#Someone commented on the line from no one is coming to save you

[lipslikethegardensofbabylon]

#ttpd analysis day fourteen - The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

i'm gonna be honest with you this was the hardest song to dissect because every time i listen to it the bridge makes me lose my mind. it has the same addictive pull as the bridge of Would've, Could've, Should've, Cruel Summer, Getaway Car. it's SO good, imo one of her best bridges ever written.

i first want to comment on in your Jehovah's Witness suit which is again another lol-lyric moment, but in a big brain connection i saw that @thisisctrying pointed out that he was essentially selling her a religion. i love this bc it continues the religious imagery of Guilty As Sin?

you hung me on your wall, stabbed me with your push pins makes me think of a couple of different things - image wise, it makes me think of pinning a map up on a wall, marking places that you’ve been (also a hint of carve your name into my bedpost ≠ i'm just a notch in your bedpost, but you're just a line in a song (from FOB)). it also makes me think of pierced through the heart but never killed. the other connection that comes up is to “put a pin in it” means to save something for later, typically to postpone something useful but not for immediate use. this meaning feels more likely given the subsequent were you a sleeper cell spy? in fifty years, will all this be declassified?

the bridge just goes so hard, I’m obsessed. there are a few callbacks to previous work but to me this bridge is on mtr echelon:

the betrayal in did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed? is so good. esp given how she historically describes her bed/room as a safe space - turned my bed into a sacred oasis/drew a map on your bedroom ceiling/the warmest bed I’ve ever known

the gun weapon of choice is also interesting to me considering she’s also discussed daggers and poison, and a gun specifically has to be loaded. it makes me think of memories feel like weapons/we gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean, some to throw, some to make a diamond ring

the line were you writing a book? IMMEDIATELTY made me think of so I'll go back to L.A. and the so-called friends who'll write books about me, if I ever make it which is especially painful i think for the narrator. they’ve historically said “I struggle a lot with the idea that my life has become unmanageably sized,” she continued. “Not to sound too dark, but I just struggle with the idea of not feeling like a person.” and this lyric does exactly that - it reduces the person to a product, a story to be sold for a profit.

to end, the lyric and in plain sight you hid but you are what you did and I'll forget you, but I'll never forgive gives me such chills. i saw someone share that they had a history of abuse and that lyric made them feel so validated. there’s just something so haunting and angry but beautiful about it.

#taylor swift #words of mine #ttpdminutes #ttpd minutes #ttpd analysis

[leonisdumbasallhell]

Idk when religious imagery became such a staple in my fics, but here we are ajhkdhj. I just love a Christ allegory and if my blorbo isn’t one, I’m down to bat for the romans.

#I baisically crucify leon in no one is coming to save you #and I'm makin a Lot of religious refs in martyrs&Thieves #the titles literally a christian song abt jesus #I'm not even religious #I'm not even CATHOLIC #I was a fuckin Mormon #It's the art history education #I just love a lamentation #a good pieta #🔪 lore #🔪fics #Someone commented on the line from no one is coming to save you #But who would play judas? He couldn't kiss his own cheek. #and I was like #Thank you for acknowledging that line i love that line so much #I am kissing YOU on the cheek

[minorfamilysupremacy]

quick note: if you're turning on build due to the most recent chat leaks, do me a favor and unfollow, then learn critical thinking skills and ask yourself why you're happily playing into the hands of a known liar and abuser.

#and don't let the door hit your ass on the way out #it's truly astounding to me how little sense people have when it comes to understanding abuse #and how people react in those situations #'he said shitty things' people in abusive situations do horrible things because they're not in safe environments #many of the things he apparently said fall right in line with what poi would want to hear #bagging on shallow things like appearance or being classist #and her homophobia during all of this is well-documented #it's not uncommon for abuse victims to act in a way that they hope will not earn them ire or punishment #and her leaking things about some of the cast members he was closest to is a classic isolation tactic #frankly what i've heard of the comments -- which i have not and will not read in their entirety -- seem like a weird attempt at protection #deny someone else's importance or tear them down so the anger can be focused on you #both the anger from poi and the anger from fans #if you read the logs and think 'oh well he was just lying about caring about bible' i have a bridge in brooklyn to sell you too #it feels like he is constantly hoping to take the brunt of the abuse to save others from it #and so many of you follow like lemmings and demonize him #just as poi fucking wanted #the people who turn on him now are no better than the day-one antis #you fucking make me sick #build jakapan

[headspace-hotel]

I will write this thought about Veganism and Classism in the USA in another post so as to not derail the other thread:

There are comments in the notes that say meat is only cheaper than plant based foods because of subsidies artificially lowering the price of meat in the United States. This is...part of the story but not all of it.

For my animal agriculture lab we went to a butcher shop and watched the butcher cut up a pig into various cuts of meat. I have had to study quite a bit about the meat industry in that class. This has been the first time I fully realized how strongly the meat on a single animal is divided up by socioeconomic class.

Like yes, meat cumulatively takes more natural resources to create and thus should be more expensive, but once that animal is cut apart, it is divided up between rich and poor based on how good to eat the parts are. I was really shocked at watching this process and seeing just how clean and crisp an indicator of class this is.

Specifically, the types of meat I'm most familiar with are traditionally "waste" parts left over once the desirable parts are gone. For example, beef brisket is the dangly, floppy bit on the front of a cow's neck. Pork spareribs are the part of the ribcage that's barely got anything on it.

And that stuff is a tier above the "meat" that is most of what poor people eat: sausage, hot dogs, bologna, other heavily processed meat products that are essentially made up of all the scraps from the carcass that can't go into the "cuts" of meat. Where my mom comes from in North Carolina, you can buy "livermush" which is a processed meat product made up of a mixture of liver and a bunch of random body parts ground up and congealed together. There's also "head cheese" (made of parts of the pig's head) and pickled pigs' feet and chitlin's (that's made of intestines iirc) and cracklin's (basically crispy fried pig skin) and probably a bunch of stuff i'm forgetting. A lot of traditional Southern cooking uses basically scraps of animal ingredients to stretch across multiple meals, like putting pork fat in beans or saving bacon grease for gravy or the like.

So another dysfunctional thing about our food system, is that instead of people of each socioeconomic class eating a certain number of animals, every individual animal is basically divided up along class lines, with the poorest people eating the scraps no one else will eat (oftentimes heavily processed in a way that makes it incredibly unhealthy).

Even the 70% lean ground beef is made by injecting extra leftover fat back into the ground-up meat because the extra fat is undesirable on the "better" cuts. (Gross!)

I've made, or eaten, many a recipe where the only thing that makes it non-vegan is the chicken broth. Chicken broth, just leftover chicken bones and cartilage rendered and boiled down in water? How much is that "driving demand" for meat, when it's basically a byproduct?

That class really made me twist my brain around about the idea of abstaining from animal products as a way to deprive the industry of profits. Nobody eats "X number of cows, pigs, chickens in a lifetime" because depending on the socioeconomic class, they're eating different parts of the animal, splitting it with someone richer or poorer than they are. If a bunch of people who only ate processed meats anyway abstained, that wouldn't equal "saving" X number of animals, it would just mean the scraps and byproducts from a bunch of people's steaks or pork chops would have something different happen to them.

The other major relevant conclusion I got from that class, was that animal agriculture is so dominant because of monoculture. People think it's animal agriculture vs. plant agriculture (or plants used for human consumption vs. using them to feed livestock), but from capitalism's point of view, feeding animals corn is just another way to use corn to generate profits.

People think we could feed the world by using the grain fed to animals to feed humans, but...the grain fed to animals, is not actually a viable diet for the human population, because it's literally just corn and soybean. Like animal agriculture is used to give some semblance of variety to the consumer's diet in a system that is almost totally dominated by like 3 monocrops.

Do y'all have any idea how much of the American diet is just corn?!?! Corn starch, corn syrup, corn this, corn that, processed into the appearance of variety. And chickens and pigs are just another way to process corn. That's basically why we have them, because they can eat our corn. It's a total disaster.

And it's even worse because almost all the USA's plant foods that aren't the giant industrial monocrops maintained by pesticides and machines, are harvested and cared for by undocumented migrant workers that get abused and mistreated and can't say anything because their boss will tattle on them to ICE.

#agriculture #it's so messed up #plants #livestock

[highvern]

Work Me Out

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, 18+

Warnings: working out, flirting, touching, almost car sex, making out, breast play, fingering, oral, face sitting, multiple sex positions, big dick mingyu, protected sex (gasp!), strength kink, dirty talk, choking, spanking :) lover boy gyu as always. let me know if i missed anything!

Length: ~5k

Note: y'all thought cheol rot was bad but the OG bias wrecker is back. dont come at me for gym terminology i go by vibes. replaced my gym crush with mingyu and this is what happened <3 i have a bonus/pt 2 in the drafts too but I'll wait to post it bc too much muscle pig mingyu is bad for the soul... and the [redacted]

to the anon that sent me a seok ask forever ago about his arms, im sorry i used it in this fic. but know i have a seok fic with exactly what you asked for in the works rn. everyone say thank you anon.

@bbychocolat do not hit my line about mingyu for at least 24 business hours i need to recover

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

read part II

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Figuring out the ins and outs of a new gym isn’t easy but it isn’t impossible. Go too early and you’re surrounded by creepy men old enough to be your grandfather. Right after work is a sure way to experience hoards of gym bros crowding around machines like they own them. 

So you go as late as possible. 

Only a handful of people are dispersed through the large space. A few run on the treadmills lined on the catwalk of the second floor, several switch through different weights in front of the mirrors. You make your way through the maze of equipment towards the leg press; your final sets before you can go home and wash away the grime of the day.

Or you would if someone wasn’t occupying the one machine you need.

Peeping your head around, you notice a black backpack and matching water bottle on the ground. You glance around, unable to find a clear owner since the next closest person is halfway across the gym doing a different exercise.

Would it be that rude to take the machine out from under someone if they’re not even using it? You could probably get in all your sets before the person even came back if you moved quickly.

You wait a few minutes. How embarrassing would it be to have the mystery person walk back up the second you sat down? But after five minutes pass and no one emerges to claim the spot, you set about changing the weights out.

And just when you slip into the seat, you look up and find someone approaching.

He’s tall, he’s handsome, and he’s barely ten feet away. Your saving grace is that he hasn’t spotted you yet thanks to his phone. 

But that doesn’t last long.

“Oh! Sorry! Were you using this machine?” You ask, trying to sound cordial. 

“It’s okay!” He smiles at you. “Do you need it?”

Yes.

“No, I can find something else to do.” 

You rise to do just that when he stops you with a shrug.

“I don’t mind sharing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I take long breaks between my sets anyway so it’s no big deal.”

So that’s where he went.

“Okay, thanks.”

“No problem.”

He moves to lean against the wall, face buried in his phone once again as you work through your set. Honestly you think he forgot you were even there until you start standing up and he pushes off his perch. 

Exchanging polite smiles, you skirt around him and snag your water bottle before occupying the same spot against the painted bricks. You try not to be a creep but watching the way the muscles in his legs bulge and coil with each rep is impossible to look away from. Especially when there’s just so much to look at.

He racks up twelve reps with ease and switches back off with you before wandering out of sight.

You work through two of your sets before he comes teetering back. 

“I tried putting it back to your weight.” You laugh, sipping from your water bottle.

“Three forty? Ouch.”

“What? Should I have made it lighter?”

“Try heavier. Like four hundred.”

“My sincerest apologies.” You mock, placing your hand over your heart. “I’ll remember that next time.”

He laughs again before slipping back into the seat and working through the motions.

This time you don’t bother hiding the way you watch him over your phone. He looks good, it’d be a waste not to watch the swell of his chest or the stretch of his thighs. The gym shorts and snug black t-shirt only exacerbate how cut his physique is. 

And if he makes a comment you can always twist your not so subtle gawking into a compliment about his form.

When he finishes his set again, he snags his bag and water bottle off the ground before turning to you. “All yours. Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too.”

And he’s gone.

Over the next few weeks, you learn mystery man works out at the same time you. He’s there when you arrive and remains when you leave after an hour and a half of sweating and gasping like a dying fish, only absent on Wednesdays when you manage the most last luster workouts of your life. The disappointment the first time you realized you were looking for the backwards cap sticking out amongst the free weights would have been embarrassing but what's wrong with a little eye candy while breaking a sweat? 

And what a great view he makes. Your brief peeks into the mirrored walls are full of nothing straining muscles and glowing skin. The first day he did arms in a cutoff tee will go down in history as the worst day of your life. Only rivaled by all the other days he works his legs in shorts accentuating just how nice his ass is with every squat.

Your friends all ask when you’re going to talk to him again. As if you’ll just walk right up and interrupt the best part of your day. No, you’d rather watch him move across the gym floor from the corner of your eye, throw him a friendly nod, and go about your business than run the risk of making things awkward.

Unfortunately, doesn’t possess the same desire to remain a friendly nameless face like you do.

His name is Mingyu. Or that’s what the employee with glasses calls him while they joke around one night. You don’t mean to eavesdrop but they’re loud and the only exit takes you right past the U-shaped desk. Mingyu throws a grin as you pass by on your way out and the flash of teeth spikes your heart rate higher than any exercise you’ve done that night.

When he officially introduces himself at the water fountain the next night, you have to bite the urge to tell him ‘I know.’ Instead you snort at his extended hand, providing your own name over the firm shake like you won’t be haunted by the feeling of the calluses on his fingers or the heat of his palm for the next week. 

What’s worse is how he says your name back, rolling the sound across his tongue and past his quirked lips. 

And the final nail in the coffin is when you leave and you see the way he turns in the glass doors to watch, bidding you a goodnight with your name signed at the end.

Mingyu might be the worst gym crush in the world. Mostly because your thoughts of him extend beyond the brick walls he should only exist in. And partially because he’s caught you staring more times than you care to admit. 

Not as many times as you’ve caught him, but the point stands.

No, the worst part, you find out, is Mingyu is an incorrigible flirt. And he knows it.

Tonight you’re off schedule, runny nearly half an hour later than usual.; work clothes sticking to your skin as you make your way towards the off shooting hall housing the entrance to the locker rooms. In a rush, you step around another body only to end up in front of one much more familiar.

“There's my girl.” Mingyu smiles. “Thought you were skipping out on me.”

My girl. My girl. My girl, my girl, my girl….

There isn’t a thought in your head beyond the bold casualness he drops that bomb on you with so you nod awkwardly and force yourself not to sprint the next twenty feet to hide.

Half an hour later, when you catch him watching you in the mirror over his own weights, the bastard smiles like the cat who caught the canary. 

But you end up on top when Mingyu offers to spot you while doing weighted squats. He’s at your back, an appropriate amount of space between your bodies you wish he’d close. You don’t need his help. Your form is better than his (you would know, his ass and thighs give you tunnel vision when its his leg day). And the weight on the bar isn’t even enough to make you strain but why pass up on the offer? Especially with how Mingyu meets your eyes over your shoulder in the mirror with each dip.

And then he cheers ‘that’s my girl’ again when you re-rack the equipment with ease and it's over.

“Shit,” you grunt. 

Mingyu pops up from his perch between your breasts under your shirt, hair a mess and eyes glazed. “Good?”

“No, your steering wheel is in my back.” You wince, attempting to wiggle away and ending up further up his lap.

“Sorry, let me just…”

The seat flies back under your combined weight, throwing your forehead right into Mingyu’s chin.

“Fuck!” 

“Oh my god!” You gasp. “Are you okay?”

Mingyu’s head falls back as he releases a massive sigh. Each second that ticks by has you both coming to the same conclusion.

“Yeah,” you breath, sitting up. “I think this was a bad idea.”

“Oh…”

“I just mean like your car is small and you’re too big and I—“

The guffaw Mingyu tries to hide slips free too easily. “That’s what she said.”

“God, you’re gross.” 

Your nose crinkles as you rise up, using his chest for leverage. It feels as nice as it looks and its the worst knowledge you’ve gained in you life.

“Sticks and stones,” he hums.

“Well this was fun. I’ll ugh… see you around?”

When you try to shift back into the passenger seat to exit, Mingyu’s hands flex over your thighs to keep you in his lap. His sweats do nothing to hide his semi. Something he doesn’t even seem to consider as a concern given the way he unconsciously curls into you.

“Or we can go back to mine.”

He’s trying and failing to sound nonchalant. Like he won’t go home and fuck his fist in the shower with the echoes of your sighs filling his ears if you turn him down. You can see it in his eyes. What hinges on his offer and how much you’ll both regret it if the tension fizzles and dies in his SUV.

From where you’re sitting, it’s incredibly difficult to think with your head and not your hormones. Mingyu is hot, he’s nice, he seems decent enough. His behavior doesn’t hint at him being a creep. If he’s normal enough to fuck in his car, is he not normal enough to fuck in the comfort of a bed?

The thumb stroking your thighs and the hopeful eyes staring you down make the decision for you.

“Yeah, okay.” 

With his address in your phone’s GPS, you trail after his SUV in your own car. The roads are familiar because they’re the same roads you drive when you return to your apartment that turns out to be only three blocks closer to the gym than Mingyu’s. 

All this time he’d been so close and you never even realized. Did he think about you the same way you thought about him when he drove home? If he did, you’re in for a night.

Rolling into a space only a few down from where he parks, you pause to hype yourself up. 

People have sex all the time. It’s no big deal. I can do this. 

A knock at the window interrupts your spiral, finding Mingyu smiling sheepishly through the glass. The muscles in your chest squeeze when he opens the door and holds it for you to exit; and threaten to explode when his hand finds the small of your back and guides you towards the stairwell.

Footsteps echo down to the hall, Mingyu only a fraction ahead to lead the way to a non-descript door with a seasonal doormat that's seen better days.

“Ugh, this is it.” 

His apartment is shockingly clean for a guy your age. Not clean in the ‘I don’t own enough shit to even be dirty’ way. No, Mingyu’s apartment is cozy. There’s throw pillows and blankets on the couch. He has a lamp and bookshelf in the corner and the walls are adorned with a collage of artwork thoughtfully pieced together. Several personal photos are littered throughout, some with an obviously younger Mingyu propped next to what must be a sister or a cousin, a few of him with friends. One of him and a familiar man with glasses, their faces blurry but the glee clear as they’re frozen in time. Your lips lift with a soft smile at the personal touches bleeding into every corner of his space.

Turning over your shoulder you ask, “You and the guy at the gym are friends?” 

Mingyu’s watching you with something unidentifiable in his eyes, stepping forward to figure out which frame you're looking at until he’s only a foot behind you.

“Yeah, we went to the same middle school.”

“And this one?” You say, fingers tracing the edge of the wooden frame.

“My little sister.” Mingyu follows, still only a step behind.

“And I’m assuming these are your parents?”

“Actually those are Wonwoo’s parents.” He chuckles. “These are my parents.”

Mingyu’s arm reaches around to point at the correct photo, his chest brushing against your back.

“Wanna give me the tour?”

Mingyu manages to show you everything in five minutes. The living room and connected kitchen you’re already standing in, the door of the hall bathroom, and finally his bedroom. You take a seat on the edge of the bed, discovering the new smattering of details that uncover more about the man waiting with baited breath in the threshold. 

“Why are you over there?” You ask.

With arms crossed and shoulders up to his ears, Mingyu resembles a kid waiting to be scolded rather than a man who tried to hook up with you in his car less than thirty minutes ago.

“I’m nervous.”

You can’t stop the satisfaction from spreading to your face. “I make you nervous?”

Mingyu pushes off the door jam, shuffling forward until he’s standing a foot in front of you. “Yeah. I don’t really do stuff like this.”

“Stuff like what? Try and fuck girls in your car?”

“Haha.” Mingyu mocks, face descending until he rubs his nose with yours.

Your eyes slip closed when his do, breathing each other's air. “Stuff like what, Gyu?”

Your hands find the material of his shirt stretched across his shoulder. Each brush of his lips across your cheek, down your jaw, until he finds your ear.

“I don’t sleep around with girls I’m not dating.”

Oh.

“We don’t hav—”

“Which is not the best way to ask you out.”

You press him out of your space, far enough that you can look him in the eyes and see if he’s serious. The tips of Mingyu’s ears burn red but he’s looking right at you despite how embarrassed he clearly feels.

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“Ugh, yeah. I think it’d be fun. But you don’t have to! If you just wanna do this that's fine t—”

Whatever words Mingyu was trying to say fizzle on the tip of his tongue as you pull him into a kiss. He curls over you, pressing you further into his bed with every fervent pass. Wedging one hand under the small of your back, Mingyu lifts you up and carries you while he crawls to the center.

Your mind wanders to all the other ways he can manhandle you into the mattress.

He settles flat against you, hips cradled between your own while delving into your mouth. You fill your hands with his ass, dragging Mingyu’s covered cock against your core. A groan backs apart your lips as Mingyu falls into the curve of your neck. 

“This is a yes to the date by the way.” You pant now that he’s taken over, hands scratching up his back in an effort to get rid of his shirt. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

Mingyu’s clothes disappear over his head and across the room, yours following shortly after. The heat of bare skin on bare skin is better than anything until he takes one of your breasts in his palm and the other in his mouth. 

Every curse you know flies through your lips as he sucks and pinches until you're sore between the legs.

He takes the squeeze of your thighs and the rock of your hips as a greenlight, hands leading where his lips follow until it’s nothing but your panty clad core an inch from his face.

“This okay?” Mingyu asks in the fat of your thigh, tongue trailing fire across the skin.

You nod with a sigh, “Mingyu, please.”

He doesn’t need much more than that, the fabric barrier gone in a blink and his nose traces your folds until he’s dying for a taste.

Mingyu eats pussy like he doesn’t need oxygen. The path of his pointed tongue around your clit is nothing short of precise, meticulously tracing every ridge and curve until the sheets stretch under your fingers. When he flattens it to pay broader attention, your legs squeeze and Mingyu’s hands force them wide around his shoulders.

Your feet flatten on the bed and thrust up his mouth, wet and crude with fingers in his hair and your whines in his ears. Every suck of Mingyu’s mouth forces the muscles in your neck to lerch until they hurt and your head falls back. He takes pride in the way you drip for him, making the best mess he’s ever had the privilege to clean up.

You reward him with an lavishing praise at the next twitch of your insides, “Fuck, just like that.” 

Taking advantage of the slight arch in your spine, Mingyu’s hand sneaks under your back, fingers unforgiving as they dig into your ass. He curls your hips up and buries a finger in your core with mortifying ease.

Between your legs, Mingyu catches your eyes. Pupils blown wide, mouths bruised around stuttered breath. A matching set of debauched expressions. He’s more familiar like this; skin glowing with sweat, and hair matted to his forehead. Next time you see him at the gym you know it's all you’ll think about. Next time you're alone in your room, or the shower, or the grocery store. Or anywhere you’ve day dreamed about him before.

He leans back to watch the digit disappear, only to reappear soaking. “Feels good?”

“Give me another and it will.”

You savor the rhythm he sets, thick fingers working to prep you for what you felt under his shorts. His tongue is hard and wet at your clit, fingers stretching and spreading until your stomach dips and you nearly buck him off as your clit swells from abuse.  

Your fingers pluck at your nipples and Mingyu apparently likes to watch because he manages more enthusiasm, forces his finger to crook just the right way, and continues to suck even after you start screaming.

“Oh fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chant, voice cracked.

Something sounding suspiciously like a ‘thank you’ drops into the mix but Mingyu’s the only one to hear it. In his opinion, he should be the one doing the thanking; you just gave him enough spank bank material for the next six months.

You don’t dislike the taste of yourself on his tongue, his lips, his chin, his cheeks, and even his chest when you flip Mingyu over and aim to return the favor. He blushes when you lap against the hollow of his throat; embarrassed from the way he goes boneless with such simple affection.

He sinks into the plush of the mattress, propped up by the mountain of pillows at the headboard. Mingyu’s stomach stiffens under your tongue and the twitch blooms a smile on your face. Predictable.

“Sensitive?”

Your nails raking up the shape of his thighs turn the denial falling from his lips into a whine, and it makes you wonder what other sounds Mingyu will make with his cock in your mouth.

The vein bulging along the underside of his length gives your tongue something to trace along as you lap from base to flared tip, sucking down until it shines from spit and pre-cum. You take all you can until the curve of your throat protests.

Mingyu’s big and he’s loud.

“Oh God, shit.” He babbles with abandon, hands fisted at his sides until his knuckles turn pale.

You focus on the cock in your mouth rather than how pretty Mingyu’s chest would look covered in bite marks. How a bruise on his hip would be just visible when he reaches over his head to do pull ups, and red streaks from your nails on his bicep would make a great accessory.

A hand lands on the base of your skull, gentle until it's not. His thumb dips to stroke the bulge of his dick through your throat as you take him deeper. And like some ridiculous porno theres still an inch you’ll never be able to take even if you do nothing but let him fucking your mouth until the only thing you taste is cum.

“Fuuuuck,” Mingyu groans from a harsh suck on the upstroke.

He distracts you with his tongue on yours, keeping you from diving back down and destroying his ego from how quick you almost made him cum. Your one solace is the lazy grip you have on the base of Mingyu’s length, fingers tightening around the head while he cants into the squeeze.

You think Mingyu is going to plant you on his cock and make you ride it until one of you is crying. But he keeps pushing and pulling until you’re kneeling over his face, knees cushioned in the pillows and hands against the wall to steady you while he dives in again.

His head shakes back and forth, tongue out to swipe messily at your clit as you grind into his face. The last grip of sanity you have gives you the mind to reach back, jerking Mingyu off while he eats it, a cycle of moans moving through you; him into your folds when you squeeze from a grating pass off his tongue that has you whining to the ceiling fan.

“Shit, need you to fuck me.” You whine but don’t stop curling against the latch of his lips, legs stiff with ache.

It’s Mingyu who brings things to a halt, raising you away from his mouth until you're left on your knees while he stands to rummage in the drawer for a condom. You listen while the paint of the wall cools your forehead.

The hand at the dip of your spine makes you melt when he checks in, “Still okay?”

Nodding, you find him over your shoulder with a thick swallow. Mingyu’s nose follows the slope of your muscles, lips untying all the knots he’s worked into them over the past few weeks.

“Want it like this?”

“Yeah.”

You drop until your chest meets the bed and arch until it hurts just to put on a good show. Mingyu shuffles behind you, knocking your knees wider with his own, palms molding to your ass and spreading it apart to take a good look like he wasn’t tongue deep inside your pussy already. The room is nothing more than the sounds of grounding breaths; Mingyu watching the way your torso moves around the air, releasing a long exhale before moving closer.

The feel of his chest against yours was great, but the hard muscle of it along your back, his chain caught between and leaving a definitive mark, is life ruining. It shreds the last bit of humanity you’ve been clinging to since you dragged Mingyu to the parking lot and tried to stick your hands down his pants while leant against the passenger door.

No matter how well Mingyu stretched you for his cock it was never going to be enough. Taking the first inch nearly splits you in half. But you're soaked and needy; nothing short of the end of the world is going to keep you from getting the satisfaction of feeling him in your guts. You take it with measured breaths and affirmations to relax. Slow arches of his hips work him in until he’s flat with your ass and whispering absolute depravity into your ears.

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

Arching your ass higher, you whimper, “You’re huge.”

Your ass stings under his punishing hand, thrown forward by an involuntary buck of his hips.

“Don’t say that.”

You turn until you can look over your shoulder again, meeting wild eyes. “You feels so good.” You moan, eyelids low and wrecked.

“Didn’t—shit, think you’d have such a dirty mouth.” He bites into the side of your neck, sucking a bruise like a depraved teenager. 

“I knew you’d have a fat cock.”

You get what you want so easily it's almost insulting; Mingyu’s hand forcing your face into the sheets and his hips rushing into you with pure need. Every prod into your cunt has you wailing. It’d destroy your self respect if you could think of anything beyond how he’s ruining you for anyone else.

Pillows topple off the edge of the bed as you scramble for a hold. Anything to ground you against the burn in your veins with every tight squeeze around Mingyu’s cock. His balls slap against your clit teasingly, more degrading than the way he has you bent in half. 

“Harder,” you beg.

Mingyu falls back on his haunches, pulling you with him until you're sitting up right. His arm comes into view, curling around neck until your throat sits in the crux of his elbow and his hand latches on your shoulder; a crude headlock he uses as leverage to keep fucking into you. You’ve been choked but this is infinitely better. Whatever Mingyu wants to take from you, he’s in a position to do so.

“Gonna cum?” He nips into your earlobe.

His hand shoves its way between your legs, swipe roughly against your clit before you can even hope to answer.

A pathetic nod is all you manage thanks to the muscles gathered under your chin limiting your mobility.

Mingyu let's go then and your hands prevent a crash into the headboard, putting you back in the same position as before but you have to work for it now; ass bouncing in his laps as you ride him. Finding your balance, you drop one hand to your clit as Mingyu’s pinch your nipples.

“Let me have it, let me make you come." Mingyu pants into your spine. "Fuck you look so good like this, shit.”

He keeps rambling, flying with you towards the edge hand in hand; both breathless from the slap of your thighs against his.

“Mingyu, feel so good. Oh my god, oh my g—”

The softness of the pillows greets you once again while everything flashes white. Mingyu scrambles behind, fucking you into the mattress while you soak his cock. Muscles twitching, teeth ground till they crack, you come and come and come while begging him to do the same.

Mingyu gives in without hesitation, all his weight behind his hips as he fills the condom; dragging you back with an arm around your waist. Every jerk of his cock against your walls from the force makes you vibrate until he’s slipping out, soiled and used against the back of your thigh.

The last thing you register is his lips finding your shoulder again, rubbing back and forth as he comes down.

You fall asleep under the heat of his body for who knows how long, content in the mind shattering numbness of what just happened. Mingyu seems to feel the same, dead weight hanging half off you so you can at least manage to breath.

When you wake, whether it's twenty minutes or two hours later, Mingyu is snoring into the pillow, still naked. His lips pout in his sleep and you swallow the urge to shower them with kisses thanks to the drool at the corner of his mouth.

Even without the covers, you're warm. The kind of heat that slips over your skin, sinks into your bones and keens for you to fall asleep and stay. But Mingyu asked you on a date, not to spend the night. And you’d hate to assume and ruin whatever this is before it as a chance to start.

“Where are you going?” He pouts.

You don't make it two inches out of his arms before he’s pulling you back, tangling them around you so there's no chance of unnoticed escape. Mingyu digs his nose into your cheek and waits for an answer like he has all the time in the world.

Something tells you if he knew you were attempting to head home, Mingyu would throw a fit. And what use is that when you want to see what a night sleep with a giant human furnace is like?

“Bathroom.”

Adding to the list of information you’ve learned, Mingyu is a stage five clinger. He latches on to your back, guiding you into the shower stall for a quick spray down that leaves half your face, part of your thigh, and almost none of him clean.

He falls asleep against the base of your skull while brushing your teeth, because of course he has a stash of extra toothbrushes under the sink just in case. 

And when you crawl under the fresh sheets, he pulls you into his chest, leaves a kiss against your forehead, and tells you he can’t wait for your breakfast date tomorrow.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

#svthub #ksmutsociety #kvanity #svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #🫡 highvern

[stevebabey]

totally didn’t expect the other part to do well at all but 😳 apparently i don’t know steddie fans. as such, have a part two <3 part one is here again, look out for the borrowed hunger games lines

“You’ve ruined your life, you know that, right?”

The kitchen had been basking in the lull of the quiet morning before Eddie had spoken up, breaking the silence. Steve blinks, realising he’s been zoned out staring at the swirling bubbles atop his mug of coffee and look up at Eddie across the table.

“Doing what you did.” Eddie continues. There’s this slight in his voice. Steve figures it’s not really aimed at him.

Chief Powell had agreed to not release the details of the case to the public for obvious reason. However, it went without saying that of the cops working the case, not all would be so free-thinking. There were plenty who deemed leaking the alibi and letting the town devour Steve’s reputation a more than fair consequence.

And, well, Eddie didn’t have any reputation left to tarnish or save.

Steve takes a sip of his coffee and lets the warm flavour coat his tastebuds as he tries to puts his thoughts in the right order.

He knows how Eddie sees this— sees it as this burden that he’s imposed on Steve’s life. That he had been able to accept it at first, the whispers of freedom tempting enough that he could be selfish enough to gasp them.

Then yesterday afternoon, Steve had come back from Bradley’s Big Buy with dried yolks splattered across the windscreen and regret howled through Eddie like a hurricane, fierce and wild. Realisation of what Steve had condemned himself to— no- what Eddie had condemned him to finally sunk in.

Steve can tell he’s been stewing on it all night. In the couple weeks he’s been here, staying in under the Harrington roof just down the hall from Steve, he’s surprised by how easily his brain has tacked on to Eddie’s habits. His little Eddie-ism’s. That’s what Steve calls them.

Like how Eddie’s nose will twitch if there’s something on his plate he doesn’t like, but he’s too polite to say it.

How he thumbs up and down the edge of a book when he’s reading, completely entranced. Doesn’t even notice his moving, twittering fingers.

How he’s always so much twitchier the morning after a sleep laced with terror after terror. It gives him away before Steve even see the bags under his eyes, the hollowness of his face.

Steve recognises that one from himself, from back when he’d gone through it all for the first time. The flinch is unshakeable when you’re convinced it’s all going to come back— that the world is going to tear itself up and spit out monsters you haven’t even dreamed of.

