#and it would still be a risk and a statement... but also one that could slide in like listen
Note
Louis might not be chucking bricks at No. 10, but people are responding like he’s never displayed leftist politics or challenged a government position on anything. He supported demands to the government about a fix for UK touring musician post Brexit and Marcus Rashford’s petition about food insecurity. He fought the police about their social media use in 2018 and criticised the UK government position/support for factory workers in the pandemic. The things he speaks about are usually UK issues and meaningful to him or his family and friends. He’s also most likely to speak when he isn’t working. Also that specific anarchy has a punk anti authoritarian message as well. That statement fits Louis pretty well. He has been a poster boy for not sitting down and shutting up and doing what you’re told since 2012. If he was he probably wouldn’t have a solo career and he definitely wouldn’t have sold out the O2.
I like this point about him speaking out more when he's not working, I think that's a really great and useful observation and makes so much sense.
I feel like it makes sense in two ways right now: like first, I don't blame him for not wanting to do things that would jeopardize how beautifully everything is going for him right now after the number of setbacks and troubles he's had to get here, it must feel so precarious. And knowing for a fact that any political statement you make will spawn a dozen tabloid stories and all kinds of outrage is bad enough, but add to that the fact that it's simply impossible to predict which thing will turn into a huge viral mess- it's a lot. And second, he's not just working, he's been on TOUR! I've been around musicians my whole life and one constant is that tour is time outside of normal time and life, it's a bubble, it's only paying attention to right where you are and what's in front of you and the people there with you and everything else is put off and neglected, is for when you get home (and have massive post tour letdown depression and fatigue). I'm not saying he can disconnect with the outside world entirely... but putting everything on pause? I would be surprised if it were any other way, and I would be surprised if he's been following the news and counter news and so forth closely enough to feel comfortable speaking out publicly about anything when it will be so scrutinized and picked apart.
I would add to your list supporting the rail strike (something we wouldn't even know about if it hadn't been tossed in as an aside by an interviewer in the print only version of a piece, he didn't post about it or anything) and attending and posting about the BLM protests (not to mention telling people to pirate his stuff come on how punk is that), and I agree he is much more likely to speak out about UK issues which makes sense: most people are most moved by issues that are close to their lives in some way, and it's his brand.
And I agree that even though as an anarchist I love talking about what anarchism as a political ideology actually is, the symbol does also have a common meaning in the world as just basically standing for anti-authoritarianism, and Louis as a guy who rejects authority and the status quo is nothing new at all and one of the reasons we love him, and in the last few years I feel like he's been going further in that direction both aesthetically and politically, and we love to see it! Plus he has pretty much always sported this slightly punky aesthetic to some degree, even when he was being dressed up like a little ken doll he snuck in skater looks and indie band tees and so forth (something something it's part of why his fanbase was so primed to love his new sound and it wasn't the risk he feared it was because people were always drawn to him who were already into that aesthetic even when his sound wasn't that yet) it's not like it's just a brand new out of nowhere side of him or something.
#I'm not sure I would include the food petition on the list- I realize the bar is so fucking low#that supporting charities that feed children is considered political#but charity stuff is a different category for me... although rashford's specifically was#basically formed as a loud way of criticizing the govt for not doing more and explicitly linked to that... so yeah nm maybe that does fit i#even though its a charity org#I have actually been thinking s lot about how his footy fandom would be such a good way for him to sneak in some palestine support#he could just like a post by a player you know? instead of saying something#and it would still be a risk and a statement... but also one that could slide in like listen#I like posts by football players every day what?#or even jsut one about it being fucked up that so and so got fired by their club for making statements#so many layers of remove that could be ustilized#anarchism#comrade louis#blah blah blah#PS note for non brits (not that I am) number 10 refers to number 10 downing st the england equivalent of the white house basically so like#the government
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Tim: ...so that's how I ended up in Bludhaven with a fake uncle.
Jason: ...
Tim: What?
Jason: Let me make sure I'm understanding this correctly before I respond. Your dad was murdered. Your stepmom, who never adopted you, was in a mental hospital. Dick was awol. Cass was still basically a baby as well and was finding herself. B was avoiding you because he felt guilty about getting your dad murdered.
Tim: He didn't-
Jason *speaking over him forcefully*: Then you dropped out of school, so no one could possibly miss you while you lived with a man who was a complete stranger to you and who knew you had money and no adults worth a damn in your life.
Jason *takes deep breath*: Why the fuck would you do that?!
Tim: Well, at first I wasn't sure what was going to happen to me and Batman needs Robin, but we also both needed some space to grieve. I had to make sure I was still available to Bruce while also leaving us some breathing room. Plus, Dick was out of town, so Bludhaven needed a vigilante anyway.
Jason: Okay, ignoring the twenty other things wrong with that statement, did it never occur to you that Bruce could just adopt you?
Tim: Well, Yeah. But he'd just adopted Dick, which was a really big deal for him, emotionally, you know? I was worried he'd feel bad if Bruce turned around and adopted me.
Jason: You were worried Dick would feel bad if Bruce adopted you when you had literally no one else?
Tim: Yeah. I was used to being alone anyway and you know how he can get when it comes to Bruce.
Jason: So you decided to move in with a strange man who was down on his luck and might, oh, I don't know, murder the weird, wealthy child whose bank account he had access to?!
Tim: I paid him. I never gave him direct access to my bank account.
Jason: Oh, well that makes everything fine then. He'd just have to force you to hand over more cash. Or hold you hostage against Bruce. Or blackmail you to keep you as his baby sugar daddy.
Tim: I set up everything about his fake identity so he couldn't try to blackmail me without looking really sketchy himself and he never knew about Robin, so what would he blackmail me with anyway?
Jason: How about telling Bruce what you did, since the charade was obviously mostly for him?
Tim: Then he'd risk losing everything while I moved in with Bruce. Nothing he could do against me would gain him anything, so what was the worst that could happen?
Jason: He could have murdered you in your sleep! He could've jumped you while you were vulnerable! He could've threaten to report you to a truancy officer if you didn't do something he wanted! He could've drugged you and sold you to traffickers! Fuck, I don't want to keep thinking about all the horrible things that could've happened to your idiotic baby past self. So let me just reiterate the important question: What the fuck were you thinking?!
Tim: Why does every funny story I tell you end up with you freaking out and yelling at me?
Jason: Because every story you think is a funny childhood anecdote is actually a fucking terrifying misadventure that you just somehow survived!
#fanfiction#mine#ficlet#funny#BatBros#BatPups#Bat Family#Jason Todd#Tim Wayne#Tim Drake#Red Hood#Robin#Red Robin#DC#Comics#Bruce Wayne's adopted children
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hiii can you repost hello angel? as a jaemin girl it was one of my favorite fics everrrr i read it everyday fr😭❤️
hey angel | n.jm
“i come alive when i hear your voice, it’s a beautiful sound”
💿now playing: hey angel by one direction
❯ summary: You're Jaemin's best friend - so of course he loves to call you up late at night and hear your voice. He's definitely not calling because the sound of your voice turns him on - yeah definitely not that.
❯ pairings: jaemin x fem!reader
❯ genre: friends to lovers, smut, fluff.
❯ words: 3.7k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, phone sex, dirty talk, masturbation, slight possessiveness?, begging, praise, heavy use of nicknames, reader uses she/her pronouns, just pure filth tbh, jaemin has a voice kink??
It was late and you were already in bed, snuggled deep and cozy in the sea of your blankets, when your best friend Jaemin called. He’s your closest friend and the person you were more than a little bit in love with — but you’d never risk telling him for fear of it ruining your friendship.
So even though it was late, and you were sleepy, you answered his call. To be fair, he’d answered plenty of your late-night phone calls over the years.
“Hey angel,” Jaemin greets in an eager tone.
You can hear the alcohol in his voice — that and Jaemin only ever used that nickname for you when he’d been drinking. Still, it never fails to send warmth curling through your heart. It felt like it was his way of wrapping you up in his strong arms whilst he wasn’t with you.
“Annngelll,” your best friend continues in singsong, making you giggle softly.
Jaemin’s voice sounds rough and gravelly, like he’d been shouting over a crowded bar all night. Which wasn't a surprise since it was his friend Jeno’s birthday tonight. And you knew your charming and extroverted best friend would never pass up the chance of a good time.
Before you could respond to his greetings, Jaemin’s tone suddenly turned serious. “I missed you tonight.”
“Na Jaemin,” you try to match his quick change of mood, attempting a serious tone. But it was a losing battle as you tried to fight against the smile threatening to let loose at his statement. “You’re drunk—I bet you barely noticed I wasn’t there tonight.”
He grumbles and you hear fabric rustle like he was flopping back on his bed. You can’t help but imagine what he currently looked like: his body probably sprawled out on top of his comforter, the strands of his hair falling into his face as his head propped up on his pillows. He probably had one hand behind his head, his bicep bulging while his other hand held the phone to his ear.
You know it’s wrong, but your mind wonders if he was still in his clothes from the night or if he’d stripped down—knowing the fact that your best friend liked to sleep in his boxers.
But you were also familiar with intoxicated Jaemin, he likely hadn’t changed out of his clothes yet, too drunk, and tired to care. Still, that didn’t stop you from thinking about your best friend laying in his bed shirtless while he talked to you.
“I may have had a couple drinks,” he admits grudgingly. “But of course, I missed my angel. I swear—cross my heart and hope to die—I was a good boy tonight,” he says with enough conviction that you couldn’t help but giggle.
“You’re silly, Jaem.” There’s a warmth in your voice, and you have no hope of wiping the smile from your face even if you tried.
Pulling the phone away from your ear to check the time, you felt bad and ask, “Why are you calling?”
A long, loud sigh came through the phone from your best friend. “I wanted to hear your voice,” he explains after a silent moment.
It was a cute sentiment, making you feel warm all over, and you wished you could talk to him longer. “Jaem,” you start, gentling your voice. “It’s late and you know I have to get up early. So, if that’s all, I’m going to hang up.”
“But I can’t sleep,” he whines, and you could hear the pout in his voice. Without even seeing his face, you knew he was deploying his puppy dog eyes. “Just talk to me for a few minutes, angel, please?”
“Fine,” you say with another sigh, folding instantly at the thought of imagining his gentle expression asking you. He’d learned long ago it was a sure way to make you give in. You’d fallen sucker to Jaemin’s big brown eyes, and he knew exactly how to use them.
Resigning yourself to being tired at work the next day, you settled deeper into your pillows. Your voice gentle as you got comfortable. “But you can’t hold it against me if I fall asleep,” you warn.
“Deal.” His smugness at getting you to agree so easily was loud and clear through the phone even if you couldn’t see his self-satisfied smile. “How was your day, angel?” he asks as his bed sheets rustled again and you presumed he was settling in too.
Tired, but always happy to talk to your best friend, you told him about your day and complained about why you had to get up early the next morning. Your voice turns softer and sweeter as you get more and more tired. Jaemin’s does the same, getting even deeper and more husky as he told you about his day. Eventually, there was a lull in the conversation, and you were about to tell him good night when he said something that surprised you enough to drag you away from the edge of sleep.
“Have I ever told you how hard your sleepy little voice makes me?” he asks, making a sound like he was biting back a groan. “I love calling you before you fall asleep, but I always gotta rub one out after.”
“Jaemin,” you say, voice going for stern, but not quite hitting the mark since it was still laced with sleepiness. “That is not true.”
“It is!” he insists, sounding more awake by the minute—and you were right there with him. “I’m hard right now.” He makes a soft sound, like a grunt.
Before you could stop yourself, you imagined him— still sprawled out on his bed — but this time he had a bulge in his jeans. In your mind’s eye, Jaemin grips his hard length through his jeans, stroking himself roughly. The thought makes you gasp softly, and you clench your thighs together against a sudden pulse in your core.
Jaemin must’ve heard the sound because you could hear the grin in his voice when he speaks again. “Tell me, angel, are you wearing one of my shirts tonight?” he asks gruffly.
You swallow heavily, trying to buy yourself some time. It felt like crossing a line to admit that you were wearing one of his shirts, but when Jaemim didn’t take the question back, you realise you’d had to answer.
“Yeah,” you whisper.
“Which one?” His voice is rough now, like sandpaper, but oh so eager.
“One of your varsity shirts from college—the one that says ‘Jaemin’ on the back,” you answer, unable to lie to your best friend even if you were a little shy to admit you still sleep in his shirts. You knew you didn’t need to be, since he clearly knew you slept in them.
“I love it when you wear my shirts, angel,” Jaemin confesses. His tone now warm, like he was grinning and happy. It makes the last of your shyness disappear to hear him say that.
“It lets everyone know you’re mine.”
“I’m not yours, Jaemin,” you protest half-heartedly.
You weren’t, even if you desperately wanted to be his in every sense of the word.
“You’re my best friend,” he says, like there was no argument you could come up with to change his mind. “My best girl—that makes you mine.”
“Jaemin,” you exhale.
You knew he was just talking about friendship, but you wished his words meant something different. You wished he felt the same way for you as you did for him.
“Fuck, say my name like that again,” he begs in a gruff voice. “Makin’ me so damn hard.”
You feel the blush rise to your cheeks and you go flustered, unsure what to do as Jaemin easily crosses lines you’d avoided delicately for years. But you didn’t want him to stop. The sound of his voice saying those things had wetness pooling between your thighs. So, you gave him what he wanted.
“Jaemin,” you repeat his name, voice breathier with your arousal, and he let out a happy hum.
“That’s my girl,” he says followed by a groan that is so low and husky, sending tingles racing through your entire body. “Fuck, I’m so hard,” he moans, a slight strain in his voice. “Do you mind, angel?”
It took a moment for your hazy mind to figure out what he was asking. Then, another to process that he was asking if you were okay with him stroking himself while he was on the phone with you. Your breath caught from a sudden surge of excitement. The voice that typically stops you from crossing the line with your best friend was conveniently quiet and all that was left was your need for him.
“I-I don’t mind, Jaem,” you answer softly, trying not to sound too eager.
The sound of him pulling down the zipper of his jeans was loud enough that you could hear it through the phone — and that alone sent a shiver down your spine. It was nothing, though, in comparison to the rough groan he makes as he grips his cock in his hand.
“Fuck,” he curses.
You could feel yourself getting slicker from the sounds of him stroking himself. Distantly, you knew you were crossing a line by listening to him, by getting off on hearing your best friend pleasure himself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Instead, you found yourself holding your breath as you strained to hear him.
“What else are you wearing besides my shirt, angel?” his voice octaves lower than normal. The sound of it makes you squirm, your thighs clenching together harder.
Biting your lip, you debated for a second whether to answer truthfully. You didn’t want to lie to your best friend and, you rationalise, you’d already crossed the line, hadn’t you?
“Just panties,” you whisper.
You trail your hand down your chest over his shirt to toy with the hem where it had ridden up around your hips. Your fingers were dangerously close to slipping under the waistband your best friend had become oh so curious about.
“Just panties? Fucking hell, angel. What colour are they, huh?” He questions in his deep, rough voice.
You swallow thickly, wondering if he could hear how hot and bothered he was making you. You wonder if he knew you were so close to playing with yourself by the way your breath was getting faster. But you couldn’t stop yourself from answering.
“They’re pink,” you say softly.
“Angel,” Jaemin groans, thickened with need. “Fuck, I wanna bury my head between your thighs and kiss every single inch of you until you’re writhing under me, begging me to tear those panties off you.”
It was your turn to groan, and when you say, “Jaemin,” on a sharp exhale, you sound even more needy than anything else. Your fingers brushing over the hem of your panties, teasing yourself with whether or not you should dip beneath the fabric and touch yourself.
“You like that idea, angel?” He asks, a grin in his voice. “Like thinking about my mouth so close to your pussy.”
At his words, you couldn’t help but picture the scene. His head navigating between your legs, his strong arms wrapped around your thighs, holding you open so he could follow through on his promise. It was all too easy to imagine the way he’d look at you, mischief sparkling in his brown eyes as he slowly, teasingly kissed your mound over your panties, tongue sneaking out to lick the pink material. The picture he painted had you squirming in your bed.
You couldn’t take it anymore, your fingers finally sliding into your panties, finding your pussy wet and swollen and needy.
When you don’t respond except with a sharp gasp, Jaemin asks, “Are you touching yourself?”
His voice turns seductive. “You have to tell me if you are, angel—best friends tell each other this sort of thing. I have to know when you’re fingering your needy little cunt.”
“Oh god, Jaemin,” you cry softly, your breaths coming harsher. But you don’t for a second consider hiding what you were doing from your best friend. “Yes, I’m t-touching myself.”
“Good girl,” he praises, making warm pride curl through your chest as more wetness flooded your core. “Touch that pretty pussy for me.”
“H-how would you know it’s pretty?” you ask on a gasp, forcing the question out between hitching breaths as you slowly trace a finger around your dripping hole, teasing yourself and making you wetter.
“Because everything about you is pretty, angel. The way you laugh at me when I’m drunk, the way you bite your lip when you’re unsure, the way you look at me… fuck, you’re so fucking pretty.”
Your finger pauses and you suck in a deep breath, thoughts running chaotically. Jaemin had never complimented you like this before, and you couldn’t help yourself from asking a question you desperately wanted an answer to.
“How do I look at you, Jaemin?” you ask in a small voice, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in the expression he’d just mentioned.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know,” he teases. “You look up at me, giving me the dirtiest fuck me eyes possible. Fluttering your pretty eyelashes like you’re begging me to bend you over every surface and stuff you full of my cock.”
“Jaemin,” you cry out in a little sob, emotions and arousal swirling through your body completely overwhelming you for a moment.
“I know angel,” Jaemin’s voice is soothing and deep. “I know you give those eyes to me.”
He paused for a moment and all you could hear was his deep, steady breathing.
“Because you’re mine, yeah?” There was a thread of uncertainty in his question, and it made your heart thump in response.
“Yeah,” you agree without hesitation, without protest. “I’m yours, Jaemin.”
“Good,” he declares. Without giving you time to fully process what had just transpired between the two of you, Jaemin continues speaking, his voice diving an octave lower and growing rough. “Now slide one of your fingers into that pretty pussy of yours.”
It was so easy to listen to him, to give yourself over to his command. Letting his deep voice reverberate in your head, heat curling all through your body down to the tips of your toes, as you press one of your fingers into your wet hole. A soft moan tumbles from your lips and you knew Jaemin heard it from the way he sucks in a breath.
“That’s it, angel, being so good for me,” his breaths coming harsher down the phone line. “Tell me how it feels.”
You sink into the sensations and the sound of his voice, letting your eyes fall closed. You feel like you’re floating in the soft sea of your bed as you pull your finger out and thrust it back inside your pussy.
“Feels so good,” you answer in another moan.
Jaemin responds with a groan of his own. “Bet you’re fucking tight,” he says, breath heavy and raw. “Bet you’re clenching down on your little finger, aren’t you?”
Like your body was trained to respond to his voice, your pussy clenches around your finger at his words and you let out a hitching moan. But Jaemin doesn’t stop talking. His deep, hoarse voice fills your ears and makes you hotter and hotter.
“Fuck, angel, keep going—keep fingering that wet pussy for me while I stroke my dick to those sweet little sounds you make,” he urges, as he bit back his groans. You moan and gasp in response to his filthy words. “Fuckin’ hell, I wish it was your warm cunt gripping me right now, clenching hard around my thick cock while I fuck you.”
“Please,” you beg, not sure what exactly you were asking for but knowing you didn’t want him to stop talking. You add another finger to your dripping hole, crying out at the slight stretch.
“Would you like that, angel?” he asks, managing to fill his tone with teasing even as his heavy breaths gave away how turned on, he was. “Tell me—fucking tell me,” he prompts when you don’t respond, too busy fucking yourself with your fingers to the sound of his voice.
A whine forces itself out of your lungs, the simple command sounding so filthy from your best friend’s mouth. “Yes, Jaem,” you whimper an answer between your gasping breaths. “Want you to fuck me.”
“Fuck—fuck,” he groans almost painful. “The next time I see you, that pussy is mine. Gonna bury my face between your thighs and make you come on my tongue,” he promises. “Then I’m gonna shove my cock deep in your cunt and fuck you stupid.”
“Jaemin,” you sob out his name, fucking yourself harder as you picture your best friend hovering over you while you lay in his bed. You imagine how his body would start fucking you into the mattress, his cock buried deep in your pussy, your arms and legs wrapped around him — anything to be close to him.
Through the phone, you hear the soft sound of Jaemin fucking himself into his own fist, the strain in his voice every time he spoke.
Imagining your best friend sprawled on his bed, jeans open just enough for him to have his cock out, gripping and pumping his length roughly with his eyes squeezed shut. Thinking about him like that makes you whimper.
“Fuck—I can’t stop thinking about how pretty you’d look while I fuck you, angel,” he murmurs. “Wanna see my cock stretch you while I pound into you, wanna see your pretty lips swollen from my kisses as you moan for me, wanna see your eyes go all hazy as you get stupid on my cock.”
As he speaks, your thumb circles your clit and you moan loudly into the phone. Your best friend’s filthy words make your pussy clench down hard on your fingers as you get closer and closer to your release.
“Don’t stop, Jaem, please don’t stop,” you beg breathlessly. Jaemin lets loose a deep groan in response to your desperate plea, the sound making your thighs clamp down hard around your hand. You wish your legs were wrapped around his waist instead of your wrist.
“Fuck your pussy, angel, nice and hard.”
You cry out as you force a third finger, making yourself stretch to take the intrusion.
“That’s it, that’s my good girl, fuck yourself stupid to the sound of my voice,” he encourages.
Even with how far gone you are, you can hear the cocky grin in his tone, but your body just flushes and clenches tight in response. Desperately, you fuck yourself harder, hips rocking into your hand, mind drowning in lust as you gasp and moan into the phone. Knowing he can hear you only urges you not to hold back.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jaemin groans loudly, his breath coming in sharp pants. “Keep making those cute little sounds for me, my cock is aching for you—fuck!” The cockiness in his tone fades into desperation.
“Jaemin,” his name tumbles past your lips.
You’d said your best friend’s name countless times over the years, but never like this—never with your fingers buried deep in your cunt wishing it was his thick cock.
“Jaem, I need…” you trail off, not even knowing what you need, just knowing he was the only one who could give it to you.
“You need my cock, don’t you?” You can hear the way his grin curls at the edges of his mouth. “Need my cock just like I need your pussy.” He bit off the end of his sentence with a groan. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come,” he moans. “Gonna come so hard to your sweet little moans, angel.”
You gasp and your back arches off your bed when you rub your thumb roughly over your clit. You moan so shamelessly for your best friend. “So close.”
“When I fuck you,” he starts, cutting himself off abruptly as he groans again. “When I fuck you, angel, I’m gonna make you come so hard on my cock,” he promises, voice rough and deep you swear you can feel the pleasure from the sound shooting from your ear directly to your clit. “And while you’re screaming my name and coming all over my dick, I’m gonna bury myself in that sweet pussy and pump you full of my load—you want my come, angel?”
“Yes, Jaemin, please come inside me, fill me up,” you babble, so close to your own release you barely know what you’re saying.
“That’s it. That’s my slutty little angel, begging for my come.” He groans, stroking himself faster. “Come for me, come for your best friend,” he commands, pausing to moan lowly. “Tell me who you belong to.”
“I’m yours, Jaemin, all yours,” you cry out. With one more deep thrust of your fingers, the heel of your hand grinding against your clit, you come apart.
You moan loudly as waves of pleasure surged through you, consuming you. Your limbs shaking as you wrench every ounce of pleasure from your release, fucking yourself through it as you breathe fast and harsh.
“That’s my good girl. Coming so sweetly for me, so perfect.” He grunts. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! You made me come so fucking hard, angel,” he mumbles, a little breathless.
Since you hadn’t fully regained control over your body, you just hummed in delight. You were still riding the aftershocks of your orgasm, your lips turned in a smile while you listened to Jaemin catching his breath.
“Like hearing me come apart for you?” He teases the question. “Wish you were here to clean up the mess you made.”
“Jaem,” you try to put some reproach into your voice but fail miserably as you giggle.
“Don’t worry, you can help the next time I see you.”
The line goes quiet for a moment, the two of you gathering yourselves together. “You’re still my best girl, right?” he finally asks, and you can hear the smile in his voice.
“Yeah,” you whisper, “I’m your girl.”
“That’s good to hear,” he murmurs, sighing contentedly, and you can tell he was starting to drift off. “Because all of me is yours, angel. And I plan on showing you that when I’m back.”
#jaemin smut#nct smut#nct dream smut#nct x reader#jaemin x reader#nct dream x reader#jaemin scenarios#nct scenarios#nct hard hours#kpop smut
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MOONTALK
pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN Reader.
summary: After retiring, Leon often has nightmares about his past. Talking under the moon's gaze seems to help.
warnings: Smut MDNI, just oral (m receiving), angst to fluff to smut hehe, mentions of death, violence, and alcohol, catholic symbolism, dad bod leon hehe (x2) subby leon, reader is called spouse.
word count: 3.5k
author's note: Hello! This is very simple since I'm trying to get better at writing smut for gender neutral readers :) There's not enough content and while I improve at writing the whole sex scene I shall bring you this! (I'm open to suggestions or constructive criticism.) As always, I hope you're having a good week!
The starry night is chosen to be Leon’s witness in the middle of his stolen slumber.
It’s a common occurrence, part of himself longs for the pain-filled activity since it serves as a reminder of his own life. Night terrors scare him more than his anxiety. The first one clings to his soul and threatens him with an inability to wake up. Helpless to his own mind, he prefers to be fully awake.
However, his brain isn’t his friend. Even when awake and aware of his surroundings, his mind would recreate scenarios he has lived before. Blood dripping and sticking to his combat boots, the smell of the iron-ish liquid filling his nostrils painfully making its home in Leon’s head, messing up with his perception of the world and himself.
Somewhere in that messed up path, he had found you.
He didn’t intend to, it wasn’t in his plans to. He had locked his heart and thrown the key somewhere in the sea of his failures.
A feeling of regret brimmed in Leon’s soul. How could his name be attached to yours if the sole mention of Leon Scott Kennedy brought memories of hell on Earth? A former rookie cop, ready to risk his life on duty turned into the government's best weapon. He’s made peace with that, ever since his mission in San Francisco his life has gotten significantly better.
But that doesn’t mean it has stopped hurting.
He once heard Jesus presented his left cheek to be slapped. In the past, he’d have imagined the mere thought of being that naive was ridiculous.
“You have heard that it was said, 'Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.' But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also.”
Now, that passage has been planted in his heart like a thorn that wouldn't go away no matter how much he pinched the skin. But rather than being a bothersome feeling, it shaped him into the man he is now.
He would never be Jesus, he knows that much. Ever since he was a kid, his connection to religion was always dangling between trust and distrust; faith and doubt. Fear crossed his juvenile and innocent expression whenever he came across a statue of the people’s lord and savior.
God bad, Jesus good. People good and bad. The Old Testament was the backbone for Leon’s hatred towards God. If this supernatural being ‘loved’ his people, why would he punish them?
Sins are ambiguous. Killing is bad. But if he had killed creatures that were no longer humans, is he a sinner without redemption?
He’s still coming around that last statement. Were they really no longer humans?
That’s why he prefers the New Testament. A fresh start, a new life being born. Jesus wouldn’t judge him for the man that he was and is.
And just like him, he turned his left cheek in a mission in San Francisco years ago, when he ended Maria’s life. Bitter and revengeful for killing her father, the woman made it her mission to murder Leon. But ultimately (and ironically) she ceased to exist in Leon’s arms.
‘Revenge’ was met with a ‘Now you can be with your dad again.’ Merciful, he had granted her a last moment of peace.
The soundless night heightens Leon’s senses. As he tries to brush off his worries, some footsteps break the unnerving silence that Leon is in. His ears focus on the soft pace that he easily identifies as yours.
Recognition turned into monotone and monotone into mundane. And don’t get him wrong, God he loves feeling he has finally found his home.
Leon’s arms are resting on the balcony railway, blue eyes focused on the starry night.
“You should be sleeping.” He flatly says without turning to face you. Not out of apathy but guilt. Not being next to you has woken you up.
“Can’t sleep without my husband.”
Sensing you approaching, he opts to tease, trying to divert your attention somewhere else. “Wouldn’t be my dear spouse if you weren’t clingy.”
“I’m not clingy.” But you wouldn’t allow Leon’s usual antics. You know them by heart, lighthearted jokes instead of facing reality. “I’m just worried,”
“You worry too much.”
“But I’m always right.”
A sigh.
Teeth biting the inside of his cheek.
“It’s hard to sleep sometimes.” The phrase is not directed at you, but a response to his own thoughts. For him, safe and sound sleep is a blessing he’s not lucky enough to receive.
“I know.” And then again, your reply isn’t about yourself. A feeble smile appears on your face out of empathy and partial understanding. Standing next to him, your elbows rest on the balcony railway, the chill air sending goosebumps through your skin. “Did you dream about something?”
Leon’s eyebrows knit in concentration as he mull over her question. When he tries recalling his past moment of slumber he is met with the usual gruesome scenario and the same gut-wrenching screams.
“Same old tale.” He exhales. In the past he would have had a glass of whiskey in his hand, tilting the content to one side as he gazed over the starry sky. But he made a promise, and as much as his past comes back to haunt him, he’d keep it.
“Is that it?”
“Yes.”
“Why I don't believe you?”
He brings a calloused hand to his mouth as he registers your words. Under the moonlight, his expression gives away his exhausted state, a hint of darkness around his eyes, a permanent faint frown.
“You don’t want to know.”
“Yet here I am asking.” It’s not until now that you notice Leon’s shirtless torso. Most of his scars are turning a light white color while his bruises are changing their hues. His body is not the same from a few years ago. His abdomen no longer shows off his chiseled abs but a slightly round and soft belly.
“Feels like I’m walking in circles.” He finally answers with his eyes closed. His restless mind can’t give him a break. Unable to completely live in peace, he finds himself pondering about his own humanity.
“The past is always clearer at night.” With an expression akin to resignation, he looks at you. “And the past tells me I’m a monster.”
The faint sound of the clock could be heard even when they were both gazing into the sky and letting their thoughts be consumed by the chill night. It reaches the dreaded ‘Devil’s hour,’ 3 AM.
“You aren’t a monster.” And it is the truth. While Leon is a complex man, it is not a difficult task to unravel and search through the layers he has covered himself in. His heart beats for the nation and therefore its citizens.
“If I’m not a monster then what am I?” He replies, his face growing somber. “If what I’ve done isn’t destruction what is it?”
“Salvation.”
It is far from salvation. It’s selfish to even think that way.
Sadly, Leon was the designated pawn to complete the job nobody wants to do.
Sadly, Leon is no more than a victim in the web of despair and destruction.
“Salvation.” He scoffs, a sharp ironic demonstration that your words weren’t the best. “I used to fight while the innocents kept falling at my feet.”
A glimpse of a past self appears in front of you. Chaos and loathing unfurls.
It’s been years since you last saw the man who used to drown himself in the deadly burning liquid. However, the alcohol no longer filled the empty spaces in his body and soul.
Truthfully speaking, nobody can fix or heal anyone. But you gladly took the role of being Leon’s partner in life. Not only romantically speaking. Silently, you made a home in Leon’s heart and he was too comfortable with you to ask you to leave him.
“You didn’t do it in the first place.” You place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “The government did.”
“But I was just another bullet in a gun.” He replies softly, his gaze drifting forward. Even after all of these years, he couldn’t completely shake off the guilt that kept haunting him. “Another man with his finger on the trigger… I was just a man with a gun.”
“And you’re also a man with a heart.” You respond immediately, not giving him a chance to continue his venom-filled words toward himself.
“If you were the demon you think you are, these late-night thoughts wouldn’t be haunting you as they do. You wouldn’t be mourning every soul even after all these years.” Your words bring a sense of comfort amidst the internal battle that is occurring inside him. The weight of his burden has always been more bearable with you.
“You think I’m that much of a saint?” A faint smile tug at Leon’s lip. A troubled expression on his face tells you he is still not believing your words. Or perhaps, he feels like he shouldn’t believe you.
“I don’t think you’re a saint. Humans are much more than black or white, good or bad. We are gray.”
Your statement is true. Humans are far from being one-dimensional beings. The balance has always been there and he knows it. When he was a child and religion was still an important part of his life, he remembers when Jesus protected Mary Magdalene.
‘He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.’
Leon had stained his hands with blood and gore, but he had also saved countless lives when the odds were against him.
“God… I’m pathetic, aren’t I?” He laughs, finally bringing you closer to him with his arm around your waist.
“No, you’re just human.” You reply, admiring the view your balcony provides, you think about the endless possibilities in life. If you hadn't met Leon, where would you be? And if Leon hadn't met you? How his life would look right now?
Universe works in mysterious ways, if you hadn't been in the right place at the right time, you wouldn't have your soulmate next to you.
A comfortable silence sets in as Leon finally relaxes and gives his mind a break. There were days and nights in which his brain was weak, but that doesn’t mean he hasn't gotten better.
“I would do laundry and taxes with you in every timeline.” You break the silence with a quote from a movie both of you had watched and Leon being the moviegoer he is, you know he’ll recognize it.
“That's not how the line goes, you silly.”
Bingo.
“Then enlighten me, Mr. I know every movie by heart.”
“It is ‘in another life, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.’” He states matter-of-factly which gains a laugh from you. But in a way, you’re used to his antics and almost nerdy personality only you get to see.
But your words mixed with the ones from the movie hold a glimmer of truth. Even in a timeline in which he wasn’t an agent and just a regular citizen, you’d have fallen for him. Because his past doesn’t make him the man he is now.
In another life, you’d love him over and over again.
“But I’d do all those things in this life and even in the afterlife.”
His eyes fall on you, the glimmer in them now being obvious. Just a few words from his love would pull him out from his depressive nights.
“You never cease to amaze me.”
“I’m just amazing like that.” You wrap your arms around Leon's neck while his hands rested on your middle section. “Now hug me because I’m fucking freezing.”
“Let’s go inside, shall we?” Laughing, he pulls you closer in a tight embrace. “I’d hate for you to catch a cold. Besides… I need my cuddling partner every night.”
As both of you move out of the balcony and away from the cold wind of the night. Leon’s hands move painfully obvious to your rear. After his late thoughts, he only wants to feel you close to him.
“I don’t think you want to cuddle.” You remark the obvious. Leon just chuckles, nodding.
“Aside from being the perfect partner you’re also a mind reader?”
You step in your bedroom. Place that has been witness to Leon’s most vulnerable moments, from the times in which he'd come back from a mission to the ones in which both of you would get lost in each other's bodies.
His sanctuary, your heaven.
You smile at him as you motion him to sit down on the bed. Both of your eyes are locked in a gaze that says what you are feeling, love. No matter how hard his or your days could be, both of you could always come back to a partner that takes care of them. No matter the situation.
As he takes a seat on the edge of the bed, you lean closer and press a kiss to his forehead, to his nose, to his cheek, and lastly to his lips. This last one lingers more than the others, sweet and slow, like how you want to treat him tonight.
“I love you.” You whisper as you pull back from the kiss, your thumb grazing over his stubbled jaw.
“Love you more.” He responds with the same tenderness you have brought him. After saying his words, his hands traveled to where your hips were, attempting to pull you closer.
“Nuh-uh. Tonight’s about you, sir.” You have your mind set that this night is going to be all about the perfect husband you have in front of you.
With that, your lips once again found their home but this time it was on Leon’s neck.
With your lips giving some attention to Leon’s sensitive skin, you treat him like he was fragile porcelain.
After a few moments, you slowly lower yourself until you're between his thighs. Another reminder of how much his body has changed, his thighs were fuller and bit less toned than before.
He has seen you like this before, on your knees and with the sweetest of looks but dear God it gets better every day.
You press your cheek against Leon’s inner thigh, your hand rubbing the flesh that is still covered with his sweatpants. He was no longer an active agent therefore he had gained some weight which you completely love. He blames the alcohol he used to drink so much and the lack of high-impact exercise. But you always reassure him that you love him nonetheless.
Your hand creeps to his clothed crotch, you gently trace along the bulge that has already formed. Leon’s breath is starting to get heavier but nothing too scandalous, for now.
“I haven’t even touched properly and you’re already this hard.” You are trying to be gentle, but there’s something about having control over him even when you’re on your knees that just prompts you to tease him a hit.
“Might as well cum in the spot, don’t you think? Bet you’re already imagining me pulling down your boxers and stroking your cock.” The face Leon was making could send you straight to heaven.
“You’re the devil…” Leon tries, he tries to gather himself by making a joke. But his high-pitched speech comes out pathetic. A rebuttal? More like a whine.
“What? My handsome husband can’t handle the spice? I expected better.” The praise seems to hit a spot somewhere in his body because the way his hips just bucked and sought the friction of your hand was contradictory to his previous words.
“Please…” And after that whimper, you no longer want to tease the man. Especially tonight in which he deserves the best.
“Ok, ok. I gotcha…” You murmur, wasting no more time and pulling his sweatpants down. A wet spot is already formed in his gray boxers. Then again, more teasing words flood your mind but you brush them off.
With a gentle kiss on his inner thigh, your fingers hook around the fabric and slide it down. His dick springs forward, and as always, it makes your mouth water. It’s the same image as always, slightly curved lenght with veins you had memorized by now and a reddish tip that tells you how bothered and pent-up he’s been.
Marriage has always been depicted as a boring and monotonous lifestyle, in which you get bored of your spouse after a couple of years. In a sense, you understand where they come from. However, Leon and you always made sure to keep things interesting, and as corny as it sounds, both of you try to make the other fall in love again.
You press a kiss on his tip, holding back a laugh as you know how sensitive he must be. The slightest touch has him gripping the bedsheets.
“You’re teasing.” He says as his lips form a pout. His calloused hands flatten on top of your hair
“Am I?” You give his shaft a few kitten licks, not breaking eye contact while doing so.
Finally, your shenanigans are followed by your lips wrapping around his tip, sucking the area. That gains a whimper out of Leon, the ones you’re so used to.
When you first met the stoic agent, you wouldn’t have thought that he’d be so vocal in bed. Even when he was supposed to be on top, he’d let the most beautiful moans against your ears. asking for permission to continue, asking for permission to fill you up.
For a moment, your lips continue sucking off his tip. Your saliva coating the area and sloppily making out with the head of his dick. Your fingers wrap around the base of it, almost overwhelming Leon with the amount of attention he is receiving.
“Ah — Fuck…” His eyes roll back as you finally take him whole. The previous ministrations long forgotten as your mouth and part of your throat surround his sensitive cock.
You bob your head, slowly at first, controlling your breath as Leon involuntarily thrusts his hips making his tip hit the back of your throat. You place your hand on Leon’s thigh, to motion him to stand still.
“Shit — sorry, sorry…” His voice gets slightly higher, now his previous words turn into pleas or straight-up moans. Drool pools at the corner of your mouth as your tongue runs on the underside of his cock.
“Too good for me…” He’s reduced to just babbles and whines, his knuckles turn white as keeps on gripping the bedsheets, an awful attempt to drown more moans. As you continuously bob your head, Leon could feel his high coming.
Unconsciously and given his dazed out state, he brings his leg to your shoulder. You were completely focused on him and this simple action made your concentration break a bit. He’s putty in your hands, his brain no longer functioning whenever you are in control.
