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#and then told me basically that my brother will never leave my life and I have to stay with him forever

canthelpit0 · 7 hours

Text

Jealous girl

Pairing: Chris x jealous!Reader

Wordcount: 5.1k +

Summary: where a girl from school, that you don’t like, somehow knows Chris. Your school life and private life collide, as you decide to make rash moves to get back at her, and teach her a lesson.

Warnings: smut, jealousy, rich kid!Reader, use of y/n, they’re seniors in HS, marking, possessive!Reader )if u squint), pet names, p in v, filming, creampie, unprotected

(A/N: ik I’ve been doing a lot of rich kid reader, but it’s just sm easier 😭 I'm sorry for any grammar errors, English is not my fist language. also, the song has like barely anything to do with the plot.)

I’ve been friends with the triplets for most of my life. We just click.

I’ve always had a slight crush on Chris, he’s the first one I met.

I was scribbling a drawing in kindergarden, sitting at a table all by myself, when Chris came up to me. He started to talk to me and rant about something, until he declared us friends.

We grew up together, went to the same elementary and middle school. But being a rich kid, my parents wanted me to go to a private high school for better education.

So now I go to a private high school in Boston, while the triplets go to Somerville high school.

At first I really didn’t want to go, since it was a private school with uniforms and all. But my parents weren’t letting up, and even threatened to send me to a boarding school in Switzerland.

So I reluctantly agreed.

There was this girl, Eva. Your basic blonde girl with green eyes.

Now, I never liked Eva’s friend, but that was years ago, and I don’t think they’re even friends anymore.

Anyway, me and Eva share the same AP European history class.

We don’t talk a lot though.

★ ★ ★

I walk down the hallway making my way towards the door. Today was a draining day and all I wanted to do was go home and sleep.

But I have homework and-

My thoughts are cut off as I stop in my track raising an eyebrow. There was chris, standing in front of the main entrance of the school.

“Y/n?” He asks excitedly. It’s like my brain pauses for a moment.

“Chris?” I ask back.

At this point I hadn’t seen Chris or his brothers in a month or so. I was too busy studying and they were busy with lacrosse.

I live in Boston at the border to Somerville. And Chris lives in Somerville. But my school is 40 minutes away from his by car.

He opens his arms and I gladly hug him. I sigh as we embrace, my eyes closing briefly.

“Why are you here?” I ask. After all, Chris, to my knowledge didn’t have a drivers license and no reason to be here.

“Well, you know Eva? Well I gave her my jacket a week ago and I came to pick it up since she goes to your school-“ He rants, his words come out fast and jumbled by how excited he is to see me.

“How do you know Eva?” The words come out sassy. And honestly if i wasn’t hyper aware of the fact that we’re on school grounds I’d slip in a swear word.

“Well a week ago I was out in Boston shopping with Matt and Nick and this girl came up to me asking for my jacket since she was cold. Just out of nowhere” he starts to rant again, but I don’t even have half the mind to interrupt him.

After all, this felt like two of my separate worlds were colliding. And I didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t seem to dislike her like I did, wich only made me despise her more.

“And you gave it to her? A stranger?” I raise an eyebrow a huff leaving my lips.

I sound more sassy than I intend to, but I can’t help it.

Students walk past us slowly. Being in a private school most people loved it here. They weren’t pushing to leave.

We stand at the side of the main entry, still inside.

“Yeah. She asked for it” he sasses back, matching my attitude. Yet his smile stays big on his face and I could tell he wasn’t serious.

“What if she stole it?” I roll my eyes looking back up at Chris who had a few inches on me.

“That’s what I said too.” He agrees dramatically. “So she offered to give me her snap and told me she’d give it back to me next opportunity she got.”

That seems a bit dumb to me. She’s rich, she could just buy a new jacket if she’s outside and cold.

“You’ve been talking?” I question. I cringe slightly at the jealous tone lacing my words but Chris doesn’t seem to pick up on it.

“Yeah” he chirps back happily.

Oh so now they were snapping too?

He sticks out like a sore thumb. The way he carries himself, the way he smiles and acts, is just a dead giveaway that he does not go to a private school. Let alone, the fact that he’d not wearing a uniform like everyone else walking out right now.

Some people give us weird looks, but most don’t even care.

I purse my lips, if my day hadn’t been bad already, it was definitely ruined now.

The problem wasn’t that he had friends, other than me. But the fact that I knew her and knew how much of a Bitch she is, and how he can’t realize that.

The fact that he knew that she goes to my school, and that i probably know her, But didn’t even bother to mention it to me.

“You know what class she has right now?” He asks me. He actually has the nerve to.

“No.” I roll my eyes. Honestly I couldn’t care less. I only share that one class with her.

I turn on my heel to walk away, but before I can he grabs my elbow pulling me back slightly.

“Please don’t leave?” He asks sweetly.

I huff yanking my arm out of his grasp. Sure it could be awkward standing in front of the main door, obviously not going to this school looking like a lost puppy. But it’s Chris, he’ll survive.

“Chris, I have shit to do”

that’s a lie. I don’t have anything planned today. I just wanted to go home and sleep.

“Pretty please??” I huff turning back around. I stand next to him, my arms crossed as I scan the people leaving the building.

“Cute uniform you got there.” He says licking his lips slightly as he looks over my body.

I was wearing the green plaid skirt. And a basic white, collared button down. Along with the schools signature green cardigan and the tie.

I had so many layers on it was crazy. Since it was a more chilly day in Boston I had my tights on, but under the tights I had Thermo leggings on to keep me warm.

Honestly if people at public schools think the dress code is strict they should go to a private school for a day.

Once three buttons from the top of my collared shirt were unbuttoned and I was dress coded for it.

Atleast the skirt wasn’t horrendously long.

It could still be considered a mini skirt if you squint.

“You say that every time you see me in it” I scoff. I can’t help the fact I’m being sassy, I’m just in a horrible mood.

“I mean it.” He answers.

But before i can respond I hear an annoying voice from in front of me. “Hey Chris.” I turn my head to look at Eva.

The bitch is smiling wide. She was wearing the khaki skirt and the navy blazer with the black tights.

I purse my lips. God I wish I could dress however I want to for school.

“Hi Eva.” Chris greets her with a hug.

I physically try to hold back a scowl. They talk about something and I drown Out Eva’s pitched, bitchy tone.

Of corse Chris wouldn’t pick up on the flirting. But I see the way she smiles at him. The way her eyes trail over his face and linger at his lips for too long.

And I don’t know why I’m getting all territorial, but I guess I’m scared that Chris won’t have time to hang out anymore if he starts dating.

Either that or I just know how much of a bitch she is and I could treat him better than she ever could.

“Y/n this is Eva, Eva this is y/n” Chris makes us shake hands. He introduces us like we don’t know each other.

She chuckles at the silly gesture. She doesn’t hate me and I don’t hate her either. I just don’t like her, and the way she acts.

I’m rich, sure. And I’m more wealthy then her, but atleast I don’t act like a brat.

We start to walk, with them chatting, and me just trailing behind them.

We get to Eva’s car, she’d said something about driving him home or something. Does this girl know he lives like more than 40 minutes away?

My skin crawls at the thought of them being together in her car for that long. All alone.

“Chris come here” I wave him over for a second. Eva doesn’t question it instead going on her phone.

He walks over to me. I grab him by the shoulder to pull him down as I whisper in his ear. “You always pick the worst people to befriend.”

I let go of him. He groans rolling his eyes. His past two friendships with girls he befriended had ended horribly. But it was so predictable.

“Y/n/n. Come on” he scoffs. I turn to walk away to my own car to drive home.

Until he grabs my arm again pulling me back. “Can we talk.” He mumbles his arms wrapping a round my torso his chest pressed against my back.

“Not now.” I huff pushing myself off of him slightly. He wasn’t holding me tightly so I get out of his grip fairly easily.

“Y/n” he huffs.

“Don’t start.” I sass at him. I clench my jaw. I feel disappointed but not surprised. Eva wasn’t the type to show guys she’s interested in just how bitchy she really is.

“I gotta go, have fun.” I smile at him sarcastically. I let my smile drop as fast as it had appeared finally walking away from them.

But when I glance over my shoulder he’s already standing next to her smiling down at her.

★ ★ ★

The whole week after she found out I knew him, she’d constantly call him, and be around me and tell me stuff about him as if I didn’t know.

She’d sho me pictures of them together, she’d tell me jokes that I’ve heard before.

It was just the same old recycled bullshit.

He’d told her that we’ve known each other for basically forever. Why the hell was she talking to me like I didn’t know him?

That weekend I went over to the triplets house like I usually do, ready to sleepover.

I was in nicks bedroom talking to him.

“God, Chris always has terrible friends. And he needs to stop talking to everyone he sees.” Nick says with an eye roll.

This was our weekly complaining session.

“I know right, he befriended some girl from my school-“ I’m cut off by Nick.

“Eva?” I nod.

“I met her a few days ago and she’s so annoying.” He agrees slapping my arm a few times as he gets worked up.

“Right.” I scoff agreeing with him.

“And she totally has a thing for Chris.” He rolls his eyes hard.

I purse my lips. Good to know that I’m not delusional and that someone else sees it too.

After that the conversation topic shifts until Nick is ranting about some random TikTok song, and about how it’s obviously written to go TikTok viral and whatnot.

★ ★ ★

“Where are you gonna sleep tonight?” Nick asks, lying flat on his back, on his bed.

I slept over almost every weekend. And usually I’d rotate between whose bed space I’ll take up.

It is Friday, I always come over Friday after school. And then I stay until Sunday. And Sunday afternoon I go back home.

I always stay over on the weekends unless I have like an upcoming exam or something.

“Uhm.” I pause. I should sleep in Matt’s room tonight. But I want to talk with Chris more.

“Chris” I state. Nick doesn’t even question it.

The last time I’d slept over was over a month ago. and while sure, we did hang out in the past month, I spent all my weekends studying.

Nick had no mind to question me. He couldn’t care less. I could tell he’d missed me, and knowing I was sleeping over was comforting no matter where I slept.

We talk for a bit more until I stand up and pick up my overnight bag. I hug Nick and tell him I’m gonna head to Chris’ room.

We really need to talk about making good friends, and who to not befriend.

Because it keeps happening that Chris will pick out the shittiest people to befriend. And god it’s so irritating having to listen to him complain after they ‘betray’ him.

I walk upstairs to Chris’ room and unceremoniously swing the door open.

Once the door opens I’m immediately greeted with the sight of the pale pink LED’s on. There he was laying on his bed laying ON his side his phone up to his face.

“Oh hi y/n” he smiles at me briefly before going back to staring at his phone.

Chris usually called me any nickname under the sun before calling me my actual name.

Eva’s piercing voice echos out of the phone speakers making my expression sour immediately.

“Hi y/n” she says loudly. I can’t help the eye roll.

“Chris.” I hiss under my breath my eyes narrowed in a glare. He glances back at me his lips pursing in mild annoyance.

He tells her he’s got to go and that he’ll call her back. Chris then hangs up, slightly sitting up, his back pressed against his head bored.

I walk in fully, now closing the door behind me.

I put my overnight bag on his desk.

“I think she likes you.” I say simply my lips tugged into a straight line.

He huffs a laugh as if he thinks I’m joking.

I look over my shoulder, observing the grey sweatpants and white wife beater combo.

He crossed his arms staring back at me.

“I’m dead serious.” I say flatly. “Ever since she found out that I know you, she’s been coming to me in breaks and talking about you like I give a fuck.”

He poked his tongue into his cheek his expression falling flat “you’re serious?” He asks his voice painfully monotone.

“Of corse you didn’t realize” I roll my eyes turning back to look at my backpack.

“Whatever” I roll my eyes. I grab my make up bag that I always had in his room and I walk out the room to the bathroom to take off my make up.

After a few minutes I come back to see him on his phone again.

“Shit you’re right.”

Chris breathes out not even looking at me just saying that. He was going through previous messages only now seeing the underlying flirtation in her choice of words.

I raise my eyebrow at him before it registers what he is saying.

“I know” I say simply.

“How do I let her down slowly?” He asks his eyes finally going up to meet mine. His blue eyes only seem more exaggerated under the pink LED lights.

Before walking away from the door I lock it, he sends me a questioning glance but ultimately doesn’t say anything.

“You know, like how do I tell her I’m not interested, without saying that?” He adds still looking at me.

I walk up to the side of his bed.

I then roll my eyes getting on the bed. I sit next to him my back against the headboard as well.

We’re both quiet, the air in the room thickening. I can practically feel my skin burning up.

“How about you make a bold statement?” I break the silence after a moment.

Before he can respond I turn and get on his lap. My eyes are dark as I Simply sit on his thighs.

His hands go to my waist out of instinct. My arms wrapping around his neck.

He huffs out a breath his cheeks tinted a slight red. “What? you wanna make a sex tape or something?” He rolls his eyes.

I roll my eyes back at him. “That would be bold, but I don’t want her to see your dick.”

“Ooh possessive?” He teases. Chris unconsciously squeezes my side making me whine under my breath.

He chuckles at the sound, but before he can comment on it I’m speaking again. “I was thinking hickey , but if you want to fuck so bad then-“ I cut myself off.

“We can do both” he assures.

I lick my lips. And before I know it I move his face with my hand tilting his head to the side. My lips touch his jawline. I kiss down his jawline to his neck before I start to suck harshly.

He lets out a harsh breath his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“Easy ma, you got all the time In The world.”

Ma. I genuinely don’t know where he heard that, but at some point he just started calling me ma or mama.

Like I said, he used every pet name under the sun, before saying my actual name.

I pull away for a second my eyes scanning the small purple bruise on his neck.

“No.” I breathe out harshly before starting to peck his neck again. Until I bite down, relatively low on his neck close to the other hickey.

I bite hard, making sure my teeth print would be there while also sucking another hickey into his skin.

He hisses at the harsh feeling, his hands clenching and unclenching on my waist. He doesn’t stop me tho. Quite contrary, I hear a few whines leave his mouth. His sounds sounding borderline like moans.

I pull away admiring his neck.

I move the strap of his wife beater to the side, kissing down his collarbone. I suck more marks into his skin, until I deem it enough.

“You wanna tap this, handsome?” I tease , my eyes meeting his pale blue ones.

His eyes are half lidded and his pupils blown out in pleasure.

It’s really late by now. It’s dark outside. And the light pink LED lights make his blue eyes look even bluer.

“Please?” He asks sweetly his tone feigning innocence.

I can feel the hardness press up against my clothed core. I grin back at him, my eyes dark in lust and half lidded like his.

I cross my arms and tug off my t shirt. I throw it to the ground, letting Chris Bask in the sight of my bra covered chest.

The lust radiating off of him only seems to double.

“So pretty.” He coos. And before I know it he’s leaning forward and kissing my chest.

He glances up at me through his lashes and mumbles against my skin. “Can I leave hickeys too?”

I chuckle at the question. It really didn’t matter for me. My schools dress code is strict and I would have to cover them up anyway.

“Under the neckline” I nod simply. And before I realize it he’s sucking on the tender skin of one of my boobs.

He licks and sucks at the skin, half my boob covered in his saliva now.

I tug in his top. He groans against me, obviously not wanting to pull away. But he eventually does, I pull the wife beater over his head and throw it to the floor.

His hand goes up to cup my other boob while he kisses down from my collarbone to my chest and then sucks another hickey at the top of it.

I card my hand through his hair while I don’t bother pulling him off. He lets me stroke his hair moaning into my skin.

He pulls away, his eyes even darker than before. his hair now messy as well.

I get off of him. He groans at the loss of contact. I can see he’s about to complain. But before he can, I start to undo my pajama pants and slide them down.

My black lacy thong and my black lacy bra match.

Chris had made fun of me for wearing such ‘slutty’ underwear before. After all whenever I showered here I left some of my clothes, namely my underwear, here.

I had my own little section in Chris’ closet filled with my panties and bras.

“Fuck.” He breaths out closing his eyes briefly and then opening them again as if checking if he was seeing things.

He starts to shift and tug down his own sweatpants. He eagerly tugs them off along with his boxers letting his cock spring free.

My mouth quite literally waters at the sight of his hard dick lying flat against his stomach.

He lays down flat on his back looking to his side to look me in the eyes.

“Please ride me ma.”

He says in such a pleading and whiny tone, how could I say no to that.

I walk past his bed to his desk and pick up my phone from where I’d put it.

I walk back tugging the thong off swiftly. I get on top of him straddling his torso. I grind myself against his dick, feeling it glide between my wet folds.

I tug on my bra trying to get it off. And when I finally do, it’s also discarded quickly.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous mama.” He sighs looking at my boobs, both of them having small hickeys on them.

He puts his two hands on my waist lifting me slightly. He trails one hand down to my folds examining my pussy.

I feel him push his middle finger into my cunt abruptly to wich I moan.

He hums as if he was thinking. “So tight baby.” He coos his second hand on my waist caressing my skin gently.

“Gotta stretch this pussy out. We don’t want it to tear do we?” Chris asks sarcastically, obviously joking.

I lick my lips and let out a dry chuckle. His girth really did look painfully big. Atleast for what I was used to.

It wasn’t like he was that big, but it was definitely well above average.

I hand him my phone so he can start recording and that’s just what he does. He uses his hand from my waist to film this.

The camera pointing right at my pussy. He pushes a second finger in, briefly finger fucking me and scissoring his fingers to stretch me more.

“So fucking soaked.” He groans under this breath.

Chris takes his fingers out of me grabbing his hard dick and jerking it for a second. I lift myself and he positions it at my cunt, while also making sure to keep the camera at the right angle.

I push myself down letting out a breathy moan.

His hand, that’s not holding my phone, goes to my waist to steady me.

I suddenly push myself down on him completely. I whine loudly, my body jerking forward at the impact. He groans at the feeling of being balls deep in me.

“You okay?” He asks rubbing my waist gently in comfort.

“Yea” I breathe out my eyes closing as I try to get used to the feeling.

My legs are already numb and I’m already questioning why I’m on top.

I start to slowly bounce myself on him. He watches through my phone, his eyes glued to where we connect, seemingly fascinated by the sight.

“So tight for me.” He breaths out harshly trying to hold back loud groans. He was painfully aware of the fact that his siblings and parents were home.

I start to bounce on him more listening to him shower me in praises and compliments.

“Fuck.” His eyes stay trained on the phone screen, but he occasionally glances up to look at me.

I start to ride him harder the compliments and praise only making me wetter.

“God, come on, get yourself off on my dick like the slut you are.” He huffs. His free hand lightly on my waist to help me steady my movements.

He tries not to be too loud, both for the camera and because everyone is home.

I lean forward slightly and take my phone from his grasp.

I film his face and his reactions now.

His hands go to my waist slightly squeezing my skin as I start to rock my hips harder.

“Good boy, be quiet yeah.”

I feel the knot in my stomach tighten threatening to snap. The constant hit to my sweet spot is so overwhelming, and before I know it I’m releasing on his dick.

my hands are shaky but my phone is still angled at him, catching his mouth dropping in pleasure.

I clench around him letting out soft whines and moans, while Chris uses his hands to make me grind on him.

After a second when I calm down he grins. Chris holds his hand out for the phone that I give to him. He lifts me slightly to show the Camera the white circle my cum created around his length.

He makes no move to switch our positions so I just grind into him.

Chris turns the recording off and puts my phone on the nightstand. His hands find their way to my hips holding me tightly.

But before he can switch our positions like he was lplanning to, his phone starts ringing.

I glance ova seeing Eva as the caller ID. I roll my eyes. I feel pretty over stimulated already, but I want her to know.

“Pick up.” I demand under my breath. Our eyes meet for a moment but he eventually complies.

He leans over and takes his phone, picking up the call with a frown.

As soon as I hear her annoying voice i start to ride him again, making sure that the slapping sounds are loud enough.

He tries not to groan at the movements, trying to keep himself together.

“Eva, uh” he pauses his eyes locking with mine once more. He can’t help it when his free hand on my waist urges me to go harder.

“I’m kind of busy right now”

But she doesn’t get the hint and questions him. “Too busy to talk to me?”

Fucking pick me.

“Yeah well” he lets out a soft groan, pulling the phone away so she doesn’t hear it too well.

She starts to yap about some unimportant shit. Chris puts the phone on the side of the bed sitting up.

I stop moving due to Chris harsh grip. He pulls me off and flips us around.

I grab the pillow re- adjusting it so the side of my face is buried in it, my ass up for him.

He grins a soft slap echoing through the room. He kneeds my ass trying to smooth the pain of the slap.

He spreads my cheeks and pushes himself back in. He immediately starts up a harsh and fast pace fucking me into the pillow.

“Are you having sex right now?” Eva questions sounding like a brat who was just denied a toy

He leans over for a second picking up his phone. “No I’m not, why would you think that” he scoffs continuing his relentless attack to my sweet spot.

My core throbs around him, clenching to try and suck him back in.

“Oh my god you are-“ before she can rant about god knows what, Chris hangs up the phone.

He scoffs his grip in my waist tightens as he continues to forcefully pull me back on him.

He goes to the camera app on his phone starting to film once again.

He admires the way his entire length disappears into my tight cunt, and the way he has a white ring around the base of his cock from my previous release.

He picks up pace even more, if that was even humanly possible, until I feel like im going to cum again.

I turn my face and burry it in the pillow trying to muffle my noises. Because honestly I’d be surprised if the whole house didn’t already know what we’re doing.

“Close” I whine out between incoherent moans.

“Me too ma. Hold it for a bit, yeah?” He says sweetly his harsh actions not so sweet.

“Where do you want it?” He keeps glancing between the camera and me, sometimes angling the camera to show my back and the back of my head too.

“Inside” I whine. And that mildly catches Chris off guard.

He only picks up pace tho, his palm meets my butt again, in a harsh slap. I moan at the feeling. “Come on come for me” he demands.

And before I know it the knot in my stomach snaps once more my thighs shaking and my cunt clenching a round him.

The Camera is focused on my cunt. His thrusts get more sloppy and messy until he gives me one last harsh thrust.

Chris releases into me, filling me up to the brim and stuffing me.

We both stay like that for a moment to catch our breathes.

He stops the recording and throws the phone next to me, onto the bed.

He trails his hand over my ass and lower back, before gently grabbing my hips and pulling out.

He lets out a breath seeing his length covered in our combined juices, and me leaking.

He pushes me on my side slightly, so I’m laying down fully. I sigh turning my face into the pillow my arm under it.

“You okay?” He asks softly. Chris kisses my shoulder softly.

I just realized that we hadn’t kissed once. This entire time, his lips hadn’t been on mine not once. And I don’t know if he did that on purpose or not.

“ m’ good” I sigh closing my eyes briefly.

I nuzzle my face into the pillow, breathing out. I blink my eyes open again sighing.

I feel his eyes burn into the side of my face.

“Were you jealous?”

My eyes shoot open and I turn my head slightly to look at him. “About what?” I say simply playing dumb.

“Why do you not like her.” He asks again.

“I never liked her.”

“Right, and you don’t like that she likes me.” He states simply.

I scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself” I huff and nuzzle my face into the pillow.

“You literally have my cum inside of you right now, ma.” He huffs in response.

I purse my lips burring my face harder into the pillow.

“I like that.” He says again making me look back at him. Chris is looking down at me with a sweet smile

“What?” I ask and look at him from the corner of my eyes.

“That you’re jealous.” Chris replies, his smirk ever so cocky.

“Why would I be jealous?” You huff, replying sarcastically.

“Don’t deny it ma. I think it’s cute.” Chris chuckles. He grins down at you victoriously. He lays down next to you staring into your eyes.

Masterlist

A/N: this was so fun to write lmao. sorry for not posting in the past few days, I was just busy with school and didn't have the motivation to write. Feel free to to send me stuff my req and asks are open <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf

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illyrianbitch · 26 days

Text

An Education in Malice

Pairing: Vanserra!Reader x Azriel

Summary: With the sharp tongue of your notorious family, you are Azriel's most tantalizing challenge yet. It only takes one small meeting before you both realize that the line between hate and desire is dangerously thin.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, rough, angry, hate sex basically. sexual degradation (name calling), p in v penetration, sex in da woods, bickering and insults, inner circle slander

Word Count: 6.6k

a/n: i know technically we wouldnt be a princess... but we r a high lord family so were running with it for the sexual tension. also dedicated to my soulmate and the brilliant babe, @itsswritten who told me to write sumthin smutty like this. thank her 🫡

Part Two

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

“Hello, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched at the sound.

He’d almost forgotten how grating your voice was to his ears, how it made his body tense with an emotion he could never quite describe. He turned around slowly, taking you in where you stood leaning casually against a tree.

The dress you wore was reminiscent of autumn court elegance, fabric cascading around you in rich hues of crimson, gold, and amber, like the vibrant foliage of the season brought to life, sleeves like flickering flames. There was a sense of wrongness in seeing such an elegant form amidst the wild, your commanding presence even more striking than that of your other family members. If he didn't know who you were, he would have been tempted to describe you as something of unparalleled beauty, a vision amidst a forest of wilderness.

But Azriel knew who you were. He knew what you were.

He had noticed the similarities between you and your brothers quickly, from your mannerisms down to the curve of your lips. You and Eris shared the same snarky smirk– a smirk Az wanted to wipe clean off your faces. You were using it now, holding his gaze with the corners of your lips upturned and amused eyes.

“You look thrilled to see me,” you said.

Az did nothing to hide his disdain as he narrowed his eyes at you. “Where is your brother?”

“Busy,” you responded, absentmindedly running the tips of your fingers along the tree you leaned on. You took a moment to observe the bark before you turned to face Azriel again, a small taunting smile on your lips once more. “I’ll let him know you missed him.”

Azriel held your gaze for a moment, a tick in his jaw as he let out a short exhale. Then, he was turning around to leave, a clear dismissal. A small flicker of anger rose in your body. Quickly, you winnowed in front of him, your sudden appearance setting his shadows into a frenzied dance around him, coalescing into a swirling mass around his neck like a collar of live snakes ready to strike.

“Don’t be rude,” you said, “I’m here on Eris’ behalf. Give me information to report back to him.”

“Nothing to report,” Azriel said, voice flat. He stared at you for a moment, eyes scanning you. And then he was making another notion to leave, brushing past you with a small shove to your shoulder. You nearly laughed at the action, at how easy he was becoming to rile up— at how much your presence bothered him.

“You don’t want to stay and chat?” You said over your shoulder. A flutter of triumph spread in your chest when you heard his footsteps come to a halt. You turned to face him, his back still to you, shadows swirling around his body like black flames. “It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other.”

Azriel turned to face you, a small scowl on his beautiful features. “Not long enough.”

You laughed, the sound stroking his body in a way that sent shivers down his spine. You let out a sigh.

“I get bored in Autumn sometimes, you know?”

Briefly, something flickered in Azriel’s hazel eyes, but it faded faster than you could decipher what it meant or where it came from. He titled his head slightly, eyes taking you in fully.

“Not enough cruelty for you?”

“Something like that.”

You both held each other's stares, his icy gaze against your fiery one. He lifted his chin slightly, rolling his shoulders as if to straighten his already stiff posture. You didn’t miss the way his wings extended slightly from their tucked in position, just enough to stand as a warning, as a reminder of who he was— what he was.

“This is a waste of my time.”

Yet, Azriel made no move to leave— not this time.

“Because you have such important matters to return to?” You asked with a raised brow, “You said it yourself, nothing to report. So, are there some damsels in distress to be saved? Something to make you feel important?”

You made sure to pay extra attention to when you mocked his previous words, tone dropping slightly deeper to imitate his. Azriel’s eyes narrowed even more, a dark wave of evident anger washing through his face, nostrils flared, jaw clenched. You bit the inside of your cheek to contain your grin.

You were playing with something dangerous, this you knew. But Azriel was so fun to rile up, so easy to. You understood, now, why your brother seemed to enjoy these meetings so much. You’d assumed Eris was some sort of masochist, somehow finding pleasure in the necessity of being allies with the Night Court, the same people who so commonly disregarded you and your family as evil and cruel— although, they were right to a certain extent. But perhaps Eris had found some sort of entertainment with this affair.

“Stop talking,” was Azriel’s only reply.

“Why?”

He took a step forward. You made sure to stay still, to hold his gaze as he peered down at you.

“Because you’re trying to get a rise out of me,” Azriel responded, his voice cool, “and it will not work.”

“Oh please,” you scoffed. “Play the unphased act all you’d like, we both know its bullshit.”

He said nothing in response, his eyes remaining locked on yours. Azriel’s stare was harder now, colder. A clear warning was written in his features, carved out between his clenched jaw and narrowed eyes: do not fuck with me.

But you welcomed the challenge. If he wasn’t going to admit it, you were more than willing to prove your point.

“You put my brother in a chokehold in a public meeting. You have no self-control. You’re just constantly one spark away from igniting.”

Azriel growled. “Your brother deserved it.”

You raised your brow in a small taunt.

“Because he called your precious Morrigan a slut?”

Whether Azriel wanted to admit it or not, you were very easily tearing at his resolve. He moved quickly, his hand naturally falling to the dagger at his hip. Shadows moved closer to you, but with a swift movement of your fingers, they were met with the spark of a small flame, quickly retracting back into their mass form near Azriel’s shoulders. You winnowed back to your original place, back against the rough tree bark.

“Careful, Shadowsinger,” you sneered, “You’re forgetting your manners.You didn’t even let me finish.”

Azriel wore a clear scowl now, brows furrowed as he held your gaze from afar, hand still on his weapon. There was something deadly about the way you made him feel, the intensity of those feelings far surpassing any hatred he held for your brothers– Eris, specifically. In truth, the more time Az spent near Lucien, the more he saw him as someone good– and the less similarities he seemed to bear with you, his conniving snake of a sister. You opened your mouth to taunt him once more.

“I don’t agree with my brother,” you said, “Hell, I admire Morrigan for her freedom. I do love a pretty dress. So, I would have called her something else… a liar, perhaps?”

Those words were all it took to light Azriel’s fuse.

Within a blink, he was in front of you, the cold steel of a dagger, Truth-Teller you presumed, pressed against your neck. His wings flared out angrily behind him. Shadows surged around you, a suffocating darkness descending like a shroud, swallowing the sunlight and leaving only a void of darkness. You stared into Azriel's eyes— cold, and angry.

"Shut up," he snarled.

For a moment, a sense of fear flickered deep in your stomach, but you swallowed it down, the flame diminishing before it could properly ignite. Even as his shadows threatened to consume you both whole, you refused to back down, meeting Azriel's gaze with a defiant stare of your own. And then, you grinned. A cruel, wicked gesture that made his blood boil.

“Nice to see you perform without an audience, too.”

Azriel's voice was laden with disdain as he responded, words dripping with venom. "You and your brother are exactly the same."

But instead of flinching at the accusation, you maintained your smirk, unfazed by the blade pressed against your neck. "Which brother? I have quite a few," you countered, your tone teasing, almost playful.

Azriel's grip tightened, images of your family conjuring in his mind. Az could barely remember the names of your other brothers, their features blurring into a blurry mess of fiery auburn and copper. Instead, his mind focused on you– the female before him, under his grip and his dagger, standing next to the two males he despised for different reasons.

“You can decide,” Azriel finally said, “they’re all equally terrible.”

“I’d say Lucien is a good male,” you laughed bitterly, “I’m willing to bet your sweet Elain would agree.”

A surge of fury rose within him, a deep primal instinct to lash out and silence your taunts once and for all. But even as he bristled with anger, he realized you were right.

He was constantly teetering on the edge, one step away from losing control. It had gotten worse recently, watching everyone around him find their place, their people; Elain growing closer to Lucien, his brothers spending time with their mates. Azriel was frustrated. He was angry. You’d done exactly what he told you wouldn’t happen– gotten a rise out of him. He hated it, hated you, hated himself even more.

Azriel took a deep breath, your heated gaze still on him, eyes narrowed, a small smirk on your lips that he filled him with a burning anger. It wasn’t as if he could kill you, no, he couldn’t even really hurt you. One mark on the Vanserra’s youngest and only daughter would be a mark for war. This was a battle Az couldn't win, indulging your provocations for the mere sake of your entertainment. He needed to calm down. Regain control.

The shadows around you began to recede and sunlight filtered back into the clearing as Azriel pushed you away with a snarl. You leaned your head back against the tree as you took a deep breath.

He studied you for a moment before saying, "You'd think someone as pretentious as you wouldn't need to rely on irritating someone for an ounce of attention."

There was a subtle shift in your demeanor—a swallowed response, a flicker of vulnerability. His gaze followed the movement down to the column of your throat.

“Pretentious?”

You gave a bitter laugh.

"Yes, pretentious. All of you Vanserras," Azriel retorted with a bitter edge, “Every single one.”

"That's ironic coming from you. You think we're pretentious?"

Azriel's gaze hardened. "Yes. Cruel, evil, and vile. You think you're better than all of us."

Your mouth widened as you scoffed. And then you let out a laugh of disbelief.

"Oh my Gods, does it ever get tiring?" you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Wallowing in your own self-pity and then using it as a means to hate everyone outside of your incestuous little circle?"

"Do not speak of my family," Azriel snapped.

You smirked. “So you admit your family is incestuous?”

Azriel said nothing, a sudden realization that his anger, once again, had beat him to his rationality, somehow giving you another weapon to use against him. He clenched his jaw, feeling a simmering heat building in his stomach.

"You stand in front of me and pretend to be shocked when I call you for what you are?" he countered with a sneer, “Your family isn't quiet about their disdain for my family, for my kind, or for me."

You lifted your chin. “You don’t even like your own kind, Shadowsinger.”

There was another flare of his nostrils and you knew that you’d gotten him once again. Azriel’s fists clenched at his sides, a sight lost to you as his shadows covered them. You continued as he stayed silent.

“I will admit, my family can be a bit narrow minded. Why would I hate you for the things you can’t control? Where's the fun in that?”

Again, Azriel remained silent. He knew if he made a move, if he said a word, it would likely be something he regretted, something that would come back to bite him in the ass.

"I don’t hate you because you’re from the Night Court, or an Illyrian, or a bastard, or whatever it is you tell yourself at night," you continued, your words like a dagger aimed at his pride. "I hate you because you are hot-headed and arrogant. You’ve held a grudge against Eris for something that wasn’t his fault and have utterly screwed Lucien to no end. Your little family is a disease.”

Azriel’s resolve was cracking. He didn’t have enough self-control for this, for you. He’d barely mustered up the diplomacy needed to meet with Eris.

“Stop talking,” he said through gritted teeth. He felt it again, the flicker of frustration that threatened to engulf him like an unattended flame.

You gave him a withering glare. “Or what, you’ll make me?”

Azriel blinked, his eyes scanning your body instinctively. There was something about the words you spoke, the way you had spoken them, that made his body shiver. A small jolt of electricity passed through his muscles. Unfortunately for him, you caught it as quick as it manifested. Your eyes widened as you let out a dry laugh, forming a small smirk on your lips.

“Oh my gods,” you said, taking a step closer, “I bet you’d like that, wouldn't you? Is that why you’re such an ass today?

Azriel’s wings twitched behind him. You gave him a mocking pout as you stared up at him.

“No one to torture, no sweet female to make love to? Poor, powerful, Spymaster.”

Azriel thought for a moment. He thought about the anger boiling in his body, how on edge he’d been, how every little thing had been setting him off. He thought about you, in front of him, a female he despised from previous meetings– loud-mouthed, vicious, and selfish. A female from a family he hated, a family that took things from his family, from him.

And then he began thinking of how great it would feel to show them how wrong they were about him. To prove to them that they weren’t better than him, that he was just as, if not more, powerful than their damned bloodline.

You had been right again. He was pent up. He hadn’t taken a lover recently, hadn’t fucked anyone since that one almost-night with Elain– where she’d been sweet, sensitive, and gentle. But even before, with the females who’d asked for it rough, told him they could handle it, he hadn’t indulged himself too far. He still respected them. They were still wide-eyed and kind, sweet to a certain extent. He didn’t want to hurt them. They were ladies. Azriel respected ladies.

“I said stop talking,” Azriel growled.

There was a tick in his jaw.

“And I said, make me.”

But you, you weren’t a lady. You weren’t sensitive, sweet, or kind. You were a viper. A snake with beautiful lips and a body he found incredibly inviting— not that he’d ever admit it to anyone. But standing in front of him, that defiant look in your eyes, the pride seeping off you, the smirk on your lips… Azriel felt hungry. He felt ravenous.

So, he thought for one more moment. And then he was taking a step forward, one that you matched with an equal stepback.

“Y/n,” Azriel drawled as he continued to take another step. You matched him again, moving back while you glared at him. “Are you not getting enough attention? Is that it?”

Your back hit the tree and you let out a small exhale as Azriel took a final step forward, inches away from you as he stared down with a dark gaze.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You bit out.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You attempted to regulate your breathing as his eyes drank you in, a clear and unashamed desire painted over his face.

“Do I look like a fucking mind-reader?”

Azriel gave a dry chuckle. You were unraveling before him, scrambling for control. “Such a vile mouth for a princess.”

“Fuck you.”

“Is that why you came?” He brought a hand to your chin, roughly tilting your face up to look directly at him. “Do you want to be fucked, Y/n?”

The answer was yes, you did. There was a sickening sense of excitement that ran through your blood, a heat pooling between your thighs. But you wouldn’t admit it. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction, weren’t about to prove him right. So instead you stayed quiet, pulling your face out of his hands and turning your cheek.

“I came for intel,” you said through gritted teeth, “in Eris’ place.”

Azriel gave another chuckle, something dark and humorous. His hand trailed to the side of your neck, pushing the hair off your shoulders to expose the line of your collarbone. You swallowed.

“Interesting,” he said. He leaned in, lips against your ear. “Then what is that desire I smell?”

You let out a sharp exhale as he leaned away. Taking a deep breath, you looked at him, biting the inside of your cheek at your body's betrayal. You needed to balance this.

“Maybe its you that needs a good fuck, Shadowsinger. Like I said, you seem real pent up. Noone quite scratching that itch?”

But Azriel no longer seemed angry at your words, instead, he seemed amused– hungry. He was quiet for a second too long, simply staring at you. A sense of irritation prickled at your skin.

“What?” You snapped.

“I can admit that,” Azriel said coolly, “if you can admit something to me.”

“What, are we trading secrets now? I wasn’t aware this was a children's sleepover.”

Azriel didn’t respond. You registered the movement of a dark shadow as it fled from his body, slowly sneaking around your collarbone. You attempted to hit it away, but it quickly slithered back to Azriel, running up his chest to curl around his ear. He smirked.

“When was the last time someone fucked you, Y/n?”

The air left your lungs as you let out a small gasp. You blinked. Quickly, you regained your composure.

“Excuse me?”

Azriel kept his smirk. “It must be hard getting anyone to touch you when you’re so sheltered by those males you call brothers.”

He reached out a hand to your bare collarbone, but you caught his wrist in your hand, allowing it to hover in your grip. His eyes slowly trailed up to your face, heavy-lidded and darkened with a sense of attention that made your stomach clench.

“What the hell are you getting at?” You sneered.

Azriel simply stared at you, the ghost of a smirk still plastered on his lips. His reactions had you gritting your teeth in anger and rubbing your thighs in anticipation at the same time— you hated it.

“Don’t ask questions you know the answers to.”

“You're pathetic,” you spat, “Save your games for a bitch who cares.”

But you still gripped his hand in yours, still felt the heat radiating off his skin. And you made no motion to move. No motion to let him pull back. Azriel didn’t fail to notice this, either.

“That snarky mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble. But I bet that's why you use it, right?”

Your breathing was heavier now. Azriel’s gaze flickered to where you still gripped his wrist.

“You can fool everyone, Y/n,” he said, “But not me.”

You shouldn’t have enjoyed the way his voice sounded on your skin, shouldn’t have felt a breathlessness filling your body as he spoke to you. But you felt it. And it was a burning, hungry desire that made your chest tighten. This was what you wanted, it was what you needed.

Azriel was right. The bastard had read you like a book. Your family, your brothers, never let anyone near you for fear of embarrassment– fear of you bringing some sense of shame. But Azriel was right. You wanted it. You craved it. You wanted to forget who you were, to give up the control you always had to wield.

Before you could overthink it, you loosened your grip on Azriel’s hand and pulled it towards you, situating it on the side of your throat. You let out a small gasp when he quickly wrapped his fingers around the base of your neck.

And then he was pulling you into him with a deep and angry kiss. All teeth, tongue, and fire, mouths crashing together almost painfully, but neither of you stopped. With every movement of his mouth, of his tongue on yours, a dormant flame deep within you awoke.

A primal desire surged through Azriel’s veins like wildfire, the scent of you– of your want, of your desire– filling his senses in a way that had his cock throbbing. There was no room for rational thought, only the raw, unbridled passion that engulfed him in a fiery embrace. His hand found its way into your hair, fingers brushing along your scalp as he yanked your hair to expose your neck to him. His lips wandered to your exposed collarbone, giving a harsh suck to the skin near the column of your throat.

“Is this what you wanted?”

“Shut up,” you responded, reaching your hands out to fumble with his leather clothes. Azriel pulled back slightly, grabbing your wandering hands in his. You let out a sound of protest as he ran sloppy kissing along your neck.

“Oh how i’d love to fuck that foul mouth of yours,” Azriel murmured against your skin, his mouth reaching your ear. “But we’re short on time.” He took your lobe in between his teeth and you let out a small groan.

“I bet all you’ll need is a few minutes– and that's being generous.”

Azriel’s hand gripped at your waist, traveling up your chest to roughly grab your breast through your dress.

“No wonder you’re so insufferable.” he said, his voice amused as he pulled back, his other hand tugged at your hair once more. “You haven’t been fucked properly.”

