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#my wedding. but I do still have all the memories with her. going to a nice hotel as a little‘vacation’ when I graduated 5th grade.
scribbling-dragon · 8 days
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sometimes I think about my years as a scout. and then wonder how im still alive/sane
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ioniiaa · 2 months
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My Darling, My Honey
Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 14- FINALE!)
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 14 (Final)
Part 14:
A few weeks had passed by the time you were fully recovered. In those weeks, the hotel was busy and bustling in preparation for the wedding.
To make sure you recovered properly, Charlie insisted that she and Vaggie be in charge of wedding planning during this time. You didn't have any objections to it, your only requirements were that it was kept low-key (meaning a small wedding with only those closest to you guys) and that it was to be a simple and short ceremony with Charlie as the officiant.
While the rest of the gang were busy going about their normal lives and helping out with some preparation here and there, Alastor had your belongings moved to his room and took care of your injuries and saw to your recovery personally.
It broke his heart to see how badly you had been injured prior to your arrival at the hotel. He also felt extremely guilty about how roughly he had treated you, accidentally making some of your injuries worse temporarily. To heal his heart and mind, he had to heal your body first.
The two of you spent so much time together, hardly ever spent a moment apart- you two had a lot of lost time to make up for after all. Often as Alastor tended to your injuries, changed your bandages, and even helped bathe you to ensure you wouldn't slip or fall as you got in and out of the tub- you two exchanged stories of all kinds. Stories from when you were both alive, your pasts when alive, and so much that had happened in the decades in Hell that had passed when the two of you were separated.
As the date of the ceremony approached, after you had mostly recovered, matters required you to leave the hotel more often.
For example, when it came to dress shopping, Alastor was very insistent that he had to come with- he was still very paranoid that if you were separated from his side that you would come to harm. Though with enough pestering- Charlie was finally able to convince him to stay at the hotel so that the wedding dress shopping party only consisted of you, Charlie, and Angel.
Shopping with the two of them was a fun memory you'll never forget, with lots of laughter because of the hilarious contrast between Charlie's wholesome comments/tearing up and Angel's teasing/cat-calling (in a loving way- of course). Though when you finally tried on the dress, even Angel had no witty comebacks to respond with, both him and Charlie were left speechless.
Angel and Charlie weren't the only ones speechless - when those who were invited to the wedding showed up the hotel, they all had their mouths gaping open at the amazing decor. They few guests assumed that the invitation they received in the mail was a prank!
(Charlie may have needed to ask some favors from Lucifer for the decorations- though he couldn't hide his disgust as to who his daughter was asking him to do this for... His distaste for Alastor was always apparent. But who are we kidding- Lucifer can't resist Charlie's puppy-dog begging eyes no matter what.)
Jovial jazz music filled the air as Alastor walked out into the main lobby, "Why hello! It is so good to see you, Rosie! ... Mimzy."
"Oh Alastor! How come ya never introduced me to ya darlin' (y/n) before!" Rosie flashed her signature smile and sauntered over to give Alastor a tight hug.
"Yeah! Geeze, Alastor, after all we've been through, you never thought to bring her over to my joint or ya know, let me know she was even down here! I've missed the gal too, ya know!" Mimzy stomped on over to Alastor, hands on her hips as she glared at him.
"Hmmmm. Ah yes, Mimzy. How could I ever forget to bring her over to your... "sophisticated"... bar where she "definitely wouldn't" be in danger?" Static noises started to interrupt the music that had started playing earlier. Alastor would be lying if he said he was happy to see Mimzy. He knew she was important to you, but part of him can't help but blame her for your early death. Not only that, but she always had a habit of bringing trouble wherever she went, forcing him to clean up her messes. He didn't trust her to keep you out of danger.
"Well! If I do say so myself, I am parched! Where can a lady quench her thirst in this joint?" Rosie piped up to break up the tension as she walked around the room and examined the decor some more. "Alastor, I really love what ya guys did to this place- stunning work, really!"
"Oh my gosh, hi, Rosie! Nice to meet you again, Mimzy! It's been so long!" Charlie seemingly burst out of nowhere and shook both Rosie and Mimzy's hands. For once Alastor was thankful for the princess's ability to not read the room.
"This way, this way! The ceremony will be held in one of the ballrooms, follow me!"
After being relieved of Rosie and Mimzy's presence, Alastor disappeared into the shadows to retreat into this radio tower where he would remain until it was time.
With Rosie and Mimzy's arrival, the last of the guests had arrived. Yup, it was a very small group- just as you had requested (much to Alastor's relief. He could easily handle people, but you knew large groups of people irritated him much more than he would let on).
Meanwhile, Angel was helping you get ready. He knew his way around makeup and beauty the best out of anyone in the hotel after all.
You sat on a stool as Angel fussed over all the little details of your hair and makeup. As he did so with remarkable speed (due to his many arms), you found yourself smiling.
Not only was it the day that you would finally exchange vows with your beloved Alastor, but you found yourself smiling as you reminisced on the journey that led up to this moment- how you've come to truly cherish your newfound friendships with everyone at the hotel.
Angel, who became a very close friend to you after you two had many heart-to-hearts and shared a fondness for cracking jokes, something you discovered over many nights at the bar together. Often after you two were done at the bar, you'd have beauty/spa nights which often led to more gossip sessions- something you were never able to indulge in when you were alive. Occasionally even Cherri joined in on the gossip sessions- practically bursting the door down if she ever felt like stopping by unannounced.
Husk, was someone you could always trust him to give his honest and objective opinion on anything you asked- which you found to be invaluable whenever you showed him any of your art. Though he often didn't understand the abstract complexities you drew, it was always a great source of entertainment for you- his confusion apparent as he tried to interpret it seriously before giving up with a "Fuck it, I don't know anything about this bougie shit!" - always causing you to erupt in laughter every time without fail.
Charlie, of course, was always your ray of sunshine and was someone you very much respected. She saved your life without knowing who you were, regardless of the potential danger. You feel as if you'd never be able to repay her kindness, so you offer to stay at the hotel even after you recover and help work however you can after the wedding.
Vaggie, you felt a kindred spirit in and also respected a great deal. Someone with such an intense sense of justice and duty was truly a sight to see, you could always see it in her eyes. She was often busy, so you hadn't been able to spend as much time with her as you would have liked to so far, the few times you were able to sit down with her were always a pleasure. Whenever she needed love/relationship advice, she came to you. Funnily enough, Charlie did too, so you were flattered that the two girls liked and trusted you so much.
Even Nifty, who always made sure to dust you or pluck some random out-of-place hair whenever she saw you, stopped calling you stinky! You wondered if it was because you spent most of your time around Alastor...?
"Alright! Hehe, you look absolutely stunning if I do say so myself, doll face!" Angel stood back from you to admire his work with a huge satisfied grin on his face.
He spun you around to face the mirror that your back was previously facing, "Hey, whaddya think? One of my best works yet!"
You chuckle and lean in closer to the mirror, "Wow... Angel! Gosh... you never cease to amaze me!"
You then stand up and give Angel a hug, "Thank you... Angel... this means a lot to me..." Angel pulls back from the hug and nudges you in the shoulder, "Hey now toots, no crying on me now! We just finished your makeup, don't go ruining it now!"
"I know! I know! Haha!" You laugh and smack him back playfully.
"Ah shit, it's almost time, we gotta get a move on, come on!" Angel quickly grabs your bouquet with one hand and takes your hand wit another and leads you down what feels like a maze of corridors. He lets go of your hand when the two of you reach a set of double doors that indicates it's one of the ballrooms and not just a regular room.
Upon hearing your arrival, you see Charlie's head peek out of the door. After seeing you standing there, she quickly sneaks of the ballroom. "FIrst of all- oh my gosh (y/n)! You look BEAUTIFUL! But it's time for your entrance, lets go!" Charlie offers her arm out to you. You link your arm through her's, then you look over at Angel who hands you your bouquet, "You got this ,(y/n)." He said with a wink before slipping into the ballroom.
You took a deep breath and looked at Charlie who gave you a heartwarming nod as she took a step closer to the door, hand grasping the handle. "Ready, (y/n)?"
"I've been ready for decades."
Upon entering the small ballroom, soft jazz music filled the air and you gasped as you took a look around the stunningly decorated space. Charlie was very insistent that this be a surprise and by god, you were speechless- you never could have dreamed of a more beautiful space to finally exchange vows with your beloved Alastor. You were starting to get misty-eyed already!
The very same Alastor who was now all dressed up in a new formal outfit and stood at the other end of the ballroom with his hand outstretched towards you. It took all the self-control you had to keep you from running into his arms right then and there.
Walking to the front, you pass by the small group of friends both you and Alastor had invited to this exclusive occasion. You could see Rosie clutching her hands to her chest in awe, Mimzy was trying to fight back tears as she kept dabbing her eyes (ruining her makeup in the process), and the rest of the hotel members. Angel was clinging onto Husk for dear life as you heard a quiet whisper from the spider that was accompanied by a dramatic sniffle, "Oh god I never knew I was capable of feeling so sappy."
You chuckled at the sight of Nifty, who volunteered to be your "flower girl". She was scurrying all around, scattering petals but then immediately picking them back up again like it was the best game ever!
"Oh, be still my dead-yet-beating heart" You thought to yourself as you finally reached the front of the ballroom and were able to place your hands in Alastor's. You'd never seen Alastor this dressed up before. You always thought he was attractive but oh my god, was this a whole new playfield that you didn't even know was possible!
Charlie then went to stand next to Vaggie, who were both your officiants for the wedding. A bit untraditional, sure, but this was Hell- everything's a bit unconventional here.
The music fades to a quiet level before Charlie pipes up, starting the ceremony, "Thank you all for coming to celebrate this momentous occasion with us today! Today we are here to commemorate the marriage between (y/n) and Alastor!"
"In a shocking twist of events, the last few weeks have proven us wrong that yes, even the Radio Demon, is still capable of love." This remark from Vaggie earns a few chuckles from those sitting in the guest seats, earning a glare from Alastor as he tightened his grip on your hands. You rub your thumbs over his hands in reassurance, causing his grip to relax again. You smile at Charlie and Vaggie, nodding as you signal them to continue.
Charlie cleared her throat before she continued, "Ahem! Yes! But with that, we also gained an amazing new friend here - (y/n)! And I just want to say (y/n) that I am SO proud of you, you've done nothing but bring lots of joy and laughter into this hotel. I think I can speak for everyone when I say that we love you and appreciate you (y/n)! Alastor is a very lucky man and we are honored to be a part of your journey!" You could hear some applause and a holler that likely came from Angel- because you heard a scoff from Husk that followed immediately after.
"That's right, Charlie! Because we respect you both so much, we'll not delay you two love-birds from finally exchanging your vows any longer." Vaggie said as she dragged Charlie away to take a seat in the audience.
You take a deep breath and look into Alastor's eyes, your heart racing a mile a minute.
"I honestly thought I would know what to say by now! I've been dreaming of this day for decades!" You nervously laugh out loud before continuing, "All I can think about now is how thankful I am to have met you when we were alive. You gave me a spark of light and hope in the darkness that I never thought was possible in my life. Meeting you gave me the courage to break free from the cage that kept me trapped like a poor little bird who couldn't fly free. You showed me what true love should be like- even if it meant eating a few people along the way... haha. But you treasured me, you gave my life meaning again and I'll always love you. I'll always be your's, Alastor."
You look down at the floor, embarrassed that you spilled your heart out in front of so many people. Now it was Alastor's turn to reassure you with a gentle squeeze of the hands.
"My dearest (y/n), now, I am not usually one to be so 'sappy'- especially in the company of others, however, I think I can make an exception for you this one time."
Alastor took one hand, the other still holding your other hand, and gently lifted your chin back up so that your gaze would be back on him. To say that this made your heart skip a few beats would be an understatement!
"It may still shock you all, but yes, (y/n) is indeed my beloved that was taken from me all too soon back when we were alive. When I buried her body and held her in my arms for what I thought was the last time- I said these words that still ring true to this very day and will continue to do so forever more-, ' In life and in death, I am forever yours, as you are forever mine. I love you, (y/n)' " You feel the tears start to well up even more, threatening to burst forth at any second, all while not breaking eye contact with him as he continues on.
"I truly relish in this opportunity to finally make you mine, as I had wished to do so for what feels like an eternity. Much like you had described dear, your surprise appearance in my day-to-day life truly shook my world. Why, upon meeting you for the very first time, hearing your voice felt like it was akin to listening to most beautiful music I had ever heard- truly! As a radio host, I was very familiar with many musicians, but no instrument or vocalist ever held a candle to you my dear. No ever has and no one ever will, and I will be sure to protect you at all costs this time, ma chérie ..."
As he trailed off, your face immediately flushed red all over at Alastor's vows. But before you had time to process what was happening, Alastor manifested a new pair of rings and slid one onto your left hand, replacing the previous one. Then with a snap of the fingers, the other matching ring appeared on his left hand.
Somehow the rings were even more beautiful than the one you had before. Upon seeing the sight of both your and Alastor's hands finally wearing matching rings, you burst out into tears, overcome with emotion.
Alastor chuckles before pulling you in for a kiss- shocking everyone in the room, everyone making a collective gasp. Even your own eyes were wide open in shock, before you then relaxed into the kiss in Alastor's embrace.
It wasn't before long that the room was filled with cheers, hoots, hollers, and clapping.
Pulling away from the kiss, Alastor leaned his forehead against your's- just a brief sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he stared lovingly into your eyes. You sniffle as you return the smile, chuckling at the sensation of your cheeks feeling sore from smiling so much and so intensely.
"I truly adore you with all my heart and soul, dearest. Thank you, for being the one to complete me."
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thesoftboiledegg · 2 years
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What makes JKR's shitshow even harder to process is that she didn't just ruin a book series. Harry Potter was an entire subculture. Like Star Wars and Star Trek fans, Harry Potter fans dedicated their lives and careers to the series. I don't know if I'd call it "underground," but liking Harry Potter got you beaten up when I was in school, so it was more of a dedicated indie culture than a mass-appeal fanbase.
Harry Potter was so huge that fan works developed their own followings. Potter Puppet Pals racked up hundreds of thousands of followers and was nearly as relevant as the series itself. For fanfiction, Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality got so big that it has a Wikipedia page. The band Harry and the Potters spawned the wizard rock music genre. A Very Potter Musical developed a fanbase and launched Darren Criss's career.
Harry Potter also has extensive ties to fandom history. Everyone in my generation (millennials) remembers coming home from school to read Harry Potter fanfiction on the Internet. Today, most people just post their stories on Wattpad or Archive of Our Own. But at the time, the fanbase was splintered between fanfiction.net and dozens of individual websites and forums, some made for specific ships. Since they all had individual hosts, a lot of those sites have been lost to time.
And there's the infamous My Immortal fanfiction, which is an Internet legend with people still searching for the author. Everybody read that one (and laughed at it) in middle school.
Pre-social media, fan sites like The Leaky Cauldron and Mugglenet had massive followings because they were one of few sources for news, theories, essays and fan content. Some of these sites still exist after being around for over a decade and building their own legacy.
Before Deathly Hallows came out, fans were so desperate to know what happened that Mugglenet published a book called What Will Happen in Harry Potter 7: Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Falls in Love and How Will the Adventure Finally End? Yep...Harry Potter was so big that people wrote separate books about what would happen in an upcoming book.
And that's not mentioning all the book release parties, Harry Potter-themed events, monuments, fan films, restaurants and even a theme park. A lot of fandoms have those, but Harry Potter infiltrated every aspect of popular culture.
Today, there's a thriving culture of "Harry Potter adults" with themed weddings, baby showers and Etsy stores. Putting your Hogwarts house in your Instagram bio is pretty much a prerequisite for joining the "bookish" community. Warner still produces new content, like the Fantastic Beasts series, although we've all seen what a disaster that's been.
Everyone has at least a few memories associated with Harry Potter even if it's just watching the movies. I had great memories associated with Harry Potter. But looking back at the subculture, history and thousands of fan works, it doesn't seem fun anymore. Studying the fandom or being part of it comes with an awkward tension because you don't want to seem like you're condoning JKR's bigotry but can't divorce her from the series. This subculture was spawned by a woman who turned her legacy of magic and wonder into one of abuse and hatred.
I don't expect people to write paragraphs about how much they hate JKR every time they post about Harry Potter, but it's still uncomfortable to see people make new content or wear their Harry Potter Etsy tote bags like nothing happened. Even if they clarify that they don't support her, it's just a weird, tense situation for everybody.
People dedicated years of their lives to running Harry Potter fan sites, writing fanfiction, cosplaying characters and making fan movies. If I were in that situation, I'd have a mild identity crisis. I'd ask myself "Did I waste all those years? Should I delete my content? Where do I go from here?"
So ultimately, JKR didn't ruin "just" a book series or even "just" a fandom. She tanked an entire culture, which inspired people to look at Harry Potter more critically. The issues that people brought to the light tainted the series's legacy even without JKR's personal issues.
Once, Harry Potter was a series for generations. Now, former fans hope that the series fades into irrelevancy. Unfortunately, JKR didn't just tarnish her legacy--she took decades of history, millions of fans and a worldwide subculture along with her.
