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#but it never really occurred to me he had an actual name
cupid-styles · 25 days
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daisy 2 (english profrry x quiet TA!yn)
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she's alive and I hope you like it 🩷 I think there will be a short epilogue wrapping everything up after this :)
part one
word count: 7.9k
content warnings: a bit of angst (nothing too crazy), smut (f receiving oral, penetration, size kink/belly bulge, dirty talk, a tiny bit of cum play), and — as stated in the first part — massive, big fat warning for an inappropriate power imbalance.
main masterlist | talk to me
. . .
Y/N had tried to talk herself out of it. Several times, actually. For hours. 
But at a certain point, she realized all she was doing was driving herself insane with a nonstop, hamster wheel of thinking. She couldn’t stop replaying the conversation with Professor Styles — or Harry, rather, as he’d said earlier — over and over, nitpicking at every tiny detail. She wished she had someone to go to — an unbiased, neutral third party who wouldn’t tell her what she wanted to hear, but she doubted that even if she did have that, they’d think her analysis of their discussion would be appropriate.
Because she had a huge, obvious, stupid crush on her professor. 
Well, he wasn’t technically her professor. She was just the professor she was… assisting, and that technicality is the only thing that gave her enough courage to bundle up beneath layers of thermal wear and her forest green puffer jacket, hiking through the chilly winter evening to see if, by some miracle, Harry was still in his office. 
On the way there, she spoke to herself sternly. She needed to have a goal in mind — an intention, really, of what exactly she was going there for. It wasn’t a normal thing to go see a professor in his office on a Monday at 6:40 pm.
It wasn’t normal to think about his grumpy face and even crankier demeanor; the way his lips pursed thoughtfully around wordy responses about a student’s answer to an essay question, or his long, calloused fingers that wrapped around the same gel ink pens he always used for grading.
It wasn’t normal for her to fall asleep imagining herself pressing her own plush lips to the same ones that nearly begged for an apology just a few hours ago.
And it certainly wasn’t normal for her professor to admit that he’d spent the weekend thinking of her, either.
The English building stays unlocked until around 9 pm on weekdays, just in case professors end up hauling their grading into late nights or students have group projects. She hurries through the wooden doors as soon as she arrives, hurriedly yanking her mittens off and stuffing them in her coat pockets as she walks the familiar journey down to Harry’s office. She’s unsurprised that most of the offices and classrooms have already gone dim, but the closer she gets to Harry’s, the sooner she realizes that his is the exception. With the bleak, yellowed light from the lamp she’d picked out a few weeks back, she sees a faint luminance from his office’s frosted window. Swallowing, she decides against her better judgment before waltzing in like she owns the place, and instead opts for a hesitant knock, punctuating it with a call of his name. 
“Profess— Harry? Are you in there?” she nibbles on her lip before tacking on a, "It's Y/N."
She hopes he recognizes her voice as she wrings her fingers together in front of her. She thinks she hears muffled movement on the other side of the door, but she’s not entirely sure. It never occurred to her that perhaps he wouldn’t want to see her — maybe he’d peek through the crack of the door, see her face, and widen his own eyes in shock and embarrassment, maintaining silence until she eventually gave up and walked away. Her throat bobs nervously at the imagery. 
She’s ready to give up when the door swings open, revealing a rather flushed looking version of the typically neat, well-kept professor she’s used to seeing. His cheeks don a splotchy pink hue that speckles down to his neck, where his usual button down is currently undone. Underneath, he wears a plain white tee-shirt. She blinks at the small display of intimacy before snapping her eyes back up to his face. He’s running his finger through his messy curls, tugging lightly at the base of the locks.
“Is everything alright?” he asks through a slightly nervous voice. With furrowed eyebrows, she nods her head slowly.
“Yes— well, no, I guess. I feel bad about earlier.”
She chokes the words out in hopes that she can keep her humiliation at bay. She’s unsure if her eyes deceive her, but it seems as though his face relaxes some before he quickly nods, stepping aside to let her in. 
“Um, you have nothing to feel bad about,” he says, shutting the door quietly behind her. She shrugs her shoulders as she stands in the middle of his small office, avoiding his gaze. “I was out of line, Y/N.”
“What did you mean by it?” she rushes out, facing him with a leery expression. “That you spent the weekend thinking of me. And feeling awful about how you’ve treated me.”
His mouth opens and closes, and she can’t help the way she glances down at his raspberry-hued lips. She swallows tightly, biting on her own bottom lip.
“This isn’t something we can do,” he mumbles out breathily with a shake of his head. “You know that, right?”
They’re dancing around the obvious. Her stomach lurches at the low, groveled volume of his voice, and her fingers twitch at her sides as she resists the urge to step closer to him. She’s never been forward with a romantic interest before — she’s never had a reason to be, to uphold a certain level of confidence. 
But she can’t help herself. 
“Tell me, then. Tell me what you thought of this weekend.”
Harry’s nostrils flare. 
“If it’s not something we can do,” Y/N says softly, licking over her lips, “Then whatever you thought about should be nothing, right?”
He’s torn. He’s so utterly torn that it feels like his brain is being split in half. He knows what he should do — he should tell her she’s wrong and that she should leave. He should leave this entire situation behind him, chalk it up to him being a touch-deprived idiot, and move on with his life. Join a few dating apps and find someone decent to settle down with. 
But why would he do what he’s supposed to do?
“I thought about how fucking shitty I felt for ignoring you for weeks after you told me you just wanted my praise,” Harry blurts, heart hammering in his chest as he slowly starts to close the gap between their bodies. “I thought about how much I like having you around — how smart and talented you are, how beautiful and creative your brain is.”
“I’m not—”
“I’m not finished,” he replies curtly, making Y/N’s eyebrows shoot up to her forehead. “I thought about how pretty you are. I thought about how I’m thankful to have you as my assistant, because no one has ever been able to meet me on the same level. I thought about… how I’d be taking advantage of you if I told you any of those things, so I promised that I’d keep them to myself.”
He’s standing directly before her now. He’s so close that she can smell the warm musk of his cologne and see the freckles dotted over his nose. It makes her stomach churn in the best way. 
“Why didn’t you?” she finally breathes out. 
A smirk forms at the edges of his lips. He looks down at her as if he wants to swallow her whole, and she’s not sure that she doesn’t want him to. 
“You asked me to tell you, sweetheart,” he murmurs. He reaches out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear and her skin zips with electricity. “‘S not much of my fault now, is it?”
Quickly, she shakes her head. She swallows nervously and hopes he doesn’t notice her picking at her nails as she waits for him to surge forward and press a messy kiss to her lips. 
But instead, he stops. 
A look of clarity ghosts over his face and his throat bobs. It doesn’t stop him from thumbing over her chin with sorrowed eyes. 
“We’ll wait until the end of the semester,” he murmurs out. The look of disappointment on Y/N’s face must be obvious because his eyebrows furrow in dejection. “It’s the safest way, okay? After that… after that, I’m yours.”
I’m yours. It echoes through her brain, making her heart thump rapidly in her chest. She feels it everywhere, but the hesitancy remains. 
“Promise me,” she whispers, pressing a wary hand to the expanse of his chest. “Promise me I’m not wasting my time. Promise me that you mean this.”
He can’t help it — before he can even contemplate the consequences, he ducks down to connect their lips. It takes her by surprise but she immediately kisses him back, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck to pull him closer.
Despite the reluctant context, the physical bond is anything but. Harry kisses her unhurriedly, like he has years to worship every bit of her lips. He dips his tongue into her mouth the second she grants him the opportunity, and her chest feels like it’s ready to explode when he squeezes her hip. His large palm easily finds its way to her ass and she whimpers breathily into the seal of his mouth. It’s the only thing that brings him back down to earth — a reminder that he’s no longer daydreaming but experiencing the real thing. He forces himself to break the kiss but leans his forehead against hers, keeping his eyes shuttered closed.
“I promise you,” he exhales, and he feels her nod. “I’m yours.”
. . .
Attempting to act normal around Harry is harder than Y/N had anticipated. 
In hindsight, the evening consisted of a half-assed confession and a rather… intimate kiss that nearly knocked her off her feet. If it had been with anyone else — someone her age, a fellow student or peer, maybe — she, of course, would be anxious over it. But the fact that she had to see him a day later in class was… well, somehow embarrassing. 
She contemplates her outfit for hours, wanting to seem cute and put-together without overly desperate. She was scared it would be written all over her face the second she walked in and sat at her seat beside his podium — "I made out with Professor Styles in his office a day and a half ago and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it for more than two seconds since it happened" may as well have been written across her forehead. 
When she finally does show up to class, Harry looks… well, he looks like his usual self. He’s wearing those wide-legged trousers that she thinks he must have in at least a dozen colors, matched with a button down and a sweater vest overtop. He’s standing at the podium with his back to the entrance as he waits for students to filter in, squeezing his bottom lip between his fingers. He’s reading something, Y/N’s unsure what it is, but when he hears the less than graceful clatter of her setting her things down at the table, he glances over to her and flashes her a smile. 
A smile.
“Hey,” he greets. His voice is low and gruff and if she hadn’t been looking for it, she surely would’ve missed it. But she doesn’t, and it instead sends a zap of lovesick energy thrumming through her body. 
“Hi.” she mumbles back, waving as she leans over to pull her laptop from her bag. 
That’s the extent of the interaction, but it’s far more than she’s ever received from him. Normally, when she arrives at class, he fully ignores her. She only began to take issue with it when she figured out she was growing feelings for him, but somehow the quiet utterance of hey feels like a public acknowledgement of what occurred just a day prior. In some crazy way, it seems like it’s just as open as grabbing her and smacking a hard kiss to her lips. She finds herself wishing he would as he begins today’s lecture on male writers in feminist discourse.
As written on the schedule, Harry’s taking the time to discuss authors like George Herbert, John Berryman, and Leo Tolstoy. Y/N doesn’t feel particularly drawn to any of those figures, though a few weeks back when she and Harry were discussing this unit, they did find a mutual appreciation for Jacques Lacan. He wasn’t originally in the lesson plan — Y/N remembers it vividly, because she can recall saying that he would be a great fit. Her heart had expanded in her chest with praise when Harry agreed. 
And yet… Harry’s standing up there in front of the lecture hall, waxing poetic in the dreamiest way possible, about Jacques Lacan.
“Lacan was incredibly controversial, so I don’t expect all of us to feel comfortable with translating his viewpoints to modern day psychology,” Harry explains as he hovers over the old, wooden podium, “But what I do want to dig into is his basic idea of the symbolic register. Does anyone know what that is?”
Yes, Y/N wants to say. It’s the concept that our existence as humans includes language, culture, and rituals. 
“Lacan came up with this idea that he thought was waiting for us the second we were born. He felt that the symbolic register encompassed maybe more artsy, culture-based facets, and that was one of the most important parts of the human existence. We won’t get too far into it because this isn’t a psychology course, and frankly, I could give a shit if you truly understand this or not.” The class, including Y/N, laughs quietly. Harry rolls his lips into a thin line to avoid a smirk from appearing.
When the huffed merriment tapers off, he continues. “What I want you to take away as writers is this: Lacan’s symbolic register essentially implies that our lives, from the very start, are swamped with uncertainty. There’s no path for us. As you write your characters, consider that. Lacan thought that life experiences, specifically lack and desire, were what impacted the course we go on.”
As expected, the class is silent. Y/N’s found that students are typically too nervous or intimidated to contribute to conversations during Harry’s lectures, and she’s been on the receiving end of many, many emails asking things that could have been resolved in class.
“Think about what your characters lack. What are they missing? What are they unable to receive access to? Is it a resistance to pleasure, to giving in?”
Y/N swallows harshly at that. She pretends like she doesn’t hear it, instead focusing in on typing a response to an email in her inbox. 
“And then, consider their desires. Their deepest, darkest wants. No one has to know them — in real life, no one truly knows our truest desires, anyway,” she swears her eyes squeeze closed at that, but she quickly snaps them open, “But use it as an exercise for this weekend. Don’t forget, second drafts are due on Monday. Class is dismissed.”
Y/N swear she feels a second heartbeat in her core as the lecture hall begins to trickle out with students.
. . . 
“I thought we were waiting until the semester is over.” Y/N blurts it out when she can’t focus on grading Ren Wei's draft. 
Slowly, Harry glances up from the stack of papers he’s currently grading. With confused eyebrows, he sets his pen down. 
“We are,” he says softly. 
“Then what were you talking about in class today?” She hisses lowly. She keeps her voice quiet even though the door to Harry’s office is shut closed. 
“What do you mean?”
Y/N sighs frustratedly and sits back in her seat. She avoids Harry’s confused gaze as she crosses her arms over her chest. He ignores the way it pushes her breasts up through the soft fabric of her sweater. 
“The whole lack and desire thing. You know you weren’t planning on talking about Lacan until I brought him up a few weeks ago.”
Harry’s throat bobs and she licks over her lips, quickly glancing back up to his face. She’s right — they both know she’s right, but Harry’s reluctant to admit it. He’s stubborn — he’s always been this way in relationships, and it tends to be one of his greater downfalls as a partner. Deep in the pit of his heart, he knows Y/N deserves better. She wouldn’t be worth putting his job or her status as a student in danger if she wasn’t.
“You’re right,” he finally admits as he nibbles on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry. It was out of line and I won’t do that anymore.”
She pauses for a beat. And then, “I thought maybe you changed your mind.”
His shoulders deflate and she suddenly feels embarrassed. It was a stupid thing to reveal, she decides, and she picks at the skin surrounding her fingernails as she mentally beats herself up for it. 
And for a moment, Harry contemplates it. He knows it hasn’t been that long since he told her they have to wait, but he’d be a ridiculous liar if he didn’t admit that she’s all he’s been thinking about ever since they kissed in his office. Nervously, he reaches across the length of his wooden desk and takes her hand into his. He intertwines their fingers together and gives her hand a small, reassuring squeeze, and she looks up at him through her eyelashes. It makes his heart warm.
“You know this is incredibly difficult for me, right?” he asks. Y/N shakes her head and he scoffs in response. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N.”
She blushes. “I can’t stop thinking about you either.”
“Yeah?” he chuckles, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. She nods. “When we kissed, it… it was so good, y’know? It just… it felt good.”
“I know,” she breathes. She squeezes his fingers lightly before retracting her own hand and placing it in her lap. She may look naive, but she's already decided that she won't let him have the upper hand – not when it comes to something she can actually have control over, like teasing.
The movement surprises him but he chooses not to acknowledge it. “But this is what we decided on, right? It’s better this way. It’s kind of like edging, hm?” 
His eyes nearly bulge out of his skull as she glances down at her phone to look at the time. 
“Anyway, I have to head out to class. Text me if you need anything, Professor Styles.”
She waltzes out of his office with a snarky, knowing grin on her lips, and Harry has to do a series of deep breathing to stop his cock from exploding in his trousers. 
. . .
Y/N Y/L/N is a complete and utter minx. 
Harry has no choice but to come to this conclusion because in the weeks that follow their agreement, he swears she does everything she can to try and make him break. The worst part is, he doesn’t even know if she’s doing it intentionally. But every time they’re in the same room, all he can think about is hauling her over his shoulder, locking her in his office, and stretching her body over the length of his desk so he can fuck her until she can’t even think straight.
And there’s still three months left of the semester.
Admittedly, nothing ever really happens between them. Despite the apparent and blatant flirting that occurs on both sides, they keep things surprisingly professional, even behind closed doors. For the first time in his teaching career, Harry is actually ahead of grading. For some reason, he feels as though it’s a testament to how well he and Y/N actually work together.
But then there’s the matter of her teasing, which drives him up a fucking wall — the cute little mini skirts she almost always wears, the batting of her eyelashes at students in his class, followed by the wide-eyed smile she flashes Harry as soon as she knows he’s seen it. She even out-smarted him on Ursula LeGuin the other day and, as dorky as it seems, Harry doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on in his life.
It’s a series of back-and-forth. When Y/N has to leave his office for class, he’ll thumb at her chin or her cheeks so she gets all flustered before she heads out. Later that night, she’ll text him an innocent question with some sort of “typo”:
can’t stop thinking about your lips
oops! list* not lips! your list of grades — it’s due next friday, right??
It’s a stupid, risky game that neither of them can stop playing.
Even when they’re sitting in Harry’s office that Wednesday afternoon, buried beneath piles of final drafts for the midterm paper, he can’t help but gnaw on his bottom lip as she sits across from him. She’s focused — the cute furrow between her brows is the primary tell — but every now and then she’ll bring her pen up to her mouth to bite on it or poke her tongue out to lick over her lips.
Despite the chill of the day, she’s wearing a wool mini skirt atop sheer black tights, and he hasn’t been able to stop glancing down at the soft skin of her thighs since she showed up to campus hours ago. He wants nothing more than to rip a hole in the fabric, pull her into his lap, and kiss her until she’s a whimpering, breathless mess. 
He’s so distracted that he doesn’t even notice the clock is steadily ticking towards 5 pm and, technically, Y/N should’ve left an hour ago. With wide eyes, he drops his pen on the pile of papers in front of him. 
“Shit,” he curses, “You should go. Your hours ended at 4.”
She taps her phone screen beside her, “Oh. I didn’t realize it was so late. I guess I got in the groove with grading.” 
“It happens.” He says understandingly as he leans back against his chair, stretching his achy back out some. “I’ll see you on Monday, then?”
She peers up at him through her lashes. “It’s 5 pm on a Friday, Harry. You should leave, too.”
He runs his tongue over his teeth. She’s right, especially since he’s been attempting to distract himself from his crush on Y/N by doing late grading sessions in his office. 
“Yeah, you’re right,” he mumbles as he grabs his large tote bag. “I’ll walk you out, if that’s okay.”
They both know that it’s perhaps a cross of the boundary they’ve been trying to firmly maintain, but how harmful could a walk be? 
Y/N flashes him a small smile. Silently, they each pack their things up, and she follows him out of this office as he locks his door. They walk side-by-side, Y/N nibbling on her bottom lip as Harry tries to resist the urge to grab the hand that he keeps accidentally brushing with his own knuckles. 
“Do you have any weekend plans?” She suddenly asks softly, glancing up at the taller male. 
He hums, “Nothing too exciting. Probably just gonna catch up on TV and reading. You?”
“The secret life of an English professor, hm?” Y/N teases and he chuckles. “I have to start prepping for midterms. Laundry, too. I guess nothing more fun than your plans.” 
He laughs and her stomach erupts into flutters as he holds the front door for her. She smiles in gratitude, but her steps come to a stop when she witnesses the state of the weather. 
It’s nearly a white out. A snowstorm must have barreled through while they were busy grading, because now it’s dark, flurries of snow instantly landing on Y/N’s eyelashes and jacket. 
“Y/N,” Harry appears at her side, “You’re not planning on walking through this, are you?”
“I-I don’t have a car.” She mumbles, stuffing her already freezing cold hands into her pockets. “I’ll be fine, it’s not far.”
“No, but I wouldn’t feel okay with sending you home in this,” he replies. She blinks when she feels his hand reach out to her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “Would you let me drive you home, please? Just so I know you get home safely.”
Her stomach turns. This would officially cross the student/teacher boundary, but he’s right — it’s frigid out, and she always hates walking home in the dark anyway. Swallowing tightly, she nods. 
“Yeah, please. I’ll take a ride.”
“Good,” he exhales with a nod, “My car’s just over in the faculty lot.” 
With the both of them slowly shuffling through the snowy ground, they eventually make it to Harry’s car. As expected, it’s covered in snow, but he turns it on and blasts the heat so she can sit inside while he uses a brush to clear it off. She picks at her fingernails as she watches him through the foggy front window, her chest continuing to grow with nerves. She knows that this is all she’s wanted for weeks — to be alone with Harry, outside of the confines of his office — so why is she so scared? 
Luckily, he gets in the car before she has more time to contemplate it. Blowing warm air into his cupped hands, he shivers dramatically. 
“Fuck, it’s cold,” he whines, making her giggle. “Something funny about that, passenger princess?” 
“No!” She exclaims with a laugh, “I’m sorry I didn’t help clear your car off. I’m sure that was awful.”
His eyes crinkle teasingly as he chuckles along with her. As he backs up out of the parking spot with ease, he presses the palm of his hand to the back of Y/N’s headrest, checking to make sure he’s clear. She wonders if he’s used to driving in the snow, but lets the question die in her throat instead of pushing the conversation. 
“Sorry, I didn’t ask where you live,” he says when he turns onto the main road. “I think you mentioned once that you’re not too far from campus?”
She nods. “Yeah, I’m on Maple. It’s a single-person house, I’ll tell you where to turn.”
“You live alone?”
She doesn’t think the question is meant to be inherently suggestive, but there’s something about his immediate response that has her teetering on feeling that way. Swallowing, she nods again.
“Mhm. Most of my friends graduated or moved away when we finished undergrad, so it’s just me.”
“No pets or anything? You seem like the type to own one of those bald cats.”
Y/N balks at his reply, a peel of laughter bubbling from her chest. “What?”
Harry’s cheeks warm as he slowly drives down the snow-covered street. He doesn’t know how to tell her that he thinks about what kind of person she is when she’s not around — he knows it probably sounds creepy, but it’s how he’s been entertaining himself in the meantime. 
“I just… feel like you’d like those things,” he treads lightly, shrugging his shoulders, “Is my assumption wrong?”
“Very much so. I’ve only had dogs,” she giggles, “Are there any other assumptions I should know about?”
His throat bobs. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” she quirks a brow. “Turn at the light.”
He flicks his right signal on, “I may have tried to figure you out a bit in my… spare time.”
He cringes, but the sound of her laughter quickly pulls him from his embarrassment. 
“Well now I have to know.”
“Fine,” he decides, finding himself drawn to her little game, “I think you prefer matcha or hot chocolate over coffee.”
“True, but that’s only because you watch me cringe every time you drink your stupid black coffee.”
Harry snorts, “Okay, fair. I think you’re a homebody.”
“Mhmm,” Y/N nods. “True. Go on.”
“You prefer chocolate to vanilla.”
“Strawberry, actually.”
He hums. “You read period piece smut for fun.”
Y/N lets out a loud cackle. “What about my personality makes you think that?”
“You just seem like the type to go to the romance section at the bookstore, but only buy dirty books that are set in the 1800s,” he replies easily, a smirk edging at his lips, “Am I wrong?”
She ignores the way her cheeks flair with warmth. “I’m not opposed to it, but it’s not the only thing I read.”
“Sure,” he laughs. She rolls her eyes before pointing to a house down at the end of the road. 
“I’m right over there.” 
Harry nods and pulls up in front of it. The snow is only worse on the residential streets, likely because there haven’t been many cars going through to clear the roads. She nibbles on her lip as she unbuckles her seatbelt and turns to look at him. 
“Thank you for the ride.” she says softly. 
“Of course.”
They stare at each other for a beat before Y/N tears her gaze away from him. She glances out through the front window, watching momentarily as snowflakes continue to beat down on the exterior of his car. 
“It’s not safe,” she mumbles breathily, facing him again. “You shouldn’t drive in this.”
He swallows. He knows what he should say: No, it’s okay. I should go home. We said we’d wait, remember?
But he doesn’t want to. Not when she’s dangling alone time, off campus, right in front of his face. He can’t resist her — he doesn’t want to resist her.
“Can I come inside, then?”
. . .
Y/N’s house is everything Harry would have expected it to be. 
She has two huge bookshelves that are overflowing with worn novels, Post-It’s and folded-down pages sticking out of nearly every page. She has plants and candles, cuddly blankets thrown askew over her couch, and a sink filled with half-consumed cups of tea. There are framed pictures and Polaroids tacked up on her fridge of people Harry assumes are her friends and family. He smiles gently as he passes by an image of her wedged between two older people who have some of her same features. It’s all very her, which means it’s all entirely too comforting.
“Do you want something to drink?” Y/N asks, nibbling on her bottom lip as she glances up at the man before her. It’s an unusual sight; one that makes her feel like she has to blink a few times to ensure she isn’t dreaming. 
“Not unless you’re willing me to make my ‘stupid black coffee’, as you affectionately referred to it in the car.”
Y/N blushes, “I don’t have any coffee here, but I can make you tea. Or hot chocolate.”
“Tea is good, sweetheart.”
The flush only deepens at the pet name. He’s not sure where it comes from — maybe easing into a relationship-type dynamic is easier than he thought, especially considering he’s been pushing it down since their kiss. He watches as she turns to face the kitchen counter, occupying herself with turning the kettle on and retrieving two tea bags and mugs. He wants nothing more than to hug her from behind, pressing his fingertips into her hips to squeeze them teasingly. To dip his head to the crook of her neck and press kisses along her delicate skin. He swallows and adjusts his trousers, willing the thickening erection tucked underneath to go away.
“How do you want it?” she asks, glancing behind her to look at him.
He coughs. “Sorry? How do I want what?”
“Your tea,” Y/N replies slowly, a small smile on her lips, “How do you want your tea, Harry?”
“Oh— um, however you take it is fine.”
She nods and busies herself with filling the mugs up with the boiling water. Once she’s finished, she slowly hands him the steaming cup. He smiles in gratitude, allowing their fingers to brush against one another in the pass-off.
“By the way,” she says lowly, blinking at him, “You’re doing a shit job of hiding your boner.” 
Her eyes crinkle in a smirk as she lifts the mug to take a sip of the warm liquid. Harry’s cheeks instantly warm and he stutters over his words, attempting to force out an apology. She lets him scramble for a moment before reaching out to curl her fingers over his wrist with a smile. 
“I’m just teasing you. I hope you know I don’t care.”
He huffs, setting his cup down on the dining room table, “Yeah, but I’m the one who told you we have to wait. And now I’m standing in your kitchen, getting hard over you making me tea.”
She giggles. “I consider that a compliment, to be honest.”
“I’m sure you do,” he grumbles, “You make me feel like a doped up, lovesick teenager.”
“Really?”
“Of course,” he scoffs, “Everything you do does something to me. Even if you don’t mean it. It’s ridiculous.”
“What do you mean?”
He sends her a knowing look and she grins. 
“You know what I mean, Y/N.”
“You know I’m not good at reading between the lines, Harry.”
He sighs. “You turn me on. Even by doing the stupidest shit— knowing more about me in certain subjects, wearing those cute little skirts… it all drives me insane. I’ve been trying to keep it together, but I can’t.”
“Then don’t,” she replies almost instantly, placing her mug on the table next to his, “I don’t want to wait, Harry. I feel… I feel so stupidly desperate for you. And I want this— I want you.”
“I know, but—”
“But in any other context, if we didn’t meet this way, there wouldn’t be an issue,” she points out stubbornly, “If we had come back to mine after a date, we’d already be upstairs with our clothes off.”
He can’t help the way his cock jumps at her words and he mentally groans. He wants to yell into one of those cute throw pillows on her couch, or maybe lay face down on the fluffy carpet in her hallway. 
“Listen, I’m sorry if I’m crossing boundaries, we can just watch TV or something—”
“Stop,” he cuts her off with a shake of his head. “Can we just… Can I just kiss you again? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
Y/N blinks owlishly. Surprise is clear on her face, but it doesn’t stop her from nodding her head. As corny as it sounds — and Y/N knows it’s corny — it feels like magnets being pulled together. It’s not a moment longer before Harry’s palm is pressed gently against her cheek, his lips brushing up against hers. She’s nearly salivating at the thought of closing the gap between them and yet, at the same time, her brain is melting with lust. 
This kiss, unlike their first, is riddled with want. It’s hurried and sloppy, teeth clashing and tongues dipping into each other’s mouth. Harry’s hand slips from her cheek and down to the back of her neck, giving it a small, testing squeeze. She presses her chest impossibly closer to his, eyelashes flittering at the warmth radiating from the button-down he wears. She’s desperate to feel him, to eliminate any boundaries or distances between them — for the first time, she’s sick of playing games. 
“Upstairs,” she pants out through swollen lips. He takes her bottom lip between his teeth and pulls playfully, allowing it to snap back in place, “Take me upstairs, please.”
He swallows and her eyes find his Adam’s apple, nervousness settling in her chest. He gives her neck another squeeze. 
“Are you sure?” he breathes. She leans up to wrap her arms around his neck and presses a gentle kiss to his lips. 
“If you’ll have me, I’m yours, Harry.”
“You’ve always been mine,” he mutters with his forehead against hers, “Show me the way, sweetheart.”
She grabs his hand in hers and lightly tugs him out of the kitchen. If she’s being honest, she’s fantasized of this moment for months now. She was never sure of how it would happen (the logistics never mattered in her daydreams), but having him here, standing in her bedroom, feels like some kind of joke her mind conjured up. 
But when he lays her back against the mattress, elbows digging into the soft tufts of her bedding, it feels a little like a hazy fantasy. 
When he parts her thighs and kneels down between them, pressing a smattering of kisses along her neck as his hands push the fabric of her thick sweater up, her labored breathing is the only anchor she has in reality.
And when he finds himself between her thighs, tugging her black tights down to reveal a sodden pair of underwear, a hiss sounding out from her mouth when he bares her center to the cool air of her bedroom, things begin to feel very, very serious.
“Is this okay?” he asks huskily. He’s since moved down to kneeling on the carpet of her room, his large palms parting the insides of her thighs. Every single move he makes drives her insane. 
“Yes,” she breathes, fingers gripping the blanket beneath her. 
He’s less calculated now that he’s received her consent. She instantly mewls the second he puts his mouth over her, licking through the wet fabric of her underwear. Her eyes roll back just from the muffled sensation, especially when he allows a low moan to vibrate from his chest. 
“Need more,” he mutters against the soft skin of his thigh as he pulls the material to the side. He inhales sharply at the sight of how wet she is, his fingertip gently tracing over the tip of her swollen clit. “You were hiding all this from me for months.” 
He states it as if it’s a fact — like she’d been doing it intentionally, when all she’s been doing is dreaming of the day he’d finally be the one to break. Through a shaky swallow, she parts her lips. 
“Didn’t mean it,” she murmurs, sitting up slightly to look down at him. It’s a heavenly vision — the image of the professor she’s been crushing on, on his knees for her in her bedroom. He sends a smirk her way as if he can read her thoughts (and maybe he can, she’s truly not sure anymore), and surges forward to dip his tongue through her folds, licking up the heady arousal dripping from her hole. It makes her gasp and reach down to grab his hair, a tight fistful of locks in her hand.
“Doubt it,” he says into her core. His fingertip continues tracing tight circles into her clit as he begins to flex his tongue inside of her, and Y/N’s back is arching against the expanse of her mattress from the wet, intoxicating sensations of it all. It’s nearly too overwhelming for her, especially given the sensitivity of her clit — but Harry can feel her tensing beneath his grasp, a delicious telltale sign that her peak is quickly rising. 
“Harry— oh my god—”
“I know,” he coos, replacing his tongue with two of his fingers. He presses against her g-spot and she gasps, grinding her hips down against his hands, “There you go, angel girl, cum on my fingers. That’s it, good girl.”
If his hands weren’t currently occupied, one would undoubtedly be wrapped around his length right now, twisting and pumping until he emptied himself to the sight of Y/N’s coming, pulsating pussy. It's better than any daydream he ever could have thought of — her moans are beautiful and whimpery, her body warm and pliant beneath his touch as she comes down. Sensitivity immediately takes over and she gently bats his hands away, panting out loudly from above. 
“Alright?” He asks softly, placing a light kiss to her thigh. He hears her swallow loudly. 
“Jelly,” she mumbles, “Limbs are jelly.”
That makes him chuckle as he sits back up on his knees. He hovers over the length of her body and smiles at her fucked out expression. 
“You’re pretty when you come.” He says before leaning down to peck her lips. 
“Yeah?” She asks teasingly, “Show me what you look like?”
Harry stills but she nips at his bottom lip playfully, “You didn’t cum in your pants just from eating me out, did you?” 
“Got pretty close to it.” He confesses, eyes falling shut as she continues pressing kisses to his jawline and down to his neck. 
She hums at the admittance as her hands rake down his chest, “Do you wanna fuck me?” 
“Whatever you want,” he swallows, the answer sounding far more submissive out loud than he’d intentioned, “Fine with… I’m fine with whatever.” 
“I want you to fuck me.” She says, looking up at him. “Is that okay?”
“That’s perfectly okay.” 
Y/N grins and begins to make quick work of shedding his layers of clothes. His button-down is the first to go, followed by his trousers and belt. Once he’s down to his briefs, she gently hints at wanting to climb on top. He has no reservations with that so he helps her straddle his thighs, watching as her eyes peer down at his covered length. 
“You look big.” She admits. 
He’s not sure if it’s meant to be a compliment or a nervous comment, so he silently issues a small squeeze to her hip. 
“Seriously,” she continues with a frown. “Other girls have taken you no problem?” 
This makes him laugh. “Generally, yeah.” 
“I don’t think it’s gonna fit.” 
Harry smirks. “This isn’t your way of telling me you’re a virgin, right?”
“No!” She exclaims theatrically, and that only amplifies his laughter. “I’m just… I’m nervous! You look really big Harry, seriously.” 
“Take me out then,” he instructs lowly and the tone of his voice zips straight to Y/N’s center, “I promise, you’re freaking yourself out over nothing.” 
She grumbles as he pulls his underwear down his legs. Harry kicks them off his ankles and she sighs as she takes him into her hand. He has to make an effort not to hiss at the feeling of it. 
“Still huge,” she mutters, “My hand barely fits around you, Harry.” 
“You’re making my ego insane, angel.”
She peers up at him, where his arm is tucked behind his head like he’s lounging the day away. She gives the head of his cock a small squeeze. 
“Do you really think it’ll fit?”
“Yes,” he chuckles, “If not, I’ll just go down on you for an hour and by then you’ll be open and wet enough.”
“Shut up,” she mumbles, the thought of him spending an hour of his time between her thighs almost being too much to fathom. “‘M gonna try to put you in.”
“It’ll be fine, sweetheart. Just breathe and take your time. We can do a different position—“
“No,” she quickly shakes her head. “Wanna ride you. This is how I envisioned it.”
Harry’s eyebrow quirks at that but his curiosity is quickly replaced by pleasure when she hovers her hips over his length. The warmth from her previous orgasm is radiating off of her and he breathes out sharply when she pushes the tip in, her fingertips covering the sight. Harry reaches out to move them. “Need to see,” he grunts. 
Her jaw drops open as she slowly lowers onto him. Neither of them speak — it’s all entirely too consuming; her getting filled to the brim and him being surrounded by the tightest heat he’s ever felt. When she finally sinks down to his pelvic bone, her eyelashes flutter. 
“Can you move?” He asks through a slightly clenched jaw, “Or— do you need me to—“ 
“I can do it.” She replies as she steadily attempts to move her hips up. “Oh, that’s a lot.”
“Too much?”
She shakes her head, “It’s good. Is it good?”
“It’s amazing.” He breaths out, gritting his teeth as she moves up and down. 
With his reassurance under her belt, it’s easier for her to find a bit of rhythm, even if she has to place her hands down on his chest for stability. He happily places his own palms on top of them, curling his fingers around her wrists to help her. 
“There you go,” he encourages, leaning his head back against the pillow as he watches her. “You look so beautiful, holy shit.”
She moans when she finally figures out a pace that hits that soft spot inside of her, eyelashes fluttering from the constant pressure. Harry moves his hands down to her hips to assist in the maneuvers, but mainly because he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get sick of seeing his touch on her skin. She swallows harshly when she lifts a hand to coax at her swollen clit, a wet gasp sounding from her lips. Harry’s gaze lifts from where they’re connected to see widened eyes. 
“What’s the matter? Are you okay?” He asks in immediate panic. 
She nods quickly and reaches out to grab his hand and place it over his stomach. 
He thinks he may pass out. 
Beneath the soft, dimpled skin of her stomach, he can feel his length bulging in her tummy. If he looks close enough, he can see the faint outline. It takes everything in him not to snap. 
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters as she resumes her pace of bouncing on his cock. 
“Told you you were— oh— big,” she says stubbornly, and if he wasn’t so overwhelmed with the current state of her body, he probably would have had a comeback. But right now, all he can focus on is not blowing his load inside her. 
“Need you to come,” he grunts. She nods eagerly like a puppy and he smirks when her fingers return to her clit, rubbing tight circles. “Need you to come so I can paint that pretty pussy, yeah?” 
“Yes,” she mewls desperately. Her movements get jerkier and sloppier, but Harry has no problem meeting her hips. He thrusts up inside of her to hopefully reach the same spot, though his worry is quickly wiped away when he feels her muscles contract, her face twisting beautifully. 
He can barely help her through her orgasm before he’s pushing her into her side. He’s no longer inside and his hand has switched to keeping her thigh up as he pumps himself, groaning at the sticky mess between them. 
“Wanna feel it,” she whimpers almost pathetically, “Please Professor Styles, cum all over my pussy.” 
That’s all he needs before he’s bursting at the seams, ropes of thick, white cum covering her. He’s a groaning mess and he doesn’t even notice that she’s running her hand through his hair, playing with it gently, until he has nothing left to give. With a final whimper, he lays back against her bed, completely spent. 
When they’ve both caught their breath, Harry turns back onto his side to face her. 
“You alright?” he asks softly. He’s nervous to reach out and thumb at her cheek or press a kiss to her hand. For some reason, he feels like the situation is too delicate right now and he’s at risk of fucking it all up.
Y/N hums, “Mhm. Are you?”
“I am.” he answers with a thick swallow. “Is it okay if I hold you?”
“Please.”
His heart jumps and he wraps an arm around her shoulders, tugging her into his chest. He leans down and kisses her hair. 
They sit in the silence for a bit, Y/N finding comfort in Harry’s constant breathing, the sound of his heartbeat. 
And then: “So you envisioned this?”
She bites at the smile on her lips before she bats at his pecs, “Shut up. I know you did too.”
Harry has no problem admitting that she’s right.
1K notes · View notes
slvtforsimon · 2 months
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Breeding Kink
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Synopsis - The guys and breeding kinks.
Warnings - NSFW.
Word Count - 1.9k.
[Caffeinate Me]
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SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY doesn’t realise he has a breeding kink until you make a joke about it. You’re play fighting, and losing, when you say “just hurry up and get me pregnant so I don’t have to do this anymore.” Simon’s eyes go wide and he feels his throat run dry. The thought of you being pregnant has never occurred to him before, but now you’ve mentioned it he cannot for the life of him stop thinking about it. After that comment, every time you have sex it’s unprotected. He’s ashamed of his newly found kink, but claims that it just ‘feels better’. One night, he’s bullying his fat cock into your tight cunt when the words just slip past his lips. “You gonna make me a daddy tonight, yeah baby?” 
As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it, almost pulling out of you because of the sheer embarrassment he feels. But you respond with “yes! Yes, anything for you!” This just drives Simon absolutely feral. He flips you over onto all fours, pounding into you relentlessly. It doesn’t take long before he’s shooting his cum deep inside of you, coating your walls with his creamy mixture and a loud shout of your name. You’re both laying in bed, breathing heavily as you come down from the orgasms when you turn to look at him. “Did you really mean what you said?” Simon just nods and it hits you. “Oh my God. You have an actual breeding kink!” 
“So what if I do?” He mumbles, looking away from you out of embarrassment. 
“Nothing, nothing,” you giggle lightly before adding, “but you want to make me a mummy.” Simon doesn’t fight you on this, after all it is what he wants. He just holds you close to him, kissing the top of your head as you fall asleep. He hopes that in a few months, there will be a baby Riley running around the house.
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KÖNIG had never had a breeding kink until he met you. Now, he won’t shut up about it. Always brings it up whenever he can, and will always play on it during sex. “Going to fill up. Going to fill you up so good with my babies,” he’d growl in your ear as he pumps his cock into your tight hole. You can’t reply with words, you can just shriek and moan as he hits your cervix again and again, threatening to spill his seed straight into your womb without mercy. The thought of filling you to the brim with his cum and getting you pregnant turns him on so much. He’ll angle your hips just right so that he can be as deep inside you as possible. 
“König!” You cry out, fisting the sheets below you. “I can’t take it! I’m gonna cum!”
“Cum for me,” it comes out as a command and it has you gushing around his cock in an instant. König’s large hands rest on your stomach and he closes his eyes, envisioning you swell with his child and that pushes him over the edge. He’s groaning praises of how good you feel in your ear as he fucks his cum into you, not bothering about the mess you’re making on the bedsheets. When you’ve milked him dry, his hips finally stop moving but he remains plugging you. 
“Baby, you’re squishing me.”
“Gotta make sure it takes,” he whispers, kissing your cheek. There was no way he was moving off of you until morning if it meant there was a possibility of you getting pregnant.
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JOHNNY ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH doesn’t even think about it until he sees you with a friend's baby. You look so good holding a baby and he can’t help but think you’d look even better growing one. One night he’s in between your thighs, eating you out like a man starved when he looks up at you through his lashes and moans into your pussy, “can you give me a baby?” You're taken back by his words, and need a moment to think about it but before you realise it, you’re nodding your head and your legs are trembling as your orgasm washes over you. “Does my girl have a breeding kink?” He asks with a smirk.
“You’re the one with the breeding kink,” you say breathlessly. 
“Aye,” Johnny replies, kissing your thighs until they stop shaking. He leans up to press a kiss on your lips and with a raised eyebrow he asks, “so is that a yes or a no?” 
“Fuck me and we’ll find out,” you reply teasingly, opening your legs wide for him. It’s not long before he’s fucking you into oblivion and making you beg for his cum inside of you. You’re not even embarrassed about it, instead you’re pathetically begging for him to spill his load deep inside your cunt. The second you mention being a mummy to his babies, he’s a goner. His hips are stuttering and his cock is twitching as he cums shamelessly. When he’s finished, he pulls out of you. “I love you Johnny.”
“I love ya too lass.”
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JOHN PRICE is the OG when it comes to breeding kinks. This man is researching the best positions to get you pregnant before you even know it. Is constantly thinking about your swollen stomach, carrying his child that he just wants to make it a reality. One day you opted to babysit for your friend and when John walks in, he’s met with the most lovely sight. You’re sitting on the sofa, humming a lullaby to the infant in your arms with hopes of lulling them to sleep. John smiles and sits down next to you, placing a hand on your thigh and whispering, “good day?”
“Really good day,” you say with a grin. You fail to notice the straining erection against his trousers. 
In less than an hour, your friend swings by to pick up her child and after a cup of tea, eventually leaves you and John alone in your home. That’s when John turns to you with a look of intense lust in his eyes. “Fuck, how badly do you wanna be a mummy?” He asks, stalking closer to you. 
Your eyes widen slightly and you shyly reply, “really badly.” That’s all John needs to hear before he’s ripping your clothes off you, whispering in your ear that he’ll buy you new ones. He pushes you onto the sofa so that you’re on all fours, and frees his hard cock from its restraints. His tip is angrily red and already leaking so much pre-cum. You don’t even have time to joke about it before he slams himself inside of you, thrusting relentlessly into your poor little pussy. “You, ah, really want me to be a mum huh?” You manage to moan through each thrust, a slight little chuckle leaving your lips. 
“You have no idea,” John growls. He lets you cum before he does, as in usual fashion. His fingers work magic against your throbbing clit and you’re spraying all over the sofa before you’re even able to vocalise it. “Now it’s my turn,” he whispers in your ear, speeding up his thrusts until you’re scared that he’s going to break the sofa. With a grunt, he spills his cum inside of you, babbling about how good you’ll look pregnant and that he can’t wait to have babies with you. 
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PHILLIP GRAVES is much like König in the fact that he doesn’t realise he has a breeding kink until he meets you. Your sex life with Phillip is relatively wild and one night, you’re sat talking about your kinks over a glass of wine. “What about you?” You ask, taking a sip of your wine before looking over at Phillip. 
He clears his throat, thinking as to whether he should really tell you this. But before his brain even tells him it could potentially be a bad idea, he’s saying, “I wanna fill you up with cum until you get pregnant.” 
You blink at him rapidly, processing the newly found kink information. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” he says sternly, narrowing his eyes at you. “I want to cum inside your pretty little pussy until you give me a pretty little baby.” Your mouth hangs open, but before you can say anything, Phillip is kissing you roughly while setting your wine glass down on the coffee table. He pulls you onto his lap, erect cock straining against his trousers as he thrusts his hips up against your clothed cunt. You let out a soft moan and allow Phillip to take off your clothes until you’re completely bare before him. “That sound good? Wanna give me a baby?” He coos, tilting his head to the side as he lines his cock up with your entrance. 
“Yes,” you gasp out as he slams into you. 
“Atta girl,” he grins, slamming into you relentlessly. Your back arches and you already feel the coil in your stomach snapping as his cock fills you up perfectly. You can’t help the moans that fall from your lips as he whispers the most obscene things to you. “Gonna fill you up right here and now baby, m’kay? Gonna make everyone know you’re mine with that baby in your belly.” At his words, you’re cumming around him and at the spasming of your cunt around his cock, Phillip cums too. 
Your breathing is heavy as he pulls out of you, half-lidded eyes watching him gather some cum from your thighs and shoving it back inside of you. “I didn’t know you had a breeding kink,” you say breathlessly. 
Phillip shrugged. “Neither did I, until I met you.” 
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KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK is shy about his breeding kink and always keeps it a secret from you. You don’t find out until you’re actively trying for a baby. His cockhead slams into your cervix viciously as you cream around him, pathetically whining for more. “You’re gonna give me a baby aren’t you?” He asks as he continues to pound into you. You nod your head enthusiastically, biting at the skin on your bottom lip to stop a scream from escaping. “Fuck, I’m going to fill you up until you can’t take anymore. Gonna get a baby out of you one way or another.”
“Please!” You cry out, head lolling back against the strown about pillows. Kyle can’t help but cum as your cunt clenches around his fat cock, but he continues thrusting his hips to get as much as he can deep inside of you. Like König, he remains inside of you, desperate not to waste a single drop in fear that his effort was in vain. After a few seconds of breathless panting, you finally speak up. “I never knew you had a breeding kink.”
“Didn’t want to tell you before we were trying, just in case it spooked you,” he replied, kissing your cheek softly. 
“You really wanna have a baby with me?” You ask softly as your fingertips trail patterns on his back.
“More than I need air to breathe,” he mumbles, burying his head into the crook of your neck and leaving wet kisses in his wake. 
“Let me have a minute and we can go again,” you say with a grin. Kyle feels his cock harden inside you again at your words and within seconds he’s slowly thrusting into you again. Let’s just say, you both didn’t get much sleep that night.
2K notes · View notes
etherealyoungk · 16 days
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— ✦ sugar & spice | jeon wonwoo
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PAIRING: bodyguard!wonwoo x celebrity!reader (fem!reader)
SUMMARY: it wasn’t your fault you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, however, the people had a lot to say about that, especially since your father a public figure. but when he’s falsely accused of taking bribes and money laundering, your whole life falls apart, and things start to get out of hand and dangerous. that’s when you meet wonwoo - the bodyguard who’s been assigned to stay by your side and protect you 24/7. the only problem? he was really cold, but also irresistibly attractive. it was going to be a task to try and befriend him, but who said you weren’t up for the challenge. 
THEMES: bodyguard au, mutual pining, slow burn
WARNINGS: use of curse words, mentions of anxiety, social anxiety, panic attack, crowds, fighting, violence, kissing, suggestive, just wonwoo being a whole heartthrob
WORDCOUNT: 29.2k
A/N: this fic was so self-indulgent oh my god. thank you to rania @wheeboo for feeding my delusions for this fic and proofreading it for me, ilysm <33 reblogs and feedback are always appreciated ^^ i would love to know your thoughts! enjoy reading ^^
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full fic under the cut
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“all right, class, that’s it for today. please come collect your mock test papers as you exit”, the professor announces and everyone starts talking, the room echoing with voices and movement as people get up, their feet shuffling as they stand in line to collect their papers from the front.
you come up in front and your professor gives you a smile as he hands yours back to you. “good job yn, near perfect score”, he says and you smile back. “thanks prof”, you tell, beaming as you take your paper and move. but you don’t miss the snide remark told by someone behind you and the few laughs that occur. but you ignore the comment and walk away.
you were used to people telling you that, people envying you and not in a nice way. you’d heard all kinds of things all your life. “bet they only got in because of her connections” or “they’re only top of the class because of they’re father’s influence” but all of those were very untrue. you were truly passionate about what you were studying and doing, but the people didn’t seem to think so. 
yes, you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, coming from a prestigious family with a lot of influence - your dad being a huge business tycoon, which made your family really rich and influential. but growing up, you wanted nothing more than to be not associated with him. your name was always tied with his - and you hated that. it never gave you the chance to be your own person, to have your own identity, which you craved for.
growing up only became harder when your mother passed away when you were still young. she was ill and there was nothing that could be done to save her, it had been too late. your moments and memories with her were limited considering you were only ten when she passed away, but still, everything you remembered about her you cherished, and you aimed to make her proud one day, proud of the person you’ve become. as a token from your mother, you had kept her ring and no, not her wedding ring, but another ring she wore. it was a dainty ring with a pretty pattern and you had always loved that ring as a child. so now you wore it, to remember her, to keep some part of her with you.
and of course, with growing up, the biggest struggle of all for you was making friends. when you were younger, you were actually good at making friends, you had plenty in fact. but as you grew up, you learned to see who was just befriending you for ulterior motives and whatnot, and you soon became good at filtering who you really became friends - close friends with. but in all those years, you only made two friends like that. they were the purest and sweetest souls ever - rania and skye. they were your best friends. they were your childhood friends and the only ones you opened up to and grew close to. while you still had a group of friends you interacted with on an everyday and casual basis, there wasn’t anyone you were close with besides them. there was also your current boyfriend - jaehyun. it was silly really, you had a crush on him for a while and soon the news spread from god knows where and one day he asked you out. you were so head over heels that you said yes of course, because which fool would turn down their crush? 