You snarled. "Fuck you."

Azriel grinned.

"Oh, princess, I will.”

And then he was pulling the front of your dress down, exposing your bare breasts before him, nipples peaked in the fresh air. You let out a gasp as a small faint ripping sound traveled to your ears. Before you had a chance to react, Azriel was spinning you around, pulling your back against his chest, one hand bracketing your throat as the other traveled down your stomach, grabbing at the fabric at your dress.

"But first, you're going to beg me for it,” he breathed into your ear, his voice so low you felt it more than you heard it. His words traveled straight to your core, leaving you dripping with want. Yet, you refused to let the words leave your lips. You gritted your teeth, bristled at the suggestion— pride and defiance warring within you.

“Like hell I will.”

Azriel made a sound of disapproval, his mouth still running along your ear, “No?” he asked, hand slowly trailing from your throat to your chest, his fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake. “So you don’t want me to touch you?”

His hand fell over your breast, cupping it in his palm as his thumb brushed over your nipple. You watched as black tendrils of shadow danced around his forearm, meeting where his fingers tweaked your nipple. Their cool gentle touch sent a ripple of sensation through you and your head fell back against him as you let out a small whimper.

“Stop being a fucking tease.”

Azriel found that he loved the way you whimpered, loved the tinge of frustration in your voice as he touched you. Here you were, melting into his touch, attempting to avoid admitting in words what your body was showing in actions.

“I asked you to do something.”

He rolled your nipple between his fingers. You let out a deep exhale, pushing yourself back onto him, grinding into the evident bulge that pressed against you, the thin material of your dress doing nothing to disguise his hardened length.

“Just fuck me already,” you turned your head to catch his gaze, darkened and pupils blown with lust. “I know you want to.”

You covered his hand in yours, molding his hand into your touch, urging him to grab your breast again– harder, firmer.

The corners of his lips quirked up. “That doesn’t matter. Beg for it.”

Agonizingly slow, his hands roamed your trembling form, lighting flames of desire that you almost feared would consume you whole. Second by second, you felt yourself losing control. The heat of his touch seared through you, eroding the last crumbs of your resistance until all that remained was a burning need to be filled by him, to succumb to the primal urges coursing through your veins. You wanted him. You needed him.

“Please,” you whispered, the truth spilling from your lips in a voice so meek you barely recognized it as your own.

"Please what?"

With a trembling breath, you finally let go of the last shreds of your resistance, your voice coming out in a deep, frustrated plea. “Please fuck me.”

Azriel's lips curved into a predatory smirk.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice low and sultry as he pulled away from you. In one movement he was pulling your ass closer to him, forcing your body forward to brace yourself on the tree. In seconds you felt the cool air on your body as Azriel pushed your dress above your hips. Naturally, you felt your body bowing at the sensation. He let out a groan at the sight.

Then he was spreading your legs, baring you before him, glistening cunt on full display. His rough hands gripped your bare ass. He massaged it for a moment, but the motion was brief, and soon you felt a hard hand land on the fat of your cheek. You let out a small shriek, but it was followed by a low moan as he delivered another smack. Azriel smirked at the sound of it, at the sight of your ass reddening with his handprint.

“Are you going to fuck me or not?” You managed to grit out as you pushed your ass out further, “I’m growing bored.”

“Bored?” He ran finger through the wetness that pooled at your core. “Your cunt doesn’t seem to think so.”

You moaned at the feeling, pushing yourself back against his hand.

“Too stubborn to admit anything,” Azriel murmured, “But your body gives you away.”

Azriel took a step back, your body cold at the loss of contact as he freed himself from the confine of his leather pants, each movement filled with a primal urgency that would’ve made him unsettled— embarrassed even— if he had been in a more rational state of mind. But Azriel wasn’t being rational. All he could think about was you, and staring at your beautiful glistening cunt, all he wanted was to fuck you into oblivion, to let his frustrations out. To tame you like a wild animal— his most tantalizing challenge yet.

He settled himself behind you and stroked his cock along your folds, allowing it to glide against your core until both of you were slick with your desire. He teased you slowly as he moved up and down your entrance. You pushed against him, urging him inside, inviting him to take you.

Azriel only laughed darkly at the movements, and you whined in response, frustrated and irritated.

“Remember this the next time you insult me,” he said, “Remember how you were begging for me to fuck you.”

Half a breath later, he pushed himself inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt. You exhaled in tandem, your cunt clenching him, pulsing around the stretch of him. He adjusted his angle and picked up the pace, sending pleasure rising in a wave that you couldn’t hold back, your mouth falling open as he began to take you harder.

You let your forehead fall against your hands, braced against the rough texture of the tree. You faintly felt the ridges under your palm, but there was no pain, no irritation that you knew you were bound to experience later. All you could truly feel was Azriel deep inside you, stretching you out and using you in a way you hadn’t experienced for a very long time. The lust Azriel felt, the experience of being with you, of claiming you as his, was no longer a desire, no longer a want. It was a need. An animalistic and primal need that he felt deep in his chest.

Azriel's movements were relentless, each thrust sending ripples of pleasure rippling through your body, clouding your mind in a haze of ecstasy and melting away all coherent thought. There were sounds emitted from your lips, this you knew, but they were incoherent whimpers, quiet murmurs whispered towards the ground as your forehead dug into your hands with every buck of Azriel’s hips.

“You had so much to say earlier, Y/n,” Azriel said, pulling out until he was barely inside you. He thrusted back in, resuming a hard and brutal pace.

“Why so quiet now?”

Thrust.

“Did you just need the attitude fucked out of you?”

Thrust.

"What will your brothers think?” he taunted, his grip on your hips bruising in its intensity, “Your father?”

Thrust.

“If only your family only knew what their precious princess was up to. Taking it from the likes of me, like some common pleasure hall whore."

The mention of your family sent a surge of burning shame coursing through your veins, you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, flushing against your exposed skin. But amidst the suffocating shame, there was something else, something primal and insatiable that stirred within you—a hunger born of defiance, of indulging in a forbidden ecstasy. It filled you with a sense of exhilaration that bordered on madness.

Quickly, that spark of defiance ignited within you, mingling with the fiery hunger coursing through your veins, an urge to bite back at him. You craned your head to look over your shoulder, catching his eyes as you let out a moan, taking your lips in between your teeth.

"Do common whores get you this riled up?" you purred. There was a feigned innocence in your tone that made Azriel twitch inside you. His gaze burned into yours. "Do they make you this hungry?”

A part of you wanted the confirmation, wanted the triumphant feeling of knowing you could ruin him for everyone else— that you felt better than the females he had bedded, that you, the one he loathed so openly, were the only one to truly quench his thirst.

“Do they feel as good as me, Azriel?”

He let out a deep, guttural moan. The sound traveled through your body, lighting your skin on fire as you bucked back into his movements, meeting every roll of his hips.

“Say that again,” Azriel groaned.

When you gave no reply, he twisted your hair around one fist and gave it a tug, pulling your body up to him as before. His thrusts never staggered, not even as his hand traveled to wrap around your throat, matching the reddening print from his earlier grip. The other hand remained steady at your hip, gripping into the fabric of your dress and the exposed skin of your body.

“Say my name,” he growled and your cunt tightened at the sound, at the way he gripped your throat harder. You grasped at his arm with your hands, holding on to his skin as he bucked into you.

“No.”

Azriel growled, pulling out of you almost completely before he pushed back in a heavy, angry stroke. Your body arched in pleasure, a small whimper leaving your mouth instinctively.

“Don’t be a brat.”

“Fuck you.”

“I am,” Azriel said, “And your cunt is swallowing me whole, princess. Like it's made for me, like its been begging to be fucked.”

He released his grip from your throat, letting you fall forward as he placed his hand on the small of your back, arching your body for him as he pounded into you from behind. You fell forward, hands planted on the tree before you, fingers clawing at the bark like an animal in heat. Azriel watched as his cock disappeared into your cunt with every thrust, watched how your ass bounced back on him with every movement, how your tits moved with every roll of his hips. He fought not to finish from the sight alone.

You struggled to find your voice through the haze of pleasure that clouded your mind, that seemed to twist and tie your tongue to where you could only gasp incoherent words of ecstasy

“Oh, fuck. Azriel.”

Azriel drank in your sounds of pleasure like a male thirsted for centuries, the sound of his name on your tongue sending a wave of pleasure through his body.

“Are you going to cum, Y/n?”

You let yourself surrender to his touch as he continued to ravage you with ruthless abandon, his voice caressing you in ways you never knew a sound could do. You wanted him to go faster, harder, rougher; wanted him to fuck you with all his might, with all that anger you saw. As if he could read your mind, Azriel’s thrusts sped up, slamming into you.

“Fuuck, yeah, you are. I can feel this pretty little cunt clenching me.”

He continued his pace, fucking you with long thorough strokes that left you completely pinned between him and the rough bark of the tree. You felt him heavy against your back, breasts pressed against his hand as he moved between gripping them both roughly, holding onto them for leverage as he fucked you from behind.

"Look at you," he taunted, his grip tightening around you possessively. "So desperate, so needy. You're nothing but a pretty little slut, begging for release, aren’t you?"

Azriel continued, moving deeper and faster, pumping into you with snaps of his hips that had you writhing underneath him.

"And yet," you managed between breaths, gasps leaving your lips as he drove into you. "You’re the one pounding into me like a brute who can't get enough.”

With a low groan, Azriel's hand tightened around your breast, his grip possessive as he leaned in to bite at your shoulder with a hungry intensity. He was beginning to think that you’d surely be the death of him, that he had created something, some beast inside him, that refused to be satiated by anything other than you— and that was dangerous. But he didn’t think too much about it, not now, not as he felt your cunt massaging him from the inside, felt your walls clamping onto him in a way that set his body on fire, his cock throbbing.

Azriel railed you over and over, nothing slow or gentle about his movements. And with every thrust, you whined in ecstasy. His grip on your hips tightened, holding you in place as he kept pounding into you. He fell forward, grinding against you, pushing you further into the rough bark of the tree.

You could feel it, a deep pressure building in your stomach as his cock stretched you in the most delicious way. And you could feel him too, hot against your back, his deep breaths and the groans that reverberated through his body. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in your ears, muffling out the sound of your moans as your whole body tensed.

Then you felt it, a cool trail snaking up your legs. Dark tendrils of Azriel's shadows slithered through your thighs, caressing your skin with a tantalizing touch that made you clench at the sensation. You gasped as they coiled around your clit, winding you up with a feeling you’d never experienced before. With a loud moan, your orgasm rolled through you in a violent convulsion, white spots dancing at the edges of your vision.

Azriel hated to think it, hated to admit that the sound of you coming undone on his cock was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever heard, that feeling your cunt clench around him as the sound filled his ear was enough for him to unravel. With a choked moan, Azriel spilled into you, spurts of his seed coating your walls. You let out a final, breathy whine at the sensation of him spilling into you, feeling as it began to drip as Azriel slowly pulled out.

With a heavy breath, his gaze lingered on the glistening trail connecting the tip of cock to your cunt. The lust in his eyes faintly faded, and a moment of clarity washed over him as the reality of what he’d just done hit like a sudden, cold wave. He didn’t regret it, no, not at all. This was exactly the release Azriel had needed. In fact, a part of him nearly grinned at the realization, at the relief he now felt in his body. But the other part of him, the rational side afraid of disappointing his family, of fucking something up, awoke in a panic. What the fuck had he just done? And why was he so proud of it?

You slowly stood up, straightening yourself out as you turned to face him, face flushed and hair a tangled mess. There was a ghost of a smirk playing on your lips as you took them between your teeth and bit down. Your breasts were still exposed, nipples peaked and reddened marks from his rough grip. Azriel's eyes traveled down your form, swallowing hard as he took in the sight before him. He could smell the desire that filled the air around you both, could smell himself on you— the image of him plunging in and out of you still fresh in his mind.

The idea of it alone made his cock stir again. There was something intoxicating about this situation to him. The image of you returning home, covered in his marks, in his scent, in his seed. Eris smelling him on you, realizing that you’d not only fucked someone he despised, but sullied yourself with an illyrian– just as he’d told Mor. And you, you’d remember this. You’d remember him inside you, remember how you let him use you, fuck you like a common-court whore. And you’d have to live with that. Every insult you’d give him, everytime you sneered at him in the future, there would be a part of you that remembered falling apart on his cock as you begged him for more, for him to fuck you harder.

With a gentle flick of your fingers, your dress was perfectly restored, the fabric falling gracefully around your figure as your hair cascaded down your shoulders in silky, untouched, waves. You smoothed out the sleeves of your dress with a practiced gesture before turning your gaze back to Azriel, scanning him from head to toe. Your eyes lingered on his still-exposed cock, covered in the mixed fluids of your cunt and his seed. A smirk played at the corner of your lips as Azriel looked down, realization flickering in his eyes as he hastily pulled up his pants, stuffing himself back into them.

"Well, this was fun," you remarked casually– almost bored. Azriel resisted the urge to frown at the words, at the tone you used. "Catch you later, Shadowsinger."

Before he could respond, you were gone, leaving him standing alone in the forest, staring at the empty space before a tree.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Part Two

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: @rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria

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minkyungseokie · 26 days

Text

Three’s A Crowd II | Pierre Gasly + Kika Gomes

synopsis; pierre and kika are still trying to get the oblivious and feeling denying y/n to realize just how in love they are with her, but y/n refuses to believe it

warnings; poly, gxg, throuple, homophobia, internalized homophobia, hateful family,

mentions of weaponizing religion, questioning someone’s faith, verbal and physical abuse, and disowning a minor

This is not meant to offend anyone. This is singing both me and a couple I know have experienced.

note; not requested

note2; bruh, I had so much trouble writing this and getting it out. I had so many ideas, but no way of excecuting any of it.

Sorry if this isn’t good enough. I tried to put this off until i could come up with something, but I didn’t want to leave ya hanging

Let's ignore the one in light mode. Also, I know people have lives, but the slug like rate F1 fics are being posted concerns me lol.

Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Pierre Masterlist

I do not give anyone permission to change, copy, or put my work on any other platform. It will only be on top, so if you see it, please report it. Or let me know.

Y/n sighed. She had woken up due to the sensation of needing to go to the bathroom and the room being way too hot, only to find Pierre and Kika wrapped around her as if she were a tree and they were sloths. Well, more like Kika was holding onto her as if she was a sloth and Y/n was a tree, with her arms wrapped around Y/n's neck loosely and her leg thrown over her hips. Pierre was also clinging onto her, but he somehow ended up on top of her, which was why she was in her current predicament.

She desperately needed to pee, but she didn't want to wake them up. She needed the time before they woke up to fully think about how she felt.

She wanted to confess to the couple every minute she spent with them. Her heart told her to confess and finally get the love she had been yearning for, but her head told her no. Her head told her that she was disgusting for liking two people at once, her head told her that she is a homewrecker for liking both of them and possibly breaking them up,, her head told her to protect her heart from rejection and keep the friendship rather than sacrifice it for her selfish feelings.

She had so much going on inside her head that she needed to leave the room right them or else she'd break down and she would rather not have to explain why she's having a random breakdown in the bed.

Y/n managed to get Pierre off of her and wrapped around Kika instead before jumping out of bed and hightailing it to the bathroom. She sat on the toilet and wrapped her arms around herself. She couldn't get into a relationship even if she was willing to ruin her friendship. Despite her saying that she was confident and secure in her sexuality, she really wasn't.

Being raised in a highly homophobic environment where she was taught to be a submissive house wife and her brother was raised in the mindset of a toxic "alpha" male. Y/n may have been kicked out because she didn't take in the teachings her parents tried to force into her mind, but she was still raised in a household where being different was disgusting for twenty years of her life.

It was a hard mindset to get rid of without the correct help and, to be quite honest, she never talked to anyone about it other than Pascale Leclerc, who wanted to put Y/n into therapy. If Y/n didn't basically have a panic attack when the therapist tried to pry too far, too fast, things probably would've been different.

Y/n tried to swallow the lump in her throat and keep the tears from exiting her tear ducts. Y/n began to sniffles and furiously wipe her eyes as the tears fell down her face.

Kika stretched as Pierre got out of the bed and put on a shirt, "Where's Y/n?" Kika asked, scratching her head. "Not sure. She was gone when I woke up. Maybe the bathroom since the door is closed." Pierre shrugged, leaning over to kiss the model. Kika stood up and walked up to the bathroom door, "Hey, Minha linda. Are you okay in there?" Kika spoke, knocking on the thick wooden door.

Y/n didn't answer.

"Minha linda?" Kika called out, pressing her ear to the door to see if she could hear any movement or the shower. Kika's heart lurched when she heard labored breathing rather than the sound of water running, "Y/n?! Are you okay? Can I come in, please?" Kika asked worriedly, putting a hand on the doorknob.

Pierre looked over at the sound of his girlfriend's panicked voice. The French man dropped what was in his hand and marched over to his girlfriend's side, "What's wrong, mon cœur?" Pierre questioned worriedly. "I think something's wrong with Y/n. She seems to be in distress." Kika answered, turning back to the door and trying the doorknob.

It was locked just as she thought.

"Y/n? Please let us in. We just want to make sure that you're okay." Pierre spoke up, knocking on the door gently, but there was no answer. Kika put her ear to the door to see if she could hear more, only to hear hyperventilating, "She's hyperventilating. We have to get in there." Kika said, "There's a key right here just in case." Pierre explained, reaching up to grab a key off the doorframe. Kika snatched the key and fumbled trying to put it in the keyhole, "Stop, stop, stop. Kika, look at me. I need you to take a deep breath and calm down. Panicking will not help our Y/n." Pierre soothed.

Kika nodded, taking a few deep breaths. In, out, in, out.

Now calmed, Kika inserted the key into the keyhole and unlocked the door. Pierre grabbed the doorknob and swung the door open, "Oh, shit. She's having a panic attack." Pierre cursed. "I'm going to touch you, is that alright?" Pierre asked, hands hovering over Y/n's body, waiting until he got permission before sitting on the floor and pulling Y/n into his lap with Kika sitting right next to them looking up what to do when one is having a panic attack, "Okay, first step is to remain calm and ask them if they need anything." Kika instructed.

"Do you need anything, mon cœur?" Pierre muttered, holding Y/n to his chest. Y/n shook her head, but her panic attack ensued, "Can you raise up a hand for me?" Kika asked, hovering a hand over Y/n's back. Y/n shakily held up a hand and kept it there until Kika told her to put it back down. Kika had the girl repeat the action until her breathing calmed only a bit.

Pierre took Y/n's head and gently put it on his chest, "Can you hear me breathing?" Pierre inquired, earning a nod from Y/n. "Good, now I need you to try a breathe with me. Just try to copy my breathing." Pierre suggested. Pierre took Y/n's hand, Kika took the other one, and placed it on his chest.

Pierre began to take deep breaths until Y/n began to try and copy, "I'm proud of you. Good job." Kika praised, stroking Y/n's curls, "That's it, my girl. Concentrate on your breathing. Stay in the present." Pierre said. "You can get through this." Kika encouraged, placing a kiss on Y/n's forehead.

The couple continued to praise and say words of affirmation until she stopped hyperventilating, but she was still breathing hard and shaking, "Hey, gorgeous. Can you look at me?" Kika asked, placing her hands on Y/n's thighs, gently stroking them as a form of comfort. Y/n turned and looked Kika in the eyes, "That's my girl. Can you name three objects you see for me, hm?" Kika queried.

Y/n's eyes darted around frantically, "Hey, don't stress yourself out. It's okay. You don't need to search. Just name me the first three things you see." Kika gently ordered.

Y/n nodded and took a shaky breath, "Bru-brush, um, r-ring, and...and, um, shoes." Y/n stuttered, looking around.

"Good girl." Pierre praised, stroking Y/n's arm comfortingly, "That's perfect. You're doing amazing. Now, can you name me the things you can hear?" Kika asked. "Yo-you, the wind, a-and Pierre's breathing." Y/n let out a sigh, "Great, not move three body parts." Kika said. Y/n wiggles her toes, then her fingers, and then her ankle. "That's it. You did perfect, chérie." Pierre praised, "You did so amazing. I'm so proud of you." Kika joined the praising.

Y/n took a couple of more breaths and stood up, "Thank you. For helping." Y/n thanked in a dull voice. "Do you want to tell us what caused your panic attack?" Pierre asked, "It's just...I..." Y/n hesitated, Kika reached over and put a hand on Y/n's thigh again, "It's okay. You don't have to tell us if you aren't ready." Kika spoke, "We're here if you want to though." Pierre added.

"I just started thinking about...someone I really like and I began thinking about my family. They weren't the...they didn't like... they were homophobic and when I thought about them. I thought I was confident in my preferences, but I realized just how much my parents teachings affected me." Y/n explained, "Internalized homophobia, I guess."

Pierre and Kika shared a look, "You're...your parents didn't accept the fact that you liked more than men?" Kika asked, "Yeah, they said that the Bible is against same sex love. Just like all the other Christians who hate the LGBTQ, they use the Bible to "prove" their views. I asked my mother, who caught me kissing my best friend, where in the Bible did it say that loving someone of the same sex and she slapped me." Y/n chuckled.

As Y/n talked, she slid down until her head was in Pierre's lap and her bottom was in Kika's. Kika played with Y/n's shirt while Pierre ran his hand through her hair the best he could but since it was curly, he had to settle for scratching her head. "And then what happened?" Kika asked, urging Y/n to continue, "She allowed me to stay for a bit longer, in the house, but there was constant verbal and physical abuse." Y/n swallowed.

"She thought that if they treated me the way others in the world would treat me, it'd convert me. They tried sending me to conversion therapy, but we got into a fight and I got kicked out. Luckily, the Leclerc's took me in and raised me to be the way I am now. I owe them my life. They're the only family I have now and they've tried to help me, but I refused therapy. I thought I had the right mindset, but now I realize that...I'm not as tough as i thought and the family's tracings did, in fact, get to me." Y/n sighed before realizing she was ranting about problems that they weren't apart of.

Y/n didn't realize just how comfortable she felt around them until she was spilling her past to them. “I just realized I’m trauma dumping to you. I’m sorry, you probably don’t want to hear this.” Y/n started to sit up, but Pierre pulled her back down while Kika gently pushed her down. “Mon cœur, if we didn’t want to hear, we wouldn’t have asked. We care about you. We…we love you and we want to hear things about you.” Pierre said, “The good or the bad. We want to know whatever it is you want to tell us.” Kika added.

Y/n looked into Pierre’s ocean blue eyes before locking eyes with Kika. The couple stared at Y/n expectantly, “What?” Y/n asked, eyes darting between the two. Pierre groaned and Kika sighed, Pierre thought she would get what they meant when he said it, but maybe saying it constantly as friends didn’t help.

They would have to find a way to confess that couldn’t be confused as a friendly gesture.

After getting dressed for the day, the three set off to walk around town. They were planning on showing Y/n around Italy by taking her to their favorite spots. Making sure her hands never left theirs or a hand was on her body at all times, they showed her all their favorite places before stopping at a cafe for lunch.

“Ah, this place is so cool,” Y/n said, swinging their connected hands back and forth, “Yeah? Do you think you can make it home? I know you’ve been thinking about moving to Italy or are you staying in Monaco?” Kika questioned. “Maybe. I mean, my family’s in Monaco, but you and Pierre are in Italy. So far, I think that I’m team Italy.” Y/n said absentmindedly.

Kika and Pierre shared an excited look. “Tonight. We tell her tonight.” Pierre mouthed to Kika, who agreed. They’d be confessing their love to Y/n tonight during dinner.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Y/n sat on the beach while Kika and Pierre played in the water. She smiled and took some pictures for Instagram and Twitter later, knowing that Pierre would want some for the photo dump he posted sometimes before the next GP. The girl scrolled through Instagram, just looking at whatever her friends posted and looking at reels until she noticed one with her name in it.

Twitter/X when Y/n, Pierre, and Kika look so cute together, but they can't see it.

With the caption reading, 'I don't understand how they can be so obvious and oblivious at the same time.'

Y/n scrambled onto Twitter to find that she indeed was trending alongside Kika and Pierre. Pressing onto the hashtag with her name on it, she read the posts to see what people were saying

Y/n lowered her phone and stared ahead with wide eyes. Had she actually been missing the signs that Pierre and Kika had been throwing her? They were normally super close. Always touching and being super close, so it was hard for her to tell they wanted to be more than friends.

Y/n looked up at the blue sky, trying to think of anything that could've been seen as a hint as that they wanted to be more than friends with Y/n. Nothing came to mind until she started cycling through the things that they usually do with her throughout the years.

The kissing.

Y/n had never had that type of interaction between any of them before this year. She didn’t know when it started, but she knew it just happened one day and she never questioned it. Her forehead, her temple, her nose, her cheeks, her hands, and the top of her head. Now that she thought about it, there were times where they were close to kissing her lips and she just someone hadn’t noticed.

“What’s got you so concentrated?” Pierre’s voice spoke from behind her as he sat down so that she was between his legs, “Yeah, what’s got your attention like that?” Kika questioned, sitting in between Y/n’s legs.

“Ah, it’s nothing. I was just…thinking about stuff.” Y/n waved off their concern, wrapping her arms around the slightly older model while leaning against Pierre. “Are you sure? You looked deep in thought when we came up. We even called you, but you didn’t answer.” Kika said, “Everything is fine. Again, I was just thinking about something. Do you think we can get some gelato?” Y/n asked, quickly changing the subject.

Kika sat up excitedly, “Ooo, gelato sounds perfect. It’s a good idea. Let’s go!” Kika grabbed Y/n’s hand and ran to the nearest gelato shop, “Wait, Ki. What about Pierre?” Y/n asked, looking at the man who was still sitting on the beach with a confused look on his face. “We’ll get him some too. I just wanted to spend some time alone with you, even if it’s just a couple of minutes.” Kika flirted, batting her pretty little lashes at Y/n.

Y/n practically melted in her flip flops.

Now that she has been made aware that the two openly flirt with her, she was going to try and see it. She could now see that Kika tended to use her large brown eyes to her advantage and it always worked on her unknowingly.

“You’re adorable.” Y/n muttered, pinching Kika’s cheeks causing the girl to groan and slap her hands away, “Stop! You’re acting like my grandmother.” Kika whined. The girls walked up to the counter and ordered their gelatos with Pierre getting bacio, Kika getting stracciatella, and Y/n getting lampone.

“Pierre, we’ve got you gelato!” Y/n sung, playfully swaying hips in a weird dance as the two girls approached the man. “What did you get me?” Pierre asked, grabbing the gelato from Y/n’s hands, “Bacio.” Kika answered, “Mmm, lampone is so good. Do you two want to try?” Y/n asked, holding out a spoonful of her gelato out for Pierre.

Pierre stared into her eyes as he took the spoon in his mouth and licked his lips once she took the spoon back, “Cheeky.” Y/n whispered, turning to feed Kika some of it as well.

Y/n decided that if they were really into her, she’d openly flirt with them and let them make the first move. She wasn’t going to take the word of people online and possibly break up their perfect friendship or the couple’s relationship. If anything were to happen, she’d have to let them to do it to make sure that she doesn’t cross any boundaries and make them uncomfortable. “That real is good. Do you want some of mine?” Pierre asked. The trio kept feeding each other spoonful of gelato and making jokes.

Y/n began to feel uncomfortable with how bright the sun was. She reached into her bag and pulled it sunscreen, “We need to put this on. Tans are amazing, but possible skin cancer is not.” Y/n waved the bottle around. Y/n opened the bottle only to have it snatched out of her hand, “Hey!” Y/n gasped, looking at Pierre, “I’ll help you put it on.” Pierre offered. “I’d this and excuse to touch my ass?” Y/n teased, looking at Pierre through narrowed lids, “Who knows?” Pierre shrugged, smiling at the curly-haired girl.

Y/n lifted her hair up so that Pierre could get her neck, “Kika, sit in front of me. I’ll get you covered if you need sunscreen.” Y/n offered, pulling out another bottle of sunscreen. “Yes, please.” Kika crawled in between Y/n’s legs, putting her hair into a bun so none of the sunscreen got into it.

Y/n sat up so that she was on her knees with her legs in an “L” shape. Y/n opened the sunscreen bottle and began applying it to Kika when she felt Pierre’s hands brushing sand off her ass and then sunscreen being applied to her butt and thighs, “I feel like you’re having too much fun touching my ass, Mr. Gasly.” Y/n hummed, “Maybe I am.” Pierre played along, “You hear this, Kiki? We might have to run away together and leave Pierre behind.” Y/n joked as the model laid on her stomach to give Y/n better access to her body.

Y/n sighed, looking through her Instagram feed with a bored expression on her face. Kika and Pierre had gone out to do lord knows what while she stayed in the villa. Y/n groaned, throwing her phone on the bed. Maybe they were were on a date together and that's why they were taking so long to come back.

Y/n got off the bed and grabbed a towel, going to take a shower while waiting for the couple to come back from doing whatever it was that they were doing. Stepping out of the shower and wrapping the towel around her body, Y/n walked out into the bedroom and grabbed her lotion, deodorant, and stuff for her hair. Just as she was about to remove the towel, the door to the bedroom opened up.

“Merde, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were getting dressed.” Pierre cursed, turning so he wasn’t looking at her body anymore, “Shit, you scared me. You’re lucky that i didn’t take off my towel.” Y/n scolded. “Sorry!” Pierre apologized, but he didn’t make the move to leave the room. “Pierre, what’s taking so long?” Kika asked, pushing past him to see Y/n in nothing but a towel.

Kika pulled an outfit out of a bag and tossed it on the bed, “Here put that on and come out when you’re done.” Kika ordered, pulling Pierre out of the doorway and shut the door behind her. Y/n moisturized her body and held up the outfit that was tossed to her. She recognized that this was an outfit that she had bought when she and Kika went shopping together before the trip.

(If you don’t like the outfit, feel free to imagine your own. Just needs to be black)

She didn’t realize she had packed it.

Y/n put on a pair of boots, put her hair in twin buns, and (put on makeup or not. Your choice) walked out of the room to see that Kika and Pierre are also dolled up. Kika in a black mini dress and heels, and Pierre wearing black pants with thin white lines that crossed to male squares and a black button down.

“You guys look good!” Y/n spoke up, grabbing their attention. Pierre and Kika’s eyes scanned her body like they were staring and analyzing a piece of art, “You look amazing, minha vida.” Kika complimented, “So do you! My gosh, your legs are gorgeous.” Y/n said. Kika’s cheeks turned pink, “Oh, thank you. Pierre, didn’t she look good?” Kika asked, turning to Pierre, who was still staring at Y/n, but with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Pierre? Please stop staring.” Y/n said, looking away nervously, “Pierre.” Kika hissed, nudging her boyfriend. Pierre snapped back to attention and gave Y/n and wrapped an arm around Kika’s waist, “You look nice, chérie.” Pierre said, holding out his arm for Y/n to take.

Y/n looked at his arm and reluctantly took it. Even if the people on Twitter were right, Y/n still felt like she was home wrecking their relationship, which is why she decided to let them take control and comes if they really did like her. Y/n cleared her throat, “So, uh, where are we going?” Y/n asked as Pierre led the two of them to his car, opening the door and pushing the seat forward so Y/n could get into the back. “Out.” Pierre amswered cheekily, “But out where?” Y/n questioned as she put on her seatbelt, “We’re just going out for dinner. It’s the last day of our break together before Suzuka.” Kika explained.

Y/n nodded and looked out the window of the car. The only people who were talking were Kika and Pierre, who were mumbling low so she couldn’t hear what they were saying. Y/n was getting annoyed. After rubbing sunscreen on each others bodies, she thought they’d be more open and flirtatious with her, but it seemed like they were just pulling away more.

Maybe the people online were wrong. Maybe they were just seeing things and upon seeing something that wasn’t actually there, they convinced Y/n that the couple had wanted her the way she wanted them. Y/n sighed and looked down at her hands, maybe she was just being…what do the fans call it? Delulu?

Maybe she was being delulu when it came to her relationship with Kika and Pierre. She had an entire panic attack over being in love with another woman and possibly breaking up a relationship and it turns out it might’ve been justified. The woman’s mood soured right then and there. She didn’t want to go out anymore, but remained quiet because it wasn’t their fault she deluded herself into thinking that they’d love her the way she loved them.

“Y/n? We’re here.” Kika spoke, poking her with her mini Kelly, “Oh? Yeah, I’m coming.” Y/n said, trying not to let the emotion she was feeling bored into her voice. Y/n exited the car, ignoring the hand Pierre was offering to her and walked in the restaurant ahead of the couple, “Does she seem upset to you?” Kika asked, “Yeah, I don’t know. Are you sure we should do this tonight?” Pierre inquired. “We should. It might improve her mood.” Kika said.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It was well into the night and meals were halfway eaten by the time the two were ready to confess. Y/n was just ready to go home because she was tired and didn’t want to continue third wheeling. At the same time, she had no right to be upset when she was the one who deluded herself into thinking they genuinely were interested. Kika wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin before putting it down, "Y/n, there's something we have to--"

"Excuse me."

A new voice interrupted Kika's sentence causing all eyes to turn to the person who interrupted the said woman. It was a gorgeous man with red and black dyed hair, "Hello, can I help you?" Y/n asked politely, "I apologize if this straightforward, but I just thought you were beautiful and wanted to ask if you wanted to come hang out with me." The guy said. Y/n wasn't really interested in him the way he was with her, but she was kind of upset and tired of being the third wheel on this outing, so she didn't see why she couldn't get to know someone new.

The man held out a hand for her to take if she was interested. Y/n looked at the hand and put her hand into his, "Do you guys mind if I go with him? You can make this a date or something." Y/n said, standing up. "It is a date so you can't leave!" Kika blurted, "What do you mean by that, Kika?" Y/n asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"Y/n, we just wanted to spend time with you before we all had to go back to our respective jobs. We don't want you blowing us off for some random ass-- person you just met." Pierre spoke, "Then it should be alright if he sits with us, right? And what were you going to say before you changed the word to person? " Y/n questioned. She wasn't trying to be difficult or break up the time they were spending together, but instead trying to take her mind off of the couple and maybe fall in love with someone available.

"Nothing. He was going to say nothing. Y/n, please sit down and let him go. We are just trying to have a nice evening with you." Kika said, "Kika, I understand that and I'm sorry for trying to invite some random dude out of the blue, but I was tired of being the third-wheel. I want to have someone to talk to while you're being all lovey dovey with each other." Y/n sighed, turning to the guy. "I'm sorry, but can we rain check?" Y/n asked

The man pulled a pen out of his pocket and grabbed a paper napkin nearby, bending down and using the table to write something on the napkin, "Don't worry about it. Finish hanging out with your friends and call me whenever. The name's Milo by the way." The guy said, gently placing the paper into her hands.

"It was lovely meeting you." Y/n said, waving as he left. Once Milo was gone, Y/n turned to the couple with a scowl before taking a deep breathe and sitting down. "Listen, Y/n. We didn't mean to ruin your chances at possibly meeting someone you could have a future connection with, but--" "It's fine. It's whatever. I was... never mind. I'm sorry. I'm just not feeling it tonight." Y/n sighed again.

"And that's fine. We are sorry as well. Right, Pierre?" Kika asked, turning to her boyfriend, "No." Pierre answered causing both girl's heads to shoot up, "What?" Kika gasped, "What do you mean by "no"?" Y/n asked. "I meant no. Listen, I'm sorry you feel like the third wheel and I'm sorry you felt like we weren't giving you enough attention..."

"Pierre, what are you..." Kika started

"We actually invited you to this trip because we had something we've been meaning ot tell you..." Pierre continued

"Pierre..." Kika warned.

"We both love you and before you say that you love us too, we love you. As in, we want you to be our girlfrien--" "Pierre!" Kika hissed, hoping to cut him off before Y/n could fully hear him, but it seemed like it was too late. Y/n sighed, "I know that this is a--''

"Finally. I thought I was being delusional." Y/n gave a sigh of relief. The couple shared a confused look before looking to Y/n, "What do you mean by that?" Pierre questioned, "You think I'd let you touch my ass if I didn't like you? I was oblivious for the first part, but something enlightened me and I saw that it was pretty obvious." Y/n shrugged.

"We were trying to make it obvious, but we didn't expect you to actually get the hints." Kika muttered, "I'm oblivious, not stupid." Y/n joked. "So that finally means I can do this." Pierre surged forward and kissed Y/n deeply, "Pierre, we're still the restaurant." Kika said, pulling him back until he let go of Y/n.

"Wow, I didn't expect that." Y/n said, "You guys go wait by the car while I pay." Pierre suggested. Kika grabbed Y/n's hand and lead her outside while Pierre called the waiter so he could pay the bill.

Pierre also ordered a bottle of wine to go before exiting the resturant to see his girlfriend cuddled up to Y/n. Both girls had dopey smiles on their faces and Y/n had Kika's lipstick smeared on her lips, which gave Pierre an idea of what went on while he was paying. "This means you'll take us as your lovers, no?" Pierre asked, "Yeah, of course." Y/n nodded.

Kika cheered, throwing her arms around the two taller people, bringing them into a group hug. "Ah! Amo-vos muito." Kika muttered, burying her head in Pierre's neck, "Je vous aime tous les deux beaucoup." Pierre spoke before Y/n said it in her own native language.

The trio then went home as a newly formed throuple.

I'm sorry I rushed the ending and at one point I had no idea where this was going. I might take this down and rewrite it, but for now, here's you part two

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mintmatcha · 3 months

Text

tw: implied abuse, no curses au

"Can I ask a question?" Yuuji digs his heel into the wood chips as he swings, digging a growing trench behind him. "You don't have to answer."

Ash falls from the end of Choso's cigarette. He leans against the anchor of the swing set, cheek against cold metal, and sighs. Twilight has passed and the streetlights have turned on, giving the playground a hazy, barely lit glow. Yuuji's guardian will start calling soon, but Choso decides the extra time together is worth the future ire.

"I already told you that I'm not giving you a tattoo."

"Aw, damn-" Yuuji clicks his tongue against his teeth. Ever since they met, he's been dying for a tattoo of his own, throwing out wild new ideas almost every day. One day, when he's eighteen and likes an idea for more than a month, Choso will bring him to his studio and comply.

But, not yet.

"That wasn't my question though," Yuuji says.

"Then go for it."

The younger boy takes a deep breath, then lets it out even slower, pulling the tension longer and longer until it snaps.

"Why weren't you... around? Like, when I was a kid and stuff."

Choso takes his own breath.

"Your mom-- our mom." The taste of that sits bitter on his tongue. He never called her mom, even back then. "She was different for me."

And for our other brothers, he adds silently. Yuuji doesn't need to carry that weight yet, the knowledge that he was the exception to it all.

"Why?" Yuuji pumps his legs a little softer, the back and forth motion of the swing slowly dying out.

"I dunno." Choso wishes he had the answer to that. "She was sixteen, did bad things. Don't worry about it."

Finding out about Yuuji wasn't a shock, somehow. Years after Ken had surrendered her children to the state, Choso had received noticed that she had died. The news felt overdue. No tears were shed, no love lost; the group chat of siblings had all agreed not to go to any service, but the day of, Choso had changed his mind.

He had put on his nicest outfit -some thrift store pants that didn't fit and a shirt he stole from foster dad three- and went expecting to be the only one there, the only one willing to say goodbye.

Choso hadn't known about her new family. They hadn't known about him either. It was typical of Ken to leave a mess in her wake.

Turns out, through a series of lucky breaks, the woman had clawed her way out of poverty and into the arms of a rich, but nice man. Her life was easy and sweet, filled with luxuries and love, including a son ten years younger than her eldest.

No one knows why Yuuji was different than the others, why she decided to be good to him and no one else. Mental illness is strange like that, picking and choosing how it pleases.

Yuuji huffs, gripping the metal chains tighter. "But-"

"Yuuji." Choso drops his cigarette and crushes it under his boot. Then, he thinks about the child that will play there tomorrow, shoveling wood chips into their mouths like idiots, and decides to pick it up. He jams it into his pocket. "You have good memories of her. Don't ruin that."

He used to resent how much Yuuji loved her. He was eight when she died, the same age Choso was when he first had to dial 911 for her. That anger had long faded, replaced with a strange amount of pity.

"But I want to know. What she did and stuff." Yuuji's voice jumps high with emotion. "I'm basically an adult, I can handle it."

"You're sixteen."

"Well, mom was doing this stuff at sixteen, so-" Yuuji is seething suddenly, brow furrowed and teeth grit.

"So?"

"So, she was old enough to be doing bad things and I'm not old enough to know about it?" He stands and the swing clatters behind him. He's stocky, yet tall, bunched with muscles that he's built from baseball. On one side of his cheek, there's a bit of chocolate stuck there, a remnant from the ice cream Choso bought him. Below it, there's a rosy hickey on his neck, a remnant of the boyfriend he hasn't told Nanami about yet. He thinks they're having sex, maybe, but doesn't know how to broach the topic without scaring his brother into never talking about it again.

"And you had tattoos at my age, by the way!"

Choso lets him stew in it, huffing and puffing. The blown out edges of first tattoo peek from under his sleeve, the image barely legible now. An older woman gave it to him at fifteen, in the basement of her house. It became so insanely infected that he ended up in the ER a couple days later.

"I'm not a kid. I can handle it." Yuuji states, calm and clear. "I'm not a kid."

A car passes, it's headlights stretching and pulling the shadows across the park. In the changes, Choso can see his mother in his brother, those soft eyes and thin lips and the same slightly crooked nose that Choso has himself. He thinks, maybe, if time was kinder and his father was better, they'd look more alike each other, but then the moment is gone and they no longer even look like siblings.

