#and his younger self would say ‘i told you so’ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zreamy · 5 months

Text

i'll love you forever

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

summary: you were sunghoon's first everything; first friend, first love, and first heartbreak. after years of quietly crushing on you, he was finally ready to confess. so ready to confess, that he told his parents the two of you were already dating! it was an easy enough lie to keep up and he kept it up for months, what could possibly go wrong? he thought. little did he know, you would have a falling out and stop talking for months.. and then, you'd both get invited to spend a week at home with his parents, who still believe you're his girlfriend.

genre: smut, fluff, angst, college au, childhood best friends to lovers, fake dating

warnings: minors dni, fake dating is pretty mild (sorry), she kinda doesn’t rate him at the start, these two kind of exist in a vacuum a little bit idk i had a self-enforced word count to stick to and broke it.. (im within the 10% allowance !), sunghoon in a vest, sunghoon arms, sunghoon

word count: 21,858

playlist: click here.. (for my non-spotify babes, the main song is light by wave to earth (which for some reason i put last.. whatever))

author's note: for silly @asahicore. happy birthday pooks i hope it's amazing and that u enjoy reading this when u have the time !!! LOL (lots of love) also im never writing without telling you things again this was so absurd.

to everyone else.. ok happy reading also emma did not beta read this so im sure it's missing its charm .. anyway it's for emma not you 😭 anyway i hope u enjoy regardless and lmk ur thoughts! omg this is the first fic im nervous about posting.......... please enjoy or else.

In the three years since Park Sunghoon moved away for university, he’d been doing a pretty good job of going home to see his parents. They’d welcome their baby back to the nest with open arms and wide grins. With a rehearsed level of indifference, his younger sister, Yeji, would say, “Oh, I didn’t know you were coming home this weekend.” when she saw him at the dinner table. Sunghoon pretended to only be marginally hurt by this.

In the last three months, he hasn’t so much as sent a text to his parents.

Or to you.

Ignoring texts from his mother is devastating. Between classes, he watches as, “Hi, sweetie, I love you 😍,” turns into, “Missing you, honey, know you must be busy but spare some time for your old mummy, no?” which turns into, “Getting really worried now, are you doing okay? Has something happened with YN? Talk to me, I love you, my baby boy!”

Ignoring texts from you is easy because texts from you never come.

Sitting at the end of his bed, Sunghoon rereads a text his mother sent a few minutes ago: Please talk to me, son. Really worried and YN isn’t answering calls either. What’s going on with you two?

When he leaves his room, he finds Jake lying on the couch, and with his keys in hand, Sunghoon says, “I’m going home.”

And the drive is great! At least, he tells his mum it is. In truth, the drive home without you was nearly impossible. Your ever-expanding home time playlist buzzed through the speakers in his car, but without you there to screech along to the songs, it wasn’t the same. He felt your absence the most when he stopped to get petrol and you weren’t there behind him struggling to carry enough snacks to feed a small family without offering to pay.

The look of worry on his mum’s face stirs a pit in his stomach. “Why are you so quiet these days? God, you look so tired,” she says, frowning. “Is it school? Or something with YN? It’s not like her not to text back.” Her brows crease as she whispers the word unless. She pulls him into a hug, her chin resting perfectly on his shoulder, and her comforting hand strokes the hair on the back of his head. “Breakups are never easy, honey. I’m so sorry, I know how much you love her.”

Breakups are never easy. The sentence hangs heavy over his head.

Whether she knows it or not, she’s handed him a get-out-of-jail-free card, the opportunity to set things straight, to end this mess once and for all. No further questions, and most importantly, no more lies.

For the first time since he left your flat three months ago, Sunghoon lets himself cry. He’d imagined this moment countless times, his first cry since you ended things. In his mind, it was always intense. Today, as it happens, only a few salty tears leak from his eyes, spilling onto the cuff of his sleeve, darkening the blue cotton in tiny indigo splotches.

“We didn’t break up,” he says in a small voice—for some reason. “I’m just having a hard time.” Neither statement is technically untrue, but the words taste rotten in his mouth.

The tightening grip of his mum’s arms around his body is what brings on the harsh, shoulder-racking sobs he’d been anticipating. For a while, they stand like this, Sunghoon weeping into his mum’s cardigan until she sends him upstairs to lie down, promising a cup of tea that never comes.

His childhood bedroom is chilly, so he changes into clothes he left behind and climbs into bed, pulling his duvet up to his chin. He turns his head to look at the walls and the room around him, everything is exactly where he left it in the summer. It should be comforting, but it’s weird to be home without you.

There are photos of you and him everywhere, growing up and around each other through different stages of life. The two of you together during the summer your family moved in next door, you wore glasses back then and were the first friend he’d made in his life. Sunbathing and sharing earphones at the beach, listening to music together on your iPod classic. Sunghoon in thick glasses with a stiff smile and your arm around him on the first day of high school. Wide grins at the start of this summer, the last time things were okay between you.

Overwhelmed, he stares up at the ceiling, only realising he’s crying when a hot tear slips from his eyes to tickle his ear. Because Sunghoon likes to upset himself, he screws his eyes shut and thinks about the night before you stopped talking.

Though he didn’t know it at the time, you’d left Yeonjun’s place to sit with him in a tiny restaurant on campus, the one you’d only visit to toast to each other’s heartbreaks. It had become a ritual — ever since your first year boyfriend dumped you after two weeks — to cry as much as you wanted and drink as much soju as your bodies could handle before stumbling back to your apartments.

Having spent years suffering from an unrequited crush on his best friend, Sunghoon was always the one to comfort you. But that night was different; you were there to comfort him. It was easy enough to play the part of ‘boy whose crush likes someone else’ because he spent your entire friendship in that role. He’d had no problem accepting his fate, but his composure started to slip when you met Yeonjun. It was the first time you’d dated someone who Sunghoon had reason to be jealous of. In every way, Yeonjun was better than him—taller, funnier, hotter. Sunghoon knew he didn’t stand a chance. He took it personally, you liking Yeonjun instead of him, and let his jealousy consume him from the inside out.

This jealousy led him to start telling you about Minjeong—lying to you about Minjeong, and his feelings for her. She was a girl from a college out of town that he saw on his Instagram Explore page. He followed her by accident, and by some stroke of luck, she followed back. Sunghoon didn’t really have feelings for her — he didn’t even know her — but she was a girl that you didn’t know, so you wouldn’t be able to meddle.

It only took a few weeks for Sunghoon to become so upset about your relationship that he couldn’t hide his emotions anymore. So, in a fit of tears, he told you over the phone that things ended badly with Minjeong, and he was in urgent need of a soju ceremony.

But the night was missing its usual comforts.

It was strange to be the one crying, to see you looking put together and ordering the food. To see you pouring the drinks and raising your glass to propose a toast to ‘Hoonie’s first heartbreak’. You were driving that night, so you only had a tiny sip of soju and let him drink as much as he needed, the way he always did for you, at the same table, in the same restaurant for years.

Hours later, in your car, you entertained his drunken rambles, though he remembers how your lips were set into a frown that he wanted to kiss away while you gripped the steering wheel like you thought it would run from you. Sunghoon was more drunk than he’d been in a while, drunk enough to let you sling his arm over your shoulders and keep him upright until you reached his flat.

The voices coming from Yeji’s room disrupt the memory. He’s thankful.

“Your brother’s going through something, so be nice to him this weekend.” His mother’s voice is her version of hushed—a loud whisper.

Yeji’s response is harder to make out, but he doesn’t miss the way their mum says, “I mean it, missy.”

A dramatic sigh rumbles through Yeji as she barges into his room without knocking. Sunghoon sits up, feeling an ache in his back and crossing his legs.

“Mum told me to lay off you today, which is fine, but before I do, I need to tell you something.”

Yeji pushes the door shut behind her, and the open window makes it slam, both of them flinching from the sudden noise. She pulls her hair out of a silk scrunchie and throws herself on the floor. A pang of irritation forms in his chest, knowing that he could immediately find the empty hanger in his wardrobe where the shirt she’s wearing used to live.

“I hate you and your perfect golden boy image, Hoon. Would it kill you to fail a class for once? I don’t know how I’m supposed to carry on your legacy.” She’s looking up at him, her chin in her hands and irritation written in the crease between her thick brows.

It’s impossible to know if it’s because of Yeji’s complete lack of boundaries or the fact that her ‘perfect, golden boy’ big brother is on track to fail three out of three classes and get cut from the hockey team, but Sunghoon immediately bursts into tears.

“Oh, uh.. I’m sorry?” Yeji offers. “I was kidding if that helps.”

“I’m alright, it’s okay.” The tears don’t stop stinging his eyes. “Why do you want me to change everything about myself?”

With a frown, Yeji pours out her frustration and mild resentment. She doesn’t understand how Sunghoon effortlessly conquers every aspect of life while she struggles. Neither do their parents, who had been baffled by her plummeting grades since she moved to boarding school, especially when Sunghoon’s academic performance has only soared since he left for university. The weight of this perceived injustice pulls Sunghoon’s shoulders down with guilt as she talks about the expectations he has inadvertently set for her.

“But other than that, I’m good.” She shrugs, sitting with her legs out, and leaning back on her palms. “How’s YN?” she asks. It’s clear from the brightness in her voice that she thinks she’s helping.

Sunghoon cries again.

Back on campus, he’s trying to scrape together what’s left of his academic career with the help of two of the smartest guys he knows, and their friend Jay. Though the word ‘friend’ feels a little strong at the moment given the way Jay’s goading him.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, sitting back in his seat. “There’s nothing you can do that I can’t,” he says, meaning every word.

Jay scoffs, shrugging and raising his brow in a way that, over the years, Sunghoon knows to interpret as his ‘about to say something ridiculous’ look. “Pretty sure I could call YN right now, and she’d answer.”

There’s a pit in Sunghoon’s stomach as Heeseung turns his head in the other direction like he’s been slapped, trembling with stifled laughter. At least Jake doesn’t hide his amusement, throwing his head back in a fit of giggles that draw nasty looks from the other students in the library. Sunghoon doesn’t waste his energy trying to argue because Jay’s right.

Now composed, Heeseung turns back to the table, flipping through some of Sunghoon’s course materials to find whatever his class was doing in class that week. The English Literature class he’s taking — The Modernist Movement: Joyce, Woolf, and Hemingway — is the same class he had to send a million emails over the summer to get enrolled in, but it’s the same one Heeseung aced two years ago. Lucky for him none of the boys seem to be in the mood to make fun of him for trying so hard to have a class in common with you, and then practically failing out of it before the term had started properly.

“This class is, like, beyond easy, dude.” Heeseung pauses to sniffle and twist the stud in his ear. “Everyone in my class aced it. How are you doing so badly already?”

“I only took it because YN thought it’d be fun if we had a class together, but.. I kind of haven’t been going since we stopped talking.” Sunghoon shrugs, pretending to be unaffected.

As if the mere mention of your name has some sort of summoning power, like saying Biggie Smalls in the mirror three times, you appear in his eye line, rounding the corner with a furious stride. Your demeanour crumbles when Jay waves at you, and you grin, waving back, but as soon as you look Sunghoon in the eye again, the rage comes back, and you smack a hand on the table when you reach it, leaning over to him.

“Sunghoon, a word?” you ask.

He thinks you’re asking, but it’s hard to tell with the way you set your jaw afterwards, and the way the warmth of your signature vanilla scent hits him hard. Dazed, Sunghoon lifts a hand, pointing at himself. “Me?”

“Does anyone else at the table answer to Sunghoon?”

“Okay,” he says, somewhat pathetically, nudging Jay for laughing at him.

As slowly as possible, Sunghoon pushes his chair from the table and stands up, following you to the corner of the references section where only anthropology students in scratchy thrift store knits, and Jay, come to check out encyclopaedias by volume. You look good, save for the rage written all over your face—which, honestly, Sunghoon thinks he likes.

Sunghoon isn’t sure what to expect, so he says, “Hey.” He’s being cautious, waiting a moment to gauge your reaction. “What’s gooooood?” His cheeks burn as soon as he closes his mouth around the vowel, but you laugh. You laugh, and it’s beautiful and happy, and you’re laughing because of him—or at him, but he’s glad either way.

Annoyance quickly clears all traces of amusement on your face. “Were you ever going to tell me we’re spending next week at Mum and Dad’s?” you ask.

Sunghoon gasps dramatically, clicking his fingers. “I knew there was something I’ve been meaning to do.”

His attempt at lightening the mood falls flat, and you only nudge his shoulder gently, sighing. “Can you be serious? For once in your life, even for a second, can you please think about how the things you say affect me?” You’re frowning, crossing your arms over your chest and looking at your feet. “It’s not fair, Sunghoon. For you to keep saying things—making plans involving me and then acting like I’m the bad guy when I turn you down.”

“I don’t think you’re the bad guy at all,” Sunghoon admits. “If anyone is in the wrong, it’s me, I guess.”

You scoff, looking at him like you hate him. “You guess? Are you serious?” You look furious, but you sound hurt and Sunghoon hates it. Hates himself. “I can’t have this conversation with you right now. Tell mum I’m sick, and it’s contagious.” You roll your eyes and walk away, leaving Sunghoon alone with his thoughts and judgemental stares from students in crochet scarves so long they graze the floor.

He sighs, slumping against the wall. How does he keep getting it wrong with you?

Back at the table, Sunghoon manages to act like he’s not falling apart and makes some serious headway on his missing assignments with Heeseung’s help before they call it a day as the sun starts to set.

When he gets home, he lies down on his bedroom floor, spending hours poring over the conversation you had. Over the minute changes in your facial expression, the tone of your voice, and the endless list of things he should have done, rather than watch you walk away.

The moment feels familiar, both identical to and worlds apart from what happened after you left three months ago. When he managed to scrape the last shreds of his dignity from the kitchen table, he dragged his feet to his room and lay down like he is now, face to the rug. That day, he left his door open and lay so still that Jake thought he was dead. Sunghoon remembers wishing he had been.

For once in your life, even for a second, can you please think about how the things you say affect me? The words run on a loop in his mind, over and over, until he can’t remember the order of the sentence or where you put emphasis. They’re cutting all the same.

Sunghoon sighs into the itchy fibres of his black rug before rolling onto his back. In the diminishing purple light of the setting sun. he looks at the walls of his room. At the Fleetwood Mac poster, he stole from Jay when they moved out of their first year dorm, that curls away from the wall towards the ceiling—a diagonal strip of shiny tape being the only indication of the otherwise invisible tear through the face of Stevie Nicks.

He’s glad when his phone rings, cutting through the quiet, though the sight of your name and the anatomical heart emoji next to it only dampens his spirit. Reluctantly, Sunghoon answers the phone, holding it to his ear.

“I just got off the phone with Dad..” You trail off. Tangible silence follows, so thick it weighs on his chest. “I’ll go home with you.”

“You will?”

“Yes. Goodbye.”

Sunghoon reaches your flat at five in the evening. You don’t smile when you open the door for him, nor do you invite him in. Instead, you dump your bag at your feet and he cringes, looking from the floor to you. You’re aggressively beautiful and cosy-looking as you pull a jacket over the sweater you wore that night. Sunghoon’s heart aches in his chest and he wonders if you even realise. Suddenly, the memory of the last thing you said the morning after hits him like a truck: Then let’s not be friends at all.

A familiar weight lands on his shoulder—your hand. Concern lines your eyes as you ask if he’s okay.

With a lump in his throat, Sunghoon nods.

In the discomfort of his car, the two of you sit in silence while he starts the drive home.

“How’s Yeonjun,” he asks, eyes flicking towards you but regretting it immediately when he sees how you clench your jaw.

“No,” you say simply, shaking your head. “You don’t get to ask me about him.”

These are the only words you exchange until Sunghoon stops for petrol. He has enough fuel for the rest of the journey, but he feels like dying and thinks the fresh air might quell his thoughts of running his car off the road. Like always, the two of you get out and head into the kiosk, where he follows you wordlessly through the aisles, watching you debate on snack choices before settling on the same things you always get. Sunghoon pays for your snacks and you roll your eyes but don’t protest, mumbling thanks as you take them into your arms, leading the way back outside.

He knows he needs to tell you before you reach the house, but he’s not entirely sure how to say it—so he just does. “My, uh.. my parents think we’re dating.”

You stop so suddenly in front of him that he almost bumps into you. Stepping around you, Sunghoon keeps walking.

Over the top of his car, he watches your face cycle through all five stages of grief until anger comes back around in the loop as you scoff. “Why do they think that?” Your face is devoid of expression now, the blankness over your features dragging a sharp chill over his spine.

He stares blankly at you, processing. “Because I told them we’re dating,” he mumbles.

“Why did you.. do that?” You tilt your head, eyes pressing shut in a long blink. “What are you even talking about? Why did you.. What?”

A thin layer of sweat coats his palms despite the cold. Why did he do that? “We can stage a breakup during the trip or say we broke up right now,” Sunghoon offers. “Just one night, YN, please.”

The wind whistles by, ruffling your hair and jacket that you hug tightly to your chest. Behind you, Sunghoon takes note of the group of girls standing by the pumps, all five of them jerking their heads abruptly when they notice him watching, suddenly finding interest in the scattered litter and flickering halogen bulbs in the steel canopy over their heads.

You’re staring when he looks back at you, nostrils twitching with a sniffle before you sigh. “Or we could say that you’re a liar and end things there,” you say. “Or better yet, you go down there on your own and tell them the truth.”

Sunghoon’s gaze drops, his thoughts racing in his mind. He knows you’re right. At some point, his parents will have to find out, and it’d be better for them to find out now. Sunghoon sighs, nodding. “Alright,” he concedes. “I’ll take you back.”

An angry laugh comes out of you as you shake your head. “No need, I’ll walk.”

The station you’re at is neatly nestled in the middle of nowhere, on a road so narrow he’s not even sure it has a pavement. You’re halfway through the three-hour drive, so there’s no telling how long the walk would be, never mind the fact that the sun is already setting and it’s deep enough into October for the wind to sting.

“From here?” he asks, incredulous.

“Yes, open the boot so I can get my bag.”

Sunghoon can only bring himself to say your name, a desperate whisper.

“Open the boot.”

He repeats your name as if it’ll make a difference, he’s pleading with you, begging—though he doesn’t know for what.

You go to the back of his car where Sunghoon joins you, a pit in his stomach when you step away. With misty eyes, you look up at him and his heart breaks. “Please.”

Sunghoon knows you well enough to know that you’re not actually going to attempt the walk home but also knows that you won’t back down if he keeps challenging you. He nods, opening the boot for you and getting into the driver’s seat—your move.

You stand there, unmoving, and long enough passes that he thinks you’ll actually leave. The boot closes softly and you join him in the passenger seat. You sigh, buckling your seatbelt. “Let’s just get this over with.”

For the rest of the journey, you sit in silence as Sunghoon briefs you on the relationship, fighting a smile as he thinks about being your boyfriend—even if only for a night. You scoff when he ‘reminds’ you that you’ve been together for four months now and the only reason you haven’t been able to come home recently is that your schedules don’t match up very well anymore—which couldn’t be further from the truth as, before term started, you went out to celebrate the fact that your class schedules couldn’t be more suited for seeing each other.

Finally, at Sunghoon’s childhood home, the two of you smile and laugh for his parents before going to bed. Your relationship has only made his mother more averse to the idea of you sharing a room under her roof than she had been when you were younger. He’s relieved about this, and in the solitude of his bedroom, he lies on the duvet of his twin bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about the last few hours.

With his parents, you’d sat up in the living room watching TV. They sat on the couch together, his mum nestled in his dad’s side, while you two sat on the couch opposite, mirroring their position. If your complete stiffness was anything to go by, you were less than comfortable with his arm around you and Sunghoon felt terrible for begging you to go along with this. It was after midnight when you all went upstairs and you let him kiss your forehead before all but slamming the door to the guest room in his face. His heart twirled and his mum beamed at him before saying goodnight again.

Now, at 3 a.m. he can’t sleep. Flinching at the knock on his door, he furrows his brows and goes to open it. It’s you. Standing there with your hair scraped away from your face in one of his t-shirts. Your eyes are red, brimmed with tears as you step into his room and sit on his bed.

He closes the door softly, heart aching at the sight of you so upset, and when he sits next to you, his heart tears apart because you move over, putting a distance between you. It falls out of his chest onto the floor when he realises you’re not wearing your necklace.

Sunghoon suspected you might have stopped wearing it, it only made sense that if you didn’t want him, you wouldn’t want the necklace he bought for you either, but at least earlier, your sweatshirt sat so high he couldn’t see if you had it on or not.

It was a gift for your sixteenth birthday, after your first heartbreak. He was so upset and angry that you let some loser hurt you that way, upset and angry that someone could be loved by you and fuck it up. Sunghoon was inspired by Jay, who’d gotten a pretty necklace for his girlfriend, and talked about her cute reaction for weeks, how happy she was to have a piece of him with her all the time. It was a locket, with a picture of Jay in one side and a picture of her in the other so the pictures would kiss when she wore it.

While at the jewellers with Jake, Sunghoon thought something like that might be a bit much for the two of you and eventually picked out an equally pretty piece with his first initial on it. He wrote a corny note to put in the box, something about how ‘boys come and go but Sunghoon is forever’ and gave it to you with trembling hands a few nights later—it was the first time he ever made you cry. Immediately, he thought he’d done something wrong and was ready to snatch the box and run back to the jewellers (even though he trashed the receipt). You hugged him and told him you loved him. Sunghoon’s been riding that high ever since.

Until tonight at least.

“Are you okay?” he whispers.

“I’ll do it, Hoon.” Your eyes lift from the floor to meet his gaze. “For as long as you need me to, I’ll pretend.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Sunghoon feels lighter, an unbearable weight slipping from his shoulders. You haven’t called him ‘Hoon’ in ages, and he can’t tell if you’ve said it out of vulnerability, or even noticed that you’ve said it at all, but it warms his heart nonetheless. However, he’s not fully at ease, still curious about your sudden change of heart and why you’re crying.

“What happened?”

You pull him into a hug, and his eyes bulge out of his head. “It doesn’t matter,” you say, the words muffled by the skin at the base of his neck.

For as long as he’s known you, you’ve smelled like vanilla, a sweet warmth that grounds him. Yet it’s only after these months apart that he’s able to put a name to the sensation: home. The realisation of how much he’s missed this feeling, missed you, floods him with a rush of emotion so overwhelming he can’t find the words to press the issue. A moment passes before he remembers to hug you back, his arms finally wrapping around you, pulling you close, and you sink into his hold. Months ago, he would have kissed the top of your head and mumbled reassurance into your hair, but tonight, Sunghoon settles for stroking the back of your head and hopes it’s enough.

“You can talk to me, you know? You can always talk to me.”

A heavy silence follows, sharp as a dagger—scraping his skin, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge and lodging itself between his shoulder blades. Sunghoon’s breath hitches in his throat when you cling onto him even tighter, shifting so close you’ve had to settle in his lap. His heart races in his chest, pounding a rhythm so loud it fills the room.

Finally, you speak, assuring him that you know and that you’re okay. At this, Sunghoon holds you as tight as he can, and neither of you speaks for the rest of the night. You fall asleep like this, in his arms, so deeply that you don’t even stir when he lies down.

Rubbing your back, he watches the clock on his nightstand, the piercing green LED digits cycling through two whole hours right before his stinging eyes until you wake up. Sunghoon presses his eyes shut, pretending to be asleep when you kiss his cheek and leave his room.

For the entire morning, you stay in your room, and although Sunghoon is concerned, he decides not to bother you. In the afternoon, he sits at the dining table with his mum, listening as she talks about work. When she asks him, he gets up to make a cup of tea for her. It’s at that moment when you finally come downstairs, looking so effortlessly pretty. Your hair is still damp from the shower, and you’re bundled up in one of his old sweatshirts. There’s a bright grin on your face that leaves his heart thudding.

“Baby!” you squeal when you see him, charging towards him and wrapping your arms around him from behind. “Good morning.” Your words are muffled against the back of his t-shirt, and the four-letter word, and the sugar coating it, make his cheeks burn.

“It’s great to see you too, YN,” his mum says with a smile. “My night was amazing; I slept very well and had no dreams.”

You let go of Sunghoon and walk over to the table, kissing his mum on the cheek and wishing her a good morning as well. “Sorry, mum, how are you?”

His mother doesn’t seem to have the heart to correct you either, allowing your 3 p.m. ‘good morning’ to go unnoticed.

Sunghoon carefully fills both mugs to the brim and, with extra caution, carries them to the table. He places a steaming cup of peppermint tea in front of his mum and a milky coffee in front of you. A warm smile spreads across your face as you mouth a ‘thank you’, and his knees turn to jelly.

The next day, after eating an early dinner with his parents at the table, the four of you go out on a walk along the bike path you used to take for school. His parents have gone ahead, not intentionally, but because Sunghoon can’t stop you from dragging your feet.

As with most things in the town where you grew up, nothing about the trail has changed. The leaves are yellowing in standard form for the season, and crunching under his feet with each step he takes. The only foreign experience is the silence that you’re determined to uphold. Everything Sunghoon says to you is met with either a hum, a nod, or no acknowledgement at all. At this point, he feels like he could drop dead at your side and the most you’d do is step over his body like a fallen branch.

After letting you go ahead, the weathered slats of the wooden footbridge sag in the middle under his tread. It’s been like this for as long as he can remember and he wonders how nothing has been done about it. The stream rushes under it, loud and unruly, the smell of wet grass both comforting and suffocating as you look over the railing. It’s like something from a postcard, the low-hanging branches sweeping back and forth under the breeze, the grass lush and green around the path, murky water thrashing against the mud and rocks underneath with you in the middle of the frame, peering over the edge.

You keep walking when Sunghoon approaches, leaving him alone on the creaky bridge with nothing but the ache in his chest. He looks up, staring at the grey clouds in the sky through the gaps in the leaves, and sighs.

Eventually, he catches up with you, grabbing your hand and locking his fingers with yours when his parents slow down. You stiffen, looking up at him with cut eyes and a creased brow. “What are you doing?”

Sunghoon matches your clipped tone. “Holding my girlfriend’s hand.”

“No one’s looking, boyfriend.”

“You think my parents aren’t going to wonder why we’re lagging behind?”

A scoff—your fingers remain defiantly stiff. “Do you think your parents are going to care whether or not we’re holding hands?”

“My mum might after the show you put on yesterday afternoon, baby.” Bitterness covers the word like a blanket, a stark departure from how you said it.

A long sigh rumbles its way out of you before you fix your lips into a strained grin. “Sorry, sweetheart, this is my first time pretending to be in love.”

As your words hang in the air, Sunghoon’s emotions brew like a storm within him. Frustration gnaws at his patience. All hopes for a smooth week are dashed, though determination simmers in his chest with a strong resolve to make this work, to fix your relationship. It doesn’t stop the sharp pang of hurt piercing his stomach—he knows you don’t feel the same way, he knows you’re faking, but the word ‘pretending’ hits him like a truck anyway.

“We held hands all the time when we were friends,” he points out.

Your smile drops immediately, hurt flashing behind your eyes. “Yeah, and now we’re not.”

If there was a competition for who could hurt Sunghoon’s feelings the most, you’d be a shoo-in for first place. With distinction.

“Exactly!” he says, feeling the sting of his own words. “Because now we’re dating.”

At the sight of his mum turning around, you switch up in an instant. Lock your fingers with his, wrapping an arm around his bicep, leaning into him, giggling. It’s forced but his parents are far enough away that all that matters is the curve of your lips.

“You two okay back there?” she asks.

“Perfect! I feel like a kid again!” you call back, beaming up at Sunghoon in a way that makes his stomach flutter even though it doesn’t meet your eyes.

The two of you don’t talk at all when you get home, with you hugging his parents goodnight and running up the stairs.

“She’s not feeling too well,” he explains, nodding when his dad tells him to make you some tea.

His parents spend the whole day at work, and you spend the whole day following him around like a shadow until the evening when they return. He doesn’t pretend not to like it.

Sunghoon helps you make dinner, turning leftover rice into fried rice with the help of some eggs and vegetables. It’s nice moving around the kitchen with you, watching you scramble eggs in his t-shirt and bump his hip with a playful frown when he eats some of the peppers you’re chopping.

His parents watch from the table, cooing over the two of you and he does his best to fight the blush forming on his cheeks and neck. Embarrassed, he hugs you from behind, hiding his face in your neck—the scent of your coconut conditioner mixing with your vanilla perfume doesn’t do anything to stop the flush.

Over a bottle of wine, the four of you eat together at the table, swapping stories about your days. Sunghoon tries to hide his surprise as you lie about the time you spent at the play park by your primary school, competing for height on the swings and spinning on the roundabout until you couldn’t stand up. You grin at him, and it meets your eyes as you hold his hand under the table, and kiss his cheek.

After eating, his parents head upstairs, leaving to clean up together. You hum a song he’s never heard as you load the dishwasher, carefully placing the plates and cutlery in the rack, shaking your head when he hands you the glasses you’d used.

“Leave ours,” you say. “If you want.”

Sunghoon nods, putting them back on the table, where you sit in the seat across from the one he was sitting in. He sits too, staying quiet rather than saying the wrong thing. You don’t speak either. It’s reminiscent of the past—the hours you’d spend in the same room, only speaking to share a funny post you’d come across or to ask if you were hungry.

His eyes track your movements—reaching for the half-empty bottle on the table to pour yourself another glass, filling it to the brim. Before putting it down, you offer him some, filling his glass too when he nods. The three glasses of wine he’s already had must be the reason he wants to reach across the table and hold your hand, run his thumb over the soft skin on the back of it.

Sunghoon doesn’t know why you’ve been so nice to him all day or why it makes his chest hurt.

“You know you don’t have to be nice to me when we’re alone, right?” The words come out before he can stop them.

Over the top of your glass, your brows knit together. A sound of confusion, a low hum, comes from your throat as you try to finish your sip. “What?” you ask finally.

“I only asked you to do this because of my parents, you know? You don’t have to sit or talk with me when they’re not around.”

Sunghoon’s known you long enough to recognise the look that flashes across your face. The way your eyes narrow and your brows tug together, the little pout that sets on your lips before you speak; you’re hurt.

“Why can’t I just be nice to you because it’s the right thing to do?”

Because it hurts, is what he wants to say. He wants to cry, to beg you to forget everything he said that day. “Because I don’t want to make you any more uncomfortable than I already have.” Is what he settles for.

Your face softens. “I don’t feel uncomfortable around you, Hoon. We were best friends for ages, I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable.” You pause to take a gulp of wine. “Why can’t I just want to be nice to you?”

Sunghoon has to chew on his cheek to distract himself from how much your word choice stings. The implications of were and all of your past tense. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“What for?”

“Everything.”

There’s a sadness in the way you run your fingers on the base of your glass. The way you chew on your lip, how your hair falls when you tilt your head and how it moves when you shake it. “It’s not your fault,” you say. “I don’t know anyone who would choose to have unrequited feelings for their best friend.”

Wow, he thinks. You’re on a roll. Sunghoon wonders if you’re meticulously choosing your phrasing to upset him. Wonders why you feel the need to remind him that his feelings aren’t reciprocated as if he didn’t live through and spend hours reliving the day he confessed.

“But I didn’t have to tell you about it. It was unfair of me to spring that on you when I knew about Yeonjun.”

“Did you.. did you think I was going to leave him for you?”

“Maybe?” Sunghoon chews on his lip—he has no idea what he thought would happen. “I think I thought I loved you enough for both of us, that you might play the part for fun or out of curiosity, and.. I don’t know, just learn to love me.”

“Hoon,” you whisper, frowning. “How could you even think about settling for something like that?”

Sunghoon shrugs. “It’s not settling if it’s you.”

Silence takes a seat at the table after he speaks, interrupted only by the ticking clock on the wall—a glittery mess of scrapbooking paper and washi tape layered over each other that Yeji had decorated at summer camp years ago. You’re picking at your fingernails, letting flecks of black polish fall to the table, stark against the varnished oak.

“I know it’s not my place to ask,” Sunghoon starts after a while, hesitant and only continuing when you nod. “But what did Yeonjun say when you told him? About.. everything?”

You take a long sip from your glass and sit quietly for so long that he thinks you’re not going to answer him—he doesn’t blame you.

“I didn’t.”

He waits for you to elaborate. You don’t.

Sunghoon nods slowly, deciding not to ask any follow-up questions. Instead, he takes another drink, scrunching his nose at the bitter taste. “He didn’t ask why we stopped hanging out?” he blurts out.

“I told him we fell out but I didn’t say why.” You shrug, but your posture is stiff.

“Where did you tell him you were going to be this week?” He knows it’s not his business at all, that he’s pushing your boundaries, but he can’t help his curiosity.

“Nowhere.”

“You told him you were staying on campus?”

“I didn’t tell him anything.” Your gaze shifts, avoiding his as you toy with the stem of your glass. You drum your nails against it, letting the dull clink ring out.

“So you just left?”

“Does it make a difference to you?”

Sunghoon nods.

For a while, you tug at the drawstrings on your hoodie, pursing your lips to the side, considering this. “Yeonjun and I aren’t together anymore.” Your admission is so shocking that Sunghoon’s jaw drops. He tries to cover his surprise by coughing, his tongue sticking out like a small child. “I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want you to think it was because of you.”

Sunghoon’s thoughts move at lightspeed, too fast for him to catch onto any of them and process this information. His emotions compete with each other—disbelief, guilt, and a painful glimmer of hope he hadn’t dared to acknowledge until now all at the forefront.

“Was it?” he asks. “Because of me?”

You scoff—an incredulous sound that doesn’t match the sad look on your face. “I don’t know, Sunghoon. Do you think my boyfriend used me to make his ex jealous because of you?”

He’s not sure what he expected you to say, but this is.. Complete disbelief eclipses him as his heart sinks in his chest, shock, and guilt bubbling in his stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he says after too long. “That I wasn’t there. That I haven’t been there.”

“You didn’t know,” you say, gaze softening as you look up at him.

“But I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it.”

You shake your head. “I made me feel like I couldn’t talk to you about it. All you did was change the friendship, I’m the one who ended it.”

“I still should’ve been there.”

“You’re here now, right?”

Sunghoon nods, earnestly. “Always.”

Only one thing comes to mind when you repeat the word ‘always’ before taking a sip from your glass, downing its contents. Sunghoon gets up and crosses the room with wobbly steps to open the fridge, where he pulls out as many bottles of soju as he can hold in his hands and puts them down on the table. He goes back to collect some glasses from the cabinet, puts some of the leftover fried rice from dinner into the microwave, and brings it all over when it’s done, with bowls and utensils. You watch him with a fond smile as he opens a bottle and he hopes you think the flush on his cheeks is from all the drinking you’ve been doing.

“Is it bad that I’ve missed doing this?” You’re grinning now.

Sunghoon shakes his head, raising his glass. “To YN’s fifteenth heartbreak.”

You grin, clinking the rim of your glass against his. “To YN’s fifteenth heartbreak,” you repeat.

Both of you down the glasses, and Sunghoon refills them, pouring the soju with an oddly steady hand. As you eat spoonfuls of rice and sip your drinks, silence settles over the room. The soft glow of the kitchen lights forms a warm ambience, a cosy familiarity that brings up simple memories—doing homework together at the table while gossiping about your classmates, the first New Year after you were both eighteen and had your first drink with his parents.

For at least an hour, the only sounds are the occasional clinks of forks against bowls, glasses hitting the table, the faint hum of the refrigerator and the steady tick of Yeji’s clock. Sunghoon’s eyes meet yours, and he can’t help but notice the slight change in your expression when they do.

You clear your throat, running a hand through your hair. “This is my sixteenth, actually.”

“What?”

You take a small sip of soju, staring down at the table. “My fifteenth heartbreak was losing you. Yeonjun is my sixteenth.”

In the two days since your soju ceremony, Sunghoon finds himself sinking into the role of your boyfriend like a hot bath. But there’s no use pretending it doesn’t hurt. Pretending it doesn’t hurt when you kiss his cheek before bed, or when you reach out to push the hair out of his face or snuggle into his side on the couch; because it does hurt—a lot. It hurts to think that in three days when you put your bags in the boot of his car, you’ll sit in silence all the way home. When he drops you off at your flat, you’ll close the door in his face and stop talking to him again. These realisations are harder to confront when he’s alone in his room, like now.

About an hour ago, you asked if you could borrow his car, saying there was something you needed to do on your own. It seemed important, so he handed over his keys with no question. Sighing, Sunghoon gets up from his bed and heads to the shower, where he jerks off to clear his mind. On his way back to his room, he notices the light leaking from the open kitchen door that illuminates the landing.

He hears the lock on the front door clicking, and stands at the top of the stairs, dripping water onto the carpet while listening attentively. His ears perk up when he hears a gasp—his mother.

“What’s this for?” she asks.

“I just..” You trail off. “I know it’s not much, but I wanted to thank you both for always looking after me.” You pause, and Sunghoon holds his breath, waiting. Your voice trembles as you continue. “It’s been hard since my parents went back home, and I guess it was still hard when they were here, but you both supported me. I don’t think I could’ve managed without you guys. I want to make you guys proud, you know? And I’m trying, really, so this is me saying thank you. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

He grips the railing by the landing, digging his nails into the wood until they start hurting—an ache in his fingertips that makes him wince.

An odd feeling settles in his stomach, a bittersweetness tinged in his fondness for you, and the gentle shock of realising how much his parents have done for you. Growing up, you became an honorary member of Sunghoon’s family. His parents showered you with gifts during holidays and birthdays, which you often celebrated with them rather than your own family.

The memory of your parents’ sudden decision to move across the country still lingers, and Sunghoon vividly recalls the tearful conversation he overheard at the top of the stairs. Your parents understood the enormity of their request but had earnestly asked if Sunghoon’s parents could continue looking after you.

His chest tightens when you start crying.

“You don’t have to thank us for anything, sweetie. Just you being here and taking care of our boy is more than enough thanks. You never forget our birthdays, and you always come and visit when you can. You’re doing a great job, and you should give yourself some credit,” his dad says, a little choked up. “We’ve always been proud of you.”

Sunghoon’s eyes sting with tears and his skin gets dry in the spots where the water from the shower is evaporating. He presses his fingers to his closed eyes, forcing a few tears to fall and walks the rest of the way to his room with his eyes shut. He can’t hear anything through his closed bedroom door, which he decides is a good thing as he coats himself in moisturiser and swipes deodorant under his arms with intention to spend the whole night alone. Once he’s dressed, he gets into bed and pretends not to be bothered by the way his wet hair dampens his pillow. Under the duvet, he tosses and turns before sighing and heading to Yeji’s room.

In her absence, the room’s subtle transformation is stark. The sage green-painted walls, once a backdrop to the A3 faces of Wave to Earth and Beabadoobee, now bear the faint imprints of those missing posters. Tiny, shadowy rectangles are the only remnants of the 6x4-sized pictures of her and her friends, of her and Sunghoon, that she took away with her to school.

Her hairdryer is still on her desk where she’d left it for him to use and he sits in her stiff wooden chair, plugging it in. The airflow starts immediately, hot and loud, humming throughout the space as he runs his fingers through his wet hair, feeling cosy under the heat. His shampoo is fresh and soapy scented under his nose, and his reflection watches him in Yeji’s mirror, eyes red and concerned while his hair blows around his head. Sunghoon closes his eyes and finishes his hair, sighing as he lets his worries slip under the whir of the fan.

Finished, he shuts off the dryer and opens his eyes, flinching at your reflection in the doorway behind him with a soft smile on your face. “Mum and Dad are going to open a bottle of wine if you want to join,” you say, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

Sunghoon can’t find it in himself to speak, only nodding in response. You smile wider but don’t move. He unplugs the hairdryer and leaves it on the desk where he found it before crossing the room. Without giving himself a chance to think about it, he pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head, smiling into your hair when you wrap your arms around his waist, holding him closer.

You’re sitting on the edge of the bathtub, mumbling sleepily that you’re never going to drink again, and Sunghoon leans over the sink brushing his teeth, he’s glad you have the decency to cover your mouth as you speak.

“Brush your teeth and go back to sleep then,” he mumbles around his toothbrush.

You don’t respond.

Sunghoon sighs through his nose, spitting foamy toothpaste into the sink, leaving bubbly, blue splatters on the porcelain. “And quit staring at me, I can feel your beady little eyes on the back of my neck and it’s freaking me out.”

“But you’re so pretty,” you coo.

There’s a flutter in his stomach and he rinses off the sink and his mouth, buying himself some time. With a hand on the Listerine, he lifts his gaze to meet yours in the mirror and stops short. You’re still staring at him, features soft and glowing under the afternoon light. You look like an angel; a gentle smile spreading over your lips, and a sleepy glint sparkling in your eyes, wide and gorgeous as you watch him. Sunghoon gulps, mumbling his thanks and looking back at himself. He hopes you can’t see the flush on his cheeks.

“Go back to sleep,” he says.

“Will you come and lie down with me if I do?” Your voice is a sleepy drawl, coming out in a slow, high-pitched slur, and your eyes are closing on themselves.

Lying down doesn’t sound like a terrible idea, especially not if it’s with you, so he nods. “If you brush your teeth, then yeah, baby, I’ll lie down with you.”

You chuckle softly at Sunghoon’s agreement, the sound carrying a mix of exhaustion and genuine amusement, showing no repulsion to him calling you the B-word. He didn’t mean to, it’s been a confusing few days. You nod, saluting to him and getting up to join him by the sink, using your hip to bump him out of the way, but he feels like he’s glued to the spot.

“Move, baby,” you mumble sleepily, reaching for your toothbrush. “We can cuddle in my bed,” you suggest, to which Sunghoon only nods, taking your words as a cue to unstick his feet from the floor and go to your room, playing the word ‘baby’ on a loop in his head.

He stands in the doorway staring at your bed, the duvet is all crumpled in the middle, and the pillows are in an L shape at the top corner. He sighs, he can’t go on like this, can’t stand around hoping even a tiny part of you called him ‘baby’ and it meant something for you as it did for him. It’s not fair for him to project his feelings on you like this, but he can’t help it. You’re already pretending for his parents, so would it be so bad to pretend for his sake as well? Even if only until the day after tomorrow when you leave?

The sound of the bathroom door shutting behind you snaps him out of his thoughts, your bright smile making his heart race when you tug him by the sleeve to your bed where the mattress dips underneath you as you curl into his form, resting your head on his chest and falling asleep. You’ve shared the bed before, countless times, but he knows you’ve only asked him because you’re tired. Because your brain is foggy with drowsiness that clouds your judgement, not because you want him there, not because you miss him when he’s two doors down the hall, tossing and turning at night thinking about you. He wonders absently if you can feel his aching heart beating through his chest, a painful, yet all too familiar rhythm that pulls his own eyes shut, plunging him into a deep sleep too.

It’s dark in the room when he wakes up, the sun already down behind the curtains and the soft yellow of the bedside lamp casting a glow around the space. You’re staring up at him, smiling and you don’t look away when he catches you. “What is it?” he asks, voice thick with sleep.

“Nothing,” you mumble. “I just missed you.” Sunghoon has no time to respond or even register what you said before you clear your throat, speaking again. “Come on, dad’s cooking tonight, he’ll need help.”

Helping Sunghoon’s dad with dinner always looks an awful lot like Sunghoon eating snacks on the kitchen counter and staring at you as you help his dad cook. Tonight is no exception, he’s sitting on the island, and his snack of choice is a family pack of Chilli Heatwave Doritos his mum bought for Yeji. He’ll have to remember to replace them before leaving seeing as he’s reaching the halfway point.

You go back and forth with his dad about measurements, with you rummaging through the drawers for measuring cups while his dad says it’s best to trust your gut. Reluctantly, you nod, chewing the inside of your cheek as you watch him eyeball the seasoning.

The gas stove turns the kitchen into an oven, and you complain about it while opening a window, pulling your hoodie over your head and leaving it in Sunghoon’s lap. Time stops when you grin at him, the light from the stove hood illuminating the necklace you’re wearing, his initial resting on your chest and glowing under the light. He chokes around a crisp when he sees it, catching your attention with his coughing.

“You’ll spoil your dinner, snacking like that, baby,” you scold, using a hand to push his knee. “We’re almost done, I swear.”

All he can do is nod, cheeks burning as he folds the crisp packet over before putting it back in the bread bin where he found it.

“Wow,” his dad says, resting his hands on his hips and shaking his head in amusement. “Being in love looks good on him, he’d never have listened if I said that.”

It’s already your last day when Sunghoon picks up Yeji from school. She grumbles for the entire half-hour drive and all the way to the front door about why the two of you couldn’t have started the trip today instead of ending it, but all of her irritation dissolves when she sees you in the hallway, leaving the front door wide open to fling her arms around you. You and Yeji exchange compliments for a while — You look so pretty. No, you look so pretty. I love your hair. I love your hair. — as Sunghoon locks the door and watches with a smile.

“God.” Yeji sighs, holding you by the waist and craning her neck up to look at you, as you push some of her hair from her face, pinning back her wispy bangs with the palm of your hand. Yeji giggles. “I’m so happy you two are together, even though I have no idea what a girl like you sees in my loser brother.”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, leaning back against the wall. Despite his mild irritation at Yeji’s words, he finds the sight of you with her so adorable his stomach flutters. Over the top of Yeji’s head, you look at him with a fond smile. “He’s not so bad.”

It doesn’t sound like a compliment, but Sunghoon takes it to heart.

Like always, Yeji manages to capture your undivided attention and the two of you giggle and whisper with each other all afternoon while Sunghoon watches, too enamoured by the sight to care about being left out. An hour or so passes like this, until his parents get home from work, excited to see Yeji after a few weeks, and you leave her side, coming to cuddle with Sunghoon instead.

