#bodyguard fan fic

[buckyalpine]

18 + That is your warning so stop reading. Imagine being an absolute slut for your bodyguard Bucky even though your very much so dating Steve.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you" Steve snarled, picking up his pace while you hiccupped, "You filthy fuckin' slut, you worked up and down on his cock didn't you, I'm the only one who gets to fuck you like this"

“But I love riding his dick daddy” You wailed while bouncing on Steve's cock, biting you lip, your eyes rolling back thinking about how Bucky stretched you open like a whore, splitting you in half. "I wan Bucky's cock" You sobbed, sounding needier than ever and it made Steve leak.

"Fuck sugar, that right? You're that much of a desperate slut, you want my best friends cock?"

"Uh-huh" you nodded, nearly going cross eyed, making an utter mess all over the dark blond curls at the base of Steve's cock. He didn't stop his harsh thrusts as the door clicked open, your body guard striding into the office, his cock already rock hard.

"Hey pretty girl" Bucky cooed, smirking at how cockdrunk you were while he rounded he corner of the desk to where you were splayed across Steve's lap where he sat in his office chair. He traced your pouty bottom lip before slipping his thumb into your mouth, humming in satisfaction at the way you sucked it, moaning around the metal digit.

"Go on, finish what I started" Steve nodded while you squeaked as Bucky picked up you up effortlessly off of Steve's cock, and tossing you over his shoulder.

"Need my cock, huh Bambi, that all?" Bucky's wide palm rubbed your sore ass where Steve had spanked you, turning over to place a quick kiss onto the hot skin before laying you down on the table. You let out a needy moan at the sound of his belt hitting the floor, so deep in subby space, spreading your legs extra wide as he pulled his pants down just enough to free his cock.

"Look at that, such a good girl, spreading her legs for me" Bucky leaned over to take a good look at you, your dazed expression and wiggling hips making his balls impossibly heavy. "Wanna show Steve how well you take my cock baby? Show him how I make you moan and cum, n'how I play with that cute little button between your legs?"

"Mph, Bucky please" You whined, pouting at the disappointed tsk Bucky made.

"That's not what you call me Bambi, c'mon, whose cock do you want, say it"

"Fuck me, Sergeant-OH-MY-GODD" You cried out as Bucky slammed into you, setting in a brutal pace without waring, your body bouncing against the desk as he gripped onto your hips.

"That's-it-good girl-good. fucking. girl" Bucky snarled through gritted teeth, slamming your body down onto his cock, his head thrown back, moving one hand to wrap around your neck. He was too enamored with you to notice the way Steve's hand was wrapped around his cock, working his swollen, silky tip, watching his pretty princess take his best friend like her life depended on it.

Bucky spat right onto your clit, rubbing tight circles around you with a feral look on his face feeling you squeeze around him, bending your thighs up till they hit your chest, hitting a deeper angle.

"Feel that? M'so deep in your pussy baby, s'fuckin' deep, can feel your little clit throbbing, it's all swollen huh Bambi, you're soaking my cock, make a mess all over it princess, it's all yours"

"Sergeant-gonna-I-" You couldn't forumalte words, tears streaming down your face and falling onto the desk under you, the band in your belly ready to snap-

"You gonna cum for my best friend babygirl?" Steve's focus was locked in at where Bucky was connected to you, watching his cock slam in and out of your tight cunt, stretching you wide open, his own cock growing impossibly harder, "Fuck, you're a dirty slut, I'm gonna-fuck m'cumming" Steve's voice was breathless, his chest heaving as he worked his cock faster, eyes rolling back as white streams of cream decorated his black shirt, nearly shooting to his beard. "Holy shit"

"BUCKY M'CU-UMINGG" You wailed, your back arching off the table, screaming with every muscle in your body pulled taught. You couldn't tell where your orgasm began or where it ended, unending waves of pleasure drowning you while Bucky began to chase his own.

"Cum for your Sergeant baby, that's it, such a good girl, you make my cock so hard Bambi, y'feel so good, not gonna last, shittt-HNG" Bucky let out a guttural moan, not giving a fuck that Steve was right there, pumping you full of his cum until his balls were empty and his cock was soft. He tucked himself back in his pants before removing his shirt to wipe you down and picking you up, letting you wrap yourself around him like a koala. Your boyfriend followed closely behind, smirking at the needy noise you made, checking to see that Steve was also coming for some post sex naps, sighing contently when you saw him following near by.

"Off to bed, Bambi"

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Her Bodyguard, His Shining Star Part 1: Kiss Me at Coachella✨

Bodyguard! Joel Miller x singer fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: I do not know what came over me, but this was heavily inspired after watching Sabrina Carpenter’s “Espresso” Coachella performance. This one shot took over my whole Saturday and Sunday! Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for helping me with a title and the mood board and for being my beta! 🩷 This is both in Joel and reader’s POV. Comments and reblogs make my day. Enjoy, lovelies!

Summary: You’re performing at Coachella, throwing winks and flirting with your eyes as Joel Miller watches you from the side of the stage. He’s your bodyguard, and he should know better, but he wants you just as much as you want him.

Word Count: 8.1k

Rating: 18+ Only MDNI

Tags: Fluff, flirting, pining, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, cute pet names, unprotected p in v, switching POVs, reader is a singer, Joel is a bodyguard, reader has long hair, large age gap (reader is 25, Joel is 44)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The warm sun glows against your glittering skin, the music pumping like sugary coffee running through your veins. The crowd chants along with you, singing every lyric you do while they hold their phones and snap videos while you twirl around to the rhythm of the upbeat song. You flash them big smiles, pose for the camera, sway your hips while your dancers match your cute little moves. You’re exhausted, almost done with your set at Coachella, but the flaming energy of the crowd keeps you going. 

   You spin around, pop your hip out and wave flirtatiously to Joel at the end of the stairs on the side stage. He shakes his head, chuckling to himself while he tries to act professional. That’s what bodyguards do, right? Stay professional? And he did, he really did, but you liked to tease him just a bit sometimes, get him all riled up if you could. 

   You see the smug smirk he tries to hide behind that patchy, greying scruff, watch the way those gorgeous honey flecked eyes scan your body. He can try to be coy all he wants, but you’ll call him on his bluff. The man is attracted to you, just like you are to him. But you can’t help it, he’s drop dead gorgeous. The way his grey threaded dark curls catch the sun rays, his ripped muscles cling to the flannels and tight t-shirts he wears on a daily basis, his corded veins spiral down his tanned arms, the way he towers over you every time he stands next to you, his deep Southern drawl that sends you into heat every time he graces you with that thick honey-like voice, and the way he’s so protective over you. But you also can’t forget that he's twice your age, which makes him even hotter. 

   You shouldn’t want it, want him, but you do. God, you do. At night when you’re in between your silky sheets with your fingers rubbing between your legs, you’re thinking of him. Those big, meaty hands, that rough tongue, his deep, gravelly voice that must sound so sweet filled with dirty words. You can’t help yourself, you want Joel Miller, your bodyguard. 

   He watches you strut the lit up stage, the sparkles on your pink dress catching the flecks of his wandering eyes. He thinks you look so gorgeous twirling around in that short tease of a dress. Every time you bend over or spin around, he can see those skimpy short shorts that barely cover the globes of your ass. You like the attention though, love to tease the crowd just like you’re teasing him now. 

   He sees the discrete winks you throw his way on the stage, the way you lick those plump, glossy lips that seem to call directly to him. You’re trying to get a reaction out of him. He knows you too well. You may be flirting with the starving crowd who begs for more, but you’re also flirting with him. And he can’t help but get drawn into those beautiful eyes of yours that glisten in the sunlight, can’t help the way his cock is straining against the zipper of his denim jeans right now, precum spilling over the tip thinking about thrusting between those pretty legs of yours. He wants you so fucking badly, and you have no idea.

   You twirl your curls flirtatiously around your finger, flipping your hair behind your shoulders while he watches from the corner of the stage, pretending like that’s his hand wrapped around your flowing locks. Another wink his way and he’s mush against the edge of the stage. Maybe you are trying to get a reaction out of him, you just love to tease him, but he loves it just the same. You’re nothing but a little troublemaker.

   He thinks about you all the time on those lonely nights on long tours, when he’s under his pristine sheets that graze against his hardening cock. He whispers your name under his breath when he’s stroking himself, pretending his hand is yours gliding over him, spreading precum with your soft hands, your pretty mouth. And when he cums he thinks of your glittering eyes, imagines you encouraging him on while he spills hot ropes of cum all over his soft tummy. 

   He may feel a little guilty after doing that, those dirty thoughts that swirl in his head night after night, but there’s no way in hell he feels bad about doing it. He’d have you every day if it was up to him. Oh, yes. He’d ravage your body till you had nothing left to give but your own breath that blows gently against his hungry lips. Damned if he does, and damned if he doesn’t. Either way he’s completely fucked. 

   The end of your routine is drawing close, the last number halfway over while the sun kisses your tanned skin. He knows you’re tired, can see it in the sweat that glistens like diamonds down your dainty arms. He’d go and scoop you up in his arms, let you wrap your own around his neck while he carried you to safety, away from prying vultures in the crowd, but he knows paparazzi would snap those pictures in a heartbeat and cause a scene in the tabloids. The pop princess and bodyguard have a scandalous affair at Coachella together. He scoffs at the thought. Fucking idiots starving for a shiny penny to add to their useless names. 

   The moment you sing your last line, you wave to the crowd and blow kisses to the rowdy audience. “Thank you, Coachella! See you next year!” They chant your name, begging for one more song, but your time is up. So you exit the stage all smiles with glitter falling to the ground, keeping your glow until you get to the edge of the stage. 

   Joel’s right there waiting for you, a water bottle and small towel in hand, just like he always does. He looks so good in his tight black t-shirt, sleeves pulling at his bulging biceps while his dark jeans hug his meaty thighs tightly. He always looks so good that you feel dizzy when he takes your hand and helps you down the stairs and off the buzzing stage. 

   Your breath catches in your throat when he closes his thick, calloused fingers over yours, his honey eyes bright and alert when he hands you the water bottle and dabs your sweaty forehead with the soft towel. You could melt into a puddle right here and now the way he’s looking at you all protective and warm-like. 

   “You really gave them a show today, darlin’,” he drawls as his dark flecks of warmth serenade you with attention.

   “Yeah, you think so?” 

   “Mhm,” he hums, staying attentive to you while he watches you take a sip of water. 

   “Did I give you a show, too?” you ask all flirtatiously, batting your long eyelashes up at him as you slide your tongue slowly over your glossy lips, licking off a droplet of water. 

   His cheeks grow red, eyebrows fusing together as he shakes his head and runs a large hand slowly through those messy curls you so want to run your own fingers through. “C’mon, trouble. Let’s jus’ get you back to the trailer.” He grabs your elbow and drags you through the winding backstage area, dodging cords and other performers that stand in your way.

   You follow next to him, quick to stay on his trail while fans scream from the right behind barricades when they see you. Joel pushes you to the left, lingering his large hands on you just a few seconds too long while he works to keep you safe. You know it’s his job, but it turns you on at the sight of him watching out for you, keeping a hand firmly on your arm, making sure no one else touches you but him. 

   Maybe it’s a lovesick fantasy, a fever dream that you and Joel could be more than this. More than just a bodyguard who’s just doing his job to watch out for you. You feel it, that sexual chemistry when you’re near each other, even in a large crowd that won’t stop screaming your name, demanding pictures and autographs while he pushes them away from your reach. You feel it in his heated stare, the brush of his calloused fingertips on your tanned skin, the devilish smirk he gives you when you tease him or say something you shouldn’t. You know he feels it, too. He has to. He’s just as delusional and lovesick as you. You see it in the glow of those amber eyes. He knows.

   “So, you have a free night tonight, huh?” you ask as you keep your fingers curled around the soft fabric of his t-shirt. 

   “Sure, if you call keepin’ you out of trouble free time,” he chuckles, his brown eyes gazing back toward you, just enough to paint streaks of dark pink over your already blush caked cheeks. 

   “Me, trouble? Never,” you tease while you flash him a bright smile. 

   “Oh, you’re trouble alright. But you’re not the one I’m worried about. These Coachella fans can get pretty intense. I’d jus’ feel better if I was watchin’ out for you is all.”

   “You don’t want a night off though?”

   He looks back toward you and knits his eyebrows together, concern lathered all in those brown doe eyes of his. It makes you weak in the knees. “I’m alright. Besides, you’re not bad company to have.” He nudges you with his elbow and winks your way, completely knocking the breath from you. 

   Did Joel Miller just say you were good company? A quiet, reserved guy like him likes your company? The one that would rather grab a drink at the bar alone and sit in silence with a good book while no one bothers him? Guess you did have an affect on him afterall. 

   “Not bad company?” you giggle as you push against his shoulder. 

   “Not bad at all, darlin’. You’re jus’ the kind I need,” he says with a hidden smirk under that salt-and-pepper scruff you want to drag your fingers through. Yeah, you’re just what he needs.

   Suddenly, a screaming fan comes from your left, some psycho that escaped through the wrought iron fence who stomps your way. He charges over to you, calling your name as his spindly fingers close over your arm, his other hand clawing at your pink sparkly dress. “Let me take a picture, please! I love you, I drove hours just to see you sing. Please!”

   Joel rips the guy's hands off your body, pinning his hands behind his back against a caged off area while you fight to catch your breath. Your heart thunders in your chest watching Joel being so protective, possessive over you while the fan begs for mercy against Joel’s tight grip. 

   “Keep your fuckin’ filthy hands off of her! She’s not a toy you can just grab and demand things from. She didn’t give you permission, didn’t ask for you to claw at her dress. So I suggest you walk back out to the general admission area and stay the fuck away from her. Understood?!” His voice sounds like crackling thunder, that deep rugged breath towering over the cowering fan as he makes red marks over the fan’s useless wrists. Joel was just doing his job, one he was damn good at. But he made it look so sexy. 

   You stare in amazement, blinking through your thick lashes while you watch Joel shove the crazed fan through the fence, warning him to keep his distance or else he’ll wish he never stepped foot into the music festival. You gawk at him, watching the way his muscles flex underneath his t-shirt, watching the scowl across his mouth darken his menacing eyes. He’s a dominant wolf protecting his pack, and his pack is you. 

   You watch his flared nostrils and harsh eyes soften when he turns and looks at you, one of his large hands coming to clasp around your wrist while he assesses your wide-eyed features. “You okay?”

   You nod your head slowly, keeping your gaze on him as he makes sure you’re alright. “Really, I’m fine, Joel. Thank you.”

   Before he can manage a reply back to you, blinding cameras start flashing before your eyes, paparazzi swarming you as they just assessed the scene. They throw questions at you, screaming your name while you try to drown out their echoing voices. 

   You stick like glue to Joel’s side, latching your arms around his strong torso while you hide your face in his t-shirt beneath his shoulder. Joel wraps a protective arm around your back and guides you to safety. 

   “Get back! She ain’t answerin’ questions right now, she jus’ got off the stage. Leave her alone!” His deep voice hounds them, barking strict orders for them to stay back. 

   You’re so thankful for Joel right now, your knight in shining armor steering you to safety. The blinding lights start to slowly fade away, the reaching hands and firm demands slipping away once you enter the safe vicinity of your tour trailer. 

   Joel unfolds you from his safe grasp, turns you around and places one hand gently under your chin as if to say it’s okay, baby girl. They’re gone. He scans your frightened eyes, but you melt into a relaxed state when he looks at you with those concerned honey eyes that swallow you whole. 

   “You sure you’re alright?” he asks with eyebrows furrowed together in a panicked state. 

   “I am now. Thanks for saving me. You’re my hero,” you smile as he lets out a sigh of relief and shakes his head. 

   “Jus’ doin’ my job, sweetheart. Can’t help it that everyone wants a piece of you. Gotta protect the shining star,” he winks, nearly sending you over the edge of the steps to your trailer. 

   “Well, you’re pretty great at your job, Miller. Best bodyguard ever,” you flirt as you poke him playfully in the chest. 

   “Alright, little pop star. Why don’t you go relax for a bit? I’ll be out here, be sure to fight off any more paparazzi parasites,” he smiles while he watches you twist the handle and enter your safe haven. 

   “Joel?” you call before you close the door. 

   “Hmm?” he asks as he twists around and faces you with gentle brown eyes. 

   “Go easy on them.”

   He just rolls his eyes and shakes his tousled curls off his sweaty forehead. “Sure thing, darlin’. Alright now, go on. Get in there,” he instructs as he nods to your room. 

   You huff out and slump your shoulders, pretending like it’s the biggest chore in the world. He ticks his jaw and raises an eyebrow at you that tells you he’s not messing around, so you fully oblige his request. “Alright, alright. I’m going,” you sigh. 

   “Attagirl,” he chuckles. 

   Your cheeks burn red as he leaves you with the hottest word before you close the door with a jolt. Attagirl. The word rushes through you, straight to your core where you feel a bit of slick build against your sticky lace. How can a man get you turned on with just one word? Well, it’s Joel Miller, and the man can make you wet with the wink of those pretty brown eyes, but Attagirl was next level. It was borderline porn to your ears. 

   When you hear the click of the door close you take a second to breathe, leaning up against the sealed door while you flick the lights on and try to calm your racing nerves. You assess your pristine room, taking in the white walls hung with pink fairy lights. The glow from your vanity mirror lights up the little corner where your sparkly makeup sits neatly together. The pink velvet sectional sits up against the middle of the wall where a picture of Marilyn Monroe hangs right above that. Soft pink colors cover the room, and you feel suddenly at ease in the protection of your trailer. 

   You meander toward the vanity mirror, assessing your perfect makeup that still stays intact on your glowing face. The sparkling pink eyeshadow mixes in with the sharp wings of black eyeliner that frames your soft eyes. Shimmery pink lip gloss coats your plump lips, and the blush stands out against your tanned skin. Your spiral curls flow gently over your shoulders, and your sparkly dress hugs all your curves in the right places. 

   You suddenly want to be free of your costume, wanting to throw on a pair of cutoff jean shorts and an oversized t-shirt. When you turn your back to the mirror and try to unzip your dress, it gets stuck just a couple inches from the top. 

   “Oh, come on. Work with me.” You fight the zipper again, tugging with all your might until you grit your teeth together and curse under your breath. This is not what you need right now. You want out of this dress, out of these high heels, out of these smothering tights. 

   You stomp your heel into the plush carpet, folding your arms across your cleavage as you decipher just what to do. Lacy, your assistant, is tied up in important meetings for the rest of the afternoon. She’s nowhere near your little trailer. Your makeup artist is busy helping other performers, so you have no other options. Joel is the only one…

   You gulp, take a long look at your flushed cheeks just thinking of having Joel Miller unzip your dress. It’s harmless, really, but not if he’s doing it. That would only lead to one thing. Giving into pure desire, temptation, need. 

   “Fuck it,” you whisper to yourself, “if a show is what he wants, then a show is what he’ll get.”

   You tiptoe to the door, hovering your hand over the handle as you take a deep breath and breathe in and out slowly. It’s just a zipper, only a zipper. He could always say no, leave you stranded while you’re stuck in your dress the entire evening. He wouldn’t do that though, leave you helpless while you fight to rip the tight dress off your body. He just wouldn’t allow that. No way. 

   You take one more deep breath and open the door slowly, slipping your head out as you see Joel standing at the bottom of your trailer steps. You clear your throat and watch him turn his head quickly in your direction, leaving his guard wide open as he assesses your distressed face. “Umm, Joel. Can you do me a favor?”

   His eyebrows knit together while his eyes glaze over your body. “What is it, darlin’?” His doe eyes lean into yours, and you can barely muster up any words while he looks at you like that, all caring and deep. 

   “Well, my zipper got stuck in the back, and I can’t get it down. Do you think you can help?” you ask shyly, your eyes looking up nervously through your long lashes. 

   “Uhh, where’s Lacy? I can go grab her, let her help ya out.”

   “No!” You reach out an arm and grab his wrist tightly, watching his brown eyes widen at your sudden contact on his tanned skin. 

   “No?” he asks confused, his breath picking up underneath his dark t-shirt. 

   “I mean, she’s in meetings for the rest of the afternoon. She’s nowhere near the trailer. And I’m awfully uncomfortable in this tight dress. Do you think you can just come in really quick and help?”

   He gulps down a breath, his heartbeat picking up incredibly fast while he looks into your gorgeous eyes. How can he say no to that? He can’t, so he won’t. He rakes a hand slowly through his greying scruff and nods your way. 

   “‘Course I’ll help, sweetheart. C’mon then.” He places a hand gently on your lower back and leads you into the glowing lights of the trailer, letting the door close with a bang as he guides you to the middle of the room. 

   “Turn around for me, sweetheart,” he asks nicely as you oblige and turn your back toward him. 

   He looks at your undone zipper, sees where it’s stuck in the pink fabric of the dress. Of course he’d be the only one around to help you, of all things a fucking stuck zipper on you. He has no resistance when it comes to you, he just can’t say no to that pretty face of yours. 

   “Zipper’s jus’ caught in the fabric. Should just take a little tugging,” he says with gritted teeth, pulling on the zipper while he holds the silky fabric tight with his other hand. 

   After a few seconds of fighting the dress, he gets it free of the catching fabric. He slowly unzips the back of your sparkling dress, going ever so slowly as if not to make a single sound. The only sounds he hears are your quick breaths, the beating of his own racing heart, and the noise of tugging you free of the suffocating, tight dress. 

   He watches it stop at the end of your curvy hips, catching the way your skin seems to shimmer as your flawless skin comes into his line of vision. He sees the way the dress falls open in the back, your skin begging to be touched, to be stroked as it beckons him closer and closer until he’s hovering above your hot skin. 

   He knows he shouldn’t linger, shouldn’t hover over the glow of your exposed skin, but it’s almost sinful not to touch you when the glitter of your undertones calls directly to him. He gives in, stealing just a touch as he rubs his fingers slowly down your spine. 

   You squirm beneath his touch, tingling sensations running wildly down your skin with each touch he takes from you. You ravish in it, holding your breath while he takes his time dipping across the curve of your back. 

   He leans into you, ghosting his lips across your neckline while he breathes you in deep. He smells the vanilla scent of your perfume, lilac breezing through your soft curls, and can even smell the cherry flavor of your glittery lip gloss. You must taste so good, he can already feel your soft lips against his while he takes his other hand and moves your curls over the left side of your shoulder. 

   You turn your head back gradually, exposing the veins in your slender neck while it gives him access to dip his lips against the curve of your neck. “Joel,” you whisper out, your insides shaking as the hand on your back sinks down to the curve of your hip. 

   He can’t respond, too lost in your delicious scent while his hand dances against the silk of your tempting skin. He’s a bad man, putting himself in this vulnerable position where he’s alone with you, with your zipper completely down and your dress barely holding itself against your perfect body. 

   He should go back outside, stay away from your midnight eyes, your luscious locks, your sweet smelling perfume, but he can’t. He just can’t. He’d rather die than to leave you alone now, untouched, not taken care of. He’s your bodyguard, he’s paid to take care of you. So he will, in every way that he can. He’ll have his way with you. If your zipper can be fixed then who's to say that ache between your legs can’t, too? 

   He spins you around, your chest pressed flush against his while he slowly backs you up against the wall, caging you in with his strong arms while he breathes in your sweet vanilla scent that drives him wild. He sees the cleavage practically spilling from the top of your undone dress, wants to fucking rip it to shreds until there’s nothing left but your glowing skin under the tips of his pressing fingers. 

   He takes a hand and pushes back a strand of curls behind your ear, lingering his thick fingers along your jawline while you breathe in the woodsy mahogany smell, his expensive cologne that you could lather yourself in just to smell like him. He’s so close that he could lean down and press his lips to yours, so close that you could twist your fingers through those lush curls that you so desperately want to meld your fingers to. 

   You’ve never been this close to him before, to where you can see just how pretty and clear his brown flecked eyes are. You’re driving yourself into dangerous territory, but you don’t care. No one’s here to stop you from making any mistakes, and Joel is not a mistake.

   He hovers over you, dragging his lips against your jawline and stopping at the shell of your ear, lingering there while his meaty hands dig into the curve of your hips. “We shouldn’t… I shouldn’t,” he says with gritted teeth, painfully dragging out the words while he tickles the shell of your ear with his plush lips. 

   “Why not?” you whine pathetically as you place a hand under his shirt, making him jump while you graze over the happy trail that leads underneath his jeans. It makes a deep groan slip from his throat. 

   “I’m twice your age. You jus’ turned twenty-five, I’m pushing forty-five. I’m your bodyguard. I should be more respectful, shouldn’t give in to a pretty thing like you,” he murmurs as he feels his cock hardening beneath the denim of his jeans. 

   “I don’t care that you’re older or that you’re my bodyguard,” you mumble as your fingers tug the leather belt free from his jeans. 