"Okay."

Yuuji untenses a bit. "Okay?"

"Okay."

"Like, okay, this conversation is done, or okay, I'll tell you?"

"I'll tell you," Choso says, jamming his hands in his pocket. The cigarette butt is there, mushed and still warm against his knuckles. "But not tonight."

"What?!"

"Next time, I promise."

Choso doesn't understand why Yuuji insists on rushing away from innocence, but he knows that he can't stop him. Yuuji will find out about the abuse, the neglect, the other brothers, and the other horrors in some way or another and then things will never be the same.

"Stay a kid just a little longer." Choso resists the urge to ruffle his hair. "For me?"

"Yeah, sure," Yuuji sighs. "One more day."

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lethalchiralium · 1 year

Note

If ur taking requests can we get something like Ghost still doesnt trust fxreader at all even when they are together for like 1/2 years and she gets all sad and starts distancing herself tyxxxx

No More | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

a/n: guys. guys i mean it keep the requests coming i love them. also : captain reader? because girlboss??? it’s kinda shitty but i love messy. gives me better control of future chapters :)

CALLSIGN: Mercy

warnings: angst, cussing, realizations and sort of heartbreak.

summary: You’ve been with Ghost for a year and a half - you allowed him into things you kept safe guarded, and realized that he has never done the same for you.

REMINDER: This is a side-blog, not my main! If you have any questions, feel free to message this blog or reblog! Reblogs are always appreciated - as well as any comments, they keep me motivated to write stuff like this!

SERIES MASTERLIST

You thought he would grow out of it. He’s an adult; given, he’s a very fucked up soldier, but an adult that has done adult things. He’s a few years shy of being in his thirties, and he doesn’t even understand the basics of having a girlfriend. He doesn’t understand a lot of things, and even though you’ve explained to him more times than you can remember, he still didn’t understand you after a year and a half of being together. Sure, you are on the same squad, you leave separately on break but always end up in the same apartment. The apartment that had framed pictures of you, your family, your dog - yet it always feels like he doesn’t give you anything.

It’s been a year and a half and the only personal thing you got out of him was a story about his brother when they were younger. You had told him countless stories of you and your childhood best friend, your single dad who fostered and adopted you. You even told him about your childhood dog who got hit by a car when he was young and still lived to be 15, about the very short memories you had of your godfather before he passed. You had told him everything, you had put your full trust into him and he hadn’t even given thought into putting an ounce of trust into you.

You couldn’t help it when you started to close yourself off - a trauma response from those years in the orphanage, then the system. You took less and less patients, eventually getting confronted by your Lieutenant, “What is going on with you, Captain?” You had given them a half-assed answer, “Got a lot of papers to go through from Price. It won’t be a long time.” And you kept yourself locked in your office, looking over case files and possible missions you could go on to escape this. Escape the feeling that has been gnawing at your soul since the last time you left your apartment with him three months ago. The feeling of distrust, of emotional abandonment.

You didn’t stop your tears when they came every night after Ghost had visited, but you never cried in front of him. You figured that would give him more ammunition to keep you at arm’s length.

Your hand ran across the hefty manila folder, the other held onto your vest collar. You opened the folder.

It was a stupid decision, you knew that. He would never let you get out of his sight, let you be anywhere without his knowledge and approval. But you needed something different - you needed somewhere where you felt like you could breathe, with people you trust and have put trust into you.

Your dog, Cerberus, whined from your cot across the room. You’d been sleeping more in your office than your own room, you figured it was because you were mentally preparing to be out on the friend with your old squad, and definitely not because you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as Ghost. He never let you move away from him in missions, never let you out of his sight when on them - it was suffocating, feeling like you were inadequate in a field you spent most of your life in because of the man you loved with everything you had. You gave him your all, your everything - he definitely made you feel that it would never be enough, without him even speaking a word.

Your eyes read over the mission again. Reconnaissance on a couple of enemy bases, a patrol of safe houses in the area to make sure they were still secure. That and to infiltrate a top secret base deep in the mountains to retrieve information on a possible illegal uranium enrichment plant being constructed. Your eyes darted back across the room to Cerberus, you whistled lowly. The German Shepherd leapt off your cot, scrambling to sit in between you and your desk, he plopped his heavy head on your lap. You smiled at him, scratching behind his ears. “Good boy, Cerby.”

Your team consisted of your good friends, Logan and Hesh Walker, as well as Keegan Russ. You remembered how threatened Ghost was with how close of friends you were with them, you had chose to follow him to 141 instead of stay in the comfort of the Ghost Crew. A choice you had regretted earlier, but not now. You felt a lot better equipped with such an intense task force, you have more medics than before and an actual base to stay in - that and Price seemed a lot more relaxed now that Hassan and Shepherd were no longer a problem.

Cerberus’s ears perked up and he darted out from under your desk as you heard thunderous footsteps coming towards your office.

“Lay down.” You ordered your dog, he looked back at you before he skittered back onto your bed. You stood, your seat wheeled backwards half a foot. It was only five more seconds before your office door slammed against the wall, Ghost stormed in and shoved it back into the frame with his foot. He held up a folder just likes yours before he growled loudly, “What the fuck is this?”

You closed your own folder, moving your hand from your vest collar and splaying your fingers on the cardstock. Your eyes stayed down on the folder stamped, “Classified.”

“You’re going on a mission with the Ghosts?”

Your eyes looked over some stamped patient files, taking them in your hand and opening a few to se did you had signed them.

“Price told me five minutes ago. You’ve known for how long?”

You closed the files and whistled lowly again, the clicking of claws against the concrete was heard as the massive search and rescue dog curled around the back of your legs. You didn’t even have to look to know that he had his hackles raised - when you were on guard, so was he.

Ghost marched forwards and slammed his folder down on your desk, his fist clenched as he growled, “Answer me.”

“A month.” You muttered, eyes staring at the folders in your hands before turning away. You’ve cried over him the night previous and the seven before that, must you face him?

“And you weren’t going to tell me?” His voice was gruff, appalled. “That’s reckless. And you told Price not to tell me? Really?”

“It was need to know.” You answered, placing the files back on your desk before you stepped around your dog to the head of your cot where your duffle sat open. He followed, keeping a distance of six feet from you because of Cerberus curling around your legs and staring at him. Your hands grew shaky as you began to double check everything in your bag.

“I tell you whenever I leave for any mission, any fuckin’ errand, and you don’t dare tell me about one of the most important ops we’ve had in months? Why are you going?”

“They need a medic, they requested me.”

He scoffed. “We need our medic.”

You slowed down, hand brushing over your beige t-shirts as you spoke, “You have my lieutenant, Gomez.”

“I want you here.” His voice softened a little, you shoved the clothes down farther in the bag, pulling out your spare medkit and opening it, eyes darting over its contents. “I only trust you to patch me up.”

You slammed your spare med-pack closed and back into your duffle. You quickly zipped it, sharply saying, “That’s funny, ‘cause you seem not to trust me any other time.” You turned to look at him, eyes brimmed with tears.

His eyes widened. “What?”

“You don’t trust me, Simon. You never let me take my lead when we’re on missions, let me be near you, let me talk with other people.” Your arms crossed over your chest, tears slicing hot on your skin. “You don’t trust me. do you even want to be in this relationship?” Your hand went up and quickly wiped away your tears. “Because it certainly feels like you don’t.”

He stood there, stunned - his hands at his side, he had no idea what to do with them. “Of course I do.” He took a step forward, cautiously placing his right hand out. “Of course I trust you.”

You backed away then, your calves bumped into Cerberus, your hand reached down to touch his head - an attempt to calm yourself. “Then why can’t you put a little faith in me? A little faith that you are the one I go to sleep thinking about? That you are the one I worry about when I’m out on the field, instead of my own safety? That I wouldn’t ever do this to you?” Tears fall rapidly, your heart beat roughly in your chest - anxiety was gripping your diaphragm. “I trust you with my life, Simon. I have since we got together. It’s been almost a year and a half and you still don’t even trust me to have your back.”

He just stands there, arms at his side - his eyes stared at you, dark and full of pain. “I do. I do trust you, Y/N.”

You threw your duffle on your back and walked towards him - shoving a finger into his chest, looking up at him. “You have this whole mission to think about this, about us. Because I can’t be trusting you blindly when you don’t even trust me to breathe.”

You moved around him, whistling for Cerberus. The dog swiftly followed you out of the office, and you slammed the door behind you. You swiftly walked down the corridor, and as soon as you turned the corner, your back hit the wall. Your hand flew up to your mouth, pressing into it to muffle the loud sobs that fell from your throat. Cerberus pawed at your leg before pressing his head to it.

____________________

part 2 here!

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x fem!reader #simon ghost riley cod #simon ghost riley call of duty #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley cod #simon riley #simon riley call of duty #simon riley mw2 #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley request #lethal chiralium #lethalchiralium

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 1 month

Text

1968 [Chapter 1: Ares, God Of War]

Series Summary: Aemond is embroiled in a fierce battle to secure the Democratic Party nomination and defeat his archnemesis, Richard Nixon, in the presidential election. You are his wife of two years and wholeheartedly indoctrinated into the Targaryen political dynasty. But you have an archnemesis of your own: Aemond’s chronically delinquent brother Aegon.

Series Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, character deaths, New Jersey, age-gap relationships, drinking, smoking, drugs, pregnancy and childbirth, kids with weird Greek names, historical topics including war and discrimination, math.

Word Count: 5.7k

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! 🥰💜

💜 All of my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let’s begin with a definition.

Disaster is a noun derived from Ancient Greek: dus, a prefix meaning “bad,” and aster, or “star.” In the time when humans worshipped Zeus and Hera, Hephaestus and Aphrodite, it was believed that tragedies resulted from the inauspicious positioning of celestial bodies: a volcano erupts because of Jupiter, a returning comet brings with it a flood. There is a certain helplessness inherent in this mythology. There is predestined suffering that lies in wait until all the jewels of the sky have malignantly aligned.

Have you ever met someone who made you ache to change the stars?

~~~~~~~~~~

Gunshots explode through the lobby of the Breakers Hotel in Palm Beach, Florida; you feel the wind of the bullets as they clip by, fragmented metallic rage. Aemond is on the marble floor, blood pouring down his face, blood all over the white shirt beneath his navy blue suit jacket when you rip it open, tearing a button loose. He’s reaching for you through the jostling and the screams, leaving crimson handprints on your mint green dress. And you think: He just won the Florida primary. He’s not supposed to die. He’s supposed to be the president.

“What happened?” Aemond murmurs, his right eye dazed and only half-open; the left has vanished beneath a cloudburst of gore. Perhaps ten yards away, people have caught the assailant and pinned him against one of the vast Venetian windows until the police arrive. They’re roaring at him in red-faced fury, their closed fists strike his ribs and his cheekbones, their knuckles paint him scarlet and indigo.

“You’re alright, you’re alright.” You brace both palms over the maroon stain spreading rapidly across Aemond’s chest and press down as hard as you can. Your fingers are drenched in seconds, warm fading life. He’s bleeding to death. You shriek through the turmoil: “Criston?!”

“Is he okay?” Aemond asks faintly. He means the baby; you’re six months pregnant with his first child, his greatest treasure, his Atlantis, his Holy Grail. Aemond has already decided that it’s a boy. Sometimes you fear what will happen if he’s wrong.

“Yes, honey, the baby’s fine, don’t worry. Criston!”

Aegon is here instead, sweating out rum and ruin like he always is, hair too long, veins full of pills, colliding with you and pawing at his dying brother with untrustworthy hands. “Aemond?!”

You shove Aegon away, splattering him with blood. “Get back, he needs air!”

“Where’s he shot?! Let me see—”

“I told you to get back!”

“Goddammit, you don’t own him! He’s mine too!”

Criston has fought his way through the maelstrom and is dragging Aegon away by the collar of his frayed olive green army jacket, stolen from Daeron when he visited home after basic training, a uniform of embittered revolution worn by a man who’s never fought for anything. “Aegon, make sure someone’s called for an ambulance, then meet the paramedics at the door and help them find us.”

“But—”

“Go!” Criston roars, and Aegon scrambles to his feet and is lost within the crowd. You can hear Otto bellowing at journalists and hotel employees to make space for the fallen senator; there are flashes of cameras and prayers shouted aloud. Above your head are crystal chandeliers and a vaulted ceiling hand-painted by 75 Italian artists in the 1920s; swimming in your skull are visions of Jackie Kennedy in the pink suit filthy with her husband’s brains. It’s just before midnight on Tuesday, May 28th. Upstairs in their oceanfront Imperial Suites, nannies will be shaking awake the absent adults of the Targaryen dynasty, who retired with the children before Aemond made his victory speech in the hotel ballroom: Alicent, Helaena, Fosco, Mimi.

Criston’s hands—larger, stronger—replace yours over the gushing wound in Aemond’s chest. What did the bullet hit? His lung, his heart? He’s not speaking anymore, his right eye is closed. His bloodied hands rest open and empty on the floor. “Criston, he’s dying,” you sob.

“No he’s not. We’re not going to let him.”

“What’s the closest hospital?”

“Good Samaritan is just across the bridge on the mainland.” It’s Criston’s job to know these things, though he had been thinking of you when he plotted his meticulous notes in his day planner: in case you eat a bad cheeseburger, or trip on the stairs, or catch the flu and start burning up with fever. Aemond worries about the baby. Aegon has five children, Helaena has three, and Aemond will feel that he has been robbed of something if he does not swiftly procure a family of his own. He needs you on the campaign trail, but still, he worries.

Across the lobby, the police have arrived to arrest the aspiring assassin. He puts up a fight when they try to handcuff him and earns a nightstick to the gut, an elbow to the nose. He is choking on his own blood. Perhaps he is drowning in it. Good, you think.

“Don’t kill him!” Otto booms at the officers. “I want him alive for trial! I want him to ride the lighting up in Raiford, you keep that son of a bitch alive!”

“Aemond?” You thread your fingers through his soaked hair. What happened to his left eye? Is it somewhere underneath all that carnage, or is it gone? “Please wake up. Please stay with me. We need you. The baby and I need you.”

“He’s going to live,” Criston promises, both hands still clamped over the bullet wound to slow the hemorrhaging.

“Aemond, please…” How can he be the president with only one eye?

An old woman in a yellow striped skirt suit is lumbering close with a homemade prayer rope clenched in her fist. “A komboskini for the senator!” For his last rites. For his soul.

“He doesn’t need it!” Criston says. “He’s not dying! No one is dying tonight!”

Still, you take the komboskini from the lady, each of the 100 knots a prayer unspoken. She is a devotee of Aemond, and you must show her gratitude. “Efcharistó, aderfí. O Theós na se evlogeí.” They are some of the few Greek words you’ve mastered; you’ve used them often since Aemond announced that he was running for president. Thank you, sister. God bless you.

The paramedics arrive, splitting the crowd like a laceration, white uniforms and a stretcher to ferry Aemond away. People are wailing, cursing, swearing vengeance. Aegon has returned and is peering down at Aemond with those large, glassy, muddled eyes, afraid to ask. “Is he…is he still…?”

“He has a pulse,” Criston replies. He helps the paramedics drag Aemond onto the stretcher and strap him to it. Your husband’s shirt is now drenched in red like garnet, like cinnabar, like the poppies that commemorate the boys butchered in World War I, like the wasted blood being spilled in Vietnam, men reduced to memory. “Good Samaritan?” Criston confirms with the paramedics.

“Yes sir,” the most senior one agrees. And then to you, with great deference, with compassion that transcends what somebody can harbor for strangers: “Ma’am, there’s a place for you if you want it.”

“I do,” you say, tear-streaked face, hands bathed in blood. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

The ambulance is idling outside the main entranceway of the hotel. Criston grasps your hand to steady you as you step up into the back, and you take a seat on the red leather bench beside the stretcher. The paramedics are placing IVs, holding an oxygen mask to Aemond’s face, muttering urgently into their radio, abbreviations and code words you can’t understand, a secret language of organic calamities. High above the stars are crystalline and radiant in a clear sky. In your own chest—unshredded by metal, unpierced by rage—your intact heart is pounding.

The lead paramedic turns to you again and says: “We can fit one more person.”

It’s your decision. You are the senator’s wife; you were supposed to be the next first lady of the United States. You look through the ambulance’s open doors. Aegon stares back expectantly, his hair falling in his face, his arms thrown wide, petulant, combative, useless, drunk. “Criston.”

“Bitch!” Aegon hisses at you as Criston climbs into the vehicle. The doors slam shut, the engine rumbles, the siren squeals as the ambulance races westbound on Breakers Row towards County Road, which connects with Flagler Memorial Bridge and the mainland.

Through the rear window you watch Aegon as he stands in the white-gold hotel luminescence, becoming smaller and smaller until he vanishes, and all you can see are streetlights, and all you can smell is blood.

~~~~~~~~~~

Every story needs its cast of characters. Here are the major players in the summer of 1968.

President Lyndon Baines Johnson is in the White House watching the clocks tick towards November 5th, when his successor will be ordained. He has chosen not to seek reelection. Since his ascension upon Kennedy’s assassination in 1963, Johnson’s domestic focus has been unprecedented civil rights legislation and his War On Poverty, yet what has infected the media like blood poisoning is the war in Vietnam. On the television are napalm bombs incinerating Vietnamese peasants, caskets draped with American flags, riots being beaten down by police, college students torching draft cards and chanting “Hey, hey, LBJ, how many kids did you kill today?” Now the president is sick in body, in spirit, in heart, and this is not a metaphor: he suffered a near-fatal cardiac arrest in 1955 and another shortly after John F. Kennedy was murdered in Dallas, Texas. He will die almost exactly four years after leaving office. Had he sought another term, he would have been unlikely to survive it. The public eye is something like a snake bite; it sinks its fangs in and you hope the venom burns clean before it can curse you with clots or hemorrhages or paralysis, before it can drown you in the dark waters of infamy.

In the void left by President Johnson’s surrender, four factions have emerged within the Democratic Party. The old guard—the same labor unions, congressmen, and local political machines who have steered the platform since the days of Franklin D. Roosvelt’s New Deal—has flocked to current Vice President Hubert Humphrey. Humphrey is competent yet uninspiring, a mid-fifties Midwesterner who flinches at the unpolished fury of antiwar protests and sedately lectures Black Power activists on the dangers of “reverse racism.” He is not a threat. He is a sheep in sheep’s clothing, and this is the time for wolves.

Senator Eugene McCarthy of Minnesota is unapologetically opposed to the Vietnam War, a moral crusader, a reluctant warrior, a man who wears his lack of taste for the presidency like a badge of honor. He feels compelled to run, but he does not crave it. He thinks this makes him a saint; but Joan of Arc was burned at the stake and Saint Lawrence was roasted alive. Like Halloween candy plunked into a child’s neon orange plastic pumpkin, McCarthy has collected his own coalition, college students and posh urbanites who believe themselves to be the future of the Democratic Party. In 2016, people will conjure McCarthy’s ghost when drawing comparisons to a controversial left-wing senator from Vermont named Bernie Sanders.

If McCarthy is the future and Humphrey is the past, then former governor of Alabama George Wallace is downright archaic. He is the candidate of choice for Southern white supremacists, averse to Republicans since Lincoln and still reverent of Depression-era New Deal programs that kept them from starving to death. Wallace is best known for his promise of “segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever,” and pledges to end the chaos that has besieged America through strict law and order. Provided he loses the Democratic primary, Wallace plans to run in the general election as an Independent, hoping to peel away enough support from the major party candidates to force the House of Representatives to declare the winner and then leverage his votes to negotiate an end to federal desegregation efforts in the South. His devoted wife Lurleen just died of uterine cancer, a diagnosis which Wallace kept hidden from her for years; doctors are in the habit of informing husbands of their wives’ ailments and giving them carte blanche control over the treatment plan, which unfortunately in Lurleen’s case was nothing. She was 41 years old.

In his short-lived castle of red corridors like the marrow rivers of bones, President Johnson hides from the hippies who jeer and spit; Humphrey frowns at them, McCarthy tries to appease them, Wallace says the only four-letter words they don’t know are “w-o-r-k” and “s-o-a-p.” But Aemond climbs down from podiums to meet them like old friends. He is young, only 36. He has a brother serving in the swamps of Vietnam. He is focused, determined, insatiable; he devours every scrap of news that is printed about him and writes his speeches by hand. As the self-admitted runt of the Targaryen family, Aemond knows what it is like to be underestimated. He wants a better America, and he wants to be the president, and he wants these things in equal, relentless measure, each fueling the other until these ambitions become inseparable. He has grown up hearing slurs against Greeks and consequently has no tolerance for discrimination, which he contends is antithetical to the American Dream. He attends civil rights marches in labyrinthian cities, antiwar protests on college campuses, union meetings in coal mining towns of West Virginia and Kentucky and Wyoming, music festivals crowded with long unwashed hair and braless women, fundraisers flush with the deep pockets of the Northeastern elite. Aemond’s coalition grows each day, bleeding away strength from his rivals like a Medieval surgeon. Their flesh turns cold and anemic, while Aemond’s heart pumps scalding torrents of blood.

If Aemond wins the Democratic primary at the convention in August, his opponent will almost certainly be the Republican frontrunner Richard Nixon of California. Nixon wants the White House just as badly, and he’s much smarter than he looks. He was Eisenhower’s vice president for eight years in the 1950s and lost to the ill-fated John F. Kennedy in 1960 by a whisker; some say he did not lose at all, but instead was cheated out of 100,000 votes by Kennedy’s mafia connections in Chicago. But with the Democrats divided and their incumbent president floundering, Nixon’s timing has never been better. He was once a poor boy with two dead brothers who earned a scholarship to Duke Law. Now he will become whoever he needs to be to win the presidency of the United States.

1968 is the year of wolves. The fangs are sharp, and the bellies ache with hunger.

~~~~~~~~~~

A local deli has opened early and sent sandwiches to Good Samaritan Medical Center for the family and friends of the senator from New Jersey: ham and Swiss, cucumber and cream cheese, tuna salad, egg salad, pimento cheese, BLTs, Cubans. The lobby is filling up with bouquets of flowers and handwritten notes. You pace and count the knots of the komboskini over and over again as you wait; Aemond has been in surgery for hours. The nurses periodically bring you Styrofoam cups of hot chocolate, scalding watered-down sweetness to distract you from the fact that some surgeon is currently rooting around inside your husband’s ribcage.

Alicent—a convert to the Greek Orthodox faith just as you are, though far more zealous, far more sincere if you dared to admit it—is pleading for God to save her son as she clasps her own prayer rope. Helaena is seated beside her, eerily calm. Helaena’s husband Fosco is wandering around boredly and inflicting small talk upon the nurses, ogling out the third-story windows, playing with his red Duncan yo-yo. Otto is making a series of calls using one of the phones at the nurses’ station. Criston is there too, leaning over the countertop and speaking with Otto in low conspiratorial whispers.

Aegon is sitting alone and glaring at you. He takes a rattling bottle of pills—prescriptions that doctors are too afraid not to write for him when he asks—out of a pocket on the front of his green army jacket, spotted like a leopard with your bloody handprints. He opens the amber-colored, cylindrical container and pours two, no, three tiny white tablets into his palm. He tosses them into his mouth and washes them down with a swallow of his own mediocre hot chocolate, still glaring. You ignore him.

“How could this have happened?” Mimi says again from where she’s slumped in her chair. Aegon’s wife has a Snow White sort of beauty, but with a perpetual ruddiness in her nose and cheeks from the gin she sips constantly. You suppose it would make anyone a drunk, being married to a man like that. Her maiden name was Marina Marceline Leroux, but everyone has always called her Mimi, even the press on the rare occasions when she makes an appearance. Her children—Orion, Spiro, Violeta, Thaddeus, and little Cosmo, only five years old—are all back at the Breakers Hotel with the nannies, the same as Helaena’s. Mimi blubbers to nobody in particular: “How…? Who…? Who would want to hurt Aemond…?”

Someone needs to sober her up. You fetch a BLT off the platter of sandwiches and offer it to her. “Here. Eat.”

“I’m not hungry. Who on earth could be hungry at a time like this? I’m absolutely nauseated, I’ll never want food again—”

“Mimi, eat the sandwich.”

“Fine, fine,” she slurs morosely, then takes an unenthusiastic bite. She listens to you, all the women do. They listen to you, and you listen to Aemond, and the circle is closed and complete.

Criston is walking over now. You turn to him, needing good news, bad news, any news. “It was a Wallace supporter,” Criston says. From his seat, Aegon is watching Criston with his slow drugged gaze, listening intently. “Some bell pepper farmer from up by Jacksonville.”

“He’s been taken to the local jail for holding?” you ask, and then add: “Alive?”

“Yeah, and he already has a record. Assault and battery. His brother-in-law is apparently a Grand Dragon in the Klan.”

“What the hell is a Grand Dragon?”

“Well, it’s higher than a Goblin, but not as illustrious as an Imperial Wizard, does that answer your question?”

“Perfectly.” You smile at Criston, a pained, wry smile. He returns it and places a palm over your belly. You are still wearing the mint green dress Aemond picked out for you this morning, before he won the Florida primary, before he was shot twice by the disciple of a political adversary and laid at death’s doorstep. You are still covered in your husband’s blood.

“You’re feeling alright?” Then Criston smirks, knowing how ridiculous he must sound. “You know. All things considered.”

“We’re both fine. The baby’s moving around, I can feel it.”

“You can feel him, you mean,” Criston teases, knowing Aemond’s preoccupation with his unborn son; but you can’t bring yourself to appreciate the joke.

Aegon says to you suddenly: “How the fuck did you let this happen?”

“What?” you answer, stunned.

Aegon stands and approaches, lurching, raging. “You always have to be right beside him, in the photographs, in the headlines, in the soundbites, but you let some psychopath run up and shoot him? Twice?!”

“I thought he just wanted to shake Aemond’s hand, or maybe get a quote for an article—”

“You didn’t notice the gun?!”

“Aegon, sit down,” Criston orders.

“It happened in seconds,” you say. “You think you would have done better? You and your Valium, and your Librium, and your Percodan? You think your reaction time would have been so superior to mine?”

“Please,” Alicent moans, mopping tears from her pink cheeks with a handkerchief. “Please, don’t fight, not now…”

“We are all friends here,” Fosco adds in his thick Italian accent, yo-yoing by a window.

“You want to be the first lady so bad but you can’t handle it!” Aegon shouts, his voice echoing through the lobby. “You’re not some prodigy, you don’t have all the answers, you’re just a girl who stitched yourself to Aemond and then you let him get shot, he’s being operated on right now, maybe he’s even dying, and you still act like you’re so fucking perfect—”

“You’re mad because you know that everybody here is thinking the same thing,” you tell Aegon, cold and cruel. “That if someone had to get killed tonight it should have been you.”

Aegon’s mouth drops open; he stares at you with that slippery, opaque, stoned woundedness, pathetic, infuriating, illogically childish. Everyone else pretends they haven’t heard you. Alicent sniffles into her handkerchief. Fosco begins humming I Want To Hold Your Hand. Mimi chews sluggishly on her BLT. From the nurses’ station, Otto says, holding the phone to his chest: “It’s George Wallace. He’s calling for Aemond’s wife.” Then he waits to see if you’ll agree to take it.

Of course you will. You have to. You are acting in your husband’s stead. You go to the nurses’ station and grab the handset when Otto passes it to you. “This is Mrs. Targaryen.”

“Ma’am, I just wanted to offer you my sincerest condolences.” He has a pronounced drawl, born and raised in what he has praised as the Great Anglo-Saxon Southland. You animal, you think. You braindead bigot. “I do hope the senator makes a hasty recovery. I sure would like to beat him at the ballot box, but I have no stomach for anarchy. An act like this is repugnant to me, as it should be to any red-blooded American.”

“It was one of yours, do you know that?” you say, dripping venom. “One of your hateful ghouls.”

“I have no such knowledge. But if the shooter does turn out to be a supporter of my campaign, I disavow him utterly. He deserves a nice long sit in Old Sparky and then to meet his maker.”

“You inspire men to commit violence, and then you renounce them when they spill blood. I’m still wearing my husband’s. It’s on my hands, it’s on my dress, and I will not absolve you of blame. You are a gardener of discord. You grow it like roses or wheat. You tend to it until it blooms.” Otto is studying you, bushy eyebrows raised. “If you’d truly like to repent, perhaps dropping out of the Democratic primary would be a good start. And then you could find something useful to do, like drowning yourself.”

From whatever office he’s currently lounging comfortably in, his shoes kicked up on the desk, Wallace chuckles. “Aemond is very fortunate to have as ardent a defender as you, my dear.”

“Yes, a devoted wife is such a treasure. It’s a shame you killed yours.”

“Ma’am, once again, I just wanted to express how terribly sorry I am for your family’s hardship. I would never wish for an incident like this—”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be emboldening white supremacists then!” You slam the phone as you hang up.

Otto looks at you. He says: “Did it go well?”

The heavy double doors leading to the operating theater swing open, and a surgeon steps through them, still drying his hands with a dark blue towel. He has changed his scrubs and washed his skin, but you notice a spot he missed: a fleck of half-dried blood up by his temple. That’s Aemond, you think. That’s a piece of him.

Everyone rushes to gather around the doctor, even Mimi; she lists like a ship taking on water as she walks, gnawing at all that remains of her BLT, just a sliver of white toast crust.

“The senator is alive,” the doctor says, and Alicent cries out in relief. Criston rests a palm on her shoulder. “But we could not save the eye.”

“He’s half-blind?” you ask. There’s never been a half-blind president. There’s never been a Greek one either. And the only reason this is stuck in your mind is because you know it will consume Aemond’s.

The doctor nods. “We had to remove it. The bullet that struck Senator Targaryen in the head, fortunately, was more of a graze. It ricocheted off his skull and didn’t cause any trauma to the brain, but his eye was…” He hesitates, trying to find a more polite word than shredded, macerated, pulverized. “Destroyed.”

“You stopped the bleeding?” Aegon says, astonished. “He’s okay? He’s really okay?”

“The second bullet pierced the thoracic cavity and was lodged less than an inch from his heart. He was very lucky. We repaired the damage to the best of our ability, and I am optimistic that the senator will make a full recovery. He’s resting comfortably now, but he should be awake soon.”

“Oh, thank God,” Alicent says, glistening dark eyes raised to heaven. The salient points gathered, Fosco wanders off again, his yo-yo dangling from its string.

Otto asks: “When can he resume campaigning?”

The doctor is caught off-guard; it takes him a moment to answer. “That will depend on the senator’s stamina as he regains his strength. If he chooses to stay in the race at all.”

Otto scoffs. “Of course he’ll stay in. This is what he lives for. You really can’t give me a ballpark figure?”

The doctor is determinately impassive. “I would estimate a month or two before he can withstand the rigors of the campaign trail again.”

“California is June 4th,” Otto recalls, counting off dates on his fingers. “Illinois is the 11th, New York is the 18th…”

“Look, there are people outside!” Fosco announces excitedly as he peers through one of the windows. “Hello! Hello everybody!”

“Fosco, you idiot, stop waving,” Otto snaps. “Go sit down.”

“But they are cheering.”

“Not for you.”

Fosco, somewhat deflated, grabs an egg salad sandwich off the platter and plops into a chair to eat it. He’s dressed in a green plaid sport coat and tight white trousers, very chic, very European. You’ve never been able to imagine Fosco and Helaena being passionately romantic with each other. They’re both a bit too doll-like for that, closer to Barbie and Ken than flesh and blood, blank stares and vague ambitions.

“Someone should talk to them,” Alicent says softly. She means the crowd that is forming in front of the hospital: journalists, cops, local politicians, mutilated veterans, college kids, farmers, fishermen, women and children, the future and the past. Everyone turns to look at you.

“I’ll do it,” you volunteer. You will, you must. Aemond could have chosen a hundred similarly suited women to be his wife, but he chose you, and when he did your vows became a blood oath.

Criston accompanies you downstairs to where the crowd has gathered just outside the front entrance of Good Samaritan Medical Center. The night air is warm and humid, the stars bright. You had thought of so many things to tell these people as you’d stood in the elevator as it descended, but now your mind is empty, fearful. There are photographers with blinding camera flashes and apostles waiting with famished eyes. From the depths of injustice and poverty and war, they have come to pay their respects to the man they believe is destined to save not just themselves but their world. What should I say? What would Aemond want me to say?

“I am very pleased to share with you all that Senator Targaryen is out of surgery and regaining his strength.”

There are cheers and applause and prayers; you are still clutching the komboskini that the old woman gave you in the lobby of the Breakers Hotel. You see more prayer ropes in this flock, and rosaries too, Bibles and dog tags, copies of The Autobiography of Malcolm X and Joanne Didion’s Slouching Towards Bethlehem.

“We would like to thank you for your heartfelt support. Aemond and I are so very grateful, and he is looking forward to being back on the campaign trail soon.”

More clapping and whistling, and then the crowd waits. You aren’t sure what they want to hear as you stand in the glow of the hospital luminance; your hands are trembling wildly, so you clasp them together as you hold the komboskini. Criston glances over at you, concerned. You settle on the truth.

“The man who tried to kill my husband tonight is a supporter of former Alabama governor George Wallace and an avowed white supremacist. Any ideology that advocates for violence and prejudice is a threat to our bodies, our nation, and our souls. We will not surrender to it, not even when our lives are in jeopardy. We will not concede that hope for a better world is lost. We will press ever onward with the knowledge that God is on our side, and that the future of this country is worth fighting for.”

You are bathed in flashbulb lightning; your ears ring with the thunder of the applause. You are shaking hands now, nodding, beaming, Criston following you like a shadow as you move through the congregation. You stop to listen to a middle-aged woman in a floral dress who wants to give you marriage advice: never get bossy, don’t become selfish, remember that you are his safe harbor in the storms of life. It is your job to gift her your momentary veneration. You have beauty, but she has wisdom; or at least, that is the bargain that has been struck, that is the presumption everyone agrees upon. She must have some advantage over you, otherwise the decades she has spent in service of her parents and husband and children have been wasted, she has carved away pieces of herself to feed hungry mouths until she vanished like the doomed nymph Echo. In return, she tries not to envy you too much, not to dismiss you as foolish or frivolous or lustful. Sometimes you think that women are filled with such vicious, relentless self-loathing that it feels good to direct it at someone else for a while, to pick apart another body, to tally up the deficits of her spirit.

“Aemond is so lucky to have you,” the woman says. You can barely hear her over the roar of the crowd.

And you smile as you dutifully reply: “I think it’s the other way around.”

~~~~~~~~~~

There is a television mounted on the wall in Aemond’s room. The news coverage, the volume turned way down low, oscillates between his own near-assassination and the stalled peace talks in Paris. Representatives of the United States and North Vietnam cannot agree, and so each day more body bags are flown home to return the bones of the nation’s sons and fathers to Missouri, Alabama, Idaho, Maine, Wisconsin, Maryland, Arizona, California, New Jersey, everywhere else. Someone has to end it. Aemond will end it.

“I dreamed I won Florida,” your husband mumbles, and that’s how you know he’s awake, here in a hospital bed and wearing IVs like strings of Christmas lights around a pine tree.

“You did,” you tell him, gently smoothing back his hair from his forehead. His left eye—where his left eye used to be—is bandaged; his words are soft and labored. “Humphrey was second. Wallace got third. But you won. And you’re going to be okay.”

“McCarthy?”

“It seems you’re devouring his coalition.”

Aemond’s lips slowly curl into a grin, triumphant. “It is God’s will.” And this is what he always says. It is God’s will that he survives, it is God’s will that he wins the presidency, it is God’s will that you give him sons.

“Yes,” you agree, lifting his right hand to kiss his knuckles. Then you press the komboskini you’re still carrying into his weak grasp. It means more to Aemond than it does to you. “Yes it is.”

Aemond sinks into unconsciousness again, morphine and dreams that blur with reality. There will be pain soon, and plenty of it, but he is free from that impending truth for now. You rise from your chair to tell the rest of the family that Aemond is beginning to wake up. Alicent and Criston will want to speak with him.

When you open the door, Aegon is standing there: an eavesdropper, a trespasser. He glares at you with his large wet ocean-blue eyes, hazy with pills, glinting with resentment. Reluctantly, you step aside to let him in. Aegon wobbles as he passes you and has to grab onto the doorframe to steady himself, scrabbling like a trapped animal.

“You’re a disaster,” you say, caustic like acid, biting, repulsed.

Aegon whirls and jabs his index finger against your chest, bloodstained mint green wool bouclé by Chanel. “You’re a vessel. You’re a cow. And one day he’ll be done with you.”

You feel something hitting you like a bullet, cracking ribs, piercing lungs, tearing muscles and ligaments. Your lips have parted, but you can’t fathom words. Aegon has said many things to you—bitter things, belittling things, things in mixed company, things when you’re alone—but never this. For the first time since you met him two years ago, he has won one of your sparring matches. He has the upper hand. He has wounded you.

Aegon can see this, certainly. But he doesn’t seem pleased with himself. He looks a little shellshocked, like he can’t quite believe he said the words, like maybe if given the chance again he wouldn’t take it. But the moment is over now, and you can’t get time back, it is a thread that unspools until every inch is gone, spent, tangled in a thousand webs.

Aegon staggers into the hospital room. You flee from it. Out in the lobby the phone at the nurses’ station is ringing again. They’ll all be calling now to give their requisite sympathies. Humphrey counsels prudence, McCarthy prays for peace, LBJ offers the empathy of someone who has felt the cold gaze of Death in his own doorway, Nixon praises Aemond’s resilience and quotes the ancient philosopher Seneca: “There is no easy way from the earth to the stars.”

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen #aegon ii #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon x y/n #aegon x you #aegon targaryen ii x you #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader

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fandoms--fluff · 1 year

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Family Therapist

Female vampire reader x Elijah Mikaelson

Summary: Elijah is your husband and you've been basically the family therapist. Well, one night you both became one for his little brother.

Warnings: mentions of death I think?, mentions of ghosts,

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elijah and you have been married for well over 400 years and over time you have gotten used to the family's drama and dynamic.

There have been many times when you acted as the family therapist, and let's not kid ourselves, you still are. Just somehow in weirder ways than some may think.

(But let's also be real, you still have to lecture Klaus out of daggering any of his siblings or hurting them 'just because', being the only one who he actually listens to, which is a miracle by itself.)

A great example is what just happened one night.

Surprising enough, this is the first time you've ever been in a situation like this. It's definitely not the worst or anything of it, but this was very different to say the least.

You were sound asleep in your husband's arms until you hear the door to your guys' room slam open. Both of you separate in alert, but the only danger there is, is the body that crashed between the both of you.

"What the?" You said sleepily and reached over to turn the lamp on.

Once the light lit the room in a yellow glow, you both look at the visitor in your bed.

"Kol? What are you doing?" Elijah asks, surprised that his younger brother is there, without acknowledging one of you.

"Oh you know, just missed my older brother and his wife" his voice was muffled by the pillow he pressed his face in to.

"Uh huh, and how does that explain you gripping onto the blanket for dear life?" You raised your eyebrow at the youngest brother.

"Because it's soft?" He asked unsure, rather than answering you.

"What happened?" You kept your eyebrow raised at the immortal teenager, no way for him to get himself out of this conversation now. Elijah saw that look on your face, knowing, now you won't budge until you get the truth out of Kol.

Kol looked up at you, letting out a huff, seeing no way of getting out of this. At least this is better than Nik, he'd just throw him in a box, he thought.

"I swear I saw someone move in my room, but I couldn't find anything, so I came in here to make sure if the ghost comes back there'll be alibis" he rapidly said, and hid his face back into the pillow, feeling his cheeks starting to turn red.

You and Elijah shared a look of concern before your husband placed a hand on Kol's back. "Kol, you don't have to be embarrassed about that, considering your experience with ghosts in the past, you have a right to react the way you did," he told him.

"Lijah's right, we would never judge you about that. So what if you're a bit wary about ghosts, it's normal, a lot of people are" you added.

Kol's breath hitched before speaking, "Really?" He looked up at both of you.

"Of course" You and Elijah nodded.

He smiled softly before a cheeky grin appeared on his face. "Just so you know, I'm not leaving. And if that ghost takes me, I'd rather have my final moments with you guys over Nik, who would most likely yell at me."

He laid his head back down on the pillow and closed his eyes, knowing that he was laying between you guys. "I know you guys probably want to be laying together and be all cute and couply, but I don't want to think about you two doing anything over pg-13. My poor innocence couldn't handle it" he said and let out an 'oof' when you smacked him with a pillow for the comment.

"Have you ever even been innocent?" You asked and looked at Elijah with amused eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose, looking like a tired father that just had to put up with his child. Honestly, he just did, considering what Kol had just said and he can sadly be even more immature.

"Of course I have...like that time...okay maybe when I was human, but that still counts" he mumbles and sticks his tongue out at you. And he hates it when you call him a child? Really?

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redskull199987 · 6 months

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MIKE SCHMIDT!!?!?!?!

FNAF MOVIE ATE SO HARD okay but what about Mike Schmidt (aka Josh my childhood crush frfr) x eeader who was his childhood friend and despite her being obviously in love with him he never realized because of Geretts death his job problems and Abby so he always took everything for a "friendly gesture" (even though Abby told him multiple times and the overfriendliness duh) and one day after that one girl (the babysitter girl, something with M, forgot her name) didn't come he finally called her to babysit Abby which made her mad happy, and when she arrives before he leaves they maybe have a small romantic interaction which gets (sadly) interrupted by Abby by accident so he awkwardly leaves after that to work? This would be kind of a cliff hanger but I have this perfectly pictured in mind and I need someone to write this down, so please 🤞🏻 Thanks a lot, love you!!!

