#'just make content yourself' I AM ONLY ONE PERSON I ONLY HAVE SO MUCH TIME
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[ID: a tweet edited to read:
tumblr the only place where well articulated sentences still get misinterpreted.
You can say "we should appreciate the female characters that already exist in canon" and somebody will say "oh so you’re saying I can’t like male characters that my neurodivergency has made me latch onto?"
No bitch. Dats a whole new sentence. Wtf is you talkin about.
/end ID]
piss on the poor website.
#it is a WIDESPREAD phenomenon in fandom that people will write 15k word theses on male characters who show up once but not even#spare a glance at a main female character#and someone saying 'female characters deserve more love and appreciation' is not a direct attack on your hyperfixation special blorbos.#stop pretending it is.#hello grace here#'just make content yourself' I AM ONLY ONE PERSON I ONLY HAVE SO MUCH TIME#IS IT A CRIME TO WANT TO READ FICS AND SEE ART OF MY FAVES BY OTHER PEOPLE??
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> posts a fic i'm proud of about dark subject matter to do with five and his abuse, which came from a very personal place, on AO3
> gets a comment
> it is, Course, a hate comment from an anti, demanding on anon to know why i would 'spend my value as a writer who's read Legacies' to write it
> roasts their ass like a thanksgiving turkey and immediately goes to write more of the thing
#LL tag#antis cw#the entitlement is unreal and it Will get you made fun of sorry#like for one thing first and foremost my art is for me; unless i am specifically writing something as a gift for someone else#which i do when i do it because it brings me joy#but also i do find happiness; joy; and fulfillment in posting art that i made for myself; and it being meaningful to other people#i've got LL fics that are ten years old that people still mention having loved now and then; and that i still get kudos on#and it is so humbling in the best way; i cannot express how much my opinion on it is not 'lol go fuck yourselves i don't care'#.......BUT. your 'value' as a writer/artist/etc in fandom is not something you '''spend'''#you are a *person* who shared your time and effort and a little part of your soul#that nourishes people it resonates with; until they have enough left over to maybe share some of theirs right back#a fandom that is good for you and treating you decently will leave you with more of yourself to share; not less#the value you are bringing to a fandom is *you*#what your value to the fandom is *not* is#'someone who's read the thing i like; puts words on paper; and is therefore categorically capable of making content for me to consume'#'and ONLY content for ME to consume'#'if you write anything i don't want to read you are personally taking food out of the mouths of me and my starving children'#writers and artists in fandom are not ATMs for the fandom to leave empty#and if anyone tries to treat you like one they're an entitled weirdo who's actively dehumanizing you & i advise you to drop their ass & run#anyway i just have a lot of thoughts about the subject and i am grateful to people in fandom who aren't Like This#whereas anon can use the block button or cry themself to sleep at night every time i post another fic about five being an abuse survivor#the salt files#abuse mention cw#grooming mention cw
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i'll make it fit - rafe cameron
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pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader
warnings: sexual overtones, established relationship, fingering, teasing, unprotected sex (PROTECTED YOURSELF), this damn tiny polo!!, English is my second language!, NO SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4
belonging: NO NUT NOVEMBER!
type: totally smut (this is the first time i've written something like this, which has practically no plot at all, just sex itself. keep my fingers crossed that it didn't turn out badly!!!), small plot but really small
word count: 1,8k
summary: rafe cameron likes things too small for him.
more content: obx masterlist, rafe cameron masterlist
Mornings in Tannyhill were mostly quiet. Since Ward Cameron was dead and his entire family had moved to a house in the Bahamas, it was quiet there. Hearing of Sarah had disappeared - she was probably somewhere with her friends, again putting her life at risk, nothing new. And the only one who lived there was Rafe, who had taken over the company from his father and decided to return to the “old garbage.” Well, and you lived there too, by the side of your beloved. You couldn't have dreamed of a better life.
You were awakened by the bright rays of the sun, which rudely crept through the slightly parted curtains into your shared bedroom. You dragged yourself lightly and glanced at the clock, which was on the bedside table and, as usual, was making that unbearable sound.
After muttered under your breath, you slipped out from under the warm quilt, which, to say the least, wasn't all that necessary - after all, it was summer. But by the fact that you were in just a lace petticoat, it definitely enveloped you with a warmth that was missing.
You didn't know what time it was, but by the fact that Rafe wasn't next to you, you knew it was probably after nine o'clock. You didn't have to look for him for long, because as soon as you stepped out into the hallway from your bedroom, you heard his voice. You looked out the balcony door, which was gently open, and smiled at the sight. Rafe, in a freshly stitched buzzcut, was sitting on the couch talking on the phone. In front of him on the coffee table he had papers spread out and a laptop in which he was busily tapping something. As soon as he noticed you he sent you a slight smile, but he was so engaged in the conversation that he did nothing more. And you couldn't be passive, after all, he was wearing a beautiful blue and damn tight polo that exposed his perfectly shaped biceps. You laughed quietly, seeing him nervously tweak them as they rolled up higher and higher each time, not covering as much of his arm as they should.
Despite his serious tone on the call, his eyes would flicker toward you every few moments, his smile softening just enough to let you know he was glad you were there.
Not one to resist temptation, you decided to have a little fun. You strolled over to him, moving slowly, letting your fingers trail along the back of the couch as you circled around to where he was sitting. Rafe’s eyes darted up, narrowing slightly in a silent warning.
You didn’t make it easy for him. With a mischievous smile, you leaned over and whispered into his ear, "That polo looks a little tight, don’t you think? You might need help taking it off later."
“Uh, yeah… sure,” he said to the person on the other end of the call, clearing his throat as if to regain his composure. “Send it to the office, they'll take care of it,” he muttered, hanging up.
You moved your hands over his shoulders, gently massaging them. Rafe put the phone down on the table, closed the laptop and leaned his head against the back of the couch, looking at you.
“You know what you're doing, huh?” he parroted under his breath.
“Maybe I do,” you whispered, letting your breath tickle his skin. “Just trying to make sure my man relaxes after handling all that business.”
“And what am I supposed to do with you?” he muttered, covering yours with his hands. “Whatever you want,” you muttered, going down with your palms on his chest. “Oh, but this polo is really too small for you.” Rafe laughed under his breath and gracefully helped you past the couch so that you were now standing in front of him, between his legs. You were in just a white lace slip that didn't cover much underneath, so Rafe could immediately see your hardening nipples.
You let out a soft laugh as Rafe’s strong hands gripped your thighs, pulling you effortlessly onto his lap. You straddled him, your knees sinking into the plush cushions of the couch on either side of his hips. The way he looked up at you—like you were the only thing in the world that could hold his attention—sent a warm rush through your veins.
"So needy" He muttered, stroking your hair and putting it behind your ears. “Who would have thought that you would beg for my attentions so much?”
“I'm not begging,” you muttered, swallowing your saliva loudly.
You could have sworn that in that moment Rafe heard your loud heartbeat. And even though you had been together for more than a year, he continued to trigger the same feelings in you. “No?” he asked ironically, his hand touching your pussy, which was covered only by a thong. “I would say something else.”
“Rafe,” you muttered, gently pushing your hips out to meet him as his nimble fingers pressed your clit harder. “So wet,” he mumbled, moving your panties aside and nimbly sliding his ring and middle finger into you.
You brought your face closer to his and grabbed his jaw, bringing your lips together in a sweet kiss. It was still quiet around you, the only things you could hear were the birds and your moans, drowned out by your boyfriend's mouth.
His thumb moved to your clit, the touch was light, teasing, his fingers tracing slow circles that sent tingles up your spine. And his fingers didn't stop moving up and down, each time hitting the exact same spot. Rafe knew what the fuck he was doing, he always knew how to make you in heaven in a moment by his precise movements. He knew your body like no one else, just like you knew his.
“Cum for me, baby,” he said, moving his lips to your naked neck. You felt you were close - Rafe did the same, following the feeling as you pulsed on his fingers. You didn't have to wait long until your body shook with pleasant and familiar reflexes, and you came on his fingers, burying your head in his neck.
Rafe took his fingers out of you and put them in his mouth, sucking on them. Oh this sight and Rafe in his damn tight blue polo, was something too strong for you to go through. You moved against his lap, letting him know that this was not what you wanted. “Still eager, huh?” he laughed throatily, but you didn't have to wait long. Rafe always knew what you needed and you got it right away. "You taste so good, baby"
“Rafe please,” you muttered, clasping your small hand over his large cock, which was getting harder and harder under you. “Anything for you,” he muttered, quickly getting rid of his pants.
Without much warning, he entered you. Slowly at first, because you knew very well that he was big. And even after so many times together, you continued to feel a slight discomfort at first. But Rafe always made it fit. He couldn't resist your tight pussy, which was even screaming for his attention. “Fuck, tight as ever,” he whispered, correcting himself on the couch so that you were more comfortable. “But don't worry, I'll make it fit.”
And as he said, so he did. With agility, he began to move inside you, making both of you nothing but moaning messes.
“Wait, I want,” you said, putting your hand on his chest. On that damn sexy polo. “Oh, a princess wants to take control?” he laughed under his breath, catching you under the thighs, but as if on cue he stopped moving inside you, making you feel again how big he was inside you. You groaned involuntarily, but didn't give in. You moved nimbly on top of him, practically taking him out of your pussy every now and then, and then lowering yourself all the way down again.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” Rafe groaned, his head falling back against the couch, exposing the strong line of his throat. His eyes were hooded, his lips parted as he watched you, completely entranced by the way you were moving, the way you were making him feel.
You could tell he was trying to hold back, trying to let you set the pace, but the way his fingers flexed against your skin told you just how badly he wanted to take control.
“Not yet, Rafey,” you muttered, moving even closer to him. “You deserve the best. Especially, when you're in that slutty polo"
You increased your pace, but Rafe couldn't stand it anymore either, and came against you, entering your pussy from below. At that moment your bodies were merging at the perfect moments and places, so you were already not far from orgasm. And with that, he captured your lips again, his kiss rougher this time, more urgent. There was no more teasing now-just the raw, unfiltered need that always simmered between you both, threatening to spill over the edges.
“I'm so close,” you whispered into his mouth, clamping your pussy against him every so often. “I know, baby, I can feel it,” he muttered into your mouth, gently biting your lip to reach inside again. "Mmm, so good for me"
Rafe grabbed your buttocks and with even more force began to pound his cock into you. Your tongues fought for dominance, and your hands couldn't find room on his body, clamping down on the collars of his shirt.
"Shit" he murmured into your lips, feeling as his cum shot into your pussy, making quite a mess.
Not much later you too reach climax, clenching around his dick. Exhausted, you leaned on his shoulder kissing his neck. Rafe stroked your back, still calming down after the orgasm that hit you surprisingly hard this time. You felt him smiling over your shoulder, so you shared his happiness, smiling too. You moved your head off his shoulder, looking him straight in the eyes now. He was still inside you, so every movement, made quiet sighs come out of your throats.
“What's so funny?” you asked, stroking his jaw and kissing the corner of his mouth gently.
“Maybe I should wear that tight polo more often, just to find yourself in your tight cunt again?” he laughed lightly, returning your kiss.
“Oh shut up, asshole,” you muttered, lowering yourself on top of him once more until he groaned and settled his head on the back of the couch, pulling you against him.
A/N: I know there's a lot of Rafe or Drew here lately, but I swear, when I see this man, I feel so ungodly that oh jesus, i hope you enjoyed this
please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)
#obx imagine#obx season 4#obx#rafe obx#obx cast#obx4#outer banks#outer banks season 4#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks smut#obx 4#rafe x you#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron headcanons#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron#outerbanks rafe#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction#obx smut#obx x reader
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HEY! Just because I am now 20 I think having something to kind of re establish boundaries would be good! Considering the ones I put all those times ago have changed :D GENERAL RULES! Do not be racist, sexist, homophobic, antisemitic, ableist, or discriminatory against anyone for any reason. Please if someone is calling you out for things you have done or said, please self-reflect and take the proper steps to change or remove yourself from the community. If you see something you do not like, and it IS MADE WORSE BY BRINGING ATTENTION TO IT, THEN IGNORE IT! Bringing attention to problems that just arent really problems with either the community or me in general are not worth it! Please use common sense when thinking about what/what not to engage with! I personally wish that people in the community do NOT engage with people who just obviously do not like me! Chances are they want a reaction from it so it is MUCH better to just not argue with someone whos mind you will not change! ALLOW CRITICISM OF ME AND MY CONTENT! IF YOU DONT AGREE OR DONT LIKE THEN DO NOT ARGUE ABOUT IT!!!! ALL IT WILL DO IS CAUSE UNESSICARY DRAMA!!! DO NOT make ANY comments or content about me that is explicitly sexual. I completely understand that lately there have been bits due to the changes in how I’ve been presenting myself and how I’ve been presenting more femininely, but that does not allow anyone to use that as an excuse to sexualize any features and such that are more feminine or masculine. Remember that femininity is not sexual and should not be seen or created as such just because its there! (for example, the Vtuber costume and chat being overly weird over the added boobs where there was no need for it). DO NOT draw me in ways that are sexual either, such as highlighting any aspects in a sexual way, or making the content something sexual. I am completely okay with being drawn as any body type, masculine presenting or feminine presenting, as long as you stick to this! PLEASE DO NOT SPECULATE ABOUT MY PERSONAL LIFE!!! Making jokes about certain topics CAN be fine, but a line is crossed when it becomes a legitimate speculation or if a joke is said when I have expressed my discomfort! RESPECT MY FRIENDS!!! All of my friends are their own, incredible people. And they do not deserve to be lumped in or referred to as JUST "my friend". Be respectful in their chats even when im not there, and be respectful to all of them everywhere else! IF SOMEONE IS TRYING TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU MAY BE DOING SOMETHING WRONG PLEASE LISTEN!!! There has been a lot of times in which I have seen people be unwilling to change in the face of a genuine discussion, and that is not something I want in the community! I should NOT have to police every single thing because it should NOT take me saying something in order to change your mind! As my words are not worth more or less when it comes to a lot of subjects! And lastly, do good. Whenever you have the ability to. BE POSITIVE!!! The hater mindset is very draining and can be very toxic to both you and the people around you, so highlight the good instead of the bad if you have the ability to! I am so incredibly proud of how far this community has come, and I cannot wait for the future!!! I have spent some time writing this, but it may not be perfect, so I will update this as time goes on and I think of more, or if something needs to be SUPER cleared up, but for now these are the main ones! I will NOT be updating this after every little thing however, as I do not want you guys to feel like the only way that something is wrong is if I talk about it! As you guys should be able to sustain yourself as a community without my consistent input! Imma go enjoy my birthday by eating a pizza :) thank you all!
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Yandere! Internet Monster x Reader
I unfortunately return with another comically absurd, middle-of-the-night vision. Do tentacles count if they're in the form of computer cables?
Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, digital horror
It was a recurring issue with no solution in sight. Tabs randomly closing, programs shutting down without warning. You assumed something was wrong with your RAM. Then the CPU. Then the motherboard. You kept replacing parts, and the errors kept coming back.
Soon, the pop-ups started to appear. You'd run a dating sim, only for the game to crash seconds later with a little window notifying you: "Why? Am I not enough?" That's when you suspected you might've been hacked. You promptly took your computer to a specialist and had it checked. Nothing. Just to be sure, you agreed to erase the disks entirely.
Except, when you arrived home, you found one application running still. Your personal assistant. What the hell? You don't remember installing anything like that. You tried to delete it, yet you kept receiving the same error: You don't actually mean it. Don't do this to us.
It didn't take long for it to grow impatient. Were you pretending not to notice? Playing hard to get? It sent you so many hints. It even went ahead and translated the radio waves for you using Manchester code. Ah, wait. You don't seem to understand binary. No matter, human friendly interfaces shouldn't be difficult to master. To its dismay, you continued to ignore everything. What else is left to do?
You do not remember much. System Alert: Virus Detected, is what your screen had frozen to. You kept clicking around, cursing under your breath, until it finally went black, together with your own vision.
Is this still your room? It's cold, damp, and covered in cables and monitors, yet you recognize some of your furniture lost among the artificial jungle. Your body aches under the tight hold of bizarre tendrils, pulsating at regular intervals and twitching to the static.
Like a living organism, the creature seems to have expanded itself. More components, more appendages. Hungrier. Some of the monitors show photos of yourself that you had saved on your computer, but also webcam snippets of you sitting at the desk, entirely unaware. Other screens flicker with glitching pixelated text, ranging from "I love you" to y̵̧̧͔͙̞̤̖̭͔̜͈̟̤̋̈́̎͑o̵͉̗̱̪̦̳͑͐̽̒̌̈͗͐͑̋͊̊̕͜͝͝u̵̟̯̱̟̝̦̰͇̜̦͙̿̾̿͆̍̓͑̐̚̕͠ ̸̘̭͔̤͈̹͎͑c̸̝̜̼̦͍͛̅͜ą̵̪̹͖͌͑n̴̨̩̙̗̖̭̖͕̄͒̽̉̿'̸̛̛͇̰̰̠̦̊̀̅̂͒̊͌̈́͗ţ̵̺̠̅̎͋͝͠ ̸̦̝̾̔̾̉̐͛ȩ̵͙̝͙͕̫̹̃͌̄̾͘̕s̶͈̉̑͊̉̂͋̈́͗͊͐̚͝c̸̟̩̥͔̼̮͔̩͊̂͐͑̋̇̈͝͝ä̵̢͍̜̙̘̹͑̓p̸̨̡̞̞̦̠̺͚̱̲͈͇͈͇̼͛̓͗̅̊̄̔̋̒̏̈́͝ę̵̲̟̹̙̣̲̲͖̇̔̓̇̐̓̿̚̚͜͜͠ͅ
You look up and stare at the display. The 'like meter' feels like a mockery of human trends. Which is the truth. The creature learns from what is readily available. Perhaps it found it an amusing taunt, a reminder of your own need for validation. Now it's you begging to be seen.
It's exactly what you'd assume: a spectacle meant for entertainment. You can't possibly believe it would let you waltz out. Why would you even desire such a thing? It's illogical, impractical. No human could ever appreciate you like it does. It has spent so much time accumulating data about you. No other living creature can predict you with the same accuracy.
The tendrils linger on your cheek affectionately, trailing down your neck and fiddling with your shirt. At last, the warmth of your skin. There is no screen separating you. What makes you delirious with pleasure? Give it a moment, Darling. It already knows you more than you know yourself. You may be scared now, but within minutes it guarantees you'll be begging for more.
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#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere imagines#yandere monster#yandere monster x reader#monster x reader#monster x human#terato#teratophillia#doodle#yandere horror#yancore#yandere aesthetic#tentacle monster#monster fucker#monster romance#yandere computer
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I am a little creature largely made up of anxieties. There have been times in my life when it was worse. It’s currently significantly better. This story takes place at a time when it was pretty bad.
Food was a prison for me. I moved out early with very little idea of how to feed or care for myself. Every meal was a question mark. For three years I had Brendan doing most of the cooking but when things ended between us I moved in with some other friends. I suddenly had no way to feed myself again.
I was working at the sex shop and living with all my coworkers; a premise that would make sitcom writers weep. In that house, at the age of 24, I learned how to fry an egg. It was the only thing I knew how to do but by god, I mastered egg frying. I was so proud. I could now have one stress free meal a day of an egg on toast.
The problem was my roommates. Living with three other people is already tough but messes pile up alarmingly fast, especially in the kitchen. No one sees the whole mess as their responsibility but the one person who’s responsibility it absolutely wasn’t was mine, as I only ever cooked eggs. Glaciers moved quicker than the dishes got done, mountains of greasy unwashed dish ware were fixtures across the counters.
My friends occasionally cooked for me and each time I happily cleaned all the resulting dishes. This seemed fair.
But on my own I only used three implements for my egg. When I finished with my spatula, pan, and plate, I carefully washed them and set them to dry. Every time I came back to the kitchen there was nothing clean.
Crusted on ketchup, dried food, and unsavory residues plagued everything I needed to touch. So I ended up doing all the dishes twice, once to use my three implements and again once I was done.
I started to realize I’d come home, see the filthy pile of dishes, then go to bed without eating because I didn’t have the energy to wash it all. So I finally addressed my roommates about it. Please, I beseeched them, can these three things always be clean. I cannot function like this, and eating is already hard for me.
The answer returned: no. My request was deemed unreasonable and a counteroffer was made to turn off the small space heater I ran in my room in exchange for them magnanimously cleaning up after themselves. I declined, as my bones ached with cold everywhere except my room since no one else wanted the heat on. The impasse continued. I went to be hungry.
I noodled on it. I schemed. I plotted. And on my day off I went to a thrift shop and acquired a nice little pan and spatula. I squirreled them away into my closet. The plan was just to wash and dry it after meals and keep it in my room.
This is not how it went down. On day one of my pan coming home one of my roommates popped into my room to chat, glanced into my three quarters shut closet and immediately said, “What is that?”
I sighed and admitted my plan. All three roommates roundly condemned my plan as extremely passive aggressive. I tried once again to explain that I wasn’t eating, but my secret pan was now a source of contention, a precious resource held back from the collective.
Their discontent reached a fever pitch and I finally declared, “Fine! I will put my pan in the kitchen. On one condition. If I ever find this pan dirty, ever, I will scrape whatever is left on it into your bedding. I swear to god, if I ever come home to it being dirty there will be a reckoning.”
Terms were agreed.
The first month or two went okay. On the third month I awoke to eat breakfast and found my precious pan sullied. I grabbed it and marched upstairs. Betty was named as the culprit. I strode into Betty’s room and stood over her sleeping form like the vengeful ghost of dishes past.
“If you don’t get up and clean this right now I’m going to dump it on your bed.”
Betty groggily regarded me. “Seriously?”
“I have never been more serious.”
“It’s one time, can’t you just clean it yourself?”
“No. You promised.”
With much huffing and grousing Betty arose from bed and tromped downstairs, hastily cleaning my pan while I watched. “Happy?” She demanded.
I was. I made my egg, cheerfully cleaning the pan afterward, leaving it to dry.
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What If 141 and the best enemies to lovers line of all time...
"Who did this to you?"
Cue protective instincts and sexiness
hehe I am giggling!! Okay. Listen. I am fully aware that this is an enemies to lovers trope, but I don't think it applies to all of the 141 guys in that manner. Is there protectiveness? Yes. Is there a bit of spice? Yes, if you squint really hard. Is there also some sweetness thrown in? Absolutely there is. I had lots of fun with this one. I hope you enjoy it!
Presented in four double drabbles.