Today, Eddie isn’t twitchy like that. He’s tired, a sunken in face that comes from a bone-deep aching tiredness. He picks at his breakfast, bitterly avoiding the eggs on his plate.

And Steve can’t pretend to understand how Eddie grew up — can take his guesses but ultimately won’t get near the experiences he knows Eddie has lived through. Steve has only ever been on the other side. Stayed silent while someone else through snide comments and used the word fag like a jagged blade, to cut someone down.

So, he doesn’t know. Not even a year with Robin as his best friend and all her knowledge could’ve prepared Steve for the startling fear he’d felt when coming out of the store to the sight of a group of boys around his car, cartons of eggs in hand. One with a crowbar.

They would’ve smashed his windows if he had come out a minute later, he’s sure of it.

It had been like getting doused in icy water — the Letterman jackets on all of them, the sneers, still jeering taunts as they’d scattered across the parking lot. Steve had felt the bile rise in his throat as he got in the car and sat, staring at the steering wheel, his slimy fear melting and mixing with his anger.

Eddie’s point of view suddenly resounded within Steve in a way he hadn’t known before. Standing on tables, hollering about conformity, leaning in to every foul rumour about him— like a person drawing to full height, making himself as big as possible, to scare off a bear.

Steve gets that a little more now.

So, when Eddie tells him you’ve ruined your life he knows what he’s trying to tell him. Except, Steve doesn’t know how to say lightly that he’d gladly ruin his life to save Eddie’s. It’s too much — but Steve always is. Always loves in these big heavy ways that are too hard to handle.

So instead, he shrugs and says, “Consider it a trade.”

Eddie cocks his head, like a dog, just an inch.

“For following me into the lake and saving my life.”

Eddie scoffs and his head lolls back dramatically like what Steve’s said is ridiculous. “Jesus H Christ, dude, you saved yourself. I told you that I would’ve been too cowardly to come after you if Birdie and Wheeler hadn’t gone in first.”

He mutters the word cowardly with a hiss.

“Well then, a trade for drawing the bats away.”

“You mean the time I nearly became hamburger helper for the bats?”

“Christ, Eddie,” Steve scoffs. “I didn’t take you as someone who fished for compliments so hard.”

Eddie frowns, dropping his fork with a clatter on his plate. “I— what? I’m not- I don’t even—”

Steve cuts in. “You helped us and you saved my life, whether your horrible little brain can admit that or not. So,” He sits back in his chair with another little shrug and sips his coffee. “Equal trade.”

Eddie frowns, a crease forming between his brows. “No, not equal, Steve. You don’t get what you’ve done you— ugh, you just don’t—”

He huffs, cutting himself off, clearly unsure of how to voice his frustrations. He slumps back in his chair and eyes the eggs on his plate again with a glare this time.

Steve waits a moment and hopes he isn’t overstepping when he says, voice quiet, “I know, Eddie.”

Across the table, Eddie’s eyes raise to meet Steve’s and he doesn’t sound smug, he doesn’t sound angry, he just sounds defeated when he speaks.

“Do you?”

“Maybe not quite the extent of it until yesterday but, yes… I know.”

His words sink it and Eddie looks… affronted. His eyes get a little wide and a tremble finds his lips. Like the whole time he’d been convinced Steve wasn’t sure what he’d been getting into, that the reality hadn’t set in— that any moment he would rescind his alibi and throw Eddie to the cops and let them snap the cuffs back on him.

Steve hates that expression. Loathes that Eddie is so surprised that anyone would do this for him — something as important as keeping him alive and out of prison. Steve hates it because he knows it means that somewhere along the way, somebody had convinced Eddie that nobody would.

So, if he’s got to be the one to convince Eddie that someone will— that he will make the effort, will put his neck on the line because… well, isn’t that what Steve does best?

He’ll do it gladly.

Eddie picks up his fork and stabs his fork into the egg, the buttery yolk spilling onto the plate. Steve takes it as a truce, as him meeting him in the middle.

"So,” Steve swirls the mug in his hand and swills another sip back. Swallows it and takes a page out of Eddie’s book and goes the joke, leaning forward, forearms on the table. “If I’m gonna be your boyfriend for the foreseeable future I should probably know more stuff about you. Y’know, like, uh, the deep stuff.”

Eddie’s sunk back down in his seats but at Steve’s final sentence, he perks up. A smirking sort of grin crossing his face and Eddie twists a piece of his hair in front of his mouth. He hasn’t kept eating yet, too focused on the conversation.

"Uh-oh, the deep stuff.” He’s got that teasing tone in his voice. “Like what?"

"Like...” Steve scrambles to pull something from his brain. “Um, what’s your favourite colour?"

“Oh well, now you've stepped over the line."

Eddie’s sarcasm melts into a chuckle as Steve laughs, ducking his head instinctively. When he lifts his gaze, he’s relieved that Eddie looks a little lighter. Not much but a smidge of difference — Steve can see it if he squints. He’s sure it won’t be the last conversation they’ll have about this but for now, it’s settled.

Curiosity piques in Steve and he tries to sound casual when he says, “No, really, what is it?”

Eddie blinks and curls his hair around his finger once more, tugging it lightly. He seems to be considering his answer, eyes dropping to the sweater Steve’s donning.

“Yellow.” He finally says. “Not mustard but, y’know, lighter. Colour of the moon on Halloween or…”

“Cheese?” Steve suggests.

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, the right kind of cheese, sure. What about you? Favourite colour?”

Steve considers it — for the longest time, it had been red because Tommy had told him that red or blue were the coolest colours to like, way back in third grade. No one has asked him since then.

“Pink, actually.” Steve admits, hand coming up to brush across his nose, trying to hide behind the motion. He envies Eddie’s long curls suddenly. He feels the need to explain, more words rolling off his tongue. “Like, y’know, when the sun starts to set, like all dusky, it’s just… nice.”

Eddie’s staring at him peculiarly, his lips parted yet quirked up in this faint smile. If Steve didn’t know any better, he’d call it awe. Breaking his stare, Eddie chuckles again, finally properly picking his fork up to finish his meal.

“Steve Harrington.” He murmurs warmly, more to himself. His lips twitch with a smile. “You just keep surprising me.”

—

some people wanted more 🤲 uh get tagged idiot - normally i don’t do taglists but u were all so kind as to reply to the post & i didn’t get a chance to say thank u for ur lovely words! this is my thank u! have sum more!

@friendlyorange @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @lostinadmiration @life-love-musicaltheatre @oldlovershippiemusic5 @phoeniceae @catateme9 @lolawonsstuff @justagaypanda @pluto-pepsi @whoopstie @scenesofobx @justforthedead89 @musical-theatre-gay @theperksofbeingstjimmy @ikilledabuginthewall @imauselessartist @fridgebaby @lingeringmirth and uhhh @corrodedcoughin cos i still do a little squeal when u rb my tings even tho we’re mewchies :D

#ignoring the other characters rn lmao #i wrote it in a day. Sue me #something about like eddie being convinced that steve Doesn’t Understand #cos if he did he wouldn’t have done this!! #and steve being like i know eddie… i know #I Knew It And I Did It Anyways #steve’s puts-himself-on-the-line selflessness vs. eddie disbelieving he’s worth it #[street fighter voice] FIGHT! #uhhhhh does baby boy steve even know he likes men yet? probably notttt #¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #ruby writes steddie #steve x eddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie hurt/comfort

[helen-with-an-a]

You always have an excuse

Hi. So this is a request and I really liked the idea. Hopefully, I did it justice. I hope you enjoy

Barca Femeni x reader

Description: R always has excuses but eventually slips up.

Part 1 : Part 2

Word Count: 3.8k

Shit. Shit. Shit. You were late. You were so late. But it wasn’t your fault; indeed, honestly, it wasn’t your fault. Your parents were not the greatest at being parents. They had you when they were just 16 and far too young to be having children. Sure, they paid for your football stuff and gave you a lot of what you asked for, but it was to keep you quiet and out of the house. You didn’t mind too much. It was easier when you only had to look out for yourself, never telling your parents where or who you were with. You always had a range of excuses ready for anyone who asked – lying and telling your friend’s parents that someone else would be taking you home, saying your mum was just around the corner, she had work so couldn’t come to your matches. It was fine. You knew nothing different.

You signed for La Masia when you were 10. The training was intense, but you loved it. You thrived under the pressure, quickly working your way up the ranks. Your debut for the first team happened shortly before your 16th birthday. You had never felt prouder of yourself.

“And here we have it. At just 15 years old, Y/F/N Y/S/N, making her debut for FC Barcelona Femeni. She’s homegrown, working her way up La Masia ranks. She is definitely a future star.” The commentator said as you made your way onto the pitch. This is what you have been dreaming of since you discovered football. This was the dream that only some people achieved. And you were one of them. A professional footballer. Your life’s goal was achieved.

The game was an easy win. The other team was fighting a relegation battle, as Barca slipped 10 goals past their keeper.

“Vamos,” Patri shouted as she shook you by the shoulders. “A debut and a brace. Is that a Ballon d’Or I see in your future?” You laughed as she wrapped you in a fierce hug.

“Neña, what a performance, hey?” Mapi called as Alexia affectionately hit the back of your head.

“Where’s your Mamí? I’m sure she wants to see you after that performance.” You didn’t even bat an eyelid as you smiled sweetly at Marta

“Oh, she said we’d meet outside by the main gates – saves us from trying to find each other on the pitch and in the crowd.” You waved at the chaos surrounding you. You knew your mother was nowhere near the football stadium – you doubted she even knew you had a football match, let alone your senior debut. It was easy to slip away from the changing rooms; you had significant practice doing it most of your life.

And now you were running so, so late. You had woken up on time, but the food in the house looked a little off, so you rushed to get something from the bakery on your way to the bus stop. But the line was bigger than anticipated, so you were rushing to catch the bus. A man walking in the other direction wasn’t paying attention and crashed into you, causing you to drop your stuff and spill hot coffee all over yourself. That had disrupted your flow, and you missed the bus, having to wait 5 minutes for the next one, which wasn’t a big deal. However, the metro system was delayed. And now you were 10 minutes behind, and then the bus you were supposed to catch from the metro station to the training centre never showed up, so you had to catch an alternative one, making you 30 minutes late. You had texted Jona to tell you you were running late but you knew you had laps waiting for you when you actually got there. You arrived at the pitch hot, sweaty, and tired. This was not an ideal start to the morning.

It was a known ‘Alexia Rule’ that every minute late to practice without a reasonable excuse was a lap. As you arrived at the huddle, one boot on, one still in your hand and your shirt stained with coffee, you could tell she was unimpressed. With all your rushing, you had forgotten to think of an excuse. You didn’t want to tell her the real reason; you had a feeling ‘Oh, sorry Alexia, I’m late because my parents are really shitty, forget they have a kid sometimes, and they haven’t been home in over a week, and the food in the fridge looked a little funky’ would not go down too well. She arched an eyebrow at you.

“Um …” You floundered, thinking about what to say. You could tell her the semi-truth that the metro was delayed and you had missed the buses, but they thought you got dropped off at the top of the road by your dad on the way to work. You could tell them there was traffic, but they all drove, so they knew you were lying.

“You have 30 laps to run at the end of training,” Alexia had a stern voice that you knew meant she was serious. 30 laps? That was basically 10k. Your eyes widened to comically sized proportions. 45 minutes of running around in a circle … after training? She was trying to kill you; you were convinced of it.

“You can’t be serious?” You gawked at her. Her other eyebrow rose to join the other one.

“Deadly.” She said icily and walked away.

Holy fuck. You were really, royally fucked this time. You were so dead. You had to miss training. But again, it hadn’t been your fault. The boiler had broken in your house, which wasn’t a big deal – it was late spring in Barcelona, and you didn’t need heating. But you did need the hot water. You had tried to ask your parents to stay home whilst someone fixed it, knowing that you had training and they could definitely work from home for a day. They had dismissed you with a flippant wave of their hands and continued what they were doing. You phoned the company, asking them to come and fix it as soon as possible. But, as expected, they told you they would be there before lunch, which was the best they could offer. It was now 2.30pm, and there was no sign of them. You had texted Jona this morning, offering a weak excuse of feeling a little rough. You hadn’t expected him to tell Alexia that you were feeling bad, and it sounded like you were home alone.

The knock on the door had you running towards it – thinking it was the person coming to fix the boiler. “Gracias, Gracias. Es el …” You rushed the explanation, not realising that it was not a plumber but rather your irate captain. You froze as you looked up. Shit.

“You look fine, neña. You don’t look like you’ve … what was it? Ah, yes, ‘picked up a little something’.” She was far too calm. You could see her anger bubbling under the surface, though.

“Ale, I-” you tried to explain.

“No, no quiero escucharlo,” she cut you off, a hand raising to stop you. “You lied. You skipped training. Was it worth it? Was it so much more important than training?” She hadn’t bothered to come into the house, standing at your front door, a bag of things meant to help you feel better in her hand. “Here,” she shoved it at you. “You’re on the bench until you can prove that you want to be a part of Barcelona Femeni.” And with that, she stormed off.

Tears welled in your eyes. She hadn’t let you explain … but what could you say? ‘Sorry, Ale, my parents are arseholes and don’t realise that I have a life and a job as well’? ‘Sorry, Ale, I had to wait for the plumber to come and fix our heating and hot water, and no, my parents – the adults in the house – couldn’t do it because they think their time is so much more important than mine’? ‘Sorry, Ale, I’m currently trying to raise myself, and whilst I’m usually ok at it, sometimes I fuck up’? You couldn’t say those things to her. You couldn’t tell her how tough your life could be sometimes … most of the time. You couldn’t tell her that your parents don’t even know you have a game, let alone watch it or attend it. You couldn’t tell her you often wake up in an empty house for weeks because your parents jetted off somewhere again. You couldn’t tell her that you doubt your parents could even tell you your full name and birthday.

She thought you didn’t want to be a part of Barca. Barca was your saving grace. Barca was the only thing that got you out of bed. The friendships you made were the closest thing to a normal family you had. Jana, Vicky, Martina, Patri, Claudia, Bruna, Esmee, Salma … they were your crazy cousins, always making you laugh and willing to go along with your mad ideas. Ona, Aitana, Lucy, Cata, Mapi … they were your big sisters, always protecting you on and off the pitch and lightly teasing you. Ingrid, Caro, Keira, Mariona, Frido … they were the calming aunts that helped you through any predicament. Marta, Paños, Irene … Alexia … they were your motherly figures, the people you could always rely on to love you regardless of what else was happening in your life. Did they think you didn’t want to be there? Barcelona was the single most greatest thing that had ever happened to you.

You looked at the bag Alexia had shoved at you. It was full of healthy smoothies, nutritious snacks, and your favourite chocolates. You could even see a soft teddy instructing you to ‘Get Well Soon’. It made you sob even harder. Eventually, you moved to the sofa. Once you started crying, you couldn’t stop. You cried over everything – disappointing Alexia, having no hot water, being benched, your parents' dislike of you, your seeming lack of support system, how you appeared to fuck up the one good thing in your life. You cried yourself to sleep on the sofa, clutching the bag to your chest and feeling so incredibly sorry for both you and the girls you had failed.

The next morning, you looked horrific – puffy, red eyes, dishevelled hair, blotchy skin. You didn’t even try to hide it as you made your way to the bus stop, ignoring the weird looks thrown your way. You were in a daze as you walked through the metro system and onto the second bus, forgetting to hurry down the side alleys instead of the main road. You didn’t see Ingrid’s car as it drove past you, a concerned Mapi, Ingrid, Ona, and Lucy in it.

“Era que?” Mapi asked, pointing over her shoulder.

“Y/N? Sí, fue” Ona nodded.

“Why, though? She said she gets dropped off by her dad on his way to work.” Ingrid was just as perplexed. You seemed to know exactly where you were going and had stepped off the bus with an ease only known to someone who took the same route every day.

“Maybe it was a one-off? He couldn’t take her today, so she had to get the bus? Although I don’t know why she wouldn’t just ask one of us – she lives on most of our routes to work.” Lucy pondered, all of them confused over you.

“Hey,” Ingrid said as you walked into the changing rooms. You didn’t even smile at her, just nodding and moving to your cubby. “Um … so, how come you were on the bus?” You froze. How did she know you got the bus?

“It’s just that we saw you as we were driving in. If you needed a lift, you could’ve just asked; you know we’d all be more than happy to —” Ona explained.

“Yeh, my d-dad only told me this morning that he couldn’t take me the whole way, so … he dropped me off near the metro, and I just got the bus from there,” you lied, rushing to gather your boots and head to the pitch. It was a blatant lie. Your voice was too high, and your hands shook slightly as you tried to devise a realistic excuse.

“Todas sabemos que era una mentira, verdad?” Mapi looked around as the door swung shut.

The following month in training was awkward, to say the least. After your slip-up with the bus, you made sure to take the earlier trains, getting to training before most people had even left their beds. You figured you’d use the time to prove to Alexia and the others that you wanted to be there. You were still benched, but your name was still on the game day sheet, so you liked to believe they weren’t thinking of selling you or cancelling your contract after the season ended. The issue was getting home. If you stayed late, you were often questioned, but if you were seen walking out of the car park, you were also questioned. You really needed to learn how to drive ... quickly.

Eventually, Jona could no longer justify you sitting on the bench. Barca had the Champions League semi-finals coming up, and everyone noted your absence on the pitch.

“Y/N, you will be playing the next match. You’re going to be a sub around 60 or 70 minutes.” It was a short announcement, but you couldn’t help your heart soar. Did this mean they finally believed you when you said that Barca was the best thing that happened to you? Alexia still hadn’t looked at you since That Day, but she was no longer actively seething, which you took as a win. But now you would be playing in the home leg of the Champions League semi-finals. You were nervous, but not because of the match; you were on a 0 – 3 aggregate, and you were going to be playing at Camp Nou – it was an almost guaranteed win –but because you knew the team would be more suspicious of your lack of parents.

You decided to do what you always did – never look to the crowd, do a lap of the stadium for the fans, hurry back into the changing rooms, and slip away. Simple. Easy. You had been doing it all your life. But you hadn’t accounted for how attentive the team would be. They watched you wearily from a distance, concerned when you made no effort to look to the friends and family section during warm-ups or after the match when everyone usually went to see their loved ones. You stayed back, signing more things for fans, and then headed straight to the tunnel. After the celebration in the changing rooms, you gathered your things and disappeared before anyone could bring them up. You had mastered the art of vanishing like a ghost after matches.

But now it was the final. It was obviously an away game, but everyone’s family came. Even the coaching staff brought their loved ones. Not you, though. Your parents hadn’t known you’d left the country, let alone understood that you were playing in the most prestigious match in Europe for clubs. You were in the Starting XI, but you weren’t nervous. You knew you could win this match; this Champions title was yours for the taking. You didn’t realise that the fact that you had no family would be exposed the minute the final whistle went.

You played the full 90 minutes and an extra 5 for injury time. You were exhausted, but that didn’t matter as soon as the clock ran out. You had done it. Champions of Europe. The screams and shouts were so loud it hurt your ears, but you didn’t care. You felt unstoppable.

“Vamos, pequeña. Donde esta tu mamí? Quiero finalmente conocer a la mujer a la que debemos agradecer por regalarle al mundo contigo.” Mapi said as you sat on the grass, your medal around your neck.

“Más tarde. I just want to sit here and soak this all in.” You waved her away. She took you at your word but made meaningful eyes at Alexia, having an unspoken conversation as you moved away. Alexia watched as you leaned back, resting on your arms, legs outstretched, and eyes shut – head tilted to feel the sun on your skin. She waited for 10 minutes, watching you make no effort to see your family. It was the first thing she had done after the trophy celebration. She had run straight to her mother and sister, thanking them profusely for all their sacrifices and expressing so much gratitude towards them – throwing her sweaty body at them and tackling them into long, tight hugs.

“Do you want to see your family now?” It was the first non-football-related words she’d said to you in well over a month.

“No, I’m ok. I’ll see them later,” you dismissed her quickly.

“Do you know where they are? We could bring them down onto the pitch if you don’t want to stand up.” She wasn’t letting this go. She had an inkling that she hoped was wrong.

“It’s alright, Ale. Honestly. I’m fine sitting here, soaking this all up by myself.” You hadn’t opened your eyes, so you had assumed from the quietness she had moved away. “It’s not like you’d find them anyway,” you whispered as an unwanted tear escaped you.

“Qué quieres decir, cariño?” Your eyes snapped open, coming face to face with Alexia, Ona and Keira. You sat up, trying to hide your face.

“Oh, noth-”

“No me mientas. Dónde están tu mamí y papí?” Alexia asked sternly. You misunderstood her, thinking she was angry at you. You shook your head, refusing to answer.

“Neña, are your parents here?” Ona asked quietly, coming to sit next to you. You took a deep breath.

“No. They aren’t.”

“Do you want to phone them?” Keira suggested, hoping that it was just because they couldn’t take time away from work to attend in person. She also sat down, gesturing her phone to you as an invitation to use it. You took another deep breath.

“I don’t think they even know I had a football match, let alone a Champions League final.” Another tear slipped down your cheek. Alexia sat in front of you, reaching for your hands.

“Qué quieres decir?” She asked again, thumbs rubbing gently over the backs of your hands.

“My parents … I don’t really know how to say it,” you paused, Ona gently rubbing your back comfortingly. “My parents don’t really … parent?” You chuckled lightly.

“They don’t support you?” Keira asked, her hand resting on your knee.

“They don’t care enough. They leave for weeks on end without telling me. I get food and stuff like that on my own. I’m basically raising myself at this point. I don’t think they know I have a contract with Barca. I doubt they even know I play football. They just let me do whatever I wanted as long as I was out of the house, not causing trouble and quiet; they didn’t care. They’re lucky I haven’t turned into a criminal or something.” You tried to add a joke to lighten the mood.

“But you said you meet up with your parents after home matches,” Ona couldn’t imagine achieving half the things she did without her family supporting her from the sidelines.

“And you told us your dad drops you off every morning on the way to work,” Keira added, equally disbelieving – her parents were her biggest fans.

“Yeh, I lied. I just go home after matches. And I get the metro to training.”

“But training is nowhere near the metro, and you don’t live near a metro station either.” She still didn’t want to consider what you were saying to be true.

You explained, “I get a bus from mine to the metro and then a bus from the metro to training.”

“That’s why you were getting off the bus that day when we saw you,” Ona realised. She hadn’t trusted your story but had considered no other possibilities.

“That’s why you're late to training sometimes? Because of the buses and trains?” Alexia asked, her hands never leaving yours.

“Yeh.” You looked down, ashamed of your situation and lying to them.

“And that day when you missed training. You weren’t sick. What happened?”

“I … um … the boiler broke, so I had to wait for someone to come fix it. Which they never did, by the way. I had to phone some random company that massively overcharged me, and the water definitely doesn’t get as hot as it used to.” You babbled nervously. “It wasn’t because I don’t want to be at Barca. It’s the only thing that keeps me going, knowing that I have you guys looking out for me. It makes everything else seem not as bad,” you whispered, needing them to know just how important Barca was to you. You looked around. Patri and Pina tried to do the perfect chest bump as Jana and Bruna filmed. Lucy was chasing her niece and nephew. Ingrid and Mapi were with Ingrid’s parents, smiling widely as they talked. Marta and Caro were sat off to one side, talking quietly. You could see the others dotted around the stadium, talking to fans, speaking to parents, and enjoying the support.

“Cariño, I am so sorry,” Alexia implored. I shouted at you and benched you. I’m sorry I made you think I didn’t believe you took Barca seriously.”

“Why didn’t you tell us, neña?” Ona asked.

“We only want what’s best for you, kid,” Keira added.

“Um … I don’t really know. It doesn’t really matter. It’s been like this my whole life, so…”

“Cariño. It does matter. But we know now, and that’s all that matters, sí?” Alexia stood up, dragging you with her. “Let’s go see my family. Mi Mamí has been asking to meet you for ages. And before you say no, she already has plans for you to come round for dinner one night. Y en secreto, ella siempre quiso una tercera hija.” She said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as Ona took your hand.

“Oh, Eli will have to fight my Mama on that one, Ale. She always wanted a goal-scoring daughter.”

“Well, my mum says you are more than welcome to stay at her house if you ever visit the UK as long as you cook her paella.” Keira smiled.

Maybe your biological family was shite, but your found one certainly wasn't.

I hope you liked it <3

#barca femeni #barca femeni x reader #fc barcelona #woso blurbs #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso fanfics #woso fluff #woso oneshot #woso angst #woso #womens football #woso soccer

[etherealyoungk]

— ✦ sugar & spice | jeon wonwoo

PAIRING: bodyguard!wonwoo x celebrity!reader (fem!reader)

SUMMARY: it wasn’t your fault you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, however, the people had a lot to say about that, especially since your father a public figure. but when he’s falsely accused of taking bribes and money laundering, your whole life falls apart, and things start to get out of hand and dangerous. that’s when you meet wonwoo - the bodyguard who’s been assigned to stay by your side and protect you 24/7. the only problem? he was really cold, but also irresistibly attractive. it was going to be a task to try and befriend him, but who said you weren’t up for the challenge. 

THEMES: bodyguard au, mutual pining, slow burn

WARNINGS: use of curse words, mentions of anxiety, social anxiety, panic attack, crowds, fighting, violence, kissing, suggestive, just wonwoo being a whole heartthrob

WORDCOUNT: 29.2k

A/N: this fic was so self-indulgent oh my god. thank you to rania @wheeboo for feeding my delusions for this fic and proofreading it for me, ilysm <33 reblogs and feedback are always appreciated ^^ i would love to know your thoughts! enjoy reading ^^

full fic under the cut

“all right, class, that’s it for today. please come collect your mock test papers as you exit”, the professor announces and everyone starts talking, the room echoing with voices and movement as people get up, their feet shuffling as they stand in line to collect their papers from the front.

you come up in front and your professor gives you a smile as he hands yours back to you. “good job yn, near perfect score”, he says and you smile back. “thanks prof”, you tell, beaming as you take your paper and move. but you don’t miss the snide remark told by someone behind you and the few laughs that occur. but you ignore the comment and walk away.

you were used to people telling you that, people envying you and not in a nice way. you’d heard all kinds of things all your life. “bet they only got in because of her connections” or “they’re only top of the class because of they’re father’s influence” but all of those were very untrue. you were truly passionate about what you were studying and doing, but the people didn’t seem to think so. 

yes, you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, coming from a prestigious family with a lot of influence - your dad being a huge business tycoon, which made your family really rich and influential. but growing up, you wanted nothing more than to be not associated with him. your name was always tied with his - and you hated that. it never gave you the chance to be your own person, to have your own identity, which you craved for.

growing up only became harder when your mother passed away when you were still young. she was ill and there was nothing that could be done to save her, it had been too late. your moments and memories with her were limited considering you were only ten when she passed away, but still, everything you remembered about her you cherished, and you aimed to make her proud one day, proud of the person you’ve become. as a token from your mother, you had kept her ring and no, not her wedding ring, but another ring she wore. it was a dainty ring with a pretty pattern and you had always loved that ring as a child. so now you wore it, to remember her, to keep some part of her with you.

and of course, with growing up, the biggest struggle of all for you was making friends. when you were younger, you were actually good at making friends, you had plenty in fact. but as you grew up, you learned to see who was just befriending you for ulterior motives and whatnot, and you soon became good at filtering who you really became friends - close friends with. but in all those years, you only made two friends like that. they were the purest and sweetest souls ever - rania and skye. they were your best friends. they were your childhood friends and the only ones you opened up to and grew close to. while you still had a group of friends you interacted with on an everyday and casual basis, there wasn’t anyone you were close with besides them. there was also your current boyfriend - jaehyun. it was silly really, you had a crush on him for a while and soon the news spread from god knows where and one day he asked you out. you were so head over heels that you said yes of course, because which fool would turn down their crush? 

you're sitting across the table from your father, who’s busy talking to someone on the phone. it was a weekly thing that you had to have dinner at your father’s house.

"yes i want to see a sample of the product before we send it into manufacturing”, your father speaks to the person on the other line.

you stare down at your plate, moving your fork around as you listen to him speak. you and your father didn’t have the best relationship, it was rocky and messy, to say the least. ever since your mother passed away, you both drifted apart, your father focusing on the business and you just trying to get through the days as you tried to cope with the sudden loss. and you both somehow stayed like that, drifted apart. but that didn’t mean he was a bad guy. he still did nice things for you and you both had your moments, but it was strained. let's just say he wasn't the best father figure growing up.

you were used to having filler conversations about your life with your father like this. all he does is nod before he goes back to scrolling on his phone. half the time during your childhood and even now, you barely saw your father. he was always busy with work or attending meetings about god knows what. so that meant you were all alone in the big house which got lonely. that’s when you decided to move into a different house, have your own space and make it cosy too. at first, your father wasn’t too keen on the idea, but you were old enough now, in college too, so he agreed. so now you live alone in a house comfortable enough to make into your own little safe haven.

you unlock your front door, sliding into your house slippers as you trudge inside, discarding your bag on the couch as you open the fridge to grab a bottle of cold water to refresh yourself. today had been a long day. apart from studies, you also volunteered at a local cat shelter for rescues and the local public library. you enjoyed doing both things so you were more than happy to volunteer. they both had their perks 1) free cuddles and serotonin from all the kittens and cats 2) you could borrow as many books as you wanted so it was a win-win.

you were used to your father being on the news, he was a businessman after all, an influential man, someone important. but with all that came all the trolls, the hate and people who were obviously jealous and disliked him for no reason at all. all this in turn was also directed towards you. you were often called the silver spoon kid, nepo baby, or someone who’s life was handed to you on a silver platter. for the most of the time, you tried to ignore them, but of course as any normal human, it affected you. you hated it at times infact. you hated how people could concoct a ridiculous assumption about you based on nothing and it infuriated you. but you’d learn to grow up with it, grow up being watched, hounded at, judged at and trolled at. that was what you get for simply existing and being born in a wealthy family. and somewhere along the way you developed an anxiety about this and it made you scared to get close and open up to people. 

when you first joined college, it was hell. people took pictures without your consent all the time and they still did at times, but you’ve given up at trying to stop it. you were used to people's cameras at you, fingers at you, talking about you and also using you. everyone wanted to be your friend and butter you up to you, but when you started putting boundaries, they were quick to call you names. you were surrounded by paparazzi going to you during the first week and even now on the occasional basis, someone was always following you and snapping pictures of you. even if you told yourself it was okay, it was not and deep down you hated it. but what could you do? 

your father, well he didn’t seem to mind all the comments being told about him, as long as his business went well at the end of the day. but if you were going to be honest, your father was pretty smart and he had a knack for what he was doing, that’s what made him so successful. but that didn’t mean he didn’t hit bumps along the way, oh he did. you still remember the headline your father made when he invested money into a broken startup. but now he was making millions as the company took off. 

today morning was a good day. the sun was shining bright and the clouds were white against the blue sky. it wasn’t too hot, a comfortable temperature - it was the ideal day and you were more than happy about this weather. you get ready for college, it was your last semester before you graduated. you grab your phone from the desk table only to realise it was dead and you plug it in as you head to the bathroom to get ready. you quickly put on an outfit, grab your books, bag, and your phone on the way out. you lock your door and raise your hand to unlock your car, opening the door and sitting inside. you drive to college, putting on some music, in a good mood today as you softly sing along to the song that was playing on the radio.

you park your car in the parking lot, which was already crowded and you mentally cursed at the way people parked sometimes. you exit the car and walk towards campus, trying to unlock your phone but it doesn't open. that’s when you realise it was still dead - silly you had forgot to turn on the switch when you plugged your phone in. you mentally curse as you walk towards class, hoping someone had a spare phone charger for you to use. but that’s when you get a feeling - a feeling that you were being watched. and when you glance up, you can see people looking at you, whispering things in hushed voices between themselves. you brushed it off as nothing and continued walking.

a couple of people pass by you, looking right at you as they pass a comment. “see i knew your father was a crooked man”, he tells and the others laugh as they walk away. what? you were completely confused and the fact that almost everyone was looking at you as you kept walking made you nervous all of a sudden. this wasn’t good. you spot your professor and he comes walking towards you, in big strides, like he is in a hurry. “hello yn”, he says, faking a smile. “hello professor”, you reply. “i would like to have a word with you, please follow me”. he says and you can still feel everyone’s eyes on you as you walk behind your professor.

he closes the door behind him and urges you to sit down as he takes a seat in front of you.

“i’m sorry to hear about your father yn”, he starts and you furrow your brows, utterly confused. “i would like for you to meet with the principal so we can hopefully come to an understanding about how you will be completing your semester over here”, he continues and you’re lost.

“i’m sorry but i don’t quite follow”, you say, and he just blinks back at you. 

“do you not know? have you not seen the news?”, he asks, surprised. 

“what news?”, you ask again and watch as he fetches out his phone, handing it to you. and there it was, the headline that made your jaw drop.

“mr. __ a certified criminal, took bribes and laundered money”. 

what the fuck? your eyes quickly scan the article, reading the things your father was being accused of. there was no way he would do that, he wouldn't you thought. you look back up at your professor and hand the phone back to him, at a complete loss for words.

“i really had no idea about this”, you tell. “i think it would be better for you to go home today and then we can have a talk about this later this week along with the principal okay”, he says and you’re dismissed. you take a deep breath as you open the door and walk out, and hallway is quick to quiet down and you can feel the eyes of everyone on you. 

