#fake marriage au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

edenesth · 7 months

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Guarding Hearts

Pairing: bodyguard!Jongho x actress!reader

AU: fake marriage au

Word Count: 15k

Summary: In the glittering world of fame, you're an actress haunted by an obsessive stalker hell-bent on claiming your life. To protect you, your management hires Jongho, a bodyguard, to pose as your fake husband. While danger escalates, so do the sparks between you. As his feelings for you deepen beyond the bounds of professionalism, will he still manage to uphold his role as a dedicated bodyguard?

A/N: Missing Jongho hours are officially open.

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"That's it, we must do something about this."

Seonghwa declared, his voice tinged with frustration and worry. His eyes scanned the surroundings, ever watchful for any sign of danger.

"This can't go on any longer. Your safety is our top priority."

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a dim glow over the bustling streets of Seoul. You stood outside your apartment building, your heart still pounding from the latest terrifying encounter with your relentless stalker. The night air was crisp, a stark contrast to the fear that had gripped you just moments ago.

Seonghwa, your dedicated manager, stood beside you, his brows furrowed in deep concern.

He had been by your side since the beginning of your skyrocketing career, and now, as your fame had reached new heights, so had the dangers that came with it.

You nodded, trembling as you recounted the chilling details of the latest attempt on your life. The stalker's death threats and claims of ownership had escalated beyond terrifying emails and letters. This time, he had boldly attempted to abduct you, coming dangerously close to success.

The fame you had achieved was a double-edged sword.

While it brought you adoration from fans worldwide, it also attracted the attention of those who harboured dangerous obsessions. Your stalker was the most notorious among them, his fixation on you spiralling into madness.

Seonghwa's face hardened with determination as he pulled out his phone, "We need to take drastic measures. We'll bring in the police, but in the meantime, I have another idea."

Your heart raced, anxiety twisting your stomach as you wondered what drastic measures he had in mind.

You had no choice but to trust your manager, the man who had always been there for you. As the city's neon lights flickered in the distance, you braced yourself for this terrifying ordeal, knowing that whatever he had planned was your best chance at escaping the clutches of your stalker.

God, help me. Please let this plan work.

The meeting room's dimly lit interior provided a stark contrast to the chaos that had consumed your life. Seated beside your manager, you stared blankly at the conference table, your hands trembling uncontrollably.

The fear that had taken hold of you since the last kidnap attempt seemed to have permanently etched itself onto your every nerve.

Without a word, Seonghwa noticed your trembling hands and covered them with his own, offering a comforting and grounding touch. His warm, reassuring squeeze provided a small moment of solace in the midst of your turmoil.

"You're not alone in this," He whispered, his eyes filled with empathy, "The label and I are here for you. We're going to do everything in our power to keep you safe."

Forcing a smile to reassure him, you nodded, even though you still had no idea what drastic measures he and the management team had planned to protect you. The uncertainty weighed heavily on your mind, but you didn't want to burden him with your fears. He had been your pillar of strength throughout your career, and you didn't want to add to the immense pressure he was already under.

As the meeting began, Seonghwa and the management team laid out their plan to safeguard your life and reputation. They discussed everything from increasing security personnel to contacting the police, but the most unexpected proposal was yet to come.

Your manager cleared his throat, his gaze steady as he addressed you, "In addition to these security measures, we have another idea that we believe will provide an added layer of protection for you. It's a bold step, but we think it's necessary given the circumstances."

Curiosity mingled with apprehension as you leaned in, eager to hear the details of this mysterious plan.

"We've taken the liberty of hiring a highly trained bodyguard," Seonghwa began, his voice carrying the weight of the decision they had made collectively, "Someone with an impeccable record, renowned for his unwavering commitment to his client's safety."

A hushed tension filled the room as everyone waited with bated breath for him to reveal the identity of this formidable guardian.

Images of a faceless protector, cloaked in secrecy and strength, danced through your mind. The idea of having a dedicated guardian was reassuring, but it was the next part of Seonghwa's revelation that would change everything.

With an air of solemnity, he continued, "This bodyguard will be by your side at all times, ensuring your safety and keeping a close watch on any potential threats."

A bodyguard sounded reasonable, even expected, given the circumstances, but the bombshell that followed caught you completely off guard.

"He will be your fake husband."

Time seemed to slow as those words sank in.

A fake husband?

It was a proposition so unexpected that it felt surreal.

The notion of a fake husband as a security measure was not only unexpected but bewildering. You were an actress, well-versed in the art of portraying emotions, but this was a role unlike any other.

Frozen in your chair, you tried to process the magnitude of the revelation. Why would a fake husband be necessary? How would it work? A thousand questions swirled in your mind, but you couldn't voice them, not yet.

Seonghwa's voice broke through the uncertainty that hung in the air.

"Listen, I know this is unconventional, but it's essential. We need to keep you safe, and the police are doing their best, but they need time. Having Jongho," He nodded towards a folder on the table that contained the bodyguard's profile, "By your side as your fake husband will deter the stalker and buy us that time."

Jongho's image stared back at you from the folder, his stern yet reassuring gaze seeming to hold a promise of protection. You finally found your voice, though it wavered.

"But... a fake husband? How is that going to work?"

Your manager leaned back in his chair, his expression grave but determined, "It won't be easy, and it will demand a lot from both of you. But Jongho is one of the best in the business, and he's committed to keeping you safe. This is the most effective way to ensure your security while we deal with the stalker."

The gravity of the situation began to settle in, and you nodded slowly, understanding the necessity of the plan. It was a drastic step, but it seemed like the only option to protect your life and put an end to the relentless threats.

After the meeting adjourned, there was no time to waste.

You were immediately introduced to your bodyguard and newly appointed fake husband. As you stepped out of the meeting room, he was waiting patiently just outside, his presence exuding an air of unshakable composure.

His imposing figure drew your attention, and for a brief moment, you felt a flutter of uncertainty. But as he approached with a composed yet welcoming demeanour, he extended his hand with a warm smile.

"Hello, I'm Choi Jongho. It's a pleasure to meet you."

You shook his hand, the firmness of his grip reassuring and grounding. His politeness and the absence of any star-struck behaviour felt like a breath of fresh air in a world where you were often treated as nothing but a celebrity.

It was a refreshing change to encounter someone who didn't view you through the lens of fame and adulation.

For the first time in a long while, you didn't feel like the version of you who was an actress, pursued by the media and adoring fans. Instead, you were just you, a person who needed protection and support. It was a stark departure from the world you knew, but somehow, it felt like a sanctuary amidst the storm of your life.

Seonghwa, always efficient and focused on your safety, wasted no time in facilitating the initial introductions between you and Jongho.

In those first few moments, you exchanged basic information about yourselves, learning small details like your favourite food and hobbies. It was a surface-level exchange, but even those initial conversations helped break the ice and ease the tension that hung in the air.

But as your manager guided the conversation toward more serious matters, you couldn't escape the inevitable reality of your new situation. The "fake marriage" aspect of the plan loomed over you like uncharted territory.

"In light of recent events, Jongho will be moving into your apartment immediately," Seonghwa explained, his voice calm but authoritative, "You will need to start portraying yourselves as a married couple as soon as possible. This will provide the most convincing cover for your safety."

The weight of the decision settled heavily in the room.

It meant a complete upheaval of your daily life, your personal space now shared with a stranger who would become your fake husband. It was a leap into the unknown, and you felt a mixture of anxiety and curiosity about how this would unfold.

Jongho nodded in agreement, his expression resolute, "I'm here to ensure your safety. We'll need to learn about each other on the go, but I'm confident we can make this work."

With that assurance, Seonghwa guided the two of you through the practicalities of the arrangement – sharing living spaces, developing a cover story, and establishing boundaries that would maintain the illusion of a real marriage while preserving your individual lives.

As you stood at the threshold of this uncharted chapter, you wondered how this unconventional partnership would evolve.

The line between reality and pretence was about to blur, and the world as you knew it was changing faster than you could have ever imagined.

Truth be told, when Jongho first received the job offer, he had been reluctant to accept it.

As he found himself thrust into this new assignment, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions and thoughts swirled within him. It wasn't because he lacked the skills or experience; in fact, his reputation as one of the best bodyguards in the business had earned him this opportunity.

It was something else entirely that had fueled his hesitancy.

In his career, he had grown a firm dislike for what he referred to as the "elite" group of society, those who lived lives of opulence and extravagance, seemingly detached from the struggles of ordinary people. He viewed famous celebrities, including actresses like you, as a part of that elite circle.

His stereotype about such individuals had, therefore, created a barrier in his mind.

Jongho has never watched any of your dramas or movies, but he had heard of your recent surge in popularity. The news of your obsessive stalker had also reached his ears, given the extensive media coverage. It was a case that struck a chord with the public, and he was aware of the fear and distress you must have been experiencing.

Given the chance, he wanted to reject the job, convinced there were plenty of other bodyguards who would willingly step into his shoes.

But there was more at stake than just the assignment.

His career had been building up to this moment, the coveted promotion he had worked tirelessly to achieve. It was the role he had aspired to, a stepping stone towards his goals.

So here he stood, determined to do his job to the best of his abilities, even if it meant breaking through the barriers of his own prejudices. The prospect of playing the role of your husband, even in pretence, was a challenge he was willing to embrace.

Jongho's initial reluctance and preconceived notions faded away the moment he laid eyes on you for the first time.

Unlike the polished image he had seen on TV screens, the real you appeared before him, vulnerable and worn out from the constant state of anxiety you had endured. It was a stark contrast to the glamorous persona he had expected, and it made you seem profoundly... human.

As he observed your anxiety and exhaustion, his heart softened. He realised that beneath the fame and adulation, you were just a person dealing with an overwhelming threat.

He couldn't bring himself to act cold or distant to someone who had already endured so much.

A warm and assuring smile graced his lips as he greeted you, his heart fluttering when he realised how small your hand felt in his grasp. It was a subtle reminder of the fragility hidden behind your celebrity status.

But as Seonghwa delved into the arrangements, Jongho's heart sank. The reality of the situation hit him like a heavyweight, and he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the enormity of the task ahead. Protecting you was one thing, but playing the role of your husband was an entirely different challenge, one he hadn't anticipated.

Deep down, he longed for the assignment to be over already, the thought of pretending to be your husband weighing heavily on him.

But he knew that this unconventional partnership was a necessity, and he was committed to carrying out his duties to ensure your safety, no matter the personal toll it might take.

Seated in a private room with Seonghwa, you and Jongho did your best to digest the shocking news.

Your manager briefed both of you on the press release that would soon be handed to the mass media. According to the plan, it would be reported as breaking news that you had been secretly married all along, and your husband had decided to reveal himself to protect you, especially given the escalating danger posed by your stalker.

As Seonghwa outlined the details of the fabricated narrative, you felt a gnawing anxiety deep within.

Thoughts of your fans, supporters, and even your loved ones raced through your mind. How would they react to this sudden revelation? What would they think of your secret marriage? The fear of their disappointment and confusion weighed heavily on your heart.

Jongho, on the other hand, had a different set of worries.

As a seasoned bodyguard, he knew that maintaining a low profile was essential to his job's effectiveness.

This orchestrated marriage announcement could potentially place a target on his back, complicating an already challenging task of protecting you. The last thing he needed was added attention and scrutiny that could hinder his ability to keep you safe.

Silent tension hung in the room as you and Jongho exchanged knowing glances, each of you grappling with your own fears and uncertainties.

But you both understood the necessity of this deception and the lengths you were willing to go to ensure your safety.

With heavy hearts, you nodded in agreement, bracing yourselves for the whirlwind of changes that would soon engulf your lives, as the world believed you were a married couple, bound by a secret that was born out of necessity and desperation.

As a week passed since the news of your secret marriage had been reported, life had taken on a new rhythm, one that neither you nor Jongho could have anticipated. The initial days had been a whirlwind of chaos, with paparazzi swarming your home, their intrusive presence feeling like a relentless storm.

But in a strange twist of fate, you found a silver lining in the hordes of journalists camped outside your door. Their constant vigilance, though exhausting, had inadvertently scared away your stalker. The sheer number of people surrounding your home made it nearly impossible for him to make any further attempts on your life.

In the midst of this media circus, you had grown more accustomed to the idea of sharing your life with Jongho.

While the circumstances of your cohabitation were far from ordinary, you appreciated the security and support he provided. His presence brought a sense of reassurance, knowing that he was close by, ready to rush to your aid if needed.

Meanwhile, Jongho had experienced his own set of surprises.

When he first entered your home, he had expected an extravagant setting, in line with his stereotype about celebrities and their lavish lifestyles. But what he found was quite the opposite.

Your living space was surprisingly simplistic and unpretentious, more like an ordinary person's home than a famous actress' residence.

This unexpected discovery helped him view you in an entirely new light. You were not the distant and fancy elite he had imagined, but a person living a life marked by both fame and vulnerability. The contrast between your public image and your private life made you appear more relatable and human to him, bridging the gap between his prejudices and the reality he now faced.

The two of you had been effectively holed up in your home for a week, attempting to avoid the ever-present paparazzi.

But today, reality caught up with you as you glanced into your nearly empty fridge, realising you had run out of groceries to make dinner. With a heavy sigh, you turned to your bodyguard, knowing there was no other choice, "Jongho, we need to stock up on groceries."

Your fake husband nodded in understanding.

He was acutely aware of the restrictions this new life imposed on both of you. His job was to stay by your side at all times, ensuring your safety, which meant he couldn't leave you home alone. His gaze shifted to the window, where a sea of journalists and photographers continued to camp out.

"Gosh, this won't be easy," He muttered to himself, his brow furrowing as he assessed the situation outside, "But we can do this. I won't let anything happen to you."

You were struck by the genuine concern in his voice, and your heart fluttered in response. His words were a reassurance you desperately needed in the midst of this whirlwind of deception and danger. But you quickly reminded yourself that he was only doing his job, his duty to protect you.

Any personal feelings that might have stirred were irrelevant.

With a nod, you headed off to change, giving yourself a moment to regain your composure. The unexpected connection that had begun to form between you was something you couldn't ignore, but for now, it had to take a backseat to the more pressing matters at hand.

The journey from your home to the car was a daunting one, with the paparazzi surging forward the moment they caught sight of you and your "husband" stepping outside. The excitement among the journalists was palpable, and they bombarded you with endless questions about your secret marriage.

Jongho, determined to play his role and protect you, reacted swiftly.

He wrapped his strong arms securely around you, creating a protective barrier against the onslaught of cameras and questions. As he guided you toward the car, his grip was both reassuring and comforting, serving as a lifeline in the chaos.

In a moment of vulnerability, you instinctively clung to him, seeking refuge from the overwhelming media frenzy. You pressed your head against his chest, under his chin, as he held you close. His embrace was a source of solace, and you couldn't deny the comfort of having such a reliable protector by your side.

As you settled into the car, the chaos of the paparazzi finally fading into the background, Jongho pulled away slightly to check on you.

His concern was evident as he asked, "Hey, you okay?"

You nodded, a faint smile on your lips as you met his gaze, "Yeah, I'm fine. Thank you for your hard work." The warmth in your voice conveyed your appreciation for his protection.

He returned your smile, his eyes reflecting a sense of duty fulfilled. He turned the key to start the car and helped you fasten your seatbelt before glancing over at you, "This is nothing. Let's just hope my work won't have to get any more difficult than this."

As he navigated the car towards the closest supermarket, you couldn't help but steal a glance at him.