You’d edge him, you’d definitely tease him for that. But now, you just continue sucking him off with the inner side of his thigh brushing against your cheek.
“I’m gonna — Fuck…” It’s not a warning, but a comment, a needy announcement. As much as he denies it, there’s not a better image than seeing you covered with his cum, or watching you swallow it whole. It made him feel a sense of pride, knowing that his spouse is the one making him come undone.
And as your tongue runs along a vein, he couldn’t contain it any longer. With a high pitched whine and throwing his head back, he spills down your throat.
The warm liquid fills your mouth and some of it drips from the corner of your lips.
You stay still for a moment, collecting every last drop of Leon’s cum. When you feel Leon’s hand on your shoulder —the one that doesn’t have his leg on it— you know he was asking you for a break.
Pulling out with a pop, you gently move his leg for him to rest.
For a few seconds, you just massage your jaw as Leon tries to recover. Heavy breaths fill the dark room, allowing you to relax once again.
“You good?” You ask as you are sitting down on the floor.
“Yeah — Just… give me a second.” He laughs, closing his eyes. A loving smile forms on his face.
You laugh too, getting up from the floor, you admire the scene Leon provides you: All of his body exposed to you, his sweatpants and boxers pooling at his ankles, and his fucked out expression.
Heaven.
After a minute or so, Leon composes himself.
“I’ll make sure to wake up every night if this is the treatment I get.”
“Next time I will just tie you up to the bed.”
“Oh? I like the sound of that.”
Laughing, you slap his naked chest as he pulls you closer. Nights like this are a reminder of his humanity and his right to love and to be loved. The past can never be changed or forgotten, but he can learn from it.
💬shadesoflsk: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.
author's note 2: I just had to mention eeaao! It's one of my favorite movies and I know Leon would love it. Sorry if it was too sappy of me but then again... I'm always like that.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy smut#resident evil#resident evil x reader
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࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃 He once was mine
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim!reader (main couple)
(side couple) Adam x Seraphim!reader ┈➤
જ⁀➴ Summary : After he fell from grace, you did your best to move on. Drowning yourself in knowledge, hoping that if you continued to fill your mind with information, you’d eventually forget about him. All the effort you put into it was useless in the end and everything came crumbling down after you met his daughter.
જ⁀➴ Warnings: mentions of killing, betrayal (?), self-isolation, curse words, self-neglection, mentions of wounds and injuries, not proofread; there might be grammatical errors, mc is a workaholic insomniac
જ⁀➴ Note: this is kind of an alternate version of the mc's background story from my series ‘medical haywire’, so the events here would still be similar to the one in my series, just slightly altered. Also, the mc here has the same profession as the mc in medical haywire, aka a doctor and stuff (can u tell what my fav profession is)
part two
╰⪼ As one of the first seraphims to exist, you’ve witnessed how heaven grew and bloomed. With curious eyes, you’ve seen how everything developed. You were one of, if not, the only seraphim who held such interest in new knowledge. God knew, and he commended you for it, creating libraries as big as mountains, thousands of books in your care. You were in no doubt the most favored one, you were the brightest, kindest, and purest, after all.
Which is why Lucifer knew he could tell you about his plan. You’ve been together since the beginning of everything. The trust in your relationship was unshakeable. Undeniably, you two were the closest, always seen together in the libraries you manage, strolling around the city in your free time, and everywhere in general. Everyone knew of the intimacy in between the two of you, and it was adorable.
When Lucifer first told you about his plan, you were skeptical at first. He expected it, though what he didn’t expect was for you to try and convince him to not do it. Spewing nonsense about what his father would do to him if he found out. You wanted to join Lucifer, you really did. Just as how he supported your wants and wishes, you wanted to do the same for him. But you knew too well not to do so.
You didn’t want to go against everything heaven stood for. You had your duties and responsibilities, you needed to prioritize the well-being of heaven over anything and everything. Your heart clenched at Lucifer’s next statement, eyes going wide as you tried to reach for him.
“It’s either me or them.”
You were conflicted, so much. All of your hard work into helping the development of heaven, all of your friends, every thought about the consequence of your choice spiraled deep within you. Why did you even need to choose?
Lucifer knew what he was getting himself into, he thought about the risks, but chose to ignore them. He knew what his stand was, he won’t waver for anything, or anyone. He didn’t want to make you choose a side, but with his plan, he knew he’d be separated and divided from heaven.
“Lucifer- please, just-”
Each plea that came from your lips was not the answer he was seeking, not the answer he was expecting. Your voice was brittle and quiet, but he heard each word loud and clear. You did not agree to his plan, and that itself was obvious with how hard you were trying to stop him.
You watched when he was banished from heaven with Lilith, the first female human that God had created. You couldn’t deny that unsettling and disgusting feeling in the pit of your stomach when you found out about it, how he fell from grace with another woman. But you knew why he chose her, to rule hell alongside with. She was the one who supported him when he needed it, she was the one who helped him, even though everything didn’t go according to Lucifer’s wishes.
Despite that melancholic feeling that crept up on you, you were still glad that he wasn’t alone through it all, that he had someone he could hold close and cherish, and someone who would do the same for him. No matter how much it cracked your heart.
Every day that you spent without him was absolute misery. The guilt about not being able to help him ate you up from the inside and out. Each time you entered one of the libraries you would spend most of your time in, you always reminisced about how he used to run through these shelves, how he would childishly complain about a certain book being so high up on the shelf and that he can’t reach it. He wouldn’t stop pestering you about reaching it for him until you eventually give in, handing it to him and watching him beam with joy (even though you know he won’t actually read it).
You would start to lock yourself up in the libraries, avoiding anyone who tried to get a word with you. Each time someone wanted to speak with you, you’d remember the way he’d come up and join the conversation passively, excusing both you and him, claiming to have important business to attend to. Successfully whisking you away from the others, grinning to himself now that he has you to himself.
You still did your duties as a seraphim, yes, but any interaction outside of that would be non-existent. As soon as a meeting ends, you would immediately leave. Though the longer you stayed alone in the libraries, the more you started to resent being there. The memories you had with Lucifer were all nothing but good ones, and it pained you so much.
When Adam first arrived in heaven, you would remember how he often received wounds from a few accidents when he was still getting used to having and using his wings. You were just in one of the libraries in the city when he came in suddenly. He thought that this place was boring and that no one would find or see him here with the new scratches he got while still trying to learn how to fly properly.
You were slightly irritated at first, but to witness the first ever human, now an angel, struggle to adjust to this new lifestyle, it was feeding your curiosity like a feast. He’d just shrug it off, trying to act like it isn’t a pain in the ass to take care of (his ego took a hit when you told him to be less reckless and clumsy next time). He’d usually stay for almost a whole week, waiting for the wounds to completely disappear, and to be in his presence was annoying for you. So you reluctantly treated his wounds, you had enough knowledge on how to treat them, so you thought that maybe if you treated his wounds, he’d leave sooner.
He didn’t admit it (and he won’t), but the tingling feeling in his stomach was a very obvious indication of his appreciation and gratitude for your actions. He was still pretty much down about the issues with his previous wives, again, he won’t admit it, but knowing you were there to help take care of him even when he didn’t need it, he was happy.
And the fact that no one in heaven, even the other Seraphims and Archangels, has been graced with your care in eons, aside from him, that filled him with a sense of pride. Sometimes, he even thought of purposely getting himself hurt just for you to treat his injuries, but he decided against it, he didn’t want his pride to take a hit. Though when he does get injured, he immediately goes to you without hesitation, much to your dismay.
It made you realize that some accidents may happen in the future if more humans eventually came to heaven, so with a little hesitation, you sought to meet God after not seeing him in so long. You wanted his permission and insights about opening a place for those who need assistance that involved their health and well-being. You also stated your concerns about how pregnant angels would need a place where they can properly give birth.
God would’ve been surprised, seeing you out of the comfort of your libraries, but he expected this. There was a reason why he held you in high regards, because out of all of his creations, you were the one that cared for the others the most. Despite your initial reluctance to come out of your shell, you pushed through for the sake of your people’s health and comfort.
Everyone who knew you long enough missed the old you. God himself included. He thought about your plans, and wondered if this could be the key to shaping you back into your old self. He agreed to your ideas, not just for the sake of heaven’s future, but to see if granting this would give you your spark back.
Just as how he provided you with your libraries, you were given everything you could have needed for your goal. Everything started off small, but as heaven’s population grew, so did your little medical company. You were getting busier and busier that your duties piled up like mountains.
The libraries you used to manage started getting more attention by heaven’s residents, so you had to focus on that as well. You created a number of books during the time you were trying to forget a certain someone, though your books weren’t about him, no. Most of them being about information on an angel’s biology and all its wonders. While the rest were about instructions in treating a wound and such.
With each day that passed, you buried yourself in your work. Your diligence was another thing everyone praised you for, you always got the work done perfectly and on time. But when you heard of Sera's decision about the extermination they were planning, you wanted nothing more than to just run away and finally have a break. As per her request, which you obviously expected, you were to monitor all those angels who were chosen to participate in the extermination. You had to keep an eye on their health and overall condition to ensure that nothing would go wrong.
Everything went as expected on the first extermination. It was successful, but many of the exorcists returned with numerous, minor injuries such as scratches and such. You wanted to scold Adam for his ridiculous leadership, can’t he do better in training and providing them with proper fighting gear? Then again, you couldn’t care less anymore about anything involved with the extermination. You wanted to focus more on the current events in the city publicly instead of those private matters.
As the years flew by, you barely interacted with anyone other than God, Sera, and Adam. You spent all of your time howled up in either your office or the lab. You would usually report your medical areas’ performances to God from time to time, while with Sera, you would discuss your seraphim duties and responsibilities. And with Adam, topics about the extermination and stuff which involves it would usually fill your conversations.
Each day was a never ending cycle of the same tedious things that need to be done. Sleep wasn’t part of your vocabulary anymore, no, it’s not even in your dictionary anymore. Aside from the creator himself, you had the most knowledge and wisdom about almost everything. You wouldn’t say it was worth losing all your time for leisure, but there’s nothing you could really do now.
With how packed your schedule was, you haven’t seen the light of day in so long. You barely have time to rest, nonetheless go outside. You weren’t really complaining, you felt more comfortable surrounded by knowledge and machinery rather than people.
You haven’t been able to visit your libraries because of how busy you are. And you doubt you’ll ever be able to after you were informed that the extermination schedule was changed from once a year to every six months. If you could just quit your job, you would’ve done so. Without hesitation.
The report you received about the exorcist that was beheaded kept your mind preoccupied. Surely, now that those demons know what they’re capable of doing to angels, you expect more bloodshed in the future. And you are not fond of the idea of more work. Seriously, what the fuck was Adam thinking?
With how busy you are now, you can’t even attend meetings anymore. Sera and the others understood your situation, so most of the time they’d just send you the summary of the meeting after. You were grateful that they understood instead of forcing you to attend. Just as the piles of work you had to do grew more and more, you started taking in too much caffeine to stay up. How ironic, as someone who advises and treats others involving their health, you barely took care of yours.
Adam would never admit it, nor anything for that matter, but he deeply missed his little interactions with you. He was already sour enough that you needed to take care of others now too, not just him, but he was grateful that you helped monitor his exorcists' health and condition. He made the decision to move the extermination day partially for his entertainment, but deep inside, he hoped that he’d see you more often because of this. He was quite disappointed that because of his decision, you got busier and busier. He was already pissed with that, but the fact that the princess of hell wanted to meet, man, what a pain.
.
.
.
.
.
꒰ ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･
Excitement brewed inside Emily as she waited for the princess of hell to arrive, her sister, Sera, right by her side. With all the curiosity she held for hell and demons, she was ecstatic when she heard about the meeting. She wanted to tell you everything, from the information about the meeting to the knowledge she’ll receive about the residents of hell. She was the one who was tasked to report everything that happens every meeting to you. That was how you met her, you two would usually converse through technology, but recently, she’s been frequenting your office. Which you appreciate since you didn’t need to leave the hospital for a meeting.
She welcomed both the princess and her girlfriend with a bright smile, St. Peter and Sera greeting them as well. She was really happy about showing the newcomers around, it showed in her aura and energy, while Sera was more on the calmer side.
Charlie, on the other hand, was slightly nervous. Though she tried her best to brush it off, hoping that no one would notice. This was her chance, if she were to do or say anything that the angels didn’t like, then everything she has worked hard for will all be for nothing. She was too focused on overthinking that she didn’t notice where they were. They stood in front of a cafe, it seemed so cozy and welcoming. She glanced around and noticed Sera’s absence, eventually, she turned to Emily when she heard the young seraphim speak.
“Sera went inside and ordered for us! Come on, it usually gets crowded inside there, so it's best if we wait for her here.”
Emily gestured to one of the tables that surrounded the cafe, smiling brightly as she watched both of the visitors take a seat and made themselves comfortable. They spoke about a few things before Sera came back, taking a seat next to Emily, right across from Vaggie. In a couple of minutes, their conversation was interrupted by one of the servers who held four strawberry parfaits in a tray. Everyone at the table thanked the server, though Vaggie only mumbled a small ‘thanks.’
The conversation continued, but Charlie’s nervousness slowly started coming back when Sera asked (on Emily’s behalf) about hell and the life there. She sweatdropped, she can’t say that hell was full of cocky, shitty, and power-hungry demons! Of course, not all demons were like that, but the majority of the demons in hell were, as described, cocky, shitty, and power-hungry. She let out a small laugh, trying to keep the cheery personality she previously had.
Her answer was mostly based on the demons who resided in her hotel. She described her experiences to have their ups and downs, but there were demons there that stayed with her and even supported her project! Her nerves started calming down the more she spoke about her friends and the hotel. Vaggie could only smile proudly at her, glad to see how joyful her girlfriend was when talking about her dreams.
Emily seemed to beam with happiness when the princess would talk about her life in hell, much more when she saw how highly she spoke of her friends. Unfortunately, she leaned in a little too close out of excitement, causing the table to slightly jerk forward towards Charlie who was in front of her. The young hell-born slightly jumped when it caused her glass of parfait to hit the floor. The glass shattered, both Charlie and Emily panicked.
Charlie immediately stood and tried to pick up the broken glance, not wanting to make a mess, especially since Sera was there. The young seraphim apologized profusely, standing from her seat as she moved around the table to get to the princess, who was being helped by her girlfriend. Sera called for one of the servers, who understood and grabbed his supplies to clean up the shattered glass.
Emily was immensely guilty when she realized that Charlie had accidentally wounded herself from the pieces of broken glass. She turned to Sera who went to inspect the wound in the princess’s palm. It wasn’t too deep, but enough that blood started to drip from her palm to the floor. Emily started panicking even more, even though Charlie told her she was okay.
Your clinic was just around the corner, so the young seraphim immediately fished out her phone and dialed your number. She was too paranoid about what happened, but still, Charlie was the princess of hell, she deserved to be treated with utmost care. So when you reluctantly agreed to sacrifice your 10 minute break to treat her friend (she didn't tell you that it was the princess of hell) , she quickly escorted the two lovers outside, Sera following close behind. She knew Emily had asked you for your help, but she and her sister both shared the same respect for those with high status, so she didn’t question any further, expecting you to be the one to treat the princess’s wound.
As a clinic came into view, Charlie wondered if she should open up a small clinic for the hotel as well. The most medical assistance that was ready in case of an accident were just a few first-aid kits, none of them really had much knowledge on how to treat wounds so she thought of hiring a doctor or a nurse soon. They were met with a lot of people and Sera separated from the group to speak with the receptionist while instructing Emily to bring the princess to your office.
The young seraphim nodded and led both of the visitors down the hallway. While walking, Emily apologized once again, her excitement brought pain to another, and she couldn’t bear it. Charlie assured her that she was okay, though the other still apologized. Vaggie just silently watched the two, holding her lover’s wounded hand with such gentle care.
As soon as your office came into view, Emily hurriedly knocked on the door. Once she heard a small ‘come in', she gestured for the two girls to follow her. The room was neat despite the many files they saw everywhere they looked. Their first impression was this person sure was busy as fuck, because damn that’s a lot of work. Their gaze eventually followed Emily when they saw her walk towards the table. Charlie immediately perked up when she saw you. A sense of nostalgia hit her as she stared longer at your form. You seemed familiar to her. Memories of when she and her father would draw together came rushing back to her. She'd remember seeing her father draw their family, of course. Her mom, him, and little Charlie. Though there was a time that she caught her father draw an unfamiliar lady. With how her father drew this lady, it led her to believe that she was beautiful. And she couldn't miss the fact that you shared some resemblance to the mysterious lady.
You were frozen in place when your eyes fell on her. The atmosphere suddenly became tense, Vaggie taking a step closer to Charlie out of protectiveness. Your aura wasn’t menacing and hostile, no, but it was unreadable, just like your expression. Emily watched with a tilt of her head, she was confused. Did you know the princess of hell or something?
With wide eyes and a mouth slightly agape, you watched the young hellborn stare at you. Her eyes were exactly like his, her hair was the same shade of blonde like his. Everything about her seemed similar to him.
Then it hit you. Everything that you’ve worked so hard to forget, every act of effort you made just to relieve yourself of the pain, in the end, it was all for nothing when you realized the bittersweet truth.
You were staring at his daughter.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel sera#hazbin hotel emily#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel charlie#charlie morningstar#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer morningstar
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*Part 2 is here. Third and final part is here*
Imagine unrequited love with Chuuya.
You didn't mean for it to happen, really. The feelings had just suddenly seized you one day, filling you with a rush of warmth so overpowering that it was certain you could never look at him in the same way again. Whenever he looked at you, with those blue eyes of his that reflected the beauty of the skies and the seas- or whenever he offered his hand to help you with whatever you were stuck on, the very same warmth would erupt in your chest, spreading all throughout your body and ensnaring you in such heat that you would certainly have been crowned the title of Cupid's most lovestruck victim.
And who wouldn't fall in love with Chuuya Nakahara? He was strong, handsome, and rich- three qualities that would've already caught the attention of many people the moment they laid their eyes on him. Despite being somewhat violent and brash towards enemies, he was normally calm and thoughtful, alongside being respectful to anyone he deemed as harmless. Nobody could resist his unspoken charm- with you being proof of that.
But beneath that tough guy mask he showed to everyone was a soul so kind and loyal that anyone would weep at his tragic predicament. A soul that clearly didn't deserve to be trapped in the hellish depths of the Port Mafia, where his hands were stained innumerable times with blood; blood that had no right to belong on the palms of an angel. The very same palms that had held yours as you grew up alongside him all throughout the years, offering a strong and stable sense of support in the abyssal underworld of Yokohama.
You were the only person whom he was softer to. He was still rougher around the edges in the friendship, but you didn't miss the way that he would step in front of you protectively when you met a formidable enemy. Or when he would buy you something you'd only eyed for a second longer, not taking no for an answer as he placed the gift in your hands without expecting anything in return.
Those were only the tip of the iceberg. Chuuya had risked his very own life for you multiple times, even if he had tried to deny it with the statement that he had it all under control. He would also bandage your wounds for you, while scolding you about being too reckless on the mission. You knew that he secretly didn't mind treating your injuries, though. It was what best friends were for, afterall.
It was obvious that you had a special place in his heart.
And he had stolen yours.
You would've confessed to him first, if only he hadn't confessed about something else that made the words die on your lips as soon as it left his.
"Hey, Y/N, can I tell you something? You must promise to keep it a secret though."
You looked up at Chuuya, who was standing with his hands in his pockets. The two of you were currently standing on the balcony of the apartment that the Port Mafia provided for it's subordinates, with the city of Yokohama serving as a witness to the moment between the two of you. A pair of best friends whom shared a bond so deep and precious that it couldn't have been replaced by anything else in the world.
"Of course. You can tell me anything, Chuuya. I promise that I'll take it to my grave." You straightened up from your slouched position on the railing, facing him. Underneath the moonlight, he looked as gorgeous as ever- the epitome of beauty for all mortals to admire. As if in response to the thought, your heart beat sped up, preparing you for the confession you'd tell him after he finished speaking.
Chuuya inhaled a short breath, before releasing it in a quick sigh. You tilted your head, staring at him with curious eyes, despite just wanting to grab him by the shoulders and profess how much you loved him. Surely he must have felt the same way you felt towards him, right? Even Mori had noticed how the executive acted different around you compared to everyone else.
Just say the three words already, you silently begged.
"I like Yasuko."
You blinked.
Time seemed to come to a stop as you wondered if you had heard him wrong. But you knew that you didn't.
"T-The civilian girl that you managed to save from an enemy organisation a few months ago?" You cursed at the stutter, but Chuuya didn't seem to notice. Instead, he seemed to be... shy, almost. The look in his eyes had noticeably softened at the mention of her name- a look that he never gave you in all the years of your friendship with him.
"Yes. She wanted to repay me for my help, and I somehow couldn't say no to her. Then after getting to know her for a few months... I realised that what I felt for her was stronger than what I felt for anyone else. She makes me feel... safe. Warm. Like she was a haven I could always return to." Each word felt like an iron-hot knife being stabbed into your heart, with the blade twisting deeper and deeper into your flesh as you slowly comprehended what Chuuya was telling you.
"... That's great," You forced yourself to say, smiling at him through your pain.
"She deserves someone as gentlemanly and loyal as you. Someone who would never hesitate to put her needs before his. Who would treat her right and make all the other ladies jealous of the pure love you have for her."
Your heart was shrieking at you, pleading for you to stop before all chances you had with him were gone. But you pushed your feelings behind the best-friend mask that you always wore around him. Chuuya's happiness was what mattered to you, even if it meant that you had to suffer for eternity to let that happen.
"You should tell her how you feel. Because I guarantee you that she definitely does reciprocate those feelings." You patted him on the shoulder, before heading back into the room so that he could make his decision.
He didn't know that you had collapsed onto the floor as soon as you shut the door behind him, clutching your chest as it threatened to tear you to pieces because of the pain. He didn't know that you had cried yourself to sleep that night, the hot tears staining your pillow that muffled the sounds of your heartbreak so that you wouldn't alert any of the other residents. And he didn't even need to know, because his eyes were focused only on Yasuko.
He took your advice, confessing to the girl a few weeks later with a bouquet of roses and the finest chocolate that you could find in Yokohama; and just as you predicted, she harboured the same feelings towards him. They were the sweetest couple ever, and your best friend genuinely appeared the happiest that you had seen him. His new girlfriend was nice, polite, and slightly shy- an angel truly fitting for the kind sinner that Chuuya Nakahara was. Hell, you even met her a few times, and any sort of dislike you harboured towards her seemed to disappear whenever she smiled that innocent smile at you. How could you hate her when she never did anything bad to you or your friend?
The butterflies in your stomach now turned to shards that pierced your chest whenever you saw him with Yasuko. Those loving eyes that you had stared at him with were now full of pain and longing, housing a heart of glass that already shattered long ago. Yet you covered it all up with a smile and your usual expression, even when it hurt so damn much.
It was you who stayed by his side when the Sheep betrayed him. It was you who comforted him and assured him that he was human even as he doubted it. It was you who held him close that night when he lost his friends after the Dragon's Head incident. And it was you who never left him ever since he joined the Port Mafia.
But why was it her that he fell for? Someone that he only knew for a couple of months, whilst you had known him for seven years. Seven long years of special camaraderie; of hurt, of loss, and of growth. Things that he could never hope to achieve again with Yasuko.
Was it because you were a killer? A monster that had taken away countless lives, and would continue to do so with no restraint for many years to come? Did Chuuya only decide to stay best friends with you because he pitied you? Or did he laugh about your foolish, helpless self with his girlfriend- his sweet sweet girlfriend that giggled and kissed him happily whenever he pulled her closer in private?
La Douleur Exquise, the French called it. The exquisite pain of pining after someone, knowing that it would never be returned even if you gave up your life for them. How fitting that the language of love would describe your situation perfectly.
Oh, how cruel it was, that fate decided to trap you in it's web of misfortune and laughed at your face as you tried so hard to move on from him.
You loved him dearly, but he would never come to reciprocate that love. How could he, when it was Yasuko that was the one he clearly needed and adored? Just like how a flower in the dark yearns for the light, you yearned for Chuuya to look at you like how he looked at her, even if it was for one second.
But you knew that it was impossible.
Because no matter how deeply you felt about him, his heart would forever belong to someone else.
Someone who wasn't you.
@circinuus @riiwrites @ruanais @sariel626 @chocsra @oldworldpoolhall @yuugen-benni @yasu-masashige @justcallmesakira @heartsfourdazai @i-just-like-goats
#silverbladexyz#bsd x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#bsd x gender neutral reader#bsd x female reader#bsd x male reader#chuuya x reader#chuuya nakahara x reader#chuuya angst#chuuya x female reader#chuuya x male reader#chuuya x gender neutral reader#unrequited love#... yeah I was in an angsty mood when I wrote this#forgive me 😭
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HOME IS A FEELING
— former high school sweethearts reunite for a conversation about what went wrong 🌃
——
"Don't turn around."
The vague statement thrown your way sends speculations trickling through your brain. Those three words usually never mean anything good. What is it? Or who is it? Whatever the mystery, it makes you anxious based on your friend's wary expression.
"Just tell me," you say timidly, becoming tense in the diner booth with a forkful of red velvet cake halfway to your mouth. "Tell me so I don't have the urge to actually turn around."
"Your ex," she mutters, never one to beat around the bush, much to your appreciation. "He just walked in. Don't kill me for saying this, but he looks really good."
You kick her foot under the table and sink further into the leather seat. "Why is he here? He's supposed to be in another country."
It's not an exaggeration or falsity. Harry is supposed to be in not only another country but also another continent entirely—the Netherlands, to be exact.
Your friend risks another glance at the front door. "Well, he's back, and it's like he never left. Look at them..." She shakes her head slowly. "Hyping him up like he's a goddamn hero."
You assume she means the people you went to high school with. A hometown get-together with a small crowd of classmates from nearby colleges is being held at everyone's favorite local retro-style diner to celebrate the last week of summer break. It was going swell until Mr. Marine Biologist, who probably makes studying abroad his whole personality, waltzed through the door.
You cradle your left cheek with your hand to create a shield for your face in case he happens to look over. "I'm almost done with my cake, and then we can leave."
"Good luck," she sings. "The only booth open is the one right behind us."
Of course. Sighing, you silently pray that Harry won't come near you. You doubt he'll try to talk to you anyway since it's been complete radio silence on both ends for over two years. You're really hoping the breakup doesn't get brought up.
A sudden and forceful compulsion tells you to catch a quick glimpse to see how he looks, what he wears nowadays, and how he acts when you're not around. It's hard to resist.
"He's coming this way," alerts your friend through a spoonful of vanilla ice cream.
The universe must be listening, and you can't combat the urge anymore. Someone as beautiful as him begs to be looked at. You sure as hell didn't break up with him because he was unattractive.
Subtly peeking to your left, you see Harry in person for the first time in what seems like forever. It's only a short window of time where you can take in his presence as he walks closer to sit with a group of people in the booth behind you.
Black skinny jeans. Nothing has changed there.
Chelsea boots. Since when does he wear those?
A gray, tattered sweater, and a blue beanie. It's summer, for crying out loud.
Most surprising, however, is his hair, which now falls just a tad below his jaw. The same soft curls you would run your fingers through until he fell asleep.
You continue picking at your dessert, your mind running a mile a minute at the sight of him. The fact that he's behind you—thankfully facing the other way—but still inches away nonetheless is nerve-wracking. If you move your head back even the tiniest bit, it'll touch his own.
Did he notice you? Does he know his ex-girlfriend is in the same room and thinking about everything he could be thinking? Like how you never forgot about him as much as you tried to?
He's speaking, but you can't piece together what he's saying because you're too distracted by how his voice has deepened over the years. The rasp and British drawl are still there, and the warmth and comfort of it still make your heart race.
Your friend keeps stealing glances and looking at you with apprehensive eyes that cause prickles of anxiety on your skin. "What?" you whisper.
Before she can reply, you feel something nudge the back of your neck. You strain your peripheral vision and see Harry's elbow resting on the top of your booth.
"Oops, sorry," he says, twisting around in his seat.
You automatically turn and look at him. It's impossible not to since he's like a human magnet for the eyes. His face is so close to you now. Have his eyes gotten greener? Why does he have such beautiful lashes? Does he have more freckles on his nose since you saw him last?
Snap out of it!
"It's fine," you mumble, shaking your head and quickly turning around. Your heart feels like it's in your throat.
Finishing the rest of your dessert, you lean forward so he doesn't accidentally bump you again. Your friend raises her eyebrows at you and taps her foot against yours.
"So, your brother is coming to visit soon?" you ask, ignoring her questioning look and attempting to make any sort of conversation to distract from Harry.
"Yeah, tomorrow. My mom is going to weep happy tears."
"Aw. Remind me to visit her before the semester starts."
The leather seat suddenly squeaks behind you, and your breathing goes uneven for the third time tonight.
"You guys want anything to drink?" Harry asks his group of friends.
They all tell him their desired orders, and shortly after, you see him walk past your booth. He heads toward the counter with long strides and hands he doesn't know what to do with. His back is turned, so you use your chance to shamelessly observe him. He looks different but familiar all the same. He has the same body, although he looks buff. Same friendly personality, although you've missed out on it lately. Same gentle presence, although it wasn't that way the night you separated.
"Didn't you once tell me that he always ordered ginger ale at restaurants?"
You look at your friend, processing her question. "Yes. He never mixed it with anything, either. Just drank it straight up like a freak."
"Gross," she says with a wince. "I think he just ordered one."
Once again, the counter is your focal point; this time, you notice the glass of creamy yellow liquid on it. You internally gag at how Harry could still drink that. Harry then walks back to his booth, skillfully carrying two glasses in each of his hands like he worked as a waiter in his past life. You don't even try to hide the fact that you're staring.
Eventually, he catches your eye and abruptly stops in his tracks. You watch him blink a couple times before he continues to the table and sets down the drinks for everyone.
"I'll grab some napkins," he murmurs, leaving again.
You slide your empty plate toward the center of the table and watch him fumble while taking out napkins from the dispenser. Why is he so nervous all of a sudden?
When he walks by for the second time, he jerks his chin up to the ceiling. You furrow your eyebrows in response.
He nonchalantly repeats the gesture as he starts passing napkins around. You shake your head, nonverbally telling him that you have no clue what he's conveying.
His jaw clenches before he mouths, "Come with me."
"Absolutely not," you mouth back as you fiddle with the sugar packets.
Harry huffs and sits in his seat.
Everything used to be so easy with him.
——
Two Years Ago
It was graduation day, and you were inserting a silver hoop earring in the pierced hole of your earlobe when three thumps gently rattled your bedroom door.
"Knock knock."
In the reflection of your vanity mirror, you grinned giddily. "Come in! It's unlocked."
Harry opened the door with a pout on his lips. "You're supposed to say who's there."
"Wha—" you stammered confusedly, turning around in your chair. "I hate you."
He shuffled inside and immediately bellyflopped onto your bed. "Wow. I missed you too."
"Just kidding," you said, flashing him a winning smile. "You left your laptop charger here, by the way. I set it on the kitchen table."
"Thank you, baby," he mumbled into your pillow.
"Don't fall asleep."
"Mm, c'mere." He lazily patted the space next to him. "Let's cuddle before we have to sit far away from each other for the rest of the night."
"It'll only be for a couple of hours at most," you replied, putting in your other earring. "Don't be so dramatic."
After tidying your vanity area, you stood and slinked into bed with Harry. The lavender-colored sunset filtered through your sheer curtains and created a serene ambiance. Harry's body rolled over on top of yours, his weight providing the perfect amount of warmth and comfort. The scent of his almond oil shampoo reduced your nerves. You reached for your phone and set an alarm for fifteen minutes from now so he would have enough time to get ready, then pulled the blanket over both of your heads, not caring if the hair you spent precious time on became tousled. It would mostly be hidden under the immensely unflattering graduation cap anyway.
Harry's clean-shaven cheek rested on your chest, and he planted a chaste kiss on your collarbone. He had always been the affectionate type. Touch was his love language, and he never failed to fulfill it with you.
Every touch strengthened your love for him. Every touch left you longing for more. Every touch felt purposeful.
——
You swear he's doing it on purpose. You know he is.
Harry keeps leaning his head back until it faintly touches yours. Nuzzling it, if you will. That, or he'll clasp his hands behind his head and loosely twirl a strand of your hair.
This time, he pretends to yawn and stretch his arms before tickling behind your ear. He knows goddamn well it's the place where you're the most ticklish. You pretend to have an itch and bring your hands back to slap his burning touch away, but of course, he takes the opportunity to be a pest and capture your fingers.
You yank them away and clear your throat. "I need to go to the bathroom," you tell your friend before getting up and making a beeline straight to the back of the diner.
When you open the door, you sigh relievedly when you find all the stalls open, and no one is lingering. You pace toward the farthest wall and rub your hands down your face. Two years without Harry, and not a single call or text, only the occasional picture you'd see of him when you caved and scrolled through his social media during particularly lonely nights. Yet tonight, he acts like you're best buds who can tease each other and initiate playful touches like you didn't end on a terrible note that made both of your hearts shatter into smithereens. Maybe this is some bizarre dream you'll wake up from and laugh about later.
You blow out a sharp breath and wash your hands before splashing cold water onto your heated cheeks.
"Were my hands dirty or something?"
Your whole body flinches. Now, he's just plain annoying. How long has he been standing there?
"Why are you in here?" you ask monotonously.
Footsteps come closer. You keep your back turned.
He laughs softly and says, "How've you been?"
Such a master at avoiding questions. "That wasn't what I asked."
"That wasn't an answer," he replies smugly. You can practically hear the satisfied smile in his voice.
"I've been fantastic, Harry," you say, your words laced with petty sarcasm. "What about you?"
"You sound stressed." He's right next to you now. "Is it because of your job? I heard you're an assistant teacher at the middle school."
Your hands grip the edge of the marble sink. "Who told you that?"
"I knew you'd be here," he says, as if it were obvious. "I had to ask people what you've been up to since you clearly weren't going to tell me yourself."
He asked about you? No, that can't be right. Turning to face him, you let your guard down just a little. "I'm helping with the summer school program."
Harry smiles. If you analyze it enough, it almost looks like a proud one. "That's amazing. What grade do you want to teach in the future?"
A conversation with your ex-boyfriend about career aspirations is entirely too casual for your liking. Doesn't he have friends to catch up with? Some ginger ale to drink?
You shrug and truthfully say, "I haven't decided yet. It's a big decision."
He nods, crossing his arms. "You've got time."
Silence hangs except for the drip of the faucet.
"So... I assume you're still studying marine biology?" you ask, already knowing the answer.
He hums an affirmation. "I'm almost done with my bachelor's degree, and then I'll be on my way to becoming one with the ocean."
You almost let a laugh slip out. "Well, I'm sure it's beautiful in Europe. I can't imagine the view every day."
He nonchalantly plucks a stray strand of hair off your sleeve, making your blood rush. "It is, yeah. It gets a little lonely sometimes, but it's been nice to live somewhere so different from what I was used to."
"You don't have a roommate?"
"Nope, just me. I don't really like sharing my space."
Only if it was with you. He's told you that before. Not that it matters now.
"I know. Don't know why I even asked."
It's a bold statement but a tenuous breakthrough in the barrier of the inevitable and awkward breakup conversation you're dreading.
Harry inhales and takes a step closer. "Come up to the rooftop with me. I don't want our first conversation in two years to be in the women's restroom."
You give him an apologetic look and say, "I'm sorry, but I can't. I have to head home soon and get up early for work tomorrow."
He toys with the bottom of your shirt. "Please."
It's a soft whisper that echos in the empty space, a begging tone chipping away at the walls built around your heart, paired with pleading eyes so clear and tender. Harmless.
"Okay." You'll kick yourself later for giving in so easily. "Okay, fine. Let's go." You pull out your phone and send a quick text message to your friend about where you'll be. She'll understand the weight of the situation.
Harry walks out of the bathroom, with you following behind. He takes a sharp right toward the concealed metal stairs leading to the diner's roof. He leaves some room so the two of you can walk side by side, your clothes rustling against each other in the narrow space. The rusty door opens, and you step out onto the flat concrete.
Little squares of light shine from the city buildings far away. They cause a strange feeling to wash over you. It can only be described as a powerful wave of hometown nostalgia, even though you never left. You wonder if it's hitting Harry as well.
He stands by the edge and leans his forearms on the railing, glancing at you with an unreadable expression. Is it reminiscence? Yearning? Regret? All could be the reason for the melancholy shift in energy.
"What did we do wrong?"
——
Three Months After Graduation
The party turned sour out of the blue. Harry's friend hadn't just said what you think he said. It was loud, so you must have heard him wrong. Why didn't he tell you? Why did you have to find out from his drunk friend who's not even close to him?
Harry definitely saw your face drop because he instantly pulled you into an unoccupied bedroom upstairs. You'd been arguing for the past half hour, neither one of you inebriated funny enough, but still throwing words that were more like weapons at each other—launching arrows at the heart, shooting daggers at the eyes, and slashing swords in the Achilles heel.
Your weak spot was him, and you were his.
You stood your ground as you spoke your closing statement with frustrated tears. "I'm never going to see you if you're abroad, so what's the difference if I just leave now and never see you again?"
"Will that make you happy?" He was being stubborn; you were, too. "Because obviously, I don't make you happy enough for this to continue. For us to at least try."
He did make you happy, but anger blindly leads people to say what they don't mean, especially in cases of love.
"Obviously not." Lies, lies, lies. "It's useless when we know it'll end badly."
Harry released a bitter laugh. "Fine. Have it your way."
"Fine," you repeated.
You should have fought for him, but what would have been the use if you had known it would only hurt you in the long run?
He roughly swung the door open and then turned around one last time. "You can come pick up your stuff at my house this weekend. I won't be home."
The door slammed shut, and reality sunk in.
——
The open sign of the diner flickers below.
"We did a lot wrong," you declare defeatedly, standing beside him.
"True, but we were eighteen and didn't know anything about communication or how to balance adult shit."
The conversation is heading toward a place you don't want it to go. "I really don't want to talk about our breakup, Harry. It's in the past. We've moved on."
He shakes his head. "Why? There was no closure whatsoever. I think it'd be good to get some now that we're face-to-face."
In the distance, you watch birds flock on the wire of a telephone pole. "Why didn't you just ignore me tonight? We've been doing fine without each other."
He scoffs quietly and leans his body against the railing. "Really? I was homesick for months because of you. You felt like home to me, you know that. The feeling never disappeared no matter how much I pushed it down."
You throw your arms out. "Then why didn't you call or text me? I would've replied, Harry. I'm not that cruel."
"I thought you hated me," he says. "I wouldn't have blamed you. I just couldn't stand having you hate me, so I thought it'd be easier not to talk to you."
It's the classic tale of a high school mindset. You think you're doing the right thing until it slaps you across the face with the hand of cluelessness. You wonder what would've happened if Harry had reached out. Maybe you could've figured it out.
"I didn't hate you," you admit. How could anyone hate him? "I mean, I might've thought that I hated you, but if anything, I still loved you for way too many months after."
Harry looks like he wants to say something, but you continue. "Like you said, we were young and didn't know how to balance a relationship and our lives outside of it. Two years can really mature a person, and we both needed to do that without each other."
He nods while stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Yeah."