   He groans, licking the edge of your ear while he fights to find an ounce of control in his desperate body. He finds none. “We shouldn’t, darlin’. It’d be irresponsible on my part. What if the paparazzi found out? They’d turn the headlines into a hell of a mess. Hell, your publicist would kill me,” he says defeatedly while his hands stay glued to your hips. 

   “I don’t care what my publicist says, I don’t care about the paparazzi. I know what I want, Joel. I know you want it, too. Just as much as I do.”

   He groans against you, doing his best to resist you, but he can’t. He’s a weak man for you, and he’ll give in with the snap of your fingers. He’s got no fight left in him, he’s all yours. “Are you sure, sweetheart? You want this? Want me?”

   You grip tighter to his jeans, dragging his hips flush against yours as you feel the swell of his cock through the denim. He’s so fucking big, and you haven’t even seen him yet. “Yes, Joel. Please. Want you, only you,” you stifle out a moan as his lips trail against your neck, gently nipping and sucking against your sensitive areas while his hands ghost over the curve of your breasts. 

   “God, I can’t say no to you, gorgeous. You don’t even know what you do to me every time I see you up on that stage, singin’ with that angelic voice of yours, dancin’ around all flirtatiously while you make me so fuckin’ hard beneath my jeans.”

   You groan at his filthy words, letting him spread your legs while one of his parts your legs wider. One hand trailing up your inner thigh while his other slowly pulls against the top of your pink dress. “You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to do this for so long, how much I’ve wanted to press my face between those thick thighs of yours,” he groans as he trails his lips against the cleavage of your dress. 

   “Probably just as long as I’ve wanted you to,” you pant out as he tugs at the hem of your dress. 

   “Yeah, s’that right?” he teases, dragging his teeth lower down your breasts. 

   “Mhm. Joel, fuck. Taste me, touch me, fuck me,” you beg as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

   “Fuck you, hmm? That what you want?” he teases while he slowly pulls your dress free, hearing it drop to the floor when all you’re left in is your shorts and tights. 

   “Yes, please. Want you, need you to touch me. Do it, Joel. Please,” you whine, twisting your fingers around the curls around the base of his neck.

   He chuckles out, sucking in a breath as he fully obliges your request. “Alright, pretty pop star. If that’s what you want, how can I say no to you?”

   He leaves you with no warning, cupping one breast in his large palm while he sucks on your other one, running his tongue in circles until your nipples are pebbled and swollen beneath his tongue, his mouth, his hands. He does the same to the other one, languidly sliding his tongue over the pebbled bud while he massages your breasts with his calloused fingers. 

   He bathes in your moans, making certain to get you all worked up where he knows you’re already soaking beneath your panties. That’s where he wants you wet, begging for him to touch you. 

   “Joel,” you whine, feeling his fingers fall free from your pebbled breasts. 

   “I know, baby. I know. Don’t worry, gonna take care of my girl.”

   Before you can speak, he cups your face and sinks his plush lips against the gloss of yours, melding his mouth to yours while he tastes the cherry flavor of your lip gloss. You part your lips for him, inviting him in as you feel him lick feverishly into your mouth. Your tongues dance together in unison, allowing him to tangle his with yours while he revels in your pretty moans against his hungry mouth. He’s starving for you, absolutely famished while he takes and takes from you, letting his tongue explore the entirety of your open mouth. If you taste this good, just think how absolutely divine you must be between your legs.

   His hands roam down to your shorts, slipping his fingers inside the waistband and tugging them free of your skin. You step out of your high heels, kick the pink shorts aside and allow his mouth to break free of yours. You pant tirelessly, watching him kneel between your legs as he starts to run his fingers up and down your thighs. 

   He looks up at you, his eyes becoming dark pits that consume him whole. He’s feral for you, and he won’t stop till he has every last drop from you. “You have another pair of these?” he asks, nodding to your tights. 

   “I’ve got a million pairs,” you say out of breath. 

   He smirks up at you before he tears into the flesh of your tights, ripping them to shreds while one of his large hands meets the lace of your panties. “What about these, hmm? Gonna miss these?”

   You shake your head, unable to get a word out as you swallow a whine in the back of your throat. “No?” he asks all deep and gravelly while his thumb traces against the edge of your lace, sliding down to put some pressure between your drenched lips. 

   You throw your head back and whine, begging him to continue on. “No, Joel. Just take them off, please. Need you,” you breathe out desperately. 

   “That’s all you had to say, sweetheart.” He takes no time, ripping into the seam of your panties as you watch him split them in half, throwing them in a pile on the floor while his eyes blow wide when he takes in the bare sight of you. 

   He groans to himself, dragging a finger through your wet arousal, parting you in the middle as he hears the sloshing sounds come from his thumb spreading the wetness all across your dripping core. He inhales you, reveling in the pretty noises you make while he takes his time exploring you, gathering the slick on his calloused fingers as he burns the sight of your messy pussy in the back of his brain. 

   “Shit, baby. Already so fuckin’ wet for me. This what I do to you, hmm? You always this wet around me?”

   “Mhm,” you moan, feeling his fingers pull you apart as more slick pools between your thighs. 

   “All this for me, goddamn. Ain’t I jus’ the luckiest man alive.” He licks a thick stripe up your core, dragging his tongue to lap up the slick that spills from your insides, making you pant out with need as he makes you come undone. “Don’t worry, baby. Gonna take real good care of this pretty pink pussy. Just sit back, relax, and let me do all the work.”

   He doesn’t even give you a chance to breathe, he just dives right in. He takes the flat of his tongue and strokes your folds, working you up and down while he soaks in the sweet taste of you. He hooks one of your pliant legs over his shoulder while you fight to not break already. 

   He drags his nose through the curls above your mound, sucking your swollen clit into his mouth while he breathes in the sensational musk of your pussy, drinking down your sticky arousal that makes his taste buds come to life. He’s never tasted a pussy this sweet before in his life, never quite experienced the high of such an intoxicating body before. He’s wanted you for so long now, and he never even imagined it’d be this good before. 

   “Joel,” you moan above him, wrapping your delicate fingers through his messy curls, driving out a deep groan from him by the way you cling to him. He loves the feel of you in his hair, pulling and tugging while you bite your lower lip and moan his name over and over again. It’s like an addictive drug he’s prescribed to, and he needs more, wants more of you. 

   He slips two digits into your drenched hole, filling you so full while his thick fingers curl and hit that spongy area that makes you see bright lights flash before your eyes. He revels in your moans, eliciting more with every touch and curl of his fingers, with every feverish lick to your messy center. 

   “Yeah? You like that, baby? Feel good?” Joel purrs while he watches you fall apart beneath his fingers. 

   “So good, Joel. Want you to - ahhh,” you whine as he pulls your aching bundle of nerves back into his warm mouth, releasing it with a pop as more slick covers his knuckles. 

   “Mmm, s’that right, sweetheart? Gonna cum for me? C’mon baby girl, go on and soak me,” he purrs. 

   You feel the white hot sensation taking over, feel his long fingers curl up to hit that spot again and again while he pulls your aching clit back into his mouth. And it feels so fucking good that you just can’t hold on any longer. “Joel, I’m gonna… fuck, I’m coming,” you whine as you release your pent up energy, soaking his knuckles while he works you nice and slow, licking at your core as the slick builds on his tongue, drinking you down till he soothes that aching need in his throat. 

   You come down slowly, feeling your body go through the tingling sensations that make you feel so alive. You’ve never had it this good before, not before Joel. He’s going to be the end of your demise. 

   You look down at him between your legs, fingers still curled inside your core while he slowly drags them out of you with a groan from your lips. He pops the digits into his mouth, sucking the sweet release while he moans your name. He looks fucking wrecked, his hair all tousled and messy, wide eyes blown out to black pits that want to devour you whole. The way he’s looking at you makes you think he’s not done with you, and he’s not. Oh no, he’s just getting started. 

   “Such a good girl for me,” he purrs, sliding his calloused fingers up to your hips while he unhooks your leg from his shoulder. “I’m not done with you yet, baby. Now, c’mere.”

   He throws you over his shoulder, a surprised gasp coming from your lips as he takes you over to the velvet couch. He drops you on your hands and knees, not giving you a moment to breathe while he situates himself behind you and spreads your legs wide. 

   He takes a few seconds to admire your glistening core, sitting back on his heels as he rakes a hand slowly over his greying scruff, taking in the absolute beauty that sits before him. He’s never seen a sight like this that he goes head over heels for, sliding his tongue between his teeth as he whispers how fucking perfect you are.

   He groans your name, dragging his thumb up and down your sticky folds while one hand spreads your cheeks wide. He says your name repeatedly, taking in the sight of you in front of him. He thinks you’re so fucking pretty, all messy and dripping just for him. He wants to just slip your scent, your taste into his own cologne, mix the two together until he can only smell you on his body. 

   He licks at your core, spreading you wide while he devours you whole. He pulls at your glistening clit, languidly circling the swollen bud that calls sinfully to him. He wants to give you all the orgasms, drink you down till you have nothing left to give, curl his fingers inside your heated core, work you over till the only thing you can say is his name through your pretty moans. 

   He thrives in the musk of you, the taste of your cherry lips, the sweet saltiness of your warm cum. If he could give it a name, he’d call you his special jasmine flower, known to be the sweetest, most fragrant flower in the world. That’s what you are to him. The rarest flower that ever came into his reach, his life. 

   He licks against your slick folds, working his fingers in and out of your delicious cunt, slurping on your sensitive mound while he drowns it in his own drool, lusting after you until you writhe beneath him and give him another mind blowing orgasm. 

   “Joel, I’m coming, I’m coming,” you cry, spilling yourself all over his digits and inside his heated mouth. He can’t reply, too busy drinking you down as he groans good girl through the taste of you on his large tongue. 

   He swallows all the slick between your thighs, holding you up together while your legs shake uncontrollably. You may have fallen apart on his tongue twice, but he still wants more. He’s greedy like that when something belongs to him. You’re his as far as he’s concerned now, and he always takes care of what’s his. 

   “Joel, wanna… wanna…” you stutter tirelessly, out of breath from the insane orgasm he pulled from your body. 

   “What do ya need, sweetheart? Use your words,” he coaxes, placing a hand gently at the small of your back as he strokes small circles into the heat of your skin.

   “Your cock. Let me suck your cock, make you feel good, too,” you whine out, grinding your teeth together as he gently blows on your aching core. 

   “Not this time, baby. Later. Gotta take care of you first. This time I wanna have my way with you, want your cum dripping down my tongue, making my cock all messy from your sweet release. Wanna bottle you up and make you my own personal brand of whiskey,” he growls as he pulls his t-shirt over his head and frantically slides his jeans and boxers over his feet, disposing the sweaty material on the ground. 

   He hisses as he spreads the precum over his shaft, pumping himself a couple times before he grabs your hips and scoots you back, stifling a moan from your mouth as he plunges his massive cock into your throbbing pussy. 

   “Oh, shit. Joel,” you whine, filling the room with your sweet incantations while he fills you so full of him. 

   “Yeah? You like that, dirty girl? Takin’ this cock so good, squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight,” he growls, pulling your hair back as your head snaps up, his mouth meeting yours as he licks feverishly inside, swallowing your moans while he continues his frantic thrusts into your weeping pussy. 

   He pulls out from you, throwing you on your back while he hooks your legs over his shoulders, rutting back inside you as his cock gets covered in your sticky slick. You throw your arms around his neck while he finds your mouth again, licking inside, moaning your name on the tip of his tongue as he speeds up his thrusts inside you. 

   The sounds are obscene, the wet smacking noises of his hard cock drilling inside your drenched pussy reverberating off the glow of the pristine walls. He releases his mouth from yours, leaning back to take in the gorgeous view that’s you. You’re splayed all over the couch, your perky breasts bouncing up and down with every thrust of his cock, your eyes all glossed over and fucked out while he takes you nice and slow. He thinks you’re a vision, a full on masterpiece that deserves to be displayed in an art gallery, your mouth making that pretty O shape while you chant his name angelically. 

   “Know you’re close, baby. Squeezin’ me so tight, feels so good,” he moans through the grit of his teeth. 

   “Joel, I’m gonna… gonna… fuck,” you whine as you feel that all too familiar white hot sensation rush through your entire body. 

   “Oh yeah, baby. That’s it. Such a good fuckin’ girl. Go on now, soak this cock,” he coaxes. 

   He watches you fall apart beneath him, beautiful, glossy eyes rolling back as you drag your manicured nails down his back, giving him the prettiest moans as you clench around him and release your cum all down his quivering cock. 

   “Good girl,” he praises, talking you through your intense orgasm as he quickens the strokes inside you, reaching heights you never could without him, kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock. It feels so fucking good, and you just gave him the best three orgasms of your life. You’re exhausted, but you need him to finish. You need him inside you. 

   Sweat drips off his forehead, ending in his tousled curls as he bares his teeth, barely able to hold on any longer. “Baby, I’m about to cum. I can’t hold on much longer. Where do you want me, sweetheart? Where do you want me to spill?”

   “Inside Joel, paint me white inside. Cum inside my pussy, please,” you beg. 

   He moans as he calls your name, giving you a couple more thrusts before he paints the insides of your thighs white with hot ropes of cum, throwing his head back as he revels in the ecstasy of filling you up with his seed, claiming you as his own. 

   He pulls out and twists you around, collapsing on his back against the velvet couch while you fall into his chest, his meaty hands holding you tight around the waist while you both come down from your intense orgasmic high. The room smells like sex and sweat, hints of vanilla and cherry flavored lips lingering around the room. It smells like heaven, Joel’s heaven. 

   Through the sounds of rushed breaths and tired bodies, he reaches up and hooks a strand of loose hair behind your ear, lingering his calloused fingers against your jawline while he assesses the beautiful starlights in your eyes. He thinks you’re the most gorgeous girl he’s ever laid eyes on, and now you’re all his. 

   You look at him just the same, memorizing the flecks of dark honey that make up his bright eyes, dragging your fingertips through his salt-and-pepper scruff, letting your other hand glide through his messy tousled curls. He may be your bodyguard who works for you, but now he’s so much more than that. He’s yours, and you’ll never let him go now. 

   “Still think this was a bad idea?” you ask with a raised brow, challenging him to say anything but yes. 

   “Too late for asking me that, sweetheart. I changed my mind. You’re jus’ what I needed,” he smiles, the flecks of his eyes shimmering amber as your own eyes sparkle with bliss. 

   “Glad you came around,” you giggle as he drags his fingers up and down your jawline softly. 

   “All ‘cause of a fuckin’ broken zipper. You know I can’t stop now, sweetheart? One taste of you and now I’m hooked. Afraid I can’t let you go now.”

   You lean into his chest, giving him your best dreamy smile as you trace the ends of a tousled greying curl. “Then don’t. Be mine, Joel.”

   “I’m all yours, sweetheart. All yours,” he whispers before he cups your face and brings your head down, meeting the plush of his lips as he kisses you nice and slow. 

   You melt into him, parting your lips so he can slot his way in, tangling his tongue with yours as you taste yourself in his mouth. You stay like that for minutes, getting lost in his soft touch, his musk, his dreamy eyes. You never want to leave this trailer, never want to be parted from Joel. The only question is, how will you ever be able to keep your hands off him in public? 

   You lean your head into the crevice of his neck, nestling up to his soft scruff that smells like him. You sigh and tangle your fingers with his while he holds you close to his side. “Guess we won’t see any more performances tonight?” 

   “I don’t know, baby,” he chuckles underneath you. “Think we need a shower and some food. Maybe take you for round two afterwards. But it’s up to you. We can either stay here or go watch more of the sets tonight. Whatever you want.”

   You think it over, but ultimately decide on his first offer. “Mmm, I think I’ll go with the first pick. Rather be here with you, in your arms, where it feels right.”

   He sighs, lingering a soft kiss on your cheek as he pushes back a falling curl. “Okay, beautiful. That’s what we’ll do then. You want pepperoni pizza? That’s your favorite, right?”

   “Mhm,” you nod. “Sounds perfect.”

   He chuckles, the chocolate flecks glistening in his pretty eyes. He looks so dreamy, almost unreal that he's underneath you, his skin glowing from the sight of you. “I’ve wanted you for so long, sweetheart. Can’t believe this is actually happening.”

   “I feel the same, Joel. Thought you might’ve caught on sooner with all the flirting I’ve been doing, especially up on stage. I might love getting a crowd pumped up, but there’s nothing more I love than making you blush at the side of the stage.”

   He tips his head back and laughs, his voice all deep and gravelly as he flicks his eyes back to you. “Oh, I caught on, darlin’. Figured you were tryin’ to get a reaction out of me, and you did. Now look at us,” he teases, cupping your chin with the palm of his large hand, causing tingles to run down your spine. 

   “Yeah, just look at us. A pop star and a bodyguard getting off on each other. Thought it’d only happen in my dreams,” you sigh, propping yourself up with your elbow on his sweat covered broad chest. 

   “Well, baby, it’s real. It happened. Reckon you’re mine now, yeah?”

   Your eyes perk up, a huge smile glistening across your shiny lips as you nod your head. “I’m all yours, Joel. As long as you’ll have me.”

   “Baby, I ain’t ever gonna let you go now. You’re all mine, and I’m gonna spend my days protectin’ and lovin’ this pretty pop star. That’s what you are, baby. You’re my shining star.”

   “And you’re my knight in shining bodyguard,” you giggle. 

   “Mhm, sure am, doll. And I don’t plan on ever lettin’ you go.”

   You fold back into his chest, pressing your lips hungrily against his. Eventually he carries you to the shower, helps wash off all the sweat and slick from earlier, until he takes you to your bed and makes love to you all over again. And it continues throughout the whole night, until both of you are passed out in each other's arms. 

   This is where you belong, in the arms of your fierce protector, your handsome bodyguard that you’re head over heels for. Your favorite brown eyed keeper. 

Tags: @laramc-02 @amyispxnk @sawymredfox @burntheedges @vivian-pascal

@littlevenicebitch69 @keylimebeag @msjarvis @akah565 @milla-frenchy

@aurorawritestoescape @alltheirdamn

[emlovessid]

@jegulus-microfic january 2, fire, 254 words

“What the fuck, James?” Regulus yells, bursting into the break room. “Why did I just get called into a meeting with Frank for him to tell me that you’re resigning?”

He’d known this was coming, has been on edge since his own meeting with Frank that morning, but is still unprepared for the anger burning like fire in Regulus’ eyes.

“I’m not resigning, I’m being transferred,” James says calmly.

“Transferred? We’ve been partners for six years, James. We’re a team,” Regulus says, the anger dropping from his voice until it’s just, hurt. “One night together and that’s it? You just want to throw that all away?”

James is on his feet before Regulus has even finished his sentence, crossing the distance between them until they’re standing toe to toe. James is slow and deliberate as he raises his hands to cup Regulus’ face, giving him time to pull away if he wants to. He doesn’t.

“It wasn’t just one night for me, Reg. Surely you must know it meant so much more than that. At least it did for me,” he says quietly, running a thumb across Regulus’ cheek, before adding, “Our job is to protect Evan.”

“And that’s what we do. We’re damn good at it,” Regulus interrupts, voice barely above a whisper.

“If there’s danger, our job is supposed to be to jump in front of Evan.”

“That’s always been the job, what’s changed?”

“Because now I know that I wouldn’t jump in front of Evan. I’d jump in front of you.”

[pretendfan]

[Cruel to be Kind]

Mickey Altieri x F!Reader

💜7k💜

[A/N:This has been stuck in my head for a while now, I’ve been working on it forever. I’m not even sure if it makes sense or even sounds like Mickey, (I may or may not have added too many movie/tv references) but it’s finally here and I kinda like it so let me know what you think!]

“How much did you really know about Mickey Altieri? Sure he was your boyfriend of course but it wasn’t until a week ago, that a misdemeanour in the sack causes an argument, and for him to realise that he had to fix this mistake quickly but the question was how?”

Warnings:18+ ONLY swearing and some smut, Mickey is a naughty boy in the sack, mentions of light choking, Mickey’s serial killer tendencies are showing, dubious ending, some smut,p in the v, straight to getting laid, Mickey’s true colours, movie quotes a go-go, kinda cheesy it is a grand gesture after all...this is oh-so loosely inspired by the first script for SCREAM 2 that was leaked where Mickey was in the role of Derek and that scene in the cafeteria which I fucking love was him serenading Hallie originally but now it’s you…

The very last thing that you wanted to do right now was head into the campus cafeteria for food, grabbing something from a vending machine instead seemed like a way better idea, and it definitely wasn’t because you were avoiding your boyfriend though no fucking way.

Your life had pretty much changed the moment you were introduced to Mickey Altieri, the guy who spoke in film quotes and spent a huge amount of time, carrying a hand held video camera around usually obscuring his face as he filmed life around him.

You knew Mickey was a huge flirt hell you were even warned about it many times, but within minutes you had found yourself caught up in his smile and those confident brown eyes, the ones that had pinned you in place when met across a busy room that night at some random party on campus.

Now fast forward six months later and a little space was definitely needed, seeing what had happened over a week ago when you had been together in his bed, with Mickey placing a large hand around your neck whilst you rode him which had shocked you a little to say the least.

It had actually caused a huge argument with you fighting off tears, whilst Mickey had told you that sometimes he just had to be “Cruel to be kind” as if that actually warranted his behaviour.

…leaving you needing some space despite all of the weak apologies, that had fallen rapidly from your boyfriends soft lips.

A few thoughts had clicked into place after that incident, you mostly realising how intense Mickey was in real life almost like you were seeing a new side to him, it had both opened your eyes and kind of turned you on in equal measures.

…but that was the very least of your worries right now.

Because the last thing that you wanted was to break up with Mickey, but he had now stopped apologising to you even though you were in turn avoiding him, yet you didn’t want to be the first one to bring it up.

…seeing that you knew exactly how much the guy loathed rom coms despite being a goofy sweetheart usually.

“Are you really sure this idea will actually work? Surely someone will stop you-“

“Lighten up Derek it’s happening ok, but just know that you are my shitty accomplice in all this.” Mickey cuts off his roommate with a wide smile, and a hint of sarcasm playing on the tip of his tongue, whilst he scanned the cafeteria for your face.

“You must’ve done something real bad to have to go this low to win back y/n.” Derek retorts with a deep chuckle.

“It’s either I make a grand gesture or this right here becomes my evil origin story.” Mickey declares with a shrug, knowing full well which one he would rather go for, but right now wasn’t the time.

“You are so weird, Altieri.” Derek states whilst shaking his head with a small smile attached.

“Well I blame the movies, Feldman.” Mickey shoots back with a knowing grin on his face, because things were going exactly to plan it was all too perfect.

It had been breaking news even to Mickey that he would actually meet someone he could care about, here at Windsor college of all places where he had other things to be focused on, but you had been such a distraction it actually made the experience of being here all the more worth while.

It wasn’t as if he had tried to voice these thoughts to you, but then Mickey had gotten a bit too rough in bed yet he had definitely seen the gleam in your eye, when he had tightened his grip only for you to move off him very quickly.

…only because some idiot had knocked on the dorm room door and run away, totally killing the moment between you two.

Mickey knew that he owed you big he wanted you to know how much he cared, how far he had come with you by his side if it hadn’t been for your being Sidney’s roommate, he would never have gotten closer to her absolutely fascinated by the brunette’s past life.

…he really did still want to interview her some day with his video camera, and list of questions about her ex Billy and his idiotic friend Stu because they had been such amateurs.

But for now he just needed this idea to work like a scene straight from a nauseous romance movie, Mickey would win you over with his goofy charms and still have you by his side, that was what he wanted at the end of all this for you to be with him in the long run.

…he had many reasons to be sitting here right now in this cafeteria, and all of them came back to you despite working better alone it turned out he had a heart after all.

The thought did naturally scare him because Mickey was known for being a slut around these parts, he usually hooked up fast and often but after meeting you that had come to a sudden halt, actually respecting you enough which made him feel like a whole new guy.

…but there were parts of him that not even you knew were there, but you would do pretty soon if all this worked out like the way he hoped.

Having quickly walked past Hallie McDaniels who was waiting for you outside the cafeteria, you were almost out of the building scot free until your roommate Sidney catches you with a swift tug on your arm to stop you, grudgingly spinning around on your heels to meet your fate.

Alongside Mickey you had also tried to avoid your friends, but that clearly hadn’t worked because Sidney Prescott was looking at you with excitement on her face, which was a good look on her after all that had happened back in her hometown.

…both the massacre of Woodsboro students and then the aftermath, a town in mourning and the bitch Gale Weathers blowing a shitstorm through it all.

Which was maybe happening again would you believe a serial killer on campus, it sounded like a bad horror movie but this was Sidney’s real life, being reduced to two bodyguards following her everywhere and putting all the other student bodies on edge.

…three students dead already the second year of college was starting to scare the hell out of you.