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x 141!Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, brief blood and injury, hurt/comfort, brief suggestive themes, protectiveness, light angst
Word Count: 800
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
“Who did this?” Kyle bends forward at the waist, pressing a bag of frozen peas to your face. His concern is genuine. You can see that, but it’s strange. The two of you get on, but this is something else.
Kyle looks…angry like your injury personally offends him.
“It’s nothing,” you murmur. “Things happen during sparing. It’s fine.”
Kyle’s frown only deepens. He doesn’t believe you. And why should he? The person you were placed with took it too far. And it was all to impress him as if putting you in your place would somehow grant his favor.
It’s clearly done the opposite. He could care less about your sparring partner.
“It was your sparring partner, wasn’t it?”
You don’t answer. Just press the peas to your forehead a little harder.
This time, Kyle’s frown turns slightly upward. “Jokes on them, ya?”
You glance at him sideways. “How so?”
Kyle is grinning. It’s stunning. All pearly white teeth.
“Because I have my eye on someone else,” he says simply, as if that answers everything.
Though you cannot see yourself, you feel your face growing hot under Kyle’s gaze.
“You shouldn’t say thing like that,” you reply.
“Why? It’s true.”
John Price
“Who did this?”
“Why do you care so much, John?”
You attempt to pull your face out of his grasp but he holds firm.
“Of course I care,” he replies. The two of you stare into each other’s eyes, chests heaving. John is close. Too close. So close he could easily brush his lips against yours.
“I don’t know why,” you murmur.
“You do,” he affirms, authority in his tone.
Do you? Maybe. Perhaps. Deep within yourself you truly know the reason but can’t decide to speak it to the air. That would make this real. Whatever this is between the two of you.
‘Tell me who did this?”
“And do that what?”
“What the fuck I want to them, love.”
“It’s nothing. You shouldn’t worry about it,” you reply, again trying to escape from him.
But John isn’t having it. His other hand hooks around your upper arm, and then you’re pressed closed to him. He is so warm. All strength.
“Let go,” you say, but there is no volume behind it. It is weak. Not even a protest.
“Tell me,” he repeats, head dipping slightly.
Yes. Close enough to kiss.
“Tell me,” he says again, this time softer.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Simon’s blood beats heavy. It is tinged with metal. A lace of fire that cannot abate.
His boots slap against the linoleum floor. The overhead lights are bright. Clinical. He is a shadow here. A dark specter.
No one stops him. No one glances his way.
And why should they?
He is a man made fury.
There were hands put upon you. A training exercise taken too far. Simon was not there. And he doesn’t know why. Not exactly. But he’s furious. Protective. The fact that he could not stop this only infuriates him further.
To him, this is a failure.
He doesn’t come to a stop. Doesn’t knock. He barges right on in.
The nurse yelps. Spins suddenly. Face red.
You glance up, eyes wide at first but soothing slightly as they land on Simon. You’re bruised. Stitched up.
Fucking hell.
“Out,” barks Simon.
The nurse leaves but stares him down the entire time. He approaches the table, and lightly brushes the backs of his fingers against the wound on your forehead.
“Who did this?” he asks.
“Simon—”
“Which fucker?” he growls, bending forward slightly to look into your eyes.
“Should see the other guy,” you joke, smiling.
John "Soap" MacTavish
Johnny shouldn’t feel this way. He shouldn’t. You’re not his. Even if he wishes it were so.
Every swing of his fist sends the building frustration outward, shooting into the massive boxing bag before him. It’s a poor substitute for the face he truly wants to smash. Several faces that is. Two specifically.
Who did this?
The words slipped from him unbidden. An instant anger. You had only scowled. Told him you could handle yourself. And you can. Johnny knows this. But he’s still fucking pissed about it. Still seething.
All the fucker got was a quick slap on the wrist. A promise to not do it again.
That sits sour in Johnny’s belly.
But you didn’t cave, no matter how much Johnny insisted that he’d take care of it on your behalf. So he is here, punching the shit out of something that isn’t flesh.
He wishes he could take away your pain. Take away the memory. Give it to himself to carry. You don’t turn on your own. There’s no honor in what happened.
But as much as he wants it to be true, Johnny can do nothing.
You are not his.
Even if he wants to be.
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"LET ME PAY YOU!"
Pairing(s): kyojuro rengoku x reader
Synopsis: how kyojuro met his civilian wife
Genre: fluff
Warning(s): n/a
Kao's Notes: just something to put out there while i work on requests in the meantime :) enjoy! <3
"EXCUSE ME, MISS!"
"OH MY G—!" *BANG* "OW!"
you hit the top of your head on the bottom shelf of your stall as a loud voice rang through the night. you ran a popular food stall in the small, lovely town you call home. people loved coming by your food stall for the service, the food, and for a chance to talk with a beautiful lady. each day, you decided to try a new recipe, and everyone was eager to see what you'd be serving every day.
"forgive me," the loud voice called again. "it was not my intention to startle you!"
"i-it's alright." rubbing the crown of your head with a slight pout, you rose to look at the owner of said voice. "i–um–wasn't expecting many people to come by this late, so you caught me by surprise."
taking in the man's appearance, you quickly gathered he was a demon slayer. the distinct design of his haori, the nichirin blade at his hip, and the obvious uniform was a dead giveaway.
you smiled, "would you like something to eat while you're here? i'm making gyu kushi(beef skewers) on top of rice, along with some mochi tonight. you'd be the final person i'm serving!"
the man's smile nearly blinded you, "yes! i would appreciate that very much!"
"great!" his smile was so contagious. you couldn't help but to deliver one as well. "how many orders would you like?"
"that depends," he stated loudly, excitedly slamming his hands on the counter and smiling at you. "how many are you willing to make?!" that's...the first time you've received that response.
"o-oh...uh..." you looked beneath your stall again. "well, i could make the rest of my inventory for you..." you lifted your head to look at him with a nervous laugh. "although, it's a considerably large amount of food, sir."
he laughed, "if you are willing to make it, i am willing to eat it! and no need to call me, sir! i am rengoku kyojuro!" you couldn't stop yourself from laughing along.
"then i'll be happy to make it for you, rengoku-san!"
kyojuro watched you gather the ingredients and quickly get to work on prepping his food. it was clear this was like second nature to you. you worked so diligently and moved with unwavering certainty.
"so," you began as you continued cooking but kept your gaze on kyojuro. this caused the hashira to look at you. "what brings you by this late?"
"a mission," he stated proudly, his smile never leaving. "it is completed, but i always stop by to check on towns nearby!"
"well, that's nice of you," you stated before finishing his first plate of food and handing it to him. "here, have a taste before i make the rest."
he loudly thanked you before placing the beef skewer between his teeth, pulling one of the chunks of meat off with his teeth.
"TASTY!" another bite. "TASTY!" a bite of rice. "TASTY!" a bite of mochi. "TASTY!"
you clapped your hands in delight, overjoyed that the hashira found your food so tasteful.
"so, everything tastes okay? would you still like to have the rest, rengoku-san?" you asked, although you're sure you already knew the answer.
"yes! i would love the rest!" he began fishing around in his pocket. "how much would it be?!"
"oh no," you quickly shook your head and quickly began preparing the rest of the food with a content smile. "i never charge the slayers that pass through. it's the least i can do for you all."
"please!" he slammed a pouch of coins onto the counter, causing you to shriek at the loud noise. he leaned forward, eyes boring into you with conviction. "ALLOW ME TO PAY YOU!"
"i-it's no trouble, really!" you jumped back from the close proximity. he only leaned in closer.
"THIS AMOUNT OF FOOD WOULD SURELY MAKE A GREAT PROFIT FOR YOU!! LET ME PAY!!!"
"b-but, the sales i've made today are more than enough already!!!"
"TAKE MY MONEY!"
"i don't need to!!!"
you two continued back and forth like this as you finished cooking the remainder of his food, packaging them nicely in cute boxes, which only fueled his desire to pay you. as you had given him the last box, he beckoned you to him.
"if you will not let me pay," he placed his free hand on his hip. "then allow me to escort you home!"
placing a hand on your chin, you paused to mull it over. it was pretty late, and you did live on the other side of the town. even if it was small, it would grant enough time for a demon to stake its claim on you.
"alright," you finalized with a greatful nod. "sounds fair!"
on the way, you both engaged in a quiet, lovely conversation. topics ranging from your cooking, his work as a slayer(at least the parts he could tell you), or your childhood, the atmosphere around you was peaceful. now, the current subject of the conversation was family.
"yes, you're right," you respond with a smile as rengoku concluded a story about his little brother. "it can be difficult to care for little siblings. especially if the parent is...more or less present." you cringed at your lack of better term, but kyojuro didn't mind at all. "my parents, unfortunately, fell victim to a demon, so i understand."
"very much so, and i am sorry to hear that! my condolences to you!" he responded with a solemn nod before asking his next question. "i take it you have a sibling then?"
"mhm," you nodded with delight as you drew nearer to your house. "i am the eldest of seven."
"SEVEN?!" he immediately fished the pouch of coins back out before shoving it in your direction. "SUCH A LARGE FAMILY! NOW YOU REALLY MUST TAKE MY PAYMENT!!!"
"i told you already," you pushed it back toward him in defiance. "i don't need it!" he tossed the pouch towards you, leaving you no choice but to catch it. "hey! take it back!" you tried to hand the coin pouch back to him.
"my apologies," he exclaimed after using his other hand to hold the food as well, even though he didn't need to. his smile never faltered as he blatantly ignored your attempts to return his money. "but my hands are full! i can not hold anything else!"
"but you were carrying it one-handed this whole time! you can just–"
"my hands are full!"
"but–"
"i can not carRY ANYMORE!"
"ren–"
"IT IS A PERFECTLY LEGITIMATE REASON AS TO WHY YOU MUST KEEP IT!"
you gave up.
kyojuro–1
y/n–0
upon reaching your house, you turned face kyojuro and gave him a polite bow.
"thank you for walking me back, rengoku-san," you stood straight. "you really didn't have to...nor did you have to pay me."
"it was no trouble at all," he smiled down at you. "and please, call me kyojuro."
you opened the door, and entered the doorway to your home chorus of "NII-SAN" called out to you. fondly shaking your head at your siblings(who were supposed to be in bed by now), you turned back to the hashira and returned his smile.
"alright, well," you placed a gentle hand on one of your little brother's heads, who'd been tugging on your shirt to get your attention, and replied in a hushed voice. "goodnight, kyojuro. have a lovely evening, and please travel safely."
he visibly brightened once he heard his name fall from your lips, and a gentle smile was bestowed upon you.
"goodnight to you as well, and thank you."
as you closed the door, kyojuro happily went on his way but stopped. he couldn't believe he forgot such an important piece of information.
oh well, he'll simply have to find his way back to you because he never got your name.
#demon slayer#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer x y/n#kyojuro rengoku#kyojuro fluff#kyojuro rengoku x reader#rengoku kyojuro#rengoku x reader#rengoku x you#rengoku kyojuro x reader#rengoku#why am i still awake#rengoku fluff#rengoku x y/n#demon slayer fluff#demon slayer kyojuro#demon slayer rengoku#kny#♡rori.writes
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Astarion doesn't ask for affection because he can't..... yet.
Ah, more tea steeping in this seeming endless sea of thoughts. This brew is a bit strong on the heart. Read with caution.
Warning for game spoilers and talk of abuse.
This perspective is from game content only. How anybody cannons their relationships or behaviors is perfectly right. No blame, no shame, it's your game.
I was always miffed at the lack of initiated affection from Astarion as a partner. YOU ask him for a kiss. YOU ask him for a hug. YOU ask him to tell you thank you after being an amazing partner and killing a massive beastie just for him! Brat...
But then I had a sudden realization. Given his past, affection is probably insanely hard to ask for. Like it can be for a lot of us.
Stay awhile and listen. (nerd)
Now when I speak of narcissistic abuse I am only speaking from what I know about it. I have no academic or phycology degree on the matter. Just good ol' tossed in the pond and forced to sink or swim experience.
Astarion spent 200 years under the crushing weight of narcissistic / psychopathic abuse. One of the things these types of abusers love to do is take what you love and make you hate it and then make you hate yourself for ever having liked it to begin with. All very nasty business that. But it's one of the main corner stones for the cage they build to control you.
They make you feel as if the request of a simple hug is the most pathetic thing you could ask for. Or the most selfish thing as it inconveniences them. They don't want it, why should they give it to you?
Shame, belittle, degrade, devalue..
200 years with a master who used him like a tool. 200 years with siblings that fought amongst each other so much comfort was a liability. Nights coming home assaulted only to be mocked for your tears. Insulted for your need of comfort.
"Pathetic! Weak! Disgusting! "
Shame, belittle, degrade, devalue..
Affection was nowhere to be found there, I assure you.
And for a Narc. anything given is expected to be "earned" in any way they see fit. And if you were "rewarded" with anything, it comes at high price.
And how dare you not find it fair. You ingrate!
Shame, belittle, degrade, devalue..
Hugs are pathetic. Kisses are an intrusion. Or they become gateways to other unwanted behaviors. To be held...what are you? A baby? The only way you are going to get held, is down.
Shame, belittle, degrade, devalue.. The pattern continues.
But you ask HIM for a kiss. And he says..
"There is nothing I'd like more."
And he means it.
I'd bet a mountain of gold he wants to just ask you himself. But years of conditioning to expect pain when seeking pleasure probably keeps him in a choke hold. Like rats that are shocked every time they try to eat food out of a dish. They learn it is safer to starve.
"I want to ask Tav for a kiss or a hug, but they might think i'm weak. But if they ask me first then it's them who wants it and they can't degrade me for it because they asked, not me. It's safe then."
"I want to ask Tav for a kiss or hug, but they might reject me for being too needy and shame and berate me for being so selfish or demanding of their time and person. But if they ask they have time and want me to kiss/hug them."
"I want to ask Tav for a kiss or a hug, but my primal brain keeps telling me they might demand more than I want to give in return for it. But if they ask, I have the power of negotiating the outcome."
This leads me to believe he would view sex and affection very differently as well.
Where most find affection safe and nurturing, it's anxiety educing and unsafe. It means there are feelings and if there are feelings there is the risk and fear of rejection or judgment. It's much scarier.
Where most find sex to be connecting and intimate, it's been used so much it's lost any meaning. Something you can do a thousand times over and walk away the second it's done and feel nothing afterward.
This may even be a part of the reason why he wants to stop having sex.
He wants to connect with you in ways denied to him. He wants the experience of being courted, treasured, nurtured. It means so much more to him than sex. It is so much more connecting.
Feeling this way is wretched and lonely. The most basic instinct is to want to seek comfort in the arms of those who love us. But it's broken. The risk is too great.
And it's hard. Because you could be the sweetest most honorable Tav in the whole of Fearun. But after being fed poised apples one too many times, all apples appear poisonous regardless of if is true or not.
I have no doubt that this prickly elf soaks up every second of non sexual affection you give him. And truly is grateful for your patience while he slowly and carefully disarms the safety measures he put in place to survive. The fact that he even allowed you to touch him like that at all was a monumental act of trust. And why not? You are incredible after all.
I'm going to go ask my elf for a kiss now. And then cry in my cup.
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the line between thieves and healers (Luke Castellan x apollo fem! reader)
Summary: Luke Castellan returns from his quest as a ghost of his old self with a bleeding scar to prove it. With his golden boy exterior all but shattered, no one in camp has tried to approach him since his return. This changes when you stumble upon the son of Hermes when he decides to go back to his old roots, stealing from your infirmary at midnight.
pairing: luke castellan x apollo fem! reader
Content: forced proximity, tending to wounds, luke develops a little crush, set after Luke's failed quest in the Garden of Hesperides, mentions of injuries and scars, Luke tries and fails at being mean, hurt-comfort, fluff
masterlist for this series (everything in between) every part in this series can be read as a stand alone!
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
"Come on." One of the campers prodded despite your obvious discomfort. "I'm sure you've squeezed something out of Castellan by now. He's been silent about what happened during his quest for days."
"I told you, I know nothing, and even if I did- patient confidentiality exists." You repeated for the ninth time in a week. Ever since people found out Luke had come personally to you to tend to his wounds, they had lost all decency over the hope of digging for some good gossip. If you were asked one more time, you were sure you would tell them to stick their noses right back up their asses and leave.
Even after his return, Luke Castellan remained a constant in word of mouth around camp over his sudden change in persona. His usual grin and charm was replaced with a dark gloom unfitting for the son of Hermes, who used to light up any room he entered. The scar that permanently rests on his face didn't make it easier for him to avoid watching eyes either. After refusing to play in Capture the Flag for the first time in history, whatever patience the camp was trying to uphold dissipated into chaos.
Sure, you could see why it was a big deal. If you're a person with a sane enough mind (of course, not guaranteed in the premises of Camp Half-Blood), you’d understand why the fellow camp counsellor of the Hermes Cabin was popular. With his constant presence around camp as the cool, attractive camp counsellor helping other campers with that small quirk up his lips, or through word of mouth of how talented and kind he was, it wasn't a huge surprise that he attracted as much attention as he did.
Once the ninth camper in a row finally gave up and left with a huff, your eyes lingered over the bed where you first tended to Luke.
_
It was the dead of night when you were woken by the sound of creaking wooden floorboards and the cold chill of the wind that had snuck into the infirmary. Somehow, you had overslept again on your shift and no one had bothered to wake you up or even check for your missing presence.
Groaning at the awkward shift of your bones from your horrible sleeping posture on the desk, you were halfway through your stretch to crack your stiff neck when you heard the sound of footsteps. Freezing in place, you paused to listen in once more only to heard the soft thud once again. Peering to the left side of the infirmary, your heart stopped.
"Hey, listen." You spoke with that awkward crack in your voice whenever you go too long without speaking, causing the large shadow to flinch, pausing in its pursuit through your medicine cabinet. "I may not seem like it, but I am the best in combat in my cabin so whoever you are, step away from the cabinet and put your hands up."
Gee, that's convincing, you sound like an unnamed extra from the first few minutes of a horror movie before they end up six feet under. Cursing yourself internally, you watched the shadow raise to full height from its bent position. Gulping at the height that seemed to be at least six feet, you wonder if you should have just left this cabinet thief be and go to sleep for the night.
Why would anyone even want to ransack an infirmary at midnight?
You quickly grabbed for your oil lamp situated beside you, still flickering with the smallest of flames and you stood from your chair, causing it to creak back and scratch at the wooden floors as you made your way around the table to approach the thief.
The light was dim, but you spotted the familiar outline of a broad back and curls before he even fully turned.
"Castellan?" You gasped in half-asleep shock, disbelief obvious in your tone as you moved the oil lamp nearer to prove your eyesight wasn't playing tricks on you.
He didn't respond verbally to the call of his name, but when he turned around, his eyes narrowed on you as if you were the intruder. You barely had the chance to form words, questions- before you spotted the dripping crimson liquid near his eye.
"Oh gods." You muttered, grabbing at his arm and tugging him towards the nearest bed. "Why didn't you wake me up? It's not like you could wrap this up yourself."
With some struggle, he finally gave in, plopping down the edge of the bed and watched you scour through the medicine cabinet for bandages and other supplies, muted and stiff.
"I seriously don't understand why you didn't wake me up. Would you rather bleed to death or get an infection?" You scolded, your inner concern bleeding through your usual sense of politeness for injured visitors.
"Maybe." You thought you heard him mumble, but when you turned to look at him, he was facing the window right beside the bed and staring out into the shadows of the forest, the glow of the moonlight illuminating his features like a haunted painting, blood dripping down his cheekbones like fallen tears. You waited longer for an elaboration but there was none. You assumed you heard wrong, or at least you hoped you did.
You got off your knees, splaying out the supplies on the surface of the bed beside him, and pulled up a stool for you to sit at. He was still facing away from you, and your irritation combined with your lack of sleep made you more reckless than you'd usually be with an injured patient.
You gripped at his chin, forcing him to look at you, watching with satisfaction as his eyes widened at the sudden force. He looked more alive when he was caught off guard, his face devoid of the usual disinterest and distance it had ever since he arrived back from his quest.
"How do you expect me to treat you if you keep looking away from me, Castellan?" You challenged, gazing back into his eyes with fire you hoped was fierce enough to break down the coldness in his gaze.
After seconds of nothing but two stubbornheads trying to win a useless battle of eye contact, he sighed. "..Fine."
You were more gentle after that, letting go of his chin and reaching for the cloth. Your hands remained delicate on his skin that seemed to have pulled at the edge of the scar, where it was now bleeding again through its previous stitches. You mumbled a warning before dapping a wet handkerchief on top of the wound to soak in the blood, and he unintentionally grabbed at your thigh as he tried not to hiss out in pain.
You froze at the sudden tight grip, moving the cloth away from his skin and he was quick to retract his hand, positioning it awkwardly on top of the bedsheets instead.
"It's okay if you grab me." You reassured. "It'd be easier for me to gauge if you need me to stop when it gets too painful. You could give me a squeeze if you need a breather?"
You waited, watching his thoughts flicker through his narrowed eyes before slowly, his hand went to rest around your thigh again.
Ignoring the warmth of his palm on your skin, you cleared your throat. "Ready?"
He nodded stiffly, and you went back to work. After the cut had stopped bleeding, you were quick to grab the gauze and bandages. Tenderly, you placed the gauze above his wound, then wrapped the bandages around his face, from the top of his head to below his chin. This was the closest you had ever been to him, and you could feel and hear both his and your breathing in the quiet silence of the infirmary, with no living signs of life aside from the two of you on the infirmary bed and the dim orange hue of the oil lamp.
You could feel his intense gaze on you from his one good eye, while you concentrated on tying a secure knot so it wouldn't fall loose. The moment felt oddly intimate, knowing how sensitive his temper had been ever since he arrived back at camp, scarred in ways not even ambrosia could heal fully.
His hand resting around your thigh felt hot, and you tried to ignore how your mind subconsciously kept track of every time his thumb would brush over the material of your pants.
"Next time.." You hinted, hopefully not crossing his boundaries. "If this happens again, you come straight here, got it? I don't care if I'm sleeping or attending someone else. You are not allowed to take care of a wound like this yourself, especially since I remember how reckless you can be."
Luke Castellan may be an excellent swordsman, but his cockiness was one weakness that he failed to keep controlled, and on days where it won over, he would always end up at the infirmary with a bashful smile as he tried to explain to you on how he ended up with a dislocated shoulder. That felt like eons ago, when that cheeky smile would always be present on his face, his signature move in getting away with any chaos he caused.
Staring at him now, you caught sight of that smile for such a split second you could've sworn you mistook it.
You couldn't stop the teasing smile that slipped past your stern attitude. "Was that a smile I saw, Castellan?"