“hope your father rots in jail”, you hear a guy say and the others laugh. you hear a few more snide remarks as you walk out back to your car and you take a deep breath again. what the fuck was happening right now. you start the car and drive to your father’s house because you need answers.

you storm into the house, and your father is already sitting down at the table with his lawyer. “can someone please explain what is going on”, you yell as soon as you see your father. 

“yn” , your father says, upon seeing you. 

“you took bribes??”, you ask and you can see the small flash of hurt on his face before he composes himself as he answers you. “no yn, this is simply not true. i am being falsely accused”, he says calmly.

“so what’s going to happen now?”, you ask.

“this is defamation, there is absolutely no evidence to these claims”, your father fills in.

a week passes by and you somehow manage to make it to class, but obviously, everyone is still talking about you. rumors are goingand around like wildfire and people keep telling you nasty things, leaving you mean comments on your social media. even the paparazzi around you are following you everywhere suddenly and you hate this. your whole world was turning upside down and you find yourself driving to your father’s house that evening again, only to see people crowded around the house. puzzled, you get out of your car and you're immediately surrounded by the paparazzi and a hound of people as they recognise you. you see your father in the crowd and that’s when you notice the police officers and then the handcuff on your father’s hands.

“father!”, you yell out and he looks at you. you try to move forward, make your way towards him but someone pushes you down before someone else grabs your hand. “you little thief, no wonder you’re so rich”, he mutters out and you try to pry his hand off you but he doesn’t let go. “yn!” you hear your father yell and soon the police pry the man off you. you watch as your father is escorted into the police vehicle he’s driven off. 

the camera flashes continue and people keep yelling nasty things and you run towards your car, getting in and following the police car. at the police station, you get a chance to talk to your father with his lawyer present. 

“what is happening?”, you ask. “i thought you said this was a false accusation, why are you being arrested?”, you ask, looking between your father and his lawyer, jeonghan who was a competent man in his line of business.

“it seems there has been some evidence found", your father says, in a rather relaxed manner. 

“so what’s going to happen now?”, you ask, worried.

“i will have to stand trial and prove my innocence”, he adds. you see as he glances down at your wrist which you’re massaging gently. 

“are you okay, i saw what happened back there’, he adds. 

“y-yeah im okay”, you tell quickly. 

“no, this is not okay. you’re going to be affected by all the things happening now and things are getting dangerous and out of hand”, he tells. 

“i can manage”, you say.

“no, you cannot, things will only get worse from here, especially when the trial starts and they are all going to be taking their anger out on you. i cannot risk anything happening to you. so it’s decided”, your father says.

“what’s decided?”, you ask.

“you’ll be having a bodyguard with you 24/7 from now onwards”, your father adds.

“what? father there is no need-", you start before you're interrupted.

“yn listen to your father, he is right” jeonghan interjects and you sigh. there was no point arguing over here. in hindsight, things were bound to get out of control and having a bodyguard around did seem wise. the thought that something worse could happen to you makes you shiver.

“hire only the best”, my father tells and jeonghan nods. “i know just the person” he tells, assuring my father. 

you didn’t step out of your house the next day. paparazzi surrounded your home and you were in no ability to go out without being followed. the pictures of your father’s arrest and your face were plastered all over the internet and new articles, with all sorts of headlines. by 12pm everyone seemed to have gotten tired of waiting (thank god) and your driveway was finally clear. you’re in jeans and a top, rummaging through your pantry when you hear your doorbell ring. you immediately stand straight. who could this be?

you walk towards your door and peek through the peephole but you can only see the body of someone and you hear a voice you recognise. your father’s lawyer - jeonghan, so you open the door. 

“i didn’t know you were coming”, you tell and smile. “i texted you”, he adds. “must've missed it”, you add before glancing at the other man standing next to him, who you noticed was quite tall.

“please come in “, you add only for jeonghan to refuse. “no no, i must get going to prepare for your father’s case. i just came to introduce you to your bodyguard”, he explains. 

“oh, i see”, you tell softly. 

“he’ll be with you wherever you’re going. escort and protect you wherever you’re going. i’ve already briefed him and given him a copy of your schedules, but if you’re going anywhere, he is to accompany you”, he tells you, making sure you knew, like he knew you would try to sneak off. 

“yes yes alright”, you tell, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“well, get introduced then, i have to get going”, he tells, as his phone rings and he walks off, leaving you standing in front of the door with this mysterious man.

as you look at him, you realise how tall he was because wow, he was really tall, and really handsome. he towered over you easily as you looked up at him. he’s wearing a clean, crisp black suit, which has been tailored to his body, making the fit perfect, showing off his build and his hair was styled to expose his forehead. his foxy-like eyes hold a mysterious but focused gaze. damn, he was hot. your eyes sweep over his body one more time before he’s clearing his throat and you're shaken away from your thoughts.

“hello, im jeon wonwoo and i'll be your bodyguard from today”, he tells, his voice deep as he looks at you, his alluring gaze catching your attention.

“hi! i’m yn! nice to meet you”, you say a little too enthusiastically as you hold out your hand for a handshake. you’re already cringing at your actions but wonwoo reaches out and shakes your hand nonetheless and gives you a small nod. 

after that there is a moment of awkward silence before you speak again. “um i don’t think i’ll be going anywhere today so you can start tomorrow”, you tell. you didn’t want him to be waiting around unnecessarily. he just looks down at you.

“i have been assigned to stay by your side at all times”, he tells. “but i’m just going to be home”, you tell. “it’s fine uh - i can call you wonwoo right?”, you ask and he gives you a curt yes.

“right wonwoo, it’s all right, just clock off work, it’s fine for today”, you tell and he looks like he’s thinking before he speaks again. 

“if you insist”, is all he says before he gives you a small nod of acknowledgement, telling you he’ll be here tomorrow before he’s turning around and walking off. 

the next morning, you’re sleeping peacefully when you hear your doorbell ring. who was at your doorstep so early? you must be hearing things you think. after a few moments you hear your doorbell ring again and you groan as you let out a yawn, unwillingly getting out of bed as you drag your feet to the door, your eyes barely open, still laced with sleep. you open the door to see a tall figure in front of you, your eyes still unfocused and you're confused before you hear the voice.

“good morning”, he tells and you blink your eyes a couple of times before you realise who it was. 

“oh wonwoo hi”, you tell, trying to process this information. “it’s only uh-”  “7am”, he fills in.

“right, 7am”, you tell, yawning again. “why are you here so early?”, you ask and your eyes a bit more awake now to take in the sight in front of you. wonwoo was adorned in another crisp suit, his hair perfectly styled and you could smell the waft of his cologne as you stood.

“my working hours start from 7am”, he tells matter of factly. “right, uh okay just come in”, you tell, moving inside, not bothering to see if he was following you. you go back to your room to fetch your phone, seeing an email from your professor. they wanted to have a meeting with the principal - well this couldn’t be good. 

the entire time you’re getting ready, wonwoo is just standing in one corner of your hall. you told him he could sit but he insisted on standing so you just shrug your shoulders and let it go. you don’t have the time to eat breakfast and you lock your house door, about to get in the car when wonwoo speaks again. 

“i’ll drive”, he tells, holding his hand out for the key. 

“oh no, it’s fine i can manage”, you tell.

“i’ve been told to drive you wherever you need”, he adds, looking at you and he had the look of someone you did not want to interfere in his work with.

there was no point arguing with this man was there? you sigh, handing him the key and sitting in the front seat next to him because sitting in the complete back would  make you feel weird. wonwoo somehow knew the route to your college and he parks the car effortlessly in the parking lot, which is honestly impressive. (or you just had bad parking skills shh)

you see the crowd as you step out, and through all the people and you can even spot a few paparazzi if you looked carefully. you glance back at wonwoo and then the campus entrance. if you went with wonwoo, you were definitely going to get attention - unwanted attention that is. he was obviously going to stand out in that outfit of his. 

“just stay here, i’ll be back, it’ll be quick”, you say.

“i'm afraid i can’t do that, i’m assingned to accompany you wherever you go as your bodyguard”, he says, looking at you.

“i know, but i’ll be quick, nothing will happen”, you add as you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“i will be accompanying you”, he responds. even with all those looks he was really dense huh, it was like talking to a wall.

“fine god just come”, you finally tell, slightly annoyed. jeonghan really got you a tough bodyguard didn't he.

as soon as you step foot on campus, everyone’s head turns towards you and obviously everyone is whispering something about the man following behind you - wonwoo. you mentally curse as the crowd around you becomes larger as you walk, everyone stopping to see what was going on. wonwoo is quick to maintain an arm’s distance outside as he walks beside you and making sure people don't surround you. you try to look down as you just walk ahead, straight into the principal's office. wonwoo stands outside. 

“yn glad you could make it”, your professor says, as the principal sits beside, just giving you a small nod. 

“what did we need to talk about”, you ask, looking between your principal and professor.

you watch as your principal sits up straighter, interlocking his palms on the table before they speak. 

“i know you just have a semester left before you graduate”, he starts off. “but given the current situation, it would be hard for us to continue classes with you being present”, he adds.

“i could do online classes”, you suggest but you principle just shakes his head.

“yn, we acknowledge the effort and dedication you have demonstrated throughout your academic journey at our institution. your accomplishments have been commendable, and we recognize the hard work you have put into your studies”, he starts. “we really do yn”, your professor adds.

“but we have to bring attention to a significant concern that has risen due to recent incidents involving you and a related controversy”, your principal continues.

oh god, where was this conversation going. you’re about to open your mouth to speak when your principle starts talking again. 

“the college has carefully assessed the situation and after thorough consideration, it has been determined that unfortunately, you will be unable to graduate at this time. this decision is a result of the impact of the controversy on the overall reputation and values of the institution”, he finishes and it takes you two seconds to fully understand the situation and what was exactly going on right now.

“what?”, you let out, shocked. “we know this might be sudden but we are-”, 

“no no, this is not fair, you can’t do this”, you interject. 

“it is fair, considering the reputation of our institution is on the line”, he adds. 

“excuse me?”, you scoff. “i'm in no way related to what is going on right now”, you add.

“it is involving your father”, he says. “exactly, my father, not me. so i do not see why you would have to go to this extreme”, you tell, not letting this go lightly.

“yn”, your professor says in a warning tone.

“four years. four years of my life i’ve spent studying and working hard and you’re just gonna throw that all away and not let me graduate over a controversy? over something that is not true let me tell you that”, you tell, upset. “that’s not right and not fair”, you add. “letting me graduate is the least you can do, it’s only a semester come on”, you plead. 

“the decision is final”, your principal tells. 

“what no, you can let me take the semester later, i can still graduate then”, you suggest, trying to be hopeful but the air in the room was tense.

“yn thank you for your time and we wish you all the luck in your future”, you principal tells, completely dismissing you. 

“you can’t do this, you’ll be hearing from me remember that”, you tell, standing up and pulling the door open, walking out. the hallways are thankfully relatively empty because it’s class hours and everyone was in the lecture halls or study rooms. but as you turn you bump into jaehyun. 

“jaehyun hi!”, you tell as you approach him. “i'm so sorry i haven’t been able to text you, i’ve been so occupied”, you tell as jaehyun barely looks at you as you speak, checking his phone, texting someone else. 

“i’m free this week though so i thought we could go out to dinner or something”, you suggest, hoping that maybe a date would help you get your mind off things.

“yeah i’m not sure about that”, he tells. “oh are you busy? we can-”

“listen yn, considering everything going on right now, i wouldn’t want to be seen with you”, he tells and you’re hurt by his words. 

“but i don’t see how that matters if you like me”, you tell, trying to hold it together. 

jaehyun only lets out a small laugh. “like you? i only dated you because you were rich, was a nice thing to boast about until your dad had to be revealed as a thief”, he tells, mocking you and his words sting.

“that’s not true”, you tell. “i hope he rots in jail”, he adds, before leaving, having completely trampled over your heart and feelings. 

you’ve completely forgotten about wonwoo and it’s only when you turn around that you see him, a few paces behind you and no doubt he heard everything, just great. you bite the inside of your cheek as you look down, walking ahead and walking straight to the car, embarrassed but also upset. you get in the car, not bothering for wonwoo to open the door for you and sit inside, tears welling in your eyes. wonwoo stands outside like he’s unsure, giving you a moment of privacy before you’re rolling down the window and telling him to drive you home.

the car ride is quiet and you’re just looking out the window the entire time, trying not to cry. it wasn't fair. any of this wasn’t fair. you just wanted to curl up and hide right now. you can feel your stomach rumbling, protesting for not being given breakfast and you sigh, putting a hand on your stomach. now that you were aware, you were actually really hungry. you had half the mind to stop somewhere and buy something but you didn’t want to deal with people right now. 

“did you eat breakfast?”, you ask wonwoo, feeling suffocated with the silence in the car. 

“not exactly, but i did eat something”, he informs. you nod your head, thinking of what else to ask him.

“so how come you chose this bodyguard business”, you ask, glancing over at wonwoo.

“it suits me, i’m good at it”, he replies, giving you a short answer. 

“right, i see”. 

a few more seconds of silence follows before wonwoo speaks. “are you okay?”, he asks, his eyes still trained on the road ahead of him. his question takes you aback. it had been ages since someone asked you that. are you okay? those three words that had the capability of making you rethink your life and look into yourself. were you okay? no, not really. life sucked right now and you wanted nothing more than to just curl up in bed and cry. 

“i-i don’t know”, you answer, letting out a sigh as your fingers play with your mother's ring on your hand, something you did when you were anxious or lost in thought. 

“i’m used to it, it’s fine”, you add quickly.

after a few more minutes, wonwoo is pulling up into your driveway and he parks the car, getting out. you don’t know how this man managed to walk so fast because just as you’re about to turn your body to open the door, wonwoo is already there, holding the car door open for you. 

“oh um thank you”, you tell softly as you get out. 

you realized it was going to take you a while to break into wonwoo’s wall and befriend him. it looked like he was going to be with you for a while, until the trial was over atleast so might as well become friends. he did prove to be a hell though, it was like talking to a robot, but who said you weren’t up for the challenge?

it’s a new week and wonwoo is driving you to the cat shelter since it’s your day to volunteer today. atleast during all these sudden changes in your life, this was a constant. it felt comforting in a way. the animal shelter was run by a sweet lady who also adored you. coming here always made you feel better, no matter how shitty your day had been. 

you enter the shelter and immediately all the cats recognise your scent and meow, as if they were welcoming you. the owner comes out to see what the commotion was about and smiles upon seeing you.

“yn! it’s so nice to see you”, she greets, pulling you in for a hug. 

“it’s good to be back”, you tell. 

“who’s this mystery man”, she asks, referring to wonwoo.

“my bodyguard. with everything happening and the trial and all, things are getting out of hand ”, you explain and she nods. “quite the catch isn’t he”, she says, teasing you and you chuckle.

“i'm so sorry to hear about all this though, just know i’m here for you”, she tells. 

“thank you”, you tell, grateful.

“well you carry on, i just need to finish writing these invoices and i’ll join you”, she adds, walking back to the office room and you’re left alone with all the cats.

“hello fluffy”, you tell, looking down to the cat who’s brushing against your legs, 

wonwoo stands at the side of the room like he’s been punished even though you again insist that he can sit down but he insists on standing. you sigh, whatever suited him. you turn your attention back to the cats surrounding you and start your duties. 

you had to clean their litter, feed them and make sure the ones who were on medication were given the medicine. after you’re done cleaning the litter, you realise you need to open a new bag of litter, the only problem? it was 15kgs heavy and in no way were you capable of lifting that huge bag to the litterbox area. you go back to the front and wonwoo is still standing, his hands neatly folded in front of him as he just stares at the wall. he really needs to relax you thought. you walk up to him, hands on your hip.

“i need your help, come here”, you ask and you hear the shuffle of wonwoo’s feet behind you as you walk. 

“can you help me lift this?”, you ask, holding one end of the bag. wonwoo doesn’t say a word as he holds the bag and lifts it himself effortlessly and carries it to where you want it. damn, he was strong. 

you fill up the box with new litter, washing your hands and come back to the front. 

“i have a surprise for you”, you hear the owner say and she walks towards one of the boxes covered by a cloth. she uncovers it and a second later you hear a high pitched meow, followed by another and another. 

“oh my god”, you squeal. “poe littered! i completely forgot she was due”, you tell, looking as she brings the box down and the kittens overflow out of the box in a frenzy, climbing out of the box and making their way towards you with their wobbly but determined feet. you bend down to see them and they’re adorable. you watch as the battalion of kittens make their way to wonwoo, climbing on his shoes and meowing up at him, ambushing him practically.

you giggle as one cheeky kitten even climbs up wonwoo’s suit and all the way to his shoulder, sitting there perched while wonwoo just stands there, completely ignoring the fact that he was being attacked by vicious kittens right now. 

“you should adopt that one, it likes you”, you tell as you hold a kitten in your hands, referring to the one sitting perched on his shoulder. 

“i already have a cat at home”, he tells and this piece of information makes you raise your brows in surprise.

“really? you have a cat”, you ask in surprise. “i do”, he answers quietly.

“oh my god, show me a picture”, you ask.

wonwoo only blinks at you. “i refrain from using my phone during work hours”, he tells smoothly and you roll your eyes. 

“come on wonwoo, don’t be like that. it’s fine, just show me”, you ask again. “please?”, you add and wonwoo looks at you for a few more seconds before he’s moving his hand to remove his phone from his jacket pocket. the kitten on his shoulder makes a move, almost about to fall but wonwoo is quick to catch it and it’s now sitting in the palm of his hand, as he operates his phone with the other hand. he turns his phone towards you, revealing the picture of his cat. 

“her name is oreo”, he tells.

“aww she’s so pretty and so cute!!”, you exclaim. wonwoo’s cat was gorgeous actually. she was a black cat with white paws, white whiskers and a patch of white on her neck and chest. 

“she’s a rescue too”, he adds, and that little piece of information lifts your heart. 

“that’s nice. her little white paws are adorable oh my gosh”, you tell as you smile up at wonwoo. “they’re like little socks”, you say, chuckling at yourself as you hand his phone back to him. you notice how the kitten in his hand was busy chewing the end of his tie. if you looked carefully, you could see the faintest hint of a smile on his lips right now as he watched the kitten playing in his hands. how cute.

wonwoo drives you back home after you finish all your duties at the shelter and you get a text from jeonghan about your father’s trial. the first trial was set for next week. 

you're just at home and you’re certainly not used to the intrusion to your sleep at 7am every day now when wonwoo comes to work to start his duties. you told him to stay at home and you’d call him if you needed him but no, he didn’t listen. so here he was at 7am on the dot everyday at your doorstep. you yawn as you open the door, mumbling something to wonwoo about changing his work timings to 9am instead. 

you’re brushing your teeth, walking around the room and you can see wonwoo standing as usual. you wash your face and head towards the kitchen. you needed coffee now. you glance towards wonwoo occasionally because honestly, even if he was just standing there, he looked so….effortlessly handsome. oh my god. you should not be having these thoughts right now. it was too early for this. you really needed some coffee to get your head straight.

“do you want some coffee?”, you ask wonwoo as you look at him.

“i’m good, thank you”, he says. of course he was going to say that.

“how do you like your coffee?”, you prod him again. 

“black”, he says.

and of course he likes his coffee black. 

“well, i like a latte, ice or hot depending on my mood, sometimes with caramel sauce if i’m feeling fancy but otherwise mostly plain”, you tell, dumping this piece of information onto wonwoo as you struggle to open your coffee powder jar. you try again but it wasn’t budging. you try again this time, trying to concentrate all your strength onto your hand, but it didn’t work and it wasn’t opening. without a word, wonwoo comes forward and offers to open it. he takes the jar from your hands and opens it effortlessly in one shot, probably because of his super strength. you mumble out a thank you and instead of letting him go back to that sad corner beside the wall, you ask him to take a seat in front.

“wonwoo, you should know that you standing there at the side of the room like you’ve been punished is just extremely weird. please sit, i’m not gonna kill you, seriously, i’m a nice person”, you explain, your hand pointing to the stool that was on the left of him. “i would prefer-”, he starts. “no, i would prefer if you just sat please. you’re supposed to listen to whatever i say right”, you tell, looking at him with your hands crossed over your chest.

he doesn’t say anything but finally takes a seat and you do a little celebration inside your head. “see! that’s so much better”, you tell, already feeling at ease. 

you continue making your coffee and you’re halfway through making your coffee when you hear your doorbell ring. you glance at wonwoo before putting your mug down. but wonwoo gets up, telling you he’ll check who it was. 

“who are you?”, you hear wonwoo ask as he opens the door and you walk up to the door, curious. “who is it?”, you ask and when the person comes into view, you let out an excited squeal.

“RANIAA”, you exclaim, accidentally pushing wonwoo to the side as you pull rania inside, only to see skye behind them. “OH MY GOD”, you exclaim again, pulling rania into a hug and then skye. meanwhile wonwoo just stands in the corner of the cramped doorstep, regaining his balance from your not so subtle shove.

“what are you guys doing here”, you ask, once all the excitement has toned down and both rania and skye are seated on the couch. 

“we’ve been seeing the news and everything that’s been happening”, skye says.

“so we came to support you, it must be so hard right now”, rania adds. 

“aw you guys are really the best”, you tell. it had been years since you last saw them, both of them having moved to different countries. though you guys were separated by distance, you were still connected by your unhinged and chaotic group chat.

“by the way, who’s the handsome hunk over there”, rania asks, not so subtly. 

“rania jeez, he’s my bodyguard calm down”, you tell but you don’t miss the glint in their eyes. 

“is he single”, rania asks and you glare at them.

“stop it”, you tell and skye chuckles beside you.

“wait, weren’t you dating jaehyun?”, skye adds and your face falls. “yeah about that, he uh dumped me”, you tell and skye is quick to pull you in a reassuring embrace. 

“this is your sign to date that guy, shoot your shot before it’s too late bestie”, rania encourages, making you laugh. 

“enough about me, how are you guys? how’s seungkwan and soonyoung”, you ask, eager to know more about them. you watch as rania and skye exchange a glance between themselves before looking at you.

“they’re coming here tomorrow”, they tell in unison and you almost yell. “really?”, you ask, shocked but also excited. 

“they wanted to see you too so we dragged them along with us, but there was a goof up with the plane tickets and they had to rebook on a different flight”, skye explains. 

“it’s okay, we can all go out together tomorrow”, you tell and they smile. 

rania and skye end up going back at the end of the day and poor wonwoo had to witness you three maybe talk a little too much. you were sure he was glad when he clocked off work, beyond relieved he didn’t have to hear you all chatter anymore. even though you told him he could leave early, that you were going to just be home, he again didn't listen to you, saying that he would stay, saying something about upholding his duty. rania bombarded him with too many questions and you were sure he was going to get more from seungkwan and soonyoung tomorrow, poor guy. 

the next day you’re excited to see your besties again and wonwoo is yet again standing near the wall like he’s a statue. you’ve given up at this point really. before they arrived, you briefed wonwoo on being nice to them, especially to seungkwan and soonyoung, who were probably going to hound him with questions again today. “don’t be mean to them if they ask you questions”, you tell, pointing a finger at wonwoo. “be nice to them okay?”, you tell, adding a little glare to make sure your point went across. 

you wear a simple yet cute outfit and before you know it, your house is filled with laughter and smiles as soonyoung and seungkwan greet you. 

“oh my god, it’s so nice to see you guys!”, you tell, excited as soonyoung and seungkwan smile back at you. “same here yn”, they tell. 

“we planned a little double date”, skye tells. “make it a triple date, you can ask wonwoo to join”, rania adds, winking at you and you roll your eyes at her.

“who is what”, seungkwan asks, finally noticing the other presence in the room.

“my bodyguard. given the current situation my father thought it would be best”, you explain. 

“woah he looks strong”, soonyoung adds and before you know it, both the boys make their way to wonwoo while you girls decide on where to go for your little double or well triple date.

“hello”, soonyoung says to wonwoo. wonwoo only responds with a small nod of his head, standing still. 

“how long have you been a bodyguard for?”, seungkwan asks.

wonwoo glances at seungkwan, looks him up and down before answering. “four years”, wonwoo tells. 

“woah! so how’d you become one? is there like a special training school for this?”, soonyoung asks, completely serious and utterly curious. 

“it’s a sub branch in the security industry”, is all wonwoo answers with. 

“can i ask you a question”, seungkwan asks, bringing his hand around wonwoo’s shoulder which wonwoo shrugs off in a second. 

“what do you think of yn?”, seungkwan adds, acting like he wasn’t just shrugged off by wonwoo.

“yn is my client”, wonwoo says, like he’s stating a fact.

“i know she’s your client dude but what do you think of her, you know?”, seungkwan adds, trying to knock some sense into wonwoo, who clearly didn’t have any romantic braincell.

“you should take her out on a date, cheer her up. i'm sure she feels bad about everything happening with her father and all”, seungkwan explains nicely.

“yeah!”, soonyoung adds. we’re going on a double date anyway, you can join us and it’ll become a triple date”, soonyoung adds with enthusiasm. 

wonwoo just stares at these two boys like they’re idiots before answering. “that’s not in my job description”, he tells.

seungkwan visibly gets annoyed. “man, you’re really dense you know”, he adds. “it’s gonna hurt your romantic life in the long run buddy”, seungkwan adds with a look. 

wonwoo doesn’t say anything and that was the last straw for seungkwan and he grabs soonyoung’s arm, both of them making their way to the couch where you were busy chatting.

“okay, so we’re getting sushi”, rania announces and everyone cheers. you guys headed to the sushi place, wonwoo, you, rania and skye in one car and seungkwan and soonyoung following behind in the car they rented. you reach the sushi place and you guys sit inside. it seemed like today was your lucky day because you didn’t see any paps around or didn’t anyone seem to recognise you. you all took a seat while wonwoo told you that he’d wait by the car. you asked him (while rania almost yelled at him to join us) but he was stern about staying by the car. you let him be because you didn’t want to inconvenience him at the end of the day. you weren’t going to cross his boundaries if he didn’t want to. you finish your sushi date and come home happy and satisfied.

later that week, you get to meet with jeonghan, your father’s lawyer, to see how things are going regarding your father’s trial. 

“so mr. jeon has been telling me you haven’t been going to college? i know things have been bad but missing classes in your last semester is not the thing to be doing”, jeonghan tells.

“he’s reporting to you now is he?”, you ask, your brow raised. “well i did hire him”, he adds.

“i’m not missing classes on purpose…it’s just that”, you start sighing. “they told me i can’t graduate because of everything happening and father’s controversy. something about damaging the institution’s reputation”, you tell and jeonghan sits up straighter.

“why didn’t you tell me anything before?”, jeonghan asks. 

“i was going to! but then it just slipped my mind, and i know you’ve been busy too”, you add, hoping to redeem yourself.

jeonghan gives you a knowing look. “yn this is no small matter, i will look into this and make sure you can graduate. this is a ridiculous thing to do”, he tells and you nod in approval. “thanks” , you tell and he nods.

“how are you finding your bodyguard?”, jeonghan asks and you already sigh.

“he’s so…i don’t know, he’s so good at what he does but also kinda intimidating. he barely speaks it feels like i’m talking to a wall half the time”, you tell, chuckling. “but he’s cute”, you add, that tiny detail making jeonghan laugh.

“i think it’ll take some time to befriend him but i’m on it”, you add and jeonghan gives you a look. “just don’t get too close”, he adds with a warning. 

you were at the library today, you needed an escape and books seemed like the perfect solace right now. you’re wearing a simple outfit, black jeans with a purple top and a jacket on top because somehow even though the sun was up, the air was chilly and windy. you’re busy arranging the books that have been borrowed back in their rightful places, already knowing which book and genre goes where. wonwoo follows you around silently while you’re aimlessly talking to him about each book you pick up and put back on the shelf, offering him information about it - if you had read it, if it was on your TBR, if it was good, bad or worth a read. wonwoo seemed to be listening to you keenly. you grab the next book, and start telling wonwoo about it.

“i read this book years ago and i still love it to this date, the characters were so funny. but if i’m being honest the guy in this book was kinda an ass”, you add, as you locate the book’s spot on the shelf that was all the way at the top. you went on your tiptoes to reach it, trying to place it but missed. “and now that i’m older, the girl in the book was also a bit stupid you know, like-” you continue, but you feel wonwoo come up behind you and see his hand reach out, taking the book from your outstretched arm and placing in on the shelf with ease. you turn around, looking up at wonwoo, who is now so close to you. 

“why do you think the character was stupid?”, he asks, looking at you curiously. you blink up at him before answering, your mind suddenly distracted as you try to form a coherent sentence. “you know like-it was young love and-uh and they did-some stupid things-that um-i only realised when i got older-”, you stutter out, a flustered mess as you continue to look up at wonwoo. he looked so pretty up close and you could smell his cologne, which only made you want to lean into his presence. you feel your cheeks heat up as you look at him, starting to get lost in his eyes, his gaze. the way he looked at you like nothing else mattered to him apart from you made your heart race. you could feel your heart thumping loudly against your chest as you opened your mouth to speak again but closed it as no words came out. you step to the side, trying to create some distance between wonwoo, but you end up tripping on the stool that was placed there, almost falling, but wonwoo is quick to catch you, his arms catching your waist as he pulls your body against his.

“watch where you step”, wonwoo says as he holds you, and you’re acutely aware of how his hands feel on your body, the way he holds you, strong but gentle. and the way he’s looking at you makes your mind seem to go blank and the faint feeling of butterflies erupts in your stomach. “t-thanks”, you quickly say before you straighten out and stand on your own. you quickly grab a book from the cart and turn around, trying to calm your over-excited heart as you pretend to walk ahead before wonwoo calls out for you. 

“isn’t the historical section that way?”, he asks and you look at the book in your hand. it was a historical book indeed. you huff out a breath and turn around, speed walking past wonwoo as you find the shelf and put the book back in place as you mutter to yourself about why wonwoo had to be so attentive, observant and stupidly attractive.

today is your father’s first trial and you were nervous,. even though jeonghan told you that you didn’t have to come, you wanted to. you knew your father needed your support right now, regardless of how rocky your relationship has been with him. so here you were in the car, nervous, while wonwoo was well, calm. but it was nice, having a calm energy near you, it sort of grounded you. 

you turn the corner to the court and god, it was crowded. people had surrounded the road and courthouse, media and paparazzi waiting to snap photos and cover the event. you realised how serious this was and what it would mean if your father was found guilty, shit.

you observed the crowd, ducking down in your seat a little, already feeling overwhelmed. you hated crowds, especially crowds like this. you knew it wasn’t the good type of crowd and the sense of dread was already pooling in your stomach. maybe you should just turn the car around and go home. your hand is anxiously playing with the ring on your finger and as the car pulls up to the entrance to the courthouse, you can hear the screams and yells of people and see the flashes of light go off as the media take photos. 

you gulp, anxious and the car comes to a halt. wonwoo swiftly gets down and he is quick to open your side of the car. it takes you a second to get out and the minute you get out, people surround you even more. If it wasn’t for the police barricade and wonwoo beside you, you were sure you’d have been trampled.

wonwoo is swift as he guides you inside, making sure no one touches you. he envelopes his other hand around your shoulder, but doesn’t touch you, having a gentleman’s hand while he guides you and you’re relieved once you step inside the building and the yells of people die down. you enter the trial room and take a seat. you spot your father and jeonghan and give them a small smile. your father - well he looked tired. you were just hoping jeonghan could get him through this because you don’t know what you were going to do otherwise.

the prosecution was really piling up all sorts of accusations against your father, but jeonghan was well prepared and defended whatever was coming up. firstly, according to what jeonghan had mentioned, there was no evidence or even if there was it could have been tampered with. the anonymous said person who was said to have tipped off the police with the evidence could not be trusted. jeonghan insisted that this person testify in court and that this anonymous person should be brought in for questioning. 

by the time the first trial is done, it’s already been four hours. the next trial would be held in a few days where witnesses will be brought forward to testify. but from the hush talks in the room after the court was adjourned, you could tell no one was really on your father's side. your father’s company stocks had dropped, brand deals were pulling out and things were obviously not in your father’s favour at all. you were going to try everything in your power to bring your father’s company back up again and prove to everyone that he was indeed innocent. because there’s no way he would have done those things, right?

as you manage to locate jeonghan, who sits down with you for a bit, he tells you about a message from your father. 

“you know the annual business charity club ball that your father attends every year right”, jeonghan says. “yeah”, you tell.

“well, obviously since you father cannot go this year, he’s asked you to go in his place”, jeonghan finishes and you give him a look.

“me? you know i hate that event”, you tell.

“but it’s been planned and it cannot be cancelled, not even in this situation. so, you’re going and it’s final. i will text you the location and date later. but please go, atleast for your father’s sake. he’s losing a lot of people right now so if you could try to restore people’s faith and trust in you and your father, it would be helpful”, jeonghan tells. 