The conversation stops at a dead end. There's nothing else to say since it's a mutual understanding of what went wrong.
The breeze picks up, and you shiver before asking, "How long are you here for?"
He clears his throat. "I'm staying with my mum, then I have a flight back to the Netherlands in a few days. I have to go back for an ecology camp."
"That's nice," you say. A couple of days. That knowledge causes an unwanted sinking feeling to take place in your stomach.
"Do you…" He raises his thumb to his mouth, nervously biting his fingernail. "Can we maybe talk more before I leave?"
It's an open opportunity, but what would it lead to? What would come of it? Would it be worth the pain?
"What's there to talk about? You're leaving soon, and then we'll never speak again."
You've taken logical truth more seriously over the years. You've learned that holding on to false hope is dangerous for the heart and mind.
"That won't happen," he replies with a pensive gaze. "We've grown and know how to communicate now. There's so much we've missed in each other's lives that we can talk about. I don't know where you live or the places you like to go anymore, who your friends are, or what new songs you like to listen to. It kills me."
A shaky breath escapes you. "It doesn't matter. We're not right for each other. Call me selfish, but I don't want a relationship where we barely see each other. I'm sure that's not what you want either."
"So, that's it?" he asks, staring at the sky. "Do you not want to give this another chance?"
You can't imagine a more complicated question to answer, but it seems you've known the answer for a while. Gently grabbing Harry's chin and tilting his face down, you say, "Right person, wrong time. It would never work with the distance, and you know that. Deep down, we both know, as much as it hurts to admit."
"What now? We're back to being strangers?"
"Harry, I don't think we'll ever be strangers. I know too much about you."
You're trying to lighten the mood, but Harry's sad eyes aren't helping at all. Instead, you focus on the stars twinkling brightly across the black sky and the single car driving by on the otherwise empty street. Every second that ticks by, he seems to move closer to you.
"If this is the last time I see you," Harry says apprehensively, "can I hold you for a little while? Give me that, and I won't ask you for anything else."
It'd be foolish to say no, wouldn't it? You need to feel him just as much. He's too significant of a person to let go of without a proper goodbye.
"You can hold me."
And so he does for the last time.
Harry closes the distance and embraces you like he always used to — his cheek resting on your head and his arms completely winded around you, squeezing the sides of your body. Breathing you in like he's scared of losing you. It's just you and him standing on a rooftop and holding on to any last bit you can get of each other.
You're tucked so far into his chest that the only thing you can hear is his heart pounding. He's warm and sentimental, and the nighttime chill makes you melt into him even more. He eases you — every laugh, every tear, every moment you share with him was brought about by the ease of being around him.
"You still feel the same." A pang ripples in your heart because of your own words, and a sob desperately tries to crawl up your throat.
Harry nuzzles his nose into your hair. "Yeah? You still smell the same."
You laugh, but it's choked with sadness. "What, like shitty teen store perfume?"
"No, you smell like home. Like when I used to go to your house for sleepovers, and you'd always light those vanilla candles."
Another pang, this time from his vulnerable confession. "I should go," you say, deterring the conversation from any more agony.
He doesn't argue. "Yeah, me too. I never really liked those people in there anyway."
You smile, stepping away from his arms. "I'll walk you to your car."
He nods, and the both of you retreat down the stairs, exiting the building through the back way to avoid any distractions. After reaching the front of the diner, you find his black Jeep sitting alone in a parking space. It's nice to know he still has it, considering it's a car with good memories, like Harry driving you to school every morning and picking up coffee. Or eating fast food outside the high school after a football game. Or nights of endless kissing and professions of love before he walked you to your doorstep.
Facing him under the moonlight tonight, it's time to officially move on.
"Bye. It was really nice to see you." A tear unexpectedly falls from your eye. Maybe it's due to the chilly temperature, but you know better.
Harry's face crumbles. Your composure shatters.
"Please don't cry," he pleads, biting his lip to stop it from wobbling. However, it's too late, and both of you give in to the misery and drama of it all.
"Now we're both crying."
He rubs his eyes and leans against his car door. "God, this fuckin' sucks."
"We'll be okay," you say weakly. "It's fine. We went two years without each other. You'll forget about me soon enough, and it'll be like this never happened."
You're only trying to convince yourself at this point.
"I never forgot about you. You were the first person I fell in love with. How do I move on from that?"
His choice of words isn't something you gloss over. Is he insinuating that he hasn't moved on yet? Should you tell him you haven't either?
Logical thinking, you mentally tell yourself. Don't say something that will make it harder to leave.
"I have to go home now." But isn't home standing right in front of you?
"Okay," Harry says. "I guess… good luck with everything. I hope teaching goes well for you."
You kick away a pebble on the pavement. "Thanks. I hope you become one with the ocean."
He laughs breathily, his dimples popping out for the first time tonight. He then inhales and gazes somewhere far away as his smile dies. When he looks back at you, he nods once before getting in his car.
"Wait."
He freezes. "Yeah?"
Don't make it harder.
Leave.
Don't hurt yourself.
Yet the way he looks at you is enough to ignore those logical thoughts. You lean forward and kiss his cold cheek, and it's like his entire body deflates under your hesitant touch. "Thank you for making me happy during the time we had together," you say against his tear-stained skin. "I never got to tell you that."
Harry sniffles and nods, then kisses your cheek a little longer and softer.
A lasting pang. A lingering sting. A sharp twinge.
Why?
Because the words he whispers to you cause silent tears to fall down your face when he finally closes the door and drives away.
You still mean so much to me.
——
Opening the door to your bedroom, the silence echoes louder than usual. The small space is where memories with Harry can still be found. There's the blanket he used to lie on, the desk he would sit on to help you study, and the dresser you used to keep his shirts in to wear when you missed him. The most tragic thing is an empty photo book on the top shelf of your closet that was meant to be filled with future road trips that never got planned. Next to it are unused polaroids for dates that stopped happening.
Piled at the bottom are a few that actually got used. A picture of Harry when the both of you went to a homecoming afterparty, and you didn't want to drink alcohol, so Harry drank orange Hi-C cartons with you to make you feel better. A picture of Harry on a floating water bouncer at the lake by your uncle's cabin when you went on summer vacation together after junior year. Your favorite picture of him is when he's turned around in the seat of the school auditorium, smiling widely. It was back in high school when nothing could separate you from him.
The pictures remind you of a time when you were in love—not only with him but with life. They feel like home to you.
That feeling of home seems impossible to catch now. It's like chasing a butterfly that keeps escaping from the loose grasp of your hands because you don't want to hurt it.
Are you the hands, or are you the butterfly?
——
The journal on top of Harry's suitcase mocks him. He shouldn't open it, but logical thinking has never been his strong suit.
The first page has pressed and dried lavender taped onto it from the first date he took you on. The next has your drawings in the margin from when you would steal his journal while he studied. Yet most of the pages are filled with lovesick entries about you.
- January 29th -
Last night, I told her I was falling in love with her. She said no one had ever told her that before, and I couldn't believe it. How could someone not instantly fall in love from the moment she walks into a room?
Then she told me that she loved me too. I swear I almost cried with happiness. She's the one for me. I see us being together for the long haul.
I hope she sees the same thing.
- June 6th -
We graduated! We're finally done with high school!
When they called my name, my eyes went to hers first. She looked so proud of me. I wonder if I could convince her to rent an apartment with me instead of staying in different dorms.
College will be strange, but we'll get through it together. I have no doubt we'll adapt and find time for each other.
I always have time for her.
- August 2nd -
I think I'm going to tell her about the college I chose. She's not going to take it well. It's abroad, but it's the best school for marine biology.
She wants to stay close to home, but I want to get out and travel. There's nothing hard about talking through some of our differences, right? Long-distance relationships can work if you put in the effort. We can do it.
If this ends up biting me in the ass, you'll never hear from me again.
Harry stopped writing in his journal after the breakup. It's almost funny, he supposes. He jinxed it in the last entry. He thought of the worst-case scenario, and it came to fruition right before him only days later.
Blissful ignorance is what he'll call it. Two high school sweethearts who didn't know what would hit them. Foolishly in love and blinded by reality. But the thing is, it's not easy to just move on from it. Especially when he brought those damn vanilla candles from his dorm room to his mum's house so he could sleep better at night.
So he can be reminded of home.
It was never a place when he was with you. Home became a feeling that bloomed without warning. It took him by surprise when he found himself wanting to be around you all the time. His home was entirely, ultimately, and unconditionally you.
Harry closes his journal and brings it with him as he heads out the door to search for a drop of that feeling in the places you used to go.
The places he will write about until his hand aches as much as his heart.
——
#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#harry styles x reader#harry styles angst#harry styles au#harry styles one shot#harry styles#adore-laur#home is a feeling
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leviathan of the cosmos
– tales of the voracity pathstrider
✎𓂃 something unto death as the respawning boss enemy, i haven’t finished 2.1 yet
when aventurine brings up traveling to the reverie hotel in the dreamscape alone, your eyes narrow ever so slightly and you take a step towards him. though you do truly worry for him, you can’t deny that you also want to take a peek at the off-limits-to-visitors area for yourself, too.
he’s been keeping you away from conflict, away from the dangerous games he plays on the daily, but you want to know. you want to see all that he is, his feats and evils, not just what he decides to show you. and if it means following him into the dreamscape, you won’t shy away from your quest of knowledge.
he doesn’t want you to enter the dreamscape reverie with him, but you’re very, very stubborn
“it’s dangerous for you,” he says, giving you the most serious look you’ve ever seen on him, like he’s genuinely concerned (he is)
you tilt your head. even without saying anything, he knows what you’re trying to say – you don’t understand where he’s coming from
he tries to explain, boy, he’s trying so hard to explain to you why exactly it’s a bad idea, but he feels like he’s talking to a wall
are you even listening? hello?
he can’t see your expression because your scarf is in the way, and your eyes betray nothing
for as much as he loves talking at you, this is the one time he wants you to give him a response
“you’re strong enough.” a statement, not a question, because this man is one of the ten stonehearts, and you know he has more power than he appears to have
well, yes. but, to be honest, he isn’t confident in his ability to protect you
death is a dangerous entity, and even if he’s certain he can hold his own against it…
what if it decides that you are its next target? you, who is so precious and lovely?
he doesn’t want to run the risk. he likes having you around, both as a friend and as a secretary, and the last thing he wants is to lose you
but you’re adamant. “there’s nothing to worry about,” you say, oblivious to all the worries running miles per second in his head
he feels like if he didn’t let you tag along, you’d just follow him anyway and that would be even worse
aventurine thinks he knows you well, perhaps even better than yourself, but turns out he’s just delusional. you’re so timid, so awkward, and when you’ve warmed up to him you’re still silent and brooding most of the time, how could he have known that you have so many cards hidden up your sleeve?
he’s just dealt with a few scattered crew from the dreamjolt troupe, but he might’ve made a little too much noise when he whacked the televisions
it feels like the entire floor’s enemies are attracted by the noise, even memory zone memes are showing up
he glances towards you, who’s doing a really good job at staying out of his way and avoiding attacks
way better than he expected
you don’t seem afraid, either. he can tell that you’re relaxed from your body language
one thing he’s worried about, though, is eventually attracting death
because that’s the one thing he’ll try his best to protect you from, but he isn’t certain if he can
he doesn’t think you can fight, and your lack of inclination towards conflict only reinforced that belief
sure, you’re built like a fortress and you’re intimidating, but he soon found out that you’re a big softie inside
which, even more unlikely that you can fight. you just feel so… vanilla
you feel like the type who’d try to de-escalate a situation that could otherwise be easily solved with fists
even if you look like your punches would send people into orbit, it's just so out of your character
he likes that about you, really, but sometimes he wished you have some combat skills
when death inevitably appears, aventurine’s heart drops. it completely ignores him and heads straight for you – perhaps it knows who’s stronger or weaker – its wing rearing back as it coils around you, picking you up by your scarf, and –
he goes pale. he immediately acts, invoking qlipoth’s protection
but he knows how swift death is, and how easily it will lay its claws upon you and take you from him
the shield he casts on you is easily broken in one, two, three slashes
does death penetrate armor? it doesn’t quite make sense – the kind of shield he confers should not have been so easily broken!
before he could even do anything, before he could even tell you how much he treasured you…
you’ll be gone, and he’ll be all alone again
he hates that. and you know he hates that, but what could either of you do?
for as far as he’s come, he’s still powerless to protect the ones he hold dear
he tries, he really does, but his attacks won’t reach death in time, nor will his shield reach you in time
it’s dead set on taking your life, and it’s going to succeed
damn it, he should’ve just forced you to stay in the reverie in reality, or the golden hour, or something
he’d take your annoyance over watching your symbolic “death” any day
he reaches for you – in a fit of desperation, he tries to grab onto you, your scarf, anything
you blink, watching as death’s claws withdraw, and as it swings its blade-laden scythe wing towards you. you seem shocked, but you close your eyes as you welcome the darkness.
the darkness known as your leviathan.
your white scarf sits perfectly around your neck, and your nose is still comfortably buried in the fabric
but there’s no mistaking it; it’s yours
the serpent emerging from the ends of your scarf, who wrapped around the monster known as something unto death, whose translucent body wound around it until it is no longer visible, who made it disappear…
it obeys you, holy shit, that creature obeys you
but you’ve always seemed so harmless, so sweet, so, so… so innocent
how could someone like you harbor something so terrifying?
yet here you are, swallowing the memetic entity with a gulp, like you’re simply swallowing down your food
you’re eating – no, you’ve eaten death
your leviathan settles into your scarf again, its form dissipating as if it had never existed at all
so simply, so effortlessly, disposing of it as if it’s naught but a mere worm
aventurine stares, at where death once loomed, and then at you, who looks completely fine. he stammers your name, and for the first time, he feels a primal fear in him. it’s different to the fear of uncertainty, of whether or not he’ll still be alive tomorrow, or of being left behind again. it’s a fear more powerful, a fear stemming from coming face to face with someone perhaps even more dangerous than everyone he’s encountered on penacony. the fear of prey before the apex predator on the food chain.
his gentle giant of a secretary all of a sudden doesn’t seem so gentle anymore
he can’t really tell what exactly it is hiding in your scarf, but he has an inkling
before he can make a guess, you interrupt his line of thinking
“bleh…” you cringe in disgust, your face scrunching up as you stumble to find refuge on a nearby couch
never mind, he'll take that back
honestly, you don’t look like someone to be afraid of right now
you look like you’re about to collapse, with how pale you’re getting and how you’re almost retching up your lunch behind your scarf
which you are. the only thing stopping you is the physical aspect of being unable to
he pushes his fear aside, and finds it surprising easy to do so
in fact, it’s so easy that he could almost find your reaction hilarious
if you didn't look like you're three seconds away from keeling over
“you, you didn’t just–” he approaches you slowly, kneeling down by your side, “aeons, you look sick.”
you want to give him a reply, but the sheer flavor of the meme you just swallowed makes you so queasy that you think you might puke the moment you try to speak
his hands slowly reach up to hold your face, “will you be okay?” he asks, quiet and careful
you nod, relaxing into his touch, and he can feel you turn to lean against his palm even through the fabric that obfuscates your face
how are you still so adorable when you’ve just consumed the entirety of death?
you’ve never revealed much about yourself, and you’ve been the biggest mystery aventurine has been itching to solve. but at this stage, he isn’t too sure if he wants to find out anymore. you, your path, your abilities… you’ve been hiding them all, under that guise of innocence.
then again, he’s the one who made assumptions and decided to keep you away from conflict
he still feels cheated, just with no one but himself to blame
he wants to believe that you’ve been genuine with him! that your personality, at least, isn’t fake
you’re doing a really good job at reassuring him
well, maybe because you’re experiencing indigestion on a couch in the dreamscape after eating something that looks decidedly inedible
it doesn’t feel like you’re lying to him at all, with the way you’re behaving
when the nausea goes away just enough for you to speak, the first thing you say is a string of curses
and “i really hope i don’t get food poisoning”
it gets silent very quickly, and you two stare at each other
“i… i don’t think food poisoning is what you should be worried about right now,” he manages to say, suppressing the urge to just chuckle, because this is his confirmation that you’re still his favorite secretary
it takes you a while before you let out a very, very quiet mumble of “please don’t fire me.”
aventurine has never expected that to come out of your mouth. “what? why would i fire you over something like this?” he raises a brow, and he’s just as relieved as you are when your shoulders sagged. “i’m just glad you’re okay…”
he tries to lift you up, and you give him an a+ for effort, even if he ends up failing. you lean onto him, letting him carry half of your weight while you try to stand.
“c’mon, let’s get you out of here. you need to rest,” aventurine says, in the most happy, truly grateful way you’ve ever heard him speak. “but, after that? you have a lot of explaining to do.”
#ares's voracity pathstrider tales#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#aventurine#aventurine x reader
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One trend I've noticed a lot lately in the speculation of Tyrion meeting Daenerys is how he'll influence her. The argument often is that Tyrion will encourage her more "fire and blood" destructive tendencies when they get to Westeros. However, this view is often one-sided as it's always about how Tyrion will influence Daenerys but never about how Daenerys will influence Tyrion.
"Daenerys, I am thrice your age," Ser Jorah said. "I have seen how false men are. Very few are worthy of trust, and Daario Naharis is not one of them. Even his beard wears false colors."
That angered her. "Whilst you have an honest beard, is that what you are telling me? You are the only man I should ever trust?"
He stiffened. "I did not say that."
"You say it every day. Pyat Pree's a liar, Xaro's a schemer, Belwas a braggart, Arstan an assassin . . . do you think I'm still some virgin girl, that I cannot hear the words behind the words?"
"Your Grace—"
She bulled over him. "You have been a better friend to me than any I have known, a better brother than Viserys ever was. You are the first of my Queensguard, the commander of my army, my most valued counselor, my good right hand. I honor and respect and cherish you—but I do not desire you, Jorah Mormont, and I am weary of your trying to push every other man in the world away from me, so I must needs rely on you and you alone. It will not serve, and it will not make me love you any better."
-ASOS, Daenerys IV
Daenerys is not the sheltered child Aegon was who Tyrion could easily manipulate as shown when she called out Jorah for trying to isolate her from other men. Even Tyrion admitted to Aegon, having never met Daenerys that "she is strong" and "fierce." Daenerys was more worldly at 14 than Aegon is at 16. Even as a small, frightened girl at age 13 in the beginning of the series, she had more street smarts than her adult brother Viserys and has shown to be a prodigy in the series. Tyrion would not be able to manipulate her easily, especially since would initially be wary of him for being a Lannister.
Tyrion at the end of the day would be serving as her subordinate, him being largely dependent on her. Tyrion largely is the way he is because of the toxic family he grew up in. The Lannister vision has no idea of a Good Society, it's just pure self-aggrandizement by any means necessary. As the adage goes, rot always starts at the head. The monarchs Tyrion served as Hand, Joffrey and Cersei, were both cruel, incompetent tyrants with senses of entitlement that outweighed their actual abilities. They also had no concept of the duties of a monarch to their subjects, and instead just abused their power over others, including sexually. The one who actually ran the show for the Lannister regime, Tywin, was a cold, abusive Machiavellian who brutalized the smallfolk and his children, seeing them as pawns in his schemes. Tyrion could be cunning and brutal, because it was both encouraged and necessary for the winner-take-all, dog-eat-dog world of the Lannister court. It was an environment designed to bring out the darker side of his nature.
However, since the beginning we saw hints of the lighter side of his nature such as when he gave emotional support to Jon and designed a special saddle for Bran. He even helped Catelyn when they were attacked by the mountain clans even though she kidnapped him. In A Clash of Kings, we see hints of Tyrion wanting to be something other than the cold Machiavellian like his father when he stands up for Sansa when Joffrey beats her, and he has Morec killed and Slynt sent to the Wall for killing Barra, wanting to "do justice." In A Dance with Dragons, he risks his life to protect Aegon and even in his lowest he looks out for Penny even though she is a complete stranger to him.
Daenerys is a foil to Cersei, whose ruling philosophy is expressed in the statement "Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can't protect themselves?" Daenerys tries to live up to the image of an ideal monarch who protects the weak. She liberates the oppressed from slavery and tries to protect them, even performing acts like tending to those afflicted with the bloody flux herself, marrying someone she doesn't want and putting her plan of going to Westeros on hold to achieve peace. Working as Hand to Queen Daenerys, Tyrion may find himself in a change of pace in a different environment where for once his more positive tendencies are encouraged with his fondness for "cripples, bastards and broken things."
In short, in cutting himself off from his toxic family, Tyrion may actually find a new beginning in service to Daenerys. He's the Machiavellian polymath and court politician she needs, and she's the competent, idealistic monarch he needs.
#asoiaf#a song of ice and fire#queen daenerys#daenerys targaryen#daenerys stormborn#tyrion lannister#house lannister#house targaryen#meereen#queen cersei#cersei
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Whispers of the Forgotten | pt. 2
pairing: azriel x reader | type: angst | words: 2,6k words | masterlist
"And what now?" The general's voice is still tinged with the shock from the earlier happenings, his breathing ragged.
"The box won't open without…I don't know. Without what?" Cassian looks at Nesta and only wants to wrap her into his arms, keeping her safe. Nesta holds Ataraxia tightly in her hands, face displaying nothing but strength and determination, but when her eyes slide to the box, completely untouched and closed, on the table in front of her, in the middle of Rhysand's office, disappointment passes over her features. It makes the former determination disappear and her shoulders slouch. Nesta looks exhausted, even a little sad and Cassian just wants to hold her, tell her she did her best, that she did everything she could and it is enough.
"We need magic. A greater force," Nesta breathes, gaze not wavering, trained on the little onyx box. Vassa, the clever fire bird, managed to steal the box Koschei always kept with him. They need to destroy it in order to destroy him, but right now it seems impossible — they can't do it. At least not with the tools at hand.
Even Amren is clueless. What should they do? How should they go forward?
Silence, palpable and heavy, falls upon the room and for a moment everyone seems clueless until—
Amren taps her fingers against her chin and then opens her mouth. "There is one person that I know that could be able to open this box."
The temperature in the office cools at least five degrees, a chill coursing through it. Amren moves towards the desk, fingers tracing a line over the box, eyes squinted. "She has power beyond our knowledge." Amren inhales a deep breath. "And you, boys, put her in the Prison many years ago. Many centuries ago." She looks over her shoulder, dark hair shifting with the movement. "Azriel, Cassian."
A cold shiver cascades down Azriel's spine. A Prison inmate would be their solution? It can't be—
"We can't free a prison inmate," Cassian says, voice strong.
"Of course not, we can also let Koschei destroy us." Amren's statement is gleeful, almost mocking of the general. Cassian only narrows his eyes at her, fighting the urge to flip her off.
"I mean, how can we be sure she is loyal to us and not to…Koschei. Or that she doesn't try to murder us the first chance she gets?" Cassian looks a bit scared and Amren frowns at him.
"Why should she be loyal to Koschei?" she asks in a bored voice.
"If she is a creature that has to be kept in the Prison the connection for her to be loyal to the Death Lord or any kind of evil spirit is not too far fetched," Cassian says and lifts his arms in despair.
Nesta takes a step back, moving closer to her mate, her heart still racing with the former actions. She was the one who tried to open the box, but failed. The power that held it close is just too strong. Alone the trial left its markings on her skin, on her body. She is shivering, goosebumps spreading all over her body. The ancient force having fought against her, fiercely.
"Remember where I come from, boy," Amren snaps and throws Cassian a deadly look. "I've been in there once as well. And I know her. I know about her. And I know that she will help us and isn't loyal to Koschei."
Rhysand, formerly having been calm, silently observing the situation, now steps in, Nyx cradled to his chest. "Can we truly trust her, Amren?" His voice is deep and strong, bouncing of the walls of his office.
They can't risk anything and freeing someone from the Prison can be deadly and cause more problems than they already have.
"We can." Her statement is steadfast, like nothing can shake her belief that the female in question can truly be their life saver. "She might be a little out of practice after being locked away for centuries, but I know she has the kind of power and magic to open this box. After all she was part of…them."
"Of who?" It is Gwyn who asks this question, her voice hushed, almost like whispering about a secret.
Amren turns her head to the priestess, smirking. "Of the Wild Hunt. Not their leader, but the second-in-command."
Silent gasps rumble through the room, and surprise flickers over Gwyn's young face. She has heard about the Wild Hunt, read about it, but she had no idea that someone who was apart of it was locked away in the prison.
Shock takes root in Azriel's chest, rattling his very bones. He has to grab the backrest of the chair in front of him to keep from tumbling. There is only one female this description fits. A female he locked into the prison himself. A female who promised vendetta. A female he loved once. You.
His throat works on a swallow, shadows nervously swirling around him. Azriel isn't the type to be scared of most things, but you? You are a different kind. A different breed. Something otherworldly. Something - a being - that indeed scares him.
"We can use the Harp to enter the cell," Nesta suggests and earns herself a round of agreement and planning immediately starts. But Azriel is unfocused. He thoughts return to you. Always. His body feels weak and he is shaking on the inside. For centuries he has been thinking about you, and now…
"Azriel, you will get her." The shadowsinger wants to say no, but he can't. He has to do it. If someone frees you, it has to be him. So, he only bows his head in silent agreement and already moves towards the door.
"I'll return with her," he says as a matter of good bye, his mind too distressed, his body still in shock, to answer anything else or to do anything else.
───── ⋆⋅ ☽☾ ⋅⋆ ─────
The prison still looks the same. The same dark stone walls, the same mossy smell. The only thing that has changed is Azriel himself. He no longer is this young boy that would do anything the High Lord tells him, without the blink of an eye. He has grown now, and he knows that what he did to you back then, was wrong. The situation — you — should have been handled differently. But he can't take back his actions. But maybe, maybe there is a chance for him to explain it all to you.
His steps hollow through the dimly lit halls, prison cells on either side of it.
He still remembers your cell. It is a memory imprinted on his mind, but one that has been locked away for hundreds of years.
A cold shiver curls around his spine, just like his shadows curl around his body.
He had clamped down on the pain for so long, for centuries, but now that he is here again it all comes back and nearly breaks him. Now, he can't believe what he did. He can't believe he hurt you like this.
Why did he not try to fight? Why did he not choose another option.
Because there wasn't one. It was the only option to keep you safe. To protect you. And your safety was always his priority. Even if it meant locking you in here and ripping his own heart into shreds.
───── ⋆⋅ ☽☾ ⋅⋆ ─────
"Hush little baby, don't say a word,
Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird.
And if that mockingbird won't sing,
Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring.
And if that diamond ring turns to brass—"
Your voice catches in your throat, when your nostrils flare, taking in the new, uncommon scent. Someone is here. Someone that hasn’t been here in a long time. The scent is not fully unfamiliar, but you also don’t remember its owner. Until—
A nest of shadows is the first thing you see when the door to your cell opens. The black mist clears and reveals a male of ethereal beauty. A male you've come to loathe even more with every passing century.
"Shadowsinger." A vicious grin spreads over your face, showing your elongated canines. "We meet again."
Alongside the general of the Illyrian armies, the spymaster caught you and put you in this Cauldron-damned prison. It had been centuries ago. But you haven't forgotten. You never will. But why he returned is a mystery….
Before he can so much as blink, you lunge at him, chains clattering on the cold stone floor, covered in dirt and mould. You want to claw at his throat, at best rip it out. The fire of fury inside of you has burned for centuries, wasn't diminished once. And his presence alone added enough fuel to make your weak and broken body move. The sound of the chains reverberates through the dank, musty air, your long, elongated canines gleaming with a feral snarl.
"I'm going to kill you." But you can't. Technically, you can't kill him while in here. Magic binds your power and you are restrained, also by magical chains, that keep you from moving too far or too close to him. But that doesn't stop you from trying.
Hatred, raw and powerful, fuels you and makes you blind with the only thing on your mind being to end his life. He condemned you to this wretched, soul-crushing place. He never cared that you had no choice other than being part of the Wild Hunt. You didn't choose your fate. So, he had no right to do so either.
"You think these chains can hold me, Azriel?" Your voice is a venomous hiss, each syllable dripping with disdain as you strain against the biting restraints, the cold metal spikes digging into your flesh. "I'll tear you limb from limb! I'll rip your throat out and watch you bleed out until the very last drop."
Azriel, his demeanour not giving away the whirlwind of emotions within him, stands in a stance, Truth-Teller clasped in his scarred hands. He seems composed and not afraid and that angers you even more. And so does his voice, cold, low, velvety.
"I'm not here to fight you," he says, his voice steady despite the storm brewing inside the Prison cell and within both of you. "I am sorry for—"
"Stuff your apologies up your pretty ass!" With a guttural roar, you hurl yourself at him again, driven by an insatiable hunger to destroy him. Memories of the centuries that have passed, of degradation, and the pain you suffered reach the front of your mind and drive your anger forward.
But the chains hold you back and Azriel swiftly side-steps you. It isn't even necessary. If he doesn't get any closer, there is no chance for you to reach him.
You bare your teeth again, the thin, white nightgown clutching to your body like a second skin. You shiver, but not from the cold, rather from the rage blazing through your veins. "What do you want from me? Why did you come back? Why did you come back now?" you demand, but he leaves you without an answer.
"I don't want to hurt you," Azriel repeats instead, a note of regret tinting his voice.
"Hurt me?" You sneer. "You've already destroyed me! You broke me and you left me broken. Bloody and cold. I lay in my own puke for days, bleeding, wounded."
A pang of hurt hits Azriel right in the heart. He only followed what Rhysand's father had told him to do. He had no other choice. Everything else would have meant your death. He couldn't have risked it.
"I come here because I—because we need your help."
His eyes drop to your hands, scars also marring them. Your pointed nails are still sharp, but brittle, almost like you have been clawing at the stone walls.
Memories flash in his mind of how you sunk them into his skin. How you scratched them over his skin. And how…simultaneously your lips met his, mouths dancing, tongues toying—
"You betrayed me," you seethe, "and now you want my help?"
Azriel's expression looks pained, torn. His eyes drop anew, to the chains binding your feet to the wall. Your hands, though, are free and you can't wait to sink your sharp nails into his neck. Your fangs as well.
"Only over my dead body!" you scream, fury clouding your vision like black haze.
Only for you to realise it is not fury that clouds your vision. He is using his shadows to do so. You can't see anymore and it makes you panic. And this panic makes you lose control. You forgot about your former target, the darkness so looming and scary it makes you scream.
Chains clatter to the ground, but you are too caught in a stupor to move. To run. To attack.
With a swift and calculated manoeuvre, Azriel is behind you and secures handcuffs around your wrists, binding you. Binding you…binding you…You are restrained again.
"I'm sorry, but I have to do this." His voice is softer, but it hurts you. You don't want to hear it. Don't want to see this side of him. Because it isn't his true self. His true self hurt you. Broke you. Destroyed you.
You hate him so much, it almost hurts. You can't allow the pain. You will never allow it. You only allow anger.
Blind rage surges within you, a thunderstorm of emotions brewing. And then he does the most unforgivable thing. He knows about your past. Knows about your fear of the dark. And yet, darkness swallows you wholly — a blindfold tightens over your eyes. Helplessness makes the content of your stomach sour and burning tears dwell in your eyes. Rage simmers beneath your skin, but it is the pain of betrayal that nearly gains the upper hand. The sort of pain you have been pushing away for centuries.
You scream anew. His name. Curses. Noises.
"Forgive me," Azriel whispers from behind you. "Forgive me, please."
But you wouldn't even imagine doing so. Never. Only over your dead body.
"You'll regret this." Your voice is not strong. It is hoarse and broken. "I will never forgive you."
Azriel moves swiftly. In his hand, he holds Nesta's harp, the key that allowed him to enter your cell.
"Forgive me," he says again and his hand lands on your hip.
You resist, squirming against his grasp, frustration and anger lacing your voice. "Let me go!" you demand, a mix of desperation and in your voice. But he is stronger.
Ignoring your protests, Azriel gathers you in his arms, scooping you up with ease that is beyond you, cradling your frame against his chest. He adjusts his hold, ensuring you're secure and you feel that something cold, and metal - you can't quite tell- is placed on your belly. The Harp, but this knowledge is unbeknownst to you.
"Stop fighting," he growls. "I'm taking you away from this place."
"Only to lock me up somewhere else." Your tears wet the blindfold.
You struggle again, but it is useless against his strength. Your voice turns into a seething growl when you feel cold air brush you. Azriel rises. You rise. He is flying. And he is taking your with him.
With a powerful surge of his wings, he gets airborne, leaving the prison behind. When air and wind swirls around you, you continue to squirm and strain against his hold.
"I won't let you imprison me again!" you seethe, fear and anger loud in your voice.
He stays calm.
Gradually, your resistance lessens, your body relaxing slightly against Azriel's chest, tension and pain still coiling inside of you. But you are tired. Exhausted. You only want to sleep. And that for ages.
As you fly farther from the prison, towards Velaris, Azriel's embrace remains steadfast, his eyes brushing over your body from time to time. His actions are the only reason for you to hate him so much. And it hurts him as well.
"Forgive me," Azriel breathes into the chilly night air, but you don't hear him anymore.
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bodyguard.
synopsis : in which his task is to be your bodyguard, his mob-boss’s daughter. where he not only guards you but also guards your body.
pairing : seonghwa x reader
themes : romcom, angst & smut.
word count : 37.8K.
to say that your father trusted you was a correct statement to some extent, but what he didn’t trust was the environment you were brought up in.
raising two kids despite being a mafia syndicate and hiding his very mafia-like tendencies wasn’t always easy, considering that both his kids would run around during meetings that not a single soul was to hear.
being raised in a secluded home- mansion per-say that was directly out of a architectural digest magazine, the one your father built from his own hands. residing in it with a happy family with his lovely wife, you, and your younger brother.
he had given you and your brother the bestest facilities growing up, from sending you two to prestigious schools despite having no idea what they actually were to giving you two toys that were only ever made twice in the world.
but now that you, his eldest has grown up. he can’t help but be vary of the environment you were in, it’s not that he didn’t trust you. he didn’t trust a single soul outside his house.
he broke his pact and told you what he did for living the day you turned eighteen, he expected a completely different reaction to the one you gave him. which went along the lines of, “oh, okay.”
so now that you were of age and so were the heirs to other’s mafia groups, he was hesitant to send you anywhere without proper security. seeing how excessively violent his field of work can get, having tiny, minuscule disagreements that could have the worst possible results.
and how you were to take over your father’s position one day, he couldn’t ever risk you or his family getting hurt. it’ll be the one thing that’ll kill him if one day someone gets their hands on his much-protected family.
So, when he makes a decision, looking at the fine, young, tall man dressed in the finest of suits payed by your father. black hair slicked back, a tie with a pin of your dad’s group the crown.
a smile on his wrinkly face he lifts his forefinger up and motions for the man to come closer, who bows his head and then walks stiffly towards you father who sat on his office chair.
“i hope you’ll be the perfect man for this job,” his raspy voice says, eyes falling over the man, who he thinks is quite handsome, and will cause him some trouble in the future.
“yes, sir.” he hears and smiles, “i will not give you a moment of disgrace, if i do, please fire me.”
a laugh bubbles out your dad’s mouth as he shakes his head, leaning forward on the table with a stance that terrified the man standing in front with his arms crossed behind his back.
“and if you do mr park.” your father enunciates, “i won’t. spare you.”
with a quick swallow the younger man nods and your father leans back with a smile, hands resting on each armrest he lifts a hand to tell him that.
“my daughter will be off soon, she’ll come here straight.” he mumbles and the man nods, “i will give you some rules to follow but i believe this is basic knowledge since you have been my guard, am i right park?”
“yes, sir.”
you father reaches for his glasses, placing them over his nose bridge yet still squinting his eyes as he reads the printed sheet of paper. written on it were rules he and his wife made just last night, sitting on their bed conspiring safety measurements.
“number one,” he starts, “you are to never leave my daughter alone, be it in public settings or more closed off settings.”
“yes, sir.”
you father ticks an eyebrow up and continues with a nod and a quick scan of the man, “two. you are to accompany my only daughter and ensure her utmost safety. her life comes first, understood park?”
“yes, sir.”
your father raises his eyes to meet the boy’s, “i assume you have more than just ‘yes, sir’s’ in your vocabulary?”
“i do, sir.”
he smirks, likes how the man keeps it short and simple. “moving on,” he exhales, “as she will be taking over my position in the coming future, you shall always be her right-hand man in any case scenario.”
“four,” he sits up straight, “do not leave my daughter alone in case of emergencies, she is your responsibility at all times.”
“i won’t disappoint you, sir.”
with a nod he continues, clearing his throat as he reads the next one. “fifth, you are to not make any relation with my daughter.”
your father looks ahead, eyes forming into slits. “do not touch my daughter or hurt her, if i get a hunch, i’ll cut your hands off.”
a shaky nod leaves the man. “do not make any sorts of relationship with her, be it courtship or any sort of sexual relationship.”
“am i making myself clear?”
“y-yes, sir.” he responds, “i’m not to make any mistakes that can sadden you, i will pay good attention on that.”
“good,” he smiles, “you can however be friends…to a limit.”
“do n-“
“dad!”
your father’s grim turns into a big smile, face brightening when he hears your call for him. bursting through his office doors with arms wide open and running to him, “oh sweetheart! how was school?”
he asks as you roll your eyes and hug him, “dad you keep forgetting it’s not school anymore, it’s a university!”
when he pulls back, he pats your forearm, “forgive this old man, i’m a little forgetful at times.”
you raise an eyebrow, “forgetful? not when you remember to take a daily shot of whi-“
“okay, okay!” you smile, your dad huffing before he looks ahead and you follow his line of vision.
there stood a man who suddenly stood straighter when your eyes landed on him, you don’t realize your father holding your hand because you’re so busy staring at the man in front of you.
clad in those black tuxes, a gun holster you know is attached to his broader chest. you can’t help but look at the way the tux cinches his waist, your tongue runs across your right cheek as you take the man’s appearance in.
“y/n,”
“yes, dad.” you reply, eyes on the man who never spared you a glance.
“meet your new bodyguard,” you raise an eyebrow. “park seonghwa.”
“i’m park seonghwa, your new bodyguard from now on.” you watch the man bow, “i’m to be by your side whenever you go out at all times, it’s nice to meet you ma’am.”
you bite back a smile at the use of ma’am that’s never been used to address you, and instead you lean back on your bed a little. watching the man’s his upper body for a few seconds and which then stood straight, feet apart and hands crossed behind his back.
“hi, seonghwa.” you say, and he nods, “you have to be with me everywhere?”
“yes, ma’am.”
“call me y/n.”
“yes ma’am.”
with a shake of your head you continue, “do you have to be there at my university?”
“yes, ma’am.”
“when i go to malls, clubs or those events?”
“yes, yes and yes.”
you smile at his response and then cross your legs over the other, being amused at the way he stares at your face and not look down when you crossed your legs. gentleman you thought.
“even…” you lean forward a little, “to the bathroom?”
he pauses for a little and then clears his throat, “public places, ma’am.”
“what about public bathrooms?” you blink twice and his lips form into a line.
“i’m afraid that’s a place i’m not allowed in,” he mumbles, so formal that it hurt you to admit you liked it. “to satisfy your privacy that is.”
with a smile you reach out to grab the thin file your father had given to you, “i assume this is your file, right?”
