#(I like to think even if he was set on being a lawyer for YEARS a small part of him wanted to take psychology. Being a broke college-

[thepollyjustice]

How do I apologize for being an utterly terrible scum of a Person that started a Scummy trend that I can't stop even after I tried to

“Well.. Apologizing can be difficult. You can’t control other people’s actions, and you shouldn’t take credibility for them.”

“There come a point where you have to just apologize for what you did and move on. Living with guilt.. isn’t healthy, and you have to forgive yourself too.”

[peachsayshi]

PEACH YOUR BABY DADDY!SUKUNA.....

He distanced himself bc he's not a good guy, he's got a shit job, can barely pay child support but he does what he can. And he always looks after your daughter when you're busy, takes every moment to be with her that he can, even tho he knows that you're the more capable parent. You were always too good for him, and he was your bad boy fling, your mistake.

"I think you love momma more." His daughter told him, bless her unfiltered thoughts. She was probably right. Somehow, after all this time, he still found you completely stunning. He felt guilty for the way he treated you, seeing you persevere and thrive as you've gotten older. If anything, you got more beautiful with each passing day, and he couldn't be happier that his child was being raised by you, even if that meant he had to be out of the picture.

"maybe I do." He chuckled, a tinge of regret to his words. He remembered the ways he hurt you, the look on your face when he made you cry. His selfishness. It was always his selfishness that got in the way. "But I'm not good at it."

// brutally soft // III. 

baby daddy!sukuna x reader 

tags: non curse au; tension; reader and sukuna are co-parents; girl dad sukuna; mentions troubled past with sukuna; alludes to significant size different; mentions drug use and drinking; mentions cheating; sukuna being soft; unrequited love; angsty | | read this for more context & this & this

note: (I am so sorry this took me so long to respond to) but!! you don't get to leave something like this and not expect me to sweetly return the favor by meddling with your feelings the way you did mine. because holy shit, nyx, just hearing sukuna say "I'm not good at it" in a hushed, sad voice made me want to take my own ribs out.

dni if your blog is blank / ageless / or are a minor

"mama! guess what!" your daughter says. "I have a secret!"

you smile to yourself because she always has a secret to share these days. little, innocent things that capture her attention which seem worthy of keeping confidential.

"you know," you say as you help her into her dress. "you're not supposed to tell secrets when you have them..."

"but I tell you everything, mama!"

you lift her up in your arms, the weight of her body getting heavier by the day and reminding you of how fast she's growing.

sukuna is taking her to visit her uncle yuji, and she has been over the moon about it. you place her on the seat of her vanity, and proceed to fix her hair since sukuna will be arriving in twenty minutes, and you want to make sure that she's all set once her dad gets here. you giggle at her response, "okay, okay, what's the secret?"

she looks at you from the mirror's reflection and covers her mouth as she chuckles.

"hey, what's with the sly face?" you prod, holding a chunk of her hair gently between your palm.

"do you know ms. kiko?" she asks, referring to her pre-school teacher.

"mhmm, what about her?"

she giggles again. "well, she told told mrs. chiyo that she thinks daddy is cute!!"

your heart thumps. oddly.

you're not immune to the way that the women look at the father of your child. it's the same alluring, seductive energy that drew you to sukuna in the first place.

but it's been years since you've both been intimate together in any capacity, you're sure that he's probably got someone on call if and when necessary. considering he has more spare time than you do without a child running around, you're pretty sure that sukuna is satisfied with whatever situationship he's in. you've learned to swallow the discomfort of the idea of sukuna with other women. just like how you had to bury the hurt of the very one who tore your relationship apart.

you hum at her observation, your fingers idly braiding her hair.

it's not like you were single anymore either. you've been casually dating a lawyer on and off. it wasn't serious per se, but it wasn't a fleeting relationship where it made you feel like you were entirely free of the attachment.

he's even met sukuna at this point.

granted those dates are few and far between, but you were a single mother who worked full time.

trying to commit to a relationship is hard.

even though, you would love to share all this with...someone.

"anyway, I had to warn daddy to be careful..." your daughter interjects.

"warn him?" you repeat with a smile, her choice of words adorable.

"yeah! so, I told daddy that ms. kiko was in love with him, and asked him if I should tell her to stop..."

"stop?"

"being in love with him!" she responds with a grimace.

that makes you laugh. "and why would you do that, hmm?" you question gently for fun.

"because I know that daddy loves you more, mama!"

your heart thumps again, harder this time. so hard you feel it nearly knock the wind out of you. you clear your throat to ease the apprehension while your daughter kicks her legs with anticipation.

"and how would you know that?" "because," she insists, "daddy told me that he loves you more than anyone else in this world"

her words spill out of her, a glass of water that's been carelessly knocked over. you scrunch your brows as each word registers into your brain, soaking over your to do lists and mental checks.

"what?" you whisper as you stare at this little girl who has already carried on the conversation.

"after me, obviously," she presses - because no one can take her place when it comes to the love that you and sukuna both give her.

"wait-wait..." you say a little breathless, your hands suddenly trembling as you do your best to finish the job you started. "what did your daddy tell you? I didn't quite-"

"he said he loves you more than anyone else in the world..." she repeats, her focus on the rogue hair brush that sits at her small vanity. "so, yeah, that's why I asked daddy if I should tell ms. kiko to stop saying he's cute..."

"your...your daddy is just being silly..." you murmur, trying to underplay the statement. you slip the hairband around her second braid to secure the style in place.

impossible, you think. that's impossible.

so much time has passed between you both.

you buried that part of your past long ago.

left it and refused to look back-

"nu-uh. he said that I don't have to say anything to ms. kiko. that it's okay because he loves momma more, anyway. but daddy also told me once that he's not that good at it," she adds on, her fingers picking at the bristles of her bright purple brush, "whatever that means..."

"when did you and your daddy have this conversation..."

the realization hits her then, and she stares up at you before covering her mouth. "oops," she states, glancing from side to side, "I pinky promised daddy I wouldn't tell you that..."

before you can fish out anything else from her, she hops off her seat, her feet pattering away as she moves across the room towards her pile of plushies.

"who should I take with me?" she says loudly, brushing aside the fact that she said far more than she should. she stands with her hip jutted out and her finger pressed against her lips, her back facing you.

you have to lean against her closet to steady yourself. you do your best to rationalize sukuna's words, trying to decipher the pieces in this game of whispers.

your mind flashes to the horrid break up five and a half years ago. a memory that exists hazily in the back of your mind, to the moment of you standing in sukuna's dingy old apartment holding a lacy white bra between your fingers.

it was not yours.

"what is this?" you gasped, your breath straining as your chest rose and fell with unease. "what the fuck is this..."

it's the only time you've ever seen sukuna panicked.

your memory only captures his words in blurs.

of him drinking too much.

way too much.

of him not waking up alone but swearing that he thought he was was you.

of him not recollecting his own thoughts because he blacked out that night.

of him being just as shocked when he realized the warm body next to him was not his girlfriend.

he begged you to forgive him.

"Baby, I swear. I fucking swear I will clean up my act. I-I'll never fucking drink again. Fuck, I went too far last night. One of the guys was passing around these pills I shouldn't have fucked around with them..."

you couldn't.

you couldn't accept any of it.

you already tolerated so much with him.

the drinking, the recreational drug use, his inability to keep a job, and him nearly ending up in jail for causing fights.

but you saw so much more in that man - and yet, he proved you wrong.

this betrayal spoke volumes.

this betrayal proved to you that you were expendable to him too.

that you just weren't that important.

that shadow of that man doesn't exist anymore. not with this new version of sukuna in your life.

he almost makes you forget the past. this man; your daughter's sunlight. her knight in shining armor. the source of her joy.

he may not have been good at loving you, but that little girl has him in the palm of her hand.

and he loves her with all his might, it feels like his absolution.

"mama?" your daughter calls out, snapping you out of your thoughts.

she's standing right in front of you now, holding a rabbit plushie in one hand and a penguin in the other.

"can I take both?" she asks innocently, her wide eyes glittering brightly as she remains oblivious to your own personal drowning.

"n-no," you stammer out, and affectionately poke the small dimple in her cheek. "just one, my love. we all know your uncle yuji will have more for you when you see him..."

her eyes widen, "that's right!" she exclaims, "he always finds the best and softest ones!"

the bell rings, and you abruptly stand on your feet.

your throat tight, your stomach fluttering.

"daddy's here!" your daughter cheers, and instantly runs out of the room.

you pick up her weekend bag and sling it over your shoulder. you pause and exhale softly, telling yourself to relax before following in her footsteps.

sukuna's deep voice greets you first.

"look at these braids on you..."

you find them both at the foyer, your daughter already scooped up in her father's big, muscular arms. his hand is tugging at one of her braids and she's smiling wildly in his direction.

he's wearing an oversized leather jacket, the fit only bulking up his stature. your daughter is gripping his black tee between her hands, and she yanks it gently before asking: "can we go now?"

sukuna smiles and your spine shivers.

age has done wonders for him too.

"easy, princess, let me say hi to your mom first..."

your fingers grip onto the strap of her weekender bag nervously. you don't know why you suddenly feel very aware of how you look.

of the fact that you're completely barefaced and running on five hours of sleep. that your choice in clothes is a pair of unflattering sweats and hoodie which has some coffee stains on it. you desperately need to wash your hair, and are due for a manicure appointment.

sukuna turns to face you, "hey you, I didn't notice you standing there..."

you clear your throat again, "hi! sorry...I uh-I didn't want to interrupt..."

sukuna adjusts the hold on your daughter, allowing you to approach him as he couldn't take off his boots.

"she all ready for me?" he asks.

"mhmm" you answer quietly, at a complete loss for words because all you can hear is "daddy said he loves you more than anyone else in the world."

you hand off the bag to him, which he takes with ease.

"it's not too late to join us," he offers, but you give him a small smile and shrug of your shoulders.

"trapped with work unfortunately,"

sukuna glances in your daughters direction, "I tried..."

she pouts your way. "you sure, mama?"

"yeah, my love, I am sure."

you slide into sukuna's frame, doing your best to carefully not touch any part of his broad canvas. you stand up on your tip toes and place multiple kisses on your daughter's cheek.

"I love you and I am going to miss you like crazy these next two days," you state sweetly, feeling her wrap her arms around your neck to give you a hug and a kiss in return. "promise me you'll be on your best behavior..."

"I promise!!" she answers.

you find the courage to meet sukuna's soft eyes, the ease on his face doing nothing to help your shattering state.

"I guess you're both set then," you say with a sigh.

he furrows his brow at your tone, and leans forward to make direct eye contact toward you. your lips part slightly at the close proximity of his face with yours, and he tilts his head like a curious cat before asking: "you okay?"

your heat burns so naturally. your heart ready to climb it's way up your throat. you blink back in surprise at his question, and stutter out a "I-I'm fine..."

"you sure?" he presses as he casually stands upright again, like he didn't just pop the bubble of your personal space. "you seem a little off..."

"I am okay," you reassure with a firm nod, before dropping your gaze down at your feet as you shift your balance. "I-I just have a lot on my mind today is all..."

there is a gentle tap just underneath your chin, your attention lifts up to look back at sukuna. his expression is stoic, but you can see the concern in his tense jaw. he taps the space just beneath your bottom lip, your insides turning at the gesture he used to do to you countless times before.

"anything I need to be worried about?" he asks calmly, his choice of words a veil over his obvious unsettlement.

you feel like you really can't breathe then.

your mind spins to when you carelessly kissed him. to when he returned the gesture at your daughter's play.

what seemed so innocent now feels like a serious overstep.

your hand circles around his wrist and you pull him away from you. "I'm fine, Ryomen," you acknowledge politely, trying to keep your words detached but kind.

after you see them both off and shut the front door, you find yourself pressed against the wooden frame. your back weakly glides down the surface until you're sitting on the floor. you bring your knees close to your chest, shaking at the prospect not because you don't want it to be true, but because you are terrified of allowing yourself to even open your heart to sukuna again.

he broke you. he hurt you. and yet, he somehow was the only thing that healed those wounds.

he is the reason why you were able to bring your daughter into this world. he treated her with immense love and supported you in every capacity to build this imperfect little family with you.

ryomen sukuna - your dark angel. the source of your deepest pain, and the reason for your happiest joy.

the wall that you've kept between you and sukuna exists as a safety barrier. you can peek over whenever necessary, but it doesn't mean you ever have to cross that boundary.

and yet, you've caught yourself with the consideration of sitting on the ledge, or maybe even stepping onto the other side.

all it takes for you is to then see the cracks and damages of the past as a reminder of what keeps stopping you.

"get a grip of yourself" you mutter out loud.

you let go of that love. you remind yourself, and you both are better for it.

sukuna is a completely different individual now, and you are in a much happier place than you were before.

the whirlwind romance, the intense passion and addictive excitement fizzled. the sparkle having faded the moment his betrayal was revealed.

maybe your love for each other is just too destructive when intertwined so closely. but existing loosely as small strings, and tethered to the singular entity that lives and breathes because of it...

maybe that should be more than enough for you both.

and you don't know why the thought breaks your heart a little.

[wqnwoos]

You were once deeply and irrevocably in love with Kwon Soonyoung, and it’s incredibly hard to avoid that fact when he works literally two offices down from you. It’s even harder to avoid when you’re stuck in a broken elevator with him for hours, and he seems determined to dissect everything that went wrong three years ago.

as part of the don’t hate, litigate! collab hosted by the wonderful @haologram

⇢ pairing: kwon soonyoung x f!reader

⇢ genre: angst, fluff, exes!au, lawyer!au

⇢ wc: 5.6k

⇢ warnings: minor alcohol consumption, lots of flashbacks

⇢ a/n: early happy new year!! this is my gift to u all <3 thank u to @haologram for hosting this collab and for just being alive. and thank you SOO much to ally @lovetaroandtaemin and em @gyuswhore for beta'ing i appreciate u both endlessly 💗

SOMETIMES IT TRULY feels like God, or the stars in your skies, or whatever the hell is controlling your fate down on this measly earth, hates you.

Sometimes it truly feels like this indefinite being is determined to deal you the worst set of cards, and this – this trumps all. Being stuck in an elevator with your ex-boyfriend sounds like the beginning of a shitty romcom, except it’s not. It’s your life, and it’s been your life for the past eight minutes, since the metal box you stepped in ground to a creaky, noisy halt halfway between the sixth and seventh floor. 

And it takes eight minutes before Soonyoung sighs resignedly. “Are you just going to ignore me forever?” 

Forever, you think, is your least favourite word. There were a lot of things you thought you’d have forever, and one of them is standing right next to you.

You swallow thickly. Your reply comes measured and clipped. “For as long as possible.”

When he speaks next, you can hear the attempt at a forced smile in his tone. “Well, you kinda just failed.”

You stay silent. If anyone had told you five years ago that Kwon Soonyoung would be begging to talk to you and you’d be ignoring him, you would have called them crazy; and yet, here you are. Ignoring him like your sanity depends on it, because actually, it does. So for the past eight minutes – nine now, but who’s counting? – you’ve barely spoken a word. You’re both stuck; the recovery team can’t make it for two hours at least; and God hates you, basically.

Soonyoung’s trying to make the most of it, and you’re not letting him.

He says your name, ever so softly. “Really, though. How – how have you been?”

It’s weird, going from years of no contact to working together. It’s been a year since Soonyoung joined your company, but it hasn’t become any easier. Not when he’s such an open book, so fucking easy for you to read. Every time you cross paths, he gets this look in his eyes – sad puppy, you’ve nicknamed it. Now is no different.

“I’ve been okay,” you say finally, stiltedly. You’ve never been able to resist that face, and you’re pretty sure he knows it too. “What about you?”

The silence is painful, but the way he says fine stings a little bit more. You know when he’s lying, and he never used to do that to you.

“So…” He shifts his weight awkwardly, huffing out an uncomfortable laugh as he gazes intently at his shoes. “This is weird, right?”

You match him with an equally uncomfortable smile. “The weirdest.”

“Our longest conversation after forever,” he says. “But I wasn’t expecting it to go like this.”

You cock your head to the side, fixing him with a questioning gaze. All hopes of ignoring him are sailing out the hypothetical window. “How were you expecting it to go?”

Soonyoung looks up at you with one of those embarrassed, endearing smiles. “Better.”

There’s a pregnant pause, and then – “You know, Jeonghan calls you the one that got away.” 

He’s always had a habit of dropping things like that on you; things that leave you a little winded.

“That makes it sound like I escaped,” you say, with an ease you don’t feel.

Clearly, Soonyoung doesn’t feel it either — he exhales heavily. “Maybe you did. Escape, I mean.”

You snap your head towards him, eyes almost owlish in your surprise; “You’re not serious.” When he doesn’t say anything, you continue haphazardly, “Soonyoung, that’s not — there wasn’t anything to escape from.” 

Your ex-boyfriend looks miserable. Avoids eye contact, staring fixedly at his shoes with a dejected expression he can’t properly disguise; even throughout the three years of your relationship, you rarely saw him like this. He looks…

Heartbroken, your mind suggests.

“I’m serious,” you insist again, pushing the thought out of your mind. “You weren’t a bad boyfriend, Soonyoung.”

He snorts then. “Okay, we both know that isn’t true.”

“It is!” 

“If we had, like, a counter of who fucked up however many times, I would leave you in the dust.”

You don’t know how to tell him this might even be half of it. This weird pedestal he puts you on – it’s not even guilt-tripping. You’ve seen that, but never from him; Soonyoung just truly, sincerely feels bad. Whenever you look back on your relationship, which is more often than you’d care to admit, it’s plain as day. He truly, sincerely feels that he has never deserved you. Like you’re something out of this world, out of his world. 

“Wow.” Soonyoung huffs out the one word, and it’s half a laugh, half admiration. “You are so out of my league.”

“Stop,” you whine, pushing his shoulder lightly. “Don’t say stupid things like that.”

“Well, not everyone gets to date the prettiest girl in law school,” he retorts quickly, lifting his brows. “Not sure why I of all people get to, but thank you.”

“Stop it,” you repeat, rolling your eyes and fixing the tie he’s wearing. “You’re gorgeous and you know it. You should know it, at least.”

“Not just that!” he protests quickly. “I just mean… you’re so smart. And good. And kind, and funny, and — ”

“Ah, yes! Of course, Kwon Soonyoung, known famously for being mean and horrible and extremely unfunny,” you say sarcastically, before tugging his tie and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “I choose my league, and you’re the only one in it.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” he murmurs, slightly breathless.

“Oh, shut up and kiss me.”

There were a lot of things that went wrong with you and Soonyoung. You’d started off wonderful: both of you bright, flaming, drawn to each other like magnets. You managed the stresses of law school, graduated together, and lined up jobs – jobs that were miles and miles from each other.`

There were lots of things that went wrong with you and Soonyoung, but if you had to pick one, it would be long distance.

“When did we stop trying?”

The question makes you snort. “What, you want a date and a time?”

Soonyoung smiles ruefully, but there’s nothing happy about it. It’s more of a painful grimace. That’s always been the way with you both: you deflect, he feels. He doesn’t hide the way you do, not from anyone. And for a few years, he was the only one who you didn’t hide from. 

Maybe that’s what has you opening your mouth again. “I could probably give you one. A date, I mean.”

Soonyoung hugs his knees to his chest, eyes searching your face. You can read him so well it physically makes you ache. The hint of uncertainty in his eyes, the twitching of his fingers – he’s nervous. He’s torn between wanting to know what you have to say and the strong sneaking premonition that it might hurt. “Go on,” he says finally, just as you knew he would. 

Honestly, you don’t have an exact date. Things fell apart slowly, and then all at once. A toppling tower – leaning, leaning, leaning, until it crashed. 

“There were probably a few things,” you say, softly. “My birthday, for a start.”

He winces reflexively. “That…” he begins, and then breathes out, shutting his eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make up for that.”

“I mean, in the end, it wasn’t that big of a deal.” You’re not sure why you’re trying to reassure him, even if it's true. You forgave him almost immediately.

“Shit.” 

Soonyoung’s first eloquent word when he walks into the apartment only means you become sure of what you already suspected. He takes in the half-eaten cake on the table, candles blown out and tossed to the side, the scraps of wrapping paper littering the floor, the cards; you take in his face. And you know, as quick and as simple as that – he forgot. 

Some small part of you had been holding a sneaking hope that maybe this was just an elaborate attempt at a surprise. You’d told him once, months and months ago, that you didn’t think ignoring people on their birthday to surprise them later was a very nice thing to do. But you’d rather he forgot that than your entire birthday.

His eyes meet yours, both of you frozen to your places. Him at the doorway, you at the table. The distance between you isn’t more than a few metres, but suddenly it feels like an engulfing abyss. Still, even from the other side, you can feel the guilt pouring out of him. 

“Shit,” he says again, before rushing his words out. “Shit, baby, I’m so sorry.”

You haven’t cried all day. You haven’t let yourself, but this has your eyes brimming over before you can control it.

“I’m going to bed,” you say finally, hugging yourself tightly, making yourself smaller. The apartment is warm, but you suddenly feel freezing. And despite your best efforts, there’s a waver in your voice, verging on a crack. “I’m tired.” 

You glance over the remains of your birthday party, one that you plastered a fake, painful smile on the whole way through, and then you turn to leave. 

“Baby, wait,” he implores quickly, and takes a step towards you — you mirror it immediately with a step back, and it makes him pause, his expression falling even further. “Baby.”

“You’re not allowed to call me that.” Your voice is obviously shaking now. “Not today. Maybe — maybe tomorrow.”

Maybe tomorrow you’ll be able to hear his excuses, his promises, but today, you’re allowed to be upset. You’ll let yourself have today, at the very least.

He’d driven hours to see you that day, but he’d still forgotten why he was there. You hadn’t really celebrated your birthday before you met him. Soonyoung was the one who made it a big deal, back when you first started dating, and even now, there’s a sharp pang in your chest when you remember how hurt you were that day.

“You made up for it tenfold,” you remind him now, because it’s true. He made the rest of the week practically a utopia, once you banned him from apologising. And he’d been so busy at work, so incredibly tired the whole month before, and you could understand. Both that he upset you, and that it was an innocent mistake. And you’ve never seen more sincere apologies than those that came from Soonyoung.

He looks grim, shakes his head, but doesn’t say any more. Probably because you’ve had this conversation a few times already, both of you too stubborn to give in. 

“Keep going,” he says, then, looking at you head on. “What else?”

All of a sudden, you don’t want to talk about what else. All of a sudden, you’re annoyed with him, his stupid face, this stupid elevator. “Do we have to do this?” Your voice has switched from somewhat reassuring to harsh – for want of a better word, angry. It makes his brown eyes a little round with surprise, his mouth parting a little.

“What?”

“What else and what if have been on my mind for three years, Soonyoung,” you say acidly. “Forgive me if I don’t really want to talk about it to your face.”

Again, his mouth opens a little bit, stays open as he tries to form words. Until he gives up, seals his lips and nods. “Alright. Okay. That’s fine.”

“I know it’s fine!” you cry out, only more angry that he won’t argue back. You’re lawyers, it’s what you do. And just to be petty, you add — “Besides, I bet your girlfriend wouldn’t be happy about this anyway.”

Finally, his passive poker face drops, and he looks a little confused. “My what?”

Immediately, you regret opening your mouth, but it’s too late to back down. “Your girlfriend. You know, that girl from accounting.”

“The girl fr— You mean Rachel?” Soonyoung gapes at you, and something in you bridles, until he continues. “Mrs Choi, who's married to her wife and adopting a kid next year?”

Well, now you feel stupid as fuck.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he continues, and if you weren’t afraid to look at him right now, you’d swear he was hiding a smirk.

“Whatever. I don’t care. Why are we even talking about this?” you snap, irritated and embarrassed.

He still sounds smug. “You brought it up.”

“You sit with her every lunch hour,” you mutter, heat creeping up your neck. “I just assumed.”

“Well, there’s nothing there. So don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried! I don’t care who you date, Soonyoung!”

He looks a little taken aback, blinking once or twice, cockiness gone without a trace. “Wow,” he says, finally. If you didn’t know him as well as you did, you wouldn’t notice the slight tremble in his voice. “That’s the first time you’ve said my name since — ”

He cuts himself off, but you complete the sentence in your head — three years ago. Three years since you packed up and walked out of his life. It feels like a decade ago; it feels like last week. You’d been so sure that you wouldn’t see his face again after that, that it was a decided end of a full four years of your life. Until last year, when he’d waltzed straight back into your life, this time at your workplace.

“This is the new hire.” Your boss is speaking, but you’re still finishing up the last sentence on the document you’re working on, and you listen absently as he fires a couple instructions — “Jeon, you’ll show him around. Filing system, get him logged on, the works.”

You look up then, to cast Wonwoo a knowing smile, because he always gets lumped with showing around the newbies, but halfway to making eye contact with your friend, you catch the familiar tilt of a jaw, the soft lines of a nose you know so well.

You’ve seen Soonyoung in a hundred people since you left him. You’re always looking over your shoulder at the bus stop, at the grocery store, at the library, finding a tiny piece of him in everyone and everything, a tiny piece that lodges itself tight and sharp into your throat until you take a second look, until you see unfamiliar eyes or too dark hair or shorter legs. Until you find something to make you swallow, exhale, and keep walking.

Now, your second look doesn’t yield anything unfamiliar. Except maybe his hair, gone from blonde to black, but everything else — everything else. It’s him, and he looks just as shocked to see you as you are to see him. There’s a heavy moment that seems only heavy to the two of you, everyone else still talking, the boss still giving instructions, but you and Soonyoung are looking at each other, dumbfounded, and all you can think about is the distinct taste of bile in your throat and the tie he’s wearing is the one you got him for his birthday.

Your initial plan is to avoid him. He foils that plan within two hours, cornering you in the break room, whispering urgently, “I had no idea you worked here, I swear I’m not, like, following you or – ”

The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind, and you just pin him with a blank stare. 

“I could quit.”

You’re shaking your head before he can even finish the sentence. “I’m not so butthurt that I can’t be a professional.”

“Right,” Soonyoung nods, breathing out a little. His lips are chapped. He never used to wear lip balm, just used to borrow yours. You hate yourself a little for remembering that.

The memory almost makes your lips twist with an sardonic smile. “I was so pissed when you showed up here.”

You can see his half smile, rueful and charming, through your peripheral vision. “I felt so bad about it, you know. But you just seemed annoyed when I saw you in the break room, so I figured you weren’t… mad or upset or anything.”

“I went straight from the break room to cry in the bathroom for fifteen minutes,” you admit truthfully. “I had to tell Wonwoo I had curry for breakfast.”

“You cried?”

You scowl. “I’m not saying it to be pitied, Soonyoung. I’m just saying, I’m not, like, some heartless jerk with no feelings. Of course I was upset.”

“I know that,” he says quickly, vehemently. “Of course I know that.” He hesitates, and then continues, words practically inching out of him. “It’s not really my place to ask, but… you and Wonwoo… are you guys…?”

“You’re right,” you say, and press your cheek onto your knees to fix him with your eyes. “It’s not your business. But that’d be hypocritical of me, so… no. No, we’re just friends. I’m friends with his girlfriend too, Cam, she works at the plant shop down the road.”

Soonyoung tilts his head back, lets out one of those breathy laughs that aren’t really laughs. “It’s so weird that you have new friends now.”

“Thanks,” you say, dripping with sarcasm.

“Not like that! I just mean I’m so used to – like, it used to be our friends, you know what I mean?”

“Not since three years ago,” you say with false lightness, because when you lost Soonyoung, you lost the friends he brought you too. You catch the glint of pity in his eyes again, and scoff. “It’s not a big deal. They were your friends first.”

Frowning, he speaks again. “First doesn’t matter. It didn’t matter to them either. Seungkwan said you were the one who stopped answering their calls.”

It’s true, and the feeling still burns a little, because Seungkwan and Jeonghan had called so many times. Even Vernon called a couple times, and you weren’t even that close to him, but Soonyoung has always attracted good people. Like calls to like. Maybe that’s why you ended up leaving.

“I was trying to make it easier,” you say bluntly., “for them to choose you.”

Your ex-boyfriend clicks his tongue, rakes a hand through his dark hair. “It’s not about sides, ___, for fuck’s sake.”

“Well, it felt like it at the time, alright?” Your words come out louder than you mean them to, and you pause, trying to quell your defensiveness. 

Soonyoung raises his hands in half-hearted surrender. “Alright. Alright.”

Something in your stomach feels acidic. Leaning your head back against the cool wall of the elevator, you manage to meet his eyes apologetically. “How – how are they, though? Seungkwan and everyone?”

Graciously, he ignores your quick show of temper. “They’re good. Seungkwan’s working freelance photography now. Jeonghan still hates his job, but keeps getting promoted anyway.”

Jeonghan. You told him you thought you were going to break up before you even told Soonyoung. You wonder if he remembers it, because that night is seared into your memory – New Year’s Eve, three years ago.

You’re much drunker than you ever intended to be when you finally find a place to sit in the cramped apartment, waved over by a sympathetic looking Jeonghan. He pats your head affectionately as you groan. 

“Feeling alright?”

“No,” you say elaborately.

Jeonghan never pries, which is probably what makes people tell him everything. He only raises his eyebrows at you, a hint of scepticism toying with his smile.

You look away, eyes drawn immediately to your boyfriend, laughing in the middle of the kitchen. Throwing his head back, squeezing his eyes shut, looking so fucking happy; when you see him like this, your heart always feels so incredibly warm and so incredibly full. 

Except today, there’s something else intertwining it, something similar to dread, and it causes the faint smile on your face to fade a little.

Jeonghan sees it, of course, and when you look back at him, his eyebrows only raise higher. 

You sink further into that horrible, looming feeling. “Jeonghan.”

“___.”

“I think I’m going to break up with him this year.”

If you didn’t know Jeonghan as well as you do, you’d think the information hadn’t affected him at all; his features remain completely impassive, but you catch the flash of surprise in his eyes. He stays quiet for a long time, the silence between you filled with thumping bass and indistinct conversation, until finally, he asks the only question there is to ask. “Why?”

It’s ridiculous, how one word can bring you to the verge of tears. But that one word holds so much weight – why would you break up with him? Why would you, when you’ve pictured a future with him a thousand times over? 

Why would you leave the best thing that ever happened to you?

You blink back the tears, and Jeonghan waits.

His voice is soft, but you still hear him under the din of the party. “Is this about your birthday?”

You shake your head quickly. “No.” You stop. “Maybe. It’s – there’s just – little stupid things.”

“Little things add up,” Jeonghan says gently. You hate how he’s already understanding.

“Sometimes – ” You swallow thickly. “Sometimes I just feel so far away from him.”

You don’t have to explain that you don’t mean physically. Because that’s part of it, but it’s not all of it, but without you saying that, Jeonghan knows. You barely notice when he takes your plastic red cup from your hands, setting it on the table next to him. “And I know he loves me, and he’d never hurt me on purpose, and – he’s been so good to me, Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan only hums, waits for you to continue. And you do, the alcohol only pushing more words out of your mouth. “The distance,” you say, “is killing us.” You rub furiously at your eyes. “No matter how hard we try, Jeonghan, it’s not working, and I feel like – I’m the only one who can see that. He’s ignoring it, but we can’t keep going like this.”

Jeonghan hesitates for a second, looking torn, more torn than you’ve ever seen him look. “Do you still love him?”

Tears blur your vision again, but don’t quite escape this time. “I don’t know how to stop.”

When you kiss Soonyoung after the countdown, your cheeks are wet.

“Long distance.”

“What?”