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you're sitting across the table from your father, who’s busy talking to someone on the phone. it was a weekly thing that you had to have dinner at your father’s house.
"yes i want to see a sample of the product before we send it into manufacturing”, your father speaks to the person on the other line.
you stare down at your plate, moving your fork around as you listen to him speak. you and your father didn’t have the best relationship, it was rocky and messy, to say the least. ever since your mother passed away, you both drifted apart, your father focusing on the business and you just trying to get through the days as you tried to cope with the sudden loss. and you both somehow stayed like that, drifted apart. but that didn’t mean he was a bad guy. he still did nice things for you and you both had your moments, but it was strained. let's just say he wasn't the best father figure growing up.
you were used to having filler conversations about your life with your father like this. all he does is nod before he goes back to scrolling on his phone. half the time during your childhood and even now, you barely saw your father. he was always busy with work or attending meetings about god knows what. so that meant you were all alone in the big house which got lonely. that’s when you decided to move into a different house, have your own space and make it cosy too. at first, your father wasn’t too keen on the idea, but you were old enough now, in college too, so he agreed. so now you live alone in a house comfortable enough to make into your own little safe haven.
you unlock your front door, sliding into your house slippers as you trudge inside, discarding your bag on the couch as you open the fridge to grab a bottle of cold water to refresh yourself. today had been a long day. apart from studies, you also volunteered at a local cat shelter for rescues and the local public library. you enjoyed doing both things so you were more than happy to volunteer. they both had their perks 1) free cuddles and serotonin from all the kittens and cats 2) you could borrow as many books as you wanted so it was a win-win.
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you were used to your father being on the news, he was a businessman after all, an influential man, someone important. but with all that came all the trolls, the hate and people who were obviously jealous and disliked him for no reason at all. all this in turn was also directed towards you. you were often called the silver spoon kid, nepo baby, or someone who’s life was handed to you on a silver platter. for the most of the time, you tried to ignore them, but of course as any normal human, it affected you. you hated it at times infact. you hated how people could concoct a ridiculous assumption about you based on nothing and it infuriated you. but you’d learn to grow up with it, grow up being watched, hounded at, judged at and trolled at. that was what you get for simply existing and being born in a wealthy family. and somewhere along the way you developed an anxiety about this and it made you scared to get close and open up to people. 
when you first joined college, it was hell. people took pictures without your consent all the time and they still did at times, but you’ve given up at trying to stop it. you were used to people's cameras at you, fingers at you, talking about you and also using you. everyone wanted to be your friend and butter you up to you, but when you started putting boundaries, they were quick to call you names. you were surrounded by paparazzi going to you during the first week and even now on the occasional basis, someone was always following you and snapping pictures of you. even if you told yourself it was okay, it was not and deep down you hated it. but what could you do? 
your father, well he didn’t seem to mind all the comments being told about him, as long as his business went well at the end of the day. but if you were going to be honest, your father was pretty smart and he had a knack for what he was doing, that’s what made him so successful. but that didn’t mean he didn’t hit bumps along the way, oh he did. you still remember the headline your father made when he invested money into a broken startup. but now he was making millions as the company took off. 
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today morning was a good day. the sun was shining bright and the clouds were white against the blue sky. it wasn’t too hot, a comfortable temperature - it was the ideal day and you were more than happy about this weather. you get ready for college, it was your last semester before you graduated. you grab your phone from the desk table only to realise it was dead and you plug it in as you head to the bathroom to get ready. you quickly put on an outfit, grab your books, bag, and your phone on the way out. you lock your door and raise your hand to unlock your car, opening the door and sitting inside. you drive to college, putting on some music, in a good mood today as you softly sing along to the song that was playing on the radio.
you park your car in the parking lot, which was already crowded and you mentally cursed at the way people parked sometimes. you exit the car and walk towards campus, trying to unlock your phone but it doesn't open. that’s when you realise it was still dead - silly you had forgot to turn on the switch when you plugged your phone in. you mentally curse as you walk towards class, hoping someone had a spare phone charger for you to use. but that’s when you get a feeling - a feeling that you were being watched. and when you glance up, you can see people looking at you, whispering things in hushed voices between themselves. you brushed it off as nothing and continued walking.
a couple of people pass by you, looking right at you as they pass a comment. “see i knew your father was a crooked man”, he tells and the others laugh as they walk away. what? you were completely confused and the fact that almost everyone was looking at you as you kept walking made you nervous all of a sudden. this wasn’t good. you spot your professor and he comes walking towards you, in big strides, like he is in a hurry. “hello yn”, he says, faking a smile. “hello professor”, you reply. “i would like to have a word with you, please follow me”. he says and you can still feel everyone’s eyes on you as you walk behind your professor.
he closes the door behind him and urges you to sit down as he takes a seat in front of you.
“i’m sorry to hear about your father yn”, he starts and you furrow your brows, utterly confused. “i would like for you to meet with the principal so we can hopefully come to an understanding about how you will be completing your semester over here”, he continues and you’re lost.
“i’m sorry but i don’t quite follow”, you say, and he just blinks back at you. 
“do you not know? have you not seen the news?”, he asks, surprised. 
“what news?”, you ask again and watch as he fetches out his phone, handing it to you. and there it was, the headline that made your jaw drop.
“mr. __ a certified criminal, took bribes and laundered money”. 
what the fuck? your eyes quickly scan the article, reading the things your father was being accused of. there was no way he would do that, he wouldn't you thought. you look back up at your professor and hand the phone back to him, at a complete loss for words.
“i really had no idea about this”, you tell. “i think it would be better for you to go home today and then we can have a talk about this later this week along with the principal okay”, he says and you’re dismissed. you take a deep breath as you open the door and walk out, and hallway is quick to quiet down and you can feel the eyes of everyone on you. 
“hope your father rots in jail”, you hear a guy say and the others laugh. you hear a few more snide remarks as you walk out back to your car and you take a deep breath again. what the fuck was happening right now. you start the car and drive to your father’s house because you need answers.
you storm into the house, and your father is already sitting down at the table with his lawyer. “can someone please explain what is going on”, you yell as soon as you see your father. 
“yn” , your father says, upon seeing you. 
“you took bribes??”, you ask and you can see the small flash of hurt on his face before he composes himself as he answers you. “no yn, this is simply not true. i am being falsely accused”, he says calmly.
“so what’s going to happen now?”, you ask.
“this is defamation, there is absolutely no evidence to these claims”, your father fills in.
a week passes by and you somehow manage to make it to class, but obviously, everyone is still talking about you. rumors are goingand around like wildfire and people keep telling you nasty things, leaving you mean comments on your social media. even the paparazzi around you are following you everywhere suddenly and you hate this. your whole world was turning upside down and you find yourself driving to your father’s house that evening again, only to see people crowded around the house. puzzled, you get out of your car and you're immediately surrounded by the paparazzi and a hound of people as they recognise you. you see your father in the crowd and that’s when you notice the police officers and then the handcuff on your father’s hands.
“father!”, you yell out and he looks at you. you try to move forward, make your way towards him but someone pushes you down before someone else grabs your hand. “you little thief, no wonder you’re so rich”, he mutters out and you try to pry his hand off you but he doesn’t let go. “yn!” you hear your father yell and soon the police pry the man off you. you watch as your father is escorted into the police vehicle he’s driven off. 
the camera flashes continue and people keep yelling nasty things and you run towards your car, getting in and following the police car. at the police station, you get a chance to talk to your father with his lawyer present. 
“what is happening?”, you ask. “i thought you said this was a false accusation, why are you being arrested?”, you ask, looking between your father and his lawyer, jeonghan who was a competent man in his line of business.
“it seems there has been some evidence found", your father says, in a rather relaxed manner. 
“so what’s going to happen now?”, you ask, worried.
“i will have to stand trial and prove my innocence”, he adds. you see as he glances down at your wrist which you’re massaging gently. 
“are you okay, i saw what happened back there’, he adds. 
“y-yeah im okay”, you tell quickly. 
“no, this is not okay. you’re going to be affected by all the things happening now and things are getting dangerous and out of hand”, he tells. 
“i can manage”, you say.
“no, you cannot, things will only get worse from here, especially when the trial starts and they are all going to be taking their anger out on you. i cannot risk anything happening to you. so it’s decided”, your father says.
“what’s decided?”, you ask.
“you’ll be having a bodyguard with you 24/7 from now onwards”, your father adds.
“what? father there is no need-", you start before you're interrupted.
“yn listen to your father, he is right” jeonghan interjects and you sigh. there was no point arguing over here. in hindsight, things were bound to get out of control and having a bodyguard around did seem wise. the thought that something worse could happen to you makes you shiver.
“hire only the best”, my father tells and jeonghan nods. “i know just the person” he tells, assuring my father. 
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you didn’t step out of your house the next day. paparazzi surrounded your home and you were in no ability to go out without being followed. the pictures of your father’s arrest and your face were plastered all over the internet and new articles, with all sorts of headlines. by 12pm everyone seemed to have gotten tired of waiting (thank god) and your driveway was finally clear. you’re in jeans and a top, rummaging through your pantry when you hear your doorbell ring. you immediately stand straight. who could this be?
you walk towards your door and peek through the peephole but you can only see the body of someone and you hear a voice you recognise. your father’s lawyer - jeonghan, so you open the door. 
“i didn’t know you were coming”, you tell and smile. “i texted you”, he adds. “must've missed it”, you add before glancing at the other man standing next to him, who you noticed was quite tall.
“please come in “, you add only for jeonghan to refuse. “no no, i must get going to prepare for your father’s case. i just came to introduce you to your bodyguard”, he explains. 
“oh, i see”, you tell softly. 
“he’ll be with you wherever you’re going. escort and protect you wherever you’re going. i’ve already briefed him and given him a copy of your schedules, but if you’re going anywhere, he is to accompany you”, he tells you, making sure you knew, like he knew you would try to sneak off. 
“yes yes alright”, you tell, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“well, get introduced then, i have to get going”, he tells, as his phone rings and he walks off, leaving you standing in front of the door with this mysterious man.
as you look at him, you realise how tall he was because wow, he was really tall, and really handsome. he towered over you easily as you looked up at him. he’s wearing a clean, crisp black suit, which has been tailored to his body, making the fit perfect, showing off his build and his hair was styled to expose his forehead. his foxy-like eyes hold a mysterious but focused gaze. damn, he was hot. your eyes sweep over his body one more time before he’s clearing his throat and you're shaken away from your thoughts.
“hello, im jeon wonwoo and i'll be your bodyguard from today”, he tells, his voice deep as he looks at you, his alluring gaze catching your attention.
“hi! i’m yn! nice to meet you”, you say a little too enthusiastically as you hold out your hand for a handshake. you’re already cringing at your actions but wonwoo reaches out and shakes your hand nonetheless and gives you a small nod. 
after that there is a moment of awkward silence before you speak again. “um i don’t think i’ll be going anywhere today so you can start tomorrow”, you tell. you didn’t want him to be waiting around unnecessarily. he just looks down at you.
“i have been assigned to stay by your side at all times”, he tells. “but i’m just going to be home”, you tell. “it’s fine uh - i can call you wonwoo right?”, you ask and he gives you a curt yes.
“right wonwoo, it’s all right, just clock off work, it’s fine for today”, you tell and he looks like he’s thinking before he speaks again. 
“if you insist”, is all he says before he gives you a small nod of acknowledgement, telling you he’ll be here tomorrow before he’s turning around and walking off. 
the next morning, you’re sleeping peacefully when you hear your doorbell ring. who was at your doorstep so early? you must be hearing things you think. after a few moments you hear your doorbell ring again and you groan as you let out a yawn, unwillingly getting out of bed as you drag your feet to the door, your eyes barely open, still laced with sleep. you open the door to see a tall figure in front of you, your eyes still unfocused and you're confused before you hear the voice.
“good morning”, he tells and you blink your eyes a couple of times before you realise who it was. 
“oh wonwoo hi”, you tell, trying to process this information. “it’s only uh-”  “7am”, he fills in.
“right, 7am”, you tell, yawning again. “why are you here so early?”, you ask and your eyes a bit more awake now to take in the sight in front of you. wonwoo was adorned in another crisp suit, his hair perfectly styled and you could smell the waft of his cologne as you stood.
“my working hours start from 7am”, he tells matter of factly. “right, uh okay just come in”, you tell, moving inside, not bothering to see if he was following you. you go back to your room to fetch your phone, seeing an email from your professor. they wanted to have a meeting with the principal - well this couldn’t be good. 
the entire time you’re getting ready, wonwoo is just standing in one corner of your hall. you told him he could sit but he insisted on standing so you just shrug your shoulders and let it go. you don’t have the time to eat breakfast and you lock your house door, about to get in the car when wonwoo speaks again. 
“i’ll drive”, he tells, holding his hand out for the key. 
“oh no, it’s fine i can manage”, you tell.
“i’ve been told to drive you wherever you need”, he adds, looking at you and he had the look of someone you did not want to interfere in his work with.
there was no point arguing with this man was there? you sigh, handing him the key and sitting in the front seat next to him because sitting in the complete back would  make you feel weird. wonwoo somehow knew the route to your college and he parks the car effortlessly in the parking lot, which is honestly impressive. (or you just had bad parking skills shh)
you see the crowd as you step out, and through all the people and you can even spot a few paparazzi if you looked carefully. you glance back at wonwoo and then the campus entrance. if you went with wonwoo, you were definitely going to get attention - unwanted attention that is. he was obviously going to stand out in that outfit of his. 
“just stay here, i’ll be back, it’ll be quick”, you say.
“i'm afraid i can’t do that, i’m assingned to accompany you wherever you go as your bodyguard”, he says, looking at you.
“i know, but i’ll be quick, nothing will happen”, you add as you unbuckle your seatbelt.
“i will be accompanying you”, he responds. even with all those looks he was really dense huh, it was like talking to a wall.
“fine god just come”, you finally tell, slightly annoyed. jeonghan really got you a tough bodyguard didn't he.
as soon as you step foot on campus, everyone’s head turns towards you and obviously everyone is whispering something about the man following behind you - wonwoo. you mentally curse as the crowd around you becomes larger as you walk, everyone stopping to see what was going on. wonwoo is quick to maintain an arm’s distance outside as he walks beside you and making sure people don't surround you. you try to look down as you just walk ahead, straight into the principal's office. wonwoo stands outside. 
“yn glad you could make it”, your professor says, as the principal sits beside, just giving you a small nod. 
“what did we need to talk about”, you ask, looking between your principal and professor.
you watch as your principal sits up straighter, interlocking his palms on the table before they speak. 
“i know you just have a semester left before you graduate”, he starts off. “but given the current situation, it would be hard for us to continue classes with you being present”, he adds.
“i could do online classes”, you suggest but you principle just shakes his head.
“yn, we acknowledge the effort and dedication you have demonstrated throughout your academic journey at our institution. your accomplishments have been commendable, and we recognize the hard work you have put into your studies”, he starts. “we really do yn”, your professor adds.
“but we have to bring attention to a significant concern that has risen due to recent incidents involving you and a related controversy”, your principal continues.
oh god, where was this conversation going. you’re about to open your mouth to speak when your principle starts talking again. 
“the college has carefully assessed the situation and after thorough consideration, it has been determined that unfortunately, you will be unable to graduate at this time. this decision is a result of the impact of the controversy on the overall reputation and values of the institution”, he finishes and it takes you two seconds to fully understand the situation and what was exactly going on right now.
“what?”, you let out, shocked. “we know this might be sudden but we are-”, 
“no no, this is not fair, you can’t do this”, you interject. 
“it is fair, considering the reputation of our institution is on the line”, he adds. 
“excuse me?”, you scoff. “i'm in no way related to what is going on right now”, you add.
“it is involving your father”, he says. “exactly, my father, not me. so i do not see why you would have to go to this extreme”, you tell, not letting this go lightly.
“yn”, your professor says in a warning tone.
“four years. four years of my life i’ve spent studying and working hard and you’re just gonna throw that all away and not let me graduate over a controversy? over something that is not true let me tell you that”, you tell, upset. “that’s not right and not fair”, you add. “letting me graduate is the least you can do, it’s only a semester come on”, you plead. 
“the decision is final”, your principal tells. 
“what no, you can let me take the semester later, i can still graduate then”, you suggest, trying to be hopeful but the air in the room was tense.
“yn thank you for your time and we wish you all the luck in your future”, you principal tells, completely dismissing you. 
“you can’t do this, you’ll be hearing from me remember that”, you tell, standing up and pulling the door open, walking out. the hallways are thankfully relatively empty because it’s class hours and everyone was in the lecture halls or study rooms. but as you turn you bump into jaehyun. 
“jaehyun hi!”, you tell as you approach him. “i'm so sorry i haven’t been able to text you, i’ve been so occupied”, you tell as jaehyun barely looks at you as you speak, checking his phone, texting someone else. 
“i’m free this week though so i thought we could go out to dinner or something”, you suggest, hoping that maybe a date would help you get your mind off things.
“yeah i’m not sure about that”, he tells. “oh are you busy? we can-”
“listen yn, considering everything going on right now, i wouldn’t want to be seen with you”, he tells and you’re hurt by his words. 
“but i don’t see how that matters if you like me”, you tell, trying to hold it together. 
jaehyun only lets out a small laugh. “like you? i only dated you because you were rich, was a nice thing to boast about until your dad had to be revealed as a thief”, he tells, mocking you and his words sting.
“that’s not true”, you tell. “i hope he rots in jail”, he adds, before leaving, having completely trampled over your heart and feelings. 
you’ve completely forgotten about wonwoo and it’s only when you turn around that you see him, a few paces behind you and no doubt he heard everything, just great. you bite the inside of your cheek as you look down, walking ahead and walking straight to the car, embarrassed but also upset. you get in the car, not bothering for wonwoo to open the door for you and sit inside, tears welling in your eyes. wonwoo stands outside like he’s unsure, giving you a moment of privacy before you’re rolling down the window and telling him to drive you home.
the car ride is quiet and you’re just looking out the window the entire time, trying not to cry. it wasn't fair. any of this wasn’t fair. you just wanted to curl up and hide right now. you can feel your stomach rumbling, protesting for not being given breakfast and you sigh, putting a hand on your stomach. now that you were aware, you were actually really hungry. you had half the mind to stop somewhere and buy something but you didn’t want to deal with people right now. 
“did you eat breakfast?”, you ask wonwoo, feeling suffocated with the silence in the car. 
“not exactly, but i did eat something”, he informs. you nod your head, thinking of what else to ask him.
“so how come you chose this bodyguard business”, you ask, glancing over at wonwoo.
“it suits me, i’m good at it”, he replies, giving you a short answer. 
“right, i see”. 
a few more seconds of silence follows before wonwoo speaks. “are you okay?”, he asks, his eyes still trained on the road ahead of him. his question takes you aback. it had been ages since someone asked you that. are you okay? those three words that had the capability of making you rethink your life and look into yourself. were you okay? no, not really. life sucked right now and you wanted nothing more than to just curl up in bed and cry. 
“i-i don’t know”, you answer, letting out a sigh as your fingers play with your mother's ring on your hand, something you did when you were anxious or lost in thought. 
“i’m used to it, it’s fine”, you add quickly.
after a few more minutes, wonwoo is pulling up into your driveway and he parks the car, getting out. you don’t know how this man managed to walk so fast because just as you’re about to turn your body to open the door, wonwoo is already there, holding the car door open for you. 
“oh um thank you”, you tell softly as you get out. 
you realized it was going to take you a while to break into wonwoo’s wall and befriend him. it looked like he was going to be with you for a while, until the trial was over atleast so might as well become friends. he did prove to be a hell though, it was like talking to a robot, but who said you weren’t up for the challenge?
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it’s a new week and wonwoo is driving you to the cat shelter since it’s your day to volunteer today. atleast during all these sudden changes in your life, this was a constant. it felt comforting in a way. the animal shelter was run by a sweet lady who also adored you. coming here always made you feel better, no matter how shitty your day had been. 
you enter the shelter and immediately all the cats recognise your scent and meow, as if they were welcoming you. the owner comes out to see what the commotion was about and smiles upon seeing you.
“yn! it’s so nice to see you”, she greets, pulling you in for a hug. 
“it’s good to be back”, you tell. 
“who’s this mystery man”, she asks, referring to wonwoo.
“my bodyguard. with everything happening and the trial and all, things are getting out of hand ”, you explain and she nods. “quite the catch isn’t he”, she says, teasing you and you chuckle.
“i'm so sorry to hear about all this though, just know i’m here for you”, she tells. 
“thank you”, you tell, grateful.
“well you carry on, i just need to finish writing these invoices and i’ll join you”, she adds, walking back to the office room and you’re left alone with all the cats.
“hello fluffy”, you tell, looking down to the cat who’s brushing against your legs, 
wonwoo stands at the side of the room like he’s been punished even though you again insist that he can sit down but he insists on standing. you sigh, whatever suited him. you turn your attention back to the cats surrounding you and start your duties. 
you had to clean their litter, feed them and make sure the ones who were on medication were given the medicine. after you’re done cleaning the litter, you realise you need to open a new bag of litter, the only problem? it was 15kgs heavy and in no way were you capable of lifting that huge bag to the litterbox area. you go back to the front and wonwoo is still standing, his hands neatly folded in front of him as he just stares at the wall. he really needs to relax you thought. you walk up to him, hands on your hip.
“i need your help, come here”, you ask and you hear the shuffle of wonwoo’s feet behind you as you walk. 
“can you help me lift this?”, you ask, holding one end of the bag. wonwoo doesn’t say a word as he holds the bag and lifts it himself effortlessly and carries it to where you want it. damn, he was strong. 
you fill up the box with new litter, washing your hands and come back to the front. 
“i have a surprise for you”, you hear the owner say and she walks towards one of the boxes covered by a cloth. she uncovers it and a second later you hear a high pitched meow, followed by another and another. 
“oh my god”, you squeal. “poe littered! i completely forgot she was due”, you tell, looking as she brings the box down and the kittens overflow out of the box in a frenzy, climbing out of the box and making their way towards you with their wobbly but determined feet. you bend down to see them and they’re adorable. you watch as the battalion of kittens make their way to wonwoo, climbing on his shoes and meowing up at him, ambushing him practically.
you giggle as one cheeky kitten even climbs up wonwoo’s suit and all the way to his shoulder, sitting there perched while wonwoo just stands there, completely ignoring the fact that he was being attacked by vicious kittens right now. 
“you should adopt that one, it likes you”, you tell as you hold a kitten in your hands, referring to the one sitting perched on his shoulder. 
“i already have a cat at home”, he tells and this piece of information makes you raise your brows in surprise.
“really? you have a cat”, you ask in surprise. “i do”, he answers quietly.
“oh my god, show me a picture”, you ask.
wonwoo only blinks at you. “i refrain from using my phone during work hours”, he tells smoothly and you roll your eyes. 
“come on wonwoo, don’t be like that. it’s fine, just show me”, you ask again. “please?”, you add and wonwoo looks at you for a few more seconds before he’s moving his hand to remove his phone from his jacket pocket. the kitten on his shoulder makes a move, almost about to fall but wonwoo is quick to catch it and it’s now sitting in the palm of his hand, as he operates his phone with the other hand. he turns his phone towards you, revealing the picture of his cat. 
“her name is oreo”, he tells.
“aww she’s so pretty and so cute!!”, you exclaim. wonwoo’s cat was gorgeous actually. she was a black cat with white paws, white whiskers and a patch of white on her neck and chest. 
“she’s a rescue too”, he adds, and that little piece of information lifts your heart. 
“that’s nice. her little white paws are adorable oh my gosh”, you tell as you smile up at wonwoo. “they’re like little socks”, you say, chuckling at yourself as you hand his phone back to him. you notice how the kitten in his hand was busy chewing the end of his tie. if you looked carefully, you could see the faintest hint of a smile on his lips right now as he watched the kitten playing in his hands. how cute.
wonwoo drives you back home after you finish all your duties at the shelter and you get a text from jeonghan about your father’s trial. the first trial was set for next week. 
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you're just at home and you’re certainly not used to the intrusion to your sleep at 7am every day now when wonwoo comes to work to start his duties. you told him to stay at home and you’d call him if you needed him but no, he didn’t listen. so here he was at 7am on the dot everyday at your doorstep. you yawn as you open the door, mumbling something to wonwoo about changing his work timings to 9am instead. 
you’re brushing your teeth, walking around the room and you can see wonwoo standing as usual. you wash your face and head towards the kitchen. you needed coffee now. you glance towards wonwoo occasionally because honestly, even if he was just standing there, he looked so….effortlessly handsome. oh my god. you should not be having these thoughts right now. it was too early for this. you really needed some coffee to get your head straight.
“do you want some coffee?”, you ask wonwoo as you look at him.
“i’m good, thank you”, he says. of course he was going to say that.
“how do you like your coffee?”, you prod him again. 
“black”, he says.
and of course he likes his coffee black. 
“well, i like a latte, ice or hot depending on my mood, sometimes with caramel sauce if i’m feeling fancy but otherwise mostly plain”, you tell, dumping this piece of information onto wonwoo as you struggle to open your coffee powder jar. you try again but it wasn’t budging. you try again this time, trying to concentrate all your strength onto your hand, but it didn’t work and it wasn’t opening. without a word, wonwoo comes forward and offers to open it. he takes the jar from your hands and opens it effortlessly in one shot, probably because of his super strength. you mumble out a thank you and instead of letting him go back to that sad corner beside the wall, you ask him to take a seat in front.
“wonwoo, you should know that you standing there at the side of the room like you’ve been punished is just extremely weird. please sit, i’m not gonna kill you, seriously, i’m a nice person”, you explain, your hand pointing to the stool that was on the left of him. “i would prefer-”, he starts. “no, i would prefer if you just sat please. you’re supposed to listen to whatever i say right”, you tell, looking at him with your hands crossed over your chest.
he doesn’t say anything but finally takes a seat and you do a little celebration inside your head. “see! that’s so much better”, you tell, already feeling at ease. 
you continue making your coffee and you’re halfway through making your coffee when you hear your doorbell ring. you glance at wonwoo before putting your mug down. but wonwoo gets up, telling you he’ll check who it was. 
“who are you?”, you hear wonwoo ask as he opens the door and you walk up to the door, curious. “who is it?”, you ask and when the person comes into view, you let out an excited squeal.
“RANIAA”, you exclaim, accidentally pushing wonwoo to the side as you pull rania inside, only to see skye behind them. “OH MY GOD”, you exclaim again, pulling rania into a hug and then skye. meanwhile wonwoo just stands in the corner of the cramped doorstep, regaining his balance from your not so subtle shove.
“what are you guys doing here”, you ask, once all the excitement has toned down and both rania and skye are seated on the couch. 
“we’ve been seeing the news and everything that’s been happening”, skye says.
“so we came to support you, it must be so hard right now”, rania adds. 
“aw you guys are really the best”, you tell. it had been years since you last saw them, both of them having moved to different countries. though you guys were separated by distance, you were still connected by your unhinged and chaotic group chat.
“by the way, who’s the handsome hunk over there”, rania asks, not so subtly. 
“rania jeez, he’s my bodyguard calm down”, you tell but you don’t miss the glint in their eyes. 
“is he single”, rania asks and you glare at them.
“stop it”, you tell and skye chuckles beside you.
“wait, weren’t you dating jaehyun?”, skye adds and your face falls. “yeah about that, he uh dumped me”, you tell and skye is quick to pull you in a reassuring embrace. 
“this is your sign to date that guy, shoot your shot before it’s too late bestie”, rania encourages, making you laugh. 
“enough about me, how are you guys? how’s seungkwan and soonyoung”, you ask, eager to know more about them. you watch as rania and skye exchange a glance between themselves before looking at you.
“they’re coming here tomorrow”, they tell in unison and you almost yell. “really?”, you ask, shocked but also excited. 
“they wanted to see you too so we dragged them along with us, but there was a goof up with the plane tickets and they had to rebook on a different flight”, skye explains. 
“it’s okay, we can all go out together tomorrow”, you tell and they smile. 
rania and skye end up going back at the end of the day and poor wonwoo had to witness you three maybe talk a little too much. you were sure he was glad when he clocked off work, beyond relieved he didn’t have to hear you all chatter anymore. even though you told him he could leave early, that you were going to just be home, he again didn't listen to you, saying that he would stay, saying something about upholding his duty. rania bombarded him with too many questions and you were sure he was going to get more from seungkwan and soonyoung tomorrow, poor guy. 
the next day you’re excited to see your besties again and wonwoo is yet again standing near the wall like he’s a statue. you’ve given up at this point really. before they arrived, you briefed wonwoo on being nice to them, especially to seungkwan and soonyoung, who were probably going to hound him with questions again today. “don’t be mean to them if they ask you questions”, you tell, pointing a finger at wonwoo. “be nice to them okay?”, you tell, adding a little glare to make sure your point went across. 
you wear a simple yet cute outfit and before you know it, your house is filled with laughter and smiles as soonyoung and seungkwan greet you. 
“oh my god, it’s so nice to see you guys!”, you tell, excited as soonyoung and seungkwan smile back at you. “same here yn”, they tell. 
“we planned a little double date”, skye tells. “make it a triple date, you can ask wonwoo to join”, rania adds, winking at you and you roll your eyes at her.
“who is what”, seungkwan asks, finally noticing the other presence in the room.
“my bodyguard. given the current situation my father thought it would be best”, you explain. 
“woah he looks strong”, soonyoung adds and before you know it, both the boys make their way to wonwoo while you girls decide on where to go for your little double or well triple date.
“hello”, soonyoung says to wonwoo. wonwoo only responds with a small nod of his head, standing still. 
“how long have you been a bodyguard for?”, seungkwan asks.
wonwoo glances at seungkwan, looks him up and down before answering. “four years”, wonwoo tells. 
“woah! so how’d you become one? is there like a special training school for this?”, soonyoung asks, completely serious and utterly curious. 
“it’s a sub branch in the security industry”, is all wonwoo answers with. 
“can i ask you a question”, seungkwan asks, bringing his hand around wonwoo’s shoulder which wonwoo shrugs off in a second. 
“what do you think of yn?”, seungkwan adds, acting like he wasn’t just shrugged off by wonwoo.
“yn is my client”, wonwoo says, like he’s stating a fact.
“i know she’s your client dude but what do you think of her, you know?”, seungkwan adds, trying to knock some sense into wonwoo, who clearly didn’t have any romantic braincell.
“you should take her out on a date, cheer her up. i'm sure she feels bad about everything happening with her father and all”, seungkwan explains nicely.
“yeah!”, soonyoung adds. we’re going on a double date anyway, you can join us and it’ll become a triple date”, soonyoung adds with enthusiasm. 
wonwoo just stares at these two boys like they’re idiots before answering. “that’s not in my job description”, he tells.
seungkwan visibly gets annoyed. “man, you’re really dense you know”, he adds. “it’s gonna hurt your romantic life in the long run buddy”, seungkwan adds with a look. 
wonwoo doesn’t say anything and that was the last straw for seungkwan and he grabs soonyoung’s arm, both of them making their way to the couch where you were busy chatting.
“okay, so we’re getting sushi”, rania announces and everyone cheers. you guys headed to the sushi place, wonwoo, you, rania and skye in one car and seungkwan and soonyoung following behind in the car they rented. you reach the sushi place and you guys sit inside. it seemed like today was your lucky day because you didn’t see any paps around or didn’t anyone seem to recognise you. you all took a seat while wonwoo told you that he’d wait by the car. you asked him (while rania almost yelled at him to join us) but he was stern about staying by the car. you let him be because you didn’t want to inconvenience him at the end of the day. you weren’t going to cross his boundaries if he didn’t want to. you finish your sushi date and come home happy and satisfied.
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later that week, you get to meet with jeonghan, your father’s lawyer, to see how things are going regarding your father’s trial. 
“so mr. jeon has been telling me you haven’t been going to college? i know things have been bad but missing classes in your last semester is not the thing to be doing”, jeonghan tells.
“he’s reporting to you now is he?”, you ask, your brow raised. “well i did hire him”, he adds.
“i’m not missing classes on purpose…it’s just that”, you start sighing. “they told me i can’t graduate because of everything happening and father’s controversy. something about damaging the institution’s reputation”, you tell and jeonghan sits up straighter.
“why didn’t you tell me anything before?”, jeonghan asks. 
“i was going to! but then it just slipped my mind, and i know you’ve been busy too”, you add, hoping to redeem yourself.
jeonghan gives you a knowing look. “yn this is no small matter, i will look into this and make sure you can graduate. this is a ridiculous thing to do”, he tells and you nod in approval. “thanks” , you tell and he nods.
“how are you finding your bodyguard?”, jeonghan asks and you already sigh.
“he’s so…i don’t know, he’s so good at what he does but also kinda intimidating. he barely speaks it feels like i’m talking to a wall half the time”, you tell, chuckling. “but he’s cute”, you add, that tiny detail making jeonghan laugh.
“i think it’ll take some time to befriend him but i’m on it”, you add and jeonghan gives you a look. “just don’t get too close”, he adds with a warning. 
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you were at the library today, you needed an escape and books seemed like the perfect solace right now. you’re wearing a simple outfit, black jeans with a purple top and a jacket on top because somehow even though the sun was up, the air was chilly and windy. you’re busy arranging the books that have been borrowed back in their rightful places, already knowing which book and genre goes where. wonwoo follows you around silently while you’re aimlessly talking to him about each book you pick up and put back on the shelf, offering him information about it - if you had read it, if it was on your TBR, if it was good, bad or worth a read. wonwoo seemed to be listening to you keenly. you grab the next book, and start telling wonwoo about it.
“i read this book years ago and i still love it to this date, the characters were so funny. but if i’m being honest the guy in this book was kinda an ass”, you add, as you locate the book’s spot on the shelf that was all the way at the top. you went on your tiptoes to reach it, trying to place it but missed. “and now that i’m older, the girl in the book was also a bit stupid you know, like-” you continue, but you feel wonwoo come up behind you and see his hand reach out, taking the book from your outstretched arm and placing in on the shelf with ease. you turn around, looking up at wonwoo, who is now so close to you. 
“why do you think the character was stupid?”, he asks, looking at you curiously. you blink up at him before answering, your mind suddenly distracted as you try to form a coherent sentence. “you know like-it was young love and-uh and they did-some stupid things-that um-i only realised when i got older-”, you stutter out, a flustered mess as you continue to look up at wonwoo. he looked so pretty up close and you could smell his cologne, which only made you want to lean into his presence. you feel your cheeks heat up as you look at him, starting to get lost in his eyes, his gaze. the way he looked at you like nothing else mattered to him apart from you made your heart race. you could feel your heart thumping loudly against your chest as you opened your mouth to speak again but closed it as no words came out. you step to the side, trying to create some distance between wonwoo, but you end up tripping on the stool that was placed there, almost falling, but wonwoo is quick to catch you, his arms catching your waist as he pulls your body against his.
“watch where you step”, wonwoo says as he holds you, and you’re acutely aware of how his hands feel on your body, the way he holds you, strong but gentle. and the way he’s looking at you makes your mind seem to go blank and the faint feeling of butterflies erupts in your stomach. “t-thanks”, you quickly say before you straighten out and stand on your own. you quickly grab a book from the cart and turn around, trying to calm your over-excited heart as you pretend to walk ahead before wonwoo calls out for you. 
“isn’t the historical section that way?”, he asks and you look at the book in your hand. it was a historical book indeed. you huff out a breath and turn around, speed walking past wonwoo as you find the shelf and put the book back in place as you mutter to yourself about why wonwoo had to be so attentive, observant and stupidly attractive.
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today is your father’s first trial and you were nervous,. even though jeonghan told you that you didn’t have to come, you wanted to. you knew your father needed your support right now, regardless of how rocky your relationship has been with him. so here you were in the car, nervous, while wonwoo was well, calm. but it was nice, having a calm energy near you, it sort of grounded you. 
you turn the corner to the court and god, it was crowded. people had surrounded the road and courthouse, media and paparazzi waiting to snap photos and cover the event. you realised how serious this was and what it would mean if your father was found guilty, shit.
you observed the crowd, ducking down in your seat a little, already feeling overwhelmed. you hated crowds, especially crowds like this. you knew it wasn’t the good type of crowd and the sense of dread was already pooling in your stomach. maybe you should just turn the car around and go home. your hand is anxiously playing with the ring on your finger and as the car pulls up to the entrance to the courthouse, you can hear the screams and yells of people and see the flashes of light go off as the media take photos. 
you gulp, anxious and the car comes to a halt. wonwoo swiftly gets down and he is quick to open your side of the car. it takes you a second to get out and the minute you get out, people surround you even more. If it wasn’t for the police barricade and wonwoo beside you, you were sure you’d have been trampled.
wonwoo is swift as he guides you inside, making sure no one touches you. he envelopes his other hand around your shoulder, but doesn’t touch you, having a gentleman’s hand while he guides you and you’re relieved once you step inside the building and the yells of people die down. you enter the trial room and take a seat. you spot your father and jeonghan and give them a small smile. your father - well he looked tired. you were just hoping jeonghan could get him through this because you don’t know what you were going to do otherwise.
the prosecution was really piling up all sorts of accusations against your father, but jeonghan was well prepared and defended whatever was coming up. firstly, according to what jeonghan had mentioned, there was no evidence or even if there was it could have been tampered with. the anonymous said person who was said to have tipped off the police with the evidence could not be trusted. jeonghan insisted that this person testify in court and that this anonymous person should be brought in for questioning. 
by the time the first trial is done, it’s already been four hours. the next trial would be held in a few days where witnesses will be brought forward to testify. but from the hush talks in the room after the court was adjourned, you could tell no one was really on your father's side. your father’s company stocks had dropped, brand deals were pulling out and things were obviously not in your father’s favour at all. you were going to try everything in your power to bring your father’s company back up again and prove to everyone that he was indeed innocent. because there’s no way he would have done those things, right?
as you manage to locate jeonghan, who sits down with you for a bit, he tells you about a message from your father. 
“you know the annual business charity club ball that your father attends every year right”, jeonghan says. “yeah”, you tell.
“well, obviously since you father cannot go this year, he’s asked you to go in his place”, jeonghan finishes and you give him a look.
“me? you know i hate that event”, you tell.
“but it’s been planned and it cannot be cancelled, not even in this situation. so, you’re going and it’s final. i will text you the location and date later. but please go, atleast for your father’s sake. he’s losing a lot of people right now so if you could try to restore people’s faith and trust in you and your father, it would be helpful”, jeonghan tells. 
“fine, i guess that’s the least i can do”, you tell as you look at jeonghan. “is he okay? he’ll be okay right?”, you ask and jeonghan nods. “he should be, i’m doing everything in my power to defend him”, jeonghan answers. 
you exit the meeting room with jeonghan and he takes off, saying he has to arrange some documents for the next trial. you weren’t able to meet your father because they didn’t allow you to right now which was a stupid rule. you walk out and you’re looking around for wonwoo but don't see him. and in your search for him, you make the mistake of walking towards the entrance, where the media people were. they spot you and in a second you’re surrounded, with people shoving cameras and mics in your face, bombarding you with questions, all talking over each other as you panic. you try to move but they follow you and soon, you’re being pushed outside and the people outside start yelling when they see you. someone shoves you and you lose your balance, almost falling as someone else grabs your left hand. you yelp out in pain as they yank your hand and just then you feel a figure come up behind you - wonwoo. his hand embraces your shoulder this time, as he holds out another hand to block people. you can feel the hand holding yours let go as wonwoo pries it off you and he pushes people back and people actually do move back because wonwoo meant business. he guides you to the car and you sit, finally away from the crowd. it’s only when you see wonwoo up front at the drivers seat that you realise you were sitting in the passenger seat behind. you didn’t mind though. wonwoo is swift to take a seat and you can feel him look at you through the rearview mirror. he doesn’t say anything, but starts the car and drives. 
by the time you get back home, it’s late, already hitting 10:30pm. it’s only when you are inside does wonwoo finally speak.
“it’s dangerous for you to go out alone”, he says, standing in front of you as you put you bag onto the countertop.
“i was looking for you but i couldn’t find you, i didn’t mean to wander off alone like that”, you try to explain. “it was all too sudden, i really didn’t know what to do”, you add. 
“just wait for me next time”, he asks,
“but where were you?”, you counter.
“i was at the east wing door, waiting for you to finish talking but when i looked inside, you weren’t there.
“oh, i think i exited from the door on the other side, that’s why”, you tell.
"if you don’t see me, call me next time, please”, he says and you nod in understanding. 
wonwoo’s eyes glance down to your hand, the slightest marks of a bruise visible. “is your hand okay?”, he asks, taking a step forward to examine it further. “yeah, it’s fine, it’s-”, you stop as you look at your hand, only to see it bare. your ring, it wasn’t there. you look down on the floor, thinking it must've fallen there but it’s not. your other hand caresses your empty hand where the ring used to be, hoping that it wasn’t really missing but you don’t feel it. you don’t feel the ring. you feel the panic start to set in as you realise what’s just happened. fuck. then it hits you, the courtroom. it must've been pulled off when your hand was grabbed. you had to go back there, you had to look for it.
“we have to go back”, you tell wonwoo, as you step forward, but wonwoo is quick to stop you. 
“yn, it’s late”, he tells sternly.
“no you don’t understand, i lost my ring, it must’ve fallen there, i need to find it”, you tell frantically and wonwoo doesn’t understand why you’ve become so worked up over a ring.
“it’s just a ring yn, you can get another one”, he tells and you snap your head up at him, visibly upset. just a ring? 
“it’s not just a ring wonwoo”, you tell, tears prickling in your eyes. “you wouldn’t understand, fuck, i have to-i have to find it”, you tell again but wonwoo’s hand is firm as he holds you back again. 
“yn”, he says. “no we need to go now”, you yell, pulling your arm loose from his grip “i’ll go myself”, you counter, trying to reach for the car keys on the counter but wonwoo pulls your hand away.
“yn we’ll go later alright”, he tells. “no no no we need to go now”, you yell again, a tear escaping your eyes, rolling down your cheeks slowly. your vision gets blurry and you move back, panic setting in. fuck how could you lose your mothers precious ring. 
“no no no, this can’t be happening”, you mumble. you try to feel for your ring again, hoping that it was all just a misunderstanding, but your finger was empty. you don’t hear wonwoo calling out to you as you ears start ringing and your eyes fill with tears again. “i’m such an idiot how could i lose it”, you tell yourself, beating yourself up over the incident.
wonwoo realised you were having a panic attack, and he also realised that what he said could have been triggering. “yn”, says, coming towards you and you feel the weight of his hands on your shoulders as he looks down at you and you look up at him, a few more tears rolling down your cheeks. “we’ll find your ring okay”, he says, his voice somehow grounding you back to reality. “i promise we’ll go back to find it, but not right now.”, he adds. another tear rolls down your cheek as you sniffle, looking up at wonwoo, feeling helpless. “we’ll find it right”, you ask, your voice barely a whisper. “we will”, he assures. 
wonwoo guides you to the couch and is quick to fetch you a glass of water. surprisingly, he takes a seat next to you, pushing the glass of water to you. you see him reach for something in his jacket pocket and then he reaches his hand out, offering it to you, his handkerchief. you gladly take the handkerchief and dab your cheeks dry, wiping your tears and sniffling as you try to calm down. wonwoo watches as you raise the glass to your lips and take a sip of water. there is silence between you both, unsure of what to say. you close your eyes for a few seconds, trying to gather yourself and your thoughts. 
“i’m sorry”, you mumble out, feeling bad at lashing out at wonwoo and maybe a little embarrassed about crying in front of him. you hated people seeing you cry.
“i should be sorry, it was insensitive of me to say that”, he says, as he watches you take another sip of water. you put the glass down, looking at your finger where your ring adorned it. 
“it was my mother’s ring”, you tell quietly after a few moments of silence. “after she passed away, it was the only token i had to remember her by”, you tell softly, lifting you head up to see wonwoo’s gaze soften as he looks at you. “it’s the only thing i have left of her”, you say, feeling yourself tear up again as you shift your gaze back down to your lap. you look back up at wonwoo and there’s something different about him, a softness in his gaze, his expression and language. “i’m sorry to hear about your mother”, he tells. you offer him a small smile. “it’s okay, i’ve come to terms with it, besides i was really young when it happened”, you add.
you glance at the clock on the wall, seeing the time and releasing that it was late, that it was past wonwoo’s working hours. “oh”, you say softly as your eyes glance at wonwoo and back to the clock. “i’m sorry if i held you back”, you say, referring to the time. wonwoo quickly checks the time on the wristwatch adorning his hand before he looks back up at you.
“i can stay, if you want me to”, he adds. “are you sure?”, you ask, unsure. he nods. “just another hour then”, you ask and he gives you a yes. deep down you were glad he was staying back. you didn’t think you could handle being alone right now, especially after what happened. 
there are a few more seconds of silence before wonwoo speaks, suggesting that you should eat dinner perhaps, considering you hadn’t really had a proper lunch either, being too anxious about your father’s trial. 
“i need a burger”, you tell after a few minutes of silence. “do you want me to place a delivery order for you?”, wonwoo asks. you shake your head. “no they don’t deliver, we’ll have to go there”, you tell and wonwoo looks unsure for a second. “it’s closeby, i’ll show you the way”, you tell, already standing up. 
you both get in the car and you show wonwoo the directions as he drives. you come by the place and park and you’re about to get out when wonwoo stops you. 
“wait, let me surf the area, see if anyone is there”, wonwoo tells, opening his door and stepping out. by anyone he meant the paparazzi of course. he walks ahead a bit, his eyes searching the area for anyone suspicious and that’s when you spot a girl sitting by the bench on the side looking at wonwoo. you knew what that look meant. wonwoo comes up by your window and you lower the glass, peeking out. you glance at the girl and then wonwoo, a laugh escaping your lips at your thoughts.
“what’s wrong?”, wonwoo asks, alert.
“that girl over there is totally checking you out”, you tell and wonwoo seems unfazed by this piece of information.
“i see three paparazzi, seems like they followed us. i suggest that you stay in the car and let me get you a takeaway”, wonwoo tells. 
“that girl is totally going to ask for your number”, you add and wonwoo blinks at you.
“she won’t”, he tells, dismissing your claims. 
“she totally will”, you counter and he raises a brow at you. 
“wanna make a bet”, you ask. “if you lose you have to buy me ice cream”, you tell. 
“what do you want me to get for you”, wonwoo asks, resting his hand on the car window. 
“get me the grilled burger with fries and extra sauce”, you tell, handing wonwoo your card. wonwoo takes it as you tell him not to forget the extra sauce, adding that he should get something for himself too.
after about ten minutes, wonwoo comes into sight and just as you predicted, the girl sitting on the bench stands up and engages in a conversation with wonwoo. however, it’s short lived and wonwoo is making his way towards your car and the dejected look on the girl’s face tells you everything you need to know. wonwoo gets in the driver’s seat with the bag of food, which smelled divine, tingling your senses already.
“she asked for you number didn’t she”, you tell, teasing him a little.
“she did not”, wonwoo tells and you fake gasp.
“she totally did, i read her lips”, you state and wonwoo shakes his head and gives in, amused.
“you owe me ice cream”, you state proudly, grinning at wonwoo.
“on what occasion?”, he asks.
“because you lost the bet”, you state.
“i remember making no such deal”, he tells, like he’s teasing you, as he hands you back your card.
“whatever, just know i’ll extort this ice cream out of you one day”, you tell as you reach for the bag food.
you eat your burger in joy, proud that wonwoo in fact did not forget the extra sauce. 
“did you not get anything?”, you ask, as you chew, looking at wonwoo.
“i will eat something at home, thank you for the concern”, he says. “don’t be like that!”, you tell, offering him a fry but he politely declines that too.
after you’ve devoured your burger and fries, you sigh content. “that was a good meal”, you tell, satisfied. “if only i could get a desert now”, you tell, implying to wonwoo.
“but i guess we should go, an hour is going to be up”, you tell. wonwoo steps out of the car and you’re about to ask him what he’s doing when he walks over to your side and opens the door for you.
“did you not want your ice cream?”, he asks and you look around before wonwoo tells you that the paps left. you smile and step out, happily walking up to the ice cream parlour that was right next to the burger joint. another hidden gem that served the best ice cream and sundaes.
you walk inside and sit in the corner booth all the way at the end. it gave you some privacy and was cozy. you don’t even glance at the menu before you’re telling wonwoo what you want. “a chocolate brownie fudge delight please”, you tell, grinning up at wonwoo who’s looking at you confused as he glances at the menu on the table, his eyes searching for the item you’ve just named.
“but that has two scoops of vanilla and two scoops of chocolate ice cream”, he tells. you only look at him, confused. “and a whole brownie with chocolate sauce and nuts”, he adds, like he’s questioning you.
“so?”, you ask.
“are you going to eat the whole thing?”, he asks and you scoff. 
“do not underestimate my ice cream eating abilities wonwoo”, you tell offended and just then the waitress comes, taking your order.
your sundae comes and you’re already smiling but when you take that first bite, it’s heaven and you sigh again, content with life right now. wonwoo looks at you like he’s still unsure that you can finish it. 
“do you want a bite? it’s really good”, you ask, pushing the bowl towards him. he politely declines again and you give him a look. 