“yes, ma’am.”
you flip through the papers to see a passport size photo of seonghwa, staring at it a tad bit longer because you finally get to see his eyes that aren’t hidden by the dark sunglasses he wore. they’re sharp, feline-like, scary but so warm that it tingled your fancy.
“you’re a really high-profile man seonghwa, what are you going to do trailing behind me?” you ask as your eyes graze the achievements of the man and no wonder, he’s in your dad’s personal security squad, his credentials are simply spectacular.
from the way he can use almost any artillery given, dismantle and rearrange them to being an assassin for a long running italian mafia before, that one definitely piqued your interest.
“i serve your family ma’am, your father specifically.” he says, looking at you going through his profile. “whatever he says are my orders, ma’am.”
“stop calling me that,”
“yes, ma’am.”
you sigh and then look at him, then pat the spot on the bed you sat on. “if you’re going to be my bodyguard, we should get to know each other!”
“i’m sorry ma’am, i’m not here to make any sort of relationship with you.” he says, sternly. “i’m prohibited to do so.”
“do you always use those fancy, formal words?”
“yes, ma’am.”
“how would you like for me to address you?” you ask, tilting your head to the side a little. “i can’t call you bodyguard everywhere, people can get suspicious.”
“park seonghwa.” he nods after saying that.
you lean an elbow on your leg, tapping your chin as if thinking what to call him when you already know. “what about hwa?”
“seonghwa.”
“what about seong?”
“park seonghwa, ma’am.” he emphasizes, and you grin, your eye smile on display.
“okay, hwa!”
you know he inhales at his defeat, but it only makes you smile more, “so since i know a bit about you, you should know something about me! go on, ask me questions.”
“i have no questions ma’am,” he responds, and you frown.
“not even one?”
he shakes his head, “i already know the most i’ve to know about you, your allergies for emergencies and your daily schedule.”
you nod, “you know about my family?”
he smiles just a bit, “i work for them, of course i do.” he says, briefly glancing at his watch. “i believe your younger brother will be off school now, would you like to go pick him up?”
“ew no,” you scrunch your nose, “why would i go pick up that idiot.”
“as you wish,” he nods and then takes a step back, “if you need anything, please call for me. i’ll be down the hallwa-“
“i don’t have your number,” you grin, reaching for your phone and handing it out to him. “go on, don’t be shy now.”
“i’m not allowed to use your phone ma’am,” you throw your head back and groan, standing on your feet and then walking towards him, just enough till you’re standing right in front.
your finger lifts up to poke his hard chest that you know he works out for, “stop calling me ma’am, we are almost the same age.” you see the slight shift in his posture, “i have a name and its y/n. second, you are my bodyguard. you can use my phone, third you’re about to step on my cat’s tail.”
the third one catches him so off-guard that he takes a quick jump to the side, both your eyes falling to the floor where a cute siamese floofball sat, adorably innocent wide eyes and head tilted with its tail curled in a coil.
“you said you know everyone in my family,” you kneel down, reaching your hand out for your cat who complies and places it’s face on the palm of your hand. “but you forgot my cat, meet dumbles.”
you see the way seonghwa’s head does a quick snap tilt, “…dumbles?” he asks, momentarily leaving the sternness out of him and kneeling down beside you to stare at your round cat.
“you haven’t watched harry potter?” you ask, petting your cat’s head as he purrs and closes his eyes.
“i-i have ma’am,” he quickly adds, his nerd self-having a field day in his mind. “i just don’t know how that relates?”
“dumbles, short for dumbledore.” you hear him sigh at the name and it makes you snort, reaching to hold your cat like a baby you nudge him to seonghwa. “he’s more like my bodyguard really.”
and it’s the first time you’ve seen a full smile grace his plump lips when he reaches to pet dumbles, “i think i’m going to have to compete for this job?”
with a purr of your cat and a laugh that bubbles out of you, it’s then when you suddenly lean closer to his face. eyes squinty and he looks up, despite his glasses covering his eyes you can clearly make out that he’s blinking repeatedly.
“you’re cute.”
“ma’am, we’ll be late for your first class.”
you bring the blanket to your face, “ma’am, it’s already 11:30, your class starts in an hour.”
“seonghwa, are you my mother or my bodyguard?” you groan, peeking a little from your blanket with droopy and squinty eyes.
“your bodyguard ma’am,” you hear him say, then hearing his footsteps go the side of your room and push the curtains away to reveal the sun. “my duty is for you to be at your university right now.”
he hears a whine come from behind him and he looks over his shoulder to see you twisted in some random position as you stretched, taking the entire blanket with you. he hears you yawn his name in a singing voice and all he does is stand at the foot of your bed; hands folded behind him.
you lift your head up on your elbow, eyeing seonghwa’s ever so classic and sophisticated tux with a smile. “gooood morning, seong!”
“good morning, ma’am, please get ready.” he taps his wristwatch, “breakfast is ready downstairs.”
“how are you doing seong?” you ask, completely avoiding whatever he said with a smile.
“very well ma’am,” he says, tapping his watch once again. “it’s time for you to be downstairs ma’am.”
your lips form into a small pout and you shift on the bed, until you’re sitting crisscross in front of him. “you know my mom would love you,” he says nothing, “you’d be someone who’d make me go everywhere on time.”
“that is my job ma’am.”
“good,” you nod, then extending your hand out to him. “could you please help me get out of bed?”
he says nothing but reaches his larger hand to grab yours, his slightly calloused hands holding your softer ones before he juts you up with one hand. so quick and strong that you almost land on seonghwa instead, “thank you, hwa.”
“no worries, ma’am.” he straightens himself up, taking a few steps back and not looking anywhere but your face. “i’ll be downstairs by the bentley.”
you would’ve never thought that you would ever find a man so classy, so hot and yet so infuriating at times. specifically, when he calls you ma’am or quietly slides you a sheet of your schedule of your classes to remind you of the time again at the breakfast table, making your sibling laugh.
so, when you walked out decked in your branded clothes, that one, you barely wore. two, chanel’s tweed jacket keeps poking you in your side and three to match you little- tall bodyguard.
it’s the way you look like his counterpart if not for the gold chanel pin you have on top of your chest, a wide smile on your face that can only be described as sheepish and a jump to your steps.
the drive to your uni is filled with nothing but silence, despite the looks you throw at him from the rear that you know he manages to see once in a while. or the way he shakes his head when he sees you poke your tongue out at him the middle of a red light.
“are you going inside too?” you ask once you get out of the car, flattening your skirt and then clutching your bag tighter.
“yes ma’am.” he merely nods after instead motioning for you to walk first so he walks behind.
and you do as told, walking in front full well knowing a tall, intimidatingly attractive man is walking behind you. seeing the stares, you’re getting it’s only making you prove a point that he is in fact, the finest man you’ve laid your eyes on.
your heels and his shoes match in pace, click clacking against the university marble floor. he walks in silence, occasionally using an arm to swat anyone in your way which makes him brush your arm quite often and leads him to apologize.
when you’re about to enter the classroom, he abruptly comes to a stop in front of you.
“what’s going on, seong?”
“i’ve to check the class for your safety, ma’am.” he says, and your laugh gets drowned by the chatter of students when he opens the door to peek inside. he then steps aside, opening the door for you fully and gesturing for you to walk in. “after you.”
“thank you,” you quickly mumble, suddenly being aware of the stares you’re getting as you hurry to walk to your seat.
once you’re settled down, the lingering figure of seonghwa stood by you. you glance at him and then the class who obviously looked at him, some in awe, some in confusion and the rest with their jaws dropped.
“you don’t have to come in my class,” you whisper, “there’s nothing to worry here.”
he bends at his waist, “i can’t do that ma’am, there’s quite a lot of threat in this class.” he says, eyeing the room. “your dad’s seventh enemy’s nephew sits thirteen seats behind you, anything could happen.”
with a discreet glance over your shoulder and the obvious sign of danger that emitted 13 seats away from you. eyebrow slit and eyes ready to throw daggers you slowly turn to seonghwa, “okay…” you shift to the right, “sit by me then.”
“i can’t do that ma’am.”
you raise an eyebrow, ears twitching at the door to the classroom opening and knowing your teacher walked in. and if he saw a man dressed in a black suit, an earpiece, tall standing by you. you’d surely get in trouble.
you grab onto his sleeve, “shut up, and sit down.”
“m-“
“it’s an order, mr park.”
you knew that hit the mark when you visibly see him stiffen. nodding his head and then unbuttoning his tux to have a seat beside you, your eyes on the teacher and him leaning back to take a seat.
it’s only then when one of your seatmates, kyle decides to open his mouth and ask you a question that has seonghwa raising his eyebrows in disappointment.
“yo, y/n,” you look to your right, “can i borrow a pen?”
“oh!” you mumble, “ye-“
“keep your hands to yourself mister,” you hear seonghwa’s voice come from behind you sternly say, the sudden warmth radiating from him lingering on your back. you can’t see him, but you know the voice has kyle’s eyes widening. “bring your own pen kid, this is university not elementary.”
“s-sorry sir,” you hear his stutter, and it makes you look at seonghwa with a frown, who in return sighs and takes a pen out of his tux pocket.
“bring your own next time,” you hear him mumble before he sits back on the chair, back leaned and legs crossed neatly.
“would you like to get something to eat?” you hear him ask from the driver’s seat, eyes meeting yours through the rear mirror.
“did you really have to give him your pen?” you ask instead, leaning closer to place your chin on the driver’s seat.
“i can’t let anyone else have you-“ you raise an eyebrow when he stops the car at the right moment. “-r property.”
“so, you’d just give anyone your pen?” you say, hearing him tap his fingers along the steering wheel.
he nods curtly. “i believe your class tomorrow is at eight in the morning-“
you groan, “why do you always talk about school?” sporting a pout you look in the rear view, knowing that under his dark sunglasses he is staring at you.
“i’ll set the alarm,“ he replies and your shoulders slump lower. “ma’am.”
with a sigh, you lean back on the seat. pouting in frustration as the sound of your phone momentarily distracts you, you flip it to face you and scroll through the messages.
kai, 4:56pm
y/n
party tonight?
ryan’s place
y/n, 4:57pm
????
why his place
ew
what time
kai, 4:59pm
uhhh
starts at 11
pick you up @ 12?
you snap your head up, “hey hwa, what time was my class tomorrow?”
“eight in the morning, ma’am.”
you curse under your breath, “shit, my hangover would kill me..” you bite down on your lip. looking at seonghwa through your lashes before looking down at the screen.
y/n, 5:01pm
ill drivo there
*drive
i’ll just meet u there
kai, 5:03pm
don’t be late dummy
you chuck your phone to the side when seonghwa calls for you, “y-yeah?”
“i won’t give my pens,” he pulls into your estate. “if that’s not what you’re comfortable with ma’am.”
“no, no,” you look out, mind completely not thinking about the party you’ve got to go too. plus, how will you go? with the tight security your dad has up on each and every wall of this house, you’re done for good. “you do, what you want! yeah!”
because if seonghwa’s supposed to be with you the entire day, how will you secretly- grab your stuff and get ready? how will you even make it past the entrance? surely you can’t use the front doors? gosh.
“ma’am, we are here.”
with that you grab your stuff in a hurry, opening the door you look at him one last time. “thanks for today seonghwa, but i have a really big exam tomorrow-“ you nod repeatedly. “and, uh, i won’t be out of my room till late! y-you can get an early lay off today! bye!”
“yes ma’am..”
you can’t do this.
you can’t go to the party with a hundred guards and doberman’s surrounding your place.
and you absolutely cannot go with seonghwa being just outside your door, “ma’am, shall i ask for your dinner to be prepared?”
you sit down on your bed, looking at the floor length mirror in front. there’s no way, absolutely no way you can escape this house in a dress that reaches till your thighs and in heels longer than your fingers.
before you can grab your phone, you hear another knock at your door. “ma’am?”
y/n, 11:47pm
kai
im not coming
kai, 11:49pm
why y/n
pls
you can’t leave me alone
with their shitshow
idk anyone
“give me a second seonghwa!”
y/n, 11:55pm
you know the entire school
doofus
kai, 11:55pm
so
pls
u can’t see me
but im on my knees
y/n, 12:00pm
fine
u owe me
kai, 12:01pm
2$
take it or leave it
“ma’am?”
you snap your head up to look at the door, closing your eyes and then opening them with a shake of your head. “i’m, i’ll just be going straight to sleep seonghwa!” you yell, wanting him to leave so you can plan your own. “thank you for today!”
“have a goodnight, ma’am.”
oh, you’re about too, you grin. hearing the clacks of seonghwa’s shoes fade with each step, you rise slowly. grabbing your leather jacket, heels in hand because ain’t no way you’re jumping out your window in them.
you slowly go and turn off your lights, a perfect way to tell that you’re asleep. with a small smile, you push open the window that leads outside just by the garages. as you do so, you see the front gates open. presumably seonghwa leaving the premises, it makes you smile knowing no one will catch you.
with an inhale, cold air flushes inside making you shiver with excitement and the eagerness to get a drink.
you first, look around, knowing the lights at this time are dimmed for privacy sakes. you’ll find it easier to escape, so you carefully extend your hand out— (after sneaking a peek at your sleeping cat) the one that held your heels and slowly, one by one, throw them to the ground.
the soft sound of your heels hitting the grass is quiet, but you know it can pick the ears of the doberman’s your father loves, with a whine you throw your leg over the ledge. and then do the same with the other, sitting on the ledge fully with your balance perfect.
you look in the room once, knowing you’ve got a fake you covered in a blanket there, knowing your doors locked and knowing seonghwa’s gone home.
with that you jump.
your first mistake was to land on your shoes, making you twist your ankle, and a shriek leaves you but that’s quickly suppressed with the hand you put on your mouth.
biting back the pain as your face scrunches up for a scream that your hand hides, you slowly bend down to grab your heels. slowly placing pressure on your feet turn by turn despite a cry you’re desperately wanting to let out.
your eyes switch into night mode, as if they were cameras and begun to step outside the grassy area under your balcony towards the long trees aligning the main road you father had gotten built that connects to the long entrance gates to the french door entrance to your house’s lobby.
your one hand holds your heels, the same hand holding your jacket and the other clothing onto your phone that keeps ringing and you know it’s gonna wake the dogs up and you will start crying. so, the only option was to cut it or pick up.
you picked up.
“y/n? bro where you at?” you roll your eyes at kai’s shaky voice. “i’m alone, this is not fun.”
“stop being like this,” you grit, clutching your phone while tip toeing across the road while hiding behind the long trees. “you’re already dancing i know!” you whisper-yell and hear his snort.
“hurry up you weenie!” he yells, and you whisper a few curse words. “or your new bodyguard might come and get you.”
that makes you stand straight, eyes narrowing as if you’re staring kai down.
“how do you know that?” you ask, voice lowered.
“everyone at our uni knows it,” he laughs, “the tall guy who walked in fully dressed in a tux? can’t be the business majors, can it?”
“oh, shut it,” you whisper, growing closer to the gates while looking back and forth for anyone. “good thing my guards gone home, nothings stopping me from that drink tonight!”
“unless your dogs-“
“i will see you there!” you cut him off, leaning against the tree, hiding as if you were in an action movie you turn your head to the right.
you’re ten steps away from the iron gates, one step to your victory but that one step is cut in half when you see the gatekeeper sitting with eyes wide open. and you know, you know it’s the first time he does so anyways because every other time he’s dozing off.
with a pained smile you slide closer to the tree, successfully in a second having your back against the high cement walls with no suspicion.
your eyes land on the gate in a gate (a small one that mimics a prison, ironic) that’s latched open, you grin. eyes flickering between the gatekeeper and the gate, and just as the man snaps his head down. you’re suddenly shapeshifting into a snake and running out the door with no noise.
once you run out, you run as if your life depended on it. which it did, if your father found out about your early morning endeavors, you’re grounded for good.
and you can’t believe how he still can ground you in your mid-twenties, with a shake of your head you keep running and looking back from time to time before you find yourself in an alley.
your back leaned against the brick as you breathed heavily, chest going up and down as you swallowed the dryness. running a hand through your hair and wiping anything excess on your face before you lean down, throwing your heels before you slip your feet in them.
holding your phone out and texting kai that you’d be there in a few, without your car as you clasped on the ankle strap of your jimmy choo’s you hear a groan coming from your right.
you freeze midway of clasping the strap together, swallowing before comically looking to your right where the dark alley had begun to look even darker. you inhale a nervous breath before quickly slipping on your other heel, not wanting to spend a second here any longer as the groans become louder, and your eyes become wider.
and then you hear a full sentence, you know you’re in trouble. but that doesn’t scare you, what scares you is your father finding about this trouble.
“raise a hand and you won’t see the day of tomorrow.”
“…and it’s my time to leave,” you whisper, holding your phone tighter as you stood up. eyes sneakily looking at the alley as you slowly move towards the road with the aching ankle of yours.
but as you take another step, you hear the loud cry of someone that makes you freeze. but what solidified your death was when your phone rang in the midst of the after silence of the cry.
“who’s there?”
you freeze for what feels like hours and then snap to reality, hurriedly shutting your phone off and cursing kai’s name. you look back at the alley, swallowing with a pained expression before slowly beginning to creep away.
but it’s then when you hear a surge of footsteps filling your ears, your eyes widening, and you grip onto your dress before making a run.
“hey! get back here!”
“catch her!”
so, you run, you run as if your dogs are chasing you, as if your mother has found out what you’re doing late out at night dressed to get sick. or how your father would immediately blow up on you and the thought of getting into trouble, but that was on the last of your mind.
you’re running down the street, injured at the ankle, in your jimmy choo’s while a group of men run after you. you know they are holding weapons because you looked over your shoulder and it made you run even faster.
the cold wind slaps your face, makes your eyes watery and pushes your hair back as the road becomes downhill, your mouth begins to spew out curse words and screams that you hope make the men run away because you know only a god can save you from this.
“h-hey!” you scream, thinking you’d have a wise conversation with the group of guys who only seem to roar even louder and it’s at this point that your ankle begins to burn, and your eyes begin to tear up from the cold wind. “you don’t know who i am!”
“we don’t care!”
you cry out, “my father runs the mafia!”
“if your dad runs the mafia, my dad is tom cruise!” you hear one of them yell and you quicken your speed.
you frown as you run, “what the fuck!?”
“get her!”
the street gets darker and darker but with the semi-working streetlights, you’re able to make out stores and houses around you. neon signs of sketchy restaurants where they sell alcohol for a dollar (you obviously knew, because you tried), or small departmental stores lining the streets.
you’re running so fast, that a crowd of people don’t stop you. you push past them in an attempt to lose the men, but they seem to have found you no matter what, it’s then when you see a man walk out a local 7/11.
your first instinct is to wave, but when the man turns around. eyes on the ground, hand holding a white bag and not a care in the world.
you think you’re about to lose him, until it takes everything in you to scream. “hey!” loud enough for the man to turn around and when he does. you wish you never screamed; you wish you never sneaked out of your room.
because the last thing you expect on a friday night is to be caught by your bodyguard.
“i’m, i’ll just be going straight to sleep seonghwa!”
“have a goodnight, ma’am.”
“god no,” you whisper, half happy that you found him, and half scared shitless. “shit.”
as you’re nearing him, your body automatically begins to slow down. and once you do, you’re standing right in front of him. breathing heavily and swallowing as your throat dried.
“t-this is not how it looks like-“ you look back, seeing the men beginning to slow down as they approach you and him. “-i promise!”
“what’s going on?” he speaks and for the first time you hear him without his uptight vocabulary that doesn’t consist of ma’am’s or sir’s.
“i thought you were asleep?” he raises an eyebrow, and you look at him up and down, clad in a black hoodie with matching sweats. you think you like him better this way.
“i…i thought i was too,” you chuckle, humourlessly and awkwardly.
“hey!”
you two turn around at the loud yell and you take a step back, “i-it’s a long story-“ you swallow, coming to stand closer to him as seonghwa take a step forward. “-i’ll explain the rest later!”
seonghwa gives you a blank stare, raising an eyebrow and you just know he’s shooting you in his mind. “are you hurt?”
you blink, “huh?”
he looks back at the men, “are you hurt, ma’am?” and then looks at your blinking eyes.
you shake your head slowly, “no,” he then hands you the white bag he held prior, and you look at him with a frown. “…..are you doing what i’m thinking you’re about to do?”
you take the bag from, and he nods. “i’m doing exactly what you’re thinking.”
you grip the bag tighter, pulling your lips into a determined grin and raising your hands into fists to urge him on. “….we’re running right?”
he looks over his shoulder before snorting, “i’m going to go do my job.” he then points at you. “stay here.”
“you’re not on-“
“oi you two!” you snap your eyes at the men in front, hand on their waists and bored expressions on their faces. “if you’re done talking, get her here, we’ve got some business to finish!”
you blink, feeling your heartbeat take a sudden increase as you hold the bag tighter. “don’t worry about it ma’am, i can handle this.” with that he begins to walk towards them, and you panic when your eyes flash at the guns and knives they held.
as quick as your mouth opened to yell, it zipped even quicker when seonghwa’s back comes to blind you from those in front. you hear groans and curses being thrown at seonghwa who stares at them blankly, inhaling before lifting his hand up. motioning them to come forward with two of his fingers.
and then it felt like a blur when seonghwa raised his fist and smashed it in the man’s jaw, your mouth drops at the sight. instinctively holding your own jaw as if you felt the pain, eyes widening as you stare at the scene in front of you.
one vs at-least seven.
with the way seonghwa’s elbow jabs in their ribs, strong punches to their jaws and kicks to their stomach your mouth is left hung open. it felt as if you were watching a live action movie, maybe even a boxing match.
your eyes follow seonghwa’s every move, the way his eyes turn into slits. hair moving with every punch he makes, the groans from his mouth and the movement of his muscle. you can’t help but gawk at him.
from the way he rolled his hoodie up to his elbow, showcasing the ink he’s got that stops just before it goes above his elbow. swirls of art that you’re so entranced by that you totally blind side the fact that seonghwa’s yelling for you.
“ma’am!”
you quickly snap out of your thoughts and look for where you’re hearing his voice, once you do your eyes widen. “hey!” you yell, seeing seonghwa in a rear chokehold. two of the men holding him down while one of them begins to walk towards you.
you take a step back, gripping the bag to your chest with wide eyes while seonghwa yells at you from the back. “y-your shoes!”
you frown, holding the bag tighter as you yell back. “what shoes?! where!”
“your shoes! use them!”
“to hit him?!”
“yes!”
you give him a look, “my jimmy choo’s!?”
he nods and you stare at him with an unreadable face before he yells for you again, “you can buy more!”
you swallow, looking down at your shoes that you know you can’t buy more. but even so, you put the bag away, take your shoes off. hold the heel side up, raising both your hands up before yelling and running towards the herd.
barefoot, in a leather jacket and fighting some goons with heels was something straight out of a romcom. on a friday night, you expect yourself to be with your friends and not smacking heels into people’s chests.
“i’m so sorry, this is gonna hurt-“ you yank the heel down and hear a loud groan and it has you shivering. “i told you this will hurt!”
for a few minutes you keep doing what seonghwa has told you, heel after heel you’ve left them with wounds that ooze fresh blood and just the sight of it makes you grim.
you think you two are set to go but then the men begin to gather around you two in a circle, your back finds itself attached to seonghwa’s.
broken heels in hands, the ribbon design on them falling somewhere along with way whole the structure is completely damaged.
“now…” you inhale, swallowing as you stare at their angry faces. “what do we do now?”
“do you know how to fight?”
you pause, biting your lower lip in frustration. “no, i..never learned.”
he says nothing but stands straighter, “i’m going to pick you up,” your head snaps to him.
“what?” you whisper, eyeing the man standing in front of you. who, with his injuries still manages to stand.
“by the waist,” he continues, eyeing the others on his side. “use your feet to kick them while i spin you.”
“this is insane,” he hears you say and smiles a bit before replying, “this is what we do for living.”
“can’t we just run?” you ask, looking around the road to see ample amount of space to run.
“it’s not easy,” he replies, “if this gets to your father..that is.”
you turn around on instinct, “right.” and then glare at the men. “do it then, i’m sure we’ve both got places to be.”
he spares no second and turns you around, hooking his arms under your armpits before hoisting you up. “kick!” he yells, and you do as he says, eyes shut tight and legs kicking while he spins you around.
you’re so sure you hear a faded snort coming from seonghwa while you’re hitting arms and chests and faces that when he puts you down, he makes sure your jacket is still on and that your balance remains as you collapse in his arms.
when your eyes land on the ground, a sigh leaves your lips at the sight. hearing groans and curses being spewed while a few of them tried to drag themselves away, your eyes then snap to your shoes only to see them ruined.
your jaw drops and your first instinct is to go and grab them, but instead seonghwa snakes his arm around your waist and swoops you to his towering front. your hands fall flat against his chest, eyes widening at what he was doing that is until you realize he had his foot on a man’s hand.
the hand that was reaching for your ankle, you swallow and look up at seonghwa. “..we’re good, right?”
he looks down and your eyes immediately lock, staring into them directly for the first time and not only did it bring a sudden burst of butterflies in your stomach but made your heart stop for a quick second.
but that only lasts for a moment before he pulls away abruptly, “yes ma’am.” you nod slowly, eyes finding the ground.
you tip toe your way across the groaning bodies to grab into the broken pieces of your heels, and then turning around to see seonghwa waiting for you by the side.
you take a quick look at your surroundings before walking towards him, the cold cement road under your bare feet making you shiver. once you’re in front of him, he nods and quietly gestures you to follow him.
and you do, hugging your jacket around you tighter. you walk behind him, eyes on his taller and built frame. one hand holding the white bag, where you could spot redness on his knuckles while the other was tucked in his pocket.
“..i’m so sorry i got you involved into this,” you begin as your eyes catch a glimpse of the bruises on his knuckles.
“i thought you were asleep, ma’am.”
you sigh, closing your eyes before nodding. “i-i had to go to this party..” you mumble, “so i snuck out.”
“from the front gates?” he asks, tone normal and not accusatory of any sorts. “and past the dogs?”
you shake your head, “from the window actually…and past the dogs.”
he nods, impressed before his eyes find themselves staring at the ground. instinctively glancing at your feet and then it occurs to him, “you’re hurt, ma’am.” he whispers, eyeing the slight redness at your ankle and the cuts and dirt you’ve got wrapped around them.
you stare at your feet as you keep walking, “they don’t hurt actually,” you smile. “feels nice to walk bare feet on the cold ground.”
“we should sit down,” he urges, a slight panic in his tone. “you’re limping ma’am.”
you turn to look at him, eyes falling over the hair that hovers over his forehead. “stop calling me that.” you say, lowly as you keep your eyes fixated on him. “y/n, call me that at least when we’re alone.”
he says nothing but presses his lips in a line before looking ahead and pointing straight, “there’s a bench right there, we should at least get you seated.”
you sigh before nodding, quickly checking your phone for time and the messages from kai before putting it back into your pocket and following him.
you sit at a normal distance away from him, or more like he did. once you’re sat, your surroundings are a quiet bliss, the cold night wind and the makeshift roof of leaves above your head, it felt calming.
the night was one full of stars, you look down at your feet. watching the shadows being created by the streetlight that shines on you but especially on seonghwa. when you turn your face to look at him, half of his face is illuminated by the light while the other casts a darker shadow.
as the silence begins to heavy in, you decide to break it with a request you hope he agrees too. “please don’t tell my dad about this seonghwa,” your bite down on your lower lip. “he won’t let me out again.”
“why would he do that ma’am?” he responds, and you swallow. “i believe he should know, and it is my duty to document everything to him so-“
“can you stop with the unnecessary fancy words!” you cry out and turn to him. “you are not going to tell my father about any of this.”
“but m-“
you raise an eyebrow, “you’re not.”
“but why not?” he frowns, fiddling with the bag in his hand.
“because…” you start, eyes looking left and right. “because…you’re my friend, yeah!”
he gives you a quick stare, “but, ma’am i’m not all-“
you cut him off by scooting closer and placing an arm on his shoulder, with a eyebrow raise. “you are now my best friend.” you nod, “and as childish as this sounds, best friends don’t tell each other’s secrets to anyone right?”
he pauses to blink twice before nodding slowly and you smile, “good!” you pat his shoulder.
“so, we should consider this a deal-“ you bring your hand out for him to shake and he looks at you then at your hand accessorized in rings. “-right?”
he sighs audibly and you grin, knowing he’s given up. “thank you so much seonghwa!” with a quick assuring pat and a smile you pull back into silence that is until he speaks.
“y..you don’t have that party to go to?” he mumbles, eyes on the bag he held between his legs. you, pull your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them.
“it’s a little too late now,” you know your phone’s being ambushed by messages form kai mainly him begging, but you rather— can’t help but like this a little more.
he says nothing again and instead fiddles through his bag; your eyes follow his movements until they pause on what you think is ice cream.
he looks over at you and you lock eyes, “you must be hungry,” you tilt your head just a little for your hair to move with it. “..ice cream?”
he holds out a squished pack of ice cream which makes you raise an eyebrow, “it’s a little…deformed?” he squeaks, and you hide a smile before reaching out to take it from his hands.
“thank you seonghwa.” you mumble, and he smiles a little, then gives a small nod and it’s when you notice his hair falling over his eyes.
“your welcome, ma-“
“y/n.”
he looks at you and you mirror him, in fact, you change your position to face him. legs in a criss cross with your jacket being a makeshift blanket on them so that you don’t flash anything, anytime soon.
“my names y/n,” you repeat, taking the wrapper off the ice cream. “i’ve told this multiple times, and i’ll say it again. call me y/n when we’re both alone.”
he nods, “okay…” he hesitates, staring at you as if you were going to speak. but when you don’t, he finally says it even if it feels as if he’s struggling and you don’t know why. “y/n.”
you break out into a smile, “now that we are on first name basis,” you extend your hand out, as if pointing between him and you. “we should get to know each other better, right? for better…uhh-“
“relationship?”
you snap your fingers, “yes that! i’ll go first,”
he smiles, “of course.”
“hi, i’m y/n.” you begin, voice a tone lower to match the quietness. “and i’m currently in a uni? i go out at night because my father doesn’t let me in the day,” he snorts, and you smile. “i’m also! not as snobby as you think.”
“i’ve never thought of you as snobby ma’am,” he says, licking at the ice cream before continuing. “just…picky?”
you grin, “that i am or maybe i just have fine taste?” a round of chuckle leaves you two. “what about you, tell me about you seonghwa.”
“what do you want to know?”
“well, i just know the professional you-“ you pause to lick the ice cream, “the macho, mr smith style assassin! but what’s under all of that?” you wiggle your eyebrows. “a different story?”
he looks down with a smile as you watch him with a curious gaze, “i’m just a simple man doing a simple job.”
you raise an eyebrow, “simple job?” he nods, and you narrow your eyes. “i’ve never heard a simple man having a job at a mafia house?”
he bites down on his lower lip before shaking his head, “how’d you end up working for my father?” you ask, and he looks at the ice cream.
“your father actually met me when i was at my worst,” he begins, and you tilt your head.
“what?”
he lifts his head up to look right at you, “i escaped italy once…illegally, your father helped me out with it entirely.” you notice the way he smiles at that. “he became someone who gave me a shelter and in return i worked for him.”
“sounds heroic.” you whisper, an impressed smile on your face that it makes him laugh a little. “you escaped, why?”
you hear him inhale audibly and it makes you swallow before looking up at the sky, “you don’t have to tell me, that’s fine, somethings should be ke-“
“someone was out to kill me.”
your eyes widen, “what?!” your jaw hangs, processing everything that he’s saying. “h-how did you get away? i’ve heard once italian’s mark something to kill, they will.”
you scoot closer, “..how did you escape them?”
he looks at your wide curious eyes and before even thinking it through, he says it all. “i killed him.”
he watches your jaw drop at that and for a moment he thinks he’s fucked up, which rightfully so, but when you say something, it makes his eyes widen in surprise. “you killed,” you lean closer to whisper, “an italian mafia guy?”
you then bring your hands up to clap slowly with an impressed face, “how haven’t you gotten a movie made on you? that’s crazy, they should title it ‘mission impossible: italy chronicles!’ you’d give tom cruise a run for his money!”
“are you not surprised?” he asks, slightly confused at your enthusiasm over starring him in a movie and not the fact that he killed someone.
“hm?” you pause and then smile a little.
“are you not surprised or scared that i told you i just killed someone?” he repeats, eyeing your rather calm expression.
“seonghwa,” you inhale, shuffling with the jacket before looking at him. “i’ve grown up in this environment involuntarily…i’m used to the killing’s and everything that happens in a group because i have to be, i-i someday have to run this yeah? even if i don’t want to, i have to get used to it.”
“you don’t seem like you want to do anything with your dad’s job,” he murmurs, and you nod, looking down at the jacket as your hand comes to play with the sleeve. “not interested?”
“nope,” you sigh, “i’ve never associated myself with the type of work my dad does, never learnt how to fight or do anything that ties me to that world.”
you then glance at him, “and i don’t plan to anytime soon, but i know i have to one day whether i like it or not-“ you stand up abruptly and he watches you for a quick second. “maybe one day i’ll stop this mafia, who knows?”
he says nothing but nods, knowing the situation won’t change if he says anything. “thanks for the ice cream though,” you change the topic, holding the ice cream cone as if it were a wine glass.
imitating the great gatsby scene where leonardo holds the glass up with a smirk, “and i hope you keep the promise, best friend.” with a small smile, you gather your belongings before waving him a small bye.
but it’s not even a second later that he stops you, “y/n,” you look back, eyebrow raised slightly. “where are you going at this hour?”
“home.”
“you’re walking?” you nod, “but you’re hurt, i’ll get a tax- shit, taxis don’t work at this hour.” he stands up and you blink.
“i’ll walk you home,”
your hands immediately fly up in the air, “no! no! that’s fine, i can walk, it’s just a small walk back home and you’re probably really tired and hurt so i don-“
“-do you always talk this much?” he cuts you off and you smile sheepishly.
“yes,” you immediately respond, holding your jacket close to your chest. “you don’t?”
“they should keep you in a museum, you know?”
you grin, “they should, people will pay to see me, sounds fun.”
he looks down and lets out a breathy chuckle, “i’ll walk you home, it’s dark o-“
“you’re off job s-“
“ma’am.” you raise your eyebrow slightly, “a bodyguard is never off duty, so please, let me walk you home.”
you glance at him with a small smile, eyes searching his face as if he’d say something else but when he doesn’t, you nod. “okay then mr bodyguard, walk me home safely.”
when he stands up, the two of you begin walking back to your place. you barefoot, his knuckles bleeding, chasing, and fighting down goons all on a friday night. you turn to look at his side profile and feel warmth fill your gut before you look ahead.
your eyes then go to your bare feet before your eyes widen. “what about my jimmy choo’s?” you ask in the quiet street, a chill in the air as streetlights far away shine bright.
“i’m sure you can buy new ones, isn’t that right ma’am?”
“those were vintage..”
“they always have better ones!” he mumbles, giving you a quick glance.
“..they were my mom’s.”
“they what.”
“so,” you begin, eyeing your dark and scary mansions that had a red-light beam at the very top, on a dome-like roof. “how do we get back inside?”
you hear seonghwa inhale from beside you and you look at him with a raised eyebrow and hunched shoulders, his jacket wrapped around them tightly as you tried to keep yourself warm.
“do you know the safety system in your house?” he asks, eyes raking the mansion before he steps closer to quietly open the iron gates.
your eyes follow him, “…i think so?” you respond in a mumble. “dads never mentioned it to me explicitly but like i know what he’s up to like, half the time.”
“great,” he turns around, leaning on the gates. “you’re going to help us get in.” he nods, like the ones guys at parties do when they see someone from their element.
you raise an eyebrow, shifting your weight on one foot before speaking. “aren’t you supposed to my bodyguard?”
“and aren’t you supposed to be asleep?” he retorts and watches you pause.
you blink, then nod. “point.” and walk closer to him, squinting at your own house as if it were a mission to cross. eyes narrowing over the trimmed shrubbery with bright flowers that seemed to have blended with the night, adding onto the chilling appearance of your home.
“so according to my dad,” you put your face up against the iron gates, squishing your cheeks on the rails. “there’s a laser security system when you first enter the house- wait but how do you not know this!”
he shakes his head while still looking ahead, “that’s because i don’t stay here, i know the blueprints but i stay there-“ he points at the right of the mansion, and your eyes follow his finger. “at the guard quarters, the security system there is mild.”
“why?"
“because we are the security there.”
you nod with an impressed pout, “huh, no wonder i had never seen you around.”
“i’m your dad’s personal security, i’m usually in his office.” he whispers, leaning a little closer to you. “not around a lot.”
your eyes then land on the area you’ve never stepped a foot in. “is the bodyguard quarters cool?” it’s like a smaller version of your place, yet you spot more class in it with way its architecture looks despite it being rarely visible.
he tilts his head and chuckles a little, “cool? yes, it is.”
you then look at him with a frown, “why do you talk like this?” he pauses. “you sound like a professor more than a bodyguard, are you in cahoots’ with my prof?”
“no,” he answers quickly and hesitantly raises his hand to poke your forehead, your eyes widen, and you look at him who avoids your eyes immediately. “t-the security system, we need to get in before it’s too late.”
you hide a smile and nod before beginning to explain, “when we first enter, there’s a red laser security. once we pass that and go up the stairs, the hallways have small traps all around that can identify the smallest of sounds-“
“-and intruders.” he mumbles before tapping the front gates, “and have you been trained for this?”
“me?” you point at yourself, “absolutely not.”
you hear him sigh audibly, “what will you do when you have to learn all of this? to fight to plan and to be competent enough to take your father’s place?”
“i’ve got you here, so that should be fine.” you hum, and he blinks twice. “right? now let’s go in!”
you open the gates first, cautiously while he follows suit. it’s quiet, eerily quiet. you think everyone’s fallen asleep, so you turn to ask seonghwa what time it was, “it’s two.”
you nod and walk towards the front entrance; body bent a little to keep out of anyone’s hide and to hide in the shadows. while seonghwa follows without doing the unnecessary things you’re doing.
once you’re in front of the gates, you stop and fish into your jacket pocket in an attempt to find your spare keys. “we could just climb your window..”
“there’s no ladder there!” you whisper loudly, immediately clamping a hand on your mouth before quietly inserting the key in the lock and testing it slowly. “also, it’s more fun this way.”
once you hear the quiet and short and satisfying noise of the tall door unlocking, you look over your shoulder and gesture for seonghwa to follow you inside.
“my job was to walk you home ma’am,” he whispers, “i don’t think i should go in-“
but before he even finishes the sentence, you take a hole of his wrists and pull him in locking the door behind you immediately.
“i don’t think this is a good idea ma’am…” you hear him whisper and you look over your shoulder, scanning the foyer.
“why are you so scared? it’s not like my dad will kill you, geez,” you sigh, looking around the big plants that scare you because they look eerily similar to people in your house.
“if he recognizes m-“
your tongue hits the roof of your mouth at that, “he can’t even differentiate between me and my brother in the mornings, so don’t worry-“
before you even get the chance to finish your phrase, there’s a loud knock coming from the stairs right above the chandelier. the sound alone makes you and seonghwa panic and run to hide behind the large plant your mom begged to have.
