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mercy-burning · 3 years

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Honeybee

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: While attending Seraphina's wedding, Y/N discovers that her crush on her best friend’s older brother hasn’t gone away after all these years. Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, alcohol consumption, fingering, penetrative/protected sex Word Count: 5.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: I know I promised a oneshot over the weekend, but I’m a messy, inconsistent bitch, so you get it a day late 😅🥰

———

Looking back, I was starting to wonder if Seraphina only got engaged and asked me to be her maid of honor just to witness my slow descent into a heaping puddle of lovesick mush.

Truly, it was pathetic.

Yeah, yeah, she was getting married because she loved her fiancé and whatever, obviously, but she was also using it as an excuse to try and get me to admit my feelings for her older brother. Feelings, I might add, that only surfaced when I was a middle schooler and went away once he went off to college.

Sure, I'd thought about him on occasion when he was inevitably brought up around Sera's house throughout the years, but that was it. I'd hardly say I was hard-core in love with him. And I was totally prepared to see him for the first time since our high school graduation.

At least, I thought I was.

And Seraphina—the little shit—knew it, too. The smirk on her face the moment we were all in the same room for the first time in ten years made me want to run and hide more than her brother's figure, right in front of me and hotter than ever.

I was mad. Not at Sera as much, because really there was nothing she could do about the fact that he was her brother, but I was mad at myself. Because how in the hell had it stood to reason that a man I actively didn't think about for a whole decade had this much of an effect on me after all this time?

Honestly? I blame the FBI.

If he'd done literally anything else with his life I probably could have made it. Well, not by much if we're being honest, but come on...

Where he'd been a bit nerdy and reserved as I knew him, the man in front of me had clearly changed. Not just physically, though that was also a pleasant surprise. He looked like he'd been through some shit... And he carried himself taller. There was a new air of confidence that perched on his shoulder and helped him along as he talked with old friends and family members at his sister's rehearsal dinner.

Spencer Reid was older and more experienced this time around, and somehow even more goddamn delicious...

I was a total wreck. And it was about to get a whole lot worse.

He was coming this way. Right for me. He'd noticed me staring at him all night, because I couldn't keep my shit together, and now I was absolutely doomed.

Guess it was a good thing I'd practically grown up with him and knew how to act outwardly.

Still, the moment he was up close and flashing me that little smile of his, I felt the pit of my stomach scream out loud, sending shockwaves through my bloodstream.

"Hey, Honeybee. It's been a while."

Fuck. That fucking nickname...

"Spencer... It has."

When we hugged briefly, I tried as hard as I could not to inhale his scent, knowing that not only was that pathetic and embarrassing, but also I'd never stop smelling it otherwise. I did take note, though, of how strong he was now. He wasn't a bodybuilder of any kind, but he was certainly less bony and more defined.

I had to hold back a whine as I felt him let go of me, because I didn't want to leave his warm embrace but also because I didn't think I could stand to look at his face anymore without losing any and all semblance of my cool.

Still, I let him release me, and even then he didn't go far. We only stood inches apart, and my whole body was practically numb at the proximity. It also didn't help that I had to tilt my head up to see his face— It made me feel extremely submissive, and I could already feel myself starting to shrink.

Whether he was amused at that or just at me in general, the feeling I got was the same.

"Sera tells me you've been busy..." He paused, seemingly searching for the right word, though I could tell he already had it on the tip of his tongue. "Modeling?"

I closed my eyes with a sigh. "It was one job for some obscure European magazine, no one in the country's probably ever heard of it... It's not that big of a deal."

Spencer huffed a laugh. "You sound embarrassed..."

How was I supposed to respond to that? If I lied and told him I wasn't embarrassed, he'd figure it out, and if I told him the truth? I'd still be screwed. Honestly, my best bet was changing the subject.

Though, maybe it wasn't— When I asked him about his travels for work, he ignored it and responded with, "Ah, so you are embarrassed."

"N— I am not!"

"You changed the subject so fast I barely had time to blink... There's nothing to be ashamed of, Honeybee, I don't know why you'd—"

"Look, dude, I'm not ashamed, and I'm certainly not changing the subject. We were on the subject of jobs. So there."

I was aware of how childish I sounded, but I stood my ground nonetheless. And thankfully Spencer seemed to let it go, though not without amplifying that amused sparkle in his eye.

"Okay... Well, I've got some more people to see, but, uh... I'll see you around. Maybe you can show me some of your work."

He didn't even give me time to protest. Though if he had, I was sure I wouldn't have been able to get any words out what with that goddamned face he had, twisted and sculpted into all these beautiful ways that were designed specifically to make me a blubbering hot mess.

I could only gather the courage to nod in response, though he'd turned his back and walked away by the time I got it out.

———

All things considered, I'd managed to avoid him for the majority of the wedding festivities. I focused all my energy on being happy to see my best friend get married, and likewise it seemed that Spencer was inclined to do the same.

He walked his sister down the aisle, and seeing them both so happy truly made my heart sing. To think I'd known them since we were all kids more or less, and now they were both successful, beautiful human beings... It warmed me to my core, and despite the other flames that stung my insides at seeing Spencer in his tux, thing were going swimmingly.

That being said, we were just about two hours into the reception, and there was absolutely nothing stopping me from begging Seraphina to put me out of my misery.

Except maybe pints upon pints of alcohol.

In hindsight, that may not have been a good idea, though. Because as much as the open bar had it benefits, it also hated me. It was mostly my fault, because I was stupid enough to forget that I get frisky when I'm drunk, but that didn't stop me from blaming the bartender for continuing to serve me.

I wasn't quite at the point of all-out inebriation, but I was definitely toeing the line between tipsy flirting and total disaster.

And when Spencer came over to ask me to dance, I knew I was doomed.

I didn't find myself caring about what he was saying, only the fact that he was there, in front of me, putting his hands on me and breathing in the same air that I was putting out. My entire body buzzed, and while I would have panicked otherwise, my tipsy brain welcomed the tingle and made me a bit bolder.

"You enjoying yourself tonight?" he asked, like he couldn't already tell that I was having the time of my life.

"No way. You suck at dancing." The joke rolled off my tongue with ease, a product of years spent teasing him for countless things.

And just like all those times before, he rolled his eyes and then immediately flashed an affectionate smile all the same.

I should have stopped there, maybe tried to do something a bit more romantic like teach him how to dance... Placing his hands and fixing his posture, taking the time to gracefully have an excuse for exploring his body with my hands...

But romance took a backseat when I pressed myself in even closer to him and hummed just under his jawline. "Mmm, but I bet you're good at other things..."

I felt his hands grip my waist just a little tighter, and his throat visibly twitched. "How much have you had to drink, Honeybee?"

"Spencer," I whined, pressing my face into his neck. "Don't tell me you're turning me down, please..."

I could tell by the way he was touching me, his hands wavering and undecided, and the way his heartbeat thrummed loudly and quickly against my own that he wanted nothing more than to entertain my desires.

The thought made me quiver and press further into him. I kissed his jawline tenderly, silently begging him to whisk me away and finally make me his, but it broke my heart a little to feel him peel away from me.

When he looked into my eyes though, I swore the gleam in his own is what put me back together. It could have been the liquor swimming around in my body that made me feel lightheaded, but when Spencer lifted my chin with his fingers and looked me over, I knew that wasn't it. It was wholeheartedly, without a doubt, him.

"Tell you what... You get sobered up by the end of the night, and maybe I'll come find you."

I wanted to nod, but his gentle grip on my chin held me steady—At least until he glided his fingertips down my throat and over my shoulder. Then I downright slumped forward with a whine and a weak nod that seemed to make him smile.

"Thank you for the dance," he said earnestly, leaning forward to press the lightest of kisses to my temple.

Just like that he was gone, and I wanted him back almost immediately.

———

And so the night dragged on, and the longer I sobered up the more it dawned on me what the fuck just happened— What the fuck was going to happen, too, if I played my cards right.

It didn't help that I could practically feel Spencer's eyes on me the whole time. Probably to make sure I really wasn't drinking anymore, a fact that only made this feel more real.

On top of it all, I was starting to lose count of the amount of men here who were trying to buy me drinks. Even if the one man I really wanted tonight hadn't given me a deal, I still wouldn't have accepted them, if only for the pathetic fact that I would have been trying to catch his attention instead.

So much for trying to convince myself I wasn't in love with him...

Was that really what it was? It had to be, right?

Either way, I was determined to find out, and that meant declining every flirtatious offer to drink and dance.

Unfortunately, Seraphina seemed to notice, even on the one day in her entire life she shouldn't have been thinking about anyone but herself. "You're not having fun," she pouted, plopping down next to me and handing me a shot. "Have fun."

I laughed and set the tiny glass down on the table. "I am having fun, I'm just... tired. And being hungover tomorrow does not sound fun."

"Mmm," she responded, visibly suspicious.

I didn't really know what to say to her to convince her not to be though, so I grabbed her hand and smiled. "You're having fun though, right? 'Cause I will not hesitate to kick someone's ass if you're not."

With a bellowing laugh mildly tainted with the smell of champagne, Seraphina squeezed my hand and leaned in close. "I'm having the best time. I couldn't be happier."

"Well, good. You deserve it."

After a small moment of silent shared smiles, my best friend glanced over elsewhere and then back to me with that look in her eye that kind of scared me.

And her words were even scarier... "So, you talk to Spencer at all tonight?"

"Uh— Yeah... Briefly."

"Mhmm... Y'know, I saw you two dancing together earlier. You seemed reeeally close..."

There I was, getting defensive in front of a Reid sibling for the second time that night. And just like before, I was awful at being subtle. "Sera, stop it! It was just a dance..."

"Bullshit! He had his hands all over you, and he had that gross-ass, dreamy-ass look in his eye! He so wants to sleep with you!"

"Sera!" I gently shoved her and tried not to smile at the goofy smile she had plastered on her face.

"Am I wrong?"

"I... I don't..."

"Ha! I'm not wrong!"

The defeated look in my eye did nothing to disconfirm her story.

"So, what's stopping you from letting him?"

I went wide-eyed. "Se—You... You seriously would... You're okay with this? It doesn't... gross you out?"

There were a lot of things I could have seen Seraphina do in that moment, but pinching and yelling at me were not any of them. "Y/N! You idiot! I've been trying to get you two together for years! If I knew all it took was me getting married, I would have accepted Theo Decker's proposal..."

"Wa— In fifth grade? Sera, that wasn't—"

"I know, but you get what I mean! You two are so painfully attracted to each other, it physically hurts me. It's actually disgusting, but if it means there's a chance that you might get to be my sister? I say go for it."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You... You really mean that?"

"What, you think I'd joke about that?"

Everything that she conveyed to me within the look in her eyes, her words, and the squeezing of her hand over mine told me she was sincere.

"I love you, you know," I told her just as sincerely.

Her smile was as radiant as ever, but the teasing tone in her voice was enough to make me scowl again. "Right back at'cha, Honeybee. Just do me a favor and don't tell me any details. I don't wanna know."

I stuck my tongue out at her, followed by a short shove. "Oh, and as soon as you get back from your honeymoon? I'm kicking your ass for telling him about that nude shoot I did for that magazine..."

She only grinned. "Why? I think I did you a favor..."

I rolled my eyes at her, but in the end, I guess she was right.

———

I shouldn't have been pacing. Really, it was pretty fucking embarrassing the way I walked in circles around my hotel room, waiting for a knock at the door or a text message on my phone, or something to let me know that Spencer had really meant what he said and was on his way to come find me.

I didn't have a single drink after we danced, and I swear to God, if he made me go through this entire night all nervous without the liquor to calm me down, for nothing? I was going to kill him tomorrow.

Later today... Whatever.

The point? I was well and truly ready to feel him taking up my personal space, and I was going to feel like a real idiot if I waited around and prepped and everything, only for him not to show. The funny thing was, it was almost two in the morning, and I would have stayed up until the sun rose for him.

Thank God he had the decency to save me the trouble.

A short two-rap knock on the door made me jump, but I ran at it full-speed, flinging the large wooden panel open and letting its momentum blow cool wind over my body. And I needed it, too.

Because standing right in front of me was Spencer Reid in all his semi-exhausted glory. His outfit was loosened, buttons undone and bowtie untied, hanging limp around his neck. His hair sat wild atop his head and a thin layer of sweat coated his skin. Maybe that last part sounded gross, but looking at him? It was anything but.

Especially when he flashed me that damned smirk. "Someone's eager..."

I tried not to sound as dumbfounded by his presence as I felt. "Well, you made me a good offer I couldn't refuse. Excuse me for being excited."

"And here I thought all this time you hated me, Honeybee..."

"That would be easier, wouldn't it?"

His grin transformed into a full-on beaming smile then, and it only made my skin feel warmer and my heart beat faster. I returned his smile with my own, so genuinely happy to see him again after all this time, and with the brightest show of happiness I'd ever seen.

Turns out, smiling like a lovesick idiot was all I was capable of.

"Are you... gonna let me in?"

The low suggestive tone in his voice had me springing into action, stepping back and allowing him the space to come in. And though he had plenty of room, Spencer still decided to brush his body over mine as he passed. His eyes bore into my own as he gently kicked the door shut and enveloped us in a dimness that came from cheap hotel lighting.

Still, I was unable to speak, and hardly able to even breathe, with each passing second.

And then, his hands were on my waist, pulling me to him with a softness that matched the whisper in his throat as he said, "C'mere..." Looking up at him then, his fingers burning holes through the thin fabric of my dress while he looked back down me, eyes swimming in tender desire... It almost didn't even feel real.

And it certainly didn't feel real when he leaned in, one of his hands coming up to touch my face while the other pressed me firmly against him.

The moment his lips touched mine, I was gone. I positively melted into him, so much so that it felt like I was just becoming a part of him entirely, losing myself in the moment and unwilling to let it go.

Even when he sighed against my lips and parted his own to kiss me deeper, I just followed suit and let him take the lead. We moved together as one, fluidly and with as much eagerness was possible. I'd wanted to get a taste of him for so long, and he obviously felt the same way, what with the thorough and precise exploring his tongue did with my own. It shot warmth throughout my whole being, and my legs threatened to buckle underneath me from how weak they felt.

Spencer seemed to understand what was happening to me, because as soon as I'd thought it, he was just as quick to literally sweep me off my feet, scooping me up bridal style and carrying me over to the large bed in the middle of the room.

"I know we're at a wedding and all, but geez," I laughed, watching as he laid me down gently and crawled over my body. "A little much?"

He only rolled his eyes. "Well, excuse me for trying to be romantic..."

"Mmm, I think you're just being an overachiever. As per usual."

That remark earned me a pinning of my wrists above my head, and the fire that erupted in my very core at my current position only cemented that this was very real.

Spencer grinned, his hips coming down to roll over mine teasingly. He spoke nice and slowly, his voice slicing through my soul like smooth butter. "Oh, Honeybee, I'll show you an overachiever..."

Once again I was rendered speechless. Not like I expected to be talking his ear off or anything, but words genuinely escaped me.

Luckily, Spencer didn't seem to mind. In fact, he knew exactly what to do next, and it made me even hungrier for him than ever before.

He captured my lips in another dizzying kiss, his hands still flexing over my wrists to keep them steady. I moaned softly and writhed against him, and though I would have liked to say that it was a conscious choice to coax him to give me more, really it was just me being unable to handle the fact that this was actually happening.

Actually, if not for the overwhelming and familiar scent of him, I would have thought I was only imagining it.

But alas, here he was in all his floral peppermint glory, grinding his hips down into mine and kissing me like I'd never been kissed before, driving me mad with each adept movement.

Thankfully he seemed to get as lost in the moment as I was, because he loosened my wrists in his grip, and I broke free, flying my hands in between us and down to his belt.

His lips pulled away from mine with a soft smack, a smile forming smugly upon them. "Have you no patience?"

As my fingers fumbled with the metal and leather, I pressed my nose to his and quickly pecked his mouth. "I thought we already established that I have no patience the moment I opened the door..."

"Fair... But still..."

Spencer grabbed my hands again, moving them to my sides and then hiking my dress up slowly. His skin was hot against my own, and it took everything I had not to break down begging for him.

And then he spoke again, his lips barely grazing mine as he did. "Teasing you is so much fun..."

I couldn't really explain what sound escaped me then, but it reminded me of a disgruntled animal, erupting from my throat and getting muffled the moment I took my hands and brought his face to mine. I kissed him fervently as his hands matched the intense nature of my affections— With every soft groan I gave him, he returned it with an inch higher up my leg, until eventually he was toying with the hem of my underwear.

Unable to take it anymore, I gave in and mumbled the most desperate plea I could think of. (Like I had to think that hard...)

"Spencer, please..."

I half expected him to tease me again, but this time I felt him tremble over my body. His fingers slipped under the satin of my underwear and he sighed into my mouth. "God, how could I ever say no to you..."

No sooner had the words left his mouth did he spread me apart with his fingertips, getting a feel for me and a broken sigh falling from his tongue and onto my own. I captured it and kissed him with as much precision as I could while under the influence of his hands working wonders.

Truly, his hands hand a magic of their own that should have been considered as an eighth Wonder of the World. They flexed in all the right places, splitting me open and caressing the most sensitive parts of me, simultaneously breaking me apart and putting me back together...

God, and those was only his hands...

The thought of what else he had waiting for me made me cry out into his mouth, though I'm sure it also had to do with the fact that his fingers were curling expertly inside me and summoning an orgasm that I knew would satisfy us both.

I almost cried out again when his lips left mine, but then they travelled to my neck and paid it the most glorious attention. The alternation of his fingers and his tongue on different spots of my body had me in shambles, and it took no longer than a few seconds to snap.

"Fuck, that's my girl," Spencer grumbled into my neck, helping me through my orgasm. "That's it, honey..."

What I wouldn't have given to hear him talk to me like that until the end of time... His words, their tone and praise seeping into my skin and bringing my soul to life... Coupled with his soft hands and his even softer breath fanning over my neck, I was just about ready to ask him to keep talking to me, to say my name and never stop.

He pulled away though, removing his hand from my lower half and bringing it up to his mouth, and I had the feeling my request wouldn't be a problem.

Spencer's eyes rolled back and his tongue gathered my arousal off his long, well-endowed fingers. And though I could hear his groan well and clear, I felt it more than anything. It reverberated through my body and brought me more to life in a way I never thought imaginable.

No one had ever made me feel that way with one single sound, and that's how I knew.

I thought I knew it from the start—from when we were growing up—that I wanted to be near him forever. But It was always just a silly dream, something I was never quite able to reach, and as I got older and we rarely saw each other, it got harder to even imagine anymore.

Now I didn't have to imagine.

Spencer Reid was right in front of me, touching me, tasting me, verbally praising me with sounds I'd only ever dreamed of...

I wanted him to have his moment, because I was positive he'd wanted this just as much as I did, but this sappy sort of revelation I was having made it nearly impossible to not be utterly wrapped up in him, and I wanted more.

So I wiggled and adjusted myself underneath him before grabbing his hand and placing it over my heart. His eyes widened softly at the sight of me, and I knew then that he was taking the time to memorize my face, and the image of his hand resting at my chest, right where my heart was encased beneath bones, flesh, and fabric.

"I could look at you forever," he whispered then.

I would have been ashamed to admit that I whimpered when he said it, but the way he looked at me afterwards made me feel the exact opposite.

He smiled, using his other hand to come up and touch my face. "You want it bad, don't you, Honeybee?"

I didn't even argue with him this time. My head nodded and my hands reached out to pull him closer. "I want you... More than I've ever wanted anything."

Before he leaned down to kiss me, I could have swore he looked like he was going to shed a tear. The duality of him, his ability to be all teasing and cocky one second and then reduced to a lovesick mess at just a few words from me the next, made my heart sing.

And it kept singing, a sweet, steady melody as Spencer kissed me and touched me like he meant it.

Only this time, he didn't pause or tease me with theatrics. He went straight for the kill, fetching a condom from his pants pocket and then sliding the material down, all while keeping me trapped under his embrace. I welcomed it naturally, humming happily into his neck and jawline and anywhere I could reach as he got us both fully undressed and situated, until finally he had the condom on and his hands rested nicely on either side of my head.

"Promise not to sting me?"

I laughed, draping my arms over his shoulders and flashing him a wink. "Mmm, only if you promise to give it to me good..."

"Deal."

He slowly pushed into me then, and the stretch was far more satisfying than his fingers, though I was in no position to complain either way. If he was even half as skilled with his hips as he was with his hands (which I had no doubts about whatsoever), then neither of us had anything to worry about.

It didn't take long for us to find our rhythm, but I didn't have time to think about that. I was so consumed with just the feeling of him being everywhere that technicalities didn't matter.

That being said, the technicalities were really fucking good.

His hips snapped into mine with sharp precision, and I felt it deep within my bones. My cunt clung around him willingly and accordingly, as did my legs, which hooked over his waist as I dug my heels into his ass.

Meanwhile Spencer grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head again, this time interlocking our fingers and then leaning down to kiss me deeply. It was met with my undying welcome, of course, but with the way he was fucking me, deep and with a devotion that nearly exploded my heart, I couldn't help but whine out for more.

His name was all I could manage.

"What do you want, Honeybee?" he cooed, holding himself deep inside me and grinding his hips in small circles that made it harder to breathe.

"M—More... I..."

"Can you be more specific?"

How he could be such a cocky little shit in this moment I wasn't sure, and it frustrated me to no end. He knew damn well what I wanted, and I knew just the thing that would make him give it to me.

I have him the biggest pout I could, also whining out the most pathetic, "More," in my arsenal. And with a roll of my hips up into his, I gasped out at how deep he got, and whined out again.

"Spoiled brat," Spencer grunted in defeat, retreating only to slam into me at full force.

My small gasps and cries turned into full-blown howls of searing pleasure as he fucked me then. My head tipped back and my back arched slightly, exposing my neck and chest to him, and he took it as an invitation to lean down and put his mouth anywhere he could reach. I was sure there would be small nicks and bruises littered over my skin the next morning, and just thinking of everyone seeing them, seeing Spencer's mark on me, made it harder to prolong the inevitable.

I came with a shout, flexing my hands into his as my body tensed then relaxed, over and over while he whispered praises into my skin. He followed soon after, shoving his face into my neck and muffling the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard as he came.

By then his hands had loosened, so I snuck my own away from his and brought them over to hug him close. One hand knotted into his hair while the other grazed over his back. The thin sheen of sweat forming over his skin once again was more enticing than it probably sounded, but I loved it all the same. I felt him relax and bring his arms down to rest at my sides, his fingertips dancing lightly over my skin and giving me goosebumps.

Then out of nowhere, he said something that confused and mildly panicked me. "I thought you said you wouldn't sting me..."

I pulled away to try and look at his face, loosening my grip on his body. "A—Am I hurting you? I'm sorry..."

He laughed though, peppering tiny kisses up my neck until he got to my jaw. "You're not hurting me, Honeybee... You've just... stung my heart, that's all."

"I... Is that a bad thing?"

"It's a strange thing..."

He looked at me like I was the one thing on the planet he adored, but his words sounded different.

I raised an eyebrow. "You're not helping me understand..."

With another laugh, Spencer Kissed my cheek and rolled off of me, settling for laying on his side and turning me to face him. "Do you remember how I gave you your nickname?"

Despite my confusion about all of this, I entertained him with a huffed laugh. "Yeah, I spilled honey all over my shorts without realizing it, and I had ants all over me in a matter of minutes. I was terrified."