It’s nice being home with everyone, laughing and sharing a meal before his family walks the two of you to his car with at least a month’s worth of cooked food for you to share at university. Yeji makes you pinky promise that she can visit you and waves with a pout on her face until the car is out of view.

Contrary to what he’d been expecting, the drive back is nice. Your playlist is on, and you’re telling him about all the new songs you added, catching him up on things with Chaewon and Yunjin, and all the things you got up to in the time you spent apart. You tell him about a new café that opened up near your place and how you’ll have to go together when he has the time, and Sunghoon bites his tongue before telling you that he always has time for you. The first half of the trip goes on like this but you start dozing off around the halfway mark, your sentences becoming few and far between, eventually turning into half-mumbled thoughts that end prematurely.

You’re still asleep when he reaches your flat, head propped up against the window with your soft lips parted, looking too pretty and cosy to wake up. Instead, he drives in circles around your block, deciding to wait for you to wake up on your own. It only takes a half-hour but you blink your eyes open, stretching your neck before looking around and out the car window, recognising the street. You don’t say anything, only smiling when you look at him, a small curve of your lips that makes his heart race.

He gets out of the car with you, opening the boot to get your bag before pulling you into his chest for a hug, liking the way your arms settle around his waist. “Thank you,” he mumbles into your hair.

Sunghoon doesn’t follow you when you take your bag from him, only watching from the back of his car. You don’t notice until you reach the main door, looking over your shoulder and frowning at him. “Aren’t you going to walk me up?”

The two of you walk in silence up four flights of stairs as the lift in your building is out of order. Your bag feels much heavier in his hand now than it did outside. At your door, he watches you dig around for your keys, sighing with relief when you find them.

“Do you want to come in?” you ask from your open doorway.

“I—uh—I have training in the morning and I’m already pretty tired, so..” He trails off.

Unfazed, you nod. “Right, of course. I had fun this week.”

“Yeah, me too.”

You smile at him, sweet and sincere. “Text me when you get home, yeah?”

Sunghoon nods, saying goodbye. Out of habit, he doesn’t leave your doorstep until he hears the lock click shut, and walks back to his car with his head down.

True to his word, he sends you a text to let you know he got back to his place safely and you read it immediately but don’t reply. It’s empty in the apartment, Jake is out with his football team and the space is larger than usual in his absence. Far too tired to even consider going out and joining him, Sunghoon goes through his night routine, putting his phone on the charger and stepping into the shower where he spends entirely too long wishing he could live in this week forever as he scrubs his body. With brushed teeth and damp hair, he goes back into his room where his phone lights up with a notification; a text, from you.

YN🫀: i’m glad you got home okay, i just got into bed :) i don’t want to make you uncomfortable or overstep or anything and you can say no (obviously).. i’ve been missing you so much and didn’t know how to reach out or if you wanted me to but i had soooo much fun this week and spending time with you again made me happy, so i’d like it if we could keep hanging out, like before yk? ik it’s a long shot ahahaha but just say you’ll think about it?

hoonie: You’re not overstepping at all, I’ve missed you too, so bad. I had soooo much fun this week as well and I’d like it a lot if we kept hanging out, thank you for agreeing and coming along 😚 If you’re free after Lit tmrw you could come over? Or we could go out and do something, whatever you prefer

hoonie: I missed you so much..

hoonie: 🤍

The texts greet you as the first rays of Monday morning light filter into your room, instantly lifting your mood. Your bright smile doesn’t escape Chaewon’s notice as you find her in the kitchen, bathed in the soft light seeping through the sheer curtains. The kettle is boiling with a loud rumble that fills the whole room and leaves her yelling as she speaks to you.

“Good trip?” she asks, coming over and hugging you. “Never leave me for that long again,” she mumbles into your shirt.

“It was a week, Wonie,” you say, rolling your eyes even though you missed her too.

She leans away, looking at you with knitted brows. “It was nine days.”

“The longest of my life.”

Chaewon pulls air through her teeth, tilting her head and releasing you. “That bad, huh?” she asks, walking back to her seat at your tiny square table and shooting you a look that tells you to join her.

During your trip, you gave her nightly updates over text, so you know she knows how much you enjoyed yourself, but you elaborate anyway, sitting across from her.

“No, not at all,” you say, shaking your head and trying to fight a smile. “I had fun.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you have to bite your bottom lip to stop the grin curving them; it doesn’t work.

Chaewon raises a suggestive brow, crossing her arms over her chest. “How much fun?”

“You’re disgusting.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” she defends, holding her hands up. “I made an implication. It was only a matter of time, you two have that whole.. lifelong best friends to lifelong lovers thing going on, and it’s hot.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re telling me, you spent nine days playing lovers with Sunghoon and you still don’t want him? You’re a lost cause, people would kill for that chance,” she says, tilting her head. “I think I would kill for that chance.”

“Don’t touch him.”

“Oh?”

“Jesus, Chaewon, it’s not like that. Hoon’s too sensitive for your roster.”

“I never said it was like anything, you’re the one who’s dangling me over the ledge for saying I want to fuck your hot best friend.”

“Sunghoon isn’t hot; he’s..” You find yourself at a loss for words, unsure how to continue your lie. Of course, Sunghoon is hot, you’ve known since you were seventeen and spent the summer at your grandparents’ house, only to come back to find your previously scrawny best friend having ditched his LEGOs for dumbbells. You sigh. “Just leave him alone.”

Chaewon grins, eyes sparkling as she leaves the table. “Okay,” she says in a singsong voice, leaving you and the irritation in your stomach alone in the kitchen.

You sigh, pressing your eyes shut and trying to will away your discomfort. It’s not like Chaewon would actually try anything with Sunghoon. Right? Even if she did, it wouldn’t bother you, nor would it be any of your business. They’re grownups and reserve the right to explore their options. Still, there’s a nagging feeling you can’t shake, an uninvited guest in the back of your mind.

When you check your phone, you realise you have half an hour before you need to head to campus, so you leave to get ready and text Sunghoon back on the way to your room.

you: sounds good, see u later 🤍

After showering, you stand in front of your wardrobe, towel hanging from your body as you pick an outfit. For some reason, you feel under pressure, picking a pair of jeans that do the most for your ass and a low-cut top that Sunghoon once — drunkenly — said he loved on you.

You have the residual sting of mouthwash on your tongue, and one foot out the door when your phone vibrates in your hand.

hoonie: Do you want to head to class together?

you: sure! i’m omw out, where should i get you?

hoonie: .. I’m outside your building :D

Breathing a laugh through your nose, you don’t fight the giddy smile on your face as you make your way downstairs to meet Sunghoon. Through the glass in the main door, he’s standing at the edge of the pavement and kicking a stone between his feet. The top of his puffer jacket covers the bottom half of his face, and the draught nips your skin when the door opens. Two girls you vaguely recognise stumble in with smudged makeup and heels in their hands, smiling at you while holding the door to let you out.

“Hey!” you call out, jogging over to him.

Sunghoon turns around, his head poking out of his jacket to grin at you, holding a travel cup and an abundance of tinfoil in your direction.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d have eaten anything yet, you don’t normally in the morning,” he says, a sheepish smile spreading over his lips when you take it. “Matcha. Ham and cheese toastie.”

“Did you make these?” you ask, inspecting the familiar cup and appreciating the warmth it provides.

He hums, nodding his head.

You ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks and thank him with a hug, grinning when he offers to hold your drink while you eat on the walk. The toastie is still hot, the cheese coming close to burning your tongue as you chew, but you appreciate it wholeheartedly, humming contently with each bite. When you’re done, you shove the foil into your pocket, taking your drink from him and smiling around the sweet taste of a matcha latte as he tells you about his schedule for the day.

“I’m meeting with Coach after class to talk about my grades, but I’m all yours after that.”

“Talk about your grades? What’s wrong with your grades?”

Sunghoon groans, head falling back and highlighting the bump of his Adam’s apple. “My grades are.. I failed my coursework this month, so I have resubmissions during finals, and I think he’ll bench me if I fail again.”

He sounds like he’s being serious, and if the look on his face is anything to go by, he is. The news creases your brows because for as long as you remember, Sunghoon’s grades were your parents’ favourite point of comparison.

“Really?” you ask. He nods. “What’s up? Is something the matter?”

A humourless laugh slips out of him before he pulls air through his teeth. “Yeah, my best friend didn’t talk to me for three months.”

“Oh..” Guilt stirs your stomach as you look up at him. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not blaming you, it’s not like I was trying to talk and you ignored me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow, giving you a warm smile. “But if you feel as guilty about it as you look, you can tutor me for Lit.”

“Deal.”

Sunghoon grins, wrapping his arm over your shoulders and holding you close; the action itself isn’t unusual, but the increased heart rate it brings about is. “You’re too good to me,” he says, holding onto you for the rest of the walk to class.

At his request, you sit with Sunghoon in the back row, watching as the lecture hall gradually fills up in front of you. He seems well-prepared, with his laptop and a small notepad and pen neatly arranged on the desk in front of him.

Throughout the class, your eyes inadvertently track his every move. He diligently types up colour-coded notes, occasionally pausing to write things in his notepad before continuing to type or stopping entirely to listen. There’s something melodic about his actions and the way his fingers run over the keyboard.

During a five-minute break, you glance at his screen. What you find is more than just lecture content; it’s a document adorned with Sunghoon’s own musings about Hemingway’s style and carefully analysed quotations that go beyond the class discussion.

“How are your notes so good?”

“I picked up the book over the summer when you mentioned it,” Sunghoon replies with a shrug, a shy smile playing on his lips as he leans back in his seat. “I liked it.”

A slow nod is your response, though your thoughts swirl like autumn leaves in a breeze. The last time Sunghoon read for leisure, you were in primary school, buddy reading Diary of a Wimpy Kid. But this—this is different. You can’t help but stare at him, awestruck as you take him in. His eyes are wide, shining amber in the sunlight as he pushes some of his hair from his face, frowning when it falls back where it was.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbles.

Sunghoon takes a new line in his document and points at the screen where you watch the cursor move through the words he’s typing: I would’ve read and annotated the Bible if you wanted me to..

There’s no time to digest what he wrote or the funny feeling in your chest as you reread it before he deletes the whole sentence, pressing his lips together and looking out the window. Speechless, you stare at his side profile, willing your heart rate to slip back to normal. Steep-sloping nose, plump lips flattened into a line, two points of the triangular mole constellation on his face. Analysis worsens your condition, breath hitching in your throat before stopping entirely. Warmth and trepidation blend within you, fuzzy enough at the edges to seem like one thing—a single force that makes your palm itch with desire, desperation, to reach out and run a finger over his features, feel the bump of the mole on his nose — the most prominent — against your skin.

You remain this way — silent, watching — even when your lecturer resumes the lesson, and Sunghoon starts typing, writing, and listening again. Polite enough to pretend he doesn’t notice your gaze searing into his face.

After class, and his meeting with Coach, you let Sunghoon lead the conversation and the way to your flat, where you find Chaewon and Yunjin sitting on the couch, whispering to themselves while the two of you study at the coffee table. It’s uncomfortable, an awkward height, too high for the way you’re sitting but you feel calm under the supervision of Chaewon and Yunjin—you won’t do anything to merit teasing in front of them, no matter how badly you want to feel Sunghoon’s face in your hands or stroke his cheekbones with your thumbs.

To the best of your ability, you answer the questions he has for you—he’d written a ton in his tiny notepad during class, his own concerns clear with each neatly-penned iteration of: How to see actions/dialogue for what they are and not what I want them to be? written in the margins and you try not to feel heartbroken for him.

Three hours have passed by when you walk him to the door, the two of you wrapped up in a bubble so secure you’re surprised to find Chaewon and Yunjin still sitting on the couch. They don’t say anything about Sunghoon in his absence, or the fact he’d given you his sweater when he noticed you were cold. You’re not sure why their silence disappoints you.

Instead, Yunjin asks you about trivial things like dinner while Chaewon sits in silence.

“What flavour for ice cream?” Yunjin asks, rolling her eyes when you tug on the blanket but not complaining. “And don’t say something ridiculous like mint chocolate, YN.”

“That happened once! And it was three years ago.. How was I supposed to know you hate fun?”

Chaewon leans into you, letting you curl your limbs around her from behind as you rest your chin on her shoulder, liking the way her clean scent tickles your nose.

“Mint-cho isn’t that bad,” she starts. “It’s a little jarring, sure, but it’s kind of sweet. Like watching people come to terms with their feelings for each other.”

You nod your head, humming in understanding and furrowing your brows when Yunjin scoffs, staring straight at you. Her tone is equal parts cutting and loving, so you know she’s not trying to insult you, but don’t know what she means when she says, “It must be so nice to be as oblivious as you.”

Yunjin never elaborates, and you never ask, actually feeling the statement’s journey in through one of your ears and out the other when dinner arrives. The three of you share pizza, ice cream, and secrets — the three pillars of 20-something-teenage-girlhood — at the kitchen table, with Chaewon sitting in your lap and picking pepperoni from your slices.

It’s only hours after Yunijn’s gone home, that her words circle back to you, the statement and all of its weight perching on your chest with all the debilitation and persistence of a sleep paralysis demon.

“I think I’m getting sick,” you say as soon as she opens her door. “It’s been coming on for a while now, at least a week, maybe more.”

Unimpressed and exhausted, Yunjin looks down at you through half-closed eyes. “Do you..” She pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing. “Do you have any idea what time it is right now?”

“Yes. It’s three a.m.”

“Exactly. See a doctor if you’re sick, I’m going back to sleep.”

“This is an emergen—” Yunjin cuts you off by pinching your lips together. “It’s three in the morning,” she reminds you. “You can’t yell like that in my hallway, come in.”

You nod, crossing the threshold and taking off your shoes next to hers. “Sorry,” you whisper when the door is closed.

Using her hand, Yunjin lifts your chin, squinting as her eyes adjust to the light when she flips the switch to inspect your face. “You don’t look or sound sick,” she mutters, flicking the light back off and going to her room. “What are your symptoms? And why did you come here?”

You don’t have an answer for her last question so you ignore it, following her and tripping over a pair of her shoes in the process. “My cheeks start burning like crazy and my heart races, sometimes it gets hard to breathe.”

“You seem fine to me.”

A shoulder-slumping sigh slips from your lips. “That’s the thing. I’ll be fine and then Sunghoon shows up with his pretty smile and perfect hair and I feel like I’ve run a marathon.” You know how it sounds, choosing your wording meticulously to let Yunjin be the one to say the words out loud instead of you—it’ll be easier to confront that way.

From the doorway, you watch as she arches a brow, her interest piqued. “Oh?”

“I know.” You nod, head bobbing rapidly in furious agreement. “It’s only a matter of time before I cough up a lung and die in his bedroom.”

At your words, Yunjin doesn't reply, only lifting her duvet and getting cosy underneath. You feel like you’re glued to the spot, waiting for her to say something, anything, but nothing comes. All she does is pat the empty spot in her bed.

“What are you smirking for?” you ask, entering the room properly and closing the door.

Her response only comes after you’ve taken your jacket and hoodie off, sitting next to her under the covers. “It’s nothing,” she says, laughing.

“Tell me.”

Yunjin sighs, resting a hand gently on your shoulder. You think it’s meant to be comforting but it’s the opposite. “You’ll be fine, I promise. Lovesickness isn’t deadly.”

Feeling the weight of her reassurance, you settle down properly and sigh when your head hits the pillow. Lovesickness. Hmm.

Closing your eyes, you try to sleep but can’t help tossing and turning as Yunjin snores behind you. You pat blindly around the end table for your phone, grabbing it and wincing at the brightness of your screen. Chewing on your lip, you open Google, looking up ‘lovesickness’ and frowning immediately at the results. Endless negativity fills the screen, terrifying words like ‘unrequited love’ forming a pit in your stomach. There’s nothing negative about what you feel for Sunghoon, nothing unrequited—you think.

It was obvious during the trip, painfully so. In the way he’d tuck your hair behind your ear when his parents weren’t there to see, or how he slipped up and called you ‘baby’ in the bathroom, blushing when you said it back. You can’t fake something like that.. Can you?

Yeonjun did.

Shaking your head, you open Instagram to distract yourself. Jake’s story comes up first; he’s at a party where Jay is losing a game of beer pong, and at the other end of the table is Sunghoon grinning with a bright red lipstick kiss on his cheek. You lock your phone, using your hands to press on your belly to stop the stirring.

Oh, you think. Lovesickness.

When you wake up, the first thing you do is check Jake’s story again. The video is still there and that terrible stir in your stomach churns on, burrowing deeply into a pit of canyon-like proportion—so vast there’s a safety railing lining its edges.

You eat breakfast in silence with Yunjin, zoning out mid-chew to figure out the origin of these feelings and how to handle them. Suddenly, the moment hits you clear as day, vivid like you’re watching it on a screen—it was your third night at his parents’ house, after your walk.

You felt bad about how you acted, and what you said, so went straight up to your room. With nothing but the bedside lamp turned on, it was dimly lit, shadows cast on the walls as you sulked, replaying everything in your head. Guilt wrapped its long arms around your body, making you feel sick as you thought about it all. About the hurt etched over his face with every word you said, and the frown that stuck around for the rest of the walk as his hand clung limply to yours.

There was a knock at the door, so gentle you almost missed it, and Sunghoon was standing there when you pulled it open, chewing on his lip with a mug in his hand. Steam skated over the opening, a rich chocolatey smell hitting your nose but the real kicker was the mug itself. In its place on Jake and Sunghoon’s mug tree, it was unassuming, a regular white mug, but upon meeting hot water, the face of young Sunghoon appeared, grinning with his tiny glasses on. It was a gift from one of his old coaches and though he never used it, it was your absolute favourite cup in the world.

You felt soft around the edges when you looked up at him, his eyes wide and unsure as you met his gaze—he brought that mug three hours across the country so you could use it again. The thought shifted your heart into a comfortable position, settling in your chest with overwhelming warmth and an increased rate.

“Hi,” you said, clearing your throat.

“Hi,” he repeated, holding the mug out for you to take. “It’s still hot so be careful.”

Nodding, you covered your hands with your sleeves, taking the cup from him and asking if he wanted to come in. Sunghoon nodded, shutting the door behind him and standing by the bed, watching you set the hot chocolate on the bedside table as you sat down. The two of you stayed like that for a while, with him only moving when you patted the spot next to you on the duvet. Your train of thought escaped you as soon as he sat down, the warmth of his familiar fresh, citrusy scent taking over and becoming the only thing you could register. The smell of summers with him, long days at the beach and short nights spent on the couch at random parties, cuddled into his side with his arm over your shoulders. The smell you’d come to associate with comfort and home—with Sunghoon.

“It’s not fair for me to treat you like shit just because I’m annoyed, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that earlier. I’m sorry.”

A crease ran over Sunghoon’s thick brows as they tugged together, he shook his head. “You don’t have to apologise. I roped you into this whole thing and didn’t even try to think about how you would feel. I’m sorry.” His eyes carried a mix of regret and sincerity, mirroring the weight of his words.

“Anyway, I only came to bring you that,” he said, pointing at the cup. “And to check up on you, I’ll get out of your hair for tonight.” Sunghoon wiped his palms on his pants before standing up, reaching behind him to pick up the cloth he brought. For a moment, he stood there, staring down at it in his hand while you thought about telling him to stay, telling him that you wanted him in your hair—whatever that meant. But he spoke before you had the chance. “You left this, at mine, after.. well, you know. I’m sure you left it intentionally, I mean it was folded up perfectly on the end of my bed, so I know you did, but it didn’t feel right keeping it, you always wore it more than me.”

Sunghoon extended his hand, holding it out to you and you knew exactly what it was as soon as the fabric touched your skin after so long. It was the shirt Jay bought him for Christmas in first year—they were roommates still trying to get a feel for each other. For a few weeks, Sunghoon had been pestering you about what he should get for Jay, saying it didn’t feel right not to get him anything, and you suggested a targeted t-shirt, one you’d been laughing at all day after seeing an ad for it on your timeline. Sunghoon was sceptical, but bought the red shirt anyway, hoping Jay would find BEING DAD IS AN HONOUR, BEING PAPA IS PRICELESS funny. He did. And Jay bought Sunghoon a targeted shirt too, your favourite. It was black and two sizes too big, with I NEVER DREAMED I’D BE A SEXY FIGURE SKATER BUT HERE I AM KILLING IT written over the chest.

“Goodnight, YN,” Sunghoon said, crossing the room to leave but hesitating before closing the door. He poked his head through the opening and sighed. “I really am sorry.”

That night, you fell asleep in the shirt, the thinning, yet cosy, fabric wrapped around you like a hug as your heart started to beat a new rhythm, one that eerily echoed the five-foot-eleven figure skater who you let break it.

This morning, Yunjin claps her hands in your face, seeming irritated when you look over at her. “You have class in an hour, what are you doing?” Before you have the chance to speak, realisation covers her face. “Oh, the feelings.”

You nod solemnly, too caught up in the butterflies raiding your stomach to come up with something to say.

At lightspeed, you scarf down the rest of your food, apologising for showing up so late as you head out the door. When you get home, you take the fastest shower of your life and feel grateful Chaewon isn’t around to tease you about the smile you can’t wipe from your face thinking about Sunghoon—you’ll text her later.

You run to campus, feeling the brisk autumn wind beating against your face while the rest of your body overheats under your jacket, hoodie and long sleeve. Despite the discomfort and ache in your lungs, you don’t stop until you reach the door of your lecture hall, huffing and puffing into the faces of classmates who don’t take any notice. Of course, in a stroke of pure luck, your lecturer is late, and you realise bitterly, that all of your huffing and puffing was in vain—you would have gotten to class with time to spare even if you walked.

It’s not a total waste though; you use the time to update Chaewon.

you: i have news wonie.. i like sunghoon

wonie: …………….. fork in the kitchen yn what’s the news?

wonie: OHHHH news to YOU.. can i call?

She calls you immediately. You answer without thinking because your lecturer still hasn’t arrived, and there’s no one sitting close enough to hear or notice you taking a call.

“Are you going to tell him?!” Chaewon’s voice is so loud you wince, pulling the phone away from your ear.

“I don’t know.” You shrug even though she can’t see you, still holding the device at a distance just in case. “I don’t have any confirmation that he still.. likes me. It’s been a while, and I was pretty mean that day.

Chaewon groans and you can picture her throwing herself onto her bed, exasperated. The rustling that comes through the receiver only frames the image, hanging it up. “Did you have to tell him to get a grip?”

“You know..” You trail off, chewing on your bottom lip. “In hindsight, probably not.”

A beat passes, she’s thinking. “Don’t worry,” she says. “I’ll help you.”

“I.. have never been so worried in my life.” You sigh, picking at your freshly painted nails. “But I know you’ll do something no matter what I say, so do what you want, Wonie, but please be subtle about it.”

Chaewon squeals down the phone. “I love youuuuu!” And it’s the last thing she says before kissing the mic a few times and hanging up.

Slumping in your seat, you don’t have any time to stress about Chaewon’s plans because your lecturer walks in, with a travel cup in her hand and a paperback tucked under her arm.

She apologises for being late, running a hand through her hair as she announces that you’ll be watching a film, an adaptation of a book you read at the start of term—Ian McEwan’s Atonement. You spend the first hour of the movie falling in and out of sleep until a text comes through from Sunghoon, and sheer excitement keeps you up.

hoonie: Wanna study together after class?

you: of course!!!!!!

hoonie: 🤍

The rest of the movie goes by in a drag, and you come away from it with a mild irritation towards Saoirse Ronan.

you: class just finished, heading to lib rn

hoonie: Shit, still in the locker room, sorry !!! Omw, can you get a table?

you: i’ll try..

It takes a while but you find an empty booth on the second floor, and set your bag on the plush green seat to take pictures of your surroundings to send to Sunghoon. You sit on the side facing the stairs so he can see you when he arrives. The thought of seeing him makes your heart race and you try out a few natural-seeming poses for when he’s here, cycling between resting your palm under your chin and sitting with your arms crossed a few times until the top of his head comes into view.

Seeing him knocks the wind out of you as he approaches the staircase, taking them two at a time with his damp hair clinging to his forehead and neck. It doesn’t help that he’s wearing a tight black vest, and his sweats are hanging low on his hips. A breath you didn’t realise you were holding slips out when he lifts his head, spotting you immediately as a grin spreads over his lips and he raises his arm to wave, the veins in his forearm peeking out to say hi too. You can’t tell if it’s his lack of winter wardrobe or your newfound appreciation for him that’s making his biceps look so huge but it’s hard to look away, even when he reaches the table.

“Are you hot?” you blurt out.

Sunghoon laughs, raising a brow and something about the way he’s looking down at you makes your cheeks burn. “Depends who’s asking.” He takes his backpack off, leaving it on the table as he sits down, dumping his jacket and hoodie in a pile beside him.

“I’m asking,” you mumble.

“Then, yeah, I’d hope so.”

Is he flirting? It sounds like he’s flirting. Flirt back! “Nice arms.”

He looks down at his biceps for a beat before looking at you warily. “Are you flirting with me?” He can’t fight the smile twitching at the corners of his lips but he tries his best, pressing them into a straight line.

“A little. They are nice though,” you admit.

Sunghoon grins. “Thanks, I’ve had them for a while now.”

You can’t come up with anything to say, too distracted by the way his smile reaches his eyes, lighting up his whole face and forcing a flustered heat to spread over your cheeks and neck. It’s only when you look away from him that you remember what you’re here for. It’s a study date, not a study date—there’s a difference.

You hand Sunghoon the material you’d printed for him over the weekend, excerpts from texts you’d studied in class, so he can practise close reading and proper citation. As he makes his way through them, you can’t help stealing glances, smiling at the way his tongue sticks out a little while he focuses, or how he twirls his pen in his fingers while he’s thinking. You aren’t making the best use of your time together, copying out the slides from class yesterday, but you can’t help noticing the way he watches you when he thinks you can’t see. The small smile on his face while he does so only flusters you, an odd weakness settling in your knees as your cheeks heat up.

After a while, Sunghoon sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Could you stop watching me?”

“If you noticed me watching, that means you’re watching me.”

He shrugs, chewing on his lip. “Well, yeah. I’m always watching you,” he says like it’s a given. “But you don’t normally watch back, it’s distracting.”

“You’re distracting.”

A playful smile curves his lips as he arches a brow, smugness painting his face. “Am I?”

Too scared to verbalise your response, you nod slowly, hoping you don’t look as wound up as you feel.

Sunghoon’s eyes flick over your face, flashing with something you don’t recognise. At least not from him. He sits back in his seat, assessing you and eventually shaking his head.

“You know,” he says, eyes glowing with something you do recognise: cockiness. “If my sexy arms are getting to you that much, I can always put my hoodie back on. Wouldn’t want my little tutor getting distracted, would I?”

Oh.

Your stomach turns with want, mind reeling from his tone and the way his gaze lands on your lips. Sighing, you roll your eyes and try to seem unaffected. “Sunghoon, I never said your arms were sexy.”

His phone starts to go off, buzzing against the table and he turns it over immediately, screen down on the surface as he shifts his focus back to his work. He chews on his lip while he does, eyes flicking back and forth between his phone and the words on the page. Curious, you lean over the table, elbows propped up as you rest your chin in your hands. He doesn’t spare you or his phone, which vibrates another four times, a glance.

“Are you going to get that?”

Sunghoon shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”

You hum, letting just enough curiosity seep into the sound that he’ll elaborate without being asked to. It doesn’t take long for him to deliver.

“It’s just Chaewon,” he says, running his hand through his hair and lifting his head. Sunghoon smiles. “We’ve been texting a lot these days.”

“Cool.” You nod a few times, aiming for nonchalance but hitting bobblehead as you wait for him to continue. He doesn’t, only humming in response, nodding too.

After a beat, he picks up his phone, angling it just high enough that you can’t see the screen. He reads the messages, an exhaled laugh coming from his nose as the tips of his ears redden—Fuck. This is worse than you thought.

Chaewon’s commitment to girl code runs deep—she’s been rebuffing Jake since first year when she overheard a girl she’d never seen before telling her friends she thought he was cute. So you know without having to read the texts that nothing she’s saying is even remotely flirty, you can smell the auto-caps and use of the word ‘buddy’ from across the table.

What you hadn’t counted on, however, was the potential for Sunghoon’s feelings to shift. If they really have been texting more, can you rule out the possibility that he might like.. her? Chaewon is a catch, beyond a catch, and you’d already turned Sunghoon down. Brutally. Of course, he’d move on, he has moved on.

The rest of the study session is spent manifesting, writing Park Sunghoon over and over in the back of your notebook. You fill three pages while brainstorming ways to snatch a lock of his hair until he suggests that the two of you call it a day. He walks you home, telling you about how Jake’s been bribing him with food to get a ride to the LEGO store across town for the new Marvel set.

“With or without the meals, I would’ve taken him, but his ramen is my favourite, so..” Sunghoon says, climbing the last step of your building and holding the door open for you. “He even brought a slice of tiramisu to the rink for me after practice.”

“You’re terrible,” you say, frowning up at him as you search for your keys. “Do you want to come in?”

Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. “I have a meeting with one of my lecturers soon, I’d have to leave in—” He pauses, rolling up the sleeve of his jacket to check the time. “—eight minutes.”

“I’m cool with that if you are,” you mumble, suddenly shy.

A bright smile spreads over his lips and he nods, following you in.

Chilled by the harsh wind, the only thing on your mind is a hot drink as you lead Sunghoon to the kitchen. He shakes his head when you offer him one, sitting on the countertop and exhaling into his palms before rubbing them together. You can’t help but frown at the sight, feeling guilty that you can’t change the weather to suit him. At your thought process, your brows raise. Wow, you think. Is this who you are?

You busy yourself with the selection of hot drinks you and Chaewon have accumulated, eyeing each container from top to bottom. A purple tub of Cadbury’s hot chocolate that you’re sure is on the brink of expiration, coffee—sachets of the instant stuff you’ve grown to like since leaving home, Earl grey from one of many brands, or the fancy silk tea bags Chaewon’s mum brought home from a trip—rooibos or plum-apple-cinnamon.

Craving something sweet, you settle for hot chocolate, pulling the heavy container from the cupboard next to Sunghoon’s head and setting it beside your cup. He’s on his phone, scrolling too fast to take in anything he’s seeing and he shakes his head when you ask if he wants something to drink.

On the dish rack, Chaewon’s mug catches your eye, so you pick it up to dry it off and put it down next to yours. “I’m going to check if Wonie wants any,” you say, wiping imaginary crumbs from the counter onto the floor.

Sunghoon only clears his throat, shaking his head. “She’s not home, one of her acrylics popped off so she’s at the shop waiting for a cancellation.”

The information itself isn’t jarring but hearing it from Sunghoon is. You put on what you hope is a neutral smile and nod, taking milk from the fridge and assembling your drink on autopilot while thinking of ways to redirect the conversation.

“If you knew you’d have to go back to campus so soon, why’d you walk me home?” you ask, watching your cup spin in the microwave. “I could’ve walked on my own.”

Sunghoon is already looking at you when you turn your head, his cheeks puffed out with air as he blinks slowly. Because I love you, is what you hope he’ll say. You think you need him to say it.

“Because you don’t have to do anything on your own when you have me,” he says instead, and it’s infinitely better.

The words seep through your every fibre, his intonation and lucid affection making a home for themselves in your heart, spreading warmth from head to toe. Your smile becomes a radiant grin, only brightening when he shakes his head, smiling down at his feet.

Sunghoon hugs you in the kitchen when it’s time for him to leave, his arms holding you tight to his chest as he rocks you back and forth. You inhale his scent, all warm citrus under freshly washed cotton and something exclusive to him.

Wiping the smile from your face feels impossible. You don’t let go when he does, and a sweet laugh — a giggle, you think — tumbles out of him as he mumbles that he really has to go. Still, you cling onto him, taking clumsy steps backwards, with your arms locked around his waist, to your front door, smiling as you watch him put his shoes on.

“You don’t have to walk me downstairs, honestly,” he says, looking down at you in the doorway.

“I want to.”

His lips quirk up at the corners, a full smile breaking through and causing your stomach to flutter with so much force you’re sure it’s visible through your shirt. His eyes fall to your lips, lingering, before he clears his throat, looking away.

“I’ll text you when I get to the door, promise.”

You lock your pinky with his. “Send a selfie, just so I know it’s you and not someone else using your phone.”

Sunghoon’s head falls back in a laugh. “Should I just call you? That way you can make sure I get back to uni in one piece.”

You nod.

“That wasn’t anything with Chaewon earlier, I just needed advice on some girl stuff..” He trails off, searching your eyes. It’s obvious that he’s telling the truth, that he wants you to believe him. You do. “I wasn’t sure if that was something I could talk about with you.”

Girl stuff. Hmm. You try not to read too much into it and look at the bigger picture instead—your best friend is going through something and doesn’t feel like he can come to you about it.. You squeeze his pinky reassuringly, a flutter in your stomach when he smiles.

“You can talk to me about anything,” you say, meaning it.

Sunghoon presses his lips together, humming and unlinking your fingers. “Next time,” he says after a beat, waving at you.

You shut the door, locking it while watching through the peephole, he leaves as soon as the lock clicks shut. In the kitchen, your hot chocolate is cooling down, and your phone rings in your back pocket. Sunghoon’s calling.

Hanging out with Sunghoon. Making sure he sticks to the time-blocked schedule you made for him. Quizzing him on biology terms until he gets restless. If the last two weeks were an episode of Family Feud, those would be the top three answers to the question: Name something YN is doing right now.

Thankfully tonight, it’s the first one.

You’ve been sitting on the couch for so long, Jake has both left for football practice and arrived from football practice. Conversation ebbs and flows—an hour or so of nonstop talking, followed by another hour or so of comfortable near silence.

It’s during a quiet hour that Sunghoon sits up straight, clearing his throat before saying, “Let me ask you something. He retreats to the other side of the couch, turning to face you with his whole body. “I don’t want things to be weird after I ask, so no matter what your answer is, I won’t bring it up or ask again.”

Arching a curious brow, you nod. “You can ask me anything,” you say, meaning it.

Sunghoon’s face is impressively blank—minus the motion of sharp teeth worrying plush lip, there’s absolutely nothing behind his eyes that seem to stare right through you.

Eventually, he asks, “Can I kiss you?” He says more. Big, scary words like for closure and moving on, but they don’t register. They don’t matter.

Your heart pounds at the base of your throat as you find interest in your hands that sit in your lap. Even without looking at him, you can’t get over the slight crease he had in his brow and the slight tremor in his hands.

“For closure,” you repeat, though your voice doesn’t sound like it’s coming from you, muffled under the thump of your heart.

Sunghoon nods. “For closure.”

A humourless laugh sneaks past your throat as you look at him. You shouldn’t have. In the lamplight, Sunghoon is golden and glorious. Warm light casts one side of his face, diffusing gently over the steep slope of his nose, highlighting his moles and the look in his eyes, gentle and curious all at once. Unwillingly, your gaze falls to his lips, parted, tempting.

One firm nod of your head brings Sunghoon’s hand to your face, his palm cupping your cheek with soft skin as his thumb traces your cheekbone. You grow anxious under his stare, under the drag of his eyes over your features, taking them one at a time like he’s committing them to memory.

Leaning in, your eyes flutter shut as your lips meet his and he freezes, mouth completely still on yours. Delicately, your tongue traces the seam of his lips, soft and plump, until they part for you, moving with yours. Sunghoon’s kiss is unpolished when it reaches you. It’s hesitant but tender, clumsy but sweet, he’s trying and he’s perfect; your favourite.

The kiss is.. it’s everything. It’s the racing of your heart, the thudding, the vibrant buzz you can hear, feel humming against your ears. It’s a rush of blood to the head, a lightness all over that pulls you out of your body. It’s Sunghoon’s soft lips curving into a smile against yours, his gentle hold on your face never letting up as he holds you as close as he can manage, and it’s every bit as lovely as the rest of him.

Palpable is the heartbeat of your friendship, beating to a lull under the surface of the kiss, fizzling out into nothing, a steady silence, flatlining to give way to something more, something bigger.

Every brush of your lips against his is a revelation, a confession. You’re all I’ve ever wanted, you tell him with your kiss. You’re everything I need. His free hand finds yours, locking your fingers and squeezing, the action timed well enough to make you think he hears you, to make you think he’s saying, we’ll be okay, I still love you.

With that, he pulls away, a delicate tension piercing the air. Blown eyes and laboured breathing—he’s beautiful, fuzzy around the edges with warm orange and all of the love in your heart. Breathless, you chew on your lip, cognisant of Sunghoon’s hand in yours and the sparkle in his eyes as he looks at you.

Belatedly, you squeeze his hand back, smiling. “Was it everything you ever dreamed of?” you whisper, part teasing, all curious.

Abruptly, Sunghoon stands up, letting go of you in the process. “I have to go.”

You want to stop him, you think you’re supposed to. To grab him by the arm and kiss him again, to yell in his face that you love him until he understands. But you don’t. Instead, you stay seated, staring at Sunghoon’s back and following him with your eyes out of the room and down the hall until he’s out of sight.

It’s your first time being so upset after a kiss, and you can’t tell if it’s his leaving or the mention of him moving on that’s tripping you up so much. That’s causing melancholy to crawl from the shadows, sinking its jagged nails into your skin to pull you under.

You love him. He’s gone.

Eyes stuck on the doorway, time stretches over the room around you, thick and malleable, wet and cloying—clay stuck under your nails for days as the fire in the kiln rages on.

Sighing, you get up and wait at his door. You ball your hand into a limp fist, knocking weakly. Sunghoon doesn’t reply. You try again, harder. Still nothing.

Barging into the room, you find him sitting on the end of his bed with his face in his hands.

“Don’t move on.” The words come out before you realise and Sunghoon lifts his head, squinting at you.

“Huh?” He tilts his head, watching closely as you approach him, tipping it back enough to meet your eyes when you stand over him.

You take a breath, holding it until your head starts to spin. “I don’t want you to love someone else, Sunghoon. Please don’t move on.”

The stillness that follows is disconcerting, a long quiet you can feel on your skin, amplifying the blank stare on his face as he looks up at you. His eyes flash, a spark of hope behind them so bright it stings to look at.

“Do you..” He trails off, his lips moving to form the next word though stopping short.

“I do,” you whisper, nodding. “I’m sorry for taking so long.”

An exhaled laugh comes from his nose as he grins, shaking his head. “You like me?” he asks, excitement and disbelief fighting for authority over his voice, his hands holding your waist and pulling you down into his lap.

“I love you,” you admit, settling on his thighs.

“You do?” His eyes are wide and gleaming, searching every feature on your face before settling on your own.

You nod. “So much.”

Sunghoon’s chin tips up, his lips pressing against yours, excited pecks that can’t turn into much more for the smiles on your faces. You rest your arms on his shoulders, hands clasping behind his head, nervous fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“So.. will you be my boyfriend? For real?”

Tilting his head, he tries and fails to fight a smile. “I will. I’m a little bummed though.”

“Why?” You raise a brow, and the word tips up at the end with it.

“I wanted to be the one to ask you.” Sunghoon’s honesty warms the room, endearing you completely.

You grin, loving the heat spreading over your cheeks. “Ask me anyway.”

“Please can I be your boyfriend?”

In the weeks that followed, it became immediately clear that boyfriend Sunghoon operated on a pendulum swinging between sexual ferality and terror. He’d get distracted during study sessions at home, finding more interest in biting at your neck than stream-of-consciousness prose, but closed his eyes if a sex scene came on TV. He’d buck his hips against yours while making out but flinch at the sight of condoms in the store.

He wasn’t ready to have sex and didn’t know how to tell you, so you took matters into your own hands, asking if you could wait until after his results for resubmission came in, saying you didn’t want the distraction for either of you. Sunghoon agreed, pecking your cheek and holding you tight to his chest.

The only thing was that your lecturer hadn’t given him an exact date, so every morning, you held your phone in a vice grip waiting for Sunghoon to update you, and every morning, you got the same text: Nothing today, baby ☹️

This morning, you’re brushing your teeth when he texts you, in all caps: NO FUCKING WAY I GOT A 98 !!! LOOK !!!

When the picture comes through, it’s of him in the mirror and you choke on mouthwash at the sight. He’s smiling, bright and beautiful, in a black vest that he’s holding up a little to show his stomach, though his palm is in the way of his toned abs, and it cuts off right at the top of his grey sweatpants.

Your mouth goes dry as you click on it, fixating on every little detail you can find: the thickness of his fingers against his phone, the dip in his collarbones, the breadth of his shoulders and the cinch of his waist. In a fit of desperation, you try swiping at the bottom of your screen, willing the picture to magically extend. It doesn’t.

hoonie: Finger slipped.. You like?

you: mm..

you: 98??? HOLY SHIT, LOOK AT YOU!!!

hoonie: All you.. do you like the picture?

you: i love it………….

hoonie: My girl 🤍

Another picture comes in, and sure enough, through the glare of his laptop screen, you see: Course name: The Modernist Movement: Joyce, Woolf, and Hemingway. Marks Awarded: 98.0.

you: well done baby !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hoonie: Thx 😁

hoonie: Can I have my prize now ha ha .. haha 😈

you: just for that emoji, no you absolutely cannot.

Your resolve isn’t strong enough when it comes to Sunghoon, because purple devil emoji and all, you show up at his door with condoms in your bag and a bouquet of lilies behind your back.

The door creaks open and Sunghoon greets you with a grin. “Hey, gorgeous. You proud of me?”

You beam at him, holding out the flowers. “I’m very proud, Hoon, well done.”

“I don’t want to ruin the moment,” he starts, taking the bouquet from your hands and sniffing the flowers with an approving smile. “But hearing you say you’re proud of me is awakening something I didn’t know existed.”

“A good something?”

“Mm,” he hums, arms finding your waist before he pecks your lips. “A very good something.”

Sunghoon’s words hit your lips and your core, a desperate heat flooding your stomach as he kisses you deeply, his body pressed tightly against yours while he pulls you into his apartment. He kicks the door shut with his foot, slipping his hand under your jacket to settle in your back pocket, not quite squeezing but holding your ass as gently as he can manage.

He breaks away from you, love in his eyes as he stares down into yours, catching his breath. “I don’t think we own a vase.”

In his kitchen, you rifle through cupboards to find something to hold the flowers, eventually finding a whiskey decanter in the cupboard under the sink, and holding it up for Sunghoon to see.

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “It’s Jay’s. It’ll work right?”

You nod, taking it to the sink to rinse it. Sunghoon wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder watching you fill the decanter with water and flower food before grabbing the bouquet. He presses open-mouthed kisses to your neck and you struggle to stay focused as you cut down the stems on the flowers, arranging them neatly.

“Can I take a photo?” he asks when you’re done.

He’s smiling when you turn around to look at him, a soft curve of his lips that makes your heart race, a deep tenderness in his eyes when you meet them. You smile too.

“They’re yours, baby, do whatever you want.”

“A photo of you with the flowers,” he clarifies.

Warmth settles in your chest, a grin spreading over your lips from ear to ear. You nod, taking the decanter in your hands when he lets go of you, holding the flowers up beside your face and smiling for his camera. As his phone shutter clicks away, you steal glances at his face behind it. He’s watching the screen with a smile, telling you how beautiful you are.

“I want pictures of you too,” you say, handing the flowers over.

“I’m yours, baby, do whatever you want.”

Sunghoon poses for your photos, smiling sweetly in some and sniffing the bouquet appreciatively with closed eyes for others. He’s glowing and he’s beautiful and your heart triples in size while taking picture after picture until your phone tells you it has ten percent.

“Thank you, YN,” he says. “I’ve never gotten flowers before, I love them.” His arms settle around your waist, lips pressing against yours before you have the chance to respond.

You try anyway, mumbling against his lips that you love him. In response, Sunghoon grins, but the feeling of his cock growing hard against you is distracting, a lust-coated thorn in the side of the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. With locked lips and uncertain steps, the two of you bump into corners and trip over your own feet, stumbling to his room and parting only to tear his hoodie over his head.

Breathless, you pull away, eyes trailing over him and picking up on everything, from the tremble in his hands to the lust-addled worry in his eyes. He’s nervous, you think—though it escapes you, the last word coming out like a question.

Sunghoon scoffs, his hands resting on your waist under your shirt, skin clammy against yours. “Of course, I’m nervous.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“I just want to be good for you.”

“Don’t worry about that, let me take care of you, Hoon.” Your palms drag up his torso — firm abs through soft cotton, defined chest over racing heart — to rest on his shoulders. “Sit,” you say when he nods.

He gulps, taking a seat on the end of his bed under your gentle push, eyes widening when you sink to your knees between his legs and reach for his drawstring, pulling the ends to untie the knot.

“Wait,” Sunghoon says, breathless, scrunching up his face and dropping his head. “Let me calm down, baby. At this rate, I’ll come just seeing your hand on it.”

You giggle, resting your head on his thigh and wrapping the drawstring around your finger.

“I’m serious, YN,” he mumbles, laughing as he takes his vest off. “I need a minute.”

Sunghoon’s eyes are pressed shut as he tries to collect himself, lips pouty and kiss-bitten, slightly parted with ragged breaths slipping out. You wait patiently for him. He’s so pretty like this, with the crease in his brow and the pretty pink flush dusting his cheeks as his chest rises and falls. You can’t help but smile, leaning into his touch when his hand rests on top of your head, his blunt nails grazing your scalp. After a while, he seems more at ease, his eyes finding yours and he smiles shyly, telling you he’s ready now and lifting his hips from the bed to let you pull his sweats and underwear down.