His dedication and caring nature had not gone unnoticed, and a part of you was grateful for his presence in this tumultuous time. But you couldn't ignore the twinge of attraction that had developed, a crush on your fake husband that you were hesitant to acknowledge.

Inwardly, you chided yourself for such feelings, attributing them to the unusual circumstances that had brought the two of you together. You told yourself that perhaps, under different circumstances, you might not have been drawn to him in the same way.

Regardless of the reason, you decided to focus on the task at hand – stocking up on groceries and returning home safely. The complexities of your fake marriage and the emotions it stirred would have to wait for another time.

The next day, after the supermarket mission, you couldn't escape the undeniable truth – photos of you and your "husband" were plastered across all newspapers, magazines, and TV headlines. The world seemed to buzz with speculation and interest in your secret marriage.

In the days since the news broke, you had refrained from accessing any of your social media accounts, afraid of what you might find there. The fear of backlash from your fans and supporters had kept you at bay.

But now, with the images of you and Jongho dominating the media, curiosity got the better of you.

Sitting in front of your computer, you logged on to your social media accounts, heart pounding with anticipation. Your notifications are immediately filled with messages, mentions, and comments. As you began to read through them, a mix of emotions washed over you.

There were those who expressed shock and disbelief, unable to reconcile the image of their beloved celebrity with the idea of a secret marriage. Some were sceptical, suspecting a publicity stunt, while others were genuinely happy for you, despite the unusual circumstances.

As you scrolled through the comments, you noticed a surprising amount of support and understanding from your fans. Messages of encouragement and well wishes outnumbered the negative responses.

It was a relief to see that not everyone had turned their backs on you.

Scrolling further, you inevitably stumble upon a message from your stalker. Just the sight of his name was enough to send a shiver down your spine. Your hands trembled as you hesitantly clicked into the message. The chilling words that met your eyes left you paralysed with fear and anger.

It read, 'How dare you do this to me? After everything I've done for you? You ungrateful bitch, your husband better sleep with one eye open because I don't know what I might do to him.'

Reading those threatening words, you felt a surge of terror and rage.

Your stalker's obsession had taken a dangerous turn, and his threats were now directed at your fake husband. The fear for your safety had intensified, but now you had to worry about Jongho's safety as well.

Your bodyguard's sharp instincts picked up on your trembling form as he walked past your bedroom door.

His years of training had made him hyper-aware of his surroundings, especially when it came to your safety. The moment he noticed your shaken state, he knew something was amiss.

Without hesitation, he knocked on your door, a quiet yet firm signal of his presence. You jumped slightly at the unexpected sound, your heart racing, but the fear in your eyes instantly faded when you saw that it was him. His protective presence was a welcome sight.

Seeing your evident distress, his concern deepened.

"May I come in?" He asked gently, giving you the choice to invite him into your personal space. You nodded weakly, your trembling hands covering your eyes as you struggled to regain your composure.

With utmost care, he entered your room and approached you slowly, ensuring he didn't startle you further.

He knelt down in front of you, his strong and reassuring presence a calming force in the midst of your fear. Gently, he pulled your hands away from your face, his eyes filled with concern as he studied your tear-stained cheeks.

"What's wrong?" He asked softly, his voice laced with empathy and worry. You wiped away your tears, gesturing to the computer where the threatening message from your stalker had appeared.

His expression darkened as he quickly assessed the situation, his heart sinking at the gravity of the threat.

He knew that this was no ordinary situation.

Your safety, as well as his own, was now on the line, and the danger posed by your stalker had escalated to a level neither of you could ignore. As he contemplated the best course of action, he silently vowed to protect you, whatever it took and put an end to the torment that had infiltrated your life.

Jongho wasted no time contacting Seonghwa, your manager, who arrived at your home promptly to check on your well-being and assess the threat sent by your stalker.

Once he was assured that you were physically fine, the three of you settled in your living room to discuss the situation. Jongho, with a deep furrow in his brow, inquired about the progress the police force had made with the case.

Seonghwa sighed loudly, his expression grave, and shook his head, signalling the lack of any substantial progress.

"They're still working on tracking him down," Your manager admitted, his frustration palpable, "But the stalker seems to be using a fake name to leave you messages. There's no such person with that name in their database, and he's done an excellent job concealing his digital footprints and IP address."

The news was disheartening, to say the least.

The realisation that the person responsible for your torment was eluding capture cast a shadow over the room. You felt a sense of vulnerability, knowing that the threat was still out there.

After a thoughtful pause, Jongho voiced his idea, "If he's so difficult to track online, perhaps we need to lure him out physically for them to stand a chance at capturing him." His suggestion hung heavy in the air, and the weight of his proposal was palpable.

Your eyes widened, and your heart sank at the daring plan he was proposing. The thought of being the bait in this dangerous game was undeniably frightening, but you understood the necessity of the approach. Your safety, as well as the safety of others, depended on finding a way to apprehend this stalker.

Seonghwa, though visibly concerned, recognised the validity of Jongho's argument.

After a moment of contemplation, he nodded reluctantly, "Alright," He conceded, his voice laced with worry, "Let me contact the representatives from the police force. Maybe together, we can come up with a plan."

The room was filled with a sense of determination.

Despite the risks and uncertainties that lay ahead, you were all united in your commitment to confront the stalker head-on and put an end to the terror that had plagued your life for far too long.

The following week, two police officers from the team handling your case arrived at your doorstep, accompanied by Seonghwa.

San and Hongjoong, as they introduced themselves, represented the law enforcement effort to capture your stalker. As they settled around your dining table, you chuckled lightly to yourself when you noticed San trying to contain his excitement in your presence.

It was clear that he was a fan of yours.

With all the men now settled around the dining table, you broke the silence, "Oh, let me just prepare you guys some tea."

It was a thoughtful gesture, an attempt to make the situation a bit more comfortable and welcoming. You moved into the kitchen to retrieve your teapot, and before anyone could react, San immediately volunteered to help.

Meanwhile, Jongho's irritation simmered beneath the surface as he watched the enthusiastic display. The officer's eagerness to assist you grated on his nerves, even though he knew it was a trivial matter in the grand scheme of things. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, keeping his emotions in check as best as he could.

With a confident and fluid motion, San effortlessly extended his arm to reach for the teapot on the top shelf. He handled the task with ease, his agility and eagerness on full display.

Jongho clenched his jaw, his internal frustration intensifying. He believed that it should have been his role to assist you, to ensure your comfort and well-being. But he quickly recognised the irrationality of his jealousy; after all, he was your fake husband, not your real one.

As San assisted you in serving tea and biscuits, Hongjoong maintained a polite demeanour, thanking you for the refreshments. He made sure to shoot a warning glare at San, a silent reminder that they were here on official business.

With everyone finally seated, you anxiously positioned yourself between Seonghwa and Jongho, awaiting the officers' ideas for capturing your stalker.

Hongjoong, the team leader for your case, wasted no time in getting down to business. He leaned forward, his expression focused and determined, and began to lay out a few possible plans to draw the stalker out, all of which revolved around you as the bait.

Each plan came with its own risks, and the room fell silent as you, Jongho, and Seonghwa considered the options. It was a difficult decision to make, knowing that your safety hung in the balance.

After hours of intense discussion and weighing the risks and benefits of each plan, a strategy was finally decided upon. It would involve a combination of the decoy strategy and social media bait to lure the stalker out of hiding.

You and Jongho would publicly go on a "date," during which you would post about your outing on social media. These posts would include seemingly innocent clues and hints about your whereabouts, making it appear as if you were sharing this information willingly.

At a prearranged moment, your fake husband would leave your side temporarily, creating a staged situation where you would be alone.

The hope was that this scenario would make you appear vulnerable and an easy target to the stalker, prompting him to make a move. But in reality, undercover officers would be strategically positioned nearby, ready to intervene at the first sign of trouble. The key to the plan's success would be the delicate balance between making it believable and ensuring your safety.

As the details of the plan were finalised, a sense of determination filled the room.

You all knew the risks involved, but you were united in your resolve to finally confront the stalker and put an end to this nightmare. The stage was set, and the countdown to the operation to capture the stalker had begun.

"Relax, I'm right here with you. You'll be safe." Jongho's reassuring voice broke through the fear that gripped your heart.

You were on your staged date with him, with undercover officers discreetly positioned around you. Even with the protective presence of law enforcement, the thought of potentially coming face-to-face with your stalker again made your heart race with anxiety.

Jongho tightened his grip on your hand as you both strolled through a park. You nodded appreciatively, giving his hand a soft squeeze.

Earlier, you had posted a few pictures with him on social media, acting as if you were excitedly sharing the sweet moment with your fans. Your comment section was filled with endless supportive messages. Despite the encouragement, you couldn't shake off the nervousness about what you were about to experience.

The park was serene and peaceful, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had engulfed your life.

As you both continued your walk, you glanced around, your senses on high alert, searching for any sign of the stalker's presence. With each step, the tension in the air grew thicker, and the weight of the operation weighed heavily on your shoulders.

The moment you had been dreading finally arrived when you spotted Hongjoong, disguised as a civilian jogging in the park, giving Jongho the signal to leave you alone.

Panic surged through you as Jongho gently sat you down on a nearby bench, his hand tenderly cupping your cheek, "I'll be back real quick, my love," He said, his voice laced with reassurance as he leaned in closer, "Just gotta run to the nearest bathroom. You wait right here, alright?"

You nodded weakly, your eyes trembling as you placed your hand over his, desperately clinging to the sense of safety he provided.

"Okay." You whispered fearfully, your eyes closing briefly as he pressed his lips against your forehead. It was a gesture meant to ground not only you but also himself; the last thing he wanted was to leave your side.

You exhaled shakily as you watched him walk away from you, each step he took filling you with a growing sense of dread and vulnerability. The plan was now set in motion, and all you could do was wait for the moment to strike.

The park remained deceptively peaceful, unlike the turbulent emotions swirling within you.

As you anxiously scanned your surroundings, you knew that this operation marked a critical juncture in your journey to confront your stalker. The minutes felt like an eternity as you braced yourself for whatever might come next.

In an effort to calm and distract yourself from the mounting tension, you focused on your breathing exercises. It was a technique that had helped you cope with stressful situations in the past, and now, in this tense moment, it served as a lifeline.

The minutes continued to crawl by.

Inside a completely tinted van parked at the entrance of the park, Jongho and Seonghwa closely monitored the situation through the footage from hidden cameras worn by the undercover officers. They, too, felt the weight of the suspense as they watched you.

After what felt like hours of nervous anticipation, a man approached you, his face filled with urgency. The tension in the van escalated as everyone remained on high alert, prepared to spring into action if this man turned out to be your stalker.

"Excuse me, miss, could you help me with directions? I seem to be a bit lost," You turned to face the stranger, your heart pounding in your chest. But you let out a sigh of relief when you realised that this person looked nothing like your stalker, "Of course, I can help. Where do you need to go?"

Upon closer observation, it became apparent that he was just a civilian in need of assistance. Anxiety levels began to ebb as it became clear that this was not their target.

As you stood up and turned away from the stranger to provide directions, the unthinkable happened. In a sudden and shocking move, the man pulled out a cloth filled with chloroform and pressed it against your face. Panic seized you as you gasped for breath, the toxic fumes overpowering your senses.

It was a calculated move on the part of your assailant, exploiting the moment when everyone's guard was down.

With your form growing weaker and limp, he swiftly hoisted you over his shoulder and bolted towards the exit of the park. It was a blur of motion, and everyone reacted with lightning speed as they realised what was happening. The peaceful park had transformed into a battleground in an instant, and the race to save you had begun.

Upon the horrifying realisation of what was happening, Jongho's heart leapt into his throat. His training kicked in as he shouted in alarm, "Shit, it really is him!"

Without a moment's hesitation, he bolted out of the van, his protective instincts in full force.

The urgency in his movements was palpable as he sprinted after your stalker. In that adrenaline-fueled moment, he couldn't bear the thought of leaving you alone, and he would never forgive himself if anything were to happen to you.

Goddamnit, I never should've left her side.

Just as he was closing in on your stalker, his heart nearly stopped when he witnessed the chilling sight of your assailant successfully placing your unconscious form in his car. Panic surged through him as he watched your stalker get into the driver's seat, a devious smirk curling on his lips after pulling off the disguise that had fooled you.

It was a heart-wrenching moment as the car started to pull away, driving off with you.

Jongho cursed loudly, his desperation growing by the second. It felt as though all hope was slipping through his fingers. But just when it seemed like the situation was becoming dire, a police car screeched to a halt in front of him. The door swung open, revealing San, "Quick, get in!"

Your bodyguard didn't need to be told twice.

He dashed into the police car, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination. As he settled into the vehicle, San wasted no time briefing him on the situation, "Hongjoong hyung, Seonghwa hyung, and the rest of the team are following the stalker in the van. We're not giving up on this, Jongho. We'll get her back."

Jongho's mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions.

Guilt gnawed at him, a heavyweight in his chest, as he recalled the fear in your eyes when he had to leave you alone back there. He cursed himself for making promises he couldn't keep, for telling you that you'd be safe when it seemed that he hadn't done a good enough job to protect you.

He knew that his role was to be your protector, and in that crucial moment, he had been forced to leave your side. The memory of your trembling form haunted him, and he felt like he had let you down.

Beside him, San remained focused on the road, determined not to lose sight of your stalker's car. The urgency of the situation hung in the air, but the sight of Hongjoong's van catching up in their rearview mirror brought a glimmer of hope.

After a tense and heart-pounding chase, San's car finally managed to pull up alongside the stalker's vehicle. The sight of your unconscious form in the passenger seat broke Jongho's heart, and he yearned to bring you to safety at that very moment.

Soon after, Hongjoong's van caught up as well, and together, both police vehicles had your stalker's car sandwiched in the middle. It seemed like they finally had the upper hand, and relief washed over them.

But just when they thought they had the situation under control, your stalker abruptly slammed on the brakes. In a swift and daring move, he executed a U-turn and managed to escape in another direction, leaving everyone cursing in frustration.

"Shit!" The expletive escaped their lips in unison as they quickly brought their vehicles to a halt, turning around to resume the pursuit of the stalker once again.

The chase was far from over.

Your groans filled the confined space of the car, your eyes fluttering open as awareness slowly returned. As your vision cleared, you widened your eyes in horror when you realised whose car you were in. The realisation sent a shiver of dread down your spine.

"Aw, are you up already, my love?" Your stalker cooed, a sickly sweet tone in his voice.

He moved a hand toward your face, intending to touch you, but you slapped his hand away in a burst of defiance. Your rejection angered him, and he reacted by grabbing your face aggressively, his grip tightening.

"Look at me!" He hissed, his face contorted with possessiveness, "I'm the only one you should be loving, you understand?!"

Tears welled up in your eyes as you cried out, "No, let me go!" You pushed him away, a surge of fear and anger giving you the strength to resist. The struggle between you intensified, creating a dangerous situation within the moving car.

Jongho, Seonghwa, and the police officers watched in mounting panic as they observed the turmoil unfolding inside the vehicle.

Their fear for your safety reached new heights as the car swerved dangerously, the consequences of the ongoing struggle unknown and potentially deadly. The race to rescue you had become even more urgent and perilous.

The fear that had been gripping everyone's hearts became a horrifying reality.

Your stalker's car careened out of control and collided with a divider. The impact was jarring, and it sent shockwaves through the vehicle. Metal twisted and glass shattered as the car came to a halt.

