” You pointed to the white fluffy animal sat on the top shelf. With his cute round face and a red scarf wrapped around his neck, he was adorable and you really wanted him.

Seokjin wasn’t fazed at all. “He’s cute. I’ll try but don’t get your hopes up, okay?”

You nodded and handed him the hoops. He needed to loop all three around the skittles. You watched him with anticipation, thinking to yourself this definitely wasn’t one of your fantasies, but you liked it regardless. Liked it even better when Seokjin managed to win.

“Thank you, Seokjin,” you smiled, his name still feeling strange to say aloud. The man in charge of the game passed you your new ‘pet’ and you held it fondly, unable to stop yourself. Your landlord didn’t allow animals so you’d had to improvise over the years. You’d never had an alpaca before, but you were sure he’d fit right in.

“No problem, I’m glad I could be of service.” He chuckled.

There was a silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable but it was new. You were so used to Seokjin joking about you were expecting him to take the lead. Today he was quiet, actually right now he looked pretty awkward.

You opened your mouth to ask him how he was when you suddenly realised something. How stupid of you. You’d been so distracted by the stuffed animal you hadn’t realised a little certain someone was missing. “Where’s Arin?”

“She’s playing with a friend and their family.” You watched him scratch the back of his neck, looking at you, but not really making eye contact. “Y/N, do you maybe want to take a walk? We could find some where to sit and talk?”

“About what?” You could’ve kicked yourself. Why did you have to ask that? You were just a little dazed from hearing him say your name again.

“Uh, just about Arin really.”

You didn’t really know what you’d been expecting so any answer would’ve surprised you, but you nodded, taking him up on the offer. “Okay.”

You knew a bench away from the fate but still on school grounds, and you walked side by side, noticing just how tall and broad he was. His shoulders looked unbelievable in that sweater, and it hugged his chest perfectly when the light breeze of the afternoon hit him, his well-built chest visible. Not that you were staring or anything, you just happened to notice…

You small talked along the way. Not much, mostly about the fate, but it was enough for you to hit your destination without any awkward silence. You wracked your brains as you sat, wondering what he had to say about Arin. Maybe he wanted to discuss her stories more, thank you for the prize she’d won. What you did know though, was that his cologne really did smell amazing. It was woody, maybe spicy, and just plain addicting. This close proximity was wreaking havoc with you again. You sat the alpaca between you both on bench, acting as a barrier for your sanity.

Seokjin patted its head absentmindedly before he side-eyed you, that amused smile you’d become familiar with upturning the corners of his mouth. “You seem a lot less scrappy today.”

You raised both eyebrows, thrown for a moment. “Scrappy?”

“Yes,” he chuckled, “a lot less intimidating.”

You? Intimidating? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? The sheer power of Seokjin’s brow line alone could bring a person to quivering knees, and that wasn’t mentioning the obvious, like you know, his face. However, he seemed genuine enough. You didn’t really consider yourself feisty, but then again, when pushed to your limits maybe something just snapped inside of you. You had powers you weren’t aware of, obviously. Better own them then…

You gave a small shrug, smirking slightly. “Maybe I’ve chosen to forgive and forget.”

He chuckled again, genuinely amused, but you sensed some reluctance his end, a slight awkwardness. Was he stalling? You suddenly grew a little nervous. The dynamics you’d grown somewhat used to during your last few encounters had shifted without you knowing. Seokjin was a lot less teasing today. How come?

“So,” you pressed carefully, unable to handle the anticipation. “What was it you wanted to say?”

He lifted his head up, warm eyes meeting yours and your insides did that flurrying thing again. Your imagination hadn’t concocted this. When he smiled you realised how kind it was – how kind it could be when he wasn’t being infuriating. “I just want to thank you.”

Your eyes widened before you could control the surprise. “Thank me?”

He nodded, relaxing a little now, pressing his back into the bench. “For being such an amazing teacher to Arin these past couple of months.”

Of course, Arin. That’s what he’d said in the beginning, right? He wanted to sit and talk about Arin.

“That’s really no problem,” you smiled. It was your job after all. Yes, teachers liked being appreciated for their hard work, but personally, praise sent you a little red in the face.

You didn’t know if he heard you, already continuing, as if he’d rehearsed what he wanted to say. “It’s been really hard on her, the change – you know, uprooting the life she knew to come and live with me. New school, making new friends. She was incredibly worried, but you made it so much easier for her.”

Looking at you again, sounding so genuine, you found yourself freezing. You stumbled a little over your words before managing to come up with something functional. “Of course, it’s my job to make every student comfortable in my class.” You were sure any teacher would’ve treated her with the same kindness and care. But, yes, truthfully you had become very fond of her in such a short time. You wanted him to know that in a roundabout way. “I’ll miss her come September.”

He gave you an appreciative smile. “She’ll miss you too.”

Serious Seokjin always threw you. Maybe it was because you had to accept that you’d misjudged him completely. He wasn’t the rich pompous jerk you’d first thought the morning he’d hit your car. You had to admit that like this he impressed and intrigued you. It was why you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him these past two weeks. Which was stupid because you doubted he was doing the same.

“Thanks for choosing her to win that writing competition, by the way.” His voice brought you back to Earth, concentrating on him again to find that mischievous grin all over his face. “Even if you didn’t like the way it ended.”

You scoffed. Was he ever going to drop that? He knew that wasn’t the case. He’d asked for the damn pointer himself. “Well, if Lewis Carroll did it.”

“Kim Arin can too?” He finished, both of you instantly laughing. Once it petered off, he tilted his head to the side, gazing at you almost. It made you fidget a little, getting flustered. “She’s really fond of you. I meant what I said at the parent-teacher meeting.”

God, you really were horrendous at taking compliments. Especially from a man that already made you feel funny.

“She’s always speaking about how kind and lovely you are.” A pause. "...How pretty you are.” You froze. He hesitated, contemplating something in his head it seemed. He looked you straight in the eyes and said casually, “I have to admit, I agree."

Oh. What?! You felt heat begin to travel up your face, your cheeks burning and you prayed it wasn't visible. You didn't know what to reply, but thankfully (perhaps) Seokjin simply carried on, hopefully oblivious to your awkward reaction. You should bypass it too. It probably didn't mean anything. He was just being polite, right?

“Realising it was your car I hit made me feel even guiltier." He shook his head regretfully. "I really am sorry for all that. The damage, stealing your car."

"It's fine, Seokjin." He hadn’t really stolen your car, you’d been extremely overdramatic there. He'd apologised enough already. You were over it. You had two days left of school, the summer all yours, your mood was much better. Let bygones be bygones.

“Yeah but, I should’ve never gotten your car towed. I realise I was out of line. You said you didn’t want my help but I didn’t listen."

You nodded, listening to him, aware he needed to say this. Again, it seemed as if he'd rehearsed it almost, or maybe it was the professional in him. You were too damn stubborn so he wasn't all to blame. You smiled appreciatively, fighting your hand's strange urge to pat his shoulder. It was maybe best that you didn't touch him. Instead you gave a teasing grin. “But you still won’t let me pay you back?”

He whined – or at least that's the only way you could describe it. It tugged at something inside your chest. Maybe it was more like a wail. Less cute. He couldn't believe you were back on that.

"I'm just messing around," you laughed, trying to compose yourself to let him know something too. “While we're on apologies... I'm sorry for being so short with you annnd for calling you a car thief."

He chuckled, brushing a hand through his hair. Oh, it was pushed back above his forehead again today. You hadn't noticed, too distracted by what? His sneakers? The outfit as a whole? His face? “I deserved it, let’s be honest."

"Maybe in the beginning," you admitted carefully, causing him to laugh harder.

“I was way too preoccupied when I hit you. With work and promising Arin I’d drop her off at school – because shamefully I’d never done it before." He turned a little pensive at that, lost in his own thoughts.

“You must be really busy," you said, voice soft. There was no way he could do it all. Work seemingly six days a week and still try to be there for Arin 24/7.

He looked across at you, an eyebrow quirking slightly. What was he surprised by? That you were sympathising with him? He nodded slowly. “It’s just hard learning to juggle everything. Don’t get me wrong, I love having her with me every day, but...”

“I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it soon.” You wanted to say it would be summer break soon enough, but then on second thoughts, maybe that would make things even harder.

“Yeah, maybe,” he shrugged, changing the subject back to you. “Besides, me being busy doesn’t really excuse the fact I hit you. I mean, what if god forbid you’d been walking past my car instead, it doesn’t bear thinking about.” He looked beside himself at just the idea.

“But I wasn’t,” you reminded him, “so it’s perfectly okay.”

“You’re right,” he murmured, giving you a small smile that rounded his cheeks.

There was silence then, where you waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t. Was that all he’d wanted to talk about? To thank you for being a kind teacher to Arin and to say sorry once again for the car debacle? For some reason you felt eager to keep the conversation going. It was an urge deep inside you that acted on its own accord.

“So, what do you do?” You asked, trying your best to sound casual. Not that you weren’t casual. You just didn’t want to make it seem like you were desperate for small talk. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Again, he looked vaguely surprised. What, that you were interested in him? No, that was phrased wrong. That you were interested. He didn’t meet your eyes as he replied. “I, uh, I’m the CEO of LG. I took over from my father about three years ago.”

You swore your eyes bugged out of their sockets you were so overcome with shock. You were glad he wasn’t looking at you as you tried to pull it together. “The LG?”

Like one of the biggest companies in the country LG? He was way too young surely? Weren’t those type of CEOs old and round looking?

Seokjin chuckled, finally looking you in the eyes. “Unless you know another one.”

You were speechless, well aware you needed to actually say something in reply instead of gawping but what? What could you say to that? “I guess that explains why you’re always so busy then.”

God, why? Of all the things, why that? Well done for stating the obvious, Y/N.

Seokjin gave you a modest smile. “It’s difficult, yes. Trying to manage work and being effectively a single dad, but I really am trying.” He shook his head slightly, as if he was telling himself off. “I missed her so much these past couple of years, so to finally have her living with me is a dream come true. I’m trying to be the best father I can but I guess it’s a work in progress.”

You weren’t expecting him to be this open with you at all. But maybe Soojung wouldn’t be so surprised. She and a bunch of your other friends, even acquittances said that you were easy to confide in. That you listened well and didn’t try to solve everything. You didn’t know how true that was but you didn’t mind listening to him right now. Sometimes confiding in a stranger just worked.

“Arin obviously adores you.” You smiled. “I could see that the day I dropped your car back.”

He gave you a tiny smile of thanks but sighed softly. “I just want her to always be happy. I know coming from a broken home may make that statement hypocritical but…”

“Not at all,” you insisted. “If a relationship isn’t working out then you need to do what’s best for your child, and you.” That was important too. “I mean, my parents divorced when I was quite young and I have a million and one happy memories growing up.”

You grew a little self-conscious, thinking that you were oversharing, but he seemed happy to hear it, perking up a little. “Really?”

“Yep. They beat the ones I have of them yelling at one another.”

He gave a bitter chuckle then, nodding in agreement. “That’s right. It’s just…” He paused and you wondered if he was going to carry on. Was it bad that you felt curious? You liked seeing this side of Seokjin, it wasn’t how your fantasies had gone at all, it was better. Things had taken an unexpected turn but it just seemed to fit. It seemed natural. It felt nice to talk to him like this. Suddenly you didn’t seem so different. Despite the contrasts in your job and lifestyle, they weren’t very apparent here on this bench…

“My ex-wife is… she lives a busy life – even busier than mine. But she loves it. She goes looking for it.” Seokjin explained. You listened politely. “That’s why Arin had to start living with me, and even though I’m pulled thin, I still try to make enough time for my daughter, no matter the day, no matter the time, no matter anything. Nana doesn’t…”

Nana? That was her name. You imagined someone slim and beautiful, it was only fitting seeing as Seokjin was the man she was married to once upon a time. Beauty attracted beauty.

“Is that why you divorced?” Okay, maybe you were prying now. You hoped he didn’t find it rude.

He didn’t. “There were a lot of reasons,” he answered honestly. “It was as much my fault as it was hers. We were going in different directions and had fallen out of love. It’s been a while now, nearly two years, I’m fine.” He met your eyes at the last part, as if he wanted you to understand that. Or maybe you were reading it wrong. Why would he want you to know that?

“Does she live far?” You remembered Arin’s disappointment that weekend when her mom had cancelled their plans. Maybe she lived a while away and it was hard to commute with Arin back and forth.

“No, just in the next city. It’s not far at all. She’s really high up in an accounting firm there. That’s why when we divorced I moved closer to my building here. See, that’s what annoys me the most,” Seokjin scoffed, an edge to his voice now. Oh shoot, you’d made a mistake with that question. “It’s really no distance at all, so why can’t she spare one single day for Arin?”

You made a sympathetic face, unsure what to say. You decided on honesty. “I’m sorry, I can’t even begin to imagine how all that feels.”

Break-ups and divorces were hard yes, but when a child was stuck in the middle a tonne of other complications arose. As a teacher you understood that very well, but as a long-time single woman, maybe not. It had been a while since you’d opened your heart to someone, your life taking a very different turn to what you’d expected three years ago. Not that you minded, you liked where you were heading right now, comfortable and at ease. There was nothing missing. You had your friends and family and that was enough. You hoped Seokjin had people around him too.

“No, I’m the one that should apologise,” he said suddenly, face tinged with colour, as if he was embarrassed. “I’m offloading onto you, that isn’t fair.”

“I don’t mind.” Honestly, you didn’t at all. It wasn’t even offloading, more so a conversation. You were getting to know him.

“You’re just so easy to talk to and I got a bit caught off guard when you started asking about me.” He admitted, his warm eyes finding yours.

Oh. So now you knew for definite he was indeed surprised by all your questions. When was the last time he’d spoken about all that stuff relating his ex-wife? Had he ever spoken about it at all?

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you today.”

His words caught your attention, interrupting your thoughts and in the process confusing you greatly. You raised a questioning eyebrow. What did he mean?

“When I asked you to take a walk I did want to thank you for being so kind to Arin and to apologise for the car trouble, but there was also something else…” You waited patiently, heart thudding quite roughly against your chest for some reason. He looked nervous again. Nervous and awkward just like earlier, before you’d distracted him.

He chose a new direction. One that left you a little dazed. “Y/N, would I be crossing the line if I said I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you lately?” His dark brown eyes searched for any reaction across your face.

“Me?” You asked quietly.

He chuckled bashfully. “Yeah.”

Somehow you found your voice. Well, some of it anyway. “No, it’s not crossing the line.” You wanted to tell him just the same. How he’d slipped into your mind at random times of the day and how you’d secretly been holding out on another meeting. How you’d been anticipating today. But none of that came in your stunned state. Seokjin had been thinking about you? The annoying, exasperating so-and-so hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you?

He instantly looked relieved – and pleased – at your answer. “I’m glad.” A pause as he hesitated. “Do you maybe want to… go out for dinner this Saturday?” He sounded hopeful, adding quickly, “with me, obviously.”

You would’ve giggled at that but nothing was working. You needed to process his question. He was asking you for dinner?

“My way of apologising for everything, my treat…” You guessed he felt the need to explain now, a little panicked by your reaction (or no reaction.) “For hitting your car and towing it away without your permission.”

You laughed then. Just like that your shock dispersing. He was so oblivious it hurt, and now you knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose. He really was that unaware. “So you want to spend more of your money on me?”

You weren’t mad, of course. He knew that, laughing too as he weighed up your reply. “I see the problem.” You snickered, your gaze intimately locking with his in the process. “So, what do you say?” He murmured. “I mean, it’s for a plethora of things really. The car business, all you’ve done for Arin. One massive thank you.”

Oh. You were getting mixed messages here. Was this an apology dinner, a thank you dinner? Or something more? Maybe he read the questioning in your eyes because he was rushing to say more. “As well as just wanting to enjoy your company. I feel like I talked too much about myself today, I’d like to get to know you too…”

Okay, now this sounded awfully like a date… And that word freaked you out. Had you not just been thinking about how happily single you’d been for three years and how all you needed were your friends and family? But honestly, you were getting ahead of yourself. It was one dinner. There was no way to predict the outcome and you shouldn’t even be thinking that far ahead. Sometimes you didn’t need to think. You needed to remember that. Sometimes it was just good to act in the moment. Take cautious to the wind and accept this incredibly handsome man’s dinner invitation, whatever his intention was.

You smiled. “Dinner sounds lovely.”

Seokjin’s eyes widened a tad, surprise visible and he didn’t try to hide it. “Really?” You laughed and nodded. Really you should be the one still shocked, because despite everything – the misjudgements, the attitude, the way you’d been itching for numerous fights with him, it was a wonder why he still wanted to be anywhere near you. …Maybe he liked that… Maybe he liked you? Or were you absolutely barking mad?

“Can I have your number to arrange everything?”

You went to relay it to him, watching him pull his phone from out his front jean pocket but then remembered something. “Oh, I already have yours, should I just text you?”

“That’s my work phone. Maybe we should swap personal phone numbers?”

You mean, you only had one phone, but it made sense why he had two. You were still stuck on the personal part though. A little dazed (and excited) as he saved your number into his phonebook. Your phone was locked up in your classroom, so you couldn’t take his but no matter, you’d just save it once he messaged you.

Seokjin glanced at his watch – an expensive looking thing, but that was really no surprise now – and hummed. “We should head back, the fate will be finishing soon.”

You made more small talk as you walked back, Seokjin wondering if you had any allergies or a special diet so he could bear it in mind when he chose a restaurant. Luckily for you no, but you found out that he was allergic to garlic and potatoes, which seemed ridiculous and highly unfair. But he did admit that he ignored it sometimes, which resulted in disaster often because garlic made him itch like crazy. You had a good laugh over that.

“So, what are you going to name him?” Seokjin asked, stroking the top of your alpaca’s head who was hooked against your hip as you walked.

“Hm. I don’t know.” You shrugged, turning to him. “You decide? You did win him after all.”

“Hmmm,” he thought aloud. A few seconds later he came up with something. “How about RJ?”

“RJ?”

Seokjin chuckled. “Yeah, it’s cute.”

Smiling, you had to agree. “Yeah, it is.” You held the stuffed animal up in front of you, tilting your head to the side. “RJ the alpaca. Perfect.”

Still walking as you spoke, you felt Seokjin move in, hovering his hand behind the small of your back in case you stumbled, your attention elsewhere. You felt the same warmth you had the day he’d called you by your name for the first time…

Of course you had to tell Soojung about the events of the day. It wasn't as if you could keep it a secret – and it wasn't as if you wanted to, you just knew what would happen... She was like a dog with a bone, unable to give it up, making you recall every minute detail down to the socks he was wearing (black, by the way, to match his jeans. You had indeed noticed).

“He’s so smart. He waits until you’re not this kid’s teacher anymore and then BAM, do you want to go on a date?”

“Soojung, it’s not a date," you sighed. “He’s just…being nice."

You were still reluctant to call it a date, because well, he hadn't used the word himself. You didn't want to get your hopes up. Although you would never admit that to her, you knew she understood, in her own roundabout way.

“Being nice?!” She exclaimed, scoffing absurdly loud.

You shrugged. “Yeah, thanking me."

She spluttered, as if she found you terribly naive. “What, thanks for being kind to my daughter? SHUT UP, it’s your job! No, he wants to give you that Dilf dick!"

“Oh, my god. Soojung!” You hushed, immediately feeling your face burn. The thought hadn't even crossed your mind because it was so unbelievable.

Saturday was not that long away, the last two days of school flew by, and whilst you were emotional, your mind was also a little too preoccupied with the weekend and what it all meant. Gradually, you’d finally had to admit to yourself that this was probably, most definitely a date. The word sent a fear through your body like no other. Despite being single for three years, you had been on a few first dates in that time, and obviously they had never led to anything. In fact, it had been over a year since your last and that's when you had sworn off dating altogether.