"I was highly amused."

I shoved him. "Yeah, dork, I know you were! You and Seraphina both thought it was the funniest thing on the planet, and then your mom had to come out and spray me down with a hose before I came back in the house."

Spencer barked a laugh, and I wanted to punch it right out of his mouth.

"Tell me again why this is relevant to our current situation?" I reminded him with and sigh, already over his antics.

Thankfully he seemed to take pity on me; He reached a hand out and played with a strand of my hair, smiling even brighter than when I opened the door for him. "That's when I started to feel it. You were just... so cute all angry at me and Sera for laughing, and it... It changed everything."

"You know, that would be more romantic if I hadn't been covered in bugs," I responded with a laugh.

"It's true! And it confused the hell out of me, because how was I supposed to cope with the fact that I actually had a crush on my little sister's best friend like some stupid cliché? You were always so feisty after that, too, and it certainly didn't help... And when I graduated and went off to college, I thought... I thought there was no chance you would ever be able to break the heart you'd managed to steal."

He swiped his thumb gently over my bottom lip and smiled, his eyes going all tear-y again. It sent butterflies through my whole body.

"I would never even dream of breaking your heart, Spencer..."

Our foreheads pressed together then, and the unwavering adoration in his voice when he spoke made me forget all prior confusion and minor embarrassment over re-living our origins.

All that mattered was that he was here, holding me in his arms and making me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

"I know you won't, Honeybee."

———

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floralseokjin · 4 years

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⤑ made-up love song ii.

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

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

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

↪︎ chapter index

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

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

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

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

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

Damn it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I help?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, just about Arin really.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me?” You asked quietly.

He chuckled bashfully. “Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled. “Dinner sounds lovely.”

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

“Can I have your number to arrange everything?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“RJ?”

Seokjin chuckled. “Yeah, it’s cute.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrugged. “Yeah, thanking me."

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

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

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

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

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

You hadn’t felt like this since –

Since Donghae.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You deserved to find out, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She shrugged. “I’d read it.”

“What would you read?”

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

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

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

“Y/N’s date tonight,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Soojung wasn't helping.

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

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

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

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

“He’s not."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Don't make me –”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrugged. "You never asked."

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

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

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

"Soojung, I swear to god –”

"I won't wait up."

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was a date. It really was a date.

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

Oh god. How embarrassing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about now?”

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

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

“At the fate?”

“Nope.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey. I’m not that old,” he huffed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smirked. “I beg to differ.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lasagne?” He sounded interested.

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

Oh no.

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

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

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

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

He grinned. “Saturday sounds perfect to me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Girl is horny for that D–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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dameronology · 3 years

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love in the time of PTA meetings {marcus moreno} - 1/5

summary: despite what pinterest shows, being in a parent in the twenty first century is hard; especially a single parent. your kid takes up your entire life and the idea of finding a fairy tale is laughable - that is until you finally attend a p.t.a meeting and cross paths with a certain marcus moreno. {series masterlist}

warnings: i do not have children. i don’t know children work. this written entirely what i have seen them do in the sims 4. also, swearing.

- jazz

Leaving work early was never a good look.

Leaving work early because your child had managed to set fire to a trash can was...well, it was something else entirely.

After rushing out of a very important meeting and parking your car in a did-you-park-it-or-crash-it manner, you were sprinting across the play ground and towards the front entrance. Having given up half way through, you’d kicked your stupidly high heels off and held them in one hand, trying to organise your slightly disheveled hair as you entered the building. Most parents might have been nervous to collect their kid after a call from the principle, but this was a regular Tuesday for you. Jack was a good kid, perhaps just a little...misguided. In your books, it was impressive that a five year old had managed to discover pyrotechnics, though you sensed the school might have been a little less lenient about it.

‘Hey!’ You greeted the principle with a smile as you breezed through the doors.

Jack was in a chair by the front desk, a gleeful look on his face when he saw you. As far as he knew or cared, he got to go home early and watch Paw Patrol for the rest of the day.

‘Afternoon.’ He replied. ‘You’re lucky it was only a phone call.’

‘I know, I know.’ You grumbled. ‘I’m sorry. He’s...adventurous-’

‘ - he singed off his class mate’s eyebrows!’ The principle cut you off. ‘Given Monday’s biting incident, I see it fit that Jack take the rest of the week off.’

‘Right.’ You sighed. ‘Thank you. And sorry again.’

‘I’ll email you a list of...behavioural specialists.’ He muttered.

‘There’s nothing wrong with my kid. He’s just...curious.’ You insisted. ‘C’mon, buddy. Let’s go home.’

Jack sprung up from the chair, taking your hand in his and skipping out the door beside you. Parenting had been hard enough when you’d been married, and even harder now that his dad was out of the picture. It meant that everything fell on your shoulders; school runs, packed lunches, earning money, staying sane. You barely found the time to sleep, let alone go to soccer matches or take him to extra curricular activities. It meant that the stay-at-home mums - the ones who drove minivans and had specified walking shoes and shared memes about parenting on Facebook - muttered about you.

I heard Jack’s mum couldn’t make it to the parent-teacher association meeting because there was a divorce hearing.

Look at the kid’s lunch! Oh the saturated fat, the horror!

What do you MEAN your five year old isn’t vegan?!

Frankly, you wanted to whack them over the head with their own damn vision boards. So what if your kid was a little rough around the edges? He’d discovered fire today! If it had been in the stone ages, that would have been impressive. The kind of thing that would have earned him a McDonald’s, had the fast food chain been around at the dawn of time. With the way things were going, paired with the fact you knew your fridge was empty, it looked like you were heading for a Happy Meal anyway.

‘So do I get all week off?’ Jack peered up at you, tugging on your arm.

‘Yup, all week.’ You sighed. ‘But it’s not a reward, okay? It’s...’

You stopped in your tracks when you saw Marcus Moreno’s car pull up in the lot. Naturally, it was expensive and electric and perfectly between the white lines. He gave your less-than-stellar parking a frown as he breezed by - not that you noticed. Frankly, you were too busy admiring him. You saw his face more on the news than you did in person, but he was beautiful. Talk, dark, handsome and mysterious, but also...friendly and approachable. He’d held the door open for you once two years ago and that had been it for you. There had been whispers about the fact he was a widow, though you’d tried not to pay attention to them. It wasn’t anyone’s damn business. You knew he was a good dad; you’d had the chance to meet Missy when Jack had got his head stuck between the playground fence and she’d helped pull him out. She was sweet and well-behaved and clearly well brought up. Could you say the same for your own kid? Eh, parenting was all trial and error.

‘It’s what?’ Your son’s voice dragged you back to reality. ‘Am in trouble?’

‘What?!’ You jumped at the question. ‘No, I just...’

‘Because Principle Eikner said I’d done something bad.’

A small sigh escaped your mouth; placing his backpack on the ground, you knelt down to his height, gently placing your hands on his shoulder. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong, little man. We're just gonna take a few days out to talk about the rules and what it means to do the right thing, okay?’

‘Dad always said not to listen to the rules.’

‘Your dad said a lot of things.’ You reminded him. You stood back up, offering your hand to him. ‘Let’s go home.’

After a few minutes of bartering and the promise of a McDonald’s, you finally made your way back to the car, now with Jack attached to your back. If giving him a piggy back ride meant getting home quicker, it was a price you were willing to pay, especially since the other mums were starting to arrive to pick up their kids. The parking lot was slowly filling up with minivans - compared to your decade-old Honda Civic. It had seen better days, and one too many run ins with other cars and parking lot bollards. Still, it got the job done.

‘Oh, I’m so glad to see you!’ You froze in your tracks again. This time, it wasn’t because of Marcus Moreno’s otherworldly presence, but rather due to the sound of the resident soccer mum.

‘Carol.’ You turned around to face her (slowly, given the five year old on your back) with a forced smile on your face. ‘Hi.’

‘I take it you’re here for the parent-teacher’s association meeting?’ She gave you a phoney grin, handing you a leaflet. ‘I know you couldn’t make the last one, because of your...d-i-v-o-r-c-e hearings.’

‘I can spell!’ Jack chirped from behind you.

‘It’s okay, buddy.’ You reached up to ruffle his hair, smile not faltering. ‘But yeah, you’re right. And what about it?’

‘Nothing.’ Carol quickly shook her head. ‘So you are coming to this one? It starts in ten minutes.’

Truth be told, you’d no idea there was even a meeting tonight. You usually ignored the damn things until the news letter came out, and then you could read it from the comfort of your sofa with a glass of wine. There was nothing you stopping going tonight, aside from your intense hatred for them.

‘I wanna get home and watch South Park!’ Jack chirped from behind you.

‘I don’t - I mean...I don’t let my five year old watch South Park.’ You said. ‘He walked in on me watching it one time and...point is, yes, I’m here for the meeting!’

‘No, you’re not-’

‘- Jack, just sssh!’

Carol blinked in surprise, but her phoney smile returned a moment later. ‘Excellent! I’ll see you inside.’

You inwardly groaned. Why had you just done that? You fucking despised sitting in a stuffy gym for the better part of an hour, listening to the perfect mums bang on about healthy eating and limiting their kids’ internet time. You already questioned your parenting skills as it was - the meetings only made it worst. You didn’t assimilate into that crowd; they were all married, with big houses out in the ‘burbs and bank accounts that could cover their kids ever-expanding interests and activities. Meanwhile, you were living on one wage and your two-bedroom apartment had a balcony, not a back garden. If Jack wanted to go on a field trip, you usually had to save up for months. You didn’t know if you envied the other mums’ lives, but you certainly weren’t jealous of how they viewed working mums and single parents.

‘That lady is mean.’ Jack murmured from your shoulders.

‘Yeah buddy, I know.’ You nodded. ‘Guess we’re going back to school.’

Lugging the kid and his bag back up the school yard and towards the building was exhausting - at least it was your work out for the week done. By the time you’d reached the gym and placed Jack back on the ground, your shoulders were aching and you were disappointed to see that the refreshments didn’t have any alcohol. Was it too late to sneak out? The fire exit was right there and-

‘- shame this thing doesn’t have any wine, huh?’ A man was stood next to you, arms folded across his chest as he stared at the luke-warm jug of coffee on the table ahead.

Tall, dark hair, stubble and with a faint hint of expensive aftershave you pretended not to notice? Hello, Marcus Moreno. Goodbye, ability to form coherent sentences.

You blinked in surprise. ‘Yeah. I could do with a glass. Or ten.’

‘So you hate these things too, huh?’ He smiled.

‘With a passion.’ You returned the gesture. ‘I’m only here because Carol and her Karen Committee kept muttering about me not being at the last one.’

‘Yeah, same here. I was attending an emergency meeting about nuclear arms in Vienna, but I guess this is more important.’

‘I was...’ in court, signing documents to end my marriage, ‘otherwise occupied too.’

Marcus nodded in understanding. ‘Kids alone are a full time job, huh? ‘Specially when you’re the only one who’s running around after them.’

He knew about your situation and in return, figured that you knew about his. He’d heard the whispers about the divorce and presumed that the loss of his wife had been subject to similar gossip. The environment amongst the parents was shockingly similar to high school and things got around pretty quickly. You both hated it, especially given the nature of both your circumstances; death and separation was not something other people should have been talking about. Especially when you all you wanted to do was mind your own business and raise your damn (chaotic) kid.

‘Yeah, tell me about it.’ You replied. ‘My kid is like...a baby crackhead, as well. He’s been sent home twice this week and it’s only Wednesday.’

‘Oh, Jack’s your kid?’

You let out a groan, holding your face in your hands. ‘Yeah. Famously so, apparently.’

‘No, it’s not a bad thing!’ Marcus chuckled, pulling your hands away. ‘He played a brilliant baby Jesus in the Nativity last year.’

‘Aside from when he bit one of the three wise men, yeah.’ You could feel your cheeks heating up. ‘Missy actually helped him once. She seems really...not at all like my child. Which is good.’

‘She told me about the fence incident.’ He nodded. ‘May I ask why he was shoving his head out of the school gates?’

‘He saw an interesting looking slug.’ You replied.

Your conversation was interrupted by Carol, who had now climbed up on stage. She tapped the microphone and cleared her throat, gesturing to everyone to sit down so that the meeting could start. You wanted to curse her. Whatever giddy conversation you were having with Marcus was a thousand times more interesting than the PTA. At least you could revel in the fact he didn’t want to be here either.

‘Shall we?’ Marcus gestured to two empty seats a few rows back.

‘I mean, it’s an aisle seat, which is good for a quick escape if Jack decides to be Jack,’ you nodded in agreement. ‘Hey kid, c’mon!’

Turning away from the other kids, Jack sprinted towards you, hurling himself into your lap as he sat down. You let out an oof! and a groan. He wasn’t as light as he used to be a toddler. He stayed still for a moment, tiny hands clasping yours, before he realised who you were sat next to. The kids’ impression of Marcus was not quite the same as yours - he’d only seen him on TV, with the likes of all the heroes. You couldn’t remember their names (but in your defence, they were kind of ridiculous).

‘Are you a superhero?’ He reached up, poking Marcus in the cheek.

‘Jack!’ You hissed. ‘You can’t-’

‘- yeah, buddy.’ Marcus ruffled his hair. ‘But it’s my day off today, so I’m doing all this boring stuff instead.’

‘Can you fly? Do you know Miracle Guy? Have you fought aliens? Do you have a super suit? Do you know Iron Man? Wait! Can I be a superhero?!’

‘No, yes, yes, no, no and maybe when you’re older.’ He counted the questions off on his fingers. ‘But for now we have to keep quiet for the meeting. That would make you a superhero.’

You wanted to marry Marcus Moreno.

Seriously, you wanted to marry him.

His little comment had kept Jack quiet the entire meeting. And it was a long fucking meeting indeed. The last time he’d shut up for that long was...probably before he learnt to talk. You loved he was full of curiosity and questions, but he didn’t always understand that there was a time and a place. At least now you knew what would shut him up.

‘How does Miracle Guy fly? Is Batman real? Are you rich? Do you know Wonder Woman? How does her lasso of truth work?’

‘Jack.’ You groaned.

You were walking out of the school now and down towards the car park. Missy was in tow, tapping away on her phone, whilst Jack trotted alongside you and Marcus. He’d been spewing questions at the poor man pretty much since the meeting had ended - and yet, he seemed happy to answer them. Excited, even. It was clear that he loved his job.

‘You gotta give Mr Moreno a break, little man.’ You said.

‘Hey, just Marcus is fine.’ He replied.

‘Hey Just Marcus, I’m dad.’ Missy chimed from beside you, not even looking up from her phone. It was...impressive, actually.

‘I already regret buying her that.’ Marcus murmured.

The two of you eventually reached your cars. The Civic was still terribly parked across two spaces - you were a good driver, you’d just been in a rush. The dents and scrapes all over the doors and bumper implied other wise but hey, we move. You had a thousand and one other things to save up before a new car. Putting down the deposit on a house - one you could actually own, maybe a little further out from the city - was your number one concern. Paying off your divorce attorney came after that.

‘It was nice to meet you properly.’ You pulled your keys out your back, tugging four empty packets of crisps and three bags of gummy worms with it.

‘I’m not done asking questions-’

‘- you gotta let Marcus go, JJ.’ You peered down at Jack. ‘Sorry. He’s a little obsessed with the Heroics, but I guess you’ve worked that one out.’

‘Can I visit your base?’ He continued, ignoring you.

Marcus knelt down to his height, a grin on his face. ‘I’ve got a free window tomorrow afternoon. You wanna come by? Your mum tells me you’re off school for the rest of the week.’

‘Really?’ You blinked in surprise. ‘I mean, I’m sure he would love that but I’m at work and he’s gotta go to my mum’s.’

Your mother also doubled up as your baby-sitter. In an ideal world, you would have been able to afford a professional, but this was very much the opposite of an ideal world. It was the real world, and you were constantly juggling a thousand things at once. Never in a million years would you have changed it but there were days when you wanted to cry. When it was 9PM and Jack suddenly chimed in that he had a science project due the next day, or when he refused to eat his dinner because his chicken nuggets weren’t shaped like dinosaurs and fed them to the dog.

Marcus looked, on the surface at least, like he had his shit together. He worked in a public facing job and he always looked put together. His car wasn’t covered in bumps and bruises and the inside probably wasn’t covered in yoghurt like yours. He seemed as though he got more than five hours sleep a night and his child was well-behaved.

‘I’m sure we can work something out.’ He said. ‘If you give me your number, I’ll give you a call.’

‘Uh, yeah! Of course.’ He’d asked for your number. No big deal.

You switched phones - naturally, his was much more high-tech than yours - and entered in your respective numbers. The whole thing made you admire Marcus even more; he didn’t have to have your tyrannical son over to his office, yet he offered to. He’d clearly seen how excited he’d gotten and it seemed like he’d found it endearing.

‘Are you okay?’ Marcus asked quietly, suddenly putting his hand on your shoulder. ‘You suddenly zoned out.’

‘Yeah, sorry.’ You rubbed your eyes. ‘I got about three hours sleep last night. I would blame it on the terrible twos but I guess it’s the...fucking awful fives?’

He quickly turned his attention to Jack, opening the car door for him. ‘You wanna hop in? I’m just gonna talk to your mom about you visiting, yeah?’

'There’s Cheetos in the centre console!’ You called after him.

Once Marcus had shut the door, he turned around to face you. There was silence for a minute, and he just kind of...stared at you. You couldn’t read his expression or quite figure it out, but he had an eyebrow quirked and a look of...concern? Sympathy?

‘I recognise that look. It’s the help! I’m suddenly a single parent to a five year old and it feels like the world is eating me alive look.’ He said. ‘It’s the exact same one I had six years ago. Missy was about Jack’s age when...when it became just me and her.’

You softly smiled. ‘It’s not been easy.’

‘You’re doing a good job, okay?’ He gave your shoulder a light squeeze. ‘And if you ever need him off your hands for a few hours, I’ll gladly give him a tour of our headquarters.’

‘Thank you. So much, for both of those things.’ Your eyes fell to the ground. ‘It’s a refreshing change from Carol and her Pinterest boards and half-assed invitations to potlucks.’

‘God, I can’t stand all that.’ Marcus chuckled.

‘I gotta get back now because I can see that Jack is about smush Cheetos over my break pedals but I’ll...’ you trailed off, forcing yourself to look at him and smile. ‘I’ll call you.’

‘I look forward to it.’

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno imagine #marcus moreno x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character headcanons

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sweetestlamb · 3 years

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Put On A Show

Summary: Cha-young goes to her high school reunion and brings a certain mafia guest.

Author's note: I heard someone wanted a on top and in control CY so here it is! I already had this idea about a HS reunion so I simply combined the two ideas and got this smutty brainchild. This is rated E for extremely dirty so read at your own discretion, I planned on writing more fics of them pining but I really do love a women in control so I took a break from my cockblocking to fill this prompt. Hope you enjoy ;)

Dear class of 2005,

That time has come once again, our class reunion! This year's reunion will be held in the Phoenix Hall in honor of us all rising from the ashes of this pandemic and being reborn stronger than ever before! Tickets available for purchase below. There are separate tickets for food and drinks and this year's theme will be luxury: a life of decadence. We look forward to seeing you all.

Cha-young skims the email that had initially landed in her spam folder, only the name of her old high school attached in the subject line catches her attention enough to make her open the otherwise nondescript email.

Another high school reunion.

She had been evading these gatherings like the plague itself, ever since the last time she'd made the mistake of going to one. She had just landed her job at Wusang Firm and finally felt confident in herself, in high school she'd always been the loud one and the weird one but now she was a lawyer and a damn good one if she said could say so herself. Nobody could dismiss her now or jokingly remind her of the bowl cut she had sported before, she was always the butt of their jokes and she was tired of feeling small beneath their condescending thumb. She finally had something worth bragging about.

She'd stepped in with a smirk on her face, tight black dress and heels clicking as she walked waving at people she knew but didn't deign important enough to stop her entrance for a chat. The buffet table was her sole destination but she'd been intercepted by familiar annoying high pitched voices, Chang Ae-ram and Bom Min-he, the popular girls in her school and the banes of her existence both rushed over to her with drinks in their hands.

They never had anything kind to say to her and seemed to seek her out simply to put her down or remind her of how much of a “pathethic loser” she was in high school, as if she hadn’t been the one living her life.

The verbal sparring began almost immediately, with them all battling for lead in the "my life is going great" contest, coyly listing their accolades and accomplishment and assertively she told them both about her new job at one of Korea's most successful and well known law firm.

"Oh." Ae-ram answered with a tight smile that pulled her surgically enhanced face into a wrinkleless grin.

Score.

She sipped her drink feeling victorious as they both avoided her brazen eye contact. She had just opened her mouth to make her leave when a vindictive smile stretched over Min-he's face, "A job is so important but what about a family? Surely you don't plan on dying alone, how come you never bring anyone with you? We're all so sad that you don't have anyone still." She gripped the stem of her wine glass at the fake concern, suddenly the group was larger and everyone was congratulating Min-he on her engagement, the other woman waving the huge diamond on her finger in her face.

It was so vapid and stupid and she knew that it didn't make her any less of a woman that she didn't have a man but those words still burned. She had noticed that everyone was paired up and she was one of the only people who came alone, she'd been seeing someone before the reunion but at her mention of the gathering he had told her that "things were getting too serious for him" rolling out of her bed while tugging on his underwear and that had been the last she heard from him.

She'd spent the rest of the night on the outskirts avoiding her college mates and later stumbled out on her heels unsteady from the amount of liquor she'd consumed.

That had been her last reunion. She'd pointedly ignored all the invitations since then, the shame of that night still stinging all those years later. They only served as a reminder that she still had no one and regardless of how successful she was at her career she would be deemed undesirable by others.

It was such a fucking joke but she couldn't shake the insecurity despite knowing how false it was.

The sound of keys jingling near the front door knock her free from her reminiscing and she spins around to the sight of Vincenzo struggling to squeeze through the entrance with several bags in his arms, he never wants to make more than one trip- the overachiever. She nods her head in hello before trudging over to him without closing her laptop, greeting him easily with a peck on the lips freeing a few bags from his hands.

"Did you get my cookies?" She asks again despite the various text messages she had sent reminding him about her sweet treats, he rolls his eyes at her again swinging another bag into her waiting hands.

"Here. When I told you to text me necessities, cookies are not what I had in mind." He flicks her forehead lightly silencing her cry of pain with a follow-up kiss to the spot, she grumbles but stuffs the soft baked chocolate chip cookies into her mouth, cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk hoarding food for the winter.

Smooth as a well-oiled machine they put the groceries away, the sound of cabinets opening and closing the soundtrack for their movements. When everything is correctly put away, she makes her way back over to her laptop only then remembering what she'd been doing.

She stares at the screen contemplating her next move before she feels a familiar heavy weight on her shoulder, his breath is hot on her neck when he speaks, "What are you looking at?" He barely waits for her reply covering her hand on the sleek mouse, scrolling down to read the entire email. She waits anxiously in her seat as he reads the words out loud, obviously she had thought about him when she first received the email but her last experience had made her nervous about asking him to attend.

They hadn't been officially dating for long. They'd been too focused on taking down Babel and the aftermath had left them both with unanswered questions about the nature of their relationship.

Only this time when she asked him the same question she'd been asking since he crash landed into her life unexpectedly, after everything was over, he'd looked over at her and said in a small voice "Not if you want me to stay."