“fine, i guess that’s the least i can do”, you tell as you look at jeonghan. “is he okay? he’ll be okay right?”, you ask and jeonghan nods. “he should be, i’m doing everything in my power to defend him”, jeonghan answers. 

you exit the meeting room with jeonghan and he takes off, saying he has to arrange some documents for the next trial. you weren’t able to meet your father because they didn’t allow you to right now which was a stupid rule. you walk out and you’re looking around for wonwoo but don't see him. and in your search for him, you make the mistake of walking towards the entrance, where the media people were. they spot you and in a second you’re surrounded, with people shoving cameras and mics in your face, bombarding you with questions, all talking over each other as you panic. you try to move but they follow you and soon, you’re being pushed outside and the people outside start yelling when they see you. someone shoves you and you lose your balance, almost falling as someone else grabs your left hand. you yelp out in pain as they yank your hand and just then you feel a figure come up behind you - wonwoo. his hand embraces your shoulder this time, as he holds out another hand to block people. you can feel the hand holding yours let go as wonwoo pries it off you and he pushes people back and people actually do move back because wonwoo meant business. he guides you to the car and you sit, finally away from the crowd. it’s only when you see wonwoo up front at the drivers seat that you realise you were sitting in the passenger seat behind. you didn’t mind though. wonwoo is swift to take a seat and you can feel him look at you through the rearview mirror. he doesn’t say anything, but starts the car and drives. 

by the time you get back home, it’s late, already hitting 10:30pm. it’s only when you are inside does wonwoo finally speak.

“it’s dangerous for you to go out alone”, he says, standing in front of you as you put you bag onto the countertop.

“i was looking for you but i couldn’t find you, i didn’t mean to wander off alone like that”, you try to explain. “it was all too sudden, i really didn’t know what to do”, you add. 

“just wait for me next time”, he asks,

“but where were you?”, you counter.

“i was at the east wing door, waiting for you to finish talking but when i looked inside, you weren’t there.

“oh, i think i exited from the door on the other side, that’s why”, you tell.

"if you don’t see me, call me next time, please”, he says and you nod in understanding. 

wonwoo’s eyes glance down to your hand, the slightest marks of a bruise visible. “is your hand okay?”, he asks, taking a step forward to examine it further. “yeah, it’s fine, it’s-”, you stop as you look at your hand, only to see it bare. your ring, it wasn’t there. you look down on the floor, thinking it must've fallen there but it’s not. your other hand caresses your empty hand where the ring used to be, hoping that it wasn’t really missing but you don’t feel it. you don’t feel the ring. you feel the panic start to set in as you realise what’s just happened. fuck. then it hits you, the courtroom. it must've been pulled off when your hand was grabbed. you had to go back there, you had to look for it.

“we have to go back”, you tell wonwoo, as you step forward, but wonwoo is quick to stop you. 

“yn, it’s late”, he tells sternly.

“no you don’t understand, i lost my ring, it must’ve fallen there, i need to find it”, you tell frantically and wonwoo doesn’t understand why you’ve become so worked up over a ring.

“it’s just a ring yn, you can get another one”, he tells and you snap your head up at him, visibly upset. just a ring? 

“it’s not just a ring wonwoo”, you tell, tears prickling in your eyes. “you wouldn’t understand, fuck, i have to-i have to find it”, you tell again but wonwoo’s hand is firm as he holds you back again. 

“yn”, he says. “no we need to go now”, you yell, pulling your arm loose from his grip “i’ll go myself”, you counter, trying to reach for the car keys on the counter but wonwoo pulls your hand away.

“yn we’ll go later alright”, he tells. “no no no we need to go now”, you yell again, a tear escaping your eyes, rolling down your cheeks slowly. your vision gets blurry and you move back, panic setting in. fuck how could you lose your mothers precious ring. 

“no no no, this can’t be happening”, you mumble. you try to feel for your ring again, hoping that it was all just a misunderstanding, but your finger was empty. you don’t hear wonwoo calling out to you as you ears start ringing and your eyes fill with tears again. “i’m such an idiot how could i lose it”, you tell yourself, beating yourself up over the incident.

wonwoo realised you were having a panic attack, and he also realised that what he said could have been triggering. “yn”, says, coming towards you and you feel the weight of his hands on your shoulders as he looks down at you and you look up at him, a few more tears rolling down your cheeks. “we’ll find your ring okay”, he says, his voice somehow grounding you back to reality. “i promise we’ll go back to find it, but not right now.”, he adds. another tear rolls down your cheek as you sniffle, looking up at wonwoo, feeling helpless. “we’ll find it right”, you ask, your voice barely a whisper. “we will”, he assures. 

wonwoo guides you to the couch and is quick to fetch you a glass of water. surprisingly, he takes a seat next to you, pushing the glass of water to you. you see him reach for something in his jacket pocket and then he reaches his hand out, offering it to you, his handkerchief. you gladly take the handkerchief and dab your cheeks dry, wiping your tears and sniffling as you try to calm down. wonwoo watches as you raise the glass to your lips and take a sip of water. there is silence between you both, unsure of what to say. you close your eyes for a few seconds, trying to gather yourself and your thoughts. 

“i’m sorry”, you mumble out, feeling bad at lashing out at wonwoo and maybe a little embarrassed about crying in front of him. you hated people seeing you cry.

“i should be sorry, it was insensitive of me to say that”, he says, as he watches you take another sip of water. you put the glass down, looking at your finger where your ring adorned it. 

“it was my mother’s ring”, you tell quietly after a few moments of silence. “after she passed away, it was the only token i had to remember her by”, you tell softly, lifting you head up to see wonwoo’s gaze soften as he looks at you. “it’s the only thing i have left of her”, you say, feeling yourself tear up again as you shift your gaze back down to your lap. you look back up at wonwoo and there’s something different about him, a softness in his gaze, his expression and language. “i’m sorry to hear about your mother”, he tells. you offer him a small smile. “it’s okay, i’ve come to terms with it, besides i was really young when it happened”, you add.

you glance at the clock on the wall, seeing the time and releasing that it was late, that it was past wonwoo’s working hours. “oh”, you say softly as your eyes glance at wonwoo and back to the clock. “i’m sorry if i held you back”, you say, referring to the time. wonwoo quickly checks the time on the wristwatch adorning his hand before he looks back up at you.

“i can stay, if you want me to”, he adds. “are you sure?”, you ask, unsure. he nods. “just another hour then”, you ask and he gives you a yes. deep down you were glad he was staying back. you didn’t think you could handle being alone right now, especially after what happened. 

there are a few more seconds of silence before wonwoo speaks, suggesting that you should eat dinner perhaps, considering you hadn’t really had a proper lunch either, being too anxious about your father’s trial. 

“i need a burger”, you tell after a few minutes of silence. “do you want me to place a delivery order for you?”, wonwoo asks. you shake your head. “no they don’t deliver, we’ll have to go there”, you tell and wonwoo looks unsure for a second. “it’s closeby, i’ll show you the way”, you tell, already standing up. 

you both get in the car and you show wonwoo the directions as he drives. you come by the place and park and you’re about to get out when wonwoo stops you. 

“wait, let me surf the area, see if anyone is there”, wonwoo tells, opening his door and stepping out. by anyone he meant the paparazzi of course. he walks ahead a bit, his eyes searching the area for anyone suspicious and that’s when you spot a girl sitting by the bench on the side looking at wonwoo. you knew what that look meant. wonwoo comes up by your window and you lower the glass, peeking out. you glance at the girl and then wonwoo, a laugh escaping your lips at your thoughts.

“what’s wrong?”, wonwoo asks, alert.

“that girl over there is totally checking you out”, you tell and wonwoo seems unfazed by this piece of information.

“i see three paparazzi, seems like they followed us. i suggest that you stay in the car and let me get you a takeaway”, wonwoo tells. 

“that girl is totally going to ask for your number”, you add and wonwoo blinks at you.

“she won’t”, he tells, dismissing your claims. 

“she totally will”, you counter and he raises a brow at you. 

“wanna make a bet”, you ask. “if you lose you have to buy me ice cream”, you tell. 

“what do you want me to get for you”, wonwoo asks, resting his hand on the car window. 

“get me the grilled burger with fries and extra sauce”, you tell, handing wonwoo your card. wonwoo takes it as you tell him not to forget the extra sauce, adding that he should get something for himself too.

after about ten minutes, wonwoo comes into sight and just as you predicted, the girl sitting on the bench stands up and engages in a conversation with wonwoo. however, it’s short lived and wonwoo is making his way towards your car and the dejected look on the girl’s face tells you everything you need to know. wonwoo gets in the driver’s seat with the bag of food, which smelled divine, tingling your senses already.

“she asked for you number didn’t she”, you tell, teasing him a little.

“she did not”, wonwoo tells and you fake gasp.

“she totally did, i read her lips”, you state and wonwoo shakes his head and gives in, amused.

“you owe me ice cream”, you state proudly, grinning at wonwoo.

“on what occasion?”, he asks.

“because you lost the bet”, you state.

“i remember making no such deal”, he tells, like he’s teasing you, as he hands you back your card.

“whatever, just know i’ll extort this ice cream out of you one day”, you tell as you reach for the bag food.

you eat your burger in joy, proud that wonwoo in fact did not forget the extra sauce. 

“did you not get anything?”, you ask, as you chew, looking at wonwoo.

“i will eat something at home, thank you for the concern”, he says. “don’t be like that!”, you tell, offering him a fry but he politely declines that too.

after you’ve devoured your burger and fries, you sigh content. “that was a good meal”, you tell, satisfied. “if only i could get a desert now”, you tell, implying to wonwoo.

“but i guess we should go, an hour is going to be up”, you tell. wonwoo steps out of the car and you’re about to ask him what he’s doing when he walks over to your side and opens the door for you.

“did you not want your ice cream?”, he asks and you look around before wonwoo tells you that the paps left. you smile and step out, happily walking up to the ice cream parlour that was right next to the burger joint. another hidden gem that served the best ice cream and sundaes.

you walk inside and sit in the corner booth all the way at the end. it gave you some privacy and was cozy. you don’t even glance at the menu before you’re telling wonwoo what you want. “a chocolate brownie fudge delight please”, you tell, grinning up at wonwoo who’s looking at you confused as he glances at the menu on the table, his eyes searching for the item you’ve just named.

“but that has two scoops of vanilla and two scoops of chocolate ice cream”, he tells. you only look at him, confused. “and a whole brownie with chocolate sauce and nuts”, he adds, like he’s questioning you.

“so?”, you ask.

“are you going to eat the whole thing?”, he asks and you scoff. 

“do not underestimate my ice cream eating abilities wonwoo”, you tell offended and just then the waitress comes, taking your order.

your sundae comes and you’re already smiling but when you take that first bite, it’s heaven and you sigh again, content with life right now. wonwoo looks at you like he’s still unsure that you can finish it. 

“do you want a bite? it’s really good”, you ask, pushing the bowl towards him. he politely declines again and you give him a look. 

“you know, you should live life more, because you only live once”, you tell, as you put another spoonful of ice cream in your mouth. “i mean of course if you’re allergic to nuts or lactose intolerant then that’s a totally different story, but otherwise if someone tells me that they don’t eat or don’t like ice cream, i wouldn’t trust them you know. because how can you not like ice cream? it’s like one of the best things to have been created. if you don’t like ice cream then there’s a serious problem”, you ramble on to wonwoo, who’s sitting opposite you, listening to you keenly.

“also you should really talk more, i feel like i’m talking to myself half the time because you never say anything or you're always finishing your sentences in two or five words”, you tell, oblivious to the fact there was chocolate sauce on the side of your lip. “we need to come to some sort of understanding because-”, you stop mid sentence as wonwoo’s hand reaches out to wipe the corner of your mouth gently. you stare at him for a couple of seconds before the weight of his actions hits you and you start coughing, flustered. wonwoo is quick to pour you a glass of water and offer it to you.

“are you okay?, he asks, looking worried and you nod. “y-yeah”, you respond, suddenly feeling shy. you eat another spoonful of the ice cream, looking down at the bowl as you chew, feeling your cheeks heat up and you glance back up at wonwoo, whose eyes are still trained on you, and he’s looking at you deeply like he’s trying to decipher what’s going on in your mind. the way he looked at you, god, it made you feel things.

“we’ll find my ring right”, you ask again as you take the last bite of your sundae. 

“i assure you that i will try my best to find it”, he replies. silence engulfs you both again.

“thank you for today”, you tell. “it was a nice distraction or change from the situation”, you tell, feeling grateful. you check the time on your phone and let out a small gasp at the time.

“oops, i guess i kept you for two hours instead of one”, you tell. “that’s not an issue”, he says. “if you ever need me, i’m always here”, he adds and somehow the way he says it feels soft, like this was his way of initiating friendship, telling you that he was indeed human and there was a sincerity in the way he said it. 

“thank you”, you say, giving him a genuine smile. wonwoo drops you off at home and then leaves, bidding you goodnight. you lay in bed, replaying the events of today in your head, thinking about wonwoo. even if he perhaps looked a bit cold and indifferent, he was actually really sweet, quiet, soft and gentle. you feel a blush creep up your cheeks as you think about what he did earlier and you turn over, burying your face into the pillow, letting out an annoyed groan as you kick your feet in the air.

you don’t sleep well that night, your mind wandering to your mother’s ring and all your thoughts filled with finding it. you would find it right? you wake up at an ungodly hour and still restless before falling asleep in the early hours of the morning. when you wake up, you sleepily walk out and see a cup of takeaway coffee from your favourite cafe waiting for you. you glance at wonwoo and then at the cup of coffee.

“i thought you might want some coffee”, he fills in. “oh god i did need some coffee, thank you wonwoo”, you tell, taking a sip, grateful for his sweet gesture. 

“when can we go find my ring? i really have to find it, i’ll never forgive myself otherwise”, you say, putting the coffee back on the counter as you go on a sleepy rant when wonwoo steps forward and holds out his hand. he opens it and lo and behold, your ring is there. your jaw drops and you look up at wonwoo. 

“no way. you found it, you really found it”, you tell as you take the ring, examining it like you were making sure it was really yours before slipping it back on your finger. 

you’re so happy and you jump at wonwoo, hugging him, “thank you thank you thank you”, you chant, feeling so relieved right now, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. that’s when you realise what you were doing, making you step back abruptly, clearing your throat. “i mean, thank you”, you tell again, as you compose yourself. he gives you an appreciative nod and a small smile and you feel your stomach do a little somersault.

a week later the next trial is being held. you didn’t go for this one, but you got updates from jeonghan and of course the news. the headlines about your father were also ridiculous, but you were used to it at this point really. it’s like the whole world was against your father right now, everyone hated him and you of course. people were angry and demanding justice and jail time, saying he stole taxpayers' money and that he owned the people back, that he should rot in jail for the rest of his life. you shake your head and open your front door to go water your garden when you see another small box on your doorstep. you had been getting these all week. they were threats and normally you should have been scared. but you thought it was a harmless joke. you’d gotten countless threats on the internet so you just assumed it was someone having some fun. shrugging it off, you decided to not tell wonwoo about this. 

the weird boxes continue to come, but you realise that they got progressively worse each time, the last two even had death threats, and threats about breaking into your house, but yet again, you didn’t take it seriously. you woke up later today, having trusted wonwoo with your house code so he could enter and start his duty and not have to wake you up at 7am every day. 

when you walk to the living area, wonwoo is there. “good morning”, he greets and you yawn, waving at him. “you got a parcel”, he tells and you look at the counter, recognising the box. “shit not another one”, you mumble but wonwoo is sharp to hear it.

you open it, and this time it’s a bunch of your photos, cut up weirdly. but the worst part, your heads were cut off in all of them and there was a cryptic message too. wonwoo comes forward, sees the letter and is quick to look at you. he reaches out for the letter, taking it from your hand before you can hide it and his eyes scan over the contents of the letter, his jaw clenched.

“this isn't okay”, he says. “it probably isn’t a big deal wonwoo, i’ve been getting them all week”, you blurt out, before realising it and you can feel wonwoo’s gaze get more intense.

“what? and you didn’t think to tell me?”, he asks firmly. “i didn’t want to make big deal out it, it’s probably harmless, i get stuff like this all the time online”, you tell.

“but this isn’t online”, he says, emphasizing his words.”and it's always not a big deal until something actually happens yn, this is dangerous”, he tells, clearly upset about this, raising his voice slightly.

he makes you show him all the mail and he looks stressed to say the least. “yn you should have told me about this”, he says, stressed. “how am i supposed to protect you if i don’t know about things like this”, he adds and you can feel his eyes drill into you. 

“i’m sorry wonwoo”, you say, feeling bad.

“well, it is a big deal and action will be taken”, he says.  “they know your address yn, do a lot of people know your address, where you live?”, he asks, making you think and that’s when you realise. “oh”, you say. “i mean paps are around my house all the time”, you tell.

“but this isn’t a pap”, he tells. “it means this person has been following you around”, he says. “you mean like stalking?”, you ask. “yes exactly”, he tells. you gulp, suddenly realising the weight of the situation.

wonwoo looked stressed the entire day even though you told him not to worry and that you’d karate chop anyone who came near you. he didn’t laugh at your joke, obviously, just keeping a straight face. that night, wonwoo seems apprehensive to leave, worried about the threats you were getting, but you assured him that you were going to be okay, that you were going to lock all your doors and windows and sleep. 

the letters and threats keep coming, each getting more violent and wonwoo doesn’t like it one bit. “we need to put some cctvs around your house”, he tells you. you argue that you don’t really need it, but he insists, and to be honest, in the long run, it could be useful so you cave in and he informs you that he’ll make the arrangements.

that night, you’re lying in bed, busy watching a show on your laptop. it was late, but you couldn’t sleep so here you were, catching up on a tv show. but that’s when you hear a noise from outside. you shrug it off and continue watching when your phone pings.

i can see you

what the fuck. you get up and try to look out the window, not seeing anything, but that’s when you hear a noise and you see the shadow of someone on the wall. it moves swiftly and you take a step back, scared. your phone pings again.

looking for me?

you swear you feel a shiver run down your spine. you hear a rattle on your window outside and you gasp, anxious as you tiptoe your way there and you swear you hear a laugh, making you jump.

did i scare you?

another text reads and you gulp, backing up. fuck. 

you scramble to unlock your phone and you dial wonwoo, not knowing who else to call. he doesn’t pick up on the first go and you hear the heavy boots of someone outside before you hear your glass window break, a stone getting thrown inside. you dial wonwoo again and he picks up.

“wonwoo, fuck, there’s someone here, i think they’re trying to break in”, you tell in a panic and the phone gets disconnected as you yelp in pain as a small stone from outside that hits your hand, breaking the window furthur as glass shatters everywhere. you hand stings and you clutch your hand as you try to ground yourself. you start panicking, and getting anxious, tears brimming in your eyes. your phone slips from your hand, landing with a thud on the ground. you try to reach out for it but end up getting cut from the glass you couldn’t see in the dark. you suck in a breath as you feel the sharp cut burn and you move back as you sink to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest, hiding under the dining table. what if wonwoo didn’t come you thought as a tear escaped you. you had to get yourself together. but then another stone gets thrown shattering your already broken window. shit, what if someone came in right now. this wasn’t good. your thoughts only add fuel to your panic and you just try to huddle under the table, your hands shaking.

you don’t know how much time passed and you don’t even hear your front door open as wonwoo runs in. “yn?”, he calls out. your house was still dark and you can hear the crunch of glass as he steps on it with his boots, cursing under his breath.

he calls your phone which had fallen down, as it lights up and rings. “yn?”, he calls out again, an edge to his voice, seeing your phone that was discarded on the floor.  you raise your head, accidentally hitting it on the top and you wince. you hear wonwoo’s feet shuffle around and he bends down, finally locating you. he offers you his hand and helps you up, which you gladly take. he’s quick to assess your state, guiding you to your bedroom because of all the glass that’s scattered on the floor. he locates the switch and turns on the light and you wince a bit from the sudden intrusion of light. you sit down and wonwoo sits beside you. “are you okay? are you hurt?”, he asks, looking at you carefully before he spots the cut on your hand, bleeding badly. you don’t know how he found your first aid kid, probably his super senses. wonwoo’s sitting next to you as he aids to your cut. he gently holds your hand. “it’s going to burn a bit okay”, he says before he dabs the cut and you wince when the disinfectant comes in contact with your cut, the sting burning and you close your eyes. he wipes it a few more times before letting it dry a bit and covering it with a bandaid. he can tell you’re still pretty shaken up, in a state of shock because of how quiet you are and the way your eyes are still glossed over and teary.

“it’s okay, we caught the person”, he says, trying to help you ease up. “he was running away just as i came and i caught him. he’s with the police right now, but you’ll have to go to the station to answer some questions tomorrow”, he explains. 

“he’s gone?”, you ask and he nods and you feel yourself relax a little. you were okay. it was going to be okay.

“i thought you weren’t going to come”, you mumble out. “i would come running for you”, he says, making you look at him. his gaze is soft as he looks at you. “really?”, you ask, softly as you start to get lost in his gaze. “yes”, he says as he holds your gaze.

once everything is settled, he stands in front of you. it was 1am now. “i’ll see you tomorrow then”, he said and he turned around to leave when you grab the end of his shirt sleeve. he turns around, looking down to his hand that you held onto his sleeve before he looks up at you. “can you stay?”, you ask softly, peering up at him. “i’m a little scared”, you add softly, your hand still tugging on the end of his sleeve. “but if you have to go, i understand,” you tell, reluctantly letting go of his sleeve. “i’ll see you tomorrow anyway”, you tell, feeling like you don’t want to burden wonwoo anymore.

“it’s okay, i can stay”, he says. 

you tell wonwoo to sleep in the guest bedroom, practically dragging him there because he said he’d sleep on the couch. there was no way he was going to sleep on the couch, especially after the windows got broken there. wonwoo was a bit stubborn, but he finally gives in after you threaten to lock him in if he doesn’t listen to you.

you say a small goodnight before you retreat back into your own room. you fall asleep, only to be awoken as you suddenly feel hot. your head is heavy and you don’t feel good. you needed water. you stand up, feeling a little dizzy before you steady yourself and open your door, heading to the kitchen. you turn on the light and reach out to fetch glass from the counter but your grip falters and it falls to the ground, shattering. you curse under your breath. you’re about to bend down to clean it up but you hear wonwoo call out for you.

“yn?”, he asks as he steps into view, taking in the sight of you and the broken glass. he’s prompt to walk closer. “are you okay?”, he asks. “yeah, it just slipped”, you tell softly. his gaze on your lingers before he’s swift to pick you up and place you on the counter and you don’t even have the chance to protest about it. “let me clean this up okay”, he tells and is quick to remove all the glass and neatly sweep the area. your head is throbbing and you don’t feel too good, your head feeling heavy. 

“are you okay?”, wonwoo asks again, observing you keenly and he can tell that something is off about you, that you don’t look okay. “y-yeah”, you say softly, answering him. “you can tell me if something is bothering you yn, i’m here for you”, he adds, his eyes still trained on you and you feel utterly exposed when he looks at you like that, like he can tell exactly what you were thinking and feeling. you gulp.

“i-i don’t feel too good”, you finally admit.

he raises his hand to gently press the back of his hand to your forehead and you watch how his eyebrows furrow.

"yn you’re burning up”, wonwoo says, checking your temperature again. you hop down from the counter, not listening to wonwoo as his arm comes up to wrap around your waist to steady you as you stumble slightly.

“yn, you need to get back to bed”, he instructs, a worried edge to his voice. before you know it, he’s scooping you up in his arms and carrying you bridal style back to the bedroom and you don’t have it in your to say anything as he gently lays you down, adjusting your pillow for you. he’s quick to fetch you a glass of water. he asks you if you have any fever or headache medication and you shake your head lightly indicating that you didn’t have any. he tells you he’ll be back, that he’s just going to the pharmacy around the corner and you lay in bed, under the covers. the throbbing in your head only gets worse and you start to tear up. you fall asleep for a few minutes but awaken when you hear wonwoo’s softly call out to you. you turn around, sniffling and wonwoo can tell you were crying, his expression softening as he sits down next to you. 

he helps you take the medication for your fever, telling you that it is going to be okay, that he was right here. your hand brushes against his as you lay as you slowly fall asleep. you feel when his hand move and you reach out, grabbing onto his fingers. “stay, please”, you mumble, half asleep, holding onto his hand as you finally fall asleep. 

you wake up in the morning and feel a bit better, sitting up. you’re about to get up when wonwoo enters, spotting you awake. “how are you feeling?”, he asks. “a bit better”, you tell, still feeling a little tired.

“i’m sorry for keeping you up”, you add softly, looking at him. “you can take the day off today, i’m just gonna be at home”, you add. 

“it’s not an issue”, he fills in. “i got you some rice porridge, you should eat some and take the medication again”, wonwoo informs. he offers to bring it to you but you decline, saying you wanted to get out of bed anyway. he’s a little hesitant but walks with you to the dining table where he brings the bowl of porridge to you.

you nibble on a few bites of the food, wonwoo keenly watching you and you feel like you’re being stripped bare again by the way he looks at you. “sorry if i kept you awake”, you tell, feeling a little bad. 

“don’t apologise yn, i’m more than happy to be around and help”, he says.

after you eat a bit and take your medication, you sleep for a bit more, while wonwoo arranges for your windows to get fixed. you wake up after a few hours and you walk out. wonwoo is there, talking to one of the workers before he spots you in the corner of his eye. he’s dressed in rather casual clothes compared to his daily suits. today was just trousers with a shirt and blazer jacket. he still managed to look good. you were sure he would look good in everything. but the one thing you noticed was his hair, it was down, his bangs falling over his head. and somehow it softened his look, he looked so pretty. wonwoo makes his way towards you, greeting you. 

“sorry if all the noise woke you up”, he says as he takes in your appearance.

“it’s okay, i was up anyway", you say.

“they’re almost done”, he adds and you retreat back to your room, crashing in bed as you cuddle your pillow and you’re falling asleep again.

later that week, wonwoo was extra tight on security, he installed cctv cameras outside and the guy who was stalking you was put on a restraining order and fined. jeonghan had also messaged you about all the details about the charity business ball you had to attend in your fathers place. he said going to the ball would sort of put in a good word about your father while jeonghan was working on the trials, even though everything still looked uncertain as ever and the hate for your father just got worse.

the only thing you hated more than parties were parties that were held in the middle of nowhere. your dad always hosted this party at this venue in the middle of nowhere really, far from the city, saying the change of scenery added to the value and taste of the ball. you’d never gone to this charity business ball he’d hosted even though he’d invite you. you hated parties and all the people that came with it. it was tiresome and you’d much rather be at the comfort of your own home.

the charity ball was the news of the week, everyone was covering this and you’d bet some media people were going to be there being their nosy selves as usual. you end up meeting with your usual stylist - hwasa and she’s more than happy to curate a bunch of outfits for you to try on and see which one works for the event. wonwoo accompanies you, standing in the corner of the room while you try on the twelfth dress, already exhausted by the whole process.

but out of all the dresses you tried, you’d liked this one the best. it was a white satin dress with full sleeves and you loved it.  it fits you the best too. you step out, looking for hwasa but she’s not there, probably gone to get a few more dresses. you see wonwoo, his eyes catching yours and you see the way they change, widening a little before going back to his stoic expression. 

“how do i look?”, you ask wonwoo, looking at him expectantly. he clears his throat before speaking. “you look pretty”, he says and you give him a look. “just pretty? you have to give me more wonwoo. how do we like it from the other dresses?”, you ask, prodding him.

“it’s the best fit compared to the others and compliments you well”, he adds. “right! i thought so too!”, you tell, smiling. just then hwasa appears, smiling as she sees you. “this is the one”, she says as she looks at you and you do a little twirl for her. “yup, let's go with this one”, you tell.

you decide to get an outfit for wonwoo too, you wanted him to look good so you send him with hwasa to get him an outfit, even though he said that he was alright, you insisted.

after the day is over, you head home, tired. the charity ball was on the weekend and it was already wednesday. you were not looking forward to this at all but you were only doing it for your father’s sake. and after all, the company was going to come into your hands later so you might as well show them who you are and what you were capable of, right?

you were supposed to ideally leave on friday night to the venue and stay at a hotel nearby, but you were nervous and somehow at last minute, the hotel you booked cancelled on you, so you just decided to go on the same evening, except it would be a three hour drive. you’re a frantic mess that morning. from going to hwasa’s studio to get your makeup and hair done, and you go back home, leaving from there after changing. the only hitch was they didn’t have the shoes you chose in your size even though it was ordered but it didn’t come on time, so now you were stuck with shoes that were a tad bit tight, but you had to put up with it in the name of fashion. 

you’re all ready and you hear a knock on your door. “the car is ready, i’ll be waiting outside”, you hear wonwoo tell.

"i'll be there in a minute", you yell out as you quickly check your appearance in the mirror before you head out. it was going to be okay hopefully, but you couldn’t help the feeling of dread already pooling in your stomach. you give yourself a smile in the mirror before walking out, your shoes already starting to feel uncomfortable. you have your small handbag with your stuff and grab your house key, locking up before turning around and your jaw almost drops on the floor because holy shit.

wonwoo. he looked gorgeous. he was wearing a black turtleneck paired with a black blazer. his hair was styled but over his forehead and he was wearing glasses. god. you stand there for a whole 30 seconds just staring at wonwoo because wow, he looks so hot right now. you’re not even looking when you take the next step, completely misplacing where you put your foot, tripping down the step but you feel a pair of hands grab your waist, steadying you as wonwoo is quick to catch you. your hands are draped on wonwoo as you look up at him and suddenly he’s so close and he smells so good. you can smell his cologne and it just draws you in more. you’re staring at wonwoo, surprised and your eyes flicker down to his lips for a split second before glancing back up. 

“woah are you okay”, he asks, worried as he helps you get back on your feet, his hands still lingering around your waist. 

“y-yeah”, you mumble out, clearing your throat, and you’re acutely aware of his hands on your body again, making your cheeks heat up. your hand is still clutching wonwoo’s hand before you pull your hand away, gulping as you look down.

you sit behind because your dress needs space so it won’t crease and you glance at wonwoo occasionally as he drives, his side profile is so pretty. he looked pretty hot with glasses and you were suddenly wondering why he didn’t wear them more often. you shift your legs and feel a dull pinch in your feet as you look at your heels. you’d have ideally removed them in the car but it had the most confusing way to tie them up and they’d been tied nicely already. you didn’t want to ruin that so you let it be, sighing. but little did you know that wonwoo would also occasionally look back at you through the rearview mirror. he thought you looked gorgeous tonight.

the car ride is silent except for some soft music playing and your mind starts wandering to the event, trying to prepare yourself for what was to come.

you can tell you’re close when you see all the lights and the venue up front along with the bunch of cars. you take a deep breath, trying to ease your nervousness. your nerves start to hit you more as the car stands in line to walk to the red carpet. you can hear the people, the fans and see the countless media and news reporters who’ve come to cover the event. 

soon it’s your turn to walk the red carpet and get to the ball. you’re so nervous that your hands are almost shaking and you hate it. you hate the flashes and the crowd already. the car comes to a halt and wonwoo gets down, rushing to your side and opening the door for you. now that the door was open, all the noise was amplified. you take a breath before you see wonwoo offer his hand to you and you look up at him, the look of panic evident on your face as you get up, and wonwoo can feel the way your hand shakes in his, giving you a small but somewhat comforting squeeze as you put on a fake smile as you step out. you walk ahead, posing for a few pictures before you walk ahead, wonwoo walking behind you. 

you get in and you’re greeted by a bunch of people, some you know, some you don’t. most of them were your father’s business partners, people he worked with or were friends and relatives. the rest were just invited for courtesy. 

you’re offered a glass of champagne as you enter and you take it, and walk ahead. but as you walk you can feel everyone’s eyes on you, you can feel the weight of their gazes and they all talk in hushed voices as you walk past. you see your father’s friends and go up to them, greeting him.

“hello”, you say nicely and they greet you but are rather hostile. they make small remarks about your father and his situation, joking about not wanting to be seen with you as to protect their reputation. they’re laughing as you’re just standing there, trying not to lose it as you excuse yourself and walk away. your father really had shitty friends, you had to say that. you turn around and spot wonwoo to the side of the room at the back, along with all the other bodyguards as his eyes find yours. you give him a small smile and he nods, smiling ever so softly.

you walk around and talk around to a few people, some feigning sympathy and pity for your dad while others downright insult him. you countered these claims to every person, saying he didn’t do it but they all just laughed or shook their heads. finally, it was time for the ball and event to begin and you took a seat. as you were the host have to technically open the thing so here you were, walking up to the stage, your feet killing you already and your nerves ready to snap at any second. as you take the stage and see the sea of people in front of you, you feel the anxiety pool in your stomach and you gulp. you can feel everyone’s eyes on you, boring into you and suddenly you feel like you’d committed a thousand crimes and everyone was judging you.

“good evening ladies and gentlemen”, you say, giving the audience a small smile. 

“i am here tonight on behalf of my father, but i welcome you all and would like to thank you all for coming. the proceeds raised at this ball will be going to children and people in need. thank you for coming once again and have a great night”, you tell, people clapping and you walk off.

another host takes over from here and you walk down the stage, holding your dress up as you look down and see someone you really did not want to be seeing right now - your dad’s business partner's son, who was a #1 asshole.

he’d always been a snob and you almost roll your eyes at the sight of him. you see people writing cheques and putting them in the donation box and in the other room people were dancing to the live band who were playing music.

“hello yn, long time no see”, he says, flashing you his smile, which you didn’t reciprocate. “hi”, you say.

“nice party”, he adds. “thanks”, you say.

“i would like to offer you the first dance”, he asks, giving you a mischievous smile. “oh no that’s alright”, you say but he doesn’t listen.