“you know, you should live life more, because you only live once”, you tell, as you put another spoonful of ice cream in your mouth. “i mean of course if you’re allergic to nuts or lactose intolerant then that’s a totally different story, but otherwise if someone tells me that they don’t eat or don’t like ice cream, i wouldn’t trust them you know. because how can you not like ice cream? it’s like one of the best things to have been created. if you don’t like ice cream then there’s a serious problem”, you ramble on to wonwoo, who’s sitting opposite you, listening to you keenly.
“also you should really talk more, i feel like i’m talking to myself half the time because you never say anything or you're always finishing your sentences in two or five words”, you tell, oblivious to the fact there was chocolate sauce on the side of your lip. “we need to come to some sort of understanding because-”, you stop mid sentence as wonwoo’s hand reaches out to wipe the corner of your mouth gently. you stare at him for a couple of seconds before the weight of his actions hits you and you start coughing, flustered. wonwoo is quick to pour you a glass of water and offer it to you.
“are you okay?, he asks, looking worried and you nod. “y-yeah”, you respond, suddenly feeling shy. you eat another spoonful of the ice cream, looking down at the bowl as you chew, feeling your cheeks heat up and you glance back up at wonwoo, whose eyes are still trained on you, and he’s looking at you deeply like he’s trying to decipher what’s going on in your mind. the way he looked at you, god, it made you feel things.
“we’ll find my ring right”, you ask again as you take the last bite of your sundae. 
“i assure you that i will try my best to find it”, he replies. silence engulfs you both again.
“thank you for today”, you tell. “it was a nice distraction or change from the situation”, you tell, feeling grateful. you check the time on your phone and let out a small gasp at the time.
“oops, i guess i kept you for two hours instead of one”, you tell. “that’s not an issue”, he says. “if you ever need me, i’m always here”, he adds and somehow the way he says it feels soft, like this was his way of initiating friendship, telling you that he was indeed human and there was a sincerity in the way he said it. 
“thank you”, you say, giving him a genuine smile. wonwoo drops you off at home and then leaves, bidding you goodnight. you lay in bed, replaying the events of today in your head, thinking about wonwoo. even if he perhaps looked a bit cold and indifferent, he was actually really sweet, quiet, soft and gentle. you feel a blush creep up your cheeks as you think about what he did earlier and you turn over, burying your face into the pillow, letting out an annoyed groan as you kick your feet in the air.
you don’t sleep well that night, your mind wandering to your mother’s ring and all your thoughts filled with finding it. you would find it right? you wake up at an ungodly hour and still restless before falling asleep in the early hours of the morning. when you wake up, you sleepily walk out and see a cup of takeaway coffee from your favourite cafe waiting for you. you glance at wonwoo and then at the cup of coffee.
“i thought you might want some coffee”, he fills in. “oh god i did need some coffee, thank you wonwoo”, you tell, taking a sip, grateful for his sweet gesture. 
“when can we go find my ring? i really have to find it, i’ll never forgive myself otherwise”, you say, putting the coffee back on the counter as you go on a sleepy rant when wonwoo steps forward and holds out his hand. he opens it and lo and behold, your ring is there. your jaw drops and you look up at wonwoo. 
“no way. you found it, you really found it”, you tell as you take the ring, examining it like you were making sure it was really yours before slipping it back on your finger. 
you’re so happy and you jump at wonwoo, hugging him, “thank you thank you thank you”, you chant, feeling so relieved right now, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. that’s when you realise what you were doing, making you step back abruptly, clearing your throat. “i mean, thank you”, you tell again, as you compose yourself. he gives you an appreciative nod and a small smile and you feel your stomach do a little somersault.
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a week later the next trial is being held. you didn’t go for this one, but you got updates from jeonghan and of course the news. the headlines about your father were also ridiculous, but you were used to it at this point really. it’s like the whole world was against your father right now, everyone hated him and you of course. people were angry and demanding justice and jail time, saying he stole taxpayers' money and that he owned the people back, that he should rot in jail for the rest of his life. you shake your head and open your front door to go water your garden when you see another small box on your doorstep. you had been getting these all week. they were threats and normally you should have been scared. but you thought it was a harmless joke. you’d gotten countless threats on the internet so you just assumed it was someone having some fun. shrugging it off, you decided to not tell wonwoo about this. 
the weird boxes continue to come, but you realise that they got progressively worse each time, the last two even had death threats, and threats about breaking into your house, but yet again, you didn’t take it seriously. you woke up later today, having trusted wonwoo with your house code so he could enter and start his duty and not have to wake you up at 7am every day. 
when you walk to the living area, wonwoo is there. “good morning”, he greets and you yawn, waving at him. “you got a parcel”, he tells and you look at the counter, recognising the box. “shit not another one”, you mumble but wonwoo is sharp to hear it.
you open it, and this time it’s a bunch of your photos, cut up weirdly. but the worst part, your heads were cut off in all of them and there was a cryptic message too. wonwoo comes forward, sees the letter and is quick to look at you. he reaches out for the letter, taking it from your hand before you can hide it and his eyes scan over the contents of the letter, his jaw clenched.
“this isn't okay”, he says. “it probably isn’t a big deal wonwoo, i’ve been getting them all week”, you blurt out, before realising it and you can feel wonwoo’s gaze get more intense.
“what? and you didn’t think to tell me?”, he asks firmly. “i didn’t want to make big deal out it, it’s probably harmless, i get stuff like this all the time online”, you tell.
“but this isn’t online”, he says, emphasizing his words.”and it's always not a big deal until something actually happens yn, this is dangerous”, he tells, clearly upset about this, raising his voice slightly.
he makes you show him all the mail and he looks stressed to say the least. “yn you should have told me about this”, he says, stressed. “how am i supposed to protect you if i don’t know about things like this”, he adds and you can feel his eyes drill into you. 
“i’m sorry wonwoo”, you say, feeling bad.
“well, it is a big deal and action will be taken”, he says.  “they know your address yn, do a lot of people know your address, where you live?”, he asks, making you think and that’s when you realise. “oh”, you say. “i mean paps are around my house all the time”, you tell.
“but this isn’t a pap”, he tells. “it means this person has been following you around”, he says. “you mean like stalking?”, you ask. “yes exactly”, he tells. you gulp, suddenly realising the weight of the situation.
wonwoo looked stressed the entire day even though you told him not to worry and that you’d karate chop anyone who came near you. he didn’t laugh at your joke, obviously, just keeping a straight face. that night, wonwoo seems apprehensive to leave, worried about the threats you were getting, but you assured him that you were going to be okay, that you were going to lock all your doors and windows and sleep. 
the letters and threats keep coming, each getting more violent and wonwoo doesn’t like it one bit. “we need to put some cctvs around your house”, he tells you. you argue that you don’t really need it, but he insists, and to be honest, in the long run, it could be useful so you cave in and he informs you that he’ll make the arrangements.
that night, you’re lying in bed, busy watching a show on your laptop. it was late, but you couldn’t sleep so here you were, catching up on a tv show. but that’s when you hear a noise from outside. you shrug it off and continue watching when your phone pings.
i can see you
what the fuck. you get up and try to look out the window, not seeing anything, but that’s when you hear a noise and you see the shadow of someone on the wall. it moves swiftly and you take a step back, scared. your phone pings again.
looking for me?
you swear you feel a shiver run down your spine. you hear a rattle on your window outside and you gasp, anxious as you tiptoe your way there and you swear you hear a laugh, making you jump.
did i scare you?
another text reads and you gulp, backing up. fuck. 
you scramble to unlock your phone and you dial wonwoo, not knowing who else to call. he doesn’t pick up on the first go and you hear the heavy boots of someone outside before you hear your glass window break, a stone getting thrown inside. you dial wonwoo again and he picks up.
“wonwoo, fuck, there’s someone here, i think they’re trying to break in”, you tell in a panic and the phone gets disconnected as you yelp in pain as a small stone from outside that hits your hand, breaking the window furthur as glass shatters everywhere. you hand stings and you clutch your hand as you try to ground yourself. you start panicking, and getting anxious, tears brimming in your eyes. your phone slips from your hand, landing with a thud on the ground. you try to reach out for it but end up getting cut from the glass you couldn’t see in the dark. you suck in a breath as you feel the sharp cut burn and you move back as you sink to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest, hiding under the dining table. what if wonwoo didn’t come you thought as a tear escaped you. you had to get yourself together. but then another stone gets thrown shattering your already broken window. shit, what if someone came in right now. this wasn’t good. your thoughts only add fuel to your panic and you just try to huddle under the table, your hands shaking.
you don’t know how much time passed and you don’t even hear your front door open as wonwoo runs in. “yn?”, he calls out. your house was still dark and you can hear the crunch of glass as he steps on it with his boots, cursing under his breath.
he calls your phone which had fallen down, as it lights up and rings. “yn?”, he calls out again, an edge to his voice, seeing your phone that was discarded on the floor.  you raise your head, accidentally hitting it on the top and you wince. you hear wonwoo’s feet shuffle around and he bends down, finally locating you. he offers you his hand and helps you up, which you gladly take. he’s quick to assess your state, guiding you to your bedroom because of all the glass that’s scattered on the floor. he locates the switch and turns on the light and you wince a bit from the sudden intrusion of light. you sit down and wonwoo sits beside you. “are you okay? are you hurt?”, he asks, looking at you carefully before he spots the cut on your hand, bleeding badly. you don’t know how he found your first aid kid, probably his super senses. wonwoo’s sitting next to you as he aids to your cut. he gently holds your hand. “it’s going to burn a bit okay”, he says before he dabs the cut and you wince when the disinfectant comes in contact with your cut, the sting burning and you close your eyes. he wipes it a few more times before letting it dry a bit and covering it with a bandaid. he can tell you’re still pretty shaken up, in a state of shock because of how quiet you are and the way your eyes are still glossed over and teary.
“it’s okay, we caught the person”, he says, trying to help you ease up. “he was running away just as i came and i caught him. he’s with the police right now, but you’ll have to go to the station to answer some questions tomorrow”, he explains. 
“he’s gone?”, you ask and he nods and you feel yourself relax a little. you were okay. it was going to be okay.
“i thought you weren’t going to come”, you mumble out. “i would come running for you”, he says, making you look at him. his gaze is soft as he looks at you. “really?”, you ask, softly as you start to get lost in his gaze. “yes”, he says as he holds your gaze.
once everything is settled, he stands in front of you. it was 1am now. “i’ll see you tomorrow then”, he said and he turned around to leave when you grab the end of his shirt sleeve. he turns around, looking down to his hand that you held onto his sleeve before he looks up at you. “can you stay?”, you ask softly, peering up at him. “i’m a little scared”, you add softly, your hand still tugging on the end of his sleeve. “but if you have to go, i understand,” you tell, reluctantly letting go of his sleeve. “i’ll see you tomorrow anyway”, you tell, feeling like you don’t want to burden wonwoo anymore.
“it’s okay, i can stay”, he says. 
you tell wonwoo to sleep in the guest bedroom, practically dragging him there because he said he’d sleep on the couch. there was no way he was going to sleep on the couch, especially after the windows got broken there. wonwoo was a bit stubborn, but he finally gives in after you threaten to lock him in if he doesn’t listen to you.
you say a small goodnight before you retreat back into your own room. you fall asleep, only to be awoken as you suddenly feel hot. your head is heavy and you don’t feel good. you needed water. you stand up, feeling a little dizzy before you steady yourself and open your door, heading to the kitchen. you turn on the light and reach out to fetch glass from the counter but your grip falters and it falls to the ground, shattering. you curse under your breath. you’re about to bend down to clean it up but you hear wonwoo call out for you.
“yn?”, he asks as he steps into view, taking in the sight of you and the broken glass. he’s prompt to walk closer. “are you okay?”, he asks. “yeah, it just slipped”, you tell softly. his gaze on your lingers before he’s swift to pick you up and place you on the counter and you don’t even have the chance to protest about it. “let me clean this up okay”, he tells and is quick to remove all the glass and neatly sweep the area. your head is throbbing and you don’t feel too good, your head feeling heavy. 
“are you okay?”, wonwoo asks again, observing you keenly and he can tell that something is off about you, that you don’t look okay. “y-yeah”, you say softly, answering him. “you can tell me if something is bothering you yn, i’m here for you”, he adds, his eyes still trained on you and you feel utterly exposed when he looks at you like that, like he can tell exactly what you were thinking and feeling. you gulp.
“i-i don’t feel too good”, you finally admit.
he raises his hand to gently press the back of his hand to your forehead and you watch how his eyebrows furrow.
"yn you’re burning up”, wonwoo says, checking your temperature again. you hop down from the counter, not listening to wonwoo as his arm comes up to wrap around your waist to steady you as you stumble slightly.
“yn, you need to get back to bed”, he instructs, a worried edge to his voice. before you know it, he’s scooping you up in his arms and carrying you bridal style back to the bedroom and you don’t have it in your to say anything as he gently lays you down, adjusting your pillow for you. he’s quick to fetch you a glass of water. he asks you if you have any fever or headache medication and you shake your head lightly indicating that you didn’t have any. he tells you he’ll be back, that he’s just going to the pharmacy around the corner and you lay in bed, under the covers. the throbbing in your head only gets worse and you start to tear up. you fall asleep for a few minutes but awaken when you hear wonwoo’s softly call out to you. you turn around, sniffling and wonwoo can tell you were crying, his expression softening as he sits down next to you. 
he helps you take the medication for your fever, telling you that it is going to be okay, that he was right here. your hand brushes against his as you lay as you slowly fall asleep. you feel when his hand move and you reach out, grabbing onto his fingers. “stay, please”, you mumble, half asleep, holding onto his hand as you finally fall asleep. 
you wake up in the morning and feel a bit better, sitting up. you’re about to get up when wonwoo enters, spotting you awake. “how are you feeling?”, he asks. “a bit better”, you tell, still feeling a little tired.
“i’m sorry for keeping you up”, you add softly, looking at him. “you can take the day off today, i’m just gonna be at home”, you add. 
“it’s not an issue”, he fills in. “i got you some rice porridge, you should eat some and take the medication again”, wonwoo informs. he offers to bring it to you but you decline, saying you wanted to get out of bed anyway. he’s a little hesitant but walks with you to the dining table where he brings the bowl of porridge to you.
you nibble on a few bites of the food, wonwoo keenly watching you and you feel like you’re being stripped bare again by the way he looks at you. “sorry if i kept you awake”, you tell, feeling a little bad. 
“don’t apologise yn, i’m more than happy to be around and help”, he says.
after you eat a bit and take your medication, you sleep for a bit more, while wonwoo arranges for your windows to get fixed. you wake up after a few hours and you walk out. wonwoo is there, talking to one of the workers before he spots you in the corner of his eye. he’s dressed in rather casual clothes compared to his daily suits. today was just trousers with a shirt and blazer jacket. he still managed to look good. you were sure he would look good in everything. but the one thing you noticed was his hair, it was down, his bangs falling over his head. and somehow it softened his look, he looked so pretty. wonwoo makes his way towards you, greeting you. 
“sorry if all the noise woke you up”, he says as he takes in your appearance.
“it’s okay, i was up anyway", you say.
“they’re almost done”, he adds and you retreat back to your room, crashing in bed as you cuddle your pillow and you’re falling asleep again.
later that week, wonwoo was extra tight on security, he installed cctv cameras outside and the guy who was stalking you was put on a restraining order and fined. jeonghan had also messaged you about all the details about the charity business ball you had to attend in your fathers place. he said going to the ball would sort of put in a good word about your father while jeonghan was working on the trials, even though everything still looked uncertain as ever and the hate for your father just got worse.
the only thing you hated more than parties were parties that were held in the middle of nowhere. your dad always hosted this party at this venue in the middle of nowhere really, far from the city, saying the change of scenery added to the value and taste of the ball. you’d never gone to this charity business ball he’d hosted even though he’d invite you. you hated parties and all the people that came with it. it was tiresome and you’d much rather be at the comfort of your own home.
the charity ball was the news of the week, everyone was covering this and you’d bet some media people were going to be there being their nosy selves as usual. you end up meeting with your usual stylist - hwasa and she’s more than happy to curate a bunch of outfits for you to try on and see which one works for the event. wonwoo accompanies you, standing in the corner of the room while you try on the twelfth dress, already exhausted by the whole process.
but out of all the dresses you tried, you’d liked this one the best. it was a white satin dress with full sleeves and you loved it.  it fits you the best too. you step out, looking for hwasa but she’s not there, probably gone to get a few more dresses. you see wonwoo, his eyes catching yours and you see the way they change, widening a little before going back to his stoic expression. 
“how do i look?”, you ask wonwoo, looking at him expectantly. he clears his throat before speaking. “you look pretty”, he says and you give him a look. “just pretty? you have to give me more wonwoo. how do we like it from the other dresses?”, you ask, prodding him.
“it’s the best fit compared to the others and compliments you well”, he adds. “right! i thought so too!”, you tell, smiling. just then hwasa appears, smiling as she sees you. “this is the one”, she says as she looks at you and you do a little twirl for her. “yup, let's go with this one”, you tell.
you decide to get an outfit for wonwoo too, you wanted him to look good so you send him with hwasa to get him an outfit, even though he said that he was alright, you insisted.
after the day is over, you head home, tired. the charity ball was on the weekend and it was already wednesday. you were not looking forward to this at all but you were only doing it for your father’s sake. and after all, the company was going to come into your hands later so you might as well show them who you are and what you were capable of, right?
you were supposed to ideally leave on friday night to the venue and stay at a hotel nearby, but you were nervous and somehow at last minute, the hotel you booked cancelled on you, so you just decided to go on the same evening, except it would be a three hour drive. you’re a frantic mess that morning. from going to hwasa’s studio to get your makeup and hair done, and you go back home, leaving from there after changing. the only hitch was they didn’t have the shoes you chose in your size even though it was ordered but it didn’t come on time, so now you were stuck with shoes that were a tad bit tight, but you had to put up with it in the name of fashion. 
you’re all ready and you hear a knock on your door. “the car is ready, i’ll be waiting outside”, you hear wonwoo tell.
"i'll be there in a minute", you yell out as you quickly check your appearance in the mirror before you head out. it was going to be okay hopefully, but you couldn’t help the feeling of dread already pooling in your stomach. you give yourself a smile in the mirror before walking out, your shoes already starting to feel uncomfortable. you have your small handbag with your stuff and grab your house key, locking up before turning around and your jaw almost drops on the floor because holy shit.
wonwoo. he looked gorgeous. he was wearing a black turtleneck paired with a black blazer. his hair was styled but over his forehead and he was wearing glasses. god. you stand there for a whole 30 seconds just staring at wonwoo because wow, he looks so hot right now. you’re not even looking when you take the next step, completely misplacing where you put your foot, tripping down the step but you feel a pair of hands grab your waist, steadying you as wonwoo is quick to catch you. your hands are draped on wonwoo as you look up at him and suddenly he’s so close and he smells so good. you can smell his cologne and it just draws you in more. you’re staring at wonwoo, surprised and your eyes flicker down to his lips for a split second before glancing back up. 
“woah are you okay”, he asks, worried as he helps you get back on your feet, his hands still lingering around your waist. 
“y-yeah”, you mumble out, clearing your throat, and you’re acutely aware of his hands on your body again, making your cheeks heat up. your hand is still clutching wonwoo’s hand before you pull your hand away, gulping as you look down.
you sit behind because your dress needs space so it won’t crease and you glance at wonwoo occasionally as he drives, his side profile is so pretty. he looked pretty hot with glasses and you were suddenly wondering why he didn’t wear them more often. you shift your legs and feel a dull pinch in your feet as you look at your heels. you’d have ideally removed them in the car but it had the most confusing way to tie them up and they’d been tied nicely already. you didn’t want to ruin that so you let it be, sighing. but little did you know that wonwoo would also occasionally look back at you through the rearview mirror. he thought you looked gorgeous tonight.
the car ride is silent except for some soft music playing and your mind starts wandering to the event, trying to prepare yourself for what was to come.
you can tell you’re close when you see all the lights and the venue up front along with the bunch of cars. you take a deep breath, trying to ease your nervousness. your nerves start to hit you more as the car stands in line to walk to the red carpet. you can hear the people, the fans and see the countless media and news reporters who’ve come to cover the event. 
soon it’s your turn to walk the red carpet and get to the ball. you’re so nervous that your hands are almost shaking and you hate it. you hate the flashes and the crowd already. the car comes to a halt and wonwoo gets down, rushing to your side and opening the door for you. now that the door was open, all the noise was amplified. you take a breath before you see wonwoo offer his hand to you and you look up at him, the look of panic evident on your face as you get up, and wonwoo can feel the way your hand shakes in his, giving you a small but somewhat comforting squeeze as you put on a fake smile as you step out. you walk ahead, posing for a few pictures before you walk ahead, wonwoo walking behind you. 
you get in and you’re greeted by a bunch of people, some you know, some you don’t. most of them were your father’s business partners, people he worked with or were friends and relatives. the rest were just invited for courtesy. 
you’re offered a glass of champagne as you enter and you take it, and walk ahead. but as you walk you can feel everyone’s eyes on you, you can feel the weight of their gazes and they all talk in hushed voices as you walk past. you see your father’s friends and go up to them, greeting him.
“hello”, you say nicely and they greet you but are rather hostile. they make small remarks about your father and his situation, joking about not wanting to be seen with you as to protect their reputation. they’re laughing as you’re just standing there, trying not to lose it as you excuse yourself and walk away. your father really had shitty friends, you had to say that. you turn around and spot wonwoo to the side of the room at the back, along with all the other bodyguards as his eyes find yours. you give him a small smile and he nods, smiling ever so softly.
you walk around and talk around to a few people, some feigning sympathy and pity for your dad while others downright insult him. you countered these claims to every person, saying he didn’t do it but they all just laughed or shook their heads. finally, it was time for the ball and event to begin and you took a seat. as you were the host have to technically open the thing so here you were, walking up to the stage, your feet killing you already and your nerves ready to snap at any second. as you take the stage and see the sea of people in front of you, you feel the anxiety pool in your stomach and you gulp. you can feel everyone’s eyes on you, boring into you and suddenly you feel like you’d committed a thousand crimes and everyone was judging you.
“good evening ladies and gentlemen”, you say, giving the audience a small smile. 
“i am here tonight on behalf of my father, but i welcome you all and would like to thank you all for coming. the proceeds raised at this ball will be going to children and people in need. thank you for coming once again and have a great night”, you tell, people clapping and you walk off.
another host takes over from here and you walk down the stage, holding your dress up as you look down and see someone you really did not want to be seeing right now - your dad’s business partner's son, who was a #1 asshole.
he’d always been a snob and you almost roll your eyes at the sight of him. you see people writing cheques and putting them in the donation box and in the other room people were dancing to the live band who were playing music.
“hello yn, long time no see”, he says, flashing you his smile, which you didn’t reciprocate. “hi”, you say.
“nice party”, he adds. “thanks”, you say.
“i would like to offer you the first dance”, he asks, giving you a mischievous smile. “oh no that’s alright”, you say but he doesn’t listen.
“come on, don’t be a spoilsport”, he says, taking your hand and taking you along with him to the other side of the room. and soon, his hand is on your waist and he’s smirking at you as you both slowly move. you can see people looking at you but you try to ignore it.
“how’s your dad? i bet things are hard right now”, he says.
“yeah, but i’m sure the truth will be revealed at the end”, you say.
he laughs, making a few snide remarks about your father, which you try to ignore. but suddenly you feel the thread you’re trying to hold onto snap and suddenly the music is too loud, you don’t like the way he’s holding your hand too tight or the way his hand on your waist is going lower and you try to pull away but he doesn’t let you. 
“oh i’m sure the truth will be revealed soon”, he says and he leans in, whispering in your ear. “that your father is a crook”, he tells, smirking and he looks at you and you pull your hand away. you walk away, watching as people’s gaze turn towards you but you ignore it, the tears pooling in your eyes as you make your way to the restroom. you enter and lock yourself in one of the stalls, letting a few tears roll down. you hear the door open and a few girls.
“did you see her?”, one of them says.
“i can’t believe she had the audacity to come really”, another girl says.
“she’s so shameless. if my father was jailed i would like never to show my face to anyone.”, a girl adds and the others laugh.
“probably got spoiled from her father’s rotten money”, another girl tells, and they all snicker as they leave.
hearing this only makes you more upset and more tears well in your eyes as you cry silently. you didn’t want to be here anymore, you wanted to be alone, you wanted to leave. you wanted to leave now. panic rises in your chest again along with anger. your eyes well with tears as you walk down the basement where the cars were parked. thank god you had your spare car key with you and you locate your car, getting in and driving off. you grip the steering wheel hard, making your knuckles turn white as you drive. you don’t even know here you’re going, you just know you had to get out of here. you don’t know how long you’ve been driving for, when you realise you don’t even know where you are. you had gotten a couple of texts from wonwoo but you ignore it and soon wonwoo was calling you but you ignored it too. you didn’t have the energy to deal with him right now. you wanted to be alone. 
your car suddenly sputters and breaks down in the middle of the road in almost the middle of nowhere. the road was empty and you couldn’t see anyone or any other cars, people or buildings, fuck. you bury your head in your hands, crying out in frustration as you think about what to do. well you guess now was a good time to call wonwoo. 
wonwoo picks up your phone almost immediately. he’d seen you dancing but after that, during the entire party he didn’t see you. now that it was almost over and he still couldn’t locate you, he was obviously worried. he’d texted you and called you countless times but you weren’t responding, leading him to think something might have happened. he’s a frantic mess as he desperately tries to look for you, calling you, but you don’t respond. 
“yn? yn are you okay”, wonwoo’s voice is urgent on the other line of the phone.
“wonwoo”, you tell softly, nearly on the verge of tears again. 
“where are you? are you okay?”, he asks and that’s all it takes for you to burst into tears again, feeling like the whole weight of the world was on your shoulders.
“yn, please tell me where you are”, he pleads, concern laced in his voice.
“i don’t know”, you tell, your voice cracking, more tears rolling down your already tear stained cheek. 
“i got overwhelmed and i left, i took the car and i drove and i-i don’t know where i am”, you tell through broken sobs. “and now the car broke down, god knows where”, you add, sniffling. 
“send me your live location, i’ll track you”, he says. “stay in the car and lock the doors, i’m coming”, he assures. “can you stay on the line with me”, you ask. “of course”, he fills in.
wonwoo discovers you’ve driven a whole 45 minutes away and he assures you that he’s coming. but only ten minutes in your phone dies. “fucking phone”, you mumble as you look at the dark road. ten minutes pass and now you start getting scared. wonwoo was going to come right? blame your stupid anxiety but you thought of the worst scenarios that could happen, only psyching yourself more. the car feels more suffocating by the minute and your shoes feel like they're getting tighter. panic sets in stronger and you can’t take it anymore, can’t take the tightness in your shoes and you hastily undo the laces and pull off your shoes, wincing slightly when you feel it scrape against the back of your ankle. you close your eyes and try to take a few deep breaths.
after what feels like an eternity, you see a car pull up near you. you can’t make out anyone, the light almost blinding, but you see someone step out, making their way to your car. you open the door and step out, hearing the voice calling your name - wonwoo. relief immediately floods through your body as you run towards him, crashing into his arms as you start sobbing in his chest, your arms wrapped tightly around his body. he’s a little taken aback but his hands engulf you, pulling you in for a warm embrace.
“i thought you weren’t going to make it”, you mumble out, your arms wrapped around wonwoo as you start to cry. “of course i’d come yn, i gave you my word”, he says, his hand coming up to cradle your head.
“my phone died and i-i didn’t know what i was going to do”, you mumble out, looking up at wonwoo. he studies your face, his gaze softening as he takes in your state and your tear-stained cheeks. you’ve cried a lot today. you finally drop your hands from around wonwoo, letting him go. wonwoo looks down and sees you’re barefoot. “where are your shoes?”, he asks. “they’re in the car, it was getting uncomfortable”, you say. wonwoo is quick to grab your phone, keys and bag from your car and to your surprise, there’s a pair of sneakers. he puts them in front of you, bending down to help you put them on. “where did you get those?”, you ask, surprised. “i like to be prepared”, he informs, helping you wear the shoes before standing back up and your hand automatically grab his hand, intertwining your fingers in his, hoping to find some grounding through his touch.
wonwoo asks the cab to take you both to the nearest hotel, which was roughly ten minutes away from where you were according to the cab driver. you’re still holding wonwoo’s hand and he lets you as you try to calm down. you see a building up ahead and the cab driver tells you that this is the location. you both enter, walking up to the reception and the lady there looks up as you both up.
“we’d like two rooms please”, wonwoo asks. 
“unfortunately we only have one room left”, the lady says.
“we’ll take it”, you chirp in and wonwoo looks at you. 
“it’s a couple suite so i can only book couples in it”, she says, chewing on gum, looking bored to even be there. “are you a couple or”, she asks.
“no” “yes”, you say and you both look at each other.
“we are, ignore him, he’s a little shy”, you tell and she just looks between you both again. 
“alright, how would you like to pay, cash or card?” the lady asks. you dig through your purse and find your card, handing it over and you have your room key. wonwoo notices the way you’re walking slowly this time, watching your face contour in the slightest of winces with each step. “are you hurt?”, he asks, walking forward as he puts his hands on your shoulder, his eyes raking your body for any sign of discomfort or hurt. “no-my shoes-ouch-were the wrong fit”, you fill in. “i think i got a shoebite from them”, you say as you look up the flight of stairs you’d have to climb mentally bracing yourself when you feel wonwoo’s hands wrap around you and lifting you up bridal style. you let out a small surprised yelp, your arms wrapping around wonwoo’s neck for support. 
“woah w-what are you doing?”, you stutter out, looking at wonwoo, whose face is barely inches from yours. “your feet are already hurt, i don’t want you climbing up the stairs in that state”, he announces, carrying you as he walks up the stairs. you feel that familiar heat creep up your cheeks and that tiny feeling of butterflies as you look at wonwoo. he looked really pretty up close, his hair falling over his forehead as his glasses sat perfectly on the bridge of his nose. you reach your room and unlock the door, wonwoo still carrying you and he sets you down. you tell him a quiet thank you as your hands are quick to slide off the sneakers, feeling instant relief. but just has you had predicted, you got shoebites. both the sides of your pinky toes and heels were bruised and raw.
wonwoo fetches something from his wallet - bandaids. you’re surprised. “so you just carry around bandaids in your wallet??”, you ask, amused. “like i said, i have to be prepared”, he says. you try to take the bandaid from his hand, telling him that you’d put it on but he doesn’t let you as he bends down on one knee so now he’s matching your height. he gently places your foot on his knee has he puts the bandaid your heel. he repeats the same for your other heel before you put your leg down and wonwoo looks at you.
“i’m sorry”, you tell softly, gazing into his alluring eyes. “are you mad at me? it’s valid if you’re mad at me because i just ran off and completely ignored your calls and-”. you stop when you feel his hand gently squeeze yours, a small act of assurance. “you’re safe now and that’s all that matters”, he says, his voice deeply soothing. you smile, leaning in to peck his cheek. “thank you wonwoo”, you tell and he gives you a soft smile as he gets up. little did you know that wonwoo’s heart was racing from your little action as he tried to maintain his composure.
wonwoo wanders off to another room but comes back outside. “there’s only one bed”, he says, like it’s a fact. “so?”, you ask, getting up.
“i guess i’ll sleep on the couch over there”, he says, pointing towards the couch that looked like anyone would wake up with back pain if they slept on it. 
“wonwoo it’s fine, we’re just gonna sleep”, you tell. “you’re acting like sleeping in the same bed is a crime”, you say. “i would prefer not to interfere-” “sleep on the bed or i’ll take the couch”, you threaten.
but now there was a bigger problem than the bed, you didn’t have any change of clothes. thankfully the hotel sold some stuff as merchandise and t-shirts and pants were in the collection too. 
you go to the bathroom and change, finally stripping out of your dress and you hang it up to air, changing into the clothes you got.  your feet still hurt a bit when you walked because they’d been cramped up in those tiny shoes for too long. you walk out, your eyes widening as you catch wonwoo changing his shirt and you immediately turn around, your cheeks flushing. “sorry”, you mumble before turning around after a few seconds. but you did not miss the peek you got at his abs, oh my gosh. 
you mentally slap yourself and sit on the corner of the bed, a yawn taking over you as you glance at the time - 2am. you were tired, it had been a long and exhausting day. you settle in bed, wonwoo sitting on the single couch opposite you, his hair slightly ruffled now from him running his hands through it, and yet it somehow still looked fluffy. wonwoo told you he’d sleep in a bit and you close your eyes, dozing off immediately, sleep overtaking your tired body. but you wake up an hour later because of a loud crack and boom and the heavy downpour of rain. you stir awake and another lighting strikes, flashing into the room before a low rumble follows. you open your eyes and see wonwoo, who’s busy reading a book under the dim lights. you sit up slightly, another loud thunder hitting making you jump as you hit your head on the headboard, startling wonwoo as well. 
“yn? are you okay?”, he asks, putting the book down and coming up to you. another loud thunder rumbles, shaking the ground and you cover your eyes, closing your eyes. you hated thunderstorms. “what’s wrong?”, wonwoo asks, sitting down beside you on the other side of the bed. “n-nothing i just don’t like loud noises and thunder”, you meekly say, still sleepy from the sudden intrusion. “it’s dumb i-”, you stop when another earth rumbling thunder hits, making you jump again. “can i hold your hand? it helps me calm down”, you ask softly, a little embarrassed, but wonwoo offers you his hand. it feels warm, soft and safe as you hold it and wonwoo makes himself a bit more comfortable as he sits next to you. 
“what were you reading? '', you ask, letting wonwoo’s hand go after two minutes and now that you are a bit more awake, you take in wonwoo’s look. even in the dark, you could make out his hair was now messily dishevelled which only added to the charm and the glasses god, he looked so hot. you weren’t even listening to what he was saying as your hand fiddles with your ring on your finger. wonwoo looks at you and tilts his head to the side ever so slightly.  
“what are you thinking about?”, he asks, his voice deep.
“n-nothing”, you fill in, feeling embarrassed about your thoughts. “how do you know i’m thinking about something”, you ask, trying to get the upper hand on wonwoo, only for it to backfire on you.
“you’re fiddling with your ring, and you only do that when you’re thinking about something or something is bothering you”, he says. well damn, he was a keen observer. 
“oh”, is all you say as you look at your ring, biting your lip before you look back up at him.
“nothing, it’s really stupid”, you tell but wonwoo looks like he wasn’t going to budge until you gave him an answer.
“i’m sure it’s not stupid”, he adds, trying to reassure you, waiting expectantly. fuck it you think.
“i was just thinking about um”, you start getting nervous, your cheeks heating up and you avoid his gaze, stuttering out the next words. “i was thinking about how-um-how good you look with glasses. it really brings out your features you know and it makes you look really hot. you should wear them more often”, you confess, whispering the last bit, the familiar heat creeping up your cheeks. he doesn’t say anything, but you swear you can see the faint smirk as his lips curve up. you look away, his gaze on you suddenly too intense for you to bear. 
“okay your turn, what are you thinking about”, you ask in a hurry, hoping it would turn the attention away from you.
“do you really want to know?”, he asks slowly and you nod your head, looking at him. “you don’t talk much do you, so i’m guessing there must be a lot on your mind”, you prompt. he’s silent for a few seconds before he speaks.
“i’m thinking about what a wonderful person you are”, he says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “i’m thinking about how you are only so caring and attentive towards others but yourself. i’m thinking about how the whole world seems to have a wrong impression of you, and that you don’t deserve any of the shitty things happening to you right now. i’m thinking about when it will all end and when you’ll be able to be happy”, he says, his words completely catching you off guard. each of his thoughts strike a chord in you and you almost tear up. out of everyone, it seemed like only wonwoo was on your side. 
“wonwoo”, you say softly, at a loss for words. you don’t even know when you leaned towards wonwoo but your eyes flicker down to his lips for a split second before you look back up. “i’m thinking about how gorgeous you looked tonight and that if i had the chance i would have asked you for a dance earlier tonight if not given the current circumstances”, he adds, his gaze never leaving yours as he stares into you deeply, fondly as he opens up to you.
“and as of this moment, i’m thinking about how it would be to kiss you”, he fills in and you blink up at him, getting nervous at his confession. you answer him by leaning in and softly pecking his lips, lingering for a few seconds before you pull away but still close enough that has your heart beating rapidly. 
wonwoo leans in, kissing you, properly this time. his hand gently cups your cheek as he moves his lips against yours and you swear you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach at that moment. you kiss him back and you move your head, accidentally knocking his glasses, making you both pull away. “oops sorry”, you say, a little breathless as your hands reach out to take off his glasses and he is quick to put them on the side table before turning his attention back to you. you look up at him. “what are you thinking about now?”, you ask, your lips centimetres away from his, and you can feel your heart racing again, the echoes of the beats loud in your chest.
“i’m thinking about how i want to kiss you again”, he says, closing the gap between you both as he captures your lips in his this time you sigh into the kiss as wonwoo cups your cheek, deepening the kiss as his arm encircles your waist, pulling you closer to him. wonwoo quite literally knocks the breath out of you as he pulls away slowly, watching your chest rise and fall. you kiss him again, getting giddy at the feeling of his lips on yours as he kisses you breathlessly again, softly pushing you down on the bed as your head rests on the pillow, wonwoo’s body hovers over yours, careful not to put his weight on you as he kisses you sweetly, the drumming of the rain outside as your soundtrack.
you wake up, wonwoo’s arms around your waist as you blink your eyes open. the sun was filtering through the white curtains, rays of sunshine adorning the floor and wall. wonwoo is still fast asleep beside you and you take this chance to look at him, really look at him. his hair is messy but cutely dishevelled, his eyes closed as soft breaths leave him as he sleeps, peaceful. he’s so pretty you think to yourself as you smile softly to yourself. you remember the events of last night, the kiss, and suddenly feel yourself getting very very shy as you bite your lips to contain the silly smile that aims to erupt across your face. you continue to admire wonwoo, his big warm hands still engulfing you as you shift slightly to check the time. when you turn back, wonwoo softly stirs awake, his pretty eyes fluttering open as he awakens. 
“hi”, you say softly.
“hi”, he says, his morning voice deeply attractive.
you both look at each other, not saying anything but just taking in each other’s presence. “did you sleep okay?”, he asks, searching your face and you shake your head, mumbling something about how you’re still tired.
his hand comes up to hold yours as he gently lifts it to his lips, giving it a soft kiss, his eyes never leaving yours, making you laugh softly. god, he was so dreamy. 
“what do you want to do today?”, he asks.
“sleep, i just wanna sleep”, you groan, burying your face into the pillow. wonwoo’s hand wraps around your waist as he pulls you closer towards him. “then sleep”, he says, placing a soft kiss to your cheek, making you smile. you close your eyes and soon drift off to sleep, wonwoo’s embrace making you feel safe and comfortable. and soon, wonwoo was also sleeping with you, both of you sleeping soundly in each other’s embrace.
it’s only around lunchtime that you both stir awake again and mostly because someone was knocking on your door, leading you to both wake up to the sudden noise. 
“we have to checkout by 5pm or pay to stay another night”, he tells you. “we should leave, but the car!”, you tell, sitting up in bed.
“i’ll get it fixed, i’ve arranged for it, " he says. “i’ll go get our clothes from the hotel’s drycleaning," he says. you’d have to wear the same dress again but you didn’t mind. 
wonwoo is quick to have a shower and he's changed into his suit from yesterday, that’s all clean and freshly pressed for the day minus the blazer as he tells you he’ll bring the car. you ask him if you can come along but he says it’s best to stay back. you feel a bit bummed about it but stay back nonetheless. all your luggage was in the car, in a rush you and wonwoo had forgotten it, but could change when he was back. wonwoo is finally back and you manage to get your luggage, and you change into something comfortable, ready to leave for home.
you check out and head towards the car as wonwoo loads in your luggage before spotting you, opening the car door for you. you sit upfront this time and the journey home begins. you end up talking a bit but get hungry since you really haven’t eaten anything yet. wonwoo is quick to stop by a nearby restaurant once you guys enter the city and you gladly inhale some food.
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it’s been two weeks since you and wonwoo kissed and every time you thought about it, it made you all shy. wonwoo was his usual self, back in business mode but his touches now lingered and he’d talk to you sweetly, opening up to you more, and maybe somehow a little more protective of you.
you were now in jeonghan’s office, upset and mostly scared of the way your father’s trial was going. it seemed like things were going in favour of the prosecution and not your father.
“what’s going wrong”, you ask jeonghan, who only sighs at your question. “i’m really trying my best here yn”, jeonghan says, looking at you. “i really don’t know where the prosecution is getting all this new evidence from”, he says. “i’m doing my best yn but at this rate maybe it’s better for your father to serve the jail time”, he says, making you immediately protest at the thought. 
“what? why should he go to jail for something he didn’t even do?”, you almost yell out.
“given the circumstances, serving ten years looks the best for him. i can even try to reduce it to seven along with community service and probation”, he adds and you click your tongue, upset at the whole idea and proposition. 
he takes a few moments to think before speaking to you again. "his company has come to a standstill, someone needs to step up in the meantime and run things around there”, he starts off, being careful with his words.
“but you know what would help? if i was maybe given the power of attorney. it would help big time in trying to smooth over the company and business until things with your father are settled”, he says, giving you an assuring smile. 
“you should ask my father about that”, you say. “oh i know but maybe you could also ask him, it would be helpful”, he asks.
“i’ll see”, you say. “just make sure my father gets out of this soon”, you ask jeonghan. he gives you a smile, which for some reason runs a shiver down your spine but you shake it off, getting up. 
wonwoo drops you home that night after your meeting with jeonghan and walks you back inside. he can tell you’re stressed and anxious about your father’s situation as both of you linger at the doorstep. he reaches out for your hand, as he looks at you, his thumb caressing your hand in an attempt to comfort and soothe you. after a few seconds he takes a few steps forward, bringing his arms around you as he engulfs you in a much needed hug. you sigh in his arms as you close your eyes, letting yourself sink his hold.
“i’m going to be here with you every step of the way”, he reassures. 
“thank you wonwoo”, you respond as you pull away and look at him.
“it’s going to be okay”, he says as he looks at you. 
“i hope so”, you say, almost defeated after what jeonghan told you about earlier. 
he looks at you with the most loving eyes before he leans in and kisses you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as he softly moves his lips against yours as he kisses you sweetly.
“goodnight”, he says softly, sweetly. “goodnight”, you whisper back, stealing another kiss from wonwoo before you retreat back inside.
the next week when wonwoo comes to your house in the morning there’s something different about him, in his demeanour and the way he acts. he strictly keeps to himself, not indulging in small talk with you at all, and brushing your hand off when you try to hold his hand. you felt hurt but decided to brush it off. maybe he had a reason for it, but the thought that he’d be so blunt about it hurt. you wanted to ask him but you didn’t. you decide to go see your father today at the detention centre he was being kept at. you had gotten used to wonwoo’s silence but today it felt odd, suffocating almost, but you don’t say anything, suddenly feeling like a burden to wonwoo. 
you’re waiting for your father as you sit on the other end of the room, a plastic divider dividing you and him. you stand up as soon as he walks in and he gives you a small smile. he looks tired. 
“are you okay?”, you ask, sitting down. “i can manage," he says. 
“so things aren’t going in your favour”, you say, looking at your father. “i am aware”, he says.
“what about the company? and your business? what’s going to happen to that?”, you ask.
“yn, you know i always intended for you to take over the company at some point”, he says. “but maybe you’ll have to take over earlier than i thought”, he says. 
“what do you mean?”, you prompt.
“i mean that you will have to take over”, he says. “it is going to be hard, there are going to be obstacles and people are going to try and bring you down but i have faith and trust in you”, he says. 
“what if i’m not ready”, you say.
“i’ll always be here and you know what they say, fake it till you make it”, your father tells, making you chuckle as you hold back your tears.
“jeonghan was asking about you giving him the power of attorney”, you say as you see your father's gaze change. 
“no, if i were to give anyone the power of attorney right now, it should be you”, he says.
“but don’t you trust jeonghan? i’m sure he’ll be able to help run things until i’m ready to take over”, you say.
“i wouldn’t trust anyone right now”, your father says. “i would rather have my own child act on my behalf than jeonghan”, he says. “a power of attorney is a powerful thing and i would trust you with it more than jeonghan”, he says and you nod as you take in his words.
that evening wonwoo leaves again, and he was still cold towards you. you decided to bring it up to him tomorrow because it was starting to make you feel weird, uneasy and bad. the next day, your doorbell rings a few times. you wonder why wonwoo hasn’t bothered just entering your house like he always has. was this a new thing now? you really had to talk this out with him. 
“wonwoo what are-”, you start but stop because the person in front of you wasn’t wonwoo. “who are you?”, you ask. “i’m your new bodyguard from today”, he says. you look him up and down because he didn’t look very bodyguard material. 
“what happened to wonwoo?”, you ask, taken aback by this. he just shrugs. “i don't know, jeonghan sent me so you should talk to him”, he says before stepping in, uninvited if you had to say. 
you go to your room to fetch your phone and come back to see the guy just sitting on your couch, scrolling through his phone, wow. talk about being professional. 
you glare at him as you dial jeonghan. he picks up after a few rings. 
“what happened to wonwoo?”, you ask, not wasting a second.
“no hi?”, he says, sensing the urgency in your voice.
“where’s wonwoo”, you ask again.
“wonwoo quit”, jeonghan says like it was no big deal.
“what do you mean he quit?”, you ask in shock. “he quit yn, he told me a few days back. he said he didn’t want to work for you anymore”, he adds, making your heart drop.
“but why, there must have been a reason right?”, you ask jeonghan.
“i think it’s for the best yn, and besides, i told you not to get too close to him”, jeonghan says and you didn’t like the tone of his voice.
after that you call wonwoo but he doesn’t pick up but you keep calling. he couldn’t just quit on you like that. there must have been a reason. and you think back to yesterday and how he was acting so cold towards you for the last few days. you tear up at the thought. why? why would he do that? did he really just use you?
you watch as your new bodyguard sits on your couch lazily, not even bothered about trying to do his job right. you were pretty sure that if you went out the door right now, this guy wouldn’t even notice. you roll your eyes at the thought and sigh.
“i’m going to see jeonghan”, you tell. “sure, i guess i should drive you right, just let me finish this level, i’ve almost cracked it”, he says. he was not being serious right now.
after five minutes you get his attention. “excuse me?? can we go or shall i go myself?”, you ask. “i’m coming jeez, you’re so stuck up”, he says. 
as soon as you burst into jeonghan’s office, he looks at you with a glint in his eyes. 
“what do i owe this pleasure to”, he says.
“you could have at least hired a competent replacement, this new guy sucks actually, he doesn’t even have basic manners”, you tell jeonghan. 
“he was the best replacement i could find”, jeonghan tells nonchalantly and you scoff.
“best replacement? you’ve got to be kidding me right now. wonwoo was the best and he was actually qualified. this guy looks like someone you just picked off the street”, you argue.
jeonghan doesn’t say anything as he filters through the stack of papers on his desk, finding what he was looking for before he looks back up at you. “did you ask your father about the power of attorney thing?”, he asks, changing the topic.
“i did and he wasn’t too keen on it. he said he’d rather give me the power of attorney power than you”, you say but jeonghan doesn’t seem fazed at all. 
“i expected that, so why don’t we start processing the papers to give you power of attorney. and then you can transfer it to me right? i can hold fort until you’re ready”, he says, more like he’d had it all planned out rather than asking you.
“i’ll process the papers to make you power of attorney for now”, he says. “okay”, you say. “now if you’ll excuse me, i have a lot of work of work to do”, he tells. 
“what did wonwoo tell you when he quit”, you quickly ask. 
“yn we are not going there”
“just tell me, please”
“he said he didn’t want to work for you anymore”, jeonghan says.
“that’s all he said?”, you ask.
“yes”, and suddenly all your hopes sink.
you get back home and in the following days you just stay at home. you were somehow on the news these days, and for the dumbest reason really, it was like people were trying to nitpick you apart and post things about you. you called wonwoo again and texted him a bunch of times but there was not one single response. you couldn’t believe that wonwoo would do something like that, after all you guys shared. it broke your heart really.
and to say your new bodyguard was incompetent was an understatement. the other day he couldn’t even protect you from being mobbed or spot the paparazzi that you caught in a blink of an eye. you wanted wonwoo, you missed him.
you go to jeonghan’s office and go to the detention centre again to get the power of attorney transferred to you because your dad also had to be present. 
your dad carefully reads the document, making sure everything was right, even the fine print that people tend to ignore before deeming it legal and everything was good. he signs it and puts his stamp on it and so do you.
“use this power wisely yn, i’m trusting you”, he says and you nod.
when you reach home, you’re just waiting for the new guy to go. 
“give me your phone”, the new guy says, coming up to you and he doesn’t even wait for you to answer before he’s plucking your phone out of your hand. 
“what the hell?”, you ask, trying to take your phone back but he doesn’t let you.
“no more phone for you for the time being, jeonghan’s orders, with all these headlines about you going around he says it’s for the best”, he says.
“no give me my phone back”, you demand but he grabs your hand, pushing you towards your room, slamming the door shut and you hear the lock engage. you try to open the door but it doesn’t.
“hey open this door right now”, you tell, beating your hand on the door. “that’s not going to change anything”, he says, chucking as you hear his footsteps around the hallway.
“she’s locked up”, he says, talking to someone on the phone.
“let me out”, you yell again, banging your fist on the door again. 