Hongjoong, his voice laced with urgency, immediately called for backup and requested medical assistance upon witnessing the devastating scene. Jongho and Seonghwa felt their stomachs drop as they could only pray for your safety, the uncertainty of your condition weighing heavily on their minds.

San, displaying quick thinking and resolve, had positioned his car right in front of your assailant's, effectively blocking any chance of escape.

Even if your stalker had any intention of fleeing the scene, he was now trapped, surrounded by law enforcement officers who were determined to ensure that you were rescued and that he faced the consequences of his actions.

Jongho wasted no time rushing out of the car and toward you, his heart pounding in his chest. He took deep breaths, attempting to calm the storm of emotions raging within him as you came into sight.

His hands trembled as he approached the wreckage of the car.

A trail of blood was visible, running down the side of your face, and as Jongho carefully pulled the car door open, his heart sank. One of your arms was bent at an unnatural angle, a clear sign that it had been broken. These were only the injuries he could see, and he feared that you might be suffering from even worse internal injuries.

Seonghwa skidded to a stop beside your bodyguard, his hand flying to his mouth in shock and despair as he took in your condition. Your manager cried out and attempted to reach for you, but Hongjoong intervened, his voice filled with concern, "No, don't move her. It could cause her more injuries. Wait till backup is here, they'll get her out safely."

Meanwhile, San acted swiftly, dragging your unconscious stalker out and placing him in handcuffs. The man responsible for this terrifying ordeal was now in custody, and justice would soon be served.

The backup that Hongjoong had called soon arrived.

As the experts carefully and safely extracted you from the wreckage of the car, emergency medical technicians and paramedics immediately went to work. They assessed your injuries and quickly loaded you onto a waiting ambulance, preparing to rush you to the hospital for the urgent care you needed.

One of the EMTs turned to Jongho and Seonghwa, asking, "So, which one of you will be coming with us to the hospital?"

Jongho's instinct was to be by your side, to ensure your safety, but he quickly realised his role as your bodyguard was just that – a role. It was Seonghwa who had a genuine personal connection with you, so he remained silent, deferring to your manager, who entered the ambulance to accompany you on the way to the hospital.

As the ambulance sped away toward the hospital, your bodyguard remained behind at the scene, watching with a sense of relief and satisfaction as your stalker was finally arrested right before his eyes.

The man who had caused so much fear and distress in your life would now face the consequences of his actions, taken away in Hongjoong's van to be questioned by the police.

After the stalker had been taken into custody and the immediate crisis had been resolved, San approached Jongho, throwing an arm over his shoulder in a gesture of support, "Come on, I'll take you to the hospital."

Your fake husband's eyebrows raised in surprise at the unexpected kindness from the officer. Perhaps, in this high-stress situation, he was starting to see that San wasn't as bad as he had initially thought. Grateful for the offer, Jongho nodded, and together they left the scene to join you at the hospital.

As you lay in the ambulance with your manager by your side, drifting in and out of consciousness, you occasionally felt someone gently grasping your hand. Despite the haze in your mind and the blurriness in your vision, you mustered the strength to squeeze back weakly.

In your weakened state, you couldn't quite make out Seonghwa's face, and in a soft, barely audible whisper, you called out, "Jongho..."

Your manager's heart ached as he heard your faint plea.

At that moment, he realised just how deep the connection between you and your fake husband must have grown during this challenging ordeal. He felt a pang of sympathy for you, knowing that Jongho was, in essence, nothing more than a bodyguard hired to protect you, and he might see you as nothing more than an assignment.

At the hospital, after you had been wheeled into the emergency care unit for a thorough examination, Seonghwa waited anxiously outside, his worry evident in his furrowed brow.

It didn't take long for Jongho to arrive at the hospital as well, his concern etched on his face as he approached your manager.

Your bodyguard wasted no time inquiring about any news regarding your condition, and Seonghwa shook his head somberly. After a moment of contemplation, the elder male decided to broach a delicate subject.

In the least confrontational tone he could muster, he began to speak, "Jongho, I want to ask something of you. Please... don't give her any mixed signals that could cause her to misunderstand the nature of the relationship between you two. It was only meant to be strictly business, for her safety. I ask this for her sake, to prevent any further confusion or complications in her life."

Seonghwa's plea was driven by his concern for you, wanting to ensure that you wouldn't be burdened with additional emotional turmoil in an already difficult situation.

Jongho swallowed hard, a sense of understanding and responsibility washing over him. He nodded slowly, acknowledging the weight of your manager's words, "Of course, hyung," He replied with a hint of remorse in his voice, "I understand."

As much as it pained him to agree, he knew that Seonghwa was right. His role was clear – he was your bodyguard and your fake husband, nothing more. He was here to do a job, and the thought of seeing you in any other light was unprofessional and inappropriate. He resolved to maintain the boundaries of his role, understanding that it was for the best.

The silence between the two was palpable after their conversation, both men understood the importance of focusing on your well-being above all else. They anxiously waited for any news regarding your condition.

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor finally emerged from the unit, prompting both men to shoot up from their seats immediately.

Seonghwa immediately asked, "How is she, doc?"

The doctor did his best to maintain a neutral expression as he delivered the news.

"She's not in immediate danger, but she has sustained quite a few internal injuries. Her liver has been damaged due to a broken rib. She's also suffering from a mild concussion. Other than the broken arm, those are her main injuries. We will need to schedule surgery to address the liver damage, and she'll have to stay in the hospital for an extensive period for monitoring and follow-up treatments."

The gravity of the situation hung heavily in the air as Seonghwa and Jongho processed the doctor's words, their primary concern now ensuring your recovery.

As the two men were finally allowed to enter your temporary ward before your surgery, you slowly peeled your eyelids open, feeling a surge of emotions as your tear-filled eyes met the sight of Jongho standing behind Seonghwa.

At that moment, you let a few tears escape.

You had been so frightened when you woke up in your stalker's car, and all you had wanted was to be near Jongho. The relief you felt when you saw him in San's car through the rearview mirror had been overwhelming. You realised that you couldn't deny your feelings for him any longer.

You knew it hadn't been long since you had met him, and the circumstances under which you had come to know him were far from ordinary. But the bond that had formed between you during this ordeal was undeniable, and you couldn't help but fall for him.

As you lay in the hospital bed, you found comfort in the presence of your protectors, silently hoping that your feelings wouldn't complicate the already complex situation you were all in.

After ensuring that you were stable, Seonghwa left the room to handle the paperwork, hospital fees, and to coordinate with your management team for the necessary actions.

This left Jongho alone with you in the room.

He approached you slowly and took a seat beside your hospital bed. His hand lifted as if he wanted to touch your face, but he hesitated and let it drop.

You furrowed your brows in confusion and disappointment, wondering why he had pulled away.

He glanced over your injuries once more, recalling what the doctor had said. In a whispered voice, he expressed his guilt, "God, it's all my fault you're hurt. I'm sorry for not doing a good enough job out there. I failed as your bodyguard, I failed to keep you safe."

You shook your head, attempting to reach out and hold his hand for comfort, but he pulled away before you could touch him. His rejection hurt you more than your physical injuries, leaving you feeling confused and rejected.

As you lay there in the hospital bed, trying to make sense of Jongho's actions and his decision to push you away, you reflected on your earlier thoughts. You had initially believed that once your stalker was captured, everything would finally return to normal, and life would be great again.

But now, as you grappled with his distancing behaviour, you began to realise that you might have preferred the time when all he cared about was being near you and protecting you.

The reality hit you hard – things hadn't been as great as you had imagined because if there were no more threats, there would be no need for him in your life. This meant that he might not be by your side for long, and the prospect of his absence left you feeling a deep sense of loss and longing for the connection you had formed.

As time passed in the hospital, you had initially believed that Jongho's cold and distant behaviour was a result of the immense guilt he felt for your injuries.

However, it became evident that there was more to it.

After your surgery and the weeks of treatments, you had spent nearly a month in the hospital. During this time, you suffered emotionally more than you ever had before because your bodyguard had transformed into a stoic and distant figure.

Jongho now asserted that since your stalker had been arrested, there was no longer any need for him to play the role of your fake husband. He emphasised that he was only your bodyguard now and that he should behave as such. This change in his attitude and the distance he maintained left you feeling hurt and confused, as if a significant connection had been severed between you two.

Seonghwa had left your room after his visit one night, leaving you alone with Jongho once again. He stood stoically by the corner of your room, his gaze fixed straight ahead.

The tension between you had become unbearable, and you voiced your frustration, "Are you really going to keep acting this way? I thought we were at least friends after everything we've been through."

He remained unmoving, as if he hadn't heard your words.

You let out a tired sigh and continued, "Fine. Just... I'm feeling like some fruit juice. Could you just run to the cafeteria and get me some of that?" You had decided to send him out, hoping he could have a moment to himself. You needed a break from his cold and distant presence, even if it was just for a little while.

As he gave a curt nod and left your room, you leaned back in your bed, staring out of the window in the deafening silence.

Doubts and questions swirled in your mind, wondering if the bond you thought had developed between you and him had been one-sided all along. Perhaps he had been that skilled at acting, so convincing in pretending that he genuinely cared. It left you feeling deceived and uncertain about the true nature of your relationship with him.

Meanwhile, Jongho clenched his fists in frustration once he was out of your room. Anger swelled within him, directed both at himself and at the situation. He hated having to hurt you like this, but he knew it was necessary if he wanted to respect Seonghwa's words.

He kept repeating to himself that it was for the best.

As he stood in line at the cafeteria, ready to order your favourite juice, his phone rang. The caller ID displayed San's name, and he wondered why the officer would be calling him at this hour.

He picked up the call, "Hey, San hyung. What's up?"

But before he could even get a response, what he heard on the other end of the line almost made him drop his phone. He didn't waste a second before he started running back to your room. San's urgent voice rang in his ears, "The stalker, he's escaped from his cell. We fear he's going to find her."

Fear gripped his heart as he rushed back to your room.

He was relieved to hear that the police were sending reinforcements to the hospital and that they had contacted Seonghwa. But as he approached your room, his heart sank when he saw the door, which had been previously closed, now left slightly ajar.

He pushed the door open cautiously, adrenaline surging through his veins. As he stepped inside, he noticed that you were no longer in your bed. Panic welled up inside him, and he quickly scanned the room, heart dropping to the deepest pit of his stomach at the sight of blood droplets staining your bed.

Shit, this is all my fault.

His heart pounded in his chest as he followed the trail of bloodstains, his mind racing with a million thoughts.

He blamed himself for being distant and cold when you needed him the most. Guilt gnawed at him, making it hard to focus. He knew he had to find you quickly, but his own self-condemnation threatened to overwhelm him.

As he continued to follow the bloodstains, he thought about the moments you had shared, the connection that had formed between you. It was in these tense moments that he realised just how much he cared about you.

And he couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you.

Jongho was in turmoil as he followed the trail of blood to the rooftop, his emotions a chaotic whirlwind. He promised himself that if he found you safe and sound, he wouldn't hide his feelings anymore. You deserved to know how much he cared about you, regardless of the circumstances that had brought you together.

He jumped when his phone rang, hands trembling as he accepted the call from San, "Hyung, he's got her. I found a trail of blood from her bed that led to the rooftop."

Sensing his panic, the officer responds, "Alright, breathe, Jongho. Backup is already stationed around the premises of the building. I'm going to need you to go up there and do your best to diffuse the situation, I'll be there with Hongjoong hyung soon."

He nodded, even though San couldn't see him over the phone.

He took a deep breath to steady himself, feeling a rush of determination to find you and protect you at all costs. The rooftop was the last place he wanted to be, filled with danger and uncertainty, but he had no choice.

With swift but cautious steps, he ascended the stairs leading to the rooftop. His heart raced with each passing moment, imagining what kind of confrontation he might face with your stalker. But he couldn't afford to let fear paralyse him. He had a job to do, and that job was to save you.

Deep down, he hoped that he could make amends for his previous behaviour by rescuing you and proving that he would always be there for you when it truly mattered.

As Jongho pushed open the door to the rooftop, his heart pounded in his chest, and his mind raced with fear.

The chilling sight that met his eyes filled him with dread.

There you were, standing helplessly in front of your stalker, a knife pressing dangerously against your neck. Your bodyguard's jaw clenched as he took in the nightmarish scene.

The stalker's deranged words echoed in the eerie silence of the rooftop, "I loved you so much, I dedicated my everything to you," He hissed, his voice filled with twisted devotion, "And yet, this is what you try to do? Lock me away for the rest of my life? I told you, if I can't have you, then no one else can. Today, I'll make sure we stay together forever. We'll jump down here together, alright?"

Your frightened whimper tore at Jongho's heart, and he watched helplessly as the stalker pressed a disgusting kiss against your cheek, his words dripping with sickening affection, "Shh, don't be scared. I'll be here with you every step of the way."

Jongho's fists clenched at his sides, anger and fear warring within him. He knew he had to act fast to save you, even if it meant risking his own life. With a determined step forward, he raised his voice, his words laced with unwavering resolve.

"Enough! Let her go, you bastard!"

Your stalker growled menacingly at your fake husband, "You fool, did you really think you could steal her away from me? No one, and I mean no one loves her more than I do. You think you know her? Well, I bet you don't know her better than I do. You're temporary, Choi Jongho. I'm her forever. Don't worry though, she won't have time to miss you in the afterlife. I'll take good care of her."

The wind whipped around the rooftop, carrying with it the sinister words of your stalker. His grip on the knife was unyielding. Jongho's gaze remained locked on your trembling form, his heart aching at the despair in your eyes.

He couldn't let this madman take you away.

Steeling himself, he retorted, "You're the real fool here. Love isn't about obsession and possession. It's about caring for someone, respecting their choices, and ensuring their happiness. You're incapable of love; you're just a deranged stalker."

The stalker's eyes flickered with rage at his words, and he tightened his grip on the knife, pressing it even closer to your neck, "Don't push me, Choi Jongho. I can end this for both of us right now."

But Jongho refused to back down.

He took a cautious step closer, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins, "You don't have to do this. You can still stop, let her go, and surrender peacefully. There's help for you, too."

The stalker's face contorted with fury, his sanity slipping further away, and he pushed you further towards the edge.

Tears streamed down your face as you stared at your bodyguard, silently begging for help. You knew the chances of survival were slim, but you couldn't give up, not when there were still so many people who cared about you.

With a trembling voice, you whispered, "Jongho, please..."

The stalker's grip tightened, and he pressed the knife closer to your throat. His voice was a chilling hiss, "Say your goodbyes, my love. You'll be with me soon."

It was at that moment that San and Hongjoong burst in through the door to the rooftop.

The stalker's eyes widened in terror at their presence, guns drawn and aimed squarely at him. His fingers trembled, and he took a step back, his grip on you loosening slightly. The officers had the situation under control, and the stalker knew he was trapped.

Cornered and left with no choice, the stalker decided now would be the perfect time to jump, "See you in the afterlife, my love."

As his desperate voice echoed through the rooftop, his manic determination pushed him to the edge. Before anyone could react, he lunged forward, grabbing you and pulling you down with him. Panic surged through you as you plummeted towards the ground, but then you felt a strong grip on your hand.

Jongho acted swiftly, leaping forward to grab you just in time.

Your scream echoed, but your bodyguard's strength was unwavering. He held on with every ounce of determination, his muscles straining as he fought to keep you from falling.