“come on, don’t be a spoilsport”, he says, taking your hand and taking you along with him to the other side of the room. and soon, his hand is on your waist and he’s smirking at you as you both slowly move. you can see people looking at you but you try to ignore it.

“how’s your dad? i bet things are hard right now”, he says.

“yeah, but i’m sure the truth will be revealed at the end”, you say.

he laughs, making a few snide remarks about your father, which you try to ignore. but suddenly you feel the thread you’re trying to hold onto snap and suddenly the music is too loud, you don’t like the way he’s holding your hand too tight or the way his hand on your waist is going lower and you try to pull away but he doesn’t let you. 

“oh i’m sure the truth will be revealed soon”, he says and he leans in, whispering in your ear. “that your father is a crook”, he tells, smirking and he looks at you and you pull your hand away. you walk away, watching as people’s gaze turn towards you but you ignore it, the tears pooling in your eyes as you make your way to the restroom. you enter and lock yourself in one of the stalls, letting a few tears roll down. you hear the door open and a few girls.

“did you see her?”, one of them says.

“i can’t believe she had the audacity to come really”, another girl says.

“she’s so shameless. if my father was jailed i would like never to show my face to anyone.”, a girl adds and the others laugh.

“probably got spoiled from her father’s rotten money”, another girl tells, and they all snicker as they leave.

hearing this only makes you more upset and more tears well in your eyes as you cry silently. you didn’t want to be here anymore, you wanted to be alone, you wanted to leave. you wanted to leave now. panic rises in your chest again along with anger. your eyes well with tears as you walk down the basement where the cars were parked. thank god you had your spare car key with you and you locate your car, getting in and driving off. you grip the steering wheel hard, making your knuckles turn white as you drive. you don’t even know here you’re going, you just know you had to get out of here. you don’t know how long you’ve been driving for, when you realise you don’t even know where you are. you had gotten a couple of texts from wonwoo but you ignore it and soon wonwoo was calling you but you ignored it too. you didn’t have the energy to deal with him right now. you wanted to be alone. 

your car suddenly sputters and breaks down in the middle of the road in almost the middle of nowhere. the road was empty and you couldn’t see anyone or any other cars, people or buildings, fuck. you bury your head in your hands, crying out in frustration as you think about what to do. well you guess now was a good time to call wonwoo. 

wonwoo picks up your phone almost immediately. he’d seen you dancing but after that, during the entire party he didn’t see you. now that it was almost over and he still couldn’t locate you, he was obviously worried. he’d texted you and called you countless times but you weren’t responding, leading him to think something might have happened. he’s a frantic mess as he desperately tries to look for you, calling you, but you don’t respond. 

“yn? yn are you okay”, wonwoo’s voice is urgent on the other line of the phone.

“wonwoo”, you tell softly, nearly on the verge of tears again. 

“where are you? are you okay?”, he asks and that’s all it takes for you to burst into tears again, feeling like the whole weight of the world was on your shoulders.

“yn, please tell me where you are”, he pleads, concern laced in his voice.

“i don’t know”, you tell, your voice cracking, more tears rolling down your already tear stained cheek. 

“i got overwhelmed and i left, i took the car and i drove and i-i don’t know where i am”, you tell through broken sobs. “and now the car broke down, god knows where”, you add, sniffling. 

“send me your live location, i’ll track you”, he says. “stay in the car and lock the doors, i’m coming”, he assures. “can you stay on the line with me”, you ask. “of course”, he fills in.

wonwoo discovers you’ve driven a whole 45 minutes away and he assures you that he’s coming. but only ten minutes in your phone dies. “fucking phone”, you mumble as you look at the dark road. ten minutes pass and now you start getting scared. wonwoo was going to come right? blame your stupid anxiety but you thought of the worst scenarios that could happen, only psyching yourself more. the car feels more suffocating by the minute and your shoes feel like they're getting tighter. panic sets in stronger and you can’t take it anymore, can’t take the tightness in your shoes and you hastily undo the laces and pull off your shoes, wincing slightly when you feel it scrape against the back of your ankle. you close your eyes and try to take a few deep breaths.

after what feels like an eternity, you see a car pull up near you. you can’t make out anyone, the light almost blinding, but you see someone step out, making their way to your car. you open the door and step out, hearing the voice calling your name - wonwoo. relief immediately floods through your body as you run towards him, crashing into his arms as you start sobbing in his chest, your arms wrapped tightly around his body. he’s a little taken aback but his hands engulf you, pulling you in for a warm embrace.

“i thought you weren’t going to make it”, you mumble out, your arms wrapped around wonwoo as you start to cry. “of course i’d come yn, i gave you my word”, he says, his hand coming up to cradle your head.

“my phone died and i-i didn’t know what i was going to do”, you mumble out, looking up at wonwoo. he studies your face, his gaze softening as he takes in your state and your tear-stained cheeks. you’ve cried a lot today. you finally drop your hands from around wonwoo, letting him go. wonwoo looks down and sees you’re barefoot. “where are your shoes?”, he asks. “they’re in the car, it was getting uncomfortable”, you say. wonwoo is quick to grab your phone, keys and bag from your car and to your surprise, there’s a pair of sneakers. he puts them in front of you, bending down to help you put them on. “where did you get those?”, you ask, surprised. “i like to be prepared”, he informs, helping you wear the shoes before standing back up and your hand automatically grab his hand, intertwining your fingers in his, hoping to find some grounding through his touch.

wonwoo asks the cab to take you both to the nearest hotel, which was roughly ten minutes away from where you were according to the cab driver. you’re still holding wonwoo’s hand and he lets you as you try to calm down. you see a building up ahead and the cab driver tells you that this is the location. you both enter, walking up to the reception and the lady there looks up as you both up.

“we’d like two rooms please”, wonwoo asks. 

“unfortunately we only have one room left”, the lady says.

“we’ll take it”, you chirp in and wonwoo looks at you. 

“it’s a couple suite so i can only book couples in it”, she says, chewing on gum, looking bored to even be there. “are you a couple or”, she asks.

“no” “yes”, you say and you both look at each other.

“we are, ignore him, he’s a little shy”, you tell and she just looks between you both again. 

“alright, how would you like to pay, cash or card?” the lady asks. you dig through your purse and find your card, handing it over and you have your room key. wonwoo notices the way you’re walking slowly this time, watching your face contour in the slightest of winces with each step. “are you hurt?”, he asks, walking forward as he puts his hands on your shoulder, his eyes raking your body for any sign of discomfort or hurt. “no-my shoes-ouch-were the wrong fit”, you fill in. “i think i got a shoebite from them”, you say as you look up the flight of stairs you’d have to climb mentally bracing yourself when you feel wonwoo’s hands wrap around you and lifting you up bridal style. you let out a small surprised yelp, your arms wrapping around wonwoo’s neck for support. 

“woah w-what are you doing?”, you stutter out, looking at wonwoo, whose face is barely inches from yours. “your feet are already hurt, i don’t want you climbing up the stairs in that state”, he announces, carrying you as he walks up the stairs. you feel that familiar heat creep up your cheeks and that tiny feeling of butterflies as you look at wonwoo. he looked really pretty up close, his hair falling over his forehead as his glasses sat perfectly on the bridge of his nose. you reach your room and unlock the door, wonwoo still carrying you and he sets you down. you tell him a quiet thank you as your hands are quick to slide off the sneakers, feeling instant relief. but just has you had predicted, you got shoebites. both the sides of your pinky toes and heels were bruised and raw.

wonwoo fetches something from his wallet - bandaids. you’re surprised. “so you just carry around bandaids in your wallet??”, you ask, amused. “like i said, i have to be prepared”, he says. you try to take the bandaid from his hand, telling him that you’d put it on but he doesn’t let you as he bends down on one knee so now he’s matching your height. he gently places your foot on his knee has he puts the bandaid your heel. he repeats the same for your other heel before you put your leg down and wonwoo looks at you.

“i’m sorry”, you tell softly, gazing into his alluring eyes. “are you mad at me? it’s valid if you’re mad at me because i just ran off and completely ignored your calls and-”. you stop when you feel his hand gently squeeze yours, a small act of assurance. “you’re safe now and that’s all that matters”, he says, his voice deeply soothing. you smile, leaning in to peck his cheek. “thank you wonwoo”, you tell and he gives you a soft smile as he gets up. little did you know that wonwoo’s heart was racing from your little action as he tried to maintain his composure.

wonwoo wanders off to another room but comes back outside. “there’s only one bed”, he says, like it’s a fact. “so?”, you ask, getting up.

“i guess i’ll sleep on the couch over there”, he says, pointing towards the couch that looked like anyone would wake up with back pain if they slept on it. 

“wonwoo it’s fine, we’re just gonna sleep”, you tell. “you’re acting like sleeping in the same bed is a crime”, you say. “i would prefer not to interfere-” “sleep on the bed or i’ll take the couch”, you threaten.

but now there was a bigger problem than the bed, you didn’t have any change of clothes. thankfully the hotel sold some stuff as merchandise and t-shirts and pants were in the collection too. 

you go to the bathroom and change, finally stripping out of your dress and you hang it up to air, changing into the clothes you got.  your feet still hurt a bit when you walked because they’d been cramped up in those tiny shoes for too long. you walk out, your eyes widening as you catch wonwoo changing his shirt and you immediately turn around, your cheeks flushing. “sorry”, you mumble before turning around after a few seconds. but you did not miss the peek you got at his abs, oh my gosh. 

you mentally slap yourself and sit on the corner of the bed, a yawn taking over you as you glance at the time - 2am. you were tired, it had been a long and exhausting day. you settle in bed, wonwoo sitting on the single couch opposite you, his hair slightly ruffled now from him running his hands through it, and yet it somehow still looked fluffy. wonwoo told you he’d sleep in a bit and you close your eyes, dozing off immediately, sleep overtaking your tired body. but you wake up an hour later because of a loud crack and boom and the heavy downpour of rain. you stir awake and another lighting strikes, flashing into the room before a low rumble follows. you open your eyes and see wonwoo, who’s busy reading a book under the dim lights. you sit up slightly, another loud thunder hitting making you jump as you hit your head on the headboard, startling wonwoo as well. 

“yn? are you okay?”, he asks, putting the book down and coming up to you. another loud thunder rumbles, shaking the ground and you cover your eyes, closing your eyes. you hated thunderstorms. “what’s wrong?”, wonwoo asks, sitting down beside you on the other side of the bed. “n-nothing i just don’t like loud noises and thunder”, you meekly say, still sleepy from the sudden intrusion. “it’s dumb i-”, you stop when another earth rumbling thunder hits, making you jump again. “can i hold your hand? it helps me calm down”, you ask softly, a little embarrassed, but wonwoo offers you his hand. it feels warm, soft and safe as you hold it and wonwoo makes himself a bit more comfortable as he sits next to you. 

“what were you reading? '', you ask, letting wonwoo’s hand go after two minutes and now that you are a bit more awake, you take in wonwoo’s look. even in the dark, you could make out his hair was now messily dishevelled which only added to the charm and the glasses god, he looked so hot. you weren’t even listening to what he was saying as your hand fiddles with your ring on your finger. wonwoo looks at you and tilts his head to the side ever so slightly.  

“what are you thinking about?”, he asks, his voice deep.

“n-nothing”, you fill in, feeling embarrassed about your thoughts. “how do you know i’m thinking about something”, you ask, trying to get the upper hand on wonwoo, only for it to backfire on you.

“you’re fiddling with your ring, and you only do that when you’re thinking about something or something is bothering you”, he says. well damn, he was a keen observer. 

“oh”, is all you say as you look at your ring, biting your lip before you look back up at him.

“nothing, it’s really stupid”, you tell but wonwoo looks like he wasn’t going to budge until you gave him an answer.

“i’m sure it’s not stupid”, he adds, trying to reassure you, waiting expectantly. fuck it you think.

“i was just thinking about um”, you start getting nervous, your cheeks heating up and you avoid his gaze, stuttering out the next words. “i was thinking about how-um-how good you look with glasses. it really brings out your features you know and it makes you look really hot. you should wear them more often”, you confess, whispering the last bit, the familiar heat creeping up your cheeks. he doesn’t say anything, but you swear you can see the faint smirk as his lips curve up. you look away, his gaze on you suddenly too intense for you to bear. 

“okay your turn, what are you thinking about”, you ask in a hurry, hoping it would turn the attention away from you.

“do you really want to know?”, he asks slowly and you nod your head, looking at him. “you don’t talk much do you, so i’m guessing there must be a lot on your mind”, you prompt. he’s silent for a few seconds before he speaks.

“i’m thinking about what a wonderful person you are”, he says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “i’m thinking about how you are only so caring and attentive towards others but yourself. i’m thinking about how the whole world seems to have a wrong impression of you, and that you don’t deserve any of the shitty things happening to you right now. i’m thinking about when it will all end and when you’ll be able to be happy”, he says, his words completely catching you off guard. each of his thoughts strike a chord in you and you almost tear up. out of everyone, it seemed like only wonwoo was on your side. 

“wonwoo”, you say softly, at a loss for words. you don’t even know when you leaned towards wonwoo but your eyes flicker down to his lips for a split second before you look back up. “i’m thinking about how gorgeous you looked tonight and that if i had the chance i would have asked you for a dance earlier tonight if not given the current circumstances”, he adds, his gaze never leaving yours as he stares into you deeply, fondly as he opens up to you.

“and as of this moment, i’m thinking about how it would be to kiss you”, he fills in and you blink up at him, getting nervous at his confession. you answer him by leaning in and softly pecking his lips, lingering for a few seconds before you pull away but still close enough that has your heart beating rapidly. 

wonwoo leans in, kissing you, properly this time. his hand gently cups your cheek as he moves his lips against yours and you swear you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach at that moment. you kiss him back and you move your head, accidentally knocking his glasses, making you both pull away. “oops sorry”, you say, a little breathless as your hands reach out to take off his glasses and he is quick to put them on the side table before turning his attention back to you. you look up at him. “what are you thinking about now?”, you ask, your lips centimetres away from his, and you can feel your heart racing again, the echoes of the beats loud in your chest.

“i’m thinking about how i want to kiss you again”, he says, closing the gap between you both as he captures your lips in his this time you sigh into the kiss as wonwoo cups your cheek, deepening the kiss as his arm encircles your waist, pulling you closer to him. wonwoo quite literally knocks the breath out of you as he pulls away slowly, watching your chest rise and fall. you kiss him again, getting giddy at the feeling of his lips on yours as he kisses you breathlessly again, softly pushing you down on the bed as your head rests on the pillow, wonwoo’s body hovers over yours, careful not to put his weight on you as he kisses you sweetly, the drumming of the rain outside as your soundtrack.

you wake up, wonwoo’s arms around your waist as you blink your eyes open. the sun was filtering through the white curtains, rays of sunshine adorning the floor and wall. wonwoo is still fast asleep beside you and you take this chance to look at him, really look at him. his hair is messy but cutely dishevelled, his eyes closed as soft breaths leave him as he sleeps, peaceful. he’s so pretty you think to yourself as you smile softly to yourself. you remember the events of last night, the kiss, and suddenly feel yourself getting very very shy as you bite your lips to contain the silly smile that aims to erupt across your face. you continue to admire wonwoo, his big warm hands still engulfing you as you shift slightly to check the time. when you turn back, wonwoo softly stirs awake, his pretty eyes fluttering open as he awakens. 

“hi”, you say softly.

“hi”, he says, his morning voice deeply attractive.

you both look at each other, not saying anything but just taking in each other’s presence. “did you sleep okay?”, he asks, searching your face and you shake your head, mumbling something about how you’re still tired.

his hand comes up to hold yours as he gently lifts it to his lips, giving it a soft kiss, his eyes never leaving yours, making you laugh softly. god, he was so dreamy. 

“what do you want to do today?”, he asks.

“sleep, i just wanna sleep”, you groan, burying your face into the pillow. wonwoo’s hand wraps around your waist as he pulls you closer towards him. “then sleep”, he says, placing a soft kiss to your cheek, making you smile. you close your eyes and soon drift off to sleep, wonwoo’s embrace making you feel safe and comfortable. and soon, wonwoo was also sleeping with you, both of you sleeping soundly in each other’s embrace.

it’s only around lunchtime that you both stir awake again and mostly because someone was knocking on your door, leading you to both wake up to the sudden noise. 

“we have to checkout by 5pm or pay to stay another night”, he tells you. “we should leave, but the car!”, you tell, sitting up in bed.

“i’ll get it fixed, i’ve arranged for it, " he says. “i’ll go get our clothes from the hotel’s drycleaning," he says. you’d have to wear the same dress again but you didn’t mind. 

wonwoo is quick to have a shower and he's changed into his suit from yesterday, that’s all clean and freshly pressed for the day minus the blazer as he tells you he’ll bring the car. you ask him if you can come along but he says it’s best to stay back. you feel a bit bummed about it but stay back nonetheless. all your luggage was in the car, in a rush you and wonwoo had forgotten it, but could change when he was back. wonwoo is finally back and you manage to get your luggage, and you change into something comfortable, ready to leave for home.

you check out and head towards the car as wonwoo loads in your luggage before spotting you, opening the car door for you. you sit upfront this time and the journey home begins. you end up talking a bit but get hungry since you really haven’t eaten anything yet. wonwoo is quick to stop by a nearby restaurant once you guys enter the city and you gladly inhale some food.

it’s been two weeks since you and wonwoo kissed and every time you thought about it, it made you all shy. wonwoo was his usual self, back in business mode but his touches now lingered and he’d talk to you sweetly, opening up to you more, and maybe somehow a little more protective of you.

you were now in jeonghan’s office, upset and mostly scared of the way your father’s trial was going. it seemed like things were going in favour of the prosecution and not your father.

“what’s going wrong”, you ask jeonghan, who only sighs at your question. “i’m really trying my best here yn”, jeonghan says, looking at you. “i really don’t know where the prosecution is getting all this new evidence from”, he says. “i’m doing my best yn but at this rate maybe it’s better for your father to serve the jail time”, he says, making you immediately protest at the thought. 

“what? why should he go to jail for something he didn’t even do?”, you almost yell out.

“given the circumstances, serving ten years looks the best for him. i can even try to reduce it to seven along with community service and probation”, he adds and you click your tongue, upset at the whole idea and proposition. 

he takes a few moments to think before speaking to you again. "his company has come to a standstill, someone needs to step up in the meantime and run things around there”, he starts off, being careful with his words.

“but you know what would help? if i was maybe given the power of attorney. it would help big time in trying to smooth over the company and business until things with your father are settled”, he says, giving you an assuring smile. 

“you should ask my father about that”, you say. “oh i know but maybe you could also ask him, it would be helpful”, he asks.

“i’ll see”, you say. “just make sure my father gets out of this soon”, you ask jeonghan. he gives you a smile, which for some reason runs a shiver down your spine but you shake it off, getting up. 

wonwoo drops you home that night after your meeting with jeonghan and walks you back inside. he can tell you’re stressed and anxious about your father’s situation as both of you linger at the doorstep. he reaches out for your hand, as he looks at you, his thumb caressing your hand in an attempt to comfort and soothe you. after a few seconds he takes a few steps forward, bringing his arms around you as he engulfs you in a much needed hug. you sigh in his arms as you close your eyes, letting yourself sink his hold.

“i’m going to be here with you every step of the way”, he reassures. 

“thank you wonwoo”, you respond as you pull away and look at him.

“it’s going to be okay”, he says as he looks at you. 

“i hope so”, you say, almost defeated after what jeonghan told you about earlier. 

he looks at you with the most loving eyes before he leans in and kisses you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as he softly moves his lips against yours as he kisses you sweetly.

“goodnight”, he says softly, sweetly. “goodnight”, you whisper back, stealing another kiss from wonwoo before you retreat back inside.

the next week when wonwoo comes to your house in the morning there’s something different about him, in his demeanour and the way he acts. he strictly keeps to himself, not indulging in small talk with you at all, and brushing your hand off when you try to hold his hand. you felt hurt but decided to brush it off. maybe he had a reason for it, but the thought that he’d be so blunt about it hurt. you wanted to ask him but you didn’t. you decide to go see your father today at the detention centre he was being kept at. you had gotten used to wonwoo’s silence but today it felt odd, suffocating almost, but you don’t say anything, suddenly feeling like a burden to wonwoo. 

you’re waiting for your father as you sit on the other end of the room, a plastic divider dividing you and him. you stand up as soon as he walks in and he gives you a small smile. he looks tired. 

“are you okay?”, you ask, sitting down. “i can manage," he says. 

“so things aren’t going in your favour”, you say, looking at your father. “i am aware”, he says.

“what about the company? and your business? what’s going to happen to that?”, you ask.

“yn, you know i always intended for you to take over the company at some point”, he says. “but maybe you’ll have to take over earlier than i thought”, he says. 

“what do you mean?”, you prompt.

“i mean that you will have to take over”, he says. “it is going to be hard, there are going to be obstacles and people are going to try and bring you down but i have faith and trust in you”, he says. 

“what if i’m not ready”, you say.

“i’ll always be here and you know what they say, fake it till you make it”, your father tells, making you chuckle as you hold back your tears.

“jeonghan was asking about you giving him the power of attorney”, you say as you see your father's gaze change. 

“no, if i were to give anyone the power of attorney right now, it should be you”, he says.

“but don’t you trust jeonghan? i’m sure he’ll be able to help run things until i’m ready to take over”, you say.

“i wouldn’t trust anyone right now”, your father says. “i would rather have my own child act on my behalf than jeonghan”, he says. “a power of attorney is a powerful thing and i would trust you with it more than jeonghan”, he says and you nod as you take in his words.

that evening wonwoo leaves again, and he was still cold towards you. you decided to bring it up to him tomorrow because it was starting to make you feel weird, uneasy and bad. the next day, your doorbell rings a few times. you wonder why wonwoo hasn’t bothered just entering your house like he always has. was this a new thing now? you really had to talk this out with him. 

“wonwoo what are-”, you start but stop because the person in front of you wasn’t wonwoo. “who are you?”, you ask. “i’m your new bodyguard from today”, he says. you look him up and down because he didn’t look very bodyguard material. 

“what happened to wonwoo?”, you ask, taken aback by this. he just shrugs. “i don't know, jeonghan sent me so you should talk to him”, he says before stepping in, uninvited if you had to say. 

you go to your room to fetch your phone and come back to see the guy just sitting on your couch, scrolling through his phone, wow. talk about being professional. 

you glare at him as you dial jeonghan. he picks up after a few rings. 

“what happened to wonwoo?”, you ask, not wasting a second.

“no hi?”, he says, sensing the urgency in your voice.

“where’s wonwoo”, you ask again.

“wonwoo quit”, jeonghan says like it was no big deal.

“what do you mean he quit?”, you ask in shock. “he quit yn, he told me a few days back. he said he didn’t want to work for you anymore”, he adds, making your heart drop.

“but why, there must have been a reason right?”, you ask jeonghan.

“i think it’s for the best yn, and besides, i told you not to get too close to him”, jeonghan says and you didn’t like the tone of his voice.

after that you call wonwoo but he doesn’t pick up but you keep calling. he couldn’t just quit on you like that. there must have been a reason. and you think back to yesterday and how he was acting so cold towards you for the last few days. you tear up at the thought. why? why would he do that? did he really just use you?

you watch as your new bodyguard sits on your couch lazily, not even bothered about trying to do his job right. you were pretty sure that if you went out the door right now, this guy wouldn’t even notice. you roll your eyes at the thought and sigh.

“i’m going to see jeonghan”, you tell. “sure, i guess i should drive you right, just let me finish this level, i’ve almost cracked it”, he says. he was not being serious right now.

after five minutes you get his attention. “excuse me?? can we go or shall i go myself?”, you ask. “i’m coming jeez, you’re so stuck up”, he says. 

as soon as you burst into jeonghan’s office, he looks at you with a glint in his eyes. 

“what do i owe this pleasure to”, he says.

“you could have at least hired a competent replacement, this new guy sucks actually, he doesn’t even have basic manners”, you tell jeonghan. 

“he was the best replacement i could find”, jeonghan tells nonchalantly and you scoff.

“best replacement? you’ve got to be kidding me right now. wonwoo was the best and he was actually qualified. this guy looks like someone you just picked off the street”, you argue.

jeonghan doesn’t say anything as he filters through the stack of papers on his desk, finding what he was looking for before he looks back up at you. “did you ask your father about the power of attorney thing?”, he asks, changing the topic.

“i did and he wasn’t too keen on it. he said he’d rather give me the power of attorney power than you”, you say but jeonghan doesn’t seem fazed at all. 

“i expected that, so why don’t we start processing the papers to give you power of attorney. and then you can transfer it to me right? i can hold fort until you’re ready”, he says, more like he’d had it all planned out rather than asking you.

“i’ll process the papers to make you power of attorney for now”, he says. “okay”, you say. “now if you’ll excuse me, i have a lot of work of work to do”, he tells. 

“what did wonwoo tell you when he quit”, you quickly ask. 

“yn we are not going there”

“just tell me, please”

“he said he didn’t want to work for you anymore”, jeonghan says.

“that’s all he said?”, you ask.

“yes”, and suddenly all your hopes sink.

you get back home and in the following days you just stay at home. you were somehow on the news these days, and for the dumbest reason really, it was like people were trying to nitpick you apart and post things about you. you called wonwoo again and texted him a bunch of times but there was not one single response. you couldn’t believe that wonwoo would do something like that, after all you guys shared. it broke your heart really.

and to say your new bodyguard was incompetent was an understatement. the other day he couldn’t even protect you from being mobbed or spot the paparazzi that you caught in a blink of an eye. you wanted wonwoo, you missed him.

you go to jeonghan’s office and go to the detention centre again to get the power of attorney transferred to you because your dad also had to be present. 

your dad carefully reads the document, making sure everything was right, even the fine print that people tend to ignore before deeming it legal and everything was good. he signs it and puts his stamp on it and so do you.

“use this power wisely yn, i’m trusting you”, he says and you nod.

when you reach home, you’re just waiting for the new guy to go. 

“give me your phone”, the new guy says, coming up to you and he doesn’t even wait for you to answer before he’s plucking your phone out of your hand. 

“what the hell?”, you ask, trying to take your phone back but he doesn’t let you.

“no more phone for you for the time being, jeonghan’s orders, with all these headlines about you going around he says it’s for the best”, he says.

“no give me my phone back”, you demand but he grabs your hand, pushing you towards your room, slamming the door shut and you hear the lock engage. you try to open the door but it doesn’t.

“hey open this door right now”, you tell, beating your hand on the door. “that’s not going to change anything”, he says, chucking as you hear his footsteps around the hallway.

“she’s locked up”, he says, talking to someone on the phone.

“let me out”, you yell again, banging your fist on the door again. 

“shut it”, he says, kicking the door, only prompting you to bang your fist on the door harder. 

but after no avail you stop, sinking to the ground, tears already welling in your eyes. your life just really kept getting shitty and shittier didn’t it. 

you open your eyes as you hear the key rattle on the other side, the doorknob rattling and the door opening. you’re quick to stand up.

“what the fuck is wrong with you”, you yell but the new guy doesn’t seem fazed at all. “he wants to see you”, he tells, grabbing your hand but you pull it out of his grip. “move”, he demands and you reluctantly move towards the hall and your eyes go wide at who you see - jeonghan. 

“did you do this?”, you ask, in shock.

“i have to get things done don’t i yn”, he says, giving you that creepy smile again. “and now you’re going to be a good girl and sign these papers”. he says, holding out in front of you.

“what is that”, you ask. “the transfer of power of attorney from you to me”, he says. 

“there’s no way in hell i’m doing that after what you just fucking did”, you spit out, getting upset.

“getting feisty now are we? let’s not forget that your father’s fate lies in my hands and if you do not sign this paper right now, i will send your father to rot in jail for the rest of his life”, he says, threatening you. 

“what-you can’t-you wouldn’t”, you say.

“oh believe me yn, i would. so choose. your father goes to jail or you sign these papers and save his life”, he demands. 

“why are you doing this”, you ask bitterly.

“because your father is an idiot and this is the one time i’ve outsmarted him”, jeonghan tells, smug. 

“what are you talking about? if you want money give me a number, i’ll give it to you, just stop all this”, you plead.

“oh i’ll get my money yn, but i need to see your father crumble down, that’s what he deserves”, jeonghan says.

 he thrusts the papers towards your face. “sign it”, he demands. 

“over your dead body, i’m not signing shit jeonghan”, you spit back. 

“i don’t think right now is the time to be rebellious yn”, he says, pursing his lips in a thin line.

“oh i’ve always been rebellious jeonghan and i’m not going to let you get away with this”, you tell. 

“i doubt that”, he tells, signalling for the bodyguard as he grabs your arm and drags you to your room, pushing you inside and locking the door again. 

“think again yn, you’re only getting out of here when these documents are signed and by then it’ll be too late to do anything”, jeonghan says from the other side of the door.

“fuck you jeonghan, you just wait, i’m gonna get you”, you spit out.

you hear him say something only catching the last words being ‘don’t let her out’ .

what the fuck was happening to your life. fuck. you bang your fist on the door, letting out your frustration, sinking to your knees as you try to hold it in, keep it together but you can't. you bang the door a couple more times as tears roll down your cheeks. and yet, the only person you could think of in this situation was wonwoo. only he could help you now, he would know what to do. but you had no means to contact him after your phone was taken away and you were now locked in the room.

you bury your head in your knees, trying to breathe and think. think yn and that’s when you get an idea - your laptop. it was synced to your phone contacts. you get up, rushing to grab your laptop, frantically opening it and you open the messages app and find wonwoo. all your previous texts to him are still unread. no you needed to find him, texting him wasn’t going to work right now. but the question was how? and that’s when you remember the thing jeonghan had sent you before , wonwoo’s resume, which had his address, bingo. 

you open your chat logs with jeonghan, scrolling up till the part when jeonghan had sent you wonwoo’s resume and just as you guessed, his address was on it. you grab a pen and jot down the address on a scrap piece of paper. but how were you going to get there? you looked up and at the window behind your desk. you get up, pushing your table to the side slowly trying not to make any loud noises, huffing and puffing. 

after you manage to push the table aside enough, you slide the window open and poke your head out, looking at the distance but the jump wasn’t too bad. you slowly swing your legs over, taking a breath before reaching down with your feet and them jumping. the only protection you had against the bare ground was your socks right now. you close the window behind you and look left and right. you slowly and quietly walk towards the back gate and open it slowly, making a quick escape and you jog down the road. you look at the address that’s now crumpled in your hand and it wasn’t too far. you didn’t have cash or anything on your to take the bus so walking you were.

fifteen minutes in and you're getting tired and you put on the hood of your hoodie, hoping no one would recognise you but continue speed walking to the address in your hand. wonwoo would know what to do. wonwoo could help you. wonwoo. you start picking up your speed as you walk without even realising and soon you're running, your legs are working on their own, desperate for an escape and to find wonwoo. after sprinting and jogging for a bit you finally come up to the address, his apartment and you bend down, resting your hands on your knees as you try to catch your breath.

you’re about to walk in when security stops you. “i’m here to see wonwoo, he lives here right”, you ask between breaths. 

“mr. jeon? are you his guest?”, the security asks.

“yes, yes, please which building does he live in”, you ask, pulling your hood down in an aim to not let the man recognise you.

“wouldn’t you know that if you know him?”

“please, it’s urgent”, you ask. “he knows me i swear”, you tell. “it's an emergency just, please tell me”, you plead.

the man finally tells you the information and you sprint to the building and run up the stairs, not bothering to wait for the elevator to come. you open the staircase door, entering the main floor, your chest heaving from the effort of running up the stairs. you were lucky you didn’t fall on your face at the pace you were going at. you locate his door number and you stand in front of it and suddenly you’re scared. what if he didn’t open the door? what if he wasn’t here? you can hear your heart pounding in your chest as you raise your hand to ring his doorbell. a few moments pass and nothing and you ring it again and again. shit was he not home?

you take a step back, your head down, suddenly feeling defeated when you hear the doorknob rattle and the door opens. you look up and wonwoo is in front of you. he was really here. you found him.

“yn?”, he asks, as he adjusts the glasses on his face as if he couldn't believe it was you at his doorstep. you get hit with a wave of emotions at that minute and wonwoo is asking you something but you’re not listening as your vision gets blurry and all you can do in that moment in crash into wonwoo’s arms as you start to sob in his chest, the impact making wonwoo stumble before he held onto you. you weren’t crying because you were upset, you were crying because you felt relief - relief that you finally found wonwoo.

you pull away from him and look up and he finally sees the state you’re in, bare feet and he’s quick to spot the bruises on your knuckles and hands from banging on the door as you wipe your tears. wonwoo looks you up and down as he takes both your hands in, his expression suddenly dark as he looks at you. 

“who did this to you”, he asks sternly as another tear escapes you.

“j-jeonghan”, you stutter out through a sob. “they’re working together and t-they locked me in the room”, you tell and you can see the rage burning behind wonwoo’s eyes.

“jeonghan did this?”, he asks, anger seething in his eyes and you nod.

“he’s-he’s been behind all this the whole time, the whole reason my father is in jail a-and he was threatening me”, you tell in a rush, not making a coherent sentence.

wonwoo pulls you in a hug, holding you tight. “where were you, why did you leave?”, you demand through a broken sob as the door behind you closes. “i missed you”, you tell softly, your voice cracking as a few more sobs escape you.