“shut it”, he says, kicking the door, only prompting you to bang your fist on the door harder. 
but after no avail you stop, sinking to the ground, tears already welling in your eyes. your life just really kept getting shitty and shittier didn’t it. 
you open your eyes as you hear the key rattle on the other side, the doorknob rattling and the door opening. you’re quick to stand up.
“what the fuck is wrong with you”, you yell but the new guy doesn’t seem fazed at all. “he wants to see you”, he tells, grabbing your hand but you pull it out of his grip. “move”, he demands and you reluctantly move towards the hall and your eyes go wide at who you see - jeonghan. 
“did you do this?”, you ask, in shock.
“i have to get things done don’t i yn”, he says, giving you that creepy smile again. “and now you’re going to be a good girl and sign these papers”. he says, holding out in front of you.
“what is that”, you ask. “the transfer of power of attorney from you to me”, he says. 
“there’s no way in hell i’m doing that after what you just fucking did”, you spit out, getting upset.
“getting feisty now are we? let’s not forget that your father’s fate lies in my hands and if you do not sign this paper right now, i will send your father to rot in jail for the rest of his life”, he says, threatening you. 
“what-you can’t-you wouldn’t”, you say.
“oh believe me yn, i would. so choose. your father goes to jail or you sign these papers and save his life”, he demands. 
“why are you doing this”, you ask bitterly.
“because your father is an idiot and this is the one time i’ve outsmarted him”, jeonghan tells, smug. 
“what are you talking about? if you want money give me a number, i’ll give it to you, just stop all this”, you plead.
“oh i’ll get my money yn, but i need to see your father crumble down, that’s what he deserves”, jeonghan says.
 he thrusts the papers towards your face. “sign it”, he demands. 
“over your dead body, i’m not signing shit jeonghan”, you spit back. 
“i don’t think right now is the time to be rebellious yn”, he says, pursing his lips in a thin line.
“oh i’ve always been rebellious jeonghan and i’m not going to let you get away with this”, you tell. 
“i doubt that”, he tells, signalling for the bodyguard as he grabs your arm and drags you to your room, pushing you inside and locking the door again. 
“think again yn, you’re only getting out of here when these documents are signed and by then it’ll be too late to do anything”, jeonghan says from the other side of the door.
“fuck you jeonghan, you just wait, i’m gonna get you”, you spit out.
you hear him say something only catching the last words being ‘don’t let her out’ .
what the fuck was happening to your life. fuck. you bang your fist on the door, letting out your frustration, sinking to your knees as you try to hold it in, keep it together but you can't. you bang the door a couple more times as tears roll down your cheeks. and yet, the only person you could think of in this situation was wonwoo. only he could help you now, he would know what to do. but you had no means to contact him after your phone was taken away and you were now locked in the room.
you bury your head in your knees, trying to breathe and think. think yn and that’s when you get an idea - your laptop. it was synced to your phone contacts. you get up, rushing to grab your laptop, frantically opening it and you open the messages app and find wonwoo. all your previous texts to him are still unread. no you needed to find him, texting him wasn’t going to work right now. but the question was how? and that’s when you remember the thing jeonghan had sent you before , wonwoo’s resume, which had his address, bingo. 
you open your chat logs with jeonghan, scrolling up till the part when jeonghan had sent you wonwoo’s resume and just as you guessed, his address was on it. you grab a pen and jot down the address on a scrap piece of paper. but how were you going to get there? you looked up and at the window behind your desk. you get up, pushing your table to the side slowly trying not to make any loud noises, huffing and puffing. 
after you manage to push the table aside enough, you slide the window open and poke your head out, looking at the distance but the jump wasn’t too bad. you slowly swing your legs over, taking a breath before reaching down with your feet and them jumping. the only protection you had against the bare ground was your socks right now. you close the window behind you and look left and right. you slowly and quietly walk towards the back gate and open it slowly, making a quick escape and you jog down the road. you look at the address that’s now crumpled in your hand and it wasn’t too far. you didn’t have cash or anything on your to take the bus so walking you were.
fifteen minutes in and you're getting tired and you put on the hood of your hoodie, hoping no one would recognise you but continue speed walking to the address in your hand. wonwoo would know what to do. wonwoo could help you. wonwoo. you start picking up your speed as you walk without even realising and soon you're running, your legs are working on their own, desperate for an escape and to find wonwoo. after sprinting and jogging for a bit you finally come up to the address, his apartment and you bend down, resting your hands on your knees as you try to catch your breath.
you’re about to walk in when security stops you. “i’m here to see wonwoo, he lives here right”, you ask between breaths. 
“mr. jeon? are you his guest?”, the security asks.
“yes, yes, please which building does he live in”, you ask, pulling your hood down in an aim to not let the man recognise you.
“wouldn’t you know that if you know him?”
“please, it’s urgent”, you ask. “he knows me i swear”, you tell. “it's an emergency just, please tell me”, you plead.
the man finally tells you the information and you sprint to the building and run up the stairs, not bothering to wait for the elevator to come. you open the staircase door, entering the main floor, your chest heaving from the effort of running up the stairs. you were lucky you didn’t fall on your face at the pace you were going at. you locate his door number and you stand in front of it and suddenly you’re scared. what if he didn’t open the door? what if he wasn’t here? you can hear your heart pounding in your chest as you raise your hand to ring his doorbell. a few moments pass and nothing and you ring it again and again. shit was he not home?
you take a step back, your head down, suddenly feeling defeated when you hear the doorknob rattle and the door opens. you look up and wonwoo is in front of you. he was really here. you found him.
“yn?”, he asks, as he adjusts the glasses on his face as if he couldn't believe it was you at his doorstep. you get hit with a wave of emotions at that minute and wonwoo is asking you something but you’re not listening as your vision gets blurry and all you can do in that moment in crash into wonwoo’s arms as you start to sob in his chest, the impact making wonwoo stumble before he held onto you. you weren’t crying because you were upset, you were crying because you felt relief - relief that you finally found wonwoo.
you pull away from him and look up and he finally sees the state you’re in, bare feet and he’s quick to spot the bruises on your knuckles and hands from banging on the door as you wipe your tears. wonwoo looks you up and down as he takes both your hands in, his expression suddenly dark as he looks at you. 
“who did this to you”, he asks sternly as another tear escapes you.
“j-jeonghan”, you stutter out through a sob. “they’re working together and t-they locked me in the room”, you tell and you can see the rage burning behind wonwoo’s eyes.
“jeonghan did this?”, he asks, anger seething in his eyes and you nod.
“he’s-he’s been behind all this the whole time, the whole reason my father is in jail a-and he was threatening me”, you tell in a rush, not making a coherent sentence.
wonwoo pulls you in a hug, holding you tight. “where were you, why did you leave?”, you demand through a broken sob as the door behind you closes. “i missed you”, you tell softly, your voice cracking as a few more sobs escape you.
“fuck, i missed you too”, he says as he hugs you tighter. you feel something soft rub around your legs and look down, seeing wonwoo’s cat near your feet. “your cat”, you say as you sniffle.
you’re on the couch now, wonwoo giving you new socks and slippers to wear as freshen up, washing your face and feet. wonwoo’s cat is inquisitive of you, sitting on the floor in front of you as she looks at you. “hi oreo”, you say and she meows, making you smile. 
wonwoo busies himself in the kitchen as he makes you some chamomile tea to help you calm down and sets the steaming mug in front of you. wonwoo also sets down an envelope next to the mug, signalling for you to open it. you look at him before your hand reaches out for the envelope and you open it, the contents inside making you gasp.
“what’s this?”, you ask, as you sift through the pile of photos, each one making you upset and even more confused. they were pictures of you and wonwoo at the hotel that night after the event, but the person who took them captured you wonwoo sharing a kiss and you sleeping in his wonwoo’s arms. you feel a surge of rage in your body as you look at this.
“this is what jeonghan gave me and he tried to blackmail me with this”, wonwoo says, breaking the silence. “he threatened me with these, saying if i didn’t quit that he would give these photos to the press. i don’t know what he was planning but i did what he said because i didn’t want you getting hurt”, he says. “the bastard probably had someone tail us and take this”, he adds.
“i know it was sudden but there was nothing i could do, he was strict on not making any sort of contact with you afterwards. he said he was watching me and that otherwise these pictures would get leaked in a second if i contacted you and i didn’t want that. i don’t know what sort of twisted sick game he’s playing but i didn’t want you waking up one day and seeing these pictures in the headlines. you’re already going through hell right now and this was the least i could do to protect your reputation, to protect you”, he says, his hand finding yours as he gives it a small squeeze.
‘i’m going to kill jeonghan i swear to god”, you mutter under your breath. 
“we have to help my father, we have to do something, you’ll help me right?”, you ask, pleading almost.
“of course yn. i was dying everyday i couldn't see you or tell you what really happened, i was just praying you wouldn’t hate me for it”, he tells.
after things between you both get cleared up, you promptly end up falling asleep, curled up in his arms on the couch. when you were with wonwoo you felt safe, secure, like the world was going to be okay, that you were going to be okay. wonwoo gently carries you to his bed, tucking you in as he slips inside the sheets beside you, watching you sleep and he vowed to himself - that no matter what, he was going to protect you.
you stir awake in the morning in wonwoo’s soft sheets, turning around and seeing the other side of the bed empty. you walk outside, seeing wonwoo busy in the kitchen as he sets a pot on the table. he spots you.
“good morning”, he says and you give him a small smile. “morning”, you tell as you move closer to wonwoo, seeing the small breakfast spread laid out on the table. you hear a meow, followed by another and another. 
“someone is hungry”, you joke as you look at oreo waiting for wonwoo to give her food. 
“she’s usually patient, aren’t you oreo”, wonwoo says and oreo meows in agreement and protest. you chuckle, this side of wonwoo was adorable.
you both sit down to eat and you’re grateful for the meal, later insisting that you help wonwoo clean up and wash the dishes, even though he insists you don’t need to but your stubbornness wins and he leans on the side of the counter as he watches you wash the dishes, looking defeated.
just then there’s a knock on the door. wonwoo stands alert and checks who it is. 
“it’s jeonghan” wonwoo says softly.
“shit, what do we do?”
“go to my room, close the door and stay there till i tell you to come out”, wonwoo instructs and you’re quick to go to his room, closing the door.
wonwoo opens his front door and jeonghan stands there looking irritated.
“what is it?”, wonwoo asks, giving jeonghan a cold stare.
“where’s yn?”, he asks, running a hand through his hair, frustrated.
“how should i know”, wonwoo says.
“listen wonwoo, lying right now is not going to help”
“i don’t know where yn is”, wonwoo repeated.
“if she contacts you, you tell me right away, got it”, jeonghan says as he points a finger at wonwoo.
“did something happen?”, wonwoo asks, trying to assess the situation.
“oh nothing, yn just seems to have gone off without informing anyone, i was just worried”, he tells, giving wonwoo a fake smile before leaving.
you hear the door close, wonwoo telling you that jeonghan was gone. 
“he’s looking for you alright. i think it’s better you don’t go out for the time being. you can stay with me till then and we can come up with a plan together okay”, he says, one hand caressing your cheek. you nod. 
later that day, wonwoo says he’ll hire a new lawyer for your father and appeal to the court and also indict jeonghan. but the only problem was that how were you going to prove everything that jeonghan was doing? if you only had that evidence it would also help in proving your father innocent. 
“i could hire someone to raid his house maybe”, wonwoo says.
“what, you can do that?”you asked him, shocked but liking the idea.
“i mean he’s not playing fair either is he? let’s mess with him a little”, wonwoo says.
“but how will you find someone to do that?”, you ask curiously.
“i have connections sweetheart”, he tells. “i’m an impressive man you know”, he adds and you smile. “i'm sure you are”.
over the next few days, things move quickly. wonwoo makes the required arrangements and the meeting with the new lawyer is online because jeonghan likely putting someone to stakeout and watch wonwoo’s place in case you showed up. wonwoo is smart to keep the curtains drawn at all times so no one could peek inside either. the first priority was indicting jeonghan which would make him suspend him from working, and your father’s case would have more time and more time right now was good. 
the next week jeonghan is indicted, and a legal notice is sent to his office courtesy of the impressive new lawyer that wonwoo hired. with the indictment jeonghan could not go anywhere, he couldn’t flee or travel and he’d be called for a formal court hearing on wednesday. as you got ready on wednesday morning to go to the court hearing because you were the one indicting jeonghan so you had to be there. you were nervous, standing in front of the mirror in wonwoo’s room. wonwoo was accompanying you too of course, he wasn’t going to let you go out there alone when you were going to go fight. you were going to show the world who you really were.
you reach the courthouse where the hearing will take place and it seems like everything is already on the news, the hoard of journalists and news reporters already crowding the place. you walk inside with wonwoo and head to the courtroom. as soon as you enter you see jeonghan, who clenches his jaw as he makes his way towards you, clearly upset and shocked.
“yn what the hell is all this”, jeonghan nearly shouts, his hand reaching out to grab yours but wonwoo grabs his hand instead, stopping him. 
“watch it jeonghan”, wonwoo warns as jeonghan pulls his arm out from wonwoo’s grip.
“you’re not going to get away with all this”, you tell.
the hearing starts and you’re sitting with wonwoo’s lawyer and beside you on the other side is jeonghan and his lawyer.
“miss yn has made an indictment to mr. yoon over criminal activity and fraud”, the judge says, looking at you.
“yes your honour”, your lawyer fills in.
“what is the accused stand on this matter?”, the judge asks.
“my client mr.yoon is not guilty your honour”, jeonghan’s lawyer says and you scoff, glaring at him.
“does the plaintiff have evidence to support these claims?”, the judge asks.
“not yet but we are working on it”, your lawyer explains.
“i request the charges against my client to be dropped because they are completely baseless and defamatory”, jeonghan’s lawyer demands.
“given the nature of the accusations and that mr.yoon is also a well known person in his respective industry, i will give the plaintiff one week to gather sufficient evidence otherwise the charges and case will be dropped due to lack of evidence”, the judge grants before dismissing the court.
you’re laying wonwoo’s bed lost in thought. now the only problem was trying to find evidence. sure, you could still testify but without any evidence, your claims would be useless. there had to be a way and you were sure you were missing a vital piece of information. if only there had been cameras you think and it hits you. you get up in a gasp. that was it, the cctv cameras at your home. you get up, rushing to find wonwoo, who’s in the other room doing something on his computer. 
“i figured it out wonwoo”, you tell and he looks up at you. “the cctv cameras you installed at my home, they would have captured jeonghan on it and what he did”, you say and you watch wonwoo’s eyes light up as he follows what you’re saying. 
“he was at your house that night?”, he asks.
“yes! and the cameras would have picked it up”, you say.
“and it must have picked up on the audio too”, he states.
"audio?", you ask.
"yes, i installed one's that recorded audio too", he fills in. “yn this is amazing”, he adds “and the best part, i have access to the cctv cameras”, wonwoo adds.
“i just hope jeonghan didn’t get to them”, you tell, worried.
“no, he doesn’t know about them, i didn’t tell him”, wonwoo says.
“you are a genius”, you tell, leaning down to pepper his cheek with a kiss.
“i could say the same thing about you”, he tells, his hands finding your waist. 
you smile, looking down at him, frowning when you notice the fingerprints on his glasses. your hands move up, carefully sliding them off as you clean them with the corner of your shirt, asking how he could even see as you gently put the glasses back on his face. 
“we might have found some information from jeonghan’s computer and files”, wonwoo adds. “i’ll pass it on to my lawyer, he’ll handle it”. 
“do you think we can pull this off?”, you ask wonwoo, your hands resting on his shoulders as you look down at him, wonwoo still seated on his chair.
“i think we can”, he tells, assuring you.
that night, wonwoo filters through the cctv footage to that night and just like you’d predicted, the whole incident where he came to your home and basically confessed what he was doing was recorded, the audio was impeccable too. jeonghan could kiss his life goodbye now. wonwoo hands off this evidence to his lawyer and now you can just wait.
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it’s finally the day. you were ready but also nervous and anxious. a thousand what if’s went through your mind as you got ready that morning. you had been informed that your father would also be present at the court hearing since the case indirectly involved him. wonwoo drops you off at the court that morning.
“where are you going?”, you ask, grabbing onto his hand.
“the lawyer just called me, i need to quickly pick up something for him, but i’ll be back okay”, he assures. you nod and wait outside. there was still time for the hearing to take place in 30 minutes approximately. 
wonwoo isn’t back even after your lawyer arrives. you’re constantly checking your watch and seeing the time, looking out to see if you can spot wonwoo but you can’t see him. 
“i can’t see wonwoo? didn’t he come with you?”, the lawyer asks and you furrow your brows in confusion.
“what do you mean? he told me you called him asking him to get something”, you tell and he looks back at you equally confused. “i did no such thing”, he says. 
you fish out your phone and try to call him but it goes unanswered. you try again but no answer. 
“yn it’s time, let’s go”, your lawyer says and you put your phone back inside, hoping wonwoo was okay.
-at court-
“your honour, if you look here, you will see the cctv footage of mr.yoon and his men who were at my client's house on the night of the 8th. you can see the person, who was supposed to be yn’s bodyguard, lock up my client in the room and call mr.yoon, who arrives shortly. you can see clearly how mr.yoon threatened my clinet yn and even confessed to what he’s been doing, saying that he intentionally manipulated and betrayed yn’s father and set him up because he has an ulterior motive”, your lawyer states. 
the video of that night plays and there’s no way that anyone would not believe you anymore. it was clear as crystal what jeonghan was up to now and his true motives were revealed.
“does the defendant have anything to say?” the judge asks. 
“yes, i’d like to cross examine the client”, jeonghan lawyer says, stepping up and coming up to the witness stand where you were sitting. after your cross examination is done the judge announces that the final verdict will be delivered next week, on friday. given the high profile individuals that were involved in the case, a prompt but careful decision would be made. friday is a week away from now. the court is adjourned and you get up and leave, jeonghan purposely bumping into you as you go out, giving you a smirk.
you pick up your phone and call wonwoo again and the call is finally answered. “wonwoo where are you?”, you ask.
“hello is this someone that mr.jeon is acquainted with?”, the other person on the line asks, a female.
“yes, can i know who this is?”
“i’m calling from goodwill hospital, mr. jeon has been in an accident”, she says and your heart drops.
your feet start moving on their own as you run outside, pushing through the crowd of reporters and almost tripping as you try to hail a taxi, on your way to the hospital. you rush into the hospital asking for wonwoo at the front desk. you’re guided to his room, where the doctor explains that he was extremely lucky and only suffered from minor injuries. he would need a few days of rest and he could then be discharged. you’re instantly relieved to hear that but you’re still anxious. 
you peek into his room, slowly sliding the door open as you walk in, taking in his state and you instantly teared up. you sit beside him, reaching out to hold his hand as you keep your head down, looking at your hand on top of his. a couple of minutes pass by and you feel a soft squeeze of your hand and you look up seeing wonwoo awake.
“wonwoo”, you are relieved he was awake. “are you okay-shit no that’s a stupid question, you’re obviously not okay”, you tell in a rush.
he sits up slowly, wincing in pain but otherwise keeping a straight face.
“what happened?”, you ask softly. 
“i got jumped by jeonghan’s men. i only figured when i was already back at the apartment that the call was indeed not the lawyer”, wonwoo explains.
“shit”, you say.
“i shouldn’t have let you go, i should have insisted you stay”, you tell, feeling like this was all your fault now. 
“hey, hey look at me”, wonwoo says. 
“i just don’t want you to end up getting hurt because of me”, you tell. 
“i’m okay yn, i’m a tough guy you know”, he says, trying to lighten the mood.
after he’s rested enough and the doctors deem him okay, he’s discharged and you take him home. you tell wonwoo all about the court hearing today and now the only thing you could do was wait.
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-final hearing-
the media has been on fire the last few days, jeonghan’s case gaining the entire country's attention. but even then, people were 50/50 about the chances of who would win even though the evidence was pretty clear. but you could never tell, the law wasn’t always fair sometimes and you just prayed that it would be fair to you. wonwoo was much better now and was healing well and he insisted on accompanying you, even though you told him he should stay at home and rest. 
you’re sitting in front, jeonghan on the opposite side and the court house was crowded, the media causing an uproar outside, eager to report every single second and eager to find out the final verdict of the case. the judge looks at you, and then at jeonghan before they announce the verdict.
“given the high profile of the case and the evidence submitted from both ends, we have carefully reviewed the evidence and points of this case. it has come to a unanimous decision that the defendant, mr. yoon jeonghan is found guilty and will serve ten years in jail and have to pay a fine as well for the damages done and emotional distress caused to the plaintiff. 
you cover your mouth in shock. you did it. you won! you couldn’t believe it as you cover your mouth in shock, tears filling your eyes. your father looks at you and the look he gave you was nothing short of proud. you won, your father was going to be free and jeonghan was going to go to jail, he was going to get punished and things were going to be okay now.
as people start filtering out, you’re looking for wonwoo, whom you can’t seem to spot anywhere. you had to tell him. through the crowd, you manage to head out of the courtroom where people start congratulating you and your father. but you were only focused on finding wonwoo.
you run out, only to end up getting ambushed by all the news reporters and journalists, all of them eager to know your thoughts as they bombard you with questions.
“how do you feel yn?”
“how does it feel to know your father is free”
“please share a few words”
you were being bombarded with questions that were going straight through your head and that’s when you heard someone call out your name - wonwoo. you turn around, spotting him on the other side, a few feet away from you. you smile and run towards him, running into his arms as he picks you up and spins you around.
“we did it”, you whisper, your face inches away from his. “we did it”, he repeats, giving you a proud smile. you lean in, kissing him, not caring about what people were going to think anymore. wonwoo kisses you back with the same fierceness, like he was telling you that he was going to stand by you, so that you could conquer the world with him.
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-epilogue-
after your father was dropped from all the accusations and was free, his company was slowly starting to gain traction again. the people were now in support of him, now more than ever and people wanted to know his story. but he always said one thing - that he wouldn't have been able to do it without you by his side. you ended up finally graduating college after your father approached them and they did give you extra credits for the trouble they caused you. you’d gotten your own office space in your dad’s building to work from and you were on your way to build your own company that stood for what it believed it.
you’re standing in front of wonwoo in your office with your arms crossed over your chest as you stare him down. he only stands, blinking down at you.
“what is it love?”, he asks.
“we can’t do this anymore wonwoo”, you tell and a wave of emotion seems to go through wonwoo’s face.
“do what?”, he asks calmly.
“this!”, you say, gesturing your hands between him and you.
“i don’t want you to be my bodyguard anymore”, you state and he furrows his brows, confused. 
“what do you mean?”, he asks. “did i do something wrong?”, he asks, taking a small step towards you.
“i don’t need a bodyguard anymore”, you tell sternly.
“i beg to differ”, he says calmly.
“i want you to be my boyfriend”, you say and he raises a brow at this proposition.
“i thought i already was”, he mumbles as he bashfully pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“no more of this bodyguard business, you can be my full-time boyfriend now”, you tell and you can see the small smile playing on wonwoo’s lips.
“but isn’t a bodyguard and boyfriend in one an advantage?”, he asks.
“but i just want you to be my boyfriend instead”, you say, pouting.
“but the perks of having a bodyguard and a boyfriend is truly one of a kind”, he says, stepping closer as hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him.
“oh really?”, you ask, tilting you heard to the side.
“and what might that be?”, you ask, settling your hands on wonwoo’s shoulders.
“you know, i can protect you, plus you get to see my handsome face 24/7”, he says and you snort. 
“what i know you love it. if i had a dollar everytime i caught you staring at me-”, 
“shut up”, you tell, giggling.
“and the most important perk of all, free kisses”, he tells and you chuckle even more. “what? you’re always stealing kisses from me and-”, you cut him off by kissing him, which only seems to prove the point he was making.
“see, you can’t do that”, he tells, leaning in.
“why not”, you ask, playing along.
“because you’re distracting me from my work”, he says, leaning in and kissing you again.
“that’s why you need to stop this bodyguard stuff and just be my boyfriend instead”, you whisper against his lips. 
“but then you won’t see me 24/7”, he tells.
“but then i can distract you”, you fill in.
“hm we’ll see about that love”, he says, before he captures your lips and kisses you breathlessly.
the end
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571 notes · View notes
webslingingslasher · 16 days
Note
cherry buys the cherry lube (best kind) as her last step to convince peter to fuck her and he just sighs JDBDDN
she’s just a girl😔 he needs to give her what she wants! in the name of feminism
an: nsfw content!
sitting crisscrossed in peter’s bed, you reach over the side to grab a small bag from your backpack. the thin plastic had three red thank you’s printed across it. you raise it over your head and give it a shimmy.
‘guess what i got?’
‘a lamborghini.’
‘so close! okay, you know that sex shop off that exit with the chinese place?’
‘no.’
‘oh. i’ll have to take you-’
‘no thanks.’
‘- but i went there and i found something. something i think you’d like and something you think we’d need.’
‘i’m scared.’
‘i’m not!’ you shake out the bag, a palm sized bottle of lube falls, it lands on your lap and you quickly present it to peter with a proud smile.
‘lube?’ you shove it out into his hands, ‘look at the flavor!’ peter squints at the bottle, then scoffs. ‘really? cherry?’
‘oh c’mon, it’s perfect!’ you start listing off why, ‘you call me cherry, you’re taking my cherry, and it’s cherry lube, to do said previous thing.’
you’re waiting for his excitement, you reach forward to push at his cheeks, forcing a smile. ‘what? you don’t find it funny? i thought i’d at least get a chuckle from you.’
peter watches as you tear the plastic around the cap with your teeth. ‘do you think it actually tastes like cherry?’ you stick out your tongue and put a small drop on it, you hold it out to peter and wave your hand along.
he’s got hesitant eyes when his own darts out, you give him the same amount. your face sours at the taste, peter has a poker face. ‘ew.’ it sticks around, you wipe your tongue off with your shirt.
'that was gross- unless you like it, i assume you'd be doing most of the tasting.' peter tosses the bottle into a trashcan you didn't know he had. 'is that new?' peter shakes his head, you tilt yours and try to place it. 'weird. never noticed it before. also, you owe me four dollars.'
'why do i have to pay you back?'
'you threw it away.'
'it was inedible.'
'false. i could've used it by myself.'
'go dig it out then.'
'i deserve more than trash lube, peter.'
'consider it a favor, you shouldn't be using scentsy stuff down below. i've heard they don't like it.'
you squint at him, 'what's it for then?' peter looks down at his crotch, 'blowjobs.' you drop your mouth a little, that hadn't occurred to you. 'oh, i see.' you have a moment where things click into place. 'so that would also explain flavored condoms.'
'please tell me you didn't get flavored condoms.'
'of course not.'
peter relaxes, you prefer him on edge.
'i don't know what size you wear. is it a one size fits all thing cause i've seen those videos where people hang them out the car window and they turn into balloons.'
'think of it as a pair of leggings. could you fit into a pair three sizes too small? sure can. is it comfortable? absolutely not.'
‘and ones that are too big just fall off? that explains a lot, actually.’
‘personally, i’d be more mortified if a condom came off because it was too big versus just admitting i need a smaller size.’
your eye twinkles, ‘and what size are you?’
‘you buy the tampons, i buy the condoms. deal?’ you can't lie, learning male anatomy has been your favorite part in all of this.
peter lays back with his hands behind his head, you straddle his lap and he's watching with close eyes. 'what? i can't get comfortable?'
he smiles. sometimes you get a ping in your lower stomach when he looks at you like that.
'all this bedspace and you choose to get comfortable on me?'
'i have a feeling this will be my favorite seat.' a smug grin.
'you're bold for a virgin.'
'would you rather me be scared to be near you, a man with a penis?' peter's head tilts, you know what's coming. 'oh? so you didn't have a panic attack when you saw my dick?'
you twitch your nose at the quip, you pat his tummy, hovering over his waistline. 'speaking of, you should let me see him again. i'm prepared and i wanna touch.'
peter's ignoring the spike in his blood pressure, he doesn't like the gleam in your eye. 'or... i think i have a suggestion for how you can make up the four dollars you owe me.'
'i owe you nothing, but lets hear it.'
you act out your words. 'you,' you point at him. 'me,' you point at yourself. 'having sex,' you gesture to your placement, then the bare spot next to him. before he can ruin it, you continue. 'right now.'
'do you think if you keep asking i'll say yes on a whim?' you lean in, inches from his face. 'you want to have sex with me. you want to take me to pound town. you want to make me a real woman.' it's a poor attempt at hypnotizing.
'okay, well, being a virgin doesn't mean you're not a real woman. second, you still get nervous about making out with me. you're not ready for sex.'
okay, maybe so. it's not your fault you don't know how to act around him, he's the first guy you've seen for longer than a week and he's not your boyfriend.
'i'm not anxious about kissing you.'
'oh, really? do it then.' he called your bluff. you've kissed people before but this whole arrangement was peter's idea so you've left all the initiation to him.
'fine, i'll kiss you.' you make no movements.
'i'm waiting.' you swallow tightly and move in, he's got that smile that makes your heart beat fast, you still haven't pinpointed why. 'i'm going to kiss you.' peter nods, 'go ahead.'
you get closer, 'i'm seriously gonna do it.'
'c'mon, cherry. i hate a tease.' you power through the part of your brain that tells you you've never kissed a guy, you've always waited for them to kiss you. you hold your breath and land a peck on his mouth.
'there. i did it.'
'did what? kiss me like i dared you?’ he finds it funny, that's what you get for being bold. you won't make him laugh this time. you move quick, your lips melt over his, you always forget how good of a kisser he is until you have your mouth on his and you never want to separate again.
it becomes sloppy, when you lick his bottom lip peter groans, it sends a spark to your thighs and you involuntarily clench around nothing. you gasp when you're flipped onto your back, peter's dotting a line over your jaw.
when a rough hand skids under your shirt, you suck in a breath.
'relax.' 
it's easier said than done. peter's right, you talk a big game but when he actually tries to do what you want, you hit the panic button.
'sorry, i was just thinking about the four bucks you owe me.'
'don't lie when i'm about to get handsy.' you squirm when fingers tuck themselves into the band of your bra. 'handsy how?' it's peter's turn to take control.
'how do you feel about hitting second base?'
'you're gonna finger me?' your voice pitches while your mind starts racing, you weren't prepared for this. 'easy, killer. second base is just me feeling you up, when you're ready for more, let me know.'
relief floods you, you get more comfortable underneath him. 'oh, okay. yeah, you can get handsy. do you want me to take my shirt off?'
'i want to suck your tits, you decide.'
your entire body flushes warmth, your cheeks are like lava. 'oh! i've never had that done. does it feel good?'
'i don't know, but i'm here if you want to find out.' you nibble on your bottom lip, it's all about eventually having sex and part of that might include your boobs.
'i'd like to find out.'
peter doesn't rush into it. for someone who doesn't like to be teased, he loves teasing. it feels like an hour passes before you're bare chested, a slurry of insecurity flashes when he doesn't immediately go to town.
'you're beautiful.' peter feels a little silly saying it, he hasn't really complimented a girl so softly under the guise of sex before.
your heart pounds, you've never heard it said so authentically. peter genuinely believes what he's saying, you don't think a guy has ever called you beautiful. you've gotten hot and sexy but never beautiful. you feel the need to give him something back.
'you're handsome.' you might be bad at this, you feel his smile in the crook of your neck.
'thanks, cherry.'
slow marks dance over your collarbones, when they reach your chest you almost flinch. 'i'm okay.' you were speaking to yourself, but maybe peter also needs the reminder. 'are you trying to convince me or yourself?'
'yes.'
'you can tap out. no harm, no foul.' no, you got this far and if you back out it would be taking ten steps backwards. 'i'm not tapping out, i'm waiting to see if what you're saying is worth all the hoopla.'
peter snorts, 'hoopla.' you're about to give a rebuttal, instead you grip the back of his head and let out a breathy 'oh wow,' when peter swirls his tongue around you.
it's igniting you all over, you don't know why you thought it would feel bad. when there's a vacuum seal and peter starts sucking, you're a goner. when he mixes in that little twirl method, you let out an earth shattering moan.
your hand slams over your mouth. 'sorry! i've never done that before and i-' there's a dark look in peter's eyes, you can't decide if he's more upset about your words or making him stop.
'don't ever apologize for your pleasure. got it?' you nod quickly, you'd agree to anything if it meant peter would keep going. 'okay, okay, got it.' it's all he needs and he's back to work, the breast he doesn't have in his mouth is being treated with his hand.
there's double sensation, peter's going back and forth and now you can't think straight and... and... you're about to come and you've never done that in front of another person.
'please stop!'
peter drops his mouth open and freezes, he's moving with caution when he pulls away from you. you race for air while the knot in your stomach slowly untangles.
'are you okay?' peter's looking over every inch of your body, you smile sheepishly and look anywhere but him. 'yeah. i was just like... you know?'
'no.'
'i was gonna... you know? and i've never done that with another person.' peter's trying to jump through the hoops of your 'you know?'s' you say that a lot and very rarely does he actually know what you mean.
'you were about to come?' everything burns, how is he so casual about all of this? 'yeah.' the look on his face tells you he already knew that. 'what did you think the point was? just for fun?'
'you didn't tell me that! how was i supposed to know?' he gives a half shrug. 'it gets some people off and others need more. it was a gamble, nice to know which crowd you fit in though.'
you feel a bit silly, of course that was the intention. wasn't this whole thing about your pleasure? 'if you get me off, i have to get you off.' peter's quick to shut you down.
'you don't have to do anything. sex isn't transactional.'
'yeah, but, peter, i want to please you too. this doesn't do much for me if you keep me away from you.' peter takes your concern to heart, he nods thoughtfully and calmly explains his hesitation.
'i understand that, and i promise we'll get there. mutual pleasure is something we need to conquer before sex, yes. but for right now, as someone who's done those things for a while, i'm on the backburner. i need to catch you up to speed on some things first, okay? you've never come in front of someone, you don't need to be trying to tack blowjob skills on top of that.'
peter has an excellent argument, you just feel bad he's not getting anything in return. he doesn't owe you anything, he's just doing you a favor and he absolutely doesn't owe you loyalty. it's not like peter likes you, he's just doing you a favor, that's all this is.
'just because...' your tongue feels thick, it feels hard to say what you're about to say and you don't know why. 'just because you're helping me out doesn't mean you have to suffer. so if you want to hookup with someone more experienced while we-'
'no. that's not what this is about, that mentality is why we're not just jumping into sex. cherry lube or not.' you don't know why that relieves you, you don't know why you feel so much better knowing peter wasn't looking for anything with anyone else.
just in case; 'if you do hook up with someone else-'
'i won't.'
'-i believe you. but if you do, can you promise not to tell me? if you need to take care of yourself outside of this just don't let me find out, please.' it'd be crushing to know what peter's doing with you while knowing he's doing the same thing with another girl who could actually pleasure him back.
'cherry, seriously, that's not what this is about.' it's sex. it's only about sex. how could you be confusing it?
'sex is about open and honest communication. it's about trusting each other and being vulnerable. it doesn't matter if it's a one night stand or a committed relationship, it takes a lot to open up to someone else like that. if, and i wouldn't, but i'll entertain you- if i wanted to step out of this, i'd tell you first, because that's what you're supposed to do.'
when you picked peter out of the line of frat boys you had no idea you got the one who was all about slow and steady. you expected a quick one night and to be sent off to live the world as a non-virgin, not the beefy gentleman in front of you.
'you're one of a kind, parker.' peter winks at you, you feel warm. 'same to you, cherry. this only works if we're open with each other, i'm not just teaching you the physical parts of sex, i'm trying to show you the mental and emotional side of it because that's way more important than the actual sex, does that make sense?'
you think you get what he's saying. 'so, because you already know these things, your pleasure doesn't matter right now?'
'correct.'
'and if it matters to me?'
'don't let it. because if it becomes an issue i'll...' he trails off, he's waiting on you to finish it for him. you'll prove you've been listening. 'tell me.'
'bingo! look at you, cherry smart.' you groan, 'that was gross.' peter squeezes your knee, he's looking over your face for any hesitation, he doesn't see any.
'are we good? we're on the same page now?'
you nibble on your bottom lip, you think you covered everything. you didn't know there were so many things to sex. 'yeah, same page.' peter's happy with that, he nods once and turns back on the horny part of his brain.
'still wanna call it quits or keep going?'
same page, same page, same page, same-
'keep going.' you sound nervous, peter catches it. 'are you sure? we can put it on pause and-'
'no, i wanna...' time to be a big girl, you're both on the same page. 'i wanna have you make me...' you lose your tenacity but you still power through, even if you mumble the last word. 'come.'
peter tells you if you wanna stop, at any point for any reason, just call it like you did before. you agree but tell yourself you were going to get through it because the sooner you open yourself up for pleasure, the sooner peter opens himself up for the same thing.
it's not a hard thing to power through, this time you're not shy about quiet whimpers or tugging at the back of peter's hair. 'oh my god,' you squeeze your eyes shut, there are zings of want being sent into your core, it's an unreal feeling.
peter grazes his teeth over your nipple, your back arches from his bed. 'okay, yeah, shit, fuck, okay.' you're bad at staying calm, peter's humming into your skin, you want more. you want everything he's given you multiplied by ten.
a switch to your left breast, it's just as satisfying. when his thumb tweaks your bud, you push up further. 'i want more, please more.' you don't know what you're asking for, you're hoping peter will help you out.
peter sucks harshly, your breath hitches and at that perfect moment, he grinds his hips into yours. an egregious moan rips from your throat, you can't help the tumbling whimper, it sounds pathetic. peter must like it, he rolls harsher, his jeans meet your bottoms perfectly.
'doin' okay?' you answer by shoving his head back down. 'mhm, keep doing that please.' peter follows  the instruction, whatever gets you off, he'll do.
bump and grind, he's back on your right tit. it's been ten minutes but you can already tell he prefers that one. it took longer to build because you edged yourself, but peter hit that one spot and your thighs are a vice grip around his hips.
'oh my fucking god, peter.' he said he doesn't know if it would feel good, you wish you could share a fraction of what you're experiencing. your lower stomach tightens, peter latches down harder as if he has a sixth sense for what you're about to do.
you don't know what to do with your hands, when you grit your teeth and meet his miniature thrusts, they land on peter's arms and your nails dig in. your eyes slam closed, you see white light as if your picture was taken with the flash on.
'shit, shit, shit, shit!' you swear you're drawing blood from him but all you can think about is the heat exploding from your body. your hips buck they never have before, there's a sense of delight backing it up.
you've never had an orgasm like this in your entire life. it feels so different with another person, it felt like it was never ending. your legs feel like they locked up, you stop breathing for a solid second before you're gasping.
peter pulls back, your head is still spinning. your chest rapidly rises and falls, you feel marks over your face but you're so far away in your mind it's muddled.
'c'mon, come back to me.' you feel more awake, there's a wet kiss to your cheek, then another to your chin. 'c'mon, cherry. find your mind.' you do, your eyes open, you forgot you had them closed. it's like peeling them apart.
you feel wrecked.
'hi.' peter's got a cocky grin, he deserves it. you run your hand down your face, you feel fuzzy. 'hi.' you remember the harm you might've caused, you slightly shake when you reach for peter's arm, there's no marks.
'how are you feeling?' like you're leaking into his mattress, like every muscle is weighed down, like you couldn't stand up if you tried. the best you can come up with is, 'floaty.'
'that might stick around for a minute. want some water?' you hadn't thought of it before, but suddenly you feel parched. peter reads your mind, he's already holding out his water bottle.
'everything's better right after, no idea why.' peter guesses it's something with endorphins and brain chemicals, but he's never bothered to actually look into it.
after sitting up, you chug. even after the water you're still breathless. 'holy shit.' falling forward, peter catches you. you lay on him as a half hug, all he's doing is supporting your weight. you feel terribly heavy right now.
'thank you so much, oh my god. holy shit, a guy just made me come in my pants, what the fuck is my life?' a sprinkle of kisses from your ear to your cheek, 'don't build my ego too much or you'll have to deal with it.'
'i feel so heavy right now.' you drop to the pillow at peter's push, you don't have it in you to fight back. it's not necessary because peter falls right next to you and scoops you into his hold.
or, another way to put it, peter's cuddling you. peter's cuddling you while he's kissing your shoulder, it makes your head spin even more. 'what are you doing?' you're not fighting him on it, if anything you're leaning in further, he's just never cuddled you before. it feels nice.
'aftercaring you. doing my best to get you back down to earth from your floaty space.' you nod like you understand, there's still some things you need to get better at.
'hey, peter?'
'yeah?' he's much quieter.
'you don't owe me four dollars anymore.' a puff of hot air into your skin, at least he finds you funny. 'good. you were never gonna get it anyways.' 
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heizours · 1 year
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BREAK UP
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summary. asking the genshin men “what would you do if we break up?”
tags. gn! reader, grammatical mistakes may occur
cw. just a mild curse (childe’s part), call signs, and none ig, pls let me know if i forgot something
feat. diluc, venti, childe, scaramouche, ayato
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INTRO.
Really, it was just a hypothetical question, and you had no intention of seriously initiating it in the first place.
But, this question has been itching in your mind for the past few days, and you were genuinely curious what would be the reaction or response you will get from him.
Without further ado, you made your way towards him as you tap his shoulder. He didn’t even get the chance yet to turn around and face you, but you’re already here opening your mouth to speak.
“What would you do if we break up?”
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DILUC.
He immediately stops whatever he was doing at that moment, before slowly turning around to look at you.
No, he is definitely not searching for a hidden answer that you’re using this question as a gateway to leave him. No, he is definitely not a millisecond away from bringing you to a private corner to ask you if he did something very wrong and come talk about it.
But, seeing the curious look you’re putting up in front of him made his suspicions decrease for a mere moment. Besides, how could he not respond to that question when you’re already probably thinking of leaving him right now? With that, he gave his answer in the most persuading way he could come up with.
“As much as I hope for that moment to never come, I’ll try to listen and understand whatever your heart wishes. Though [Name], if there comes a time that it does happen, I want you to know that I and my heart will always remember someone like you. You loved me and understood me when I felt that no one did.”
His answer didn’t fail to give you the amount of butterflies you’re receiving right now, and the possible events where there is a chance you can leave him are now at the very back on your mind. Because, who in their right mind would even leave the Diluc Ragnvindr? Only a fool would do that. Suddenly, you were snapped out of your thoughts when Diluc gently grabbed the both of your hands and brought it closer to him.
“..Now, it’s my turn. Any idea why would you suddenly ask me that, love?”
VENTI.
Oh dear, he would act that the it doesn’t faze him in the tiniest bit, but he’s actually getting nervous on why are you suddenly pinning him this query out of the blue.
He turns around to face you, while continuing to be cheery as he always do but, if you look and scoot a little closer there is a glint of worry and concern washing over him. 
“Oh windblume, who said that I am leaving you? Kidding! But, before I give my answer, may I ask the reason for it?”
Really it’s just his way of confirming if you have plans of leaving him after this event, or you’re question stands as nothing but a harmless one. As you responded that it’s something he doesn’t need to worry about because you’re just as interested as he is, he felt the wind of relief washing over him. 
In any situation, Venti could stay calm as he can but if it would be anything associated with you, he couldn’t help but feel this gut twist in fear. The bard laid his head on your shoulder to give you the answer you’re looking from him.
“Well, we can never guarantee how much time could a person stay in our lives, but if there comes a time it happens between us, I’ll continue to protect, reach and guide you along the wind. You were the first in all my firsts, and I’m willing to make you as the last of my lasts.
CHILDE.
‘Oh shit’ is the first thing that comes into his mind, ‘Don’t tell me they’re planning to..’ is the second thing that comes into his mind, and ‘But what if it’s a joke?’ is the last thing that comes into his mind before warily facing you.
Tries to take the situation lightly and calmly, and he almost succeeded if it wasn’t for his body language. His confidence and outgoing personality he always shows you slowly vanishes, as nervousness was written all over him.
He kind of acts like a boyfriend who’s overthinking and reflecting on his past actions and words, because why would you suddenly ask him something like this, if you aren’t affected right? Yes, he definitely suspects something is wrong. Regardless the amount of suspicion you are giving him, he obliged to your query.
“It’s quite expected that I’ll have a hard time if that happens, because if I could compare you to something significant to me, you’re like my life source, my home, my rest and my peace. Even if we will remain apart for the mean time, I’ll come back to court you again and again just so you can be with me one more time.”
After hearing your statement related to the suppositional question that it’s completely harmless and you had no intention of commencing it, Childe’s uneasiness morphed into relief as he engulf you in a tight hug but not crushable to crush you.
“I’m thinking that someone had bribe you into this...”
SCARAMOUCHE
He scoffs, not before giving you the most nastiest side eye you’ve ever seen. Though, do not be fooled by his demeanour because there is more to that than what meets the naked eye.
At the back of his mind, something tells him that 50% of that is true that you’re planning to leave him after this and another 50% tells him that it is partially false as you’re just being inquisitive.
Questions his what ifs and it just continues to pile up countlessly, until it comes to the point where he has to vigorously shake his head to snap him out of it. He takes a quick look at you, before fully facing you while his arms are crossed.
“Who put that silly little question in your head? I’ll make sure they would be the ones to leave.”
As he saw you frantically waving in the air that it’s no one else but you who put that question in your head and that he doesn’t have to answer it, he couldn’t help but lightly smile. Sure, most of your antics can annoy him but you’re the only person who can deem him tolerable, and it can be said as the same for you. He let out a sigh, before mumbling something that is only for your ears only, as the heat rises up to his cheeks.
“We won’t break up, and I’ll make sure of that. Even if we do, I’ll just come tailing back to you. You’re such an idiot for thinking that I would do that...Stop it with that smile will you?! Ugh, just come here.”
AYATO.
Raises an eyebrow at you in confusion, then that confusion switches to concern as the scrolls he was busy putting on work was now long gone. He looks up at you who’s simply standing there as if the question isn’t affecting you one bit.
Is someone bad mouthing you? Is someone pressuring you? Did they do something? Who forced you into this? Whatever it is, Ayato is determined to find out what’s the root of this question.
Dating Kamisato Ayato is not a joke, for goodness sake he is a leader of one of the most influential clans in Inazuma, so when the public found out about his relationship with you, of course there will be a pressure and a certain inconvenience given to you.
“Why so sudden with this darling? Is there a problem? Would you like to talk about it? I do not know where is this coming from, but I can assure you that we will find a way to fix it.”
Seeing the surprise look on your face, and the way you sheepishly told him that you were just being nosy about it was enough for him to connect the dots. Good, nothing bad happened and you’re perfectly fine, that’s all that matters to him. But, going back to your question, he smiled at you with a glint of refusal in his eyes before answering.
“I am confident that me or you won’t leave this relationship, even though my work serves as a distraction, that reason alone will not stop us from loving each other. If it does happen in the future and you gave me a valid reason for it, I shall perhaps let you go but that doesn’t mean I will also stop loving you.”
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Text
FOLIE Á DEUX ─── jonathan crane ✧
ೃ⁀➷ “Not all love is gentle. Sometimes it's gritty and dirty and possessive, sometimes it's not supposed to be careful or soft at all. Sometimes it feels like teeth.” - Azra T.
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pairing. professor!jonathan crane x stalker!reader
summary. you’ve been stalking your professor for 8 months, keeping track of his movements with your diary. one day, said professor informs that you left something of yours behind in his office…
warnings. swearing, choking, p in v, dacryphilia, oral sex (f), dubcon (if u squint), stalking, breeding, orgasm delay/denial, unprotected sex, hair pulling, student-teacher relationship, SMUT UNDER THE CUT
word count. 4.5k
a/n. this is my first ever smut, so if it sucks i really do apologize. also, im kinda unsure where the plot on this one went, but whatever! lastly, i do try to keep all my fics gender-neutral, but seeing as this is smut, i had to choose, and the reader is afab.
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“Miss [Name], please stay behind after class. I need just a moment's worth of your time.” Your professor said absently, not looking at you, when he handed back your essay on the human id.
You hummed, nodding your head carefully. “Yes, Professor Crane.” 
Inwardly, you swooned at his choice of words: “I need just a moment's worth of your time.” He’d highlighted the existence of both you and him in the sentence, as if coexisting together, with one another, was plausible.
Later, when class ended, you’d packed up all your things, and walked into Professor Crane’s office off to the side, where he was tidying up. 
“You asked me to stay behind, sir?” 
“Yes,” Crane acknowledged your presence, looking at you squarely. “You forgot something in my office during our last tutoring session.” 
Your eyes widened slightly, both at the fact you’d left one of your items behind, and that your Professor had seen the item, and knew it belonged to you. He hadn’t mistaken it as his own, or anyone else's - he knew it was yours.
“Oh!” You said, a beat later. “Thank you for telling me. Where is it, exactly?”
“Before we get to that matter - do take a seat - I believe we need to have a, ah, talk.” He gestured to the seat in front of his office desk, the same seat you sat on every Wednesday at 6:30 for the past few months. 
“A talk, sir?” You pried, but sat down anyway, reveling in the one-on-one time you were experiencing with your favorite professor. 
That was the main motivator for getting tutored by the man - you adored going in, having an entire hour of him all to yourself. 
Prior, you pretended not to get some of his lessons, let your grade in his psychology class slip to a pitiful mark so low he couldn’t ignore it. You’d started the semester with a stellar grade, so he took it upon himself to offer tutoring - he knew you could understand his method of teaching, and theorized that you hadn’t been able to pay attention in class because of the sheer size of people attending. 
In actuality, however, you understood everything completely - it was merely your obsessive attraction following him like the sound of thunder trailing behind lightning. 