San and Hongjoong rushed forward, their faces etched with urgency, to assist Jongho in pulling you back onto the rooftop. Their combined strength proved enough to counteract the stalker's final attempt to take you with him. With a collective effort, they hoisted you up to safety, setting you down gently on the rooftop.

Seonghwa, who had been watching in sheer terror, let out a shuddering breath as he saw you safe and sound. The danger had passed, and you were once again out of harm's way.

While you were safe on the rooftop, the situation with your stalker unfolded below. His descent had been cushioned by the firefighters' safety air cushion, preventing his immediate demise. But he was not met with a moment of freedom. Instead, he was immediately surrounded by a swarm of law enforcement officers.

Police officers, with guns drawn and handcuffs at the ready, approached him cautiously. This time, they had taken no chances, and the security measures were heightened to ensure he wouldn't escape again.

It was clear that his reign of terror was coming to an end.

As the authorities apprehended him, his eyes darted around in wild desperation, realising that his plan had failed miserably.

He had hoped to take you with him to whatever twisted version of an afterlife he had imagined, but now he was facing the harsh reality of the legal system. His love, which had become an obsession, had led him down a dark path, and he was finally being held accountable for his actions.

On the rooftop, you were overcome with a mixture of relief and emotional exhaustion.

Tears streamed down your face as you clung to Jongho, who held you tightly in his arms. He whispered soothing words and assurances, "Hey, hey, you're safe. I've got you." Your heart still raced from the adrenaline, and you trembled in his embrace. It had been a terrifying ordeal, but you were safe now, and that's all that mattered.

After Hongjoong left to deal with the stalker downstairs, San approached the two of you with a wide grin. He played a crucial role in ensuring your safety, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment. Saving a famous celebrity was something he would undoubtedly brag about for the rest of his life.

He chuckled lightly and patted Jongho on the back, "You guys okay?" He asked, his voice filled with genuine concern. You nodded, your voice shaky but filled with gratitude, "Thank you, San. Thank you, all of you. You saved my life."

San waved it off modestly, "It's our job, but I'm just glad you're safe."

The officer later accompanied Jongho and you back to your hospital room, where Seonghwa had been anxiously waiting. When he saw you, his eyes welled up with tears, and he rushed forward, enveloping you in a tight and careful hug. He was mindful of your injuries, especially the small but fresh cut on your neck.

"Oh, thank god, you're alright," He whispered, his voice trembling with relief, "I promised your parents I'd take good care of you."

You smiled warmly into his shoulder, patting him on the back, "And you did, Hwa. You always have."

Jongho watched the two of you, feeling a tiny hint of jealousy bubbling within him. He knew that Seonghwa was like a brother to you, but his newfound feelings for you made it challenging to remain rational and suppress those emotions.

Soon after, the doctor and nurses flooded the room, ready to check on your condition and ensure you were recovering well. It was a whirlwind of emotions and activity, but you were just grateful to be alive and surrounded by people who cared deeply about you.

The two men were asked to leave the ward while the medical team checked on you.

Outside your hospital room, they sat down on a bench, away from the commotion inside. Jongho knew he had to be honest with Seonghwa about his growing feelings for you. He took a deep breath and began, "Hyung, I can't deny it anymore. I... I have feelings for her."

There was a brief silence that made the younger male anxious, fearing that this revelation might cost him his position as your bodyguard. But to his surprise, your manager smiled, "Yeah, I know. I was waiting to see how long it would take for you to finally admit it."

Jongho blinked, taken aback by the response, "You knew? How?"

Seonghwa chuckled, his gaze fixed on the door to your room, "I've known her for a long time, Jongho. I've seen the way she looks at you, even before all this happened. You two have been through a lot together, and feelings like these are bound to happen. Just promise me you'll be patient and take good care of her. She deserves someone who'll protect her heart as well as her safety."

Your bodyguard nodded, a mixture of relief and determination washing over him, "I promise, hyung. I'll do my best for her," Seonghwa patted his shoulder with a knowing smile, "That's all I wanted to hear."

Seonghwa looked at him with a thoughtful expression, "But there is one more thing..." He added, causing the younger male's anxiety to resurface. Jongho swallowed hard, fearing what else your manager might reveal, "What is it, hyung?"

"You do know that we will have to reveal the truth about the fake marriage to the public once the stalker gets properly taken care of by the authorities, right?"

Jongho nodded, the weight of that truth settling on his shoulders, "I'm aware of that. I know I'm only her fake husband, and I will have to work very hard to earn my spot as her actual partner. For now, I just want to do my job as her protector for as long as you'll allow me."

Seonghwa smiled, patting him on the back once again, "I appreciate your honesty, Jongho. And I'm sure she will too. Just remember, love isn't something that can be rushed. Take your time, and who knows what the future holds."

With those words of encouragement, the two men settled into a companionable silence, watching over your room as you continued your recovery. It was a challenging path ahead, but Jongho was now determined not only to protect you but also to win your heart when the time was right.

A week had passed since the night of the rooftop confrontation with your stalker. He had been charged and sentenced to five years in prison, coupled with a hefty fine and a restraining order that would keep him far away from you.

The weight of fear and anxiety that had hung over your life for so long was finally lifting.

The stalker's sentencing brought relief that washed over you as you lay in your hospital bed. Seonghwa was busy cutting up some fruit for you while Jongho sat on your other side. He had resumed his role as your protector, but there was something different in the air now. He seemed more at ease, more like the person who had been by your side during the fake marriage.

As you watched the news report on the TV, you muttered softly, "Oh, thank god," Your manager turned to you with a reassuring smile, "Yes, it's finally over. You can rest easy now."

Jongho nodded in agreement, his gaze briefly meeting yours. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to you. It felt like things were slowly returning to normal, and you enjoyed the comfortable presence of the man who had once been your fake husband.

You wanted to say something, to ask if you were friends now or something more, but you decided to let things develop naturally.

For now, you were content just to have him by your side, protecting you, and maybe, just maybe, something more would blossom between you in due time.

After your release from the hospital, life slowly began to return to normalcy. Your label had released a statement revealing the truth about Jongho being your bodyguard and fake husband, all in an effort to protect you from the stalker who was now behind bars.

The transparency about the situation surprised you, but you knew it was the right decision to put any misconceptions to rest.

To your surprise, your fans' reactions were overwhelmingly positive.

Most of them had been shipping you and Jongho since the reveal, and they found your fake marriage incredibly cute. They didn't hide their support, and the messages and comments flooded your social media, expressing their hopes that you and your bodyguard would someday end up together for real.

As you scrolled through these messages, your cheeks grew warm, and a smile tugged at your lips. It was heartwarming to see the outpouring of affection from your fans. While you knew that your relationship with Jongho was still complicated and undefined, you felt a glimmer of hope regardless.

Life had returned to its hectic pace after your recovery, with your schedule packed full of work commitments.

You received numerous job offers, and among them, you accepted a female lead role in a highly anticipated drama. You also became an ambassador for a well-known fashion brand. The entertainment industry welcomed you back with open arms, and you relished every moment of it.

Your days were filled with rehearsals, shoots, and public appearances, and you loved every minute of it. The rush of being on set, bringing characters to life, and attending glamorous events made you feel truly alive.

What made it all the better was Jongho's continued presence by your side. To your surprise, he had agreed to stay on as your bodyguard. Despite his initial reservations and the complicated nature of your relationship, he was there for you, offering you his unwavering support and protection.

No matter how busy your work became, knowing that he was there made everything feel more manageable. His watchful presence gave you a sense of security, and you found comfort in his quiet strength.

As your fan meeting event was in full swing, you sat at the centre of the stage, surrounded by adoring fans. Jongho, as always, stood protectively behind you, vigilant and watchful. Your fans were known for their playfulness and ability to tease.

Today was no exception.

Amid the questions and comments from the audience, someone playfully asked your bodyguard if he thought you looked prettier with or without makeup. His cheeks flushed, and he cleared his throat, trying to maintain a composed demeanour.

But you couldn't resist adding to the fun. You pushed the microphone towards him, a mischievous glint in your eye, and he blinked at you.

Realising you weren't going to let him off the hook easily, he sighed and reluctantly took the microphone. His answer was timid, and his voice quivered slightly, "She looks beautiful either way. She's... she's always beautiful, no matter what she does."

His response sent the crowd into a frenzy of excited screams and cheers. Some fans even shouted, "He's in love! He's in love with her, I knew it!" Jongho shook his head, trying to downplay the situation as he passed the microphone back to you.

Seonghwa, watching from the sidelines, shot you a warning glare.

It was a silent reminder not to fuel any rumours or speculation about your relationship with Jongho. While your fans may have shipped the two of you, you both knew that there were lines that needed to be respected, especially in the world of celebrity and personal security.

After the fan event ended, Seonghwa wasted no time in giving you a stern lecture for your reckless actions on stage.

You listened quietly, well aware that your playfulness might have caused trouble for the PR team. You didn't want to worsen the situation by talking back or defending your actions.

Jongho, seeing you being scolded, couldn't bear it.

He stepped in, attempting to take some of the blame upon himself, "Hyung, it's my fault too," He said, "I shouldn't have played along." He meant well, but his choice of words ended up stinging you. You turned to face him, your expression a mix of hurt and confusion.

"Play along?" You asked in a small voice, "So, you didn't mean what you said?"

Your manager, sensing that this was a personal conversation that needed privacy, quietly excused himself from the meeting room, leaving you and Jongho alone to sort out your feelings.

Sheesh, about damn time they addressed the elephant in the room.

Your emotions had reached a breaking point, and you couldn't contain your feelings any longer. You confronted him, your voice laced with frustration and a hint of sadness.

"If you don't feel the same, then just let me know once and for all," You told him, your voice trembling, "So I can finally move on from you. Do you even know how many guys out there would die to date me? And here you are, messing with my feelings. Who do you think you are, Choi Jongho?"

Tears welled up in your eyes despite your attempt to sound tough, and the vulnerability in your voice and the tears in your eyes spoke volumes about how deeply you cared for him and how much his actions had affected you.

Jongho could see the pain in your eyes, and it cut him to the core. He knew he had to be honest with you now, no matter the consequences.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped closer to you and gently cupped your face in his hands, his touch making your heart race.

"I'm so sorry," He began, his eyes locked onto yours, "I never meant to hurt you. The truth is, I do feel something for you, something more than just my duty as a bodyguard. But I've been trying to keep my distance, thinking it was the right thing to do. I didn't want to blur the lines between our professional relationship and something more. But I can't deny my feelings any longer. I care about you a lot."

He let his words hang in the air, the weight of his confession heavy in the room, "I understand if you're angry or hurt, but I needed you to know the truth. I'm here for you, no matter what you decide."

You couldn't contain your frustration any longer as you pushed his chest weakly, a mixture of exasperation and affection in your voice, "Oh, you idiot," His gaze dropped, expecting rejection, but your next words took him completely by surprise, "Why couldn't you have just told me that from the beginning?"

His head shot up, eyes wide with disbelief and hope. And before he could come up with a response, you pressed your lips against his.

There was a moment of hesitation, as if you both couldn't quite believe this was happening. But then, the world seemed to fade away as you both melted into the kiss, and he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping tightly around you.

It was a kiss that spoke of all the unspoken words, all the longing that had been hidden for far too long.

It was a kiss that marked the beginning of something new, something real, and something beautiful between you and the man who had once been just your bodyguard but had now become so much more.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa had been silently listening to your conversation from outside the door. He couldn't help but be curious about what was transpiring between you two, especially after all the secrecy and tension that surrounded your fake marriage.

As he pushed the door open slightly to get a better view, he was not prepared for the scene that greeted him. Seeing you and Jongho locked in a passionate kiss, his eyes widened in surprise.

Clearing his throat loudly to announce his presence, he succeeded in startling both of you. Caught off guard by your manager's sudden appearance, you jumped apart, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

But the mischievous grin on Seonghwa's face told you that he was clearly enjoying this moment.

"Oh, your fans are gonna love this." He quipped with a knowing look.

You and Jongho exchanged glances before bursting into laughter, the tension from your confession melting away.

As you found your way back into his arms, he pulled you close and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, his affectionate gesture drawing a contented smile from you. Whatever challenges lay ahead, you were ready to face them together.

The decision not to announce your relationship to the public was one you both made together, driven by the desire to establish a stable foundation for your love before sharing it with the world.

You understood that public scrutiny and the demands of fame could add complexities to a relationship, and you wanted to ensure that your bond was strong enough to withstand these challenges.

Despite being deeply in love and already a couple in private, you continued to play your respective roles as a celebrity and dedicated bodyguard when in the public eye. To outsiders, nothing had changed, and you maintained the professional distance that your positions required.

This was necessary to avoid any unnecessary complications or misunderstandings.

Only a select few individuals were privy to the truth of your relationship. Seonghwa, being your trusted manager and confidant, was among those who knew. Additionally, a handful of staff members from your label who had been close to you were also aware of your budding romance. These individuals respected your desire for privacy and provided you with the necessary support and discretion.

As days turned into weeks, you and Jongho continued your secret romance, relishing the stolen moments of affection you could share while maintaining your public personas.

Despite the need for secrecy, you exchanged meaningful glances whenever you could. You'd occasionally sneak a quick kiss when you thought nobody was looking, and Jongho, though he warned you about the risks, often found himself giving in to you.

Your days remained busy, with your demanding schedules, but you were both incredibly happy.

The fatigue seemed to fade away with your boyfriend by your side. Jongho was not only devoted to your safety but also your general well-being, making sure you were taken care of in every way possible.

Your relationship grew stronger day by day, and you both knew that when the time was right, you would reveal your love to the world. Until then, you cherished the moments you had together, grateful for the love and support that had blossomed between you.

While your boyfriend agreed to keep your relationship a secret for your sake, there were times when his patience was tested.

And tonight was one of those nights.

The atmosphere in the upscale restaurant was buzzing with excitement as you and the cast and crew of your latest drama celebrated its successful completion. The evening had been filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and heartfelt toasts to commemorate the hard work that had gone into the production.

You, the beloved actress, had basked in the adoration of your colleagues and enjoyed the festivities.

But as the night wore on, and the alcohol flowed freely, the atmosphere began to change. The friendly camaraderie between colleagues started to give way to a few more bold interactions. It was in this slightly inebriated state that one of your co-stars decided to make his move.

The actor, emboldened by liquid courage, slid closer to you as you sipped your soju, offering you a refill with a sly grin. His compliments became more personal, his touches lingering a little too long.

Although you maintained your composure and politeness, you felt incredibly uncomfortable.

Jongho, who had been discreetly watching you from a nearby table, noticed the situation escalating. His eyes narrowed as he saw the co-star's advances becoming increasingly inappropriate.

His protective instincts kicked in, and he struggled with the urge to intervene. He knew that publicly revealing his feelings for you might jeopardise your career, but seeing you in discomfort was something he couldn't bear.

He silently scanned the room for your manager, hoping he could step in, but Seonghwa was occupied elsewhere.

With every passing moment, Jongho's internal battle raged. He clenched his jaw, his fists tightening in frustration. He was torn between his duty as your bodyguard and his desire to protect you from unwanted advances.

He knew you could handle yourself, but the combination of alcohol and the actor's persistence made him uneasy. He decided that he couldn't stand by any longer; he needed to step in and protect you.

With a determined expression, he excused himself from the staff table, leaving behind his unfinished meal and the curious gazes of those who knew him as your bodyguard. He swiftly approached the scene, his imposing figure making an impression as he stood between you and the persistent co-star.