“fuck, i missed you too”, he says as he hugs you tighter. you feel something soft rub around your legs and look down, seeing wonwoo’s cat near your feet. “your cat”, you say as you sniffle.

you’re on the couch now, wonwoo giving you new socks and slippers to wear as freshen up, washing your face and feet. wonwoo’s cat is inquisitive of you, sitting on the floor in front of you as she looks at you. “hi oreo”, you say and she meows, making you smile. 

wonwoo busies himself in the kitchen as he makes you some chamomile tea to help you calm down and sets the steaming mug in front of you. wonwoo also sets down an envelope next to the mug, signalling for you to open it. you look at him before your hand reaches out for the envelope and you open it, the contents inside making you gasp.

“what’s this?”, you ask, as you sift through the pile of photos, each one making you upset and even more confused. they were pictures of you and wonwoo at the hotel that night after the event, but the person who took them captured you wonwoo sharing a kiss and you sleeping in his wonwoo’s arms. you feel a surge of rage in your body as you look at this.

“this is what jeonghan gave me and he tried to blackmail me with this”, wonwoo says, breaking the silence. “he threatened me with these, saying if i didn’t quit that he would give these photos to the press. i don’t know what he was planning but i did what he said because i didn’t want you getting hurt”, he says. “the bastard probably had someone tail us and take this”, he adds.

“i know it was sudden but there was nothing i could do, he was strict on not making any sort of contact with you afterwards. he said he was watching me and that otherwise these pictures would get leaked in a second if i contacted you and i didn’t want that. i don’t know what sort of twisted sick game he’s playing but i didn’t want you waking up one day and seeing these pictures in the headlines. you’re already going through hell right now and this was the least i could do to protect your reputation, to protect you”, he says, his hand finding yours as he gives it a small squeeze.

‘i’m going to kill jeonghan i swear to god”, you mutter under your breath. 

“we have to help my father, we have to do something, you’ll help me right?”, you ask, pleading almost.

“of course yn. i was dying everyday i couldn't see you or tell you what really happened, i was just praying you wouldn’t hate me for it”, he tells.

after things between you both get cleared up, you promptly end up falling asleep, curled up in his arms on the couch. when you were with wonwoo you felt safe, secure, like the world was going to be okay, that you were going to be okay. wonwoo gently carries you to his bed, tucking you in as he slips inside the sheets beside you, watching you sleep and he vowed to himself - that no matter what, he was going to protect you.

you stir awake in the morning in wonwoo’s soft sheets, turning around and seeing the other side of the bed empty. you walk outside, seeing wonwoo busy in the kitchen as he sets a pot on the table. he spots you.

“good morning”, he says and you give him a small smile. “morning”, you tell as you move closer to wonwoo, seeing the small breakfast spread laid out on the table. you hear a meow, followed by another and another. 

“someone is hungry”, you joke as you look at oreo waiting for wonwoo to give her food. 

“she’s usually patient, aren’t you oreo”, wonwoo says and oreo meows in agreement and protest. you chuckle, this side of wonwoo was adorable.

you both sit down to eat and you’re grateful for the meal, later insisting that you help wonwoo clean up and wash the dishes, even though he insists you don’t need to but your stubbornness wins and he leans on the side of the counter as he watches you wash the dishes, looking defeated.

just then there’s a knock on the door. wonwoo stands alert and checks who it is. 

“it’s jeonghan” wonwoo says softly.

“shit, what do we do?”

“go to my room, close the door and stay there till i tell you to come out”, wonwoo instructs and you’re quick to go to his room, closing the door.

wonwoo opens his front door and jeonghan stands there looking irritated.

“what is it?”, wonwoo asks, giving jeonghan a cold stare.

“where’s yn?”, he asks, running a hand through his hair, frustrated.

“how should i know”, wonwoo says.

“listen wonwoo, lying right now is not going to help”

“i don’t know where yn is”, wonwoo repeated.

“if she contacts you, you tell me right away, got it”, jeonghan says as he points a finger at wonwoo.

“did something happen?”, wonwoo asks, trying to assess the situation.

“oh nothing, yn just seems to have gone off without informing anyone, i was just worried”, he tells, giving wonwoo a fake smile before leaving.

you hear the door close, wonwoo telling you that jeonghan was gone. 

“he’s looking for you alright. i think it’s better you don’t go out for the time being. you can stay with me till then and we can come up with a plan together okay”, he says, one hand caressing your cheek. you nod. 

later that day, wonwoo says he’ll hire a new lawyer for your father and appeal to the court and also indict jeonghan. but the only problem was that how were you going to prove everything that jeonghan was doing? if you only had that evidence it would also help in proving your father innocent. 

“i could hire someone to raid his house maybe”, wonwoo says.

“what, you can do that?”you asked him, shocked but liking the idea.

“i mean he’s not playing fair either is he? let’s mess with him a little”, wonwoo says.

“but how will you find someone to do that?”, you ask curiously.

“i have connections sweetheart”, he tells. “i’m an impressive man you know”, he adds and you smile. “i'm sure you are”.

over the next few days, things move quickly. wonwoo makes the required arrangements and the meeting with the new lawyer is online because jeonghan likely putting someone to stakeout and watch wonwoo’s place in case you showed up. wonwoo is smart to keep the curtains drawn at all times so no one could peek inside either. the first priority was indicting jeonghan which would make him suspend him from working, and your father’s case would have more time and more time right now was good. 

the next week jeonghan is indicted, and a legal notice is sent to his office courtesy of the impressive new lawyer that wonwoo hired. with the indictment jeonghan could not go anywhere, he couldn’t flee or travel and he’d be called for a formal court hearing on wednesday. as you got ready on wednesday morning to go to the court hearing because you were the one indicting jeonghan so you had to be there. you were nervous, standing in front of the mirror in wonwoo’s room. wonwoo was accompanying you too of course, he wasn’t going to let you go out there alone when you were going to go fight. you were going to show the world who you really were.

you reach the courthouse where the hearing will take place and it seems like everything is already on the news, the hoard of journalists and news reporters already crowding the place. you walk inside with wonwoo and head to the courtroom. as soon as you enter you see jeonghan, who clenches his jaw as he makes his way towards you, clearly upset and shocked.

“yn what the hell is all this”, jeonghan nearly shouts, his hand reaching out to grab yours but wonwoo grabs his hand instead, stopping him. 

“watch it jeonghan”, wonwoo warns as jeonghan pulls his arm out from wonwoo’s grip.

“you’re not going to get away with all this”, you tell.

the hearing starts and you’re sitting with wonwoo’s lawyer and beside you on the other side is jeonghan and his lawyer.

“miss yn has made an indictment to mr. yoon over criminal activity and fraud”, the judge says, looking at you.

“yes your honour”, your lawyer fills in.

“what is the accused stand on this matter?”, the judge asks.

“my client mr.yoon is not guilty your honour”, jeonghan’s lawyer says and you scoff, glaring at him.

“does the plaintiff have evidence to support these claims?”, the judge asks.

“not yet but we are working on it”, your lawyer explains.

“i request the charges against my client to be dropped because they are completely baseless and defamatory”, jeonghan’s lawyer demands.

“given the nature of the accusations and that mr.yoon is also a well known person in his respective industry, i will give the plaintiff one week to gather sufficient evidence otherwise the charges and case will be dropped due to lack of evidence”, the judge grants before dismissing the court.

you’re laying wonwoo’s bed lost in thought. now the only problem was trying to find evidence. sure, you could still testify but without any evidence, your claims would be useless. there had to be a way and you were sure you were missing a vital piece of information. if only there had been cameras you think and it hits you. you get up in a gasp. that was it, the cctv cameras at your home. you get up, rushing to find wonwoo, who’s in the other room doing something on his computer. 

“i figured it out wonwoo”, you tell and he looks up at you. “the cctv cameras you installed at my home, they would have captured jeonghan on it and what he did”, you say and you watch wonwoo’s eyes light up as he follows what you’re saying. 

“he was at your house that night?”, he asks.

“yes! and the cameras would have picked it up”, you say.

“and it must have picked up on the audio too”, he states.

"audio?", you ask.

"yes, i installed one's that recorded audio too", he fills in. “yn this is amazing”, he adds “and the best part, i have access to the cctv cameras”, wonwoo adds.

“i just hope jeonghan didn’t get to them”, you tell, worried.

“no, he doesn’t know about them, i didn’t tell him”, wonwoo says.

“you are a genius”, you tell, leaning down to pepper his cheek with a kiss.

“i could say the same thing about you”, he tells, his hands finding your waist. 

you smile, looking down at him, frowning when you notice the fingerprints on his glasses. your hands move up, carefully sliding them off as you clean them with the corner of your shirt, asking how he could even see as you gently put the glasses back on his face. 

“we might have found some information from jeonghan’s computer and files”, wonwoo adds. “i’ll pass it on to my lawyer, he’ll handle it”. 

“do you think we can pull this off?”, you ask wonwoo, your hands resting on his shoulders as you look down at him, wonwoo still seated on his chair.

“i think we can”, he tells, assuring you.

that night, wonwoo filters through the cctv footage to that night and just like you’d predicted, the whole incident where he came to your home and basically confessed what he was doing was recorded, the audio was impeccable too. jeonghan could kiss his life goodbye now. wonwoo hands off this evidence to his lawyer and now you can just wait.

it’s finally the day. you were ready but also nervous and anxious. a thousand what if’s went through your mind as you got ready that morning. you had been informed that your father would also be present at the court hearing since the case indirectly involved him. wonwoo drops you off at the court that morning.

“where are you going?”, you ask, grabbing onto his hand.

“the lawyer just called me, i need to quickly pick up something for him, but i’ll be back okay”, he assures. you nod and wait outside. there was still time for the hearing to take place in 30 minutes approximately. 

wonwoo isn’t back even after your lawyer arrives. you’re constantly checking your watch and seeing the time, looking out to see if you can spot wonwoo but you can’t see him. 

“i can’t see wonwoo? didn’t he come with you?”, the lawyer asks and you furrow your brows in confusion.

“what do you mean? he told me you called him asking him to get something”, you tell and he looks back at you equally confused. “i did no such thing”, he says. 

you fish out your phone and try to call him but it goes unanswered. you try again but no answer. 

“yn it’s time, let’s go”, your lawyer says and you put your phone back inside, hoping wonwoo was okay.

-at court-

“your honour, if you look here, you will see the cctv footage of mr.yoon and his men who were at my client's house on the night of the 8th. you can see the person, who was supposed to be yn’s bodyguard, lock up my client in the room and call mr.yoon, who arrives shortly. you can see clearly how mr.yoon threatened my clinet yn and even confessed to what he’s been doing, saying that he intentionally manipulated and betrayed yn’s father and set him up because he has an ulterior motive”, your lawyer states. 

the video of that night plays and there’s no way that anyone would not believe you anymore. it was clear as crystal what jeonghan was up to now and his true motives were revealed.

“does the defendant have anything to say?” the judge asks. 

“yes, i’d like to cross examine the client”, jeonghan lawyer says, stepping up and coming up to the witness stand where you were sitting. after your cross examination is done the judge announces that the final verdict will be delivered next week, on friday. given the high profile individuals that were involved in the case, a prompt but careful decision would be made. friday is a week away from now. the court is adjourned and you get up and leave, jeonghan purposely bumping into you as you go out, giving you a smirk.

you pick up your phone and call wonwoo again and the call is finally answered. “wonwoo where are you?”, you ask.

“hello is this someone that mr.jeon is acquainted with?”, the other person on the line asks, a female.

“yes, can i know who this is?”

“i’m calling from goodwill hospital, mr. jeon has been in an accident”, she says and your heart drops.

your feet start moving on their own as you run outside, pushing through the crowd of reporters and almost tripping as you try to hail a taxi, on your way to the hospital. you rush into the hospital asking for wonwoo at the front desk. you’re guided to his room, where the doctor explains that he was extremely lucky and only suffered from minor injuries. he would need a few days of rest and he could then be discharged. you’re instantly relieved to hear that but you’re still anxious. 

you peek into his room, slowly sliding the door open as you walk in, taking in his state and you instantly teared up. you sit beside him, reaching out to hold his hand as you keep your head down, looking at your hand on top of his. a couple of minutes pass by and you feel a soft squeeze of your hand and you look up seeing wonwoo awake.

“wonwoo”, you are relieved he was awake. “are you okay-shit no that’s a stupid question, you’re obviously not okay”, you tell in a rush.

he sits up slowly, wincing in pain but otherwise keeping a straight face.

“what happened?”, you ask softly. 

“i got jumped by jeonghan’s men. i only figured when i was already back at the apartment that the call was indeed not the lawyer”, wonwoo explains.

“shit”, you say.

“i shouldn’t have let you go, i should have insisted you stay”, you tell, feeling like this was all your fault now. 

“hey, hey look at me”, wonwoo says. 

“i just don’t want you to end up getting hurt because of me”, you tell. 

“i’m okay yn, i’m a tough guy you know”, he says, trying to lighten the mood.

after he’s rested enough and the doctors deem him okay, he’s discharged and you take him home. you tell wonwoo all about the court hearing today and now the only thing you could do was wait.

-final hearing-

the media has been on fire the last few days, jeonghan’s case gaining the entire country's attention. but even then, people were 50/50 about the chances of who would win even though the evidence was pretty clear. but you could never tell, the law wasn’t always fair sometimes and you just prayed that it would be fair to you. wonwoo was much better now and was healing well and he insisted on accompanying you, even though you told him he should stay at home and rest. 

you’re sitting in front, jeonghan on the opposite side and the court house was crowded, the media causing an uproar outside, eager to report every single second and eager to find out the final verdict of the case. the judge looks at you, and then at jeonghan before they announce the verdict.

“given the high profile of the case and the evidence submitted from both ends, we have carefully reviewed the evidence and points of this case. it has come to a unanimous decision that the defendant, mr. yoon jeonghan is found guilty and will serve ten years in jail and have to pay a fine as well for the damages done and emotional distress caused to the plaintiff. 

you cover your mouth in shock. you did it. you won! you couldn’t believe it as you cover your mouth in shock, tears filling your eyes. your father looks at you and the look he gave you was nothing short of proud. you won, your father was going to be free and jeonghan was going to go to jail, he was going to get punished and things were going to be okay now.

as people start filtering out, you’re looking for wonwoo, whom you can’t seem to spot anywhere. you had to tell him. through the crowd, you manage to head out of the courtroom where people start congratulating you and your father. but you were only focused on finding wonwoo.

you run out, only to end up getting ambushed by all the news reporters and journalists, all of them eager to know your thoughts as they bombard you with questions.

“how do you feel yn?”

“how does it feel to know your father is free”

“please share a few words”

you were being bombarded with questions that were going straight through your head and that’s when you heard someone call out your name - wonwoo. you turn around, spotting him on the other side, a few feet away from you. you smile and run towards him, running into his arms as he picks you up and spins you around.

“we did it”, you whisper, your face inches away from his. “we did it”, he repeats, giving you a proud smile. you lean in, kissing him, not caring about what people were going to think anymore. wonwoo kisses you back with the same fierceness, like he was telling you that he was going to stand by you, so that you could conquer the world with him.

-epilogue-

after your father was dropped from all the accusations and was free, his company was slowly starting to gain traction again. the people were now in support of him, now more than ever and people wanted to know his story. but he always said one thing - that he wouldn't have been able to do it without you by his side. you ended up finally graduating college after your father approached them and they did give you extra credits for the trouble they caused you. you’d gotten your own office space in your dad’s building to work from and you were on your way to build your own company that stood for what it believed it.

you’re standing in front of wonwoo in your office with your arms crossed over your chest as you stare him down. he only stands, blinking down at you.

“what is it love?”, he asks.

“we can’t do this anymore wonwoo”, you tell and a wave of emotion seems to go through wonwoo’s face.

“do what?”, he asks calmly.

“this!”, you say, gesturing your hands between him and you.

“i don’t want you to be my bodyguard anymore”, you state and he furrows his brows, confused. 

“what do you mean?”, he asks. “did i do something wrong?”, he asks, taking a small step towards you.

“i don’t need a bodyguard anymore”, you tell sternly.

“i beg to differ”, he says calmly.

“i want you to be my boyfriend”, you say and he raises a brow at this proposition.

“i thought i already was”, he mumbles as he bashfully pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“no more of this bodyguard business, you can be my full-time boyfriend now”, you tell and you can see the small smile playing on wonwoo’s lips.

“but isn’t a bodyguard and boyfriend in one an advantage?”, he asks.

“but i just want you to be my boyfriend instead”, you say, pouting.

“but the perks of having a bodyguard and a boyfriend is truly one of a kind”, he says, stepping closer as hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“oh really?”, you ask, tilting you heard to the side.

“and what might that be?”, you ask, settling your hands on wonwoo’s shoulders.

“you know, i can protect you, plus you get to see my handsome face 24/7”, he says and you snort. 

“what i know you love it. if i had a dollar everytime i caught you staring at me-”, 

“shut up”, you tell, giggling.

“and the most important perk of all, free kisses”, he tells and you chuckle even more. “what? you’re always stealing kisses from me and-”, you cut him off by kissing him, which only seems to prove the point he was making.

“see, you can’t do that”, he tells, leaning in.

“why not”, you ask, playing along.

“because you’re distracting me from my work”, he says, leaning in and kissing you again.

“that’s why you need to stop this bodyguard stuff and just be my boyfriend instead”, you whisper against his lips. 

“but then you won’t see me 24/7”, he tells.

“but then i can distract you”, you fill in.

“hm we’ll see about that love”, he says, before he captures your lips and kisses you breathlessly.

the end

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#ahh #please lmk your thoughts on this <3! #sugar and spice by skye! #caratlibrary #k-labels #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #svt imagines #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo x reader #svt fluff #svt x reader #jeon wonwoo imagines #jeon wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo fluff #svt scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo fanfic #seventeen au #svt au

[gffa]

Thinking about this scene and, sure, it's a reference to the line "a more civilized age" in the original trilogy but also I really fucking love it as a metaphor. The Jedi are known for using their lightsabers, the weapon that is nearly synonymous with them, the one that takes a lifetime of training and the kind of precision that can only come from someone using the Force, that a lightsaber is a constant reminder that a Jedi must have care with everything they do because of their abilities, the things they can do. There's a reason the story group commented that, almost any time a lightsaber ends up in the hands of non-trained Force-sensitives, it ends badly. Here you have the final fight of the clone wars, this is General Grievous, this is the end of this war that has dragged them all through hell for the last four years, Obi-Wan was specifically sent because, with Dooku dead, Grievous was the last one standing that could rally the Separatists, this was it, this was the end. This is how the Clone Wars ends--with a Jedi stripped of his precise, controlled weapon and grasping for a less than perfect solution because this needs to finally fucking be over, he needs to goddamned finish this. I love this as a metaphor for the Jedi's position in the war--if Obi-Wan doesn't grab that blaster, Grievous is going to hit him with that Electrostaff and he's going to die. His lightsaber is flat-out not an option. The Jedi's choices are whittled down to: Imperfect solution or die. So he chooses the imperfect solution because it's better than death, it's better than letting Grievous go, and there's still so much to be salvaged from this. He doesn't use his Jedi weapon, but it's not like he's suddenly no longer a Jedi because of it, he will still be a Jedi at heart and will still go back to doing his best to hold up their ideals. This is why Lucas says, "Are [the Jedi] going to stick with their moral rules and all be killed, which makes it irrelevant, or do they help save the Republic?“ (Star Wars Archives 1999-2005) I like this moment as a metaphor because I see it as illustrating the point of the Jedi's involvement in the war: It's not perfectly the Jedi way, it's them stripped of their preferred methods, but the heart of the reasoning is the same, that if they don't fight, if they don't take the less shitty option, then everyone dies. Obi-Wan ending the war with a blaster rather than a lightsaber, because it was either that or die, is a fun callback to the OT, but also shows the two paths placed in front of them, the lack of options available, and just what exactly was on the line.

#obi wan kenobi #general grievous #jedi order #meta

[melonnmiru]

being a professional volleyball player had gotten kiyoomi an onslaught of— albeit, somewhat unhinged, fans.

he'd never say he hated his fans. in fact, he appreciated their constant support for his growth as both a person and a way too attractive volleyball player. however, the way some of them would show their support was rather... unique for his standards.

the two of you were sprawled out on the couch, you mindlessly scrolling through tiktok, and him ultimately deciding to do the same. this was one of the few times he ever even went on the damn app and the first thing he's greeted with is an edit of him from his most recent game. he somehow felt inclined to open the comments but a part of him knew his scowl would only deepen if he did.

you leaned over and tried to smooth out the crease in between his brows with a hum. "you gotta give them credit, 'omi. you look really hot there."

"it's a 15 second video of me drinking water."

"still hot."

he rolled his eyes, switching his phone off and leaning on your shoulder. you went back to running through his hair with one hand, and scrolling on tiktok with the other.

while kiyoomi was mainly focused on how nice it felt to have your fingers gently carding through his hair, he was also listening along to the random audios that played each time you scrolled onto another video. eventually, a song oddly familiar to kiyoomi started up on your phone.

wait.

kiyoomi paused, turning to look up at you in a comically slow manner with a grimace painted on his face. you bit back a laugh at his sour expression, batting your eyelashes back at him. "what's wrong, my sweetheart, honeybunch, sugarplum, light of my life?"

"ignoring those disgusting pet names— is that the same edit i just saw?"

the familiar song played faintly as you offered him an innocent grin. you glanced at your phone then back at him, quickly swiping up. "edit? don't know what you're talking about."

alas, the algorithm knew you a bit too well. maybe it was coming after you with the fact yet another kiyoomi edit popped up after you swiped. the two of you stared at the screen silently, your thumb sliding over to press another button.

"...what a coincidence, huh 'om-"

"did you just favorite it?"

you didn't respond. he shifted closer to grab your phone, you leaned away. this ultimately led to you and kiyoomi wrestling for your phone. as you two were tugging at your phone, it slid to unsurprisingly, another kiyoomi edit.

"i'm gatekeeping these, get off!"

"they're literally edits of me!"

eventually, he decided to dig his fingers in your sides, causing you to break into what sounded like a mixture of a scream and manic laughter. he smiled triumphantly, using his free hand to grab your phone from your— now weak grasp and going straight to your favorites.

he scrolled through the random collection of cooking tutorials he knows you won't do, cat videos you've shown him multiple times, and of course, edits of him. from clips of him from interviews to his monstrous spikes, you had it all.

"this is— an invasion of privacy!" you whined, trying to get your phone back to no avail. kiyoomi looked through all your saved edits with an amused look. "think you might be even more obsessed than these fans." he teased, his shoulders shaking as a chuckle escaped his lips.

"god, can't someone enjoy videos of their jaw-droppingly handsome, gorgeous, hot, attractive boyfriend in peace?"

"not when you're right next to said handsome boyfriend, watching those videos on the highest possible volume."

you waved off his quip, "details, details." you propped your head on his shoulder and watched in silent amusement as he regrettably decided to open the comments on one of the edits. he's not even sure how some of these comments slipped past community guidelines, while some were rather tame, gushing about how good he looked, some were so depraved he thought he was going to get permanent frown lines just by looking at them.

"if you though that was bad, you should see what i say on twitter."

for the sake of his sanity, kiyoomi decides against checking your twitter account.

my 31 pending school reqs will not stop me from kiyoomi posting!!

#♡ crumpled paper #i dont like this 1 but i cant bring myself to work on it anymore its been like 2 weeks 😭😭 #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x you #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa fluff

[dmercer91]

i would, lh43

you and luke really like to piss each other off.

or

four times you and luke almost kiss and the one time it finally happens

this is toxicity, angst and a little fluff all rolled into one. enjoy! <3 (7.6k) this is very much not proofread

one.

you were sure luke hughes was one of life’s greatest mysteries. to put it lightly, he was sweet until he wasn’t. 

you’d warned him before the two of you started dating in your shared freshman year that you’d been through a lot.

you warned him that sometimes you needed a minute alone, that sometimes you could self-destruct, and that sometimes you lost yourself in your brain and that someone else would take over for a while

he promised you that he’d work with you, that he understood what you were explaining and that he could surely handle it. 

he promised he’d do anything he could to help you get back into your head whenever you felt out of it, that he’d keep his head on straight for the both of you so that the two of you could work through rough stages.

clearly you hadn’t prepared him well enough, or clearly he overestimated his level headedness. 

it sucked for the both of you that you still had to see each other every day, regardless of whether or not he was on the road, cause you’d be there too. 

you’d been warned by every girl in every stage of life that dating in the workplace was a horrible idea. you promised them it was hardly work, you weren't even around that much. you were wrong again.

when the two of you broke up, you opted to stay with the team as the media intern. after all, you agreed to be friends. 

that went sour quickly, because all the arguing that took place in the confines of his dorm or your sisters apartment carried onto your friendship, and consequently in the halls of yost.

the more the two of you would argue, the more you both got petty. 

today was no different, and you weren’t trying to work him up on purpose, but when the opportunity arose you took it and ran.

a trend on tiktok had started, talking about red flags. the monday question you chose was something along the lines of ‘what is your weirdest / stupidest red flag’ 

most of the players responded as you expected them to - something like mixing jams on their toast or putting hot sauce on their bagels.

you weren’t even expecting him to acknowledge you, because since the breakup, luke had avoided monday questions, as well as your camera, altogether. 

you weren't sure what had pissed him off today, or what was going through his brain when he decided he was gonna be sour right off the bat, but his response was surely something.

“my ex girlfriend is an obsessive bitch,” you covered your mouth to keep yourself from laughing. you knew he was just being an asshole for the purpose of trying to get to you, but the words truly sounded unnatural coming from his mouth.

luke figured you would delete the video and move on with your day, get back at him with some mean comment another time, but instead you decided to take it a little further than he was intending.

after practice was over, you sat in the cubby a few down from his and began to edit the videos you’d taken of the boys together, and you saved it. then, you took the new video and added the clip of luke to the end, playing on full volume and repeating itself as you pretended to adjust the beginning to the previous clip of dylan running away.

the few guys that were left in the dressing room looked at eachother, and luke was already staring you down.

the rest of the team had learned to tune the two of you out. seeing as you were friends with most of them even before you dated luke, none of them chose sides and they all believed that eventually the two of you would get tired of pissing each other off and quit it. alternately, luke would just leave for jersey and peace would be restored. 

“what? why are you looking at me like that?” you mumbled defensively, eyeing him like he was a weirdo.

“you’re putting that in the actual video?” you raised an eyebrow, smile etched onto your face like it was drawn with a sharpie. what you weren’t expecting was for luke to take a deep breath, and look away.

you continued to edit the clip, up until the remaining players had all left yost and you felt luke’s eyes burning into your skull again.

he stood up calmly, and walked over to you.

you looked up at him and stood as well, slowly backing out of the doors in the dressing room. he followed, speeding up to keep you at an arms length

“delete that, y/n, i swear to god,” you realized he was trying to corner you, and though he physically outmatched you any day of the week, he was failing spectacularly at it.

you did your best at playing keep away with the umich media phone, and backed your way into the visitors dressing room.

“delete it? fat chance. i was actually thinking i might put it up, i can never seem to get content of you unless-“ you groaned as your back hit the wall, luke holding you against it with his hips

“unless i’m too pissed to shove the phone out of my face?” you grinned, slinging your arms around his neck and leaning into his touch, your chests pressed taught to each other so you couldn’t slip from his grasp.

“you know, if i get early onset back pain, i'm blaming you. now can we quit it with the dramatics? i have a very charming video of you to edit for the tiktok page” luke just pressed you closer to the wall, ignoring the grin you gave him to show how much you’d actually been liking the closeness.

“you wouldn’t,” he tried to grab the phone from your hands, placed behind his neck, but you were quick to tuck it into your bra so he couldn’t access it.

“i would.” his jaw clenched and you kept straight eye contact, loving how irritated he was getting so quickly.

“baby,” he stated, taking a deep breath.

“i was being a dick, and i’m sorry. but we don’t need to make that a public thing,” you bit your lip, pretending like you were contemplating it before you replied to him

“we’re using baby again?” he licked his lips, grabbing your hands from his shoulders and holding them.

his eyes softened and he paused before using what was probably the sweetest tone you’d ever gotten from him

“if you want me to use baby, yes, i’ll call you whatever you like”

“i’m not falling for that,” his soft, convincing face fell flat and his eyes went from hopeful right back to angry and endlessly frustrated

after a few moments standing there waiting for him to find a new game plan, you bit your lip and started messing with a few of his curls

“you ever miss me, lukey?” he pulled his head away from your hands, the gentle aspect of your touch giving him an unneeded reminder of  the fact that you could be a sweetheart, you were just choosing not to be

“not a chance in hell” you smiled to hide the pang in your chest, but he saw through you, holding the back of your head

“you’re always right here annoying me, hm? no time to miss you” he corrected, tracing circles on your scalp with his thumb. you poked your cheek with your tongue, looking down for a quick second before ultimately looking right back into his eyes, trying to read what he was thinking

this is what you assumed he was talking about when he used to always tell you he’d figure things out, that you’d always make up after a fight - that he’d look at you like this and see that you were struggling 

that he would feel what you were feeling for even just a split second and correct himself, even if he was lying, just to cover up the ache in your chest.

this, to you, was confirmation that he could read you like that. that he can see through any mask you put up and had truly just given up on you. 

he sighed, and you saw his eyes move to your lips, then back up to your eyes. he was leaning forward, and just like that, he was pulling away and clearing his throat.

“could you please delete the video for me? m’ sorry about how i spoke to you” your entire body felt cold without him against it, and you wished whatever thought in his mind that made him want to kiss you would’ve fucked off, so the two of you could’ve stayed pressed up against each other forever.

“i’m not that mean, lu. i’ll delete it” he smiled and ruffled your hair, walking away as quickly as possible.

it bears repeating; you were sure luke hughes was one of life’s greatest mysteries.

two

your favourite part about going to michigan, as well as being close with one of the sports teams, was the parties. 

you weren’t even sure how they pulled it off, but you couldn’t think of a single time you’d been invited to a umich party and didn’t have a night worth remembering (even if you could barely remember it).

tonight was no different, and it started with mark and ethan fighting over who got to be your partner in beer pong. 

you decided it would be a best of three challenge, and the loser was stuck with luke, who was notorious for only having aim once he was plastered enough to faint. the winner got to be with you, who had the ongoing win streak among the sophomores.

first was a game of rock paper scissors, that was promptly won by ethan, seeing as mark always went rock. 

he’d even mentioned before the challenge that he always lost since he always picked rock, so you’d told him to simply not pick rock - he did it anyways.

the second round was seeing who could shotgun the fastest, which was ultimately taken by mark when ethan got cocky and gave him a three second head start.

safe to say, mark had been almost done by the time ethan even had his lips over the hole in his can.

the third challenge was a headstand contest, mostly because you just wanted to see the two of them try to uphold a headstand for more than five seconds.

mark took that one on the guise that ethan had cheated and used the wall to keep himself up. if you could have made them both lose, you would have.

however, when you decided that ethan was in fact a cheater, mark cheered and tossed you over his shoulder, leading the group of you back to the beer pong table 

ethan was pouty about having to pair up with luke, and luke was pouty about having to be around you, but you and marks energies were off the charts regardless.

you all decided that you’d have to drink ethan’s cups, mark would have to drink luke’s, and vice versa.

luke started, and sunk one ball, but completely missed the other. 

mark quickly downed the drink and took the balls, missing the first off the rim of a bottom row cup, but sinking the second one perfectly. 

luke drank nonchalantly and handed the ball from his cup to ethan, who just barely missed both of his shots. you grinned to yourself, centring yourself to the table before taking your shot.

your turn was similar to marks, but your first ball had bounced just before the cup at the top row and landed into luke’s hand.

ethan drank the cup you got for your second shot, sending you a playful glare. 

“this should be you right now, marky. nobody said we couldn’t use the wall” you rolled your eyes, feeling mark sling his arm around your shoulders 

“i won fair and square, eddy. you’re just butthurt cause you suck at shotgunning and got too cocky” luke quickly took his turn so you’d all shut up, missing horribly on both shots.

you raised an eyebrow at him, silently wondering how his on ice hand eye coordination translated this horrendously in throwing a ping pong ball 

mark got two of his shots, but none in his balls back attempt, and luke quickly drank, a little more urgently this time around. 

ethan got one this time around, and you happily drank the contents of the cup, licking the foam of the beer from your lips once you were done. 

you also sunk two balls, but you got your second shot with balls back, leaving three cups on ethan and luke’s side and eight on yours.

ethan pouted before drinking his first cup, taking a short pause before cramming the next two one after the other. 

he caught his breath before looking over at you with beer dripping from his chin 

“i should’ve made hughesy drink your cups,” you giggled, and luke slapped him on the shoulder with a glare.

when the game came back around to you, they only had two cups left, and you got them both.

mark cheered loudly, rattling you around by your shoulders as you laughed at his reaction. 

you and mark had always been close. something about his energy just gave you the sense that you’d never have to stress about him. you were very much the ‘call each other babe platonically’ type of friends. 

he was easygoing and he just wanted to have a good time, but he was still a good friend if need be.

luke apparently hadn’t caught that memo, cause he looked like he was about ready to stab his teammate.

his jaw was clenched tight and he was just watching the two of you celebrate with complete dread on his face, while ethan finished off his beer

you picked up on it right away, and decided you’d chance luke being unbelievably pissed at you if it meant he might admit to himself he still had feelings for you.