She'd been a coward and he had taken her silence as rejection and it had taken a dramatic and honestly cliché airport interruption, complete with her pushing past airport staff and screaming his name crying as they told her that the plane to Malta had already taken off.

She'd returned to her house with red rimmed eyes that widened into huge saucers at the sight of him in front of her house, large suitcase beside him.

Gasping she ran into his arms, as terrified as she'd felt that fateful night so long ago in the underpass.

"I couldn't go."

He tugged her closer, burrowing his face in her thick hair and breathing harshly his voice was raw and rough like he'd been crying too.

"Because of me?" She asked shock laden in her words and that's when he drew away to stare into her eyes and with a defeated nod he said, "Because of you."

The rest had been history. He came inside with her and he hadn't left since.

"Are you going?"

She stills at the inquiry, head dizzy from the memories racing through her mind.

"What?"

He places a finger on the computer screen, "This reunion. Are you going?"

She feels a small sting in her chest at his words, with a sad smile she starts to shake her head in decline but then he chuckles, "We should go. I'll be your arm candy." He teases wagging his eyebrows in her peripheral.

Oh.

"You want to come with me?" She repeats stunned by his casual offer, this seemed huge for some reason and she could feel her heart pounding erratically in her brittle chest.

He finally straightens up walking off to the kitchen grabbing a cup, pulling the fridge open.

"Yeah I mean unless you have another boyfriend you want to bring with you."

She laughs at his joke but internally her blood sings, she didn't want to get her hopes up but now she can barely contain her happiness.

She can always count him to have her back.

Slamming the laptop shut she circumvents the chair running over to him, he looks at her with a raised eyebrow prying the cup of water from his hands she pulls him down into a grateful kiss. He hums low when she slips her tongue into his lax mouth, this kiss vastly different from the peck she'd greeted him with at the door.

She can taste the caffeine on his tongue, the strong flavor of his favorite espresso swirling around her taste buds, pushing him firmer into the counter she laps at his mouth eager for a deeper exploration. He melts under her touch letting her manhandle him and move his head as she sees fit, his complete surrender makes her hot under the collar.

It's with reluctance that she pulls away from his addicting lips.

She smirks as he sways into her body as if intoxicated.

"Sorry. We have to go soon, it's game night."

It's a weekly tradition at the plaza, tonight they're playing Taboo, it had been announced in the group chat that Mr. Nam had forced them to join. It was chaotic with so many different voices there but it made her feel warm, like they were their own little family.

He groans disappointed but nods slowly, adjusting himself discretely but not enough for her vigilant eyes. She stares at the hardon visible through the thin material of his sweatpants.

"Let's go before you get me any more excited." He grumbles, picking up the snacks he'd purchased for tonight. She smiles triumphantly at his back still in disbelief that she has that kind of power over the great Corn Salad, Vincenzo Cassano.

Game night is a success, filled with laughter and playful arguing. They all work together in pairs and their team loses horribly with her accidentally shouting out all the taboo words every time it's her turn. Mi-Ri and Larry Kang- from the dance studio make a great team using dance moves and inside jokes to solve their words in seconds much to everyone’s shock, they both adamantly deny any change in their relationship at the groups subsequent teasing.

Nobody believes them.

Just like they hadn’t believed her and Vincenzo.

They get home at midnight and both collapse before they can finish what they started earlier in the kitchen, but cuddling is great too. He’s always the little spoon.

The reunion isn't a point of conversation again and she almost forgets about it completely until it's Saturday, the day of the event and she wakes up alone. It's not totally abnormal with him being a morning person but she still groans in annoyance at his disappearance. The bed is so cold without his body letting off heat like a human furnace.

The sun is high in the sky when she finally pulls herself out of bed much later, 12:45pm according to her phone and she sits up with a full body stretch, body popping and cracking.

"Vincenzo? Are you here?" She calls out to the empty house, receiving no reply.

With a sigh she goes to shower and brush her teeth, he should be back soon from wherever he went.

When she finally comes out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam following her she pauses at the package on the bed. A huge white box catches her eye, the gold silken bow striking across the large rectangle. Taking a closer step she runs a finger across the smooth material in wonder.

There's a note and immediately she recognizes the distinctive penmanship.

Open me.

Not needing to be told twice she tugs the bow watching it unraveling before lifting the top of the box, peering inside with glowing eyes.

She lets out a soft gasp at the sight of the piercing white material that is almost perfectly camouflaged in the matching box. She lifts it with awe, watching material unfurl until she can see it clearly. It's a dress made from expensive fabric based on the its luxurious feel in her hands and her eyes widen at the cape that hangs lower than the dress itself.

"He was listening to me."

She remembers her group chat with the ladies from the plaza, sending them different options for her reunion and letting them help to pick it her outfit. She wanted something that would garner attention but that still felt like her, and that's when she'd seen it. The new Alexander Wang collection, all white blazer dress with a cape and button details, it looked like luxury and she knew it had to be hers.

The ladies had all been in agreement sending her thumbs up emojis and demanding that she purchase the stunning dress. She'd quickly added it to her cart but much to her dismay as she'd been entering her card information, that dreaded message popped up at the top of her screen.

This item is no longer available. Sorry, try again.

Her heart had sunk and despite Miri's computer savvy and Yeon-Jin 's online shopping prowess they had not been able to locate the dress on any other site. It was sold out, everywhere.

Or so she thought.

Wordlessly she slips into the dress and surprisingly it fits like a glove, as if it was tailored just for her but that can't be.

"I'll zip that up for you."

She jumps at the dark voice behind her and then a chill runs up her spine at his fingertips on her bare back. He slides the thick curtain of her hair to the side to zip it up the rest of the way, their eyes meet in the full length mirror across the room.

"You look beautiful." He compliments easily, eyes caressing her body from her head down to her bare toes.

She feels like a goddess under his eyes.

"Where did you get this? It was sold out everywhere." She stares at him in wonder and he smiles at her gaping mouth, "I called in a favor. I knew a designer who owed me a favor." He shrugs as if it's nothing that he knows designers who are connected to the Alexander Wang, she's still not used to his influence.

Wait.

"Do you know Alexander Wang?" She shouts in surprise spinning to stare at him and his easy smile and open hand gesture is enough of an answer.

"I got your measurements from Mr.Tak. I wanted tonight to be perfect for you."

Her nerves have been shot all week, it's true that they haven't discussed the reunion at all but that doesn't mean it hasn't been on a mind even haunting her dreams.

She didn't want to be embarrassed again. She knew that she shouldn't let them get to her, she didn't have to prove herself to anyone but for once she just wanted to make them all eat those condescending words. She wanted to show them that she was the same weird girl from high school but she was even more now, also a successful woman and there was nothing wrong with being both sides of those coins.

Without her even saying one word he'd been able to detect how important this night was for her.

"Thank you." She breathes tears glistening on her eyes, he wraps both arms around her waist beaming at her in the mirror.

"Don't thank me yet you didn't even see the shoes yet."

Without waiting for her answer he steps away to lift a pair of sparkling shoes from the box, the red soles immediately notifying her of the exorbitant brand.

She gapes at the shoes and then a smirking Vincenzo and then back at the shoes, "Are you crazy? Are those Louboutin's?" She asks the obvious question turning the shoes over to stare at the vibrant scarlet soles. A certain Bronxite’s voice blaring in her head about blood shoes.

"They did say the theme was luxury. I thought these were just right for you." Squealing like a kid in candy store she sits down on the bed with both shoes in hand, but before she can slip them on he's lowering himself to his knees. The sight is enough to stop her in her tracks, her traitorous imagination running wild at the implications and possibilities. When he takes the shoes from her loose grip she merely watches as he slides the shoes onto her feet, just like the dress they too fit perfectly.

"I feel like Cinderella." She chuckles trying to break the tension and the swell in her chest but his bright smile only makes her chest constrict tighter, she doesn't know if she'll survive tonight.

"Hong Cha-young!" She freezes at the sound of Ae-ram's squealing voice only pausing for a moment before turning with a tense smile.

Here we go.

The woman is flagged by her usual posse and parrots, who are always ready to echo her biting remarks and she gulps down her dirty martini needing some liquid courage.

As if sensing her unease instantly Vincenzo takes the hand that was artistically placed in the pocket of his fitting white dress pants and curls it around her waist, grounding her with the simple touch. She turns to him and he greets her with a calming smile that she can't help but return.

I've got your back. He says with only a slight lift of his lips.

She takes a deep breath.

Ae-ram's smile dims as she gets closer to them, her eyes honed on the hand on her hip and she leans fully into the warm body pressed against her side.

Min-he speaks first, an equally constipated smile on her face, "Who's this? You've never brought anyone before. Is this a work friend?" She almost rolls her eyes at the ridiculous question, as if work friends would be this comfortable with each other. They're already finding excuses, grasping at straws and creating complicated solutions for something that is easy to understand simply because they don’t think she’s worthy of attention. That large hand tightens lightly before a light chuckle reaches her ear, “Vincenzo Cassano, lawyer and the lucky man who gets to call her my mine.” She fidgets in his hold blushing at his bold introduction and watching all eyes widen at them, nobody speaks at first clearly in shock at the revelation.

“Vinshenzo? What kind of name is that?” Someone harps from the back of the crowd and she feels her hackles rise, yes she might have struggled with the pronunciation of his name at first but it felt petty and intentional right now not an honest mistake like her mispronunciation had been.

But before she can unleash her anger, another old classmates breaks the tense stalemate.

“Oh you’re the Italian lawyer I heard about on the new, who took down Babel! Great job!”

She had also helped with that, them being a team but nobody seems to care about that all focusing on Vincenzo, all herding around her Italian like he’s a celebrity and she watches shock as he easily wins them over.

“Sì, ero io. Il piacere è tutto tuo.” Yes that was me, the pleasure is all yours.

The group minus Ae-ram and Min-he all oh and ah at his effortless Italian despite having no clue what exactly he just said, she too is clueless at the quickly stated sentence but the mischievous smirk on his handsome face informs her of all that she needs to know, he is mocking them right to their faces. She hides a smile behind her hands, pretending to cough into her fingers.

Wordlessly, the group separates based on sex-she watches helplessly as Vincenzo is tugged away in a boisterous discussion about the state of Korean football- and she is left alone with those harpies but unlike the other reunions suddenly she is the most interesting woman there, regardless of Ae-ram trying to steal the show with pictures of her new full breed dog. She watches amused as the other woman is pushed aside and she is accosted on both sides, questions firing off like rockets.

“Where did you meet him?”

“Does he have a brother?”

“When are you getting married? You have to marry him!”

“Does he always smell that good?”

She turns flabbergasted to hear that question coming from Ae-ram’s right hand woman, Min-he and Ae-ram glares at her looking betrayed before she storms off with her professional head shots of her dog. She expects Min-he to trail after the spiteful primadonna but to her shock the other woman moves in closer, joining the firing brigade with their million questions about the handsome Italian.

They all settle down when the man they are so curious about returns, hand back on her waist like that its resting place.

Her ears ring from their coos and shrill “awws” but she leans into him nonetheless happy to have him back, already exhausted dealing with these people.

Then she notes that the tone of the questions suddenly shift as they begin to bombard the Italian Korean all at once. There are....more flirtatious when speaking to him and she feels her blood curl at the unprecedented change.

“Are all Italians this handsome?” Her eye twitches at the bold inquiry, subconsciously she feels her eyes narrow into slits as she glares at the woman who was brave stupid enough to ask that. The bitch blanches at her sneer but still flutters her eyelashes at Vincenzo waiting for his response, she clears her throat loudly answering for him, “He’s one of a kind and fortunately all mine. “ She can feel the smug bastard preening next to her practically buzzing from her compliment, and she quickly makes their escape, “Please excuse us.” Vincenzo smoothly tips his drinks at the women, “Addio,” he bids farewell in Italian arm still hooked around her waist as she sashays away, Louboutin's clicking on the marble tile floor.

The scrap of Italian leaves them all in a frenzy, whispering wildly behind them.

She drags them to the bar, ordering two shots of soju and another dirty martini ignoring his examining stare.

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” She already knows the answer to her question, it’s written all over him and she tries to stifle the jealousy that wants to rear its ugly head.

He looks over at her with a lazy grin, trying to appear innocent. She isn’t fooled for one second.

“Me? I’m not doing anything. I’m only here for you.”

She scoffs at him, staring at his annoyingly handsome face and his gleaming white suit he discarded the jacket earlier and his arms have been distracting her all night.

“You love the attention.”

He rubs his neck before turning to her fully, leaning on the bar counter.

“What? Are you jealous of the attention I’m getting? isn’t that why you brought me to make you look good?”

She wants to deny it and laugh at him, but even now she can hear the voices in the distance all intrigued by the Italian and the bartender’s eyes linger just a minute too long as the smooth Lawyer throws his free shot back in one fluid motion. She should be used to it by now, everyone in a ten mile radius getting a hard on for the Korean Italian. She understands why he gets all this attention, he is gorgeous that was one of the many reasons that she had fallen for him too but sometimes it can be intimidating to be with someone that so many others desire and so obviously too.

She wonders if she even deserves him.

Was she enough for him?

“What’s going on in that pretty little head?” He taps her on her forehead dragging her from her self-deprecation. “Do you know why they’re all so mean to you?” He suddenly asks and she stares at him before shaking her head no.

Probably because she’s a hot fucking mess.

“They’re jealous of you.”

A burst of laughter slips free at this speculation and she watches as his face tightens, “You really don’t know do you?” His voice is liquid fire, smoky and dark like the tendrils from a cigarette.

“What are you talking about?” She manages to get out despite being lost in his voice.

“How sexy you are.” He leans over to whisper directly in her heated ears, she moans lightly at his breath on her skin.

That is hardly ever a word that she has heard used to describe her, Hong Cha-young.

Clumsy. Forgetful. Selfish. Loud. Demanding. Too Much.

Those words she had heard all her life but never sexy. She was too strange to be sexy.

“You’re smart and beautiful and you have a successful career. You aren’t afraid to be yourself and now you have me on your arm. You have everything and they wish they were you, they’re jealous.” He repeats firmer this time, rubbing a large thumb across her bottom lip and grinning down at her with barely contained glee.

She starts to deny his claim but then she looks behind her and sees nothing but a sea of envy, women and men both looking at them and she notes not all eyes are on Vincenzo a few men seemed lost in the low cut dip of her dress and the miles of naked skin on display.

She gasps at the hard line that pokes at her bottom when he leans into her back, standing flush her back to his front. She shivers when he leans down to breathily say, “Everyone is watching, why don’t we give them a show?”

This is not like her, at all.

She has never been a fan of public displays of affection, even screaming at horny strangers in the past to get a room but she feels all that restraint leave her body at his challenge. Driving her body back into his jutting erection she slowly grinds in perfect rhythm to the song playing over the stereo.

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She feels seductive as the music curls around her and she lifts her arms to wrap around his neck, bringing him ever closer and pushing back harder delighted at the groan that escapes his lips. He is coiled tightly behind her but he doesn’t move a muscle letting her have complete control over their interaction and she has never felt more powerful. Continuing to sway she leans back when he tightens his grip around her waist, mewling as his nose rubs at her earlobe and letting out a soft gasp when he blows on the tender flesh.

When she peels her heavy lids open, there are so many hungry and watchful eyes on them.

Ae-ram looks scandalized and she can see the woman pointing at them but she can’t hear a word that she’s saying the blood in her ears is too loud, drowning out all other sounds.

It must be the liquor in her veins because seeing all the voyeurs only makes her bolder, before she can second guess herself she spins around much to Vincenzo’s chagrin but she silences him with a finger on his lip.

“Follow me.”

He arches a thin eyebrow but eagerly obeys her command when she tugs him in the direction of the bathroom.

She hears several gasps behind her as she tugs open the door stepping inside, dragging him right behind her the silence is deafening when he closes the door behind them, turning the lock with a metallic snap.

Her breath comes out in hurried puffs.

What the fuck am I doing? She asks herself, wondering if this is what people call an out of body experience.

“We don’t have to do anything. Their imaginations will do the rest.”

He’s giving her an out.

Gripping his hands tighter, she pulls him over to the toilet which is thankfully clean using her feet to slam the seat down before pushing down him to sit. He looks up at her with inquisitive eyes, waiting for her next move but lets himself be manhandled the second time this night.

“Thank you for everything tonight,” she covers his mouth with her hands as she climbs into his lap, whatever words he had on his tongue evaporate when their groins meet.

“I know I don’t say this enough, but I love you.”

She has only ever said it once before and he’d been sleeping, they both knew he wasn’t truly asleep but he let her pretend and she appreciated it but there was no way she couldn’t say it now, tonight. He had been her prince charming when she had expected nothing.

“Are you serious? You say it to me in her-” She pops open his pants button cutting off his stunned response and he stares at her, making her feel hot.

“Talk later?” She begs and her request is backed by her hand disappearing through the slit in his pants and wrapping around his dick, the hot muscle twitching fiercely in her hold.

He chokes out word that sounds like a jumbled “yes” and that’s all the consent she needs to stroke him harder, using his precum to glide her hand down from the tip to the base and then back up again, he lets out a punched out groan at her purposeful handling of his imported goods.

Shifting back marginally, she gives herself more room tugging his pants down further to get a better look at the pretty pink cock, it’s standing at attention and weeping for her and rubs harder twisting in a corkscrew motion on the mushroom head much to his pleasure, he thrusts up into her hand and immediately she lets go.

“Please,” he whines so prettily and she tsks at him, “Don’t move, you can only take what I give you. You said you were mine right?”

She doesn’t know what has come over her but seeing all those women and men lusting over her boyfriend makes her want to remind them and him, just who he belongs to.

She expects him to put up some sort of fight, instead he nods eagerly at her command stilling his hip and she can see the strain in his white knuckled grip on the toilet edge.

“Good boy.” She praises and notes with stunned satisfaction the way his dick jumps at the praise too, interesting.

She starts with a light pace, stroking with the barest amount of pressure before she starts to grip him tighter when he groans at the dryness of her hands she leans over to spit on his head, this makes him hiss and fight to stay still in her grip she rewards him with a kiss to his flushed red head. The wet sounds of her hands stroking his hot meat fills the small space of the bathroom and lifting one hand she grabs his tie using it to yank him into a hard kiss, he opens up for her immediately letting her tongue explore his mouth.

She has never seen this mafia man so docile, it’s like seeing a lion behave like a house cat.

With a hard suck at his bottom lip, she breaks their kiss leaving them to pant into each other’s mouth harshly.

She didn’t know how far she actually planned on going but now nothing seems like enough, she needs more.

Staring deep into his eyes, she stands up releasing her grip on him and he sighs watching her confused before she slides both hands under her dress and slowly pulls down her panties, they are tiny, white and lace, matching her bra and he looks mesmerized as they are pried down her legs.

“Are you sure?” He’s still checking on her and she smiles at him, stepping out of the panties and cheekily putting them in his pocket, “Give them safe for me,” she doesn’t give him a chance to reply before sinking back down onto him, his dick is hard and thick but she’s so wet that he glides into her like they are two matching pieces of a puzzle. An erotic puzzle.

“Fuck!” He shouts when he bottoms out and his cock is completely encased in her tight walls, his voice echoes off the bathroom walls.

She grabs his tie, making his eyes pop open and she watches amused as he sputters as she stuffs the expensive material into his mouth.

“You’re being too loud.” She teases remembering all the times he had been the one admonishing her as she screamed beneath him.

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” He echoes her words from spitting out the tie and she can’t deny it, so instead she rocks forward taking even more of him simultaneously shoving the wet tie back into his mouth listening to his barely muffled grunts. She rises up on the tips of her toes, her red bottoms giving her that extra bit of height, his hard tip popping free with a wet squelch before she slams back down onto him titling her head back and moaning to the ceiling.

He’s being so good, not moving at all simply letting her fuck down on him and she can tell his control is slipping every time he grips her waist too tightly, painfully.

She continues to ride him, chasing her own pleasure and whimpering when his blunt head slides across her engorged bead, rocking vigorously up and down as she feels the end drawing near. She tightens her hold on his shoulder, using him as leverage to ride him faster, his thighs tense under the weight of her body and her rapid pace.

The wet smacks fill the air filthily and she feels dirty, absolutely nasty but instead of shame an intense wave of pride barrels over her.

“You’re mine.” She whispers out loud to herself but he misinterprets the words and eagerly nods at the statement thinking she wants him to declare that he’s hers, “Yes I am yours, all yours,” and she loses her mind, pistoning herself rapidly on his lap before pleasure surges through her body, starting in her toes and curling up her thighs and she rocks her nipples into his chest through their layers of clothes, she muffles her cry in his throat roughly pulling at the skin there to silence her deafening screams.

It’s only then that he breaks the rules, reaching up to grab her shoulders and yanking her down to meet his vicious upward thrust and waves and waves of thick streams fill her up until she feels it leaking at the sides.

There is no sound besides their louds pants.

Then two loud knocks make them both jump from their wrecked state, his softening length falling from her grip.

“This is the only bathroom.” A voice calls out disgusted and with a gasp she stands up straightening her dress and running a hand through her hair before realizing that it’s still sticky, great.

Vincenzo is a puddle on the toilet, legs spread apart and softened dick not yet tugged away, he looks like sin reincarnated and it takes everything not to initiate another round.

“Come on lover boy,” she tugs him up pulling him up and zipping up his pants, then she moves him over to the sink washing her hands and making him do the same. Their eyes meet in the mirror and that’s when she sees much how debauched they truly look, when he turns to look at the hickey she sucked into his pale skin while trying to be quiet she finally feels the ability to be embarrassed returning.

it’s huge and red, almost purple, covering the thick column of his throat and he winces when he rubs at it.

“I’m sorry, I got carried away.” She apologizes but its for naught because he grins at her proudly, “You were just claiming what’s yours.”

His words light another fire under her skin and it’s only the pounding on the door that stops her from jumping him again.

When they finally pull the door open, none other than a blanched face Ae-ram is on the other side. The woman looks shocked to see them both standing in front of her and the gears begin to slowly turn and a bright blush rushes up her unnaturally high cheekbones while color evacuates the rest of her face.

“Are you serious?!”

She doesn’t stay to hear the rest of the woman’s snide remark, all eyes are on them as she walks over to the bar to grab her discarded purse and Vincenzo’s jacket, the bartender winks knowingly at them looking equal parts aroused and jealous and she chortles, winking back.

He hands them two shots, “It’s on the house,” he looks them up and down languidly licking his lips and she slams back the bitter liquid before turning to Vincenzo, his lips are shiny and now wet under the bright lights.

“Let’s get out of here.” She slams the shot glass on the counter, pulling him out the door.

He hastily swallows his drink, letting her tug him out the door into the cool night air.

“You didn’t let me answer you before, but me too.”

She looks at him from the corner of her eye, the wind causing her to sober up and it takes a minute to understand what he’s talking about. She shifts awkwardly when she ultimately realizes nodding while looking away, their cab is three minutes away.

“I love you too, Hong Cha- young.”

As if she didn’t already know. It was too obvious after tonight.