“You asked what else,” you say, picking at your nails. “I think it was the distance. I think that’s what – you know. Broke us up.”

Soonyoung has that look in his eyes, the one where he wants to argue but knows he’s going to lose, knows that you’re right. He breathes out, licks his lips and tries to speak. “We tried so hard.”

It’s not even a counter-argument. You agree with him, even. The two of you were brilliant at long distance, until you weren’t. Hours-long video calls, surprise weekend visits, staying over for the holidays, until it all started collapsing. Weekly movie nights kept getting postponed. Visits had to decrease in number. You were missing each other’s calls – if one of you wasn’t working late, the other always was. It was like the entire universe was working against you both, and suddenly, you felt like a burden rather than a lover, and Soonyoung would probably say the same. It’s hard not to feel that way, when you’re celebrating your anniversary over FaceTime and both of you keep dozing off while the other talks.

In a way, Soonyoung is right: you both tried so hard. In a way, he’s so wrong: neither of you tried hard enough.

Towards the end of it all, you were too tired to fight. Both of you were. The breakup was a quiet affair, mostly. You brought it up first, standing in the kitchen of Soonyoung’s apartment after realising you had no idea where he kept his cereal bowls.

“Soonyoung?”

“Babe, I told you, it’s the third cupboard from the left,” he calls, but he’s rounding the corner to his kitchen anyway. He stops in his tracks when he sees your face, smile fading, and for a second, time freezes.

“Soonyoung,” you say again, quieter.

And he knows. “Don’t,” he says, faintly, but there’s no weight behind it, because he knows.

Tears are already brimming your eyes, and you’re wrapping your arms around yourself, shaking your head. “I can’t,” you say, and you’re not sure what you mean. I can’t end it. I can’t keep going.

The picture before him is enough for Soonyoung, and any defence, any fight he still had in him (because he’s always been the more tenacious) drains. He gives in, same as you. 

“Okay,” he says, in a voice that’ll haunt you for years to come, a clashing harmony of gentle and damning. “Okay.”

You try to formulate words. You fail. All that you can say is “Soonyoung.” before you trail off. 

You don’t finish. He gives you a tired, forced smile, says something about, “We had a good run, didn’t we?”, but you’re too busy trying to wrench the tears back into your eyes to focus properly. Your efforts are in vain, of course, tears slipping down your cheeks hot and heavy, no matter how much you try to stop.

“I’m sorry,” you say tearfully, but he shakes his head.

“Don’t be sorry.”

After that, he only helps you load your bags into your car and says thank you when you give him the house keys. He does everything so quietly, so methodically, so defeatedly. It’s like he’s just lost a war he’s been fighting for far too long.

It turns out that in the end, four years can be reduced down to this: two cardboard boxes, three bin bags, and two broken hearts.

It’s your fault, in technical terms. You finished this. You’re the one who said the words, or almost said them, the one who spelled out what was so obviously ignored. More than once, because you’d tried this before, six months ago. Soonyoung was the one who fought back. He’d said no, of course, that first time. He’d said no with tears in his eyes, like it was a surprise to him, like he couldn’t see it the way you saw it — that you were on two very different paths. 

Soonyoung didn’t believe in following diverging paths, he believed in forcing yourself straight ahead hand-in-hand, come hell or high water. He believed in it, until he didn’t, and then he let you go.

When it’s time for you to leave, he accepts the hug you can’t help but fling on him just before you step in the car. Both of your arms around each other, fitting into place like you have a hundred times before, but so much tighter and so much briefer this time. Soonyoung clings to you like he’s never going to see you again, because he isn’t. You cling to him like this is the last time you’ll ever hug him, because it is.

And then both of you are pulling away, laughing awkwardly at the wet patch you’ve left on his shirt, and then you’re getting in your car and he’s waving you off and it’s over, just like that.

“It’s kind of ironic, isn’t it?” There’s an acerbic quality to Soonyoung’s laugh as he continues. “We broke up because of distance, and here we fucking are.”

There’s a metre and a half between you two.

“Maybe it was a dumb reason,” you say. Voicing the thought that’s tormented you since the day you drove away. Because maybe it was stupid. Maybe it was a temporary rough patch, and if you’d stayed, if you’d fought a little more and a little longer, you’d still have Soonyoung.

But you didn’t, and you don’t.

There’s a heavy expression on Soonyoung’s face, a strange mix of anger and confusion and guilt. “Maybe,” he says, at last. There’s the vaguest trace of bitterness, the little tiny sting that reminds you again that you’re the one who called it quits. 

“It felt like the weight of the world at the time,” you say ashamedly, squeezing your eyes shut for a second.

Soonyoung takes the chance and scoots closer to you, sitting against the wall with you, shoulder-to-shoulder. (How easy it would be to just rest your head there, as you’ve done a thousand times before.) “It can’t have been easy,” he says, patting your hand with his own. Warm and familiar in its unfamiliarity, which is when you realise you’ve misread him, for once – he’s not bitter. He’s empathetic.

“It wasn’t stupid,” Soonyoung continues softly, rubbing his eyes, “but God, I wish you’d just talked to me. Actually — I wish we’d talked to each other.”

“Yes, well,” you say dryly, wondering if he’s going to catch your reference, “I’ve always had a problem with communication.”

He catches it; it makes him pause, lift up his head, give you a tiny smile.

It takes you a minute to register that the seat across from you has been occupied. When you do look up, you realise Soonyoung’s mouth has been moving since he sat down, and you haven’t heard a word of it. Also, somewhere between the class you guys shared two days ago and his presence in the library this morning, his hair’s gone from a discreet dark brown to a particularly indiscreet blond.

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, taking out your earphones and setting down your pen. “What?”

“I said – do you have a problem with communication or something?” Despite the nature of his words, he’s practically beaming at you.

You blink at him, bewildered. “I mean… maybe? But — what?”

He holds up his phone. “Project,” he explains elaborately. “I’ve been texting, and I didn’t get a reply, and then I saw you over here, so I thought I’d ask.”

You frown, grabbing your phone. “I didn’t get any texts.”

Soonyoung mirrors your expression, tapping at his screen, and you’re struck by how much the blond suits him. As did the brown. As did the black he had a semester ago. Not that you’ve been keeping track, but it’s hard to not notice someone like Soonyoung. Even if the first time you talked to him was two days ago to organise the project you’ve been paired up for — you know him. Of him, at least.

He swivels his screen round to face you, showing you a contact with your name and what you quickly realise is almost your number. You smile a little awkwardly, tapping the last digit. “That’s meant to be a seven. You’ve got an eight.”

“Fuck,” he exhales, “that explains it. Who the hell have I been texting about litigation then?”

Something about his expression and his tone is so comical it makes you laugh, which surprises him a little – he glances up at you with a blatantly admiring smile, and he taps the edge of the desk. “Your eyes light up when you laugh, did you know?” And as quickly as he says it, he moves on, gesturing to your phone. “I’ll text you about the project, okay?”

He’s like a hurricane, and you’re trying your best to keep up. “Okay,” you agree confusedly, still hot-faced from the sudden compliment. “Yes. That’s — yes.”

As he gets up to leave again, he shoots you another one of those blinding, dazzling smiles, and sticks his hand out. “We’re friends now, right?”

His question sounds childishly sweet, and you can’t find it in yourself to do anything other than agree. 

Your one little reference sets you both off. You spend the next two hours talking and talking and talking, every other sentence beginning with “Remember when…”, as the two of you dredge up the long-buried memories of four long years spent together.

Soonyoung talks about the massive crush he had on you before you even got paired up for the project. You talk about how you never believed him, even when he did ask you out – it took three tries before you understood how serious he was. And then you remember the time Soonyoung sprinted from campus to his accommodation and back just to get you the calculator you forgot for your exam – and the time you both went to a frat party and ended up playing the most intense game of UNO in the bathroom with Vernon, which ended in a drunk Soonyoung trying to flush the cards down the toilet. 

He talks about the surprise party you threw for his birthday, and you talk about the time he tried to make you pancakes for National Girlfriend Day and failed horribly. You ate them anyway.

You don’t, however, talk about other things, even if you remember them. You remember Soonyoung kissing your forehead every morning he woke up next to you. You remember him buying your favourite flowers for your favourite vase every week. You remember coming home after a long day to food already delivered and paid for when he was working hours and hours away. You remember being so incredibly in love that it made you giddy and so in love it made you calm. And you don’t talk about it, just store it away somewhere as a reminder of what love is meant to feel like. If four years with Soonyoung brought you anything, it’s that: it taught you how to love and be loved.

When the recovery team finally arrives, you leave the elevator feeling like a new person. It doesn’t hurt when you look at Soonyoung anymore, there’s only a vague, warm fondness. And he can look you in the eye now, which he does. He smiles at you, sticks out his hand the same way he did all those years ago.

“We’re friends now, right?”

an / AHHH!!!!!! i know this fic is only like 5k but it took a lot out of me so i’d love to hear your thoughts. literally any thoughts. i wanted this fic to be longer but it happened this way and. what can i do. i may be the author but im NOT in control. it’s not a fic i’m 100% proud of but i think it’ll still hold a special place in my heart!!!! i love an angsty exes au.

anyway — this will be my last fic this year!!! see you all in 2025 and thank you so much for all the notes and all the reblogs and all the wonderful conversations this year i love you

perm taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @glowunderthemoon

@wondering-out-loud @tokitosun @hannyoontify @sahazzy

@dokyeomin @icyminghao @smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars

@immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts @astrozuya @doublasting

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[milkbobatyun]

des fleurs pour vous — some flowers for you

pairing: neuvillette x reader

genre: fluff

summary: with a little bit of help, maybe neuvillette can win your heart

word count: 812

a/n: first post of the new year! hope everything goes well for everyone this year :D just an fyi that i might be posting less this year cus i'm in my final year of school ( ˶°ㅁ°) !! (it's gone by so fast oml) and i need to prepare for the exams ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ )

neuvillette who doesn’t understand why he feels so nervous when he sees you. to this ancient dragon of old, he cannot fathom the reason why his mouth dries up and his palms become sweaty. every time he catches sight of you, the corners of his mouth twitch up involuntarily. butterflies brew a storm in his stomach as his heart dances erratically in his chest.

neuvillette who confides in the melusines about the foreign illness that has befallen him. in front of neuvillette, the melusines assure him, promising to do their best to cure him of this sickness that leaves his face burning and his ears flushed with red.

the moment his intimidating figure leaves the room, the melusines are huddling with their heads close together, whispering and brainstorming ideas.

“monseiur neuvillette has fallen in love!” menthe gasps dramatically, her tiny paws covering. the other melusines fawn over the notion, covering their mouths with their little paws, swooning over the fantasies their imagination has created. they’re overjoyed that the impartial iudex has found his other half, but without their help, this romance was heading nowhere.

after countless brainstorms and head whacks later, the melusines have a fool-proof plan. operation fleurs, they called it.

neuvillette who begins to think that he is losing his mind or getting too old for the job when he finds leaflets of local florist shops hidden between the legal files. when he’s pulling out books to consult, torn pages of various romance novels fall out, all citing love confessions, with one book on his desk even being swapped to “how to confess your love 101”.

neuvillette who after much coaxing from the melusines, decides to sit down at his desk, face impassive as he struggles to write a letter to convey his feelings. the melusines are ready to slam their heads on the table as they painfully watch the chief justice, who can hand down sanctions and orders without a moment of hesitation, is now terrified as he hopelessly stares at the blank pages, praying to the archons that he can express his feelings properly.

neuvillette who writes you such a formal letter stating that he wishes to meet you, that when you received it, you feared for the worst. as you stand beside the fontaine of lucine, anxiety gnaws at your stomach. did you do something wrong? were you about to lose your lawyer license? such thoughts chased each other in your mind, a silent mantra of your worst nightmares.

neuvillette who is so nervous about talking to you that he’s secretly mapping out 476 different escape routes and praying to the hydro archon that maybe today, at this exact moment, furina needs him for an urgent meeting.

your stomach drops when you see what could be described as neuvillette marching towards you, face set and stern, his arms held behind his back. somewhere in the back of your mind, your humour tries to throw light on the moment, silently commenting on how he looks like an old man eith his stance.

neuvillette, whose throat has dried up in fear and from the nerves that he has to awkwardly cough, but you’re so wound up by what is going on and end up jumping to conclusions, so you immediately begin bowing profusely and muttering apologies for some phantom mistake that you made.

neuvillette who gets so flustered he doesn't know what to respond and is reassuring you that you’re not in trouble. the melusines, who are very well hidden behind some bushes, are about to resort violence after hearing the both of you apologise to each other for the 500th time that day.

the melusines end up so frustrated with neuvillette’s lack of courage that they pop out from behind the bush and expose him to the whole of fontaine (there was only two other people there at the time)

a loud shout pierces through the tranquil barble of the fountain. 

“OH MY ARCHONS, HES SO STUPIDLY IN LOVE WITH YOU HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO FUNCTION WHEN HE SEES YOU!”

the outburst from the usually softly spoken and quiet melusines leaves the two of you in stunned silence. your face is one of confusion as you point to yourself, as though trying to confirm what your ears heard. 

when you look from the melusines to neuvillette to double check, scarlet red has coated his ears, warmth exploding over his face. hiding his face behind in embarrassment, neuvillette clears his throat before unveiling the bouquet of flowers he had hidden behind his back.

“well, it seems we started off with the wrong impressions, i sincerely wish that you forgive me for this. human emotion is…so difficult to grasp, but i believe this human tradition of giving flowers is meant to express… love? thus, i do hope that you may present me with the chance to court you?”

taglist (open): @leehanscorydora, @pastelmitzuki

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobayun 2025 / づ ♡

[simpxxstan]

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.

[thebestsetter]

Thinking about Bachira Meguru assuming he's unlovable.

Being called a monster for their whole childhood really makes a mark on a person's life and self-esteem. But for Bachira, it was unavoidable.

At first, he tried to ignore the mean comments and pretend he didn't hear them. Maybe that would make the loneliness go away. Maybe it would make the problems disappear.

"He's a freak!"

"Eww, don't get too close to Bachira! You'll get lice!!"

"He's stinky"

He heard the whispers. He just used to pretend he didn't. For both his and the children's sake. So he could pretend he was normal. At least for a while.

And, sometimes, even parents, grown-ass adults, called him weird. Shouldn't they set an example for their kids? They tell them: "Don't judge other people! You never know what they're going through!", but are always the first to talk shit about someone, even if said someone is a little kid.

"Poor kid. It's probably the parents' fault."

"He says he sees a 'monster'! He's probably schizophrenic."

"My son is afraid of him. Specially when he's playing soccer. He said he's very scary"

He tried to ignore them. He really did. He tried to smile through it all and treat people the same way he always had nevertheless: with respect. Because crying would make his problems real. He didn't want them to be real. And he was doing a good job at it! But one faithful day, he snapped. The final nail in the coffin.

"When I grow up, I want to be a football player, just like Zico!" 11 year old Bachira said, showing the whole class a drawing of him, Zico and his monster playing soccer together. His smile was as bright and blinding as ever, specially because he was talking about his passion: soccer. He loved it so much. It helped him escape the harsh reality for a while.

The class went silent. They used to think Bachira was weird, to put it slightly, but this? It just made him even more weird! They all knew that he could never be a football player. He was an outcast. A freak. He was a monster. And monsters couldn't live with humans. Nobody wanted a monster on their team.

And so, instead of clapping like they did with the other kids' drawings, the class started to laugh. It started out quiet, but later it turned into a full, loud laugh. All of them. And Bachira always dreamed of making everyone there laugh, but not like this. They weren't laughing with him or because of him, they were laughing at him.

"Uh? What's happening, miss?" He asked the teacher, confused and on the verge of crying. He couldn't cry here. Not in front of them, please. That would be another thing for them to laugh at.

He swears on his life that he heard the teacher laugh a little, before the adult crouched down to match his size, grabbed his drawing and put it on his desk, while the other kids' drawings were being stuck to the board with tape. And then, he heard one of the worst sentences he ever heard in his life. One that he knew would definitely keep him awake at night:

"Meguru, being a football player is too hard for you. Why don't you settle for something more real and reachable? Like a doctor or a lawyer?"

He didn't understand. Some kids here wanted to be astronauts, others wanted to be models. Hell, one wanted to be a dinosaur babysitter. And their drawings were hanging on the wall, like they were going to be achieved. Bachira felt like no one believed in him. Like he was being put aside.

He then realized the problem wasn't what he wanted to do. It was him. Anyone could be a football player, but he couldn't. Because he was a monster. He was different from others.

And so, the tears began to fall. One by one, first from his left away and then from his right eye. His vision began to blurry. Left eye, right eye. Left, right, left right. Kids laughing, teacher laughing. His drawing on the desk. Left, right. Left right. He couldn't even see his own hands anymore from how blurred his vision was. He looked to his side. Left, right. The door. His escape. He needed to leave.

So, without second thought, Bachira ran towards the door. He couldn't care less for the teacher calling his name. He wouldn't come looking for him anyway. Nobody would. Nobody cared enough to do it.

He sat behind a tree, protected by it's shadow. He continued to cry. Hard. He put his hands in his eyes to try and stop the tears from falling, but he couldn't. He needed to let it all out. He just wished he had someone by his side during his breakdown. He really wanted a shoulder to rely on.

"Hey"

Maybe he was, indeed, schizophrenic. Because, the moment he looked up, he saw a girl he swore was too pretty to be real. The sunset made her have an angelic glow, and the wind made her hair flow just the right way. Her face was like a greek statuate, and he swore he could hear a soothing symphony playing in the background when he met her eyes: they were the most beautiful color he had ever seen, and he could imagine himself being lost and found in them. She was just too pretty. Too pretty to be here for him. And so, he managed to stop crying for a while and said, between sniffs:

"Did you lose a bet?"

The way your face contorted was almost comic.

"What?"

"Did someone pay you to come here? Where are the cameras? And how much was it?"

"I didn't lose any bet" you said, frowning. "I came here to check on you because I wanted to. I don't get why everyone laughed at you. Your dream is not stupid. Nobody's dream is."

"Even Richard's? He said he wants to be a dinossaur nanny" he said before he even thought about it. He then widened his eyes, because what if you were Richard's friend? What if you hated him now because he said something bad about your friend? What if he already screwed everything up? What if...

"Okay, you win. That one's actually stupid." You laughed. He made you laugh. This time, someone was laughing because of him. He felt like he was capable of everything at that moment. Your laugh was a sweet, infecting, honey-like melody. It made him wanna laugh too. He didn't realize it, but he had already stopped crying, and was now just staring at you with big, blown and unwavering eyes. His mouth slightly parted, like he was studying you and comitting everything about you to memory. Almost as if you were indeed an ilusion, and would disappear the second he blinked. He couldn't believe you were real. You were real, and you were talking to him.

After a while, you stopped laughing and finally noticed his intense staring. Suddenly bashful, your cheeks turned a bright red.

"I-I just want you to know that you shouldn't be ashamed of your dream. I think- no, I'm sure you can achieve it. You just have to work hard for it. I-I've seen you playing sometimes, and it's honestly amazing how focused you are. Bachira, I want to be your friend. That's it, if you'll let me-"

He hugged you. Hard. If it was any other time, he would have been afraid of scaring you off with the sudden hug, but he couldn't care less right now. He needed this. He needed a friend. You were just what he needed. You were perfect.

He started to cry again. This time, the first tear came out of his right eye. Right, left. His vision was getting blurred from how hard he was smiling. Right, left. Right, left. Your arms hugging him back. Right, left. The sound of the school bell, signalizing the end of the school day. People would see you and him hugging and you would probably be called weird by them for being next to him, but you still didn't break the hug. Right, left.

He didn't want to escape like he did during the class incident. No. He wanted this moment to last forever. He wanted time to stop, to be in your arms for eternity. He didn't want to pull away. He finally made a friend. You were his first friend.

Bachira Meguru used to think he was unlovable, but you proved him wrong. You proved he could, in fact, be loved. He wasn't a monster. He wasn't a freak. He was Bachira Meguru. Your best friend. And he wore that title with pride. Later on, he had the honour to be called your boyfriend, and he was even prouder of that one.

He used to think he would never find happiness. That's why, the moment the ref blew the whistle signalizing the end of Japan U-20 against Blue Lock eleven match and securing Blue Lock's victory, he couldn't think of anything else besides his girl. He ran across the field to you. Because you were like a magnet. He couldn't be apart from you, or else it felt like the whole earth would explode. He was yours and you were his. You both were meant to be.

"You did it! I love you, Meguru!"

He laughed. A pretty, genuine laugh followed by a couple of tears, beginning from his right eye, of course. His mother was recording behind you both, the blue lock team was smirking and whistling at the sight of you two and the television was streaming the moment for the whole world to see. But neither of you cared about the extra eyes. You were the only ones on the world. You always made him feel like that, and he hopes he makes you feel that way, too.

"I love you so much. Thank you."

Thank you for being with me. Thank you for being there. Thank you for not leaving me. Thank you for accepting the title of being my girlfriend proudly. Thank you for being you. Thank you for everything. Thank you.

He then lifted you and spun you in the air, smiling hard. He brought your lips closer and then kissed you. A kiss full of emotion and love. So much love: raw and pure.

You proved he wasn't just lovable. He was also capable of loving. And there's nothing prettier than loving someone.

Bachira Meguru was lovable, and you made sure to show him that. You loved him, and he would do everything to keep it that way forever.

~A/N: there's a "saying" that says that if you're crying and the first tear is from the left eye, you're crying from sadness. If the first tear comes out of the right eye, they're happy tears!!

Masterlist

[winterzsurprise]

Change My Mind [2]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 8.6k

I posted this a day later than the one on ao3 because I forgor :''DD

Seeing the support and comments from both website got me off my ass to fix the storyline, even made a lot of changes on the chapters I've had preserved.

this chapter got rewritten a LOT, and was longer than it initially was so I hope y'all don't mind long chapters.

<<<Prev || MASTERLIST || Next>>>

__________

There's been times where your heart has truly fluttered for a man throughout your lifetime. Too many times has it been because some of your bosses (read: Jimin) flirted with you but you have never felt anything remotely giddy for anyone else outside the group.

Except for the man now sitting in front of you, flashing you a dimpled smile after handing out his card with an ease you only see in your friends and male leads in dramas. An action more attractive than any kabaedon or flexed muscles.

He's attractive but you don't like like him.

Yoo Guwon came to you as a bashful giant, rubbing the back of his head whenever he’s flustered and a constant sheepish smile featuring his deep set of dimples indented on both cheeks. He’s charming and articulate with his words just like a lawyer would be. Everything about him reminds you of another gentle and clumsy giant probably hunched over his music equipment back in the BigHit building.

It’s only been a few hours but you surprisingly covered most of the basic grounds of first meeting conversations during the short time you drove around Han River in a two seated bicycle. From the meager questions of ‘what dreams do you have?’ to the more complex and deeper ‘If the world falls into ruin, will you burn my body when I die?’. 

Too graphic for a first date but you wanted to test the waters and you concluded that he’s too perfect.

He knows the right words to say, the proper way to act and it makes you suspicious. Your mother has never recommended you to a good guy before, having a track record of ten shitty suitors who all ran their mouths about their mediocre achievements, and dared to ask you about your purity before ranting about how dirty you are for not saving yourself for your husband the moment they find out you're not a virgin anymore. Then all of a sudden, she led you to good boy Guwon.

And it makes your skin crawl.

What did that woman eat? Has your father fed her something bad this time? What is she planning? It’s scary how she has finally advocated for an actual nice guy.

After taking you to a museum you're sure Namjoon has visited once, he drove you both to the Han River to rent a double seated bike to drive around with before ending the night with a nice reservation somewhere in the Seocho district.

The place is as sophisticated as fine dining areas usually are. With an intimate lighting, marbled tabletops matched with soft cushioned seats and high ceilings to make space for modern glass chandeliers, the restaurant was no doubt expensive, the type you have to reserve a spot two months prior to be able to experience its greatness. The point was driven home when you saw the amount of zeros it cost for one can of soda. 

You asked him how he managed to get a table and he went down the rabbit hole of the many advantages he got from successful cases, ranging from a free monthly subscription to fruit baskets to a free week-long voucher to a five star hotel somewhere in Busan. 

Going back to the butterflies, while not as wild as it got when Hoseok possessively wrapped an arm thrown around your waist to pretend as your boyfriend to ward off a persistent suitor, they're there, albeit subtle.

Very subtle.

Maybe it's in the way he didn't think twice to hand out his card towards the waiter in the most suave way with the thick golden watch decorating his wrist, sleeves neatly folded up to reveal the thick cords of veins on his forearms with his hair strewn messily and a dimpled smile that made you react like that.

You ignore the voice comparing his uncannily similar traits to someone else.

Meeting Guwon wasn't like how the movies illustrated love at first sights. They talked of fireworks exploding in the background and hearing the sweet chimes of wedding bells upon eye contact but for him, it's just that. A meeting far more formal than you'd like. He has a lot of qualities that check your list of husband material traits yet instead of butterflies, you could only feel an echoing hollowness in your chest as you listen to him list out his future plans. 

It felt like surrendering to the fate the divinities had weaved out for you which is being an untethered forced to love someone you don't even feel any spark with.

He's a nice man who’s offering a comfortable future and you're just a woman who wishes to live a lavish life at home while your husband wastes his years away in the office. You might be a hopeless romantic who wished for soulmates and the like but you're not blind to the opportunity Guwon offers you.

You haven't texted the gc anything during the date other than the selfie you took before you left for the date but there's been constant vibrations in your purse and it's no doubt the guys asking for updates but for a moment you wanted to try to focus on the man before you.

Not that it wasn't hard to try with Guwon anyways.

Whenever the man spoke of his achievements and hobbies with a humble approach, he never forgot to ask you for your opinion or input on the topic. You also noted how he has never cut you off and let you speak whenever you wanted, listening with an eagerness only your friends usually show. He asked relevant questions with a genuine curiosity, eager to know more about you. 

So when he asked if you wanted to go on a second date that night, it came to no surprise for anyone when you accepted it albeit the heaviness in your heart.

It was funny how eagerly you searched for a husband you could bring to your parents' doorsteps but the moment someone with all the qualities you seeked came, it felt disappointing. Boring even.

But you can learn, this man is your ticket to living without working anymore.

It came to no one's surprise that your mother was overjoyed, she wasted no time calling you before you could even change to squeeze the memory of today out of you.

The shrill scream of victory she let out that night was unforgettable because finally, a suitor you actually liked. Your dad even congratulated her off-screen for her matchmaking achievements before telling you to bring Guwon home to meet them.

Logically, you’re aware you've won the love roulette—Guwon has it all, he checked every box on your list, yet it felt like defeat and it tasted foul, bitter on your tongue.

You couldn't tell them that it was you deciding to settle, that would break her heart.

Tapping the end call button felt like the dam breaking and all the water held onto for so long flowed out. You fall lifelessly on your bed with a heavy sigh. Taking a couple evening breaths, you finally opened the group chat with an overwhelming number of unread messages.

[Today, 08:49]

[08:49] Mimi: I'd run my bank dry to take you on dates if you'd dress so pretty like that, noona~

[08:49]Tete: We're really seeing this for free when the poor guy has to pay for it. #livingapriviledgedlife😁👍

[08:49] Hobi: Wow noona🤯

[08:50] Yoongs: 👍

[08:55] Tete: Wait, I don't think those shoes fit you, go back home and change it😁

[08:56] Jinnie: Hey, you're showing too much skin on the first date! Go back and change!

[08:57] Joonie: Ignore these haters noona, I hope you enjoy your day😊

[Today, 21:48]

[21:48] Jinnie: are you home yet? You haven't seen our messages in HOURS.

[21:48] Tete: NOONA DID YOU GET MURDERED?!😱

[21:50] Joonie: Let's be rational guys, don't jump to conclusions. The date might just be going great if she's busy enough to not check her phone😊.

[21:51] Mimi: doing great? don't scare me like that hyung😵‍💫

[21:51] Tete: BUT WHAT IF SHE GOT KIDNAPPED HYUNG????

[21:51] Hobi: please reply soon, we're worried🥲

Jungkook's absence from the conversation didn't come to you as a shock, the kid doesn't even reply to you for a week despite being one of the people who raised him. Nonetheless, you sat up from your bed to record a quick video of you giving them a thumbs up and turning the camera to show your room.

The latter was an assurance to Taehyung that no, you also didn't get kidnapped into someone else's house to be someone's housekeeper, and no, it wasn't a clone either.

The moment your message gets sent, the replies blow up your phone almost instantaneously.

[22:28] Mimi: noona you're alive!

[22:28] Joonie: How did the date go?😊

[22:28] Jinnie: how nice of you to remember to update us PEASANTS.

[22:28] Mimi: How was Guwon?

[22:29] Tete: I KNEW WE SHOULD'VE WENT WITH YOU ANYWAYS

[22:29] You: Shockingly, he's a pretty nice guy. Not too bad on the eyes, and pretty smart. I think you'd get along well with him, joon. He's a lawyer so he covered most of the expenses today😁

[22:29] You: Overall, it was great, we're gonna go on a second one. He's pretty cool.

Instantly, messages from the members, even Jungkook’s to your surprise, flooded your screen.

[22:30] Tete: Noona you've been cursed! We need to bring you to the nearest shaman to break it!!

[22:30] Mimi: don't joke with us noona

[22:30] Mimi: I just got goosebumps!

[22:30] Joonie: Congratulations are in order then? Will we be expecting him around you soon?

[22:31] Yoongs: I need to meet him, need to know if he's good enough

[22:31] Yoongs: men are trash, I need to see him for myself before I decide

[22:32] Yoongs: and you know what they say about lawyers, they LIE. I wouldn't trust him 

[22:32] Jinnie: WE need to meet the man who managed to steal your heart! I want to talk to him😊

[22:32] Mimi: don't use that emoji again, hyung

[22:32] Hobi: SCARY JWANN😱

[22:32] Joonie: Let’s not threaten anyone please.

[22:32] Joonie: But I'm really happy for you 😁.

[22:33] Tete: Those periods really scares me hyung…

[22:33] Tete: Somehow, I don't think you mean it…

[22:33] Joonie: What makes you think that, tae?😁.

[22:33] Tete: 😰

[22:34] Ggukie: a few drinks will fix you up, noona😁

[22:34]  Mimi: you'll invite me this time right?

[22:34] You: I don't know, you already used your mischief hours this week, I doubt Sejin would be so kind next time.

[22:34] Hobi: if he does that right now during practice, I also wouldn't be so kind to him😊

[22:34] Mimi: you are scaring me hyung…

[22:34] Hobi: good😊

[22:34] Tete: Hyung, are you just gonna ignore Jungkook leaving?!?!!?

The messages continued for a good five minutes, mostly consisting of holding Jimin back from leaving practice and him sending pictures of the infamous Hoseok death glare from across the room before your doorbell chime rang, making you shoot up straight.

A beat. Then it continues in three quick successions, the knocks almost in sing-song and sounded like two hands were used to produce the tune, giving you an inkling on who might be visiting you at this late hours of night.

Padding out of your room, the front door suddenly swings open without warning and you yelp. By the doorsteps stands the intruder, a tall man in a black coat with his face hidden by a mask and a cap. Your body would've frozen a thousand times over if you didn't know this stranger who's hugging two paper bags, one overflowing with snacks and the other a breeze away from tearing apart from the weight and water drenching the material of the bag.

"Hi noona!"

After today, seeing Jungkook felt like a cure, his presence alone repelling the heaviness in your shoulders and you ushered him inside and he wandered into your home with ease, approaching the coffee table to place down the shopping bags. 