The actor's smug demeanour faltered as he met Jongho's cold, unwavering gaze, "I think she made herself clear. It's time for you to step back."

Your co-star smirked in disbelief, "And who are you? If she didn't want me around her, she would've said so herself. Go back to your staff table and stay out of this."

A hushed murmur spread through the gathered staff and colleagues. Everyone seemed taken aback by the audacity of the co-star's actions and his blatant disregard for boundaries. It was clear that he might have had one too many drinks.

You exchanged a quick glance with Jongho, who had remained stoic in the face of the actor's defiance. Your boyfriend's face was unreadable, but you could sense the simmering anger beneath his composed exterior.

"Who am I? I'm her boyfriend, and you need to back off." Jongho asserted, his voice steady and unwavering.

Seonghwa, who had returned just in time to witness the unfolding confrontation, couldn't believe his ears. He stood frozen, jaw dropped, as he tried to process Jongho's unexpected revelation.

The entire room seemed to hold its breath.

The co-star, clearly inebriated and in disbelief, let out a laugh, "You're delusional, aren't you? Why would she date you, of all people?" He jeered, not taking your boyfriend's claim seriously.

Frowning in frustration, you decided it was time to set the record straight. In a bold move, you moved closer to Jongho, intertwining your fingers with his. It was a clear and unspoken declaration of your relationship, a message to the actor that his advances were neither welcome nor wanted.

"It's true, he is my boyfriend. And I'd appreciate it if you could show him some respect."

The room fell into a stunned silence as the truth settled in. The co-star's expression changed from arrogance to bewilderment, and then a staff member, recognising the situation, quickly stepped in to pull the drunk actor away from the table.

As the co-star was led away, the atmosphere shifted.

The shock was replaced by cheers and applause from the gathered staff and colleagues. Words of excitement and support filled the room as they realised that you and Jongho were finally confirming what they had suspected all along.

"It's about damn time! We've waited too long for this confirmation!" Someone shouted, summing up the sentiment in the room.

You and Jongho exchanged bewildered looks before sharing a hearty laugh at the unexpected turn of events. While you had intended to keep your relationship a secret, sometimes, circumstances had a way of bringing hidden feelings to the surface.

After the incident that eventful night, you and Jongho decided to take the plunge and announce your relationship to the world.

The news sent shockwaves through your fanbase.

Your fans were overjoyed that their dreams of you two being together had finally come true. They flooded your social media accounts with endless congratulations and well-wishes, thanking you for sharing your love story with them.

As for the drunk co-star, he eventually sobered up and realised the gravity of his actions.

Filled with remorse, he mustered the courage to approach both you and your boyfriend to apologise for his shameful behaviour. He admitted his wrongdoing and expressed his sincere regret for his misguided actions that night. You, being the gracious person you were, forgave him without hesitation.

With your relationship out in the open and your fans' overwhelming support, you and Jongho embarked on a new chapter together, excited to see what the future held for you as a couple in the spotlight.

A few months had passed since your relationship was made public.

Your latest fan meeting event was in full swing, and this time, your fans had become bolder with their teasing questions.

Jongho, standing protectively behind you, had a hard time containing his laughter throughout the event. As the questions from your fans flowed, one brave soul finally asked, "Jongho! When will you make her your real wife?"

The question hung in the air, and you felt a sudden wave of tension in the room. You didn't dare look at your boyfriend, fearing what his response might be. After a moment, you heard him move to pick up the microphone from beside you. Your heart raced as he took the stage, his voice steady and sincere.

"I'm always ready to be her real husband," Jongho declared, his words causing a collective gasp and excitement among the crowd, "It's just up to her when she wants to take that step."

The hall erupted into cheers and applause as he leaned down to press a kiss onto your head. Your heart pounded in your chest as you turned to look at him, searching for any hint that he might be joking. His eyes held nothing but sincerity, and it became clear that he meant every word he had just said.

The realisation hit you like a tidal wave, leaving you both surprised and thrilled at the prospect of a future together as more than just a celebrity and her bodyguard.

As you got home that evening, you had been unusually quiet after the event, and Jongho grew concerned. While you were busy removing your makeup, he approached you from behind, his fingers gently playing with your hair.

"Are you alright, baby?" He asked softly.

Your actions halted, and you stood up, turning to face him. With an accusing finger, you pointed at him, "You... were you serious about what you said earlier? Do... do you really mean it?" Vulnerability shone in your eyes, and you needed him to be honest.

His expression softened, and he nodded, his hands moving to grasp your waist and pull you close, "Of course, I was serious. Why would I joke about something like that?" He replied sincerely.

You frowned, playfully slapping him on his chest.

"I don't know! You're an idiot like that sometimes—" He cut you off with a reassuring kiss. His lips on yours spoke volumes, confirming the truth in his words, and the worries that had lingered began to melt away as you shared a passionate moment.

The next day at work, everyone teased you relentlessly after Jongho's sweet words went viral online in a fan-recorded video. You waved them off, your cheeks still pink with embarrassment.

"Oh, there you are! Come with me," Seonghwa said, pulling you away from your gossiping colleagues. You furrowed your brows, "What is it, Hwa?"

He shushed you with a knowing smile, "You'll find out soon."

You wondered what he needed you for as he led you towards the main lobby. Then, you gasped in surprise when you found the whole place decorated with balloons that spelt out 'Will you marry me.' Your heart raced, and your eyes filled with tears as your boyfriend stood in the centre of the room, holding a bouquet of roses.

Seonghwa gave you a gentle push towards Jongho.

Your legs felt shaky as you approached him, and you could barely hold back the tears. He knelt down in front of you, his eyes filled with love and sincerity. This was the moment you'd been longing for, and he finally asked you the question you'd always dreamed of hearing.

"Will you finally allow me to be your real husband?" He said, his voice filled with emotion. Overwhelmed with joy, you nodded vigorously, tears streaming down your cheeks, "I thought you'd never ask."

The room erupted in applause and cheers as he slipped a beautiful engagement ring onto your finger, sealing your love and commitment to each other. You laughed through your happy tears, knowing that your life from now on would be filled with endless love.

As you lay together in bed that night, you refused to succumb to sleep, your eyes trained on your fiancé.

Jongho sighed lightly, peeling open his eyes to look at you, "Oh, will you please go to sleep? You have a long day tomorrow," You grinned, pressing closer to him, "I want to look at you for a bit more."

He chuckled, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back, "You're so silly. You look at me every day, and still, you want to look at me now," You bit your lip playfully, leaving a kiss on his jaw, "Well, it's different now. You're about to be my real husband soon."

His heart melted at your words as he cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin, "I love you so much, you know that?"

You nodded, your eyes filled with affection, and he finally kissed you on your lips, sealing your love in that sweet moment.

As you wrapped your arms around each other, you both knew that your journey together was just beginning, and the future held endless possibilities and happiness for the two of you.

This one is for all the Jongho stans out there who are suffering as well. We're in this together! So happy to have Seonghwa assure us that our baby bear is recovering well.

Anyway, hope y'all liked this and as always, leave as many replies as you want to let me know your thoughts! <3

Lastly, feel free to drop a reply or message if you wish to be part of the permanent tag list (or if you wish to be removed, I'd understand).

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #choi jongho #ateez jongho #fake marriage au #bodyguard au #jongho x reader #jongho x you #ateez fic #jongho oneshot #ateez oneshot

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ineffectualdemon · 11 months

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I (or someone else! I am happy for someone to steal this idea) need to write a fic where Binghe has to marry Liu Qingge because everyone in the demon realm thinks that he was just waiting to make an honest man out of Liu Qingge because he wanted Shen Qingqiu as his first husband

Which means when he doesn't immediately pursue and wed Liu Qingge after marrying Shen Qingqiu but continues to flirt with him (beat the shit out of him) the demon realm kicks off

And yeah Luo Binghe could just kill people until they let it go but

1. It's a big hassle that would mean a lot of time away from his Shizun

2. Mobei Jun is on his side but also keeps making little comments about he thought Binghe was "better than that"

3. He actually doesn't hate the idea and punching Liu Qingge has unlocked a door he doesn't want to acknowledge

So Luo Binghe (with Shen Qingqiu's confused blessing) has to marry Liu Qingge for appearances only

Definitely only for appearances and not for rough sex

#not safe for esmes #svsss #bingliu #bingliushen #fake marriage au #luo binghe #liu qingge

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celenawrites · 7 months

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fake marriage with Ghost on my mind rn...... 'marrying' Simon for a mission or maybe for protection, going undercover with him as you pretend to be his wife and he pretends to be madly in love with you....the domesticity that follows, the way he has his hands on your back as a protective gesture....the way he lends you a jacket when he notices you're cold in your flimsy little dress.....the way he's never had as much fun as he had with you, in a fake marriage of all things.....he cannot help but imagine what it'd be like if he actually was your husband....the fact that you make him wish, yearn to be yours......

#like i have the draft #i have it plotted a bit #i just need time to work on the fic #gods #he calls you like “Mrs. Riley” but only as a way to get under your skin #he's such a lil shit is2g #call of duty #char.simon ghost riley #cod:mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #call of duty ghost #fake marriage au #celena.rambles

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corvase · 1 year

Note

reasons to fake date? (i love your account btw!!)

i love you anon, thank you for both your patience and this message :) feel free to use!

some reasons to fake a relationship

their family has been pressuring them

they have a wedding coming up

they want to make someone jealous

financial ailments, like debt or being unable to make payments (careful with this, as it creates a negative power dynamic)

their job requires it, i.e. going undercover or needing people to leave them alone in the workplace

they’re meeting someone from their past and need to appear dating to them

^ bonus if they used to date and for some reason they need to look like they’re still dating

PUBLICITY STUNT!!!!! yes i’m a celebrity yes i just met u woukd u like to date me for two months plz i’m begging ??!?!?!

short term dating reasons, such as:

^ there’s a couples discount and i cannot stand you but i really want these beignets so plz hold my hand and gaze lovingly into my eyes

i need this rando to leave me alone so pretend you’re in love with me

it’s also really fun or beautiful if one is doing it because they have to, and the other just wishes they got out into the dating world more and just want to. then we can see that change throughout the story.

#reasons to fake date #fake dating prompts #fake marriage prompts #writing advice #writeblr #writing #writing prompts #writing romance #dialogue prompts #romance prompts #romance writing prompts #imagine your otp #imagine your ship #fake dating au #fake marriage au #fake a relationship

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distortionbobble · 9 months

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Royal Flowers Chapter 4

series masterlist

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pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!reader

series summary: A long, long, time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, a certain Jedi by the name of Anakin Skywalker meets you, the current Queen of Naboo and cousin of Padme Amidala, and is tasked with protecting you by pretending to marry you. As a spy, you’ve infiltrated the Separatist ranks and are close to finding out the mastermind behind all of it. The fate of the galaxy is in your hands.

warnings: minors dni! ageless blogs dni! none this chapter but the series will have eventual smut, canon-level violence and just general warnings.

It’s been a week since you and Anakin last spoke. Or even made eye contact, really. Everytime that your eyes accidentally lock, you both whip your heads the other way, awkwardly remembering the closeness between the two of you. You know it’s wrong— newlyweds shouldn’t be playing bashful lovers, but goodness, his mouth on your skin in such an intimate manner had lingered in your thoughts for far too long.

You haven’t even trained since that first day, forced to attempt the moves in the shower or the privacy of your dressing room on your own. And though Anakin shares the bed with you, he sneaks in when he thinks you’re asleep and is sure to leave before you wake.

Fortunately, you’ve been kept totally busy— the Sandtek Corporation has drafted a new agreement to supply Naboo’s military with modified Skyflippers, and as Queen, it’s your responsibility to read all of the agreement conditions before approving it. Unfortunately, it’s all piloting jargon, and it’s all flying over your head. You sit at the desk in the palace library with your head in your hands, groaning at the mess of paperwork before you before thumping your head on the polished wood. Reyna, your body double, is busy attending some publicity event— a celebration for the royalty thrown by the agricultural sector. Since you didn’t need to be doing anything there, it was decided that she’ll go while you look over the policies. You know the Separatists want you to agree to it, but you can’t for the life of you figure out why. After all, their entire mission is to weaken Naboo, bring it on the brink of collapse to sow their own seeds of chaos. There had to be something you were missing— exactly what was it?

You’re still reading the paperwork hopelessly when the door to the library creaks open, and Anakin slides in, unaware of your presence. When he does finally notice you he freezes, the stiffness detected from the corner of your eyes. He holds his hand up quickly— likely that noise bubble thing he’d mentioned earlier— before he speaks.

“Sorry for the intrusion, milady,” He says rather awkwardly. Anakin’s metal fingers trails against the books as he searches for something. “Just looking for a book.” You snort almost instinctively in response.

“I didn’t know you could read,” you quip slyly, fixing your gaze on the papers before you as a smirk creeps across your face. Anakin remains in a stunned silence before a short chuckle escapes him, spreading to a full-bodied laugh as the awkwardness of the past week leaves the two of you. You’re both so desperate for companionship that it just makes sense.

“Funny, milady,” he says, making his way to the desk. “Might I ask what you’re reading?”

“Oh, Maker, what a good question, Anakin,” you sigh dramatically. “Something about skycraft.” At this, he perks up.

“Skycraft? Might I take a look?” When you nod your approval, he comes to stand beside you, leaning over you as he looks at the blueprints for the modifications of the Skyflippers. “No, that’s not right,” he murmurs, grabbing the blueprints in his confusion as you watch him.

“What is it?”

“These modifications, they’re… all in the wrong place for battle,” Anakin insists. “They’ve gone and reinforced all the parts that don’t need reinforcing, parts that skycraft can return back home with blast holes through them. Meanwhile, the combustive parts of the skycraft are left vulnerable. One well-placed blast and the whole thing goes boom.” Oh. That’s why they wanted you to approve it so badly.

“Shit,” you voice, to which Anakin nods.

“Shit, indeed.”

“Okay, how do you know all of this?” you ask, spinning the chair to face him. He smiles down at you cockily, and you almost want to laugh.

“Well, my queen, if you must know, you’re looking at the best pilot in the entire galaxy,” Anakin says, bowing exaggeratedly when you giggle.

“Is that so, Anakin Lars?” You tease. He holds a hand to his chest, affronted by the notion that he would lie about such a thing. “Well, then, come help me look over these papers,” you say, getting up from the chair to sit on the desk. Your legs dangle freely and you can’t help the overwhelming feeling of relief. Anakin talking to you again, and this whole mess of skycraft resolved? It’s a rare win, and it’s one that you’re going to relish as long as possible.

You take the moment of peace to study Anakin, who’s poring over the agreement and leaving inky comments and scratches all over the paperwork. The bright sunlight streaming in from outside is softened by the wooden shelving of the room, bouncing and scattering and you’re reminded once again of how pretty Anakin is. His face is screwed in concentration, his tongue pressed against his teeth in a manner so endearing that you can’t help but smile. It’s nice to have a friend after so many years of loneliness.

When he’s finished, he looks at you, beaming, and hands you the marked-up blueprint.

“These modifications should actually help the defense sector,” Anakin confirms.

“I’ll have to make sure I can submit the modifications without the Separatists realizing that I made the modifications,” you muse out loud. “We should create a new blueprint that seems to match this one, but actually reflects the modifications you made.” Anakin nods, rifling through the desk to produce a piece of paper identical to the blueprints and begins transcribing the design. You remain where you are, grabbing sheets of policy work and reading through it, occasionally plucking the pen from Anakin’s hand to use it for signatures. Anakin’s quick in realizing that he can help you with other work, and you share the work with him happily.