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plomegranate · 6 months
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i love palestinian and arab culture so much.
my grandma wearing thobes around the house and making us tamriyeh. my cousins wedding when we all wore thobes and keffiyehs and took photos downtown and we danced with someone playing the guitar on the street and this lady stopping us to tell us we all looked so beautiful. walking the graduation stage in a thobe. the girl who liked to guess arab peoples ethnicities telling me "you're wearing tatreez... do you want me to write 'palestinian' on your forehead?" the keffiyeh my brother keeps on the drivers seat of his car.
my dad sending me off to my last semester of college with 2 pomegranates and a jar of palestinian olive oil. my cousins wife coming up with new ways to make zaatar and cheese pastries. me and my grandma sitting on the floor and making waraq 3neb- my job was to separate the leaves so she could roll them easier. my mom sending me and my brother to school with eid cookies for my teachers and tasking us with delivering some to the neighbors. my aunt glaring at me and piling more food on my plate and then asking if i was still hungry (i wasnt). my mom always telling me to invite my friends and cousins over for dinner and asking me what they like to eat. my family getting my dad knafeh instead of cake for his birthday. the man who told me i made the "best fetteh in the western hemisphere".
the man in the shawarma shop who gave me my fries for free and baklava i didnt order because we spoke about being palestinian while he took my order. the person on tumblr who i bonded with because we are from the same palestinian city. the girl i met on campus who exclaimed "youre palestinian? me too!" because i was wearing my keffiyeh. the girl in my class that showed me the artwork about palestine her dad made and donated for fundraising. the couple in the grocery store who noticed my palestinian shirt and talked with me for 20 minutes and ended up being a family friend. the silly palestinian kids i tutored sighing in disappointment when i told them i was born in america because they were hoping that id have been born "somewhere cooler". my friends family who bought me dinner despite me being there by chance and having met me for the first time the day before.
the boys starting uncoordinated dabke lines in my high school's hallways. the songs about the longing and love for our land. the festivals and parties and gatherings where everything smells like shisha and oud. memories of waiting in the car for an hour as my parents talked at the doorway of their friends homes. my cousins and i showing up at each others homes with cake or fruit or games as if it was the first time we ever visited even though we always say "you dont have to".
kids stubbornly helping to clean and make tea after a meal while being told to go sit down because they are guests. the necklaces in the shape of our home countries. people hugging and laughing and acting as if theyve known each other for years because they come from the same city or know people with the same last name. the day i finally got to bully my friends into letting me pay the bill because i had a job and they were still students. my moms friend who calls us every time she's at the grocery store to see if we need something
palestinian people are so resilient and hardworking and charitable. they love their culture and their community and are so quick to share and welcome anyone in. everyday i am so thankful and proud to be part of such a warm and lovely culture
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deadghosy · 3 months
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“Why did you kiss me?”
“Because, you’re the only one who stayed with me.”
LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X GN! READER
FLUFF❤️/ SLIGHT SUGGESTIVE/ BAD GRAMMAR
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YOU WOKE UP in bed with Lucifer as you found the king of hell holding you close to his body as soft breathing was heard of the sleeping king. You stretched a little not wake up Lucifer as he mumbles in his sleep, “stay…with me…I need you…” the mumbles were cute as you smile at him softly.
You turn into a black vapor over to the side of the bed to stretch your wings and body. You are still pretty much tired but you have to go meet Charlie since you told her you would be there quick. You walk to the bathroom to get out of this cute cunty vibe robe without knowing that Lucifer woke up not feeling your body.
Lucifer touched the spot you were only to have tears in his eyes.
Did he dream of you being by him?
if so what was the dream so long. He misses you already like an abandoned puppy. He didn’t know if it was real or not as he lays on his stomach facing nothing, only the headboard of this bed you slept on with him. He wipes his eyes as he looked at his hand, his eyes widen to have seen the duck ring.
So it was real…
He was stock to say that you actually did stay with him that day as he blushes kissing the ring. He’s hate to admit it, but this could be the wedding ring of both of you and him if he decides to have balls and ask you. His thoughts stop as he hears the bathroom door open to see you exiting wearing his color scheme on an outfit that was quite formal.
“Good morning Luci.” You said with a smile as your voice was like honey to him and he was the bear. He loved your voice even if you didn’t think your voice was special. He smiled at you as he walks over and hugs you, nuzzling his apple like scent all over you as you just smile patting his back.
“Good morning my angel!” He said as he lifts you up with ease as you grip his shoulders. You were shocked to say that Lucifer never did this to you before. But he must be in a good mood to have done this. You just smile at him as he Carries you to the kitchen with a soft hum. As he hums you smile just getting use to his presence as it been so long you two masked in each other. He sits you down on one of the dining chairs as he goes to make pancakes.
You remember how he use to make pancakes with Charlie and you. It was such a lovable memory in your head as you check your phone to see Angel dust worried about you with 16 messages and 20 missed calls. Charlie called you 1 time and left 27 messages. Alastor left you 1 message as vaggie has send you 12 messages. Man your friends had missed you.
Lucifer broke your train of thought with his famous pancakes as he smiles that toothy charming smile everyone knows and love. He kisses your forehead showing you this new affection that was brought upon the two of you last night.
You both ate in comfortable peace as you two share a piece of bacon and just chatter about today and what will tomorrow bring. You could’ve sworn he kept staring at your neck as you just glanced away from him awkwardly as you look at you watch.
“Ah man..I gotta do Lu.” You said as you got up. Lucifer also got up in a hurry thinking of how to keep you here longer. But he knew he couldn’t as his daughter depends on you too…so it sucks as he nods with a frown. He goes over to you and smiles, “okay. Just be safe on the way out.”
You chuckled at that as you just nod and hold his arm, he looks at his arm as he kisses your hand up and then he kisses you on your lips. Making you surprised, your eyes widened but soon fell into the kiss as he puts his hands on your waist and you put your arms around his neck with a flustered face. He lifted you as you wrap your legs around his waist as he leaves your mouth and go down to your neck, nibbling and biting as he licks your neck up and down.
He couldn’t help himself but feel to claim you somehow as he places you on the dinning table of the kitchen. He kept biting as you wince gripping his shoulder. He bit you so hard you bleed without noticing, but he notice. He licked your neck, cleaning of the blood as he slightly whimpers looking up at you with his demonic red eyes.
“Did a kiss really get him that excited?” You thought as you lift his chin only for him to purr and move closer to kiss you more to the point you both won’t take it.
But you still had to help Charlie, so you push Lucifer’s head away with a smile. “Ah ah, can’t do that sir. I have to do tend to your daughter now. I’ll be back soon Lu-Lu.” With a final kiss to his eye with he whimpered rubbing his face on your neck. You got off the table dusting yourself and wiping the left over saliva from Lucifer on your neck. “Love you.” You said as you left the palace.
Lucifer stands there alone with his demon tail wagging with a derpy smile as he just excitedly.
“YES! THEY SAY THEY LOVE ME!! THEY’RE FINALLY MINE! TAKE THAT DEPRESSION!”
TIME AS PASSED as you check your phone to see love messages with hearts on them from Lucifer. This man is certainly high off your kisses from earlier as he is literally kicking his feet on his bed thinking of you. But you wanted to say something about the kiss so you started to text him.
Lucifer saw your text bubble as he brought his phone close to his face with a wide smile to see your text. This boy is whipped badly as he smiles waiting.
“Why did you kiss me?” You had asked over text as Lucifer stops smiling thinking of the most realistic answer ever as he nods and texted you back with a smug face.
“Because, you’re the only one who stayed with me.” He texted back with a flushed expression.
After that, you two started to text everyday. Sending love messages and everything to check up one and another.
Lucifer was finally happy.
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little-lynx · 1 year
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EVERLARK OUTFITS: THE VICTORY TOUR
This part of “Catching Fire” is done (finally) so I put it all together;) DISTRICT 11, THE SQUARE
I go to my compartment and let the prep team do my hair and makeup. Cinna comes in with a pretty orange frock patterned with autumn leaves. I think how much Peeta will like the color. <…> As the train is pulling into the District 11 station, Cinna puts the finishing touches on my outfit, switching my orange hairband for one of metallic gold and securing the mockingjay pin I wore in the arena to my dress. <…> I can hear the anthem beginning outside in the square. Someone clips a microphone on me. Peeta takes my left hand. // Catching Fire, ch. 4
I think this dress should be a little semi-official so I choose cape sleeve sheath midi dress. It’s perfect for autumn (and they have early autumn weather there in 11th). The hair is just plain + gold hairband = girlish innocent look like the one after the games (this tactics they choose for the Tour). Plus I wanted to draw Katniss with her natural straight hair because i draw her with her braid usually ;) And again nothing about Peeta’s outfit. You know I feel like Portia 😅 because I have to choose how to dress Peeta. I’m not complaining through. So it is black suit with golden buttons (matching Katniss’s hairband and pin), thin soft orange sweater and black leather shoes.
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DISTRICT 11, THE DINNER
A pale pink strapless dress brushes my shoes. My hair is pinned back from my face and falling down my back in a shower of ringlets. Cinna comes up behind me and arranges a shimmering silver wrap around my shoulders. He catches my eye in the mirror. “Like it?”  “It's beautiful. As always,” I say. “Let's see how it looks with a smile,” he says gently. // Catching Fire, ch.5
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DISTRICT 7
Jackson has devised a game called «Real or Not Real» to help Peeta. He mentions something he thinks happened, and they tell him if it’s true or imagined, usually followed by a brief explanation. <...> But since Peeta’s greatest confusion centers around me—and not everything can be explained simply—our exchanges are painful and loaded, even though we touch on only the most superficial of details. The color of my dress in 7. My preference for cheese buns. The name of our math teacher when we were little. Reconstructing his memory of me is excruciating. Perhaps it isn’t even possible after what Snow did to him. But it does feel right to help him try. // Mockingjay, ch. 19
So we have only one sentence in “Mockingjay” about this outfit. And still I decided to draw it because I have a theory (head canon?) about it. I think Peeta remembers the color of her dress because it was special night for him (a lot of kisses and attempts to sneak away from everyone and maybe it felt very real at times) and also because she had two braids and the dress was red. RED is the color ❤️. / Peeta has dark red + black + a little bit gold which is also sexy color combination.
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DISTRICT 5 I volunteer to take Annie back to my house in 12, where Cinna left a variety of evening clothes in a big storage closet downstairs. All of the wedding gowns he designed for me went back to the Capitol, but there are some dresses I wore on the Victory Tour.  <…> Annie wears a green silk dress I wore in 5, Finnick one of Peeta’s suits that they altered— the clothes are striking. <…>  As surely as the embroidery stitches in Annie’s gown were done by Cinna’s hand, the frosted flowers on the cake were done by Peeta’s.  // Mockingjay, ch. 16
Katniss: green silk dress + wavy sleeves + sea waves embroidery / Peeta: ivory dress shirt + knitted green waistcoat with sea waves embroidery + tweed suit
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DISTRICT 2
Girl talk. That thing I've always been so bad at. Opinions on clothes, hair, makeup. So I lie. “Yeah, he's been helping me design my own clothing line. You should see what he can do with velvet.” Velvet. The only fabric. I could think of off the top of my head. “I have. On your tour. That strapless number you wore in District Two? The deep blue one with the diamonds? So gorgeous I wanted to reach through the screen and tear it right off your back,” says Johanna. // Catching Fire, Chapter 15
This description gave me strong “Anastasia” feels 😅. So I loosely based Katniss dress on Anastasia’s ballet evening gown. For Peeta I chose tuxedo jacket similar to Salvatore Ferragamo design for FF 12/13.  Neo classic, purple velvet, shiny shoes. Also I decided to include a cane, both to help Peeta to have some rest during all this Tour activities and as an accessory.
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DISTRICT 12
When we reach the mayor's house, I only have time to give Madge a quick hug before Effie hustles me off to the third floor to get ready. After I'm prepped and dressed in a full-length silver gown, I've still got an hour to kill before the dinner, so I slip off to find her. <…> She [Madge] saw my reflection behind her and smiled. “Look at you. Like you came right off the streets of the Capitol.” // Catching Fire, ch.6
When I started drawing this one I just felt that I need to make it look very “Capitol”. So I added some feathers. A LOT of sparkling feathers, haha. Also there are some “moon and stars” accessories in Katniss’ hair because this silver gown gives me moonlight vibes. For Peeta I came up with classic suit but made him wear it casually.
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mactavishsgfandwife · 2 months
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Last Night’s Mistake - Simon "Ghost" Riley
the morning after not proofread nothing nsfw, angsty, with a little comfort at the end female reader
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A slight headache is all that remains from last night - confused, tired, achy, you slowly wake up. One by one, little sensations come to your attention. Your head hurts, your body feels warm, your hips still feel a little bit sore from where the uncomfortable skirt that you wore last night dug in. And you’re in bed, in a room, shady and quiet… with an empty space on the other side of the bed.
"Shit…" you groan, your voice a little sore from the night before. This isn’t your bed.
The floor is cool under your feet as you shakily stand up - a soreness growing in your legs. In the bedroom mirror, you inspect yourself. Though the girl staring back at you is the same girl you were last night, her hair is messed up and her face is a little flushed, her makeup having almost entirely worn off except for a hint of sparkle on her eyelids. Not to mention, she’s in nothing but her panties.
Whoever’s room this is, their wardrobe is pretty bare, the only civilian clothes being a few different t-shirts and vests, two dark-coloured hoodies, a pair of sweatpants, a pair of jeans, and some smart clothes for formal occasions. Not the cutest selection, but it would do, so you grabbed the black Led Zeppelin t-shirt and pulled it on.
Sat on his bed, you fixed your hair in the mirror as you tried to remember who he was. Little memories came back from the night before, unclear, like a half-forgotten dream. Drinks. A silver ring on his finger - not a wedding ring, you noted. You were in the car, with his rough hand on your thigh, playing with the hem of that god-awful skirt. Doors clicking, sheets ruffling, short blonde hair… oh my God, you’d fucked Simon Riley.
"Shit," you curse your idiocy, for the second time this morning.
You’ve wanted Simon, you’ve always wanted Simon, but he’s kind of a dick and not the kind of person you’d seriously want to be with. Plus, he’s a little bit older than you and not the kind of man who has girlfriends. He barely even has friends.
Finding a spare toothbrush in his bathroom, you brush your teeth, and clean yourself up with some water and his men’s face cream for lack of a moisturiser, not being able to completely remove the sparkle and shadow of eyeliner from around your eyes. But you know you can’t distract yourself for too long from facing last night’s mistake. Simon.
He’s sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea, in a pair of those plaid pyjama bottoms and a black tshirt that you’re pretty sure is exactly the same as three others you just saw in his wardrobe. He doesn’t make any effort to acknowledge you, focused on some work on his laptop. Maybe the same pit of regret over last night is sitting inside his stomach, maybe he doesn’t want to acknowledge you for fear that things won’t work out - after all, a regrettable one night stand is much more bearable than a rejection. But maybe he just doesn’t care, and you figure that’s more likely.
"Morning," you speak softly, a little taken aback by his lack of interest. It just feels so empty, and part of you is just begging him to show some emotion and put an end to this weird, uncomfortable limbo.
Of course, he doesn’t do that. He looks up at you nonchalantly, and nods, as if to say "morning. see you."
Something about that reaction hurts - even if he sees this as something mutually regrettable, the way that he dismisses your existence feels the the ultimate rejection. It’s not the sex, you figure, the sex was great. At least, that’s what the shaky aching of your legs and the marking on your neck is telling you. Maybe it was just you. And in those few seconds that you stare at each other blankly, not knowing what to add to fill the silence, all the exhaustion from last night and the discomfort of this morning hits you at once and all you want to do is cry.
"I should go," your voice falters a little, ashamed, as you head back into his bedroom to fetch the stuff you’d thrown on the floor beside his bed just last night. For a moment, before closing the door behind you, you wait for any sign of a reaction from the man on the sofa. Nothing. You close the door just as your breath starts to get shaky.
For some unclear reason, you can’t seem to get going right away. So you sit on his bed, in his shirt, staring down at the terrible skirt and the shirt you’d worn with it, thrown over your favourite bag and the same shoes you wear every time you go out because you only own two pairs of shoes. You’re so ridiculous, all teary over Simon - you knew this would happen, you knew a man like that would only use you and then make you cry. You curse him, the alcohol, the terrible skirt… but mostly, yourself. He was just a crush, something stupid and unobtainable, something no girl in her right mind would actually go near. Yet here you were.
Shivering from his weirdly cold house, you slowly pull off his tshirt, the fabric brushing against your bare back as it comes off.
"You can keep the shirt, love," a gruff voice says, "looks better on you than it does in me." A chuckle comes from behind you as you jump at the sudden intrusion, and there he is, in all his… whatever he is. Simon. He’s behind you, on the bed, with an large hand reaching out to play with the end of your hair.
"Oh…" he sighs as one of your little teardrops falls on his wrist, "you alright?"
Little teardrops keep falling, and your best efforts to keep it together are starting to fall through. It feels silly, but all the exhaustion and the rejection is too much for you, despite your best efforts to deny it.
"M’fine…" you mumble, your voice barely louder than a whisper.
"You’re not fine, you’re crying," he chuckles softly, with a hint of empathy behind the gruff tone of his voice. Something about that, about him, hurts your heart as you let out a shaky sob.
Instinctively, his strong arm wraps around your waist and pulls you in to his chest. His hands are surprisingly warm, and they cup your puffy cheeks with tender care, a rough thumb wiping away your pretty tears.
"M’sorry, darling…" he holds your face close to his, and gently leans in for a kiss. You don’t have any energy in you to resist, but you don’t really want to. Si doesn’t feel like a mistake anymore. He feels like comfort.
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hope you enjoyed! that was a long one for me :3
582 notes · View notes
etherealyoungk · 1 month
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— ✦ sugar & spice | jeon wonwoo
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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 ^^
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full fic under the cut
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“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? 
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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.
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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. 
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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. 
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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?
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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. 
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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.
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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. 
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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-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.
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-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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flemingsfreckles · 7 days
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Newlyweds
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Jessie Fleming x Reader
Preview: You and Jessie finally get married, when you get home, your original plans get derailed by your sleepy wife
Warnings: suggestive, mentions of sex (fingering), getting walked in on, no detailed smut, non sexual nudity, showering together,
WC: 1.6k
A/N: this ended up soft and fluffy, I thought about taking it the smut route but I didn’t, sorry I know yall love some smut, I also finished writing this just now and I’m just gonna post it, it’ll edit it if I find errors but it’s very possible they’re in there.
Jessie was practically cackling as she ran down the hallway of your home toward your bedroom with you cradled in her arms.
“If you fall you’re going to get us both hurt Jessie.” You tried to protest when she went to pick you up outside the front door.
“It’ll be fine! Plus it’s a tradition thing.”
“I think the tradition is the groom carries the bride through the door, last time I checked we’re both the bride.”
“Shhh just let me do it.” You had, reluctantly let her pick you up, bridal style, walking you through the door of your house. It only took 3 steps for Jessie to in fact trip over the rug that sat at the entrance.
Thankfully neither of you were hurt, she had managed to catch both herself and you before either of you hit the floor.
“Jessie!”
That’s what set her off laughing. And she couldn’t stop, she was hysterically laughing as she kept moving, using your body to push open the bedroom door. By the time she placed you on the bed you were laughing too. You couldn’t help it, your wife’s laugh was contagious.
“I cannot believe you almost fell.” You shake your head looking up at where she stood next to the bed. Going limp she flops down onto the bed next to you. She’s laying on her stomach, looking at you as you lay on your back, turned to the side to look at your wife.
“Hi wifey.” She whispers to you, the biggest toothy grin across her face.