Min Yoongi. That was the last guy you'd said yes too. A fifth grade teacher at Primrose Hill up until last September. (That had nothing to do with you, by the way, he'd just moved cities last summer to pursue a different career. The date hadn't been that bad...) He was easy on the eye and funny, although maybe a little too sarcastic at times, so much so, you hadn't been able to pick up on the signals until he was cornering you in the staff room and asking you to watch a movie with him that coming weekend. Being both teachers, you'd assumed you'd hit it off straight away, but that wasn't the case. It turned out that Yoongi pretty much hated his job, only there for the extended vacations. That was perfectly fine, you guessed, but you realised that a man like that wasn't for you. How could you both love and hate the same job? It just wasn't feasible.

You didn't miss dating, mostly because you hadn't been that into the idea anyway. But now? Now that the idea had presented itself again? After the most peculiar string of events, you had suddenly found yourself being asked out for dinner by the man who had hit your car, and you were… excited. For the first time in forever, you were excited for a date.

You hadn’t felt like this since –

Since Donghae.

Even thinking his name turned your heart heavy. Not as bad as the original heartbreak three years ago, but the memory was still enough to dampen your mood, if even for a moment. You'd met one another during your last year of college and had stayed together for the next five years. He'd been your forever man, the one you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with – he had proposed to you on your 26th birthday after all... Only, being his fiancé hadn't lasted. Since months later he confessed to cheating on you – repeatedly with a girl that worked in the Starbucks near his work building. It had been the pressure of settling down, that's what he'd told you. He was still young, had been very young when you'd gotten together in college and he wanted to experience life properly. His friends were out clubbing every weekend while he stayed inside playing boardgames with you and your friends. Your friends, as if they weren't his too, as if you all hadn't been joined at the hip in college...

Your life had pretty much crumbled after that. Everything you'd known had been ripped from under your feet and you had no idea what to do or where to go. One day you had been someone's wife-to-be and the next you were a lonely, broken human. You moved in with Soojung, had to take a month off work because you couldn't function properly, and slowly had to learn how to live your life without the love of your life.

It took a while, but gradually you got there. You and Soojung found a new, bigger place to live – where you still lived now – and you found ways to stop thinking about him, went on weekend vacations and started new hobbies. It took just over a year to feel yourself again but dating never seemed right.

Soojung slowly encouraged you to try it out, but the handful that happened in that twelve month period just felt forced – even the one with Yoongi, which had pretty much happened organically (as in, Soojung hadn't set it up…), felt like it was missing something. In a way you knew you were comparing everyone to Donghae, you couldn't help it. You couldn't imagine potentially falling in love with someone else again. He was all you'd known for so long, and once upon a time your relationship had been amazing. He'd been amazing. Getting out of that mindset had been difficult, but there had been an even more difficult one... One you were still struggling with now. The issue of opening up your heart again.

Truthfully, that's why you’d stayed single for so long. Why you'd given up on dating and didn't want to know. The thought of you meeting and falling for someone only to inevitably get hurt again terrified you. You wouldn't say you had trust issues, you knew not every man was like Donghae, but just imagining your world crumbling like it had three years ago was enough to just give up.

It wasn't like you were unhappy though. You’d meant all that stuff about liking where your life was heading. You had your friends and family and a job you loved. Your life was fulfilling, there was nothing missing. But maybe that’s what you’d needed to realise… Life worked in mysterious ways. Once you were happy and content maybe it was finally time to open up your heart again.

The truth was, you were very, very attracted to Seokjin. You felt something, even when you wanted to poke his eyeballs out for being so annoying. Actually, thinking about it, maybe that’s why you’d been so scrappy, your mind was fighting with your heart… Despite the obvious differences between you both, you oddly weren’t fazed by that right now. Seokjin didn’t seem unrelatable in that sense. Yes, your lives were crazy different, but there was something between you. You were sure of it. The way he’d opened up to you on that bench, the way he’d smiled at you, and even the way he’d teased you. It had to mean something.

Sometimes it was okay to trust your heart. That warm feeling weaving its way through your chest… Sometimes it was okay to be a little exposed. Not everyone was out to get you.

What was the worst that could happen? The dinner never led to anything else? That would be okay, you’d get over it. But what if it did lead to something more…?

You deserved to find out, right?

Saturday morning you received a text from Seokjin. You were eating breakfast at the small table you had set up in the kitchen alongside Soojung. She had only just woken up and was still a little bleary eyed but still managed to instantly perk up at the mention of Seokjin. She demanded to see his message straight away.

Unknown (9:32am) Hi Y/N, It’s Kim Seokjin, Arin’s father. Just wondering if you still want to have dinner tonight? If so, please let me know and I will send through the restaurant details. We can decide on a time for me to pick you up. Regards, Seokjin

She squealed. “This guy writes his texts like they’re emails. You just know he’s going to be a good lay.”

“Soojung,” you groaned. She would not shut up about Dilf dick this and Dilf dick that. “What does that even mean?”

“He’s a CEO,” she said simply, eyes wide as if that explained everything. “Of one of this country’s biggest companies. That’s like some type of erotic novel shit.”

You groaned loudly, dropping your head into your hands, but she still continued – sadly.

“But none of that creepy Fifty Shades of Grey stuff. This guy is a real gentleman. Like he puts your pleasure above all else. I think he’d be really good at going down on a woman.”

By this point, you’d stopped feeling flustered by her insane claims. They were just normal now. She was unbelievable. Why was she even thinking of these things and where did she come up with them? You didn’t want to think of Seokjin like that because you really wanted to keep your sanity for tonight. Plus, no way were you ready for something like that yet. You hoped Seokjin wasn’t anticipating something more. You were sure he wasn’t, you hadn’t gotten those vibes. Soojung was just being dumb.

You rolled your eyes. “You don’t half talk some shit.”

You wanted her to point out how cute his text was instead. Like how he’d said he was Arin’s father, you know, just in case you’d forgotten who he was in two days, but no, she was too caught up on potential erotic novel titles.

You slipped to the side with a start when Soojung nudged your shoulder, getting all up into your personal space as she teased you. “I’m right though, huh?”

You pushed her back. “This is just a dinner. Not the start of an erotic novel.”

She shrugged. “I’d read it.”

“What would you read?”

Taehyung’s voice appeared from the doorway and you both looked up to see him leaning against it, eyes still pretty much glued shut, his thick hair pulled all ways.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” Soojung greeted, standing up to make her way towards him. You watched her wrap her arms around his middle, nuzzling into him. She’d only left him in bed not half an hour ago. Seeing your best friend in love was odd but nice. You weren’t used to sappy Soojung, but you had to admit it suited her well. They were cute together.

Taehyung wrapped one arm around his girlfriend and lifted the other to his face, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “What are you guys yelling about down here? You woke me up.”

“Y/N’s date tonight,”

“Oh, Mr. Dilf?” He sniggered, perking up.

Soojung screeched and joined in. “CEO Dilf dick.”

“You told him?!” You whined, standing to dump your bowl in the sink.

“Of course.” Taehyung smiled smugly. “She tells me everything. Don’t you, babe?”

“Yep.” She grinned. You watched in minor amusement as Taehyung leant down to peck her mouth, Soojung gagging loudly. “Your breath stinks.”

You replied to Seokjin promptly – well as soon as Soojung and Taehyung had vacated the kitchen – and not long after that he messaged back with the restaurant details, asking if it was okay to pick you up at 7pm. You sent him your address, almost immediately freaking out. You knew his wealth hadn't fazed you that bad, seeing as he was so easy to talk to, but your place and his place were on different planes of existence. You knew it wouldn't bother him, he wasn't like that, you knew that now, but you were still a little self-conscious. It was probably the nerves regarding today. The reality was setting it. The slight doubt…

Soojung wasn't helping.

“There’s steaks on the menu that are more than our rent a week," she awed, looking down at her phone.

Why had you given her the name of the restaurant again? You would never learn your lesson. She had already googled his name when you’d told her he was the CEO of LG and she had been this close to searching his net worth before you’d stopped her. You didn’t want to know, not only was it incredibly invasive, it made you feel slightly faint. Seeing his image pop up online was enough for you . A professional headshot, he smiled kindly into the camera lens. It was crazy to think that it was the man you’d be going to dinner with.

Soojung would be good for one thing though – helping you decide on an outfit for tonight. Taehyung had gone home a couple of hours ago, needed at the bar he owned so she had nothing else better to do. Not that she was listening to you though…

She shrugged. “What did I expect? This dude is a billionaire."

“He’s not."

Billionaire seemed a lot more intimidating than a millionaire, but in reality what was the difference? He was unbelievably rich and you were just... you. You shook your head, attempting to claw yourself out of the anxiety hole you'd found yourself in. His job didn't matter. The restaurant he'd chosen didn't matter. You were going for dinner with him to enjoy his company and get to know him better. The finer details were irrelevant.

“Come on! If not he must be a multi-multimillionaire." She rationalised. "His dad is the billionaire."

You groaned. "Will you stop making me nervous and help me pick something to wear?"

You decided on the midi dress you'd actually worn to Eunbi's wedding last summer. It was the only fancy thing you had – or at least fancy enough to dine at a restaurant that sold insane dollar steaks. But wait, the restaurant wasn't supposed to matter, remember?

You still wanted to look nice though. The dress was modest in itself but maybe the colour was a bit eye-catching – a deep red. Soojung said it was perfect and you'd knock his Dilf socks off. By now you were getting sick of the word. You told her as much.

"What if I don't want to sleep with him?"

"As if." She scoffed. "Your dry spell has gone on far too long. You deserve this." She caught the look of apprehension on your face. "When you're ready of course."

"Don't make me –”

"Nervous, I know" she finished for you, sighing loudly. "There's no need to be. Mr. Dilf is whipped for you, I just know it."

How did she know? She hadn't even met him, but you appreciated the sentiment. You did not appreciate it when she was being a clever bitch though.

"I'm just trying to work this out." She said, watching you apply your mascara in the bathroom mirror. It was much later in the day now, about forty minutes before Seokjin was due to pick you up. You were dressed, hair up, makeup nearly done, and sick to your stomach with anticipation. You hummed, letting her know you'd heard her and to continue.

"You were mad when Dilf spent money on your car but you're okay with him spending mad money on you at this restaurant?"

"Soojung," you warned, staring at her reflection in the glass.

She held her hands up in apology. "Sorry, sorry. I'm just curious. Is it okay when it's food?"

You sighed. You knew it didn't really make sense, you guessed, but well, you'd said yes to the dinner. You hadn't said yes to the car being repaired. That was the difference.

"I'm not going to order the most expensive thing on the menu."

"Well, don't just order a side salad, he'll think you're weird..."

You simply stared at her. Her input was so appreciated.

“He’s here, oh my god, he’s here!” Soojung screamed, spying through the voile curtains in the living room. "Ten minutes early. I love that."

“Soojung, move away, now." You told her sternly.

“The fucking car–” She cut herself with a muffled sound. As if she was trying to stifle her own screams. You guessed he'd gotten out of said car. “What the fuck, what the fuck, he’s SO hot. I’m going to pass out."

“Soojung!" Dropping your phone into your purse you slipped on your heels, nearly tripping over in the process. You gripped onto the back of the couch just in time. "I swear to god if he sees you."

She spun around, pointing an accusing finger at you. “You never said he was that hot."

You shrugged. "You never asked."

"I asked every goddamn second of the day. You lucky bitch." She walked towards you, fixing a piece of your hair that had fallen into your eyes. “How come you get hot billionaire Dilf and I get the man-child whose special talent is making cocktails."

"Shut up," you scoffed. She loved Taehyung and his cocktail making skills. That's how they'd met after all. She drunk at the bar three days a week for a month straight until he asked her out.

The doorbell rung and you froze, remembering how nervous you were. Soojung's antics had distracted you for a while but now reality was setting in. As you turned to leave she tapped your ass. “Get that Dilf dick, girl!”

"Soojung, I swear to god –”

"I won't wait up."

Ha. As if. She'd be glued to that window until Seokjin dropped you off back home. You knew her all too well, you'd been best friends for over ten years.

In the entryway now, you didn't have time for breathing exercises. Although, you wished you'd had once you opened the door to see Seokjin stood there looking devastating handsome.

“Hi," he smiled, eyes lighting up when he saw you.

“Hey," you managed to squeeze out, cemented to the ground.

He was dressed in a double breasted navy two piece that must have been tailored to fit his body down to the millimetre, a crisp white dress shirt on underneath. His hair looked shorter, falling just above is eyebrows and parted slightly in the middle. He looked good enough to eat. Or good enough to make you pass out. Either one.

“You look beautiful," he awed, rendering you pretty speechless.

This was a date. It really was a date.

"Thank you," you managed to reply, needing to return the compliment. But what could you possibly say?! “You look…really good."

Oh god. How embarrassing.

Especially when Seokjin burst out laughing, that familiar squeak to it that you'd heard at the parent-teacher meeting. "I'll take it. Thanks." He tilted his head. "Are you ready to go? I'm a bit early, I know. Sorry about that."

You nodded, clutching your purse tight to your side. "I, uh... I would invite you in to kill time but my best friend’s embarrassing." You raised your voice a little so she'd hear you, but on her best behaviour she stayed deathly silent. Well done, Soojung.

Seokjin raised an eyebrow, a little confused, but you figured you'd fill him in inside the car. "It's fine," he shook his head.

Seeing you stepping forward he moved to the side, outstretching his arm to invite you to lead the way. You did, making sure not to look back towards the living room window, because you knew for a fact you'd see Soojung pressed up against it.

“This is all new for me.” Seokjin admitted, sat opposite you as you waited for your dessert. “I haven’t been on a date for years.”

To say the night had gone well would be an understatement. At first you’d been too nervous to even breathe, especially with Seokjin looking like that just a few centimetres away from you as he drove. It didn’t help that he seemed to be some type of regular at the restaurant, getting greeted as if he was an old friend of the manager and led to his ‘usual’ table; a quiet spot away from the hustle and bustle. It turned out he co-owned the place with his brother, looking mildly embarrassed as he told you. It was cute, but he had nothing to be self-conscious over, this was his life, normal to him. I hope you don’t see it as a cop-out, he confessed, causing some confusion your end. Why would you see it that way? This restaurant was beautiful, certainly popular, and you couldn’t wait to try the food. You told him as much and he laughed about feeling nervous now.

You tried lobster for the first time ever – his recommendation. It was kind of messy, but he ordered the same so you were both in it together. You laughed, you joked, you got to know one another more. Conversation came easy, both relaxed in one another’s company, and after the main you both decided to share a dessert, too stuffed for anything more.

“Snap,” you grinned, silently happy that was the case, although rather amazed. Seokjin was, well… him, who wouldn’t want to snap him up? However then again, he was a busy, divorced father. Dating probably wasn’t high up on his list. You were so distracted by his confession, you didn’t even comprehend he’d used the word ‘date.’

“Really?” Seokjin’s eyes bulged slightly. Why was he so surprised?

You shrugged casually. “It’s been well over a year since my last date.”

Seokjin’s mouth curved, amused. “Try over ten.”

“I wasn’t aware this was a competition,” you laughed, but yes, he indeed had you beat.

He laughed along, the arrival of your lemon cheesecake interrupting you both for a moment. It was a few bites later when the conversation got back on track again, Seokjin’s tone careful as he looked across at you, both of you reaching for another bit of the cheesecake with your dessert forks. “You don’t mind me calling this a date, do you? This isn’t the part where you tell me you’ve been in a relationship for five years and you just thought this was an innocent thank you dinner?”

You giggled softy, shaking your head. “No. I don’t mind you calling it a date.” You brought the fork up to your mouth, taking your time to chew before you continued. “Soojung was adamant it was but I… didn’t want get my hopes up?” You wanted to be honest. This night was about opening yourself up to the uncertain.

“Soojung, your best friend? The one you live with?” He asked.

You nodded. You’d already told him all about your best friend, about how you lived with each other. Seokjin hadn’t bat an eyelid, which was nice. You weren’t embarrassed or anything, but the differences in your living arrangements were stark. He thought it sounded fun. He still remembered living with his best friend Namjoon back in college and how entertaining that had been. He’d definitely be up for it again if they weren’t both dads now – divorced at that, but hey ho, that was life.

“Well, she was correct.” Seokjin continued. “I thought I made it clear but I guess I was too cryptic.”

“So, which one is it?” You asked, lifting an eyebrow in interest. “Not an innocent thank you dinner or not an innocent dinner?”

You were feeling brave, however your heart still thudded inside your chest, adrenaline whooshing through your veins. There was something about Seokjin that made you act so out of character…

Seokjin failed to conceal the visible surprise across his features and you watched him swallow before he composed himself, a smirk appearing on his lips immediately. “If I didn’t know any better I would say you were flirting with me right now.”

You shrugged. “I’m just checking if your intentions are innocent or not?” You took another bite of the cheesecake.

His smirk grew, and you watched him drop his fork onto the plate to lean back in his chair. “I would say they are, however, I did have plans to kiss you on the cheek tonight, so maybe, busted?” He chuckled then, at himself – he liked doing that you’d noticed. It was kind of cute.

The butterflies were back. Now there was no need to ignore or try to explain them. You took them as what they were – a good sign. Humming aloud, you tilted your head to the side and pretended to contemplate. “I think I can let you do that.”

Seokjin laughed. “You can? Okay, that sounds good.”

You reached for your glass of wine, needing a sip just to calm the flurry inside of you. Seokjin tucked his chair closer, still laughing but quietly now, more like a chuckle. “Honestly, I was pretty much shitting my pants today.”

You snorted into your glass, taken by surprise at his choice of words. “Sorry,” you apologised, feeling a little bit embarrassed by the sound that had just left your nose. He didn’t same fazed. “I was nervous too.”

That seemed to settle him. He smiled fondly, fingers tracing the brim of his glass. “I guess we were being silly.” His lips parted to say something else but he hesitated. You watched him take a quiet exhale, then he continued. “My therapist has been begging me to try dating again for months but the thought has always been pretty terrifying.” He gave a small shrug, his warm eyes locking with yours. “Until I met you.”

You could feel your heart rate speeding up, unable to stop the smile that spread across your face. He was pleased, grinning back, posture visibly relaxing. “She said I should face up to my fears and just ask you out.”

There were a lot of thoughts whirring through your mind right now. The fact he felt comfortable enough to disclose with you that he had a therapist, and the fact that he’d even mentioned you to her, that she had encouraged him to ask you out. The fact he’d liked you enough to want to take the plunge at all. After two years of being alone, you were the woman who had made him want to try again… It felt comparable to your own thoughts, to your feelings… and that’s why you felt so relaxed tonight. It just felt right.

“I like you, Y/N.” He confessed. “I know we don’t know one another very well, but I hope that this is just the beginning.”

Despite his words sending your butterflies crazy, you kept your cool, trying to stunt your smile. “You’re not so bad yourself, I guess.”

He chuckled. You let yourself smile at the sound. “Not so bad. I’ll take it.” He picked up his fork again, taking a bite of the cheesecake you’d both forgotten about. His voice was careful, genuine to match his expression, when he carried on. “Despite the circumstances of how we met and what followed, I don’t know, I haven’t felt a spark like that in forever.” He reached for a sip of his wine, laughing. “What do you think? You can call me crazy if you want.”

“I think you’re right.” There was no doubt about it now. You’d been adamant in the beginning that was nothing there – no spark, no flirting, insisting Soojung was wrong, but now you couldn’t deny the obvious attraction. You’d immediately bounced off one another that evening during the parent-teacher meeting, despite your annoyance the day before.

You grinned. “You frustrated me to no end but I felt something too.”

He tilted his head to the left, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Frustrated you? How so?”

“You know how,” you laughed. “I may or may not have called you an exasperating bastard in my head.”

He couldn’t contain himself then, taken back and genuinely amused. “Oh god,” he practically wheezed. “I like that one.”