Yet regardless of this you now saw the smile on Sid’s face, showing how brave she was which you couldn’t even begin to imagine seeing how you were avoiding Mickey, and he wasn’t even a killer just a dude who had gotten a bit too adventurous in bed.

“Aren’t you supposed to be meeting Hallie for lunch?” Sidney asks in a teasing voice dropping her hand from your arm whilst you fantasise about leaving this moment very quickly.

“I can’t I have a class soon-“

“Yeah in like two hours y/n so what’s the rush?” Sidney asks with a questioning look that you didn’t even have an answer to retort back with.

“No rush I-“

“Need to eat lunch! I’m sure Mickey is in there as well you guys haven’t been together much for the past couple of days.” Sidney informs you like you didn’t already know what was happening, an itch to suddenly tell all to the brunette next to you is hard to resist.

“Yeah we had an argument.” You begin in a low voice, but when you notice that Sidney doesn’t look very surprised you add “But I guess everyone knows about that it’s just I’ve been super busy.”

“Either way mickey will find you, so you might as well go and face the music in the cafeteria.” Sidney explains with a misplaced laugh, kind of like you were out of the loop on some inside joke.

“Er, sure fine I have time to grab a quick bite I guess.” You nod despite the rest of your body which was in flight mode, making you want to run away like the victim that you were.

“Perfect, so let’s go!” Sidney cheers grabbing hold of your arm again, as you both head back towards the cafeteria, ignoring the curious glances from the guards leaning against a wall.

“Sid? You do remember that the food here is trash-“

“Oh is it?” Sidney replies only half listening as she pushes open the large dark brown wooden doors, pulling you into the very last place you wanted to be right now.

…with the mall cops hurriedly following behind you both wearing pained looks, which somehow matched your face perfectly.

Noticing the looks from other students whilst being with Sidney, you see that she hasn’t even batted an eyelid, walking confidently towards the line for food tugging at your arm to hurry up.

Your eyes betray you by glancing over towards one of the tables the group sat at often, so of course you spot the back of Mickey’s head as he leans across the table, talking to a bemused looking Derek almost without a care in the world unlike you.

…his dark brown spiky hair sticking out in a million directions, whilst his hands moved around to his animated voice, because the guy was always talking he rarely paused for breath.

This thought makes you think of Sidney and how overdramatic you sounded right now, she had actually been through some shit whilst you had just discovered that your college boyfriend had a kink, which tracked because you had heard a lot of stories about Mickey in bed.

The guy had his own collection of rumours that had made their way to you, on the same day as meeting him you had become even more invested after learning that he liked to use his tongue a lot, which again tracked because you had first hand experience of this.

…both in and out of his bed because the guy would never stop talking sometimes, and the only way to distract him, was with a quick kiss seeing how that always worked in your favour.

“Hello ladies!” Announces a voice that makes you finally look away from staring at Mickey, to come face to face with Randy Meeks a friend within your group, with an embarrassingly obvious crush on Sid that was oh-so-clearly unrequited.

“What do you want?” You ask Randy grumpily unaware that, right now Mickey’s brown eyes were staring directly into your back, as all three of you had joined the line for food.

“Just haven’t seen you around for a bit, how are things with you and the mouse?” Randy questions with a cheesy laugh, whilst staring at Sid who looks down at her feet instead of helping you out.

“Me and Mickey are fine just ignore the rumours-“

“So you still haven’t dumped his stupid ass yet then?” Questions Randy sounding almost in pain as he reaches his point by adding “Man, that guy is so lucky you know that you could do so much better than him!”

“I think that you could do better than this Randy, maybe go and watch some more movies-“

“Is that a date then?” Randy asks you with a wiggle of his eyebrows as he steps back, into the busy crowd surrounding the cafeteria only to disappear seconds later from view.

“In your dreams.” You mutter to yourself making Sidney giggle as she hands you a tray, but you just grab some bags of chips instead ignoring the look on your friends face.

“Are there really rumours about you and Mickey?” Sidney asks making you look away from the staff behind the counter, to see her dark eyes watching you very carefully.

“Probably, but all I know is that we are fine I think, don’t want to overthink things it’s just a college romance-“

“I could easily see me and Derek staying together!” Sidney cuts you off in a dreamy but quiet voice like she hadn’t realise she had just shared that nugget of information.

“I just want to make it through lunch-“

“Let’s go and sit down with everyone else then!” Sidney cuts you off for the hundredth time, but you let it slide because you had other things on your mind currently.

Thoughts like what if Mickey had told the other guys about what had happened, sure college was a time to be adventurous but you didn’t want to get a name, even though you did get asked a lot as to why you were dating the “freaky Tarantino obsessed” guy from film class.

…mostly by Randy who always seemed surprised, that the pair of you were even together still.

But you were the only one who knew Mickey deep down, like how thoughtful he was and not to mention goofy by quoting whole chunks of scenes from movies, even attempting to act out the parts and then critique his own work the guy was a dork to be sure.

You had also often wondered about past girlfriends, the ones who helped fuel some of the rumours around campus that he was a cheap ride, but you knew since meeting him that he was true to you but you weren’t sure how much that statement rung true anymore.

“Are you coming or are you just gonna stand there all day?” Sid asks with a giggle as you pay for your food, then quickly decide to follow her and see what happens, likening yourself to a Dr Pepper commercial.

…what was the worse that could happen?

Not looking where you were going you soon walk straight into the back of Sidney, quickly glancing over her shoulder to see Randy had stopped your roommate in her tracks, because he could never be too far from Sid sure they were friends from before but the guy was obsessed.

“Now what-“

“Did I ever tell you guys about the time when I made mouse boy look like an idiot?” Randy cuts you off with a ridiculous question, that makes Sidney laugh at the face you were currently pulling.

“Mickey would kick your ass if he ever heard you saying that.” Sidney announces with a firm nod, knowing how these two worked when stuck together for too long.

…Randy and Mickey were well- known for always fighting like, well cat and mouse.

“He hates that affectionate nickname you’ve given him by the way.” You reply with a wry laugh.

“Mere foreplay.” Randy retorts with a shrug of his right shoulder.

“Can we get past now-“

“Sshh!” Randy cuts you off once again which makes you glare at him, but he was too busy looking back at the table, where your boyfriend was currently sitting to respond to you which was super rude.

…what was people’s problem today, because sure you had woken up in a mood but this wasn’t helping one bit.

“Are you ready then?” Derek asks looking away from Randy who was talking to his girlfriend Sidney, still with those two idiot looking guards on her tail, which was for her safety of course but he could’ve looked after her a lot better.

“Too late to back out now!” Mickey responds with a smile, because he really was doing this the set up was ready with everyone in their place, plus the euphoric rush he was suddenly feeling reminded him of another time in his life.

…one which makes a smile widen across his face from the graphic memory alone.

“Tone down the smile dude you’re looking a little crazy.” Derek states rewarding Mickey with a look, whilst his roommate shrugs his shoulders unable to stop smiling.

“Hey, this smile gets the ladies!” Mickey declares matter-of-factly, whilst his eyes watch Derek who didn’t look quite convinced.

“Oh sure!” Derek laughs deeply picking at the rest of his fries, but nudging his roommate hard when he notices that you and Sid were finally approaching the table.

…it was game time!

“Babe!” Mickey cheers getting up from his plastic chair to pull one closer for you, noticing the blank look on your face which annoys him briefly, but he continues to focus on the task at hand instead.

“Hey Mickey.” You state with a small smile attempting to make an effort, noticing that both Sidney and Derek, were watching you very closely which wasn’t weird at all.

“And where have you been y/n?” Announces Hallie entering the scene stage right, whilst dropping her plastic tray heavily onto the table, with a look of pure annoyance fracturing her pretty features.

“I’ve been busy-“

“Well did you just forget that you were supposed to be meeting me?” Hallie questions cutting you off whilst still sounding very annoyed, which was all on her really because you hadn’t actually accepted the invite.

“Yeah, but we are all here now!” Sing songs Sidney with a smile aimed at her boyfriend whose blue eyes sparkle back, it was enough to make you skip lunch altogether thanks to a hint of green eyed jealousy.

Sure you liked romance movies which was obviously a criminal offence in Mickey’s eyes, yet he did let you watch the odd one but only if you placed your hand over his mouth, because otherwise he would be ripping into the whole story from start to finish.

“Including the bodyguards looking completely out of place over there.” Hallie states pointing to the two men in dark suits, staring over at our table like something was suddenly about to happen.

“Any of them take your fancy?” You ask Hallie with a smirk, because she was always talking about being the third wheel of the group, even though Randy was clearly single but deeply preoccupied.

“Old white dudes, er no thanks!” Hallie brushes off your comment with a shake of her head, holding up her can of Pepsi to signal that the conversation was now over.

“So, how are you doing Sid?” Derek asks your roommate who rewards him with a quick kiss, which makes you glance at Mickey but he was currently staring into space.

…why did this all feel so fucking awkward?

Not to mention the fact that Derek kept looking from you then back to Mickey, watching you both as if something was about to happen which wasn’t helping your mood at all.

Mickey gives his roommate a dark look when he spots him staring at you, this wasn’t part of the plan he needed to move things along and have this all work out, knowing full well that you hated lots of attention but he wanted you to know how far he would truly go.

��not that you knew how insanely obsessed Mickey could get with things, but all he cared about right now was getting you back on his side, because you were somehow a duo stuck together through thick and thin.

Sure Mickey liked to act solo usually but ever since meeting you, he felt lost by himself so he wanted to show you his whole world, but first he needed to make things right before the real truth came out.

“The sorority house is hosting another party this weekend-“

“Please tell me you are not talking about the fucking Delta’s again!?” Mickey cuts off Hallie who had been talking to Sidney, all about the pretentious sorority sisters that she seemed to gossip about all damn day.

“Excuse me-“

“There are far better things in life than being a Delta!” You cut Hallie off for once as she narrows her eyes at you instead of replying.

“Aren’t you interested in ever joining Delta then?” Begins Mickey nudging one of your elbows with his as he then declares “I would like to see you in one of those little skirts.”

“Not a chance!” You retort with a wry smile that makes Mickey laugh loudly at your admission.

“I think that you would look cute in a pink two piece.” Hallie announces with a fake smile aimed at you, because she knew you hated the colour pink it was a whole thing.

“If you mean a two piece bikini then I definitely agree!” Mickey retorts with an over enthusiastic laugh, which causes you to shake your head firmly in the negative.

There was no chance in hell of you ever wearing a bikini, or joining Delta for that matter but they were far more interested in Sid than either you or Hallie anyway, which suited you fine but the latter was still pretty beat up by the fact.

You turn to look at Mickey to see he is talking to Derek again who is pointing over at something, or someone near the entrance to the cafeteria not that you cared, but you knew it was now time to try and talk to your boyfriend just maybe not here with everyone else.

“Are you ok?” Sidney asks Derek when you also notice at the same time, the suddenly guilty look appearing on his boyish face, whilst he tried to act nonchalant which wasn’t working.

“Dammit.” You swear you hear Mickey say under his breath, but then he quickly recovers by saying to your roommate in a louder voice “I sure am Sidney thanks for asking!”

Then with a well- worn goofy smile on his face Mickey suddenly stands up from his plastic chair, pushing up the sleeves on his dark purple shirt as his brown eyes finally meet yours, at the same time that you hear music begin to play noticing Randy across the cafeteria holding up a big red boom box high in the air.

…shaking his head like he couldn’t believe this was happening right now, because in fact neither could you.

Glancing back at Mickey you see him bouncing slowly from left to right, his hips swaying in time with his open hands as he winks at you, making your eyes widen as you suddenly recognise the music playing…

“If I should stay. I would only be in your way. So I'll go. And yet, I know, I'll think of you each step of the way...” Mickey starts singing incredibly off-key with you watching him in horror, placing a hand over your mouth, as he proceeds to leap back onto his seat then hops up directly up onto your table.

Derek moves the tray’s occupying the table space as Mickey continues to sway to the music, hand now on hip as he turns round to face you whilst you look up feeling helpless.

“Please stop.” You mouth the words quickly to Mickey but he just shakes his head, then carries on straight into the chorus holding both his hands high above his head.

"And iiiiiiiiyyyiii, will always love you oooooowuoooo, will always love you!” Mickey carries on singing even getting a high note or two, before he pulls a face from hearing his own voice echoing loudly around the large room.

Clearly all of this was garnering the attention of everyone in the cafeteria, some pulling the same face as you whilst others were clapping along, because Derek was also now out of his seat as well encouraging others to wave their hands around and join in.

Mickey snatches some notes from another students hand, because they had been waving them at him shoving them into his pants pocket, causing people to start throwing chips in the air around him.

The student body were responding in kind to Mickey’s declaration, of singing a cheesy song but he was used to pulling more crazier stunts, yet if this got you back in his bed then the real fun would truly begin.

“What is even happening here?” Hallie questions in disgust unable to believe, that Mickey somehow knew a freaking Whitney Houston song.

“Someone’s being romantic!” Sidney laughs as you close your eyes embarrassed, wishing that you had never even come into the cafeteria in the first place.

“Mickey please-“

"And I hope life treats you kind, and I hope you have all you dreamed of. I wish you JOYYY." Mickey cuts you off whilst singing the next verse, deciding to jump onto another table coincidently where two of the Delta’s were currently sitting with their mouths both wide open in shock.

“You’re standing on my sandwich!?” Snaps sorority sister Murphy, brushing some of her blonde hair away from her bare shoulder in disgust.

Mickey winks down at the blonde before he turns and blows you a kiss, still singing if you could even call it that, but you knew exactly what he was doing and damn it was actually working.

Everyone is literally clapping now besides you of course as you watch Mickey leap to another table, almost missing it because he was so tall and clumsy but getting his footing right, he then decides to belt out the crescendoing chorus clearly invested in the song which makes you smile widely.

“And I will always love you!!!!” Mickey practically shouts the last line his hips swaying ridiculously, as he then jumps down to rush back over to you, the mall cops finally approaching Randy who drops the red boom box.

…holding both of his hands behind his head like he was under arrest, but they just walk away from him instead, turning round to take in the surrounding commotion in front of them.

“Go to him!” Sidney states practically pushing you from your chair, standing up in a daze as seconds later, Mickey is right in front of you at the same time the music had finally been switched off.

“Well that was a surprise.” You state over the loud clapping, noticing the wide smile on Mickey’s face as he catches his breath his brown eyes staring, as you suddenly melt all over again just like the very first time that you had ever met.

Cheering still fills your ears as you glance to see one of the guards approaching Sid, who was too caught up in watching what was unfolding, with a look on her face that suddenly told you that she was somehow a part of this.

…why hadn’t you noticed any of this until now?!

“I did it all for you.” Mickey explains with a cheeky smile on his face as he then hurriedly elaborates “I know we still need to talk but I want you to know, that I’m all in and I can’t apologise enough.”

“I’m all in-“

You stop talking when you see Sidney is trying to be escorted out of the cafeteria, but she stands her ground with Derek taking hold of her hand, both of them grinning at you and Mickey which causes a smirk to appear on your face.

“Tom Cruise did it better!” Randy exclaims as he approaches the table, whilst some of the students are still watching with wide smiles and grins on their faces.

“I clearly wasn’t doing a fucking Top Gun routine!” Retorts Mickey with a roll of his eyes as he flips Randy the bird, shaking his head at the audacity of his classmates idiotic words.

“You’re way hotter than Tom Cruise by the way..” You inform Mickey who places one of his large hands flat on his chest as he grins wickedly.

“Firstly I clearly got inspiration from the bodyguard, hence the song and secondly, duh I’m taller than Tom Cruise so it’s obvious I’m way better.” Mickey explains with a know-it-all look that you knew very well.

“So now it’s getting personal-“

Before you can finish that sentence Mickey leans down, his lips brushing against yours as you accept the kiss, ignoring the shouts and cheers from all around the cafeteria just focusing on this moment right now instead.

Curling a hand around the front of Mickey’s dark grey tee, you pull him closer to you intensifying the kiss that could easily go on forever, but he eventually is the first to step back to take a breath.

“Wow-“

“What was all this in aid of am I missing something here?” Hallie asks loudly holding a finger to her mouth, looking as if she was gagging but clearly she was just jealous.

“Derek you should take notes!” Grins Sidney having finally got the guards off her back, who were both stood at the front of the food line queue looking pretty out of place yet again.

“I bet that I could sing a lot better than Mickey!” Derek announces with a laugh, as he proceeds to sing a line from another Whitney song you notice, seeing the look on Hallie’s face as she rolls her eyes heavenwards.

“Just leave it to the professionals.” Begins Mickey with a laugh as he explains “Because in this scenario I’m definitely the true professional!”

“Don’t go changing your major just yet!” You inform Mickey, with a cheeky look on your face that you see, he very clearly appreciates.

“You would have gotten away with it to if it weren’t for your shitty singing voice!” Randy misquotes a line from a Scooby Doo cartoon, complete with inoffensive voice that makes Derek laugh at least.

“Ruh roh.” Mickey announces with a perfect impression of the aforementioned cartoon dog.

“Did you know that it wasn’t just Scooby Doo who spoke like that, in fact Astro from the Jetsons was the first-“

“As informative as this conversation isn’t, I do need to go take my girlfriend and have a few words with her.” Mickey cuts off Randy holding out a hand in front of his face, as if to prove that this conversation was now officially over.

“Yeah, words right!” Derek laughs causing Sid to shove him with her left hand against his broad shoulder.

“If you are implying that we are about to head back to my dorm room and get laid, then you would be completely correct!” Mickey states with a wink aimed at you whilst you feel your cheeks start to heat up.

“Mickey-“

“So you need to stay away from our dorm room until this time tomorrow, at least!” Mickey explains to Derek whose laughter disappears when the news sinks in

“But I need to study-“

“Not a chance.” Mickey cuts him off and with another wink complete with smug smile, the kind that drove you wild he takes your hand and the pair of you finally walk out of the cafeteria.

Rushing out of the building together hand in hand, you let out a laugh that you weren’t aware you’d been holding, causing Mickey to stop and face you quickly.

“I missed having you around, so from now on I won’t be letting you out of my sight.” Mickey states taking a step closer to you, whilst his eyes filled with that intense gleam again.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You inform your boyfriend biting your bottom lip playfully which obviously gets his attention.

“No, you are never leaving my bed but we can totally take it slow again-“

“That is the last thing I want right now.” You tell Mickey in a firm voice which makes him cut off whatever he had been about to say.

“What part?” Mickey questions placing both of his hands behind his neck, which of course shows off his muscles that were prominent and a brief distraction for you.

“Don’t go treating me like a porcelain doll, I can take a lot of things.” You announce even surprising yourself, spotting the wide eyed look from Mickey as you state “Just ask me next time, if you want to do something different in bed, because you might actually like the answer.”

“I can definitely do that!” Mickey nods whilst you notice, the look of pure adoration highlighted on his face, which causes you to grin back at your boyfriend playfully.

“I know you can so shut up talking because we need to get back to your dorm room.” You clap causing Mickey to grab one of your hands, and spin you around on the spot, just like something out of a rom com which was very cute.

“I love you.” Mickey states without a second thought in his mind, looking down at you with that confident smile you simply adored.

“I know.” You reply with a straight face aimed up at your boyfriend.

“At last you get a Star Wars reference, but I do also mean what I said.” Mickey informs you in case this conversation was becoming a little confusing.

“Me too.” You inform Mickey with a nod as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards him as your face meets his chest, and you start to finally relax feeling your bad mood disappear as you hugged your boyfriend tightly.

“Get a room!” Shouts Randy appearing behind Mickey with a disgusted look on his face, interrupting the moment with his bad timing.

“Go away Randy.” Mickey states darkly whilst rewarding him with a look that spoke volumes.

“What? I helped you win your fair maiden back and what thanks do I get?” Randy questions in a stupid voice complete with idiotic face to match.

“You carried a boombox-“

“It helped you get the girl!” Exclaims Randy cutting Mickey off with a wave of his hands.

“Let’s talk about this later-“

“One last thing.” Randy begins with a laugh which makes you roll your eyes hard as he asks Mickey “Is Evil Dead 2 a sequel something you have a clear hard on for or is it a remake?”

“Oh my god, it’s clearly a remake talk to me about Army of Darkness that’s an obvious sequel!” Mickey informs Randy his voice steeped in sarcasm whilst his classmate just laughs in his face.

“You are so wrong-“

“Hey Mickey, weren’t we going to go somewhere?” You cut Randy off at the same time that you give your boyfriend a wide eyed look.

“Oh yeah!” Mickey begins with a deep chuckle as he states to Randy “I’m off to go and get laid something you wouldn’t know anything about.”

“I disagree, I know a lot about it!” Randy replies flippantly as he adds “ I’ve watched the movie Basic Instinct a million times.”

“Paused on that one scene right?” Mickey questions with another laugh causing Randy to nod in agreement, both lost in their own Sharon Stone fantasy.

“Do I need to leave you two alone-“

“Of course not babe, let’s go!” Announces Mickey with a cheeky smile, highlighting his chiseled jaw and brown eyes that looked ready to burst.

“Be safe! We don’t want any little Mickey’s walking this earth quoting James Cameron movies.” Randy shouts in despair even holding out a hand in front of him to add to the moment.

“I say we take off, and nuke the site from orbit.” Mickey quotes with a loud chuckle because he always liked to quote his favourite movies.

“It’s the only way.” Declares Randy also quoting the classic film Aliens, then with a nod he walks off in the other direction finally you were alone again.

“You two are so cute together-“

“Back to mine room now!” Cuts in Mickey tugging on your right hand, pulling you towards him as he starts to walk fast like he was on a mission.

Heading back to his dorm room at break neck speed you finally arrive, with Mickey falling onto his messy unmade bed, pulling you down on top of him with a look on his face that said it all.

“Who knew that you were such a secret romantic?” You ask with a sigh when you feel Mickey’s hands, grip tightly onto your hips whilst you straddled him, still both fully clothed but hopefully not for much longer.

“If you tell anyone I will kill you.” Mickey whispers with a smile, which makes you roll your eyes back at him with a giggle.

“There is so much I don’t know about you Mickey, but I want to learn everything and more!” You decide leaning down to kiss Mickey gently, your breath hitches when you feel his tongue brush roughly against yours.

“So you want to know the full Mickey Altieri story?” Mickey asks when you nod and bury your face in his neck, lips meeting skin as you loss yourself in the moment.

“It’s not even a good story.” Begins Mickey making you sit up to see the uneasy look on his face as he continues “ But if you ask me again soon I will definitely tell you.”

“I will hold you to that.” You tell Mickey in a teasing voice noticing the smirk appearing on his face.

“But for now I just need you to take your clothes off.” Mickey informs you with a wide smile, as he lifts up your white tee shirt revealing bare skin.

“You don’t have to ask me twice!” You reply making short work of your tee shirt, quickly removing it over your head and grinning when you spot the look on Mickey’s face.

“That’s a good start but you’ve missed a couple of items of clothing-“

“Want to help me?” You question cutting off Mickey with as innocent a look as you could muster under the circumstances.

“I thought you would never ask.” Mickey demands moving a hand to the button on your pants, deftly undoing it as he then proceeds to pull down the accompanying zip.

..tugging the pants firmly down your hips revealing black underwear, which makes Mickey whine as you work together to get the offending item of clothing off as soon as possible.

Sitting back down onto his lap makes you feel exactly how much he wanted you, his hard cock pushing against the zip of his pants, making you brush your clothed pussy over him which causes him to jerk his hips upwards.

“Fuck!” Mickey curses grabbing at your underwear, but in the end he just moves some soaked fabric to one side his fingers brushing against your pussy lips causing both of you to groan at the same time.

“I need you-“

“Don’t I know it, damn you’re so wet just let me get a little something from my pocket, and the we will be all set.” Mickey declares with a smirk, as he moves one of his hands down to his pants, pulling out a silver foil packet that he rips open with his teeth.

“Hurry up!” You cry sounding bratty even to your own ears, causing Mickey to arch an eyebrow at you making your pussy muscles clench around nothing in anticipation.

“Somebody is excited.” Mickey states with a smile as he undoes his pants causing you to move back a little, watching as he puts on the condom then slowly pulls you closer back to him.

“Ready?” Mickey asks with a smirk as you silently move your body forward, locating the tip of his cock rubbing your lips along his length, then finally taking him as your pussy is filled causing you to cry out.

“You feel so good right now, but please don’t move for like a second or ten ok?” Mickey questions gritting his teeth like he was moments away, from blowing his load which would have put a dampener on things to say the least.

“Did you really miss me this much?” You ask in a low voice moving your hips ever so slightly, to be rewarded by Mickey’s cock throbbing against your pussy walls.

“Of course baby, but if you keep that up this won’t last at all, and I know you don’t want that.” Mickey places a hand on your face then curses when you tease him again with a quick bounce on his cock.