“Hi wife.” You lean in and kiss her gently.
You both lay, just staring at each other, soaking in the fact that just a few hours ago you had officially gotten married.
The two of you had joked for so long that you practically were married, being together since you were 17 and 18, you had stayed together falling in love with each other more and more as the time went on. Now being 25 and 26 you finally had done it, in front of all your friends and family, you were married.
As you stare at her you notice her eyes starting to flutter closed, then she’d open them with a couple hard blinks, before they’d start to droop again. The sight is adorable, Jessie’s sleepy face gently placed on the bed.
“Let’s go to sleep Jess”
“No, we’re supposed to, ya know, consummate the marriage.” She cracks her eyes enough to look at you and wiggles her eyebrows.
“Babe, I think that tradition is more for people who didn’t sleep together before marriage, we’ve been having sex for like 8 years.”
“But still, we’ve never had sex as wives.”
“What do you call the fingering in the reception bathroom then?” You counter.
You weren’t too proud of it, but something about seeing Jessie in her tuxedo declaring how much she loved you in front of everyone you both cared about, turned you on. You couldn’t help yourself but to whisper some filthy words into Jessie’s ear as both of you sat having dinner. The two of you had snuck off to a bathroom during your reception to have a moment to yourselves, one thing turned into another and before you knew it Jessie had you sitting on the sink, her fingers under your dress and inside of you.
Jessie’s face turned red at the memory.
“That doesn’t count as consummation, no one finished.” She argues with you.
“That’s not my fault, you can thank your sister for that.”
Jessie’s little, but thankfully adult, sister had come looking for both of you. The photographer needed you both for photos with your brand new wedding bands. You thought you had locked the door when you walked in, turns out Jessie had already made an attempt to lock it, meaning you unlocked it. She had looked everywhere, before she opened the bathroom door, seeing her older sister between your thighs, your dress hiked up around your waist and Jessie’s hand between your legs.
“Oh, you two are disgusting.” She clasped her hand over her eyes. “Wash your hands and both of you get out here, the photographer needs you!” Jessie had been mortified, being caught by her sister of all people, she would’ve preferred a teammate. You had laughed it off and dragged your red faced wife out of the bathroom.
The party continued on for a few hours after and while you were still very turned on by your wife, the exhaustion of the day started to sink in not exactly leaving either of you in the mood for what you knew would be multiple rounds of sex.
You watched as Jessie’s eyes continued to flutter shut each time they shut they stay closed for longer and longer until you’re pretty convinced she wasn’t going to open them again.
“Hey,” you gently nudge her shoulder and her eyes crack open. “Let’s go shower and get changed.”
“But I’m so comfortable here.”
“Come on babe, we can have our first shower together as wives.” Saying the word wife and it not being a joke anymore made you smile.
“So cozy in the bed.” She mumbled as her eyes closed again.
“Alright, hang on.” You stand up, moving over to the side of the bed closest to her, you scoop your arms under her shoulders and the other under her knees. She doesn’t protest as you lift her and carry her into the bathroom.
You gently place her on the floor and give her a kiss. “Let’s get you undressed.”
“That’s what I’m talking about.” Jessie smirks at you.
“No, you were just falling asleep on the bed.”
She pouts at you, arms crossed. You gently take her wrists, undoing the cufflinks of her dress shirt and then sliding off her tuxedo coat. Your fingers move to the buttons on her vest, undoing those and helping her remove it. Lastly is her dress shirt, she works from the top down as you work to undo the bottom of her shirt. Your hands meet in the middle and she pulls the shirt off and quickly follows it with her sports bra.
“My beautiful wife.” You lean down placing kisses across her exposed skin. While your mouth stays kissing her chest, your fingers move to her belt, undoing it and sliding it out from her pants. She undoes the button on her slacks and lets them fall to the floor. You hands find the elastic of her boxers and you slowly pull them down. Moving your head from her chest you place kisses along both of her thighs as you remove her underwear.
“You’re turn.” She says, you turn away from her to allow her access to the zipper and ties on your dress.
Jessie’s hands find the top tie and begin undoing the knot. “Have I told you enough how beautiful you look?” She says as her fingers move to the next tie. “Absolutely stunning, you took my breath away.” Her hands then move to the zipper, undoing the rest of the dress. She brings her hands up to where the top of the dress sat. She begins pulling it off of your body, similarly to your actions she brings her lips, placing them on every inch of skin on your back she exposes pulling down your dress.
Jessie extends a hand to you to help you step out and over the dress. “Wow.” She takes the time to look you up and down. You had bought a new set of lingerie for the wedding. It was a lacy white set, one you knew would make your wife crazy. “Where did you get this?” Her fingers work into the straps of the bra.
“Oh you know, just something I had lying around.” You joke with her. Her eyes are locked on your chest. “Quit staring, I’ll put it on again tomorrow for you to fully enjoy.” The comment had Jessie biting her lip, likely thinking of what she’d get to do to you after a good night's sleep.
You move your own hands to your bra, unclasping the back while Jessie’s thumbs hook into your matching panties and pull them down your legs. She comes back up to meet your lips with hers.
You both stay for a second, grinning at each other, both overwhelmed with happiness. You pull away to start the shower, while you wait for it to run warm you pull Jessie into your arms, hugging from behind. You turn the two of you toward the mirror above the vanity.
“Look at my wife.” You point in the mirror at Jessie’s figure in front of you.
“Ehh she’s alright but look at my wife!” She teases you back, pointing at you in the mirror.
“I love you, wife.”
“I love you, wife”
Your arms release her, giving her a quick squeeze with your hand on her shoulders. “Let’s hurry up and shower so we can sleep and then tomorrow we can do all the consummating you want.” You give her a wink and she quickly follows you into the shower, the two of you having a moment of peace and relaxation after the day’s festivities. As you looked at her in the shower, you couldn’t help but think how it was just the two of you, and that was all you would ever need. You and her.
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tojiscumdumpster · 2 months
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⠀ ⠀⠀ "unwanted" MATRIMONY
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⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀byakuya kuchiki.
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✧ summary to preserve the existence of y/n's clan, she is forced to wed the twenty-eighth head of the kuchiki clan—byakuya kuchiki.
✧ content warnings reader is described as a black woman who uses she/her pronouns. clanhead!reader x captain!byakuya. bleach verse au (no manga spoilers) byakuya is a noble, so they'll both be speaking as such. lowkey giving royalty au vibes. told in first POV — reader's. tropes included: arranged marriage, childhood rivals to lovers. usage of c*nt, missionary position, fingering, nipple play, praise and breeding kink, primal play, terms of endearment — blossom, my love, etc. plot with smut, fluff, and a touch of angst if you squint hard enough. lengthy, but the build up is worth it and necessary!
✧ author's note i don't have much to say, but here's to adding more bleach men to my roster. i knew i wanted to write for byakuya because that's my baby daddy, and now i finally have this idea i hope you guys enjoy. support me by reblogging, liking, and commenting your thoughts. i would greatly appreciate it. ♡ MINORS AND BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS - DO NOT INTERACT.
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 I must make my days do, lazing around in my private chambers as I am bound to a marriage I wanted no parts of. Especially not with Byakuya Kuchiki. 
 Lord Byakuya, as he prefers me to call him.
 Because I am the current and possibly the final head of the L /N Clan, I am forced to complete my duties as such. Those duties entailed me following through with my grandparents final wish: get married and keep our family name alive. 
 Which I have no issue with fulfilling. 
 My dreams are filled with having children with a man that loves me. To extend our family and grow old together where our souls will find each other in another life. 
 However, I hadn’t planned my marriage to be an arrangement that I wasn’t aware of because of an agreement our grandfathers had prior to me being born. 
 It’s shocking, honestly. More so, ludicrous for them to think this was okay. But I just couldn’t deny my grandfather. Not when his palm was in mine, lacking its warmth that’s usually there due to his near passing. 
 I remember tears staining my cheeks and a smile gracing his when he made his final request for me. 
 That was two years ago. Now, I am married. Have been for almost a year and every day I dread my decision. 
 How could I possibly wed a man as cold as Byakuya Kuchiki? We barely speak. We sleep in separate chambers. The most we see each other is during dinner because it would be ridiculous to have the servants prepare us food at different times. But even so, the silence and tension always remains deafening.
 And to make matters worse, we have yet to consummate our marriage. 
 This is something I cannot possibly do on my own. He may or may not be attracted to me, and I am convinced to assume the latter because he never utters a look in my direction. 
 It’s shameful how he treats me. The words he spoke to me the night of our ceremony is a constant memory I do my best to forget but cannot. 
 I’m officially married. Not the way I expected to be, but what other choice do I have? Grandfather has died and I made a promise to him to marry and bear children to keep the L /N Clan everlasting. Even if that meant being forced into marriage with my childhood rival. 
 As we sit side-by-side next to each other, bowing and thanking all of our guests for their blessings, I feel the coldness radiating off Byakuya. Of course, one of us has to be graceful and fake smiles while greeting everyone, so I am left to the task. 
 Byakuya? He doesn’t hide how dissatisfied he is with how this night is going. 
 To an extent, I understand. Forcing to wed after the loss of his wife, Hisana, is not ideal. Despite it being centuries since her soul has passed, I’m almost positive the heartbreak is still present. 
 Maybe tonight reminds him of her? 
 “Byakuya—what is the matter? Is everything alright?” I inquired. I turn to face him and await a response. 
 The squareness of his jawline catches my attention and I think how it was carved by the gods themselves. I’ve known Byakuya since we were both children, and seeing the fine man he has grown into today never ceases to amaze me. 
 His profile is… beautiful. I’m mesmerized by the softness of his pale complexion and how it contrasts with the darkness of his raven colored locks. 
 The further I stare at him, the more heat floods underneath my cheeks and my mouth watering at the sight of his beauty. 
 But when he finally speaks, all of the emotions I’ve felt have completely diminished. 
 “Do you feel no shame being forced into a marriage where your partner feels nothing for you?”
 Since then, I’ve kept my distance from him. I remember the pain that pinged my chest when processing the words that left his mouth. I remember rushing to my chambers after the ceremony and crying until it felt like a million shards of glass were piercing them. 
 Yes, I feel ashamed. But I never expected Byakuya to be so direct with me. He’s certainly not the young boy I remember growing up with. Where we would make everything into a competition. 
 Our swordsmanship. Our knowledge. Our abilities. Whatever can be turned into a challenge for us, Byakuya and I competed. 
 That led him to be a captain of the Gotei Thirteen and twenty-eighth head of the Kuchiki Clan. And me, the twenty-third head of my family. I initially wanted to enter the Shin’ō Academy along with Byakuya, but I chose to stay with my family and oversee our medicine and agriculture. 
 However, even when he entered the academy, he always made time to see me because we were friends before any juvenile competition we made. 
 So why can he not see his wrongdoings in our marriage? Could he at least try for the sake of me fulfilling my duties? 
 All that keeps me company are movements of the servants coming in and out of my chambers, along with the river that flows past my view. 
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 As always, dinner is silent. 
 Byakuya has returned to the manor after attending his captain duties, and this is the only time of day where I see him. He is stripped from his formal wear and has been dressed in a simple dark blue yukata that has specks of cherry blossoms scattered across the garment. 
 If I didn’t loathe him so much, I could take my time appreciating how handsome he looks while being in the comfort of his manor. His locks are released from the kenseikan he wears that symbolizes his nobility as the head of the Kuchiki Clan. 
 I occasionally steal glances at him while he eats, and yes, while I do despise being in this forced marriage just as he does, I can’t help but be captivated by him.
 My lady parts wouldn’t allow me to deny the attraction. 
 As I watch my beloved husband, I think of all the sexual acts I would like for him to do to me. Please me in ways I could only imagine he can do. Make love to me and whisper in my ear how breathtaking I am.
 When I look at Byakuya, I think of all the times I’ve spent time with Lady Kyōraku and she tells me how madly in love she is with Captain Kyōraku. How well he treats her, and even with his demands in his new position, they spend much quality time together. 
 She even graced my ears with a few details about a picnic session they recently had where it led to activities that typically aren't done out in public.
 I wonder if my husband will ever be reckless enough to do an act as obscene as that. 
 Not likely. 
 I hate quiet, especially while we eat together. What is the purpose if no words will be spoken amongst each other? No eye contact. No going to bed together after we have finished. Why? 
 Why am I not able to be served dinner in my private chambers? Surely, I can make a request for this going forward. 
 Or… perhaps there is a different way for me to get him to speak. 
 I take a sip of my cremè sake before clearing my throat. “How did your day treat you, my lord?”
 “It was fine,” he responds, flatly. Should I be shocked that he didn’t lift his chin when speaking to me? 
 “There is something I would like to discuss with you.”
 “It can wait. I’m not up for discussion at the moment.” His dismissive tone has annoyance leaching onto my flesh, and I feel like I am on the verge of exploding.
 “Perhaps it cannot. I would like to discuss something with you, my husband.” The authority in my voice grabs his attention and finally, he looks up at me and catches my hardened gaze. 
 He deeply sighs, sitting down his bowl of rice and chopsticks. “What is it?”
 “Maybe we should… begin the process of annulment.”
 His face remains calm. Expressionless, like I always remembered. Does he care enough to show a reaction to me asking for a cancellation of our marriage? 
 This shouldn’t be a difficult decision for him, so why is he taking his time to respond? 
 The longer I wait, the more his lack of response bothers me. It’s not similar to before, where the quiet was filled by the sounds of us eating and the servants coming in to check on us.
 No, it’s the silence where if he does not speak, I will make the decision for him and walk out and permanently leave the manor.
 I think of all the conversations I’ve had with Lady Rukia, his younger sister. And Renji, his lieutenant, about how I should be patient with Byaykuya. That, eventually, he will come around and warm up to me being his wife. 
 But how long?
 How long would it take for us to share a chamber? For us to act like we’re in this agreement together? For him to look at me with the same attraction I have for him?
 How long? 
 It possibly couldn’t be more than a year. 
 This is not the Byakuya Kuchiki I grew up with. No, I wasn’t in his life those five years he was wedded to Hisana due to my own family issues. Maybe I could’ve been there for him and witnessed his change that caused him to be so apathetic. 
 However, this cold man that sits before me… I don’t know who he is.
 “Is there someone else you’re interested in?” He finally speaks, breaking me from my musings. 
 I draw my brows together, confused at his accusation. “Are you… insinuating that I am having an affair?”
 “We’ve been wedded for a year. No acts of intimacy have been done between us. Now suddenly you—”
 “Because of you!” My voice roars, interrupting whatever nonsense that he was about to spew. 
 I refuse to allow him to put the blame on me for the stillness in our marriage. I have tried, time after time, and all I am met with is a man that constantly rejects any type of advances I attempt to provide him.
 So, I continue. 
 “I have given you a year, Byakuya,” I begin, standing over him. He looks up at me and again, his expression remains undetectable. “The day of our ceremony, I have accepted that I will be your lady, and on that night, I was prepared for consummation. But what did you do instead? Humiliate me in front of all our guests with your trivial question!”
 My chest heaves an adrenaline I haven’t felt in a while. Maybe even never, however, leave it to Byakuya to rile me up this way. 
 “If you or anyone thinks I will bear children with a man that looks at me with utter disgust, then you all are sadly mistaken.” Are my last words to him before I rush out the supper room, tears threatening to fall, reminding me of the night we wedded. 
 I feel like such a fool. Disgrace descends upon me and my mind quickly goes to my grandfather and the words he spoke to me on his deathbed. Be strong, child, and fulfill your duties as the current head of the L /N Clan. Bear beautiful children with Young Byakuya and fall effortlessly in love. 
 Oh, grandfather. What am I to do? I can no longer stand to be in this marriage. Not like this. 
 Not with Byakuya. 
 By this time already, I had returned to my chambers and began preparing for bed. I allowed my emotions to get the best of me tonight, so some sleep will do me good. 
 But my suggestion of annulment will continue in the morning. 
 Just as I was moisturizing my body, a knock at the door interrupts my nightly routine and I immediately grow annoyed. 
 I know it isn’t one of the servants checking on me. They know when I don’t want to be bothered with. So that leaves the man that’s responsible for my current state of mind. 
 Ignore him, I say to myself. He’ll think I’m asleep and eventually leave. But no. He barges into my chambers, unannounced, and shuts the door behind him. 
 “Excuse me. I don’t recall giving you permission to en—”
 “Do you think this is easy for me?” He asks, paying no mind to my protests. “Being… married to you.”
 I turned my back to him and continued with the task I was doing before he interrupted. “Save me the boredom and keep it to yourself. No need to further remind—”
 “For a year… I have been… fighting these emotions. These… feelings that have been forming in my chest at the thought of you being my lady.” His admission shocks me… but I remain quiet and stare at him intently through my mirror and allow him to finish. “Do you wish to know how I feel about you, Lady Y/N?”
 My chest slowly heaves up and down and I hold eye contact with him. “How?” I breathed. 
 “You interfere with my routine. Daily… weekly… monthly. Just the thought of you has my mind spiraling.” He moves closer to me with every word he speaks. “A noble. A clan head such as myself, loses all sense of control with just a whiff of your scent. Your jasmine scent that drives me utterly insane. I simply cannot act with honor when I’m around you, so I purposely choose to ignore you.”
 “But… why?” I questioned. 
 “Because you are you, my lady. You may think I don’t keep my eyes on you, but I do. All day… every day. I… watch you sit by the river and simply smile at the sight of nature. From a distance, I hear how kind you are when you speak to others. It’s… enchanting.”
 I slowly release a breath and swallow a thick gulp. “So why is that you don’t speak to me? If I’m, as you stated, enchanting?”
 “Speaking is not what I wish to do with you when we are alone,” he admits. Arousal rushed between my legs at the true meaning of his statement. 
 “It is hard for me to believe that you have an attraction toward me, Lord Byakuya.” As if my words triggered him, he takes long strides to close the distance between us. 
 “Perhaps it’s because you do not look at me the way you look at others. I, too, should be questioning your attraction toward me.”
 I stand to meet with him, but fail miserably due his tall frame towering me. Still, I stand firm with my gaze. “Others such as who?”
 “Shūhei Hisagi,” he deadpans. 
 “You’re being ridicu—”
 “That smile… Your eyes… The look you give him… you have never looked at me that way before. He personally delivers the newsletter to our manor, which he doesn’t have to, but he does for you.”
 “Are you… jealous? Of the small interactions I have with Hisagi a few times throughout the week?”