Suddenly you remembered what he had scheduled prior.

"You're putting me on Hoba’s punishment rotation, what are you doing here?" 

He giggled. “We both know he won't, hyung loves you more than me.”

He falls on your couch with the ease of someone who has visited your space numerous times throughout the years, propping up his feet on the back support and folding his arms underneath his head before staring up at you, expectantly.

"Anyways, I brought us food and drinks, don't I deserve a little praise?" 

Sometimes it's easy to forget how young Jungkook really is, forced to grow and act mature to blend in with his surroundings, you've always seen him stand with pride alongside his hyungs. Seeing him awaiting for your praise so eagerly like a pup fills your heart with awe.

"Yeah yeah, good job. Now move over, let me sit down."

You tapped his arm, motioning him to move over so you could sit next to him, something he obeyed without resistance, busying himself in removing the contents from the soiled paper bag instead.

“Couldn't you have put some effort into it? At least sound grateful.” He pouts. Placing down the cluster of beer cans, you turned to him and pinched his cheeks.

“Oh my dearest darling, thank you for saving this noona of yours. Such an amazing baby I have here.”

Despite being the one who asked for it, Jungkook only rolled his eyes with a barely held back grin as he slapped your hands away, making you laugh, and turned to the bag holding the snacks he bought. You didn't miss the redness dusting his cheeks or the cheeky grin that tugged his lips wide as he spilled the contents of the last bag onto the table.

There's a significant amount of sweets and snacks laid before you, as well as stacks of canned beers and you turned to him with furrowed brows.

"Wouldn't this ruin your diet?"

He waved you off with a huff. "I work out enough to eat all of these in one sitting."

Instantly, your mind brings you back to white walls and gray furniture, faced with manager Sejin who warned you about interfering with the idols' diet at the start of your career. If it wasn't for Bang PD waving off their concerns, saying they needed to be rewarded for their hard work anyways, you would've been long booted out of the company.

It's a matter long settled yet it remains to weigh heavily in your head.

Seeing the hesitation in your eyes, Jungkook continues.

"I can show you proof of my efforts," 

He then reached down to the fabric of his shirt tucked into his jeans and tugged it up, flashing you the tightly corded muscles in forming on his abdomen and the thin happy trail you often see when patting his sweat down during concerts and you hastily pulled it back down with a yelp, cheeks growing hot while he laughed.

As he throws his head back in his mirth, you couldn't help but notice the way adulthood has taken away the fullness of his cheeks and has sharpened his features. A far cry from the sensitive young boy who cried his eyes out every time his hyungs got hurt. 

There was no denying that Jungkook had grown without you noticing and it makes your chest swell with pride knowing he's been raised well by the others, in extension, although not so much, you as well.

"Don't worry so much about me, noona. I can handle the consequences now, you leave the reprimanding to me."

Under the warm overhead light of your living room, even with the exaggerated puff of his chest and his nose turnt up high, Jungkook's shoulder had never looked sturdier, reliable, in your eyes. You smiled, reaching to pinch both his cheeks making him grin wider than he already was.

"Look at you acting so cool, when did you grow so much?"

He rolled his eyes, pulling your hands away from his cheeks and entangling it with his. “I've always been cool, you just don't pay attention to me, noona.”

Before you could reply, he's already moved to reach for the beverages on the coffee table, popping two of them open and handing you one can, immediately you take a swig.

The beer fizzled in your tongue and left a trail of burns down your throat. The sensation is refreshing nonetheless and you place it down next to him before picking up the large bags of chips and standing up.

"I'll go put these in a bowl, go put something on the tv."

"Can I play anime?"

You waved at him dismissively, unable to find it in yourself to say no to him as you head towards your kitchen to transfer the junk into a bowl when a shrill tune from your bedroom cuts through the air, someone was calling you. You look over to Jungkook, scrolling through his phone, no doubt looking for a movie online.

"Gguk, can you pick up the call for me? My hands are busy right now."

There's a shuffle of feet behind you and in a moment, your phone quietens down. Finished with filling one bowl, you turn to find Jungkook leaving your room with a deep look and your phone in hand. His jaw set tight as he stood there with furrowed brows, eyes lit with irritation.

Looking at his reaction, you asked about your mysterious caller.

"Who was it?"

When he turned to you, the tick in his jaw dispersed. All of a sudden, he's smiling at you with mischief twinkling in his eyes, the change giving you a whiplash.

"It was the others, didn’t answer their calls cause I want you for myself tonight, noona."

(Later on, you'd find yourself staring at the many unread messages and two missed calls from Guwon, wondering in your drunken state if you've muted your phone at some point earlier.)

Hearing it from his lips now, your body locks, heart stuttering in your chest and butterflies exploding in your stomach, spreading a tingly feeling throughout your body and you laugh. 

"Where did you hear that line from, brat? You just activated my fight or flight!"

"Taehyung says that and gets thanked but when I do it, I'm punished?" He pouts, stomping as he approaches the island counters and crossing his arms on the marble surface.

It reminded you of a bunny you saw from a video on the internet, angrily thumping their feet at their owner when it was being purposely ignored.

“In his defense, he does it while he’s acting like my crazy ‘exes’ and saves me from dates.”

“That’s just favoritism! I saved you once from a date!”

You threw him a deadpan stare. "Throwing me over your shoulders and kidnapping me isn’t the same as Tae and Jimin acting crazy enough to make the other guy uncomfortable to save me.”

Hoseok had your favorite troublemakers kneeled on the floor with both their hands up and facing the wall at the time, punishing them for being an hour late to their practice. He had called you in, asking if they had been accompanying you during —they weren’t. 

Long story short, you didn't risk sharing Hoseok’s wrath with the two and took Jungkook instead, a decision you quickly regretted later on in the night when instead of approaching to act like one of your exes when you gave him a signal, he hoisted you up onto his shoulder and ran away while your date only watched in terror.

“Now that’s blatant favoritism! I didn’t kidnap you, we ran away together into the sunset! It was romantic!"

"Not for the other guy, no! He was shitting bricks when he called my mom. She got me squatting the entire afternoon when we met again."

Mentioning it alone made phantom pains throb in your knees and thighs, you shivered. If torture wasn't a socially unacceptable and punishable offense in the modern world, you were sure your mother would have stripped you down to your underwear and made you squat under the sun in front of your family house instead. 

The absolute fury she unleashed on you that day is enough proof that she would've done it with no hesitation if it was lawfully appropriate.

"That's too much for a failed date."

"No reason to dwell on it. Main point is, don't take notes from dramas anymore."

With a last roll of his eye, Jungkook then picked up the bowls and brought them to the coffee table following you who had returned to your seat ahead of him. Once the two of you are situated back on the couch, he navigates through the streaming app for an interesting title before eventually settling on the romance anime he claimed to have heard amazing reviews about.

Without hesitation, Jungkook navigates himself into a familiar between your legs and leaned back on your chest, head finding his rightful space under your chin with a precision gained from doing so for years.

It goes without saying that Bangtan is affectionate. With the pressure they had during their rise to fame, it wasn't shocking that they comfortably seeked each other's comfort and spared no skinship. As one of the only staff within constant exposure that's close to their age, you too became one of their pillars of serenity. 

It was the reason you had crushes on everyone at least twice during your time as their make-up artist, not that any of the boys knew nor does it matter.

Stability and work takes precedence over something as shaky as love.

There's only so much comfort another man can offer, your mother says from years before.

Jungkook more than anyone else in the group. 

As a boy who sacrificed his childhood and time with his parents to pursue his dream, you felt more inclined to watch over him than the others who were adults by the time you joined. You were there for his first heartbreak, his first drink, his high school graduation; the point is, you were there and you held him every time he struggled with problems—mostly girl problems—he's too shy to seek his hyungs for.

But now with his growth spurt, cuddling up to you like he used to when he was younger with his gangly legs awkwardly hanging from the couch, carelessly leaning his head in between the mounds of your breast while his large hand mindlessly drew circles on your knee, you found yourself wondering about the appropriateness of it all.

A man and a woman alone in a room at night in close proximity, body leaning against each other. Society would argue they wouldn’t end the night as friends anymore after the encounter.

You paused mid-drink and grimaced.

It must be the beer talking.

"Noona."

"Yeah?"

"Wrap your arms around me, it's cold."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "It's not though? I always keep my house warm." 

He let out an exasperated groan before reaching behind to grab your arm and roughly slinging it on his shoulders.

As time continued its cycle and episodes started to fly across the screen, the pile of opened beer cans on the table expanded. You really tried to focus on the movie but the feeling of his fingers tracing stars on your bare thigh left you oddly bothered. Jungkook has shifted his position higher at some point during the movie, his body now turned sideways, successfully squeezing himself into the small space between you and the back of the couch, legs entangling itself with yours while an arm is thrown across your body.

This position puts his nose closer to your ears and it makes you shiver. The feel of his hot breath fanning across your skin has given you more goosebumps in under an hour more than you've had throughout your life.

Even drunk, you could feel the building tension thickening around you and the will to tell him to off ebbs away with every caress of his fingers.

Gone were the innocent traces of stars and hearts on your thigh, his hand now grabbed onto your waist almost possessively, thumb rolling slow circles on your bare stomach; the motion conjuring the most unholiest of thoughts known to mankind.

When the credits started rolling, you knew you had to draw the line before you lost yourself to intoxicated thoughts and end the night with regrets.

"Time for you to go home now, your hyungs must be looking for you."

You tried prying his hand from your waist so you could reach for your phone on the table only for him to tighten around you, stopping you from moving away. He groaned, head nuzzling closer into your neck and his lips grazed your skin. 

Instantly, electric jolts shoot through your body.

"Jungkook, I need to get my phone and tell someone to fetch you from here."

"Can't I just stay the night? I'm too comfortable right now…"

The gruff in his voice and the sensation of his lips moving on your skin has your stomach fluttering and you're too drunk to address the growing heat in your abdomen but thanked the sense of professionalism seeping through the fogs of your intoxicated mind.

Managing to pry him off, you reached for your phone and opened up SMS to tell Jin to pick their youngest up.

           [01:21] You: Jwannn

           [01:21] You: can you pick up your kid from my house? He's drunk and stinkyyy

           [01:23] Jinnie: your knight in shining armor is on the way!

“Just let me stay the nighttt,” he whined into your skin.

"I don't have any more spare beds other than this couch for you to sleep in, Gguk. I turned the other room into a closet, remember?"

"I can just sleep with you on the bed, we used to do that, didn't we?"

He attempted to reach around you again but you pushed his limbs away once more before slapping his arm.

You tried not noticing how thicker and harder the muscles felt, you really did. 

"But it's different now, Gguk. Come on, go wash up and drink water, I've already told someo—"

The moment you rose to stand, his arms shot around your waist in record speed and pulled you flush to his front, nuzzling his nose on the back of your neck before he sighed. When the first hot exhale hits your skin, you flinch away but the limbs wounded tightly around your middle restrict you from moving.

You try to ignore the heat simmering under your skin but it was hard when you felt the press of his plush lips on your nape as he leans closer into your skin. 

“You always smell so nice, noona.” He whispered breathily, the sensation of his moving mouth sending shivers down your spine and you shivered.

“I-I can give you my lotion brand later, let me go so I can get it.”

“But I'm comfortable here…”

Mustering every strength left in your body, you manage to pull an arm out of the death grip he had on your body and slapped his hand. Jungkook easily ignores it.

“Come on Gguk, let me out now. This isn't appropriate.”

"How is it different now?"

The alcohol intoxicating your system loosened your grip on your inhibitions and your lips regrettably moved faster than your brain.

"You're a man now, Gguk. Honestly, we shouldn't be even doing this right now. It's inappropriate."

You try to stand once more, managing to pry him from your waist and standing up before his arms hooked around you once more and tugging you back down, this time on his lap as he burrows his head onto your back.

"Gguk?"

"Yo-you see me as a man, noona?"

As a child your mother has taught you how words could heavily influence and drastically change a situation, now as an adult, you've mastered the art of speech. But as you sit still on his thighs, body warm and inhibitions blurred by the alcohol, your loose lips have led you back to the very thing you try to avoid.

"It's hard not to think so when you've grown up this much."

In a flash, Jungkook is now hovering over your face as he places you back down on the couch, his nose a hair's width from touching yours and his hands planted on each side of your head. 

There's a feral hunger swimming in his eyes as it stared into yours, desperate and intense before it fell to the plush of your parted lips and his gaze darkens. All of a sudden, you're a prey pinned down by an apex predator who's ready to devour you at any given moment.

Fire alarms blared in your mind and you regained control over your senses.

“Jungkook.”

"Noona."

You tried wriggling out of his grasp but it was no use, he's stronger. "Get off of me, kid."

“How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not a kid anymore?”

“I'm not hearing anything out when you're acting like this, Gguk.”

He scoffed. “I just want to sleep here, in the same bed, nothing else is gonna happen. Why is it such a bad thing?”

“It's different now, Gguk. Come on, let me go.”

“How is it so different? You and Jimin hyung cuddle sometimes, I've seen you fall asleep next to Hobi hyung once, why is it different with me?”

“It's different because we're both drunk and things could happen.”

“I wouldn't mind it.” Jungkook responds with a cheeky smile. His grip on one of your wrist loosened enough that you were able to hit his arm and he giggled in response.

“But I do. It wouldn't be fair.”

Even something as small as letting one member stay at your home without the others can be the loudest announcement for the rest of the group. All those times you've rejected your friends, with reasons like ‘I don’t want to risk everything’, and ‘I don't want to hurt the others’, to turn back around to accept their youngest would be hypocritical of you.

He scoffs. "You tell us about all your stupid dates, don't you think it's more unfair for us?”

A familiar weight grows in your chest. Guilt tasted like rust on your tongue and dug into your heart with a ribbed knife. Your own late night thoughts manifesting before you and you pushed him away.

After everything, you were all friends, you trusted them more than you do with your other circle. There's not a secret left undiscussed between the eight of you so it was no surprise that you had indulged them with the details of your quest for a husband. Nobody ever raised any complaints with you sharing your days so you never thought twice about it.

It's been five years since Jin had confessed, three for Taehyung. Their eldest had confessed for the sake of him finally being able to move on after your rejection and with how he acted after, you had believed him. It was different for Taehyung who had continued to act like normal after his confession, neither dejected nor did he show signs of letting go but he did introduce a date to your group once, a year later, so you had assumed the same.

Were you wrong after all?

“Jungkook, we're drunk. Let’s talk about this tom—”

“I've never been more sober in my life than I am right now, noona.”

You didn't respond, couldn't reply.

What were you supposed to even say?

Jungkook usually obeyed you and his hyungs without hesitation, happily offering his aid whenever he could. He's the type of friend who's run himself dry just to fetch you a cup of water from the other side of the world but now as he hovers over you, he became a whole new person.

Greed has always been an irritating parasite that eats away at a person's morals but somehow in your drunken mind, you thought it looked so good on him. It fits him and his generous character the way one light clothing molds well with the dark fabrics. His familiar scent of vanilla and coconut clouded your senses, calming your panicking mind into a hush, leaving nothing but the thoughts of how his lips tasted and wondering if he’s as sweet as he smelled.

He let out a shaky exhale from through his mouth as he watched your parted lips with a rapt attention as if hypnotized by the way they subtly trembled with every breath that passed through.

In the pregnant silence of your room, his voice cuts through like a knife.

“Can I kiss you?”

He whispers against your lips, voice breaking in the middle from the weight of his request, honeyed and pleading, as if your kiss holds the answer to the problems of the world and holds the power to break him.

His hand travels up to cup your cheek oh so carefully like you're fragile china yet you feel yourself shatter under his touch.

You are losing grasp on your sober thoughts as lust starts to cloud your already compromised judgment, his request far too tempting to ignore.

Maybe a kiss wouldn’t hurt. 

But wouldn’t it be unfair for the others who have expressed their romantic intentions to you since years ago? 

It was a last ditch effort to reason with your mind and your body froze from the cold wave of realization. In the short time after his question, you recall the confessions you turned down to not ruin the relationship Bangtan has established for themselves and the bitter taste it left on your tongue.

“Jungkook… we can’t.”

Watching his expression contort into confused hurt almost made you want to take your words back, but your mind takes you to memories of apologetic and understanding smiles you’ve received throughout the years and the aches from those moments resurfaces, squeezing your heart in a tight grip.

“I-I’m sorry I can’t control my feelings, I just wanted to tell you about it… Thought that maybe after this, I could move on.” An apologetic voice whispers, the memory of premature confessions in the middle of a cleanup resurfacing.

“I can’t—I can’t do it to them, it’d be unfair.”

You pushed him back and he relented, letting himself be sat back onto the other side of the couch defeatedly. Despite it, his tight grip on your waist remained, pulling you flush to him and burying his face in your chest as if trying to hear the lie in your words through the beatings of your heart.

“I’m also seeing Guwon now.”

“Then don’t let me meet him. I-I don’t know if I can take it.”

It was heart wrenching and at the same time, left an uncomfortable twist in your stomach. Jungkook never had to beg since you first met him, everything he could ever want was given to him by you and his hyungs without hesitation. Hearing him plead for you to never bring Guwon around if fate had actually paired you both, it was a different kind of pain.

It felt like thorns growing and rooting its stems of pointy ends into the deepest parts of your heart. You hated this, but you don’t want to hurt any of your boys by accepting one.

Relief comes in the form of Taehyung when he busted into your apartment while Jungkook has excused himself to your bathroom to sober up just a moment before. Seokjin trails behind him, calmer than the younger man who declared his arrival with a deep voice and a loud bang of the door. You immediately thought of the elderly couple and the new family of three living next to you and internally facepalmed.

“Noona! We’ve come to take Jungkook away!”

Kim Seokjin’s face has never been more handsome when he closed the door behind him, and you verbalized your thought, leading his ears to glow red in embarrassment.

“Am I only handsome to you when I’m closing the doors?! This face that people fawn over all over the world?!”

“It’s your true calling, door guy.”

“Oh shut it hyung, you’re making my head hurt.” Jungkook mutters as he reentered the living room, looking far better than when he left.

The tension was palpable, the effect of a rejected profession still raw and thick in the small joined space of the living room and kitchen and you caught Jin's eyes as the two youngest bickered, there’s a knowing look passed between you, an unsaid ‘let’s talk later’ hanging in the air.

“Hey, just because you got to escape Hoba’s practice without scratch doesn't mean you're hot shit, show me some respect!”

Seokjin scolds, accompanied by a playful kick to their youngest’s butt. Immediately the stuffy air dissipates and Jungkook responds in kind; by kicking him in the shin, hard enough to launch Seokjin into another lengthy nag.

It was a quick retrieval after his rant. Jungkook lets himself be towed out of your apartment by an oddly enthusiastic Taehyung who's going on about a new game trailer he saw online while Jin has offered to be left behind to clean up the mess. It was no doubt obvious, the familiar awkwardness and tenseness brought by a rejected confession lingered in the air when they arrived, it only took him one look at you and he already knew. 

The moment the door slams shut behind the boys, he immediately began:

“Did he admit it?”

His voice was soft yet it rang loudly in the pindrop silence of your living room. The sigh he let out echoed more when you nodded.

“I told him to not do it, you know? But you know how stubborn he gets.”

You didn’t reply. You simply move, walking to the trash bin to put the empty beer cans in and Jin follows close with the bowls stacked on top of each other to place in the sink. It was a brief moment of reprieve. He let the moment from earlier simmer in your stomach, let the smoke from it fill your lungs and weigh your heart till you burst.

Out of the seven boys, you've always turned to either him or Yoongi as they're older than you, so it came to nobody's shock when you break and told him.

“It just never gets better, I always feel guilty even if I didn’t choose. I’m just lucky I didn’t have to suffer through seven of these, I don’t think I could take it and just quit.”

It was a thought you’ve entertained when Taehyung came to you with his heart in his hand, giving it to you carelessly despite knowing how you’ve handled the other confessions. He was all dopey smiles and flushed cheeks, it continued even when you’ve pushed his heart back to him with an apologetic look.

Seeing the happy creases in his eyes iron out despite the huge boxy smile continuing to play on his lips, the existing pressuring guilt reawakened. Taehyung’s heart that gleamed and glowed gold, vulnerable for you to take and use from where it settled in the middle of his offering palms. You could’ve taken advantage of it all as they were rising in fame, when they were facing discrimination from the other companies and had found comfort in you but you didn’t.

Even with the attraction you've felt for them, you were nothing but a makeup artist to the company. Another asset to deploy and replace if it got annoying to handle. You couldn't risk your career on uncertainties, this is your dream job.

You loved them all equally and held them in the same regards as the others, they’re your best friends, chosen soul companions even without the marks to solidify it. 

They loved you and you loved them all but you wouldn't bet your life on an uncertain future.

“You should give us more credit, you know?” 

He says from the kitchen sink, the sound of water slowing into a halt. Seokjin didn’t move for a while. When he did, it was to place down the plates, washing his hands before turning around to face you.

“We’re grown adults now, we can handle rejection so don’t feel too bad about it. You can choose and we’d even help you keep it a secret from everyone besides us eight.”

It was genuine. Even in the haze of your intoxication, those words felt like a cool balm for your aching heart. While Namjoon’s words were cited research, formal and factual and Yoongi’s were calming droughts to ease the discomfort of sadness brought by gloomy thoughts, Seokjin speaks from the heart, true and unbiased but says it with a gentleness and care. 

Guilt sets like a boulder on your heart. Being able to feel, to experience such a privilege when all you've done is break his heart since your hunt for a husband, the weight in your chest multiplied and tears sprung from your eyes.

You wanted them but you couldn't risk your dream job, couldn't risk a friendship as precious as theirs for kisses and hugs that eventually has its ends.

You didn’t even notice it when he crossed the distance between you both and pulled you plush to his chest but you recognized the familiar sensation of plush lips pressing against your forehead.

If it lingered a few seconds past what's platonically allowed, you didn’t mention it.

Seokjin’s muted scent of freshly baked cakes brought silence to the rampaging waves of thoughts in your mind and if you pressed your nose flush to his chest to bury yourself in his fragrance, he didn’t say anything, bringing one hand behind your head protectively.

“I'm sorry to put you through this pain, Jinnie. I-I didn’t know.”

“I knew you didn’t know but I'll be fine... eventually.” He breathes out before leaning down to bury himself into the nest of your hair. "As long as you're happy, then I am too."

It was heavy, being loved and held so preciously even after you’ve turned him down, it felt cruel, sadistic even. But like the selfish woman you are, you accepted it. Soaked in his affections greedily.

“You know, he asked me to never show Guwon around you guys.”

He sighed. “I knew he would.”

“Do you want that as well?

Silence followed but you heard his answer loud and clear.

The second date happened after the first leg of the tour in Seoul.

Although planned suddenly, you appreciated the downtime after being lost in the haze of rushed outfit changes, reapplying makeup, and patting sweat from foreheads. If anything, you were thankful you could loosen up after earlier. The awkward tension didn’t go amiss, it only took Namjoon and Yoongi one look between you and Jungkook before taking charge on how the night progresses.

Yoongi didn't waste any time waving you over to ask for help for his makeup, even when he was already being prepped by one of your older colleagues, Ji hae. Thankfully, the woman lets you take over, saying she wanted a snack anyways.

The man didn't bother asking you what happened and settled comfortably in his chair but not before offering you the snack he bought earlier and was laying neglected on his lap. Yoongi asked about Guwon in a hushed voice, because while you were living in a reverse harem with most of his brothers, he was genuinely curious about your boyfriend-to-be.

Maybe it was the fact he has never admitted his affections for you that made it comfortable to discuss topics you could never talk about with the others with him, but you let your tongue a little loose.

And he listened.

Yoongi has always been a man of action not words, his love language has always been opening water bottles, blankets appearing from nowhere when you're passed out on their couch, and listening attentively. Despite what the world says about his nonchalance and silence, in your eyes, he's the sweetest guy on the roster—not that you'd tell Jimin that of course, he'd riot if he were to find out.

By the end of the concert, Guwon asks you on an impromptu date. A simple late night walk on a market nearby because there's apparently a food fair, and as usual, the expenses are on him. Hungry with a principle of never turning down free food, of course you accepted. 

Though you had a long time deciding whether to go or not with Jungkook’s confession still fresh.

Minutes later, he's waiting for you by the exit. The scene of him leaning on his Mercedes, waiting for you to reach him at the bottom of the stairs looks like it was pulled out of a kdrama.

Oddly enough, they didn’t question your lack of updates in the group chat but Jimin reached out later on and you suspect he told everyone your whereabouts instead, hopefully minus the date part to spare the others (read: Jungkook) from heartbreak.

The fair looked like a mirage of a paradise in the night hidden away in a small gently-lit up alley. The path was lightened up with gentle lanterns hung above you, the warm colors setting a more intimate scene. It wasn’t as luxurious as dinner from yesterday or as calming as the bike ride around the Han river but you appreciated it nonetheless.

You’re ready to drop dead but you pushed through, you wanted this relationship to work. Because then, maybe the monsters—your mother and her wide selection of personalities as well as aunties, her friends, trying to refer you to their horrible sons—haunting you from under your bed will finally leave you alone.

It was cruel that you’re using someone else to erase the memory of being professed to by one of your best friends.

Guwon was happy enough to take charge the whole date, leading you from food stall after food stall, ordering whatever your eyes lingered at which is half of what the fair offers. He understands your lack of responses as it is, tired from work, and talked enough for the both of you. Which you are grateful for.

He talked about his job and what happened that day, willingly telling you about the story of how he and his co-workers clicked back in College, never to part till now in the field they wanted. He spoke of his dreams, how he envisioned his dream home by the province surrounded by nature and the cat named Nabi waiting for him at home.

There's nothing more blatant of a signal than the last part, whether you accept it or not depends on you.

Normally, you would've frowned at the thought, immediately thinking of running away but as the night deepens and stalls start to close, the idea grows more and more tempting despite the logical voice in your head disagreeing. Seeking a distraction and possibly leading on a kind man is cruel, both to him and you.

But at the end of the day, it’s just an escape from the reality you're stuck in, a temporary answer to a long time problem. 

How harmful can it be? 

People had hookups before, you’ve had hookups before your mother has started a hunt for your husband this year so what are you so reluctant for? 

If this man is to be your husband, you should check your physical compatibility right?

You shivered. God, you sounded like one of those shitty guys you’ve dated before.

"Hey, the stalls just closed. Are you fine with me driving you back to your house?"

His voice cuts through your deep thoughts and you turn to him. Even in the dimly lit corner of the alley, Guwon looked attractive as ever with his dimpled smile and laid back attitude, his soft eyes gleaming under the lanterns, affections overflowing from his gaze and you. shuddered from its weight. 

Staring at the man, you wondered if you'd ever fall in love with him as he seemed right now.

Soon enough, you both arrive in front of your apartment building. However, not every plan goes through as you thought it'd go and you find two familiar figures rushing down to meet you. 

Taehyung didn't hesitate to run up to you with open arms and a wide smile. He didn't even care that you both almost toppled over if it wasn't for Guwon hand supporting you from the back.

"Wh-why are you two here? Shouldn't you guys be resting?"

Jimin shrugged but you caught the mischievous glint in his eyes as a small smile tugs his lips. "Hyung got so worried and wanted us to make sure you got home safely."

"Even a thumbs up would be great but you ignored every text and call! Jin hyung panicked and sent us out, if you didn't come home, he would've had a huge manhunt for you." Taehyung chimed in, pulling away but keeping his hands on your shoulders as he stared deep into your eyes, as if trying to hypnotize you into believing them.

Jimin snickered. “Yoongi hyung was an hour away from declaring you missing so the good dongsaengs we are, we decided to camp outside your apartment.”

You would've accepted his explanation, it was logically sound yet the dark glint of mischief and something else in his eyes as his gaze bounced from you to Guwon told you a different story.

They've always had to interrupt your dates when it becomes sour but this was the first time they've confronted a potential partner outside the intentions of ruining a date because you wanted it to suck.

This was them laying their claim over their own, a silent statement. A declaration you try not to think so much about, fearing you'd dig yourself deep and fall to your death.

“These must be one of your kids?” Guwon asks from behind, reminding you of his presence and you turn to him with an apologetic look.

“Yeah, Taehyung and Jimin. I practically raised them.”

Jimin scoffs and your head snapped to him, widening your eyes in warning to which he ignored. “Just because you’re a year older, doesn’t mean you could say you raised us you know?”

“See what I deal with everyday?” 

Guwon laughs lightheartedly before patting your head to get your attention. “Since your kids are here to protect you, I should get going now.”

“Drive safely.”

“See you soon?”

“Definitely.”

Then he placed a haste kiss on the edge of your lips, catching you off guard and you froze. Guwon was already in his car by the time you realized what happened and turned to chastise him. You couldn't even knock on the passenger window when the arms coiled around your shoulders tightened and tugged you close.

Letting Guwon kiss you in front of one of the men who confessed to you once was the first mistake, second was looking up at Taehyung whose hug is starting to hurt.

Gone were the usual giddiness and child-like enthusiasm that would pour from his eyes. It was replaced by a colder glare, almost blank and emotionless as it narrowed behind you and jaw locked tight. There was something primal in the way his hand behind your head was pushing you closer to him as if he was hounding over his game from another predator.

Goosebumps prickled your skin awake.

If butterflies exploded in your stomach and ignited a molten heat in your abdomen at that very moment, it's a secret you’d take to your grave.

“Tae?”

“Noona, I think we should head inside. It's getting cold.” Jimin’s sweet voice sounded forced and you resisted the urge to look at him.

While their reaction to being challenged is obvious, you couldn't, for the life of you, figure out why he should feel like that when he’s been seeing other people since his confession. From your past dates where he attended as one of your escape plans, he’s  never expressed such an intense show of displeasure so you thought his fleeting crush had passed.

Until tonight.

When Taehyung pulled away, the traces of his hostility were gone and you had to double take at how vastly different he's appearing now. He has his lower lip pushed out into a pout, eyes wide with mirth as he reaches up to cup your cheeks, his warm palms heating your cold-nipped skin.

“Aigoo, you're so cold noona. Let's go in and binge that foreign show you've been following.”

With hands now intertwined, he leads you inside the building where Jimin was already standing inside and was holding the door open for you both. You were being tugged into your own home yet you couldn’t help but feel tense as Taehyung and Jimin welcomed you back in with the same dark look you saw earlier.

[drabbles-mc]

Different Now

Bucky Barnes x ExWife!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, angst

For Week 5 of @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer 2024: exes

Word Count: 6k

A/N: something about Bucky and an ex-wife really got me Thinking Thoughts. hope y'all enjoy!!! xo

The apartment wasn’t something that you had asked for when it was all said and done. Really, you hadn’t asked for anything. The only things that you wanted weren’t things that could be divvied up by overpriced divorce lawyers.

When you had tried to tell Bucky that you weren’t interested in keeping the apartment, he wasn’t having it. You tried to argue that it had been his to begin with, that you were the one that moved in with him. It only made sense for you to be the one to move right back out again. But he was adamant—he always was. His argument then had been that he had another place to stay in the meantime until he found something else. It felt like half of his life was at the tower anyway, so it wouldn’t be a problem to treat it like a long-term stay at a hotel until he found a new apartment.

You were so sick of arguing by then that you just gave in. If he didn’t want to have it, it wasn’t the hill you were preparing to die on. You slapped your signature and initials where the lawyers told you to and just like that, the apartment was yours and Bucky wasn’t.