#vincenzo #vincenzo cassano #hong cha young #rated E #smut with feelings #chayenzo #CCFC2021 #top CY

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nevertheless-moving · 3 years

Text

thanks again to @dykerory and @willowcrowned for this genius au. this is an incomplete collection of very specific set of headcanons/daydreams i had about a tangential version of your au that made me emotional in the middle of the woods. whenever you feel the time is right, i’m very eager to hear your og version on the ‘but obi-wan, tho!’, because i admittedly pushed this one’s resolution really far chronologically because i wanted batman to be involved.

continuation from here

note: my understanding of dcu is as sporadically informed as my understanding of the gffa.

newly graduated clark kent gets his first journalism job and starts settling more and more into the superman thing. the rest of the justice league has been around but his entrance onto the scene is the one that really inspires the various heroes to actually start coordinating to deal with the weirdness magnet that is dcu Earth. Clark is in his early 20s. Anakin is in his late 30s.

He’s been living on Earth, without the force, for nearly 2/3rds of his life. He has a close knit circle of friends who were kind to him even when they thought he was just a weird and crazy emo cult victim (the gradual increase of public encounters with aliens and superpowers sparks some awkward apologies, Anakin at 38 just waves his friends off, smiling and changing the subject, neither confirming nor denying his high school ramblings of spaceships and magic. it doesn’t really change anything).

He lives an hour’s drive from smallville, and runs a successful auto shop. people travel from pretty far to check out some of his more wild and specialized motorcycle abominations. makes enough money selling them to rich idiots to fund his free auto-class and auto-repair programs for impoverished communities.

It took a while but he eventually came around to the idea of helping people without physical force (ironically, this is happening around the same time Clark is coming to the realization that he can help people with physical force). Generally respected as a pillar of the community. When people start to realize how profoundly weird he is as a person in a number of inexplicable ways, someone will generally pull them aside and quietly whisper that he was in a cult at a child, no one really knows much about it except that it’s what inspired his anti-modern-slavery work, which is a little telling. Not married. Was in a long-term relationship for like 9 years. It didn’t end well but no-one knows the details.

Has several cats.

He’s- wistful but settled. He’s been through a lot of therapy. He meditates every morning and night, clearing his mind and examining his emotions in the way Obi-Wan taught him. He thinks Obi-Wan would be proud of him. He know his Mom would be.

Once he gets used to the idea, he never really stops loving the concept of learning just because. Duel bachelors degree in in african american history and american literature, masters in engineering, masters in astrophysics a phd in theoretical physics, another phd in medieval folklore. He’s worked a lot of jobs.

He was already pretty well versed in astronavigation back at the temple. Over the course of his time on earth, he gets more educated in earth astronomy and physics. With is increased knowledge, his theory for ‘how did i get here’ shifts from slight hyperdrive miscalculation, to big hyperdrive miscalculation, to some sort of hyperlane incident. he realizes that none of the stars he knows are familiar in any NASA database. He must be beyond wildspace, which helps him let go of the last bit of hurt he felt that Obi-Wan never found him.

Then he really learns physics- and- light doesn’t exactly work like that right? He thought it was just primitive Earth understanding but... he gets a phd more or less accidentally, trying and failing to disprove that the speed of life is constant constant.

Get’s another even more accidentally, explaining how alternate universes might form if we assume slightly different universal constants. He publishes his thesis anonymously around the same time metas are becoming a household term, and at least one science journalist speculates on it and how alternate universes might explain the increasing prevalence of wildly different superpowers. He doesn’t claim credit for the honorary diploma awarded to the unknown theorist- he doesn’t want to risk drawing any attention to him and by extension Clark, who’s alien differences are far more of the ‘military experiment interesting’ variety then his.

He stops tinkering with Clark’s ship. He finally gets how it works. Now that he realizes how FTL travel has to work in this universe, tinkering with the mechanical generation and harnessing of the massive quantities of energy necessary to do is startlingly familiar. But it doesn’t matter. No matter how far and fast he travels, he’s never going to be able to get back to the life he used to know.

Perhaps this is what being the chosen one actually means- he’s meant to live a life without the force, so that when he returns to it in death he’ll be able to somehow...educate? the force? maybe?

Ok, he’s not great at the metaphysical spiritual side of things, but he does accept that going back is out of his control, and he’s doing good here, even if it’s not galaxy altering.

Despite all the therapy, he never doubts that his early life was real. He has his saber and deep, deep down he can feel a spark in the kyber. He can’t do anything with it, but it’s there. There’s also pieces of the utter wreck that was his ship in the cellar, next to the sleek unblemished pod that Clark arrived in. Shortly before Clark becomes Superman, he asks for his help in melting down his old ship to make unearthly alloys.

He’s not surprised when Clark tells him he met a ‘real’ ‘magic’ user- it stands to reason that considering how relatively easy it is to convert energy from one form to another in this universe (Clark can fly), at least one kind would bend to sentient willpower in a similar way as the force does.

It’s still a little nervewracking showing his lightsaber to someone new for the first time in a decade. Zantana scrutinizes, bewildered.

“There is some sort of power locked within, but it’s unfamiliar to me,” she admits finally. “I could probably brute force it and force the energy to release itself, but it would likely destroy the container.” Anakin politely refuses.

Later, after the justice league’s formation, Clark mentions to J’onn that he has a friend who might be able to work on his ship. J’onn is extremely doubtful when he’s brought to a bizarre autoshop in the midwest that looks half-like a roadside attraction. Anakin sighs and digs his hands into the guts of the craft, muttering incomprehensibly and yelling at clark to melt down some pieces from the special scrap pile. A few days later he explains the patches he’s done to an impressed J’onn. When he asks how a human came to learn such things, he’s absently informed that,

“I used to work in a junkshop in Tatooine. All sorts of ship parts came through.”

“I’m unfamiliar with this world.”

“Tell you what, if you ever meet anyone who’s heard it of it, send them my way, and I’ll make your next repair free.”

“Oh! I’m afraid I don’t have any earth money...”

“Ugh, of course you don’t. it’s cool, capitalism sucks anyway and everyone’s entitled to free transportation, regardless of the area they happen to live. I do ask that if you can’t pay for the repairs that you spend an equivalent number of hours either attending one of my free auto classes, or volunteer at a community-led charities of your choice, here I’ll get you a pamphlet-”

So the Martian Manhunter becomes a weekly volunteer at a Midwestern Food Waste Reclamation Facility. J’onn J’onzz ends up becoming Anakin Skywalker’s friend well before he becomes comes truly comfortable around Kal-El. For a telepath, 39 year old Anakin’s Jedi orderly mind is a soothing relief.

(again, Anakin has spent far more time meditating on Earth then he ever did at the temple. Before all this, spent five years dutifully memorizing the Jedi way even as he struggled to live up it’s basic practices. For the first few years on earth, religiously practicing every meditation technique Obi-Wan ever taught him, thinking obsessively about the philosophies he never had time to really process, is just a desperate attempt to reconnect with the force, prove himself worthy of it. But even after he gives up on ever touching the force again, he keeps up the practice, he can’t release his emotions exactly, but he does find peace. The tendency to stop mid-rant to earnestly pronounce made up zen bullshit and then sit quietly for an hour before picking up on his tirade again as though there was no interruption is one of the things many things people find profoundly weird about him)

Kal-El doesn’t stop asking new aliens and dimensional travelers if they’ve ever heard of Coruscant, or Hutts, or the Jedi Order. Anakin might have given up, but Superman remembers his older brother scrubbing away his own tears to focus on helping Clark calm down enough to touch the floor again. The more the Kryptonian’s powers developed in alarming ways, the more Anakin set aside talk of missing his home galaxy. Anakin might have claimed it wasn’t like that, but Clark was determined to take every chance his increasingly weird life threw at him, no matter how vanishingly small.

In the middle of his first battle with Braniac, Clark starts insulting his incomplete database. The world collector pauses, demanding a more precise explanation. Clark complies, giving his best technical description of Coruscant’s cityscape, Tatooine’s binary star system, and so on. Braniac is so distracted that Superman recovers completely from his kryptonite poisoning and easily saves the day.

Neither the lantern corp or the denizens of the neutral zone have the answers. Superman doesn’t mention it it Anakin, but he never stops looking and listening.

“How did you even meet that guy?” Flash asks curiously after stopping to say hello on one of their after work laps of the country.

“Aliens among us support group,” Kal-El responds deadpan.

“Oh. Wait, what? He’s an alien? I thought he was from the future or something! You’re messing with me. No way that’s a thing. How many people are in the support group? This is a joke, right?”

“Sorry, most of them aren’t out and I don’t want to violate their privacy- a lot of them have high profile jobs. How do you think I met J’onn?”

“SUPES I’M FREAKING OUT RIGHT NOW YOU’VE GOTTA STOP”

Anakin is just sort of vaguely known by a solid chunk of the super community as ‘that one midwestern zen space mechanic’ and no one really questions it because everyone’s life has just gotten so goddamn weird. A few of them know he used to be a space wizard of some kind. Space wizards now being a regular hazard of life on earth, no one has reason to doubt this, and it’s as good an explanation as any for Anakin’s general vibe.

well. almost no one doubts this. Batman does not simply accept Anakin’s general bullshittery without carefully investigating and drawing his own conclusions. He does not share these with anyone.

But one day Clark- this is well after Superman became Kal-El to him, and not long after Kal-El tells him to call him Clark- comes up to him and asks for his help finding about an alternate universe. Knowing and dreading where this is going, Batman stalls,

“Shouldn’t you be asking one of the league members who regularly travels between universes?”

“I have, over the years,” Clark admits, awkwardly scuffing a boot on the floor of the cave. “But no one’s familiar with the exact one I’m looking for, and I thought since you’re a detective, and also one of the smartest people I know, you might be able to help me...”

“You’re an investigator yourself, and you can survive the vacuum of space,” Bruce shoots back flatly. “I’ve told you before Gotham is my priority, and this has ‘personal project’ all over it.”

“Come on, B, please,” Superman pleads, trailing Batman around the cave like an overgrown puppy. “In a few months it will have been 30 years! He’s my brother! Just let me see the research you’ve already done!”

“Who says I’ve already done research on your brother?”

Clark shoots him a look. And Bruce concedes the point with a grunt.

“I’ll need need to talk with him first,” Bruce finally concedes. “Bring him by the cave. Take the-”

“Take the tunnel entrance, I know, I know,” Clark agrees with a grin. “This doesn’t mean he’s authorized to know your secret identity. Thanks Bruce, this means a lot. I’ll ask him tomorrow about his schedule.”

Superman flies off and Batman scrubs his face with a gloved hand. After a moment he pulls up Anakin’s file on the main monitor. Bruce honestly respects and likes the man, as much as he respects and likes anyone who’s not family. He admires his sense his style, appreciates his upgrades to the batmobile, and is impressed by both this civil rights work and his additions to the scientific community.

That doesn’t mean he’s not convinced that Anakin’s brother is a bit insane. Again, he’s not judging! He dresses like a bat to scare random henchmen and beat up actual demigods! He wishes his rogues gallery was as capable of directing their ptsd-inspired delusions and staggering intellects towards such productive pursuits!

Bruce was already in quiet awe of the Kent’s ability to raise an outrageously superpowered being without blowing up a chunk of the country; their success in derailing a supervillian origin story just puts him over the edge. He stares at the three most likely profiles he’s pulled together. Christen Jones, from a negligent family, death certificate filled out suspicously sloppily at age 3. Earl Lucas, went missing at age 9, both parents dead in a violent assault. And Jake Hayden, who at age 5 disappeared along with the rest of his family in a seismic accident later linked to Luthercorp.

Anyone of them could have suffered on the streets for years and coped by establishing an elaborate fantasy world, aided by self medication, only to eventually be picked up by the Kent’s and start healing. Certainly Anakin had the intellect to create worlds in his mind. All his rogues were smart enough to create their own little realities in their heads- it doesn’t mean they were actually reachable.

Unfortunately Anakin had a Kryptonian younger brother who was determined to actually find the space wizard knight homeworld, even as the 'Jedi’ in question had slowly moved away his reliance on the delusion as an adult. Batman really didn’t see any way bringing up his conclusions to Anakin or Clark could possibly be helpful, and so many alien allies had a ‘If you find about the Jedi please contact Kal-El of Krypton on Earth’ pamphlet that it would be excruciatingly awkward to try and discretely correct anyone.

Bruce was not looking forward to this conversation.

#star wars #star wars au #dc #crossover #batman #anakin skywalker #corn boy anakin au

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cheri-translates · 3 years

Text

[CN] Shaw’s 2021 Birthday R&S

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an R&S which has not been released in EN! 🍒

Knowledge of Shaw’s 2020 Birthday R&S is highly recommended before reading this!

[ This R&S was released on 16 June 2021 ]

[ Chapter One ]

This is the fifth month that Shaw is learning how to skateboard. The little buddies who started out with him had given up one after the other because they couldn’t endure the bitter taste of tripping and falling. In the end, he’s the only one left.

The wheels grate against the ground in a regular rhythm. Leaping over the obstacle, it makes a swerve, accelerates, and flips... the skateboard is lithe and graceful beneath Shaw’s feet, akin to a reed leaf as it brings him into the largest skatepark in Loveland City with a wilful rush.

“Shaw! Shaw!”

Shaw halts the skateboard and turns around.

A little fatty with a band-aid on his knee walks over, smiling and revealing his missing front teeth. “Finally found you.”

Shaw laughs scornfully. “Why’s a defeated opponent looking for me? Do you want to lose the remaining half of your front teeth?”

“You!” Little Fatty flushes red in an instant. He straightens his neck and points to an area behind him. “I’m not competing with you. Someone else wants to!”

Shaw looks in the direction of his finger. A boy who is obviously taller than him by a head smiles at him, the skateboard beneath his feet sliding back and forth. At a glance, it’s clear that he’s experienced.

“My Bro Zhou is in the Loveland City Qing Xun Team,” Little Fatty hugs his arms with pride, as though he’s the one in the team. “So? Dare to accept it?”

So that’s how it is. He’s a scaredy cat who only dares to call in reinforcements.

Shaw purses his lips. He steps on the tail of the skateboard, and it responds by flipping upwards, the the edge of the board landing steadily in his palm. “Why not? What are we competing in?”

Bro Zhou shrugs. “I won’t make things hard for newbies. We’ll compete in tic-tacs and going over obstacles. How’s that?”

“Sure.”

[Trivia] Tic-tacs are a series of consecutive heelside-to-toeside kickturns where your feet remain on the skateboard. I copied this from Google and have no idea what it means LOL

THUD-

Losing his balance for just a moment, Shaw falls heavily onto the ground. His knees, elbows... waves of pain bloom on every joint. It isn’t a good feeling, but what makes Shaw even more frustrated is the arrogant laughter of Little Fatty. t’s even noisier than the cicadas from afar.

“HAHAHAHA Shaw lost! Let’s see if you still have the guts to be proud!”

He has a lot to say despite being a noob. Shaw rolls his eyes. Enduring the pain, he’s just about to lift himself up by the elbows when Bro Zhou walks over to him, offering him a hand. “Not bad.”

“Thanks.”

The other party continues. “But at your age, it’s best to stick to the basics. There’s no hurry to learn high difficulty moves like the dolphin flip. You’ll definitely fall.”

Shaw’s expression immediately turns cold. “I don’t need your pointers on what I can learn at whatever age.” He doesn’t touch the hand, standing up by himself. Lifting his head, he gives the other party a look over. “Do you come here often?”

“The Qing Xun Team practises here every day.”

“Okay. Next time, I’ll definitely win against you.”

Shaw doesn’t bother about the expressions on Bro Zhou’s and the Little Fatty’s faces after hearing his words. He casually pats off the dust on his body, picks up the skateboard which is flipped over on the floor, and leaves the skatepark.

[ Chapter Two ]

The moment Shaw enters through the doors of the antique store, the Old Man’s uproar begins. “Little Ancestor, did you wreck havoc in the Heavenly Palace again?”

[Note] Here, the Old Man calls Shaw “小祖宗”, which literally means “Little Ancestor”. This term is used in an affectionate way to address a naughty child

“Wrecking havoc in the Heavenly Palace” is a reference to a novel called Journey to the West (西游记), which features a troublemaking Monkey King Sun Wukong

“I’m hungry. What’s there to eat today?” Shaw doesn’t respond to the shopkeeper’s words. Placing his bag and skateboard behind the counter, he reaches out to play with the silly parrot at the entrance - it’s truly silly. Even after teaching it for a month, it can’t even say “welcome to the shop”. It causes Shaw to wonder if the Old Man was perhaps duped of his money once again.

“All you know how to do is eat...” The Old Man sets down the ancient text in his hands and props up his presbyopic glasses. “Old Qian from next door boiled chicken soup today and is giving us half. I’ll stir-fry two dishes. You can ask if the chicken soup is ready.”

Shaw makes an “mm” of acknowledgement, then turns around and heads next door.

The shopkeeper gets up and takes a few steps towards the kitchen. Then, he abruptly returns to the counter, reaching out to touch the coarse scratch marks at the edge of the skateboard. Inexplicably, he sighs.

The chicken soup is a little bland, and the stir-fried dishes are a little salty. Mixing and eating them together is just nice. Shaw lowers his head and pushes rice into his mouth with chopsticks. In his left ear, he hears the news of how the GDP of Loveland City has risen. In his right ear, he hears the nagging of his mentor:

“...I’m not discouraging you from playing with this thing. It’s good to toughen yourself up while you’re young and your bones and muscles are sturdy. But don’t be too rash. This... this thing of yours...”

“Skateboard.” Shaw speaks.

“Yes, skateboard. I remember that it’s only been a month since it was bought, and it’s already tormented to such a state. You have such an impulsive temperament. You should be more level-headed.”

What does this have to do with temperament? If I were to truly be impulsive, I wouldn’t need a month. Just three days would be enough to break a skateboard. Shaw looks at the chicken leg in his bowl, not saying these words aloud.

“Also, remember to report to the shop early tomorrow. Old Qian and I are preparing to head to the neighbouring city to look for goods. You should come along to broaden your horizons.” The shopkeeper taps his chopsticks against the rim of the bowl, signalling for Shaw to pay more attention. “Isn’t it your birthday tomorrow? I could pick out a gift for you! Sigh, I actually had my eye on an agate snuff bottle, but the guy suddenly decided not to sell it...”

“I’m not going tomorrow.” Shaw interrupts the shopkeeper.

The shopkeeper furrows his brows. “Why are you throwing a tantrum?”

“I’m not. I have proper business to attend to tomorrow. The school organised a visit to the museum.” Shaw lifts his eyes, and his thin lips curve upwards. “The things I see there will be much more valuable than those trivial things you fiddle with.”

“You little rascal!”

Shaw laughs, wedging the chicken leg between his chopsticks and sending it into his mentor’s bowl. “I’m full, so I’m heading to the back to do my homework. Chicken legs are really nutritious, so you should have it.”

“Tsk tsk, and you still said you weren’t throwing a tantrum. You aren’t going home again?”

“I don’t want to go back today. I’ll definitely go back tomorrow.” Shaw has already walked to the entrance. He suddenly thinks of something, and turns his head to ask a question. “Mentor, your shop will always be open, right?”

These words came out of nowhere, and the shopkeeper isn’t able to comprehend them. “What?”

“Nothing much. I’m just worried that I won’t have a place to have dinner if an old man like you were to throw in the towel someday.”

The shopkeeper fumes with a glare. “What do you mean by that? You only care about the food? Also, my shop can continue running for a decade or two. I’m still waiting for you to bring back a disciple or a wife to serve me tea!”

Shaw lets out an “oh”, and his eyes crinkle. “In that case, you’ll have to wait for another twenty or thirty years.”

The eyesight of the shopkeeper is no longer as good as before, but he can clearly see that the smile of this child didn’t reach his eyes. After Shaw leaves, he suddenly recalls the fortune that he drew for Shaw half a year ago: “What awaits this catastrophe is a new beginning...”

This child is will meet his predestined fate this year, so what’s left is to see how he endures through it. The shopkeeper shakes his head, sighing once again.

[Note] The actual fortune is “河图数九，洛书数七，脐于九陵，七日来复” but I don’t have the energy to explain it so what I’ve translated above is the overall meaning :>

[ Chapter Three ]

When Shaw awakens on the next day, the shopkeeper has already left to inspect the goods. The shop is empty, and he’s the only one left.

Westmoon Street is lined with old houses, and there’s no soundproofing. Lying on the bed, Shaw can hear the chirping of birds outside the window, the yelling of people on the street, and the babble of the Chinese opera from the old bookstore next door: “I’m just like a caged bird with wings that can’t be outstretched. I’m just like a shallow water dragon trapped on a beach...”

Shaw rubs his face, then sits up on the bed.

The school had set the assembling time to be 9am. Heading out now will give him more than enough time. Shaw quickly washes his face and rinses his mouth. Just as he walks towards the front counter with some rice grains from the kitchen for the parrot to eat, he suddenly discovers that there’s something on the counter.

Walking over, Shaw sees that there’s a cake box as well as a t-shirt which has been washed clean.

There’s a slip of paper on the shirt. The strokes are clean and thin. At a glance, he knows that this is the Old Man’s handwriting: You need energy and drive to participate in the school activity. Don’t wear yesterday’s dirty clothes. Change into this.

The shirt look slightly familiar. He probably changed out of it one day and forgot about it, leaving it in the antique shop. Shaw pays it no mind, turning his head to that small cake once again. The various calligraphy and writings in the antique store are considered relatively charming. Yet, why does he always buy such unsophisticated cakes?

When his classmates celebrate their birthdays, what they eat are high quality custom-made cakes - red velvet, matcha crepe, chocolate molten lava... such a traditional longevity cake is probably found only in a place like Westmoon Street. It’s clear from the light red and light green colours that the embellishments on the cake were made by hand. Eating it would definitely dye his tongue. If he were to speak later, wouldn’t he get laughed at by his classmates?

Shaw bunches up his brows, but the fork in his hand doesn’t stop. The cream is plant-based and tastes bad. He eats a small egg shell at the base of the cake and it tastes bad. The “Happy Birthday” was written using peach jam, and it tastes really bad.

The silly parrot at the side tilts its head, watching as the boy eats mouthfuls while shunning it with every bite, finishing the cake entirely.

Shaw wipes his mouth, then rinses it with the barley tea on the table. Picking up that t-shirt, he returns into the house and changes his clothes.

[ Chapter Four ]

“...this ‘Painting of the Elevated and Pre-eminent’ depicts four famous scholars enjoying themselves. Students, do you know who the Seven Sages of the bamboo forest are?”

[Trivia] If you’re interested in seeing the actual painting, search for “高逸图” (“gao yi tu”)

“It’s such a waste that you didn’t watch yesterday’s episode. That scene where the main lead destroyed the opponent like a boss is unparalleled!”

“Aside from the both of us, did anyone else have fun at Anime City?”

“Are you done with the math homework? Lend it to me - I’ll find a place to copy it.”

...

The question posed by the museum guide is drowned out amidst the laughing and frolicking of the kids. He forces a smile while shaking his head. All of a sudden, he notices that a boy with bluish purple hair isn’t the same as the other kids. He’s staring at an ancient painting in the showcase, lost in thought.

As though seeing a saviour, the guide quickly points at him. “Student, why don’t you give me an answer? It’s fine even if you get it wrong. Uncle will explain to you!”

“...” Shaw turns his head, opening his mouth to say some words, but his voice doesn’t reach the guide’s ears.

“Student, what did you say?” The guide raises his volume.