 It is hard for me to believe that the honorable Byakuya Kuchiki himself is getting flared up over a platonic friendship between Hisagi and I. 
 Sure, there may be a chance he feels more for me than I know, judging by how his cheeks stain a light pink color when he delivers the newsletter. 
 But in no shape or form do I feel the same way, and I would never stoop as low as stepping out in my marriage. Even if my husband treats me like I am a fly on the wall. 
 Though, now, as he stands before me, slightly flustered, nostrils flaring, and a pinched expression—Byakuya is in fact—jealous. 
 I do not know how to feel about this, but I do know it is better than the distance I was getting before. 
 “Does this,” he grabs my hand to slip between us so I can feel his hardened erection, causing me to suck in a breath, “feel like I hold no attraction to you?”
 “Byakuya,” I barely said above a hushed tone. 
 He presses his forward against mine, whispering, “Everyday… I curse myself for these feelings I have for you, to the point where I attempt to avoid you yet fail horribly because I can’t help but watch you from afar.” His hand gently runs up and down my arm, and this bit of contact burns warmth to my flesh. 
 “I feel wrong. Felt, wrong for having such feelings for you, knowing my late Hisana has passed away. I thought my heart went along with her illness, however, you returned to my life unexpectedly.”
 I lick my lips before asking, “Are you saying you… love me, my lord?”
 “I desire you, my lady. Crave you in ways that make me want to act animalistic.” His lips ghost over mine before he falls to my neck and inhales heavily. “I’ve always wanted to know what it is like to have you on my tongue. To hear you beg for me to give you more than what I am giving.”
 “My lord… please.” 
 He shushes me. “Your beauty is beyond words. I have… never seen a rich, deep, golden brown complexion such as yours. You hold yourself with grace, but I know you’re a minx underneath these silk garments.”
 He begins trailing faint kisses along my flesh until meeting with my face once more. I stare at him and take advantage of his ash-colored hues that resemble the sky on a cloudy day. 
 I don’t recall ever being this close in proximity to Byakuya. I’m enthralled by the smoothness of his skin and the color of his lips that reminds me of a thousand cherry blossoms. 
 I want to kiss him. I, too, also want to know what it feels like to have the taste of him on my tongue. Just—
 “May I kiss you, Y/N?” The octave of his voice, slightly lower than usual, breathy with a touch of desperation… it does something to my core. 
 His cheeks flush red and my eyes widen at the sight of him. It feels like this is a fantasy, a moment I thought I would only see in my dreams. He is completely vulnerable, stipped down to where he forgets the formalities and calls my name. He is like this for me because of me. 
 When he is like this–I do not loathe him.
 “You may.”
 Byakuya gently presses his mouth against mine, our lips merely touching as if he is skeptical about what he is doing. He pulls back to look at me and I know desperation is shown on my face. And I know he feels the same.
 How he engulfs my arm with his hand, applying immense pressure to show his desire for me tells me so. 
 My breaths are staggered. I’m thinking, what will he do next? Will he turn around and return to his chambers, regretting this moment ever happened? No. He does not. 
 He caresses my nose with his, breathing me in before meeting with my lips once more. 
 This time, he cuffs my face and deepens our kiss. My hands latched  onto his wrist to hold him in place because I will not allow him to show any skepticism once again. 
 Byakuya takes his time exploring my mouth, but a touch of eagerness is shown when his tongue slips inside of me to get more. Heat hums throughout my body and I feel wetness pooling between my thighs due to the lack of under garments I am not wearing. 
 Is this what it feels like to kiss him? Is it normal for my limbs to grow weak? As if he read my thoughts, he sweeps me off the ground and wraps my legs around his waist. Our heads move side-to-side in unison while we devour each other’s grunts and moans. 
 We head in the direction to my futon and ever so lightly, he lays me down and pulls away from me. 
 “Strip for me.” His order is soft but filled with dominance I can’t be anything but submissive to. 
 I untie my silk robe, slowly until it falls off my shoulders and bares my body. His eyes… where I know Byakuya to be calm and collective during battle, right now a beast rages through him, and I am his prey that he is ready to feast on. 
 My legs spread, revealing my sex that is moist beyond measure. A growl forms in the pit of Byakuya’s stomach and it spreads chills down my spine.
 He palms my breasts while gazing at me and I shudder from his touch. I could believe that this is in fact a dream, but it is not. 
 No longer than a second later, and he pinches my nipple between his fingers. 
 “My lord,” I softly cried, arching my back. 
 “You are art, Y/N.”
 “Address me as your lady,” I demanded. 
 “Apologies, Lady Y/N.” He leans forward to press a quick kiss to my lips. “Is there anything else you would like for me to do?”
 “Strip for me as well,” I instructed, teasingly. 
 His yukata drapes low on his hips and I am met with his slender build. Squared shoulders. A trimmed waist. And an abdomen where I would enjoy rubbing my wetness along that leads to what will bring me pleasure tonight. 
 He stands to completely remove his garments and my mouth floods at the sight of him. His groin, hard and veiny, drips liquid that I’m yearning to taste. 
 Byakuya, as expected, is well trimmed, but leaves just enough hair, perfect to my liking. 
 He’s much larger than I imagined. A size I need time adjusting to, that’s for certain. 
 “Am I up to your liking?” He quips. 
 I hum, tugging my bottom lip between my teeth. “Perhaps.”
 The smallest chuckle, almost faint, escapes his mouth. “Perhaps…” He mocks, catching onto the lie that I uttered. 
  He kneels down before me and sucks my lower lip into his mouth while he widens my legs even further to bring pleasure to my cunt. Those slender fingers, so long and delicate, slip inside of me and I mewl at the slight intrusion. He massages my walls as if he is exploring, attempting to familiarize himself with how I pulsate around his fingers. 
 I break our kiss to moan his name, and my lord takes advantage of the opening to plunge his tongue in the back of my throat and sink deeper into my cunt. 
 I never expected Byakuya to be well equipped with his fingers this way. Those same fingers that are used for battle are currently being used to bring me to my release. 
 Soon, his lips find the valley of my breasts where he leaves bruises on my flesh with teeth. I whimper so pathetically, shocking myself at the sound that leaks from me. 
 He sucks on my nipples greedily, like a starved man that’s hungry for his lover, and this time, I let out a moan of his name. 
 “Byakuya…”
 He looks at me through his lashes and firmly grips my breast. “Remember, my lady. Address me as your lord.”
 “I am sorry, my lord. Please… I can no longer wait. I want to come.”
 “Where is that fire that was present earlier? Begging?” I clench around his fingers at the sound of him taunting me. 
 He flickers his digits quicker inside of me, pulling such obscene noises from my cunt that mingles with my moans and his praises in my chambers. 
 Byakuya, this time, does not kiss me. No, instead, he ogles me and gently holds my chin in place where I am forced to watch him deliver me a release I’ve been waiting a year for. 
 There was a time where I thought he didn’t have an ounce of attraction to me, and now here he is, pleasing me in a way I haven’t been before. 
 “Oh, Lord Byakuya… I… I’m about to come. I feel a release coming,” I purred. 
  “But I have barely touched you, blossom.”
 I latched onto his wrist and rolled my hips to meet his fingers thrusting inside of my cunt. “I—I know. I’ve been waiting for this… for so long.”
 “You’ve fantasized about me bringing you pleasure?” I nod, causing a small smirk to form on his lips. “Tell me more, Lady Y/N. What else do you want? Would you like my shaft inside your tight cunt?”
 “Yes.”
 “Tell you how breathtaking you look while being filled with me?”
 “Oh, yes. Yes, Lord Byakuya.”  
 The faintest, most gentle kiss is placed on the side of my mouth and I feel the tension at the bottom of my stomach unraveling.
 “Are you prepared to bear my children? To have my come flooding your cunt until it drips out?” He ghosts over my ear. “Will you take me?”
 “Bya… kuya…” My orgasm suddenly crept onto me and I’ve created a mess on his hand. 
 I throw my head back and moan to the gods above. I can’t stop shaking and he continues to pump his fingers inside of me. 
 For a year I thought this man loathed me, but tonight I am proved otherwise. 
 Lord Byakuya has described himself as a madman when he is around me, and it is shown when he doesn’t permit me the time to come down from my release before guiding his cock to my entrance. 
 I look between us, anticipating the moment he enters my body and wondering how I will take him. 
 He attempts to push himself inside, but is met with interference and clicks his tongue. Frustrated at the constriction of my cunt because his cock is aching to feel my walls. 
 “I see she is as stubborn as you are,” he taunts. 
 I slyly smirk at him. “Giving up—Ohh…”
 Byakuya does not allow me to finish my retort before giving me one long thrust between my folds to completely stuff me. My brows knits together at the slight intrusion and hint of pain that’s mended by my wetness. 
 I’m… stretched. How could he fit? He’s so… big. Large. I feel his veins pleasurably grazing me when he slowly begins to pull in and out. My cunt molds around his cock like he’s all she knows and I gasp with every movement. 
 My thighs are pushed back so he could see all of me, to see how I’m swallowing him whole. He swears underneath his breath and seeing Byakuya so vulnerable like this has me pulsating. 
 “You… are amazing, my lady. This cunt of yours… It's perfect,” he declares. “For a year you have been keeping this from me?”
 “More, my lord. Give me a bit more.”
 “So desperate for my come, are you?”
 I eagerly nod and grip his forearms to take his pounding. He wastes no time acquiescing to my request, increasing his thrusts to pull such lewd noises from me.
  I’m almost embarrassed by the loudness of my dripping sex. I’m practically making a mess on my futon and I’m mortified that the servants will need to replace my sheets. 
 Again, his mouth and hands are back on my breast, sucking and circling my nipples until they ache. Byakuya alternates between the two to show equal amounts of love and I have never felt so overwhelmed.
 He drives into me with so much passion while marking me with his teeth and alleviating the pain with his tongue. 
 “When I breed you, you will be completely mine, my love. You will be full of me, carrying my child,” he rasps, rutting into me with more force. “How many will you give me?”
 I gasped. “As many as you want, Lord Byakuya. Just please… make me come again. I feel it approaching.”
 “So come for me, blossom.”
 His thrusts are harsher than before. The head of his cock repeatedly presses my sweet spot and I feel the spark of electricity tingling in my lower back. My breasts are still occupied by his mouth, but they move obnoxiously with the rhythm of his poundings. 
 I cry his name, scream to my lord how wonderful this feels and tears prick the corner of my eyes. His free hand that was on my breast moves to thumb my clit to aid with my near release. 
 Byakuya moans soon joins mine to tell me how my cunt squeezes his cock, nearly strangling. And if it were to lose circulation, I would be the cause. But does he not feel how he throbs inside of me? 
 How he hopes to breed me so we will be bound for life? 
 “You asked me earlier… if I love you. Would you still like to know?”
 “Yes, Byakuya. Tell me… do you?”
 “I do,” he simply answers. “Since the day I saw you staring at the river and smiling at the water flowing. How could I not love you?” He brushes his lips across mine and lowers his voice. “How could I not love you after having you like this? Having your beautiful body, every dip and curve bare underneath me?”
 “Lord Byakuya… I’m coming.”
 “And you sound beautiful when my name drips from your lips. Continue calling me your lord until I have filled you with my come.”
 Over and over, he rocks into me at a frenzied pace, causing my orgasm to burst out of me. Tears stain my cheeks and arousal prickles my flesh from my overwhelming release. However, Byakuya does not let up until his thrusts are uncoordinated, indicating his own climax.
 Coming together as lovers for the first time after our ceremony has me seeing stars in my chambers. His load… it’s heavy. Hot and sticky. It mingles with my own come and creates a mess between us.
 Lord Byakuya, too, is a vocal lover. He comes down from his own release and whispers how ethereal I am. How he would never grow tired of pleasing me and filling my cunt. 
 But it’s the delicacy of him brushing my coils away from my face and placing soft kisses on my cheeks that causes my heart to skip a beat. 
 An hour has already passed, and we have been basking in each other’s presence. His embrace is comforting. It provides me with a warmth that was well needed to fill the coldness beside me when I slept alone at night for the past year. 
 “I’m sorry,” he says, breaking the silence. 
 I know the reason for his apology, but ask anyway. “For what, my lord?”
 “For the discomfort I have provided you since our engagement. You didn’t deserve that… Before anything, you were a dear childhood companion of mine and I treated you horribly.”
 His kind words move me. I place my palm against his cheek and look up at him. “We can discuss it some more later on. For now, I would like to enjoy your company. Is that okay?”
 He kisses the top of my head and pulls me further into his arms. “Of course, my lady… Of course.”
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thank you for reading. reblogs, comments, and likes are well appreciated. if you enjoy my work, please be sure to check our my masterlist for more. ෆ
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multifandomgirl08 · 9 months
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Mini Verstappen Series Masterlist
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Paring: Single Dad!Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader
At the end of 2020, Max Verstappen gets the surprise of his life when he finds out that his ex-girlfriend had given birth to a son, his son. A year and a half later Max's longtime girlfriend of 8 months finds out about his son Nico.
This is an ongoing series. I'm always adding to it. The masterlist changes often.
I do take requests for this. If there is anything that you want to see happen in this series just message me in my ask box. All of my normal request rules apply.
Reader Face Claim: Hande Erçel
Total Published Word Count: 46,517 Words
Disclaimer: This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction, so enjoy it as such.
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𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑂𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑟
0.0. Prologue - [December 2020]
Max finds out that he has a son. And it changes his world.
0.1. Be Something You'll Love and Understand [December 2020] Outtakes
He knew that he should have called his mom yesterday but he was still wrapping his head around the idea of being a father.
0.5. The Moment You Smiled At Me - [November 2021]
The evening that started it all for Max and Reader.
1. Mini Verstappen - [July 2022]
You get a small surprise the first time you visit Max’s apartment.
1.5. Girlfriend? - [October 2022] Request
You meet Nico.
1.8. Caught - [June 4, 2023] 18+ Outtakes
Lando swears he knocked before walking into Max's hotel room, maybe he should have yelled before opening the door.
2. Change - [November 26, 2023 + January 2, 2024]
It’s the end of the F1 season. Some things are changing for the Verstappen's.
SMAU #1. The Secrets Out - [December 31, 2023 - January 1, 2024]
It’s the start of a new year. You and Max decide to tell the world about Nico.
3. A Lioness Protects Her Cub - [May 5 - 9, 16, 23, 2024] Request
Reporters are vultures and Max picks out a ring.
4. Day At The Karting Track - [June 15, 2024]
Nico starts karting. It opens a small can of worms.
SMAU #2. Through Max's Eyes - [March 8, July 30 - August 15, 2024]
Max’s Instagram posts about Y/N, and a small life update from the couple.
5. Something Bad, Something Good - [August 17 - 19, 2024] Request
Reader deals with the haters on Twitter, Nico calls Reader Mama. Max claps back at the haters on Instagram like the malewife that he strives to be.
6. Race Day - [September 1, 2024] Request
Nico tags along with Max during a race day in Monza, well as much as he can.
6.1 Wedding Headcanon - [February 2, 2025]
Headcanons from Max and the Reader's wedding. Social Media posts from their honeymoon.
6.7. To Constantly Be Away - [March 10, 2025]
Second race of the season and Max is already having a tough time with the car. Missing his family only makes it worse.
7. From Three to Four - [April 4, 2025]
Reader tells Max that your expecting, he doesn't have the best reaction at first.
8. Stones To Throw At My Creator - [July 2025]
He wasn't his father. He would never raise Nico like that.
SMAU #3. The Verstappens - [January 8, February 2, May 26, December 3, 2025]
Big things happen to Max and the reader in 2025. Moving, getting married, and a little surprise that neither of them were expecting.
8.7 Give Me Eyes To See - [December 7, 2025]
Nikita's first few days at home. Flashbacks to moments from the reader's pregnancy.
8.8 Nikita's First Christmas - [December 24-25, 2025]
Nico's first Christmas with his baby brother.
8.9 Ghost of Bittersweet Memories - [January 25, 2026]
A few of the drivers visit you and Max for the day, and you end up talking with Charles about a woman that he meets at an FIA event. (This is the conversation I referenced in Part 2 of Bittersweet.)
9. Glass Houses - [February 17, 22, 23, 2026]
When Raymond had called you about going and getting lunch, you should have known that something was going on.
9.5. All That I Can Give - [May 10, 2026]
Another Mother's Day and one of Nikita's firsts.
9.7. On Sleepless Roads, The Sleepless Go - [December 2-3, 2026]
It's the early hours of Nikita's first birthday, and you can't help but look back at the day you brought your son into the world.
SMAU #4. A Year in Moments - [February 10, May 28, August 2 & 27, October 21 & 31, 2026]
SMAU #5. - [2027]
SMAU #6. - [2028]
10. The End of An Era - [November 2030]
The days leading up to Max retiring from Formula 1. The Article announcing his retirement. And the last race of his F1 career.
11. Right On Track - [2036]
Checking in with the Verstsppens in 2036.
12. Letters From The Past - [November 17, 2038]
Max and Reader sit down to read the letters that Amelia (Nico's birth mom) wrote.
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𝐸 𝒳 𝒯 𝑅 𝒜 𝒮
Pinterest Board
Playlist
Paring Evolution
Timeline
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Dividers made by @cafekitsune | Banner made by me
Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab
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minhosimthings · 2 months
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All my Loving || 18+
Pairings: husband!Heeseung × wife!fem!reader
Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI 18+, oral (f receieving), overstimulation, p in v sex, unprotected sex (not for you bubs), daddy kink, breeding kink, mention of pregnancy, reader is called 'princess', boob sucking whadup, slow dancing, comfort in the beginning, reader cries.
A/N: my baby @candewlsy asked for husband hee taking care of her. I might have accidentally written a different kind of taking care of IM SORRY BABY I KNOW. But I couldn't help myself alright? Also tagging @jaeyunluvr, another one for our Mr Lee.
Music, dancing, poetry, love, Heeseung.
Ain't all those so similar?
Did I mention Heeseung by the way?
Of course, he was the epitome of love. To you atleast.
And one of your most favourite things to do with him was to bask under the gentle moonlight and sway your body with his in such beautiful synchronisation that even the Milky Way stopped to take a peek from your bedroom window.
Especially when your mind is drooping into the bylanes, your husband's arms cuddling your waist could always find a way to rope you up towards the sky.
"Bad day princess?" Heeseung asked, his hands going to your waist as if it was a magnet for the irons of his fingers, as he started tracing shapes there, like he always knew could cool you down.