You laughed along, unable not to when the sound he made brought you such joy. You reached for another forkful of cheesecake, the dessert nearly coming to an end. Just like the date, you thought. You didn’t want it to end, you were enjoying yourself too much.

“What about now?”

You looked up at Seokjin, eyes widening in question. What did he mean? He was staggeringly composed now, although his eyes shone with mischief as he grinned and explained. “Do I frustrate you now?”

You tried to stunt your own smile, shrugging your shoulders. “Not tonight.”

“At the fate?”

“Nope.”

He nodded his head, seemingly happy with your answers. “I guess things are looking up then.” He picked up his glass again, about to take a sip before he paused and added, “Although, I must admit, I liked frustrating you. You look so cute when your mad.”

You felt heat immediately burn its way to your cheeks, hoping the lighting in this restaurant was dim enough not to make it obvious. He took a swig of his wine. “Watch it, Mr. Kim.” As he chuckled it muffled inside the glass.

You went for the last piece of cheesecake, figuring you were owed that now. You looked across at him as you chewed, knowing that if you really wanted this to happen again you needed to let him know. Face up to your fears of opening up, telling people how you really felt. “I’d like to get to know you better, Seokjin.”

“Really?” He sounded hopeful, fingers playing with the rim of his wine glass again.

“Mmhm.” You nodded. “You seem like a lovely man if we ignore the car stealing...”

“Hey,” he whined, “you apologised for that already, you can’t bring it up again.” You held your hands up in silent defence, chuckling silently, watching him lean closer. “But please, go back to what you were saying about me being a lovely man. Stroke my ego, it’s been a long week.”

Had it? You were curious, concerned really. You thought to ask him if he wanted to talk about it, but you guessed the last thing he’d like to do was discuss work on a date. Instead, you decided to tell him about what attracted you most to him. The thing that had inevitably made you change your mind and realise that maybe, quite possibly, you’d misjudged him.

“Arin really adores you and I can see how much you dote on her. Any man cherished by his child is a good one in my eyes.”

“Oh.” He simply replied, possibly at a loss of words. He looked touched – happy, but ultimately unsure of what to reply, so he bypassed it in a way, raising an eyebrow. “So is there some kind of checklist?”

“What do you mean?”

He gave a slight shrug. “Like, ‘kids like him – check.’ ‘He knows how to clean dishes – check.’ – I can by the way. I’m really good with a pair of washing up gloves and some dish soap.”

You burst out laughing, not quite believing your ears. “Yeah, okay.” You admitted. “There’s a list.” Didn’t every woman have one?

“Let’s see how I fare then.” Seokjin said, sounding sure of himself as he leant back in his seat, hands behind his head – the image of casual. Maybe you were into this cocky Seokjin… It was sort of hot.

“Okay so…” You began, leaning forward. “Family man – check.” You’d already approved that one. “Loves animals?”

He scoffed. “Easy. Animals are so much better than humans.”

Okay, more points his way… “Uhh.” You thought aloud, racking your brains. “Does he make me laugh?”

Seokjin mulled it over. “That sounds like a decision you have to make, but I think it’s a yes? I mean, you’ve been laughing all night. Unless you were just being nice.”

“No, you are funny,” you confirmed, although you were unable to miss an opportunity to mess around with him. “You have that, what should I call it,” you pretended to think, “that old man type sense of humour.”

“Hey. I’m not that old,” he huffed.

You chuckled quietly. True, he wasn’t old, but you were still surprised when you’d found out he was turning 38 this coming December. Some people were blessed with ageing gracefully. Of course he was one of them. The man looked amazing for someone two years away from forty.

“What about you?” You wondered. “Do you have a checklist?”

He sat upright again, setting his elbow on the table to drop his chin in his palm, giving you his full attention. “Yes, and you check them all.”

“I do?” You laughed in disbelief. Either he was easy to please or he wanted brownie points.

He shrugged, as if to say of course. “You’re funny, caring, can be kind of scary at times – which I’m sort of into, to be honest.”

“I’m not scary,” you protested, pouting slightly. However, what? He was into it? That made you feel funny…

He smirked. “I beg to differ.”

You rolled your eyes. “What else do I check off?”

He didn’t need time to think. “You’re insanely beautiful.” Your dumbfounded expression made him second guess himself. He pulled a face. “Yikes. Too cheesy?”

You grinned, getting a hold of yourself. “Maybe, but then again, maybe I like that.” How could you not like being called beautiful? How could you not like receiving a compliment? Especially from him.

He smiled, gazing into your eyes as he leant forward. You felt immediate warmth when his hand cupped yours across the table. This was the first time he’d touched you, right? Your mind was a blur right now, unable to recall two hours ago, let alone two weeks ago. When he spoke, you only felt warmer, the soft timbre of his voice fluttering through your whole body. “I’m really attracted to you, Y/N.”

And what could you say to that? You swallowed, wetting your throat, realising it had become dry. He was waiting for a reply, amused by something – your blank looking face most probably. He had the ability to render you speechless, and he knew it. He liked it.

Well, no, not on your watch. You’d get the last word. You’d win.

Composing yourself, you slipped your hand from under his, tapping it lightly, as if you were consoling him. “I’ve said it once already, but you’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Kim.”

Taken aback, he chuckled quietly in bemusement, shaking his head. “You’re going to give me wrinkles.”

A man of his word, he did kiss you on the cheek after the date was over. He waited until he had driven you home and opened the door for you to step out of the car – ever the gentleman, you’d teased. You stood by the little gate that lead a pathway to your front door, and that’s where he’d leant down to place his lips ever so lightly against the top of your left cheek. You smiled shyly up at him, unable to play it cool this time.

He looked a little rosy in the face too, unsure as he smiled. “I had a lovely time tonight.”

“Me too,” you agreed. “Can I take you out next time?” You surprised yourself by the offer, that kiss must have shot some confidence into you.

He looked surprised too, but into it, tilting his head in curiosity as he looked down at you. “Where do you suggest?”

“My place?” Okay, so it wasn’t ‘taking him out’ but you liked the idea best. Soojung could stay over Tae’s. She owed you one. “I can cook for you,” you offered, a hand unconsciously reaching for the collar of his jacket, straightening it for him. “To you know, return the favour of you paying for dinner to say sorry for paying for my car to get fixed.”

His hand clasped around yours, dropping it between your bodies to hold it as he chuckled.

“This is getting a little confusing now.” He swung your hand gently and you curled your little finger around his loosely. You could get used to this physical contact. It felt ordinary, like you’d been doing it forever. “Can’t we just call it dating and have done?”

You rolled your shoulders with a sigh, sounding casual and unbothered. “I guess, if it’s easier.”

Seokjin’s laugh got lower, his face closer. His eyes kept looking between your eyes and lips, and you realised your heart was beginning to beat slower, or was it faster? You couldn’t tell anymore, but you could hear it pounding lightly inside your ears. You were in the middle of playing the same game – eyes then lips, eyes then lips – the seconds feeling more like minutes as he leant in closer and closer, but then –

You spotted Soojung in the window as you happened to glance behind Seokjin’s shoulder. She had now totally bypassed the voile curtain, thinking she was Miss. Inconspicuous with the lights off. The street lighting was as bright as anything though, and all you could see was her face glowing like a ghost as she ruined the moment entirely. You were not having your first kiss with Seokjin in front of her prying eyes.

Seokjin realised your attention was elsewhere now, awkwardly pulling back to scratch his neck with his free hand. You clutched at the hand that was holding yours, not wanting him to think you’d blown him off. He didn’t say anything though, just continued your conversation with a bemused smile. “Um, so what are you going to cook?”

“What do you like?” You asked, only half your attention on him. Maybe you could silently signal to Soojung, tell her to get the hell out of the window before Seokjin noticed.

“I’m easy,” you heard him reply. “What’s your speciality?”

“Uh…” Think Y/N, think. Distracted you said the first thing that popped into your head, still trying to force Soojung away with just your eyeballs. “Lasagne.”

“Lasagne?” He sounded interested.

You finally met his eyes for more than five seconds, feeling a little panicky. “Yeah, my World Famous Italian lasagne.”

Oh no.

Seokjin laughed, dropping your hand to cup your cheek instead. Earlier, if this had happened you would have spontaneously combusted but now you had a case of the Nosey Friend and you couldn’t concentrate to save your life. “Okay, now you’re just talking big.”

You couldn’t help it, your eyes attempting to dart past his shoulder again. He noticed – he’d probably noticed this entire time, an eyebrow of his raising. “What is going on over my shoulder?”

You tried to stop him, clinging to his elbow, but he turned around anyway, eyes falling on Soojung immediately. You saw her instantly panic and jump back, dropping the curtain in front of the window again. “That’s just Soojung,” you sighed. “Ignore her, she’s an idiot.”

Seokjin was deeply amused, laughing as he turned back to you. “So, is next Saturday okay?” You pressed.

He grinned. “Saturday sounds perfect to me.”

As you said your goodbyes, Seokjin turned to the window and gave a small wave, chortling to himself. You couldn’t see Soojung anymore but you just knew she was still spying. But relieved Seokjin didn’t seem fazed, you made your way inside, giving Seokjin a wave by the door as he pulled off, feeling happy, yet a little sad the night was over already. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d enjoyed yourself like that.

It was only when you were inside did you remember what you’d just done, too preoccupied to think properly beforehand. Oh God, the lasagne. Saturday night was going to be a disaster.

Soojung came running into the entry way, interrupting your freak out. “He saw me! He saw me!” Her voice was shrill, and you couldn’t tell if it was because she was embarrassed or excited.

“That’s what happens when you spy, idiot,” you swiped, kicking off your heels. The instant relief brought you no comfort. “Soo, I’ve done something stupid.” You admitted.

She instantly looked worried. “What? What have you done?”

You sighed, already feeling like a fool. “Okay so, I invited him over next weekend and said I’d cook for him.”

“Girl is horny for that D–”

“Shut up, that’s not the problem,” you stopped her. She looked puzzled. “You were distracting me!” It was all her fault. You weren’t taking the blame. “He asked me what I was gonna cook and I told him I make a World Famous Italian lasagne!”

Your best friend was silent for an extended second, making sense of your words before she burst out laughing. Highly dramatic, practically doubled over, splitting her sides. Even more dramatic than you for freaking out over a damn lasagne.

“You have never made lasagne in your entire life!” She exclaimed. “What were you thinking?”

“It was your fault!” It was also her fault you didn’t get to kiss Seokjin properly too. But you weren’t going to bring that up now, unable to bear the constant teasing that would ensue.

“My fault?!” She laughed. You just rolled your eyes. She did not appreciate that at all. “Whatever. I can’t wait to see your “World Famous Italian lasagne.” Make sure to save me some, won’t you?”

“Right,” you huffed. “For that, I’m not telling you how the date went.”

She soon changed her tune, needing all the details just to be able to sleep tonight…

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#jin fanfic #bts fanfic #seokjin fanfic #floralseokjin:writings #fic:mls

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hypnomicimagines · 4 years ago

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Alone Time [Werewolf!Yamada Ichiro]

(You guys can also have this as a treat... a nice 2am treat. afab reader but no pronouns used)

Ichiro’s tail swished nervously behind him as he fumbled around with the dishes, his mind on anything but doing the rest of his household chores. Part of it was caused by both Jiro and Saburo being away, he had made Saburo promise to call him once his class reached their destination, but the other part of it was because he had been bold enough to ask you to stay over. He had even made it known his brothers wouldn’t be present which you had giggled about but said nothing more on the topic, agreeing that it would be nice to have a night in together.

“Hi!” You’re happy to be greeted by the excited werewolf who quickly lifted you up into his arms, squeezing tightly as it had been quite some time since you’d seen each other. His hand lingered on your lower back for longer than normal, as though he didn’t want to pull away at all if he could help it, but the sensible side of him won out as he pointed to the kitchen.

“I’m cooking but you can relax if you want.” You noted that the living room was cleaner than it normally was, no soccer balls around though there was a vacuum positioned in the corner filled to the brim with wolf fur. Did their tails shed that much? Poor Ichiro, it must be an endless cycle having three wolves living under one roof.

“I’ll sit with you in the kitchen if you don’t mind. I like watching you be all domestic, it’s cute. Should we get a hairnet for your tail?”

“I’ve never had any issues with-” Ichiro noted the way you were smiling at him, “Oh, you’re just messing with me, huh? I’ll remember that.”

Dinner was served shortly after and you weren’t lying about liking domestic Ichiro, thinking it was quite sweet to see him making you a plate and putting it down in front of you before sitting across the table. He even took the dishes to clean them before you could offer to help, saying he had invited you over to take a break and that he didn’t expect you to lift a finger. Your insistence was a little stronger than his stubborn need to do it all so you ended up drying and putting the dishes away as he scrubbed, pleased when everything was said and done so you could both relax together.

You managed to make it through exactly one movie before you began to feel sleepy.

You stretched, yawned, and his response came quickly.

“Should we go lie down?” You knew his request didn’t have ulterior motives, at least not in the moment, because as soon as he realized what he said his mouth hung open like he didn’t believe he’d just said that. You gave him a knowing smirk but didn’t tease him out loud, knowing he was probably beating himself up over it now.

“Sure. Lead the way, casanova.”

Ichiro hopped up off the couch and nearly forgot his manners with how quickly he was trying to leave the situation, turning before you get up to offer his hand. You thank him and take his hand, noting it’s a little sweatier than it was when you were holding it before. His anxiety is palpable and your own nerves are starting to build, knowing there’s nothing technically stopping you from having your way with each other. You had thought about it, God knows you had thought about it, and though you can’t speak on Ichiro’s own naughty daydreams you were sure there was something running through his mind with how stiff he had been acting tonight.

“Let me borrow one of your shirts, won’t you?” His eyes widened at that and you heard a shocked noise that you weren’t quite sure came from Ichiro. He stared at you a moment longer with his flustered expression before he fully processed your request, heading over to the dresser and fumbling through until he found a long, comfortable shirt suitable for bedtime. You made sure to brush your hand over his as you took it from him, shooting him a coy smile and thanking him. You admit that you’re starting to feel eager yourself as you remove your clothing, slipping into the t-shirt—And only the t-shirt.

Ichiro’s distracted as you walk out of the bathroom, mid-changing as he hadn’t expected you to be so quick. You’re disappointed that he’s wearing pants but you’d never seen him shirtless before, eyes scanning his back and soaking in all the scars that were left there. There were big and small, healed to the best of their ability; werewolves had a supernatural healing element to them so the wounds that caused scars to grow were ones either gained in adolescence, when the healing factor was much slower, or the wounds were near fatal in nature thus taking longer to heal. Your footsteps are quiet but Ichiro’s ears twitch in your direction, whipping around to face you. His eyes are on your face for only a moment before dropping to your bare legs, noting that his shirt was a little long on you but still left plenty for him to admire.

“I didn’t mean to leave you shirtless! How will you keep warm now?” You grabbed the shirt out of his hand, tossing it in the direction of the dresser as he certainly wouldn’t need it tonight.

“But wolves don’t get cold- Oh…” Ichiro was so intelligent normally but it seemed his mind was elsewhere, all your come-ons causing him confusion until you gave him a look that said ‘think about that a bit more’. He leaned in to kiss your cheek, slowly leaving a trail of kisses anywhere he could reach, helped by you tilting your head to the side to give him more access to you.

You tried to muffle your groan as Ichiro’s sharp teeth grazed against your neck, him purposely repeating the action to see if it was just a fluke. When you give him the same type of response you feel him press closer to you, his tail beginning to sway again to show how he happy he was (though it was obvious he was trying to control it as well). You gently touched his chest after you pulled away from him, fingers grazing the scarred Chuuoku brand on his skin, something that made him look away. You’re worried that you’ve agitated him at first but he grabbed your wrist as you went to pull away, pressing your hand to his chest and looking into your eyes.

He was giving you permission.

Your finger traced over the brand on his chest again, feeling guilty that you were looking at it when there was the rest of his beautiful body to admire. It was hard not to think about the burning pain that had been inflicted on him, that each and every scar must hold a sad story behind how he’d received them. You knew he had been a bit of a punk when he was younger but that seemed to be the type of lives werewolves lived, especially the ones with no parents to guide or protect them. He hadn’t talked about his father much but there was a bitterness there, a betrayal that had wedged itself deeply into Ichiro’s heart and had been the reason behind him breaking up their pack to begin with.

It wasn’t time to worry about that now.

If anything, you wanted Ichiro to forget his worries, at least for now.

You crawled into the bed first, flashing him the fact that you weren’t wearing underwear as though he needed another reason to snuggle in beside you as soon as possible. You teasingly turn to face the wall but are pleased when Ichiro pulled you flush against him, his dick hot and hard on your ass. He’s trying not to rut his hips but it’s hard, just like him, and he’s restraining himself in fear of his strength accidentally hurting you. The plan had been to allow you to set the pace, to take control so that it’d be less likely an accident like that would happen, but it seemed useless now.

His attraction, his burning desire, it was too much for him to handle.

“I guess being tempting is just in your nature,” He whispered against your neck, hands running up your leg until they caught the end of his shirt; he lifted it up, slowly, slowly, until it was at your waist, leaving it there and going down to squeeze your hip. He’s started to move his hips in a steady rhythm that was turning him on more, thinking about how soft you felt against him. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“Oh, is that right? You’ve met a fairy, right?”

“They have nothing on you.”

“Ooh, I’d be careful with that.” You turned your head to look at him, eyes taking a second to make out his face in the darkened room. “The fae don’t take kindly to being outdone. You might have put us both in danger.”

“I’d do anything to keep you safe.” Not normal bedroom talk but you’d be lying if that didn’t make your chest tingle, or perhaps that was just because his hands were now sliding up your stomach, cupping your chest but making no other moves just yet.

“Oh, my hero…!” Your teasing gets you everywhere, his hand rearranging itself so his fingers could gently pinch your nipple. You moaned quietly to show him that you appreciated what he was doing, arching back against him to temporarily stop his hips from moving. He’s breathing a little heavier now, which is why his next request isn’t a surprise.

“Turn around.”

His lips crashed against yours the second you did so, his hand on the back of your head as his tongue forced its way past your lips. He’s still a little clumsy when it comes to navigating such a passionate kiss but you can tell he’s putting his all into it, allowing you to explore his mouth as well; you couldn’t stop yourself from running your tongue over his canines, squeaking as it feels like you sliced your tongue though there’s no coppery taste to accompany the slight pain. He pulled away quick, a panicked look on his face as he opened his mouth to apologize.

“Shh…” You pressed a finger to his lips, “You don’t have to say sorry, baby. There’s something I want to do…but be careful of those fangs, alright?”

The only sound in the room is the shuffling of blankets as you pushed him onto his back, moving the blankets out of your way and stripping yourself of his shirt. He gets only a glance of your chest but you can tell he’s licking his lips at the thought of sucking on them, thinking he could have his way with them later when you were done with your request. You carefully positioned yourself over his, lowering cautiously as you didn’t want to totally smother him (at least not yet). Ichiro’s impatience is finally shining through and he throws caution out, strong arms wrapping around your thighs and pulling you down on his face.

Werewolves had been stereotyped as being voracious eaters and Ichiro wasn’t proving them wrong, the way his tongue was working you over being more than enough proof that he was one. You’re trying to keep yourself quiet despite knowing you don’t have to but that’s not good enough for Ichiro, no, he has to hear your voice full volume or he doesn’t believe he’s doing a good enough job. He teased your clit with his tongue, sucking, licking, going back and forth between the two as you grinded down on his face. He felt a certain thrill at how rough you were being now that you were close to the edge, being far less careful than you had before as you rode his face, desperate to come yet not really wanting the moment to end.

He would be sure to request this later, seeing how irresistible you acted when he ate you out.