Free from the constraints of fabric, his cock slaps his stomach with a wet sound as the tip meets his skin, leaving a pearlescent streak over his abs. The sight makes your mouth water and you can’t look away. “Pretty,” you whisper.

Wrapping a hand under his tip, you swipe it with your thumb, taking time to memorise the flutter of his eyelids, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, and the soft sigh he lets out. You stroke him slowly, liking the way his breath picks up as his brows knit together before you take him in your mouth. It’s a tight fit but you do your best, spurred on by the way he tugs at your hair and stutters through a holy fuck as you take as much of him as you can.

Sunghoon goes silent, only squirming when you use your hand to stroke him near his base. Self-conscious about his lack of vocal affirmation, you look up at him through your lashes, and the pure bliss on his face is unbearably attractive. His eyes are rolled back under furrowed brows, his mouth hanging open as he throws his head back.

“Am I doing okay?” you ask, using the moment to catch your breath.

He nods, inhaling shakily and screwing his eyes shut while his hips buck up into your fist. “I’m.. You’re doing such a good job, baby, so good.”

Satisfaction courses through you from the praise, a high that dulls the ache in your jaw. Still watching him, you massage his balls in your palm, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his tip when he whines. You tongue at his slit until he thrusts back into your mouth, tip hitting your throat, and he gasps when you gag, his arm coming up to cover his eyes. A belated apology slips from his lips, mumbled as he strokes your hair with a shaking hand and goes quiet again. When you speed up, his breath stutters, the muscles in his thighs contracting around your head as you suck and lick and drool on his cock.

A moan of your name, and his hand holding your hand down, are the only warnings you get before Sunghoon comes, spilling his load right down your throat. Whining, his hips buck up against your face, pushing further and further until he falls back onto the mattress.

Your throat is hoarse and aches while you use the back of your hand to wipe at your lips, enjoying what’s left of his taste on your tongue. Deep red tints his neck and chest, a pretty flush gleaming under the sheen of sweat on his skin. He’s mesmerising, as he tries for air through swollen lips and looks up at you through squinted eyes. He reaches for you, cute grabby hands tugging your shirt and pulling you down so you’re lying next to him with your head on his chest.

“You’re amazing, baby, so good for me,” Sunghoon whispers, eyes fluttering shut as you drag your nails over his torso, feeling the subtle heave of the slick, sculpted muscle over his stomach and chest.

Pride heats your chest, satisfaction rolling over you like a wave. “Really?”

He hums in affirmation, nodding his head.

“You were so quiet, I couldn’t really tell,” you add, hungry for more praise.

“The walls are so thin in here, I just got used to being quiet,” Sunghoon says, frowning. Hand meeting your chin, he tips your head up towards him, pressing a soft kiss to your lips and mumbling, “I’m sorry. You were perfect, I swear.”

It’s a sweet kiss. Until lips move harder and hands get lower, desperate as he thumbs the top of your leggings, palm unmoving but a dangerous heat blooms in your stomach anyway.

“Can I..” Sunghoon pinches you softly through the material, unsure eyes boring deep into yours.

You nod. “You can.”

Slipping under your waistband, his fingers skate across your skin dipping between your thighs. He grazes your slit, satisfaction clear in the groan he lets out as he feels the wetness there, pulling it over the length of your slit to cover your clit. Your breath hitches, a strangled gasp, pleasure and surprise meeting in your throat under the pressure of his thumb on your clit, the gentle sting of his finger pushing into you.

What Sunghoon lacks in experience, he makes up for with the sheer length and thickness of his fingers. It’s almost jarring, it’s enough to force your eyes closed and bring a sigh rumbling out of you, ache and relief settling between your legs, where he curls a finger against your walls and drags slow circles over your clit.

“Can you take these off, baby?” he asks, hand away to touch your leggings.

You don’t waste a second, sitting up to pull them off, throwing them and your underwear across the room. Sunghoon licks his lips, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

“And this? If you want..”

You nod, pulling it off immediately to let it join the rest of your clothes in a heap on the floor. The way he gulps is a confidence boost, his dilated pupils taking in every inch of your body, though his gaze always pulls back to your bra—white and lacy, thin enough for your nipples to push through the fabric and Sunghoon can’t seem to get enough, though he waits until you’re lying down again to touch you.

Sunghoon props himself up on his elbow, leaning over you. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, dragging a finger over the lace at the top of your bra, toying with the material and the little bow sitting between your breasts. His eyes flick up to meet yours. “So beautiful,” he repeats.

Hiding your face in his chest, you mumble, “Thank you,” into his skin while trying to ignore the heat spreading over your body wherever he touches you. His hand trails from your arm to your waist, resting on your hips to slip over your ass for a beat, where he grabs and squeezes the flesh there before coming back around to slot between your legs—you lift one of them, resting it over his body, and he’s smiling sweetly when you look up at him.

Sunghoon’s movements are unchanging, though the sensation is heightened by the unbridled desire in his lidded eyes that urges white heat to lick over every inch of your skin—this time he pushes two fingers into you.

It doesn’t get better than this, you think. But it does, quickly.

Leaning over you, his eyes flick across your face, one feature at a time as he chews on his lip. Reaching up, you push some of his hair from his face, holding it back and saying, “Relax, baby.”

“Don’t want to hurt you.”

Moving your hand, you blink when his hair flops back over his forehead, tickling your eyelashes. His eyes are focused now, staring straight down into yours, want and worry flashing behind them.

“You won’t, I promise,” you say, locking your pinky with his, feeling relieved when he smiles.

Sunghoon pushes in slowly, his name slipping from your lips when he exhales shakily, head falling forward. The sting, the pleasure, make it hard to breathe, molten desire taking hold of your lungs as he carves out a place for himself as far as you’ll take him, all the way to the hilt as slow as he can manage.

A moan tears out of him, lewd and whiny as his hair tickles your collarbone, head falling into the crook of your neck. His skin is hot and damp against yours, his breath burning your shoulder as he tries to calm down. It’s difficult to register much else, tethered only by the sound of his voice when he asks, “Am I hurting you?”

“Hoon,” you whisper.

“Can you look at me, baby?” He lifts his head, resting a hand on your cheek. You blink your eyes open, gaze locking with his, where concern pushes through his desire. “Am I hurting you?” he asks again. “Are you okay?”

You nod. “I’m okay, just..” You sigh. “Full. Need a minute.”

Sunghoon kisses you, lips moving gently with yours, passing breathy whines between your mouths until you feel yourself relaxing. Pulling his plush bottom lip between yours, you suck on it, nodding. “Want you to move, baby,” you mumble.

He scans your face, eyes meeting yours as he pulls his hips back. He’s slow, so slow with his thrusts that your belly turns with want, your fingernails sink into the taut skin of his back, and jagged sobs fall out of you with each drag of his cock along your walls.

Everywhere his skin touches yours is set ablaze with scorching heat, goosebumps pushing past the surface as his breath fans your neck and his sharp teeth graze your skin. He bites hard enough to sting, and you wince as his tongue flicks over your bitten flesh to soothe you.

You were so worked up earlier, writhing against the sheets and coming undone in his palm, so bliss quickly pushes through the ache between your legs. “Good, Hoon, feels so good,” you manage, struggling to convey how perfect it is.

“Just want to make you feel good.” His words melt into each other, vowels soft and elongated as they curl around each other. He’s working up a steady rhythm, his tip consistently nudging you where you need it—the spot that makes the room blur around you. “That’s all I want.”

Before long, the knot in your stomach pulls you up from the mattress, arching your back towards the ceiling. Mouth to mouth, chest to chest—it’s the closest you’ve ever felt to someone else, the closest you’ve ever been. The thought alone knocks the wind out of you, and his persistent whining does nothing to help.

Your want and adoration for Sunghoon run bone-deep, inching up your spine and creeping over your shoulders, intertwined with an all-consuming pleasure that turns the heat in your stomach molten as a shudder zips through you. Even though you can’t find the words to let him know, he lifts your hips from the bed to fuck you deeper, harder, into the mattress until shaky orgasms pull both of you under.

You let him fall into you, fingers curling around his hair, whispering I love you into the skin of his neck as he comes, most of his weight on top of you while you catch your breath, relishing in the fullness you feel as the last waves of your high pull back. You stay like this for as long as he needs, his head coming up from the crook of your neck to smile at you before pressing his lips to yours. A sleepy haze fills the room around you, tongue swiping tongue as you giggle happily into his mouth.

After a while, he gets up, tying the condom to throw it away and comes back with his shirt. He uses it to clean up—gentle between your legs, pressing kisses to your calves while he does. Sunghoon’s tenderness wraps around your heart, and love clouds your vision, forming a blurry trail that follows all of his movements, glowing like something from a dream, ethereal, an apparition.

The bed dips beside you, his arms around you, pulling you in so his chin rests on your head. You push your cheek into his chest, hoping the two of you will meld into one—the thought makes you warm all over, a fuzziness that reaches every part of your body while he presses kisses into your hair, rubbing your back.

“I love you,” he says, voice as soft as the rest of him. “I’m glad I exist.”

mama park: Hi lovely 😍 missing you lots, wondering when you’ll be home for Xmas………..love ma

Sunghoon stirs, nose scrunching as he snores softly into the quiet of a winter morning. His chest rises and falls steadily under your head and he doesn’t move when you sit up. The lamp on his desk is still on — neither of you could be bothered getting up to turn it off last night — and under its dim glow, you admire him. Perfect lips gently curved—long lashes kissing the skin under his eyes.

Love hits you from all angles, warmth all over from head to toe despite the chill in Sunghoon’s room. You can’t help but grin, leaning up to nose along the underside of his chin, his natural scent so soft yet dizzying as you nuzzle into him. He stirs again, turning his head this way and that before resting, you feel a bit bad, deciding to leave him be and text his mum back.

you: hi mum !!! missing you sooooooo much :((( will be home asap

mama park: BTW Sunghoon told me everything. I raised such good actors LOL make sure he looks after you and keeps you happy!

you: i’m so sorry we lied to you..

you: but i’m really happy with him and he loves me a lot

you: i love him so much .. never been so sure of anyone in my life

permanent taglist: @asahicore

#sunghoon smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen scenarios #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon smut #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #sunghoon oneshots #sunghoon imagines #enhypen hard hours #fic.sunghoon

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berzahoes · 5 months

Text

manifestation, baby! | tom blyth

summary: fans find out tom’s girlfriend has an old youtube channel where she reviewed the ballad of songbirds and snakes (and she definitely manifested her life)

an: the way i thought about this idea and quickly wrote it down so i didn’t forget it. i used to have an app that made those fake tweets but i’m just tired to make fake profiles 😭 maybe i’ll change it later idk

for the purpose of this imagine, let’s pretend tbosas book was published between 2017-2019

liked by zeglerslove, 444_bri and 35,377 others

tomblythxsnow apparently tom’s girlfriend has an old youtube channel where she reviews books and she reviewed the ballad of songbirds and snakes and she literally manifested her future 😭

lucymygf WHATTT WHATS HER CHANNEL NAME

tomblythxsnow it’s yn’s book corner. she hasn’t posted since 2019 ngl i need her to review a little life because that book destroyed me

nat76_ omg i used to watch her videos!! i’m still subscribed to her 😭 i remember only buying and reading the books she liked because i wanted to be her so bad

j4ckaszlol “if someone ever makes a movie adaptation of this book and casts someone attractive to play snow then i am sorry for the person i become” REALLLLL

graybairdsmockingjay dude the part where she said “i’m calling it now whoever plays young snow will be my boyfriend. movie studios always cast someone attractive as the younger version of a character!” MY JAW DROPPED SHE NEEDS TO TELL ME HER WAYS

“guess what rachel just sent me.” you heard tom say when he arrived to your shared apartment.

“wedding invitations?!” you gasped as you almost stood up from the sofa since you were watching reruns of criminal minds, but tom stopped you.

“no, it’s better!” tom sat beside you and showed you his phone. “why didn’t you tell me you had a youtube channel?” on his phone screen was your review of the ballad of songbirds and snakes, which had become a very popular video over the past couple of days.

you hid your face with a pillow and groaned. “don’t remind me. i just wanted to talk about my books and my family didn’t care. don’t watch it! it’s embarrassing!”

“i think it’s cute. aw look, your dog made a cameo!” he pointed at your old dog you used to have that walked into the frame.

“indi! no, come sit right here. oh . . . and she’s walking away. okay, anyways.” your younger self said in the video

“indi? why Indi?” tom asked you even though you were still hiding from embarrassment.

“after indiana jones. my dad and i loved those movies and he gifted me indi as a birthday present.” you confessed.

“love, don’t be embarrassed. i think it’s cute that you manifested your life according to the comments on instagram,” tom paused the video then cuddled up to you. “i won’t watch it if you don’t want me to.”

“it’s fine, i just didn’t think anyone would find it. we can watch it together.” you uncovered yourself and sat down properly to watch the video with tom. before he pressed the play button and together you watch your younger self review the book.

“i’ve read all the hunger games books at least four times and this one did not disappoint. but i do hope whoever ends up being cast as young snow is someone hot. i’m sorry it’s the rules! and they will be my boyfriend, i’m calling dibs.”

tom smirked at you. “if only younger you could see you now.”

“she would definitely think ‘wow, how did we pull this beautiful man?’ then be confused as to why the hunger games and fnaf is trending in 2023.”

liked by tomblyth, rachelzegler and 1,377,389 others

ynlovesbooks told ya. love you tomblyth ❤️

rachelzegler she is THAT girl

ynlovesbooks no u

everdeenx12 bestie he’s EVIL

ynlovesbooks he’s a walking red flag but my favorite color is red 😍

chamaletproblems pls tell me how you did this

ynlovesbooks i figured out who they were casting and kept him hostage until he agreed to be my bf

tomblyth true

#tom blyth one shot #tom blyth fanfic #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #tbosas

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byechristopher · 4 months

Text

Quiet.

– MATT STURNIOLO SMUT.

Author's note: Y'ALL. Shout-out to my Matt girls. This is my first Matt fic ever. I love everything about this fic – I love when women get ready when their crush MIGHT be there, I fucking love petnames and I feel like Matt definitely uses a lot too, I love movie nights and Matt would definitely finger his girl under the covers, I love dom but gentle Matt. I love it. Bye. Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: long and filthy smut. Minors dni! Semi-public?, fingering, petnames, dom!Matt. Didn't proofread!

"So, can you swing by?" I hear my friend's voice through the phone.

"Absolutely. Heading to the market in a bit, grabbing some beers, and I'll be at your place by 9PM. Sound good?" I reply, rummaging through every drawer to find my wallet.

"Perfect, babes. See you there!" she says. After exchanging greetings, I hang up, sliding my phone into the back pocket of my pants.

Considering Matthew freaking Sturniolo will be there, I'm already dressed with makeup on, not wanting to waste a single second; I aim to be there ASAP.

Not that I'm trying to impress Matt (yes I am), but there's been a thing between us (I refuse to call it a "situationship") since we all started hanging out. I've been part of that friend group for nearly two years now, and from the moment I joined, Matt started being quite flirty. And ever since then, we just casually flirt, make-out, have sex.. very casual.

Now, after a few weeks of not seeing each other (though we talk on the phone almost daily), I want to be my best self. I've done my skincare, enjoyed a three-hour-long bath, styled my hair in loose curls, put on comfy clothes – the whole shebang. If I've done this for nothing, I'll scream. Internally.

None of this matters now, because I am outside my friend's apartment, clutching the paper bag of beers in one hand and my scarf in the other one. I knock on the door, patiently waiting but instead of my friend, of course it's Matt who opens it, dressed in his signature black hoodie, black jeans, his usual chain dangling around his neck and his usual rings decorating his fingers. He looks.. delicious.

"Didn't expect me to open the door." it's more of a statement than a question, so I smile and nod.

"Not really, no." I chuckle, not moving an inch.

"You told me you'd be here by 9. So I'm here." he says with that captivating voice, taking a step closer, slowly pulling the door handle without closing it.

Cupping my cheek, he moves in, rubbing my bottom lip with his thumb, gently 1smudging my lipgloss before leaning in for a kiss. I release my scarf to grab his free hand, tugging on his fingertips as I reciprocate the kiss.

"You look pretty." he whispers against my lips and I smile.

Before entering, I pause him, rubbing his lips with my thumb to remove my lipgloss from them. Chuckling at his knowing stare, I say, "come on, let's go!" gently pushing him inside.

God help me, he smells amazing.

After greeting everyone and putting the beers inside the fridge, I take off my scarf and my coat, heading to the kitchen again so I can help with the snacks and the beers.

"Guys, I'm sorry in advance but you're probably going to freeze your ass off. Something's wrong with the heating so I'll just give y'all a ton of blankets." our friend apologises but we all brush it off.

"Bitch, we used to hang out in dark alleys in WINTER when we were younger, literally shut up. We can take it." another friend says, rolling her eyes and I laugh. We are all living the same lives, it seems.

After deciding which movie we will watch, with the snacks and the drinks on the table and the blankets ready to provide us with warmth, we were finally ready. I did have my eye on Matt so of course, when he patted the spot next to him on the small settee while looking at me with a smile, I almost ran to make sure I secure my place next to him.

The movie has started already, Matt is sitting next to me and we have two blankets covering us – his hand is on my thigh and my thigh is over his leg. His thumb is rubbing my leg through my pants and it's much more distracting than I could ever imagine. I do make sure to curl up against his side and he smiles, making sure the blankets are covering me properly.

Not even fifteen minutes have passed and I already feel the need to pee; that goddamn wine. I excuse myself and practically run to the bathroom, only to come back a few minutes later to see Matt almost laying on that settee. All the lights are closed but I know he can kind of see my reflection because of the big TV screen, so he can see the question marks all over my face – where the hell am I gonna seat?

He smiles and he pushes the blankets to the side, sitting up a bit and spreading his legs so I can sit in between them.

Well, fuck.

Sitting down in between his legs, I grab his thighs to support myself and make sure my whole back is pressed against him, leaning back to practically lay on his chest. I pull the blankets over us and he pecks the top of my head, almost as if it was a reward.

Seeing where all of this is going, I thank whoever is up there because our friends are quite far from us, all fully facing the TV. Matt quickly wraps his arms around my waist, resting them on my belly and I can feel how cold his hands are even through my shirt. Minutes go by and I can feel Matt playing with my shirt, his cold fingertips already touching my bare skin, raising goosebumps on it. He drags his short fingernails up and down my sides, making me smile because he knows I like that.

His hands slowly drag themselves up, pulling my shirt over my chest, my breasts now free, "love when you're not wearing a bra." he whispers in my ear and I chuckle.

My hands are on his knees and his hands are on my breasts, cupping them and caressing them, pressing small kiss on my neck, "you smell amazing.." he whispers, "do you think you can be quiet for me, pretty?" he pecks the tip of my ear.

"Yes, Matt.." I whisper back, getting comfortable on his chest, still pretending to watch that movie.

His hands are massaging my breasts, rubbing and pinching my nipples with his long fingers, tugging on them every now and then – it is hard to keep quiet but I've done this many times, I'm sure I can handle it.

Sitting with bent knees now, he hums, pressing another rewarding kiss on the top of my head, "keep playing with your tits for me, hm? I'm gonna take care of you." he whispers and I want to moan just by the words he says.

I nod and cup my breasts instead, massaging them gently as I feel his hands moving down to my thighs – he massages them and spreads my legs open gently, placing his legs on my feet to keep my legs in place. I feel his fingertips hooking around the waistband of my pants and panties, gently pulling them down as I slowly raise my hips to make it easier for him.

"You have to be very quiet now, okay?" he says and I immediately nod, desperately needing him to touch me there, "tease your nipples. I want to see you struggling." he chuckles, keeping me close to him.

I gently hit his leg and he can't help but laugh – I keep teasing my nipples, just like he ordered, keeping my eyes to the television even though I can feel his fingers dangerously close to where I need him the most. Finally, one of his fingers gently touch my clit, rubbing in circle motions as his breath fans over my ear together with the softest moans. I can feel him dragging his finger down, only to chuckle at how wet it is down there – I almost whine.

"God, I wanna taste you. You're so wet." he whispers and circles my entrance, collecting my juices and focusing back on my clit.

"Matty.. please.." I whisper back, my hands now leaving my sensitive breasts, grabbing his thighs instead.

"Please what, sweetheart?" he says and gently slaps my pussy, making me gasp softly.

I couldn't speak – all I can think about is his fingers inside of me. But I feel like if I open my mouth now, I won't be able to keep my moans in. I buck my hips, needing to feel more pressure on my clit but he's having none of it. He pushes my hips down and flicks my clit in the softest way possible, which makes me want to cry.

"You know how it goes. Use your words." he uses two other fingers to spread my pussy, making it easier for him to rub my clit with his middle finger.

"Please.. Matty.. I need.. your fingers inside of me.." I beg between shaky breaths, trying to be as quiet as possible.

"See?" he kisses the side of my head, "there's my good girl." he says and just by that, I almost lose it. But then he finally pushes a finger inside of me and I have to cover my mouth with the blankets.

His middle finger pushes in and out of my wetness and I squeeze my eyes shut, really trying not to let out the moans that have been threatening to come out this whole time. His other arm is wrapped around me, keeping me in place as he rubs my clit and fingers me at the same time with his other hand.

"I'm going to add another finger, baby. I need you to keep that pretty mouth closed, yeah?" he warns – the hand that was gripping my waist is now keeping my mouth closed, I nod anyway.

He slowly takes his finger out and instead, he rubs my entrance with two fingers. He gently pushes and I wince softly in his hand, "you can take it, baby, shhh." he whispers and I really need to fucking moan now. He finally pushes both of his fingers inside of me and I want to cry from how good it feels. My nails dig into his thighs and luckily (for him), he's wearing jeans otherwise it would definitely leave a mark.

He starts moving them in and out, slowly, still covering my mouth under the blankets with his other hand as his lips move to my neck. He starts sucking on the skin, licking it and biting it as he pushes his fingers inside till he's knuckles-deep.

"I wish I could kiss you right now – the way you would moan into my mouth trying to kiss back, turns me on." he takes my earlobe in between his lips, gently sucking on it.

His fingers start moving at a much faster pace and I'm sure that if the TV wasn't this loud, everyone would hear the noises my pussy makes from how wet he made me. He curls his fingers inside of me and I close my eyes, really struggling to keep my mouth closed now, "pretty girl. Do you think you can take a third finger?"

I wrap my fingers around his wrist and slowly move his hand away from my mouth, letting him know I have my moans a little bit under control now (not even close), "please, Matt.. I need it.." I whisper, my voice is trembling. Still, I grab his free hand and pull it closer to me, taking a finger into my mouth and I can feel his bulge against my back.

"Darling, don't do that.." he warns, "or I'll have to fuck you in front of everyone." he whispers and bites my neck.

Finally, he's pushing a third finger inside and I really need to cry. He's finger-fucking me at a fast pace, he's being rough but gentle at the same time, it's overwhelming, "touch yourself, baby. And don't stop."

I quickly move my free hand, rubbing my own clit gently as he fucks me with force – I am so close and he knows it, I can feel myself clenching around his fingers.

"Matty.. Matt.. fuck, I'm – please.." I am almost completely under the covers because I can try to keep my moans in, but my expression definitely cannot be hidden.

"Are you going to cum for me, baby? Come on. Come on my fingers." he's so gentle when he speaks but his fingers are merciless, and that contrast is what drives me over the edge.

"That's it, baby.. that's it." he whispers and I finally cum, trembling a little but I try not to make it so obvious.

He takes his fingers out slowly, caressing my legs in order for me to calm down before he brings them close to his mouth, licking them clean, "when this movie is over, you're leaving with me. I'm eating you out in my car."

He drives me crazy.

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httpiastri · 4 months

Text

this christmas – op81

ski slopes, mistletoes, and the guy you've been crushing on for years – what could be better?

genre: fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers!au, smut (just one scene in the end, you can skip it if you want)

pairing: female leclerc!reader x oscar piastri

other characters: lando norris, charles leclerc, george russell & mundt, alex albon & lily muni he, pierre gasly & kika cerqueira gomes

warnings: mentions of alcohol, smut, not much more i think

word count: 13.8k (LMAO)

requested?: yes!!

author’s note: hello hello!! a lot to say about this one. first of all, thank you to @be-your-coffee-pot for this request, and i apologize for not getting to it earlier than now. for everyone’s knowledge, the request was sent in to me in august, so… yeah. i know it’s not exactly what you asked for, but i hope you like it anyway <3

second of all, i feel pretty happy about some of these scenes, but some… not so much. some of the fillers have parts that i really despite, but i don’t really have time to rewrite since christmas is like 2 days away lol. also, my description of the reader’s relationship to charles is not my best work, idk why he barely even appears, and i’m also not sure why logan isn’t in this...

third of all, my red divider things make my posts disappear from the tags, so i didn’t put any in this time. it looks bad, i know, but idk how to fix it. if anyone does, please let me know. :)

and lastly: i only proofread this whole thing once yesterday, but tumblr was being a bitch and i got so frustrated that i do not have the energy to proofread it again. so please, if you happen to find any spelling or grammar mistakes, i would be very thankful if you let me know. <3

hope you all enjoy !!

december 12th, 2:11pm

oscar has always loved winter.

it started in his childhood; the holiday films he'd seen as a child, the way it always seemed to magically snow right on christmas eve really started something in him. it hadn't been common for him to get snow back home in australia when he was younger but once he moved to the england, he got to experience it quite a lot. playing, fighting and just existing in the snow was like an unfilled childhood need that stayed with him until his older years.

he loved spending christmas at home with his family, but ever since he got to experience real christmases with snow, trees and cozy darkness, he craved it more than he craved lying on the beach in his swimming trunks.

so when he was asked to come along to the swiss alps for a vacation during the winter break, he packed his bags right away. he and lando just happened to book the same flight, and they both arrived at the airport around noon, getting into a cab to take them to the accommodation together.

when they arrive outside the cottage, oscar is in shock; it is enormous. he had imagined just a tiny, cute little house – not that he was sure how seven drivers and a couple of girlfriends would fit in a "tiny" house – but he was far from right.

him and lando are the second pair to arrive, just about an hour after alex and lily, who are the self-proclaimed 'hosts' as they took care of all of the booking and planning.

"we thought that one would be lando's room," alex starts, pointing down the hallway. "since it's far away from everyone else, and i'm sure we all would prefer to actually get some sleep during the night time."

"oh, shut it..." lando mumbles, shoving his friend on his shoulder.

"this one can be yours, oscar," lily says, moving in the opposite direction and gesturing to another room. then, she points at the one right next to it. "and this one has two beds, so it's for charles and his sister."

oscar's ears perk up. "y/n is going to be here?" he speaks almost took quickly, making the other three turn to look at him.

"oh, i thought you knew..." lily has an apologetic look on her face.

"i must've forgotten," oscar answers, though he's completely sure no one told him about it. there's no way he would forget you. "don't worry, it's cool."

the hosts continue to move down the hallway, and the mclaren boys are just about to follow along when lando elbows oscar's side playfully. "it's cool?"

oscar raises an eyebrow, trying to keep calm. "what?"

"the youngest leclerc coming along?" a grin takes up lando's entire face. "it's just cool? is she cool, or-"

"goodbye, lando." oscar shakes his head, darting towards alex and lily again. he takes a few deep breaths, hoping the blush he can feel spreading across his cheeks isn't too obvious.

unfortunately, lando didn't need to see the blush to know. he has caught his teammate staring at you too many times over the season, and he is fully aware of the way oscar always is suddenly interested in the conversation whenever you're the topic of discussion.

lando knows everything. and this christmas, he's going to be the best wingman the world has ever seen.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 12:53am

it's past midnight when you and charles arrive. your flight had been delayed, and then the gps had stopped working all of a sudden. and then, charles just refused to drive any faster than 30 km/h, saying it was too dangerous. as if he didn't drive cars in ten times that speed without even flinching.

you assume the whole house is sleeping already, so you and charles both sneak in as quietly as you can. someone – lily, assumably – has left you a note on the front door, guiding you to your shared room. it all goes smoothly – until charles trips over the doorframe, dropping his bag onto the floor as he tries not to fall down. the sound rattles through the hallway and you flinch, stopping in your tracks as you hope no one's woken up. but just a second later, the door opposite yours opens and a head sticks out.

oscar.

your heart softens and your shoulders relax when your gaze meets his. your soft smile is mirrored on his face, the sleepiness evident in his droopy eyes and the way strands of his bedhead point in every direction.

he looks like he's just about to say something when charles speaks up. "sorry, man! were you asleep?"

he walks up to the australian, giving him a firm handshake and a pat on the back. oscar shakes his head. "i was up reading," his huskey accent is like music to your ears. "i thought i heard some rustling out here, and then..." he nods his head toward the suitcase on the floor.

your brother laughs as he steps back, walking into the room with the "leclerc" sign. "well, i'll let you get back to that then," he says, picking up the bag from the floor and looking back one last time. "good night."

and then, you were just two.

you and oscar stand still for a moment, just watching each other. then, he opens up his arms, welcoming you into his embrace. you step forward and drape your arms around his shoulders as his wrap around your waist, and you let out a content sigh. he's warm, comfortable, and the way he squeezes your body has your mind spinning.

"it's been a while," he says when you part from the hug, a soft grin playing on his lips.

"like a month," you chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest.

"a month has never felt this long before."

you're not sure when your crush on him started forming.

as someone who's always been interested in racing, even in the series your brother isn't in, you've kept up with most results and championships – including oscar's seasons in f2 and f3. after seeing oscar, the unstoppable rookie who completely crushed his season in f3, you made sure to keep an eye at him in f2 the following year. and it's easy to say that you liked what you saw. especially in jeddah.

you'd meet him occasionally around the paddock the following year, just giving him a sweet smile and a quick greeting as if it was no big deal. but you always found yourself squealing on the inside and taking deep breaths to stay calm whenever you made eye contact with him.

then came 2023 and his debut in f1. yet again, he exceeded everyone's expectations, performing better than most drivers who'd been on the grid for years. with his permanent role on the grid, he was around more – and so were you. it wasn't uncommon for the two of you to bump into each other, around the paddock or during media days or in afterparties, and now you tried not to shy away.

talking to oscar was always simple. he was easygoing, it all seemed effortless, and you felt more relaxed. before you knew it, you could chat about racing strategies and tyre management for twenty minutes before a member of the mclaren staff interrupted you, rushing oscar away somewhere. you got to know each other slowly throughout the season, though never really going further than some friendly conversations, but you felt happy knowing that you'd taken the first step towards getting closer to him.

"so..." he starts. "you've been good?"

you nod. "yeah, a lot of studying but it's been alright. you?"

"yeah."

and there it is again, that slightly awkward silence. it's natural, you haven't seen each other since that night in abu dhabi and you're both a little unsure of where you stand after it. the tension is so thick that you could cut through it with a knife, and you kind of want to escape the whole situation. but then he speaks up.

"hey, i just wanted to-"

he's interrupted by the call of your name, and when you turn around, charles is leaning against the doorframe, eyes hazy. "are you going to sleep tonight or what?" he asks, dragging a hand through his already messy hair.

you feel a weight lift off your shoulders – and at the same time, your stomach tightens in disappointment. you nod at your brother, looking back at oscar to give him a wave and a "sleep well", before joining charles in your shared room.

oscar stands still in the corridor for a moment, before sighing and slapping himself in his mind for being so awkward and messing up this opportunity. but on the other side of the door, you stand still too as you watch your brother jump onto his bed, taking a deep breath to clear your mind.

you're just thankful the room is so dark that he can't see your ever-reddening cheeks.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 10:24am

despite the never-ending pitter-patter of your heart as you went to bed last night, you could fall asleep quite quickly, seeing as you were utterly exhausted from traveling. breakfast this morning feels like you and charles have just been reunited with your childhood friends after being kidnapped for years; not like you had just gone a few weeks without seeing each other. everyone runs around hugging, chatting about how much they've missed each other and how great this trip will be.

"did you get new highlights?" kika asks you, sliding into the seat next to you by the long table as you stuff a piece of bread into your mouth. the room is a combination of a kitchen and a dining hall, with a big cooking area and a glass wall giving the dining area a beautiful view of the mountains outside. in the middle stands a long table with enough seats for all of you, filled with fresh pastries and other breakfast goods to celebrate the first day of the trip. "or is it just the light?"

"just the light," you answer, shooting her a smile as you pick up your cup of coffee.

"oh my god, i almost forgot to ask you," lily starts and places her elbows on the table, her face resting in her hands. "what happened to that guy from raya you were talking to? did you end up going out?"

oscar is sitting a few seats down the table, pretending to be immersed in a conversation with some of the other drivers about the last few races of the season, while actually just doing his best to listen in on the conversation you're having. when he hears alex's girlfriend mention raya, his ears perk up and his breath gets caught in his throat. a million thoughts instantly crash into his mind.

she's seeing someone? how could i not know this? she's on raya? is she actively looking for a partner? who is this guy they're talking about?

he coughs and tries to act normal, shaking off the uncomfortable feeling passing through his body. he soon hears the sweet sound of your wholehearted laughter, and he almost smiles instinctively at it, before he can remind himself that lando's story about las vegas isn't exactly a smiley matter. "you're not going to believe this, i have the best story," you say in-between fits of giggles. "i met up with him for some drinks, and guess what he said? that he has a foot fetish and has dreamed about me caressing his face with my feet." all of the girls squeal and explode with laughter, making some of the boys flinch and look over to see what all the commotion is about. "so, safe to say, we never met up again. and i haven't wanted to go out with anyone else from there, either. i have a feeling they're all just creeps."

"hey, don't lose hope!" kika says while elbowing your side, but her actions are too soft, forcing you to fold over as an uncomfortable feeling spreads through your body. however, a burst of laughter spills past your lips. kika immediately holds her arm back, laughing along. "crap, i'm sorry! i totally forgot how ticklish you are."

you shake your head, your hand landing on her shoulder. "no worries," you tell her. "but, i haven't lost hope. i just don't think my soulmate is lurking around on raya with the foot fetishists."

oscar feels his shoulders relax again, feeling alright with focusing back on the boys' conversation now that he knows you in fact aren't seeing anyone.

maybe he has a shot, after all. as long as he doesn't talk too much about your feet.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 14th, 3:09pm

lando thinks he's so smart.

when he tells oscar to go ask if you'd like to have some of the gingerbread cookies he's bought, it's the third time today he has forced some kind of interaction between the two of you. he is sure that the more time that the two of you spend with each other, the more likely you will be to stop pining and just confess already.

but this time, oscar glares at the brit. "why don't you ask her yourself?"

"because you know what room she's in," lando hums back, reaching into the cupboard with some groceries. "i keep getting lost, the house is too big. plus, i'm busy." he motions to the half-empty grocery bag on the counter.

oscar lets out a sigh, but nods. "how can you memorize all tracks on the calendar, but you get lost in a cabin?" he asks rhetorically, whilst turning around and making his way down the hallway towards your room.

it's not that oscar doesn't enjoy 'accidentally' being forced into talking to you; it's the extreme lack of discretion lando is showing that makes him annoyed. it makes oscar seem like he's the one coming up with silly excuses to talk to you, and he doesn't like how it makes him look. he'd rather be seen as chill, laidback, someone who doesn't force things. he doesn't want you to catch on too early and reject him.

your voice echoes a 'come in' when he knocks on the door to your bedroom, and he pushes the door open just a little to reveal you sitting on the bed, a thick blanket wrapped over your shoulders. a grin spreads across your lips when you make eye contact with him. "hi," you say, placing the book you were reading on the bedside table.

"hey," he answers, stepping inside the room. "i... lando bought some gingerbread cookies, and we were going to make some hot chocolate, and..." his voice trails off as his eyes wander down your body, taking in the christmas sweater you're wearing and the fuzzy socks covering your feet. he smiles absentmindedly at the sight, loving how cozy you seem, and wishing he was sitting right there with you, sharing the blanket.

you nod, understanding him despite his lack of words. "i'll be right there."

oscar gives you a thumbs up – one he then facepalms himself for when he's left your room – before moving towards the kitchen again. but when he walks into it, he sees something hanging from a lamp. he stops in his tracks. "no way..."

festive cookies aren't the only thing lando bought when he went to the local supermarket. he also got the ultimate tool for securing his master plan – a mistletoe.

he doesn't know how, but he's planning to make sure you and oscar meet underneath it at least once before the holidays are over. there's no way you'll both be able to avoid it all week.

of course, lando isn't the only one rooting for the two of you. most of the other drivers know too – how can they not notice the glances you share and the way you light up when someone mentions the other in a conversation? – and most of them are in on his plans. charles is probably the only one in the house who's still oblivious to your and oscar's pining, and lando thinks that he might interfere with the matchmaking if he figures something out, so the brit keeps quiet.

oscar wants to pull the mistletoe down, rip it apart and throw it in the trash, but he refrains. something inside him tells him this might actually work out in his favor – and he decides to trust his gut this time.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 15th, 2:01am

sleeping can be tricky, especially when your brother is snoring loudly in a bed just a few meters away from you.

who even decided to put him and you in the same room?

when you've been tossing and turning to no avail for about an hour, you decide it's time to do something, anything, to hopefully get a little tired again. a glass of warm milk never hurt anyone, did it?

you make your way to the kitchen, pour yourself a glass of milk and put it in the microwave, before turning to look through the windows.

the view of the mountains is breathtaking. there is an untouched, thick layer of snow covering the area, with new flakes still falling. the sun set long ago, but the snow makes it all seem light. the lake below you is just barely visible by now, almost completely coated in snow.

it's completely serene, and you find yourself getting lost in the scenery. however, you're shaken out of your trance when you hear steps behind you. when you turn around, your eyes find someone standing just a few meters away, barely visible in the dark.

you jump in your place and clutch your chest in shock, not expecting anyone else to be up at this hour. when the person steps into the light of the little kitchen lap you had turned on, you relax instantly. "holy shit, oscar," you breathe. "you nearly scared me to death."

"i'm sorry," the australian chuckles. "i didn't know how to approach you without scaring you..."

"what even are you doing up?" you question, crossing your arms over your chest as you lean back against the counter.

"i was just reading in my bed when i heard your door opening, and then footsteps, so..." he trails off when his eyes wander out towards the living room, seemingly just as taken by the sight as you were just moments ago. "i wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"well, everything is okay, so..."

there's some kind of awkwardness hanging in the air. it's not only because of the obvious uncertainty of what to say or do in this situation; it has more to do with the fact that this isn't the first time that the two of you have found yourselves this close with this much tension, all alone at night. sure, it's a lot like the night of your arrival here, but another memory springs to your mind, too.

just under a month ago, following the after-party in abu dhabi, oscar had accompanied you back to the hotel when you started getting too tipsy to keep yourself up on the dance floor. your brother had been nowhere in sight, so oscar took it upon himself to help you out, draping an arm across your waist before walking you all the way to your hotel room. and when you'd arrived in the dimly lit corridor, you'd turned up towards him to thank him, accidentally brushing your nose against his as you did. both of you had broken out in giggles, neither especially sober, but you stayed close – and when the laughter settled, you just watched each other. when his gaze had flickered between your eyes and lips, your breath hitched in your throat, the anticipation growing stronger. you had leaned in even closer, your eyes fluttering closed-

but just as your lips were about to brush his, you had been interrupted. a door a few meters away had opened and the two of you jumped apart, watching as your brother stepped out and exclaimed that he had been wondering where you ended up. oscar had wished you both a good night before hurrying off, the embarrassment of almost getting caught by his friend being too much for him to handle.

you just hoped oscar had been too drunk to remember it, because otherwise, things were bound to get quite awkward. you didn't want him to act differently around you just because you have feelings for him.

thankfully, he hasn't said or done anything to make you think he does remember it.

as you're thinking back to that night in abu dhabi, you nearly get your second heart attack when the microwave goes off with a loud beep. you scramble to turn it off and take out your milk, almost burning yourself on the hot glass in the meantime.

oscar watches you with an amused grin before he forces his gaze off you, eyes wandering over to the windows again. "quite the view, huh?"

you look over your shoulder at the blanketed mountains. "yeah, it's breathtaking," you reply, before growing quiet.

he pauses for a moment, too. "there's something magical about this place. makes everything seem simpler, quieter..."

you nod. "yeah, it does."

something about the moment makes you realize that maybe, just maybe, the awkwardness between you and oscar isn't as insurmountable as you once thought it would be. the shared quietude is comfortable, and you feel at ease. he hasn't brought up abu dhabi – he probably won't, you feel – and maybe you could both just put it behind you and focus on enjoying your trip.

when you eventually get back in your bed, it's with the same kind of pitter-patter of your heart as when you and charles arrived in the cabin a few days ago. needless to say, the glass of warm milk probably isn't going to help.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 16th, 9:02pm

the mistletoe has moved.

when you first noticed it the other day, it was hanging from a kitchen lamp. and now, it's in the doorframe leading into the living room.

you're planning on avoiding it at all costs, not wanting to slip up and accidentally get under it with the wrong person. or the right one, for that matter. the awkwardness of kissing your crush in front of friends and family would be too much to handle.

some others seem to have the exact opposite attitude towards the decoration, though. kika and pierre can be found by it about ten times per day, and alex and lily have no issues sharing a few kisses whenever they "accidentally" pass it.

no matter what, lando has a mischievous grin whenever anyone mentions it, or even walks near it.

his grin stays on when he decides to let himself be in charge of the outing you all have to the christmas tree farm nearby. the farm is too big and would take too long if everyone was going to look at every tree, so lando divides everyone into groups of two based on who they're standing next to as you walk past the gates.

what a coincidence that you're standing right next to oscar when he says this.

lando ushers the two of you off to the rows with quite tall, pre-decorated trees. "so," oscar starts as you both stop in front of a tree with white lights and ornaments hung all over it. "what do you think about this one?"

"well, it's lovely," you say, scanning it thoroughly. "but isn't the true test how well it fits into the living room?"

he nods, despite his confusion, and he shoots a curious glance your way. "and how do we determine that?"

with a playful grin, you hold up an imaginary measuring tape, pretending to size up the tree with a critical eye. "i'm trying to figure out if it fits this corner best, or..."

he follows your gaze, realizing the tease in your words. "i think maybe it's better in the other corner," he hums and points to the side as you turn a little.

"exactly."

lando never inserted himself into a group; he's too focused on watching the two of you share a lighthearted laugh at the situation. though his mistletoe back in the cabin might still have a trick or two up its metaphorical sleeve, he is already proud of his matchmaking antics.

and, he is sure you'll both crack. it is just a matter of time.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 17th, 1:43pm

"i never thought skiing would be this hard," you groan as you step into a cottage, the warmth enveloping you and beginning to defrost you instantly.

oscar laughs at the exasperated tone in your voice. "this was just the kids' slope, you do remember that, right?" you stick your tongue out at him, slumping down on a bench by a table. "you just wait before you do some real skiing..."

you had never skied before today. oscar had, but he said it was too long ago and that he needed an easy start. plus, he couldn't just leave you all alone in the children's slope without an instructor.

you'd fallen over at least five times, despite the fact that the slope was practically flat. thankfully, oscar promised to buy you some hot chocolate in a cottage café to cheer you up.

when he comes back from the cashier carrying two big, steaming cups of chocolate, you've regained most of the feeling in your fingers again. the hot piece of ceramic almost burns your skin, but you think it's worth it; you need the sugar and you need it now.

"you know what the worst thing is?" you ask, bringing the cup up to your face with both hands. you start sipping on the drink and oscar glances at you with a questioning look as he slips down next to you on the bench. "carrying those goddamn skis with me. not only does it suck to actually ski, but dragging them all the way from the rental shop…"

"if it's that much of a bother, i can carry them for you."

"and carry your own too?" you scoff, watching him flinch as he burns his tongue on the drink. "you're not that strong."

he lets out a groan. "you're not even strong enough to carry your own, so you shouldn't say anything."

"i can carry them!" you protest, shooting him a glare. "i just don't want to. two very different things."

you both go silent momentarily, too busy focusing on how good it feels to no longer be frozen to the marrow. the cabin is filled with people; kids running in circles around the tables, soon to be tired again after the initial sugar shock from their afternoon snack; a group of older ladies gossiping and enjoying getting some rest just like you; and some young adults in the far corner are already busy dancing on the tables with their after-ski drinks in their hands.

"you know what? i changed my mind," you tell him, scooting away from him a little and placing your skiing boot on the bench. "these things. they're the worst."

you start to unclasp the boot, sighing in relief as you finally tug the shoe off your foot, throwing it onto the floor. you've only worn it for about an hour, but you can already feel the bruises beginning to form. you're just about to reach down to undo the other boot, too, when oscar reaches towards your foot.

your eyebrows shoot up as he takes it in his hands, pulling the foot into his lap. and then, his fingers begin to wander up and down your foot and ankle, giving you soft squeezes and pressing down on the spaces where he thinks the boot has squeezed you the most. you hold back a pleasured sound, seeing as it would sound way too inappropriate right now, but oscar subconsciously takes note of how you're getting flushed because he soon looks up at your face.

"is this okay?"

you swallow down the lump in your throat, nodding quickly. "y-yeah… just don't tickle me..."

when did things get so intimate? mere minutes ago, you couldn't think about anything other than how you were so cold your nose was going to fall off. but now, you can't stop your eyes from following his long, sleek fingers, thinking about how good they feel and imagining how good they would feel somewhere else-

"give me your other foot."

you're thankful that he interrupts your train of thought before your mind wanders too far.

compose yourself, woman.

