#self reblog for the day crowd~
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Looks like this piece of filth blew up 🤪 There should be a Steve’s Sluts club.
Steve making out with your pussy, his tongue greedily working itself inside of you, and his nose sliding in your slick and pushing against your clit on every upstroke. He’s groaning, whining, panting, and rubbing himself over the mattress. His big hands are wrapped around your thighs to hold you open — alternating between dipping a finger down to work inside your sopping wet cunt, also using two to spread your labia apart so he can devour every inch of you and your wetness. Occasionally he’ll bring your hands to his hair and encourage you to pull, loose tendrils tickling your inner thighs. He’ll lace your fingers together and hold on tight as you start to cum, but then he most likely has one hand full of his thick fingers to assist him in making you fall apart.
It’s not that he can’t just use his tongue (my god, the many times he has used that to devour and destroy you alone), it’s that he knows when it’s real good for you to have that added stimulation inside those tight walls, something to grab onto — it helps you crash harder. And Steve is greedy when it comes to you. There’s nothing like your pussy tightening around his cock or his fingers, fresh, creamy cum splashing out around his fingers and drenching his mouth and chin. God, there’s nothing quite fucking like it to him…
His eyes are blown to the wind, cinnamon flecks shattered in those midnight black pupils, crowing the space of his sclera. He descends upon you and you spread your legs, allowing, practically begging him to pet you through the aftershocks. Both of you are ready for more soon after…
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
the prettiest girl in the room (smut)
paring ↬ Eddie Munson x fem!reader
summary ↬ You shared a secret relationship with Eddie, if that’s what you could even consider it. You wished for more but never could bring yourself to tell Eddie this. What happens when your at a party and he gets dared to kiss the prettiest girl in the room?
word count ↬ almost 3k
a/n: felt inspired to write for my pookie eddie munson again.. I will cherish this man till the day I die luv uuuuuu
reblogs & feedback appreciated ♡
“Truth or dare?”
“Dare.” Eddie responds, sitting back in the couch with his legs spread waiting for his dare. You watch him smiling at his cocky grin towards the random freshman that chose him for truth or dare. Eddie would undoubtedly answer any question or complete any dare thrown his way.
“I dare you to…” The freshman’s voice fades as he looks around the room, trying to think of how to finish his sentence. Eddie only laughs in response, making a joke about finishing his dare sometime today.
Everyone is laughing but you, eyes still on Eddie. Your lips press to your solo cup, taking a sip of the drink someone mixed for you. Your thoughts are else where, the way Eddie is sat reminds you of the night before. When you were sat in his lap, riding his cock. His lips pressed to your chest, leaving marks that are still there. Hidden under your bra.
The freshman takes too long, to the point others begin to suggest dares for Eddie. He still hasn’t looked at you, and maybe that’s entirely your own fault. The two of you have been dating secretly for a few months now. He was the one to offer the secrecy to you, as an attempt to keep your perfect reputation. At first you thought it would be a one time thing so you agreed. Nothing more than a meaningless drunken hook up but after that he had you hooked. You kept coming back for more, until it became a nearly daily occurrence.
The talk of what you two were never to be had. Feelings growing on both sides, and now here you are. At a party tipsier than you should be. You stopped keeping count a while ago. Staring at him with fuck me eyes, too drunk to care who’s watching. You two exchanged a few smiles, brief conversations as if you two were nothing more than acquaintances. Which upset you but at the end of the day it’s your fault for making Eddie feel like he needed to be a secret in the first place.
“I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl in the room.” The freshman finally speaks, louder than everyone in the room. Shutting everyone up as they watch in anticipation of who he will choose.
You too are watching the only difference is your eyes haven’t left Eddie all night. His eyes scan the room, playfully looking at all the different girls. Finally his eyes land on yours, only stopping for a moment before moving on. Your heart is broken, begging for you to leave the room. In one swift moment he stands up and walks across the room, away from you. Of all the people he could kiss right now, he chooses the worst possible choice. His ex.
Can’t bring your self to watch, looking down at your cup. Your eyes finally leaving the man you’ve been secretly dating for months now. As people begin to cheer and laugh at the kiss shared between ex lovers. Eddie pulls away, viewers chanting for more.
“Nah I did my dare, I’m done. Who’s next?” He chuckles as he plops down onto the couch where he was previously sitting.
The game continues on like you didn’t just witness the man you’ve grown to care for, maybe even love kiss his ex. You’re a mixture of anger and sadness but self aware enough to know that this is your own doing. It’s all too much so without announcing your departure, you stand up and walk through the crowded room. You finish off your drink, throw away the evidence and make an attempt to leave the party.
Realizing that you’re entirely fucked, no way to leave. Your home too far to walk, your ride somewhere in the party with absolutely no intention of leaving any time soon. Annoyed because you only came with your friend because you knew Eddie would be here, hoping that you showing up would have ended differently.
A frustrated sigh leaves your mouth as you head outside anyways. Deciding to take a moment to breathe before heading back into the party. Thanking whoever’s listening when you walk out side to an empty porch. Sitting down on the steps, looking out at the silent road filled with unfamiliar houses. A few cars drive by as time passes.
You sit there staring and thinking about how you ended up here. Alone but having a secret relationship, with a man you’ve grown to love. Not even entirely sure if his feelings are mutual. You’ve been spending so much time with him. Most if not all instances leading to sex. Even when you two aren’t fucking, there’s a connection. You’ve spent more time at his trailer than your own home in that last month. He makes you so happy, quickly become the person you run to when you need anything. Doing everything a relationship entails without labeling it.
You’re broken out of your thoughts by the sound of the front door opening and that oh so familiar scent of cigarettes, weed and his cheap cologne you’ve grown to love. Your eyes stay down, looking at your fingers that fiddle with anxiety as he sits next to you.
“I was looking for you.” He speaks, facing you.
“I just needed some air.” You whisper, avoiding eye contact but Eddie knows better. Knows that you’re upset at the kiss and too stubborn to admit that.
“Why are you crying?” He asks, touching your chin and tugging at your face to look at him. You didn’t even realize you were crying, so you wipe away the tears. As a sad attempt to mask your pain. Mentally noting that you had too much to drink as you plaster a fake smile on your lips.
“I don’t know. It’s stupid. It’s probably cause I’m so drunk.” You force a laugh, wiping away at the remaining tears. Eddie doesn’t laugh and obviously doesn’t buy your excuse.
“Is this because I kissed her and not you?” He questions, and your smile fades as you nod your head in response.
“I didn’t want to kiss her. I just about puked as I did it. Was so close to blowing chunks all over her.” He admits, letting him self laugh at the thought causing you to feel a little better.
“I wanted to kiss you, only you. I just wasn’t sure if you would have been okay with that.. considering we’re just kinda hooking up or whatever this is. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with such a public display of affection.” He further explains, all anger you had dissipating as quickly as it came.
“I wouldn’t have been uncomfortable.” You respond.
“Also was afraid once I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop. I’ve been watching you all night, staring at me with those eyes. Like you want me to drag you upstairs to an empty room and fuck you. Been walking around with a hard on all night, waiting till we can be alone.” He lets out a sheepish laugh, adjusting him self as your eyes are wide. You’ve been with a few partners before, none of which had such a dirty mouth as Eddie. Constantly out doing himself on the naughty words that leave his mouth.
“I was not staring at you like that.” You lie, grinning playfully swatting his shoulder. His laugh only grows, throwing his arm around you. You rest your tired drunken head, into his embrace.
“You’re a shit liar. Tell me what you want.”
“You. I don’t want to this.. us to be a secret anymore.” You admit, looking up at him while his arm is still stretched over your shoulder.
“Yeah?” He asks as he looks down on you.
“Yeah. I want to be the prettiest girl in the room.” You say with no filter. Admitting your drunken insecurities outloud, cringing as soon as it leaves your mouth.
“You are always the prettiest girl in any room. Only now you’ll be my prettiest girl, okay?” He says pressing a simple sweet kiss to your forehead. You nod in response, the biggest grin plastered on your face as if you weren’t sobbing moments ago.
“I think I need to fuck you so good that you forget about that kiss.” He whispers, his lips only a few inches away from yours.
“I think so too.” You say, before closing the distance. Pressing your lips to his, kissing him tenderly. His lips move with yours, as your hands find the back of his neck pulling him closer. Without thinking about it you slowly lower the two of you until he’s on top of you. Smiling and lettting out a giggle into the kiss as your back hits the cold wet wood of the porch.
“What’s so funny?” He pulls away, just enough to break the kiss.
“The way I was about ready to let you have your way with me outside on this porch. Can we go somewhere else?” You ask, looking up at him while he’s staring at your lips.
He rolls his eyes, getting up off you and standing up. Eddie reaches his hand out to which you take letting him help you up. He leads you back into the house, through the crowd of people. You’re too busy watching the man you’re with to notice the stares. Your man.
He leads you up some stairs, pushing through several people waiting for the restroom to a dark empty bedroom. He pushes you inside, following closely behind. While you take a few steps in he locks the door. When you turn to face him he’s already standing near you, looking down on you.
“How’d I get so lucky?” Eddie says as pulls you closer, his arms find their way to under your thighs. Picking you up in one swift motion.
“So fucking beautiful and all mine.” He gently sets you on the bed, never letting go. He’s on top of you, looking at you with so much more than just lust.
“All yours.” You respond, your hands already working on taking his shirt off.
“So eager.” He laughs, pulling it off the rest of the way.
You watch in anticipation as he undresses himself. Once he’s full naked and ready, he’s tugging at your pants. You lift your hips to help him as he slips them off. After a few moments you’re both naked and he’s dropping to his knees. His arms under your legs pulling you closer to the edge of the bed. His face a few inches away from your glistening cunt.
“I love the way you’re always so ready for me. Always so wet.” He murmurs, kissing your inner thigh.
Without hesitation his mouth dips into your folds, finding your most sensitive spot. Kissing it lightly before applying more pressure. Your hand find his hair, your hips tighten as your mouth lets sweet moans leave it. Letting him know he’s doing a good job. His tongue plays with your clit, as his finger slips into your hole. A loud moan leaves your mouth at the new sensation.
He continues, his motivation is the sinful sounds that come from your lips. He hears you say more somewhere in the mix of moans and curse words. So he adds another finger, pumping in and out of you at a steady pace. His mouth still tactfully working on your bud. He knows exactly what he’s doing and how to get you to your climax. The squeezing of your walls, lets him know you are close.
“Don’t stop.” You mutter pulling on his hair, as an attempt to pull him closer. Your hips moving with his face, nearly riding it in an attempt to finish. Eddie moves faster, just enough to cause you to come undone. Releasing all over his fingers. He slows his movements until they come to a halt as he pulls away.
“You always taste so good. Do you wanna taste?” He ask as he stands up, his two fingers finding their way to your mouth.You nod yes in response, opening your mouth enough so he can set them on your tongue. You taste yourself while never breaking eye contact even when he pulls them from your mouth.
“Fuck you’re such a good girl.” Eddie groans, pulling you back to the edge of the bed.
He raises one of your legs with one hand, the other hand aligning his cock to your hole. As he slowly, inch by inch fills you up he’s grabbing your other leg. Both of them in the air and supported by Eddie as he bottoms out inside of you. You whimper at the stretch and the feeling of being full. His hips start to move, slow motions as he fucks you. Painfully slow, you need more.
It’s like he can read your minds because before you can ask, he’s pounding into you at a brutal pace. You’re a moaning mess under him, your legs being pushed wider as he fucks you harder. The only sounds is your moans, his grunting and the sound of skin slapping. Your pussy is so wet it’s loud as he goes in and out of you. The muffled sounds of the party down stairs is barley heard theough the door. Everyone upstairs can most certainly hear but in the moment you couldn’t care less.
“Fuck, you take me so good. It’s like your pussy was made for my cock.” He stammers as he attempts to talk while sinking in and out of your wet, warm core.
He continues to speak his mind, letting all his thoughts flow out without a filter. His movements never stop, desperate to please you and please himself in the process. He’s pushing you deeper into the bed with every single thrust. Your hands find their way to his back, as he pressed himself closer to you. Kissing you hungrily as his hips continue to roll into you. Your hands scratch into his back, leaving marks in their tracks. He groans as a response, into your lips as you two kiss.
You start to feel that familiar coiling tension. Your fluttering walls let Eddie know that you’re coming close to your climax. He continues the same pace, pulling his face away from yours so he can watch you come undone. His favorite thing to witness and be the cause of. Your back arches as the tensions finally snaps. Your walks tighten as you come all over his cock.
Which is enough to push him over the edge, he pulls himself out leaving you empty. Without missing a beat he grips his dick, pumping it roughly. Allowing himself to finish on your stomach. When he’s done, he’s pressing a sweet breathy kiss to your lips before stumbling around in the dark to find something to clean up the mess he made.You lay there for a moment before feeling him wipe you clean. When he’s sure as he can be that he got it all, he throws it across the room.
“Eddie you can’t just..” Your own words cut off as you start to wonder whose room you two just fucked in.
“Whose room is this?” You question as he helps you get dressed again. As he pulls your shirt down over your head, he’s laughing.
“Jason Carvers.” He speaks, you look around for the first time and it’s most definitely a basketball players room.
“You didn’t.. we didn’t.” You reply, suddenly in a hurry to get dressed and back to the party. Moving his hands off you so he can get himself dressed.
“We did.” He grins, pulling his jeans on.
“Eddie..” You groan his name out but it doesn’t last long. His smile bringing you to smile.
Once you’re both dressed, he’s pressing another kiss to your lips. He grabs your hand and gently leads you out of the bedroom, praying that no one is sober enough to remember Eddie and you going into Jason’s room. Only to met with several pairs of eyes, not so silently watching and judging you. Eddie doesn’t seem to care, so you pretend to not notice. Following him back downstairs, to the couch where he was sat early.
“Eddie.. I want to go to yours. Can we leave?” You say stopping him before he can take a seat.
“Give me like thirty minutes to sober up. I’m not nearly as intoxicated as you are…” He teases.
“But I did drink a little bit. We can leave soon, okay?” He says as he sits down, pulling you into his lap. You have the cheesiest smile plastered on your lips. He’s acting as if it’s just another day, like this is a totally normal occurrence between the two of you. Like everyone in this room didn’t just watch him kiss his ex as a dare.
“Okay.” You nod, that smile still shining.
“You’re so cute and so drunk.” He whispers softly, his lips inches away from yours.
“And?” You question.
“And you’re so mine.” He says matter of factly.
“And?” You question again, eyes brows raised. Knowing what your tipsy self wants to hear. As you smile waiting, he looks lost but you see it click in his eyes before he rolls them.
“And you’re the prettiest girl in the room.” He lets out a soft chuckle before kissing you unapologetically. You kiss him back, drunkenly unaware of the eyes on you two and the gossip beginning to spread around the two of you. Nothing could ruin this moment for you.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie x y/n#eddie x fem!reader#eddie x you#stranger things eddie#eddie x reader#eddie smut#eddie imagine#eddie stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#munson
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Anyways, baeddel is a slur against trans women.
Yes, there once was a weird group of girls who ressurected this long dead word for representing an ideology (I'm not getting into it but it did suck, just not cuz they "hated" men). This group self destructed before ever getting that many people. It was small. A tiny group. Their ideology wasn't popular either.
But, truscum, anti-sjws (conservatives by another name) and hate sites like kf would start to use the term to refer to any trans woman that they decided wasn't "trans enough" or "woman enough" or more importantly, was "too political" (ie talks about transmisogyny, talks about feminism, talks about leftism, etc.). Baeddel became a stand in for "tranny" "faggot," it's the trans woman stand in for the "nasty man hating dyke" sentiment.
Now, a small niche group of trans mascs on Tumblr dot com have created this concept that the baeddels didn't self destruct, apparently they actually are this insanely popular group whose ideology has spread into modern LGBT politics and has "poisoned" everything. This is just a lie. The baeddels group never had enough members to spread that much, the group didn't last long enough, and it was almost entirely located on Tumblr. The people with "baeddel" in their url or bio or whatever these days have no connection to the political group of old, it's a reclaiming of a word used against them, as explained in the third paragraph.
If someone is calling trans women "baeddels" or talking about baeddels in their posts or whatever, they're just calling trans women faggots. It's "gay agenda," but for the transmisogynists. This is a small bit of why I can't take the "transandrophobia is real" crowd seriously. I knew actual baeddels, the ideological ones, they are not the women they're referring to. They are using a slur to refer to trans women they don't like and are trying to hide it behind some dead ideology that most of them don't even know.
Baeddel is meant to be a scary word, it's meant to silence women. Just like, 5 or 6 years ago, claiming a trans woman was a baeddel was enough to effectively get her "canceled," no matter what she said. But, that doesn't work as easily now. And now these trans masc people are getting information from terfs and lesbophobes and violent transmisogynists about how violent trans women are, about how privileged trans women are, about how transmisogyny is actually fake ("we all experience transmisogyny!") and they did this by lacing it with actual trans masc issues. They present an issue trans mascs do actually face, that could use discussion, and then in the very next post talk about the scary baeddels, the mean baeddels, trans women are so terrible. And these people assume this person can't have an ulterior motive, reblog it, file it away in their brain, so when trans women come in and are like "hey no that's bigotry" these trans mascs froth at the mouth to eviscerate her. It's the dreaded baeddel. Here to oppress me.
I'm going off topic but I digress, if you're calling trans women "baeddel," stop it. You don't know what that word means.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
good luck charm!
things they do before a (winning) match
bllk boys x reader (reo, rin, sae): fluff, drabbles, pro!player, not proofread + likes n reblogs are appreciated!
reo mikage:
reo’s always thought of superstitions stupid: the way his parents ask fortune tellers about specific dates and time for certain events from business investment to even when to host meetings, the way his friends would follow superstitions told by their parents from crossing their fingers before receiving their results to avoiding cracks at the pathways in school, the way he recluntantly follow them because its “tradition”. but maybe he’s no different from them, he thinks. its the big match: one that will decide whether he’ll prove his father wrong - the world cup finale. he’s anxious: his hands are all sweaty and shaky as he puts down his water bottle, water still dripping from it from the mouth of it, his heart is beating the fastest its ever had as though he’s about to have a heart attack, and his mind is hazy with self-deprecating thoughts that practically chain him to the seats. he closes his eyes and tries to slow his breathing, he has only a few more minutes left before he has to get on field, a few more minutes before he either makes it and becomes a professional footballer or break it and be enchained to his family company for the rest of his life.
superstition. good luck charms. reo’s getting desperate, he’ll take whatever at this point. whether its removing that polaroid of you from the back of his phone to trace with his shaky fingers and press his lips against, or placing the cold matching necklace with you against his palm to cool his nerve down to focus onto the freezing sensation over the beating o his heart, or even taking your spare candies from his bag to chew on one or two. and he’ll let the sweetness burst in his mouth: ignore the drying of his mouth as he walks out on field, ignore shakiness of his entire being, ignore his heart failing him.
and when reo kicks the last goal, his eyes instantly search for yours in the crowd of people, recognising you within a few seconds amongst the millions cheering. and he thinks: you might just be his guardian angel, after all its with you that hes able to win. and perhaps, that cold necklace might calm him down more if it was a ring on his fingers, he gets real fidgetive before a match after all.
itoshi rin
in contrast to what others think, rin’s a nervous wreck before a match, especially one where hes now competing against his brother: no longer part of blue lock, but in a team, on the global stage. hes insecure, he knows he’ll never compare to sae, hes aware of that since he was a little kid he thinks by the countless of golden awards that people credit sae for rather him, countless of opportunities only given to sae and never to him. and his usual routine is thrown out of the window: he cant just rely on just motivsting himself to perform by thinking of those burning feelings im his chest, cant just rely on pure instincts he thinks as his legs turn into jelly, cant rely on himself solely. its not the first time either he feels like this: in his first match thst he won the night sae came back home for the first time, in his match at blue lock against u20 japan team, and now in his match against real madrid in the world cup finale. proving sae wrong: thats what hes been working on for the entirety of his teensge life, but for once, hes not so certain anymore. rin feels like a little kid, he feels lost, and he could run away: the door has always been open, and its not as though sae hasnt cursed him to this.
and rin’s spiralling again, the ring of his braclet that he bought with you the day before he first ever entered blue lock brings him back to reality: sitting on the bench in the locker room all alone when his other teammates are all chatting amongst themself a little further away from him. rin should go soon, he looks up at the clock, a few more minutes before showtime. and as always, like clockwork, he opens his phone and plays his favourite voice memo: one where you simply wish him good luck, telling him you believe he’ll win in that same cheery tune that he misses.
and when rin kicks the final goal, the world stops. silence, before the chant of the crowd overwhelms his ears and his teammate throw him on his shoulders: he made it. and yet, for the first time, instead of looking at his brother for validation, for his praise, for his reassurance: he finds you in the crowd and all he can think is now hoping you can rerecord that good luck message, maybe a video this time. after all, if your voice recording can help him to score two goals, he might just ace his next match with a personalised video from you: but for now, he’ll dedicate this win to you with a kiss to yours and his necklace.
itoshi sae
its just another match for sae: and yet he feels totally drained out compared to usual. no doubt, he’s lost his spark and passion that he used to hold on to tightly when he was a teenager, and he’s been playing simply for the sake of it. and maybe its tthe back to back matches that weighs him down like stones, or maybe its homesickness, missing everything he wants to chase back now that hes all grown, or maybe its simply the usual nervousness before a match. deep down, depsite his ambitions, hes insecure: hes no genius, he knows, it was a bitter revelation he finds out when he leaves, crying silently in the bathroom with no one around him but geniuses, and maybe it lingers in him: that hes never truly accepted his mediocrity. yet, he knows every and any match matters: he should get up now, join his teammates in those cheers, or at least get himself ready for the match starting in a few minutes instead of wallowing in his own misery, hogging the seats in the locker room. hes got all his usual routine done too: wearing the socks you bought him when he first came back from spain, stretched the way he was taught to, drank the water he needed to in the cute little water bottle he matches with you — but hes still missing something.
sae thinks its silly, he only does this ritual whenever its a big match, and this match is nothing special. logically, the opponents are much weaker and even at his current state, he’ll likely win them still. but he supposes he can indulge a little, after all its almost 6 months since hes seen you: with the season having started at the start of your internship. a minute before the match begins, and he hurriedly presses yours and his promise necklace onto his forehead as though a prayer and he walks with his teammates onto the field.
and when sae assists in the final goal, he smiles unconsciously in contrast to his usual self: he wonders if youre watching and he knows the answer when he opens his phone and sees you send a photo of news article speculating of his and yours promise necklace debut to the football world. he looks at the date, one more week, one more match until he gets to see you again — he cant wait already, but maybe while hes here in spain, maybe he should get you something special.
#reo mikage x reader#two weeks work attachment coming im cooked#mikage reo x reader#reo x reader#reo mikage fluff#rin itoshi x reader#itoshi rin x reader#rin x reader#itoshi rin fluff#itoshi sae x reader#sae itoshi x reader#sae x reader#itoshi sae fluff#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#bllk fluff#blue lock fluff#rin.<3
653 notes
·
View notes
Text
results are in for this one chatters
the other thing rgg fans dont like is andre richardson and on this day i would like to revoke my rgg fan license because i think its hilarious he's still here
#self reblog#snap chats#HELP#i was absent for two (2) days#anyway fair point here is how mine got no mention in the entirety of y8 bar quiz questions#but even that itself is really funny to me. like not a thought about him kiryu ? in the slightest ?#girl im gonna throw up laughing rgg tryna act like bro dont exist .....#too late mfer yall released like a dragon ishin now EVERYONE fixated on mine and what he up to#so funny how prior to y8 im pretty sure most people wouldve struggled to even remember richardson esp his name#like yeah sure mine dragged him off a building but bar that would anyone really note him#NOW hes like. a trigger word for mine enjoyers right that how you weed em out in a crowd#so funny ... its all so funny i really cant hate it in the slightest#again even though mine has absolutely no mention whatsoever in y8 I Repeat it is. so funny#like its so deliberate and bizarre compared to every other character being mentioned its beyond comical#alright ive got food to look at but not eat bye bye
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
— ✦ sugar & spice | jeon wonwoo
PAIRING: bodyguard!wonwoo x celebrity!reader (fem!reader)
SUMMARY: it wasn’t your fault you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, however, the people had a lot to say about that, especially since your father a public figure. but when he’s falsely accused of taking bribes and money laundering, your whole life falls apart, and things start to get out of hand and dangerous. that’s when you meet wonwoo - the bodyguard who’s been assigned to stay by your side and protect you 24/7. the only problem? he was really cold, but also irresistibly attractive. it was going to be a task to try and befriend him, but who said you weren’t up for the challenge.
THEMES: bodyguard au, mutual pining, slow burn
WARNINGS: use of curse words, mentions of anxiety, social anxiety, panic attack, crowds, fighting, violence, kissing, suggestive, just wonwoo being a whole heartthrob
WORDCOUNT: 29.2k
A/N: this fic was so self-indulgent oh my god. thank you to rania @wheeboo for feeding my delusions for this fic and proofreading it for me, ilysm <33 reblogs and feedback are always appreciated ^^ i would love to know your thoughts! enjoy reading ^^
full fic under the cut
“all right, class, that’s it for today. please come collect your mock test papers as you exit”, the professor announces and everyone starts talking, the room echoing with voices and movement as people get up, their feet shuffling as they stand in line to collect their papers from the front.
you come up in front and your professor gives you a smile as he hands yours back to you. “good job yn, near perfect score”, he says and you smile back. “thanks prof”, you tell, beaming as you take your paper and move. but you don’t miss the snide remark told by someone behind you and the few laughs that occur. but you ignore the comment and walk away.
you were used to people telling you that, people envying you and not in a nice way. you’d heard all kinds of things all your life. “bet they only got in because of her connections” or “they’re only top of the class because of they’re father’s influence” but all of those were very untrue. you were truly passionate about what you were studying and doing, but the people didn’t seem to think so.
yes, you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, coming from a prestigious family with a lot of influence - your dad being a huge business tycoon, which made your family really rich and influential. but growing up, you wanted nothing more than to be not associated with him. your name was always tied with his - and you hated that. it never gave you the chance to be your own person, to have your own identity, which you craved for.
growing up only became harder when your mother passed away when you were still young. she was ill and there was nothing that could be done to save her, it had been too late. your moments and memories with her were limited considering you were only ten when she passed away, but still, everything you remembered about her you cherished, and you aimed to make her proud one day, proud of the person you’ve become. as a token from your mother, you had kept her ring and no, not her wedding ring, but another ring she wore. it was a dainty ring with a pretty pattern and you had always loved that ring as a child. so now you wore it, to remember her, to keep some part of her with you.
and of course, with growing up, the biggest struggle of all for you was making friends. when you were younger, you were actually good at making friends, you had plenty in fact. but as you grew up, you learned to see who was just befriending you for ulterior motives and whatnot, and you soon became good at filtering who you really became friends - close friends with. but in all those years, you only made two friends like that. they were the purest and sweetest souls ever - rania and skye. they were your best friends. they were your childhood friends and the only ones you opened up to and grew close to. while you still had a group of friends you interacted with on an everyday and casual basis, there wasn’t anyone you were close with besides them. there was also your current boyfriend - jaehyun. it was silly really, you had a crush on him for a while and soon the news spread from god knows where and one day he asked you out. you were so head over heels that you said yes of course, because which fool would turn down their crush?
you're sitting across the table from your father, who’s busy talking to someone on the phone. it was a weekly thing that you had to have dinner at your father’s house.
"yes i want to see a sample of the product before we send it into manufacturing”, your father speaks to the person on the other line.
you stare down at your plate, moving your fork around as you listen to him speak. you and your father didn’t have the best relationship, it was rocky and messy, to say the least. ever since your mother passed away, you both drifted apart, your father focusing on the business and you just trying to get through the days as you tried to cope with the sudden loss. and you both somehow stayed like that, drifted apart. but that didn’t mean he was a bad guy. he still did nice things for you and you both had your moments, but it was strained. let's just say he wasn't the best father figure growing up.
you were used to having filler conversations about your life with your father like this. all he does is nod before he goes back to scrolling on his phone. half the time during your childhood and even now, you barely saw your father. he was always busy with work or attending meetings about god knows what. so that meant you were all alone in the big house which got lonely. that’s when you decided to move into a different house, have your own space and make it cosy too. at first, your father wasn’t too keen on the idea, but you were old enough now, in college too, so he agreed. so now you live alone in a house comfortable enough to make into your own little safe haven.
you unlock your front door, sliding into your house slippers as you trudge inside, discarding your bag on the couch as you open the fridge to grab a bottle of cold water to refresh yourself. today had been a long day. apart from studies, you also volunteered at a local cat shelter for rescues and the local public library. you enjoyed doing both things so you were more than happy to volunteer. they both had their perks 1) free cuddles and serotonin from all the kittens and cats 2) you could borrow as many books as you wanted so it was a win-win.
you were used to your father being on the news, he was a businessman after all, an influential man, someone important. but with all that came all the trolls, the hate and people who were obviously jealous and disliked him for no reason at all. all this in turn was also directed towards you. you were often called the silver spoon kid, nepo baby, or someone who’s life was handed to you on a silver platter. for the most of the time, you tried to ignore them, but of course as any normal human, it affected you. you hated it at times infact. you hated how people could concoct a ridiculous assumption about you based on nothing and it infuriated you. but you’d learn to grow up with it, grow up being watched, hounded at, judged at and trolled at. that was what you get for simply existing and being born in a wealthy family. and somewhere along the way you developed an anxiety about this and it made you scared to get close and open up to people.
when you first joined college, it was hell. people took pictures without your consent all the time and they still did at times, but you’ve given up at trying to stop it. you were used to people's cameras at you, fingers at you, talking about you and also using you. everyone wanted to be your friend and butter you up to you, but when you started putting boundaries, they were quick to call you names. you were surrounded by paparazzi going to you during the first week and even now on the occasional basis, someone was always following you and snapping pictures of you. even if you told yourself it was okay, it was not and deep down you hated it. but what could you do?
your father, well he didn’t seem to mind all the comments being told about him, as long as his business went well at the end of the day. but if you were going to be honest, your father was pretty smart and he had a knack for what he was doing, that’s what made him so successful. but that didn’t mean he didn’t hit bumps along the way, oh he did. you still remember the headline your father made when he invested money into a broken startup. but now he was making millions as the company took off.
today morning was a good day. the sun was shining bright and the clouds were white against the blue sky. it wasn’t too hot, a comfortable temperature - it was the ideal day and you were more than happy about this weather. you get ready for college, it was your last semester before you graduated. you grab your phone from the desk table only to realise it was dead and you plug it in as you head to the bathroom to get ready. you quickly put on an outfit, grab your books, bag, and your phone on the way out. you lock your door and raise your hand to unlock your car, opening the door and sitting inside. you drive to college, putting on some music, in a good mood today as you softly sing along to the song that was playing on the radio.
you park your car in the parking lot, which was already crowded and you mentally cursed at the way people parked sometimes. you exit the car and walk towards campus, trying to unlock your phone but it doesn't open. that’s when you realise it was still dead - silly you had forgot to turn on the switch when you plugged your phone in. you mentally curse as you walk towards class, hoping someone had a spare phone charger for you to use. but that’s when you get a feeling - a feeling that you were being watched. and when you glance up, you can see people looking at you, whispering things in hushed voices between themselves. you brushed it off as nothing and continued walking.
a couple of people pass by you, looking right at you as they pass a comment. “see i knew your father was a crooked man”, he tells and the others laugh as they walk away. what? you were completely confused and the fact that almost everyone was looking at you as you kept walking made you nervous all of a sudden. this wasn’t good. you spot your professor and he comes walking towards you, in big strides, like he is in a hurry. “hello yn”, he says, faking a smile. “hello professor”, you reply. “i would like to have a word with you, please follow me”. he says and you can still feel everyone’s eyes on you as you walk behind your professor.
he closes the door behind him and urges you to sit down as he takes a seat in front of you.