“I said that the four people in ‘Painting of the Elevated and Pre-eminent’ are Shan Tao, Wang Jie, Liu Ling and Ruan Ji.” Shaw’s face is pretty much expressionless, and there aren't many fluctuations in his tone. “The one sitting down with his hands on his knees at the far right is Shan Tao. The one holding the ruyi sceptre is Wang Tao. The one next to him and drinking wine is Liu Ling. A boy is serving him. The one at the far left needs no mention - he’s the first of the Sages, Ruan Ji. So this painting is missing Ji Tang, Xiang Xiu and Ruan Xian.”

“...”

The surroundings gradually quieten down, and only Shaw’s voice echoes in front of the showcase.

"The scholars in this painting evoke a refined and tasteful sentiment, and the lines are beautiful. This is an extremely precious treasure in the realm of silk scrolls. This is why the ‘Painting of the Elevated and Pre-eminent’ has always been kept in the royal palace. It’s a pity that in order for our predecessors to avoid taboos, only Si Ma Zhong’s inscription is left on it.”

The youth lifts his chin, shooting a playful smile at the guide. “Okay Uncle, you can explain the next museum piece now.”

“Shaw, you’re incredible!” His classmates flock over to him, bumping him on the shoulders. “You were staring at that painting for such a long time. Did you memorise the words on the museum label?”

“Tch. These’s no need to memorise the museum labels for such things. You’ll know it from a glance.” Shaw laughs. “Also, I wasn’t looking at this painting...” When he says this, he pauses for a moment, swallowing his words.

If he wasn’t looking at this painting, which one was he looking at? The students follow Shaw’s gaze, and realise that there’s a floral painting hanging next to the “Painting of the Elevated and Pre-eminent”.

“Painting of a Courtyard and Dayliles”, Northern Song Dynasty, Xuan He Imperial Art Academy, anonymous... The students read the explanatory note on the museum label.

[Trivia] If you’re interested in seeing the actual painting, search for “霜庭萱草图” (“shuang ting xuan cao tu”)

The painting seems to depict a corner of a courtyard. A few daylilies display the patterns on their leaves. One big and one small dragonfly are perched on the flower. Aside from that, there isn’t anything else interesting about it. This painting doesn’t seem to have a name or seal, neither does it have a detailed explanation. Even the guide skipped past it. Since it isn’t a rare and precious ancient painting, what exactly was Shaw looking at?

His classmates are a little puzzled.

[ Chapter Five ]

All the classes assemble in lines at the entrance of the museum. The teacher very patiently reminds the students not to forget to do their homework over the weekend, and to remember to write down their reflections about the museum. The students drawl out “got it”, but their hearts have long since flown a million miles away, ready to keep toys and snacks company.

“Shaw!” After dispersing, Shaw’s classmates wave at him.

Shaw walks over. “What’s up?”

“All of us know that you aren’t in a good mood because you lost to a senior in skateboarding yesterday. Isn’t it your birthday? Bro Lu bought the newest game, so let’s head over to play at his place.” His classmate smiles while putting an arm around his shoulder.

“Who told you that I lost yesterday?” Shaw speaks coldly.

“Who else but Fatty? He was so proud yesterday.” The classmate gives Shaw a pat. “Relax, we’re on your side. Don’t think about these unhappy things. Next time, we’ll have lots of opportunities to get revenge...”

“If I wanted revenge, I wouldn’t wait till next time.” Shaw purses his lips. “I’m heading to the skatepark now. You guys coming?”

Since it’s the weekend, quite a number of skateboard hobbyists are already practising by the time Shaw reaches the skatepark. Very quickly, he locates Bro Zhou from yesterday.

Shaw gets straight to the point. “I lost yesterday. Today, I want to have a race with you. Do you accept?”

A hint of shock is in Bro Zhou’s eyes. He has probably never met a kid who is this unwilling to lose. “You fell so badly yesterday but still want to compete with me? You should practise more!”

“There’s no need to practise more when competing with you,” Shaw says.

With this, Bro Zhou’s temper starts to flare. He tilts his chin. “Fine, come on. Just don’t cry if you fall and break your arm today.”

A short while later, the news of how a “junior high school newbie dared to challenge Bro Zhou from the Qing Xun Team” spreads throughout the skatepark. Everyone gathers at both sides of the race course, curiously sizing up the main lead for today.

“S-Shaw...” His classmate pulls on Shaw’s arm. Looking at the deep bowl in front, he gulps. “Are you sure you’re competing with him in this? It won’t be good news if you fall!”

“If I want to play, of course I’ll only play the fun stuff. Just watch.”

Shaw walks to the starting line and takes a deep breath. When moving his limbs, his hand subconsciously touches the hem of the t-shirt - there’s a small Chinese trumpet vine. The green leaves and red petals cover the hole which was originally on the shirt. It’s just that the stitches are crooked, and it’s incredibly crude. At a glance, it’s clear that it wasn’t sewn by someone familiar with needlework.

[Fun fact] Chinese trumpet vine is 凌霄花 (“ling xiao hua”)

Shaw’s name in CN is 凌肖 (“ling xiao”)

Mentor is the best <3

He bites his lower lip.

The referee raises both hands. “The old rules apply. After getting past the Cola can obstacles, cross the bowl. The first person who reaches the goal will win. Ready... go!”

In the midst of a clamour, a bluish purple light rushes forward, taking the lead.

[ Chapter Six ]

The friction of wheels against the ground results in ear-piercing screeches. The skateboard brings Shaw forward at a high speed, and the cold strong wind accompanies the summer heat waves, brushing past his cheeks. The upright Cola cans aren’t enough to faze him. With the continuous twisting of his waist and a skateboard which moves naturally like flowing water, he and his opponent seem to bypass the obstacles comprising of twelve Cola cans at the same time-

There are three consecutive rows of Cola can structures in front of him. He has to use all sorts of techniques to jump over them. That way, he can rush down the bowl, and enter the final stage.

The arm he injured from the fall yesterday is still aching faintly. His feet seem to be protesting as well. He successfully jumps over the first row, the second row... Shaw holds his breath. He steps on the tail of the skateboard with his left foot. Gravity takes over quickly, and his right foot causes the skateboard to rise. The skateboard beneath his feet is akin to a flying fish jumping out of the water surface, creating a rotating arc above the Cola cans!

“It’s a dolphin flip!” Members of the audience exclaim.

Clack! Shaw’s shoulders wobble slightly when his feet return to the skateboard. When he finally stands steadily, he continues rushing forward. The final bowl is right in front of him.

The moment the skateboard dives downwards, Shaw feels a brief moment of weightlessness. This feeling is reminiscent of being thrown out of the entire world, making one want to continue falling like this until they plummet into the bottom of the swamp. The deep bowl is like the trough he’s currently going through. If he’s unable to climb out of the trough, he will drown in hatred, anger, powerlessness, disappointment... and lose to that weak heart of his.

But he’s Shaw, and he won’t lose just like that.

With a rapid dash, he soars upwards without trouble - underneath the brilliant blazing sun, the youth leaps out of the bowl!

After flying out of the bowl, the inertia causes Shaw to stumble a few steps. He falls onto the ground, lying on his back while pressing the finish line.

At the same time, he hears a dull thud from the bowl - his opponent had fallen back into it.

“Shaw won!” “Shaw reached the goal first!” “That rascal actually won against Bro Zhou?” “This competition was so awesome!” ...all sorts of voices emerge in the surroundings in a disorderly fashion, and a set of footsteps walk towards him.

“Your name’s Shaw?” A masculine voice asks from above his head.

Shaw doesn't speak.

“I’m Coach Wang from Loveland City’s Qing Xun Skateboarding Team,” that voice continues. “I see that you have lots of talent, and will make a good young successor. Are you interested in joining the Qing Xun Team?”

While saying this, a registration form is handed to him.

The late afternoon sun illuminates the sheet of paper, reflecting a glaring light akin to snow. Shaw takes one look at the registration form, then shifts his lips slightly. “I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“My shirt’s really expensive, so it isn’t worth tearing them.”

The coach is rendered speechless.

Just as he’s about to say a few more words to persuade the kid, he suddenly spots the small flower at the corner of Shaw’s shirt from his periphery - this is clearly not an expensive t-shirt. These days, few shirts are mended using embroidery. And the fact that he’s willing to wear it despite the clumsy embroidery...

This kid has family members whom he cares very much about. The coach seems to understand this. His lips open and shut, and he swallows back the lines he prepared. In the end, he simply says, “...that dolphin flip you did earlier wasn’t bad.”

“Of course.”

The coach laughs as he leaves. Amidst the cheers from the surroundings, Shaw lies on the ground. Covering his eyes with his hand, he laughs.

“I won. Happy birthday to me.”

🛹 Shaw’s Date Prologue: here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc shaw

80 notes · View notes

angellesword · 4 years

Text

YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (05)

Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It's simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if...Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively:

"A future without you is a world without color."

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

SERIES: CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 6

The best thing about Red was that she wasn't just your assistant; she was also your friend.

Your one and only girl confidant.

Growing up, you didn't really have a lot of friends. It was probably because you used to be so shy.

Unlike other children, you weren't forced by your parents to interact with kids your age. Why would they do that when you already had everything you needed?

You had the latest toys so you didn't have to play tag or hide and seek with your neighbors. You were also a smart girl. You didn't need to ask for your classmates' help. The only weakness your parents saw was the fact that you only excelled in the academic field. You weren't blessed with a golden voice. You couldn't dance, you couldn't ride a bike. You couldn't even do the basic household chore.

This was all because you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth. You didn't have to try harder. You had a handmaiden to do all sort of things for you. Your parents paid the school so that you wouldn't have to attend P.E classes or any other extracurricular activities.

You were contented to be alone in your big, princess-like room.

In fact, you only met Jimin, your best friend who was two years younger than you, during college days. He was your classmate in your first ever P.E class. You were already a junior that time. You thought you could skip P.E the way you did in high school, but you were wrong. You ended up in Jimin’s class that time.

The two of you didn’t stop being friends after the semester ended. Actually, you guys became even closer. Jimin was the only person who was by your side when you were breaking down because of school. He cried with you, slept late with you, and he also set you up with a lot of his friends. Unfortunately, you weren't attracted to any of them. You weren't picky. You were just a sucker for soulmates and happy endings. His efforts didn't go to waste though. You became good friends with some of these guys. You were particularly close to Jung Hoseok, a boy your age who was in Jimin's dance class.

Hoseok was a great person, but you still craved the idea of having a girl best friend.

Luckily, you met Red.

You met her months ago—back when she was still a struggling student who was looking for a job in the company where you were working.

"And why would I hire someone like you?" Gahee, your co-worker, snarled at Red. The former didn't like the latter's answers during the interview portion. She said Red was too slow, too soft. She wasn't fit to become a lawyer like the rest of you.

"I'm sorry..." This was another issue. Red kept on apologizing. She had a very low self-esteem.

You knew right there and then that this girl wouldn't be hired. Out of the five interviewers, you were certain that you're the only one who was in favor of this intern.

Why?

It was because Red reminded you of your younger self.

As stated, you were a shy kid. But then law school changed you. To survive, you needed to act tough—you constantly needed put on a mask just so you could reach the 'standard' of what a lawyer should be like.

Most of the time, it worked. There were cases, however, wherein you became clouded by your own judgment. Some of your colleagues said you were too empathetic—always rescuing people from their misery.

You were doing it again.

"I'm going to hire her." These were your exact words just as Red was about to leave.

She stopped walking. Red turned to look at you. Confusion was apparent all over her face. Were you serious?

The other interviewers couldn't believe the words that came out of your mouth, so naturally, they protested.

You simply raised your brow at them.

"I said what I said. She's going to be my new assistant." You pointed at Red who still looked so shocked.

"But we don't want to work with her!" Gahee groaned.

"So?"

Gahee's face turned pale because of your response. You arched your brow higher.

"It doesn't matter if you don't want her. She's going to work for me."

The interviewers went silent.

You see, no one could ever question your decision. You might be 'too soft' for some of them, but they still couldn't deny that you were damn good at your job. Your personality in the office was very different from what your family and friends knew. For them, you would always be that quiet little girl who couldn't speak for herself. In here, you were young, but sophisticated. A lion in a world full of kittens.

"Ms. Red Lee's my responsibility from now on. If you have a problem with her, you can talk to me."

This was the beginning of your friendship with Red. At first, she was skeptical of your intention. Why would you want to work with someone like her?

"Because I believe in you." You offered her a smile when she finally found the courage to ask you the question that had been bothering her since the first time she met you.

Red had been your assistant for months now; however, your co-workers still didn't like her. It was as though they were waiting for her to make a mistake.

She did.

"How's our case going? Did our client take the color vision test?" You inquired days before the trial of your client who wanted to sue the business person who sold her fake whitening products. This was a simple case. You didn't understand why your client wanted to go to trial; this could simply be settled without going to the court.

"There's no need for that. I've already talked to her."

"Hm?"

"Well..." Red took a seat beside you. She was blushing. "Remember when I told you I've met my soulmate?"

"Oh. Right!" You beamed at her. How lucky. "So did you break up with JK?"

Red told you she had a boyfriend named JK. You honestly didn't know much about him or their relationship, though you were informed that they had been together for almost a decade, unfortunately, they weren't soulmates.

"I did." The smile she gave you was sad. "But he didn't take it well..."

You didn't know what to say after that. Admittedly, you had urged Red to breakup with her boyfriend because you didn't appreciate that she was keeping him in the dark. It was unfair.

"But anyway," Red sounded so excited that you couldn't help but giggle. "I've talked to your client. I'm sure she can see color since her answer was right when I asked her if she can tell me the color of the shirt I'm wearing."

"Okay, then."

It was stupid of you to rely on Red's words and you knew it. This was the reason why you couldn't defend yourself when your boss humiliated you in front of everyone. As if that wasn't awful enough, your superior also excluded you from the biggest case you were working on.

Gahee was the new head of that case.

"I'm sorry!" Red was crying. You took accountability for what she had done. She was your assistant after all.

"It's okay, Red." You smiled despite the fact that you were breaking inside. Your boss made you look like a fool. You couldn't erase the image of your colleagues smirking that was circling inside your head.

You were no longer a lion.

"I-It's not okay! You lost the case!" She knew that you spent months working on the mentioned case your boss removed you from. Everyone was jealous of you. They wanted to handle that case. Now, Gahee had the chance. You lost yours.

You embraced Red. You couldn't bear to see anyone crying.

"But I'm still handling Mr. Kim Seokjin's case." You stared into her eyes. "That's the only case I want to handle. Trust me."

Red sobbed even harder. She understood what you meant. You lost the biggest case, but at least you were still Mr. Kim's lawyer. Again, his case was more important to you and Red.

"I'm going home. Is that okay? Can you handle yourself?" You couldn't work with a heavy heart. You needed to see Miri. You needed a bath. You needed a break.

Fortunately, Red let you go.

Ever since that day, your assistant became more hyperaware of your needs and wants. She was certain she owed you a lot. This was the reason why you couldn't understand why Jeongguk was crying now.

"G-Gukkie?" You swallowed hard when you saw tears streaming down his cheeks.

Again, Red knew what you needed. You were sure she gave you the correct recipe for kongnamul guk. So why was Jeongguk weeping as he ate the soup you made?

It couldn't be because it didn't taste good. You followed Red's recipe. It was perfect! Everyone loved her soup.

Your soulmate didn't answer you. He also refused to look at you. It was embarrassing enough that you could see his overflowing emotions.

Jeongguk wondered why the world was so cruel to him. He woke up a few minutes ago with a heavy head, and then the first thing he spotted was you.

You were standing near his feet; a lovely smile was plastered on your face. Jeongguk didn't understand why you were grinning at him like that.

Weren't you mad? He remembered everything that happened last night. He acted like an asshole.

Jeongguk's suspicion grew when you handed him an ibuprofen and a glass of water. Not only that, you also told him that you cooked soup to help him with his throbbing head. He was too tired and shy to refuse you, so without saying anything, he let you drag him to the dining table.

You prepared everything for Gukkie. The only thing he had to do was eat. The thing was, he couldn't even do that.

Tears filled his eyes the moment he tasted the soup. He was looking directly at you while bring the spoon closer to his mouth—this was how you acted last night. This was what pissed him off. You were scowling, making him feel like he was the worst cook ever.

How was he different from you when he was acting the same way? The only thing that changed was his expression. As said, he was crying instead of frowning.

It broke your heart.

"Say something please?" You begged. You felt your chest tightening. Did you make him cry? Were you wrong? Red's recipe was perfect, maybe it was you who fucked things up. Did you put too much salt? Too much bean sprout?

What was wrong?

Jeongguk shook his head, harshly wiping his tears away. He didn't say anything. He didn't make it seem like he hated the soup. Actually, he finished it within a few minutes.

"I'm going to my room." He abruptly stood up, hanging his head low.

"T-Thanks for the food."

The way Jeongguk acted made you realize that you couldn't really cook, not even when the perfect recipe was literally in front of you; however, this didn't stop you from making dinner that same day.

Your soulmate locked himself in his room since morning. He hadn't eaten anything other than that soup and frankly, you were getting worried. You didn't want him to get sick.

It was going to take a while to have your food delivered, so you just decided to cook instant ramen. It had always been your life savior.

"What are you doing?"

You stopped trying to open the stove when Jeongguk suddenly spoke up.

He instantly realized what you were doing, causing him to grimace.

"You can't eat instant ramen for the rest of your life, you know? It's very unhealthy." Jeongguk shook his head, disappointed.

You bit your lower lip. It was the only food you knew how to prepare by heart. You didn't want to upset him again by trying to cook something that didn't taste good.

"I'm gonna prepare our dinner." He announced and you nodded.

You were starving. It was Sunday, but you still needed to work. You stayed in the living room the whole day, talking to Mr. Kim Seokjin about his case. Miri wasn't around to keep you company. That cat of yours stayed with Jeongguk the whole day. What a traitor.

"Okay. I'll be in my room if ever you need help." You said.

"Wait!" Jeongguk held your wrist, stopping you from leaving.

"I-Is gimbap okay?" His voice was soft as he asked this. He realized he needed to talk to you about your likes and dislikes. He couldn't just prepare something and get mad if you ended up disliking it.

"Uh..."

Jeongguk could feel your hesitation. It wasn't like you hated gimbap, but you had too much of it yesterday. Red made twenty five pieces when you told her you were craving it.

"Tell you what," Jeongguk let go of your hand. "Why don't we just eat out? Do you like pizza? What about pasta?"

He kept on suggesting food you could try, but nothing was registering inside your mind. The only thing you could think of was this:

"We're going on a date?" Your eyes were sparkling.

"What?" Jeongguk asked, dumbfounded. Out of the many things he had said, this was the only thing you could think about?

"You said we're gonna eat outside! It means we're going on a date!" You were smiling shamelessly.

Jeongguk's eyes widened. He was panicking. He didn't know why his heart was beating so fast just by the thought of going out on a date with you.

"I-I..." He swallowed hard. "We could invite T-Tae and Jimin."

Jeongguk panicked more upon realizing what he just said. No. He couldn't bear to see his best friend right now. Jeongguk hadn't told anyone that he could see colors now—well, except Yoongi.

Jeongguk wasn't ready yet. He felt guilty. He knew he was the reason why you couldn't see colors. He didn't want Taehyung and Jimin to be disappointed in him. Besides, he didn't want the couple to pester him about liking you. Again, that wasn't going to happen.

Jeongguk was about to withdraw his statement, unfortunately, you were already telling him that it was a good idea.

"So how are you, Guk?"

This was the story how Jeongguk ended up eating sushi with Taehyung.

The couple accepted your invitation. The four of you were supposed to eat together, but Jimin claimed he needed to talk to you. Alone.

Taehyung didn't protest. He missed Jeongguk too. It had been a while since they last talked. This was the perfect time to finally catch up.

"Nothing new." Jeongguk shrugged nonchalantly.

"Really?" Taehyung raised a brow. He could tell when his best friend was hiding something. "So you don't consider being able to see colors as something new, huh?"

Jeongguk's head jerked up.

"You know!?"

Taehyung laughed. Of course he knew. You told Jimin and Jimin told Taehyung. The latter was simply waiting for Jeongguk to open up.

He couldn't wait forever though. Jeongguk could be stubborn sometimes.

"She also told us that you cried earlier..."

Jeongguk pursed his lips into a thin line. Damn it. You couldn't keep anything to yourself, could you?

"I did not." Jeongguk gritted his teeth. The tears forming in his eyes were in contrast to what he was saying.

Jeongguk indeed cried earlier. Taehyung could tell because the younger boy was crying again.

"Guk..." Taehyung caressed Jeongguk's clenched fist.

"Wanna tell your hyung what happened?" The voice of Jeongguk's best friend was like a lullaby.

Jeongguk cried even harder.

Truthfully, he was surprised with himself too. Jeongguk had always been emotional, but his stubborn ass refused to let other people see him cry. This was new. The Jeongguk Taehyung knew would keep his mouth shut.

The Jeongguk today couldn't stop talking.

"I got so drunk last night, hyung. She..." Jeongguk looked at Taehyung to make sure that he understood that the she he was referring to was you.

"She cooked kongnamul guk for me."

Taehyung was silent after that. He tried to understand what Jeongguk was saying. Sadly, he couldn't.

"Are you telling me that you're crying because she prepared a soup for you?" Taehyung sounded unsure.

Jeongguk shook his head; tears were still streaming down his cheeks.

"No. I was just reminded of..." He trailed off.

"Of what?"

For a moment, Jeongguk was silent. His heart was hurting.

"Of the mean things I've said to her." Jeongguk sobbed.

It was a bad idea to look at you while he was trying to eat. Jeongguk's eyes accidentally fell into your lips. It was swollen—a reminder that you still ate the garlic shrimp even though you were allergic to it.

Jeongguk felt like an evil person.

Why were you always so kind to him? No one treated him the way you treated him. It was too good to be true.

"Oh." Taehyung broke into a huge grin and suddenly, he was chuckling.

"What's so funny?" Jeongguk was talking in a pout.

"Nothing!" The best friend's laugh had died down, but he was still smiling. "Is she tricking me, then? Can't she really see colors?"

For Taehyung, it was impossible that you were still living a monochromatic life. It was obvious that Jeongguk cared for your feelings. However, Jimin thought the opposite.

"Seriously? God. I hate that brat so much!" Jimin didn't know that he was capable of hating Jeongguk, but after listening to your story, he couldn't help the annoyance he felt for your soulmate.

You were currently inside a restaurant that was just across the sushi bar where Jeongguk and his boyfriend were at.

Jimin missed you as much as Taehyung missed his best friend. The last time you two communicated was three weeks ago. You did tell him that Jeongguk was your soulmate and that he didn't seem to like you.

Jimin brushed it off at first. He told you to give Jeongguk some time. He failed to tell you that your soulmate just went through a tough breakup though. Jimin knew it wasn't his story to tell.

"Don't. Gukkie's a good person. He just didn't know any better."

"It’s because he isn't trying!" Jimin crossed his arms. He was aware that it was unfair to get mad at Jeongguk, but your best friend could tell that you were getting hurt because of your soulmate's insensitivity.

"If I were you, I would give up on him."

You shook your head instead of agreeing to his statement.

"Jeongguk reminds me of law school."

When Jimin raised his brow, you started to elucidate what you meant.

No one, not even your parents, believed in you when you told them you were going to law school. Sure, you were smart, but you weren't strong like others. You cry immediately. You couldn't handle harsh opinions. You couldn't even handle sleepless nights and intense competition. You hated conflict. You had always been a mediator.