“Y’know, Anakin,” you say as the two of you wrap up all of your work hours later, “It must get boring with nothing to do in the palace.” He nods in confirmation, stretching and sighing when his joints pop. “I wouldn’t mind it if you wanted to join me for my work,” you say with a slight smile. Anakin’s analytical mind impressed you, and you enjoyed not feeling so lonely. Maybe that was just a lot of words to say that you like having him around.

You walk out of the library with him, the two of you sharing a smile that feels like a secret. Right now feels like a bubble that you want to put in your pocket to be able to pull out whenever you’re feeling blue.

It’s a far cry from a friendship but there’s respect and trust, and that makes you feel safe for the first time in a long time.

~~~

Anakin wakes up while you’re still asleep.

Last night was… nice. The two of you ate your dinner in the grand dining hall, making pleasant casual conversation until your plates were bare, and had then gone to bed rather unceremoniously. But you thought he was smart. It was an incredible feeling, to have earned your respect by virtue of his interest in flying. And Maker, you looked so impressed when he had done all that work with the Skyflippers. It was kind of addicting, the sight of your approving smile. He can’t wait to impress you more and watch your face light up in excitement. Anakin can’t remember the last time he had truly earned someone else’s approval like that— it usually came as a default response to knowing he’s the Chosen One. Anakin thinks he likes this a lot better.

He knows he should wake you up for training, as it’s been at least a week, but he doesn’t want to right now— for now, he wants to enjoy the quiet. You’re facing him as you sleep, and he’s careful to watch you in case you wake up, but you’re fast asleep, the rise of your chest slow and exhales soft. But he keeps staring, anyway. Anakin’s transfixed by the glow of your skin in the early morning sun, the tranquility of your face, the curve of your nose, the shape of your lips. You’re like artwork, and promises that he’ll only look at you for a moment longer.

Your hand is splayed out between his body and yours, and it almost makes Anakin feel like you’re almost reaching out to him in your dreams. Slowly, carefully, Anakin reaches to you, laying his palm flat on the mattress next to yours. His fingers are curled, but if he straightened them by just a hair, he’d be touching your hand. The thought of it makes his heart race wildly, and Anakin feels genuinely confused. He doesn’t know why that thought makes his face warm, but it does, and with every passing second he just wants to do it more and more. But he’s torn— why does it feel like a betrayal to Padme? His heart belongs to Padme, he knows that. And this is just a friendly gesture. It means nothing, he’s just so starved for touch that the brush of his pinky against yours would satiate him. Anakin breathes in deeply, mustering all his courage before he straightens out his fingers and his body positively hums at the subtle contact. Every doubt in his mind goes silent, all of his thoughts giving way for him to keep his fingers extended just enough to feel your warmth just barely against his. His hand trembles at the effort, but he forces it to stay like that, letting his eyes close as he finally surrenders to you.

Anakin doesn’t keep track of how long he stays like this, listening to the soft sound of your breathing before you begin to rouse. He hears you but doesn’t move, keeping his breaths measured so that he thinks you’re asleep. He feels you pause when you see your barely-connected hands and his pulse pounds loudly in anticipation— will you rip your hand away? Or will you just move it so that it’s still in his reach but not touching him?

You don’t do either of those things. Instead, you sit up and move the blankets off of your body with your other hand, maintaining the position of your hand. Anakin has to fight to keep the smile off of his face, still pretending to be asleep. Your fingers flex slightly towards his before you move away, presumably to get ready for the day. But that action, subtle as it may have been, exhilarates Anakin. And though he can’t quite figure out why, he allows himself to enjoy the feeling, stretching his arm to brush where you’ve left a warm imprint in the sheets. He’ll get up soon, but he allows himself this luxury. There’s a lingering guilt, something about his feelings for Padme, which forces him to sit up and wrench his hand away. You step out of the bathroom now, the very picture of elegance and grace and it makes him feel even worse when you murmur a polite good morning with a smile tugging at your lips. He thins his lips in response and nods, heart sinking to his stomach when your smile falls and you nod, saying nothing of his distant behavior. He hates himself for pushing you away but his commitment to Padme still eats at him, even if it’s a labor of hopeless devotion.

He can’t just give up on Padme. She was the love of his life. It would be wrong to treat you in any way that would hint on some sort of reliance— emotionally, all he needs is Padme, but he doesn’t even have that now. He can’t treat you as some sort of stand-in for her; you’ll never be her, and you’re just a companion, anyway. But it’s too soon to think of all of that. He’s still so distraught over her and he can picture her in your place, smiling and leaning against the door with her hair cascading past her shoulders. Padme. His love. His light. He’s so lost in the memory of her that he misses you calling his name repeatedly, forcing you to come over and jolt his shoulder to force him to look at you.

“Anakin.” Your greeting is colder than how things were yesterday but Anakin doesn’t blame you. It’s better off this way, anyways. “Will you be helping me today with the paperwork?” And though Anakin wants to be cautious of getting too close with you, he nods, too fulfilled by having some sort of task to do to shoot down the opportunity. You smile at him before you turn to leave the chambers, snapping your fingers when you remember something. “Oh, and one more thing, Anakin,” you say. “I’ve been advised by some of the palace staff that it would be a good idea to arrange some sort of public outing, to show our faces to the public and solidify our relationship. I’ve decided to combine that with an advertisement for Sandtek, and since you’re a pilot, I decided to make that outing one where you can fly their Skyflipper. So….” you drawl, watching his face for his reaction. “I guess I’ll see you at noon, then.”

“See you then, milady,” he nods.

Well, so long for distancing himself.

~~~

The ride to the field is short, and you keep the silence filled with some tunes on the radio. Anakin recognizes it as the Max Rebo band and is surprised to see how much you engage with the music, tapping your feet and humming the parts that you’re familiar with. He finds it endearing, even if he associates the Max Rebo Band with the Hutts. He tries to mimic your carefree enjoyment, watching you from the corner of his eye and trying to nod his head to the beat. He likes how fun you are, and laughs to himself when you start humming the chorus a beat earlier than it starts.

“You ever heard of the Max Rebo band, Anakin?” You ask, stretching your back against the transporter wall. He has, even heard them live in the Hutt Palace when he was very very young and Gardulla the Hutt held his mother and himself as a slave. But that’s a bit of a mood-downer so he chooses not to divulge that little tidbit.

“They’re the most popular band in the galaxy. How couldn’t I have heard it?” He says.

“Oh, y’know. I just kind of assumed that the Jedi don’t do anything fun,” you tease, making him grin.

“As if you know what fun is,” Anakin scoffs, eagerly anticipating your reaction. The banter between you is fun, friendly. The way it should be between the two of you. He tries to wipe the feelings from this morning from his mind as he watches your face light up in playful offense.

“Excuse me? I’m way more fun than you!” You proclaim, jabbing your finger at him. He notes that the transport is at its destination so he hops up from the seat, offering his hand for your disembarkment.

“We’ll see about that,” Anakin grins. The doors of the transport hiss open and you stand with Anakin, hand in hand as you face the eagerly awaiting crowd. For some reason, with all of the eyes on you two, the intimacy of your hand against his is lost, and he wonders if he had just imagined what he’d felt this morning. Amongst the crowd is a gaggle of reporters, videoing the two of you. He realizes it must be Sandtek publicity, using the Queen’s endorsement to convince more people to buy their products or recruit more workers. Either way, effective.

Anakin’s excitement takes over entirely when he sees the modified skycraft— it’s been so long since he was able to fly, and he can’t wait to show off his skills to you. He pulls you through the crowd, smiling and waving at them before he’s at the ramp of the Skyflipper. His racing heart excites him, makes him bolder and brash, so he turns around to face the reporters and swoops you off of your feet, carrying you bridal style and placing a kiss to your cheek. His strength makes it easy to carry you, and it’s worth it to see the shocked delight on your face. Good for the publicity, right? That’s what he tells himself, but he’s not sure how much he actually believes that.

“Anakin, put me down!” you giggle once the ramp’s up, and it’s just the two of you. Anakin quirks a brow before he lets go of you completely, using the Force to make you hover just an inch before you would hit the floor.

“C’mon, princess, your romantic date awaits you!” Anakin hollers as he leaves you there. He’s plenty of fun, and by the end of this date you’ll know that too.

He makes sure that you’re fully strapped in before he begins your ascent, the familiarity of flying makes him feel at home. Before long, you’re coasting through the clouds in a peaceful silence as Anakin concentrates. You’re humming a tune aimlessly, drumming your fingers on your seat as you watch Naboo fly past from inside the glass paneling.

“Oh look, it’s a herd of Shaak!” You gasp suddenly, awwing at the gentle beasts as they graze on rolling hills of lush green grass. Anakin thinks of when he’d gone to a place just like this with Padme, the painful memory cutting through his throat and he speeds past the fields. You fly past hundreds of fields, roads and villages, and Anakin can sense the emotions rolling off of you as you survey your domain and the vastness of it all. Your people.

“This is why I love flying so much,” Anakin says quietly. “All of your problems don’t seem so important.”

“It all seems so far away,” you sigh, exhaling on the glass and drawing little patterns in it with a light finger. He takes a second to look back at you in the seat— happy, peaceful, and it’s because of him, because of what he’s showing you with his skills. Anakin feels that familiar glow within him, one that he tries to tamp down but can’t stop the smile that he allows himself at the thought of making you happy.

“Are you all strapped in, milady?” He asks, turning forwards again. Anakin routes the craft back to where your original transport waits; he knows you’ve spent enough time in the skies with him,

“What tricks have you got up your sleeve?” You ask suspiciously, followed by the telltale click of metal sliding into metal that cues Anakin to speed all the way up. You shriek when the resisting force pulls your body back, watching everything become a blur as Anakin tests just how fast the Skyflipper can go.

“Maker, Anakin!” You shout, laughing.

“Oh, I’m not quite done yet,” He responds before making the plane spin upside-down. He flies the Skyflipper in quick, tight circles, laughing at your delighted noises.

“Okay, maybe you do know how to have fun,” You admit as the skycraft touches down, your clothes in disarray from Anakin’s wild flying. You straighten them out as best you can and smile up at Anakin when he offers you his arm, the two of you walking out together.

“A successful date, then?” He asks you, bringing his arm around you and kissing your temple sweetly in front of everyone. “A successful date, indeed,” you smile.

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umhuhwellthen · 2 months

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The duality of woman, or something

Fake Marriage AU rattling in my brain

I'm playing around with ibispaint brushes and features! Tried to do a shoujo kiss background for the second drawing but it's a bit hit or miss for me :/

Oh well experimenting means rolling with it and figuring out what does and doesn't work along the way

#usagi yojimbo #miyamoto usagi #tomoe ame #kenichi #mariko #tomoe ame usagi yojimbo #kenichi usagi yojimbo #mariko usagi yojimbo #fake marriage au #usagi yojimbo fake marriage au

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harrywavycurly · 10 months

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Fake Husband Eddie Part 2: Meeting Someone?

Part 1: here

Part 3: here

Tag List: @alana4610 @fluentmoviequoter @alicentswife @vivalasv3gan @goth-cowgirl-03 @yujyujj @slowgabinaburninroom @zaddyskye69

TW: Cursing and drinking

A/N: Before you all come for me don’t worry there is a part 3 and it’s the final part of this little trilogy lol also idk why I added in Frank and the Hideout backstory it was just something that was sitting in the back of my mind and it fit. Anywayyyy enjoy!!✨

You smooth out the front of your shirt as you sit down on one of the worn out barstools at the back of the Hideout. It’s been exactly a week since you met Eddie and it only felt right that the two of you have your first official date at the bar you met at. Over the span of a week you two have gotten to know each other quite well, you learned that Eddie would much rather FaceTime you than text you because he likes to hear your voice, especially your laugh he loves how it sounds even through the phone. You also learned that he loves his job, he works at the garage in town and he’s always got his head under someone’s hood fixing a transmission or tinkering with a stubborn fuel line.

Eddie has learned things about you as well, he knows that you like to read before bed and he doesn’t know why but it shocked him a bit to learn the two of you have a few books in common on your bookshelves. He notices things like how you try to hide your face when you’re smiling and he just assumes that’s something you’ve always done but he’s made a mental note to try to remind you how pretty you are when you smile because it’s really one of his favorite things to see. You go on little rants about things that have bothered you during the day and he loves how passionate you get because your arms go everywhere and you also always end it with “you know what I mean?” and even if he has no clue he can’t help but smile and just nod and reassure you that yes he knows what you mean.

The two of you have grown close over the past several days and you’ve started to develop a rather large crush on the long haired metal head. Luckily for you though Eddie made his feelings known the night he drove you home from the hideout.

“You know what?” You turn your head and look at Eddie who’s smiling at you as he watches you reach for the handle of the passenger side door of his van.

“What?” Eddie leans over his middle console so he can tuck a few stay hairs behind your ear making you blush as you feel his hand brush against your cheek.

“I think I like you.” You raise an eyebrow at him as you playfully glare at him making him laugh.

“You think?” You tease as Eddie reaches for your hand that has his skull ring on it, you smile as you watch him twirl it around your finger since it’s a little too big for you but you like how it feels so you haven’t taken it off.

“Sorry sweetheart.” He looks up at you as you find yourself leaning into him. “I know I like you.” He adds right before he places a kiss to your lips making you smile as he pulls away.

The sound of a glass being set down in front of you jolts you out of your daydream as you blink a few times before looking around to see if Eddie has shown up yet. You look at your phone and see it’s only ten minutes past six, the time you both agreed to meet so you just brush it off to him being a little late and look up to see the bartender cleaning a few glasses in front of you.

“What can I get ya?” Frank the bartender and half owner of the Hideout asks as he gives you a smile. “I make a mean martini.” He jokes as he shoots you a playful wink making you laugh.

“Uh I’ll just have a vodka tonic please.” He nods and starts making your drink. “Have you worked here a while?” You ask trying to make small talk to help the time pass before Eddie shows up and this is only the second time you’ve ever been here so might as well get to know the bartenders.

“You could say that.” Frank answers as he slides your drink in front of you. “I’m Frank and I may not look it but I’m one of the Hideout's original customers.” You just nod your head encouraging him to continue as you take a sip of your drink, Frank is an older gentleman with long gray hair he has tucked into a low pony on the back of his neck and a few tattoos scattered around his forearms that are only visible because he has his flannel rolled up to his elbows. “I helped them name this place because we used to meet here back in the day when it wasn’t actually a bar, to hideout from people we didn’t want to see or nagging wives we were avoiding so when they wanted to turn it into a bar I said why not just call it the Hideout?” Frank explained and you couldn’t help but giggle at the mention of avoiding nagging wives.

“It’s a great name.” You watch him smile as he looks around the bar to see if anyone needs anything.

“Meeting someone?” Frank asks as he glances down at the giant skull ring on your ring finger.

“Uh yeah.” You’re not sure how to answer his question so you just go with your gut. “My husband actually.” Frank just smiles and nods as he goes back to cleaning glasses as you slowly sip on your drink as you anxiously look at your phone again and let out a sigh when you see it’s now six thirty.

Eddie is elbows deep in a minivan’s engine that is just refusing to let him get his fingers in the correct place to install a new part. He lets out a frustrated groan as he takes a step back from the van and places his grease covered hands on his hips and closes his eyes and looks up towards the ceiling of the garage. He wonders for a moment what you’re going to wear on your date with him tonight, he’s had tonight circled on his calendar all week and he’d be lying if he didn’t say he even added little hearts to it and everything.

