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#these two are both so fun and so aggravating to draw

himbo-in-limbo · 7 months

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Now this is probably just because I’m a huge simp for Monty, but while I do think he’s lazy with aftercare, I do think he’d snuggle you. But that’s about it. And not just because he’s lazy. He’s also just a little stupid and doesn’t know what to do 😭

Now, since I rambled about Bonnie and Monty, and you rambled about Freddy and Bonnie, I’ll ramble about Freddy and Monty. And maybe another little surprise!

Now Freddy and Monty are both himbos. So two sides of the same coin. In other words, Freddy’s so sweet and gentle and telling Monty to be gentle with you. Not like Monty listens, so maybe. Jusssst maybe, Freddy gets aggravated and starts dominating Monty. Like we’ve established, Freddy doms brats. Monty is a brat. You see me?

And maybe you also get a bit of fun with Monty!

And then there’s after. Where he gets his revenge. Yeah you and Freddy are both gonna get a bit roughed up. Just imagine Monty dominating you while Freddy watches. I can just imagine all the dirty talk Monty says. Especially if this is a situation where you’re in a poly with Fronnie (Obvi with both Freddy and Bonnie being okay with this… okay not alright with it, but they both said you could smash Monty.) and Monty stroking his own ego and degrading you while Freddy just watches, knowing Monty’s about to do the same to him after.

I said I’d give you a surprise so here it is! Glamrock Foxy. Except I’m not mentioning bottom Foxy cause I do not hc that Foxy is ever a bottom. At most he’s a sub top.

So. He’s a half time cowboy half time pirate. According to SB and RUIN anyways…

Pirate Foxy: Definitely into knifeplay with his hook, teeth, claws, maybe a sword if he’s feeling extra frisky. And also, hammock. I’ve never banged in a hammock (Actually I’ve never.. actually banged. Irl. Just in fan fic and my imagination. Yknow that’s kinda weird cause I’m represented as a cro-) but Foxy definitely would smash you in his.

Cowboy Foxy: COWBOYS HAVE BIG DIC- ahem. So cowboys use rope is what I meant to say. (Unrelated but I find it extra hot to see Freddy all tied up in wires. Like imagine he went to go fix something and accidentally got all tied up in the wires and you just find him.) So Foxy ties you up. Anyways, milks you like a cow JSNAJKDJDN BYE

-🐦‍⬛

TW SPICY TOPICS N RAUNCHY SUBJECTS 🔥KIDDIES BE GONE!!!

I think I’ve finally perfected the way I will draw Monty….(hopefully)

Anyways, yes 100% these two would only (in my opinion) hate boink each other bc theys got tension (it also happened to be sexual tension…) I feel so sorry for Freddie bc 😭 Monty would be giving him such a hard time (in more than one way 😏)

And he’d DEFINITELY hog you like expect to get topped by Monty the most bc he’s a greedy bastard. oh but the degrading remarks he’d make at Freddie…..oof they way Monty would make you beg for HIM instead of Freddie and like you said that’d eventually piss off our Honeybear…if they start wrestling in bed I’m throwing money…

Uhhh…now for Foxy….honestly I don’t feel much for him LMAO not even enough like I do for Monty 💀💀💀 cute guy tho!

Maybe that’ll change if we get more lore about him? If he even is canon in SB (like yeah we see his old cardboard cutouts) but atm to me it looks like Foxy could have been Roxanne’s old model??? So she’s trans maybe?? If so good for her!! ♥️

#crow asks 🐦‍⬛#tw spicy #spicy writing #spicy talk #limbo writes #my art #digital art #digital illustration #original design #blog ask #blog stuff #fanart #fan service #glamrock foxy #glamrock freddy #montgomery gator #monteddy

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angelsleepinggurl · 3 months

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𝐒𝟏:𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟏𝟕

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Valentines Day. The traditional day of love. Where all couples display their love for each other and settle in each other's affection, walking to the office in the morning, you notice how the day just seems generally different. The sky is clearer, more smiles on the street and an overall warmth emits from everyone’s hearts.

And in the workplace, you notice the spruce up in the place. An arrangement of heart-shaped balloons in the corners, and a small amount of red heart-shaped confetti littering the office floor. The smell of roses is prevalent too. Loud voices from the counter draw your attention to the bickering best friends. The reception desk is filled with Valentine’s Day cards and a box of chocolate. The two of them are currently fighting whilst trying to not knock over the decorations around them and cause mayhem.

“You’re just jealous I got flowers and you didn’t aren’t you?” Annalise teases, standing on her tiptoes and placing her hand on Darios’s face, pushing him away.

“Oh please, as if I would be jealous of you.” He shouts trying to pull her arm away from his face.

“Oh hey Y/N.” Annalise greets once she falls back into her chair “Look at these flowers I got, aren’t they prettyyy?” She asks sneaking a smirk towards Darios who huffs and slumps back into his chair.

My fingertips reach to graze the soft pink petals of a tulip, watching it sink slightly once I retract my hand. “They’re so pretty who got them for you.”

She bursts into a cheeky smile, gently twisting her seat around, “Oh you know, just someone. Someone special.”

“The guy met you this morning and practically begged you to play along with his bit.” Darios’s explains, aggravated.

“What bit?” You ask.

“He wanted to make it look like he had a Valentine in front of his ex and promised to buy her the flowers if she played along.” He explains to which Annalise sneers at him.

“It wasn’t like that, he wanted me to be his Valentine for real.”

“Whatever floats your boat darling.” Darios says twirling away from her.

“Why you-“

“We’ll you love birds have fun I gotta get to work.” You say with a mouth full of the desk chocolate, giggling to yourself when you hear the both of them explode with, “LOVEBIRDS?!UGH!”

Another Valentine's you've had to spend alone, it didn’t bother you that much a week ago but this week it’s a pressing matter to you. It bothers you how you don’t know why this year matters so much more either, you’ve had your years without a valentine. We’re not entirely alone, as you recall how Naaila put you on a blind date for tonight, one you’re convincing yourself to go to for Naaila’s sake.

As she said “I can’t stand to watch my best friend all alone on Valentine's.” from the other side of the couch hugging your pillows. A pout emphasised on her face as she said it.

“Do you think I should’ve rejected-”

“No.” Naaila interrupted you.

“You’re right I shouldn’t have, I’m gonna be so lonely tomorrow.” Earlier on in the night, you disclosed to Naaila about how Suguru Geto popped by your workplace offering to fill up your schedule on the 14th.” Now your pout is matching hers as you fiddle with the tassels of the pillow in your arms.

“Don’t be so downhearted,” your best friend perked up “I think… I think I could pull a couple strings for you.”

“Wait what.” Sure you were just complaining about not having a special someone to be with but that didn’t mean you wanted to spend the sacred day with a stranger you had never met before, that was half the reason why you rejected Geto. “ Wait Naaila no I was joking, I mean I have Gigi and you and-”

“Nuh-uh. I don’t wanna hear it. I’ve already got a guy who would be perfect for you.” she responded with a smirk on her face as she sprang up off the sofa.

“Well, can I at least know who he is?” You asked urgently. “What he looks like?” But to no avail, she still didn't respond. “His name?”

“No, you’ll find all of this out when he texts you.” She replied with a smirk and a wink before disappearing into the kitchen.

“It’s lovely to see you again Ieiri.” the brunette nods, her lips fumbling with the cigarette already between her lips as she looks out of the vast window wall. “How’s that job treating you?” Nanami asks, placing his hands firmly on the desk table. The brunette sighs before becoming much more lively.

“I hate it, but I’m good at it so shouldn't that count for something.” She responds. She lets the air hang with silence before she cracks with a small smile. “Look at you. All grown up and managing a whole company, you really are a big shot aren’t you Nanami?” The faintest and palest hue dusts Nanami’s cheeks at the recognition of his accomplishments. Nanami nods meekly and looks off to the side, not being used to this type of praise. Shoko takes in a large puff before speaking, “Since you're one of the people I actually like, what do you need from me?”

“I was wondering if you could help elevate my product’s publicity even more, you know as a PR Manager?”

“Even more? I’m trying to think of someone who isn’t waiting for your product launch.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It doesn’t mean I won’t do it though. How bout dinner after work? On me? To discuss the promotional strategies of whatever you big shots call it.” She offers, letting her wrist drop, bringing her lit cigarette closer to Nanami, the smell becoming overpowering and taking up the office in its entirety.

“Is that for me?” he asks.

“No never.”

1:48 is when you finally get a notification from your phone. It’s releasing relieving to be able to take a break.

+xxx-xxx-xxx

Hey it’s Chris. Naaila told me to text this number for the date tonight is that correct?

Oh. You weren’t really expecting Naaila to actually go through with this, or for her to find someone willing to do this, but people in predicaments such as yours aren't entirely uncommon.

“Hi I’m Y/N.This is the right number for the date.”

You reply.

“Pick u up at 8?”

“Sure. 8 sounds great.”

Why do I agree to these?

The afternoon sun falls and settles into a beautiful and ethereal landscape, like a canvas with splatters of watercolours across the evening sky. The air becomes colder as night approaches, and the constant draft coming in through your window causes you to jolt awake at your desk. 5:08. time to clock out. You gather your belongings and prepare your office for tomorrow morning. With a purse and coat in your hand, you’re ready to leave, that is until your boss swings your office door open.

“Eveing sir, i’m just about to head out. Is everything alright?” You ask him.

“About that,” the blonde starts, the areas under his eyes appearing much darker. “you may want to cancel all your plans, there's been an unexpected schedule pushback, and I have a meeting to get to, so if you could stay back that would be great.”

No that wouldn’t be fuckin great.

“Well Sir, I actually have somewhere to go right about now. Are you sure we can’t work on this tomorrow?” You ask him. To be honest, you don't want to give him an option he has to let you leave, like now. He can’t just spring up these unexpected plans on you, realistically they should be his issue, there’s only so much you’ve been assigned to do.

“No can do. I can’t forward this meeting. Just make sure everything in the email I sent you is completed before you leave. Have a nice night.” And with that the blond is gone with the wind, leaving you feeling used and humiliated. As a non-confrontational person, you’ll usually let most things go, but you won’t disrespect yourself this way. So you protest. You sit right back in the spinny chair and stare at your computer’s login screen for the next 10 minutes, ensuring Naanmi is gone.

Standing outside the pre-discussed spot, you look down the road, keeping your eye out for Chris’s car, yet still no sign. The wind rushes past your legs and up your dress, chilling your entire body. You stretch out your hands, to prevent your fingertips from catching cold. A familiar ping rings from your purse and your cold hands scramble to pick up the mobile device. It’s a message from Chris.

“sorry im stuck in traffic and idk when i’ll get there. go ahead and get inside so you don't freeze to death :).”

Leaving him on read, you immediately run into the warmth of the restaurant, being enveloped by the smell of top-notch dishes. You get comfortable in your booth, once the waiter asks for your reservation, propping up your coat beside you.

What should I order tonight, I'm absolutely starving- Nanami?

Alert and shocked from seeing your boss down the large restaurant, you hide yourself in the menu, slowly peering your head slightly over to get a peek. He’s wearing a pinstripe black suit, though his hair is still as slicked back as it is at work.

Who’s he making himself look all nice for?

Nanami props his other leg on his knee, checking his watch on his wrist before looking around displeased.

What a liar! He said that he was going to a meeting. Not a date!

You tut to yourself as you drop your menu and searched for your phone in your bag to see if No Show Chris has something to say, yet nothing.

Nanami doesn't seem like the type of person to have to wait for someone to arrive, he seems like the type of person where whoever he needs at his feet with the snap of a finger. His repeated frown and constant look around, as well as unnoticed leg bouncing, don’t get noticed by you.

“Would you like to order Ma’am?” A young waitress, hardly older than a teen pops out of nowhere, startling you enough to make you yelp. You look at her surprised before explaining that you're waiting on someone allegedly. To which she raises her eyebrows in an unsurprising manner as she walks away.

Your eyes travel, wander and land on an older couple not too far off from the centre of the room, just soaking up in each other’s admiration for each other. The lady trails her fingers up her lover’s arm as she intently listens to what he has to say; the man has the same if not a more love-struck expression imprinted on his face. Her chin is comfortable in her hand as it rests there, signalling that she has the whole night to sit and listen to all has to say.

I wish I had something like that.

Oh wait. I have my own date right now. A date who still hasn’t shown up.

“hey, i’m still at the restaurant btw.” you text him, wondering why he still hasn’t shown up. It’s been an hour and a half and you're still hungry.

“i didn’t rlly see you, im sorry for keeping you waiting. sorry for wasting your time.”

This definitely has to be one of the worst ways to celebrate Valentine's Day. Being stood up by a guy you don’t even want. It’s not like the guy who caused this got karma for it too, as a beautiful brunette girl walks up to him and engulfs him in a hug. You could've been stuffing your face full of pizza all snuggled up with Gigi. But that hasn’t happened. Instead, your night has gone to shits. Because of him. Kento Nanami. Mr All high and mighty.

I never wanna see him again. I hate him.

taglist: @kodzukenmaaa @markleeisdabestdrug

(please send a dm or comment on my the pinned blog to join. thanks)

#ao3 #a #personal assistant #angel #anime #nanami kento x reader #fanficwriter #fanfiction #fanfic #jjk anime #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jjk #nanami kento #kentoxreader #kento x reader #x reader #wattpad #nanami x reader

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neonjawbone · 11 months

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So, out of curiosity: as someone who's got a long-running web comic AND who's got a novel coming as well, have you found that your process for writing each are very different?

Are there things that are the same?

Did you find one easier than the other?

Did the type of media you were making influence the genre you chose to work with?

Sorry, just super curious since I haven't seen anyone do both before!

ooh!! I love this question!

Yes, I'd say, the process is very different! I've said this to a couple friends so far, but working in prose has been like reuniting with an old friend. Pretty common story, but I was a huge reader until sometime in college (around the time i got on social media and my adhd really took a nosedive), so actually writing (and by extension, trying to get back into reading) has been REALLY fun and interesting. My process for storytelling itself is really similar, but writing for comics can leave a lot up to the visuals. What the backgrounds look like, expressions and character acting, these are things i tend to leave to myself on the page. When you rely on them overmuch in prose, what you get is a kind of boring slog. Working in prose has lead me to try and write not how things *look* (as is my instinct coming from comics) but how they *feel*.