Even Jimin tried to stop you. He asked you so many times if you truly wanted this. It's not that he didn't trust you. Your best friend was only concerned about your well-being. He was there when you were having a difficult college semester. Undergraduate life was clearly much easier compared to graduate school. Jimin couldn't let you lose yourself just because of law school.

But you were determined to prove them wrong. Yes, law school was hard, but you were stronger. If you remained passionate about learning the law, you knew you would become a lawyer.

Guess what? You did.

This was what you were holding onto every time you felt like giving up on Jeongguk.

Pain was nothing if you could make him fall in love with you.

"Jeon Jeongguk!" You shouted when you saw Taehyung and your soulmate walking out of the sushi bar.

You and Jimin had also finished eating.

Your soulmate looked at you with furrowed brow. He didn't understand why you were shouting when the two of you were just a few meters away from each other.

"I LIKE YOU!" You shouted once again. Your voice was so loud that people couldn't help but look at you.

You were gaining attention.

Taehyung and Jimin were laughing their asses off. Jeongguk tried to run away, but his best friend held him down.

"You're fucking crazy!" Jimin shook his head, still laughing when you started to form a big heart over your head.

"I LIKE YOU SO MUCH, JEON JEONGGUK." You continued.

Jeongguk was dying of embarrassment, but you didn't care.

You were sure.

Jeon Jeongguk was going to love you.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook friends to lovers #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jungkook enemies to lovers #jungkook e2l #jungkook series #jungkook soulmate au #jungkook roommate au #jungkook sugar baby au #ficswithluv #bangtan #btsfanfic #vmin fluff

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weirdkpopgirl · 3 years

Text

Protect Her | pjs

Title: Protect Her

Genre: Enemies to Lover AU/Romance/Angst

Warnings: mentions of abuse, slight swearing

A/N: This was requested by a lovely anon. I hope you like it there will be at least 2-3 parts for this story!

Word Count: 1236

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Since the day they were born, Park Jongseong and Kim Y/n have been proclaimed enemies. Why was that? Well, the Park and Kim Household have been known to be competing rivals for decades.

Both families ran highly successful and wealthy companies. A little competition of which company was better was expected, wasn’t it? So it was only natural that their grandchildren would hate each other too. This was the environment Jay and Y/n were forced to grow up in.

All their lives, their parents encouraged them to compete with each other, and compete with each other was what they did. From sports to academics, they were always neck and neck. With Jay and Y/n’s agonistic relationship, it wouldn’t be a surprise that the family rivalry would continue to the next generation. But everything took a turn in their senior year of high school.

“Wah Kim Y/n scored the first rank on the exams again,” Jay’s friend, Jake said.

Jay scoffed, “So what? I don’t see the big deal.”

“And what place are you in this time?” Sunghoon asked.

Jay’s eyes flashed with irritation, “Yah, shut up! I’m at least in the top ten.”

Sunghoon and Jake snickered amongst each other. Jay turned to see Y/n standing where the board of their exam results was posted. He could hear her friends and classmates congratulate her on getting first place again. Her responses to all of them were full of shy smiles and polite “thank yous.” Jay would be lying if he said that watching it didn’t irritate him at all.

“Let’s just go,” Jay muttered, walking past his two friends.

Jake and Sunghoon exchanged sighs before quickly catching up to him. Despite the pleasure they took in teasing their friend, they didn’t want to take chances in making Jay any angrier.

“I still don’t understand,” Jake nudged Jay’s elbow. “Why do you hate Y/n? She’s so kind.”

“Yeah but not to me,” Jay pointed out. “You have no idea how annoying she is.”

Jay didn’t want to explain it any further. Frankly, he couldn’t fully explain why he didn’t like Y/n to himself. Yeah, their parents hated each other’s guts. Jay always thought of Y/n as the quiet and polite goody-two-shoes who didn’t know how to have fun. Whereas Y/n thought the male was loud, obnoxious, and egotistical.

Whenever he was forced to be around Y/n she somehow managed to remain both polite and irk him at the same time. It was clear that she wasn’t very fond of him. But she was never very vocal about it as Jay was.

“Isn’t she and her family going to be at that business party tonight?” Sunghoon then asked, earning a solid glare from Jay.

“Oh, thanks for reminding me Sunghoon-ah, that completely slipped my mind!” Jay said sarcastically.

To him, it was just another one of those stupid parties where snobbish CEOs came together to boast about their recent and current successes. They used their children as an additional trophy to show how much better their families were thriving than the others.

The thought of it all made Jay sick. If it was up to him, he wouldn’t go at all. But he didn’t want to deal with the wrath of his parents scolding him, so he had no choice but to attend.

The only good part about tonight’s events was that Jake would be at the party. Jake was also the son of a rich CEO except his family was more humble about it.

Sunghoon didn’t come from a super-wealthy family like he and Jake. But he already had his future set up as a figure skater. Ice skating was clearly something that Sunghoon was passionate about. Jay couldn’t help but envy that. Being the heir to his father’s company wasn’t exactly what he’d consider his dream job.

“It’ll be fine, Hyung,” Jake reassured him. “I got your back.”

Oh, how Jay hoped that tonight wouldn’t be as bad as he anticipated it to be.

~ ~ ~

The school day was finally over and Jay for once wasn’t itching to leave. Sunghoon and Jake weren’t outside yet, so Jay walked around a bit as he waited for them. That was when he saw two people talking at the corner of the school building. They seemed to be trying to avoid others joining in on their conversation.

Jay mentally groaned when he saw that it was Y/n and her boyfriend, Choi Jungwoo. The two had started dating a few months ago, not that Jay cared.

“Let’s go hang out with my friends,” Jungwoo said to Y/n.

“I can’t today Jungwoo-ah. I have homework to do,” She responded quietly. “And Eomma wants me to come home early to prepare for the party tonight.”

“Aish you’re such a buzzkill Y/n-ah,” He whined. “Do your homework later, I want to show you off to my friends.”

Y/n tightened her grip on her bag. She wanted to tell Jungwoo that she wasn’t some shiny prize to brag around to others. But she was afraid of what would happen to her if she did.

“I’m sorry, Jungwoo-ah,” She smiled at the taller male. “Maybe I can join you and your friends tomorrow.”

Jay shook his head to himself, what was he even doing here? He should just go and find his friends. He was about to leave until he saw Jungwoo's demeanor change.

The annoyed expression on Jungwoo’s face quickly turned into anger. Without holding back his impulses, the boy harshly slapped his girlfriend across the face.

“AH!” Y/n yelped, stumbling back at the impact of his hit.

“Aish you always say that,” Jungwoo’s eyes darkened. “Do you think I’m an idiot, Y/n-ah?”

Y/n pressed her hand against her now stinging cheek, “I-I’m not lying. You-you know how my parents are, Jungwoo-ah. They want me to focus on my studies.”

“Yeah, and it was your mother who wanted us to be together,” Jungwoo spat.

“I swear if your parents weren’t rich, I would’ve never even thought about dating a boring girl like you.”

Jay watched as Y/n looked away, trying not to let Jungwoo see her cry. There were a million things he wanted to say and do, but instead, Jay found himself walking away from the scene. He couldn’t force himself to stay any longer to see what else would happen.

He didn’t know what to think. He just saw Jungwoo violently hit his girlfriend. She wasn’t even doing anything, Jungwoo just didn’t like that Y/n had other things to do. Did he beat her often? As he walked further away, he began to regret not doing anything.

When Jake and Sunghoon met up with Jay, they questioned why he looked so angry. But Jay didn’t want to talk about it, he was still trying to comprehend what had just happened.

Usually, he didn’t hesitate to do the right thing when something was wrong. Somehow it felt different because it was Y/n. Of course, he should’ve been upset, anyone would be if they just saw that. But Jay felt more than upset, he was furious. She was his enemy but he hated the idea of someone hurting her when she did nothing wrong. It pissed him off.

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#enhypen #enhypenwriters #enhypen jay #park jongseong #angst #romance #enemies to lovers #jay #drama

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callme--starchild · 3 years

Text

I Could Do About Anything

Della was able to see all angles, she was sure of that since she was a child. She couldn't remember if it was a skill that she had always had or that she developed as she grew up, but it was undeniable that it was there. Also, there were other possibilities that the sight of it offered her, and that was to read people, particularly her brother.

Of course, there were non-believers (including Donald himself) who claimed otherwise, and there were others who argued that it was because they were twins that Della was able to know what he thought, and that was partially true. Because while there were times when they found themselves thinking the same thing, the truth was that both also worked individually, and Donald himself was a different world from her.

A world that was commonly incomprehensible to many, including her. Not exactly because of the way her brother speaks, but because of the way he acts. It was not a secret that they were completely opposite, even Della had heard such comments since they were in high school, and she knew that he did as well because of the erratic way in which his behavior changed despite remaining like the typical shy boy from the corner.

Perhaps that was why she had sensed the discomfort of her twin throughout the journey, even if she was a few kilometers from him and even if she turned her back to him, as if it were a gentle breeze brushing her feathers and fiddling with her clothes. Her gaze remained focused on the sky, a path that she recognized on the way and that she recognized back; however, a part of her was focused on the conversations that were going on behind her. Goofy chatted with the children, Max's name popping over and over with such a familiar fondness that it left an emptiness in the pilot's stomach,

(Especially since it reminded her of her brother while talking about the triplets, but it didn't make sense: would Goofy have a child?

Her brother always got on better with him than her, but she had always known him as a loving guy, and surely she would have known of a child before she had taken the Spear of Selene; particularly what will his wife be like? She must be very gallant if she, again, had managed to conquer Goofy of all people.

Which, in turn, made her wonder about Mickey and Minnie, because so far the only clue she has had since her return has been that melon that Donald had with him on the island and—)

on the other hand, and now that she had stopped talking to LP, she could hear her brother having a pleasant conversation with Agent— Beakley. And though Della couldn't figure out what they were talking about, her hands were shaking on the wheel. Because Donald's desire kept tickling her mind.

Specifically, on his reason for asking it.

Not having to worry about the family being captured or lost.

"Della." Her uncle's calloused hands on hers made her blink, and she returned to focus on the flight — much to the extent that Launchpad took care of it to her apparent distraction, though she did let her uncle know that she was listening to him with a gesture, "are ye okay? Ye've bin very… quiet since we got on the plane."

In fact? No. At least, not quite. Lost, lost. Lost. The word poked at her brain incessantly, and it frustrated her.

Della cherished having discussed the Spear's topic with the children, and having her uncle's support despite yelling at each other — it was to be expected, though, with their tempers. However, she acknowledged that she still owed her twin a conversation; not only about the rift that she had formed between them a decade ago, but also about the time when he was the one who was on the moon and her apparent disinterest when he told her through that bizarre melon. Her brother had always been someone who refused to talk, particularly if it involved his feelings, but he had even refused to speak after the invasion and it made her stomach clench.

Lost.

Della knew she was lost even when she returned to her home. From the terrible second impression with her uncle to the relationship with her kids. She had no idea how to be a mother, she had barely read a thing or two even when she was waiting for the triplets because her thoughts were more focused on the world behind that stardust she saw through her window after every adventure, and when she landed on the Moon her priority had been to repair the rocket and return to Earth. Instead, her brother had read all the books on parenting the moment he discovered that she was waiting, and even she could claim that he had been made from other sources that she was still unaware of to date.

Her mind had always been in the clouds and that had led her to be stranded in space without being able to develop her motherhood. But Donald had always been on Earth, being the father and mother of her sons; But having wished Gene for a normal and perfect family, she had a feeling that perhaps it could be something more.

"Yeah, yeah, Uncle Scrooge," she said in a distant voice; though she knew she had been slow to respond, her uncle's concerned expression confirmed it once she returned to concentrating enough on the vast stage in front of her, “but I need to think a few things. Launchpad, would you mind continuing the flight to the mansion?"

Of course, the other driver was an incarnate sunbeam, and he only responded with a thumbs up and a smile without reciting any words or questions before taking the wheel again.

But no matter which direction her mind took, they all came to the same conclusion: she should speak to Donald soon.

It was with that thought in mind that she headed for the houseboat, feeling her shoulders grow heavier as she approached. The triplets and Webby were watching TV, and she had literally seen Beakley in the kitchen not long ago. Scrooge had retired to his office with Isabella's journal and Duckworth was away, doing ghost things; ergo, there was no one who could interrupt her during her conversation with her self-proclaimed best friend, but that did little to relax her and, otherwise, made her tenser. Not just because it wasn't a secret that Donald was more emotional, the lamp incident had proved it to her, but because with their infamous temperaments it was a lousy combination in case the situation got out of control, what if …?

When she was least aware of it, her metal foot stepped onto the hatch that gave her access to the boat. And even though she knew it was more sensible to go to the door and knock, especially remembering how strict her brother had been about his privacy from their distant adolescence — that, on second thought, it made no sense when it came to Donald because: what could he hide from everyone that required a dress code that never existed? —, the truth was that she was very impatient to discuss this issue to walk the deck only to go to the bow and also wait to be attended.

No. If she was going to do this she was going to do it now, and with that conviction, she raised the hatch.

"Donald, listen. I know I'm coming unannounced, but you and I have to…" Down the stairs, her words died in her throat when she saw the aforementioned accompanied by… a strange-looking duck, who had also become tense at her presence. They appeared to be looking at a framed photo, but the abrupt way in which they parted, as if they had been caught doing something wrong, did not go unnoticed.

This puzzled Della much more than expected, perhaps due to the fact that...

"Dumbella! I told you to knock.” Donald was really calm, when he used to be on the alert for a visit from any stranger. If that in itself was strange, he just looked a bit annoyed at her sudden entrance.

"Don't worry, D," however, his features seemed to relax when said stranger addressed him, approaching to murmur something that caused him to stifle a laugh. That definitely didn't twist something in his stomach.

Her brother looked relaxed, off guard, more cheerful than she could remember, and it took the pilot out of focus on the reasons that brought her to the houseboat in the first place. Sure, she remembered seeing him like this during junior high and high school with Mickey and Goofy, or in college with José and Panchito; but right now there was something in his gaze that she was unable to define.

Particularly, there was the fact that her brother used to chat about the antics he did with his friends all the time, and the visits did not wait when they were in the mansion on an almost daily basis, not to mention the multiple sleepovers that her little brother did per week.

In one way or another, they had adopted a small place under their roof, allowing her to know and grow fond of them, even if they got on better with her twin.

But this guy? She didn't recall Donald mentioning an outrageously dressed mallard, not even in a slip; there were no antecedents, there were no visits. Still, his calm in the face of this unfamiliar new face tickled the back of her neck, and she didn't like it.

"Er…" She cleared his throat, and it seemed that they too had been pigeonholed into their little bubble. There was also the look that this guy gave her at all times, as if he was watching her and reproaching her for some reason she did not know. "Donnie? Don't think I'm planned to be rude, but who is he?"

Having to fight her willpower not to point him out because Donald would scold her for the rudeness, she instead pointed her eyes at him, and the frown of her strange companion didn't soften - at least, not with her. That did less to reassure her, especially considering the way her brother's eyebrow arched in confusion, at least until he met his partner's gaze and his face lit up in an unusual way, and it lit a small sparkle in the pilot's gaze.

"Oh, where are my manners?" he exclaimed with a small blush blurring the feathers of his cheeks, and her desire to make fun of him increased but she was held back when she noticed that Donald was really sorry and her conversation with him continued in a pendulum.

"Easy, Ol-Don," he cleared his throat, letting his hand rest on the sailor's shoulder for a second, though of course, it would be enough for him to relax, before addressing her again with a serious face, all traces of complicity that he seems to have with her twin fading away.

And judging by the way his eyes widened, he noticed it too.

"Uno Ducklair, Donald's old friend. Nice to meet you.” His voice had certainly turned strict, enveloping in a dark aura that mystified Della as he shook her hand, with a smile that might look real if not for her keen eyesight.

She wasn't sure if the other duck in the residence would have noticed, but it seemed to be eyeing the blissful Uno with an indecipherable expression. Most disconcerting was the way he tried to hide his outstretched arm from her brother, as if he were trying to protect him.

But from who?

"Erm, I'm... Della Duck, Donald's sister. I'm sorry for the… intrusion, but I didn't know my brother was expecting visits" and she was really sorry, considering they both seemed to be in the middle of a chat when she arrived "nice to meet you."

Before shaking her hand with the mallard's, she sighing aloud at the grasp.

"Wow, you really have a strong hand, huh?" Laughing nervously, she heard her brother reproach her in the background.

But Uno knew.

Uno knew he wouldn't find himself in the Ducklair Tower again until years later as Odin Eidolon, when Donald and his adventures as Paperinik, as well as the friends and enemies they had made along the way, were nothing more than a vague memory in the abandoned lair. However, there he was: the tower reviving while he was reactivated and his data was transferred, the memories that he had kept hidden from his creator becoming overwhelming during the moments in which he became accustomed again to the environment that was the hiding place that once witnessed the tommyrot of two partners who saved the city and saw Anxieties in their spare time.

Uno knew that the first image in his database after that memorabilia was Donald's face, cheerful and full of life, always telling bad jokes as he faced Evronians and the misadventures of daily life. The glint in his gaze as he thought of the future with his nibling, who would later become nephews. And Uno knew that he should appreciate that look again, being almost instantaneously that he looked for his old fellow in the system while his arms were in charge of giving the last details to the body that had begun with so much care before being deactivated.

He had missed him, he had to confess. He was not ignorant that many of the machines of the time of his partner of crime were incapable of feeling any emotion; but after meeting Lyla and himself learning about them after his friend, that stereotype had been erased from his data or, in Donald's words, thrown out the window.

As he polished the finishing touches to what would be the new recipient of his data, he hadn't gone unnoticed the adding of some Gizmoduck and Darkwing Duck as saviors of the city. And though he found the absence of Paperinik alarming, that concern was forgotten the second he found the whereabouts of said vigilante.

In just a few minutes, an Artificial Intelligence had given way to an android that was heading to the McDuck Manor. That, while he took in every detail, feel, and color that the city was from a new perspective.

But as an AI, Uno's data was collected, and he was able to remember.

And he remembered every afternoon they watched every episode of Anxieties, new or old, while they both tried to disguise the effect that Saxony Starbright had on them and made a few comments about the plots and absurd twists that the writers made even if they used to be on the edge of the seat at such absurd twists like the hypocrites that they were.

He remembered every mission he did alongside Paperinik, being his eyes and ears in the tower as the hero took care of the casual villains and the Evronians in his umpteenth futile attempt to increase his army, as both would joke about it later while he checked the little scrapes and bruises between his feathers.

But he also remembered those wounds that were not generated by the occupational hazards, those occasions when Donald had to work harder and not smarter due to the adventures he faced every day in the company of his sister and his uncle. Those moments when he limped into the secret apartment, refusing to be checked to retire to put on the suit of his second job despite the reprimands he gave while Donald was dressing or when the situation was resolved, when the hero was too mentally and physically exhausted to fight the worrying intelligence.

When Donald was on the brink of hypothermia from some magical ice he was on.

When he came in exhaling a cocoa scent and trailing bright-colored plumage, his sensors detecting sensitive peck marks under his own feather coat, particularly in the cranial area.

Or each time he came in with more and more scars, his clothes shattered, bald spots, and even obvious bruises. Many times because of some crazy adventure, other times because he fought someone at school, the character of his partner added to the physical ability that he possessed from his self-induced training.

When he arrived depressed due to an argument with family members, because he refused to go out with them to the next hidden temple, because of his bad luck or even his cousin's getting in the way of each meeting, or because he was still not understood metaphorically and literally by his family or a third party.

For his family.

Uno did not know how, but until he discovered that Della was waiting even before Donald, the occasions in which he had seen him truly smile, at least with his family, could be easily counted and that because he had collected them, and on the other hand he really stood out when he was with friends, including him.

He really didn't want to feel some things unless they involved Donald, and while this technically involved his partner, he also knew the fondness he had for his family, so his confusion at his reaction was not only valid, but justifiable.

"Uno?" He blinked, and they knew what a relief it was for the sailor to mutter that name again even if there were no words in between, and even blinking out of his thoughts was so strange and wonderful to him, "Is everything okay?"

It was then that he recognized how nervous Della was in front of him, and tried not to feel joy at it because this was his best friend's sister and while he wanted her to fear and more, he did not want to get into an argument with Donald after a decade of estrangement and a lot of time to recover.

"Yes, yes, my apologies," and though he wasn't really sorry, it was gratifying to see Della tense enough because that was the least he feared every time Donald had to leave Duckburg with them. "I'm not that used to physical contact."

And well, that wasn't entirely a lie. Donald has been the one who has gotten him used to it, and that because he used to be very affectionate back in the tower, and getting used to the body was also new to him, but he did not know how much he had changed in recent years if the first thing he had done when he saw him was to keep clung.

But Della was watching them warily, and somehow both knew what the next question would be before it exited the pilot's peak:

"And how did you meet?"

"During the time you were in flight school," Donald began almost instantly, finally intervening between his sister and Uno even if he tried his best not to make it weirder than it already was, "I was looking for a part-time job and coincidentally Uncle Scrooge had just bought the Ducklair Tower so I started working there. Uno is... one of the sons of Everett Ducklair, the previous owner of the tower" Donald had to accept that his lying skills had rusted over the years — after raising the triplets on honesty, but the least he could do and he was grateful for was dancing around the truth because he had become the custodian of the Tower while his sister soared through the skies in search of her pilot's license, as uncomfortable as it was for him to even mention the name of his old friend's master's name.

But he also didn't want to know her reaction to knowing how involved he was with artificial intelligences, aliens, droids, and time travels. Especially when it was all over and it had been a lot to him at the time.

"Hmm, well Uncle Scrooge said you changed a lot while I was in school, that you had become more sensitive or something, and more alert," she commented out of nowhere and with a thoughtful expression, and Donald blinked after hearing someone snort, rolling his eyes after recognizing Uno's giggle even though a smile was visible on the edge of his beak, because if he had heard that several times during his time as a janitor and superhero, many times for teasing or bothering him, the truth was that he missed the teasing a lot — coming from his partner — because, unlike the ones he had heard on multiple occasions, they were not malicious. Besides the fact that facing bad boys had indeed helped his temper during his studies "it must have been for that. I guess I must thank you… Uno."

Still, neither of them missed the discomfort on Della's face, or the way she fiddled with her scarf, and her smile became strained as she spoke more.

Maybe it was because of the fact that Donald had secret friends? Because of the looks Uno gave her behind the back of his brother? Was it some older sister instinct that hadn't been around since high school coming to life and yelling at her to protect her brother from Uno at all costs?

And that was the hardest part, because Donald didn't look at all overwhelmed or alert by the mallard's presence. Indeed, she felt her twin relaxed in a way that only happened when he was with José and Panchito, and that had been while they were in college.

"I was just telling Uno to introduce him to the rest of the family, that you came in was a mere coincidence," Donald commented, with a smile so bright it puzzled Della, when was the last time you saw him so happy about something that surrounded him?

But she couldn't question it too much when Donald's face turned strange, blinking as his expression changed.

"What brings you here anyway? Not that it bothers me!" He clarified quickly, grinning nervously, and Della could have sworn the third duck's face turned warmer, and that was something she could share: she had also missed seeing Donald turn into the same nervous wreck as to when they were young adults. The duck cleared his throat and crossed both arms behind his back, “it's just, well, the only times you come unannounced are when you can't sleep. Now that I think about it, you seemed to want to tell me something… is everything okay?"