“Why do all minivans have to be so damn stubborn?” He mumbles as he opens his eyes and takes a step closer to the van. “I’m just trying to help you.” He explains as he uses his wrist to wipe some sweat off his brow, as he drops it back down to his side he feels his whole world begin to move in slow motion when he catches the time on his watch. “Oh fuck fuck fuck.” He drops the wrench in his left hand and heads for the break room of the garage.

“Eddie?” Greg the parts guy asks as Eddie rushes past him so he can grab his stuff from his locker.

“I’m late!” Eddie shouts over his shoulder as he heads for the door. He quickly jumps into his van and starts the engine as he digs around in his bag for his phone. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding.” He groans when he sees his phone is on 10% battery because he forgot to put it on the charger after falling asleep on FaceTime with you last night. He looks at the clock and silently prays to whoever it is that might be listening to let you still be waiting for him even though it’s well after eight at night and he was supposed to meet you at six.

“Shit shit.” He presses your name in his phone and it rings once before his whole screen goes black meaning his phone is dead. “Fuck!” Eddie feels like his heart is in his stomach as he pulls out of the parking lot of his work and heads straight for the Hideout.

He doesn’t look for your car in the bar’s parking lot because he knows you planned to get dropped off so he could just take you home. He not so gently snatches his keys from the ignition after putting it in park and slams his door closed as he exits the van. He ignores the looks he’s getting form the men outside smoking as he rushes into the bar, he’s sure he looks like he’s lost with his work overalls on tied around his waist and his hair in a messy bun and grease stains everywhere. Frank turns when he hears the door open and he raises an eyebrow at Eddie when he lets out a sigh at all the empty seats in the back of the bar, exactly where you told him you’d be so he could meet you.

“Looking for your wife?” Eddie looks at the bartender and nods his head because you’d been jokingly calling yourself his wife all week so of course you’d tell the bartender you were waiting for your husband. Frank tosses something at Eddie and when he catches it and sees what it is he feels his heart break a bit. “Left about an hour ago.” He adds as Eddie stares at the skull ring that’s sitting in the palm of his hand.

“Oh no.” And with that Eddie turns on his heels and runs straight back out to the parking lot towards his van because no way is he letting him being an idiot be the reason you two end things.

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celestie0 · 4 days

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fake marriage au debut today @ 5pm PST!!

hellooooooooo my loveessss :''') just wanted to say fake marriage au has been queued for 5pm PST!! still working on editing it a little bit and also i still have to come up with a title LOL but yee i cut the chap a little short cuz IM TIIRREEDDD but's still a decent length around 7.5k words!!! im so excited!! i had sm fun writing the first chap lol

#IM GAGGED AT HOW MANY PPL WANTED TO BE ON TAGLIST IMMA KISS U ALL #FRFR #n e waaysss back to editing i goooo #fake marriage au #gojo x reader

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thatmexisaurusrex · 10 months

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For @livingincolorsagain because your spiel made me laugh 😂

*Sam and Bucky, visiting Steve on the moon*

Sam: I know Sarah was like, "Maybe you guys should take a few improv classes," but who needs that? We can think of a prank on the fly for Steve when we find him. Bucky: It's going to be so funny. Steve: I didn't know you two were visiting! What brings you to the moon? Sam: *blurts* We're getting, uh, getting married. Bucky: *pulls Sam dramatically close* Uh, yeah, didn't expect that did you? Steve: *way too genuine* You two always looked like you were having a good time together. I suspected, but I didn't think you two noticed your feelings for each other. Sam: What. Steve: When's the wedding? Bucky: Uh - *looks at Sam* Next year. Still. Looking for a good location???

*Finds location for wedding and books it* *Chooses flowers* *Cake sampling* *Choosing a caterer* *Charlie Day board for napkin and tablecloth swatches* *Survivor-style knockouts for the band* *Choosing the flower kid* *Deciding Redwing will be the ring bearer* *Making Sarah and Steve their Best Lady and Best Man* *Discussing who will marry them* *Nights on end figuring out who sits wear* *Intensely researched registry for wedding gifts* *Professional photoshoot recreating their fake engagement and posting the photos on their new wedding website* *Suit shopping with friends* *Booking a fun honeymoon* *Making sure there are living arrangments for the cats while they're out of town* *Writing Personal Vows* *Discussing last names* *Signing all the legal paperwork and turning it in* *Helping everyone find sleeping arrangements* *Bachelor parties* *Rehearsal night* *Wedding* *Reception* *Honeymoon*

*A year later, on the porch with Sarah, sipping some Arnold Palmers*

Sam: Yeah, we sure pranked Steve well. Bucky: He didn't know what hit him. He was bawling during that best man speech. Sam: The way he hugged us and said it was the most beautiful wedding he'd ever been to and that we deserve a lifetime of happiness? He really got pranked. Sarah: You know, you really didn't need to do any of this. You could have just said it was a joke? *Sam and Bucky stare at one another* *They turn to Sarah* Sam: Nah. This was the only way. Bucky: *holds Sam's hand* Definitely the only way.

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #domestic fluff #crack treated seriously #fake marriage au #turned real marriage #ignore me i’m being goofy

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highqueenofelfhame · 11 months

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a/n: okay so chapter three of this might be up before ten of ciwyw simply because i'm excited about it and it's already like halfway done. i'm sorry if this is disappointing news BUT i promise it's a really really good chapter with delicious content. love u, thank you for reading <3

rowaelin // 5.6k words // skoh masterlist // masterlist

“I wish I could tell you guys about this bullshit, but it’s fucking classified,” Aelin hissed into the cell phone she had sandwiched between her ear and shoulder. To their credit, Elide and Lysandra tried to disguise their laughter on the other end, but it came back muffled all the same. The two were drunk on a beach somewhere in Ellywe, and it showed.

Everyone knew that Aelin joining the Cadre would be a disaster one way or another. When the idea was proposed to her, she turned it down. Three different times. The bad blood with Rowan flowed so deep that she didn’t care about an increase in pay or the less boring missions that came along with it. Truthfully, she would rather be lost in the Staghorns somewhere with Aedion’s unit or back in the desert with the one that showed up to take over for the Cadre.

Yet when Darrow approached her with the idea a fourth time, stressing how much they needed an extra person, she caved. The claims that she was the only person fit for the job had gone to her head a little bit, and it was biting her in the ass. He had even brought in her Uncle Gavriel to talk to her about going. The bastard knew that it would sway her, and it had worked. Now that this mission required them to be married, she was pretty sure it had been in the works for a little longer than they knew, and convincing Aelin to join them was the final piece of the puzzle.

Currently, she was quickly washing her hands in a bathroom at the Rifthold International Airport. The flight had been sixteen hours, and she was desperate for a bath that didn’t require body wipes to make her smell decent. The boys were probably waiting for her, but she didn’t care. Rare was it that she could use her personal phone to call her friends, and godsdammit, she was going to take advantage.

“Is he still an ass?” Lysandra asked as Aelin ripped a few paper towels from the dispenser to dry her hands.

“Of course he is. He has the nerve to act like he’s the one that was scorned! As if I didn’t fight tooth and nail for our relationship to work until the physical and emotional distance was too much to deal with.” She huffed as she poked her bags with her boot, fingers pulling her braid over her shoulder just to have something to do with her hands.

“I mean, you have to come to some sort of truce to make it work,” Elide piped in, crunching sounds filling the space between words while she snacked.

“I know. Gods, I know. It’s just harder than I thought it would be.” Aelin sighed, her chest decompressing as several women scurried into and out of stalls around her. “I should go.”

“Where are you, anyway?” Lys asked.

“I can’t say, but I can allude that I’m closer to home.”

“Can you get a normal job? You coming on vacations would be fun.” Elide’s sad-drunk tendencies were starting to peek through, making Aelin smile.

“If Rowan doesn’t kill me first, I might end my active-duty career as soon as possible after this shit is done.” It was only half a joke. Being this close to Rowan was already far more taxing than she imagined. If anything, she thought they might ignore each other and carry on with their jobs like responsible adults. Sure, she knew her old wounds were tender at best, but the explosive tension was slightly unexpected.

The three muttered their goodbyes as she hefted her bags onto her shoulders and filed out of the bathroom, immediately spotting Lorcan and Rowan’s heads towering over everyone else near the exit to baggage claim. Aelin forced her shoulders back and stood straight as she could.

Approaching Rowan was a battle of its own sort. She had to be ready for a fight constantly. There was just no way of telling if she was walking straight into the line of fire or not.

~*~

The house they would be living in was beautiful. It was a large estate sitting on the cleaner side of the Avery River, nestled back in a little grove of oak trees. A large iron gate kept any outsiders from easily getting onto the property, but it was so far off any main road that they didn’t anticipate trespassers being much of a problem.

Not that it really mattered– every inch of the land surrounding the house was under twenty-four-seven surveillance that they could watch from inside. The day before, a tech team had come in to set up all the equipment they would need for quick and secure communication with their superiors. Though the equipment they used was always the best the Terrasen government had to offer, it was always a little more fun to use when stationed in a big city.

Though the house had six bedrooms, they quickly learned during the initial walk-through that three were being used for mission-related activities. One room comprised a large desk and about a dozen monitors for surveillance; another had enough desk space for all six of them with room to spare, and the third was primarily for communication. It was filled with phones and computers connected to a highly secure network that, in theory, was breach-proof.

That left three rooms for the six of them to divvy into, and Aelin tried to cut the corners of arguing with who was sleeping where by quickly voicing her own option.

“I’ll room with Fenrys. Lorcan and Rowan can share and–”

“No.” Rowan’s response was immediate and flat. A single eyebrow quirked up as she slowly pivoted on one heel to look at him. His eyes, however, were on Fenrys. It had been years, and apparently, their casual affection was still grating on his nerves like soft cheese.

“No?” She questioned, arms folding over her chest. Rowan slid his gaze to her face as the others took a few casual steps away as if they would rather be anywhere but in the middle of their divorced parent’s fight.

“No.” The word was harder, more final this time.

“Fine, you and me then?” She threw a hand in the air for sarcastic flair and laughed sardonically. Surely he would drop his weapons and retreat with arms raised, but he didn’t. It surprised everyone in the room, herself more than the rest.

“Fine.” Shock washed over her in a static wave, running across her body like an electrical current. Everything buzzed from her fingers to her toes as he told no one in particular, “We get the master.”

Nobody was going to disagree with his claim. The two of them needed as much space between them as possible. With all the tension and white-hot energy, they could hardly share a room for meetings, much less a bed. Mala must have boiled his brain to sludge during their stay in the desert. He clearly wasn’t thinking things through.

She was further surprised when he yanked both their bags off the floor where they’d dumped them upon entry and headed toward the north wing of the house. Aelin glanced at Lorcan, hoping he would have something to say on the matter, but he shrugged and grabbed his own bags, shouting that Vaughan was with him as he did. Fenrys, at least, looked as confused as she felt.

“Have fun with… whatever the fuck that was,” Connall told her, the three remaining men collecting their bags from the floor.

“You really put your foot in your mouth this time, didn’t you, babe?” Fen drawled, ruffling her hair and following his brother.

“You’re all traitors!” She called as they dispersed, leaving her to begrudgingly march toward the room Rowan had claimed for them. Their low chuckles followed her down the hall, and she was pretty fucking sure she even heard Lorcan laughing with them.

When she reached the master bedroom, she was pleasantly surprised at the size of it. A king-size bed was centered against one wall, each side with its own lamps and nightstands. The large bay window on the right side had a bench perfect for reading in if she ever found herself with downtime. There were two doors to the left of the bed. One led to a large bathroom with a shower and a huge bathtub that she would most definitely be soaking in soon. The other was a walk-in closet that rivaled the one she had at home.

It was also where she found Rowan.

Each side of the closet had plenty of drawers and space for hanging clothes and a dozen or so cubbies scattered about. Rowan stood to one side, unpacking his clothes and placing them into drawers. She pretended she didn’t notice that he had chosen the left side– the same as when they lived together.

Aelin followed suit, kneeling on the floor by her bag and dividing things amongst her drawers. Since they were in need of civilian attire for the mission, she would be going out to purchase new things sometime tomorrow before the real work began. For now, she just wanted a shower and a nap.

Rowan had slipped out moments before she was finished. Once satisfied with her portion of the closet, she entered the bedroom to find him peering through the curtains, eyes scanning the backyard. He didn’t seem to notice her, or if he did, he chose to say nothing. Taking a deep breath, she wrapped her arms around her body and steeled herself for another fight.

“Is it okay if I shower first?”

“Yep.” His fingers released the curtain, and it slipped shut, the sheer fabric not doing much to shield them from the outside world. Aelin made a mental note to get some blackout curtains tomorrow, both for safety and to keep the early morning sun out when she had the luxury of sleeping past five am.

“Are you sure?” For once, she wasn’t pushing to get on his nerves. If he wanted the bathroom to himself first, she would allow it if it meant no verbal sparring.

“I already said yes, Aelin.” The edge of his words was sharp and short as a brand-new dagger. So much for not fighting.

“You don’t get to do this.” She blurted, fingers gripping her shirt tightly.

“I don’t get to do what, exactly?” Rowan looked at her then, eyebrows slightly raised and shoulders tense. At his sides, his hands were rolling up into fists.

“Be pissy about our sleeping arrangements when you’re the one that booted out my perfectly good option.”

“You were doing it to fuck with me, and I’m not giving you the satisfaction,” he said calmly, taking up a casual fighting stance: feet shoulder-width apart, arms folded over his chest, muscles coiled and ready to strike.

“I was doing it because I highly doubt the other three would want to catch me in any state of undress accidentally, and only me and Connall can handle Fenrys full time,” she shot back. Her fingernails dug into the skin beneath her shirt like they would sew her up if she fell apart. The tendons in Rowan’s neck were visible, hard lines. If she were closer, she would probably be able to see his pulse pounding against his skin. “I don’t know why you think I’m just here to fuck up your life. I didn’t even want this job to begin with.”

Hating that she was the first to retreat, she walked to the closet to gather what she would need for her shower. Footsteps followed her, stopping in the doorway as Rowan asked, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Which part?” Aelin plucked a pair of boring cotton underwear from the drawer.

“That you didn’t want this job.” Selecting a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, she turned to face him with her facial expression calling him ten kinds of stupid.

“It means that I didn’t want this fucking job.” Maybe she drew out every word a little more slowly on purpose to needle beneath his skin. The feathering of his jaw said it worked.

“I understood that part.” He sounded frustrated, his fingernails white where they pressed into his biceps. “You didn’t ask for the transfer?”

“I turned it down three times. In the last few weeks, Darrow was up my ass about it. Even had Uncle Gav try to convince me, so I caved. Did you think I asked for this to come rain a special kind of hell down on your head?”

“I wouldn’t put past you,” he retorted, and something in her broke. Just a little bit.

“Contrary to whatever bullshit you’ve made up about me to craft me into your villain, I was perfectly content to never see you again. I don’t want to work with you, I don’t want to share a single molecule of oxygen with you, and I don’t want to constantly be ready to fight with you at the drop of a hat. This isn’t what I wanted for my career or my personal life. I’m here because I took an oath to protect my country, and despite my multiple refusals, they wanted me here with this unit.” Aelin shoved past him, her shoulder ramming into his arms as she did. “Do us both a favor and get over yourself, Rowan. This self-centered bullshit is exactly why I fucking left you.”