“i’m sorry to hear about your father yn”, he starts and you furrow your brows, utterly confused. “i would like for you to meet with the principal so we can hopefully come to an understanding about how you will be completing your semester over here”, he continues and you’re lost.
“i’m sorry but i don’t quite follow”, you say, and he just blinks back at you.
“do you not know? have you not seen the news?”, he asks, surprised.
“what news?”, you ask again and watch as he fetches out his phone, handing it to you. and there it was, the headline that made your jaw drop.
“mr. __ a certified criminal, took bribes and laundered money”.
what the fuck? your eyes quickly scan the article, reading the things your father was being accused of. there was no way he would do that, he wouldn't you thought. you look back up at your professor and hand the phone back to him, at a complete loss for words.
“i really had no idea about this”, you tell. “i think it would be better for you to go home today and then we can have a talk about this later this week along with the principal okay”, he says and you’re dismissed. you take a deep breath as you open the door and walk out, and hallway is quick to quiet down and you can feel the eyes of everyone on you.
“hope your father rots in jail”, you hear a guy say and the others laugh. you hear a few more snide remarks as you walk out back to your car and you take a deep breath again. what the fuck was happening right now. you start the car and drive to your father’s house because you need answers.
you storm into the house, and your father is already sitting down at the table with his lawyer. “can someone please explain what is going on”, you yell as soon as you see your father.
“yn” , your father says, upon seeing you.
“you took bribes??”, you ask and you can see the small flash of hurt on his face before he composes himself as he answers you. “no yn, this is simply not true. i am being falsely accused”, he says calmly.
“so what’s going to happen now?”, you ask.
“this is defamation, there is absolutely no evidence to these claims”, your father fills in.
a week passes by and you somehow manage to make it to class, but obviously, everyone is still talking about you. rumors are goingand around like wildfire and people keep telling you nasty things, leaving you mean comments on your social media. even the paparazzi around you are following you everywhere suddenly and you hate this. your whole world was turning upside down and you find yourself driving to your father’s house that evening again, only to see people crowded around the house. puzzled, you get out of your car and you're immediately surrounded by the paparazzi and a hound of people as they recognise you. you see your father in the crowd and that’s when you notice the police officers and then the handcuff on your father’s hands.
“father!”, you yell out and he looks at you. you try to move forward, make your way towards him but someone pushes you down before someone else grabs your hand. “you little thief, no wonder you’re so rich”, he mutters out and you try to pry his hand off you but he doesn’t let go. “yn!” you hear your father yell and soon the police pry the man off you. you watch as your father is escorted into the police vehicle he’s driven off.
the camera flashes continue and people keep yelling nasty things and you run towards your car, getting in and following the police car. at the police station, you get a chance to talk to your father with his lawyer present.
“what is happening?”, you ask. “i thought you said this was a false accusation, why are you being arrested?”, you ask, looking between your father and his lawyer, jeonghan who was a competent man in his line of business.
“it seems there has been some evidence found", your father says, in a rather relaxed manner.
“so what’s going to happen now?”, you ask, worried.
“i will have to stand trial and prove my innocence”, he adds. you see as he glances down at your wrist which you’re massaging gently.
“are you okay, i saw what happened back there’, he adds.
“y-yeah im okay”, you tell quickly.
“no, this is not okay. you’re going to be affected by all the things happening now and things are getting dangerous and out of hand”, he tells.
“i can manage”, you say.
“no, you cannot, things will only get worse from here, especially when the trial starts and they are all going to be taking their anger out on you. i cannot risk anything happening to you. so it’s decided”, your father says.
“what’s decided?”, you ask.
“you’ll be having a bodyguard with you 24/7 from now onwards”, your father adds.
“what? father there is no need-", you start before you're interrupted.
“yn listen to your father, he is right” jeonghan interjects and you sigh. there was no point arguing over here. in hindsight, things were bound to get out of control and having a bodyguard around did seem wise. the thought that something worse could happen to you makes you shiver.
“hire only the best”, my father tells and jeonghan nods. “i know just the person” he tells, assuring my father.
you didn’t step out of your house the next day. paparazzi surrounded your home and you were in no ability to go out without being followed. the pictures of your father’s arrest and your face were plastered all over the internet and new articles, with all sorts of headlines. by 12pm everyone seemed to have gotten tired of waiting (thank god) and your driveway was finally clear. you’re in jeans and a top, rummaging through your pantry when you hear your doorbell ring. you immediately stand straight. who could this be?
you walk towards your door and peek through the peephole but you can only see the body of someone and you hear a voice you recognise. your father’s lawyer - jeonghan, so you open the door.
“i didn’t know you were coming”, you tell and smile. “i texted you”, he adds. “must've missed it”, you add before glancing at the other man standing next to him, who you noticed was quite tall.
“please come in “, you add only for jeonghan to refuse. “no no, i must get going to prepare for your father’s case. i just came to introduce you to your bodyguard”, he explains.
“oh, i see”, you tell softly.
“he’ll be with you wherever you’re going. escort and protect you wherever you’re going. i’ve already briefed him and given him a copy of your schedules, but if you’re going anywhere, he is to accompany you”, he tells you, making sure you knew, like he knew you would try to sneak off.
“yes yes alright”, you tell, crossing your arms over your chest.
“well, get introduced then, i have to get going”, he tells, as his phone rings and he walks off, leaving you standing in front of the door with this mysterious man.
as you look at him, you realise how tall he was because wow, he was really tall, and really handsome. he towered over you easily as you looked up at him. he’s wearing a clean, crisp black suit, which has been tailored to his body, making the fit perfect, showing off his build and his hair was styled to expose his forehead. his foxy-like eyes hold a mysterious but focused gaze. damn, he was hot. your eyes sweep over his body one more time before he’s clearing his throat and you're shaken away from your thoughts.
“hello, im jeon wonwoo and i'll be your bodyguard from today”, he tells, his voice deep as he looks at you, his alluring gaze catching your attention.
“hi! i’m yn! nice to meet you”, you say a little too enthusiastically as you hold out your hand for a handshake. you’re already cringing at your actions but wonwoo reaches out and shakes your hand nonetheless and gives you a small nod.
after that there is a moment of awkward silence before you speak again. “um i don’t think i’ll be going anywhere today so you can start tomorrow”, you tell. you didn’t want him to be waiting around unnecessarily. he just looks down at you.
“i have been assigned to stay by your side at all times”, he tells. “but i’m just going to be home”, you tell. “it’s fine uh - i can call you wonwoo right?”, you ask and he gives you a curt yes.
“right wonwoo, it’s all right, just clock off work, it’s fine for today”, you tell and he looks like he’s thinking before he speaks again.
“if you insist”, is all he says before he gives you a small nod of acknowledgement, telling you he’ll be here tomorrow before he’s turning around and walking off.
the next morning, you’re sleeping peacefully when you hear your doorbell ring. who was at your doorstep so early? you must be hearing things you think. after a few moments you hear your doorbell ring again and you groan as you let out a yawn, unwillingly getting out of bed as you drag your feet to the door, your eyes barely open, still laced with sleep. you open the door to see a tall figure in front of you, your eyes still unfocused and you're confused before you hear the voice.
“good morning”, he tells and you blink your eyes a couple of times before you realise who it was.
“oh wonwoo hi”, you tell, trying to process this information. “it’s only uh-” “7am”, he fills in.
“right, 7am”, you tell, yawning again. “why are you here so early?”, you ask and your eyes a bit more awake now to take in the sight in front of you. wonwoo was adorned in another crisp suit, his hair perfectly styled and you could smell the waft of his cologne as you stood.
“my working hours start from 7am”, he tells matter of factly. “right, uh okay just come in”, you tell, moving inside, not bothering to see if he was following you. you go back to your room to fetch your phone, seeing an email from your professor. they wanted to have a meeting with the principal - well this couldn’t be good.
the entire time you’re getting ready, wonwoo is just standing in one corner of your hall. you told him he could sit but he insisted on standing so you just shrug your shoulders and let it go. you don’t have the time to eat breakfast and you lock your house door, about to get in the car when wonwoo speaks again.
“i’ll drive”, he tells, holding his hand out for the key.
“oh no, it’s fine i can manage”, you tell.
“i’ve been told to drive you wherever you need”, he adds, looking at you and he had the look of someone you did not want to interfere in his work with.
there was no point arguing with this man was there? you sigh, handing him the key and sitting in the front seat next to him because sitting in the complete back would make you feel weird. wonwoo somehow knew the route to your college and he parks the car effortlessly in the parking lot, which is honestly impressive. (or you just had bad parking skills shh)
you see the crowd as you step out, and through all the people and you can even spot a few paparazzi if you looked carefully. you glance back at wonwoo and then the campus entrance. if you went with wonwoo, you were definitely going to get attention - unwanted attention that is. he was obviously going to stand out in that outfit of his.
“just stay here, i’ll be back, it’ll be quick”, you say.
“i'm afraid i can’t do that, i’m assingned to accompany you wherever you go as your bodyguard”, he says, looking at you.
“i know, but i’ll be quick, nothing will happen”, you add as you unbuckle your seatbelt.
“i will be accompanying you”, he responds. even with all those looks he was really dense huh, it was like talking to a wall.
“fine god just come”, you finally tell, slightly annoyed. jeonghan really got you a tough bodyguard didn't he.
as soon as you step foot on campus, everyone’s head turns towards you and obviously everyone is whispering something about the man following behind you - wonwoo. you mentally curse as the crowd around you becomes larger as you walk, everyone stopping to see what was going on. wonwoo is quick to maintain an arm’s distance outside as he walks beside you and making sure people don't surround you. you try to look down as you just walk ahead, straight into the principal's office. wonwoo stands outside.
“yn glad you could make it”, your professor says, as the principal sits beside, just giving you a small nod.
“what did we need to talk about”, you ask, looking between your principal and professor.
you watch as your principal sits up straighter, interlocking his palms on the table before they speak.
“i know you just have a semester left before you graduate”, he starts off. “but given the current situation, it would be hard for us to continue classes with you being present”, he adds.
“i could do online classes”, you suggest but you principle just shakes his head.
“yn, we acknowledge the effort and dedication you have demonstrated throughout your academic journey at our institution. your accomplishments have been commendable, and we recognize the hard work you have put into your studies”, he starts. “we really do yn”, your professor adds.
“but we have to bring attention to a significant concern that has risen due to recent incidents involving you and a related controversy”, your principal continues.
oh god, where was this conversation going. you’re about to open your mouth to speak when your principle starts talking again.
“the college has carefully assessed the situation and after thorough consideration, it has been determined that unfortunately, you will be unable to graduate at this time. this decision is a result of the impact of the controversy on the overall reputation and values of the institution”, he finishes and it takes you two seconds to fully understand the situation and what was exactly going on right now.
“what?”, you let out, shocked. “we know this might be sudden but we are-”,
“no no, this is not fair, you can’t do this”, you interject.
“it is fair, considering the reputation of our institution is on the line”, he adds.
“excuse me?”, you scoff. “i'm in no way related to what is going on right now”, you add.
“it is involving your father”, he says. “exactly, my father, not me. so i do not see why you would have to go to this extreme”, you tell, not letting this go lightly.
“yn”, your professor says in a warning tone.
“four years. four years of my life i’ve spent studying and working hard and you’re just gonna throw that all away and not let me graduate over a controversy? over something that is not true let me tell you that”, you tell, upset. “that’s not right and not fair”, you add. “letting me graduate is the least you can do, it’s only a semester come on”, you plead.
“the decision is final”, your principal tells.
“what no, you can let me take the semester later, i can still graduate then”, you suggest, trying to be hopeful but the air in the room was tense.
“yn thank you for your time and we wish you all the luck in your future”, you principal tells, completely dismissing you.
“you can’t do this, you’ll be hearing from me remember that”, you tell, standing up and pulling the door open, walking out. the hallways are thankfully relatively empty because it’s class hours and everyone was in the lecture halls or study rooms. but as you turn you bump into jaehyun.
“jaehyun hi!”, you tell as you approach him. “i'm so sorry i haven’t been able to text you, i’ve been so occupied”, you tell as jaehyun barely looks at you as you speak, checking his phone, texting someone else.
“i’m free this week though so i thought we could go out to dinner or something”, you suggest, hoping that maybe a date would help you get your mind off things.
“yeah i’m not sure about that”, he tells. “oh are you busy? we can-”
“listen yn, considering everything going on right now, i wouldn’t want to be seen with you”, he tells and you’re hurt by his words.
“but i don’t see how that matters if you like me”, you tell, trying to hold it together.
jaehyun only lets out a small laugh. “like you? i only dated you because you were rich, was a nice thing to boast about until your dad had to be revealed as a thief”, he tells, mocking you and his words sting.
“that’s not true”, you tell. “i hope he rots in jail”, he adds, before leaving, having completely trampled over your heart and feelings.
you’ve completely forgotten about wonwoo and it’s only when you turn around that you see him, a few paces behind you and no doubt he heard everything, just great. you bite the inside of your cheek as you look down, walking ahead and walking straight to the car, embarrassed but also upset. you get in the car, not bothering for wonwoo to open the door for you and sit inside, tears welling in your eyes. wonwoo stands outside like he’s unsure, giving you a moment of privacy before you’re rolling down the window and telling him to drive you home.
the car ride is quiet and you’re just looking out the window the entire time, trying not to cry. it wasn't fair. any of this wasn’t fair. you just wanted to curl up and hide right now. you can feel your stomach rumbling, protesting for not being given breakfast and you sigh, putting a hand on your stomach. now that you were aware, you were actually really hungry. you had half the mind to stop somewhere and buy something but you didn’t want to deal with people right now.
“did you eat breakfast?”, you ask wonwoo, feeling suffocated with the silence in the car.
“not exactly, but i did eat something”, he informs. you nod your head, thinking of what else to ask him.
“so how come you chose this bodyguard business”, you ask, glancing over at wonwoo.
“it suits me, i’m good at it”, he replies, giving you a short answer.
“right, i see”.
a few more seconds of silence follows before wonwoo speaks. “are you okay?”, he asks, his eyes still trained on the road ahead of him. his question takes you aback. it had been ages since someone asked you that. are you okay? those three words that had the capability of making you rethink your life and look into yourself. were you okay? no, not really. life sucked right now and you wanted nothing more than to just curl up in bed and cry.
“i-i don’t know”, you answer, letting out a sigh as your fingers play with your mother's ring on your hand, something you did when you were anxious or lost in thought.
“i’m used to it, it’s fine”, you add quickly.
after a few more minutes, wonwoo is pulling up into your driveway and he parks the car, getting out. you don’t know how this man managed to walk so fast because just as you’re about to turn your body to open the door, wonwoo is already there, holding the car door open for you.
“oh um thank you”, you tell softly as you get out.
you realized it was going to take you a while to break into wonwoo’s wall and befriend him. it looked like he was going to be with you for a while, until the trial was over atleast so might as well become friends. he did prove to be a hell though, it was like talking to a robot, but who said you weren’t up for the challenge?
it’s a new week and wonwoo is driving you to the cat shelter since it’s your day to volunteer today. atleast during all these sudden changes in your life, this was a constant. it felt comforting in a way. the animal shelter was run by a sweet lady who also adored you. coming here always made you feel better, no matter how shitty your day had been.
you enter the shelter and immediately all the cats recognise your scent and meow, as if they were welcoming you. the owner comes out to see what the commotion was about and smiles upon seeing you.
“yn! it’s so nice to see you”, she greets, pulling you in for a hug.
“it’s good to be back”, you tell.
“who’s this mystery man”, she asks, referring to wonwoo.
“my bodyguard. with everything happening and the trial and all, things are getting out of hand ”, you explain and she nods. “quite the catch isn’t he”, she says, teasing you and you chuckle.
“i'm so sorry to hear about all this though, just know i’m here for you”, she tells.
“thank you”, you tell, grateful.
“well you carry on, i just need to finish writing these invoices and i’ll join you”, she adds, walking back to the office room and you’re left alone with all the cats.
“hello fluffy”, you tell, looking down to the cat who’s brushing against your legs,
wonwoo stands at the side of the room like he’s been punished even though you again insist that he can sit down but he insists on standing. you sigh, whatever suited him. you turn your attention back to the cats surrounding you and start your duties.
you had to clean their litter, feed them and make sure the ones who were on medication were given the medicine. after you’re done cleaning the litter, you realise you need to open a new bag of litter, the only problem? it was 15kgs heavy and in no way were you capable of lifting that huge bag to the litterbox area. you go back to the front and wonwoo is still standing, his hands neatly folded in front of him as he just stares at the wall. he really needs to relax you thought. you walk up to him, hands on your hip.
“i need your help, come here”, you ask and you hear the shuffle of wonwoo’s feet behind you as you walk.
“can you help me lift this?”, you ask, holding one end of the bag. wonwoo doesn’t say a word as he holds the bag and lifts it himself effortlessly and carries it to where you want it. damn, he was strong.
you fill up the box with new litter, washing your hands and come back to the front.
“i have a surprise for you”, you hear the owner say and she walks towards one of the boxes covered by a cloth. she uncovers it and a second later you hear a high pitched meow, followed by another and another.
“oh my god”, you squeal. “poe littered! i completely forgot she was due”, you tell, looking as she brings the box down and the kittens overflow out of the box in a frenzy, climbing out of the box and making their way towards you with their wobbly but determined feet. you bend down to see them and they’re adorable. you watch as the battalion of kittens make their way to wonwoo, climbing on his shoes and meowing up at him, ambushing him practically.
you giggle as one cheeky kitten even climbs up wonwoo’s suit and all the way to his shoulder, sitting there perched while wonwoo just stands there, completely ignoring the fact that he was being attacked by vicious kittens right now.
“you should adopt that one, it likes you”, you tell as you hold a kitten in your hands, referring to the one sitting perched on his shoulder.
“i already have a cat at home”, he tells and this piece of information makes you raise your brows in surprise.
“really? you have a cat”, you ask in surprise. “i do”, he answers quietly.
“oh my god, show me a picture”, you ask.
wonwoo only blinks at you. “i refrain from using my phone during work hours”, he tells smoothly and you roll your eyes.
“come on wonwoo, don’t be like that. it’s fine, just show me”, you ask again. “please?”, you add and wonwoo looks at you for a few more seconds before he’s moving his hand to remove his phone from his jacket pocket. the kitten on his shoulder makes a move, almost about to fall but wonwoo is quick to catch it and it’s now sitting in the palm of his hand, as he operates his phone with the other hand. he turns his phone towards you, revealing the picture of his cat.
“her name is oreo”, he tells.
“aww she’s so pretty and so cute!!”, you exclaim. wonwoo’s cat was gorgeous actually. she was a black cat with white paws, white whiskers and a patch of white on her neck and chest.
“she’s a rescue too”, he adds, and that little piece of information lifts your heart.
“that’s nice. her little white paws are adorable oh my gosh”, you tell as you smile up at wonwoo. “they’re like little socks”, you say, chuckling at yourself as you hand his phone back to him. you notice how the kitten in his hand was busy chewing the end of his tie. if you looked carefully, you could see the faintest hint of a smile on his lips right now as he watched the kitten playing in his hands. how cute.
wonwoo drives you back home after you finish all your duties at the shelter and you get a text from jeonghan about your father’s trial. the first trial was set for next week.
you're just at home and you’re certainly not used to the intrusion to your sleep at 7am every day now when wonwoo comes to work to start his duties. you told him to stay at home and you’d call him if you needed him but no, he didn’t listen. so here he was at 7am on the dot everyday at your doorstep. you yawn as you open the door, mumbling something to wonwoo about changing his work timings to 9am instead.
you’re brushing your teeth, walking around the room and you can see wonwoo standing as usual. you wash your face and head towards the kitchen. you needed coffee now. you glance towards wonwoo occasionally because honestly, even if he was just standing there, he looked so….effortlessly handsome. oh my god. you should not be having these thoughts right now. it was too early for this. you really needed some coffee to get your head straight.
“do you want some coffee?”, you ask wonwoo as you look at him.
“i’m good, thank you”, he says. of course he was going to say that.
“how do you like your coffee?”, you prod him again.
“black”, he says.
and of course he likes his coffee black.
“well, i like a latte, ice or hot depending on my mood, sometimes with caramel sauce if i’m feeling fancy but otherwise mostly plain”, you tell, dumping this piece of information onto wonwoo as you struggle to open your coffee powder jar. you try again but it wasn’t budging. you try again this time, trying to concentrate all your strength onto your hand, but it didn’t work and it wasn’t opening. without a word, wonwoo comes forward and offers to open it. he takes the jar from your hands and opens it effortlessly in one shot, probably because of his super strength. you mumble out a thank you and instead of letting him go back to that sad corner beside the wall, you ask him to take a seat in front.
“wonwoo, you should know that you standing there at the side of the room like you’ve been punished is just extremely weird. please sit, i’m not gonna kill you, seriously, i’m a nice person”, you explain, your hand pointing to the stool that was on the left of him. “i would prefer-”, he starts. “no, i would prefer if you just sat please. you’re supposed to listen to whatever i say right”, you tell, looking at him with your hands crossed over your chest.
he doesn’t say anything but finally takes a seat and you do a little celebration inside your head. “see! that’s so much better”, you tell, already feeling at ease.
you continue making your coffee and you’re halfway through making your coffee when you hear your doorbell ring. you glance at wonwoo before putting your mug down. but wonwoo gets up, telling you he’ll check who it was.
“who are you?”, you hear wonwoo ask as he opens the door and you walk up to the door, curious. “who is it?”, you ask and when the person comes into view, you let out an excited squeal.
“RANIAA”, you exclaim, accidentally pushing wonwoo to the side as you pull rania inside, only to see skye behind them. “OH MY GOD”, you exclaim again, pulling rania into a hug and then skye. meanwhile wonwoo just stands in the corner of the cramped doorstep, regaining his balance from your not so subtle shove.
“what are you guys doing here”, you ask, once all the excitement has toned down and both rania and skye are seated on the couch.
“we’ve been seeing the news and everything that’s been happening”, skye says.
“so we came to support you, it must be so hard right now”, rania adds.
“aw you guys are really the best”, you tell. it had been years since you last saw them, both of them having moved to different countries. though you guys were separated by distance, you were still connected by your unhinged and chaotic group chat.
“by the way, who’s the handsome hunk over there”, rania asks, not so subtly.
“rania jeez, he’s my bodyguard calm down”, you tell but you don’t miss the glint in their eyes.
“is he single”, rania asks and you glare at them.
“stop it”, you tell and skye chuckles beside you.
“wait, weren’t you dating jaehyun?”, skye adds and your face falls. “yeah about that, he uh dumped me”, you tell and skye is quick to pull you in a reassuring embrace.
“this is your sign to date that guy, shoot your shot before it’s too late bestie”, rania encourages, making you laugh.
“enough about me, how are you guys? how’s seungkwan and soonyoung”, you ask, eager to know more about them. you watch as rania and skye exchange a glance between themselves before looking at you.
“they’re coming here tomorrow”, they tell in unison and you almost yell. “really?”, you ask, shocked but also excited.
“they wanted to see you too so we dragged them along with us, but there was a goof up with the plane tickets and they had to rebook on a different flight”, skye explains.
“it’s okay, we can all go out together tomorrow”, you tell and they smile.
rania and skye end up going back at the end of the day and poor wonwoo had to witness you three maybe talk a little too much. you were sure he was glad when he clocked off work, beyond relieved he didn’t have to hear you all chatter anymore. even though you told him he could leave early, that you were going to just be home, he again didn't listen to you, saying that he would stay, saying something about upholding his duty. rania bombarded him with too many questions and you were sure he was going to get more from seungkwan and soonyoung tomorrow, poor guy.
the next day you’re excited to see your besties again and wonwoo is yet again standing near the wall like he’s a statue. you’ve given up at this point really. before they arrived, you briefed wonwoo on being nice to them, especially to seungkwan and soonyoung, who were probably going to hound him with questions again today. “don’t be mean to them if they ask you questions”, you tell, pointing a finger at wonwoo. “be nice to them okay?”, you tell, adding a little glare to make sure your point went across.
you wear a simple yet cute outfit and before you know it, your house is filled with laughter and smiles as soonyoung and seungkwan greet you.
“oh my god, it’s so nice to see you guys!”, you tell, excited as soonyoung and seungkwan smile back at you. “same here yn”, they tell.
“we planned a little double date”, skye tells. “make it a triple date, you can ask wonwoo to join”, rania adds, winking at you and you roll your eyes at her.
“who is what”, seungkwan asks, finally noticing the other presence in the room.
“my bodyguard. given the current situation my father thought it would be best”, you explain.
“woah he looks strong”, soonyoung adds and before you know it, both the boys make their way to wonwoo while you girls decide on where to go for your little double or well triple date.
“hello”, soonyoung says to wonwoo. wonwoo only responds with a small nod of his head, standing still.
“how long have you been a bodyguard for?”, seungkwan asks.
wonwoo glances at seungkwan, looks him up and down before answering. “four years”, wonwoo tells.
“woah! so how’d you become one? is there like a special training school for this?”, soonyoung asks, completely serious and utterly curious.
“it’s a sub branch in the security industry”, is all wonwoo answers with.
“can i ask you a question”, seungkwan asks, bringing his hand around wonwoo’s shoulder which wonwoo shrugs off in a second.
“what do you think of yn?”, seungkwan adds, acting like he wasn’t just shrugged off by wonwoo.
“yn is my client”, wonwoo says, like he’s stating a fact.
“i know she’s your client dude but what do you think of her, you know?”, seungkwan adds, trying to knock some sense into wonwoo, who clearly didn’t have any romantic braincell.
“you should take her out on a date, cheer her up. i'm sure she feels bad about everything happening with her father and all”, seungkwan explains nicely.
“yeah!”, soonyoung adds. we’re going on a double date anyway, you can join us and it’ll become a triple date”, soonyoung adds with enthusiasm.
wonwoo just stares at these two boys like they’re idiots before answering. “that’s not in my job description”, he tells.
seungkwan visibly gets annoyed. “man, you’re really dense you know”, he adds. “it’s gonna hurt your romantic life in the long run buddy”, seungkwan adds with a look.
wonwoo doesn’t say anything and that was the last straw for seungkwan and he grabs soonyoung’s arm, both of them making their way to the couch where you were busy chatting.
“okay, so we’re getting sushi”, rania announces and everyone cheers. you guys headed to the sushi place, wonwoo, you, rania and skye in one car and seungkwan and soonyoung following behind in the car they rented. you reach the sushi place and you guys sit inside. it seemed like today was your lucky day because you didn’t see any paps around or didn’t anyone seem to recognise you. you all took a seat while wonwoo told you that he’d wait by the car. you asked him (while rania almost yelled at him to join us) but he was stern about staying by the car. you let him be because you didn’t want to inconvenience him at the end of the day. you weren’t going to cross his boundaries if he didn’t want to. you finish your sushi date and come home happy and satisfied.
later that week, you get to meet with jeonghan, your father’s lawyer, to see how things are going regarding your father’s trial.
“so mr. jeon has been telling me you haven’t been going to college? i know things have been bad but missing classes in your last semester is not the thing to be doing”, jeonghan tells.
“he’s reporting to you now is he?”, you ask, your brow raised. “well i did hire him”, he adds.
“i’m not missing classes on purpose…it’s just that”, you start sighing. “they told me i can’t graduate because of everything happening and father’s controversy. something about damaging the institution’s reputation”, you tell and jeonghan sits up straighter.
“why didn’t you tell me anything before?”, jeonghan asks.
“i was going to! but then it just slipped my mind, and i know you’ve been busy too”, you add, hoping to redeem yourself.
jeonghan gives you a knowing look. “yn this is no small matter, i will look into this and make sure you can graduate. this is a ridiculous thing to do”, he tells and you nod in approval. “thanks” , you tell and he nods.
“how are you finding your bodyguard?”, jeonghan asks and you already sigh.
“he’s so…i don’t know, he’s so good at what he does but also kinda intimidating. he barely speaks it feels like i’m talking to a wall half the time”, you tell, chuckling. “but he’s cute”, you add, that tiny detail making jeonghan laugh.
“i think it’ll take some time to befriend him but i’m on it”, you add and jeonghan gives you a look. “just don’t get too close”, he adds with a warning.
you were at the library today, you needed an escape and books seemed like the perfect solace right now. you’re wearing a simple outfit, black jeans with a purple top and a jacket on top because somehow even though the sun was up, the air was chilly and windy. you’re busy arranging the books that have been borrowed back in their rightful places, already knowing which book and genre goes where. wonwoo follows you around silently while you’re aimlessly talking to him about each book you pick up and put back on the shelf, offering him information about it - if you had read it, if it was on your TBR, if it was good, bad or worth a read. wonwoo seemed to be listening to you keenly. you grab the next book, and start telling wonwoo about it.
“i read this book years ago and i still love it to this date, the characters were so funny. but if i’m being honest the guy in this book was kinda an ass”, you add, as you locate the book’s spot on the shelf that was all the way at the top. you went on your tiptoes to reach it, trying to place it but missed. “and now that i’m older, the girl in the book was also a bit stupid you know, like-” you continue, but you feel wonwoo come up behind you and see his hand reach out, taking the book from your outstretched arm and placing in on the shelf with ease. you turn around, looking up at wonwoo, who is now so close to you.
“why do you think the character was stupid?”, he asks, looking at you curiously. you blink up at him before answering, your mind suddenly distracted as you try to form a coherent sentence. “you know like-it was young love and-uh and they did-some stupid things-that um-i only realised when i got older-”, you stutter out, a flustered mess as you continue to look up at wonwoo. he looked so pretty up close and you could smell his cologne, which only made you want to lean into his presence. you feel your cheeks heat up as you look at him, starting to get lost in his eyes, his gaze. the way he looked at you like nothing else mattered to him apart from you made your heart race. you could feel your heart thumping loudly against your chest as you opened your mouth to speak again but closed it as no words came out. you step to the side, trying to create some distance between wonwoo, but you end up tripping on the stool that was placed there, almost falling, but wonwoo is quick to catch you, his arms catching your waist as he pulls your body against his.
“watch where you step”, wonwoo says as he holds you, and you’re acutely aware of how his hands feel on your body, the way he holds you, strong but gentle. and the way he’s looking at you makes your mind seem to go blank and the faint feeling of butterflies erupts in your stomach. “t-thanks”, you quickly say before you straighten out and stand on your own. you quickly grab a book from the cart and turn around, trying to calm your over-excited heart as you pretend to walk ahead before wonwoo calls out for you.
“isn’t the historical section that way?”, he asks and you look at the book in your hand. it was a historical book indeed. you huff out a breath and turn around, speed walking past wonwoo as you find the shelf and put the book back in place as you mutter to yourself about why wonwoo had to be so attentive, observant and stupidly attractive.
today is your father’s first trial and you were nervous,. even though jeonghan told you that you didn’t have to come, you wanted to. you knew your father needed your support right now, regardless of how rocky your relationship has been with him. so here you were in the car, nervous, while wonwoo was well, calm. but it was nice, having a calm energy near you, it sort of grounded you.
you turn the corner to the court and god, it was crowded. people had surrounded the road and courthouse, media and paparazzi waiting to snap photos and cover the event. you realised how serious this was and what it would mean if your father was found guilty, shit.
you observed the crowd, ducking down in your seat a little, already feeling overwhelmed. you hated crowds, especially crowds like this. you knew it wasn’t the good type of crowd and the sense of dread was already pooling in your stomach. maybe you should just turn the car around and go home. your hand is anxiously playing with the ring on your finger and as the car pulls up to the entrance to the courthouse, you can hear the screams and yells of people and see the flashes of light go off as the media take photos.
you gulp, anxious and the car comes to a halt. wonwoo swiftly gets down and he is quick to open your side of the car. it takes you a second to get out and the minute you get out, people surround you even more. If it wasn’t for the police barricade and wonwoo beside you, you were sure you’d have been trampled.
wonwoo is swift as he guides you inside, making sure no one touches you. he envelopes his other hand around your shoulder, but doesn’t touch you, having a gentleman’s hand while he guides you and you’re relieved once you step inside the building and the yells of people die down. you enter the trial room and take a seat. you spot your father and jeonghan and give them a small smile. your father - well he looked tired. you were just hoping jeonghan could get him through this because you don’t know what you were going to do otherwise.
the prosecution was really piling up all sorts of accusations against your father, but jeonghan was well prepared and defended whatever was coming up. firstly, according to what jeonghan had mentioned, there was no evidence or even if there was it could have been tampered with. the anonymous said person who was said to have tipped off the police with the evidence could not be trusted. jeonghan insisted that this person testify in court and that this anonymous person should be brought in for questioning.
by the time the first trial is done, it’s already been four hours. the next trial would be held in a few days where witnesses will be brought forward to testify. but from the hush talks in the room after the court was adjourned, you could tell no one was really on your father's side. your father’s company stocks had dropped, brand deals were pulling out and things were obviously not in your father’s favour at all. you were going to try everything in your power to bring your father’s company back up again and prove to everyone that he was indeed innocent. because there’s no way he would have done those things, right?
as you manage to locate jeonghan, who sits down with you for a bit, he tells you about a message from your father.