You nearly pulled away from him before you came but he felt the muscles in your legs beginning to move, holding you down before you could take this delicacy away from him. You cried out his name as you came on his face, whimpering at the delicate licks he continued to give your clit as you came down from your orgasm. He could probably spend the entire night down there if you allowed him but there was another part of him you were hungry for, something that couldn’t be put off any longer.

You spend a second teasing his cock, licking up and down the vein on the underside of it as it seemed to drive him craziest. There was another stereotype about werewolves that was proven correct but you couldn’t think about it for too long, straddling his waist this time and sitting down on his length (but not allowing it to enter you). You’re slick as you moved back and forth, the head of his dick hitting your clit every time you moved forward, and you took pleasure in seeing the internal debate on Ichiro’s face. What would he do? Would he sit there and take it like a good boy, or would he let out that inner carnivore and show you who’s boss?

You’re pleased it’s the latter, legs spreading as the positions are reversed and you’re now underneath him. He lets out a growl that makes you bite your lip, his eyes on your chest once more before drifting up to your face. He leaned down to kiss you as he lined himself up with your entrance, pressing himself inside of you and waiting an extra second before going deeper. He’s thick and burning hot but it feels too damn good for you to complain about it, your body growing used to the feeling of his thick cock inside you. You’re distracted by his mouth on your chest again, tongue expertly playing with your nipple; his one hand cupped the breast he was playing with while the other held onto your hip, helping him bring your hips to meet his as he thrusted.

The pace he set was rougher than you thought he was capable of yet it still felt good, you could feel his desperation for your touch leaking through. Your hand ran through his hair, tugging as you ordered him to slow it down as you would come to quick if he kept the pace up; he didn’t listen at first which meant finding another weak spot, your hand reaching down in the dark to squeeze his ass, rising up to touch the base of his tail. He let out a whimper at this but finally obeyed, showing he still had a little good boy left in him. You wanted to memorize the way it felt to have him inside you, to have him planting kisses all over your neck and chest, to hear his begging as he didn’t know how much longer he’d last going at this pace.

“Try not to break me in half,” You grinned at him but he didn’t process it, knowing he was given permission to pick the pace up once again.

You’re pressed into the bed as Ichiro fucked you hard and fast, desperate to snap that thread, to finally come after all the hard work he had done to make this a nice night. He deserved this, you think, he deserved to feel good and you were happy that you were the one to do it. If it wasn’t you he wouldn’t be satisfied, Ichiro knew that without the love he felt for you this would just be empty pleasure but his heart felt so full as his lips pressed against yours and he came with one last thrust.

“I love you…” He gasped out, face buried in your neck as he dropped some of his weight on top of you, just enough to create a pleasantly snug sensation. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“I love you too, Ichi, don’t get so worked up.” You ran your fingers through his hair, scratching his ears in appreciation and trying not to laugh at the feeling of his tail wagging. “I love you so much it’s unbearable.”

“You think you have it bad, I’ve been thinking about sending my brothers out on a fake job just so we could be alone…” Ichiro sighed as he rolled off of you, knowing that the clean-up would be next but not quite finding the energy to move yet. “That would be bad, right?”

“…I mean, if they’re gonna follow in your footsteps you could at least call it training. Then it won’t feel like you’re lying.”

“…You’re right, that’s a way better idea.”

“That’s what I’m here for!”

“…Thank you for coming over tonight,” Ichiro’s voice is back to being a whisper, “We should get cleaned up.”

“Carry me to the bathroom, won’t you? I can’t guarantee my legs work right now.”

Ichiro laughed.

“Anything for you.”

#Yamada Ichiro #Ichiro Yamada #Hypnosis Microphone #Hypnosis Mic #Hypnosis Microphone Imagines #Hypnosis Mic Imagines #Hypnosis Microphone x Reader #Hypnosis Mic x Reader #Yamada Ichiro x Reader #Smut #Scenario #Supernatural AU

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nerdythebard · 4 years ago

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#12: The Doctor [Doctor Who]

Brother, I disown you...

I don't know what my friend/chosen brother was thinking when he made this request... Actually, no, I know exactly what he was thinking! Well, no time to dawdle, let's do this Time Warp. Again.

Next Time: Before we return to the gods, I want to make a character very close to my heart. He is also a Doctor... only, word of warning, he's a little... Strange.

Well then... sigh, let's see the goals we need to meet to make the most brilliant alien in television playable in D&D:

Heroes Never Die: The signature ability of a Time Lord (and the most problematic), a way to cheat death and return to life. Yes, somehow we need to make a virtually immortal character in Dungeons & Dragons...

Bunny-Ears Lawyer: Even in his relatively serious regenerations, the Doctor is prone to flashes of randomness, acts of nonsense, mixing puns and physical comedy to often hide the incredibly fast and advanced brain processes.

Go-Go Gadget Galore: Do I even need to say anything? Besides his trusty TARDIS (which will not be included here, we're making the Doctor, not his equipment!), the Doctor also brandishes sonic devices of multiple varieties, psychic paper, the thing that goes DING, etc.

---

As you can imagine, finding the right race replacement for Time Lords wasn't easy. I'm definitely not using The-Movie-That-Does-Not-Exist solution, and making the Doctor... half-human, urgh. All we need to do is find a humanoid, almost-fossil race that can come back from death a limited amount of times.

The Doctor is a Human Revenant, a playtest race from Unearthed Arcana: Gothic Heroes. In-game, Revenant is an undead that came back to life to pursue a certain goal, whether it's vengeance, retribution, or to make amends. Putting some flavour into it, and turning it into a long-living, mysterious being who perhaps came from the Astral Plane to search for a way to save his home planet... why not? Regular Revenants get only a +1 to Constitution, but if we're using pre-existing race (such as Human), there's another set of rules. So, we get a +1 Constitution and +1 Intelligence, and we don't get to pick a skill or a feat. Not yet.

What's most important here is the Revenant's Relentless Nature feature. We are assigned a goal, a very specific one, that we must complete in order to achieve peace. Work with your DM on that one (the saving-your-home-world one from before sounds like a good start). Until we complete the goal:

If we are below Hit Points Maximum, at the start of our turn we regain 1 Hit Point;

We know the distance and direction to any creature involved in our goal (perhaps a fellow, once-friend Time Lord?);

When we die, we come back to life within 24 hours with 1 Hit Point. If our body is destroyed, we come back in a spot within 1 mile of our place of death (unfortunately, our equipment is destroyed);

BOOM! JUST FLAVOUR EACH DEATH AS A CHANGE OF FACE AND PERSONALITY, AND WE HAVE THE REGENERATION SYSTEM! HAH! YOU SEE THAT, BROTHER!?

Ekhm... back to work, then.

The Doctor is pretty far from home, so giving him the Far Traveller background seems like the right approach. We gain proficiencies in Insight and Perception skills, proficiencies with one musical instrument (perhaps a recorder?)/gaming set, we learn one language of our choice, and we get the All Eyes on You feature; our mannerisms and quirks definitely draw attention towards us and our group, but we can take advantage of that in order to fish for some information, secure an audience with the local nobleman, or... I dunno, snog Madame de Pompadour?

ABILITY SCORES

No surprise there, we start with Intelligence. We have a literal Big Galaxy Brain™ and we use it often, and only sometimes to show off. Follow that up with Dexterity, we're nimble and we're doing a lot of running, especially when being chased (plus, we've invented the Drunken Giraffe dance). Constitution is next, the Gallifreyan biology is significantly superior to that of regular Terrans.

Next up, Charisma. It usually works, sometimes it doesn't, but even then we're kinda adorkable. Wisdom is a little low, I think we all shall agree to that, the Doctor is a creature of whim. He gets lost in thought, has a hard time remembering to explain his logic to others. Finally, we're dumping Strength. Now, we're definitely physically stronger than humans, I just don't remember any particular feats of super-strength in the show.

Heck, you want even more Time Lord shenanigans? Ask your DM to implement the "every death/regeneration makes all ability scores randomly switch places" rule.

CLASS

Level 1 - Artificer: Once again, nobody is surprised we begin with the Smart & Techy One™ for the Doctor. Artificers were brought to 5e via Tasha's Cauldron of Everything. These magical tinkers have d8 Hit Dice, [8 + Constitution modifier] initial Hit Points, proficiencies with light armour, medium armour, heavy armour, shields, simple weapons, and optionally firearms (although that's definitely not the Doctor's style). We additionally get proficiency with thieves' tools, tinker's tools, and one set of artisan's tools we choose. We can't get the sonic screwdriver (although if you want one, hint to your DM about the existence of the All-Purpose Tool), we have all these tools to replace it with. Our saving throws are Constitution and Intelligence, and we get to pick two class skills: let's get History and Investigation.

Artificers start with Magical Tinkering, an ability to bestow harmless magical properties onto inanimate objects. We choose a Tiny object with no magic in it, and grant it one of the following properties indefinitely:

It sheds bright light for 5 feet and dim light for an additional 5;

Whenever tapped, the object plays a recorded message no longer than six seconds;

The object continuously emits a smell or a sound of our choice;

A static image (picture, lines of text, shapes, etc.) appear on the object's surface.

Artificers are also casters, so at the first level, we get Spellcasting. Our casting ability is, of course, Intelligence and the number of spells we can prepare is equal to [our Intelligence modifier + half of our Artificer level rounded down]. We also know how to cast rituals.

We start with two cantrips:

Magic Stone lets us imbue three pebbles with magic (or perhaps, in this case, kinetic energy?) for 1 minute. We can then use the pebbles ourselves, or give them to somebody else. On a successful hit, the target suffers [1d6 + our Intelligence modifier] bludgeoning damage and the spell ends on that particular pebble.

Prestidigitation is a cantrip of plenty varieties, which very well could be disguised as the Doctor's tinkering with his sonic screwdriver. It can be used to warm or chill food, clean or soil objects, or perhaps lighting and snuffing our small flames.

We start with two 1st-level spell slots, and we get three 1st-level spells:

Alarm sets up a secured perimeter, no larger than a 20-feet cube, for 8 hours. Whenever a create not-designated as safe while setting the spell, crosses its boundary, we get a signal informing us about the intrusion, which also wakes us up if we're sleeping. The signal can be set to inform only us, or everybody around.

Detect Magic informs us of any magical activity within 30 feet of us for 10 minutes (concentration). We sense magic lingering on objects, people, as well as locations, and we can determine the type of magic present (but not a particular spell, for example, we sense that a spell on the object is enchantment-type, but not that it's Power Word: Kill).

Identify is... pretty much the one function of the sonic screwdriver we've all seen. It lets us learn about an object we choose, including its magical properties (if any) and if it's affected by any spells. And it works on wood!

With a spell list like that, we can safely say

Level 2 - Artificer: We continue with the Tech Savvy Class, and we learn the Artificer's signature skill, Infuse Item. It lets us bestow magical properties onto mundane items. Similarly to Warlock's Invocations, Artificers have Infusions they can select and put into items. Starting from this level, we can infuse two items at once, and we get to pick four Infusions from the list. For the Doctor, let's pick:

Replicate Magic Item: Bag of Holding is probably the most useful infusion in the early game. The infusion does exactly what it says, and a Bag of Holding is always a good item to own (just watch out for the Bag Man!)

Enhanced Defence infusion puts some extra protection (+1 to AC) onto an armour or a shield.

Mind Sharpener is a helping hand for any spellcaster. The infusion put onto an armour, or woven into a robe, sends a jolt to re-focus the mind. When the wearer fails a Constitution saving throw to keep their concentration, one charge (out of four) of the infusion expends, to make them succeed instead. The charges are refilled at dawn.

Returning Weapon gives a +1 to attack and damage rolls of the weapon it's applied on and makes it return to the wielder's hand immediately after it's used to make a ranged attack. With the keyword "immediately", it gives your Rangers and other bow-users infinite ammunition with just one arrow.

We can also get one more 1st-level spell: Disguise Self changes our appearance for 1 hour, or until we choose to dismiss it as an action. The spell affects our body, clothing, and items we carry (including weapons). It is not a physical disguise, just an illusion woven around us; if we make ourselves thinner than we really are, and somebody was to touch the space where our regular body would be, they're going to feel the body, albeit invisible. For the Doctor, this seems like a combination of psychic paper and the Chameleon Circuit.

Level 3 - Artificer: At this level, we get the Right Tool for the Job feature. If we have thieves' tools or artisan's tools in hand, we can create any other set of artisan's tools.

We also get to pick our subclass, our Artificer Specialization. The Doctor is no alchemist, and we'll probably build Tony Stark at some time in the future, therefore we're picking Battle Smith. Those tinkers are masters of protections, being able to put up defensive mechanisms on the spot. Since the Doctor is a diplomat first, runner second, and combatant very close and reluctant third, focusing on support is a good option.

As a Battle Smith, we gain proficiencies with smith's tools, and we gain some more magic with Battle Smith Spells:

Heroism imbues the willing creature with bravery. Until the spell ends (1 minute, concentration), the target is immune to being frightened and gains Temporary Hit Points equal to our Intelligence modifier at the start of each of their turns (AKA every six seconds). When the spell ends, any Temporary Hit Points remaining are lost.

Shield creates an invisible barrier as a reaction to getting hit. It adds +5 to our AC until the start of our next turn.

Although a reluctant fighter, the Doctor as a Battle Smith also gets the Battle Ready feature. We gain proficiency with martial weapons, and when we attack with a magic weapon, we can use our Intelligence modifier instead of Strength or Dexterity for attack and damage rolls.

Finally, Battle Smiths get the Steel Defender. With our tinkering, we create our first companion, a steel defender; it is friendly to us and our companions and obeys our commands. With that, we got ourselves the one and only K9

Level 4 - Artificer: At this level, we get our first Ability Score Improvement! However, instead of upgrading our abilities this time, we'll grab a feat. The Telepathic feat from Tasha's Cauldron of Everything will represent the Doctor's limited psychic abilities: we increase one of our non-physical abilities by 1, let's go for Intelligence. We can speak telepathically to any creature within 60 feet, but the creature cannot reply (unless they're telepathic too, of course). Finally, we can touch a Detect Thoughts spell once per long rest, without a need to expend spell slots. Give your target a good headbutt, and learn their surface thoughts.

We also get our final spell: Catapult turns one inanimate object that isn't worn or carried (and weighs from 1 to 5 pounds) and turns it into a remote projectile. The object flies in a straight line for 90 feet before losing its momentum and falling. If it hits a creature, they have to make a Dexterity saving throw or take 3d8 bludgeoning damage. Distract your pursuers with a head of cabbage flying at their heads.

Level 5 - Rogue: We say goodbye to the Artificer, as we move onto Rogue for the rest of the build. Rogues use the same Hit Dice as Artificers, so nothing really changes when it comes to our Hit Points. We already have proficiency with light armour and thieves' tools, but we can pick one class skill – let's pick Acrobatics for better running and parkour chances when escaping aliens and responsibilities.

Rogues start with Expertise, which lets us double our proficiency bonus (NOT ability modifier) for two skills of our choice: let's boost Insight and History, to best utilize our centuries of living. We also learn how to speak Thieves' Cant, a special system of phrases and signals used by other Rogues to communicate without revealing their secrets. Finally, we have Sneak Attack: once per turn we can add 1d6 extra damage if a) we have an advantage on our roll, or b) the target is within 5 feet of another creature hostile towards it. The attack must be done by either a ranged weapon or one with the finesse property (like a dagger or a rapier).

Level 6 - Rogue: We get Cunning Action, which let us turn some Actions we can do in combat into Bonus Actions. That way, we still have an Action to spare if we decide to use Dash, Disengage, or Hide. Considering how much running the Doctor does, it's good to have something else to do just in case.

Level 7 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack changes to 2d6.

We also get to pick our second subclass, our Roguish Archetype. Now, initially, I considered going Swashbuckler, as it combines nimble footwork and gives us some charm abilities. However, since we're going with the build that emphasizes support and actual combat as a last resort, we'll go with Inquisitive.

We start this subclass with Ear for Deceit, whenever we roll Insight checks to determine if a creature is lying to us, we treat each roll of 7 or lower as 8.

We also get Eye for Detail. This is mostly to be used in combat (or if your DM runs dungeons in Initiative Mode), as it allows us to use Perception or Investigation checks as a bonus action, where it would normally take an action.

Finally, Inquisitive Rogues get Insightful Fighting. As a bonus action, we can make an Insight check, contested by the enemy's Deception check. If we succeed, for 1 minute we can use our Sneak Attack on the target even if we don't have an advantage or the target isn't near another of its enemies.

Level 8 - Rogue: Time for another ASI! Let's raise our Intelligence by 1 point, and use the spare one for Strength.

Level 9 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack changes to 3d6.

We also get Uncanny Dodge. Whenever we're being hit by an attack, we can use our reaction to halve the damage dealt.

Level 10 - Rogue: Halfway through the build, and we get another shot at Expertise. Once again, we get two skills to which we can double our proficiency bonus. Let's go with Perception and Investigation.

Level 11 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 4d6.

We also get one of the better abilities in the game, Evasion. If we're being targeted by an AoE attack that would deal half damage on a successful Dexterity saving throw, we take no damage if we make the save. What that means is, we can now take a Fireball face-on, shrug it off and loudly proclaim

Level 12 - Rogue: We get another ASI. Let's improve our Dexterity by two points this time.

Level 13 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 5d6.

We also get another subclass feature. Steady Eye gives us an advantage on Perception or Investigation checks if we move no more than half of our movement speed on our turn.

Level 14 - Rogue: Time for another ASI. Let's focus on getting some more Hit Points this time, and get +2 points to Constitution.

Level 15 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 6d6.

At this level, we get Reliable Talent, which upgrades our abilities to almost anime protagonist-level. Whenever we make a check for a skill we're proficient in, we treat all rolls of 9 and lower as 10.

Level 16 - Rogue: We're getting one more ASI. Let's raise our Dexterity again, putting 2 points in it.

Level 17 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 7d6.

We get our final subclass upgrade for this build, the Unerring Eye. We can now sense illusions and magical tricks within 30 feet, as well as shapechangers not in their original form. We can detect there is an effect trying to trick our senses around us, but we don't know its nature (i.e. if we meet a creature that activates our sense, we cannot distinguish whether it's a Disguise Self spell, or a natural shapeshifting ability, or a Druid's Wild Shape).

Level 18 - Rogue: We get another one of the best abilities in the game, Blindsense. We can now detect the presence of invisible and hidden creatures within 10 feet radius of us.

Level 19 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 8d6.

Our mind becomes more slippery with Slippery Mind. We gain proficiency in Wisdom saving throws.

Level 20 - Rogue: Our build's capstone is Rogue 16, which is also our final ASI. Let's finally cap Intelligence, as it should've been from the start when it comes to Time Lords.

---

There it is. My take on how to play as the Doctor in Dungeons & Dragons. I believe I've covered most if not all of the important features the Doctor has, but let's see:

Let's face it, we're not a frontline fighter... we're not even a backline fighter. We support. With 14 AC (without armour), 151 Hit Points on average, and a +4 to Initiative, our job is to manoeuvre, around the battlefield and let our friends take care of the enemy, while we do other things. With Reliable Talent and Expertise we are great at sweeping the room for clues and hints, even if in the heat of battle. Thanks to Unerring Eye and Blindsense, our senses aren't that easy to fool.

Unfortunately, our Strength is not great, and that means some weapons are just a hindrance (unless we pick a finesse weapon, which replaces Strength with Dexterity). While we have late-game proficiency in Wisdom saving throws, throughout the earlier stages those might prove a little problem.

---

And that is it for this build. I hope that you guys enjoyed it, and I'll see you for the next one!

- Nerdy out!