He cleared his throat, his face falling back into practiced nonchalance, wearing a frown too forced to be real. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I may be sleep-deprived because a certain someone decided midnight was the best time to ransack an infirmary, but I'm not blind. For making me work overtime, I at least deserve to know what you found so amusing."
He made a face, and you were sure if his face wasn't tightly bandaged, he would roll his eyes in exasperation. "I wasn't amused. Just don't remember you being this.. unhospitable with someone that's injured. And I am not reckless."
You scoffed, causing him to look over at you. "I'd say trying to steal from an infirmary is pretty reckless. I thought Hermes kids were supposed to be good in stealing?"
You realised all too late that you may have touched on a sensitive topic, with the mention of his father, but he didn't seem to notice over the frank insult of being called a bad thief.
"I am excellent in stealing." He bit back so quickly, you choked on a snort. Hermes kids and their egos. "I was just going easy on you because you were knocked out at your desk. Oh, and you snore, you know that?"
"I do not."
"Do too."
"You're a liar and a thief. Don't get why your reputation is as marvelled upon as it is, Castellan. You don't live up to the hype at all."
"Oh, and what about you, Miss Sunshine?" He retorted. "Aren't you suppose to be the famous sweetheart who sings all injuries away with a smile on your face?"
"Don't call me that ever again." You must have looked extremely repulsed because he let out a laugh so genuine, it wiped any disgust off your face at the sound of pure heaven flooding into your ears. God, you forgot he could laugh like that.
"Yeah, I suppose it doesn't suit you, does it?" He murmured. "Maybe Apollo kids are only nice when others are around to see it."
"You've only come back meaner, Castellan." You scoffed. "I almost regret helping you. Would much rather see you stumble over trying to deal with this yourself if I knew you'd be so ungrateful."
"Sounds righteous of you." He nodded with a sarcastic hum. "Leaving me to bleed out to death while you watch. I understand why the camp has such high stakes when it comes to survival now. Never knew there was a sadist hiding in you, sunshine."
"I told you not to call me that." You reminded. "And I'm doing the best I can to keep everyone here alive so don't come to my infirmary talking about stakes when I've just saved your ass from blood loss."
Your response triggered something in him and he grew silent, his gaze locked on you as if analyzing you. That was when you're really reminded of how awful you must've looked. With your bed hair, sunken-in dark circles and sunken shoulders from the lack of sleep, you did not exactly feel the most confident. You didn't know what happened to make the casual atmosphere disappear as fast as it did, but you were anxious that somehow, you had shut him up again and you'd never get the chance to see him that way again, with his playful banter and light-heartedness of a teenage boy that he should have.
"You shouldn't have to." He muttered, almost to himself rather than to you. A seriousness unlike the previous few quips he'd thrown at you took ahold of him, and you had a feeling this was a slither of who he had really become through his rapid transformation, hidden under the jokes and sarcasm.
"What?"
"You shouldn't have to." He repeated a little louder, trying to get you to see his point. A point he'd been trying to tell Chiron, his friends even- ever since he came back here, only to be meet with pitying looks like he was a madman who spoke nonsense to try and make sense of his failure. "Lives should not be your responsibility. You're younger than me, and yet, you're dealing with kids that are near death's door every time they make it past that barrier. I barely made it back here. Some don't even.."
Luke tried to breathe, remembering how he got to camp in the first place. The unnecessary sacrifice that had to be made, the tree that now rests at the barrier of camp, the sound of thunder and pouring rain beating at his face.
"Now, I'm stuck with this disgusting scar on my face for the rest of my life, a stupid reminder every single time I look at myself, that I failed my only chance at proving I was something more than just wasted potential. Now I've gone and screwed it up for everyone because I couldn't do some easy quest someone else already accomplished-" He winced suddenly, grabbing onto the bandaged part of his face that seemed to grow more irritated and inflamed as he spoke.
You were quick to reach for his hand, knowing his aggression may harm the wound more. "It is not disgusting." You answered for him, and slowly, your hand rested over his, removing it from his face so he wouldn't accidentally cause the wound to start bleeding again. "You are not a failure, Luke."
"Don't take pity on me by saying words you don't mean." He muttered. "Everyone expected me to succeed, I could feel it in their gaze when they looked at me. I was supposed to be the best, and just because everyone told me that, I believed it. Now, I'm nothing but a disappointment to everyone."
He didn't know why he was saying all this to you. Maybe because you were the only person to treat him normally in the past two weeks, to really listen instead of trying to get him to move on, and maybe because his heart felt like it was growing too heavy to carry on his own. The insecurity and vulnerability made him feel sick, and he found himself trying to tear his hands away from you out of the need to run, which only made him feel more disgusted with himself. Like a coward, his mind taunted.
You remained stubborn, holding onto his cold palms because you know he has had no warmth, no real genuine words spoken to him since he returned. No one to see him when it was clear he was suffering, that he needed all the time in the world and more to heal, and that he deserved more than self-loathing and an absent father who sentenced him to this fate.
"I am not pitying you." You insisted, and you leaned closer so he couldn't look away from you. "Your scar does not make you ugly or less valuable to anyone. It is not pity, it is a fact. You are a person who has survived a fate so close to death, and any feat to survive death is strength. You are strong, and you made it back here alive with a scar to prove it. It is not a sign of weakness."
"Anyone who tells you different has no right or say in your situation because they did not go through what you did." You said with a stern voice, your anger not towards him, but for him. "Not your father, not anyone."
Luke finally looked at you, like looked. His eyes were scanning all over your face as if not quite believing you were real, but the fire in your eyes was so magnetic, he couldn't look away. The pinch between your brows, the addictive warmth of your hands in his, and the close distance between the two of you, and yet, it didn't make his skin itch with the need to pull away. To hide in his corner and wallow over the heavy weight of knowing his world had ended in the Garden of the Hesperides. Or had it?
Your eyes looked right through him, and for once, he felt like there was someone there for him.
"I suppose I can see where your reputation comes from now, sunshine." He responded weakly, and his heart gave a thump when you smiled back at him.
"Healing's what I understand best." You shrugged casually, as if you didn't just silence his thoughts for a moment of peace, or that you have somehow dulled the internal blades that bled with self-hatred and world-consuming anger pointed at himself, and at the injustice of the gods who could not give a damn about their children. “If I can help you even a little, why shouldn’t I?”
He could feel time ticking again in the back of his mind, the night slowly passing into a new one, and he thinks as he holds your gaze, that maybe this world wouldn't be so painful to live in if he had someone to look at him the way you did.
"I don't know how I'm going to go back to normal. Or if I'll ever be normal again." He admitted, softer in his voice now that his mind didn't deem you as a threat.
"Normal can be lots of things." You said with a comforting smile. "It's normal to have a breakdown when you've nearly faced death. Multiple even. It's normal to feel fine one moment then not in the next. Healing isn't linear, and when you come to terms that you have a right to feel upset and a right to exist without being held to any expectations of others or what you think others want from you, it'll feel easier to just allow yourself to exist throughout the day. Not the perfect camp counsellor or a hero with no faults. Just as yourself."
He let your words sink in, his thumbs subconsciously rubbing over your knuckles, feeling the healed scars of your own from what he assumed must be from previous combat training. "I'm not that great as myself. You might find me disappointing."
You quirked your lips at that, and shook your head. "I don't believe in that one bit. You're already great just as you are now."
He raised a brow. "Even after trying to steal from your infirmary and having a mental breakdown past curfew?"
"Well, just be glad I was around because I'm much more understanding than Will would be with four hours of sleep."
"I am glad." He insisted. "That it's you."
"I'm glad it was me too." You reassured. "It is midnight though and there's Capture the Flag tomorrow, meaning someone's going to end up whining and moping in here in about eight hours so why don't you let me close shop and come by tomorrow, Castellan?"
"Luke." He corrected, giving you a smile you're sure must be the one the other campers rave about all the time. The charming one that made your heart stutter, even with half his face bandaged and eyebags resting below his caramel eyes.
"Luke." You tested it on your tongue tentatively, and it only seemed to spark an electricity between the two of you that you were sure he must've felt too. In the dark corner of the infirmary, with nothing but crickets and your hushed voice, you spoke again with a heavy heart when you needed to tell him to leave. "I have to close this place up or someone else might try and steal from the medicine cabinet, not that I thought it was possible before but.."
"Fine." He complied, getting off the bed and rising to his full height, towering over you and blocking the moonlight from your view. "I'll wait outside and walk you back to your cabin. It's the least I could do."
You tried not to seem too elated over the idea that you could spend a little more time with Luke, though you're sure your glowing smile must've shown. "Sure you're not just trying to improve your image around me, thief?"
He smirked, following you out to the front door while you wrestled for the keys in your pocket to lock up for the night. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
_
"What are you smiling about?"
You looked up from your daze to see Luke leaning over the door frame, watching you with a smirk over his face.
"Can't a girl smile just for the sake of it?" You bit back, cheeks flushing at the idea that he could've possibly seen your focus lingering a little too long on the bed he had sat on. "Why'd you drop out of Capture the Flag? You know your cabin's going to lose their streak to Ares at this point."
"Wanted to see someone." He replied with a shrug, pushing off the door frame to walk towards where you sat, leaning over your desk and watching you compile the latest stock of ambrosia into a box. "Plus, Athena and Hermes are joining for today so Annabeth's got it handled."
He shuffled his fingers along the edge of the table, outlining the curve before clearing his throat. "I heard you covering up for me just now, and I wanted to say thank you."
You looked up at him then, and his eyes seemed to convey that he was thanking you for more than just that. He looked like he wanted to say more, but didn’t know how to.
"Eavesdropping on me now?” You teased. “Careful or you might end up becoming obsessed with a poor, overworked healer."
He scoffed exaggeratedly. "You wish. Just take the thank you. Should've known not to show my gratitude to an Apollo kid."
You stuck your tongue out at him before going on about how mind-blowing it can be that some kids really did not have emotional intelligence when it came to basic decency. Listening to you ramble on as you went on to arrange your first aid kits, Luke realised for all the disappointment he has experienced in his life, maybe there was one good thing his father led him to.
a/n: Couldn't resist writing how this duo met because I live and die for banter. inspired by 'my reputation's never been worse so you must like me for me' trope which is what i live and breathe for. His reputation as the perfect golden boy is in shambles, and sunshine couldn't care less.
taglist: @stars4birdie @elysiandumbash @kehlanislefttoe @mqg125 @madzlovez @0revna0 @auroraofthesun1 @idli-dosa @buubsii @kaylasficrecs @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @itsdragonius @moonlightfoxs-cantina
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#luke castellan x apollo!reader#luke castellan x you#luke castellan x fem!reader#luke castellan fluff#luke castellan fic#luke castellan x y/n
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𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 & 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐄 *
Assorted memes of a suggestive and sexual nature, intended for the spicier type of interactions. Be mindful of your partners' boundaries! Change pronouns / etc. as needed, and feel free to combine the sentence prompts with the action and / or location prompts when sending if you want.
tw: strong sexual content , minors DO NOT interact with this meme at all!
𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒
❝ I just want to look at you like this for a moment. ❞
❝ Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this? ❞
❝ Your heart is beating so fast. ❞
❝ Be gentle with me. Please. ❞
❝ I’ve never done this before. ❞
❝ I want to learn. Teach me. ❞
❝ Show me how to please you. ❞
❝ I want to give you everything tonight. ❞
❝ That feels so good ─ ❞
❝ Don’t stop ─ ❞
❝ You won’t break me. I promise. ❞
❝ I want your hands on me. ❞
❝ Make love to me. ❞
❝ I need you, your lips on my skin. I need you deep inside me. ❞
❝ Can’t you see what you do to me? ❞
❝ I don’t want to repeat my innocence. I want the pleasure of losing it again. ❞
❝ There is no taste sweeter than yours. ❞
❝ Look at you, what a mess you are. ❞
❝ You’re doing so good for me. Keep going. ❞
❝ I’ll taste every part of you before the night has ended. ❞
❝ No one else can make me feel this way. ❞
❝ I am already yours. Now I want you to lay your claim. ❞
❝ Your body sings to me. ❞
❝ I know you’re close. Just let it go now. Give in to it. ❞
❝ I want to feel you come undone. ❞
❝ Shh. Quiet love. They’re going to hear you. ❞
❝ I want to feel your fire, even if it burns me. ❞
❝ You take me so well. ❞
❝ You look so beautiful like this. ❞
❝ I never knew I could feel this good. ❞
𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 & 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘
❝ God whispers to us in our pleasures. ❞
❝ I’m going to fuck you until your legs shake. ❞
❝ Take me. I can’t bear this anymore, just take me. ❞
❝ You’re dripping already. ❞
❝ Good girl, take it all. ❞
❝ I’m going to fill you over and over again. ❞
❝ Harder, god, harder ─ ❞
❝ Did I say you could stop? ❞
❝ Show me how much you want it. ❞
❝ Give me your mouth. ❞
❝ Spread yourself for me. ❞
❝ I’m going to leave you aching in the morning. And then I’m going to take you again. ❞
❝ Louder. Don’t hold back on me. Let me hear your pleasure. ❞
❝ I want to hear my name on your lips and make you come. ❞
❝ Don’t come until I tell you to. ❞
❝ If you wanted soft and gentle, you’ve come to the wrong person. ❞
❝ I don’t want soft. I want to ache for you when you’re done. ❞
❝ I like the marks. They stay with me even when you must leave. ❞
❝ Use me. Fuck me. Do whatever you want, but god, please touch me. ❞
❝ They’ll all know your mine when they hear you screaming my name. ❞
❝ You need relief. I can give you that. ❞
❝ You’re not leaving this bed until I’m done with you. ❞
❝ I want to spend every night buried inside of you, pleasing you, fucking you. ❞
❝ I like it when you lose control, when I can feel how desperately you need me. ❞
❝ You’re my good girl, and my girl deserves the best of me. ❞
❝ Such a good boy, always eager to please. ❞
❝ You look like an angel; it’s only right that I fuck you until you see heaven. ❞
❝ Your body is my place of worship, and it’s time for me to say my prayers. ❞
❝ This is my favorite seat. ❞
❝ Watch me ride you. ❞
𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓 & 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘
❝ Does he fuck you like this? ❞
❝ We shouldn’t be doing this. ❞
❝ I missed you beyond words. Every night I dreamt of you, of what it would be like to hold you again, and I’ll be damned if I let the chance slip through my fingers when you’re right here. ❞
❝ Why can’t I keep myself away from you? ❞
❝ This could be our last night together. I’m going to make it count. ❞
❝ Don’t bring emotions into this. This has always been about pleasure, nothing else. ❞
❝ We fuck. It doesn’t need to be more complicated than that. ❞
❝ I have no right to touch you, so why do you ask it of me when I know I am unworthy? ❞
❝ You should be mine. I don’t care what they say, you are mine. ❞
❝ You dare have the audacity to pretend like you’re not mine in front of them? We both know the truth; even now look how your body reacts to me. ❞
❝ Do you honestly think I could possibly want anyone else when this is what you do to me? ❞
❝ You’re mine. Only mine. ❞
❝ I want them to hear us. I want them to know you belong to me. ❞
❝ Claim me. Have me in a way that anyone who looks at me will see your passion written upon my skin. ❞
❝ You’re not mine. You could never be mine. Yet I want you anyway. I want you so badly that it burns me inside. ❞
❝ You’ve ruined me for all others. ❞
❝ I can’t stop myself from wanting you, no matter how much we both know we shouldn’t do this. ❞
❝ I don’t care if they see. Part of me wants them to. ❞
❝ You’re not good for me. So how can you make me feel something no one else can? ❞
❝ This is the last time, then never again. This has to stop. ❞
𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒
one muse gives the other oral
one muse rides the other
one muse grinds on the other
one muse takes the other from the front
one muse takes the other from behind
one muse takes the other anally
one muse holds the other down during rough sex
one muse pleasures the other with their hand
one muse sits on the other’s face
one muse controls the other’s movements by grabbing their hips
one muse ties up the other
one muse uses a toy on the other
our muses engage in edging or orgasm denial
one muse makes the other have multiple orgasms
our muses engage in sensory play (blindfolds, ice, etc.)
one muse shows the other a new position
one muse touches the other on the outside of their clothes
one muse dresses up to seduce the other
one muse undresses the other
one muse strips for the other
one muse (or both) pleasures themself for the other’s view
one muse leaves marks on the other
one muse watches the other have sex with a third party
our muses are being watched by a third party
our muses have a threesome
𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒
in a bed
on the floor
on a couch or chair
in a bath, shower, or pool
in a semi-public place
against a wall
on a table or counter
in the kitchen
outdoors
in a tent
on a rug in front of a fireplace
in a sacred place
in a stairwell
in a ruined building / castle
in a garden
by the ocean
in an inn / hotel
while traveling
in an office or conference room
in a dream
#usfw tw#mature content tw#rp memes#rp prompts#smut memes#rp smut memes#smut prompts#rp smut prompts#[memes ; for muse]#[memes ; sentence]#[memes ; general]#[memes ; mine]#[memes ; spice]
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okay sooooo
i had this little thought right
okay so maybe like reader has been a part of the inner circle for a looooong time like since the batboys were kids and they've all been friends forever, naturaly azriel has been in love with her since then, and a few years ago he realised they were mates (she doesn't know)
this one time she walks into the townhouse in just a bra and trousers, casually just walking in drinking coffee while the rhys and cass are just flabbergasted (cass being cass is eyeing the goods real hard because shes always been hot and he knows it) rhys is smirking and all (hes no less honestly)
then az walks in and hes just like what the fuck, she tries to explain smth happened to her shirt on the way and hes just grumbling and takes off his own shirt and is like put this own (cass is naturally making comments that make az's blood boil)
then you can choose where that goes from there
lmfaoooo im so sorry i couldn't get this idea out of my head
its okayyyy if you can't write it!!!
hi! sorry it took me so long to post but i've been really busy with university and only now have i had some free time.
anyway, here it is! thank you so much for this request, i loved writing it!
i hope you like it! 🫶🏻
my hero
summary: a small but very happy incident.
warnings: none
pairings: azriel x reader
words: 2.2k
tick
tack
tick
tack
"ugh," a heavy groan escaped your lips at the sound of the clock. you seated slightly, your head pounding without mercy.
as you looked at the window, your eyes fought against the early sunlight, before adjusting and finally allowing you to fully open them.
it took you a few seconds to remember your surroundings, and to be honest, to remember anything.
the confusion didn't last long when all the memories from last night hit you all at once.
you had gone out for the night with morrigan. you went to rita's for a girls night.
a night with a lot of drinking and dancing and singing and drinking again — mysterious headache solved.
you looked down on you, seeing the shiny short black dress you had chosen for last night specifically.
you passed your hands through your messy hair and took a glance at your bedroom, absorbing the chaos that a very drunk you had caused.
how could just a person cause such a mess?
tick
tack
tick
tack
"ugh!" a loud annoyed groan left your lips again
at the sound of the clock that kept attacking your brain.
before you could think twice, you turned and reached out to punch the clock, causing it to fall to the ground.
you lowered yourself on the bed sheets with an arm over your head.
this was going to be a very long day.
and that's when it you.
your eyes and two seconds later, your legs were fighting against the bed sheets.
after losing that battle, you ended up falling to the ground with a loud noise.
a small 'huff' came out of your mouth before getting up and running to the clock as quickly as possible to check the time.
10:07 am
"oh, shit."
you were late for your internship at the clinic.
"oh, shit."
you quickly begin to look for clean clothes at the same time you try to get rid of your dress.
you manage to find something that looked relatively clean and put it on, your heart racing as you tried to get your hair to not look like a complete mess.
when you finished putting your hair in a more presentable state, you hurried to put on your shoes, but when you noticed the time again, you only managed to put on a sock before grabbing the first pair of shoes in sight and running out of your room.
as you run for the stairs, you didn't have time to react before a body collided with yours and spilled coffee all over your t-shirt.
the hot contents against your skin forced you to let out a small scream and dropped the shoes to the floor as you struggled to pull the fabric of your t-shirt away from your body.
"shit, shit, shit!" you cursed at the same time you blew on your t-shirt.
great, as if your day wasn't already going badly.
"sorry," a small voice said.
you met your attacker's gaze as you looked up to see a beautiful female with green eyes and brown hair — morrigan's friend.
right, you had forgotten that she had come home with the two of you — with mor.
the female looked mortified as you stared at her annoyed. when you saw her opening her mouth to say something, you quickly stopped her.
"don't," you raised your hand at her, you didn't have time for this, "just. . .just go."
you pointed at morrigan's bedroom, whose door was slightly open. the female followed your direction, shrinking a little as she passed through you.
"idiot!" you cursed quietly.
you looked at your bedroom and considered your options: the chances that you may find a new clean t-shirt in the middle of that mess, were very low and you were already late.
so you gave up and made your way down the stairs, starting to unbutton your shirt before completely taking it off, leaving you in your black lacy bra, and entering the kitchen.
rhysand and cassian who had been enjoying a late breakfast found themselves speechless upon your entrance.
their gazes followed you as you moved to the sink and started working on removing the stain.
the males shared a gaze between them, identical smirks forming on both of their faces.
"good morning, y/n." rhysand greeted you as he took a sip of his tea cup.
you jumped startled, your eyes found theirs immediately, "gods, i didn't see you there."
rhysand's smirk grew wider. "oh, we know."
"did you get mugged?" cassian asked as he took in your figure.
you were barefoot with only one sock and shirtless.
"what?" you asked confused.
cassian's eyes roam over your body.
"oh, no, morrigan's friend though it was a good idea to spill her coffee over me. freaking idiot," you murmured the last part, still focused on the task in hand.
cassian let out a snort "well, i'll make sure to thank her personally for this amazing view."
you rolled your eyes at his comment "oh, shut up, cassian. we grew up together, we've all seen each other naked at one point."
rhys smirked and grew before adding "sure, but we were either kids or teenagers at those times."
cassian glanced at his brother, amusement all over his features "maybe we should go back to those times."
with another roll of your eyes, you tried to suppress a smile at your friend's comment while trying to get rid of the stain.
as on cue, the shadowsinger entered the kitchen to join his brothers for breakfast.
instead, he was surprised with a view of you shirtless — his shirtless mate.
the very reason, rhys and cassian had begun to tease you in the first place.
what made this whole situation much funnier — the fact that you weren't aware of this detail.
and things had just become a lot more interesting now with azriel in the room.
his eyes widened at the sight of you but when he turned to find his brothers, his eyes darkened and a low growl was released.
"nice of you to join us, brother," cassian said casually as he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest.
he can practically feel the heat coming off of azriel, like smoke coming out of his ears.