Furthermore, prose is such a different game. Idk how else to put it. The act of writing is so uniquely vulnerable, and while theres things I miss from comics (expressions being wayyyy up there) theres also so much cool shit you can only do in prose. Stuff like really getting into characters interiority, and through multiple pov characters painting different pictures of the world and your cast.

Prose is easier, bar none (okay, this is kind of incendiary) what I mean is, prose is less labor intensive. The act of creating/storytelling/art is still WORK. No matter how you're doing it. And certainly, sometimes I'll beat my head trying to convey something in prose that isn't like, boring. But I can bang out 1k-5k words in a day without aggravating my RSIs, it is not draining in the way that comics are, simply put, yeah. It's physically easier to type words (for me) than it is to draw a comic.

Example: Though I started work on my novel, OTAS, about a year and a half ago, maybe only 6-7 months were spent writing with any regularity (and even on writing days I was still able to do many other things!). The graphic novel I worked on, TPATPG (out in AUGUST!!) took two years of near constant, daily work which allotted a majority of my drawing energy..

Now, I don't think my influences have really changed so much, BUT I made a conscious effort to read prose books with more regularity since starting to incorporate fiction writing. I think it's very important to take in the media you want to work in!!

In conclusion, working in prose has been really fun, and I'm excited to do more of it!

#asks

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the-widow-sisters · 1 year

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Ok one more since I’m on a role.

Speaking of which..

“My life is like toilet paper” for Kate and Carol, since they both take crap from a certain blonde menace in their lives 💀😂

A/N: Thank you so much for this request, girl!!! As you know probably way too well, these two combined make up my whole personality 😂💞 I literally have so many facets of my personality that are similar to them, so it's super fun to write a fic where the two sides of myself coincide, lol 😂

Plus, if y'all have seen the Marvels teaser trailer and if you're as excited as me, please do refer to the list and send some requests for Monica and Carol or Kamala and Carol 😂💞💞💞 I'm seriously so hyped 😍

Feel free to send more requests from this list here with a platonic pair listed 🥰

Word Count: 1.7k+

“Did she have to learn how to use a sniper rifle and learn enough tinkering knowledge to put some kind of a powder grenade mod on it?” Carol complained aloud, looking at herself as she took in all of the many different colors covering her body at the moment.

Kate sighed deeply, shaking her head. She was honestly not sure what to say but she completely agreed with the sentiment behind Carol’s declaration.

Yelena had just ambushed them with a sniper rifle that she had somehow managed to rig so that it shot out hard little powder grenades that exploded and got some manner of random colored powders all over their victims. Carol and Kate had been walking back inside from a run that they had gone on together, and Yelena had taken her opportunity, obviously having been waiting for them to get back.

They were her two favorite people to aggravate—or in Carol’s case, try to aggravate— so she must have been bored while they were gone since Natasha was having to spend so much time in meetings for the past several months with the discovery and the rising of new heroes.

They had headed back so that they were at the front door of the compound at this point, trying to wrap up the last bits of removing the powder from their clothes and skin.

“Like did they consider their responsibility to the world as our fellow human beings when they created that monster?” Carol desperately demanded as she dusted off her pretty white sweatpants and the loose white tank top, and Kate shook her head tiredly.

“Y’know what I always say in times like these?” Kate finally asked as she dusted off bright blue powder from her sweatpants. Carol was dusting a purple mess off of her own, too, and she looked at her curiously as she spoke.

“What’s that?” Carol asked, offering her a brief onceover as she reached out to Kate’s arm and softly brushed the powder from her bare shoulder. Kate smiled briefly, gratefulness in her eyes as she looked at the older woman.

“My life’s like toilet paper. I’m either on a roll or taking crap from somebody,” Kate declared, and Carol let out a sharp bark of laughter, grinning widely.

“Oh, wow, that’s good! Can I use that?” Carol questioned, a laugh in her voice, and Kate nodded, puffing up a little as she smiled back at her.

She was proud that she had managed to draw a laugh from Carol. Granted, it was not an overly difficult task to make Carol laugh, but something about how happy and full it sounded when she actually offered a true, deep laugh was extremely gratifying.

“Man… This better come out of my clothes or I’m taking Yelena Bavarian on a shopping trip with her paying,” Carol threatened, and Kate furrowed her brow, gazing at her uncertainly.

“Yelena Bavarian?”

“I don’t know, it’s a new one. Her hair’s kind of colored like Bavarian cream,” Carol pointed out with a shrug, seemingly deciding to finally straighten and leave her clothes be for a bit. Kate huffed, following her lead.

“That’s pretty good. I’ve always just called her Yelena Banana,” Kate pointed out, and Carol snorted, surprise but also glee written on her face.

“Oh my— that’s even better,” Carol complimented.

They headed inside the compound, heading to the main room. Once they were there, Carol headed over to the couch somewhat tiredly, flopping down on it, and Kate followed suit, sitting down in the armchair sideways as she looped her legs over one arm and leaned back against the other.

Carol let out a deep, exhausted sigh, and Kate looked at her, sensing she was about to speak up again.

“So. Since we’re on the topic of our favorite little—”

“Absolute delight of a human being?” Kate deadpanned a little, allowing the sarcasm to shine through, and Carol smirked, nodding to her as she continued her statement from where she left off.

“That, I figured I’d ask you something if you’re up for answering,” Carol started, and Kate nodded, shrugging easily as she curiously looked at the older woman.

“Yeah. I’m always up for a question,” Kate shrugged, shifting a little in her seat so only one leg was looped over the arm of the chair and her back was resting against the back of the chair at an angle.

“Why do you let her push you around without actually getting back at her? You’ve had lots of opportunities, but you hardly ever actually take them,” Carol asked, tilting her head a little as she gazed back at her.

Kate thought about it for a moment, considering what she would say next before finally speaking up with a slow nod.

“Well, for two reasons I guess,” Kate finally stated. Carol whistled.

“Two? Wow, I wasn’t really expecting one at all,” Carol confessed, surprise written in her features, and Kate huffed. Carol must have thought that it was one of those subconscious things that Kate had not put much time into thinking through.

“You know me… Raising expectations one thing at a time,” Kate shrugged, laughing it off as she imagined all of the ways she had actually lowered expectations as opposed to raising them.

As much as she loathed to admit it, she knew that there was probably a reason that Yelena thought of changing the phrase screwing up to Kate Bishop-ing. Yelena, of course, did not mean anything seriously bad by it, but it was the truth unfortunately. Kate was far too awkward for it not to be.

“First, if I retaliate too much, I risk war and as you can tell by the sniper powder grenade rifle thing, no one stands a chance against Yelena in war unless it’s you or Natasha. And in terms of tactical advantage, only Natasha,” Kate explained, and Carol halfheartedly narrowed her eyes.

“I take offense to that,” Carol told her, but her tone was too lazy for her to truly be serious. Kate just grinned at her, but allowed her face to fall back to something a bit more neutral as she prepared to state her next reason.

“And it’s how she relates to me, I think,” Kate expressed, going on a more serious note, and Carol sobered a little as she looked at Kate and listened to her words.

Carol slowly nodded, understanding in her eyes as she spoke up in reply.

“Yeah, I can see that. That’s how she relates to me, too, I think,” Carol agreed, and Kate shook her head with a slight laugh.

“And then she’s really sweet at the weirdest of times,” Kate pointed out, and Carol chuckled.

“Yeah, I know. She hugged me for the first time the other day,” Carol huffed, and Kate’s eyes widened in shock.

“Already?!” Kate cried. Carol looked at her with some confusion.

“Well, she kind of hurt my feelings a while ago and she felt bad, I guess. I just never expected her to do that,” Carol raised her eyebrows, and Kate groaned, unable to help the smallest bit of jealousy and slight aggravation. Yelena really was a fickle creature.

“Gosh, you know how long it took me to get a hug from her?!” Kate complained, and Carol raised an eyebrow.

“What? When you got kidnapped a while back?” Carol laughed, obviously not really realizing that was truthfully the first time it happened. Kate nodded to her, and Carol’s smile quickly fell.

“Seriously?!” Carol gaped at her, and Kate nodded emphatically.

“Yeah! I mean, I think she thought I was getting between her and Natasha for a long time and when she finally realized that wasn’t what I was trying to do, we had to kind of go back to square one and build it from the ground up. But even then, she got fond of you super quick. So basically, what I’m saying is that you should feel really lucky,” Kate pointed out, grinning, and Carol shrugged, surprise in her gaze as she took it all in.

“I kind of thought that she was always fond of you, too, though,” Carol acknowledged, and Kate furrowed her brow.

“Why?” Kate could not help but laugh a little. “She’s always been picking on me and won’t hardly ever touch me like she does with you.”

“I don’t know. Like you said, her picking on you is showing that she cares, and the not touching you thing is probably just the dynamic you guys have in her eyes. She touches meaningfully when it matters. The reason she touches Natasha so much is because she was raised with her and probably because she sees her as the older sister figure and wants that I guess approval from her,” Carol told her, amazingly insightful into this entire thing. Of course, as Kate remembered, Carol had been a little sister once.

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience on that one,” Kate ventured softly, not pushing too far since she knew that was a sore spot. Carol moved her head in agreeance, a sadness slightly shining in her eyes before she moved on, trying to hide it.

“And she probably doesn’t wrestle with you like she does with me because she knows she could hurt you, and she doesn’t want that,” Carol explained, and Kate slowly nodded as she offered Carol a onceover.

“You really have a good handle on Yelena,” Kate commented, and Carol shrugged.

“Well, yeah. I guess we just kind of think a lot alike,” Carol admitted, and Kate huffed, smiling gently. Carol grinned a little in response, and Kate opened her mouth to speak.

However, just as she did, she heard a loud yell that sounded like it came from Yelena. Carol and Kate paused, turning in their seats to look in the direction of the noise. Yelena came practically leaping down the staircase, skipping steps as she tried to escape quickly. And right behind her was Natasha, aiming the powder grenade gun that she had made as she tried to land a hit on her younger sister.

They ran past without a word, Yelena somewhere between laughing and panting as she attempted to get away and an evil look in Natasha’s eyes.

Kate and Carol were dead silent for a few moments until they happened to make eye contact, and that was when they both burst into laughter.

Yelena was certainly one of a kind. But they wouldn’t have it any other way.

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nerice · 1 year

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"find the word" snippets round 2!! wahoo!!!

reasonable (eligray banter ft. whatever this implies abt worst man's idea of a fun pastime)

eliada stirs more sugar into a tea he no longer has any desire to drink. his story is much too reasonable to dismiss outright, but that does not mean he has to like it. an existence manifested in the cradle of creation, an existence come face to face with the elusive observer... that would make gray a true ruler. but he cannot be, he isn't, eliada would know. eliada is the only person in this thrice forsaken universe able to say so with certainty. the gold stitched into his spine shudders whenever reina and him have the misfortune of sharing the same physical space, but gray, as aggravating as he is, leaves that part of him cold. he has the sudden suspicion that he is being scammed. "you are certain of your immortality?" he asks. gray dismisses the idea with a wave of his scarred arm. "plenty."

extinct + threaten (this will not end badly, don't worry abt it :)!)

hunting shadows is meant to be more of a patrol situation; keep them out of the palace, keep them from wandering into the surrounding settlements, but cait hunts them with a ferocity. she hunts them for sport. venturing out erratically, drawing circles far and farther still until she finds a nest, or until one is dumb enough to mistake her for prey. her kills are always vicious, her chase relentless, as if she could actually drive them to extinction. all to draw out their leader, the scorpion that took her sister from her—unaware that maheloas is not a shadow at all, but a god—so it's no wonder sky tries to dissuade her from the path of revenge. maheloas may be less threatening than garvith or noah, as far as true ruler power levels go, but even with all her natural talent for swordsmanship, if cait were to ever track him down, she'd only get herself killed.

value (more early eligray content! just rail him on the couch its ok)

surely, if gray clothed himself in better suits than rags, he'd make a fine man. even a man someone such as eliada could fancy. but all of that is tangential, a temptation for when they share too deep a drink. now eliada only has eyes for his true interest: the conspicuous bracelet slipped from under gray's sleeve. it rises and falls with his sleeping breath, the shifting opalescence within the marbles following a stranger rhythm. he'd only seen it twice before; both times gray had quickly pushed it back under his sleeve. both times eliada's attention had been drawn, and both times this interest had set gray in a bad mood. it could be ornamental. it could but that's as unlikely as ever seeing this man in anything that could even loosely be termed an "outfit." no, gray does not value fashion and it follows that he does not wear this bracelet for vanity, either. which means there is a story. and any fragment of an existence as impossible as his is bound to be worth a little risk.

cunning (that one canon jumie/gray dance long before 🐇. :)))

"you two are close?" gray asks to divert her attention. "i pledged my life to her," jumeira says, using his moment of genuine surprise to overtake the dance, clasping his hand and locking him into her own interpretation of the rhythm. all faux seduction gone, she is clean, businesslike composure now as she measures him up, step by step by step. he recognizes a cunning in her that, for the first time this night, worries him. forget the soul-bound pup figuring him out, this woman is worse; a single exchange enough for her to glean the murderous impulses he has kept concealed all night, though she wouldn't know him as soulless even if she cracked him open with her bare hands.

priority (queen of (fucking up) everything 💔)

"i abandoned them. i was at the peak of my power, veiled, i did not feel pain—but i fled. because i could not bear the dead, thousands torn apart in a blink..." nerice was different. reina can barely stand to think its name. it was a different world, a different war. how tired she is of war. she was the beginning of this universe and she has yet to know peace, but now, as the last remnant of her world, she is azra's priority. now she can become a shield; do for these worlds what she couldn't do for her own: face azra, and fight.

relate (like f*ther like d**ghter moments <3. + throwback 2 their talk in lhnh)

gray's daughter has changed since the last time they met, in more ways than one. the bandaged sleeves replaced by long gloves over hard muscle, her once-pale hair now kept in tight braids pulled back and dyed a rusty black that absorbs the dim light of his study. "you associate with soulless, we both know that well enough," sky says, trailing the long edge of his drafting table with two fingers. eliada folds his hands in lieu of a smile. her threat has a familiar flavor of indifferent dominance. "they seem drawn to me," he muses. "a position you can surely relate to, rabbit." the mahogany beneath her fingers cracks. last time her birthname had sent her scrambling for the door, but that, too, has changed. she leans onto the table, the splintering around her fingers deliberate, controlled. annoyance flickers through eliada at the thought of having to patch those cracks after she leaves. "that dark hair can't mask the resemblance." "good," she snarls. "i'm not trying to." (((((a lie))))

adventure (the girls are not ok but once upon a time they were)

lucie remembers the attic with crystal clarity: derelict as the rest of the house, a simple mattress in the corner waiting for her whenever she escaped from the orphanage. avery in her hammock. avery with a foot flexed against the ground to keep herself steady while she aimed rubber bands at the rats infesting the woodwork. avery, head tilted back at the sound of her hasty ascent on the rusty ladder; brimming with excitement for the tales from lucie's latest dream, the next adventure they could replay.