“you know the annual business charity club ball that your father attends every year right”, jeonghan says. “yeah”, you tell.
“well, obviously since you father cannot go this year, he’s asked you to go in his place”, jeonghan finishes and you give him a look.
“me? you know i hate that event”, you tell.
“but it’s been planned and it cannot be cancelled, not even in this situation. so, you’re going and it’s final. i will text you the location and date later. but please go, atleast for your father’s sake. he’s losing a lot of people right now so if you could try to restore people’s faith and trust in you and your father, it would be helpful”, jeonghan tells.
“fine, i guess that’s the least i can do”, you tell as you look at jeonghan. “is he okay? he’ll be okay right?”, you ask and jeonghan nods. “he should be, i’m doing everything in my power to defend him”, jeonghan answers.
you exit the meeting room with jeonghan and he takes off, saying he has to arrange some documents for the next trial. you weren’t able to meet your father because they didn’t allow you to right now which was a stupid rule. you walk out and you’re looking around for wonwoo but don't see him. and in your search for him, you make the mistake of walking towards the entrance, where the media people were. they spot you and in a second you’re surrounded, with people shoving cameras and mics in your face, bombarding you with questions, all talking over each other as you panic. you try to move but they follow you and soon, you’re being pushed outside and the people outside start yelling when they see you. someone shoves you and you lose your balance, almost falling as someone else grabs your left hand. you yelp out in pain as they yank your hand and just then you feel a figure come up behind you - wonwoo. his hand embraces your shoulder this time, as he holds out another hand to block people. you can feel the hand holding yours let go as wonwoo pries it off you and he pushes people back and people actually do move back because wonwoo meant business. he guides you to the car and you sit, finally away from the crowd. it’s only when you see wonwoo up front at the drivers seat that you realise you were sitting in the passenger seat behind. you didn’t mind though. wonwoo is swift to take a seat and you can feel him look at you through the rearview mirror. he doesn’t say anything, but starts the car and drives.
by the time you get back home, it’s late, already hitting 10:30pm. it’s only when you are inside does wonwoo finally speak.
“it’s dangerous for you to go out alone”, he says, standing in front of you as you put you bag onto the countertop.
“i was looking for you but i couldn’t find you, i didn’t mean to wander off alone like that”, you try to explain. “it was all too sudden, i really didn’t know what to do”, you add.
“just wait for me next time”, he asks,
“but where were you?”, you counter.
“i was at the east wing door, waiting for you to finish talking but when i looked inside, you weren’t there.
“oh, i think i exited from the door on the other side, that’s why”, you tell.
"if you don’t see me, call me next time, please”, he says and you nod in understanding.
wonwoo’s eyes glance down to your hand, the slightest marks of a bruise visible. “is your hand okay?”, he asks, taking a step forward to examine it further. “yeah, it’s fine, it’s-”, you stop as you look at your hand, only to see it bare. your ring, it wasn’t there. you look down on the floor, thinking it must've fallen there but it’s not. your other hand caresses your empty hand where the ring used to be, hoping that it wasn’t really missing but you don’t feel it. you don’t feel the ring. you feel the panic start to set in as you realise what’s just happened. fuck. then it hits you, the courtroom. it must've been pulled off when your hand was grabbed. you had to go back there, you had to look for it.
“we have to go back”, you tell wonwoo, as you step forward, but wonwoo is quick to stop you.
“yn, it’s late”, he tells sternly.
“no you don’t understand, i lost my ring, it must’ve fallen there, i need to find it”, you tell frantically and wonwoo doesn’t understand why you’ve become so worked up over a ring.
“it’s just a ring yn, you can get another one”, he tells and you snap your head up at him, visibly upset. just a ring?
“it’s not just a ring wonwoo”, you tell, tears prickling in your eyes. “you wouldn’t understand, fuck, i have to-i have to find it”, you tell again but wonwoo’s hand is firm as he holds you back again.
“yn”, he says. “no we need to go now”, you yell, pulling your arm loose from his grip “i’ll go myself”, you counter, trying to reach for the car keys on the counter but wonwoo pulls your hand away.
“yn we’ll go later alright”, he tells. “no no no we need to go now”, you yell again, a tear escaping your eyes, rolling down your cheeks slowly. your vision gets blurry and you move back, panic setting in. fuck how could you lose your mothers precious ring.
“no no no, this can’t be happening”, you mumble. you try to feel for your ring again, hoping that it was all just a misunderstanding, but your finger was empty. you don’t hear wonwoo calling out to you as you ears start ringing and your eyes fill with tears again. “i’m such an idiot how could i lose it”, you tell yourself, beating yourself up over the incident.
wonwoo realised you were having a panic attack, and he also realised that what he said could have been triggering. “yn”, says, coming towards you and you feel the weight of his hands on your shoulders as he looks down at you and you look up at him, a few more tears rolling down your cheeks. “we’ll find your ring okay”, he says, his voice somehow grounding you back to reality. “i promise we’ll go back to find it, but not right now.”, he adds. another tear rolls down your cheek as you sniffle, looking up at wonwoo, feeling helpless. “we’ll find it right”, you ask, your voice barely a whisper. “we will”, he assures.
wonwoo guides you to the couch and is quick to fetch you a glass of water. surprisingly, he takes a seat next to you, pushing the glass of water to you. you see him reach for something in his jacket pocket and then he reaches his hand out, offering it to you, his handkerchief. you gladly take the handkerchief and dab your cheeks dry, wiping your tears and sniffling as you try to calm down. wonwoo watches as you raise the glass to your lips and take a sip of water. there is silence between you both, unsure of what to say. you close your eyes for a few seconds, trying to gather yourself and your thoughts.
“i’m sorry”, you mumble out, feeling bad at lashing out at wonwoo and maybe a little embarrassed about crying in front of him. you hated people seeing you cry.
“i should be sorry, it was insensitive of me to say that”, he says, as he watches you take another sip of water. you put the glass down, looking at your finger where your ring adorned it.
“it was my mother’s ring”, you tell quietly after a few moments of silence. “after she passed away, it was the only token i had to remember her by”, you tell softly, lifting you head up to see wonwoo’s gaze soften as he looks at you. “it’s the only thing i have left of her”, you say, feeling yourself tear up again as you shift your gaze back down to your lap. you look back up at wonwoo and there’s something different about him, a softness in his gaze, his expression and language. “i’m sorry to hear about your mother”, he tells. you offer him a small smile. “it’s okay, i’ve come to terms with it, besides i was really young when it happened”, you add.
you glance at the clock on the wall, seeing the time and releasing that it was late, that it was past wonwoo’s working hours. “oh”, you say softly as your eyes glance at wonwoo and back to the clock. “i’m sorry if i held you back”, you say, referring to the time. wonwoo quickly checks the time on the wristwatch adorning his hand before he looks back up at you.
“i can stay, if you want me to”, he adds. “are you sure?”, you ask, unsure. he nods. “just another hour then”, you ask and he gives you a yes. deep down you were glad he was staying back. you didn’t think you could handle being alone right now, especially after what happened.
there are a few more seconds of silence before wonwoo speaks, suggesting that you should eat dinner perhaps, considering you hadn’t really had a proper lunch either, being too anxious about your father’s trial.
“i need a burger”, you tell after a few minutes of silence. “do you want me to place a delivery order for you?”, wonwoo asks. you shake your head. “no they don’t deliver, we’ll have to go there”, you tell and wonwoo looks unsure for a second. “it’s closeby, i’ll show you the way”, you tell, already standing up.
you both get in the car and you show wonwoo the directions as he drives. you come by the place and park and you’re about to get out when wonwoo stops you.
“wait, let me surf the area, see if anyone is there”, wonwoo tells, opening his door and stepping out. by anyone he meant the paparazzi of course. he walks ahead a bit, his eyes searching the area for anyone suspicious and that’s when you spot a girl sitting by the bench on the side looking at wonwoo. you knew what that look meant. wonwoo comes up by your window and you lower the glass, peeking out. you glance at the girl and then wonwoo, a laugh escaping your lips at your thoughts.
“what’s wrong?”, wonwoo asks, alert.
“that girl over there is totally checking you out”, you tell and wonwoo seems unfazed by this piece of information.
“i see three paparazzi, seems like they followed us. i suggest that you stay in the car and let me get you a takeaway”, wonwoo tells.
“that girl is totally going to ask for your number”, you add and wonwoo blinks at you.
“she won’t”, he tells, dismissing your claims.
“she totally will”, you counter and he raises a brow at you.
“wanna make a bet”, you ask. “if you lose you have to buy me ice cream”, you tell.
“what do you want me to get for you”, wonwoo asks, resting his hand on the car window.
“get me the grilled burger with fries and extra sauce”, you tell, handing wonwoo your card. wonwoo takes it as you tell him not to forget the extra sauce, adding that he should get something for himself too.
after about ten minutes, wonwoo comes into sight and just as you predicted, the girl sitting on the bench stands up and engages in a conversation with wonwoo. however, it’s short lived and wonwoo is making his way towards your car and the dejected look on the girl’s face tells you everything you need to know. wonwoo gets in the driver’s seat with the bag of food, which smelled divine, tingling your senses already.
“she asked for you number didn’t she”, you tell, teasing him a little.
“she did not”, wonwoo tells and you fake gasp.
“she totally did, i read her lips”, you state and wonwoo shakes his head and gives in, amused.
“you owe me ice cream”, you state proudly, grinning at wonwoo.
“on what occasion?”, he asks.
“because you lost the bet”, you state.
“i remember making no such deal”, he tells, like he’s teasing you, as he hands you back your card.
“whatever, just know i’ll extort this ice cream out of you one day”, you tell as you reach for the bag food.
you eat your burger in joy, proud that wonwoo in fact did not forget the extra sauce.
“did you not get anything?”, you ask, as you chew, looking at wonwoo.
“i will eat something at home, thank you for the concern”, he says. “don’t be like that!”, you tell, offering him a fry but he politely declines that too.
after you’ve devoured your burger and fries, you sigh content. “that was a good meal”, you tell, satisfied. “if only i could get a desert now”, you tell, implying to wonwoo.
“but i guess we should go, an hour is going to be up”, you tell. wonwoo steps out of the car and you’re about to ask him what he’s doing when he walks over to your side and opens the door for you.
“did you not want your ice cream?”, he asks and you look around before wonwoo tells you that the paps left. you smile and step out, happily walking up to the ice cream parlour that was right next to the burger joint. another hidden gem that served the best ice cream and sundaes.
you walk inside and sit in the corner booth all the way at the end. it gave you some privacy and was cozy. you don’t even glance at the menu before you’re telling wonwoo what you want. “a chocolate brownie fudge delight please”, you tell, grinning up at wonwoo who’s looking at you confused as he glances at the menu on the table, his eyes searching for the item you’ve just named.
“but that has two scoops of vanilla and two scoops of chocolate ice cream”, he tells. you only look at him, confused. “and a whole brownie with chocolate sauce and nuts”, he adds, like he’s questioning you.
“so?”, you ask.
“are you going to eat the whole thing?”, he asks and you scoff.
“do not underestimate my ice cream eating abilities wonwoo”, you tell offended and just then the waitress comes, taking your order.
your sundae comes and you’re already smiling but when you take that first bite, it’s heaven and you sigh again, content with life right now. wonwoo looks at you like he’s still unsure that you can finish it.
“do you want a bite? it’s really good”, you ask, pushing the bowl towards him. he politely declines again and you give him a look.
“you know, you should live life more, because you only live once”, you tell, as you put another spoonful of ice cream in your mouth. “i mean of course if you’re allergic to nuts or lactose intolerant then that’s a totally different story, but otherwise if someone tells me that they don’t eat or don’t like ice cream, i wouldn’t trust them you know. because how can you not like ice cream? it’s like one of the best things to have been created. if you don’t like ice cream then there’s a serious problem”, you ramble on to wonwoo, who’s sitting opposite you, listening to you keenly.
“also you should really talk more, i feel like i’m talking to myself half the time because you never say anything or you're always finishing your sentences in two or five words”, you tell, oblivious to the fact there was chocolate sauce on the side of your lip. “we need to come to some sort of understanding because-”, you stop mid sentence as wonwoo’s hand reaches out to wipe the corner of your mouth gently. you stare at him for a couple of seconds before the weight of his actions hits you and you start coughing, flustered. wonwoo is quick to pour you a glass of water and offer it to you.
“are you okay?, he asks, looking worried and you nod. “y-yeah”, you respond, suddenly feeling shy. you eat another spoonful of the ice cream, looking down at the bowl as you chew, feeling your cheeks heat up and you glance back up at wonwoo, whose eyes are still trained on you, and he’s looking at you deeply like he’s trying to decipher what’s going on in your mind. the way he looked at you, god, it made you feel things.
“we’ll find my ring right”, you ask again as you take the last bite of your sundae.
“i assure you that i will try my best to find it”, he replies. silence engulfs you both again.
“thank you for today”, you tell. “it was a nice distraction or change from the situation”, you tell, feeling grateful. you check the time on your phone and let out a small gasp at the time.
“oops, i guess i kept you for two hours instead of one”, you tell. “that’s not an issue”, he says. “if you ever need me, i’m always here”, he adds and somehow the way he says it feels soft, like this was his way of initiating friendship, telling you that he was indeed human and there was a sincerity in the way he said it.
“thank you”, you say, giving him a genuine smile. wonwoo drops you off at home and then leaves, bidding you goodnight. you lay in bed, replaying the events of today in your head, thinking about wonwoo. even if he perhaps looked a bit cold and indifferent, he was actually really sweet, quiet, soft and gentle. you feel a blush creep up your cheeks as you think about what he did earlier and you turn over, burying your face into the pillow, letting out an annoyed groan as you kick your feet in the air.
you don’t sleep well that night, your mind wandering to your mother’s ring and all your thoughts filled with finding it. you would find it right? you wake up at an ungodly hour and still restless before falling asleep in the early hours of the morning. when you wake up, you sleepily walk out and see a cup of takeaway coffee from your favourite cafe waiting for you. you glance at wonwoo and then at the cup of coffee.
“i thought you might want some coffee”, he fills in. “oh god i did need some coffee, thank you wonwoo”, you tell, taking a sip, grateful for his sweet gesture.
“when can we go find my ring? i really have to find it, i’ll never forgive myself otherwise”, you say, putting the coffee back on the counter as you go on a sleepy rant when wonwoo steps forward and holds out his hand. he opens it and lo and behold, your ring is there. your jaw drops and you look up at wonwoo.
“no way. you found it, you really found it”, you tell as you take the ring, examining it like you were making sure it was really yours before slipping it back on your finger.
you’re so happy and you jump at wonwoo, hugging him, “thank you thank you thank you”, you chant, feeling so relieved right now, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. that’s when you realise what you were doing, making you step back abruptly, clearing your throat. “i mean, thank you”, you tell again, as you compose yourself. he gives you an appreciative nod and a small smile and you feel your stomach do a little somersault.
a week later the next trial is being held. you didn’t go for this one, but you got updates from jeonghan and of course the news. the headlines about your father were also ridiculous, but you were used to it at this point really. it’s like the whole world was against your father right now, everyone hated him and you of course. people were angry and demanding justice and jail time, saying he stole taxpayers' money and that he owned the people back, that he should rot in jail for the rest of his life. you shake your head and open your front door to go water your garden when you see another small box on your doorstep. you had been getting these all week. they were threats and normally you should have been scared. but you thought it was a harmless joke. you’d gotten countless threats on the internet so you just assumed it was someone having some fun. shrugging it off, you decided to not tell wonwoo about this.
the weird boxes continue to come, but you realise that they got progressively worse each time, the last two even had death threats, and threats about breaking into your house, but yet again, you didn’t take it seriously. you woke up later today, having trusted wonwoo with your house code so he could enter and start his duty and not have to wake you up at 7am every day.
when you walk to the living area, wonwoo is there. “good morning”, he greets and you yawn, waving at him. “you got a parcel”, he tells and you look at the counter, recognising the box. “shit not another one”, you mumble but wonwoo is sharp to hear it.
you open it, and this time it’s a bunch of your photos, cut up weirdly. but the worst part, your heads were cut off in all of them and there was a cryptic message too. wonwoo comes forward, sees the letter and is quick to look at you. he reaches out for the letter, taking it from your hand before you can hide it and his eyes scan over the contents of the letter, his jaw clenched.
“this isn't okay”, he says. “it probably isn’t a big deal wonwoo, i’ve been getting them all week”, you blurt out, before realising it and you can feel wonwoo’s gaze get more intense.
“what? and you didn’t think to tell me?”, he asks firmly. “i didn’t want to make big deal out it, it’s probably harmless, i get stuff like this all the time online”, you tell.
“but this isn’t online”, he says, emphasizing his words.”and it's always not a big deal until something actually happens yn, this is dangerous”, he tells, clearly upset about this, raising his voice slightly.
he makes you show him all the mail and he looks stressed to say the least. “yn you should have told me about this”, he says, stressed. “how am i supposed to protect you if i don’t know about things like this”, he adds and you can feel his eyes drill into you.
“i’m sorry wonwoo”, you say, feeling bad.
“well, it is a big deal and action will be taken”, he says. “they know your address yn, do a lot of people know your address, where you live?”, he asks, making you think and that’s when you realise. “oh”, you say. “i mean paps are around my house all the time”, you tell.
“but this isn’t a pap”, he tells. “it means this person has been following you around”, he says. “you mean like stalking?”, you ask. “yes exactly”, he tells. you gulp, suddenly realising the weight of the situation.
wonwoo looked stressed the entire day even though you told him not to worry and that you’d karate chop anyone who came near you. he didn’t laugh at your joke, obviously, just keeping a straight face. that night, wonwoo seems apprehensive to leave, worried about the threats you were getting, but you assured him that you were going to be okay, that you were going to lock all your doors and windows and sleep.
the letters and threats keep coming, each getting more violent and wonwoo doesn’t like it one bit. “we need to put some cctvs around your house”, he tells you. you argue that you don’t really need it, but he insists, and to be honest, in the long run, it could be useful so you cave in and he informs you that he’ll make the arrangements.
that night, you’re lying in bed, busy watching a show on your laptop. it was late, but you couldn’t sleep so here you were, catching up on a tv show. but that’s when you hear a noise from outside. you shrug it off and continue watching when your phone pings.
i can see you
what the fuck. you get up and try to look out the window, not seeing anything, but that’s when you hear a noise and you see the shadow of someone on the wall. it moves swiftly and you take a step back, scared. your phone pings again.
looking for me?
you swear you feel a shiver run down your spine. you hear a rattle on your window outside and you gasp, anxious as you tiptoe your way there and you swear you hear a laugh, making you jump.
did i scare you?
another text reads and you gulp, backing up. fuck.
you scramble to unlock your phone and you dial wonwoo, not knowing who else to call. he doesn’t pick up on the first go and you hear the heavy boots of someone outside before you hear your glass window break, a stone getting thrown inside. you dial wonwoo again and he picks up.
“wonwoo, fuck, there’s someone here, i think they’re trying to break in”, you tell in a panic and the phone gets disconnected as you yelp in pain as a small stone from outside that hits your hand, breaking the window furthur as glass shatters everywhere. you hand stings and you clutch your hand as you try to ground yourself. you start panicking, and getting anxious, tears brimming in your eyes. your phone slips from your hand, landing with a thud on the ground. you try to reach out for it but end up getting cut from the glass you couldn’t see in the dark. you suck in a breath as you feel the sharp cut burn and you move back as you sink to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest, hiding under the dining table. what if wonwoo didn’t come you thought as a tear escaped you. you had to get yourself together. but then another stone gets thrown shattering your already broken window. shit, what if someone came in right now. this wasn’t good. your thoughts only add fuel to your panic and you just try to huddle under the table, your hands shaking.
you don’t know how much time passed and you don’t even hear your front door open as wonwoo runs in. “yn?”, he calls out. your house was still dark and you can hear the crunch of glass as he steps on it with his boots, cursing under his breath.
he calls your phone which had fallen down, as it lights up and rings. “yn?”, he calls out again, an edge to his voice, seeing your phone that was discarded on the floor. you raise your head, accidentally hitting it on the top and you wince. you hear wonwoo’s feet shuffle around and he bends down, finally locating you. he offers you his hand and helps you up, which you gladly take. he’s quick to assess your state, guiding you to your bedroom because of all the glass that’s scattered on the floor. he locates the switch and turns on the light and you wince a bit from the sudden intrusion of light. you sit down and wonwoo sits beside you. “are you okay? are you hurt?”, he asks, looking at you carefully before he spots the cut on your hand, bleeding badly. you don’t know how he found your first aid kid, probably his super senses. wonwoo’s sitting next to you as he aids to your cut. he gently holds your hand. “it’s going to burn a bit okay”, he says before he dabs the cut and you wince when the disinfectant comes in contact with your cut, the sting burning and you close your eyes. he wipes it a few more times before letting it dry a bit and covering it with a bandaid. he can tell you’re still pretty shaken up, in a state of shock because of how quiet you are and the way your eyes are still glossed over and teary.
“it’s okay, we caught the person”, he says, trying to help you ease up. “he was running away just as i came and i caught him. he’s with the police right now, but you’ll have to go to the station to answer some questions tomorrow”, he explains.
“he’s gone?”, you ask and he nods and you feel yourself relax a little. you were okay. it was going to be okay.
“i thought you weren’t going to come”, you mumble out. “i would come running for you”, he says, making you look at him. his gaze is soft as he looks at you. “really?”, you ask, softly as you start to get lost in his gaze. “yes”, he says as he holds your gaze.
once everything is settled, he stands in front of you. it was 1am now. “i’ll see you tomorrow then”, he said and he turned around to leave when you grab the end of his shirt sleeve. he turns around, looking down to his hand that you held onto his sleeve before he looks up at you. “can you stay?”, you ask softly, peering up at him. “i’m a little scared”, you add softly, your hand still tugging on the end of his sleeve. “but if you have to go, i understand,” you tell, reluctantly letting go of his sleeve. “i’ll see you tomorrow anyway”, you tell, feeling like you don’t want to burden wonwoo anymore.
“it’s okay, i can stay”, he says.
you tell wonwoo to sleep in the guest bedroom, practically dragging him there because he said he’d sleep on the couch. there was no way he was going to sleep on the couch, especially after the windows got broken there. wonwoo was a bit stubborn, but he finally gives in after you threaten to lock him in if he doesn’t listen to you.
you say a small goodnight before you retreat back into your own room. you fall asleep, only to be awoken as you suddenly feel hot. your head is heavy and you don’t feel good. you needed water. you stand up, feeling a little dizzy before you steady yourself and open your door, heading to the kitchen. you turn on the light and reach out to fetch glass from the counter but your grip falters and it falls to the ground, shattering. you curse under your breath. you’re about to bend down to clean it up but you hear wonwoo call out for you.
“yn?”, he asks as he steps into view, taking in the sight of you and the broken glass. he’s prompt to walk closer. “are you okay?”, he asks. “yeah, it just slipped”, you tell softly. his gaze on your lingers before he’s swift to pick you up and place you on the counter and you don’t even have the chance to protest about it. “let me clean this up okay”, he tells and is quick to remove all the glass and neatly sweep the area. your head is throbbing and you don’t feel too good, your head feeling heavy.
“are you okay?”, wonwoo asks again, observing you keenly and he can tell that something is off about you, that you don’t look okay. “y-yeah”, you say softly, answering him. “you can tell me if something is bothering you yn, i’m here for you”, he adds, his eyes still trained on you and you feel utterly exposed when he looks at you like that, like he can tell exactly what you were thinking and feeling. you gulp.
“i-i don’t feel too good”, you finally admit.
he raises his hand to gently press the back of his hand to your forehead and you watch how his eyebrows furrow.
"yn you’re burning up”, wonwoo says, checking your temperature again. you hop down from the counter, not listening to wonwoo as his arm comes up to wrap around your waist to steady you as you stumble slightly.
“yn, you need to get back to bed”, he instructs, a worried edge to his voice. before you know it, he’s scooping you up in his arms and carrying you bridal style back to the bedroom and you don’t have it in your to say anything as he gently lays you down, adjusting your pillow for you. he’s quick to fetch you a glass of water. he asks you if you have any fever or headache medication and you shake your head lightly indicating that you didn’t have any. he tells you he’ll be back, that he’s just going to the pharmacy around the corner and you lay in bed, under the covers. the throbbing in your head only gets worse and you start to tear up. you fall asleep for a few minutes but awaken when you hear wonwoo’s softly call out to you. you turn around, sniffling and wonwoo can tell you were crying, his expression softening as he sits down next to you.
he helps you take the medication for your fever, telling you that it is going to be okay, that he was right here. your hand brushes against his as you lay as you slowly fall asleep. you feel when his hand move and you reach out, grabbing onto his fingers. “stay, please”, you mumble, half asleep, holding onto his hand as you finally fall asleep.
you wake up in the morning and feel a bit better, sitting up. you’re about to get up when wonwoo enters, spotting you awake. “how are you feeling?”, he asks. “a bit better”, you tell, still feeling a little tired.
“i’m sorry for keeping you up”, you add softly, looking at him. “you can take the day off today, i’m just gonna be at home”, you add.
“it’s not an issue”, he fills in. “i got you some rice porridge, you should eat some and take the medication again”, wonwoo informs. he offers to bring it to you but you decline, saying you wanted to get out of bed anyway. he’s a little hesitant but walks with you to the dining table where he brings the bowl of porridge to you.
you nibble on a few bites of the food, wonwoo keenly watching you and you feel like you’re being stripped bare again by the way he looks at you. “sorry if i kept you awake”, you tell, feeling a little bad.
“don’t apologise yn, i’m more than happy to be around and help”, he says.
after you eat a bit and take your medication, you sleep for a bit more, while wonwoo arranges for your windows to get fixed. you wake up after a few hours and you walk out. wonwoo is there, talking to one of the workers before he spots you in the corner of his eye. he’s dressed in rather casual clothes compared to his daily suits. today was just trousers with a shirt and blazer jacket. he still managed to look good. you were sure he would look good in everything. but the one thing you noticed was his hair, it was down, his bangs falling over his head. and somehow it softened his look, he looked so pretty. wonwoo makes his way towards you, greeting you.
“sorry if all the noise woke you up”, he says as he takes in your appearance.
“it’s okay, i was up anyway", you say.
“they’re almost done”, he adds and you retreat back to your room, crashing in bed as you cuddle your pillow and you’re falling asleep again.
later that week, wonwoo was extra tight on security, he installed cctv cameras outside and the guy who was stalking you was put on a restraining order and fined. jeonghan had also messaged you about all the details about the charity business ball you had to attend in your fathers place. he said going to the ball would sort of put in a good word about your father while jeonghan was working on the trials, even though everything still looked uncertain as ever and the hate for your father just got worse.
the only thing you hated more than parties were parties that were held in the middle of nowhere. your dad always hosted this party at this venue in the middle of nowhere really, far from the city, saying the change of scenery added to the value and taste of the ball. you’d never gone to this charity business ball he’d hosted even though he’d invite you. you hated parties and all the people that came with it. it was tiresome and you’d much rather be at the comfort of your own home.
the charity ball was the news of the week, everyone was covering this and you’d bet some media people were going to be there being their nosy selves as usual. you end up meeting with your usual stylist - hwasa and she’s more than happy to curate a bunch of outfits for you to try on and see which one works for the event. wonwoo accompanies you, standing in the corner of the room while you try on the twelfth dress, already exhausted by the whole process.
but out of all the dresses you tried, you’d liked this one the best. it was a white satin dress with full sleeves and you loved it. it fits you the best too. you step out, looking for hwasa but she’s not there, probably gone to get a few more dresses. you see wonwoo, his eyes catching yours and you see the way they change, widening a little before going back to his stoic expression.
“how do i look?”, you ask wonwoo, looking at him expectantly. he clears his throat before speaking. “you look pretty”, he says and you give him a look. “just pretty? you have to give me more wonwoo. how do we like it from the other dresses?”, you ask, prodding him.
“it’s the best fit compared to the others and compliments you well”, he adds. “right! i thought so too!”, you tell, smiling. just then hwasa appears, smiling as she sees you. “this is the one”, she says as she looks at you and you do a little twirl for her. “yup, let's go with this one”, you tell.
you decide to get an outfit for wonwoo too, you wanted him to look good so you send him with hwasa to get him an outfit, even though he said that he was alright, you insisted.
after the day is over, you head home, tired. the charity ball was on the weekend and it was already wednesday. you were not looking forward to this at all but you were only doing it for your father’s sake. and after all, the company was going to come into your hands later so you might as well show them who you are and what you were capable of, right?
you were supposed to ideally leave on friday night to the venue and stay at a hotel nearby, but you were nervous and somehow at last minute, the hotel you booked cancelled on you, so you just decided to go on the same evening, except it would be a three hour drive. you’re a frantic mess that morning. from going to hwasa’s studio to get your makeup and hair done, and you go back home, leaving from there after changing. the only hitch was they didn’t have the shoes you chose in your size even though it was ordered but it didn’t come on time, so now you were stuck with shoes that were a tad bit tight, but you had to put up with it in the name of fashion.
you’re all ready and you hear a knock on your door. “the car is ready, i’ll be waiting outside”, you hear wonwoo tell.
"i'll be there in a minute", you yell out as you quickly check your appearance in the mirror before you head out. it was going to be okay hopefully, but you couldn’t help the feeling of dread already pooling in your stomach. you give yourself a smile in the mirror before walking out, your shoes already starting to feel uncomfortable. you have your small handbag with your stuff and grab your house key, locking up before turning around and your jaw almost drops on the floor because holy shit.
wonwoo. he looked gorgeous. he was wearing a black turtleneck paired with a black blazer. his hair was styled but over his forehead and he was wearing glasses. god. you stand there for a whole 30 seconds just staring at wonwoo because wow, he looks so hot right now. you’re not even looking when you take the next step, completely misplacing where you put your foot, tripping down the step but you feel a pair of hands grab your waist, steadying you as wonwoo is quick to catch you. your hands are draped on wonwoo as you look up at him and suddenly he’s so close and he smells so good. you can smell his cologne and it just draws you in more. you’re staring at wonwoo, surprised and your eyes flicker down to his lips for a split second before glancing back up.
“woah are you okay”, he asks, worried as he helps you get back on your feet, his hands still lingering around your waist.