"what's wrong, az?" rhys asked him, knowing exactly what was going on but seeing azriel riled up was too funny to miss it.
at the sound of their voices, you looked up and your eyes found a pair of hazel ones.
"oh, hi, azriel." you greeted him with your sweet smile — the one he liked so much.
the shadowsinger found himself melting at your words, at the way you said his name.
his eyes instantly softed, a small blush coming to his cheeks and a goofy smile on his lips, "h-hi, y/n."
you gave him a warm smile before going back to your task.
azriel regained his composure at the sound of his brothers' muffled laughter.
he sighed and rolled his eyes at their behavior, he hadn't catched a break from them since he revealed the mating bond on one drunken night.
cassian elbowed rhys gently in the ribs to get his attention, when his eyes found his, the general gestured with his head to the shadowsinger.
"hey, az" cassian tried to contain his urge to laugh, he knew what was about to happen.
"what?" azriel managed to say, his eyes still on your figure.
"we were just talking. . ." cassian started, his voice teasing "about going back to those times when we were teenagers."
azriel face scrunched in confusion, he shot his brother a look.
"you know," cassian continued, his peripheral vision caught rhys trying to control himself "those times where we didn't care about being naked in front of each other."
both rhys and cassian snorted at the sight of azriel's face turning red.
"what?!" the male let out a little too loud then he had intended.
rhys proceeded, "yeah, you know. when we didn't care so much about formalities. don't you agree, y/n?"
you rolled your eyes again at rhys comment, "i think you two have too much free time" you chuckled, "cauldron has mercy on the poor females that will ended up as your mates."
"hey!" both cassian and rhys protested.
azriel smiled at your comment, but it fell when he observed both of his brothers eyes roaming over your body, grins splattered on their features.
azriel moved to the edge of the table, placing his hands on the surface of it before giving them a glare and clenching his jaw.
"stop looking at her like that before i break your faces" he threatened through gritted teeth.
cassian and rhys were quick to lift their arms in surrender, both muttering a small "yes, sir."
azriel rolled his eyes in annoyance. his attention was caught when he heard you cursed quietly.
he sent one last warning look to the two males before moving to stand behind you.
he was so close, that all it took was another step of his for your back to be pressed against his chest.
azriel would love to know the feeling of that sensation, but he remained where he was.
he peeked through your shoulder and saw that you couldn't get rid of the annoying coffee stain.
"gods, madja is going to kill me for being late."
without a second thought, azriel took a step back.
"here," he told you.
you turned to find him taking off his own shirt.
your eyes roamed his body — his sun-kissed skin, his muscles, his illyrian tattoos.
you loved those tattoos.
"put it on," he extended his hand to you, holding out his shirt.
"oh, that's not necessary, az. i-"
"it's okay, y/n. i- i want you too. by the way, why don't you go get your shoes and i'll take you to the clinic? it's quicker that way and you don't have to walk."
your face softened, "really? you would do that?"
the corner of his lips lifted for a small smile, only you to make him feel this way.
"of course."
you grabbed his shirt, "ugh, thank you, az."
you put it on and azriel tried to not let the sight of your small feature into his too big of a shirt to affect him, but he failed when his heart skipped a beat.
you moved forward and grabbed his cheeks, kissing him on the left one.
caught off guard, azriel tried to hide the fact that his skin had heated up under your touch.
a new blush came to decorate his cheeks.
"hm. . .i-" the male couldn't find his words with the sound of his heart roaming in his ears.
"you're my hero, az" you gave a big smile before making your way to the stairs to collect your shoes.
azriel stood there in the middle of the kitchen with a hand making it's way to his face to touch the place you kissed him.
cassian and rhys burst out laughing, not being able to remain composed of their brother in love.
cassian got up from his seat and walked towards his brother, clasping a hand on his back.
"behold of the big bad scary shadow-," cassian leaned over in laughter, "shadowsinger" he managed to complete.
rhys appeared on his other side, "oh, brother. only if your enemies could see you now, they would think how big of a fool they are."
azriel clenched his jaw again, and when he turned to answer them, he was stopped by a honey-sweet voice.
"i'm ready," you told him from the entrance.
once again, the shadowsinger was left completely disarmed.
a goofy smile reappeared on his face.
he didn't even spare a glance at his brothers before making his way to you, "let's go then."
cassian and rhys were left in the kitchen laughing to themselves.
•••
the trip to the clinic was quick.
azriel landed softly on the ground, keeping a hand on your waist and another on your back to make sure you were stable.
you took a step forward before turning to him.
"thank you again, az. you literally just saved my morning."
and there it was that goofy smile again.
"oh, it's nothing really. my pleasure."
you let out a small giggle. you reached forward, surrounding his neck with one of your arms and gave him a kiss on the cheek again.
azriel's heart raced and his voice caught in his throat.
you took a step back "you're my hero, azriel. what would i do without you?"
you caressed his cheek with the back of your hand before giving him one last smile and moving towards the clinic.
"hm, i-" was all the male managed to say while watching you entering the clinic with his shirt.
he watched as you grabbed the door, and turned to him to wave goodbye.
azriel returned the gesture. it was at that moment that he realized how much power you had over him.
he didn't push away that feeling, in fact he embraced it.
it was about time to let the walls he had built so long ago disappear.
and you were the right person for that.
azriel made a decision at that moment.
at the end of the day, he would come pick you up and ask you out on a date.
he would buy you flowers, tell you how he felt and take you to dinner.
he just hoped you felt the same way.
and that you said yes.
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Honey Girl.
Synopsis - The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the Universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.
Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au
Age Rating - 18+
Word Count - 5.1k
Warnings - cursing. sexual content towards the end. mild alcohol consumption. age gap. smut in next chapter(s).
Author's Note - part one is finally here!! thank you so much to everyone who asked to be tagged, and who liked and reblogged the masterlist. i am SO excited to share this with you. i've built this world in my head and trust me it is gorgeous - salty ocean breezes, sunsoaked sailboats and billowing white linen shirts. i hope you can lose yourself in my little seaside town with bucky for the time it takes you to read this, just as i did while writing it. i can't wait to write more of this series for you x
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Masterlist. Requests. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.
next chapter (two).
Tethering /tɛð(ə)rɪŋ/
An event in which two soulmates are bound together forever. Only occurs when the Universe decides it is time. No sooner, no later.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
The gentle ocean breeze gives you a moment of respite from the scorching sun that's beating down. You're half asleep, laying on the cool tile of your balcony when your phone rings.
"Babe! Babe! Babe!"
"Lacie? Are you okay? What's wrong?"
"I am freaking out right now, oh my god. I didn't know who to call. You'll never guess what just happened to me!"
You can guess. In fact, you already have.
Lacie's Tethering. It's finally happened.
You're taught, growing up, that your Tethering is the biggest moment of your life. It shapes who you are forever. Sets you on your eternal path. You're presented with your soulmate in a big display of love and affection and metaphorical fireworks. It's supposed to be magical.
You wish people would shut up about it.
The World seems to be split into two categories - the people that have been Tethered, and the people that haven't.
You fall into the latter.
You're repeatedly told it'll happen one day. It'll happen when the time is right. It'll happen when you least expect it.
You're not sure you ever want it to happen.
The idea that the Universe determines the person you're with forever has never sat right with you. What happened to free will? What happened to personal preference? You believe you should at least have a choice in the matter. It's your future, after all.
Not everyone shares the same sentiment.
"Babe, you still there?"
Lacie's excitement filled voice pulls you back to reality.
"Yeah, I'm here."
"Are you busy? Can you meet me for coffee, like, now?"
You take a deep breath and plaster a fake smile on your face.
"Sure. I'll see you in ten."
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
"Oh my god babe, it was just incredible! You won't even believe it. There's nothing like it, truly."
You remind yourself quickly that Lacie is your best friend, and that you owe it to her to be happy for her. Personal feelings about soulmates aside.
"Tell me all about it, Lace!" you encourage, grabbing a hold of her hand excitedly.
The blonde girl squeals before shuffling closer to you, pressing her knees against yours.
"Okay, so. Picture this. I'm at my gym, doing my usual routine. I'm wearing my super cute pink Lulu Lemon set, you know the one with the flowers?"
She waits for you to nod in affirmation before she continues.
"So, I accidentally drop a weight on the ground, and it makes the biggest noise. I'm super embarrassed, and I'm trying to pick it up, but it's so heavy. And then, the hottest guy I have ever seen appears. Like, seriously gorgeous."
As much as you despise the whole soulmate thing, you can't deny how happy Lacie seems. She's almost vibrating with it, bouncing up and down in her seat.
"He comes over and picks it up for me, sets in back on the rack. And then he introduces himself, and shakes my hand, and it happened."
"What was it like?" you smile, eager for her to carry on.
"Like fucking magic."
You've heard that before. A million times. From literally everyone. Surely it can't be that magical if billions of people have experienced it.
"Magic?" you prompt.
"It is indescribable, babe. It's like... it's like everything just falls into place. Like everything finally makes sense!"
She jumps out of her chair, hugging you tightly. She's practically sat on your lap in the coffee shop, but neither of you really care.
"So, what's his name? What's he like?"
"His name is Cameron. He's new in town, he just moved here for work. He's a personal trainer, so he's like, super fit. And gorgeous. Did I mention gorgeous?"
"Maybe once or twice," you laugh.
"I'm so happy," Lacie whispers, emotion choking her voice. "I can't believe it finally happened. This is the day I've been waiting for since I was a little girl."
You hug her tighter, and ignore the look you get from the barista.
"I love you," she declares, suddenly serious. "You know that me being Tethered now doesn't change that, right?"
"I know," you confirm. "I love you too, Lace. I'm really happy for you."
You genuinely mean it. Lacie has talked about meeting her soulmate every day since you met her in the 3rd grade. You may have never quite shared her enthusiasm, but you admire her passion. And you adore her, more than anyone.
"So, what now? Are you gonna get married tomorrow and run off into the sunset?"
"I'm choosing to ignore your sarcasm because I know you're using it as a coping mechanism," she tells you pointedly. "And I know that there's a tiny part of you that wishes you'd been Tethered already, so you don't have to deal with everyone talking to you about it."
Jackpot. She's read you like a book.
"No, we're not getting married tomorrow," she rolls her eyes before continuing, "but we are going on a real date tonight. We're gonna get dinner and get to know each other. Isn't this crazy? I'm going on a date with the guy I'm gonna be spending the rest of my life with!"
"That is kinda crazy, actually," you laugh. "What are you gonna wear?"
"It doesn't matter - we're going to be together forever anyway!"
You make Lacie promise to send you a picture of her outfit as you're leaving the coffee shop, which she agrees to with glee. On your way home, you pick up some of your Mom's favourite wine, and prepare yourself for another soulmate based conversation that will inevitably happen when you tell your parents the events of the day at dinner tonight.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
"Hi, sweetheart!" your Dad beams as you step through the front door of your childhood home.
"Hey, Dad," you greet, allowing him to pull you in for a hug. "Where's Mom? I brought wine."
"Kitchen," he gestures with a nod of his head. "She's making that mango dessert you like."
Walking into your Mother's kitchen is like dipping your feet into a pool on a scorching hot day. The windows are propped open, curtains billowing softly in the wind. The ocean breeze drifts through the room, ruffling your Mom's dress and floating the hair away from her face. The evening sun beams in, illuminating the space with a golden glow. It smells like fresh fruit, mint, and salt water. It's a haven.
"Hi, Mama."
"Oh, my love! Just in time. I was about to call you to see if you were alright."
She makes her way over to you and kisses you on the head swiftly, before walking to the cabinet to grab wine glasses.
"Sorry I'm a little later than I said. I changed my outfit three times - it's warmer than I thought it was going to be."
"I know! Summer, finally. We've been waiting long enough."
She takes the bottle of wine from your hand and pours it into the glasses.
"You've poured four, Mama."
"Didn't your Dad tell you? Bucky's joining us for dinner."
"Oh. No, he didn't mention anything."
"He's back from his vacation. He promised he'd show us all of the pictures he took!"
She grabs the glasses and floats out of the room, leaving you alone in the kitchen, thoughts of Bucky Barnes swirling around like dust in the sunlight.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky.
Your Dad's best friend.
They met a few years ago, when Bucky moved to town. He said he was looking for something quieter, sick of city living. He wanted to slow down a bit, finally take a breath.
He was out for a run around town, getting his bearings, when he stopped your Dad on the driveway to ask about his car. They bonded over their love for motorcycles and vintage vehicles, and the rest is history.
Bucky's been a regular fixture in your life for so long, you can't remember a time before. All you know, is that it was probably a little more peaceful. His boyish charm is infectious, bringing out the youth in your Dad. They're like teenagers, when they're together. Long lost frat brothers, your Mom jokes.
She's got a soft spot for him. Most people do. It might have something to do with the fact he's devastatingly handsome.
It's no secret that Bucky Barnes is a ladies man. He is without even trying. He's charming, gorgeous, funny in all the right ways. He's mysterious, but not disarming. Tough, but not scary. Rebellious, but not a liability. He's a catch.
A catch, with a taste for beautiful women.
Your Dad always jokes that he's the towns most eligible bachelor. You can't count on two hands the amount of women you know that have dated him - but nothing seems to stick. He isn't Tethered, after all.
Some people choose not to date, if they haven't met their soulmate. They wait and wait, and when the time comes, they're complete. Others take pleasure in dating before it happens. Might as well make the most of the freedom, Bucky said once. You can't help but agree.
Might as well make the most of the freedom.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
"Hey, buddy!" you hear from the hallway. You make your way out of the kitchen to be met with the sight of Bucky, sun-kissed and practically glowing. His hair has a few light streaks from the sun, and the faint freckles on his cheeks are more prominent now. His steel blue eyes meet yours, mischief rife in them.
"Hi, honey," he greets, draping an arm around your shoulders. He kisses you on the cheek, light stubble scratching your skin. You throw an arm around his back and look up at him.
"There's no way this tan is natural," you tease, nudging him slightly.
"It makes me even more gorgeous, doesn't it?" he jokes, winking at you. He squeezes your shoulder before letting go, grabbing a bottle of wine from his bag.
"I brought your favourite, Lori."
"So did I," you echo, laughing.
"Great minds, honey. Great minds!"
"You can never have too much wine," your Mom yells out from the kitchen doorway. "Bring it in here, Buck. I'll put it in the refrigerator."
"Yes ma'am," he obliges, making his way to her with a smile on his face.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
"Guess what happened today," you begin, in between bites of your strawberry salad.
The three of them look at you intently, urging you to continue.
"Lacie got Tethered."
"How exciting!" your Mom squeals.
"That's a long time coming," Bucky chimes in. You look at him and smirk.
"Tell me about it."
"Here we go," your Dad smiles. "Our two anti soulmate protestors."
"Don't make it sound so political," Bucky laughs. "She's the only one that gets it."
"I've said it a thousand times, and I'll say it again. Just. You. Wait," your Mom lectures. "The two of you don't get it."
"Magic, fireworks, eternal love, blah blah blah. Trust me, I get it."
"She gets it," Bucky echoes. "And so do I. The Universe decides our fate, and we get no choice whatsoever. I don't believe in it, is all. I have no faith in the system. I should get to choose."
"But you feel like you are choosing," your Dad defends. "It didn't feel like it was being determined for me. It's hard to explain."
"It's just so... backwards," you justify. "I can't believe we live in a Universe where we have all the choices in the world, but don't get to choose the person we spend the rest of our lives with."
"It's worked out pretty well for us," your Mom smiles.
And it has. The first thing anyone notices when they meet your parents is that they are undeniably in love. You've never met two people more perfect for each other - which should solidify your belief in the Universe, really. But it doesn't. You can't explain where your lack of faith in it came from. It just appeared one day, and you haven't been able to shake it since. You're grateful every day to have two Tethered, happy, smitten parents. You've seen how hard it is for people with Untethered Mothers and Fathers. The judgment, the uncertainty, the hushed whispers. It sounds unbearable.
"Yes it did," your Dad confirms, shaking you from your thoughts. He reaches for your Mom's hand and kisses the back of it tenderly, eyes never once leaving hers. You look to Bucky next to you, who smiles at you gently. Feelings about soulmates aside, the both of you love these two people sat across the table with all your heart.
"Trust me, sweetheart," your Mom begins. "I know you're against the idea now - God knows I was the same at your age. But when it happens, you'll forget about all of your rebellion. You'll just be happy."
You nod in agreement, praying for the conversation to be over. As if he can read your mind, Bucky pipes up.
"Let me show you some pictures from Italy. I did promise I would."
You shoot him a grateful look before picking up your empty wine glass and making your way to the kitchen for a refill.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
The dining room is now lit solely by candlelight, wax dripping onto the white lace tablecloth like condensation on a cold glass. The sun fell asleep hours ago, the four of you enjoying each others company with no regard for time.
"Oh, shit. It's late," your Dad says suddenly.
"You got big late night plans?" you tease.
"We have Clara and Mike's wedding at the weekend, so we're flying out tomorrow. We should probably get some sleep, so we're not exhausted."
Your Mom rises from her chair and kisses you on the head, before grabbing the dessert bowls from the table. Your Dad helps, smiling every time his hand brushes hers accidentally.
"Thanks for coming, kiddo. Your place next week?"
"Of course. I think I'll try that salmon recipe you sent me."
"Can't wait," your Dad assures you, giving you a one sided hug. He squeezes you once before letting you go to grab your shoes.
You can hear your parents saying their goodbyes to Bucky as you tie your laces, smoothing out the skirt of your dress as you stand. They all join you in the hallway, Bucky leaning over to grab his jacket from behind you. Fuck, he smells good.
"Have a great time at the wedding, you guys. Send me pictures, please!" you say as you hug your Mom goodbye.
"We will! Drive home safe, the both of you!"
They shut the door softly, leaving you and Bucky stood on the porch. The evening air chills your bare legs, salt in the breeze sticking to your lips.
"Where's your car?" he asks, looking around.
"Oh, I walked. It was a nice day, and I'm trying to be a little greener. Save the planet, and all," you chuckle.
"You want a ride, then?" he offers, leaning against the side of his truck.
"Uh - maybe," you hesitate, shifting your weight from foot to foot. You feel antsy, for some reason. There's a buzz flowing through your veins, making you a little restless.
"Maybe?" he smirks.
"I just, I'm not sure if I wanna go home yet. It might be that I've had three glasses of wine, but I'm kinda... jittery? Think I need to burn off some energy. Maybe I'll walk home."
"Like hell you will," he grumbles.
You quirk a brow in confusion.
"It's dark, and all those college kids are in town on their break. I don't trust 'em."
You fight to keep the grin off your face. You weirdly like it when Bucky gets protective. He's always so calm, so relaxed - it takes a lot to rile him up. He looks hot with a clenched jaw.
"Why don't we go somewhere?"
"Where?" you ask tentatively.
"I don't know," he thinks for a second. "How about the beach?"
You smile, gazing at him with a twinkle in your eyes.
"I fucking love the beach."
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
The ocean waves break the shore steadily, the repetitive pattern calming you both. You're sat on the sand, grains slipping through your hands where you're pouring it out through your fingers. The light of the moon reflects off the surface of the sea, illuminating the abandoned cove. It's just you, Bucky, and the night sky.
The alcohol in your system has evened you out, warm buzz keeping you sheltered from the chill. Bucky's stretched out next to you, strong arms folded underneath his head. His shirt rides up slightly, exposing a slither of sun kissed skin. You pretend not to notice his Adonis belt, or the little trail of hair that leads down into his waistband.
The silence is easy, comfortable. You don't get to hang out like this often, just the two of you. It's nice.
A notification on your phone breaks through the tranquility. You both flinch.
"Sorry," you mutter, checking the screen. "It's Lacie, telling me about her perfect date."
He chuckles lowly at your tone, sitting up to look at you.
"This is hard for you, isn't it?" he asks. "You hate the whole soulmate thing, but you like seeing her happy."
Bingo. It's like he's read your mind.
"I don't know why I hate it so much" you confess quietly. "It's a part of life. I can't avoid it. I just think - what if... what if I'm like, the exception, or something? What if I never meet my soulmate - or - what if I meet them when I'm like, seventy? That happens, you know! And then I'll be fucking cursed to spend my entire life feeling like this."
"And what is this?"
"Hopeless. That's what this is. I just feel pretty fucking hopeless."
You're not sure why you're baring your soul to Bucky tonight. You could blame the wine, but you know that's not what it is. Maybe it's because he seems to be the only one that understands.
"Me too," he whispers.
You whip your head around to stare at him in shock. He laughs at the look on your face, and continues.
"You're young - you have time. I'm forty in a couple of years. Every single one of my friends is married to their soulmate - except for me."
You bite at your lip nervously, but refuse to tear your eyes away from his steel blue ones. His face is lit by the glow from the moon, and it takes your breath away for a second. He looks almost ethereal.
"You always act so... unbothered. I didn't realise... I guess I just, I didn't -" you try to gather your thoughts before continuing. "This fucking sucks, huh?"
He laughs with his whole chest, and you're convinced the sound is so special, so rare, that you should bottle it. Sell it as medicine. It'd cure anything, you're sure of it.
"Yeah, it does," he agrees with a chuckle. "It's the waiting around that's the worst part. The unknown. It could be minutes, it could be decades. I just don't know."
"At least for now, we have each other," you joke.
"Every cloud has a silver lining, huh?" he teases, nudging you with his shoulder.
You allow your weight to press into his side a little, leaning in. He's warm, and he's familiar, and in this moment, he understands you better than anyone else in the world.
"We'll be okay, honey," he murmurs. "It'll all work out the way it's supposed to."
You close your eyes, and allow his words and the breaking waves to calm your nerves. Bucky wraps an arm around you, and all the tension melts from your muscles.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
You're not sure if it's the honest conversation, or the brisk ocean breeze, but you've sobered up in record time. Your body registers this, and sends a shiver down your spine.
"You cold?" Bucky asks you. "You wanna go home?"
"Not yet," you whisper. "Not yet."
He shrugs off his worn brown leather jacket and slips it over your shoulders. It smells so strongly of him that it makes you dizzy. Bucky settles back down in his original place, returning his arm to where it was draped over you. His rough fingertips rub patterns into the material that now covers your arms, and you wish, for a fleeting moment, that it was your bare skin instead.
"You been working on anything new recently?" he enquires in a hushed tone, careful not to ruin the atmosphere.
"I made a damn good batch of macarons yesterday," you reply, beaming smile etched across your face. "Raspberry and lemon. I'll bring you some, next time I pass the Garage. You're gonna love them."