His being could always calm you down, making the rough waves striking against the shoreline convert into a gentle lapping at his mere touch.
"I just don't feel loved anymore, Hee." Your voice cracked, trying to keep the sob in your throat imprisoned, "They won't talk to me again."
"Aww princess." You felt the cold metal of Heeseung's ring on his ring finger touch your skin as he pulled you even closer, the mere inches between you earlier, now occupied. He knew you had been having trouble with your parents for quite a while now, but it had never been to the extent that you had shed tears.
"Tell me what you need, love." Heeseung whispered, placing a chaste, feathery kiss to your neck. The gentleness of the kiss made your emotions break out of their bonds, as your sobs broke the silent winter air and simultaneously, Heeseung's heart. He absolutely detested hearing you cry. Turning you over to face him, it broke even more at seeing your tear stained face.
"Shh love, shush now." Heeseung cooed sweet words of love into your ear, making your eyes crinkle open to look at him, "You're alright, you're with me, hush now."
"I-Its just so—and I-" your words wouldn't come out no matter what.
Heeseung silently listened to you crying, all the while whispering honeyed words to you, making you calm down a tad bit. You both stayed in silence for a while, as you played with aglet of his hoodie and he traced shapes along your waist.
"Love?"
"Hmm?" You hummed in response to his gentle voice.
"Why don't we dance for a bit hmm? It always cheers you up."
His gentle request sounded through your ears like an oblique memory. You were infatuated with the idea of dancing with Heeseung.
"What song?"
"Our wedding one?" Heeseung hummed, setting the vintage rustic record player on track, a generous gift from Jay, "Because I genuinely can't help falling in love with you."
Making a giggle erupt out of your mouth, Heeseung mentally patted himself on the back and strode towards you. In his opinion, you still looked as beautiful as you did on your wedding day. God damn what he'd give to experience that moment again, that moment in time when all the clocks stopped for him as soon as you said "I do".
"My lady." Your husband dramatically bowed to you, taking your hand in his and pressing his lips to it, "Care for a dance?"
"Of course, My prince." You answered, taking your arms to place them around his neck, as his went to your waist again, as if they never wanted to leave it.
Wise men say, only fools rush in.
"I must be the biggest fool of them all." Heeseung chuckled, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours, his oceanic eyes sinking into the abyss of your own.
Shall I stay? Would it be a sin?
"Probably the greatest sin I've ever thought to commit." Heeseung said again, spinning you around the room with ease.
You knew what he was doing. This is what he'd always done when you were down. Recite the lines of his vows to you again, to remind you that you truly were loved.
Redamancy was a word that you had always loved. It meant love between two which is mutual and warm like a new born child. And at this time, it felt like you could feel each letter of that word flow through your blood.
"I love you, you know that princess?" Nothing but red ribbons of love flew out of Heeseung's mouth and wrapped around you.
"I do." You giggle, as he spun you around one more time, before burying his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling your intoxicating sense, which could get him drunk as if it was wine, made from the grapes of the Garden of Eden itself.
Gripping your hips tighter, Heeseung made his way to your lips, pressing them against his tightly. Under the moonlight, you seemed to taste like strawberry liquor and a memory he never wanted to fade away.
You moaned against his lips, as the kiss got deeper, more desperate and more carnivorous. He slid a hand up your leg, pushing your shirt up, and gripping your right breast through your bra.
"Hmm, my favourite one?" Heeseung moaned, in between the kiss, as his delicate fingers elicited a moan out of your mouth.
His hands made their way through every button, snap and strap on your body. He left you in nothing but the undergarments you wore. His hands were placed back on your hips as his mouth placed on your neck. Sinful symphonies erupted and you gripped onto his shoulders.
"Get onto the bed, princess." You obeyed his command promptly.
Heeseung’s gaze remained on you as he got undressed. Soon he was bare as you were. His hands were on your breasts, his mouth was on your right nipple.You almost kicked out your legs from the sensation of it all. You yelped and felt a shiver down your spine.
He massages your breasts further, it was almost a little painful. He moved to the other nipple and you moaned loudly into the night air. Your heart raced as you felt yourself drown in the pleasure of it all. You seemed louder as well with the more he touched you.
"Let me give you what you deserve princess, alright?" Heeseung's gaze softened as his eyes met yours. You could do nothing but nod. You were his now, and forever. And you'd take whatever he gave you.
Heeseung thought you were divine. He thought there was no one else quite like you. He moaned into your skin as he nipped at it. He left small bruises around your chest which only made you moan louder. He stimulated you further as he felt you try to fight against him. He knew he was making you feel good.
"Tell me what you want princess, use your words now."
"Y-your—tongue" the feeling of him nipping at your buds has already got you stimulated, your legs try to wrap around him, but his hold on them is unwavering.
Heeseung groans, breaking your kisses as he moves to grab your shins, spreading your legs wide. His eyes sweep over you, pausing at your exposed core.
"So fucking pretty for me.” He says to you in a raw voice. His hands roam your body, a hand tugging at a nipple while the other caresses your curves.
 Your cunt, so slick and desperate for more, throbs with desire as Heeseung puts his hands on you, guiding you to position his head between your thighs, exposing the heat of your core to him.
Heeseung lets out an audible sigh of relief as he wraps his arms around your waist, bringing your cunt straight to his mouth; the sensation is heavenly, the angle of the position has your clit and folds fully exposed, resting in his mouth as he takes worship in you. 
The vibration of Heeseung’s little moans tease you, causing you to settle into him further.
"d-daddy—ah shit" you moaned, as the sensation filled you with fire.
You can’t focus on anything any longer, every worry, every tint of sadness was gone as Heeseung’s motions send shockwaves of pleasure through your body. As his expert tongue focused solely on your swollen nub, you go totally lax.
You feel your rumble of ecstasy rise up within you, and you’re hoping you aren’t gushing too much as you spasm around his tongue. 
Suddenly, Heeseung's tongue flicks up to touch that tiny spot he always knew could get you like a rabid dog. The small sensation is enough to make the ribbon restricting your stomach to break, as you feel higher than an addict, writhing in utter euphoria and creaming in his mouth as he takes you. 
His nose, lips, chin, were soaked in you cum, his pupils blown with lust at your scent, as he looks up to your eyes still scrunched up in pleasure, not noticing the absense of his tongue.
Once his mouth finds yours, his kisses are fervent, passionate, matching the slow pace of his strokes. His tongue is so soft, and he tastes so good with your come on his lips that you’re already primed to give him more. 
“Such a messy girl,” Heeseung sucks a spot again on your collarbone, "My messy girl."
It was a sick part of Heeseung, to have your belly all swollen with his seed. He had never voiced it out, but tonight he couldn’t contain himself. He moved back to being on top of you, he moved your legs to be around his waist. He brushed his cock up against your sweet pussy. You moaned and held onto the pillows under your head.
"daddy—" you whimper against him, "n-need—your cock"
"Say please?"
"Plea—ah fuck!" You all as but scream as his tip just brushes against your pussy, "Please."
He groaned as he continued to fondle you as you tighten your legs around his waist.
Heeseung kisses your pout and quickly grabs his cock. He pumps himself a few more times before lining up at your entrance. When Heeseung sheaths himself fully in your heat, the wind is knocked out of you. A collective groan of ecstasy escaped from both of your mouths.
Heeseung groaned through grit teeth as he pushed his cock into you. You tensed and he groaned louder, he held onto the bed under you and moved all the way inside of you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him tightly as he started to thrust. You moaned into his skin as he moved against you.
Your body felt numb but in a pleasurable way. You could only lie there and accept all the pleasure that he was giving you. He kissed your soft face, he could feel your racing heartbeat under your skin. His face went back to your neck where he left more bruises on the flesh. He felt heat through his body as the pleasure coursed through his veins. It was arousing, he couldn’t deny what he was feeling.
He gazed down at you as his chest rapidly rose and fell. He pushed the hair out of his eyes before he grabbed you by the waist and rubbed his cock up against you. He could feel heat settle in his body as his cock throbbed for you. He wanted you, he needed you more than he needed air. And he was more than willing to let you know that.
   “Shit.” He sighed, “You feel so good.” His hands were back on your chest as he started to thrust in and out of you. His aw tensed for a moment as he felt the pleasure pool in his gut. Sweat cooled on his back as he massaged your breasts.
"Want daddy to fuck a baby into you hmm?" Heeseung asks, his lustful breathing breaking the air, "You'd like that princess?"
When you didn't answer, the overstimulation almost killing you, Heeseung snapped his hips suddenly, making you cry out loud.
"Heeseung! Ah-god—"
The heat consumed your body as you rutted against him. Your nipples remain hard as the two of you move against one another in a situation of passion. The high in your body only heightened the pleasure between you too.
"Such—a pretty girl-ah fuck fuck!" Heeseung moaned loudly, as he felt you clench tightly around his cock, the walls were basically suffocating him, "takin' me so well, fuck—"
You moaned into his words, your arms dropped to the bedroll and kept a tight hold of it as you arched.
Your head spun as he continued to move. You could hear his heavy breathing but your head felt full of nothing. Everything had a heightened yet fuzzy feeling to it as the pleasure made its way through your body. You laid there while he fucked you, unable to do much but accept the continued pleasure from Heeseung.
He felt on the tip of an orgasm. With another hard thrust, he shoved his cock as far as it would go and then he finished inside of you. At that moment you finished as well.
“Look at me. I want you to watch you come on my cock." Heeseung all but demanded and you had no choice but to obey, "fuck—you're so beautiful, all filled up with me."
Silky ribbons of beautiful pleasure flew out as your eyes gazed into Heeseung's, which had nothing but love flowing in them.
Heeseung kept pumping his seed into you rhythmically, as you lay almost limp on the bed. Staying inside you for a minute or so, Heeseung pulled his length out carefully, making you form a 'o' shape with your mouth, as your walls were left almost sensationless as your husband's cock left it.
"Fucking hell." Heeseung muttered under his breath, "Are you alright love?"
"You just fucked the brains out of me and you're asking me if I'm alright." You rolled your eyes at him, and chuckled, "I'm sorry are we married, Mr Lee?"
"We sure are Mrs Lee." Heeseung pressed his nose to yours, "How about a shower hmm?"
"You're washing my hair."
"Whatever you want, my love."
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drvscarlett · 7 days
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The Tortured Drivers' Department
— combining another one of my favorites. I'll be taking notes and writing fics about which TTPD song do I associate with the drivers ( + I will be including the retired ones). This is the main list and I'll be linking them when I finished writing them. Let me know if you wanna be tagged
Also give TTPD a listen. Its so beautiful and a masterpiece
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Fortnight
— i love you, its ruining my life (Lewis Hamilton x Mercedes!reader)
The Tortured Poets Department 
— At dinner you take my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one people put wedding rings on. And that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding (Pierre Gasly x ex!reader)
My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys 
— 'Cause he took me out of my box, stole my tortured heart left all these broken parts (Lando Norris x reader)
Down Bad
— Fuck it if I can't have him (Charles Leclerc x kpop idol!reader)
So Long, London
— You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues? (George Russell x secret girlfriend! reader)
But Daddy I Love Him
— "I'm having his baby" No, I'm not, but you should see your faces (Alex Albon x Horner!reader)
Fresh Out the Slammer
— Now, pretty baby, I'm runnin' back home to you (Esteban Ocon x childhood bestfriend!reader)
Florida!!! (feat. Florence + the Machine) 
—I need to forget, so take me to Florida (Logan Sargeant x heiress!reader)
Guilty as Sin?
—What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind? (Oscar Piastri x bestfriend!reader)
Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?
— I was tame, I was gentle till the circus life made me mean (Nico Rosberg x Lewis Hamilton)
I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)
— they shake their heads, saying, "God help her" when I tell 'em he's my man (Daniel Ricciardo x longtime girlfriend!reader)
loml
— Oh, what a valiant roar. What a bland goodbye. The coward claimed he was a lion (Max Verstappen x childhood sweetheart!reader)
I Can Do It With a Broken Heart 
— Lights, camera, bitch, smile (Zhou Guanyu x model!reader)
The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived
— And I'll forget you, but I'll never forgive (Yuki Tsunoda x Actress!reader)
The Alchemy
—'Cause the sign on your heart said it's still reserved for me (Kimi Räikkönen x assistant!reader)
Clara Bow
— This town is fake, but you're the real thing (Sebastian Vettel x Ferrari heir!reader)
The Black Dog
— I am someone who, until recent events you shared your secrets with (Mick Schumacher x driver!reader
imgonnagetyouback
— I'm an Aston Martin that you steered straight into the ditch (Fernando Alonso x wife!reader)
The Albatross
— She's the albatross, she is here to destroy you (Jenson Button x revenger!reader)
Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus
—So if I sell my apartment and you have some kids with an internet starlet. Will that make your memory fade from this scarlet maroon? (Carlos Sainz x Vasseur!reader)
How Did It End?
— The deflation of our dreaming leaving me bereft and reeling (Logan Sargeant x Oscar Piastri)
So High School
—You knew what you wanted, and, boy, you got her (Charles Leclerc x reader ft Max Verstappen x childhood friend!reader)
I Hate It Here
—I hate it here so I will go to secret gardens in my mind (Kimi Räikkönen x interviewer! reader)
thanK you aIMee
— And then she wrote headlines in the local paper laughing at each baby step I'd take (Mark Webber x reader)
I Look in People’s Windows
—What if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time (Sebastian Vettel x reader)
The Prophecy
—Don't want money, just someone who wants my company (Pierre Gasly x politician's daughter!reader)
Cassandra
—So they killed Cassandra first cause she feared the worst (Lewis Hamilton x wife!reader)
Peter
— Forgive me, Peter, please know that I tried to hold onto the days when you were mine (Lando Norris x reader)
The Bolter
— "Oh, we must stop meeting like this" (Max Verstappen x hollywood starlet!reader)
Robin
— You have no room in your dreams for regrets (Oscar Piastri x girlfriend!reader)
The Manuscript
—One last souvenir from my trip to your shores. Now and then I re-read the manuscript. But the story isn't mine anymore (Carlos Sainz x McLaren employee!reader)
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iron and charcoal
rating: explicit 18+ pairing: pero tovar x f!reader word count: 6.9K summary: Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. But there would be no tomorrow. No future, no light of dawn – not without –  Her. He’d never heal because tomorrow would never come.  OR Pero falls hard for a princess and doesn’t know what to do with himself on your wedding night. warnings: angst, brief classism/xenophobia two very stubborn people, pero experiences one Human Emotion and cannot fully process it, arranged marriage, yearning, smut LIKE WOW, soft!pero that i broke my own heart with a/n: Thank you so much to @perotovar for this request: "congrats on your milestone, my love! so happy for you <33 i'm sending a little astrology 💫 + pero & #6 on the fluffy list OR #1 on the smutty list (whichever is speaking to you), because i wanna see your take on him 👀” – of course I chose the slutty one, just for you 😉 I’m actually pretty proud of this one - please consider reblogging if you like it too!
*the image in the header is for aesthetic purposes only and does not reflect the appearance of the reader*
🤍Masterlist 🤍Pero Tovar Masterlist
💜come see what else we've done to celebrate 1K followers
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Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. 
Sometimes before battle, the clatter inside Pero’s head goes silent. It listens. It waits. 
Other times, it roars. Memories of family, of dead amigos, of mujeres he fucked – they all buck and scratch for a chance to blaze across his mind like a dust storm kicked up by an unbroken mustang. 
He doesn’t know which one he prefers or which one will win out. They both have their uses, necessary states of mind to survive whatever is barreling towards him – an ax, a monster out of legend, some other drunken mercenary he intentionally pissed off. It’s an unconscious decision, yet one that has served him well so far. He wouldn’t be alive today if some deep, primal part of him knew what he needed to live through another battle. 
And yet, his own trunk knocking against his hips as he climbed the sickly ostentatious stone steps to the top of the parapet, the handles starting to pinch his fingers, the barest – nearly invisible – tremor in his knees, he cannot fathom, for the life of him, why that singular phrase from his abuela played in his head like water swirling around and around a cenote. 
Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. 
Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. 
His inner voice, taking on a myriad of forms, of sounds and voices, never quite standing still, the one companion he could always rely on. 
Maybe it was warning him. Dust yourself off, boy, you know exactly how this was going to end. 
Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. 
But there would be no tomorrow. No future, no light of dawn – not without –
Her.
He’d never heal because tomorrow would never come.
He feels sweat escape from the nape of curls at his neck, his cheeks warm and chest hot. Two more flights, he can manage two more flights. 
His abuela also liked to tell him something else: if hell doesn’t get him, his pride certainly will. 
It’s certainly what got him into this ridiculous farce in the first place. Because he can’t alchemize whatever is in his gut into vocalized syllables, he instead has to climb a truly incalculable amount of stairs, while carrying a ragged, torn trunk that weighs as much as his armor. 
Because he can’t form the right words, any words, about what he carries lodged beneath his breastbone for her. What draws him up and up and up and up because it’s lighter than hope, makes him lighter than air, and yet it clogs him up, chokes him out all the same. His pride, his vanity, cuts through it, through her – enough to keep him tongueless and dry but not enough to offer this lightness in his chest to her, for her. He can’t take the light out of him or else he fears what he will truly become.
So, he walks, he goes around and around on unforgiving stone steps until finally there is a door. He thinks about waiting, to catch his breath, but he knows he will just as easily turn around and go back the way he came, trunk still heavy and knocking against his hips, and that pride will be the death of him. So he keeps going, opens the handle, and makes abrupt eye contact with the two guards outside her door. They seem uninterested and unamused in his sweaty, stilted breathing, but by his less-than-royal attire, they easily clock him as one of their own; a man who fights to make his way in the world. The one on the left nods jerkily at him. 
What they see him as, what he will always be, is nearly the reason he kicks that fucking trunk all the way back down. Instead, he nods back, shoulders rounded, eyes down. 
“The princesa - the princess - is requesting the last of her things, to be b-brought up from the stables –,” he clears his throat, “drop this off for her and –,”
“Can’t let you in. King’s orders.” The one on the right sees him as something else – a foreigner first and foremost, their similar stations in life irrelevant. His bright blue eyes rove over Pero’s dark skin, dark hair, jagged scar, distaste and disgust smearing his already ugly features. But he had been dealing with men like these all his life.
“Bueno, you can explain to the King himself why his daughter’s belongings were lost and disregarded. I hear she’s very fond of the Italian prints at the bottom of this . . .”