“y-yeah”, you mumble out, clearing your throat, and you’re acutely aware of his hands on your body again, making your cheeks heat up. your hand is still clutching wonwoo’s hand before you pull your hand away, gulping as you look down.
you sit behind because your dress needs space so it won’t crease and you glance at wonwoo occasionally as he drives, his side profile is so pretty. he looked pretty hot with glasses and you were suddenly wondering why he didn’t wear them more often. you shift your legs and feel a dull pinch in your feet as you look at your heels. you’d have ideally removed them in the car but it had the most confusing way to tie them up and they’d been tied nicely already. you didn’t want to ruin that so you let it be, sighing. but little did you know that wonwoo would also occasionally look back at you through the rearview mirror. he thought you looked gorgeous tonight.
the car ride is silent except for some soft music playing and your mind starts wandering to the event, trying to prepare yourself for what was to come.
you can tell you’re close when you see all the lights and the venue up front along with the bunch of cars. you take a deep breath, trying to ease your nervousness. your nerves start to hit you more as the car stands in line to walk to the red carpet. you can hear the people, the fans and see the countless media and news reporters who’ve come to cover the event.
soon it’s your turn to walk the red carpet and get to the ball. you’re so nervous that your hands are almost shaking and you hate it. you hate the flashes and the crowd already. the car comes to a halt and wonwoo gets down, rushing to your side and opening the door for you. now that the door was open, all the noise was amplified. you take a breath before you see wonwoo offer his hand to you and you look up at him, the look of panic evident on your face as you get up, and wonwoo can feel the way your hand shakes in his, giving you a small but somewhat comforting squeeze as you put on a fake smile as you step out. you walk ahead, posing for a few pictures before you walk ahead, wonwoo walking behind you.
you get in and you’re greeted by a bunch of people, some you know, some you don’t. most of them were your father’s business partners, people he worked with or were friends and relatives. the rest were just invited for courtesy.
you’re offered a glass of champagne as you enter and you take it, and walk ahead. but as you walk you can feel everyone’s eyes on you, you can feel the weight of their gazes and they all talk in hushed voices as you walk past. you see your father’s friends and go up to them, greeting him.
“hello”, you say nicely and they greet you but are rather hostile. they make small remarks about your father and his situation, joking about not wanting to be seen with you as to protect their reputation. they’re laughing as you’re just standing there, trying not to lose it as you excuse yourself and walk away. your father really had shitty friends, you had to say that. you turn around and spot wonwoo to the side of the room at the back, along with all the other bodyguards as his eyes find yours. you give him a small smile and he nods, smiling ever so softly.
you walk around and talk around to a few people, some feigning sympathy and pity for your dad while others downright insult him. you countered these claims to every person, saying he didn’t do it but they all just laughed or shook their heads. finally, it was time for the ball and event to begin and you took a seat. as you were the host have to technically open the thing so here you were, walking up to the stage, your feet killing you already and your nerves ready to snap at any second. as you take the stage and see the sea of people in front of you, you feel the anxiety pool in your stomach and you gulp. you can feel everyone’s eyes on you, boring into you and suddenly you feel like you’d committed a thousand crimes and everyone was judging you.
“good evening ladies and gentlemen”, you say, giving the audience a small smile.
“i am here tonight on behalf of my father, but i welcome you all and would like to thank you all for coming. the proceeds raised at this ball will be going to children and people in need. thank you for coming once again and have a great night”, you tell, people clapping and you walk off.
another host takes over from here and you walk down the stage, holding your dress up as you look down and see someone you really did not want to be seeing right now - your dad’s business partner's son, who was a #1 asshole.
he’d always been a snob and you almost roll your eyes at the sight of him. you see people writing cheques and putting them in the donation box and in the other room people were dancing to the live band who were playing music.
“hello yn, long time no see”, he says, flashing you his smile, which you didn’t reciprocate. “hi”, you say.
“nice party”, he adds. “thanks”, you say.
“i would like to offer you the first dance”, he asks, giving you a mischievous smile. “oh no that’s alright”, you say but he doesn’t listen.
“come on, don’t be a spoilsport”, he says, taking your hand and taking you along with him to the other side of the room. and soon, his hand is on your waist and he’s smirking at you as you both slowly move. you can see people looking at you but you try to ignore it.
“how’s your dad? i bet things are hard right now”, he says.
“yeah, but i’m sure the truth will be revealed at the end”, you say.
he laughs, making a few snide remarks about your father, which you try to ignore. but suddenly you feel the thread you’re trying to hold onto snap and suddenly the music is too loud, you don’t like the way he’s holding your hand too tight or the way his hand on your waist is going lower and you try to pull away but he doesn’t let you.
“oh i’m sure the truth will be revealed soon”, he says and he leans in, whispering in your ear. “that your father is a crook”, he tells, smirking and he looks at you and you pull your hand away. you walk away, watching as people’s gaze turn towards you but you ignore it, the tears pooling in your eyes as you make your way to the restroom. you enter and lock yourself in one of the stalls, letting a few tears roll down. you hear the door open and a few girls.
“did you see her?”, one of them says.
“i can’t believe she had the audacity to come really”, another girl says.
“she’s so shameless. if my father was jailed i would like never to show my face to anyone.”, a girl adds and the others laugh.
“probably got spoiled from her father’s rotten money”, another girl tells, and they all snicker as they leave.
hearing this only makes you more upset and more tears well in your eyes as you cry silently. you didn’t want to be here anymore, you wanted to be alone, you wanted to leave. you wanted to leave now. panic rises in your chest again along with anger. your eyes well with tears as you walk down the basement where the cars were parked. thank god you had your spare car key with you and you locate your car, getting in and driving off. you grip the steering wheel hard, making your knuckles turn white as you drive. you don’t even know here you’re going, you just know you had to get out of here. you don’t know how long you’ve been driving for, when you realise you don’t even know where you are. you had gotten a couple of texts from wonwoo but you ignore it and soon wonwoo was calling you but you ignored it too. you didn’t have the energy to deal with him right now. you wanted to be alone.
your car suddenly sputters and breaks down in the middle of the road in almost the middle of nowhere. the road was empty and you couldn’t see anyone or any other cars, people or buildings, fuck. you bury your head in your hands, crying out in frustration as you think about what to do. well you guess now was a good time to call wonwoo.
wonwoo picks up your phone almost immediately. he’d seen you dancing but after that, during the entire party he didn’t see you. now that it was almost over and he still couldn’t locate you, he was obviously worried. he’d texted you and called you countless times but you weren’t responding, leading him to think something might have happened. he’s a frantic mess as he desperately tries to look for you, calling you, but you don’t respond.
“yn? yn are you okay”, wonwoo’s voice is urgent on the other line of the phone.
“wonwoo”, you tell softly, nearly on the verge of tears again.
“where are you? are you okay?”, he asks and that’s all it takes for you to burst into tears again, feeling like the whole weight of the world was on your shoulders.
“yn, please tell me where you are”, he pleads, concern laced in his voice.
“i don’t know”, you tell, your voice cracking, more tears rolling down your already tear stained cheek.
“i got overwhelmed and i left, i took the car and i drove and i-i don’t know where i am”, you tell through broken sobs. “and now the car broke down, god knows where”, you add, sniffling.
“send me your live location, i’ll track you”, he says. “stay in the car and lock the doors, i’m coming”, he assures. “can you stay on the line with me”, you ask. “of course”, he fills in.
wonwoo discovers you’ve driven a whole 45 minutes away and he assures you that he’s coming. but only ten minutes in your phone dies. “fucking phone”, you mumble as you look at the dark road. ten minutes pass and now you start getting scared. wonwoo was going to come right? blame your stupid anxiety but you thought of the worst scenarios that could happen, only psyching yourself more. the car feels more suffocating by the minute and your shoes feel like they're getting tighter. panic sets in stronger and you can’t take it anymore, can’t take the tightness in your shoes and you hastily undo the laces and pull off your shoes, wincing slightly when you feel it scrape against the back of your ankle. you close your eyes and try to take a few deep breaths.
after what feels like an eternity, you see a car pull up near you. you can’t make out anyone, the light almost blinding, but you see someone step out, making their way to your car. you open the door and step out, hearing the voice calling your name - wonwoo. relief immediately floods through your body as you run towards him, crashing into his arms as you start sobbing in his chest, your arms wrapped tightly around his body. he’s a little taken aback but his hands engulf you, pulling you in for a warm embrace.
“i thought you weren’t going to make it”, you mumble out, your arms wrapped around wonwoo as you start to cry. “of course i’d come yn, i gave you my word”, he says, his hand coming up to cradle your head.
“my phone died and i-i didn’t know what i was going to do”, you mumble out, looking up at wonwoo. he studies your face, his gaze softening as he takes in your state and your tear-stained cheeks. you’ve cried a lot today. you finally drop your hands from around wonwoo, letting him go. wonwoo looks down and sees you’re barefoot. “where are your shoes?”, he asks. “they’re in the car, it was getting uncomfortable”, you say. wonwoo is quick to grab your phone, keys and bag from your car and to your surprise, there’s a pair of sneakers. he puts them in front of you, bending down to help you put them on. “where did you get those?”, you ask, surprised. “i like to be prepared”, he informs, helping you wear the shoes before standing back up and your hand automatically grab his hand, intertwining your fingers in his, hoping to find some grounding through his touch.
wonwoo asks the cab to take you both to the nearest hotel, which was roughly ten minutes away from where you were according to the cab driver. you’re still holding wonwoo’s hand and he lets you as you try to calm down. you see a building up ahead and the cab driver tells you that this is the location. you both enter, walking up to the reception and the lady there looks up as you both up.
“we’d like two rooms please”, wonwoo asks.
“unfortunately we only have one room left”, the lady says.
“we’ll take it”, you chirp in and wonwoo looks at you.
“it’s a couple suite so i can only book couples in it”, she says, chewing on gum, looking bored to even be there. “are you a couple or”, she asks.
“no” “yes”, you say and you both look at each other.
“we are, ignore him, he’s a little shy”, you tell and she just looks between you both again.
“alright, how would you like to pay, cash or card?” the lady asks. you dig through your purse and find your card, handing it over and you have your room key. wonwoo notices the way you’re walking slowly this time, watching your face contour in the slightest of winces with each step. “are you hurt?”, he asks, walking forward as he puts his hands on your shoulder, his eyes raking your body for any sign of discomfort or hurt. “no-my shoes-ouch-were the wrong fit”, you fill in. “i think i got a shoebite from them”, you say as you look up the flight of stairs you’d have to climb mentally bracing yourself when you feel wonwoo’s hands wrap around you and lifting you up bridal style. you let out a small surprised yelp, your arms wrapping around wonwoo’s neck for support.
“woah w-what are you doing?”, you stutter out, looking at wonwoo, whose face is barely inches from yours. “your feet are already hurt, i don’t want you climbing up the stairs in that state”, he announces, carrying you as he walks up the stairs. you feel that familiar heat creep up your cheeks and that tiny feeling of butterflies as you look at wonwoo. he looked really pretty up close, his hair falling over his forehead as his glasses sat perfectly on the bridge of his nose. you reach your room and unlock the door, wonwoo still carrying you and he sets you down. you tell him a quiet thank you as your hands are quick to slide off the sneakers, feeling instant relief. but just has you had predicted, you got shoebites. both the sides of your pinky toes and heels were bruised and raw.
wonwoo fetches something from his wallet - bandaids. you’re surprised. “so you just carry around bandaids in your wallet??”, you ask, amused. “like i said, i have to be prepared”, he says. you try to take the bandaid from his hand, telling him that you’d put it on but he doesn’t let you as he bends down on one knee so now he’s matching your height. he gently places your foot on his knee has he puts the bandaid your heel. he repeats the same for your other heel before you put your leg down and wonwoo looks at you.
“i’m sorry”, you tell softly, gazing into his alluring eyes. “are you mad at me? it’s valid if you’re mad at me because i just ran off and completely ignored your calls and-”. you stop when you feel his hand gently squeeze yours, a small act of assurance. “you’re safe now and that’s all that matters”, he says, his voice deeply soothing. you smile, leaning in to peck his cheek. “thank you wonwoo”, you tell and he gives you a soft smile as he gets up. little did you know that wonwoo’s heart was racing from your little action as he tried to maintain his composure.
wonwoo wanders off to another room but comes back outside. “there’s only one bed”, he says, like it’s a fact. “so?”, you ask, getting up.
“i guess i’ll sleep on the couch over there”, he says, pointing towards the couch that looked like anyone would wake up with back pain if they slept on it.
“wonwoo it’s fine, we’re just gonna sleep”, you tell. “you’re acting like sleeping in the same bed is a crime”, you say. “i would prefer not to interfere-” “sleep on the bed or i’ll take the couch”, you threaten.
but now there was a bigger problem than the bed, you didn’t have any change of clothes. thankfully the hotel sold some stuff as merchandise and t-shirts and pants were in the collection too.
you go to the bathroom and change, finally stripping out of your dress and you hang it up to air, changing into the clothes you got. your feet still hurt a bit when you walked because they’d been cramped up in those tiny shoes for too long. you walk out, your eyes widening as you catch wonwoo changing his shirt and you immediately turn around, your cheeks flushing. “sorry”, you mumble before turning around after a few seconds. but you did not miss the peek you got at his abs, oh my gosh.
you mentally slap yourself and sit on the corner of the bed, a yawn taking over you as you glance at the time - 2am. you were tired, it had been a long and exhausting day. you settle in bed, wonwoo sitting on the single couch opposite you, his hair slightly ruffled now from him running his hands through it, and yet it somehow still looked fluffy. wonwoo told you he’d sleep in a bit and you close your eyes, dozing off immediately, sleep overtaking your tired body. but you wake up an hour later because of a loud crack and boom and the heavy downpour of rain. you stir awake and another lighting strikes, flashing into the room before a low rumble follows. you open your eyes and see wonwoo, who’s busy reading a book under the dim lights. you sit up slightly, another loud thunder hitting making you jump as you hit your head on the headboard, startling wonwoo as well.
“yn? are you okay?”, he asks, putting the book down and coming up to you. another loud thunder rumbles, shaking the ground and you cover your eyes, closing your eyes. you hated thunderstorms. “what’s wrong?”, wonwoo asks, sitting down beside you on the other side of the bed. “n-nothing i just don’t like loud noises and thunder”, you meekly say, still sleepy from the sudden intrusion. “it’s dumb i-”, you stop when another earth rumbling thunder hits, making you jump again. “can i hold your hand? it helps me calm down”, you ask softly, a little embarrassed, but wonwoo offers you his hand. it feels warm, soft and safe as you hold it and wonwoo makes himself a bit more comfortable as he sits next to you.
“what were you reading? '', you ask, letting wonwoo’s hand go after two minutes and now that you are a bit more awake, you take in wonwoo’s look. even in the dark, you could make out his hair was now messily dishevelled which only added to the charm and the glasses god, he looked so hot. you weren’t even listening to what he was saying as your hand fiddles with your ring on your finger. wonwoo looks at you and tilts his head to the side ever so slightly.
“what are you thinking about?”, he asks, his voice deep.
“n-nothing”, you fill in, feeling embarrassed about your thoughts. “how do you know i’m thinking about something”, you ask, trying to get the upper hand on wonwoo, only for it to backfire on you.
“you’re fiddling with your ring, and you only do that when you’re thinking about something or something is bothering you”, he says. well damn, he was a keen observer.
“oh”, is all you say as you look at your ring, biting your lip before you look back up at him.
“nothing, it’s really stupid”, you tell but wonwoo looks like he wasn’t going to budge until you gave him an answer.
“i’m sure it’s not stupid”, he adds, trying to reassure you, waiting expectantly. fuck it you think.
“i was just thinking about um”, you start getting nervous, your cheeks heating up and you avoid his gaze, stuttering out the next words. “i was thinking about how-um-how good you look with glasses. it really brings out your features you know and it makes you look really hot. you should wear them more often”, you confess, whispering the last bit, the familiar heat creeping up your cheeks. he doesn’t say anything, but you swear you can see the faint smirk as his lips curve up. you look away, his gaze on you suddenly too intense for you to bear.
“okay your turn, what are you thinking about”, you ask in a hurry, hoping it would turn the attention away from you.
“do you really want to know?”, he asks slowly and you nod your head, looking at him. “you don’t talk much do you, so i’m guessing there must be a lot on your mind”, you prompt. he’s silent for a few seconds before he speaks.
“i’m thinking about what a wonderful person you are”, he says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “i’m thinking about how you are only so caring and attentive towards others but yourself. i’m thinking about how the whole world seems to have a wrong impression of you, and that you don’t deserve any of the shitty things happening to you right now. i’m thinking about when it will all end and when you’ll be able to be happy”, he says, his words completely catching you off guard. each of his thoughts strike a chord in you and you almost tear up. out of everyone, it seemed like only wonwoo was on your side.
“wonwoo”, you say softly, at a loss for words. you don’t even know when you leaned towards wonwoo but your eyes flicker down to his lips for a split second before you look back up. “i’m thinking about how gorgeous you looked tonight and that if i had the chance i would have asked you for a dance earlier tonight if not given the current circumstances”, he adds, his gaze never leaving yours as he stares into you deeply, fondly as he opens up to you.
“and as of this moment, i’m thinking about how it would be to kiss you”, he fills in and you blink up at him, getting nervous at his confession. you answer him by leaning in and softly pecking his lips, lingering for a few seconds before you pull away but still close enough that has your heart beating rapidly.
wonwoo leans in, kissing you, properly this time. his hand gently cups your cheek as he moves his lips against yours and you swear you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach at that moment. you kiss him back and you move your head, accidentally knocking his glasses, making you both pull away. “oops sorry”, you say, a little breathless as your hands reach out to take off his glasses and he is quick to put them on the side table before turning his attention back to you. you look up at him. “what are you thinking about now?”, you ask, your lips centimetres away from his, and you can feel your heart racing again, the echoes of the beats loud in your chest.
“i’m thinking about how i want to kiss you again”, he says, closing the gap between you both as he captures your lips in his this time you sigh into the kiss as wonwoo cups your cheek, deepening the kiss as his arm encircles your waist, pulling you closer to him. wonwoo quite literally knocks the breath out of you as he pulls away slowly, watching your chest rise and fall. you kiss him again, getting giddy at the feeling of his lips on yours as he kisses you breathlessly again, softly pushing you down on the bed as your head rests on the pillow, wonwoo’s body hovers over yours, careful not to put his weight on you as he kisses you sweetly, the drumming of the rain outside as your soundtrack.
you wake up, wonwoo’s arms around your waist as you blink your eyes open. the sun was filtering through the white curtains, rays of sunshine adorning the floor and wall. wonwoo is still fast asleep beside you and you take this chance to look at him, really look at him. his hair is messy but cutely dishevelled, his eyes closed as soft breaths leave him as he sleeps, peaceful. he’s so pretty you think to yourself as you smile softly to yourself. you remember the events of last night, the kiss, and suddenly feel yourself getting very very shy as you bite your lips to contain the silly smile that aims to erupt across your face. you continue to admire wonwoo, his big warm hands still engulfing you as you shift slightly to check the time. when you turn back, wonwoo softly stirs awake, his pretty eyes fluttering open as he awakens.
“hi”, you say softly.
“hi”, he says, his morning voice deeply attractive.
you both look at each other, not saying anything but just taking in each other’s presence. “did you sleep okay?”, he asks, searching your face and you shake your head, mumbling something about how you’re still tired.
his hand comes up to hold yours as he gently lifts it to his lips, giving it a soft kiss, his eyes never leaving yours, making you laugh softly. god, he was so dreamy.
“what do you want to do today?”, he asks.
“sleep, i just wanna sleep”, you groan, burying your face into the pillow. wonwoo’s hand wraps around your waist as he pulls you closer towards him. “then sleep”, he says, placing a soft kiss to your cheek, making you smile. you close your eyes and soon drift off to sleep, wonwoo’s embrace making you feel safe and comfortable. and soon, wonwoo was also sleeping with you, both of you sleeping soundly in each other’s embrace.
it’s only around lunchtime that you both stir awake again and mostly because someone was knocking on your door, leading you to both wake up to the sudden noise.
“we have to checkout by 5pm or pay to stay another night”, he tells you. “we should leave, but the car!”, you tell, sitting up in bed.
“i’ll get it fixed, i’ve arranged for it, " he says. “i’ll go get our clothes from the hotel’s drycleaning," he says. you’d have to wear the same dress again but you didn’t mind.
wonwoo is quick to have a shower and he's changed into his suit from yesterday, that’s all clean and freshly pressed for the day minus the blazer as he tells you he’ll bring the car. you ask him if you can come along but he says it’s best to stay back. you feel a bit bummed about it but stay back nonetheless. all your luggage was in the car, in a rush you and wonwoo had forgotten it, but could change when he was back. wonwoo is finally back and you manage to get your luggage, and you change into something comfortable, ready to leave for home.
you check out and head towards the car as wonwoo loads in your luggage before spotting you, opening the car door for you. you sit upfront this time and the journey home begins. you end up talking a bit but get hungry since you really haven’t eaten anything yet. wonwoo is quick to stop by a nearby restaurant once you guys enter the city and you gladly inhale some food.
it’s been two weeks since you and wonwoo kissed and every time you thought about it, it made you all shy. wonwoo was his usual self, back in business mode but his touches now lingered and he’d talk to you sweetly, opening up to you more, and maybe somehow a little more protective of you.
you were now in jeonghan’s office, upset and mostly scared of the way your father’s trial was going. it seemed like things were going in favour of the prosecution and not your father.
“what’s going wrong”, you ask jeonghan, who only sighs at your question. “i’m really trying my best here yn”, jeonghan says, looking at you. “i really don’t know where the prosecution is getting all this new evidence from”, he says. “i’m doing my best yn but at this rate maybe it’s better for your father to serve the jail time”, he says, making you immediately protest at the thought.
“what? why should he go to jail for something he didn’t even do?”, you almost yell out.
“given the circumstances, serving ten years looks the best for him. i can even try to reduce it to seven along with community service and probation”, he adds and you click your tongue, upset at the whole idea and proposition.
he takes a few moments to think before speaking to you again. "his company has come to a standstill, someone needs to step up in the meantime and run things around there”, he starts off, being careful with his words.
“but you know what would help? if i was maybe given the power of attorney. it would help big time in trying to smooth over the company and business until things with your father are settled”, he says, giving you an assuring smile.
“you should ask my father about that”, you say. “oh i know but maybe you could also ask him, it would be helpful”, he asks.
“i’ll see”, you say. “just make sure my father gets out of this soon”, you ask jeonghan. he gives you a smile, which for some reason runs a shiver down your spine but you shake it off, getting up.
wonwoo drops you home that night after your meeting with jeonghan and walks you back inside. he can tell you’re stressed and anxious about your father’s situation as both of you linger at the doorstep. he reaches out for your hand, as he looks at you, his thumb caressing your hand in an attempt to comfort and soothe you. after a few seconds he takes a few steps forward, bringing his arms around you as he engulfs you in a much needed hug. you sigh in his arms as you close your eyes, letting yourself sink his hold.
“i’m going to be here with you every step of the way”, he reassures.
“thank you wonwoo”, you respond as you pull away and look at him.
“it’s going to be okay”, he says as he looks at you.
“i hope so”, you say, almost defeated after what jeonghan told you about earlier.
he looks at you with the most loving eyes before he leans in and kisses you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as he softly moves his lips against yours as he kisses you sweetly.
“goodnight”, he says softly, sweetly. “goodnight”, you whisper back, stealing another kiss from wonwoo before you retreat back inside.
the next week when wonwoo comes to your house in the morning there’s something different about him, in his demeanour and the way he acts. he strictly keeps to himself, not indulging in small talk with you at all, and brushing your hand off when you try to hold his hand. you felt hurt but decided to brush it off. maybe he had a reason for it, but the thought that he’d be so blunt about it hurt. you wanted to ask him but you didn’t. you decide to go see your father today at the detention centre he was being kept at. you had gotten used to wonwoo’s silence but today it felt odd, suffocating almost, but you don’t say anything, suddenly feeling like a burden to wonwoo.
you’re waiting for your father as you sit on the other end of the room, a plastic divider dividing you and him. you stand up as soon as he walks in and he gives you a small smile. he looks tired.
“are you okay?”, you ask, sitting down. “i can manage," he says.
“so things aren’t going in your favour”, you say, looking at your father. “i am aware”, he says.
“what about the company? and your business? what’s going to happen to that?”, you ask.
“yn, you know i always intended for you to take over the company at some point”, he says. “but maybe you’ll have to take over earlier than i thought”, he says.
“what do you mean?”, you prompt.
“i mean that you will have to take over”, he says. “it is going to be hard, there are going to be obstacles and people are going to try and bring you down but i have faith and trust in you”, he says.
“what if i’m not ready”, you say.
“i’ll always be here and you know what they say, fake it till you make it”, your father tells, making you chuckle as you hold back your tears.
“jeonghan was asking about you giving him the power of attorney”, you say as you see your father's gaze change.
“no, if i were to give anyone the power of attorney right now, it should be you”, he says.
“but don’t you trust jeonghan? i’m sure he’ll be able to help run things until i’m ready to take over”, you say.
“i wouldn’t trust anyone right now”, your father says. “i would rather have my own child act on my behalf than jeonghan”, he says. “a power of attorney is a powerful thing and i would trust you with it more than jeonghan”, he says and you nod as you take in his words.
that evening wonwoo leaves again, and he was still cold towards you. you decided to bring it up to him tomorrow because it was starting to make you feel weird, uneasy and bad. the next day, your doorbell rings a few times. you wonder why wonwoo hasn’t bothered just entering your house like he always has. was this a new thing now? you really had to talk this out with him.
“wonwoo what are-”, you start but stop because the person in front of you wasn’t wonwoo. “who are you?”, you ask. “i’m your new bodyguard from today”, he says. you look him up and down because he didn’t look very bodyguard material.
“what happened to wonwoo?”, you ask, taken aback by this. he just shrugs. “i don't know, jeonghan sent me so you should talk to him”, he says before stepping in, uninvited if you had to say.
you go to your room to fetch your phone and come back to see the guy just sitting on your couch, scrolling through his phone, wow. talk about being professional.
you glare at him as you dial jeonghan. he picks up after a few rings.
“what happened to wonwoo?”, you ask, not wasting a second.
“no hi?”, he says, sensing the urgency in your voice.
“where’s wonwoo”, you ask again.
“wonwoo quit”, jeonghan says like it was no big deal.
“what do you mean he quit?”, you ask in shock. “he quit yn, he told me a few days back. he said he didn’t want to work for you anymore”, he adds, making your heart drop.
“but why, there must have been a reason right?”, you ask jeonghan.
“i think it’s for the best yn, and besides, i told you not to get too close to him”, jeonghan says and you didn’t like the tone of his voice.
after that you call wonwoo but he doesn’t pick up but you keep calling. he couldn’t just quit on you like that. there must have been a reason. and you think back to yesterday and how he was acting so cold towards you for the last few days. you tear up at the thought. why? why would he do that? did he really just use you?
you watch as your new bodyguard sits on your couch lazily, not even bothered about trying to do his job right. you were pretty sure that if you went out the door right now, this guy wouldn’t even notice. you roll your eyes at the thought and sigh.
“i’m going to see jeonghan”, you tell. “sure, i guess i should drive you right, just let me finish this level, i’ve almost cracked it”, he says. he was not being serious right now.
after five minutes you get his attention. “excuse me?? can we go or shall i go myself?”, you ask. “i’m coming jeez, you’re so stuck up”, he says.
as soon as you burst into jeonghan’s office, he looks at you with a glint in his eyes.
“what do i owe this pleasure to”, he says.
“you could have at least hired a competent replacement, this new guy sucks actually, he doesn’t even have basic manners”, you tell jeonghan.
“he was the best replacement i could find”, jeonghan tells nonchalantly and you scoff.
“best replacement? you’ve got to be kidding me right now. wonwoo was the best and he was actually qualified. this guy looks like someone you just picked off the street”, you argue.
jeonghan doesn’t say anything as he filters through the stack of papers on his desk, finding what he was looking for before he looks back up at you. “did you ask your father about the power of attorney thing?”, he asks, changing the topic.
“i did and he wasn’t too keen on it. he said he’d rather give me the power of attorney power than you”, you say but jeonghan doesn’t seem fazed at all.
“i expected that, so why don’t we start processing the papers to give you power of attorney. and then you can transfer it to me right? i can hold fort until you’re ready”, he says, more like he’d had it all planned out rather than asking you.
“i’ll process the papers to make you power of attorney for now”, he says. “okay”, you say. “now if you’ll excuse me, i have a lot of work of work to do”, he tells.
“what did wonwoo tell you when he quit”, you quickly ask.
“yn we are not going there”
“just tell me, please”
“he said he didn’t want to work for you anymore”, jeonghan says.
“that’s all he said?”, you ask.
“yes”, and suddenly all your hopes sink.
you get back home and in the following days you just stay at home. you were somehow on the news these days, and for the dumbest reason really, it was like people were trying to nitpick you apart and post things about you. you called wonwoo again and texted him a bunch of times but there was not one single response. you couldn’t believe that wonwoo would do something like that, after all you guys shared. it broke your heart really.
and to say your new bodyguard was incompetent was an understatement. the other day he couldn’t even protect you from being mobbed or spot the paparazzi that you caught in a blink of an eye. you wanted wonwoo, you missed him.
you go to jeonghan’s office and go to the detention centre again to get the power of attorney transferred to you because your dad also had to be present.
your dad carefully reads the document, making sure everything was right, even the fine print that people tend to ignore before deeming it legal and everything was good. he signs it and puts his stamp on it and so do you.
“use this power wisely yn, i’m trusting you”, he says and you nod.
when you reach home, you’re just waiting for the new guy to go.
“give me your phone”, the new guy says, coming up to you and he doesn’t even wait for you to answer before he’s plucking your phone out of your hand.
“what the hell?”, you ask, trying to take your phone back but he doesn’t let you.
“no more phone for you for the time being, jeonghan’s orders, with all these headlines about you going around he says it’s for the best”, he says.
“no give me my phone back”, you demand but he grabs your hand, pushing you towards your room, slamming the door shut and you hear the lock engage. you try to open the door but it doesn’t.
“hey open this door right now”, you tell, beating your hand on the door. “that’s not going to change anything”, he says, chucking as you hear his footsteps around the hallway.
“she’s locked up”, he says, talking to someone on the phone.
“let me out”, you yell again, banging your fist on the door again.
“shut it”, he says, kicking the door, only prompting you to bang your fist on the door harder.
but after no avail you stop, sinking to the ground, tears already welling in your eyes. your life just really kept getting shitty and shittier didn’t it.
you open your eyes as you hear the key rattle on the other side, the doorknob rattling and the door opening. you’re quick to stand up.
“what the fuck is wrong with you”, you yell but the new guy doesn’t seem fazed at all. “he wants to see you”, he tells, grabbing your hand but you pull it out of his grip. “move”, he demands and you reluctantly move towards the hall and your eyes go wide at who you see - jeonghan.
“did you do this?”, you ask, in shock.
“i have to get things done don’t i yn”, he says, giving you that creepy smile again. “and now you’re going to be a good girl and sign these papers”. he says, holding out in front of you.
“what is that”, you ask. “the transfer of power of attorney from you to me”, he says.
“there’s no way in hell i’m doing that after what you just fucking did”, you spit out, getting upset.
“getting feisty now are we? let’s not forget that your father’s fate lies in my hands and if you do not sign this paper right now, i will send your father to rot in jail for the rest of his life”, he says, threatening you.
“what-you can’t-you wouldn’t”, you say.
“oh believe me yn, i would. so choose. your father goes to jail or you sign these papers and save his life”, he demands.
“why are you doing this”, you ask bitterly.
“because your father is an idiot and this is the one time i’ve outsmarted him”, jeonghan tells, smug.
“what are you talking about? if you want money give me a number, i’ll give it to you, just stop all this”, you plead.
“oh i’ll get my money yn, but i need to see your father crumble down, that’s what he deserves”, jeonghan says.
he thrusts the papers towards your face. “sign it”, he demands.
“over your dead body, i’m not signing shit jeonghan”, you spit back.
“i don’t think right now is the time to be rebellious yn”, he says, pursing his lips in a thin line.