Crane scrubbed his face when you sat, thinking intently on what he wanted to say. “I need you to understand, Miss [Name], that a student-teacher relationship is completely taboo. Such a thing can never - should never, occur.”
Your breath hitched in your throat, and suddenly, you were reminded how you hadn’t seen that book in a while, you hadn’t read it when you woke up, when you went for lunch, you hadn’t even written anything about him for the day—
Your professor slid open one of his desk drawers, and pulled out the familiar pocket notebook you kept with yourself at all times. 
“I’m telling you about rules, Miss [Name], because you forgot this.” He said, voice low. “And, pardon my intrusion, but the stuff you have written here is quite… intriguing.”
Your heart began racing in your chest, a cold sweat trailing down your back. “Professor, I- whatever you read in there—“ You began, but froze when he opened the notebook, thumbing through the pages. 
Crane cleared his throat, looking intently at the words. His expression changed several times as his eyes flitted over your writing, and you felt your body burn with shame. 
“January 26th. Professor's gloves were found in the nook of his podium. I was looking for the green apple he’d forgo from finishing, his teeth tracks fresh on the alabaster flesh, but found his winter wear instead. Gloves were brought home - I imagined he’d come over to mine, undressed his biting winter clothing, and forgot his sweet mittens here.” Your professor read your diary out loud. Crane looked like he enjoyed your shame being laid out bare, but you were too absorbed in a whirlwind of emotion to notice. 
“P—Professor, please, I - I can explain, I didn’t mean anything—“
“April 17th. Professor came down with a flu, like I expected. I saw him walking in last week’s evening downpour and waited for what day this week he’d call in. Later, he bought cough syrup and aspirin at the convenience store. I watched him struggle to care for himself, covered head to toe in blankets, missing meals, barely able to keep upright. I wish professor knew how well I could care for him, how I fulfill his every request and need. I saw how touchy he was, how he fidgeted, that feverish want — I could satiate him like no-one else.” 
His lips enunciated every word, and the longer he went on reading, the dizzier you felt; your professor, your darling, had found out - he had found out - he had found fucking out -
“Be honest with me, Miss [Name]. Do you stalk me?” Your professor said, slipping off his wire-framed glasses. The man leaned in closer now, elbows resting on the wooden desk. 
Your eyes darted away from him, looking anywhere but forwards. You felt like you had been stripped away, so bare your professor could count how many ribs you had, how many minor hairline fractures your tattered bones had collected over the years. You tried to analyze the man’s reaction through your peripheral, but it was to no avail - he was as cold as he had been during class, during your entire time knowing the professor. 
You breathed, in and out, analyzing the situation tenfold, precisely, trying to find a way out of this place alive, dignity intact. Then, you found it. 
This man had ensnared you, entranced you with his delicious charm and carefully spoken words. You repeat inwardly to yourself: Crane knew all the right words, all the right places to touch. If he dared press charges, you would tell the world he hurt you first. 
“Yes, Professor Crane.” You nodded, unabashed after deciding how to deal with everything. He can’t touch me with this. I’ll just go first: please, he took advantage of me! I needed to pass his class… and he offered a solution to me. He’s lying! Lying to you all. He just wants to destroy me… and hide his sin.
“The human body knows when someone’s watching them, but you haven’t noticed, not once in the 8 months I’ve watched you. You didn’t notice, even when I followed you home, even to Arkham. Every obscure outing you’ve had, I’ve been there.”
“I’m quite alarmed by this information, Miss [Name]. Moreso by the absence of your remorse.” Crane said, but mere seconds later a low laugh was drawn out of him, looking more amused than alarmed if anything. 
Crane’s tone was husky, nearing a purr, and he clasped his large, calloused hands together contemplatively. “What were you going to do to me, Miss [Name]? Or were you just going to watch, standby my life?”
You chewed the inside of your cheek, unable to respond to his provocations. You didn’t want to alarm him further, tell him you’d been planning to finally have him, once and for all, as soon as you got a hold of his house keys and got the chance to replicate your own pair. You didn’t tell him that you were barely restraining yourself from knocking him out during your tutoring sessions, wanting your darling all for yourself for more than an hour a week. 
“Are you not afraid, Miss [Name]? What I can do to your life with this information? How I can ruin you, paint you mad enough to be admitted to Arkham?” he continued, closer than ever before and whispering in your ear. His plush lips brushed past the shell of your ear, making your heart skip a beat. 
You winced, both from the feeling of him near you and his sweet voice spewing poison in your ear, but quickly composed yourself, for you knew things he didn’t know you knew. 
Then - you weren’t quite sure what possessed you, but - your hand came up to his hair, tugging so he could hear you, “Professor - or, should I say… Scarecrow, what would you do, if I told the police what Gotham University’s psychology professor did in his spare time?” 
“What would you do, if I plastered pictures of the renowned Doctor Jonathan Crane wearing the familiar burlap sack mask all over Gotham - especially in places the Batman frequented?”
“I can destroy you, sir.” Your voice was quiet, but dangerous, a terribly alluring thing, like a melody Crane heard a long time ago and remembered every time he smelt the must of an old piano. “Don’t push me.”
This time, Crane stilled, turning to face you fully. His gaze had darkened, looking at you through his long lashes. “My dear, you should’ve just told me how bad you wanted to find out how this fear-toxin of mine can break you.” He whispered, so quiet you had to strain yourself to hear. 
With your professor's warm breath fanning on the nape of your neck, you couldn’t help how you squirmed, clenched your thighs together - especially when you had been dreaming of something like this for the past eight months. You couldn’t count how many times you found yourself with your hands down your pants at the thought of your darling professor having his way with you… controlling you completely. 
You didn’t answer the man for a moment, gulping down the dryness in your throat. “Would you, sir? Would you let fear dominate me like those tortured souls in the Narrows?”
Crane’s eyes trailed across your face, then he pulled back, leaning in his chair, a grin all teeth and no tongue spreading across his lips. There was something there, you realized, something he noticed in the intone of your voice - had he noticed the neediness, the warble as your thoughts went elsewhere? The arch in your back, your body desperate to be as close to him as possible?
“Can I tell you what I think?” said Crane, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. “I think you want me to. I think you want me to see you tremble… shake in fear… you want me to hear you beg. I think you want to be utterly consumed by me.” 
The deep timbre of his voice, the suggestion in his words, how he stared you down with each syllable, sent electric shivers down your spine. You took in a sharp breath, leaning your head back to look at the ceiling, compose yourself, when—
Crane’s rough hand gripped at your throat, thumb caressing the little notch at the center, and your heart fluttered, jumping at his touch. 
“Fear is an addicting, beautiful thing, is it not? You’re afraid of me, but you can’t help how fucking needy you are.” Your professor spoke, pressing down further on your neck. He had noticed. 
His touch made your skin feel like it was on fire, the rough pads of his fingertips digging bruises into your delicate skin. It was the most delicious thing you had ever felt, and you leaned into it, despite the connotations of death by asphyxiation looming over your shoulder. 
Your professor manhandled you, dragging your weak body over to his side of the desk, hand still curved neatly around your throat. You were growing dizzy, a fearful, pleasure-filled fog slowly clouding your mind, and you couldn’t speak. All you could do was let out little squeaks of surprise & pleasure, a moan rumbling out of you as he pressed down further. 
Crane was saying something, but you couldn’t tell under the pressure. His facial expression was all you needed, however; his eyes were bloodshot, lustful, so laser-focused that, if looks could kill, you’d have been long gone, while a feral grin replaced his emotionless facade. Crane’s usually well-kept appearance had dissolved, and his hair was askew, tie loose, buttons haphazardly undone. 
Suddenly, the man pressed himself flush against you, pressing his face into your hair, your neck - losing himself in you. His tongue flicked out, dragging a long stripe down the side of your neck, and you jumped, a startled whine tearing out of your choked-up throat. 
His grip on you tightened. “What? I’m just having a taste. Is that so wrong?” At your wide eyes, and silent response, he let out a fitful laugh. “You’re coated in shame, darling. You’re sour.”
You squirmed - not because you didn’t enjoy it - you just couldn’t breathe, but Crane didn’t care. His fingernails were sharp, maybe even drawing some of your blood.
“Plea— sir, I can’t breathe,” you stuttered out raspily. His face remained unchanged while listening to your pathetic pleas, before he leaned in close. 
“Beg for it. Beg like you’re terrified for your life. You might as well be,” he said, and he began pressing his thumb into the center of your throat, choking you fully now. 
You nodded - as much as the allowance between his hand and your head allowed, anyway. “Professor, please,” you said breathily, “please let me go. I’ll do any- anything, just puh— please stop.” 
“Ah, there it is,” Your professor cooed, eyes shutting at the sweet intone of your pleaing, distressed voice. He was losing himself in your words. “Keep going… and don’t forget the crying. It's my favorite part.”
“Let - me go! Please,” you whimpered helplessly, mustering thick, heavy tears to form at the corners of your eyes as you saw black spots dotting your vision. 
A lump formed in your throat, choking your words. “Please… stop! Let me - breathe,” You said, leaning delightedly into his touch. His other hand was now digging painfully into your hip, as if the professor were focussing intensely on holding back. 
“Look at you go,” Crane clicked his tongue, eyes opening and gazing deep into you. He pulled you in closer to him, letting go of your abused throat. 
You finally breathed, taking in such large bouts of air you might’ve choked and keeled over right there. But then, Crane’s hands at your side crawed carefully to your rear, while the other hand came up to the crown of your head to pet you. 
He whispered into the top of your head, “Did you mean it?” 
“Mean what?” You said raspily, your face pressed flat against his bandy chest. 
His hand found the swell of your ass, fingers grabbing hold and squeezing so tight you were sure there’d be a bruise later, “About doing anything. For me.”
You nodded, still not looking at him. This answer didn’t please him, however, and the hand that had been petting you tangled through your hair and roughly pulled you away, to look up at him. “In words.”
“Y— yes. I’ll do anything for you.” You rattled off, prickling pain twisting in your scalp. 
“You’ll be a good girl for me?”
“The best.” 
A grin twisted his pink, plush lips, and he promptly pushed you face down flat against his cold, wooden desk. It was rough, and sudden, pain blooming in your side. But there was a tug in your lower stomach at the way he handled you, all selfish and touchy and focused solely on chasing after his own pleasure. 
Crane’s hands roamed all over your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. His touch was insatiable, rubbing and petting and kneading at every part of your body. 
His hands found your thighs, squeezing at the flesh, before hiking up your skirt and inspecting your panties. “Oh, you’re fucking soaked,” Crane rumbled out, voice like gravel. “You liked it, didn’t you? When I said I’d admit you to Arkham.”
Then, you heard him kneel down, and begin to press sloppy, wet kisses on your legs. “Be honest,” he said between kisses, “you want me to admit you, have you all to myself in isolation.”
You didn’t respond, instead whimpering and bucking forward when you could feel Crane’s sharp teeth brush over your sensitive skin. He noticed the effect he had on you, and you felt him smile against you. 
“Please,” you keened out, not dissimilar to how you begged him just moments ago, “stop teasing, Professor.”
You felt Crane’s hot breath fan over your clothed mound, pausing for a moment to catch his breath. “Stop teasing, how?” he said at last, before suddenly pushing your panties to the side and licking a stripe up your cunt. He lapped at your lips, collecting your wetness on his tongue, but he didn’t go further. 
“Pro - Professor,” you whined, grounding out a low moan. It wasn’t enough, and he knew it. He liked playing with you, making you squirm and shake and beg for more.
“What? This not enough for you?” He pulled away, and you hissed at the cold that hit you. Then, he tugged, hard, pulling both your underwear and your skirt down to your knees. 
“You want me to eat you out till you’re a trembling fucking mess, don’t you?” He buried himself between your legs, “I knew you were a horny little slut.”
Finally, his tongue found you once more, and pushed deep into your folds. Crane’s tongue ran across every rivet your pussy had, before darting out to your clit, suckling at the velvet bundle of nerves. His touch drew out a high-pitched keen, your back arching. 
You couldn’t see him, face still pressed against the wooden desk, but you could hear him, the filthy squelching of your pussy and his tongue making your knees buckle. 
“Fuck, Jonathan,” you choked out, when he went deeper into your quivering hole, your body tingling like nothing you’d ever felt before. At your reaction, his name curling around your pretty little lips, he went faster, wet mouth brushing against you, licking you up and down, animalistic, following his instinct to a tee.
“Please, wait -“ You said, feeling the knot in your insides grow tighter, the heat washing over you like a steaming shower, toes curling in your flats. 
“What?” He growled out beneath you, not letting up his assault on your cunt. 
“I don’t - don’t wanna come on your tongue…” You said, shaking your head weakly against the desk. “Wanna - wanna feel you in me.”
Jonathan snorted, and continued to lap up your insides, “D’you think you have a fucking choice? Huh? I know you’re a whore, you could do this all day. I’ll just make you come again on my cock.”
Before you could protest, or even just whine at his words, you shut your eyes, feeling yourself come undone, your legs barely able to keep you upright. His hands had reached away from your thighs, rough fingers toying with your fleshy button, maximizing the climax washing over you tenfold. 
“Jonathan, Jonathan!” You practically screamed out, heat in your stomach pulsing rapidly. 
“Ugh, fuck,” You heard him say, “you’re creaming all over my fucking face.” 
You were a complete mess by the time he pulled away from you, your high washing away as Crane wiped the come and wetness off his face. 
“You came that hard, just on my tongue?” He mocked, fingers spreading your lips and observing your swollen pussy as you laid flat, weakly gripping the edge of the desk so you’d stay standing. 
“Well,” he said, reaching down to his pants and undoing his belt buckle and fly, “M’not done with this sweet little cunt just yet.”
Your eyes widened, “I’m - I’m still sensitive, wait-“
Jonathan didn’t listen, however, letting his pants and boxers pool at his feet, stroking himself in the artificial light of his office, which smelt like sweat and sex. 
He spat on his hand, first coating his cock in it, then your parted lips (which you theorized was just because he wanted to feel you up again), before lining up his thick head at your entrance. “God,” he groaned, “you’re so fucking wet.”
You keened at the intrusion you felt between your legs, “Jonathan, please, jus’ - give me a sec to rest —“ You were interrupted however, by the shock of how big he felt. 
You hadn’t gotten a look at him, but as he let himself slowly enter you, you could tell it was bigger than anything you’d ever taken before. “You’re - you’re too big!” you squeaked out, “You won’t fit.”
He laughed, hands resting on your hips as he held you upright. “I’ll make it fit,” he said, before roughly pounding the rest of himself into you, stretching out your inexperienced cunt. 
You choked, his fat cock pushing you wider than you’d ever been before, the pain biting at you, a burning feeling spreading within your lower body. “Jon- Jonathan,” was all you could say, as he slowly pulled out, pure relief written on your face, until he sank right back into you, somehow deeper than before. 
Tears welled in your eyes, as he gripped harshly on the flesh of your hips, making you pound back and forth on him. His cock was hard, and thick, and he was forcing the thing deep within you at an excruciatingly quick pace. Your sensitivity was the cherry on top to this whole situation - you were trembling, body weak, shallow breaths and teary moans tearing out of you at the overstimulation.
Soon, however, the pain slowly dissolved into a filthy, exquisite pleasure that echoed throughout your entire body. The rhythm your professor had gotten to was downright perfect, filling you completely and making you clench in all the right places. Crane made your brain go foggy, focussing solely on the sound of your skin slapping against each other in the quiet, after-hours office, his taller frame encapsulating you completely.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he cooed, hands moving to splay across your ass and spread you open further. “How many cocks have taken this sweet pussy, huh?”
You gulped. “Just,” you started, but then your eyes rolled to the back of your head, stopping you mid-sentence as his length brushed up to your most sensitive spot.
“How,” he gripped you tighter, “many,” slipped out, “cocks!”  then thrust into you roughly, rougher than before and making the desk screech forward a few inches.
“Just one!” You said at last, words choked up as his long cock pierced you. 
“Just one, huh?” He said and began pounding in and out of you faster, rougher, needier, “I bet you didn’t even fucking come, you’re so tight. This pretty pussy of yours is practically virgin.”
“Uh-huh,” you said incoherently, thoughts blending together. “Jus’ a - a fucking virgin for you,” you babbled out, losing yourself in the fast-paced pleasure he was serving on a silver platter. 
“That you are,” Jonathan growled, “you’re just my horny virgin. Mine.” Every thrust he plunged into you brushed up against that plush spot deep within you, making you drool, body going slack. 
“Oh, jesus, you’re so fucked out,” he murmured, looking down at your limp, trembling form. “Drunk on my thick fucking cock.”
The ecstasy was becoming too much for you now, controlling you completely, like if he stopped fucking you right now you’d be so fucking needy, going slowly insane until he touched you again. You knew you wouldn’t be able to fuck anyone else and feel the same; he made you feel fucking feral, instinctual, your id going into drive and controlling you instead of logic. Your darling was the only one you wanted to offer yourself up completely to. He could do anything he fucking wanted to you, and you’d take it in stride. 
“Jonathan,” you keened, feeling your walls clench around him tighter, “m’close.”
“No, you’re not,” he said, voice deep and dangerous, “keep that orgasm in, whore, till I tell you to.”
Your cheeks burned, distraught at the denial of your release, especially when his cock slipped out of you as he flipped you over. Quickly, however, he rammed his cock back into you. You were facing each other now, and you could see how hot and bothered he looked, despite how confident and careless his words had been as he fucked you.
His lips were bitten between his teeth, hair sticking to the sweat on his face, cheeks flushed. He was focussed entirely on getting back that rhythm, and you let him, watching how his gorgeous features contorted as your hot cunt sucked him in. 
Your arms reached around his neck, and he promptly lifted your legs up to hook around his back, making him fill you even further. 
“Fuck me!” You squealed, his shaft reaching places you didn’t know could be reached. It was getting harder to stop your impending orgasm, and your felt fucking sick at how sweetly he was stretching you, how you knew you couldn’t let go no matter what despite the delicious pleasure. 
“Already am, baby,” he grumbled, rutting in and out of you at a dizzying pace. You felt his pace stutter, slightly, and you heard his small, revealing whines of pleasure as his head was nestled in the nook of your neck, and you knew he was close. 
The thought of him coming in you made you tighten and tense, and he felt it, your back lifting off the desk in an arch. 
“Fuck, how’d you get even tighter?” he said shakily, before sliding out of you so far he almost pulled out completely, then let his cock thrust into you so hard you saw stars dancing across your vision.
You merely mewled back at him in response. 
“Come,” he said breathily, “come all over my thick— ugh, fuuuck, just like that, yes,” his sentence was cut off as you let go, letting the waves of pleasure surge through your body like electricity. 
Your body shook, your knees trembled, and an animalistic whine slipped out of your bruise throat as he thrust into you jerkily. Just as quickly as you camez, he did too, and you felt Jonathan’s load shoot straight up into your worn-out cunt, not impeded by a condom of any sorts. Crane’s head cocked back as he did so, jaw clenching as he released his sweet and sticky liquid deep within you, warm and coating your walls completely.
For a moment, he laid atop of you, and you both kept silent, the office filled with nothing but your breathing and the sweet smell of come. Then, he pulled away, both of you wincing as his cock left you, his come dripping out of your weeping hole onto his office floors. 
He pulled his underwear and pants back on, but revelled in your own crumpled form on his desk, your shirt hiked up, your skirt and panties hanging off your ankles, barely there. It was a shame he couldn’t have explored further up your body, groped those tits he loved seeing bounce during tutoring, but his need to fill your pussy up took precedent.
Jonathan swiped a finger into your cunt, collecting some of your combined liquid, and you flinched at the feeling. Then, he licked at his dirty finger. “Oh, baby,” he heaved, “we taste delectable mixed together.” 
You raised a brow, then weakly lifted yourself off the desk, pulling up your panties and skirt (not without adoring the feeling of Jonathan’s fresh, wet come smearing all over your panties and sensitive cunt) before reaching for his hand. He leaned in towards you, and you lapped up the juice on his finger, grinning up at him.
Jonathan looked completely lost in your performance, brows knitted. “Jesus fucking christ,” he whispered under his breath, “where has a perfect little fucktoy like you been hiding from me?”
“Oh,” you said, nonchalant, “just stalking you.” 
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hoshigray · 9 months
Note
I WANT TOJI TO GUIDE ME (like literally almost teach me) HOW TO GIVE HIM HEAD PLZZZZ
Ohhhh, I don't know how tf I'm gonna write this, but here we go!! Hope I did alright on this one hehehe~ *sweats nervously*
Cw: Toji x fem!reader - oral (m! receiving) - it starts off cute but gets dirty, so minors DNI - reader admiring Toji's dick lol - face+throat-fucking (Toji goes at a reasonable pace) - pet names (angel, baby, cutie, sweetie, mama) - heavily detailed descriptions of a blowjob - praise - Toji laughing at you asking him to help bc what are boyfriends for, but you get a laugh out of it too - some humor. Wc: 2.8k
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"You okay, kid?"
"Hmm?"
"You look lost in thought about somethin'."
"I do?" He lifts a brow and nods at you. "Oh, it's nothing, Toji, honest." The man looks at you for a few seconds as if he doesn't believe your answer, yet he goes back to watching the television, and the big hand on your shoulder brings you closer to him.
It's a lazy Sunday afternoon, and you and Toji are watching your favorite sitcom on the couch in your living room. But the show wasn't capturing your attention like it usually does. Instead, your mind wandered to other matters. Other...explicit matters.
How explicit? The two of you have been together for a long while now, and you can honestly say things have been going great. For him to be your first serious relationship — plus him being older and more mature than you — it's nice to know that things have been going way smoother than you'd thought in the beginning.
Although things may seem fine, something has been clouding your head recently. This is where explicit matters come into the conversation.
Through all this time together, it just occurred to you that you haven't given Toji head. Scratch that: you've NEVER given a blowjob, period.
It's always been the other way around. Not that you're complaining, because your boyfriend seems to enjoy eating you out. And he's actually good at it! Like, really good at it. Just reminiscing all the moments he's had you turn into jelly with just his scarred lips and relentless tongue is enough to make you go dizzy.
It's a pleasure how attentive he is to you during sex. And you appreciate that he cares for you in that regard...yet you can't help but feel like you're not a good partner in bed with your lack of reciprocity.
And it's not like you don't want to give him head. Because trust, you would've done so already! The real problem is that...you don't know how.
You've watched videos and read articles on how to do it, even practicing on a banana (per your friend's advice). Nevertheless, whenever you wish to initiate; or the opportunity arises, you just freeze on the spot and force yourself to forget about it. It's as if researching and amping yourself up is way easier than the execution.
Though, you can't just let your man be the only person doing the work — sex is supposed to be enjoyable for both parties, damn it! And you're gonna push yourself to have his dick in your mouth one way or the fucking other! But......where the hell do I start!!??
You release a defeated sigh, bringing your hand up to massage your forehead from the endless banter in your brain. And Toji watches you from his peripheral, his brows drawing downward at your display of frustration. "Alright," his gruff voice snaps you back to him as he lowers the TV volume. "What's goin' on in your lil' head, baby?"
You blink at his question. "Hmm? What do you—"
"Aht aht, don't do that with me." His jade eyes harden, and you hold back from finishing whatever you were going to say. "Somethin's wrong, so tell me. I'm over here watchin' this stupid show that you dragged me on to, and you're not even paying attention."
"Hey! It is not stupid," you counterargue, and use his comment to dissuade him from the topic. "You were very invested last week when my favorite character punched the guy she likes for stabbing her in the back! So who are you to—"
"Y/n." It didn't work. Your name was thrown at you with such seriousness that there was no use in trying to distract him. "Tell me what's goin' on. If somethin' is bothering you, don't be scared to come to me about it." He says it sternly, yet he's still gentle with his delivery.
"Toji..." You can only call him by name before he leans forward to kiss your forehead, and it almost melts all your worries away.
"Tell me."
The two of you look at each other for mere seconds, you searching for any sign of uncertainty before confessing your thoughts to him. You sigh once more and lean onto Toji, his hand rubbing on your shoulder — a silent gesture of him giving you all the time you need before confiding with him.
You told him, "Don't laugh, okay?"
He scoffs. "Can't make promises I can't keep, kid." His smile manifests when you shake your head at his shenanigans. "I won't laugh, angel."
When he uses the pet name on you, it seals the deal. It's now or never.
"I was just thinking that...I might need your help with something."
A brow is lifted. "With what?"
"Umm, it's..." Your fingers find each other to fiddle with to keep you busy from the awkward tension. "It's for......y-you know—"
"I don't know."
"I-ahem-I want," you can only gulp to ease the uncomfortable bob in your throat. ".........Iwannagiveyouablowjob."
No words. No movements. Nothing. Only the noise from the TV gives a sense of life to the silence following your confession. Even the big hand on your shoulder chose to remain completely still. And you can feel the slight quiver of your lips start to come to fruition.
Nothing happens until you feel a jolt on the shoulder you're resting on. Your face blooms hot, and your lips can't fight the uncomfortable twinge. Oh, this motherfucker is about to laugh.
"Is...Is that—ahem," A tiny gust of wind exits through his nostrils, trying to extinguish the beginning of a chortle. "Is that what was botherin' you this entire time?"
Now your ears get hot, and all you can think about is how you'll dig a nice big hole for yourself to crawl in later. God, why me??!
"W-Well, I mean, I notice how you're always doing it on me," another jolt from the older man. "And...I just feel like I'm not doing my part." He lifts his hand from your shoulder and rests it on his face. Fits of chuckles silently enter the air. "But I don't know how to....do that kinda stuff. So, I was just wondering—" He starts smacking his thigh, and with the twitch of your eyebrow, you've had enough. "Toji, I swear to Christ, if you don't fucking stop—"
And with that, the floodgates opened. The laughs he was doing a terrible job suppressing wheezed out, his hand covering his eyes while the shit-eating grin was present with laughter seeping out his system. You cover your face with your hands, shielding away from the embarrassment and not letting him hear giggles of your own.
"Oh shit, c'mere ya damn cutie." Toji pulls you in with both arms, caging you so he can place a kiss on your temple. "Pfft, kid, I'm not laughing at you. But goddamn, you looked so fuckin' stressed fr' no reason."
"But it is a reason!" You chuckle under your hands, only prompting your boyfriend to laugh harder. Once he calms down, you explain yourself further. "Toji, I'm serious. We've been together for this long, and it's always been me getting eaten out. I just think it's unfair that I get to feel good and you don't, ya know?"
He snickers. "I'm always feelin' good when I fuck the shit out of you."
"You KNOW that's not the same thing!!" Toji barks a laugh from you yelling at him, and you can't take this anymore. Removing yourself from him, you get up from the couch before you sink further into the internal pool of regret. "Just forget it. This conversation never happened...I'll just go to sleep." And hopefully, die of suffocation from my pillow.
However, before you could step toward your bedroom, Toji quickly caught your wrist. You reluctantly turn to see him looking at you with a playful smirk and soft hooded emerald eyes. "Not so fast there, sweetie." His hand slides down to fully grasp your hand, engulfing it with his size. "Ya know, you're a real cutie when worryin' about me. But don't go thinking you're not making me feel good, because you do with what you got. I woulda found someone else if you didn't." You briefly glare at him, though you know he has a point.
"Yeah, I know. But I want to do more. You always take good care of me, so...I wanna do the same for you." And Toji knows you're serious about this. It doesn't matter if you can't look directly at him because of your bashfulness; your words are sincere. God, you looked so cute it drove him crazy.
He sighs quietly with a smirk, his thumb making circles on the back of your palm. "Well, if you're really sure about putting y'r mouth on my dick," and before you could fully process his words, the older man spreads his legs for your eyes to observe. And the first thing that corrupts your vision is the outline of his erect cock, the tent prominent through his dark sweatpants. "Looks like ya got yourself a lesson. Up for it?"
You gawk at his erection for three extra seconds before you look at your boyfriend and give him a nod for confirmation. Seems like your plans of suffocation and dying in a hole have been postponed to another day.
Toji grins hard, his teeth peeking through under his scar, and then he points to the floor with his chin. As instructed, you kneel between his legs.
He pulls down the waistband of his sweatpants, freeing his cock from the clothed prison for you. And you're in awe with the sight before you. Of course, you've known his girth to be immense. You've had the damn thing inside you, for God's sake. But now, seeing his length so close, it's hard to believe you had him before. You can take note of every dent and vein of his shaft, how they structure all the way down to the base, and the pinkish-red color of the tip. It all overwhelms you and makes you second-guess what you're about to do...and the throbbing sensation down south flourishes.
"Like what ya see down there, angel?" The heat on your face worsens when you glance up and see Toji sneering down at you, and a hand comes down to massage your cheeks. "Try lickin' it first."
You gulp before following his suggestion, opening your mouth for your tongue to flick on the frenulum of his cock. You can hear him moan from the action, so you proceed and lap around the head of his cock until you feel adventurous enough to take his glans in your mouth. Toji groans from the wet walls of your mouth, and your teeth brushing against his glans makes his body jerk. "Hmmm, be careful with y'r teeth, baby. Relax that jaw and puff those cheeks a bit fr' me."
His comments are taken wholeheartedly, making sure everything goes right for him. Your cheeks go hollow for you to suck his cockhead and take in a few more of his length, his hums of pleasure egging you on. It goes well until the tip hits your uvula, resulting in your gag reflex. And Toji is quick to gently pull you from him, your saliva coating his dick.
"Woah there, sweetie. Don't forget to breathe." He coaxes while you cough. Your eyes start to water as you gasp for air to even your breathing. "We can stop now, don't want you chokin' on— Aisssh!!."
He's unable to finish his sentence when your hand strokes his cock, paired with kisses to the underside of his shaft. "No, I can keep going." You look at him with half-lidded eyes, having the man twinge his lips upward.
"Alright, then we're gonna go slow, okay? No rush." He aligns his cock to your lips, waiting for re-entry. "I'll push, and you breathe."
You give him a nod to signal you're ready, and your mouth agape to take in his returning limb. Toji brings your head in while you remind yourself to breathe, but your body jolts when you feel the tip come almost close to your uvula again. "Relax, mama, relax. Keep taking deep breaths fr' me." He coos at you, and you do as he says. Breathe in, breathe out. Once you slowly move, Toji aids you by gently pushing the back of your head toward him. And a wave of astonishment and relief hits you when you manage to have his dick hit the back of your throat.
"There ya go, cutie." He smirks at you, aware of your tiny display of giddiness. "Now, try goin' at your own pace."
With a few bobs up and down, slowly but surely, you get used to having Toji's cock in your oral cavity, going at your own tempo and enjoying yourself with this. Your movements are filled with confidence, and you whimper every time you try to go as far as you can but not too crazy.
And Toji loves every second of it. Your moans vibrate the walls around his cock, and it turns him on even more when he peers down to see you suck on him so deliciously. Spit covers your lips the more you take him in your mouth, and he groans when he feels your hands stroking him and kneading his balls (something you've learned to do from the articles you've read). "So good...Hmmph! So fucking good..." It's been a long time since Toji's been given a blowjob, and it feels so good to have you — his sweet thing — do it for him.
But then a thought pops into his mind, and the pleasure in his body churns into a different path of want and need. "Sweetie." Your eyes flutter up at him when he calls you, stopping midway through. "Wanna go a lil' further than this?" It takes a moment for you to register, but you give a curt nod with a hum on his dick, which he can only assume is a "yes."
"I'm gonna stand up, okay? So keep taking deep breaths and follow my lead." You don't answer, only gaze at him as you mentally prepare yourself. Toji rests a hand at the rear of your head as he gets up from the couch, keeping you still on his cock in hopes you don't choke. Now he's standing upright, and his sweatpants slide down to his sturdy thighs. He places both his hands on each side of your head. "I'm gonna start moving slowly, 'kay baby?"
And so he does, unhurriedly pushing his shaft into you, and your hands find purchase on his thighs as he does so. His dick that once stopped at the back of your throat eventually finds its way deeper within, and you're senses are clouded with his smell when your nose and mouth meet his pelvis. It all feels so overwhelming that tears start to form.
Toji lets you adjust to all of him for a while, grinding his hips on your lips to fully accommodate his whole girth, prompting more muffled mewls from you. He ruts his hips at your face when he notes your steady breathing. Gradually, every inch of his cock sinks into your mouth. Your head starts to pound as you enter a haze.
The pace of his thrusts eventually goes faster and faster by the minute, and the tears finally come down with every jab to your throat. Saliva runs down your chin with the smack of his balls, the head bullying your insides with the erratic rhythm. Your nails form scratch marks on his thighs from all the stimulation you're going through, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't feel so fucking good. Having your boyfriend's pelvis smack on your face on par with the sounds of you sucking him off felt like fire to your eardrums. So hot but so electrifying the more you indulge yourself.
As for the older man fucking the hell out of your face? Oh, how he missed this. It's been so long since he stuck his dick on such a pretty mouth. And your throat's tight, velvety walls have him rutting for more. He knew this would make his thirst return, and now he was sure an addiction would form from this. But right now, he can feel the surge of his orgasm arise, and his brows crease with a guttural groan as he thrusts into your face with harsh motions.
"Shit, ahhhhh shit, shit," It's so close, almost there. "Gonna cum, mama, gonna—Mmmm! Haaah, oh fuck, oh fuckin' Christ!" Through his moans of pleasure, Toji releases his load down your throat. And you're in no other position than to just take it, whimpering blissfully onto his length as he gives you a few more ruts to your face.
When he's done experiencing his ecstatic high, the older man withdraws himself from you. Your throat and mouth become empty except for his essence that you swallow. Strands of spit and come connect your wet face to him for a crude yet intimate moment before they break out.
He pulls up his sweatpants and drops down to wipe your pretty face with his hand. "So? Was I a good teacher?"
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suzukiblu · 3 months
Text
Hey kids, I've got some more "Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!" behind this here read-more. You know, if that's a thing you're into. 👀
“I don’t know what names are good,” Superboy says finally, his voice stiff. “Or sound good. I never even heard music before Kid Flash was–I just don’t know what sounds are good. Or whatever.” 
“It doesn’t matter if it’s ‘good’,” Billy says, wondering why Superboy cares so much about his name “sounding” good and also why Cadmus is apparently the worst. They never even played music for him? What, at all? He makes an immediate mental note to figure out how to set up the wireless speakers Batman had delivered and, like, Spotify or something. “You just have to like it.” 
“Oh,” Superboy says, just barely frowning again. “Are you . . . sure?” 
“Yeah,” Billy says firmly. “I’m definitely sure.” 
“Oh,” Superboy says again, then looks down at his feet. Billy feels bad for him and is going to set up like, a million different playlists the first chance he gets. Just like a lot of different stuff, so Superboy can figure out what he likes.
“Do you still want suggestions?” he asks. “I promise I won’t pick anything that sounds bad.” 
“. . . fine,” Superboy says, still looking at his feet. It’s not a resounding “yes” or anything, but it’s no a “no”, Billy’s pretty sure, and he does want to help Superboy pick a good name, so . . . it’s probably okay to try again, he thinks. 
“Okay,” he says, trying to think of something really good and not just random stuff this time. Like–names are important, and Superboy obviously cares about what other people are gonna think of what he picks, so . . . 
Superboy keeps not looking at him. Billy tries not to worry about it. Maybe Superboy just doesn’t like looking at people at all. He didn’t make eye contact with Kid Flash’s parents while they were here either, and barely even with Kid Flash. Which makes sense, he guesses, because why would someone used to telepathic communication really feel a need to look at anyone’s face? Superboy probably doesn’t have the . . . instinct, or whatever. 
Well, it’s fine if he doesn’t, Billy figures. Either he’ll learn it or he’ll just not like it either way, and neither of those options are a big deal or anything. The name thing and coming up with rules and stuff and helping Superboy feel comfortable are way more important right now. 
"Um . . . actually, my mom's name was Marilyn," Billy suggests a little shyly as an old idea occurs to him. It’s been a while since he really thought about it, honestly, but . . . "So you could be 'Lynn', maybe? If that's not too weird? I used to think that if I ever had a kid I'd name them after my mom, 'cuz my dad's name was Clarence and that's pretty old-fashioned, though I guess if you were a girl you could've just been 'Claire', so . . . well, maybe Clarence could be your middle name, actually? If you like it, I mean." 
Superboy . . . pauses. Frowns at the floor. 
"Why would you name me that?" he asks skeptically. "You might have an actual kid someday and want to use it for them." 
"I have an actual kid right now," Billy says reasonably. "Why wouldn't I use it for you?" 
Superboy sits very, very still, and doesn't say anything. Billy starts worrying that maybe that was weird or too much and maybe he's already the worst dad ever and maybe now Superboy thinks he's weird and too much and the worst dad ever and is just gonna get up and go straight back to Kid Flash's house and never even talk to him again or–
"I count as an actual kid to you?" Superboy asks, his voice completely neutral. 
Oh, Billy realizes. 
Man, he's dumb sometimes. 
"Yeah," he says firmly. "You definitely count." 
". . . okay," Superboy says, looking at the wall. "'Lynn' works." 
"Awesome," Billy says, smiling at him as wide as he thinks he can get away with. He doesn't want to look fake or like he's trying too hard or to be overwhelming or anything like that. He just wants to make it obvious that he's happy right now. "Nice to meet you, Lynn Clarence Batson." 
"Nice to meet you too," Superboy says–Lynn says–glancing sidelong at him just a little bit hesitantly. "Um . . . Dad." 
Billy grins. 
Okay. Not the worst dad ever after all, then.
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cxlamarisalxmi · 9 months
Text
Being Miguel’s daughter and hosting Venom [2]
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[Platonic One-Shot]
c/w: fighting, depictions of violence and gore, angst, female pronouns (she/her), feminine gendered terms used to describe reader, Venom is a big softie, only for you though 🤭
a/n: this is marked as part two because the first one shot was the first part, the drabble was more of an introduction to the idea 😭 I understand there might be some confusion about how these parts are set up but yeah the drabble was intended to introduce the idea more than it was meant to be an actual part of the series— like an extended epigraph… sort of
It was raining the day your father had decided to return to your dimension— the dark and gloomy rain clouds above thick and heavy as they devoured the sky.
With them they brought raindrops thick and heavy in density that were spat out in a torrential downpour. Falling in copious and rapid quantities.
You had been sitting perched on the corner of a building’s roof, observant and watchful as you patrolled the streets from your perch.
The darkness that had followed the overcast night sky left the street lamps and starkly bright city lights bright and prominent in their glow. And your sensitive and finely tuned auditory perception picked up on the sounds of tires driving through rainwater on the pavement. The sound of particularly nocturnal people walking, bustling and moving about— the way their shoe soles stepped on the soaked through concrete of the sidewalk, some splashing as they came across puddles in the divets of the ground.
Everything that involved your senses and being aware of the world around you sharpened dramatically, now keen on focusing on the world around you. Listening starkly for any kind of traumatic event occurring.
“I like the rain.”
“Me too.”
“The atmosphere is relaxing. We feel at peace.”
You couldn’t help but agree, the weather more than accommodating in the sense your mood had improved drastically.
It had been two weeks since your father had made his appearance, and since then you had been tightly wound and more than a little hurt at his abrupt intrusion. Even more hurt at the way he had just left without so much as an ounce of effort in trying to get you to talk to him.
He had called your name, and he did speak to you— that was something you could acknowledge, but the fact he hadn’t bothered trying beyond that spoke a lot about what your relationship had come to. What it still was.
He didn’t care about you, he never had and the encounter from a little less than half a month ago gave you the impression that he never would.
A small part of you could admit that you had hoped maybe he would come after you, chase you down, take you into his arms and hold you tenderly. Lovingly.
An even larger part overwhelmed that feeling with a cold and bitter indifference that made you more angry than sad. Sparked to life when he left you behind in a home you didn’t know, with people you didn’t trust— and festered to much more significant levels as the years continued to pass with not a single word from him.
You shouldn’t have expected him to make an effort to fix your relationship, and you hated that you were so bothered that he hadn’t tried at all. You should’ve known that he hadn’t ever intended to be involved with you at all. And you should’ve just accepted that your relationship was beyond fixing— and there was no point in trying to repair something that had died a long time ago. Irreparable— damaged and broken.
And whilst anger and hate had spread and taken over most of your heart and soul, there was still a small part inside that was more hurt than anything.
That small child inside that had depended on her father more than ever in the wake of her mother’s death. A little girl that had quickly learned he wasn’t dependable, she couldn’t count on him at all. And she was quick to learn that there wasn’t anyone who had her back, was on her side. It developed into her trusting absolutely no one— “the only one I can really trust.. is me.”
“[Y/Name]? Are you okay?”
“Yes,” you murmured quiet and tame as you continued to watch over the city. The darkness and ache that had consumed your heart so very deeply at the remembrance of your father had dissipated when your friend had spoken to you. “I’m fine V.”
“Was it about him?”
You didn’t respond and they had expected that you wouldn’t, and didn’t say much after that. And you appreciated their understanding that you didn’t want to talk about them.
There was a moment of tranquility, peace in the loud bustle of your city as the rain continued to fall. But then your senses tingled as the familiar sound of a portal spinning open erupted behind you. There wasn’t a moment of stillness that you allowed before you were spitting webs at the wall behind the portal.
Miguel walked through the portal a moment later, it closed a second after and then you were launching yourself at him.
He may have not had the tingle at the expense he wasn’t even really changed like you had been. He hadn’t been bitten but had his genetic code changed, and his abilities came from a vial of liquid he injected directly into his bloodstream to keep his powers sharp and potent.
So, whilst he didn’t have the spider senses that tingled anytime danger was nearby, his natural instincts had been sharpened finely. Thus, he was able to bring up his arms as you drop kicked him into the wall you had slung your webs at.
Even though he was blocking his face protectively you had put enough strength behind the kick to hurt him, and he grunted as your kick connected sending him flying back.
[Y/Name] jumped to meet him against the brick wall and grabbed him by the throat, tightening her clawed fingers around his neck before she was pulling him from the wall and throwing him off the building to the street below.
The previous feeling of peace and content that had warmed her chest and blood had diminished, and was now replaced with thorough rage. Hot and ferocious.
[Y/Name] had sworn to Venom that she absolutely would resort to murder if her father ever returned to her universe, and here he was. So the alien didn’t falter nor make an effort to halt the anger that was slowly but surely filling his host’s body.
Another portal opened up behind her and she felt an itch of annoyance as she felt the familiar presence that made her senses tingle. Jessica Drew.
A snarl tugged at her features as she curled her lip and looked over her shoulder, a ferocious glare fierce and angry in her bright eyes.
“Venom.”
“Of course.”
Jessica stared as a thick, black matter pooled from her back and slid across her lean and muscular frame. The alien-like viscous oil gliding across every plane of her frame, concealing her entire white and blue suit in a tightened black version of it instead.
“[Y/Name],” Jessica began soft and quiet— an attempt to somehow quell the furious fire of rage she could feel hot and angry from where she stood several feet behind the young teenager. “I know what you must be feeling—”
“You don’t know shit.”
“You want to kill him. And I can’t let you do tha—”
Her sentence was cut short when she was suddenly thrown backwards, her senses had tingled but not nearly quick enough. And she had been sent backwards to the brick wall in consequence, she gaped at the O’hara stood in front of her on the edge of the roof.
She had turned to face Jessica with her back, and the blackened webbing surrounding her body seemed to pulse and tightened around her body. Every time she squirmed attempting to loosen them, cut them or escape they would just tighten. She resorted to calling out to [Y/Name] instead—
“Spider-Woman doesn’t kill people!”
[Y/Name] willed her mask to peel away, the small and thin tendrils crawling up her neck and hugging her forehead only made the harsh glare she threw at Jessica over her shoulder much darker. The snarl she gave baring abnormally sharp canines seemed to make her even more intimidating— it made Jessica uncomfortable how a simple look made a chill rake down her back.
“You’re right. But we do.”
And she shivered again at the alien voice that rumbled from the young adult’s chest. The words she spoke only succeeding in making her all the more uncomfortable and frightened. The tone she spoke in was deep and ferociously monstrous. And Jessica stared as the O’hara glared back for a single second before she jumped disappearing over the side of the roof.
[Y/Name] landed on the sidewalk paved along the side of the asphalt road, she jumped forward flipping out of the way as her father shot a web at the spot she occupied previously.
But he had jumped to meet her midair and they grappled as they fell back to the road, she managed to wrangle a hold on the back of his suit and brought forth Venom’s strength to throw him down the road before landing on it herself.
Miguel’s sharpened instincts flared aggressively as his young daughter launched a car at him. He spun around extending his arm forward simultaneously— the long and sharp blade on his forearm cutting the car cleanly in half. But she had been there to surprise him, lunging forward after she had thrown the car knowing he’d cut it in half opening up an ambush as she erupted in between each piece of the vehicle.
He gasped silently in shock at her appearance through the split and grunted when her punch connected to his face. Enough strength from her abilities coupled with Venom to send him flying back. And he flipped midair to land on his feet several feet down the street, he dug the blades on his forearms into the pavement to halt his movement as he looked up.
“I suffered! Alone! For twenty years, because of your cowardice!” [Y/Name] shouted as she stormed down the street, the mask Venom provided peeling back to reveal a ferocious snarl tugging her lips back and baring abnormally sharper canines.
“Protecting the security of the multiverse is not cowardly!”
“You knew invading another universe at the expense of your variant’s death was wrong! You knew your presence could collapse the very fabrics of a dimension! You always knew!” She roared in exclamation to his rather weak defense, having stopped just a few feet in front of him to properly put her feelings forward. Give him everything she had bottled up inside that had erupted suddenly since his abrupt appearance in her dimension two weeks ago.
Miguel just stood there, he swallowed thickly at her statement as he held eye contact with her. There wasn’t any indication he was intimidated by her on his face, his expression blank and guarded with slanted brows and narrowed eyes. But internally he was dreading the fight that would no doubt occur, she was anomoly after all.
“But— when she told you she was pregnant, when she told you she was excited to start your family.. what did you do? What did you do? You. Ran!”
“She was never meant to bear children! Never meant to give birth to you— that was not my fault!”
The audacity he had to ruin her life and not even acknowledge it only made [Y/Name] all the more furious, her blood boiling beneath her skin as she tightened her vicious snarl. “Not your fault?!”
[Y/Name] advanced forward, she reached to her left— her muscular forearm flexing beneath the deep black Venom suit as she gripped the side of another car and effortlessly lifted it throwing it at him.
He jumped to the side to dodge but she was there to meet him once again, having leapt from her spot on the street to put her knee in his face. He couldn’t bring his arms up quick enough to block it this time, and she forced him backwards when she utilized Venom’s alien strength to really hurt him.
Miguel grunted as her strike connected and he was thrown into the side of the building off to the side. She followed right behind him tearing her arm back and throwing it forward the second she was close enough. The hit had enough power and strength in it to send him right through the brick wall and into the empty warehouse within.
[Y/Name] landed several feet away from the form of her father on the ground, he was slow to get back to his feet but once he had he turned to face her. And she could tear his throat out at the scowl carved into his features, the conversation that followed only making her all the more infuriated.
“I’m not here for any other reason than to capture the anomaly in your dimension.” He says, a still blank and guarded look on his face. One that his young daughter matched only to a degree that looked more like she was enraged rather than unbothered.
“There’s no anomaly here, Venom and I would’ve picked up it’s unnatural scent immediately.” She reasoned.
“You wouldn’t know of it’s presence. Because it’s you.”
“What?”
“You are an anomaly, you were never meant to be born.. never meant to be bitten… never meant to host Venom. You don’t belong. You need to be contained.”
[Y/Name] froze, Venom inside stilling too as he and herself processed the words that had just fell from her father’s mouth. All was quiet for but a moment—
“You…”
Miguel watched as a dark look overtook her features, from enraged previously to downright hostile as her eyes darkened to an unseen degree. He felt a shiver of fear and intimidation shuck down his back in a brief burst.
“You bastard.”
The snarled words growled from her throat sent another ripple down his spine. And he swallowed thickly as the deep black viscous matter of Venom returned, and then she bore the same appearance as before.
The same lean and muscular frame but now entirely black with a white spider insignia, her mask’s eyes now more monstrous-like as opposed to the regular diamond shape as most spider people.
“Fine.”
[Y/Name] Venom snarled ferociously, Miguel watched as the alien bulked up his daughter. Not so much so that it wasn’t proportionate but enough to have him breathe out a brief exhale of uncertainty and anxiety.
His daughter had become powerful in his absence, and he had caused the black hatred to plague her heart. The fact she only looked at him with hate and a fiery light of murder and bloodthirsty rage was his fault and his fault alone. He had no one to blame but himself.
So, he really had no one to blame for this fight that would occur one way or another. He wasn’t sure he could beat her, and for the first time in a long while he felt a surge of anxiousness brew to life in his stomach. His heartbeat slightly erratic at the new feeling of diminished confidence in his chest.
He knew this would be hard, he knew he was walking into this fight with a significant power difference, and he knew for damn sure he wasn’t certain he’d keep his head. And Miguel had no one to blame for it—
But himself.
a/n: started writing out requests so expect to see those soon but don’t get too excited as I can’t promise when exactly they’ll be finished and posted, my classes are kicking my ass and my job fucking sucks so.. bear with me please and I hope you enjoyed!
Taglist: @violilaqrs @christinesdemoness1958 @erensbbg @nickey-diano @gamersansblog @ayyybee @raweggeater @shrekstoesblog @azzy-ozborn @nda-approval @9kaaulitz @jazjelspen @myconglomerateromance @sweetheartlizzie07 @nyx-does-stuff @krazy-kattzz @sparklyphantom @loser-alert @bath1lda
Sorry if I missed you on the taglist!