&&& bonus 白花 adventure snippet under the cut due to #tw linn

linnea restrains her with a tight fist in her hair, pouring the liquid down faye's throat until she sputters and chokes, spits some of it back up at her. "vulgar," linnea remarks and shoves her back into the blankets. faye begins to stir beneath her, coming awake, aware as their skin contact draws on. as soon as linnea withdraws her touch, she curls back in on herself, panting and gasping. "not long now. soon you will forget everything, forget the pain," linnea hums as she lays out an assortment of pills in a neat line. pressed herbs, polychrome powders, dried fragments of mushroom. last, right by faye's twitching fingers, a small vial of fluorescent liquid, a syringe, and a tourniquet. "we are going to have an adventure."

CHEERS >:3c

#elia writes #long post /#love the trajectory of eliada / soulless content only to round out with worst girls lol #once again these have been insanely fun at this rate i will have cleaned up a good chunk of my content by the end of this year ww

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years

Text

Slytherin!Muggleborn X Draco Extensive Dating Headcanons

requested by the ever lovely @mimsyisgianna

A/n: Hi, this is super long and I’m in love with it.

oh this is going to be fun

As a muggle born you have absolutely no idea what’s going on

But you guess magic is cool? And your parents said that you don’t have to stay at Hogwarts if you’d rather a muggle school and forget all of the magic stuff

Which quells your anxiety a bit

Then there’s this asshole

Draco Lucius Malfoy: arrogant asshole extraordinaire, even as an eleven year old

You’re over his entire personality in about 0.2 seconds and you haven’t even talked to him yet

So maybe this magic thing wasn’t for you, because good god these purebloods are awful

Then you’re in the same House as Draco and you really just want to go home, but you decide you can try it for a semester and you shouldn’t let some prissy rich boy ruin your fun

Because, well magic is a lot of fun--and you’re pretty good at it

There are a few other half-bloods and muggle born in Slytherin, not many, but enough that you don’t feel alone

And maybe you become best friends with a muggle born hufflepuff who lives up the road from you back home

Draco, on the other hand, has made it his personal mission to make sure that you know you don’t belong at Hogwarts and you definitely don’t belong in Slytherin

he tells you as much. in so many words. in front of the entire great hall

You’re not hurt, you’re livid

“You know what you’re right!” You snap back, “I’d rather be anywhere but here with your vain racist arrogant ass!”

The entire Hall goes quiet and Snape breaks the two of you up

Now you both have detention together on Saturday

Draco yells something about his father hearing about this and you roll your eyes and go back to your dorm, dinner forgotten

Detention with Snape could be worse. All you’re doing it organizing potions ingredients onto the shelves

“That doesn’t go there,” You point to the misplaced vial of newt. “Yes it does,” Draco snaps, “Don’t tell me what to do little mudblood,”

“Don’t call me mudblood, asshole. Newt goes over there,” You point to a different shelf. “With the rest of the reptile related ingredients,”

You and Draco stare each other down, both convinced you’re right. You scoff and go back to your own ingredients letting him be wrong. It didn’t matter to you.

Draco would never admit that you were right. But you were.

You smirk at him when Snape points out the mistake

Since you’re Slytherin, it’s unavoidable that sometimes Draco is your partner in class

You mostly ignore him and try to focus on the professor, but sometimes he gets under your skin and you just want to deck him in his perfect face

“That’s not how...” “Good lord Draco how are you still alive...” Draco that’s not what the professor said...” “What in the world are you doing?” “I don’t think that’s how...” “He said 1354CE not 1435CE,”

“I don’t need a mudblood telling me what to do,” He always snaps.

“What about a Slytherin?” You fire back. He never has an answer to that.

It’s the end of first year and late one night after exams and you’re alone in the Common Room, staring at the murky lake water outside the stained glass, well almost alone.

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t hear him the first time he speaks to you

“Oi, Y/n,” He calls. It was the first time he ever used your name. It caught your attention.

“I’m not really in the mood,” You hug your knees barely glancing at him. “I’m sure Hermione is somewhere in a library if you want a mudblood to taunt.”

“I’m here as a Slytherin actually,” He leans against the wall adjacent to the window seat. “How were exams?”

You shrug. “Fine. I guess.” Sighing you rest your head against the wall, closing your eyes. “Mom thinks I should go back home... go to a normal--muggle,” You mend, “school, and give up all this magic stuff,”

“What?” He demands. “Why would you do something so... so stupid?”

This time you do look at him, confused. Sure, he had called you a lot of things and mocked you more times than you could count but they had always been about your blood status, never about you inkling to leave this magical world.

“It’s not stupid!” You argue back. “How--all year you’ve given me hell for not belonging and now that I might actually want to go, you’re telling me no!?”

You don’t let him say a word, instead you rush down the hall and to your room, slamming the door shut and locking the door, confusing your roommate, but she sees the tears in your eyes and decides not to question it.

Draco sort of hates himself for making you cry, but he can’t quite figure out why. He can’t figure out why the thought of you leaving for good bothered him so much. His friends couldn’t figure out why he cared so much. And neither could he.

You’re not at the End Of Year feast, nor on the train back to King’s Cross, and Draco gets really worried that you have left for good.

The more he thinks about it over the summer, the more he thinks that you weren’t so bad for a mudblood. And maybe sometimes you were actually brilliant. And maybe you’re the only one who can see right through him and yet you still help him when you can even though he’s stubborn about it. And maybe you did belong in the Wizarding world with him.

But he had to go and screw all of that up.

He does a double take when he sees you September 1st with a few other Slytherins on the Hogwarts Express.

“You came back,” He blurts out. “You can’t get rid of me that easy Malfoy,” You grin at him.

You still snap at each other but now it’s more of an inside joke rather than malicious. It’s a game that you both like playing.

“Happy now Y/l/n,” Draco grumbles after you correct him in front of the entire class. “Ever so more, now that you’re put off Malfoy,” You laugh.

Boy does Draco freak out when he hears that mudb-muggle borns are the target when the chamber of secrets is opened

Now he’s constantly worried about you and still doesn’t know why. He chalks it up to “you’re a slytherin and slytherins take care of their own,”

Not that he cares about any other slytherin muggle born, just you

Not that he admits that to himself either

So maybe he stalks you a bit in second year. You notice but shrug it off. Draco’s weird, that wasn’t new info to you.

This year you go to Quidditch games, one because Draco mentioned he was the new Seeker, and two... well, why not?

You go to one, then swear them off. Good lord they’re dangerous and give you unnecessary anxiety. Especially the amount of times people get hurt. Magic or not, you didn’t want to watch that.

After the first match that Draco sees you there, he always looks for you in the crowd again, but never sees you. It throws off his focus more than he cared to admit

he liked showing off to you okay?

He finds you in the common room after one victory, enjoying the party with your friends. You wave at him and after a while congratulate him on catching the snitch. It’s blushing and awkward but then Pansy comes and draws Draco’s attention and you can barely get out goodbye

The fact that you’re a muggleborn hardly bothers him anymore. You’re just... you.

After one particularly aggravating quidditch match you find him afterwards, sulking in the library.

“Draco?” You ask, confusion in your voice.

“Go away,” He grumbles, more or less hiding behind his book.

“I heard about what happened today...”

“And you’ve come to mock me, brilliant,”

“No,” you offer a smile. “Though the thought is appealing... I was wondering if you were okay,”

“I’m fine,” He snaps, taken aback that you came to check on him. No one did that. Ever.

The summer still gives him anxiety because there’s always the possibility that you won’t come back to Hogwarts the next year. And Draco can’t have that

But his fears are put to rest when your in his train compartment that next year (you have the same friends after all--and Slytherins stick together)

You notice that Draco’s wearing his hair a bit different this year and maybe he’s a bit taller...

and you have no idea what feeling is in your chest because of it. was it nervousness? No... was different... but what was it?

You shrug mentally and the game is on again with Draco.

“I was going to insult you but it seems like you’re doing just fine on your own,” You grin and Draco is livid. And it makes you laugh. He’s just so cute when he’s mad.

“I can see that you’re failing at attempting to mock me Y/l/n,” Draco smirks. “Oh you’re completely right,” You smile innocently, and Draco’s eyes widen because did you just say he was right?. “I’m not attempting, I’m succeeding at mocking you.” You giggle and make a face at him before heading down the hall with your friends.

and maybe Draco’s heart skips a beat

Animosity between the Gryffindors and Slytherin is real and even though you’re a muggle born the self righteous golden children don’t seem to care

Hi Dracos protective of you

“You don’t have to defend me. I’m just fine on my own,” you huff one day after class. “Slytherin take care of their own,” Draco shrugs and walks off.

Did Draco just call you a Slytherin genuinely? Did he just call you one of his own?? What the f—

Okay but Buckbeak terrifies you?? Like sure horses you could do but this??

Draco laughs at your apprehension before he realizes what you really are terrified and ducking behind him and the other Slytherin.

Hagrid picks you to come forward and greet Buckbeak and you can’t seem to get out the words “no thank you”

Draco, being over dramatic and now protective goes forward instead (you know the scene) and despite your fear of Buckbeak you’re scolding Draco that he’s going to get hurt if he doesn’t do it properly

Then he does get hurt

“It’s killed me!” He cries and you have to laugh, crouching down beside him.

“You’re fine drama queen,” you help him up and take him to Pomfrey. “Thanks,” you whisper as his arm is getting wrapped.

“Sure, I save you from a bloody chicken and all I get is a thanks?” He grumbles.

You rest your hand on his and your eyes meet.

“Thank you,” you say softly and boy does Draco melt on the spot

He still scoffs and plays it off. “Whatever,”

The same thing happens again with the boggarts but this time the roles are switched. Draco is terrified to go up but you’re pretty brave and reckless for a Slytherin

But holy heck does this backfire

Because your Boggart is Draco...

“You don’t belong here and you never will! You filthy little mudblood! Just go home and don’t come back! No one wants you here!”

You can’t manage the spell—because honestly you didn’t expect it to be that—and Lupin has to rescue you and you rush out of the room, tears in your eyes and everyone is just staring at Draco.

As you can imagine, things get pretty bad. Draco avoids and ignores you to the best of his ability because he had no idea how scared you were of him... sure maybe a little bit... but to be your greatest fear? It didn’t sit well with him.

And you figure out pretty quick why that was your boggart but you don’t know if you can admit it to anyone.

Until Lupin pulls you aside after class one day to ask if you’re okay and if Malfoy is giving you any trouble about being a muggleborn.

“I can give him detention,” Lupin offers. “Maybe it’ll straighten him out.”

“Stars, no!” You gasp. “Professor, please, Draco’s never...” You can’t exactly say he’s never said that, because he did, in first year. “It’s not for the reason you think, but Draco really... it’s not...” You don’t know how to explain without telling Lupin the entire thing.

“Alright,” Lupin appeases. “But if you have any trouble with anyone, you come to me you understand?”

You nod and leave, accidentally running into Draco in the hall. He barely looks at you before rushing off again.

“Draco, wait!” You call. “Please,”

Apprehensively he pauses and turns to face you. He waits for there to be fear in your eyes, but all he can see is desperation and sadness.

“I thought you were afraid of me,” He meant it as a snarky reply, but it comes out broken.

“No,” You shake your head. Biting your lip you decide to tell him why he’s your boggart. “You’re... you’re the only one I... I trust enough to believe... if you told me I didn’t belong... It only scares me if it comes from you,”

“What the bloody hell am I supposed to do with that!?” He demands.

You shrug, sighing thinking about the same. “I don’t know... I’m sorry Draco,” You turn and walk down the hall.

It’s gone from bad to worse because not the awkward tension between you two is tangible and about every Slytherin is over it. So are most of the other students but they don’t have to live with you two.

Draco barely sleeps at night. He’s just thinking about how he actually said that to you in first year and how you still held onto his words. He never meant for them to hurt you that badly. At least now he didn’t mean it.

Then there was the matter of what you had explained to him. That he was the only one who could hurt you with those words. Because you trust him? Why the hell would you trust him? Why was it him of all people?

Maybe his thoughts shifted to the panic in your eyes the day with Buckbeak, or the smile when you helped him off the ground, or the gentle kindness in your eyes when you thanked him in the infirmary.

Or maybe it was the determination in your eyes when you volunteered yourself to face the boggart so he didn’t have to.

Or maybe it was every taunt and tease that had you both smiling and laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. Every name calling, every insult.

Maybe it was the day he saw you at King’s Cross, telling him that he couldn’t get rid of you that easily and grinning at him like it was some sort of inside joke.

Or maybe it was the soft apology you gave him for the mess you were in.

You didn’t really talk for the rest of the year, but the tension seemed to ease after Draco’s epiphany that night. You smile at him and he waves to you in the halls... it’s nice. It’s friends.

Draco still thinks that this is finally the year that you don’t come back to Hogwarts and it really does crush him over the summer not being able to ask you or contact you at all. The disconnect between wizard and muggle was very irritating because he just wanted to talk to you.

His fears are again quelled when you’re on the Hogwarts Express. He sits with you this year.

Fourth year means the Durmstrang students are being hosted by the Slytherins and more than one has their eye on you and you just feel creeped out

Hi, Draco is jealous

Now he was your partner in every class, and constantly beside you in the halls, glaring down whichever guy dares to come near you.