He did you the courtesy of letting you know when he would be stopping by to move all of his things out. When the day came, he knew that it was no stroke of luck that you happened to be out of town for a few days. The realization stung but he supposed that he couldn’t really blame you for it either.

The first few weeks after he’d moved all of his things out, the apartment felt almost painfully empty. There was a sliver of time during which you were thinking about moving out anyway, Bucky’s final parting gift be damned. It didn’t feel quite like home without him, without Alpine and all of the chaos and mess that came with the two of them.

Eventually you started to fill in the gaps that he’d left behind. New books for the shelves to fill the space where his used to be. Art and trinkets to fill in the empty spaces where his small pockets of clutter used to reside. It was the largest the apartment had ever felt and it was strange to have no one to share it with. Slowly, though, you started to adapt. It slowly started to feel like home.

Redecorating the apartment was one thing. Adjusting to your daily routine without Bucky being part of it was another. It wasn’t as though either of you had been blindsided by the divorce—it’d been coming for some time. Still, even as the distance had grown between you, there were still those tendrils of connection that hadn’t been severed yet. Attachments that only form after years spent with someone day in and day out through all of the things that the two of you had gone through together.

There were times when you were lounging on the couch in the living room and for a moment you’d find yourself wondering when he was going to come home only to realize that he wasn’t going to. Or you’d be heading home after work and you’d almost go to find his name in your phone to call and see if he needed you to pick anything up on your way. Habits you hadn’t even realized formed until you no longer needed them.

Weeks turned into months. New habits formed to replace the old ones that no longer suited you and your life. If you didn’t think too hard about it, you didn’t feel the dull ache that still existed down in your chest. You stayed busy with work, with friends. The times when you thought about reaching out to Bucky, you made every effort to reach out to just about anyone else instead. The last time you’d had any sort of conversation with him was when he moved his things out. And even then, it had been a simple text exchange. Him saying, “All set. Let me know if I missed anything.” Followed by your brief response of, “Will do”. Something short that made you glad he couldn’t see the tears that were welled up in your eyes.

Not reaching out to him was difficult. It was hard not to sit and wonder if he was having just as hard of a time with it as you were, but it wasn’t like you could reach out and ask him about it. The closest you got to any kind of communication with Bucky was the rare text from Steve. He never asked about Bucky or anything having to do with the two of you. He kept it cordial, the way that you’d expect from any acquaintance, you supposed. Because that’s what he was to you now. You got the apartment in the divorce. Bucky got all of his friends. Painful but fair.

You were halfway to falling asleep on the couch when your phone buzzed on top of the coffee table. The groan of annoyance you let out was involuntary, arm still slung across your forehead as you contemplated whether or not you wanted to see what anyone had to say. It wasn’t terribly late—not what you considered emergency late, anyway. But it was still getting close to past the time most people would be reaching out to chat.

Your arm that wasn’t covering your face reached out from underneath your throw blanket. Blindly groping around, your fingertips finally grazed over your phone. You were forcing your eyes to open back up all the way as you carefully held the phone over your face. There had been enough instances of you dropping it directly onto your nose and forehead to dissuade you, but it never stuck.

Skimming the notifications on your screen, at first you thought that your eyes were playing tricks on you. Maybe you were just exhausted. Or maybe you were stuck in a very realistic if not boring dream. Or nightmare, depending on how you wanted to look at it. There just didn’t seem to be any other reasons that there would be a text message from Bucky waiting to be opened.

It got you to sit upright, at least. The blanket fell from where it’d been pulled up to your shoulders, piling in your lap as you leaned back against the arm of the sofa. There was no universe in which you would leave the message unopened, or delete it without reading it. Even though you knew that about yourself, though, you still sat there for a few seconds and entertained the thought of it.

You typed in the passcode to your phone with the second nature ease you always did, the only difference now was that your heart was in your throat as you waited to see what the message was going to be. It’d been months, and it was late, and you had no idea what you should be expecting from him.

“Feel free to say no but I need a favor” Your heart dropped to your stomach and then another message came through. “Not an emergency”

His messages didn’t leave you feeling like you had anything in the way of answers. If anything, now you just had more questions. “You okay?” Part of you knew that if things had really been bad, he would’ve called. Or he wouldn’t have reached out at all. One of the two.

“Need a place to stay” You couldn’t help the deep sigh that you let out as you read his message. Then, as if he heard you, he sent a follow-up message. “Just one night. Promise”

If you said no, he’d drop the topic. You knew that about him beyond a shadow of a doubt. He’d let it go and realistically it would probably be the last time you heard from him. But you also knew that he wouldn’t be reaching out and asking you if he had somewhere else he felt like he could go. He had people he could lean on, places he could be. If he was reaching out to you there must’ve been something going on. It wasn’t your business to ask about anymore, though.

“Still have the address?” It was a lame pass at a joke, but you hoped it would at least convey that he could come over.

“Yeah, think I might have it somewhere. Thank you”

You didn’t reply, didn’t really feel like there was anything else that needed to be said. instead, you looked around your apartment and wondered if there was something that you were supposed to be doing. It felt strange, the idea of him being back in the apartment again. It was his first, sure. And then you shared it. But now it was yours and he was going to be a guest. However long it would take him to get there, you were sure it wasn’t enough time to unpack all of those feelings.

Bucky gripped onto the strap of the backpack he was wearing as he stood outside the door of your apartment. The halls leading to your apartment had been empty, which he should’ve expected with how late it was. He stared at the door, the same dark, mock-wood paneling staring him in the face that had each night for so many years. It felt familiar and strange to be standing in front of it again.

He adjusted his grip on his backpack, a brief distraction so he didn’t have to contemplate knocking or taking out his keys. It was later now than it had been when he first reached out. The amount of time that had passed had nothing to do with how long it took him to get from the tower to your apartment—that hadn’t taken very long at all. What made him so late was the amount of time he’d spent sitting in his car debating whether or not he was actually going to do this. The engine had been off, everything silent, and he just sat there staring at the symbol in the middle of his steering wheel as he weighed out every possible scenario, all of the pros and cons that he could think of.

But now he was here and he almost turned around and walked away again anyway. Before he could completely chicken out, he fished his keys back out of his pocket. It took him longer than he wanted to admit to realize that he still had the apartment key—it was just such a fixture on his keyring by that point. But he didn’t have it in him to bring it back. It wasn’t like he ever used it, or even thought about using it. There was something about it that he just couldn’t throw away.

He had about three seconds of thinking this was the one singular time that his sentimental streak was going to come in handy. But then when he tried to slip the key into the lock, he found that he couldn’t. He double-checked to make sure that he’d gone to the right apartment on the right floor, although he couldn’t imagine messing that up.

Then it hit him. Whether you had asked the landlord to swap out the locks after he left or if the man had done it on his own because he didn’t trust any split to be as cordial as any couple tried to make it out to be, Bucky no longer could let himself in. Pulling in a deep breath, he shoved his keys back into his pocket and reached to knock on the door.

The speed at which you leapt off the couch at the sound to get to the door would’ve been embarrassing if he had been able to see it. Luckily your shame was just for you. Stopping in front of the door, you took a couple breaths as you smoothed out the oversized t-shirt and pajama shorts that you were wearing. Maybe you should’ve thought to change but it was too late now. Besides, it wasn’t anything that Bucky hadn’t seen a million times before.

You undid all the locks. When you had first gone over to Bucky’s apartment you’d thought that he was a little paranoid. You didn’t blame him for it, but it still crossed your mind. After he’d moved out, though, you found that you had no interest in getting rid of the deadbolt or slider-chain that he’d had put onto the door.

His face was all exhaustion and worry until he found himself looking at you. Then the worry lines on his forehead eased a little, his frown didn’t stretch quite so deep. Even so, you could still see the stress on his face and in the way that he was holding himself. You were sure that the current circumstances didn’t help, but whatever had happened that resulted in him reaching out to you was just as much of a culprit.

“Hi,” he finally said when he realized that it’d just been the two of you silently staring at each other.

The sound of his voice was enough to get you to smile despite the knot in your stomach. “Hey.”

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, adjusting his backpack as he did. “Thank you for this. I know I shouldn’t have asked…”

You shook your head as you opened the door and gestured for him to come in. “It’s fine.” Once he was inside you turned around and redid all the locks. You ignored the endearing expression on his face when you faced him again for the sake of your own sanity. “Everything alright?”

He started off nodding but then it dissolved into a shrug as his chin tucked down towards his chest. “Didn’t want to stay at the tower. Everyone’s been at each other’s throats lately so when we got back this afternoon I just…I didn’t want to stay there.”

“Your place far away now?” you asked as you took his backpack from him and set it by the couch. You started to walk towards the kitchen, hoping he would take the hint and follow suit.

“What?” he asked, toeing off his boots before he started to trail behind you.

“Your apartment. Or house. Is it far?” You were still trying to figure out why he had decided to come here of all places.

“Um,” he stumbled on his words as he stayed by the stretch of counter kitty-corner to where you stood at the coffee pot, “n-no. Not…really.” He kicked himself immediately. He was never able to lie very well to you at all, let alone so quickly on his feet. It said plenty about him, about how he felt about you, but there was no time to get into all of that.

You looked over at him, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “Want a cup of coffee to hold onto while you tell me about whatever that means?” You kept your tone light and joking enough, but you knew that years of experience with you meant that Bucky knew he wasn’t going to be able to get out of explaining himself.

He let out a small sigh of defeat as he nodded. “Please.”

Neither of you said anything as you made a cup of coffee for each of you. You could see him out of the corner of your eye. Any other circumstance would’ve made it seem strange that he was staring at you so blatantly, but there weren’t very many other things to hold his attention at the moment. Something told you he wasn’t really in the mood to try and count all the things you’d changed after he moved out.

You brought the coffee mugs over to the small table that was tucked off to the side in your kitchen. You sat down and waited for him to do the same, which he did after a moment of hesitation. He pulled his mug closer to him, cupping it between both his hands even though only one could really feel the warmth radiating off of it.

“So?” you asked before taking a sip from your cup.

He didn’t look at you, eyes fixed on the drink in front of him. “I’ve been staying at the tower.”

You nodded, leaning back in your chair. “Okay?”

He sighed, shaking his head. He still couldn’t make himself look up. “Since I m—” he tripped on the words, still not accustomed to saying them out loud, “Since I moved out.”

Your eyes widened. “Bucky.”

He had no other choice but to look at you now. “I know.”

Gesturing briefly to the apartment, you said, “I told you to just keep th—”

“I know you did,” he cut you off. “I wanted you to have it. Still do.”

“You can’t just stay at the tower forever. It’s basically, like, a glorified frathouse.”

You both had a laugh at that before Bucky’s face sobered up. “I wasn’t planning on staying there. Just,” he took a sip of his coffee, enjoying it more than anything he’d concocted at the tower in the last few months “didn’t get to it.”

“Tony mention starting to charge you rent, then?” you asked, a joking lilt to your tone to hide the ache in your chest.

Bucky huffed out a laugh, a slight upward curl to his lips, but you could tell that he was trying to stuff down some of the same feelings that you were. “I’m sure he will once he figures out how much hot water I use.”

You let a beat pass before saying, “If you need help finding a place, I can—”

“No, no.” There was a hint of frustration in his voice but it wasn’t really directed at you. “Finding a spot isn’t the issue. I can do that.”

“Then why the fuck have you been crashing at the tower this long?”

“I wasn’t ready to get my own place!” he snapped, not meaning to. The answer came out quickly and much more honestly than he intended. He’d wanted to some up with something snarky to evade the discussion, but it was too late and he was too tired. Sitting across the table from you always left him feeling so vulnerable. He tried to ignore the sad frown on your face, the tears welling in your eyes. “I wasn’t ready to start over. Getting my own place? I just…yeah, no.”

“Sorry,” the word came out meek and mumbled. You hadn’t meant to pry open that particular can of worms, especially not on a night that he was just looking for a place to unwind and rest. Maybe it would’ve done the two of you some good to have some form of contact over the last few months, but it was too late to go back and fix that now.

“You still like it here?” he asked.

You could hear the hopefulness in the question. There was only one right answer to the question. Bucky needed to know that the one thing that he could really leave you with was something that had done you some good, something you could still enjoy even if he wasn’t around to enjoy it with you anymore.

You nodded. “I like it. It’s…you know…it’s different now. But I like it.”

He tried not to sound too relieved. “Good.”

Minutes ticked by with nothing but silence between you. Everything that either of you wanted to say, you felt like you couldn’t. every time you glanced over at Bucky, he was already looking at you. His face never really gave away much, but you could still see the sadness in his eyes. You couldn’t help but to think that this wasn’t exactly what he thought he was singing on for when he reached out needing a place to crash for the night.

Like he could read your thoughts, he spoke up. “Figured I’d just take the couch.”

“You sure?” you asked, like you had any real backup plan to offer.

He nodded as he stood up out of his seat. He picked his mug up off the table, and then yours before walking them over to the sink. You watched him as he quickly rinsed them out before setting them down in the sink basin. “It’s fine. I’ll be gone before you’re up in the morning.”

You frowned at that without meaning to. “You don’t have to—”

“It’s fine. Like I said—I just needed a break.”

There was no use in trying to turn it into an argument, so you nodded. “Okay. I’ll grab you a blanket and a pillow.”

His shoulders relaxed. “Thank you.”

When you came back out to the living room, Bucky had already changed. He was in his usual sleepwear—an told tank top and loose shorts. When the two of you were together, he’d always just foregone the shirt half of the equation, but you assumed that he was trying his best to be courteous.

You offered him the folded-up blanket and the pillow resting on top of it with a weak smile. “Here you go.”

His smile wasn’t much more convincing than yours, but at least you were trying together. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” You raked your fingers back over your scalp as you tried to figure out if there was something else you should be saying or doing. “If you need anything else, let me know. Or, you know,” the nervous laugh you let out let him know you were no more certain about this joke than he was going to be, “help yourself. Whatever it is, is probably right where you left it.”

Surprisingly enough you both chuckled quietly. “Thank you.”

There was nothing more to say or do but it still felt wrong to turn and head off to your room. Your standing there wasn’t doing either of you any good, so you crossed your arms over your chest. “Okay. Goodnight, then.”

He nodded as he tossed the pillow onto the couch and started to unfold the blanket you’d given him. “Night.”

You took a small step backwards. “If I don’t see you in the morning, good luck. With…you know, everything.”

He gave a small smile as he draped the blanket onto the couch cushions. “Thanks, doll.”

The sharp silence that followed those two words permeated the entire room. Bucky froze, unable to look over at you. You froze, unable to look anywhere but at him. The tension in his muscles came back tenfold as he tried to figure out how to walk himself out of the minefield he’d just stepped into. He took a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling for a moment before over at you.

“Sorry,” he said, although he wasn’t sure how much he meant it. “Force of habit. It’s been a while.”

You wished that you’d felt nothing when he said it, but there was still the flutter in your stomach at the sweetness, the familiarity of the pet name that he hadn’t been around to call you in far too long.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. You pulled your arms a little tighter around yourself, like that would stop you from reaching out and doing something stupid that you’d be kicking yourself for later. “I get it.”

He could see the tension in your body, could practically feel the waves of it rolling off you. “You sure it’s alright that I’m here?”

You laughed, the sound tired but still a little amused at the question. Your arms dropped back to your sides. “Yes. God. Please, it’s fine. Don’t, don’t worry about it. I’d be more upset knowing you were going back to the tower.”

He laughed, muscles in his shoulders loosening. “Okay.”

You reached out, fingertips just barely grazing against his forearm. “Goodnight.”

The touch barely lasted for a second but he could’ve sworn that he felt the warmth from your fingertips spread throughout his whole body in that moment. You were already turned away from him and making your way to the bedroom. Off to be alone in a place the two of you spent so many nights sharing.

His body was moving faster than his brain as he stepped to go after you. He knew as he was doing it that it was a terrible idea from every angle but he couldn’t stop himself. You’d heard his footsteps, and you were turning around to see what he was that he needed. Your pause caused him to have to stop short, hardly a hair’s breadth between you. You were holding your breath in anticipation, waiting for whatever was coming next, Bucky’s eyes desperately searching yours.

He brought his hand up to your cheek, his palm rough but warm against your face. You sunk into his touch the same way one sinks into their bed at home after a long trip away. Your eyes fluttered shut but it didn’t stop the tears from welling and escaping onto your cheeks.

“Bucky…” even at a whisper your voice cracked with emotion as you said his name.

He waited for you to open your eyes, to look at him again. Your eyes were glassy, the tears that weren’t staining your cheeks clinging to your lashes. But you were beautiful. In that moment he couldn’t understand how or when it had all turned into such a mess. It seemed impossible that it had all fallen apart.

He was waiting for you to pull away as he leaned in, but you didn’t. You didn’t backpedal, didn’t try to push him away from you, didn’t ask him to stop or say it was a bad idea, even though he should’ve and it was. His lips caught yours for the first time in…he didn’t want to think about how long. When you kissed him back it felt like it erased all the months of distance and silence between you. Your hands rested on his chest and suddenly the mess disappeared.

Even when you came back up for air, your lips were still practically touching. Your nose brushed against his as you shook your head. “Bucky.”

He shut his eyes tight for a moment, knowing where this was going. “Don’t.”

A knot formed in the back of your throat. “But—”

“Please.” He brought his other hand up so that they were both cupping your face. It’d been a long time since the chill of the metal made you flinch. It still felt familiar, welcoming despite the circumstances. “Please.”

Another half-hearted protest was on the tip of your tongue but he kissed you again before you could get it out. It made your knees weak, the amount of desire that he was able to pack into one gesture, a gesture that didn’t last nearly long enough.

“I know,” he said with a tiny nod. He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “But I’m askin’ anyway.”

You knew that you were going to give in from the start, but at least now you could lie to yourself if you had to—you could tell yourself that you at least tried to put up a little bit of a fight. Satisfied with that, you nodded as you leaned in and kissed him.

Relief coursed through him as he wrapped his arms around you. With no hesitation he turned and started to walk you back towards the couch, not taking his lips off yours as he did. His hands slipped up underneath the fabric of your shirt dragging and mapping out your skin like he was trying to feel for anything that had changed since he last had you like this. Your hands slid up his chest and neck, briefly running over the stubble that was coming in along his jaw, before they wound themselves into his hair. He leaned into you, deepening your kiss further at the sensation of your nails carding through his hair and raking along the top of his head.

He pulled out of the kiss, only doing so long enough to get your shirt off, and to allow you to do the same to him. They landed haphazardly on the floor between the couch and the coffee table. They no sooner hit the floor and Bucky had you lying flat on your back on the couch. Not even a second passed before he was on top of you, settled over you and in between your legs like he was always meant to be there. He kissed you with conviction as his hands ran over your stomach and chest. You moaned into his mouth at the sensation, missing the way that it felt when he touched you like this.

You felt the smooth metal of his Vibranium hand cupping the side of your face while his other hand trailed teasingly down your stomach towards the waistband of your shorts. You felt the whine building in the base of your throat before he even reached your core. The way you felt him smile into your kiss let you know that he knew it, too. You missed him too much and wanted him too badly to care about that.

The second you felt his fingers give a teasing graze over your center, you were bucking into his touch. You felt the shaky breath he took in, like there was still some part of him that was trying to exercise some self-control. It was too late for that now as far as you were concerned. He dragged his fingers along your folds, feeling how wet you already were for him. The thought of you still wanting him so badly had him pulling his lips off of yours so that he could litter your neck and chest in love-bites and marks that would be there long after this was over.

You arched into his touch, the feeling of his teeth along your skin. His hand that had been cupping your face now had a firm grip on your jaw, keeping your chin angled in a way that gave him the most access to the sensitive skin of your neck. You didn’t fight it, helpless to do anything but whine and pant, hands tugging at his hair so that you could feel the vibrations of his moans along the column of your throat.

If things had been different, you could’ve spent hours doing just this—just the touching and teasing. The game and the chase of it all. But the invisible clock that hung over the two of you was ticking, and reality was going to set back in sooner than you wanted. You wanted him one more time in earnest before you lost him again.

“Bucky,” you whimpered.

Then he was over you, looking down into your eyes. His expression was half-arousal, half-worry, like he thought this was going to be the moment when the other shoe dropped, when you decided that this was too bad of an idea to continue.

You pulled lightly down on his bottom lip with the pad of your thumb. “I wanna feel you inside me.”

Your words, the desperation in your voice, it nearly rendered Bucky a puddle on the floor. He couldn’t conjure up a single word to say, but he didn’t have to. Instead, he quickly pulled your shorts down your legs and tossed them off to the side. He felt the way you were pushing down on the waistband of his and the breathy laugh he let out only lasted for a moment before he realized you got them halfway down his thighs. You were too needy to wait any longer, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him into you.

Bucky lined himself up at your entrance, sliding in as you wound your legs tighter around him. Your lips crashed against his in a bruising kiss as you reveled in the sensation of him pushing into you. Your moaned and gasped into his mouth at the return of the familiar sensation, your nails clawing at his back because you had to get it out of you somehow.

He left a trail of kisses along your jaw up to your ear. His voice was low as he egged you on, coaxing more out of you as he started to thrust into you. He missed this, the way you felt, the way you sounded. He missed your moans and the way you said his name, the way you asked for more, harder, don’t stop, like he was a man who would ever tell you no. He missed telling you how good you feel, like you were made for him. He missed telling you how pretty you look when he’s fucking you.

He missed everything else, too, but for now this was what he could have. And he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.

Your legs were trembling around his waist and he knew that you were close. He wasn’t far behind you. He didn’t stand a chance from the start. Then your teeth sunk into the skin where his neck met his shoulder and the last of his resolve went out the window. His thrusts became harder, faster. His face was buried in the crook of your neck when you came, and he etched the way you cried out his name into his memory.

Even in your blissful daze, you could still feel that he was getting close. You felt the way his hips began to tense and stutter. You could also feel the way that has was trying to pull out. You were a pliant mess beneath him but you still had enough strength in you to grip onto his hips and pull him towards you.

He shook his head. “I—”

“Please,” you begged, words slurred with lust, “Jus’ wanna feel you again.”

The neediness in your tone and the pout of your lips did him in. He spilled into you, continuing to thrust until after he was spent. He collapsed on top of you, still buried inside you as he rested his head on your chest. Your heart was thumping at a rabbit’s pace against his cheek, and all he had it in him to do was close his eyes and soak it in.

Neither of you said anything as you tried to catch your breath. Bucky slid his arms underneath you, hands on your back as he kept himself pulled tight to you. You had one hand flat on Bucky’s back between his shoulder blades, the other toying idly with the messy locks of hair that you could reach.

This would usually be the time when one of you started the, “You okay?” conversation, but it felt like there was too much to unpack for that question now. Instead, Bucky tilted his head and looked up at you, giving a slight raise to his eyebrows. You got the hint giving a tiny nod to let him know that, given the circumstances of it all, right now you were fine if he was fine.

He relaxed then, letting his head drop back to your chest again. You settled back into the pillow that you’d originally brought out for him to use. Eventually, when you caught your breath, you’d head back to your own bedroom. But for now, there was comfort in the cramped quarters of the couch.

When you woke up the next morning, it was to the light coming through your living room windows. You let out a tiny groan, wiping at your eyes as you tried to register your surroundings. You were on the couch, blanket draped over you. Alone. And that’s when the night before rushed back over you all at once.

Sitting up, you looked around the apartment. Your clothes were folded and left neatly on the coffee table, but Bucky’s were nowhere to be found. Glancing over to the kitchen, you saw the two coffee mugs from the night before washed and left to dry in the drainboard. Then you looked down at the floor beside you and noticed that Bucky’s backpack was gone. Just like him.

(divider by @silkholland 💞)

MCU Taglist (please let me know if you want to be added to any of my taglists!): @garbinge @artemiseamoon @late-to-the-party-81 @beardburnsupersoldiers @blackhawkfanatic

[punkshort]

Roommates | 3. fun in the sun

Pairing: pornstar!joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Maria organizes a getaway to Lake Travis for a long weekend. You invite your new boyfriend, but things quickly deteriorate, leaving Joel to help you pick up the pieces.

Chapter Warnings: language, smoking cigarettes, alcohol consumption, flirting, sexual tension, jealousy, mutual pining, smut (18+ MDNI), semi-pubic sex, fingering, hand job, description of a panic attack, heartbreak, food consumption, golf

WC: 8.4K

Series Masterlist

Charlie was cute.

Well, cute didn't seem like the right word, and handsome sounded too stiff. But he was both those things and more. You discovered he was also very dapper when you met him for lunch one day during work. He wore a perfectly tailored dark blue suit with a crisp white shirt. One button was left open at the top, revealing a sliver of his tanned skin underneath. You almost felt out of place wearing what you thought was one of your nicer dresses when he took you to some steakhouse you never heard of that didn't have the prices on the menu and you began to wonder how he didn't own a home yet since he appeared so successful.

"I never have the time to look, to be honest," he told you with a shrug. "Work keeps me busy during the week, and even some weekends. Then between grocery shopping and laundry and occasionally going to parties and meeting super pretty girls," he smiled with a wink and you giggled, "I just never find the time to house hunt."

"I guess I got lucky with Maria doing all the heavy lifting for me," you joked as you picked at the remains of your salad.

"Yeah, and she did a great job. It's a good starter house," he said with a nod before checking his phone.

"Mm, I don't know about starter. She was hoping to raise a family in that neighborhood one day. She really likes the schools."

Charlie made a little noise and you glanced up. "What?" you asked with a small smile.

"Nothing, it's nothing," Charlie said, setting his phone back down on the table. When you tilted your head and gave him a look, he sighed. "It's a fine area of town, I just personally would prefer to raise a family elsewhere."

"Oh, yeah? Like where?"

"Barton Creek would be great," he said, and you nearly choked on your drink.

"Barton Creek? That's like, so expensive," you laughed but his mouth didn't twitch. Your smile slowly fell and you said, "are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious. You wouldn't want to live there?"

You huffed and sat back in your chair. "Yeah, sure, in my dreams. But I could never afford something like that."

Charlie leaned forward and took your hand. "But one day, maybe you could. If you go back to school at night and really apply yourself, it would only take a few years-"

"I told you I'm not interested in becoming a lawyer," you said, smiling up as the waiter cleared your plates. "I'm happy doing what I'm doing right now."

"Well, I'm just saying. You're young, there's options out there. You should really give it some thought."

At the time, you thought Charlie was being sweet and encouraging by trying to help you reach your full potential, but you would later discover you were wrong.

"I want to get out of town for a bit," Maria said at family dinner one night. You all looked up at her, bracing yourselves for whatever she had already planned in her head. "What do you think about renting a spot on Lake Travis?"

She immediately clocked the table's hesitation. "Just a long weekend. Four days on the lake, get out of this heat and on the water. Doesn't that sound nice?"

"When?" Tommy asked, and Maria knew instantly she had won.

She gave him a few different options while he scrolled the calendar in his phone to look at his work schedule. Weekends were hard for Tommy and hit or miss with Joel, so she knew it would be a tough sell.

Tommy picked a weekend and Maria's eyes lit up. Joel was about to decline when you piped up and agreed to go and suddenly, he couldn't resist.

"Amazing!" Maria said, clapping her hands giddily. She picked up her phone and began to look at availability for lodging. "You can invite Charlie, too, of course," she added without looking up.

"Oh, right," you said, feeling stupid for not even considering him. "Yeah, let me see if he's free."

Joel's heart sank and he looked down at his food, pushing the pasta around on his plate while you texted that guy you've been seeing, completely unaware that it was tearing him up inside. He tried to not let it bother him and he thought he was doing a really good job so far, but he wasn't sure how he would be able to handle four days in the same house, watching him touch you and kiss you and make you laugh. All the things he wanted to be doing, and more, but couldn't.

"He can come for Saturday and Sunday but he has to work Friday and Monday," you announced. Okay, so two days of watching another man touch what should be his.

Maria spent the rest of the night planning the trip while Joel bit his tongue. Why couldn't Charlie take off work a month in advance? he wanted to ask. Doesn't he want to spend time with you?

But of course, he didn't say a word. He and Tommy listened as the two of you researched activities, restaurants and bars in the area and planned out the weekend, making sure to carve out enough time to relax on the beach because you knew that's what he and Tommy really wanted to do. Fuck, he couldn't wait to see you in a bikini.

"Aren't you excited?" you asked him when Tommy and Maria headed up to bed.

"'Course I am."

"You don't seem like it. I thought this would be right up your alley."

"Oh, yeah?" he asked, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees. "Why's that?"

You grinned and settled back into the couch. "Girls on the beach, obviously. Dripping wet from the water or sweating from the heat. I thought you would be more excited."

"I am," he said, leaving out that he was excited to see you dripping wet from the water or sweat. You hummed and stretched out your legs on the couch.

"Feel like watching a movie?" you asked, and he quickly nodded.

He knew it was pathetic but he couldn't help it. Any amount of time you wanted to spend with him alone, he would take. And when you curled up under a blanket and shoved your feet underneath his thigh while you watched the TV, it took everything in him not to pull you into his lap and press his lips against yours.

Because you were spoken for. And that would be wrong.

It was so fucking hot.

The day you left for the lake, the temperature was close to record breaking and all of you had to admit once you were in the comfort of the air conditioned truck that Maria's plan to get out of town was truly inspired. And once you arrived at the house you rented, you had to give Maria even more credit because the place was stunning.

It was a two story cabin with four bedrooms, a spacious living area and a kitchen behind it. The walls were all made of wood, stained a dark cherry for ambiance while the house sat a mere ten minute walk to the beach.

"Oh my god, this place is so cool," you said softly as you walked around the upper level, checking out each bedroom. It was hard to choose, they were all equally beautiful and had great views of the small forest around you, so you didn't mind when Tommy and Maria picked the master suite. Each room had its own charm.

The first evening you were there, you decided to go to dinner and then hit up a bar nearby, just the four of you. Charlie had planned on arriving sometime the next morning and then you would head to the beach, where you would spend a majority of the day getting tan and drinking whatever was coldest from the cooler you brought from home.

"Okay, do not even start that shit with me, Joel! You know I have a fear of heights! I'm not going anywhere near that fucking thing!"

He laughed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you walked down the boardwalk behind Tommy and Maria.

"It ain't even that high! It's just a goddamn ferris wheel!"

"I don't care, I'm not going on it. You guys can go and have a lovely time. I will stay down here, safe on the ground where I can't plummet to my death."

"C'mon, now. You know I won't let anythin' bad happen to you," Joel said, his voice dropping an octave lower as he pulled you in closer, the alcohol coursing through both your veins began to call the shots when you leaned into his hold.

"And what are you gonna do, Joel, if the thing breaks and I'm stuck up there? Do you have some superpowers I'm not aware of?"

"No, I think you're aware of all my superpowers," he teased, making you blush and shove him away with a laugh. "But I know I could distract you. Help keep your mind off it til help arrives."

You stumbled a bit as you laughed harder, Tommy and Maria leaving you behind when they spotted an ice cream stand.

"Yeah, I bet you would. Telling me shitty jokes or more stories of how you tormented Tommy on the school bus?"

Joel grinned and grabbed your hand, yanking you into him again as you continued to walk past various bars and restaurants packed with tourists.

"Both would work, I'm sure of it, but I had somethin' else in mind," he said without thinking, getting too carried away in the moment. It felt too good, it felt so natural as you walked with your fingers linked together around your shoulders and your head leaning against the side of his chest.

"Oh yeah? Like what?" you giggled, then hiccuped, then giggled again. Why did you have to be so fucking cute?

He opened his mouth to say something he would probably regret in the morning, then bit his tongue when you looked up at him curiously. You saw the look in his eye and you cleared your throat, leaning away from him when you realized how inappropriate the two of you must have looked.