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softest-punk · 7 months
Text
@helloparzival13, monsterfucker Hob 4 u 💜 (no actual monster fucking but the spirit is all there)
---
“I have been having the weirdest nightmares of late,” Hob says, toying with the condensation on his pint glass. “This isn’t a complaint, by the way. I know I’m having them for a reason. They’re masterfully done, actually.”
“Thank you,” Dream says. “Do you know the reason?”
Hob raises an eyebrow. “Do you?”
“I am not, as a rule, privy to your dreams. Unless something went catastrophically wrong, I would not intrude on your privacy. Not consciously, in any case. I do of course contain them.”
Hob makes the same face he always makes when Dream says something that reminds him of his inhumanity. He is yet to determine what that face means.
“I think they’re about… fear of inadequacy,” Hob says. “Of, umm. Being a disappointment.”
Dream raises an eyebrow. He would not have listed this amongst Hob’s likely fears, had he been pressed to name them. But then he is no longer obliged to fear death, and that is the sort of thing that warps the mind. Dream is satisfied he was right all those years ago: no sensible creature would choose this. Hob, if he ever was sensible, has long been broken of it.
“Would you like to tell me about them?” Dream asks.
“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble,” Hob says.
He insists on thinking of Dream’s creations as people. But then he insists on thinking of Dream as a person, so this is perhaps no great surprise.
“You have my word that no retribution will occur. Tell me,” he insists, curious now. He has wanted to look in on Hob’s dreams, of late. Curious about his friend, about a man he can now freely admit to be his friend, who he can keep. He has wanted more of Hob.
“Silly, really,” Hob says. “Just, you know how sometimes you’ll fall in love with people in your dreams, have a whole thing going with them, and then it’s a bit heartbreaking to wake up and discover that they never really existed?”
“I do not dream,” Dream says. “But I am aware of the phenomenon.”
“Right, no, of course you don’t,” Hob agrees. “Just, sort’ve a variation on that, I s’pose. Except before I wake up they… change. They’re not what I thought. And then I’m stuck standing there awkwardly apologising that they’re not my type. Mortifying, since I’m the one making the move in the first place. Makes me feel awful.”
Dream hums. “Surely this is about the inadequacy of others?”
Hob shrugs. “I mean, you’re the expert, so if you say so I’ll just believe you. But I still think it’s about me. About, umm. Trying to see it from the other perspective. It’s not easy to reject someone, especially if they’ve done nothing wrong except, y’know, not be quite what you’re looking for.”
“And you have a romantic pursuit in mind, where you are uncertain your suit would be welcome?”
Hob smiles wryly. “Got it in one,” he says, sipping his pint.
“I am not in a position to give romantic advice,” Dream says. “But I have heard humans offer some general advice you might appreciate.”
“Oh?” Hob asks.
“Mm,” Dream hums, and has to force himself not to smile in advance of what he means to say next. “You only live once.”
***
Hob’s laughter—long, loud, and repeated sporadically for the remainder of the evening—after Dream’s first attempt at a joke with him still echoes in Dream’s mind long after, as he pretends to work on the steps to the throne. Really, he cannot tear his attention entirely away from Hob.
Or his mystery romantic pursuit.
Purely out of concern for his friend, of course.
Certainly not out of the very human instinct to immediately want something another has.
“My lord?” Lucienne interrupts, although perhaps to interrupt is the wrong verb. It implies that Dream was engaging in an activity other than staring into space.
The hesitance of her tone tugs on Dream’s curiosity.
“Is there a problem?”
“Well…” Lucienne glances off over his shoulder, at the stained glass. “It’s difficult to say, my lord, but because of who it concerns…”
“Who?” Dream asks, already aware of the answer.
“Hob Gadling,” Lucienne, predictably, says.
“What is happening?” Dream asks.
“It’s, umm,” Lucienne wrings her hands. “It’s… the thing is, no one’s complaining, exactly. They’re just… disappointed, I think? His name is on quite a few pairs of lips and… other methods of communication. It seems, he, uh… he’s breaking their hearts, sir.”
Dream blinks.
In the absence of an immediate idea about what to say in response to this, he blinks again.
“Breaking their hearts?” he asks after a pause, keeping his cadence slow and even with monumental effort.
“The nightmares,” Lucienne explains. “The rumour is that they go to him as called, but then the dream he’s having isn’t actually a nightmare, exactly, it’s, umm. Somewhat more…”
“Romantic,” Dream fills in for her, recalling what Hob had said earlier.
“Excellent word, we’ll use that one,” Lucienne says. “And he keeps rejecting him. Which they aren’t designed for. It’s breaking their hearts.”
He had assumed, when Hob told him about his dreams, that they were being attended by the appropriate creations. There are things in the dreaming meant for such a need. But Hob was right: they are nightmares.
They are entirely the wrong nightmares, it seems.
This does not perhaps constitute something catastrophically wrong, but it is upsetting his creations, and upsetting his friend, and falls under his purview. It would not be wholly unforgivable, he thinks, to investigate. Especially as it might be the first symptom of a larger problem. Hob would understand.
“I will see to it,” Dream promises, rising.
***
The problem becomes obvious the moment Dream steps into Hob Gadling’s dreamscape—a dark wood, the ground choked with twisted roots, hidden so as to catch unwary feet, the canopy blocking all but the minimum light, and the breeze whispering like the dead through the trees.
It is not the typical setting for a dream of romance.
Aside from that, Hob is being pursued.
Dream watches, unobserved, as one of his creations—snapping maw and vicious claws, single-minded in the hunt, glossy black under the moonlight, limbs too long, eyes flashing red in the scant moonlight, snout twitching as it seeks its quarry—dashes past him, weaving between trees as it chases Hob’s crashing path through the undergrowth.
He moves more calmly through the landscape, catching up to the nightmare as the nightmare catches Hob, pinning him to a tree, sharp teeth close to the delicate flesh of Hob’s neck.
This is where thinks become. Strange.
“Caught me,” Hob says, breathless. Not breathless, Dream thinks, in the way of someone who is exhausted from physical exertion, however.
The nightmare growls.
Hob shivers.
Not. From fear.
Rooted to the spot and unable to look away, Dream senses distantly that he has made an error in coming here.
“What will you do with me?” Hob asks, putting a confident hand on matted fur, stroking with the reverence of…
A lover.
These are the dreams, then. Hob might have been clearer in his description of them.
The nightmare makes a confused sound, but they are curious creatures. He cannot help but give each of them his own curiosity, his own drive to understand.
So when Hob raises a hand to touch its face with utmost gentleness, as though approaching a strange horse, it allows it. Leans into it. Makes, as Hob pets it with his warm, broad, confident hand, a sound of surprised pleasure.
“Gorgeous,” Hob murmurs. “People don’t tell you, do they? Because they’re afraid. But I’m not.”
The nightmare huffs, and nuzzles Hob’s hand, radiating pleasure as Hob murmurs meaningless praises at it, dream-nonsense that nonetheless is clear in its intent.
Its intent, in this case, leaning towards the decidedly carnal. Hob is enacting a seduction on this nightmare. Worse, the nightmare is responding to it.
He ought to intervene, but this in and of itself is… unorthodox, but not truly a problem. It would be. Unseemly. To interfere so directly with the dream of a friend. It is bad enough that he has witnessed it.
And what manner of creature could Hob possibly wish to be in romantic pursuit of to make any of this relevant?
Hob has misunderstood the dreams, he decides. They are about coming to terms with desires he worries are ugly, or monstrous. He has lived long enough, Dream suspects, to have had many of those.
This feels like a perfectly reasonable explanation until Hob draws the nightmare close and brushes a kiss over its mouth, over sharp, flesh-rending teeth. The nightmare makes a nearly pained sound, surging towards Hob’s show of affection, shifting shape into something much more human—a human man, nothing out of the ordinary. A shape Hob could love.
Dream chooses not to consider the implications of a creation of his falling on a scrap of affection like a starved beast.
Hob, meanwhile, sighs and pulls back.
“Not again,” he says, stroking the nightmare’s conventionally handsome cheek. “I’m sorry, I’ve gone and led you on. You’re just… you’re not what I’m looking for.”
Dream feels his nightmare’s disappointment in his own chest. Heartbreak, Lucienne had called it. Yes, for a creature as small as a nightmare, as fragile, this would be enough to break their heart. To be offered such affection, and then have the offer withdrawn.
“Dream?” Hob speaks up, looking directly at him. He had meant to keep his presence outside of Hob’s awareness, but it seems in his distraction over his nightmare’s feelings he has stepped fully into the dreamspace.
The nightmare steps back, and bows. Dream dismisses it kindly, suggesting it seek out Lucienne’s comfort, and then faces his friend.
He might end the dream. He might. But Hob will likely remember this, as one tends to when the lord of dreams makes a personal visit to their sleeping mind.
“I am here to investigate the unhappiness of several creations,” Dream says.
Hob’s face falls.
“See? I told you it’s miserable business. But they keep turning into humans and I don’t want them to be humans. I can’t help it. It’s not…”
“Conscious,” Dream fills in for him. It is not, of course. Hob has no more control over his actions in a dream than any other human.
“It’s not,” Hob says. “I’d never do that if I had control.”
No, of course not. Hob is not a cruel man, certainly not for the sake of cruelty.
“I just… you can have anything you want in your dreams, right? Things you maybe shouldn’t, if you were awake. Without being funny, I could have any number of humans. Not every day you get the opportunity with something… properly dangerous, is it?”
Dream ought to leave. A conscious Hob would not tell him these things.
“A monster,” he says, instead of leaving.
“They’re not monsters. Nothing that wants to be loved like that could be a monster. But they could hurt me and they choose not to because they like me. And I want to love them. They need to be loved so badly. You need to be loved so badly and you could’ve obliterated me at any point and you never did, even when I upset you, because you like me. You’re dangerous. But you like me. And you need someone to love you. And I want to.”
Dream swallows.
He had not, at any point, considered that the person Hob might worry about disappointing, of whose rejection he was afraid, could be him.
“This is not a conversation for dreams,” he says at length, as Hob looks at him, expectant. Coiled, tense, aware he has said something unwise and waiting for consequences to follow.
Even in the middle of the night, it seems a kindness to wake him.
***
Hob’s bedroom is primarily dark, and secondarily dominated by the bed itself, with little room around the edges to move. Dream hovers, therefore, mere inches from Hob’s bedside as he wakes, blinking and groaning, pulled from a dream and struggling to rouse.
He yelps, when he spots Dream, and grabs for a dagger which is not actually present under his pillow before recognsing him.
“Hello,” he says, catching his breath, heartbeat rabbit-quick but beginning to slow. “Umm. Problem? Were you just…?”
His voice is thick with sleep, low and rough, and Dream is so preoccupied with this detail that it takes him a moment to realise Hob’s distress.
“Fuck,” he says under his breath. “Listen, you can’t hold things I say in dreams against me, that’s hardly fair. And you said—”
“That I was not in the habit of looking in on your dreams, yes,” Dream agrees. “And I am not. But you have left a string of disappointed nightmares in your wake.”
“Oh,” Hob says. “See? I did say.”
“You did,” Dream says, finally absorbing all Hob had said, and coming to a conclusion.
He reaches out, then, towards Hob’s face, and places the needle-pointed tips of glossy black claws against his cheek.
Hob’s breath hitches. He stills, and glances up at Dream’s face. It is impossible for Dream to know, precisely, what he sees there, but he suspects it is a long way from human. It feels a long way from human, teeth too sharp, eyes too fathomless, tongue too long.
Hob swallows. After a heartbeat more, he reaches out in turn, tentative. Dream turns his face eagerly into Hob’s palm, kissing the heel of his hand, rumbling deep in his chest.
In the dark, in Hob’s bedroom, he is a nightmare, climbing onto the bed with him, holding him in place, trapping him there. Inescapable as he would be in Hob’s mind.
Hob’s heartbeat picks up again, his eyes wide and lips parted as he pants for breath.
“Umm,” he says, wetting his lips. “If I kiss you. Are you going to turn back into an inoffensively pretty boy?”
Dream shows Hob his teeth.
“Perhaps you ought to kiss me,” he says. “And find out.”
709 notes · View notes
multiland · 11 months
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summary: They say people turn into their most vulnerable selves in the middle of the night, can you trust yourself at 3 a.m. to keep hiding the crush you've been harboring on your friend?
pairing: Joshua x female reader (ft. best friend Jeonghan and the rest of svt)
genre: friends to lovers, fluff, smut.
warnings: kissing, tension, fingering, a bit of oral (m), mutual pining, cursing, mentions of alcohol, Joshua being oblivious, soft dom Joshua, body worshipping, dirty talk, unprotected sex. Shua is the sweetest. This was an old fic I wrote for another group, so I decided to take it and edit it enough to use it again.
please leave some feedback!! it motivates me a lot🩷
word count: 12k
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You’ve heard a lot of good things about turning twenty-seven, and despite you not being the biggest fan of celebrating your birthdays, you weren’t surprised the moment your group of friends decided to book a trip to celebrate properly.
Consisting of mostly males, you’re used to them taking every opportunity to drink and throw parties. However, since spending time with them is fun and makes you happy, you would never actually complain.
"Do you think it's gonna be like, really cold out there?" That's the main question spinning around your head as you stare at your open closet, still debating on which pieces of clothing are the ones that should be packed.
Jeonghan, who's sprawled on your bed with his back against the headboard as he scrolls through social media, hums, not looking up.
He’s been your best friend since high school. You had heard about him back then due to his prince-like appearance, and him unsurprisingly having every single girl wrapped around his finger. Funny enough, and seemingly accustomed to the attention, he never really batted an eye at any of them. Despite being aware of his almost-unrealistic beauty, you didn’t really gave much thought to anything related to him besides whatever you’d hear the girls fussing about across the corridors. 
But then, on a good day, you found each other rolling your eyes at the same girl’s annoying tone of voice, the two of you realized and even chuckled. It was an instant click and you’ve been inseparable since then. 
A perfect balance between being different but so similar at the same time. You truly didn’t believe in soulmates, but turns out you can find one in the shape of a friend.
It had never occurred to you, however, that befriending the prince of school would instantly make you part of a much bigger group of, admittedly, really good-looking guys and girls when you started college.
That’s what brings you here.
"What do you think, Sherlock?" He quirks a brow, as he glances up in your direction. "We're going to the mountains, there's no way it's gonna be hot up there unless it’s like, a volcano."
An annoyed sigh falls past your lips as you roll your eyes at his antics, grabbing different styles of sweaters, hoodies, jackets, and all that could be of use in such weather. Turning around, you carefully fold your clothes and place them into the opened suitcase at the edge of the bed.
"Please remind me. Why were we going to the mountains instead of the beach, again?" 
Jeonghan's lips curl up in a soft smirk, locking his phone and tossing it to the side before his eyes land on yours.
"Because going to the beach is too basic. We always go to the beach."
"So all of you just decided to go on a trip to the cold ass mountains and rent wooden cabins in the middle of April in the name of… What? Eccentricity?" You narrow your eyes. "Yeah. Sounds like something my group of friends would do."
The man chuckles.
"Don't be a brat. You didn't have to pay for anything, this is your birthday gift from us, and all you have to do is look pretty and try to get your grumpy ass to have fun." 
You fold your arms over your chest, raising a brow at his words.
"Yeah, sounds like my dream holiday having to babysit drunk adults."
He clicks his tongue, shaking his head.
"Look, complain all you want once we’re back. Let’s not ruin the mood." He insists. "Besides, since it's your birthday, you can avoid all kinds of responsibilities. But you don't tell them I told you that or i’ll make sure to bring Soonyoung to your bed when he’s drunk and crying."
Panic instantly crosses your features.
“My lips are totally sealed.” It's a promise, gesturing to zip them with your fingers.
Plopping yourself down onto the mattress, you lay your head on Jeonghan’s lap. His slender fingers immediately fly to thread in your hair, gentle scraps on your scalp relaxing your body.
"Then, does that mean you're gonna take care of them for me?" You ask, looking up at his face in hope, trying your best puppy eyes just to guilt trip him.
Jeonghan scoffs.
"Me? No way. I did it once and ended up having both Seokmin and Soonyoung sneaking into my bed. Soonyoung kept crying and Seokmin just laughed at him. They were so loud I had to leave the room. Not to mention I had to wash the damn sheets cause one of them vomited in the middle of the night."
Grimacing at the thought, you really try not to laugh at the same time.
“Sounds like a ride.” You tease. "What about Seungkwan?"
Dark eyes glare down at you.
"He was sleeping peacefully in his bed."
"Why didn't one of them go to his bed?"
Sighing, he says: "I didn’t let them move. Having these two drunk is one thing, having these two drunk and Seungkwan cursing at the top of his lungs at three in the morning is something entirely different. We’ve had complaints from the neighbors."
"Yeah… I wouldn’t risk it, either."
Then, he chuckles.
"The best option is leaving them to either Cheol or Minghao." You nod in agreement, “Preferably Cheol. Hao doesn’t have that much patience after a while.”
Right after, his phone goes off and he checks the incoming message. "Well, here we go again." He comments, taking a deep breath before pressing the bridge of his nose between his fingers.
Your eyes open, brows knitting together as you sit up.
"What's up?"
"Soonyoung was betting with Seokmin and got his head stuck somewhere around the park fence." He explains, "Gotta go. Sorry."
He stands up, and you can do nothing but smile sympathetically at him.
"Good luck with that." With the same smile, you pat his arm. He steps forward and flicks on your forehead with his fingers, before walking to the door. You groan in response, rubbing the sore area.
"Don't forget the vans will be here at 7 a.m."
Right. You need to act like an early bird, and your first reaction to the reminder is a groan.
"How many times do I have to say I’m not a morning person?"
“The same amount of times I have to tell Soonyoung to keep his head out of any kind of holes.” He adds, waving one last time before finally exiting your room.
As soon as he leaves, you let out a big sigh. Truthfully, you’re intrigued by how this trip is going to be, and you kinda know for sure sleeping’s gonna be a challenge.
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The sound of your alarm pulls you out of the slumber you worked so hard to get in. Groaning, you stretch out your arm to stop the torture from continuing any further. Your lids don’t seem to cooperate, too tired and heavy to open and making you question if you really need to go on that trip to begin with. You could just call them and say you woke up feeling ill and you can’t leave the house while being sick, right?
As if on cue, you instantly have Jeonghan’s voice resonating in your head, telling you all the possible consequences of you bailing everyone when everything’s ready. All the ways he would blackmail you into getting up, in short.
So after taking a deep breath and stretching your limbs once again, you pull the duvet off of you and stand up, dragging your feet sleepily towards the bathroom to take a shower and get as ready as you can actually be.
Admittedly, you took longer than you should have thanks to all the times you dozed off in the shower, and that’s exactly what’s making you rush as your phone keeps buzzing incessantly against the marbled sink, with incoming calls from your best friend.
You can’t even make yourself look presentable at this point, messily throwing your clothes on and grabbing your luggage to drag downstairs, your hair still dripping wet.
“I’m coming, I’m coming!” You exclaim, picking up one of his calls, and then hanging up before you could even get a response from the other side of the line.
Turning the lights off, you open the front door and place the luggage down to close the entrance, trying to catch your breath, cause for fuck’s sake, you’re still sleepy, it’s early in the morning and you already not only had to run downstairs, but also carry such a heavy suitcase on your own…Cause if you’re being honest, you probably packed more than what you needed for a weekend-long trip.
The sound of the van’s door sliding open can be heard from behind, as you lock the door. The wet droplets falling from your hair dampen your shirt and make you shiver. However, nothing prepares your body for the reaction it gets as soon as you turn around and see him.
Standing there, perfect silky hair dangling over his eyes and curling up at the nape of his neck. Sparkly round orbits narrowed in a try to protect themselves from the inclement rays of sunshine, and pretty lips forming the sweetest tight-lipped smile you could’ve dreamed to have seen this early in the morning. Your heart skips a bit, and all the sleepiness washes away; all of this before you can even stop yourself from returning the gesture.
Joshua Hong. You met him one of those times when Jeonghan had dragged you to a small gathering with his friends, then finding him at the nearest convenience store you had from your job.
As soon as you saw him, you were instantly smitten. His doe eyes, cute nose, and sweet voice made the air get stuck in your throat. And as if being so incredibly pretty-faced wasn’t enough, there’s the plus of such a warm personality.
What at first started off as simple acquaitances with friends in common, slowly blossomed into a friendship. Joshua was often who spent time with you at parties, whenever Jeonghan was busy either playing alcohol games, or arguing over something random with someone else. He was also who you found at the book store in search of some kind of book so you could learn how to bake cupcakes in your sugar craving nights. He is, also, someone you feel totally comfortable with, someone selfless who never judges anyone. Someone with a view of the world in a positive light, a free spirit that only encourages you to be true to yourself and accept others as they are. 
All the times you’ve felt out of place, or simply aren’t in the mood to do anything at all, there he is to sit with you and listen to all your rants with that sweet smile adorning his face, just as if you were telling him the most interesting of stories.
He’s a music enthusiast. Likes to play guitar and morning walks to clear his mind. Such sunchild like him was able to charm a moonchild like you. So different, but so similar at the same time.
Despite that, the two of you ended up having more things in common than you could’ve expected. None of you like confrontation, and often prefer spontaneity. Both enjoy rainy days, and spending time at home in front of a fireplace when winter arrives. He’s a gentleman, never speaks over anyone and rarely raises his voice. He’s patient, and always makes you walk on the inner side of the sidewalk.
All those little things did nothing but irremediably attract you, feel nothing but admiration towards the way he sees life and empathizes with you or others.
He’s sweet, and fun to be around. With a sweet laugh and authenticity, the way he’s so soft-spoken and the way he never hesitates to offer help with chores, he’s domestic, so down to earth, nothing short of a prince. A good friend, a good listener, and in truth, you could’ve considered him one of your closest friends if it wasn’t for a simple reason… As a best friend, you have Jeonghan for. In his case, you have a big, fat crush on. So, although sharing a lot of time together, you just can’t help the way your heart flutters whenever he’s around. With a friend you share teasing, pranks, messiness… With Joshua, you share peace, comfort.
The already too-long list of traits to make you fall for someone has had his name highlighted for a while, and it seems that he always finds a new way to make you fall even deeper. 
Like that day he sang his favorite song in front of you with his guitar in hand. You knew back then you were done for.
This crush you have on him is something you’ve been harboring, keeping to yourself as a precious secret, cause yeah, he’s your friend, but also if the way you look at him when he’s not even doing anything doesn’t give you away, then maybe everyone else is just oblivious.
Joshua makes his way over to you and your heart races. God, he looks so good and you look like you just rolled off your bed and fell into a puddle.
He smiles again and leans down to pick your suitcase, looking into your eyes as soon as he stands up back straight.
“Good morning. How are you feeling?”
“Morning, Shua. I’m doing good, what about you?” Greet him back, a simple task it should be. But your voice betrays you and comes out in almost a whisper. Since you can't make it obvious, you gnaw at your lower lip in embarrassment. However, Joshua being Joshua, pays no mind.
“I’m great, thank you. Let me help you with this.”
And they say chivalry is dead. Your lips form a smile, following behind him on the way to the van.
“Thank you.” You say softly, stopping behind him as he places your luggage somewhere with the rest of the suitcases.
“My pleasure.”
You flinch when the van parked behind suddenly opens its door, and the next thing you hear is your name being called from the inside. The voices of Soonyoung, Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Chan, who you find waving at you as soon as you turn your head. With a chuckle, you wave back at them, gesturing with your hand for them to stop the noise before someone gets mad right after.
Joshua meets your gaze when you look back, and gestures with his head for you to get in. You smile again because that’s all you can do when he’s around.
Then you hop in the vehicle and Jeonghan waves at you from the last row of seats at the back. Making your way over, you keep the same small smile, noticing the sleeping boys across the other seats before you plop down next to your friend.
The door closes right after Joshua hops back in, and you’re stealing glances at him until the man next to you grabs your face between his fingers and turns your head to look at him. He frowns.
“Any reason in particular why you’re soaking?”
Your brows knit together, and he releases you.
“Just felt like getting refreshed.”
Your best friend snorts, and you shoot him a glare in return.
“You fell asleep in the shower, didn’t you?”
“Shut up.”
He giggles, and you decide to ignore him as the car starts moving, fastening your seatbelt. It doesn't take long until your eyes fly back to the object of your desires.
You don’t know how you’re gonna survive being so close to him.
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Three hours into the road trip and you’re sleeping soundly against Jeonghan’s shoulder while he scrolls through his phone. The van comes to a stop, so everyone is able to go to the bathroom or buy more snacks. Some of the boys are gathering outside before Jun approaches Seungcheol and Joshua.
“Hey, do you guys think I could move to your van? My seatbelt isn’t working and I’ve been panicking over every single bump on the road for like three hours, I’m exhausted.”
Seungcheol and Joshua laugh.
“Why would you wait three hours to say anything?” Seungcheol asks, tilting his head in confusion. Jun’s brows furrow together before he says:
“What else was I supposed to do? Stop the van in the middle of nowhere?”
“You could’ve called me and I would’ve asked the driver to pull over to take care of it.” The eldest shrugs, Jun groans.
“Can I go to your van or not?”
Seungcheol looks at Joshua, who shrugs as he sips on his water bottle.
“Sure, I can move to the last row.”
Jun smiles with his thumbs up before they make their way back to the van. Junhui goes to the other vehicle to take his pillow and bring it with him. Joshua, once inside, grabs some of his stuff and walks toward the back of the car. Seeing you asleep as the corners of his mouth curl up in the most subtle smile at the scene, right when Jeonghan looks up at him in question.
“Jun is moving to this van.” He says quietly as if reading the male's mind. Jeonghan nods and goes back to his business.
The slender Junhui finally hops into the van with his stuff, taking Joshua’s previous seat and fastening his seatbelt. The door slides closed and Joshua secures himself as well, tucking his AirPods in his ears and playing his music.
Everything is peaceful for the next thirty or so minutes, Joshua is currently with his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, head back resting against the headrest as his mind focuses only on the music.
But then, you stir in your sleep and move to lean your head on his shoulder. His body tenses as soon as he feels your sudden proximity, face nuzzling in the crook of his neck and forcing him to gulp. He starts playing with his own fingers, averting his gaze from the window, not really knowing how to react. He waits for you to realize, but soon notices you’re still deeply asleep, so he lets you stay there for the rest of the road.
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“Hey, wake up, we arrived,” Jeonghan calls, gently shaking you. “Hey, open your eyes,” He repeats, and you’re finally woken up, sitting straight and rubbing your eyes to help them get used to the light.
Disoriented for a moment, the gears in your brain slowly start to work at their normal speed. You stretch out your now sore limbs as you look at your surroundings. All the boys left their vans except you, Jeonghan trying to wake you up, and Joshua, whom you notice is still seated beside you. You frown, but he smiles.
“Wait, weren’t you sitting in the front row? What did I miss? How long did I sleep?”
He chuckles, charmed by your utter confusion.
“Well, yeah, but Jun moved to this van. You would’ve noticed if you hadn’t been sleeping for four hours,” Jeonghan is the one to respond, grabbing your hands and pulling you up.
“Four hours?!” You exclaim, rubbing your eyes. 
The faintest grunt manages to be hidden from you, and all of you three make your way to exit the van. Jeonghan is the first one to jump out, followed by Joshua. Your vision is still blurry and you’re still clumsy from the grogginess, which doesn’t make the calculation between the van and the floor an easy task.
Joshua notices, so he extends his hand for you to take. You look at it, then at his face. He offers you yet another gentle smile and your stomach flips even in your current state. Still, you smile back and accept his hand, clasping yours around it as he helps you land on your feet without an issue.
You reunite with the rest of the guys soon after, and they’re quick to erase any trace of tiredness as soon as they start being their loud selves, taking turns to hug you or pat your head.
And well, you don’t complain, because it’s nice to have all of them around.
You take a second to look at your surroundings, but the air is way too filled with haze to be able to distinguish anything at all. The cold breeze chills you to the bone and you start to feel the urge to get into to the warmth of the cabin, and as if your prayers had been heard, you spot Seungcheol walking with a few pairs of keys and two girls in their twenties following behind him.
“Okay. So,  we have four cabins at our disposition. In the first one will stay Minghao, Seokmin, Vernon and Jihoon. Junhui, Chan, Seungkwan and Soonyoung in the second one, Jeonghan, Wonwoo and Mingyu in the third, and lastly, the fourth one is for Joshua, myself, and our girl here.” He explains. “They the hosts, Jihye and Jangmi.”
The ground beneath you quakes at the thought of sharing a place with Joshua himself, breath hitching in your throat and mouth going dry. Your eyes nervously travel to the two girls in front of you, as if asking for help. They don't help you, but they also seem very welcoming and kind.
“Hi, I’m Jihye. We live here in a house that’s around the corner, and we’ll gladly be available for anything you may need.” She smiles. “The four cabins are equipped with furniture, fireplaces, kitchens, two bathrooms, and four rooms respectively. Each room has a TV, a heater, a desk, and a closet for you to place all of your items.”
“In the living room you’ll find the fireplace, comfortable couches, and even a sofa bed. In the kitchen, you have a small dining table, a microwave, a refrigerator, and different kinds of utensils for you to use,” The second girl adds. “Here in the common areas, you have some benches, picnic tables, and grillers. We also have wifi and my name is Jangmi, by the way.” She chuckles, and all of you laugh along.”
“Also, the bathrooms have a water heater and a first aid kit inside the cabinets. If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to reach out and we’ll be happy to help.” Continues Jihye, with a kind smile.
All of you bow in gratitude for their help, right before Soonyoung speaks.
“Are you aware that we’re throwing a party tomorrow night?” He asks in genuine curiosity, Jihye nods.
“Yeah, we’ve been notified and you don’t have to worry about anything. Since we’re in a mountain, there shouldn’t be a problem when it comes to music, for example.”
“Cool!”
“Okay but, I have a question.” You finally speak, feeling everyone’s eyes landing on you. You clear your throat. “Would it be weird if I asked you to join?”
Certainly, you don’t know these girls, but they seem very sweet and it would be awful of you not to, at least, ask them if they’d like to join when they’re so close.
“Oh that’s alright! You don’t have to.” One of them says, waving her hand dismissively.
“But we’d love it if you joined us,” Seokmin says, walking to you and placing his arm around your neck. “It’ll be fun.”
All of them agree, and the girls seem a bit taken aback, you suppose they’ve never been included in anything similar when it comes to tourists. But then, and after a quick glance to one another, they smile.
“If that’s okay with you, we’d love to.”
You smile at them.
“Then it’s settled up.”
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Needless to say, you didn’t take long to stop by Jeonghan’s cabin. After taking a much-needed shower and getting diner, you dressed in your coziest pajamas and exited your place to visit your best friend.
And there you are, sprawled across his bed as he sits on the chair in front of the desk.
Staring up at the ceiling fan, you blurt out:
“I was hoping we’d stay at the same cabin.”
“Don’t pretend like you like me that much.” Jeonghan promptly responds. Teasing you as you prop yourself up with your elbows to glare at him. “You have the Hong Jisoo himself in there, what else could you ask for as a birthday gift?”
A faint gasp escapes you, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him. He laughs out loud.
“Shut the fuck up, would you?” You whisper-shout, crawling to the edge of the bed to get closer. He tries to stop laughing but your distressed expression makes it impossible for him. “I shouldn’t have said anything to you. No one’s supposed to know.”
“Yeah, because no one would ever notice the way you shamelessly keep staring at him.”
“You’re exaggerating.” You groan, smacking his thigh while he continues laughing. “Cut it out, you asshole.”
His laugh slowly dies down, then he catches his breath.
“Anyway… Not the point.” He continues. “He’s going to be in the room across from yours. Would you really want to have me there instead of him?”
There it is. That stupid look with a quirked brow. He really knows you well.
You groan, covering your face with your palms before laying down on your back.
“You’re so fucking annoying”
“I wonder how you’ll react when I tell you that you slept on him for over an hour.”
Eyes flying open, you almost fall off the bed.
“What did you say?! What the fuck? I did not, you always like to see me distressed. You’re fucking with me.” Embarrassment floods inside you, grabbing another pillow to repeatedly hit him with it as a coping mechanism.
Jeonghan once again laughs at your reaction, covering himself with his arms before snatching the pillow away.
“Stop it with the damned pillow.” He groans. “And no, I’m not lying. Though I do love the way you’re losing your shit.”
“How am I supposed to look at him whe-” You trail off, “Wait, did I drool? Snore? Fart?” Jeonghan laughs again. “Stop laughing for fuck’s sake, Yoon Jeonghan. I’m going to bite your head off!”
“God you’re so dramatic.” He chuckles. “Nothing big, he’ll understand if you’re a bit gassy.”
“What?!”
He laughs out loud again.
“I’m just kidding. You didn’t do anything.”
“What kind of best friend are you?”
“The one you chose, sweetheart.” He teases, grabbing your chin with his fingers and winking at you. You roll your eyes, then smack his hand away.
The door opens right after, and Vernon's head pops in.
“Hey, wanna watch a movie with us?”
“Who are ‘us’?” You ask in return.
“Ehh… I don’t know? Kwan, Chan, Hao, Jun, Joshua… Me?” He shrugs. “Most of us.”
Giving it a thought, you end up realizing you don't truly feel like making a fool of yourself any further, so you smile and shake your head.
“I think I’ll pass. I have to unpack and I’m feeling tired.”
“Sure. See you tomorrow then.” Vernon smiles, waving before closing the door.
Jeonghan gives you a suspicious look.
“What?”
“You slept the whole road and you’re tired?”
“Well, yeah… Panicking is exhausting.” You respond, gaining a roll of his eyes in return. “I’ll go to my room and think about my life decisions. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”  You add, walking towards the door.
“Sure, just know I’ll tell Joshua you didn’t stay because of him.”
You glare back at your best friend. He laughs.
“Make sure I don’t touch your coffee in the morning, Yoon Jeonghan”
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You’re snuggled up in the warmth of the designated bed, sleeping peacefully until the door slams open and a bunch of men enter the room singing very loudly a happy birthday.
A groan erupts from your throat against the pillow, lights being turned on before you can even sit up and rub your eyes to adjust to the sudden illuminance. The cheerful idiots continue singing off key on purpose, clapping as Seungcheol walks to you with a cake in his hands, candles already lit and ready for you to blow off.
You can’t help but smile at the sweet gesture, though, running your fingers through your hair in a failed try to look a little less disheveled. Jeonghan jumps onto the opposite end of your bed, kneeling as he also sings and claps. Soonyoung, on the other hand, climbs onto the edge of the mattress just to sing louder and start throwing some improvised confetti. They continue hollering, clapping, and overall being a mess. Then you make a wish, blowing the candles out right after. Lazy smile on your face, clapping along with them.
“Happy birthday!”
“Thank you, guys. If it wasn’t for the gesture, I would’ve murdered all of you for waking me up.” You sarcastically say, accepting the knife Seungcheol hands you and cutting a small piece of cake.
“Aren’t you eating?” Chan asks from behind, you shake your head.
“You guys eat first. I still have to wash up.”
With that, Seokmin takes the cake away from you and exits the room with some of the guys following behind.
“We still have to go grocery shopping for tonight,” Seungcheol says.
“Yeah, I can go with Jeonghan.”
“I’ll go too. Jihye is going to come with us to be a guide,” Cheol adds. “Do you wanna join, Shua?” He asks the man standing next to him, the same one whose presence you hadn’t noticed until now. A sudden wave of embarrassment flows throughout you, considering the way you look, cheeks warming up when he smiles.
“Sure, no problem.”
“Okay then we’ll meet outside in thirty minutes,” Seungcheol adds. Stepping closer, he pats your head lovingly. “Happy birthday, once again.”
You mumble a “Thank you.” at him, eyes briefly glancing over at Joshua, who only gives you another one of his gentle and reassuring smiles before walking out of the room.
Jeonghan is quick to engulf you in a hug, a hand stroking the hair at the back of your head.
“You’re an oldie now.” He mutters against your head. “Can you feel your thirties breathing on your neck yet?"
You roll your eyes and push him away, glaring at him. He chuckles.
“Get out, I have to take a shower.”
“Right, sleeping beauty.” He leaves another caress on your head accompanied by a soft smile, “Don’t forget to brush your teeth, that dragon breath will even scare the demons away.”
Covering your mouth with your hands, your face is soon face filled with distress.
“Jeonghan!”
He laughs loudly, standing up and making his way towards the door.
“Just kidding, see you later.” He shuts the door closed behind him after a very obnoxious wink.
Air fills up your lungs with a deep breath, Jeonghan's comment sobering you up immediately and forcing you to hurry off the bed to get into the bathroom, take a shower and get dressed.
As soon as you’re ready, you grab a scarf from the closet, then your phone to make your way out of the cabin, not before stealing a very much needed piece of cake.
The sunlight greets you when you walk through the door, its usual warmth doing nothing in contrast to the freezing air that collides against the exposed skin of your face. You’re quick to wrap the scarf around your neck, boots dragging across the grassy ground as you pull your phone out to of your pocket to send Jeonghan a message.
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A sigh leaves your lips, and you're shoving your phone back into your pocket the moment you find Joshua already standing there, hands in his pockets and fluffy hair shining under the sunlight.
He's craning his neck as soon as he notices your presence, smiling at you.
“Good morning, again.” 
“Nice seeing you again, birthday girl.” He greets you back, stepping closer and patting your head sweetly. His touch is gentle, way more gentle than Jeonghan’s or any others. He’s careful and sweet. Still, you chuckle to not make it weird.
“It's like I'm a like a dog. Everyone’s been patting my head today.”
Joshua chuckles, a small cloud of fog escaping from his lips to remind you of the cold surroundings, even when you seem to have forgotten about it with the heat in your veins.
“I’m sorry, we are really annoying.”
Laughing, you shake your head.
“No, no. It’s okay, I don’t mind.” You assure, wishing you could add how you’re especially fond of his gentle touches. “I know that’s your way of showing affection.” You add. Because that’s what you hope in your head, that somehow, he have affection for you.
“Of course.” A light and melodious chuckle resonates after his response, patting your head once again.
Silly little giggles are the only thing that come from you in result.
Then, he looks behind you. His smile grows and he lifts his hand up to wave. When you turn around, you see what he’s staring at.
Seungcheol and Jihye make their way towards the two of you.
“Ready to leave?” 
“Yeah, we are.” You smile, rubbing your hands together in search of warmth.
“Bonding, aren’t we?” Seungcheol teases, making you smile.
“You could say that.”
You look at Joshua after responding, he chuckles, and your stomach flips.
“Alright then! Follow me, the store is nearby.” Jihye finally speaks, soon having the three of you following her lead.
The walk is quick and chill, something you’re grateful for considering how cold it is outside. When you arrive at the market, you grab a cart and start walking.
“Okay, so, what do we need?” You ask Cheol, who gives it a brief thought.
“Some drinks, snacks, plates, cups? Preferably plastic ones. Also, some trash plastic bags to clean in the morning.”
“Okay, the plasticware is here at the right. The snacks and drinks are on the opposite side, where the refrigerators are." Jihye explains, hands gesturing as she points to the directions.
“Good. I’ll go with Jihye and you can take care of the snacks and drinks.” He says to both Joshua and you. “Pick whatever you want, it’s your birthday.”
“I might take the whole store with me, then.” You joke, and he chuckles.
The four of you part ways, with you and Joshua going together. He takes you by surprise by sneaking one of his hands in between your arms. You look up at him, confused.
“I’ll do it.” He smiles. You accept the offer with a smile and move aside to let him take your place. Your heartbeats increase in speed at the simple act of chivalry, while you're also trying to distract yourself by eyeing up the shelves.
How’s it possible that he hasn't noticed the way his mere presence puts your whole world upside down?
Looking at all the different flavors, sizes, and textures of potato chips, Doritos, and sweets that are displayed, you decide to quietly contemplate the ones you're craving the most. Joshua's soft voice in the distance lets you be aware that he’s gonna go and grab some beers while you make up your mind.
Since you're such an indecisive individual, you start grabbing packs randomly. Salty, spicy chips, some peperos, and even some biscuits for a change. It's now your mission to find those celestial Honey Butter Chips you’d die for, and when you finally spot them, you groan because of fucking course they had to be placed at the top of the shelf and very much impossible for you to reach them.
How cliché is that?
Still, you try, because one can’t let one's pride be wounded, plus, you’re way too introverted to ask for help anyway. Standing on tiptoes with one arm holding the rest of the snacks, you stretch out your free limb and try to, at least, make one of the damned bags fall to the floor. You don't make it, though. The tips of your fingers barely graze against the bag.
“Need some help?”
The man's voice makes you freeze on the spot. Brain malfunctioning as soon as you feel his breath on your neck. His huge hand reaches for the chips, all of this in seemingly slow motion. You stay there, paralyzed and with your eyes glued to him.
Stepping back, he holds the bag of chips in front of him, wiggling it. His lips curl up sweetly.
“I got you.” 
It's automatic, the way you start detailing every single feature of that gorgeous face. The smoothness and melanin of his skin, the roundness of his lips, and the intense but glowing irises of his dark eyes. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone this pretty in your life.
He snaps you back into reality once he tilts his head, noticing you’ve been staring for too long. You mentally slap yourself, cheeks red in embarrassment at the possibility of making him uncomfortable. The only solution seems to be clearing your throat and looking away.
“Thanks, Shua.”
“You’re welcome.” He says, hand placing the item inside the cart and starting to move again, “You should’ve asked me, though, I was right there.”
“Sorry, I didn’t want to bother you. I could do it myself.” This is your insecurity speaking, or the first cheap excuse you have now decided to throw. Whatever suits best the situation.
Joshua can only laugh at that, moving his hand to place it on top of your head. You turn your gaze in his direction, like a deer in headlights as he smiles at you, leaning against the handle on his elbow.
“I know you can.” He coos, caressing the top of your head and sending sparks throughout your body. “Just let yourself be pampered today.”
A smile creeps up your face, finding it hard to look away but doing it anyway. The two of you start walking around the store, and somehow it’s like you two are partners in crime. Stealing glances and soft smiles, slightly bumping into each other. You feel it then, the way warmth radiates from him and embraces you. It’s not cold whenever he’s around.
Soon, you cross paths with Seungcheol and Jihye again. Make your way to the cashier and be ready to pay for everything to go back to the cabins.
On your way back, you spot an ice rink. There are just a few people skating at this time of the day. Your eyes light up instantly.
“Woah, I didn’t know there was one of these in here.” You mumble, your three companions standing next to you.
“Oh! That’s a popular spot for families and tourists to have fun. We love to bring our friends sometimes.” It's Jihye's voice that follows, explaining as you smile at the sight of some children having fun in their ice skates.
“I can imagine, it looks so fun.”
You're having a moment with your inner child. There will be time later to get to the point of embarrassment. That, of course, if you don't notice the way Joshua looks at you ever so fondly.
“Wanna skate for a bit?”
Unexpected. That's what Joshua's question is. You're looking back at him, tilting your head.
“I would, but there are things to set for tonight.”
“You don’t need to worry about that,” Seungcheol assures then, smiling at you. “It’s your birthday, we will take care of everything. You can stay here and have fun.”
His words bring an instant grin to your face.
“Really? Should I?”
“Of course! It’s on the house!” 
Oh, sweet Jihye.
“Oh no no, I can pay for it, you don’t have to!”
She shakes her head dismissively.
“That’s alright! The owners are family friends. Take it as a birthday gift.”
How can you not smile at her kindness?
“Thank you.”
“Alright let me grab these,” Cheol speaks, snatching the bags you’ve been holding. “Shua, take care of her and all of that.”
“Of course.”
Joshua looks at you then, a sweet and comforting smile being sent in your direction.
“I’ll see you guys in a while!” Then you say, as you wave at them goodbye.
“Alright, let’s get ready.”
Joshua nods his head for you to follow him, and of course, you do.
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You certainly didn’t think this through. All things considered.
It shows the moment you put the skates on. Wobbly legs make their way into the rink. It’s not as easy as you imagined.
“I think this wasn’t a good idea.”
Now you're holding onto the walls for dear life, speaking to yourself, and reconsidering your choices in life. Then, you spot Joshua a few meters away. Skating on the ice as if it were nothing, his hands in his pockets, and the wind blowing his hair.
He then turns around in search of you, taking a few seconds to actually find you. As soon as he does, he laughs at the scene of you in the very corner.
He moves closer to you, and you’re so, so embarrassed you want the damn ice to melt and let you drown in it.
“You okay there?”
You want to let out the loudest whine, but you must act your age this time. You can't possibly make more of a fool of yourself in front of the man you like.
“Just peachy.”
You're clawing onto the brick wall, almost counting the seconds until you’re ass planted on the floor.
Joshua's big hand grabs one of your wrists, and you look at him with panic.
“Come on, let’s help you out.”
“Wait wait, I’ll fall, Joshua!” 
There it is. The whine you desperately wanted to hold made it to the surface. It only makes him laugh even more.
“You’re okay, I won’t let you fall.” A bold statement for someone who clearly doesn't know the great amount of clumsiness encased in such a little body. He continues pulling you away from the wall and holding onto your hands. “Just relax, yeah?”
He starts skating backward slowly. You don't know how he manages to be so relaxed as you cut the circulation from his fingers. But it'll have to do.
“This was such a bad idea, I’m so embarrassed.”
He starts loosening the grip on your hands. Realization hits you instantly, eyes flying open as he distances himself from you.
"Don't you fucking dare, Hong Jisoo! Come back here!"
Chuckle after chuckle. Seems like you're his main source of comedy today.
“You can do it.”
“Joshua Hong, you better come and hold my fucking hands.”
It's a threat, but he doesn't see it as such, even with your gritted teeth. He only looks down at you, clearly amused.
“Come on, you’ll be fine. It's not that bad, is it?"
“Why are you doing this to me? My mistake was thinking you'd be better than Yoon Jeonghan but I was clearly wrong. I swear to god you’ll pay the hospital bills when my bones break, and I hope you feel guilty for the rest of your life, cause how can you do this shit to me, Jisoo. I absolutely despise the sh-”
“Stop ranting and look at yourself.” 
And you do. With a chuckle, you slowly and clumsily move your legs.
“Oh, would you look at that? I’m actually doing it.” You laugh, looking up at him. The fondness in his eyes sends butterflies to your stomach.
He comes closer then, and grabs your hands once again.
“Let’s move a little faster.” 
"Let's fucking not!"
He doesn’t even let you oppose before he’s moving quicker. You want to kill him for a moment, but then you're actually having fun, laughing together, very romantic.
Until you trip.
Thankfully, he’s quick to pull you onto him and wrap an arm around your waist to stop your fall.
Bodies pressing together, your hands placed against his chest, looking into his eyes.
“You okay?” He whispers, so close to your face you can actually see his condensed breath. 
You only nod, and for some reason, the two of you stay like this for a few seconds. Looking at each other, his eyes traveling between your eyes and down to your lips. 
You could swear he’s leaning in, maybe wishful thinking or whatever, but you can almost taste his lips.
But then he clears his throat and helps you stand straight.
“That was close.” He says with a small, nervous laugh. “Sorry if it was too much.”
Yeah, you're being delusional.
“No, it’s okay. It was fun.”
“Uh, well... It’s getting dark.” He continues, looking up at the sky, then looking back at you. “Should we head back?”
“Yeah, sure.”
He makes sure to help you get safely to the exit. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to go back to the cabins, that are sadly way too close to the rink… One hour alone with him wasn’t enough.
When you arrive, it saddens you to think that the special moment you shared with him is now over. Still, you wonder if what happened between you two back in the rink was really your imagination.
Your friends run to you as soon as they notice your arrival. They promise everything’s ready and all you need to do is get dressed and enjoy the party.
With a smile, you go back to your room and start getting ready.
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Later at night, everyone is already gathered outside. The boys whistle at you teasingly when you get out of your cabin, gaining a roll of your eyes in response.
“Stop it, you perverts.” 
“Lookin’ like a snack”
That's Soonyoung, now placing an arm around your neck with a proud grin. You quirk a brow, looking up at his face.
“What does that even mean?”
“He means you look hot,” Chan says, butting in.
“Ew,” Joking, you push Soonyoung away. He looks at you confused, so you laugh. “Just kidding.”
“You are a mean woman.” He exclaims in his usual dramatism.
Seokmin then comes and puts his arm around Soonyoung.
“I’ll take him. He’s a bit drunk.” With a wink, he starts pulling Soonyoung away, as he mutters “I’m not drunk!”
Chuckling, your eyes search for Joshua, who’s distracted and enrolled in a conversation with Minghao and Wonwoo. Your smile slightly falters, because somehow, you wish he had complimented you, too.
Chan then walks to you, placing an arm around your shoulder. You look at him in confusion, and he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows.
“So, how does it feel to be a noona?”
You snort.
“I’ve always been a noona to you.”
“You’re right. Didn’t know what to say, sorry.”
With another roll of your eyes, you push him away. The two of you laugh until you spot Jeonghan a moment later, and join him at one of the picnic tables.
Fresh steak is being grilled by Mingyu, music is being played by Vernon, and the rest are either drinking or sitting and having a chat. The two girls arrive not long after, shy at first but soon engaging easily in the conversation. You learn that they study online, Jihye is majoring in arts while Jangmi went into fashion design. Their parents have been renting cabins for years, and they plan to continue doing so when they are gone.
Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, you stand up from the picnic table to go for another beer, teeth clacking due to the freezing air. You get inside and grab an unopened can, switching it open and taking a swig. A grimace appears on your face at the cheap taste before turning around and going back outside.
You had planned to go back to the table, but your plans change when someone tugs at your wrist and stops you. You turn around and almost collide with Minghao’s figure. He grins.
“You look bored. Wanna dance?”
You smile.
“Sure.”
And that’s how it starts to get really fun, with the two of you dancing before at least another five of the boys join to dance along. It goes that way for a good part of the night, and admittedly, you don’t think you’ve had so much fun before.
These men’s antics are way too hilarious, as they keep clowning themselves without a care in the world despite the cold. That's when you decide it's time to go and grab Jihye and Jangmi by the hands, pulling them with you to join and dance, and they do, having fun when they feel comfortable enough.
You even see Joshua dancing along.
All of you dance until your limbs are exhausted, soon forcing you to excuse yourself. You grab another can of beer, this time deciding to take some fresh air on your own. Walking around until you find a nice spot on a little hill a few steps away, a bit quieter. 
You sit on the grass, knees pushed up and arms hugging them to keep yourself warm. You have a nice view of the city illuminated with different colored lights, something unexpected since all you’ve seen so far is haze.
Taking another swig of your drink, you let the cold wind touch your face. Everything is peaceful and quiet at the moment. Except for your mind.
Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you see the time being three in the morning. No wonder you suddenly feel so raw and vulnerable. 
Yearning that someone’s company so much is making your chest feel tight, and perhaps, your feelings aren’t just a simple crush at all.
A check on your social media shows the boys’ posts. There he is, with that beautiful smile of his that could light the whole town. Your heart flutters as you continue looking at his picture for who knows how long. A smile forms on your face, fingers grazing the shape of his face.
Then you hear someone’s footsteps approaching against the grass, eyes meeting with Jihoon’s right after. A subtle smile on his face when he sits right next to you.
“Hey, why aren’t you at your own party?”
You shrug.
“I just wanted to be alone for a while and think.”
Jihoon hums with a smile, looking ahead.
“Sounds dangerous.”
A small giggle leaves your lips. It's silent, only the breeze can be heard as you collect your thoughts.
“Jihoon,”
“Yeah?”
You crane your neck to look at him.
“Why do I always feel like I want to let my feelings out at this hour?
He thinks about it, leaning back against his palms.
“Well, you know what they say. Everyone turns into their most vulnerable self in the middle of the night. It’s often the time when I get the inspiration to compose.”
“I’m starting to understand what it truly means.” You confess with a nod. “It’s like I’m being overwhelmed with emotions, and I just wish I could lift them off my shoulders.”
Jihoon sits up straight and places his hand on yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze that you appreciate.
“If you feel the urge to let them out, maybe they don’t need to stay hidden.”
“But... It could have consequences.”
He retracts his hand and sighs.
“Yeah, but every decision has a result. Anything you do or say might lead to something, you can choose to find out what it is, or keep it bottled up and let it slowly consume you.”
You process his words carefully, smiling afterward.
“No wonder you’re so great at writing songs.”
“Had to find a productive way to let everything out.” He explains with a chuckle. “Wanna head back?”
“Yeah, I’ll reach you in a minute.”
Jihoon nods and stands up, walking back to where his friends are.
Grabbing your phone once again, fingers scroll through your contacts until you find his number and open the conversation.
There. Consider the possibilities. It’s the middle of the night. you know you can’t trust yourself at this hour, but somehow you’d rather get it off your chest now that you're feeling brave.
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That’s it. You’ve opened the gates to let your feelings escape. You hope it’s really worth it.
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You're still starting to feel the relief of lifting that weight off your shoulders, but also the uncertainty still managing to shoot a sprinkle of insecurity straight to your brain.
Locking your phone and shoving it back into your pocket, you feel nauseous and your heart is heavy. You fucked up. You know you did.
Sighing, you rest your forehead against your forearms. Your eyes flutter shut as you desperately try to stabilize your breathing. The knot in your stomach becomes painful, your throat tight enough to make your airways feel constricted.
Then, it's time to stand up. You’re not really sure how you’re gonna face Joshua, or the rest of the boys, for that matter. Not now that you decided it was a good idea to confess your feelings through a text message.
However, you stop in your tracks the moment you see Joshua. The air is completely knocked out of your lungs as he silently approaches.
Locks of hair subtly blow in the wind, the moonlight makes his skin glow oh, so gracefully, and his pupils are surely putting the stars at shame. His lips are slightly agape, subtle clouds of fog escaping from his mouth, erratic breathing hinting how he must’ve hurried to come and find you.
It's an urge for you to say anything, but your brain can’t even formulate coherent sentences.
“Josh-”
An arm of his wraps around your waist, pulling you against him before his lips are enclosing yours in a kiss, interrupting whatever excuse you were planning on using.
Eyes flutter close instantly, hands clasping around his wrists. The kiss is soft, sweet, and too short for your liking. He barely pulls back, lips still inches away from yours, noses brushing when he says: 
“I do like you.”
Joshua's thumb runs over your lower lip, staring down at you with half-lidded dark eyes. His smile appears right after, bright and contagious, a breathy chuckle falling from his mouth. You smile back, hands moving up to find purchase at the sides of his neck.
“Do you?”
Dumb question, but you can’t help but ask it.
“Yeah.” He promptly responds, pressing another chaste kiss against your mouth. “So much.”
“Lucky me.”
You're now the one who chuckles, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss.
Nothing could’ve ever prepared you for the way it feels to have his lips on yours. He's unsurprisingly a very skilled kisser. Knowing perfectly well how to move his lips slowly and delicious, the liplock accompanied by soft nips, sucks, and rhythmic movements against the other’s mouth. He tilts his head and pulls you further against his mouth, hands cupping your jaw. Your head spins in pure ecstasy.
The kiss breaks slowly, still in a daze when you detail the way his lips have turned red and swollen. His thumbs gently rub the skin of your cheeks, and it feels like you're about to vomit a whole zoo. He pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your body and embracing you tightly.
You bury your face in his chest and breathe him in. You embrace all of him and his sweet scent, letting your eyes close and humming contently as your fingers curl on the fabric of his coat.
“How are we going to explain this?”
“We don’t need to.” He says, pulling back and looking at you. “Seems everyone knew what was going on, except me.”
That certainly makes you laugh, cause you've been way too obvious all along.
“That’s embarrassing.”
“Tell me about it.” He agrees, placing a kiss on top of your head. “Wanna go back?”
He extends his hand palm up. You look down at it before intertwining your fingers, a smile on your face.
As soon as you arrive, the teasing begins.
“Took you both long enough!”
Seems like you ended up being the center of attention for a very different reason. Your cheeks burn as Joshua releases your hand and grabs your wrist instead, moving you to stand next to him, then placing his arm around your waist.
He's the one who decides to retort first.
“Yeah yeah, drop it already.”
“I was almost going to confess in her name at this point.” Jeonghan jokes, approaching the two of you.
“Still bitter you didn’t tell me shit,” Joshua confesses, your best friend shakes his hand and gives him a quick, brotherly hug.
“I could’ve, but she would’ve whined about it for years.”
A glare shoots in his direction straight from your eyes, smacking his chest, which makes him laugh.
“Who would’ve thought you can actually keep a secret?”
“Don’t test your luck, I still know plenty of things your new boyfriend would love to know.”
Joshua looks at you with a quirked brow, but you’re quick to grab his hand and start pulling him away.
“Anyway who wants to dance?!”
Joshua looks between you and Jeonghan, who's being left behind. He's clearly intrigued by the situation but follows you nonetheless.
You’ll remember to invite Jihoon to grab some food later.
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It's way past five when you're in your bed staring at the ceiling. Everyone must be either passed out somewhere or getting ready for bed since the sun will be rising soon.
There’s only one thing on your mind now that you’re back in your room.
You grab your phone and unlock it, looking for the conversation you started a few hours ago. Fingers typing almost on autopilot, hoping he’s still awake.
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Excitement fills your body when you place your phone back on the nightstand. It doesn’t take long until you hear a soft knock on the door.
“Come in!”
You soon see his face, his hand running through his slightly messy hair. Wearing a pair of sweats and a tank top that lets you admire his bare, toned biceps. Teeth sinking in your lip in anticipation, no one could ever look this good.
Scooting, you make room for him on your bed, lifting the covers so he can slide in. As soon as he does, you’re both face to face. It's so charming that even in his tired state, he smiles and places a soft kiss on your lips.
Burying your face in his neck and playing with the hairs at the back of his head, he hums, letting you know he appreciates the gesture before his arms wrap around your frame, pulling you even more into his.
“Hmm, you smell nice.” You admit, a breathy chuckle escaping from his mouth and making his chest vibrate against you.
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
The sudden pet name sends a wave of sparks through your body, not to mention the arousal of knowing he’s using a pet name just for you.
“I could get used to you calling me nice things.”
Joshua pulls back to look into your eyes once again, a light smirk now forming on his lips.
“Yeah?”
Big hand lifts and runs its fingers through your hair.
“Yeah.”
The two of you stay quiet for a moment, but his eyes never leave yours. Smile slowly vanishing the more the tension in the room arises. His soft touches start to become bold, with a hand running from your neck to your shoulder, and from your shoulder down your arm.
“Your skin is so warm, so soft.” It's a mumble, barely audible, as his hand moves from your arm to your waist, gently pushing up the hem of your shirt and letting his hand travel through your curves.
His touch makes your skin erupt in goosebumps.
“I like it when you touch me.”
“Hmm. You shouldn’t say that to me.” He whispers, mouth ghosting over yours as his hand travels upwards, finding your ribs. “I don’t think I can hold back.”
“Then don’t.” 
His gaze darkens at your words, glued to yours in the barely illuminated room. Your body is now craving him, yearning for his touch after dreaming about him for so long.
Joshua then makes the next move, propping on his elbow, his upper half hovering over you. 
You look up at him when his hand comes in contact with your cheek. His beauty is immaculate under the moonlight peeking through the windows. There's so much want being shared. The sight of him on you is so alluring it’ll be engraved in your memory for the rest of your life.
The necklace hanging from his neck looks so tempting, makes you want to curl your fingers around it just to pull him in and succumb to your true desires.
“Then remember that you asked for it.” He speaks again. “I’m going to worship every inch of your skin and kiss at every corner the way I want, give you whatever you wish while making you mine.”
“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
He drags his fingers down your skin, eyes shifting from yours to down your lips.
“Fuck.”
Before anything else can be said, he leans in and kisses you. His kiss once again takes over all your senses. So slow, open-mouthed, and passionate. Your hands fly to the back of his head to tangle in his soft locks, kissing him in a way he could feel how much you’ve wanted to have him.
His thigh spreads your legs to position himself between them more comfortably. His big hands roam down your neck, shoulders, and waist, making sure that his fingers dance along every single inch of your skin, setting it aflame.
You nip at his lip, tugging gently and making him groan. The tip of your tongue teases the area before he lets his own dive into your mouth to press, roll, and play.
Both can feel the arousal pooling in your underwear, the heat and the need are unbearable. You're clenching around nothing, an effect only his kiss has caused. Pathetic, but real.
Joshua's mouth starts traveling from the corner of your lips, to your jaw and down your neck. You bite your lip again, trying not to whimper and melt into a piddle. Tilting your head back to give him more access, the heaviness in your breath is enough to agitate him, and soon you feel the hard tent in his sweatpants pressing against your thigh.
A lift of your hips and a slight grind are enough to make him curse under his breath as his fingers claw onto your waist.
“Fuck.” He grunts before his tongue gently laps at the exposed column of your neck. You scrap at his scalp, tugging on his hair before grinding on him again. His kiss travels upwards, finding your ear and nibbling on the lobe, “You’re gonna be the death of me.” He whispers, voice hoarse and lust-filled.
“Please, Joshua.” You can't help but beg, beg for him to give you more, pressing yourself against him as much as possible. “I need you.”
“I got you, baby. Let’s take your clothes off, yeah?”
He pulls back and slides his fingers under your shirt, lifting it and pulling it over your head before throwing it somewhere in the room.
His eyes get even more hooded at the sight of your bare breasts, pupils dilating as his hands start running down your bare torso, slowly, smoothly, the touch burning your skin. His palms enclose your chest, kneading gently, his thumbs run over the perked nipples, rolling them between his digits. You moan at the action, hands clasping around his biceps and nails clawing on his skin. He bites his lip as he watches every reaction of yours, finally lowering his head to wrap his lips around one of your nipples.
A whimper falls from your mouth the moment his tongue starts playing with your sensitive buds. He looks up, not wanting to miss any expression of yours as he continues to suck, lick, and suck again.
“Fuck, Shua, that feels so good.”
He hums, moving to the neglected breast and repeating the process. His free hand runs down your stomach, sliding under the waistband of your panties. Long middle finger soon sliding between your folds, pressing on the wet button and making you choke on a moan.
“So wet. I’ve barely touched you, baby.” He teases, pulling away from your nipple and smirking at you. His fingers start rubbing up and down, face hovering over yours, staring intently. He pushes two of his fingers into your hole, and your back arches against his chest.
His lips keep that smirk on, nodding at you while you moan. “That’s it. Feels good, yeah?”
You bite your lip and manage to nod.
Joshua starts pumping his fingers faster, moving his body from over you to get rid of your pants and your panties by dragging them down your legs. All of this without stopping with his ministrations.
There you are, in all your naked glory in front of him, so exposed and vulnerable, but not feeling scared because the way he looks at you is enough to make you feel so wanted.
“So pretty, all for me.” He leans down and grazes his lips against the skin of your tummy. Curling up his fingers, he grazes the perfect spot that makes you moan even louder. Eyes fixated on you with a quirked brow, followed by a breathy laugh. “If you keep being so loud, everyone’s gonna know how good you are at taking fingers, huh?”
You're really trying here, but you can't keep quiet. His teasing words only turn you on even more and make you clench around his digits, feeling your climax approaching at a rapid speed.
“Sorry.” You croak. “It feels so good.”
“I can tell, you’re clenching tightly. How are you going to take my cock?”
He seems to love teasing, as he places kisses on your thighs. Who would've thought? He's apparently not the same gentleman in bed, and you love it.
“I can do it. I will do it.”
Joshua stares at you with both pride and amusement. It’s almost enough to hide the fact that his dick is hard as a rock, but since he’s not trying to hide it, you promptly watch as his free hand moves to palm himself over his clothes.
“Then come for me, so we can make it happen.”
You should probably be more obedient, but you're so desperate you move your hands to the hem of his shirt to lift it up slightly and he quickly takes it off with a chuckle. The sight is hypnotizing, muscles divinely built for your hands to touch, smooth skin screaming to be kissed, and your mouth is watering.
Extending your hand, you run it over his torso, fingers dancing across his abs and chest as he sits on his ankles. The tight knot on your stomach soon releases with the sight of the naked man in front of you, and you reach your climax with chants of his name. Your back arching, legs shaking.
“That’s it. Such a good girl.” He praises, helping you ride out of your peak.
While you try to catch your breath, he pulls his fingers out of you and brings them to his lips to lick them clean. You almost whimper again, 'cause how can someone like him, so sweet and gentlemanly, be so dirty and hot.
Your hands fly to the back of his neck and pull him into a heated kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. Your hands run down the soft skin of his back.
He breaks the kiss to look at you, panting, clearly way too aroused to keep holding back, so he pulls back and gets rid of his pants and boxers. There you see him, standing free and hard, pink at the head and leaking with arousal. You can’t hold back the wish to touch him, hand flying to wrap around his shaft to pump his length.
He lets out the prettiest moan you could’ve heard, which impulses you to apply more pressure on his shaft. Sitting up, your lips wrap around the head of his cock, gentle sucks and twirls of your tongue sending him into a frenzy. You tug up and down, pointed tongue running over the leaking slit, the salty precum filling your tastebuds.
Joshua looks down at you, ragged breath as he places his gentle hand on the back of your head. You lick a stripe of his length from the base to the head, looking up at him and pressing your thighs together in search of some relief when you witness the blissful expression on his face. Pushing his length further down your throat, you almost choke in hopes to hear more of his luscious sounds.
He's quick to pull you away from him, and you frown. He kisses your lips, licking on your tongue and making you moan against his mouth before he pulls back.
"Love that you're so eager to suck my cock, baby, but if I let you continue, I won't last."
What a filthy fucking mouth he has.
“Fuck, Shua. Please baby, please take me already.”
Joshua bites his already swollen lip, moving your hand away from his length to wrap it in his own and place it at your entrance.
“You ready?”
He starts slowly pushing himself into you as soon as you nod. The tightness of your clamping walls makes him choke a moan of his own, as he waits for you to adjust to his size. You take advantage of the moment to start placing open-mouthed kisses on his neck and shoulder. 
Soon he starts to move his hips, making your head spin with the rhythm of his thrusts. You cling onto his body, wrapping your legs around his waist to press him further into you as soon as he bottoms out. Joshua supports his body with one of his arms beside your head, the free one holding onto your waist as his pace starts quickening.
“Shit, so tight.” He moans, snapping his hips against yours and hitting all the right spots. Truthfully, you could cream again by just hearing the sounds he's making. “You were made for me, to take my cock.” He adds, jaw tightening as he moves his hand to interlace his fingers with yours.
“So good, so big.” You cry out. “I’ve belonged to you since the day I saw you.”
He's leaning down after a breathy curse, kissing you again, a bit sloppier, tongues playing as his hips continue speeding up.
You hope in the back of your mind that no one can hear the sounds of skin slapping against skin, however, you’re far too gone to really care.
“If I had known sooner…” He grunts, hand sliding down to find your clit to rub on it with the pads of his fingers. You scratch his back as he continues. “All this time pining over you but thinking you were not really interested.” He confesses, a particular thrust of his hips making you cry out again. “I deserve all the teasing.”
“Fuck, Joshua, I’m so close.” It's a whole trail of whimpers and moans that you let out between each sentence, pressing his sweaty body against yours. “Been harboring these feelings for so long, Joshua, fuck.”
You’re soon grabbed by the waist and flipped over to straddle him. His head against the headrest and hands on your hips. 
“Ride me like that. Shit.” He orders in between moans, biting his lip as his hand roams up and down your back. “I wanna be in so deep.”
You roll your hips, bouncing every now and then as your hands find leverage on his strong and broad shoulders.
"Oh my fucking God.”
“Cum baby, and milk me dry. Show me how much you mean it.” He demands through gritted teeth, rubbing again on your clit. “How much you’ve wanted me all this time.”
And as if it was a magic spell, you come undone around him, legs shaking and back arching. You bite your lip so hard it draws blood, but you don’t care. 
Your walls clench around him hard enough for him to cum right after you with a throaty groan. His hot seed spills inside you in thick spurts, painting your walls white. A few more sloppy thrusts and you’re soon collapsing onto his clammy chest. His heart is racing, but so is yours.
Joshua's strong arms wrap around you, soft caresses on your back as you remain connected for a while.
When the two of you manage to regain your composure, he pulls out of you and helps you lay on your back, turning around to look into your eyes. He looks at you silently, full of adoration at your flushed face.
"What is it?"
He shakes his head, smile remaining on his face.
"Just admiring."
A light snort escapes from you, not an offensive one, and he knows. He's well aware of your shyness, of the pink on your cheeks.
"Admiring? Me?" You chuckle, but admittedly flattered. "Have you seen yourself?"
His perfectly shaped brow quirks at that, before he quickly glances down at himself.
"Yes. You. Actually, I see myself every day in the mirror."
Clicking your tongue, you turn to your side, meeting his gaze.
"I mean..." You trail off. "I know to you it's nothing, but like, you're so so good looking. Like, incredibly so. And I'm not saying this because you're now my boyfriend or because I'm biased, I just genuinely think that if there was a human form for perfection, it'll look like-"
"I love you."
You stop ranting, looking up at him. He's just smiling, and you don't think someone has ever looked at you this way. With so much love.
"What?"
He chuckles, big hands moving to cup your cheeks.
"I said I love you."
You could cry. You think you might, and perhaps, you're actually tearing up, but it's well hidden by the grin on your face, same grin he starts kissing right after.
"I love you, too." You finally say in between kisses.
Once the kiss breaks, It's hard for you to keep your eyes open, but you try your best to look at his post-climax glory.
“That was intense, by the way. And the four letter word at the end? The cherry on top.”
Joshua smiles, tongue darting out to wet his lips.
“Just wait until we wake up in a couple of hours.”
Cheeks heating up instantly, you start laughing.
He leans down and kisses you one more time, much more slowly, then pulls back, placing a small peck on your forehead, then standing up from the bed.
You watch as he puts his sweats and boxers back on. Wrapping the sheets around your body as he goes to the bathroom and comes back with a towel. He doesn’t need to turn the lights on, considering that the sun is already up. He smiles at you and gently cleans you up, sharing a few kisses before he helps you dress again. A protest is what he receives, too tired to move, however, he just chuckles.
“Come on, love. It’s freezing cold. Let me dress you up so we can sleep, yeah?”
With a groan, you end up sitting up and letting him help you. Soon after that, you’re both falling asleep together on your bed.
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“Okay, this was definitely a memorable experience.” Seokmin says, as everyone gets the luggage into the vans.
“It was fun!” Soonyoung agrees, placing his arm around Vernon’s shoulder.
“Well, except for Joshua hyung giving it to our favorite girl til early in the fucking morning.”
You smack Seungkwan across the head and he rubs the sore spot.
“Shut the fuck up. You heard nothing.”
“At least someone was getting laid,” Mingyu adds.
“Are we ready to leave? I really don’t feel like discussing someone’s sexual escapades this early in the morning.”
Of course, it'll be the dad of the group cutting the shit out.
You bid the two girls goodbye, promising to keep in contact and visit soon. thanking them for everything they did.
When everyone’s already inside their vans, you wave at the girls and go back to your seat. Fastening your seatbelt, you look at Jeonghan, who looks back at you with a smirk.
When he least expects it, you place a smooch on his cheek.
Taken aback, his hand moves to touch the place where the kiss landed.
“What was that for?”
You just shrug. “You’re my best friend and I love you.”
Jeonghan can only roll his eyes.
“I was going to tease you for getting some, but that was actually sweet.”
You respond with a chuckle, grabbing his hand and interlacing your fingers together.
“Of course you would, bestie.”
You soon meet eyes with Joshua, who smiles before grabbing your other hand and interlacing your fingers, bringing it to his lips and kissing on the back of it. 
Then, Jeonghan suddenly grabs your face and places a loud smooch on your cheek, making you gasp and laugh out loud, disbelief written on your face.
“Just to remind Joshua he has to share. Don’t expect this gesture to happen very often, though.”
You laugh and rest your head on your boyfriend’s shoulder, still holding both of your favorite boys’ hands.
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kissohee · 5 months
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bestfriend!perv!anton x fem!reader ☆ nsfw ; wc : 700 ☆ short one-shot mdni!
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Anton knows he's wrong, it may not seem like it but he does. He also knows he cant help the way he thinks of you. You're his bestfriend, so obviously it's occurred to him that thinking about you in the way that he does, is very clearly wrong. But to him that's also part of the fun. And you don't know, which just turns him on even more. You would never guess that shy & sweet Anton Lee, fantasizes about fucking you at the dead of night. You would never guess he thinks about you in the shower, or when he's watching porn, or every time he closes his eyes. and thats exciting to him. But he's also not much of a risk taker, unless he's extremely desperate.
Anton tosses and turns in his bed, struggling to fall asleep. You wore a skirt today and of course he struggled to keep his dick down every time he looked at you. And oh did he look a lot. He noticed the way your skirt wasn't long enough to cover your thighs, and how badly he wanted to bend you over the first surface he could find. The thought of you was keeping him up, quite literally. He was supposed to be sleeping, but between his thoughts and his boner, he was having too much trouble doing so. So he lowered his pants, freed his cock from his boxers and tried fixing his problem. His hand started pumping his cock, but he knew this wasn't gonna be enough. So he imagined that instead of his hand wrapped around his cock, it was your cunt, and you had that same exact skirt on. But for some reason, unlike most days, it wasn't getting him anywhere. He would normally just drop it and go to sleep if it wasn't working out, but his hard on was becoming too painful to just drop. He reached that level of desperation where he was willing to take a risk. Would it really be so bad of him to call you like this? Just so he could hear your voice? He concluded that as long as you didn't find out, it wouldn't. So using his other hand, he grabbed his phone and went to your contact before calling you. To his surprise, you actually answered. "Anton?" You called out to him sleepily, "It's 3 in the morning, is everything alright?" "Y-yea," he held down a groan, "Yea sorry, couldn't sleep. Thought maybe you were up." He tightens the grip on his cock, he already felt so much closer to release upon hearing you. "Oh," You paused, "Do you want me to talk to you or someth-" "Yes, p-please," He interrupted you with a whine. "Alright." He heard you shuffle in your bed, assuming you were getting into a comfier position before you started talking about something he wasn't fully listening to. He just needed to hear your voice without actually paying attention to the contents of the conversation. The longer you talked, the faster his hand sped up. Knowing there was a possibility you could hear every little thing he was doing on the other line, only made him want to cum more. He choked down his moans as he got closer to his release, the sound of your voice filling his head. "Shi-shit." He softly moaned as cum shot out of his cock and onto his stomach. His head ringing as he slowly came back to the reality that he was still on a call with you. The call was still going, but it was only silence from your end. Did he not realize you stopped talking? "Anton?" You say his name softly and he curses under his breath, thinking he was caught. "Are you okay?" "Oh yeah sorry, just saw the time. It's super late, I think I should go to bed now." He quietly lied, hoping you'd believe it. "Okay," You agreed before speaking again, "Call me if you ever need help with that again." You joked before hanging up, leaving Anton in the silence of his room. He looked at the cum on his hand and stomach, he might be just a little fucked up.
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im a lover of perv!anton and needed to write about him immedeatly. this is my second writing woohoo! - 🐠
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theostrophywife · 5 months
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kiss with a fist | chapter six.
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masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist
pairing: theodore nott x reader.
song inspiration: w.i.t.c.h. - devon cole
author's note: some cute soft fluff cause i'm in a tender mood.
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In all your years at Hogwarts, you could count the amount of times you’ve attended a quidditch game on one hand and you wouldn't even need to utilize all of your fingers. Needless to say, you weren’t really into the rowdiness and belligerence of sporting events, but a bargain was a bargain. You were just glad to have Luna with you. Even if it meant enduring Pansy Parkinson’s presence. 
“Be nice,” Luna warned as you approached the stands. 
“I won’t bite if she doesn’t,” you murmured back. 
Luna nodded, knowing that it was the closest thing to an agreement she was ever going to get out of you. Despite your surliness, your friend seemed to brighten the minute she spotted Pansy. In a sea of blue and gold, the dark haired witch was the only one clad in green and silver. Your housemates kept exchanging wary glances at the Slytherin in their midst, but they were wise enough to keep their mouths shut. 
You watched quietly as Pansy and Luna exchanged pleasantries. While your friend was generally a bubbly person, she seemed extra giddy as she spoke. There was something about the way that she softened that convinced you to ease up on the scowls. It must have been contagious, because Pansy actually smiled and it wasn’t a derisive sneer or a smug smirk, but a genuine smile. You didn’t even know the witch was capable of it. 
Finally, she seemed to take stock of your presence. The dark haired girl jutted her chin out proudly, her aristocratic features schooled into forced neutrality. It occurred to you that Pansy probably received a similar warning to attempt decency. 
“Y/N,” she said. 
“Pansy,” you replied. 
The two of you eyed each other. Sizing up your opponent. The eagle versus the snake, claws against teeth. The staredown was purely psychological warfare. 
You squinted. Hurt her and I’ll maim you. 
The silent warning didn’t seem to offend Pansy. Instead, she gave a subtle nod of her chin and made way for you and Luna to sit. You settled in, trying not to peer down at the drop. Heights had never really been your thing. 
Pansy observed you curiously as Luna patted your arm. “Y/N’s not a big fan of heights.” 
“Oh?” Parkinson asked. 
“I generally prefer solid ground. It reduces the chances of me falling and breaking my neck.” The corner of Pansy’s mouth quirked. “What about you, Parkinson? Are you keen on flying?” 
“A bit.” 
Luna brightened. “She’s being modest. Pansy here is a very talented flyer. She’s got an Abraxan named Circe.”
“The most powerful witch to ever live,” you noted. “She used to turn men into swine.” 
“A lost art, really.” 
You smirked. “The classic femme fatale. A personification of the dangers of femininity. They always paint powerful women in a terrible light, don’t they?” 
“Perhaps it makes the men feel better about their own inadequacies.” 
“We’re always making men feel better about their inadequacies,” you answered thoughtfully. “Convenient that the myths fail to mention that Circe was one of the first pharmakis. Modern magic would not be what it is without her extensive knowledge of herbs and plants and yet she’s rarely credited in any potions books we read.”
Pansy nodded, eyeing you in amusement. “I can see why Nott has taken a liking to you.” 
You turned to Luna who immediately shook her head. Pansy laughed. “Don’t worry, Lovegood didn’t tell me a thing. She didn’t have to. Theodore never stops talking about you, you know.” 
There was no hiding the flush that crept up to your cheeks. “We’re both vying for the top spot in Slughorn’s class. I assume he has a lot to say about his competition.” 
“It’s more than that,” Pansy said. “I’ve known Theodore since birth and I’ve never seen him put this much effort into anything. He’s always been naturally talented at potions, given his mum’s background, but you challenge him. For the first time in a long time, he’s found someone who’s actually up to par. I, for one, enjoy watching you put him in his place.” 
You smiled. “I quite enjoy it too.” 
Luna looked at you, then at Pansy before a huge grin graced her lips. It was obvious that she was pleased at the sight of her best friend and her…potential more-than-friend getting along.
The game started not long after. Your comprehension of the rules were rudimentary at best, but Luna made sure to explain as best as she could. From what you gathered, there were four positions: seeker, beater, chaser, and keeper. The chasers attempted to score as many goals as they could by throwing the quaffle through the posts, which the keepers guarded. The beaters used the bludgers to disrupt the other players. The seeker, on the other hand, needed to catch the golden snitch. All while floating on a broom hundreds of feet in the air. 
This match, Pansy explained, had been anticipated to be the most brutal of the season. The enmity between the Gryffindors and the Slytherins translated very clearly on the field. While there had always been a divide of support between the other houses, you could tell that the majority of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff stands were cheering for the Gryffindors. 
You wondered how that made the Slytherins feel. Three houses against one. After the war, Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic droned on and on about the importance of unity and reconciliation. Professor Slughorn even delivered a speech during your first potions class, but the disparity between words and actions were painfully obvious. 
The rest of the school still mistrusted the Slytherins. If any of them cared, you wouldn’t have been able to tell. Especially not as they played. The quidditch team was deadly. You watched as green and silver robes whizzed past, familiar names sprawled on the jerseys. Malfoy, Zabini, Riddle, Berkshire, Warrington, Rosier, and Nott. 
Theo winked as he flew past your portion of the stands. You rolled your eyes, but held your breath as he careened towards one of the goal posts. Ron Weasley stood guard, squinting suspiciously at Theo. The flash of the quaffle was too fast for your eyes to follow, but it sliced the air all the same, slipping through an opening above Ron’s shoulder. The redhead cursed as Theo gave him a mocking bow. 
Pansy was the lone witch in your section to cheer for the Slytherins. Luna joined her in solidarity when the crowd grew quiet. Suspicious glances were cast in your direction, which you rebuffed with a menacing glare. They all found something else to look at rather quickly. 
Displeasure rippled over the crowd as the Slytherins kept scoring. Theo was an unstoppable force. Warrington and Riddle flanked him at each side, throwing bludgers at anyone who attempted to thwart his efforts. The other two chasers, Berkshire and Zabini, circled around them in an aerial formation that confused the opposing team. The Gryffindors grew increasingly frustrated when Evangeline Rosier kept rebuffing their attempts to score. 
Both teams played well, but the Slytherins were ruthless, tactical, and efficient. They used the opposing team’s weaknesses against them. The Gryffindors tended to be over reactive and Theo used it to his advantage. He baited them into making rash plays, which left openings for him and the other chasers to exploit. 
By the end of the game, it was Berkshire who scored the winning goal. The discrepancy between the cheers and booing was insurmountable, but Pansy didn’t seem to care. She cheered for the team louder than anyone. As the win was formally announced, you heard murmurs coming from below you. 
“Stupid Death Eater bitch.” 
From the corner of your eye, you saw Pansy tense. Luna’s mouth hung agape as she wheeled around to identify the foul mouthed culprit. You were quicker. 
“What did you just say?” you asked in a deathly quiet voice.
The conversations around you stopped as you faced Romilda Vane. The smug faced witch crossed her arms, her scarlet and gold scarf billowing in the wind as she looked up at the three of you. 
“You heard me,” Romilda said in a haughty voice. “Her father was one of the Dark Lord’s staunchest supporters. As were the Malfoys and Notts. Not to mention Riddle. How he was allowed back at school is a mystery to me. They should all be in Azkaban.” 
Your ears began to ring. The crowd parted as you descended the bleachers, bringing you face to face with Romilda. “I wasn’t aware that you’d recently earned a place in the Wizengamot. For all your prattling, you’d think you were the Chief Warlock.” 
She cowered under your glare, but doubled down as she looked towards her friends. “I’m only saying what everyone else is thinking. As far as I’m concerned, the Slytherins should be punished for their crimes.” 
“I hardly think you’re speaking from any moral high ground, Romilda. Didn’t you try to dose Potter with Amortentia in sixth year?”
Romilda reddened as she sputtered nonsense. The students around you snickered, but all you could hear was the rush of blood in your ears. You clenched your fists so tightly that your nails dug painfully into your palms. If you hadn’t, you might’ve punched that stupid smirk right off of her face. 
But you knew that physical violence was not the answer. There were far more strategic ways to land a blow and you were an expert in this type of warfare. 
“I suppose Harry’s lucky that your potion making is about as incompetent as your critical thinking skills. Now move before I make you.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing getting tangled up with all those snakes. They’ll sink their teeth into your back the second you turn it.” 
“One of them is worth ten of you. At least the Slytherins fought to defend the castle instead of running off like a coward. They may have teeth, but at least they know how to use them. You’re all roar and no bite.” 
“You’re a bitch, Y/N.” 
You reared back, baring your teeth. “Oh you have no idea, Vane. But I’d be glad to demonstrate.” 
Romilda held her ground. For a split second, you weighed the consequences of harming a fellow student versus the satisfaction of pummeling Romilda to the ground. Luckily for the idiotic Gryffindor, Luna gently gripped you by the elbow. 
“It’s not worth it, Y/N.” 
You looked at your friend who wore an expression of concern. Beside her, Pansy didn’t say a word. She was utterly silent, almost resigned like she encountered this treatment on a daily basis. We all pay the price, Theo had said. 
Without another word, you nodded and bulldozed through Romilda as you exited the stands. It was only when the three of you reached the ground when you finally realized that you were shaking from anger. 
“Are you alright, Pans?” Luna asked, clasping Parkinson’s hand. 
Pansy shrugged. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, Luna. If I let the opinion of an airheaded twat affect my day, I’d never have a good one again.” 
“Are you sure—” Luna fretted. 
Pansy smiled gently and squeezed her hand in assurance. “Truly, I’m alright. The only thing upsetting me at the moment is that I’ve left my scarf up there running from those hags. Would you mind getting it for me, Lu?” 
Your friend still looked worried, but she nodded and made the trek back up. You and Pansy stood in silence, watching as the last of the crowd trickled out of the stands. 
“Vane had no right to say that,” you said. It came out harsher than you expected. 
“At least she had the gall to say it to my face,” Parkinson stated with a shrug. “I don’t know if that makes her brave or stupid.” 
“Gryffindors often have trouble making the distinction.” 
The dark haired witch laughed. “You didn’t have to do that, you know. As moronic as she is, Vane is right. She was only voicing the opinion of the masses."
“But you fought in the final battle. I saw you rallying the others against the Death Eaters. Romilda wasn’t even there. She didn’t even fight.”
Pansy sighed. “A lot of good that did. I had to watch my friends duel against their own parents and yet this entire school still mistrusts us. I suppose I can’t blame them. The majority of the Dark Lord’s followers were produced by our house.”
“Not all Slytherins are bad. The world isn’t so black and white,” you said adamantly. “Most of us operate in the gray areas, whether we admit it or not. The only difference is that you lot don’t try to hide it.” 
“Yes, but a snake is a snake. Even when we shed our skin, they still see deception when they look at us.” 
“And you’re willing to just accept that?” 
Parkinson gave you a pointed look. What choice did she have? What choice did any of them have? 
After a beat of silence, you cleared your throat. “Are you sure you’re alright? Luna’s worried.” 
“I assure you, being villainized isn’t anything new to me. I suppose that’s why I named my horse after Circe," Pansy mused thoughtfully. "It’s better for them to believe that I’m some sort of evil sorceress than to realize that I am more shackled by my circumstances than I could ever be at Azkaban. My family name is a collar around my neck, waiting to choke me at any moment, but they’re so blinded by their own misconceptions that all they see are my teeth. I prefer it that way.”
“Oderint dum metuant.”
"Let them hate, as long as they fear." A faint smile bloomed on Pansy’s lips. "That’s awfully Slytherin of you to say. Are you sure you’re in the right house, Y/N?”
You chuckled. A beat of silence followed as understanding passed between you. Perhaps you had more in common with Pansy Parkinson than you thought. 
When Luna returned, the two of them tried to convince you to join them at the common room party, but you declined. You weren’t really in the mood to be around people. 
“You two go ahead. I’ll catch up later.” 
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As the sun set over the school grounds, you found yourself at the Black Lake. Dusk tinged the horizon with pink and purple and the fluffy white clouds hung low enough to kiss the dark water. You settled at the end of the dock and dipped your toes into the lake, watching as the motion made ripples across the surface. Maybe it was unwise to linger here given that the lake was home to the merpeople and the giant squid, but they would be far in the depths and you were honestly too knackered to care. 
Sighing, you pulled out a silver flask from your robes. You had initially brought it for the after party, but it would’ve been a shame to let the firewhisky go to waste. 
“Illegal contraband?” A familiar voice teased just as the wood gave way beside you. Theo bumped his shoulder against yours as he sat. “I didn’t know you had it in you, Y/N.”
“Yeah, well maybe your idiotic tendencies are rubbing off on me.” 
“I’d like to rub more than just my tendencies on you.” 
You rolled your eyes and handed him the flask. “Just fucking drink, Theodore.” 
He grinned before taking a swig. You chuckled at the face he made from the burn of the Ogden’s. “That is straight up liquor," Theo remarked through his coughing fit. "You're out of control, diavolina. Should I be concerned?”
“We’re celebrating,” you said. “At least you should be. That was quite a win out there. I didn’t expect you to be so….efficient.” 
“Careful, Y/N. That was almost a compliment.” 
You shrugged. “To be fair, I haven’t been to a game in years. You could’ve been absolutely rubbish and I’d still think it was a feat that you managed to stay seated on that broom.” 
“Well, it is a pretty important component of quidditch. Did you at least attempt to enjoy yourself?” 
“It was a brutal game. There’s a lot more strategy and planning that goes into quidditch than I initially thought. It’s like chess, but you’re allowed to hit people. I had a blast.” 
Theo chuckled. “I should’ve known you’d get a kick out of all that violence.” 
Warmth spread through your body as you took another swig. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating your win at the party?” 
His fingers brushed yours as you handed the flask back to him. “I’m where I want to be.” 
This time, you weren’t sure if it was the firewhisky or Theo’s presence making you flush. The two of you kept drinking in silence as you peered up at the sky. Back home in London, you never would’ve been able to see the stars this clearly. They glittered in the night sky like tiny diamonds etched through the darkness. 
“I heard about what happened earlier,” Theo said after a moment. 
You weren’t surprised. Word traveled fast around this school. “Luna told you?” 
“No. Pansy did.” He shifted, turning over to look at you. Like a moth drawn to a flame, you did too. “You did a good thing, Y/N. You stood up for Pansy. I can’t thank you enough.” 
“I was only doing what anyone else would’ve done.” 
“No. You weren’t.” Theo set the flask down. “No one else would’ve come to her defense. Pansy, she’s the strongest one out of all of us. Draco, Mattheo, and I, we can always resort to punches when we’re insulted, but Pansy doesn’t have that option. She just has to sit there and take it. It means a lot that someone spoke up for her.”
“I did the bare minimum.”
“It still meant a lot.” 
“There’s no need to thank me for—”
Theo sighed in exasperation. “For Salazar’s sake, will you just take my gratitude without arguing?”
You bit back a smile. “Fine. I acknowledge your gratitude.” 
You downed the rest of the flask as Theo lit a cigarette. The flame from that curious Zippo flickered in the darkness as smoke filled the air.
“So,” Theo started, taking a deep inhale. “Are you ready for the slug club dinner next week? I’m not even invited to the bloody thing and yet I still know every detail thanks to McLaggen’s incessant prattling. What a twat.” 
“Cormac is kind of a twat, isn’t he?” you asked, giggling as the alcohol started taking its effect. “I heard that he kisses like a fork tongued lizard.” 
Theo’s eyes flashed. “You better not know that firsthand.” 
You wrinkled your nose. “I wouldn’t go near McLaggen’s mouth with a ten foot broom.” 
“Good. I can rest easy that you won’t be replacing me with a reptilian snogger.”
“You can rest easy either way. I’m not going to that dinner.” 
Theo paused, the cigarette hanging haphazardly from between his lips. “What do you mean you’re not going?” 
“It’s a pretty straightforward sentence, Nott. I will not be attending Professor Slughorn’s ridiculous dinner.” 
“You have to go,” he declared firmly. 
“I’m confused. Do you want me to snog the lizard or not?” 
Theo frowned. “Do not snog McLaggen unless you want me to turn him into an actual reptile.” He exhaled and smoke curled around his lips. “You can’t miss that dinner.”
“I have no interest in attending.” 
He stared at you, his gaze fixed with determination. “Is this about what Slughorn said the other day?” 
You picked at your fingers, avoiding his eyes. “It’s probably going to be boring, anyways. Just a pissing contest for us to compare our grades and achievements like we’re puppets on a string.” 
“You should still go.” 
“Why?” you asked, a bit irritated that Theo was pushing for this so hard. You would’ve thought that he of all people would understand your choice. “Why would I subject myself to be part of something that judges people based on prejudice rather than merit?”
Theo’s expression softened. “Because it’ll raise your chances of joining the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. That’s your dream, isn’t it?”
You reeled back in surprise. “How do you know about that?” 
He rolled his eyes. “You only talk about it a thousand times a day.” Theo raised his brow in challenge. “Slughorn’s one of the most influential members. If you go to the dinner, it might solidify a formal invitation.” 
Theo was right. You didn’t want him to be, but he was right. Under any other circumstance, you would’ve sabotaged and plotted and schemed for a way in. This was an opportunity to distinguish yourself from your fellow classmates, so why were you hesitating?
You knew why. You were looking right at him.
“I’ll drag you there myself if I have to,” Theo declared. 
You sighed. There was no way he was going to let this go. “Fine, I’ll think about it.” 
Theo smiled triumphantly. You kicked at the water, sending a wave across the still lake. “You know, if Slughorn knew that you were a Marchesi, he’d probably fall all over himself to recruit you. Hell, anyone would. You’re practically guaranteed a place at the Society, too.”
Theo shrugged nonchalantly. “Where would the fun be in that?” 
“I’m serious, Nott. It could open up doors for you.”
He sighed. “That’s exactly why I’ve kept the knowledge to myself. I’m tired of everyone judging me based on my family, good or bad. I want to accomplish something that’s solely mine. Not Nott, not Marchesi. Just Theo.”
“That’s uncharacteristically noble of you.”
“I told you, I’m not just a pretty face. I’m also rich, witty, intelligent, athletic, etc. Honestly, the list goes on and on.”
You snorted. “Just don’t expect humble to be part of that little myriad, Theo.”
Theo paused. The moment of silence swelled between you like an errant wave. Then, a huge smile broke out on his face. 
“What?” you asked. 
“You called me Theo.”
“Well, that is your name. Has quidditch concussed you so severely that you’ve forgotten?
He responded with an eye roll. “I’m perfectly lucid, thank you very much. Well, besides the firewhisky. I’m a little bit sloshed from that, but not sloshed enough to not notice you call me by my actual name. Not Theodore, not Nott, not twat, not oh god—”
“I get it, Theo.”
His grin grew wider. “There it is again. Theo.”
“It’s just a name, nothing special.”
“It is when you’re the one saying it.” 
“Oh, shut up.”
The satisfied smirk on his face refused to budge even as the sky grew darker. The two of you sprawled out on the dock, staring up at the sky and enjoying the comfortable silence. Theo toyed with his lighter, rubbing his thumb over the spark wheel, which caused the flame to flicker on and off.
You stared at the lighter, vision blurring from the alcohol. “Why do you have that thing?”
“I told you, Mattheo’s a little thief.” 
“No, I mean I know the reason. But I just can’t figure out why.” 
Theo scrunched his brows in confusion. “Are you sure you’re not the one concussed?” 
“Would a concussed person be able to do this?”
You propped yourself up on your elbows and slightly flipped to the side. The action made your hair come loose. 
“What in Merlin’s name am I supposed to be looking at right now?” 
“I’m obviously doing a cartwheel,” you deadpanned. “Aren’t I?” 
Theo chuckled. “You are one drunk witch, Y/N.” 
“M’not drunk.” He raised a brow. “Fine, maybe I’m a tiny bit bevved, but you’re the one avoiding my question.”
“Sorry,” Theo said rather unapologetically. “I’m a bit distracted at the moment.” 
“By what?” 
“Your hair,” he murmured softly. Theo reached out and toyed with a loose strand, twisting a long lock between his fingers. He swallowed thickly, his voice lower and huskier than it was a minute ago. “You should wear it down more often.” 
“It’s a hassle.” 
He swept it over your shoulder, knuckles brushing your cheek. “It’s beautiful.” 
Your cheeks warmed. Whether from the alcohol or his touch, you couldn’t differentiate. “Stop deflecting, Nott.” 
Theo rolled his eyes. “Relentless witch. Can’t you see I’m trying to have a moment here?” 
You gave him a pointed look. Theo sighed before handing over his lighter. Up close, you could see that the silver was worn and dented. It looked much older than you initially thought. To your surprise, Theo silently waved his wand and the lighter transformed into a heart shaped locket. 
“When my nonna gave me the grimoire, it came with this. It was Alessandra’s old locket. She treasured it more than the grimoire itself.” 
“What’s so special about it?” 
“Open it.” 
Your fingers stilled. “Are you sure?”
“Don’t get shy now, diavolina. You wanted to know and now I’m telling you.” 
You hesitated for a moment before curiosity got the best of you. The locket popped open easily. Inside was a picture of a dark haired woman standing next to a man with watercolor eyes and thick brown curls. The couple looked at each other with love and adoration in their eyes. 
“That’s Alessandra, obviously. The man was Damiano, her closest friend, the mad scientist of the village, and the cleverest muggle she’d ever met. He helped author the grimoire.” 
“I never knew that Alessandra had help with her inventions.” 
Theo nodded. “As my family intended. They didn’t approve of her relationship with Damiano, but she didn’t care. They fell madly in love and eventually married.” 
“How is it possible that no one knew about him?”
“Damiano was born with a unique illness that was incurable even with magic. Alessandra poured years of her life into finding a cure, but in the end he succumbed to it. She passed away only a year after him. My nonna said that she died of a broken heart.” Theo took the chain and traced his fingers over the picture. “They left behind two young children who were eventually raised by Alessandra’s parents. Their son and daughter grew up not knowing who their father was. The Marchesis did everything in their power to keep the knowledge to themselves. They didn’t want anyone to know that their great bloodline was tainted by a muggle.” 
Theo bowed his head in shame. He avoided your gaze, choosing to look out at the Black Lake instead. “There it is. The secret that my family has guarded for centuries. The sad part is that some of them still hold those bigoted beliefs, so when people assume the worst of me, I can’t blame them. The Marchesis, the Notts, either way you look at it, there’s bad blood coursing through my veins.” 
“That’s not true, Theo,” you said softly. “You know I don’t think that of you, right?” 
“I wouldn’t blame you if you did. Everyone else does.” 
“Well, I don’t,” you said firmly. “You said it earlier. Family isn’t all that a person amounts to. When I look at you, I don’t see a Nott or a Marchesi. I just see Theo.” 
“I don’t deserve that,” he whispered. The saddest part was that you were sure he meant it. “My great great great grandmother fell in love with a muggle and how did my family repay her for it? They blotted him out of existence.” 
The starlight caressed his forlorn expression with its silver glow, painting a heartbreaking depiction of Theo that you had never seen before. It reminded you of that day in the potions lab when he was talking about his mother. There was such an openness and vulnerability in him then that was present now as well and you realized why he looked at you the way he did that day. 
Theo hadn’t been waiting for you to give him an out. He wanted—no, he needed a friend and you had been too scared to step up then, but you weren’t now. You could be that for him. You wanted to be that for him. A friend. 
Without second guessing yourself, you reached out in the space between you and grabbed hold of his hand. Theo stared at your intertwined fingers in surprise. 
“The love between Damiano and Alessandra lives on,” you said with a small smile. “In their children and their children’s children. In…you.” 
Those watercolor eyes, the very same ones that you had grown so familiar with shone with emotion. Unlike the day in the lab, Theo didn’t put up his mask of cockiness and arrogance and you realized with a start that you didn’t want him to. 