#d&d 5e #dnd #dungeons and dragons #character building #the doctor #doctor who #new who #classic who #time lord #artificer #battle smith #rogue #inquisitive #revenant

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zeldareyesblog · 4 years ago

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Bayonetta 2: The Controversial Witch Trials

**This was a responsive essay that I had written back in February 24, 2020 and revised on March 1st, 2020 for “Introduction to Composition” college class. Yes, I got an A+ on this.**

Bayonetta 2: The Controversial Witch Trials

In Giuseppe Nelva’s article, “Bayonetta 2’s “Over-Sexualization” Complaint: A Perfect Example of What’s Wrong with Modern Reviews”, I found the reviews of the game to be unfair because Bayonetta 2 was judged based on the amount of provocative imagery it contained rather than Platinum Games’ improvement from the first Bayonetta’s gameplay, mechanics, and creative execution. Nelva’s concerns were the same as mine because we believed that no videogame should be judged by the amount of controversial content it has. Instead, video games should be judged if the video game’s creators have exceeded beyond expectations to entertain the players.

Video game reviewers are needed to help companies like Platinum Games improve their work ethic, so that the next video game they make from that specific series would not feature the same issues again. However, we have big video game reviewers like Polygon, who has judged this video game based on its “blatant over-sexualization” rather than Bayonetta 2 game’s execution as quoted from article, “I won’t guess why the blatant over-sexualization is still there, often more intensely than before. But it causes an otherwise great game to require a much bigger mental compromise to enjoy.” Even though a 7.5 out 10 would not be considered an awful rating for Bayonetta 2, it deserved more than that and it also deserved a more objective review rather than a subjective review despite the obvious adult content mentioned by Polygon’s throughout most of the review. While Bayonetta 2 did include sexual themes and references throughout the franchise and characters as much as strong language and violence is concerned, should it be used to solely judge the merits of a videogame? What if the creators of Bayonetta 2 intentionally put the controversial content there to show how our virtuous boundaries could be broken under harsh circumstances, but can still become a strong, wise, and beautiful person against all odds?

To be honest though, I did understand that when my mother and I bought this video game from GameStop just last year during the holiday semester break as my New Year’s Eve present when I was 19 years old, she and I were both already aware of the content. Such as female characters being portrayed in a sexualized manner with extremely exaggerated proportions displayed in tight-fitting suits while in combat. There were also female characters being stripped of those suits for a brief amount of time to summon “infernal demons” as an aid in combat for huger enemies until their wicked weaves covered their private parts, and the innuendos spoken while the female characters interact with male characters in advance. However, the reason my mother approved of me playing that game, regardless of the adult content, was because she took her time to educate me about such content prior to succeeding my first semester in college. Because of our mother-daughter conversations, it was still pointless to judge the game based on its own provocative content and more on how it has executed itself as an entertainment medium as a result. Unlike most parents that I met who let my friends play M-rated video games before they completed their secondary education and reached the appropriate age, my mother never let me play any M-rated game until I completed my secondary education and when I reached the appropriate age of 17 years old or older according to the Entertainment Ratings Software Board (ESRB) guidelines because she believed that proper education and parental guidance would develop a real sense of maturity and high tolerance on all adult content that I would be exposed to in the future and she was right about that.

Furthermore, when I compared my now adult self to the friends that played a variety of M-rated videogames while they were underaged and still in middle school a very long time ago, I remembered that they were complete hyperactive chatterboxes to the point of aggravation, became more aggressive in their gaming habits and personalities, and even learned new curse words that I have never even heard before. When it came to sexually suggestive content in mature-rated video games, my old middle school friends did not seem to process that kind of content in a composed and civilized manner which resulted in them having some misogynistic and judgmental views of women, especially fictional video game women like Bayonetta who had self-confidence on and off the battlefield and remained fearless in her sexuality and beauty. Although, I did not blame M-rated video games alone because I knew that it was obviously the parents who enabled their underaged children to play those mature-rated video games since they were impatient and did not take the time to teach their kids about what kind of content they could be getting themselves into if they bought the game no matter how entertaining it was, and why they should not expose themselves to it until they are at the appropriate age anyways.

Moving on, Nelva has mentioned in his article that “What should be reflected, first and foremost, in a review’s content and in its score is the game’s quality, and while several aspects of “quality” are subjective, there are also many that aren’t. Production values are an example: graphics, animation, audio, textures, effects; Those are objective aspects of a game’s value that should not be overlooked.” As somebody that has owned and played this video game series, in my perspective I think that Bayonetta 2 has exceeded expectations from the Bayonetta 1 when it came to smooth gameplay mechanics – being able to reduce the amount of constant button pressing to fully complete charging attacks. Not only that, but Platinum Games has provided extra abilities for players such as giving Bayonetta the ability to glide on higher platforms with her Madama Butterfly Wings after jumping upwards and a variety of random “hack and slash” combo attacks on all bosses and mini bosses that will leave the players in suspense on what Bayonetta would do next, and included online gameplay levels and offline quests that challenge the players’ skills after completion of the story mode. The graphics and textures of Bayonetta 2 were beautifully executed to even reach cinematic levels of gaming throughout cutscenes and gameplay with the camera angles strategically displayed on the entire environment, and used closeups appropriately on the characters to present details on their unusual cosmetic makeup, clothing designs, and accessories as the characters communicated with each other. As for audio, the music soundtrack provided a mysterious, foreboding, yet epic emotions that could keep all players on edge and interested in the story mode. Furthermore, the dialogue between the characters was uniquely portrayed and ranged from what strong, young women and men would realistically say or react if they had encountered any enemies based on their three-dimensional personalities. If videogame players were tight on budget to own a headset, they could still experience the same amount of interactive and immersive fantasy-adventure gaming that Bayonetta 2 has provided as an entertainment product that would keep the players entertained for many years to come.

That objective review I made would convince so many young adult audiences to play Bayonetta 2. Eventually, it would have gained plenty of new fans to move this game up the ranks from being stuck in the “under rated” games category to gain widespread popularity. Never had I put in my own opinion on Bayonetta 2’s provocative content, because I know that judging a game based on what kind of adult material it had was not my job as a reviewer and I already assumed that my audience knows better what kind of material they would get themselves into before buying the game to begin with.

What amazed me now was how the world wanted to showcase diversity and promote less censorship in the entertainment industry. Although, once we get what we asked for there are a lot of negative people out there on the internet that make so-called entertainment reviews to talk about how the characters in a television show, movie, or videogame do not fit their own beliefs. According to Nelva, “It saddens me that between the many calls for diversity we’ve seen lately, some actually fly in the face of diversity itself by implying that games that celebrate sexuality and beauty like Bayonetta 2 should not exist or are not worth playing and enjoying.” This quote was a reminder to me that I should not judge any video game based on the number of suggestive themes it contains, but if it exceeded my expectations on quality video game entertainment.

Overall, I believed that Bayonetta 2 was a compelling video game that unfortunately received a bad reputation since huge video game reviewers like Polygon judged this video game based on the amount of provocative content it contained rather than the actual gameplay and creative execution itself. The creators behind Bayonetta 2 were considered artists because they told a narrative story and designed characters beyond our own imagination and made money from our fascination in this fantasy, action, and adventure game. Besides that, the purpose of video games was to provide another form of quality entertainment that all young adult audiences could enjoy at their own leisure time and Bayonetta 2 would have been one of those videogames if we had better reviewers that judged it based on gameplay and performance, instead of content.

Works Cited

Nelva, Giuseppe. “Bayonetta 2's ‘Over-Sexualization’ Complaint: A Perfect Example of What's Wrong with Modern Reviews.” DualShockers, DualShockers, 17 Oct. 2014, www.dualshockers.com/bayonetta-2s-over-sexualization-complaint-a-perfect-example-of-whats-wrong-with-modern-reviews/.

#bayonetta #bayonetta2 #nintendo #sega #platinum games #video games #videogame #college #composition #essay #college essay

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gagmebucky · 5 years ago

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hiiii i wrote this awhile ago but took it down because i was 👉🏼👈🏼 embarrassed about it (because i do not have the skill to pull off peter parker) and sorta still am but everyone’s been so nice to me about it i thought the best way to repay the kindness by posting it for those who did like it 😅 (originally inspired by spider man 2 with andrew garfield but loosely set in the 2018 issue of the amazing spider-man.)

in which the guys are making fun of peter and accidentally see a video of him fucking you. (includes avenger!peter x girlfriend!you, peter’s pov, voyeur!steve and voyeur!bucky, a sex tape featuring d/s dynamics, bondage, praise kink, exhibitionism, unprotected sex.)

do not repost.

—

Despite being twenty-one years old; a proper adult who lives with his high school sweetheart, a photographer doubling as a seven-year veteran vigilante in the dangers of New York, Peter Parker is still considered as a super-powered amateur to his seasoned peers.

Nonetheless, given his success in countless battles in the state, country, world and even galaxy-wide, he more than qualifies to hold the title of Avenger; it’s official now. A laid-back induction ceremony and his very own identity card: a sturdy rectangle, shiny with full clearance and all. Yet, as an official member, his teammates still treat him like he’s that same goofy, out-of-his-depths sixteen year old.

To be fair, yes, his style of heroism isn’t the most serious. He favors levity in the face of danger, a cheeky flare with smart quips and an infuriating grin. Even after taking a beating from the worst of foes, his demeanor never wavers because in the end, he wins. The villains are slayed and the people are saved, even comforted by the boyishly confident way he works.

But beyond that persona, he has grown into a skilled warrior. On that note, he wants to be regarded as such—at least, to a certain extent. The jokes and teasing, poking fun at his age or the shenanigans he gets himself into, don’t bother him. No, his playful wit handles it with relative ease, and he’s a good sport about it. The only thing that he’d want to see change is some recognition that he isn’t a naïve kid anymore and is fully capable of taking charge when needed.

With his recent acceptance into the gifted pantheon, he’s intent on making that known. The jesting can continue but he wants it to be with an understanding of his capabilities. Luckily, a perfect opportunity has presented itself to showcase his abilities: a training session.

He’s late. And yes, he knows that’s probably not a good impression to make.

In his own defense, it isn’t technically his fault. He forgot that you, his personal alarm clock (amongst other things), left early this morning because you volunteered to help his aunt move. Four years of mornings and nights, he’s gotten used to—and prefers—your languorous wake-up call.

Without your reminder, he regains consciousness fifteen minutes after the scheduled time and ends up scrambling to the compound. In a flurry, he throws on his suit—unknowingly backwards, he realizes later—trips at least three times over his own footing before he finally springs out of the balcony with webbed bursts.

When he reaches his destination, Captain America and the Winter Soldier are unimpressed; mid-simulation, it powers down. Both super-soldiers whirl around to face him, fixing raised eyebrows at his disheveled arrival.

He adjusts his now front-facing suit and shuffles forward into the space with as much confidence as an interrupter can have. “H - hey, guys,” Peter greets sheepishly and manages what he hopes is a charming smile, absentmindedly fidgeting with his phone. “Lookin’ good for a couple of geezers.”

Unfortunately, Steve Rogers is not charmed or disillusioned from the tardiness. “You’re late, Parker.” His arms fold, and he shakes his head when punctuating his disapproval with an echoing, “Again.”

Thankfully, to his right, more relaxed and cool, Bucky Barnes steps up. “C’mon, Stevie. Y’can’t be that surprised,” he chimes in matter of factly, contrasting against his friend with amusement sparkling in his blue eyes. “What’d you expect with Parker?” He gestures at the younger superhero. “Kid’s gonna be late to his own wedding.”

(Beside the point, but worth noting, he will not be late to meeting you at the altar. That is, of course, if you accept when he pops the question. Which is going to happen relatively soon, considering he has the ring in his nightstand drawer.)

The consult seems to relax him. “Yeah, I guess you’re right and—Peter, you—seriously, man?!” Steve sputters the last bit when he glanced over to see him blatantly check the notification that’s vibrated in his hand (on the device that is ruled to be stowed away during training). “Now the phone?!”

Even though he shouldn’t, being on thin ice with Cap and all (pun not intended), Peter’s gaze flickers down to see your contact name appear on the screen, and he can’t resist. While Bucky guffaws a laugh at his audacity, he’s swiping up to pull up your text thread.

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:37AM: spider boyyyyy you’ll never guess what i found in a box labeled ‘peter’s junk’ ;;;)

peter, 10:37AM: those magazines are NOT mine and i don’t know how they got there.

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:38AM: not quite but close, naughty boy

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:38AM: for a man who depends on keeping secrets and a penchant for home movies, you might ought to keep a lock on your phone unless you want someone to see me like this...

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:38AM: (video attached)

Immediately, he recognizes the pornographic thumbnail. One glance, and he’s remembering the first couple of times you guys explored the exhibitionism side of things. It was at the end of his freshman year of college and taped on a phone he thought he had lost. But he must've forgotten it at his aunt’s house, and she tossed it in the box until you came along.

Although there’s been plenty more made, he recalls that one being a shared favorite, his especially. When long-distance duty calls, it was his go-to media. The angles, your face and body beneath the lights, the sounds it caught, you once asked if he considered switching to cinematography instead of photographer

Subconsciously, his teeth run over his bottom lip, feeling that blazing spark of desire igniting in the pit of his gut, partially at the memory and partially at what’ll happen once you guys can re-watch it together; his thumbs start typing away with that message.

“Peter!” Steve’s exasperated voice snaps, but to no avail—the real gall of the youngster, or the effect of you. His weight shifts toward his best friend, and he nudges him with his elbow. “Kids these days!” The hundred-something year old’s gaze cocks a brow back over. “Is that why you were late? Blowing off training to text your girlfriend?”

The text delivers with an audible bloop. Finally, his concentration gives, and he can look up, though his expression is clueless from the last minute. “Huh?” His brain registers what he missed, and he winces. “Sorry, Cap. My bad.”

Bucky chuckles. “Give him a break, Steve,” he faux comes to his defense, a teasing quality underlying his tone. “He’s young and in love. It’s not his fault he’s pussy-whipped.” He cracks him an antagonizing grin as Peter rolls his eyes. “He can’t go an hour without sending those little weird pictures with heart eyes, or she might not know he’s thinking about her.”

“As if you know anything about romance, old man,” he fires back and presses past them with squared shoulders, correcting him quite seriously: “And they’re called emojis, by the way. But that’s not what I was doing, if you want to know so bad.”

The brunette tilts his head thoughtfully, and small hackles arise for reasons he doesn’t understand, or pay attention to. “You know, I do want to know really badly,” Bucky decides and poses a question to his left, “Wouldn’t you, too, Steve? Aren’t you curious what his girlfriend sent that was so much more important than training?”

The blond mimics his actions and clicks his tongue. “Yeah, I am.”

Peter’s eyebrows pinch while his skin tingles and the hair on the back of his neck stands straight up. “What—” Before his senses process it, one of the super-soldiers plucks his phone out of his hands and darts back beside his best friend. His jaw drops as he tries to follow after him. “Bucky, you asshole—”

“Some spidey senses, huh?” The Winter Soldier lifts it high over his head, utilizing his six-foot stature against his five-ten like elementary school bullies do and older siblings to their juniors. “Haven’t ‘cha heard about sharing with the class?” He laughs and practically stiff-arms him to squint up at the screen. “Aw, he can’t wait to see her. What’s it been, more than two hours since you two saw each other last?”

Conceding to the height difference, Peter stops his physical efforts and diverts it to someone reasonable. “Cap, you gonna help me out here?” he addresses the entertained onlooker in the most friendly voice he can manage.

“The kid’s got separate anxiety not just from his girlfriend but phone too, Buck,” Steve drawls with a lopsided curve of his lips. He side-steps Peter to stand next to Bucky, and for a second, he thinks he’s on his side despite the tease, but he simply adds a stern, “So be careful. You don’t want to break it, or Parker will have a fit.”

Peter crosses his arms and scowls. “Ha, ha,” he retorts dryly, only somewhat amused by their banter. He tilts his head up at them, and the duo look thoroughly pleased with themselves. “You know, you guys are kind of dicks.”

“No, we’re your mentors, kid,” Steve corrects with a wink and rests his arm on his friend’s shoulder. “This is a lesson. No phones—” He jabs his thumb back in reference to the device’s unlocked screen: “—when you’re supposed to be training.”

“Yeah,” Bucky chimes in upon glancing up from his phone. “And a little advice, women don’t like clinginess. Try being a little more stern and see how that works for you. If you’re able to manage that. But I won’t hold it against ya if you can’t.”

“Uh-huh,” Peter patronizes with a bob of his head, biting back a response pointing out the hundred-something year old’s inexperience. Instead, he focuses on the electronic readily loaded up with some private content. With that, he decides to do the rational and mature thing and ask nicely. “Noted. So, uh, can I have my phone back now?”

To his shock, Bucky merely flashes a smirk and his thumb scrolls half-heartedly over the thread. Thereafter, he leans toward Steve and raises his cell for him to see. “Oh, look, it’s a video,” he teases. “What could Y/N send that would take priority of training?��

There’s an unspoken let’s see then a metal finger taps the play button. Before Peter can think, much less react, Captain American and the Winter Soldier are watching how he effortlessly renders his pretty little girlfriend into a cute nonsensical yet eager mess—

In his point-of-view shot, the ratio holds in portrait view in a bid to capture every bit of you. Above you, the camera focuses on you and your beautifully debauched state beneath warm lighting where it’s unalienable that the camera was made for you.

Your eyes are dilated brightly, desperate with desire as your lashes flutter up at him. A sheen coats your features and glistens like glitter at the highest points of your face while the shape of your face is framed by your stretched arms.

Your wrists are bound over your head, splotched with expertly sprayed strong, white webs. The mesh sticks them together in a criss-cross, comfortable but nearly impossible to break out of, fixed in place atop his headboard. The tautness tugs a mild strain on your figure so your breasts are jutting out like an offering, and it’s obvious he’s taken advantage of it. Darkened marks adorn your glowing complexion, peppered across your décolletage with imprints of his teeth; including your nipples, sucked swollen and tender.

The angle trails down until it reveals the sight of him mercilessly pounding inside of you. His better-than-average girth is sliding in and out of your tight channel; slicked in shared translucent essence, creaming around the base, your inner walls visibly clinging to his cock with every backward stroke. His hand splays on your mound, using his thumb to abuse your engorged clit. He easily keeps the sensitive nub pinned under his control despite your wildly twisting hips.

Like the display, the soundtrack is equally obscene. Loud, your stuffed depths gush and squelch as skin slaps rhythmically. Your breathy, wanton moans overshadow both, drawn out whimpers, almost nonsensical other than the syllable of his name. A melody of neediness, you sound so fucking pretty, (depraved, like a whore, you once told him during your little film marathon with a sly smile), and for him specifically.

The frame pans upward and confirms you look just as good. A perfect mess, unhinged by the skilled ministrations of your boyfriend. Passion beads on your forehead like reflections off of a diamond. Panting, your lips are plumped from kissing parted with mewls of pleasure.

“P - please—I need to—can I - I please—” You’re begging like the sweet little thing you are, incoherent babbling the result of his excessive edging. Of course, you know better than to give into the sensations ravaging you; instead you ignore your visceral desire and ask him for your release. “Peter, please!”

A deep chuckle vibrates behind the camera as his big hand slides into view, trailing over your jiggling tits to the slope of your throat. “Maybe,” he says breathily and grasps the line of your jaw between his fingers. “Open your mouth first, babe.”

No more preamble necessary, you follow his direction, your pink tongue flat over your Cupid’s bow. Immediately, a long string of his saliva drips into view and onto your taste buds; the vulgar act is accepted with a swallow and a quivering moan of, “T - thank you.”

“Good girl,” he praises huskily, and the voiced approval has you visibly shivering. “Alright, then, pretty girl. Make it good for me, and c’mon—”

Before your otherworldly reckoning washes over you and his teammates can watch your bliss immortalized in film, Peter snatches his property back.

Not much force is necessary as Bucky’s grip has been stunned loose. A dark expression permeates on young hero’s face but not because of embarrassment; if he was still nineteen or eighteen, he would’ve been mortified that his titular superiors caught a depraved glimpse of his sex life, on both his and your behalf. Rather than, there’s just a flit of annoyance when he folds his arms.