As he looked thoughtfully, he acknowledged that sooner or later he would have to talk to his sister about his desire and what happened next was more than evident. However, he did not expect it to happen so soon, and Donald preferred to wait once the situation with Uno was over and he had had enough time to think about what to say to her.

Unconsciously, that little consideration from the sailor had been enough for Della to remember what had dragged her into the boat in the first place, it can't be that she has forgotten so quickly!

However, the pilot couldn't help but wonder if now was the right time, especially seeing how calm it was in comparison to the cave. Actually, it was as if he had never had a breakdown in the first place.

She wanted to preserve that for a few more moments. Furthermore, she would never have known how to start that conversation even if she could chat with her brother at the time.

"It's not that important, it can wait." She shrugged, maintaining a serene expression that she now felt more sincere. If Donald noticed that tiny detail, he didn't say anything. "Don't you mind if I keep you company to the mansion? If anyone had the audacity to put up with my brother's plover head, it's worth knowing."

She olympically ignored her twin's reproach in favor of sneering at him, feeling satisfied when the mallard giggled despite the faint reddish tinge in the sailor's feathers.

"I don't see why not," Uno commented. And even though he still looked relatively tense, his shoulders looked more relaxed when he side hugged Donald. Della could not gloat over that small victory given the strange glint in Uno's eyes. It was a bit inhuman, though the pilot didn't want to jump to baseless conclusions, but they seemed to be on the alert, "but I'd rather wait: the plover head was thinking of wait and respond with the whole family present, he doesn't want to leave anything unsolved."

Unlike her, there seemed to be an iota of homesickness when he used the same nickname to poke fun at Donald, and though he rolled his eyes this time, an exhausted smile took place.

Della flinched when Donald suddenly raised his voice, his voice raspier with the effort.

"Family, can you come over for a second?!" Even Uno smiled, wincing at the future state of the sailor's throat. "I want you to meet someone!"

#el's fanfiction #one more wish au #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #paperinik #duck avenger #ducktales fanfiction #alternate universe #ducktales au #della duck #scrooge mcduck #donald duck #uno #duno if you squint #doesn't include finale spoilers

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ironmandeficiency · 3 years

Text

rain clouds

pairing: maxwell lord / reader

word count: 2813

summary: i don’t even know what to say abt this one except it’s filled with yearning

a/n: this was gonna be super soft and happy but then it got soft and sad and then soft and happy again. posting from mobile yet again. tbh idek if this makes a lick of sense, we will see

warnings: mentions of shitty parents (maxwell’s dad & alistair’s mom), hints at child neglect & cps, anxious max, don't worry it gets fluffy

maxwell lord hasn’t had a day off since he founded black gold cooperative. that business was his baby long before he had a living baby with his ex wife, and loved both just as much. there was no such thing as a “sick day” to max; any day spent sleeping or healing is a day lost in the pursuit of greatness, the pilgrimage to the top of the corporate food chain. the only one he would ever make an exception for is alistair, and even then work would sometimes interrupt.

there was a time, almost too long ago for him to vividly remember, where maxwell did more than work. when he actually got his hands dirty in something that didn’t have anything to do with corporate schemes, and laughed with genuine glee more often than scowled. it was a long time ago now, and no one would ever believe it if they were told that maxwell lord ever got dirty with, well, dirt.

“come on! you gotta try this, it’s great!” the memories of his only friend have become worn with constant reminiscing, his mind unsure as to what’s real and what he imagined to fill in the gaps left by age and new priorities.

maxwell had found a secluded section of the park down the street from the apartment you both lived in, one safe from the eyes of bullies and adults alike. his feet were bare as the day he was born while making leaps and bounds in the abundant mud puddles from yesterday’s rain. he did his best to not let what little joy he found be dwindled by circumstance — his shitty father and reticent mother and the lingering ghost of poverty — the way others lost theirs. max believed himself different than that and carried himself as such no matter what others said.

you were still on the sidewalk, watching your best friend with awe and curiosity. the idea of traipsing through mud barefooted was exhilarating, but you knew that if your clothes got dirty, your mother would hang you out to dry alongside the clothes you were wearing. how did it feel to have the mud between your toes, the rainwater soaking into your skin? you didn’t remember, but you would like to.

to be honest, maxwell didn’t expect you to join him. he didn’t think you would ever try to break out of the box of propriety your family shoved you in, not now or ever. but the next thing he knew, he heard another set of feet splashing around in the puddles he had just vacated, making a path to where he stood. a playful shriek he knew as yours rang through the air and he immediately turned to you, wanting to see your face as you enjoyed yourself for the first time in a long time. “maxwell, this is wonderful! why didn’t you get me to do this earlier?”

you never looked more beautiful to him than when the afternoon sun shone on you, your smile bright and laughter clear and joyous. you were free as lady liberty, splashing around like there wasn’t a single other thing you had to do. then you take his hand and max swears that he’s seeing stars. before you know it, you’re dancing in the mud to the song of the birds in the trees. is it just max’s imagination, or do you tell him you love him?

your lips are on his and it’s magic. his shirt is being gripped in tight fists and his hands are magnetized to your waist, holding each other tight enough to need a crowbar to separate you. there’s nowhere he would rather be than back there with you…

but it’s been far too many years since he’s seen or heard from you, there’s no telling if you’re even in the country still at this point. it took a long time for him to not dolefully gaze at every door you could walk through once he left for college, hoping to see that radiant smile and hear you say his name so reverently.

but these days, reverence is the last thing maxwell thinks he deserves, not after the dreamstone debacle. hell, he isn’t even completely convinced that he can adequately take care of alistair despite the low standards his father and his ex-wife have presented him with. despite these doubts (and the perplexing way that everyone acted as if he never almost took over the world), he was just given full custody of alistair when the school called cps on his ex-wife for neglect. it was a terrible way to get a second chance at doing right by his son, but it’s a second chance nonetheless.

after seeing sense and liquidating black gold while he still could get something to survive with, he and alistair found a two bedroom apartment in a nice part of town. it was miniscule compared to what he had but it was a sight more than what he could have ended up with. besides, max had no time to be frivolous when he had his son to protect.

back to the grindstone he went. he knew that people would recognize him if he kept his current appearance and name, so he retired the lord name and decided on another fresh start. he slowly adjusted to using lorenzano after so many years rejecting it, got the blond removed from his hair. he found a job in financial advisory, and ironically enough, he was damn good at it. he knows what he’s doing when it comes to money that isn’t his, who’d have thought?

he actually knew a couple people from work that he almost considered friends. honestly he wasn’t sure what that word meant anymore, didn’t remember the feelings that were supposed to be associated with having them. but it was enough, truly more than enough; because this progress meant that he was dragging himself out of the grave he dug, because he was taking care of his son first and foremost.

alistair was put into a new school; nothing fancy, just the nicer public school that was a pleasing midpoint between work and their apartment. the first day he attended, alistair came home with so many good stories about the friends he made and the games they played at recess. within a few months he had been contacted by his teacher who had nothing but praise for little alistair lorenzano. his little boy was excelling and max couldn’t have been more proud than he was during that phone call. seconds after he hung up, he found alistair in his bedroom and wrapped him in a massive hug, making sure to emphasize the fact that max was proud of his son.

and then there was his neighbor. they lived across the hall from him and max would only catch the tail end of their arrivals and departures to their apartment. he did think it was rather odd, their strangely adept ability at avoiding him. if he didn’t know any better he’d think it was on purpose.

it wasn't intentional — not quite.

you had been avoiding your neighbor, but it had nothing to do with the oil commercials or dreamstone debacle — your new neighbor made you sad. the feeling would hit every time you saw him. his mere presence dusted off long-worn and cherished memories of a time where the sun felt warmer on your skin, where smiles came easier than heartache.

it took a long while before you realized why: it was because this mystery man reminded you of a love long lost to the dagger of circumstance. something about his walk, or maybe his hands during the times you’d see him open his apartment door, reminded you of what an older maxwell lorenzano could have been. the section of your heart that housed your thoughts of maxwell had been wrapped in caution tape with every hazard sign known to man flashing around it for many years, not wanting to venture there for more than a few moments in fear of hurting yourself even more.

if only you realized it was really max that you were so adamantly avoiding.

three months went by of max wondering why he still has yet to meet his neighbor. not that it was imperative to his daily survival, but his curiosity was all but tearing him apart at the seams. he didn’t know what else to do; yes he wanted to know his neighbor, but how did he go about that when they never saw each other?

“just knock on their door, daddy. be their friend, like you tell me to do when i go to school.” the childlike innocence alistair speaks with betrays the actual feasibility of the idea. maxwell was overthinking everything! people talked to their neighbors all the time! this could just be a simple “hey are you doing okay?” and the chips would fall where they may.

maxwell ruffles his son’s hair affectionately, pulling him into a small hug. “you know what? that’s exactly what i’m gonna do. thanks buddy, i’ll be right back.” it’s only across the hall, max isn’t gonna be gone long.

it’s been years since he’s done anything this casually daring. everything he did for decades was all high risk yielding high reward. talking to his neighbor should seem simple in comparison — it presented no drastic consequence if it went belly up, he almost never saw his neighbor anyway. that wouldn’t change after he finally sated his curiosity, certainly not.

once alistair’s homework is finished and is entranced by the television, maxwell decides to head next door, being sure that the house keys are in his pocket before shutting the door. he probably should have thought it out more than he did — he had no idea about his neighbor’s work schedule or if they had kids or a spouse, if they were a serial killer or an introvert. or even worse, if they happened to be someone who remembers everything he’s done. that would be his luck, his first true attempt at making a friend being thwarted with the magnitude of his past sins.

he doesn’t hear his own front door open, alistair’s head poking out to watch his dad. “knock, daddy!” he whisper-shouts and nearly shakes maxwell out of his skin. the little boy laughs at his dad’s startled expression before nodding and shutting the door back.

max went to knock but realized with his knuckles only an inch from the wood that his hands were peculiarly slippery. when did maxwell’s hands get so clammy? there was nothing to be nervous about. he was just going to attempt to make a friend, like his son simplified.

but the thing is, maxwell knows that it’s been decades since he’s had a friend. the last time someone outside of his son was kind to him not for the zeroes he wrote in checkbooks was you, and sometimes he even doubted that you were real. there are hazy memories of him as a teen that splashed in mud puddles and kissed a being of pure sunshine with the innocence of youth. he hopes they’re real, for his sake and for the sunshine he romped around the park with. maybe memories of him are keeping you sane the way your memory did for him.

as his thoughts spiraled, maxwell lost his nerve. with a heaping dose of irrationality, he didn’t want to disappoint whoever was on the other side of the door. turns out, there was no one on the other side.

“excuse me, did you need something?”

your first instinct when seeing a man almost knocking on your apartment door, on a normal day, was not to be so polite. but you were having a strangely good day and there was no reason to bring down the positive energy with an abrasive attitude. plus, the man looked so conflicted. he seemed to need a friend.

“i, uh, live across the hall, have been for a few months and never got to meet you.” a small gesture to the side shifted your attention to the door across from yours — and the little boy who had the door cracked just enough to see the interaction between you and who you think must be his dad.

this man’s voice, something about it was familiar. he moved from in front of your door and extended his hand towards you in an effort for a decent introduction. “i’m maxwell lor-lorenzano.”

maxwell lorenzano. you never would have thought that out of all the people to have graced this apartment building, he would be one. his hands were still softly strong and shoulders still broad. his eyes were still the same striking shade of brown, but there was a lot more pain there, a lot of experience that was clearly pushing him down by his shoulders and into the depths of anguish. yet there he was, keeping his head above water and still being kind. this truly was your max.

you take his hand with a soft smile, squeezing it gently as you give your name. “it’s been a long time, max.”

max couldn’t believe it. after all these years, it was you.

you had moved in across the street from him in his early teenage years and had become acquainted when walking to school and home. the two of you trekked through high school together, ignoring the cruelty of classmates and focusing on getting to the future, to freedom. hope of being friends after high school was abundant in the beginning, but soon your paths sent you further and further away from each other and towards a future neither of you were sure you wanted without the other.

“it really has been a while. i- i uh,” he could barely string a sentence together anymore. his shock and joy of seeing you again had his brain melting into goo and his tongue an almost immovable weight. “i missed you.” the blood rushed to your face the way it always did when you were with max. even when stuttering over his words and a hand rubbing at the back of his neck, he was still charming.

max noticed your attire and the wet umbrella in hand and was immediately taken back to that day spent in the park after it rained, when he . the sunshine on his skin, your smile that never failed to take his breath away…

a soft smile was on max’s lips but his eyes were somewhere else. “max? is everything okay?”

“do you remember the day we went to the park, when we splashed in the puddles and-“

“and when i kissed you? i could never forget if i tried.”

you really did kiss him! it made him want to do it again, as many times as you would let him. but that brought one little stipulation with it: alistair.

what would you say when you found out he had a son?

before max’s thoughts could dampen your reunion, you continued, and with every word, you solidified your place in his heart. “maybe we could do that again some time, just like we used to. and you could bring your son too, if you’d like.” you were jumping out on a limb by assuming that the little boy was his son, but with the apparent protectiveness max displayed around him when you see them together, what else could he be?

“that sounds so fun! can we, dad?” alistair made his presence known by pummeling into max’s legs, nearly knocking him over with an excited hug. you grinned at the affection, watching max’s eyes fill with warmth as he gazed at his son. “i don’t see why not. just change into some play clothes and get your raincoat from the hall closet.”

alistair shoots with glee and is immediately running back to the apartment, excited to change clothes and play in the rain. you watch max’s eyes as they light up at alistair’s happiness, that flicker reminding of you of when you were younger and the world was kinder to you both.

here was your second chance with max, another opportunity to be with someone who never stopped loving you even as the seasons changed and the zeroes increased. “i’ll let you guys get changed, come knock when you’re ready to go.”

feeling an uptick in bravery, max placed a quick peck to your cheek before he turned toward his apartment. “will do, see you in a few.” the risk he took was well worth seeing you grow bashful at the affection, eyes flitting to your shoes before back at him, a soft smile across your lips. you watched him walk away before going back into your apartment, waiting for the rest of your life to begin at the rapping of knuckles on solid oak.

maxwell lord taglist & others: @phoenixhalliwell @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @obirain @themarcusmoreno @captainrexstan @battletales @stardustsunrisekisses @senator-nahberries @max--phillips @jedi-mando @veracruz-djarin @andysficrecs @purelypascal @whovianwar @iv7867 @kaermorons @princess76179 @pedropasscals

#maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord reader insert #maxwell lord imagines #emotional support capitalist #maxwell lord #pedro pascal #i’m soft #i’m not sure what this is but i hope y’all like it #ww84

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wallgirl · 3 years

Text

The Little Nereid Part One

3200 words, part one of a five part fanfiction

Poseidon x OC

Dynamene, youngest of the 50 Nereids, has lived most of her adolescence as a servant alongside her sisters at Poseidon’s palace. But with her coming-of-age birthday and other developments, what she initially thought was just admiration of her master blossoms into something stronger and more passionate... and painful.

Categories: Romance, angst, unrequited love, coming-of-age, earn-your-happy-ending; no NSFW content

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The incessant cry of seagulls encircling the rocky bluffs below finally woke her. She exhaled reluctantly, tugging the blanket closer to her chest. They were especially loud this morning; perhaps a school of fish had washed up on shore. She was surprised that she didn’t hear Thoe shouting at them in a vain attempt to get them to scatter. Thoe had always hated seagulls, and a millennium of living beside the ocean had done nothing to calm her ire. She rolled away from the bright light entering from the window and drowsily pondered how she would spend the day. If the weather held up, perhaps she would go for a run along the shoreline.

Then realization hit her, and she sat up, fully awake. Of course, she had plans for the day – it was her birthday!

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And not just any birthday, but her coming-of-age celebration. From today on, she would officially be a woman in the eyes of society; no longer a mere girl, despite her thin build and wide eyes.

She jumped out of bed and undid her rumpled chiton, tossing it haphazardly onto the marble floor as she ran to her dresser. She hurriedly sought through the drawer before pulling out one of her nicer peplos with gold embroidery, then turned to the next drawer in search of a clean chiton.

“Dynamene! Are you up?” A loud voice echoed from the other side of the bedroom door.

“Yes! Yes, I’m awake!” Dynamene called back, hastily slamming the drawers closed and turning to the full-length mirror across from her bed.

“May I come in?” Without waiting for a response, the door opened and a tall maiden with her auburn hair drawn into a long braid entered.

“Help me fasten my peplos, Actaea,” Dynamene muttered, tugging the fabric around her body.

“I suppose…” Actaea sighed dramatically. She stepped behind Dynamene and began to gather the cloth expertly. “You know, I’m glad I caught you while you were getting dressed. I have the perfect pins for you to use today.” With a smile, she produced two golden pins with mother-of-pearl heads.

Dynamene broke into a wide beam at the sight of her gifts, her freckled cheeks dimpling in delight. “Thank you, Actaea. They’re beautiful.”

“Aren’t they? I sent for them a few weeks ago. I know you’ve wanted pins with mother-of-pearl for a while.”

“I have, it’s my favorite.” Dynamene admired her reflection shamelessly as Actaea finished positioning the pins, now holding her chiton together at the shoulders.

“I know. What older sister would I be if I didn’t know your favorite stone?” Actaea teased her with a tug on her hair.

Dynamene swatted at her playfully. “Mother-of-pearl isn’t a stone, silly!”

Actaea laughed and took hold of her hand. “Come along, birthday girl. Our sisters have set up breakfast down at the beach.”

Dynamene laughed back with excitement and allowed her older sister to rush her along the pristine white halls of the palace. Exquisite white marble reflected the sunlight entering from the tall windows, making for a heavenly vision when combined with the sight of the ocean gently churning against the rocky bluffs and sandy beaches below. They burst out of the palace’s bottom story entrance onto a vast deck. Across, carved between the rock that crowded up along the bottom of the palace, was a large staircase leading down to the beach. Well, perhaps staircase was too generous; all 150 of the steps were weathered from years of use by the Nereids running back and forth from the palace to the ocean, and tender weeds had begun to billow gently along the cracks. But the Nereids – that is, Dynamene and her older sisters – preferred the well-loved look.

The master of the palace was guaranteed to have a different opinion, but as he never used the staircase, the point was moot.

The stairs ended in soft, peach-hued sands that gave way beneath the sisters’ feet. Further down, along a cluster of rocks that jutted out into the cerulean waters, two banquet tables had been set up. They were well-laden with fresh fruit, wine, honey cakes, and just-roasted fish.

“Dynamene!” The first of her sisters to spot her yelled out. “Happy birthday, Dynamene!” The rest of her sisters, all forty-nine of them, quickly gathered to greet her. A merry chorus of “Happy birthday!” rang out for a full minute before they led her to her place of honor at the head of one of the tables.

“Happy birthday, baby Dynamene,” the last of her sisters called from where she was perched on top of the boulder closest to the tables. Good-natured Eione, with her sunbaked red hair and perpetually sandy legs, rose her glass. “To you!”

“To baby Dynamene!” The rest of the sisters called back, raising their glasses in a toast.

Blushing from the attention, Dynamene rose her glass to toast them back before sipping at the wine. It was remarkably sweet; no doubt sourced from one of the finest casks in the palace.

“Ah, but it is a sad day, too,” Actaea sighed dramatically. “The youngest of us has finally come-of-age; and now we have nothing to look forward to but senility.”

“Get out,” scoffed Ianeira, the eldest of the fifty. She waved her hand as if to swat away Actaea’s words. “Nereids don’t worry about getting old. As the pure-blooded daughters of two water gods, the day we see a gray hair will never come.”

“Why aren’t we gods, anyways,” another sister grumbled.

“I am glad enough to be a sea nymph,” Eione called, stretching her arms. “We are still leagues above mortals, and we don’t have any pesky rules or civil struggles to worry about. Let the other gods have their fun.”

“I agree,” nodded Ianeira. “We’ve seen every sort of trouble that can come from being a god, just by living here.”

Dynamene started at the mention of their master. “Ah, yes… Lord Poseidon. He’s due to come home this afternoon, isn’t he?”

“Yes, so we must make sure our duties are finished before he arrives. But there will be plenty of time afterwards to continue to celebrate your special day,” Actaea leaned over to ruffle Dynamene’s hair.

Dynamene smiled. “Perhaps it’s uncouth to ask, but… I wonder if I can expect a gift from him?” she murmured back lowly.

“Of course you can!” Eione shouted back, and Dynamene gaped at her. Truly, nothing escaped her ears. “Whose birthday was it last? They got a gift. Master Poseidon always gives us something for our birthday; a token of his appreciation, right?”

“Are you hoping for anything in particular?” Actaea asked. “Perhaps a whole island to yourself? Half of the treasure room?”

“No!” Dynamene laughed, swatting her older sister on the arm. “I…” She paused. “I will be happy with anything Lord Poseidon chooses to bestow me with.”

“Ask him to bestow you a new hair comb, then,” a sister snided from behind her. With a careless touch, Thoe ran her hand along Dynamene’s dark hair. “We should be heading back to the palace soon. I’ll fix your hair for you, Dyna. My birthday gift will be one of hair oil and the removal of split-ends.”

And so, all too soon, breakfast was over, and the sisters began their ascent back to the palace to attend to their chores. Once Thoe had sculpted Dynamene’s hair into what she deemed a more acceptable state, the two joined their sisters in cleaning the palace’s vast floors. Half of the sisters made the journey back and forth from the palace to the beach, lugging water in mighty jugs to throw across the marble floors. The other sisters used their innate gifts as sea nymphs to manipulate the water back and forth across the floor’s surface in gentle waves, gathering up the dust and dirt and sending it flowing into grated vents along the bottom of the walls. A system of pipes beneath the palace carried the water back down to the ocean, in a convenient and simple cycle.

Once the floors had been cleaned, the sisters broke up further into singles and pairs, airing out linens and shaking out rugs in every furnished room. Dynamene remained with Thoe as they methodically went through each bedroom and made the beds. Today, Thoe’s abrasive nature did little to draw Dynamene out of her thoughts. She was lost in pondering what Poseidon might give her for her birthday. It was never anything grand, but that was hardly surprising; Poseidon was no sentimental man and being able to live and serve in his palace was gift enough to begin with. But for every Nereid’s birthday, he still remembered to give them something as a token of appreciation. A simple formality. And yet… Dynamene’s heartbeat quickened. She racked her memory; what had he gifted her her last birthday? It had been a while, truth be told. The Nereids only celebrated their birthdays every hundred years. There were so many of them, and they aged so slowly, that celebrating every year seemed like a burden; not to mention that several of them shared a birth month and day.

But now Dynamene’s day had arrived, and she was the last of her sisters to reach womanhood. It was her first official birthday since she had experienced menarche several decades ago. She was quite a bit taller, though still slender in body and round in her cheeks, then she was when she had arrived at Poseidon’s palace with her sisters. Had it really been a thousand years since then? She closed her eyes briefly, reliving the emotions she had felt as a young girl seeing the palace, and its master, for the first time.

Upon their arrival, every sister had greeted Poseidon formally, stating their name with a curtsy, oldest to youngest. Dynamene had never met Poseidon before that day and had no idea what to expect of the man that would become her master. When it was finally her turn, as the youngest of the sisters, to greet him, her heart had nearly stopped.