He smiled and squeezed your hand gently. “Yes, I suppose I inherited Damiano’s affinity for cruel, brilliant witches.”
"Affinity is putting it lightly," you said teasingly. "Admit it. You're obsessed with me, Nott."
You blinked as Theo hovered over you. The weight of his body pressed against yours ignited a flame of fiendfyre in your core. He dipped his head down, his curls tickling your nose. "No, not Nott. Not Theodore. Try that again, diavolina."
You wriggled underneath him, but Theo held your hips in place. He brushed his lips against yours and smirked when you tried to kiss him. His low rumble of laughter sent shivers down your spine. "Say it. Say my name again."
"If I say it, will you stop being a tease?"
Theo kissed your neck and laughed when you pouted in response. "Only one way to find out."
"I'll knee you in the crotch if you do that again, Theo."
He grinned. "There's a good girl," Theo said rather suggestively. You fought the urge to squirm at his words. He peppered kisses along your neck, your jaw, and your cheeks while you burst into a fit of drunken giggles. "For the record, I am obsessed with you, but I think you're a little bit obsessed with me too."
"You wish, Theo."
"You're going to be the death of me," he said huskily as he unbuttoned your cardigan. Theo's eyes were full of mischief as he dipped between your breasts, sucking on your flesh and leaving marks in his wake. "But I'm willing to die a happy man, Y/N."
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idyllic-affections · 7 months
Text
achilles heel.
summary. the ninth harbinger takes on an... unexpected responsibility.
trigger & content warnings. references to poverty, [name] is a thief (at first), slightly ooc pantalone in some parts.
tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff, slight angst, hurt/comfort. pantalone & child/young teen!reader, arlecchino & child/young teen!reader. 3.4k words. they/them pronouns for reader. this fic is divided into six drabble-like sections.
author's thoughts. inspired by a silly conversation @aroacenezha and i had. i dad-ify this man a little too much but you know what? i will keep doing it idc he's so dad-able. this post is structured differently than my usual content but i think it's kind of cool!!!
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i. an unexpected guest ♡
       Of all the possible unexpected things that could await the Regrator in his Snezhnaya residence—one of them, at least; the amount of properties he owned was certainly more than what one could count on both hands—this was... most definitely among one of the more shocking.
       He was speechless, really.
       "Please do humor me. How did you manage to get in?"
       Of all the unexpected things that could await the Regrator in his his home, in his office of all places... thievery in and of itself wasn't unexpected; rather, it was the fact that standing in front of him was undoubtedly a child no older than fourteen. Not only that, but additionally the fact that they were actually standing in his office. They had not been caught. A child, no older than fourteen, possessed more skill than all of the others in the past who had made poor attempts to steal from him.
       "You need better security"—they shrugged, making him somewhat annoyed at their nonchalance—"I really thought it would be hard to rob the richest man on Teyvat. It was harder to rob Lady Ningguang. I actually had to abandon that job, you know? Couldn't get to the Jade Chamber."
       Again, he was left absolutely speechless.
       Being compared to Ningguang made a bitter taste settle in his mouth. He made a mental note to drastically improve the quality of his security.
       "You..."
       "What? It's not my fault all of your agents are incompetent."
       They weren't wrong, he supposed. His agents surely could do better at their jobs. Their smugness still irritated him, though. "Do you routinely rob the wealthy?"
       They scoffed. "You all are hoarding wealth that should never have been yours in the first place. Archons forbid I steal from wicked people who couldn't possibly care less about anyone but themselves... Get over yourself. Seriously."
       He genuinely couldn't tell if they had no sense of danger or if they simply had that sheer amount of audacity by nature. Though, admittedly, he did have to respect the fact that they managed to sneak in completely undetected. If not for his sudden appearance, they most likely would have gotten away with it. Their audacity did irk him a little, but... that was also something he had to respect. It was impressive in its own right. No average Snezhnayan child would so much as dream of talking to a Harbinger the way they did oh-so effortlessly
       It did occur to him, however, that they did not look well-off; they were not the average Snezhnayan child.
       Their hair looked as if it had been haphazardly and unevenly chopped off so that it was too short to become tangled (he did recall doing such a thing himself—at the lowest point in his life, taking care of his hair was a useless endeavor, solely because it did not help better his chances of survival). They were clothed decently enough in layers adequately thick to keep themselves from freezing which, indeed, was also something he understood on a nauseously personal level.
       Most of the mora he managed to earn in his unfortunate youth was invested in... not freezing to death. Through them, he was forced to once again acknowledge his past, a past he endeavored to forget about because it made him feel pathetic.
       ...Or maybe it made him feel like an impostor in his wealth?
       What kind of sick twist of fate had the Archons cursed him with, forcing him to think about such trivial things?
       He should punish them. He should arrest them. He should send them off to Dottore and never spare them another thought ever again, even, but... somehow, he didn't want to. Much as he may have acted as if he couldn't possibly know why, he did.
       The brat reminded him sickeningly of himself.
       "Where do you think you're going?"
       They were half out of his window when he called out to them, having taken advantage of his pondering.
       "To sell what I've taken?"
       He almost rolled his eyes. Almost, but didn't. That would have been immature and inelegant of him. "Come here."
       They would have just left, but truthfully, it would not have been a smart move on their behalf. The only reason they had not yet been caught and apprehended was simply because no-one had spotted them in the first place. Not a single one of their 'victims' had managed to catch a glimpse of them. Now that a Harbinger had seen them...
       They figured it was in their best interests to avoid being pursued by anyone with that much power, especially by someone like Pantalone. A man with that much political influence was dangerous.
       "Show me what it is that you've taken."
       They did.
       A letter opener, a few picture frames... Nothing significant or extremely expensive (though, to them, anything at all from his office would likely be of high value), which is what left Pantalone completely perplexed. He honestly hadn't even noticed that anything was missing from his office when he had first entered.
       Perhaps that was what made them so skilled, combined with their capacity to avoid being seen.
       "Out of everything you could have taken," he mused, "you chose... these inconsequential items?"
       "They're inconsequential to you, maybe. To me and to my buyers, things like this are worth a ton. Whether I'll actually be given what is owed is... uh. More or less likely. I don't know, I just— can I leave yet?"
       "Not so fast, dear." He smiled, tilting his head slightly. They thought he somewhat resembled a fox.
       "...What? Are you seriously going to arrest me for something so little?"
       "Nothing of the sort. In fact... I have a proposal of sorts for you."
ii. the proposal in question. ♡
       "You know, when someone says something ominous like 'I have a proposal for you'," they began, twirling a defiant strand of their now neat hair—which the Harbinger had... shockingly, taken upon himself to cut properly rather than paying someone else to do it—around their finger, "they generally don't mean... all this."
       "Don't be difficult." He pinched their cheek like a scolding (or affectionate, but the nature of his gesture was debatable, given the fact that he tended to hide his thoughts behind a skilled mask of eerie calmness that they could only imagine took years to perfect) grandparent might. "Let the tailor take your measurements."
       "Ugh... fine. I don't even see why I'm doing this," they murmured, gingerly raising their arms when the tailor politely prompted them to.
       "Oh? Did I not say? My apologies. I intend for you to become a permanent resident of my household."
       Silence.
       "...So you're adopting me."
       "That is one way to look at it, yes."
       "Oh. I was... um." They paused, blinking a few times as if in an attempt to dispel the bewilderment they felt. "I was kidding. I didn't expect that response."
       He only smiled.
       They wondered if they would ever learn to understand that ambiguous smile.
iii. another unexpected guest ♡
       Between teaching the newest member of his house noble etiquette, conversational skills, and other important skills they would need to master, Pantalone had grown unexpectedly fond of the little orphan he took in.
       He should have been annoyed by how often they questioned his authority, by how unruly they were...
       Of course, he wasn't. It was endearing and even refreshing in its own way—when was the last time anyone had dared to speak so freely and honestly and daringly to him? The respect rooted in fear that his status as a Harbinger gave him became dull after a while.
       It really shouldn't have surprised him that he had become so fond of the little one who did not fear speaking in the most unfiltered way to him.
       However... he did wonder if his fondness was causing him to spoil them just a little too much.
       "...What is that?"
       They grinned brightly. In their arms, a small arctic fox sat contentedly, strangely unbothered by the fact that a random child decided to pick it up and bring it home. It seemed to snuggle further into them and their warmth, in fact.
       "It's an arctic fox!"
       "My dear, that is a wild animal."
       "And?"
       Silence. Pantalone was the first to break it:
       "I have the ability to acquire any animal you so desire of only the highest pedigree," he began, "the best available on the market—of course, assuming it could survive in an extreme climate such as this one—and yet, you chose to bring home a little street fox?"
       They pouted, lower lip jutting out in an exceedingly childish way that he would have chided them for had it not just been himself, them, and the various Fatui guards stationed around (who all knew far better than to say anything about whatever they saw or heard within their Lord's residence) present. "Don't be mean. I came from the street too, you know... look at her! Look at this little creature! Say hi."
       If it had been anyone else demanding such childish things of him, he would be appalled... but he supposed since it was them, he could tolerate it. He leaned down slightly.
       "Hello."
       Much to his apparent surprise, the fox barked back at him, to which they giggled.
       "Soo, can I keep her?"
       The silence returned for a brief second. Then, the Harbinger sighed deeply—it was undoubtedly comparable to the kind of sigh an exasperated parent might let out. As if he wasn't already going grey enough without this child around...
       He caved to their whims regardless.
       He was encouraging a bad habit, yes, but they looked so happy with that little fox. He could only hope that, in the future, they would not bring home any other wild animals.
       "Very well, but I expect you to learn how to take care of her properly, otherwise I will be forced to let her go."
iv. old habits die hard.
       The first event they ever had to attend with the Regrator was an annual event hosted by the Tsaritsa herself.
       Much as they weren't exactly... keen on going, Pantalone insisted—he had claimed it was for publicity's sake. The public would favor him more if he was seen as the caretaker of a child. They supposed they couldn't really argue with that, but the thought of being used as a device to build public rapport was uncomfortable at best and nauseating at worst.
       (He was very adamant on reassuring them that he didn't take them in solely for such a shallow reason. Though... he still did not tell them why exactly it was that he chose to take them in, which admittedly did make them doubt the sincerity of his words.
       They decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, given how kind he tended to be with them.)
       They absolutely hated being surrounded by so many pompous rich people who only ever turned a blind eye to the struggling of every low-income family in Snezhnaya. How these people could live with themselves, hoarding the majority of the wealth of an entire nation, they would never know nor understand.
       (What made Pantalone any different, they sometimes wondered?)
       However...
       They were all viable targets, even including the other Harbingers present.
       Columbina... there was nothing they could steal off of her without getting caught, and the idea of making a scene, especially one involving the third Harbinger herself, made their stomach churn anxiously. She was not an option.
       Dottore... stealing off of him was unwise. They wondered if Pantalone would lose favor in them if they did. The Doctor, like the Damselette, was not an option, despite the many things they could take off his person without him ever knowing that something was missing (probably; they weren't truly sure if they'd like to test that theory).
       Arlecchino... her silver hairclip was awfully pretty. Surely she wouldn't miss it? She didn't like the Regrator much anyways, so—
       "Dear."
       "Oh. Um." They cleared their throat, embarrassedly looking anywhere but at him. They tried their best not to pick at the threads of their sleeves. "Sorry. Force of habit."
       He hummed, gloved hand raising up to rub reassuring circles on their back. The bubbling anxiety and discomfort in their chest subsided slightly.
       "Come along. There is nothing to be afraid of, and please... do not take anything off of anyone. Leave the Knave and the other Harbingers be."
       Of course, upon passing Arlecchino, they did end up stealing her hairclip regardless.
       Though annoyed, she said nothing of it, because even though their audacity to steal something from a Harbinger at an event such as that one agitated her beyond belief...
       It seemed to make them happy, and she didn't see them take anything from anyone else the entire night. She decided that she would let it slide just this one time.
       (She also took it upon herself to secure it in their hair—which had grown longer and healthier ever since the Ninth took them in—after the event, claiming that it was a gift from her...
       ...And that, if they knew what was good for them, they would not dare to pull another foolish stunt like that ever again.)
v. achilles heel.
       "What is it that plagues your mind?"
       "Huh?" They blinked, sitting up a little straighter in their place on one of the soft sofas in the Ninth's personal library. Most of their time was spent in there, absorbing all the knowledge that they didn't have access to earlier on in their life. "What do you mean?"
       "You've been withdrawn lately," Pantalone said, approaching them slowly as if they were some kind of skittish animal. He tenderly caressed their cheek upon seeing no signs of discomfort. "Have I done something to drive you away?"
       "...No," they admitted quietly, looking outside of the large window and watching the snow fall. It looked... peaceful, but they knew from experience what it was really like out there. They gnawed on their lower lip, searching for a way to word their concerns without sounding ungrateful. "I just... ugh, it's nothing. I don't know. I don't know how to say it without it sounding... bad."
       He raised an eyebrow. His hand moved away from their face, now stroking their hair calmingly. "You speak to me so freely all the time. Why the sudden change of heart, hm?"
       He did have a point there. They never once thought twice about the way they spoke to him up until that point.
       A sigh left their lips, and they shifted their gaze to meet his.
       The way their eyes glistened with the sheen of unshed, frustrated tears made Pantalone feel a sort of fatherly protectiveness that he wasn't sure he should have been able to feel, and yet... their expression flipped some kind of switch in him.
       "Why did you take me in?"
       "I—"
       "Wait, I'm not done," they interrupted. He went quiet. "What benefit do I provide to you? What kind of rich guy sees a random orphaned thief and decides to take them in? Who does that? No rich person I've met before you, that's for sure. People like you don't care about those of us barely scraping by in poor conditions, so why—"
       If it were anyone else Pantalone was speaking to, his tone would have been harsh and commanding, but... that was how it always had been with them. They could get away with things that others could not. They were always shown a side of him that others were not. Perhaps that made them the Regrator's one single Achilles heel, and if that were the case? So be it.
       "Stop. Listen."
       His tone came out very gently. It was more akin to a comforting hush than a demand. He kneeled down to their height—never once had they seen him voluntarily get so close to the ground. Most nobles didn't, and yet, here he was. With his ungloved knuckles, he wiped away the tears that they hadn't even noticed were beginning to fall.
       "I was you once, little one."
       "I don't believe you," they sniffled.
       "You should. I was not born into this life. My bloodline is not noble and my birth name holds no significance," he mused, tucking a stray strand of hair behind their ear. "I also used to steal from people, you know."
       Their hair fell over their shoulders, to which they quickly raised a hand to the back of their head. The clip—once belonging to Arlecchino—was gone, now settled in their caretaker's open palm.
       "H— huh?!"
       "Admittedly, I haven't done so in quite some time, so what you saw just then was moreso the skills I've learned as a Harbinger than my thievery skills."
       He kindly secured their hair back once again.
       "Ah... I never would have guessed."
       "That is the point." He nodded, going on to tease: "You do very much remind me of the younger version of myself... you have quite the awful amount of attitude, though. I was never so difficult."
       They huffed, patting their face dry with their palms, to which he chuckled.
       "Hmph, I doubt that. I'll bet you were worse than I am."
       "Whatever you say, dearest."
       He was, but he had no plans of telling them that, of course.
vi. enrollment.
       "My orphans seem to like you, [Name]."
       They smiled up at Arlecchino from their place on the ground, one of the much younger children sleeping against their thigh. Their hand absently toyed with the child's hair in a manner that seemed akin to that of a loving older sibling. "I like to think they do. They're lucky, then, because I happen to quite like them, too!"
       The ghost of a smile graced her lips at that.
       "You know," she mused calmly, placing a firm hand on their head. They squeaked slightly at the force behind her display of affection. "You are publicly viewed as the Regrator's child."
       "What?!" they gasped, a mix between shocked and embarrassed. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but... "Wait, people are saying that? Actually?"
       "They are," she confirmed, "but I mention this for one very particular reason: do you know how to defend yourself, [Name]?"
       "Somewhat, but not entirely," they admitted. "I learned a lot in my time... um, wandering, shall we call it..? Anyway. I can defend myself, but not really well. Not at all well enough for the place I've found myself in, I think."
       She nodded in understanding at that.
       "Have you considered enrolling in the House of Hearth?"
       "I've thought about it. Would I even qualify, though..? I'm technically not an orphan..."
       "No, but consider it a favor from me. You would get an education of equal rigor to Snezhnayan private schools, as well as learning how to protect yourself."
       "...You would do that for me, Arle?"
       Her cheeks tinted red at that, and she groaned, lightly pushing them away by the head. They giggled at her annoyance.
       "Don't call me that"—she coughed into her fist, trying her best to mask the good-natured embarrassment such a nickname caused her—"but... I would. You need to learn how to handle yourself."
       She then got on one knee, meeting their gaze with intensity that made them a bit nervous. Both her hands sat firmly on their shoulders.
       "What you need to understand, however, is that you will automatically be drafted into the Fatui at your graduation. I do not believe that the Regrator would let you out of his sight at your young age, so you needn't worry about being separated from him, but... you will be exposed to wicked things."
       "...But I need to do this for my safety, right?"
       "You don't 'need' to do anything," she clarified. "I would advise it, though. You are an annoying little brat, but I—as well as the Ninth—would loathe to see anything happen to you."
       "Well... I don't mind enrolling."
       "Oh?"
       "I really don't mind," they repeated, offering her a pensive smile. "I've already seen pretty rough things, and, I mean... I know what you all do for a living. I'm not oblivious, Arlecchino. Any kid born and raised in Snezhnaya would know."
       "I didn't think so," she assured. "No, I never once believed you to be oblivious... that much, I agree with. Childhood innocence does not thrive in this nation."
       "You're right. It doesn't."
       A comfortable silence settled for a moment. Arlecchino's battle-hardened hands were a calming force upon their shoulders.
       "...Soo, how exactly are we planning on convincing Pantalone to let this happen?"
       "Ah." She went quiet. "...That is the question."
please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot! taglist: @m1shapanda, @kaichuuu, @zeldadou, @aroacenezha (aka the beloved moot who inspired this fic. say "thank you maji" everyone 🫶🫶🫶🫶 /hj /lh)
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jishyucks · 8 months
Text
Groceries are Overrated — ldh
‣ pairing: supermarket worker!haechan x customer!reader
‣ genre: fluff, strangers-to-lovers?, sorta slice-of-life
‣ wc: 5.6k
‣ summary: After multiple encounters, you develop a crush on the boy working at your local supermarket. And who knows? Maybe the feeling is mutual.
‣ warnings?: nothing too bad I think!, mentions of hyuck breaking his pinky finger LMAO, jokes of plans to stalk/kidnap (false accusations)
‣ an: uhhhh tell me how I made an entire fic that’s set in a mf grocery store (˶x     x˶);; it genuinely was only supposed to be like 2k or less,, this is how u know that I romanticize EVERYTHING (sigh imagine how easy life would be if situations like these existed)
‣ taglist: @flowerjun @mosviqu
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Your roommate, Karina, had the knack of sending you out to the grocery store against your will. In fact, you couldn't even recall how many times it had occurred in the last month. It feels like you’ve dropped by the store every day on the way home and you’re beginning to think that the employees believe you’re crazy.
But, in all honesty, you couldn’t blame her. After all, no one could resist the taste of your cooking and baking.
So here you were, moving up and down the seemingly endless aisles of the store on a mission to locate cream of tartar for your meringue cookies. 
It was odd because you’d usually find the powder alongside the sugars and spices in a bag or container like salt and pepper. Today, it was nowhere to be found, not even the price tag stuck to the shelves that indicated that it was there, just not in stock.
You sigh and slowly make your way down the aisles, laying your eye on every single item sitting on the shelves. Other customers looked at you like you were crazy, occasionally stretching your neck or lowering yourself into a squatting position just to view the bottom shelves. But at this point, you honestly could not give two shits if you looked looney.
“Did you lose something?” A pair of feet appear in front of you in the middle of your squat. You freeze and look up to see an employee looking down at you. He looks like he’s trying not to laugh, “I’ve seen you go up and down the store like… a lot of times.” 
Your eyes widen and laugh sheepishly. Standing up, you shake your head, “Um, actually I was looking for the cream of tartar! I can’t… seem to find it.”
“In the cereal section?” 
Now that you’re up and standing, you get a better look of the worker in front of you and you recognize him as one of the newer employees of the store. You can only say this with full confidence because you’ve been acquainted with a majority of the staff and most, if not, all were older than forty. This employee, you would say, was around your age. You take a quick glance at his name tag and read it. 
Donghyuck.
“You never know!” You laugh again, this time wishing that the ground would just swallow you whole before the (actually really cute) boy could reply to you. How could you embarrass yourself like this?
Donghyuck lets out a short snort, “It’s in aisle six, you know, with the sugars and spices?” 
It takes you a second to realize that you’re currently in aisle 23. “I looked! I swear it wasn’t there!”
He grins, “Then let me take you.” 
The boy begins walking away from you and you trail not too far behind him. If Donghyuck miraculously brings you to the cream of tartar, you’re going to think that the universe is against you.
He walks about three paces in front of you, strides slightly longer than yours. Although you both did not know each other, you found it a bit awkward walking in silence. “Just a random thought but are you a new worker here?”
Donghyuck slows down and turns to look at you, playing off of your question, “What are you, the owner of this place?” 
“No,” You shake your head and laugh, “I just know a lot of the employees here because I go here a lot.” 
“Ah, makes sense,” Donghyuck hums, “I just started working here last week. My grandma works here and I needed extra money so she got me this job.” 
You make a sound of acknowledgment. This time, you decide to joke, “Ohhh, so you’re a nepo baby! So what do you do? Roam the aisles?” 
He gives you a look, but it’s quickly wiped off of his face when he goes to answer you, “I sorta do everything, so if you do go here a lot, you’ll be seeing me everywhere—ah, here we are.” Donghyuck shuffles over to the rows of spices and uses his finger to follow his place. 
“See, it’s not—”
“Found it!” Donghyuck bends down and snatches a bag of cream of tartar. Then, he turns to hand it over to you, the corners of his lips sitting high on his cheeks. 
“Thanks,” you say, unsure of how to end the interaction.
“You’re welcome,” Donghyuck nods, “Well, it was nice meeting you, loyal customer, but I have to go back to whatever I was doing. I’ll see you around!” Before you even get to bid him goodbye, Donghyuck spins on the balls of his feet and starts making his way back to the last aisles.
You’re left thinking how you actually hope to see more of him.
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
It’s once in a blue moon that you go to the grocery store for a reason other than ingredients and food. Today, you’re set on finding a plant or two to liven up your apartment. The only problem was you genuinely did not know what plant best suited you and Karina.
You have your phone out, searching up the plant names you can barely read from the name tags. Being that you were in the garden centre of the store, the sun was beating down against your forehead and you’re really wishing that you can find some plants and leave so you can get back to your air-conditioned home. 
Your goal was to find a plant that could thrive without direct sunlight, given that your apartment didn’t receive sunlight all day, and one that might be a bit neglected due to yours and Karina’s busy schedules.
Francee Hosta. You read, a flowering perennial plant. Lavender blooms in the late Summer. Grows tall, 28 inches. Great for landscaping and can fill empty space well. Best in part to full shade.
“Good competitor,” you say under your breath. Mentally, you put a star on the plant and move on, hoping to gather as many options as you can. You’re not even halfway down the entirety of the garden centre so you’re fully confident that you’ll find one, but you just wish that it was actually easier finding the plant you wanted.
You move on, positioning yourself right beside the next plant you intend to research. It resembled a small aloe vera, only each ‘leaf’ was adorned with white stripes. From where you stood, the plant's name tag remained frustratingly out of sight, perched on top of the high racks. 
Letting out a frustrated groan, you stretch yourself as much as you can, reaching for the plant. Balancing on your tippy toes, you strain to touch the pot's glass edge, but it remains just out of your fingertips' reach. 
Before you can fully process the situation, a hand swiftly reaches for the same pot, snatching it away from you, “A zebra plant?”
Falling back on your heels, you turn to find Donghyuck holding the small plant in his hands, “Out of all the plants here, you want a zebra plant?” He holds it out for you to take, which you only do because you’re thrown off by his sudden appearance.
You completely ignore his question and ask him one of your own, “You again?” 
“Like I said, I do a bit of everything,” Donghyuck shrugs, “Wait, but I work here, I should be asking you that question.” 
“I’m trying to look for like two houseplants,” you say, “What’s the problem with zebra plants?” You frown at the poor plant in front of you, getting attacked for absolutely no reason.
“Nothing, there’s just way better ones than it,” Donghyuck snickers. 
You frown, “Well, since you seem to know more about plants than me, can you help me?” You turn to place the plant back. But when Donghyuck notices this, he quickly takes it out of your hands and places it back onto its spot. 
“Of course, of course,” he smiles. And just like a few days before, he starts leading you down the garden centre, eyeing the plants, “Well, what sort of plant are you looking for?”
You explain everything to him, “But I think I prefer smaller plants since my place has limited space.” 
He hums and files through his limited knowledge of plants, “I actually don’t know.”
“I thought you knew things about plants!” Your blink at him, mouth agape, “Why did you even ask me what I was looking for if you didn’t know what I was even talking about?”
Donghyuck rolls his eyes, “I do but because of the tags.” He reaches over and plucks out the name tags you’ve been using to do research on. Then he flips it around revealing a bulleted list of the plant’s features, “I was going to help you look for one.” 
How the hell did you not see the list in the first place?
“What the fuck,” you say, “That’s been there this whole time?”
“You’re telling me you haven’t been using these to pick the plants out!?” Donghyuck sucks his teeth and shakes his head as if he was disappointed in you. 
You defend yourself, huffing, “To be fair they’re not as visible as they should be.”
Donghyuck hums, “The more you know. How ‘bout I start over there and you continue from where I found you and we meet in the middle?”
You nod, “Sounds good to me.”
The two of you take about half an hour looking for plants, taking the job more seriously than it actually was. You could already predict that one out of the two plants may possibly be dead in two weeks, but it’s the thought that counts. 
“Okay,” Donghyuck approaches you with a plant in hand. Its leaves spill out of the pot, connected to the long, growing stems, “I think this one would be pretty. It’s one of those plants you can hang from the ceilings and it matches what you’re looking for.” 
You take the plant from him and hold it up, taking in its appearance, “I actually like it. I’ll take this one.” 
He nods and takes it back, “Did you find one?” 
You nod, too, showing him the plant you had chosen but sat on a nearby platform, “It looks like an average plant but it should do. Thanks for the help by the way.”
“It’s no problem,” Donghyuck shrugs, “This is the most boring position yet.”
The two of you start walking toward the entrance back into the actual store, passing by other customers, “Really? How many other positions have you worked?”
“This and the one from the other day,” Donghyuck snorts.
You’re genuinely surprised with how well you and Donghyuck can converse despite only meeting once before this. But you like to think it’s a skill you picked up from speaking to the other workers, “You’re kidding.”
“I’m really not,” he shakes his head, “Boring-est so far.” 
Once you two reach the entrance, he halts, “I’ll see you around?” Donghyuck realizes he’s still holding one of your plants and he gingerly hands it over to you. 
“You know it.”
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
Karina’s grip around your wrist is so tight that you feel the circulation failing to reach your fingertips. She’s dragging you down the sidewalk, walking at pace way too fast from your usual, “I promise you I’ll be quick. You can just sit at those benches at the front if you want.”
You groan, taking into account the fact that Karina’s begged one too many times to go to the grocery store with her, “Fine. But if you take longer than ten minutes, I’m leaving.” You can’t say no to your best friend completely, not when you know that her time of month’s coming up and she needs to stock up for her cravings and toiletries. 
“Wait, no! I need you to help me carry stuff,” Karina pouts. You both reach the front entrance and now she’s stopped, not ready to go in until she’s satisfied with a plan. 
You sigh, but in a loving way, almost as if you were a mom giving in to her kid’s wants, “Fine. I’ll wait for you.”
She lights up and claps, “Great! Okay you can sit and just wait until I’m about to go for cash.”
You nod, watching her jog in and leaving you to dawdle in not long after. 
“Hello! Good afternoon!”
It was almost a jumpscare hearing that voice, not expecting it to be the first thing you would encounter walking in. Usually the greeter was an older man who was working part-time despite retiring from his old job, but today, it was the very same boy you’ve run into during your two previous visits.
“A greeter?” You snort. 
Donghyuck puts his arms up in defense, “I told you I did everything.”
“Yeah but I didn’t think greeter would be part of that list.” Suddenly, you forget about your desire to sit at the metal bench by the bathrooms.
“Me neither, but here I am,” he shrugs, “What are you doing here?” The question was odd because it’s one you wouldn’t normally ask customers at a supermarket, but Donghyuck thinks it’s perfectly okay to ask you the question because it was your third time that week going to the store.
“My roommate needs things,” you say simply, “Is this position better than the plants?”
“I get to stand here and do basically nothing,” Donghyuck nods, eyes widening, “I get why Mr. June likes it.” 
“Where is he anyway?” You question.
Shrugging, Donghyuck leans against the high counter he was standing behind, “Personal day or something? I’m not too sure.” 
You hum, “Well at least he’s getting the break he needs.”
There’s a brief silence before Donghyuck gasps, brows escalating to the top of his forehead, “I just remembered!”
“Remembered what?” You don’t recall anything that you and Donghyuck have spoken about. 
“This is… weird? But I’ve never asked you for your name,” Donghyuck points out. It’s just now that you realized that he actually hasn’t asked for your name. You both just started speaking to each other as if you knew each other, so introducing yourself never even crossed your mind, “I mean… I think you know mine because of my name tag, but I don’t know yours.”
You narrow your eyes at him, “What if this is some ploy for you to stalk me?” You playfully take a step back and eye him down, “And what if your name isn’t really Donghyuck?”
“I’m not gonna stalk you,” Donghyuck he whines, “And my name really is Donghyuck! You can ask my grandma!”
You let out a laugh and sigh, “I know, I was joking. My name’s Y/N.” 
Before Donghyuck can process everything, he gasps, “Are you the Y/N grandma talks about?” He brings his hand up to his head and runs his hand through his hair, “The Y/N that had to bake for practically an entire village of people?”
“So your Grandma is Mrs. Lee?” You don’t know if it’s a good or bad thing that your heart warms up at the fact that Donghyuck was related to Mrs. Lee, who was probably the sweetest lady you’ve ever met. 
You think it was good because Donghyuck seemed to be close to his grandma, enough for her to get him a job and enough for him to know stories from work—it could really reflect the kind of person Donghyuck was. But now, thinking it through, it could be bad because there was no way you were developing a small crush on a boy you’ve only met twice before today. 
“That’s her,” He nods and allows for a child-like smile to surface on his face, “She’s the best right?”
You almost let out an audible ‘aww’ because of the way you can tell that he was probably a grandma’s boy. You nod, “She is. I should’ve put two and two together.”
His head tilts to the side, “What do you mean?”
“When she’s on cash, she talks about her grandson being a ray of sunshine,” you say. For some reason you suddenly feel shy as you speak to Donghyuck, “She says ‘I just know Hyuckie is going to be such a great man one day!’ I don’t know why it didn’t click that Hyuckie comes from Donghyuck.” 
Donghyuck blushes at the nickname, attempting to use his bangs to hide, “So she talks about me too?” You nod. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”
“She hasn’t said anything super embarrassing,” you tease, “The worst one was probably how you were in a rush to get home after an exam just to play video games and you cried cause you broke you broke your pinky. I found it funny but it wasn’t too bad.” 
Donghyuck’s jaw drops in the slightest, “She told you about that?” 
You nod and giggle, “Can I see your pinky?”
“Sorry I don’t usually show it on first dates,” Donghyuck peeks at you at the corner of his eyes and smirks. 
You facepalm, “That sounds so wrong.” You want to laugh but you hold it back, not wanting to give Donghyuck the satisfaction.
“Lee Donghyuck, are you doing your job?” From your right, the voice of Mrs. Lee calls out to her grandson, a delightful blend of playfulness and a touch of seriousness. 
Following the direction, you greet Mrs. Lee with a bow, waving at her before turning back to Donghyuck with hands to your hips, “Yeah, Donghyuck, are you doing your job?”
“Y/N’s distracting me!” He responds in a childlike manner, and Mrs. Lee simply shakes her head in response, a faint smile gracing her lips. As she turns away, you spot Karina waddling down from a cash register with four bags filled to the brim with different things. 
“Y/N!” She calls. She uses her head to gesture to the bags. By this time, she’s standing by the exit, setting two bags down at her feet for you to carry. 
“I have to go,” you say to Donghyuck, “I’ll probably see you the next time I come here, right?”
He nods, “It’s likely.”
“Well, see you Donghyuck!” you turn and wave, “Or should I say, Hyuckie.”
Rolling his eyes, he waves back before quickly flipping you off, but instead of his middle finger, it’s his pinky. You respond with a good-natured shake of your head, gathering the bags in front of you. With a nod to Karina, the two of you make your way out, leaving the lighthearted scene behind. 
“Bye, Y/N.” 
It’s good to finally have a name to your face.
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
True to Karina’s suspicions, her period started the day after her cravings. 
And when Karina gets her period, she gets sick. And when she gets sick, you take this as your cue to go to the grocery store to gather ingredients for the special stomach-hugging soup your mom taught you to cook growing up. It was something that you both looked forward to every month despite Karina not being at her best condition.
The produce today wasn’t up to par as it usually was. All were stacked rather messily, making it difficult for you to filter through the veggies. You’re only surprised because in the amount of times you’ve gone to the supermarket, there has not been one day that it organized this poorly. 
“This is like your… fourth time in the last ten days or something?” The voice sounds from behind you, “Just tell me you miss me and go.” 
You turn to see Donghyuck with a cart of banana-filled boxes and it all suddenly makes sense to you, “Why would I miss you?” You turn your attention back to the bok choy sitting to your right and rummage through the pre-filled bags.
“It happens more than you think,” he shrugs, “Reason this time?”
You find a bag that seems pretty good and you plop it into your basket, “My roommate’s sick so I’m making her soup.” 
“Mmm,” Donghyuck hums, “The weather lately has been making me crave hot pot, so soup sounds so good right now.”
“Now you’re making me crave it,” You feel your mouth water at the thought of hot pot on this cool, rainy afternoon and sigh, “But I think my soup’s better than hot pot. Any. Day.”
He scoffs, “I don’t believe you. Nothing can beat hot pot nowadays. Not even kimchi jjigae.” Donghyuck pushes and pulls at the banana cart as if it were a baby in a stroller, “Thank you.”
Your brows furrow, “For what?”
“Now I know what I’m eating for dinner later.” His grin forms a taut line, “Hot pot.” 
You begin making your way to the potatoes, grabbing those thin plastic bags on the way. To your surprise, Donghyuck follows you. You look at him, “Are you sure you aren’t the one who misses me?” “You wish,” he laughs, “I just need to stand still just for one minute at least. Produce clerk has to be the worst. But I do like talking to you.” Donghyuck shifts back and forth on his feet, “Anyway, what is this soup you’re making?” “See you do miss me!” You pick out three decently-sized potatoes and gently drop them into your bag, “It’s a family recipe and it doesn’t really have a name to it. We just call it stomach-hugging soup.”
“There’s a clear difference between me missing you and me liking talking to you,” Donghyuck grumbles, “We barely know each other but it’s just so easy talking to you. That’s why.” The way he nonchalantly says this takes you aback but you try to play it off, this time moving on to some nearby taro roots. 
“Whatever you say, Hyuckie,” you retort. Though he was right. It’s never been this easy for you to talk to someone, better yet, a boy. 
“Hey! That nickname is reserved for special people only!” 
“I’m a special person, aren’t I?” you joke, but quickly wave it off, “Don’t worry, I won’t call you that if you don’t want me to.” 
Repeating your steps from both the bok choy and the potatoes, Donghyuck watches you quietly with a smile that’s so gentle that it would lull a newborn to sleep. You don’t notice this, though, because your mind is distracted by how ungodly big the taro roots are.
“I need to… get back to stacking these bananas but,” Donghycuk gulps, “It would be cool if I could taste this special soup one day.”
You turn to him, and smile, eyes bright at the idea, “Of course. One day.”
He waves and saunters down toward the front of the produce section.
Once he’s gone, you try to make sense as to what Donghyuck was trying to imply. Friends outside of this weird new relationship you both have? Something more than that? You’re not too sure of anything and there was no way you were jumping to conclusions.
Before your thoughts start to eat at you, you shake your head to rid of them all, and along with it, the idea of the small lingering crush (that’s truly starting to develop) on this boy.
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
It isn’t until one week later that you return to the supermarket. The reason this time was that you and Karina were truly out of groceries for once (which honestly was not surprising). 
It would be a terrible lie if you said you hadn’t thought of Donghyuck at least once within the last week, wondering how he was doing while constantly being put into different positions at work. You hoped that he wasn’t put onto the floor as a produce clerk like he had been the last time you saw him, both for his sake and for the sake of the store. 
It was late at night when you finally found the time to visit the store, much later than your usual trips. By this hour, the store had bid farewell to the bustling moms and their screaming children, leaving only adults who had dropped by after school or work, much like yourself.
It would also be a terrible lie if you said you weren’t wondering if Donghyuck was here today. 
You grab a rolling basket on the way in, greeting Mr. June when you pass him at the front. You go down the store aisle by aisle while grabbing everything you’ve listed down in your mental list. Occasionally, you brought your phone out to look if you’ve missed any of Karina needed, a screenshot of her text appearing last in your photos. 
You spend an hour or two going through the list, part of which was you comparing two different products to see which one would help you save money. 
Your third terrible lie of the night would be if you said you weren’t jerking your head toward any other person who entered the aisle hoping it would be Donghyuck. 
It was so stupid because this very boy only found out what your name was not too long ago. You’ve only met this boy four other times. And you barely knew anything about him except for the small tidbits you picked up through conversations with him or with Mrs. Lee. 
And this leads you to your fourth (and hopefully, last) terrible lie of the night—that you weren’t disappointed when you didn’t run into Donghyuck during your time at the store. 
You sigh as you load your things onto the conveyor belt, sorting them with pairs or other like things so it would be easier for you to carry everything. In your head, you’re already planning out how you were supposed to carry everything on your own. You’ve done it before, so you can (while harnessing the power of the universe) do it again. 
“This is a lot of stuff.”
You freeze at the voice and you finally look up, finding that Donghyuck was, in fact, your cashier. 
He immediately reads the shock in your facial expression and snorts, “Everything, remember? How’s your night doing?” Donghyuck starts scanning your items, sliding them from one side to the other.
You shrug, “Tiring… Do your shifts usually go ‘til this hour?” 
Donghyuck shakes his head, “Not typically, but I’m filling in for someone today. One of the other employees got sick so I stepped up like the good person I am.” He flashes a proud expression, and you can't help but chuckle at his confidence, “Anyways, where do you live?”
“What?” you laugh nervously, “I swear you suck at hiding your intentions of stalking me.” 
Donghyuck quickly takes back his question, realizing that he worded it all wrong and it being taken out of context was not good look at all. “No no! It’s not that, but…” How can he put this in a non-stalkery way? “My shift is almost done… you have a lot of things to carry… I would like to walk you home?” He cringes at the way it comes out as a question but it’s too late now. 
“Okay, if you’re not going to stalk me,” you think, “What if you kidnap me?”
"I promise, no kidnapping plans here," Donghyuck replies with a playful grin. "I'm a certified good guy, I swear!" Unbeknownst to you, he intentionally slows down his scanning, making sure that he has more time to chat with you (just in case you didn’t agree to his proposal). It's been a week since he last saw you, and this supermarket seems to be the only place where you both get a chance to talk. Besides, there was no one else in line.
There’s this very feeling in your chest that’s practically yelling at you to trust him, so you do, “It’s about two blocks down. It’s not too far, it’s a good eight minute walk.”
“I’ll meet you at the front then?” 
Not even ten minutes later, Donghyuck meets you right where he suggested. He isn’t wearing the vest the employees wore as uniforms. Instead, he’s thrown on a dark hoodie. He picks up your bags, “Let me take those for you~” 
“Didn’t see you coming,” you say, “I can carry one, you know.” You can't deny feeling a hint of nervousness. This marked the first time you were going to interact with Donghyuck beyond the supermarket setting. It's hard not to wonder if your dynamic is shifting from a mere employee-customer relationship to something more meaningful—even if it was just a friendship.
“It’s okay, I insist,” Donghyuck smiles, “Let’s go! Lead the way.”
You stand up and you lead him out the door. You begin taking your route home and Donghyuck quickens his steps to keep up with you, “So, what you’ve been up to the past week?”
A pleasant breeze blows past you both and you turn your head to reply to him just as you’re stopped at a red light, “I’ve just been busy with school and some other responsibilities. I only found time to go to the store after school today.”
“Ah, your load must be heavier than mine,” Donghyuck makes a sound of recognition, “I only have morning classes and then I’m free for the day.” 
“You’re lucky,” you laugh, “Mine usually runs the whole day because my faculty’s suckass at scheduling… but it is what it is, I guess.”
The light switches and you’re both allowed to cross. There are only a few cars waiting to go, which emphasizes how late in the night it actually is. “Well at least you’re holding up,” Donghyuck grins, “You still have time for cooking and what not.”
You nod, “That’s true, you’re right.” 
The conversation between you two unfolds with familiar ease, similar to your convos at the supermarket. Donghyuck brings up Mrs. Lee, questioning about how you came to know his grandmother. You share your story with him, detailing the moments and conversations that led to your connection.
“Are you close with your grandma?” You ask out of curiosity.
“She practically raised me because my parents were mostly out at work,” Donghyuck explains, “Now that she’s a little bit older, I still go over to her place and help around the house. She’s at retirement age, but she likes being busy. So I let her be busy at work and tell her to relax when she’s at home.”
Your heart swells at Donghyuck’s relationship with Mrs. Lee and a slight surge of emotion wells up within you. It really wasn’t helping with the crush you were trying to conceal, not when Donghyuck seemed like a genuinely great guy. 
“I think that’s really sweet of you.” You feel the corners of your mouth rise to your cheekbones, “I bet she appreciates it. She seems to really love you, so there’s no doubt that she does.” 
You finally reach your place and Donghyuck realizes this when you slow to a halt. He can't help but feel a tinge of disappointment that your place isn't farther from the store. Nevertheless, he holds onto the hope that he'll have more opportunities to walk you home in the future. 
You retrieve your bags from his hands and you don’t notice the way his breath hitches at your proximity. “Thanks for walking me home and carrying my bags. Are you fine getting home?” 
Donghyuck nods, “I actually live pretty close, believe it or not, so don’t worry about me. I’ll see you around?” It seems like this was something you’ve been saying to each other a lot.
“Of course and thank you again,” you say, “Goodnight, Donghyuck.”
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
As you begin to turn away, Donghyuck's gaze lingers on you. Despite it not being your last encounter with him, in that moment, a sense of urgency washes over him, realizing that this might be a pivotal moment. It feels like this decision could only be made now or never.
“Wait!” He calls out. It comes out embarrassingly louder than intended. He swears he could hear his voice echo down the street. 
You pause and turn to face Donghyuck, looking back at him curiously, "Yeah?" There are so many thoughts running through your head, only you couldn’t pick them out for the life of you. 
Donghyuck starts jogging to catch up with you, his footsteps rhythmically hitting the pavement. "I... actually have a question," he says, his voice slightly breathless. "It's been on my mind for the past week."
You meet his gaze with an expectant look, raising your eyebrows and giving a nod, encouraging him to continue.
“This sounds weird but,” his palm finds the nape of his neck and he’s suddenly (extremely) nervous to even be standing in front of you, “I think I like you… and I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date some…time? It’s okay if no, but I just figured that since we get along well that it was worth try—”
“I would love to.” 
“Wait, really?”
“Yes, really,” you retort, giggling under your breath, “I’m actually kinda relieved you made the first move.”
A rush of excitement surges through Donghyuck, and he's almost overwhelmed with the urge to jump for joy, “I’ll plan something out and let you know, if that’s okay? I didn’t think I would actually get this far.” He feels his cheeks heat up out of embarrassment.
“Take your time,” you snort, “I’ll be looking forward to it.”
“Okay! I promise you I will not disappoint!” he exclaims, “Goodnight, Y/N. For real this time.” 
You offer a wordless response, shuffling closer to Donghyuck before rising onto your toes to plant a gentle peck on his cheek.
“Goodnight, Donghyuck.”
(And you best know Donghyuck went home that night skipping, excited to tell his grandma everything the next day.) 
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
Thank you for reading! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.゚ Pls support my fic by liking/rbing (whatever you're most comfortable with!)
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xiaojunsdiary · 18 days
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admire from afar
shen quanrui x m! reader
prompt: your classmate ricky dyes his hair and you just cannot take your eyes off of it. but someone else can’t take their eyes off you either
warnings: flirting, blushing, flustered reader, ricky being a tease, RED HAIR RICKY
word count: 992 words
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you have had a crush on your classmate and fellow acquaintance, shen quanrui, for a while now. the two of you sharing a few classes over your high school years. now both in your senior year.
he went by ricky in class but you never looked at him and thought of him that way tho. the two of you weren’t close but you had worked on some projects together in the past and greet each other in the hallways. ricky was nice, but the boy was also very popular.
he had gained popularity when he arrived halfway through your sophomore year as a foreign exchange student and had decided to stick it through to the end of high school here as he enjoyed the environment.
the other leading factor to ricky’s popularity was his undeniable beauty. the boy was stunning and had everyone infatuated. you were no different. for you couldn’t help but catch yourself staring at him from time to time, wether it be a few glance or an extensive stare, you admired generously.
* 🍒*
today started a new week of school. a lousy monday. you had done your normal routine of getting ready, brushing your teeth and walking walking to school as it wasn’t far but something was a little different.
the normal crowds that would gather about outside of school seemed to be louder today. gossip was spreading like a wild fire as you tried to listen in while making your way to your first class of the day. you heard ricky’s name slip a few times but never heard any follow up as there was so much going on.
when you had finally reached your first period: mathematic concepts, you eyed the main topic of today: shen quanrui but with red hair. a bold shade that was very different from the normal ice prince-blonde the boy had usually worn.
you didn’t realize you weren’t moving from the doorway until you heard an “excuse me” behind you. you quickly apologized and moved to sit down in your normal seat.
you began to get your belongings out on your desk as you stole another glance at ricky. the bright shade of red really complimented his features and even exaggerated them in the process.
your eyes had managed to catch his and he gave you a smile but you quickly looked away, embarrassed of being caught. you didn’t understand why as many other people were staring as well. probably because he had seen you in particular. ricky went back to conversing with his friends.
your math teacher walked in to begin his lesson while trying to ignore the flutter in your chest.
stupid, stupid, stupid you thought.
*🍒*
the lesson had went on for a moment and you had started to zone out due to boredom. your eyes wandered back over to ricky who was just a few seats away, taking notes down that your teacher had insisted you write down.
he felt someone staring at him and he looked up and locked eyes with you. you felt your face heat up in genuine embarrassment as you were supposed to be taking down notes, not ogling down your classmate. he gave you a small smirk and continued taking down notes.
you decided it was time to actually do some work yourself as well. the red hue on your face not leaving anytime soon as you recall the incident that had just occurred moments prior.
stupid, stupid, stupid.
*🍒*
the bell rang signaling the end of your first period. as students gathered up their materials and begin to exit the room, it took you a minute longer to pack up your things delaying your departure.
as you were putting the final notebook into your bag, you saw a pair of exquisite shoes perch their way beside your desk. looking up to meet eyes with…RICKY?
what could he possibly want? you thought
while there was only a few inches between the two of you, you felt much smaller as he gazed down at you this closely, an undisclosed meaning behind them.
“u-uh, hello?” you asked, zipping up your back back while attempting to hold eye contact. attempting to anyway.
“hi, mn. how are you?” he asked with a small smile.
“i’m okay. you?” you asked, happy you didn’t make a fool of yourself of stuttering again.
“i’m doing great, thank you. didn’t know so many people would be staring at me today, although, there was one pair of eyes that just couldn’t seem to stop” he replied, his smirk from earlier returning to his face.
your face went aflame as he had called you out for your looks you had given him earlier .
“i’m s-sorry, i hope i didn’t make you uncomfortable” you apologized, heat prominent on your cheeks.
“it’s okay. although, i’m curious” he said stepping a little closer.
“to what?”
“as to what your schedule looks like this weekend” he replies, slyly might you add.
“u-uh…,” you were in shock. what do you say?? “i’m unoccupied” a bit of hesitation near the end of your reply. shen quanrui wanted to potentially spend time with you?
“would you like to go out to dinner with me? i could pick you up” he asked, now a smile was stationed upon his face.
“yes!” you replied a little too enthusiastically, you cleared your throat” “yes, that sounds lovely”
omgomgomg, your crush just asked you out!!
“then it’s a date. how’s friday night at 7pm work for you?” he said, shifting more body weight onto his right leg, making his current pose even more attractive.
you nodded with a smile.
“great, well, see you then, gorgeous” he said while leaning in to press his lips to your right cheek before he made his exit.
you stood and stared at the door from which ricky had just left through. your face burning
what the fuck just happened
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A/N: this shit deleted halfway though so sorry if the way i wrote it changes like halfway LMAOO. but OMGGGG, RICKY’S RED HAIR HE DEBUTED WITH TODAY, I’M FUCKING SCREAMING. I CALLED THAT SHÍT. i need him so bad, i’m blushing
posted: 03-10-24
edited: ???
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comments & reblogs are very appreciated!! <3
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