Though she hadn’t meant to be quite so dramatic, the bathroom door slammed in his face when she closed it. The sickly feeling of guilt washed over her at the look on his face. That last hateful sentence wasn’t even supposed to be said out loud. Did she even mean it?

Aelin didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she finally heard his footsteps retreat from the room and a heavy exhale whooshed from her lungs.

~*~

“Aelin, I–” His hands reached for her, but she smacked them away hard enough that it stung his palms.

“No, no, no. I told you a thousand times if you took another deployment, I was done. And there is just no–” Aelin let out a gasping sob, one hand on her heart and the other wrapped around her torso. Unable to stop himself, he tried to pull her to him. If he could just calm her down, it would be okay.

Before his fingers could even graze her skin, she stumbled backward. A gust of wind had rain blowing at him from behind. He wasn’t sure if his face was wet with tears from his eyes or the sky.

“Baby–” The back of Aelin’s wrist pressed to her mouth and did nothing to muffle the sob. Knowing he was the source of her pain had him wishing for a lightning strike.

“There is no coming back from this.” The words were almost carried away in the storm. Not once had he ever heard her speak so softly, so broken. Tears streamed down her cheeks and neck, soaking the collar of her t-shirt while she shook her head and pointed for him to leave with a shaky finger. Her other hand was still pushing her heart back into her chest. “There is no coming back.”

The front door slammed in his face and triggered a final fissure in his heart that had his heart and soul shattering into a million jagged pieces on the rain-soaked ground.

A firm hand on his shoulder made him jerk forward, twisting on his heel. A soldier through and through, he started to go on the defensive. Just as he reached for his attacker, he realized it was Lorcan and dropped his hands, shaking his head to clear his mind of the memory.

Lorcan’s eyebrows knit together in confusion as he said, “I said your name twice.”

“Sorry. What’s up?” Rowan hadn’t meant to be so wrapped up in his thoughts as he stood on the back porch. A mirror image of the gloomy gray sky reflected on the surface of the swimming pool. The sound of the door slamming in his face still echoed in his ears, but he didn’t know if it was the past or present that haunted him. Probably both.

“I want to go over what needs to be done this week,” Lorcan told him, nodding toward the house. Through the windows, he could see everyone lounging on the couches and chairs that made up the formal living room. Each of them held a folder; Aelin’s was in her lap, where she curled up in the corner of the couch. Deft fingers twined her damp hair into a braid over her shoulder. Lorcan’s eyes followed his gaze as he braced his hands on his hips. “Do you need to talk about it before we go in?”

“I don’t know what there is to say.”

“Look, I am by no means any sort of authority on relationships, but the fact that you two can barely be in the same room without starting a fight shows how deep it all goes. You sure as fuck aren’t over it–” Lorcan gave him a stern look when he opened his mouth to object, then continued, “And neither is she. You can both act like you don’t care, but you do. At some point, an olive branch needs to be extended one way or the other. Otherwise, it will stack up to messy mistakes in the field and you’ll both drag everyone else down with you. I can’t allow that. So find a truce. Wave your white flag if you fucking have to. Talk about it. Fuck it out. I don’t care. But don’t let it compromise the job.”

Rowan nodded, hands sliding into his pockets as he took a deep breath. All of those things were easier said than done. If they were ever going to talk it out, they would both have to come to some peace with the past and present. Right now, he wasn’t sure how to do that. His behavior had clearly torn into her with a jagged blade, the same way her leaving him did. Both had raw, gaping wounds that were still bloody from the battle. The time apart had done nothing to heal either of them. If anything, it made it worse.

There wasn’t ever supposed to be so much distance, time, or emotion stretched between them, to begin with. Rowan could strut around like he didn’t care all he wanted to, but he did care. Looking at her made it hard to breathe.

“Did you ever, at any point in your relationship, tell her about what happened to Lyria?” Lorcan asked, just as Rowan took a step toward the house. His teeth snapped together so hard that it hurt, narrowly missing a bite of his tongue. “Maybe start there.”

“I don’t think it would matter at this point.”

“Not that I don’t think she’s a swaggering asshole ninety-nine percent of the time or anything–” Rowan snorted, looking back at Aelin through the window. She was looking back. “– But she isn’t a bitch. Not all the time, anyway.”

Part of him wanted to throttle Lorcan for talking about her that way, but their personalities had always been mixing oil and water. Even still, Lorcan would never hold his personal relationship against her. She was far too good of an asset.

“Can I ask something of you?” Rowan inquired, restlessly scratching the back of his neck. His eyes didn’t leave Aelin’s, and she tilted her head curiously. Almost as if, despite their fight, she was trying to inquire if he was okay.

“Of course.” Rowan sidestepped out of view, not wanting her to read his lips as he looked at his commander. Lorcan leaned against the table that decorated the patio, an open and caring demeanor slipping into place.

“If anything on this mission goes sideways, if it ever comes down to a split second when it has to be her or me… I don’t care if it’s a temporary thing where you come back for me later or we’re both bleeding out somewhere, whatever the situation is. If shit goes down and it’s her or me, you take her.” Green eyes bore fiercely into onyx ones. Lorcan’s eyes widened in surprise and something that looked a little like fear.

“Rowan…” He wasn’t one to leave a man behind, but Rowan knew all too well that sometimes it became a necessary call to make. When forced with a split-second decision about who lived or died, the luxury of time to juggle your choices didn’t always exist. This oath would take the struggle out of it.

“Promise me that you will get her out first.” He hated the way his voice cracked like the fissures in his heart. Hated that he was prepared to fall to his knees and beg if it might save her life at any point in the future. Yet he knew that he would if Lorcan refused. The bad terms he and Aelin were on didn’t matter. Rowan would never forgive himself or his comrades if he woke up and something had happened to her. “Promise me, Lorcan.”

He wished he could tell himself it was for selfish reasons. That he was asking to clear his conscience should it ever become a reality. Deep down, he knew it had nothing to do with that, though. It had nothing to do with guilt and everything to do with her and the wildfire of unresolved feelings that haunted his waking and sleeping hours.

Rowan tried to get over her. Attempting to lose himself through sex with other women had been a fruitless endeavor. No amount of boiling showers had made him feel clean, like any level of intimacy with someone that wasn’t Aelin left behind an oily residue he couldn’t wash away. After the third time, he quit trying. It felt too much like cheating on her, like betraying her, even if she had been the one to leave him.

He had followed her career over the last two and a half years. Though she had passed on another deployment when she thought he would too, months after the breakup, he heard she was back in it. Lorcan had passed him details of her missions, and Rowan had a mental list of every injury she had ever received. Nothing had been remotely close to life-threatening, but he felt every one of those wounds like they’d happened to him. It had been difficult not to follow up with her directly to see if she was okay, but she was better off without him. Of that, he was certain.

Being part of the same unit, he would do whatever he could to protect her. It hadn’t surprised Lorcan when Rowan declared he would always choose her first the morning she arrived. The commander made him swear that it wouldn’t compromise any missions, and it wouldn’t. But for Rowan, if the choice were anyone else or Aelin, he would save Aelin first. Now he needed to be sure someone else would choose her over him.

“Okay. I promise,” Lorcan finally swore, his eyes saying that he hoped for all the world it never came down to it.

When they made their way inside, there were two seats available. One was smack dab between Aelin and Fenrys; the other was an overstuffed chair near the window. Rowan knew for a fact that the two blondes had been sitting side by side moments earlier and knew that one or both of them had done this on purpose. They lived in a constant state of scheming and had been driving Rowan insane from the moment their friendship began.

Lorcan hijacked the chair, which left Rowan to drop onto the sofa between Bonnie and Clyde. He swore the commander was fighting off his smirk while settling into the chair away from the drama. Bastards. All of them were bastards. It was starting to feel like everyone had been part of a private meeting on the best ways to drive Rowan insane with Aelin around.

“Here,” Aelin said softly, nudging his arm with a folder. Nodding his thanks, he flipped it open and began skimming the pages while Lorcan got into what the next few days would look like. Every breath he took was more shallow than it needed to be, but he would lose his mind if he inhaled deep enough to smell her jasmine shampoo.

He tried to focus on Lorcan’s words, but sitting beside Aelin was a distraction in itself. The promise their commander had just made soothed a small part of his chest, even if he thought she would throttle him if she ever found out about it. The woman beside him was more than capable of taking care of herself, yes, but Rowan needed that security blanket to fall back on if things went to hell.

Aelin nudged him with her elbow, and he blinked, looking into her quizzical gaze. It was strange to find a hint of concern hidden behind the brilliant band of gold around her iris. With a shake of his head, he looked at the folder in his lap and tuned his ears to Lorcan’s voice. Right. Now was definitely not the time to think about this.

They would start by surveilling the notorious Glass Castle. It was imperative they find out how easily the outside guards could be distracted and bribed. While they had inside contacts close to the prince working with them under extremely delicate conditions, they needed to see if anyone was willing to waver. Finding the weak links could lead to it all being over before an assassination attempt began.

The Prince’s closest and really only friend was his captain of the guard. Through their contacts, he agreed to work with them on the castle’s blueprints and help them however he could. If everything went smoothly, nobody would die, lose their jobs, or be accused of treason, and in the process, their president would be safe from the fallout.

“We need to take passport photos in the morning, and someone is coming by tomorrow afternoon to stage some pictures of our Duke and Duchess over here.” Rowan and Aelin’s heads both snapped up at neck-breaking speed.

“What?” Rowan said, eyes darting to Aelin. There was no way in hell she would be okay with this.

“All of the royals in Fenharrow have websites,” she answered for Lorcan. “Do I get to wear a pretty gown?”

“You’ll wear whatever shows up, and you won’t give anybody any shit about it,” was the commander’s flat response. Aelin’s smoldering gaze told him she would do as she pleased, but her eyes wandered back down to the pages in her lap. If the wardrobe weren’t to her taste, they would surely hear about it no matter what Lorcan said.

“Box dye is going to absolutely ruin our hair.” Rowan didn’t know anything about that. According to his passport, he had blonde hair and brown eyes. Curiosity got the better of him, and he leaned a little toward Aelin to see what hers said. With a flick of her wrist, it was turned toward him so he could see better. Red hair, green eyes. Rowan had a hard time imagining it.

“Are you going to complain the whole time?” Lorcan snapped. Aelin, to her credit, grinned.

“Maybe. It’s fun getting under everyone’s skin so easily.”

It felt like a jab with one of the daggers she favored. A quick stab into his back, the twist of the blade as it sunk deeper. Rowan sat up straight and tried to keep from crumpling the papers in his hands.

It might not be an outright bloody war, but every vaguely altruistic word that left her mouth made him tenser than any gunfight ever did.

~*~

A book lay open upon the pillow in her lap, eyes skimming the pages when Rowan soundlessly opened the door and slipped into their room. He was clearly hoping she would be asleep when he came to bed to avoid any awkward interactions or heated arguments. Aelin was too tired for anything beyond a few pulled punches tonight and closed her book. The t-shirt he wore was pulled over his head in a single, fluid motion, and he slipped between the sheets. After placing her nightly read on the bedside table, she snuggled under the blankets. Rowan was on his back staring at the fan when she turned her light off. Aelin lay on her side, facing him straight on.

“This is… weird,” he admitted as the air deflated from his lungs in a deep sigh.

“Sleeping together or, however fake it may be, being married to me when you never wanted it in the first place?” Aelin wasn’t sure why flames kept spewing out of her mouth every time they spoke. Closure was what she was after, yet she knew it wouldn’t come this way. It was more of a defense mechanism than anything else.

“We aren’t doing this tonight, Aelin. I’m tired.” Rowan rolled onto his side, facing away from her, hand smacking at his pillow before he settled against it.

Through the dim moonlight slipping through those sheer curtains, she could make out the scars on his back. Some she knew, others she didn’t. Without thinking, she reached out and touched one she didn’t recognize. Rowan’s inhale was sharp, shoulders expanding and muscles tightening beneath her fingers. As tense as he was, his body betrayed him in the form of goose flesh over his skin.

“Rowan?” Aelin must have been imagining his jagged breaths. It sounded too much like shredding self-control to be real.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. For today, I’m sorry.” Doused in a burning tension, she traced her fingers over another pale scar on his back. Tears pricked her eyes over the featherlight touches she made, at the emotion that welled up in her throat. This sort of casual intimacy used to be second nature. Aelin hated that her fingers craved to touch more of him, all of him. They never thought about touching before; they just always were. It had once been necessary, vital even. Now he was a coiled asp ready to strike, waiting for the fighting words she couldn’t find.

“Okay,” he finally whispered back on an exhale.

“I didn’t mean to slam the door, either. I know you won’t believe me, but I–”

“I do believe you.” Her throat was suddenly tight as she swallowed, dropping her hand from his back. Sometime soon, she would ask how he got those new markings. Maybe Fenrys would have the answers if her cowardice won over and she couldn’t ask him herself.

“Okay,” she parroted, the word muffled by the blanket as she pulled it up and tucked her face into it.

Seconds stretched into minutes before he rolled onto his back, head turning to face her. With her eyes more adjusted to the dark, she could tell he was looking at her. They didn’t say anything, just took each other in. It was the first quiet moment they’d shared since her arrival. Somehow, the heaviness of this moment was far more abundant than the times they were yelling.

“Were you talking about me when you said it’s fun to get under our skin?”

“I’ve always liked getting under your skin,” she teased, but he didn’t smile. Aelin’s own faltered, mouth twisted to the side as she considered it. Yes, she had. “It is fun but… I didn’t mean it quite how it sounded. I haven’t been picking fights with you the last few days for shits and giggles. I’m sure you aren’t doing it for that reason either.”

It’s what she wanted to believe, anyway. Perhaps it made her naive, but she knew Rowan. Even if they hated each other, they didn’t like causing the other unnecessary pain.

“Why are we fighting then?” The bald vulnerability he gave had her mouth parting in surprise. Of all the ways she saw this first night going, a calm discussion was nowhere on the list. Murder definitely was, but this?

“I don’t think we know how to be around each other like this,” she said slowly. “We had moments of bickering when we first met, sure, but…”

The words she wanted to say would strip her a little more bare than she wanted to be, yet she wasn’t ready to let the moment go. Rowan saw her hesitation and waited patiently, eyes scanning her face as though he could sneak into her mind and steal the thoughts for himself. Tomorrow the fires would rage again but for tonight? Tonight she would settle close to the truth without laying it all at his feet.

“But?” Aelin sighed and shook her head.

“We’ve always been intense,” she shrugged a shoulder. “Now that we aren’t in love, I guess it’s just going to be in the form of verbal sparring and screaming matches. Maybe a few physical blows during training.”

Aelin averted her eyes, slipping her fingers out from beneath the blanket to inspect her nails. It probably looked as stupid as it felt, considering she could hardly see, but Rowan didn’t call her on it. Nor did he point out how unlike her it was to balk from a conversation, yet here she was, being a coward and avoiding his gaze. It was a half-truth wrapped up in a teasing taunt at best and clearly not the answer he sought.

It wasn’t fair that he still had her tied up in so many knots. For years she paraded around, pretending she was over it and it didn’t matter anymore. Not being in love with Rowan was one of the biggest lies she’d ever told, one she whispered to herself every time she found him looking at her. It was a foolish, stupid mask she wore to hide the pain of the ugly, bleeding truth of everything.

Rowan handled it better than she did, and it hurt more than she would ever admit.

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