"don't tell me you have a foot fetish, too," you tease, turning around so that you can place your other foot on the bench too. he lets out a hearty laugh, swiftly undoing your other boot before letting it drop to the ground.

"oh, shut it. do you want a massage or not?"

you shoot him pout, giving his shoulder a thankful pat before taking your cup in your hands again. you focus on the drink, watching how the steam rises and the marshmallows melt. you can't look over at him anymore, scared of your cheeks growing too red and your face giving away your feelings.

the bell by the door rings behind you, and you look towards it out of habit. and in comes alex, george, lily and carmen, laughing and chatting loudly about the black slope they just went down. oscar doesn't seem to notice, but you hastily pull your feet from his lap, sitting down properly – unfortunately making eye contact with alex as you do. he leans forward to lily, whispering something in her ear, and you watch as her eyes dart to you and a smirk grows on her lips.

shit.

the clicking of her boots against the stone floor meets your ears and oscar turns his head at the sound, suddenly realizing why you withdrew from him. "hey there," lily cheers, each of her hands landing your and oscar's shoulders. "what have you been up to?"

your eyes meet his briefly, before looking back up at lily. "just... drinking some chocolate..."

"oh, no skiing?"

"she crashed too much, i couldn't keep her out there and let her continue to embarrass me all day," oscar tells her and you shove his shoulder.

"do you mind if we join you guys?" george asks, coming around the table and not even giving you a second to think about it before he sets two cups of chocolate down on the table. the grin he's wearing only tells you one thing: alex told him already. carmen's lips show off a matching set.

"not at all..."

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 10:32am

you huff as you slump down on the living room couch, your mood not even getting brought up by watching the newly installed christmas tree in front of you. you hadn't even been out skiing that much yesterday, yet every single inch of your body aches. not only do you have big, blue bruises on both of your hips due to the many times you've fallen onto the hardly packed snow, but every muscle screams with pain as you drape a blanket over your body. needless to say, you decided to stay at home today instead of heading out with the others for another round.

"are you sure you don't wanna come along?" kika asks as she enters the room, her pretty pink sunglasses perched at the top of her nose. the pout on her lips almost makes you doubt staying in, but when you move to sit up more straight again, you know you've made the right decision.

you nod, giving her a weak smile. "yeah, sorry."

"but oscar promised to come along?"

you freeze, your cheeks growing red as you hear her words.

did she know? about your feelings for him? did the others already tell her about the incident in the cottage yesterday? did they really interpret the situation that way?

"w-what?"

"oh," she chuckles at your reaction. "i just meant that he was so bad yesterday, so i thought that seeing him fall over a couple of times would be worth the pain."

"we're gonna trick him into going down a black slope with us," says pierre who walks into the room, arms lacing around his girlfriend from behind. "we'll send some clips."

you let out a breath of relief as they leave the room. maybe they don't know. maybe your secret will stay secret for a little longer.

the group leaves in pairs or trios and you tell them all goodbye from your place underneath the many blankets. everyone has left by now except for oscar, which confounds you since the others seemed to have so many plans for him. your confusion only grows when he steps into the living room without any skiing gear on, just wearing an oversized, cozy hoodie and a pair of sweats.

"why aren't you out with the others?" you question, your eyebrows raised at him.

"well," he sighs, flopping down next to you on the couch. "i can't find my helmet." when you shoot him a doubting look, he raises his hands defensively. "what?"

"i don't believe it."

"you don't have to, but it's the truth."

"how do you even lose a helmet? it's so big?" you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. "i assumed you were used to keeping track of where your helmet is since if you don't have your helmet with you for races, then you can't race."

"i swear i put it on the drawer by the front door like half an hour ago. i don't understand what could've happened."

you have to give it to him; he is really doing his best to cover this up. you find it pretty obvious that he just doesn't want to ski because of what the others were planning to do to him. but maybe if kika and pierre hadn't spilled their plans already, you would've believed him.

"but hey," he says, bringing you out of your thoughts. "don't feel obligated to include me in whatever you were going to do here now that you finally have the house to yourself." he pushes himself off the couch, standing up and shooting you one last smile before turning to walk away. "i'll let you have some peace."

he takes a couple of steps towards the bedrooms, but then you get the idea. "oscar." he stops in his tracks, throwing a glance back at you. "i was planning on doing some baking, and…" you shuffle slightly in your seat. "it wouldn't hurt to have an extra helping hand."

"i'm a horrible baker, though."

"and i'm the best baker ever, so i guess we cancel each other out." you stand up from your seat, keeping the blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you make your way toward the kitchen. "let's go make some mediocre cookies!"

oscar shakes his head, grinning to himself as he follows behind you. this was definitely not what he had planned, but he sure is liking the way it's going.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 8:14pm

oscar had not been kidding when he said he sucked at baking.

he put in twice the needed amount of flour, and only half of the sugar. and as if that wasn't enough, of course the mistletoe had moved to the kitchen, making the whole situation quite uncomfortable as you both had to take strange routes while navigating through the kitchen to avoid it. not even your baking skills could save the cookies.

as an apology, oscar promised to buy some fancy gingerbread cookies tonight at the christmas market you'd all planned to go to in a nearby city. he was strongly set on going through with his promise, despite how many times you told him that it was alright and that they wouldn't taste as good as homemade ones anyway.

you've all been at the market for almost two hours now, but it feels like you've only gone about ten meters. your friends, mainly lando, george and alex, are stopping at every single shop and stand, making sure to check out all products and buying at least one thing in every store, no matter how long the line to the cash register is.

"lando-" you groan at the sight of the brit running into yet another store; this time, a shop filled with christmassy outfits for dogs. "he doesn't even have a pet…"

kika is grinning next to you, shaking her head. "he told me earlier today that he wanted to buy a present for roscoe if he got the chance," she says as most of the group joins lando. "makes more sense than when he bought that screwdriver thirty minutes ago just because it was green."

"the power of 'christmas colors', apparently," you hear oscar's voice from behind you, and you turn back to meet his eyes.

"well, i'm not surprised. just disappointed. and cold, and tired of standing still."

oscar points his head to the side, up the street. "i think i saw a stand a little further up that sells cookies, maybe they have some gingerbread ones."

you nod, a small smile entering your lips. "let's go check it out, then. kika, do you wanna come-"

you're cut off by the sound of pierre calling for his girlfriend, holding up a reindeer costume and blabbering on about how it would be perfect for her cousin's dog. "sorry guys," kika says before strutting off to her boyfriend.

you both shrug before walking down the street towards the stand oscar had spotted. the sugary scent of cookies meets your nose from far away, and your mouth waters at the mere thought of the sweets. when you arrive, a sweet old lady sitting behind the stand greets you and tells you all about the different cookies she's baked. gingerbread, sugar cookies with little candy canes, snowball cookies, and various traditional swiss cookies.

"would you like to have a taste, dears?" the lady asks, pointing her hand to a plate with samples. you and oscar take a gingerbread cookie each, popping it into your mouths.

"oh yeah, this is lovely," he says, looking like he's savoring every crumb.

"much better than ours," you answer, nudging his shoulder with yours. he gasps and places a hand on his chest, feigning offense.

you turn your attention back to the lady and telling her you'd love to buy a little box of cookies from her. oscar pays for them and she wraps the box in some pretty gift paper, handing it to you before you continue making your way down the street. the house walls and all trees are wrapped in christmas lights, some blinking in random colors and some with a soft glow of an elegant white. the streets are filled with people wearing santa hats, ugly christmas sweaters, and scarves so big half of their faces are covered. there's not a single frown in sight, the happiness and love so obvious you can almost see little hearts flowing above everyone's heads.

you glance into a couple of different stores as you stroll, stopping occasionally to check something out. when you reach a stand with different kinds of jewelry, something catches your eye: a golden necklace with a heart-shaped charm hanging from it. you carefully pick it up, your heart fluttering in your chest as you inspect it.

and when you look up at oscar from the necklace in your hands, he feels like the air is stolen from his lungs. your eyes are twinkling with happiness, outshining all lights in the entire christmas market. the excited smile on your lips is contagious, and suddenly, it's like the world around you has stopped and everyone else has disappeared. you're both just grinning at each other like two lovestruck fools, nothing in either of your minds other than the person in front of you. the sight of your rosy cheeks from the cold makes the butterflies in his stomach multiply by the second.

wow, he really is totally and fully whipped.

"really pretty," he finally gets out, unsure if he's talking about the necklace or the woman standing before him.

"pretty? it's gorgeous," you answer, eyes flickering back to the jewelry in your hand. "i adore it. how much is it?"

just as the guy in the booth is about to answer, you feel someone grab your free hand. "come on guys, they're closing down soon and we still have a bunch of shops to visit!" kika is pulling you along so fast you barely have time to put the necklace down.

lily notices the disappointment on your face and pats your shoulder. "we'll come back here sometime before christmas, don't worry."

lando shows you the christmas tree costume he bought as you wander down the market again, but oscar suddenly stops. "guys, i forgot my phone back at the cookie stand. keep walking, i'll catch up with you," he says, pointing behind him with his thumb and disappearing before anyone can say anything.

it's a good excuse, but you clearly see the outline of his phone in his back pocket as he hurries down the street.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 19th, 9:22pm

the days roll on with a gentle rhythm of shared glances and fleeting touches between you and oscar. unbeknownst to both of you, lando, ever the persistent wingman, continues his behind-the-scenes matchmaking efforts.

in some magical way, lando manages to get you and oscar paired up for pretty much anything. board game night? you and oscar just happen to get the exact role cards that make you teammates. time for some ornament decorating? you and oscar are the only ones who don't get a seat on the couch, having to sit on the floor together and share all your materials.

funnily enough, it never gets awkward between the two of you. even when you are left all alone, there is always something to talk about, some dumb thing lando has done that you can tease him about behind his back, or something you are curious about when it comes to his racing career so far. somehow, being with oscar started feeling comfortable, natural, unforced.

one specific night, alex comes up with the idea of playing card games, to which only a few of you are actually interested. some plan on going to bed early so they can hit the slopes first thing in the morning, while others just aren't in the mood. oscar said he would just finish wrapping some christmas presents and join you all later, and you catch yourself feeling disappointed that he's not on the couch next to you, helping you win (or taunting you to make you lose). it surprises you how much you're drawn to him, how it feels like something is missing when he isn't around, when you didn't feel this way just a few days ago.

you try to shake the feeling off, but it's still lingering even as you start playing with your friends. eventually, you excuse yourself to get a glass of water from the kitchen to take your mind off things. but-

just as you round the corner going into the kitchen, your head crashes into something hard. you shriek as you stumble, hands coming up to grab the person in front of you as you lose your balance, but a pair of hands wrap around your back, holding you up. when you look up, you're met with oscar's big brown eyes blinking down at you. "you okay there?"

you let out a relieved breath, nodding at him. "yeah, thanks to you. what were you doing coming around the corner that fast, though?"

he chuckles. "what were you doing not looking where you're going?"

"touché."

your hands are still holding on to the front of his hoodie, and you're about to let go of him and walk away when you notice something in the upper periphery of your vision. something is hanging above you. but, it can't be-

of course it is.

the mistletoe.

oscar looks up just as you do, jaw dropping slightly. "oh..."

"indeed..."

you both keep your vision pointed up, as if the mistletoe would disappear if you just keep on staring at it. oscar's hands slowly begin to slide off your back, and he's hoping you'll both just pretend like none of this ever happened. it would be the least awkward thing to do.

"maybe-" his breath hitches in his throat when you speak up. his gaze is on you again, but you're still looking at the plant. "maybe we should do it. just... for the christmas spirit, you know. i love christmas."

you don't even know what you're blabbering on about. you're trying to improvise a reason to kiss your brother's colleague that makes at least a little sense, but you're completely lost. you realize how dumb you sound, and you expect to see him staring at you like you actually are insane when you look back at him.

but what you don't know is that he thinks it's the best idea ever. he is just as into it as you are, if not more. he doesn't look at you like you're crazy; he's just dumbfounded, blinking at you as he tries to understand what's happening. did the girl he likes really just say they should kiss? because she loves christmas?

oscar gulps, but something in him gives him the courage to nod. "i mean," he starts, voice weak. "what's the harm? it's just... tradition."

"right. yeah, that's exactly what i was thinking."

the tension is higher than ever as your faces are already just inches apart. you aren't sure who should take the initiative and lean in, but before you can overthink it, you're both doing it subconsciously. your noses brush against each other briefly and a little giggle escapes past your lips, and this whole situation feels very familiar. this time, oscar can't hold back anymore, so he closes the gap and presses his mouth to yours.

the kiss is quick, not much longer than a peck, but something changes inside you. when you didn't know what it felt like to kiss oscar, you didn't think too much about it. but now that you have felt his lips on yours, you crave it.

he seems to feel the same way, because when you kiss him again, he's pressing against you instantly. your hands move from his chest to his shoulders as your lips move in sync, tilting your head to get a better angle. oscar's touch travels up and down your sides, fingers grazing the bare skin of your stomach when your sweater lifts.

oscar takes your bottom lip in between his teeth and you let out a hum, making him grin into the kiss. his tongue swipes between your lips before slipping into your mouth, exploring it for the first, but hopefully not last, time. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, already growing hot as his hands move down to your butt.

kissing oscar is so easy, so comfortable. it's like you've done it so many times before, like it's what you were made to do.

you're so relaxed and so focused on the kiss that you don't even hear lando's footsteps right next to you, nor his snicker from a few meters away as he picks up his phone to snap a couple of pictures. you don't even hear him strutting away to the living room, nor his loud proclamation to the group: mission complete.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 8:35am

the rest of the days leading up to christmas consist of a lot of sneaking around.

the days are filled with secretive kisses when you're sure no one is watching, fleeting pecks or longer liplocks, hurriedly parting and acting like nothing happened when you hear approaching footsteps. they're filled with soft brushes as you pass each other in hallways, little squeezes of your waist or his arm when someone is around, conveying more than anyone could guess. and they're filled with giant, knowing smiles matching on your lips, with longing gazes and sly winks across the dinner table.

now, his hand is warm in yours despite the freezing temperatures of the air. when you said you forgot your mittens in the cabin, oscar had just smiled, taking off one of his own to give it to you. and to heat your other hand, he intertwined his fingers with yours, his thumb stroking the back of your hand as you walked.

you'd slipped out of the house before anyone else had woken up, wishing for a peaceful moment for yourselves. the two of you haven't really had time to properly talk ever since your moment under the mistletoe, and even though it wasn't outspoken, you both knew there were things to be discussed.

you're halfway around the lake when he finally touches on the subject. "so..." he starts, nudging your shoulder with his. "you like me, huh?"

you snicker. "i have for quite some time now, actually."

his hand squeezes yours. "tell me about it."

and when he asks, you tell.

you tell him about seeing him all those years ago, thinking that he was just a pretty face, a good driver, and not much else. you tell him about getting to know him more and more in the last two years and realizing that shit, he's so much more than that. you tell him about the butterflies, about the sneaky glances, about falling for him.

and then, he tells you his side.

he tells you about knowing of you from your first appearances in the f1 paddock, the curiosity in him growing for every picture of you and charles he saw. he tells you about wanting to approach you but not knowing how, not wanting to come off too strong or clingy. he tells you about how nothing has ever been more disappointing to him than charles's timing back in abu dhabi. then, he tells you about how his fingers had secretly been crossed all trip, hoping that lando's attempts to pair the two of you up wouldn't fall through.

you share giggles and smiles as you tell your stories, and it all feels so natural even though it's so new. and you think to yourself that maybe, this won't be so hard to get used to.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 5:46pm

"how are things going with oscar?"

lily's voice makes your heart skip a beat. you had just walked into the kitchen to grab a gingerbread cookie, not expecting her to be doing the dishes this late in the evening – and especially not expecting her to ask you something like that. "what do you mean?" you ask back, trying to stay composed as you strut over to the cupboard, reaching into it for the box of cookies.

"are you going to be like... boyfriend and girlfriend now?"

the box slips out of your hands and crashes to the floor before you can catch it again. did you hear her correctly? your eyebrows shoot up and your mouth hangs open as you look at her again. she scoffs.

"oh please, the two of you aren't exactly sneaky," she says, looking back into the sink. "you know, lando took pictures of you under the mistletoe. and we all saw you coming back from your little trip to the lake earlier today."

"oh my god." you cover your face with your hands, letting out a groan. "oh my god. no way."

lily laughs, washing the last few plates under the tap before placing them on the side to drain. "don't worry, we were all in on it."

"and what does that mean?!"

"lando had a plan." of course he did. "we all agreed to help him out. except charles, he's still oblivious."

"what kind of plan?"

"well, just small things here and there, really." she wipes her hands on a towel before turning around and leaning against the counter. "hiding oscar's helmet so he'd have to stay here with you instead of skiing with us. walking really slowly in the market so you'd both get so tired of us that you'd stroll off alone. and the mistletoe, but that's obvious..."

as lily spills the details of lando's plan, you feel a mix of embarrassment and surprise, along with a hint of amusement. you're suddenly very aware of the collaboration that has taken place behind the scenes, and you take a deep breath as you slowly lower your hands from your face.

"so... lando really orchestrated all of this?" you exclaim, still trying to process the fact that your friends have been actively working to bring you and oscar closer together.

lily chuckles, nodding. "yes, and he's been loving every moment of it. we all figured you two needed a little push."

you shake your head in disbelief, a smile playing on your lips despite the initial shock. "what's the endgame here? is lando secretly a matchmaker or something?"

"he wishes," she says with a smirk. "i think he just enjoys playing cupid when he can." she shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest. "but hey, it worked out well, didn't it? you and oscar seem pretty cozy."

"yeah, i guess..." the mention of oscar brings a blush to your cheeks. "i just didn't expect to have a whole team of co-conspirators."

lily laughs, stepping forward to pat your shoulder. "it's all in good fun. besides, it's about time something happened between you two." you nod in agreement, smiling at her. "now, spill. how are you feeling about all of this? is he boyfriend material?"

you hesitate for a moment, contemplating your newfound dynamic with oscar. a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "yeah, maybe. we're figuring it out, i guess. it's all been... surprisingly nice."

she grins, satisfied with your response. "well, then, i'd say lando's plan was a success." she backs away, walking towards the kitchen exit. "just enjoy it, okay? and don't be too mad at us. we just wanted to see you both happy."

you nod and watch as she leaves, still processing the directed events that have led up to this moment. as you're left alone, you can't help but smile to yourself at the thought of everything that's happened – and everything that's yet to come.

suddenly, for the first time in your life, you feel thankful for something lando has done. you'll have to remember to thank him later.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 24th, 10:23pm

just a few hours ago, charles was challenged to a snowball fight with the rest of the twitch quartet. and how could he ever say no to them?

for you to fall asleep before he got back would just be stupid, because there's no way he will be able to keep quiet when he eventually he crashes into the room post-fight. so instead, you sit against the headboard of your bed, a thick blanket draped over your body and a good book in your hands as you enjoy the tranquility of the last few moments of christmas eve.

there's a soft knock on the door, one so low you could've just as well missed it. "come in," you call out, looking up from your book as the door creaks open. surprise paints your face as oscar enters the room, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of carrying out a secret mission.

in his hands, oscar holds a beautifully wrapped box, adorned with a crimson bow. "merry christmas."

"oscar, what are you up to?" you ask, laughter dancing in your eyes.

"giving you your present." he sits at your feet, holding out the present to you.

you place your book beside you on the bed, accepting the gift with a curious smile. you unwrap the present, and as you remove the lid of the box and your eyes are met with a necklace, your breath hitches in your throat.

the heart-shaped pendant is familiar – it's the exact necklace you'd eyed in the christmas market. you look up at oscar, a myriad of emotions playing on your face. "i didn't forget my phone," he admits, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. "i just really wanted to get it for you."

speechless, you delicately trace the edges of the pendant with your fingers. "oscar, i..."

"it's a christmas gift, but you can wear it whenever you want."

you hold the necklace up to him. "like now?"

he nods and takes it from you as you turn around, brushing away your hair so that he can secure the chain around your neck. when you turn back, you catch the glint of admiration in his eyes. "you look beautiful."

you hold the pendant between your thumb and pointer finger, a silent acknowledgment of the connection formed by the gift. "it's perfect, oscar. thank you." you tilt your head, smiling at him. "you're not getting your gift until tomorrow, though."

"just seeing you with this necklace is enough of a present for me. i don't need anything else."

‎‎ ‎‎‎

december 25th, 6:04pm

christmas day morning is for gift exchanges. you all sit around the tree in the living room, giving out presents and sharing the background stories behind the silly little things you've bought each other. you receive a ton of random objects that people had bought that day in the christmas market; objects they bought just to irritate you and oscar. now that you know, you find it quite funny – and seeing charles's confused face as you unwrapped a green screwdriver from lando is definitely one of your highlights of the day.

your present to oscar is, obviously, better planned than most other gifts. beneath the wrapper is a box titled "skiing survival kit" written in big, red letters. in it lies a pair of thick socks (with a note reading "to protect your feet from those horrible boots"), a bag of hot chocolate mix ("for moments when skiing feels too challenging; a little warmth to make everything better"), a bottle of peppermint-scented massaging oil ("you never know when you find yourself in need of a massage..."), and a handwritten letter about how you enjoyed your stay in the cottage much more than the actual skiing and a promise to stay in and warm his chair for him next time he's out "skiing".

then, midday rolls around. the chefs of the group, also known as the few people who don't burn everything they attempt to cook, take their time to make a good dinner. in the meantime, the rest of you prepare some games and competitions, including a trivia, a snow fort building competition, and a gingerbread house-decorating contest that ended in lando letting his competitiveness get the best of him. safe to say that no other gingerbread houses were still standing, other than lando's, meaning the brit won by default. his price: getting thrown in the snow in just his pyjamas.

and the evening? it's dedicated to a movie marathon, as per russell family traditions.

it has all been planned into the finest detail; the couch in the living room is decorated with blankets and pillows, nearly every bowl in the house is filled to the brim with snacks, and mattresses and pillows on the floor for those who don't fit on the couch. everyone was included of the vote of what movie you were going to see, though you had a feeling george had cheated when you were told the 'home alone' series won. especially since it's the one series he hasn't been able to stop talking about wanting to watch all trip.

you're settled on the edge of the couch, a blanket wrapped over your shoulders and your knees pulled up to your chest. you're laughing along with something kika has said from right next to you when you hear a beep from the kitchen, indicating that the last bag of popcorn was ready. you assumed lando would be getting up to fetch it, seeing as he was the one who insisted you needed one more bag, but when your eyes find him, he sits very contently and comfortably a few seats away. he looks back at you, eyebrows rising as you make eye contact.

"hey, you're the closest to the kitchen," he says, nodding his head in your direction. "go get them."

he isn't wrong, but he still makes no sense. "no way, norris."

he pouts. "please, be quick so we can start the movie already."

"you suck."

he sticks out his tongue at you but you've already walked off. when you return, a new bowl filled with popcorn in your arms, you aren't exactly surprised to see lando in the seat that used to be yours. you shoot him a glare, to which he answers, "i could barely see the tv from where i was sitting!"

"oh, but you think i'll be able to?" you scoff at the way he shrugs his shoulders, seemingly to say that it's now none of his business. and when you look at his old seat, you are even less surprised to see who's sitting right next to it.

oscar is looking up at you, confusion mixing into his features. he's been scrolling on his phone for the last few minutes and didn't notice when his teammate left him alone.

neither of you complain when you slip into lando's old spot, though. oscar immediately grabs the blanket in his lap and drapes it over you too. you shuffle closer to him as the movie turns on, the soft fabric of his pyjama pants brushing against yours. the bowl of popcorn is propped up on your lap, and when you reach into it to grab a handful, it touches something warm. you rip your eyes from the tv to see your hand brushing against oscar's. of course.

considering the other touches and kisses you've shared these last few days, it's not even a very intimate action. and yet, something about it leaves both of you giggling.

"so many clichés this trip, huh?" he says, eyes flickering between your hands and your face.

instead of answering, you grab his hand in yours. your fingers slip in between his easily, as they've done so many times these last few days, but you pull your hands underneath the blanket to keep them out of sight from everyone else.

it's a good movie, but it's easy for you to zone out when you feel oscar's hand squeeze yours. neither of you can really stay away from the other, inching closer as the movie progresses and stealing little cheek kisses when everyone is focused on the most exciting scenes. and when you start to grow a little tired, your head instinctively lands on his shoulder as you let out a little yawn. oscar desperately has to hold himself back from cooing at you, feeling so soft and prideful that you're leaning on him, and he settles for leaning his own head on you.

you both think you're being subtle, but everyone in the room understands what's going on. even charles, who has now been let in on what's happened between you and oscar after he walked in on lando telling alex about how cute the new couple in the house looked walking around the lake, can't take his eyes off the two of you. as your older brother, he feels like he should be doing something or saying something to protect you. he wonders what his role should be here – aren't brothers supposed to scare their sisters' boyfriends away?

but charles realizes that oscar isn't an enemy. in this moment, you look so peaceful, so content; like you've found the the long-lost puzzle piece to make you complete. how could he possibly interrupt that?

‎‎ ‎‎

december 25th, 11:28pm

charles is still fast asleep on the couch when you slip into oscar's room after the movie has ended, fingers intertwined and your laughter mixing as he pulls you along to his bed. his hands find your hips as he sits down on the edge of the bed, urging you to lower yourself onto his lap, and you happily oblige.

"look up," he says, and when you do, you're not surprised by what's hanging in the roof.

the mistletoe.

"oh," you start, looking back at him. last time you found yourself underneath the mistletoe with oscar, you had been more nervous than ever before. but this time, it isn't as scary. this time, you're able to shrug, a teasing grin forming on your lips. "i guess we should kiss, then. just for the christmas spirit, you know."

his lips are curved into a big smile. "oh, i do know." one of his hands comes up to tuck some hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek in his palm. "it's because you love christmas."

you can't hold back from giggling, and neither can he, both of you leaning in to seal your lips. your first encounter underneath the mistletoe was hesitant, but it feels like that was ages ago, in another lifetime. now, with his lips pressing against yours, it feels like it's all you've known.

he's so gentle with it, his kisses delicate and tender, and your heart flutters at the feeling. his hands land on your waist as your arms wrap around his neck, scooting in even closer. when your crotch brushes against him, he involuntarily lets out a moan into your mouth, and you stop for a moment to pull away. both your eyes and his are wide as you look at each other, and oscar doesn't know what to say. his mind is racing, not sure if you thought that was awkward or too soon or-

"that's so fucking hot," you say, and he finally exhales. you kiss him again, speaking against his lips. "wanna hear more."

he has no problems letting out more sounds when you keep up your actions, your hips rolling down on him rhythmically. his hands find the hem of your sweater and slip inside, instantly roaming your sides. his cold touch tickles, and when his fingers move along your waist, you can't help but giggle against his lips. he laughs along with you, but he only does it to match you. he's dumbfounded when you part from him and you grab his wrists to make him halt.

"you're too cold," you start, a bit breathless already. "it's-"

"are you really that ticklish?" he chuckles, fingers running up and down your sides again to test you, and his heart melts when you throw your head back, laughing. "oh come on, how am i supposed to do this if i can't touch you?"

"warm your fingers next time and we should be fine."

"next time, huh?" a combination of a smirk and a grin plays on his lips. "planning ahead?"

"well, it depends on how well you perform tonight." he sticks out his tongue at your taunting tone. "just take it off already, will you?"

oscar happily obliges, pulling the material off you before reaching for his own sweater, throwing them both onto the floor. his eyes stick to your chest, to the soft, red bed bra holding up your breasts, and he feels himself growing harder instantly, because this is so much better than he'd imagined. you can't exactly complain about what your eyes are met with, either; oscar's toned chest and his broad shoulders are basically calling out for you to come and press your lips to them. or sink your teeth in them. probably both.

he gives you a few quick kisses before his hands land on your hips and he flips you both around, laying you onto the covers. his lips meet the skin below your ear, and then travel down the side of your neck. he hears your breath hitch in your throat when he finds a spot you enjoy particularly much, making sure to memorize it for the future. and when his kisses trail even further down, they meet something hard and metallic. when he leans back, he realizes that you're wearing the necklace.

he didn't notice it until now, since he was too busy being mesmerized by your breasts earlier; but now, he can't take his eyes off it. the little heart charm rests just above your actual heart, and something about seeing it makes his heart flutter. the necklace he bought for you, the one that makes you think of him and only him. it's like you're already tagged as his.

"cute," he whispers to himself, placing a long kiss right on top of the heart. he can feel your real heart beating underneath his lips, fast but not really enough, and he can't wait to make you feel like it's pounding out of your chest.

he starts placing open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, his hands finding the waistband of your sweatpants.

"you okay with me taking these off?" he asks, parting from your skin to watch you nod your head. he pulls the material down your body, smiling when your underwear comes into sight. they're not a pair of lacy lingerie or victoria's secret-lookalikes, but just a regular pair of panties in a deep green color with little candy canes. his eyes flicker between your bra and your panties. "green and red, huh?"

"well, what can i say?" you smile. "i love christmas." he giggles, and so do you, as he leaves your pants somewhere on the floor before moving further down your body. when his hands near the fuzzy socks with little cartoon santas dressing your feet, you're quick to speak. "those stay on, though."

"oh, is that so?"

"gotta make sure you're not just doing this for that foot fetish you might or might not have." a laughter erupts from his chest. "i've had too much of that recently."

"well, i don't have one, so i don't mind you keeping them on." he moves up on the bed again, fingers reaching the hem of your underwear. "but i can take these off, right?"

"things would get kinda tricky otherwise, i'd say,” you tease, but oscar merely blinks up at you with raised eyebrows.

"tricky, yes. but not impossible."

you shake your head, a grin making its way onto your lips. "next time, oscar."

and there it is again. next time. the way you say it so casually, like there's no doubt in your mind that there will be another time, that you'll do all of this again.

yet again, instant boner.

your panties are off in a second, and he doesn't waste any time before pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh. his hand takes care of your other thigh, thumb brushing up and down your skin, as your lips travel closer and closer to where you want him the most.

you suck in a breath when you feel his warm breath against your core. his tongue meets your clit and your eyes flutter closed, one of your hands reaching down to entangle in his hair. as his tongue draws circles around your bud, one of his hands leaves your thigh, a finger swiping along your wet folds before pushing slowly into you. you don't know which sensation to focus on, both growing stronger and pushing you closer to your limit every passing second. when he's pumped you a couple of times, he adds another finger and then another, pushing deep into you. his fingers curling inside of you makes you pull on his hair even harder, your mind growing hazy and your breaths shorter.

"o-oscar," you let out, subconsciously buckling your hips towards him in hopes of creating more friction. "i'm so clos-"

you're cut off by the combination of a moan and a whine that leaves your lips when his tongue flicking your clit speeds up. "come for me, sweetheart," he tells you, his voice sending vibrations against your core.

your legs shake around him as you completely let go, feeling the climax wash over you just moments after his order. your free arm drapes over your face, covering your eyes in your arm as you try to catch your breath. oscar continues lapping you up, helping you ride it out, also licking his fingers clean before letting his hands caress your sides soothingly. he's unsure whether his fingers are warm enough now to not tickle you, or if you're just too busy coming down from your high to even realize you should feel ticklish, but he smiles at the thought nonetheless.

"everything alright up here?" oscar asks as he moves up to your face again, one of his hands prying the arm off your face. you slowly open your eyes, your hazy gaze meeting his loving one and you can't help but to cup his face in your hands. you pull him down to your lips, lazily lacing them together. he pulls away just enough for his lips to still brush yours when he speaks. "i'll take that as a yes."

you're quick to nod, but even quicker to connect his lips with yours again, not wanting to be apart for even a second.

your hands slide down his neck and the front of his body, loving the feeling of his strong muscles under your touch. your fingers reach down to the edge of his pajama pants, and you let out a chuckle when you notice the ever-growing tent in them. "don't laugh at me," he starts, biting down on your bottom lip as a warning. "you're so hot, how could i not get this hard?"

"oh, shut it," you say, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. "just take them off, will you?"

"as you wish."

as he shuffles off the bed and pulls off his own pants, plus his boxers along with them, you take the time to reach behind you and unclasp your bra, letting it slide down your arms and off the bed. when he reaches into the bedside table and pulls out a condom, you raise your eyebrows. "oh, so you were planning this?"

he shakes his head as he climbs on top of you again. "i was hoping, not expecting. those are two very different things." he removes the wrapper and throws it onto the table, rolling the condom onto himself. "do you need anything? or-"

"just you."

oscar presses his smile to yours, kissing you like he has no rush in the world, like he just wants to savor this moment with you. "well then," he says against your lips, nudging his dick against your entrance. "i have to give the lady what she wants, don't i?"

you can't control the whine that slips into his mouth when he pushes into you. you thought you were ready for him, but he's so big and he stretches you out so perfectly. he pauses once he's slipped entirely into you, his lips finding a spot below your ear as he allows you to get used to him. your pussy is throbbing already, still sensitive from just minutes ago, and the little involuntary clenches around him make oscar grow more and more eager.

when he finally starts moving, you drape your arms around his shoulders for stability. his thrusts are slow but deep, and yet you desperately want more of him. you hook a leg over his hip, the other following soon after, and you gasp at the way he bottoms you out completely. one of his hands comes up to squeeze your breast, thumb flicking over the nipple as his pace speeds up. the sounds you make and the way your legs squeeze him close makes him feel like he could cum anytime, but he tries to hold back because he needs to see you fall apart beneath him for the second time tonight.

"oscar..." you cry out when his free hand slides down your body, a finger coming in contact with your clit again.

"just a little more, love." his thrusts have grown sloppy and his figures on your bud aren't exactly perfect, but it's good enough for your orgasm to hit.

your back arches off the bed, your chest pressing into his as you nuzzle your face into the side of his neck to hide your moans. when your walls tighten around him, he reaches his high too, his body shaking as he rides it out. your heart is about ready to jump out of your chest when he collapses onto you, both of you trying to catch your breaths. "holy fuck," oscar starts, his breath warm on your skin. "that was amazing. you feel amazing." you try to gather energy to speak, fingers getting lost in his curls. "you taste amazing, too. better than any christmas dinner."

you give him a weak slap to his shoulder. "shush."

"it's true!" he pushes himself back a bit, mouth hanging in mock offense. "this was the best present i could've ever wished for."

"the necklace is higher on my list, though."

oscar pauses for a moment. "i'm not sure if i should feel proud or offended."

you snicker. "i was hoping for the latter," you tease, but regret it the moment oscar's hands find your waist, fingers dancing along it and tickling you yet again. the squeal you let out does nothing to halt his actions, and he doesn't even budge when you try to push him away by his shoulders. "i was kidding!"

"apologize. now."

his fingers still working their way on your skin make it almost impossible for you to speak again, but you do your best to take a deep breath. "i'm- i'm sorry! oscar- stop it!"

he finally stops, and you finally get to breathe. "i'll go get a wet towel," oscar says, pulling away from you and giving you one last glance. he almost doesn't leave the bed when he looks at you, though – he finds the sight almost too good to be true. your rosy cheeks, the dreamy smile on your lips, your hair spread out on the pillows. he's scared that if he leaves you, maybe the spell will be broken and he'll realize all of this has just been a dream. because that's just how this all feels: surreal.

but it is real, and he can't wait to have you like this in his bed again.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 26th, 12:56pm

packing up after a good trip is always a bittersweet affair. realizing that you have the real world waiting for you, your actual lives with responsibilities and obligations, and that you can't just stay in this fairytale forever – this moment was definitely not something you looked forward to.

you and charles need to get back to monaco to celebrate christmas with your other brothers and your mother, before he needs to go away for pre-season work again. you're meticulously folding up your clothes, zipping up bags and exchanging smiles as you reminisce on memories of the week.

but, things are different this time. you know that the magic of this trip isn't going to stay here – in one way or another, you'll bring some of it with you back to your real life.

oscar.

you've already made plans to meet up after new years, and even when he's busy with work, you know that you'll at least see him during every race weekend. neither of you are ever more than a flight, or a call, away, and you just can't wait to see where this all takes you.

"so... oscar, huh?" charles's voice breaks the silence, his eyes glancing in the direction of your open door that lets in the sound of oscar's voice from the living room.

"hm? what about him?" you reply, trying to hold back the smile threatening to adorn your lips when you hear his name.

charles cocks an eyebrow at you. "you and him... kind of obvious." he gazes towards your bed. "besides, your bed is made. you didn't sleep here last night."

"well, i-" you start, but charles interrupts with a knowing chuckle.

"relax, i'm not going to be a police. just..." he shows off a sweet smile. "enjoy it."

with a nod and a shared understanding, you both continue packing, an unspoken acknowledgment hanging in the air. the group gathers to bid you farewell by the front door, and gratitude fills your heart as you exchange goodbyes with your friends. you grow especially soft when lando pulls you into a hug, a cheeky grin on his lips. "thank you," you whisper, giving his cheek a quick peck to really convey how much you appreciate everything he's done this holiday. he just squeezes you back, telling you not to worry about it.

finally, as you turn to say your farewell to oscar, the atmosphere shifts and the group watches with amused anticipation. "until next time," you say, your eyes holding a promise that transcends the physical distance.

"until next time," he repeats, smiling as you engulf him in a tight hug.

you pull away just enough for your ear to brush against his ear, your voice low. "charles knows, by the way."

"w-what?" his eyes widen for a moment, flickering between you and your brother – but then realization dawns. "well, in that case..."

before you can react, oscar pulls you closer again. he presses a goodbye-kiss on your lips, right there in front of everyone, and the group erupts into cheers.

and the loudest of them all? lando, of course. "if i'm not the best man at your wedding, i'll never forgive you guys."

1K notes · View notes

youkissedareaderinthedark · 5 months

Text

Sunshine

Synopsis: You are the youngest and only daughter of the Leclerc family, and no matter how much he tries to hide it, Charles can’t deny you’re his favorite

monegasque female leclerc reader x brother charles leclerc

A/N: let’s say that y/n was born in 2006, making her about 17 now, 15 years younnger younger than lorenzo, 9 years younger than charles, and 6 younger than arthur

. so

. pascale leclerc has always wanted a daughter

. a little girl she could love and spoil with all her heart

. don’t get me wrong, she loves her sons with all of her being

. but i’d be lying if i said she’s never wished for another girl in the house

. the rest of the leclercs know this

. so it wasn’t a big suprise when she told everyone that she was pregnant in 2005

. and nearly cried of happiness when she learned she was carrying a baby girl

. now at first

. 8 year old charles leclerc didn’t know how he felt about this

. because he already has 5 year old arthur following him around everywhere

. what would it be like with another sibling in the house?

. so he wasn’t entirely thrilled at first

. but the second pascale and herve brought you home from the hospital a few months later

. he knew he’d love you no matter what

. his friends at school constantly talk about how annoying their baby sisters are

. but charles is always more endeared with you rather than annoyed

. he would play and watch kid shows with you for days on end if that’s what you wanted

. would be lying if he said he’s never played pretend with you

. repeatedly asked for pascale to allow you to come to his karting races

. something that didn’t happen until you were 3

. shows you off to all of his friends at said races

. “you see that baby over there with my maman? that’s my sister, y/n”

. “she doesn’t really know what’s going on, but she always cheers for me anyway”

. charles makes sure he’s there for every milestone in your life

. first day of school

. the first time you drove a kart

. when you learned how to ride a bike

. etcetera

. it does get harder as the years go on, with his karting career continuing and everything

. but your brother makes sure he’s there for you

. because no matter how busy he gets

. he’s never too occupied to see you discover yourself

. finding your own personality and hobbies

. interests and dislikes

. this has all happened by the time you’re 9 years old

. nearing the end of your childhood but still enjoying it nonethless

. pascale even lets you follow charles to formula 1 races, because she knows he’s really following jules bianchi

. your older brother loves when you come with him to races

. but he wishes more than anything your mother made you stay home with her instead of going to suzuka with him

. because he knows you love jules

. he’s like another brother to you

. he’s always the one to have you sitting on top of his shoulders, doing anything to help you see more than the world you were given (both literally and figuratively)

. jules was the one who gave you his kart to practice with

. the one that taught you everything you know about cars

. the one that taught you to always dream for more

. the one that taught you what grief felt like

. charles remembers the moment it happened, the crash, the noise, the shock

. the way you looked up at him, your 9 year old self not old enough to realize what just happened

. “charlie, what happened? where’s jules?”

. he remembers how much you cried in the hospital, looking way too young to be sitting in those waiting room chairs and losing one of the people you loved the most

. he remembers hearing you sob in your room when you got home, how helpless he felt that he couldn’t do anything to stop his own emotions, nonetheless his baby sisters’

. he remembers how instead of driving the kart jules left you, most of the time you just sat in front of it, staring at it, wishing jules would come outside like he always would, and persuade pascale to let you two drive around for just a few more hours

. arthur was the one who looked out for you in these times, because charles was too busy either being looked after by lorenzo, or trying to drive his own feelings away in formula championships

. 2015 was a sorrowful year in the leclerc household

. so it makes sense that charles is happy when you start to show some progress in late 2016

. when you start to drive your kart again, improved by the JB17 stickers you start to put everywhere

. you start enjoying school again, hanging out with your friends and playing outside

. it almost gives him hope

. almost

. because by 2017, charles is nervous

. because herve is getting worse

. and charles knows his litter sister, you’re not stupid

. you can tell that your father is sick, and he’s not going to be get better

. he tries to subtly encourage you to spend more time with him

. makes sure you tell him all your stories from school, tell him what you want to be when you’re older and what you want to do

. soon enough though, you can’t do these things because your father was emitted into the hospital

. charles is nearly twenty now, he’s old enough for his mother to give him the truth about these sorts of things

. but still not old enough to tell his eleven year old sister the truth

. the whole family is there with herve in the hospital in june 2017

. none of them are ready to lose another one of their own again

. you’re sobbing, arthur’s arms wrapped around you and hand pushing your head into his neck because he know you shouldn’t have to see this

. lorenzo is the only thing keeping both his mother and first younger brother standing, all while trying to keep his own tears from blurring his vision

. this time, you don’t let anybody help you

. you never leave your room, only to go to school and to eat

. you stopped karting completely, not wanting to unless your father was standing on the front porch, cheering you on and giving advice from where he stood

. you don’t come to either arthur’s or charles’ races, not the one charles wins after herve dies, not the ones he continues to win after that

. the family almost forgets what your smile looks like, they only remember the faint sound of your cries at night

. charles beats himself up over it, feels guilty and helpless

. he couldn’t stop jules from crashing, couldn’t stop his father from getting sick, and can’t even protect his younger sister from losing herself

. he tries his hardest to be there for you, to hug you, tell you he loves you, and that he’s always there if you want to talk

. he waits as long as it takes for you to open up to him

. it comes eventually, the day you knock on his bedroom door and let yourself talk and cry in his arms

. it takes much longer for you to co-exist with your grief this time

. but charles is there for every step of the way

. you go to his first formula 1 race with him in 2018, cheer him on from the sauber garage with lorenzo and pascale no matter what position he comes in

. you hang out with arthur while he’s racing in formula e and formula 4, cheer for him just as loudly, if not louder than you would for charles

. you’re 12 by the time 2018 ends, but feel much older than you actually are

. this is the point where you and charles bond on a deeper level

. because whereas the rest of the world just sees you as a tweleve-year-old girl

. charles see you as a twelve-year-old girl who’s been through more than she should’ve, and now feels the emotions to match

. so as time continues to pass, you guys talk about the real stuff in your lives

. he talks about joining ferrari and what it feels like to do what jules had always wanted to

. what it felt like lying to your father about the ferrari contract and how he wonders what herve thinks about it now

. you talk about what it feels like going through life without a father

. what it feels like fearing for your brothers’ lives every time they get into their cars

. he tries to help you get over this fear by bringing you to the paddock with him

. which includes becoming friends with andrea after all the hours you two spend side by side in the ferrari garage

. meeting sebastian who instantly becomes a mentor to you

. you’ve known pierre for longer than you can remember, so you hang out in his team garage sometimes

. your brother tries to keep an eye on you while your in the paddock, but as you get older, the more freedom you have

. by the time you’re 15 in 2021, you roam around the paddock on your own free will

. with carlos joining ferrari, you hang out with his younger sister ana, who leads you on all sorts of adventures in whatever city you two are in that weekend

. meeting all sorts of celebrities while you’re walking down the pit lane on sundays

. spending time in the aston martin hospitality because you’re still close with seb

. passing time with lewis in the mercedes garage, he sheds some of his wisdom on you, you tell him all the drama in your life

. bothering pierre while simultaneously befriending yuki in the alpha tauri garage

. and of course, hanging out with charles in the rare moments when you both have nothing do to

. these are the antics that carry on throughout your late teenage years

. so by the time the end of 2023 rolls around, you’re close to graduating school and moving on to whatever you wish to pursue

. it’s in those moments, the ones where you’re talking about college and moving away and your career

. truly makes him realize that you’re growing up

. and you’re not the little girl that will always be there to cheer him on from the stands

. you assure him that you will though

. that wherever you end up, still in monaco or not

. you’ll always be rooting for him

. and he knows he’ll always be rooting for you too

. because you’re his little sister

. and he loves you more than you know

#reader insert #formula 1 #f1 grid x reader #formula 1 driver imagines #platonic f1 grid #f1 2023 grid x y/n #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #older brother charles leclerc #sibling fic #leclerc!reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x sister!reader

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thebibliosphere · 7 months

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From what I've seen, I think the Batkids would like your book.

Hunger Pangs? You flatter me.

But also, yes thank you for this particular strain on self-indulgent brain rot. I am going to be absolutely abnormal about this.