“We can go slow-“

“Or I could in fact do this and hold you in place.” Mickey demands moving his hand down towards your neck, placing it on your throat whilst you give him a small nod, and then gasp when he grips harder keeping you very still on his throbbing cock.

“I don’t want to be anywhere else on this planet right now.” You tell Mickey meaning every word, as you close your eyes and sigh when you feel him, starting to slowly rock his hips causing you to bounce on his cock desperately.

“You won’t be, we’re skipping class and are doing this at least twice more before going to grab some food!” Mickey states with a wide smile the very one that drew you to him, and right now you couldn’t get enough.

“Sex and then pizza what more could a girl actually want!” You giggle then groan when you feel that oh-so-delicious warmth build up, hitting low on your stomach the sensation making you clench hard around his cock.

“A very important double bill of Tarantino movies is always fun?” Mickey questions with a hiss feeling that you were getting close, he was beyond ready to finish but he wanted to tip you over the edge first.

“If I say yes will you fuck me harder?” You reply with a question of your own which goes unanswered, but Mickey must’ve understood when he kicks it up a gear, and pretty soon you feel yourself tipping over and losing glorious control.

Afterwards you roll off Mickey whilst he discards the condom, laying next to him to catch the look on his face, him studying you with those intelligent dark brown eyes.

“So you really want to know my story then?” Mickey asks getting up from the bed, pulling up his pants as he heads to the door double checking the lock was on which was strange.

“Is it boring?” You question back slowly sensing the instant mood change in the room, feeling cold suddenly but then you spot the look on Mickey’s face.

“It’s colourful.” Mickey states with a shrug whilst his face, contorts in anger causing you to wrap your arms around your front self consciously.

“Are you ok?” You ask Mickey noticing how he was flexing both his hands very tightly, and his jaw was locked tight causing him to scowl.

“You tell me bitch!” Mickey states in a dark voice his whole body language transforming suddenly, which makes you feel something you hadn’t ever felt before in front of your boyfriend.

…fear?

[imogenegomi]

Chapter two is now up! 😊

[anonybaby]

I hope y’all are still invested in this story.. and if you are, I thank you so very much for your patience. I hope you enjoy and there will be more to come sooner than later. I promise! 🥹

❤️💙❤️

[takiki16]

I've seen you talk about Helen Wick a lot and her relationship with John and how he was totally devoted to her. In the second movie, we have a nice parallel with Gianna and her relationship with Cassian. What do you think? Is it the same level of commitment? I don't remember if we have something similar in the third movie, it's been a while since I've watched it. But I love the idea of John running into men devoted to their women and being reminded of Helen because of that. Can't wait for Chapter 4 next week!

MY JAM MY JAM MY JAM MY JAM!!!!!!! POUR CHAPTER 4 STRAIGHT INTO MY EYEBALLS!!!!!

Short answer: YES. I think Cassian was absolutely ride or die for Gianna. There is just NO REASON to do a Dramatic Zoom (TM) in on Cassian’s face when he discovers Gianna’s body if there isn’t some level of deeper affection and fealty there!!! Why would Gianna say “what would I do without you, Cassian?” To use a TLT phrase, ANOTHER ONE OF DEVOTION’S CASUALTIES!

Long Answer: yes, I think Cassian is just as devoted as John, but because John chose Helen Wick and Cassian chose Gianna D’Antonio, Cassian doesn’t get to express his devotion the same way?

One of the things that makes us all so hype about the JW franchise is the world building - not only is there an Insane Badass, but he lives within a LARGER FRAMEWORK of insane badasses that have COOL AESTHETIC INFRASTRUCTURE to support their various acts of badassery. John and Cassian may be actively trying to kill each other, but they still vibe because they share…it feels weird to call it a ~*social class*~, because that implies politics I don’t think Chadley and Co. have thought about, but that’s kind of what it is! They know that they are both Service, rather than Management! They come from virtually identical positions on the chessboard! It’s also why I love the John and Sofia scenes in Chapter 3, because her exposition adds more depth and detail to this framework. John may be unique in his SKILL LEVEL, but his actual POSITION in the grand politics of this world means that he still has to kneel when he asks for certain favors. (Which is ANOTHER of the things I loved about Chapter 3 :)))

TO EXTRAPOLATE FROM THAT TO BEAUTIFUL FEALTY MUSINGS: you all already know that I love a subby murderbot who is devoted, body and soul, to the object(s) of their devotion, and it’s even better when there is a FRAMEWORK of subby murderbots who share this common understanding. They may have plot-related disagreements, but even through vengeance there’s always this vibe of “I understand. If it was MY beloved, I would do the same. Now we shall fight to the death, but with that understated Respect (TM).” The only other canon example I can think of is Wheel of Time, but that’s where I see John and Cassian #subbymurderbot4subbymurderbot. And the thing is that Gianna ALSO sees this, which is how she knew exactly the most hurtful thing to say to John when he came for her - the idea that Helen would hate him, for what he was.

HOWEVER - as I said, Cassian can’t express devotion the same way because there is NO WORLD where Gianna D’Antonio agrees to give up the potential political advantage of a marriage, or even a long-term relationship, to make a commitment to her bodyguard - no matter how good or devoted he may be. And there is no world where Cassian would even attempt (and fail miserably) to put Gianna in that position. Has Cassian ever said anything about any potential feelings he might have? Has he admitted it to her…or even himself? What good would it do him, other than make him a potential liability? What good would it do Gianna, to acknowledge that one of her employees would die for her out of deeper emotional reasons than gold coins? I DO think that both of them are aware, and that Gianna has some level of reciprocation even, but I also think that neither of them have ever said anything because…what good would it do? The High Table is not a place where you can have emotional indulgences without returns.

Which makes me think that, in a weird way, Cassian might be jealous of John. A lot of subby assassin murderbots in similar situations might be? And that MAYBE that’s the reason everyone, even people who hated John or were jazzed to have him back, kept saying “I’m sorry about your wife.” To a whole class of subby murderbots who have stalled out in the stoic pining stage where Cassian lives, John achieved the Impossible Dream. HIS person wasn’t his underworld employer, or some other similar backstabbing Underworld denizen, but someone who would allow John to wear his heart on his sleeve, so to speak. And yeah, civilian relationships usually had extremely short literal life spans, but of course the motherfucking Boogeyman pulls off the Impossible Task and manages to get himself a whole LIFE with her!!! He got to marry his person! Legally, even! They got a house and a yard together! John did something that was nOT supposed to be possible for anyone at his level in their world. It’s like if your coworker suddenly did every single job in your workplace for a week by themselves, then immediately won the lottery and left the country, only to have all their money immediately lost in some kind of bank failure. AND someone trashes their car and kills their dog.

I’m imagining like…assassin water cooler talk about John. “Oh, did you hear about Wick? Yeah, he dID it, that crazy bastard! He wiped out all those guys in one night, and then he retired, that mad lad! Didn’t think even HE had it in him! I’ll bet he gets bored and comes back real soon. Couldn’t be me, bro, retiring and living a boring suburban life…with the Person of my Affections…not getting treated like a disposable weapon all the time…SO BLAND, right? I give it two months. Fuck that guy, anyway. Oh…oh she died? After only five years? After…after everything? Oh god, who ordered the…oh. Ouch. Hey man, I’m sorry about your wife.”

SO TO RETURN TO YOUR POINT about Cassian reminding John of Helen bc he keeps running into other subby murderbots - YEAH. I DO THINK HE DOES. I know that polite coldness is sort of etiquette in the Continental, no matter how much you might hate someone, but John goes to the trouble of telling Cassian why he did what he did. Heck, he CONFESSES to Cassian what he did in the absolute worst possible context, even though John could easily have lied at the party and said he was there to kill some other famous underworld boss. It would have bought him a few minutes! But no, John tells Cassian everything because HE would want to know, in Cassian’s shoes. John is fresh off a massive murder spree because someone took Helen’s last gift to him - he knows exactly how Cassian feels right now.

I think that John is lowkey both a legend and a cautionary tale to people like Cassian, because hey. Even if all your dreams come true and you get to build that perfect life with your person, you could lose everything just like that (see Marcus: “It’s days like this scattered among the rest.”). Is it better to just keep your mouth shut and serve their interests as best you can right now? Or do you gamble everything on an Impossible Task, with the possibility that you lose everything anyway?

[madaboutmunson]

WIP Wednesday

Here is a treat as I haven’t posted something in forever.

[captions welcome]

I went for:

“Eddie doesn’t like the show and he’s gonna make it a problem!”

Other things:

I’m working on a lot of different events and projects right now. I’m still writing a fic that turned into a bit of a beast, but once it’s finished I’ll be posting chapters on a more regular basis for it.

So here is a snippet from that mini beast

ITICHBS (it’s a secret 🤫 😂)

rockstarSteve x photographerEddie

Eddie goes to type back, but he feels the car slow to a stop. A crunch of gravel and muffled voices. Moments later, his door is opened.

"Mr Munson?" The woman asks as Eddie steps out and nods. The car is swarmed by athletic people sporting black security uniforms.

The woman in front of him makes eye contact with her team members and then looks back at him, "Your agent said you were staying?"

"I-I am. Just not here." Eddie says nervously. He was supposed to be, that's what Marney had advised, but Eddie had dug his heels in and got an airport hotel instead, at his own expense, "I'm so bad at waking up for flights, so," he scratches the back of his neck, "the closer, the better."

She folds her arms and levels him with a look before scanning him up and down. "You don't want to spend the night? Stay in Steve Harrington's house?" She almost laughs out the last question.

Eddie figures it's something ingrained in him that is making him nervous with all these official-looking uniforms around him, "Not if I wanna keep this job," he says with a forced laugh, looks down and rubs his stomach, "I should really learn that fast food doesn't always agree with me." He raises his eyes to her to see if his performance has landed, and though he's not sure she believes the story, she seems happy enough to accept it for some reason. She extends her hand to him.

"Buckley. Head of security here for Mr H. This is my team. Get to know their faces and names if you care to. If it's not one of us telling you, it's not mandatory." She says and waves him through the huge ornate gates that slowly open as she signals to the house.

Eddie quirks an eyebrow at that. Mandatory? If it's not one of us? What did that even mean? She didn't look like your typical bodyguard or security guard that Eddie had seen over the years, but knowing he'd be meeting her at the gates, he'd done his research.

Robin Buckley. She'd only ever worked with Harrington, no one before, no one in-between. She wasn't a waif by any stretch of the imagination, but she was not your typical heavy-set build either. However, the footage Eddie had unearthed last night definitely sent the message home that she is not to be fucked with. She easily kept the crazies at bay, and Harrington's humanising posts about how safe he felt with her around, made her a fan favourite. Even though she was often the only thing standing between him and his adoring followers.

He'd seen three times caught on film she'd intercepted a weapon or projectile aimed at Harrington. One effortlessly caught out of the air, cool as anything. Then there was a guy with a gun who had been leg swept to the floor, had his wrist snapped, and was disarmed in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it display of prowess. You could see on the video Harrington hadn't seen any of it. Busy leaning back into the crowd for a selfie at the barrier with a fan's phone. Her team carried that guy away, and she just fell back into step beside him. The third was definitely the most terrifying. Mainly due to the fact, there were so many different views of the same event because it happened whilst Harrington had been singing one of his most famous songs. It looks like a fan rushes the stage, not uncommon, but as Harrington shuts his eyes to croon to the crowd under the spotlight, something catches the light in the fan's hand, and if this had been a movie, you'd swear this would be the singer's last scene. But it wasn't. From out of nowhere, Buckley's big black boot steps into the light and puts the assailant in a choke hold from behind. They were out for the count in seconds and pulled back with her into the darkness.

Hope you liked it 🥰

[zimithrus]

63 and 14 for the mashup prompts! 👀

Rules: Send me two (2) tropes from this list + a ship and I’ll describe how I’d combine them in the same story.

14. Bodyguard AU 63. Everybody Knows/Mistaken For A Couple

I'm gonna go with Clack/Zakkura for this one! Tis my fave and the easiest for me to write lol! 🥰

Zack always wanted to be a hero - it was his greatest dream for as long as he can remember! But he had no idea that once he became a hero the publicity would absolutely skyrocket! Like, he thought the crowds of people and fans flocking and ogling over Sephiroth was bad, but for himself? Someone much more happy, bubbly, friendly, and approachable?

Good Gaia he was drowning in fans!

So much to the point that even leaving the Shin-Ra compound to go buy groceries required an infantry escort to keep them off him. So, naturally, he was assigned a near 24/7 escort with how often he needed to leave the compound. Among this escort was a cadet named Cloud, who seemed very small and timid at first glance, but get too close and those eyes would go sharp and he'd practically start growling. Try to skim a touch of Zack? Cloud would promptly knock them back and bark about space and distance. He was very serious about his role and about keeping unwanted touches and sights off Zack, which, Zack appreciated, because as nice as he could be, some of those fans just got too crazy! Like that one time when a fan actually managed to tackle Zack and almost knock him to the ground, but Cloud was able to catch him and promptly raise hell on that fan! "Back up!" He growls at them. "You could have hurt him! I said back up! Don't make me get the mace!!"

So, the fans starting calling Cloud 'Zack's little Pomeranian', but learned not to get too close or he'd bite!

And over the course of time, Zack and Cloud having been paired together for a long time, grew close and formed a fast friendship, and eventually the fans started talking (as they always do) and eventually rumor got out that the puppy and his Pomeranian were an item. Zack's constant flirty teasing when they were out in public definitely didn't help that! Of course, it would get denied and brushed aside by Cloud, telling them it's not like that, but you better keep your distance!

Though one sleepy morning, Cloud and Zack cuddled up to each other, tangled in the sheets and each other's warmth, Zack smiles.

"If only they knew just how gentle my little Pomeranian could be after a few treats and pets."

Cloud rolls his eyes at that, "Shut up," he huffs and kisses him.

Ahh thank you so much for the ask!! This one was so much fun!! II hope I followed the prompts well! 💚💚

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Cesar gently squeezed Jonah’s hand, quietly reminding him to breathe.

They’d just saved the other man from a run down cabin in Mandela woods, him having been kidnapped in 1998. The captor was dead now, beaten to an unrecognizable mess on the floor by an enraged Seth. Cesar couldn’t blame him.

Now that they’d gotten Jonah back to base, however, Sarah convinced the eldest to take a shower and change, citing that the blood splattered all over him could potentially make Jonah have a panic.

Though, as Cesar's hand was harshly squeezed in return with a panicked wheeze, he wished Sarah had waited until Jonah had fallen asleep.

The minute Seth had gone out of sight, Jonah began to panic, breathing harshly and scratching at his arms until they bled. Cesar and Sarah stopped him before he could do any more damage to himself, and were now waiting for Seth to come back.

Which thankfully wasn’t that long of a wait.

As the eldest exited the bathroom, Jonah immediately relaxed at the sight of him. Sarah stopped her pacing to approach Seth and lightly push him towards the other two boys on the couch.

Sighing lightheartedly, Seth obliged, sitting on Jonah’s other side and carefully grabbing his free hand.

Sniffling slightly, Jonah leaned onto Seth’s shoulder and closed his eyes, finally falling asleep.

[one, completely platonic. two, writers block slapped me in the face and this is the best i got rn- /lh]

Awwwwh :( /lh

Got damn. Jonah needs a break for real

[mis-mcgifsten]

Perfect

Look, the biggest hurdle for Fox when it comes to getting used to Alderaanian customs or living as a Royal consort is not the upper-class life. Not the etiquette. Not the politics. Nothing like that. He got used to all of that while being in the Senate and around rich people for three years.

No, it's that he's a highly-trained elite soldier used to dealing with assassins, bounty hunters and alike. He's also a former Commander whose commanding style was essentially "I'll go first and you come after me and watch what I do okay let's go". He's also hyper-protective of his wife and husband because hey. That was his job for three years and he also loves them a lot.

So now he's still running head first into every dangerous situation, but now he's not wearing full-body armor anymore. Your Highness stop, Your Highness come back, Your Highness where did you get that blaster, please send someone, His Royal Highness is fist-fighting his own assassin.

[theagstd]

list of fan fic recommendations by AU

these are fan fictions that i've read / yet to read that i've organised so it's easier to find them. all the fics are super cool and non-cringe so you've definitely got to read em.

so far i've updated some of the jjk fan fics, there's more to update which i'll do later during this week. pjm and myg fics will also be updated.

wattpad fics will be updated in this list too.

and i'll be updating them at the end of every month when i come across new fics.

Jeon Jungkook fics

best friends/childhood friends AU

brother's bestfriend/bestfriend's boyfriend AU

bodyguard AU

boxer/gangster AU

ceo AU

co-workers AU

single parent AU

enemies to lovers AU

exes to lovers AU

fantasy AU

fake dating AU

fuckboy/fratboy AU

friends with benefits/fuck buddies AU

idol/popstar/celeb AU

hybrid AU

neighbors AU

roommates AU

strangers to lovers AU

soulmates AU

teacher AU

yandere AU

other jobs (tattooist/baker/sugar baby/racer etc) AU

Park Jimin fics

best friends/childhood friends AU

brother's bestfriend AU

ceo AU

college AU

co-workers AU

enemies to lovers AU

exes to lovers AU

fantasy AU

fake dating AU

fuckboy AU

friends with benefits/fuck buddies AU

idol/popstar/celeb AU

hybrid AU

neighbors AU

parents AU

single dad AU

strangers to lovers AU

sugar daddy AU

soulmates AU

yandere AU

other jobs (stripper/racer/doctor/stalker etc) AU

Min Yoongi fics

will be updating....!

[onlymingyus]

give it to me

pairing;  jeon wonwoo x f!reader

genre; smut (minor dni), angst, toxic, fluff

summary; From the outside looking in your life is perfect. It's the perfect ones who are the most fucked up and have the most to lose, or so you thought.

dark/content warnings; murder, kidnapping, talk of abuse, talk of solicitation, illusion to sexual abuse, wonwoo is not a nice guy for a large part of this fic -- hitman!wonwoo, kidnapper!wonwoo, ransom negotiations, corrupt business world, seedy gang/mob underworld, crying (pain and mental pain), depression, fucked up family dynamics, yn has parents/parent death mentioned, police, dead bodies, blood, guns, lying, eating/drinking -- i am sure there is more, this fic can be a lot. please consider the warnings before you read. 

smut warnings; unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, oral (m receiving), begging, crying (pleasure), olfactophilia/mysophilia (panty sniffing), grinding, petnames

w/c; 22k and some change (980~ bonus on patreon only) 

a/n; thank you to my @junkissed for proofreading this for me! i know i am on a dark fic kick. thank you all for going along on this ride with me -- perhaps you might catch some easter eggs 🤫 -- i really hope you enjoy this one.

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

“Stop pouting.” 

You throw a contemptuous glare towards Wonwoo from the rearview mirror as he sits in the passenger's seat. He was a handsome man with strong features that made you both nervous and furious. He had been assigned to your personal security by your father in the past week after some changes and discoveries with your previous bodyguard had come to light. 

While you didn’t care who watched over you, it was important to your father, who was by his daughter’s side. You had no assumptions that it was because he loved you; no, it was more that you were the heiress of his multimillionaire dollar stock trading company and his only living child. 

“I don’t want to go.” 

Shaking his head, Wonwoo glances down at his phone to see a text message from your father, only to let out a sigh. He knew you didn’t want to go; you had been telling him that all day. You were a brat. You were every bit the part of Mr. Y/L/N’s daughter and he could tell that you lived a very charmed life. Rarely were you told no, and the times you were, you threw a fit. 

“It doesn’t matter if you don’t. Today isn’t about you, Y/N. It’s about your father, but you are well aware of that. We’ve talked about it enough times today. Stop pretending that you don’t like attention.” 

Rolling your eyes, you lean your head back as Wonwoo talks down to you. You hated him. He was worse than any other bodyguard that your father had put in his place. He was strict and he degraded you. Your last bodyguard was a sweet man who would let you sneak out and get laid, but Wonwoo was an asshole who triple locked your door. 

“Fuck you. You don’t know me. Stop acting like you do. God, I can’t wait for you to get fired.” 

Smirking, Wonwoo glances at you in the rear view mirror, letting his eyes move over your pretty features as the car comes to a stop outside of the venue. The flashes of cameras already make him feel anxious, but he has started to get used to it. They weren’t looking at him, they were looking at you. 

“That’s sweet, Princess. I don’t want you to like me. They want you to like them.” Wonwoo gestures his head towards the window, drawing your eyes to where people are falling over one another to try to catch a glimpse of you. “Your fans and daddy are waiting.” 

Reaching for your door, you pull on the handle, instantly feeling frustration take hold of you when it doesn’t budge. Glancing back at you, Wonwoo grins before opening his door and moving to yours. Opening it from the outside with ease, the man looks down at you with a smug expression.

You hear your name yelled by several people and lights flash in your eyes before Wonwoo steps in front of the photographers, allowing you to step out of the vehicle. At least he was good for something. Meeting his eyes, you narrow yours for a moment before putting on a pretty, fake smile, letting him know he could move and allow your picture to be taken. 

Wonwoo stays on your left, his eyes watchful as he moves them from you to the crowd and back. He was good at what he did. He could feel the weight of his gun on his side, but he knew he wouldn’t need it, not even if someone did try something. His hands were more than enough to take care of them, but his gaze was deterrent enough. There was something dangerous, almost feral, about Wonwoo’s eyes that told anyone and everyone not to fuck with him, including you. 

Hearing your name, your father sighs and looks towards the double doors. Appearances were everything for him and you looked like you were worth every single penny he had spent on you. While you left much to be desired on the business front, at least he could count on you to look stunning on the front page of a magazine along with his last name. You could make his company's stocks climb by 3% with a smile on a good day, and today was a great day or at least your father wanted it to be. 

“Mm, Y/N, darling.” 

You keep your fake smile on your face, letting your father’s lips brush the corner of your lips before he takes your arm into his. His grip is a little too tight for your comfort, but at events like this, it always is. You hated business dinners. You despised talking to the business partners and their “handsome” heirs. None of them were attractive, no matter how many times your father told you to tell them they were. 

“I want you to meet two of my oldest friends, Hyong Songmin and Hong Jinyoung.”

Clenching your jaw, you glance at your father, knowing where this is going, before he squeezes your forearm to the point of pain and your eyes move to the two older businessmen. 

“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes watching you put on a face for the old men. He could tell you didn’t want to be there anymore than he did. Glancing at his watch, he sighs under his breath and purses his lips, listening to the conversations around him while keeping up the appearance of guarding you and your father. 

Reaching out to take your hand from your father, Hyong Songmin is just a bit faster than Hong Jinyoung. Your brow lifts out of curiosity at the two men and their obvious competitive nature before you laugh a bit awkwardly, feeling the older man’s lips brush against the back of your knuckles. 

“No, dear… the pleasure is mine. I wish my son Kihyun was here today, but at least I’m not the only one with a missing son.” 

Rolling his eyes, Jinyoung looks you over, almost appraising you, before he meets your father’s eyes and tilts his head like he’s considering a deal. 

“He’s not wrong. Joshua was, I quote, “just too busy with numbers” to attend today. I’m certain he would be ashamed to have missed the opportunity to meet you, Miss Y/L/N.” 

You had met Hyong Kihyun before and you had heard some rumblings about Joshua Hong, but you knew what this was really about. This was about your father, his company, and mergers. 

“What a shame... perhaps we can set up another time for my beautiful daughter to meet with either of your dashing sons in the near future. Dinner?” 

Gritting your teeth, you look in your father’s direction, meeting his eyes, only to feel his hand wrap back around your arm. 

“I’m so busy, Father. I’m sure that both of their sons are as well, no matter how large the dowry is.” 

Your father scoffs into a laugh upon hearing the two men laugh at your "joke.” Luckily for him, they had found it amusing, but he had not. Digging his fingers into your arm, your father’s eyes burn holes into your face before he looks towards Wonwoo, clearing his throat to get his attention. 

“My apologies, gentleman. My daughter has her mother’s tongue. Mr. Kim?” 

Lifting his brows, Wonwoo smirks at the name before he meets your father’s eyes, taking your arm when offered to him as your breath quickens. You watch as he leans closer to the bodyguard, whispering something into his ear, only for the man to meet your eyes and nod. 

“Now, where were we? Ah yes, planning dinners for our children. Mine needs a meal and a good night's rest today, but seeing as how your sons aren’t here…” 

You feel Wonwoo guide you towards the back of the banquet hall as your father turns his eyes away from you, distracting his guests. He was good at that, diverting attention from people and things he was ashamed of. That was the reason your mother wasn’t around anymore and no one ever asked why. That was why you were always leaving early if you spoke out of turn, like you did tonight. 

Tugging at Wonwoo’s grip, you feel his hand tighten around your wrist, but he never holds you to the degree that your father does. It never hurts, he always knows when to stop and that you will follow him anyway. 