"Maybe I'll try the smaller one," you said, trying to steer the conversation back after the awkward moment.

"Nah, I'm just teasin' you. Don't do anythin' you ain't comfortable with," he told you, making you smile right as you caught up with Tommy and Maria. He loved making you smile.

"You guys wanna head back?" Tommy asked, tossing a handful of used napkins in a nearby trash can.

"Yeah, I should probably get to bed. Charlie's getting here early tomorrow and he wanted to try to get a hike in before the beach," you said, pulling your phone out to see if you had any missed texts from him. Joel swallowed and looked away.

"A hike? Since when are you a hiker?" Maria said with a laugh. You shrugged and grinned before looping your arm with hers, heading back in the direction of the house.

"Charlie must really like her," Tommy said as he walked side by side with Joel, both of them watching you and Maria giggling and poking each other in the ribs. "Always took him for a workaholic. Surprised he would be interested in coming out here."

Joel frowned before lighting up a cigarette. "It's the weekend. Didn't think he worked on the weekends."

"Oh, he doesn't, but he likes to put in extra time. Always chasin' that next promotion. Always been that way."

Joel exhaled a puff of smoke before replying. "How'd you know him again?"

"Used to work at the bar with me, if you can believe it," Tommy said, "but it was just somethin' to keep money in his pocket while he finished school. He was always a hard worker, even behind the bar. Real focused, y'know? Wasn't surprised at all when he got a job right outta college with that finance company."

Joel took another drag from his cigarette and allowed his gaze to drift to the curve of your ass in your shorts, knowing that the darkness would give him cover. "And you stayed friends all these years? Doesn't sound like you got much in common."

Tommy shrugged. "He's a nice guy and fun to hang out with when he lets loose. Used to be a good wingman back in the day. But he's the type of guy who's real driven. Sets his sights on a goal and will do whatever it takes to get it. I think his parents put alotta pressure on him growin' up."

Joel nodded and flicked his cigarette onto the pavement as they walked up the driveway to the house. He should be happy for you. It sounded like Charlie was a catch but he couldn't stop from comparing himself to your boyfriend. Even if he quit his job tomorrow and started over doing something normal, he would never reach the level of success Charlie had.

He didn't stand a chance in hell.

Maria was right. You were decidedly not a hiker. But Charlie seemed so excited to explore the area and you were just so grateful he took time out of his busy schedule to spend an entire weekend with you that you felt compelled to agree.

At least he gave you a great view of his muscular back as you trailed behind him, your legs ready to give out from the exertion any minute.

"I bet you made so much money as a bartender," you told him. He turned around and shot you a smirk.

"You checking me out back there?"

"Can you blame me?" you giggled.

"It's beautiful out here, babe," he said once you reached a high point with a clearing. He took a swig of water while you caught your breath. "Thanks for inviting me. I've never been out this way before."

"Really?" you asked in disbelief, "it's not that far from the city."

"Yeah, well, you know how it is," was all he said. You sat down on a fallen tree and stretched out your legs while Charlie took a few pictures of the view.

"Isn't Joel seeing anyone he could have invited this weekend?" Charlie asked out of the blue. You paused for a moment, taken off guard at the thought of Joel with a girlfriend. Something you never really considered before.

"Uh, I don't think he's seeing anyone serious," you replied.

Charlie chuckled and sat down next to you. "He's a bit of a fifth wheel, don't you think?"

Your face twisted up in disapproval when you looked at him. "Not at all. He's, like, part of our family. If anything-"

You stopped yourself before finishing your sentence but it didn't matter. Charlie furrowed his brow and glared at you.

"What? If anything, I'm the fifth wheel?"

"I didn't say that."

"But you were about to."

You sighed and rubbed your eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. It's just because we all live together, that's all."

He scoffed and stood up, brushing off the back of his shorts before picking up his water bottle from the ground.

"We should head back," he grumbled as the guilt settled deep in your chest. You stood and wrapped your fingers around his bicep.

"Wait, come here," you said softly. He sighed and hung his head before turning around to face you. "I'm sorry. Really. I am," you reached up to cup his face and pressed your lips tenderly against his. You felt him relax into your touch and you smiled against his lips. "Can I make it up to you later?" you asked suggestively, and Charlie laughed.

"I'll hold you to it," he said with a playful swat on your ass. You squeaked and he grabbed your hand. "Let's get back. I wanna go to the beach and relax with you."

"That sounds amazing," you said dreamily as you followed him back the way you came, grateful the trail was now downhill.

Joel didn't like Charlie.

And it wasn't because he had his hands all over you the entire fucking day, but that didn't help matters. He tried to keep an open mind, he really did, but something about him just felt off. It clicked with Joel later when he noticed Charlie had encouraged you to cover up your bikini before heading over to the bar to grab some drinks, even though they had brought plenty to share in the cooler. You had initially protested, laughing him off when you thought he was joking, but gave in when you realized he didn't want other men staring at you at the bar.

Charlie was trying to control you and you didn't even realize it.

Those chips are terrible for you, babe. Try these instead. They're baked.

You gotta reapply sunscreen after swimming. Don't you know that, babe?

What are you reading that trash for? You gotta let me broaden your horizons, babe.

Babe. Babe. Babe. Babe.

It was really getting under Joel's fucking skin.

"You're so quiet today," you said, plopping down next to him after spreading out a towel on the sand.

"Am I?"

You gave him a look and grinned. "Yeah. What's up with you? Did you not sleep good or something?"

Joel shrugged and looked out at the water, grateful his sunglasses were able to disguise his feelings on that particular day. "Not really."

You hummed and regarded him silently for another moment before lying flat on your back, stretching yourself out to bask in the sun's warm rays. You took off your sunglasses and closed your eyes with a contented sigh while he fought the urge to stare at your perfect body so goddamn close to him.

He forced himself to scan the beach, looking for anything to keep his mind off your soft skin coated in a thin sheen of sweat just within an arm's reach. He felt a stirring below his waist when he imagined running his tongue between your breasts, licking up the sweat collecting there.

"Everything okay?" you asked when Charlie reappeared, his phone in hand. Joel shifted and tried to subtly rest his book over his crotch.

"Yeah, just a quick work call. Hey Joel, I think that girl's checking you out," Charlie said, sitting down in the sand next to you.

Joel resisted the urge to roll his eyes and forced himself to be nice. For your sake.

"Oh yeah? Where?"

"The one in the white bikini. Blonde hair, big tits."

You whipped your head in Charlie's direction, unable to keep the shock from your tone when you whispered his name in disbelief. Joel tried not to watch but he could tell you were offended and he hardly blamed you. Who says that in front of their girlfriend?

"Not really my type," Joel said, settling back in his chair and closing his eyes.

"Not your type?" Charlie scoffed, and Joel cracked open one eye, once again grateful for his sunglasses because he caught you trying to silently shut Charlie up, but he continued to ignore you. "If she's not your type then who is?"

Your fucking girlfriend is my type, asshole, he wanted to say. Instead he just shrugged and hoped he would drop it.

He didn't.

"Come on, why don't you at least try to talk to her. Maybe invite her to dinner tonight. Then it would be all couples for once."

"Charlie," you hissed, a little louder this time. "He's not interested. Leave him alone."

"What's the problem? You were just saying earlier how you wished Joel would find a girl. I'm just trying to give him a little encouragement," Charlie said with a smirk. Your mouth fell open and you shook your head but it was too late. Joel's heart plummeted into his stomach and the familiar sting of rejection crept up his throat, strangling him. If you were privately telling Charlie you wanted him find someone, that must mean you were really over him, and whatever foolish shred of hope he was clinging to was all for nothing.

"I never said that! Joel, I'm so sorry," you said, scrambling up from the sand and turning on Charlie angrily. "Why would you-"

"It's fine," Joel said curtly, standing up and brushing the sand off his swim trunks. "You're right. I'm gonna go talk to her."

You twisted your neck to look up at him, your mouth opening and shutting as you struggled to come up with something to say.

"Y-yeah. I mean... go for it," you stammered and watched as Joel made his way across the beach. Even from a distance you could see the girl's face light up as he approached and you felt a pit form in your stomach.

"Why would you lie to him like that?" you asked Charlie with a scowl. He grinned and settled back into his chair with a book.

"I just had a feeling if a close friend motivated him, he would do it. Poor guy needs to get laid."

Fortunately you could blame the heat from the sun on your reddening cheeks. Charlie had no idea what Joel really did for work. You always skirted around the question whenever it was brought up because deep down, you knew Charlie would have a problem with it.

You slipped your sunglasses back on with a sigh and crossed your arms, still pissed off with Charlie but not in the mood to get into an argument. You tried not to stare as Joel flirted with the girl in the white bikini. She leaned into him and playfully shoved his shoulder with a giggle and your chest tightened when you saw him thread his fingers together with hers and lead her towards the bar.

You had absolutely no right to get jealous. Joel wasn't your boyfriend for that exact reason: jealousy. You had your own boyfriend who was very smart, handsome and successful. And sure, sometimes Charlie pushed you into doing things out of your comfort zone, but he was trying to help you grow as a person. So if he was so great, why did you spend so much time thinking about Joel?

Chelsea was sweet, in her late twenties, got her degree in economics and also spent the better part of half an hour subtly rubbing her ass against Joel's hips at the bar. It was crowded, being right on the beach, and getting louder and rowdier as the afternoon dragged on. At first, Joel thought it was an accident, that the crowds of people forced her to press up against him. But he soon discovered it was quite intentional when she ducked her hand under the bar to rub his cock through his swim trunks.

"Whoa, what're you doin' down there?" he chuckled. She beamed up at him innocently.

"Feel like going for a swim?" she asked. He thought she was ignoring his question until they got in the water, swimming out a ways where it was quiet, but not too deep. Chelsea glanced around before wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her mouth against his, wasting no time slipping her tongue past his lips with a soft moan.

"I recognized you," she admitted, dragging her mouth down the column of his throat and dipping her hand below the water. He hissed when she slid past his waistband and wrapped her hand around his cock.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mhmm," she said with a mischievous grin, her fist languidly stroking him up and down where nobody could see. "You're in dirty movies."

He laughed and squeezed her hips, encouraging her to come closer to him.

"You got me."

Even though she had her hand down his shorts in the middle of a lake surrounded by people enjoying a hot summer day, he had to admit that Charlie was right about her. She was sexy and charming and he liked how confident she was. She also seemed more than okay with his profession, which thrilled him. Maybe this was something that could actually work.

The first red flag came when he had two fingers curled inside her and she murmured I bet I feel better than those girls you have to fuck, huh?

It took him off guard for a moment but he shrugged it off, thinking it was just an idea that turned her on, so he told her yeah, so tight, baby.

The second red flag was when she asked are you gonna think about me next time you're at work?

His hips stuttered a bit underwater and he could feel the mental block building up. He tried kissing Chelsea to keep her from talking but it was too late, so instead he focused all his energy on getting her off with his fingers. Her grip loosened around his cock when she came, her moans muffled against his mouth. She grabbed at his shoulders desperately as her muscles went lax and he whispered I got you and held her against his chest until she caught her breath.

Over Chelsea's shoulder he could see you and Charlie on the beach. It was far away but he could spot you anywhere. While Chelsea murmured into his skin and raked her fingers through his hair, his eyes were pinned on you. You were standing up and brushing the sand off your legs, your perfect ass sticking out when you bent over in that hot pink bikini that was driving him fucking crazy all day.

Chelsea's hand was wrapped around his cock again, the mental block disappearing the longer he watched you. He groaned when you began to rub sunscreen into your arms, your tits bouncing with each and every movement. Chelsea took that as a sign to go faster. She whispered in his ear how big he was and before he even had a chance to stop it, his mind was imagining you saying that, instead. He remembered how nervous you were but then how you begged for his cock and his hips began to thrust into her hand underwater. Then, his breath caught in his throat when he watched you untie your bikini top, your arm holding the tiny pieces of fabric against your chest as the strings hung loose and you positioned yourself face down on the towel to tan in the sun.

"Fuck," Joel groaned, his cock pulsing in Chelsea's hand as he came. His breath was ragged and he fought to stand up in the water and not succumb to sinking to the bottom of the lake. She seemed to sense his struggle because she whispered in his ear let's go back.

As he swam to shore, the guilt began to wash over him for thinking about you when he was with another girl. That wasn't his intention at all. It was disrespectful to both you and Chelsea. But you were directly in his eyeline and he couldn't seem to stop himself. He could do better. He would do better.

"Hey, what're you doin' for dinner? A few of my friends are all goin' to this Italian place-"

"Oh," Chelsea said, cutting him off in surprise when they finally made it to the beach. "I'm sorry, thank you, but I have plans tonight."

He was a little disappointed but he knew giving a girl he just met a couple hours notice to go to dinner was asking a lot. "Don't worry 'bout it. Can I get your number? Maybe we can meet up tomorrow?"

Chelsea gave him a disbelieving look as she adjusted her swimsuit. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, 'course I am. I'd like to get to know you better," he said with a lopsided grin. She laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of her neck and that was when Joel felt the uneasiness settle deep in his chest.

"I'm sorry, Joel. I thought this was just a hook up," she said, biting her lip and glancing around the beach. He could feel the smile fall from his face but he cleared his throat, trying to hide his disappointment.

"Y-yeah, sure, I get it."

"I mean, you're really sweet and all, it's just... you know," she said with a little shrug. He swallowed and nodded. He knew. You can't take a pornstar home to meet your parents.

"Maybe I'll see you around?" he said, and Chelsea nodded. She kissed him goodbye and he watched as she made her way down the beach towards her group of friends, who had been watching with great interest.

He was living every man's dream and he couldn't feel shittier about it.

He didn't want to just hook up with random girls anymore. It was fun when he was in his twenties but now it just felt pathetic. He sighed and turned his head in your direction. Charlie looked like he had dozed off in his chair while you were still laying face down with your eyes closed on your towel, your smooth skin coated with a sheen of sweat, pinkening under the sun's rays.

As he began to walk back towards the pair of you, he spotted Tommy and Maria making their way over from the opposite side of the beach, having done their own excursion for a couple hours that day and promised to catch up with the rest of you before dinner.

Joel was relieved. At least there would be a buffer.

Admittedly, Joel drank a little too much at dinner. He was still a little bothered by his afternoon with Chelsea, but he would have gotten over it had Charlie not picked at the scab every chance he got. First, he ribbed him about not being able to seal the deal when he showed up to dinner alone, but Joel just politely laughed it off. Then, as dinner progressed and the table was on their third round, Charlie began to point out girls around the restaurant who looked like they could be single, asking Joel if he thought they were his type with a teasing lilt to his voice.

You hadn't really been paying attention. You were too engrossed with something Maria was saying, leaning across the table excitedly as the thin strap of your sundress slid down your shoulder. Your skin was practically glowing from the sun, your eyes sparkled when you giggled with Maria and Joel was finding it more and more difficult to keep his gaze off you. Charlie either didn't notice or care. His arm was resting along the back of your chair, his thumb brushing against your back or your arm while he explained to Tommy the Chelsea backstory. Tommy's eyes flickered back and forth between Charlie and Joel, providing a few forced chuckles at his teasing, then changed the subject the first chance he got.

"What d'we wanna do tonight?" he had asked, breaking up your private conversation at the other end of the table.

"Why don't we hit the boardwalk?" Charlie offered, tossing back the rest of his old fashioned.

"We did that last night," you said.

"It's my only night here, babe. I wanna check out the rides and shit."

Joel's jaw tensed and he looked down at the table.

Of course, everyone agreed, so once dinner was over they all strolled down the sidewalk towards all the bright lights, the intoxicating smell of sugar and the sound of carnival games in the air. Charlie spotted the Ferris wheel and snatched your hand.

"C'mon, babe, let's check it out!"

You stopped dead in your tracks, making him spin around in surprise. "I don't like heights, I'll just wait-"

"Oh, come on! It'll be romantic," Charlie murmured suggestively, pulling you into his chest and pinching your chin. Joel hurriedly walked past to catch up with Tommy and Maria, unable to stand there and watch him kiss you. He knew he was being unreasonable. He knew he had to get his jealousy under control or else it would drive a wedge between the two of you and he couldn't possibly risk that. You meant far too much to him. So, he tried to distance himself for the remainder of the night. He hung out with Tommy and Maria, checking out various shops, getting candied apples and playing games while he forced himself to not look over his shoulder and seek you out.

Looking back on it, he probably shouldn't have gotten that beer and shot at the bar after Tommy and Maria ducked into a photo booth. His head was already swimming from the drinks at dinner but he really didn't want to be awake later to hear you and Charlie through the walls.

Tommy and Maria found him after the photo booth and showed him the strip of pictures, laughing at some of the props and faces they were making when Maria suggested they take a ride on the ferris wheel since it would likely be their last chance. Joel told them he would just wait, not wanting to admit the mere thought of those little cars swaying back and forth made his stomach churn with the amount of alcohol he had drank that night.

He was smoking a cigarette and scrolling on his phone, sitting on a bench near the ferris wheel after Tommy and Maria had gotten in line when he heard you. The panic in your voice sent a jolt of fear down his spine and he jumped up, flicking his cigarette on the ground as he whipped his head back and forth, searching for you. Finally, he spotted you pushing your way through the crowds of people in front of the ride, your face red and soaked with tears. His heart sank and he rushed over just as Charlie emerged a few seconds behind you. When he reached out to touch your arm, you yanked it back so forcefully that you fell on your hands and knees, scraping your skin against the hot blacktop.

Joel called your name and you looked up frantically, your chest heaving. You reached out a shaky arm towards him and he immediately pulled you up off the ground, his eyes raking up and down your body, assessing you for damage. Aside from some red scrapes on your hands and knees from the fall, you appeared fine, but you clawed at his arms and gasped I can't breathe and his heart began to slam wildly in his chest. He held you up against him and twisted around, trying to spot a paramedic when Charlie waved you both off with a dry laugh.

"Bro, she's fine, she just got scared on the ferris wheel."

"She's not fine, fuckin' look at her!" Joel yelled, turning a few heads, but he didn't care. He dropped his gaze to your face, cupping your jaw and wiping your tears away. "You're alright. Hey, c'mon, you can do this. Take a deep breath in through your nose, like this. Watch-" he inhaled deeply and you did the same through clenched teeth, then he exhaled slowly, pursing his lips as you continued to follow his lead. He did it a few more times until the tears stopped and your color returned to normal.

"You alright?" he asked softly, brushing your hair away from your face. You nodded and looked around for somewhere to sit. He seemed to read your mind because he led you by the elbow towards the bench he vacated. Giving you a chance to catch your breath, he turned on Charlie.

"What the fuck, man? Why'd you make her go on that goddamn thing?"

His nostrils were flaring and he could feel the anger bubbling up into his chest.

"I didn't force her to do anything," Charlie said with a frown. "She's a fucking adult, she made her own decision-"

"Because you fuckin' pressured her!" Joel shouted, taking a menacing step forward. "I heard her tell you she was afraid of heights so don't bullshit me."

Charlie's hand clenched into a fist and his jaw tensed. "Why don't you mind your own fucking business before I knock you on your ass?"

"Is that a threat?" Joel countered, closing the distance between him and Charlie, staring him dead in the eye as he waited for him to make a move.

You shoved yourself off the bench and quickly wedged yourself between the two men, a palm pressed against each of their chests, pushing them apart. "Stop it, please," you begged, "I just wanna go back to the house."

They stared each other down for another moment before Charlie looked away with a scoff. He grabbed your hand and muttered something under his breath as he began to lead you away, but when you passed by Joel, you stopped.

"Thank you," you told him softly. You reached out to grab his hand and gave it a grateful squeeze. He nodded and forced a small smile before Charlie tugged on your other hand. Joel watched until the two of you disappeared into the crowd before he sighed and collapsed back onto the bench. He raked his fingers through his hair, trying to get his temper under control when Tommy and Maria walked over, hand in hand with huge grins on their faces.

"You missed such a great view, Joel," Maria said, then looked around the boardwalk, asking where he thought you and Charlie went.

"Back to the house," was all Joel said before gruffly standing up and lighting another cigarette to help with the burst of adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

Joel managed to calm down by the time the three of them arrived back at the house. He replayed what he had said and done over and over and just hoped that you didn't hold it against him. It didn't seem like you were pissed with him when you left but he knew his actions just made the next day incredibly awkward, so Joel decided once he saw Charlie in the morning, he would apologize.

When he walked by your closed bedroom door, it was quiet with the exception of the water running in the bathroom. He slipped into his own bedroom down the hall, then turned on the TV and fell asleep.

He slept in a little later than he intended but he had a hunch he wasn't the only one. It seemed like everyone had a little too much to drink the night before and from the sound of the plates and silverware clinking together in the kitchen below, everyone was getting a slow start to the day.

"Mornin'," Joel mumbled to Tommy, who was sitting at the table, rubbing his eyes over a steaming cup of coffee. He glanced up and nodded in return before bringing the mug to his lips and taking a sip.

"Need help with anythin'?" Joel asked Maria who was busy cracking eggs. She laughed and shook her head.

"Go sit down. You look like you feel about as shitty as your brother."

Joel didn't need to be told twice. He sat down next to Tommy with a grunt, his hands curling around his own cup of coffee, blankly staring down at it, hoping it would bring him back to life.

"Hey," Tommy whispered, eyeing Maria from across the room who was busy gathering things from the fridge. Joel leaned forward and arched an eyebrow. "Charlie left real early this mornin'. I heard a car door slam and noticed his car's gone when we got downstairs."

"Shit," Joel muttered, glancing over at Maria quickly, making sure she didn't notice them gossiping about her best friend.

"Think they got in a fight or somethin'?" Tommy asked, but right as Joel opened his mouth to tell him the details of what happened the night before, Maria bounced over to them with a plate in each hand.

"I'm gonna go wake them up," she said, turning on her heel. Joel gave Tommy a curious look and he just shrugged.

"Didn't tell her," was all he said, then rolled his wrist in the air. "Tell me before they come down."

Joel managed to give Tommy the bullet points then began quickly shoveling eggs into his mouth when they heard Maria descending the steps. She entered the kitchen with her hands on her hips, looking concerned.

"What's up, baby?" Tommy asked innocently. She swiveled her finger around in the air as the gears turned in her head.

"Charlie left."

They both did a good job of acting surprised as Maria sat down with her own plate of food and with a hushed voice, told them you were upset and didn't want to come down for breakfast.

"Did they break up?" Joel asked, realizing too late that he sounded a little too eager, but Maria didn't seem to pick up on it. She was biting her nail, worried about you and trying to figure out how to navigate the rest of the day.

"I think so."

Conflicted was the only word to describe what Joel felt in that moment. He really didn't like Charlie but he hated the idea that he could be partially responsible for your pain.

After they finished eating, Maria checked the time and tapped her foot. "I think I should cancel the zip-line, Tommy," she said, "I don't want to leave her here all alone." Maria had planned for her, Tommy and Joel to zip-line over the beach, overlooking the lake. Knowing your fear of heights, she had intentionally picked that day, expecting you and Charlie to spend some alone time together.

"I'll stay, you two go," Joel said immediately, picking up their plates and heading to the sink.

"Are you sure?" Tommy asked, and Joel nodded.

"I'm not exactly in the best shape to be flying through the air, anyway."

"And I am?" Tommy replied, but Maria shoved his shoulder and put her finger to her lips behind Joel's back while he scrubbed the plates. "Uh, yeah, thanks Joel. You let us know if you end up goin' out and we'll meet up."

Joel stayed downstairs, alternating between going on his phone or watching TV. When it got closer to noon and you still hadn't come down, he began to worry. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a couple water bottles. Putting them on the counter, he scoured the fridge and scratched his chin. He was always a terrible cook, so he gave up quickly and resorted to ordering a couple burgers for delivery before taking the waters upstairs.

He rapped two knuckles gently on the door, then heard some shuffling before your voice called out, inviting him in.

"Oh, sweetheart," he said sympathetically when he saw your puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. You sat up in bed and tried to run your fingers through your tangled hair before sighing and giving up.

"Leave it to me to get dumped on vacation."

He gave you a sad smile and held out a bottle of water, which you eagerly accepted. He sat down on the edge of your bed and watched as you drained almost the entire bottle, then handed you his. You thanked him and set both on the end table before turning your attention back on your television, which he hadn't even realized was on.

"Legally Blonde?"

"I wanted to laugh but I forgot she gets dumped in, like, the first twenty minutes."

Joel chuckled and leaned back against your headboard. "I'm so sorry. If it was 'bout last night-"

"It's not your fault," you sniffled, pulling the comforter up to your chin.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not yet."

He hummed and nodded, turning back to the television. He gave you all the time and space you needed, staying close by for the rest of the afternoon in case you wanted to talk, only leaving to get the burgers when they arrived. You ate them in your bed, grease dripping from your fingers and laughing at stupid movies until you felt good enough to get up and shower.

"You wanna go mini golfing?" you asked over your shoulder as you fixed your hair in the mirror. Joel cringed but agreed. He absolutely hated golfing, but for you, he would suffer through it. Especially considering your mood seemed to be improving.

"Lemme text Tommy and let 'em know where we're goin'," he said, pulling out his phone and following you out the door.

"Oh, let's just do our own thing tonight," you said, then cleared your throat when you realized how that sounded. "I mean, y'know, they probably want time to themselves, right?"

"Yeah, sure," Joel agreed, side eying you before hopping into the truck. You gave him directions to a mini golf course ten minutes away, then rolled down the window and stretched your arm out, the warm summer air slipping through your wiggling fingers. Even though the sun had set, the air was still so thick with heat it felt like you could grab it.

"It's so hot," you said, sliding out of the passenger seat once Joel parked the truck. You fixed your skirt; a flowy, white number that felt feather light against your thighs as you walked. Joel agreed and checked his phone, noticing a text from Tommy.

"Hold up," he said, and you twisted around, your tennis shoes crunching on the gravel parking lot.

We're gonna go to that Mexican place. 30 minutes.

"They're invitin' us to dinner," he told you without looking up.

"Tell him we already ate."

He nodded and tapped out a quick reply before pocketing the phone and approached the cashier.

"Two tonight?" she asked, smacking her gum between her teeth.

"Yes, but I'll pay for mine," you said, reaching for your wallet.

"Nuh-uh," Joel said with a frown, about to argue but the cashier spoke up first.

"It's date night. Two for the price of one."

Your cheeks felt hot at the insinuation that you were on a date with Joel, but you couldn't pass up the deal to play for half price. Glancing at him awkwardly, you shrugged and he slapped his card down with a cocky smirk.

"Alright, pick out your ball, but for the love of god don't pick the-"

"Oh, look at the hot pink one!" you exclaimed gleefully, snatching it up from the bucket. He groaned and buried his face in his hands. "What?" you giggled, shouldering him playfully as you admired your ball.

"It's just such a girl thing to do," he said with a grin, then leaned over to pick a neon yellow ball for himself.

"Well last I checked, I am a girl," you winked and headed towards the door, his gaze falling to your ass only once before getting himself together and following you.

"Shoulda known," he tsked once he caught up, "matches your bathing suit and everythin'."

Your stomach flipped and you felt your cheeks grow hot once again but you just laughed him off and approached the first hole. The course was packed with couples, no doubt taking advantage of the deal, so it was slow going. By the fifth hole, Joel grew impatient and plopped down on a bench.

"Giving up so soon?" you teased, and he huffed.

"I ain't a quitter, just waitin' for some of these people to play through. Sick of standin' around."

"You sure it's not because I'm beating you by six?" you grinned as you sat down next to him.

"I'm lettin' you win, darlin'. Tryin' to mend your poor, broken heart," he said, rolling his head to the side with a smirk.

"Eh, I don't think we were together long enough to say he broke my heart, but it still sucks," you sighed, playing with your golf ball in the palm of your hand.

Joel eyed you for a moment, trying to choose his next words carefully. "You ready to talk 'bout it, or-"

"I thought he was nice, y'know? Like, okay, he could be a little pushy sometimes, but I really thought he was just encouraging me to get out of my comfort zone."

Joel frowned and shifted his weight on the bench. "What'dya mean?"

"Like, professionally. He was encouraging me to go back to school so I could get a better job, but I like my job. And other things, too. The ferris wheel," you said, rolling your eyes, "told me I should face my fears and all that."

"You're better off without him," Joel said without even thinking. You laughed and glanced up at him through your lashes.

"You think?"

"'Course. You don't need someone to tell you how to live your life. If you like your job, then why change it? If you're afraid of heights, who cares? Seemed to me like he was tryin' to fix you, and from where I'm sittin', you're-" he cut himself off and looked down at his hands, chewing on the inside of his lip to keep himself from finishing his sentence.

You stared at him for a moment, watching something flicker across his face. "I'm... what?" you asked gently.

He shrugged and took a deep breath. You're perfect, he wanted to say, but instead he went with "you don't need fixin'."

You smiled shyly and poked him in the ribs, making him chuckle.

"Thank you, Joel. You managed to save me from wasting the last day of vacation moping around in bed."

He let you drag him up from the bench so you could continue playing the course, but your conversation kept replaying in his head, distracting him. Even though you weren't a fan of his job, you never once pressured him to find a different one. You accepted him for who he was and it bothered him that Charlie couldn't do the same for you.

Joel watched you with a smile as you bent your head and lined up your putter with your golf ball. A little crease formed between your eyebrows as you focused on the windmill eclipsing the sixth hole, trying to time it just right. How could anybody want to change you? You were so adorable and sweet and you deserved someone who would worship the ground you walked on.

A foolish thought popped into his head and he opened his mouth, about to ask you a question that could possibly change everything.

"What if-"

He cut himself off when you tapped the ball down the turf, both of you watching and holding your breath when your hot pink golf ball managed to avoid the blades of the windmill and dropped into the little plastic cup with a soft clink.

"Holy shit!" you exclaimed, garnering a few odd looks in your direction, but neither of you cared. You dropped your golf club and jumped into his waiting arms, letting Joel spin you around as you both laughed and he told you what a great job you did, deciding it was best he never finished his question, anyway.