“you know,” seonghwa inhales, swallowing as he looks around. “your dad can actually kill me.”
you click your tongue, again. “you’re scared for nothing.” and walk ahead but he stays, shaking his head because he knows what the circumstances can be.
when you look back to see him standing there looking at the ground, you sigh and walk back towards him. holding your hand out to him which makes him look at you, you nod towards your hand. “hold it.”
“w-why?” he asks, throat drying as he looks around the place.
you frown, “do you want my dad to find out?” he shakes his head. “so then, hold my hand and i’ll make sure no one finds out.”
you shake your hand at him with a grin that has him narrowing his eyes, but he knows he’s got no other option. because the only person who can save him from your father is you, and if that means you’ll take him under the wing for one day. he doesn’t mind.
so, with that, he hesitantly holds your hand, swallowing as you grip on it tightly before yanking him away.
he follows you down the hallway, holding your hand tighter with every step as his heartbeat begins to skip beats. eyes wandering the quiet rooms that otherwise are bright and loud, now terrify him with each step.
“ma’am, where’s the laser security?” he asks, and you pause right after, swallowing and pointing ahead.
“there,” you mumble, biting your lower lip as you take in the bright red lasers, bright neon red lines parallel to each other. “if we pass this, we’re good to go.”
he nods and then looks at you, “do you know how to do this?”
you grin, “of course,” as fast as you left his hand, he holds onto it faster. stopping you from going forward immediately.
“what’re you doing?!” he whispers, and you point at the lasers.
“passing the lasers? like how they do in the movies?” you say, tone matter-of-factly and he raises his eyebrow.
he pulls you back to him, your side hitting his towering front by surprise. “this isn’t the movies y/n.” you straighten up at the use of your name. “we can get killed, maybe not you, but i can.”
you look at him, “i don’t pay you enough to get killed.”
he smirks, “your father does.” before you retaliate, he puts a finger up to his lips, shushing you before holding your hand and walking on the other side. “follow me.”
he walks you around the stairs, completely away from the lasers— okay maybe not completely because you two did have to duck down quite a few times. but once that was left behind, you were surprised at his tactics.
impressed at his calm demeanor you follow right behind him, mouth shut and eyes on his back. your eyes then land on the hand he’s holding and smile.
“hey seo-“
in a matter of seconds, you’re pushed to the cold wall behind, you know it’s the wall with the way you hear frames rattle a bit. seonghwa’s larger hand covering your mouth as he leaned in, covering you fully and engulfing you in his warm scent while staring into your wide eyes with his sharper ones.
“don’t talk.” he says lowly, noticing the way your eyes blink. “got it?”
you nod repeatedly, eyes searching his face up close. from the bridge of his nose to his fuller lips and then back to his sharp eyes that look to your right. studying the shape of his eye and the long lashes that touch the area of cheek right under his eye, it makes you swallow just at the sight of him.
you don’t make a noise when he makes you move without ever physically holding you, though it’s difficult and makes you confused you follow him either way. the small tapping of your feet and his shoes make the faintest noise, which makes him afraid that you’ll get caught.
“can you walk a little less loudly?” he whispers in your ear and you, first, take one second to feel the shiver run down your spine and two, feel your heart skip a beat.
you then frown, bringing his hand down from your mouth and wrapping it around your waist. he immediately pulls back with wide eyes, “what’re you doing?” he whispers, and you take his other hand and put it around your waist.
“you want me to walk quietly, the only way i can do that if i walk on my tippy toes-“
“what does that gotta do with holding you!-“
“sssh!” you whisper and look everywhere before continuing, “if we match our rhythm, less sound and we won’t get caught.”
“that’s…”
you grin, “genius, i know-“
“-so stupid.”
you face drops, “eyy, come on, you spoilsport!” you whisper. “you just have to hold me, it’s not like that’s a crime!”
he leans in to be face-to-face with you, “in this house, it is.” and raises his eyebrow as you stare him down, long enough for him to sigh and you smile.
“come on, mr park!” you mumble and lean forward. “i’m not even that bad.”
you say before extending both your hands out to him, he pauses and sighs. thinking about all the shit he can get for doing this before throwing his head back, defeatedly placing his hand on yours which you quickly move to your waist.
“hold on tight,” you whisper before looking towards the hallway, “make a noise and we’re done for the night.”
“we’re gonna get caught,” he whispers halfway through, hands neatly wrapped around your waist as you two matched steps as if doing a partner dance at your father’s extravagant gala’s he likes to hold.
“you’re just scared.”
“no,” he immediately refutes, looking you into the eye. “i’m scared i’ll be fired or even worse, killed.”
or even worser, disappoint your father.
you shake your head, then raise your hand to his chest and pat it twice. “then i’ll save you.” as if that’ll make a difference he thinks.
he shakes his head, knowing exactly who will save who and who will get who in trouble. it’s not that he’s scared of dying, he’s scared of disappointing your father’s faith in him. the man who gave him everything he couldn’t ever get; he can’t jeopardize his trust.
but when he looks down at you, your eyebrows scrunched up as your eyes narrow and look ahead. he can’t help but think that if he protects you, he won’t disappoint your father. if he fulfils your every demand, he won’t be jeopardizing anything.
it’s what he hopes in the end.
he walks with you in silence, ears perking up at the slightest of a crack or squeak that makes him grip your dress tighter as if ready to push you behind him to take cover. but instead, none of that happens, the two of your make your way towards your room in peace.
the silence over you two was deafening and you did nothing to break it, that is until you’re in your room. back to your door and eyes on seonghwa, “so.” you whisper, watching his hesitation.
he nods slowly, “so..” he pauses. “i think i should go-“
“-at this time?” you cut him off, locking the door behind before walking to him and he instinctively backs up. “isn’t this more fun? just you and me alone in the room?”
you watch the way his eyes widen, and you bite back a smile, “m-ma’-“
“god, i was just joking.” you laughed, eyeing his surprised face and eyes that blinked repeatedly. “sit down,” you point at the couch behind him. “i’ll go get the first aid box.”
“that’s-“ he says out loud but immediately stops himself, “..that’s not necessary, ma’am.”
you ignore him and walk away towards your bathroom, leaving him standing alone in the middle of your room. he hesitates to move but does it anyway, eyes looking around the room and he realizes it’s the first time he’s stepped in the room of anyone he works for.
he didn’t expect it to be so soon or even at all, but he smiles a little and shakes his head. eyes searching the room and he notices the amount of colour patterned clothes you have hanging around; he expected your room to be big and uninviting but it’s the exact opposite.
warm, a little big and cozy. he smiles to himself as he begins to walk to the bookshelf just behind him, looking at the photo frames where you and your family were present. he lifts a hand to run his fingers on the shelf gently while looking at your childhood photos.
from where he sees his boss, your dad in one of the frames. holding a younger you, who was dressed in a pink tutu. he smiles again, only ever seeing his boss with a stoic face that rarely cracks a grin legitimately smile. he then looks at you, eyes shut as you grinned from ear to ear holding a little trophy.
he then looks at the frame behind it, where you stood alone. older now, maybe in your teens. he remembers this one, the dress specifically.
it was when he had joined newly, he was told you were his only daughter, and he couldn’t help but peek outside to see you— not like a creep but because everyone was looking their boss getting scolded by you.
it was a rare sight to see, but it’s one he remembers the most.
just when he’s about to look ahead, you come walking in. startling him in the way, he scrambles to his feet and looks at you as if he got caught stealing something.
you blink, “you can sit down!” you usher him over to the couch. eyes following him hurrying to take a seat before you join and sit in front of him on the table.
once he’s sat, you raise your eyebrows and extend both your hands. “hands.” you mumble in the emptiness of your room where only a lamp was lit in the far corner.
he looks at you and blinks twice, “ma’-“
“-y/n.”
“y-y/n,” he begins and you’re already reaching for his hands. “it’s fine you don’t have to do this-“
“-and why not?” you cut him off, scowling and he hesitantly pulls his hand back. but before that even happens, you pull his hands back into your lap. “you’re bleeding at your knuckles!”
he looks down at his hands, eyeing the dried blood on his hand and the way your hold on him is so gentle. the first he’s ever experience.
“i’m used to it.”
“well not on my watch,” and you begin to nurse his wound, whispering to yourself about how much blood’s been dripping and how he’s not worried about his wound. “as long as you’re my bodyguard, i don’t give you the permission to get hurt.”
he says nothing and you continue to nurse him until you realize the man doesn’t even make a noise, a squeak, or a hiss in pain. you look up with wide eyes, “is your hand numb?!”
“no?” he answers, looking at his hand and then at you.
“then why..” you scoot closer, “how are you not making a noise in pain?”
“i told you, i’m used to it.” he replies, and you narrow your eyes. he then leans forward to match your stance, narrowing his eyes he continues. “i’ve gotten worse injuries, this is nothing.”
“yeah? enlighten me.”
his features change with the way he smirks, “broke my ribs, both arms, one leg.” he pauses to recall, catching your expression while doing so. “number of concussions and bull-“
“okay okay!” you give up and he smiles a little. “i don’t care how bad you were injured,” you poke his hand, “an injury is an injury. and you’re hurting i just know-“
“-no i’m not.” he says, eyes still on you.
you smile, a little strained. “yeah?” you begin to wrap the bandage around his hand. “yes, you are.”
“no, i’m not.”
you wrap it tighter, “yes.”
“no.” he stares right back.
“yes.” you wrap it again, watching his lip twitch.
but he acts as if nothing hurts, “i’m still good,” he then points at his hand. “you can wrap it tighter.”
“gosh,” you whisper, knotting the bandage before giving him his hand back and falls back on the couch with a smirk.
but he’s quick to regain his posture, hands going down to grab your ankle and place it on his knee. “h-hey!” you yell but he immediately puts a hand to your mouth.
“you’re going to wake them up,” he whispers, and you nod slowly, then look at him holding your ankle. “guess who’s also injured.”
“unlike me,” he brings his hand down and hooks his finger on the box before dragging it closer to him. “you’re not used to this.”
he hums, “correct?” and looks at you as he separates the cotton.
“correct.”
he nods, “which also means you’ll be in pain, correct?”
“a lot.”
he raises an eyebrow, “yeah?”
“hm, i have low pain tolerance.” you mumble as he begins to nurse around your ankle, wincing whenever he dabs the cotton too harshly.
“how will you run your dad’s business if your tolerance is low?” he asks, gently brushing his fingers over your ankle.
you smile, “see…that’s not my plan,” and then hiss. “and if i were to one day…you’ll be there, right?”
he smiles stiffly, “of course, it’s my job to be your right-hand man after all.” he then places your leg down gently before holding the other one up.
“then you better be there for everything,” you say, “don’t miss anything, don’t die and absolutely do not get injured.”
“yes ma’am.”
silence then falls over you two, just him carefully holding your ankle while you watch his hands skillfully wrap the bandage, it makes you wonder just how many times he’s done this. occasionally finding yourself staring at his face when he asked a question rather than responding.
it makes you snort internally at how at first you thought seonghwa was never going to talk to you, be civil and extremely formal to now where he’s more comfortable and warming up.
“thank you.”
he lifts his head up slowly, “…for what?”
you point your finger at your feet, “for that and for beating the guys up and uh, sorry for eating your ice cream and! for dragging you in here!”
he smiles a little and you’ve come to like it when he smiles, even if that’s the only thing he’ll do. “your welcome, ma’am.”
“i had a question,” he suddenly asks, and you beam at his request. “go on!”
he then places your leg down gently before pointing behind you, towards the bookshelf. “that photo there,” you turn around to follow his finger. “with your father.”
“ah,” you hum, glancing at the photo and remembering the moment it was taken. “it was my first ballet recital,” your eyes fall on the pink tutu your dad gifted you. “way before this whole mafia thing started, my dad was a small lawyer.”
you turn to him, “you must know.” and he nods. “business was never good where he worked and we could at times, barely afford a dinner. sometimes i think this mafia thing started because he wanted to gift me a pink tutu.”
he snorts, looking at you with a fond stare. “how come?” he asks, “i heard he took a loan and then was fraudulently framed and jailed.”
you nod, “that’s right, he has a grudge against the insiders of the justice system. so, the only better thing he could think of was,” you smile, “to rule it.”
“and now he controls the insiders the way he wants,” seonghwa adds and you nod. “so, it really started because of your tutu?”
“a man can do anything,” you lean forward till your facing him. “to make his daughter happy.”
he tilts his head and raises his eyebrow, “then that same man can kill me, for his daughter.”
you mirror his expression impressively, “and that daughter can stop him.” you bite down on your lip, “hm?”
he smiles, the one where his teeth show and looks down to laugh a little. his hair falling over his eyes and it makes your heart skip a beat, “thank you.”
you turn your head to the side, “for?” you mumble. “putting you in danger?”
“for fixing my wounds and saving me from your dad, but.”
“but?” you raise your eyebrow and then to glance at him softly.
“but next time there’s a party,” he fiddles with the bandage before looking up. “ask me to join so this won’t happen again.”
“you got it.”
“do you like those seonghwa?”
you ask, pointing your finger at a wallet he’s been eyeing ever since he stepped into the store with you.
ever since the night he walked you home, the two of you have been looking eerily suspicious according to your father who narrowed his eyes the second you two walk in any room.
the eyes of your parents would watch your every move whenever seonghwa was in the room, and you let them. casually chatting with seonghwa in front of them even if he doesn’t respond, though you know he answers through his eyes.
or the fact that he follows you to your uni every day, waits outside or sits by you (always offers to keep his jacket on your seat so you don’t have to sit on anything dirty), opens the car doors for you, offers you his arm for walking purposes, stands with his back to you when you’re getting out of the car and even shares a word with kyle over pens.
which you know kyle likes involuntarily. sometimes he excuses himself and walks out halfway in class, which turns out he does to get the best table at the cafeteria.
where you two sit down and talk, well mostly just you. he listens to you blabber without interfering or objecting, pushing sandwiches your way whenever he thinks you need one more.
to when you were struggling to catch up to your teacher’s pace, hands focusing on notes while your eyes settled on the screen. but it felt as if you couldn’t understand anything and when panic arose in you, you hesitantly looked around for someone to give you notes.
raising your hand anxious but when no avail, you looked at seonghwa who already seemed to have raised his hand.
“seo-“
“professor,” his deep voice rang the classroom of four hundred people. “could you please repeat the section you just went over?”
your wide eyes staring at him as your heartbeat began to speed up, he who didn’t even spare you glance but instead looked down at his lap as if listening to the lecture. “oh, sure!”
or when he almost slapped a classmate of yours for taunting you and you had it physically pull seonghwa away from him.
or when you were getting ready for an event your father had forced you to where seonghwa would not look at you in the eye no matter what, except stand right beside you whenever you talked to anyone.
even if it meant staying through the boring small talks or forced arrange marriage offers thrown your way which, then, seonghwa would interfere in by standing in-front of you.
“unfortunately, we won’t accept any offers of arrange marriages for miss y/n.”
and if they were to put a hand on you, or even do the mere action of reaching it seonghwa would already tower over them and firmly tell them to back off.
“put your hands on her even once, we’ll have consequences to face.” and tap the others cheek, a little harshly.
all while you watched from behind his shoulder, making remarks to fire seonghwa up whenever he’d reject any offers (that your father told him to), “yeah! what he said!”
so now when you two sneakily snuck out right after your class to a mall, he’s been nothing but extremely protective of you. always walking behind you, hands coming to shield you if anyone’s about to remotely bump into you or have his hand on his holster at any given moment.
he turns around, “no ma’am, we’re here for you.” and you look around, eyeing the signature hermès pattern everywhere in the store.
colorful clothes adorning opposite walls and a large glass table with a display of wallets and watches and bracelets. salespeople standing with their hands in front of them with pleasant smiles on their faces, though you know most are directed towards seonghwa which makes you snort.
“you can buy anything you want seonghwa,” and before he opens his mouth, you raise your hand. “i’m paying.”
he shakes his head immediately and frantically, looking around the expensive store before inhaling. “that’s alright ma’am,” he taps his watch, “we should get going before it’s too late.”
with that he walks away, leaving you standing with a grin. you look around the chic store, making eye contact with a salesperson before tapping on the wallet and nodding. you repeat the action every time you spot him staring at an item for too long.
once you’re done, he carries your bags in both his hands. sunglasses on and walking back to your car while you stare at his back with a smirk before walking towards him.
he opens the car door for you, you walk closer until you’re right in front of him. “thank you seonghwa.” he smiles before slowly getting back in the car and driving off.
“y/n,”
the blanket of silence that falls over the entire living room at the sound of your father’s voice sends a chill down your spine, making you shift in your seat entirely.
“yes, dad.”
you look up, eyes falling on the addressed man raising his eyebrow as his one leg is on top of the other. dressed in the finest of expensive fabrics, a well-trimmed beard and two stripes of grey in his hair that he calls a ‘fashion statement’ after watching the housewives of beverly hills.
you’ve come to take him as a joke, but when he uses that tone, you know it’s not your father speaking but in fact the man who runs a whole intel of rings.
“where were you last week, friday,” you chew on your inner lip, eyes on your lap eyeing the neat manicure before answering. “at night specifically.”
“i-in my room dad,” there’s a tremble in your voice that he catches on quickly, he looks up and turns his head to the side. staring at seonghwa who looked straight, never making eye contact with anyone.
“seonghwa,”
the man stiffens upon his name, standing tall before bending at his waist. “yes, sir.”
“where was y/n?” he asks the same question and you turn to look at seonghwa, praying internally that he doesn’t spill the beans because you’d be in a lot of trouble.
“i’-“
“dad!” you quickly cut seonghwa off, “how would seonghwa know, he wasn’t even here on that day! i gave him an earl-“
the hand your father lifts is enough to tell you that he isn’t buying your bullshit, he’s never, even if you’ve tried to make him. he then points at your feet, and you can’t help the way your eyes widen, “why are there cuts on your feet?”
you quickly scramble to give a response, “i was with kai at the sch-“
“y/n.”
you sigh, defeated and lazily staring at your father. “seonghwa, narrate what happened during that day.”
you don’t give seonghwa a look or stare but know that he’ll tell the truth, under the eyes of your father the truth will always come out. it felt as if it were court, and everyone was giving testimonies to send you to jail.
“ma’am was getting late night snacks down the street,” you freeze at his answer, the slight wavering of his tone that you know your dad didn’t catch, but you did. “when a group of wannabes chased her until she ran into me, i quickly fought them away with the help of ma’am and we made it out safely.”
“safely?” you father repeats, eyeing the faint marks around your feet and looks at seonghwa with a glare that’s only ever terrified you. especially on report card days. “i told you, y/n shouldn’t be hur-“
“but he hurt himself too!” you butt in, eyes wide and hands in the air. “he was just trying to protect me, we— he came up with a plan on spot and if it weren’t for him, dad i’d be more injured!”
“this is about you y/n!” you dad yells, eyebrows pulled together in a scowl. “you are my heir not seonghwa, you are supposed to be protected twenty-four seven!”
“there’s already conflicts building in neighboring groups, and i don’t want you to get hurt.”
he then stands up and you follow, immediately getting on your feet and staring in the eyes of your father while also sharing glances with seonghwa who stood with an emotionless face.
“if this happens again,” he takes a step forward and you swallow. “i won’t be as nice as i am.”
you nod shakily, “i-it won’t happen again!”
“seonghwa.”
“yes, sir.”
“find out who those wannabes were,” he nods, “and prepare a lesson of defense for y/n, use the back grounds.”
seonghwa immediately bows, “i’ll prepare one right away.”
“and you,” you straighten up, eyes blinking repeatedly at your dad who shakes his head. “i don’t want a single scar on you, we’ll host a gala soon. do not cause trouble, understood?”
you look down and nod, “yes, dad.”
hearing the footsteps fade away, you finally lift your head to look towards seonghwa. who stood with his hands behind his back, eyes straight and in a well fitted tux.
“ma’am.”
“why’d you lie?” you ask, hearing your voice echo the four walls. taking small steps on the carpet you walk closer to him, stopping as the only thing dividing you from him was the couch.
he stays still as if he heard nothing, so you ask him again. “why did you lie, seonghwa?”
he fidgets slightly before looking over his shoulder and then back at you, “i’m your best friend, isn’t that, right?” hesitance in his stance and tone.
you pause to take in what he said then bream out into a grin that makes your eyes curl into crescents. “i knew!” you gasp, “i could trust you!” you yell but he’s quick to put a finger on his lips to shush you.
jumping in your spot you swiftly lift your leg on the couch, lifting yourself up to wrap your arms around seonghwa’s shoulder and pulling him into an embrace. “you’re the bestest friend seonghwa!”
he stiffens up at the touch, eyes widened slightly and chest pounding.
“if i was your boss,” you pull back, not looking at his expression before announcing loudly while snapping your fingers. “immediate pay raise!”
“you are my boss.”
your hands then land on his shoulder, patting them as you held an expression of dramatic admiration. “i knew i could trust you,” you pat his shoulders before standing straight.
“now…i will be busy for the next two hours and you can-“ you swiftly glance at the clock before looking back at him. “-have a break!”
but before you can move, fidget or maybe even breathe properly seonghwa’s hand comes to grab your wrist, gently but firmly.
“where do you think you’re going?” you stop, looking around the room before staring at your wrist before looking at his unmoving figure.
“me and kai,” you begin, “project.”
he leans his free hand on the couch, leaning in until his face is right in-front of yours. “your project can wait; your father gave you something else to do.”
you squint your eyes, lifting your other hand up to his face. where you extend your forefinger out and poke it in the middle of his black glasses, pulling them down just a little to reveal his eyes.
“no.”
he smiles, not the nice kind. “or do you want me to call your father?”
you shake your head, narrowing your eyes even more as you suck in a breath. “you wouldn’t.”
he smirks, “oh i would, and i don’t think he’d like that very much, would he?” his smirk expands more, knowing he hit a mark he pushes his glasses back on before leaning back to his straighter stance.
letting go of your hand, he uses the same hand he held you by to point towards your right. “now,” he says, a muse to his tone. “off we go to your first lesson.”
“seonghwa,” you sing.
“seong! hwa!”
“hwa!”
“seong-seo-“
“if you think this will distract me from letting you go,” seonghwa turns around, eyeing your frowning face. “then you’re absolutely wrong.”
“we’re going to the quarters and you’re doing the training,” he bends at his waist and tilts his head, eyeing you as if expecting a yes.
“fine.” you grumble out, making a distasteful expression before following him inside the bodyguard quarters he mentioned the other day. stomping behind him purposely so he’d hear but he turns a blind eye to it.
in fact, he pays no attention to your whining about not wanting to train while putting out some bogus explanations which he does not buy one bit until you’re both inside the quarters.
which to your surprise look nothing like what you had imagined, you thought it’d perhaps be dark and cold and dull but it’s quite…the same as your place. straight out of a magazine quite literally, your eyes fall over the lobby where couches were planted as if they were delivered just yesterday.
“do you guys even use the couches?” you ask, seeing how there’s not a bump or a trace of a body sitting on the couch. “or..anything here at all?”
he looks over his shoulder before shrugging, “we only use it if the police ever come,“ you hum. “otherwise, this is just a set. wait till you see the backside, that’s the one we really use.”
you nod, mindlessly following behind him while your eyes wander over each corner. as you walk in further with him, the hallway gets darker and darker. from the bourgeoise 90’s lobby to an almost underground ring type area.
you would’ve mistaken it as a professional underground ring, with the boxing rings to your left and equipment with a suspicious number of doors to your right it feels like a movie set.
you had never been exposed to this side of your dad’s business though you knew everything about it, seeing it in person makes a chill run down your body. feeling unsettled at hearing live echoes and yells coming from the boxing rings.
which is why you stick close to seonghwa, looking over his shoulder as you walked. “is this place, okay?”
he nods without looking at you and you glance over at other guards bowing at you, you smiled awkwardly and waved your hands asking them to stop non-verbally.
“you can’t tell them they don’t have to bow,” you whisper to seonghwa, and he chuckles quietly.
“you’re the boss daughter, our heir.” he suddenly stops to look back and you stare right back at him. “we bow to you because we respect you.”
“but like,” you look around and huddle closer. “what if i don’t want it?”
he raises his eyebrows at that, staring at you with narrowed eyes. “respect? you don’t want the respect?”
you click your tongue, “no!” and then point at everyone who still are bowing. “like bowing, makes me feel older heh,” you grin, and he scoffs.
without saying anything further, he steps to the right before opening a door. standing back before asking you to go in but you stop. “aren’t you the bodyguard? you go firs-“
he cuts you off by walking in and you follow right behind and closing the door, “don’t look at anyone, don’t talk to anyone. keep following me.”
“why not?” you question, a sheepish smile on your face because you know it annoyed him.
“because you’ll get distracted.” he turns around and you’re already a few steps behind him, eyeing the poster pinned to the wall with your hands behind your back and bending at your waist.
“ma’am.” he calls out with a sigh, and you turn your head to him, “ma’am, we’l-“
“ma’am who?!”
“fuck,” seonghwa whispers at the way your eyes widen at the new voice that yelled.
“who was that?”
“no one, let’s get into the room qui-“
“not so fast!” seonghwa sees your eyes move from him to behind him and he instantly regrets it. cursing under his breath he turns around to see a group he specifically wanted you to ignore.
“oh. my. god, seonghwa!” you walk closer towards him but it’s almost like he knew you were, he held his hand up behind him to stop you.
“why are you at work this early?” you frown, taking small steps towards him.
“boss called me in,” you hear him say, “now leave the room, i’ve got some work to-“
but before he can finish his sentence, he’s shoved off to the side revealing three men standing with their eyes widened.
“oh.”
you blink and they blink, on sync.
you take a step forward; they take one back.
“hi,” your voice dropping to a whisper, raising your hand, and doing a little wave while seonghwa gets his balance back only to be shoved back.
“you’re the boss’s daughter!?”
you nod, shakily and in a split second the three men are bowing at you. you chuckle awkwardly before looking at seonghwa who rubs his forehead and sighs.
“oh my god,” the light-purple haired man begins to walk to you but not before seonghwa holds him back by the collars. “h-hey!”
“i told you wooyoung, don’t.”
“why not!” you beamed, “hi wooyoung, i’m y/n its very nice to meet yo-“
“she said my name,” and wooyoung collapses onto the rest two.
“h-hi, i’m yeosang,” the blond man pointed at himself, and you smiled, and then he points at the one with cerulean haired man. “and he’s hongjoong.”
hongjoong who’s eyes widen at the introduction immediately holds wooyoung up, “we are very grateful to serve you.” and bow in a sync, at the perfect height.
you look at seonghwa who raises his eyebrow at you and then at the trio, “it’s nice to meet you too and please-“
“she said please,”
“wooyoung.” seonghwa hissed, voice low and demanding and it made you swallow.
“sorry, sorry!”
“hi y/n?” wooyoung steps forward extending his hand out for you to take. “can we call you that?”
you take his hand and shake it, “of course you can!”
“she shook my hand, oh my gosh.”
“that’s it.” seonghwa swoops in to pull wooyoung back and motioning for you to join him inside, never putting a hand on you.
the trio stood in a line as you walked past them with a grin, they all returned, especially wooyoung who you seem to fancy.
once the door’s closed behind you, you’re welcomed to a semi-broken-down core of a practice area. boxing equipment laying around with faded colours of red and blue gloves as well as dumbbells that were a funky neon green.
“your friends are nice.”
“don’t like them too much.” he mutters, and you look back at the door, “don’t befriend them either.”
“why-“
he looks back and you stop midway, “training?”
you blink and nod, not pressing anything further seeing his expression. “yeah.”
“hit once on the side.”
“like that?”
“no.”
you sigh, letting your shoulders slump and you turn to look at him. you’ve been doing this for an hour and a half straight, you’re sure its lunch time but you don’t dare remind him. especially when he’s got that frown stuck on his face since the very beginning.
tux off and only in a white shirt whose sleeves are rolled to his elbows, he’s been constantly demanding you to punch or kick a certain way. even if it’s correct, he asks you to do it his way because-
“it’s my way or the highway here.”
and you’d use the dad card on him.
“wait till dad finds out about this.”
to which he smugly replies to, “hm, he won’t come to save you.”
which true, and you hated how aggravating it was.
you had to do this class repeatedly as your dad warned you off the dangers, that were currently ongoing the world you lived in, where you were an easy target.
“do five more sets and we’ll call it a break.” your eyes must be glimmering for seonghwa to take note off and shake his head, coming to walk behind the long red coloured punching bag.
gripping his slim fingers around it he looks at you and then nods, “five more.” and if it weren’t for your brain to be completely blinded by the idea of not doing this anymore, you would’ve noticed the way seonghwa looked at you.
or more how you looked at seonghwa, with that white shirt rolled to his elbows, how could you not ogle him up and down? not only does it make you smirk in between the lessons but also makes you want to slow time down even more than it already was.
when he taps the bag, you snap back to reality and nod, bringing your gloved clad hands up to your chest. standing in the way he’s taught you (for ten minutes) before throwing a punch at the bag, which makes it jiggle back.
“again,” seonghwa sighs, the disappointed look on his face making you clench your fists tighter. “hit it right where my hand is.”
and you do, hit it where he told you but he’s just not happy. with the way his face remains the same, where his eyebrows are scrunched together with a tick in his jaw.
even if you wanted to say something, you stopped yourself before throwing a punch again. but this time his lips leave a small ‘tch’ sound that makes you grow irritated.
“what is it?” you finally ask, hands on your waist and weight on your one foot. “is it the way i’m not hitting to your satisfaction?”
“exactly that.” he responds, walking around the bag before coming to stand in front of you. hands crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face, “i want you to copy what i’m asking you to.”
“but i am doing what you asked me to!”
he sighs, running a hand through his black hair while you stood with an eyebrow raised. he glanced at you and then shakes his head slightly, “watch how i do it and then repeat, okay?”
before he turns around, looking at you to make sure you’re watching before standing in his position. fists to his chest, eyes narrowed and be throws a punch that’s so loud that the hit echoes the entire room twice.
you stare at him blankly, hands by your aide and eyes blinking repeatedly as he hits the bag one more time and your jaw drops. a slow motion of him punching the bag replays in front of your eyes repeatedly until he snaps his finger at you and asks you to stand properly.
but again, you don’t even stand properly to his level that he comes to stand behind you. you feel his towering front to your back, with the warmth and the slight smell of perfume and the mix of sweat.
his breath now fanning down your neck and you swallow, “now what?” you say, voice turning into a whisper automatically as your heartbeat begins to ring in your ear.
he raises his hands to your waist, hovering his hands beside it and never not touching it. that’s before he inhales sharply and quietly asks, “can i hold onto you?” his low tone making you shiver.
you swallow before nodding and then you feel his larger hands come to settle on the either side of you. you inhale sharply as he holds your hips gently and moves you into the correct position then when you thought it was over, his hands lift to hold into your forearms.
“i’ll guide you,” he mumbles before clearing his throat and you nod. “watch and learn.”
he then moves his hand the way he would punch, with every action his chest hits your back and your heartbeat skips beats. he does the same in silence a few more times before stepping back, “try it yourself.”
and you do, swallowing first and then hitting the punching bag with the exact amount of force seonghwa wants. and if it were not for him to stand behind you, you would’ve definitely seen the corner of his lip perking up into a smirk before he finally dismisses you.
with a loud exhale you plop onto the ground with a noise that he smiles at, staring you down while he stands beside you. “i think i liked the heels better for defense, don’t you think?”
he snorts, placing his hands in his pocket before bending at his waist. “if you’re okay with destroying your jimmy cho-“
“never mind.” you glare, a small pout forming on your lips, and you look the other way. body laying like a starfish that he can’t help but find endearing but before he thinks into it more, he excuses himself to walk out.
you lift your head up on your elbow and watch him leave, one eyebrow raised and lips forming into an ‘o’ as if you’d whistle while staring at his brooding back and broad shoulders.
once the door’s closed you find yourself looking at the lord and new posters stuck on each other on the walls, some ripped while others faded with years.
you let out a sigh of relief for the first time since you walked in here, with the tension between you and seonghwa, the lingering hot stares, the subtly touches over the span of months you’ve been with him has you waking up at nights.
at first maybe you thought it was some weird crush you had on him, which got brutally debunked by your friend kai. who you texted and called during the nights, where he’d yell at you for waking him up and then give you the sweetest advice the other second.
“kai, what if he doesn’t like me back?”
“you gotta ask him that yourself,” you’d hear him yawn, “there’s a lot of reasons for him to say no even if he likes you, y’know?”
“like what?”
“your godamn father.”
right.
because you can’t do anything in this house if you don’t have his permission. that’s how it has been growing up, aside from the luxurious provided to you (which you were grateful for), you were never allowed to hang out with anyone at your school or outside.
the only person your dad trusted (borderline not) was kai, other than that, you were sheltered and deprived of the interaction you wanted. to date, to smoke perhaps or do things your once teenager heart wanted.
which now meant, feeling your heartbeat skip or beat way too much when you’re around seonghwa or have butterflies in your stomach when he’d do the slightest of actions to make sure you’re safe.
whether it be him giving you his number so that he’d be able to join you in your next sneak out where he breaks his forefront with you. chugging down soda drinks or heavily spiced noodles to eating flavored ice cones where your tongues would get colored.
so that ‘crush’ isn’t exactly a crush anymore, as much as you hoped it didn’t progress mu-
“y/n?”
you snap out into reality when you hear your name but want to fall back into it when you realize his face is right in front of yours.
“hi,” you whisper and watch his lips twist into a smile.
“hi y/n,” his voice suddenly falls deaf on your ears, “let’s practice again, okay?”
you’re blinking again and again, and he watches with a smile before snapping his fingers in front of your face, “y-yeah, practice, let’s do that.”
“are you okay?” he asks, eyeing your widened eyes with soft eyes. he leans in closer, close enough for his nose to be just, just touch yours. “you’re breathing quite heavily.”
“i’m good!” you stand up suddenly, looking everywhere but him. “we, uh, we should get back to practice!”
which went awfully if it meant you staring at seonghwa half the time and blanking out. every minute you spend with him just confirms kai’s accusations at you about how you liked seonghwa.
and if it weren’t for him to be so damn close to you all the time, maybe you wouldn’t have felt this way. but now, you aren’t even paying attention to what he’s saying. just being aware of him beside you, his hands lifting to point and suddenly your attention goes to that.
the more you followed his hands, the sooner you realize there’s something burning at your elbow. which takes you a second to realize and when you do, you’re hissing in pain loudly.
loud enough for him to immediately hold the punching bag straight, hurriedly reach for your arm gently and asking, “are you alright?” he soft checks your arm as you twist your face into one of intense pain.
“i…can’t move my arm.”
“i told you to pay attention! look at you now, you’re all hurt!”
you don’t register the next few moments, because one second, he's yelling at you about how you’re hurt and not paying attention. the other he’s sat you down, kneeling in front of you while wrapping a bandage around your elbow.
“you have to start being careful y/n.”
you hum, staring at his face that’s full of worry and it makes your insides do summersaults.
“but then who’d do this for me?”
he can’t help but breathe through his nose at that, biting back a smile before he swaps it back to his frowning face. “ow!”
he sighs audibly, staring at your elbow that’s wrapped in white before looking at you in the eye.
“let’s call it a day then hm?” he mumbles, and you nod slowly, he then reaches beside him to pull out a towel that he lifts up to your face and wipes the sweat off.
“hey seonghwa,” you whisper, loud enough for him to hear and hum an answer. “…you need to stop doing this,”
his eyes flicker to you as he continues to pat away at your face, “stop doing what?”
“playing with my heart like that.”
“y/n, no.”
“hwa, yes.”
“no!”
you look at him with a deadpan, raising an eyebrow and folding your arms over your chest.
you, seonghwa and the trio who’s currently yelling really loudly behind you two came to the store, right before the gala. more like you forcing them all to get out and look good for the gala even if they all said no, you knew they wanted to go.
and curse that stupid rule of bodyguards not being family, you were inviting them, nonetheless. a little scolding from your dad wasn’t something you minded, so even after their ‘attempts’ to stop you, you were successful in getting them all out to the store.
and currently, unsuccessful in getting seonghwa to try an outfit.
“yes!” you whisper loudly, shoving a blazer towards seonghwa and pushing him in the changing rooms.
“y/n, i can’t be wearing this!” he argues back, looking left and right in the rather empty changing room hallways. “..and we can’t be seen like this!”
“like what?” you ask with a playful smile before taking a step closer to him, in the slim hallways. “like this?” you raise your hand and place it on his forearm. “or like this?”
he swallows before looking away towards the end, “your dad’s men are here, if they see us like this we’d be in big trouble.”
you look to where he’s looking, narrowing your eyes to look for anyone but there’s not a soul standing there. with a roll of your eyes, “i’m not kidding,” he lowers his voice to a whisper, “y/n!”
“fine then, my dad’s men are here, right?” you move to the side and open the changing room doors, “then let’s give them a show.”
panic immediately rushes to his face as you push him inside the changing rooms, to the point his back is up against the mirror. “m-ma’am we can be fo-“
“-you talk so much, don’t you?” you say, eyebrows knitting together. “now wear this and come out,” before he opens his mouth you continue again. “this is an order.”
you lean your face closer to his, close enough that you can smell his perfume and it makes your stomach churn. his eyes now wide and staring at you, blinking repeatedly while you search his face.
taking your time to marvel at his face, a small smirk appears on your lips that he finds himself looking at. your glittered lips, courtesy to that lip-gloss he asked to carry in his pocket looking at him with a pout.
“y-y/n.”
your eyes flicker to his, a hint of tease in your eyes you raise your brow slightly. and without a single thought behind your eyes or your mind, you end up blurting something that shows instant regret on your face.
“are you married?”
“what?” his face drops and you curse under your breath.
“no like,” you bite down on your lips, “i just…can’t be seen romancing a taken man, you know, my reputation and all?” you blink.
he laughs, a loud laugh that has you stopping in your tracks to look at him. his head falls on you, forehead leaning on your shoulder as his shoulders shake while laughing and you stay still.
with blood shooting up to your cheeks, a shy smile on your face he looks up. “no,”
“no what?” you ask, paying no attention to the way he looks at you because you’re so lost in the way your heartbeat rings in your ear.
“i’m not married.” he mumbles, taking a step forward and you take one back until you’re standing outside the changing rooms.
“single.” he clicks his tongue and with a wink closes the curtains on you.
you stay still for a few seconds, just staring at the curtain until your lips twist into a smile, the one where you bite down on your lower lip.
you then turn around, the smile still on your face and stomach fluttering with butterflies before your eyes set on where seonghwa was pointing at.
“your dad’s men are here!”
the smile you had is quickly replaced by a small frown, fishing your phone out you text you dad wondering just what the fuck is he doing sending his private men when you have your bodyguards with you.
y/n, 2:35pm
dad did you send
someone to keep an
eye on me?
y/n, 2:37pm
i see the seen receipts
u can respond
dad, 2:40pm
come home and we will talk.
with an annoyed sigh you put your phone back in your pocket and then turn around just in time for seonghwa to pull open the curtains.
“oh,” you whisper, standing frozen with your hand still at your back pocket and eyes widening as you look at him up and down.
“how is it?” he asks, fiddling with the cuffs as he straightens the fabric down.
“good…” you mumble, your eyes doing that thing where you look at him up and down slowly as if to save the image in your mind. “great actually…y-yeah,” you nod repeatedly before looking away to whisper an “oh my gosh.”