I’d like to imagine Dick picks it up at an airport somewhere on his way back from a trip and becomes hooked on the “clever, pretty, jumps-from balconies-for-the-thrill-of-the-fall vampire and goes, “oh, same.”

The fact that it’s got a rugged, soldiery werewolf with a heart of gold who enforces self-care as a form of kink-play is also doing stuff to his brain. (That’s a thing? He can… he can ask someone for that? Who does he ask for that? It’s been weeks since he slept more than a few hours and ate more than cereal for dinner. Seriously, who does he ask? How much is it? He’s got money. He’ll pay.) The uh, the need for validation and the budding praise kink is also hitting a little too close to home.

As is “all powerful witch with the power to pick you up with her mind and throw you around like a rag doll.” (LiStEN, he spent a large chunk of his formative years surrounded by tight spandex suits, villains with sexy mind control pollen and getting kidnapped and tied up every other week. It’s not his fault he’s Like This.)

He’s not mad about it, though.

Babs catches him re-reading it during downtime. She’s not even that interested, more asking what it is to be polite, but the way Dick jumps and turns red, like he didn’t even realize she was in the room is… intriguing.

“I can see why you like it,” she says, several days later, casually drinking her coffee while Dick stares straight ahead, willing the floor to open up and swallow him whole. “Magic, politics. Saving the world from certain doom with the power of knowledge and ecological preservation.” She glances sideways at him. “Vlad’s got some interesting quirks.”

“Shut up.”

“Are we sure you’ve not been compromised?”

“Babs, I mean it.”

“Mean what?” Tim appears in the kitchen as though from nowhere, pouring a red bull into the coffee pot.

No one tries to stop him.

“Dick’s reading a new book,” Babs says, ignoring the murderous look Dick sends her way.

“Oh? What book? Is it any good?”

“Uh, yeah, uh.” Dick rubs at the back of his neck, glaring daggers at Babs as she rolls out of the room, cackling. “It’s uh, romance. Kind of silly actually…”

“Oh?”

Dick nods. “It’s got a vampire and a werewolf. Two guys. And a… well she’s just sort of magic. They break into a library to save the world from ecological disaster. They’re all bi. Together. Or they will be in the next book. This one’s more about the vampire and the werewolf getting together. Um...”

Tim’s gone very still in the way he does when his brain has caught hold of something and he’s absolutely about to let it consume him. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Dick shrugs. “It’s got some kink in it,” he warns, not wanting to expose his younger brother to something he’s not ready for. Which is ludicrous because he’s Robin. And from the way Tim’s not drinking his ‘coffee’ he can tell this is only going to go one way no matter what he says. He brightens, remembering something. “But there’s, like, a non smutty version too? Or a less smutty version, I guess? I don’t know, I haven’t read it yet. I could, we could go to the bookstore, maybe stop at the art store too…”

“I’ll meet you in the car.”

“So,” Jason says, and Dick can already tell where this is going by the shit-eating grin on his face. “Vampires, huh? Or is it more the werewolves you’re into?”

“Who told you?” Dick bemoans. “Was it Babs?” He bets it was Babs. Fucking Babs.

“Oh, no one told me anything Boy Wonder. Tim found out the author has a go-fund-me for some medical shit that exceeded his monthly allowance and he’s been harassing Bruce to “fix it” for several days now. He’s down in the cave making a nuisance of himself right now. Apparently he quote “needs more of the bisexual monster books Dick told him about” unquote, and the author can’t do shit if she up and fucking dies because this country’s a fucking for-profit shit hole.”

Dick places his head in his hands. “Oh, God. Is Bruce mad? He’s mad, isn’t he?”

Jason shrugs. “Couldn’t tell you. Last I heard, Tim was playing him the audiobook over the bat computer to make his case.”

Dick let’s his head thump against the table. This is it. This is his villain origin story. He’s going to run away and join the Rogues. Or maybe he’ll go back to the Circus. Either option is better than the idea of having to meet Bruce’s eye later over the dinner table.

“Personally, I thought the plot was a little weak but the characters are compelling,” Jason says, sipping his herbal tea. “I liked the chill necromancer doctor. I feel like he’d be able to fix me.”

#batfam #hunger pangs: true love bites #I’m sorry #I am so sorry how self-indulgent this is #But also i don’t care

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pollyanna-nana · 9 months

Text

Louie isn’t evil.

Or: what Pikmin 4 tells us about his character.

BIG WARNING FOR PIKMIN 4 SPOILERS! (and the rest of the series)

———

I want to preface this by saying that I am in no way trying to be the end-all, be-all of character interpretations, but Pikmin 4 to me, at least, confirms the suspicions I’ve had since playing Pikmin 2 and 3 all those years ago that Louie ISN’T secretly evil, or possessed, or whatever else. He’s just… Louie. And I think that’s interesting in and of itself.

1. Olimar himself vouches for him, and clearly doesn’t think he’s a bad person.

Say what you will, but I’m inclined to think Olimar is a decent judge of character. Clearly he’s worked with Louie for enough time to see that while he’s not very good at his job, he’s not intentionally so— at least not in a malevolent way (will get more into this later). He also wants you to forgive him for Olimar’s sake, which can be read as self-sacrificing (as Olimar is known to be) but I also think hints at the soft spot he has for Louie.

It's also worth noting that he states during a end-of-day conversation that he told Louie that, since he's a new employee, he should do everything Olimar does... including throw castaways into the onion. Interesting that Louie took this so literally, but it does provide an explanation for why he kidnapped the Koppaites beyond "he's evil and crazy".

2. He really, REALLY loves his grandma.

Like, wow. He talks about her SO MUCH both in his Piklopedia entries and also elsewhere in the game. It's interesting. Worth noting is that he never mentions any other family members- unlike Olimar, who talks about his wife and each of his children independently. I've said this before, but the content of a lot of these entries implies to me that Louie was mainly raised by his grandma, likely since birth. And given some of her emails in Pikmin 2, assuming they're also canon to Pikmin 4's timeline... Well, Louie certainly had an interesting upbringing. But he clearly loves her all the same.

3. He has a mischievous streak and tends to do things on impulse.

This was already fairly obvious from the previous games, but I think it's worth noting that this game confirms that he's... would immature be the right word? In any regard, he doesn't seem to see himself as a "grown-up"- when in all likelihood he is. Personally, as a 22-year-old, I find that pretty relatable as I often think of myself as younger when in reality I am by all definitions an adult. This, along with his grandma still being around, makes it pretty much certain that Louie is a lot younger than Olimar and the president, likely in his early to mid twenties. Being a bit of a goofball isn't really out of the ordinary, all things considered.

THAT BEING SAID, he's clearly capable of practicing self-restraint when he wants to. What he says here about the red Pikmin is pretty significant, since we know he's willing to eat just about anything- but clearly he has some reservations about creatures that are friendly and helpful. Which leads to...

4. He loves dogs and fluffy things.

Same. But he doesn't even consider eating Moss, Oatchi or the Ancient Sirehound, showing that his creature-eating habits stop at things he recognizes as useful. He clearly also holds affection for things that are soft and fuzzy, and says as much.

5. He is so autism.

He plays with fidget toys. He loves certain textures and sounds. This guy is stimming all over PNF-404!!! I think this also lends some explanation for why his behavior is what it is- things like taking Olimar's suggestion to do as he does super literally even after crashing on an alien planet, his hyperfixation on cooking and tendency not to communicate and incorrectly interpret situations (thinking the Koppaites are kidnappers in 3, running away from you in 4). He could even be low or no empathy as well, explaining why it takes a hot minute to get him to understand why people are upset with him about something.

Interestingly this game also makes it clear that Louie wants to live on the planet, or at least thought he did while you were chasing him down, which makes a lot of sense when you consider that he doesn't really seem to fit in back on Hocotate. I, too, wish to run away to an alien world with all of the things that I like and no other people, so I get you, Louie.

6. He hates his boss and his job, and the golden pikpik carrot incident was likely premeditated.

This probably looks bad, but honestly? As a fellow work-hating anti-capitalist schmuck I get it. The president is for all intents and purposes a huge asshole, from sending Olimar straight back to the planet after selling his ship to not caring that Louie got left behind, just wanting to find the rest of the treasures. I doubt he is very kind to his employees, and doesn't seem very good at running the business. Definitely a funny character, but if he were my boss I would absolutely want to punt him into the sun.

From some other entries he clearly wants to sell certain things to accrue money, but it's for things like getting better kitchen tools and following his dream to have his own cooking show. Clearly being a freight driver isn't what Louie actually wants to do with his life, and he could not give less of a shit about what happens to the company. Very short-sighted on his part, but also again, yeah I get you Louie.

7. He... doesn't like the color red for some reason.

Honestly, I'm not even really sure what to make of this. Is it because it reminds him of the Hocotate ship? Or does he just not like the color? Would be very interesting considering that it's Olimar's signature color. Perhaps that's at least part of why he attacks you in Pikmin 2- though that's speculation for another day.

Also funny to me is his comments on the black-colored treasures. We know blue is his favorite color, but I guess he's also a bit of a goth at heart. Lol.

In conclusion.

I think Louie isn't written or intended to be evil, and Pikmin 4's portrayal of him was intentionally written to confirm this. He's just, as some have said, an agent of chaos, but that doesn't make him a bad person. Just an autistic 20-something working a shitty job he doesn't care about, who loves his grandma and has a mischievous streak and a hyperfixation on food. At least from what I can interpret, ymmv!

#polly speaks #pikmin #pikmin 4 spoilers #pikmin spoilers #pikmin 4 #pikmin 2 #pikmin 3 #louie pikmin #olimar pikmin #character analysis #I guess #I dunno I mostly just wanted to put all this shit together in my brain but I guess other people can see it too haha #This is a non exhaustive list btw I just had a limit to how many images I wanted to wrangle but maybe I'll add on to this in the future #for now uh. Enjoy my weird rambling about the pikmin gremlin

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f1smutwriter · 1 month

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so excited to see that youre willing to write about so many drivers i feel like a lot of them do not get enough love. anywhooo maybe arthur x pierres younger sister, where everyone always thought they’d get together and pierre was always just like “no. not gonna happen” but it definitely happened anyway 😩 ly pookie definitely wont be my last time requesting 💁‍♀️

|𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲 (𝐚𝐥𝟏𝟐)

Arthur Leclerc x little!Gasly reader

Summary: Little Leclerc and Little Gasly aren’t so little anymore. They end up showing each other their true feelings but how would their brothers react

Warning: nothing just me ugly crying while writing this

Notes: Stop girl thank you so much. I do feel like a lot of the drivers get unappreciated. I love your energy and yes please request more would love to hear your ideas ♡︎

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April 9, 2005

“Look at them both, they’re so cute” Pascale said to mine and Pierre’s mom as they see me and Arthur in the front yard riding bikes together when our older brothers are at karting practice with our dads.

“I feel like those two are gonna get together in the future” My mom said to Pascale while smiling on the front porch drinking tea together. “Arthur you can’t do that you have to go straight no zigzag” I told Arthur the rules again to our game we were playing. “petit lapin that wasn’t part of the rules” he told me while still going in zigzags. “Thur play fair, and y/n that wasn’t in the rules” Enzo said making sure we didn’t argue anymore making Arthur stop and me pouting.

“Look at her pout” Pascale said to my mom pointing at my pout on my face. “Watch he’s gonna feel bad” Pascale laughed softly and without a heart beat Arthur came to me and said sorry. “I’m sorry petit lapin I won’t zigzag anymore” He said to me while holding my hand making me laugh a little.

When I see my dad’s car in the drive way I run to it wanting to see my older brother and Charles. Once they got out the car they had their bags in their hands making me help them. “Soleil it’s too heavy for you” Pierre said to me before kissing my head making me pout because I wanted to help. I skip over to my dad and jump into his arms “Papa I won racing with Arthur” I said to my dad while Arthur is talking with my brother and Arthur “I let her win” he whispered to them loud enough for me to hear.

“Hey no you didn’t I won fair and square” I say pouting at him not liking that he said he let me win. “Okay, okay I’m sorry you won fair and square” He said telling my little five year old self before I skipped to my mom and Pascale. “She could barely reach the petals so Enzo gave her a push” he laughed before going to me and the mom’s. “Maman can I have some water” I asked my mom when she put me on her lap. “Go ask your brother mon amour” she told me softly before kissing my head softly. Instead of asking my brother I skip to Arthur. “Thur can you help me get water” I asked with my puppy dog eyes that got him every time. Without a second to waste he gets up and walks with me to the kitchen.

“Soleil why didn’t you ask me” Pierre called out from the porch stair where him and Charles were talking. “Because Thur does it better” I shouted back before going back to Arthur. “I hope you know she has a crush on my brother” Charles said chuckling to Pierre who was an upset. “No she doesn’t, she’s not allowed to have crushes anytime soon” Pierre said a bit angrily not liking the idea of his little sister having a crush.

“Sorry buddy but she does” Our mom said while chuckling softly while sipping a bit of her tea. All of a sudden they hear my giggles from the kitchen, they all look inside and see me on Arthur’s back as he spins me around a bit. “Told ya” Charles chuckled before making Pierre roll his eyes staring at his little sister and his best friends little brother.

October 14, 2010

“Thur where are you” I call out from outside his room. When he didn’t answer I went to Charles room. “Cha have you seen Thur I have his present but he’s not opening his door” I asked holding his birthday present in my hand. “Yeah he told me to tell you to go in the tree house” Charles said while doing his hair. “Thank you cha” I giggled before running to the tree house hearing Arthur.

“Thur” I sang from the bottom of the tree house before giggling when I see him stick his head out. “petit lapin what are you doing here” he asked me looking confused on why I was at the house so early. “Got you a present that I want you to open in private” I said softly before climbing the ladder to the tree house. He just smile at me helping me up the last step before looking at the present in my hand. “You didn’t have to petit lapin I don’t expect anything” he whispered softly to me holding my hand still.

“Here open” I squealed excitedly giving him the present. He just smiled at my reaction before opening it and seeing a red bracelet. “I know your favorite color is red because of Ferrari so I made you a red bracelet, so that one day when you become a Ferrari driver you have a perfect bracelet” I explain before looking at him. “Do you like it” I asked him before feeling him pull me into a hug. “I love it Mon petit lapin” he whispered softly into my ear making me smile before hugging him back.

“Love you Thur” I whispered to him softly. “I love you too Mon petit lapin” he whispered back to me before we get called down by Charles and Pierre. We get down and Pierre sees the red bracelet on Arthur’s wrist. “She spent all day and night making that for you” he whispered to Arthur before looking at his little sister who was laughing with Charles about something stupid Charles had said. “Really” Arthur mumbled not believing that his petit lapin did that for him. On that very day he realized he was gonna be friends with her forever.

February 14, 2016

“No Thur it’s embarrassing everyone has a valentine but me” I mumbled against my pillow as he just chuckled rubbing my back. “Come on petit lapin, it’s not that bad” he laughed making me groan loudly in my pillow. “It is bad because even you have a date” I grumbled looking at him holding the teddy bear that he got me at the fair. “Your fifteen do you really need a valentine” he says to me softy rubbing my leg to make me feel better.

“You act like you’re so much older then me” I say smiled before looking at him with a bigger smile. “Go have fun your girl is probably waiting for you” I encouraged him to go have fun while holding my bear. “You sure because I don’t have to go” he asked me groan. “Yes go don’t be miserable here with me go have fun on your date Thur” I reassured him before I see him get up and walk out the door to go get ready for his date.

I sigh going into the kitchen and getting by all the good snacks we had. My mom just comes and sees me confused “what’s wrong Mon amour” she asked me seeing me get the good snacks. “No Valentine equals a very sad day maman” I said with a sad smile trying to lighten up the mood. “It’s okay Mon amour there will be many men lined up for you soon” she reassured me kissing my head before going back upstairs.

A few hours I hear the doorbell, then I hear my mom call me down stairs. “Y/n it’s for you amour” she called for me from the door. I groaned getting with my big pajama pants and Pierre’s hoodie that i never gave back going down stairs. “Who is it” I asked from the stairs before going to the door seeing Arthur with a big box of chocolate chips cookies along with white and pink tulips. “Wow look at you she’s gonna love it” I said softly with a smile before fixing his glasses that I loved on him. “Do you like it” he asked me with a smile as I fix his glasses. “Of course I do and she will too” I replied before looking at the beautiful flowers again.

“Well then my girl here are your favorite flowers and since you hate chocolate and can’t be normal whatsoever here is your cookies with chocolate that make no sense” he says to me giving me the flowers and cookies. “Thur what are you doing” I asked him holding the flowers and cookies. “Y/n Gasly, my petit lapin will you do me such an honor of being my Valentine” he questioned making me look up at him with a huge smile on your face. “Are you being serious right now” I asked almost about to cry from the sweet gesture.

“Actually now that I think about it I asked the wrong Gasly” he grinned at me making my eyes roll automatically. “Your stupid Leclerc” I said before hugging him wrapping my arms around his neck. “Not as stupid as you Gasly” he whispered to me wrapping his arms around my waist. My mom and dad just looking at us with awe on their faces when Arthur did all that for me. “I got more stuff in the car like food from your favorite restaurant, your favorite drink and everything else Mon petit lapin” he said softly kissing my head making me look up at him with the biggest smile on my face.

That was the day I realized I was in love with Arthur Leclerc.

November 18, 2023

Me and Arthur are walking down the strip of Las Vegas for the very first time. “This is Las Vegas, don’t really get the hype” Arthur laughed while walking around and looking at all the buildings. “Well Las Vegas is about gambling and drinking so” I giggled swinging our hands back and forth. “Yeah my pockets are done for the day” he told me before we walk in the lobby of our hotel. “Wanna go bother Pierre and Charles” I asked him with a slight smile on my face making him chuckle. “Let’s go” he says dragging me to the poker game they were playing with the other f1 drivers

“Hey tripod” I say to my brother before kissing his cheek and placing my head on his shoulder. “Soleil go bother someone else like max he’s winning right now” he whispered to me so no one else heard him. “No he scares me” I whispered back making him laugh and me just giggle. “Just go please and I’ll buy you sushi tomorrow” he offered making me going over to max placing my chin on his shoulder. “Max verstappen what are you doing on this fine evening” I say before he looks at me making me smile big and bright.

“Trying to ignore a certain Gasly” he says back with the same smile making me laugh. “Okay, okay I’m sorry please forgive me” I said before going to Arthur and sitting next to him at the booth where the rest of the drivers were. “I just realized is little Leclerc and Little Gasly dating” Max Fewtrell asked Lando who was drinking his drink. “Yeah they’ve been dating for like a while now, I think their childhood sweetheart.

“Wanna go back up and order room service” Arthur asked me while rubbing my thigh softly. “Always” I whispered before getting up off him and going to the elevators. “I still can’t believe you still have this” I say holding his hand and pointing at the red bracelet I made on his twelfth birthday. “A very special girl made it for me” he whispered softly to me before we walk to the room. “Yeah how special is she” I asked softly still holding his hand.

“Well she’s really special, the day she made me this was the day I fell in love with her” he says to me softly making me stop in my tracks. “W-what” I stuttered softly not believing the words that came out of his mouth. “I said the day she made me this was the day I fell in love with her, even though it was my twelfth birthday and she was 10 I fell hard” he whispered softly to me making me tear up.

“Please tell me you’re not joking, because if you are imma die Leclerc” I ranted fast making him look at me with his smile. “Never Mon petit lapin” he said before holding my face and kissing me. I kiss him back the guy I’ve loved for the past eleven years. The boy I had a crush on at five years old. I was kissing him I was finally kissing him.

He pulled away putting his forehead on mine. “I love you so much Mon petit lapin” he says while he tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. “I love you so much more Thur” I say back tearing up happy tears now that I finally had the love of my life in my arms. He kissed me the man that I’ve been in love with for eleven years counting finally kissed me.

———

March 6 2024

“Gosh this feels so surreal” Charles said fixing Pierre’s and his bow ties in the back room. “I know I mean I always knew they were gonna end up together but wow it doesn’t feel real” Pierre said softly tearing up realizing his little sister his Soleil was gonna get married. He hugs Charles tearing up in his shoulder as Charles tears up with him.

“Oh come on I can’t have my best men cry on me” Arthur says before hugging them both softly laughing at the two. “Bunch of cry babies” he teased them before Pierre pulls away. “Hey my baby sister is gonna be a Leclerc let me have my moment” Pierre told him before wiping away his tears and looking at Arthur. My dad calls for Arthur telling him it’s time. “Promise me you’ll take care of her” Pierre said looking at him with a smile.

“I promise” Arthur said back before hugging him quickly making his way down to the doors where everyone is. They open the door for him and he walks down the aisle first seeing everyone he loves is there. His mom, my mom, all our friends and family. He makes it down to where the priest is taking his spot before all the maid of honors and best men walked down with each other. After then were the flower girls spreading white and pink tulip petals. After them I come in with my arm entangled with my dad’s as he tears up and tells me how much he loves me. He walks me down to my spot in front of Arthur where he mouths to me with tears in his eyes how beautiful I was.

The priest starts the reception not hearing anything but just staring at Arthur with so much love in my eyes showing him I couldn’t wait to be his forever. “Do you y/n, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live” the priest says to me making me squeeze his hands a bit making sure he knows I will first. “I do” I say softly while looking into Arthur’s eyes.

“And Do you Arthur, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live” the priest asked Arthur making him squeeze my hand like I did to him. “I do” he said back to me making a smile pop up on my face along with tears. I turn around and grab the wedding band from Kika and he turns around to grab it from Pierre. I slide it on his ring finger as he slides his on mine.

“I know pronounce you husband and wife, Arthur you may now kiss your bride” he said making Arthur grab me and kiss me softly. Feeling the feeling I’ve had in my body for eleven years slowly come back. I kissed him back before pulling away as everyone is clapping for us. I grab his hand and we both walk down the aisle hand in hand going to the car to go to our honeymoon. I kiss him one last time before kissing and hugging everyone good bye before I get in the car where Arthur is waiting for me. “So Mrs. Leclerc Gasly where would you like to go first” Arthur asked me as he puts the car in drive.

“Anywhere you are Mr. Leclerc Gasly” I said before rolling down our windows and driving off wherever we will go. Only we know that and that’s only for us to know.

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Notes: I’m not crying you are. I know you asked me something so little but I just had to make it um how do you say it. ✨extra✨ which made the story a masterpiece. I did this scene twice because I forgot to save it and I left and everything went with me sooo. I really hope you like it and more story’s coming soon.

#arthur leclerc x y/n #arthur leclerc fluff #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc imagine #arthur leclerc #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 fluff #f2 fanfic #f2 fluff #f2 fic #f1 x reader

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etherealyoungk · 2 months

Text

— ✦ sugar & spice | jeon wonwoo

PAIRING: bodyguard!wonwoo x celebrity!reader (fem!reader)

SUMMARY: it wasn’t your fault you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, however, the people had a lot to say about that, especially since your father a public figure. but when he’s falsely accused of taking bribes and money laundering, your whole life falls apart, and things start to get out of hand and dangerous. that’s when you meet wonwoo - the bodyguard who’s been assigned to stay by your side and protect you 24/7. the only problem? he was really cold, but also irresistibly attractive. it was going to be a task to try and befriend him, but who said you weren’t up for the challenge.

THEMES: bodyguard au, mutual pining, slow burn

WARNINGS: use of curse words, mentions of anxiety, social anxiety, panic attack, crowds, fighting, violence, kissing, suggestive, just wonwoo being a whole heartthrob

WORDCOUNT: 29.2k

A/N: this fic was so self-indulgent oh my god. thank you to rania @wheeboo for feeding my delusions for this fic and proofreading it for me, ilysm <33 reblogs and feedback are always appreciated ^^ i would love to know your thoughts! enjoy reading ^^

full fic under the cut

“all right, class, that’s it for today. please come collect your mock test papers as you exit”, the professor announces and everyone starts talking, the room echoing with voices and movement as people get up, their feet shuffling as they stand in line to collect their papers from the front.

you come up in front and your professor gives you a smile as he hands yours back to you. “good job yn, near perfect score”, he says and you smile back. “thanks prof”, you tell, beaming as you take your paper and move. but you don’t miss the snide remark told by someone behind you and the few laughs that occur. but you ignore the comment and walk away.

you were used to people telling you that, people envying you and not in a nice way. you’d heard all kinds of things all your life. “bet they only got in because of her connections” or “they’re only top of the class because of they’re father’s influence” but all of those were very untrue. you were truly passionate about what you were studying and doing, but the people didn’t seem to think so.

yes, you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, coming from a prestigious family with a lot of influence - your dad being a huge business tycoon, which made your family really rich and influential. but growing up, you wanted nothing more than to be not associated with him. your name was always tied with his - and you hated that. it never gave you the chance to be your own person, to have your own identity, which you craved for.

growing up only became harder when your mother passed away when you were still young. she was ill and there was nothing that could be done to save her, it had been too late. your moments and memories with her were limited considering you were only ten when she passed away, but still, everything you remembered about her you cherished, and you aimed to make her proud one day, proud of the person you’ve become. as a token from your mother, you had kept her ring and no, not her wedding ring, but another ring she wore. it was a dainty ring with a pretty pattern and you had always loved that ring as a child. so now you wore it, to remember her, to keep some part of her with you.

and of course, with growing up, the biggest struggle of all for you was making friends. when you were younger, you were actually good at making friends, you had plenty in fact. but as you grew up, you learned to see who was just befriending you for ulterior motives and whatnot, and you soon became good at filtering who you really became friends - close friends with. but in all those years, you only made two friends like that. they were the purest and sweetest souls ever - rania and skye. they were your best friends. they were your childhood friends and the only ones you opened up to and grew close to. while you still had a group of friends you interacted with on an everyday and casual basis, there wasn’t anyone you were close with besides them. there was also your current boyfriend - jaehyun. it was silly really, you had a crush on him for a while and soon the news spread from god knows where and one day he asked you out. you were so head over heels that you said yes of course, because which fool would turn down their crush?

you're sitting across the table from your father, who’s busy talking to someone on the phone. it was a weekly thing that you had to have dinner at your father’s house.

"yes i want to see a sample of the product before we send it into manufacturing”, your father speaks to the person on the other line.

you stare down at your plate, moving your fork around as you listen to him speak. you and your father didn’t have the best relationship, it was rocky and messy, to say the least. ever since your mother passed away, you both drifted apart, your father focusing on the business and you just trying to get through the days as you tried to cope with the sudden loss. and you both somehow stayed like that, drifted apart. but that didn’t mean he was a bad guy. he still did nice things for you and you both had your moments, but it was strained. let's just say he wasn't the best father figure growing up.

you were used to having filler conversations about your life with your father like this. all he does is nod before he goes back to scrolling on his phone. half the time during your childhood and even now, you barely saw your father. he was always busy with work or attending meetings about god knows what. so that meant you were all alone in the big house which got lonely. that’s when you decided to move into a different house, have your own space and make it cosy too. at first, your father wasn’t too keen on the idea, but you were old enough now, in college too, so he agreed. so now you live alone in a house comfortable enough to make into your own little safe haven.

you unlock your front door, sliding into your house slippers as you trudge inside, discarding your bag on the couch as you open the fridge to grab a bottle of cold water to refresh yourself. today had been a long day. apart from studies, you also volunteered at a local cat shelter for rescues and the local public library. you enjoyed doing both things so you were more than happy to volunteer. they both had their perks 1) free cuddles and serotonin from all the kittens and cats 2) you could borrow as many books as you wanted so it was a win-win.

you were used to your father being on the news, he was a businessman after all, an influential man, someone important. but with all that came all the trolls, the hate and people who were obviously jealous and disliked him for no reason at all. all this in turn was also directed towards you. you were often called the silver spoon kid, nepo baby, or someone who’s life was handed to you on a silver platter. for the most of the time, you tried to ignore them, but of course as any normal human, it affected you. you hated it at times infact. you hated how people could concoct a ridiculous assumption about you based on nothing and it infuriated you. but you’d learn to grow up with it, grow up being watched, hounded at, judged at and trolled at. that was what you get for simply existing and being born in a wealthy family. and somewhere along the way you developed an anxiety about this and it made you scared to get close and open up to people.

when you first joined college, it was hell. people took pictures without your consent all the time and they still did at times, but you’ve given up at trying to stop it. you were used to people's cameras at you, fingers at you, talking about you and also using you. everyone wanted to be your friend and butter you up to you, but when you started putting boundaries, they were quick to call you names. you were surrounded by paparazzi going to you during the first week and even now on the occasional basis, someone was always following you and snapping pictures of you. even if you told yourself it was okay, it was not and deep down you hated it. but what could you do?

your father, well he didn’t seem to mind all the comments being told about him, as long as his business went well at the end of the day. but if you were going to be honest, your father was pretty smart and he had a knack for what he was doing, that’s what made him so successful. but that didn’t mean he didn’t hit bumps along the way, oh he did. you still remember the headline your father made when he invested money into a broken startup. but now he was making millions as the company took off.

today morning was a good day. the sun was shining bright and the clouds were white against the blue sky. it wasn’t too hot, a comfortable temperature - it was the ideal day and you were more than happy about this weather. you get ready for college, it was your last semester before you graduated. you grab your phone from the desk table only to realise it was dead and you plug it in as you head to the bathroom to get ready. you quickly put on an outfit, grab your books, bag, and your phone on the way out. you lock your door and raise your hand to unlock your car, opening the door and sitting inside. you drive to college, putting on some music, in a good mood today as you softly sing along to the song that was playing on the radio.

you park your car in the parking lot, which was already crowded and you mentally cursed at the way people parked sometimes. you exit the car and walk towards campus, trying to unlock your phone but it doesn't open. that’s when you realise it was still dead - silly you had forgot to turn on the switch when you plugged your phone in. you mentally curse as you walk towards class, hoping someone had a spare phone charger for you to use. but that’s when you get a feeling - a feeling that you were being watched. and when you glance up, you can see people looking at you, whispering things in hushed voices between themselves. you brushed it off as nothing and continued walking.

a couple of people pass by you, looking right at you as they pass a comment. “see i knew your father was a crooked man”, he tells and the others laugh as they walk away. what? you were completely confused and the fact that almost everyone was looking at you as you kept walking made you nervous all of a sudden. this wasn’t good. you spot your professor and he comes walking towards you, in big strides, like he is in a hurry. “hello yn”, he says, faking a smile. “hello professor”, you reply. “i would like to have a word with you, please follow me”. he says and you can still feel everyone’s eyes on you as you walk behind your professor.

he closes the door behind him and urges you to sit down as he takes a seat in front of you.

“i’m sorry to hear about your father yn”, he starts and you furrow your brows, utterly confused. “i would like for you to meet with the principal so we can hopefully come to an understanding about how you will be completing your semester over here”, he continues and you’re lost.

“i’m sorry but i don’t quite follow”, you say, and he just blinks back at you.

“do you not know? have you not seen the news?”, he asks, surprised.

“what news?”, you ask again and watch as he fetches out his phone, handing it to you. and there it was, the headline that made your jaw drop.

“mr. __ a certified criminal, took bribes and laundered money”.

what the fuck? your eyes quickly scan the article, reading the things your father was being accused of. there was no way he would do that, he wouldn't you thought. you look back up at your professor and hand the phone back to him, at a complete loss for words.

“i really had no idea about this”, you tell. “i think it would be better for you to go home today and then we can have a talk about this later this week along with the principal okay”, he says and you’re dismissed. you take a deep breath as you open the door and walk out, and hallway is quick to quiet down and you can feel the eyes of everyone on you.

“hope your father rots in jail”, you hear a guy say and the others laugh. you hear a few more snide remarks as you walk out back to your car and you take a deep breath again. what the fuck was happening right now. you start the car and drive to your father’s house because you need answers.

you storm into the house, and your father is already sitting down at the table with his lawyer. “can someone please explain what is going on”, you yell as soon as you see your father.

“yn” , your father says, upon seeing you.

“you took bribes??”, you ask and you can see the small flash of hurt on his face before he composes himself as he answers you. “no yn, this is simply not true. i am being falsely accused”, he says calmly.

“so what’s going to happen now?”, you ask.

“this is defamation, there is absolutely no evidence to these claims”, your father fills in.

a week passes by and you somehow manage to make it to class, but obviously, everyone is still talking about you. rumors are goingand around like wildfire and people keep telling you nasty things, leaving you mean comments on your social media. even the paparazzi around you are following you everywhere suddenly and you hate this. your whole world was turning upside down and you find yourself driving to your father’s house that evening again, only to see people crowded around the house. puzzled, you get out of your car and you're immediately surrounded by the paparazzi and a hound of people as they recognise you. you see your father in the crowd and that’s when you notice the police officers and then the handcuff on your father’s hands.

“father!”, you yell out and he looks at you. you try to move forward, make your way towards him but someone pushes you down before someone else grabs your hand. “you little thief, no wonder you’re so rich”, he mutters out and you try to pry his hand off you but he doesn’t let go. “yn!” you hear your father yell and soon the police pry the man off you. you watch as your father is escorted into the police vehicle he’s driven off.

the camera flashes continue and people keep yelling nasty things and you run towards your car, getting in and following the police car. at the police station, you get a chance to talk to your father with his lawyer present.

“what is happening?”, you ask. “i thought you said this was a false accusation, why are you being arrested?”, you ask, looking between your father and his lawyer, jeonghan who was a competent man in his line of business.

“it seems there has been some evidence found", your father says, in a rather relaxed manner.

“so what’s going to happen now?”, you ask, worried.

“i will have to stand trial and prove my innocence”, he adds. you see as he glances down at your wrist which you’re massaging gently.

“are you okay, i saw what happened back there’, he adds.

“y-yeah im okay”, you tell quickly.

“no, this is not okay. you’re going to be affected by all the things happening now and things are getting dangerous and out of hand”, he tells.

“i can manage”, you say.

“no, you cannot, things will only get worse from here, especially when the trial starts and they are all going to be taking their anger out on you. i cannot risk anything happening to you. so it’s decided”, your father says.

“what’s decided?”, you ask.

“you’ll be having a bodyguard with you 24/7 from now onwards”, your father adds.

“what? father there is no need-", you start before you're interrupted.

“yn listen to your father, he is right” jeonghan interjects and you sigh. there was no point arguing over here. in hindsight, things were bound to get out of control and having a bodyguard around did seem wise. the thought that something worse could happen to you makes you shiver.

“hire only the best”, my father tells and jeonghan nods. “i know just the person” he tells, assuring my father.

you didn’t step out of your house the next day. paparazzi surrounded your home and you were in no ability to go out without being followed. the pictures of your father’s arrest and your face were plastered all over the internet and new articles, with all sorts of headlines. by 12pm everyone seemed to have gotten tired of waiting (thank god) and your driveway was finally clear. you’re in jeans and a top, rummaging through your pantry when you hear your doorbell ring. you immediately stand straight. who could this be?

you walk towards your door and peek through the peephole but you can only see the body of someone and you hear a voice you recognise. your father’s lawyer - jeonghan, so you open the door.

“i didn’t know you were coming”, you tell and smile. “i texted you”, he adds. “must've missed it”, you add before glancing at the other man standing next to him, who you noticed was quite tall.

“please come in “, you add only for jeonghan to refuse. “no no, i must get going to prepare for your father’s case. i just came to introduce you to your bodyguard”, he explains.

“oh, i see”, you tell softly.

“he’ll be with you wherever you’re going. escort and protect you wherever you’re going. i’ve already briefed him and given him a copy of your schedules, but if you’re going anywhere, he is to accompany you”, he tells you, making sure you knew, like he knew you would try to sneak off.

“yes yes alright”, you tell, crossing your arms over your chest.

“well, get introduced then, i have to get going”, he tells, as his phone rings and he walks off, leaving you standing in front of the door with this mysterious man.

as you look at him, you realise how tall he was because wow, he was really tall, and really handsome. he towered over you easily as you looked up at him. he’s wearing a clean, crisp black suit, which has been tailored to his body, making the fit perfect, showing off his build and his hair was styled to expose his forehead. his foxy-like eyes hold a mysterious but focused gaze. damn, he was hot. your eyes sweep over his body one more time before he’s clearing his throat and you're shaken away from your thoughts.

“hello, im jeon wonwoo and i'll be your bodyguard from today”, he tells, his voice deep as he looks at you, his alluring gaze catching your attention.

“hi! i’m yn! nice to meet you”, you say a little too enthusiastically as you hold out your hand for a handshake. you’re already cringing at your actions but wonwoo reaches out and shakes your hand nonetheless and gives you a small nod.

after that there is a moment of awkward silence before you speak again. “um i don’t think i’ll be going anywhere today so you can start tomorrow”, you tell. you didn’t want him to be waiting around unnecessarily. he just looks down at you.

“i have been assigned to stay by your side at all times”, he tells. “but i’m just going to be home”, you tell. “it’s fine uh - i can call you wonwoo right?”, you ask and he gives you a curt yes.

“right wonwoo, it’s all right, just clock off work, it’s fine for today”, you tell and he looks like he’s thinking before he speaks again.

“if you insist”, is all he says before he gives you a small nod of acknowledgement, telling you he’ll be here tomorrow before he’s turning around and walking off.

the next morning, you’re sleeping peacefully when you hear your doorbell ring. who was at your doorstep so early? you must be hearing things you think. after a few moments you hear your doorbell ring again and you groan as you let out a yawn, unwillingly getting out of bed as you drag your feet to the door, your eyes barely open, still laced with sleep. you open the door to see a tall figure in front of you, your eyes still unfocused and you're confused before you hear the voice.

“good morning”, he tells and you blink your eyes a couple of times before you realise who it was.

“oh wonwoo hi”, you tell, trying to process this information. “it’s only uh-” “7am”, he fills in.

“right, 7am”, you tell, yawning again. “why are you here so early?”, you ask and your eyes a bit more awake now to take in the sight in front of you. wonwoo was adorned in another crisp suit, his hair perfectly styled and you could smell the waft of his cologne as you stood.

“my working hours start from 7am”, he tells matter of factly. “right, uh okay just come in”, you tell, moving inside, not bothering to see if he was following you. you go back to your room to fetch your phone, seeing an email from your professor. they wanted to have a meeting with the principal - well this couldn’t be good.

the entire time you’re getting ready, wonwoo is just standing in one corner of your hall. you told him he could sit but he insisted on standing so you just shrug your shoulders and let it go. you don’t have the time to eat breakfast and you lock your house door, about to get in the car when wonwoo speaks again.

“i’ll drive”, he tells, holding his hand out for the key.

“oh no, it’s fine i can manage”, you tell.

“i’ve been told to drive you wherever you need”, he adds, looking at you and he had the look of someone you did not want to interfere in his work with.

there was no point arguing with this man was there? you sigh, handing him the key and sitting in the front seat next to him because sitting in the complete back would make you feel weird. wonwoo somehow knew the route to your college and he parks the car effortlessly in the parking lot, which is honestly impressive. (or you just had bad parking skills shh)

you see the crowd as you step out, and through all the people and you can even spot a few paparazzi if you looked carefully. you glance back at wonwoo and then the campus entrance. if you went with wonwoo, you were definitely going to get attention - unwanted attention that is. he was obviously going to stand out in that outfit of his.

“just stay here, i’ll be back, it’ll be quick”, you say.

“i'm afraid i can’t do that, i’m assingned to accompany you wherever you go as your bodyguard”, he says, looking at you.

“i know, but i’ll be quick, nothing will happen”, you add as you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“i will be accompanying you”, he responds. even with all those looks he was really dense huh, it was like talking to a wall.

“fine god just come”, you finally tell, slightly annoyed. jeonghan really got you a tough bodyguard didn't he.

as soon as you step foot on campus, everyone’s head turns towards you and obviously everyone is whispering something about the man following behind you - wonwoo. you mentally curse as the crowd around you becomes larger as you walk, everyone stopping to see what was going on. wonwoo is quick to maintain an arm’s distance outside as he walks beside you and making sure people don't surround you. you try to look down as you just walk ahead, straight into the principal's office. wonwoo stands outside.

“yn glad you could make it”, your professor says, as the principal sits beside, just giving you a small nod.

“what did we need to talk about”, you ask, looking between your principal and professor.

you watch as your principal sits up straighter, interlocking his palms on the table before they speak.

“i know you just have a semester left before you graduate”, he starts off. “but given the current situation, it would be hard for us to continue classes with you being present”, he adds.

“i could do online classes”, you suggest but you principle just shakes his head.

“yn, we acknowledge the effort and dedication you have demonstrated throughout your academic journey at our institution. your accomplishments have been commendable, and we recognize the hard work you have put into your studies”, he starts. “we really do yn”, your professor adds.

“but we have to bring attention to a significant concern that has risen due to recent incidents involving you and a related controversy”, your principal continues.

oh god, where was this conversation going. you’re about to open your mouth to speak when your principle starts talking again.

“the college has carefully assessed the situation and after thorough consideration, it has been determined that unfortunately, you will be unable to graduate at this time. this decision is a result of the impact of the controversy on the overall reputation and values of the institution”, he finishes and it takes you two seconds to fully understand the situation and what was exactly going on right now.

“what?”, you let out, shocked. “we know this might be sudden but we are-”,

“no no, this is not fair, you can’t do this”, you interject.

“it is fair, considering the reputation of our institution is on the line”, he adds.

“excuse me?”, you scoff. “i'm in no way related to what is going on right now”, you add.

“it is involving your father”, he says. “exactly, my father, not me. so i do not see why you would have to go to this extreme”, you tell, not letting this go lightly.

“yn”, your professor says in a warning tone.

“four years. four years of my life i’ve spent studying and working hard and you’re just gonna throw that all away and not let me graduate over a controversy? over something that is not true let me tell you that”, you tell, upset. “that’s not right and not fair”, you add. “letting me graduate is the least you can do, it’s only a semester come on”, you plead.

“the decision is final”, your principal tells.

“what no, you can let me take the semester later, i can still graduate then”, you suggest, trying to be hopeful but the air in the room was tense.

“yn thank you for your time and we wish you all the luck in your future”, you principal tells, completely dismissing you.

“you can’t do this, you’ll be hearing from me remember that”, you tell, standing up and pulling the door open, walking out. the hallways are thankfully relatively empty because it’s class hours and everyone was in the lecture halls or study rooms. but as you turn you bump into jaehyun.

“jaehyun hi!”, you tell as you approach him. “i'm so sorry i haven’t been able to text you, i’ve been so occupied”, you tell as jaehyun barely looks at you as you speak, checking his phone, texting someone else.

“i’m free this week though so i thought we could go out to dinner or something”, you suggest, hoping that maybe a date would help you get your mind off things.

“yeah i’m not sure about that”, he tells. “oh are you busy? we can-”

“listen yn, considering everything going on right now, i wouldn’t want to be seen with you”, he tells and you’re hurt by his words.

“but i don’t see how that matters if you like me”, you tell, trying to hold it together.

jaehyun only lets out a small laugh. “like you? i only dated you because you were rich, was a nice thing to boast about until your dad had to be revealed as a thief”, he tells, mocking you and his words sting.

“that’s not true”, you tell. “i hope he rots in jail”, he adds, before leaving, having completely trampled over your heart and feelings.

you’ve completely forgotten about wonwoo and it’s only when you turn around that you see him, a few paces behind you and no doubt he heard everything, just great. you bite the inside of your cheek as you look down, walking ahead and walking straight to the car, embarrassed but also upset. you get in the car, not bothering for wonwoo to open the door for you and sit inside, tears welling in your eyes. wonwoo stands outside like he’s unsure, giving you a moment of privacy before you’re rolling down the window and telling him to drive you home.

the car ride is quiet and you’re just looking out the window the entire time, trying not to cry. it wasn't fair. any of this wasn’t fair. you just wanted to curl up and hide right now. you can feel your stomach rumbling, protesting for not being given breakfast and you sigh, putting a hand on your stomach. now that you were aware, you were actually really hungry. you had half the mind to stop somewhere and buy something but you didn’t want to deal with people right now.

“did you eat breakfast?”, you ask wonwoo, feeling suffocated with the silence in the car.

“not exactly, but i did eat something”, he informs. you nod your head, thinking of what else to ask him.

“so how come you chose this bodyguard business”, you ask, glancing over at wonwoo.

“it suits me, i’m good at it”, he replies, giving you a short answer.

“right, i see”.

a few more seconds of silence follows before wonwoo speaks. “are you okay?”, he asks, his eyes still trained on the road ahead of him. his question takes you aback. it had been ages since someone asked you that. are you okay? those three words that had the capability of making you rethink your life and look into yourself. were you okay? no, not really. life sucked right now and you wanted nothing more than to just curl up in bed and cry.

“i-i don’t know”, you answer, letting out a sigh as your fingers play with your mother's ring on your hand, something you did when you were anxious or lost in thought.

“i’m used to it, it’s fine”, you add quickly.

after a few more minutes, wonwoo is pulling up into your driveway and he parks the car, getting out. you don’t know how this man managed to walk so fast because just as you’re about to turn your body to open the door, wonwoo is already there, holding the car door open for you.

“oh um thank you”, you tell softly as you get out.

you realized it was going to take you a while to break into wonwoo’s wall and befriend him. it looked like he was going to be with you for a while, until the trial was over atleast so might as well become friends. he did prove to be a hell though, it was like talking to a robot, but who said you weren’t up for the challenge?

it’s a new week and wonwoo is driving you to the cat shelter since it’s your day to volunteer today. atleast during all these sudden changes in your life, this was a constant. it felt comforting in a way. the animal shelter was run by a sweet lady who also adored you. coming here always made you feel better, no matter how shitty your day had been.

you enter the shelter and immediately all the cats recognise your scent and meow, as if they were welcoming you. the owner comes out to see what the commotion was about and smiles upon seeing you.