Not that you notice. Again, Draco was weird. It wasn’t news to you. Besides he’s cute when he’s grumpy

Until one day you’re irritable and Draco just happens to be the person closest to you when you’re pushed over the limit.

“I don’t need you to protect me okay! I can handle guys just fine on my own thank you! God what is with you Draco!?” You scream at him during study hall and storm off. Against his better judgement, he gets up and follows you.

He finds you in the library leaning against a bookshelf in the back, your eyes closed.

“Go away Malfoy,” You sigh.

“How did you know it was me?”

“Because I know you,” You look over at him. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,”

“I’m sorry if I made you feel...” He looks down. “I... You’re...” He turns a slight shade of pink and trails off.

“It’s alright,” You offer a smile. “It’s actually kinda sweet,”

Now you’re both blushing.

You go to the first task together with the rest of the slytherins and Draco can barely watch the task because he’s watching your face light up at the sight of dragons, because your little muggle self has never seen a dragon before and it’s amusing and cute

Then Draco asks you to the Yule Ball for before any of the imbeciles from Durmstrang can in front of the entire Great Hall.

“Malfoy’s got himself a muggleborn girlfriend!” It’s some Gryffindor mocking you

You turn bright red and run off, finding yourself in the Forbidden Forest hiding behind a tree. You’re crying because you’re embarrassed and you’re mad that you’ve even crying, which makes you cry more.

You hear his voice calling your name and you pray to whatever god existed that Draco wouldn’t find you or see you cry.

He does find you.

“Go away Draco,” You beg, hiding your face in your hands.

“Now where have I heard that before?” He teases softly. A silence falls again.

“You never answered me,” His voice is soft and gentle. “Do you want to go to the Ball with me?”

You dare to look at him, confused as hell. He sitting beside you, staring at the grass and tree roots beneath you.

“Do you really mean that? Don’t give me that look. I know you don’t exactly hate my existence, and things are different... but asking me to the ball? I...” Shaking your head you rub your face.

“I can’t blame you for questioning my motives, though a part of me thought... maybe hoped you wouldn’t, but I really do mean it. I know I was an ass to you in the beginning, and sometimes I still am, and I’m sorry for that. I really am trying.” He nervous and rambling and you know it. “But I really do want to take you to the ball, because you’re kind, and sweet, and a brilliant slytherin and an amazing witch-”

He’s cut off because you pulled his tie and pressed your lips to his.

of course it’s awkward and weird because you’re kissing him and... he’s kissing you back?

You pull away, thoroughly confused, and you start to apologize, but he’s not having that, so with a bit more elegance, he pulls you in for another kiss.

This one is softer and slower and it gives you both time to figure out what kissing is now that it’s a thing you’re actually doing.

“Will you please go to the Ball with me?” He asks again, when the perfect kiss is ended. You nod and smiling giving him a “yes,”

“And maybe go out with me?”

You grin. “Whatever you want Malfoy,”

maybe he kisses you again

You to eventually head back inside, hand in hand and all of the Slytherins sigh in relief because finally

You’re a nervous wreck because all you can hear is “Malfoy’s got himself a muggleborn girlfriend,” on repeat and you can’t help but feel wrong

“You’re thinking about it again,” Draco raises an eyebrow at you.

“And you’re not?” You challenge. “It feels... wrong. How could a pureblood, a Malfoy no less, choose a muggleborn, a mudblood,”

“Don’t you ever,” Draco gets dangerous with cold fury. “Don’t you ever call yourself that. You hear me?” He’s towering over you, his grey eyes trained on yours. “You are a Slytherin,” He cups your face, his demeanor softening, “You are a brilliant witch. Pureblood or not, you’re mine. You hear me?”

You nod, and he wraps you into a hug, sighing. “I’m so sorry,” He whispers.

Your dress for the Ball is a bit more muggle than wizard, and you’re nervous about what the others in your house will say, but all of the worry goes away when Draco stares at you, turning pink and stumbling over his words

Not that you’re faring much better, because good lord is he gorgeous

It’s awkward and weird to be officially dating, but soon you fall back into your familiar game but now it’s harmless banter and lowkey flirting

Because Draco is protective and jealous of the Durmstrang blokes gaping at you maybe he’s okay with holding you closer than strictly necessary, or kissing you in a way that not completely polite in the company of others.

You roll your eyes at his antics, but allow it because you don’t like the way a few girls are staring at Draco.

Boy is Draco a goner when you get jealous and just as protective. He’s a stammering blushing mess if he can even make a word out at all

At the moment, Draco’s parents don’t know about you--partly for your safety partly because neither you nor Draco are ready for that battle

Draco and you spend free nights acclimating each other with wizard or muggle culture. Some nights are fun and carefree, some not so much...

Draco gives you a very strict rundown of the looming war and the threat of the Dark Lord and how very serious it is and how easily you can (and will) be killed for simply existing under Voldemort’s regime

Maybe once Draco agreed with his father that muggles shouldn’t exist and muggle born wizards were preposterous, but now? How could he look at you, your family, who welcomed him with open arms, and say that? How could anyone believe that?

He says “I love you” first. It’s an accident but you’re studying kne night and your eyes light up—like they always do when you learn something magic related—and it just slips out.

You gawk at him for a bit. Draco turns bright red and stares down at the books in front of you trying to play it off.

“I... I love you too,” you finally get out.

His eyes flash back to yours and your homework is forgotten and you’re in your own little bubble of a world in the epiphany that you love each other

“Of course I love you Draco,” there are tears in your eyes as he pulls you into his arms and now you’re both crying and kissing and mumbling “I love you”s

This summer, now that Voldemort is back, Draco goes about insane thinking about you, sending you owls almost daily to make sure that you were alright as well as hiding you from his parents

Except his mother finds out. Well, more like she knows her son and can see that he’s changed and casually asks “who is she?”

It’s a quiet conversation held behind closed doors and silencing charms. Draco explains who you are to him, and what you mean to him and now Narcissa is on your side, to be your protector from his father and the Dark Lord

I can throw Snape in there too right? Cuz he’s your head house as well as being close to the Malfoy’s and sees how much you mean to Draco. Yeah, sure, why not?

It’s harder for you as a Slytherin because no one outside of your house sees what kind of danger you’re truly in because they don’t want to take the time.

But you’re still fericely protective of the younger Slytherins who still get berated despite being eleven with no choice of a house

You and Draco as prefects?? Hello?? The CUTEST thing because you’re now the honorary parents of Slytherin younger years. And Draco seeing you take care of the first years does something weird and paternal to him. It’s the same for you.

Which means you might go toe to toe with Harry a few times because once after a quitting match when you’re waiting for Draco he says “how can you be with someone like him? You’re a muggle born. He’s a Malfoy, you don’t exactly belong,”

Cue you hexing Harry for saying that. Then Draco coming between you two. You explaining what Harry said and then Draco turns on Harry and then it becomes a muggle brawl and you have to drag Draco away from it before you get in trouble. By the end Harry has clearly got the message that yes you do belong, and no it’s never up for debate again

You both have detention again. But that’s fine, it’s just uninterrupted time you can spend with Draco and get some homework done

You are 100% over Umbridge and her rules. Especially when she gets between you and Draco with her eight inch rule but then again you’re slytherin and she seems to favor your house so she’s not as strict, especially with Draco as her golden boy

You don’t join the Inquisitional Squad, but you still look after your own house as a unofficial prefect as Draco works as part of the squad.

With the news of Draco’s father in jail, you comfort him that night, not leaving his side. He feels so conflicted because on the one hand it’s his father but on the other hand you’re safer with him locked away

Draco loathes that you leave him in the summer to go back home but he agrees it’s safer for you to be back in the muggle world. Until Voldemort starts to attack your muggle world and dementors hover over your town.

Draco writes to you, begging you to come and stay with him where it’s safer and you can use magic to defend yourself but you refuse because you won’t abandon your family

Draco takes the Dark Mark to keep you safe and to keep his facade up.

But he doesn’t tell you. Not for a long while. You know something is up because Draco looks like the embodiment of death but he won’t tell you why.

“Draco,” you confront him one night as you sit and watch the stars. “Please?” You don’t even have to ask the explicit question. There are tears in your eyes as you plead with him silently.

“I can’t,” he whispers hugging his knees, not daring to meet your eyes.

“Draco it’s me,” you lay a hand on his shoulder. “It’s just me. Whatever it is... I’ll always love you,”

“How can you... how can you love me when I became the one thing who’s truly meant to hate you?”

Your eyebrows furrow as you cup his face softly, his eyes meeting yours. “Do you love me?” Then mend. “Forget what you are... or what I am... or what should be. Look me in the eyes and tell me you love me,”

“I... I love you,” he gasps out, pulling you close. “Merlin of course I love you,” he’s sobbing into your arms and you hold him, letting him cry in peace and comfort.

You two sit in the quiet for a while, both lost in aimless thought.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says pulling away from you. “I’m so sorry,” he tugs up his shirt sleeve and you see the Dark Mark etched into his skin

“Draco,” your eyebrows furrow, your hand running over the mark. “Are you okay?”

“Why is that your first thought?” He laughs hopelessly, cupping your face delicately. “You never cease to amaze me,”

“Now what?” You ask softly after some time in silence. “What does it mean?”

“I don’t think anyone knows,” he admits. “It all became so complicated,”

You chuckle. “Oh the days when our biggest problem was my blood status,” you rest your head on his shoulder, tucked into his arms.

“I mean that’s still a relevant problem,” Draco points out, pulling you in tighter. “I don’t want to lose you. Not because of some stupid notion that pure bloods are better than muggle born,”

You smile at that and close your eyes, relaxing in his arms. “Did it hurt?” You asked after a while. “Like you wouldn’t believe,” there’s still pain in his voice.

You’ve become more protective of Draco now and he of you. It might go back to the core that Slytherins look out for their own, or maybe it was because your to loved another. All of the Slytherins seem to stick together lately.

In an attempt to protect Draco, Harry’s sectumsempra hits you instead

And stars above Draco would have killed Harry if he wasn’t so focused on keeping you alive until Snape arrived

Draco has the dark mark and you had dark magic scars all over your skin. That was a hard one to explain to your parents

If anything your scars make you more confident and self assured because they show the true nature of the precious “chosen one” and you’re not keen on letting Harry forget it from tank tops to shorts and skirts, you boldly show off your scars

Of course Draco takes his sweet and gentle time praising and adoring all of your scars. It leaves the ghost of his lips on your skin for days on end until he does it again

In all honesty you and Draco are a force to be reckoned with, both scarred by a war that hasn’t truly begun.

You’re beside Draco when he’s face to face with a dying Dumbledore. You’re gripping his other hand, a snarled look on your face because you saw his manipulative nature for what it was

Though you couldn’t bare to think of killing another, you didn’t stop Snape from doing the final action

You and Draco fled with the rest of the Death Eaters, both running into the Forbidden Forest before apparating away.

You share a desperate kiss at the Manor behind his locked bedroom door before you have to apparate back home, safe from Voldemort and his other Death Eaters

Now that both you and Draco can apparate legally, you have rendezvous points that you meet during the summer for a few hours a week. Sometimes it’s sunny afternoons in the countryside, sometimes it’s desperate nights in lavish hotels, sometimes it’s lazy mornings in comfortable beds

Seventh Year is hellish. On the one hand it’s great for the Slytherins, on the other hand it’s terrible for muggle borns. You escape a lot of the torture because of being with Draco but you can barely stomach watching it happen to others... especially first years.

“This is wrong Dray,” you whisper one night. “I... I can’t keep pretending like it’s okay. They’re just kids,” there are tears in your eyes.

It’s the first night that the room of requirement opens its doors to you letting you in on the renegade camp. Almost everyone is baffled to see you there.

“So...” Neville starts. “Yeah,” you nod looking around at all of the battered and bruised faces. Your heart breaks a little more.

You use whatever magic and muggle skills you have to help the younger years get patched up and feel safe again, soon becoming a co-leader along side Neville and Ginny.

The fact that you’re a Slytherin gets left at the door.

In fact after a while the room itself gets rid of all of the house banners and just becomes a communal space

You tell Draco where you are and what’s going on but despite how hard he tries, he can’t get into the room

Until one night, the night after Luna is kidnapped and he’s made to torture her, does he become desperate enough that the room opens for him and offers him a safe haven from the war as well

Boy was everyone shocked to see Draco stumble through the doors on the verge of tears.

Wordlessly you stand and go to him, wrapping him into a hug and pulling him to your cot, again letting him break down in peace and comfort

Soon more and more Slytherins start to trickle into the renegade room.

You move your parents far away from England and London while the war is happening with help from Narcissa and Draco

The day comes and the battle of Hogwarts arrives and the Slytherins stand with Hogwarts, knowing that family doesn’t start or end with blood.

You and Draco lead the Slytherins into battle against the Death Eaters with a furious vengeance

No one budged when Voldemort offered to reconcile after Harry was pronounced dead. You and Draco shared one last loving look and prepared to face death together

But then Voldemort is gone

You almost collapse in relief into Draco’s arms and he sinks to the floor unsure of the world himself.

Many lives are lost and many are wounded. You both go around healing and helping where you can, never far from the other

You break down crying when you see Lupin dead before you and Draco holds you tightly shedding a few tears of his own

You and Draco are both acquitted in the trials because most of Hogwarts comes to your defense in testamonies.

Your story makes headlines a few years later....

“Pureblood Ex-Death Eater Malfoy Proposes to Rebel Muggleborn Sweetheart”

It’s not happily ever after just yet, but maybe it’s a step in the right direction

masterlist

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

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Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 1

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for blood, language, brief nudity. Later chapters will be M Warnings: Nah fam Summary: Local vampire finds out she can't kill soft human (because they're soulmates, baby), human becomes insufferable bastard, oops they fuck later. Soulmate AU where if one person gets injured, their soulmate feels the same amount of pain and receives a scar in the relevant area.