Waiting for Her

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader Request

Word Count:1.8k

Warnings:nothing basically, maybe a bit of anxiety on the readers side, but apart from that, it’s fluff, Movie spoilers obviously

Summary:You hadn’t seen your childhood friend Mike in years. And you certainly didn’t expect to see him anytime soon again. But what you didn’t plan on was him calling you to ask if you could babysit his little sister. And how could you say no to the man who was your first ever crush…

Masterlist

You didn’t plan on going out again today. Strictly speaking, you were actually about to go to sleep, since you had a long day at work and all you wanted to do was to fall into the comfort of your bed.

But right, as you entered your bedroom to get ready for the night, you heard your phone ringing from the hallway. Your brows furrowed in confusion, as you didn’t know who in the world would be calling at such ungodly hours.

You glanced at the clock on your wall once more, it was already 11pm, before you made your way towards your phone. Your suspicions only rose, as you didn’t recognize the number. But against all odds, you decided to answer.

“Hello?”, you asked gingerly, your voice slightly shaking.

Your Paranoia quickly dissolved into nothingness, as the Person on the other Side of the Line quickly answered:”Y/N? This is Mike, Mike Schmidt.”

“Mike?”, You wondered,”As much as I enjoy hearing from you again, why are you calling me in the middle of the Night?”

“If it were possible? My usual Babysitter didn’t show up and I can’t leave Abby alone.”, he tried to explain.

“Uh, this is kinda out of nowhere, but I was wondering if you could babysit my little sister?”, he asked, the slight Embarrassment in his voice painfully obvious.

To say that you were taken aback by his question would’ve been an understatement:”Like right now?”

Your mind was reassembling a hurricane for a minute, as your thoughts were racing towards every possible answer that You could give him. Were you tired and wanted to sleep? Of course, you were. But you also wanted to help out Mike, he was your childhood best friend after all. Even if you didn’t see each other in quite a while. After his little Brother died, he distanced himself from you more and more. You didn’t judge him, he was mourning after all, but you couldn’t deny the pang in your heart every time you thought back to him.

“So?”, Mike inquired after you didn’t answer,”Do you think it would be possible?”

You didn’t give yourself enough time to think it over once more. It seemed like you answered on autopilot:”Ehm, sure. Just tell me your address and I’ll come over.”

Mike quickly thanked you and gave you his address, you scribbled it down on a small Post-it-Note, before hanging up. You could only stare at your phone in silence. What the hell did you just agree on? Were you truly ready to see Mike again? What would he think if he saw you? Surely, you had changed quite a bit since you last saw him. And even more important, how did he look now? What was going on in his life?

Since you were to babysit his little Sister, you thought that he was probably taking care of her. Where were his Parents? Did they die? Was Mike really raising his little sister on his own? Or did he have someone? A Partner potentially?

Your eyes widened. What if he did have a Partner? Not that it was any of your business, but you didn’t forget how much of a Crush you had on him back then. But he was your best friend, so you didn’t say anything.

And then you grew apart.

You quickly shook your head, trying not to overthink it too much. You looked back at your phone and realized in horror, that You had been standing there in the Hallway for ten minutes, just staring to the ground.

“Oh Shit!”, You mumbled to yourself and quickly jogged back to your room to throw on a pair of Jeans and grab your jacket. With your keys in one hand and your Phone in the other, You made your way out of your Apartment and towards your car. You took one last deep breath in and looked back to your Home, before finally starting the car and driving to the Address, Mike had given you.

With your hands slightly shaking, You knocked on the Door of an inconspicuous Apartment. You could see Lights coming from the inside and a Car was parked in Front, so You knew someone was Home. You just hoped that it was the right address and that you didn’t accidentally scare some People by randomly knocking on their Door.

But as the Door swiftly opened, you presumed that your assumptions were unnecessary. In front of you, stood a tall young Man with curly Brown hair. He was wearing a Security west over his Hoodie, it even had a small Badge pinned to it. He may have looked different, but Eyes were the same. You were sure that you would recognize his Eyes in every other Universe. And it were exactly those eyes that were staring at you in disbelief right now.

“Mike?”, You finally said, a smile now lacing your lips. All Anxiety aside, you were just happy to see him again. The Boy you had seen everyday when You were a kid had now grown into a man. And a pretty handsome one on top of that.

“Y-Yeah, it’s me.”, Mike mumbled, running a hand through his hair,”You…You look really pretty.”

You felt heat rising to your cheeks and you quickly looked to the ground, the smile on your face only growing bigger.

“I missed you.”, You finally said,”Mind if I ask for a Hug?”

Mike only shook his head, already stepping closer to you, slinging his arms around your waist. As his warmth engulfed you, you realized once more how much you had missed him, so You made sure to give him an extra-large squeeze before the two of you parted.

Mike only looked at you, with what you thought was adoration, in his eyes, before he asked you inside.

“So, what have you been up to?, You asked, as you carefully glanced around his apartment. It wasn’t particularly big, but it looked cozy. You spotted a TV in front of a Sofa in the living room and directly following it was the small kitchen with a round table in the middle. You presumed that the hallway led to the bathroom and Abby’s and Mike’s Bedrooms.

“Oh you know, this and that. Mainly looking after my sister.”, Mike finally answered your question, as he grabbed his car keys from the living room and came back to you,”What about you?”

“Nothing too interesting.”, You smiled politely,”I work in a boring office and live in a boring Apartment and go to the same boring Mall now and then.”

“No Partner or something like that?”, Mike asked with furrowed Brows and you saw the regret on his face, as he realized that his question may have been a bit too straight forward.

But You only chuckled, trying to lighten the Mood:”No, I don’t have a Partner. Why?”

“Oh you k-know..”, he mumbled, looking to the Ground,”I thought, someone as pretty as you would have a Partner.”

You were quite sure that you must have looked dumbfounded as hell, but neither Mike nor you got any chance to say anything, as you saw a small Girl running down the Hallway, towards the two of You.

“Mike! I wanna come with You”, She quietly whined and grabbed his arm. Mike only gave you an apologetic look, before leaning down to her height:”Abby, we talked about this. You know, it’s too dangerous for you to come.”

Abby only pouted in response and now, her gaze finally fell onto you. Her big brown eyes inspected you from top to bottom:”Is that the Girl you always talk about?”

Now it was Mike’s turn to blush, as he swiftly rose to his feet again:”This is Y/N. She will look after you tonight. We were friends when we were about your age.”

“Oh, I feel honored.”, You chuckled,”Tell me, what do you wanna do tonight?”

You gave the small girl a warm smile, before also leaning down to her height, just as Mike had done it mere seconds ago.

“I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, Abby”, You said and held your hand out for her to take it. She looked at it for a second, before gently grabbing and shaking it:”I like you.”

“Mike only lets me stay up until 12”, Abby pouted and glared at her older Brother.

You looked back and forth between them for a second. She really was a lot like her brother, you noted.

“I tell you something, come here.”, You motioned for her to step closer and as she did, You mumbled something into her ear, so that Mike couldn't hear it,”I’ll let you stay up as long as you like and I won’t tell Mike. It’ll be our little secret, okay?”

The Girl practically beamed at you and nodded eagerly, before taking off towards her room again. With a chuckle, you got back to your feet to accompany Mike to the door.

“Thanks again.”, Mike mumbled, opening the Door,”I’ll pay you as soon as I get my salary, I promise.”

“There’s no need for that, Mike”, You chuckled patting his shoulder. The Boy looked at You like You were his Lord and Saviour:”How can I repay you?”

“See you tomorrow then.”, you beamed and waved your hand at him, as he made his way towards his car. You looked after him for a minute, before you heard Abby calling out for you.

“You could…yk, Go out with me some time.”,You proposed shyly, looking to the Ground.

But much to your Favour, Mike gave you a smile and a nod:”I’d love to.”

You concluded that it was the right decision to answer Mike’s Call.

Bonus:

After a long and dreadful Night at the Pizza Plex, Mike finally arrived back home. He was ready to just fall into his bed and sleep through the entire day.

And as he stepped closer, he felt his heartbeat slightly pick up. There you were, huddled up on the Couch, but what he didn’t expect was that Abby was laying next to you. Or rather, on top of you. The two of You cuddled up together under the blanket, like a bunch of cats.

But his plans changed, as he stepped into the apartment. He was about to call out for you, when he spotted someone laying on the Couch in the Living Room.

A small smile made its way onto his face and he quickly stepped forward to adjust the blanket on the two of you, before quietly making his way towards his room. Mike decided that it was a good idea to call You up and ask for help.

465 notes · View notes

baekhvuns · 2 years

Text

bodyguard.

synopsis : in which his task is to be your bodyguard, his mob-boss’s daughter. where he not only guards you but also guards your body.

pairing : seonghwa x reader

themes : romcom, angst & smut.

word count : 37.8K.

to say that your father trusted you was a correct statement to some extent, but what he didn’t trust was the environment you were brought up in.

raising two kids despite being a mafia syndicate and hiding his very mafia-like tendencies wasn’t always easy, considering that both his kids would run around during meetings that not a single soul was to hear.

being raised in a secluded home- mansion per-say that was directly out of a architectural digest magazine, the one your father built from his own hands. residing in it with a happy family with his lovely wife, you, and your younger brother.

he had given you and your brother the bestest facilities growing up, from sending you two to prestigious schools despite having no idea what they actually were to giving you two toys that were only ever made twice in the world.

but now that you, his eldest has grown up. he can’t help but be vary of the environment you were in, it’s not that he didn’t trust you. he didn’t trust a single soul outside his house.

he broke his pact and told you what he did for living the day you turned eighteen, he expected a completely different reaction to the one you gave him. which went along the lines of, “oh, okay.”

so now that you were of age and so were the heirs to other’s mafia groups, he was hesitant to send you anywhere without proper security. seeing how excessively violent his field of work can get, having tiny, minuscule disagreements that could have the worst possible results.

and how you were to take over your father’s position one day, he couldn’t ever risk you or his family getting hurt. it’ll be the one thing that’ll kill him if one day someone gets their hands on his much-protected family.

So, when he makes a decision, looking at the fine, young, tall man dressed in the finest of suits payed by your father. black hair slicked back, a tie with a pin of your dad’s group the crown.

a smile on his wrinkly face he lifts his forefinger up and motions for the man to come closer, who bows his head and then walks stiffly towards you father who sat on his office chair.

“i hope you’ll be the perfect man for this job,” his raspy voice says, eyes falling over the man, who he thinks is quite handsome, and will cause him some trouble in the future.

“yes, sir.” he hears and smiles, “i will not give you a moment of disgrace, if i do, please fire me.”

a laugh bubbles out your dad’s mouth as he shakes his head, leaning forward on the table with a stance that terrified the man standing in front with his arms crossed behind his back.

“and if you do mr park.” your father enunciates, “i won’t. spare you.”

with a quick swallow the younger man nods and your father leans back with a smile, hands resting on each armrest he lifts a hand to tell him that.

“my daughter will be off soon, she’ll come here straight.” he mumbles and the man nods, “i will give you some rules to follow but i believe this is basic knowledge since you have been my guard, am i right park?”

“yes, sir.”

you father reaches for his glasses, placing them over his nose bridge yet still squinting his eyes as he reads the printed sheet of paper. written on it were rules he and his wife made just last night, sitting on their bed conspiring safety measurements.

“number one,” he starts, “you are to never leave my daughter alone, be it in public settings or more closed off settings.”

“yes, sir.”

you father ticks an eyebrow up and continues with a nod and a quick scan of the man, “two. you are to accompany my only daughter and ensure her utmost safety. her life comes first, understood park?”

“yes, sir.”

your father raises his eyes to meet the boy’s, “i assume you have more than just ‘yes, sir’s’ in your vocabulary?”

“i do, sir.”

he smirks, likes how the man keeps it short and simple. “moving on,” he exhales, “as she will be taking over my position in the coming future, you shall always be her right-hand man in any case scenario.”

“four,” he sits up straight, “do not leave my daughter alone in case of emergencies, she is your responsibility at all times.”

“i won’t disappoint you, sir.”

with a nod he continues, clearing his throat as he reads the next one. “fifth, you are to not make any relation with my daughter.”

your father looks ahead, eyes forming into slits. “do not touch my daughter or hurt her, if i get a hunch, i’ll cut your hands off.”

a shaky nod leaves the man. “do not make any sorts of relationship with her, be it courtship or any sort of sexual relationship.”

“am i making myself clear?”

“y-yes, sir.” he responds, “i’m not to make any mistakes that can sadden you, i will pay good attention on that.”

“good,” he smiles, “you can however be friends…to a limit.”

“do n-“

“dad!”

your father’s grim turns into a big smile, face brightening when he hears your call for him. bursting through his office doors with arms wide open and running to him, “oh sweetheart! how was school?”

he asks as you roll your eyes and hug him, “dad you keep forgetting it’s not school anymore, it’s a university!”

when he pulls back, he pats your forearm, “forgive this old man, i’m a little forgetful at times.”

you raise an eyebrow, “forgetful? not when you remember to take a daily shot of whi-“

“okay, okay!” you smile, your dad huffing before he looks ahead and you follow his line of vision.

there stood a man who suddenly stood straighter when your eyes landed on him, you don’t realize your father holding your hand because you’re so busy staring at the man in front of you.

clad in those black tuxes, a gun holster you know is attached to his broader chest. you can’t help but look at the way the tux cinches his waist, your tongue runs across your right cheek as you take the man’s appearance in.

“y/n,”

“yes, dad.” you reply, eyes on the man who never spared you a glance.

“meet your new bodyguard,” you raise an eyebrow. “park seonghwa.”

“i’m park seonghwa, your new bodyguard from now on.” you watch the man bow, “i’m to be by your side whenever you go out at all times, it’s nice to meet you ma’am.”

you bite back a smile at the use of ma’am that’s never been used to address you, and instead you lean back on your bed a little. watching the man’s his upper body for a few seconds and which then stood straight, feet apart and hands crossed behind his back.

“hi, seonghwa.” you say, and he nods, “you have to be with me everywhere?”

“yes, ma’am.”

“call me y/n.”

“yes ma’am.”

with a shake of your head you continue, “do you have to be there at my university?”

“yes, ma’am.”

“when i go to malls, clubs or those events?”

“yes, yes and yes.”

you smile at his response and then cross your legs over the other, being amused at the way he stares at your face and not look down when you crossed your legs. gentleman you thought.

“even…” you lean forward a little, “to the bathroom?”

he pauses for a little and then clears his throat, “public places, ma’am.”

“what about public bathrooms?” you blink twice and his lips form into a line.

“i’m afraid that’s a place i’m not allowed in,” he mumbles, so formal that it hurt you to admit you liked it. “to satisfy your privacy that is.”

with a smile you reach out to grab the thin file your father had given to you, “i assume this is your file, right?”

“yes, ma’am.”

you flip through the papers to see a passport size photo of seonghwa, staring at it a tad bit longer because you finally get to see his eyes that aren’t hidden by the dark sunglasses he wore. they’re sharp, feline-like, scary but so warm that it tingled your fancy.

“you’re a really high-profile man seonghwa, what are you going to do trailing behind me?” you ask as your eyes graze the achievements of the man and no wonder, he’s in your dad’s personal security squad, his credentials are simply spectacular.

from the way he can use almost any artillery given, dismantle and rearrange them to being an assassin for a long running italian mafia before, that one definitely piqued your interest.

“i serve your family ma’am, your father specifically.” he says, looking at you going through his profile. “whatever he says are my orders, ma’am.”

“stop calling me that,”

“yes, ma’am.”

you sigh and then look at him, then pat the spot on the bed you sat on. “if you’re going to be my bodyguard, we should get to know each other!”

“i’m sorry ma’am, i’m not here to make any sort of relationship with you.” he says, sternly. “i’m prohibited to do so.”

“do you always use those fancy, formal words?”

“yes, ma’am.”

“how would you like for me to address you?” you ask, tilting your head to the side a little. “i can’t call you bodyguard everywhere, people can get suspicious.”

“park seonghwa.” he nods after saying that.

you lean an elbow on your leg, tapping your chin as if thinking what to call him when you already know. “what about hwa?”

“seonghwa.”

“what about seong?”

“park seonghwa, ma’am.” he emphasizes, and you grin, your eye smile on display.

“okay, hwa!”

you know he inhales at his defeat, but it only makes you smile more, “so since i know a bit about you, you should know something about me! go on, ask me questions.”

“i have no questions ma’am,” he responds, and you frown.

“not even one?”

he shakes his head, “i already know the most i’ve to know about you, your allergies for emergencies and your daily schedule.”

you nod, “you know about my family?”

he smiles just a bit, “i work for them, of course i do.” he says, briefly glancing at his watch. “i believe your younger brother will be off school now, would you like to go pick him up?”

“ew no,” you scrunch your nose, “why would i go pick up that idiot.”

“as you wish,” he nods and then takes a step back, “if you need anything, please call for me. i’ll be down the hallwa-“

“i don’t have your number,” you grin, reaching for your phone and handing it out to him. “go on, don’t be shy now.”

“i’m not allowed to use your phone ma’am,” you throw your head back and groan, standing on your feet and then walking towards him, just enough till you’re standing right in front.

your finger lifts up to poke his hard chest that you know he works out for, “stop calling me ma’am, we are almost the same age.” you see the slight shift in his posture, “i have a name and its y/n. second, you are my bodyguard. you can use my phone, third you’re about to step on my cat’s tail.”

the third one catches him so off-guard that he takes a quick jump to the side, both your eyes falling to the floor where a cute siamese floofball sat, adorably innocent wide eyes and head tilted with its tail curled in a coil.

“you said you know everyone in my family,” you kneel down, reaching your hand out for your cat who complies and places it’s face on the palm of your hand. “but you forgot my cat, meet dumbles.”

you see the way seonghwa’s head does a quick snap tilt, “…dumbles?” he asks, momentarily leaving the sternness out of him and kneeling down beside you to stare at your round cat.

“you haven’t watched harry potter?” you ask, petting your cat’s head as he purrs and closes his eyes.

“i-i have ma’am,” he quickly adds, his nerd self-having a field day in his mind. “i just don’t know how that relates?”

“dumbles, short for dumbledore.” you hear him sigh at the name and it makes you snort, reaching to hold your cat like a baby you nudge him to seonghwa. “he’s more like my bodyguard really.”

and it’s the first time you’ve seen a full smile grace his plump lips when he reaches to pet dumbles, “i think i’m going to have to compete for this job?”

with a purr of your cat and a laugh that bubbles out of you, it’s then when you suddenly lean closer to his face. eyes squinty and he looks up, despite his glasses covering his eyes you can clearly make out that he’s blinking repeatedly.

“you’re cute.”

“ma’am, we’ll be late for your first class.”

you bring the blanket to your face, “ma’am, it’s already 11:30, your class starts in an hour.”

“seonghwa, are you my mother or my bodyguard?” you groan, peeking a little from your blanket with droopy and squinty eyes.

“your bodyguard ma’am,” you hear him say, then hearing his footsteps go the side of your room and push the curtains away to reveal the sun. “my duty is for you to be at your university right now.”

he hears a whine come from behind him and he looks over his shoulder to see you twisted in some random position as you stretched, taking the entire blanket with you. he hears you yawn his name in a singing voice and all he does is stand at the foot of your bed; hands folded behind him.

you lift your head up on your elbow, eyeing seonghwa’s ever so classic and sophisticated tux with a smile. “gooood morning, seong!”

“good morning, ma’am, please get ready.” he taps his wristwatch, “breakfast is ready downstairs.”

“how are you doing seong?” you ask, completely avoiding whatever he said with a smile.

“very well ma’am,” he says, tapping his watch once again. “it’s time for you to be downstairs ma’am.”

your lips form into a small pout and you shift on the bed, until you’re sitting crisscross in front of him. “you know my mom would love you,” he says nothing, “you’d be someone who’d make me go everywhere on time.”

“that is my job ma’am.”

“good,” you nod, then extending your hand out to him. “could you please help me get out of bed?”

he says nothing but reaches his larger hand to grab yours, his slightly calloused hands holding your softer ones before he juts you up with one hand. so quick and strong that you almost land on seonghwa instead, “thank you, hwa.”

“no worries, ma’am.” he straightens himself up, taking a few steps back and not looking anywhere but your face. “i’ll be downstairs by the bentley.”

you would’ve never thought that you would ever find a man so classy, so hot and yet so infuriating at times. specifically, when he calls you ma’am or quietly slides you a sheet of your schedule of your classes to remind you of the time again at the breakfast table, making your sibling laugh.

so, when you walked out decked in your branded clothes, that one, you barely wore. two, chanel’s tweed jacket keeps poking you in your side and three to match you little- tall bodyguard.

it’s the way you look like his counterpart if not for the gold chanel pin you have on top of your chest, a wide smile on your face that can only be described as sheepish and a jump to your steps.

the drive to your uni is filled with nothing but silence, despite the looks you throw at him from the rear that you know he manages to see once in a while. or the way he shakes his head when he sees you poke your tongue out at him the middle of a red light.

“are you going inside too?” you ask once you get out of the car, flattening your skirt and then clutching your bag tighter.

“yes ma’am.” he merely nods after instead motioning for you to walk first so he walks behind.

and you do as told, walking in front full well knowing a tall, intimidatingly attractive man is walking behind you. seeing the stares, you’re getting it’s only making you prove a point that he is in fact, the finest man you’ve laid your eyes on.

your heels and his shoes match in pace, click clacking against the university marble floor. he walks in silence, occasionally using an arm to swat anyone in your way which makes him brush your arm quite often and leads him to apologize.

when you’re about to enter the classroom, he abruptly comes to a stop in front of you.

“what’s going on, seong?”

“i’ve to check the class for your safety, ma’am.” he says, and your laugh gets drowned by the chatter of students when he opens the door to peek inside. he then steps aside, opening the door for you fully and gesturing for you to walk in. “after you.”

“thank you,” you quickly mumble, suddenly being aware of the stares you’re getting as you hurry to walk to your seat.

once you’re settled down, the lingering figure of seonghwa stood by you. you glance at him and then the class who obviously looked at him, some in awe, some in confusion and the rest with their jaws dropped.

“you don’t have to come in my class,” you whisper, “there’s nothing to worry here.”

he bends at his waist, “i can’t do that ma’am, there’s quite a lot of threat in this class.” he says, eyeing the room. “your dad’s seventh enemy’s nephew sits thirteen seats behind you, anything could happen.”

with a discreet glance over your shoulder and the obvious sign of danger that emitted 13 seats away from you. eyebrow slit and eyes ready to throw daggers you slowly turn to seonghwa, “okay…” you shift to the right, “sit by me then.”

“i can’t do that ma’am.”

you raise an eyebrow, ears twitching at the door to the classroom opening and knowing your teacher walked in. and if he saw a man dressed in a black suit, an earpiece, tall standing by you. you’d surely get in trouble.

you grab onto his sleeve, “shut up, and sit down.”

“m-“

“it’s an order, mr park.”

you knew that hit the mark when you visibly see him stiffen. nodding his head and then unbuttoning his tux to have a seat beside you, your eyes on the teacher and him leaning back to take a seat.

it’s only then when one of your seatmates, kyle decides to open his mouth and ask you a question that has seonghwa raising his eyebrows in disappointment.

“yo, y/n,” you look to your right, “can i borrow a pen?”

“oh!” you mumble, “ye-“

“keep your hands to yourself mister,” you hear seonghwa’s voice come from behind you sternly say, the sudden warmth radiating from him lingering on your back. you can’t see him, but you know the voice has kyle’s eyes widening. “bring your own pen kid, this is university not elementary.”

“s-sorry sir,” you hear his stutter, and it makes you look at seonghwa with a frown, who in return sighs and takes a pen out of his tux pocket.

“bring your own next time,” you hear him mumble before he sits back on the chair, back leaned and legs crossed neatly.

“would you like to get something to eat?” you hear him ask from the driver’s seat, eyes meeting yours through the rear mirror.

“did you really have to give him your pen?” you ask instead, leaning closer to place your chin on the driver’s seat.

“i can’t let anyone else have you-“ you raise an eyebrow when he stops the car at the right moment. “-r property.”

“so, you’d just give anyone your pen?” you say, hearing him tap his fingers along the steering wheel.

he nods curtly. “i believe your class tomorrow is at eight in the morning-“

you groan, “why do you always talk about school?” sporting a pout you look in the rear view, knowing that under his dark sunglasses he is staring at you.

“i’ll set the alarm,“ he replies and your shoulders slump lower. “ma’am.”

with a sigh, you lean back on the seat. pouting in frustration as the sound of your phone momentarily distracts you, you flip it to face you and scroll through the messages.

kai, 4:56pm

y/n

party tonight?

ryan’s place

y/n, 4:57pm

????

why his place

what time

kai, 4:59pm

uhhh

starts at 11

pick you up @ 12?

you snap your head up, “hey hwa, what time was my class tomorrow?”

“eight in the morning, ma’am.”

you curse under your breath, “shit, my hangover would kill me..” you bite down on your lip. looking at seonghwa through your lashes before looking down at the screen.

y/n, 5:01pm

ill drivo there

*drive

i’ll just meet u there

kai, 5:03pm

don’t be late dummy

you chuck your phone to the side when seonghwa calls for you, “y-yeah?”

“i won’t give my pens,” he pulls into your estate. “if that’s not what you’re comfortable with ma’am.”

“no, no,” you look out, mind completely not thinking about the party you’ve got to go too. plus, how will you go? with the tight security your dad has up on each and every wall of this house, you’re done for good. “you do, what you want! yeah!”

because if seonghwa’s supposed to be with you the entire day, how will you secretly- grab your stuff and get ready? how will you even make it past the entrance? surely you can’t use the front doors? gosh.

“ma’am, we are here.”

with that you grab your stuff in a hurry, opening the door you look at him one last time. “thanks for today seonghwa, but i have a really big exam tomorrow-“ you nod repeatedly. “and, uh, i won’t be out of my room till late! y-you can get an early lay off today! bye!”

“yes ma’am..”

you can’t do this.

you can’t go to the party with a hundred guards and doberman’s surrounding your place.

and you absolutely cannot go with seonghwa being just outside your door, “ma’am, shall i ask for your dinner to be prepared?”

you sit down on your bed, looking at the floor length mirror in front. there’s no way, absolutely no way you can escape this house in a dress that reaches till your thighs and in heels longer than your fingers.

before you can grab your phone, you hear another knock at your door. “ma’am?”

y/n, 11:47pm

kai

im not coming

kai, 11:49pm

why y/n

pls

you can’t leave me alone

with their shitshow

idk anyone

“give me a second seonghwa!”

y/n, 11:55pm

you know the entire school

doofus

kai, 11:55pm

pls

u can’t see me

but im on my knees

y/n, 12:00pm

fine

u owe me

kai, 12:01pm

take it or leave it

“ma’am?”

you snap your head up to look at the door, closing your eyes and then opening them with a shake of your head. “i’m, i’ll just be going straight to sleep seonghwa!” you yell, wanting him to leave so you can plan your own. “thank you for today!”

“have a goodnight, ma’am.”

oh, you’re about too, you grin. hearing the clacks of seonghwa’s shoes fade with each step, you rise slowly. grabbing your leather jacket, heels in hand because ain’t no way you’re jumping out your window in them.

you slowly go and turn off your lights, a perfect way to tell that you’re asleep. with a small smile, you push open the window that leads outside just by the garages. as you do so, you see the front gates open. presumably seonghwa leaving the premises, it makes you smile knowing no one will catch you.

with an inhale, cold air flushes inside making you shiver with excitement and the eagerness to get a drink.

you first, look around, knowing the lights at this time are dimmed for privacy sakes. you’ll find it easier to escape, so you carefully extend your hand out— (after sneaking a peek at your sleeping cat) the one that held your heels and slowly, one by one, throw them to the ground.

the soft sound of your heels hitting the grass is quiet, but you know it can pick the ears of the doberman’s your father loves, with a whine you throw your leg over the ledge. and then do the same with the other, sitting on the ledge fully with your balance perfect.

you look in the room once, knowing you’ve got a fake you covered in a blanket there, knowing your doors locked and knowing seonghwa’s gone home.

with that you jump.

your first mistake was to land on your shoes, making you twist your ankle, and a shriek leaves you but that’s quickly suppressed with the hand you put on your mouth.

biting back the pain as your face scrunches up for a scream that your hand hides, you slowly bend down to grab your heels. slowly placing pressure on your feet turn by turn despite a cry you’re desperately wanting to let out.

your eyes switch into night mode, as if they were cameras and begun to step outside the grassy area under your balcony towards the long trees aligning the main road you father had gotten built that connects to the long entrance gates to the french door entrance to your house’s lobby.

your one hand holds your heels, the same hand holding your jacket and the other clothing onto your phone that keeps ringing and you know it’s gonna wake the dogs up and you will start crying. so, the only option was to cut it or pick up.

you picked up.

“y/n? bro where you at?” you roll your eyes at kai’s shaky voice. “i’m alone, this is not fun.”

“stop being like this,” you grit, clutching your phone while tip toeing across the road while hiding behind the long trees. “you’re already dancing i know!” you whisper-yell and hear his snort.

“hurry up you weenie!” he yells, and you whisper a few curse words. “or your new bodyguard might come and get you.”

that makes you stand straight, eyes narrowing as if you’re staring kai down.

“how do you know that?” you ask, voice lowered.

“everyone at our uni knows it,” he laughs, “the tall guy who walked in fully dressed in a tux? can’t be the business majors, can it?”

“oh, shut it,” you whisper, growing closer to the gates while looking back and forth for anyone. “good thing my guards gone home, nothings stopping me from that drink tonight!”

“unless your dogs-“

“i will see you there!” you cut him off, leaning against the tree, hiding as if you were in an action movie you turn your head to the right.

you’re ten steps away from the iron gates, one step to your victory but that one step is cut in half when you see the gatekeeper sitting with eyes wide open. and you know, you know it’s the first time he does so anyways because every other time he’s dozing off.

with a pained smile you slide closer to the tree, successfully in a second having your back against the high cement walls with no suspicion.

your eyes land on the gate in a gate (a small one that mimics a prison, ironic) that’s latched open, you grin. eyes flickering between the gatekeeper and the gate, and just as the man snaps his head down. you’re suddenly shapeshifting into a snake and running out the door with no noise.

once you run out, you run as if your life depended on it. which it did, if your father found out about your early morning endeavors, you’re grounded for good.

and you can’t believe how he still can ground you in your mid-twenties, with a shake of your head you keep running and looking back from time to time before you find yourself in an alley.

your back leaned against the brick as you breathed heavily, chest going up and down as you swallowed the dryness. running a hand through your hair and wiping anything excess on your face before you lean down, throwing your heels before you slip your feet in them.

holding your phone out and texting kai that you’d be there in a few, without your car as you clasped on the ankle strap of your jimmy choo’s you hear a groan coming from your right.

you freeze midway of clasping the strap together, swallowing before comically looking to your right where the dark alley had begun to look even darker. you inhale a nervous breath before quickly slipping on your other heel, not wanting to spend a second here any longer as the groans become louder, and your eyes become wider.

and then you hear a full sentence, you know you’re in trouble. but that doesn’t scare you, what scares you is your father finding about this trouble.

“raise a hand and you won’t see the day of tomorrow.”

“…and it’s my time to leave,” you whisper, holding your phone tighter as you stood up. eyes sneakily looking at the alley as you slowly move towards the road with the aching ankle of yours.

but as you take another step, you hear the loud cry of someone that makes you freeze. but what solidified your death was when your phone rang in the midst of the after silence of the cry.

“who’s there?”

you freeze for what feels like hours and then snap to reality, hurriedly shutting your phone off and cursing kai’s name. you look back at the alley, swallowing with a pained expression before slowly beginning to creep away.

but it’s then when you hear a surge of footsteps filling your ears, your eyes widening, and you grip onto your dress before making a run.

“hey! get back here!”

“catch her!”

so, you run, you run as if your dogs are chasing you, as if your mother has found out what you’re doing late out at night dressed to get sick. or how your father would immediately blow up on you and the thought of getting into trouble, but that was on the last of your mind.

you’re running down the street, injured at the ankle, in your jimmy choo’s while a group of men run after you. you know they are holding weapons because you looked over your shoulder and it made you run even faster.

the cold wind slaps your face, makes your eyes watery and pushes your hair back as the road becomes downhill, your mouth begins to spew out curse words and screams that you hope make the men run away because you know only a god can save you from this.

“h-hey!” you scream, thinking you’d have a wise conversation with the group of guys who only seem to roar even louder and it’s at this point that your ankle begins to burn, and your eyes begin to tear up from the cold wind. “you don’t know who i am!”

“we don’t care!”

you cry out, “my father runs the mafia!”

“if your dad runs the mafia, my dad is tom cruise!” you hear one of them yell and you quicken your speed.

you frown as you run, “what the fuck!?”

“get her!”

the street gets darker and darker but with the semi-working streetlights, you’re able to make out stores and houses around you. neon signs of sketchy restaurants where they sell alcohol for a dollar (you obviously knew, because you tried), or small departmental stores lining the streets.

you’re running so fast, that a crowd of people don’t stop you. you push past them in an attempt to lose the men, but they seem to have found you no matter what, it’s then when you see a man walk out a local 7/11.

your first instinct is to wave, but when the man turns around. eyes on the ground, hand holding a white bag and not a care in the world.

you think you’re about to lose him, until it takes everything in you to scream. “hey!” loud enough for the man to turn around and when he does. you wish you never screamed; you wish you never sneaked out of your room.

because the last thing you expect on a friday night is to be caught by your bodyguard.

“i’m, i’ll just be going straight to sleep seonghwa!”

“have a goodnight, ma’am.”

“god no,” you whisper, half happy that you found him, and half scared shitless. “shit.”

as you’re nearing him, your body automatically begins to slow down. and once you do, you’re standing right in front of him. breathing heavily and swallowing as your throat dried.

“t-this is not how it looks like-“ you look back, seeing the men beginning to slow down as they approach you and him. “-i promise!”

“what’s going on?” he speaks and for the first time you hear him without his uptight vocabulary that doesn’t consist of ma’am’s or sir’s.

“i thought you were asleep?” he raises an eyebrow, and you look at him up and down, clad in a black hoodie with matching sweats. you think you like him better this way.

“i…i thought i was too,” you chuckle, humourlessly and awkwardly.

“hey!”

you two turn around at the loud yell and you take a step back, “i-it’s a long story-“ you swallow, coming to stand closer to him as seonghwa take a step forward. “-i’ll explain the rest later!”

seonghwa gives you a blank stare, raising an eyebrow and you just know he’s shooting you in his mind. “are you hurt?”

you blink, “huh?”

he looks back at the men, “are you hurt, ma’am?” and then looks at your blinking eyes.

you shake your head slowly, “no,” he then hands you the white bag he held prior, and you look at him with a frown. “…..are you doing what i’m thinking you’re about to do?”

you take the bag from, and he nods. “i’m doing exactly what you’re thinking.”

you grip the bag tighter, pulling your lips into a determined grin and raising your hands into fists to urge him on. “….we’re running right?”

he looks over his shoulder before snorting, “i’m going to go do my job.” he then points at you. “stay here.”

“you’re not on-“

“oi you two!” you snap your eyes at the men in front, hand on their waists and bored expressions on their faces. “if you’re done talking, get her here, we’ve got some business to finish!”

you blink, feeling your heartbeat take a sudden increase as you hold the bag tighter. “don’t worry about it ma’am, i can handle this.” with that he begins to walk towards them, and you panic when your eyes flash at the guns and knives they held.

as quick as your mouth opened to yell, it zipped even quicker when seonghwa’s back comes to blind you from those in front. you hear groans and curses being thrown at seonghwa who stares at them blankly, inhaling before lifting his hand up. motioning them to come forward with two of his fingers.

and then it felt like a blur when seonghwa raised his fist and smashed it in the man’s jaw, your mouth drops at the sight. instinctively holding your own jaw as if you felt the pain, eyes widening as you stare at the scene in front of you.

one vs at-least seven.

with the way seonghwa’s elbow jabs in their ribs, strong punches to their jaws and kicks to their stomach your mouth is left hung open. it felt as if you were watching a live action movie, maybe even a boxing match.

your eyes follow seonghwa’s every move, the way his eyes turn into slits. hair moving with every punch he makes, the groans from his mouth and the movement of his muscle. you can’t help but gawk at him.

from the way he rolled his hoodie up to his elbow, showcasing the ink he’s got that stops just before it goes above his elbow. swirls of art that you’re so entranced by that you totally blind side the fact that seonghwa’s yelling for you.

“ma’am!”

you quickly snap out of your thoughts and look for where you’re hearing his voice, once you do your eyes widen. “hey!” you yell, seeing seonghwa in a rear chokehold. two of the men holding him down while one of them begins to walk towards you.

you take a step back, gripping the bag to your chest with wide eyes while seonghwa yells at you from the back. “y-your shoes!”

you frown, holding the bag tighter as you yell back. “what shoes?! where!”

“your shoes! use them!”

“to hit him?!”

“yes!”

you give him a look, “my jimmy choo’s!?”

he nods and you stare at him with an unreadable face before he yells for you again, “you can buy more!”

you swallow, looking down at your shoes that you know you can’t buy more. but even so, you put the bag away, take your shoes off. hold the heel side up, raising both your hands up before yelling and running towards the herd.

barefoot, in a leather jacket and fighting some goons with heels was something straight out of a romcom. on a friday night, you expect yourself to be with your friends and not smacking heels into people’s chests.

“i’m so sorry, this is gonna hurt-“ you yank the heel down and hear a loud groan and it has you shivering. “i told you this will hurt!”

for a few minutes you keep doing what seonghwa has told you, heel after heel you’ve left them with wounds that ooze fresh blood and just the sight of it makes you grim.

you think you two are set to go but then the men begin to gather around you two in a circle, your back finds itself attached to seonghwa’s.

broken heels in hands, the ribbon design on them falling somewhere along with way whole the structure is completely damaged.

“now…” you inhale, swallowing as you stare at their angry faces. “what do we do now?”

“do you know how to fight?”

you pause, biting your lower lip in frustration. “no, i..never learned.”

he says nothing but stands straighter, “i’m going to pick you up,” your head snaps to him.

“what?” you whisper, eyeing the man standing in front of you. who, with his injuries still manages to stand.

“by the waist,” he continues, eyeing the others on his side. “use your feet to kick them while i spin you.”

“this is insane,” he hears you say and smiles a bit before replying, “this is what we do for living.”

“can’t we just run?” you ask, looking around the road to see ample amount of space to run.

“it’s not easy,” he replies, “if this gets to your father..that is.”

you turn around on instinct, “right.” and then glare at the men. “do it then, i’m sure we’ve both got places to be.”

he spares no second and turns you around, hooking his arms under your armpits before hoisting you up. “kick!” he yells, and you do as he says, eyes shut tight and legs kicking while he spins you around.

you’re so sure you hear a faded snort coming from seonghwa while you’re hitting arms and chests and faces that when he puts you down, he makes sure your jacket is still on and that your balance remains as you collapse in his arms.

when your eyes land on the ground, a sigh leaves your lips at the sight. hearing groans and curses being spewed while a few of them tried to drag themselves away, your eyes then snap to your shoes only to see them ruined.

your jaw drops and your first instinct is to go and grab them, but instead seonghwa snakes his arm around your waist and swoops you to his towering front. your hands fall flat against his chest, eyes widening at what he was doing that is until you realize he had his foot on a man’s hand.

the hand that was reaching for your ankle, you swallow and look up at seonghwa. “..we’re good, right?”

he looks down and your eyes immediately lock, staring into them directly for the first time and not only did it bring a sudden burst of butterflies in your stomach but made your heart stop for a quick second.

but that only lasts for a moment before he pulls away abruptly, “yes ma’am.” you nod slowly, eyes finding the ground.

you tip toe your way across the groaning bodies to grab into the broken pieces of your heels, and then turning around to see seonghwa waiting for you by the side.

you take a quick look at your surroundings before walking towards him, the cold cement road under your bare feet making you shiver. once you’re in front of him, he nods and quietly gestures you to follow him.

and you do, hugging your jacket around you tighter. you walk behind him, eyes on his taller and built frame. one hand holding the white bag, where you could spot redness on his knuckles while the other was tucked in his pocket.

“..i’m so sorry i got you involved into this,” you begin as your eyes catch a glimpse of the bruises on his knuckles.

“i thought you were asleep, ma’am.”

you sigh, closing your eyes before nodding. “i-i had to go to this party..” you mumble, “so i snuck out.”

“from the front gates?” he asks, tone normal and not accusatory of any sorts. “and past the dogs?”

you shake your head, “from the window actually…and past the dogs.”

he nods, impressed before his eyes find themselves staring at the ground. instinctively glancing at your feet and then it occurs to him, “you’re hurt, ma’am.” he whispers, eyeing the slight redness at your ankle and the cuts and dirt you’ve got wrapped around them.

you stare at your feet as you keep walking, “they don’t hurt actually,” you smile. “feels nice to walk bare feet on the cold ground.”

“we should sit down,” he urges, a slight panic in his tone. “you’re limping ma’am.”

you turn to look at him, eyes falling over the hair that hovers over his forehead. “stop calling me that.” you say, lowly as you keep your eyes fixated on him. “y/n, call me that at least when we’re alone.”

he says nothing but presses his lips in a line before looking ahead and pointing straight, “there’s a bench right there, we should at least get you seated.”

you sigh before nodding, quickly checking your phone for time and the messages from kai before putting it back into your pocket and following him.

you sit at a normal distance away from him, or more like he did. once you’re sat, your surroundings are a quiet bliss, the cold night wind and the makeshift roof of leaves above your head, it felt calming.

the night was one full of stars, you look down at your feet. watching the shadows being created by the streetlight that shines on you but especially on seonghwa. when you turn your face to look at him, half of his face is illuminated by the light while the other casts a darker shadow.

as the silence begins to heavy in, you decide to break it with a request you hope he agrees too. “please don’t tell my dad about this seonghwa,” your bite down on your lower lip. “he won’t let me out again.”