“yn! it’s so nice to see you”, she greets, pulling you in for a hug.

“it’s good to be back”, you tell.

“who’s this mystery man”, she asks, referring to wonwoo.

“my bodyguard. with everything happening and the trial and all, things are getting out of hand ”, you explain and she nods. “quite the catch isn’t he”, she says, teasing you and you chuckle.

“i'm so sorry to hear about all this though, just know i’m here for you”, she tells.

“thank you”, you tell, grateful.

“well you carry on, i just need to finish writing these invoices and i’ll join you”, she adds, walking back to the office room and you’re left alone with all the cats.

“hello fluffy”, you tell, looking down to the cat who’s brushing against your legs,

wonwoo stands at the side of the room like he’s been punished even though you again insist that he can sit down but he insists on standing. you sigh, whatever suited him. you turn your attention back to the cats surrounding you and start your duties.

you had to clean their litter, feed them and make sure the ones who were on medication were given the medicine. after you’re done cleaning the litter, you realise you need to open a new bag of litter, the only problem? it was 15kgs heavy and in no way were you capable of lifting that huge bag to the litterbox area. you go back to the front and wonwoo is still standing, his hands neatly folded in front of him as he just stares at the wall. he really needs to relax you thought. you walk up to him, hands on your hip.

“i need your help, come here”, you ask and you hear the shuffle of wonwoo’s feet behind you as you walk.

“can you help me lift this?”, you ask, holding one end of the bag. wonwoo doesn’t say a word as he holds the bag and lifts it himself effortlessly and carries it to where you want it. damn, he was strong.

you fill up the box with new litter, washing your hands and come back to the front.

“i have a surprise for you”, you hear the owner say and she walks towards one of the boxes covered by a cloth. she uncovers it and a second later you hear a high pitched meow, followed by another and another.

“oh my god”, you squeal. “poe littered! i completely forgot she was due”, you tell, looking as she brings the box down and the kittens overflow out of the box in a frenzy, climbing out of the box and making their way towards you with their wobbly but determined feet. you bend down to see them and they’re adorable. you watch as the battalion of kittens make their way to wonwoo, climbing on his shoes and meowing up at him, ambushing him practically.

you giggle as one cheeky kitten even climbs up wonwoo’s suit and all the way to his shoulder, sitting there perched while wonwoo just stands there, completely ignoring the fact that he was being attacked by vicious kittens right now.

“you should adopt that one, it likes you”, you tell as you hold a kitten in your hands, referring to the one sitting perched on his shoulder.

“i already have a cat at home”, he tells and this piece of information makes you raise your brows in surprise.

“really? you have a cat”, you ask in surprise. “i do”, he answers quietly.

“oh my god, show me a picture”, you ask.

wonwoo only blinks at you. “i refrain from using my phone during work hours”, he tells smoothly and you roll your eyes.

“come on wonwoo, don’t be like that. it’s fine, just show me”, you ask again. “please?”, you add and wonwoo looks at you for a few more seconds before he’s moving his hand to remove his phone from his jacket pocket. the kitten on his shoulder makes a move, almost about to fall but wonwoo is quick to catch it and it’s now sitting in the palm of his hand, as he operates his phone with the other hand. he turns his phone towards you, revealing the picture of his cat.

“her name is oreo”, he tells.

“aww she’s so pretty and so cute!!”, you exclaim. wonwoo’s cat was gorgeous actually. she was a black cat with white paws, white whiskers and a patch of white on her neck and chest.

“she’s a rescue too”, he adds, and that little piece of information lifts your heart.

“that’s nice. her little white paws are adorable oh my gosh”, you tell as you smile up at wonwoo. “they’re like little socks”, you say, chuckling at yourself as you hand his phone back to him. you notice how the kitten in his hand was busy chewing the end of his tie. if you looked carefully, you could see the faintest hint of a smile on his lips right now as he watched the kitten playing in his hands. how cute.

wonwoo drives you back home after you finish all your duties at the shelter and you get a text from jeonghan about your father’s trial. the first trial was set for next week.

you're just at home and you’re certainly not used to the intrusion to your sleep at 7am every day now when wonwoo comes to work to start his duties. you told him to stay at home and you’d call him if you needed him but no, he didn’t listen. so here he was at 7am on the dot everyday at your doorstep. you yawn as you open the door, mumbling something to wonwoo about changing his work timings to 9am instead.

you’re brushing your teeth, walking around the room and you can see wonwoo standing as usual. you wash your face and head towards the kitchen. you needed coffee now. you glance towards wonwoo occasionally because honestly, even if he was just standing there, he looked so….effortlessly handsome. oh my god. you should not be having these thoughts right now. it was too early for this. you really needed some coffee to get your head straight.

“do you want some coffee?”, you ask wonwoo as you look at him.

“i’m good, thank you”, he says. of course he was going to say that.

“how do you like your coffee?”, you prod him again.

“black”, he says.

and of course he likes his coffee black.

“well, i like a latte, ice or hot depending on my mood, sometimes with caramel sauce if i’m feeling fancy but otherwise mostly plain”, you tell, dumping this piece of information onto wonwoo as you struggle to open your coffee powder jar. you try again but it wasn’t budging. you try again this time, trying to concentrate all your strength onto your hand, but it didn’t work and it wasn’t opening. without a word, wonwoo comes forward and offers to open it. he takes the jar from your hands and opens it effortlessly in one shot, probably because of his super strength. you mumble out a thank you and instead of letting him go back to that sad corner beside the wall, you ask him to take a seat in front.

“wonwoo, you should know that you standing there at the side of the room like you’ve been punished is just extremely weird. please sit, i’m not gonna kill you, seriously, i’m a nice person”, you explain, your hand pointing to the stool that was on the left of him. “i would prefer-”, he starts. “no, i would prefer if you just sat please. you’re supposed to listen to whatever i say right”, you tell, looking at him with your hands crossed over your chest.

he doesn’t say anything but finally takes a seat and you do a little celebration inside your head. “see! that’s so much better”, you tell, already feeling at ease.

you continue making your coffee and you’re halfway through making your coffee when you hear your doorbell ring. you glance at wonwoo before putting your mug down. but wonwoo gets up, telling you he’ll check who it was.

“who are you?”, you hear wonwoo ask as he opens the door and you walk up to the door, curious. “who is it?”, you ask and when the person comes into view, you let out an excited squeal.

“RANIAA”, you exclaim, accidentally pushing wonwoo to the side as you pull rania inside, only to see skye behind them. “OH MY GOD”, you exclaim again, pulling rania into a hug and then skye. meanwhile wonwoo just stands in the corner of the cramped doorstep, regaining his balance from your not so subtle shove.

“what are you guys doing here”, you ask, once all the excitement has toned down and both rania and skye are seated on the couch.

“we’ve been seeing the news and everything that’s been happening”, skye says.

“so we came to support you, it must be so hard right now”, rania adds.

“aw you guys are really the best”, you tell. it had been years since you last saw them, both of them having moved to different countries. though you guys were separated by distance, you were still connected by your unhinged and chaotic group chat.

“by the way, who’s the handsome hunk over there”, rania asks, not so subtly.

“rania jeez, he’s my bodyguard calm down”, you tell but you don’t miss the glint in their eyes.

“is he single”, rania asks and you glare at them.

“stop it”, you tell and skye chuckles beside you.

“wait, weren’t you dating jaehyun?”, skye adds and your face falls. “yeah about that, he uh dumped me”, you tell and skye is quick to pull you in a reassuring embrace.

“this is your sign to date that guy, shoot your shot before it’s too late bestie”, rania encourages, making you laugh.

“enough about me, how are you guys? how’s seungkwan and soonyoung”, you ask, eager to know more about them. you watch as rania and skye exchange a glance between themselves before looking at you.

“they’re coming here tomorrow”, they tell in unison and you almost yell. “really?”, you ask, shocked but also excited.

“they wanted to see you too so we dragged them along with us, but there was a goof up with the plane tickets and they had to rebook on a different flight”, skye explains.

“it’s okay, we can all go out together tomorrow”, you tell and they smile.

rania and skye end up going back at the end of the day and poor wonwoo had to witness you three maybe talk a little too much. you were sure he was glad when he clocked off work, beyond relieved he didn’t have to hear you all chatter anymore. even though you told him he could leave early, that you were going to just be home, he again didn't listen to you, saying that he would stay, saying something about upholding his duty. rania bombarded him with too many questions and you were sure he was going to get more from seungkwan and soonyoung tomorrow, poor guy.

the next day you’re excited to see your besties again and wonwoo is yet again standing near the wall like he’s a statue. you’ve given up at this point really. before they arrived, you briefed wonwoo on being nice to them, especially to seungkwan and soonyoung, who were probably going to hound him with questions again today. “don’t be mean to them if they ask you questions”, you tell, pointing a finger at wonwoo. “be nice to them okay?”, you tell, adding a little glare to make sure your point went across.

you wear a simple yet cute outfit and before you know it, your house is filled with laughter and smiles as soonyoung and seungkwan greet you.

“oh my god, it’s so nice to see you guys!”, you tell, excited as soonyoung and seungkwan smile back at you. “same here yn”, they tell.

“we planned a little double date”, skye tells. “make it a triple date, you can ask wonwoo to join”, rania adds, winking at you and you roll your eyes at her.

“who is what”, seungkwan asks, finally noticing the other presence in the room.

“my bodyguard. given the current situation my father thought it would be best”, you explain.

“woah he looks strong”, soonyoung adds and before you know it, both the boys make their way to wonwoo while you girls decide on where to go for your little double or well triple date.

“hello”, soonyoung says to wonwoo. wonwoo only responds with a small nod of his head, standing still.

“how long have you been a bodyguard for?”, seungkwan asks.

wonwoo glances at seungkwan, looks him up and down before answering. “four years”, wonwoo tells.

“woah! so how’d you become one? is there like a special training school for this?”, soonyoung asks, completely serious and utterly curious.

“it’s a sub branch in the security industry”, is all wonwoo answers with.

“can i ask you a question”, seungkwan asks, bringing his hand around wonwoo’s shoulder which wonwoo shrugs off in a second.

“what do you think of yn?”, seungkwan adds, acting like he wasn’t just shrugged off by wonwoo.

“yn is my client”, wonwoo says, like he’s stating a fact.

“i know she’s your client dude but what do you think of her, you know?”, seungkwan adds, trying to knock some sense into wonwoo, who clearly didn’t have any romantic braincell.

“you should take her out on a date, cheer her up. i'm sure she feels bad about everything happening with her father and all”, seungkwan explains nicely.

“yeah!”, soonyoung adds. we’re going on a double date anyway, you can join us and it’ll become a triple date”, soonyoung adds with enthusiasm.

wonwoo just stares at these two boys like they’re idiots before answering. “that’s not in my job description”, he tells.

seungkwan visibly gets annoyed. “man, you’re really dense you know”, he adds. “it’s gonna hurt your romantic life in the long run buddy”, seungkwan adds with a look.

wonwoo doesn’t say anything and that was the last straw for seungkwan and he grabs soonyoung’s arm, both of them making their way to the couch where you were busy chatting.

“okay, so we’re getting sushi”, rania announces and everyone cheers. you guys headed to the sushi place, wonwoo, you, rania and skye in one car and seungkwan and soonyoung following behind in the car they rented. you reach the sushi place and you guys sit inside. it seemed like today was your lucky day because you didn’t see any paps around or didn’t anyone seem to recognise you. you all took a seat while wonwoo told you that he’d wait by the car. you asked him (while rania almost yelled at him to join us) but he was stern about staying by the car. you let him be because you didn’t want to inconvenience him at the end of the day. you weren’t going to cross his boundaries if he didn’t want to. you finish your sushi date and come home happy and satisfied.

later that week, you get to meet with jeonghan, your father’s lawyer, to see how things are going regarding your father’s trial.

“so mr. jeon has been telling me you haven’t been going to college? i know things have been bad but missing classes in your last semester is not the thing to be doing”, jeonghan tells.

“he’s reporting to you now is he?”, you ask, your brow raised. “well i did hire him”, he adds.

“i’m not missing classes on purpose…it’s just that”, you start sighing. “they told me i can’t graduate because of everything happening and father’s controversy. something about damaging the institution’s reputation”, you tell and jeonghan sits up straighter.

“why didn’t you tell me anything before?”, jeonghan asks.

“i was going to! but then it just slipped my mind, and i know you’ve been busy too”, you add, hoping to redeem yourself.

jeonghan gives you a knowing look. “yn this is no small matter, i will look into this and make sure you can graduate. this is a ridiculous thing to do”, he tells and you nod in approval. “thanks” , you tell and he nods.

“how are you finding your bodyguard?”, jeonghan asks and you already sigh.

“he’s so…i don’t know, he’s so good at what he does but also kinda intimidating. he barely speaks it feels like i’m talking to a wall half the time”, you tell, chuckling. “but he’s cute”, you add, that tiny detail making jeonghan laugh.

“i think it’ll take some time to befriend him but i’m on it”, you add and jeonghan gives you a look. “just don’t get too close”, he adds with a warning.

you were at the library today, you needed an escape and books seemed like the perfect solace right now. you’re wearing a simple outfit, black jeans with a purple top and a jacket on top because somehow even though the sun was up, the air was chilly and windy. you’re busy arranging the books that have been borrowed back in their rightful places, already knowing which book and genre goes where. wonwoo follows you around silently while you’re aimlessly talking to him about each book you pick up and put back on the shelf, offering him information about it - if you had read it, if it was on your TBR, if it was good, bad or worth a read. wonwoo seemed to be listening to you keenly. you grab the next book, and start telling wonwoo about it.

“i read this book years ago and i still love it to this date, the characters were so funny. but if i’m being honest the guy in this book was kinda an ass”, you add, as you locate the book’s spot on the shelf that was all the way at the top. you went on your tiptoes to reach it, trying to place it but missed. “and now that i’m older, the girl in the book was also a bit stupid you know, like-” you continue, but you feel wonwoo come up behind you and see his hand reach out, taking the book from your outstretched arm and placing in on the shelf with ease. you turn around, looking up at wonwoo, who is now so close to you.

“why do you think the character was stupid?”, he asks, looking at you curiously. you blink up at him before answering, your mind suddenly distracted as you try to form a coherent sentence. “you know like-it was young love and-uh and they did-some stupid things-that um-i only realised when i got older-”, you stutter out, a flustered mess as you continue to look up at wonwoo. he looked so pretty up close and you could smell his cologne, which only made you want to lean into his presence. you feel your cheeks heat up as you look at him, starting to get lost in his eyes, his gaze. the way he looked at you like nothing else mattered to him apart from you made your heart race. you could feel your heart thumping loudly against your chest as you opened your mouth to speak again but closed it as no words came out. you step to the side, trying to create some distance between wonwoo, but you end up tripping on the stool that was placed there, almost falling, but wonwoo is quick to catch you, his arms catching your waist as he pulls your body against his.

“watch where you step”, wonwoo says as he holds you, and you’re acutely aware of how his hands feel on your body, the way he holds you, strong but gentle. and the way he’s looking at you makes your mind seem to go blank and the faint feeling of butterflies erupts in your stomach. “t-thanks”, you quickly say before you straighten out and stand on your own. you quickly grab a book from the cart and turn around, trying to calm your over-excited heart as you pretend to walk ahead before wonwoo calls out for you.

“isn’t the historical section that way?”, he asks and you look at the book in your hand. it was a historical book indeed. you huff out a breath and turn around, speed walking past wonwoo as you find the shelf and put the book back in place as you mutter to yourself about why wonwoo had to be so attentive, observant and stupidly attractive.

today is your father’s first trial and you were nervous,. even though jeonghan told you that you didn’t have to come, you wanted to. you knew your father needed your support right now, regardless of how rocky your relationship has been with him. so here you were in the car, nervous, while wonwoo was well, calm. but it was nice, having a calm energy near you, it sort of grounded you.

you turn the corner to the court and god, it was crowded. people had surrounded the road and courthouse, media and paparazzi waiting to snap photos and cover the event. you realised how serious this was and what it would mean if your father was found guilty, shit.

you observed the crowd, ducking down in your seat a little, already feeling overwhelmed. you hated crowds, especially crowds like this. you knew it wasn’t the good type of crowd and the sense of dread was already pooling in your stomach. maybe you should just turn the car around and go home. your hand is anxiously playing with the ring on your finger and as the car pulls up to the entrance to the courthouse, you can hear the screams and yells of people and see the flashes of light go off as the media take photos.

you gulp, anxious and the car comes to a halt. wonwoo swiftly gets down and he is quick to open your side of the car. it takes you a second to get out and the minute you get out, people surround you even more. If it wasn’t for the police barricade and wonwoo beside you, you were sure you’d have been trampled.

wonwoo is swift as he guides you inside, making sure no one touches you. he envelopes his other hand around your shoulder, but doesn’t touch you, having a gentleman’s hand while he guides you and you’re relieved once you step inside the building and the yells of people die down. you enter the trial room and take a seat. you spot your father and jeonghan and give them a small smile. your father - well he looked tired. you were just hoping jeonghan could get him through this because you don’t know what you were going to do otherwise.

the prosecution was really piling up all sorts of accusations against your father, but jeonghan was well prepared and defended whatever was coming up. firstly, according to what jeonghan had mentioned, there was no evidence or even if there was it could have been tampered with. the anonymous said person who was said to have tipped off the police with the evidence could not be trusted. jeonghan insisted that this person testify in court and that this anonymous person should be brought in for questioning.

by the time the first trial is done, it’s already been four hours. the next trial would be held in a few days where witnesses will be brought forward to testify. but from the hush talks in the room after the court was adjourned, you could tell no one was really on your father's side. your father’s company stocks had dropped, brand deals were pulling out and things were obviously not in your father’s favour at all. you were going to try everything in your power to bring your father’s company back up again and prove to everyone that he was indeed innocent. because there’s no way he would have done those things, right?

as you manage to locate jeonghan, who sits down with you for a bit, he tells you about a message from your father.

“you know the annual business charity club ball that your father attends every year right”, jeonghan says. “yeah”, you tell.

“well, obviously since you father cannot go this year, he’s asked you to go in his place”, jeonghan finishes and you give him a look.

“me? you know i hate that event”, you tell.

“but it’s been planned and it cannot be cancelled, not even in this situation. so, you’re going and it’s final. i will text you the location and date later. but please go, atleast for your father’s sake. he’s losing a lot of people right now so if you could try to restore people’s faith and trust in you and your father, it would be helpful”, jeonghan tells.

“fine, i guess that’s the least i can do”, you tell as you look at jeonghan. “is he okay? he’ll be okay right?”, you ask and jeonghan nods. “he should be, i’m doing everything in my power to defend him”, jeonghan answers.

you exit the meeting room with jeonghan and he takes off, saying he has to arrange some documents for the next trial. you weren’t able to meet your father because they didn’t allow you to right now which was a stupid rule. you walk out and you’re looking around for wonwoo but don't see him. and in your search for him, you make the mistake of walking towards the entrance, where the media people were. they spot you and in a second you’re surrounded, with people shoving cameras and mics in your face, bombarding you with questions, all talking over each other as you panic. you try to move but they follow you and soon, you’re being pushed outside and the people outside start yelling when they see you. someone shoves you and you lose your balance, almost falling as someone else grabs your left hand. you yelp out in pain as they yank your hand and just then you feel a figure come up behind you - wonwoo. his hand embraces your shoulder this time, as he holds out another hand to block people. you can feel the hand holding yours let go as wonwoo pries it off you and he pushes people back and people actually do move back because wonwoo meant business. he guides you to the car and you sit, finally away from the crowd. it’s only when you see wonwoo up front at the drivers seat that you realise you were sitting in the passenger seat behind. you didn’t mind though. wonwoo is swift to take a seat and you can feel him look at you through the rearview mirror. he doesn’t say anything, but starts the car and drives.

by the time you get back home, it’s late, already hitting 10:30pm. it’s only when you are inside does wonwoo finally speak.

“it’s dangerous for you to go out alone”, he says, standing in front of you as you put you bag onto the countertop.

“i was looking for you but i couldn’t find you, i didn’t mean to wander off alone like that”, you try to explain. “it was all too sudden, i really didn’t know what to do”, you add.

“just wait for me next time”, he asks,

“but where were you?”, you counter.

“i was at the east wing door, waiting for you to finish talking but when i looked inside, you weren’t there.

“oh, i think i exited from the door on the other side, that’s why”, you tell.

"if you don’t see me, call me next time, please”, he says and you nod in understanding.

wonwoo’s eyes glance down to your hand, the slightest marks of a bruise visible. “is your hand okay?”, he asks, taking a step forward to examine it further. “yeah, it’s fine, it’s-”, you stop as you look at your hand, only to see it bare. your ring, it wasn’t there. you look down on the floor, thinking it must've fallen there but it’s not. your other hand caresses your empty hand where the ring used to be, hoping that it wasn’t really missing but you don’t feel it. you don’t feel the ring. you feel the panic start to set in as you realise what’s just happened. fuck. then it hits you, the courtroom. it must've been pulled off when your hand was grabbed. you had to go back there, you had to look for it.

“we have to go back”, you tell wonwoo, as you step forward, but wonwoo is quick to stop you.

“yn, it’s late”, he tells sternly.

“no you don’t understand, i lost my ring, it must’ve fallen there, i need to find it”, you tell frantically and wonwoo doesn’t understand why you’ve become so worked up over a ring.

“it’s just a ring yn, you can get another one”, he tells and you snap your head up at him, visibly upset. just a ring?

“it’s not just a ring wonwoo”, you tell, tears prickling in your eyes. “you wouldn’t understand, fuck, i have to-i have to find it”, you tell again but wonwoo’s hand is firm as he holds you back again.

“yn”, he says. “no we need to go now”, you yell, pulling your arm loose from his grip “i’ll go myself”, you counter, trying to reach for the car keys on the counter but wonwoo pulls your hand away.

“yn we’ll go later alright”, he tells. “no no no we need to go now”, you yell again, a tear escaping your eyes, rolling down your cheeks slowly. your vision gets blurry and you move back, panic setting in. fuck how could you lose your mothers precious ring.

“no no no, this can’t be happening”, you mumble. you try to feel for your ring again, hoping that it was all just a misunderstanding, but your finger was empty. you don’t hear wonwoo calling out to you as you ears start ringing and your eyes fill with tears again. “i’m such an idiot how could i lose it”, you tell yourself, beating yourself up over the incident.

wonwoo realised you were having a panic attack, and he also realised that what he said could have been triggering. “yn”, says, coming towards you and you feel the weight of his hands on your shoulders as he looks down at you and you look up at him, a few more tears rolling down your cheeks. “we’ll find your ring okay”, he says, his voice somehow grounding you back to reality. “i promise we’ll go back to find it, but not right now.”, he adds. another tear rolls down your cheek as you sniffle, looking up at wonwoo, feeling helpless. “we’ll find it right”, you ask, your voice barely a whisper. “we will”, he assures.

wonwoo guides you to the couch and is quick to fetch you a glass of water. surprisingly, he takes a seat next to you, pushing the glass of water to you. you see him reach for something in his jacket pocket and then he reaches his hand out, offering it to you, his handkerchief. you gladly take the handkerchief and dab your cheeks dry, wiping your tears and sniffling as you try to calm down. wonwoo watches as you raise the glass to your lips and take a sip of water. there is silence between you both, unsure of what to say. you close your eyes for a few seconds, trying to gather yourself and your thoughts.

“i’m sorry”, you mumble out, feeling bad at lashing out at wonwoo and maybe a little embarrassed about crying in front of him. you hated people seeing you cry.

“i should be sorry, it was insensitive of me to say that”, he says, as he watches you take another sip of water. you put the glass down, looking at your finger where your ring adorned it.

“it was my mother’s ring”, you tell quietly after a few moments of silence. “after she passed away, it was the only token i had to remember her by”, you tell softly, lifting you head up to see wonwoo’s gaze soften as he looks at you. “it’s the only thing i have left of her”, you say, feeling yourself tear up again as you shift your gaze back down to your lap. you look back up at wonwoo and there’s something different about him, a softness in his gaze, his expression and language. “i’m sorry to hear about your mother”, he tells. you offer him a small smile. “it’s okay, i’ve come to terms with it, besides i was really young when it happened”, you add.

you glance at the clock on the wall, seeing the time and releasing that it was late, that it was past wonwoo’s working hours. “oh”, you say softly as your eyes glance at wonwoo and back to the clock. “i’m sorry if i held you back”, you say, referring to the time. wonwoo quickly checks the time on the wristwatch adorning his hand before he looks back up at you.

“i can stay, if you want me to”, he adds. “are you sure?”, you ask, unsure. he nods. “just another hour then”, you ask and he gives you a yes. deep down you were glad he was staying back. you didn’t think you could handle being alone right now, especially after what happened.

there are a few more seconds of silence before wonwoo speaks, suggesting that you should eat dinner perhaps, considering you hadn’t really had a proper lunch either, being too anxious about your father’s trial.

“i need a burger”, you tell after a few minutes of silence. “do you want me to place a delivery order for you?”, wonwoo asks. you shake your head. “no they don’t deliver, we’ll have to go there”, you tell and wonwoo looks unsure for a second. “it’s closeby, i’ll show you the way”, you tell, already standing up.

you both get in the car and you show wonwoo the directions as he drives. you come by the place and park and you’re about to get out when wonwoo stops you.

“wait, let me surf the area, see if anyone is there”, wonwoo tells, opening his door and stepping out. by anyone he meant the paparazzi of course. he walks ahead a bit, his eyes searching the area for anyone suspicious and that’s when you spot a girl sitting by the bench on the side looking at wonwoo. you knew what that look meant. wonwoo comes up by your window and you lower the glass, peeking out. you glance at the girl and then wonwoo, a laugh escaping your lips at your thoughts.

“what’s wrong?”, wonwoo asks, alert.

“that girl over there is totally checking you out”, you tell and wonwoo seems unfazed by this piece of information.

“i see three paparazzi, seems like they followed us. i suggest that you stay in the car and let me get you a takeaway”, wonwoo tells.

“that girl is totally going to ask for your number”, you add and wonwoo blinks at you.

“she won’t”, he tells, dismissing your claims.

“she totally will”, you counter and he raises a brow at you.

“wanna make a bet”, you ask. “if you lose you have to buy me ice cream”, you tell.

“what do you want me to get for you”, wonwoo asks, resting his hand on the car window.

“get me the grilled burger with fries and extra sauce”, you tell, handing wonwoo your card. wonwoo takes it as you tell him not to forget the extra sauce, adding that he should get something for himself too.

after about ten minutes, wonwoo comes into sight and just as you predicted, the girl sitting on the bench stands up and engages in a conversation with wonwoo. however, it’s short lived and wonwoo is making his way towards your car and the dejected look on the girl’s face tells you everything you need to know. wonwoo gets in the driver’s seat with the bag of food, which smelled divine, tingling your senses already.

“she asked for you number didn’t she”, you tell, teasing him a little.

“she did not”, wonwoo tells and you fake gasp.

“she totally did, i read her lips”, you state and wonwoo shakes his head and gives in, amused.

“you owe me ice cream”, you state proudly, grinning at wonwoo.

“on what occasion?”, he asks.

“because you lost the bet”, you state.

“i remember making no such deal”, he tells, like he’s teasing you, as he hands you back your card.

“whatever, just know i’ll extort this ice cream out of you one day”, you tell as you reach for the bag food.

you eat your burger in joy, proud that wonwoo in fact did not forget the extra sauce.

“did you not get anything?”, you ask, as you chew, looking at wonwoo.

“i will eat something at home, thank you for the concern”, he says. “don’t be like that!”, you tell, offering him a fry but he politely declines that too.

after you’ve devoured your burger and fries, you sigh content. “that was a good meal”, you tell, satisfied. “if only i could get a desert now”, you tell, implying to wonwoo.

“but i guess we should go, an hour is going to be up”, you tell. wonwoo steps out of the car and you’re about to ask him what he’s doing when he walks over to your side and opens the door for you.

“did you not want your ice cream?”, he asks and you look around before wonwoo tells you that the paps left. you smile and step out, happily walking up to the ice cream parlour that was right next to the burger joint. another hidden gem that served the best ice cream and sundaes.

you walk inside and sit in the corner booth all the way at the end. it gave you some privacy and was cozy. you don’t even glance at the menu before you’re telling wonwoo what you want. “a chocolate brownie fudge delight please”, you tell, grinning up at wonwoo who’s looking at you confused as he glances at the menu on the table, his eyes searching for the item you’ve just named.

“but that has two scoops of vanilla and two scoops of chocolate ice cream”, he tells. you only look at him, confused. “and a whole brownie with chocolate sauce and nuts”, he adds, like he’s questioning you.

“so?”, you ask.

“are you going to eat the whole thing?”, he asks and you scoff.

“do not underestimate my ice cream eating abilities wonwoo”, you tell offended and just then the waitress comes, taking your order.

your sundae comes and you’re already smiling but when you take that first bite, it’s heaven and you sigh again, content with life right now. wonwoo looks at you like he’s still unsure that you can finish it.

“do you want a bite? it’s really good”, you ask, pushing the bowl towards him. he politely declines again and you give him a look.

“you know, you should live life more, because you only live once”, you tell, as you put another spoonful of ice cream in your mouth. “i mean of course if you’re allergic to nuts or lactose intolerant then that’s a totally different story, but otherwise if someone tells me that they don’t eat or don’t like ice cream, i wouldn’t trust them you know. because how can you not like ice cream? it’s like one of the best things to have been created. if you don’t like ice cream then there’s a serious problem”, you ramble on to wonwoo, who’s sitting opposite you, listening to you keenly.

“also you should really talk more, i feel like i’m talking to myself half the time because you never say anything or you're always finishing your sentences in two or five words”, you tell, oblivious to the fact there was chocolate sauce on the side of your lip. “we need to come to some sort of understanding because-”, you stop mid sentence as wonwoo’s hand reaches out to wipe the corner of your mouth gently. you stare at him for a couple of seconds before the weight of his actions hits you and you start coughing, flustered. wonwoo is quick to pour you a glass of water and offer it to you.

“are you okay?, he asks, looking worried and you nod. “y-yeah”, you respond, suddenly feeling shy. you eat another spoonful of the ice cream, looking down at the bowl as you chew, feeling your cheeks heat up and you glance back up at wonwoo, whose eyes are still trained on you, and he’s looking at you deeply like he’s trying to decipher what’s going on in your mind. the way he looked at you, god, it made you feel things.

“we’ll find my ring right”, you ask again as you take the last bite of your sundae.

“i assure you that i will try my best to find it”, he replies. silence engulfs you both again.

“thank you for today”, you tell. “it was a nice distraction or change from the situation”, you tell, feeling grateful. you check the time on your phone and let out a small gasp at the time.

“oops, i guess i kept you for two hours instead of one”, you tell. “that’s not an issue”, he says. “if you ever need me, i’m always here”, he adds and somehow the way he says it feels soft, like this was his way of initiating friendship, telling you that he was indeed human and there was a sincerity in the way he said it.

“thank you”, you say, giving him a genuine smile. wonwoo drops you off at home and then leaves, bidding you goodnight. you lay in bed, replaying the events of today in your head, thinking about wonwoo. even if he perhaps looked a bit cold and indifferent, he was actually really sweet, quiet, soft and gentle. you feel a blush creep up your cheeks as you think about what he did earlier and you turn over, burying your face into the pillow, letting out an annoyed groan as you kick your feet in the air.

you don’t sleep well that night, your mind wandering to your mother’s ring and all your thoughts filled with finding it. you would find it right? you wake up at an ungodly hour and still restless before falling asleep in the early hours of the morning. when you wake up, you sleepily walk out and see a cup of takeaway coffee from your favourite cafe waiting for you. you glance at wonwoo and then at the cup of coffee.

“i thought you might want some coffee”, he fills in. “oh god i did need some coffee, thank you wonwoo”, you tell, taking a sip, grateful for his sweet gesture.

“when can we go find my ring? i really have to find it, i’ll never forgive myself otherwise”, you say, putting the coffee back on the counter as you go on a sleepy rant when wonwoo steps forward and holds out his hand. he opens it and lo and behold, your ring is there. your jaw drops and you look up at wonwoo.

“no way. you found it, you really found it”, you tell as you take the ring, examining it like you were making sure it was really yours before slipping it back on your finger.

you’re so happy and you jump at wonwoo, hugging him, “thank you thank you thank you”, you chant, feeling so relieved right now, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. that’s when you realise what you were doing, making you step back abruptly, clearing your throat. “i mean, thank you”, you tell again, as you compose yourself. he gives you an appreciative nod and a small smile and you feel your stomach do a little somersault.

a week later the next trial is being held. you didn’t go for this one, but you got updates from jeonghan and of course the news. the headlines about your father were also ridiculous, but you were used to it at this point really. it’s like the whole world was against your father right now, everyone hated him and you of course. people were angry and demanding justice and jail time, saying he stole taxpayers' money and that he owned the people back, that he should rot in jail for the rest of his life. you shake your head and open your front door to go water your garden when you see another small box on your doorstep. you had been getting these all week. they were threats and normally you should have been scared. but you thought it was a harmless joke. you’d gotten countless threats on the internet so you just assumed it was someone having some fun. shrugging it off, you decided to not tell wonwoo about this.

the weird boxes continue to come, but you realise that they got progressively worse each time, the last two even had death threats, and threats about breaking into your house, but yet again, you didn’t take it seriously. you woke up later today, having trusted wonwoo with your house code so he could enter and start his duty and not have to wake you up at 7am every day.

when you walk to the living area, wonwoo is there. “good morning”, he greets and you yawn, waving at him. “you got a parcel”, he tells and you look at the counter, recognising the box. “shit not another one”, you mumble but wonwoo is sharp to hear it.

you open it, and this time it’s a bunch of your photos, cut up weirdly. but the worst part, your heads were cut off in all of them and there was a cryptic message too. wonwoo comes forward, sees the letter and is quick to look at you. he reaches out for the letter, taking it from your hand before you can hide it and his eyes scan over the contents of the letter, his jaw clenched.

“this isn't okay”, he says. “it probably isn’t a big deal wonwoo, i’ve been getting them all week”, you blurt out, before realising it and you can feel wonwoo’s gaze get more intense.

“what? and you didn’t think to tell me?”, he asks firmly. “i didn’t want to make big deal out it, it’s probably harmless, i get stuff like this all the time online”, you tell.

“but this isn’t online”, he says, emphasizing his words.”and it's always not a big deal until something actually happens yn, this is dangerous”, he tells, clearly upset about this, raising his voice slightly.

he makes you show him all the mail and he looks stressed to say the least. “yn you should have told me about this”, he says, stressed. “how am i supposed to protect you if i don’t know about things like this”, he adds and you can feel his eyes drill into you.

“i’m sorry wonwoo”, you say, feeling bad.

“well, it is a big deal and action will be taken”, he says. “they know your address yn, do a lot of people know your address, where you live?”, he asks, making you think and that’s when you realise. “oh”, you say. “i mean paps are around my house all the time”, you tell.

“but this isn’t a pap”, he tells. “it means this person has been following you around”, he says. “you mean like stalking?”, you ask. “yes exactly”, he tells. you gulp, suddenly realising the weight of the situation.

wonwoo looked stressed the entire day even though you told him not to worry and that you’d karate chop anyone who came near you. he didn’t laugh at your joke, obviously, just keeping a straight face. that night, wonwoo seems apprehensive to leave, worried about the threats you were getting, but you assured him that you were going to be okay, that you were going to lock all your doors and windows and sleep.

the letters and threats keep coming, each getting more violent and wonwoo doesn’t like it one bit. “we need to put some cctvs around your house”, he tells you. you argue that you don’t really need it, but he insists, and to be honest, in the long run, it could be useful so you cave in and he informs you that he’ll make the arrangements.

that night, you’re lying in bed, busy watching a show on your laptop. it was late, but you couldn’t sleep so here you were, catching up on a tv show. but that’s when you hear a noise from outside. you shrug it off and continue watching when your phone pings.

i can see you

what the fuck. you get up and try to look out the window, not seeing anything, but that’s when you hear a noise and you see the shadow of someone on the wall. it moves swiftly and you take a step back, scared. your phone pings again.

looking for me?

you swear you feel a shiver run down your spine. you hear a rattle on your window outside and you gasp, anxious as you tiptoe your way there and you swear you hear a laugh, making you jump.

did i scare you?

another text reads and you gulp, backing up. fuck.

you scramble to unlock your phone and you dial wonwoo, not knowing who else to call. he doesn’t pick up on the first go and you hear the heavy boots of someone outside before you hear your glass window break, a stone getting thrown inside. you dial wonwoo again and he picks up.

“wonwoo, fuck, there’s someone here, i think they’re trying to break in”, you tell in a panic and the phone gets disconnected as you yelp in pain as a small stone from outside that hits your hand, breaking the window furthur as glass shatters everywhere. you hand stings and you clutch your hand as you try to ground yourself. you start panicking, and getting anxious, tears brimming in your eyes. your phone slips from your hand, landing with a thud on the ground. you try to reach out for it but end up getting cut from the glass you couldn’t see in the dark. you suck in a breath as you feel the sharp cut burn and you move back as you sink to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest, hiding under the dining table. what if wonwoo didn’t come you thought as a tear escaped you. you had to get yourself together. but then another stone gets thrown shattering your already broken window. shit, what if someone came in right now. this wasn’t good. your thoughts only add fuel to your panic and you just try to huddle under the table, your hands shaking.

you don’t know how much time passed and you don’t even hear your front door open as wonwoo runs in. “yn?”, he calls out. your house was still dark and you can hear the crunch of glass as he steps on it with his boots, cursing under his breath.

he calls your phone which had fallen down, as it lights up and rings. “yn?”, he calls out again, an edge to his voice, seeing your phone that was discarded on the floor. you raise your head, accidentally hitting it on the top and you wince. you hear wonwoo’s feet shuffle around and he bends down, finally locating you. he offers you his hand and helps you up, which you gladly take. he’s quick to assess your state, guiding you to your bedroom because of all the glass that’s scattered on the floor. he locates the switch and turns on the light and you wince a bit from the sudden intrusion of light. you sit down and wonwoo sits beside you. “are you okay? are you hurt?”, he asks, looking at you carefully before he spots the cut on your hand, bleeding badly. you don’t know how he found your first aid kid, probably his super senses. wonwoo’s sitting next to you as he aids to your cut. he gently holds your hand. “it’s going to burn a bit okay”, he says before he dabs the cut and you wince when the disinfectant comes in contact with your cut, the sting burning and you close your eyes. he wipes it a few more times before letting it dry a bit and covering it with a bandaid. he can tell you’re still pretty shaken up, in a state of shock because of how quiet you are and the way your eyes are still glossed over and teary.

“it’s okay, we caught the person”, he says, trying to help you ease up. “he was running away just as i came and i caught him. he’s with the police right now, but you’ll have to go to the station to answer some questions tomorrow”, he explains.

“he’s gone?”, you ask and he nods and you feel yourself relax a little. you were okay. it was going to be okay.

“i thought you weren’t going to come”, you mumble out. “i would come running for you”, he says, making you look at him. his gaze is soft as he looks at you. “really?”, you ask, softly as you start to get lost in his gaze. “yes”, he says as he holds your gaze.

once everything is settled, he stands in front of you. it was 1am now. “i’ll see you tomorrow then”, he said and he turned around to leave when you grab the end of his shirt sleeve. he turns around, looking down to his hand that you held onto his sleeve before he looks up at you. “can you stay?”, you ask softly, peering up at him. “i’m a little scared”, you add softly, your hand still tugging on the end of his sleeve. “but if you have to go, i understand,” you tell, reluctantly letting go of his sleeve. “i’ll see you tomorrow anyway”, you tell, feeling like you don’t want to burden wonwoo anymore.

“it’s okay, i can stay”, he says.

you tell wonwoo to sleep in the guest bedroom, practically dragging him there because he said he’d sleep on the couch. there was no way he was going to sleep on the couch, especially after the windows got broken there. wonwoo was a bit stubborn, but he finally gives in after you threaten to lock him in if he doesn’t listen to you.

you say a small goodnight before you retreat back into your own room. you fall asleep, only to be awoken as you suddenly feel hot. your head is heavy and you don’t feel good. you needed water. you stand up, feeling a little dizzy before you steady yourself and open your door, heading to the kitchen. you turn on the light and reach out to fetch glass from the counter but your grip falters and it falls to the ground, shattering. you curse under your breath. you’re about to bend down to clean it up but you hear wonwoo call out for you.

“yn?”, he asks as he steps into view, taking in the sight of you and the broken glass. he’s prompt to walk closer. “are you okay?”, he asks. “yeah, it just slipped”, you tell softly. his gaze on your lingers before he’s swift to pick you up and place you on the counter and you don’t even have the chance to protest about it. “let me clean this up okay”, he tells and is quick to remove all the glass and neatly sweep the area. your head is throbbing and you don’t feel too good, your head feeling heavy.

“are you okay?”, wonwoo asks again, observing you keenly and he can tell that something is off about you, that you don’t look okay. “y-yeah”, you say softly, answering him. “you can tell me if something is bothering you yn, i’m here for you”, he adds, his eyes still trained on you and you feel utterly exposed when he looks at you like that, like he can tell exactly what you were thinking and feeling. you gulp.

“i-i don’t feel too good”, you finally admit.

he raises his hand to gently press the back of his hand to your forehead and you watch how his eyebrows furrow.

"yn you’re burning up”, wonwoo says, checking your temperature again. you hop down from the counter, not listening to wonwoo as his arm comes up to wrap around your waist to steady you as you stumble slightly.

“yn, you need to get back to bed”, he instructs, a worried edge to his voice. before you know it, he’s scooping you up in his arms and carrying you bridal style back to the bedroom and you don’t have it in your to say anything as he gently lays you down, adjusting your pillow for you. he’s quick to fetch you a glass of water. he asks you if you have any fever or headache medication and you shake your head lightly indicating that you didn’t have any. he tells you he’ll be back, that he’s just going to the pharmacy around the corner and you lay in bed, under the covers. the throbbing in your head only gets worse and you start to tear up. you fall asleep for a few minutes but awaken when you hear wonwoo’s softly call out to you. you turn around, sniffling and wonwoo can tell you were crying, his expression softening as he sits down next to you.

he helps you take the medication for your fever, telling you that it is going to be okay, that he was right here. your hand brushes against his as you lay as you slowly fall asleep. you feel when his hand move and you reach out, grabbing onto his fingers. “stay, please”, you mumble, half asleep, holding onto his hand as you finally fall asleep.

you wake up in the morning and feel a bit better, sitting up. you’re about to get up when wonwoo enters, spotting you awake. “how are you feeling?”, he asks. “a bit better”, you tell, still feeling a little tired.

“i’m sorry for keeping you up”, you add softly, looking at him. “you can take the day off today, i’m just gonna be at home”, you add.

“it’s not an issue”, he fills in. “i got you some rice porridge, you should eat some and take the medication again”, wonwoo informs. he offers to bring it to you but you decline, saying you wanted to get out of bed anyway. he’s a little hesitant but walks with you to the dining table where he brings the bowl of porridge to you.

you nibble on a few bites of the food, wonwoo keenly watching you and you feel like you’re being stripped bare again by the way he looks at you. “sorry if i kept you awake”, you tell, feeling a little bad.

“don’t apologise yn, i’m more than happy to be around and help”, he says.

after you eat a bit and take your medication, you sleep for a bit more, while wonwoo arranges for your windows to get fixed. you wake up after a few hours and you walk out. wonwoo is there, talking to one of the workers before he spots you in the corner of his eye. he’s dressed in rather casual clothes compared to his daily suits. today was just trousers with a shirt and blazer jacket. he still managed to look good. you were sure he would look good in everything. but the one thing you noticed was his hair, it was down, his bangs falling over his head. and somehow it softened his look, he looked so pretty. wonwoo makes his way towards you, greeting you.

“sorry if all the noise woke you up”, he says as he takes in your appearance.

“it’s okay, i was up anyway", you say.

“they’re almost done”, he adds and you retreat back to your room, crashing in bed as you cuddle your pillow and you’re falling asleep again.

later that week, wonwoo was extra tight on security, he installed cctv cameras outside and the guy who was stalking you was put on a restraining order and fined. jeonghan had also messaged you about all the details about the charity business ball you had to attend in your fathers place. he said going to the ball would sort of put in a good word about your father while jeonghan was working on the trials, even though everything still looked uncertain as ever and the hate for your father just got worse.

the only thing you hated more than parties were parties that were held in the middle of nowhere. your dad always hosted this party at this venue in the middle of nowhere really, far from the city, saying the change of scenery added to the value and taste of the ball. you’d never gone to this charity business ball he’d hosted even though he’d invite you. you hated parties and all the people that came with it. it was tiresome and you’d much rather be at the comfort of your own home.

the charity ball was the news of the week, everyone was covering this and you’d bet some media people were going to be there being their nosy selves as usual. you end up meeting with your usual stylist - hwasa and she’s more than happy to curate a bunch of outfits for you to try on and see which one works for the event. wonwoo accompanies you, standing in the corner of the room while you try on the twelfth dress, already exhausted by the whole process.

but out of all the dresses you tried, you’d liked this one the best. it was a white satin dress with full sleeves and you loved it. it fits you the best too. you step out, looking for hwasa but she’s not there, probably gone to get a few more dresses. you see wonwoo, his eyes catching yours and you see the way they change, widening a little before going back to his stoic expression.