“oh i’ve always been rebellious jeonghan and i’m not going to let you get away with this”, you tell.
“i doubt that”, he tells, signalling for the bodyguard as he grabs your arm and drags you to your room, pushing you inside and locking the door again.
“think again yn, you’re only getting out of here when these documents are signed and by then it’ll be too late to do anything”, jeonghan says from the other side of the door.
“fuck you jeonghan, you just wait, i’m gonna get you”, you spit out.
you hear him say something only catching the last words being ‘don’t let her out’ .
what the fuck was happening to your life. fuck. you bang your fist on the door, letting out your frustration, sinking to your knees as you try to hold it in, keep it together but you can't. you bang the door a couple more times as tears roll down your cheeks. and yet, the only person you could think of in this situation was wonwoo. only he could help you now, he would know what to do. but you had no means to contact him after your phone was taken away and you were now locked in the room.
you bury your head in your knees, trying to breathe and think. think yn and that’s when you get an idea - your laptop. it was synced to your phone contacts. you get up, rushing to grab your laptop, frantically opening it and you open the messages app and find wonwoo. all your previous texts to him are still unread. no you needed to find him, texting him wasn’t going to work right now. but the question was how? and that’s when you remember the thing jeonghan had sent you before , wonwoo’s resume, which had his address, bingo.
you open your chat logs with jeonghan, scrolling up till the part when jeonghan had sent you wonwoo’s resume and just as you guessed, his address was on it. you grab a pen and jot down the address on a scrap piece of paper. but how were you going to get there? you looked up and at the window behind your desk. you get up, pushing your table to the side slowly trying not to make any loud noises, huffing and puffing.
after you manage to push the table aside enough, you slide the window open and poke your head out, looking at the distance but the jump wasn’t too bad. you slowly swing your legs over, taking a breath before reaching down with your feet and them jumping. the only protection you had against the bare ground was your socks right now. you close the window behind you and look left and right. you slowly and quietly walk towards the back gate and open it slowly, making a quick escape and you jog down the road. you look at the address that’s now crumpled in your hand and it wasn’t too far. you didn’t have cash or anything on your to take the bus so walking you were.
fifteen minutes in and you're getting tired and you put on the hood of your hoodie, hoping no one would recognise you but continue speed walking to the address in your hand. wonwoo would know what to do. wonwoo could help you. wonwoo. you start picking up your speed as you walk without even realising and soon you're running, your legs are working on their own, desperate for an escape and to find wonwoo. after sprinting and jogging for a bit you finally come up to the address, his apartment and you bend down, resting your hands on your knees as you try to catch your breath.
you’re about to walk in when security stops you. “i’m here to see wonwoo, he lives here right”, you ask between breaths.
“mr. jeon? are you his guest?”, the security asks.
“yes, yes, please which building does he live in”, you ask, pulling your hood down in an aim to not let the man recognise you.
“wouldn’t you know that if you know him?”
“please, it’s urgent”, you ask. “he knows me i swear”, you tell. “it's an emergency just, please tell me”, you plead.
the man finally tells you the information and you sprint to the building and run up the stairs, not bothering to wait for the elevator to come. you open the staircase door, entering the main floor, your chest heaving from the effort of running up the stairs. you were lucky you didn’t fall on your face at the pace you were going at. you locate his door number and you stand in front of it and suddenly you’re scared. what if he didn’t open the door? what if he wasn’t here? you can hear your heart pounding in your chest as you raise your hand to ring his doorbell. a few moments pass and nothing and you ring it again and again. shit was he not home?
you take a step back, your head down, suddenly feeling defeated when you hear the doorknob rattle and the door opens. you look up and wonwoo is in front of you. he was really here. you found him.
“yn?”, he asks, as he adjusts the glasses on his face as if he couldn't believe it was you at his doorstep. you get hit with a wave of emotions at that minute and wonwoo is asking you something but you’re not listening as your vision gets blurry and all you can do in that moment in crash into wonwoo’s arms as you start to sob in his chest, the impact making wonwoo stumble before he held onto you. you weren’t crying because you were upset, you were crying because you felt relief - relief that you finally found wonwoo.
you pull away from him and look up and he finally sees the state you’re in, bare feet and he’s quick to spot the bruises on your knuckles and hands from banging on the door as you wipe your tears. wonwoo looks you up and down as he takes both your hands in, his expression suddenly dark as he looks at you.
“who did this to you”, he asks sternly as another tear escapes you.
“j-jeonghan”, you stutter out through a sob. “they’re working together and t-they locked me in the room”, you tell and you can see the rage burning behind wonwoo’s eyes.
“jeonghan did this?”, he asks, anger seething in his eyes and you nod.
“he’s-he’s been behind all this the whole time, the whole reason my father is in jail a-and he was threatening me”, you tell in a rush, not making a coherent sentence.
wonwoo pulls you in a hug, holding you tight. “where were you, why did you leave?”, you demand through a broken sob as the door behind you closes. “i missed you”, you tell softly, your voice cracking as a few more sobs escape you.
“fuck, i missed you too”, he says as he hugs you tighter. you feel something soft rub around your legs and look down, seeing wonwoo’s cat near your feet. “your cat”, you say as you sniffle.
you’re on the couch now, wonwoo giving you new socks and slippers to wear as freshen up, washing your face and feet. wonwoo’s cat is inquisitive of you, sitting on the floor in front of you as she looks at you. “hi oreo”, you say and she meows, making you smile.
wonwoo busies himself in the kitchen as he makes you some chamomile tea to help you calm down and sets the steaming mug in front of you. wonwoo also sets down an envelope next to the mug, signalling for you to open it. you look at him before your hand reaches out for the envelope and you open it, the contents inside making you gasp.
“what’s this?”, you ask, as you sift through the pile of photos, each one making you upset and even more confused. they were pictures of you and wonwoo at the hotel that night after the event, but the person who took them captured you wonwoo sharing a kiss and you sleeping in his wonwoo’s arms. you feel a surge of rage in your body as you look at this.
“this is what jeonghan gave me and he tried to blackmail me with this”, wonwoo says, breaking the silence. “he threatened me with these, saying if i didn’t quit that he would give these photos to the press. i don’t know what he was planning but i did what he said because i didn’t want you getting hurt”, he says. “the bastard probably had someone tail us and take this”, he adds.
“i know it was sudden but there was nothing i could do, he was strict on not making any sort of contact with you afterwards. he said he was watching me and that otherwise these pictures would get leaked in a second if i contacted you and i didn’t want that. i don’t know what sort of twisted sick game he’s playing but i didn’t want you waking up one day and seeing these pictures in the headlines. you’re already going through hell right now and this was the least i could do to protect your reputation, to protect you”, he says, his hand finding yours as he gives it a small squeeze.
‘i’m going to kill jeonghan i swear to god”, you mutter under your breath.
“we have to help my father, we have to do something, you’ll help me right?”, you ask, pleading almost.
“of course yn. i was dying everyday i couldn't see you or tell you what really happened, i was just praying you wouldn’t hate me for it”, he tells.
after things between you both get cleared up, you promptly end up falling asleep, curled up in his arms on the couch. when you were with wonwoo you felt safe, secure, like the world was going to be okay, that you were going to be okay. wonwoo gently carries you to his bed, tucking you in as he slips inside the sheets beside you, watching you sleep and he vowed to himself - that no matter what, he was going to protect you.
you stir awake in the morning in wonwoo’s soft sheets, turning around and seeing the other side of the bed empty. you walk outside, seeing wonwoo busy in the kitchen as he sets a pot on the table. he spots you.
“good morning”, he says and you give him a small smile. “morning”, you tell as you move closer to wonwoo, seeing the small breakfast spread laid out on the table. you hear a meow, followed by another and another.
“someone is hungry”, you joke as you look at oreo waiting for wonwoo to give her food.
“she’s usually patient, aren’t you oreo”, wonwoo says and oreo meows in agreement and protest. you chuckle, this side of wonwoo was adorable.
you both sit down to eat and you’re grateful for the meal, later insisting that you help wonwoo clean up and wash the dishes, even though he insists you don’t need to but your stubbornness wins and he leans on the side of the counter as he watches you wash the dishes, looking defeated.
just then there’s a knock on the door. wonwoo stands alert and checks who it is.
“it’s jeonghan” wonwoo says softly.
“shit, what do we do?”
“go to my room, close the door and stay there till i tell you to come out”, wonwoo instructs and you’re quick to go to his room, closing the door.
wonwoo opens his front door and jeonghan stands there looking irritated.
“what is it?”, wonwoo asks, giving jeonghan a cold stare.
“where’s yn?”, he asks, running a hand through his hair, frustrated.
“how should i know”, wonwoo says.
“listen wonwoo, lying right now is not going to help”
“i don’t know where yn is”, wonwoo repeated.
“if she contacts you, you tell me right away, got it”, jeonghan says as he points a finger at wonwoo.
“did something happen?”, wonwoo asks, trying to assess the situation.
“oh nothing, yn just seems to have gone off without informing anyone, i was just worried”, he tells, giving wonwoo a fake smile before leaving.
you hear the door close, wonwoo telling you that jeonghan was gone.
“he’s looking for you alright. i think it’s better you don’t go out for the time being. you can stay with me till then and we can come up with a plan together okay”, he says, one hand caressing your cheek. you nod.
later that day, wonwoo says he’ll hire a new lawyer for your father and appeal to the court and also indict jeonghan. but the only problem was that how were you going to prove everything that jeonghan was doing? if you only had that evidence it would also help in proving your father innocent.
“i could hire someone to raid his house maybe”, wonwoo says.
“what, you can do that?”you asked him, shocked but liking the idea.
“i mean he’s not playing fair either is he? let’s mess with him a little”, wonwoo says.
“but how will you find someone to do that?”, you ask curiously.
“i have connections sweetheart”, he tells. “i’m an impressive man you know”, he adds and you smile. “i'm sure you are”.
over the next few days, things move quickly. wonwoo makes the required arrangements and the meeting with the new lawyer is online because jeonghan likely putting someone to stakeout and watch wonwoo’s place in case you showed up. wonwoo is smart to keep the curtains drawn at all times so no one could peek inside either. the first priority was indicting jeonghan which would make him suspend him from working, and your father’s case would have more time and more time right now was good.
the next week jeonghan is indicted, and a legal notice is sent to his office courtesy of the impressive new lawyer that wonwoo hired. with the indictment jeonghan could not go anywhere, he couldn’t flee or travel and he’d be called for a formal court hearing on wednesday. as you got ready on wednesday morning to go to the court hearing because you were the one indicting jeonghan so you had to be there. you were nervous, standing in front of the mirror in wonwoo’s room. wonwoo was accompanying you too of course, he wasn’t going to let you go out there alone when you were going to go fight. you were going to show the world who you really were.
you reach the courthouse where the hearing will take place and it seems like everything is already on the news, the hoard of journalists and news reporters already crowding the place. you walk inside with wonwoo and head to the courtroom. as soon as you enter you see jeonghan, who clenches his jaw as he makes his way towards you, clearly upset and shocked.
“yn what the hell is all this”, jeonghan nearly shouts, his hand reaching out to grab yours but wonwoo grabs his hand instead, stopping him.
“watch it jeonghan”, wonwoo warns as jeonghan pulls his arm out from wonwoo’s grip.
“you’re not going to get away with all this”, you tell.
the hearing starts and you’re sitting with wonwoo’s lawyer and beside you on the other side is jeonghan and his lawyer.
“miss yn has made an indictment to mr. yoon over criminal activity and fraud”, the judge says, looking at you.
“yes your honour”, your lawyer fills in.
“what is the accused stand on this matter?”, the judge asks.
“my client mr.yoon is not guilty your honour”, jeonghan’s lawyer says and you scoff, glaring at him.
“does the plaintiff have evidence to support these claims?”, the judge asks.
“not yet but we are working on it”, your lawyer explains.
“i request the charges against my client to be dropped because they are completely baseless and defamatory”, jeonghan’s lawyer demands.
“given the nature of the accusations and that mr.yoon is also a well known person in his respective industry, i will give the plaintiff one week to gather sufficient evidence otherwise the charges and case will be dropped due to lack of evidence”, the judge grants before dismissing the court.
you’re laying wonwoo’s bed lost in thought. now the only problem was trying to find evidence. sure, you could still testify but without any evidence, your claims would be useless. there had to be a way and you were sure you were missing a vital piece of information. if only there had been cameras you think and it hits you. you get up in a gasp. that was it, the cctv cameras at your home. you get up, rushing to find wonwoo, who’s in the other room doing something on his computer.
“i figured it out wonwoo”, you tell and he looks up at you. “the cctv cameras you installed at my home, they would have captured jeonghan on it and what he did”, you say and you watch wonwoo’s eyes light up as he follows what you’re saying.
“he was at your house that night?”, he asks.
“yes! and the cameras would have picked it up”, you say.
“and it must have picked up on the audio too”, he states.
"audio?", you ask.
"yes, i installed one's that recorded audio too", he fills in. “yn this is amazing”, he adds “and the best part, i have access to the cctv cameras”, wonwoo adds.
“i just hope jeonghan didn’t get to them”, you tell, worried.
“no, he doesn’t know about them, i didn’t tell him”, wonwoo says.
“you are a genius”, you tell, leaning down to pepper his cheek with a kiss.
“i could say the same thing about you”, he tells, his hands finding your waist.
you smile, looking down at him, frowning when you notice the fingerprints on his glasses. your hands move up, carefully sliding them off as you clean them with the corner of your shirt, asking how he could even see as you gently put the glasses back on his face.
“we might have found some information from jeonghan’s computer and files”, wonwoo adds. “i’ll pass it on to my lawyer, he’ll handle it”.
“do you think we can pull this off?”, you ask wonwoo, your hands resting on his shoulders as you look down at him, wonwoo still seated on his chair.
“i think we can”, he tells, assuring you.
that night, wonwoo filters through the cctv footage to that night and just like you’d predicted, the whole incident where he came to your home and basically confessed what he was doing was recorded, the audio was impeccable too. jeonghan could kiss his life goodbye now. wonwoo hands off this evidence to his lawyer and now you can just wait.
it’s finally the day. you were ready but also nervous and anxious. a thousand what if’s went through your mind as you got ready that morning. you had been informed that your father would also be present at the court hearing since the case indirectly involved him. wonwoo drops you off at the court that morning.
“where are you going?”, you ask, grabbing onto his hand.
“the lawyer just called me, i need to quickly pick up something for him, but i’ll be back okay”, he assures. you nod and wait outside. there was still time for the hearing to take place in 30 minutes approximately.
wonwoo isn’t back even after your lawyer arrives. you’re constantly checking your watch and seeing the time, looking out to see if you can spot wonwoo but you can’t see him.
“i can’t see wonwoo? didn’t he come with you?”, the lawyer asks and you furrow your brows in confusion.
“what do you mean? he told me you called him asking him to get something”, you tell and he looks back at you equally confused. “i did no such thing”, he says.
you fish out your phone and try to call him but it goes unanswered. you try again but no answer.
“yn it’s time, let’s go”, your lawyer says and you put your phone back inside, hoping wonwoo was okay.
-at court-
“your honour, if you look here, you will see the cctv footage of mr.yoon and his men who were at my client's house on the night of the 8th. you can see the person, who was supposed to be yn’s bodyguard, lock up my client in the room and call mr.yoon, who arrives shortly. you can see clearly how mr.yoon threatened my clinet yn and even confessed to what he’s been doing, saying that he intentionally manipulated and betrayed yn’s father and set him up because he has an ulterior motive”, your lawyer states.
the video of that night plays and there’s no way that anyone would not believe you anymore. it was clear as crystal what jeonghan was up to now and his true motives were revealed.
“does the defendant have anything to say?” the judge asks.
“yes, i’d like to cross examine the client”, jeonghan lawyer says, stepping up and coming up to the witness stand where you were sitting. after your cross examination is done the judge announces that the final verdict will be delivered next week, on friday. given the high profile individuals that were involved in the case, a prompt but careful decision would be made. friday is a week away from now. the court is adjourned and you get up and leave, jeonghan purposely bumping into you as you go out, giving you a smirk.
you pick up your phone and call wonwoo again and the call is finally answered. “wonwoo where are you?”, you ask.
“hello is this someone that mr.jeon is acquainted with?”, the other person on the line asks, a female.
“yes, can i know who this is?”
“i’m calling from goodwill hospital, mr. jeon has been in an accident”, she says and your heart drops.
your feet start moving on their own as you run outside, pushing through the crowd of reporters and almost tripping as you try to hail a taxi, on your way to the hospital. you rush into the hospital asking for wonwoo at the front desk. you’re guided to his room, where the doctor explains that he was extremely lucky and only suffered from minor injuries. he would need a few days of rest and he could then be discharged. you’re instantly relieved to hear that but you’re still anxious.
you peek into his room, slowly sliding the door open as you walk in, taking in his state and you instantly teared up. you sit beside him, reaching out to hold his hand as you keep your head down, looking at your hand on top of his. a couple of minutes pass by and you feel a soft squeeze of your hand and you look up seeing wonwoo awake.
“wonwoo”, you are relieved he was awake. “are you okay-shit no that’s a stupid question, you’re obviously not okay”, you tell in a rush.
he sits up slowly, wincing in pain but otherwise keeping a straight face.
“what happened?”, you ask softly.
“i got jumped by jeonghan’s men. i only figured when i was already back at the apartment that the call was indeed not the lawyer”, wonwoo explains.
“shit”, you say.
“i shouldn’t have let you go, i should have insisted you stay”, you tell, feeling like this was all your fault now.
“hey, hey look at me”, wonwoo says.
“i just don’t want you to end up getting hurt because of me”, you tell.
“i’m okay yn, i’m a tough guy you know”, he says, trying to lighten the mood.
after he’s rested enough and the doctors deem him okay, he’s discharged and you take him home. you tell wonwoo all about the court hearing today and now the only thing you could do was wait.
-final hearing-
the media has been on fire the last few days, jeonghan’s case gaining the entire country's attention. but even then, people were 50/50 about the chances of who would win even though the evidence was pretty clear. but you could never tell, the law wasn’t always fair sometimes and you just prayed that it would be fair to you. wonwoo was much better now and was healing well and he insisted on accompanying you, even though you told him he should stay at home and rest.
you’re sitting in front, jeonghan on the opposite side and the court house was crowded, the media causing an uproar outside, eager to report every single second and eager to find out the final verdict of the case. the judge looks at you, and then at jeonghan before they announce the verdict.
“given the high profile of the case and the evidence submitted from both ends, we have carefully reviewed the evidence and points of this case. it has come to a unanimous decision that the defendant, mr. yoon jeonghan is found guilty and will serve ten years in jail and have to pay a fine as well for the damages done and emotional distress caused to the plaintiff.
you cover your mouth in shock. you did it. you won! you couldn’t believe it as you cover your mouth in shock, tears filling your eyes. your father looks at you and the look he gave you was nothing short of proud. you won, your father was going to be free and jeonghan was going to go to jail, he was going to get punished and things were going to be okay now.
as people start filtering out, you’re looking for wonwoo, whom you can’t seem to spot anywhere. you had to tell him. through the crowd, you manage to head out of the courtroom where people start congratulating you and your father. but you were only focused on finding wonwoo.
you run out, only to end up getting ambushed by all the news reporters and journalists, all of them eager to know your thoughts as they bombard you with questions.
“how do you feel yn?”
“how does it feel to know your father is free”
“please share a few words”
you were being bombarded with questions that were going straight through your head and that’s when you heard someone call out your name - wonwoo. you turn around, spotting him on the other side, a few feet away from you. you smile and run towards him, running into his arms as he picks you up and spins you around.
“we did it”, you whisper, your face inches away from his. “we did it”, he repeats, giving you a proud smile. you lean in, kissing him, not caring about what people were going to think anymore. wonwoo kisses you back with the same fierceness, like he was telling you that he was going to stand by you, so that you could conquer the world with him.
-epilogue-
after your father was dropped from all the accusations and was free, his company was slowly starting to gain traction again. the people were now in support of him, now more than ever and people wanted to know his story. but he always said one thing - that he wouldn't have been able to do it without you by his side. you ended up finally graduating college after your father approached them and they did give you extra credits for the trouble they caused you. you’d gotten your own office space in your dad’s building to work from and you were on your way to build your own company that stood for what it believed it.
you’re standing in front of wonwoo in your office with your arms crossed over your chest as you stare him down. he only stands, blinking down at you.
“what is it love?”, he asks.
“we can’t do this anymore wonwoo”, you tell and a wave of emotion seems to go through wonwoo’s face.
“do what?”, he asks calmly.
“this!”, you say, gesturing your hands between him and you.
“i don’t want you to be my bodyguard anymore”, you state and he furrows his brows, confused.
“what do you mean?”, he asks. “did i do something wrong?”, he asks, taking a small step towards you.
“i don’t need a bodyguard anymore”, you tell sternly.
“i beg to differ”, he says calmly.
“i want you to be my boyfriend”, you say and he raises a brow at this proposition.
“i thought i already was”, he mumbles as he bashfully pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“no more of this bodyguard business, you can be my full-time boyfriend now”, you tell and you can see the small smile playing on wonwoo’s lips.
“but isn’t a bodyguard and boyfriend in one an advantage?”, he asks.
“but i just want you to be my boyfriend instead”, you say, pouting.
“but the perks of having a bodyguard and a boyfriend is truly one of a kind”, he says, stepping closer as hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him.
“oh really?”, you ask, tilting you heard to the side.
“and what might that be?”, you ask, settling your hands on wonwoo’s shoulders.
“you know, i can protect you, plus you get to see my handsome face 24/7”, he says and you snort.
“what i know you love it. if i had a dollar everytime i caught you staring at me-”,
“shut up”, you tell, giggling.
“and the most important perk of all, free kisses”, he tells and you chuckle even more. “what? you’re always stealing kisses from me and-”, you cut him off by kissing him, which only seems to prove the point he was making.
“see, you can’t do that”, he tells, leaning in.
“why not”, you ask, playing along.
“because you’re distracting me from my work”, he says, leaning in and kissing you again.
“that’s why you need to stop this bodyguard stuff and just be my boyfriend instead”, you whisper against his lips.
“but then you won’t see me 24/7”, he tells.
“but then i can distract you”, you fill in.
“hm we’ll see about that love”, he says, before he captures your lips and kisses you breathlessly.
the end
taglist: @biboramp3 @naaaaafla @slytherinshua @weird-bookworm @icyminghao @blue-jisungs @kyeomyun @wootify @idubiluv @n4mj00nvq @joshuaahong @itsveronicaxxx @fallingforshua29 @frankenstein852 @lvlystars @mirxzii @minhui896 @odxrilove @ne0c0r3 @avaaahuang @wonwoos-wineparty @nerdycheol @wqnwoos @sdoulc @francenemolove @silxana @jhuuni @simjaehyunenjoyer @toplinehyunjin @rubywonu @yoozuku @wheeboo @porridgesblog @kurinnie @yyawnjun @mingycr @kokoiinuts @asyre @odetoshuaa @j-hutcherbaby @ihrtboo @3005isabel @shianamilk @livixxn @leekslou @itza-meee @wonvsmile @gyuswhore @kyeomofhearts @areebah411
#ahh#please lmk your thoughts on this <3!#sugar and spice by skye!#caratlibrary#k-labels#seventeen imagines#seventeen fanfic#seventeen fluff#seventeen scenarios#seventeen x reader#svt imagines#wonwoo imagines#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo x reader#svt fluff#svt x reader#jeon wonwoo imagines#jeon wonwoo x reader#jeon wonwoo fluff#svt scenarios#wonwoo scenarios#wonwoo fanfic#seventeen au#svt au
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
supernova ☆ riki nishimura
☆ hero! riki x fem! villain! reader ☆ summary: riki was the city's top hero, you were the top villain. when your archnemisis pulls up to your apartment late at night, all battered and bruised, you just sighed and took him in. you were a villain, not a monster! ☆ genre: superhero! au, good ol' patching up scene, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, a lil bit of angst ☆ warning(s)? injuries, riki has a panic attack, but it is very brief ☆ word count: 3.7k words ☆ i love this trope sm reblogs are appreciated! >_<
When you were awoken by the sound of banging on your door, you nearly killed someone. It was a dark and stormy night, with rain pouring down so hard that you had to put on your headphones.
But the moment that you saw Riki, your biggest enemy, standing at your doorstep all you could do was sigh, and let him fall into your arms.
"Not again."
By day, you were a regular high school student. You had a lot of friends, with a few admirers and confessions along the way. Like everyone else, you worked hard and kept up with your studies.
By night you were the city's top supervillain, aptly named Supernova for the bright and theatrical spectacles that were your terrorizing.
But while everyone thought you were some evil spawn, you were really just carrying on a family business. Thank your supervillain parents and supervillain grandparents. You had nothing personal towards the civilians that you terrorized, it was all just a part of the job. Because your family was scattered around in different cities for their supervillain activities, you lived on your own.
Enter: Riki Nishimura.
You knew the moment that you saw his grown-out bleached highlights and oversized black clothes, you knew he was up to no good.
He'd transferred to your high school in the middle of the school year, and unfortunately, you had far too many classes with him. It felt like wherever you went, he followed.
You didn't like him.
You knew you were popular at school, and maybe a quiet guy like Riki didn't have good experiences with the popular crowd, but did he have to treat you like you didn't exist? All he did was grumble under his breath something that no one could hear, before putting on his headphones and ignoring the world around him. Some courtesy would be nice!
Oh, you didn't like him one bit.
Which was why the moment that you realized that the new hot-shot superhero in town whose arrival suspiciously aligned with Riki's transfer to your high school was Riki Nishimura himself, you wanted to laugh.
The reckless, brash, and otherwise cocky, yet self-righteous and heroic, superhero persona Riki put on was so perfect, yet so unlike anything you've seen.
Riki Nishimura, who couldn't pay anyone any mind even if he was forced to, fighting crime and representing justice! Hilarious. Leave it to the most arrogant and condescending person to name themself Orion, after the brightest constellation in the sky.
You couldn't remember a single headline you read where he actually saved someone. So much for a so-called superhero.
And your identity was no secret to Riki either.
In the past few months, you and Riki had had multiple showdowns— on rooftops, over traffic, heck, even in Riki's own house. It was no surprise that he figured out pretty quickly that the popular girl that everyone liked was the worst supervillain in the city's history.
Glares in the middle of class, shoving you if you were in his way, and sometimes even purposefully following you to the bathroom just so he can wait outside to pass a few mean words to you. So childish.
The only thing keeping you and him from revealing each other's identities was the fear that the other would reveal your own identity.
Which was why you could almost 100% trust that Riki wouldn't say a word.
You could not stand Riki Nishimura, whether it be his civilian self or his superhero self.
However, something was changing.
Something bad, something bigger than anything you or Riki could even imagine.
There was a bigger, and much worse, villain organization in town.
Instead of pulling little pranks, terrorizing people, and just sometimes breaking in and robbing places, this new villain organization was legitimately hurting people.
You and Riki couldn't help that you were just teenagers, which was why in the first few weeks of this new arrival, you couldn't help but pay no mind to the new villains in town and focus on fighting each other.
But one night, when Riki didn't show up at your window like he usually would to fight you, you found yourself just a tad worried. Not that you cared about Riki. Had he finally resigned and given up on fighting you?
However, when you went on your nightly villain patrol a few hours later, you felt your heart drop to your stomach when you found Riki Nishimura in his hero suit slumped over at the back of a dark alleyway, covered in cuts, bruises, and blood, barely conscious.
"What the hell happened?" you asked, as you crouched down in front of him. You couldn't even tell if he was still alive, so you reached down to check his pulse. But the moment that your fingers brushed up against Riki's neck, he jerked away, immediately slapping your hand away.
"Stay the fuck back!" he yelled, suddenly fully awake and alert. Even with the mask over his eyes, you could see how red and blood-shot they were. "Don't— Don't fuckin' touch me!"
You lurched away immediately, standing back up on your feet.
And you watched in sheer horror as the one boy you've been fighting for months struggled to his feet, clutching his side. Under the moonlight you could see the streaks of red and skin peeking out under his suit. He was cut. And severely injured everywhere, for that matter.
You'd never forget the sound of Riki's ragged breaths and silent curses under his breath as he stumbled. And what startled you the most was how he clenched his fists, standing defensively.
"Fight me," he breathed, teetering on his feet. "I—I can still fight."
"Are you crazy?!" you cried. "I'm not going to fight you."
"What," Riki rasped. You could hear how strained his voice was, almost as if he had been screaming for hours. "Are you finally giving up? Are you admitting defeat?"
You scoffed. "No, of course not— Oh my god, are you oka—"
Riki was hunched over, clutching the gash on his side. A single stream of light hit his skin just enough for you to see how deep it was. Dark red blood stained Riki's gloved hands. He groaned in pain, a sound that you never wanted to hear again.
The way his shoulders and legs shook like he was about to fall over made your heart pound.
You reflexively reached out for him. "Riki, are you—"
"I said don't touch me!" he shouted, bringing his other hand to shield himself defensively. Yet the moment those words left his lips he fell to his knees. You could see how his face scrunched in pain, his brows furrowed and lips curled. "Just give me a second. I— I just need a second and we can fight."
"You're in no condition to fight," you crossed your arms. "I will not fight you."
But it seemed like your words fell upon deaf ears. Not because Riki wasn't listening, but because he collapsed over himself, falling unconscious.
That night you used your supervillain abilities for good, for the first time ever. But not too good, of course. You just took him to the hospital, making sure that both of you were in your civilian forms and saying that you found him unconscious in the alleyway.
You couldn't look him in the eye the next day at school.
You quickly realized that this wasn't a one-time occurance, because it seemed like every few weeks you'd find Riki severely injured. He'd always proclaim that he could still fight you, but both of you knew that that just wasn't possible.
It was the new villains in town, he finally admitted. They were purposefully targeting Orion, or Riki, for he was the city's main crime-fighter.
And for the first time ever, you actually felt bad for him.
At school, you'd see the way dark eyebags hung under his eyes, a heavy limp in his walk. Sometimes, he wouldn't even spare you a glance.
Since then, the streets have been more dangerous than they ever were.
So now, you couldn't even be surprised when Riki showed up to your apartment in the middle of the night, covered in injuries.
He was still in his hero suit, but there were rips everywhere, coupled with his torn up mask. His hair was wet, whether from the rain outside or from the sweat of fighting. Either way, he was shivering, small whimpers of pain leaving his lips.
The boy fell into your arms almost immediately, and as you pulled him into your peach-lit apartment, warmth kissing his skin, he murmured something.
"Shhh," you whispered into his ear. "Don't talk."
He was heavy, just as heavy as he was all those times you threw him across skyscraper rooftops. Yet as you carried his slumped body to your bathroom, he was as light as a feather.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled against your shoulder. His eyes were shut, his body devoid of all life and energy. Only his lips moved. "I didn't— I didn't know where else to go."
You only hushed him.
You set him down on your bathroom counter with a flick! of the lightswitch. It seemed like the moment that he was set down, Riki let his head fall back against the mirror behind him, his body giving out.
Under the warm light of your bathroom, you took a closer look at his face.
Despite the cut on his lip, Riki's lips were purple, probably from being out in the storm for so long. Other than the smudges of dirt and gravel on his face, you couldn't help but notice the streaks of redness streaming down his cheeks. Like he was crying.
You stared at him for a little bit longer. You'd seen him beaten down like this before. As a matter of fact, you've seen him battered like this so many times these past few weeks.
But what set all of those instances apart from now was that you couldn't see that glimmer of hope in Riki's eyes anymore.
All those times before, he would be knocked down and bruised up, yet Riki always had the spirit to stand up again and declare a fight.
But now, all he did was slump back in resignation.
It made your heart clench in your chest.
You were pulled out of your thoughts when you realized that Riki was probably more physically hurt than any teenage boy should ever be. You made a bee-line for your kitchen, fixing him a glass of water.