The guards glance at each other, calculating way above their paygrade. Pero jostles the trunk as if to show he is not above throwing it out the window. 
“Fine.” The second one snaps. “Drop it inside and come back immediately.”
He drops his head, a good little foreign boy. “Gracias, señor.” 
The heavy wooden door opens beneath the iron lock and the instant he is through, he bolts it behind him. Waits to see if the guards notice. They don’t. Perfectamente – all the time in the world. 
All in the time in the world – for what? 
To fail? Again?
He stows the trunk in front of the door, extra time, a few seconds maybe – as if she wouldn’t just tell him to get out the instant she laid eyes on him. Only time will tell. 
Out of the atrium, another door, this one set deep into the wall. A last line of defense. He knocks, once, then twice, then waits. El orgullo chokes him again but fuck it, he’s come this far. He knocks again, knocks something in his chest free and, with it, spill the words:
“Princesa? It’s me. I –,” it throttles him, “princesa, can you open the door?” 
Silence. His heart sits, buried in that trunk. Then –
“It’s unlocked, Pero.” 
His heart in his throat, he opens the door to presumably what will be your marriage bed. And yet, by the state of things, you could have been moving out of it. Trunks and bags stack high against the far wall – those fucking trunks he made such a scene over because the unnecessary weight would slow them all down remain untouched, arranged as they had been when they had been first brought in. He didn’t quite know what to make of that, his thumb absently pressing into the callus of his other hand as he glanced around. It is a beautiful room – tall windows, etched in scarlet drapes, to match the scarlet curtains around the bed. With gold thread and impossibly detailed paintings of the countryside, it is fit for a princess, a some-day queen. This is where someone with royal blood deserved to be, not in the back of a hot carriage for weeks on end, surrounded by dirty, loud, rough men. 
And yet, with your hair down, expansive gown from the ball tonight replaced with a simple cotton dress, you could not have been more out of place. Pero’s heart lurches briefly, moisture seeping from his mouth, as he realizes this is the same dress he bought you when the two of you had been accidentally separated by the caravan and your previous dress had been ruined in the mud. He had no idea you still kept it, much less wore it ever again. 
But if anyone asked him, you look more beautiful in this than any silk or velvet. 
Instead of unpacking, settling into your new home and eventual role as wife, you sit hunched over at the intricately carved mahogany desk, eagle feather quill scratching against parchment. You finish with a flourish and look over your shoulder at him, your eyes annoyingly unreadable. 
“Yes?”
A stupid brute some may call him, but he wasn’t entirely without awareness. Observation of your customs and what you considered inappropriate only encouraged him: if you really didn’t want him here, you would never have let him see you in this state.
But it’s hard to remember that under your icy stare. 
“Y-your things, Princesa. The last from the caravan.”
Your eyes slide over him, to the trunk in the shadows of the atrium. He can tell from a single glance that you know as well as he that trunk is not yours, that no one told him to come here with it, and yet he did it all the same. Something flashes over your eyes but it’s gone by the time you meet his gaze again. 
“Thank you. I am, as always, indebted to you.” 
He hates your words, but warmth spreads in his gut at the way you say it. That’s how it’s always been between you and him – saying one thing but meaning another. He’d never appreciated a sharp mind like yours until he realized you wield it as he wields a sharp sword. 
There are many things he’d never even dreamed of before he met you.
“Then, this means you’re leaving, I suppose.” You draw your sword against him. The metal flashes in your eyes as you stand, one hand against the curved tip of your chair. A bronze halo rims your outline, the fire behind you burning bright and hot. He knows if he touched your shoulder, your neck, your skin would be wonderfully warm. 
He wets his lips. “Si. Our contract with your father is done.” 
You drop his gaze, your lips tightening for a minute, your fingers running through the carvings of wood on the chair. “Even with William in his state? Would it not be better for him to stay and recover? The journey home is –,” you pause, as though someone had thrown a hand over your mouth, “– the journey back east is long.” 
All the longer without you.
“William, he is not an idle man. Two days of bedrest is often all he can take.” 
You grin, in spite of this thing circling you both. “Unless he finds the nun attending to him beautiful.
“He finds them all beautiful.” 
Your smile expands wide across your bright face when you find him smiling at you too. 
This – if this is to be his last memory of you (his heart wrenches at the thought) – this is the you he wants imprinted on his soul: smiling and glowing by firelight. 
But as quickly as it came, that grin that warms him down to his bones, fades. In an instant, your eyes grow soft, your mouth twisted, jaw tight.
“Where will you go?” you ask, in the quietest voice you’d ever addressed him with. 
It pains him, physically aches within him, to hear the distress in your voice. He hasn’t even thought about the next contract, the next royal cabrón who intends to yank him all across God’s green earth to perform a task he can’t be fucked to take on himself. How can he possibly answer you? Nowhere, without you. To rot in a dark hole in the ground? Off a cliff? What answer would provide you or him any sort of satisfaction?
“Wherever the coin goes,” he says and the words scrape his tongue like bile. That ache in his chest spiraling rapidly, deep into his gut – like a poisoned limb he cannot amputate – he does the same thing he always does when he’s hurt: he makes others hurt until they leave him alone. “You do not have to worry, princesa, your new husband will keep you in such comfort you will never wonder where the coin comes from.”
He must be a truly sick man, for the knife-sharp glare you throw at him only knots arousal around the base of his spine. It tugs on something attached directly to his groin which, in turn, yanks the next words out of his mouth.
“He looked especially happy with you in his arms on the dance floor tonight.”
The icy shards in your eyes go brittle and crack. His heart races; he’s overplayed his hand. 
“You watched me dance?”
“All guardsmen were required to –,”
You shake your head, eyes bright and searing through him. “No. It was only the King’s Knights there in attendance.” 
Your hand trailing off the edge of the chair, you take a step forward and he feels his weight shift back onto his heels. But he remains firm. 
Sana, sana.
“Pero, why did you come here tonight?”
“To return the last of your things, princesa. What else is there?”
You flinch, as if he had raised his voice to you. What else is there indeed?
“Not even to . . .  say goodbye? Sixteen weeks on the road is an awfully long time to be around someone, only for them to . . . leave so soon.”
He locks his knees to keep them from shaking. “Do you wish for me to tell you goodbye, princesa?” 
There’s something painfully sad about the way you smile at him. “I wish for whatever would make you happiest.” 
Anger roars within him, hungry and hot, like a burn from a white flame. Why can’t you just admit it? Why do you avoid it time and time again? He knows he hasn’t misread anything you’ve sent his way, so why? Why are you so vested in torturing him this way? 
“Coin makes me happy and, now that I have it, there’s nothing to keep me here.”
There, that hurts you too, just as he meant it.
“Then leave.” They could make ice fortresses out of the strength of your bone-cold stare. “If you have nothing else to say, then take your goddamn trunk and get out of my sight.” 
The flame scorches him, ripping him apart and in his anger, making him cruel.
He bows to you.
“I imagine you will be very happy with your new husband, ranita.”
The term slips from his lips before he can stop it, but his throat and cheeks blister so badly, he physically can’t open his mouth to correct his mistake. Instead, he turns and strides towards the door.
He thinks he hears a gasp from behind him, a sharp sound like breaking glass – small, tinkling, tragic. It spears him through his chest, pierces his heart. 
He gets to the door and pauses.
If you have nothing else to say . . .
Of course he has something to say – words in English and Spanish and broken dialects gathered like poisonous lichen all churning in the boiling cauldron of his mind, but nothing will suffice – nothing reflects or compares to the grief he is already feeling, the despair, the anguish that has settled into all the fleshy joints in his body. Not his pride, but this, saying goodbye to you, this is what actually will kill him.
Every word imaginable crawls up his throat and rages in his mouth, presses up against his teeth, begging for something, anything to be let out, to be free, to tell you that he cannot fucking live without you–
Nothing comes through, but one single word.
“Don’t.” 
The fire crackles in the silence, a wicked god pleased at the display of carnage.
“What did you say?”
A dull thud echoes from where he drops his forehead against the wood of the door, all anger flooding out of his system. Do you have any idea the power you hold over him? One request, one tremor in your voice and his knees all but buckle at your altar. 
Fuck it. 
He always thought he’d go out in a blaze of bloody glory, but he’d never expected to be so exposed, so flayed like this.
“Don’t,” he repeats, his throat as dry as sand. “Do not . . . marry him. Please.” 
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The vision of your great warrior slumped against the door frame, his neck bent, shoulders curled up to his ears has your already pounding heart leaping forward into a gallop. He is defeated, laid low. You watch his guts all but pool out on your hearth. 
He looks about as hopeless and anguished as you feel. 
Your soldier, your man of iron and charcoal, goes blurry in your eyes.
“And what would you have me do, Pero?” Your plea is damp, malleable at the edges. You press your hand flat against your chest, near your throat, as if you could pull the grief lodged there with your fingers. “I have been engaged to this man before I was even born. How can I stop this?” 
“Fight.” The word snarls against his bare teeth. He turns, his eyes liquid ink, and suddenly he has you by the shoulders. His thumbs nervously skitter around the curve of your shoulder, gaze just as unsteady and unfocused as it wavers between your hands, your earlobe, your neck. "Where is my brave girl who fights for what she wants, hm? Fight – for me, please.”
Fight, he asks – but in spite of him or because of him?
You lay your hands on the silver shine of his breastplate, watch as they rise and fall with his steady flow of breath. How many nights had you woken up against that shine, in the crook of his arm for warmth, or protection? You didn’t cherish it at the time because you never knew when it would be your last. 
“Why won’t you fight, princesa?” His voice is low, strained, the groan of a wagon wheel before it breaks. You meet his gaze and the exposed look on his face, softening every line on his mouth and around his eyes, nearly sends you into hysterics. You swallow the tears, swallow the hook in your throat as your fingers curl around the clasps of his cape. 
"Because if I don't fight then I can't lose.” His fingers slip from your shoulders, to your elbows, to your waist. You inhale and the scents of warm leather, oil, and ash flood your mouth. The tip of your nose is inches from the scruff of beard against his cheek, the ruddy brown of his sun-drenched skin. He has curled you into him and this, you do not fight either. His massive palms map your back, against your skin, but without any urgency or control. “If I can’t lose, that means I don’t lose you. You'll just be . . . gone."
That last word is a lie. It hangs in the air like a sweltering humid rain and you both know you’re lying. He has you wrapped up in his arms, you didn’t stop him even for a second, and you are all too aware that it would take some great, insidious alchemy to ever truly tear him out of you. 
You stare at his silver collar, defiant against the waves you had managed to shackle down until this very moment: a wave of hopeless crashes into you, a wave of heartbreak, a wave of helpless that fills your eyes to the point of spilling with that very same salt water.
He touches your cheek delicately, fingers rough with callouses, and the floodgates break open with a sob. 
“Preciosa,” he rumbles softly against your hairline, “hush. You break my heart with your tears.” 
“Do not mock me, Tovar. Not now.” you sniff, trying to turn your face but his wide hands catch you around the cheeks.
“You are beyond mocking. I’d show you my heavy heart but I do not wish that weight on anyone.” The snag of his rough thumbs against your cheek draws your watery gaze to him. His mouth is a flat line, barred against whatever climbs his throat, but his eyes move like mercury across your nose, your eyelashes, the arch of your cheek. Your fingers wrap themselves around his wrists, a grounding agent against the waves that threaten to pull you under. 
“Pero, I –,”
“I have fought you, tooth and nail, for days without end. Every favor, every breath, you have forced them from me. I fight my own mind when I sleep at night. Sueños, always of the same woman.” He smears away the tears with his thumbs, gently, sweetly, before pressing his lips to your wet flesh by his knuckle. He inhales deeply, eyes closed, mouth hovering stationary above the skin of your cheek. “You fight me every step of the way . . . and I am so tired of fighting.” 
For all your struggling, for all your tearing and clawing and snarling against the blooming in your chest, nothing is as easy as it is to turn your head and press your lips to his. 
The brush of his bristled mustache against your upper lip. His warm, rough palms holding you steady. His lips soft and hot. You are overwhelmed by the scent of him.
There is nothing like, and nothing will ever be like, finally kissing Pero Tovar. 
All it takes is the movement of his hands from your cheeks to your lower back, the light trace of his tongue against your lips, and the yearning you’d been smothering for weeks now roars to life. His hands squeeze your hips and you can suddenly barely breathe. 
“Pero–,” the noise in the shape of his name that escapes you is near a whine, begging. He nips at your lips, hand firmly at the cup of your jaw, mouth now rough and insistent, and your fingers claw up his neck, wrapping themselves in his dark curls. You tug, nails scratching his scalp, and he groans into your mouth as if you’d just kneed him in the gut.
A thread-bare gasp of your name from his lips splits you from him, then his hand on your hip and the back of your neck pushing you backwards gives you enough air to breathe – to think.
"Your husband will know you're not a virgin,” Pero warns, breathing hard and fast, his eyes like black flints, “if we go on." 
You curl your fingers around his neck, dragging your mouth near his jaw, the soft skin at the edge of his ear.
"Then he will also know my heart is not his either.” You ask everything of him with this. His armor blocks his warm body from you – you want to sink inside his hard shell. “If you’ll have it.”
He is not himself, half-human with an inhuman want, with the snarl that leaves him. 
“Don’t make such promises, dulzura –,” A threat, a dog forced to expose its underbelly, fear radiating like the pain from a broken bone. Your fingers dig into the buckles of his cape, steadying you against a sudden terrible awareness that bloomed, purple-bruised. 
“Unless you don’t want –,” 
The desk rattles when your hips break against it, the force of his kiss enough to topple over your inkwell, spill rolls of parchment to the floor. The wood groans under your weight when he gathers the thick swell of your thighs in his hands, heaves you onto the flat surface, and spreads your knees around his waist. He is as hard as the iron on his chest. 
“Can you feel how much I want you?”
A frantic sigh of relief, a groan shared between two pairs of lips, seeking skin and warmth and other hungry places. 
He drags you onto his chest, your skirt bunched up around your hips, the rings of his armor digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, his mouth covering yours in wet pulls, and he stands up right, as though you weighed less than his sword. 
A stumble, and he spreads you out on the velvet covers of your marriage bed, his hands imprinting on your hips, your knees, the supple meat of your calves. The touch of him on your bare skin feels like the licks of flames, the smoke of arousal blurring your awareness and dragging your eyelids half-closed. On his heels at the edge of the bed, the flint shards of his eyes drift over the bones of your ankles, the bend of your knee, your heaving chest, hair in snarls around your neck and caught behind your back, and finally to your cunt, hidden by the folds of your dress. 
Velvet hums as you slide your ankles to the curve of your ass, widening your legs, parting your knees. His lips part open, dark want etching every line of his face. You feel the wet linen of your dress cling to your achy cunt. He swallows, unbuckling his cape one latch at a time, his eyes nowhere else. The metal clatters as it falls to the floor.
Piece by piece, the chinks in his armor fall away. Piece by piece, he is revealed to you. Your hands rise up, up your thighs to your knees, your thumbs rubbing soft circles. He watches, never tears his gaze away from your sticky hole, his nimble fingers working away the buckles and knots with practiced precision. You can see it in his eyes – memories of bedrolls by firelight, of such a deep painful, yearning ache, separated only by thin tarp, they are a physical weight beside you in this marriage bed. 
You see them because they’re there for you too. You see them because you've been here a dozen times, on your back, legs spread wide, your hands circling but never dipping, waiting. Wanting. For him. 
His bare chest is warm, the wings of his ribs expanding around short, half-drawn breaths, as he crawls up into your pliant mouth. The kisses are slow, like before, with a crackle of heat just beyond them, his hips slipping into the cradle of your thighs, the wet warmth of you separated by the thin linen of your dress. He sucks the tendon below your ear, a whine slipping out of your mouth, fingers spreading over the harsh planes of his back, and his cock bobs against your thigh. 
Pero is bare and warm and entirely yours. All man beneath the sweltering armor. 
“Amorcita,” he drips into your ear, kisses smeared against your collarbone, your mouth, your earlobe, “amorcita, amorcita . . . ranita, let me take you.” 
He starts to use teeth, a harder nip behind his kisses, when he dips down to your chest. A wide palm with stocky fingers grasps at your breast and it’s a startling sensation for you both. 
“Soft,” he moans before licking up under the supple curve of your breast, mouthing at what his tongue missed. He slips your erect nipple into his mouth and twists it between his teeth. “Sweet,” he murmurs with your nipple firmly between his lips. 
This is unlike anything you’ve felt before. You deliriously thank the gods that he hadn’t touched you like this on the road; you would have kept him, your own wild animal, in bed without rest for days on end.
Pero plucks just as aggressively at your other breast, the spit-wet nipple that preoccupied his mouth verging on purple and aching. He cups you from the outside this time, squeezing and massaging, ringing your nipple with his tongue until your back bows and you let out a whine that has his eyes flickering up to you, the scent of wounded prey filling his nostrils. 
That whine of pleasure elongates into a whimper: “please.”
“Tranquila, ranita.” His touch is softer around your bruised tits, but he keeps one hand bagging the weight of your breast while the other slips beneath your skirt.
The pads of his fingers brush your creamy cunt and with a yelp, you grab him by the wrist, your eyes open with a familiar emotion he draws out of you: rage.
“Pero Tovar, if you value your life you will take me under the covers and put your —,”
He chuckles, his cheek against yours, nose rimming the velvet hairs on the ridges of your ear. The vibrations liquify the tension in your bones, loosening your grip. Your eyes flutter, slick obviously running down his fingers. “Ranita, I don’t think you know how you want to end that sentence..”
His words roll like honey over the heat of your skin. It makes your skin tremble. Your grip tightens on his wrist and you roll your hips, your swollen clit finally relieved by the pressure of his palm. 
“Oh, oh, Pero—,” 
With a grunt, he shuffled closer, elbow by your shoulder and he cups your entire wet cunt in his hand, pushing the heel of his palm flatter against you. You cry out, a sparkling kind of pleasure radiating out from where his hand rests. You buck your hips faster, complete release flickering through your outstretched hand. 
“Can you come like this?” You nod, eyes squeezed shut as you barrel towards escape, and you feel him shudder next to you. You are intimately aware that he’s rubbing his cock on the crease of your hip bone but that only drags you faster towards the light. “Then come, ranita, come and I’ll fuck you.” 
The wet, curling heat growing between your legs descends, then in a bright snap, explodes across your body. 