1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring

It’s not that you had expected to survive this- being locked in the dungeon of Castle Dimitrescu, waiting for the day you’re picked to be someone’s meal. Oh no, you had given up on surviving long ago, it was just that… well, you had hoped that someone with a softer touch would do you in. But here you were, too exhausted to cry, hanging naked in front of none other than Cassandra Dimitrescu. Her eyes were trailing you up and down, examining every inch of your skin, every flaw, every unique trait. It was like she was making a mental map of which parts of you would taste best. Goddamn, you wanted to spit in her face, or scream, or say something, anything that might make her feel even an ounce of what you had felt for weeks.

But you know that she’s already planning to kill you, and to make it painful. Why give her any more reason? Why dare her to find a worse way to end your life? There was no good answer, so you stayed still, just watched her move. Maybe if you looked bored enough she’d make it quick, just stab a knife in you and drink you up like a capri sun. Or, maybe, if you kept a straight face, she would admire your courage. Oh, how you longed for people to think of you kindly now, in your last moments, when dying clean and pretty was no longer an option.

Pulling a blade from some hidden sheathe, Cassandra approaches you with a wicked grin. There’s still blood on her lips from her last victim. Had they not sated her? Or had she been like this for some time? When she inevitably drank from you, how long would your blood remain on her lips? You weren’t sure that you wanted to know. In your mind, you picture her cleaning up as soon as she was done with you. It does not make you feel any better. Neither does the way she traces a finger across your chest, left to right, practicing for the incision to follow. She pauses to lick her lips, making direct eye contact as she does.

What happens next passes by so quickly that you don’t process any of it until the whole ordeal is over. The blade’s tip digs into your chest, just below your collarbone, before dragging along half the width of your torso. It hurts like hell, but you manage to keep your misery to yourself. But your pain is soon replaced with confusion; Cassandra screams, loud enough to echo throughout the basement, doubling over herself. In an instant her knife has clattered to the floor, forgotten. Instinct takes over your brain, the default programing kicking in, and you say something that fills you with instant regret.

“Are you okay?” Your voice is a bit quiet, and raw, worn out from lack of hydration. But it is enough, evidently, for Cassandra to hear. She’s rising back up and glaring at you, one hand clutching her chest. Something in her expression tells you that she thinks you’re mocking her. While that wasn’t technically the case, there was a part of you that found joy in this, watching your captor get a taste of their own medicine. The question left in your mind was why she was in pain. “I’ll take that as a no,” you said, again left with regret at your choices.

Now her hand is swiping at your face, nails cutting you open. Once more she hisses in pain, now clutching her head, shaking a little as she does. When she meets your gaze, you see that she’s more confused than anything. More than that, you see the marks on her face, knowing instantly that they match your own. Oh hell no, you thought, grimacing.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Cassandra growled through clenched teeth. Bouncing back and forth on her heels, she seems tense, unsure of how to process what’s happening. You feel the same way, desperately wanting to pretend that this doesn’t mean you’re her soulmate. Maybe the universe had just messed up, crossing some wires, or decided to pull a prank on the two of you. Either way it was better than the alternative. Eager to think about something else, you start considering your options. The first that comes to mind is ridiculous. Stupid, really. But would it amuse you? Absolutely.

“Not gonna lie, I feel better about the idea of you killing me now. Feel free to make it painful, darlin’, I won’t mind,” you snarked, lips curling up into a smirk. Oh boy was it satisfying to watch Cassandra’s response. One of her hands raises to smack you, only for her to freeze before releasing a torrent of swears. Hurting you meant hurting herself. “What’s the matter? Can’t handle a little aching? Haven’t you ever imagined what it’s like to be on the other side of things? Under the blade yourself, blood soaking your skin, eyes too dry for even a single tear? Poor thing,” you purred, tone as teasing as it could get. Apparently it’s aggravating enough for Cassandra to fight through the pain, as she slams her fist into your stomach, leaving both of you gasping for breath. “This is fun-” you pause to cough out a few drops of blood- “really, really fun. Hey, if you kill me, how bad do you think you’ll feel?”

Before Cassandra can react, either to speak or hurt you worse, the sound of approaching footsteps draws her attention. From where you hang you can’t see much, too many cells and hanging bodies blocking your vision. But your “soulmate” seemed to know who was coming. Her face scrunches up a little, and she adjusts her robes, trying to cover the mark on her chest. Had you not still been coughing, you would have sarcastically asked her how she intended to hide her face.

“What the hell is going on, Cassandra?” An unfamiliar voice asked. The footsteps grew louder, and faster, until the new figure stood in the same cell as you. Not even bothering to spare you a glance, she approaches Cassandra, reaching to examine her face. “Did a prisoner manage to get you? I’ve told you a thousand times-”

“Don’t fucking touch me, sis,” Cassandra snapped, pushing away her sister’s hand. Both of them are visibly tense, and for a moment they stand still, staring each other down. Then the sister (who you assume to be Bela, from things you’ve overheard recently) shifts her focus to you. Something tells you that she has no intentions of being gentle.

“Did you do this, you rotten little thing?” Bela questioned, glaring at you hard enough to send a shiver down your spine. But that doesn’t stop you from trying to have some more fun.

“Oh, of course I did! I rattled my chains real good, scared the shit out of her, made her fall on her own knife a few times. You know, like that one musical?” You must look insane as you speak, grin wide but face dripping with blood. If it unnerves Bela, she hides it well, though you doubt it does. As soon as you’re done poking fun she’s pulling out her sickle. Still grinning, you make eye contact with Cassandra, who realizes what’s happening a second too late. Then the two of you cry out in unison, as the blade carves into your shoulder. Instantly Bela pulls back, stunned, turning to her sister with genuine concern. “I might have lied. Rest assured though, it was for comedic purposes.”

The next thing you know the two sisters are shuffling away from you, Cassandra begrudgingly being dragged along by Bela. Though the younger of the two had been adamant about not receiving help, she now had little choice in the matter, skin searing from your blood bond. Even you are starting to breathe harder than you’d like.

“Was it something I said?” You barked, barely able to manage a fit of giggles between your coughing. Bela shoots you a glare over her shoulder, but quickly returns her attention to her sister. They talk, quickly, soft enough that you can only make out a few words here and there. It’s hard to make meaning from it, especially considering their vastly different tones. Cassandra is pure anger, gestures fast and wide, while Bela is oddly solemn, even regretful. When you finally catch a couple full sentences, things start to make a little more sense, though you wish they didn’t.

“We can kill them painlessly, in their sleep. That way you won’t have to suffer,” Bela whispered. She’s doing her best to comfort her sister, despite the tension in the room, gently patting her on the back. Briefly, you make eye contact with her. In that moment she looks equal parts executor and unwilling jury. But she looks away quickly, even shifting her angle to prevent it from happening again.

“No, fuck that, fuck this, I’m… I’m not killing them. Nobody is,” Cassandra growled, daring to emphasize her point by pushing Bela away. Now it’s her turn to look at you, brows furrowed, eyes betraying something more than just anger. Somehow it’s a million times worse than when she first came in. You strain yourself trying to look away, cursing the chains keeping you in place, resorting to closing your eyes and pretending none of this was real. “I don’t care what you think, Bela. They’re already my ‘meal’, might as well get what enjoyment out of this that I can.”

Again, footsteps echo through the basement. Tension locks your muscles in place, and your eyes are still clamped shut, to the point that you don’t realize your chains are being undone until you’ve hit the ground. Cursing under your breath, you finally open your eyes again. There’s blood on the floor, only some of it yours, and you’re suddenly aching for a bath. More than that, though, you’re praying for something to cover yourself with. Certainly Cassandra didn’t need to see everything, now that you weren’t a piece of meat for her to enjoy? As if reading your mind, the middle Dimitrescu daughter flings open a nearby cabinet, messily searching for something. Eventually she gives a hum of approval, then tosses a blanket in your direction.

“Put it on, dipshit, then follow me,” she snapped, already walking away. For a moment you’re tempted to stay there, sitting still, waiting to see how long it would take for her to notice. But one look from Bela sends the thought back to whatever crevice of your mind it crawled out of. So you’re moving, hastily, awkwardly wrapped in a somewhat itchy blanket. Other prisoners eye you as you pass, some shouting curses or even spitting at you. At first Cassandra takes no notice, or simply doesn’t care, but eventually the noise seems to irritate her. Turning back, she takes her sickle in hand and slams the handle into the bars of a cell. It’s loud, making you flinch, but gets everyone’s attention. “Next one to make a peep gets the blood eagle!”

“Is that, like, a sex thing?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop yourself. Laughter rings out around you from the few prisoners capable of it. Cassandra is seething again, looking about ready to kill you. Then she’s shifting into swarm mode, spreading out wide, insects barreling through half the occupied cells. A few cries escape the prisoners, as the flies take bites out of them, cutting a perfect balance between pain and (a lack of) lethality. They’d be suffering for days to come, every movement making their wounds ache. “Not a sex thing, got it,” you muttered to yourself, just as Cassandra reforms in front of you. This time she grabs the blanket you’re wrapped in, using it to tug you forward, sending you towards the exit.

“Shut up for five minutes and I might let you put on actual clothes,” she growled, keeping one hand on your back to guide you. The offer is the closest thing to kindness you’ve seen from her, and you have half a mind to do what she says. Would you actually manage to keep quiet for that long? Well, you were certainly looking forward to finding out...

#cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #resident evil: village #re8 village #*evil laughter*#i know I said this would have fluff #but it turned into humor oops #yes this will be the best trope #enemies to friends to lovers

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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

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𝙇𝙄𝙆𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙎? | 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙡 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙗𝙨 (18+)

request: none.

pairing: edgy!Karl Jacobs x fm!reader

warnings: college au basically [therefore Karl inaccuracies], nsfw (18+), asphyxiation, oral (m. receiving), domination, spanking, mentions of smoking, suggestive language, swearing, eyeliner

word count: ~4000

a/n: this is pure filth, crucify me pls.

A O 3 L I N K

The cold air threaded through your locks as you raced to your morning class, the rain seemingly soaking into your bones. You approached the heavy wooden French doors of your designated building, your umbrella folding against your side in a clumsy dance. As you crossed through the first threshold of the building, you swept away the damp strands that had fallen in your face out of your line of vision. You rushed to swing the lecture hall’s door open. A willowy figure clad in black brushed past you, sending only a small nod of acknowledgment your way to combat your slight eye roll at the swift action. You trudged between the rows of the theatre style rows, finally plopping down into an aisle seat.

As you sank into the chair, a small shiver crawled up the length of your spine with the sudden anxiety of eyes burning into the back of your head. You acted as if you were looking for someone, in order to subtly peer over your right shoulder. Your gaze drifted from the shoes of the girl stationed behind you toward the slouched form slumped in his seat. His iridescent irises searing into yours with a cocky swell of curiosity. He propped his chin against his hand, lazily gripping a pen as he watched you watch him. His black eyeliner was smudged. Your mind wandered through the possibilities of what he might have been up to last night. Had he been tangled with another person? Were those the same clothes he’d worn the day before? Or was he in some kind of garage band, playing at the local underground club? In reality, it was probably caused by the ongoing downpour and lack of sleep.

You fought to pry your eyes from his slender fingers as they moved to twist at the pen cap, drawing more attention closer to his lips. His tongue darted out to wet the mildly chapped skin, an effort you could nearly feel in your knees. His tongue moved as he caught his lip piercing between his white teeth.

He smugly sent you a wink, breaking you from your trance and you snapped your head forward. A flush settled over your cheeks at the realization you’d been staring. You attempted to ignore the low chuckle you could hear coming from the man. You chewed the inside of your cheek as you watched him out of the corner of your eye stand and drag his belongings into the seat directly behind you.

You protested against the smile threatening to spread across your features as you felt him peer over your shoulder, his breath dangerously close to your skin. “Nice handwriting,” he quipped, a hint of rasp from the early morning still tied in his voice. His smirk was evident in his tone.

Throughout the lecture, your concentration shifted from your notes to the smug grin that played upon his lips after the compliment. You shamelessly thought about what it would be like to kiss someone with a lip ring. The idea even carried you through your next class.

You ran a hand through your hair, thanking whatever higher being that it had finally stopped pouring long enough for you to get to your next destination. You descended the concrete steps hugging one corner of the building, your mindset on just how to fit a lunch break into your schedule for the day. You had passed the huddled groups of loiterers so quickly that the abrupt boom of a familiar voice nearly sent your head spinning.

“Hey, Hancock!” The rasp in the voice was now clear, unlike how muddled it had been that morning. You turned on your heel, nearly ramming into the tall figure who’d earlier blatantly stepped in front of you and ruffled your feathers.

Your eyebrows raised momentarily in mock recognition. “Oh, it’s you…” you mumbled.

His mildly expressionless features seemed to beckon you. “Cold,” he bit. “I liked you better when you were eye-fucking me earlier.” He lowly chuckled at his own joke. You found yourself once again fighting not to humor him as you felt the tips of your ears warm. He took one last inhale of his cigarette before flipping it off to the side.

“Did you need something, stud?” You asked with a small quip, tilting your head to capture his eyes on you once again.

He chewed on his bottom lip before leaning towards you slightly. “Would you wanna go somewhere quiet?” You smirked, raising an eyebrow at his words. “You know, to chat,” he continued slyly, emphasizing the word with a smug expression as your eyes gave away how into the prospect of chatting with him would be.

As the two of you slipped into the closest building, you felt butterflies begin to flutter around in your stomach. One of his large hands brushed against yours, sending heat to your cheeks. “So… What did you want to talk to me about-” You stopped short realizing you didn’t know his name, quirking an eyebrow in his direction.

“- Karl,” he finished for you, raking a hand through his hair. “I’m Karl.”

You tugged him behind you down a long hallway around the corner from the entrance, pulling him in front of you as your back thumped against the cold cinder-block wall. “It’s nice to meet you, Karl,” you murmured, pulling him down to your height and basking in his smirk.

“Feeling’s mutual,” he grinned, pressing his lips against yours.

You dug your fingers into Karl’s dark hair, tugging him closer to your body as the pair of you clumsily gripped at each other’s clothing. The feeling of Karl’s lips against yours sent a rush of heat spreading through your chest as his teeth pulled at your bottom lip, a moan threatening to rip from your throat. The smell of his cigarette still lingered on his clothes to mix with the dew in the air from outside. The coolness from his tongue ring was a stark contrast to his warm breath. His tongue dragged across your bottom lip and he seemed to hungrily deepen the pressure of your kiss as if he couldn’t get enough of the taste of your vanilla chapstick.