When you came back, you shoved the glass into his hands, forcing him to drink it.
Meanwhile, you started a warm bath for him. When you made sure that he could stand on his own, you gave him his privacy to bathe, with the reassurance that you'd be right outside.
And as the bathroom door shut, you sighed.
Riki shuddered as the warm water touched his skin, sinking down into the bathtub. It hurt to move. His entire body ached like hell. It felt like any wrong move would break his bones.
If someone told him that he'd be bathing in top supervillain Supernova's bathtub a few days ago, he'd lose his mind. But now after the events of tonight— being ambushed, tortured, and beaten by a group of villains before his escape— this felt ordinary.
Riki felt himself relax into the warmth, letting his eyes fall shut.
He felt disgusting. All sweaty and bloodied up, tears still staining his cheeks. The water did just enough to make him feel a little better. Still, even if he was far away from those villains, Riki couldn't shake off the feeling of their hands on him. It made the hairs on his neck stand up. He knew that he was safe now, for they couldn't reach him now. Yet Riki couldn't help but have that eerie feeling that he was being watched, that at any moment, they'd come back and hurt him.
Chills ran down his spine, like spindly cold fingers clawing at his skin. Riki's heart dropped.
He was safe. He knew he was. No one could hurt him. But why could Riki still hear their voices? His breathing became ragged again.
He's okay, he told himself. But his body told him otherwise.
And just as Riki pulled his knees to his chest, digging his nails into his palms as he rocked back and forth, a knock on the bathroom door pulled him out of his thoughts.
"Riki?" your voice rang from the other side of the door. "I got you some clean clothes. I'll leave them out here for when you're done."
"O-Okay," he called back.
His heart still raced in his chest. He bit on his lip.
"Wait," he said from inside the bathroom.
He could hear you hum from the other side.
"C-Can you stay in here with me?"
You didn’t need Riki to explain. After all, your entire family was supervillains. You’ve seen it yourself: how painful and traumatizing it could actually be.
So here you were, pouring bubble bath soap into the tub as Riki sat rigidly.
"Am I making you uncomfortabl—"
"No," Riki answered quickly, pulling his knees closer to his chest. "It’s just awkward."
You nodded understandingly, watching as the bubbles began forming in the water. They came in twos, then fours, and suddenly the entire tub was filled with bubbles.
As if he wasn’t the city’s only protector, and as if he was a young child, Riki watched, fascinated. He reached out to touch the foamy bubbles, staring at his hands.
"Are you okay with the bubbles?" you asked, but Riki only absentmindedly nodded. too occupied with the bubbles. Your lips curved. "How are you feeling now?"
Riki’s eyes flickered up to your face. He was about to shrug, but the aching feeling that he was beginning to forget returned. It struck through him, piercing through his skin in a way that made him hiss, keeling over himself.
Immediately, you rushed to his side. You reached out for him, and for the first time, he didn't jerk away.
Riki turned a little bit, twisting his torso just enough so that you could see his back.
And oh, his back was horrible.
You've seen some bad injuries, but the lashings, gashes, and slashes with red blood oozing out littered his skin. In fact, all across Riki's back and shoulder area you could see some pretty nasty gouges.
But that wasn't the most concerning part. Starting from the base of his neck and trailing down his side, a reddish-mauve colored scar was imprinted. On the inside of his arm, there was a collection of darker blemishes. They were not protruding from the surface, nor were they bumpy. The collection of blemishes continued, spotting his skin, until it reached a large patch.
You knew what it was just by the sight of it: burn scars.
How did he—
It seemed like Riki read your mind.
"I know, I know," he breathed. "Bad, isn't it?"
You nodded, your mind still racing. How the hell does a teenage boy even obtain such a severe burn scar?
"I got—" he let out a groan of pain as he turned back to you so that you couldn't see his back anymore. "I got the new ones earlier when those bastards—" you watched as he paused, his brows crashing together like he was remembering something he didn't want to— "when those bastards captured me."
Before you could question further, he continued. "Those burn scars are old."
"How did you get them?" you blurted.
He gave a sly look, almost with a curve in his lips. "I'm a hero, you know."
When you only gaped at him confused, the grin on his lips grew. "There was a burning apartment complex a few weeks ago. I had to rescue some victims, and got a few burns in the process. No biggie though."
You blinked.
Oh.
Maybe you were wrong about him. You shook off the oncoming guilt, focusing on the boy first.
"When you're ready, I'll patch you up," you said, rising to your feet to inspect your bathroom cabinet.
He hummed.
"Ack— That hurts—!"
"Stay still!"
Riki's physical state was much worse than you thought. It wasn't just his back. It was everywhere else.
He was covered head to toe with bruises and cuts, some of them so severe that you couldn't believe your eyes.
Somehow, even when he was literally injured he still managed to be an asshole. So much of an asshole that you had to give him candies to shut him up.
"How do I know these are not poisoned?" he asked you suspiciously, though with a sly little grin as if his lip wasn't busted. He examined the foil-wrapped candies in his palm as if it were a specimen of science.
You scoffed. "Suit yourself. Either you eat my poison candies or shut up."
He did both.
As you disinfected his wounds, you watched his expressions closely, being careful to hurt him even more.
You stood between his legs as he sat up on the bathroom counter. If punching him square in the face multiple times didn't count, this was probably the closest that you'd ever been to him.
It was completely silent now, so quiet that you could only hear his hisses of pain and the rain that continued to pitter-patter outside. Everything was so still, so quiet that you could almost hear his heart beat.
His wet hair dripped from time to time, a bead of water dripping onto the counter or maybe his chest. Maybe it was a bad time to think this, but you couldn't deny that Riki was a handsome boy. Maybe people at school would disagree, but his rugged and brooding look was always something nice to look at.
You focused on his biggest wounds first, and after patching and bandaging all of them up, you were at last tasked with the injuries on his face.
It was weird to see someone that he'd spent so much time fighting be so kind and tender with him. On most days that he was injured, Riki usually just sloppily cleaned himself up. He ran on pure ambition and passion, at the expense of his physical health. But here you were, gently cradling his face like he was made of glass, a type of warmth that he hadn't experienced in years.
So pretty, was all the thought. He'd be lying if he said that you weren't a formidable opponent. Strong, fiery, and just as much of an asshole as him. But pretty, too.
The feeling of your fingers gently pressing against his lips was weird, but he didn't mind it. The way you wet your lips unconsciously, swiping your tongue over them, made him feel all different things.
Whatever, he thought.
He pushed it all to the back of his mind.
But that was difficult in itself.
You were just so close. He'd been close to you before, when you fought him, but not like this. Not in such an intimate way.
Maybe it was how physically drained he was. Maybe it was the burden of the city weighing down on his shoulders, or the mental distress he underwent earlier. It could be the warmth of your apartment and the sound of raindrops on the window down the hall, or it could be his craving for affection, any at all.
But before he could even think, Riki's hand jerked out to grab your wrist, pulling it away from his lips. And in one swift movement, he smashed his lips onto yours.
All time stopped.
It was just the two of you frozen.
And then, you pulled away, resting your hands on the counters to stabilize yourself.
"We can't—" you whispered against his lips, a whimper coming from your lips when Riki's hand wrapped around your waist— "We can't do this."
"Why not?" he rasped, leaning into you again. You pulled away just enough for him to miss your lips.
"You're you, and I'm me," you shook your head. "It won't work."
Yet all your resolve crumbled when Riki's hand slithered up to gently push your head closer to his, his lip brushing against yours.
"It's just a kiss," he said coolly. Then, he pressed his lips against yours again, and the moment that they touched, you hungrily deepened the kiss. You gripped the countertops under your fingertips, leaning into him as you ravage his lips.
"And plus—" Riki murmured against your lips between kisses— "We're kissing as you and me, not Orion the hero and Supernova the villain—"
"Just shut up," you shut him up with your lips.
And he did.
"I have something to tell you."
The two of you settled into bed a while ago. You forced Riki to stay the night, because it was still too dangerous for him to leave right now.
It's quiet again. Although there was a wall of pillows separating the two of you, you couldn't help the beating in your chest. And you were sure Riki couldn't either.
It was getting late. You could feel that familiar burn in your eyes, the sensation you got when you were getting sleepy. You could tell from Riki's softer, much more slurred voice that he was, too.
"What's up?"
He was silent for a little bit. "It's about the villains. It's really bad—"
You shook your head. "Tell me tomorrow morning."
"No," he continued, and you could hear the strain in his voice. The desperation. "I— I need your help. The city is at risk, and—"
"Tell me tomorrow," was all you said. You could hear him sigh. "Riki, I promise that I'll help you. But you are exhausted right now. Tell me in the morning."
"Okay."
It took much longer for Riki to fall asleep than it did for you. He was awake until the sun rose, not even being gifted with the privilege of rest.
There were a few times where Riki almost started crying, blinking back his tears. It felt hopeless as thoughts raced through his head.
But then he'd hear you stir and feel you reach for him, and Riki would take it as a sign to slow down.
He didn't know if tomorrow would come.
He didn't even know if tomorrow would be kind to him.
But for some reason, the thought of you being beside him while it all fell down made him feel just a little bit better.
How strange.
#enhypen#enhypen fluff#enhypen x reader#enhypen fic#enhypen imagines#riki imagines#riki x reader#riki fluff#riki angst#nishimura riki#niki enhypen#niki fluff#niki imagines#niki x reader#riki enhypen#nishimura riki enhypen#star-sim#vanya-writes
679 notes
·
View notes
Text
Room 5 - Nicholas Alexander Chavez x fem!reader
summary: (Y/N) escapes to a quaint little hotel by the beach for a few days. On the first night, she realizes that the hot guy in the neighboring room is a... loud guy, and she finds that she can't seem to escape him no matter where she goes.
warnings: 18+, voyeurism (auditory), self-masturbation, fingering, unprotected p in v, cursing
required listening: 24 Hours by Sky Ferreira
word count: 17,415
a/n: sorry this one is so long (compared to my other fics), but I just had too much fun writing this one. I honestly could've gone writing more. If anything, I can just add on, but I think I wrapped a nice, little bow on this one. I hope you guys like it, and I would appreciate any and all feedback!! pls enjoy :)
reblogs and likes are appreciated and lets me know if you'd like to see more!
The boutique hotel looked absolutely adorable, white brick on the outside and only two stories — a tiny café and gift shop downstairs and the rooms up top, just steps away from the ocean. It sat between two tall condo buildings, which mostly housed an older crowd of out-of-state tourists.
I was in search of the perfect place for a weekend getaway, and this place seemed to check all the boxes. It wasn’t near any of the busy beach accesses where all of the rowdy high schoolers seemed to hang out at, and the pictures of the café seemed like it was straight out of an interior designer’s Pinterest board. This place, The Pearl, seemed perfect.
Actually, I had been looking forward to this weekend for a long while, having booked this trip about a month ago. Funnily enough, I lived just 30 minutes away from the beach but never had the time to just get away for a couple of days — until now.
After I checked in, I carried my weekend bag and backpack up the narrow staircase to the second floor, the wood creaking underneath my sandals. When I turned on the mid-level landing, that’s when I heard a second set of footsteps coming down from above. I turned my head up, my eyes falling on the drop-dead gorgeous man carefully shuffling down the steps.
Our shoulders brushed as I squeezed by with my luggage, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver that branched out from where our arms grazed.
“Sorry,” I whispered without missing a beat.
The guy smiled politely as he turned his head back, his big, brown eyes inviting, “You’re good.”
My heart skipped a beat hearing his warm, low voice. The stranger was ridiculously attractive, his muscles bulging out of the wife beater covering his torso, his tousled brown hair elegantly falling over his eyebrows. His smile, though, was what made my skin prickle — a wide, genuine grin that showed off his perfectly white teeth behind his pink lips.
I returned a polite smile, continuing my journey up the stairs before he could notice my blushing cheeks. When I arrived to the top of the landing, I saw that the second floor was T-shaped, the rooms in ascending order the further I walked down the hallway.
I turned the corner, immediately sensing the change in atmosphere compared to the row of rooms I had just passed. This section of the hallway seemed much more secluded, quiet, possibly because, indeed, it was in its own corner of the floor away from all the other rooms.
I passed by the one other door in the hall, reaching my room — 6 — at the end where a singular window accented the softly-lit hallway. Setting my bags down, I fumbled for my phone, scrolling through my text messages with the hotel manager for the code to my door. I appreciated the fact that the rooms had a code to enter instead of a plastic key card that I could lose in the sand.
As I input the code into the lock, the wooden staircases creaked as a set of footsteps became louder and louder making their way toward me. It was the same handsome man I had brushed shoulders with earlier, a backpack slung over his shoulder as he approached the only other door, room 5.
Our eyes met briefly, a flicker of recognition in his. “Good night, neighbor,” he said with a slight nod, that same smile that made my chest warm flashing across his face as he made his way inside his room, the heavy door falling closed behind him.
I let go of the breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. What are the odds the hot guy and I were staying next to each other? 1 in 5 it seems.
Shaking off the butterflies fluttering around my stomach, I finished inputting the code and dragging my bags inside the freezing room, stopping to admire the details of what my hard-earned paycheck had managed to spoil me with. The room was quaint, a neutral island color palette — the large bathroom and queen-sized bed to my right and the 70” flatscreen tv and closet on the shared wall to my left, a built-in marble counter all along the bottom.
The bathroom was my favorite: an art-deco flair with hints of coastal influence. The full shower was astounding in the best way possible — a beautiful mosaic pattern along the whole wall, double shower heads on opposite ends, and with enough space to possibly fit maybe 5 people. I could literally walk about ten steps between the two shower heads.
I walked back out to the room, setting my bags on the counter and starting to unpack, not in any particular rush to venture outside. As I organized my stuff — bikinis, pajamas, toiletries — I turned on the tv, flipping through channels and settling on HBO, Black Swan playing a few minutes in.
Enthralled by the movie and remembering I had a few snacks in my backpack, I changed into my pajamas and dug out a box of Lady Godiva chocolates from my backpack, climbing into bed and stretching out my arms and legs, excited to start my weekend getaway.
At some point, I had drifted off with a chocolate in my hand only to be awoken by a sound. I didn’t know what it was at first, choosing to ignore it and keeping my eyes closed, hoping I’d drift back to sleep. But it persisted, and it wasn’t a sound I had expected to hear — a woman’s moans.
My eyes fluttered open, thinking it might’ve been coming from the tv. After all, Black Swan did have a sex scene. However, I found the tv to be off. Maybe I had forgotten I turned it off myself before drifting off to sleep. Then, a low, drawn-out groan rumbled through, clear as day.
Oh.
Oh.
My cheeks flushed, burning at the realization of what I was hearing. I mean, I know a boutique hotel might not have the same amenities as a more established hotel chain, but you’d think thicker walls would have been a forethought. How could somebody planning to open a hotel not have thicker walls?
Again, I heard the moaning, and there was only one other room in the hallway that they could be coming from — room 5, the hot guy. I sat up in bed, heart pounding as I processed what was happening in the room behind the tv. The sounds were so clear you’d think they were having sex in the hallway.
In fact, I thought just that. There was no way that was happening right? I walked up to my room door and carefully peeked my head out, finding the hallway empty.
I retreated back into my room, my heart racing. Any other person would’ve probably turned the tv back on, or put on some headphones, something to block out the sounds, but what I did, I couldn’t tell anyone else about. I stood frozen, listening. I listened past the rhythmic porn-like moaning of the faceless woman, instead focusing on the low rumble of the hot neighbor guy’s voice.
The closet that shared a wall with his room beckoned my name, tempting me to inch closer. Before I knew it, my bare feet were shuffling toward the closet door, quietly swinging it open. The space was small, just big enough to fit a luggage rack and a few hangers up top, but the rhythmic thumping and guttural groans just behind the plaster called out to me.
Carefully, I leaned over the luggage rack, pressing my cheek against the cold, white wall. Every sound was clearer now — the creak of the bed slowing to a stop, the huffing coming from my neighbor, and the yelps coming from the mysterious lady. I could even make out some words.
“Bend over,” my neighbor spoke, his voice deep and seductive.
My stomach twisted hearing him speak in such a commanding yet intimate manner. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that a stranger so polite in passing could be so primal behind closed doors; though, wasn’t everyone?
“You’re so huge, Nicholas,” the mystery lady spoke back.
I know I shouldn’t have been listening, but I was just so enthralled. Did they know just how thin the walls are, assuming they’d block out most sound like I did? I couldn’t imagine someone knowing the walls were thin and still choosing to have sex, especially knowing there was an occupied room next door.
The plaster was cool under my cheek, refreshingly so as I could feel myself becoming warmer and warmer. The sounds of their erotic encounter seemed to vibrate through the wall, through me. Without noticing, I had squeezed my thighs together, my hand finding its way at the band of my pajama pants. As soon as I felt my fingertip slip under my underwear, I was jolted out of my trance. What was I doing?
Before I could feel any more guilty for lingering longer than I should’ve, I pulled myself away from the wall and scampered back toward the bed, choosing to ignore what was going beyond next door, my heart racing. Grabbing my headphones from my nightstand and slipping them on, I threw myself into the sheets and turned on my white noise playlist. But as much as I forced myself to focus on the therapeutic noise, my imagination wandered, picturing the faces my neighbor — Nicholas — might be making right now as he pleasured the woman accompanying him. Before I knew it, though, I had managed to fall asleep.
In the morning, I made my way down the staircase to the hotel’s tiny café, eager to start my day with a light, sweet breakfast. As I descended down the last few steps, I looked over to the sea of tables, hesitation in my heels as my eyes landed on Nicholas sitting by his lonesome as he enjoyed a cup of steaming coffee in one hand and a beat-up book in the other.
Swallowing the thought of what I did, and listened to, last night, I walked past him and approached the café counter, the smell of warm croissants and muffins enveloping my nostrils, a temporary distraction that I was grateful to experience.
“Hi,” I politely smiled to the employee, “Can I just get an Italian crème croissant with a hot green tea, please?” I quietly asked, not wanting to interrupt the quiet, calm atmosphere for the patrons of the café.
The barista nodded her head, inputting my order into the tablet register, “We’ll send it over to your table,” she smiled.
I slipped her the money for my breakfast, smiling, “Thank you so much,” and making my way through the slew of empty tables.
I settled in at the corner table on the opposite end of the room, wanting to be as far away from Nicholas as possible to avoid any awkward conversations. Though, I may have chosen the worst table for my plan, accidentally giving myself a clear, unobstructed view of Nicholas from across the room.
His hair was damp, not purposefully styled in any particular way but still somehow falling over his eyebrows in such a perfect manner. He wore a loose flannel with a few buttons loose, the shirt billowing open to tease just enough of the gold cross chain draping over the sculpted valley between his chest.
He hadn’t noticed me yet, completely enthralled by what he was reading — Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller. I was stunned by his choice of literature. There was an old fellow a few tables down reading the newspaper to get his local news, meanwhile this guy, Nicholas, was probably on some page where the author is describing, in excruciating honesty, a night he had with a prostitute just as easily as one could describe their morning routine. In a way, I was impressed, curious.
As I waited for my breakfast, fiddling with my fingers, occasionally looking at my phone, my eyes would glance over toward Nicholas, my gaze lingering just a beat too long. The way he achingly turned the page, the tip of his finger playing at the corner of the paper, or the way he’d carefully bring the mug of coffee up to his lips — it was all so titillating.
Thankfully, though, the barista came over with a small pot of piping hot tea and my croissant, interrupting my trance and carefully setting down the items in front of me. Just as she left, my eyes flickered up to Nicholas to find that he had glanced up from his book, a polite smirk at the corner of his lips when his eyes met mine, lifting his mug in a silent, “Cheers.”
Not sure if I should wave or say hi or flash a toothy smile, I settled for a polite closed-mouth smile, lifting my mug back at him before quickly focusing my attention to the food in front of me as my cheeks grew warm. The greeting wasn’t graceful at all, but how could I focus on being graceful knowing I eavesdropped on his privacy just last night? If I was awkward at all, I figured it was my subconscious trying to punish me.
I served myself some tea and picked at my croissant as I looked out the window to the occasional family or couple walking down the street, all carrying their beach items and taking their time to get to the sand. I’d even glance around to the other patrons at the café. Though, I think part of me wanted to see if any of the girls would join Nicholas at his table and reveal herself to be the high-pitched moaner from last night. However, nobody ever did join him. Was he here alone? Or maybe she had taken the morning to be by herself.
Every impulse in me was begging me to take just one more look at Nicholas, to savor his image one last time, but I fought it. Everything except anything in Nicholas’s direction became intriguing to me. The checkered tile on the ground, the promotional poster on the window that I could barely read because of the sunshine striking through it, the older fellow enjoying his newspaper — I didn’t think I’d find myself focusing on the details of such things trying to avoid the gaze of some guy I had talked to for no more than 10 seconds, maybe less.
When I finished up, I quietly tidied the table, collecting all of the dishes and brushing off any crumbs, making my way out of the café and toward my car.
The breeze was refreshing, a nice whisper against my cheeks. I opened the trunk, staring at all of the beach gear I had to carry by myself. It was a struggle, but I managed to carry everything in both my arms — umbrella, picnic, basket, beach chair, headphones, blanket — using every crevice of my upper body to anchor something to me so it wouldn’t fall on the way over.
Thankfully, the beach access was right next to the hotel, and the path to the open sand wasn’t too long. When I got to the end of the path, I was grateful for having woken up early for the opportunity to pick a spot in an otherwise empty beach, a few umbrellas and chairs here and there from the condo occupants. I chose a spot that didn’t have any people too close by for maximum relaxation, carefully setting everything down on the sand.
I stabbed my pink, frilly cabana umbrella into the ground, laying out my beach blanket and beach chair in the shade, sliding everything else onto the corners of the blanket so the breeze wouldn’t pick the fabric up and blow sand toward me.
The water was calling my name, the light green water perfectly sparkling against the morning sun. But before I could strip my clothes off and jump in, I looked around to see if anybody would be looking as I pulled off my clothes. I didn’t see anybody particularly interested in my arrival, so I quickly pulled off my jean shorts and tee to reveal my glittery brown bikini set underneath. Before I became too hyper aware of my body, I walked toward the water, instead letting the feeling wash over me just as the waves of deliciously cold seawater did.
The occasional squawk of seagulls, the sun warming up my skin as it rose higher and higher in the sky and the sound of the waves crashing was all perfect. This moment was all I wanted out of this weekend. No distractions, no work — just me and the ocean. Needless to say, I was very excited to be able to repeat this routine for the next couple of days.
I continued walking into the water until I was chest-deep to let the ocean devour me whole. The feeling that a wave could crash over me entirely was exhilarating. The water slowly picked me up by my feet as I hopped around.
I lingered for a few more minutes in the water, splashing water around or searching for little fish before stepping back out once my fingers started to wrinkle. As I strutted out of the water, though, I saw the familiar shape of somebody relaxing in a chair just a few feet next to my umbrella — Nicholas.
I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, he was a guest in the hotel, too, after all. Why else would someone book a room in a hotel by the beach if they wouldn’t find themselves relaxing in the sand? But did he have to set up next to me when there was an entire football field of available space?
Meekly and careful not to trip or stumble on the way over, I walked toward my umbrella, fighting the urge to steal a glance at Nicholas, but from the corner of my eye I could see he sat there with his chest exposed. I had to let myself give in; what was the harm in a little peek?
He sat reclined in his chair, his skin deliciously glistening under the killer sun as he took it in. His hair was lightly brushing across his face from the sea breeze, like Mother Nature herself was playing with his hair. Nicholas’s long legs stretched out in front of him, his feet digging slightly into the sand. Both hands rested lazily on the arm of the chair, open. It was like he wanted to take up as much space as he could. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes; I couldn’t tell where he was looking or if he was looking anywhere at all. He radiated a kind of tranquility, as if the ocean had washed away any burdens he carried, something I hoped to experience myself this weekend.
I realized I was staring, my breath caught somewhere between awe and curiosity. I darted my eyes away, afraid I might be caught, which is absolutely the last thing I want.
Growing cold from the breeze brushing my wet skin, I grabbed my towel, drying myself off and squeezing the water out of my hair, mindful of turning myself from Nicholas so as to not flick any water droplets his way or have him think I was trying to grab his attention deliberately. Maybe he just sat there without knowing he had set up next to me. After all, I was in the water this entire time.
As I settled in, I brushed my wet hair over the back of my chair and reached for my picnic basket, pulling out my headphones, sunglasses, and my current read, White Oleander. I didn’t want to distract myself with any energetic music, instead opting to listen to the White Oleander movie soundtrack for the perfect accompaniment to the book.
I read through the chapter I had left off in, but I found myself having to reread some paragraphs, even entire pages, every time I saw Nicholas shift in his seat from the corner of my eye every few seconds. Even the way he jittered his knee up and down was distracting, almost like he wanted to grab my attention. After some minutes, he stood up from his chair, letting out a groan as he slowly stretched his arms and walked toward the water, and I silently thanked the universe for finally letting me have a few minutes to myself.
Though, I couldn’t help but occasionally glance up from my book to observe Nicholas in the water. The sun accentuated his muscles in an almost picturesque way, the stark shadow falling under each crevice of his body perfectly. He cut through the water like a knife as he walked deeper and deeper in the water, splashing water over his chest and shoulders, eventually dipping himself under the water to wet his hair. When he reemerged, the surface broke with a powerful splash, Nicholas throwing his head back and brushing his hair back with his hands.
Shaking myself out of Nicholas’s trance, I buried myself back in my book, trying not to look back up to him and letting myself get lost in the story, and for a while, I did. However, the universe seemed to like playing cruel jokes. About two chapters later, a shadow crossed my face. Curious to know if it was a bird or somebody’s umbrella flying away, I looked up to find Nicholas standing in front of me with a small grin.
“Good book?” He asked, drying his hair with a towel.
Shocked, I almost couldn’t form any words, but I managed to spit out a normal-sounding sentence, “Uh, so far, yeah, but I’m more familiar with the movie.”
“I’ve never seen it,” he confessed, dragging the towel up and down his dripping torso, almost deliberately. “Do you recommend it?”
I was quiet first, trying to clear my head of any thoughts of the night before that kept replaying in my mind. My eyes drifted up from his torso to the smile on his face, his straight white teeth in full show. Thank god I had my sunglasses on
“Totally. The dialogue in that movie is…” I trilled my lips, searching for the right word, “poignant.”
“Sounds raw,” he threw the towel over his shoulder, resting his hands on his hips, his lat muscles flexing outward like wings. “Is it your favorite movie?” He asked as he sat down in his chair, shifting until he found a comfortable position.
“One of,” I replied, turning my head to face him.
“I’ll check it out then,” he smiled, grabbing Tropic of Cancer out from under his chair and spreading it open.
“There’s a movie on that one, too,” I pointed to the book in his hands.
“Really?” He cocked an eyebrow, looking at the cover of the paperback, like he had forgotten what book he was reading. But then, a cheeky grin grew on his lips, “Did you like it?”
I couldn’t help but stifle a chuckle, knowing what Nicholas had meant. “I wouldn’t know; I’ve never seen it,” I smiled, turning my head back to the book in my hands, having almost forgotten about it.
All I heard back from him was a quiet chuckle before he settled back into his chair, the both of us reading their respective books.
After a half hour, I tossed the book and my sunglasses back into the basket and walked out over to the water. I paused at the dry edge of the sand, letting the water nip at my toes, trying not to picture Nicholas behind me. He could have been glancing at me as I made my way over, but he could also be looking at the sky, or the book in his hands, or maybe even his phone. As much as I wanted to peek over my shoulder, I continued forward, letting the sea swallow me.
I lingered, brushing my fingertips over the surface as I planted myself in knee-deep water, clutching the sand underneath my toes as it dissolved under me. As the water hugged my calves, I searched the water for anything I could find — maybe a lost pair of sunglasses, some little fishes, or maybe a conch laying at the bottom of the ocean floor. To no avail, I slowly started to retreat from the water, picking my head up to find Nicholas was looking forward, hiding behind his sunglasses again.
I didn’t let the fact he was looking over to my direction affect my ability to walk properly. After all, he could be looking past me. Maybe under those sunglasses he had his eyes closed. I wouldn’t know. However plausible any of those situations were, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched.
Upon approaching my chair, I wrapped myself in the damp towel, deciding that my time at the beach for today would be over for now. Slowly, I started to pack up my things, but I honestly didn’t know how I was gonna carry everything back now that I was damp and shivering. I tried juggling some of the things in my arms, but occasionally something would slip from my grasp. I really tried not to seem so helpless, but when the umbrella slipped out from under my arms with a loud thump, I knew keeping up that ruse wouldn’t work.
“Need help?” I heard Nicholas’s voice behind me.
I turned around, catching him push his sunglasses to the top of his head to show off his crinkled eyes, smiling. It seemed to be more from amusement at watching me struggle, not smiling from politeness.
I struggled to hold onto everything in my arms, “No,” I shook my head, laughing nervously. “I mean, I managed to bring everything over in the morning.”
An exhale escaped his lips before he tossed the book to the sand and stood up from his chair, making his way over with a satisfied look, “Let me help.”
I bit my lip, debating if I should let him help or to just push him away so I wouldn’t have that constant reminder of hearing him have sex in my head. Before I could answer, though, Nicholas grabbed the beach chair out from under my arm and picked the umbrella up off the floor.
“Thank you,” I mumbled as I adjusted the remaining items in my arms, now much more manageable without having to carry the bigger things.
“No problem,” he spoke in a low tone, that same tone I overheard when he said ‘Bend over’ to the woman in his bed last night.
My breath caught in my throat. Suddenly, I felt inexplicably warm, like the back of my neck was on fire. His expression was soft, casual, like the same man I had run into in the hallway yesterday, not at all like the man I heard in his room in a false sense of privacy.
We walked back toward the hotel, the sand kicking up behind us with every step. I was too afraid to say anything to him at all after remembering the way he spoke to his late night companion.
“So, are you from around here?” He spoke up, his voice cutting the tension that only I seemed to be aware of.
“Kind of,” I replied, hiding my face behind my damp hair, “I live 30 minutes out. I just came here on a solo-trip for a few days to escape. You?” I didn’t expect the question to slip from my lips, but in a way, I guess, I wanted to coax information out of him. Maybe if I knew more about him, that pang of guilt in my stomach would leave on its own.
He stifled a chuckle, “Not at all. I’m from Colorado, actually.”
I raised an eyebrow, surprised at the answer, “Wouldn’t California beaches be closer to you, maybe even look better than this old shore?” I looked back out into the beach, admiring its charm, but even then, I know it wouldn’t compare to a California beach.
“Actually, I live in LA, so I go out there all the time. I guess, I just wanted to visit a different place,” he answered.
I was surprised at his honesty, but I scoffed, not believing that any person from out of town would want to come here willingly, “Well, you picked a different place, indeed. Not much goes on around here, except when it’s spring break.”
Nicholas stifled a warm chuckle, “Yeah, I think I read that online.”
A part of me wanted to prod. Was he single? Who was that girl from last night? Another guest? The only appropriate question that I could think of that didn’t sound too suspicious was, “Are you here on a solo-trip, too?”
He nodded his head, “Yeah, I do a lot of solo travel. There’s a certain freedom in not having to worry about anyone else except yourself.”
I glanced over to him and saw a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he looked over to me. Something fluttered in my chest, or maybe it was just the droplets of water trailing down from my head.
“Sounds liberating,” I managed to spurt out before the long pause became too awkward.
“It is, but sometimes it’s nice to share it with someone else, even for a little bit,” he said, his words hanging in the air.
I didn’t dare reply. I wasn’t sure if he was alluding to our current moment or maybe to the similar encounters of last night he has with women during his trips. Of course, there’s no way he’d know that I knew what he did behind closed doors, but what if he did?
“Yeah,” I absentmindedly agreed to his statement, eager to cut the conversation short.