“how do i look?”, you ask wonwoo, looking at him expectantly. he clears his throat before speaking. “you look pretty”, he says and you give him a look. “just pretty? you have to give me more wonwoo. how do we like it from the other dresses?”, you ask, prodding him.

“it’s the best fit compared to the others and compliments you well”, he adds. “right! i thought so too!”, you tell, smiling. just then hwasa appears, smiling as she sees you. “this is the one”, she says as she looks at you and you do a little twirl for her. “yup, let's go with this one”, you tell.

you decide to get an outfit for wonwoo too, you wanted him to look good so you send him with hwasa to get him an outfit, even though he said that he was alright, you insisted.

after the day is over, you head home, tired. the charity ball was on the weekend and it was already wednesday. you were not looking forward to this at all but you were only doing it for your father’s sake. and after all, the company was going to come into your hands later so you might as well show them who you are and what you were capable of, right?

you were supposed to ideally leave on friday night to the venue and stay at a hotel nearby, but you were nervous and somehow at last minute, the hotel you booked cancelled on you, so you just decided to go on the same evening, except it would be a three hour drive. you’re a frantic mess that morning. from going to hwasa’s studio to get your makeup and hair done, and you go back home, leaving from there after changing. the only hitch was they didn’t have the shoes you chose in your size even though it was ordered but it didn’t come on time, so now you were stuck with shoes that were a tad bit tight, but you had to put up with it in the name of fashion.

you’re all ready and you hear a knock on your door. “the car is ready, i’ll be waiting outside”, you hear wonwoo tell.

"i'll be there in a minute", you yell out as you quickly check your appearance in the mirror before you head out. it was going to be okay hopefully, but you couldn’t help the feeling of dread already pooling in your stomach. you give yourself a smile in the mirror before walking out, your shoes already starting to feel uncomfortable. you have your small handbag with your stuff and grab your house key, locking up before turning around and your jaw almost drops on the floor because holy shit.

wonwoo. he looked gorgeous. he was wearing a black turtleneck paired with a black blazer. his hair was styled but over his forehead and he was wearing glasses. god. you stand there for a whole 30 seconds just staring at wonwoo because wow, he looks so hot right now. you’re not even looking when you take the next step, completely misplacing where you put your foot, tripping down the step but you feel a pair of hands grab your waist, steadying you as wonwoo is quick to catch you. your hands are draped on wonwoo as you look up at him and suddenly he’s so close and he smells so good. you can smell his cologne and it just draws you in more. you’re staring at wonwoo, surprised and your eyes flicker down to his lips for a split second before glancing back up.

“woah are you okay”, he asks, worried as he helps you get back on your feet, his hands still lingering around your waist.

“y-yeah”, you mumble out, clearing your throat, and you’re acutely aware of his hands on your body again, making your cheeks heat up. your hand is still clutching wonwoo’s hand before you pull your hand away, gulping as you look down.

you sit behind because your dress needs space so it won’t crease and you glance at wonwoo occasionally as he drives, his side profile is so pretty. he looked pretty hot with glasses and you were suddenly wondering why he didn’t wear them more often. you shift your legs and feel a dull pinch in your feet as you look at your heels. you’d have ideally removed them in the car but it had the most confusing way to tie them up and they’d been tied nicely already. you didn’t want to ruin that so you let it be, sighing. but little did you know that wonwoo would also occasionally look back at you through the rearview mirror. he thought you looked gorgeous tonight.

the car ride is silent except for some soft music playing and your mind starts wandering to the event, trying to prepare yourself for what was to come.

you can tell you’re close when you see all the lights and the venue up front along with the bunch of cars. you take a deep breath, trying to ease your nervousness. your nerves start to hit you more as the car stands in line to walk to the red carpet. you can hear the people, the fans and see the countless media and news reporters who’ve come to cover the event.

soon it’s your turn to walk the red carpet and get to the ball. you’re so nervous that your hands are almost shaking and you hate it. you hate the flashes and the crowd already. the car comes to a halt and wonwoo gets down, rushing to your side and opening the door for you. now that the door was open, all the noise was amplified. you take a breath before you see wonwoo offer his hand to you and you look up at him, the look of panic evident on your face as you get up, and wonwoo can feel the way your hand shakes in his, giving you a small but somewhat comforting squeeze as you put on a fake smile as you step out. you walk ahead, posing for a few pictures before you walk ahead, wonwoo walking behind you.

you get in and you’re greeted by a bunch of people, some you know, some you don’t. most of them were your father’s business partners, people he worked with or were friends and relatives. the rest were just invited for courtesy.

you’re offered a glass of champagne as you enter and you take it, and walk ahead. but as you walk you can feel everyone’s eyes on you, you can feel the weight of their gazes and they all talk in hushed voices as you walk past. you see your father’s friends and go up to them, greeting him.

“hello”, you say nicely and they greet you but are rather hostile. they make small remarks about your father and his situation, joking about not wanting to be seen with you as to protect their reputation. they’re laughing as you’re just standing there, trying not to lose it as you excuse yourself and walk away. your father really had shitty friends, you had to say that. you turn around and spot wonwoo to the side of the room at the back, along with all the other bodyguards as his eyes find yours. you give him a small smile and he nods, smiling ever so softly.

you walk around and talk around to a few people, some feigning sympathy and pity for your dad while others downright insult him. you countered these claims to every person, saying he didn’t do it but they all just laughed or shook their heads. finally, it was time for the ball and event to begin and you took a seat. as you were the host have to technically open the thing so here you were, walking up to the stage, your feet killing you already and your nerves ready to snap at any second. as you take the stage and see the sea of people in front of you, you feel the anxiety pool in your stomach and you gulp. you can feel everyone’s eyes on you, boring into you and suddenly you feel like you’d committed a thousand crimes and everyone was judging you.

“good evening ladies and gentlemen”, you say, giving the audience a small smile.

“i am here tonight on behalf of my father, but i welcome you all and would like to thank you all for coming. the proceeds raised at this ball will be going to children and people in need. thank you for coming once again and have a great night”, you tell, people clapping and you walk off.

another host takes over from here and you walk down the stage, holding your dress up as you look down and see someone you really did not want to be seeing right now - your dad’s business partner's son, who was a #1 asshole.

he’d always been a snob and you almost roll your eyes at the sight of him. you see people writing cheques and putting them in the donation box and in the other room people were dancing to the live band who were playing music.

“hello yn, long time no see”, he says, flashing you his smile, which you didn’t reciprocate. “hi”, you say.

“nice party”, he adds. “thanks”, you say.

“i would like to offer you the first dance”, he asks, giving you a mischievous smile. “oh no that’s alright”, you say but he doesn’t listen.

“come on, don’t be a spoilsport”, he says, taking your hand and taking you along with him to the other side of the room. and soon, his hand is on your waist and he’s smirking at you as you both slowly move. you can see people looking at you but you try to ignore it.

“how’s your dad? i bet things are hard right now”, he says.

“yeah, but i’m sure the truth will be revealed at the end”, you say.

he laughs, making a few snide remarks about your father, which you try to ignore. but suddenly you feel the thread you’re trying to hold onto snap and suddenly the music is too loud, you don’t like the way he’s holding your hand too tight or the way his hand on your waist is going lower and you try to pull away but he doesn’t let you.

“oh i’m sure the truth will be revealed soon”, he says and he leans in, whispering in your ear. “that your father is a crook”, he tells, smirking and he looks at you and you pull your hand away. you walk away, watching as people’s gaze turn towards you but you ignore it, the tears pooling in your eyes as you make your way to the restroom. you enter and lock yourself in one of the stalls, letting a few tears roll down. you hear the door open and a few girls.

“did you see her?”, one of them says.

“i can’t believe she had the audacity to come really”, another girl says.

“she’s so shameless. if my father was jailed i would like never to show my face to anyone.”, a girl adds and the others laugh.

“probably got spoiled from her father’s rotten money”, another girl tells, and they all snicker as they leave.

hearing this only makes you more upset and more tears well in your eyes as you cry silently. you didn’t want to be here anymore, you wanted to be alone, you wanted to leave. you wanted to leave now. panic rises in your chest again along with anger. your eyes well with tears as you walk down the basement where the cars were parked. thank god you had your spare car key with you and you locate your car, getting in and driving off. you grip the steering wheel hard, making your knuckles turn white as you drive. you don’t even know here you’re going, you just know you had to get out of here. you don’t know how long you’ve been driving for, when you realise you don’t even know where you are. you had gotten a couple of texts from wonwoo but you ignore it and soon wonwoo was calling you but you ignored it too. you didn’t have the energy to deal with him right now. you wanted to be alone.

your car suddenly sputters and breaks down in the middle of the road in almost the middle of nowhere. the road was empty and you couldn’t see anyone or any other cars, people or buildings, fuck. you bury your head in your hands, crying out in frustration as you think about what to do. well you guess now was a good time to call wonwoo.

wonwoo picks up your phone almost immediately. he’d seen you dancing but after that, during the entire party he didn’t see you. now that it was almost over and he still couldn’t locate you, he was obviously worried. he’d texted you and called you countless times but you weren’t responding, leading him to think something might have happened. he’s a frantic mess as he desperately tries to look for you, calling you, but you don’t respond.

“yn? yn are you okay”, wonwoo’s voice is urgent on the other line of the phone.

“wonwoo”, you tell softly, nearly on the verge of tears again.

“where are you? are you okay?”, he asks and that’s all it takes for you to burst into tears again, feeling like the whole weight of the world was on your shoulders.

“yn, please tell me where you are”, he pleads, concern laced in his voice.

“i don’t know”, you tell, your voice cracking, more tears rolling down your already tear stained cheek.

“i got overwhelmed and i left, i took the car and i drove and i-i don’t know where i am”, you tell through broken sobs. “and now the car broke down, god knows where”, you add, sniffling.

“send me your live location, i’ll track you”, he says. “stay in the car and lock the doors, i’m coming”, he assures. “can you stay on the line with me”, you ask. “of course”, he fills in.

wonwoo discovers you’ve driven a whole 45 minutes away and he assures you that he’s coming. but only ten minutes in your phone dies. “fucking phone”, you mumble as you look at the dark road. ten minutes pass and now you start getting scared. wonwoo was going to come right? blame your stupid anxiety but you thought of the worst scenarios that could happen, only psyching yourself more. the car feels more suffocating by the minute and your shoes feel like they're getting tighter. panic sets in stronger and you can’t take it anymore, can’t take the tightness in your shoes and you hastily undo the laces and pull off your shoes, wincing slightly when you feel it scrape against the back of your ankle. you close your eyes and try to take a few deep breaths.

after what feels like an eternity, you see a car pull up near you. you can’t make out anyone, the light almost blinding, but you see someone step out, making their way to your car. you open the door and step out, hearing the voice calling your name - wonwoo. relief immediately floods through your body as you run towards him, crashing into his arms as you start sobbing in his chest, your arms wrapped tightly around his body. he’s a little taken aback but his hands engulf you, pulling you in for a warm embrace.

“i thought you weren’t going to make it”, you mumble out, your arms wrapped around wonwoo as you start to cry. “of course i’d come yn, i gave you my word”, he says, his hand coming up to cradle your head.

“my phone died and i-i didn’t know what i was going to do”, you mumble out, looking up at wonwoo. he studies your face, his gaze softening as he takes in your state and your tear-stained cheeks. you’ve cried a lot today. you finally drop your hands from around wonwoo, letting him go. wonwoo looks down and sees you’re barefoot. “where are your shoes?”, he asks. “they’re in the car, it was getting uncomfortable”, you say. wonwoo is quick to grab your phone, keys and bag from your car and to your surprise, there’s a pair of sneakers. he puts them in front of you, bending down to help you put them on. “where did you get those?”, you ask, surprised. “i like to be prepared”, he informs, helping you wear the shoes before standing back up and your hand automatically grab his hand, intertwining your fingers in his, hoping to find some grounding through his touch.

wonwoo asks the cab to take you both to the nearest hotel, which was roughly ten minutes away from where you were according to the cab driver. you’re still holding wonwoo’s hand and he lets you as you try to calm down. you see a building up ahead and the cab driver tells you that this is the location. you both enter, walking up to the reception and the lady there looks up as you both up.

“we’d like two rooms please”, wonwoo asks.

“unfortunately we only have one room left”, the lady says.

“we’ll take it”, you chirp in and wonwoo looks at you.

“it’s a couple suite so i can only book couples in it”, she says, chewing on gum, looking bored to even be there. “are you a couple or”, she asks.

“no” “yes”, you say and you both look at each other.

“we are, ignore him, he’s a little shy”, you tell and she just looks between you both again.

“alright, how would you like to pay, cash or card?” the lady asks. you dig through your purse and find your card, handing it over and you have your room key. wonwoo notices the way you’re walking slowly this time, watching your face contour in the slightest of winces with each step. “are you hurt?”, he asks, walking forward as he puts his hands on your shoulder, his eyes raking your body for any sign of discomfort or hurt. “no-my shoes-ouch-were the wrong fit”, you fill in. “i think i got a shoebite from them”, you say as you look up the flight of stairs you’d have to climb mentally bracing yourself when you feel wonwoo’s hands wrap around you and lifting you up bridal style. you let out a small surprised yelp, your arms wrapping around wonwoo’s neck for support.

“woah w-what are you doing?”, you stutter out, looking at wonwoo, whose face is barely inches from yours. “your feet are already hurt, i don’t want you climbing up the stairs in that state”, he announces, carrying you as he walks up the stairs. you feel that familiar heat creep up your cheeks and that tiny feeling of butterflies as you look at wonwoo. he looked really pretty up close, his hair falling over his forehead as his glasses sat perfectly on the bridge of his nose. you reach your room and unlock the door, wonwoo still carrying you and he sets you down. you tell him a quiet thank you as your hands are quick to slide off the sneakers, feeling instant relief. but just has you had predicted, you got shoebites. both the sides of your pinky toes and heels were bruised and raw.

wonwoo fetches something from his wallet - bandaids. you’re surprised. “so you just carry around bandaids in your wallet??”, you ask, amused. “like i said, i have to be prepared”, he says. you try to take the bandaid from his hand, telling him that you’d put it on but he doesn’t let you as he bends down on one knee so now he’s matching your height. he gently places your foot on his knee has he puts the bandaid your heel. he repeats the same for your other heel before you put your leg down and wonwoo looks at you.

“i’m sorry”, you tell softly, gazing into his alluring eyes. “are you mad at me? it’s valid if you’re mad at me because i just ran off and completely ignored your calls and-”. you stop when you feel his hand gently squeeze yours, a small act of assurance. “you’re safe now and that’s all that matters”, he says, his voice deeply soothing. you smile, leaning in to peck his cheek. “thank you wonwoo”, you tell and he gives you a soft smile as he gets up. little did you know that wonwoo’s heart was racing from your little action as he tried to maintain his composure.

wonwoo wanders off to another room but comes back outside. “there’s only one bed”, he says, like it’s a fact. “so?”, you ask, getting up.

“i guess i’ll sleep on the couch over there”, he says, pointing towards the couch that looked like anyone would wake up with back pain if they slept on it.

“wonwoo it’s fine, we’re just gonna sleep”, you tell. “you’re acting like sleeping in the same bed is a crime”, you say. “i would prefer not to interfere-” “sleep on the bed or i’ll take the couch”, you threaten.

but now there was a bigger problem than the bed, you didn’t have any change of clothes. thankfully the hotel sold some stuff as merchandise and t-shirts and pants were in the collection too.

you go to the bathroom and change, finally stripping out of your dress and you hang it up to air, changing into the clothes you got. your feet still hurt a bit when you walked because they’d been cramped up in those tiny shoes for too long. you walk out, your eyes widening as you catch wonwoo changing his shirt and you immediately turn around, your cheeks flushing. “sorry”, you mumble before turning around after a few seconds. but you did not miss the peek you got at his abs, oh my gosh.

you mentally slap yourself and sit on the corner of the bed, a yawn taking over you as you glance at the time - 2am. you were tired, it had been a long and exhausting day. you settle in bed, wonwoo sitting on the single couch opposite you, his hair slightly ruffled now from him running his hands through it, and yet it somehow still looked fluffy. wonwoo told you he’d sleep in a bit and you close your eyes, dozing off immediately, sleep overtaking your tired body. but you wake up an hour later because of a loud crack and boom and the heavy downpour of rain. you stir awake and another lighting strikes, flashing into the room before a low rumble follows. you open your eyes and see wonwoo, who’s busy reading a book under the dim lights. you sit up slightly, another loud thunder hitting making you jump as you hit your head on the headboard, startling wonwoo as well.

“yn? are you okay?”, he asks, putting the book down and coming up to you. another loud thunder rumbles, shaking the ground and you cover your eyes, closing your eyes. you hated thunderstorms. “what’s wrong?”, wonwoo asks, sitting down beside you on the other side of the bed. “n-nothing i just don’t like loud noises and thunder”, you meekly say, still sleepy from the sudden intrusion. “it’s dumb i-”, you stop when another earth rumbling thunder hits, making you jump again. “can i hold your hand? it helps me calm down”, you ask softly, a little embarrassed, but wonwoo offers you his hand. it feels warm, soft and safe as you hold it and wonwoo makes himself a bit more comfortable as he sits next to you.

“what were you reading? '', you ask, letting wonwoo’s hand go after two minutes and now that you are a bit more awake, you take in wonwoo’s look. even in the dark, you could make out his hair was now messily dishevelled which only added to the charm and the glasses god, he looked so hot. you weren’t even listening to what he was saying as your hand fiddles with your ring on your finger. wonwoo looks at you and tilts his head to the side ever so slightly.

“what are you thinking about?”, he asks, his voice deep.

“n-nothing”, you fill in, feeling embarrassed about your thoughts. “how do you know i’m thinking about something”, you ask, trying to get the upper hand on wonwoo, only for it to backfire on you.

“you’re fiddling with your ring, and you only do that when you’re thinking about something or something is bothering you”, he says. well damn, he was a keen observer.

“oh”, is all you say as you look at your ring, biting your lip before you look back up at him.

“nothing, it’s really stupid”, you tell but wonwoo looks like he wasn’t going to budge until you gave him an answer.

“i’m sure it’s not stupid”, he adds, trying to reassure you, waiting expectantly. fuck it you think.

“i was just thinking about um”, you start getting nervous, your cheeks heating up and you avoid his gaze, stuttering out the next words. “i was thinking about how-um-how good you look with glasses. it really brings out your features you know and it makes you look really hot. you should wear them more often”, you confess, whispering the last bit, the familiar heat creeping up your cheeks. he doesn’t say anything, but you swear you can see the faint smirk as his lips curve up. you look away, his gaze on you suddenly too intense for you to bear.

“okay your turn, what are you thinking about”, you ask in a hurry, hoping it would turn the attention away from you.

“do you really want to know?”, he asks slowly and you nod your head, looking at him. “you don’t talk much do you, so i’m guessing there must be a lot on your mind”, you prompt. he’s silent for a few seconds before he speaks.

“i’m thinking about what a wonderful person you are”, he says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “i’m thinking about how you are only so caring and attentive towards others but yourself. i’m thinking about how the whole world seems to have a wrong impression of you, and that you don’t deserve any of the shitty things happening to you right now. i’m thinking about when it will all end and when you’ll be able to be happy”, he says, his words completely catching you off guard. each of his thoughts strike a chord in you and you almost tear up. out of everyone, it seemed like only wonwoo was on your side.

“wonwoo”, you say softly, at a loss for words. you don’t even know when you leaned towards wonwoo but your eyes flicker down to his lips for a split second before you look back up. “i’m thinking about how gorgeous you looked tonight and that if i had the chance i would have asked you for a dance earlier tonight if not given the current circumstances”, he adds, his gaze never leaving yours as he stares into you deeply, fondly as he opens up to you.

“and as of this moment, i’m thinking about how it would be to kiss you”, he fills in and you blink up at him, getting nervous at his confession. you answer him by leaning in and softly pecking his lips, lingering for a few seconds before you pull away but still close enough that has your heart beating rapidly.

wonwoo leans in, kissing you, properly this time. his hand gently cups your cheek as he moves his lips against yours and you swear you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach at that moment. you kiss him back and you move your head, accidentally knocking his glasses, making you both pull away. “oops sorry”, you say, a little breathless as your hands reach out to take off his glasses and he is quick to put them on the side table before turning his attention back to you. you look up at him. “what are you thinking about now?”, you ask, your lips centimetres away from his, and you can feel your heart racing again, the echoes of the beats loud in your chest.

“i’m thinking about how i want to kiss you again”, he says, closing the gap between you both as he captures your lips in his this time you sigh into the kiss as wonwoo cups your cheek, deepening the kiss as his arm encircles your waist, pulling you closer to him. wonwoo quite literally knocks the breath out of you as he pulls away slowly, watching your chest rise and fall. you kiss him again, getting giddy at the feeling of his lips on yours as he kisses you breathlessly again, softly pushing you down on the bed as your head rests on the pillow, wonwoo’s body hovers over yours, careful not to put his weight on you as he kisses you sweetly, the drumming of the rain outside as your soundtrack.

you wake up, wonwoo’s arms around your waist as you blink your eyes open. the sun was filtering through the white curtains, rays of sunshine adorning the floor and wall. wonwoo is still fast asleep beside you and you take this chance to look at him, really look at him. his hair is messy but cutely dishevelled, his eyes closed as soft breaths leave him as he sleeps, peaceful. he’s so pretty you think to yourself as you smile softly to yourself. you remember the events of last night, the kiss, and suddenly feel yourself getting very very shy as you bite your lips to contain the silly smile that aims to erupt across your face. you continue to admire wonwoo, his big warm hands still engulfing you as you shift slightly to check the time. when you turn back, wonwoo softly stirs awake, his pretty eyes fluttering open as he awakens.

“hi”, you say softly.

“hi”, he says, his morning voice deeply attractive.

you both look at each other, not saying anything but just taking in each other’s presence. “did you sleep okay?”, he asks, searching your face and you shake your head, mumbling something about how you’re still tired.

his hand comes up to hold yours as he gently lifts it to his lips, giving it a soft kiss, his eyes never leaving yours, making you laugh softly. god, he was so dreamy.

“what do you want to do today?”, he asks.

“sleep, i just wanna sleep”, you groan, burying your face into the pillow. wonwoo’s hand wraps around your waist as he pulls you closer towards him. “then sleep”, he says, placing a soft kiss to your cheek, making you smile. you close your eyes and soon drift off to sleep, wonwoo’s embrace making you feel safe and comfortable. and soon, wonwoo was also sleeping with you, both of you sleeping soundly in each other’s embrace.

it’s only around lunchtime that you both stir awake again and mostly because someone was knocking on your door, leading you to both wake up to the sudden noise.

“we have to checkout by 5pm or pay to stay another night”, he tells you. “we should leave, but the car!”, you tell, sitting up in bed.

“i’ll get it fixed, i’ve arranged for it, " he says. “i’ll go get our clothes from the hotel’s drycleaning," he says. you’d have to wear the same dress again but you didn’t mind.

wonwoo is quick to have a shower and he's changed into his suit from yesterday, that’s all clean and freshly pressed for the day minus the blazer as he tells you he’ll bring the car. you ask him if you can come along but he says it’s best to stay back. you feel a bit bummed about it but stay back nonetheless. all your luggage was in the car, in a rush you and wonwoo had forgotten it, but could change when he was back. wonwoo is finally back and you manage to get your luggage, and you change into something comfortable, ready to leave for home.

you check out and head towards the car as wonwoo loads in your luggage before spotting you, opening the car door for you. you sit upfront this time and the journey home begins. you end up talking a bit but get hungry since you really haven’t eaten anything yet. wonwoo is quick to stop by a nearby restaurant once you guys enter the city and you gladly inhale some food.

it’s been two weeks since you and wonwoo kissed and every time you thought about it, it made you all shy. wonwoo was his usual self, back in business mode but his touches now lingered and he’d talk to you sweetly, opening up to you more, and maybe somehow a little more protective of you.

you were now in jeonghan’s office, upset and mostly scared of the way your father’s trial was going. it seemed like things were going in favour of the prosecution and not your father.

“what’s going wrong”, you ask jeonghan, who only sighs at your question. “i’m really trying my best here yn”, jeonghan says, looking at you. “i really don’t know where the prosecution is getting all this new evidence from”, he says. “i’m doing my best yn but at this rate maybe it’s better for your father to serve the jail time”, he says, making you immediately protest at the thought.

“what? why should he go to jail for something he didn’t even do?”, you almost yell out.

“given the circumstances, serving ten years looks the best for him. i can even try to reduce it to seven along with community service and probation”, he adds and you click your tongue, upset at the whole idea and proposition.

he takes a few moments to think before speaking to you again. "his company has come to a standstill, someone needs to step up in the meantime and run things around there”, he starts off, being careful with his words.

“but you know what would help? if i was maybe given the power of attorney. it would help big time in trying to smooth over the company and business until things with your father are settled”, he says, giving you an assuring smile.

“you should ask my father about that”, you say. “oh i know but maybe you could also ask him, it would be helpful”, he asks.

“i’ll see”, you say. “just make sure my father gets out of this soon”, you ask jeonghan. he gives you a smile, which for some reason runs a shiver down your spine but you shake it off, getting up.

wonwoo drops you home that night after your meeting with jeonghan and walks you back inside. he can tell you’re stressed and anxious about your father’s situation as both of you linger at the doorstep. he reaches out for your hand, as he looks at you, his thumb caressing your hand in an attempt to comfort and soothe you. after a few seconds he takes a few steps forward, bringing his arms around you as he engulfs you in a much needed hug. you sigh in his arms as you close your eyes, letting yourself sink his hold.

“i’m going to be here with you every step of the way”, he reassures.

“thank you wonwoo”, you respond as you pull away and look at him.

“it’s going to be okay”, he says as he looks at you.

“i hope so”, you say, almost defeated after what jeonghan told you about earlier.

he looks at you with the most loving eyes before he leans in and kisses you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as he softly moves his lips against yours as he kisses you sweetly.

“goodnight”, he says softly, sweetly. “goodnight”, you whisper back, stealing another kiss from wonwoo before you retreat back inside.

the next week when wonwoo comes to your house in the morning there’s something different about him, in his demeanour and the way he acts. he strictly keeps to himself, not indulging in small talk with you at all, and brushing your hand off when you try to hold his hand. you felt hurt but decided to brush it off. maybe he had a reason for it, but the thought that he’d be so blunt about it hurt. you wanted to ask him but you didn’t. you decide to go see your father today at the detention centre he was being kept at. you had gotten used to wonwoo’s silence but today it felt odd, suffocating almost, but you don’t say anything, suddenly feeling like a burden to wonwoo.

you’re waiting for your father as you sit on the other end of the room, a plastic divider dividing you and him. you stand up as soon as he walks in and he gives you a small smile. he looks tired.

“are you okay?”, you ask, sitting down. “i can manage," he says.

“so things aren’t going in your favour”, you say, looking at your father. “i am aware”, he says.

“what about the company? and your business? what’s going to happen to that?”, you ask.

“yn, you know i always intended for you to take over the company at some point”, he says. “but maybe you’ll have to take over earlier than i thought”, he says.

“what do you mean?”, you prompt.

“i mean that you will have to take over”, he says. “it is going to be hard, there are going to be obstacles and people are going to try and bring you down but i have faith and trust in you”, he says.

“what if i’m not ready”, you say.

“i’ll always be here and you know what they say, fake it till you make it”, your father tells, making you chuckle as you hold back your tears.

“jeonghan was asking about you giving him the power of attorney”, you say as you see your father's gaze change.

“no, if i were to give anyone the power of attorney right now, it should be you”, he says.

“but don’t you trust jeonghan? i’m sure he’ll be able to help run things until i’m ready to take over”, you say.

“i wouldn’t trust anyone right now”, your father says. “i would rather have my own child act on my behalf than jeonghan”, he says. “a power of attorney is a powerful thing and i would trust you with it more than jeonghan”, he says and you nod as you take in his words.

that evening wonwoo leaves again, and he was still cold towards you. you decided to bring it up to him tomorrow because it was starting to make you feel weird, uneasy and bad. the next day, your doorbell rings a few times. you wonder why wonwoo hasn’t bothered just entering your house like he always has. was this a new thing now? you really had to talk this out with him.

“wonwoo what are-”, you start but stop because the person in front of you wasn’t wonwoo. “who are you?”, you ask. “i’m your new bodyguard from today”, he says. you look him up and down because he didn’t look very bodyguard material.

“what happened to wonwoo?”, you ask, taken aback by this. he just shrugs. “i don't know, jeonghan sent me so you should talk to him”, he says before stepping in, uninvited if you had to say.

you go to your room to fetch your phone and come back to see the guy just sitting on your couch, scrolling through his phone, wow. talk about being professional.

you glare at him as you dial jeonghan. he picks up after a few rings.

“what happened to wonwoo?”, you ask, not wasting a second.

“no hi?”, he says, sensing the urgency in your voice.

“where’s wonwoo”, you ask again.

“wonwoo quit”, jeonghan says like it was no big deal.

“what do you mean he quit?”, you ask in shock. “he quit yn, he told me a few days back. he said he didn’t want to work for you anymore”, he adds, making your heart drop.

“but why, there must have been a reason right?”, you ask jeonghan.

“i think it’s for the best yn, and besides, i told you not to get too close to him”, jeonghan says and you didn’t like the tone of his voice.

after that you call wonwoo but he doesn’t pick up but you keep calling. he couldn’t just quit on you like that. there must have been a reason. and you think back to yesterday and how he was acting so cold towards you for the last few days. you tear up at the thought. why? why would he do that? did he really just use you?

you watch as your new bodyguard sits on your couch lazily, not even bothered about trying to do his job right. you were pretty sure that if you went out the door right now, this guy wouldn’t even notice. you roll your eyes at the thought and sigh.

“i’m going to see jeonghan”, you tell. “sure, i guess i should drive you right, just let me finish this level, i’ve almost cracked it”, he says. he was not being serious right now.

after five minutes you get his attention. “excuse me?? can we go or shall i go myself?”, you ask. “i’m coming jeez, you’re so stuck up”, he says.

as soon as you burst into jeonghan’s office, he looks at you with a glint in his eyes.

“what do i owe this pleasure to”, he says.

“you could have at least hired a competent replacement, this new guy sucks actually, he doesn’t even have basic manners”, you tell jeonghan.

“he was the best replacement i could find”, jeonghan tells nonchalantly and you scoff.

“best replacement? you’ve got to be kidding me right now. wonwoo was the best and he was actually qualified. this guy looks like someone you just picked off the street”, you argue.

jeonghan doesn’t say anything as he filters through the stack of papers on his desk, finding what he was looking for before he looks back up at you. “did you ask your father about the power of attorney thing?”, he asks, changing the topic.

“i did and he wasn’t too keen on it. he said he’d rather give me the power of attorney power than you”, you say but jeonghan doesn’t seem fazed at all.

“i expected that, so why don’t we start processing the papers to give you power of attorney. and then you can transfer it to me right? i can hold fort until you’re ready”, he says, more like he’d had it all planned out rather than asking you.

“i’ll process the papers to make you power of attorney for now”, he says. “okay”, you say. “now if you’ll excuse me, i have a lot of work of work to do”, he tells.

“what did wonwoo tell you when he quit”, you quickly ask.

“yn we are not going there”

“just tell me, please”

“he said he didn’t want to work for you anymore”, jeonghan says.

“that’s all he said?”, you ask.

“yes”, and suddenly all your hopes sink.

you get back home and in the following days you just stay at home. you were somehow on the news these days, and for the dumbest reason really, it was like people were trying to nitpick you apart and post things about you. you called wonwoo again and texted him a bunch of times but there was not one single response. you couldn’t believe that wonwoo would do something like that, after all you guys shared. it broke your heart really.

and to say your new bodyguard was incompetent was an understatement. the other day he couldn’t even protect you from being mobbed or spot the paparazzi that you caught in a blink of an eye. you wanted wonwoo, you missed him.

you go to jeonghan’s office and go to the detention centre again to get the power of attorney transferred to you because your dad also had to be present.

your dad carefully reads the document, making sure everything was right, even the fine print that people tend to ignore before deeming it legal and everything was good. he signs it and puts his stamp on it and so do you.

“use this power wisely yn, i’m trusting you”, he says and you nod.

when you reach home, you’re just waiting for the new guy to go.

“give me your phone”, the new guy says, coming up to you and he doesn’t even wait for you to answer before he’s plucking your phone out of your hand.

“what the hell?”, you ask, trying to take your phone back but he doesn’t let you.

“no more phone for you for the time being, jeonghan’s orders, with all these headlines about you going around he says it’s for the best”, he says.

“no give me my phone back”, you demand but he grabs your hand, pushing you towards your room, slamming the door shut and you hear the lock engage. you try to open the door but it doesn’t.

“hey open this door right now”, you tell, beating your hand on the door. “that’s not going to change anything”, he says, chucking as you hear his footsteps around the hallway.

“she’s locked up”, he says, talking to someone on the phone.

“let me out”, you yell again, banging your fist on the door again.

“shut it”, he says, kicking the door, only prompting you to bang your fist on the door harder.

but after no avail you stop, sinking to the ground, tears already welling in your eyes. your life just really kept getting shitty and shittier didn’t it.

you open your eyes as you hear the key rattle on the other side, the doorknob rattling and the door opening. you’re quick to stand up.

“what the fuck is wrong with you”, you yell but the new guy doesn’t seem fazed at all. “he wants to see you”, he tells, grabbing your hand but you pull it out of his grip. “move”, he demands and you reluctantly move towards the hall and your eyes go wide at who you see - jeonghan.

“did you do this?”, you ask, in shock.

“i have to get things done don’t i yn”, he says, giving you that creepy smile again. “and now you’re going to be a good girl and sign these papers”. he says, holding out in front of you.

“what is that”, you ask. “the transfer of power of attorney from you to me”, he says.

“there’s no way in hell i’m doing that after what you just fucking did”, you spit out, getting upset.

“getting feisty now are we? let’s not forget that your father’s fate lies in my hands and if you do not sign this paper right now, i will send your father to rot in jail for the rest of his life”, he says, threatening you.

“what-you can’t-you wouldn’t”, you say.

“oh believe me yn, i would. so choose. your father goes to jail or you sign these papers and save his life”, he demands.

“why are you doing this”, you ask bitterly.

“because your father is an idiot and this is the one time i’ve outsmarted him”, jeonghan tells, smug.

“what are you talking about? if you want money give me a number, i’ll give it to you, just stop all this”, you plead.

“oh i’ll get my money yn, but i need to see your father crumble down, that’s what he deserves”, jeonghan says.

he thrusts the papers towards your face. “sign it”, he demands.

“over your dead body, i’m not signing shit jeonghan”, you spit back.

“i don’t think right now is the time to be rebellious yn”, he says, pursing his lips in a thin line.

“oh i’ve always been rebellious jeonghan and i’m not going to let you get away with this”, you tell.

“i doubt that”, he tells, signalling for the bodyguard as he grabs your arm and drags you to your room, pushing you inside and locking the door again.

“think again yn, you’re only getting out of here when these documents are signed and by then it’ll be too late to do anything”, jeonghan says from the other side of the door.

“fuck you jeonghan, you just wait, i’m gonna get you”, you spit out.

you hear him say something only catching the last words being ‘don’t let her out’ .

what the fuck was happening to your life. fuck. you bang your fist on the door, letting out your frustration, sinking to your knees as you try to hold it in, keep it together but you can't. you bang the door a couple more times as tears roll down your cheeks. and yet, the only person you could think of in this situation was wonwoo. only he could help you now, he would know what to do. but you had no means to contact him after your phone was taken away and you were now locked in the room.

you bury your head in your knees, trying to breathe and think. think yn and that’s when you get an idea - your laptop. it was synced to your phone contacts. you get up, rushing to grab your laptop, frantically opening it and you open the messages app and find wonwoo. all your previous texts to him are still unread. no you needed to find him, texting him wasn’t going to work right now. but the question was how? and that’s when you remember the thing jeonghan had sent you before , wonwoo’s resume, which had his address, bingo.

you open your chat logs with jeonghan, scrolling up till the part when jeonghan had sent you wonwoo’s resume and just as you guessed, his address was on it. you grab a pen and jot down the address on a scrap piece of paper. but how were you going to get there? you looked up and at the window behind your desk. you get up, pushing your table to the side slowly trying not to make any loud noises, huffing and puffing.

after you manage to push the table aside enough, you slide the window open and poke your head out, looking at the distance but the jump wasn’t too bad. you slowly swing your legs over, taking a breath before reaching down with your feet and them jumping. the only protection you had against the bare ground was your socks right now. you close the window behind you and look left and right. you slowly and quietly walk towards the back gate and open it slowly, making a quick escape and you jog down the road. you look at the address that’s now crumpled in your hand and it wasn’t too far. you didn’t have cash or anything on your to take the bus so walking you were.

fifteen minutes in and you're getting tired and you put on the hood of your hoodie, hoping no one would recognise you but continue speed walking to the address in your hand. wonwoo would know what to do. wonwoo could help you. wonwoo. you start picking up your speed as you walk without even realising and soon you're running, your legs are working on their own, desperate for an escape and to find wonwoo. after sprinting and jogging for a bit you finally come up to the address, his apartment and you bend down, resting your hands on your knees as you try to catch your breath.

you’re about to walk in when security stops you. “i’m here to see wonwoo, he lives here right”, you ask between breaths.

“mr. jeon? are you his guest?”, the security asks.

“yes, yes, please which building does he live in”, you ask, pulling your hood down in an aim to not let the man recognise you.

“wouldn’t you know that if you know him?”

“please, it’s urgent”, you ask. “he knows me i swear”, you tell. “it's an emergency just, please tell me”, you plead.

the man finally tells you the information and you sprint to the building and run up the stairs, not bothering to wait for the elevator to come. you open the staircase door, entering the main floor, your chest heaving from the effort of running up the stairs. you were lucky you didn’t fall on your face at the pace you were going at. you locate his door number and you stand in front of it and suddenly you’re scared. what if he didn’t open the door? what if he wasn’t here? you can hear your heart pounding in your chest as you raise your hand to ring his doorbell. a few moments pass and nothing and you ring it again and again. shit was he not home?

you take a step back, your head down, suddenly feeling defeated when you hear the doorknob rattle and the door opens. you look up and wonwoo is in front of you. he was really here. you found him.

“yn?”, he asks, as he adjusts the glasses on his face as if he couldn't believe it was you at his doorstep. you get hit with a wave of emotions at that minute and wonwoo is asking you something but you’re not listening as your vision gets blurry and all you can do in that moment in crash into wonwoo’s arms as you start to sob in his chest, the impact making wonwoo stumble before he held onto you. you weren’t crying because you were upset, you were crying because you felt relief - relief that you finally found wonwoo.

you pull away from him and look up and he finally sees the state you’re in, bare feet and he’s quick to spot the bruises on your knuckles and hands from banging on the door as you wipe your tears. wonwoo looks you up and down as he takes both your hands in, his expression suddenly dark as he looks at you.

“who did this to you”, he asks sternly as another tear escapes you.

“j-jeonghan”, you stutter out through a sob. “they’re working together and t-they locked me in the room”, you tell and you can see the rage burning behind wonwoo’s eyes.

“jeonghan did this?”, he asks, anger seething in his eyes and you nod.

“he’s-he’s been behind all this the whole time, the whole reason my father is in jail a-and he was threatening me”, you tell in a rush, not making a coherent sentence.

wonwoo pulls you in a hug, holding you tight. “where were you, why did you leave?”, you demand through a broken sob as the door behind you closes. “i missed you”, you tell softly, your voice cracking as a few more sobs escape you.

“fuck, i missed you too”, he says as he hugs you tighter. you feel something soft rub around your legs and look down, seeing wonwoo’s cat near your feet. “your cat”, you say as you sniffle.

you’re on the couch now, wonwoo giving you new socks and slippers to wear as freshen up, washing your face and feet. wonwoo’s cat is inquisitive of you, sitting on the floor in front of you as she looks at you. “hi oreo”, you say and she meows, making you smile.

wonwoo busies himself in the kitchen as he makes you some chamomile tea to help you calm down and sets the steaming mug in front of you. wonwoo also sets down an envelope next to the mug, signalling for you to open it. you look at him before your hand reaches out for the envelope and you open it, the contents inside making you gasp.

“what’s this?”, you ask, as you sift through the pile of photos, each one making you upset and even more confused. they were pictures of you and wonwoo at the hotel that night after the event, but the person who took them captured you wonwoo sharing a kiss and you sleeping in his wonwoo’s arms. you feel a surge of rage in your body as you look at this.

“this is what jeonghan gave me and he tried to blackmail me with this”, wonwoo says, breaking the silence. “he threatened me with these, saying if i didn’t quit that he would give these photos to the press. i don’t know what he was planning but i did what he said because i didn’t want you getting hurt”, he says. “the bastard probably had someone tail us and take this”, he adds.

“i know it was sudden but there was nothing i could do, he was strict on not making any sort of contact with you afterwards. he said he was watching me and that otherwise these pictures would get leaked in a second if i contacted you and i didn’t want that. i don’t know what sort of twisted sick game he’s playing but i didn’t want you waking up one day and seeing these pictures in the headlines. you’re already going through hell right now and this was the least i could do to protect your reputation, to protect you”, he says, his hand finding yours as he gives it a small squeeze.

‘i’m going to kill jeonghan i swear to god”, you mutter under your breath.

“we have to help my father, we have to do something, you’ll help me right?”, you ask, pleading almost.

“of course yn. i was dying everyday i couldn't see you or tell you what really happened, i was just praying you wouldn’t hate me for it”, he tells.

after things between you both get cleared up, you promptly end up falling asleep, curled up in his arms on the couch. when you were with wonwoo you felt safe, secure, like the world was going to be okay, that you were going to be okay. wonwoo gently carries you to his bed, tucking you in as he slips inside the sheets beside you, watching you sleep and he vowed to himself - that no matter what, he was going to protect you.

you stir awake in the morning in wonwoo’s soft sheets, turning around and seeing the other side of the bed empty. you walk outside, seeing wonwoo busy in the kitchen as he sets a pot on the table. he spots you.

“good morning”, he says and you give him a small smile. “morning”, you tell as you move closer to wonwoo, seeing the small breakfast spread laid out on the table. you hear a meow, followed by another and another.

“someone is hungry”, you joke as you look at oreo waiting for wonwoo to give her food.

“she’s usually patient, aren’t you oreo”, wonwoo says and oreo meows in agreement and protest. you chuckle, this side of wonwoo was adorable.

you both sit down to eat and you’re grateful for the meal, later insisting that you help wonwoo clean up and wash the dishes, even though he insists you don’t need to but your stubbornness wins and he leans on the side of the counter as he watches you wash the dishes, looking defeated.

just then there’s a knock on the door. wonwoo stands alert and checks who it is.

“it’s jeonghan” wonwoo says softly.

“shit, what do we do?”

“go to my room, close the door and stay there till i tell you to come out”, wonwoo instructs and you’re quick to go to his room, closing the door.

wonwoo opens his front door and jeonghan stands there looking irritated.

“what is it?”, wonwoo asks, giving jeonghan a cold stare.

“where’s yn?”, he asks, running a hand through his hair, frustrated.

“how should i know”, wonwoo says.

“listen wonwoo, lying right now is not going to help”

“i don’t know where yn is”, wonwoo repeated.

“if she contacts you, you tell me right away, got it”, jeonghan says as he points a finger at wonwoo.

“did something happen?”, wonwoo asks, trying to assess the situation.

“oh nothing, yn just seems to have gone off without informing anyone, i was just worried”, he tells, giving wonwoo a fake smile before leaving.

you hear the door close, wonwoo telling you that jeonghan was gone.

“he’s looking for you alright. i think it’s better you don’t go out for the time being. you can stay with me till then and we can come up with a plan together okay”, he says, one hand caressing your cheek. you nod.

later that day, wonwoo says he’ll hire a new lawyer for your father and appeal to the court and also indict jeonghan. but the only problem was that how were you going to prove everything that jeonghan was doing? if you only had that evidence it would also help in proving your father innocent.

“i could hire someone to raid his house maybe”, wonwoo says.

“what, you can do that?”you asked him, shocked but liking the idea.

“i mean he’s not playing fair either is he? let’s mess with him a little”, wonwoo says.

“but how will you find someone to do that?”, you ask curiously.

“i have connections sweetheart”, he tells. “i’m an impressive man you know”, he adds and you smile. “i'm sure you are”.

over the next few days, things move quickly. wonwoo makes the required arrangements and the meeting with the new lawyer is online because jeonghan likely putting someone to stakeout and watch wonwoo’s place in case you showed up. wonwoo is smart to keep the curtains drawn at all times so no one could peek inside either. the first priority was indicting jeonghan which would make him suspend him from working, and your father’s case would have more time and more time right now was good.

the next week jeonghan is indicted, and a legal notice is sent to his office courtesy of the impressive new lawyer that wonwoo hired. with the indictment jeonghan could not go anywhere, he couldn’t flee or travel and he’d be called for a formal court hearing on wednesday. as you got ready on wednesday morning to go to the court hearing because you were the one indicting jeonghan so you had to be there. you were nervous, standing in front of the mirror in wonwoo’s room. wonwoo was accompanying you too of course, he wasn’t going to let you go out there alone when you were going to go fight. you were going to show the world who you really were.

you reach the courthouse where the hearing will take place and it seems like everything is already on the news, the hoard of journalists and news reporters already crowding the place. you walk inside with wonwoo and head to the courtroom. as soon as you enter you see jeonghan, who clenches his jaw as he makes his way towards you, clearly upset and shocked.