“Leave it alone, Y/N. You didn’t want to be there anyway.” 

Learning against the wall, you sigh as Wonwoo looks out into the alleyway, waiting for the car to come into view. Glancing back at you, he lifts his brows, almost feeling sympathy for you, but what was there to feel sorry for? You weren’t the type of person that Wonwoo felt anything for. 

Pulling at your elbow, Wonwoo kicks the door to the noisy venue, leaning down to glance in the vehicle and nod at the driver. You hear him mutter a few words before you are ushered into the back, like always. You were used to this song and dance. Anytime you would embarrass your father, it didn’t matter who your bodyguard was, you were always sent back to your apartment and called later with a firm reminder of who you were and who you belonged to. 

So when the car turns in the opposite direction of your apartment, you furrow your brows and look towards the front seat, seeing the wide eyes of your driver. You didn’t know the man’s name; it had never seemed important until this moment. Today he looked scared and you weren’t sure why until he muttered something towards your bodyguard and his voice got louder, feeling the barrel of the gun against his side. 

“I don’t—okay!” 

Tears instantly threaten to well up in your eyes at the sight in front of you. Has your driver done something wrong? Was he a bad man? Has Wonwoo noticed something you hadn’t? Swallowing hard, you reach for your cellphone to do something, anything, when you hear Wonwoo’s tongue click in disapproval. 

“Give it to me. Now, Y/N. I won’t fucking ask again.” 

Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes, you see that dangerous look making your brows furrow. Seeing his outstretched hand, you whine and shake your head, realizing the situation was the opposite of what you had quickly deduced. Your driver had done nothing wrong. Wonwoo was doing this. You barely knew Wonwoo. He had been assigned to you for less than a week. 

“Wonwoo…” 

“Now!” 

The tears spill on your cheeks when Wonwoo yells at you. You put your cellphone into his hand and sit back in your seat before glancing towards both doors. Your mind goes back to when you arrived at the venue and how Wonwoo had to open your door from the outside. 

“Pull into this parking garage. Fuckin—why are you two making me repeat myself? Just do it!” 

You close your eyes, hearing your driver’s head hit the side of his door when Wonwoo forces the man’s head hard against it. The man lets out a painful sound, along with affirming words, as you feel the car take a sudden left and any light from outside is taken by the oppressive walls of the concrete parking garage. 

The moment the car is in park, you look around for a way to get out, but the sound of Wonwoo’s gun going off pulls your attention back towards him quickly. Meeting his eyes, your hands over your ears, you watch him speak, but you just shake your head until he grits his teeth and forces your hand from your head. 

“Fucking listen to me, Y/N. Be a good girl and I won’t have to hurt you.” 

Your eyes shift to the body of your driver slumped over the steering wheel and the panic rushes back through you, causing Wonwoo to jerk your arm once again. 

“You are worth more to everyone without a bullet in you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t. Do you understand me?” 

Pleading words fall from your lips just above a whisper as Wonwoo lets go of your wrist, leaning over the man in the driver’s seat. You hadn’t noticed the gloves that Wonwoo always had on until now. It took your brain being shocked into reality for things to sink in. Your door is locked from the outside. The gloves on Wonwoo’s hands. Was that his real name? Kim Wonwoo? 

Pushing the body with his knee, Wonwoo grunts and watches the body fall with a thud next to the car. It wasn’t ideal, but it would work. The parking garage was in a secluded part of town and it would take at least a few hours, if not a day for someone to stumble upon it. 

Looking into the rearview mirror, Wonwoo lifts his eyebrows at you as you tremble visibly. He knew you were scared. That was something you were feeling for once, and that made sense. All the times over the past week that he has seen you be unreasonably annoyed over simple shit made this even easier. 

“Let’s go for a drive, Princess.” 

Rubbing at the mascara drying on your fingers, you feel the car come to a stop. Wonwoo sighs, his brows furrowing as he looks around at the empty parking garage and finally back at you. You hadn’t spoken since he had started driving, but he wasn’t complaining. He could hear you crying, your pathetic little whimpering as he drove, but that had been the most of it. You had been resigned to what was happening. You had been “a good girl,” and Wonwoo could give you a bit of credit for that. 

“Home sweet home, Y/N.” 

Looking up, you furrow your brows at the sight around you. This parking garage had clearly not been used in years, probably closer to a decade. The building itself is probably in similar, if not worse, condition. There was nothing about this that you wanted to call home, but as Wonwoo opened his door and moved to yours, opening it, the gun pointed in your direction, and you knew you didn’t really have much of a say. 

“Wh–why are you doing this? Did my father not pay you enough?” 

Scoffing, Wonwoo sighs, leaning back against the door as he waits impatiently for you to gather the train of your tight dress and slide towards him. 

“I thought you were supposed to be smart. Isn’t that what all those degrees on your office wall are for?” 

Your stomach twists at Wonwoo’s words as your high heels unsteadily meet the uneven concrete of the garage. Reaching out with his free hand, Wonwoo tugs you upward and keeps your body against his, letting the barrel of his gun rest against your abdomen as he walks with you. 

“This is ridiculous, Wonwoo. You’re throwing your life away, and for what? A paycheck—” 

Scoffing at your words, Wonwoo cuts you off with a look as he kicks open a heavy door to the stairwell. Obviously, the elevator wouldn’t work in a building like this. You whine at the idea of the stairs in your heels, your eyes searching Wonwoo’s as he shakes his head and digs the gun into your side. 

“You’re the one who’s ridiculous. You look ridiculous and you are acting pathetic. Walk!” Raising his voice, Wonwoo feels your body jerk in his arms before you do as he says and move forward up the stairs. “This isn’t about some stupid ass security job. This is about your daddy, and him paying for you. I was hired to take you, Princess.” 

You feel your knees buckle. Wonwoo’s fingers dig into your arm, lifting you back up as he rolls his eyes at your reaction. He figures you are playing the role of the grief stricken daughter, but in reality, you are fighting the urge between laughing and crying. Your father? Paying for you? Who was stupid enough to think that he would? 

Using his shoulder, Wonwoo pushes open the door to one of the many rooms before letting you stumble inside in front of him. You look around, your brows furrowing in confusion and you feel some disgust at the sight in front of you. You weren’t sure what you had expected. The rest of the building hadn’t given you the impression that any of the apartments would be in good condition, so seeing it firsthand shouldn’t be surprising. 

“Welcome home.” 

You give Wonwoo a look of contempt, making him laugh as he gestures towards a dusty couch with his gun. You didn’t want to sit on the couch. The first thought in your head was that the dress you were wearing cost thousands of dollars and that cleaning it would cost hundreds, but the look in Wonwoo’s eyes made you take a step in its direction. 

“He won’t pay you any money for me. If—listen, Wonwoo... if you let me go, I can pay you the money myself.” 

Sighing, Wonwoo lifts his free hand to his brows, rubbing hard as he watches you. He could see you hesitating to sit down. The way you were brushing at the couch with your fingers only to rub them together as if you were in pain. When you finally sit down, you look stiff and struggle to not let any of your skin touch the dusty material under you. 

“Doubt this is about what you can offer, sweetheart. Get comfortable, you are going to be here for a while. So stop acting like you are going to get the plague from some dust.” 

Wrinkling your nose to the smell of rot, you force your eyes open. You hope that everything that has happened has been a bad dream. Instead, you open them to find things were worse than you remembered. Whining, you push against the leather couch, searching for a way out, only to find Wonwoo leaning against the door, his eyes on you. 

“How was your nap?”

It was interesting to see you like this, out of your element. Wonwoo had grown accustomed to seeing you prim and proper. Your outfits are always in perfect condition—not a hair out of place. Now you are starting to show signs of wear. You had grime on your cheek from falling asleep on the couch, which you hated so much. At least he had been nice enough to let you sleep somewhere soft. 

Rubbing at your cheek, you turn your eyes away from Wonwoo as you shake your head. You were stiff and uncomfortable. You had only fallen asleep out of exhaustion, not because you wanted to or because you were comfortable. The last thing you wanted to do was fall asleep around him. 

“I want to go home.” 

Nodding, Wonwoo runs his fingers along his palm. He knew what you wanted. You had told him many times before finally passing out for a few hours. He had slept off and on, but he was used to living like this. He was a light sleeper and with one movement from you, Wonwoo knew he would be on his feet, ready to put you back where you belonged. 

“And you know the answer to that. So stop fucking telling me. Tell me something different.” 

Biting at your lips, you blink back your tears, glancing over at Wonwoo again. He was so cruel. You try to imagine a world before today when you actually found him attractive and enjoyed pushing his buttons. The idea of it was terrifying now. You had no idea who you had been teasing. You had enjoyed pushing your bodyguards to their limits until you met Wonwoo. 

“You are such an asshole.” 

Wonwoo smirks, his thumbnail tracing the longest line in his palm as he looks over your face, even from a distance. Even with all that grime on your face, you were still beautiful. It was a pity that you were such a bratty bitch. 

“Thanks, I try. You’ve made it easy with your stunning personality.” 

Scoffing, you rub your arms, the chill in the air causing chill bumps to spread along your skin. Wonwoo watches you shiver, his brows furrowing, before he rolls his eyes and moves to his feet with a loud sigh. You watch as he moves to a duffle bag you hadn’t noticed before. Rummaging through it, he tosses a protein bar on your lap, followed by a bottle of water. 

“Eat, we are gonna be here awhile.” 

Your stomach growls at the idea of food. It had been hours since you had eaten anything substantial. Anytime before you would attend an event, you had a habit of skipping a meal in an attempt to make your dress fit better. Now you were mentally cursing yourself for the tradition. 

“I’m fine.” 

Shrugging, Wonwoo takes out his own bottle of water, tossing the cap down on the floor before tipping the bottle back on his lips. His eyes never leave your face as he swallows the water in large gulps until, finally, the last of the water is gone. 

“Suit yourself. I’m not going to force you to eat or drink, Y/N. But trust me, starving yourself won’t make you a martyr. No one cares that much.” 

Wonwoo’s words bite at your self esteem. You look down, your stomach turning as tears run down your cheeks. You knew he was right. Your father probably hadn’t realized you were gone yet, not if the person who had wanted you kidnapped hadn’t sent him a ransom note. Even if they had, your father would keep it quiet until he couldn’t. 

The dinner had ended a few hours ago and your father had already started nursing his headache in typical fashion, a glass of brandy in his hand from the moment he stepped into his house. You had disappointed him. He wished that just once you could attend a business function with him, put a smile on your face, and keep your mouth shut. 

Luckily for him, both men he had hoped would be interested in his proposition had left him with some hope for the future. You hadn’t completely fucked up everything he had been working for. Out of the two men, your father hoped that Hong Jinyoung’s son would be the one who took the bait. While both of the companies were worth something, Hong Investments was like a beacon, and your father was swimming towards the dollar signs. 

Settling into his chair, your father furrows his brows at his phone and the lack of messages from you. You knew he was upset with you. He had sent you away with the new bodyguard, what was his name again, Kim? Sighing, the older man presses down on your name and puts his phone to his cheek, leaning back to take a sip of his alcohol and listening to the phone ring until your voicemail picks up. 

Cursing under his breath, your father tries your number again with the same result before scowling at your picture on his phone. You were ignoring him? You were a prideful brat, but you weren’t a complete idiot. You knew that he would cut off your credit cards if you made him mad enough; no, something else was going on. 

Just as he was about to press down on your name for the third time, an unknown number appeared on his phone. Furrowing his brows, your father starts to wonder if perhaps something happened to your phone—this was you calling from a new number. That didn’t make sense. Sighing into his words, he answers the phone with annoyance and confusion evident in his tone. 

“Hello?”

The man on the other side of the phone smirked at hearing how annoyed your father seemed. He had never met Mr. Y/L/N, but he had heard stories and he knew the man’s pockets were deep. 

“Mr. Y/L/N, good evening.” 

Scoffing, thinking that it’s a solicitor or even a collector of some kind, your father starts to press the end button before he hears the man speak again. 

“Missing something—or someone, I should say?” 

There were many things that your father didn’t enjoy and being pulled along and fucked with was one of them. Sitting up, he narrows his eyes, glancing down into his glass of brandy before taking a sip and letting out a breath between his teeth before answering the man. 

“Like what? Who is this?” 

A grin stretches on the other man’s face as he leans back in his chair, glancing down at the picture of you on his desk. Using the tip of a pen, he pushes the picture around aimlessly before letting out an unamused laugh at the old man’s questions. 

“Don’t play senile. I know you are wondering where Y/N is. As for my name, just call me Mr. Park.” 

There were plenty of Mr. Park’s in Seoul. Rolling his eyes, your father clenches his hand around the brandy glass before sitting it down hard on the table in front of him. 

“Fine, Mr. Park, where is my daughter?” 

Now they were getting somewhere. This is how money is made. Park Bonhwa grins at your picture once again, pulling it back towards him. You were beautiful and even in the candid picture he had of you, he could tell that you were expensive. You were worth every penny he had been offered to set up this job. 

“With a friend... where she will stay, until we can come to an agreement.” 

At those words, a smile pulls at your father’s lips. The idea of you being kidnapped is ridiculous; you had a bodyguard—handpicked by him—with you at all times. Shaking his head, he laughs, causing Park Bonhwa’s grin to slip and his jaw to tighten. 

“You think this is some kind of fuckin’ joke, old man? I’ll have him cut off her fingers one by one and put them on your door. Don’t you ever laugh at me again.” 

It was a joke and your father wasn’t intimidated. He would prefer to have you back in one piece, but how much this Mr. Park wanted for you was going to determine that. This wasn’t the first time that your father had been threatened and he wouldn’t turn over and show his belly to just anyone. 

“Apologies; please continue with your script. How much are you wanting for my daughter?” 

Furrowing his brows, Bonhwa finds himself a bit flustered and confused by your father’s tone and his choice of words. Was he not concerned about your safety or the condition you might be returned in? Shaking his head, he pushes forward with his task as he licks his lips and pushes your photo away. 

“10 billion won, and I can promise she will be returned to you safe—” 

“You have to be fucking kidding me.” 

After being cut off by your father, Bonhwa grits his teeth and sits up in his chair. He hadn’t played the middle man for many kidnappings, but they had never been unsuccessful. Yours shouldn’t be either. The plan seemed flawless; you were going to die either way. 

“Excuse me?” 

Standing up, your father shakes his head and looks at the phone as if the man is standing in front of him and he could shake some sense into him. He was looking at the phone as if he could teach the man how to do business better, as if the man wasn’t telling him he wanted money for his daughter’s life. 

“She’s not worth that amount of money. Where did you pull that number from? Your ass?” 

Picking at the granola bar, you could feel Wonwoo’s eyes on you when his cellphone had gone off in his pocket. Yours had gone off a few times earlier, but he had just glanced at it and finally turned it off before putting it back in his pocket. You figured it was your father and by the look on Wonwoo’s face, he wasn’t in the mood for your phone or his. 

“What?” 

Watching him, you furrow your brows as Wonwoo lifts his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance. Maybe it was his boss? Did he have one? He had said he was hired to take you, so there was someone in charge of this. If so, why did Wonwoo look so annoyed by the man? 

“Negotiations? So what the fuck—no? What? No, I fuckin—you know what?” 

The conversation didn’t seem to be going well. If it were about your father, you could only imagine how poorly it could be. You had tried to warn Wonwoo and you had tried to make this easier on yourself and him, and yet here you sat on a filthy couch in the middle of nowhere. 

Park Bonhwa’s voice was like tin foil on a grater to Wonwoo. The man was an idiot, but he had lined Wonwoo’s pockets for this job. However, this job was starting to look like more of a pain in the ass than it had to be. 

“Don’t you tell me anything, Jeon! You’re my help. I hired you. He’s gonna agree; he just needs the motivation. Take a picture of the little bitch after you rough her up.” 

Shaking his head, Wonwoo glances over at you, watching you glance down quickly. You were afraid of him or at least afraid of the situation. He didn’t want to rough you up; he didn’t hit women. Sure, he had taken you and threatened you, but he had never hit you. He had never hit a woman in his life. Killed them? That was left up for debate, if they deserved it. 

“Yeah, whatever…” 

Hanging up, Wonwoo drops his hand to his side as he tilts his head. You already looked like shit. Maybe he could figure out another way to do this. 

“Y/N, get up. Come over here.” 

You swallow hard and shake your head. You weren’t sure what he had been told to do and you didn’t want to make any of it easy for him. Has your father really said no? Was he going to kill you now? Make you walk to him so he could put a bullet in your head? Deviantly, you grab at the couch under you, letting the granola bar slip off your lap and into the floor as Wonwoo watches his frustration rise. 

“Get the fuck up! I am giving you the chance to do this yourself. Don’t make me fucking move you myself.” 

When you still don’t move, sitting firmly on the couch, Wonwoo lets out a frustrated groan that almost sounds like a growl from his throat. Your eyes meet his and he sees the fear mixed with anger in them when his hand wraps around your bicep so that he can lift you from the couch by force. The pain reminds you of your father’s grip on you, and you feel tears collecting on your eyes, but you will them back, not wanting to give Wonwoo the satisfaction of seeing them if this is the last thing he sees of you. 

“Walk! Goddammit, why are you so fucking stubborn? I wouldn’t have to be so damn mean to you if you’d cooperate with me. You realize that? Here! No, I said here!” 

A whimper slips from your lips as you stumble in your heels, feeling your ankle roll when Wonwoo pushes you against the wall. You feel the peeling paint against your skin and you smell the mold radiating off the drywall as you squirm in his grasp until finally Wonwoo’s anger gets the best of him. A hand slams into the wall next to your head, mere centimeters from your face, making you stop moving. 

You stare at Wonwoo’s hand, letting your eyes move to his wrist and forearm, where his muscles are tense from the amount of pressure he used. You squeeze your eyes shut, imagining how bad it would have hurt if he had chosen to hit you instead of the wall. 

Wonwoo swallows hard, feeling you go pliant in his grasp. While he was used to his life, it didn’t make moments like this enjoyable. You had been a bitch to him and others around you, but it didn’t make scaring you to this point seem fun. Taking a breath, Wonwoo watches the tears run down your cheeks as he pushes away his compassion and rubs his hand against the dirty wall before grabbing your face and hearing you sob, begging him to stop. 

“Shut up and listen to me.” 

Tilting his head, Wonwoo narrows his eyes, almost eyeing your face like a canvas as he uses the dirt on his fingers as paint while he talks. 

“You’re fucked, Y/N. Daddy isn’t willing to hand over the money like they thought he would, so they want... wanted me to fuck you up.” 

Moving his hand back to the wall, Wonwoo uses your tears on his fingers to collect more of the dirt, moving his hand back to you and wrapping his hand around your throat. You tense, your hand moving to grab his forearm, nails digging into his skin, causing Wonwoo to hiss before he tightens his grasp around your throat only for a moment and loosens it. 

“I’m doing this to make it look like I beat you. I don’t beat women.” Meeting your eyes, Wonwoo watches confusion walk over your face before he clarifies. “Doesn’t mean I won’t kill you. One bullet to the back of your head and you are done, Princess.” 

He was a complicated and confusing man. You could appreciate that he wasn’t going to actually beat you like he was told to, but he was still scaring you. He was still reminding you that he could and would kill you easily. Reaching up, you start to wipe your tears but Wonwoo grabs your wrist and shakes his head before tilting it. 

“Let them run through the dirt... Makes you look more pathetic, plus... there’s something red in the dirt and your tears make it look like you are bleeding.” 

Wonwoo looks through the pictures he sent to Bonhwa. They were too convincing, but he owed that to how terrified you were while he had taken them. Glancing over to where you lay on the couch, Wonwoo sighs, seeing the dirt still covering your face. 

It had been over 16 hours since he had taken you, and you were still in that dress. It was filthy and ripped. Your shoes were now off because your ankle had started to swell after you had rolled it. Now Wonwoo couldn’t help the way his eyes scanned the floor of the dilapidated apartment, seeing rusty nails, glass, and pieces of metal that could all end up in your feet. 

He shouldn’t care. After the pictures had been sent to Bonhwa, he received another call. Your father still wasn’t sending money and it didn’t matter anyway; Bonhwa’s contract wanted a bullet in your skull. Apparently, it wasn’t enough to bankrupt your father. The man wanted to make sure every point of income, including children, was cut off from him. 

Sliding his duffle bag closer to him, Wonwoo digs through his supplies, counting up his rations and looks over what else he had the forethought to pack. He was used to disappearing for months, even years at a time, so this wasn’t a big deal for him. It was having you here and the gnawing bit of compassion biting at the back of his head that was causing him issues. 

Taking out a pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a pair of tennis shoes, Wonwoo sighs and narrows his eyes at you. He didn’t care about you. You were a dead woman walking, so why should it matter that the sight of you in that stupid fucking evening dress was making him feel sick? You had been beautiful in it before the dinner. He could admit that to himself. You were a beautiful woman. The dress had probably been custom made for you and right now it represented where you had pretended to come from. All the filth covering it represented what was really underneath all the glitz and glamor. 

Moving to drop the clothes next to you, Wonwoo watches you slowly wake up. You didn’t have much energy. You weren’t eating or drinking enough, so your body was choosing exhaustion instead. Pointing at the clothes, Wonwoo lifts his brows and waits for you to give them some recognition, but instead you sit up and wrap your arms around you, chill bumps spreading over your skin. 

“There’s no running water here... but at least you can change into something cleaner. We can get that shit off of your face.” 

Your brows furrow deeply at Wonwoo’s words. You wanted to fight him, but you just nodded and started to put your feet down when he reached out to stop you. 

“I’ll turn my back; you slip on the shoes first and then the clothes. There’s nowhere you can go, understand?” 

You were too tired to run. Looking down at the floor, you see why he had stopped you, the glass crunching under his feet as he moved a few steps away from you. Turning his back, Wonwoo glances over his shoulder to watch you put on his shoes before he looks back towards the wall when you start to unzip your dress under your arm. 

“Why are you doing this? He’s not gonna pay, Wonwoo. I’m tired…” 

It had only been 16 hours and you were already giving up. Wonwoo shouldn’t be annoyed that you were giving up; that should be a good thing in theory, but instead it was frustrating. Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo peeks over his shoulder to see you dropping your dress into the floor, your body covered in matching lace as you reach for his t-shirt. 

“Suck it up. What would you rather happen? I just killed you now.” 

Pulling the shirt over your head, you scoff, finding it amusing how his words don’t really scare you this time. They almost seem like a joke. Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes briefly, you watch him look away quickly, clearing his throat. You know you should be upset that he was looking at you in a vulnerable state, but instead you slip one foot out of the borrowed shoes and start pulling on the sweatpants. 

“Why not? Seems like a waste of everyone's time.” 

Taken aback by your answer, Wonwoo hears you sigh, the couch settling as you sit down behind him. Turning around to face you, he looks at you in his clothes before his eyes move to the dirt he had painted on your face and throat. You watch as Wonwoo takes a bottle of water from his bag along with a towel, pouring some on to it as he kneels in front of you. 

“Think so low of yourself all of a sudden, Princess? What happened to all that confidence you had yesterday?” 

Wonwoo lifts his hand with the towel to wipe at your skin but at first you wince in fear. Meeting his eyes, he gives you a look of reassurance before trying again and this time you lean slightly into his touch. It takes some pressure for Wonwoo to get the dirt off of your skin; his eyes follow his hand even as he pours more water on to new sections of the towel. 

“I’m just a good liar.” 

That Wonwoo could tell wasn’t a lie. He knew you were a liar. He had caught you in plenty of lies in the short time he had known you, so perhaps he wouldn’t call you a good liar, but a liar nonetheless. Wonwoo’s brows knit together in thought as he lifts his free hand up to hold your chin as he rubs as gently as possible at your neck to clean his handprint from it, feeling you swallow under his touch. 

“So you gonna be truthful with me now that you are so ready to die? Or are you ready and willing to die because you hate your life so much?” 

It was none of Wonwoo’s business to answer either of those questions, but you didn’t mind that he had asked them. The only issue was that they brought tears to your eyes. Wonwoo moves your face from side to side, his eyes searching for dirt to clear from your face, before he meets your eyes and sees more tears threatening to spill over the rims. 

“You know I hate my life. You saw it firsthand.” 

Tossing the towel to the side, Wonwoo stands and puts the lid back on the water bottle before dropping it back into his bag. You watch as he leans to swipe your destroyed dress from the floor, balling it up in his hands like trash as he thinks. 

“I did, and from the outside looking in, darlin’, your life looks cushy. But that’s all smoke and mirrors, isn’t it?” Wonwoo doesn’t watch you nod, even as you do. “Won’t lie, your daddy acts like he’s running an escort service, but you’re the only one working.” 