“why would he do that ma’am?” he responds, and you swallow. “i believe he should know, and it is my duty to document everything to him so-“

“can you stop with the unnecessary fancy words!” you cry out and turn to him. “you are not going to tell my father about any of this.”

“but m-“

you raise an eyebrow, “you’re not.”

“but why not?” he frowns, fiddling with the bag in his hand.

“because…” you start, eyes looking left and right. “because…you’re my friend, yeah!”

he gives you a quick stare, “but, ma’am i’m not all-“

you cut him off by scooting closer and placing an arm on his shoulder, with a eyebrow raise. “you are now my best friend.” you nod, “and as childish as this sounds, best friends don’t tell each other’s secrets to anyone right?”

he pauses to blink twice before nodding slowly and you smile, “good!” you pat his shoulder.

“so, we should consider this a deal-“ you bring your hand out for him to shake and he looks at you then at your hand accessorized in rings. “-right?”

he sighs audibly and you grin, knowing he’s given up. “thank you so much seonghwa!” with a quick assuring pat and a smile you pull back into silence that is until he speaks.

“y..you don’t have that party to go to?” he mumbles, eyes on the bag he held between his legs. you, pull your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them.

“it’s a little too late now,” you know your phone’s being ambushed by messages form kai mainly him begging, but you rather— can’t help but like this a little more.

he says nothing again and instead fiddles through his bag; your eyes follow his movements until they pause on what you think is ice cream.

he looks over at you and you lock eyes, “you must be hungry,” you tilt your head just a little for your hair to move with it. “..ice cream?”

he holds out a squished pack of ice cream which makes you raise an eyebrow, “it’s a little…deformed?” he squeaks, and you hide a smile before reaching out to take it from his hands.

“thank you seonghwa.” you mumble, and he smiles a little, then gives a small nod and it’s when you notice his hair falling over his eyes.

“your welcome, ma-“

“y/n.”

he looks at you and you mirror him, in fact, you change your position to face him. legs in a criss cross with your jacket being a makeshift blanket on them so that you don’t flash anything, anytime soon.

“my names y/n,” you repeat, taking the wrapper off the ice cream. “i’ve told this multiple times, and i’ll say it again. call me y/n when we’re both alone.”

he nods, “okay…” he hesitates, staring at you as if you were going to speak. but when you don’t, he finally says it even if it feels as if he’s struggling and you don’t know why. “y/n.”

you break out into a smile, “now that we are on first name basis,” you extend your hand out, as if pointing between him and you. “we should get to know each other better, right? for better…uhh-“

“relationship?”

you snap your fingers, “yes that! i’ll go first,”

he smiles, “of course.”

“hi, i’m y/n.” you begin, voice a tone lower to match the quietness. “and i’m currently in a uni? i go out at night because my father doesn’t let me in the day,” he snorts, and you smile. “i’m also! not as snobby as you think.”

“i’ve never thought of you as snobby ma’am,” he says, licking at the ice cream before continuing. “just…picky?”

you grin, “that i am or maybe i just have fine taste?” a round of chuckle leaves you two. “what about you, tell me about you seonghwa.”

“what do you want to know?”

“well, i just know the professional you-“ you pause to lick the ice cream, “the macho, mr smith style assassin! but what’s under all of that?” you wiggle your eyebrows. “a different story?”

he looks down with a smile as you watch him with a curious gaze, “i’m just a simple man doing a simple job.”

you raise an eyebrow, “simple job?” he nods, and you narrow your eyes. “i’ve never heard a simple man having a job at a mafia house?”

he bites down on his lower lip before shaking his head, “how’d you end up working for my father?” you ask, and he looks at the ice cream.

“your father actually met me when i was at my worst,” he begins, and you tilt your head.

“what?”

he lifts his head up to look right at you, “i escaped italy once…illegally, your father helped me out with it entirely.” you notice the way he smiles at that. “he became someone who gave me a shelter and in return i worked for him.”

“sounds heroic.” you whisper, an impressed smile on your face that it makes him laugh a little. “you escaped, why?”

you hear him inhale audibly and it makes you swallow before looking up at the sky, “you don’t have to tell me, that’s fine, somethings should be ke-“

“someone was out to kill me.”

your eyes widen, “what?!” your jaw hangs, processing everything that he’s saying. “h-how did you get away? i’ve heard once italian’s mark something to kill, they will.”

you scoot closer, “..how did you escape them?”

he looks at your wide curious eyes and before even thinking it through, he says it all. “i killed him.”

he watches your jaw drop at that and for a moment he thinks he’s fucked up, which rightfully so, but when you say something, it makes his eyes widen in surprise. “you killed,” you lean closer to whisper, “an italian mafia guy?”

you then bring your hands up to clap slowly with an impressed face, “how haven’t you gotten a movie made on you? that’s crazy, they should title it ‘mission impossible: italy chronicles!’ you’d give tom cruise a run for his money!”

“are you not surprised?” he asks, slightly confused at your enthusiasm over starring him in a movie and not the fact that he killed someone.

“hm?” you pause and then smile a little.

“are you not surprised or scared that i told you i just killed someone?” he repeats, eyeing your rather calm expression.

“seonghwa,” you inhale, shuffling with the jacket before looking at him. “i’ve grown up in this environment involuntarily…i’m used to the killing’s and everything that happens in a group because i have to be, i-i someday have to run this yeah? even if i don’t want to, i have to get used to it.”

“you don’t seem like you want to do anything with your dad’s job,” he murmurs, and you nod, looking down at the jacket as your hand comes to play with the sleeve. “not interested?”

“nope,” you sigh, “i’ve never associated myself with the type of work my dad does, never learnt how to fight or do anything that ties me to that world.”

you then glance at him, “and i don’t plan to anytime soon, but i know i have to one day whether i like it or not-“ you stand up abruptly and he watches you for a quick second. “maybe one day i’ll stop this mafia, who knows?”

he says nothing but nods, knowing the situation won’t change if he says anything. “thanks for the ice cream though,” you change the topic, holding the ice cream cone as if it were a wine glass.

imitating the great gatsby scene where leonardo holds the glass up with a smirk, “and i hope you keep the promise, best friend.” with a small smile, you gather your belongings before waving him a small bye.

but it’s not even a second later that he stops you, “y/n,” you look back, eyebrow raised slightly. “where are you going at this hour?”

“home.”

“you’re walking?” you nod, “but you’re hurt, i’ll get a tax- shit, taxis don’t work at this hour.” he stands up and you blink.

“i’ll walk you home,”

your hands immediately fly up in the air, “no! no! that’s fine, i can walk, it’s just a small walk back home and you’re probably really tired and hurt so i don-“

“-do you always talk this much?” he cuts you off and you smile sheepishly.

“yes,” you immediately respond, holding your jacket close to your chest. “you don’t?”

“they should keep you in a museum, you know?”

you grin, “they should, people will pay to see me, sounds fun.”

he looks down and lets out a breathy chuckle, “i’ll walk you home, it’s dark o-“

“you’re off job s-“

“ma’am.” you raise your eyebrow slightly, “a bodyguard is never off duty, so please, let me walk you home.”

you glance at him with a small smile, eyes searching his face as if he’d say something else but when he doesn’t, you nod. “okay then mr bodyguard, walk me home safely.”

when he stands up, the two of you begin walking back to your place. you barefoot, his knuckles bleeding, chasing, and fighting down goons all on a friday night. you turn to look at his side profile and feel warmth fill your gut before you look ahead.

your eyes then go to your bare feet before your eyes widen. “what about my jimmy choo’s?” you ask in the quiet street, a chill in the air as streetlights far away shine bright.

“i’m sure you can buy new ones, isn’t that right ma’am?”

“those were vintage..”

“they always have better ones!” he mumbles, giving you a quick glance.

“..they were my mom’s.”

“they what.”

“so,” you begin, eyeing your dark and scary mansions that had a red-light beam at the very top, on a dome-like roof. “how do we get back inside?”

you hear seonghwa inhale from beside you and you look at him with a raised eyebrow and hunched shoulders, his jacket wrapped around them tightly as you tried to keep yourself warm.

“do you know the safety system in your house?” he asks, eyes raking the mansion before he steps closer to quietly open the iron gates.

your eyes follow him, “…i think so?” you respond in a mumble. “dads never mentioned it to me explicitly but like i know what he’s up to like, half the time.”

“great,” he turns around, leaning on the gates. “you’re going to help us get in.” he nods, like the ones guys at parties do when they see someone from their element.

you raise an eyebrow, shifting your weight on one foot before speaking. “aren’t you supposed to my bodyguard?”

“and aren’t you supposed to be asleep?” he retorts and watches you pause.

you blink, then nod. “point.” and walk closer to him, squinting at your own house as if it were a mission to cross. eyes narrowing over the trimmed shrubbery with bright flowers that seemed to have blended with the night, adding onto the chilling appearance of your home.

“so according to my dad,” you put your face up against the iron gates, squishing your cheeks on the rails. “there’s a laser security system when you first enter the house- wait but how do you not know this!”

he shakes his head while still looking ahead, “that’s because i don’t stay here, i know the blueprints but i stay there-“ he points at the right of the mansion, and your eyes follow his finger. “at the guard quarters, the security system there is mild.”

“why?"

“because we are the security there.”

you nod with an impressed pout, “huh, no wonder i had never seen you around.”

“i’m your dad’s personal security, i’m usually in his office.” he whispers, leaning a little closer to you. “not around a lot.”

your eyes then land on the area you’ve never stepped a foot in. “is the bodyguard quarters cool?” it’s like a smaller version of your place, yet you spot more class in it with way its architecture looks despite it being rarely visible.

he tilts his head and chuckles a little, “cool? yes, it is.”

you then look at him with a frown, “why do you talk like this?” he pauses. “you sound like a professor more than a bodyguard, are you in cahoots’ with my prof?”

“no,” he answers quickly and hesitantly raises his hand to poke your forehead, your eyes widen, and you look at him who avoids your eyes immediately. “t-the security system, we need to get in before it’s too late.”

you hide a smile and nod before beginning to explain, “when we first enter, there’s a red laser security. once we pass that and go up the stairs, the hallways have small traps all around that can identify the smallest of sounds-“

“-and intruders.” he mumbles before tapping the front gates, “and have you been trained for this?”

“me?” you point at yourself, “absolutely not.”

you hear him sigh audibly, “what will you do when you have to learn all of this? to fight to plan and to be competent enough to take your father’s place?”

“i’ve got you here, so that should be fine.” you hum, and he blinks twice. “right? now let’s go in!”

you open the gates first, cautiously while he follows suit. it’s quiet, eerily quiet. you think everyone’s fallen asleep, so you turn to ask seonghwa what time it was, “it’s two.”

you nod and walk towards the front entrance; body bent a little to keep out of anyone’s hide and to hide in the shadows. while seonghwa follows without doing the unnecessary things you’re doing.

once you’re in front of the gates, you stop and fish into your jacket pocket in an attempt to find your spare keys. “we could just climb your window..”

“there’s no ladder there!” you whisper loudly, immediately clamping a hand on your mouth before quietly inserting the key in the lock and testing it slowly. “also, it’s more fun this way.”

once you hear the quiet and short and satisfying noise of the tall door unlocking, you look over your shoulder and gesture for seonghwa to follow you inside.

“my job was to walk you home ma’am,” he whispers, “i don’t think i should go in-“

but before he even finishes the sentence, you take a hole of his wrists and pull him in locking the door behind you immediately.

“i don’t think this is a good idea ma’am…” you hear him whisper and you look over your shoulder, scanning the foyer.

“why are you so scared? it’s not like my dad will kill you, geez,” you sigh, looking around the big plants that scare you because they look eerily similar to people in your house.

“if he recognizes m-“

your tongue hits the roof of your mouth at that, “he can’t even differentiate between me and my brother in the mornings, so don’t worry-“

before you even get the chance to finish your phrase, there’s a loud knock coming from the stairs right above the chandelier. the sound alone makes you and seonghwa panic and run to hide behind the large plant your mom begged to have.

“you know,” seonghwa inhales, swallowing as he looks around. “your dad can actually kill me.”

you click your tongue, again. “you’re scared for nothing.” and walk ahead but he stays, shaking his head because he knows what the circumstances can be.

when you look back to see him standing there looking at the ground, you sigh and walk back towards him. holding your hand out to him which makes him look at you, you nod towards your hand. “hold it.”

“w-why?” he asks, throat drying as he looks around the place.

you frown, “do you want my dad to find out?” he shakes his head. “so then, hold my hand and i’ll make sure no one finds out.”

you shake your hand at him with a grin that has him narrowing his eyes, but he knows he’s got no other option. because the only person who can save him from your father is you, and if that means you’ll take him under the wing for one day. he doesn’t mind.

so, with that, he hesitantly holds your hand, swallowing as you grip on it tightly before yanking him away.

he follows you down the hallway, holding your hand tighter with every step as his heartbeat begins to skip beats. eyes wandering the quiet rooms that otherwise are bright and loud, now terrify him with each step.

“ma’am, where’s the laser security?” he asks, and you pause right after, swallowing and pointing ahead.

“there,” you mumble, biting your lower lip as you take in the bright red lasers, bright neon red lines parallel to each other. “if we pass this, we’re good to go.”

he nods and then looks at you, “do you know how to do this?”

you grin, “of course,” as fast as you left his hand, he holds onto it faster. stopping you from going forward immediately.

“what’re you doing?!” he whispers, and you point at the lasers.

“passing the lasers? like how they do in the movies?” you say, tone matter-of-factly and he raises his eyebrow.

he pulls you back to him, your side hitting his towering front by surprise. “this isn’t the movies y/n.” you straighten up at the use of your name. “we can get killed, maybe not you, but i can.”

you look at him, “i don’t pay you enough to get killed.”

he smirks, “your father does.” before you retaliate, he puts a finger up to his lips, shushing you before holding your hand and walking on the other side. “follow me.”

he walks you around the stairs, completely away from the lasers— okay maybe not completely because you two did have to duck down quite a few times. but once that was left behind, you were surprised at his tactics.

impressed at his calm demeanor you follow right behind him, mouth shut and eyes on his back. your eyes then land on the hand he’s holding and smile.

“hey seo-“

in a matter of seconds, you’re pushed to the cold wall behind, you know it’s the wall with the way you hear frames rattle a bit. seonghwa’s larger hand covering your mouth as he leaned in, covering you fully and engulfing you in his warm scent while staring into your wide eyes with his sharper ones.

“don’t talk.” he says lowly, noticing the way your eyes blink. “got it?”

you nod repeatedly, eyes searching his face up close. from the bridge of his nose to his fuller lips and then back to his sharp eyes that look to your right. studying the shape of his eye and the long lashes that touch the area of cheek right under his eye, it makes you swallow just at the sight of him.

you don’t make a noise when he makes you move without ever physically holding you, though it’s difficult and makes you confused you follow him either way. the small tapping of your feet and his shoes make the faintest noise, which makes him afraid that you’ll get caught.

“can you walk a little less loudly?” he whispers in your ear and you, first, take one second to feel the shiver run down your spine and two, feel your heart skip a beat.

you then frown, bringing his hand down from your mouth and wrapping it around your waist. he immediately pulls back with wide eyes, “what’re you doing?” he whispers, and you take his other hand and put it around your waist.

“you want me to walk quietly, the only way i can do that if i walk on my tippy toes-“

“what does that gotta do with holding you!-“

“sssh!” you whisper and look everywhere before continuing, “if we match our rhythm, less sound and we won’t get caught.”

“that’s…”

you grin, “genius, i know-“

“-so stupid.”

you face drops, “eyy, come on, you spoilsport!” you whisper. “you just have to hold me, it’s not like that’s a crime!”

he leans in to be face-to-face with you, “in this house, it is.” and raises his eyebrow as you stare him down, long enough for him to sigh and you smile.

“come on, mr park!” you mumble and lean forward. “i’m not even that bad.”

you say before extending both your hands out to him, he pauses and sighs. thinking about all the shit he can get for doing this before throwing his head back, defeatedly placing his hand on yours which you quickly move to your waist.

“hold on tight,” you whisper before looking towards the hallway, “make a noise and we’re done for the night.”

“we’re gonna get caught,” he whispers halfway through, hands neatly wrapped around your waist as you two matched steps as if doing a partner dance at your father’s extravagant gala’s he likes to hold.

“you’re just scared.”

“no,” he immediately refutes, looking you into the eye. “i’m scared i’ll be fired or even worse, killed.”

or even worser, disappoint your father.

you shake your head, then raise your hand to his chest and pat it twice. “then i’ll save you.” as if that’ll make a difference he thinks.

he shakes his head, knowing exactly who will save who and who will get who in trouble. it’s not that he’s scared of dying, he’s scared of disappointing your father’s faith in him. the man who gave him everything he couldn’t ever get; he can’t jeopardize his trust.

but when he looks down at you, your eyebrows scrunched up as your eyes narrow and look ahead. he can’t help but think that if he protects you, he won’t disappoint your father. if he fulfils your every demand, he won’t be jeopardizing anything.

it’s what he hopes in the end.

he walks with you in silence, ears perking up at the slightest of a crack or squeak that makes him grip your dress tighter as if ready to push you behind him to take cover. but instead, none of that happens, the two of your make your way towards your room in peace.

the silence over you two was deafening and you did nothing to break it, that is until you’re in your room. back to your door and eyes on seonghwa, “so.” you whisper, watching his hesitation.

he nods slowly, “so..” he pauses. “i think i should go-“

“-at this time?” you cut him off, locking the door behind before walking to him and he instinctively backs up. “isn’t this more fun? just you and me alone in the room?”

you watch the way his eyes widen, and you bite back a smile, “m-ma’-“

“god, i was just joking.” you laughed, eyeing his surprised face and eyes that blinked repeatedly. “sit down,” you point at the couch behind him. “i’ll go get the first aid box.”

“that’s-“ he says out loud but immediately stops himself, “..that’s not necessary, ma’am.”

you ignore him and walk away towards your bathroom, leaving him standing alone in the middle of your room. he hesitates to move but does it anyway, eyes looking around the room and he realizes it’s the first time he’s stepped in the room of anyone he works for.

he didn’t expect it to be so soon or even at all, but he smiles a little and shakes his head. eyes searching the room and he notices the amount of colour patterned clothes you have hanging around; he expected your room to be big and uninviting but it’s the exact opposite.

warm, a little big and cozy. he smiles to himself as he begins to walk to the bookshelf just behind him, looking at the photo frames where you and your family were present. he lifts a hand to run his fingers on the shelf gently while looking at your childhood photos.

from where he sees his boss, your dad in one of the frames. holding a younger you, who was dressed in a pink tutu. he smiles again, only ever seeing his boss with a stoic face that rarely cracks a grin legitimately smile. he then looks at you, eyes shut as you grinned from ear to ear holding a little trophy.

he then looks at the frame behind it, where you stood alone. older now, maybe in your teens. he remembers this one, the dress specifically.

it was when he had joined newly, he was told you were his only daughter, and he couldn’t help but peek outside to see you— not like a creep but because everyone was looking their boss getting scolded by you.

it was a rare sight to see, but it’s one he remembers the most.

just when he’s about to look ahead, you come walking in. startling him in the way, he scrambles to his feet and looks at you as if he got caught stealing something.

you blink, “you can sit down!” you usher him over to the couch. eyes following him hurrying to take a seat before you join and sit in front of him on the table.

once he’s sat, you raise your eyebrows and extend both your hands. “hands.” you mumble in the emptiness of your room where only a lamp was lit in the far corner.

he looks at you and blinks twice, “ma’-“

“-y/n.”

“y-y/n,” he begins and you’re already reaching for his hands. “it’s fine you don’t have to do this-“

“-and why not?” you cut him off, scowling and he hesitantly pulls his hand back. but before that even happens, you pull his hands back into your lap. “you’re bleeding at your knuckles!”

he looks down at his hands, eyeing the dried blood on his hand and the way your hold on him is so gentle. the first he’s ever experience.

“i’m used to it.”

“well not on my watch,” and you begin to nurse his wound, whispering to yourself about how much blood’s been dripping and how he’s not worried about his wound. “as long as you’re my bodyguard, i don’t give you the permission to get hurt.”

he says nothing and you continue to nurse him until you realize the man doesn’t even make a noise, a squeak, or a hiss in pain. you look up with wide eyes, “is your hand numb?!”

“no?” he answers, looking at his hand and then at you.

“then why..” you scoot closer, “how are you not making a noise in pain?”

“i told you, i’m used to it.” he replies, and you narrow your eyes. he then leans forward to match your stance, narrowing his eyes he continues. “i’ve gotten worse injuries, this is nothing.”

“yeah? enlighten me.”

his features change with the way he smirks, “broke my ribs, both arms, one leg.” he pauses to recall, catching your expression while doing so. “number of concussions and bull-“

“okay okay!” you give up and he smiles a little. “i don’t care how bad you were injured,” you poke his hand, “an injury is an injury. and you’re hurting i just know-“

“-no i’m not.” he says, eyes still on you.

you smile, a little strained. “yeah?” you begin to wrap the bandage around his hand. “yes, you are.”

“no, i’m not.”

you wrap it tighter, “yes.”

“no.” he stares right back.

“yes.” you wrap it again, watching his lip twitch.

but he acts as if nothing hurts, “i’m still good,” he then points at his hand. “you can wrap it tighter.”

“gosh,” you whisper, knotting the bandage before giving him his hand back and falls back on the couch with a smirk.

but he’s quick to regain his posture, hands going down to grab your ankle and place it on his knee. “h-hey!” you yell but he immediately puts a hand to your mouth.

“you’re going to wake them up,” he whispers, and you nod slowly, then look at him holding your ankle. “guess who’s also injured.”

“unlike me,” he brings his hand down and hooks his finger on the box before dragging it closer to him. “you’re not used to this.”

he hums, “correct?” and looks at you as he separates the cotton.

“correct.”

he nods, “which also means you’ll be in pain, correct?”

“a lot.”

he raises an eyebrow, “yeah?”

“hm, i have low pain tolerance.” you mumble as he begins to nurse around your ankle, wincing whenever he dabs the cotton too harshly.

“how will you run your dad’s business if your tolerance is low?” he asks, gently brushing his fingers over your ankle.

you smile, “see…that’s not my plan,” and then hiss. “and if i were to one day…you’ll be there, right?”

he smiles stiffly, “of course, it’s my job to be your right-hand man after all.” he then places your leg down gently before holding the other one up.

“then you better be there for everything,” you say, “don’t miss anything, don’t die and absolutely do not get injured.”

“yes ma’am.”

silence then falls over you two, just him carefully holding your ankle while you watch his hands skillfully wrap the bandage, it makes you wonder just how many times he’s done this. occasionally finding yourself staring at his face when he asked a question rather than responding.

it makes you snort internally at how at first you thought seonghwa was never going to talk to you, be civil and extremely formal to now where he’s more comfortable and warming up.

“thank you.”

he lifts his head up slowly, “…for what?”

you point your finger at your feet, “for that and for beating the guys up and uh, sorry for eating your ice cream and! for dragging you in here!”

he smiles a little and you’ve come to like it when he smiles, even if that’s the only thing he’ll do. “your welcome, ma’am.”

“i had a question,” he suddenly asks, and you beam at his request. “go on!”

he then places your leg down gently before pointing behind you, towards the bookshelf. “that photo there,” you turn around to follow his finger. “with your father.”

“ah,” you hum, glancing at the photo and remembering the moment it was taken. “it was my first ballet recital,” your eyes fall on the pink tutu your dad gifted you. “way before this whole mafia thing started, my dad was a small lawyer.”

you turn to him, “you must know.” and he nods. “business was never good where he worked and we could at times, barely afford a dinner. sometimes i think this mafia thing started because he wanted to gift me a pink tutu.”

he snorts, looking at you with a fond stare. “how come?” he asks, “i heard he took a loan and then was fraudulently framed and jailed.”

you nod, “that’s right, he has a grudge against the insiders of the justice system. so, the only better thing he could think of was,” you smile, “to rule it.”

“and now he controls the insiders the way he wants,” seonghwa adds and you nod. “so, it really started because of your tutu?”

“a man can do anything,” you lean forward till your facing him. “to make his daughter happy.”

he tilts his head and raises his eyebrow, “then that same man can kill me, for his daughter.”

you mirror his expression impressively, “and that daughter can stop him.” you bite down on your lip, “hm?”

he smiles, the one where his teeth show and looks down to laugh a little. his hair falling over his eyes and it makes your heart skip a beat, “thank you.”

you turn your head to the side, “for?” you mumble. “putting you in danger?”

“for fixing my wounds and saving me from your dad, but.”

“but?” you raise your eyebrow and then to glance at him softly.

“but next time there’s a party,” he fiddles with the bandage before looking up. “ask me to join so this won’t happen again.”

“you got it.”

“do you like those seonghwa?”

you ask, pointing your finger at a wallet he’s been eyeing ever since he stepped into the store with you.

ever since the night he walked you home, the two of you have been looking eerily suspicious according to your father who narrowed his eyes the second you two walk in any room.

the eyes of your parents would watch your every move whenever seonghwa was in the room, and you let them. casually chatting with seonghwa in front of them even if he doesn’t respond, though you know he answers through his eyes.

or the fact that he follows you to your uni every day, waits outside or sits by you (always offers to keep his jacket on your seat so you don’t have to sit on anything dirty), opens the car doors for you, offers you his arm for walking purposes, stands with his back to you when you’re getting out of the car and even shares a word with kyle over pens.

which you know kyle likes involuntarily. sometimes he excuses himself and walks out halfway in class, which turns out he does to get the best table at the cafeteria.

where you two sit down and talk, well mostly just you. he listens to you blabber without interfering or objecting, pushing sandwiches your way whenever he thinks you need one more.

to when you were struggling to catch up to your teacher’s pace, hands focusing on notes while your eyes settled on the screen. but it felt as if you couldn’t understand anything and when panic arose in you, you hesitantly looked around for someone to give you notes.

raising your hand anxious but when no avail, you looked at seonghwa who already seemed to have raised his hand.

“seo-“

“professor,” his deep voice rang the classroom of four hundred people. “could you please repeat the section you just went over?”

your wide eyes staring at him as your heartbeat began to speed up, he who didn’t even spare you glance but instead looked down at his lap as if listening to the lecture. “oh, sure!”

or when he almost slapped a classmate of yours for taunting you and you had it physically pull seonghwa away from him.

or when you were getting ready for an event your father had forced you to where seonghwa would not look at you in the eye no matter what, except stand right beside you whenever you talked to anyone.

even if it meant staying through the boring small talks or forced arrange marriage offers thrown your way which, then, seonghwa would interfere in by standing in-front of you.

“unfortunately, we won’t accept any offers of arrange marriages for miss y/n.”

and if they were to put a hand on you, or even do the mere action of reaching it seonghwa would already tower over them and firmly tell them to back off.

“put your hands on her even once, we’ll have consequences to face.” and tap the others cheek, a little harshly.

all while you watched from behind his shoulder, making remarks to fire seonghwa up whenever he’d reject any offers (that your father told him to), “yeah! what he said!”

so now when you two sneakily snuck out right after your class to a mall, he’s been nothing but extremely protective of you. always walking behind you, hands coming to shield you if anyone’s about to remotely bump into you or have his hand on his holster at any given moment.

he turns around, “no ma’am, we’re here for you.” and you look around, eyeing the signature hermès pattern everywhere in the store.

colorful clothes adorning opposite walls and a large glass table with a display of wallets and watches and bracelets. salespeople standing with their hands in front of them with pleasant smiles on their faces, though you know most are directed towards seonghwa which makes you snort.

“you can buy anything you want seonghwa,” and before he opens his mouth, you raise your hand. “i’m paying.”

he shakes his head immediately and frantically, looking around the expensive store before inhaling. “that’s alright ma’am,” he taps his watch, “we should get going before it’s too late.”

with that he walks away, leaving you standing with a grin. you look around the chic store, making eye contact with a salesperson before tapping on the wallet and nodding. you repeat the action every time you spot him staring at an item for too long.

once you’re done, he carries your bags in both his hands. sunglasses on and walking back to your car while you stare at his back with a smirk before walking towards him.

he opens the car door for you, you walk closer until you’re right in front of him. “thank you seonghwa.” he smiles before slowly getting back in the car and driving off.

“y/n,”

the blanket of silence that falls over the entire living room at the sound of your father’s voice sends a chill down your spine, making you shift in your seat entirely.

“yes, dad.”

you look up, eyes falling on the addressed man raising his eyebrow as his one leg is on top of the other. dressed in the finest of expensive fabrics, a well-trimmed beard and two stripes of grey in his hair that he calls a ‘fashion statement’ after watching the housewives of beverly hills.

you’ve come to take him as a joke, but when he uses that tone, you know it’s not your father speaking but in fact the man who runs a whole intel of rings.

“where were you last week, friday,” you chew on your inner lip, eyes on your lap eyeing the neat manicure before answering. “at night specifically.”

“i-in my room dad,” there’s a tremble in your voice that he catches on quickly, he looks up and turns his head to the side. staring at seonghwa who looked straight, never making eye contact with anyone.

“seonghwa,”

the man stiffens upon his name, standing tall before bending at his waist. “yes, sir.”

“where was y/n?” he asks the same question and you turn to look at seonghwa, praying internally that he doesn’t spill the beans because you’d be in a lot of trouble.

“i’-“

“dad!” you quickly cut seonghwa off, “how would seonghwa know, he wasn’t even here on that day! i gave him an earl-“

the hand your father lifts is enough to tell you that he isn’t buying your bullshit, he’s never, even if you’ve tried to make him. he then points at your feet, and you can’t help the way your eyes widen, “why are there cuts on your feet?”

you quickly scramble to give a response, “i was with kai at the sch-“

“y/n.”

you sigh, defeated and lazily staring at your father. “seonghwa, narrate what happened during that day.”

you don’t give seonghwa a look or stare but know that he’ll tell the truth, under the eyes of your father the truth will always come out. it felt as if it were court, and everyone was giving testimonies to send you to jail.

“ma’am was getting late night snacks down the street,” you freeze at his answer, the slight wavering of his tone that you know your dad didn’t catch, but you did. “when a group of wannabes chased her until she ran into me, i quickly fought them away with the help of ma’am and we made it out safely.”

“safely?” you father repeats, eyeing the faint marks around your feet and looks at seonghwa with a glare that’s only ever terrified you. especially on report card days. “i told you, y/n shouldn’t be hur-“

“but he hurt himself too!” you butt in, eyes wide and hands in the air. “he was just trying to protect me, we— he came up with a plan on spot and if it weren’t for him, dad i’d be more injured!”

“this is about you y/n!” you dad yells, eyebrows pulled together in a scowl. “you are my heir not seonghwa, you are supposed to be protected twenty-four seven!”

“there’s already conflicts building in neighboring groups, and i don’t want you to get hurt.”

he then stands up and you follow, immediately getting on your feet and staring in the eyes of your father while also sharing glances with seonghwa who stood with an emotionless face.

“if this happens again,” he takes a step forward and you swallow. “i won’t be as nice as i am.”

you nod shakily, “i-it won’t happen again!”

“seonghwa.”

“yes, sir.”

“find out who those wannabes were,” he nods, “and prepare a lesson of defense for y/n, use the back grounds.”

seonghwa immediately bows, “i’ll prepare one right away.”

“and you,” you straighten up, eyes blinking repeatedly at your dad who shakes his head. “i don’t want a single scar on you, we’ll host a gala soon. do not cause trouble, understood?”

you look down and nod, “yes, dad.”

hearing the footsteps fade away, you finally lift your head to look towards seonghwa. who stood with his hands behind his back, eyes straight and in a well fitted tux.

“ma’am.”

“why’d you lie?” you ask, hearing your voice echo the four walls. taking small steps on the carpet you walk closer to him, stopping as the only thing dividing you from him was the couch.

he stays still as if he heard nothing, so you ask him again. “why did you lie, seonghwa?”

he fidgets slightly before looking over his shoulder and then back at you, “i’m your best friend, isn’t that, right?” hesitance in his stance and tone.

you pause to take in what he said then bream out into a grin that makes your eyes curl into crescents. “i knew!” you gasp, “i could trust you!” you yell but he’s quick to put a finger on his lips to shush you.

jumping in your spot you swiftly lift your leg on the couch, lifting yourself up to wrap your arms around seonghwa’s shoulder and pulling him into an embrace. “you’re the bestest friend seonghwa!”

he stiffens up at the touch, eyes widened slightly and chest pounding.

“if i was your boss,” you pull back, not looking at his expression before announcing loudly while snapping your fingers. “immediate pay raise!”

“you are my boss.”

your hands then land on his shoulder, patting them as you held an expression of dramatic admiration. “i knew i could trust you,” you pat his shoulders before standing straight.

“now…i will be busy for the next two hours and you can-“ you swiftly glance at the clock before looking back at him. “-have a break!”

but before you can move, fidget or maybe even breathe properly seonghwa’s hand comes to grab your wrist, gently but firmly.

“where do you think you’re going?” you stop, looking around the room before staring at your wrist before looking at his unmoving figure.

“me and kai,” you begin, “project.”

he leans his free hand on the couch, leaning in until his face is right in-front of yours. “your project can wait; your father gave you something else to do.”

you squint your eyes, lifting your other hand up to his face. where you extend your forefinger out and poke it in the middle of his black glasses, pulling them down just a little to reveal his eyes.

“no.”

he smiles, not the nice kind. “or do you want me to call your father?”

you shake your head, narrowing your eyes even more as you suck in a breath. “you wouldn’t.”

he smirks, “oh i would, and i don’t think he’d like that very much, would he?” his smirk expands more, knowing he hit a mark he pushes his glasses back on before leaning back to his straighter stance.

letting go of your hand, he uses the same hand he held you by to point towards your right. “now,” he says, a muse to his tone. “off we go to your first lesson.”

“seonghwa,” you sing.

“seong! hwa!”

“hwa!”

“seong-seo-“

“if you think this will distract me from letting you go,” seonghwa turns around, eyeing your frowning face. “then you’re absolutely wrong.”

“we’re going to the quarters and you’re doing the training,” he bends at his waist and tilts his head, eyeing you as if expecting a yes.

“fine.” you grumble out, making a distasteful expression before following him inside the bodyguard quarters he mentioned the other day. stomping behind him purposely so he’d hear but he turns a blind eye to it.

in fact, he pays no attention to your whining about not wanting to train while putting out some bogus explanations which he does not buy one bit until you’re both inside the quarters.

which to your surprise look nothing like what you had imagined, you thought it’d perhaps be dark and cold and dull but it’s quite…the same as your place. straight out of a magazine quite literally, your eyes fall over the lobby where couches were planted as if they were delivered just yesterday.

“do you guys even use the couches?” you ask, seeing how there’s not a bump or a trace of a body sitting on the couch. “or..anything here at all?”

he looks over his shoulder before shrugging, “we only use it if the police ever come,“ you hum. “otherwise, this is just a set. wait till you see the backside, that’s the one we really use.”

you nod, mindlessly following behind him while your eyes wander over each corner. as you walk in further with him, the hallway gets darker and darker. from the bourgeoise 90’s lobby to an almost underground ring type area.

you would’ve mistaken it as a professional underground ring, with the boxing rings to your left and equipment with a suspicious number of doors to your right it feels like a movie set.

you had never been exposed to this side of your dad’s business though you knew everything about it, seeing it in person makes a chill run down your body. feeling unsettled at hearing live echoes and yells coming from the boxing rings.

which is why you stick close to seonghwa, looking over his shoulder as you walked. “is this place, okay?”

he nods without looking at you and you glance over at other guards bowing at you, you smiled awkwardly and waved your hands asking them to stop non-verbally.

“you can’t tell them they don’t have to bow,” you whisper to seonghwa, and he chuckles quietly.

“you’re the boss daughter, our heir.” he suddenly stops to look back and you stare right back at him. “we bow to you because we respect you.”

“but like,” you look around and huddle closer. “what if i don’t want it?”

he raises his eyebrows at that, staring at you with narrowed eyes. “respect? you don’t want the respect?”

you click your tongue, “no!” and then point at everyone who still are bowing. “like bowing, makes me feel older heh,” you grin, and he scoffs.

without saying anything further, he steps to the right before opening a door. standing back before asking you to go in but you stop. “aren’t you the bodyguard? you go firs-“

he cuts you off by walking in and you follow right behind and closing the door, “don’t look at anyone, don’t talk to anyone. keep following me.”

“why not?” you question, a sheepish smile on your face because you know it annoyed him.

“because you’ll get distracted.” he turns around and you’re already a few steps behind him, eyeing the poster pinned to the wall with your hands behind your back and bending at your waist.

“ma’am.” he calls out with a sigh, and you turn your head to him, “ma’am, we’l-“

“ma’am who?!”

“fuck,” seonghwa whispers at the way your eyes widen at the new voice that yelled.

“who was that?”

“no one, let’s get into the room qui-“

“not so fast!” seonghwa sees your eyes move from him to behind him and he instantly regrets it. cursing under his breath he turns around to see a group he specifically wanted you to ignore.

“oh. my. god, seonghwa!” you walk closer towards him but it’s almost like he knew you were, he held his hand up behind him to stop you.

“why are you at work this early?” you frown, taking small steps towards him.

“boss called me in,” you hear him say, “now leave the room, i’ve got some work to-“

but before he can finish his sentence, he’s shoved off to the side revealing three men standing with their eyes widened.

“oh.”

you blink and they blink, on sync.

you take a step forward; they take one back.

“hi,” your voice dropping to a whisper, raising your hand, and doing a little wave while seonghwa gets his balance back only to be shoved back.

“you’re the boss’s daughter!?”

you nod, shakily and in a split second the three men are bowing at you. you chuckle awkwardly before looking at seonghwa who rubs his forehead and sighs.

“oh my god,” the light-purple haired man begins to walk to you but not before seonghwa holds him back by the collars. “h-hey!”

“i told you wooyoung, don’t.”

“why not!” you beamed, “hi wooyoung, i’m y/n its very nice to meet yo-“

“she said my name,” and wooyoung collapses onto the rest two.

“h-hi, i’m yeosang,” the blond man pointed at himself, and you smiled, and then he points at the one with cerulean haired man. “and he’s hongjoong.”

hongjoong who’s eyes widen at the introduction immediately holds wooyoung up, “we are very grateful to serve you.” and bow in a sync, at the perfect height.

you look at seonghwa who raises his eyebrow at you and then at the trio, “it’s nice to meet you too and please-“

“she said please,”

“wooyoung.” seonghwa hissed, voice low and demanding and it made you swallow.

“sorry, sorry!”

“hi y/n?” wooyoung steps forward extending his hand out for you to take. “can we call you that?”

you take his hand and shake it, “of course you can!”

“she shook my hand, oh my gosh.”

“that’s it.” seonghwa swoops in to pull wooyoung back and motioning for you to join him inside, never putting a hand on you.

the trio stood in a line as you walked past them with a grin, they all returned, especially wooyoung who you seem to fancy.

once the door’s closed behind you, you’re welcomed to a semi-broken-down core of a practice area. boxing equipment laying around with faded colours of red and blue gloves as well as dumbbells that were a funky neon green.

“your friends are nice.”

“don’t like them too much.” he mutters, and you look back at the door, “don’t befriend them either.”

“why-“

he looks back and you stop midway, “training?”

you blink and nod, not pressing anything further seeing his expression. “yeah.”

“hit once on the side.”

“like that?”

“no.”

you sigh, letting your shoulders slump and you turn to look at him. you’ve been doing this for an hour and a half straight, you’re sure its lunch time but you don’t dare remind him. especially when he’s got that frown stuck on his face since the very beginning.

tux off and only in a white shirt whose sleeves are rolled to his elbows, he’s been constantly demanding you to punch or kick a certain way. even if it’s correct, he asks you to do it his way because-

“it’s my way or the highway here.”

and you’d use the dad card on him.

“wait till dad finds out about this.”

to which he smugly replies to, “hm, he won’t come to save you.”

which true, and you hated how aggravating it was.

you had to do this class repeatedly as your dad warned you off the dangers, that were currently ongoing the world you lived in, where you were an easy target.

“do five more sets and we’ll call it a break.” your eyes must be glimmering for seonghwa to take note off and shake his head, coming to walk behind the long red coloured punching bag.

gripping his slim fingers around it he looks at you and then nods, “five more.” and if it weren’t for your brain to be completely blinded by the idea of not doing this anymore, you would’ve noticed the way seonghwa looked at you.

or more how you looked at seonghwa, with that white shirt rolled to his elbows, how could you not ogle him up and down? not only does it make you smirk in between the lessons but also makes you want to slow time down even more than it already was.

when he taps the bag, you snap back to reality and nod, bringing your gloved clad hands up to your chest. standing in the way he’s taught you (for ten minutes) before throwing a punch at the bag, which makes it jiggle back.

“again,” seonghwa sighs, the disappointed look on his face making you clench your fists tighter. “hit it right where my hand is.”

and you do, hit it where he told you but he’s just not happy. with the way his face remains the same, where his eyebrows are scrunched together with a tick in his jaw.

even if you wanted to say something, you stopped yourself before throwing a punch again. but this time his lips leave a small ‘tch’ sound that makes you grow irritated.