We arrived at my car. I opened the trunk with my keys that were in my picnic basket, watching as Nicholas bent over to place the umbrella and chair inside, then grabbing everything from my arms and setting them beside each other, closing the trunk.
“My name’s Nicholas,” he held his hand out for me to shake.
That’s when I realized that he had never introduced himself. The only reason I knew his name was because I had my ear pressed against the wall just as his lady friend from last night had moaned it out of her lips.
I hesitated for just a fraction of a second before breaking through that one-sided tension and reaching out to shake his hand, his warm palm sending a shiver up my arm, “(Y/N),” I introduced myself, meeting his gaze for a second or two before looking down at my feet.
“Pretty name,” he smiled.
Blushing, I shyly said, “Thanks,” retreating my hand from his grasp and whipping back a strand of wet hair behind me.
Nicholas lingered a moment longer, the soft curve of his smile inviting me to hold his gaze. “Any chance you’d wanna get a drink later?”
I blinked, my mind scrambling for a response as the question hung between us. This stranger, Nicholas, was never meant to be more than just some nameless blur that happened to also be a guest at the same hotel I was staying. We were only supposed to bump into each other a few times in the hallway, never going into conversation and being fine with that. Now, here he was, asking me if I wanted to have a drink with him.
I kicked my feet nervously, looking down, afraid to look him in the eye as I turned down his offer, “Actually, I have plans.”
His brow lifted slightly, an amused look on his face. “Solo plans?” he asked, clearly poking fun at my earlier words.
I couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, despite my nerves. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Fair enough,” he said, his tone casual but with a glimmer of understanding. “But if you change your mind…” he leaned in the tiniest bit, some tiny droplets from his hair dripping onto my skin, “you know where I’m staying,” a mischievous smirk at the end of his lips.
I felt my stomach jump at his words, catching the double meaning. He lingered a bit too long, like he was testing me, before he pulled back, still smirking.
I nodded, “Yeah, I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”
I watched as he walked past, sauntering back toward the beach. The way his shoulders shifted as he walked, relaxed yet deliberate, made it impossible to look away. The nerve of him, the audacity to be this calm, this magnetic. Maybe it’s because I’m never forward with people I just met, especially if I think they’re attractive, but I couldn’t wrap my head around the swagger Nicholas oozed. It was like he was aware of the effect he had on me.
Desperate to wash away the sand in my crevices, I trotted toward the hotel entrance, going up the stairway and to my room. I felt relief when the cold air of the room hit my face, pulling my hair away from the back of my neck so the air could creep its way and bring some relief to my flustered self. My head buzzed, replaying anything having to do with Nicholas — the way he dried his towel in front of me, his soft chuckles, even the way he walked.
Get it together, (Y/N). He’s just a guy. Just a guy you won’t see ever again after this weekend. Ever.
I sighed, dragging myself to the shower and stripping the wet bikini off my body and letting it fall to the floor without a second thought.
I was grateful the shower was huge, that way I didn’t feel as suffocated with the warm water steaming up the glass. However, each time I closed my eyes to let the water fall on my face, all I could picture was Nicholas’s charming smile, all I could hear in my head was the way he said ‘Bend over’ to the girl in his bed last night, and suddenly, I could feel a tension pool low in my belly.
Fed up, I turned the faucet knob to cold, shuddering and gasping loudly the moment it fell down my spine. It might’ve been drastic, but it did help. All I could focus on was trying not to tremble under the cold stream of water enveloping me instead of focusing on a certain man.
Once I was done with my shower, I wrapped my hair and body in a towel each, padding out into the cold room, my ankles shuddering at the cold floor beneath me. I changed into a casual set of clothes, thinking I’d probably go out for a walk later. As I dried my hair with the towel, I made my way over to the window, looking out toward the beach to see Nicholas still lounging out in the sand. He was splayed out on the chair, legs wide open as he leaned back and looked out into the water.
Tired of my mind drifting to him, I jumped into bed and put on my headphones, opening up Hulu to catch up on shows. Before I knew it, hours had gone by and it had become nightfall.
I walked to my luggage resting on the built-in counter, zipping it open to pull out a bag of chips I had bought before arriving. That’s when I heard a light knock on my door. I froze at the sound, too scared to shuffle over and check who it was.
“(Y/N), you there?” I heard Nicholas’s voice call out. I didn’t answer, standing still, my heart almost pounding out of my chest. “If you are, I’m heading over to the bar across the street, if you wanna join me,” he calmly spoke through the door, his voice cool and collected.
After a bit, I heard his feet shuffle away, becoming fainter and fainter. I still didn’t dare move an inch, paranoid he might’ve pulled a fake-out and is actually still standing outside my door. I sat on the counter, debating his invitation, but I decided against it. I’m not exactly sure why; any other girl would already have been out the door by now. I just had to trust my gut on this.
Later that night, at about 1:30AM, I found myself still awake, quietly scrolling Instagram on my phone. That’s when I heard the loud giggles of a woman outside in the hall, followed by a deep shush, the giggles falling to a quiet mumble as I heard a door open and quickly fall closed. I ignored the sounds, continuing to scroll and catch up on posts I missed during the day.
Some minutes pass by, about 10. That’s when I heard the bed on the other side begin to thump against the wall, a lady slowly starting to moan. The moans sounded different, belonging to another woman. Then, the all-too-familiar grunts coming from Nicholas started to join in.
I couldn’t reach for my headphones to drown out the sounds of sex coming from the other side; my headphones had died just 30 minutes earlier, now charging on the outlet above the counter. Tossing and turning in bed, I burrowed myself under the covers, hoping it would make some barrier, but to no avail.
Irritated, I walked over to the counter, checking to see if my headphones had any juice that I could use even for just a few minutes until I fell asleep. Just as I reached to disconnect them from their charger, that’s when I heard Nicholas’s voice rumble through the wall.
“You’re so hot,” he said, his tone thick with pleasure.
I stood there frozen, my hand still hovering over my headphones. The more I heard Nicholas speak, the more I found myself inching closer toward the closet. My heart was racing, beating faster the moment I opened the closet doors, carefully stepping inside and resting my cheek against the shared wall.
I knew I shouldn’t have been listening in, again, but I couldn’t stop myself. It was this urge that I had to follow through with. I closed my eyes for a moment, listening past the girly moans and searching for Nicholas’s voice. My chest grew tighter, my thoughts beginning to spiral.
“Just like that,” he growled.
Had I said yes to drinks, would that have been me in there? Would I be the one moaning under him instead of the mystery girl inside? My stomach tightened at the thought, frustrated. I’m not sure why I was letting it get to me like that. Maybe because hindsight is always twenty-twenty. But just knowing that it might’ve been me Nicholas said all those things to had I just agreed to drinks… It drove me crazy.
“Say my name.”
My body tensed at his words. Somewhere between spiraling and intrigued by the events happening on the other side, I had closed my eyes, achingly moving my hand to my shorts, slipping it under the waistband. What if I just pretended it was me he was saying all those things to?
I clenched my teeth, feeling a heat bubbling low in my belly as it slowly rose up to my chest. The sound of Nicholas’s voice; he sounded so close yet we were separated by this thin wall. It was maddening. I slipped my fingers under my underwear, grazing them over my damp self. I covered my mouth with my other hand, proactive about not wanting to be heard from the other side just as I heard them.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” Nicholas groaned on the other side.
My breathing became deep, my nostrils pushing out all the air that couldn’t leave my mouth. As my fingers found my throbbing bud, I quietly whimpered out, pretending Nicholas was saying those words to me. I rubbed myself in small circles, bucking my hips into my fingers.
On the opposite side of the wall, Nicholas’s groaning had become guttural, primal. The more the headboard thumped against the shared wall, the more powerful his movements had become. At one point, I thought something might fall off the wall from my side of the room.
As I slipped a finger, then another, inside myself, my breathing became erratic. I imagined Nicholas taking me, right now as I am, hard at the thought that I had been listening in on his sexual escapades. Maybe he’d push me up against the wall, cornering me so that I might not escape him. He seems like the type to want to be in control, and I’d be happy to give it to him.
I pumped my fingers slowly, at first, but then picked up the speed to match the thumping on the wall. The tension in me began to build tighter and tighter. I was so close to collapsing in pleasure, but the moment I heard a loud moan escape the woman’s lips from the other side, I was taken out of my imagination completely, remembering that it wasn’t me he was having sex with.
My eyes ripped open, realizing what I had been doing. I pulled my fingers out and collected myself, shamefully walking out of the closet and reaching for the headphones on the counter. I couldn’t believe that I had been pleasuring myself to the sounds of somebody else having sex. Even more embarrassingly so, I didn’t even arrive to a climax, so I couldn’t even say it was worth it.
I climbed back into bed, trying hard to ignore the sounds coming from the other side and slipping on my headphones, putting on anything that would distract my mind.
The next day, I didn’t wake up as early as I had liked. I ended up falling asleep pretty late, almost 2:30 in the morning, which was not my usual bedtime, clearly. But it was 12PM, still enough time to enjoy a light brunch before officially starting the day.
I changed into some loose clothes, making my way down to the café. Even though I felt guilty about last night, I felt ok enough to confidently walk into the café knowing Nicholas wouldn’t be there. Either he’d be too tired from his late night drinking and stayed in, or he would’ve started his day earlier and already had his coffee for the day. And when I entered the area, I found myself to be correct. He wasn’t there.
Comfortably, I ordered the same meal from yesterday, a croissant and a pot of tea, taking my seat at the same table. What can I say, I’m a creature of habit. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
Almost as soon as I sat down, the barista came over with my things, setting them down with a polite smile. Tired and hungry, I pulled a chunk out of the croissant and placed it into my mouth, savoring its sweet taste. I enjoyed my first meal of the day calmly and slowly, relaxed to know I wouldn’t bump into Nicholas right now. Maybe I’d have a few hours to myself before I did. But of course, my peace was short-lived.
As I picked at my food, the front door to the hotel chimed. I was too focused on pouring myself the last few ounces of tea into my mug to look up, but I didn’t have to. A familiar presence approached my table, “Mind if I join you?” Nicholas asked.
I looked up, my eyes locking onto his. He had that oh-so charming smile plastered on his face — innocent, as if he wasn’t the one partially responsible for keeping me up late.
“Sure,” I said, pulling the pot away from my mug.
He pulled up a chair from the neighboring table, sitting down across from me while his gaze flickered down at my half-eaten croissant. “You like taking your time, don’t you?”
I felt a rush of heat creeping up the back of my neck at his casual teasing. He was wearing a faded tee, not from age but one that looked like it had been drying out in the sun too long, his gold cross chain hidden under the collar. I’m sure he looked good in anything he wore.
“Don’t you?” I asked without missing a beat.
Nicholas stifled a smirk, tapping his finger against the table, “So what’d you do last night?”
I almost choked on my own spit at the question, clearing my throat. Dear god, please let me not stumble over my words. “Not much, why?”
He sharply inhaled, like he was unsure if he should answer, “I had knocked on your door to invite you out to the bar again, but you didn’t answer.”
I stifled a chuckle, shrugging my shoulders, “Why? Were you afraid I was doing something better?”
Nicholas’s fingers played at the edge of my plate, smirking. “I figured you were out walking or something,” he smiled.
“Well, I planned to,” I picked at my croissant, ripping off a tiny piece and placing it in my mouth, “but I ended up staying in.”
“Oh? You stayed in?” He shifted in his seat, thinking about his next words. “Sleeping?”
I calculated my answer. I didn’t want him to be embarrassed about the fact that I could hear him having sex the past two nights. “Yeah, early night,” I kept it short, hoping he’d drop the subject or, at least, change the topic.
I wasn’t sure if he believed me, but I didn’t care to elaborate. His presence was disarming enough without dredging up last night’s… intrusive thoughts. Instead, I took another sip of tea and focused on not meeting his gaze.
“So, then why’d you come down here so late in the morning?” He asked, a grin playing at his lips.
I stumbled on my words, trying to find an answer, Nicholas becoming more amused and entertained the more I stumbled. Was he waiting around for me? Did he know his proclivities had kept me up? Did he know I could hear through the walls?
“Lazy morning,” I shrugged my shoulders. He stifled a chuckle, accepting my answer without too much kickback. “What about you?” I asked, turning the tables on him. “What did you get up to last night?”
His grin didn’t falter. If anything, it grew sharper, and he leaned forward just slightly, resting his forearms on the table. “Me? Nothing much,” his finger twiddled near my croissant, pushing around the tea spoon next to it, “I had a drink or two. A little company.” His eyes flickered up to meet mine.
I swallowed hard, the tension between us thickening. His choice of words hung in the air, deliberate and calculated. He knew exactly what he was doing dangling that tidbit of information in front of me, seeing if I’d bite, but I wasn’t going to.
Taking a sip of my tea, I pretended to brush off his words, “Sounds like you had fun,” I spoke casually, keeping my expression neutral.
Nicholas tilted his head, watching me closely. “I would’ve had even more fun, but I had some plans fall through,” he paused, “I had to improvise.”
Oh, the calculation in his words were driving me mad, especially because I didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of baiting a specific reaction out of me. Was I right? Could that have been me in his room last night if I decided to go out with him?
I set the cup down as calmly as I could manage, but inside, I was shaking, “Doesn’t seem like you had any trouble improvising, then.”
For a moment, Nicholas’s fingers stopped tapping against the plate, that infuriating smirk returning. He leaned back into his chair, amused, “You heard, didn’t you?“
My eyes nearly fell out of my head, but I tried to keep it cool, "Heard what?"
His laugh was soft but full of certainty. "Come on, (Y/N). I heard you watching a movie the other night. These walls,” he gestured lazily toward the ceiling, “are paper thin; it was like I was in your room watching it with you.” He leaned toward me, resting his arms on the table again, “That’s why you woke up late, isn’t it?"
God, I wanted to shrivel up and die right then and there. It was absolutely infuriating how he could figure me out so easily. But my suspicions were confirmed — he did know, this entire time, and he still decided to have loud sex knowing anybody in the neighboring room could hear. And he had no shame about it!
My face burned with embarrassment, and l avoided his gaze like my life depended on it. "I didn't hear anything," I stammered, lying so poorly I might as well have just admitted the truth. “I’m a deep sleeper.”
Nicholas tilted his head, that insufferable smirk deepening. “A deep sleeper, huh?” His voice dripped with amusement. He rested his chin in his palm as he studied me like I was some kind of puzzle. “Alright, I’ll take your word for it.”
My grip tightened on the edge of the table, desperate to regain some semblance of control.
“For what it's worth...” Nicholas pushed back his chair and stood, smiling down at me. He leaned down toward me, his tone softening just enough to send a shiver down my spine. "If I'd known you were listening, I might've put on a better show." He took a small bite of my croissant, dusting the crumbs off his hands and making his way toward the door, winking at me before he exited.
Unable to fathom what had just happened, I stayed planted in my seat. Did he seriously just say that? My thoughts spiraled. Was this a game to him? Could he tell just how truly flustered I was by his teasing? Was I really that easy to rile up?
I pushed my plate and mug away from me, hoping to regain some space to avoid feeling suffocated by the remnants of his presence that Nicholas had left behind in his wake. And yet, I couldn’t deny the pull he had on me. No matter how hard I tried to push it down, to deny the heat in my cheeks and the butterflies in my stomach, it was there. Nicholas was under my skin.
I tried to avoid running into him the rest of the day, to suffocate him out of me like one would a parasite, but to know you’re avoiding someone, you’d have to be on the lookout, on your toes. Every corner I turned, I checked to see if he was there. Every room I entered, I scanned around looking for his distinct tousled hair. On the beach, I hid behind my sunglasses, scanning the shore for the familiar build of him. Finding him nowhere, I relaxed a bit, choosing to free myself and going for a short walk along the water.
I let the water lap around my ankles, rhythmically enveloping them as I slowly walked along the borderline empty beach. I picked up a few shells that caught my eye — only the colorful, unique ones. In fact, I kept walking, walking, and walking until it became evening, the sun setting over the beach, slowly but surely.
I returned to my spot, sitting back and admiring the colors of the sky. In fact, I was so relaxed, huddled under my towel, that I may have yawned once or twice. As I continued to look out into the horizon, I felt a cold tap on my shoulder, turning my head up to see who was interrupting my moment of relaxation. Of course, by now, I already knew who.
Nicholas stood there, towering over me with a pair of beers in his hand, holding one out for me. “Pretty, right?” He asked with a smile, looking out into the purple water.
I glanced at the beer in his outstretched hand before shifting my gaze to his face, the fading sunlight casting an orange glow over his sharp features. I kept my expression neutral, taking the beer from him without a word. He took that as an invitation to plop down in the space next to me, stretching his legs out and taking a sip from his can.
We sat there in silence for a while, the only sounds being the gentle crash of waves and the occasional chatter of distant beachgoers. It was… oddly peaceful, almost enough to make me forget about the tension that seemed to follow us — or should I say, me — like a shadow. Maybe, also, because I was a little sleepy.
“So, did you find what you were looking for today?” Nicholas asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
I frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”
“You were walking up and down the beach for hours,” he said, motioning toward the small pile of shells I’d collected.
My mouth grew to a smile, cocky, “You were watching me for hours?”
For the first time, Nicholas stammered on his words, and it was a sight I was incredibly amused by. His head fell as he chuckled, maybe flustered that I had finally caught him in a moment instead of the other way around, “Yeah,” he nodded his head, his cheeks pink, “I was.”
I couldn’t help the smirk tugging at my lips. Watching him falter, even slightly, was a rare treat, one I planned to savor. “I can see why you like pushing people’s buttons now.”
“I don’t like pushing people’s buttons,” he said as he brought the beer to his lips, “just yours.”
It was insane just how quickly Nicholas could turn something back onto you. The admission was so casual, yet it hit me like a rogue wave. I stared at him, half-expecting him to laugh or brush it off as a joke, but he simply leaned back on his hands, eyes on the horizon like he hadn’t just set my pulse racing.
“I’m sure you say that to all your company,” I turned to face the water, sipping on my beer and trying to hide my flushed cheeks. I chose my words carefully, wanting to see how’d he react.
Nicholas let out a low chuckle beside me. “I don’t,” he said simply, his voice drawing me in despite myself. “Only you.”
I stole a quick glance at him, but he was already looking ahead, the way his profile caught the last rays of the setting sun, casting long shadows across his features. There was something magnetic about him, and the more time I spent around him, the more I couldn’t ignore it. He was confident, teasing, but there was something underneath, something deeper that made it hard to read him completely.
A part of me wanted to challenge him, maybe even keep him on his toes. But there was another part of me, the part I kept hidden, that wanted to give in to the tension, to see where it could lead. My mind raced with the possibilities, each thought contradicting the last, until I was sure I was overthinking every moment, every word we exchanged.
I cleared my throat and shifted my position in the chair, facing toward him completely. “Indulge me. What makes me so different that you just can’t help but push my buttons?”
He smiled, like he had an answer prepared since the moment we met, “You don’t give in easily, but you seem like the type to give yourself completely once you do.”
Nicholas’s words lingered in the air, making my pulse quicken. It was strange how effortlessly he could unravel me with just a few words. I tried to maintain my composure, but the quiet between us seemed to stretch longer than I was comfortable with. His words felt like a challenge, but also like a promise. My mind kept drifting back to the night before, to the sounds of him on the other side of the wall.
“I’m not so sure about that,” I replied, keeping my voice steady, though it didn’t quite mask the undercurrent of uncertainty I was feeling.
Nicholas raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he shifted closer. “Really? Because there’s only so much pressure somebody can take before they start to crack.”
I wanted to say something sharp, something that would put distance between us, but his confidence was suffocating, almost intoxicating. I couldn’t seem to gather the words to shut him down. So, instead, I took another long sip from my beer, pretending to focus on the view ahead of me, though my mind was anything but at ease.
His smile widened, “Aren’t you cracking?”
For a moment, it felt like time stopped. The world seemed to fade into the background, and it was just the two of us, sitting there in the fading sunlight, with nothing but the sound of the waves and the sudden weight of his words hanging between us.
I cleared my throat, finishing my beer, “I don’t think so,” I said lightly, trying to mask the effect his words had on me.
“We’ll see about that then,” he finally said, his voice low and casual, though I could tell there was a hint of challenge in it.
I was almost afraid to look at him, afraid of what I might see in his eyes. But I couldn’t help it. Slowly, I turned my head, and our eyes met, the connection between us palpable. My head slowly started to move forward by itself, millimeter by millimeter, toward Nicholas. My heart raced faster and faster, it was practically thumping out of my chest when I realized that he was leaning in, too. Right as I was about to close my eyes to welcome whatever was about to happen, I heard a group of people loudly laugh as they passed by behind us. I quietly chuckled to myself, thinking that may be my cue to leave.
Satiating my dose of Nicholas for the day, I dusted myself off and stood up from the beach chair, handing him my empty beer bottle, “I guess we will,” I said, not too much of a challenge behind my words. I grabbed my chair and looked back at Nicholas with a friendly grin before walking off.
I couldn’t shake the feeling of Nicholas’s eyes on me, but I powered through, making my way to my room. The second I entered, I went to the bathroom and stripped off my sandy clothes, turning on the shower to warm myself up from sitting in the cool, evening breeze. The hot water streamed over my skin, washing away the lingering chill from the beach. I let out a deep breath, closing my eyes as the steam began to fill the space.
My mind wandered back to the conversation with Nicholas. His words replayed in my head, their weight sinking in a little deeper with each memory: We’ll see about that.
After my shower, I slipped into a cozy tee and shorts, feeling a bit more grounded. I sat by the window, towel drying my hair, watching the moonlight dance on the water. The calm of the night settled around me, but my mind was still restless.
To distract myself, I turned on the tv, not caring what was on but making sure to keep the sound at a reasonable volume to not disturb Nicholas but just loud enough that I might not hear tonight’s mystery woman moan through the wall.
As the night stretched on, I tried my best to focus on the random show playing on the screen, but my thoughts kept drifting. Every sound outside my window, every muffled thump from the hallway, made my heart race just a little faster thinking it might be Nicholas arriving to his room.
The hours ticked by. I hadn’t heard anything from his side of the wall yet — not a voice, not the creak of a bedframe, nothing. It was almost worse than the alternative. The anticipation was maddening. I half-wondered if he knew I was waiting, if he was deliberately drawing this out just to mess with me.
Finally, around midnight, I heard the faintest sound of a door opening and closing. My stomach twisted, though I wasn’t sure why. I told myself I didn’t care, that whatever he did wasn’t any of my business. There were a few thumps followed by a silence on the other side. I tried to focus on the tv but my ears seemed to be tuned in on what was going on the opposite side of the wall.
Minutes passed, and the silence persisted. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Nicholas had turned over a new leaf tonight, or maybe he just couldn’t hook himself a lady tonight. But just as my focus started to drift back to the tv, the silence was broken by a clear, unmistakable groan — Nicholas. I half-expected it to be followed by the high-pitched moan of a woman, like it was both nights prior, but it never came.
I should’ve turned the volume up, drowned it out, or grabbed my headphones. Instead, I sat there, frozen, as the groaning grew louder — his voice, unmistakable and far too close for comfort. I hated how my body reacted. The heat in my cheeks, the way my chest tightened with every noise, the throbbing sensation between my thighs. I shook my head, trying to dispel the thought, but I let my curiosity get the best of me.
I slid off the bed and crept toward the closet, my heart pounding in my chest. My rational side screamed at me to stop, to mind my own business, but something about the sound of his voice pulled me in. But the little devil on my shoulder told me that I had already eavesdropped twice before, what’s one more time?
Opening the closet doors quietly, I leaned over the luggage rack and pressed my ear lightly against the cool surface of the wall, listening. The groans continued, low and guttural, accompanied by the light sound of a rhythmic wet slapping, sending an uninvited warmth through my body. It took a moment for me to realize there was no second voice, no telltale feminine giggle or breathy gasp. It was just Nicholas.
My breath caught in my throat. He's alone. The realization sent a shockwave through me, equal parts relief and something else I didn't want to name. He wasn't with anyone tonight. He was... taking care of himself.
I pressed my forehead against the wall, closing my eyes as his voice — raw, unguarded, and achingly intimate — filled my ears. My hand instinctively moved to my chest, clutching the fabric of my shirt as I fought the conflicting feelings that raced through me. However guilty I felt for listening in, I couldn’t pull myself away. I was entranced.
His groans deepened, interspersed with uneven breaths, and I felt my knees weaken. It was maddening how his voice seemed to reach right into me. My lips parted slightly, my breath shaky as my body betrayed me, responding to the sounds with a heat I tried desperately to ignore.
The wet slapping quickened, a whimper escaping his lips followed by erratic heavy breathing. I lost all inhibitions, slipping my hand under my underwear. I exhaled shakily, my head resting against the wall, feeling the vibrations of his voice travel through me. My fingers moved instinctively, slow and hesitant at first, matching the rhythm of the sounds spilling from him. Each groan, each sigh seemed to draw me deeper into a haze I couldn't escape.
My mind was a mess of contradictions: shame, desire, and something more dangerous — an unspoken connection, even if he didn't know I was there. I bit my lip, trying to stay as silent as possible, but the tension within me built with each passing moment, threatening to undo me entirely.
“Fuckfuckfuck,” Nicholas quickly whined out, followed by a loud moan.
I slipped my other hand under my shirt, kneading my breast, as my fingers worked my throbbing clit. I felt the rapid beat of my heart as it matched the rhythm of his breath. The heat between my legs intensified, and the sound of his voice grew louder in my ears, pulling me further into the spiral. His groans were rough, almost frantic now, and I could feel every pulse, every heavy breath reverberating through the wall like it was echoing through my very bones.
I tried to focus, tried to pull myself out of this situation before it became something I couldn't undo, but I couldn't stop. I couldn't pull away, couldn't shake the pull of him. I closed my eyes tightly, my fingers rubbing harder against my clit in frantic circles, then moving them lower and slipping my middle and ring finger inside of me. Desperate, I pulled my shorts off me, letting them land at my feet.
My own breathing became erratic, escaping through my nostrils as I tried to keep myself from making any sound, biting the inside of my cheek and shutting my eyes closed as I pleasured myself.
His voice broke through the haze of my thoughts again. "God... need you..."
The words, the desperation in them, sent me into a frenzy. I couldn’t hold in my voice any longer — a quiet, whimper escaping my lips as I pumped my fingers inside me, pretending they were Nicholas’s. I could feel the tension in me coiling tighter and tighter the more I heard him talk through his pleasure.
A high-pitched groan slipped out of him, the wet slapping quickening even more. I could almost picture him on the other side — laying down in the middle of his bed, shirtless. his legs dangling off as he tugged at himself, his eyes shut as he grabbed at his hair, giving in.
My breath hitched at the vivid image in my mind. It was a dangerous thought, but one that I desperately wished I was there to see.
I could almost hear the strained breath in his throat, as if he was on the edge, about to break. The thought alone sent an electric charge through me, spurring me to move faster, my fingers pressing deeper, matching the intensity of his own rhythm.
"Please," he moaned, his voice broken, raw with need. "Fuck..."
The vulnerability in his voice, so exposed, so real, made me lose all control. I found myself unable to think or reason anymore. I was lost in him, in the sound of his pleasure, and in the dangerous path I was walking.
His voice faltered, his groans growing more frantic, and that's when I felt it — the sudden wave of warmth, the rush of sensation sweeping over me. But just as I was reaching my peak, so was he. Nicholas let out a sound so intimate and raw that it sent a shiver down my spine. Then came a low, guttural groan followed by the unmistakable — my name.
“(Y/N)- fuck!”
It happened just as I was about to reach orgasm, but I was so startled to hear my name that my eyes shot open and I stumbled back from the wall, knocking over the luggage rack below with a solid thud as it tipped over. I tried to catch it before it hit the floor, stumbling to reach for it, but my effort was for naught. A deafening silence filled the room after the loud noise quickly settled. The only thing I could hear was the loud thumping coming from my chest, becoming faster as I realized my predicament.
My breath came in shallow gasps, my body stiff with tension, caught somewhere between shock and embarrassment. On the other side of the wall, there was a beat of complete silence. I held my breath, waiting to hear something — anything — but nothing came. Not a footstep, not a sound. My mind raced, praying that Nicholas might’ve not heard the ruckus through his climax. Don’t orgasms dull one’s senses?
And then, as if the silence was suffocating me, I heard it. A faint creak — Nicholas’s door, opening then closing with a heavy thud. My chest tightened, anxiety coursing through my veins. I stood there frozen, my legs completely unable to move as if I had stuck them in buckets of cement. I felt every inch of my skin burn with humiliation. That’s when I heard a knock at my door, not light like the day before. It sounded desperate. I couldn’t run; I couldn’t hide. Nicholas knew I was in here.
Slowly, I inched closer to the door, my hand trembling as I reached for the doorknob. I tried to swallow my nerves, but I couldn’t fight the fact that I felt like I wasn’t getting enough oxygen. I breathed heavily as I opened the door, clutching at the edge as my eyes fell on Nicholas’s heaving bare chest.
He stood there, his chest rising and falling, glistening from the thin layer of sweat that he had worked up. A slight satisfied grin played on his lips as his eyes trailed down my body, lingering on my bottom half as I stood there in nothing but my shirt and lacy underwear.
He didn't wait for an invitation, stepping inside as soon as the door cracked open, closing it behind him with a deafening click. We stood there, facing each other, the silence hanging thick in the air. I could barely meet his gaze, my cheeks still burning with humiliation. I stammered, hoping to explain myself with a pathetic excuse of a reason, but he interrupted me with a quiet shush, still smirking.
He placed a finger gently over his lips, his eyes dark with something unreadable. "No need to explain," he whispered, stepping closer, his presence dominating the space between us. My breath hitched as he closed the distance, cornering me against the wall, his body heat enveloping me, making my pulse race.
The air felt thick, suffocating, as if the room was closing in on me with every breath. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I couldn't quite figure out what to do with my hands, so I held them behind my back, pressing them against the wall.
“Were you listening in?” He asked, brushing his hand up my sides before it settled on my hip, my body trembling under his touch. It was everything I wanted him to do to me, and yet, I still felt nervous under him.
Too ashamed of myself to open my mouth to answer, I nodded my head hesitantly. Nicholas's smirk widened, but there was no mockery in it. No teasing. His hand slid to my chin, tilting my head up so that our gazes locked. There was no escape now — no way to hide.
“I hoped you were,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, sending shivers down my spine. His thumb traced the line of my jaw slowly, deliberately.
He was so close now that I could feel his breath against my skin, and I was painfully aware of how badly my body was reacting to him. His thumb brushed over my lips, and I instinctively parted them, my breath hitching as his gaze softened, darkened. I could feel the tension between us, so thick that I could almost taste it.
His other hand slid around to the small of my back, pressing me into him, the heat of his body sending waves of electricity through me. His eyes never left mine, and I could hear the rapid beat of my own heart in my ears, drowning out everything else.
Nicholas murmured, his voice dark and full of intention, "Did you enjoy what you heard?" His fingers tightened ever so slightly on my waist, as if testing my response, and I couldn't help the small, almost imperceptible nod that escaped my lips.
Nicholas's smirk deepened, and he closed the gap between us, his lips barely grazing mine. His breath was hot and intoxicating, and the world seemed to disappear around us.
“Were you touching yourself?” He questioned, his hand moving down to my hips, my body squirming the moment his finger hooked itself under the band of my underwear.
I closed my eyes, my lips parting at his touch, nodding my head again. My hands clenched behind my back, the urge to touch him overwhelming. But I couldn't seem to move, too caught up in the magnetic pull between us.
Nicholas's thumb traced the outline of my lips again, the action slow and deliberate. His gaze never left mine, and I could see the hunger in his eyes, the way he studied me like I was something he wanted, something he couldn't resist.
His voice was a whisper, low and intoxicating. "You can touch me if you want to." It was a quiet command, but there was an invitation in it.