Wonwoo’s words cause your face to heat up. You are angry with him, with his words, and with the truth. You know he’s not wrong and you’ve heard the rumors before. If it isn’t a marriage he is trying to set up for you with a rich son or a business partner, at least he can get a date for you, and you are reminded to make them happy. Happy is such a broad term, but you knew what it meant. You hate your father for it and any of the men who wanted the dates. 

Dropping your dress in the corner of the room, deeming that the new trash pile, Wonwoo moves back over to you to kneel in front of you. He meets your eyes, then reaches out to slide the leg of your new sweatpants up so he can look at your ankle. When you wince, his fingers prodding at the swollen muscle, he nods and sighs. 

“It’s not broken; you’ll live.” 

Wonwoo runs his thumb along his palm as he watches you sleep. This has become his new pastime over the past couple of days. It hadn’t been his plan, but between disappointingly annoying phone calls from Bonhwa and watching time tick away, Wonwoo watched your spirit dwindle with it. 

In reality, he knew he shouldn’t care. In fact, it should be a good thing. You were less combative. You ran your mouth less. You complained about things less, and yet Wonwoo was starting to miss that fiery woman who made his blood boil. This fragile thing laying in a ball on the couch was a shadow of you, and he had done that. Maybe not on his own, but he was the hands, if not the head. 

Leaning his head back against the door, Wonwoo picks up his cellphone, looking at another text message from Bonhwa. Each time his phone rang today, he had let it go to voicemail. He wasn’t some errand boy. Park Bonhwa had already paid him for this job; sure, there was still something left to do, but he couldn’t keep asking him for more shit without adding zeros to the end of what he had given him. Especially the shit he was asking for. 

Park: I’m tired of your bullshit

Park: As if I’m not already dealing with enough from the bitch’s daddy 

Park: Hyong wants more pictures 

2 missed calls from Park 

Park: You son of a bitch 

Park: answer the fucking phone! 

Answering the phone Wonwoo hisses out his words, keeping his voice low so as not to wake you. 

“What the fuck do you want? I sent pictures—” 

“Shut your fucking mouth. Price came down and the motherfucker is still refusing to pay up like Hyong wants him too. Send more.” 

Wonwoo didn’t know who Hyong was; he figured it was the man who had hired Bonhwa, but truthfully, he didn’t care. The less he knew, the better. Biting at his cheek, Wonwoo rolls his eyes and shakes his head. 

“I’m not touching her again. Bad enough, the fucker wants her dead anyway.” 

Slamming his fist down on his desk, Bonhwa grits his teeth and scoffs into his phone. 

“Worthless. I thought you were a professional. The best? Did I waste my fuckin’ money?” Giving Wonwoo only a moment to start to speak, Bonhwa cuts him off before he gets out the first syllable. “Do I need to send some boys to find you and the girl? Have them finish the job?”

The idea of that made Wonwoo sick to his stomach. He knew enough about Park Bonhwa and his men to know he’d rather kill you himself than let them near you. They wouldn’t just kill you. They would assault you, torture you, film it like Bonhwa wanted, and then kill you. 

“Fuck off. I'll take care of it.” 

Hanging up the phone, Wonwoo tosses the phone into his bag with a louder groan than he meant to cause you to stir from your sleep. Furrowing your brows, you glance towards the man with a bit of concern in your eyes. The past day, he had changed his attitude towards you in some ways. He wasn’t nice, per se, but he wasn’t unnecessarily cruel either.

Meeting your eyes, Wonwoo sighs, lifting his hand to brush it through his hair. He needed a shower and so did you. It would do some good to move locations. It wasn’t his plan. He knew he could tie you to one of the exposed pipes and go do what he needed to do, but for some reason he found himself not wanting to do that. 

“Wanna go for some fresh air, princess?” 

Sitting up slowly, you consider Wonwoo’s question before nodding. You had heard some of his conversations with his boss, this Park man, and none of them had you convinced that this was going your way. 

Wonwoo gets to his feet, leaning to pick up his duffle bag as you slide from the couch. His eyes follow you carefully, watching how you weakly move towards him. That pang of pity hits him and Wonwoo tries to force it back down, only for it to rise up in his throat like bile. Shaking his head, Wonwoo wraps his arm around your waist, letting you lean against him as you try to keep some weight off your swollen ankle as the two of you walk back down the stairs. 

“Can I ask a question?” 

Your voice surprises Wonwoo as he opens the back door of the car for you. Meeting your gaze, he tilts his head and nods once, waiting for you to continue. 

“Are you going to kill me?” 

Your question makes the bile bubble in Wonwoo’s throat once again. Looking away, Wonwoo has to clear his throat, forcing the sick feeling down before he once again meets your eyes. There is fear in your eyes, but also a deep sadness that Wonwoo has started to notice as your confident facade starts to crack. Wonwoo knew he could lie to you but what good would that do to anyone? 

“I’m supposed to. That’s the job.” 

Tears sit on the rims of your eyes as you nod while sitting down on the backseat of the car. You try to think of the right words or a reason to beg for your life, but you can’t think of a single reason. Wonwoo furrows his brows as he watches you nod and pull your legs into the car. His eyes trace the tears as they run down your cheeks before he closes the door and curses under his breath. No other mark had made him feel like this. Why did you feel different? 

Looking around the house, you wrap your arms around you, waiting for the punchline of Wonwoo’s joke. He had taken you from the most disgusting, dilapidated apartment building you had ever seen to a modest sized house just outside of the city. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was clean and had modern comforts. 

Wonwoo locks the door, shielding the keypad with his large upper body, as you hear the sound of a code being keyed into the security system. Turning back to face you as you stand in the foyer, clearly confused, he sighs, dropping his duffle bag with a dull thud before crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. 

“Let me make something clear to you, Y/N. This doesn’t change anything. I’m just tired of sleeping on the fuckin’ ground.” 

You couldn’t tell if he was lying. That was something you hadn’t mastered yet. Wonwoo was so closed off and you were too tired to pry. Swallowing hard, you look down as he keeps staring at you, his eyes almost studying you as they move along your frame, continuing his explanation. 

“You try to open a door to the outside; I’ll know and you’ll regret it. Don’t fuck with me, understand?” 

Nodding, you pick at a loose string on the sweatpants you were currently borrowing. They were ill fitting, but still warmer and better than the dress that you had been wearing. You wanted to tell Wonwoo you were grateful for the clothes and for him moving you here, but you find yourself almost afraid to tell him anything. You were afraid that if you showed any sign of comfort, he might take it away because Park told him too. 

“Good girl. Come on.” 

Grabbing your wrist, Wonwoo guides you down the hall, turning on a light that makes you squint. You had grown accustomed to the low light of the camping lamps in the apartment. The lights in the house were almost too much at first. Glancing up, you blink a few times before you realize Wonwoo has led you to a bathroom. You feel tears once again coat your eyes, but you will them back as you watch him turn on the shower and mutter to himself before sighing and looking you over. 

“Here’s the deal, alright?” Swallowing hard, Wonwoo looks like he’s in pain at the words he is trying to force out of his mouth as he leans against the bathroom counter before he meets your eyes once again. “I don’t want to hurt you. What I told you is true, but they want more pictures.” 

A small sob escapes from your lips and Wonwoo feels his stomach tighten, the bile once again churning. Perhaps once he had enjoyed putting a little fear into you, but now it was chipping away at something inside of him. 

Taking a step back from Wonwoo, you feel the wall behind you as you close your eyes, tears slipping down your cheeks. You had no idea what sort of pictures they could want now. The last ones had broken you and Wonwoo hadn’t done more than scare you. He had taken them in a way to mimic pain, but still, they had caused you enough pain. 

“I don’t want to, Wonwoo.” 

Running his hand over his mouth, Wonwoo nods. He wants to tell you that he doesn’t want to either, but he also doesn’t want the alternative if he doesn’t deliver them. 

“If I don’t send them to him, Park will have his goons track you and I down. They are worse than me. Their pictures won’t be fake…” 

“Yours aren’t fake! I’m—” Lifting your hands, you rub at your cheeks, smearing dirt from your hands onto your face in the process of wiping your tears. “I’m so scared. Just kill me. Please? I don’t wanna do this anymore.” 

Taking the step across the bathroom towards you, Wonwoo listens to your breath get caught in your throat. He watches your body tense up as you prepare yourself for him to scare you; instead, he takes your wrist loosely in his hand. With his other hand, he carefully rubs at your cheek, trying to clean a smear of dirt from your skin. 

“Why the fuck are you just giving up now? Because your daddy is an asshole? You already knew that.” 

Leaning your head back against the wall, you meet Wonwoo’s eyes briefly before his eyes move along your face. You were still scared, but there was something about him and about his words that made your shoulders rise. You felt less small if, even for just a moment, you wanted to explain yourself, but maybe that was why he had chosen those words. 

“Why not? I told you the moment we stepped into that apartment that he wouldn’t give up any money. He’d rather see me dead.” 

Groaning in annoyance, Wonwoo slides his hand from your face to rest his fist next to your head on the wall. You feel how close he is to you; his body caging you in. It feels oppressive for a moment until he shakes his head and meets your eyes and the look in his eyes makes the way he’s standing and how close he is feel like a shield. 

“I don’t care what he wants and neither should you. I don’t know why you are so fucking sure—” 

“Life insurance, Wonwoo.” 

Your words cut him off; Wonwoo’s brows knit together tightly. The look on his face is almost one of pain, as much as it is confusion, until the words seem to sink into reality. Nodding, Wonwoo scoffs and leans his head back, a laugh slipping from between his lips before he looks back down at you and shakes his head. 

“How much?” 

Wonwoo can see how you have relaxed in front of him. The steam filling the room is comforting and tempting, but he keeps his eyes on you, waiting for your answer. 

“100 billion.” 

That explained everything. You were worth so much more to him dead than you were alive. Park’s associate clearly hadn’t done his homework. Wonwoo feels his blood boiling at the idea of a father putting that much worth on his child, hoping she would die before he would so he would benefit. There had been a lot of shitty things he had done in his life, but in that moment, he decided that killing you wouldn’t be one of them. 

“No.” 

Confused by Wonwoo’s response, you tilt your head and repeat it back to him as a question. To you, it was simple. It was exactly what was happening. You were explaining it perfectly, there was no reason for Wonwoo not to understand. Starting to speak again, you stop when Wonwoo shakes his head. You feel his fingers trail up your forearm as he lets out a sigh before they once again encircle your wrist. 

“He doesn’t get what he wants.” Gesturing his head towards the shower, Wonwoo takes a step back from you, gently pulling you from the wall. “Take a shower; we can talk about the pictures later. Fuck all of them.” 

Opening your mouth, you close it once again when Wonwoo mutters something under his breath before leaving you in the room alone. You were confused and surprised by his reaction. You had expected him to talk you into taking whatever pictures Park wanted. You had been mentally preparing yourself for some humiliating experience, but instead you were now alone in a warm bathroom. 

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you frown at the sight. You can see the dirt smeared on your skin and how disheveled your hair has gotten from a lack of care. Giving one last glance at the door, almost certain Wonwoo will come back in, you let out a slow, calming breath before stripping yourself of your borrowed clothes and making your way to the much welcomed shower. 

Leaning against the wall outside of the bathroom, Wonwoo listens to the sound of the water hitting the shower floor. He can imagine it running along your body, though he tries to push that thought from his mind quickly, afraid of where it might lead. Instead, he reminds himself how good a shower must feel after a couple days of being with him and how he has treated you. Sighing to himself, Wonwoo imagines the water pooling at your feet after it washes away the dirt, hoping it will wash away some of your stress, just like he hopes it will wash away his own. 

Taking his cellphone from his jeans, Wonwoo scowls at a text from Bonhwa before replying and shoving it back into his pocket. He had no respect for the man. Not that he had before learned from you, but now he had no reason to keep any loyalty towards him. 

Park: Chop chop, Jeon. I want my pictures. 

Wonwoo: When I’m ready.

Picking up his duffle bag, Wonwoo climbs the flight of stairs to the second floor, turning on the light for the bedroom. He had many safe houses. They were in various locations around Korea and other countries. None were in his real name and each one was kept stocked by people he could trust. This one was no different. 

Opening the dresser, Wonwoo furrows his brows at the clothing choice. There was plenty for him, but he was limited in his choices for you. It wasn’t his every day that he kept a mark with him and clothed them. Tossing a few things onto the bed, Wonwoo turns his attention to the closet, tilting his head at a few items near the back. Things he had forgotten had been left behind by those he would never name. He found himself pleased with his own hoarding tendencies as he pulled a simple summer dress and sweater from the closet, hoping they would fit you. 

With a towel wrapped around your body, you look through the drawers in the bathroom for things you might be able to use. A face wash and moisturizer catch your eye and you find yourself wondering if they belong to Wonwoo or if he had friends, perhaps a girlfriend you weren’t aware of. Shaking your head, you quickly use the products and relish in the feeling of brushing your teeth before you hear the sound of Wonwoo’s voice on the other side of the door. 

“Y/N? I—are you decent? Well, decent enough for me to come in?” 

You think back to Wonwoo peeking over his shoulder at you changing at the apartment as you glance towards the door. Your cheeks start to heat up as you hold your towel tighter and pull the door open, letting Wonwoo inside if he wants. 

Wonwoo takes a deep breath as his eyes move over your legs and up to your face. You watch as he seems to forget what he is doing for a brief moment before lifting his hands to show you the clothes he has collected for you. Furrowing your brows, you can’t help but smile even slightly at the sight of the dress over Wonwoo’s arm. It’s a simple soft green knee mid-thigh length dress that you know you would have never worn before all of this, but now the dress looks like comfort and kindness. 

“I don’t know if they will fit you, but they are all I could find. I could get you some of my things if you’d prefer—” 

“These are great, Wonwoo, if that’s okay?” 

Reaching out for the dress and sweater, you accidentally brush your hand over Wonwoo’s before pulling your hand back on instinct. You find yourself nervous, perhaps even a bit afraid of what his response might be. Looking down, your brows furrowed, you hear Wonwoo say your name softly, drawing your attention back up to him. 

“It’s okay. Get dressed and we can…” You watch Wonwoo scoff into a laugh at how ridiculous he feels at his own words as he says them. “Talk about your situation.” 

Not really understanding what Wonwoo means, you just nod and take the clothes from him, stepping back so he can shut the bathroom door once again. Your fingers carefully brush over the fabric in your hands and you feel goosebumps spread over your skin at how soft the sweater feels. Had Wonwoo noticed how cold you had been at the apartment? Was this a kind gesture to keep you warmer here? Should you not think about it like that? 

Glancing up at the ceiling as you hear water running, you tilt your head, realizing that Wonwoo was probably using another bathroom to take his own shower. He was trusting you not to run. Granted, he had given you a warning not to run. He had set an alarm and told you what would happen, but there was still a level of trust in taking a shower knowing you were done. 

With the sweater over your new dress, you look at the front door. There were three deadbolts, a chain, and a keypad that you had heard Wonwoo type something into earlier. It would take you a few minutes to get them all undone and the alarm would go off, but then you could run. You were exhausted, you were hungry, and now you were confused. 

Running your fingers over the soft sleeves of your sweater, you look behind you up the stairs, where you can still hear running water. Was this a test? Your mind goes back to what Wonwoo said before he left you alone but more so about what he said before your shower. 

“He doesn’t get what he wants.” 

Moving away from the door, you look around the living room. Your eyes fall to the soft couch, a sigh slipping from your lips as you sit down on it, feeling the cloth against the back of your legs. It was so much nicer than the dirty leather of the one in the apartment. You weren’t sure how this house worked if Wonwoo lived here often, but it was clean and almost felt like home. 

Running his fingers through his wet hair, Wonwoo looks around the bedroom, listening for any signs of you. He hadn’t gotten any alerts that the doors had been opened, but if you had, he wouldn’t have really blamed you. Sure, he had warned you not to do it, but that had been before everything he had learned about your father and now if you walked out that door, he might just let you go. The only thing stopping him was the fear that Bonhwa’s men would find you before he did. 

Jogging down the steps, Wonwoo tugs his shirt down his torso, only to meet your eyes as he rounds the doorway into the living room. You were lying on the couch and it reminded him so much of the apartment. The main difference here is that you looked comfortable and somehow even more beautiful. You almost took his breath away in the new dress, the sweater’s sleeves held at your palms by your fingers. 

“Hey…” 

Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes, you sit up quickly. That fear that he might be upset at your comfort suddenly hits you until he sighs. Gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder, Wonwoo closes his eyes in thought before finally speaking. 

“I’ll make something warm to eat. I can’t promise it’ll be good or not expired. But it’ll be food. Then we can talk.” 

Smiling to yourself, you lift your hand to your lips to hide your smile as you watch Wonwoo move across the hall into the kitchen. There had been a shift in him over the past couple of days but more so today. This Wonwoo was still intense; he frightened you at times, but he was also warm and comforting in a strange way. 

Turning to lay on your stomach, you rest your chin on your arm, watching Wonwoo open cabinets. From where you are, you can hear him muttering something to himself and see him occasionally reach up to scratch at his brow before he finally seems to figure out what to do next. 

After a few minutes of struggling, he finally manages to find a pot for water and some ramen. Looking over his shoulder back into the living room, Wonwoo has to hide his smirk, finding you watching him from the couch. The way you are lying is cute—your ankles crossed, knees bent so your feet can be up in the air. It reminds him of girls in dramas watching television or writing in their diaries, not that he’s watched a drama or movie in years. 

With ramen on the table in front of you, still in the pot, Wonwoo offers you a set of chopsticks as he sits near you on the floor. Shifting to sit next to him, you lean over the table to look down at the food with appreciation before giving the same look to Wonwoo. 

“Thank you… I–I honestly didn’t expect you to give me anything.” 

Taking a deep breath, Wonwoo nods, gesturing for you to take the first bite. He watches you savor some of the noodles as his brows furrow, feeling his phone vibrate in his sweatpants pocket. He knew he should check it, but that would require caring what Park Bonhwa had to say, and right now he didn’t. Right now, the only thing that he cared about was getting something in your stomach and having a conversation that didn’t end with you being terrified of him. 

“That’s fair. I haven’t—look, this isn’t the most ideal situation we are in.” 

Scoffing, you stop yourself immediately, lowering your head apologetically at your gut reaction. You couldn’t help but find the irony in Wonwoo’s words. You knew it wasn’t an ideal situation but if it wasn’t ideal for him, he should try being you. You were the one who was going to be dead soon. 

“You’re allowed to react, princess.” 

That name. At first, it had made you angry, but you figured that was probably Wonwoo's desired reaction to it. Now the name makes your cheeks burn with something else. It made you feel shy and while it still made you feel smaller than Wonwoo, you didn’t hate that feeling. His larger than life stature over you, standing between you and Park somehow seemed like a good thing right now. 

“Just don’t wanna piss you off. I’m good at that, if you remember...” 

Smirking, Wonwoo tilts his head before leaning to eat some of the noodles and licking the broth from his lips. He did remember, but the you that had seemed dead set on frustrating him to no end a few days ago now seemed like she was miles away. You were someone different and he wanted to find the woman who was in the middle. 

“Trust me, I do.” 

Watching you, Wonwoo can’t help the way he has to take a breath as you blow at the ramen with a small smile on your face at his words. If this were any other situation, one might mistake it for a date, but he knew the reason you were here just as much as you did. 

“Do you even want to go home?” 

The question makes you stop what you are doing mid bite. Furrowing your brows, you glance over at Wonwoo, finding his eyes on you. Your stomach tightens at how intense his gaze is, the weight behind it and his question. It was a loaded question with many different possible answers, but only one that you could think of. 

“No.” 

Looking down at his hands, Wonwoo nods, letting that reality sink in. He had a few options laid out in front of him of how this week could end. He could follow through with what he had been paid to do. He could kill you, put your body on your father’s doorstep, and call it a job well done. He could let you go, never thinking of you again, but Wonwoo finds himself struggling to picture himself doing that and you surviving. Then there was the third option... 

“I have a friend—mmm, no, let’s call him an acquaintance; we aren’t friends. This acquaintance has been in touch about you.” 

The words all make sense but yet you shake your head, not understanding what any of them mean. You didn’t know Wonwoo’s acquaintances or his friends and you weren’t sure what they would want with you, unless... 

“He wants to kill me?” 

Meeting your eyes almost in shock by your assumption, Wonwoo shakes his head and sighs. The sigh is loud and exasperated because clearly he’s not going quickly enough and explaining well enough. 

“No, Jesus, Y/N… No, he’s—he’s a detective. I could either hand you over to him or—or I could have him help me let you disappear.” 

Looking around the room, you repeat some of what Wonwoo had said back to yourself as if trying to understand it before meeting his eyes. He had changed his mind. He wasn’t going to kill you. You hadn’t been wrong in the shift you had seen in him; you just didn’t understand why. 

“Why? I mean… not that I’m not grateful and that I don’t want it—”

“Which one?” 

Cutting you off with his question, Wonwoo slides his arm along the couch cushion behind your back as you look at him, lost for words. He expected a quick decision and you weren’t sure you were capable. Shaking your head, you lay down your chopsticks and lean back against the couch, a bit surprised to feel Wonwoo’s hand against your arm. Looking down at his fingers, you furrow your brows, watching them flex once before he braves the water and rests them against your bicep. 

“I need to know because there isn’t a lot of time for this to work. I’m not trying to scare you by saying that, but honestly, you should still be scared. I’m not saying anything about me; I’m not going to hurt you… but Bonhwa…” 

Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes once again, you have a new, intrigued look on your face at learning a name. You hadn’t heard the name Bonhwa before; was that Park’s first name? 

“He would? Park Bonhwa?” 

Realizing what he had said, Wonwoo looks down with a sigh. Nodding, he lifts his free hand to rub at his brows before looking up at you once again. 

“Yes, he’s a piece of shit, Y/N. Some bigger piece of shit hired him to do this. Somebody who doesn’t like your father.” 

Now you are starting to learn things and understand them. You didn’t know anyone named Park Bonhwa, but your father had plenty of enemies and plenty of people pretending to be friends who would want his downfall. 

“So if I disappear, how does that work?” 

Pursing his lips, Wonwoo shifts closer to you and makes an unsure sound. 

“I’ll have to work it out with Cheo—with my acquaintance. If it’s what you want, I’ll figure it out.” 

Looking over Wonwoo’s face, you find yourself nodding, convinced by his words but still something hangs in the air. There was something that made you pause and look at him with uncertainty. 

“Why are you doing this for me? You hate me.” 

Looking at his hand as he picks at the sweater resting over your arm, Wonwoo sighs at your question. It was a fair one. He hadn’t given you any other reason to think otherwise. He had pretty much told you more than once that he didn’t like you, that he hated you, but you had returned the favor. Looking at you now, Wonwoo was almost too shy to look back up at your eyes.

"Uh—yeah, well, shit changes, doesn’t it? When you aren’t trying to actively hate someone for the job and they aren’t being a bitch for fun?”

Letting out a scoff, you meet Wonwoo’s eyes, almost defiantly realizing how close he is. You can see his brows knit together as his eyes waver from your eyes to your lips and back. Neither of you are idiots or immune to the tension blanketing the two of you as your eyes follow a similar path on his face. 

“It wasn’t for fun... all the time. Most of the time it was—” 

“A shield?”

Nodding, you find your brows pulling together this time at Wonwoo’s words, as he seems to know you better than to anticipate. He had been paying attention to you and listening to what you had been saying over the past few days. Inhaling softly, you feel Wonwoo’s fingers press against your arm as he mutters a curse under his breath, leaning his head in closer to yours. You can almost see the internal battle written on Wonwoo’s face as he struggles with the desire to act on his wants and instincts compared to what he knows he should do. 

“Are you still afraid of me?” 

Shaking your head, you pause to lick your lips and Wonwoo smiles, knowing you aren’t telling him the full truth. Maybe you weren’t as afraid of him as you once were, but there is still fear left. Giving into desire, Wonwoo leans in the last few inches, letting his lips barely brush against yours as he speaks, letting you decide to meet his kiss or pull away. 

“Promised I wouldn’t hurt you. I won’t let anyone else either.”

A small whine escapes from your lips at Wonwoo’s confession and the feeling of his breath on your lips. You have a split second to consider your options before you give in to your desires and meet his kiss gently. You have little to no reason to trust Wonwoo and yet now everything in your being is telling you that you can, as his lips mesh with yours. 

Flexing your fingers, you dig them into the mattress under you, enjoying the feeling of it under you. There was something freeing about this fucked up situation you found yourself in. There were still some who expected something out of you, but you had the most unexpected shield. 

Opening your eyes, you look at Wonwoo’s face as he sleeps beside you. After the simple kiss, he insisted you finish eating and ushered you upstairs to bed. You could remember the same man who had forced you up steps a few days earlier, but he seemed a million miles away now. 