He had towered over her, a statuesque man measuring over six feet in height, with unfeeling blue eyes and an expression carved of stone. He struck an intimidating figure, even from where he sat upon his throne, and little Dynamene’s heart had jumped to her throat in fear.

But then he had shifted ever so slightly in his seat, just a simple tilt of his head and curl of his hand. The lock of hair that threatened to fall into his eyes caught the firelight just so, and his gray gaze rose to scrutinize her face. It was then that little Dynamene no longer saw a heartless stone statue, but a god; a magnificent, handsome man, with all the power of the oceans at his beck-and-call, who made every other lesser being tremble from his footsteps.

At that moment, she no longer feared him, even as a young girl before an unimaginably powerful stranger. No, not entirely.

She was in awe of him.

“Dynamene!” Thoe’s sharp call brought her back to her senses. “Ianeira is calling for you.”

“Ah, yes,” Dynamene quickly replied, her face flushing. “I’m going.”

Down the end of the hall, the eldest sister waited for her. “There you are. We’re almost done; all that’s left is the lighting of the fire in Lord Poseidon’s quarters. As it’s your special day, I thought you might like the honor.”

Dynamene’s mouth ran dry. “The honor?! But… it’s nothing I haven’t done before.”

“Well, perhaps, if you’re lucky, he’ll arrive as you’re taking care of it. Then he’ll be able to give you your birthday gift straight-away, yes?”

Dynamene nearly choked on her breath. “I… I don’t know if Lord Poseidon would even hand me it himself. He’s always had it brought to our room by the other servants, or the delivery person. I don’t think he would personally-”

“Enough excuses,” Ianeira shooed her. “Hurry, it’s nearly lunchtime.”

With no other choice, Dynamene began the ascent through the palace towards Poseidon’s quarters. Her steps were rather reluctant, and she twisted the fabric of her peplos incessantly. Even his rooms without him in it were intimidating, full of heavy energy without a single fabric fold out of place. Of course, they were so pristine because the Nereids cleaned and organized them with care, especially when Poseidon was away on business, but every surface was kept eternally spotless to the point that it felt almost oppressive.

All too soon, she had reached the top of the final staircase leading to his quarters. Pushing through the heavy, ornate mahogany doors that were twice her height, she silently entered the sitting room. Poseidon’s personal suite consisted of a sitting room, his bedroom, and his private bathroom. Perhaps it seemed sparse compared to the living quarters of other gods, but Poseidon hated frivolity. The simple rooms suited him well.

That was not to say that they weren’t furnished with the finest furniture and materials available. The great fireplace that loomed across from her had intricate reliefs carved into its marble, recreating important moments from the Greek pantheon’s history. Dynamene brushed her fingertips tenderly against an image of a young Poseidon, freshly freed alongside his siblings from the stomach of their father, Cronus. She marveled at the detail, almost too fine to clearly see with the naked eye. Hephaestus himself had carved the images as a house-warming gift to Poseidon, his skill evident as Dynamene stared in wonder at the stone Poseidon’s face. If she squinted, she could almost make out the individual lashes of his eyes.

Without warning, the mighty doors behind her swung open, and she spun around, back pressed against the wall.

A towering figure stepped inside, allowing the doors to creak shut behind him. The faint light that crept in from the windows in the adjoining rooms gently illuminated the man’s pale face and bare chest. He moved forward, steps slow and deliberate. The dim gray light pulled along the edges of his figure to reveal a solemn face and fair, windswept hair.

“Lord Poseidon,” Dynamene breathed, immediately dropping into a curtsy. She stared at the floor, listening to her own heartbeat become a rapid pounding in her ears. She had been caught dallying in his quarters, and she hadn’t even lit the fire yet.

But his expression changed naught as he took in the sight of the dark fireplace. His eyes slewed left towards it, then back near Dynamene. “You have yet to light the fire.”

Dynamene could barely make out her own voice over the roar of blood in her ears. “Yes, my lord. Please accept my deepest apologies; I have no excuse for shirking my duties.”

He said nothing in reply, but crossed the room to drop a scroll atop his bedside table. Her face burning, Dynamene spun back towards the fireplace and dropped to her knees, quickly attending to the hearth. As the flames began to roar to life, she heard his calm voice once more.

“Come here,” he said. Her hands began to shake, and she slowly righted herself before crossing the room to stand before him on lead-filled legs.

He stared down at her. No, not at her, but somewhere near her. He never looked anyone in the eyes, and Dynamene certainly didn’t expect him to start now. It would be a wasted effort anyhow; Dynamene couldn’t even bring herself to look at his face, instead staring rigidly at his toned shoulders. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her; she knew he wouldn’t yell at her; so why, oh why was she so shaken just standing before him? Why did her entire body feel as if it would break down into jelly at the slightest movement?

He rose one hand, and Dynamene forced herself to look. Laying atop his palm was a simple box, covered in blue satin. She immediately understood, and a different sort of heat filled her veins. He again waited in silence. She knew he meant for her to take it, and she lifted her own hands hesitantly to reach for it. Every movement, every motion was a vast effort, and she found herself begging her body not to flinch, not to mess this up.

As her fingers met the box, she accidentally brushed one fingertip against his palm, and she quickly pulled the hand back, as if afraid she’d be burned. But the other hand had successfully taken ahold of the box, and she drew it back to her chest. “Th… Thank you, Lord Poseidon,” she whispered, her voice breathless and her mouth dry as cotton.

He said nothing in reply, lingering for a moment. She chanced a glance up at his face, seizing the opportunity to once again memorize every feature of his face. A straight nose with the slightest upwards tilt. Those generous black eyelashes that flared out like the wings of a raven. His slight lips that, no matter the expression their owner held, always looked soft. And that curl of hair that always rested alongside his temple, threatening to dip into his eyes – how she longed to reach forward and brush it back for him.

How she longed to reach up and caress his cheek.

It was then that Dynamene realized that he was, indeed, gazing back at her, for perhaps the first time in her life. But perhaps she had just imagined it because, in the next moment, he was already turning away from her, striding away towards the bath. She stared at his strong back and the shifting of his shoulder blades, and her hands tightened around the box.

Without another word, she slipped from his quarters and fled down the stairs.

“Dynamene? Is everything alright?” Ianeira called after her, voice filled with concern.

“Yes!” Dynamene found the energy to shout back, even as she continued to sprint. “I’m just in a hurry to see my gift!”

Breathless, she shouldered open the door to her room and closed it with the other before sitting atop her bed. She could once again barely command her trembling fingers to separate the lid from the rest of the box before gently lifting a layer of protective cotton that shielded the rest of the contents.

Nestled inside, a single mother-of-pearl bracelet gleamed up at her in the sunlight.

Her breath caught in her chest. She didn’t dare touch with her clumsy hands for the moment, instead lifting the box up so she could better examine it in the light. It was flawless and sized perfectly for her slender wrist. Setting the box back on her lap, she tenderly slid the bracelet over her hand. She held it with a feather-light touch, not wanting to leave a smudge on any pearl’s surface. It fit as if it was always meant to be there.

She lifted her hand to the window, admiring in awe the way the iridescent beads caught the light. “Beautiful,” she sighed. For reasons unclear, the memory of her fingers brushing his hand arose, and she pursed her lips before cradling her bracelet-clad wrist against her chest. “Thank you,” she whispered. The heat in her face, and the electricity coiled in her veins, remained.

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Author’s notes:

I really wanted to explore the feelings and pain of first love in this fanfiction; you know, that teenage feeling of desperately wanting someone unattainable. It really brought back some of my own memories while writing this lol. I also want to explore the gray shades of loving someone like Poseidon, in as canon a view as possible. Of course, there area a lot of empty spaces in Poseidon’s canon characterization for me to fill in, but I’ll try to do so while heavily considering his canon depiction.

There’s no way I can write for 49 different side character Nereids, so there will only be six or seven at most that are part of the cast. If it’s hard keeping them straight, have this little guide I made for myself while writing:

Actaea – caring sister

Eione – tomboy sister

Thoe – rude sister

Ianeira – oldest sister

#record of ragnarok #poseidon #record of ragnarok poseidon #fanfiction #poseidon x oc

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nagitoandkokichioneshots · 3 years

Text

Wedding Night

The date was August 21st. The time was around 7:30 pm. The sunset was slowing peaking out from the mountains that surrounded the banquet hall me and my loved ones were currently in. And my dress was....

Well, my dress was currently being zipped up by my maid of honor

Tonight was my wedding night with the love of my life, Nagito Komaeda. We've been together for about six years and engaged for a near two years. We've graduated college just earlier in the spring and the two of us will finally be joining in holy matrimony at the aisle. I felt the zipper being tugged all the way to my shoulder blades by my maid of honor and best friend, Sonia Nevermind. I turned back, smiling at the soft fabric hugging my skin

"You think he'll like it, Sonia?" I asked the blond, my nervous interior breaking out on my face. She gave me a reassuring smile, nodding

"Don't worry, (Y/N). Believe me when I tell you Nagito is still head over heels in love with you, even after all this time. It's been six years and he can still go on about you for ages," She let out a small chuckle, making me feel a lot more at ease. Normal couples usually move on from the 'honeymoon phase' after the first few weeks of dating, but me and Nagito were not a 'normal' couple. We were stuck in a never-ending honeymoon cycle to put it more precisely. But we would never change our lovey-dovey, sappy ways for anyone

As Sonia clipped my veil under my tiara, I heard the door click, revealing Mikan wearing a (F/C) bridesmaid dress, identical to Sonia's. Her dark purple hair was in a high ponytail. I was surprised how she got her hair to look natural in an updo, despite some strands being different lengths

"Umm....(Y/N)? It's time," She flashed her usual meek smile at me, making my cheeks blush. I turned to Sonia, who gave the same smile she showed my earlier. She linked my elbow with hers, taking me out of the dressing room, to the main hall

**********************************************************************************************

As I linked elbows with Hajime, he walked me to the golden colored banquet hall, leading me down the white carpet with red rose petals scattered all over it. My smile never left my face as we walked down the aisle together, every step leading me closer to Nagito. He wore a white tuxedo with a gold tie and red rose pinned to his right breast pocket. I have no idea how Hajime and Kazuichi managed to tame his marshmallow locks back in a neat low bun, but it was working for him

"Thank you for walking me down the aisle, Hajime. It means a lot since my father couldn't be here," I sighed, whispering a thanks to my closest guy friend. Hajime gave me a sad smile, knowing that my father was on active duty overseas, but also knew that if he could, he would definitely be here with me

"It's no problem at all, (Y/N). You look stunning. Take good care of this one," He nodded his head lightly towards Nagito before giving me a quick kiss on the cheek, taking his place with the other groomsmen near Nagito. I took a few steps up the stage so I was directly under the silver arch that shined an elegant lighting over me and my future husband. Nagito's facial expression was enough to tell me what he was thinking

Just like that adorably loner back in high school.....he was in love

"You look like the angel of hope...." He muttered under his breath, taking in every single inch of my body adorned in white fabric, diamonds, and silver jewels. I blushed, looking down, only to feel his fingers lift my chin up, making my (E/C) orbs met his green ones

"Don't you look down, (Y/N). Otherwise, how am I going to kiss my angel?" He chuckled lightly, making me blush an even deeper red. We stared into each others' eyes a bit longer, time standing still, as if we were the only two people in the world. It was perfect

Until.....

"HEY! ARE YOU FREAKS GONNA GET THIS WEDDING STARTED OR WHAT?!"

Hiyoko shouted at us from the middle row of the left side. Mahiru shushed her, giving us an apologetic smile, making sure that the short blond didn't act out of line on our special night

"Remind me why we invited Hiyoko again?" Nagito asked me softly, making me flash him an apologetic smile of my own

"She's....sorta, kinda apart of my friend group....I guess. Hey, she hangs with Ibuki, Mahiru, and sometimes Mikan, that has to count for something" I shrugged, making him shake his head, but let out one last soft giggle before the priest cleared his voice, opening his bible between us

"Dear beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony......"

*Twenty minutes later*

"Nagito Komaeda. Do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in holy matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

Nagito didn't hesitate for a millisecond as he nodded, keeping his signature calm smile on his pale face

"I do,"

"(Y/N) (L/N). Do you this man to be your husband, to live together in holy matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do,"

"We will now begin the exchange of the rings. First, the man will place the ring on the woman's finger and repeat after me," He nodded towards Nagito as he pulled out a white gold halo ring with a princess cut diamond. He gently took my hand, slipping it on, hearing what the priest was saying to him. He didn't let go of my left hand as he put the ring on, but rather, took my right one too, squeezing them softly

"I give you this ring as a token and pledge of our constant faith and abiding love. I, Nagito Komaeda, take you, (Y/N) (L/N), to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part," He vowed. After Nagito was done, I did the same, slipping on a white gold wedding band on his left finger, hearing the priest repeat the same dialogue to me, only switch the place of mine and Nagito's names

"I give you this ring as a token and pledge of our constant faith and abiding love. I, (Y/N) (L/N), take you, Nagito Komaeda, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part," I told him with every ounce of my heart, earning a few awes from the crowd

"By virtue of the authority vested in me under the laws of Tokyo, Japan, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride," The priest closed his book, taking a step back allowing Nagito to pull me close to smash his lips onto mine. Which is exactly what happened before I could even process the whole thought in my head. Before I knew it, I felt a pair of soft lips meet me glossy red ones

It was absolutely romantic and perfect. Nagito usually loves to take his time with our kisses, only giving me the best and heartfelt experience that he claims I deserve. Yet this one was different--we were married now. This kiss sealed the next chapter of our lives. And from the immense amount of passion he put in...I can see a hopeful future for us

Nagito pulled away, a bit of cheekiness in his usual smile. "I put on the chapstick like you wanted," He chuckled, making me smirk

"I thought there was something different," I mischievously teased him, but it was cut short by a cheerful voice in front of us

"Hey! Hey! You guys stand still, so I can take some pictures!" Mahiru smiled, kneeling down to get the best angle. "Come on, the happy couple, show me those smiles!" She encouraged, focusing her camera. Me and Nagito both blushed, as we posed with each other, allowing the Ultimate photographer take our wedding pictures

**********************************************************************************************

After we took our wedding pics, Nagito carried me to the dining hall where we had our dinner. We were greeted by many congratulations and applauses as our loved ones cheered for us, allowing us some room, as we were the guests of honor. After dinner was over, Sonia popped some champagne, pouring herself, us, and Hajime a glass. After a long sip from her glass, she took a microphone, turning it on

"Good evening everyone! Thank you all for coming to the wedding of Nagito and (Y/N) Komaeda," She cheered, making everyone clap. My blond best friend turned to me, flashing me a smirk, knowing the words "(Y/N) Komaeda" would make my heart beat out of the control for the first few weeks of my new name. It was hard to believe Sonia was so naive and didn't fully understand foreign idioms and teasing. Well, it has been almost a decade since she settled down in Japan

"Now, it is honor the maid of honor and best man share speeches about the bride and groom. Please, if you allow me, I have a few words I would love to say about (Y/N)," She calmly stated in the microphone. She cleared her voice before she started her speech, everyone word clear and making my blush deepen into a dark red

"(Y/N) was the first friend I've made here when I moved to Japan. I honestly had no idea what was going to happen when I first attended Hope Peak's academy. I'm not denying that I've had great friends that stuck by my side and treated me well. They didn't see me as Princess Sonia Nevermind, but as Sonia Nevermind, the seventeen year old high school girl. I was so afraid to come out of my shell fully, despite everyone welcoming me with open arms. However, (Y/N) was the one to inspire me to be myself. She was the one who showed me not to be embarrassed about my origins or weird ways of thinking. I've confided in her more than anyone. She was my shoulder to lean on, my problems became hers, and her advice is what shaped me to be who I am today. In fact, without her, I probably wouldn't even be here in Japan still. It's all thanks to her that I can confidently call myself a bright young woman who got to where she is now not because of my status, but because of my hard work and determination. Two things I wouldn't have without this beautiful, intelligent, sweet lady that I had the honor to call my best friend," She moved aside, showing me to the party guests. Everyone cheered as Sonia finished her speech, only to fluster my even more, hugging Nagito closer so I could hide in his chest. I heard his laid back laugh, as he stroked my hair softly, whispering in my ear

"Don't be embarrassed, (Y/N). Every word Sonia says is true. You're truly the embodiment of hope for everyone. Especially for me," He assure me, making me pull my face from his chest, but still staying close to him. Mostly because his arm was on my waist and, from his grip, it seemed like he had no intention of letting me go

"And now, we will hear from the best man, Hajime Hinata," Sonia introduced the brunette man to the audience, as she handed him the mic. Hajime was greeted with applause as he tapped the microphone before sharing his speech

"Thank you, Sonia. Now, I would like start to by saying that being Nagito's best man is such an honor. He....we've may have not been the most popular people in school, but I can say with absolute certainty that it was an honor to be his best friend. Nagito was the first person to show me around and introduce me to everyone that I came to know as my classmate during our time in Hope Peaks academy. I can also say that it was during our time in high school that we've grown closer to each other and I've learned that Nagito wasn't that 'lonely weirdo' that everyone thought he was. He was just someone that wanted to be loved. And I trust that (Y/N) was able to give that to him. It was an honor to see my close friend grow as a better person with the love of his life by his side. We've supported each other and came to each other when we needed it the most. And as time went on, I've saw a shimmer of happiness bloom inside Nagito, his hope opening up inside of him. And I would like to believe it is because (Y/N) showed him what it's liked to be loved...along with much more. Thank you everyone...and thank you (Y/N)," Hajime turned to me, a smile plastered on his face "Please keep giving him hope" He nodded, turning off the mic. The crowd erupted in applause again, as the four of us drained our champagne glasses, finishing up our dinner

**********************************************************************************************

(Third person POV)

"I'm so happy for you, Nagito!" Hajime exclaimed to his best friend, clinking his wine glass with Nagito's. The white haired boy smiled, a faint pink blush being painted on his cheeks

"Thank you, Hajime. I just can't believe it. I married the literal angel of hope....I feel like I can do anything with her by my side..." He sighed happily, taking a sip of his red wine

"Do you think you can get Miss. Sonia to marry me, Nagito?" Kazuichi asked him, pointing to her talking to me. Sonia must've heard their conversation as the blond princess winced at his words, moving closer to the bride. Nagito just chuckled, putting his glass down

"I think it really depends if she wants to, Kazuichi," He gently broke his spirit, as the pink haired man just grunted, crossing his arms. Gundham gave him a death glare, as Fuyuhiko tried to ease the tension between them by starting a new conversation

"I still can't believe Nagito out of all of us got married first. Well, I guess if this crazy bastard can get married, there's hope for our asses after all," He smiled lightly, shoving his hands in his pockets. Nagito's eyes light up, but this time, a mix of hope and despair twisted in them

"Did you say....hope?" He grinned, making all the guys roll their eyes, grimacing

"Seriously--Really?!" They all scolded-asked him, making the white haired man chuckle

"Sorry, sorry. I just....can't believe trash like me got married to a literal angel. She's the ray of hope I needed in my life...my savior...my everything. I love her so much. How can someone as gorgeous, smart, and hopeful as her love someone as worthless as me?" He questioned, his pink blush turning red as he watched the (H/C) haired girl clink her red wine with a group of her closest friends. Nagito was literally snapped out of his gaze, as his best friend snapped his fingers in front his face

"Hey, (Y/N) wouldn't like you talking about yourself like that. But I think now is the best time to stop gushing about her to us and go get your...hope," He gave Nagito a smile, nodding towards (Y/N)

"Ah, you're right, Hajime. I'll see you guys later," He excused himself from the groomsmen, going over to the group of girls. He saw his new wife talking to Peko, and waved in her direction

"(Y/N)!" He hollered, making his way towards her. The ultimate swords-woman put her glass down, not wanting to get in the way of the newly wedded couple

"I think I'll go and find young master. Congratulations again, (Y/N)," She told the bride one last time before going off in the opposite direction. Nagito took both hands of his angel, pulling her close to him

"I think it's time we have that first dance, don't you think so, my stunning hope?" He asked, making her nod

"I think you're right, marshmallow. Come," She gestured for him to follow her, as the made their way to the dance floor. Classical music filled the room, as the bride wrapped her arms around her husband's neck, his hands making his way towards her waist. They held each other close as they started to slow dance, gazing into each other's eyes

"I'm so glad you didn't let Ibuki play for our wedding and just hired a DJ. She can get a bit...eccentric with her music," He chuckled softly, making (Y/N) let out one of her own

"Yeah, we wouldn't want a repeat of my 19th birthday," The happy couple both slightly shuddered at the temporary loss of hearing all their friends and them included had when the ultimate musician played for (Y/N) during one of my birthday parties. Nagito nuzzled his nose with hers, before kissing her once again, whispering one more thing that made her blush

"This is hope, huh? Geez, how did I get so lucky?" He asked himself softly, dancing the night away with his ray of hope, looking forward to a hope filled future with his angel

(Bonus/Epilogue)

"Time for the bouquet toss!" (Y/N) cheered, brandishing her bouquet of red and white roses in her hand. All the females crowded behind her, already ready to brawl over the bundle of flowers. The (H/C) turned away, closing her eyes before throwing the flowers behind her. All of a sudden, the group of girls fought like wild animals, kicking and pulling each other's hair for the bouquet

"...........Maybe we shouldn't have included that, angel. I heard it was a bit played out too," Nagito winced, seeing Hiyoko kick Mikan in her crotch area

"I thought my bear crashed the wedding, but this.....how low can these mortals go for a small collection of earth floral? It's not like it's the lost jewel of the underworld," Gundham stated, watching the fight unfold with his arms crossed

"Wow! Who knew Miss Sonia could double leg takedown someone so hard?!" Kazuichi flashed a lovestruck smile, as Sonia smashed Mahiru to the floor by both her legs

"Peko! Go for the stomach! No, lower! Dammit!" Fuyuhiko yelled at the woman who was like an older sister to him, watching her use her bamboo sword on Akane

"AKANE! YOU GOT THIS! YOU MAY NOT HAVE A SWORD, BUT YOU HAVE DETERMINATION AND STRONG WILLPOWER! SHOW SOME SPIRIT!!!!!!" Nekomaru screamed, rooting for Akane during the fight between her and Peko

Hajime was the only man that remained silent as he was drinking the last of the orange juice at his table, trying to focus on reading a book on his phone. The fight went on for what seemed like a century only to end in....

"H-Huh?!"

Chiaki, who was fast asleep at her table and the only one not fighting over the bouquet, felt the flowers land on her lap. She rubbed her eyes, and picked up the bouquet in her hands. Smiling softly, she got up and walked over to Hajime

"Hajime. Look what I got," She showed him the flowers, making her boyfriend gasp, looking up from his phone

"Chiaki, I...." He grinned, taking it. "T-Thank you. I promise....maybe one day in the near future..." He turned to Nagito and (Y/N) "Don't take off those wedding decorations yet. We may have another couple using this place soon," He chuckled, making everyone (except Sonia, Mikan, and Hiyoko who were crying over losing the bouquet) cheer

Yep, this was definitely a night to remember

#nagito x reader #nagito komaeda #nagito komeada kin #nagito headcanons #nagito oneshots #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa x y/n #danganronpa #danganronpa goodbye despair #goodbye despair

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