“Fuck!” You tear open your eyes to find them damp, Pero’s massive hand cupping your cheek towards him, his stallion eyes dark as his fingers drag on the soaked material of your dress, your hips slowing. 
“Amorcita, breathe.” The words are torn from his chest, all cock-suredness gone from his frantic gaze. You gulp in air, the weight of his body over yours grounding and smothering you all at once. He pulls his hand away from you, rides it up your thigh to your waist, looking for something to hold onto. He strokes his thumb once against your overheated skin and you’re wriggling up out of your dress. 
“Help,” you hiss and his fingers nearly tear the fabric off you.
With a few undone buttons, you shiver out of your dress, the slick-drenched spots catching on your warm skin. He flings it behind him, near the fireplace. 
He takes you barely beneath the thick covers before you welcome him back to the heat of your open legs. 
But instead of reeling back and plunging his aching cock into you, he takes the time to kiss you. To praise you in all the ways he fears his mouth will end up short. He kisses you, grateful, reverent – wonderful to be swallowed by but also a distraction.
When he lifts your knees by his waist, your hips automatically tilt towards him and for the first time, you feel his red, sore cock between your tacky lips. The dual sensation nearly drags you over the rack of delectably delicious pleasure, as does his worn, broken groan in your ear. 
“More, please, don’t stop.” You cry against the bristles of his beard, his hand dropping between your sweat-slick bodies, finding yours already there to guide him. The press of him spreads you open, filling you one sinking notch at a time. The sensation of your pink, dripping walls moving to take more of him in has you arching up into his chest, nails dragging into his back. His dry lips stifle the moans escaping from your mouth. 
Pero takes both of your hands in his, dragging them above your head, his fingers locking your palms together as his hips roll forward. “Cálmate, amorcita, cálmate,” he murmurs between distracted presses of his mouth against your chin, your cheek, his breathing heavy and stunted. You writhe, pinned open by his hips and his hands, his cock filling you all too slowly and not fast enough. 
With the last few inches, you take him completely, your cunt throbbing, heart pounding, intoxicated by the sensation of being so maddeningly full. Pero drapes over you, his head tucked into your neck, forearms straining with the tension of gripping your hands tightly. 
“Santa madre . . .” He is not a warrior right now. He is but a man, cunt-drunk and heaving. 
His name is pushed out of the bottom of your lungs with the first swing of his hips. You cling to him, knees at his ribs, unwilling to let even an inch of space between your bodies. But this becomes increasingly difficult as his thrusts gain speed. His flushed lips stain a sticky line against your jaw, down to your throat, and he releases your hands, the oak of the bed creaking beneath the force of him drilling down into you, he props himself up on his palms, his shoulders bent and curled over you, biceps straining, hairline damp, eyelids fluttering. The scar on his cheek is flushed pink.
“Look, amorcita, look how well you take me.”
His words tear you from your nebulous high, the grit of them forcing your head down to the obscene squelch beneath the sheets. The thatch of rough curls over his groin is drenched in slick, his thick cock soaked to the point of shine as it drives into you again and again. The heavy draft of breath the sight steals from him, the tap of his cock against a place so deep you didn’t know your body possessed, draws the spooling bliss as tight as a wire. 
Your trembling thighs squeeze him tighter, that hot pressure rendering you speechless, except for the most pathetic whine. Please, Pero, please, you think, you mutter, you whisper, your body rocking damp against the sheets. 
With a sudden snarl, he takes the chunk of your hair at the base of your head flat in his fists and tugs. A shoot of bright pain sparks bliss down to your tight and bruised nipples, and you cry out again. 
“Stop fighting, puedo sentir cuanto la quieres. Let me have it.” It is the following word that splits you open like lighting carving apart a tree. “Please.”
The wail that you release is the rush of gooseflesh over your skin alchemized into audible sound. Heat radiates through you, sucking the air from your lungs, your vision going blurry, then black as you clamp your eyes shut against the rush, the final release, that curls you into his arms. His warm, flushed arms, shaking with strain. A final wobbly thrust or two and his elbows are buckling, sweat-drenched chest pressing into your own.
Distantly, you are aware of the warm, slick drip down your thighs, his cock pulsing the last drops into your cum-flecked cunt, and the dangers this sort of intimacy poses. You can’t gather enough breath, enough sense to settle the spinning room, to worry or even care. 
Your his, and he is yours. That is all that will ever matter. 
The crackle of wood burning is the only other sound than your ragged breaths, the silent roll of sweat from sticky hot skins into the bedsheets. The stone walls of the castle’s room entomb you together for a brief stretch of infinity.
Pero moves and you think he’s going to back out of you, but instead, he merely adjusts, his head fully on your chest, thick fingers clutching your bruised waist, the shift of his cock pushing more of his release out of your oversensitive cunt. But you’ll take overstimulation over his absence every time. You run your fingers through his damp curls and he hums. 
“I’m sorry,” he huffs into your humid skin. “I’m sorry I let my pride keep us apart for so long.” 
You grin lazily to the ceiling, your breath settling as affection takes its place in your chest. 
“You were not the only one blinded by vanity.” 
“But I’m not blind. Not anymore.” He lifts his head, eyes as dark as your spilled inkwell. “I am never letting you go.” 
You smile at him, fingers soft against the back of his neck. “I don’t plan on wandering away.” 
His oil-black gaze drops to your lips and he leans forward to take your mouth against his. Gentle, but with the promise of more. 
“Mi ranita,” he purrs to break the kiss. 
“You call me that all the time, Pero. What does it mean?”
At that, a nearly shy expression crosses his face. He shakes his head, shifting onto his elbows to lift off you. “I can’t tell you. It will ruin your good mood.” 
You gasp, offended, and you grab him by the ear and twist. He chuckles through a grimace. “You will tell me what that means, Pero Tovar, if you value your appendages.” 
“Órale, princesa, retract your claws and I will tell you.” 
You release your grip and settle against your pillow. Grinning bashfully, he kisses your neck briefly.
“Remember that I love you after I tell you this.” 
Your heart nearly stops, the absence of a steady beat nearly drawing tears to your eyes but you hold firm. You breathe deeply against the fluttering in your stomach and pin him with your glare. Of course, this is how he would profess his love to you – when he’s trying to get out of trouble. 
“Tell me, Tovar!”
He chuckles again and preemptively picks up your hands. He kisses the inside of your palms, settling himself between your thighs. 
“It means little frog.” Your mouth falls open in a gasp and you struggle to yank your hands back from him, hissing like a tea kettle, but he uses his weight to press down on you. He nips at your nose. “I call you that because when you’re upset with me, much like you are now, you puff up like a bullfrog, your cheeks like this–,”
He rounds his cheeks full of air, crossing his eyes, and you simply cannot take the slight anymore. You push roughly against his gut, the breath trapped in his mouth escaping in a hot puff, and you twist him onto his back. He lets you, of course, his bold, full laughter rendering him defenseless. His body shakes beneath you, his beautiful eyes squeezed shut, his mouth open wide as he laughs and laughs and laughs. You take him by the wrists and push his limp hands over his head, pinning him as he had you. You pinch his chin with your teeth, your messy cunt over his stomach, as his laughter subsides. 
“Have you had your fun yet?” 
“Barely,” he chuckles, turning his big nose against your cheek and inhaling. He hums.
“Is that all I am to you? A joke?”
Pero opens his eyes, sober as death rattle. He takes you in, not in a hungry, all-consuming way, but in a look that speaks of awe and rapture.
“You are everything to me.”
You sigh, releasing his hands and curling into his chest. He kisses the top of your head, your eyes on the roaring fire. His thumbs rub your shoulder blades, trace the lines of your spine.
“You’re so very lucky I love you too.” 
His wandering against the expanse of your back stills, just for a moment, before his fingers slide into your hair, around the nape of your neck, holding you to him with the intention of keeping you there forever.
“I know, ranita, I know.” 
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He watches you sleep as the sky lightens beyond the tall windows on the opposite side of the bedroom. The dying fire traces your edges in gold, settling heat in the curve of your lips. 
His heart lurches with the wanting of you.
There’s more terrible things to come, he knows that. The plan the two of you concocted in the early morning hours will be dangerous, deadly even. But dying together instead of living apart would be much more tolerable, you told him earlier that night, your hand on his chest. 
He would kill if you asked. He would kill, even if you didn’t, to keep you safe and by his side. You’ve proven yourself capable of living a life away from this spectacular opulence, but it pains him to know he will never be able to give you anything nearly as lovely as the velvet dresses in the closet, the gold jewelry in your trunks. 
Instead, all he has to offer is himself. His strength, his hands, his heart. It’s his own fear that tells him that’s not enough, because you remind him again and again that’s more than you ever wanted. 
He traces the curve of your cheek with the hovering pad of his finger, brushing your hair away from your face. How he ended up so lucky with your love, he’ll never know, but he will spend the rest of his days proving that he’s earned it. 
You stir in your sleep, sensing him above you, and he hates to steal even a few minutes of blissful sleep from you, knowing the endless nights that are coming. When he steals you away from all that you’ve ever known. 
The sleepy grumble in your throat resembles his name as he curls around you, but your eyes remain gently closed. He pulls you against him, the air that leaves your mouth and sits between your chest and his something he covets with his whole heart. 
I love you and I’m disgustingly lucky and I love you. 
He is a man made of dust, serving men made of silver. He is a man of dust, loving a woman made of gold.
El orgullo? No, Abuela, his ranita will get him first, last, and every time.
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Translations:
Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. - This rhyme is typically said to children when they have just hurt themselves. The parent (or grandparent) usually rubs the part that is sore and sings this little tune. Literally translates to: "heal, heal, little frog’s tail. If you don’t heal today, you will heal tomorrow."
el orgullo - pride
dulzura - sweetness, romantic connotation
amorcita - little love, romantic connotation
Tranquila - quiet, as in "be quiet" or "relax"
Cálmate - take it easy, or take it slow
puedo sentir cuanto la quieres - I can feel how much you want it/love it
Órale - okay, or an exclamation expressing approval or encouragement.
ranita - little frog, but you knew that already ;)
the rest are cognates (or familiar words) which you can probably guess the meaning of, but feel free to message me if you don't know!
372 notes · View notes
myouicieloz · 6 months
Text
Heads will roll
Kim Minjeong x aespa 5thmember!reader
Synopsis: Your girlfriend promised you it was ok for you to match with your best friend, Yuna, for the upcoming Halloween party. However, with how she’s behaving all night, you simply had to drag her to and empty room and punish her.
Warnings: smut. sub!minjeong x dom!reader
Word count: 4.4k lol sorry
Notes: HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!! I’ve tried my best but the verbs might still be all wrong… I hope u enjoy, tho!! ^^ i rlly like halloween kisses mwuah
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You spent the whole evening apart from your best friends and bandmates, shooting your solo pictures for the group’s latest comeback. Since you were the last one to do so, you asked them to get back to the dorm and get ready for Ryujin’s party without you. You’d see each other soon enough, anyway, so it wasn’t that big of a deal.
They sent you countless pictures of them getting ready, and your heart ached to be making funny group memories with them, instead of taking a thousand pictures in a cold studio. It was for work, though, so you’d just have to deal with it.
After what it seemed like ages, your photoshoot was finally over, and you quickly made your way to the dorm to shower and get ready. It sucked to do your makeup by yourself, since Giselle always did it for you, and to not curl Ningning’s hair just as she liked it, but it was either that or you’d all be terribly late for the party, and no one would have that.
Ryujin’s Halloween party was one of the most expected events of the year, so, naturally, no one would want to be late. The girl knew how to host a party— it always had sickening decor, lots of creative and delicious drinks and, most important, secrecy. None of what you did ever got leaked, to ensure the guests always had a good time.
Which you always, always did.
“Woah!” You whistled as you entered Ryujin’s living room, getting the attention of your bandmates. They smiled at you, waving and calling you over.
The four girls were impeccable, each one looking just as gorgeous as ever: Giselle was dressed as a sexy jaguar, wearing a tight jumper with little feline ears; Ningning opted to go as a corpse bride, although her bloodied, ripped wedding dress barely reached her knees; Karina, as a pirate, hat carefully placed in her hands; and at last, your sweet girlfriend, looking lavish as Alice in Wonderland.
You smiled at the sight of her beautiful face, promptly reaching out to hug her, but Winter was having none of it. She didn’t push you, naturally, but her face was all flustered, and she looked livid, frowning as she checked you out.
“Is that really why you didn’t match with me?” Winter asked, offended. She was judging your Lara Croft costume with hard eyes, even though they lingered on the leather belt you wore for a tad too long. There were fake guns attached to them, too, and your hair was braided into two elaborate pieces all by yourself, your skillfulness making the hairstyle neat and composed, not a single strand out of place.
“We’ve had this conversation before.” you reminded her, ever so patient— being used were used to her defensiveness. Besides, you knew you looked good; a little harsh look from your girlfriend wasn’t going to smash out your confidence, “I had already promised Yuna I’d match with her. She arranged our costumes and everything months ago, remember?”
Winter rolled her eyes, murmuring something too low for you to hear, but visibly still annoyed, regardless of your explanation.
You did warn your girlfriend that you’d be matching with your best friend for Halloween, just like you always did ever since you could remember. However, Winter hoped you’d notice her subtle signs and realize she wanted you to match with her, as a couple, instead. After all, it was your first Halloween together, and Winter wanted it to be special.
“You look beautiful, by the way.”
“Yeah, whatever.” She brushed past you, scoffing. You could tell she was very much pissed by the way she stomped through your friends, mixing herself a drink with too much alcohol in it, as she completely turned her back to you.
It was quite unusual for her to drink, but you’ve gotten on her nerves enough to make Winter want to relieve some stress. It bothered her to have you choosing Yuna-subaenim over herself, your girlfriend, no matter how hard she tried to shake the venomous feeling off.
Naturally, Winter knows it’s silly to feel this insecure and jealous over a stupid costume, specially since you and Yuna have been friends since your rookie days— and you’ve only been dating for a couple of months.
Nonetheless, Winter can’t help but to be sulky besides Karina, downing her cup in a few, long gulps. She doesn’t even dislike Yuna, even though she wasn’t exactly friends with the girl, either. Winter found her kind and lovable enough, with her long hair and composed, yet bubbly remarks.
It simply unsettled your girlfriend, to see you matching with Yuna when she was so excited about your first Halloween together. You were Winter’s first partner, and the thought of wearing matching outfits had her all month wondering what to pick. There were just so many cool options, and she was so excited… Which was why having you mention Yuna had already bought you identical costumes— just like she did every year, as long as Winter could remember, — was like a bucket of cold water being thrown in her head.
Of course, had your girlfriend told you wearing couple outfits to the party was that important to her, you would’ve simply brushed Yuna off, claiming you’d comply with your girlfriend’s wishes this year. However, she said nothing, so you naturally didn’t think much of it, brushing it off.
However, Winter felt a bitter taste in her mouth as she stared at you and Yuna, looking pretty much like twins if it weren’t for you towering over the girl, hair much longer and darker. It was as though she were fighting her first battle, a silent, passive one with your best friend, and she had just lost.
Winter really wasn’t going to hide her pout for the rest of the night. She’d allow herself that, at least.
-
Your girlfriend behaves like nothing but a fucking brat the whole afternoon.
She makes sure to be extra touchy with people— much unlike her nature, laughing hard and smiling at whatever it is that Jaehyun was saying. The boy was as boring as they came, and she’d stopped listening to his ramble minutes ago. Now, her eyes were trained on you, with every action calculated to bring you to the edge. From the way her slick fingers traced his skin, to her leaning to listen better, since the music is so loud, isn’t it?
You let her be, allowing Winter to celebrate her little tantrums alongside her members. Despite her obvious confrontation with you, she genuinely seems to be enjoying herself: laughing, drinking and joking with the girls and other close friends on the dance floor. So you let her have her little victory, observing from afar as you enjoy your night just the same; Even though your eyes narrow once you feel her subtly— almost unnoticeably, ducking from your touch, when you join the girls after hanging out with your other friends for a while.
In fact, Winter’s cold shoulder gave you plenty of time to think about the ways you’d punish her for her foolish behavior. You licked your lips at the thought of having little Alice in Wonderland all spread open just for you, crying as you deny her orgasms over and over until her pretty, abused cunt is all red and sore, drenching and clenching over the slightest brush of your fingers. It’d be such a heavenly sight: the girl on all fours, screaming and pleading for you to touch her anywhere, to do anything to her or else she’d explode.
However, you remain composed, your face giving none of your impurities away as you twist the ice in your whiskey and patiently listen to whatever funny story is being told by Chaeryeoung in the corner you all stand. You could feel the avalanche of thoughts and ideas going over and over through your mind, aching to make your girlfriend wither and destroy her petite body, as you made sure to let her know who possessed her in every way.
Meanwhile, Winter was walking through a dangerous path, she knew it as much. The feeling of your eyes poking wholes on her back was dense enough to send electric shocks through her entire body, and she was well aware of you watching her every move. She smiled to herself, glad to have your full attention despite feeling like such a loser, earlier. The thought of being punished for all of her bratty actions, too, aroused her perhaps a bit too much to keep her from being good. So she closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and smiled again, humming to herself as she knew her night was barely getting started.
“Hey, if you’d like we could, ahn, keep our conversation somewhere quieter…” Winter heard Jaehyun say, lips dangerously close to her ear. She was about to brush him off when he was abruptly shoved backwards, and soon enough she felt a strong grip on her waist.
She couldn’t contain a smile, hearing your harsh voice echoing from above her tiny frame.
“I suggest you keep your _hands_ to yourself, subaenim, if you want them intact.” You growled, turning your girlfriend to you as you pushed her upstairs, opening doors until you found an empty room. You shoved Winter on the bed without delicacy, smiling slightly to see her bounce a little on the mattress, in response to your touch. She was so petite—even now, staring at you behind her lashes.
“Fucking whore.” You cursed, taking your time unbuckling your numerous belts as she stared at you, licking her lips at the sight of your hands putting on work. She needed them on herself, immediately. “Throwing yourself at that fucker like a cheap slut. I guess that is just what you are, right?” You said, gripping her face. “A cheap fucking slut.”
Winter’s pupils were as blown out as yours, and her heart was beating so loud she was sure it echoed loudly through the bedroom. It was so hot for her to have you like this: mad out of your mind, handling her like a doll. It was a deep contrast from your caring, worried nature, one that she loved to experience from time to time. And the best part was that she got to have this feral side of you all to herself. You were hers, and hers alone.
No stupid fucking costume would change that.