The man sleeping beside you now, his brows knit together as he dreamed, wasn’t that person. Perhaps he was on the surface, but underneath that mask, you were learning he was a warm, complicated person. He wasn’t the asshole you had called him so many times and you weren’t the bitch you pretended to be. There was an art to lying as much as you two had to one another. 

Shifting slightly, you take a breath, only to hold it when Wonwoo’s eyes flutter open. He was apparently a light sleeper. You had wondered if he was; he always seemed to be awake at the apartment so seeing him asleep was a rare, fleeting treat. Looking over your face, Wonwoo’s lips pull up slightly in a smile before he turns to lay on his back with a sigh. 

“Didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

Shaking his head, Wonwoo rubs his eyes with his middle finger and thumb as he yawns. You smile watching him enjoy how domestic the moment feels, wishing it would never end. You find yourself letting your eyes move over Wonwoo a bit more brazenly while he’s distracted. How attractive he was had never escaped you; it had just been overshadowed by how much he had frightened you, but now, as he rubbed at his tired eyes, you found him even more handsome. 

“I don’t really sleep.” 

Pursing your lips, you pull your legs up towards your stomach under the blanket, your thumbnail resting against your lips as you try to hide your smile. Wonwoo lifts his brows at your reaction to him, his eyes doing something similar to yours, but he takes a bit more time before taking a breath and licking his lips. 

“What? You don’t believe me?” 

Resting your head on your bicep, you shake it slightly, move your hand from your lips. 

“It’s not that. You just confuse me. I’m not sure you are human.” 

Smiling, Wonwoo lifts his brow and lets his eyes once again move over your pretty face. If he let himself, he could imagine this being a very normal situation. Just two people lying in bed, getting closer to one another. It was almost terrifying to him that he wanted that, but looking at you as you nuzzled your cheek to the soft sweater you were now lovingly wearing, Wonwoo yearned for it. 

“I am… I just tend to run off caffeine and power naps.” 

Your laugh is welcomed music to Wonwoo’s ears. He had heard it before, when you were living your life before all of this. It hadn’t sounded like this, though. It was almost robotic then and annoying. It had gotten on his nerves; everything about you before had, and it had made hurting you easier. He couldn’t imagine hurting the girl in front of him now. Now he was fighting the urge to run his fingers over your face and over your hair. He was trying to convince himself not to kiss you again. 

“That can’t be healthy. Someone needs to take care of you, Kim Wonwoo.” 

Hearing the fake name that he had given you and your father, Wonwoo’s smile fades. You watch Wonwoo’s eyes move away from yours, his mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to think of what to say. You are about to ask him what’s wrong when the sound of his phone ringing draws his attention away from you and towards the nightstand. 

Narrowing his eyes at the name on the screen, Wonwoo sits up, swiping it almost angrily from the top of the nightstand before answering the phone. Your eyes follow him as he slides from the bed and runs his fingers through his hair, his voice suddenly deeper and rougher. 

“What the fuck do you want now?” 

Scowling at Wonwoo’s attitude, Park Bonhwa slams the door to his Cadillac, giving a lingering look to his driver. They all knew he was in a bad mood, he had been since he had taken on this contract and it was giving them all a headache. Jeon Wonwoo was a serious pain in the ass.

“You know what I fucking wanted, motherfucker! Now I just want her corpse. I’ll send someone else to get it if you are too much of a pussy to—” 

“You won’t do anything!” 

Being cut off by Wonwoo, Bonhwa smacks his hand against the metal door in front of him. The professional that had come so highly recommended was starting to look more like a petulant child than a hitman. 

“Who the hell do you think you are to tell me what I can and can’t do, Jeon?” 

Swallowing hard, Wonwoo glances back at you, realizing you could hear more of his conversation than he would like. He could see the tears on your cheeks and he needed to fix this. Pulling open the bedroom door, Wonwoo slams it behind him, leaving you alone and unable to hear anything more than his muffled angry voice and the occasional word, but it was enough. You understood what “Park” wanted. Wonwoo had offered to help you disappear, but maybe that was too difficult. 

Hissing out his words like venom, Wonwoo glares at the window in front of him as if Bonhwa is in front of him. At this point, he wished the man was. He would let him take your place and make this all a lot simpler. 

“I’ll take care of it! Wire the goddamn money, you piece of shit. If your timeline can speed up, my price can go up.” 

Wonwoo can hear Bonhwa’s argument starting but he is quick to cut him off before he starts by ending the call. There was a lot to explain to you and a lot to apologize for. Granted, he didn’t really owe you or anyone an apology for living his life and making a living in the best way he knew how. It wasn’t his fault he had fallen—no, he wasn’t going to admit that even to himself. 

Scrolling through his contacts, Wonwoo hits another name, placing the phone back against his ear and letting it ring. His head was starting to hurt. He hadn’t slept enough; like he had told you, he rarely did, but now it was starting to weigh on him. 

“What? Turning yourself in?” 

Wonwoo scoffs at Choi Seungcheol’s words as he slides down the wall outside of the bedroom. There had only been one man who had even come close to catching him and it had been Detective Choi Seungcheol. The only reason he hadn’t was because of a deal struck between a desperate man and an even more desperate, not always by the book, detective. It had worked in Wonwoo’s favor then and he hoped it would now. 

“Never. Need to ask for that favor.” 

Rolling his eyes, Seungcheol glances around his office before leaning to close the door with a deafening click. He owed Wonwoo more than one favor, but luckily for him so far none of them had bit him in the ass. He hoped this one wouldn’t either. 

“And you need to get that girl home, Wonwoo. How long are you gonna keep her away from her family?” 

"Forever, hopefully, with your help.” 

That hadn’t been the answer that Seungcheol had been expecting. He hadn’t heard about your kidnapping through your father until another reliable source brought it to his attention. It was only when he and another officer approached your father did he even admit to you being taken. Seungcheol knew there was something strange about this case. It didn’t matter if fathers were told not to tell the police about their children being kidnapped, they would. That was just a father’s instinct to protect a child. Your father was different. He seemed like he had already accepted your death. 

“I—and why the fuck would I—”

“Because I’m going to help you get a promotion, Cheol.” 

Wonwoo knew that would get Seungcheol’s attention and it did. Now the detective was listening, his lips pursed as he looked at his computer in front of him, deep in thought, before finally letting out a breath. 

“How so?”

Of course, he would want to know what he would get out of it first. That detail didn’t make Wonwoo feel the best about this, but he would go about it however he needed to in order to help you now. Glancing towards the closed door, hoping that you weren’t upset with him for walking out, Wonwoo chewed at his cheek and knocked his head back against the wall. 

“Her dad, I think I can get—no, I know I can get enough to blow a whistle on his company. It’d be one hell of a bust for you, Detective Choi.”

Leaning forward to rest his elbow on his desk, Seungcheol scoffed at Wonwoo’s attempt at flattery. It was working. He knew that Y/L/N Financial Incorporation was shady, but he couldn’t touch it. There were too many lawyers and hoops to jump through in the corporate world that gave Seungcheol ulcers, but if it were laid in his lap… Well, that was a different story. Bringing down a corrupt trading company that many had lost their money to could do just what Wonwoo had said. He could have almost any position in the department that he wanted, or he could run for office. 

“And what do you need from me?” 

A breath of relief washes over Wonwoo at Seungcheol’s question. He knew the man had other connections and between the two of them and pulling a few other strings, they could solve this. 

“She doesn’t want to go home, Cheol, and they all want her dead. So, we give them what they want. She gets a fresh start and a new name.” 

This wasn’t something easily done, but Seungcheol knew that Wonwoo knew that. He knew what he was asking of him and now Seungcheol wasn’t sure if the prize was worth the work. Making a sound of concern, Seungcheol sits back in his chair, glancing towards his door, when Wonwoo speaks up once again. 

“Have you met her father?” 

Furrowing his brows, Seungcheol remembers talking to the man in his office. The older man had refused to come to the station, and even meeting in his own plush personal office seemed like an inconvenience. Talking about your kidnapping and possible impending death seemed like an inconvenience for him. Seungcheol remembered leaving frustrated and confused. He wasn’t a father yet but he hoped that he would be a better one than yours. 

“Mm, a real son of a bitch.” 

“He’s got a hell of a life insurance policy for Y/N. He doesn’t want her back, Cheol. Imagine how that might make her feel. She knew the moment I took her that she wasn’t going to make it, and I wasn’t even the one who told her.” 

Guilt hits Seungcheol in the stomach. He wants to argue with Wonwoo, turn on the cop and get angry with him for taking you, but from the sound of your situation, maybe it was a good thing he had taken you out of it. He wasn’t an idiot; he had already been told the stories of the business parties and the deals your father tried to make involving you. Seungcheol shakes his head and scoffs, making a face as if he’d eaten something sour.

“Fine, I’ll help you—I’ll help Y/N. Get your information together to make it worth my time. You know what you’re askin’ for, Wonwoo. Your information isn’t good enough and I lose my job? I’ll kill you.” 

Wonwoo grins at Seungcheol’s threat, though he knows it's a good one. He knew that Choi Seungcheol would be one of the only people who would probably be able to hunt him down and would kill him given the chance, but it wouldn’t happen. 

“The information will be better than good.” 

Picking at your nails, you lean your head back against the headboard, listening to Wonwoo’s muffled voice just outside of the bedroom. The first conversation had been heated and full of hatred, but this second one seemed to be going his way. 

Your tears had dried on your cheeks, but the churning feeling hadn’t quite settled in your stomach by the time Wonwoo opens the door. He could almost feel how your attitude had shifted from before as he leaned against the doorframe. That smile that he had been enjoying was nowhere to be found, and he knew that laugh was going to be hard won. 

“Y/N…” 

You weren’t necessarily afraid of Wonwoo anymore. You weren’t even afraid or surprised by the situation; at this point, you were coming to terms with reality. Meeting his eyes, you feel the tears once again well up in your eyes as he frowns and shakes his head. 

“It’s fine, Wonwoo.” 

Moving on to the bed, Wonwoo reaches for your hand, trying to come up with the right words to explain things when you continue. 

“I know you didn’t want me to overhear it, but it really is okay. I know my father doesn’t give a shit about me. He didn’t care about my mother, so why would I be different?” Using your free hand to rub at your nose, you glance down at your hand in Wonwoo’s. “If I could just ask a favor or two?” 

Your words were breaking Wonwoo’s heart, but as you spoke, they felt necessary. Each word builds on one another, like an explanation of you, until you finally ask something of him. Humming softly to let you continue, Wonwoo swallows hard, reaching out with his free hand to push at your tears on your cheek with his thumb. 

“I don’t want to be in pain and could you make my death mean something? Make it a lesson for him? He’s going to get even richer from it, but that doesn’t mean—-”

Having heard enough, the implication of you asking him to make your death not painful, Wonwoo slides his hand along your cheek to cup your face. 

“Stop, Y/N… just—shh, please, princess?” 

Closing your eyes when Wonwoo stops you mid sentence, you lean into his touch, feeling his forehead rest against yours. You meant every word. You hated the idea of being overwhelmed with pain or fear at the moment of your death, just as much as you hated your father using your death for his own gain. You felt like those were valid wishes from a dead woman, but maybe they were too hard for the one who had to fulfill them. 

“I can’t listen to you talk like that. Fuck—” 

Wonwoo was a cold man on most days. He didn’t have many emotions and none that would be shared with most people, but today he felt tears collecting on the rims of his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried or the last time his chest felt so heavy as he had someone in his hands. The feeling of your skin against his palm was better than anything he could imagine, and he knew he would do anything for you and do anything to keep you close to him in that moment. 

“I’m not going to kill you. I told you that. They don’t get to win. Baby… I—I mean, fuck, I told you that already.” 

Hearing “baby” slip off Wonwoo’s lips makes fresh tears slip down your cheeks. It was almost cruel the cards that the world was dealing you. In your mind, there was no way you’d be able to keep this man in front of you, so why were you once again being tortured by wanting him and his love? You were starting to understand him, or so you thought, and he wasn’t the type to keep people around or love them. 

Shaking your head, you try to lean back, wanting to make this separation easier on you and Wonwoo, but your fingers hold you to him. A sound of pain escapes Wonwoo’s lips as he slides along your arm and he shakes his head in return. 

“I’ll make you disappear; remember, I said I knew someone, and I’ll—” The words seem difficult and unplanned as Wonwoo leans back, his fingers once again trying to get rid of your tears as you meet his eyes. He looks desperate, almost like a different person—a man not willing to lose what’s in front of him. “I’ll disappear with you.” 

Wrapping your hands around Wonwoo’s wrists, you give him a confused look. There were so many questions on your mind because so many things about what he just said didn’t make sense to you. You didn’t understand how his friend could just make you disappear and go with you. 

“Why?” Now the same confusion was written on Wonwoo’s face as you asked the one word question, prompting you to speak again. “Why would you disappear with me, Wonwoo?” 

Swallowing hard, Wonwoo strokes his thumb along your cheek. That was a valid question. You had every right to ask that, and he should answer it. Furrowing his brows, Wonwoo licks his lips and glances down at yours before cursing under his breath. He knew the answer, it was just the most difficult thing he had ever admitted to another person in his life.

“I—shit, Y/N… it’s cause…” 

You watch Wonwoo struggle with his words, feeling his fingers move over your skin as his brows furrow, almost in pain at how hard he’s trying to manifest his sentence. What was so hard to say to you? Sighing, you start to pull away again when Wonwoo’s lips meet yours and you only whimper into the kiss. 

Wonwoo hopes the kiss will be enough to explain what he’s trying to say, but even as he deepens it and his tongue swipes along the seam of your lips, he knows it’s not. He can feel your hand grabbing at his bicep and the words bubble up in his throat, escaping on to your lips like a breath. 

“I love you.” 

Your eyes close tighter at Wonwoo’s words, the confession hitting you in the chest like a brick. You scratch at his arm under your fingers and let out a soft sob into the kiss, feeling him nod, almost understanding you without words. The tension in the room is thick and warm. It felt like a blanket in the middle of the summer, making you both feel like you were overheating. 

Laying you back on the bed, Wonwoo hovers over you, looking over your face, when he finally pulls back from the kiss. Your tears still flow freely from the corners of your eyes, causing him to swipe at them and shake his head, wishing he could will them away with a single word. 

“I do; I’m sorry—” 

Wrapping your hand into the front of Wonwoo’s t-shirt, pull him down hard to meet your lips, speaking against them as he starts to apologize for loving you. You silence him with your kiss, letting him settle between your thighs as you pull your knee up towards his hip. Wonwoo groans softly into your mouth, his brows finally relaxing, feeling you invite him closer to you. 

With your free hand, you run your fingers through Wonwoo's hair, arching your back as his fingers gather your dress at your hip. After nipping at your lips, he tilts back to look down at you, searching your eyes before staring at his hand as he exposes more of your skin. The air crackles with electric anticipation as desire intensifies between you and Wonwoo. Every touch and every glance fuels the growing fire within, leaving you both yearning for more, unable to resist the magnetic pull between your bodies. On an exhale, you let out a soft whine, walking your fingers along Wonwoo's jaw, your words coming out breathy and soft.

“Don’t apologize for saying that to me, Wonwoo.” 

Closing his eyes, Wonwoo turns his attention back towards you, leaning to press his lips against your wrist. He knew he had a lot to explain to you. There was a lot you didn’t understand, a lot of half truths he had told you. He didn’t wait anymore, not when he rested between your warm thighs and felt your fingers tighten on his shirt, keeping him close to you like you never wanted to lose him. He was afraid once you knew the full truth about him, you wouldn’t want him this close to you again. 

“Want you so fucking bad, princess.” 

Wonwoo’s words are quiet, his lips moving to press against your jaw as he lays his body against yours. You whine, finally letting go of his shirt in place of wrapping your arm around his waist so you can pull his shirt up his back. All that tension in the room feels like a fire burning around you when you hear him say those words out loud. 

Nodding, you lift your hips towards Wonwoo, feeling him smile against your skin before he furrows his brows and whines into a groan. Fingers slide under your dress, along your inner thigh, until finally Wonwoo finds what he was searching for. He can feel your warmth through your damp lace and it’s driving him crazy. 

Glancing up at you, Wonwoo watches your lips fall open as he uses his middle finger to press the lace between your folds. It doesn’t take more than a second for him to put pressure on your already throbbing clit, and you are wanting and needing more. 

“Please… please, more…” 

Wonwoo feels his cock twitch in at your breathy moans. Each new word on your lips—better than anything he had ever experienced. There was no other high that he could think of that could compare to the way his brain soared at such simple words slipping from between your pretty lips. He could feel himself becoming addicted to you with each breathy moan that he earned. 

He wanted to give you everything you wanted and more; it would be easy. He could move his fingers ever so slightly and have his fingers inside of you, but looking at your face, Wonwoo paused. Swallowing hard, Wonwoo puts his head down, kissing your collarbone in the process as you feel his fingers slide to your thigh. 

“Wha—Wonwoo?”

Reaching for his hand, trying to get him to go back to what he had been doing, you feel Wonwoo’s hand wrap around your wrist. Instead of letting you guide his hand, he lifts yours to his mouth, kissing your fingers as he meets yours eyes, giving you an apologetic look. 

“I do want you, baby... but I need to explain some things to you first. I need you to understand who you are letting touch you, so that if you don’t want—” 

Sliding up in the bed under Wonwoo, you cup his face, pressing your lips to his to silence him before he starts rambling. You weren’t stupid; you knew there were lies and obviously plenty weighing on his mind, but that didn’t stop you from wanting him. Meeting his eyes, you wait for him to speak, finally seeing some of the tension once again release from his face. 

“Earlier, uh, you called me Kim Wonwoo.” 

Nodding, you trace Wonwoo’s cheek as he settles on the bed in front of you. His hands slide over your legs, letting you adjust so that you are more comfortable. When you drape your leg over his, Wonwoo glances down at your exposed knee, tracing a small scar, trying to distract himself as he speaks. 

“That’s not my name. I mean, sort of. It’s Jeon Wonwoo.” 

Afraid to meet your eyes, Wonwoo draws shapes on your leg as he continues to explain his life to you. This is the only job he’s ever really known. He doesn’t explain how he got into it, but he’s hurt a lot of people and though he doesn’t say it, you understand he’s killed several people. 

“Did they deserve it?” 

The question makes Wonwoo’s throat feel like it’s closing up. That was the most difficult question he had ever been asked. This was why he didn’t have emotions or show them. You were bringing out his emotions and making his heart feel things that he hadn’t felt in decades. Watching Wonwoo lean his head back, you feel sorrow for the man in front of you. You want to fix his life, but then you remember how fucked up your own life is as he laughs sadly and shakes his head before shrugging. 

“I don’t know, babe. No, not all of them. I didn’t ask them about their morals.”

Shushing Wonwoo, you tilt his head back down to look at you as you lean to brush your lips over his again, feeling him melt under your touch and kiss. It should matter more to you about Wonwoo’s past and possibly his future, but you find that you are more concerned about how he feels about you. 

“Did I deserve it?” 

Grabbing your wrists, Wonwoo sits back, staring at you, before letting go of one hand to brush his fingers over your cheek. It was a painful question, but a fair one. You had every right to ask it and he needed to answer it no matter how much it hurt him to do it. 

“I thought you did at first. Made it easier to take you, to scare you.” Taking a breath, Wonwoo traces the shape of your ear with his fingers meeting your eyes. “But now I know you didn’t deserve any of this. I’m sorry, Y/N. If you wanna walk out that door, I’ll let you leave.” 

Wonwoo’s hand starts to drop from your face as he finishes what he needs to say. He looks defeated and certain you are going to not only kick him out of bed, but worse, you might actually want to leave. The moment his fingers drop from your jaw, you shake your head and move forward, hearing a soft, surprised gasp escape from Wonwoo’s lips when you put his back on the bed. Straddling his hips, you nudge your nose against his and tease him by brushing your lips like a whispered word along his, making him lean up to chase you before you speak. 

“I thought you said you’d disappear with me, Jeon Wonwoo?” 

His real name on your lips almost floors Wonwoo. His head resting back on the bed, Wonwoo nods, reaching up to once again cup your face with his hand as he mutters his promises. 

“I will, yes. I promise... as soon as we can.” 

Crashing your lips into his, you hear Wonwoo groan deeply at the feeling. The kiss is different, it’s almost sealing the promise and you both seem to realize that. Fingers once again slide under your dress so that Wonwoo can trace the curve of your ass as you sit down over his half hard cock trapped in his sweatpants. 

You were so warm even with his pants and your thin panties, and it was causing Wonwoo’s mind to malfunction. It had been a long time since he had let himself really enjoy sex and a woman’s body for more than just a carnal need. If this had been anyone else, it would be over in minutes without much more than a word said from either person. Everything about you had Wonwoo’s brain screaming to take his time and teach you he could be better. 

“Fuck… baby.” Groaning into something that sounds more like a whimper, Wonwoo rocks his hips up to meet yours, feeling you roll your hips over him. “Lay down, let me take care of you.” 

Smiling, you sit up, running your fingers over Wonwoo’s chest, feeling him take deep breaths under your touch. In the past, you would have agreed to something like that without question. You would be the first to admit that you were lazy in bed with other people, a bit of a pillow princess, but with Wonwoo, you wanted to be something different. He made you want to show him more, give him more. Show him he is worth more. He was worth the risk. 

Shaking your head, you slide down the length of his body, feeling Wonwoo’s eyes on you as he tells you to let him take over once again. He is silenced when your hot breath fans over the front of his sweatpants and his cock jerks almost violently in reaction. 

Pressing his head back against the bed, Wonwoo just nods, lifting his hips as your fingers press into the top of his sweatpants, working them down his thighs. Your eyes focus on his face, the way he bites at his bottom lip when his cock is exposed to the air and you for the first time. Finally looking down, you tilt your head and swallow hard, loud enough for Wonwoo to hear your reaction when your eyes move over his cock from base to tip. 

“You okay? Princess… I said, let me—” 

“Shhh, you are just so big, Wonwoo. It’s a compliment. Take off your shirt for me.” 

Your words go straight to Wonwoo’s head and make his face burn, the flush evident running from his neck to his cheeks as he lets out a slow breath. Dropping his pants into the floor, you keep your eyes on him, enjoying the view as he does as you ask, tugging his t-shirt over his head and tossing it across the room. 

Laying back reluctantly, he sits back up on his elbows as his cock leaks pre-cum against his abdomen, his eyes moving over you while you shift closer, running your hand along his thigh. 

“Baby—c’mon… Let me see you at least.” 

Smirking slightly, you work the sweater over your head as Wonwoo watches carefully. 

“I think you are being impatient.” 

Quietly laughing, Wonwoo reaches out to run his thumb along your knee, his eyes following your fingers as you work your dress up your body. 

“Maybe… but you are so fucking beautiful and you won’t let me touch you first. I was close before... you were begging me.” 

Humming in agreement with Wonwoo, you hand him your dress, watching him smile as he drops it on the floor with his clothes. His eyes stay focused on you as you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra, feeling it give way. 

“Maybe I want you to beg me instead.” 

Lifting his brow, Wonwoo takes a deep breath as your bra falls from your body. He knew you were perfect. There had been no doubt about that from the moment he first saw you as your bodyguard, but seeing you like this and feeling this way about you was a privilege. 

“I don’t beg for things, princess.” 

Tilting your head, you sit back on your ass between Wonwoo’s legs. With one leg on either side of his, you lift your hips, working your panties down. You hear his breath hitch as you lift one leg and then the other, slipping them off and letting them hang on your fingers before you offer them to him with a question in your eyes. 

“You don’t?” 

Reaching out to take your panties from you, Wonwoo scoffs when you pull them back just as his fingers graze them. He knows he could simply move and take them from you, but he knows what you want and you were making his mouth water. Licking his lips, Wonwoo tightens his jaw and meets your eyes, putting out his hand. 

“But I will for you. Please, baby? Don’t tease me.” 

Teasing Wonwoo was fun and it was powerful, but giving him something that he needed was just as rewarding. Smirking, you put your panties in Wonwoo’s hand, moving back to your knees as you watch him bring them to his nose, taking a deep breath of you. Only once he’s had his fill does he drop them next to the bed with the rest of the clothes and lick his lips, swallowing hard at the sight of you. 

"Sure, I can’t take care of you first?” 

Shaking your head, you listen to Wonwoo groan your name when your fingers wrap around his cock. He is heavy in your hand and you find yourself wanting that weight on your tongue. You want him to moan your name like that as you swallow as much of his cock as you can… so instead of answering him, you act on your desires. 

Falling back on the bed, Wonwoo curses loudly as your warm mouth wraps around him. Letting your mouth meet your hand, you moan around Wonwoo, sucking on his head as you pull back, only to sink back down over him without warning. It had been far too long since Wonwoo had been with someone even close to as determined as you in bed and that was becoming too evident as he struggled to keep himself from cumming too soon. 