You were thankful for the dim lighting of the secluded hallway, praying that no one would find the two of you. His hands ravenously explored your body, pinning you between him and the wall behind you as his lips began to travel towards the crook of your neck. Your brain blurred as you brazenly ground your hips into his, relishing in his sensitivity to your newly created friction as he hissed against your skin through his teeth.

His grip tightened around your leg, fitting your bodies closer together to eliminate what little space there had been between the two of you. You let out a small moan as his tongue neared your earlobe, his low chuckle sending a rush of cold air against the wetness of the spots on your neck. You slid your hand between the both of you, palming him through his dark jeans as he nipped at your skin. His hand followed to hold yours. His head tilted away from you, a breathless moan hissing through his gritted teeth. His prominent Adam’s apple bobbed slowly as he swallowed what he could of another groan while your hand alternated pressures despite his hand squeezing your own and encouraging your tactics. You bit back an allured grin as a tattoo began to peek out from just below his collar.

“This is fun,” he jousted, sending goosebumps to pepper your skin as he buried his face into your neck. You chuckled lightly. “Fuck, that feels so good,” he groaned into your hair.

You nudged him away from you, watching as his eyes dripped with lust for you. He surveyed you closely as you slunk down to your knees, reveling in the sight of him towering over you to brace one of his hands against the wall. You raked your nails up his thighs, eliciting a groan echoing in his chest. He settled his other hand on the side of your face, his thumb jetting out to brush against your aggravated lips still stinging from the sensation of his teeth. His jaw tightened as you slid your hands over his zipper to unclasp his pants. You couldn’t understand what had come over you, but you wanted nothing more than to see him in pleasure.

Despite the fact that he wasn’t fully aroused, you were surprised at the mere size of him yet refused to acknowledge this fact. You hadn’t wanted him to cum too soon.

You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, a breath sighing across Karl’s parted lips in pleasure now that there was no barrier between you and him. You flashed your eyes back up to him, beginning to pump his length in your hand, his member stiffening as he became fully erect. Your encouragement brought a slight blush to his cheeks as he twitched beneath your touch, his hand finding purchase in your hair. You wet your lips before pressing them against the tip of his arousal, your tongue following in procession to tease against the sensitive skin.

Karl’s fingers curled deeper into your hair as you pushed his cock into your mouth. You couldn’t ignore the heat growing between your own legs as a rasping string of curses drew from his mouth. As you began to flex your tongue against him and move your hand Karl’s head tilted back, his member beginning to throb in your mouth with lust and excitement. You began to bob your head up and down on his dick, swirling your tongue to provoke more of his lude reactions. You pulled your mouth off of him only to continue to massage his shaft with your hand, your tongue dragging against his length as he groaned. You could feel his eyes resting upon you, the flesh of his lower lip caught between his teeth as his lip ring glinted in what little light there was.

You pushed his arousal back into your mouth, this time with the intention of taking him deeper. You looked up to make eye contact with him once again, feeling his breath hitch as you alternated your hand speeds with the movement of your head as you slowly brought him closer to the back of your throat. Tears began to brim in your eyes at the near gagging feeling you were beginning to experience, which he seemed to be getting off on the idea of. You brought yourself completely to the base of his size, a near guttural moan of your name grating passed his lips. His cock twitched at the feeling and you could tell by the blood rushing to his cheeks that he was close. The furrowed look of desire painted across his expression because of what you were doing to him alone could have undone you.

He tugged on your hair, making you moan at the action, sending a wave of vibrations to echo against his erection. At that movement he came, sending hot streams of pleasure into your mouth to accompany the look of relief and utter leerance in his eyes. You swallowed what you could before dragging your sleeve across your lips as he zipped his jeans and dropped onto his knees in front of you, his lips capturing yours. You felt his coarse thumbs brushing away some of the tears that had slipped from your eyes as your nails dug into his sides. “My roommates are home,” he muttered between his praising kisses. “Can we head to yours? It’s my turn,” he nearly jeered. You tugged him up with you, him threading his fingers with yours to pull you behind him towards the nearest exit.

Before you knew it, Karl’s lips were back against yours as if they were made to fit together. His praise of your work on him earlier came in the form of his hands slipping beneath your shirt, slender fingers digging into your sides as his teeth grated across the lush color of your lips. He made haste in pulling off your pants, his teeth nipping at the sensitive areas between your thighs before moving back up to tend to your neck. Your skin had seemingly yet to be marked by him as his tongue traced the valleys of your collarbones, making you moan and tighten your legs around his hips. The evanescence of his tongue ring ghosting along your neck sent heat to your core as your mind burned at what was in store for you.

He sat back on his heels to tug off his dark sweatshirt and t-shirt. His chest was a welcome sight to you before his hands laced with yours, pushing them above your head and sealing your lips together. His hips ground against yours, the friction forcing a moan to sloppy your breathless kiss even further. You felt him smirk against your lips at your easy pleasure. You were grateful you’d treated yourself this morning to your good lingerie as his fingers slipped from your grasp to slide beneath your waistband and grip at the curvature of your ass, pressing his growing erection harder against you.

He tugged at your bottom lip before nipping at the shell of your ear. “Are you sure you wanna do this?” His voice was low and dripping with lust as your fingers dug into the short hair near the base of his neck. You nodded almost too eagerly and he chuckled darkly. “No, I need to hear you say it.” Karl’s breath was hot against your neck. “Beg me to fuck you.”

The husk in his voice and the feeling of his hands on your body made you whine. “Please, yes!” You groaned, “fuck me!” He pushed his hands beneath your shirt before pulling it over your head. With his hands molding to your sides, he flipped you. You heard him slip out of his pants before you felt his lips on your shoulder blade, a moan escaping your lips as he pushed your hair to the side.

He sat back, pulling on your thighs until you were pressed up against him on your hands and knees, his stiff cock bracing against his boxers as it nudged at your heat. You moaned as he reached around to rub your bundle of nerves, his other hand kneading against your shoulder. You ground against him, urging him to fill you instead of just teasing at your orgasm. Your mind flashed to his needy expression in the dimness of the corridor, making your knees ache once again as the new sensation he was pulsing through your body making your vision hazy.

Karl’s fingers came to a stop as he pushed your shoulders into the mattress beneath you, your thighs spreading further. He traced his cock against your entrance, a begging moan falling from your lips to egg him on. His breath fanned across your back as he snickered at your display before edging himself into you. You fisted the sheets as he bottomed out inside of you, snapping his hips against you before retracting slightly only to repeat his actions until you adjusted. His fingers dug into your hips as he leaned over you, one of his hands settled near your head as he balanced himself, continuing to sink himself into you with a nearly steady rhythm. “Like this?” He jeered, alluding to your begging statements before. Much to your dismay, you knew if you’d ever see him again after this, your begging would probably be brought up again.

You tugged your lip between your teeth, watching as his black nails disappeared into his grip on the sheets as he seemed to be holding back with every inch of his body. You felt every movement of him inside you as if it were your first time, his soft grunts melding with your moans before his teeth bit into your shoulder, a pained and pleasurable noise escaping the depths of your chest. The tension within you began to build at a quicker pace, your body suddenly begging for relief. Karl’s other hand moved to knot in your hair, pressing you further into the soft padding beneath you as clenched around him. “Fuck, don’t do that,” he nearly growled, his words coming as a surprise to break up his panting.

You couldn’t fight the nasty grin spreading to your face, knowing full-well he could see it despite his hellish grip on your hair. “What? I’m not allowed to edge you?” You jousted, ignoring the fact that you were nearly powerless beneath him with your body pinned to the bed and your hips under his command.

He chuckled darkly at your comment. A sharp slap seared against your ass, sending a stinging sensation across your body to meld with the intense feeling of him inside you. “Don’t act like a brat,” he joked, pulling out of you suddenly. Your hands cramped as you loosened your grip on the sheets, just now realizing how hard you were locked onto them for support. Before you could ask any questions, Karl flipped you again.

He chewed the inside of his cheek, briefly looking over you as if deciding what to do next. He crawled over you again, pressing a kiss to your chest before locking his lips to yours and tucking your legs into the crooks of his elbows. Your tongues melded together in a sinful dance as Karl roughly pushed into you again, a moan vibrating into your kiss. At this new angle, he was seemingly reaching deeper inside of you, teasing you closer to your climax with each of his calculated thrusts. You broke the kiss to catch your breath, groaning as he continued to pump himself inside of you.

Your nerves jumped as you heard the front door open downstairs, Karl’s devious eyes flashing to yours as the two of you halted. “It’s my roommate…” You whispered, as he softened his hold on you but he didn’t dare to pull out of you yet.

You could practically see the gears turning in his head as the two of you listened to her softly bustling about while she unpacked from the day. Karl moved to bury his head in the crook of your neck, one of his arms settling to the side of you to take your hand again as he bit into your skin. A strangled moan whined past your teeth as you debated what to do next. “Should we invite her to join us?” He jested, his tongue ghosting over what you could already assume were a litter of bruises painting your skin. He chuckled to himself, probably feeling the way you tensed at his comment. “Nah, actually. I don’t wanna share you,” he growled, pressing a kiss to the center of your clavicle and making your breath hitch as the scent of his previous cigarette filled your nose once again.

He took your blatant obedience to his suggestive actions as a nod to thrust into you, making you gasp shortly. He moved one of his hands to tighten around your throat, his eyes burning into yours with an animalistic desire at your grinning response. He rolled his lip ring into his mouth as he looked at you carnally. He began to pound into you at a rougher speed, making your eyes roll and your mind fuzz in pleasure. Heat spread through your body as his fingers tightened around your throat, your breathing now at his mercy as your insides coiled in retaliation at your building orgasm.

His blazoned stare smugly watched you with pride as you moaned out his name in a string of silent mutterings. His hand moved to clamp over your mouth and his lips were near your ear as he thrust into you at an unforgiving pace. “Shh shh shh,” he tsked lowly. “She’s gonna hear,” he groaned, voice rasping and uneven with his desire getting the better of him. His other hand gained purchase on the headboard and by the clouding look in his eye from above you, you could tell he was close again. The pleasure you got from coaxing him to his first orgasm earlier still burned in the back of your mind, the thought sent a wave of enticement to your core.

It was getting to the point where you no longer cared if your roommate heard either of you, your orgasm was becoming too hard to hold back. You tightened around him, evoking a husky moan to reverberate from his chest. He pushed a thumb over your bottom lip, biting into his own before quickening his pace to chase his own climax. The sight of you unraveling beneath him, a fucked out expression spreading across your face to match your blissed-out wave of pleasure, sent him over the edge too.

He hungrily seized your lips in another kiss, his weight leaning on top of you as you threaded your fingers into his hair. He kissed you like you were the last sip of water and he was a man in the middle of a desert. He severed the heat between the two of you, flopping onto his back beside you. You turned your head slightly, noticing the time and shrugging from under his arm to stand up.

“Hey, did you wanna get dinner or something?” He asked, propping himself up on his elbows. The sheets rolled off his body to cling around his waist; his hair was tousled and reaching down to obstruct his vision. His iridescent eyes watched your every move as you yanked your pants up over your thighs with a small hop. You tried to ignore the beauty that was the sheen of after-sex glow, painting his cheeks red. His features looked sharper as the sunlight peering from between the blades of your window blinds drew streaks across his face. His eyeliner was a smudged mess, something you fought not to smirk proudly at, knowing how hard he’d just worked on you.

As you straightened your appearance to look somewhat presentable for your next lesson, you couldn’t help but notice his keen interest in you. He had proven himself to be quite the voyeur in the few hours you’d known him. “I have class actually. You can shower if you want while I’m gone, but I’d rather my roommate not get any ideas.” You perked an eyebrow at him and a smug expression flattered his features. He leaned back into your pillows, tucking his hands behind his head.

“Maybe I’ll pay her a visit on my way out then,” he jeered, sending you a small wink. You rolled your eyes and threw your bag over your shoulder.

You felt gross and in need of a shower, but the time you had left was already thin enough. “Whatever. Maybe you can tell her it’s rent day tomorrow?” You quipped and slipped out the door, hoping he wouldn’t make a fuss about leaving so you wouldn’t be bombarded with questions from your [hopefully] oblivious roommate. The last thing you wanted was your feminist reputation to be tarnished over a boy like Karl. Yet, the thought of Karl ruining you in any way brought heat to your cheeks slightly.

It’d been a day or so since you’d met with Karl, and you were beginning to wonder if you’d just imagined him. Or at least you would have if your roommate hadn’t asked about him every time your phone had gone off or you had to leave for the day.

Now as the leaves were beginning to flood with more vibrant colors, you walked at a slower pace, attempting to keep up with your roommate’s ramblings about a dinner she was planning. Pools of people streamed in and out of buildings as bells tolled in the distance as you made your way towards one of the common buildings. You hadn’t paid much mind to the handful of boys skating around the two of you until an all too familiarly framed figure brushed past you a little too close for comfort. You huffed slightly as he turned to smirk at you, his lip ring capturing your attention. “Excuse me,” you groaned, playfully.

His face brightened as you pulled the strap of your bag further up your arm. He crouched slightly to twist his board, coming back towards you. “My bad, baby,” he cooed, swinging around you and smacking your ass lightly.

You fought the blush threatening to spread to your cheeks at his smug display. “Are you trying to catch a sexual harassment case?” You hissed as he whizzed by you again, a grin painting his features. It was almost like he was an excited puppy, greeting his owner. His edgy appearance was almost a coarse foil character of its own when he acted like that.

“Hey, you enjoyed it the other day,” he called back, as he hopped off his skateboard and regrouped with his friends, earning an eye roll from you.

Your roommate popped her gum from beside you, indicating her presence which you’d forgotten among the shenanigans with Karl. “Holy fuck. Can I have a go too?” She jeered, making you inhale sharply.

“Good luck. He bites,” you jousted, glancing over your shoulder, which he seemed to have been awaiting as he sent back a cheeky wink.