“is the colour good?“ he asks, completely and utterly oblivious to the way you’re staring at him and if he were to notice he didn’t mention anything. “don’t you think you’re spending too much?”
and how can you not look at him, men in tuxedo’s were always your weakness but what was even worse was when they looked so good in it. “gosh,” you whisper to yourself as you look away and internally yell at yourself to get it together.
“we’ll get this one!” you nod repeatedly, eyes away from him and turning around to walk to the cashier
“y/n, in no way you’re paying.” you grin hearing the four repeat the same thing to you repeatedly.
seonghwa then comes to stand right behind you causing you to look up at him, “yes?”
“y/n, this all is really expensive-“ he looks at the faces of the rest, “we could’ve just gotten the suits from the nearby shop.”
“but i don’t like the fabric they have there.” you retort back with a growing smile; you then raise your hand to pat his shoulder. “so don’t worry.”
when you turn around to tap your card, you don’t look at the total cost that is until seonghwa decides to angrily whisper in your ear.
“four full suits,” he grits as he looks at the price. “that’s almost 30k!”
“really?” you gasp as you look at the design on your card, void of any surprise.
he nods, “i told you we shouldn’t-“
“-i thought it was expensive.”
you look over your shoulder to watch his face drop with a soft smile before tapping the card, hearing the beep and picking your bags up.
“where to next?” you turn to look at them, blinking twice. “food?”
“n-no!”
“this is where you’re meeting your friend?” seonghwa asks from beside you and you turn to him with a grin that he squints his eyes at.
“what friend?”
he looks in front of him when you nod, a strange looking diner with broken neon lights and a welcome sign full of rust.
“it’s a sweet little diner!”
he thinks it’s anything but sweet, in fact, it looks terrifying and in an extremely sketchy area where the only people visible are older ladies that resemble babushkas.
he’s glad he has his gun right up in inner his chest pocket, ready to pull it out whenever he sees anyone except you glare at him to put it back.
“table for three please!” he hears you ask the lady inside, who gives him a good look before looking back at you.
his eyes look all around at the wallpaper that he’s sure he can find at his grandma’s place.
“there’s only table for two left,” the raspy, deep, and scratchy voice of hers tickles your ears.
it’s then when seonghwa leans near your ear, “ma’am, this place seems way too sketchy-“ he glances at the lady glaring at him. “i-i don’t think we should stay he-“
“we’ll take that one then!”
the lady in front hums with disdain, “married?” she asks, writing something up in her old rust colored diary.
both of you stop blink and exhale on sync.
"no.” he answers.
“yes.” you answer, giving him a look and a tight-lipped smile. “only recently actually! right honey?” you exclaim, holding his forearm and leaning on him that makes him stop in his tracks.
seonghwa stares at you with wide eyes, ready to explain to you how this is not right but your glare has him nodding.
“that’s right!” you kick his shin, “b-baby!”
you smile, eyes curling into upwards crescents as the lady nods. “okay, you can go in.”
once you’re sat, you wiggle your eyebrows at an emotionless seonghwa. leaning forward to pat his shoulder, “how are you honey?” you tease, “do you need water?”
“y/n.”
“what?” you ask, hiding back a smile when the waitress (aka the lady in the front) walks by you two with menus. “loosen up hwa!”
“this is a really stupid idea.”
you shake your head and click your tongue, “not an idea,” you correct him. “but a date.”
that seems to set him off, “y/n if anyone sees us here, we-“
“i bet you can’t even order.” you interrupt him.
he frowns, “yes i can.”
you lift an eyebrow up, “yeah?” he nods, and you raise your hand to call over the waitress. “do it then.”
he gives you a look when he realizes what you’re doing and shakes his head, sighing as the waitress comes over, chewing her gum obnoxiously. “can we have two plates of pasta?”
“there’s like thirteen choices of pasta in our menu,” the waitress retorts back and you bite back a laugh. “chose one mister, make our lives easier.”
his gaze flickers to yours for a brief moment to see you cupping your mouth, “okay..” he sighs, “two plates of carbonara-“
“that’s not on the menu.”
you choke on the water you had been drinking and heat him sigh out loudly, “just…just give us your best dish.”
“you want it as a pasta?”
“yes!” you answer instead of him, “just please bring us anything, we’re really hungry!”
“you guys are weird.” she says, and you nod.
“look who’s talking,“ seonghwa mumbles, a bit too loudly, wanting a glare from the waitress and a snort from you.
“where have you dragged me y/n.”
“to fun.” you answer, leaning back while shooting him a finger gun.
fun was surely delivered, especially when the waitress accidentally dropped the sauce on seonghwa’s sleeves and mumbled a “deserved it.”
or maybe how you two were left utterly surprised at how good the dish was, both your eyes widening dramatically. mumbling how good it was and how he underestimated and judged it before he had anything from here.
and the fun only exceeding when in the middle of your dinner date, the restaurant seemed to play some music that worked like crack on you two. you standing up mid-way of drinking a cola and joining the five others dancing in the middle.
the five others being, two staff members, one chef and another customer.
while seonghwa sat and ate his pasta, watching you from his seat with a smirk. eyes on your every move and it felt like the time had slowed down for him, the restaurants dark nature and red and yellow lights framed you perfectly in his eyes.
he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, seeing how you’d bite your lips and how your hands were in the air while you tried to mumble along the song.
he didn’t realize how long he had been looking at you that he didn’t notice you calling out for him, which he did shook his head at first but joined, nevertheless.
surpassing you by shaking his hips and leaving the others wide mouthed, all while his hands were on your waist, as if reminding everyone to not mess with you while you moved along the beat. he looked like the terrifyingly handsome man who was possessive over you, you liked that agenda.
before you two left, the waitress brought over a box of rings which made you squeal. “choose one for yourselves!” and then she explained how it was a side business and you immediately chose two.
One black and the other purple, simply because the two had the same design just different colors. One for seonghwa and the other for you.
“you two should put it on here!” the waitress said, ushering the two of you to exchange rings in the middle of the restaurants
which seonghwa surprised you with, gently holding your hand and slipping the ring on your forefinger while you smiled teasingly before doing the same.
When two of you left, it rained heavily. With no sign of a store nearby to grab an umbrella, you decided why not walk under the rain.
“y/n, you’re gonna get sick!”
“it’s worth it!” you yell back, twirling in the rain while he watched you from afar. though following you anyway, with a permanent smile on his face.
he thinks it’s the most he’s ever smiled, and it happened to be when he’s with you.
and then hears you sniffle, drenched from top to bottom yet a smile never left your lips. “cold?” he asked, and you nod, and then he removed his long warm coat to drape around your shoulders. “good?”
“great.” you answered, heart skipping a beat.
and if he thought you two would call it a day there, he was wrong. because you dragged him into a photo booth to take pictures, one where he stands stuff as a guard and their others where you forced him to make at least one face.
“put up a peace sign at least!” you whined your which he smiled at and did as you told, copying you and taking the pictures you wanted.
where in one you had your hands on his shoulder in the cramped booth, the two of you pushed up against one other. eyes staring into each other’s eyes while your breaths mingled, and if one move, he’d end up kissing you. and it’s not like you minded, noticing his blushing face whenever you were remotely two inches away from his face, you found it endearing.
and then you took him to a playground, thankfully which was near his place. challenging him for a round of basketball to which he shook his head at, “we should go back home now, y/n, it’s almost ten-“
“just one round.” you asked, holding up one finger with shiny eyes and he couldn’t help but nod.
though he beat you in every single round that was definitely more than one, you yelled at him to either “stop cheating!” followed by a gasp or a “i was too easy on you!” or “i let you win!” to which he’d teasingly nod his head at.
and now you two stood in front of his apartment door, “i asked boss if you could stay the night, he said only if you’re back early morning.”
you turn to him, “i don’t wake up before ten by the way!” and push open the door while he stands with his shoulders slumped before joining you inside and keeping a distance.
“sorry, my house isn’t as big as yours.” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed.
“i kind of don’t care?” you say, looking around his small living room with a smile. “now where’s the bathroom?"
he points to the right and you say a thank you before scurrying towards it, leaving him standing alone by the door with his hands in his pocket.
a sigh leaves his lips as he begins to take his coat off, the one that now smelled like you. but before he has the chance to hang it up, his hand rummages through the pocket to find a strip of photos you two took.
a smile forms one his lips unknowingly, staring at the strip where your lips made a pout and he tried to copy it or where you held up a peace sign and his eyes were on you.
he couldn’t recognize the stare he was giving you, but he knows it’s something he shouldn’t dwell on further, knowing it’s against the rules given to him.
“you think he’d like this?” you ask, tapping your feet on the gravel repeatedly while looking at kai through the car window.
“you bought him the entire store,” he snaps his hand, “what makes you think he wouldn’t?”
you sigh and nod, leaning over the window and tapping the dashboard. “can you bring what i asked you in a while? i’ll text you okay?”
“got it,” he nods, pushing his glasses down, winking and raising his fist in the air.
with a smile, you grab the bags (in the hand that doesn’t hurt) from the backseat and take a quick look at the dark, cloudy sky and you know it’s about to rain.
“if i don’t text you,” you say, fishing your phone out to see the messages being sent in by hongjoong. “that means he said no.”
he nods and you turn around, holding the big bag in your right hand as kai drives his car out the driveway before you make your way inside the bodyguard quarters. hiding from the cameras you know your dad would be able to watch and you’d be done for.
the second you’re inside, a whole line of bodyguards stand at the lobby waiting for you with a grin. they bow in sync, and you stop them mid-way, “y-you don’t need to bow please!”
they all smile, and you return it awkwardly before asking where seonghwa was, and at the mention of him they all stand up straight. gulp and then point towards the left in unison.
you hold back a snort before nodding and running down the hallway, a soft smile on your face and a bag hidden behind your back. you walk, jog, run whatever down the hall until you’re standing in front of the room where hongjoong said seonghwa would be at.
with a long and shaky inhale, you lift your hand to wrap around the doorknob. but before that you press your ear up against the door, feeling your heartbeat increase with each punch you hear from the inside.
swallowing the lump down your throat, you twist the door open and step inside quietly. closing the door behind you, you’re welcomed to a dark room.
where in the middle shone a bright light, where you hear loud punches being thrown at a punching bag and you immediately know it’s seonghwa.
from the rough breathing and the groans, your insides coil up as you slowly step towards the light. and when you do, you’re able to see the back of seonghwa though the netted wall. he wears a black tank top, and your eyes can’t help but rake at his broad back muscles flexing with every movement he does.
with a small smile you begin to walk towards him, hoping he won’t notice you right away. you watch the way his hands move skillfully, how he stands in one place het completely demolishes the bag with a single punch.
his hair over his eyes, arms shining with sweat and jaw clenched you couldn’t help but feel your knees grow weak.
his hand threw a loud punch at the bag, sweating and grunting with each movement before he finally stops. letting out a loud sigh and unwraps the white bandages around his fists, stretching his shoulders while he’s at it.
then he throws the bandages on the floor and turns around only to stop, “y/n?” he squeaks, eyes looking at you up and down as you walk in holding cake with a candle lit up in the middle.
“w-what are you doing he-“
“happy birthday mr bodyguard!” he hears you squeal as you walk closer to him holding the cake that he finally gets a full view of you as you come under the light singing the birthday song.
“happy birthday hwa.” you whisper, and his eyes grow wide and shiny and glassy. you walk closer with a growing soft smile, carefully reaching out to grab his wrist. “come sit first.”
“y/n..” he mumbles, and you smile, placing the cake box on the floor as you take a seat on the ground. “who…who told you?”
“hongjoong,” you respond, pushing the cake his way with a smile that he can’t help but want to see every day. “now, blow the candles!”
“you didn’t have to do this y/n,”
“who was going to then?” you raise an eyebrow, “they all told me you never celebrate your birthday, because you’re so stubborn and bossy and angry-“
he cuts you off with a deep laugh that makes butterflies gather in your stomach, “did they really tell you that?”
you shake your head, “no, just my observations.” he smirks, “i got a keen eye you know?”
“hm?” he teases before you push the cake his way, he grabs the plastic knife from your hand and leans forward.
“i haven’t formally celebrated my birthday in years.” he whispers, and you smile a little, “thank you."
hovering his face over the cake, he looks at you with a soft look and reaches for your hand gently. “do it with me.”
you frown, “no, it’s your birthday silly!”
he hears nothing but motions for you to come closer and you do, on a count of three the two of you blow the candle at the same time while he still holds your hand, occasionally rubbing his thumb over the top of your hand.
“happy birthday seonghwa!” you say once again, sheepishly bringing a small confetti popper out and popping it.
you expect it to rain confetti with a pop all over but all you get is seonghwa throwing his head back laughing, while all the confetti’s laying in your lap. you popped it the wrong way.
you bite your lower lip before gathering them in your hand and throwing the confetti in the air, it’s right then when time falls slow for him.
he watches the way colorful confetti fills the air and how your eyes glow at the sight of it, a smile one your face and it feels like you were the epitome of light for him.
a pot of honey, or an orb of light or what he hears people in movies call a euphoric feeling.
“thank you,”
it’s all he’s able to say because he’s so fixated on your tinted lips curling into never ending smile that makes his heartbeat ring in his ear.
the more he looks at you, he feels like he’s in some cliché hallmark movie that wooyoung forces him to watch to experience affection.
he thinks he’s experiencing affection right now and he wishes wooyoung was with him but the other part of him wished he didn’t have him there, not because of his teasing but because he wanted this moment to himself.
where you feed him a piece of cake with a cherry on top, accidentally brushing your fingertips to his lips for a quick second to you sitting by him with a polaroid camera in front of him.
the camera you’re barely able to hold properly because of your elbow, which he supports by holding the other side of the camera.
“say cheese!”
he doesn’t, but smiles either way which makes you snort and take the picture anyway. one where he holds the cake and the other where he’s midway of eating it, where his cheeks are full, and eyes are wide and shiny.
and as you’re about to move away, he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you close. close enough for you to be right in front of his face, tips of your noses touch. “where do you think you’re going?”
“nowhere.” you whisper, shakily. eyes on him but they keep flickering down to his lips.
“take a picture with me then,” he asks, searching your face as the light highlights it. the dark room where only you two are in, it feels as if you’re in the sets of the greatest showman. “…because i want to have a memory of you.“
“well, it’s not like i’m going anywhere,” you say cheekily and his smile falters for a second, but before you notice he shakes his head. “i’m still here, but! since i’m really nice we’ll take one.”
with that you sit by him, a little distance between you two that he notices and snakes his arm around your waist to pull you in closer.
“good?” he whispers down your neck, low and raspy that it sends a shiver down your body.
“good.” you whisper back, looking at the camera before lifting it up, barely, with your arm that is until he takes it from your hands and holds it in his.
he moves closer till your shoulder hit’s his chest and his chin is rests on top of your head, the action alone makes you want to curl in closer but it’s the thoughts in your head that stop you.
which to be fair, your thoughts are never ones that won’t end up on your tongue. which is exactly what happening in the next few moments that seem like the most aggravatingly slow moments.
“i like you.”
he snaps the picture.
you feel him stiffen up beside you and you closer your eyes, biting your lips and repeating you’re done for, you’re done for, you’re done for.
“i like you seonghwa.” you repeat and keep going until you know you’ll be regretting it. “i have for a while now….a-and i,” you clear your throat, “i couldn’t hold it anymore.”
“y/n..”
“i know! i know!” you quickly interrupt him, “you just think of me as your boss and all, which yes, go you! but…i know this sounds selfish but..”
“but?” he whispers, feeling his breath fan down your neck and it only makes you bite your lips more.
“i kind of, not kind of! but i did fall for you…it may sound selfish because you were just doing your job and…” you swallow, feeling tears prickle at your eyes at this confession even if it sounds so stupid. “…and i’m sorry for that but i really wanted you to be more than just my bodyguard.”
“i also know you won’t agree to it!” you explain, and he listens to it while staring down at you. “which is your decision and i respect that…but i really wanted to tell you this before..before it became worse.”
“why?”
your heart thumps against your chest at the silence, heart dropping to your stomach and palms growing sweaty.
“you’re comforting to be around,” you answer, looking down at your lap. “you do the smallest things, and it drives me crazy, i thought i was crazy at first…but the more i spend my time with you.”
“i was convinced i started to like you more than i had previously,” a sigh leaves your lips, as you mind plays flashbacks. “every time you’d walk by in that suit of yours,” you smack your forehead lightly at that. “god, i didn’t know someone could be that attractive, with that angry face all the time.”
“so yes…” you inhale sharply and make the mistake of looking at him, “i really do like you, not as a bodyguard…but more than that, gosh this feels so stupid to say..”
before he gets to answer, you’re already up on your feet. looking anywhere but him, “i..you can take your time to think,” he watches you step back, “i’ll be outside!” before you scurried away.
leaving a dumbfounded seonghwa with a small box in hand, a cake on the floor and a polaroid beside him.
“i like you.”
“shit.” he whispers to himself in the silence, fingers opening the box in his hands which reveals a wallet. his eyebrow furrow at that, “wallet?”
but then he remembers it’s the same one he was looking at the other day, where you two went out after your class and how you were asking him if he liked a certain item.
“shit, shit, shit.”
“i like you, more than just my bodyguard.”
he then runs a hand down his face, biting his lips as he pushes his hair back and looks down at the polaroid of you and him. he lifts his it up in his hands and stares at it.
a photo of you and him together, unlike all the photos he’s been in where you’re in the front beside your father and he’s in the far back.
your smile makes his lips curl into one, your cheek squished against his chest and his chin on your head, he sighs as he stares at it more.
“i did fall for you.”
he wished he felt surprised at what you had hold him, but on the inside he wasn’t. he felt like he knew it all along, how you felt and as the days went by and…he couldn’t help but be attracted to you too.
from your bright, cheery, and teasing personality that, at first, got on his nerves but now he can’t get it out of his nerves because he’s grown to be very fond if you as well.
and he knows he’s fond of you especially if he gets called out by wooyoung and hongjoong in the hallways, whenever you’d walk last him and wink at him it’s like they knew and teased him about it.
so, he then finds himself looking at the door, biting the insides of his lower lip he stands up and as he’s about to walk out the door with a smirk on his face, he remembers your father.
and all the blood from his face drains.
how can he betray your father like that? his hands fall down the doorknob as his heartbeat thumps against his chest. how can he go against your fathers’ rules? and fall for you?
“i like you seonghwa.”
“do not touch my daughter.”
“i like you seonghwa…more than just my bodyguard.”
how can he betray the hand that feeds him?
but can he betray his own heart like that?
as seonghwa steps outside the back doors after getting looks of tease from the other guards, which he responds with a grim and stands by the front doors.
watching the rain fall and create mists all over, so much so that he’s barely able to see the back yard. he inhales before grabbing an umbrella, opening it with one hand while the other stays in his pocket where he had the picture of you two.
with only one thing in his mind, you.
at how he’s going to answer you, your dad and himself.
speaking of you, he sees you running towards him from the white mists in the dark night. at first, he squints his eyes to make sure it is you and not some newbie doing rounds around the place.
once you’re more visible to him, his heartbeat takes a sudden stride in speed as you run towards him, holding a bouquet of red flowers.
smiling brightly while you’re getting drenched in the rain, holding the bouquet to your chest as you step into puddles avoiding the rain.
and before he thinks ahead, he walks down the stairs. walking to you with an umbrella over his head, eyes stuck on you and hand holding the picture tightly.
you notice and run faster, breathing heavily. waving at him to which he just stares at you, and your smile falters.
a sinking feeling in your stomach grows as you come closer him, until finally you’re under the same umbrella as him.
“hi,” you breathe out, panting and clutching the bouquet in your wet hands.
he smiles a little, eyes flickering from your eyes to your hair that’s all wet to your lips that make him clutch the umbrella tighter. “hi.”
“i brought this for you too,” you point at the flowers and look up, holding them out towards you.
he says nothing but watches the way the light from behind him shines on your face. a singular ray of light perfectly halving your face, leaving one side bright and the other darker.
“….and i assume your answer is a, no?” he hears you ask, tilting your head just a little.
“i like you.”
“i like you seonghwa.”
“more than just a bodyguard.”
you smile a little, exhaling before nodding. “that’s alright,” you squeak out despite the heavy feeling in your heart.
“i hope you’ll be the perfect man for this job,”
“don’t disappoint me park.”
“i like you seonghwa.”
“…you can..just forget this ever h-“
but before you’re able to finish your sentence and say your prepared pre-break-up speech and him being able to articulate his thoughts. you’re cut off by seonghwa throwing the umbrella to the side and locking his lips with yours at a surprising pace.
you let out a squeal at the suddenness, but cave right in at his soft, plumpy and pillowy lips. your eyes fall shut slowly as a gasp of yours gets hushed by his lips that stay over yours for a second longer and then slowly start to move.
his arms sneak around your torso, pulling you in and the action alone makes your heart pound faster. he holds you impossibly closer, your hands falling flat against his chest as he balances you to him.
he pulls back shortly, resting his forehead on yours while his eyes are shut but his lips break out into a smile. the rain falls down on you two hard, but that’s the least of your worries, neither that or the possible stares you two are getting from the windows or the cctv camera’s.
“are you…”
“yes.” he whispers, opening his eyes to look at yours. “i like you too.”
you chuckle, “i was going to ask if you were dating anyone.”
he snorts, nuzzling his forehead against yours. “why?” pecking at the skin under your eye.
“i don’t like to share.”
he breaks out into a toothy smile, and it tugs at your chest, blinking away the rain on your eyelashes. “fortunately, the perks of working under your dad is that i never dated.”
you nod with a raised eyebrow, “guess that’ll change now, huh?”
he smiles, “i guess so.” and does that thing with his eyebrows, in that teasing singing tone that makes you look away.
when you look up, your eyes stop at his lips and just the sight of them makes you throw your head back and laugh. “what is it?” he asks, lifting his hand from your waist to your upper back.
you then lift your hand to wipe your face with your sleeve before looking at him, and then hook your sleeve to your thumb and point at his lips. “my lipsticks all on you silly.”
and as you’re about to swipe it off, he cuts you off in leaning in closer to kiss you all over again. but this time by deepening the kiss, a ray of butterflies fill your gut, and you wrap your arms around his neck.
the flowers long gone and now you two standing alone in the rain, umbrella on the ground beside seonghwa, flowers beside you and just the night falling on you two.
you feel him smile against your lips when you try to make a point about the flowers, “hey!” but he pays no attention and instead licks at lower lip, and you grant access by opening your mouth while smiling which he gladly takes and slips his tongue in.
your hands that rested on his neck now find playing with his hair, kissing him as passionately and intensely as he does. his hand travel down to behind your thighs, before he slightly lifts you off the ground, the sound of lips smacking against one another echoed slightly, but the rain overpowered it all.
the kiss is rhythmic, slow and stable at the same time. the one that makes your knees wobble and if it weren’t for him holding your waist, you probably- absolutely, would’ve slid down.
when he pulls back, both of you are breathless. panting as a string of spit connects you two, he leans in again and kisses you the same way he did before.
lifting his hand cupping your cheeks and kissing your gently until you whisper his name, and he slowly pulls back, his hair covering his eyes while his swollen lips match yours.
“we can’t let anyone find out about us.” you nod with a determined look.
“especially my dad.”
“especially your dad.”
you chuckle, nodding before your eyes travel behind him and you laugh once again.
“wooyoung’s-“
“watching through the window, isn’t he?” he asks, wrapping his arms around you to pull you in his embrace.
you chuckle, looking behind him to see all of them pressed up against the window, cheeks and bodies all squished to get a look.
“mhm,” you smile, catching wooyoung’s wave with an overly impressed face. “he’s actually waving at you right now.”
“tell him he better run.”
with the way your gala was being prepared, you would’ve thought it was some oscars. from dress’s to suits to decorations to gifts and to invites, it was all a mess.
and so were you and seonghwa.
a mess, trying to hide it all in front and behind your fathers’ sharp eyes.
you were sure you two would get caught in a matter of a few minutes, even seconds but were left utterly surprised when you realized it had been a little over a month since you two began your secret venture.
with holding hands under the tables and behind your backs, to sneakily escaping out at night to get your fair share of dates which one, were short but were worth it. any date or time you spent together only made you get to know him even better than before, which means you were in too deep for him.
it was evident on your face that you were so entranced by seonghwa, from having your elbow on the table and cupping your cheek while watching seonghwa explain something to your dad.
or watch him train the newbies, flipping them over in combat while wooyoung teased about seonghwa getting softer.
seonghwa’s usual ‘angry-young-man’ face was now switched to someone who couldn’t keep a smile off his face when you were in the room, which at times did get him in trouble.
“what’re you smiling at park?”
“n-nothing sir, just remembered a joke.”
which made you look away to hide a laugh, “oh? share it with us too.”
“dad!”
as for seonghwa, the teasing’s he gets every second were more than enough to get his feelings across. from getting shy to hiding his face in your shoulder whenever you tease him about it to doing an absolute 360 when the doors are closed.
so, you don’t know how a game of monopoly could lead into seonghwa hovering on top of you, thankfully, this time at his place.
“you’re in a hurry,” you whisper, raising an eyebrow teasingly to which he smirks at. “can’t guard me from you?”
“very much so,” he whispers, closing the space between his lips and yours and pressing them together gently. “you know sometimes…you talk too much.”
“yeah?” you say against his lips, “then…make me go quiet.”
you feel him smile softly in between the kiss that’s gone from sweet, slow, to faster but sensual. his hands slowly travel to yours, interlocking his fingers with yours he brings your hand above your head.
“i think,” he pulls back, forehead resting on yours and staring directly at you with a fond look. “i like you talking, especially right now.”
you hum playfully and he moves to place his lips on yours, lifting his other hand up to cup your cheek to deepen it. his warm lips melt over yours in an instant and it shoots butterflies in your stomach, squirming under him when he hums against your lips.
he pushes himself on you and your let out a muffled whimper, his tongue licks at your lips and his grasp on your wrist tightens. the sound of kissing echoes the room, and you grow impatient, lifting your head up to his to kiss back quicker, and more intenser.
he catches into that quick and whispers a “easy.” in between the kisses and it makes you fall back, he finds purchase in sucking on your lower lip in particular, that’s so soft that he lightly nibbles on it.
with a slight gasp that leaves you, he takes the chance to slip his tongue in. quickly exploring your mouth and you moan when he uses his teeth to nibble on your lower lip and it has you moaning and lifting your hips against him.
he nibbles and sucks and swirls his tongue over your lips, hands roaming everywhere and swollen, hot, swollen lips pecking every part of your face, neck and shoulders that makes you giggle as he does it repeatedly with a smile.
he sucks and bites and circles his tongue down your neck, sucking at a spot that has you hissing in pleasure. your hand still in his hold above your head while the other wraps around his shoulders.
when you two pull back, both of you are breathing heavily. panting his eyes looks at yours, and then down to your swollen lips. smirking he lays his lips over yours again, softly and it only lasts for a second before he pulls back.
“you think we’ll make it back to your place,” he mumbles lowly, caressing your cheek. “in a few?” his low tone sends a shiver down your spine, and you shudder.
“my plan was to stay in actually.” you whisper back, your fingers pushing his hair back.
his hand that held your hand up, trails down to your waist, his fingertips dance over your clothed skin. you could feel the thudding of your loud heartbeat fastening, driving your knees weak when he looks at you with those sharp, and eyes that grew darker in a split second.
“…as much as i want to,” he whispers, leaning down to peck your cheeks. “we can’t.”
he hears you whine and leans down by your ear, “if we have time later on, and you’re not drunk-“
but you’re quick to shut up him by locking your lips with his, catching him off-guard. lifting yourself up and pushing him up by the shoulders, in a matter of seconds switching positions to seating as his back hits bedframe and you come to straddle his legs.
“in a hurry?” he whispers, a little out of breath and wide eyed, hands itching to hold onto the ends of your dress, it makes you rub your thighs together.
you smirk, “very.” and take his hands to your hips, “didn’t take you for someone who’d be slow.”
“oh yeah?” he asks, bunching your dress up to your waist before he leans down, pressing himself over you and earning a low mewl from you.
“mhm,” you nod, hands lifting unbutton his shirt. “into vanilla?”
he smirks, “i’m into many things,” he lifts you up and you take the chance to wrap your arms around his shoulders, closing in on the distance between you two.
“at once or alone?” you tease.
his fingers fiddle with the strap as of your dress and you unbutton his shirt, and he chucks it away somewhere on the floor. “wait and see.”
with a smile, you run your forefinger down his chest until it reaches the very end, you lean forward peck his lips and then slowly start to grind on him. his hands immediately fly to your hips as he keeps them in one place and gives you a stare, and then returns the kiss.
the glint of darkness in his eyes makes your insides curl as he pushes your dress strap down, hands on your waist and eyes on you he can’t help but throw his head back and groan.
and you can’t help but find it attractive, you’ve been with people before who’d rather suppress their voices than to let them out fully. so, seeing him do so turns you on even more, enough for you to take the initiative and strip yourself off the dress, tossing it somewhere in the room.
his eyes land on your chest before looking at you, his grip on your waist tightening as you smile and push your hair to the side. “fuck,” he swears under his breath, and you hide back a smile and begin to grind against him.
he leans in to kiss you once again and it’s as if he can’t seem to get enough of you, his hands go from your waist to your breast, and he squeeze at them lightly. earning bite on his lips from you, “god damnit y/n,” he mumbles.
stopping everything to just look at you, from the way the little number of light shades over your face. how prettily your hair sits on your shoulders, how smooth your skin look and how beautiful it all feels to him. the stare in your eyes, playfully yet trusting and the bite you do to your lips that drives him crazy.
crazy enough that he pushes you back on the bed, earning a gasp from you when his lips attach to your neck and fingers go straight to your clit.
he smirks at the way you twitch, quickly capturing your lips again. not so sweetly this time as it gets messier, and faster as if he’s hungry along with his hard dick pressing in you, your hips arching to him as you begin to grind. lips never leaving the others, you two kept on going.
smiling and moaning in between the kisses, you pushing his hair back which makes him smile and squeeze your hips.
“seonghwa, p-please.” you say, his mouth moving down to your jaw to your neck and to your shoulders. knowing he’s leaving his mark on your skin and you couldn’t care less if anyone even found out.
you wanted him to mark you, and you made sure you told him that by responding to every single one of his touches. “you’re so pretty…i can’t believe you’re mine.” he whispers, nuzzling into you while whispering sweet nothings and cooing.
the sudden action making you bite your lips and throw your head back, feeling his hands come up to cup your breasts as he squeezes at them.
his lips curl up in a smirk, “you’ve been waiting, haven’t you?” he pauses to take in your face, the way your eyebrows touch and your mouth that parts a little. “to do this.”
“mhm,” you nod as he slowly brings his hand to your center, you back immediately arches to his hand, and he chuckles.
“how long?”
“since the day you became my guard.”
and with that he wastes no time to pull your panties to the side, finally pressing his slim and long fingers to your already wet self. the moment his fingers touch your clit, you shudder, and he gasps breathily.
he uses his middle finger to run a lap up your folds and you breathe in heavily, your hands now flat against his chest as he flattens his palm against your now needy clit.
his tongue pokes out his mouth, eyeing the way your lips let out sighs and how you close your eyes at the way he begins to move his finger in and out of you.
he slowly starts to insert his fingers inside you and your mouth hangs open, he sees your reaction and inserts another finger in. your body jumping in pleasure, and he quickly pecks your lips, “it’s okay.”
he hums when he runs the tip of his index finger over your already wet pussy before plunging it into your heat and you gaped at the intensity, buying your head seonghwa’s chest.
he slowly starts to move as you throw your part your legs open, he pumps in and out of you at a slow speed, then fastens it. breathy moans flee your pretty lips and it has him fastening his pace even faster, his lips remain attached to your neck while his slim and long fingers move at a fast pace.
you arch your back and move your hips along to his rhythm, “like it?” he mumbles, before delivering on an angle that as your entire body arching up.
“y-yes,” you breathe out, eyes shut.
your hand reaches for seonghwa’s free hand and guide him to your breast “y/n-“ his left hand rid to your left breast, kneading it softly while fingering your clit at different speeds and fumbling with that specific bundle of nerves harshly leaving you whimpering his name out loud.
“hm?” he hums, teeth grazing your skin.
“i’m close!” your eyes are shut tight and the heat coiling in your stomach becoming too much for you.
just as you say that he stops. you let out a cry in frustration and he smirks, “easy there ma’am,” you smile at the ‘ma’am’ “we’ve got a few minutes.”
you open your eyes gently to see him staring down at you, admiring you in a way no one has ever. his stare alone makes you look away and he chuckled lowly at that.
he then hovers over you, his chain hitting your face in the way, and he plants fleeing kisses all over your face, neck, and shoulders, you squirm and chuckle until he cups your cheek. “y/n,” he whispers, eyes looking at you longingly as tears pricks at your eyes. “i’m gonna go in, is that okay?”
you smile and pull him closer by the chain he has on, “i’ve been waiting hwa,” you whisper against his lips.
and then he does it again, inhaling sharply as he admires you. fighting the urge to let out a whimper and begins by pecking every part of you, humming with a smile whenever you run your fingers through his hair.
you hear him unbuckle his pants and it has you biting your lips, thought his eyes never leave yours when doing so. choosing to watch the way your face changes expressions, as if remembering it all as if you’d vanish, he slips his briefs off and his cock slaps his stomach.
his fingers hover over your clit before he slowly pushes them in, your head thrown back and your mouth letting out breathy and airy moans of his names that you’re sure his neighbors can probably loud and clear.
“y/n, please be quiet for me.” he warns but with no ill intent, instead it comes off as a whine in your ear as you bite your lips, arching your back to his fingers.
“no,” your whines don’t stop him from using his slim and long fingers to curl up inside you, his face hidden in your neck while he fingered your already sensitive clit from moments prior.
it’s then when he whispers that he’s about to go in and you cry his name out, the one that had his cock hardening.
“fuck, baby.” he lets out a whine when he eyes your state, “you’ve been a brat but i love it all.”
he then lines his tip, that’s already been coated in pearls of precum to your entrance. holding your hand in his while the other stays on your waist, he enters you, both your lips letting out gasps when you feel one another.
he buries his face in your neck as he starts to move, hearing your moans in his ear as you feel yourself stretch out at his length. he starts slow, as if testing the waters and then picks his speed up.
you let out high pitched yet breathy cries for pleasure and hold onto his shoulders, nails digging in his shoulders, body moving against the bed as he grunts and groans and grinds himself into you.
your head falls back, mouth hangs open as he starts to roll his hips into yours and you let out a cry that echoed the room.
“you feel so- god, so good.” you cry out as he continues to go at different speeds, the room filling with his own loud moans, groans, and growls.
“be quiet for me y/n,” he does a particular thrust that has you biting your lips. “can’t have the nei-“
“fuck your neighbors,” you manage to let out in the state you were in, “f-fuck me.”
he whines, the one that his eyebrows touching. “bossy much?” and chuckles cockily.
“f-fuck yes hwa,” your eyes roll back when he hits that certain spot in you, again and again, you let out a cry, throwing your head back on the pillow while releasing moans and whimpers of his name in pleasure.
he whines and groans into you when he feels you clench around him and he pounds into you again, fast, and hard and deep and you let a loud, pleasurable moan as the heat in you becomes unbearable until you both find yourselves coming down from your highs.
he carefully takes himself out of you and you wince at the sensitivity. sweat lines both your bodies, sex filling air and he slumps down on you, wrapping his arms around you with a peck to your forehead, nose and then he’s about to place on your lips that you pull him to you. burying your face in his chest, he chuckles.
“are you okay?” he asks, gently caressing your hair, he pecks your temple. feeling you hold him tighter, you two stay like this for a while, catching your breaths.
when you lift your head to look at him, “i’m impressed.” he looks at you with half lidded eyes and a boyish grin that makes your heart swell.
“already?” he mocks playfully with a scoff. “wait til-“
“-gosh, keep things a surprise, will you?” you groan, and he nods cutely while poking his tongue out.
it goes quiet for a while, just you to now lying beside one another. chests heaving up and down at a slow pace and your face now turning to his, “hey seonghwa.”
you hear him hum in response, “would you..actually never mind.”
“what is it?” he asks, turning his body towards you.
you shake your head, “c’mon, you’ve got me hooked now.”
“no, it’s just��i don’t think you answer it.” you mumble, sighing after that.
“i probably can’t unless you don’t tell me y/n,” he whispers, nudging your cheek with his nose. “what’s got your pretty little head thinking?”
you swallow, close your eyes, and blurt. “would you….go against my father for me?”
the silence that follows makes you smile a little, knowing the question you asked would be met with nothing but disappointment. “i told you, you wouldn’t be able to answer it.”
when you open your eyes, you find him staring at you with a look you can’t quite decipher, “i’m…”
“that’s fine.” you reassure, patting his chest a stiff grin. “you don’t have to say anything.”
“i don’t have an answer…” he inhales sharply, “just yet.”
you smile, nodding before laying down on your back. falling into yet another round of silence until he speaks.
“thoughts on a hot shower?” he offers, caressing your arms.
“yes, please!”
he lifts himself up on his elbows and holds you by your back, “come on lazy,”
you give him a soft grin, eyes threatening to fall into slumber that he shakes you gently. “don’t sleep on me sweetheart, we’ve got places to be.”
when you don’t respond or move, he stands up, hissing at the cold floor under his feet before lifting you off the bed. your eyes fly open, and a gasp leaves your lips, arms immediately wrapping around his shoulders.
with a laugh he walks to his bathroom, pushing the door open with his feet he turns the light on while you watch him with a grin. he then places you on the counter carefully, pecking your nose before stepping aside to grab a few towels.
just as he’s about to though, the bell to his front door rings. your eyes meet at that, almost as if asking each other who it was.
“oh! must be your neighbors.” you tease, and he chucks a towel at your face. “noise complaint perhaps?”
he shakes his head and looks out the bathroom doorframe with a small frown and then looks at you, “go in first, i’ll go see who it is.”
with that he shuts the bathroom door, grabs his pants and shirt, and hurriedly puts them on as the bell rings again. not once, or twice but thrice.
he doesn’t know why he his stomach drops as he walks closer to open the door, thinking it may just be one of the guys coming to get ready at his place.
with his hand on the doorknob, he hears you call out for him, and he twists open the door after unlocking it, expecting wooyoung or hongjoong at his door.
but what he didn’t expect was your dad standing at his door.
“join me for a walk, seonghwa.”
everywhere you look it feels suffocating, the obnoxious colors of gold and silver blinding your vision along with the ample amount of people in this grand hall of yours. everything was overly luxurious to the point it might start to look tacky.
“you seem awfully distracted at your own celebration,” you roll your eyes at the obnoxious voice of kai. “where’s your guard?”
right, seonghwa.
you can’t find him anywhere, in fact this whole week he’s been absent or rushing somewhere.
“that’s who i’m looking for,” you respond, holding your wine red dress up as you walk past crowds giving you smiles with motives behind them.
you’ve been at this gala ever since it started, meeting people you’ve never seen before who offer or beg you to accept their son as your husband in exchange of power and protection.
you’ve successfully dodged every single one of their attempts, looking for seonghwa instead but you can’t find him anywhere. not even outside, not with hongjoong or wooyoung or even beside your dad.
you’ve sent him countless messages that are either not sent or turned green.
there’s an uneasiness beginning to settle in your gut, a worry of sort that you haven’t seen or heard from him ever since this gala started and it’s almost about to end.
you’ve barely touched the champagne in your hand, eyes roaming around countlessly trying to see just where seonghwa was. you walk past the lavish decorations, ranging from holds and silvers and flowers of all sorts to where you saw wooyoung lined up.
you see the way his eyes lighten up when you walk closer to him, his stiff posture faltering. “wooyoung.”