“yn what the hell is all this”, jeonghan nearly shouts, his hand reaching out to grab yours but wonwoo grabs his hand instead, stopping him.

“watch it jeonghan”, wonwoo warns as jeonghan pulls his arm out from wonwoo’s grip.

“you’re not going to get away with all this”, you tell.

the hearing starts and you’re sitting with wonwoo’s lawyer and beside you on the other side is jeonghan and his lawyer.

“miss yn has made an indictment to mr. yoon over criminal activity and fraud”, the judge says, looking at you.

“yes your honour”, your lawyer fills in.

“what is the accused stand on this matter?”, the judge asks.

“my client mr.yoon is not guilty your honour”, jeonghan’s lawyer says and you scoff, glaring at him.

“does the plaintiff have evidence to support these claims?”, the judge asks.

“not yet but we are working on it”, your lawyer explains.

“i request the charges against my client to be dropped because they are completely baseless and defamatory”, jeonghan’s lawyer demands.

“given the nature of the accusations and that mr.yoon is also a well known person in his respective industry, i will give the plaintiff one week to gather sufficient evidence otherwise the charges and case will be dropped due to lack of evidence”, the judge grants before dismissing the court.

you’re laying wonwoo’s bed lost in thought. now the only problem was trying to find evidence. sure, you could still testify but without any evidence, your claims would be useless. there had to be a way and you were sure you were missing a vital piece of information. if only there had been cameras you think and it hits you. you get up in a gasp. that was it, the cctv cameras at your home. you get up, rushing to find wonwoo, who’s in the other room doing something on his computer.

“i figured it out wonwoo”, you tell and he looks up at you. “the cctv cameras you installed at my home, they would have captured jeonghan on it and what he did”, you say and you watch wonwoo’s eyes light up as he follows what you’re saying.

“he was at your house that night?”, he asks.

“yes! and the cameras would have picked it up”, you say.

“and it must have picked up on the audio too”, he states.

"audio?", you ask.

"yes, i installed one's that recorded audio too", he fills in. “yn this is amazing”, he adds “and the best part, i have access to the cctv cameras”, wonwoo adds.

“i just hope jeonghan didn’t get to them”, you tell, worried.

“no, he doesn’t know about them, i didn’t tell him”, wonwoo says.

“you are a genius”, you tell, leaning down to pepper his cheek with a kiss.

“i could say the same thing about you”, he tells, his hands finding your waist.

you smile, looking down at him, frowning when you notice the fingerprints on his glasses. your hands move up, carefully sliding them off as you clean them with the corner of your shirt, asking how he could even see as you gently put the glasses back on his face.

“we might have found some information from jeonghan’s computer and files”, wonwoo adds. “i’ll pass it on to my lawyer, he’ll handle it”.

“do you think we can pull this off?”, you ask wonwoo, your hands resting on his shoulders as you look down at him, wonwoo still seated on his chair.

“i think we can”, he tells, assuring you.

that night, wonwoo filters through the cctv footage to that night and just like you’d predicted, the whole incident where he came to your home and basically confessed what he was doing was recorded, the audio was impeccable too. jeonghan could kiss his life goodbye now. wonwoo hands off this evidence to his lawyer and now you can just wait.

it’s finally the day. you were ready but also nervous and anxious. a thousand what if’s went through your mind as you got ready that morning. you had been informed that your father would also be present at the court hearing since the case indirectly involved him. wonwoo drops you off at the court that morning.

“where are you going?”, you ask, grabbing onto his hand.

“the lawyer just called me, i need to quickly pick up something for him, but i’ll be back okay”, he assures. you nod and wait outside. there was still time for the hearing to take place in 30 minutes approximately.

wonwoo isn’t back even after your lawyer arrives. you’re constantly checking your watch and seeing the time, looking out to see if you can spot wonwoo but you can’t see him.

“i can’t see wonwoo? didn’t he come with you?”, the lawyer asks and you furrow your brows in confusion.

“what do you mean? he told me you called him asking him to get something”, you tell and he looks back at you equally confused. “i did no such thing”, he says.

you fish out your phone and try to call him but it goes unanswered. you try again but no answer.

“yn it’s time, let’s go”, your lawyer says and you put your phone back inside, hoping wonwoo was okay.

-at court-

“your honour, if you look here, you will see the cctv footage of mr.yoon and his men who were at my client's house on the night of the 8th. you can see the person, who was supposed to be yn’s bodyguard, lock up my client in the room and call mr.yoon, who arrives shortly. you can see clearly how mr.yoon threatened my clinet yn and even confessed to what he’s been doing, saying that he intentionally manipulated and betrayed yn’s father and set him up because he has an ulterior motive”, your lawyer states.

the video of that night plays and there’s no way that anyone would not believe you anymore. it was clear as crystal what jeonghan was up to now and his true motives were revealed.

“does the defendant have anything to say?” the judge asks.

“yes, i’d like to cross examine the client”, jeonghan lawyer says, stepping up and coming up to the witness stand where you were sitting. after your cross examination is done the judge announces that the final verdict will be delivered next week, on friday. given the high profile individuals that were involved in the case, a prompt but careful decision would be made. friday is a week away from now. the court is adjourned and you get up and leave, jeonghan purposely bumping into you as you go out, giving you a smirk.

you pick up your phone and call wonwoo again and the call is finally answered. “wonwoo where are you?”, you ask.

“hello is this someone that mr.jeon is acquainted with?”, the other person on the line asks, a female.

“yes, can i know who this is?”

“i’m calling from goodwill hospital, mr. jeon has been in an accident”, she says and your heart drops.

your feet start moving on their own as you run outside, pushing through the crowd of reporters and almost tripping as you try to hail a taxi, on your way to the hospital. you rush into the hospital asking for wonwoo at the front desk. you’re guided to his room, where the doctor explains that he was extremely lucky and only suffered from minor injuries. he would need a few days of rest and he could then be discharged. you’re instantly relieved to hear that but you’re still anxious.

you peek into his room, slowly sliding the door open as you walk in, taking in his state and you instantly teared up. you sit beside him, reaching out to hold his hand as you keep your head down, looking at your hand on top of his. a couple of minutes pass by and you feel a soft squeeze of your hand and you look up seeing wonwoo awake.

“wonwoo”, you are relieved he was awake. “are you okay-shit no that’s a stupid question, you’re obviously not okay”, you tell in a rush.

he sits up slowly, wincing in pain but otherwise keeping a straight face.

“what happened?”, you ask softly.

“i got jumped by jeonghan’s men. i only figured when i was already back at the apartment that the call was indeed not the lawyer”, wonwoo explains.

“shit”, you say.

“i shouldn’t have let you go, i should have insisted you stay”, you tell, feeling like this was all your fault now.

“hey, hey look at me”, wonwoo says.

“i just don’t want you to end up getting hurt because of me”, you tell.

“i’m okay yn, i’m a tough guy you know”, he says, trying to lighten the mood.

after he’s rested enough and the doctors deem him okay, he’s discharged and you take him home. you tell wonwoo all about the court hearing today and now the only thing you could do was wait.

-final hearing-

the media has been on fire the last few days, jeonghan’s case gaining the entire country's attention. but even then, people were 50/50 about the chances of who would win even though the evidence was pretty clear. but you could never tell, the law wasn’t always fair sometimes and you just prayed that it would be fair to you. wonwoo was much better now and was healing well and he insisted on accompanying you, even though you told him he should stay at home and rest.

you’re sitting in front, jeonghan on the opposite side and the court house was crowded, the media causing an uproar outside, eager to report every single second and eager to find out the final verdict of the case. the judge looks at you, and then at jeonghan before they announce the verdict.

“given the high profile of the case and the evidence submitted from both ends, we have carefully reviewed the evidence and points of this case. it has come to a unanimous decision that the defendant, mr. yoon jeonghan is found guilty and will serve ten years in jail and have to pay a fine as well for the damages done and emotional distress caused to the plaintiff.

you cover your mouth in shock. you did it. you won! you couldn’t believe it as you cover your mouth in shock, tears filling your eyes. your father looks at you and the look he gave you was nothing short of proud. you won, your father was going to be free and jeonghan was going to go to jail, he was going to get punished and things were going to be okay now.

as people start filtering out, you’re looking for wonwoo, whom you can’t seem to spot anywhere. you had to tell him. through the crowd, you manage to head out of the courtroom where people start congratulating you and your father. but you were only focused on finding wonwoo.

you run out, only to end up getting ambushed by all the news reporters and journalists, all of them eager to know your thoughts as they bombard you with questions.

“how do you feel yn?”

“how does it feel to know your father is free”

“please share a few words”

you were being bombarded with questions that were going straight through your head and that’s when you heard someone call out your name - wonwoo. you turn around, spotting him on the other side, a few feet away from you. you smile and run towards him, running into his arms as he picks you up and spins you around.

“we did it”, you whisper, your face inches away from his. “we did it”, he repeats, giving you a proud smile. you lean in, kissing him, not caring about what people were going to think anymore. wonwoo kisses you back with the same fierceness, like he was telling you that he was going to stand by you, so that you could conquer the world with him.

-epilogue-

after your father was dropped from all the accusations and was free, his company was slowly starting to gain traction again. the people were now in support of him, now more than ever and people wanted to know his story. but he always said one thing - that he wouldn't have been able to do it without you by his side. you ended up finally graduating college after your father approached them and they did give you extra credits for the trouble they caused you. you’d gotten your own office space in your dad’s building to work from and you were on your way to build your own company that stood for what it believed it.

you’re standing in front of wonwoo in your office with your arms crossed over your chest as you stare him down. he only stands, blinking down at you.

“what is it love?”, he asks.

“we can’t do this anymore wonwoo”, you tell and a wave of emotion seems to go through wonwoo’s face.

“do what?”, he asks calmly.

“this!”, you say, gesturing your hands between him and you.

“i don’t want you to be my bodyguard anymore”, you state and he furrows his brows, confused.

“what do you mean?”, he asks. “did i do something wrong?”, he asks, taking a small step towards you.

“i don’t need a bodyguard anymore”, you tell sternly.

“i beg to differ”, he says calmly.

“i want you to be my boyfriend”, you say and he raises a brow at this proposition.

“i thought i already was”, he mumbles as he bashfully pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“no more of this bodyguard business, you can be my full-time boyfriend now”, you tell and you can see the small smile playing on wonwoo’s lips.

“but isn’t a bodyguard and boyfriend in one an advantage?”, he asks.

“but i just want you to be my boyfriend instead”, you say, pouting.

“but the perks of having a bodyguard and a boyfriend is truly one of a kind”, he says, stepping closer as hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“oh really?”, you ask, tilting you heard to the side.

“and what might that be?”, you ask, settling your hands on wonwoo’s shoulders.

“you know, i can protect you, plus you get to see my handsome face 24/7”, he says and you snort.

“what i know you love it. if i had a dollar everytime i caught you staring at me-”,

“shut up”, you tell, giggling.

“and the most important perk of all, free kisses”, he tells and you chuckle even more. “what? you’re always stealing kisses from me and-”, you cut him off by kissing him, which only seems to prove the point he was making.

“see, you can’t do that”, he tells, leaning in.

“why not”, you ask, playing along.

“because you’re distracting me from my work”, he says, leaning in and kissing you again.

“that’s why you need to stop this bodyguard stuff and just be my boyfriend instead”, you whisper against his lips.

“but then you won’t see me 24/7”, he tells.

“but then i can distract you”, you fill in.

“hm we’ll see about that love”, he says, before he captures your lips and kisses you breathlessly.

the end

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847 notes · View notes

targaryenluvs · 4 months

Text

VICTORS SPOILS

pairings: dark!finnick odair x fem!capitol!reader

warnings: obsession, following/stalking, creepy behaviour, naive/younger reader, age gap, (reader is 19 and finnick's around 25), non-con touching and kissing, manipulation, bj mentions/insinuations, sex mentions, prostitution mentions, finnick lowkey preying on you - descriptions of brown reader (i was self indulgent since i’m indian 😁) condescending/nit picking mother and pushy parents!

summary: a victor should be celebrated! a victor should get what ever they wish, even if it’s a sweet capitol girl who misplaced her kindness in someone who was in desperate need of reprieve and distraction.

a/n: ITS MY BIRTHDAY!!! HERES A GIFT FROM ME TO YOU ❤️GUESS WHO MADE HER OWN LITTLE HEADER GAHH!! i tried my bestttt - ive been away for a littleeee!! sorry babes <33 it was like 3am and i cooked this up in my head before opening my brewing pot (notes app) and jotting it down - NOT PROOFREAD

the hall was so loud.

they always were at capitol parties. your mother and father always dragged you along, stating that a young lady should be getting out, meeting people, friends, becoming well versed and established in the capitol. and that they wouldn’t always be here. “you need to learn to be alone, fend for yourself and stand your ground. how are you gonna do that if you’re always trying to keep to yourself dear?” your mother sweetly smiled as she looked over you, “i think you still have time to change that dress, not the most flattering sweetie.”

you scoffed as she walked away ever so elegantly. you looked over yourself in the mirror, the green dress was gorgeous, to you at least. but the blue dress your mother had chosen was breath-taking, as much as you hated to agree with her opinion. so you bit your tongue and put the chosen dress on.

mother knows best right?

the sun was setting with an especially beautiful array of colours to which you figured no one would really notice you were gone if they were all focused on something else. there was probably a screen upstairs which you could watch something on. a few things to eat and drink then you’d head up there.

finnick was glancing over to you the whole night. you’d worn blue, and he’d taken it as an ode to him. you hadn’t looked over at him yet but your leaving of the party seemed like an invitation to him to finally introduce himself.

as you settled down on the plush couch you felt all your tensions melt away. but finnick wouldn’t leave you alone for long. “i’m sorry i didn’t know this was occupied.” finnick looked sad and you had no clue why, so being as nice as you are had you opening the room in invitation to him. “no, no! i just wanted to get away from the party. you’re welcome to sit with me finnick.” it felt odd to you for some reason, calling him by his name as if he was a friend. you’d only ever seen him through screens and from afar yet he looked as amazing as always.

“are you sure?” you nodded and smiled, moving down the couch to make room for him. he sat down, respectful of your space. he looked drained and you felt the same way. “tired of the party?” you asked as he smiled and nodded, “a lot of people asking a lot of questions.” you spoke, “everyone has something to say or ask. my dad told me he got three men asking for my hand. we haven’t even been here for two hours. it’s like being in a room with vultures. and if i do accept i’ll just be, nothing. someone stuck to the side of some ugly guy who just wants a pretty face.” you didn’t know what it was about him but you felt as if you could tell him anything.

and he sat, and listened. nodding his head and adding it where appropriate. it felt, nice. having someone actually listen to what you said rather than just asking what you were wearing. he was nothing like what you expected. you’d heard the whispers. that he was a playboy, he was with and had been with multiple women and men over the years. and that he liked it, the gifts, the people, the uhm, other aspects.

“but you, i’m sure you have people to meet, scope out.” you wanted to curl up and die as soon as the words left your mouth. “no! oh my god, i do not mean it like that. you- i- you should not feel ashamed of what you like. i am so sorry- i didn’t mean to imply-” god would you stop droning on? finnick pressed his lips into a thin line, “hey it’s okay. you’re fine. in all honestly, i know everyone has mis-conceptions of me.” you took his place in attentive listening as he explained the truth.

the threats, the people pawing at him, him being sold from fourteen.

you were crying. it all sounded unbelievable and unbearable for someone to go through at such a young age, his life was ruined all because he was pretty, desirable. no child should even have to think of such things let alone experience them. and rather than you comforting him, he was sitting with his arms around you. he was too good to be true.

“i- no i’m so sorry that happened to you finnick. i had no clue, no one does. you are such an amazing person, from the little time i’ve known you. you don’t deserve any of this. how could you get away from this? we could- we could expose snow we could-” finnick cut you off with teary eyes, “there’s nothing we can do. trust me, if there was i would have tried. but i think, if i got married perhaps. i’d have a reason to stay away from the captiol. we’d live in district four, in peace.”

the idea was pretty decent, you’d give him that. and you couldn’t help your heart running a little faster at the prospect of potentially marrying him. you were already fast friends, at least you’d marry a friend? even if he potentially loved someone else or you loved another.

“what if- if you married me?”

he’d hoped you’d say that.

“you’d do that for me? seriously?” finnick faked shock as you nodded, “we’re friends, i’d much rather marry you than anyone else here to be honest. we could be happy.” you smiled as he wiped away his last tear. “y/n, that’s an amazing idea.”

your wedding was marvellous.

your parents pushed out buck after buck, no expense spared for their little girl. as if they actually cared for you. your wedding dress was white and pristine, courtesy of snow. your brown hair in curls and your brown skin glistening. but you added blue accents for finnick, or you thought you did. it’s not like he pushed for you to wear the things he bought by incessantly reminding the makeup artists and helpers that you were marrying the finnick odair, his wife deserved nothing but the best.

you stood infront of a friend, smiling, happy to be marrying a kind soul.

he stood in front of the object of his affection, his desire and love.

in the first few weeks you were undeniably happy, finnick was as sweet as ever and respected you. it was your best outcome. but overtime you seemed to notice changes in his behaviour. when you’d want to go out into town for dinner he’d always have an excuse up his sleeve.

“there’s roadworks towards your favourite restaurant honey. maybe another time?”

“apparently they’re all booked out, maybe in a few weeks time?”

“wouldn’t you rather have a home-cooked meal? i made your favourite sweetheart.”

it began to annoy after the sixth time. “it can’t always be busy can it? we use to go all the time, and it’s not like they’d refuse you finnick. what’s going on?”

“i give you everything you could ever want. why the hell do you want to go out so much? am i not enough? are you- are you seeing someone?” finnick slumped in his seat.

your eyes widened as you rushed over to him, settling on your knees as your hands were placed on his thighs, “finnick how could you say such a thing? i would never do that to you. i swear there’s nothing going on, i just, i’m bored. i’d like to go out with you, explore your district with you, meet new people with you.” finnicks eyes burnt into yours. this is certainly not how he first wanted to see you on your knees, but at least you were whining.

“yeah? you like me? you promise there’s nothing going on?” you nodded dumbly, “yes yes! nothing i promise.” finnick looked down at your hands in his lap, “how do i know you’re not lying?” your hands were on his knees as you straightened your back, coming closer to his eye level, “i promise finnick. you are my husband, i’m with you. i’ll do anything to prove it to you.”

finnick was fighting off every muscle in his cheeks to not start grinning whilst the sad look on his face was breaking your heart, “yeah? anything?” oh this was going to be good. your cheeks were flushed as you heard the words come of out his mouth, “undo my belt sweetheart, show me how much you mean it.” wavering hands hovered over his belt buckle as finnick relaxed into his seat, it couldn’t get better than this right?

wrong.

every time you asked to go out, to meet a friend, to go to the capitol he’d always sulk. and the night would end with you on your knees, him on his to make you forget, or the two of you tangled in sheets.

finnick was finally happy, he had the girl of his dreams after such a long period of sadness, of exploitation and terror. fake smiles and lingering eyes.

he finally got something out of the games.

and his gift?

the victors spoils.

#dark!finnick odair x reader #dark!finnick odair x fem!reader #finnick odair x you #finnick x reader #finnick odair x reader #finnick imagine #finnick odair x fem!reader #hunger games x reader

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kamiversee · 2 months

Text

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 27 || The Sweet Moments (PT. 2)

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, a tinge of angst, & lots of fluff.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.7k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——AFTER THE EVENTS OF WHAT took place in Toji's car, he gave you the option of either sleeping in the guest bedroom of his home or his bedroom. You chose the first option and he was sure to warn you that his son would probably return home sometime that morning so you'd have to stay hidden in there during that time.

You agreed to that and when you got into his home, Toji had given you a spare shirt of his to sleep in. The night went on perfectly fine and he even gave you medicine for your throat before he went to bed, something you gratefully took since you could feel the slight upcoming scratch in your esophagus.

The following morning, you woke up to dim sunlight resting upon the side of your face, making you groan a little before you turned over. You could hear talking coming from somewhere outside the bedroom you lay in.

There were two voices, one obviously Toji's and the other sounding like a smaller and younger person. After laying there for a few minutes trying to listen and wake yourself up at the same time, you eventually got up and decided to be nosy.

The talking you heard slowly transformed into bickering as you neared the shut bedroom door, pressing your ear against it lightly and listening in on the conversation taking place down the hall and in the nearby kitchen.

"Please no," A child's voice was heard.

The sound of a scoff hit your ears, "What do you mean please no??" Toji replied, "I make the best sandwiches..."

"Dad, every grilled cheese you've ever made has been burnt." His son replied, "And every time you make me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich... you put like three pounds of peanut butter on it."

"You said you liked peanut butter," Toji argued back with a shrug.

"Not that much." The child grumbled, "And even the regular sandwiches you make always have too much of something..."

Toji frowned, "No one told you to be so damn picky... If you want it done right maybe you should come in here and do it your damn self."

You can hear the kid laugh at his father with footsteps following behind the sound. The footsteps get closer to the bedroom you're in and you hear his voice just outside it, "You're the one who keeps trying to make them in the first place. I never asked you to."

"Then why do you keep eatin' them?" Toji shouts to the boy as he furthers away from him.

"I gotta' eat something... even if it tastes like shit..." You hear the child curse, just under his breath as he passes your door.

Toji raises a brow, "I know I didn't just hear you curse."

"Can you even hear anything, old man...?" His kid fires back, the sound of his footsteps heard entering a room just down the hall from you-- most likely his bedroom.

"Oi, don't make me come back there!" Toji shouts.

"And do what?" The boy mutters sassily, "Force me to eat another dry chicken sandwich with no water like you did last week?"

There's a second of silence and you try not to laugh at their bickering. Toji sounds a bit annoyed now, "You said you didn't want anything to drink.."

"I wasn't expecting to choke on fourteen pounds of chicken and two slices of bread that were the same size as my laptop..." The kid explains overdramatically.

Toji scoffs, "Whatever, hurry up and get ready before you're late."

"Like you'd care..." You hear the kid say very quietly to himself.

"What was that?" Toji calls out.

There's a moment of quietness and you hear his kid playfully respond, "I knew you were going deaf." He says before shutting his bedroom door.

You move to open yours at the sound and peek out, seeing that it is in fact the child's bedroom that he just disappeared into. Toji scoffs within his kitchen and you take a moment to slip out of the bedroom you're in and join him there.

When he spots you emerging from around the corner, he raises a brow. For starters, he's wearing a t-shirt that hugs his torso, revealing that insane physique of his. You gawk at it slightly as you make your way over to him, walking around the counter and approaching his side to see what he's doing.

"Sounds like you need help out here," You whisper to him teasingly.

Toji smiles slightly at your words, realizing that you've heard just about everything. "Kid doesn't like anything I make."

You tilt your head as you stare at the sandwich he's currently making. It looks like it's supposed to be peanut butter and jelly but it's definitely coming out as more jelly with a hint of peanut butter. A hand comes up over your mouth as you try not to laugh at it.

Toji looks to his side and down at you with a frown, "I know you're not laughing right now."

"Mr. Fushiguro..." You snicker, "He's never gonna like anything you make if you do it like that."

"How the hell am I supposed to do it then?" Toji grumbles.

Both of your voices are quiet enough so that his kid couldn't hear anything.

"Watch and learn," You hum before moving to make the sandwich in a way you think anyone would enjoy.

Toji moves to the side a bit as you create an entirely new sandwich, leaving the one he was working on idle. He watches as you spread peanut butter across two slices of bread and then put an even amount of jelly in the middle, bringing the two slices of bread together and then cutting it in half diagonally.

"Aaand done," You say cheerfully, turning to look at the man beside you to see his eyes wide. You chuckle, "What?"

Toji blinks, "He's not gonna eat that."

"Wanna bet?"

"Sure," Toji replies confidently, moving to finish the sandwich he'd been making previously, "He's gonna hate both of them. Kid' hates everything."

"I'm not sure that's true," You hum, watching as Toji proceeds to make his version of the sandwich.

"You'll see." He replies, "Now, go back in the room before he comes out here."

You sigh, "Fiiine." Then, as you walk away, you turn back with a curious brow raised, "What's his name?"

Toji shrugs, "Don't remember."

You blink, spotting a world's best dad mug on the nearby counter, "You're joking right...?"

Toji chuckles and looks up and at you, "His name's Megumi."

You nod and smile before dipping back around the corner and into the room you'd previously been in. You make sure to quietly shut the door behind you and then patiently wait to hear Megumi emerge from his room.

After about five more minutes, you hear his door open and footsteps rush past the room you're in. Megumi is heard in the kitchen taking a seat at one of the barstools.

"Here," Toji sighs, "Try these two before you go and tell me which one is better."

Megumi's face scrunches up, "If you made them, then they both probably taste like shi-"

"Just eat the damn sandwich." Toji cuts him off, frowning at his son in an annoyed manner.

With a roll of his eyes, Megumi goes for the one Toji made first, taking a single bite and dramatically making a disgusted face in reaction. "Daaad, there's like two whole jars of jelly on thiiiiis," He whines.

Toji's expression remains blank, "Yeah yeah, now eat the other one."

"I'm scared..." Megumi mumbles with a pout as he moves for the second sandwich. Toji leans over the counter and watches his son take one bite and then raise his brows. "You made this?" Megumi questions.

"Yep," Toji lies, now frowning at the fact that there's a noticeable difference in his son's reaction to his sandwich versus yours.

"Bullshi-"

"Megumi if you curse one more time, I'm throwin' you out that window over there," Toji cuts off sarcastically.

Megumi sighs, nearly chuckling at his father's dramatic threat, "But you curse all the time."

"I'm a grown-ass man."

"See?" The kid scoffs before moving out of his seat and grabbing the second sandwich he tasted. He then moves to shove the rest of it into a ziplock bag and then drops it into his bookbag, leaving the sandwich his father made on the counter. "Anyways, thanks for not making this one too bad."

"Oh, so you like the sandwiches like that?" Toji asks.

"Yeah, it's even. Not too much peanut butter or jelly. Make all of them like that please." Megumi requests as he moves to grab his shoes.

Toji watches his son near the front door of their home, "I'll try."

His kid nods his head in response before opening the door and making sure his bookbag is on properly, "Thanks. Bye Dad."

"Mhm, cya." Toji hums in response while moving to clean the mess made in the kitchen.

You hear the front door shut and then wait a few minutes before emerging from the bedroom yet again. When you get to the kitchen, you notice the sandwich you made is completely gone and Toji's is still sitting in the same place. Then, you see the older man straightening his kitchen up.

"What was that you said about him hating both sandwiches?" You ask tauntingly as you cross your arms.

Toji sends you a look, "Shut up."

You chuckle, "He seems like a good kid," You say to change the subject.

"He's alright," Toji grumbles while snatching up his abandoned sandwich from the counter. "If he keeps fuckin' with me I'm gonna sell him," He says sarcastically.

Your eyes go wide, "Sell him?!"

He shrugs, "He'd go for a lot of money too, I bet."

"Mr. Fushiguro that's your son." You say, emphasizing your words.

Toji starts laughing, "I know, I know. I just kiddin'."

"Uhuh..." You hum, nodding and smiling at him.

You end up helping him straighten up his kitchen a bit and afterward, he offers to drive you home. You didn't want to run the possibility of Shoko or anyone else you know seeing Toji drop you off so instead, you told him you'd call a friend to come get you.

With a shrug, Toji said okay and then he went off to prepare himself for his day. You ended up putting your dress back on and leaving the shirt he gave you neatly folded up on the bed you slept on.

After which, you give Toji one last bye before heading outside. It was decently early in the morning and the chilly fall breeze was brushing up against your exposed skin as you walked down the street a bit. You didn't want to call your 'friend' (Gojo) to come pick you up from right outside Toji's house so you made sure to distance yourself a bit.

Luckily for you, there was a bench just down the street that you found yourself sitting at. The phone call you made to Gojo was relatively short and how quickly he got to where you were surprised you.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"Did you fuck Mr. Fushiguro again?" Was Gojo's first question to you as soon as you got into his car and buckled yourself in.

You release a sigh before responding. "Yep. That's another six thousand if I'm not mistaken," You claim, turning your head to look at him with an innocent little smile on your face.

He blinks, "You're lucky I love you, y'know that right?"

There's a pulse felt within your heart. Just when is he going to stop saying that? "Am I?" You ask.

Gojo scoffs, "Yeah, do you even know how much money I've given you so far?"

You shrug casually, "Am I supposed to be keeping track?"

"I mean you don't have to but I'm surprised you don't," Gojo hums, smiling a little, "You're like a spoiled princess now..."

"I'm not sure princesses get paid to fuck hot guys," You utter before looking away from him and his stupid smile that makes your heart rate increase. "And wait, how did you know I slept with Mr. Fushiguro again?"

"Uhm, he lives down this street. I babysat his kid and I know where they live, remember?" Gojo explains.

"Oh... Wait, speaking of that... Satoru," You turn your head to him and you see light pink decorating his cheeks at the mere sound of his first name leaving your lips. He looks like an idiot in love and you think you hate every second of it, "What do you owe everyone on the list? Why are you in debt?"

His eyes widen and Gojo swallows hard, quickly snatching his gaze off of you and moving his hands to the steering wheel in front of him so that he can start driving. "Does it matter?" He asks you, his brows furrowing.

"I mean, I'm just curious." You say flatly, "How do you even come up with the gift of a whore being your form of payment? And again, what do you owe-"

"Did you just call yourself a whore?" Gojo cuts off.

"Yeah, it's not the first time-"

"Stop that." He says, making a left down the next street, "You're not just some whore, okay?"

"Ohhh so I'm a special whore? Got it." You utter sarcastically.

"I'm serious, don't call yourself a whore. That's not what you are." He says sternly.

"Fine, a slut then." You argue, shrugging a little, "Either way, I'm still spreading my legs for a bunch of guys."

"First off, sluts don't get paid to sleep around, you do." Gojo clarifies, "Secondly, I'm forcing you to do these things so in a sense, you're not a whore."

"But... I am." You argue anyway, "That's what you're using me for so that's what I've become."

"You don't have to claim that, it's degrading your character."

You scoff, "And since when do you care about me degrading my character, Satoru? It's the fucking truth. I fuck people and get paid, know what that means?" You utter sarcastically and slightly bothered, "I'm a whore."

Gojo slams on the brakes and stops the car at a stop sign, turning to you with anger written all over his face, "You're not a whore! Stop fucking saying that." He shouts.

That was his first time ever yelling at you.

A moment of silence fills the air followed by his harsh tone. Hell, you don't even think you've ever seen Gojo so upset over something before. It was weird to see him like this. All the aggravation in his tone and in his expression over a word that's been loosely used plenty of times before?

Your eyes narrow at him, in no world would you let Gojo yell at you and just sit there and take it. "The hell are you so upset for? You've called me a whore yourself-"

"No, I haven't." He interrupts, "Never in my life have I referred to you as a whore."

Your face scrunches up, "Uhm, yes you have? After the first time I slept with Mr. Fushiguro and you saw Choso had taken me home, you called me a whore because you thought I slept with three guys in one day." You recall flawlessly.

Not flawlessly enough though, "No, sweetheart. I asked if you were becoming a whore. I implied it but I never flat-out called you that shit."

"Implying it is practically calling me it, dumbass."

"It's not. If I imply the fact that someone's a bitch, does that make them a bitch?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Exactly. And when I asked if you were becoming a whore it was because I was pissed, not that my emotions make up for it but still." Gojo rambles. He's so passionately aggressive about this topic for some odd reason, "Plus, I don't know if you forgot but I literally told you I never agreed on you becoming a whore."

"I didn't forget but did you forget what I responded to that with?" You ask, annoyed by this conversation. "I asked you if that's what I've been from the start."

"Okay, and-"

"And your response to me was maybe." You finish.

He nods his head and then smiles a bit, still appearing angered, "Then I said the list was different because it was supposed to be you fucking someone once and getting paid, not multiple times."

"Okay, well it's not me fucking someone once. Get over it and pay me like you promised to." You respond simply.

"You don't have to ever worry about me not paying you, sweets. That's not what this conversation was about to begin with." Gojo replies, "I just don't want you to think or feel like you're a whore because you're not."

"That's what I feel like though. I fuck then get paid." You say blatantly, shrugging. "I don't understand how else I'm supposed to feel."

"Lessen the number of times you fuck people and maybe you won't feel like that." He suggests.

That set's you off just right, an annoyed smirk pulling at your lips, "Well, sorry that last night Sukuna left me horny and I happened to run into Mr. Fushiguro at the right time." You say sarcastically.

Gojo opens his mouth to reply but he's cut off by you.

"Sorry that I wanted to have sex last night. Sorry that I got into your car and reminded you that you have to pay me for it because it's what you agreed on." You go off, "Oh, and sorry that these actions of mine all stem from you and this stupid fucking list!"

For a moment, Gojo's quiet. He simply stares at you, the car having yet to move since he stopped it. With perfect timing, a car pulls up behind the two of you. Gojo looks away from you and moves to park the car somewhere.

After that, he sighs and rests his head back, "So you're blaming this on me?"

"Who the fuck else am I supposed to blame?" You snap instantly, having not cooled off at all, "I didn't record myself and threaten me with it. I don't owe a whore to a bunch of people. And I didn't start this damn list."

"Right." He nods, "But you left your door wide open-"

"So that gave you the right to come in and record me?" You fire back.

Gojo scoffs, feeling pissed. "Told' you that was an accident."

"As if I fucking believe that."

"Okay well, you're still the one doing extra shit that has nothing to do with the list-"

"Y'know, I didn't hear you complain this much last week when I slept with you." You cut off, "Funny how you only find this much to bitch about when I'm fucking anyone that's not you more than once."

"First off, I'm not bitching about anything." Gojo clarifies. He's upset with you for the first time and it's unusual to see and experience, "I'm being serious with you right now. You complained about feeling like a whore even though I'm trying to tell you that's not what you are, then, your argument to that is the list? The things that are making you feel like a whore are the things you're bringing on yourself."

Your face scrunches up, "What-"

"I never told you to fuck Suguru more than once. Nobody told you that you had to fuck Mr. Fushiguro twice, and god knows how many times you and Choso had sex." Gojo expresses, "If you feel like a whore, that's not because of me-"

"I wouldn't have slept with any of those people in the first place if it wasn't for you." You remind him for what feels like the millionth time, "Did you forget that?"

"No, I know. But even though it's because of me, you wouldn't have felt like a whore if you only slept with them once like you were supposed to."

"Right," You smile and scoff, "Sure."

"And even if you did feel like one," Gojo slowly turns his head to look at you, his eyes dead serious, "I'd tell you a thousand times over again; you are not a whore."

"Well," You purse your lips together, "I'm turning into one and nothing you say will make me feel like I'm not-"

Gojo interrupts you by saying your name. You think your entire body freezes at the sound. It's always been sweetheart or sweets or love or any affectionate nickname. The last time you heard Gojo say your first name was the day the list started.

You try to continue anyway, "Like I-I'm not a-"

He utters your name yet again, those blue eyes of his drilling into the side of your face.

"N-No, let me finish," You say, your voice softening unintentionally, "There's nothing you can say to make me feel like I'm not a wh-"

First and last, your full name leaves his lips in a low tone.

You grit your teeth and finally shut up.

"Look at me," Gojo orders. You don't and he scoffs. Gojo tips his head to the side a bit and narrows his eyes, "Fucking look at me." He repeats, no malice heard in his tone.

With a roll of your eyes and a huff, you turn to him, "What?"

"You're not a whore." He says, his tone going completely soft, "If you want someone to demean like that, demean me, not yourself."

You blink, not knowing what to say to him anymore.

"But please," Gojo's gaze goes gentle, his face twisting up in sorrow, "Don't call yourself a whore."

"Satoru." You say, voice completely calm, "I-"

For one last time, Gojo cuts you off by voicing your name in a gentle tone. "You are not a whore." He whispers.

You swallow down whatever arguments you had to that. You have no idea what it was about his tone and the look in his eyes but suddenly, you felt that need to argue with him lifted.

"Okay," You whisper in response.

"Say it," Gojo instructs.

With another swallow, "I'm not a whore." You tell him.

A small smile spreads across his face, "Thank you." He utters.

It was weird. Is this the same man who blackmails you? He's whoring you out and yet doesn't want you to refer to yourself as such? Why? What's so significant about that word that you can't call yourself that?

"And uh," Gojo looks away from you, "I'm sorry for yelling at you..."

He mimics that of a sad puppy in a way. His look is almost... cute?

You decide to look away from him as well, "It's fine."

"Are you sure?" He asks timidly as if he regrets blowing up on you so suddenly.

You shrug, "Not really. I don't understand why the hell you got so mad in the first place..."

"I just..." Gojo trails off a little as he stares out the window in front of him, losing himself in thought for a minute. "I don't like hearing you talk about yourself like that. That's why I said if you're looking for someone to demean, demean me. If you're angry or frustrated with your situation," He glances over to you, "Take it out on me."

You blink, "So you just want me to beat up on you whenever I'm mad?"

"If it'll stop you from calling yourself any degrading names then, yes." Gojo expresses to you.

"This is..." You hesitate on your next words but eventually glance at him and continue, "This is oddly sweet of you?"

His eyes meet yours for only a moment before he looks away, "I wish I could be sweet to you all the time."

"You're sweet when you say I love you..." You tell him honestly, quickly adding on an, "I guess..." So that you don't praise him too much.

Gojo perks up and looks over at you, "I am?"

You look in the opposite direction, "I think anyone would be but, yes, you are."

He smiles, "I l-"

"Don't." You cut off, already knowing he was about to utter those three words to you.

He chuckles, "Sorry."

"Anyways, uhm... Don't I have to meet Nanami tonight?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Gojo remembers, moving to comfort himself in his seat since he has no plans on driving until your conversation is completely over. He rests his head on the palm of his hand, holding himself up against the console in between you two. "So remember when I told you he goes to this bar every Friday night?"

"Mhm." You hum in response.

"Well, I did some more research on it and it's more of this fancy nightclub."

A little scoff leaves you and you glance at Gojo, "Nanami goes to a fancy nightclub every Friday night?"

"Okay, it's like seventy-five percent bar and twenty-five percent club." He explains further.

You narrow your eyes at him, "So what are you saying all this for...?"

"For starters, there's a dress code," Gojo says.

"Ohhh, so it's a fancy fancy nightclub." You reply playfully.

He smiles, "Yeah, you'll have to dress pretty classy to get in."

"Okay and if I had to guess," Your head turns to face him completely, "You already bought me a dress for this?"

"Fifteen different ones actually," Gojo corrects.

"F-Fifteen? How much did you spend?!"

He shrugs, "They weren't expensive..."

"The last dress you told me wasn't expensive was almost a thousand dollars..." You state blankly.

"Oh," His eyebrows raise, "Is that considered expensive?"

You scoff in surprise, "Seriously, where the fuck are you getting this money from?"

"Onlyfans," He says with a wink.

"Genuinely can't tell if you're joking or not right now..." You reply, smiling and yet shaking your head at him.

Gojo chuckles at your reaction, "I'm joking, don't worry."

"So where's the money come from?"

"Well, I am popular online and I get paid a lot from that I guess."

You raise a brow, "What exactly do you do online again...?"

"Uhhh..." He trails off, his eyes wandering away from yours.

You chuckle at the way he avoids your eyes, "...You post thirst traps, don't you?"

"N-No..." Gojo mumbles.

You begin to move for your phone, shrugging casually, "I'm gonna check."

Gojo's eyes snap back onto you and they go wide in worry, "Oh my god, please don't."

"Why are you so worried?" You laugh, "I thought you'd be all cocky about this kinda' thing."

He pouts, "Why would I be cocky about you seeing the content I put out..."

"I mean anything online is nothing I haven't seen before." You point out simply, knowing that no amount of thirst traps will compare to literally having sex with the man.

"I..." Gojo swallows hard, "Listen it's not the kind of thirst traps you're thinking of..."

You pause the movement of your fingers and look at him, raising a brow, "So, what, you're not half-naked with red LED lights in the background?"

"Not really." He hums.

"Oh..." You frown dramatically, "Booooringgg."

Gojo chuckles at you before deciding to give you a hint about what he puts out, "If you had to pick one feature about me that you think girls would be into, what would it be?"

"Uhm..." You stare at him for a moment, "Why are you asking me this as if you're literally not Gojo Satoru?"

"What's that got to do with anything?" He blinks.

"You're the walking definition of sex appeal."

His brows raise at your words, "Am I?"

"Human embodiment of sexy." You continue to thoughtlessly compliment.

"Oh really?" Gojo smirks, "Keep going..."

"You're-," You suddenly stop yourself and narrow your eyes at him "Y'know what, I think you get it by now."

"Mhm..." He hums, having enjoyed hearing you compliment him, "Now, tell me just one feature you think girls find overly attractive."

"Just one? There's so many though."

"C'mon, just one."

You shrug, "Your eyes."

He blinks, a noticeable shade of blush spreading across his cheeks immediately in reaction to your words. Gojo is oddly adorable when receiving compliments from you, almost as if he's not used to it.

He bats his eyelashes at you, "My eyes?"

"You literally have blue eyes and white eyelashes," You say flatly, "Why are you acting like you don't get that all the time?"

"I mean it's different coming from you."

"How?"

"That means that's the first thing you notice about me..." He murmurs quietly, nearly missing your ears, "But, no that's not it. Now name something else you think is attractive."

Your eyes search the man for a moment, gazing at his clear skin, pretty face, gorgeous hair, sharp jawline, remembering his abs, thinking about his arms and how they feel, and then finding yourself staring at his hands.

You blink, "Your ha..." You cut yourself off, not wanting to give away the genuine attraction you have for his hands. "Your abs-"

Gojo cuts you off, having heard what you were about to say, "You had the first one right."

"Your hands?!" You gasp.

He smiles, "Why do you sound surprised as if you don't like them yourself-"

"Wait, oh my god, so that means you do hand and finger thirst traps?!" You say with a slightly dropped jaw.

Gojo looks away from you, "On one of my pages, yes. Though, I still don't get the appeal-"

"Gojo your hands are literally perfect." You interrupt.

His ears redden but he looks at you again, moving to put his hand out, "What about them are perfect?"

You inspect the part of his body in question, moving to drag a finger along his skin, "The veins... the length... how soft they are..." You slowly get carried away as you feel them, "...how warm... how deep inside me they reach..."

"Woah," Gojo can't help but flash a toothy smile, "I don't think any of my fans can feel that last one sweetheart-"

"That makes it better for some reason, honestly." You shrug.

"Yeah?" He bites his bottom lip a little, "Y'like knowing that you're the only one who gets to have my fingers deep inside your pu-"

"Stop." You cut off, your face flushing as you look away from him.

He leans just a bit closer to you, "So you can say it but I can't?"

"Your version was going to be far more explicit." You hum, avoiding those teasing looks of his.

"So? It's true." Gojo replies, watching as you feel his hand, "You are the only girl that I've ever fingered after all..."

Your movements come to a stop and you look at him, "Wait what?"

"Hm?" Gojo hums, shifting his hand to hold yours suddenly.

You wanted to stop the gesture but you didn't, "What do you mean I'm the only girl you've ever fingered...?"

His shoulders rise into a shrug and his eyes remain on how small your hand is in his, "Never felt like fingering a girl before you."

"Then how..." You trail off as you recall that moment with him before shaking your head, "Nevermi-"

"How did I know how to do it so well?" He finishes for you.

"I mean... yeah..."

"For starters," Gojo spreads his hand out, having your palm rest over his and comparing the size difference, "I have long fingers so naturally I reach deeper inside you."

"Okay..." You murmur.

"And everything else I just figured out as I did it." He says cheekily, flicking his gaze up to your face, "Didn't expect you to cum from that alone though-"

"Okay okay," Your face flushes a deep shade, "We don't have to talk about it anymore..."

"Aw, why?" He coos, teasing you, "I like remembering that time. Y'know, thinking about how tight your pussy felt around my fingers-"

"Jesus Satoru," Your eyes widened at his lewd words, "Stop it."

"How warm and wet you were for me." He continues nonetheless.

"Satoru-"

A smile spreads across his face at how embarrassed you get in reaction to his words, "The way you moaned my name almost made me cream my pants too-"

"Satoru." You say sternly.

Gojo pulls his lower lip into his mouth for a moment, carefully letting it slide back out as he stares at your face, "Hm? Yes, sweetheart?"

"Stop it." You order.

His fingers suddenly curl in between yours before he pulls your hand up to his mouth, gently kissing the back of it. "Yes ma'am..." Gojo whispers against you.

"Anyway..." You whisper, ignoring how fast your heart is beating, "So taking videos of your hands is how you make money?"

"It's how I make some of it, yeah," Gojo replies, just barely taking his lips off your hand.

You nod, "I see... Well, you're gonna have to explain where the rest of your money is coming from one day because I swear if I find out the money you've given me is illegal or something-"

"It's not, I swear." He reassures you. "I'd give my life savings to you before ever putting you in a position like that."

It's weird but, you smile slightly at his words. Then, you watch in comfortable silence as Gojo moves to kiss the back of your hand over and over. His lips are so soft against your skin, so affectionate, and so utterly loving that it almost infects you.

The hand kisses are enough to give you butterflies and the moment you feel that, you're quick to casually pull your hand away.

Gojo pouts at the loss of your hand but he doesn't say anything, simply moving to finally start driving again.

According to him, you've got fifteen dresses to go through and pick before the night approaches, and then after that; you'll finally meet Nanami.

Or at least, that was the plan. You weren't expecting things to go down the way it did.

No one could prepare you for the feelings that lay deep within the male in the car with you right now...

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: ???

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