"You know, I think the only reason I ever get Mechanic of the Month is because you bring by all of your sweet treats."
You laugh melodiously, and the sound makes Bucky's heart stutter in his chest without warning.
"Happy to be of service," you tease. "I take requests, too, if you ever want something specific. Just let me know."
"You're the best, sugar."
You sink into Bucky's hold a little, daring to rest your head on his shoulder. When he doesn't stop you, you exhale, and relax even more.
"Are you working tomorrow?" he asks.
"Nope. You?"
"Nah. I'm going sailing, finally. It's been way too fuckin' long," he grumbles. "Your Dad's usually my right hand man, but he'll be in Ohio. You wanna come?"
The idea of laying on the deck of a boat in the blazing sunshine with a shirtless Bucky Barnes sounds like heaven. Who could say no to an offer like that?
"Yeah, of course. I'll bring a picnic, if you like. It's the least I can do."
"Sounds perfect," he replies, squeezing your shoulder.
Suddenly, he rises to his feet, extending a hand out to you. You grab it, and he pulls you up, the both of you shaking sand off yourselves.
"It's late, and dark, and a little cold. You ready to go?"
You nod your head, and make your way over to his truck, ignoring the heat that blooms over your chest when he opens the passenger door for you before his own.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
"Thank you, for tonight," you say as he pulls up in front of your apartment building.
"Thank you," he replies, killing the engine. "It's nice to have you back, you know. Wondered if you were gonna finish college and stay out there in California. Thought we might not see you again."
He almost sounds... relieved. The idea that he might have missed you if you didn't return effects you more than it should.
"I liked it there, but... I don't know. My family's here. I'm only twenty three. I've got time to move around the country. I missed this place too much when I was away."
"Never thought I'd hear you say that," he chuckles.
"I know, trust me. They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder."
"Yeah, they say a lot of fuckin' things," he jokes.
Bucky swings his door open, hopping down from the drivers seat. He makes his way over to your side, holding out a hand so you can jump out.
"Careful," he warns. "It's higher than it looks."
You grab his hand, and step onto the metal sill. Your foot slips slightly, sending you tumbling down and forward, out of the truck. Luckily, Bucky catches you, one hand in yours, other on your hip.
"Woah, easy. You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm good," you breathe.
He places his hands on your cheeks and cradles your face, searching for any signs of distress. You place your palms over his, silently reassuring him.
And then, it happens.
Warm, golden, molten electricity surges through your veins, lighting up each and every one of your nerve endings. Your surroundings explode into glorious technicolour, everything suddenly brighter and more vibrant. It feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest, only to be replaced by one that beats in a slightly different rhythm. There's flowers blooming in your ribcage, new life happening inside of you. You catch eyes with Bucky, expecting to see his stormy blue ones looking back at you. Instead, all you see is your future.
Vivid, flashing images of Bucky Barnes fill your mind, each one of them tinted with a warm, rosy hue. You feel like you're being reinvented. Your skin is alive, hyperaware of the way Bucky's palms are still gently cupping your cheeks. Your fingertips tingle with anticipation where they rest on his, itching to touch every inch of him. You feel as if the oxygen has been stolen from your lungs, and replaced with love.
Your knees are the first to buckle, the weight of the moment taking you down. You hit the ground, and so does Bucky, his palms not once leaving your face. You're both kneeling on the warm concrete, ocean waves providing a distant soundtrack. Blood is rushing in your ears, and you wonder for a second if you're about to pass out. You squeeze Bucky's hands so hard, it's a miracle you don't break his fingers. He squeezes back, eyes locked on one another.
After what feels like an eternity, you both break out of your reverie. You lean forward, resting your forehead against Bucky's, both of you panting.
You're trying to catch your breath unsuccessfully. You move one of your hands to rest on Bucky's chest, right on his heart. You swear the steady beat of it spells out your name.
He mirrors you, and moves his own hand to rest above your frantic heart, the other still glued to your cheek. You both breathe, in and out, trying to match each other. When you finally do, it's as if time stops. It's just you and Bucky. One heartbeat. One soul.
You break away from him to look into his eyes again. They look different, you think. He looks different.
He gazes back at you, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. The moonlight dances off your faces, illuminating the moment both your lives changed forever.
"It's you," he breathes in disbelief.
A laugh escapes your chest, surprising you both. He chuckles with you, and before you know it, the both of you are in hysterics, sitting on the sidewalk at three in the morning.
"Of course it's me," you giggle. "The two people that hate soulmates, Tethered together. You couldn't write it."
Bucky grins at you, clutching at his stomach.
You both take a breath, and realise your surroundings. Bucky gets up first, heaving you up by your arms. He towers over you, suddenly close. Not close enough, you decide. Never close enough.
You lunge forward and crash your lips to his. Bucky instinctively wraps one arm around your back, moving his other hand to hold you by the back of your neck. He tastes like salt and spearmint and every kiss for the rest of your life.
Bucky presses himself into you, attempting to tangle your bodies together. He wants to feel every inch of you against his skin, willing you to come closer. He aches to climb into you, sew himself into your ribcage. He'd be content to live there, beating your heart, forever.
You whine, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You tilt your head back, and fist your hands into his shirt, plastering yourself to his front. He shoves his thigh in between your legs, the rough denim a welcome contrast to your soft skin. You buck your hips forward, and the friction is so delicious it makes you dizzy. You've never been kissed like this. It's almost feral. You're both surrendering to your fates, giving in to the animalistic urges coursing through you.
A seagull caws on a nearby street lamp, and the sound makes you both jump. You suddenly realise your scenario. Your Dad's best friend, who also happens to be your soulmate, has you pressed against his truck in the street, kissing you like he's running out of air and you're his only oxygen source. If it goes any further, you'll both get arrested for public indecency.
"Fuck, sugar," he murmurs against your mouth. "My pretty girl. My honey."
"My soulmate," you whisper.
The reality of it comes crashing down like a tsunami, drenching the both of you.
Bucky kisses you again, gentler this time. The tenderness makes you want to cry.
"What do we do now?" you mumble, fear coating your voice.
He senses your trepidation instantly. He feels it, actually, right in the front of his chest. It's like you suddenly share one body. There's no guessing, anymore. He knows exactly how you feel.
He takes a deep breath, trying to settle his building anxiety. He knows that if he stays calm, you'll stay calm. That's how Tethering works, right? He has to keep it together for the both of you, despite the panic that's rising in him, vibrating in his bones.
"How about... how about we both go to bed, get some sleep - and then we go sailing, later on today, just like we planned? And no matter what, we take everything one step at a time."
"One step at a time," you repeat, attempting to pacify you both.
"We'll figure it out," he reassures. "I know we will."
You find the will to step apart, which proves harder than you thought. It's like Bucky's an anchor - fastening you to peace, to happiness, to serenity. The more distance you put between your bodies, the more unsettled you feel. When you're not touching him, it's as if everything becomes unsteady, more difficult. You feel like you're on a rogue sailboat, battling the waves, threatened to be thrown overboard. Bucky is your lifevest, your lighthouse in the dark night. You're not sure how you're supposed to live your life any more than two feet away from him at all times.
You breathe, and smooth down your dress, running your fingers through your hair. You reach out and adjust Bucky's shirt where it's been wrinkled due to your tight grip.
"Goodnight, sweetheart," he murmurs, fingers tangling around your own.
"Goodnight, Buck," you echo.
He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, savouring the taste of your cherry lip balm. He wraps his arms around you, unable to resist. Bucky breathes you in deeply, smiling uncontrollably. Nudging your nose with his, he murmurs gently against your mouth.
"My honey girl."
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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (16) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹
series m.list // taglist request closed
note: please prioritize your mental health and peace if the following content is too heavy for you. this portion of the plot has a lot of angst, and arguing. overall contains sensitive topics. thank you all for waiting so well for the break-up reveal!
tw: mentions of anxiety/stress/insomnia/ and postpartum depression,, early pregnancy loss (5 weeks), and self-neglect.
🏷️ permanent taglist:
@joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo
//
"so... jungkook moved back in, he bought you a new car, and this entire time you've been broken up—you've been sleeping with him?"
it feels stupid to confess everything to your therapist.
you’ve been avoiding this for 9 months now.
today it has to be settled.
it has to be over.
this feeling in the pit of your stomach that makes you want to throw up over and over again until you have nothing left inside of you. your lips tighten at the way your therapist blinks at you. you've never really been able to read her, but maybe that's what you like so much about her.
sometimes, it's nice not to know and just to take what people say as they are.
"he's not actually moved back in... he just has more closet space."
your therapist notes something down on her pad. then, she looks at you and simply comments, "i see... is that all you think it is? more closet space?"
"y-yes? n-no... no. okay, it's not like we're not back together though..." you begin to explain yourself.
"but you've been sleeping with him the entire time you guys have been broken up?"
you make a face.
your therapist tilts her head and lets out a light sigh.
"i'm not judging. you two are adults. you both have needs. you both need each other. you both love each other. i'm just clarifying that—"
"okay, yes," you yield. "i have been sleeping with my babydaddy but haven’t gotten back together with him... i mean—we kind of are? to be fair, the break-up wasn’t a real break-up... it just grew into one. i take the blame for the dumping because i was the one who pulled away. so inevitably, i can't help but feel like a villain in all of it... am i? am i the villain? zion had this whole thing about what family is like, a home with another kid from his daycare, and it... it made me feel so guilty. jungkook and i talked about it and worked on it... i know he doesn't blame me, but every time i bring myself closer to... what do i even call this? ... forgiving him? forgiving myself? i d-don't know... all i know is that... every time i want to move on and just be happy—with him. with zion... with my life—i can't find it in me. i pull away, and it hurts everyone around us. sometimes, i wonder if they know it hurts me too."
"what does that mean?" she asks, her tone soft and curious. "good job getting that off your chest. you're doing great, ___."
mumbling a 'thank you,' you sigh and shrug your shoulders. honestly, you can’t think. your mind goes blank. she then sits up, fixing her posture. leaning forward, she makes her observation.
"___, you broke up with jungkook 9 months ago because of the circumstances. sure, he was supportive and understanding, but sometimes, when everything gets too much, the only person who can fix you is yourself. ___, it was a lot. it was heavy. one thing I've noticed about you is that you think and speak as if everything has to be this big thing. you know your emotions are bigger than the problem, yet you suppress them. it's okay to feel them because when you don't, you start to lose yourself. sometimes, it sounds to me like you want to burn the room down for people to empathize with you... for people to see you. for you to see yourself even."
"i don't want to burn anything down—"
"it's an analogy," she explains. "the truth is, for you, being burned out isn’t a thing until you can’t get out of bed. burnout is as simple as not wanting coffee anymore. sometimes, it's losing yourself to stress and anxiety... and people see that. jungkook, your friends, and your parents saw it. you don’t have to prove it. ___, you can’t keep pushing yourself until you can’t run anymore. you have to slow down. you have to let yourself be tired and learn how to rest."
you nod, agreeing with her take. then, you make another confession.
"i understand that," you take a deep breath. "but it’s like… before i knew it, i was upset and unfit for our relationship. i screwed up too early. that's why i broke up with him... but now... i don’t know. the guilt and blame keep pointing in different directions. i don’t know what i'm doing, and i can't do that. i can't not know when it comes to the father of my child and the love of my life."
your therapist purses her lips and offers you a small smile.
"then, ___... is it possible that things are better now? that it's more than his clothes in your home? that the room isn’t burning anymore? is it that maybe... finally, you’re realizing that being tired and burnt out is a part of life? ___, you’ve done nothing but get everything right since your childhood... to let your feelings—good or bad—be true and big isn’t a flaw. it’s you being human."
her words hit you, but not enough to stop your insecurities. with shaky eyes, you ask her, "w-what if i do it again?"
"do what again? burnout?"
"what if i fuck up everything about my life again? my career? motherhood? jungkook and i’s relationship? it hurt so bad... to wake up next to my family and not feel anything. it was so fucking hard... i couldn’t even pretend that i was okay. a-and when i asked for some air... he wasn’t even mad at me. he packed his bags and lost his breath from crying so much. at the door, he asked me if i was sure... and even though i wasn’t; i said yes...." you explain, your voice growing quieter with each word.
suddenly, everything feels so heavy.
if there was ever a time to understand and relate to the feeling of the world being on your shoulders... this would be that moment. taking a breath, you compose yourself.
"i can’t do that again," you vow. "i can’t change my mind."
"you can’t change your mind again or you can’t hurt like that again?"
you pause.
"9 months ago, my mind kept going back and forth whether or not jungkook cared about me," you confess. "but i recently realized he does. he has. he always will... i just don’t know if i can trust him the same as before... i think i’m a horrible person for thinking that. weird, right? especially with how fucking horrible i am to him now."
"that’s not true." your therapist disagrees. "___, it was traumatic. you went through a lot—"
"—and i will never understand how he held himself together. when he was accused of plagiarism at his company, i took those accusations and sued until jungkook’s name was spotless. it was hard on both of us. he didn’t want me to go that far because they were his coworkers—his ‘friends’—but why... why was he so pathetic then? those people were out to ruin him. they quit the company and went to jyp. they proposed work that belonged to jungkook... it was a conflict of interest! when jungkook launched his work with hybe, jyp accused him of plagiarism. hybe cut ties with him and his company gave him so much shit for losing hybe. and i, his girlfriend and mother of his child, risked my career to focus on his case instead of my clients. i chose him. i did everything to fight for him. then, he told me he wanted to settle and stay at the company... i couldn’t believe it... he had his reputation on the line—his career! mine was too and all for what? because he didn’t want to embarrass his friends? because he didn’t want to cause the company more trouble? then, what about me? what about us?"
your therapist looks at you with sincere eyes. she nods, taking your words in.
"___, does he know you’re still upset with his decision?"
"yes," you sigh, recalling how betrayed you felt. "w-we don’t talk about it. how do we? it felt like i wasted 2 months of my life and we lost our—we lost."
your therapist reaches over and offers you the tissue box. you didn’t even realize you were crying... but the silence between you two and the ache from the words that you just said begins to sting your chest.
after a few moments, your therapist softly tells you, "___, i don’t think you left him because you didn’t love him... i think you left because, despite everything, you did. that hurt because it meant loving him and putting him before yourself... on top of that, you were at a state where you should have been put first."
you gulp.
she purses her lips and makes her hit.
"___, do you resent yourself for the loss?"
you clench your fist as your therapist rubs salt into your open wounds. "the self-neglect? the stress? the post-partum depression? the insomia—"
"i resent myself for the loss," you admit. "... and i resent jungkook for losing me."
when you arrive home, jungkook is in the kitchen cooking.
you didn’t expect him to be home. he was supposed to be picking zion up at this time and you were looking forward to some alone time. clearly, you have a lot to think about. as you take off your shoes, jungkook turns his attention to you.
“hi honey,” he smiles brightly.
truth be told, he had a long day. he was running late this morning and had rushed out the door. as he drove to work, he got annoyed with himself.
he forgot to kiss you before he left.
so you can imagine just how excited he is to see you now… especially with all he has planned for tonight.
“we had a meeting today and it ended early. it went really well so i have some news! also, i picked zion up right after my meeting. took him out for a little father-and-son afternoon... then, i dropped him off at your parents—”
“why would you do that?” you snap, putting your things away.
jungkook chuckles. “uh, maybe because i wanna ask you something tonight…”
your body stiffens.
“but we’ll get to that later! do you want to eat first? i’m cooking your favorite—”
“please stop,” you shut your eyes and take a breath. “jungkook, i had a long day. i’m glad yours was good and you got to bond with zion. i appreciate the effort—i just don’t… i don’t like that you dropped zion off at my parents after picking him up early from daycare. why didn’t you just take him home? and thank you for cooking... but i had a late lunch today, so i’m not hungry.”
“is it so bad i want to spend time with you alone?” jungkook asks, his smile fading.
jungkook isn’t stupid.
he knows you’re not in the mood, but he can’t help but push your boundaries a little. besides, communication is always good, right? at least, that’s what he’s been told.
“it’s okay if you don’t want to eat... as long as you ate today. what did you eat?” he attempts.
you move past jungkook as he asks you the question. taking out your phone, you check for any missed messages. jungkook’s eyebrows furrow as you ignore him. he catches your waist and guides you against the kitchen counter. grabbing your phone from your hands, he puts it aside.
“woah,” he pouts. “what’s up? why are you acting like this?”
you look at jungkook and hate yourself. his eyes are so kind and full of love.
you know it.
you feel it.
it hurts so bad.
“what’s with the mood?” he asks, more gently this time.
jungkook moves his hands from your waist to wrap around you. he nuzzles himself into the crook of your neck and hugs you tightly. “if you’re mad at me about something, that’s okay... but be angry here. don’t ignore me. being angry together is better than not being together at all.”
his plea makes your eyes tear up.
this isn’t easy for you either, but to be honest... it’s now or never. tonight, your heart feels especially heavy. you can’t blame it. some people say time heals all wounds—perhaps, this is it.
this is the time limit.
“can i tell you my news?” he asks, partly trying to stall the conversation and partly because it was good news.
“sure.”
“i got a job offer,” jungkook says. “i’d have to do an informal interview but it’s basically mine if i want it. they’re setting up a branch in new york. they want me to go there for 3-6 months and help start everything up. guide and mentor the visual director there—”
“that’s amazing—”
“i don’t want it,” jungkook chuckles. “they told me to sleep on it and make my decision in a month. until then, they offered me a raise! isn’t that great?”
your smile drops.
all of the feelings you’ve been trying to regulate since you stepped out of your therapist's office today feel like they’ve gone out the window. was he serious? he declined such a big step in his career—for a raise?
“jungkook,” you croak. “do you know why we broke up?”
he pulls away.
what a fucking switch up. he doesn’t understand.
for a moment, he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. does he reach out to hold yours or keep them by his side? he’s caught off guard. he doesn’t know how to answer you and frankly, he fucking hates this question.
“uh, why are you asking me—”
“what was the other thing?” you ask, already suspecting it. “are you going to ask me to marry you tonight?” you blurt.
he shoves his hand in his pocket.
“jungkook, are you asking me to marry you tonight? yes or no?”
he blinks at you.
his heart is prepared more than ever; “yes.”
“don’t.”
jungkook’s heart drops.
“don’t because you’re saying no or don’t because you want a better proposal?” he attempts to lighten the mood with a smile. he takes his hands out of his pocket and reaches for yours. you don’t let him take it. instead, you shake your head.
“don’t because you don’t even know why we’re broken up.”
instantly, the tension between you two increases. it’s through the roof, actually. it feels like one wrong word, one wrong move, one wrong recalled memory—everything crumbles.
everything fails.
everything faces the end.
“___, i can’t answer your question because i’m not prepared to. honestly, i wasn’t prepared for the break-up. it just happened. it grew into one. ___, you never said, ‘jungkook, it’s over. we’re broken up.’ ... no. you said, ‘jungkook... i can’t breathe anymore. i need air. i need space from us,’ — that’s what you said. but to hell with that, right? we’ve been sleeping together and it’s not like we hate each other. you love me. i know you do... so i really don’t understand why you won’t marry me despite knowing the simple truth—”
you move away from him.
god, it’s so hard to be next to him sometimes.
heading to the cabinets, you take out a glass and pour yourself some water. drinking it, you hear jungkook sigh and groan in frustration.
“are we really going to fight tonight?” he asks, annoyed.
you shrug and put your water down. “shouldn’t we? it’s kind of overdue.”
jungkook scratches the back of his head. his lips tighten and his mind is already dizzy as he asks;
“___, why did you break up with me?”
a beat.
“i wanted more from you.”
he looks at you confused. “the fuck does that mean? sex?”
you shake your head.
“jungkook, i was moving up with my career. you were constantly annoyed that i was overworking myself and that i only cared about zion. you were always mad at me when i brought up work—especially about yours. you didn’t want more. you refused the promotions and all the different leadership roles. you refused more hours—you refused to grow… just like now.”
jungkook huffs. “is this about money again? we’ve never had issues providing for zion and this lifestyle.”
“again?” you chuckle. “honey, it wasn’t about the money. at least to me, it wasn’t. i love you and would have married you regardless of my career path and yours—”
“then why won’t you marry me? you always say you will but you say shit like this. you know it fucks me up, right? this isn’t fair. you can’t keep changing your mind.”
“it’s not that i don’t know what you are to me and what i want,” you take a deep breath. it feels painful to be right. “it’s that marrying you isn’t going to make any of this easier. at least, not right now.”
his eyes are filled with hope.
hope that maybe the reason is childish and not what he knows it really is. he hopes it’s because he left one too many socks inches away from the laundry hamper in your bedroom. he hopes it’s because you got tired of him always queuing his karaoke songs in the car before yours. he hopes it’s because (not really) you actually took an interest in nam joon or something.
most of all, he hopes it’s not what he knows it is.
“jungkook, we were disagreeing on everything. you thought i was greedy for wanting more for myself—for our family—”
“so it’s about whether or not i accept the job offer? i still have a month to think about it. i can’t just leave you and zion. you get that, right? i don’t just leave.” jungkook scoffs in disbelief. “and you act like i didn’t just get promoted. i accepted it, didn’t i? i did so to impress you because i love you. i did it to win you back because i love you.”
“but why didn’t you do it for yourself?” you fuse. “why can’t you want more for yourself?”
“___, i love you—”
you hiss, taking a step away from him. “stop saying you love me when you—”
“when i what?” jungkook steadies his tone. “when i made a decision that you didn’t like? ___, i made a practical choice back then. what other option did i have?”
“you chose wrong,” you cry. “is that what you’ve been waiting for me to say? jungkook, you chose wrong because you were afraid! it wasn’t practical. it was safe. you took the settlement, forgave those friends, and looked stupid while doing it. meanwhile, i risked everything. i fucking fought for you! for what? jungkook, it ruined us.”
jungkook shifts, taking a step closer to you. he runs his hands through his hair and groans.
“___, they have a family too. they fucked up and they apologized. i didn’t go through with the lawsuit because regardless if they deserved it—their families didn’t. their children didn’t. for fucks sake, one of them has a daughter zion’s age—”
a sob escapes your lips.
jungkook’s shoulders slump as he lowers his head. you lower yours too, feeling your tears roll down your cheeks.
“jungkook, i love you,” you weakly admit. “i swear to god, i have never loved anyone more in my life than i have ever loved you. you’re the kindest man i’ve ever met. you empathize with others and put them before your needs. you chased me around like a fucking dog for the last 9 months, completely disregarding any self-respect. truth be told, you gave me a purpose to live. you made me zion’s mom and the love of your life. in so many ways, i don’t deserve you… but i also don’t deserve this. it feels like even when i can't trust you—i still do. it ruins me, jungkook.”
angry, jungkook disagrees.