“are we playing again?” you asked, looking up at mark who shook his head, pulling you away from the table.

“what? you want to get up to something else?” he grinned, earning a soft smile and a push to his chest.

“dance with me?” he nodded, grabbing one of the remaining cups from your side and pulling you towards the group of students essentially using the living room of soph house as a make out spot.

luke wasn’t one to dance, but mark was too drunk to care and you didn’t think he’d be leaving your side anytime soon, so you took advantage

he wasn’t half bad, the two of you mostly feeding off each other rather than the music. that was until his drink ran out, and he wanted another one.

“you want a beer, babe?” you nodded softly, tilting your head up and leaning it on his shoulder.

he smiled, kissing you on the cheek and noting that he’d be right back, quickly disappearing into the swarm of bodies towards one of the coolers.

“mark? really?” it was luke.

rather than bite back, you went with it, knowing he might be more annoyed if he thought you were genuinely going out with mark

you hummed, turning to face him. “he’s a sweetheart. maybe you could learn a thing or two” both of you knew that what you were saying was utter bullshit. regardless, luke was irked.

“are we thinking of the same mark?” he slid a finger into the belt loop of your jeans and pulled you forward, keeping you close to him and simultaneously letting you know his strength.

“handsome? fluffy hair? pretty solid with his mouth?” luke scoffed, looking behind you to make sure mark wasn’t almost back.

when his eyes came back down to yours they were dark, and he was wearing a harsh glare.

“you wouldn’t. you’re not” you smiled, almost giggling at him

“yeah, but i would, though. is your new girlfriend not at this party? thought i saw her working one of the football players. is this your thing? getting one upped by other athletes? is there an embarrassment kink im not aware of?”

before you could say anything else, his hand was over your mouth and he was grumbling at you to shut up

“not that it’s any of your business, i broke up with her. you need to start watching your fucking mouth” you pulled away from his hand, but he still had a tight grip on your jaw.

“if it was full maybe i’d stop talking,” you smiled, your facial expression almost challenging him

he licked his lips, thumb swiping over yours slightly in a way that made your heart jump out of your chest

he was leaning in and pulling your face to an angle where he could connect your lips, before his eyes flashed up and he saw mark coming back with a beer in one hand and a full bottle of liquor in the other.

“maybe your sweetheart mark will be up for that” he gave your jaw a squeeze before pushing your face away from his and walking off.

you put on a smile, turning around to see mark taking a swig of straight vodka.

“my lady,” he grinned, handing you your beer

you bit the cap off, drinking some of it before you hummed, pulling him towards you by the collar and resuming your dancing, back to his chest

“gimme some of that,” he giggled, putting the bottle in his hand up to your lips and guiding you through your swig

“luke came n’ saw you?” you nodded

“yeah.”

three

one of your favourite things to do in your free time was barge into soph house with absolutely no warning.

today, it was cause you and your other roommate had been momentarily kicked out of yours and your older sister's shared apartment so she had it to herself for her one year anniversary.

you announced your arrival when you walked in, your friend trailing behind you awkwardly while the boys shouted simultaneous greetings from the living room

“i brought a friend. it’s my sister's anniversary and there’s a metaphorical sock on our door,” your comment earned you chuckles from the group, and when you walked into the living room you scanned the furniture to see if there were two open spaces.

luke had been sitting by himself, mackie and dylan were sharing the loveseat, and ethan and mark were sharing the bigger couch. 

you tilted your head and squinted at ethan, who had been taking up two and a half cushions. he grinned in return, further stretching himself out so he’d been getting into marks personal space as well.

you opted to physically drag ethan from his spot, over so he’d just been taking up one cushion instead

he glared at you playfully, fighting back against your pushing until you were stuck pushing back against each other, causing the both of you to break out into laughter and for you to fall onto the couch

“scootch, edwards,” you worked out in between giggles, finally getting him to move over and sitting up yourself so there was some room for your friend 

when she sat, it was almost on top of you, since the couch wasn’t meant for four, and you could almost sense luke’s ears perking up like a dog being offered a treat

“you know if there’s not enough room over there i’m more than happy to share” he patted his lap, looking right at your roommate with a smirk playing at his lips.

you were quick to glare at him and shut the idea down, while mark pulled you into his own lap so your friend would have enough room, and hopefully so you and luke would drop it. 

your friend adjusted and then eyed luke, and then you

“i take it that’s luke,” you immediately slapped her arm and glared at her, knowing this would give luke enough ammunition to piss you off for however long you were at sophomore house 

you couldn’t even properly find time to warn him to forget he ever heard that before it started. 

“aw, baby, you tell your friends about me?” you smiled sarcastically, feeling mark grab the back of your shirt so you didn’t lunge at his teammate

“fuck right off, warren,” luke’s jaw ticked, and he opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by dylan 

“i’ll sit on your lap, lukey!” the group laughed, and luke tried to hide his smile. 

the sophomores had become extremely accustomed to changing the subject or interrupting you and luke when the two of you fought, seeing as you were over most days of the week

now that the room had become less tense, everyone was partaking in their own conversations.

you, ethan, mark and your friend had been talking about a class the four of you shared, while mackie, dylan and luke talked about the upcoming series against minnesota.

that continued until you felt your phone go off in your back pocket and pulled it out to see a text from your sister, telling you that you could make your way back to the apartment.

below it, to your shock, was a silenced text from luke.

from, luke hughes → kitchen?

to, luke hughes → ?

you looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed and heart pounding, and he was already looking at you.

you blinked and moved your eyes away, turning your head to mark who’d been deep in concentration listening to ethan.

“hey, my sister texted, we’re gonna get going” that caught the attention of dylan and ethan, which made mackie turn his head, and, well, luke had already been staring at you.

mark frowned, caging his arms around your waist to hug you. 

“it’s still early, you can stay,” you heard a jumble of voices agreeing with mark’s statement, and you could feel luke’s gaze burning through you.

you looked down at your roommate and she shrugged, since she’d accustomed pretty well to the sophomores already and wasn’t exactly dying to leave

“i’ll stay for free beer?” luke smiled to himself and made his way to the kitchen quietly, knowing nobody would really notice him while they were cheering at your words

you offered to go get everyone their bottles and got up, ruffling marks hair slightly before you walked over to their fridge and took out six beer, luke already sipping on one.

“you ask me over here to argue without getting interrupted?” luke grinned softly, taking three of the bottles and setting them on the island along with his own, nodding for you to do the same with the other three

you complied, and as soon as they hit the counter you were being backed up into it, his hips pinning you and his arms locking you in place 

“i just wanted to talk,” he explained, looking down at you with a sweet gaze that made your stomach turn 

“you know, you could’ve had mackie or duker sit on the other couch, fuck, you could’ve even pulled up a chair from the island or sat on the ground! but you just let him pull you into his lap like you're his?”

you rolled your eyes, trying to push his arm off the counter so you could squeeze away from him and bring everyone their drinks, but his grip tightened. 

“i’m talking to you, y/n,” he added pressure with his body so he could use a hand to make you look at him.

“how many times do i have to tell you i’m not sleeping with any of your friends?” you defended and he shrugged 

“i never said you were, i just pointed out that you two seem real fucking comfortable with each other lately,”

you sighed and cupped his neck with both hands, thumbs messing with the curls that fell behind his ears

“lu, nothings happening. nothing's going to happen. im not fucking mark just like you’re not actually gonna fuck my roommate,”

he didn’t react much, just kept staring into your eyes. 

“if not my friends then who are you with?” you smiled and shook your head 

“none of your business, hughesy.” he laughed dryly and moved his hand from your jaw around to the back of your neck, your faces so close his nose was brushing against yours.

your eyes both drifted to each other's lips, and you cleared your throat and backed your head away before he could kiss you. 

he moved off you and grabbed his beer, standing on the other side of the kitchen, now.

“maybe i’ll see you around your place, y/n,” he smirked before looking over at your roommate who was laughing at something dylan had said, and heading back to the living room 

“you wouldn’t,” you yelled after him.

“i would!” he called back, leaving you to groan to yourself and pick up the beers for everyone 

four

“adam! shea!” you smiled, trying to stand up off the bench you were on to go greet your friends, but tripping over the air and immediately deciding that you would be staying on the bench.

the two boys gave each other weird looks across the street from you, deciding to make their way over.

the two boys being luca and shea, who were obviously quite confused.

once they made their way there, they came to the conclusion that you were incredibly, extremely, outstandingly drunk.

“i want whatever she’s having,” luca chuckled, knowing he and his brother did not look alike in the slightest.

seamus slapped him up the back of the head, helping you to sit up properly and then taking his own place beside you to support your torso.

“dude, shut up. call mark, or eddy, even. we don’t know how long she’d been here” you were looking up at him, absolutely delirious and telling him about your childhood pet hamster that was named casey (like him!)

mark was down at the bus stop you were all sitting at in record time, now kneeling in front of you and trying to get an answer out of you as to why you were mind-blowingly wasted at two pm on a tuesday

when you just continued to murmur about nonsense, luca spoke up

“maybe we should bring her to luke?” seamus and mark both turned their heads to him very slowly, eyebrows raised and annoyance glaringly obvious in their eyes, and he lifted his arms in defence 

“i’m just saying! notice how all of their arguing is like, ultra petty? he never says anything that actually means shit. he definitely knows what's going on with her,”

they both thought about it, ultimately coming to the conclusion that it couldn’t do anymore harm than good - luke wasn’t a big enough dick to punch down, so maybe luca was right.

they looked at each other, “this is the worst idea anyone has ever had in the entire history of the university of michigan,” shea stated, already helping you onto your feet and having luca hold you up from the other side

“yeah,” mark nodded, texting luke a very vague message so that he’d be home and in the living room once the four of you got to soph house.

when you did, it was safe to say luke really did not want to have any part of it.

“no.” he shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest while he watched you fuss with seamus when he tried to set you on the wrong couch cushion, apparently. 

“wh-” mark tried to plead his case, but couldn’t even get a word out.

“no. not a chance, mark, just have her sleep it off, or something,” the two of them watched as luca brought you a water and you tried to convince him that you did have a water, only for him to open the lid and be hit with the smell of liquor. 

“hear me out,” mark started, giving luke a hopeful look and earning a confirming eye roll in return

“your friend needs help, and-” 

“your friend”

“fine, be like that! your ex, that you’re still in love with, by the way, needs help, and you’re the only one of us that has a chance in hell at knowing what it is that made her drink away her brain on a random fucking weekday, by herself, on the street,”

the room went silent, and even you had stopped rambling upon hearing the tone mark was using.

“so, if you could please just fucking talk to her for a minute to see if she gives you an idea? something? tells you what’s up? that would be glorious, luke,” 

luke clenched his jaw but looked over at you for a quick second, caving and nodding slightly 

“i’ll talk to her. alone, though,” he grumbled, and mark patted his shoulder, nodding to luca and seamus to go over to the kitchen 

he sat next to you, and you looked up at him, bringing your knees to your chest. 

“are you okay, y/n/n?” he asked softly, tilting his head at you. you blinked, clearly on the verge of blacking out

“luke,” you stated simply, earning a sad smile from him 

“what did i tell you about drinking to forget, hm?” he reached around you, burying his hand in your hair and massaging your scalp gently 

“said no,” you replied, barely above a whisper. you were hiding from his gaze, now.

he watched you for a moment, trying to see if there was anything on you to help him out. 

his eyebrows furrowed at the sight of your phone case, the polaroid that had been in the back of it since before he knew you now flipped so you couldn’t see what it was.

“can i see that?” he asked, pointing to your phone.

you handed it to him reluctantly, watching as he peeled the case off and slid the picture out from under it.

it was a picture of you and your father. you were just a baby, and your dad had been wearing a party hat and feeding you a bite of cake 

the back read; dads 31st birthday! 02/07/04

he turned your phone around and knocked his knuckle against the screen, reading the date once it lit up

tuesday, february 7

“oh, baby. cmere,” he mumbled, pulling you into his lap gently and holding your head to his chest.

your body shook against his as you sobbed, still painfully aware of the occasion no matter how inebriated you were

he held you still until you calmed down, and when he opened up the shield he’d made with his arms he found that you were sound asleep against him, face beet red and soaked with tears

he adjusted you slowly, lifting your arms around his shoulders so he could carry you without waking you up.

he looked over to mark who nodded with an appreciative smile, then carefully carried you upstairs and towards his room.

he set you down and took off your shoes, then grabbed a water bottle and some medicine for you, setting them down and slipping into bed next to you. 

you found your way to his chest and slept peacefully while he zoned out, brushing his hand through your hair soothingly.

when you did wake up, it was slowly and difficultly. it had been a few hours, your mouth felt dry and your head felt heavy.

you felt dizzy, but not from the hangover. from luke, holding you close to him.

you let out a noise of confusion, and luke stiffened, looking down at you.

rather than pay mind to the millions of emotions coursing through him, he decided to focus on sitting you up and getting you to drink some water.

you just listened, waiting to ask what the hell had happened until after you were feeling a little less undead.

“uh, luca and shea found you by one of the bus stops. you called luca adam, so they came up to you, n called mark” you looked down, tears brimming your eyes.

“oh.. okay,” you whispered, fidgeting with your own fingers awkwardly.

he gave you a minute to compose yourself before setting the polaroid on your lap 

“he would’ve been fifty today,” he stated softly, looking at where your eyes would have been had you been facing him.

you wiped your face roughly, groaning to yourself while luke silently begged you to look at him

“maybe we can take a little trip to go see him, yeah? i’ll stop at the store and we can get him a card n’ some flowers,” he offered, rubbing your upper back soothingly 

“you’d do that for me?”

“i would. or i can explain everything to mark, and he can take you, if you wanted?” you shook your head quickly 

“no. no, uh,” you sniffled, taking the water he’d gotten you from his night stand and sipping carefully from it 

“the whole reason i like being around him so much is that he doesn’t know everything, and he doesn’t need to know everything,” you explained, finally looking up at him with glossy eyes and a red nose

“i can zone out for a minute and he won’t ask me if i’m okay, he’ll just slap the back of my head and tell me i need a nap,” you chuckled 

you’d made it a point to keep the shitty aspects of your life away from mark. 

he knew you’d been through a lot, but he didn’t know any details and he never asked about it, respecting your boundaries 

“it’s easy around him, you know?” luke nodded slightly, a questioning look in his eyes 

“i wish it could’ve been that simple with you, but there are things that cant be kept from a partner the way they can from a friend, it’s different,” 

the two of you sat in silence for a minute, luke having opened the bottle of ibuprofen for you and handing you two to take 

once you sipped away the weird feeling in your throat with water, you gave him a hopeful look

“are you still up to take me?” he smiled sadly and nodded, slowly moving from his bed and over to his closet.

“here,” he handed you a hoodie and his varsity jacket, nodding in a way that told you to put them on. 

you stood carefully and put the sweater on, overwhelmed by the smell of him lingering on the collar 

the jacket was both too big on you but a perfect fit, the bottom landing a little above your knees and the sleeves covering up to the tips of your fingers 

you put your shoes back on and gave him a look before going over to the bathroom, scanning the counter until you found something that could suffice as a face wash 

you pulled your sleeves up and washed the mascara from your cheeks, then grabbed a clean towel to pat your face dry.

you went to go cup your hands under the cool water to drink before some mouthwash, but you spotted the toothbrush you kept here while you’d been dating luke in his corner of things 

your lips parted and you blinked, almost thinking it would go away once you opened your eyes again. 

when it didn’t, you took the cover off the top of it to find it in the same condition you left it, so you rinsed it well before using it. 

luke walked out of his shared room, now in a hoodie of his own, and froze when he saw you

you avoided his eyes, pulling your hair from your face while you spat out the toothpaste and then rinsed your mouth with water. 

you pulled your sleeves back down and walked over to where he was waiting on the stairs, flicking the light off and keeping your head down 

“i, uh, just kept forgetting to toss it,” he cleared his throat, eyes flashing over to you and quickly moving away

you just nodded, making your way down the stairs and seeing the three boys who had brought you home playing video games on the couch

shea was the first to notice you, smiling to himself at the sight of you drowning in luke’s clothes.

he nudged marks knee with his own to grab his attention, nodding over to you and luke who’d been awkwardly standing there

mark looked up and grinned at you, setting his controller down and getting up to trap you in a bear hug

“how’s the head, dumbass,” you smiled bashfully, resting your face against his chest and hugging him back 

“throbbing. thanks for coming to get me,” he hummed in response, ruffling your hair and moving away from you 

“you’re bringing her home?” mark asked, eyes directed at luke

he looked at you and you answered for him

“we’re going on a little road trip. be back in a few hours,��� mark tried his best not to let glee take over his face too obviously.

he sent luke a knowing look, a callback to their earlier conversation where mark had outright exposed him for still being in love with you

you smiled and waved to shea and luca, who returned the favour, luca yelling after you as you walked away with a “you kids have fun! wear protection!” which earned him a slap on the head from seamus. 

the drive to the grocery store was quiet, luke’s bluetooth playing quietly through the speakers of his car and you humming along to some of the songs you knew.

the two of you opted to grab something to eat from the deli as well, and luke offered to pay for both the meals and the card and flowers you’d gotten for your dad.

you were reluctant, but he had blocked you away from the debit machine when it was presented to you, so you settled for slipping a twenty into the pocket of his jacket so he’d get it whenever you took it off and gave it back.

you weren’t opposed to the silence, but sharing it with luke did make it a little more uncomfortable than it should’ve been.

you were dreadfully aware that the two of you did need to have a good talk, and work out whatever it was that had torn your friendship to bits after the breakup, but maybe that's better off happening later on.

when he pulled into the parking lot at the cemetery your dad had been buried at, you looked over at him before getting out

“thank you for doing this for me, lu,” he nodded sweetly, mumbling a soft “of course, baby,” in response

your heart fluttered at his tone, as well as the genuine use of ‘baby’, and you gave him a close-lipped smile before opening the door to his car and grabbing your things, waiting for him to get out with you.

the two of you walked to your dads headstone, sitting on the grass by it and laying the flowers and the card.

“if you want a minute by yourself, i can-” you grabbed his hand before he could move to stand up, shaking your head and looking up at him with teary eyes 

“just, stay,” you breathed out, and he nodded, wrapping his free arm around you and squeezing the hand that he’d been holding 

you cried silently, staring at the stone with tears streaming down your face, leaving lines of red from the irritated skin.

you felt luke start to gently brush his thumb along your knuckles, and you grimaced to yourself, looking down into your lap to try and keep yourself together 

luke frowned, pulling you into his lap and cradling your head, one hand still holding yours 

you took a deep breath, torso shaking as you squeezed his hand like you’d been getting your first tattoo.

when you looked up at him, you saw the luke you knew at the beginning of your relationship, and not the one you constantly bickered with. 

he pushed his nose next to yours, lips nearly brushing against each others, but he waited for you to initiate it. 

instead, you pulled away and tried to move away from his hug, heart aching in your chest and guilt taking over your head 

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, opting to lean your head into his neck since he hadn’t loosened his grip. 

“no, it’s.. it’s okay, y/n,” he sounded unsure, but the words eased your mind nonetheless 

“i can’t go through what we did again, i can’t keep going in that circle, luke, we suck for each other,” you explained, pulling your hand from his and beginning to mess with the sleeves of his jacket 

“i can be better at that, y/n/n, i want to help,” you shook your head, finally managing to move off him 

“you said that last time, and you lied. i don’t blame you, luke, i was shitty too. but i think we’re better off as friends,”

he pursed his lips, nodding. he knew you were right. 

+ one

“have you ever been to an nhl game before?” ellen asked, getting soup ready for quinn, who was recovering on the couch. 

“uh, no, and i hardly had time to pay attention to any of the wolverines games, i was always editing,” you chuckled awkwardly, knowing your knowledge of crowds at sporting events was very limited and you’d likely be caught sitting with jim looking incredibly confused. 

you knew you would feel out of place, especially at a playoff game. 

luke wasn't even aware that you were in new jersey, let alone that you’d be in attendance to his first playoff game.

you had finals and things to do for the team’s media page during his first nhl games, and though you weren’t dating, you knew he wanted you there for them due to the devils jersey he had sent you after he signed his contract.

not only did you still have things to do in ann arbor, but you definitely could not afford a place to stay or plane tickets to new jersey.

then, ellen had messaged you with the news that she’d be stuck babying quinn for the next while, and offered you her ticket to the game along with help for your plane tickets.

truly, it was the least she could do, as her son hadn’t shut up about you since the moment she got to newark, and she could no longer stand hearing him complain about how much he missed you, only to correct everyone when they referred to you as his girlfriend.

the game could not have been anymore hectic. it ended 8-4 devils, but with four combined short handed goals, the canes rookie goalie being subbed in, and luke getting two points.

the rock was loud, but the energy felt less overwhelming over time and you got used to the cheers and yelling eventually.

you went with jim to wait for jack and luke, neither of which were expecting you.

jack came out first, and completely neglected his father as he greeted you with a hug, asking how you’d been and when you got to town.

you were still hugging when luke made his way out, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of a pair of arms around his brother’s waist.

when he got close enough to see that it was you, you were promptly pulled away from jack and lifted into luke’s arms, feet a few inches off the ground from how tightly he’d been hugging onto you.

“oh, jesus. hi, lukey,” you giggled, squeezing him back just as tight. you hadn’t been wearing the jersey, knowing the broadcasts had a tendency to pan to jim up in the stands and not wanting to make a big deal out of it

“how long have you been in jersey? how did you get here? where did you get the ticket, y/n, what the fuck” he rambled, a big smile etched onto his face during the whole ordeal.

he set you down but kept his arms around you, rocking the two of you back and forth while his older brother and dad watched in amusement.

your face went completely serious, and you tried to keep it that way as you spoke “oh, well, i came down to help with quinn after his tonsils and your mom offered me her ticket,” luke shook his head, ruffling your hair and holding your head to his chest 

“i hate you,” he mumbled as you laughed against him.

“no, you don’t” you pulled back a few inches, grabbing his wrist and leading him to the exit jack and jim had already started making their way to.

“no, i don’t,” he pulled back on your wrist, bringing you back into his chest so the two of you were looking at each other.

he lowered his face and kissed you, and for how long overdue it was, he was very tame.

it was gentle, and slow, and he’d been gliding his hands up and down your hips soothingly. your hands came up behind his neck to mess with the hair at its nape and you pulled away for air, but went right back in.

when the two of you finally pulled away completely, luke was blushing madly and you were hiding away in his neck.

“that’s.. certainly one way to prove it,” you breathed out, chuckling slightly.

“can i prove it some more on the way home?” he raised an eyebrow, tilting your head back up to face him.

“with your brother driving us? you wouldn’t,” he grinned, shaking his head.

“i would. you underestimate how long i’ve been waiting for that,”

#e’s fics #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #new jersey devils

[night-raven-tattler]

What's your ideal type?

A/N: This is a series where I write what I think is the ideal type for all the boys of the main cast. Enjoy!

Characters: Heartslabyul dorm (Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Trey, Cater) ×GN!Reader (separate, romantic)

Other parts of the series: Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia

Warnings: food (Trey's first bullet point)

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Riddle's ideal type would be...

Someone who can gain his respect. A way into Riddle's heart is to catch his attention, either through your extensive knowledge about your favorite topic or a very solid sense of self. He likes people who can hold their head high so their crown won't fall off.

Someone who can understand his need to stick to the rules. His journey of self improvement made him understand he can't always force people to stick to all rules. But he still has a long way to go until he can break out of his bad habits, and if you wait for him to catch up, he'll appreciate it.

Someone who allows him to feel his emotions. Always forced to listen and never argue, Riddle has a lot of pent up emotions that spill out through anger at every inconvenience, but no one really taught him how to sit down with himself and understand what bottled up emotion is making him react. He needs someone who can at least nudge him towards trying to understand what and why he's feeling.

Someone who takes him out of his comfort zone. The rigid routine he has been stuck in over the years left its mark on Riddle, making him fear trying out new things. He fears the consequences of failure. But it's natural to be bad before you are good at something, and if you can push Riddle towards trying new things you get to see him at his most vulnerable: someone who simply loves to learn about the wonders of the world around him.

『••✎••』

Ace's ideal type would be...

Someone he can get a reaction out of. Ace is a major tease and a bit of a jerk, but that's part of his charm. From annoyance to fluster, if he can get himself to stay into your mind longer than expected, he'll gladly extend his stay there for as long as possible.

Someone who is not afraid to call him out and keep him in line. Ace doesn't just nod and agree: he likes to make a statement, to be honest and call people out, but his thoughts don't always go through any filters before leaving his lips. He appreciates when you can be honest in return and tell him that he is going too far.

Someone who doesn't get offended from every honest thing he says. Like I mentioned above, Ace doesn't really use his mental filter, and things just come out of his mouth sometimes. He doesn't always mean harm, he just wants to get his point across and be as straightforward as possible. He likes when you're willing to take his feedback before commenting on his lack of filter.

Someone who pays attention to him. It's a surefire way to gain Ace's affection. Rewarding him in just the right ways will have Ace following you like a puppy, if he's not doing that already. Save him a seat in the cafeteria. Get him those cherry flavored candies. Cheer for him during a basketball match. Soon enough he'll reciprocate the gestures.

『••✎••』

Deuce's ideal type would be...

Someone who is comfortable with change. Deuce is always working on ways to become a better person, a better student, a better son, even a better boyfriend. If you can understand why he always needs to seek ways to change, you'll be a welcome presence in his life.

Someone responsible. Deuce is not the most reliable student out there. He's trying, but not always succeeding. So, if he has someone to look up to, it will motivate him and won't let him dwell on his shortcomings for too long.

Someone he can make mistakes with. He deeply regrets his past as a delinquent, so he holds himself to a standard that always seems to be out of his reach, and kicks himself up when he doesn't reach it. If you can teach him that baby steps are more important than huge change, you'll earn a place in Deuce's heart.

Someone who finds family important. This might sound weird, but you won't always be Deuce's top priority. His mom, Dillah, is the only person who was in his corner no matter what while he was growing up. He wants to do everything he can to repay her for everything she did. Someone who understands the importance of family in Deuce's life reassures him that not only you'll fit in his family, but you'll be on a similar page when he decides it's time to bring up you two making your own.

『••✎••』

Trey's ideal type would be...

Someone who appreciates baking. You don't have to be good at it. You don't even need to know too much about it! Trey likes the attention you give him whenever he bakes, especially since he does it very often.

Someone who doesn't push him to be more than what he is. Trey has a very solid sense of self, and knows exactly what he wants to do to live a comfortable and satisfying life. Just trust him and let him know you are confident he knows what he's doing, and don't bring up any "wasted potential" talk.

Someone who calls him out when he jumps to conclusions. Trey is observant, kind and compassionate; however he also tends to underestimate the people around him, in the way that he thinks everyone who has his sympathy needs his support. Don't hesitate to remind him how that backfired for him, and he'll appreciate it.

Someone who can enjoy a small prank war with him. At the end of the day, Trey likes teasing people and a good, harmless practical joke has him smirking at you for days. You can always try to put salt in his coffee or misplace his notes, but you also need to be prepared for the consequences.

『••✎••』

Cater's ideal type would be...

Someone who doesn't wear their heart to their sleeve. They say a bit of mystery makes someone more attractive, and Cater totally agrees. He does find the honest types adorable, but to catch and keep his attention on you, you have to leave some cards close to your chest. It will leave him curious and eager to unravel you, piece by piece.

Someone who enjoys aesthetic things. Cater often takes out his phone to snap pics of various things he finds cool or interesting to post to his Magicam. Don't be afraid to send him pictures you've taken as well! Just don't send too many pink things.

Someone who gives him space when he needs it. It's no secret Cater is pretty closed off emotionally and doesn't really like to make close relationships. While it's good to bring him out of his shell in the emotional department, overdoing it will overwhelm him and push him away. You have to do it bit by bit, leaving him enough space to decide when it's okay to seek you out himself.

Someone who is willing to be more emotionally open first. Creating a safe space is key. You will have to make the first step if you want you two to develop a deeper connection. If you extend your hand first, he'll at least consider taking it.

『••✎••』

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #trey clover #trey clover x reader #cater diamond #cater diamond x reader

[paper-mario-wiki]

alright look i know my following is not the target audience for this kind of post but i wanna at least point something out about a scene in the Fallout show that i haven't actually heard a single person point out or comment on.

spoilers ahead.

in the scene where the ghoul is rewatching his old movie, specifically the scene where he originally protested about killing the villain.

the first layer is the obvious one: he is talking directly to himself. "you were strong, ugly, and you had dignity. i'll give you two out of those three." he remembers what happened at that shoot just as clearly as we did, and after he literally tells himself to his face "you're strong, ugly, and have no dignity" followed by him killing the man he originally wanted his character to save. this, of course, coming DIRECTLY after the person he sold into slavery earlier that day sparing him with life saving medicine while he's on the ground and telling him to his face that he only lives on because someone stuck to their humanity. very heavy! i bet he feels like shit, which he probably should because he's kind of a jerkoff! (but in a cool way that i like to watch)

the SECOND layer is the one i find way more interesting. the phrasing of his final line we didn't hear before was so dripping with importance that it felt like i was reading RPG dialogue and story relevant words were highlighted. "i hope you like the taste of lead you commie son of a bitch". as we'd already seen in episode 3, he despises vault-tec for everything he knows they are responsible for while he was their face. moreover, it's made clear that he doesn't just resent himself for being used for their image, but he resents the fact that he was the face of the propaganda which drove the war fever that caused the end of the world. the wild west ideal caricature of masculine wisdom from the movies as the spokesperson of the company who stood to profit from the purposeful decimation of the human race. he became The Ultimate Jingo.

and i really enjoyed how brief yet informative that detail was! i really enjoyed how the directors tell you what the characters are thinking intuitively and effectively through the camerawork and those little details make the whole thing a lot more fun to mull over and consider as a part of the whole of Fallout! i think it's neat.

#text #fallout show #im not joking when i say ive considered recording a podcast that's just a rifftrax over the episodes of fallout #but instead of making jokes i just do like. a reverse directors commentary. #i do an audience commentary where i point out what all the shit means and how cool it is

[amamisa]

SIXTY-FOUR EQUALS SIXTY-FIVE!

RANPO EDOGAWA ⋮ BUNGO STRAY DOGS

premise. ranpo loves to give you all sorts of little riddles, but this one might have you stumped the most out of all of them.

story notes! fem!reader. fluff! reader works as part of the ADA office staff. animated dividers by @/cafekitsune!

love, misa ‹3 if you know what the title is referencing, ily! also, reblogs, comments and interactions are vrie appreciated!

“. . . Pardon?”

Ranpo looks to you with a pointedly smug grin playing on his face, hands relaxedly folded behind his head as he leans back in the ADA office’s chair. It creaks beneath him as he plants his feet atop the mahogany desk and swivels around slowly, a sign that you should probably get the seat oiled soon.

“It’s simple, is it not?” He asks and you slowly shake your head no, mouth slightly agape when he starts to sigh, repeating his prior statement.

“Sixty-four equals sixty-five, and that’s that!”

You blink a few times, hoping that the information sinks in a little more inside of your beain just long enough that you can even begin to process whatever he means.

The words play back in your mind like an old VHS tape, abruptly coming to a halt when you can’t fall into a proper, conclusive or logical answer that would make sense in any normal situation.

“That’s . . . false,” you begin to argue, albeit a bit unsurely as you have no idea what to even say in the moment. Your mouth moves faster than your brain as you tell him the only logical thing you can think of.

“If sixty-four equalled sixty-five than it would be sixty-five and not sixty-four.”

Ranpo lets out a laugh, only telling you that “You’re wrong,” and for a second you look around the ADA office wondering if there were any cameras filming the two of you. You find that the other office clerks are merely seated at their own desks though, watching the spectacle between you and Ranpo go down, and a little amused at your bewilderment.

You’d think that for a man who is labelled as the greatest detective in all of Yokohama (and quite possibly the entire world once you took into account his inherent genius and lack of an ability), that much would make sende for someone like him.

Surely he couldn’t have said a more incorrect statement than that with such confidence in himself.

But no, of course not.

It’s Ranpo you’re dealing with, and he says a lot of odd little phrases and sayings just to mess with your head sometimes. It started since your first day with the ADA, it’s been years now and he’s still going too.

He doesn’t show any signs of stopping soon either.

(“You just look so funny with your face all scrunched up in thought!” He once told you after a particularly difficult riddle that had you stumped for hours on end until the end of the work day, afterwhich you realized the answer was unfathomably easy once he had revealed it to you.

Nobody else in the ADA could’ve gotten it though, so it saved you at least some of your dignity.)

You assume that this must be another one of those cryptic riddles he’s thrown your way, maybe a test to see if you’ve somehow managed to improve from last time. An inkling of hope swells inside your chest, hoping that today is the day you finally manage to answer correctly to one of Ranpo’s mysterious riddles.

Setting down the bowl of candies in your hands on his desk, you stand in thought for a moment, scouring your brain for anything that could relate to the riddle as Ranpo delightedly digs into the newfound treats, appearing blissful to the mental agony he loves to put you through sometimes.

The little dish clinks against his fingernails as he searches through the pile of sweets for his favourites at the bottom, the sound of the plastic unwrapping in tune with the beat of the ticking in your brain while you think over his words from earlier.