“what is it?” you finally ask, hands on your waist and weight on your one foot. “is it the way i’m not hitting to your satisfaction?”

“exactly that.” he responds, walking around the bag before coming to stand in front of you. hands crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face, “i want you to copy what i’m asking you to.”

“but i am doing what you asked me to!”

he sighs, running a hand through his black hair while you stood with an eyebrow raised. he glanced at you and then shakes his head slightly, “watch how i do it and then repeat, okay?”

before he turns around, looking at you to make sure you’re watching before standing in his position. fists to his chest, eyes narrowed and be throws a punch that’s so loud that the hit echoes the entire room twice.

you stare at him blankly, hands by your aide and eyes blinking repeatedly as he hits the bag one more time and your jaw drops. a slow motion of him punching the bag replays in front of your eyes repeatedly until he snaps his finger at you and asks you to stand properly.

but again, you don’t even stand properly to his level that he comes to stand behind you. you feel his towering front to your back, with the warmth and the slight smell of perfume and the mix of sweat.

his breath now fanning down your neck and you swallow, “now what?” you say, voice turning into a whisper automatically as your heartbeat begins to ring in your ear.

he raises his hands to your waist, hovering his hands beside it and never not touching it. that’s before he inhales sharply and quietly asks, “can i hold onto you?” his low tone making you shiver.

you swallow before nodding and then you feel his larger hands come to settle on the either side of you. you inhale sharply as he holds your hips gently and moves you into the correct position then when you thought it was over, his hands lift to hold into your forearms.

“i’ll guide you,” he mumbles before clearing his throat and you nod. “watch and learn.”

he then moves his hand the way he would punch, with every action his chest hits your back and your heartbeat skips beats. he does the same in silence a few more times before stepping back, “try it yourself.”

and you do, swallowing first and then hitting the punching bag with the exact amount of force seonghwa wants. and if it were not for him to stand behind you, you would’ve definitely seen the corner of his lip perking up into a smirk before he finally dismisses you.

with a loud exhale you plop onto the ground with a noise that he smiles at, staring you down while he stands beside you. “i think i liked the heels better for defense, don’t you think?”

he snorts, placing his hands in his pocket before bending at his waist. “if you’re okay with destroying your jimmy cho-“

“never mind.” you glare, a small pout forming on your lips, and you look the other way. body laying like a starfish that he can’t help but find endearing but before he thinks into it more, he excuses himself to walk out.

you lift your head up on your elbow and watch him leave, one eyebrow raised and lips forming into an ‘o’ as if you’d whistle while staring at his brooding back and broad shoulders.

once the door’s closed you find yourself looking at the lord and new posters stuck on each other on the walls, some ripped while others faded with years.

you let out a sigh of relief for the first time since you walked in here, with the tension between you and seonghwa, the lingering hot stares, the subtly touches over the span of months you’ve been with him has you waking up at nights.

at first maybe you thought it was some weird crush you had on him, which got brutally debunked by your friend kai. who you texted and called during the nights, where he’d yell at you for waking him up and then give you the sweetest advice the other second.

“kai, what if he doesn’t like me back?”

“you gotta ask him that yourself,” you’d hear him yawn, “there’s a lot of reasons for him to say no even if he likes you, y’know?”

“like what?”

“your godamn father.”

right.

because you can’t do anything in this house if you don’t have his permission. that’s how it has been growing up, aside from the luxurious provided to you (which you were grateful for), you were never allowed to hang out with anyone at your school or outside.

the only person your dad trusted (borderline not) was kai, other than that, you were sheltered and deprived of the interaction you wanted. to date, to smoke perhaps or do things your once teenager heart wanted.

which now meant, feeling your heartbeat skip or beat way too much when you’re around seonghwa or have butterflies in your stomach when he’d do the slightest of actions to make sure you’re safe.

whether it be him giving you his number so that he’d be able to join you in your next sneak out where he breaks his forefront with you. chugging down soda drinks or heavily spiced noodles to eating flavored ice cones where your tongues would get colored.

so that ‘crush’ isn’t exactly a crush anymore, as much as you hoped it didn’t progress mu-

“y/n?”

you snap out into reality when you hear your name but want to fall back into it when you realize his face is right in front of yours.

“hi,” you whisper and watch his lips twist into a smile.

“hi y/n,” his voice suddenly falls deaf on your ears, “let’s practice again, okay?”

you’re blinking again and again, and he watches with a smile before snapping his fingers in front of your face, “y-yeah, practice, let’s do that.”

“are you okay?” he asks, eyeing your widened eyes with soft eyes. he leans in closer, close enough for his nose to be just, just touch yours. “you’re breathing quite heavily.”

“i’m good!” you stand up suddenly, looking everywhere but him. “we, uh, we should get back to practice!”

which went awfully if it meant you staring at seonghwa half the time and blanking out. every minute you spend with him just confirms kai’s accusations at you about how you liked seonghwa.

and if it weren’t for him to be so damn close to you all the time, maybe you wouldn’t have felt this way. but now, you aren’t even paying attention to what he’s saying. just being aware of him beside you, his hands lifting to point and suddenly your attention goes to that.

the more you followed his hands, the sooner you realize there’s something burning at your elbow. which takes you a second to realize and when you do, you’re hissing in pain loudly.

loud enough for him to immediately hold the punching bag straight, hurriedly reach for your arm gently and asking, “are you alright?” he soft checks your arm as you twist your face into one of intense pain.

“i…can’t move my arm.”

“i told you to pay attention! look at you now, you’re all hurt!”

you don’t register the next few moments, because one second, he's yelling at you about how you’re hurt and not paying attention. the other he’s sat you down, kneeling in front of you while wrapping a bandage around your elbow.

“you have to start being careful y/n.”

you hum, staring at his face that’s full of worry and it makes your insides do summersaults.

“but then who’d do this for me?”

he can’t help but breathe through his nose at that, biting back a smile before he swaps it back to his frowning face. “ow!”

he sighs audibly, staring at your elbow that’s wrapped in white before looking at you in the eye.

“let’s call it a day then hm?” he mumbles, and you nod slowly, he then reaches beside him to pull out a towel that he lifts up to your face and wipes the sweat off.

“hey seonghwa,” you whisper, loud enough for him to hear and hum an answer. “…you need to stop doing this,”

his eyes flicker to you as he continues to pat away at your face, “stop doing what?”

“playing with my heart like that.”

“y/n, no.”

“hwa, yes.”

“no!”

you look at him with a deadpan, raising an eyebrow and folding your arms over your chest.

you, seonghwa and the trio who’s currently yelling really loudly behind you two came to the store, right before the gala. more like you forcing them all to get out and look good for the gala even if they all said no, you knew they wanted to go.

and curse that stupid rule of bodyguards not being family, you were inviting them, nonetheless. a little scolding from your dad wasn’t something you minded, so even after their ‘attempts’ to stop you, you were successful in getting them all out to the store.

and currently, unsuccessful in getting seonghwa to try an outfit.

“yes!” you whisper loudly, shoving a blazer towards seonghwa and pushing him in the changing rooms.

“y/n, i can’t be wearing this!” he argues back, looking left and right in the rather empty changing room hallways. “..and we can’t be seen like this!”

“like what?” you ask with a playful smile before taking a step closer to him, in the slim hallways. “like this?” you raise your hand and place it on his forearm. “or like this?”

he swallows before looking away towards the end, “your dad’s men are here, if they see us like this we’d be in big trouble.”

you look to where he’s looking, narrowing your eyes to look for anyone but there’s not a soul standing there. with a roll of your eyes, “i’m not kidding,” he lowers his voice to a whisper, “y/n!”

“fine then, my dad’s men are here, right?” you move to the side and open the changing room doors, “then let’s give them a show.”

panic immediately rushes to his face as you push him inside the changing rooms, to the point his back is up against the mirror. “m-ma’am we can be fo-“

“-you talk so much, don’t you?” you say, eyebrows knitting together. “now wear this and come out,” before he opens his mouth you continue again. “this is an order.”

you lean your face closer to his, close enough that you can smell his perfume and it makes your stomach churn. his eyes now wide and staring at you, blinking repeatedly while you search his face.

taking your time to marvel at his face, a small smirk appears on your lips that he finds himself looking at. your glittered lips, courtesy to that lip-gloss he asked to carry in his pocket looking at him with a pout.

“y-y/n.”

your eyes flicker to his, a hint of tease in your eyes you raise your brow slightly. and without a single thought behind your eyes or your mind, you end up blurting something that shows instant regret on your face.

“are you married?”

“what?” his face drops and you curse under your breath.

“no like,” you bite down on your lips, “i just…can’t be seen romancing a taken man, you know, my reputation and all?” you blink.

he laughs, a loud laugh that has you stopping in your tracks to look at him. his head falls on you, forehead leaning on your shoulder as his shoulders shake while laughing and you stay still.

with blood shooting up to your cheeks, a shy smile on your face he looks up. “no,”

“no what?” you ask, paying no attention to the way he looks at you because you’re so lost in the way your heartbeat rings in your ear.

“i’m not married.” he mumbles, taking a step forward and you take one back until you’re standing outside the changing rooms.

“single.” he clicks his tongue and with a wink closes the curtains on you.

you stay still for a few seconds, just staring at the curtain until your lips twist into a smile, the one where you bite down on your lower lip.

you then turn around, the smile still on your face and stomach fluttering with butterflies before your eyes set on where seonghwa was pointing at.

“your dad’s men are here!”

the smile you had is quickly replaced by a small frown, fishing your phone out you text you dad wondering just what the fuck is he doing sending his private men when you have your bodyguards with you.

y/n, 2:35pm

dad did you send

someone to keep an

eye on me?

y/n, 2:37pm

i see the seen receipts

u can respond

dad, 2:40pm

come home and we will talk.

with an annoyed sigh you put your phone back in your pocket and then turn around just in time for seonghwa to pull open the curtains.

“oh,” you whisper, standing frozen with your hand still at your back pocket and eyes widening as you look at him up and down.

“how is it?” he asks, fiddling with the cuffs as he straightens the fabric down.

“good…” you mumble, your eyes doing that thing where you look at him up and down slowly as if to save the image in your mind. “great actually…y-yeah,” you nod repeatedly before looking away to whisper an “oh my gosh.”

“is the colour good?“ he asks, completely and utterly oblivious to the way you’re staring at him and if he were to notice he didn’t mention anything. “don’t you think you’re spending too much?”

and how can you not look at him, men in tuxedo’s were always your weakness but what was even worse was when they looked so good in it. “gosh,” you whisper to yourself as you look away and internally yell at yourself to get it together.

“we’ll get this one!” you nod repeatedly, eyes away from him and turning around to walk to the cashier

“y/n, in no way you’re paying.” you grin hearing the four repeat the same thing to you repeatedly.

seonghwa then comes to stand right behind you causing you to look up at him, “yes?”

“y/n, this all is really expensive-“ he looks at the faces of the rest, “we could’ve just gotten the suits from the nearby shop.”

“but i don’t like the fabric they have there.” you retort back with a growing smile; you then raise your hand to pat his shoulder. “so don’t worry.”

when you turn around to tap your card, you don’t look at the total cost that is until seonghwa decides to angrily whisper in your ear.

“four full suits,” he grits as he looks at the price. “that’s almost 30k!”

“really?” you gasp as you look at the design on your card, void of any surprise.

he nods, “i told you we shouldn’t-“

“-i thought it was expensive.”

you look over your shoulder to watch his face drop with a soft smile before tapping the card, hearing the beep and picking your bags up.

“where to next?” you turn to look at them, blinking twice. “food?”

“n-no!”

“this is where you’re meeting your friend?” seonghwa asks from beside you and you turn to him with a grin that he squints his eyes at.

“what friend?”

he looks in front of him when you nod, a strange looking diner with broken neon lights and a welcome sign full of rust.

“it’s a sweet little diner!”

he thinks it’s anything but sweet, in fact, it looks terrifying and in an extremely sketchy area where the only people visible are older ladies that resemble babushkas.

he’s glad he has his gun right up in inner his chest pocket, ready to pull it out whenever he sees anyone except you glare at him to put it back.

“table for three please!” he hears you ask the lady inside, who gives him a good look before looking back at you.

his eyes look all around at the wallpaper that he’s sure he can find at his grandma’s place.

“there’s only table for two left,” the raspy, deep, and scratchy voice of hers tickles your ears.

it’s then when seonghwa leans near your ear, “ma’am, this place seems way too sketchy-“ he glances at the lady glaring at him. “i-i don’t think we should stay he-“

“we’ll take that one then!”

the lady in front hums with disdain, “married?” she asks, writing something up in her old rust colored diary.

both of you stop blink and exhale on sync.

"no.” he answers.

“yes.” you answer, giving him a look and a tight-lipped smile. “only recently actually! right honey?” you exclaim, holding his forearm and leaning on him that makes him stop in his tracks.

seonghwa stares at you with wide eyes, ready to explain to you how this is not right but your glare has him nodding.

“that’s right!” you kick his shin, “b-baby!”

you smile, eyes curling into upwards crescents as the lady nods. “okay, you can go in.”

once you’re sat, you wiggle your eyebrows at an emotionless seonghwa. leaning forward to pat his shoulder, “how are you honey?” you tease, “do you need water?”

“y/n.”

“what?” you ask, hiding back a smile when the waitress (aka the lady in the front) walks by you two with menus. “loosen up hwa!”

“this is a really stupid idea.”

you shake your head and click your tongue, “not an idea,” you correct him. “but a date.”

that seems to set him off, “y/n if anyone sees us here, we-“

“i bet you can’t even order.” you interrupt him.

he frowns, “yes i can.”

you lift an eyebrow up, “yeah?” he nods, and you raise your hand to call over the waitress. “do it then.”

he gives you a look when he realizes what you’re doing and shakes his head, sighing as the waitress comes over, chewing her gum obnoxiously. “can we have two plates of pasta?”

“there’s like thirteen choices of pasta in our menu,” the waitress retorts back and you bite back a laugh. “chose one mister, make our lives easier.”

his gaze flickers to yours for a brief moment to see you cupping your mouth, “okay..” he sighs, “two plates of carbonara-“

“that’s not on the menu.”

you choke on the water you had been drinking and heat him sigh out loudly, “just…just give us your best dish.”

“you want it as a pasta?”

“yes!” you answer instead of him, “just please bring us anything, we’re really hungry!”

“you guys are weird.” she says, and you nod.

“look who’s talking,“ seonghwa mumbles, a bit too loudly, wanting a glare from the waitress and a snort from you.

“where have you dragged me y/n.”

“to fun.” you answer, leaning back while shooting him a finger gun.

fun was surely delivered, especially when the waitress accidentally dropped the sauce on seonghwa’s sleeves and mumbled a “deserved it.”

or maybe how you two were left utterly surprised at how good the dish was, both your eyes widening dramatically. mumbling how good it was and how he underestimated and judged it before he had anything from here.

and the fun only exceeding when in the middle of your dinner date, the restaurant seemed to play some music that worked like crack on you two. you standing up mid-way of drinking a cola and joining the five others dancing in the middle.

the five others being, two staff members, one chef and another customer.

while seonghwa sat and ate his pasta, watching you from his seat with a smirk. eyes on your every move and it felt like the time had slowed down for him, the restaurants dark nature and red and yellow lights framed you perfectly in his eyes.

he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, seeing how you’d bite your lips and how your hands were in the air while you tried to mumble along the song.

he didn’t realize how long he had been looking at you that he didn’t notice you calling out for him, which he did shook his head at first but joined, nevertheless.

surpassing you by shaking his hips and leaving the others wide mouthed, all while his hands were on your waist, as if reminding everyone to not mess with you while you moved along the beat. he looked like the terrifyingly handsome man who was possessive over you, you liked that agenda.

before you two left, the waitress brought over a box of rings which made you squeal. “choose one for yourselves!” and then she explained how it was a side business and you immediately chose two.

One black and the other purple, simply because the two had the same design just different colors. One for seonghwa and the other for you.

“you two should put it on here!” the waitress said, ushering the two of you to exchange rings in the middle of the restaurants

which seonghwa surprised you with, gently holding your hand and slipping the ring on your forefinger while you smiled teasingly before doing the same.

When two of you left, it rained heavily. With no sign of a store nearby to grab an umbrella, you decided why not walk under the rain.

“y/n, you’re gonna get sick!”

“it’s worth it!” you yell back, twirling in the rain while he watched you from afar. though following you anyway, with a permanent smile on his face.

he thinks it’s the most he’s ever smiled, and it happened to be when he’s with you.

and then hears you sniffle, drenched from top to bottom yet a smile never left your lips. “cold?” he asked, and you nod, and then he removed his long warm coat to drape around your shoulders. “good?”

“great.” you answered, heart skipping a beat.

and if he thought you two would call it a day there, he was wrong. because you dragged him into a photo booth to take pictures, one where he stands stuff as a guard and their others where you forced him to make at least one face.

“put up a peace sign at least!” you whined your which he smiled at and did as you told, copying you and taking the pictures you wanted.

where in one you had your hands on his shoulder in the cramped booth, the two of you pushed up against one other. eyes staring into each other’s eyes while your breaths mingled, and if one move, he’d end up kissing you. and it’s not like you minded, noticing his blushing face whenever you were remotely two inches away from his face, you found it endearing.

and then you took him to a playground, thankfully which was near his place. challenging him for a round of basketball to which he shook his head at, “we should go back home now, y/n, it’s almost ten-“

“just one round.” you asked, holding up one finger with shiny eyes and he couldn’t help but nod.

though he beat you in every single round that was definitely more than one, you yelled at him to either “stop cheating!” followed by a gasp or a “i was too easy on you!” or “i let you win!” to which he’d teasingly nod his head at.

and now you two stood in front of his apartment door, “i asked boss if you could stay the night, he said only if you’re back early morning.”

you turn to him, “i don’t wake up before ten by the way!” and push open the door while he stands with his shoulders slumped before joining you inside and keeping a distance.

“sorry, my house isn’t as big as yours.” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed.

“i kind of don’t care?” you say, looking around his small living room with a smile. “now where’s the bathroom?"

he points to the right and you say a thank you before scurrying towards it, leaving him standing alone by the door with his hands in his pocket.

a sigh leaves his lips as he begins to take his coat off, the one that now smelled like you. but before he has the chance to hang it up, his hand rummages through the pocket to find a strip of photos you two took.

a smile forms one his lips unknowingly, staring at the strip where your lips made a pout and he tried to copy it or where you held up a peace sign and his eyes were on you.

he couldn’t recognize the stare he was giving you, but he knows it’s something he shouldn’t dwell on further, knowing it’s against the rules given to him.

“you think he’d like this?” you ask, tapping your feet on the gravel repeatedly while looking at kai through the car window.

“you bought him the entire store,” he snaps his hand, “what makes you think he wouldn’t?”

you sigh and nod, leaning over the window and tapping the dashboard. “can you bring what i asked you in a while? i’ll text you okay?”

“got it,” he nods, pushing his glasses down, winking and raising his fist in the air.

with a smile, you grab the bags (in the hand that doesn’t hurt) from the backseat and take a quick look at the dark, cloudy sky and you know it’s about to rain.

“if i don’t text you,” you say, fishing your phone out to see the messages being sent in by hongjoong. “that means he said no.”

he nods and you turn around, holding the big bag in your right hand as kai drives his car out the driveway before you make your way inside the bodyguard quarters. hiding from the cameras you know your dad would be able to watch and you’d be done for.

the second you’re inside, a whole line of bodyguards stand at the lobby waiting for you with a grin. they bow in sync, and you stop them mid-way, “y-you don’t need to bow please!”

they all smile, and you return it awkwardly before asking where seonghwa was, and at the mention of him they all stand up straight. gulp and then point towards the left in unison.

you hold back a snort before nodding and running down the hallway, a soft smile on your face and a bag hidden behind your back. you walk, jog, run whatever down the hall until you’re standing in front of the room where hongjoong said seonghwa would be at.

with a long and shaky inhale, you lift your hand to wrap around the doorknob. but before that you press your ear up against the door, feeling your heartbeat increase with each punch you hear from the inside.

swallowing the lump down your throat, you twist the door open and step inside quietly. closing the door behind you, you’re welcomed to a dark room.

where in the middle shone a bright light, where you hear loud punches being thrown at a punching bag and you immediately know it’s seonghwa.

from the rough breathing and the groans, your insides coil up as you slowly step towards the light. and when you do, you’re able to see the back of seonghwa though the netted wall. he wears a black tank top, and your eyes can’t help but rake at his broad back muscles flexing with every movement he does.

with a small smile you begin to walk towards him, hoping he won’t notice you right away. you watch the way his hands move skillfully, how he stands in one place het completely demolishes the bag with a single punch.

his hair over his eyes, arms shining with sweat and jaw clenched you couldn’t help but feel your knees grow weak.

his hand threw a loud punch at the bag, sweating and grunting with each movement before he finally stops. letting out a loud sigh and unwraps the white bandages around his fists, stretching his shoulders while he’s at it.

then he throws the bandages on the floor and turns around only to stop, “y/n?” he squeaks, eyes looking at you up and down as you walk in holding cake with a candle lit up in the middle.

“w-what are you doing he-“

“happy birthday mr bodyguard!” he hears you squeal as you walk closer to him holding the cake that he finally gets a full view of you as you come under the light singing the birthday song.

“happy birthday hwa.” you whisper, and his eyes grow wide and shiny and glassy. you walk closer with a growing soft smile, carefully reaching out to grab his wrist. “come sit first.”

“y/n..” he mumbles, and you smile, placing the cake box on the floor as you take a seat on the ground. “who…who told you?”

“hongjoong,” you respond, pushing the cake his way with a smile that he can’t help but want to see every day. “now, blow the candles!”

“you didn’t have to do this y/n,”

“who was going to then?” you raise an eyebrow, “they all told me you never celebrate your birthday, because you’re so stubborn and bossy and angry-“

he cuts you off with a deep laugh that makes butterflies gather in your stomach, “did they really tell you that?”

you shake your head, “no, just my observations.” he smirks, “i got a keen eye you know?”

“hm?” he teases before you push the cake his way, he grabs the plastic knife from your hand and leans forward.

“i haven’t formally celebrated my birthday in years.” he whispers, and you smile a little, “thank you."

hovering his face over the cake, he looks at you with a soft look and reaches for your hand gently. “do it with me.”

you frown, “no, it’s your birthday silly!”

he hears nothing but motions for you to come closer and you do, on a count of three the two of you blow the candle at the same time while he still holds your hand, occasionally rubbing his thumb over the top of your hand.

“happy birthday seonghwa!” you say once again, sheepishly bringing a small confetti popper out and popping it.

you expect it to rain confetti with a pop all over but all you get is seonghwa throwing his head back laughing, while all the confetti’s laying in your lap. you popped it the wrong way.

you bite your lower lip before gathering them in your hand and throwing the confetti in the air, it’s right then when time falls slow for him.

he watches the way colorful confetti fills the air and how your eyes glow at the sight of it, a smile one your face and it feels like you were the epitome of light for him.

a pot of honey, or an orb of light or what he hears people in movies call a euphoric feeling.

“thank you,”

it’s all he’s able to say because he’s so fixated on your tinted lips curling into never ending smile that makes his heartbeat ring in his ear.

the more he looks at you, he feels like he’s in some cliché hallmark movie that wooyoung forces him to watch to experience affection.

he thinks he’s experiencing affection right now and he wishes wooyoung was with him but the other part of him wished he didn’t have him there, not because of his teasing but because he wanted this moment to himself.

where you feed him a piece of cake with a cherry on top, accidentally brushing your fingertips to his lips for a quick second to you sitting by him with a polaroid camera in front of him.

the camera you’re barely able to hold properly because of your elbow, which he supports by holding the other side of the camera.

“say cheese!”

he doesn’t, but smiles either way which makes you snort and take the picture anyway. one where he holds the cake and the other where he’s midway of eating it, where his cheeks are full, and eyes are wide and shiny.

and as you’re about to move away, he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you close. close enough for you to be right in front of his face, tips of your noses touch. “where do you think you’re going?”

“nowhere.” you whisper, shakily. eyes on him but they keep flickering down to his lips.

“take a picture with me then,” he asks, searching your face as the light highlights it. the dark room where only you two are in, it feels as if you’re in the sets of the greatest showman. “…because i want to have a memory of you.“

“well, it’s not like i’m going anywhere,” you say cheekily and his smile falters for a second, but before you notice he shakes his head. “i’m still here, but! since i’m really nice we’ll take one.”

with that you sit by him, a little distance between you two that he notices and snakes his arm around your waist to pull you in closer.

“good?” he whispers down your neck, low and raspy that it sends a shiver down your body.

“good.” you whisper back, looking at the camera before lifting it up, barely, with your arm that is until he takes it from your hands and holds it in his.

he moves closer till your shoulder hit’s his chest and his chin is rests on top of your head, the action alone makes you want to curl in closer but it’s the thoughts in your head that stop you.

which to be fair, your thoughts are never ones that won’t end up on your tongue. which is exactly what happening in the next few moments that seem like the most aggravatingly slow moments.

“i like you.”

he snaps the picture.

you feel him stiffen up beside you and you closer your eyes, biting your lips and repeating you’re done for, you’re done for, you’re done for.

“i like you seonghwa.” you repeat and keep going until you know you’ll be regretting it. “i have for a while now….a-and i,” you clear your throat, “i couldn’t hold it anymore.”

“y/n..”

“i know! i know!” you quickly interrupt him, “you just think of me as your boss and all, which yes, go you! but…i know this sounds selfish but..”

“but?” he whispers, feeling his breath fan down your neck and it only makes you bite your lips more.

“i kind of, not kind of! but i did fall for you…it may sound selfish because you were just doing your job and…” you swallow, feeling tears prickle at your eyes at this confession even if it sounds so stupid. “…and i’m sorry for that but i really wanted you to be more than just my bodyguard.”

“i also know you won’t agree to it!” you explain, and he listens to it while staring down at you. “which is your decision and i respect that…but i really wanted to tell you this before..before it became worse.”

“why?”

your heart thumps against your chest at the silence, heart dropping to your stomach and palms growing sweaty.

“you’re comforting to be around,” you answer, looking down at your lap. “you do the smallest things, and it drives me crazy, i thought i was crazy at first…but the more i spend my time with you.”

“i was convinced i started to like you more than i had previously,” a sigh leaves your lips, as you mind plays flashbacks. “every time you’d walk by in that suit of yours,” you smack your forehead lightly at that. “god, i didn’t know someone could be that attractive, with that angry face all the time.”

“so yes…” you inhale sharply and make the mistake of looking at him, “i really do like you, not as a bodyguard…but more than that, gosh this feels so stupid to say..”

before he gets to answer, you’re already up on your feet. looking anywhere but him, “i..you can take your time to think,” he watches you step back, “i’ll be outside!” before you scurried away.

leaving a dumbfounded seonghwa with a small box in hand, a cake on the floor and a polaroid beside him.

“i like you.”

“shit.” he whispers to himself in the silence, fingers opening the box in his hands which reveals a wallet. his eyebrow furrow at that, “wallet?”

but then he remembers it’s the same one he was looking at the other day, where you two went out after your class and how you were asking him if he liked a certain item.

“shit, shit, shit.”

“i like you, more than just my bodyguard.”

he then runs a hand down his face, biting his lips as he pushes his hair back and looks down at the polaroid of you and him. he lifts his it up in his hands and stares at it.

a photo of you and him together, unlike all the photos he’s been in where you’re in the front beside your father and he’s in the far back.

your smile makes his lips curl into one, your cheek squished against his chest and his chin on your head, he sighs as he stares at it more.

“i did fall for you.”

he wished he felt surprised at what you had hold him, but on the inside he wasn’t. he felt like he knew it all along, how you felt and as the days went by and…he couldn’t help but be attracted to you too.

from your bright, cheery, and teasing personality that, at first, got on his nerves but now he can’t get it out of his nerves because he’s grown to be very fond if you as well.

and he knows he’s fond of you especially if he gets called out by wooyoung and hongjoong in the hallways, whenever you’d walk last him and wink at him it’s like they knew and teased him about it.

so, he then finds himself looking at the door, biting the insides of his lower lip he stands up and as he’s about to walk out the door with a smirk on his face, he remembers your father.

and all the blood from his face drains.

how can he betray your father like that? his hands fall down the doorknob as his heartbeat thumps against his chest. how can he go against your fathers’ rules? and fall for you?

“i like you seonghwa.”

“do not touch my daughter.”

“i like you seonghwa…more than just my bodyguard.”

how can he betray the hand that feeds him?

but can he betray his own heart like that?

as seonghwa steps outside the back doors after getting looks of tease from the other guards, which he responds with a grim and stands by the front doors.

watching the rain fall and create mists all over, so much so that he’s barely able to see the back yard. he inhales before grabbing an umbrella, opening it with one hand while the other stays in his pocket where he had the picture of you two.

with only one thing in his mind, you.

at how he’s going to answer you, your dad and himself.

speaking of you, he sees you running towards him from the white mists in the dark night. at first, he squints his eyes to make sure it is you and not some newbie doing rounds around the place.

once you’re more visible to him, his heartbeat takes a sudden stride in speed as you run towards him, holding a bouquet of red flowers.

smiling brightly while you’re getting drenched in the rain, holding the bouquet to your chest as you step into puddles avoiding the rain.

and before he thinks ahead, he walks down the stairs. walking to you with an umbrella over his head, eyes stuck on you and hand holding the picture tightly.

you notice and run faster, breathing heavily. waving at him to which he just stares at you, and your smile falters.

a sinking feeling in your stomach grows as you come closer him, until finally you’re under the same umbrella as him.

“hi,” you breathe out, panting and clutching the bouquet in your wet hands.

he smiles a little, eyes flickering from your eyes to your hair that’s all wet to your lips that make him clutch the umbrella tighter. “hi.”

“i brought this for you too,” you point at the flowers and look up, holding them out towards you.

he says nothing but watches the way the light from behind him shines on your face. a singular ray of light perfectly halving your face, leaving one side bright and the other darker.

“….and i assume your answer is a, no?” he hears you ask, tilting your head just a little.

“i like you.”

“i like you seonghwa.”

“more than just a bodyguard.”

you smile a little, exhaling before nodding. “that’s alright,” you squeak out despite the heavy feeling in your heart.

“i hope you’ll be the perfect man for this job,”

“don’t disappoint me park.”

“i like you seonghwa.”

“…you can..just forget this ever h-“

but before you’re able to finish your sentence and say your prepared pre-break-up speech and him being able to articulate his thoughts. you’re cut off by seonghwa throwing the umbrella to the side and locking his lips with yours at a surprising pace.

you let out a squeal at the suddenness, but cave right in at his soft, plumpy and pillowy lips. your eyes fall shut slowly as a gasp of yours gets hushed by his lips that stay over yours for a second longer and then slowly start to move.

his arms sneak around your torso, pulling you in and the action alone makes your heart pound faster. he holds you impossibly closer, your hands falling flat against his chest as he balances you to him.

he pulls back shortly, resting his forehead on yours while his eyes are shut but his lips break out into a smile. the rain falls down on you two hard, but that’s the least of your worries, neither that or the possible stares you two are getting from the windows or the cctv camera’s.

“are you…”

“yes.” he whispers, opening his eyes to look at yours. “i like you too.”

you chuckle, “i was going to ask if you were dating anyone.”

he snorts, nuzzling his forehead against yours. “why?” pecking at the skin under your eye.

“i don’t like to share.”

he breaks out into a toothy smile, and it tugs at your chest, blinking away the rain on your eyelashes. “fortunately, the perks of working under your dad is that i never dated.”

you nod with a raised eyebrow, “guess that’ll change now, huh?”

he smiles, “i guess so.” and does that thing with his eyebrows, in that teasing singing tone that makes you look away.

when you look up, your eyes stop at his lips and just the sight of them makes you throw your head back and laugh. “what is it?” he asks, lifting his hand from your waist to your upper back.

you then lift your hand to wipe your face with your sleeve before looking at him, and then hook your sleeve to your thumb and point at his lips. “my lipsticks all on you silly.”

and as you’re about to swipe it off, he cuts you off in leaning in closer to kiss you all over again. but this time by deepening the kiss, a ray of butterflies fill your gut, and you wrap your arms around his neck.

the flowers long gone and now you two standing alone in the rain, umbrella on the ground beside seonghwa, flowers beside you and just the night falling on you two.

you feel him smile against your lips when you try to make a point about the flowers, “hey!” but he pays no attention and instead licks at lower lip, and you grant access by opening your mouth while smiling which he gladly takes and slips his tongue in.

your hands that rested on his neck now find playing with his hair, kissing him as passionately and intensely as he does. his hand travel down to behind your thighs, before he slightly lifts you off the ground, the sound of lips smacking against one another echoed slightly, but the rain overpowered it all.

the kiss is rhythmic, slow and stable at the same time. the one that makes your knees wobble and if it weren’t for him holding your waist, you probably- absolutely, would’ve slid down.

when he pulls back, both of you are breathless. panting as a string of spit connects you two, he leans in again and kisses you the same way he did before.

lifting his hand cupping your cheeks and kissing your gently until you whisper his name, and he slowly pulls back, his hair covering his eyes while his swollen lips match yours.

“we can’t let anyone find out about us.” you nod with a determined look.

“especially my dad.”

“especially your dad.”

you chuckle, nodding before your eyes travel behind him and you laugh once again.

“wooyoung’s-“

“watching through the window, isn’t he?” he asks, wrapping his arms around you to pull you in his embrace.

you chuckle, looking behind him to see all of them pressed up against the window, cheeks and bodies all squished to get a look.

“mhm,” you smile, catching wooyoung’s wave with an overly impressed face. “he’s actually waving at you right now.”

“tell him he better run.”

with the way your gala was being prepared, you would’ve thought it was some oscars. from dress’s to suits to decorations to gifts and to invites, it was all a mess.

and so were you and seonghwa.

a mess, trying to hide it all in front and behind your fathers’ sharp eyes.

you were sure you two would get caught in a matter of a few minutes, even seconds but were left utterly surprised when you realized it had been a little over a month since you two began your secret venture.

with holding hands under the tables and behind your backs, to sneakily escaping out at night to get your fair share of dates which one, were short but were worth it. any date or time you spent together only made you get to know him even better than before, which means you were in too deep for him.

it was evident on your face that you were so entranced by seonghwa, from having your elbow on the table and cupping your cheek while watching seonghwa explain something to your dad.

or watch him train the newbies, flipping them over in combat while wooyoung teased about seonghwa getting softer.

seonghwa’s usual ‘angry-young-man’ face was now switched to someone who couldn’t keep a smile off his face when you were in the room, which at times did get him in trouble.

“what’re you smiling at park?”

“n-nothing sir, just remembered a joke.”

which made you look away to hide a laugh, “oh? share it with us too.”

“dad!”

as for seonghwa, the teasing’s he gets every second were more than enough to get his feelings across. from getting shy to hiding his face in your shoulder whenever you tease him about it to doing an absolute 360 when the doors are closed.

so, you don’t know how a game of monopoly could lead into seonghwa hovering on top of you, thankfully, this time at his place.

“you’re in a hurry,” you whisper, raising an eyebrow teasingly to which he smirks at. “can’t guard me from you?”

“very much so,” he whispers, closing the space between his lips and yours and pressing them together gently. “you know sometimes…you talk too much.”

“yeah?” you say against his lips, “then…make me go quiet.”

you feel him smile softly in between the kiss that’s gone from sweet, slow, to faster but sensual. his hands slowly travel to yours, interlocking his fingers with yours he brings your hand above your head.

“i think,” he pulls back, forehead resting on yours and staring directly at you with a fond look. “i like you talking, especially right now.”

you hum playfully and he moves to place his lips on yours, lifting his other hand up to cup your cheek to deepen it. his warm lips melt over yours in an instant and it shoots butterflies in your stomach, squirming under him when he hums against your lips.

he pushes himself on you and your let out a muffled whimper, his tongue licks at your lips and his grasp on your wrist tightens. the sound of kissing echoes the room, and you grow impatient, lifting your head up to his to kiss back quicker, and more intenser.

he catches into that quick and whispers a “easy.” in between the kisses and it makes you fall back, he finds purchase in sucking on your lower lip in particular, that’s so soft that he lightly nibbles on it.

with a slight gasp that leaves you, he takes the chance to slip his tongue in. quickly exploring your mouth and you moan when he uses his teeth to nibble on your lower lip and it has you moaning and lifting your hips against him.

he nibbles and sucks and swirls his tongue over your lips, hands roaming everywhere and swollen, hot, swollen lips pecking every part of your face, neck and shoulders that makes you giggle as he does it repeatedly with a smile.

he sucks and bites and circles his tongue down your neck, sucking at a spot that has you hissing in pleasure. your hand still in his hold above your head while the other wraps around his shoulders.

when you two pull back, both of you are breathing heavily. panting his eyes looks at yours, and then down to your swollen lips. smirking he lays his lips over yours again, softly and it only lasts for a second before he pulls back.

“you think we’ll make it back to your place,” he mumbles lowly, caressing your cheek. “in a few?” his low tone sends a shiver down your spine, and you shudder.

“my plan was to stay in actually.” you whisper back, your fingers pushing his hair back.

his hand that held your hand up, trails down to your waist, his fingertips dance over your clothed skin. you could feel the thudding of your loud heartbeat fastening, driving your knees weak when he looks at you with those sharp, and eyes that grew darker in a split second.

“…as much as i want to,” he whispers, leaning down to peck your cheeks. “we can’t.”

he hears you whine and leans down by your ear, “if we have time later on, and you’re not drunk-“

but you’re quick to shut up him by locking your lips with his, catching him off-guard. lifting yourself up and pushing him up by the shoulders, in a matter of seconds switching positions to seating as his back hits bedframe and you come to straddle his legs.

“in a hurry?” he whispers, a little out of breath and wide eyed, hands itching to hold onto the ends of your dress, it makes you rub your thighs together.

you smirk, “very.” and take his hands to your hips, “didn’t take you for someone who’d be slow.”

“oh yeah?” he asks, bunching your dress up to your waist before he leans down, pressing himself over you and earning a low mewl from you.

“mhm,” you nod, hands lifting unbutton his shirt. “into vanilla?”

he smirks, “i’m into many things,” he lifts you up and you take the chance to wrap your arms around his shoulders, closing in on the distance between you two.

“at once or alone?” you tease.

his fingers fiddle with the strap as of your dress and you unbutton his shirt, and he chucks it away somewhere on the floor. “wait and see.”

with a smile, you run your forefinger down his chest until it reaches the very end, you lean forward peck his lips and then slowly start to grind on him. his hands immediately fly to your hips as he keeps them in one place and gives you a stare, and then returns the kiss.

the glint of darkness in his eyes makes your insides curl as he pushes your dress strap down, hands on your waist and eyes on you he can’t help but throw his head back and groan.

and you can’t help but find it attractive, you’ve been with people before who’d rather suppress their voices than to let them out fully. so, seeing him do so turns you on even more, enough for you to take the initiative and strip yourself off the dress, tossing it somewhere in the room.

his eyes land on your chest before looking at you, his grip on your waist tightening as you smile and push your hair to the side. “fuck,” he swears under his breath, and you hide back a smile and begin to grind against him.

he leans in to kiss you once again and it’s as if he can’t seem to get enough of you, his hands go from your waist to your breast, and he squeeze at them lightly. earning bite on his lips from you, “god damnit y/n,” he mumbles.

stopping everything to just look at you, from the way the little number of light shades over your face. how prettily your hair sits on your shoulders, how smooth your skin look and how beautiful it all feels to him. the stare in your eyes, playfully yet trusting and the bite you do to your lips that drives him crazy.

crazy enough that he pushes you back on the bed, earning a gasp from you when his lips attach to your neck and fingers go straight to your clit.

he smirks at the way you twitch, quickly capturing your lips again. not so sweetly this time as it gets messier, and faster as if he’s hungry along with his hard dick pressing in you, your hips arching to him as you begin to grind. lips never leaving the others, you two kept on going.

smiling and moaning in between the kisses, you pushing his hair back which makes him smile and squeeze your hips.

“seonghwa, p-please.” you say, his mouth moving down to your jaw to your neck and to your shoulders. knowing he’s leaving his mark on your skin and you couldn’t care less if anyone even found out.

you wanted him to mark you, and you made sure you told him that by responding to every single one of his touches. “you’re so pretty…i can’t believe you’re mine.” he whispers, nuzzling into you while whispering sweet nothings and cooing.

the sudden action making you bite your lips and throw your head back, feeling his hands come up to cup your breasts as he squeezes at them.

his lips curl up in a smirk, “you’ve been waiting, haven’t you?” he pauses to take in your face, the way your eyebrows touch and your mouth that parts a little. “to do this.”

“mhm,” you nod as he slowly brings his hand to your center, you back immediately arches to his hand, and he chuckles.

“how long?”

“since the day you became my guard.”

and with that he wastes no time to pull your panties to the side, finally pressing his slim and long fingers to your already wet self. the moment his fingers touch your clit, you shudder, and he gasps breathily.

he uses his middle finger to run a lap up your folds and you breathe in heavily, your hands now flat against his chest as he flattens his palm against your now needy clit.

his tongue pokes out his mouth, eyeing the way your lips let out sighs and how you close your eyes at the way he begins to move his finger in and out of you.

he slowly starts to insert his fingers inside you and your mouth hangs open, he sees your reaction and inserts another finger in. your body jumping in pleasure, and he quickly pecks your lips, “it’s okay.”

he hums when he runs the tip of his index finger over your already wet pussy before plunging it into your heat and you gaped at the intensity, buying your head seonghwa’s chest.

he slowly starts to move as you throw your part your legs open, he pumps in and out of you at a slow speed, then fastens it. breathy moans flee your pretty lips and it has him fastening his pace even faster, his lips remain attached to your neck while his slim and long fingers move at a fast pace.

you arch your back and move your hips along to his rhythm, “like it?” he mumbles, before delivering on an angle that as your entire body arching up.