“hi y/- ma’am!” he quickly corrects himself quickly in a panic. “you look lovely.” he points, and you wave him off with a chuckle.
“have you seen seonghwa?”
“i was actually going to ask you the same,” he says, expression changing when he sees the restlessness on your face. “i haven’t seen him since morning, i figured he was with y-“
“-he isn’t,” you interrupt, fingers gripping the glass tighter as you look over your shoulder. your gaze falls straight on your father who’s busy talking to a number of investors with a laugh. “i’ll, i’ll go look don’t worry!”
with that you begin to walk towards your dad, eyes narrowing and forming into glares because you know your dad’s got something to do with this.
your glass finds itself placed on a waiter’s tray as he walks by as you make your way closer to your dad. your heels click against the marble and as you’re stepping closer, the crowd steps back until you’re finally standing in front of him with a smile.
“hi dad,” you sigh, looking beside him to see an elder man giving you a polite smile. “can we talk?”
“of course,” your dad gives the man beside him and a few others a look before turning to you, “excuse me gentleman.”
you father extends his arm to you, and you give him a stare before smiling stiffly, linking your arm with his before walking to a private space just near the end of the hall.
as you’re walking with your dad through the crowd, many give you two smiles and bows of respect. the action alone makes you cringe, and you look away, jaw clenching and unclenching until you two are finally out of everyone’s hair.
“dad,” you close the door behind you, arms crossing over your chest. “where’s hwa?
your father ticks an eyebrow at your mistake, “who’s that?”
you grit your teeth, “you know exactly who, don’t joke around like this.”
if anyone were to walk in right now, they’d be witnessing a stare down between the father-daughter. your eyes imitated his perfectly, the emotionless glare he sends your way with maybe, a little bit of warmth behind it.
“he’s seonghwa for you.”
“you don’t get to decide that dad.” you enunciate, standing tall now. “where is he.”
the man in front of you shrugs, “he’s at the countryside, doing a job for me.”
“oh?” you raise an eyebrow, “but don’t you usually send your bodyguards there?”
“what do you mean?” he narrows his eyes at you, a frown decorating his face now. “he is one of mine-“
“nuh uh,” you stop him, “seonghwa’s my bodyguard now, i get to decide where he goes and doesn’t.”
“in fact, you’d never send anyone of your men away when you know there’s an event!” you take a step forward, “you want the most protection at these things and sending seonghwa? the one with the most experience here away? just like that?”
“there’s certain things he needs to finish.”
“i don’t trust you,” you blurted, making him snap his eyes at you. “you’ve been having way too many emergency meetings with seonghwa…so much so that he’s barely around.”
“and why are you so worried y/n?” he questions, tone as if jabbing at you. “he’s just your bodyguard, am i right?”
you grow quiet at that, “he’s..”
“we have to keep this a secret.”
“he’s…my friend.” you respond, staring at your dad with a frown. “he’s someone i’ve begun to trust more than anyone in this house.”
“you can’t be friends with guards, they’re not on our level.”
you scoff, “have you gone crazy?” you ask, staring at him in disbelief. “what does that even mean!”
“it means you cannot have any relationships with guards,” he announces, staring into your eyes directly before looking away. “bodyguards are neither friends nor families…they’re just low lives.”
“don’t forget you started from there too dad,” you bite back, eyes now forming into an icy glare. “those low lives of yours put their lives on line for you, they get injured and worse, even killed because of you!”
“that is their job.”
“and yours is to respect them!” you yell back, appalled by this sudden change in your dad’s demeanor that you had never seen before.
“you like seonghwa.”
fuck the secret seonghwa, you think.
“i do.” you admit, voice shaky and you take a step closer. “i like one of your low lives, guess that makes me one too, am i right?”
you father says nothing, and you scoff, running a hand down your face frustratedly. “i like seonghwa- in fact…i’m in love with him.”
you see the way that makes him turn his head towards you, jaw clenching and you inhale sharply. “so, it’s either you watch your mouth da-“
“y/n!” his yell echoes the room, and it makes you wince, “i don’t care if you’re in love with him, break it off.”
“you’re my heir, you can’t be around anyone like him.” he retorts, crossing his hands behind his back. “you inherit this mafia whether you like it or not y/n.”
“i-i don’t want to dad.”
“your brother can’t,” he mumbles, and you realize that now, “you don’t have a choice in this, the day i die…everyone will come to kill you.”
you scoff, hands now behind your back. “break everything off with him, it’s what he’d want as well.”
“you don’t know what he wants!” you grit out, your breathing picking its pace up. “you don’t know what anyone wants! you just know what you want and what you want others to do for you.”
“seonghwa does not want anything to do with you,” he says, eyes flickering from yours to the window just to the left of the room. “not anymore.”
“i don’t believe it.” your voice drops to a whisper, “not until i hear it from him.”
with that you turn around, hand hovering over the doorknob as your hand begins to shake a little. you then look over your shoulder, seeing how your father doesn’t even spare you a glance but instead looks out the window with a grim.
with a slight shake of your head, your fingers grasp with the doorknob. twisting the door open, just enough for light to hit your face that you father speaks again, and you wish he hadn’t.
“either break up with seonghwa or get on the flight tomorrow morning.”
your heart sinks to your stomach, a shiver running down your body. a spite of sorts forming in you against your father, who once was all your world, someone you believed every word off.
your ears hear the party outside and at the same time hear the pin drop silence in the room behind you, your eyes fall over the happy faces of the guests, and you look back.
hoping your father would laugh and call it all a joke but all you get is nothing, that alone makes tears form in your eyes and before you let it escalate further, you walk out.
the second you walk out of your house, you burst out into tears. finding a bench just to the far right of your place, you take a seat in the cold alone.
your eyes wander off into the sky, hands wiping the tears streaming down your face uncontrollably. your body then hunches forward, hands holding your head as you shut your eyes.
“break it off with seonghwa.”
“it’s what he’d want.”
“they’re just low lives.”
as sad as it all was, it couldn’t get more beautiful than it already was. with the way the bench was positioned almost directly in front of the big window that shone and showed the bustling party inside.
the pity party your father hosted yearly, this time for you.
“would you go against my father?”
it almost makes you want to laugh, a privileged story of yours where you fall for the forbidden.
it felt like seonghwa was the forbidden fruit you were never allowed near, yet you chose to be nearby. in some sick twisty way, if felt like a way to get back at your father.
you knew if anyone else had found out about this, they’d laugh and call it a ‘sad story’ and then continue on with their lives. seonghwa was the only one who affected you this much, in a way it opened your eyes.
but even on the inside, you knew no one would accept this. this taboo thing they’d call it, having a relationship between the boss and the worker. and as much as everyone else would hate it, you wouldn’t.
you shake your head, pushing your hair back and leaning back on the bench. leaning your face upwards you find yourself staring at the sky, breeze hitting your face and it makes you smile a little.
you stay still for a while and your mind automatically goes through a reel of memories.
“aren’t you supposed to my bodyguard?”
“and aren’t you supposed to be asleep?”
“call me y/n.”
“yes, ma’am.”
“you’re my bestest friend, you know?”
a sigh leaves your lips, and you reach out for your phone, unlocking it and only to be welcomed with a zoomed in photo of seonghwa standing in his bodyguard outfit.
the image alone makes you laugh through your tears, and you dial seonghwa’s number, biting down on your lip you lean back. lifting the phone to your ear, you close your eyes as the ringing echoes in the silence.
your heart rate picks up as the anticipation of hearing seonghwa’s voice increases and it’s as if right on that moment, your body jolts up when you hear his monotone voice.
“hi! this is seonghwa..” and it goes straight to voicemail.
you bite the inside of your lower lip, bringing the phone down slowly and pressing the red button before placing the phone beside you upside down.
“y/n.”
all you can do is hum, gaze looking ahead into nothing with a blank stare. that is until, footsteps walking through the grass make your ears perk up.
if this was an assassination attempt, it would’ve been successful because you did not move from your spot.
“it’s me, your fav- actually second! favorite person.”
“go away kai.”
he smiles, looking around before taking a seat beside you loudly. arm over your shoulders and a reassuring grin on his face, “what’s up!” he beams, looking all over your face.
“you didn’t like the food inside?” he asks, “they had caviar-“
“kai,” you begin, turning your head towards him and he catches the tiredness on your face. “what would you do…”
“i’d go eat fir- ow!” he whines at the slap you gave his arm, “fine, fine, shoot away.”
“what would you do if…if you were given the option to either break up or leave.”
kai smiles, the one with his cheeky dimples and he leans his head back. “i’d fight.” eyes on the sky.
“kai.”
“i mean i would!” he argues, “if that was my last resort, i’d fight for the one i love, you know?”
“as cliche as it sounds, loving someone isn’t a crime. if you love someone, why are you afraid, haven’t you heard?”
“what?”
“people can fight wars just for love,” he looks down at you, lifting his hand to pat your head twice. “look if love was a driving force, i’d have no license.”
he then turns his body towards you, “you want seonghwa more than you thought you did, so what if he’s not your dad’s ideal choice- he’s your choice isn’t he?”
but what if you’re not seonghwa’s choice?
you nod, “…but dad.”
“you know,” he shuffles on his seat, “for a moment, your dad doesn’t exist. what will stop you from him?”
you share a look with kai, swallowing before looking down. “see? no one, kill your da-“ you smack his arm again with a glare and he pokes his tongue out at you.
“seonghwa does not want anything to do with you…not anymore.”
with a sigh you pat his hand, “thanks kai,” standing up and holding your dress up. “if my dad suddenly dies, i know who did it.”
he says nothing but shoots a finger gun at you with a grin, “i’m,” you point at your house. “gonna go inside.”
“already?” he asks, looking behind you. “you don’t wanna say hi to seonghwa?”
“he’s at the countryside.” you mumble, shoulders slumping and eyes squinting at the window behind.
kai stands up, placing his on your shoulders before turning you around. leaning down and then pointing at the front door, “your boyfriends waiting outside silly.”
your eyes grow wide, heartbeat picking up as you look through the iron rods of the gate to make out a silhouette kicking rocks.
and before you know it, you’re running down the path to him. a smile on your lips growing with every step you take towards him, and when you’re finally nearing the gates, you can make his outline out much better.
he’s dressed in a regular suit, but he looks better than anyone at this party. hair slightly disheveled, tie a little loose and hands holding something.
“hwa!” you yell, catching his attention with your voice and the wave of your hand.
once his eyes fall on you running towards him, his lips crack into a smile. hand lifting automatically to wave back, “y/n!”
“hi,” you pant, stopping just before the gates that you now know is locked. “sorry..the door is locked for some reason.” you say in between catching breaths.
“hi y/n,” his voice alone makes you melt, your eyes look at him and they almost tear up. “you look stunning.” he manages to let out, looking at you up and down he wished the door wasn’t dividing you two, so that he could at least hold you.
“why aren’t you inside?”
you smile, “because…i saw you here.”
he returns a soft smile before shoving something in his pocket and walking closer, but since the gates were closed, he could only walk until his chest hit the gates. instead, he extends his hand out for you to take.
which you do, with an excitement because after the talk with your dad and not seeing seonghwa, something in you wanted his reassurance.
“can we talk?”
your smile falters a little, holding his hand. “o-of course.”
“actually, u-uh, at first.” he fishes through his pocket and pulls a small rectangular box out. you’re unable to see it properly due to the streetlight being away from where you stood and the front gates light that kept flickering. “i got this for you.”
he extends the box towards you from the slim space between the iron rods, you reach out for it with a smile and opening it gently. your mouth parts in a gasp, “oh my god, seonghwa…”
he smiles under the light, “do you like it?”
you nod, looking down at the box you held that had a small silver chain in it. a small ruby red bead as it’s pendant, “i love it! are you kidding?!”
“where…how did you get it?”
he rubs the back of his neck, eyes not meeting yours in what you can only is assume is his shyness. “i saw it on my way back here…i was a little late wasn’t i? you’ve bought me plenty of stuff..so it was only right for me to get you something.”
“you didn’t have to,” you mumble, fingers caressing the chain. and then you look up, “what did you want to talk about?”
“ah,” his face drops, eyes meeting the ground.
“i want to talk about us.”
you smile a little, closing the box before giving him your attention. “of course, w…what did you want to talk about?”
“y/n, don’t you think,” he swallows. “we…we should just remain as friends?”
“w-what?” your voice cracks.
his eyes remain glued to the ground, “we shouldn’t be together.”
“it’s dangerous for us to be together.” he mumbles, fingers now wrapping around the rods tighter at the silence. “if anyone found out about us, you could be in danger.”
“did my dad tell you to say all of this?” you ask, feeling your stomach churn. “you don’t have to listen to him seonghwa-“
“no.” he answers, “this is what i think...what we have should’ve never happened in the first place.”
“we are two different people, classes, professions, personalities…everything!”
“why does that matter...” you whisper, “why does it all matter when i don’t care for it, w-why?”
“i’m sorry but,” he looks up, eyes meeting your teary ones and he hears a crack in his voice. “it does matter, when i’m someone you shouldn’t even be friends with, you’re meant for the riches..we aren’t meant to be.”
you feel as if the world has slipped from under your, trying to understand what’s happening around you or what he’s saying because it all sounds unreal.
“i thought that maybe this would last a month,” he whispers, his knuckles growing whiter at the grip he has on. “but it’s only grown ever since.”
“i-i never expected us to go this far, with each day that does by...i can’t help but think we’re not meant to be.” he mumbles, and you feel your heart drop to your stomach, “you’re my boss’s daughter and i’m just worker.”
“seo-“
“i can’t live up to your standards y/n,” your tears that welled up in your eyes are now rolling down your cheeks. “i don’t have a proper house, i don’t even have enough money to keep you happy…”
he looks at you, his own eyes glassy. “i have nothing y/n, i’m nothing.”
“are you done?” you ask, voice just above a whisper and his heart sinks at how frail you sound.
“y/-“
“you’re everything to me.” you whisper, your hand reaching out to hold his, tears streaming down your face. “you’ve been more than anything to me, i don’t care for what you do for living or if you have the money or not, i love you god damnit!”
he clenches his jaw, eyes wide at your words. “you’ve been there for all the times i needed you, you know me more than i know myself! how can you say that..seonghwa please, please don’t listen to my dad.”
he hears you sniffle and looks away, “y/n, please.”
“no seonghwa,” you say, voice shaky and low. “i..i thought you liked me for me.”
“you out of everyone knows how much i hate when my dad controls everything about me,” you inch closer, eyes on him. “so..why? is it because he did everything for you?”
“n-“
“is it because you can’t go against him?”
“i..i,”
“i, what!” you raise your voice, “i don’t believe anything you’re saying!”
“…i like someone else.” he says, voice nothing but a whisper.
“w-what?”
he nods, eyes on the ground. “i like someone else y/n.."
what he says is something you wished he never said, maybe even kept it as a secret. “i don’t trust you.” you bite back, and you wish he’d look you in the eye, just once to say he’s lying. “you’re lying and you know it.”
but instead, he shakes his head, “i’m not lying y/n.” and it makes you swallow the warm, painful lump in your throat.
“you’re not even looking me in the eye,” you whisper, “please don’t do this seonghwa…we’re so good together, you know that too.”
“we were never good together,” he replies, running a hand down his face and you know he’s biting back tears with the way he bites his lips. “i found someone who matches me.”
“someone who isn’t like you.”
you shut your eyes, jaw clenching and unclenching as a pounding headache begins to from in your head with all the tears framing your face.
the wind now feels more colder, it feels as if it’s slapping you in your face. your hair stands moving along it as you listen to his calming voice tell you stuff you’ve never wanted to hear.
“call me y/n.”
“yes ma’am.”
“s-someone who matches me well.”
“i was going to ask if you were dating anyone.”
“why?”
“i don’t like to share.”
“someone quieter, not loud or annoying-“
“…you found me annoying?” you ask, and he inhales sharply at that. “and loud?”
“go on,” you urge, a small smile on your face despite the obvious. “what else did you find me?”
“i-i didn’t mean it like that-“
“what else is she like?” you swallow, “quieter? has more manners? isn’t childish? hates the riches? hates flowers? is the better version of me?”
“she’s everything i’m not, am i right?” you ask, hand falling to your sides. when he doesn’t respond, a bitter smile makes its way in your lips. “…hm, then she must be great.”
“y/n,” he whispers, and you take a step back, the action makes his heartbeat ring in his ears. “i didn-“
“didn’t what?” you ask, face holding no expression. “didn’t want to hurt me?”
when he nods you breathe loudly through your nose, a hand running through your hair frustratedly. “you know dad didn’t want me to be with you…” you begin, “i told him otherwise, he said you never wanted anything to do with me..i said i wanted to hear that from yo-“
“i don’t want anything to do with you.” he whispers, and you hear the way he says that. full of nothing, no emotion or anything.
you smile despite the tears blurring your vision, “right.”
it goes quiet for a while, just the two of you standing in silence. him on the other side of your house while you stand behind the gates, it described you two perfectly.
seonghwa and you were two different people who never stood on the same level, everything your dad said echoed in your mind.
“that’s their job.”
“they’re not on our level.”
you want to yell and scream and cry at him, tell him that’s not the case. to beg him that, that’s not the case.
“d-did you mean everything you said?” you ask, in some way hopefully that he’s lying to you, that he’d tell you the truth.
“everything.” he says.
you nod shakily, exhaling before looking over your shoulder. “every…every date meant nothing?”
“n-nothing.”
“every gift?”
he nods.
“and that red pendant?”
he nods again, though, slower.
“okay,” you say, nodding before turning around. back facing him and it’s one thing you thought you’d never do or be driven to a point where you had to.
you begin to walk away from, leaving him standing behind the gates. eyes on the ground and never lifting up, even if he wanted to. hiding his own emotions he turned around, back pressed against the iron gates.
“take a picture with me then…because i want to have a memory of you.“
“well, it’s not like i’m going anywhere, i’m still here, but! since i’m really nice we’ll take one.”
“a memory,” he scoffs to himself, head leaning back on the gates as he closes his eyes. “a stupid memory.”
five years later.
the day you’d come back was one your father truly looked forward too, with the tearful sending that was laced with hatred and anger. he wished for your safety above all, and on top of the above all, he wished for the safety of everyone inside this house.
those who now scurry around cleaning the house meticulously, mumbling to each other in panic, hurry and almost a fearful turn.
it’s like everyone knew when the announcement of you would echo across this building, a wave of silence would follow.
a silence full of fear.
with the way everything happened years ago, they knew you wouldn’t return the same.
maybe that’s what their fear was.
“i told you to not go in her room!” your father yells, a cough following suit.
“y-yes, sir!”
with a temporary grim on his face, he walks around, hands behind his back as he watches the cleaning, redecorating, rebuilding of his house. in his heart, preparing for you to grace his eyes.
“yunho, mingi,” he turns around to face the new set of guards that were recently employed. “have everyone line up by the entrance tomorrow, put on your best suits as well.”
“we will sir,” they both say in sync, bowing to their boss that is until, mingi, the dark blue haired one pops a question. “but why the suits, sir?”
“my daughter is picky.” your father answers, swallowing a little.
they both bow once again, “we’ll keep that in mind, enjoy your time with miss tonight.”
“oh and,” he stops them, “send seonghwa to my office.”
“we’re very excited to have you back, boss is putting on his best for you!” the driver says, looking in the rear mirror to see you staring out the window. “w-“
“put the partition up.”
he stiffens, swallowing before complying and putting the divider up. isolating you to the backseat and him to the driver side, your eyes meet his as the wall levels up before they move out the window.
coincidentally at the moment where your house was in view, your eyes land on the ever so prestige estate that you left years back. before you used to have a love-hate relationship with this place, where you were sheltered and hidden away from everything.
where you experienced your first and last of everything.
now coming back to it felt, empty but comforting. comforting that you were finally home after years of being lost and thrown into the world you never wanted.
when you left, you were devastated because of everything. you never wanted to come back, never wanted face anyone. but you knew you had to come back, so you became the person you never wanted to become in the first place.
opening the door to your maybach, you step out. your heel clacking against the pavement as you do so, grabbing your bag you shut the door behind to look at your house.
a scoff leaves your lips as you look over it, eyes wandering to every corner until they stop at your balcony. and you remember how you used to sneak out nights through there, falling and hurting yourself one second and the other being bombarded with the dogs.
you then turn around to look at the iron gates and your smile drops.
“d-did you mean everything you said?”
“everything.”
“ma’am, your father’s waiting inside.” you snap back to reality and inhale, “this way.”
with every step you take towards the entrance, your heartbeat increases. mentally preparing yourself to see everything and everyone after years.
but when your eyes land at your living room, they widen in disgust as you step inside your place, seeing the outrageous decorations hanging around at your arrival. “w-what’s going on?” you ask the driver who looked at it all with the same look as you.
“i…i don’t know ma’am,” he stutters, and you shake your head, “but your father,” he points to your right. “this way.”
you nod, following behind him while your eyes look all over. as if they’re trying to find someone while you heart wants you to look away in case you do see that someone, but you’re glad you only see a handful of maids working around.
who, at your appearance gasp and bow. “welcome back ma’am!”
to which you’d respond with a small smile, ducking your head down and following the driver who walked you through your own home. what a day it has come you think.
“he’s sitting here for the day,” you smile and bow at the man who now leaves you alone, standing inside your dad’s outdoor study.
“y/n, my dear, you’re back.”
you hear his raspy voice tickle your ear and it’s been years since you’ve heard him, sure the occasional phone calls were present, but you’d hang up whenever you’d hear anyone else in the background.
“father.” you say, hands in front of you. watching him spin on his swivel chair, dressed in hoodie that says something about your brother’s university. you find your cat nestled just beside him on the cat bed and it makes you smile a little.
“y/n,” he lifts his arms in the air, getting up from his beloved chair and walking towards you with a smile.
you manage to smile a little, retuning his hug half-heartedly before he offers you to take a seat, which you do as if you haven’t been on a flight where you sat for hours straight.
“how have you been?” he asks, pouring you tea from the fine china set you know your mom bought at an auction.
“good.” you keep it short, eyes wandering the sunroom study of his. “did you renovate it?”
“you know your mom and her tendencies,” he replies, sliding you the cup which you quietly take.
“where is she?”
“yearly trip to the maldives with her friends,” you nod, impressed by it slightly, maybe even jealous that she gets vacations while you stay here and deal with your dad.
“how have you been y/n,” he asks again, getting comfortable in his chair as you cross your legs, stirring the tea slightly.
“i already answered that, father.”
he nods, “are you still upset?”
“over what?” you sip, eyes falling over him.
“five y-“
“yes,” you respond quickly, “very, actually.”
you hear him sigh as you sip on the tea more, raising your pinky. “right, well, your rooms the same as before.”
you nod, placing the cup down and facing him. “you’ll be looking over the guards tomorrow.”
“for?”
“to have your own private ones,” he says, coughing a little. “like i did. you’re now what i used to be so it only makes sense for you to have everything now.”
“everything?” you tick an eyebrow, “i have a request father.”
“go on.”
“please stop controlling me from now on,” you mumble, “i am capable enough to make my decisions, in fact, i was since the beginning.”
“as you wish.”
“don’t question my decisions,” you stand up, bowing your head. “and for the guards, i don’t need them.”
“y/n.” ah, there it was, that tone he uses on you when he’s about to scold you. “my last decision in your life is for you to have private guards.”
“the last decision of yours ruined me father,” you say, voice monotone. “and i don’t wish for it to happen again.”
“this decision won’t y/n,” he argues, thought his voice doesn’t raise. “you’re going to have new guards, and that is done. tomorrow meet me at the foyer, everyone will be there.”
everyone.
you scoff, “quit it dad.”
your dad didn’t quit, in fact he pestered you into following him out to the foyer. after him basically dragging you out of your room, which one, you barely got to step a foot in and two, barely got you enough sleep.
“can we hurry this up?” you ask, irritated already with waking up early since your jet lag is still so strong. “i need a few hours to myself.”
“hm,” he says, walking a few steps ahead before pausing and you feel your heartbeat begin to accelerate. “everyone, meet my daughter y/n.”
“it’s lovely meeting you ma’am.”
“i’m to be by your side whenever you go out at all times, it’s nice to meet you ma’am.”
you watch them all bow in unison, and you give a small, awkward smile. ignoring the obvious faces from the past who look at you with shiny eyes, which almost make you crack.
“as you all know," your father announces and you stand behind him, feeling stares burn through you. “my daughter here requires a private unit to be by her at all times, i have seen your progresses over the month and selected a few of you alr-“
“i’ll decide my own guard’s father,” you interrupt him, making the hall get quiet. “at least, let me do that.”
he gives you a quick look before nodding, and you come to stand in front of the two rows of guards. “being my guard isn’t easy.” you mumble, “and if you’re not up for it, you can leave to your daily routines.”
you look around and when no one moves, you smirk. “alright,” you look to your left, extending your hand out to your dad. “their files.”
“here,” he grins, pointing behind him and you see a mountain of them being held by a worker.
just the sight of it gives you a headache, “forget it.” and you walk down the line.
eyes squinty as everyone straightens up, standing tall and feet apart, hands neatly folded behind their back. your heels click against the marble flooring as you walk down the first line, eyeing every single one of them who either display no expression or get taken aback.
“you,” you say out loud, pointing your hand at the guy with blond hair standing at the very end. “come here.”
“sweetheart, he’s a newbie.” your father whispers to you and your eyes keep looking at the blondie walking to you with a shy smile.
“that’s alright dad,” you reply, eyeing the man up and down. “people can learn along the way.”
but there’s a man standing at the far end of the second line, gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw. that’s all too familiar to you, from the black outfit, the sharp undercut and the annoyingly stunning side profile that makes you want to yell.
though he grits his jaw, he catches onto the new you. how you’ve changed, no longer the bright and cheery y/n but a colder, monotone-voiced y/n. and he can’t help but blame himself for it.
“it’s like you’d be protecting him more than he’d be protecting you.” he whispers, eyes forming into glares as he watches the newbie walk towards you, knowing he isn’t half as qualified to be your guard and knowing you’re outright ignoring him.
“name?”
“choi san.”
you nod, “good, you’re hired.” and you turn around, “any objections, father?”
“y/n-“
“i object.”
your eyes immediately find your dads when you hear the new yet familiar voice, “i do too-“
“my decision is made, choi san-“ you look over your shoulder and you make an eye contact with two tall guys at the end. “and you two twin towers at the end, you’re hired.”
“sir, if i m-“
you lift a hand, “ah, my decision is mine.” and you look back at the front. “anything else?”
“i’d like to object.” this time you hear footsteps coming closer and it makes your heart drop to your stomach.
you feel a presence behind you before you hear that increasingly familiar deep voice.
“the three you have chosen, ma’am.” you shut your eyes at the familiar voice filling in your ears. his presence behind you, with that deep, soothing, and calm voice that now sounds rigid and demanding. “won’t be able to guard you, it’s like you’d be protecting the guard more than they would.”
“the new recruit line is barely halfway through basic training ma’am,” god, that ma’am. “i strongly advise picking someone else as their skill sets are nowhere near qualified to be guards right now.”
you raise an eyebrow and slowly open your eyes, seeing everyone in the lines stiffen up. and for the first time, you turn around to look that voice in the eye and dare question. “and you are?”
jaw locked, hair brushed back with one strand falling over his forehead, eye that darkened ever so slightly, hands neatly behind his back. just being in his presence makes your breathing waver but looking directly in his eyes makes you want to cry.
“park seonghwa.”
“seonghwa,”
“seong! hwa!”
“hwa!”
“seong-seong!”
“and who do you advise i pick?” you ask, voice shaky.
“i have almost a decade of experience working under your father and being a protector of your family...” he inhales, patting his chest and you catch the sight of a black band on his ring finger, and it makes you look away. “and a few of those years were as your own bodyguard, ma’am.”
“and?”
“i believe my skills are far better than anyone here, it’ll only be more advantageous to have me as your bodyguard...” he pauses, looking over your face for a second longer. “again.”
“my bodyguard?” you ask, eyebrows shooting to your forehead. “and yet i was still in life threatening positions with you, wasn’t i?”
“i-“
“zip it.” you look behind him, eyes forming into slits. “you three, office now.”
“yes ma’am.”
“y/n, seonghwa was right!” you hum mindlessly, playing with the food on your plate.
“i agree.” you roll your eyes at kai’s appearance, sitting on the big dining table with you and your dad and two cooks at the far end.
you then turn to your left, “you’re suddenly praising him?” you pique, looking down at your dad with a suspicious look. “wasn’t he your low life?”
“you called him a low life!?” kai yells, his plate clacking as he stood up and you wave him off.
your dad grows quiet at that, “…i didn’t mean to say that y/n.”
you stop midway, “really?” you ask, “i don’t trust you.”
“there’s a lot of things i regret doing y/n,” he says, placing his fork and knife down. “but i had reasons for it.”
“and what were they?”
you dad looks at kai and he takes the memo to leave, although, a little late, but he does. leaving you and him alone in the room, him at to your left. just the talk with him has a sinking feeling growing in your stomach, jaw clenching and unclenching before exhaling.
“for you to take over his family, you needed no distractions.” he begins, hands folding in front of him. “and if you kept them, my family would’ve been gone.”
“distractions?” you mock. "sending me to your fucking training academies where they beat the shit out of you? that? that’ll help me take care of this family?”
“as bad as it sounds, it works y/n.” he explains, looking over your face for a few moments and seeing a small scar under your eye and dread washes over him. “i was sent there, it worked for me- i had to send you there.”
“or you’d send your youngest,” you bite back, a slight tick in your jaw. “but i wouldn’t have let that happen. even if i have stated how rotten your business is and how much i hate it, i couldn’t escape it.”
no matter how much you’d want to blame your father for everything, you knew he did it for you. but you still have bitter feelings about the way he did it all, yet you’re unable to tell him. being rasied in this environment, you were bound to do this.
“i still can’t and will not drag him in it,” you refer to your sibling, because he gets scared shitless from the sight of ladybugs. you couldn’t possibly see him fighting for his life. “he’ll never be involved in this business, no one after me will take this place.”
“i will not operate this mafia like you did,” he nods, “if i have the chance to end this, i will and you will not stop me.”
“i won’t.”
“i want to end this.” you mumble, jaw relaxing and eyes falling over your father who looks at you with regret, maybe even shame if you look in too deeply. “i will end this mafia, i want a normal life.”
“you wouldn’t have gone if i never did that y/n..” you scoff.
“i’m sorry for all that y/n,” he mumbles, placing his hand on top of yours. “there is nothing i can say but sorry, if i hadn’t done this, i would’ve lost you all.”
“and to keep you, my family alive.” he taps your hand twice, "i can do anything.”
“ev-“
“even send you there, yes.”
a scoff leaves your lips, “that’s a really shitty excuse, dad.”
he smiles and for the first time since you’ve arrived it feels genuine, “well now you can beat me up for it, pow pow!”
“stop, ew.” you cringe, and he chuckles, drowning down water as you shake your head.
“and what about seonghwa,” he asks the second his glass touches the table.
“nothing about him.” your tone is dismissive, and he picks up on it, growing a little because seeing this side of you, he can’t help but blame himself for that.
but he knows if anyone was to bring your old side back, it’ll only be in the hands of seonghwa. who, he knew, would give him trouble one day.
“you’re not going to meet him or talk to him?” the elder presses further, mind spewing up some way to get you two to talk or exchange a hi’s or hello’s or how was your days.
“no.” you respond, placing the cutlery down and promptly being reminded of that ring on his finger.
“i like someone else.”
“he offered to be your guard again,” you hum, eyes on the plate with an empty expression. “i agree with him, he is qualified and has been your bodyguard before too-“
“dad,” you interrupt, pushing your chair back and tapping your feet on the ground. “you know exactly what happened, what you did and how it went down.”
“but you should talk to him,” he says, eyes following you. “he’s…he’s got a lot to say-“
“i’m not interested in talking to him or having him as my bodyguard again.”
and with that you take your leave, walking out the door with shaky hands and when you begin to walk down the hallway. you abruptly stop at the scene of seonghwa and kai standing in front of you, their heads turning to you in sync.
“y/n.”
“ma’am.”
“i told you my name’s y/n.”
“goodnight.” you mumble, eyes looking everywhere else but the larger man in a suit.
“y/n!” kai calls out, a small smile on his face as he watches you try and escape this situation knowing full well that’s the last thing you’d want.
“how about,” he looks at seonghwa, who’s eyes never leave you even if you don’t look at him. “you two old friends catch up?”
“uh, kai i-i have to leave,” you stated, giving kai a nasty glare. “i’m tired and i need sleep.”
“just ten minutes.”
you freeze at his voice, calm yet eager. “can we talk just for ten minutes?”
kai gives you an encouraging smile and you turn to him, stopping when your gazes meet.
his eyes still looked the same, wide, shiny, and endearing. the ones that still made you want to run in his arms, stare into for hours while he holds you to his chest and nuzzles into you.
“i..i don’t have time right now,” you answer, looking at kai tight smile. “tomorrow, let’s do that tomorrow.
you knew you shouldn’t have come back because all you see is seonghwa everywhere, you had hoped he quit his job, so you didn’t have to face him, and he didn’t have to work under your dad.
every time you walk down a hallway, you’re always greeted with him walking past you. and it reminds you of all the times you had been with him, whether it be chasing him down hallways or to walk behind him whining something about the defense lesson.
at that time, you would’ve never thought any of this could be possible, he didn’t think it would be either.
he didn’t think not seeing you every day for the past five years would hurt him as much as it did, or how not seeing or hearing you would become a routine he’d have to force himself to fit in.
so, when he was called in by your father in his office, the first thing he remembers hearing is. “you better up your trainings seonghwa.”
and he knew you were returning.
as happy and overjoyed he was to see you, he was equally desperate to tell you the truth. but he knew you’d never want to see him, that’s what terrified him. to become nothing but a memory to you, a memory who never got to explain itself.
So, he interrupted your hiring procedure or whatever that was, outing himself as the right person to guard you for as long as he can. after all, he was meant to be your right-hand man at all times.
not only did he do that so that you’d look at him in the eye or speak to him or reject his duties, but he did it because he couldn’t imagine anyone else besides him to stand by you.
and maybe get a chance to explain himself, but all he’s got his avoided stares, small talks, dismissing him and pretending he doesn’t exist.
as much as it breaks him, he knows he deserves it. all the times you’ve ignored him, he can’t be upset because at least, you’re there, at least, you’re in front of his eyes.
but maybe his hopes of reconciling with you won’t come true since you’ve dismissed any of his advances of him doing his duty or having a civil conversation with him.
“yunho, where’s the car?” you ask with a raised eyebrow, tapping your feet on the pavement outside your house.
“i-i, it should be here ma’am!”
“we’ve been waiting for half an hour, jeong yunho.” you grit, “i have places to be and you had one job to do, right?”
yunho bows down quickly, “i’m so sorry, this all is new to me so i got the wrong car-“
but he’s interrupted by the loud honking of a black range rover pulling into the roundabout before he can explain himself, catching you off-guard. “is that the one you got?” you ask, eyes on the car that comes to stop in front of you.
“n-no, ma’am.”
and before you’re about to respond, the front door to the car opens and out comes seonghwa with his dark sunglasses, prim and proper outfit, and a smile you’ve missed.
“the car, ma’am.” he says with a bow of his head, and you swallow, giving yunho a look who only returns a small smile.
“i’ll take the other one,” you say, taking a few steps away from the two but only to be stopped by seonghwa’s loud voice.
“ma’am, please.” your grip your bag tighter at that. “you’ll be late for your meeting, please take the car.”
he watched your back turn to him and swallowed, head down and hands behind his back. “i’ll let yunho driv-“
“i hope you know the address.” he hears you say, walking past him and he pauses for a second. eyes blinking repeatedly at what he heard that is until yunho pats his chest with a cheeky smile and a wink.
“i-i do!”
when you told seonghwa you’d sit down and have a talk with him, you didn’t expect yourself to be this nervous to be in his presence. it felt as if every emotion you had felt in the past five years hit you like a truck.
with the constant messages from kai encouraging you by sending emojis and memes and gifs that only made you want to hide from seonghwa.
So, standing outside the door to where he stood made butterflies sprout in your stomach, it felt as if you were seeing him again for the first time.
your hand on the doorknob stays still for a while before you inhale and twist it, opening the door and immediately you’re faced with seonghwa standing at the far side of the room, back facing the door while he looks out the balcony.
you swallow before entering, closing the door behind before making your way towards him. and it’s as if your memory became a film, it played out the moments you had with him.
“i’m park seonghwa, your new bodyguard from now on. i’m to be by your side whenever you go out at all times, it’s nice to meet you ma’am.”
“my names y/n not ma’am!”
“you know they should keep you in museums.”
“you’re cute.”
“you’re so pretty…i can’t believe you’re mine.”
“i like someone els-“
“y/n.”
you snap out of your thoughts, gaze falling on him with a soft smile. “seonghwa.”
his lips pull into a smile, and he gestures for you to take a seat at the couch set in front of him, you nod and take a seat. he follows suit and sits opposite you.
for the first few minutes, none of you know what to say. you’re looking everywhere but him but he’s looking at you as if you’re the only person to ever walk this earth.
he looks at you with fond stare, one that studies you with a soft look. he fiddles with his fingers and inhales before finally speaking. “h-how are you?”
your heart skips a beat, “good.”
“it’s raining,” he points, and you nod. “your favoutite.”
“i hate the rain.” you respond, and he stops.
“b-but you loved rain?”
you grit your jaw, “i loved a lot of things.” you answer, alluding to the past.
“i’m sorry.” he says right after, head down and eyes shut. “i’ve been wanting to apologize for everything that happened.”
“for what?” you ask, obviously knowing exactly what happened but you want him to say it to you.
he lifts his head up a little and you spot the way the glint in his eyes change for a split second, embarrassment or even maybe even shame but definitely remorse.
“i found someone who matches me.”
“someone who isn’t like you.”
“for dumping me?” you ask, voice shaky and eyes slightly teary. “or saying all of that with no thought of how it’ll affect me?”
“someone quieter, not loud or annoying-“
“…you found me annoying? and loud?”
“i..” he begins, hands curling into fists as he inhales and exhales. “i want to apologize for pushing you away the way i did, i..i didn’t mean anything i said that day y/n please trust me-“
“you weren’t held on gunpoint seonghwa,” you whisper, “you could’ve not said anything.”
“i was told to break it off with you.” he swallows, and you look down. “so that you’d leave.”
he continues, “when…when you were at my place, your dad had come to meet me and i never told you about it.”
“join me for a walk, seonghwa.”
“y-yes sir.” he says, looking over his shoulder and then on the ground before his eyes widen at the sight of your shoes beside his.
nevertheless, he follows your father outside his complex. following the shorter man who’s stride rivaled power, someone who he always respected above anyone else.
“do you like my daughter, seonghwa?”
his head snaps up, “what?”