“Shit,” Bucky is the first to speak, exhaling the swear raggedly. His blue pupils have widened in obvious attraction, dilated dark, blinking rapidly as if it’ll help calm him down from the clip of you, his innocent seeming girlfriend, all ruined and begging. “Parker, fuck, I - I didn’t know you got down like that.”

There’s a swell in his chest, pride beating steadily while he remains reticent-faced. He prefers you keep your bedroom activities secluded there. Yeah, he likes to be in control and you like to be controlled but it’s only in a sexual nature. Yet, their reactions—stunned, embarrassed and viscerally affected—surges smug satisfaction he’s never known before through his veins.

Even the prestigious Captain America is bothered, though he may try to hide it. He clears his throat, a flustered pink coloring his cheeks. “Peter, uh,” he says, barely maintaining the confidence to look him in the eye after witnessing his girlfriend like that. “We - we shouldn’t have invaded your privacy like that.”

“Uh-huh,” is Peter’s response, a hint of a smirk curling on one side of his lips. “Why don’t you guys call me after you’re finished with your cold showers, and we can actually train. Until then, I’m gonna go to my girl who’s more than eager to handle mine.” He pauses. “Maybe if you guys ask nice enough, I might let her show you how well I’ve trained her.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #marvel smut imagines #spiderman x reader smut #marvel smut #heh I am going to pass out #I..#goodnight im off me ass sjdjjsxj

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pikapikabishes · 4 years ago

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It's Okay Now(Kirishima x gn!Reader)

Disclaimer: all characters rightfully belong to their original creators, only thing that is mine is the plot. Also do not copy my writing. Thank you

Summary: Class 3A's Y/n was having a jolly day hanging out with the BakuSquad, including her amazing bf of over 6 months, Eijirou Kirishima, even with all the stress piling up, like a shaken soda bottle ready to burst, until said explosion finally happened. Triggered by the littlest, probably stupidest event

Warnings: anxiety (?), panic attacks, not eating for days, mentions death, suggestive themes, a bit of swearing

Mentions: mental breakdown, overworking oneself, starvation, hyperventilating, ugly crying, kiri being absolutely biggest sweetheart, daddy!Kiri breifly

A/n: this is my first fic on Tumblr so please be nice, and if you enjoyed it, like and comment

Everything hurt. My head, my eyes, my chest, my mind. I don't even know what happened. One minute I'm perfectly fine, having a good time with my friends, the next I'm in this situation.

Im sitting in the middle of my dorm on the floor, crying and sobbing over the smallest thing. I admit being stressed with everything going on in my life; with upcoming school exams , training every single day to improve my ultimate moves, and the biggest clicher... my dad's passing a couple months prior.

This whole time I've just been bottling it all up, trying my hardest to put up a brave front as to not worry my mom, who already has a lot on her plate, my friends and boyfriend, Kirishima. To be frank, I haven't even told my class or Kiri, keeping a bright smile as to not hint them in on my life crashing down around me. Some days are easy to keep up my smile, to let my mind focus on something else, and then there are harder days when everything reminds me of my dad.

I was real close to him, we did a lot of fun stuff together; going to amusement parks, going out to see movies we both were really excited to watch, going out to eat at our favorite restaurants.

It still doesnt feel real after all this time. It felt just like yesterday he was perfectly fine, we were celebrating my grandma's birthday, and literally the next day, I find him stiff and eerily still in his bed. And then everything crashing down on me as the paramedics regretfully tell me that my dad was no longer of this world, when I sob into the phone to my mom that my dad was gone, when I listened to my grandma's wails as my mom told her of her son's passing.

It all felt so surreal, like if I go over to see my grandma at her house, I'll see my dad sitting there in the living room, greeting me with his smile and warm hugs and kisses.

I sob harder as I remember all the times we watched Disney movies and me crying at some scenes as my dad happily comforts me. Buying me a toy from one of the movies I adored at the time. Him gifting me a puppy when he moved into a new neighborhood and I didnt have anyone to play with.

My head's pounding, a deep pressure in my brain, as I clutch tightly to the same doll he bought me all those years ago. My screams silent as I try to keep my classmates from finding me in such a pathetic state and worrying about me, my brain not processing that everyone was still at school. I fought to take control of my emotions again, wanting to be strong for my mom, grandma, and my friends. Unknowning of the pace of my breathing as I desperately tried to grasp my emotions.

My stress and anxiety climbing higher with each panicked breath. All those late nights I stayed up studying as much as I can for the midterm exams, catching up to me. I even forsaken eating as to study so I can at least get a passing grade. And the times I didnt spend studying was spent training to try and get my mind to focus on anything rather than fully face the reality that I no longer live in a world with my dad in it.

When was the last time I had a fulfilling meal? Three days?? And the time before that?? I dont even remember, the pounding in my head preventing me from thinking too much. All I can think about is what caused this stupid meltdown in the first place, my frustrations climbing higher with my stress and anxiety.

~~~

Today was one of those days where it was hard to keep up my smile for people. In an attempt to cheer myself up, I made myself the same lunch my dad and I used to make together for later, excited to eat as this was my first actual meal in days.

As I stroll down the hallways to meet up with Kiri and the rest of the BakuSquad, someone in a rush, bumps into me full force, causing me to fall and drop my lunch on the floor. I only had a moment to grieve as I see my precious lunch splattered all over the floor before the person that bumped into me uttered a measly, rushed "sorry" before hurrying on their way, stepping my lunch in the process.

I stayed there in my position on the floor, looking at my lunch with grief. I know it was stupid to start crying over something that can be replaced with something else that Lunch Rush made, but there the crocodile tears were. My heart and mind had wanted that lunch.

Without thinking I got up and ran out of school and towards the dormitories, deaf to the calls of my fellow 3A classmates and the incoming call on my phone.

~~~

I was brought back to the present by the sound of pounding coming from my dorm door. I was still fighting for control, not able to send a reply without my sobs mixing in with my voice.

"Y/n? Are you okay?" A familiar voice sounded through the door. Of course it would be Kiri to be checking up on me. "I tried calling you to see where you were, but you didn't answer. Tsuyu told me she saw you running off upset when I went to go looking for you."

For some reason I sobbed harder, barely able to keep quiet.

"Princess/Prince, please tell me what's wrong, I'm getting really worried."

He stayed quiet for a moment, anxiously waiting for my response. And of course my body betrays me when an ugly sob wracks through my very being, unable to quiet it down.

"Princess/Prince, are you crying?!" Kiri's voice carried his panic and worry. "I'm coming in!" He warned before slamming the door open.

I barely raised my head to meet his worried crimson eyes as his giant frame took up most of the doorway, frozen. His expression falls at the sight of the giant crocodile tears running down my face, distress written all over my expression.

Without saying anything, he rushed over to my side, his big, warm hand landing on my back, immediately rubbing gentle circles as to comfort me.

"Baby, what's wrong? Tell me," he asked, voice trying to soothe me. I shook my head, unable to say or utter a word and I dropped my head again, breathing erratic. "You're hyperventilating, baby. You need to try and calm down a bit."

More sobs was the only thing I responded with. Hearing some shuffling, a moment passed before a soft calming melody sounded through the storm in my mind, along with the sound of gentle falling rain. It was the same several hour music track that I would usually listen to when something was bothering me.

I've always loved the sound of falling rain and ocean waves.

Kiri dropped his phone to the floor, letting the music wrap us in its soothing melody. He brought his hand to my cheek to gently bring my face up and face him. His expression sad as he gets a better look at my distraught, of the crocodile tears streaming down my face, of the deep sadness in my eyes.

Letting his other hand to join my face, he gently wiped away my tears as I tried to control my breathing. "Baby, you have to calm down. It's okay now, I'm here," he said in a gentle voice, bringing me up onto his lap, and wrapping his strong arms around me.

I clutch onto his uniform jacket, burying my face into his chest as I sobbed away, ruining his uniform with my tears and snot.

He gently rocked the both of us, bringing one of his hands up to my head as he softly brushed his fingers through my hair. "Shhh, baby. It's okay. It's okay," he whispered in my ear.

I don't know how long we sat there, listening to falling rain, Kiri rocking us, whispering calming words into my ear before my breathing was back to normal and my sobs turning into sniffles. Even long after I've calmed down, Kiri still held onto me tightly, grounding me from the storm whirling in my mind.

Only when I lifted up my head from his chest to look up at him did he give me a soft smile, reaching up to brush away strands of hair from my face and eyes. Then, Kiri reached over to his phone, pausing the music before turning back to me.

"Feeling better?"

I slowly nodded my head, my voice hoarse as I finally managed to give a reply, "Yeah, a little bit."

"What happened back there?" Kiri asked, his brow furrowed in worry.

Tears were already welling up in my (e/c) eyes, my bottom trembling as I fought to hold back the tears. Kiri reached up one hand to hold my chin, his thumb softly brushing my bottom lip.

"Please baby, I hate seeing you so distraught," he told me, eyes full of concern as he continued to stroke my bottom lip, as if trying to coax the words to come out, to explain what was paining me so much so he can fix it.

"I-" I stuttered, sniffling back the tears. "I miss him."

"Miss who, baby?" Kiri asked, confused.

"M-my dad," I said, voice now shaky as the tears started falling again. "I m-miss him so much."

Kiri seemed to come to the conclusion that I might have only been extremely homesick. "Why dont you go visit him today then? It's Friday, so you can just stay with him for the weekend."

I violently shook my head. "I-I can't."

"Why not, baby?" He started stroking my back again to try and comfort me.

"H-he died! Two months ago!" I sobbed, pressing my face to his chest again.

"Oh fuck. Shit, I am soo sorry baby. Why didn't you tell me?" Kiri asked, hugging me tightly to him. "I would've been there for you."

"I-I didn't w-want to w-worry y-you," I cried.

Kirishima started rocking us both again, his grip on me tighter as if trying to hold me together. "Of course I'm going to be worried baby. I have been worried about you. I noticed you've been distancing yourself for a while now, but I didn't want to make you talk when you weren't ready. God, I'm so unmanly, not realizing that you were in so much pain all this time." He placed his hand on top of my head. "I am sooo sorry, baby."

I sniffled, shaking my head. "D-Don't be. I w-was the one who d-decided not to t-tell any of you g-guys. I-it's not your f-fault."

"But why didn't you tell us baby? You know we all would've been here for you."

I shrugged. "I-I just wanted to be s-strong for y-you guys. I d-didn't want to w-worry any of you."

"Oh, babe." He pulled back enough to look at me. "You are strong. But it's okay to lean on us, on mee. Just because you're crying, doesn't make you weak. You're mourning, and its okay to cry when you're mourning. It just shows how close you are with your dad and how much you're missing him."

"But... But it feels like my fault though," I cried.

"What do you mean?" His brows furrowed again in confusion.

"I... I was there that night. The night he passed." I wiped at the tears even though it was fruitless with how the tears continued to fall. "We were all happily celebrating my grandma's birthday. We were all laughing. And I went to sleep a bit late that night. I noticed how his was position in his bed when I got up to use the bathroom, but I didnt think any of it. My dad sits in that position sometimes, and I know that he goes to sleep way later than me. And when I woke up at 11 the next morning because of my grandma calling for me, I got up to see what she needed. You remember, that my grandma cant really move around that well anymore?" I asked him.

Kiri nodded his head, remembering that I helped my grandma when the two of us had dinner with my dad and grandma. "So when I got up and headed towards her room, I saw my dad in the same position. But figured he must've just fallen asleep... Then I went to use the bathroom after helping my grandma, and when I looked closer, I noticed how swollen his feet were. I... I knew my dad was always sick and his legs getting swollen all the time, but... I-I just didnt think I'd find him like that." I cried, covering my mouth as another sob wracked threw me. "Vomit... All over the blankets and his bierd... A blood clot hanging from his nose-"

"Shhh, its okay, baby" Kiri hushed me, rubbing my back, "If it's too much for you, you don't have to explain anymore."

After waiting for my breathing to stabilize again, I continued, "I... I just feel like if I had checked up on him before I went to bed... Maybe... Maybe the paramedics would've been able to save him..."

Kiri grabbed onto my shoulders to pull me away so as to look me dead in the eyes with a stern look. "Y/n, listen to me. It is not your fault," he said firmly. "Okay? It is not your fault. Sometimes these things happen."

"But-" I started, but he cut me off.

"No but's. Okay? I know I havent known him as long as you, but I could tell from the first time I met him that he was soo proud of you. And probably still is." His words made me cry harder, my bottom lip trembling again as I tried to pull myself together in front of this amazing man in front of me. "There's no need to beat yourself up over this," Kiri said, pressing a kiss to my forehead as I started bawling my eyes out again. Kiri started rocking us again, holding me tight as I let out all my sadness and anguish.

"Shhhh... It's okay... Everything's will be okay..." He mumbled in my ear. "Let it all out."