She nodded as best as she could, since your touch was strong in order to keep her still.
“Say it.”
“I’m just a cheap slut.” Her reply came immediately, as Winter’s eyes remained locked on your face.
You kissed her deeply in response, exploring all the possible places of her mouth. Your hands went down her neck, blocking her airways just enough to make your girlfriend sigh, lightheaded.
“Perfect, baby.” You praised, sucking on her pulse point. “And who owns you?”
Winter’s hands found their way to yours, even though her touch wasn’t meant to make you stop.
She simply had to feel you, to have your skin on hers. It was a necessity to taste you and to have you taste her, too. It was taking you too long to touch her, already: she was feeling like her whole body was going to explode.
“You, unnie.” She breathed.
You stopped your work on her neck, now sucking at her earlobe as you whispered. “Just that? I’m starting to think you don’t want me to do anything to you at all; you just wanted to fuck that stupid ass guy to piss me off.”
She whined as you distanced yourself, opening her legs so you could place yourself between them. She looked like a painting, with her shoulder-length hair all disheveled and flustered face, trying to gather her breath and her thoughts. You allowed her to do so, squeezing and brushing your hands up and down her thighs while waiting for her next move.
As if Winter could ever concentrate with you touching her like that.
Pulling you by your pants—she couldn’t help but to look for your belt, biting her cheek to keep a smile from adorning her face as she found it in your hands, already—she pleaded. “Please, mommy,” She opened her legs even more, with her hands on your neck to kiss you again, “I’ve been so bad tonight… please, please punish me.”
You smiled, thinking about all the ways you’d ruin her through the night. She was so beautiful, so eager to surrender herself to you completely. It warmed your heart with both desire and lust, to know you had her to yourself.
“You’ll be well punished, Minjeongie. Don’t worry,” You promised, leaving wet kisses against her shoulders. “I’ll ruin you, so you’re reminded to not even look at anyone else, my love. You’re fucking mine.”
As you shared another wet, lustful kiss, Minjeong couldn’t help but to feel like the luckiest girl in the world.
-
You interlock her wrists with one of your belts, wiggling it to make sure it wasn’t too tight on the girl’s skin; just enough to make it a slightly ache. “Do you know your words?”
“Yes.”
“And what will you do if you want me to stop?”
“I’ll use them.” She assured you, nodding.
“Very well, then,” You took her in, looking so pretty messed up like that. You’d have to leave her like that more. “On your fours.”
Winter got half-up, cocking her head to the sides as she sent you a confused look. You were both still all dressed up. Had you forgotten about that detail, perhaps?
“Dress stays on,” You mumbled, groping her body through the fabric. “You look too pretty in that outfit. It nearly made me fuck you in the middle of the room, for everyone to see, when I first saw you.”
She giggled, delighted to have your praises. Her face was met with a pout soon after, though, as she sighed, defiantly. “If only you’d matched with me, instead of that bi—”
Winter lets out a loud grasp once you turn her around, adjusting her body roughly on your thighs.
“Shut the fuck up.” You told her. “Toys don’t talk. Specially ones that behaved so poorly the whole night.” Pushing her tiny dress up, you gave her ass a good squeeze. “Now, count. 10 for each cheek, since I’m feeling patient, for now.”
Winter couldn’t suppress the shiver that went through her body as she heard your words. She bit her lips, not wanting to let you see how much your tone aroused her; so drenched already, and you’ve only made out for a few minutes.
“O-one,” She took a deep breath as you went on, kissing her back and her ass until you’d finished, your hands’ impressions well painted on her milky skin. “T-two…”
You were surprised she didn’t lose count, not even once, even though her face was already glistening with a few tears, and she was shaking her head vigorously. “T-ten!”
You let out a proud smirk once you got her spankings over with, helping her up. “You did good, love.” You assured your girlfriend, kissing her gently to make sure she wasn’t overwhelmed. You let Winter take some time to breathe, nodding as she got her body closer to yours as much as she could, since her hands were still locked up.
Winter was always needy and touchy. You laugh at her exasperate touches, kissing her as you guide her body to lay on the bed completely. You tear down panties with hunger, soon taking out her white stockings, too, until you manage to push up the skirt of her dress and leave her cunt bare, inviting you over.
“You look so pretty, love. All dolled up and ready for me. So fucking hot tonight, baby.”
All she could do was nod, lost in pleasure as you kiss along her thighs. She instantly opens them more, hoping you’d mark them —just as you both liked it. You took your time pinching, sucking and bruising her perfect skin, enjoying the sound of the pornographic moans that left her mouth. You were drenched yourself, too, at the sight of your pretty girlfriend’s face as she lets out incoherent cries and whines.
Your fingers brush her cunt, never more than a light tease over her heated body as you add, “Wearing this little dress like the whore you are. Do you even have any idea of how delicious you look right now? Of how many people ogled you all night, desperate to touch you?” You giggled to yourself at the sound of her frustrated huffs, tracing your fingers to her slit before giving her pussy a long lick, “They can’t, though. You’re all mine. Mine to mark, mine to toy with. My doll.”
She couldn’t even answer as you dive in, sucking her pretty cunt vigorously as Winter wriggles and tries her best to get a hold of your hair, which makes you nibble your teeth though her sex, provoking her.
“M-more, more, mommy. Please! Oh shit—“ She was a mess, feeling even more as if she were going to erupt. Your hands kept touching her everywhere, with your nails leaving long, red lines from her forearms to the ends of her thighs.
As you kept on with an even faster rhythm, you could feel her inner walls clenching and her eyes starting to close in pleasure. So, naturally, you subsided your movements, allowing Winter’s cunt no more than a few kitten licks. She opened her eyes immediately, looking at you so adorably confused and frustrated.
“Do you really think you deserve to cum, my sweet?” Your fingertips entered her hole just enough so you could gather some of her wetness and taste it yourself, giving her sex a light slap. It made her joint, and you smiled at how sensitive she was, all bruised and marked. “With how much of an ungrateful slut you’ve been all night, hiding from my touches and presenting yourself to others…”
Still, she shook her head vigorously, “I’ll make it up to you, mommy, I promise.” Winter pleaded, with her best, sweetest voice. “Let me cum, please! Even though I don’t deserve it.”
Her obvious attempts to get herself off made you scoff, although you positioned yourself between Winter’s small body once again. She was your little doll, after all, so pretty dressed up as Alice in Wonderland.
And you have all the time in the world to edge her until she’s a withering mess, at the dorms, anyway.
Positioning your index and middle finger on her entrance, you brushed her hair off her face. “Work for it then, doll. If you want to get off so bad, do it.”
Winter’s eyes widened at your suggestion, and she let her shoulders down at the thought of having to do all the work. She’d never done such a thing, specially since you were always so eager to be the cause of her moans as she fell into pieces. As she opened her mouth to whine again, though, a simple look from you shut her out: the girl immediatly knew it was either that or nothing. Logically, your girlfriend bit her lip, pressing herself against your fingers as she felt the feeling of them in her tight cunt. She let out a loud moan, fucking herself on your fingers until the knot on her stomach soon presented itself back.
“Stop staring at me like that.” She said, looking the other way to not acknowledge you observing her, since she couldn’t push you herself. You curled your fingers inside of her, giggling at her little screams and surprised huffs.
“But you look so pretty, specially like this. Only for me.” You were making your best to follow through your words, even though Winter’s sounds and movements were making you crazy. You simply needed to grab her pretty little waist and take her until she was really screaming, crying loudly for you to stop.
However, you had to be patient, or else your girlfriend wouldn’t be taught her lesson. One she so desperately needed, so she would communicate to you better.
“Only for you, always.” She promised, her breathing erratic as she twitched under you. “Mommy, I’m gonna—please, please, let me cum.”
“Do it, love. You can cum, now.” You smiled, kissing Winter’s thighs as you bit them gently.
That did it for her; with a loud cry, she came all over your hand, trying to get your fingers off her pussy once she got too sensitive. You retrieved your fingers, sucking them clean as Winter gestured for you to set her hands free, which you promptly did. She immediately went to your lap, wrapping her fingers around your neck as she marked your skin, just as you had done to her, earlier.
“Thank you mommy.” She murmured, still light-headed and needy from her orgasm. You loved how dependent she got afterward, always requiring many cuddles and kisses after you fucked. You loved your girlfriend deeply, and she’d always be the number one in your life. “I wore the dress just for you, you know? I saw your look when we passed by the costume shop.”
You hummed, throwing your head slightly to allow Winter to suck on your neck as she liked to, “You’re such a little evil being, Minjeong.” She giggled, trailing kisses through your face until she captured your mouth, pulling you in for a long, slow kiss.
“I’m only yours.” She moved her bangs out of her face. “Are you only mine, too?”
“Of course, baby.” You frowned, squeezing her tiny waist to assure her of so. “I belong to you, just as you belong to me.”
“Good.” She whispered, feeling relieved to have that envious feeling finally off her shoulders. She didn’t master the courage to look at you, as she added. “I just wish we had matched, tonight.”
You held her even closer, kissing both of her cheeks repeatedly. “We will, next year. Ok?” You winked, managing to get a smile from her at the subtle promise. “You have to tell me when something’s bothering you, baby. I thought you were cool with me matching with Yuna and all.”
“I thought I was cool with it, too.” She shrugged, kicking her feet. “But I guess I wasn’t.”
You kissed her once again, hoping to have her know how much you loved her.
“It’s all good now, though. Come on, the party’s still going. Let’s head back?”
Winter’s head cocked to the side at your words, and soon her hands were toying with the hem of your crop top. She smirked, trying to look as innocent as she could at the thought of keeping you all to herself.
“Not yet… still want to get more of what’s mine, then.” You smiled back at the auburn haired girl, placing your arms up to allow her to get rid of the piece. “Besides, you’ve made me do all the work just now… I think I deserve a compensation.”
You scoffed, but pushed Winter’s body back on the bed just the same. You were her girlfriend, after all. You’d always spoil her rotten and indulge to her wishes.
“Bratty ass.”
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ne-videl · 2 months
Text
𝓾𝓷𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓪𝓵 𝓶𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓰𝓮
yandere Poseidon x fem reader
hide your tears and smile, little goddess.
yandere, unhealthy relationships, objectification, angst, power imbalance, depressed reader, forced marriage, poor english, sfw. first half – Poseidon's pov, then yours.
word count: ~1.5k
a/n: hii everyone!! how have you been? I have no ideas. like, absolutely. art block I guess?? anyway, have some of my old stuff. this is my least favorite yandere trope, but I love angst, so sometimes I go for it. by the way, when I first started it, I wanted to write a super idolized fluff but... well, we have what we have, or "why you don't want to marry Poseidon". hehe big booba man hehehe
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the endless ocean is noisy outside the huge windows.
today, the sea sings a memorial service for you.
two people at the altar – the god and his bride.
Poseidon wants to smile rapaciously at her shaking figure.
she's afraid, poor thing. who wouldn't be afraid? he is, after all, the god of all gods, known for his cruel and merciless temper, the lord of the seas.
and she will become his lady very soon.
[name].
her name spreads like ambrosia across his lips.
even her name is so ordinary, so human, as, indeed, everything else about his charming wife.
she was a priestess in Poseidon's temple: in his own, so there's nothing wrong in taking what was already his. he noticed her by accident.
[name] was sitting hunched over, touching some bright flowers with her bruised palms. he liked to visit this temple sometimes: it was quiet and peaceful in the atrium, noisy humans did not flicker before his eyes.
little human girl did not even flinch when he silently stood next to her, only continued to look with big and very sad eyes at the colorful flower bed.
at their second meeting, she greeted him.
at the third time, she dared to start an idle conversation.
the fourth, and she talked about life in the temple.
at the fifth time she asked why he was coming here.
Poseidon always stood silently next to her, looming over her like a suffocating shadow. he was amused by her chattering, and, unexpectedly for himself, found her presence soothing, pleasant, unlike other humans, the mere sight of whom made the eye of the deity twitch.
life was bad for her in the temple.
[name] told him, she was sent to this place when she was still a girl, and she spent her whole life by the cold blue sea.
new head of the temple did not like her, saying that there was nothing for women to do here. that she should get married, but who needs her?
Poseidon saw the marks of beatings on her girlish body.
so he took her with him. she served in temple made in his name, spent her short life at his domain – it is quite natural that she will become his wife.
of course, it is unheard of that god marries a human – but does he really need someone's approval?
ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______
Hades advised to propose to her. it's the way humans do it.
Poseidon did not ask for her consent, for him it was just a formality: of course she would say yes, he was sure.
he will dress her in the finest silks, she will own the most beautiful jewels on all Olympus, the sea itself would be at her feet – how could a human girl want more?
smile spreads across his face as he sees her eyes widen, as she begins to shake – no doubt, from embarrassment – and his palm rests protectively on top of her head.
of course she agreed, how could it be any other way?
his fiancee is incredibly sweet. but weak and naive at the same time, like the rest of the human race. but he will protect her, give her a better life.
she must be very grateful to him.
ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______
Poseidon remembers their wedding well, how [name] looked in amazement at the beauty of Atlantis, at the greatness of his seas.
in white robes, with downcast eyes, she swore an oath binding her life forever to a cruel deity, accompanied by singing of nymphs and the sound of the ocean.
she was now a goddess herself, whether she wanted to or not. of course, she wanted to, it couldn't be any other way. she loves him.
and, as the new lady of the seas, she will spend her now eternal life by his side. Poseidon will make sure of this no matter what.
she fearfully puts her small palm into his, while he, her husband, leads her through the corridors of the palace. [name] is silent. probably still embarrassed.
from now on, she will be the most beautiful ornament of his possessions, the shining pearl of Atlantis – his precious property, belonging only to him. and the sparkling ring on her tiny finger was proof.
ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______
"wife." – [name] immediately turns around, smiles, comes closer.
his hand rests on her waist, his grip firm, possessively strong. she doesn't notice.
or pretends not to notice.
over time, [name] got used to him, cheered up, blossomed. it couldn't have been any other way, right?
songs, dances appeared, bright flowers and ringing laughter in the cold and empty corridors.
she became friends with his brothers, was able to conquer the proud Aphrodite, whom she now called her friend with visible joy.
Poseidon is pleased to consider himself a good husband.
he loves to see his wife smiling, laughing.
even if it's not just with him. it's better to be patient for a while, he thinks, than to lose her cheerful chatting for the whole evening.
though, she's cute even when she's angry.
Poseidon was gentle with her. allowed her much, much more than others, even spoiled her. [name] was his wife, after all, so he had to make sure she looked good enough.
he's a good husband.
[name] never contradicted him, never raised her adorable voice at him, never was not too selfish.
although deep down, he would like her to become more spoiled. so that, like him, she would not tolerate anyone's presence, except, of course, her husband.
to think of it, why would she need anyone besides him? she can be quite happy within the walls of the palace.
Poseidon dismissed these thoughts from himself – for some reason, his wife liked to be in society, even if without him.
well, he's willing to put up with her quirks as long as she knows who should come first for her.
ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______
the outfit given by Aphrodite was very becoming to his spouse. Poseidon loved to see her beautiful.
in luxurious clothes, undoubtedly worthy of the wife of a sea god, or in the warm candlelight in the night darkness of their shared bedroom, happy or shedding tears, [name] was equally beautiful.
the precious treasure of Atlantis.
he was never moved by her tears – even if she was crying, of course she loved him anyway. [name] is happy. so why make a big deal about it?
none of the pathetic mortals could take care of her like he did. none of them would love her the way he does.
"you are my wife. you're not going anywhere."
ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______
you didn't tell anyone about your sorrow: didn't share it with anyone – neither with Aphrodite, nor with the nymphs and mermaids, your husband's brothers remained in the dark too.
a little human girl shedding tears by the huge waves.
an unhappy goddess, forever imprisoned in an cold palace, surrounded by hypocritical deities, in the iron grip of an unloved husband, eaten alive by sadness and suffocating hopelessness of her position.
none of them saw you as an equal: you were only a curious little thing, a way to dispel eternal divine boredom, and the Olympians, of course, did not bother to hide this fact.
you didn't know what your husband found in you, and you didn't want to. sometimes you wished that back then, many, many years ago, he would have left you in that temple, or that you would run from the garden in terror, or anything. anything.
ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______
you knew your place well.
by his side, always, no matter what. from the very day when you stood at the altar and did not dare to raise your eyes to your fiance, you were no longer anything human.
from that moment, you became an ornament, a property, a beautiful doll. nothing more.
Poseidon wanted to see you happy – and you smiled, laughed, you did everything that you thought he would like.
are you satisfied? please tell me you're happy. I'm scared.
scared.
your husband allowed you the freedom he thought his property could have, and you greedily soaked up every drop of it.
you're lucky, you told yourself, you're very, very lucky. It could have been worse. any other girl would give her soul to be in your place, – repeated, looking at your own reflection in the cold glitter of jewelry.
you must be like it yourself. a thing. a thing, of course, must have an owner, and a thing cannot be sad.
Poseidon's cold hand rests on your waist, pulls you into his arms, and you do not allow yourself to resist: you exhale into his neck, placing your small palms on his broad back.
your spouse is purring contentedly.
he's happy. you can relax a little.
ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______
sea nymphs comb your hair, weave pearls into thin braids, fold strands into an intricate hairstyle.
"what's bothering you, madam?" – the lady of the seas does not bother to answer, your dead calm gaze wanders over the high ceilings, walls and huge windows of your chambers.
a common topic of idle conversation among the Olympians was Poseidon's boundless adoration for his charming wife. cruel god who fell in love with a mere mortal – what a beautiful story.
even the ocean itself seemed to dote on you. whenever the warm waves caressed your feet on the coast, your dried-up insides were filled with melancholy. your body was here, in Atlantis, which became a prison for you, and your soul, which remained to pain in your chest human, floated far away. your tired mind wandered, and you are a little girl again, and once again the bright sun warms your childishly plump cheeks, and in your hands are colorful flowers, and the kind grandpa from the temple strokes your head.
Poseidon will be coming for you soon – as always.
as always, you will talk about something, laugh, sitting on his lap in the throne room. or in one of the living rooms, or in the bedroom – you were not allowed to leave him without permission.
you flinched when you felt his strong hand on your shoulder.
Poseidon smirked.
his wife is not going anywhere. she will stay with him.
forever.
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not the best one of my works but uh well I felt like posting something
maaybe will be deleted since it doesn't look as good as I thought it would be in english
btw thinking about writing tartaglia fic soo the next one is probably gonna be genshin man again
thanks for reading!!
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