“y-yes,” you breathe out, eyes shut.

your hand reaches for seonghwa’s free hand and guide him to your breast “y/n-“ his left hand rid to your left breast, kneading it softly while fingering your clit at different speeds and fumbling with that specific bundle of nerves harshly leaving you whimpering his name out loud.

“hm?” he hums, teeth grazing your skin.

“i’m close!” your eyes are shut tight and the heat coiling in your stomach becoming too much for you.

just as you say that he stops. you let out a cry in frustration and he smirks, “easy there ma’am,” you smile at the ‘ma’am’ “we’ve got a few minutes.”

you open your eyes gently to see him staring down at you, admiring you in a way no one has ever. his stare alone makes you look away and he chuckled lowly at that.

he then hovers over you, his chain hitting your face in the way, and he plants fleeing kisses all over your face, neck, and shoulders, you squirm and chuckle until he cups your cheek. “y/n,” he whispers, eyes looking at you longingly as tears pricks at your eyes. “i’m gonna go in, is that okay?”

you smile and pull him closer by the chain he has on, “i’ve been waiting hwa,” you whisper against his lips.

and then he does it again, inhaling sharply as he admires you. fighting the urge to let out a whimper and begins by pecking every part of you, humming with a smile whenever you run your fingers through his hair.

you hear him unbuckle his pants and it has you biting your lips, thought his eyes never leave yours when doing so. choosing to watch the way your face changes expressions, as if remembering it all as if you’d vanish, he slips his briefs off and his cock slaps his stomach.

his fingers hover over your clit before he slowly pushes them in, your head thrown back and your mouth letting out breathy and airy moans of his names that you’re sure his neighbors can probably loud and clear.

“y/n, please be quiet for me.” he warns but with no ill intent, instead it comes off as a whine in your ear as you bite your lips, arching your back to his fingers.

“no,” your whines don’t stop him from using his slim and long fingers to curl up inside you, his face hidden in your neck while he fingered your already sensitive clit from moments prior.

it’s then when he whispers that he’s about to go in and you cry his name out, the one that had his cock hardening.

“fuck, baby.” he lets out a whine when he eyes your state, “you’ve been a brat but i love it all.”

he then lines his tip, that’s already been coated in pearls of precum to your entrance. holding your hand in his while the other stays on your waist, he enters you, both your lips letting out gasps when you feel one another.

he buries his face in your neck as he starts to move, hearing your moans in his ear as you feel yourself stretch out at his length. he starts slow, as if testing the waters and then picks his speed up.

you let out high pitched yet breathy cries for pleasure and hold onto his shoulders, nails digging in his shoulders, body moving against the bed as he grunts and groans and grinds himself into you.

your head falls back, mouth hangs open as he starts to roll his hips into yours and you let out a cry that echoed the room.

“you feel so- god, so good.” you cry out as he continues to go at different speeds, the room filling with his own loud moans, groans, and growls.

“be quiet for me y/n,” he does a particular thrust that has you biting your lips. “can’t have the nei-“

“fuck your neighbors,” you manage to let out in the state you were in, “f-fuck me.”

he whines, the one that his eyebrows touching. “bossy much?” and chuckles cockily.

“f-fuck yes hwa,” your eyes roll back when he hits that certain spot in you, again and again, you let out a cry, throwing your head back on the pillow while releasing moans and whimpers of his name in pleasure.

he whines and groans into you when he feels you clench around him and he pounds into you again, fast, and hard and deep and you let a loud, pleasurable moan as the heat in you becomes unbearable until you both find yourselves coming down from your highs.

he carefully takes himself out of you and you wince at the sensitivity. sweat lines both your bodies, sex filling air and he slumps down on you, wrapping his arms around you with a peck to your forehead, nose and then he’s about to place on your lips that you pull him to you. burying your face in his chest, he chuckles.

“are you okay?” he asks, gently caressing your hair, he pecks your temple. feeling you hold him tighter, you two stay like this for a while, catching your breaths.

when you lift your head to look at him, “i’m impressed.” he looks at you with half lidded eyes and a boyish grin that makes your heart swell.

“already?” he mocks playfully with a scoff. “wait til-“

“-gosh, keep things a surprise, will you?” you groan, and he nods cutely while poking his tongue out.

it goes quiet for a while, just you to now lying beside one another. chests heaving up and down at a slow pace and your face now turning to his, “hey seonghwa.”

you hear him hum in response, “would you..actually never mind.”

“what is it?” he asks, turning his body towards you.

you shake your head, “c’mon, you’ve got me hooked now.”

“no, it’s just…i don’t think you answer it.” you mumble, sighing after that.

“i probably can’t unless you don’t tell me y/n,” he whispers, nudging your cheek with his nose. “what’s got your pretty little head thinking?”

you swallow, close your eyes, and blurt. “would you….go against my father for me?”

the silence that follows makes you smile a little, knowing the question you asked would be met with nothing but disappointment. “i told you, you wouldn’t be able to answer it.”

when you open your eyes, you find him staring at you with a look you can’t quite decipher, “i’m…”

“that’s fine.” you reassure, patting his chest a stiff grin. “you don’t have to say anything.”

“i don’t have an answer…” he inhales sharply, “just yet.”

you smile, nodding before laying down on your back. falling into yet another round of silence until he speaks.

“thoughts on a hot shower?” he offers, caressing your arms.

“yes, please!”

he lifts himself up on his elbows and holds you by your back, “come on lazy,”

you give him a soft grin, eyes threatening to fall into slumber that he shakes you gently. “don’t sleep on me sweetheart, we’ve got places to be.”

when you don’t respond or move, he stands up, hissing at the cold floor under his feet before lifting you off the bed. your eyes fly open, and a gasp leaves your lips, arms immediately wrapping around his shoulders.

with a laugh he walks to his bathroom, pushing the door open with his feet he turns the light on while you watch him with a grin. he then places you on the counter carefully, pecking your nose before stepping aside to grab a few towels.

just as he’s about to though, the bell to his front door rings. your eyes meet at that, almost as if asking each other who it was.

“oh! must be your neighbors.” you tease, and he chucks a towel at your face. “noise complaint perhaps?”

he shakes his head and looks out the bathroom doorframe with a small frown and then looks at you, “go in first, i’ll go see who it is.”

with that he shuts the bathroom door, grabs his pants and shirt, and hurriedly puts them on as the bell rings again. not once, or twice but thrice.

he doesn’t know why he his stomach drops as he walks closer to open the door, thinking it may just be one of the guys coming to get ready at his place.

with his hand on the doorknob, he hears you call out for him, and he twists open the door after unlocking it, expecting wooyoung or hongjoong at his door.

but what he didn’t expect was your dad standing at his door.

“join me for a walk, seonghwa.”

everywhere you look it feels suffocating, the obnoxious colors of gold and silver blinding your vision along with the ample amount of people in this grand hall of yours. everything was overly luxurious to the point it might start to look tacky.

“you seem awfully distracted at your own celebration,” you roll your eyes at the obnoxious voice of kai. “where’s your guard?”

right, seonghwa.

you can’t find him anywhere, in fact this whole week he’s been absent or rushing somewhere.

“that’s who i’m looking for,” you respond, holding your wine red dress up as you walk past crowds giving you smiles with motives behind them.

you’ve been at this gala ever since it started, meeting people you’ve never seen before who offer or beg you to accept their son as your husband in exchange of power and protection.

you’ve successfully dodged every single one of their attempts, looking for seonghwa instead but you can’t find him anywhere. not even outside, not with hongjoong or wooyoung or even beside your dad.

you’ve sent him countless messages that are either not sent or turned green.

there’s an uneasiness beginning to settle in your gut, a worry of sort that you haven’t seen or heard from him ever since this gala started and it’s almost about to end.

you’ve barely touched the champagne in your hand, eyes roaming around countlessly trying to see just where seonghwa was. you walk past the lavish decorations, ranging from holds and silvers and flowers of all sorts to where you saw wooyoung lined up.

you see the way his eyes lighten up when you walk closer to him, his stiff posture faltering. “wooyoung.”

“hi y/- ma’am!” he quickly corrects himself quickly in a panic. “you look lovely.” he points, and you wave him off with a chuckle.

“have you seen seonghwa?”

“i was actually going to ask you the same,” he says, expression changing when he sees the restlessness on your face. “i haven’t seen him since morning, i figured he was with y-“

“-he isn’t,” you interrupt, fingers gripping the glass tighter as you look over your shoulder. your gaze falls straight on your father who’s busy talking to a number of investors with a laugh. “i’ll, i’ll go look don’t worry!”

with that you begin to walk towards your dad, eyes narrowing and forming into glares because you know your dad’s got something to do with this.

your glass finds itself placed on a waiter’s tray as he walks by as you make your way closer to your dad. your heels click against the marble and as you’re stepping closer, the crowd steps back until you’re finally standing in front of him with a smile.

“hi dad,” you sigh, looking beside him to see an elder man giving you a polite smile. “can we talk?”

“of course,” your dad gives the man beside him and a few others a look before turning to you, “excuse me gentleman.”

you father extends his arm to you, and you give him a stare before smiling stiffly, linking your arm with his before walking to a private space just near the end of the hall.

as you’re walking with your dad through the crowd, many give you two smiles and bows of respect. the action alone makes you cringe, and you look away, jaw clenching and unclenching until you two are finally out of everyone’s hair.

“dad,” you close the door behind you, arms crossing over your chest. “where’s hwa?

your father ticks an eyebrow at your mistake, “who’s that?”

you grit your teeth, “you know exactly who, don’t joke around like this.”

if anyone were to walk in right now, they’d be witnessing a stare down between the father-daughter. your eyes imitated his perfectly, the emotionless glare he sends your way with maybe, a little bit of warmth behind it.

“he’s seonghwa for you.”

“you don’t get to decide that dad.” you enunciate, standing tall now. “where is he.”

the man in front of you shrugs, “he’s at the countryside, doing a job for me.”

“oh?” you raise an eyebrow, “but don’t you usually send your bodyguards there?”

“what do you mean?” he narrows his eyes at you, a frown decorating his face now. “he is one of mine-“

“nuh uh,” you stop him, “seonghwa’s my bodyguard now, i get to decide where he goes and doesn’t.”

“in fact, you’d never send anyone of your men away when you know there’s an event!” you take a step forward, “you want the most protection at these things and sending seonghwa? the one with the most experience here away? just like that?”

“there’s certain things he needs to finish.”

“i don’t trust you,” you blurted, making him snap his eyes at you. “you’ve been having way too many emergency meetings with seonghwa…so much so that he’s barely around.”

“and why are you so worried y/n?” he questions, tone as if jabbing at you. “he’s just your bodyguard, am i right?”

you grow quiet at that, “he’s..”

“we have to keep this a secret.”

“he’s…my friend.” you respond, staring at your dad with a frown. “he’s someone i’ve begun to trust more than anyone in this house.”

“you can’t be friends with guards, they’re not on our level.”

you scoff, “have you gone crazy?” you ask, staring at him in disbelief. “what does that even mean!”

“it means you cannot have any relationships with guards,” he announces, staring into your eyes directly before looking away. “bodyguards are neither friends nor families…they’re just low lives.”

“don’t forget you started from there too dad,” you bite back, eyes now forming into an icy glare. “those low lives of yours put their lives on line for you, they get injured and worse, even killed because of you!”

“that is their job.”

“and yours is to respect them!” you yell back, appalled by this sudden change in your dad’s demeanor that you had never seen before.

“you like seonghwa.”

fuck the secret seonghwa, you think.

“i do.” you admit, voice shaky and you take a step closer. “i like one of your low lives, guess that makes me one too, am i right?”

you father says nothing, and you scoff, running a hand down your face frustratedly. “i like seonghwa- in fact…i’m in love with him.”

you see the way that makes him turn his head towards you, jaw clenching and you inhale sharply. “so, it’s either you watch your mouth da-“

“y/n!” his yell echoes the room, and it makes you wince, “i don’t care if you’re in love with him, break it off.”

“you’re my heir, you can’t be around anyone like him.” he retorts, crossing his hands behind his back. “you inherit this mafia whether you like it or not y/n.”

“i-i don’t want to dad.”

“your brother can’t,” he mumbles, and you realize that now, “you don’t have a choice in this, the day i die…everyone will come to kill you.”

you scoff, hands now behind your back. “break everything off with him, it’s what he’d want as well.”

“you don’t know what he wants!” you grit out, your breathing picking its pace up. “you don’t know what anyone wants! you just know what you want and what you want others to do for you.”

“seonghwa does not want anything to do with you,” he says, eyes flickering from yours to the window just to the left of the room. “not anymore.”

“i don’t believe it.” your voice drops to a whisper, “not until i hear it from him.”

with that you turn around, hand hovering over the doorknob as your hand begins to shake a little. you then look over your shoulder, seeing how your father doesn’t even spare you a glance but instead looks out the window with a grim.

with a slight shake of your head, your fingers grasp with the doorknob. twisting the door open, just enough for light to hit your face that you father speaks again, and you wish he hadn’t.

“either break up with seonghwa or get on the flight tomorrow morning.”

your heart sinks to your stomach, a shiver running down your body. a spite of sorts forming in you against your father, who once was all your world, someone you believed every word off.

your ears hear the party outside and at the same time hear the pin drop silence in the room behind you, your eyes fall over the happy faces of the guests, and you look back.

hoping your father would laugh and call it all a joke but all you get is nothing, that alone makes tears form in your eyes and before you let it escalate further, you walk out.

the second you walk out of your house, you burst out into tears. finding a bench just to the far right of your place, you take a seat in the cold alone.

your eyes wander off into the sky, hands wiping the tears streaming down your face uncontrollably. your body then hunches forward, hands holding your head as you shut your eyes.

“break it off with seonghwa.”

“it’s what he’d want.”

“they’re just low lives.”

as sad as it all was, it couldn’t get more beautiful than it already was. with the way the bench was positioned almost directly in front of the big window that shone and showed the bustling party inside.

the pity party your father hosted yearly, this time for you.

“would you go against my father?”

it almost makes you want to laugh, a privileged story of yours where you fall for the forbidden.

it felt like seonghwa was the forbidden fruit you were never allowed near, yet you chose to be nearby. in some sick twisty way, if felt like a way to get back at your father.

you knew if anyone else had found out about this, they’d laugh and call it a ‘sad story’ and then continue on with their lives. seonghwa was the only one who affected you this much, in a way it opened your eyes.

but even on the inside, you knew no one would accept this. this taboo thing they’d call it, having a relationship between the boss and the worker. and as much as everyone else would hate it, you wouldn’t.

you shake your head, pushing your hair back and leaning back on the bench. leaning your face upwards you find yourself staring at the sky, breeze hitting your face and it makes you smile a little.

you stay still for a while and your mind automatically goes through a reel of memories.

“aren’t you supposed to my bodyguard?”

“and aren’t you supposed to be asleep?”

“call me y/n.”

“yes, ma’am.”

“you’re my bestest friend, you know?”

a sigh leaves your lips, and you reach out for your phone, unlocking it and only to be welcomed with a zoomed in photo of seonghwa standing in his bodyguard outfit.

the image alone makes you laugh through your tears, and you dial seonghwa’s number, biting down on your lip you lean back. lifting the phone to your ear, you close your eyes as the ringing echoes in the silence.

your heart rate picks up as the anticipation of hearing seonghwa’s voice increases and it’s as if right on that moment, your body jolts up when you hear his monotone voice.

“hi! this is seonghwa..” and it goes straight to voicemail.

you bite the inside of your lower lip, bringing the phone down slowly and pressing the red button before placing the phone beside you upside down.

“y/n.”

all you can do is hum, gaze looking ahead into nothing with a blank stare. that is until, footsteps walking through the grass make your ears perk up.

if this was an assassination attempt, it would’ve been successful because you did not move from your spot.

“it’s me, your fav- actually second! favorite person.”

“go away kai.”

he smiles, looking around before taking a seat beside you loudly. arm over your shoulders and a reassuring grin on his face, “what’s up!” he beams, looking all over your face.

“you didn’t like the food inside?” he asks, “they had caviar-“

“kai,” you begin, turning your head towards him and he catches the tiredness on your face. “what would you do…”

“i’d go eat fir- ow!” he whines at the slap you gave his arm, “fine, fine, shoot away.”

“what would you do if…if you were given the option to either break up or leave.”

kai smiles, the one with his cheeky dimples and he leans his head back. “i’d fight.” eyes on the sky.

“kai.”

“i mean i would!” he argues, “if that was my last resort, i’d fight for the one i love, you know?”

“as cliche as it sounds, loving someone isn’t a crime. if you love someone, why are you afraid, haven’t you heard?”

“what?”

“people can fight wars just for love,” he looks down at you, lifting his hand to pat your head twice. “look if love was a driving force, i’d have no license.”

he then turns his body towards you, “you want seonghwa more than you thought you did, so what if he’s not your dad’s ideal choice- he’s your choice isn’t he?”

but what if you’re not seonghwa’s choice?

you nod, “…but dad.”

“you know,” he shuffles on his seat, “for a moment, your dad doesn’t exist. what will stop you from him?”

you share a look with kai, swallowing before looking down. “see? no one, kill your da-“ you smack his arm again with a glare and he pokes his tongue out at you.

“seonghwa does not want anything to do with you…not anymore.”

with a sigh you pat his hand, “thanks kai,” standing up and holding your dress up. “if my dad suddenly dies, i know who did it.”

he says nothing but shoots a finger gun at you with a grin, “i’m,” you point at your house. “gonna go inside.”

“already?” he asks, looking behind you. “you don’t wanna say hi to seonghwa?”

“he’s at the countryside.” you mumble, shoulders slumping and eyes squinting at the window behind.

kai stands up, placing his on your shoulders before turning you around. leaning down and then pointing at the front door, “your boyfriends waiting outside silly.”

your eyes grow wide, heartbeat picking up as you look through the iron rods of the gate to make out a silhouette kicking rocks.

and before you know it, you’re running down the path to him. a smile on your lips growing with every step you take towards him, and when you’re finally nearing the gates, you can make his outline out much better.

he’s dressed in a regular suit, but he looks better than anyone at this party. hair slightly disheveled, tie a little loose and hands holding something.

“hwa!” you yell, catching his attention with your voice and the wave of your hand.

once his eyes fall on you running towards him, his lips crack into a smile. hand lifting automatically to wave back, “y/n!”

“hi,” you pant, stopping just before the gates that you now know is locked. “sorry..the door is locked for some reason.” you say in between catching breaths.

“hi y/n,” his voice alone makes you melt, your eyes look at him and they almost tear up. “you look stunning.” he manages to let out, looking at you up and down he wished the door wasn’t dividing you two, so that he could at least hold you.

“why aren’t you inside?”

you smile, “because…i saw you here.”

he returns a soft smile before shoving something in his pocket and walking closer, but since the gates were closed, he could only walk until his chest hit the gates. instead, he extends his hand out for you to take.

which you do, with an excitement because after the talk with your dad and not seeing seonghwa, something in you wanted his reassurance.

“can we talk?”

your smile falters a little, holding his hand. “o-of course.”

“actually, u-uh, at first.” he fishes through his pocket and pulls a small rectangular box out. you’re unable to see it properly due to the streetlight being away from where you stood and the front gates light that kept flickering. “i got this for you.”

he extends the box towards you from the slim space between the iron rods, you reach out for it with a smile and opening it gently. your mouth parts in a gasp, “oh my god, seonghwa…”

he smiles under the light, “do you like it?”

you nod, looking down at the box you held that had a small silver chain in it. a small ruby red bead as it’s pendant, “i love it! are you kidding?!”

“where…how did you get it?”

he rubs the back of his neck, eyes not meeting yours in what you can only is assume is his shyness. “i saw it on my way back here…i was a little late wasn’t i? you’ve bought me plenty of stuff..so it was only right for me to get you something.”

“you didn’t have to,” you mumble, fingers caressing the chain. and then you look up, “what did you want to talk about?”

“ah,” his face drops, eyes meeting the ground.

“i want to talk about us.”

you smile a little, closing the box before giving him your attention. “of course, w…what did you want to talk about?”

“y/n, don’t you think,” he swallows. “we…we should just remain as friends?”

“w-what?” your voice cracks.

his eyes remain glued to the ground, “we shouldn’t be together.”

“it’s dangerous for us to be together.” he mumbles, fingers now wrapping around the rods tighter at the silence. “if anyone found out about us, you could be in danger.”

“did my dad tell you to say all of this?” you ask, feeling your stomach churn. “you don’t have to listen to him seonghwa-“

“no.” he answers, “this is what i think...what we have should’ve never happened in the first place.”

“we are two different people, classes, professions, personalities…everything!”

“why does that matter...” you whisper, “why does it all matter when i don’t care for it, w-why?”

“i’m sorry but,” he looks up, eyes meeting your teary ones and he hears a crack in his voice. “it does matter, when i’m someone you shouldn’t even be friends with, you’re meant for the riches..we aren’t meant to be.”

you feel as if the world has slipped from under your, trying to understand what’s happening around you or what he’s saying because it all sounds unreal.

“i thought that maybe this would last a month,” he whispers, his knuckles growing whiter at the grip he has on. “but it’s only grown ever since.”

“i-i never expected us to go this far, with each day that does by...i can’t help but think we’re not meant to be.” he mumbles, and you feel your heart drop to your stomach, “you’re my boss’s daughter and i’m just worker.”

“seo-“

“i can’t live up to your standards y/n,” your tears that welled up in your eyes are now rolling down your cheeks. “i don’t have a proper house, i don’t even have enough money to keep you happy…”

he looks at you, his own eyes glassy. “i have nothing y/n, i’m nothing.”

“are you done?” you ask, voice just above a whisper and his heart sinks at how frail you sound.

“y/-“

“you’re everything to me.” you whisper, your hand reaching out to hold his, tears streaming down your face. “you’ve been more than anything to me, i don’t care for what you do for living or if you have the money or not, i love you god damnit!”

he clenches his jaw, eyes wide at your words. “you’ve been there for all the times i needed you, you know me more than i know myself! how can you say that..seonghwa please, please don’t listen to my dad.”

he hears you sniffle and looks away, “y/n, please.”

“no seonghwa,” you say, voice shaky and low. “i..i thought you liked me for me.”

“you out of everyone knows how much i hate when my dad controls everything about me,” you inch closer, eyes on him. “so..why? is it because he did everything for you?”

“n-“

“is it because you can’t go against him?”

“i..i,”

“i, what!” you raise your voice, “i don’t believe anything you’re saying!”

“…i like someone else.” he says, voice nothing but a whisper.

“w-what?”

he nods, eyes on the ground. “i like someone else y/n.."

what he says is something you wished he never said, maybe even kept it as a secret. “i don’t trust you.” you bite back, and you wish he’d look you in the eye, just once to say he’s lying. “you’re lying and you know it.”

but instead, he shakes his head, “i’m not lying y/n.” and it makes you swallow the warm, painful lump in your throat.

“you’re not even looking me in the eye,” you whisper, “please don’t do this seonghwa…we’re so good together, you know that too.”

“we were never good together,” he replies, running a hand down his face and you know he’s biting back tears with the way he bites his lips. “i found someone who matches me.”

“someone who isn’t like you.”

you shut your eyes, jaw clenching and unclenching as a pounding headache begins to from in your head with all the tears framing your face.

the wind now feels more colder, it feels as if it’s slapping you in your face. your hair stands moving along it as you listen to his calming voice tell you stuff you’ve never wanted to hear.

“call me y/n.”

“yes ma’am.”

“s-someone who matches me well.”

“i was going to ask if you were dating anyone.”

“why?”

“i don’t like to share.”

“someone quieter, not loud or annoying-“

“…you found me annoying?” you ask, and he inhales sharply at that. “and loud?”

“go on,” you urge, a small smile on your face despite the obvious. “what else did you find me?”

“i-i didn’t mean it like that-“

“what else is she like?” you swallow, “quieter? has more manners? isn’t childish? hates the riches? hates flowers? is the better version of me?”

“she’s everything i’m not, am i right?” you ask, hand falling to your sides. when he doesn’t respond, a bitter smile makes its way in your lips. “…hm, then she must be great.”

“y/n,” he whispers, and you take a step back, the action makes his heartbeat ring in his ears. “i didn-“

“didn’t what?” you ask, face holding no expression. “didn’t want to hurt me?”

when he nods you breathe loudly through your nose, a hand running through your hair frustratedly. “you know dad didn’t want me to be with you…” you begin, “i told him otherwise, he said you never wanted anything to do with me..i said i wanted to hear that from yo-“

“i don’t want anything to do with you.” he whispers, and you hear the way he says that. full of nothing, no emotion or anything.

you smile despite the tears blurring your vision, “right.”

it goes quiet for a while, just the two of you standing in silence. him on the other side of your house while you stand behind the gates, it described you two perfectly.

seonghwa and you were two different people who never stood on the same level, everything your dad said echoed in your mind.

“that’s their job.”

“they’re not on our level.”

you want to yell and scream and cry at him, tell him that’s not the case. to beg him that, that’s not the case.

“d-did you mean everything you said?” you ask, in some way hopefully that he’s lying to you, that he’d tell you the truth.

“everything.” he says.

you nod shakily, exhaling before looking over your shoulder. “every…every date meant nothing?”

“n-nothing.”

“every gift?”

he nods.

“and that red pendant?”

he nods again, though, slower.

“okay,” you say, nodding before turning around. back facing him and it’s one thing you thought you’d never do or be driven to a point where you had to.

you begin to walk away from, leaving him standing behind the gates. eyes on the ground and never lifting up, even if he wanted to. hiding his own emotions he turned around, back pressed against the iron gates.

“take a picture with me then…because i want to have a memory of you.“

“well, it’s not like i’m going anywhere, i’m still here, but! since i’m really nice we’ll take one.”

“a memory,” he scoffs to himself, head leaning back on the gates as he closes his eyes. “a stupid memory.”

five years later.

the day you’d come back was one your father truly looked forward too, with the tearful sending that was laced with hatred and anger. he wished for your safety above all, and on top of the above all, he wished for the safety of everyone inside this house.

those who now scurry around cleaning the house meticulously, mumbling to each other in panic, hurry and almost a fearful turn.

it’s like everyone knew when the announcement of you would echo across this building, a wave of silence would follow.

a silence full of fear.

with the way everything happened years ago, they knew you wouldn’t return the same.

maybe that’s what their fear was.

“i told you to not go in her room!” your father yells, a cough following suit.

“y-yes, sir!”

with a temporary grim on his face, he walks around, hands behind his back as he watches the cleaning, redecorating, rebuilding of his house. in his heart, preparing for you to grace his eyes.

“yunho, mingi,” he turns around to face the new set of guards that were recently employed. “have everyone line up by the entrance tomorrow, put on your best suits as well.”

“we will sir,” they both say in sync, bowing to their boss that is until, mingi, the dark blue haired one pops a question. “but why the suits, sir?”

“my daughter is picky.” your father answers, swallowing a little.

they both bow once again, “we’ll keep that in mind, enjoy your time with miss tonight.”

“oh and,” he stops them, “send seonghwa to my office.”

“we’re very excited to have you back, boss is putting on his best for you!” the driver says, looking in the rear mirror to see you staring out the window. “w-“

“put the partition up.”

he stiffens, swallowing before complying and putting the divider up. isolating you to the backseat and him to the driver side, your eyes meet his as the wall levels up before they move out the window.

coincidentally at the moment where your house was in view, your eyes land on the ever so prestige estate that you left years back. before you used to have a love-hate relationship with this place, where you were sheltered and hidden away from everything.

where you experienced your first and last of everything.

now coming back to it felt, empty but comforting. comforting that you were finally home after years of being lost and thrown into the world you never wanted.

when you left, you were devastated because of everything. you never wanted to come back, never wanted face anyone. but you knew you had to come back, so you became the person you never wanted to become in the first place.

opening the door to your maybach, you step out. your heel clacking against the pavement as you do so, grabbing your bag you shut the door behind to look at your house.

a scoff leaves your lips as you look over it, eyes wandering to every corner until they stop at your balcony. and you remember how you used to sneak out nights through there, falling and hurting yourself one second and the other being bombarded with the dogs.

you then turn around to look at the iron gates and your smile drops.

“d-did you mean everything you said?”

“everything.”

“ma’am, your father’s waiting inside.” you snap back to reality and inhale, “this way.”

with every step you take towards the entrance, your heartbeat increases. mentally preparing yourself to see everything and everyone after years.

but when your eyes land at your living room, they widen in disgust as you step inside your place, seeing the outrageous decorations hanging around at your arrival. “w-what’s going on?” you ask the driver who looked at it all with the same look as you.

“i…i don’t know ma’am,” he stutters, and you shake your head, “but your father,” he points to your right. “this way.”

you nod, following behind him while your eyes look all over. as if they’re trying to find someone while you heart wants you to look away in case you do see that someone, but you’re glad you only see a handful of maids working around.

who, at your appearance gasp and bow. “welcome back ma’am!”

to which you’d respond with a small smile, ducking your head down and following the driver who walked you through your own home. what a day it has come you think.

“he’s sitting here for the day,” you smile and bow at the man who now leaves you alone, standing inside your dad’s outdoor study.

“y/n, my dear, you’re back.”

you hear his raspy voice tickle your ear and it’s been years since you’ve heard him, sure the occasional phone calls were present, but you’d hang up whenever you’d hear anyone else in the background.

“father.” you say, hands in front of you. watching him spin on his swivel chair, dressed in hoodie that says something about your brother’s university. you find your cat nestled just beside him on the cat bed and it makes you smile a little.

“y/n,” he lifts his arms in the air, getting up from his beloved chair and walking towards you with a smile.

you manage to smile a little, retuning his hug half-heartedly before he offers you to take a seat, which you do as if you haven’t been on a flight where you sat for hours straight.

“how have you been?” he asks, pouring you tea from the fine china set you know your mom bought at an auction.

“good.” you keep it short, eyes wandering the sunroom study of his. “did you renovate it?”

“you know your mom and her tendencies,” he replies, sliding you the cup which you quietly take.

“where is she?”

“yearly trip to the maldives with her friends,” you nod, impressed by it slightly, maybe even jealous that she gets vacations while you stay here and deal with your dad.

“how have you been y/n,” he asks again, getting comfortable in his chair as you cross your legs, stirring the tea slightly.

“i already answered that, father.”

he nods, “are you still upset?”

“over what?” you sip, eyes falling over him.

“five y-“

“yes,” you respond quickly, “very, actually.”

you hear him sigh as you sip on the tea more, raising your pinky. “right, well, your rooms the same as before.”

you nod, placing the cup down and facing him. “you’ll be looking over the guards tomorrow.”

“for?”

“to have your own private ones,” he says, coughing a little. “like i did. you’re now what i used to be so it only makes sense for you to have everything now.”

“everything?” you tick an eyebrow, “i have a request father.”

“go on.”

“please stop controlling me from now on,” you mumble, “i am capable enough to make my decisions, in fact, i was since the beginning.”

“as you wish.”

“don’t question my decisions,” you stand up, bowing your head. “and for the guards, i don’t need them.”

“y/n.” ah, there it was, that tone he uses on you when he’s about to scold you. “my last decision in your life is for you to have private guards.”

“the last decision of yours ruined me father,” you say, voice monotone. “and i don’t wish for it to happen again.”

“this decision won’t y/n,” he argues, thought his voice doesn’t raise. “you’re going to have new guards, and that is done. tomorrow meet me at the foyer, everyone will be there.”

everyone.

you scoff, “quit it dad.”

your dad didn’t quit, in fact he pestered you into following him out to the foyer. after him basically dragging you out of your room, which one, you barely got to step a foot in and two, barely got you enough sleep.

“can we hurry this up?” you ask, irritated already with waking up early since your jet lag is still so strong. “i need a few hours to myself.”

“hm,” he says, walking a few steps ahead before pausing and you feel your heartbeat begin to accelerate. “everyone, meet my daughter y/n.”

“it’s lovely meeting you ma’am.”

“i’m to be by your side whenever you go out at all times, it’s nice to meet you ma’am.”

you watch them all bow in unison, and you give a small, awkward smile. ignoring the obvious faces from the past who look at you with shiny eyes, which almost make you crack.

“as you all know," your father announces and you stand behind him, feeling stares burn through you. “my daughter here requires a private unit to be by her at all times, i have seen your progresses over the month and selected a few of you alr-“

“i’ll decide my own guard’s father,” you interrupt him, making the hall get quiet. “at least, let me do that.”

he gives you a quick look before nodding, and you come to stand in front of the two rows of guards. “being my guard isn’t easy.” you mumble, “and if you’re not up for it, you can leave to your daily routines.”

you look around and when no one moves, you smirk. “alright,” you look to your left, extending your hand out to your dad. “their files.”

“here,” he grins, pointing behind him and you see a mountain of them being held by a worker.

just the sight of it gives you a headache, “forget it.” and you walk down the line.

eyes squinty as everyone straightens up, standing tall and feet apart, hands neatly folded behind their back. your heels click against the marble flooring as you walk down the first line, eyeing every single one of them who either display no expression or get taken aback.

“you,” you say out loud, pointing your hand at the guy with blond hair standing at the very end. “come here.”

“sweetheart, he’s a newbie.” your father whispers to you and your eyes keep looking at the blondie walking to you with a shy smile.

“that’s alright dad,” you reply, eyeing the man up and down. “people can learn along the way.”

but there’s a man standing at the far end of the second line, gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw. that’s all too familiar to you, from the black outfit, the sharp undercut and the annoyingly stunning side profile that makes you want to yell.

though he grits his jaw, he catches onto the new you. how you’ve changed, no longer the bright and cheery y/n but a colder, monotone-voiced y/n. and he can’t help but blame himself for it.

“it’s like you’d be protecting him more than he’d be protecting you.” he whispers, eyes forming into glares as he watches the newbie walk towards you, knowing he isn’t half as qualified to be your guard and knowing you’re outright ignoring him.

“name?”

“choi san.”

you nod, “good, you’re hired.” and you turn around, “any objections, father?”

“y/n-“

“i object.”

your eyes immediately find your dads when you hear the new yet familiar voice, “i do too-“

“my decision is made, choi san-“ you look over your shoulder and you make an eye contact with two tall guys at the end. “and you two twin towers at the end, you’re hired.”

“sir, if i m-“

you lift a hand, “ah, my decision is mine.” and you look back at the front. “anything else?”

“i’d like to object.” this time you hear footsteps coming closer and it makes your heart drop to your stomach.

you feel a presence behind you before you hear that increasingly familiar deep voice.

“the three you have chosen, ma’am.” you shut your eyes at the familiar voice filling in your ears. his presence behind you, with that deep, soothing, and calm voice that now sounds rigid and demanding. “won’t be able to guard you, it’s like you’d be protecting the guard more than they would.”

“the new recruit line is barely halfway through basic training ma’am,” god, that ma’am. “i strongly advise picking someone else as their skill sets are nowhere near qualified to be guards right now.”

you raise an eyebrow and slowly open your eyes, seeing everyone in the lines stiffen up. and for the first time, you turn around to look that voice in the eye and dare question. “and you are?”

jaw locked, hair brushed back with one strand falling over his forehead, eye that darkened ever so slightly, hands neatly behind his back. just being in his presence makes your breathing waver but looking directly in his eyes makes you want to cry.

“park seonghwa.”

“seonghwa,”

“seong! hwa!”

“hwa!”

“seong-seong!”

“and who do you advise i pick?” you ask, voice shaky.

“i have almost a decade of experience working under your father and being a protector of your family...” he inhales, patting his chest and you catch the sight of a black band on his ring finger, and it makes you look away. “and a few of those years were as your own bodyguard, ma’am.”

“and?”

“i believe my skills are far better than anyone here, it’ll only be more advantageous to have me as your bodyguard...” he pauses, looking over your face for a second longer. “again.”

“my bodyguard?” you ask, eyebrows shooting to your forehead. “and yet i was still in life threatening positions with you, wasn’t i?”

“i-“

“zip it.” you look behind him, eyes forming into slits. “you three, office now.”

“yes ma’am.”

“y/n, seonghwa was right!” you hum mindlessly, playing with the food on your plate.

“i agree.” you roll your eyes at kai’s appearance, sitting on the big dining table with you and your dad and two cooks at the far end.

you then turn to your left, “you’re suddenly praising him?” you pique, looking down at your dad with a suspicious look. “wasn’t he your low life?”

“you called him a low life!?” kai yells, his plate clacking as he stood up and you wave him off.

your dad grows quiet at that, “…i didn’t mean to say that y/n.”

you stop midway, “really?” you ask, “i don’t trust you.”

“there’s a lot of things i regret doing y/n,” he says, placing his fork and knife down. “but i had reasons for it.”

“and what were they?”

you dad looks at kai and he takes the memo to leave, although, a little late, but he does. leaving you and him alone in the room, him at to your left. just the talk with him has a sinking feeling growing in your stomach, jaw clenching and unclenching before exhaling.

“for you to take over his family, you needed no distractions.” he begins, hands folding in front of him. “and if you kept them, my family would’ve been gone.”

“distractions?” you mock. "sending me to your fucking training academies where they beat the shit out of you? that? that’ll help me take care of this family?”

“as bad as it sounds, it works y/n.” he explains, looking over your face for a few moments and seeing a small scar under your eye and dread washes over him. “i was sent there, it worked for me- i had to send you there.”

“or you’d send your youngest,” you bite back, a slight tick in your jaw. “but i wouldn’t have let that happen. even if i have stated how rotten your business is and how much i hate it, i couldn’t escape it.”

no matter how much you’d want to blame your father for everything, you knew he did it for you. but you still have bitter feelings about the way he did it all, yet you’re unable to tell him. being rasied in this environment, you were bound to do this.

“i still can’t and will not drag him in it,” you refer to your sibling, because he gets scared shitless from the sight of ladybugs. you couldn’t possibly see him fighting for his life. “he’ll never be involved in this business, no one after me will take this place.”

“i will not operate this mafia like you did,” he nods, “if i have the chance to end this, i will and you will not stop me.”

“i won’t.”

“i want to end this.” you mumble, jaw relaxing and eyes falling over your father who looks at you with regret, maybe even shame if you look in too deeply. “i will end this mafia, i want a normal life.”

“you wouldn’t have gone if i never did that y/n..” you scoff.

“i’m sorry for all that y/n,” he mumbles, placing his hand on top of yours. “there is nothing i can say but sorry, if i hadn’t done this, i would’ve lost you all.”

“and to keep you, my family alive.” he taps your hand twice, "i can do anything.”

“ev-“

“even send you there, yes.”

a scoff leaves your lips, “that’s a really shitty excuse, dad.”

he smiles and for the first time since you’ve arrived it feels genuine, “well now you can beat me up for it, pow pow!”

“stop, ew.” you cringe, and he chuckles, drowning down water as you shake your head.

“and what about seonghwa,” he asks the second his glass touches the table.

“nothing about him.” your tone is dismissive, and he picks up on it, growing a little because seeing this side of you, he can’t help but blame himself for that.

but he knows if anyone was to bring your old side back, it’ll only be in the hands of seonghwa. who, he knew, would give him trouble one day.

“you’re not going to meet him or talk to him?” the elder presses further, mind spewing up some way to get you two to talk or exchange a hi’s or hello’s or how was your days.

“no.” you respond, placing the cutlery down and promptly being reminded of that ring on his finger.

“i like someone else.”

“he offered to be your guard again,” you hum, eyes on the plate with an empty expression. “i agree with him, he is qualified and has been your bodyguard before too-“

“dad,” you interrupt, pushing your chair back and tapping your feet on the ground. “you know exactly what happened, what you did and how it went down.”

“but you should talk to him,” he says, eyes following you. “he’s…he’s got a lot to say-“

“i’m not interested in talking to him or having him as my bodyguard again.”

and with that you take your leave, walking out the door with shaky hands and when you begin to walk down the hallway. you abruptly stop at the scene of seonghwa and kai standing in front of you, their heads turning to you in sync.

“y/n.”

“ma’am.”

“i told you my name’s y/n.”

“goodnight.” you mumble, eyes looking everywhere else but the larger man in a suit.

“y/n!” kai calls out, a small smile on his face as he watches you try and escape this situation knowing full well that’s the last thing you’d want.

“how about,” he looks at seonghwa, who’s eyes never leave you even if you don’t look at him. “you two old friends catch up?”

“uh, kai i-i have to leave,” you stated, giving kai a nasty glare. “i’m tired and i need sleep.”

“just ten minutes.”

you freeze at his voice, calm yet eager. “can we talk just for ten minutes?”

kai gives you an encouraging smile and you turn to him, stopping when your gazes meet.

his eyes still looked the same, wide, shiny, and endearing. the ones that still made you want to run in his arms, stare into for hours while he holds you to his chest and nuzzles into you.

“i..i don’t have time right now,” you answer, looking at kai tight smile. “tomorrow, let’s do that tomorrow.

you knew you shouldn’t have come back because all you see is seonghwa everywhere, you had hoped he quit his job, so you didn’t have to face him, and he didn’t have to work under your dad.

every time you walk down a hallway, you’re always greeted with him walking past you. and it reminds you of all the times you had been with him, whether it be chasing him down hallways or to walk behind him whining something about the defense lesson.

at that time, you would’ve never thought any of this could be possible, he didn’t think it would be either.

he didn’t think not seeing you every day for the past five years would hurt him as much as it did, or how not seeing or hearing you would become a routine he’d have to force himself to fit in.

so, when he was called in by your father in his office, the first thing he remembers hearing is. “you better up your trainings seonghwa.”

and he knew you were returning.

as happy and overjoyed he was to see you, he was equally desperate to tell you the truth. but he knew you’d never want to see him, that’s what terrified him. to become nothing but a memory to you, a memory who never got to explain itself.