“Bab—shit! Y/N… slow—ah, don’t wanna…” 

Pulling back from Wonwoo’s cock with a small popping sound, you feel his hips jerk under your hand as you continue to stroke him. Everything you had wanted from him was becoming a reality. You were dripping onto the bed under you from the sounds coming out of Wonwoo’s mouth and the taste of him on your tongue. 

Clinging to the bedding under him, Wonwoo groans loudly as you press your tongue against his slit. Not wanting to cum into your mouth, he reaches to grab at your hair, whining your name and pushing his ass against the bed, trying to get away from your mouth. 

“Wanna—please? Feels too good. Let me have you.” 

Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes again, you lick your lips, tasking the pre-cum smeared on them, listening to another groan slip from between his lips at the sight. You were going to be the death of him before he got his cock in you at this rate. 

Sitting back, you laugh when Wonwoo wastes no time turning over on the bed so he can get back between your thighs. With no lace between him and your pussy this time, he shakes his head and lets out a slow breath, lowering himself down to press kisses to your thighs before running his tongue through your wet folds. 

Wonwoo groans, his fingers gripping you tighter and pulling you closer to his mouth as he tastes you for the first time. Every worry disappears, along with every thought in his mind, as he focuses on you and nothing else. Wrapping his arm around your leg, Wonwoo adjusts himself on the bed, listening to your soft whimpering moans, driving him to make you feel even better. 

You could already feel yourself tightening around nothing as Wonwoo sucked around your clit, his fingers pushing your folds apart, giving him access to the sensitive bundle of nerves. You wanted and needed more. The desire to be full of him overwhelms your brain just as much as your impending orgasm. 

“Plea—Wonwoo…  your fingers. I need something inside of me.” 

You clearly had no idea how sexy your words were because, as soon as you spoke them, Wonwoo was trying not to thrust his hips into the mattress to find relief. Clawing at Wonwoo’s arm, you whimper his name doing your best to get what you want at your pace. Nodding, he groans, leaning back just enough to watch as he works a finger into you, feeling your tight walls suck him in. You weren’t even close to being able to handle his cock if he had to work for one finger. 

“Baby… relax.” 

Scoffing, you roll your hips down over Wonwoo’s finger as he nips at your folds, sending waves of pleasure through you. How did he expect you to relax with what was going on between your legs? Shooting him a contemptuous look, you watch as Wonwoo grins up at you before looking back at his fingers as he gently adds a second. 

“You’ve given me that look before, princess. Right before you told me you hoped I lost my job as your bodyguard.” 

Thrusting his fingers deep into you, Wonwoo watches you arch your back, a loud moan dripping off your lips like honey. There had been times before all of this, when he had been playing the part of your bodyguard when he had brief moments of weakness, picturing turning you over a surface and fucking some respect into you. If the man he was then could see him now. He imagined that man would not only be shocked at how much he had changed in such a short time, but he would probably be jealous. Who wouldn’t be jealous to see your cum dripping down his palm towards his wrist as he continued to fuck you with his fingers? 

“Yes, baby… Fuck—another one. Just like that. Cum all over my fingers; take another one.” 

A third finger slips into you and you practically scream in pleasure at how full you feel. The first orgasm had made your thighs start to shake, but the second one had come on so quickly after the first that you were crying. Tears drip from your cheeks as you push your hips down over Wonwoo’s fingers until you can’t take it anymore, the overstimulation making you close your legs around his hand. 

Giving you one more deep thrust of his fingers, Wonwoo presses his lips to your shin as he slowly and carefully slides his fingers from your warm, throbbing pussy. You were panting out your moans like a cat in heat and it was better than anything Wonwoo had ever seen or heard in his life. There was nothing staged that could measure up to you—no porn or even work of art that matched you. 

Running his hands along your knees, Wonwoo meets your eyes as he works your legs apart, feeling them shake under his touch. He knew you were still sensitive, but his cock was aching for you. Resting between your legs, Wonwoo furrows his brows, feeling your wet folds against his shaft as he rocks his hips towards you. One more questioning look, asking for permission, and getting a frantic nod from you is all it takes for him to ease himself into you. 

The feeling of Wonwoo inside of you is so much more than his fingers and it takes your breath away. Pressing your face against his neck, you gasp, feeling the stretch when he finally stops moving, his hips flush with yours. Closing his eyes, Wonwoo has to take a steady breath, feeling you clench around him, threatening to make him cum on the spot. 

“Baby, breathe… Is it too much?” 

Shaking your head, you cling to Wonwoo, afraid he will pull out and you’ll be empty again. You whine his name, leaning your head back onto the pillows, meeting his eyes. Searching your eyes for pain, Wonwoo lifts one of his hands to brush his thumb over your cheek as he waits patiently for you to adjust to him, though it takes every ounce of patience he has. 

“Okay, just tell—tell me when I can move.” 

Nodding quickly, you scratch at Wonwoo’s sides, hearing him hiss at the feeling. You were ready for him to move, but words were hard to form. You were finding it hard to think of anything other than him and the feeling of his cock buried so deep inside of you. Lifting your hips, you moan his name and Wonwoo groans, leaning to rest his forehead against yours. Warm breath fans across your lips as he nods and whispers, “Okay,” before moving slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you or himself too quickly. 

Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, more tears roll from your eyes to your temples at how good it feels to have Wonwoo inside of you. The way his cock stretches you so perfectly and how his head brushes over your spot each time pulls out enough to push right back into your warm walls. 

“Please, please, Wonwoo, baby... faster.” 

Your pleas come out as sobbing moans, causing Wonwoo to give you a concerned look, but as soon as he sees the fucked out look on your face, he can’t help but give you what you want. His thrusts become more urgent and harder. With each one, Wonwoo feels you get that much tighter around his cock until finally the coil inside you snaps. He had thought you were wet before but feeling your cum on his cock was an experience that Wonwoo knew he would never forget and it was enough to send him barreling over the edge after you. 

Resting his head against your neck, Wonwoo curses under his breath, feeling his cum seep out of you, mixing with yours. He was usually much more careful than this, but he had gotten lost in the moment. Shaking his head, Wonwoo carefully slides out of you and meets your eyes full of guilt, only to find you still full of bliss. 

“I didn’t even ask, baby. I’m sorry—” 

Sliding your hand along Wonwoo’s jaw to his neck, you shake your head and close your eyes. You knew what had happened and what could come of it, but that wasn’t something that you could concern yourself with today. Right now, you are just happy to be alive and in bed with Wonwoo. It was the first time in possibly your entire life that you were this happy and you wouldn’t let him spoil it with guilt. 

“Don’t... just tell me that you love me again.” 

Unable to stop his lips from pulling up in a smile, Wonwoo shakes his head at your reaction to the situation. Moving to lay beside you, knowing neither of you could stay like this for long without taking a shower, he pulls you into his arms and presses his lips against your neck. You smile, wrapping your arms around his. 

“I love you, Y/N.”  

“I love you too, Wonwoo.” 

This was the longest you had seen Wonwoo sleep. Even as you ran your fingers delicately along the bridge of his nose, he barely flinched. A smile pulls at your lips at the sight and at how warm and safe you feel lying next to him as the sun rises. 

During the time that you had been awake, Wonwoo’s phone had gone off twice. You had a good feeling that the missed calls were from Park Bonhwa, but you couldn’t bear the thought of waking Wonwoo or checking his phone. There was a beautiful silence surrounding you both and not even that man could ruin it, as long as you didn’t let him. 

Tracing the dip of Wonwoo’s cupid’s bow, you watch as his lips twitch into a soft smile and his eyes slowly open. It was selfish of you to touch Wonwoo so much when he was sleeping so soundly, but seeing his eyes on you and feeling the comfort of them made it worth it. 

Pulling you into his arms, Wonwoo grunts softly at the feeling of your cold fingers sliding along his ribs. He could get used to this—waking up and seeing you first thing. He wanted to get used to it, but there were things that had to happen first. 

“Mm, morning, baby. “ 

Lips press against the top of your head and you find yourself nuzzling against Wonwoo’s chest, not wanting to face anything in the real world. You like the way his deep voice sounds when you are so close to his body, the way it seems to vibrate in his chest. Resting your ear against his chest, you smile and bite at your bottom lip, hearing Wonwoo laugh. 

“Don’t wanna get up?” 

Shaking your head, you whine, and Wonwoo runs his long fingers along your back, stopping to draw small circles along your spine before tracing each notch on his way up to your neck. He understood the sentiment and wanted to give you what you wanted. He wanted to give you everything you wanted now. 

“We need to talk about what comes next. Cheol is going to work on what we need for you to disappear, but he needs payment.” 

There was always a catch to everything. That was something that you understood from a very young age. Everything came with a price. Your father never let you think that money grew on trees. Despite knowing you were incredibly wealthy and that you could potentially have anything you wanted, he made you earn his respect before he would give you any allowance or credit cards. Your father’s respect had cost the most out of anything you had ever paid for in your life. You will never forget the day you told your mother that you loved your father more than her and watched her face fall. 

“Mmkay, how much money does he need?” 

Wonwoo shakes his head at the mention of money. Of course your mind would go to money first; that was how your father had probably raised you. It wasn’t your fault that you were the way you were; Wonwoo understood that now. You were broken because you were carefully shattered piece by piece by your father over the course of your life. 

“Not money, baby. Information. Trust me, this will be good for everyone in the end.” Smirking, Wonwoo lifts his hand from your back to scratch at his eyebrow as he scoffs at his own words, correcting them. “Almost everyone.” 

Information was a currency you were familiar with; it just wasn’t something you commonly used. You have seen your father get rich off information plenty of times. Leaning your head back, you glance up at Wonwoo, furrowing your brows as he lifts his hand to brush his fingers over your cheek. 

“About my father?”

The next couple of hours you spend against Wonwoo go through what you know about your father’s company. You tell him more about the business dinners and dates that he has set up for you over the years and though Wonwoo listens carefully, he seethes. Every new piece of information he leaves about your father makes him hate the man even more. 

It’s when you get to your mother that you find it more difficult to talk with confidence. You find strength in Wonwoo’s touch, his hands gliding over your skin as his lips press to your forehead, taking in each word. Your sorrow at losing the one person who meant something to you, becomes Wonwoo’s sorrow when tears drip from your cheek onto his chest. 

“Baby… I know this is too much. I’m sorry, we can talk more about the business side—”

“It’s okay. It’s his fault.” Rubbing your nose hard, you pull your legs under you, letting Wonwoo tuck you into his side. “I don’t know how, but I just know it is. She didn’t just die.” 

There is no doubt in Wonwoo’s mind that you are right about your assumption. With as much life insurance that your father had placed on you, he could only imagine the amount he would put on a spouse. 

“He kept reminding me after her funeral that I loved him more. He kept giving me gifts and all this money…” 

Leaning his head back against the headboard, Wonwoo tries to picture you mourning and your brute of a father wooing you out of it with possessions. The cold woman who had treated her staff like trash was just a reflection of him. 

“He’ll pay for that, Y/N. I promise.” 

You nod along with Wonwoo’s words, though you don’t understand how he plans on making that happen. In your eyes, your father was bulletproof. He was a cliff face that you kept hitting as the waves pushed you around like you were nothing. 

Tracing the shape of your bottom lip as you rest against his shoulder, Wonwoo furrows his brows, feeling concern wash over him. You had talked until you couldn’t anymore. Exhaustion had taken over you and not even having him next to you or food in your stomach was enough to keep your eyes open any longer. You looked calm like this—breathing softly against his bare skin—even as you squeezed your eyes shut a bit tighter in your sleep. 

Wonwoo carefully slides his arm from under you, letting your cheek rest against his palm as he adjusts the pillow under your head. Now you look comfortable. He hated the idea of not having you in his arms, but there was much left to do. Giving you one more glance as he swipes his phone from the nightstand, Wonwoo opens the bedroom door and closes it before making his way downstairs. 

Seungcheol was trying not to get antsy about his current situation, but the minutes were ticking by and it didn’t seem like you or Wonwoo were in a rush. So when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, the detective lets out a sigh of relief, leaning against his car. 

“I won’t lie, I had a few moments today when I thought you might be fucking me over.” 

Smirking at Seungcheol’s words, Wonwoo uses his index finger to pull the blinds ever so slightly from the window so he can check the street out of habit. 

“Just when we were starting to like one another?” 

Getting behind the wheel of the Audi, Seungcheol scoffs and presses the button to start his car. The sooner he could be away from the station, the better, especially if this conversation was going to go where he imagined it to. Hearing the sound of the engine as Seungcheol wastes no time in pulling out of the parking garage, Wonwoo shakes his head, dropping the blinds back in place and lowering himself into a nearby armchair. 

“I needed time to talk to Y/N. She’s the one with the most information, and she had plenty. Like I said, Cheol… you’ll get a promotion out of this.” 

Seungcheol can’t stop himself from taking a deep breath in anticipation. If the information was as good as Wonwoo was alluding to, this could be the best decision he has ever made. 

“I’m listening.” 

“And I have terms.” 

Of course he did. The good feeling that Seungcheol had for a fleeting moment sank right back into his chest with Wonwoo’s words. Leaning his head back against the leather headrest, Seungcheol tightens his grip on the steering wheel and narrows his eyes as he speaks. 

“Again, I’m listening.” 

Tilting his head, Wonwoo bites at his cheek out of a mixture of nerves and frustration. He knew that Seungcheol would be happy with what he had to tell him, but he had to make sure that you were taken care of. On top of that, he hadn’t known that he wanted to leave with you; that was a possible kink in the plan as far as Seungcheol might be concerned. 

“New name, meaning all IDs.” Seungcheol groans in annoyance at Wonwoo’s request; it was what he had assumed, but as soon as he starts to speak, he is cut off and rendered speechless. “For both of us.” 

“I—” 

Picking at a loose string on the chair, Wonwoo listens to Seungcheol struggle to make heads or tails of what he had just asked of him before he continues. 

“Money; we both know she can’t keep her accounts. We will need a safe flight out of Korea.” 

With his head spinning at all Wonwoo was asking of him, Seungcheol pulls his car over, putting it in park, before letting out an unamused laugh. 

“I—well fuck… anything else? Would you like for me to make her the Queen of England while I’m at it?” The amusement fades from his voice as he smacks at his dashboard. “Why are you asking for impossible things? How in the hell am I going to get you out of Korea?” 

“Figure it out, Seungcheol! Or are you not interested in bringing down her piece of shit father?” 

Throwing up his hands, Seungcheol scoffs in disbelief, unsure what could be worth giving up, Jeon Wonwoo. 

“For what? Some shady trading? The insurance policy? Give me something better than that or I’m gonna bring both of your asses in.” 

“Embezzlement, laundering, and possible murder.” 

Every snide comment and scoff that Seungcheol has been giving Wonwoo stops when he hears those words. 

“If—can she prove it?” 

Looking down at his hands, Wonwoo digs his nail into his thumb, feeling frustrated with Seungcheol and the entire situation. You shouldn't have to prove anything. It was practically being laid out for him, but he understood that some horses had to be led to water. 

“Y/N said there is a lawyer, Son Hyunwoo. Pay him enough and he’ll spill everything.” 

Typing the name into his phone and keeping Wonwoo on speaker in his car, Seungcheol nods, looking over the practice that Son Hyunwoo belongs to and some of his more prevalent clients. To the general public, his client list looked like a billboard for great service and reliability, but to a good detective, it screamed corruption. 

“This is good. If he talks, I’ll get you what you need. I’ll be in touch.” 

Wonwoo runs his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath when the phone disconnects. He hoped for your sake, more than his own, that you were right. 

— Two Days Later —

Bonhwa glares at his phone, seeing Wonwoo’s name. The man had been avoiding him like it was his job and now, just as he was about to have the dogs on his heels, he decided it was a good time to call. Gritting his teeth, Bonhwa answers his phone while pushing the heel of his hand under his nose to clean the white powder from it with a loud sniff. 

“Wanna make this easier on everyone by bringing her to my office? I promise I won’t kill you; just break something.” 

Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo had already prepared for Park Bonhwa’s empty threats. He wasn’t afraid of him anymore than he was afraid of a dog without teeth. He knew that Bonhwa couldn’t find him, which means he couldn’t find you. With time, if the two of you stayed in Seoul, he might get a sniff on a trail, but that wasn’t happening. 

“I’ve been busy. Why are you so fuckin’ grumpy?” 

Watching Seungcheol load a suitcase into the trunk of the car as he talks to you, Wonwoo furrows his brows, hearing Bonhwa’s voice go up an octave. He knew he was pushing his buttons, but he had a reason. There was always a reason behind what Wonwoo did. 

“Why—why am I? You stupid son of a bitch! Half! I get half when I deliver proof of that bitch’s body to Hyong. Do you know how humiliating—” 

Hearing Wonwoo sigh, Bonhwa stops mid sentence to stare at the desk in front of him. He had half a mind to get in his car right now and search the entire city for Jeon Wonwoo. Feeling his phone vibrate in his hand, he furrows his brow and lets out a disgruntled sound, ready to continue telling Wonwoo off when Wonwoo speaks first. 

“Check your email. It’s done… makes no fucking sense to drive around with a body.” 

Your eyes follow Wonwoo as he paces talking to Bonhwa, you barely hear Seungcheol talking to you. Noticing you aren’t understanding what he’s telling you, the man steps in front of you, obscuring your view. 

“Can we finish our conversation now, Y/N? He’s fine. He’s taking care of what he needs to, so let’s go over the rest of this shit.” 

You weren’t sure how you felt about Choi Seungcheol. You could see why he had been the one who had gotten close to Wonwoo, he was tenacious and abrasive. Nodding, you watch as Seungcheol lifts his brows and leans to take a folder out of his car, showing it to you. 

“ID, passport, some cash... Wonwoo knows how to get more when it’s needed. This won’t be like the pampered life you had before, so—” 

“You don’t know anything about me, Seungcheol.” 

In the short time that he had known you, Seungcheol had heard you speak a handful of times. You had to let Wonwoo speak for you or at least let him carry the conversations. To say that he perhaps had a skewed view of you based on what he knew about your father and researching you, would be an understatement. 

“Maybe not, but I’m just saying... make it last. Keep your mouth shut.” 

Holding out your hand for the folder, you lock eyes with Seungcheol as he places it in yours. 

“I’m not stupid.” 

A smirk pulls at one side of the detective’s lips at your words. That he did know. There was no way Wonwoo would put this much effort into keeping you alive if you were. Letting go of the folder, Seungcheol takes a step back and glances back to Wonwoo as he grunts, bending the phone in his hand with some effort. The screen shatters first and then the metal gives way, effectively destroying the device before he tosses it towards the river, listening to the dull thud when it hits the surface. 

“That bullshit is done. He’s satisfied with what you came up with.” 

Scoffing, Seungcheol shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, feeling a bit offended at the insinuation that anyone wouldn’t be satisfied with his work. He had gone above and beyond for this. You had been lucky that the information you had provided for him had been the best he had received in a long time. It had served as motivation for what Seungcheol saw as a work of art. 

“Yeah? Well maybe you should have dealt with pulling a Jane Doe out of the morgue.” 

Wonwoo exhales an unamused laugh, sliding his hand around your waist. He knew that Seungcheol had worked hard and he appreciated it. He could almost taste freedom and it was a strange sensation. 

“No thanks. I’ll leave that to the professionals.” Leaning to kiss the side of your head, Wonwoo gives you a once over before glancing back at the car, seeing it packed. “Ready to go?” 

You had no idea where you and Wonwoo were going. He and Seungcheol told you that in case things went south, it was better for you to know less. While you understood that, it still made leaving your entire life behind even more terrifying. Still, as you meet Wonwoo’s eyes, seeing that reassuring look in them, you manage to nod. 

“Perfect, can’t wait to get you both out of my hair.” 

Wonwoo grins at Seungcheol’s words, knowing that while he was trying to crack a joke, there was a layer of truth to them, especially concerning himself. 

“Don’t worry, Cheol. We won’t darken your doorstep again.” 

Taking a step backwards, towards his own car, Seungcheol points at Wonwoo as he speaks. 

“I’ll fuckin’ hold you to it. Show your face around here again and I’ll throw your ass in a cell.” 

Shaking his head, Wonwoo turns his attention back to you, reaching to open the passenger's side door. He lets you sit down as he looks down at you, much like he did a week ago under much different circumstances. 

“Where are we going, Wonwoo?” 

You watch curiously as he tilts his head and purses his lips, trying to think of how to tell you the answer without actually answering it. 

“Did you pack a bikini?” 

READ THE BONUS ON PATREON

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[imogenegomi]

Chapter three is now up! 😊

[whysamwhy123]

Never got around to doing this before, so fuck it, I'll do it now!

WriteSamWrite - Works | Archive of Our Own

You can find all of my fics here (you need an account to read 'em because that's just how I roll) I tend to jump from pairing to pairing without warning, with a lot of rarepairs mixed in between. Nowadays, I mostly write OrangeHook, but there's some Hookhausen there too, and a little bit of JungleHook and Dustjim. Oh, and I recently started a self-indulgent Ricky/Christian AU that I'm weirdly invested in, if that somehow interests y'all. I'm the slowest writer imaginable, but I'm steadily plucking away at a bunch of stuff right now, and while a lot of it is Weird, who knows, you just might find something that appeals to you!

wrestling fic writers!!

i have decided to be the change i wanna see, so lets do a nice little thing for each other, as a community full of incredible and talented writers. yes this is writer specific only, but thats cause thats where the main problem of people not interacting with creative works lies in this fandom as far as i can tell and have seen people talking about it especially in the last couple of months

if you read this, please add links to your written works. it can be just a single fic youre really proud of, your writing blog, your writing tag, your ao3 account, anything where your works can be found

and if you leave your link here, PLEASE check out someone else that has left their works, and interact with them. leave them a comment, even just a kudos, REBLOG their fic, etc. interacting is the keyword i want to emphasize here, along with building a sort of a masterpost of where to find people writing in this fandom

and if you are not a writer, youre still highly encouraged to interact with this post and share it and show love to the writers in this fandom, obviously!! i think that should go without saying, but adding it in anyways

a bit more about my vision and resources and such under the read more, but thats the gist of it. happy linking and please be kind and supportive to each other!! 💜

nobody is too big or too small to add their things on this list. if you write and post anything in this fandom whatsoever, be it fics or drabbles or headcanons, any companies or any kind of ships or reader inserts or any content whatsoever no matter how 'dead dove dont eat' or hell even if its just meta, we welcome all here and nobody can say that one thing is less valid than another. just please tag your content accordingly, especially if theres content warnings, and feel free to mention what you write, who you write, any info you wish to leave that would help people before they click on your links. but even so, that should not and hopefully will not deter people from interacting, no matter what it is. someones trash is another ones treasure, i promise you

and unless the amount gets really overwhelming, im personally going to be checking out everyone that leaves something here. unless it squeaks me out, but even then, i'll spread the word. and i just wish as many people as possible will do the same, and not just use this as a potential board to only get eyes on their stuff. ofc thats also the point, but you should give as much, if not more, than you get. we need to be kind and supportive of one another (besides, from personal experience, if you show love to someone else, they are more likely to do it back than without you taking the first step, so... pay it forward)

as for resources, heres a few links that should be helpful in leaving comments and feedback. of course everyone does their own thing and no comment is too big or too small to leave, but for those who need them. if you have anything you'd like added to this list, dont hesitate to get in touch or drop it in the post yourself!!

101 comment starters

ao3 floating comment box

kudos html

dont know how to comment? easy solutions

a quick hot guide to commenting (by yours truly)

an overall guide to appreciating fanfic writers

and just in general.. leave people comments. leave them asks about their projects. just go over and gush about their work. i know it sounds embarrassing but writers love nothing more than to hear that someone likes what they are doing. if you find a fic that hasnt been updated in forever, comment on it. it might just be the spark the author needs to continue. while kudos and likes are nice, and just as valuable to some, its definitely in the words the people leave for them that matter the most. im not saying this to put pressure on anyone, its just how it is, and i feel like unless people are writers themselves, and even then sometimes, thats just hard to grasp, especially if the writer is a smaller and less popular one who doesnt get a lot of traffic in the first place

i think thats all. just be nice and considered to everyone, reblog peoples works, this post with others add ons and so forth. and if i find anyone talking shit here or at other writers for something they share, you'll be blocked and im probably taking your kneecaps. be fucking nice. we are all struggling here and we need to stick together

happy sharing and commenting 💜💜

[anonybaby]

I can’t confirm the validity of this tweet but someone on X reposted it, calling out Randy for his savagery and I just HAD to share it here in case it hasn’t been seen. 🤣🥹😅

Oh Teddy.. the stories you could tell if you weren’t sworn to secrecy lol 🥹🫶🏼 you really were the best wort body guard ever and I love you for it.

(And it’s just some good ol fashioned motivation for me to carry on with writing my chapters that are including a lot more Ted Jr✍️)