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[shuastar]

Hey,can you write something about scoups one night stand ?

a/n: tumblr deleted everything i wrote so now im starting from scratch!! sorry about the delay finals and all.... i hate quarter systems with a passion

tumblr runs on a system of reblogs!! reblog/like/comment!! i <3 interacting

warnings: mdni, rich!seungcheol (implied), rich!reader (implied), lawyer!reader, virgin!reader (implied, kinda), daddy kink, multiple orgasms (implied), innocence kink (kinda implied), NSFW, wrap it before you tap it!!! (even though seungcheol doesn't!!!)

one night stand!seungcheol swears he doesn't usually do this -- get so drunken off someone's scent that he needs them viciously. he swears he's not the type -- and he isn't. he prefers a longer relationship, with commitments and sensual sex -- bed frame rocking gently against the hardwood floor of his penthouse, curtains of the giant windows set on do not disturb, the soft glow of his "sexy" yellow lights glowing against your skin. he swears that's the reason -- the reason his hands start to sweat, just a bit, when you step closer.

one night stand!seungcheol doesn't know how this happened. you were his best friend's sister. his fucking best friend's sister. you were supposed to be young, naive, innocent, kind, anything but the woman he was seeing in front of his eyes. anything but the woman with the low-cut dress and the elegant updo and the gorgeous, gorgeous smile that adorned your lipstick-painted lips.

one night stand!seungcheol remembers when you would drag his (shit-faced) best friend into your small studio apartment, throwing him on the pull-out bed. he remembers standing in the doorway, cheeks dusted a light red (from the cold, he told himself). he remembers you in a old oversized k-pop t-shirt and a random guy's boxers (he couldn't think about that for too long, lest he completely lost his shit), hair pulled back in a messy bun with glasses crooked on the bridge of your nose. he remembers your tired smile and dark eyebags as you half-heartedly invited him to also stay the night with a dry laugh. "aren't you too drink to be driving?" you would ask. he would shake his head no. he only had two drinks. it was mingyu that was out after his 12th soju-vodka-cranberry juice shot. "i'm fine. how're you holding up?" he tried to act nonchalant as he spied the law textbooks sprawled on the floor, disrupted by mingyu's loud movements. you gestured to the room. "as good as it'll get, i guess. wish mingyu could stop forgetting his own keys and coming to my place," you grumbled. seungcheol didn't have the heart to tell you that he secretly stole mingyu's keys because this would be the only way he could see your gorgeous tired face.

one night stand!seungcheol is in denial. he doesn't have time for this shit. he hasn't gone on a proper date in two years because all the girls he meets can't top his own work. being a ceo isn't a walk in the park. he has calls to answer and papers to sign and money to donate. he can't keep up a real relationship because every time he goes on a date, the woman leaves in the first thirty minutes and after he comes back from a five minute work call, the only thing he sees is the back of someone's dress. so why does your smile make his throat close up all of a sudden?

one night stand!seungcheol twitches, almost unconsciously when your fingers graze his biceps. your soft laughter fills his ears and your dizzying perfume (creed eau de parfum) fills the rest of his senses deliciously. he could eat you up. (metaphorically, of course). When you look up from your phone and see him across from you, your eyes crinkle and your lips lift in a smile. you and your senior prosecutor position in some law firm (he should know from many times mingyu's mentioned it, but he was too busy scrolling through your instagram posts). you and your twinkling eyes, gazing up at him like you knew exactly what he was thinking.

one night stand!seungcheol feels like a virgin around you. he's had sex before, he swears. but his knees buckle when the first of your begs leave your lips. you beg. you beg. you beg with doe-eyes, filled with unshed tears of frustration. you beg with pouted lips and if he had any less self control, he would have already kissed it off of you. "pplease?" you whisper, hands wrapping around his broad shoulders. you lay your head against his chest and he can feel your hot breaths fan over his pecs. "seungcheol, please? for me?" you beg, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. you were seducing him. and it was not working. you were his best friend's sister.

one night stand!seungcheol can't help but pull away, for a split second. "y'know i can't," he groans, as he sees your teary eyes and pouty lips, lipstick smudged at the corners from your makeout session only minutes prior. "fuck, don't look at me like that, baby," he rasps, arms wrapping around your silken waist. his hands squeeze at your hips, before creeping upwards towards your dress's falling neckline. "why?" you whine, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. he feels hot -- even with his belt unbuckled, shirt unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up dangerously high. your warm body tempts him so much -- the way you press yourself against him, the way you whine against his skin, the way you grasp for his attention. such a virgin, is his first thought. his perverted dangerous thought.

one night stand!seungcheol has to give in. it's you, for gods sake. how can he say no when you're sucking blues and purples against his neck? your hand roams the expanse of his muscled back, a breathy moan here-and-there as he gropes and sucks on your breasts, now free from the confines of your corsetted bodice. he's so addicted. he doesn't even have enough control to stop his hips bucking up against your fleeting touch. your other hand trails down and down -- down his chest, abs, stopping at the straining tent in his business slacks. your soft touches that scatter around his throbbing cock because you don't know.

one night stand!seungcheol curls into you when you finally take him out of his pants. "fuck, just like that," he groans into your ear, as your fingers wrap around his red-tipped cock, tip dribbling pearl precum into your hands. both of your clothes sit discarded on the floor, and you lay your head against his leg as your hands work their magic on his jupming length. one hand rests gently on your head, the other fisting your white hotel room bed sheets with a foreign ferocity. he's never seen you as anythign else but innocent, pure, perfect. but now, the only thought that float around his mind are perverted and horribly dangerous -- breedable, fuckable, devourable.

one night stand!seungcheol has to stop you in the middle of the best handjob because he doesn't want to cum on your face in five minutes flat. "fuck. c'mere, baby," he mumbles, easily lifting you off of your knees and into his lap, placing you gently on his thighs. his hand brushes stray pieces of hair stuck to your face away. he needs to see you. see your expression, your eyes, your pretty face. "you good?" he asks, just in case. just in case you were in a drunken stupor -- cock drunken stupor. just in case you weren't on the same page. just in case- "oppa," you moan gently, hips canting into his. your bare pussy rubs up against his cock and his grip on your waist tightens exponentially. "seungcheol oppa," you gasp as the tip of his length pokes and probs against your puffy clit, hungry for attention. "please. please, please, please. need it. wan' it. been wanting it. ever since-" you cut yourself off with a gasp as two of seungcheol's fingers swipe against your messy core, dripping with want for him. all of him.

one night stand!seungcheol needs to forcefully hold himself back. he needs to, or else he's afraid he'll rip your pussy open, because his cock isn't even halfway in and there are tears falling from your precious eyes. he mentally slaps himself at the way his cock hardens even more at the sight. "y' okay?" he grunts, biceps straining, breath coming out in pants at the tight grip of your pussy. you won't let up. "hurts," you cry, burying your head into his arms. "won't fit, oppa. can't- how- too big," you gasp as he pushes just a little bit more in. he needs to because it feels like you're cutting off his circulation, makign his brain fuzzy and shit.

one night stand!seungcheol rolls his hips into your experimentally. he's not ready for the pornographic moan of pleasure that escapes your opened lips. you're gone. already. you're gone and he knows because there are tears lining your waterline, your kiss-bitten lips are parted ever-so-slightly, your nails scratch down his back desperately, and your legs shake from their purchase around his waist. "y/n, fuck. fuck, y' feel s'good. so g-good for me. just f'me, yeah?" he mumbles in your ear, like you can hear him through your own tumbling moans. every sharp thrust he gives you feels like you can feel his cock in your ribs. none of you toys could compare. if anything, as soon as you got home, every single one of them was going into the trash. seungcheol's deft fingers crawl in between your bodies and rub small circles against your clit. "ah!" your hips buck uncontrollably and seungcheol groans as his hands pin your tratorious hips to the bed. a shaky laugh escapes his throat. "feel good, baby? tha' feel good f'you?" his fingers rub again, and you feel tingly -- like something was building up in your body. you can't help but writhe in his grasp, nails streaking red down his back. "fuck! oh my- oh- holy- da-" you cut yourself off with a muffled shriek as seungcheol pounds into you, fingers furious on your deprieved bud. your tears finally fall. down and down your cheeks. "shit, shit, shit," you moan and gasp, toes curling at this foreign feeling of pleasure. if you knew sex was this good you would've hooked up sooner.

one night stand!seungcheol's hips falter at your next words. "fuck, daddy, fuck me," you moan, throwing your head back against the pillows and your back arching so sexy off the bed. his arms wrap around your waist almost automatically. his hips cant into yours like on autopliot and the only thing that falters is his breath. you moan out a few more profanities, daddy being one of them. he can't believe his ears. you. calling him daddy. the thought of it alone sends another rush of arousal to his cock. and apparently that proved to be the breaking point of him because he lets out his loudest moan, catching himself before he falls on top of you, hips loosing their rhythm as he chases his high. "oh my g-god," he gasps, hands cupping your jaw. you're no better. "wanna cum, daddy," you cry, wrapping your arms around his neck. "wanna cum so bad, please, please, please. please let me cum -- wan' it. wan' yours. daddy, daddy, daddy..." you moan out the words like a fucking mantra. and he's on his breaking point. you cannot be real. you feel like a character out of his perverted fairy tale. "fuck, wan' my cum, princess?" he moans back. he has no idea what he's saying at this point. he's talking with his dick. 100%. "take it" he grunts, fingers desperate to bring you to your high before his last straw finally snaps. "fuckin' cum, baby. fuckin' cum and take mine like a good girl, yeah?" a couple more stuttered thrusts and he has you convulsing, almost not breathing, on the sheets, body tensing as you reach your third orgasm, shaking and moaning like a fucking porn star.

one night stand!seungcheol lets out a jumble of curse words as he goes right after you, body jerking as he empties out his creamy cum inside your pussy. his body falls on yours, the smell of sex and cologne wrapping around your spent form. he stays like that until you sniffle, hand going up to wipe at your eyes. "fuck, you okay?" he pushes off of you, sitting up to gently scan you for possible injuries. you let out a small laugh of disbelief, a smile curving itself into your lips. "m' fine. jus' sore. a little." you mumble, shying away from his gaze. a deep blush coats your cheeks as you look around for something to cover yourself with. seungcheol pulls you towards him, scooping you into his arms. "where you goin' huh?" his voice rumbles in his chest as he gives you a lopsided grin. "can't let my princess go off alone like this." you groan in embaressment. "i didn't mean to call you..." you trail off "...daddy," you whisper, burying your face in your hands as seunghcheol brings you to the bathroom, turning on the bath water.

one night stand!seungcheol can't help but stare at your sleeping face, gently caressing your jaw, arms, hips, waist, everything. he can't help but wonder what would have happened if he had just dated you to start with. his heart almost stops in its tracks when you turn towards him and inches closer, snuggling into his beefy embrace.

one night stand!seungcheol and you have to face the consequences of the night: your brother. but as your brother yells and pulls at his hair and blaches and walks into a glass wall, you and seungcheol stare at eachother, giddy lovesick smiles painted on your faces.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Blood, Not Family

Sam and Dean & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: set during 3x12, the boys get arrested and you’re left to fend for yourself with your abusive maternal family

Warnings: abusive family (no actual abuse shown), angst with a happy ending, the episode depiction isn’t exact because I don’t have it memorized

Everything was going wrong.

You and your brothers had been taken in by Agent Henrickson and the rest of the FBI, and you hadn’t seen Sam or Dean for hours. You were in an interrogation room, your brothers probably locked away in a holding cell, and there was nothing to do but wait. That is, until Henrickson himself came to talk to you.

“You’re not being charged with anything,” he informed you begrudgingly. “But I still have a few questions for you.”

You remained silent, unwilling to be cooperative.

“Your brothers—I’ve looked into it, and it seems like you were with your mother and half brother for several years before they kidnapped you.”

“They didn’t kidnap me,” you snapped, your desire to remain silent overrun by your need to defend your brothers.

“They have no legal right to you,” Henrickson countered.

“Just because they didn’t go through the stupid legal channels doesn’t mean that they had to kidnap me. Maybe that’s what it means to cops and fancy lawyers, but not to me—they saved me, they didn’t kidnap me.”

“Saved you?” Henrickson considered your words for a moment before moving on. “And dragging you around everywhere? You’re a kid, still in school, you must not have wanted to go. They forced you, didn’t they? Huh? Roughed you around when you didn’t want to go.”

“No!” You insisted. “Not Sam and Dean. They’ve never hurt me, they’d never do that.”

“We’re talking about murderers here,” Henrickson argued. “A few hits or punches to their little sister doesn’t seem out of character.”

“They. Are not. Killers. And they’d never hurt me,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Fine,” Henrickson sighed, convinced that he wouldn’t get anything else from you. “Well, your family will be here any minute to pick you up. Your brothers are going away, well…forever.”

“Wait.” Your head shot up, all the breath leaving your body at once. “Wait, wait, you can’t—“

Henrickson was gone before you could even protest.

…

“Oh, sweetheart!” The sound was so sweet it made your stomach churn. A face that you’d hoped beyond hope that you’d never see again was suddenly right there, opening the door and smirking at you for all the world to see as she marched towards you, arms outstretched.

“Don’t call me that!” You growled, backing away and cringing as the nickname that Dean so often called you was uttered by this horrible, horrible woman.

“They’re here to pick you up.” Henrickson entered behind your mother, and it took him only a moment to sense the tension in the room. “Is something wrong?”

“I’m not going home with her, I’m not! You can’t make me go with her!” You cried, turning your pleading towards Henrickson.

“Oh, listen to the poor thing, she’s still in shock,” your mother cooed. “Those horrible boys must’ve hurt her terribly to scare her so.”

“They didn’t do anything to me!” You insisted. “You did! They saved me!”

“Saved you? Oh poor poor girl, she’s got Stockholm syndrome.” Your mother tried again to reach out for you, but this time it was Henrickson who stepped in.

“I…I think you should wait in the lobby,” Henrickson said, stepping between you and your mother. “I have just a few more questions for her.”

“Well…well alright then,” your mother said hesitantly. “But please hurry. We’ve been waiting to get her back for so long.”

“Of course.” Henrickson ushered her out the door before turning to you.

“You can’t make me go with her, you just can’t!” You wouldn’t—couldn’t—calm down until you were sure that Henrickson would get rid of your mother.

“Ok, just calm down,” Henrickson sighed. “She…she hurt you, didn’t she.” It wasn’t a question, not really.

“Please don’t make me go back there,” you begged.

“I…I can try to stall so that I can think of what to do. She has legal custody, so it’s going to be hard, but I’ll try,” Henrickson said finally. “For now, come with me.”

You held your breath as Henrickson led you out of the room, unsure where he was taking you as he led you down the hall. Your breath came easy when he led you through one last door, and behind it lay a row of cells, your big brothers in the farthest one.

The boys’ faces lit up when they saw you, safe and sound. Henrickson unlocked their cell and let you in before turning and walking out the door to confront your mother.

“Hey sweetheart.” Dean’s greeting as he pulled you into a hug was much more welcome than your mother’s had been. “You ok?”

“She’s here,” you whimpered. “He brought her here to take me, Dean.”

“What?” Dean’s arms tightened around you as he looked over your shoulder at Sam. You’d told them all about your mother and step brother, and he knew who you were talking about without you having to say her name.

“That’s not gonna happen,” Sam promised. “We…we’re gonna figure something out, ok?”

“He said you’re going to jail.” You pulled away from Dean and looked up at him. “He said you both are going away forever.”

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” Dean promised, avoiding your comment about jail.

“You…you are going to jail,” you said, reading between the lines. You knew your brother well enough to know exactly what wasn’t saying. “No, no! I can’t let that happen!”

“None of us have a choice,” Sam cut in. “We just have to make sure that you don’t end up with your mom.”

“I’m not the only one that matters here!” You argued.

“You are to me,” Dean deadpanned. “There’s…” Dean swallowed, and you knew he was trying to keep up his tough exterior. “There’s not much hope for Sammy and me, kid. But I’m not gonna let that douche take you, I’m just not.”

“But—“

The flickering lights interrupted your protests. You looked up at them before turning to your brothers.

“That can’t be good.”

…

���Alright,” Sam said. “The plan is ready.”

Those flickering lights had turned out to be demons, and with a lot of convincing, the boys had gotten Henrickson on their side for the fight.

“This is ridiculous.” You cringed at the sound of your mother’s voice, finding yourself leaning closer to Sam almost subconsciously. “Demons? This is crazy! Those kidnappers should be locked up, and I should be leaving with my daughter!”

“Hey, if you wanna leave, you’re welcome to!” Dean thundered. “You wouldn’t make it ten feet before getting taken out by those demons, and that’s fine by me! But Y/N stays here. You haven’t earned the right to call yourself her family.”

“I’m her mother! And who are you? You’re barely even related to her!” Your mother argued.

“Blood isn’t the only thing that matters,” Sam growled. “And even if it did, she’s our sister—John is our father, too.”

“One absent father between the three of you can hardly compete with me, her mother,” she argued. “Besides, she has a big brother; one who isn’t a criminal.”

Your hand found Sam’s sleeve, and you gripped it tightly for comfort as your mother’s son—your step brother—smirked and stepped up next to your mother.

“He’s not my big brother!” You insisted. “He’s just your douchebag son that you let treat me like a punching bag!” You felt Sam’s hand find yours before he squeezed it, trying to help you calm down.

“Oh, so imaginative,” your mother huffed, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know where you get such ideas, your big brother hardly hurt you.”

“Hey!” Dean snapped. “You don’t get to talk to her, and you don’t get to call her a liar. You—“

“Dean.” Agent Henrickson interrupted. “Sam—it’s time, it’s now or never.”

“Well then it’s never,” your mother sniffed. “I don’t know what kind of trick these boys are pulling—“

“Those dead agents of mine aren’t a trick!” Henrickson roared. “Now I need you to stay out of the way and shut up so I can do my job!”

Your mother looked like she wanted to fight, but Dean set the plan in motion before she got the chance.

…

“It’s over,” you breathed. “We did it!” You launched yourself into Dean’s arms, and he chuckled as he ruffled your hair.

“We sure did, kid.” Dean pulled away from you as he faced Agent Henrickson. “So…”

“So Sam and Dean Winchester died in a helicopter explosion, along with two of my agents,” Henrickson interrupted. “Rest in peace, boys. And I better never see you again.”

You grinned widely as Sam and Dean both nodded appreciatively.

“Yes sir,” they said in near unison.

“Wait,” your mother spoke up. “What does this mean for me? They-they can’t take my daughter!”

“I’d like to see you stop us,” Dean scoffed, wrapping an arm around you protectively as he led you towards the door.

“Agent Henrickson!” Your mother squealed. “Stop them!”

“Stop who?” Henrickson asked innocently. “Sam and Dean Winchester are dead; it seems to me that your daughter is choosing to walk away from you on her own.”

“Yeah, right,” your step brother scoffed, stepping up to block your way.

Sam stepped in front of him, his frame towering over that of your step brother’s, and his chest heaving with angry breaths.

“You really want to do this, punk?” Sam challenged. “Not so hard when it isn’t a kid half your size, is it?”

Your step brother gritted his teeth as he stepped out of Sam’s way.

You turned for one last glance at your mother and step brother before Dean could lead you out the door.

“You may be related to me, but you were never my family,” you said. “And you will never see my face again.”

And with your brothers’ hands grasped in yours, you turned away from your relatives, and left with your family.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 18]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 3.7k

ao3 link

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

warning: canon typical violence || vomit

“Oh, kiss me, beneath the milky twilight. Lead me out on the moonlit floor, lift your open hand - Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance, silver moon's sparkling. So, kiss me.”

You hum along with the song playing quietly in your ear as you scrub the bathtub. It is one of your cleaning nights and you are focused on getting everything back to tip-top shape. The tub currently has a bit of a purple tint to it after you tried a new brand of bubble bath for Minnie - you are lucky she isn’t now grape flavored as well - and you would very much like it gone. It is coming off easier than you expected, but it is taking a fair amount of elbow grease. 

It is easy to space out and listen to music as you work. Your cleaning playlist are songs you can vibe to that you don’t really associate with anything in your life - mostly you think about the movies the song has been featured in - but you are finding, as you scrub and romantic lyrics float through your head, a certain name and face keeps appearing in your mind’s eye. 

You know it isn’t wise for you to develop a crush on Matt - just because you have a daughter together does not mean he wants to kiss you. You know you need to squash the feelings down before you get yourself hurt. 

But sometimes it is nice to have silly impossible daydreams while you are cleaning alone at ten at night. Having a goofy little smile while you picture yourself spinning around a garden in a dance isn’t hurting anyone. You have a good grasp on reality - you just sometimes want to pretend to be the lead in a cheesy 90’s teen romcom - is that too much to ask? 

No one else needs to know Matt has replaced the lead actor. It is a secret just for you. 

As you scrub bleach powder around your purple-haze tub drain, you catch movement reflecting in the shine of the spout. You can’t hear anything over your music - even though you only have one earbud in - so you sit up and turn around. Of course, it is Minnie standing in the doorway, clad in her jammies, and dragging Scooby by his big paw.

You pull the earbud out, frowning to your daughter, “Is everything alright, Mouse? Is my music too loud? Did it wake you up?”

She shakes her head, then in the most miserable voice you have ever heard from her, whines, “My tummy hurts.”

Instantly, you set down your sponge and your earbud so you can go to your daughter, “your tummy hurts?” 

You move to pick her up, wanting to comfort her, but it is made clear she doesn’t want this by stepping back and holding up her toy between the two of you. It hurts, but it passes, as you know you don’t like to be touched when you feel sick, so instead, you kneel down to be in front of her and try to find the root of the problem. 

“How does your tummy hurt?”

She sways side to side, face scrunching up as she self-analyzes. You can see the little wheels turning in her head, but then there is a very subtle shift in her eyes that only years of being a mother makes you notice. With lightning speed, you grab Minnie under her arms and spin around to hold her over the toilet just as her dinner begins to regurgitate. 

Your heart breaks as she empties her stomach and you try to soothe her the best you can, rubbing her little back as she coughs and hacks. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, get it all out. Get all the icky out,” you tell her. 

Luckily, her stomach is small and there is not a lot of expel. Once you are sure she is done, you flush the toilet then close the lid, intent on setting Minnie down so you can clean her up, but of course, now she doesn’t want to be put down. She wiggles and turns until she can bury her head into your neck, sniffling and hiccupping, and clinging to you the best she can. 

You can feel bits of vomit on your neck, but since you aren’t completely covered in it, you try to ignore it in favor of your distressed daughter. You begin to rock her gently, humming one of her favorite lullabies as she processes how distressing throwing up is.

You don’t remember when the last time she got sick was, but you have a guess as to what caused this upset - you tried a new ice cream for dessert tonight. It had made your stomach a bit gurgly and you had solved that with a TUMS. 

It hadn’t occurred to you to ask if Minnie needed one, too. 

A lesson for the future.

Minnie doesn’t dissolve into full on tears and after about two minutes, she pulls back and croaks out, “‘cooby?”

She had dropped the toy when you had first picked her up, so you stretch to grab him for her. She quickly switches to clinging to him and you go right for a washcloth. You wipe down your neck first - you can only handle so much - then start on cleaning up your poor Mouse. 

In a blessing from the gods, she only has a little bit of gunk around her mouth and nose. It doesn’t seem like anything got on her clothes. 

Getting her to rinse her mouth out takes a bit of convincing. 

“It will help the icky taste go away,” you promise, but she just clamps her mouth shut and shakes her head. You very much get why she wouldn’t want anything in her mouth after throwing up, but you also know she needs a good rinse. She only gives in after you demonstrate what you want of her by brushing your teeth and gargling some water. However, the condition is that you have to brush her teeth for her while she squeezes Scooby for dear life. 

Once her mouth is clean and the only sign she was ever sick is her puffy red eyes, you scoop up your baby and bring her out to the living room. 

“How does your tummy feel now?” you ask as you set her on the couch and begin to cocoon her in the throw blanket you keep there. 

Minnie rests her head on top of Scooby’s, lip jutting out into a pout, “Icky. And Hurty.”

“Icky and hurty?” You sympathize. You know well the aftermath of throwing up and how sometimes the aftermath is worse than the event - your stomach often turns sour and you feel drained. You know certain fluids will help relieve this, so you kiss Mouse’s forehead and tell her, “Let me see if we have any things to help.”

“Blue Pedi-lyte?” she asks and you can’t help but smile over how observant and smart your little one is. She may not have thrown up in recent memory - but other digestive problems have occurred, and she clearly remembers enough that the drink helped. 

“Yeah. Let me go see if we have any, okay? Do you want to put on some Mickey?”

“Goofy,” is her quick, but mumbled reply. 

You turn on the television and bring up some Goofy related shorts, then head to the kitchen, hoping you have some old Pedialyte. 

But you don’t. 

You have leftover drinks Karen brought you and the only thing that is comparable to what you promised Minnie is yellow Gatorade. However, you have nothing to turn it blue. You have the feeling that trying to give it to your little one is not going to go well, but you try, nonetheless. You fill a sippy cup halfway with yellow liquid and mentally cross yourself as you bring it to Mouse on the couch.

She takes one look at it before pouting at you, “That’s yellow.”

“I know, sweetie. But we don’t have any blue Pedialyte. We only have yellow Gatorade. It will help your tummy, too.”

To her credit, she takes it and holds it in her lap, looking down at it with disdain. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, then wrinkles up her nose and holds the cup back up to you, “It’s stinky.”

You try to not sigh - lemon-lime is an intense flavor and probably won’t taste the best after vomiting, but it is all you have. You crouch down so you are eye level with your daughter and rub her leg, trying to be encouraging, “I know, but it will help your tummy. Can you try for me?”

She looks between you and the cup about fifteen times, her little eyes full of doubt, before bringing it up to her mouth and taking a sip. She does not swallow - instead she looks disgusted before opening her mouth and letting the drink spill down her chin.

“Oh, no, no, let’s not do that,” you groan. You use your t-shirt - which is luckily your cleaning shirt and gross anyways - to wipe her face and soak up the yellow liquid. 

“Icky,” Mouse informs you, then adds, “I want blue Pedi-lyte. Please?”

You take in your daughter, looking so tiny wrapped up on the couch. How awful it must be to not only be nauseous, but to be so with enhanced senses. You’ve thrown up enough times to know what an unpleasant aftertaste it leaves, so she must be so miserable.

You rub your hands over your face and give in, “Okay, let Mommy go change into real people clothes, and we will go get some for you.”

----

You are no stranger to midnight runs to the bodega two blocks west. You had moved into your current apartment when you were about six months pregnant, and you had spent month seven waddling your way there almost every night for a slice of cake.  The late-night cashier, Sal, practically watched Minnie grow up and he is one of the few people who she will talk to unprompted.  So, you don’t feel embarrassed when you stroll in wearing sweatpants and a band-tank top, with Minnie still in her jammies - Sal has seen you in worse states and at least you aren’t wearing a robe and slippers. 

There’s a couple of college aged boys lingering around the snacks section who smell heavily of marijuana, and they seem more interested in talking about what chips to get than anything, so only your hyper paranoid mind makes you take notice as you make your way to the drink coolers. You pass all the fun things and go to the very back corner of the storefront where the small selection of medicinal goods are. 

Tampons, Tylenol, and band aids are stacked low on the dry goods shelf, and across from them, practically on the floor of the cooler, is one row of Pedialyte. The gods must be smiling on you because it is indeed the blue flavor your daughter is desiring. 

You open the cooler, and with Minnie on your hip, squat down to retrieve your prize. Almost instantly, she starts making grabby hands for it, asking with a bit of a whine, “Mommy, open it.”

“We have to pay for it first, then you can drink it,” you remind her, feeling guilty as you do. You can see the upset in her eyes, and to try and mitigate the damage, you offer, “Do you want to help buy it?”

Mouse, always the eager helper, nods against you, so you hand over the drink, stand, and start making your way to the counter. The stoned boys are debating which chips will leave the least amount of residue on their gaming controllers as you pass them and part of you wants to stop and listen. You don’t have an interest in video games beyond silly ones on your phone, but their passion is intense, and you agree Cheeto dust is one of the worst things in the world. You are lucky Minnie finds them gross and much prefers pretzels as her chip of choice.

As you come up to the checkout, Sal looks up from his phone and gives you a pleasant smile, “Late night snack run?” 

Minnie pipes up before you can, leaning forward as far as she can to hold out the bottle towards him, “I wanna buy this, please, thank you.”

Sal, ever kind, reaches across the counter to get it so you don’t have to try to lean in, “Ahhh, no snacks. Tummy troubles?”

“Tummy troubles,” you confirm. You dig into your purse for your wallet as he begins to ring you up.

Sal clicks his tongue in sympathy, before telling you, “My daughter, Sasha, the tall one, she always had the tummy troubles, too. Turns out, she was allergic to corn. Do you know how much corn is in everything in America?”

You make a face at that because you do, in fact, know how much corn is in everything. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

In your arms, always wanting to mimic you, Minnie gives a solemn nod to Sal, “Sorry to hear.”

Sal laughs warmly, “You are kind. I hope your tummy troubles are not from corn, but too many sweets.” 

That makes Mouse giggle, which warms your heart. When you are told the total, you hand her your card to hand over to Sal. The sweet man swipes it, then addresses Minnie, “Debit or credit?”

Despite not knowing what that means, she instantly replies with, “Credit!” making you smile all the more. 

“Yes, we will charge it,” he says. The receipt prints and he hands that and the card back to you before bagging the Pedialyte in a little black baggie and handing that to Minnie. “Your purchase, little ma’am.” 

“Thank you!” she chimes, and you thank Sal as well. The college boys have finally decided on their snack, so you vacate the counter so they can make their purchase, wishing the cashier a good rest of his night. 

As you exit the bodega, Minnie bonks your arm with the bagged bottle, “Mommy, open it now. We buyed it.” 

“Okay, okay.”

You set her down on the ground, then get the bottle out so you can crack it open. You help your little one take a few careful sips and once she is done, she smacks her lips. 

“Not icky?” You ask and she gives a big nod in response. 

“Not icky.”

“How is your tummy?”

Her fist goes right into her mouth as she thinks over the question. You use the time to recap the drink and drop it back into the bag, then put that into your purse. 

“It feels like jumping dinosaurs,” Mouse finally tells you, “Going ‘bah bah bah’. Like sheepies.”

You have no idea what that is supposed to mean, but you guess that she feels better. She seems more chipper, which isn’t what you need closing in on midnight. If you don’t get home soon and get her back into bed, you are going to have a very grumpy toddler in the morning. 

Which will go great with your expected grumpiness - you still have to finish cleaning the bathroom and who knows how long that is going to take. You’ll need to redo the toilet and throw a load of laundry into the wash. You’ll probably get to bed around two if you are lucky.

So, with the complete intention of tiring your daughter out, you ask her, “Do you want to walk back home holding Mommy’s hand?”

Which completely does the trick and Minnie takes your hand so you can walk back home together, and you begin heading that way. 

Despite being the city that never sleeps, the streets around you are pretty empty. You haven’t come across any other foot traffic and you’ve only seen a few cars roll by, so to you, it seems like a quiet night.

You wonder if that is how Minnie sees it - or in her case - hears it. 

It has been mind boggling learning her range of hearing and how much input she must constantly receive.

Matt is still working on making you his binder - Karen has apparently taken to copy editing it - but he has given you a preview of a few pages and you can barely comprehend it. You think you would go insane if you could hear everyone talking all at once, all the time. Your anxiety would be astronomical, but your sweet Mouse doesn’t seem bothered in day-to-day life.

You’ve been watching her play more and more and you’ve been learning what catches her attention and interests. To your surprise, it has been music. The little wiggles and shakes she sometimes does is apparently her interpretation of dancing and you have been making her a little playlist for her birthday. You think a dance party would be a fun thing to do the night before the zoo trip, to help get out all her energy. You haven’t told her this yet, but you did ask her to let you know when she hears a song she wants to dance to, so you can look into it. 

You don’t want to add anything inappropriate after all. 

You look down at your daughter as you walk, a little smile coming to your face. She’s watching her feet, and it looks like she’s trying to step on her own shadow without making a big deal of it. You’ve seen her do that before or try to walk one foot in front of the other. You aren’t the fastest walker - you tend to stroll - so you never worry about her games slowing you down. 

Plus, if it wears her out, all the better for you. 

You are about half a block away from your building when Minnie suddenly halts and whirls her head back towards the bodega. Curious, you stop as well, wondering what she has heard now. 

“What is it, sweetie?” 

“There’s a hoot-hoot!” She whisper-yells, looking up to you with the biggest, purest smile. 

Your heart practically bursts from your chest with love and your smile grows to match hers, “A hoot-hoot? Can you tell me about the hoot-hoot?”

She nods, then you watch in slow motion as your daughter’s absolute joy morphs into that of horror and before you can even process what is happening, something is ripping you away from Minnie by the base of your neck. 

You are pivoted left and slammed face first into the brownstone staircase you were just walking by. Your vision goes spotty as pain erupts from the center of your forehead - confusion and panic begin to consume you. 