We stayed like that for the next hour as I let out all my suffering, the scent of his cologne, the comforting words, and the sound of the music track all lulling me to sleep, my mind and body too heavy to fight it off.

~~~

I woke up to a dark room, the sun long gone over the horizon. I blearily blinked my eyes open, feeling my tears dried over the skin of my cheeks. All of a sudden, a warm hand slides under my shirt, rubbing a thumb on my stomach. A face was then buried into the back of my neck, a soft pair of lips kissing at the skin.

"Morning beautiful/handsome," came Kiri's sleep filled voice

"Mmnn what time is it?" I mumbled.

Kiri pulled away for a moment, turning to reach behind him for presumably his phone on my nightstand. Squinting at the glare of the phone, Kiri gave me an answer, "7 o'clock at night, so its just about dinner time." Dropping his phone back onto the nightstand, he resumed his position of spooning me, completely dwarfing my body with his giant frame. "You haven't ate lunch right?"

I shook my head. "Or breakfast. Or dinner last night. Or any meals for the past few days."

"What?" Kiri shot up, glaring down at me. "And the time before that?"

I shrugged, my brain too drained to think of a solid answer. "Couple days."

"Y/n!"

"I know, I know. I shouldn't be skipping my meals everyday. I should eat at least once a day."

"Is that why you look thinner? Cause you've been skipping your meals??!"

I shrug at him. "I was busy studying for the midterms. Besides I never went 3 days without eating something."

"That's not the point!" Kiri rubbed his hand down his face before looking at me with worry. "You shouldn't be skipping any meals or overworking yourself like this." He reached over to brush a lock of hair away. "Babe, my heart hurts at the thought of you not taking care of yourself."

I place my hand on top of his, leaning into his touch. "I know... I'm sorry. I didnt mean to worry you like this. I just... couldn't come to terms with reality so I busied myself to make me forget the pain. On the bright side I came up with this new, awesome ultimate move I've been dying to show you," I said with some excitement, trying to cheer him up.

He scowled sternly at me for a moment before sighing, shaking his head, any trace of worry and frustration gone from his face as a small smile took over his lips. "Alright fine." But then the stern look came back as he firmly told me, "But I'm not letting you skip any meals anymore, even if I have to force you to eat. And you're not doing no studying or training this weekend."

"Wait, but-" I tried to counter, stopped when the stern look in his eyes intensified.

"No if's, and's or but's. Unless its yours up in the air as I fuck you so hard you wont be able to do anything this weekend but relax."

I blushed and swallowed loudly. "Good, now wait here while I go get you a plate. Bakugou's supposed to be cooking tonight." He leaned down to plant a kiss on my lips. Then another. Then another and another before pulling away only slightly to look into my eyes with that familiar dark look in his eyes, a smirk forming on his handsome face. "Maybe I should grab you two plates. You're going to need it for fuel for tonight."

My faced burned as I realized what he meant. He chuckled darkly before standing up and walking towards the door. "I'll be back in a few. And you better be stripped down to nothing by the time I get back." Turning back towards me with a seductive look. "Don't you worry about a thing, baby girl/boy. Daddy's going to take real good care of you this weekend." Then he opened the door and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

I gulped loudly, already feeling that familiar heat down below.

It was going to a long weekend.

#gender neutral #anguish #daddy kirishima #mentally drained #kirishima eijiro x reader #my hero academia

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tenderlyrenjun · 4 years ago

Text

[4:05 P.M.]

“Na Jaemin!” you exclaim, running into your friend’s arms.

Renjun follows slowly, walking behind you like an escort, even though he made sure to hire a few. They all assume positions around the estate - your guest bedroom, the kitchens, a few entrances, the gardens. ‘A few’ to him includes an elite, small group of trained warriors whose sense of duty got enhanced after bitten; to you, ‘a few’ should have meant taking Mark and his trusted favorites, but Renjun convinced you to let them safe guard your own manor.

You hug Jaemin over his shoulder, letting him melt into your neck. His guards take microscopic steps that your ears became accustomed to before they were even born. “Tell your newborns to back off,” you hiss in his ear, “or I’ll do it myself.” You pull away, smiling sweetly.” And you know I don’t play nicely.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes. “They’re all at least 200 years old.”

You give him a serious look, red flashing across your irises. “Still.” You do not ... react very favorably with guards standing at attention so closely to your every move, especially with Renjun in the room. “I’ve had whiskey older than them.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes again, a pacifist’s smile on his face, but complies with your request nonetheless - probably something to do with Renjun’s presence. He silently brushes his nose, telling the guards to stand down. Jaemin embraces Renjun in the same manner, hugging him tightly. “Tell your mate to quit threatening my guards every time you two stay here.”

“Can’t,” Renjun mutters in his ear. They pull away then grasp each other’s forearms, sharing a look: can’t, or won’t? Renjun breaks the silent conversation first, shaking Jaemin to break the spell. “Separate minds and all.”

“Yet in all 700 years I’ve known you two, never have I seen you separated.”

You slide into Renjun’s side, kissing his cheek as an annoying public display of affection that does not bother Jaemin in the way it would your partner had his mate been present. Even so, Renjun accepts you, draping his arm possessively over your shoulders. “And we have no intention, moving forward.”

“The infamous ‘we’ couple of the Huang Coven,” Jeno announces loudly, bouncing down the stairs, into the throne hall, dramatically. Renjun rolls his eyes; he hates that moniker. Maybe while the two of you visit the Na, he can convince Jaemin to change the title. Jeno, his antithesis, oppositely more traditional, tightens the watch under his suit. And you just know Renjun wants to poke fun at you. Wearing business casual, over streetwear, was a smart choice. Although, Jaemin’s guards wear sunglasses and leather jackets, indoors.

You speed over to Jeno faster than the others, embracing him in the same fashion as you did Jaemin. And he accepts it, all his friend congregating closely by the exit. “It’s been too long, old friend.”

“What are you doing here?” Renjun asks half-jokingly. “Doyoung actually let you outside?” The Kim Family patriarch is rather ,, protective of his members, and has been for the last millennia, even more so actually since officially turning Jeno sometime during the Second Dark Age.

Jeno hugs you in return, his friendship grip crossing diagonally over your back, unlike Jaemin’s around the neck position or Renjun’s more romantic hold. He pulls away seconds after to extend handshakes with the other two. “Doyoung is actually more relaxed than you think,” he admits, hoping that enemy ears are far (one cannot be too careful, especially as other covens accumulate members, like grains of rice - for power, he assumes). “And you would know that,” Jeno redirects to Renjun, “if you got to know him.”

“Hmm,” Renjun hums, not really considering it. You return into his arms, hugging his waist like a newlywed incapable of separating. “The air between us is always so ... tense.”

“Awkward,” you correct. Renjun glances down at you, pinching your side as you continue, “He means awkward. Speaking of -” You smack Renjun’s hand away and spin to Jaemin. “- how is Jaehyun? Ever since breaking off his -” Renjun clears his throat, asking you not to say the word coven, and you nod your head, easily persuaded. “- family, things have been tense between you two, no?”

“No,” Jaemin denies. He refuses to admit that he is awkward with anyone, although his introvert tendencies appear when in large groups, especially if he does not see those people daily. “Jaehyun just added two new members - Jungwoo and Sungchan.”

“Oh, cool,” Jeno interrupts. “That’s why I’m here too.” He passes off a calligraphed note to Jaemin, whose shoulder you nosily look over until Renjun tugs your back into his chest. “His name is Donghyuck, or Haechan when uses his special ability - luring blood with his voice.”

“He and Renjun should get along well,” you comment. “Their powers are compatible.”

“Not as much as yours and mine, love.” Renjun kisses the crown of your head, hanging his arms around your shoulders, to which Jaemin rolls his eyes. You are starting to think Renjun is just making Jaemin jealous, on purpose. Psychologists say that people start complaining about being single while near couples, and since Renjun hates all the formal meetings, getting Jaemin a long-term mate might back him off.

“You don’t have a special ability though,” Jeno points out.

“No,” Renjun disagrees, shaking his head. “Beauty.” You take your turn, for the Huang Clan, to roll your eyes. He always says that your natural looks became enhanced after you turned (however, he usually keeps the flirting private), and although you disagree, you cannot stop him from saying so. His own natural ability becomes stronger when he is happy, which is anytime around you.

As the sun settles into the sky’s middle, everyone sits around a short, long table. Renjun assumes the head across Jaemin, you at his right hand and Jeno at Jaemin’s. Your mate was granted hosting duties, despite being a nomad to this estate. Probably because he is the best at straining tea. And to begin the ceremony, he asks the first question:

“So, Jaemin, how is Jisung fairing? Adjusted to vampire yet?”

“No,” Jaemin shakes his head. He accepts a glazed cup though, with both hands, from Renjun, who hands out empty earthenware as a way to keep track of who is drinking. Jaemin has an extra servant at beck and call in case anyone wants something more or he wants coffee. This set is meant to remain empty until he starts pouring the first round (into new glasses). “I think he’ll get over it once we turn him in a few years.”

“Aish,” Jeno mutters, waving his hand across the table. “Recruitment is starting younger and younger these days.”

“Yet none of us look a day over 23,” Renjun comments. He starts a fire under the second teapot, an empty one that he will fill with blood in a few minutes. “Did you get water from the spring outside, or did you have a servant retrieve a bottle from Nunobiki again?”

“The latter,” Jaemin nods, popping a white sugar cube in his mouth. He relaxes more on the pillow cushion, stretching a legs underneath the table. “It is a special occasion after all. I haven’t seen you three in the same room in what? 80 years?”

You push his shoulder, throwing him off balance. “We’re not divorced. You can visit us any time.”

“I haven’t left the compound in -” Jaemin looks at his watch. “- God, ninety years.”

“All the more reason to. Plus you’ll never guess what Renjun got us into!”

Speaking of the devil, Renjun clears his throat, asking for attention as he places a strainer over a teapot, pouring cold blood into the wide opening. He takes the now hot water and drizzles it in as well while the conversation comes to a stop, the ceremony’s second phase. Everyone watches closely, your eyes more permanently sparkling red, almost like having being starved for weeks. Renjun pours the now warm mixture on some leaves, then removes it just as quickly, repeating the process twice more, to fully rinse the leaves. When he takes the pot of boiled blood, spilling into the decanting bowl, you hear a guzheng in the steam, transporting you to the park in 1500 where Renjun would escort you to feed the ducks. No wonder Jaemin relinquishes hosting duties to Renjun; he always emits a beautiful memory. Renjun starts an hour glass, timing five minutes for the water to cool while everyone resumes conversation.

Jeno bites into an hojicha brownie, chewing the hazelnuts extra thoroughly (it takes like bits of flesh, which make it all the more delicious. “You were saying? What did Renjun rope you into this time?”

Renjun rolls his eyes, already groaning, and you smirk, knowing that your friends will take your side.

“College,” you seethe.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds!”

“It is,” you point at Renjun, though he knows you are at least half-joking. You look at Jaemin, who sports an amused look; he, nor Jeno, has never seriously entertained college, preferring their current roles. “We’re registered for a full year of classes. I want to come visit three weeks ago, but midterms and projects take up extra hours of our time.”

“We don’t sleep though,” Jeno points out, siding with Renjun. “It can’t be as hard as it is for mortals who need 8 hours a night.” He taps Renjun’s shoulder. “Ha, remember being 20?”

“Heavens,” Renjun sighs nostalgically, reclining on his pillows in thought, staring at the ceiling like it can show a movie of his first lifetime. “Learning how to write from pictures? Carving lines into bronze with literal ancient tools? Computers are so much better.” He gently kicks your foot. “It’s why I signed you up for that Microsoft class.”

“Microsoft?” Jaemin scoffs. “Does your school not provide Apple courses?”

“No.” You roll your eyes. “Not that it matters anyways. I have to perform calculus by hand. I didn’t even do that during the Han dynasty! I still have the original suanpan in my study.”

“Yes, but,” Renjun drawls, “you have to admit how much easier it is to type integrals into that new graphing calculator I bought you.”

You turn to Jeno, deadpanned. “Everyday, I have to do homework, but yeah, no, you two should totally try it.”

The last grain of coarse sand falling onto the pile echoes loudly for your vampiric ears, so all of you stare at it, suddenly dehydrated again. And ever so slowly, almost theatrically (ever the moongwa), Renjun takes the original pot, adding some extra warm water until the blood’s color becomes translucent enough to see the pretty leaves. He pours everything into the decanting bowl, disrupting the ration between blood and water. The ceremony’s final phase comes to an end as he serves the drinks, handing one to Jaemin first as a sign of respect. You are next, his co-leader, then Jeno, the only member without a title (ironic, considering that he was a prince in his first lifetime, higher than any of you), and himself in closing. Everyone waits for Jaemin to take the first sip, ignoring the fact that Renjun assumed a host’s role. When his reaction is satisfactory, you take the second sip. It is very sweet, the floral aroma lingering the longer you keep the small cup near your nose. Renjun’s stoic demeanor does not give away anything you recognize, possibly because he is too humble or because he additionally drinks in all the praise. When Jeno takes the last first sip, reciprocating the tastefulness, you all resume conversation and the ceremony, more laxed.

Jaemin gestures for a guard to let one of the servants enter and asks for an iced americano, ending his tea drinking.

Renjun waits for you to also ask for coffee before also ordering it, and Jeno follows suit when the last pot empties.

“It is our cycle to sleep,” Renjun announces, cleaning his hands with a wet wipe. A servant comes in to clear the table, and all of you wait for the table to be emptied before retiring to your individual rooms.

Renjun starts tossing the extraneous throw pillows on the bed foot bench, already dressed in a comfortable matching pyjama set while you still have yet to change. He runs around the bed, after he finishes preparing it, nestling his chin into the crook of your neck.

“Come to bed.”

You hear him whine, interlocking his fingers above your liver, one of his most favorite places to drink your blood, once he punctures the right spot. His fangs start growing, gently knocking your skin for an invitation. You give it to him freely, extending your head left - better access, wordlessly.

“These meetings are infinitely more tolerable with you here,” he whispers, already reliving the ambrosial tea that seems to just be steaming through your tiny pores. He takes one lick, preparing you for the deep puncture. “You should come to them more often.”

You anticipate his bite but he only nibbles your jugular, grazing his teeth ever so lightly when his lips part too wide. “If I went with you, then I wouldn’t miss you.” You spin around, still enveloped by his arms. Renjun pushes you into the wardrobe, and your hands brace his shoulders, like a prey trying to escape, except your fingers dig into his shirt, attempting to pull him impossibly close. “We wouldn’t have these moments if I always went with you.”

“But we’re having this moment now, while you’re with me.”

“You’re so clingy,” you whisper as he tugs your hair by the base of your scalp. You sigh, knees faltering.

Renjun places a singular kiss on your neck, displaying immense restraint against drinking you dry. You feel his fangs reach maximum length despite not sinking into your skin yet, so you draw him in by his throat. And he smirks. “Who’s the clingy one now?”

“Bite me.”

“Well, if you insist.”

#renjun #renjun x reader #nct imagines #renjun imagine #renjun blurbs #renjun timestamps #renjun fluff #nct blurbs #nct timestamps #nct fanfic #nct dream #nct #nct dream blurbs #nct dream fluff #nct dream timestamps #nct fluff #vampire au #jeno x reader #jaemin x reader

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supernatural-jackles · 5 years ago

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The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 13

Title: The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 13

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3,834

Warnings: High Stress Levels, Mentions of the readers shitty Mom, FLUFF, All around cuteness!

Summary: Driving down the road, going well over the speed limit. You come across a man walking in the opposite direction with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. His head cast down as he walked. Your gut instinct is telling you to check on this man, no matter what your parents told you growing up. Little did you know just how much this would change your life.

The Man on the Side of the Road - Masterlist

A/N: Three parts left after this one! I hope y’all enjoy this part! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Happy Reading!!

Your head was pounding. Your vision was starting to blur and everything looked the same. You felt like you had been awake for forty eight hours. Your stomach was in knots, your chest was tight. You were beyond exhausted.

Finals were going to be the absolute death of you.

You buried your face in your hands, trying your hardest to clear your eyes and make them see one thing instead of eight. You had been at this for hours and nothing was sticking. You needed to pass this final. It was the most important one and you needed a seventy five in order to advance to the class you were taking next semester. You needed to learn the next twenty definitions and the process of seven more things and you literally had no idea how you were going to pull this off.

“Knock knock,” Dean called out from behind your door. You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.

“Come in,” you called out, trying your hardest to sound okay. Your bedroom door opened and Dean walked in. He was wearing his new pyjama pants that Sam had sent him as an early Christmas present. They had presents scattered all over them, and quite frankly they looked cute on him.

“Hey you,” he greeted you. “Still studying?”

“More like dying,” you sighed.

“Nothing’s sticking huh?” he frowned, taking a seat at the end of your bed, giving you a bit of space.

“Nope,” you shook your head. “I am not going to pass this final at this rate. I’m stressed out, exhausted and all I want to do is sleep for ten years.”

“Don’t say that, sweetheart. You just need a break,” he suggested. “Why don’t we go make some dinner and pie. I did the groceries so we’ve got some food in the house. I can make you one of my dad’s recipes and after we can make your grandma’s homemade apple pie recipe.”

“What are we going to make for dinner?” you smiled. “Mac and cheese? Winchester surprise?”

“I was thinking I could make your favourite chicken with some mac and cheese,” he said with a smirk.

“You know I can’t resist that,” you squinted at him.

“I know. That’s why I’m making it. You gotta come out of this room and you’ve gotta eat something that’s not dried cereal or leftover beef jerky from our road trip nearly two months ago.”

“You’re making me sound like I have a problem,” you giggled.

“You do. It’s called being overworked,” he chuckled. “Kitchen. Now. Then I need you to watch a short movie with me. Give yourself a break. After that, we can kiss a little and I will help you study for however long tonight,” he declared proudly, looking at you with a sweet smile

“Okay. We’ll go with your plan, chief,” you said with a weak smile. “You win this time. You had me at kissing you.”

“Let’s go.”

The second you got to the kitchen, you felt guilty for not having your books in front of you. The worry of not passing this final was really starting to get to you. You knew Dean was right; that you needed a study break because nothing was going to stick if you kept trying to cram it in. He offered to help you later, and you prayed to god that it would stick in better.

Dean had the pasta noodles on, and the chicken already in the oven, like he was planning this all along. All that was left was to grate the cheese, and he was already halfway done. You just got to sit there, and watch him do what he did best.

“When I was little,” you started, glancing up at Dean, “my mom tried to teach me how to bake. Red velvet cookies were what I wanted to make because I saw a picture in a recipe book one day. So she found one that would work and picked out an afternoon to do so. I thought it was going to be fun. You know, spending time with my mom, just the two of us. But I accidentally dropped an egg on the floor, and of course it broke. My mom was furious with me and sent me to my room for destroying her good kitchen floor. All because the egg slipped out of my hand and fell.”

“That is terrible,” Dean frowned. “Accidents happen all the time.”

“It was,” you nodded. “She came into my room hours later with a single cookie for me to eat. It was the first time I looked at something and felt like I didn’t deserve it.”

“Why are you telling me this?” He asked, turning to face you.

“Because I feel like I don’t deserve you sometimes. Especially on days like today when I’m cranky as hell, and not so fun to be around. You’re here making sure I eat and don’t overwork myself, and I don’t deserve to have someone as great as you in my life.”

“Yeah you do,” he argued with a smile playing on his lips. “You deserve to have someone looking out for you, Y/N. You do the same for me.”

“Well, I’m glad I’ve got you,” you smiled.

“Likewise,” he smiled softly. “When I was growing up, my dad was the one who taught me how to cook. He told me it was a valuable life skill that I would need one day. I was always taught that it wasn’t just a woman’s job to cook for the family. I don’t remember a whole lot of my parents together. I was four when she died. But what I do remember is that they were happy together, and I wanted to have that one day.”

“Do you still want that?” you asked him.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I’ve got you. I know my parents loved each other. Even if I remember them arguing, and such. I asked my dad about her from time to time, and he always talked about her with that same look on his face that he had when he saw her. Their love was something real. That’s what I want.”

“The real thing,” you teased. “Growing up, my dad was my best friend. He had this big office in our house that no one was allowed in but me. He had a chair in there for me, and a computer there for me to do work at one end of his desk. It was our space that my mom couldn’t enter. It was a safe place for me. His Sunday’s were spent playing golf, away from my mom. Those were supposed to be the days I spent with her but she never wanted to. She had her girlfriends over for drinks and I’d be shoved into my bedroom, away from everyone and everything. My parents never spent any time together when I was growing up. My dad travelled during the week for work. I spent Saturdays with him. The more I think about it now, I wonder why they waited until I was twelve to get divorced. They were never happy together.”

“That’s not fair to you,” he commented.

“No it’s not. It’s like some sort of arrangement for them, I think,” you agreed. “You want what your parents had, and I want anything but what my parents have. How strange is that?”

“Have you ever gotten along with your mom?” Dean questioned as he poured the cheese into the noodles. “I know Ketch said to you at the diner that night that your mom loved him more than she did you. Is that true?”

“Unfortunately yes,” you shrugged. “And for the longest time, that was so hard for me. I mean, my mom loved my boyfriend more than she loved me, and I was her daughter. God, my mom was more excited when she found out I was going out with Ketch than I was. Sure, his family is the richest, and their house is a million times bigger than this. Ketch literally doesn’t need a college degree for crying out loud. It’s not like we ever struggled with money. I mean my dad still makes amazing money and he bought this house for me so I wouldn’t have to stay with my mom while I went to school.”

“He’s got connections to everything and your mom liked that huh?”

“It made her look good. It was good for the parties and for all the people at the country clubs. It’s like he’s fucking royalty or something,” you scoffed. “My mom didn’t want me to go to college at first, actually. That’s one of the reasons why I’m so late in graduating. I fought hard to go, and she would only let me go as far as here. My dad fought for me. He knew I wanted my own life. My mom was determined. A girl like me shouldn’t have to work hard for one. The job at the hospital was hard enough work. At one point, she even told me I wasn’t smart enough to get in, which was untrue. It’s just not me. I can’t just sit somewhere and have everything done for me. I’ve never been that way, even if my mom tried to raise me that way. It wasn’t right. I think she thought that Ketch was going to turn me into someone that she’d approve of. A housewife. Someone like her.”

“I could never see you sitting back and doing nothing,” he chuckled. “You work harder than a lot of people.”

“Thanks, Dean,” you grinned. “I’m at the point where I’m trying not to care about her. I don’t answer my mom’s texts anymore. Her calls are ignored. I’m done dealing with it all. All it ever does is upset me and I’m tired of putting myself in that position. I gotta move past it all.”

“Good for you, sweetheart,” he nudged your shoulder. “You graduate in June right?”

“Maybe! If I pass this final and all my classes next semester, then yes,” you let out a dry laugh.

“You will,” he reassured you. “You’ll get home tomorrow feeling relieved that it’s over with and that you aced it. I’ll pick up some pizza and beer on the way home, and we’ll celebrate.”

“And I can pick the movie?” you asked with a wide smile.

“‘Course you can,” he winked.

You and Dean ate dinner with a constant flow of conversation. For the first time all day, you felt relaxed, and you knew that was going to do your brain some good. When you were to go back to studying, there was a good chance you were going to retain more than you could before.