So, he interrupted your hiring procedure or whatever that was, outing himself as the right person to guard you for as long as he can. after all, he was meant to be your right-hand man at all times.

not only did he do that so that you’d look at him in the eye or speak to him or reject his duties, but he did it because he couldn’t imagine anyone else besides him to stand by you.

and maybe get a chance to explain himself, but all he’s got his avoided stares, small talks, dismissing him and pretending he doesn’t exist.

as much as it breaks him, he knows he deserves it. all the times you’ve ignored him, he can’t be upset because at least, you’re there, at least, you’re in front of his eyes.

but maybe his hopes of reconciling with you won’t come true since you’ve dismissed any of his advances of him doing his duty or having a civil conversation with him.

“yunho, where’s the car?” you ask with a raised eyebrow, tapping your feet on the pavement outside your house.

“i-i, it should be here ma’am!”

“we’ve been waiting for half an hour, jeong yunho.” you grit, “i have places to be and you had one job to do, right?”

yunho bows down quickly, “i’m so sorry, this all is new to me so i got the wrong car-“

but he’s interrupted by the loud honking of a black range rover pulling into the roundabout before he can explain himself, catching you off-guard. “is that the one you got?” you ask, eyes on the car that comes to stop in front of you.

“n-no, ma’am.”

and before you’re about to respond, the front door to the car opens and out comes seonghwa with his dark sunglasses, prim and proper outfit, and a smile you’ve missed.

“the car, ma’am.” he says with a bow of his head, and you swallow, giving yunho a look who only returns a small smile.

“i’ll take the other one,” you say, taking a few steps away from the two but only to be stopped by seonghwa’s loud voice.

“ma’am, please.” your grip your bag tighter at that. “you’ll be late for your meeting, please take the car.”

he watched your back turn to him and swallowed, head down and hands behind his back. “i’ll let yunho driv-“

“i hope you know the address.” he hears you say, walking past him and he pauses for a second. eyes blinking repeatedly at what he heard that is until yunho pats his chest with a cheeky smile and a wink.

“i-i do!”

when you told seonghwa you’d sit down and have a talk with him, you didn’t expect yourself to be this nervous to be in his presence. it felt as if every emotion you had felt in the past five years hit you like a truck.

with the constant messages from kai encouraging you by sending emojis and memes and gifs that only made you want to hide from seonghwa.

So, standing outside the door to where he stood made butterflies sprout in your stomach, it felt as if you were seeing him again for the first time.

your hand on the doorknob stays still for a while before you inhale and twist it, opening the door and immediately you’re faced with seonghwa standing at the far side of the room, back facing the door while he looks out the balcony.

you swallow before entering, closing the door behind before making your way towards him. and it’s as if your memory became a film, it played out the moments you had with him.

“i’m park seonghwa, your new bodyguard from now on. i’m to be by your side whenever you go out at all times, it’s nice to meet you ma’am.”

“my names y/n not ma’am!”

“you know they should keep you in museums.”

“you’re cute.”

“you’re so pretty…i can’t believe you’re mine.”

“i like someone els-“

“y/n.”

you snap out of your thoughts, gaze falling on him with a soft smile. “seonghwa.”

his lips pull into a smile, and he gestures for you to take a seat at the couch set in front of him, you nod and take a seat. he follows suit and sits opposite you.

for the first few minutes, none of you know what to say. you’re looking everywhere but him but he’s looking at you as if you’re the only person to ever walk this earth.

he looks at you with fond stare, one that studies you with a soft look. he fiddles with his fingers and inhales before finally speaking. “h-how are you?”

your heart skips a beat, “good.”

“it’s raining,” he points, and you nod. “your favoutite.”

“i hate the rain.” you respond, and he stops.

“b-but you loved rain?”

you grit your jaw, “i loved a lot of things.” you answer, alluding to the past.

“i’m sorry.” he says right after, head down and eyes shut. “i’ve been wanting to apologize for everything that happened.”

“for what?” you ask, obviously knowing exactly what happened but you want him to say it to you.

he lifts his head up a little and you spot the way the glint in his eyes change for a split second, embarrassment or even maybe even shame but definitely remorse.

“i found someone who matches me.”

“someone who isn’t like you.”

“for dumping me?” you ask, voice shaky and eyes slightly teary. “or saying all of that with no thought of how it’ll affect me?”

“someone quieter, not loud or annoying-“

“…you found me annoying? and loud?”

“i..” he begins, hands curling into fists as he inhales and exhales. “i want to apologize for pushing you away the way i did, i..i didn’t mean anything i said that day y/n please trust me-“

“you weren’t held on gunpoint seonghwa,” you whisper, “you could’ve not said anything.”

“i was told to break it off with you.” he swallows, and you look down. “so that you’d leave.”

he continues, “when…when you were at my place, your dad had come to meet me and i never told you about it.”

“join me for a walk, seonghwa.”

“y-yes sir.” he says, looking over his shoulder and then on the ground before his eyes widen at the sight of your shoes beside his.

nevertheless, he follows your father outside his complex. following the shorter man who’s stride rivaled power, someone who he always respected above anyone else.

“do you like my daughter, seonghwa?”

his head snaps up, “what?”

“you heard me,” his boss says, “are you dating her?“

when he gave no response, your father already knew. with the way his men are everywhere, this would’ve never slipped past him. how could it? you two went out to places every week with each other, in areas where only sketchy people would be found. it’s no wonder he knows.

“i’m extremely sorry sir,” he says, “y-you can fire me or cut my hands like you said..but i do like your daughter, quite a lot sir.”

“how much should i pay you to break it off then?”

his lips part in surprise, “s-sir?”

“a million or a two? or a blank check?”

“i..i’m sorry but i can’t accept any of that sir.” he replies, a frown on his face that he can’t hide. “you’ve known me since i was a child, i’m not attached to money like that— i have never been.”

“i have always trusted and respected your decisions but…as much as i hate to disrespect you..” he says, “i will not break the relationship i have with your daughter, sir.”

“i will fire you.”

he then stands tall, “then please do so.”

“yet you still did it.” he hears you whisper, and he swears he heard a crack of his heart. "you still followed him; you couldn’t go against him no matter seonghwa!“

“tell her you want nothing to do with her, seonghwa.” he says. “that’s the only way she’d leave.”

“sir, that’s-“

“i know, but i have no option.” He looks down, “i can’t let her fall behind because of you.”

“i wanted you to!” you burst out, catching him by surprise. “i thought at least you’d be on my side! we could’ve done it together; we could’ve gone against him together!”

you then stand up, running a hand down your face irritatedly. “gosh this is so stupid, it wasn’t even real right?” you ask, glancing at his hunched figure and your eyes go straight to his hands and spit that ring. “i wanted it to be so real, because i loved you seonghwa.”

“it was a silly little fling,” you whisper, “right? where we just hide behind the doors and do our thing and then break it off because you found someone else!”

you nod, “right, that’s what it was…but i loved you..and you didn’t, and that’s what hurt me the most.”

“y/n…”

“call me ma’am.” you whisper, nodding to yourself and taking a few steps back.

“i didn’t care that you called me loud or annoying.. or the class difference between us.” he lifts his head up, seeing you take slow steps back away from him and for a second it hits him. “i wanted you to be with me..despite what my father had told you.”

“i knew he’d come to ask you all of this,” he hears you say, “which is why i kept telling you to not listen to him, to maybe..just maybe go against him for once and break your good boy image.”

“i just wanted to have you.”

it hits him that he’s about to lose you again, for the second time.

and it feels so real that his heart drops when you turn your back to him.

“i quit.”

you stop, your sniffles ringing the room as you use the back of your hand to wipe your tears away.

“the next day after we split,” you shut your eyes, “i quit working under your dad, in fact, me, hongjoong, yeosang and wooyoung all did.”

“what is this seonghwa?”

“my resignation, sir.” he announced, bowing at his waist. “it’s been a pleasure working for you but it’s time i quit.“

“i couldn’t live like that,” he mumbles, rising to his feet and taking a few steps closer to you. Eyes softening and heart sinking. “so right after i quit, i went to look for you.”

“but i left that same night.”

“but you left.”

“i didn’t know until your dad told me, how you were sent away for god knows how long.” he whispers, voice cracking and you hear him sniffle. “and i didn’t know when you’d come back…how you’d be like or if you’d even want to look at me.”

“if you quit working, why are you still here?” you ask, heart beating fast and brain spiralling.

“..because i was told you’ll be coming back.” his whispers tug at your heart, “and i couldn’t afford to miss it. i couldn’t let someone else take my spot.”

“i spent the last five years, trying to reach out to you through mails but i didn’t know your address.” he explains, “i looked for your number but you changed it, i kept looking and looking but then i realized wherever you were, you’d be safer there than here.”

“i wanted you to be safe at the end of the day,” he takes a few steps closer until his front hits your back. “even if it meant breaking up with you.”

“because i loved you,” he says, voice a whisper but a gentle one. his hand slowly reaches for yours from the back, “..and have for the past five years and still counting.”

“you may have said it first,” he holds your hand gently, his larger palm fitting with yours perfectly. “but i wish i did, so at least you wouldn’t hate me.”

“i don’t hate you,” you sigh.

“but what’s the point of it all now?” you ask, turning around to look at his tear-stained face. you reach out for his hand and lift it up beside your face, pointing at his finger. “you’re already married.”

“all of this..” you shake his hand all while he stares at you with wide eyes, “it doesn’t matter anymore.”

he shakes his head, “it does y/n, you’re m-“

“are you going to cheat on your wife now?” you ask, eyes blown wide despite the tears welling up in them. “you’re married and yet you’re here professing your love for me while she wai-“

“-y/n.”

“no!” you stop him, letting go of his hand to take a step back. “are you really go-“

“y/n,” he stammers, trying to hold onto your escaping hand. “y/n, y/n, listen to me-“

“i’m not going to do this seonghwa,” you stumble back, hands in the air and eyes on the ground.

but before you have the chance to take another step back or say anything else. his hand reaches out to grab you by the wrist, abruptly pulling you to him.

a squeak leaves your lips when you’re jerked forward, your face meeting his chest and his hands wrapping around your waist, face buried in your neck.

“i’m not married,” he whispers, and your hands fall to your sides, a tired sigh leaves you, closing your eyes and burying yourself in his chest.

“what about that ring then?” you ask, voice dropping to lower octave.

he smiles and you can hear it, “you don’t remember when we bought matching rings at that diner?”

your face drops at that memory, “you still- that’s that?!” he nods and holds you closer.

“i had it on the past five years,” he mumbles, tapping your back twice with a smile that almost heals you.

“you’re crazy.”

he hums, and it’s one of those low and deep ones. “says you.”

his perfume wafts in your nose and for a second you find yourself losing in him. having have finally held him after years and feeling the comfort you missed, your hands lift to wrap them around his waist.

“you once asked me if i would go against your father,” he mumbles, “it took me a while to answer you but, yes, I can.”

“i never was, no one existed that i could match with better than you.” his deep low voice that causes your stomach to swoop.

“what about the one you told me about years back?” you mumble, pulling back to hold his stare.

“he shakes his head, and you slap his chest with a frown, “you lied over that too?!”

“i’m sorry!” he’s quick to say, worry written all over his face.

but before he continues the door the room bursts open, making the two of you jump and snap your heads back with wide eyes.

“t-that was us! all of it!” wooyoung yells, hands in the air while yeosang holds him back.

“he’s right!” hongjoong screams from the back, hands curled into fists as if ready to fight someone. “we did it for him! don’t blame him!”

“sorry i was watching a show and the inspo hit!”

“y-you guys are here too?!” you say out loud, turning around fully to spot them properly.

it feels like a deja vu, from the very first time you met them to now.

how all of them are still the same, though a little older and definitely not working under your father. more free and smiley and loud and chaotic than before.

seonghwa’s hands leave your waist and he comes to stand by you, one hand sticking in his pocket while his gaze flickers between you and the three standing up front.

a soft smile on his lips before he looks at the trio in front of him, shaking his head and sheepishly coming to hold your hand in his. caressing the top of it with his thumb gently, the action making you look at him.

“i hate you,” you whisper but the smile on your face says the opposite.

“hey, you all.” seonghwa yells from beside you, head noticing them to turn around and look away. it’s not an action they get at first, but when they do their eyes widen and lift up their thumbs.

“what wh-“

“wooyoung.”

and when they do, seonghwa spins you to him and locks his lips with yours immediately. surprising you and muffling your gasp with his lips, arms snaking around you, and he holds you impossibly close to him. as if you’d vanish in thin air.

your hands fly from your sides to his face, cupping his softer cheeks and smiling against the kiss all while your eyes drop fat tears, he can’t help but chuckle at in between the kiss. whispering ‘i’m sorry’s’ between the kiss while you nodded.

he pulls back to leans his forehead on yours, staring at you with a look that made you look away. “do you still hate me?”

you nod as he wipes the water around your eyes. “maybe a little less than two minutes ago.”

he ticks an eyebrow up, “oh?”

“mhm,” you smile.

he leans closer so that the tips of your noses touch. "how about now?”

“a point five difference maybe?” he smirks.

“can we look now?”

“look where?”

you and seonghwa never pushed each other so fast at that new voice joining all of you, you recognize it as your fathers, and he recognizes it as terror.

“s-sir!”

“dad!”

“good? morning?” he says, face twisted in confusion as every single one of you try to find the words to speak.

"it’s actually nighttime sir,” wooyoung informs, “so, you should say good night.”

you bite a laugh back at the way your dad frowns and how wooyoung immediately gets on his knees to apologize.

and you find yourself leaning on seonghwa, linking your arm with his and he can’t help but break out into a wide smile. his heart fluttering at the sight of it all, you beside him and wooyoung getting disciplined.

and then your dad turns to you two, before you’d move away from seonghwa but now you stay. keeping the stare with your dad who looks at the way you two stood with a small smile, “y/n, hasn’t seonghwa told you yet?”

your eyebrows pull together at that, “tell me what?” looking at seonghwa.

“ah, right.”

at that, seonghwa let’s go of your hand. stepping back and standing tall, a small smirk on his face before he bends at his waist to bow at you.

“i’m park seonghwa, your new bodyguard,” he looks up and winks, “it’s nice to be back.”

taglist : @hybed ;; @idiomaticpunk ;; @marsophilia ;;@seonghwanotes ;; @hwazoned ;; @xirenex ;; @bestboiericsohn ;; @yunhosleftpinky ;; @pshwaa ;; @diorwoo ;; @in-san-ity ;; @lurniere ;; @cupcakes-n-coffee ;; @tohokuu ;; @cityhrj ;; @serialee ;; @hhj-00 ;; @rielleluvs ;; @todorokiskitten ;; @talkbykhalid ;; @treasure-hwa ;; @atinyteez ;; @luvhaos ;; @thiccseokmin ;; @dreamycomets ;; @vitaminkel-c ;; @rdiamond2727 ;; @ot7girl18 ;; @sanshineeeeee ;; @enivivs ;; @littleninja97 ;; @takoyakibinnie ;; @hwaist ;; @sweetteez ;; @rainteez02 ;; @jeongwangjessmina ;; @hongism ;; @atozfic ;; @astrojoong ;; @woahhwa

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the-travelling-witch · 7 months

Text

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄

summary: just some short and sweet cuddling headcanons

pairings: mammon :: belphie :: barbatos :: dantalion :: valefar (my ocs) x gn! reader

warnings: only me playing favourites again ♡ + one teeny tiny allusion to lesson 16

obey me! masterlist || similar post: kiss me more

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍

After your first week in the Devildom, Mammon’s understanding of personal space is as follows: His personal space is his and your personal space is also his. The rest of the brothers love to poke fun at him for it but he’s glued to your side now, throwing an arm around your shoulder or using your head as an armrest whenever he sees fit.

So it should come as no surprise that, once he basically moves into your room after making a pact with you, he’s going to cuddle up to you every chance he gets. In his defence, this is most likely unintentional, seeing as Mammon nearly flings himself out of bed at the realisation that you had been leaning on his shoulder for a good chunk of the movie you were watching, sending snacks flying everywhere.

Once your relationship becomes more settled and the white-haired demon owns up to his true feelings more, however, his reactions to cuddling are less dramatic. Yeah, you’ll still have to be the one who asks and deal with his aloof reaction but that’s okay when he can’t look you into eyes as he hides his face behind his hand and makes no fuss when you drag him to bed. Soon thereafter, it’s basically like he’s trying to melt into you though, as much of him touching as much of you as is humanly and demon possible. He’s also a living furnace, which is great in a realm where the sun doesn’t shine.

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐄

Yeah, good luck ever getting up again, I hope you had no plans for the rest of the day or the following ones, for that matter. As the king of ‘five more minutes’, Belphie is going to keep you in bed with him way longer than you anticipated, courtesy of the iron grip he has on you even while asleep. Sure he told you it’ll only be a short nap but honestly, you should know better by now.

On the plus side (was the beginning even a downside?), you can lay down in whatever position you want to because Belphie will just contort himself around you, making you question whether he actually has bones. If he cuts off your airflow again, it’s because he plopped his entire weight down on you just to snuggle up to your chest like an overgrown cat.

You made the mistake once to card your fingers through his hair and it lulled him to sleep so fast he now practically demands you do it every time. Whether it’s pouting at you or just taking your hand and putting it on his head, he’ll make it known you’re neglecting your poor demon if you don’t. Still, cuddling with Belphie guarantees you the best sleep possible; even if you wake up super disoriented, not knowing which year it is, at least you’re well-rested (Insomnia? We don’t know her).

𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐒

Congrats! You managed to pry Barbatos away from babysitting— I mean serving Diavolo! Your reward is seeing the busy demon relax for once in his long life.

The air is infused with the soothing fragrance of tea leaves as your cups happily steam on the bedside or coffee table, depending on where you choose to snuggle up, the tea never going cold thanks to Barbatos’s magic.

Another rare thing to see -or rather to feel- are his bare fingers trailing over your sides, dipping under your clothes to trace random shapes onto your skin as you rest against his chest. Every now and then, he’ll bow his head down to press a soft kiss to the crown of your head, not hiding how his lips curl into a fond smile. While he loves to take care of you and draws energy from it, if you run your hands through his hair and lightly massage his scalp, his usual composure will give way to a demon who’s putty in your hands.

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍

This man only has the best silk sheets and will coax you into sleeping over more often than not. Sure, he could visit the House of Lamentation but why would he set himself up to be interrupted by those nosy brothers (no offence). Besides, you’re always running around appeasing their whims, you should take a break and let him spoil you.

Cuddling really is just a part of an entire routine of destressing for him. From sharing a meal to washing the dirt of the day away with a shower or bath to changing into soft, top-quality loungewear or pyjamas and snuggling up on the couch or bed, this demon will make sure you’re not lacking anything. The lights in his house seem to always dim to the right brightness and colour and there’s calming music playing from somewhere.

But, of course, cuddling doesn’t have to be an orchestrated act every time. If you ask him to hold you he will gladly do so, cooing at you or talking about his day if you want him to. Despite taking the shape of a peacock, Talion’s voice is actually incredibly soothing and he chuckles quietly whenever he lulls you to sleep with it. He’ll even fan out his tail feathers over you if it makes you happy, even if it means rustling them in the process. Smoothing them out again is well worth it for the way you run your fingers over them as you study their colours in awe, both your silent and verbal praise making him preen with pride.

𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐀𝐑

Valefar wants to be the big spoon, not only because he feels like he can protect you this way but also because this way you wouldn’t notice his heated cheeks. It’s not like he’s insecure to the point where he thinks you holding him would undermine his masculinity, he just needs to hold you close in peace after a stressful night at the casino.

But it’s all good, his defined muscles make for a comfy pillow and if you fall asleep watching TV, he can easily pick you up and carry you to bed without disturbing you. Whenever you cuddle, he also always lowers his voice to a husky murmur, the vibrations of which will travel from his chest to your skin.

In the tranquil moments where it’s just you and him, Val loses all the brashness he’s feared for, his calloused hands hovering over your form as if he’s scared he could hurt or taint you. Just take them in yours and settle them on your hips, squeezing them encouragingly to tell him ‘It’s okay’ and he’s falling for you all over again, especially if you pair it with a chaste kiss on his cheek. As a greed demon, however, once he’s had a taste of your affection, he will take everything he can get, now coming up to you out of the blue, hugging you from behind whenever he sees fit.

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

➺ send in an ask to be added to or removed from my tag list

#┊holly’s potions ೃ༄#obey me #obey me shall we date #x reader #obey me x reader #obey me fluff #obey me oc x reader #mammon x reader #belphie x reader #belphegor x reader #barbatos x reader #dantalion x reader #valefar x reader #obey me headcanons #obey me mammon #obey me belphie #obey me barbatos #┊om! oc: dantalion ೃ༄#┊om! oc: valefar ೃ༄

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aspenispoplar · 2 months

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Ok so here's my thoughts on dungeon meshi as a D&D party finally.

Okay so Laios and Falin's players (P!Laios & P!Falin) are actually brother and sister in real life. P!Laios got his sister to join him in the D&D game he was in. She was pretty shy and so wanted to make a healer character.

So their party plays the campaign for a while. Maybe a couple years or so. Mostly it doesn't have all that intense of a plot, but everyone's enjoying it.

Then in the dragon fight, Falin's player asks the DM if she can save Laios from the dragon's critical hit bite. The DM says sure but she only rolls like a 13, so the DM lets her save him by sacrificing her character, and she agrees.

Everyone's quite shaken up about it all, and to up the stakes the DM has the couple DMPCs/hirelings they had leave the party.

And now we get to the main focus of this headcanon. After P!Falin died, she wanted to make a new character, with a really different vibe from her old one, especially since she had gotten a lot more comfortable playing D&D now. In real life, she and P!Laios enjoy cooking together a lot, so she talked to the DM and P!Laios about it, and out came Senshi- P!Falin's new character!

P!Laios decides to try to help support P!Senshi's desire to focus more on cooking by taking out a book on monster cooking which he put in his inventory as a bit during character creation.

Basically it went like this

DM, (thinking to DMself: they're pretty overleveled now for the earlier layers of the dungeon, I should try and make it harder on them): so, you're running low on money. Even without the hirelings to pay, you need to sacrifice some of your expenses or sell some of your equipment to afford everything you lost.

P!Laios: Hey DM, how much do our rations cost? Because remember that meme book that I gave myself during character creation on cooking monsters?

DM: *very large sigh*

P!Senshi: *barely-restrained giddiness*

That's the main headcanon, but I also have other minor little headcanons about the other two player's characters.

Chilchuck's player has had some antagonistic DMs who loved torturing their players with traps in the past, so when they were told by the DM that the campaign was going to be "a pretty realistic dungeon crawl", P!Chilchuck decided to make the most roguey rogue of all rogues to ever rogue. They maxed out the trap-finding score to the point where the DM had to actually start including more traps for Chilchuck to feel a bit more useful, since the DM never actually planned on using very many traps in the campaign.

Marcille's player is a huge anime fan, and has made on-and-off jokes this whole time about the dungeon being some sort of bad isekai plot.

DM: Marcille, you feel a wet splash on the top of your head, only seconds before a slime drops on top of you.

P!Marcille: Oh? It's on my head? Is it suffocating me? Choking me perhaps...? Restraining me?

DM: Fuck you. Also you take 2 acid damage.

*everyone laughs at the DM's pain*

DM: There is a large plant monster in front of all of you

P!Marcille: Oh? Does it have vines? Like, tentacle-ish vines?

DM: You know what? It does now. It's rolls a 17 on grappling you. Have a good time with that.

P!Marcille: *waggles eyebrows* okay then

DM: I am going to hit you with my car covered in hammers rigged to explode multiple times and hammers go flying everywhere

While all of this is going on the DM is actually secretly very pleased to make a bunch of worldbuilding around the dungeon ecosystem and monsters and everything.

#yes im giving the DM (the DM/the DM's/DMself) pronouns no i will not apologize #the new characters that come in could just be new people #or maybe the “hirelings” (aka their earlier party members) weren't actually DMPCs at all and just took a short break from playing #before coming back with new characters #the DM is also having a good time actually starting to implement the plot they came up with a while ago into the story #(at least thats what i assume is going on with what we're hearing about that jester character who probably assasinated the king or whatever #dunmeshi #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #falin dungeon meshi #falin touden #falin #laios dungeon meshi #laios touden #laios #senshi dungeon meshi #senshi #chilchuck dungeon meshi #chilchuk tims #chilchuck #marcille dungeon meshi #marcille donato #marcille #my headcanons #d&d #dunmeshi as a dnd party

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obeymesheep · 1 year

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Husband Energy

Lucifer, Mammon

gn reader!!

OMG SOOO LONG!! hope everyone enjoys this, i am planning on doing all the brothers just on my own time! thank you so much for being patient, it's the end of the semester so i had lots going on, and was also working on this which is much longer than normal!

Lucifer

Lucifer probably bought the ring the day you told him you loved him. It's no small feat getting the demon of pride to fall in love with you, let alone a fall in love with a human.

He kinda sets you up a lil, just a little trick. He has you believe that he's proposing at the restaurant, its very mean, where he gets down on one knee... to tie his shoe, or these long speeches about how much he loves you, and how he never wants you to suffer so that's why... he's paying the bill. When you get home, a little disappointed, you cuddle up with him with a glass of brandy, and confess what you thought tonight was. Lucifer chuckles and pulls out a ring.

"Is this what you wanted love? I apologize for the tricks, but seeing how badly you wanted me to ask was too cute to pass up. I promise you will never spend another night alone, and I will forever hold you in my arms"

Lucifer doesn't let you touch anything!! He is a perfectionist, so apart from the occasional opinion needed he does basically everything! You do have to pull him away from everything just to let him enjoy the fact that you're engaged :(

The wedding is flawless, and goes unblemished by any snot nosed kids, mean and nosy relatives, or clumsy brothers. If you're going more human, everything is draped in pure white, with a classic ceremony, you both also in white, you exchange vows and kiss. However, if you decide to go the demon way and bind your souls together, Diavolo has to officiate, and it hurts a lot, very few people attend, at most it's Mams, Barb, and Simeon, but! a very large reception is thrown afterwards! You're glowing and in bliss throughout the entire party, people come up and congratulate you, with lots of food and drink!

Y'all do not move out of the house, you just can't, his brothers are not equipped for it and Lucifer doesn't want to leave them. However for a couple days after the honeymoon the brothers spilt so you can enjoy your time as a married couple.

You are expected to do most of the housework, and Lucifer prefers when you're at home (assuming we've graduated??? from RAD) instead of some job where he can't guarantee your safety. BUT you're basically excused from dinner duty, you have no obligation to feed anybody, or do any dishes!

You soon come to learn the you and Lucifer already acted like an old married couple, the soft good-morning kisses and the glasses of wine after a long day, but it's also a learning experience for both of you, Lucifer learns to sacrifice time for you, and you learn to trust that Lucifer won't make any life changing decisions without you!!

Mams is super happy for the both of you and is glad your now an in-law! Leviathan is a little jealous that Lucifer got married first. Satan is LIVID when you announce the engagement and feels very betrayed it's takes a while for him to come around... Asmo is very overjoyed about the whole ordeal and is very involved!! Beel is also really happy and is super happy to have you as an in-law!! Belphie feels a little apprehensive about it, none of them have ever been married and feels he is the only one worried about the dynamic :/

Mammon

It's sooo impulsive, i like to think he didn't propose with a ring, with maybe like a sword, or a crown, he is pretty non traditional and wants to pick something that means a lot to him, and it will probably be a treasure brought with them from the celestial realm. Mammon almost proposes a lot, he runs into asmo's room with a sigh "i almost proposed :("

You guys go out to Mams favourite casino, dressed to the nines, and ready to have a drink while Mammon wins some games! At the nights end, Mammon surprises you with a night away at a expensive hotel room. In that moment everything was right, you keeping him company while he smoked on the balcony, he pulled out the treasure.

"I want ya to be mine forever, not Lucifer's, not Levi's, not Asmo, mine! So please, let me make you mine.."

Mammon is such a good haggler and always knows the best vendors. The work load is pretty even, Mams has pretty hard opinions, and wants to help make the day special.

You guys have a demon wedding, when he said he wants to make you his, this is what he meant, to him human weddings are far too temporary, but if it means a lot to you, he will allow you two to also have a ceremony because he does think it's really romantic, at the demon ceremony, Lucifer, Asmo, Luke, Solomon come, and at the reception lots of demons are there, Mammons pretty connected so lots are his guests, though this also means there's lots of presents!

You definitely leave the house, into a smaller one near by, there's lots of tears from the other brothers. You're house is very suited to your tastes, and breakfast visits from the brothers at least happen once a week <3

Mams really falls into the 'wife' roll, his modeling gigs are pretty all over the place, so if you have a more stable schedule, Mammon does lots of the house work, while you cook/plan most meals!!

You and Mammon really fall into a cute routine, Mammons an early riser, so he's doing his skin care and getting dressed while your sleeping, then slipping back beside you to watch you sleep, when you wake up, you go make breakfast, while Mams definitely cuddles you from behind, things like that <3

Lucifer is really proud of how grown up Mammon has become and the partner he chose. Levi is probably not surprised and is only shocked that Mammon finally did it. Satan is touched at the pairing and like Lucifer is proud of Mammon. Asmo is once again through the roof just at the simple fact there will be a wedding. Beel while very happy is a little sad that it means Mammon will move out. While it takes Belphie a little while for the news to really sink in, is only a little salty of your choice in partner.

#creams fluff #obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #creams headcannons #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #mammon x you #mammon x reader #mammon x mc #mammon x gender neutral reader #mammon x y/n #obey me luci x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer #lucifer x mc #lucifer x you

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alexfromjersey · 9 months

Text

A SCHOOL TAINTED WITH BULLET HOLES

Vada Cavell x G!P OC

Word Count: 2.0k

warnings: school shooting, mature language, gun violence

A/N: I’m trying to write as much as possible before I visit my dad for three weeks so pray that I can at least finish half this book and at least three chapters for my other book.

Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

Poke. Poke. Poke.

You were being awoken by the feeling of someone poking you in your side, face, and thigh. You peel one eye open and are met with wide eyes and yellow rotten teeth. You jump fully awake, frightened, and scoot to your wall.

The sickly-looking man let out a laugh at your reaction, “Oops didn’t mean to scare ya.” The man was wearing nothing a dirty stained white t-shirt, no bottoms on.

“Rip! I told you, this room is off limits” The familiar voice of your mother enters your room. She was in a red silky robe that was loosely tied and her hair was disheveled.

“My bad. I was just trying to look for the bathroom” Rip snorted and moved away from you.

“Last door on the right” Your mom answered.

Rip nodded and turned back to you. “Sorry kid” He shrugged and left your room.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Your mother comes to stand in front of you.

“I’m sorry baby but I told you to always make sure your door is locked every night so things like this can never happen” She spoke softly. She tries to push some hair out your face but you flinch away from her. A hurt look appears on her face.

“Get ready for school or you’re going to be late” She sniffled and left your room.

You sat on your bed for a good extra five minutes before getting yourself ready for the day. You got dressed in a black pullover hoodie, black t-shirt, faded blue jean shorts, and beat-up black and white Cortez. You grab your bag, skateboard, and essentials before leaving your room. You make sure to lock your room up before heading downstairs. Thankfully, Rip was still in the bathroom so you didn’t have to see him in the kitchen. You brushed your teeth and washed your face in the kitchen sink.

After you finished, you leave your house without a goodbye from your mother. As usual, you’re met with the sight of your two friends, Quinton and Devyn Hasland.

“Sleeping Beauty has finally awoken from her slumber” Devyn joked in a broken English accent.

A smile appeared on your face and you dap the brothers up. The three of you start your journey to school.

“You know Principal Adams is coming for you for missing like a whole week of school. He’s been hounding me and Q for the last week about your whereabouts” Devyn said.

“I don’t care. School is a fucking joke” You shrugged.

“School helps you get a job” Quinton commented.

“No, school helps you become a dumbass corporate zombie. It doesn’t teach you any life skills. Not how to do taxes. Not how to save money to get a house or car. Or basic life shit that you need to survive. How is a2 + b2 = c2 gonna help me in life? When am I gonna need to know that shit? Fuck school til the day I die” You smiled and stuck your middle finger up.

The three of you continue your journey to school. As you approach the school, you see a rail that you always practice on.

"Watch this" You smirked and throw your board down.

"Nice" The brothers compliment as you skate back towards them. You felt a pair of eyes on you so you turned around and they lock on to dark brown ones.

Vada Cavell.

You knew her from your Chemistry class with Mrs. Victor. The two of you never spoke but always catch each other staring. Quinton and Devyn follow your eyeline.

“Oh my god, I wish you would just let your balls drop and go talk to her. The longing gaze from across the room is so Twilight” Devyn groaned.

You pull your eyes away from her, “You watched Twilight?”

“I only watched it with Jazmine” Devyn defended.

“Lie. Mom and Pops caught you last week, without Jazmine, watching it in the basement. According to Mom, you look very engrossed in it” Quinton laughed.

“There was nothing else on TV” Devyn sighed.

You and Quinton let out a laugh as the three of you walk inside the school. The brothers make their way to their lockers while you head to breakfast. You were starving and didn’t realize it until you got inside the building. By the grace of God, you managed to get to the café before they closed.

You grab your food and head to pay for it. But when you pulled your wallet out, you realized a $5 bill you had was missing. You sighed out in frustration.

“Fucking dickhead” You mumbled. You put the food back and turned around but you ran into someone.

“Miss Vaughn, nice to know you’re alive and well. Follow me” Principal Adams demanded.

You sigh and begin to follow the principal to his office. But another body runs into you.

I can’t catch a break today.

“Sorry,” A sweet voice apologized. You looked down and saw Vada. You open your mouth to respond but Adams interrupts you.

“Ms. Cavell the bell is about to ring. Head to class now” Adams ordered.

“Sir yes sir” Vada mocked and saluted him before turning on her heels, and walking to class. You chuckled lightly and continued following Adams.

The two of you made it to his office which smelled like straight black coffee and boiled eggs. You already knew what the talk was going to be about so you just relaxed in the chair.

“Jordan Vaughn…failing every single one of your classes and racking up a whopping 37 days absent. It’s not even spring break yet” Adams read from your file.

You grab a red and black sharpie off his desk.

“What is your goal Jordan? What is it that you wanna do with your life?” Adams asked.

You continue to draw all over the underside of your board, not even paying attention to the man in front of you.

Principal Adams sighed, “Miss Vaughn.”

At the call of your name, you look up at him, "Hm?”

“Listen I get it, school sucks and you don’t have a care in the world about your diploma. But you know who does... the world out there. Jobs won't even give you a second thought if you don't graduate. You need to start taking this seriously or you will be left behind while everyone around you is making it" Adams lectured.

"My goal is to become a pro skateboarder, last time I checked you don't need a diploma for it"' You shrugged.

"But you need money. You need money for the fees. You need money for sponsors. What if your board breaks? A diploma leads to jobs that lead to money which can help you become a pro skater.” Adams explained.

He had a point but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of being right. Adams grabbed a pamphlet labeled, Summer School.

“You complete this program for one month this summer, you’ll be graduating with your friends next year,” Adams said and slid it toward you.

You reluctantly take it and leave the office before he could say another word.

The hallways were now empty due to everyone being in class now. You walk to your locker and open it. You are stunned to see an apple juice, strawberry Pop Tart, and an orange inside.

“What the fuck?” You questioned. You remembered putting this stuff back. You looked down the halls and saw you were alone. You shrugged and started chowing down on the food. After you finished you placed your board and the pamphlet inside.

SMACK!

You jumped at the noise beside you. It was then followed by laughter.

“I hate the both of you” You mumbled, mouth full of food as you looked at Quinton and Devyn. “Aren’t you two supposed to be in class?”

“Yeah, but Q saw you with Principal Adams so he texted me to come and wait for you in the hall. Why are you inhaling your food in front of your locker?” Devyn questioned.

“I was hungry. But I didn’t buy this though. It was in my locker when I opened it” You answered.

“Oh, food from Mother Theresa. I need one of those. Tell her to bring me some Burger King” Devyn joked. You rolled your eyes at the boy.

“Boys and Miss Vaughn, the three of you need to get to class before I-”

A loud bang is suddenly heard. Everything starts to go in slow motion for you as you see blood splatter against the school walls. Two more bangs are heard and a girl lets out a blood-curdling scream.

More bangs are heard, now in rapid succession. You barely process the fact Devyn is now on the ground in a pool of his own blood. You look up to see a kid from one of your classes standing there emotionless with an automatic rifle pointed toward Quinton.

“DEVYN!” You hear Quinton scream. It brought you back to reality as you looked down and saw Quinton holding his brother’s body getting blood on himself.

“Quinton! We have to go! Come on Quinton!” You shout as you pull him away from Devyn’s lifeless body. You push him to run down the hall. Another gunshot rings through the hall and you feel a searing pain in your hip area. You push through the pain, you quickly open the door to the girl’s bathroom and push Quinton inside before locking the door behind you. The two of you cram into a stall out of breath. Sweat was dripping down your face and tears were falling freely down Quinton’s.

Suddenly, the sound of metal hitting the floor made the both of you freeze.

“Who’s in there?” Quinton questioned.

No response.

“We’re not the shooter. It’s Matt Corgan, we saw him” Quinton added. As your adrenaline begins to fade, the pain comes back in full force.

More rapid gunfire outside the door makes everyone clench in fear.

“Do you know where he is now?” A fragile voice asked. You can hear another girl’s quiet cries in the stall next to you. But you were too focused on the pain.

“I don’t know. I don’t know, my brother” Quinton cried. Tears start to gather in your eyes from the pain and the current predicament.

“Come, come under” The girl ushered. You let Quinton crawl under first. You bend down to follow but a torturous pain shoots through your body.

“Ahh” You cried out. You lift up your hoodie and shirt to see a gaping wound pouring out blood.

“Jordan? What happened, you okay?” Quinton questioned.

You start to feel lightheaded and the world starts to spin and before you know it, you fall onto the tile floor with a loud thud. Quinton quickly unlocks the stall door to see you trying to keep your eyes open.

“No, no, no, no Jordan” Quinton cried and bent down to the floor. He lifted your tops and saw the wound.

“Shit, help me please” Quinton called out to the two girls. His voice was quiet enough for only the people in the bathroom to hear. He puts pressure on your wound which makes you groan and squirm. The two girls exit the stall but retreat when they see you on the ground.

“Please help me,” Quinton sobbed. The blonde-haired girl runs and grabs as many paper towels as she could. She hands some to Quinton and they put pressure on your wound to stop the bleeding.

“Hang on, Jordan” Quinton cried.

Meanwhile, your eyes start to flutter close but a warm soft hand brings you back.

“Hey, you have to keep your eyes open. Don’t close them. Don’t close your eyes” Vada’s voice echoes throughout your head.

Her eyes were bloodshot red and puffy with more tears falling freely down her face. She squeezes your hand tight to keep you from closing your eyes. The sound of police sirens and heavy footsteps can be heard.

“Oh thank God,” Quinton said.

You tried your hardest to keep your eyes open but they were getting extremely difficult. They were getting heavier and heavier until your eyes closed and your hand went limp in Vada’s.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x oc #jenna marie ortega #g!p reader #jenna ortega #the fallout #vada cavell #vada cavell x reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 days

Note

AITA for trying to get my grandparents to plan for when I leave?

(sending this 3/27/24 in case dates/timelines are important or something)

I (20X) am planning to move in with my brother in the very near future (like within a month or two), and I'm also planning to take some college classes at the local community college starting this fall. I've been worried about my grandparents because they're both in their 70s (my grandma is 74, my grandpa turns 77 next month) and have some disabilities. It's important to note I've lived with them almost my entire life, and their disabilities have gotten worse as they've aged. Because they're disabled, I do a lot of stuff around the house for them. This makes me worried about what they'll do when I leave and how they'll navigate because I feel like they're dependent on me.

My grandpa's been out of town for the past week and got back last night, so I mentioned today that I want him and my grandma to plan for when I leave. The response was basically "we'll be fine, go live your life" and "we've never had an empty nest before" and the empty nest comment honestly just seems like it proves my point?

One of the issues is my grandparents babysit my cousins a lot (the youngest being 2 months old, the oldest being 10) and they especially get dependent on me when they're babysitting. Additionally I'm planning to completely cut all contact with them because they've been emotionally abusive for as long as I can remember (even sometimes getting physically abusive to myself, my brother, and my dog). I haven't told them about this yet, mostly because I feel like they'd freak out (they are the type to say they're the people who raised me so they're entitled to whatever from me).

I feel like a bit of an asshole for even telling them to plan out what they're gonna do when I leave because they have kids around town, which is where the empty nest comment came from I think. But on the other hand, my grandpa leaves the house a lot without my grandma, and my grandma can't get around very well, partly because she had a stroke back in 2010 that messed up her balance. I'm primarily worried that something will happen to her and nobody will be around to help her out. Additionally, their kids have lives and jobs of their own, so there's no guarantee they'd be able to get their kids' help if they need it.

They're so insistent that they don't need a plan that I'm tempted to have them act like I don't exist for a week and see how they do.

I also have generalized anxiety disorder, in case that's relevant. Both of my grandparents know about this diagnosis.

TLDR: AITA for trying to get my grandparents to make a plan for when I leave, despite them having their kids around town?

#aita #am i the asshole

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