All you can hear is your daughter screaming in fear.

You have no idea what is going on, but all you know is Minnie needs you, and that ignites something deep and primal in your chest.

There is something grabbing and pulling at your top and your purse - which you wear crossbody - and you realize someone is trying to mug you. Fear fills you as you struggle to get away, break free, but whoever it is is stronger than you and keeps slamming you back against the stone.

“Mommy!”

The thing inside your chest bursts to life when you hear Minnie cry for you and you kick backwards best you can, trying to dislodge your attacker. Your foot catches their knee and both of you go tumbling to the ground. You hit the cement hard only to be crushed under the weight of your assailant as they land on top of you. 

You refuse to stay still, squirming and trying to army crawl out from under the mugger, but they easily overpower you. Hands wrap around your throat from behind and you are temporarily overwhelmed by the stench of body odor and filth. You are pressed down into the sidewalk for a split second before being yanked back and you just barely manage to turn your face as you are violently forced back down again. Gravel and glass tear at your cheek. 

Something tangles itself into your hair and your head is once again being pulled back, but you won’t give up. You reach back over your head and grab onto the arm of the person attacking you. You feel flesh, so you curl your fingers and dig your nails in the best you can. 

There is a feral, pained yowl, then your head meets the ground again, but it doesn’t stop. They are trying to push you down into the sidewalk using all their weight, like they are trying to crush your skull.

You kick and buck as hard as you are able to, thrashing desperately in an attempt to break away. The pain is quickly becoming all encompassing, but Minnie is crying, and you need to get to her.

You try to get an arm under you, to try and help to push you up, but there is so much weight and all of it is centered on your upper back and skull.

You can’t get up. 

You can’t get to Minnie. 

You can’t save your daughter.

There is a deep and furious roar, then the crushing weight of your attacker is ripped off of you.  

You gasp for breath as you quickly roll onto your side, terrified you're going to be pushed back into the dirt and smothered. Your vision is swimming, blurry and half black, and everything, everything hurts. 

“DADDY!” 

Your eyes snap open and you try to push yourself up onto shaky arms. You try to turn around to find your daughter, but your body doesn’t want to obey anymore, and you collapse back onto the ground. You force your legs to move the best you can, trying to roll until you can find your daughter. 

“Minnie..” you try to call out but you aren’t sure if any noise escapes your lips.

“Mommy!”

The darkness wraps itself around you and begins to drag you down into its depths. The last thing your mind catches before it switches off is your little Mouse, screaming for you.

“MOMMY!”

“MOMMY!!”

---

:3C

---

tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath 

 @allllium

@anehkael

 @nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird  @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil

@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare 

@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @yes-im-your-mom @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars

@

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets 

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @nommingonfood@mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 

@

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04  @ astridstark13

 @lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

[jimxnslight]

Hey. Love your works. How are you?

For the prompts: 19. If you are okay with it, reading struggling after SA and finding it hard to tell taehyung about it ( only if you are ok with it)

Why Won’t You Let Me Help You? | KTH

Pairing: lawyer boyfriend!Taehyung x reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Sexual Assault (i.e. slapping, groping), accidental minor injury, some blood

A/N: so um did I say max 1k for the drabbles? I didn't, right? I don’t remember saying that at all, nope, not at all… okay so maybe I went a little overboard with this but in my defence this is a pretty heavy topic and I didn’t wanna just breeze over it like it was nothing. So I present to you this supersized drabble

You never think it will happen to you. 

Sure, you’ve heard gruesomely detailed cases about women getting assaulted all the time on the news. You’ve read horrifying stories on Reddit of men committing atrocities against the opposite gender. You’ve even witnessed your own friend be catcalled on the bus during one of your girls' nights out. But you never think it will happen to you. 

Until one day it does. 

Until one day a man double your age grabs you while you're walking down the familiar hallway of your workplace. Until one day you’re being dragged into an empty meeting room before you can even think of screaming and shoved against the wall while your arms are restrained by hands that feel like they were made of iron. Until one day you have this man telling you how long he’s been waiting to get you alone, how annoying it has been to have had to hold back because of your “stupid boyfriend.”

You remember struggling at first, desperate to get away from a distant nightmare that had become reality, desperate to get this man as far away from you as humanly possible, but his next action had stopped you in your tracks. 

“Shut up,” he had snapped, and a sharp crack had sounded as his palm came in contact with your cheek. It shocked your senses, the fact that you’d been slapped in the building you had felt so comfortable working in for years, the fact that you had been so easily overcome. 

The realisation of how helpless you truly were in that moment seemed to strike you harder than any slap, the thought so jarring that you slowly felt the fight begin to drain from your limbs, fear settling to lock them in place instead. You couldn’t move, could barely even breathe, and you knew it had nothing to do with the steely grip the man had on you to keep you from running. Your strength was nothing in the face of his, and he seemed so angry and determined that you feared he might actually break your arms in a fit of rage if you tried to oppose him. 

You think that was when the numbness had begun to set in, because you couldn't remember feeling a stinging sensation on your cheek, the one you’re supposed to feel when a person is struck. In fact, you couldn’t remember feeling anything at all, even when you had watched the man’s hands roam over your chest and back greedily. Why hadn’t you screamed? Or cried? Or felt anything that wasn’t nothing at all?

That dazed state hadn’t dissipated even when the door to the meeting room had burst open to reveal your boyfriend’s friend and your co-worker, Jungkook, who had only taken a moment to process the situation before he had shoved the guy off of you and landed a harsh punch against his cheek.

You couldn’t remember what happened next. One second you were watching Jungkook angrily ask the man what he thought he was doing and then the next second you were standing here, staring blankly at the door to Taehyung’s familiar apartment. You felt like you were in a dream, everything surrounding you hazy and intangible as you watched your shaking fingers pull your keys from your pocket and unlock the door just like you always did. 

You were immediately greeted with the sound of the living room TV, and then the sight of your boyfriend stretched over the couch, two case files strewn out on the wooden coffee table before him as his attention jumped from the files to the series playing on the TV. 

At the sound of the door he turned to glance at you, a boxy smile overtaking his features.

“Hey, you’re back early,” he noted, his attention returning to the files, “how was work?”

It took a second for you to process the question, partly because the sight of his refined eyes and dark brown hair felt grounding and partly because that grounding effect seemed to tug at your hazy mind, attempting to pull you out of this thick fog you found yourself swimming in. You didn’t like it. You didn’t like that every time you felt yourself drifting away from the fog you could start to feel that man’s hands back on your body, as if they had been dipped in permanent ink and he had smeared it all over your skin. It made you feel dirty. It made you feel desperate to scrub it all off in the shower. 

But you couldn’t seem to get yourself to move towards the bathroom, too stuck in this autopilot mode that your mind seemed to cling to desperately to feign some form of ignorance. You watched yourself, as if you were some kind of spectator in your own body, walk into the kitchen just as you always did when you got back from work. As if following your daily routine would erase any remnant of the last hour from your memory. 

“It was fine,” you answered, your monotonous tone catching Taehyung’s attention. This time he gave you a sympathetic look as you mindlessly began pulling things out of the cabinets and fridge, his own hand moving to grab the remote and turn off the television. 

“Ah, I guess night shift isn’t exactly what you were expecting it to be…” he shook his head, misinterpreting the situation. He pushed himself off the sofa and began walking towards your form, “but it was only your first day, I’m sure it’ll get better as time passes.”

You quietly placed a head of lettuce - you don’t remember how it got in your hand - on a cutting board, while your other hand grabbed a knife. You had no clue what you were doing, no idea why you were cutting a head of lettuce right now, but you did know that you couldn’t look at Taehyung. Every time you did you could feel yourself slipping out of the daze that seemed to be keeping you together in front of him, could feel those hands groping at your body again.

Taehyung stepped beside you as he leaned against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest and an encouraging look on his face, “and even if it does end up sucking, your manager did say the switch was temporary. You’ll be back on the dayshift in no time, trust me.”

Your silence continued, Taehyung’s words flying over your head as you focused on keeping your erratic breathing levelled and your hands steady. You felt like a bomb, the pressure building and building and building until it could no longer be contained by the numbing of your mind and explode all over the place. You didn’t want to fall apart in front of him. 

“Hey,” he said, shifting so that he wasn’t leaning against the counter anymore and instead facing you with one hand against the counter, “did something happen? You don’t need my help with suing anyone, do you?”

He’d added that last sentence to lighten the mood, but when you didn’t answer him he couldn't hide his worry. His tone dipped as he tried to get your attention, which was still on that head of lettuce. You tightened your grip on it, trying to hide the evident tremor in your fingers. 

“Y/N? Come on, say something. Was it really that stressful today?”

You took a shaky breath, “no, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not, you’re clearly stressed over something. We can go out somewhere if you want? Or we can order takeout and watch movies here… Just ask me anything and we’ll do it.”

The pressure was nipping away at your composure, so much so that the feeling of your throat closing up barred you from answering him. You could feel a hand on your chest, another at your hip; there was one sliding up your back, one closing around your neck. He was everywhere. You closed your eyes. It was too much. You just wanted it all to stop. 

You just wanted it all to stop. 

“Y/N!”

Taehyung suddenly lunged for the knife just as a sharp pain shot from your hand, his fingers wrapping around the handle to pull it out of your grasp. There was a small trail of blood dripping from the new cut on your palm.

“You’re bleeding,” he announced, dropping the knife back onto the cutting board before quickly opening the medicine cabinet to bring out some band-aids, “it’s not too deep thank god, but try to staunch the bleeding with those paper towels just in case.”

But when Taehyung turned around he found you frozen in place, gaze hazily fixed on your bleeding palm. You tried to focus on that pain instead, hoping it could help you balance your breathing and stabilise your shaky arms and stop the hands. Those hands, that wouldn’t stop grabbing at your skin over and over and over. 

Taehyung, more confused than ever, walked over to where you were standing and grabbed a couple of paper towels, “please say something, Y/N, you’re worrying me.”

He reached over to wet the paper towel before cleaning your palm, and it was only then that he felt you trembling. His brows furrowed as he reached over once again, this time to place a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“God, you’re shaking-”

But the moment his fingers connected with your shoulder you flinched. It wasn’t a small reaction either. It was the kind that had you snapping backwards, your hand smacking against a pan that went crashing to the floor while your head bumped against an overhead cabinet. Taehyung’s eyes were wide, his entire body freezing as he watched you cave in on yourself. 

“Please…” you said, unable to produce anything more than a whisper, “please, don’t touch me.”

A look of hurt flashed on his face, and you felt awful for causing it. But, up until now, the touches of that man’s hand had been ghostly, merely whisps brushing against your skin, until Taehyung’s hand had made contact with you and suddenly they felt too real. It was as if you couldn’t differentiate his touch from that man’s, and that thought only pained you further, so much so that you felt your eyes begin to water.

Taehyung tried to take a step towards you, but you moved backwards further, causing him to pause. 

“Y/N, what’s going on?” He pleaded now, begging you to shed some light on the situation. You looked so pained, he couldn’t bear to see you like this, “please baby, why won’t you let me help you?”

You didn’t want to break down in front of him, didn’t want him to see you like this: so weak, so vulnerable, so incapable of pulling yourself together. 

And yet, at the soft tone of his voice, that’s exactly what Taehyung witnessed.

The tears came first, heavy as they slid down your cheeks before sobs began to rack your frame. You couldn’t even hold yourself up anymore, causing you to drop to your knees as you began to cry into your hands. You’d tried so hard to keep yourself together, and yet here you were now, unravelling entirely at Taehyung’s feet. 

Silently, he walked to where you were bent over, slowly crouching so that he was on the same level as you. His hands were itching to pull you into his arms and hold you while you sobbed, his heart aching to lessen even a sliver of whatever you were going through in that moment, but after your earlier reaction to his touch he decided not to push it. Instead, he stayed crouched before you, dropping soft words of comfort to let you know that you weren’t alone, he was here, and he wasn’t going anywhere. 

Eventually the story began to drop from your lips. You started from the very beginning, mentioning every detail of the experience as Taehyung struggled to keep his anger at bay the longer he listened. You went farther than that too, admitting to just how helpless and vulnerable you had felt in that moment and wondering how you were ever going to feel comfortable in your workplace again.

By the time you’d finished the anger and pain he felt was straining his chest, the urge to pull you closer reaching an unbearable level.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked instead, knowing that getting angry and emotional now wouldn’t help you in any way. Right now it was his turn to stay strong, so that he could be that pillar of support for you during a time like this. 

“I don’t know,” you shook your head, sniffling while your hands tried to dry your cheeks. Taehyung’s gaze softened at how defeated you sounded. 

“Y/N, look at me,” he said, causing your damp eyes to meet his, “none of this is your fault, you understand me? What that man did to you was wrong, and he deserves to rot in hell for it. I’ll make sure of that if you’ll let me.”

Taehyung shifted forward, taking care not to touch you as he placed his hand on the floor in front of you, “and you’re going to get through this. I know it hurts right now. I know you feel helpless and vulnerable, it’s normal to feel that way. But I know how strong you are, I know you will get through this. And I’ll be here for you every step of the way, that you can count on. I promise.”

Even though you felt embarrassed, letting it all out to Taehyung and knowing he would still be by your side no matter what felt like a huge relief. Perhaps a part of you had been afraid of what his reaction would be, which was stupid considering how many sexual assault victims you knew he’d defended before in court. But there had still been that little “what if…” taunting you in the back of your mind. You were glad that thought had been shot down now entirely. 

You sniffed as your gaze dropped to his hand, still placed on the floor in front of your knees. You lifted your own, extending it until you hesitantly brushed your fingers over the back of his palm. You were relieved when your body didn’t recoil or flinch, relieved that you could lace your fingers in between his without any bad feelings.

Perhaps there still was hope for you. Perhaps you weren’t entirely broken. 

“Y/N?” Taehyung whispered, squeezing your hand reassuringly in his. You looked up at him in question. 

“Can I hug you?”

Even though your nod was quick, because just the thought of him was comforting, you appreciated it when he slowly pulled you towards him, making sure that if you needed to back out at any time it was okay. But by the time he had pulled you halfway towards himself, it was you who threw your arms around his torso and buried your face in his shirt, Taehyung’s arms immediately encircling your form. His hands stroked your back softly, nothing like that man’s hands in the slightest. 

The two of you stayed like that for so long that by the time Taehyung spoke, you could feel your leg start to cramp from the hard floor and awkward position. 

“So,” he said, stroking your hair gently, “what do you want to do now?”

He wanted you to say the words so badly, to tell him to help you sue every last penny out of that man before throwing him in the worst jail Taehyung had heard of. He was more than ready to, the anger from before slithering back into his chest like an enraged snake. He wasn’t a lawyer for nothing, and he’d show that man exactly what he was capable of. 

But you surprised him when you said none of that and instead said, “I want to take a shower.”

He chuckled, although it was more bittersweet knowing that a lot of women tended to feel “dirty” after being assaulted; he’d seen a lot of that in his line of work, and the thought of you feeling that way hurt his heart. 

“Do you want me to join you?” He asked, pulling the two of you from the ground, though his arms stayed fixed around your waist. 

You shook your head slowly, hoping he wouldn’t take any offence. You just felt like you needed a moment to yourself to sort some things out in your head, but Taehyung was quick to nod, instead placing a light kiss on your forehead. 

“Alright, just call if you need me, okay? In the meantime I’ll order some takeout,” he smiled, showcasing that beautifully boxy grin that you could stare at for hours if he let you. Taehyung was glad to see you give him a small smile of your own before you turned around and disappeared behind the doors to your shared bedroom. 

The moment he heard the shower turn on, the sound of his phone going off made him flinch. He walked over to the coffee table and picked it up, brows furrowing when he saw Jungkook’s name displayed on the screen before immediately pressing the answer button. 

“Hyung!” Jungkook yelled into the phone, his worry apparent, “is Y/N at your place?! I’ve been trying to find her for the last 30 minutes, but I think she left the building. There was this guy and I caught him trying to force himself on her, but after I shoved him away I turned around and she just disappeared. I-”

“Relax Jungkook,” Taehyung calmed him down, quickly explaining that you were at his place and everything was fine. But Jungkook being involved relieved Taehyung, because that meant he could trust him to be a credible witness and to send him some extra information. 

“I need you to send me the details of the guy that hurt her,” Taehyung said, noticing the malice in his voice but not finding it in himself to care. His gaze dropped to the abandoned case files thrown across the coffee table, knowing that he’ll have to give most of his cases away if he wanted to spend as much time on yours as he wanted to. 

Thankfully, Jungkook’s reply was immediate, “of course, anything you need.”

Taehyung smiled, not only because Jungkook was ready to help him defend you, but also for protecting you when he wasn’t there. If Jungkook hadn’t been there… well Taehyung didn’t want to think about it. A part of him thinks he might have actually been capable of committing murder. 

He took a breath trying to steady himself, focusing instead on what was within his limits at the moment. 

“Thank you, Jungkook.”

“I’ll need your help if I want to make that man regret ever being born.”

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Spinning the Block Part 2

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Officer Jessica "Jess" Sims

Warning(s): 18+, Suicide Mentioned, Smut.

Summary: Terry returns to Shelby Springs to find Jess.

Word count: 4.2K

"I keep my head up high

I cross my heart and hope to die

Lovin' me is complicated

Too afraid of a lot of changes

I'm alright and you're a favorite

Dark nights in my prayers"

Kendrik Lamar – "Alright"

The dust had finally settled.

Terry sat in a Shelby Springs coffee shop and mulled over the whirlwind two years he'd lived through. His high-profile case against the Shelby Springs Police Department ended in his favor. The case didn't drag out for years, probably because the video proof of misconduct was irrefutable. The combination of systemic corruption, civil rights violations, departmental liability, and lack of community trust in the leadership helped the jury make a quick decision. Summer and Marston's testimony did significant damage, but it was Jess Sims' presence that rattled him. Whatever ambivalence he felt about her part in knowing what that corrupt police department was doing, Jess's community rallied behind her. They set up online support to encourage people to donate money for her lawyer's defense fund and to help support her financially while temporarily suspended without pay. There were online testimonials from citizens vouching for her character. Even former criminals who had run-ins with the police posted TikTok clips of how Jess checked up on them to make sure they stayed on the straight and narrow after interactions with her as their arresting officer.

"Officer Sims didn't play. She talked to me like one of my aunties and that made me feel real bad, y'know, like I let down somebody in my family for being a fuckup. Sims told me to get my shit together. She even went to my grandmama's house to see if I signed up for night school like I said I would. My grandmama and my mama didn't even know how bad I was doing. I was pissed at first, cuz I felt like she needed to mind her business. Feel me? But yeah…I got my G.E.D. and I'm working a steady gig now. When I seen all that bullshit go down with homeboy and his cousin…I believed them cops did that shit. But I wouldn't yoke her up with them other fuckers. Ain't no good cops really outchea, but she made me think there might be some tryin' to do right by people."

The comments to that particular TikTok blew up and people argued among themselves about Jess's choice to be a cop, knowing that one Black woman among a squad of white boys didn't make her appear capable of fighting systemic racism. She was called everything from a white man's bedwench for knocking niggas around to the best type of law enforcement needed…someone connected to her community who put their needs first by protecting them from the white cops.

None of her community accolades or dedication to the force appeased other cops who painted her as a traitor to the blue line. She withstood online hate and ferocious public scrutiny. That had to be tough on her. Meanwhile, the public framed Terry and his cousin as victims of police brutality. His Aunt Rosa received nearly one million in GoFundMe donations. It covered burial expenses and the cost of a heavy-hitter lawyer to take on their wrongful death suit against the prison that was negligent in protecting Mike. The lawsuit would take some time, but all the media attention shed light on the case. He hoped his aunt would get swift justice.

As for Terry, he received a multi-million dollar settlement.

He cried when the judgment was read to him out loud in court. His lawyer cried with him because it meant that the world knew he was innocent and the cops were indeed callous bastards. No legal analyst expected the police department to appeal. Chief Sandy Burnne acted belligerent on the stand and justified his actions as a way to keep the town afloat because of budget constraints. He clammed up when Terry's lawyer brought up his previous wrongful death suit as the true cause of the department's financial crisis. He would more than likely die in prison with the long stretch he faced in the criminal case against him. The suicide of the corrupt Judge Logston who helped hide the truth nailed it shut in many minds. Why take yourself out if you're innocent?

The departments's insurance would pay it quickly and quietly. The city council of Shelby Springs wanted their town's name and tarnished reputation out of the media.

The judge approved the settlement, and the case was officially closed after eighteen months.

Sitting in the coffee shop stirring sugar into his espresso, the idea of being a wealthy man didn't faze him. Getting the truth out mattered most. It didn't surprise him that others who went through the terror tactics of the cops didn't come forward or even want to join a class action lawsuit. They had to live in that town or near it among family members of the cops that crossed several parishes. The trauma ran deep for some, and they wanted to forget about the money or assets stolen from them. Terry had nothing to lose. No wife or kids. No steady girlfriend. No job. No fear. He was a lone wolf with nothing but time on his hands to go up against a beast of a system.

Still, he couldn't keep Jess Sims taking the stand out of his mind. She wore a simple beige top with a tan blazer and brown slacks. She had puffed out her hair in a halo of fluffy curls, pulled back by a hair clip on one side. The light make-up on her face showed him what a stunner she was out of uniform. When his lawyer made a little joke to help Jess relax, he noticed she had a dimple in her right cheek when she smiled. Their eyes met briefly before she was grilled about her role in the case.

Certain things were made clear. Chief Burnne kept Jess in the office for the majority of her work shifts. Misdemeanor cases were in abundance in Shelby Springs, and most people didn't question it because of the war on drugs and whatever made-up war they used to explain away why so many victims were called by their incarcerated loved ones to bring large sums of purposely inflated bail money in cash. Officer Lann and Officer Marston, along with two other officers Burnne used, were the primary culprits who arrested people. Judge Logston notified the police chief when a new bundle of cash was expected to come through in an attempt to bail out a loved one.

Burnne knew Jess was a straight-shooter and good at computers, so he kept her mainly indoors for the past two years as their department struggled with budget cuts. She also cared for her ailing grandfather at home, so her schedule remained fixed to gift her flexibility to run home for emergencies when the day nurse she paid for had issues. Each date that his lawyer brought up pertaining to a civil asset seizure, she could show in her personal daily planner that she worked in the office that day. Her patrol days were usually on Saturdays when her sister-in-law stayed with her grandfather.

Terry watched the dawning realization on Jess's face as she understood how Burnne had manipulated her and kept her away from a lot of actions she would most likely object to. The chief stayed considerate of her home situation only because it was the best way to keep her and a few other goody-two shoes cops in the dark as much as possible.

In the beginning of her testimony, Jess answered confidently and spoke highly of her former boss in terms of how he treated her. Burnne played on her need to clean up the streets and indoctrinated her with the mindset that they were under siege by nefarious cartels and drug dealers. No one could be trusted. Their actual legitimate drug busts cemented in Jess's mind that Burnne knew what was best, and she moved his way. Terry's lawyer baited her into speaking of her moral compass and pushed her to explain why she had held a gun on Terry when he thought she was Serpico.

"Until that point, I had no cause to believe that Chief Burnne acted unlawfully," Jess said.

His lawyer, a white man with the mind of a steel trap, stared at her hard before speaking again.

"Terry Richmond, who had done nothing but de-escalate every situation he faced with your fellow officers…you included…he hands you SD cards and asks you to broadcast them for the world to see after he thinks he'll be arrested or killed by your department… and that doesn't give you pause Miss Sims that maybe something is rotten in Denmark…or even a little fishy?"

Jess glanced at him, and he tried to give her an encouraging look to tell her truth. Her eyes watered.

"I wasn't sure what to believe. Things were happening so fast and I didn't want him to hurt the Chief or me."

"Miss Sims, you told us earlier that Mr. Richmond remained calm at all times, always explaining what he was going to do, and even conveyed to you that he wanted to avoid gunfire and violence. Why didn't you at least stop to look at the footage?"

Jess held her head high and kept her tears from falling.

"I wanted to trust Chief Burnne—"

"But you just stated that you weren't sure what to believe."

"That's because I didn't want to make a mistake and get my fellow officers or Mr. Richmond killed because of doubt. I kept thinking things could be sorted out later, as long as no one got hurt."

"That's the thinking of a good cop. We know you're good, Miss Sims, because we saw video of you stopping Officer McGill from shooting Mr. Richmond in cold blood. Mr. Richmond also testified that he thanked you for protecting him from men who wanted to… and I quote, "string me up". You also stopped Chief Sandy Burnne from obstructing justice by pushing him off the road and arresting him. The problem I'm having, though, is why you waited so long to stop Burnne once he shot Officer Marston…"

Jess's voice sounded unsure later in her testimony. It appeared that she questioned her own actions as she recalled them. She gave the impression that she was willing to support bad actors and questionable conduct as long as the end result she wanted came about. To Terry, she sounded no different from the Black soldiers he worked with in the marines who were gungho about fighting bad guys overseas, even if a few innocent civilians in other countries got crushed. Collateral damage.

Terry sipped his drink and contemplated the busy street outside. Such a sleepy-looking town. The type of place people put on postcards. A white woman strolled past, walking a small black and white dog with a young girl. She double-backed a few seconds later with her mouth held open. He grinned and gulped down the last of his espresso before leaving the coffee shop and joining the woman outside.

"Terry Richmond…I swear as I live and breathe!"

Summer McBride hugged Terry, and he lifted her up, returning the affection.

"You look amazing," she gushed.

"You look good too."

"Oh, please," she said.

She ran a hand over her thin blond hair that was about two inches longer than the last time he saw her.

"This is my daughter Annie…Annie this is Mr. Richmond, the man who saved me."

Summer's daughter had her mother's lanky blonde hair and a thin build. She looked to be about nine years old.

"Hi Annie," he said.

Annie acted shy and stayed close to her mother as she held the leash of the passive dog.

"Hi," Annie said.

"When did you get here…and why did you come back?" Summer said.

"Got here last night, and I came to check on some people in person. You and your daughter…and someone else."

"Marston?"

"No…Jess Sims."

Summer stared at him for a long time.

"Why Jess?"

Terry crouched down to play with Summer's dog. The puppy willingly went to him, and he glanced across the street, keeping an eye out for Jess. A Black café owner on the corner informed him earlier, after he ate an early breakfast, that Jess and her friends often had brunch there every Wednesday at one. He hung around the coffee shop to do some reconnaissance, looking for her. He tried contacting her through his lawyer, but she changed her phone number. His plan was to see her…try to talk to her. He had a burning desire to sort his feelings about everything with her. After the court case, he was compelled to let her know that he was never going to hold hard feelings against her. The vitriol she received from the outside world was enough. He needed her to know that he wanted her to keep living without guilt. All the others could go to hell, especially Marston, who started the whole ball running by ramming his cruiser into him.

But Jess?

He wanted her to have grace. The look of regret and shame on her face at Mike's repast made it possible for him to forgive her part in the whole affair. It was brave for her to show up at his aunt's house, knowing she'd be the target of scorn and the rage of a family who shouldn't be mourning Mike.

When he glimpsed her face back in Greenwood, he couldn't believe it. He almost didn't recognize her. She'd stayed on his mind for days. His cousin flipped the fuck out on her, and Terry chased Jess down the street. She looked so vulnerable and broken. Scared. He wanted to hug her, even though his cousin had every right to curse her out. That was her baby brother shanked to death. Her only brother.

He looked up at Summer. Why Jess?

"I need closure with her. She saved me two times…three, actually. Saved you."

"She was only saving her ass."

"Like your friend, Marston?"

Summer looked away. Her body language and tone told him more than she realized. She and Jess had history of some kind.

"You know her?"

"Yeah. We were friends at one time."

"What happened?"

"That's personal."

"I have a lot of time available to listen."

"Over dinner?"

He grinned. Summer gave him a coy smile. He sensed some flirtation, but he wouldn't feed it. She was strictly for the friend zone.

"Pick the restaurant. My treat," he said.

"No, my treat at my place. It might be better if we aren't seen eating out together since…you know…the case has been settled. I make a mean casserole and I can fill you in on my case against Officer Lann."

"When?"

"Let's do tomorrow night. Annie goes back to her dad's and we can have some privacy. My number is the same."

"Okay. Sounds like a plan."

Terry noticed a Dodge Durango pull into a parking spot across the street. Seven Black women piled out and Jess was the last to exit from the driver's side. He inhaled through his mouth quickly, seeing her with her people. She smiled and checked her cell phone, pulling out a pair of glasses. Her black and silver off-the-shoulder halter top accentuated all that she had up front and her short jean skirt gave him an eyeful of big legs and thick thighs. The heels of her black open-toe half boots helped stream-line her profile. She was all huggable curves and wide hips. Big hoop earrings dangled to her shoulders and her laughter drifted across the street, making music in his ears. Goddamn. Nothing made Terry weaker than a short, big-breasted woman who wore glasses.

"Well, there she is," Summer grumbled.

Her voice sounded irritated. She took the leash from Annie.

"See you tomorrow night," Summer said.

Jess glanced their way and froze.

"Good luck," Summer said, walking off with her daughter and dog.

Terry looked over at Jess again. Her party of women entered the café laughing and talking loud, but she stood near her car with a concerned expression. He smoothed his blue sweater down to make sure he was presentable and crossed the street after a car rolled past.

"I've been trying to contact you. You changed your number," he said.

Terry tried to sound upbeat to help ease her apprehension.

"Changed it a year ago," she said in a crisp and cautious tone.

Jess's central Louisiana accent had him feeling bashful in front of her. Things were so different when she wasn't in uniform. This was a bona fide southern baddie in front of him. He didn't want to lose all his cool in front of her, however, it would've been so easy to take one step and place a hand on her car's roof, hem her up against the driver's door and talk that talk to her like he was trying to pull her in his orbit. She had to be feeling him because her eyes dropped to his chest, admiring the wide expanse of it.

"I see you're about to have a meal with your people, so I won't take up too much of your time…I just needed to see you, Jess. Can we meet up for another time to talk openly?"

"I don't know why you'd want to. Last time you saw me, I caused a scene at your cousin's house."

"That was a tough day, and my entire family stayed on edge. I'm sorry about your passenger window. Can I take you out to eat later in the week? Friday maybe? Or we could take a long drive into the country, get away for a chance to connect…talk?"

"I have a church function on Friday."

"Saturday."

"Busy. Terry, I don't feel comfortable—"

"Okay, okay. Thank you for helping me. Thank you for keeping me alive."

Jess chewed her lip, and her left leg shook. She averted his direct gaze, and he so wanted to hug her and tell her everything would be fine. But he didn't know that for sure, at least not for her. He dug for his wallet in his back pocket and pulled out a card from the motel he stayed at.

"I'm in room 5B. Please call if you change your mind. I'm going to stay here for a few more days. If I don't hear from you, I'm going to leave town."

"You should leave now. There's nothing for you here except a horrible memory."

Jess started wiping at her eyes as tiny teardrops fell down her plump cheeks. He moved in close and hugged her, letting her nervous trembles get absorbed by his warm strength.

"I'm not here to upset you or make you feel bad, Jess…I care about what's going on in your life. We both went through something traumatic that changed us. I know you're having a hard time here."

She wept onto the top of his chest. He rubbed her back to soothe her. The way she rested against his solid frame felt right.

"Jess? Everything okay?"