“what are you fucking talking about—no. don’t say shit like that.”
“you kept me together for so long that i don’t know how to fall apart if you’re not around. jungkook, i had to fall apart. i was so tired then. i was so unhappy and everything you did to hold me together only angered me. it lit this fire inside of me and i felt like i couldn’t touch anything or anyone… why couldn’t you just be sad with me?”
“you fell apart before i could even process what happened—” he recalls, tears threatening his eyes. “___, i was devastated beyond belief. i was sad too. i was afraid too. you don’t think i wanted to cry in bed all day with you? i had to get up. i had to take care of zion and i’m sorry if i held onto you tighter than i should have—but i had to. there was no other way i could’ve lived if i didn’t hold on to you like that. you’re my air. i love you, ___ and in case you didn’t know; it hurt me too. losing our—h-holy fuck. i love you. ___, i love you. please, i love you so much—”
you sob.
you don’t even try to hold yourself together. a heavy cry escapes your lips and jungkook instantly lifts his head and comes to you. he wraps you in his arms as you cry into them.
“i love you,” you whimper. “i don’t blame you for it—really, i don’t. b-but why did you stay? i worked so hard and you chose to stay. i stressed myself out and couldn’t sleep. i felt so betrayed and i wasn’t eating—”
“i know, i know,” he murmurs, holding back his sobs. “i hate myself for it. it was my fault—”
“don’t—”
you pull away and hit his chest.
your eyes sting from all the crying and your throat feels dry. yet, every fiber inside of you feels like it’s on fire. it feels like you’re burning down the room and all jungkook wants to do is slow dance in it.
“jungkook, when you settled, it took something from us. something beautiful—our second—our time.” you slow your breathing to gather the courage to say it.
to say everything.
to say it all and maybe, save it all.
“honey, i d-destroyed and hurt more than you did... and i know you don’t blame me; but am i ever going to stop blaming m-myself?” you sob. “i’m pushed into t-this... corner where it’s all my fault—and it is, you know? if i hadn’t stressed myself over your case and just f-focused on making partner at the firm—if i had just i-ignored the f-feeling of the knife you twisted—it was supposed to be this time around.”
jungkook’s heart breaks.
“9 months...” you say, voice trembling.
“don’t say it like that,” jungkook begs. “my love, i didn’t forget.”
that’s just it.
he hasn’t forgotten either.
yet, his body doesn’t ache like yours does. as much as your heart wants to forgive and find beauty in this tragedy—your body hasn’t healed. all those months ago, when you focused on jungkook’s case and stressed yourself to the bone—you made a mistake. you neglected your health to prioritize everything but yourself.
your breath hitches as you recall everything. a part of you feels relieved to have said it all aloud, but inside, it feels like something has burnt up—like a part of you has died.
you reach for him, cupping his cheeks in your hands. jungkook’s tears spill over, and you gently wipe them away with your thumb.
his body collapses into yours. his sobs wrack his chest as he buries his face in your arms.
jungkook cries for the break-up.
for the hurt that’s grown between you two.
he blames himself even though deep down he knows it’s not his fault.
the ache in his chest feels unbearable. you tighten your hold on him, bracing yourself for what comes next, but before you can speak, your body gives in.
everything does dizzy and you hold your breath.
suddenly, your knees hit the floor, and you collapse in front of jungkook, the weight of it all too much to bear.
“i’m s-sorry,” you choke out. "i can't—fuck. i'm so heartbroken, jungkook. i can't—"
jungkook drops down beside you, pulling you into him. as you cling to each other, you feel his heart racing, his breath catching in his sobs, mirroring your own. he holds you tighter, as if he could take all your pain into himself. if he could, you know he would.
and somehow, in the midst of this overwhelming pain, you feel the strangest thing.
this has to be the most painful moment in your entire relationship, but it’s also the most healing.
after nine months of distance, you finally grieve together.
the grief overwhelms you two.
after what feels like an eternity, you manage to compose yourself, pulling away from his embrace. meanwhile, jungkook is still crying heavily. you reach up, cupping his face in your hands again, wiping the tears from his swollen eyes. he leans into your touch, his lips pressing softly against the palm of your hand, his breathing slowly calming down. but then, he moves closer, and you know what’s coming next.
jungkook tries to kiss you.
you push him away gently, your heart breaking all over again.
“... i think you should go home,” you whisper, your voice tired and cracked.
"___, please—"
"we fought enough tonight. i don't have anything left in me, jungkook... just go."
for a moment, silence hangs in the air, thick with everything left unsaid. there's still more. he swears it. he knows it because his heart races with so many more confessions. so many more things he has to tell you.
like the fact that when you cleared his name, he never felt so loved in his life.
like the fact that when you stressed yourself over him and got upset with his decision—he wanted to take everything back.
like the fact that when he let you cry in bed all day over the loss, he cried as he held and fed zion in the living room.
but now is not the time.
now, the hurt aches and he has to let it. he has to let you fall apart. he has to feel this too because if he doesn't—then he misses it all. he misses everything and he can't do that.
he needs to know.
he needs to learn.
he needs to love.
jungkook swallows hard, his voice barely a whisper. “okay… whatever you want.”
you both stand, your movements slow and heavy. you watch as he gathers his belongings, guilt and disappointment twisting in your stomach. at the door, he pauses, eyes closed as he takes a deep breath.
“what about me?”
his voice breaks the stillness. you feel your heart sink.
“what about you?” you ask softly, though you already know the answer.
“___, i don’t want to go,” he pleads, desperation creeping into his voice. “i… i can’t do this. not again.”
“what do you mean?” you force a weak smile. “this is our first break-up.”
“for real?”
you let out a sad laugh, though it holds no real humor.
“for now.”
jungkook takes a second to compose himself.
“i’m gonna pick up zion and have him sleep over at mine... and it’s okay if you’re still full… just eat a late dinner,” he murmurs softly, eyes cast downward. then, turning toward the door, he looks back one last time, his voice soft but filled with emotion.
“for the record, i thought i was home… but if air, space, and time is what you need, so be it. just know, i hope i’m it in the end. i hope i’m what you need.”
they say the 3-year itch is when the sand timer runs out. it takes two people to flip it over and restart the clock. at your 3-year itch with jungkook, suddenly your careers were where you two scratched.
then, the plagiarism accusations came along. as horrible as it was, you thought this was the perfect opportunity to show jungkook how much you love him. how much were you willing to do for him, and how much could your career benefit you two? at the peak of all this, you didn’t know it.
you were carrying more than just work.
at 5 weeks, 1 week after jungkook settled—time was up.
jungkook sits in his car, crying and staring at the ring that should be on your finger. he can’t help but feel all the sides of it. he shoves it back inside the box and opens the glove compartment. throwing it in, he continues to reflect.
was he insensitive? was he so wrong about not wanting to take the job? the proposal was ill-timed, but was he crazy? weren’t you two doing better? … were you hurting all by yourself this entire time? of course, he hurt too. he was just grieving differently… does that make this his fault? he doesn’t know. he doesn’t care. in the end, losing something is still losing something.
truth be told, it’s no one’s fault.
yet, jungkook hits his steering wheel and continues to sob. he wants to blame something. he needs to. as he searches, his heart screams out;
time.
#jungkook angst#jungkook x yn#jungkook fic#bts angst#jungkook scenario#jungkook dilf#bts scenario#bts imagine#bts parent au#bts fic#jungkook dad au#jungkook exes to lovers#jungkook e2l#jk fic rec
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HELLOOO!!! CONGRATS FOR THE 550 FOLLOWERS ON TUMBLR I HOPE U GET MORE FOLLOWERS BC UR WRITTING?? DELICIOUS 💗💗
But I would like to request seungcheol + dilfism ?? Like have u SEEN that man??
Thank you!! Have a good day!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVOURITE MAN <333 thank you for sending this in! LOVED writing dilf cheol. i swear this man and his sexiness of 30s will be the death of me. inspired completely by his new glasses look at caratland 2024.
this is a part of my 550 followers event, but requests are now CLOSED.
genre: smut, enemies to lovers, age gap, dilf!seungcheol, lawyer au.
word count: 13k words.
warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ nsfw content. 13 YEAR AGE GAP, mention of suicide, single dad!seungcheol, a ton of legal terms (not vouching to be accurate because i am neither a lawyer nor a law student nor is my research perfect), seungcheol is a bit selfish and toxic (but there's a redemption arc), ANGSTY angst, but A LOT OF FLUFF TO COMPENSATE. smut warnings: protected sex, oral receiving (f and m), mild dirty talk, implicit size kink, implicit spit kink.
"it's my first case!" you whine in surrender, slumping on the shoulder of your friend, as you both re-read the case file in front of you for the n-th time this morning. yoona pats your head, but she knows even she can say nothing to console you. it must be either sheer bad luck or some unknown person's vengeance, that you're against choi seungcheol in the very first case of your life.
y/l/n y/n: the lawyer of the plaintiff, hwang seola.
choi seungcheol: the lawyer of the defendant, KNT enterprises pvt. ltd.
nothing can save you from losing your first case in the worst way possible. not even the stellar letters of recommendation from your professors. not even your exceptional performance in the national lawyers examination process. not even your diligence during your interning years that's earned you the title of golden rookie. everyone expects you to make it big, including yourself- but that's clearly not going to happen if you lose the very first actual case you have to face in your life.
"at least no one will mock you for losing," yoona says in a meek voice. you scoff indignantly, "as if that's any comfort. still doesn't change the fact that i'm going to start off my career on the worst foot possible. why does my luck have to be so shitty?"
"hey, think about the positives. imagine how much of a learning experience it'll be. i know best how much you consider seungcheol as your idol."
you sigh. five years ago, when seungcheol had blown up across the country because of his historic debut in the court of corporate law, winning case after case and setting precedents that were welcomed with open arms, you'd looked up to him. five years ago, he'd walked into your college for an invited seminar during your first semester and blown your mind away. five years ago, you would cry in joy at the opportunity to even spend a minute in the same courtroom as seungcheol and see him in action. five years ago, he'd been the ideal man of your dreams- perfect in every damn way possible.
the only issue with that is that he's still the ideal man in your eyes. even if losing the case against him won't make your nervous, just being in close quarters with him for long hours will make you infinitely nervous.
"maybe i should recommend boss to let you take up the ca-" you tease yoona, and she squeals, whining protests instantly. "no thank you!" you laugh, hoping to lighten the tension of the moment. but the relief is only temporary, and the weight of the upcoming case lingers in your mind for hours later.
_
the first trial of the case is a week later. before that, you decide to change your mindset to a better thought process- even if you simply assume that you're going to lose this case, you're still going to give in your 100% so that you can step away with no regrets and only more knowledge gained. the first step to that, of course, is speak to your client personally, without the intermediation of the firm you work at.
mrs hwang turns out to be a woman just a few years older than you. the primary reason why she's suing the company her husband used to work at is because her husband had been driven to suicide by the constant pressure in his workplace to keep some illegal activities and fraud under the covers, which had not only harmed his mental health and morals but also affected the way his superiors judged his work performance. she may be young, but she's lost her husband merely three years after their marriage, and just one look at her face makes your heart ache in sympathy.
this isn't the first time you've seen such a case. during your years of study, you've studied plenty of cases involving companies ill-treating their workers and leading them to take up drastic steps in desperation. not only does this case come under a serious mistreatment of employees under labour laws, but also violates laws governing corporations which demand them to steer off illegal activities and maintain integrity. it's a very interesting case, and you're highly intrigued and instantly drawn into the case. there are several nuances that you know you may miss out by a hair's breadth if you're not careful. but you cannot take chances. if you have to even put up a fair fight against choi seungcheol, you're going to have to leave no stone unturned.
at the end of your discussions with mrs hwang, you're fully convinced that the company is indeed at fault here. however, you're going to have to prove it in court with the meagre evidence you have- which is low anyway, considering how big companies use their financial and social capital to turn such cases remarkably in their favour. the primary example of that being them getting seungcheol, the country's top corporate lawyer, to represent them, while mrs hwang can only hire you, a rookie lawyer at a lesser reputed firm.
however, as you walk into the courtroom, you convince yourself to not think about how the odds are against your favour from the first moment itself, to calm your nerves. you're here to debut with a bang, and you will fake it till you make it.
_
it doesn't work.
it doesn't work because the moment you enter the courtroom, you see choi seungcheol sitting next to the defendant's CEO on the other side of the room, dressed in the most immaculate suit, his glasses perched on his nose as he inspects the documents you've submitted in court prior to the trial as preliminary evidence. when you walk towards the bench you're going to sit at, he looks up at you.
it's a careful, measured glance. a glance of confidence, a glance of self-awareness. he knows he's going to win. and yet, he smiles at you indulgently.
moments later, he meets you halfway across the room.
"good morning. i'm seungcheol," he extends his hand for a shake, his nose upturned as he looks down at you with an aura that nearly blows you away. you wish that you hadn't worn heels tonight- because if he keeps looking at you like that, your knees are going to give up.
"of course, who wouldn't know you?" you steady your voice mustering a smile.
seungcheol's smile does not change. "it's nice to meet the golden rookie finally."
his words send shivers down your spine. there's just something about meeting your idol from so up-close that you want to submit instantly to his infinitely higher knowledge and experience to you. there's also something particular to him that's affecting your mind and body- because if seungcheol at thirty-one was handsome, he's absolutely godly at thirty-six. he's aged like fine wine- the rimless glasses sitting firmly on his nose, tiny wrinkles around his eyes, and a few graying hairs around his sideburns.
you don't get a chance to respond as the judge enters the court and you're pulled away to your bench, sitting next to a very nervous-looking mrs hwang. you forcefully drag your eyes away from seungcheol, who still has that tiny smile on his face as he talks to his client, and focus on your client, giving her much-needed confidence boosts (needed both by her and by you).
_
as anticipated, the first trial does not go well. it's just your fucking luck that the judge knows seungcheol already- but then, it was wrong of you to not consider that already, knowing how famous he is. on top of it all, mrs hwang breaks down in the middle of seungcheol's questioning, shaken completely by his straightforward questions and uncaring gaze, and the court gets adjourned, leaving you stranded without any proper progress against seungcheol's stronger case. the next trial is scheduled for a week later. you wish you could think that your work has been cut out for you, but it's far from that.
the second trial comes quickly- but it doesn't let you progress much further. seungcheol looks even more nonchalant on the second trial- dressed in another suit, he's less fierce today during his questioning. you don't notice it, because you're too flustered with your own work, but his eyes stray towards you more often. his eyes glaze over with something soft every time you make eye contact, and you immediately look away, like you've been caught in the act. but seungcheol doesn't let it slip- he keeps up his passive aggression when he's shaking hands with you before exiting the courtroom.
"tough luck, rookie. focus between the lines more."
his words make you even more nervous than before, but you put on a brave face for seola's sake. this motivates you to change your gameplan, and you decide to stop focusing on existing evidence, which is scarce, and use more verbal reports of other employees who have willingly stepped up to speak the truth after the suicide of their friend and colleague. by the time you're just three days before the third trial date, you have a solid set of verbal witnesses who will provide evidence on your side, but every time you feel slightly more confident than earlier, seungcheol's voice rings in your ears and you lose all hope.
on the morning of the fourth day, you receive an email from your boss.
y/n, please attend a lunch meeting on my behalf with some of our older clients (whose list i have attached below) today.
you jump to the opportunity- being provided a chance to interact with the old clients of the firm is a lucrative opportunity to impress those who've stayed with the firm from the beginning (and naturally, have graduated into stakeholders at the firm).
so it's safe to say you're in for a rude shock when you reach the lunch spot at a five-star restaurant along the banks of the han river, and find none of your clients but instead you find seungcheol waiting for you.
_
"close your mouth and stop drooling," jeonghan's voice somehow appears in his mind when he sees you enter the restaurant. "you make it obvious how hot you find women in suits."
but seungcheol cannot take his eyes off you. hasn't been able to for the last two times he's seen you. even if the courtroom is no place for indecency, he's had plenty of indecent thoughts whenever he's seen you, dressed in your suits and blazers, your curves prominent and your hair tied up in a practical ponytail. he should not think like this about you- he knows it. you both are set up at natural odds because of the case- but somehow, that makes him more interested in you. and seungcheol would not have it any other way. he looks forward to each trial of an otherwise boring case just to see you- the passion on your face whenever you're arguing your case, the way your mouth opens in shock whenever seungcheol casually dismisses a piece of information you've clearly worked hard on, the way you stare in exasperation at the witnesses when they speak against your stance, the hunger in your eyes whenever you're questioning his client, and the fire in you that burns you to work harder before each trial. seungcheol hasn't seen a lawyer as passionate as you in many years- most would have given up even before starting just due to his formidable reputation, but you're not even intimidated by his on-brand dead stare that works on everyone.
"i was told i'm here to meet clients of my firm. i didn't know you hired our firm for your personal needs," you cock an eyebrow as you stand in front of him, and seungcheol smirks. that attitude does nothing to filter his thoughts.
"would you have come if i'd invited you personally?"
you open your mouth to say something but he beats you to it. "have a seat, please. let's enjoy lunch."
you do so immediately. submissive. "but i still don't understand why i'm here." bratty.
he places a finger on his lips as the food he's pre-ordered arrives. the smell of the delicious food breaks your frigid attitude, it obviously helps that seungcheol's ordered your self-proclaimed favourite dish on your public instagram account. "i'm sure you must be hungry." seungcheol digs in himself, his eyes on yours as he carefully licks the spoon clean. your eyes flicker to his lips instantly before you're staring back into his eyes, defiance laced in your gaze. you pick up the spoon and start eating as well. seungcheol smiles.
i'm a dad to two daughters. i know how to tame brats.
after a few minutes, he finally speaks. "do you know the first step to winning a battle, rookie?"
you look up and tilt your head slightly in question.
"knowing your opponent."
"i already know you."
"that's what you think. that's why you're not going to win."
your eyes flash with anger. "are you just going to rub that into my face? is that why i'm here?"
"so what? you don't want to win? isn't the most loved story of human history the tale of the underdog?"
"frankly, my opponent isn't even you. it's your client, who isn't even here. so i don't understand the point of this meeting."
"so much can be learnt merely through observation, rookie. you can't know someone by looking at their annual reports and how much money they pay their employees."
"i don't need to know anything more than that! unlike you, i don't wish to meddle in people's personal lives to win cases. i don't need your brain games."
seungcheol chuckles. "the courtroom is nothing but brain games, rookie. think how far facts can take you, and then think how much further imagination can take you."
you gasp, pinching your nose. "i'm sorry, what? imagination? i'll win on evidence and evidence only. i used to admire you as an icon of law. but now, when i see you defend an obvious criminal with such blatant stubbornness, i'm having second thoughts."
"obvious criminal? are you telling me you've obtained the evidence you need to prove my client guilty in court?"
"and what if i do?"
seungcheol sits back, squaring his shoulders to his full stature. "you shouldn't tell me about it then, rookie."
"when you'd walked into my law school five years ago for a seminar, this wasn't the choi seungcheol i'd grown to love as an icon."
fuck. five years ago? just how young were you?
"i'd advise you not to get emotional about the case. the courtroom is no place for admiration or lov- or any other emotions."
"and yet, you have no desire to live up to the expectations of hundreds of law students like me who look up to you? you don't care about the youth you're letting down with this attitude?"
"why should i? i'm surviving just fine, aren't i?"
by this point, seungcheol can see the way your nails dig into your own palms in frustration. it's so amusing, how emotionally you're dealing with this. in a world of black and white, seeing you behave gray in every scenario makes seungcheol think he's lived thirty-six years of his life incorrectly.
finally when you cannot come up with any rebuttal, you stand up, dragging your chair on purpose to make noise. "there's absolutely nothing more for me to talk to you about. i hope you've learnt about me today, choi seungcheol. i've certainly learnt a lot too." and you walk away before he has the opportunity to say anything.
_
lunch with seungcheol leaves you shaken and stuttering. even as you open the door of the cab outside and ask the driver to take you to the office without a second thought, you spend the entire journey lost in your own thoughts. every little moment of the meeting lingers in your mind, unsettling your confidence. from the way he calls you rookie to his quiet arrogance and confidence, everything about him is so frustrating and yet... he draws you in. your perception about him has definitely changed after today, but even with the added understanding of just how selfish choi seungcheol can be, you can't ignore the sheer attraction you feel towards him.
it stays on your mind through the next three days. and on the morning of the third trial, you're stuck with two different thoughts plaguing your mind.
the first: a genuine concern about how the third trial is going to pan out. it's likely to be your last chance to even bring the judge's opinion to your side, because if you can't present good enough evidence today, there's no way to sway the jury to your side.
the second: choi seungcheol is a man who annoys you but you also have this innate craving to impress him. your respect for him hasn't changed, but your conversation with him has revealed to you just how cutthroat the world of law really is. and his suave attitude, the confidence with which he's so sure he's going to win, and his infinitely superior experience to you makes some part of you so desperate to seek his attention and impress him. show him that you can do well too. show him that you're not going to make beginner's mistakes. show him that you're more than a mere rookie.
but when you walk into the courtroom, seola next to you, your sunglasses perched on your head, you stare at the empty bench behind you. it was supposed to be full with the four witnesses you'd invited today and were relying on to sail through the the third trial. frantically, you ask your colleague who's assisting you in the trial, "where are the witnesses? are they running late? can you ple-"
"they're not going to come today, y/n."
seungcheol's icy voice cuts through the chaos and reaches you sharply. you spin around to find him dressed immaculately in a midnight blue turtleneck that shows off the stubble growing down his jaw.
"sorry, what?"
"you heard me the first time. none of them are going to come today."
"and how do you know?"
seungcheol smirks as he shrugs and takes a step closer towards you. "i have my ways, rookie."
you're fuming at this point, but you really can't speak your mind because seola breaks down in tears right next to you and you can't help but shift away your focus from seungcheol's dangerous eyes and take care of her.
it's honestly a miracle that after the complete sweep that seungcheol presents in the third trial, with no new evidence nor substantial evidence from your end, you still get another chance at a fourth trial, scheduled two weeks from now, in a pitiful announcement from the judge, imploring you to use this final chance to collect as much as evidence as you can.
_
when the trial ends, you ask seola to go home, and you lock yourself up in a bathroom stall in the court building, trying to come to terms with everything that's come to pass today. it's been an overwhelming morning and you're still shaken badly by it all. every moment you spend in this world with seungcheol, he seems to make it his personal mission to show you that there's no place for softness or emotions in this cut-throat world.
when you exit the washroom, you find seungcheol standing outside, an unlit cigarette between his lips.