Dean was the first one to finish, and he instantly started on the dishes. You couldn’t help but watch him as he worked. His muscles flexed beneath his shirt every so often. It had been a whole two months since you had slept with him that night, and the morning after. Your feelings had only grown stronger for him. You were taking it slow, enjoying the ride as you went on. Since you already lived together, you kept the sleepovers until Friday and Saturday nights. You didn’t want to rush this and ruin things. You wanted to still have that friendship between you. It was the most important thing to you.

You were slowly but surely moving past the whole, not good enough for him thing. There were still days when you felt like you weren’t good enough for him, and that was normal. Most of the time, he was the one who made you feel like you were. He was always making sure you knew that you were doing good, especially in the moments when you felt like you weren’t. There wasn’t a single doubt in your mind that you weren’t head over heels for him. This had the potential to become what his parents had. This had the potential to be something amazing.

You got up from the counter, placing your utensils in the sink and your plate on top of his. You reached for the towel, taking the first mug out of the sink, drying it off. Dean gave you a soft smile before returning back to what he was doing. Your heart began to race in your chest.

You wondered exactly what was going through his mind. If he was thinking about dinner, or anything else in specific. You wondered if he looked at you and thought the same thing you did when you looked at him. If he thought you were beautiful. If he thought he was lucky to have someone like you in his life. It was the little things.

There was a part of you that wanted to tell him that you loved him. You knew it wouldn’t be the worst thing to say, especially with how long he had been in your life. But at the same time, you were always the one who expressed how you felt first and that never worked out for you in the end. It was fear this time around. You didn’t want to push it so far only to have it crash and burn in the end. Dean was all you had at this point. You could wait. You could wait a lifetime for him. He was worth it.

“Pie time?” he chuckled, pulling the apples out of the fridge. A few weeks ago, you had decided to go apple picking one Sunday. He remembered the day you met him that you mentioned something about your grandma’s recipe needing fresh autumn apples. He thought it would be a good date idea for the two of you and it was. It was one of the memories you think about that makes you smile.

“Pie time,” you nodded.

You opened up the cupboard, grabbing your book of recipes. Dean was already pulling out everything you needed from the fridge. You stifled your laugh, knowing just how excited he was for this. Quite frankly you were too. He was like a kid when he was excited and you loved that about him.

He peeled and cut the apples while you made the pie crust. You worked side by side, bumping into one another a few times while you worked. You tried your hardest to focus on the pie in front of you, but when he stood so close, you couldn’t help but look over.

“You’re cute,” he muttered, taking a slice of apple, bringing it up to his lips.

“You’re cute,” you smiled, taking a bit of flour before flicking him. The white dust covering part of his shirt and his cheeks.

“You’re going to pay for that,” he threatened with a laugh, placing his hand in the flour before rubbing your face. “Much better.”

“Dean!” you shrieked, letting out a laugh. You smirked, inching closer to him, wiping your cheek on his shirt. He gasped, laughing in the process. “Okay, I actually have to finish this if you want to eat this tonight.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, flicking you once more before getting back to work.

You managed to get everything ready within half an hour. Dean added a lot of apples into the pie, and extra cinnamon. You smiled when he helped you with the top of the pie, patting it down with you. Your hands brushing against one anothers every so often. He took it when it was done, and put it in the oven for you. You were really looking forward to tasting it after this.

His hands made their way to your hips, backing you up to the opposite counter until you hit it. He lifted you up quickly, his body settling between your legs before his lips were on yours. His kisses started off slow and soft; chaste. Moving in a perfect sync with yours as his large hands travelled over the length of your back. You melted against him, allowing yourself to enjoy being with him like this. It was really nice to have a boyfriend that wanted to kiss you the way he did on a constant basis.

“You want to watch a movie, or a few episodes of Dr Sexy? You’re nearly caught up,” he pointed out as he placed a slice of pie on your plate. “Fuck, this pie is amazing.”

“Dr Sexy!” you stated. “Gotta see if Dr Sexy and Dr Tara get together. I’m glad you like the pie.”

“I love how into this show you are,” he let out a laugh.

“This is your fault,” you side eyed him. “I wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for you.”

“Hey, this is on you too. I had no idea you had a medical kink,” he winked.

“So do you, Winchester,” you teased. “You and I both know if I dressed as a nurse, you’d have a field day.”

“There is no denying that,” he shrugged. “You’d make such a hot nurse.”

Dean pulled it up on the tv as you sat down in your designated spot. Right next to Dean. It was one of your favourite parts of movie nights. He’d always end up playing with your hair while the movie ended, and you soaked up every second of the attention he was giving you.

“Can I ask you something?” Dean asked about halfway through the episode.

“You just did,” you turned to face him with a wide smile. “What’s up?”

“What’s the plan after you graduate?”

“Honestly, I’m not entirely sure yet,” you answered. “I have lots of options, and I think that’s what matters the most.”

“Which one sounds the best?” he questioned.

“Teacher’s college,” you breathed out. “The one my mom would hate the most.”

“For that reason?”

“That’s a bonus,” you chuckled. “But I think I could make a good career as a teacher.”

“My mom was a kindergarten teacher,” he revealed, giving you a soft smile. “I think that would be an amazing career path for you. You know I’ll support you in anything you want to do.”

“Thank you,” you smiled. “I have to apply at the end of January, so I still have time. But it’s definitely something I’ve thought about for a little while now.”

“You’re good at helping people. I’ve learned so many things from you,” he added. “You’d make an amazing teacher.”

The episode finished, and you needed to get back to studying. You couldn’t relax any longer. You needed to get these last few things down before you could go to bed. You flopped down on your bed, opening up your notebook. Dean was in not long after you with two mugs of peppermint tea. You knew that there was nowhere he’d rather be than here with you, making sure you got this material down.

It was around midnight when you packed it all up and crawled into bed. Your eyes were drooping, and words started to blend together. You studied the best you could and you felt a million times better than you did earlier. Dean helped you get down the last eighteen definitions and you had memorized the processes you needed to. You have this final in the bag.

Dean left your room to go lock up the house, something he did nightly for you. You flicked your side light off before curling into your pillow. A few moments later, you felt your bed shift, the comforter moving just a little, before the bed dipped next to you. Dean was sleeping next to you tonight.

“Gonna sleep with you tonight,” he whispered, linking his pinky with yours.

“Good,” you muttered. “Night handsome.”

“Night sweetheart,” he mumbled, reaching over to place a kiss to your forehead.

------------------------------------

You walked through the front door with a smile playing on your lips. Friday were the best days. The start of the weekend. The best damn part of the week. You kicked your shoes off, heading straight for the kitchen with your bag in hand. You couldn’t wait to start the weekend off right with the man you loved.

“I’m home!” you called out.

“Hey beautiful,” a familiar voice filled your ears. Your smile only grew wider. Your eyes glanced over to the counter where he stood. The sleeves of his flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows, revealing his strong, toned forearms that drove you crazy.

“Hey sexy,” you winked at him. “How was your day?”

“Great. Bobby gave me a raise today,” he revealed. “He said I had been working really hard the last few months and it’s paying off.”

“Dean! That’s amazing,” you grinned widely, dropping your bag to the ground. You circled the counter quickly, reaching Dean in an instant. You stood on your tiptoes, your lips crashing to his, kissing him hard as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” he smiled, licking his bottom lip. “You’re my rock.”

“And you’re mine,” you whispered, reaching up to kiss him once more.

“How was your day, sweetheart?” he asked, tugging you in close to him.

“Good. No tears today. No parents to call. And it’s Friday,” you chuckled. “Today’s a good day.”

“How’s our baby girl?” he questioned. His right hand slipped from the small of your back to your growing bump.

“Why don’t you ask her?”

Dean kneeled down to your stomach, pressing his lips to the bump. His hand held either side of your stomach. It had to be the best thing you had seen and he did it over and over again. She already had her daddy wrapped around her tiny little finger. She was going to be a daddy’s girl for sure. This was exactly what you wanted.

“Hey baby girl,” he said softly. “You being good for your mom in there? Not kicking her insides too much?”

“Not today,” you whispered.

“I love you, peanut,” he muttered, pressing another kiss to your stomach. “And I love you, sweetheart.”

“Not as much as we love you,” you smiled.

---------------

You shot right up, your eyes opening widely. Your heart was pounding in your chest. You swallowed hard, realizing that it was just a dream and it was the middle of the night. Dean was still fast asleep, facing your direction.

For a moment, it actually felt real. It actually felt like you and Dean were going to end up together, and you were having a baby together. It actually looked like life was looking good for the two of you. God, the way he kissed your stomach. Ugh, and the way he kissed you. It was everything you wanted and more. It was everything you wanted with the person you loved.

“You okay?” Dean breathed out, shifting a little. He never even opened his eyes.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

“Bad dream?” He asked you, popping one eye open.

“No. Good dream. Best dream I’ve had in awhile. I’m just sad it came to an end,” you admitted.

“Dr Sexy?”

“Something better,” you rolled your eyes. “I’ll tell you some other time.”

“What if you forget?” He cocked his eyebrow with his one eye still open.

“Trust me. I will never forget this dream.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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whitherliliesbloom · 4 years ago

Text

eyes fixed upon a shiny ray

[ ffxivwrite2021 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #24 - illustrious ]

[ alphinaud/wol ] ★ [ 2,858 words ] ★ [ aetherweave au ]

witch / wizard academy au i’ve never written for. features mintdrop’s totomi and windupdragoon’s kirishimi. mentions heirsofdiscord’s moth’ir, ancientecho’s laurelis, peachteaoni’s lily and windupnamazu’s lunya.

illustrious- famous, well respected, and admired

asking the star student of the most prestigious magic academy in eorzea out to the end of year prom is as daunting as it sounds

“Gods, sulk all you want, but can you at least stop pacing? You’re making me dizzy.” Alisaie sighs heavily, resisting the urge to yell only because she knew full well that her voice would echo through the halls at lightning speed, and she’s already been reprimanded for noise disruptions one too many times in the past now.

Where she sat atop the wooden desk, she glared down at her twin, who has been walking laps around the back of the classroom with his hands plastered upon his chin for the past 10 minutes now. Alisaie had hoped to spend her free period practicing Blitz Ball, but it would seem that her brother and practically the rest of the academy was far more hung up about the upcoming end of year promenade dance, and she’s close to getting sick of all the endless chatter about who everyone was going to ask out as their dance partner.

The young witch in training had about just the same amount of interest in her brother’s love life as she did history of the arcane arts, which is to say none at all. But family is family... and if Alphinaud failed in his endeavor to ask out the girl he’s had his eyes set on for the past year now, she will never hear the end of his relentless mutters.

“Just ask her directly. It’s not that hard is it?” Thancred thinks to chime in from two desks away, fiddling with his jet black wand.

And though Alisaie wholeheartedly agrees with Thancred’s assessment, she cannot bring herself to pass up the opportunity to call him out either.

“Hah, like you’re one to talk. How long again did it take for you to ask out Moth’ir? And you’ve known for what, almost your entire life now?”

Light banter and friendly, healthy amounts of spite is normal among their group, and Thancred seems to be unaffected by Alisaie’s words as he throws his hand up and shrugs with an unapologetic smile.

Alphinaud doesn’t stop pacing - not until he feels a light zap of lightning strike his bare hand and jolt him out of his focus, his head turned up to look at the wide chesire grin of the transfer student who twirled his leopard patterned wand between his index and middle finger playfully. Internally, Alisaie thanks the high heavens.

“Hien!” Alphinaud’s voice is a mixture of accusatory, confused and startled, and the raven haired student could only let out a hearty laugh before leaning himself back against the wall.

“Relax! A little jolt won’t kill you.” Hien begins waving his wand recklessly in the air, no doubt asking for reprimand if a teacher were present. “Anyways.. Who’s the lucky girl who’s caught the eye of our Alphinaud here? Must be someone quite special for him to be so nervous.”

Everyone’s eyes collectively widen, now fixed upon Hien as Thancred opts to answer on behalf of his friend.

“You don’t know? It’s Illya. It’s always been Illya.”

“Mm... Sorry, the name doesn’t ring any bells.”

The silence lingers a little longer now, as the other three exchange wide eyed glances of shock between them.

“Y-you.. you don’t know Illya?” Alphinaud sounds utterly taken aback, and Alisaie almost speaks up to remind him that not everyone would be as enamored with the star student of Aetherweave as he is.

“The little witch of a thousand miracles? Lady of the endless garden? The viola nebula? The star blossom? The tamer of the beasts? The one who pulls down the stars and wears them under her hat?” As he listed off the top of his head some of the most famous titles that had belonged to the object of his infatuations, Hien could only hum softly in thought as a response.

“I’ve heard of a few of those titles... I didn’t think they were all referring to the same person, however. Just how many names does she go by?”

Had it been anybody else, Alisaie would have probably accuse them for living under a rock - because anyone who has studied at Aetherweave academy would certainly not go long without hearing of Illya’s name. She didn’t know a single person in the academy who has not heard of at least one of the girl’s heroic exploits with her friends.

Hien however was a transfer student, one who came from a sister academy back in the Far East only a few months ago, and despite having settled into his new surroundings comfortably, is still not entirely aware of all the gossip and rumors that run rampant in the magical halls of Aetherweave.

“More like.. what name doesn’t she go by.” Alisaie’s shoulder rises and falls. “Have you heard of what happened just three months ago? About the Guardian Tree at Everschade?”

“That rings a bell. It was in the process of dying but somehow magically got rejuvenated and started to bloom purple flowers, didn’t it?”

“That was her doing.”

Now, Hien’s eyes are wide in surprise, letting out an elongated whistle as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“By the kami...”

“She was also one of the few students in the academy to have not only met but also tamed a wild wyrm. They say her new dragon friend, Midgardsormr is sitting right in her backyard.” Alphinaud adds, “Her friends and her were also the ones who were at the front of the charge in the winter of last year, defending the school when there was a surge of Sineaters coming from Lakeland.” His hand rises up to hold his chin. “Not to mention, she’s a top student. She’s consistently been in the top 5 of our year when it comes to grades. And her command over magic is praised even by grandfather himself.”

Praise coming from Archon Louisoix himself? That certainly is something worth prestige and recognition. Rightfully impressed now, Hien’s lips turn upwards into smirk as he turns to look back at the boy.

“Well, I can see why you’d like her. What’s the problem then, friend? Is she not easy to get along with?”

At Hien’s suggestion, Alphinaud quickly shakes his head.

“Oh, no, she’s not like that. She’s very approachable. Perhaps a bit...shy, and not very good at speaking to strangers at all, but she’s a wonderful person. Perhaps... a bit too nice, is all.”

With his response, Alphianud drops his head with a heavy sigh and casts his glance downwards onto the floor in exasperation, and it prompts Hien to hold back any further questions. He merely turns to look at Alisaie and Thancred, who can only frown and shrug respectively in silence.

It wasn’t that Alphinaud hasn’t tried to ask the girl out - he’s been trying to for months now, well before even the details of the promenade dance had been released and he saw it as a good opportunity to finally ask the girl out to be his dance partner.

He’s tried many times, and failed spectacularly an equal amount.

Perhaps as a result of her kindness, Illya has found herself surrounded by a group of other equally individualistic and unique friends who, in one way or another, has interrupted Alphinaud’s attempts to ask her out at least once.

He remembers Illya’s best friend, Laurelis, a joyful miqo’te girl who was well aware of his affections for her friend and is even the most enthused out of all of Illya’s circle about helping them get together... but has also unknowingly sabotaged his attempt to ask the girl out to movie date when she’d pulled Illya to town right after school for an impromptu shopping trip.

Lunya, a sharp-tongued girl who had been in a different class from Illya had been ecstatic to find that her friend, who she would not normally get much time to study with, had opted to take the same astrology and fortune telling electives as her. And for the three months that they had been together, she would always swiftly pull Illya away from him with a protective glare.

And Lily, who studied in the year above them and was close and dating Illya’s pseudo big-brother figure, had busied Illya with the task of tutoring her after class on how to become better at healing magicks, an endeavor that took up almost all of Illya’s spare time and he could not in good conscious ask her to abandon her close friend’s heartfelt request - especially after learning that her wish to become better at healing stemmed from an accident that Kaye had almost sustained a fatal wound for during last year’s battle against the Sineaters.

He can no longer keep track of the number of times he’d failed in his attempts, let alone take into account his own confidence beginning to waver... but the two golden foil tickets and a pressed lily in his pocket weighs heavy, and as Tataru and Krile had so eloquently egged him on and warned him, he might not get another chance ever again if he missed this one.

“OI! HIEN!” A loud, boisterous voice calls out, and a loud thud and an ‘oof’ from Hien sounds out, followed by a breathless chuckle as he shakes the woman who had tackled him against the wall off himself.

“Kiri, your greetings are enthusiastic as ever, but we’re in the middle of something now.”

“Huh?” Mismatched eyes finally turn to look at the twins and Thancred, and she lets out a nonchalant shrug. “Oh. Uh, sorry I guess. I can leave ya guys to it then.”

“No, it’s quite alright, Kirishimi.” Alphinaud smiles warmly at his senior, the tone of his voice amiable as ever. “We weren’t talking about anything important.”

“I didn’t know you considered you not being able to ask Illya out to prom as being unimportant.” His twin sister snickers, and Alphinaud bites back an aggrieved huff.

“Alisaie-”

“Illya?” Kirishimi’s expression lights up, ears perking as she places her hands upon her hips and gestures towards the direction of the front entrance of the school. “Speakin’ of her, I think she’s leavin’ to go on a date with someone. I saw them going down the stairs after I passed by her classroom and they were talking about uh... ‘desserts’ or something.”

“W-What? A date?” There’s panic evident in her voice, normally already fair complexion on the elezen boy rapidly paling now as he takes a step towards the taller woman. “Is...Isn’t it still in the middle of the school period?? They can’t possibly-”

“Town’s only a few minutes walk away though?” Kiri retorts with a shrug, “They’ll have plenty of time before the next module an hour later... and maybe they’ll even have time enough to work in a kiss or somethin’-”

“I-I... I have to-” Before even hearing the rest of Kirishimi’s sentence, Alphinaud finds himself bolting out of the classroom door and down the hallway towards winding flights of stairs and talking paintings, who chime out in surprise and ask a collective series of ‘where are you going?’ which goes unanswered.

Thancred turns to look at Kiri, a suspicious glint in his eye as he quirks an eyebrow out.

“She’s not really going on a date, is she?”

Kiri merely shrugs, a mischievious smirk plastered on her face as Hien wraps a proud arm around her shoulder, an equally triumphant grin upon his face.

----------------------

By the time Alphinaud’s found himself past a few feet in front of the building, and sees a familiar curtain of swaying white hair and a tall witch hat crowned upon it walking towards the fountain in the middle of the academy square and towards the front gates of Aetherweave, he’s already rapidly short of breath and found his legs aching, his lungs gasping and burning desperately for air.

But he doesn’t allow himself to stop- cannot allow himself to stop as he swallows back the lump in his throat and continues sprinting forwards, his voice calling out to her loudly from across the pathway.

“Illya! Illya wait!”

He thanks the twelve when he sees the lalafellin girl stop in her tracks and turn around with a bewildered expression, her companion beside her equally startled and stopping next to her as well - though he pays no mind to them... cannot bring himself to exert enough energy to focus on anyone other than Illya.

It isn’t until he gets closer to the pair, sweat trickling down his brow, his chest heaving as he pants for air heavily and his hands gripping onto his knees as he lurches forward does he finally recognize just who the mysterious student that Illya has decided to go on a ‘date’ with.

“W-wait.... wait a minute..” Alphinaud mutters in between huffs and sharp inhales, navy blue eyes staring down at a lalafellin with familiar straight cut bangs and ruby red eyes. “M-m.... Mint?!”

Mint.... is Illya’s date? The genki self-proclaimed witch idol peppermint?? Who also happens to be dating his friend Estinien??? She’s who Kirishimi tricked him into thinking was Illya’s date?!

“Whaddya want Alphinaud??” Peppermint lets out a huff and a pout, seemingly unconcerned at his haggard state as she crosses her arms over her chests. “Illya promised to get cream puffs with me during our break time. If you wanna have some, you’ll have to get in line!”

“W-what...? That’s not...”

Twelve forfend... He’s been deceived utterly and completely... He’d like to think he would be a bit more perceptive and intuitive enough to know when he’s being lied to or played but... it would seem like all sense of rationality of his flies out the window when it comes to Illya.

The girl in question merely gazes up at him with concern swirling in her lustrous violet eyes as she tightens her hold on the book she had been holding close to her chest.

“A-are you okay, Alphinaud?”

The worry in Illya’s voice urges Alphinaud to quickly swallow and give her a nod, a reassuring smile gracing his features despite his drained complexion.

“I’m... I’m quite alright. Thank you, Illya.”

His heart skips a beat when his smile is mirrored by her, and the radiance of her presence is almost enough to leave him dumb and speechless until she speaks up once more to question him.

“Did you need something from me? You seemed like you were in a hurry-”

Oh seven hells... how is he going to explain his way out of this now? He could make perfectly reasonable and well timed excuses for his other failed attempts... and he could just as easily lie to her and say that it was nothing now...

But he knows not only would that arouse suspicion, especially with someone as perceptive to people’s lies and intentions as Illya was... but it’d perhaps put her on edge around him in the future.

And though he’d have liked to invite Illya to prom in private and free of an audience member consisting of someone from her circle of friends, he’s already made a right fool of himself and caused a scene between them.... So to hide away or run from the situation would be...

With a defeated sigh, Alphinaud fishes out one of the tickets from his uniform pocket and holds it out to the girl with trembling fingers, watching in anticipation as her own starspangled eyes widen in shock.

“I-I.... I just wanted to ask... If you would perhaps like to go to prom with me?”

The normally talkative Mint is now completely silent, holding back impish cheers and laughter as she merely steps back to pump her fist in the air, leaving Illya on her lonesome as a heat quickly spreads across the girl’s fair cheeks and reddens the bridge of her nose.

It doesn’t take much thought at all for Illya to raise a hand up to take the ticket from him, gazing down thoughtfully at the reflective golden foil and the silver letterings etched into the shimmering surface until she finally remembers to nod in answer.

“Um... Y-yes... I would love to-”

---------

Illya is grateful that nobody else other than Mint had been around to bear witness to what happened, or she’d be certain that the whole school would be privvy to the gossip before sundown.

Mint’s teasing and chattering is enough on it’s own to deal with, as the girl cheerily munches into her cream puff and speaks in a hushed tone to the violet eyed girl on the other side of the table.

“I’m so glad for you, Illya! Now you don’t have to worry at all!”

“Y-yeah... I-I suppose so..” The heat from Illya’s cheeks hasn’t dissipated, and she stares into the reflection of the warm milk tea in her hands. “B-but.. what am I supposed to do with the love letter? I’ve been working on it for weeks and now-”

Mint pauses for a moment, cheeks puffed up and full of food as she continues to chew and darts her eyes up to the white ceiling in thought.

“Hm... Well you can still give it to him! Maybe during the prom or something? I’m sure he’ll appreciate it very much!”

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #kiwisffxivwrite2021 #alphinaud leveilleur #alphinaud #illya skawi #peppermint #kirishimi #fanfic #mine #aetherweave academy au #OH LOOK A FILL FOR AN AU I'VE BARELY TALKED ABOUT AGAIN #we've come so far #the title is lyrics from shiny ray by yurika!#which is little witch academia's OP

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