One of her girlfriends stepped out from the café, looking for her. Terry didn't want to stop holding Jess. All that softness molded against his hard muscles reminded him of how long he'd been without the regular comforts of a woman. He'd had a few hook-ups throughout the trial, but none of the women he spent intimate time with felt like the woman in his arms. Her lushness and the way she clung to him aroused a yearning to be alone with her. But only when she was ready.

He stepped away from her and stroked her shoulders.

"I won't pressure you. If you don't call me, I'll understand why and won't bother you again."

She nodded and walked away from him quickly. Her friend, another heavyset woman with long straight hair, threw an arm around Jess's shoulder and escorted her inside the café.

That didn't go so well.

Terry took a long walk around the town square to clear his head. He didn't want to make her cry, although he knew in his heart that speaking with her could turn emotional. Now that he'd approached her, he wasn't so sure if talking with her would do either of them any good. He was already feeling the heaviness in his chest from listening to her sob. Did she think he just wanted to punish her with his words? Give her a verbal tongue lashing to rid himself of the burden of Mike's death? Lay it at her feet so she would suffer for as long as his family did?

Truthfully, he didn't know what to do. He'd been languishing in a holding pattern for two years since Mike's murder. The lump sum of his multi-million dollar payout gave him financial freedom to go anywhere. All he did was buy a brand new silver-blue Dodge Ram truck with a pop-up camper and drove straight to Shelby Springs to find Jess. The previous night, he slept out in the woods inside his pop-up to test it out. Roomy, comfortable, and perfect for his needs as an outdoorsman, Terry later sought a motel and bided his time, waiting for her to show up by lingering inside the coffee shop.

Now he found himself lost again.

He returned to the coffee shop after an hour and ordered a turkey club sandwich with tomato basil soup. Jess emerged from the café with her friends, looking subdued. He sat back in the cut and watched her drive away, thinking about her softness.

Returning to the motel, he tried to turn in early after watching a few movies. He tossed and turned all night, dreaming about Jess. Before dawn broke, he woke up with a throbbing erection. He twisted his legs around the cheap, thin motel sheets. Their friction against his dick might have influenced the vivid dream he snapped awake from. There was nothing inherently erotic about it at first, just a replaying of hugging Jess and rocking her in his arms. But then she dropped to her knees, right there next to her car, and unfastened his pants, fishing out the thick dick that her cute hands couldn't get to fast enough. The rich brown heaviness pulsed in her hand. He was a big man everywhere, and his erection was not meant for those who couldn't handle a big penis. Terry was so ready to nut all in her pretty mouth. Jess teased the fat mushroom cap and thick frenulum ridge with a nasty pink tongue that knew how to please him. He reached down to palm one of her breasts and her top just fell down to her waist, like the magic of dreams often did. Her big titties made him groan, especially the large reddish-brown areolas with stiff nipples ready to be pinched and played with.

Jesus! He was ready to bust.

She started shaking them fat titties, letting them smack against each other, letting him hear how loud they'd sound smacking above his face if he fucked her good and hard.

"Baby, you can put your mouth on that dick. Lemme see how far I can get it down your throat before you choke…"

His deep voice sounded demanding and direct. She lifted those big melons and jiggled them for him, her lips pulled back into a smile showing him that one dimple in her cheek.

That's when he woke up, sweating and cursing, because that shit wasn't really happening.

Terry untangled his legs from the sheets and fisted his dick, pumping his hand up and down from the root to the ridge, squeezing the heft. His pre-cum spilled out in a deluge and he groaned Jess's name. He envisioned her voluptuous breasts, wishing they were in his hands, and came so forcefully that his balls pulsed in a rhythm with the thick white streams he shot across the bed.

"Fuck…fuck…oh…fuck!"

He kept working his hand up and down, pretending she rode his dick, clapping the cheeks of her fat ass on his muscular thighs. A final release of cum signaled the end phase of his intense climax. No orgasm ever felt like that before, just from a dream.

Terry moaned and gasped for air. The room looked blurry because his eyes watered from the pleasure, sweating fluid like the rest of his skin and his content dick.

He squeezed his eyes shut and knew something for certain while being in Shelby Springs: either he'd end up fucking Jess Sims, or he'd make her cry again. Maybe even both… at the same damn time.

Part 3 HERE.

Masterlist.

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[cosmerelists]

Should You Invite These Cosmere Characters to Boardgame Night?

As requested by anon. :)

I've done two boardgame-related posts before this (I love boardgames): Favorite Boardgames of Each Knights Radiant Order and Should You Invite the Shards to Boardgame Knight?

In this list, allow me to provide some advice about whether or not you should invite these Cosmere characters to your next boardgame night!

1. Adolin: Yes

Adolin is a delight at every social gathering. He brings wine that somebody at the store told him was good. He has fun with every game whether he wins or loses. By the end of the night, he is somehow the best friend of each individual guest.

2. Shallan: Yes

Is she cheating? Maybe. But she makes a lot of puns and you know that if she tries to cheat TOO much, Radiant will stop her.

3. Kaladin: No

He wins everything. It's annoying. He joined Settlers of Katan twenty minutes late and STILL won. How does he do it???

4. Kelsier: Yes

At first you were admittedly intimidated, as Kelsier kept smiling to himself and saying things like "Just wait until I reveal my Master Plan!" But actually, he kinda loses games...a lot. Keeps smiling, though, so you assume he's having a good time! What a good sport!

5. Vin: Only if you like losing

Like Kaladin, Vin wins all. the. time. But unlike Kaladin, she doesn't come late & then win in a blaze of sudden glory, no. She simply...destroys you. Continuously and brutally for the entire night.

6. Harmony: No

No offense to Harmony, who's a good dude 'n' all, but man, he takes FOREVER to make his next move. It's like--we're playing Sorry. You either move forward 10 or back 1. It's just two choices! How is he thinking for like 10 billion years??

7. Lopen: Maybe

Lopen likes to play around and tease people. He MAY mock you a little too much when your attempt to "Draw 2" him backfires and you find yourself drawing 8 cards in Uno... but other than that, he's a good time.

8. Blushweaver: Maybe

You didn't realize checkers even COULD be played as "Strip Checkers."

9. Tien: Yes

Tien is mostly concerned with making sure that everyone else is having a good time. Even after he gets killed during a round of "Werewolves," he continues to grin and encourage the rest of you to have a good time. W-Wait, why do you suddenly feel like crying?

10. Skar: Yes

Like Tien, Skar also seems chiefly concerned with making sure everyone else has a good time. Bonus: he's GREAT at explaining the rules!

11. Lightsong: Depends on how competitive you are

Ask yourself this: if there's a guy there who wins every game despite clearly and loudly not understanding the rules, would that be fun? If yes, then go for it. If no, then don't invite Lightsong--he doesn't understand how to play Hearts and he doesn't care to, yet he has shot the moon TWICE.

12. Nale: No

No one likes a rules lawyer.

13. Shai: Yes

Shai knows all of these obscure, complicated games that actually turn out to be really fun!

14. Hoid: No

Hoid knows all of these obscure, complicated games and while he does explain the rules, you can't shake the feeling that he's actually playing by an entirely different set of rules that he's not being totally honest about...

15. Elend: Yes

Elend was born to participate in board game nights weekly.

16. Telsin: No

She cheats 100% of the time. You didn't even know it was POSSIBLE to cheat in Connect 4, but she somehow found a way...

17. Raboniel: Well...

Raboniel is ENORMOUSLY competitive and cares very deeply about winning...but she also respects the game. She is surprisingly gracious about losing despite her eyes blazing with the heat of ten million suns as she slapped down that 7-letter word in Scrabble. Yet when you responded with your own, better 7-letter word, clinching the victory, you could tell that she respected you for it.

...But on the other hand, you've been clammy with fear sweats for 45 minutes now.

[back2bluesidex]

Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 7- Finale (18+)

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok. 

Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!

Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, smut

Warnings: some explicit smut, Jungkook being immature, a little time leap, a fairy tale ending. NSFW!!!

Word count: 5k+

Taglist requests are closed.

Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog

A/N: Guys, we have come to the end. ngl, I am emotional and sad and not ready to let them go yet. but it's been more than 10 months since I started this series and it's the right time to end it. Please let me know about your thoughts in the comment section or in my askbox. More notes at the end.

Main Masterlist

Chapters:- 

Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale

There is a lot in Jungkook’s mind. 

He has been trying to calm himself down, trying not to think about you and focus on Jiwon but he has been failing terribly. 

The person he thinks of (or misses) mostly during all of his waking hours is, you. 

He knows he has been a dick to you. He borderline stalked you, invaded your privacy, riled you up and tried to justify his actions even when he should be the last person to do so. 

But he couldn’t help it. 

He still can’t. Just the thought of you belonging to someone else other than him drives him insane. 

Something shifted inside of him after that night. Something shifted so terribly that now he is questioning his life choices. 

He is questioning if he really fell out of love with you or not? ‘Cause if that was the case, his blood wouldn’t boil when your special client almost kissed you. 

Also, he wouldn’t walk up to your door and start questioning you as if he still has some kind of rights over you. 

So, what is it? 

Why does being with Jiwon never seem to be as exciting as it was with you? Why does kissing her never ignite that insatiable hunger you could induce with your lips? Why can’t he picture a future with her like he used to daydream with you? 

Why? 

He misses you! Fuck! He misses you! 

His eyes crave for your one sight, his skin wants your touch, his ears are dying to hear you call his name once. 

He doesn’t realize when he starts crying silently. 

He takes a hold of his phone and opens the gallery. Scrolling through the application he looks for the evidence of your once in-bloom relationship. 

But he finds none.

There is not a single photo. 

No photos from Jimin’s show two years ago, no photos from the last picnic of you two, no photos from the jeju trip, no photos with your parents. Not a single one. 

He frowns at that. 

He very certainly didn’t delete a single file. Then where are those memories? 

“Kook, can you drop me off at the set?” Jiwon speaks from behind the couch. 

He doesn’t pay attention at first, his fingers work vehemently scrolling up and down on the device. 

“Kook!” she almost screams now. 

“What?” Jungkook screams back. 

“What are you so busy with that you can’t even hear me out?” 

“My photos-” Jungkook starts speaking but he stops immediately. 

He never locked his personal phone with a password or whatever, so it remains accessible to almost everyone. Given the fact that he mostly uses his work phone, this particular device stays at home, unlocked.

“Did you.. Did you go through my phone?” he asks finally. 

Suspicion takes over his mind when Jiwon doesn’t say anything for several seconds. 

“I asked you something, Jiwon.” 

“Why? Is there something wrong?” Jiwon raises one of her eyebrows. 

“You know exactly what’s wrong, don’t you?” 

“I don’t think we should be having this conversation now-” “Why did you delete her photos? Who the fuck gave you the right to?” 

Jungkook yells at the top of his lungs, taking Jiwon by surprise. 

“What do you mean I don’t have the right? I am your girlfriend and she is your past, Jungkook! You’re supposed to let her go! Why are you still looking at her pictures?” Jiwon screams back, by the time her sentence ends, she is crying. 

“Because I love her. Yes! Yes, I still love her.” Jungkook yells as if he is realizing the words himself and not just telling Jiwon for the sake of it. The realization hits him like a truck.

“What? What are you-”

“I thought I liked you, Jiwon. But it was an illusion. It has always been her. I never felt for you as intensely as I felt for her.. I feel for her. I- I’m sorry. This is so fucked up! I am sorry to both of you. I misjudged my feelings and now-” 

“Stop it! Stop it! I can’t hear it anymore. Let’s take a break, Jungkook. Let’s take a few days away from each other. It will be fine. It will be fine.” 

Before Jungkook could reply to her, Jiwon runs out of the door. 

He knows he is the main culprit here. He hurt you both. But he also knows nothing can be fine anymore. Not at least between him and Jiwon. 

About you though, he can beg you until you take him back. 

You still love him after all. Don’t you? 

Jungkook feels nauseated as the scene unfolds right in front of him. 

He has come to beg you. He has come to tell you that he would do anything for you to take him back, he even lied for you to open the door. He did all of these only to have you turn your back at him. 

You tell him it’s too late but he is adamant. He silently promises himself that he will win you back but just then his eyes fall on the purple bruises littered all around your throat. 

You look like someone has been kissing you breathless. 

His heart drops at the thought. But he consoles himself, tells himself that you still love him and only him. 

But his fears take shape when a male voice speaks from the dining place of your once shared apartment, “Didn’t you hear what she said? She asked you to leave, Mr. Jeon.” 

Jungkook’s blood starts boiling when he sees it’s the guy from the other day. Your special client. 

So you are most definitely sleeping with him. 

“And who are you to come between us?” he grits through his teeth. Everything he sees is red. 

“I am her boyfriend.” the man replies as he comes to stand between Jungkook and you. 

Jungkook chuckles evilly, “No. You are just a rebound she is using to get over me.”

Jungkook expected the man to retort, to have a crack in his confidence but he only smirks, “I think you are confusing reality with your fantasy, Mr. Jeon.” 

The older guy gives him a flashing smile and continues, “you know her better than me. Do you really think she will be using someone for her own needs and benefits?” 

Jungkook’s heart breaks further. 

He knows you are definitely not a hypocrite. He knows if this guy is in your house, calling himself your boyfriend then he is your boyfriend. 

But he is determined to fight until he can’t anymore. 

He will be fighting until he wins you back. 

He diverts his attention to you again, “Y/N please-”

“Jungkook.. Now is not the right time. Let’s talk. Let’s talk things out but not now. I will text you the time and place. Please leave now. Please do as I say for once.” you cut him off. 

Your calm voice calms him down as well. And he decides to listen to you. 

“You promise to meet me?” 

“I promise.” 

You cover your face with your hands as soon as the door closes behind you. 

You are ashamed, so terribly ashamed of whatever happened that it’s tough to even look at Hoseok. 

He doesn’t deserve this, neither do you. 

“I’m sorry. I- I’m so fucking sorry, Hoseok.” you mumble inside your palms. 

Hoseok’s strong arms wrap around you and pull you into a hug. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. It's not your fault.” Hoseok speaks into your ear with his soft and comforting voice. Stroking your hair with one hand, he pats on your back with another. 

You’re incredibly grateful that you found this man and he likes you as much as you like him. 

If your life had driven Jungkook away to make space for Hoseok, then you would be incredibly happy with the sacrifices you made. 

“You don’t mind me seeing him, right?” you speak into Hoseok’s shoulder.

“No. Not at all. As long as you come back to me… I will be fine.” 

“You can be assured about that. I will always come back to you no matter what.” 

You can’t help but smile to yourself a little at the turn of events. 

Almost two months ago you were sitting at the same restaurant, in the same cabin, at the same spot. You were waiting for the same person but the reason was completely different. 

That day you were all nervous and fidgety. You knew you were aiming at a blind spot and your efforts might be nullified but you were determined to try. 

You were even ready to beg Jungkook if that means he would stay beside you, with you. 

And today, the situation has taken a wild turn. 

You are here to hear him out and today he might become the one to beg you to take him back. Your ego soars high but you know how to keep that in check. 

Jungkook is, as usual, late. 

When he finally arrives, he apologizes a ton of times, “I’m so sorry, Y/N. The traffic was so bad today.” 

“It’s okay. But I don’t have much time, so can you please tell me why you have been pulling all those stunts lately?” you start the conversation. Even though you are very worked up, you try to keep your voice neutral. 

“I- I am sorry, Y/N. I am actually ashamed. I know I shouldn’t have barged into your house like that or question you about your life. But I couldn’t- I couldn’t stop myself. At first I told myself that I am just concerned for you. But later I realized I have been deceiving myself. I have deceived myself for that every second I thought I didn’t love you anymore or I loved someone else. That’s not true. I- I still love you. I love you so damn much.” By the time Jungkook completes, his eyes turn glassy. 

The anger you have felt prior to this moment, vanishes into thin air. Now you feel bad for him. You really do. 

You nod, “I understand. It’s common for us to misjudge our feelings on several occasions but” inhaling a sharp breath you continue, “what’s done can’t be undone.” 

Jungkook leaves his seat and walks around the table to reach where you are sitting and then he is sinking down on his knees, “Y/N please. Please give me another chance. I- I will make things right.” he grabs your hands with his huge ones. Big fat trails of tears roll down his cheeks. 

The scene breaks your heart even further. 

You break his hold on your hands and hold him by his shoulders, hoisting him up on his feet. 

“Jungkook, there is no point in doing this. You know I have moved on.” 

“But- but you still love me. Don’t you? Tell me honestly, Y/N. don’t you still love me?” 

“A part of me will always be loving you, Jungkook. You have given me so much after all.” you give him a small smile, “but I have left that part behind. And now, I’m afraid, I’m in love with someone else." Just the thought of Hoseok puts your mind at ease. 

“Y/N- that guy has a kid!”

You chuckle at his complaint, “and how does that make him less deserving of love?” 

“He is a good human being, Jungkook, and he loves me just as much. That’s more than enough for me. I was never very demanding in the first place, you know that.” 

Jungkook doesn’t seem to understand just yet, “One last chance, please?”

You exhale loudly now. Diverting your eyes from him you murmur, “I love Hoseok, Kook. I really do. Please let me go now. Please?” 

Jungkook burst into tears upon hearing your verdict. You step closer to his body and hold him close to you. You pat on his back to calm him down. 

As a few seconds pass, he seems to stabilize himself. 

“But I won’t be giving up on you. I will wait. I will wait for you to take me back.” Jungkook states with a weird determination. 

You don’t say anything but nod a little. 

If Hoseok says he is completely comfortable with the idea of you meeting Jungkook alone, then it will be a lie. 

Because he is very much afraid of what may come out of this meeting. 

What if you decide to give the guy another chance? 

Hoseok trusts you with the entirety of his heart but sometimes fears are greater than the trust itself. 

This is the fifth time he takes a look at his watch. The meeting is still an hour away and the drive from the restaurant to the school is only fifteen to twenty minutes, so if you come out now, he will have enough time to understand what has been your decision. 

Just when he is about to peek at his watch another time, the restaurant door slides open and you walk out. 

You give him one of your iconic blinding smiles while running towards him to fall back into his arms.

Hoseok is now relieved. 

Because the way you smiled at him, the way you ran to his arms and the way you are placing a kiss on his lips now, tells him that he has nothing to worry about. 

That he has you all to himself now. 

He kisses you back with urgency, as if to confirm that you are really here in front of him. 

“You okay?” Hoseok asked once you are on your feet properly. 

“Umm.. I was fine. But now that I get to see this handsome face of my boyfriend, I feel even better.” you flirt shamelessly. 

God! How can you be this addictive? 

The tip of Hoseok’s ear turn red. He smiles a little sheepishly. He can’t remember the last time he felt this giddy around a woman. 

He squeezes your sides, lips almost find yours to capture in another kiss but a voice interrupted the affectionate moment. 

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” The question is directed at him. When Hoseok looks for the source of voice, he finds your ex, Jeon Jungkook, standing right behind you. 

He leaves your side, you turn around to face the younger man. 

“Jung-”

“Sure” Hoseok cuts you off. 

If Jungkook has something to say, he would make sure to share a piece of his mind as well. 

Hoseok non-verbally asks you to sit in the car while he figures out what in the world Jungkook would say to him. 

Once you are inside the car Jungkook starts speaking, “Just so you know, I won’t give up. I will always be here for her if she decides to come back to me.” 

Hoseok smiles at that “that won’t be necessary, I believe.” 

Jungkook fixes him with a glare, “I don’t know how things escalated between you and her but she-” he pauses at first and then diverts his eyes from Hoseok’s face, looks towards the car, “she is in love with you.” 

“The feelings are mutual.” Hoseok replies, keeping his calm demeanor. 

“Just don’t fuck things up like I did. Don’t hurt her like I-” he doesn’t continue.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.” 

“What did you two talk about?” you seem to be genuinely curious about what your ex boyfriend had to say to your recent boyfriend. 

“You don’t need to know that, sweety.” teases Hoseok. 

You huff at his reply. 

In the span of your short relationship one thing Hoseok got to know about you is that you are incredibly cute when teased and he takes advantage of that knowledge whenever there is an opportunity.

“Okay but just tell me if he cursed you or something like that?” Now he knows that you are worried. 

“Not a chance, Y/N. He wouldn’t get away doing that, I am an attorney, remember?” he gives you one of those smiles that he knows you love way too much to admit.  

You nod. 

“You need to boast about your profession for this upcoming meeting a lot.” you say after a moment of silence.

“I know” Hoseok’s voice turns serious, “but I don’t know if I can do this or not, Y/N. I might just lose my cool.” 

You rest your left hand on his right one. Squeezing the same a little you reply, “I am here with you, Hoseok. I will handle it if things go out of hand, even though I don’t think that'll be the case.”

Hoseok’s mind sets itself on ease. If you are with him, he can do this. If you are with him, he can do anything.

“So.. you want me to believe that my son has been bullying your daughter?” The pitch of Jaemin’s mother’s voice is unnecessarily high and it hurts Hoseok’s ears. But he tries to calm himself down while focusing on your touch where you are holding his hand under the table. 

“Yes.” hoseok voices. 

“Do you have any proof?” the woman cocks one of her eyebrows. 

 “I am the proof myself, Mrs. Park. Being Sua’s therapist, I have gotten the chance to talk to her. Or rather I would say, I have made her talk to me as the child was way too afraid to share anything. And I assure you, your son has been bullying Jung Sua by outcasting her, calling her names that probably he doesn’t even know the meaning of, locking her in dark rooms and by damaging her relationship with her father. All apparently because she doesn’t have a mother.” you complete with a professional tone, something that the other woman can’t dare to defy. 

“B-but he is just seven years old-”

“That’s exactly my point, Mrs. Park. Given the fact that Jaemin is only seven years old, there is no way he knows what illegitimate is. He must have heard it from someone. Someone he could easily pick it up from.” you lean a little towards the table, narrowing your eyes on the woman. 

“What? What are you trying to say? Are you blaming me? That I have bad-mouthed Sua or something?” Jaemin’s mother screams at the top of her lungs. 

“Ma’am please, don’t shout.” the homeroom teacher rushes to stop the woman from yelling. 

“Yeobo! Stop it.” Jaemin’s father tries to do the same. 

He has been quiet from the start and from the looks of it, you can tell that the man is wiser than his wife. He probably understands what you and Hoseok are trying to convey. 

“We have not said anything explicitly. But you are getting worked up anyway, which suggests you are the one he picked it up from. If that’s the case then… just so you know that I can sue you for defaming my family and indirectly torturing my daughter.” Hoseok states flatly, even though his insides are burning already. 

“No. no, Mr. Jung. I am sorry for what has happened. I know my apologies are not enough and these can never undo the mental trauma that my son has caused to your daughter but I promise I will move him to a different school. Just please don’t drag us into anything legal. Please.” the man, who is clearly the oldest in the room, practically pleads Hoseok. 

Hoseok feels a little uneasy but then you squeeze his hand again, giving him a sign to settle the matter here. 

“I am okay with the proposition.” he lets everyone know. 

“Okay. This is settled then.” the homeroom teacher huffs out of relief. 

“We are all good now.” you say as the two of you are outside of the school.

“Thank-”

“Shut it, Hoseok. Thank me one more time and I will run away.” you whine angrily, a little pout graces your pretty lips. Hoseok wants to kiss it again and again.

He laughs instead. 

“Okay okay fine. Let’s go home.” he pulls you closer to his body by holding onto your forearms. 

“Sua is away on a Gwangju trip, right?” you seem to recall it finally. 

“Oh yeah. We can have our own trip tonight, baby.” Hoseok replies, licking on his bottom lips. His eyes drop on the narrow opening of your dress shirt. 

“What trip?” you smirk.

“Sex trip.” he whispers, squeezing on your waist. 

“Oh my god! Ho-Hoseok!” you groan seductively as Hoseok pounds on you as roughly as possible. 

He spreacds your asscheeks with both of his hands to take a look at the spot where his cock is disappearing into your hole. 

“Fuck baby! You are taking me so good. Your little cunt is swallowing my cunt so well, baby.” he praises, you moan as a reply. 

Two of his fingers chase your clit to draw slow, torturing circles.

“God! You are swollen!” he bemoans when his fingers come in contact with your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“Guess who ate me out minutes ago? As if it was his last meal?” you manage to say in between your ragged breaths. 

“Can’t help when you taste so good!” His reply is accompanied with a harsh thrust.

“Hoseok. -seok ah, I’m clo-” and even before you could complete your sentence, you cum.

The sight of you on all fours, drenching his cock while moaning his name, makes the tension in his lower stomach unbearable. 

So he releases inside the condom embarrassingly early. 

You fall on your face on his mattress, he falls on top of you.

“Let me run you a bath, hm?” he says in your hair. You nod. 

“Y/N” Hoseok calls your name as he strokes your hair softly. 

“Hm?” you mumble in his chest.

“I am thinking of telling Sua once she comes back from Gwangju. What do you say?” 

Your heart races at the thought. Honestly, you have been pondering on the topic for the past few days. You totally understand if Hoseok doesn't want to tell her anything just yet. But you also wondered what if she rejects you, unapproves you just as she did with Mina. 

“We should tell her. But-” you let your voice fade.

“But?”

You pull your face away from Hoseok’s chest and look into his eyes, “what if she doesn’t-” 

“I love you. I will be loving you, nothing can change that. And if she doesn’t approve of us together, I will try my best to change her mind.”  He gives you a smile. 

You return the gesture and you find solace in his chest again. 

“Oh I always knew.” Sua is more focused on the cookies you baked her than the conversation, which is indeed very serious. 

“You knew what?” you try to coax the answer out of her. Her father is sitting still with his mouth open ajar. 

“I knew that daddy likes you. And that you like daddy." She bites on the cookie. 

“How did you know it, Sua?” your eyes open much wider than you have ever had them opened. 

“He doesn’t take anyone to the bakery, you know. Not even emo and halmoni. And the way he panicked when I talked about Mina aunty.” the kid giggles. 

Apparently, a seven year old caught on to the feelings of two adults. You two have been that obvious all these time. 

“So… you are okay with Y/N?” Hoseok asks. It is as lf he is asking permission from his parents, which in this case might have been less nerve wrecking.  

“Ummm yeah. I like her and I always wanted a mommy.” Sua smiles at you. Her eyes crinkle. 

Is this what true validation feels like? 

Not what your partner thinks about how your dress or makeup looks or how well you have been taking care of your skin, but a seven year old kid, giving you the place of her mother despite knowing you for less than two months? It is true validation for sure. 

Tears prick your eyes but you are quick to blink those away. 

“I will try my best to be your best mommy, Sua. I promise.” you open your arms wide. Sua takes the invitation and jumps on your embrace. 

You hug her smaller frame, while your smaller frame gets engulfed by Hoseok’s body. You feel his tears on your head. 

A year later

Jungkook was euphoric when he got your message a week ago. You had asked him to meet you at the same place where he broke your heart once and then in turn you broke his. 

But… 

Today he got a good feeling about it. 

It’s been more than a year since he fucked up and lost you. And as if to redeem himself, he waited for you. 

He checked up on you from time to time. He asked to see you, even though you declined. But what’s more important is that he kept telling himself one day you will be coming back to him. 

And he thinks… today is the day. 

He is not late today, rather he came thirty minutes earlier than the time you decided to meet. However, waiting makes him nervous. And waiting for you is overwhelmingly so. 

The cabin door creaks open and he sees you entering.

It’s been more than a year since he last saw you. If there’s anything that has changed by the time, then it’s that you have gotten even more beautiful. 

You look gorgeous in the midnight blue bodycon dress that you chose to wear today. He can’t help but grasp at your beauty. 

And when you smile at him, fully, he loses his breath. 

How the fuck did I even think I fell out of love with her? he thinks to himself. 

“Hey” you chime in, taking the seat across from him, “you are in time.”

“Yeah. I didn’t want to disappoint you. Not this time.” he replies genuinely. But he can see your smile dulling a bit. 

“So..” you start. Jungkook crosses his fingers under the table, “how are you doing, Kook?” 

“I am doing fine, Y/N, at least physically. But mentally, I don’t know. I am- I am not over you yet.” he confesses. 

You sigh, “you should move on, Jungkook. It’s been more than a year. It’s time for you to forgive yourself and move on.” 

“I don’t even want to try, Y/N. I am going to wait for you.” and he is serious about it. 

“Okay. Now let me come to the reason behind wanting to meet you.” you change the topic as you busy yourself in looking for something inside your bag. 

You pull out an envelope and extend it towards him.

One look at it and Jungkook knows what it is and suddenly he can’t breathe at all. 

“I’m getting married next month, Jungkook and I would be very happy if you come to congratulate me and Hoseok.” you look at him as if you are pitying him. 

He laughs. He laughs out loud, “You really are getting married to him?” 

“Yes. Thank you for leaving me back then. If you didn’t leave me, I would have never seen this day or be as happy as I am now.” 

Jungkook tries to find mockery in your voice or in your eyes but what he finds is sincerity. 

You are actually thankful to him for leaving you. 

The heavy door of the waiting room opens as a staff walks in, “ma’am you have a visitor.” she says before standing away from the door and allowing the visitor to come in. 

It’s Jungkook. 

You never expected him to actually come. But he did and you are happy to see him here. 

“Kook.” you call him, making him smile. 

Jungkook ogles at you. You look like a dream come true. You look better than his imagination in which you wore this white gown to take vows with him. 

And it would been him if he was good enough, instead, he had to fuck things up.

“You look beautiful, Y/N. You look perfect.” Jungkook’s genuine words make your heart melt. 

“Thanks. I am glad you came.” 

“I had to. Congratulations. I am happy for you.” Jungkook smiles easily, he extends his hand to invite you into his embrace. 

You accept it. 

A knock rings on the door. 

“Y/N. come out. It’s time.” Mi seon screams from outside. 

“Yeah coming.” you reply, breaking the hug, taking one last look into your ex-boyfriend’s eyes.  

Hoseok had never thought a day like this would come for him as well. 

A day where he would wear an immaculate tuxedo, stand at the pavilion and wait for his bride to walk up to him. 

But it’s happening. 

And it’s happening all because of you. 

It’s safe to say that you have changed his and Sua’s life within this one year. And now he can’t imagine a life where you aren’t there to make it better. 

Sua, too, now loves you more than him, probably. 

His parents love you, his sister cherishes you, his friends call you incredible. 

All in all, he has found heaven in you. And he hopes you found peace in him as well. 

The piano starts playing as you appear at the other side of the aisle, holding your father by his arm. 

You are smiling from ear to ear. Even from a distance he can tell that you are staring right at him. 

You know Hoseok is devastatingly handsome, but he looks even dreamier as a groom. You could cry from just the way he stares at you with eyes full of love. 

Your father squeezes the back of your hand, nodding at you and probably praising your choice in men. 

Initially you were scared of your parents' reaction, of what they might think when they get to know that Hoseok is a single-father and he has never been married before.

But with Hoseok, things can’t go wrong. Your parents accepted him and Sua readily when they got to know his past. 

Now, your parents and Sua are practically inseparable. 

You start walking towards the man of your dream waiting for you to make him yours. 

When you get closer to him, he holds your hands so softly as if you are made of porcelain. 

One by one you take the vows, intertwining your life with his. 

“You may kiss the bride.” The priest says. 

Hoseok lowers his head to catch your lips, “forever?” he asks.

“Forever.” you answer, as you seal your promise for an eternity.      

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A/N: Thanks thanks thanks to all of you for being incredible readers. I really can't thank you all enough for being so into the story, for interacting with me through the progress, for being as attached to the characters as I am, for being patient whenever I was late to upload. Where Do Broken Hearts Go will remain very close to my heart and your positive reaction is a big part of the reasons why. Just know that Nika loves you. Nika loves every single one of you a ton! <3