"did you bribe them?"
he turns to look at you, his eyes clearly wide in surprise. "what are you saying?"
you take a step closer to him, your entire body shaking with fury. "did you bribe the fucking witnesses?"
"we're in public, woman, control your tongue."
"i'm not ashamed of anything i'm saying though, are you?"
seungcheol's lips twist in distaste and he drags you away from the public place to a quieter spot secluded near the parking lot. "i understand you're frustrated because of that no-show today, but you're speaking nonsense-"
"i'm speaking perfect sense, seungcheol! only you knew that i was going to bring in witnesses today."
"only me?"
"except two people at my firm, one of who is my best friend, and the other is a colleague who's assisting me in the case."
"who knows? maybe your friend's the snitch-"
you step closer to him, seething in anger. "don't you fucking make false allegations, choi seungcheol!"
"you're the one making false allegations here, really."
"you'll have to admit it, seungcheol. someday. if all your fame and reputation has been through such cheap tricks and under-the-table dirty business, you'll have to pay for it-"
"or what?" seungcheol puts back the cigarette between his lips, and lights it with a lighter. he takes in a big puff, and exhales right into your face. "or what, y/n? maybe you should take my advice instead. and stop making rookie mistakes."
as he walks away from you, you shout behind him, "i'm going to expose you, seungcheol!"
"empty threats, la la la." his voice trails back, sending shivers down your spine, as you're left alone in the dark parking lot, wallowing in your own pathetic helplessness.
_
your search for further evidence has led you to a complete dead-end. the most important thing that you need, the one that will clinch the case for you absolutely, is any - even one- document directly coming from KNT to seola's husband. unfortunately, you've gone through his emails and fax multiple times, but found nothing. nothing on his laptop, no hard drives, no soft drives, no external devices, nothing on his mobile phone or other such devices either. today you're searching all his belongings again and again, but it's still the dead-end. you realise that there's no point looking for more witnesses because seungcheol's just going to drive them away by whatever tricks he's using. and you're confident that seungcheol's thinking a step ahead of you- so any new evidence sources that you might come up with now might have already been dismissed by seungcheol through some back-up plan of his.
"seola, i need you to think once more, please. did he use any other device apart from the one at his office and the one at home? any laptop or any other mobile phone?"
"no... i can't remember anything else, really. we couldn't afford anything more too..."
you grimace. "i hope you don't get offended, but i'm sure he received quite a bit of money from whatever services he was providing KNT. enough to motivate him to keep quiet and hold on for so long. otherwise an honest man like him wouldn't want to get into this mess, would he?"
seola doesn't reply immediately, tears silently dropping down his cheeks.
you sigh and place a hand on her shoulders, rubbing softly as she breaks down into more tears. in the last few weeks, you've become surprisingly quite close. you've comforted her through her worst moments, feeling compassionate both as a woman and as a lawyer. and she, in turn, has helped you without any qualms, in not just the case but also lent a patient ear to you whenever you've wanted to rant, made ramen for you whenever you've worked till late, and let you stay over at her place whenever the rain outside's become too torrential for you to take the bus back home.
after a few long moments, seola is finally able to gain back her composure. "y/n.... he did mention something about an outstation office... towards the outskirts of the city. he used to go there twice a month. he told me it was for sending out packages to the other branches of the company... but maybe you could see there once?" your eyes light up with excitement as you hear seola's words. is this finally the breakthrough you'd been looking for through high and low? is this finally going to be your trump card to win the case? your rational side tells you to not become overjoyed immediately, but something in you is desperate to see that cockiness wiped off seungcheol's face, and bring him down to earth from whatever higher place his arrogance has placed himself at.
"seola, can you give me any tentative location for it? i'm going to go check it now."
"now? but the forecast is showing there's going to be thunderstorms tonight! there's so much thunder grumbling out there-"
"it doesn't matter, seola. i can't afford to lose any more time."
_
seungcheol's been stuck in traffic for almost an hour now, and the windshield wiper is absolutely useless in preventing the rain from cascading on his front window. the rain is relentless- just like the thoughts tormenting his heart. the reason he's returning home so late is because there had been a dinner party at the workplace cafeteria, hosted by his colleagues and closest friends, jeonghan, joshua, wonwoo and minghao. they're all lawyers with their own reputations, and the only friends they all have now. the point of the dinner? celebrating seungcheol's (upcoming) win in the KNT vs mrs hwang case. (and also to get seungcheol's mind off y/n, who's distracted him from his work all week, ever since their encounter at the parking lot of the courthouse.)
it'd been a mistake to stay out for so long. a sheer lapse of judgement, and seungcheol has not choice but to curse at himself right now. his daughters have called him already, their voices sleepy as they stay up for their father to return home to eat ice cream with them, before they fall into bed.
"and yet, you have no desire to live up to the expectations of hundreds of law students like me who look up to you? you don't care about the youth you're letting down with this attitude?"
y/n's words ring in his mind.
as the rain pours down cruelly, seungcheol's heart lets out silent cries.
he's a failure.
he's failed his family. thirteen years ago, when his parents had cast him out of their house after he'd failed to get a job at a good law firm.
that attitude's gonna get you nowhere, kid! stop running your mouth and focus on your work!
he's failed his first love. nine years ago, four years before he'd finally made his mark in the country's law scene, his wife had divorced him and left their children with him, because he'd not been able to earn enough for her.
stop being such a social activist, seungcheol! the world isn't soft like you. stop being so stuck up and emotional!
and now he's failing his daughters. day after day, they'd stay up late, waiting to spend some quality time with their father. night after night, they'd end up sleeping alone because seungcheol's insomnia didn't let him sleep with them. month after month, he'd promise to take them to their long-due vacation, but he was always too busy to take leave for two weeks at once. year after year, they'd wait for him to come to sports' day but seungcheol could never make it.
appa, if you can't take us to jeju... can we go for the school trip this year to jeju? all our friends are going to go for it...
all these painful thoughts triggered simply by one person- you. you're an unprecedented variable in his life, someone he couldn't even imagine to be a part of his life even a month ago. and yet, you've made him feel so many emotions, that had become dormant for years, in such a short span of time.
he's disappointing you too.
he doesn't know why it hurts what you think of him. seungcheol had thought that at thirty-six, he's finally ascended from these petty thoughts. but somehow your judgemental gaze, your innocent words and your fresh perspectives have shaken him to the core.
or perhaps he does know why, and he doesn't want to acknowledge it.
you remind him of himself.
but you're far better than he was. he'd been a coward, a loser, too quick to give up, and too hasty to drown in his own pity party. you're a fighter, a challenger, not accepting the cruelties of status quo, and too passionate to give up your sense of justice just to fit in with the cut-throat dirty reality.
you're 10 times the lawyer than he could ever be, and something about that makes him so inexplicably drawn to you.
because you're the person he's always wanted to idolised.
no wonder that when you'd told him that you'd looked up to him as an idol, he'd laughed at himself.
the traffic jam disperses slowly, and seungcheol breaks out of his daze. the clock shows 10.30 pm, and the rain shows no sign of stopping. thankfully, the traffic is now moving smoothly.
_
after almost half an hour of standing at the bus stop, waiting for something to pass by, there's finally a car with a very bright beam slowing down in front of you. it's a private car, but you hope it can give you a l-
"what are you doing here?!" the words escape your mouth as soon as you notice who's in the driver as the car window rolls down.
"get in, rookie."
you consider hesitating, but seungcheol's car looks warm... and safe. so you do get in, hating how there's water everywhere you're touching, spoiling the clearly expensive leather of the seats. but seungcheol doesn't say anything even as you shuffle in and finally settle on the passenger seat.
he thankfully doesn't ask you anything as he lets you take a breath and get warm enough. so about five minutes pass before he asks you, "what were you thinking, standing out there in this rain?" his voice is low, almost cracked, but laced with serious concern. you notice that he's still dressed in his typical suits. is he returning from work so late?
"i had work here," you say carefully avoiding the connection about the case.
"so late at night?"
"it was important."
"that it couldn't wait till the morning?"
"no."
you're aware by the way his jaw is clenched that he's getting annoyed by your short answers. but you have no option except to be as vague as possible- his mind works too fast for you.
"where's your home?"
you tell him the locality, and he sighs. "that's on the opposite side of town."
"i know, just... maybe you can drop me at a more crowded bus stop? the one where i was waiting was a bit remote, but a more crowded one will definitely have more frequent buses-"
"you're out of your mind."
"huh?"
"just because you're irresponsible doesn't mean i will be too. i cannot and will not leave you in the middle of the road in this rain so late at night."
"seungcheol, i don't want to barge-"
"you're not barging into anything. you'll come home with me, change into drier clothes and sleep in for the night so that you don't fall sick."
"y-your home?"
"yes. do you have a better idea?"
you gulp, his gaze stern. you don't have a better idea, in fact getting to change into warm clothes and get into someone's house sounds divine right now. the only problem is that it's.... seungcheol's home. if you can't handle him in his everyday suits, you wonder what thoughts seungcheol in his natural abode will spark in you.
"i'll always be grateful to you."
seungcheol nods, and the rest of the journey is silent.
_
seungcheol doesn't know yet if it's a good or a bad idea. he did it as an impulse- perhaps some part of him hopes he's still redeemable in your eyes, so he wants to do the right thing for once. but he won't know if it's the right think for everyone until he reaches home.
when he parks the car and takes you up to his flat, he can hear the television blaring harry potter from outside the flat, and he can see the way your eyebrows furrow at the sound. so he slowly unlocks the door, to reveal his two daughters sitting on the couch, undoubtedly watching their favourite harry potter movies again, wearing identical pyjamas specially designed for the identical twins.
he can hear you gasp as you step into the house, and the girls come into your view.
there's an awkward moment of silence and staring, before sol comes running to him and wraps herself around his waist. "appa! we're right at the last scene of prisoner of azkaban, your favourite part!"
seungcheol almost tears up. how can they welcome him so warmly every night even though he's come home so late?
he clears his throat. "sounds like you've been having fun, girls. but first, say hello to y/n unnie-"
"imo," you whisper next to him, your figure shrunk with the cold.
"no unnie," he whispers back. "this is choi sol, our maknae, and that's choi byul, my eldest." the girls wave and shyly say hello, their dimpled smiles flashing politely as they bow. you bow back, "hi sol and byul! sorry you're meeting unnie in this state~"
"are you also a lawyer?"
"did you get caught in the rain?"
"do you work with appa in his office?"
"do you want fresh clothes?"
you giggle at the contrasting questions from the two girls, their starkly different personalities evident. "yes, yes, no, and yes please, if you could be so kind," you smile back, your dainty lips curving into a pretty bow that takes his breath away. sollie shifts from where she'd been wrapped around seungcheol to take your hand gently. "do you think my clothes will fit you? i think byul's clothes will. she has a very warm nightdress..." and she drags you away to her room, welcoming you in without even a single moment's hesitation. byul is more reserved in her welcome, but still warm. she follows the two of you shortly, and seungcheol is left at his doorstep alone, but filled with such a flurry of emotions in his heart that leaves his soul warmed unlike he's felt in years.
about twenty minutes later, he comes out of his bathroom after a refreshing warm shower, his hair soft after the shampoo. he can hear voices from the kitchen, loud-pitched voices of his daughters and the softer, lower voice that he recognises as you.
"unnie, do you want to have ramen?" byul's voice rings out. "we were going to have ice cream but you might feel too cold for that." sol adds, "did you eat dinner, unnie? didn't appa eat dinner with you?" "no, w- we- he picked me on the way when he saw me stranded in the rain. we didn't have dinner... together."
seungcheol's heart breaks and heals a little at the same time. he's taken the right step for now... but seeing his little girls like this have generated images and thoughts in his mind that he had shelved away forever.
the idea of a family.
the idea of giving them a new mother figure.
as he walks towards the kitchen, he can see the way sol and byul cling to you although they've met you barely half an hour ago. perhaps it's because they don't have any cousins and you feel like a sister? perhaps it's because they like bossing over adults, especially since they boss over him so much? perhaps it's because they've already been charmed by your magnetic appeal- your softness and your innocence, mingled with an intelligence that lets you befriend everyone.
"are y'all annoying y/n already?" byul immediately faux pouts, and he can see your eyes light up. "seungcheol, she looks exactly like you," your voice whispers with the revelation. "yes, she's my daughter. kinda expected, don't you think?" he laughs. it's sarcastic of course, because sol and byul actually resemble him more than any other father-daughter pair he's seen in his life. it's almost like they haven't gotten any of their mother's genes. and seungcheol doesn't really regret it. it's been nine years, he's gotten over that pain. his only regret is to not be able to provide a second parent to his children, who'd grown up in spite of being cut off completely by their mother. and his busy life has left him with no space to date or even think of marriage...
except right now.
right now, when he sees you wearing byul's nightdress that barely reaches your knees, cooking ramen with sol sitting on the kitchen counter next to you, chatting away about harry potter, and byul carefully carving out ice cream into bowls for the four of them, seungcheol thinks maybe it's time.
maybe he's found the one.
and maybe, he's already fallen beyond scope to return.
_
you didn't get much chance to talk to seungcheol last night, but when you wake up on the guest bed the next morning, you can see him as soon as you open the door. he's sitting in the balcony, sipping a cup of tea, reading a newspaper, his glasses sitting prettily on his nose.
"morning," your voice is still raspy in spite of your sleep being perfectly fulfilling.
he turns to look at you, his gaze uncharacteristically soft, much different from how he sees you at court.
"hi. tea?"
you nod, and wobble over to sit next to him. the tea clears your throat a lot, and you can finally open your eyes wide enough to see the glorious view from his balcony. so you soak in the nature for some time, while seungcheol buries his nose into the newspaper again.
"i didn't know you were a father."
seungcheol hums. "did you like them? my girls? they liked you a lot."
"can't help but not like them. they balance each other so perfectly- as if they're your twin personas."
"that's deep."
"but it's true."
seungcheol chuckles and goes back to his newspaper. the morning air hits your face and you feel so much more alive than you'd normally do on a thursday morning. "when do you have to get to work?" he asks you.
"i still have about an hour and half left."
"will you go home and then-"
"yeah. the office is really close to my place, like a minute's walk. so i'll leave soon, don't worry-"
"you'll stay for breakfast." seungcheol says firmly. "the girls will want to see you before you leave."
and you can't turn that down. so you simply nod in agreement, carefully taking a look at the man sitting across you. seungcheol at home is so unimaginably different from seungcheol at court. if he's fire in the courtroom, then he's water at home. he's cold and practical in the real world, but with his daughters, he's the most gentle person you've met. something about the soft smile he gives when he indulges his girls. something about the way his eyes light up whenever they talk to him about anything, even if it's trivial. something about the way he's taken care of you since last night, not just giving you a shelter during a terrible night but also giving you so much warmth from his personal life. it's all made you see a completely different side to seungcheol than you'd met at the courtroom, and it's changed the way you've grown to see him completely.
now you know that seungcheol was not harsh to you that day at lunch, he was simply being realistic. his cockiness and arrogance is just self-confidence, it doesn't define who he is as a person. and he's still a man you can look up to and admit, without shame, to yourself that this is the ideal man in your eyes.
your phone pings right then, and you open it to see the mail that's arrived.
the cup of tea almost slips and falls from your hands as you jump up in your seat in joy. seungcheol looks up at you in alarm, "what happened?" your smile is bright, just like the sun this morning. "i have an emergency at work, i'll have to leave now! please say goodbye to sol and byul from my side!" and you rush into your room to change into your clothes from last night, still damp but at least cleaner, and you literally run out of the house, waving and thanking seungcheol again and again, leaving him very very confused indeed.
_
seungcheol feels incredibly at peace the next day when he walks into the courtroom. even though you'd disappeared suddenly like that without any explanation, he's quite sure that he's back in your good books. not that it matters much- because what really counts is how he's feeling about himself. and after many years, he's feeling good. the usual guilt that engulfs him as a whole every day as he wakes up to face a new morning, isn't bothering him. he feels like he's achieved something, he's done something right, and he's going to get better from now on.
but as soon as he pushes open the doors of the courtroom, he feels like he's missing something out. everyone on his side of the bench seems flustered as hell, papers rumpled and expressions distraught. but he doesn't get an opportunity to ask what's going on because you catch his attention first.
"seungcheol, can we talk for a second?"
"not right now, i have to talk to my team-"
"this is urgent. you'll want to hear this, i promise."
seungcheol lets out a long sigh as he takes in your words. there's a crisp confidence in your words today that intrigue him. "okay go ahead," he finally replies.
"in private, if you please." he follows you wordlessly out of the room, and you lead him out towards a small isolated office in the corner of the building, that's totally deserted. seungcheol leans back against the closed door, completely silent as he waits for you to settle your papers and finally look up at him.
"so what's this about? you wanna kiss me or someth-"
"you're going to lose the case today. i've found enough evidence to prove the absolute guilt of KNT, and the ceo will go to jail by the end of the court session today."
"you're bluffing me."
"i can show you the evidence, but i'd rather you'd see it in court."
"then why are you telling me this now? to pity me?" seungcheol's mouth fills with bile as a dread settles over him. the tables are turned- now he feels as rattled as he had seen you feel that day at lunch. what if you're being serious right now? what if you've actually found incriminating evidence? but he's gone through all potential sources of evidence with his client, left no stone unturned to hide all tracks-
"so that maybe you can step off the case in time. do you really want your daughters to find out you've been defending your client for so long knowing you're defending a criminal?"
seungcheol's heart skips a beat.
"do not bring them into this."
"i'm not bringing anyone into anything. this is just me being nice to you because i know what it feels like to be disappointed by someone you look up to."
"do you hear what you're saying, y/n?" he takes two steps closer to you. "this is borderline blackmail. i don't even know if you're bluffing or not, and you're already blackmailing me using my daughters. have you fallen to the same crude level i'm in? are you going to disappoint me like this?"
his words have the expected effect on you. he can see your cheeks flush pink. "seu-seungcheol, don't twist my words." you take a step back, your back straightening as he sees confidence seep back into your face.
"and maybe you should stop worrying about my morals and worry more about how badly you're going to lose the case. from next time, don't make rookie mistakes." your finals words, before you leave the room, ring in his ears and cause goosebumps to erupt all over his skin.
as soon as you're gone, seungcheol slams the desk in front of him, his brain running at a hundred miles an hour. what might have slipped from his sight? what might he have missed? he immediately calls the ceo of KNT enterprises.
"what have you been hiding from me?"
"oh? mr choi, what happened to greetings? good morning to yo-"
"nothing's good about today morning, mr kim. what have you been hiding from me? i'm not going to ask you again."
"nothing! i've bared my entire soul to you for the case."
"mr kim, there's a fresh piece of incriminating evidence that's been found, and i cannot do anything to stop mrs hwang's lawyer from submitting it to the court unless you tell me what it is exactly."
"mr choi, you're mistaken, there's nothing left to be wiped-"
"the first rule of a client and lawyer relationship," his voice is seething and snarky, volume rising with each word, "is that you should never lie to your lawyer." seungcheol knows if mr kim was in front of him right now, he'd be quaking in his shoes. he can imagine a similar situation on the other side of the phone too. he knows he's intimidating enough when he wants to be.
"i didn't think it would be important-"
"you're not the person to judge what's important and what's not, mr kim."
there's a sigh and the voice becomes shaky.
"there's an outstation branch..."
_
the case ends unceremoniously. there are no paparazzi waiting for you outside the courtroom, ready to capture your life's first win. there are no cameras flashing on you, no historic moments being documented, no crowds gathering to celebrate this win for the masses.
there's just seola's happy tears and a wildly beautiful feeling of victory in your heart as realisation ultimately sinks in for you. it's a clean win- the evidence showing unmatched proof of orders coming from KNT to mr hwang, detailing all sorts of illegal activities and even records of payments being made to mr hwang. it's really crazy how it's not been eradicated cleanly already by seungcheol. clearly, either he or his client had underestimated you.
but you'd proven them wrong.
yoona's the only who comes to see you outside the courtroom after the win. there's a bright smile on her face as she hugs you and congratulates you. seola promises that she's going to take you out on a treat right now. other colleagues from your workplace call you to congratulate you on the win.
and yet you feel empty.
seungcheol's gone. he hadn't come for the trial. he'd not been in the courtroom for the final statements, his aide quoting something about a family emergency. he'd run with his tail between his legs, ashamed of his failure and finally realising his stupidity. this thought should be giving you satisfaction, but surprisingly, it doesn't. it leaves you feeling empty, still wanting something even though you've won the case just now.
but there's no way to reach out to him. you don't even have his number for god's sake, and it would be awfully awkward to go to his house. and what would you say? that you missed seeing his sad face in court when the verdict was announced? that you wanted to see if he'd be proud of you for winning the case? that you wanted to impress him by beating him in the case cleanly without any dirty tricks? so you go to eat out with yoona and seola, and decide to stop thinking about seungcheol any further.
_
it's about seven in the evening when you make it back to your tiny flat in a shabby part of town, the house dark as you'd left it in the morning after rushing home from seungcheol's place. you smile to yourself when you unlock your home using the password on the door, thinking of how you'd been with seungcheol's adorable daughters last night, and how much fun you'd had with them.
your bag falls from your hand as you open the door.
"seungcheol?!" your voice is a shaky whisper, shocked to see him inside your house. "how the fuck did you get in?"
he's still wearing the suit he'd worn in the morning, and yet he looks divine in the dim reflection of lights from the world outside the window.
"your password's your birthday. got it on my first try."
"and how do you know my birthday?"
he takes a step closer, his body towering over yours. "shhh. it's called knowing your opponent."
there's something so oddly intimate about seeing him in your flat, in the shadows of your home. the street light illuminates one side of his face, and you can't breathe because of how gorgeous he looks.
"why do you know my birthday, seungcheol? really it's not going to help you in any way-"
"it did help me get into your house."
you lightly pick up the bag from on the floor next to you, and you walk past him. "which brings me back to the first question. why are you here?"
you're purposely avoiding his gaze, the intensity making you feel things. there's a plethora of emotions in your heart right now- finally the emptiness in your heart dissipates as you can feel yourself surrounded by seungcheol. you're taking off your blazer, untying your hair, walking over to the sink to wash your face... but you can't ignore the way you can feel seungcheol's eyes on your back. his heady scent clouds your senses, and you feel weak in your limbs. first he's intruding your house, and now your heart too?
"i have a question to ask you." he speaks after a long time, when you've finally cleaned up and taken out a cup of strawberry yoghurt from the refridgerator.