#karl jacobs smut #karl jacobs x reader #college au karl jacobs #karl jacobs x you #eboy #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #edgy!karl #edgy!karl jacobs #mcyt smut #mcyt x you

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macnevercries · 3 years

Text

Hurt me? You could never (Kirishima x Plus F!reader)

Warnings- face riding, oral(receiving), plus sized reader, female pronouns/body, alcohol use, (slight dub con?)

Word Count- 2k

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The sway of the music was heavy as you moved with it, lost in a mob of people. Your hips circled drunkenly, dancing the night away in a pit of sweaty people enjoying themselves as much as you. As the room rolled and jolted you started feeling hot, the sudden flashes of temperature overwhelming you. You started to tug at your top, trying to get it off to relieve yourself of the burning sensation in your body. The fabric clung to your skin and you started getting angry. Just as the shirt started to give way it was tugged back down by a pair of large hands. You almost screamed in annoyance, turning around to see your boyfriend standing behind you, holding your drinks and trying to have you keep your dignity. Your annoyance turned to a soft smile, then a giddy laugh when you spotted the alcohol. Swiping towards the drink in his hand, you almost feel over with the motion. Kirishima dragged the cup away from you, steadying you on his muscular arm.

“I think that’s enough for tonight sweetheart” Kirishima consoled you, smiling at your cute pout.

“Kiri it’s sooooo hot in here, help me cool down” you mumbled, slumping into his chest. A deep chuckle erupted from him, your childish antics humourous.

“Were gonna go home now, okay babes? He asked, pulling you up into his arms, discarding the drinks in the nearest trash can. You mumbled an okay as he pulled you towards the exit, the blaring sounds of yelling and bass fading the further you got from the crowd. Kirishima nodded at the bouncer as you exited the club, pushing the heavy door open and out into the dark rainy parking lot. Clubbing was fun for you two but somehow it always ended in him taking care of you. Your weight had fluctuated over the years but you were always a little fuller than the other girls you knew. Despite your weight, you could not hold your alcohol. Kirishima had seen your drunken state many times and while it could be a hassle, he loved the way your soft body clung to him, you were a needy drunk.

The rain soaked through your white top, exposing the pink Lacey bra you were wearing. Kirishima felt his pants tighten a little, looking at you in the rain, smiling brightly and lighting up his world. You had always shined so bright to him, even on your worst days. Kirishima ushered you into the car, leaning over your full breasts to buckle you in. He held in a breath at the touch, he could sense you sobering up and he was definitely in the mood. He got in the drivers seat and started the car, handing you some water to sip on for the drive home. For 15 minutes Kirishima was silent, only occasionally looking over at you to check and make sure you were fine. Every time he peeked at you and you had your lips wrapped around the straw of the water bottle he gulped, speeding up slightly, his anticipation building from within.

When you guys pull up to your shared home the red haired man practically runs around the car to open your door. He offers to help you walk but you’re almost sober now from all of the water you drink. Kirishima walks behind you up the driveway and steps to the door, watching the way your hips sway in your skin-tight clothes. Kirishima’s love had boosted your confidence a lot since you guys started dating and he was glad because tight clothes were definitely a blessing to his eyes. He had always had a thing for bigger girls, your soft figure brought him comfort when his own body and quirk wouldn’t allow it. Taking off your shoes at the entryway and locking the door, you headed to the bathroom to use it before slumping on the couch. The clock on the wall read 2am, it was too late to be awake. You leaned your head down on the pillows, resting your eyes momentarily. The catnap did not last long because after around two minutes you felt heavy gaze scanning your body.

Sure enough when you opened your eyes, Kirishima was in front of you, gazing at you lovingly with half lidded eyes. Your top clung to your chest in all the right ways and the way you were laying accentuated your curves, to Kirishima you look delicious. Kirishima started towards you, crawling onto the couch beside you and snuggling himself between your thick legs, having his head rest on your plush chest. The slow up and down of your breathing both calmed him down and spurred him on more. You look at his flustered face, amused at how heated he was. Had you done something while you were drunk? Pushing that thought aside you accepted Kirishima, softly petting his head and running your fingers through his hair, making him sigh. His barely audible mumbles of praise and ‘I love you’ made you smile. He buried his face into your chest as you rubbed away his tension.

Slowly he tugged at the neck of your shirt, pulling it down slightly so he could kiss up your collarbone. His kisses made you shiver, you could feel the lust and need oozing out of him. He rotated so that you were on top on him, pressed against him in the most tantalizing way. His lips traveled up your neck and your jaw until they reached your lips. He met you with a passionate kiss, hungry and desperate. He hiked your thighs around his waist, standing up and walking towards the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. No matter how heavy you were, Kirishima was stronger. He never had an issue lifting you and the way he did it made it seem so easy.

He set you down on the bed and then crawled around you so that he was laying down behind you. You glanced back at him questioningly but the look on his face frightened you. He had a lazy grin and a mischievous glint in his eye, something enjoyable on his mind.

“What is it Kiri?” you asked hesitantly, afraid of what you were about to find out. At your question he grinned wider, his sharp teeth sparkling in the dimly lit room. He pulled you close to him and leaned into your ear

“I want you to ride my face” he purred, happy with his idea. At his words you turned beet red, shaking your head aggressively and backing up slightly. This was definitely not what you expected. He pouted at your discontent with his idea.

“Baby please, you would look so good on top of me and you taste so good. God I want you in my mouth” He assured you, tugging you closer to him again.

“What if I hurt you? Eiji you know I’m too big for this.” you sighed, disappointed too. Maybe in a different scenario but this could never happen.

“Hurt me?” he laughed. Your eyes popped open, shocked by his change in demeanor.

“Do you know what I would give to suffocate in these thighs?” he asked, squeezing your leg with love, but his grip was a little hard.

“Just get on top of my face, if it doesn't work then we’ll stop, I promise” he reassured, stroking your back and coaxing you on top on him. Your will broke at his words, after all his idea was appetizing to you too. You took your pants off, tossing them in a far corner before situating yourself on the red head’s shoulders. He grabbed the back of your thighs, drawing you closer to his face. You couldn't help but turn away, despite the number of times you guys have had sex, Kiri’s pure love and devotion to you made you squirm.

He licked a wet stripe up your panties suddenly, causing you to gasp. On instinct, your hips rutted back into his face and he chuckled, you muttered apologies, embarrassed by your lack of composure, You went to climb off of him, ready to go hide away but not before Kirishima could grab your hips with a bruising grip. Your head snapped back in his direction.

“You're not going anywhere kitten, we haven't even started.” He pulled your panties to the side and the cold air against your exposed core made you shiver. At the sight of your glistening cunt he licked his lips and got to work.

His tongue pressed flat against your cunt, licking heated and hungry stripes up you. He’d go down to tease your entrance and then up to circle your clit, sucking lightly and grazing it with his teeth. The pattern he created left you on a rollercoaster of feelings, moaning, mewling and dragging yourself against his face. Every time your hips stuttered and you got close he’d pull away to focus somewhere else. You whined, aggravated by his teasing. Some time passed and he kept his rhythm, never letting you finish. By now you were fuming, boiling over with rage.

“Eiji what the fuck” you spat when he changed stopped again for the umpth time. He looked up at you with the most innocent eyes, trying to convey his confusion with his mouth still buried in you.

“Why won’t you let me finish? I want to cum, please Eiji, make me cum” You purred. If he was gonna be like this then you would play his game. At your words something sparked in his eyes. His hips rutted up from the bed, your affect washing over his entire body. He curled one of his hands away from your thigh and prodded your entrance with his thick fingers. Slipping two in easily he watched in awe as emotions flashed past your eyes and you ground yourself down onto them.

“Yeah, fuck yourself on my fingers, just like that baby” He murmured, causing you to go faster. He attached his lips to your clit, sucking with all of his might. His tongue flicked over your sensitive bud, teeth grazing it. His name flowed from your mouth as you humped down onto him, trying to snap the tightly wound coil that has been building up since you guys began. He pushed his fingers in a little deeper, twisting them and curling them right where you wanted him. This sent you flying over the edge, cussing and moaning as your orgasm hit you like a bus. He coaxed you through it, slowing his attack and letting you come down gently.

You slide off of his face, laying down in the bed beside him, still panting. Rolling over on your side, you nuzzle in his neck, placing your hand on his broad chest and basking in your post-orgasm glow. A nice familiar haze settled over you, happiness and lust blurring together.

“Thank you Eiji, that was amazing.” you breathed. He laughed lightly when he turned to you, a pleased expression on your face.

“Of course, I don’t know who enjoyed it more, me or you.” He smiled, fond thoughts of you racing his mind. You kiss his neck, flitting around and placing butterfly pecks all over him. He giggles at your antics, rubbing your back encouragingly.

“I love you, you know that right?” he asked, kissing your forehead and tilting your chin up so you would meet his eyes. You beamed up at him.

“I love you too”

#bnha eijiro kirishima #bnha #bnha smut #bnha x reader #mha smut #kirishima eijirou #kirishima #plus size #chubby reader

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floralseokjin · 4 years

Text

⤑ 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…

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

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imaginedreamwrite · 2 years

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Travel Tuesday, exciting! I've actually been thinking of our Alpha's in LD and how much they need a stress free get away... Maybe reader finds a wedding invitation from a friend, Sam maybe? And plans a roadtrip for her and her boys down to Louisiana with stops along the way. Of course Steve is surprised and excited and maybe Buckys a little grumbly cause its Sam and this 1 day flight in and out turned into a whole week. Like Bucky, it's a week with your alpha & omega and a couple days in the middle with Sam. Which we know you secretly love as a best friend. 😆 We may need to promise a few sexual favours along the way, which gives him an idea of more road trips in the future because he has to be with his omega at least once in every state and then they'll worry about the world 😅

“You cancelled our flight in favour of driving down to Louisiana for a wedding?” To say Bucky was perplexed and irritated that their private flight had been exchanged for a road trip.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Your eagerness was unbound, your excitement to make stops and make an entire week of the trip instead of two days, had grown on Steve and he had jumped ship with a single glance from you.

“And all this for Sam?” Bucky scoffed and rolled his eyes, another surge of aggravation centred on the man both you and Steve had been taken by.

“Sam’s a good person and his fiancée is so sweet!” You argued against Bucky and sidled up to Steve, pulling him close to whisper something in his ear, the whispered musings drawing Bucky’s ire.

“What’re you two talking about?” Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed and his lips became pursed. “Omega-“

“Cut the attitude, put a smile on your face and little omega here said she’ll let you take her a different way, any way you want, in every different state we cross.” Steve’s smile was electrifying and so was the promise of Bucky getting his omega pliant for him.

Bucky drew his tongue against his bottom lip, already thinking of what position he was going to put you in first. He was already thinking of how he could mould you to his will, how he could completely devour you anyway he wants or needs for every state you cross.

“Fine. We’ll take a road trip but if you end up fucking me over…” Bucky warned with a hiss as you skipped from Steve to him, and pressed your hands against his chest.

“Oh alpha,” you leaned in and purred in his ear, “you’re the one that’s going to end up fucking me.”

#lion’s den series: travel Tuesday #traveltuesday ask day #travel Tuesday #lion’s den series: ask day drabble #lion’s den drabble

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rebrandedbard · 3 years

Text

@greyduckgreygoose Tumblr ate your ask when I tried posting it two minutes ago. You requested prompts 5 or 6, which I choose to read as 5 and 6. Stay tuned for prompt 6 in the future. If you like this, perhaps I’ll make it more Valdo. Whump or healing—you pull the trigger, goosey. Or perhaps I’ll use prompt 6 for some Filavandrel fun. Let me know.

5. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

tw: alcohol, depression

WC: 1600 even. Whoo! Even hundredth place! Two goose eggs!

A Good Man

Geralt meets Valdo Marx while taking a contract on a ferry, protecting its passengers from an unknown threat on the water. Valdo himself is an unknown threat, until the two of them get to talking, and Geralt learns a quiet truth.

Geraskier. One-sided Valdo/Jaskier

Valdo Marx, troubadour of Cidaris, was the last person Geralt expected to meet on the ferry from Brugge. Per Jaskier’s rambling, he’d assumed the bard stayed put, living it up in Oxenfurt or Cidaris—Geralt was never quite sure if Cidaris were his home or simply a place he’d chosen for his adopted title. He’d wondered if Jaskier were a ‘Bard of Thereabouts,’ but he was never curious enough to ask where-abouts. They both travelled so much, Jaskier could be from anywhere. Something told him that Jaskier would choose Lyria if asked; the name was lyrical.

But Geralt supposed bards were of a travelling nature after all. Besides, the ferry down the Yda was the fasted way to travel inland from Brugge to Craag An, and just beyond was the Adalatte. A straight shot through Kerack would have Marx home in Cidaris in no time at all, and people with coin to spare liked to hurry to and fro in laid-back comfort. It was a paradox Geralt often found amusing.

He paid no fare for his ride, having been hired on for protection. It would seem that, of late, people were disappearing from the ferry before reaching their final destination, reaching a much more final destination than anticipated. Drowners, probably. Sirens were less likely, but not entirely out of the realm of possibility. The channels were connected to the ocean; something could have come washing downriver. It wasn’t altogether unheard of to find displaced sirens after the summer rainstorms. If asked which he’d be more likely to meet, Geralt would have chosen sirens before Valdo Marx.

Geralt recognized him as a bard from the off: it was impossible to mistaken anything so brightly decorated. True, the man did not carry his lute about his person as Jaskier would, but he wore the uniform of satin, the season’s colors all in coordination and too impractical for the weather. It was a mark of their trade, their plumage like birds of paradise and that theatrical air.

Well, the atmosphere around Marx was less the foppish theatrics Geralt had come to expect. He did not saunter across the deck wooing a crowd, nor reciting poetry. He did not do much of anything to draw attention to himself. In fact, he was quite unlike anything that made up Geralt’s image of bards, drawing back against the bulwark, completely silent. Like a fool, Geralt presumed they would go all the way to Craag An without confrontation, but it would be a snowy day in the desert before bards acted predictably.

It was late afternoon the second day on board when he approached, the sun falling low, bringing on the evening. Geralt was keeping watch at the stern: if anything was about it would be disturbed, knocked back as the ship made headway, clawing its way onto the deck from the rear. Geralt kept to the lower main deck, closest to the water. If anything came crawling up from below, he would be in position to dispatch it. The passengers aboard had likely been warned beforehand, or else they’d heard the rumors, as they stayed on the upper deck and bow. With the lower deck abandoned, he easily read Valdo’s approach from a distance.