He gave no set up, no punch line, no nothing at all. There wasn’t any indistinguishable context to the riddle-like words that you could recall, it was only—

“Sixty-four equals sixty-five . . .” Ranpo hears you mutter underneath your breath, and his lips curl up in delight as he munches on a decadent chocolate truffle, filled with sticky caramel and generous bits of toffee.

The caramel sticks to his teeth, with the toffee clinging to the sides of his tongue and the roof of his mouth as he chews away at the treat, patiently watching while you continue to talk to yourself, still thinking over his words from earlier.

“Could it be a math riddle? No, that’s not possible though if we’re going by technical math terms and rules . . . Maybe something to do with physics? But how could anything simultaneously be sixty-four and sixty-five?”

Ranpo’s mischievous grin only continues to grow as you remain oblivious to his watchful eyes, and his gaze scans over your features, wordlessly taking in your appearance.

Your knitted brows, the way you subconsciously pout your lips whenever you’re in deep thought, your crossed arms, all while unknowingly talking to yourself as you piece together the clues.

Ranpo sees it all as clear as day. And he finds it unbelievably cute.

“Maybe it’s about hex codes from the colour wheel, since one colour can look different depending on the background it’s placed over. It could have less to do with the numbers themselves than the meaning or history behind them—”

“Are you done yet?” You’re brought back to reality by the sound of Ranpo’s voice interrupting your thoughts, head perking up as you’re met with the sight of his nougat stuffed cheeks. All puffed out and full of sugar as he holds back a laugh once he sees how quickly your face softened from it’s previously hardened features.

“You were taking forever to solve that one! And it’s really not that hard to begin with!”

“Speak for yourself,” you scoff, taking one of the chocolates from the bowl and unwrapping it for yourself. The plastic crinkles beneath your fingertips, you stuff the wrapper in your pocket before popping it into your mouth.

The caramel sauce encased in the hard chocolate shell explodes when you crunch down on it, a sweet little victory to make up for the quizzical hurdles you’re put through on a regular basis, courtesy of the man sitting right across from you.

“You’re Yokohama’s greatest detective, it’s obvious that these sorts of riddles come naturally to you,” you wholeheartedly confess, savouring the light cocoa and sweet, subtly coconut flavours that coat your tongue. “I’m not like you, Ranpo. Nobody in the ADA is, what takes us twelve weeks to solve you can answer in twelve seconds.”

“Awee, really?” He giggles, swiping more of the little candies from the bowl on his desk. He seems to have missed the original point entirely by now, as he motions for you to continue, “Go on, tell me more about how great I am!”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at him, maybe you shouldn’t have gassed him up so much during your little acknowledgement speech. Though with the cases he’s solved in his repertoire, you really can’t argue against that title of his.

“No, you’ve had enough of that from Kunikida and Atsushi just this morning alone.”

A small pout graces Ranpo’s lips as you sigh, ignoring the kicked puppy eyes he gives you while walking back to your desk, continuing to mutter underneath your breath the same words that will probably leave you stumped for the next few days on end.

“Sixty-four equals sixty-five?”

Ranpo cranes his head as he eats away at the rest of his candy stash, watching you immediately turn to one of your co-workers from his own work space to ask them the same question Ranpo gave you, inquiring about any clues they might have as to the answer.

“No, there’s gotta be an answer,” he overhears when your colleague shrugs their shoulders, simply telling you that whatever Ranpo says is probably just a load of gibberish meant to mess with your mind.

“Just— just give me anything you can think of, okay? I’ll solve one of his riddles one day.”

The sight has Ranpo smiling behind the back of his hand, eyes crinkling at the corners with glowing cheeks when you sees you bring out one of your notepads from the desk drawer’s, clicking your pen as you begin to write down any guesses you might have to tell him later.

Truth be told, unlike the rest of the spontaneous mind games Ranpo pulls on you— this one has no actual meaningful answer. At least, not one that you’d understand at the moment if he were to tell you it’s solution.

But despite that looming factor always casting it’s dark shadow onto you, the thought of Ranpo giving you a riddle truly impossible to solve has never really crossed your mind.

Otherwise, you would very easily give up solving them after just a moment of contemplation.

Ranpo’s noticed though that you tend to wallow on them for days at a time unless he comes clean and tells you the answer in it’s entirety, letting his silly and easily misconstrued words stew inside your head during your lunch breaks and slow times at the ADA where you’ll maybe sometimes bound up to him excitedly with a guess as to what you think the answer is.

It’s charming how much thought you put into your solutions, and admittedly you’ve gotten quite close a few times to figuring them out all on your own. Ranpo’s always impressed with whatever you come up with, even if it’s outlandishly ridiculous or nowhere even close to the actual answer itself.

It’s really your explanations and logic behind them that he likes, with some of the ideas you bring up for splutions are those that he hasn’t even thought of beforehand until you ask him if they’re right.

(Sometimes he wants to cut your little game short and just give you the win for once if your guess is creative enough.

But where’s the fun in that?)

He’ll give you more of these up until the day you leave the ADA (though he hopes that’s not anytime soon) if it means he gets to see that delightful little confused but hopeful expression you make while deep in thought.

Your persistence in finding out the answer on your own until you’ve been truly worn out by him is also admirable.

Because while you’re always just a bit confused by all the different riddles, puzzles and play-on-words he hounds on you each day, he finds that you’ve yet to actually reject his proposal to solving them, never even considering walking away from his absurdity unlike with most people he knows if he asked them the same.

He prays it’ll stay that way too.

Otherwise, who else would he have to fawn over in secret?

Ranpo deduces that while you may be clever (anyone who works at the ADA is, it’s basically a requirement when working with ability users such as them), he’s always just a few steps ahead of you.

It’s not an insult towards you on his end in any way either. Your way of thinking is totally different from his own, but he reasons out that he can make arrangements to improving your logical deduction abilities once he finally figures out how to convey his feelings for you.

Properly, and not through a series of complex paradoxes and logic puzzles.

The most complex riddle of them all though that the ADA office staff asks themselves each day while witnessing the two of you has to be:

Whose logical reasoning is really being tested here again? Yours, or Ranpo’s?

The ADA believes that Ranpo should use less of his time giving you intrinsically methodical puzzles and focus more of his energy on realizing his blooming, lovesick crush.

works © amamisa 2024. no copying or stealing, please!

#bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #ranpo edogawa #ranpo x reader #ranpo edogawa x reader #ranpo edogawa fluff #ranpo fluff #bungo stray dogs ranpo #bsd ranpo #bsd fluff #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd fanfic #bsd scenarios #bsd x female reader #signed by misa ৻ꪆ

[planetnini]

PLEASE DON'T SAY YOU LOVE ME !

࿔･ﾟ*࿐ You kept catching glimpses of Suguru around even after his death. Thinking it may have been a trick on your mind, you brushed it off but when someone that looks and sounds exactly like him shows up at your apartment, you have no other choice but to take matters into your own hands... that is until you find out that he still might be in there.

pairing. geto suguru x gn!reader

tags. angst,, like seriously angst (this hurts so much please listen to me), the first half is a trick there is no happy ending, shibuya arc spoilers!!! (kenjaku is a bitch), violence/fighting (i get a bit descriptive sorry) and of course,,, major character death :)

word count. 2.8k

notes. this idea came to me one night and bambi encouraged me to write it so here it is. i hope no one kills me for this, i also can't believe this is my first official fic of jjk... anyways, get ready to (c)rumble, thank you! <333

“I thought I told you not to worry about me.” you said, phone tucked on your shoulder holding it to your ear as you took the grocery bag from the old lady giving a curt nod and smile. You moved the bags in one hand and pulled the phone out from your shoulder, pressing it against your ear.

“But then what else would I do?” Satoru whined, masking his concern with a playful question as you walked to the crossing, going to take the usual route home.

“Go bother someone else.” you teased.

Going for the dramatics you heard him gasp through the line, “You are so mean.” he replied and you don’t have to see him to know he is pouting. 

You chuckled, stopping in your tracks as you glanced over the scenic route through the park contemplating to take the long way home. Your attention is suddenly turned to the children with their parents, chasing each other around.

Your heart stuttered.

The mere sight elicited thoughts about your future; the plans you had come up with; the dreams you’d wish to share with Suguru that were torn away from you. The burdens of the jujutsu world were too much to handle alone, and you just know that if you were just a bit more attentive, you could have saved him.

“You need to be reminded that you’re not the only special grade sometimes.” you said, glancing at the way the soft cerulean of the sky weaved with a beautiful light orange. The sunset reminding you of days when Suguru would take you out after missions together.

“Do you think you’re stronger than me?” he chimed, and you rolled your eyes at his comment. Satoru was always like this but you knew that his voice was laced with worry and concern.

“I’m going to hang up.” you threatened as your feet move against their own will, deciding to take the long way home today. The cherry blossoms danced along with the wind, falling beneath you on the concrete as you continued down the path.

It is quiet for a moment and you think Satoru has hung up on you in response to your comment but when you hear him sigh, you can’t help but do the same.

It has been a rough few years for everyone, especially for Shoko, Satoru, and yourself. Not only had you lost your best friend the first time but you also had to lose him another time.

“Are you still there?” he interrupted your thoughts.

“Yeah.. I’m still here.” you replied as you let out an exhale, kicking some pebbles along your path.

“Are you still seeing him around?” he questioned, words picked out carefully.

You sighed, “you make me sound insane.” you responded as you stood at the traffic light waiting for the cars to pass by. Your eyes moved to the blossom leaves falling atop your head and on your clothes.

“I never said you were insane Y/N.” he grumbled and you can’t control the way your whole body relaxes at his words. You knew Satoru cared for you deeply and you had always appreciated it even if you didn't really show it. He had always kept an eye out for you, even before Suguru’s death, and while he was a handful, you knew he always had good intentions. “It wasn’t easy to be there." he added.

You thought back to that day where Satoru insisted you stay back as he went to find Suguru but one look at you and he caved. You wanted to go to find newfound peace but seeing him in this state did nothing for your closure, it only made your heartache worse.

Seeing him smile at you like he did the first day you met had sent butterflies all throughout your body.

Everything about him- every minuscule detail about him- had been exactly as you had remembered. He still had the same sweet and playful look in his eyes. He still had the same goddamn smile. He was still the same person you fell in love with all those years ago so it hurt. You cried, wept, and tried to be strong as you thought about the moments shared with him and how cruel it was that this was where you ended up.

You leaned down, and kissed his cheek as tears adorned your cheeks. Holding his hand and with three tight squeezes- a sign of sorry that you established as your relationship blossomed- he closed his eyes, prepared for the worst as a tear rolled down his face, and then he took his last breath.

“Satoru…” you uttered, completely speechless as you tried to clear your head, “I wanted to be there.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“Do you think it’s possible?” he questioned, uncertainty laced in his voice.

“That what Satoru? That by some miracle he’s alive?” you replied immediately regretting it.

It wasn’t just you that had to grieve the loss of Geto Suguru, and as much as you wanted to just go about your day without thinking about it, guilt would eat away at your bones for not constantly thinking about him.

“i’m sorry.” he sighed and you felt your heart clench at his apology. Why should he be apologising? It was unfair that grief was making you behave this way and you knew that sooner or later you'd need to talk to someone about it.

“I’m the one who should be sorry. I just don’t think my mind will let me forget it...” you sighed as you continued to walk slowly to your apartment.

The line is quiet and you don’t know what else to say. You don’t expect Satoru to even reply to you.

“You don’t have to forget. You can just live with it.”

Shoko had once told you that 'grief was love with no place to go' and while you hadn’t really understood it then, you did now. It was a way to understand the emotional ruins of grief as a continuation of the love you once had, even if the object of that love is no longer a part of your life. In a sense, Satoru was also telling you the same thing. He acknowledged that moving on didn't mean erasing the past and staying stagnant in the moment, but recognised that you can continue living a meaningful life whilst also carrying the grief with you.

You thought you were losing your mind and that seeing Suguru everywhere was a curse but maybe it was the world's way of letting you know that he was finally at peace. As you walked up the pathway to your apartment in a comfortable silence, you thought about his and Shoko’s words. 

Every single day you would return home to a place void of any remnant of Suguru. A place that is supposed to offer comfort now did the opposite but today felt different. Maybe it was a step towards another way of living and it wouldn’t be so hard to live with the grief.

“Where are you now?”

“Outside my door.” you spoke as you used a key to unlock the door.

“Okay. I’m glad you got home safe," he remarked, "I'll see you tomorrow?”

“See you then.”

“Stay safe.” he said and you know what he means.

“Love you too.”

You hung up the phone and took off your shoes before tossing everything onto the kitchen island and groaning as you stretched your back and neck. You turned to open the fridge, “Whoever you are, you have ten seconds to run before I kill you.”

You wouldn’t say you were the strongest, your abilities were nowhere to be compared to Satoru but everyone deserves a second chance, right? You let the entity decide its own fate. Don't say I didn't warn you...

“So... you’re the infamous Y/N.” 

That voice…

Your feet were frozen in place and you could feel your own heart sink into the pit of your stomach. There were words stuck in your throat as the nauseous feeling crept up and threatened to spill from your lips. This can’t be right… 

What felt like minutes passed by as you processed what, or rather who you just heard. The way your name rolled off their tongue was foreign. Was it really who you thought it was? Your mind must be going through it right now and although you know it’s not possible, you can’t help but hope it is who you think it is as you turned around.

“Suguru?” you uttered, eyes wide as the tears brimmed the edge of them as you stared at the man in front of you. 

“Bingo!” he chuckled.

You begged yourself to snap out of it. This was clearly a sick and twisted transformation technique but your heart betrayed you, standing there and not making a run for it.

“You’re probably thinking this is some illusion but thanks to your friend, I was able to obtain this body without much trouble.” he smiled and you felt goose bumps crawling up your arm at the strange sight. Despite how much this man looked and sounded like Suguru, you knew this was not the case at all.

Your jaw clenched, “What the fuck did you do to him?” 

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said, standing up from your sofa as he trudged towards you, “My cursed technique allows me to transplant my brain into anybody," he explained and you're heaving as you tried to keep your rage at surface level, "I have access to all of his memories, his skills, and whatnot."

You don't have it in yourself to attack just yet.

"He lived a long time without you in his life but somehow," he paused, "you take up almost every single memory.” he sounded frustrated and the tears threatening to escape your eyes do so- whether he was telling the truth or not, they still hurt you immensely. 

“So why are you here?” you growled as your body allowed itself to move again and maintaining eye contact with him as you focused all your energy to charge your technique.

“You are a hindrance to my plans.”

His weakness.

You released your cursed technique at him immediately and launched him across the room and as you moved to the table to grab your phone. One of Suguru’s cursed spirits wrapped around your hands and restrained you and using your abilities, you managed to get away from it. You shot him a look as he tilted his head with a smile, “I gave you ten seconds to run but I have something else settled for you now” you snapped as you continued to use your technique to your advantage as you continued to fight him.

You would say that against Suguru, it had always been a close call of who would win in a fight but this time it felt difficult. Who was this guy?

You continued to attack the man, fighting back with all your might. He wasn’t actually Suguru, so you didn’t feel the need to hold back. He caught you off guard with a calculated move and knocked you to the floor. You saved yourself from further injury as you used your arm to break the fall, but you managed to hit your head on the furniture with your head in the process.

You winced pushing yourself off your elbow as the man walked towards you with his hands in front of you as he tried to force you up by the throat, “Suguru...” you managed to say before he could grab you. 

Before you can even process it, there is a twitch of his hand that came up to his throat, choking himself as his fingers pressed down against the side of his throat, ultimately stopping himself from putting a hand on you.

Your eyes widened as your breath caught in your lungs. Was he still in there?

Kenjaku’s eyes widened, as his vessel- Suguru’s body- fought against him, and a laugh that used to be full of joy now sounded like nails on a chalkboard as it echoed through your apartment, “This is impressive!" he spoke, amused at the action.

By no means was Geto Suguru still alive, but protecting you had become muscle memory; it was an instinct that has embedded itself deep within his soul, one that Kenjaku would never truly be able to understand..

You are still on the floor, blood dripped down the side of your head as you moved up from your spot. Using your technique, you try and catch him off guard by putting all your strength into your next move, attacking him when he least expects it, “In all my years, I have never seen anything quite like this and it is all because of you.” he cackled. 

“It sounds like somebody is scared.” you taunted, smirking at the imposter to try to size him up.

“Well, let me tell you this,” he cleared his throat, “When a part of the original host reacts, you know what that means?”

“What?” you seethed, jaws clenched as you waited for him to finish his sentence.

“He’s still in here.” he whispered, and t had caught you off guard.

You wanted to attack but instead your heart sabotaged your next move allowing Kenjaku to have the upper hand. You struggled to react as you felt the pain of something on your left side and suddenly, you are on the floor gasping for air and you can feel him hover over you.

He pinned you down to the floor and slammed you against it to stop you from struggling but you were already incapacitated so what was the point?

In terms of physical strength, Suguru would always win by a landslide and this is when you wished you had taken your training more seriously. 

There was a visceral reaction that tears at Kenjaku as he has you in his hands which entertains him once again, “You have some nerve calling yourself a special grade sorcerer,” he sneered, “Are you holding back?”

You looked up at him and tried your absolute best to move but the pain is too much to handle. You clenched your jaw as your breathing became erratic, “You will find no peace, so long as you live.” you choked out.

He laughed and wrapped his hand around your neck tighter, his right hand reaching over to your hand- you don’t know what he expected from you now that you’re bleeding out. "You're hilarious," he rejoiced as his hand intertwined with yours, “So let me make this easier for you. Just think about him...” Kenjaku needed you to suffer so that he could shake Suguru’s will to its core, stripping anything left he had. You don’t know what you expected but then you felt a gentle squeeze.

One. 

You forced your eyes open to look up at the man who squeezed your hand. It seemed that he was unaware at the action. This guy said he had all of Suguru’s memories so was he just doing this on purpose? Is this Geto Suguru or is this the imposter that is using his body?

“It is honestly so sweet just how much he loved you after all those years apart.” he chuckled.

Kenjaku continued to put pressure around your neck with one hand, feeling the exact opposite of what Suguru was probably going through- an intolerable, gut-wrenching pain, without exaggeration. He can’t do anything but squeeze his hand in yours again.

Two.

You can’t fight back, you have no will. Even if by some miracle, how could you possibly hurt the man in front of you? The man you once loved...

“Is that why you’re not fighting back? Do you love him too much to hurt him?” 

Suguru’s soul pleaded. 

He wondered why he couldn’t be strong right now for you and resist but it was no use. You could see a tear falling from his face now as the final fragment of his soul tried its best to push through.

Three.

You’re choking. You can't swallow. You can't breathe. You can only see the man you loved in blurry vision from the lack of oxygen and through tears. He was sorry...

“I… I.. forgive.. y-” you choked out, voice restricted as Kenjaku forced himself to push through with his execution, tightening his grip.The finality of it all settled deep within his soul as Kenjaku watched the life leave your eyes as you took your last breath.

A tear rolled down your cheek and your existence on the Earth came to an end.

Suguru was not really gone but he might as well have been. He will exist for a long time knowing that he was the one that killed you and that he couldn’t do anything to stop it either.

It was on that night for the first time that Kenjaku felt the overwhelming amount of agony from his vessel. His soul ached, cried, and wailed that night, longing to be with you but he couldn’t- that was just how things were meant to be for you two.

You hoped he knew that you forgave him and that you would love him endlessly but as for now, you would wait...

tags! @stsgluver

i made y/n a special grade user because they could easily take down suguru if they wanted but just didn't do it hahahahahah

#yours truly nini #geto suguru #suguru geto #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x y/n #geto suguru angst #geto suguru fanfiction #geto suguru fanfic #suguru geto angst #suguru geto fanfic #suguru angst #geto angst #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk angst #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk spoilers

[aziawow]

being in love sucks (rodrick heffley x f!reader) 2.9k words

summary: you're in love with your best friend, but all he can talk about is heather hills.

warnings: language, discussions of loss of virginity of a minor (17), brief self sexualization

notes: she/her pronouns, no use of y/n. reblogs, comments, and likes appreciated! interact with me!

You’ve been friends with Rodrick your entire life. There isn’t a time you can’t remember without him being there. Your parents are lifelong friends and it was only natural that they raised you two together. There’s hundreds of pictures of you both in matching onesies, in the bath, at playdates, in your Halloween costumes, every first day of school, and so much more.

Your lives are so intertwined and have been from the very beginning that it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended. Out of everyone, you and Rodrick knew each other the best because you spent every second together and talked about anything and everything. Sometimes, you didn’t even need to do that to know.

You knew everything about each other.

Mostly everything, at least.

See, there was this thing. This one thing you kept secret from Rodrick for years. The longest you’ve ever kept a secret from him. The secret that could destroy your friendship of almost 18 years.

You’ve known Rodrick all your life and have been in love with him for half of it.

You’re not sure when the “love” part happened, but it hit you suddenly and all at once one day when you were 13.

Rodrick was doing something stupid and Rodrick-like, making you laugh and laugh and laugh until your insides hurt. When you settled down you looked at him. That’s all it took. Just one look. His eyes were dark and shining, a light you’d give everything to see on his face for as long as possible. You noticed his mouth, the way his big, pouty lips curved in the aftermath of a smile. And you knew.

You were totally gone for this boy.

You didn’t want to be the typical girl who fell in love with her boy best friend, but that’s what happened.

You weren’t immune to him and his charm, and no matter how much they pretend otherwise, neither were other girls you went to school with or random ones you saw in gas station lines late at night. Girls either liked him or they didn’t, and you felt like baring your teeth at everyone who crushed on him or flirted with him because jealousy isn’t a feeling you are exempt from, their infatuation is always brief, and they don’t know him—and never will—like you do.

At the same time, you wanted to wax poetic about Rodrick to those who thought he was a weird emo loser who would never get anywhere in life because they couldn’t be more wrong, and how could they not see the amazing guy right in front of them for who he is?

But you kept quiet. You silenced all the contrasting, confusing, and utterly stupid thoughts in your head and tried to move on.

You tried dating, never stuck with a guy for too long because either they hated Rodrick or Rodrick hated them. “You deserve the best kind of love, and he’s not it,” he’d say. And you’d think, “fuck” because he makes it so goddamn difficult not to love him. But he’s not an option, so forward you continue.

You had your firsts, and so did he, and the aches kept coming.

When you lost your virginity a few months ago (a stupid decision with someone you connected with in your history class just to get it over with) he grew quiet. Scarily, worryingly so. He asked a few questions—who was it, how far did you go, did he wear a condom, did you enjoy it, are you going to see him again? You answered his questions tentatively, not liking this mood shift.

The atmosphere in his room where you were (previously studying) was cold and tense, and you hesitated on your answer when he asked if it hurt. This was uncharted territory—how would he react to the truth? But because you promised to only save one secret for yourself, you told him the truth. When it came to Rodrick, lying was never easy.

It did hurt. At first anyway, and it took you a while to adjust to it. There was pain and pleasure and the guy was kind and gentle with you, and after you couldn’t walk for a good while. You were still sore during this conversation.

He was still quiet, though there was a spark of anger behind his eyes. He tried to hide it, but you know him too well for that. He got up and left the room for a few minutes. When he came back, he brought an ice pack, a towel, an extra pillow, and a bottle of ibuprofen. He gave it to you, face burning, and your heart skipped several beats as you were reminded of how sweet he can be.

You never discussed it again, and it’s like that day never happened. No hesitancy, no awkwardness. Just you and Rodrick. Best friends forever.

Now though, his newest obsession was getting on your nerves.

Heather Hills. Heather fucking Hills.

What were you compared to this beautiful prom queen that had Rodrick practically eating out of the palm of her hand? She’s everything Rodrick wants, and what else could you do about that? You tried being supportive of his crush (thinking of Heather being the love of his life made the ache grow stronger, so you chose not to think about it) but it was hard when Heather made it perfectly clear what she thought about Rodrick. But your sweet, naive, lovestruck best friend was too blinded by her shiny blonde hair and skin tight clothes to see the truth.

It was really annoying. Seriously. You’re not narcissistic, but your hair is fucking amazing even on bad days and you’ve been know to rock form fitting and revealing clothes from time to time. You had enough respect for yourself to dress how you like and not for boys, especially for Rodrick, but it would be nice if he noticed you for once.

Like, you didn’t custom make Löded Diper merch on a tight crop top that showed off your asset really well because you love the mispelt words for what happens when babies defecate displayed on your chest. You’re really supportive and just a bit hormonal, okay? Totally normal.

The thing is, you can deal with it when he says he made out with some girl under the bleachers or got a number from someone in his bio class (“How, Rodrick, you don’t even take biology!”) because they mean nothing to him. Just a one off to relieve stress.

Except, Heather Hills? This crush wasn’t going away anytime soon and you struggled to be okay with it.

Currently, you’re in his room, listening to an album of the latest indie band he found when he brought her up yet again. Just as you were really starting to get into the band, too.

“She is so beautiful, don’t you think?” You refuse, refuse, to glance over at him because if you saw the stars in his eyes you’re sure you’d throw up all over the clean laundry Susan had brought up for him a bit ago. You think, slightly vindictive, that at least she stopped folding his clothes for him and that he’s gonna lose his mind with that task later.

You “uh-huh” at him noncommittally and try to listen to the music.

He sighs, disgusting and dream-like. “Like, I know she wears makeup, and I’ve never seen her without it, but I just know her natural face is just as beautiful. Maybe even better. Definitely better, right?”

Jesus Christ.

You hum again.

“She always wears lip gloss, though. It makes her lips so glittery. I wonder what flavor it is. Cherry? Watermelon? Strawberry? I hope it’s strawberry.” You roll your eyes knowing he can’t see but hold in a sigh. You’ve been wearing strawberry lip gloss since you were, like, 10, which he would've known if ever paid any attention to your lips. “God, I want to kiss it off so bad,” he whines, and that, for some reason over all the others, is what breaks you.

“I have to go home,” you blurt and roll off his bed. You reach over to the music player, pop out the CD, and secure it in the case before stuffing it in your bag. You were gonna go home, enjoy the album, and maybe (probably) ((definitely)) have a good cry. What you were not going to do is sit there and listen to the boy you’re in love with declare it oh so passionately for another girl.

“Wait, what?” he asks, shooting to his feet. You make quick work of gathering your stuff and sliding on your shoes, ignoring him.

He follows you out his door and down the stairs, grabbing at you and asking you to slow down. You brush him off and repeat your excuse.

“Hey, wait. C’mon, what’s wrong? You're just gonna take my CD and dip?” He genuinely sounds upset, and you hate that it’s your fault, but you have to look after yourself.

“Yes,” you hiss, and you hear him make a sound so wounded and entirely unlike him that you stop just before reaching for the handle of the front door. You turn and face him, dying a little when you see his wet, confused eyes.

You try to say something, but Susan’s voice cuts in.

“Oh no, are you leaving? I just finished dinner! It’s barbeque chicken wings,” she sing-songs, and shit, it’s your favorite meal that Susan makes. It might even be your favorite meal ever. It has been since you were little and you and Rodrick had a food fight with the sauce. You got in so much trouble, but you wouldn’t give that memory for anything.

It was your favorite and Susan knew that. Rodrick knows that. Even Greg, who you had a good relationship with because you don’t tolerate Rodrick bullying him, and Frank, who couldn't be assed to pay attention to his sons unless they fucked up, knows it’s your favorite. It’s your favorite, but…

“I’m sorry, I have to go home. Next time, though,” you add after seeing the shock on their faces.

“What is wrong with you?”

“Rodrick!” Susan scolds.

“One minute we’re fine then the next you don’t want to be around me,” and no, your heart does not break a little more hearing the crack in his voice, absolutely not. “I’m so lost. What’s wrong?”

Something in you snaps. It’s the something holding back the secret you’ve kept from him for years and all the other tiny secrets buried within that one. It’s the something in you that aches, and you just want it to stop.

“You are!” You practically yell at him. Now it’s out, everything else escapes too, whether you want it too or not. “Heather Hills is! You can’t go five minutes without bringing her up! It’s actually kind of pathetic how gone on her you are. She won’t give you the time of day no matter how hard you try. She doesn’t care about you or your music and she thinks you’re a loser and you know that but you’ve successfully deluded yourself into thinking she sees you as anything more than a walking Hot Topic advertisement. That is, if she even knows you exist.”

The look on Rodrick’s face as you rant turns to shock then to a kind of sadness you’ve never seen on him before. You see in real time as you break his heart, but he broke yours first, so the pain between you is shared like everything else.

He tries to speak but you cut him off. “I know you exist. I care about you and your passions. I am probably one of the only people in this world who believes in your dream of having a music career and supports it.”

“What does that have to do with Heather?” he asks, and you want to scream.

“You once told me that I deserve the best kind of love, do you remember that?” He nods. “So do you. That is something I believe in strongly, and I can’t pretend Heather is what you deserve. She doesn’t know you, she doesn’t see you. I’m not going to go on feeding into this fantasy you have because I can’t watch this thing you have with her anymore.”

He opens and closes his mouth a few times, looking frustratingly cute as he does so. He shakes his head.

“I don’t understand. Why can’t you watch?”

“Because it hurts, Rodrick! It hurts me and I can’t stop it.” You sigh and tear your gaze away from him. You think back on your shared past, the jokes, the situations, the good, the bad. Every memory pours in, and you know you ruined what was left of forever. Tears spring to your eyes.

“I can’t do this,” you say quietly, “I really can’t.”

Rodrick stays frozen in place as you open the door and leave. He stands there even after you’re gone.

“Wow,” says an irritating voice next to him. “You’re an idiot.”

“Greg! Don’t talk about your brother like that, he’s clearly going through something!” Rodrick, who can’t feel much of anything right now, feels a smidge grateful for his scolding mother. Until— “Except, Rodrick, honey. You are being a little bit of an idiot.”

He whirls around, hope for everything completely gone.

“What are you talking about?” he asks, and when the only response he gets is his mom and Greg sharing a look with a meaning Rodrick can’t define, he loses it.

“What just happened? What does she mean ‘I can’t do this’ and why did she bring up Heather a million times? She refused barbeque chicken! She loves barbecue chicken! What is with that!?” he sits at the table and groans. “I’m so confused. Nothing in this world makes sense.”

“Oh my god, Rodrick, are you serious? I know you’re kinda dumb but you can't seriously be that oblivious,” Greg says.

“What,” Rodrick bites.

“I’m gonna tell you this, not because you’re my brother and I love you, but because the best thing about your life just walked out that door and I don’t want to risk her never coming back.”

“Tell me what,” Rodrick grounds out.

Greg sighs, very much put upon and done with stupid teenagers. “Dude, she’s in love with you.”

Rodrick stops. His whole world comes to a standstill. He can’t think, he can’t breathe, he can't be. That’s not true, right? His little brother is just yanking his chain. Pay back for when Rodrick let Greg believe he used his toothbrush to scrub the toilet bowl last week. Just a prank. A joke.

Right?

Because if it’s not…

“How do you know that?” he asks, and hates how small his voice is.

“How do you not?” Greg retorts.

The rest of dinner is spent in silence, only broken occasionally by Manny, but Rodrick doesn't even make it halfway through. He’s too busy thinking about you and what to do. He sat with his thoughts and absentmindedly started to eat a piece of chicken, but found he couldn’t even take a bite without every memory you two shared filling his every sense. He abruptly leaves the table and suspects the only his mom let him skip family dinner is because he had a great fucking excuse.

This, to him, is life changing news. The most important news he’s ever gotten and will probably ever get. This is something he has to consider, and consider very seriously or he’s screwed forever. The decision is so easy to make.

You're in love with him.

Him, though? Christ, of course he loves you back. How can he not? Heather is whatever, a distraction, something fun, but you? You’re his whole world, you’re forever.

Time to get his girl.

***

There’s a tiny clink at your window. You thought you imagined it at first but it happened again. And again. And again. It kept happening until—

“Rodrick!” You whispered-shout, half hanging out your window. You’re on the first floor, and right in his face. Whoops. “Knock it off, you’ll wake my parents up!”

“Sorry!” he whisper-shouts back. He takes in what you look like, rumpled clothes, red eyes, and tear stained cheeks. “Hey, have you been crying?” He decides fuck it, and leans close to you and takes your face in his hands. He’s gentle, so you let him. Distantly, he can hear the stolen CD playing behind you.

He wipes away the tears and crust, and when he’s done, he brings your foreheads together. You close your eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for not seeing it before,” he apologies softly.

You let out a gentle huff. “The only secret I’ve ever kept from you,” you admit. He chuckles lightly, you can feel his breath on your skin and you shiver. Your heart beat is wild, always wild around him. But there’s a sense of calm and peace between you two now, and you don’t feel nervous. With him, you feel safe and content, even now after everything.

He pulls back and you open your eyes.

“God,” he says, breathless. “I’m so fucking in love with you.”

And the way he looks at you right now, in this moment, tells you everything you need to know. He never looked at Heather like this, not at any girl except you. He would never lie to you. Hope and love and longing soar through your entire body.

Your eyes are wet and your heart is full. “I love you too.”

When you kiss, it’s everything.

He pulls back abruptly, eyes wide. “Strawberry?” he asks, voice in awe.

“Shut up,” you say, and pull him in for another kiss.

#rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley x y/n #rodrick heffley x you #rodrick heffley x fem!reader #rodrick heffley fic #rodrick heffley reader insert #diary of a wimpy kid #doawk #lmk what you think!