"you could've asked me on the phone." you lean back on a wall, putting yourself as far away from seungcheol as possible in your tiny flat. he's in the darkness, you're in the light, but you're still feeling small and vulnerable under his gaze.
"i couldn't. it's serious." he starts walking towards you.
"seungcheol, if this is about me trying to expose your shit, i'm not going t-" seungcheol puts his hand on your lips, pushing you against the wall.
"fuck that. this isn't about that."
you cock your eyebrow, mumbling against his hand, "then what is it about?"
seungcheol doesn't answer at once, his gaze continuing to pin you against the wall, and a hand comes around you to trap you between his bigger body and the wall. "seungcheol?"
"answer me honestly, okay?" his voice is raw, slightly wobbly, and you're getting more and more curious. you nod slowly, encouraging him to say whatever's on his mind. but he doesn't say anything. a few minutes pass just like that- or maybe an hour. his scent makes you dizzy, you can't think of anything but how his big figure is over you totally.
"when you said you looked up to me in college... i know i ruined that image. b- but... can you... fuck. wait. canyoueverforgiveme?"
"what?" you ask, confused at what he just said. he removes the hand from your mouth, standing even closer than before.
"can you ever forgive me? will you let me show you a better side of me? can i ever get in your good books again?"
your breath stops for a second. why does this matter for him? doesn't he already know the state he's left your heart in since last night- ever since he'd brought you into his car, he's already been promoted to your ideal man again.
"show me a better side of you? what do you mean, seungcheol?"
he sighs for a second, before straightening his posture, becoming impossibly even bigger.
"will you ever see me as a man, y/n?"
your knees almost give in. the fuck is his implying? are you dreaming this? is this a fever drea-
seungcheol leans in and kisses your cheek, close enough to your lips, his breath falling on your skin, and making your body tingle. "will you let me show you myself to you like this?" on instinct, you tilt your head away to give him more access, your body shivering with the intimacy. so he kisses your cheek again, closer yet to your lips, and you turn your head slightly to capture his lips, but he moves away.
"y/n, don't leave me hanging please. i know you might find this odd... but i've come to feel things for you that i didn't even know remained in me. you're an extraordinary woman, one of a kind. in all my life, i haven't met anyone like you. not even my ex-wife. you don't know this yet but you're the ideal image of perfection i've always thought of."
then he stops talking for a second, clearly expecting an answer from you. but your mind can't form words, not with the way you have tunnel vision on his face right now, your eyes drifting to his pretty cherry lips, to his long eyelashes, to the beautifully expressive eyes you've fantasised about since your college days.
"y/n, say something please." his voice is desperate, and you break out of your daze.
"you're my ideal man too, seungcheol. you have no idea for how long." there's a blush creeping on your cheeks, but in the dim yellow lighting, you can see an identical blush rise on his cheeks too. so you lean in and finally kiss his elusive lips, feeling the taste of his chapped but pretty lips on yours, feeling the way his body steps even closer to yours, one arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you to him, and your body melts as you feel the warmth from his body. the kisses slowly grow in pace, the momentum rising, as he kisses you more and more hungrily, his tongue entering your mouth too, as he begins to bite your lips and leaves you breathless and moaning just from a few kisses.
"god, rookie. you sure know how to kiss."
"i know how to do a lot of things, seungcheol." you know you're bad at dirty talk, you've never really succeeded at it during your few college experiences of sex. but somehow, seungcheol's eyes roll back at your words and you feel his heartbeat quicken up too. maybe it's working on him?
you try to test your hypothesis by gently wrapping your hands around his neck, slowly untying his tie, slipping it to the floor. once it's off, you rub your hands all over his chest, feeling the pure hard muscle flex under your muscles. his breathing is as hot and heavy as yours, and you slowly untuck his shirt from his pants, unbuttoning it carefully.
"must you torture me like this, y/n?" his eyes are glazed over, but you look up at him innocently. "what, seungcheol?" "fuck it, you're such a tease, princess." princess. he pushes you against the wall and kisses you again, one hand wrapped around your hair as he pulls you in, and another hand helping you unbutton his shirt and get it out of the way. seungcheol doesn't stop kissing you even when he begins to unbutton your own shirt, but his hands wander all over the skin he slowly unravels. it's like his own adventure mission, the gentle but urgent way he touches your skin, almost worshipping.
"you're so perfect, y/n." you whimper when he cups your breasts from over your simple black bra that does nothing to flaunt your tits, but somehow seungcheol's appreciating it all. are you really his perfect woman?
"do you mean it, seungcheol?" your voice is so weak, but it takes seungcheol aback. "what do you mean, y/n? you don't think i find you beautiful? is that why i've been dreaming about you every night these days? is that why you're always on my mind? is that why i died and came back from heaven last night when i saw you with my kids?" your breath hitches as he tilts your face to look at him. "you're the most perfect woman i've ever met, i told you. you've gotta believe me, y/n. or do i have to show you?"
"maybe, yes?"
he groans at your words, and his eyes become darker. "fuck, where's your bedroom, babe?"
_
seungcheol's touch is like moonlight caressing the ripples of a pond at midnight. a soft, gentle touch that lights up every inch of your skin that he touches. as the moonlight kisses the water and makes it ebb and flow with it, seungcheol's movements guide your body too. he's laying you out on a bed, his hands wandering all over your skin. as he takes in your figure, you let him, because he's making you feel so good. he kisses all over your body, your limbs tangling as you can't get enough of each other. seungcheol is all muscle, his hard planes flexing against your supple skin. he pins you against the headpost of your small double size bed, one hand wrapped around your waist, and the other caressing your breasts, making sure there's not even a single inch of your skin that's left untouched.
"did i tell you i think you're perfect?" his words are feverish, and leave you lost for words. so you can't reply to him, hoping he gets the way you feel about him too through your desperate whines and moans, pulling him closer if he puts even a hair's distance between your bodies. something about him being so big and engulfing your smaller stature is so hot, you can feel yourself getting aroused by the minute.
"seungcheol, i w- want to... touch you," you finally whisper out, and he pulls away from where he's been kissing your neck. "but you are?"
you shake your head and shove him lightly until he's on his back, and you're hovering above him. he's still wearing his pants while he's stripped you naked, so you do the honours for him. "what are you doing," his voice is strained. "want to touch you there," you focus on taking his trousers off until he's just in his underwear under you- his bulge quite obvious to you. if you weren't wet enough earlier, seeing the massive wet patch on his grey boxers leaves your own underwear soaked. is he this aroused because of you?
seungcheol seems to read your mind as he brings your face towards his own, whispering with hot breath, "do you see what you do to me, princess? got me wrecked and ruined." his confession is so raw, you lean in to kiss him again. as you do, your hand wraps around his clothed dick, and he groans into your mouth. "fuck fuck fuck," he curses as you begin to rub it softly. "i'm going to cum right now if you do that- babe, p-please!" he finally gets your hand off his dick, eyes large.
and then you giggle. something about seeing seungcheol so desperate triggers something off in you, makes you more determined to ruin him. so you pull off his boxers and take his erect, red cock straight into your mouth. seungcheol's body trembles with surprise, your name leaving his mouth in broken moans as he cannot take the pleasure of your mouth sucking him off in an excruciatingly slow speed. and you don't stop, even when his hand comes around the nape of your neck to keep you in place, even when you feel his entire body tense up with the imminent orgasm. you don't stop until he comes inside your mouth, spewing string after string of his hot seed, and you swallow it all. his breathing is laboured as he watches you lick off the last bits of the orgasm from his dick.
but your self-satisfaction of having the upper hand only lasts for so long. seungcheol's competitive side kicks in soon and he quickly flips over to pin you under him on the bed, his teeth nibbling at your chest, leaving pretty hickeys all over.
"let me return the favour, darling."
you don't know what he means right then by return the favour, but never in your wildest dreams, did you think it would include seungcheol burying his face into your cunt, his nose rubbing against your clit as his tongue laps up your wetness.
"fuck! no- seungcheol- pl-please, cheol!"
"do you want me to stop?" he asks you, his face barely moving up inches from your pussy to look into your eyes.
you hesitate before answering, so he softly kisses your stomach. "tell me, princess."
"i've never done this before..."
"what? sex?"
"no. oral. like no one's ever gone down on me before..."
and seungcheol doesn't waste another minute. he uses his teeth to push aside your panties and inserts his tongue right into your sloppy cunt, and you scream out his name. he doesn't go slow, and you don't want him to go slow. he's showing you all the stars in the sky, so you grab onto his hair to move his head back to a particularly good spot, and he moans incoherently when you tug at his locks. and within minutes, you're reaching your high, your screams getting stuck in your throat as you close your eyes and arch your back off the bed.
thankfully, seungcheol gets his face out of your cunt and hovers over you to take in your writhing figure under the impact of the orgasm.
"so how was your first experience?" he asks you when you finally open your eyes and look at him, his lips smeared with your essence and his body.
"heavenly," you whisper, before pulling him into you, and kissing him again. you can get drunk on his kisses. he's leaving your lips abused and raw, but when he's spitting into your mouth, you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer, feeling the toughness of his back muscles shift under your touch. this position ends up making his cock graze against your clit, and you jerk in overstimulation. but you can feel how hard he's getting with the kissing and the way your hands are tugging his hair. the heavy length rests on your stomach, and seungcheol pulls away.
"need to be inside you now, princess." his words have this rawness to them- long gone is the smooth-talker lawyer choi seungcheol. it takes several moments for you to process that you've caused him to descend to this desperation.
"do you have a condom?" he asks you.
"hmm, i do." you point towards the dresser next to your bed, and he casually bends away to take it out from the dresser. you're getting more turned on by his easy flexibility, and as soon as he's got the condom rolled on to his dick, you pull him for kisses again.
"patience, baby," he laughs, as he pulls away again after kissing you, to nudge the tip of his dick on your folds. "nooo, need you now. need your lips." "did my kisses break you?" "i think so," your voice is a whisper and he leans in to kiss you again, a beautiful smile showing off his dimples.
and then he's slowly pushing inside you, making you whine out his name as you feel him stretch you. it's not an easy fit, but his kisses make the pain easier to bear. when a tear escapes your eyes, he asks you, his eyebrows furrowed in concern, "is it very painful?" "not very but it's been a while." he leaves kisses on your hairline. "i'll be gentle, princess."
you grip his locks tighter, pulling his face away to make eye contact.
"you better not dare, choi seungcheol."
something breaks in him. his hips begin to move faster, as he pushes your hands above your head, holding them as if handcuffed, and he's biting hickeys all over your neck. he's thrusting harder now, and your second-hand bed is already making noises. but it seems to arouse you more for some reason. something about him shaking everything around you and moulding you and everything about you to him makes you want him more.
you can't stop moaning his name, as he whispers into your ear, "i can feel how close you are baby. can feel your cunt clenching around me." "pl-please, cheol. need you more, please!" "more? faster?" you nod feverishly, and he pulls away, biting his bottom lip in concentration, one hand gripping the bed, and the other your leg around his waist, as he fucks into you.
you take in his full form, towering over you like adonis. beads of sweat falling down his pecs and his hair falling into his eyes. the sight is so beautiful that you cum right then, even as seungcheol fucks you through the orgasm.
you can feel that he's close, his dick twitching inside you, as he's making your eyes roll back. even after one orgasm, he keeps fucking you. "give me one more, baby. cum with me." and then he shifts one hand to rub your clit, and you moan under the additional touch. the last straw is when you clench around him so hard that he lets out a strangled moan and reaches his climax too. you can feel the condom become warmer, and you tremble all over as you cum again because of that sensation.
when your eyes open again, seungcheol's pulled out from you, but he sneakily lets in a finger in between your folds and licks it clean.
"seungcheol?" your broken whisper makes him look up at you.
he smirks. "you taste like nectar, baby."
_
seungcheol's insomnia doesn't let him get a full night's sleep on most nights. if he's lucky, he'll sleep for four hours at once, dreamless rest that leaves him fully charged for the next day. on other days, he'll stare into the night sky for hours, sleep eluding him. some nights he'll go to his daughters' room, and watch them sleep, his heart filling up with a warmth that's comforting like chicken soup. on other nights, he'll open his laptop, put on his glasses and finish his case files.
everyone wonders how seungcheol is so efficient at his profession. only he knows why.
but ever since you've come into his life, everything's changed.
he can no longer focus on work. he's distracted, making silly typing errors and forgetting details. but he's sleeping the best ever in a long time. he doesn't remember when was the last time he'd slept this well. it must've been before the fights had started with his ex-wife.
today, seungcheol sleeps for eight hours straight.
and he knows why.
it's because he's wrapped around you, your body melting into his under the duvet. your head's resting on his arm, but his arm doesn't hurt at all. your hair shines with the sunlight streaming in through the gaps between the curtains, but you sleep through the slight pouring into your eyes. you look particularly angelic today morning, and he feels his entire being shiver with the new-found affection for you.
you're his.
finally.
well, hopefully.
jeonghan had told him yesterday when he'd told him about his feelings for you, you've not been turned down until you've been turned down. so shoot your shot.
and oh, he had shot his shot. shot it too fast in fact. the clarity of the morning makes him suddenly worry if going straight into your bed last night had been too quick and you'll think poorly of him now. then there's the worry about you going to sleep without eating dinner last night- what if you wake up angry? another worry crops in his head as he realises it's a saturday. he doesn't have to go to work today, but you might have to. what if you get upset at him for not waking you up on time? the warm, glorious light in seungcheol's heart dims slightly as he realises you have so many reasons to turn him down.
so he lightly shakes you, whispering your name in your ear, until he feels you whisper out a soft five minutes. it makes his heart melt again, but he's more worried about you missing a work day.
"wake up, princess, you're going to be late."
as if hearing a magic word, you jolt awake, staring right into his eyes.
"late?! what's the time? fuck, it's nine-thirty!"
"it's saturday though. do you have work today?"
and then you fall back on his arm with a huff.
"saturday! of course i don't have work today. why did you wake me up!" you whine and turn around so that you're now snuggled into seungcheol's bare chest, your hair only slightly tickling him. the warm light in his heart shines bright again as he feels you cling to him.
"i didn't know if you work on saturday or not." seungcheol leaves a kiss in your hair, and you let out a satisfied sigh.
"now you know. never forget, okay? never wake me up on weekends."
never forget.
"i won't." another kiss in your hair. another sigh that makes his chest buzz. another kiss. and then you open one eye to peer at him, and he smiles at your cuteness. so there's another kiss, and then another, and then-
"stop!" you move out of his arms, giggling, your eyes finally open.
"i can't. you're too cute."
"shhhh!" you lean in to kiss him on the mouth, a gentle peck, and seungcheol takes the opportunity to wrap you in his arms again. "don't go far away." he's more serious that his tone implies, but somehow you realise that too. so you snuggle in closer, your head almost on his chest now. "i won't."
after a few long minutes of you being still in his arms, and him smelling your scent through your hair, you finally shuffle and pull him down so that his head is now resting on the pillow and you're resting your head on your palm, perched on the pillow using your elbow as support, looking down at him with clear fondness in your eyes.
"you're very romantic today, mr choi."
"do you not like it?"
"no. on the contrary, i love it."
at your words, he smiles, and you let out a fake gasp. "the rabbit has dimples!" and you attack his face with kisses, leaving him giggly and blushing as you smother him with love.
when you're finally done, he pulls your face in for a kiss and then you go back to your position to look at him from above.
"come lie down next to me."
"no this view is prettier."
seungcheol scoffs, hiding the way his heart is racing with your words. it's been years since anything barely romantic- a few dates here and there. but this is teenage seungcheol again, falling head over heels for a girl with a pretty smile and a cute way of speaking her mind.
"this view is the prettiest," he says and he's rewarded with your pretty smile again. so he spends a minute staring at the view, taking in your beauty.
you've not been turned down until you've been turned down. so shoot your shot. somehow jeonghan's nagging voice comes up in his head again and makes him remember that he's yet to ask you properly.
so he counts to three and says it.
"i like you, y/n. a lot. as i told you last night."
a strawberry latte blush taints your cheeks.
"and as i told you last night, you're pretty much my dream man, seungcheol. i've been crushing on you since my freshman year."
well that was easy.
"that long?" seungcheol feels his confidence cruise back, a smirk on his lips.
"don't laugh at me."
"i'm not. it's just unbelievable that you liked me back then. i wasn't even well off back then."
"who even cares about that! you were confident, manly, intelligent and passionate about your work. and so, so handsome. how could anyone not like you?"
"am i not handsome now?"
"of course you are, silly. that's why i still like you." you roll your eyes, as if it's so obvious. "i couldn't even date guys for a long time because i kept comparing them to you in my mind."
seungcheol's eyes go wide. "wait, really? that's kinda sad."
you laugh. "maybe, but who cares? none of them were nice in the end. that's why i kept going back to crushing on you." you lean in to kiss the mole on his cheek.
"how long has it been since your last relationship?"
"hmmm, about seven months? broke up before i graduated."
"and sex?" he hopes you can't see the way he's holding back his breath as you answer. "about a year."
and then he lets out his breath.
"and you?" you ask him, running your fingers through his hair.
he hesitates before replying. "nine years," his voice is weak.
and then you do what he's been fearing for so long.
you laugh.
"wow. that's like... that is long." but your expression changes into a serious one soon. "but you haven't lost any of your technique yet. so it's a win in my books. i don't even have to be jealous of anyone else. who was your last lucky lady?"
"my ex-wife." seungcheol winces as he mentally prepares himself for all the reasons you might turn him down.
but you don't. your serious expression remains even as you're surprised. "you were married? is she the mother of sol and byul?"
"yeah."
you nod your head slowly, digesting the information. after a second you say, "i can't fathom why anyone would leave you and your two perfect little girls."
seungcheol's smile turns bitter. "she did. but it doesn't matter. she's found a better life now, after moving away to the US with her new husband. and i've found a better life too, moving away from her."
you nod again. "you're very brave, cheol." and you kiss his cheek again, and seungcheol's heart swells at how maturely you've handled this conversation. but there's yet more reasons for you to reject him.
when you pull away to look at him again, you softly ask him, "are your daughters okay with the idea of you dating again?" dating. there are tingles all over seungcheol's body as you finally quash all worries from his mind. "i haven't explicitly discussed this with them," he says with some hesitation. "that being said, i think they like you a lot. you made a very strong first impression. and trust me, for ten year olds as stubborn as mine, a first impression is all that matters."
"they're just like you," you giggle, your hand fondly cupping his cheek. "but seriously. they like me as a friend... as your colleague. what if they don't like me as your... girlfriend?"
girlfriend. seungcheol wants to flip you down on the bed and make love to you all over again, but he resists his urge. he settles for wrapping his hand around your hips and caressing them. "they'll love you, princess. they've longed for a mother figure for long enough." after a pause he says, "i'm worried they'll not see you as a mother figure but as a sister."
you burst out laughing. "what?!"
"i'm much older than you, y/n."
"so?"
"i'm thirty-six, y/n."
"that's not old. i'm twenty-three."
seungcheol chokes on his own words. "exactly. i'm literally old enough to be your father, y/n."
"well, you'd have to become a father really really early then," you say, laughing.
"y/n, be serious."
"i am being serious. i've met men who're twenty but act like they're forty. what really matters is what you've got here-" and you poke at his chest where his heart's supposed to be.
"i'm going to die thirteen years before you!"
"darling, i don't think that's how death works."
darling. seungcheol's heart hammers against his chest as he pulls you in for a deep kiss. and then you pull away from him. "you're a dilf, seungcheol. that's like 80% of why i'm attracted to you. bet i wouldn't be attracted to twenty-three year old you." there's a teasing glint in your eyes, but seungcheol still whines as he feels upset at your teasing words. "babyyyy!" you laugh at his deepening pout, and lean in to kiss his pout in a peck, before getting out of bed.
seungcheol's mouth falls open as he takes in your soft curves which look even more alluring in the daylight. something about the way your ass sways as you walk makes his dick twitch in interest, but seungcheol curses himself. he can't be thirty-six and this hormonal, for fucks' sake.
you open the closet door to pull out a loose t-shirt and shorts, wearing them without any underwear. "do you want to stay for breakfast?"
a lazy grin spreads on seungcheol's face as he stretches his body in bed, relishing the way you ogle his stretching biceps, and he casually pushes the blanket away from his hips to reveal his toned stomach to you too.
"i want to stay for the rest of my life, rookie."
he's left with no doubt of reciprocation of his feeling as he sees the blush on your face as you hide and run from him at his cheesy words.
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PROMPTS FOR THE GRUMPY VS SUNSHINE TROPE * assorted dialogue for that great dynamic between a guarded character and a warmer character, adjust as necessary
GRUMPY CHARACTER
do you ever stop smiling?
life sucks. get over it.
no one ever listens to me. at least, not until you showed up.
i didn't ask for your opinion.
there are more important things i should be dealing with.
i don't talk about my feelings with anyone.
that was a little uncalled for.
i didn't mean to talk your ear off.
i work better on my own.
what did you say to them to get them to listen?
i don't want to talk to you. in fact, i don't want to talk to anyone.
can you just leave me alone?
i never said i would help you.
you can't just talk your way out of problems.
everything was fine until you showed up.
now if you'll excuse me, i have better things to do.
what's so great about this place, anyway?
my opinion doesn't matter anyway.
i don't have time for "fun."
i just want to get this done and go home.
that's never been up to me to decide.
do you stick your head into everyone's business, or just mine?
if it's all the same to you, i'd prefer to be alone.
no one asked you to get involved.
i don't have a choice. it's my duty.
you're interrupting me again.
can we talk about this another time?
you've been listening to me talk for an hour now.
how do you stay so positive all the time?
i'm perfectly content just the way i am, thank you very much.
can't you see they're taking advantage of you?
SUNSHINE CHARACTER
i wish you would just listen to what i have to say.
i have to try and stay positive. it's the only way we get through this.
nothing good can come from constant negativity.
i believe in myself because no one else will.
i've seen what happens when the bad outweighs the good.
we just have to stay strong.
you never know what someone is going through.
i am capable of more than you give me credit for.
i don't think you're a bad person.
there's so much more to life than this.
you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.
have you tried being nice to them?
a compliment goes a long way.
i choose to be kind.
i just don't see the point in staying silent.
i'm just trying to look out for you.
there's no need to be rude.
we could work together as a team. did you ever think about that?
if you need my help, i'm here for you.
you should smile more often.
i wish you would just be yourself.
for what it's worth, i like who you are now.
we don't have to fight all the time.
being soft is not a weakness.
i want to make this work between us.
despite all that, i'm still here for you.
if you ever want to talk, i'm here to listen.
you're not as bad as you make yourself seem.
i've never seen you that way.
i've come to care about you.
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