“White Wolf?” he asked, leaning casually a few feet away from Geralt. The question was monotone, almost disinterested, but he would not have come if there had been no reason.

There was nothing else to do and, truth be told, Geralt was bored. So he turned to Valdo and nodded. “Geralt,” he replied. He’d never quite grow used to the fanciful title, but it brought him good business. It made him recognizable, and therefore comfortable, in so much as anyone could be comfortable around a witcher. Reputations had influence.

“Valdo Marx. I’m sure you heard of me.”

Geralt hummed. There was something in his manner of speech. It was not an obnoxious flaunt of his fame: there was something resigned in it. Bitter, perhaps. It was the same tone Lambert used to say, “There was a wraith in Gulet. I’m sure you’ve already heard.” It had taken a witcher down from the school of the viper. The tone implied notoriety.

For a while, they did not speak. The only sound came from the water below lapping against the side of the ship. Geralt waited, glancing at the troubadour once more before he turned his attention back to the water. He supposed that had been it, a simple acknowledgement. People were often curious, coming to him only to confirm his identity as Jaskier’s witcher. It was a title he’d grown comfortable with more quickly than the White Wolf. It was truer, and he smiled to himself when he thought of such instances in private.

“You’re a right lucky fuck,” Valdo muttered.

Geralt looked up again from the water. He turned to examine Valdo silently, wondering what, exactly, Valdo thought he had going for him to mark him as lucky.

Valdo stared back at him, looking tired and severe. “Maybe I would have had better luck if I didn’t talk so much,” he continued. “If I didn’t sing … ”

“Bards are supposed to sing,” Geralt replied. He now wished Valdo would go back to the upper deck. Nothing aggravated him quite like people who refused to get to the point. He scented an undercurrent of hostility in the air. That, and an abundance of vodka.

Valdo produced a flask from his jerkin and gave it a swig. “Never was trying to be a bard,” he muttered. He took another sip, let it sit, then concealed the flask once more. It occurred to Geralt that the man’s leaning was not entirely owed to false causality.

Geralt knew not what to say. So he simply said, “Hm.” He heard the knuckles crack in Valdo’s tightening fist.

“Melitele’s tits. Years of poetry and songs, and you come along with your … ‘hm,’” Valdo mocked, “and that’s it. Not even a melodic hm. Just … hm.” He raked his fingers through his hair, hissing through his teeth in frustration. He was muttering something under his breath, but it was incoherent, even to a witcher’s ears. When Valdo looked up again, his eyes were red. Neither that, nor the sour note in the air were owed to the alcohol, Geralt surmised.

“He won’t love you,” Valdo said. “He can’t. He doesn’t hold on to things that way. You’re just—” he flapped a hand, searching for the word “—a fascination. You’re something shiny and new. He’ll forget about you the moment he leaves your bed.”

“Who?”

“Who the fuck do you think, witcher. Don’t mock me,” Valdo snapped, voice cracking. If he didn’t look so pathetic, if his words did not carry such weight, Geralt might have chuckled to hear Jaskier’s infamous rival croak unprofessionally. It was not flattering of bards. But there was nothing funny in what he said, nor in how he said it.

“Wait a minute,” Geralt said. He had said less than ten words to the man, none of them mocking in the slightest, and he meant to say as much.

But Valdo held up a hand to silence him. The broken man slipped down to the deck, curling against his knees, head bowed. When he spoke, he mumbled against his knees, fingers tangling in his hair. “I went to Oxenfurt for him. I chased after him for so long, watching him fall in and out of stranger’s beds for less than a wink. But all he wanted me for … he only met me on the stage. Irked if I played below standard, livid if I won. Try what you will, there’s no pleasing Jaskier.”

Geralt thought he understood him then. “Are you jealous?” he asked.

Valdo lifted his head enough to meet his eye. His cheeks were wet, shining in the fading light. “Are you Jaskier’s witcher?”

“Yes,” Geralt replied.

“Then you have your answer.”

Geralt paused a moment. He approached Valdo slowly and lowered himself to his side. They sat together in silence, hidden in the shadow of the bulwark as the sun set behind. Valdo produced the flask again, offering Geralt a sip without a word exchanged. Geralt took the flask.

“Have you kissed him?” Valdo whispered.

“No.”

“Don’t. If he never kisses you, he might not leave.”

Geralt watched as Valdo finished the last of the vodka. “Did you?” he asked.

Valdo stared across the empty deck. “No,” he replied. “But I don’t count. He sings songs about you. I only exist to him three days a year at the bardic competition.”

“He talks about you,” Geralt offered. It was a poor comfort when one knew how Jaskier talked.

Valdo sighed and tucked away the empty flask. He stood on unsteady legs, turning back toward the stairs to the upper deck. “I know. I have a rough idea what sort of man you must think I am from his gossip.”

“I don’t hold with gossip.”

“No,” Valdo chuckled. “Your kind wouldn’t.” It wasn’t an insult, but empathy. There was an understanding between them on that mark. “I wanted to find out for myself what kind of a man you were to entice him so. I hate to think I see it.”

“What do you think you see?”

“A man. One whose best friend’s first wish would be to strike death upon his rival, and knowing him, would allow that rival to approach him without preconceptions. Who would share a flask with a sobbing drunkard and listen earnestly. A good man, in short. So ... hatefully good.”

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lifeofkaze · 3 years

Text

Cherry Blossoms

Neville Longbottom x Reader

A/N: Dear @nevilles-top you picked 🌸 and that’s what came of it. Enjoy Wifey C, love you loads 💛💚

Warning: NSFW, +18 only, exhibitionism (kinda?)

Word Count: ~ 1.900

Her neighbours had no decency.

Mrs. Poppy Wilson had always prided herself on living in a proper neighbourhood with proper families. But the new couple that had moved in next door had been a thorn in her side from the beginning. Well, they weren’t exactly new, they had moved in over a year ago; but they had been a source of aggravation ever since. Whenever she saw the two of them, they would touch each other, holding hands or even kiss in public. She wasn’t even sure they were married.

She was leaving her house on this egregiously hot day in late spring when the sound of cheerful whistling caught her attention. Peaking over the edge of her perfectly trimmed hedge, she saw her neighbour tending to blooming flowers in his front yard. Due to the heat, he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He looked perfectly scruffy and Mrs. Wilson stared at his exposed chest disdainfully, an indignant huff leaving her lips. Didn’t he care what people would think?

Startled at the sound, Neville Longbottom lifted his head and raised his hand in greeting with a mock smile as he saw his uptight old neighbour staring from beyond the edge of his garden. Not wanting to associate with the likes of him, Mrs. Wilson turned on her heel and marched off.

But Mrs. Wilson hadn’t been the only one observing the scene.

You watched the old hag make her way to her car before your attention turned back onto the sight unfolding before you. Neville had been working in the blazing heat for the better part of an hour now. You could see from your spot by the window kitchen how he wiped the sweat off his brow before lumping another sack of garden soil onto his worktable underneath the blossoming cherry tree dominating the place.

Neville had gotten the tree for you as a birthday present last year, because he knew how much you loved the sight of it in bloom. It had been way smaller back then, but of course Neville knew the odd trick to make it grow into a magnificent tree much faster than it would have under normal circumstances. It bloomed longer and brighter than others, often drawing wondrous glances from people passing by.

You watched in awe as he expertly tended to the plants he had been growing over the course of the winter. A shiver ran down your spine as you saw how tenderly he handled the small seedlings, imagining how his rough hands would feel on your heated skin right now.

Neville was fully concentrated on his task, the tip of his tongue, which you knew he could work wonders with, slightly peeking out between his luscious lips. Not being able to withstand his gravity any longer, you grabbed two glasses and a jug of lemonade, carefully bearing your charge outside on a tray.

His face instantly lit up as he saw you approaching. He gracefully accepted the drink you offered him, gulping the first glass down in mere seconds. You could imagine how hot his flushed skin must be from working in the sun, the speckled shadows of the branches of the cherry tree not casting a lot of shade.

As he poured himself another glass, he caught you staring.

“What?” he smirked, his mouth curving into that crooked smile that never failed to make your stomach dip.

“Nothing,” you mumbled, blushing a bright red. To overplay the situation, you hastily set your glass to your lips, letting the cool drink wash down your throat in deep gulps.

You heard Neville chuckle deeply as he set down his own glass, moving over to you.

“Someone seems thirsty today.”

You almost spit out your drink again. Coughing from surprise, you couldn’t help but stare at his lean arms that crossed in front of his chest. You didn’t get that kind of muscles from working out; they were shaped by the hard physical work Neville loved to do so much.

Noticing you were staring again, you knew you might as well be honest. “Can you blame me? I mean, look at you all being topless and scruffy like that,” you whined.

Neville’s smile widened and his eyes sparkled with amusement. “I meant the drink,” he laughed.

As he saw the shade of your face deepen, he reached for the belt you wore to cinch your dress in and hooked his finger under it, pulling you towards him.

“But if that is what you need...”

He didn’t finish his sentence but you wouldn’t have listened anyway. Your breath hitched as you felt Neville’s breath against your ear, then his lips on your neck as his mouth planted light, feathery kisses on your skin.

You sighed appreciatively at the tingling he left on your skin before you turned your head around to meet his lips. The kiss was tender at first, but it quickly deepened, desire rising in both of your chests. Neville moaned against your mouth as you nipped his bottom lip, grabbing you by the waist and turning you around. Without breaking your contact, he steered you backwards until your back hit the wooden wall of the tool shed next to the cherry tree.

A gasp escaped you as Neville’s hands travelled down your sides, firmly gripping your thighs and hoisting you up, now only held up by his body and the shed behind you. You wrapped your legs around him and buried your hands in his hair, feeling his growing erection press against you.

The support he gave you suddenly shifted as he let go of one of your thighs to nestle with the clasp of your holder-neck dress. It quickly came undone and Neville lost no time in pulling it down, exposing your bare chest to the sunlight. You dipped your head back as his tongue teasingly played with one of your nipples, while a gentle breeze caressed your bare skin.

“What about the neighbours?” you barely manage to rasp out, concentration rapidly dwindling at Neville gently sucking on your tits.

“They’re out,” Neville hummed, the vibration of his words making you shudder.

All your concerns were drowned in a cry of pleasure as Neville’s hand pushed the hem of your dress up further and let this thumb run over your clit through the fabric of your panties. He knew exactly how to touch you to drive you absolutely mad.

Your hands still tangled in his hair gripped tighter and you bit down on where his shoulder and his neck connected; not hard, but hard enough to coax a hungry groan from your man.

There was nothing but heat now, around you from the blazing sun, inside you from the rhythmic circles Neville’s skilled fingers were drawing. As he noticed your squirming against him, he withdrew his hand.

“Slowly now, doll,” he growled into your ear. “I don’t want to miss out on all the fun.”

He set you down to let you remove your panties. You immediately grabbed his hand, pulling him into the direction of the door to the shed. You didn’t think you could wait any longer to feel him inside you.

But Neville didn’t move. He pulled you back towards him, the fly of his jeans now open; he hadn’t pulled his trousers down more than he had to. At the sight of his hard cock waiting for you, you bit your lower lip, anticipation coursing through your body like an electric surge.

“Come on, now,” you whined impatiently, but Neville shook his head.

“The weather’s beautiful darling. I want to feel the sun on my back when I do you in by every trick in the book.

With that his arms encircled you again. He pushed you back against the wall and groaned as you propped one of your legs up on the nearby table, granting him unobstructed access to your dripping pussy.

“What are you waiting for then?” you moaned, knowing full well how to turn your man on even more.

With a flash in his eyes, Neville buried his face in your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin as he pushed his cock inside you. By now, you were so wet for him, he didn’t lose any time by waiting for you to adjust, but started pounding into you in a demanding rhythm that took your breath away.

The breeze from before had picked up, sending a shower of light pink flowers down on you. You would have laughed at the cheesy scenery of you being fucked by Neville in a whirl of blossoms, but you didn’t even notice.

Everything around you had faded, everything but Neville and the way your laboured breaths came in unison with the grinding of your bodies against each other. Your head swam with passion, and you raked your nails across Neville’s bare back as you felt your release draw nearer.

After a few more thrusts the knot that had been building inside your stomach was close to bursting, when you suddenly heard the door of a car slam shut and the unmistakable scuffing step of your nosey neighbour drawing nearer.

You slowed down for a brief second, knowing full well the drama that would ensue if she saw the two of you getting it off in your garden.

But you were so close and Neville, sensing your hesitation, locked eyes with you, holding your gaze. He held a finger to his lips, motioning for you to be silent, all the while maintaining the constant rhythm of his thrusts.

He brought his hand down and laid it on your clit again, rubbing over your sweet spot with his thumb. You couldn’t keep it together any longer. Your orgasm exploded with might, the waves of pleasure making you shiver uncontrollably, threatening to drown you. You clung to Neville for dear life, your head filled with his scent of earth and sunscreen and passion.

Neville silenced your muffled cry of pleasure with a searing kiss, your body shuddering against him and the feeling of your walls tightening around his cock sending him over the edge as well. He groaned against your mouth, all care forgotten.

Mrs. Wilson was annoyed.

Not only had she missed her train into town and had been forced to return home early, she was still flustered at the audacity of her neighbour’s shirtless gardening antics.

When she entered her front yard, she furrowed her brow. If she hadn’t known any better, she could have sworn she had heard a muffled scream from the other side of the thick hedge separating their gardens.

What were those unruly people up to again?

With determination she marched to the spot where she knew the foliage of the hedge was thin enough to look through.

And sure enough, as she peeked through the bushes, she saw her neighbours both outside now, sitting at the wooden worktable under their outrageously blooming cherry tree. They were sipping lemonade and stole kisses now and again.

She huffed indignantly, the sound of it drawing their attention. As they saw her face through the gap in the hedge, they raised their glasses in salute, laughing more happily than they had any right to.

As they started kissing again, Mrs. Wilson turned around and rolled her eyes.

She’d had enough of these people.

No decency whatsoever.

#neville longbottom smut #get better soon wifey c

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