“you heard me,” his boss says, “are you dating her?“
when he gave no response, your father already knew. with the way his men are everywhere, this would’ve never slipped past him. how could it? you two went out to places every week with each other, in areas where only sketchy people would be found. it’s no wonder he knows.
“i’m extremely sorry sir,” he says, “y-you can fire me or cut my hands like you said..but i do like your daughter, quite a lot sir.”
“how much should i pay you to break it off then?”
his lips part in surprise, “s-sir?”
“a million or a two? or a blank check?”
“i..i’m sorry but i can’t accept any of that sir.” he replies, a frown on his face that he can’t hide. “you’ve known me since i was a child, i’m not attached to money like that— i have never been.”
“i have always trusted and respected your decisions but…as much as i hate to disrespect you..” he says, “i will not break the relationship i have with your daughter, sir.”
“i will fire you.”
he then stands tall, “then please do so.”
“yet you still did it.” he hears you whisper, and he swears he heard a crack of his heart. "you still followed him; you couldn’t go against him no matter seonghwa!“
“tell her you want nothing to do with her, seonghwa.” he says. “that’s the only way she’d leave.”
“sir, that’s-“
“i know, but i have no option.” He looks down, “i can’t let her fall behind because of you.”
“i wanted you to!” you burst out, catching him by surprise. “i thought at least you’d be on my side! we could’ve done it together; we could’ve gone against him together!”
you then stand up, running a hand down your face irritatedly. “gosh this is so stupid, it wasn’t even real right?” you ask, glancing at his hunched figure and your eyes go straight to his hands and spit that ring. “i wanted it to be so real, because i loved you seonghwa.”
“it was a silly little fling,” you whisper, “right? where we just hide behind the doors and do our thing and then break it off because you found someone else!”
you nod, “right, that’s what it was…but i loved you..and you didn’t, and that’s what hurt me the most.”
“y/n…”
“call me ma’am.” you whisper, nodding to yourself and taking a few steps back.
“i didn’t care that you called me loud or annoying.. or the class difference between us.” he lifts his head up, seeing you take slow steps back away from him and for a second it hits him. “i wanted you to be with me..despite what my father had told you.”
“i knew he’d come to ask you all of this,” he hears you say, “which is why i kept telling you to not listen to him, to maybe..just maybe go against him for once and break your good boy image.”
“i just wanted to have you.”
it hits him that he’s about to lose you again, for the second time.
and it feels so real that his heart drops when you turn your back to him.
“i quit.”
you stop, your sniffles ringing the room as you use the back of your hand to wipe your tears away.
“the next day after we split,” you shut your eyes, “i quit working under your dad, in fact, me, hongjoong, yeosang and wooyoung all did.”
“what is this seonghwa?”
“my resignation, sir.” he announced, bowing at his waist. “it’s been a pleasure working for you but it’s time i quit.“
“i couldn’t live like that,” he mumbles, rising to his feet and taking a few steps closer to you. Eyes softening and heart sinking. “so right after i quit, i went to look for you.”
“but i left that same night.”
“but you left.”
“i didn’t know until your dad told me, how you were sent away for god knows how long.” he whispers, voice cracking and you hear him sniffle. “and i didn’t know when you’d come back…how you’d be like or if you’d even want to look at me.”
“if you quit working, why are you still here?” you ask, heart beating fast and brain spiralling.
“..because i was told you’ll be coming back.” his whispers tug at your heart, “and i couldn’t afford to miss it. i couldn’t let someone else take my spot.”
“i spent the last five years, trying to reach out to you through mails but i didn’t know your address.” he explains, “i looked for your number but you changed it, i kept looking and looking but then i realized wherever you were, you’d be safer there than here.”
“i wanted you to be safe at the end of the day,” he takes a few steps closer until his front hits your back. “even if it meant breaking up with you.”
“because i loved you,” he says, voice a whisper but a gentle one. his hand slowly reaches for yours from the back, “..and have for the past five years and still counting.”
“you may have said it first,” he holds your hand gently, his larger palm fitting with yours perfectly. “but i wish i did, so at least you wouldn’t hate me.”
“i don’t hate you,” you sigh.
“but what’s the point of it all now?” you ask, turning around to look at his tear-stained face. you reach out for his hand and lift it up beside your face, pointing at his finger. “you’re already married.”
“all of this..” you shake his hand all while he stares at you with wide eyes, “it doesn’t matter anymore.”
he shakes his head, “it does y/n, you’re m-“
“are you going to cheat on your wife now?” you ask, eyes blown wide despite the tears welling up in them. “you’re married and yet you’re here professing your love for me while she wai-“
“-y/n.”
“no!” you stop him, letting go of his hand to take a step back. “are you really go-“
“y/n,” he stammers, trying to hold onto your escaping hand. “y/n, y/n, listen to me-“
“i’m not going to do this seonghwa,” you stumble back, hands in the air and eyes on the ground.
but before you have the chance to take another step back or say anything else. his hand reaches out to grab you by the wrist, abruptly pulling you to him.
a squeak leaves your lips when you’re jerked forward, your face meeting his chest and his hands wrapping around your waist, face buried in your neck.
“i’m not married,” he whispers, and your hands fall to your sides, a tired sigh leaves you, closing your eyes and burying yourself in his chest.
“what about that ring then?” you ask, voice dropping to lower octave.
he smiles and you can hear it, “you don’t remember when we bought matching rings at that diner?”
your face drops at that memory, “you still- that’s that?!” he nods and holds you closer.
“i had it on the past five years,” he mumbles, tapping your back twice with a smile that almost heals you.
“you’re crazy.”
he hums, and it’s one of those low and deep ones. “says you.”
his perfume wafts in your nose and for a second you find yourself losing in him. having have finally held him after years and feeling the comfort you missed, your hands lift to wrap them around his waist.
“you once asked me if i would go against your father,” he mumbles, “it took me a while to answer you but, yes, I can.”
“i never was, no one existed that i could match with better than you.” his deep low voice that causes your stomach to swoop.
“what about the one you told me about years back?” you mumble, pulling back to hold his stare.
“he shakes his head, and you slap his chest with a frown, “you lied over that too?!”
“i’m sorry!” he’s quick to say, worry written all over his face.
but before he continues the door the room bursts open, making the two of you jump and snap your heads back with wide eyes.
“t-that was us! all of it!” wooyoung yells, hands in the air while yeosang holds him back.
“he’s right!” hongjoong screams from the back, hands curled into fists as if ready to fight someone. “we did it for him! don’t blame him!”
“sorry i was watching a show and the inspo hit!”
“y-you guys are here too?!” you say out loud, turning around fully to spot them properly.
it feels like a deja vu, from the very first time you met them to now.
how all of them are still the same, though a little older and definitely not working under your father. more free and smiley and loud and chaotic than before.
seonghwa’s hands leave your waist and he comes to stand by you, one hand sticking in his pocket while his gaze flickers between you and the three standing up front.
a soft smile on his lips before he looks at the trio in front of him, shaking his head and sheepishly coming to hold your hand in his. caressing the top of it with his thumb gently, the action making you look at him.
“i hate you,” you whisper but the smile on your face says the opposite.
“hey, you all.” seonghwa yells from beside you, head noticing them to turn around and look away. it’s not an action they get at first, but when they do their eyes widen and lift up their thumbs.
“what wh-“
“wooyoung.”
and when they do, seonghwa spins you to him and locks his lips with yours immediately. surprising you and muffling your gasp with his lips, arms snaking around you, and he holds you impossibly close to him. as if you’d vanish in thin air.
your hands fly from your sides to his face, cupping his softer cheeks and smiling against the kiss all while your eyes drop fat tears, he can’t help but chuckle at in between the kiss. whispering ‘i’m sorry’s’ between the kiss while you nodded.
he pulls back to leans his forehead on yours, staring at you with a look that made you look away. “do you still hate me?”
you nod as he wipes the water around your eyes. “maybe a little less than two minutes ago.”
he ticks an eyebrow up, “oh?”
“mhm,” you smile.
he leans closer so that the tips of your noses touch. "how about now?”
“a point five difference maybe?” he smirks.
“can we look now?”
“look where?”
you and seonghwa never pushed each other so fast at that new voice joining all of you, you recognize it as your fathers, and he recognizes it as terror.
“s-sir!”
“dad!”
“good? morning?” he says, face twisted in confusion as every single one of you try to find the words to speak.
"it’s actually nighttime sir,” wooyoung informs, “so, you should say good night.”
you bite a laugh back at the way your dad frowns and how wooyoung immediately gets on his knees to apologize.
and you find yourself leaning on seonghwa, linking your arm with his and he can’t help but break out into a wide smile. his heart fluttering at the sight of it all, you beside him and wooyoung getting disciplined.
and then your dad turns to you two, before you’d move away from seonghwa but now you stay. keeping the stare with your dad who looks at the way you two stood with a small smile, “y/n, hasn’t seonghwa told you yet?”
your eyebrows pull together at that, “tell me what?” looking at seonghwa.
“ah, right.”
at that, seonghwa let’s go of your hand. stepping back and standing tall, a small smirk on his face before he bends at his waist to bow at you.
“i’m park seonghwa, your new bodyguard,” he looks up and winks, “it’s nice to be back.”
taglist : @hybed ;; @idiomaticpunk ;; @marsophilia ;;@seonghwanotes ;; @hwazoned ;; @xirenex ;; @bestboiericsohn ;; @yunhosleftpinky ;; @pshwaa ;; @diorwoo ;; @in-san-ity ;; @lurniere ;; @cupcakes-n-coffee ;; @tohokuu ;; @cityhrj ;; @serialee ;; @hhj-00 ;; @rielleluvs ;; @todorokiskitten ;; @talkbykhalid ;; @treasure-hwa ;; @atinyteez ;; @luvhaos ;; @thiccseokmin ;; @dreamycomets ;; @vitaminkel-c ;; @rdiamond2727 ;; @ot7girl18 ;; @sanshineeeeee ;; @enivivs ;; @littleninja97 ;; @takoyakibinnie ;; @hwaist ;; @sweetteez ;; @rainteez02 ;; @jeongwangjessmina ;; @hongism ;; @atozfic ;; @astrojoong ;; @woahhwa
unable to tag : @tiny-verse-writes ;; @kamikazemission ;; @mistateez ;; @utopiakys @etherealbyeol ;; @banana-binbin ;; @lynnnnnnnnnnnnnnnns ;; @lolalee24 ;; @meowsannie ;; @h3h3tm0n ;; @sxnhwajoong
#im telling u shinestar era strong#seonghwa#park seonghwa#ateez fics#ateez#seonghwa fics#ateez seonghwa#ateez smut#seonghwa fluff#seonghwa smut#seonghwa angst#seonghwa x reader#ateez scenarios#ateez ff#ateez au#ateez imagines#ateez bodyguard au#seonghwa bodyguard au#seonghwa mafia#ateez oneshot#baekhvuns works
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I read your last Yandere!Ken headcanons...so I wanted to ask you if you would ever write smut for Yandere!Ken?
I Love You Like a Doll
[God, I hope this is good... Warning, I haven't had much experience with Smut]
Yandere! Ryan! Ken x Fem! Reader
Word Count: 1,674
Tw: Smut/Nsfw, Strap-on/Sex Toy, Human! Reader, Kidnapped! Reader, Slight Panic Attack, Loss of Virginity, Porn W/ Plot, Foreplay, Restraints, Dub-Con, Crying
🔞18+ Content due to dark and adult themes. Read at your own risk
He wanted it so bad. He didn't really have the parts to do it, but he learned that this 'love-making' thing is what people do when they love each other. He loves you and he wants to show it to you.
He looked at the toy, confused. It was supposedly a plastic version of human male genitals. There was a belt-like rope attached to it, that he could wrap around his waist and then there was fabric that would cover where his dick would have been. The dildo was attached to it.
It was strange to Ken. He had never seen anything like it. Was this what you liked? He thought it was strange, but he was in no place to judge you.
Speaking of you, he needed to get you food. That was also something he didn't understand about your kind. You needed this substance to survive and he didn't understand it. But because of this, he made it where food was more accessible in Kendom, but it only benifited you. No one else needed the food.
He placed the strap down, before grabbing a plate filled with small snack foods. He leaned on the door of the room you were being held in. He smiled himself when seeing you still tied up to the bed.
You saw the male and struggle against the restraints, before groaning and giving up. He closes the door and goes to your side while setting down the food. He caresses your face, moving some lose strands out of your face.
There were tears streaming down your face and your eyes were swollen and red. If there wasn't a gag in your mouth, you would have been screaming at him.
"If you promise not to scream, I'll remove the gag." He tells you, tilting his head.
You quickly nod, wanting to get the thick ball out of your mouth. When he takes it out, you take a deep breath, greedy for oxygen, since you were deprived of it. He picks up a cracker, examining it, before putting it near your mouth.
"Open."
You did as he said, hoping that maybe he'll let you go if he thinks you're accepting him.
"I was thinking of trying something..."
Your eyes widened, confused. Your mind was racing with thoughts and concerns on what he could possibly be talking about. His mind was corrupt and destroyed, so you didn't know where he was going with this.
"I was hoping you'd let me. I mean," He straightens up, almost as if he realized he was coming off more submissive, "Of course you'll let me. Why would you deny me? I deserve it."
You looked at him like he was crazy, which he was, annoyed by his statement. You almost wondered what he was like before, if this was him at his worse. How could he have fallen so far off?
"And if it goes well, I might consider letting you out of this room."
Your eyes widen in hope and excitement. You should have been more cautious... You should have known better.
He smiles down at you, "Well, I'm glad you're so open."
"What is it that you want me to do?"
He taps his chin, almost as if he was debating telling you. You frowned, tugging harder on the restraints.
"Wouldn't it be more fun if I showed you?"
Your eyebrows furrowed together, your heartbeat picking up. Your amygdala was sending glutamate into other parts of your brain, causing your body to freeze up. It felt like you were being ambushed by enormous tides of water that was quickly drowning you.
You hear the door click as he leaves, causing you to come back down to Earth- Wait, where you even still on Earth? Honestly, you didn't really know. Though, it didn't take long before Ken came back and he was holding something behind his back.
He stands at the end of the bed, before kneeling on it. The divot of his weight feels strange, when your body goes down with it. You watch him carefully, still unsure of his intents.
He finally pulls the thing out from his back. You gasp when seeing the long, thick, dildo strapped to a wrap. You wondered where he even got ahold of such a thing. As far as you knew, Ken wasn't even really human like you were. He had the body of a doll.
"Is it too big?" He asked, genuinely concerned when seeing the fear on your face. "I heard 7 inches was average."
You shook your head. You had never taken anything that big inside you. Granted, you had never taken anything inside, but it was so much bigger than anything you'd ever seen. It was thick and veiny and made you wonder why someone would put that much detail into a toy.
You can hear him unbuckle his belt and take off his pants. You avoided eye contact as he attached the strap to his waist.
"Honestly, Y/n... I don't know what I'm doing."
You looked up at him, as he struggled with your pants.
"I want to do this right," He says it as if he's trying not to cry. He wants to please you. He wants to make you happy. He wants you to love him.
You pull on your arms and he looks up at you when hearing the headboard shake.
"Right, you're still tied up." He hums, "If you promise not to fight me, I'll untie you."
You weren't stupid. If you had the ability to fight off Ken, you wouldn't be here. "Okay. Please untie me, Ken."
He blushes at your begging, before going up to untie you while avoiding eye contact. You rub your wrists, red marks imprinted on them. You groan, before looking up at Ken. He was towering over you, seemingly loss and confused on what he was supposed to do.
"None of you have genitals right?"
He looks at you, "No."
"So you've never done this?"
"No."
"Me either."
He smiles, happy that you had never been this vulnerable with anyone. Granted, he had kidnapped you and he didn't deserve you, but he didn't care. He had you now, and that's all that mattered. He's willing to learn whatever he has to, so he can please you.
He pushed his hands through your folds, playing with it. He had never seen it before, so he was curious. You bit your lip, trying to contain yourself. He wasn't doing anything special, so you felt you shouldn't give him your moans. He pushed his fingers towards your clit, rubbing the hood, before pulling it back and flicking your clit, causing you to lightly squeal.
It was cute. He had never heard a sound like that before. How could he live without it now having had heard it? He kept 2 fingers on your clit, lightly rubbing it, while his other hand lightly pushed through your pussy. He pulled back your labia minora, lightly licking where his fingers had once been.
A loud moan erupted from your throat when feeling his wet tongue. He smirked against you, before squeezing his tongue inside of your wet hole. His fingers play with the outside of your pussy, which makes you wonder if he lied to you.
He pulls away, causing you to frown, before you shook your head. This man had kidnapped you, you shouldn't be liking it! But it was so good. And he was so cute. And he really liked you, more than any man or woman has ever liked you.
He kneels over you, positioning the strap head over your pussy. This was really happening and you were letting it. You grabbed his shoulders, your nails digging into his perfect skin as he slowly pushed inside of you. He groaned, the strange sensation of pain foreign to him. He bottoms out and you sigh in relief.
You look up at him, but his eyes were closed, as if he couldn't look at you. He didn't want you to look into his eyes and see all of his emotions. So many feelings were rushing through him and they were all very new to him. What was this blooming feeling in his stomach? It felt... well, it felt nice.
You smacked his shoulder, causing him to open his eyes. "Move, please."
He chuckled at your submission. If he knew this is what he needed for you to love him, he would of dont it a long time ago. He pulled out, leaving only the tip, before shoving himself back in. You nearly scream at the intrusion, not expecting it. You pull yourself towards him, chest to chest.
He slowly began to thrust, finding a rhythm as you move along with him. He admired the way your eyes rolled back and drool rolled down your cheek. You were out of it. Almost like a doll.
The second the thought came into his head, he picked up his pace. You did remind him of a doll, even though you were anything but. Your moans became louder as your walls tightened around the rubber dildo. You could feel the tight squeeze and every vein imprinted on the toy.
It was slushing inside of you and the wet sounds of the balls smacking against your ass echoed in the small room. Your words became incomprehensible as your body tightened and you could feel a tight knot in your stomach.
And then, Ken hit you with one last thrust and that tight knot bursted, causing you to loudly moan Ken's name, catching him by surprise, as your cum flushed out like a waterfall. You had never came like that on your own and it was hot.
Though, you did not feel hot. You were sticky and sweaty and your hair was sticking to your face. You must have looked terrible and smelled like sex and body odor. Though, Ken seemed to think otherwise, because he grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him.
"You are the most beautiful woman in the world and I love you."
#yandere ken x reader#ken#ryan ken#ryan gosling#yandere ken#ken x reader#ken barbie#yandere barbie ken#yandere barbie ken x reader#yandere barbie#yandere ryan ken x reader#the barbie movie
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Threesome with Loid and Yor
Pairing: Loid Forger, Yor Briar-Forger x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, threesome, cunnilingus, praise, doggie style, hair-pulling
A/N: I'm still down bad for these two.
Loid only meant to marry Yor, and she thought it would only be him who her heart would belong to. Neither counted on falling for you. You were caught in-between them, quite literally in this case, Loid behind you, panting and grunting, and Yor in front of you, gasping and whimpering.
There's no where else you would rather be then here. With your pussy being fuck by a hard, skilled cock and your tongue making big circles on Yor's clit.
"Go- nngh, ah, again, lick it again. It feels so- mmmm-!" Yor could hardly speak from how good she felt. She was the most shy of you three but also the most vocal in bed. Hence why you needed to get some better insolation.
Loid huffed out a laugh as he cupped Yor's cheek from behind you, his hips never slowing down, "The both of you are so beautiful. How did I ever get so lucky? To have a pretty pussy to sink balls deep into, while watching one of the sexiest women in the world be eaten out. I must have done something right in my life."
"Loid! You're such a-" It was bothersome how effortlessly he could go from being the sweetest husband to you both to putting any escort to shame with his sultry words. "Pervert." You moaned against Yor's pussy as you bent your neck to drink up her horny juices. "Sweetest fucking thing... I've ever tasted."
You weren't trying to fluster Yor, it happened on it's own. You felt her nails digging into your scalp, you heard her moans being kissed against Loid's hand, you knew she was close to coming.
"Squeezing so fucking hard. Is Yor getting you horny? Or is it knowing that she'll come on your tongue any second now. Right... now!" Yor moaned both your and Loid's names while she rode her orgasm out on your face, making you drunk on her taste, more then you already were. Loid leaned into her and she to him, kissing passionately while his cock was still inside your pussy, beginning to tighten faster and faster.
"Darling, make her come, please, I want to see it." Yor was always an advocate for your and Loid's pleasure, a little shy to admit it but she loved watching either of you come. Loid obliged of course, grabbing your hips and rutting into you from behind, pushing your face against Yor's cunt again. "Oh! Still sensitive!" But she didn't push you away, she intertwined her fingers with yours while Loid's hand wrapped around your other hand's wrist and pulled towards him. "Yes, yes, yes come, both of you please!"
With a few more thusts Loid made your head dizzy, the orgasm surprising even you in its intensity. You felt Loid's warm cum spray across your back, a little disappointed but aware of the risk. "Knew you'd both look pretty tonight."
"Speak for yourself, handsome." You looked back at Loid, his hair messy and wild, falling over his forehead. Yor seemed to agree with your statement, finally letting go of your hair and letting you stand up into Loid's hug. She joined you as she pressed her breasts against yours when she kissed you.
"She's right darling, you look very handsome." The both of you chuckled when Loid proceeded to bury his head against your shoulder. You could practically feel him blushing. About time he knew what the two of you felt like around him.
#spy x family#spy x family x reader#sxf#sxf x reader#spy x family fanfiction#spy x family loid#loid forger#spy x family loid x reader#loid x reader#yor briar#yor x reader#loid forger x reader#yor briar x reader#spy x family yor#smutember 2023#smut drabble#x female reader
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(steddie | 1.8k | mature | tags: werewolf!Steve, human!Eddie, domesticity, soft boys being soft, bathing together | @steddielovemonth prompt Love is saving the last bite for them by @acasualcrossfade | Part 2 to Safe Haven | AO3)
It turns out that even their shared body heat and Steve's elevated body temperature are not enough to withstand an extended make-out session out in the snow.
Buck naked.
If he was in his fur it would be fine, but then he couldn't do that to Eddie with his tongue. Or grind in his lap with Eddie's calloused fingers gripping his waist, leaving marks on his flesh.
"You're shivering, Stevie." Eddie says, his big hands rubbing up and down his back and arms to warm him. Steve's wolf purrs at the gesture, as does his human side, for once in complete sync when it comes to his human.
His mate.
Too soon, Harrington. Too soon.
"We should get back inside, warm you up." Eddie adds, moving to sit up, but Steve shakes his head and pushes closer to Eddie, hiding his face at the junction of his neck and shoulder. He doesn't want this moment to end, because what if Eddie changes his mind as soon as Steve lets go of him? Steve can't risk that.
Not now.
Not after losing everything.
Not after just finding Eddie.
Eddie laughs indulgently at his behavior and takes him in his arms again. "You're being ridiculous. Come on, sweetheart, let's go inside. You're still recovering, you can't get sick. Let me make you some breakfast, okay?" And when Steve still makes no move to let Eddie go, Eddie whispers in his ear, "I can still feed you with my hand if you want."
This makes Steve lean back and look at Eddie with big eyes, and Eddie must think it's because Steve is horrified. He hastily backpedals. "I mean, uh, that was... a joke? I don't have to -"
Steve kisses him, partly to cut off his nervous ramblings, mostly because Eddie just offered to feed him. Not the injured wolf he found in the woods, but the human Steve. To continue their routine, to keep Steve so close to him. Eddie may not know what sharing food like this means to his kind, but his inner wolf doesn't care.
It also reminds him that he has brought a gift to his mate. Steve has provided for his mate and he can't wait to show it, even if it means getting out of Eddie's arms and off his lap.
"Come on, I brought you something," Steve says, rising to his feet. It brings Eddie's face to eye level with his cock and Steve would be lying if he said it didn't make him feel smug to see Eddie's eyes widen and his tongue flick out to lick his lips.
"Eddie?" He asks coyly, the grin on his face giving him away. "You comin' or what?"
"Huh?" Eddie asks, sounding dazed before his eyes snap up to Steve's and color rushes up his throat and onto his pale cheeks. "Oh God, yeah, um, I'm comin', yeah, of course I'm comin'," he stutters, scrambling to his feet as well.
Steve turns and leads Eddie to where he left the deer, his hips swaying in a way he knows makes his ass look even better, and he swears he can feel Eddie's eyes on him the whole way.
Eddie's gasp when they finally reach the carcass comes late, proof enough for Steve that Eddie had his mind on something else instead of where they were going.
"Steve, did you...?" Eddie asks, his eyes fixed on the dead deer. Suddenly Steve isn't so sure Eddie would appreciate him doing this because he said he hated the thought of hurting an animal. But they need to eat, and meat is the best way to do that during a winter as long and hard as this one.
"I killed it as quickly and painlessly as I could, I promise, Eddie. I know you didn't want to hurt a living thing, so I did it for you. So you didn't have to."
The silence that follows Steve's statement makes the fear settle heavily in his stomach. What if his mate rejects his offer? What if his mate rejects him?
It would finish the job the hunters couldn't.
"Stevie," Eddie starts and then stops, the anticipation building inside Steve until he's ready to snap, to fall to his knees and beg Eddie. For what he doesn't even know. Forgiveness? Love? Forever?
He's pulled out of his spiraling thoughts by warm arms wrapped around his waist and Eddie's scent enveloping him. "You went to hunt when you're still healing? For me? Just because I said I didn't want to kill?" And when Steve nods, Eddie takes his face between his palms and kisses him.
Deeply. Decisive. Devoted.
Eddie kisses him as if he knows what this means to Steve.
Like he wants it, too.
God, Steve hopes he does.
They keep kissing until another shiver, this time more violent, runs down Steve's body where it's pressed against Eddie's.
"Come on, let's get this inside and I'll make us some breakfast before I deal with this."
"I can help you," Steve insists and Eddie kisses the tip of his nose.
"I know. Later. Right now I need to know that you're not pushing yourself any more than you already have."
And Eddie is right, Steve feels the events of the last few hours catching up with him. The hunt, dragging the heavy carcass back to the cabin, the shift. So he lets Eddie pick up the body and sling it over his shoulder in a display of strength that makes Steve's stomach flutter.
Steve's mate is not only kind and caring, but also strong.
His wolf purrs.
His heart flutters.
His cheeks heat up.
Eddie reaches for Steve's hand, twines their fingers together, and they walk back to the cabin, hand in hand.
Inside, Eddie disposes of the body at the bottom of the stairs to the cellar before making them breakfast, while Steve finds something to wear in Eddie's closet. It smells like Eddie, and Steve's wolf preens at the thought of smelling like Eddie and putting his own scent on Eddie's clothes.
They eat wrapped in a blanket on their mattress, the roaring fire and their shared body heat warming Steve to the core. He runs hot anyway, and Eddie has already stripped down to his underwear under the blanket, claiming it will help Steve warm up faster.
Steve doesn't complain, not if it means he gets to feel Eddie's skin on his own after he follows suit and loses his (Eddie's) shirt as well. Skin on skin, of course, helps him warm up faster after all.
When they're done, they both silently agree to lie down for a while, exhausted from all that has happened. Without having to talk about it, Steve lies down first and Eddie presses himself against his back, his arms wrapping around him and pulling him against Eddie's front. It's the same position they've been sleeping in for weeks.
Only now Steve can feel Eddie's lips against his nape and he can lace their fingers together to press their joined hands against his chest, right over his heart.
It's the safest he's felt since his whole life went up in flames. It's safer than he ever expected to feel again.
As he promised, Steve helps Eddie pull the skin off the dear and cut it up so they can rub it in salt and preserve it. Steve has done this a thousand times at home and knows what he's doing, so after assuring Eddie several times that he feels better after their nap, Eddie takes a big chunk of the fresh meat and goes to work preparing their dinner.
He turns it into a hearty stew with carrots and potatoes and other root vegetables.
By the time Steve is done putting the last of the meat away and cleaning and preparing the skin so they can use it later, he's exhausted again but feels a deep sense of satisfaction.
As the stew cooks on the stove, Eddie joins him to admire his work.
"Wow, Stevie, you did a great job. It probably would have taken me all night. Wayne's usually the one who does this kind of stuff."
Eddie sounds sad when he mentions his uncle and Steve thinks, not for the first time, that something might have happened to him in town. He thinks that soon Eddie will want to go there and check on him, and he will go with him. Even if it terrifies him.
"I heated some water, so how about we let the stew simmer and you go upstairs and take a nice hot bath? You kind of smell like a slaughterhouse."
"Are you saying I stink?" Steve demands in mock offense.
Eddie walks up to him and brings his mouth close to Steve's ear. His hot breath makes Steve shiver as Eddie says, "I'm saying I want to give you a bath if you let me."
It's a losing battle not to run up the stairs to get into the tub.
In the end, Steve convinces Eddie to join him in the small tub. It's a tight fit, but Steve doesn't mind. They clean each other with gentle hands that soon become adventurous.
The smell of their shared pleasure makes Steve's inner wolf roll over with joy, contentment radiating from him. Steve shares the sentiment as he lies in Eddie's arms, sated and happy.
Afterwards, they both change into clean clothes and sit back down at the table to enjoy their dinner.
It's delicious, and soon Steve is finishing his third plate.
Only Eddie's amused chuckle reminds him that Eddie is probably not used to a wolf's appetite. He blushes as he realizes that he has just inhaled the food Eddie has so painstakingly prepared for them like a ravenous animal.
"Oh God," Steve groans in embarrassment and buries his face in his hands.
"Hey, no, don't look like that. I take that as a compliment, Stevie." Eddie assures him as he pulls Steve's hands away from his face so he can look him in the eye. "It makes me very happy to know that you like my food."
Steve gives him a tentative smile and says, "Too bad it's gone," only half joking.
Eddie's answering grin is delighted, dimples carved deep into his cheeks and wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes.
"Oh, but it ain't. I saved you the last bite, baby."
With that, Eddie gets up from the table and walks over to the stove, pulling one last piece of meat out of the pot with his fingers. Turning back to Steve, he walks back to the table, but instead of sitting in his chair, he sits on Steve's lap.
"I promised to feed you, didn't I?" he says, his voice deep and his tone hungry as he lifts the meat right to Steve's lips. He doesn't let go of it immediately when Steve tries to take it from him, but rather pushes his fingers into Steve's mouth so that Steve can lick the remaining sauce off his fingers.
Steve only lets them slip out of his mouth when the last trace of meat and sauce is gone.
"Fuck, I could eat you alive," he says as he stares up at Eddie in awe.
Eddie smirks down at him. "What are you waiting for, big boy? You can always have the last bite of me."
#steddie#steddie fanfiction#werewolf!steve#human!eddie#steve harrington#werewolf steve harrington#stranger things#eddie munson#steddielovemonth#day 11#love is saving the last bite for them#my writing
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# bokuto koutarou - not an idiot
a/n = this is so stupid but it fits bokuto sm i think (i just feel bokuto is stupid with geography for some reason ALSO he would call his s/o pookie unironically) the dumbest one i wrote yet but it was fun to write so who cares fr
summary = bokuto's teammates finally get a chance to meet his girlfriend.
warnings = nothing really
bokuto koutarou could never shut up about you.
it came to a point where even his teammates knew everything about you; your favorite installment of the 'saw' franchise, your favorite order at that cool cafe around the corner, your favorite spots to go to when you need to clear your mind, your favorite desserts and snacks, even your favorite breed of cats. but aside from all that, they were happy their captain finally found someone for himself. somehow it seemed like he was even more energetic and passionate about everything now that he met you, and it was good not only for their volleyball games but also for minimizing the risk of him going into his emo mode.
and yet they never once got a chance to meet you.
it was quite odd for the team; bokuto would talk about you non-stop but never invited you to come watch him practice or play a game? from what they knew, you had been dating him for over three months now, so it seemed strange that the gray haired boy didn't even try to drag you to meet his friends; he wasn't one to be secretive about being in a relationship, so more than anything, it was a bit peculiar.
most of the time, they didn't pay much attention to that, though, thinking that you're probably just shy. so much so, that they didn't seem to notice a curious eye peeking through the slightly opened doors to the gym, curiously scanning the situation inside.
you had no intention of going there that day, but the circumstances made it so that you didn't really have a choice, at least that's what you could get from bokuto's message of 'come here baby it's really incredibly extra urgent' with a few emojis following it. and now that you were finally there, you contemplated whether or not you should enter the gym, the thoughts of whether or not you should interrupt their practice roaming your head.
until you heard bokuto.
"MY LOVE IS FINALLY HERE!"
his voice was high pitched, echoing through the entire gym as he suddenly dropped the ball, running towards the door to open it wider, hence getting the attention of everyone inside. he didn't spare even a second as his arms wrapped tightly around you, his face lighting up as he hid it in the crook of your neck. you could only smile gently, still getting used to how affectionate your boyfriend was as you hugged him back, thumb caressing his arm.
he loosened the hug as you looked up at him, a shy smile on your face as you tilted your head to the side.
"so, koutarou, what was that extra urgent emergency about?" his smile faded a little, its place taken by an awkward expression, the tips of his ears bright red. you couldn't help but giggle at his reaction, the boy avoiding your gaze at all costs.
"i just wanted to see you." he muttered quietly, eyes roaming around the gym, looking everywhere but you. your eyes widened at his statement, your smile disappearing just to be replaced by a more serious expression, brows furrowed as you smacked him in the shoulder. "ow! that hurt, you know."
"i drove my bike for twenty minutes as fast as i could because i thought something happened to you!" suddenly, you seemed to forget all the people around you, your focus solely on bokuto, standing in front of you with the cutest pout on his face (you were close to giving in to him when looking at it, but you decided today's not the day). "ahh, sometimes i forget i'm dating an idiot."
"i'm not an idiot!" the boy exclaimed loudly, hearing his teammates giggle slightly at his words. you looked at him, a grin appearing on your face as you tried your best not to let out a laugh too.
"tell me where surinam is located, then." he gave you a puzzled look, his face resembling that of a sad puppy.
"you're making words up right now."
"am not."
"yes, you are."
his teammates watched the scene in front of them with amusement in their eyes, enjoying the chaos between you two. even the managers seemed to find it entertaining as they stopped the gossip session they had planned for today's practice only to giggle at bokuto and you.
"you want to make me look stupid in front of my teammates." bokuto pouted, his eyes looking resembling those of a cartoon lamb. a chuckle left your mouth, your hand coming up to ruffle his hair as he seemed to melt into your touch.
"you probably already did that yourself many times." you added, smiling gently at him. "i still love you, though."
he seemed to completely ignore your teasing comments at this moment, coming back to his usual self as a big, proud smile appeared on his face, his face leaning in to give you a quick smooch on the cheek.
"obviously, i'm the best after all." he said, straightening up his stance as he looked at you. "i love you too, by the way."
he suddenly turned around, his hand resting on your waist as he faced his teammates, looking as if he was going to start showing you off in a second, a deep breath escaping his lips.
"guys, meet my pookie, the love of my life-"
you could only hide your face in one of your palms as you heard his words, the entire fukurodani volleyball team bursting into tears of laughter.
"you did not just use pookie seriously, right?" you mumbled, head turning towards his as you tried not to crack up too, the sight of bokuto's clueless face in front of you.
"is there something wrong with calling you my pookie?" he asked, and this time you joined on the laughing too, your voice mixing in with the others, face hurting from smiling so much.
"god, i'm definitely dating an idiot."
taglist: @ox1-lovesick @moonswolfie @wyrcan
#tsxkkis#bokuto koutarou#bokuto x reader#bokuto koutarou x reader#fukurodani x reader#bokuto fluff#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fluff
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Does anyone else think this Wilbur thing has been blown way out of proportion? First of all, I am in FULL support of Shelby and am not defending Wilbur. As a victim myself, I sympathize with her story, and I will never discredit her experiences. But this community is going to extremes that make me so fucking uncomfortable.
What people forget is that Wilbur has a record label. He CAN'T say whatever he wants. There’s a reason he made a statement not an apology, why Lovejoy hasn’t said anything, why he never mentioned Shelby by name, why he didn’t apologize- because making promises can get you in legal trouble. One of the first things you learn about car accidents is to not apologize, even if it's your fault, because that will be used against you in court. Admissions can even get you in trouble for things you didn’t do, if the other party decides to push for that. He’s almost certainly not allowed to apologize because his record label can't risk the legal trouble. We can excuse Quackity for making poor statements for the same reason, so why can't we keep that energy here?
Wilbur has always been an unstable man. As a long time fan and someone who heavily relates to YCGMA’s themes of being awful and feeling like you’ll never get better, he struggles with a lot of mental problems. His persona has been built around manic, destructive tendencies and that’s something that’s been a part of his brand for YEARS. He's brought up drugs and alcohol use in the past, and one of his closest friends recently passed away, which certainly only added to things. Mental health isn't an excuse, but it is a REASON. (Listen to Mammalian Sighing Reflex and tell me it doesn’t resemble compilations of artists deteriorating as they lose their sanity)
I don’t understand how anyone can actively want him to kill himself. Or wish that he gets worse. You can’t claim to be an advocate for mental health and helping victims if you don’t want EVERYONE involved getting serious help. Wilbur needs therapy, he needs to atone if either of them want to heal. Nobody has to forgive him, or welcome him back into their life, but he absolutely deserves the chance to fix himself to ensure this doesn’t happen AGAIN.
If you can seriously say that you want him to get worse, and you don’t care about his mental health, then you DON'T care about victims. Leaving a destructive man to rot alone WILL lead to repeat events in the future. As someone with multiple diagnoses for debilitating mental illnesses, when I was at my lowest, I hurt myself. I hurt other people. Mental illness isn’t cute shit you put in your bio. It's terrifying, isolating, exhausting. And if I wasn’t given a chance at therapy and healing, I could have continued hurting people for the rest of my life.
These tweets just confirm none of you actually care about mentally ill people, it's all situational and performative. This is the most clear cry for help I've seen and you're feeding into it. Most of you will never understand what debilitating mental illness is like, how easy it is to hurt people you care about. You can hate him, be pissed, wish he never did it, deplatform him, I AM TOO! But nobody involved would be happy if he killed himself. These are real people, not characters in a soap drama. Actively wishing for him to kill himself is disgusting. If you care at all about Shelby getting closure, Wilbur needs to understand what he did wrong and fix it, so she can move on.
Also the lying I’ve seen is so stupid. The spotify stuff is fake. Anyone who’s a casual fan of Wilbur has known for a long time that’s not his spotify account. It’s a fan account that posts unofficial versions of his songs. So easily debunked and yet people still hold it against him??
Again, I'm in FULL support of Shelby. I fully condemn his actions, and as a victim I'm so proud of her for speaking up. But at the end of the day, we’re people. I'm glad many of you have never had the kind of debilitating downward spiral that leads to you hurting yourself and others, but if you think that makes it okay to wish an unstable man takes his life, then you can’t say you’re a mental health advocate. Take care of yourselves, please think twice about your own morals if you're sitting around hoping fans and creators commit suicide.
If you are one of the people actively waiting for him to kill himself, I pray that you never find yourself hurting others at your lowest, and I pray that people show you the kindness you didn't give to him.
#not a wilbur defense post#but its still important to consider#wilbur#wilbursoot#wilbur soot#shelby#shelby shubble#shubble
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