I hesitated for a moment, but then, as if drawn by an invisible force, my hand slid up his chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath the soft skin. My fingers traced the lines of his collarbone, skimming down to the waistband of his pants before I pulled away, suddenly embarrassed by the boldness of the move. Nicholas didn't give me time to retreat too much, though. With a gentle but firm grasp, he pulled my hand back to his chest, guiding it lower, urging me to feel the hard planes of his body.
His lips parted slightly as he lowered his head, his breath hot against my ear. “Don't be shy,” he whispered again, his voice thick with desire.
I swallowed hard, my pulse racing as I let my hand roam over his body, feeling the heat radiating from him. The muscles of his chest were solid under my touch, his skin warm and soft in contrast. My fingertips trailed down to the waistband of his pants again, this time without hesitation. He didn't stop me, didn't pull away. Instead, he let out a low, approving sound, his body shifting closer to mine.
The closeness was dizzying. His scent filled my senses, sharp and intoxicating, and I couldn't help but pull him toward me by his belt loops and lean in, my lips just inches from his.
He took charge, his lips brushing mine softly at first, teasing, testing, until the pressure grew, and I found myself kissing him back without hesitation. The kiss was electric, hungry, full of that same tension that had been building between us for days. His hand slid around my back, pulling me closer, as I tangled my fingers into his hair, deepening the kiss.
My body responded to him, betraying all the resistance l'd tried to put up. I felt his hands everywhere — on my back, on my hips, his hands softly squeezing my ass, pulling me closer as if he couldn't get enough. A groan rumbled low in his throat as his lips moved to my neck, trailing kisses down the curve of my collarbone. I tilted my head back, surrendering to the sensation, every nerve alive, every thought clouded by the pull of him.
His hands slipped under my shirt, sliding along my bare skin, and I gasped at the coolness of his touch against the heat of my body. The intimacy of it all, the way he seemed to know exactly where to touch, how to make me shiver, was overwhelming. But I wasn't the only one lost in this; it was clear from his ragged breathing, from the way his hands shook slightly as they explored my body, that he was just as desperate as I was.
"Everything I did this weekend was to get your attention," Nicholas murmured against my skin. His lips pressed against the curve of my jaw, trailing to my ear, where he nipped at the lobe gently. "I've wanted you since the moment I saw you in the stairwell. I can't get enough of you, (Y/N),” his voice rough, almost pleading, “I want you.”
His confession hit me like a tidal wave, and for a second, I couldn't breathe. His words, his desire, everything he was feeling was laid bare before me, and I couldn't deny that I wanted him just as much.
"I want you, too, Nicholas," I whispered, my voice barely audible, but the raw honesty behind it made his body freeze. His hands paused where they rested on my back, and I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, as if he was trying to read my soul.
I, however, didn't hesitate. My hands found the sides of his face, pulling him back toward me as I kissed him fiercely. The kiss became frantic as our bodies collided, desperate, as though we were both starved for this connection. His hands moved quickly, pulling my shirt over my head and discarding it on the floor. I felt the cool air hit my skin, but it did nothing to dampen the fire building inside me.
I couldn't pull away. My body, my mind, all of it was consumed by him. His lips trailed down my neck, his teeth grazing lightly over the sensitive skin of my collarbone as his hands roamed lower, finding the waistband of my underwear again. I gasped as he gently tugged them down, his fingers brushing against my skin with an intimacy that made me tremble.
Nicholas was steady in his movements, never rushing, always making sure I was with him, always checking, always asking if I was okay with everything. But there was a fire in his eyes, a need that mirrored mine, a hunger that couldn't be ignored.
"I want to make you feel good," he whispered against my skin, his voice thick with desire. All I could do was nod my head at his statement, ready to give myself to him.
He wasted no time, lifting me effortlessly. I wrapped my legs around him, hooking them behind his lower back. The feeling of his jeans grazing my bare center was enough to trigger a quiet mewl out of me. Nicholas groaned at the sound, his lips crashing back onto mine as he carried me toward the bed. When my back hit the soft mattress, I felt the weight of him settle over me, his hands bracing either side of my head.
His gaze bore into mine, his chest rising and falling heavily as he paused, his face hovering just inches above mine. For a moment, everything stilled, the only sound was the rhythmic beat of our breaths mingling in the air between us. As he settled down in the space next to me, propping himself up by the elbow, his free hand reached up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing over my flushed skin with a tenderness that sent shivers down my spine. The both of us laid there, face to face.
His lips parted as if to say something but no words escaped his lips, the hand on my cheek slowly making its way down, down. It lingered, at first, over my sensitive breast, tracing slow circles around my nipple. I bit my lip at the sensation, digging my head into his chest as I quietly moaned.
Nicholas quietly giggled, amused to see me squirming under him, as he slithered his supporting arm behind my head and pulled me closer to him. His lips rested on my forehead as he slid his hand further down, enveloping my center. “God, you’re soaking,” he whispered; I could feel his smirk against my skin.
His fingers massaged my throbbing bud, then slipped his fingers into me, his touch deft and confident. I loudly gasped and clutched at his arm, arching into him. “Oh, fuck,” I quietly breathed, nibbling on my bottom lip to bite back my moans.
He smiled, “Don’t hold yourself back. Be as loud as you want,” he whispered as his fingers continued to coax me, his thumb massaging my clit.
Digging my nails into his shoulder, my chest violently rising and falling as he pumped his fingers, I shook my head. “Somebody’s gonna hear,” I stammered out through my labored breathing.
“So?” He questioned, slipping a third finger in. Nicholas's confidence was maddening, his tone both teasing and commanding, making it impossible to resist him. “Let them hear how good I make you feel," he murmured, his lips brushing against my temple.
My body arched involuntarily, my head falling back into the pillow as a moan escaped me despite my best efforts to stifle it. Nicholas was not having it. He quickened his pace, quickly slipping in and out with ease, as his thumb continued to circle around my clit. His lips kissed at my neck, his tongue licking my skin before gently sucking. I turned my head, my hand clutching at the back of his hair as I passionately made out with him, softly moaning between kisses.
I was unraveling beneath him, my body trembling as the heat coiled tighter and tighter in my core. My moans slowly became louder and louder, filling the room, and I knew there was no hiding how he was making me feel. The pleasure that I was feeling was so great that I couldn’t focus on kissing Nicholas anymore. I had to pull my head away, glancing down at his hand pumping in and out of me before shutting my eyes and burying my head into his chest again. I could barely find the strength to call out to him, my voice faltering as I moaned out, “Nic…”
"That's it,” he encouraged, his voice a low growl. "Say my name, baby,” his fingers reshaping themselves inside me to reach further
My breathing became erratic hearing him call me baby, my nails raking across his shoulder as I clung to him, "Nicholas," I cried, louder this time, no longer caring who might hear.
The sound of my voice seemed to spur him on, his movements growing even more precise, more relentless. His words, his touch, the heat of his body — it was all too much. "It’s ok; I’ve got you," he murmured against my neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along my skin. His gaze locking with mine, his fingers never faltering.
His words were my undoing. I shattered around him, my body arching as a wave of pleasure crashed over me, pulling me under. My cries of ecstasy filled the room, and I clung to Nicholas like he was the only thing keeping me tethered to reality. He held me through it, his embrace steady and reassuring as I rode out the high while his fingers continued to coax every pleasure out of me, slowing to a stop.
When I finally came down, my body limped against his, Nicholas pressed a soft kiss to my lips, his hand leaving my core and coming up to his lips. I watched in awe as he licked at his fingers, wrapping his lips around them as he savored every trace of me with a deliberate slowness that made my breath hitch. His eyes never left mine, their intensity sending a shiver down my spine. I buried my face against his shoulder, my breathing still uneven.
He brushed away the damp hair from my face with the back of his pinky, “You taste even better than I imagined,” he spoke softly, his voice velvety.
The weight of his gaze was almost too much, but when I looked into his brown eyes, all I saw was warmth, tenderness, and something deeper that made my stomach ache. My stomach wasn’t the only thing aching, either. The entirety of me did — my hands, my core, my soul. I ached for him.
Desperate to have him at the end of my fingertips, I trailed my hands across his chest, settling on the nape of his neck as I captured his lips in a kiss. Nicholas replied with a soft groan, his hand finding my waist and his fingers delicately digging into my skin. The kiss deepened, our breaths mingling as I pulled him closer, needing to feel every inch of him against me. My hands wandered, exploring the contours of his back, his muscles taut under my fingertips.
I pulled my lips away, pressing my forehead against his, “I hope you’re not done with me yet,” I whispered.
A soft chuckle escaped his lips, “Far from it.”
He cradled my head in his hand, angling it slightly as his lips moved with mine, urgent yet tender. Nicholas shifted his weight, moving slightly up on the bed, grabbing me by my hips and rolling himself over on the bed as he pulled me on top of him.
My legs straddled his hips, my bare skin brushing against the rough denim of his jeans. The friction sent a jolt through me, and I bit my lip, my eyes locking with his. His hands slid up my thighs, gripping them firmly as if grounding himself in the moment. His gaze roamed over me with unrestrained hunger, making my skin flush under his scrutiny.
His hands continued their slow exploration, sliding up to rest on my waist. "I could look at you like this forever."
His words sent a thrill through me, and I couldn't help but smile, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. He met me halfway, his hands tightening their grip as he deepened the kiss. I let my hands roam, tracing the lines of his chest and shoulders, marveling at the strength beneath my fingertips. His muscles flexed as he moved beneath me, his hands sliding up to cradle my back, holding me close.
My hips began to move instinctively, grinding against him, and Nicholas groaned, his head falling back against the pillow as his eyes fluttered shut. His reaction ignited something in me, a newfound confidence that made me bold. I leaned down, my lips brushing against his ear as I whispered, "Tell me what you want, Nicholas."
His hands gripped my waist tighter, guiding my movements as he let out a low growl. "I want you," he said, his voice rough with desire.
The intensity of his words sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't hold back the smile that spread across my face. Leaning down, I kissed him again, pouring every ounce of my own desire into it. My hands tangled in his hair as our lips moved together, our breaths mingling as the space between us disappeared entirely.
Nicholas's hands slid down to my ass, his touch firm yet gentle as he guided me to move against him. The friction between us was electric, each movement sending waves of pleasure through me. His lips left mine to trail down my neck, his teeth grazing over my skin in a way that made me gasp.
"You drive me crazy, (Y/N)," he murmured against my collarbone, his voice raw, “you know that?"
I smiled, my hands bracing against his chest as I moved against him, my confidence growing with every reaction I drew from him. "I do now," I replied, my voice breathless.
Nicholas groaned, his hand digging into my skin as he bucked his hips upward, meeting my movements. His control was slipping, and I could feel it in the way his grip tightened, the way his breathing grew ragged. I continued to grind against him, trying to coax out the whimpers I had heard escape his lips when I was listening through the wall.
Nicholas's hands slid up my back, his fingers tracing along my spine as he tried to steady himself. His head fell back, his eyebrows tied together as his lips parted in a quiet moan that sent a rush of heat through me. But it wasn’t enough. I brushed my thumb against his bottom lip, slowing to a stop so he could feel the loss, teasing him with the occasional grind, “I want to hear you, Nic.”
He nodded his head, pressing me down against him as he bucked his hips upward repeatedly, desperate for me to continue. “Please, (Y/N),” he shut his eyes closed as he ground himself against me, quietly whining.
Smirkingly, I obliged, slowly continuing to grind against him. I rested my palms on his tense chest, bringing them down to the waistband of his jeans. His fingers curled into my thighs the faster I worked, moaning louder and louder.
“Fuck, I can’t—“ he threw his head back, raggedly moaning.
Looking at him in such a vulnerable state underneath me after days of having to deal with his cocky confidence, it made my blood rush. I played with the button of his jeans, undoing them and shimmying his pants and boxers off just enough for his hard length to free itself under me. I spit my hand, gently stroking him as I positioned his member at my entrance.
Nicholas let out a guttural groan, his hands gripping me firmly as I hovered over him, teasing him with my slow movements. I lowered myself onto him, taking him in inch by inch, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure coursing through my body. A sharp gasp escaped my lips, and Nicholas’s eyes rolled back, his head falling back onto the pillow again. The connection between us was electric, every movement, every sound amplifying the intensity of the moment. Nicholas's hands roamed over my body, his touch both tender and possessive.
As I rode him, I grabbed Nicholas’s hands, leading them to my chest. Even though he could barely keep his eyes open, he understood what I wanted, beginning to knead and pinch at my breasts. I moaned at his touch, bringing one hand of his up to my lips to kiss his fingertips before placing it back on my breast.
Suddenly, I felt him tense under me, arching his back toward me, "Don't stop," he pleaded, his voice becoming an octave higher, his grip on me tightening. "Please, baby, don't stop.”
I didn't. I couldn't. The rhythm between us was intoxicating, building to something that felt almost otherworldly. My name fell from his lips like a prayer, and the sound sent a surge of pleasure through me, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
Nicholas's hands fell to my hips, guiding my movements as his breathing grew erratic. "I'm close," he groaned, his voice a mix of desperation and pleasure.
I leaned down, my lips brushing against his ear as I whispered, “Come for me, Nic." My words seemed to break the last of his restraint, and his hips bucked up into me with an urgency that sent shockwaves through my entire body.
“Fuck, (Y/N), I —“ His words cut off as a guttural groan escaped him, his body arching beneath me as he came. The intensity of his release sent me spiraling over the edge with him, my body trembling as the product of his pleasure filled me completely, some of the creamy liquid slowly dripping out me.
The aftershocks of our climax left us both trembling, our breaths mingling as we tried to regain control of ourselves. I collapsed onto Nicholas's chest, his arms immediately wrapping around me, holding me close as though he couldn't bear the thought of letting go.
For a while, we just lay there, our bodies pressed together, hearts pounding in unison. His fingers traced lazy patterns along my spine, a small, satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his lips. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath me, the steady rhythm lulling me into a serene haze.
He caught his breath, “That was….” a hint of a chuckle at the end of his words, “That was fucking incredible,” he said as he kissed the top of my head.
I pulled myself off of Nicholas, lying down next to him and covering myself with the bed sheets. I thought about what he had said earlier at the beach — I may not give in easily, but when I do, I give in completely. It felt nice to finally be seen by someone who could understand me even after only knowing me for a few days compared to other people who have known me for years and still manage to get things wrong about me.
I rolled over to face Nicholas, my hand finding his. He smiled softly, intertwining his fingers with mine and kissing the back of my hand. A smile curled at the end of my lips seeing him so affectionate, “When do you check out of the hotel?” I asked, playing with his hand.
“In the morning. You?” He asked, caressing my cheek with his other hand.
“In the morning,” I replied, my eyes flickering up at him to see his reaction.
He was quiet, not saying anything at first, however, he rolled me over and pulled me closer to him, spooning me and pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “We’ll have tonight, then,” he whispered, wrapping his heavy arm around my waist and nuzzling his head into the pillow.
My chest tightened at his words, and I couldn't help but smile softly. I rested my hand above his, intertwining our fingers. Before I knew it, I had fallen asleep to the sound of Nicholas’s soft, rhythmic breathing.
A few hours later, which felt like minutes, I stirred awake to the soft light filtering through the curtains. The remnants of the previous night were scattered around — my shirt and underwear and his jeans and boxers strewn carelessly across the floor, the faint scent of Nicholas's cologne mingling with the crisp hotel room air.
The weight of his big, beefy arm draped over my waist anchored me in place. For a moment, I stayed still, savoring the warmth of his body against mine and the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek before I rotated in place so I could admire Nicholas as he rested.
We were so close that I could count the beauty marks on his face. There was one on his cheek and another on his chin. His lashes cast shadows on his cheekbones, his lips slightly parted as he breathed deeply. I softly grazed my fingers over the scar on his forehead, wondering how he might’ve gotten it, though I’m not sure if I’d ever find out. He looked peaceful, vulnerable even, and the sight tugged at something deep within me.
I let my fingers trail lightly over his chest, tracing the faint outlines of the muscles that had pressed against me so urgently just hours ago. He stirred slightly, a low hum escaping his throat as his arm tightened around me instinctively.
His eyes fluttered open, landing on me before he closed them again for a few seconds, “Morning,” he murmured, smiling, his voice thick and husky from sleep. He opened his eyes again, gazing at me longingly.
"Morning," I whispered back, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze despite everything we had shared. His hand slid up my back, his fingers tangling in my hair as he leaned in for a slow, lingering kiss.
“Are we staying in?” he asked, shifting his body to face me.
I smiled, running a hand through his messy bedhead. "Oh, I wish," I admitted, my cheeks flushing as the memories of the night before flooded back, "but we have to check out.”
Nicholas groaned, his forehead pressing gently against mine. “Don’t remind me,” he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He brushed a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “We should get some breakfast together before we leave.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, pushing myself up and sitting on the edge of the bed, stretching my arms. I let out a small sigh, feeling the weight of the moment settle on me. The night had been incredible, but the thought of leaving was already filling me with an unexpected ache. “Breakfast sounds perfect,” I said softly, faking a small yawn.
Nicholas and I didn’t waste any time. I changed into a clean set of clothes and packed up my things, my body slowly waking up the more I walked back and forth in the room. Nicholas put on his boxers and jeans and retreated to his room for a bit, quickly throwing all his stuff into a backpack before coming back to my room and helping me carry my bags to the car.
I think I was too somber to say anything, knowing if I did, that a “goodbye” might be attached to the end of whatever I say.
The silence between us felt heavy but not uncomfortable as we made our way to the café, our movements synchronized without the need for words.
As we entered, the delicious smell of freshly-baked pastries beckoned to us. The morning sunlight filtered through the large windows, casting soft rays across the inside. The sound of light chatter and the occasional clinking of cups and forks against the ceramic plates filled the air, but it all felt distant compared to the warmth between Nicholas and me.
He slithered his hand into mine as he led us to the register, politely smiling to the worker. He ordered his meal, a coffee and a Belgian waffle. I was about to order for myself when he interrupted. “She’ll have the Italian crème croissant and a pot of green tea, please.”
I couldn’t help but smile. That first morning in the café, I could’ve sworn Nicholas was so focused on his book that he didn’t realize what was going on around him; I had no idea he was paying attention to me the entire time.
He paid the worker for our food, letting her keep the change, and waked us over to the same table I had sat in both days prior. We sat close, our knees brushing under the table as we picked at our food, the conversation flowing easily despite the unspoken weight of the situation hanging in the air. After some minutes, the worker came over with our food, and we continued to converse while enjoying our breakfast.
Nicholas looked at me, his expression soft but with a hint of something more playful. “So, at what point are you gonna give me your number?” he asked, taking a bite of his waffle.
I paused, chuckling softly as I chewed on my croissant for a moment before meeting his gaze. “What?” I asked confusedly, trying to keep my tone casual, though my heart rate had sped up slightly.
“What, you thought you’d get rid of me so easily?” He took a sip of his coffee, shaking his head and smirking.
I laughed, the sound a little nervous but genuine. “I just didn’t want to assume anything or get my hopes up,” I admitted, giving him a sideways glance. There was a warmth spreading through me that I couldn’t quite place, something between affection and the lingering thrill of uncertainty.
Nicholas’s eyes softened, and he leaned back slightly, his hands wrapped around his cup. “Well, get your hopes up,” he said, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of something deeper. “because I don’t plan on letting go of you anytime soon.”
I swallowed, feeling my heart rate quicken at his words. There was something about the way he said it — so casually but with an intensity beneath the surface — that made me realize just how serious he was. And maybe how serious I was about him too.
“Alright, alright,” I said, smiling, trying to shake off the sudden rush of emotions swirling inside me. “Let’s trade phones.”
Nicholas’s smile widened, and he handed me his phone without hesitation, his fingers brushing against mine as we traded devices. I typed my number into the phone app, adding myself as a contact.
“Just remember we’re in different time zones before you decide to call me in the middle of the night,” I joked as I handed his phone back to him.
Nicholas laughed, a warm, genuine sound that made my heart flutter. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied, slipping the phone back into his pocket then handing me mine, the screen off. “Though I won’t make any promises I can’t keep.”
I rolled my eyes playfully, but the blush creeping up my neck betrayed me.
We finished our breakfast. Nicholas quietly walked me over to my car. He walked close to me, his hand occasionally brushing against mine before finally capturing it. He leaned casually against the car with his arms crossed. He looked so effortless, so at ease, but there was something in his eyes — a softness, maybe even a hint of reluctance — that made it clear he felt the weight of the moment, too.
We both stood there silently, knowing this was our goodbye. Nicholas uncrossed his arms, stepping closer until he was right in front of me. His fingers tilted my chin up, and he searched my eyes, his brows knitting together slightly as if to say something. However, instead of resorting to words, he inched his face closer and closer until our lips grazed.
The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if we were both trying to hold on to the fleeting moment. But then, as if we both couldn’t help it, the kiss deepened, more urgent now, the electricity between us undeniable. My hands found their way to his shirt, pulling him closer, while his arms wrapped around me, his fingers pressing into my back as if he wanted to keep me there forever. Though, we pulled away slowly, our foreheads resting against each other as we caught our breath. Neither of us spoke immediately, both of us reluctant to break the spell.
Nicholas stepped back, “How about next time you have a free weekend you treat yourself to a trip to LA and come visit me?”
My heart skipped a beat at his words, the weight of his offer sinking in. I couldn’t tell if it was the sudden openness of his invitation or the quiet sincerity in his voice that made it feel so real. It wasn’t just a passing comment; it was an open door between us.
“I’d like that,” I said softly, surprised by how easily the words came out.
He smiled, his expression softening. “Good.” He reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering as his eyes locked onto mine.
I wanted to say more — something that could make this moment last longer, something to ease the ache already starting to form in my chest. But the words didn’t come, and instead, we stood there, wrapped in silence, our connection hanging between us like an unspoken promise.
He gave me one lingering kiss, brief but filled with everything we couldn’t put into words. When we finally pulled away, he looked at me, as if taking one final mental picture of me standing there, before speaking. “I’ll call you.”
I nodded, feeling the flutter of anticipation start to rise inside me. “You better.”
He squeezed my hand gently before opening my car door and slyly rolling down the window, watching me climb inside and closing the door for me. He leaned on the door, softly smiling, “To be continued.”
I couldn’t help but smile and give him one final kiss through the open window so I could savor his taste before starting up the car. He stepped back, hands in his pockets, to give me enough room to back out of the parking space. I slowly reversed out, waving my hand at him and driving out into the street.
The quiet hum of the engine filled the space, but the silence didn’t feel empty. There was something between us, something that went beyond just a weekend. It was more than I’d expected, more than I’d thought I was ready for, but as I drove away, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the end.
I don’t think I even left the neighborhood before a phone call interrupted my thoughts. My car’s entertainment screen lit up with the contact name in big, bold letters — Room 5.
I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head as I tapped the answer button on the steering wheel. “Hey,” I teased, my voice light and playful, though my chest felt warm at the sight of his contact name lighting up my screen.
“Hey,” Nicholas’s voice came through, smooth and familiar.
It was just the beginning.
#Nicholas Alexander Chavez#Nicholas Alexander Chavez x reader#Nicholas Alexander chavez imagine#Nicholas Alexander chavez fic#Nicholas Alexander chavez x fem!reader#Nicholas chavez#Nicholas chavez x reader#Nicholas chavez x fem!reader#father Charlie mayhew#father Charlie mayhem x reader#fanfic#x reader#Nicholas chavez rpf#nicholas alexander chavez rpf#fic-o-meter
286 notes
·
View notes
Text
I also forgot to add YOU CAN RIDE THE SLIDES.
I played the POOLS game last night, took a bunch of screenshots so I decided to share a couple of them. It is really pretty! Definitely one of the neatest looking games I've played in a while; these pictures don't really do it justice how cool it actually is when you're going around the levels.
I will say though if you are into this aesthetic and want to check it out it is technically a horror game - no monsters, but there are some unnerving sounds and object/statue arrangements. Also, while they aren't classic jumpscares per se there are a couple moments closer to the end where you will turn a corner and suddenly see something real unpleasant. Otherwise, it is literally a walking simulator ~ no real story, just walk around in mazes for 6 chapters and enjoy the visuals for, hm, 2-3 hours.
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
— A WHOLE NEW WORLD
pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader
summary: in which you and percy navigate a whole other world, and encounter trials in the way.
warnings: angst, bullying mentions, teasing, physical violence courtesy of clarisse my bae, drowning, confessions, fluff, hugs, smooches, percy n you are a comedic duo i swear, basically a self insert, not proof read
wordcount: 5.7k
a/n: i’m insane, this is the longest thing ive ever written. so please reblog and interact <3
you’d grown up with the same stories percy had. the greek gods and goddesses, their lives and tales, their failures and secrets. what you didn’t expect was to be the child of one.
you, percy and grover were currently on a field trip, and you couldn’t have been happier. all around you was history, and you were fascinated by it all. breaking away from them, you viewed the tallest of statues and the intricate, taking your phone out secretly and snapping a photo to show your mother later.
you were dragged out of your fairytale by laughter, and percy’s scowl evident on his face as you made your way over. “i don’t know if you have a miserable home life or just enjoy being a bitch but this trip would be much more enjoyable without your annoying voice.” you sneered before shining a fake smile her way. percy’s laugh in your ear made you join in, but the reprimand afterwards dulled your mood.
you weren’t a big fan of bullies, especially when they targeted your friends. for some reason you obtained a boost of confidence and a need to protect your own friends from such people yet you couldn’t defend yourself on your best day.
the trio of you sat, eating your lunches, you were inhaling your favourite food much to the amusement of grover and percy. “i don’t think your food is running off y/n.” grover teased as you shoved his arm, “i know, but i’ve been waiting for so long, i didn’t eat anything this morning, i was too excited.” percy turned his head towards you, “you were excited?” you nodded, “for a museum?” you waved him off, returning to your food.
but not before nancy launched a sandwich percy’s way, you’d had enough, and so had he. the two of you got up despite grover’s protests, and somehow she ended up in the fountain, even though percy hadn’t touched her. you’d been lost in the crowd around the fountain and once you’d broken out you found percy on the ground.
“perce! percy are you okay?” you tried to shake him awake to no avail, so you did the next best thing, slapping him awake. twice should do it. his eyes opened, focusing in on you, “i’m here, i’m fine, i know you care about me.” relieved, yet annoyed you hit his shoulder before you and grover helped him up.
and when he did wake up he spoke about what he saw. on the walk to your hearing percy went into detail. and you couldn’t help but feel scared, what the hell was going on?
and the two of you stuck with the story of nancy throughout, feeling betrayed when grover went against you. your own parents were out of town and you were freshly kicked out of school, percy’s home was also your own. you prepared yourself before the two of you entered the apartment, gabe wasn’t exactly a sight for sore eyes.
and soon enough yourself, percy and his mother were headed for montauk. you’d left over twenty four messages for your parents but it seemed none of them had made their way through.
“so all the stories, they’re all true?” percy was fast asleep in the front seat, and the book in your hands wasn’t all that interesting. sally nodded, “i know it’s all a lot for the two of you to take in,” if percy was a demigod, then were you too? “what am i? who’s my parent then? are my parents my parents? am i adopted?” sally stopped at the intersection abruptly, turning towards you with a sad smile, “sweetheart, it doesn’t matter. your parents love you no matter what, i know it. you’ll learn everything with time, i’ll tell you more when we’re all inside okay?”
the water droplets on the window were plentiful, some big, some small, some new and others falling. the storm outside was looming, loud and dark, but it seemed to bring you comfort in all honesty, you loved the rain. and as you sat and drove all you could think of was your future, and what it had in store for you.
you’d been in the kitchen whilst listening into sally explain to percy about his parentage, the gods and goddesses. you were sure if you heard anymore you’d pass out. percy’s outburst led you back to them.
“well i’m not a baby! i know there’s no such thing as monsters, i know there’s no such thing as gods and i know for certain that there’s no such thing as demigods.” the hand on percy’s shoulder brought him back down, “percy, why would your mother lie to you? no one on this earth loves you more than her, i think we should listen.” his face was riddled with confusion, “you’re telling me you believe this crap?”
before the conversation could get heated, grover’s appearance interrupted. “what the hell are you doing here? how did you get here?” grover sighed, as much as he wanted to explain he needed you all to get moving, “i promise i’ll explain everything but somethings coming,” percy and yourself took a step back, “grover.”
“and i know that sounds really bad,”
“grover?” he brushed the two of you off, continuing to ramble at sally.
“but the important thing is not to panic—”
“i’m not panicking.” sally rested her hands on her hip, “great! i’m also definitely not panicking. i feel very good about how we’re doing so far—” you closed your eyes, maybe when you opened them it’d go away. “grover!” you and percy shouted out at the same time, “what?”
you pointed towards his legs as percy spoke up, “why is there half a goat in your pants?” his legs were bare, mist not around.
as if the day couldn’t have gotten any crazier or exhausting for you and percy grover all of a sudden showed up and you were all on the move. sally was punching the accelerator, whilst grover continued to explain, “what are you?” grover turned to face you, “i’m a satyr. and i’m your protector. i was assigned to you but we didn’t know that y/n was special like you, so i guess i’m sort of protecting you both.”
“you’re my protector? and what y/n doesn’t get one?” you laughed, “no offence but i think i’m alright perce. if you’re our protector than shouldnt you have protected us at school? against nancy?”
“i protect you against actual evil,” you snorted, “the only evil is nancy’s personality, that should count.” percy managed a smile at your words. “if i hadn’t gotten you kicked out of school, you’d have never survived the night. and what’s chasing us now would have found you there easily.” it was like a truckload of information all at once, you felt like you were in a movie.
“the mist. it’s the veil that hides the magical world from the human world. my legs. dodds’ wings. even dodds’ absence, but it isn’t supposed to hide things from me. that never happens. something powerful is at work here. the sooner we get you two to camp, the better off you’re… you told them about camp, right?” grover looked towards sally for an answer as you moved his hand away from your face. grover tended to move them around when talking about something he was passionate about.
“not yet, no.” sally shook her head as you smiled, “you’re early remember?”
“camp is a sanctuary for half-bloods.” great now you were going to a summer camp. the more he divulged the more you began to understand. you’d always been told you were special, percy especially. you should’ve known you were meant for more. demi gods were never safe, that was obvious by the huge monster behind the car.
“is that the minotaur?”
“once the attacks start, they never let up. okay? dodds was just the beginning.” you twisted your body to get another look at it, “okay well if we’re being chased than maybe less talking and more runnin, driving, whatever just go!” you shouted out, your heart was ramming against your chest, your hands felt warm and jittery. you needed to move, to do something, you hated just sitting and relying on a car. you zoned out in time for percy’s regular jokes.
“he is still wearing underpants.” you giggled at him, “i wonder what size.”
“the mythomagic cards were training. everything has been training for what’s still ahead of you, and i know wherever percy goes, you go.” you rolled your eyes, “i always hated those stupid cards, guess i should’ve played huh?” percy cocked his head, “what’s ahead of me? of us?”
“kids,” you all turned to sally, her knuckles were turning pale white, an unrelenting grip on the wheel, “hold on, please.” you clutched on to the seatbelt and seats as you all were jolted around, dodging a car and attempting to evade the minotaur, which wasn’t exactly all that easy as he rammed into the car, horns penetrating sallys window.
she fought for control, her foot pressing down on the accelerator before you all ended up crashing.
the ground was wet and mushy, you felt dirt gather underneath your fingertips as you crawled out of the car. you could see sally helping percy out as grover made his way out. your leg was aching, a shard of glass caused a gash in your thigh and dragging it along the floor hurt like a bitch, “ah, shit!” you rolled over onto your back.
percy’s eyes darted towards you the second you cried out, “y/n!” he dashed towards you, sally and grover in tow. “are you okay? what happened? where does it hurt?” his eyes were frantic and his hands unsure, the sight of you hurt was more than enough to worry him. “i’m fine, i just, if we take the shard out and tie something around then it’ll stop the bleeding right?”
percy shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head, hoping it would clear it out, the whole situation was already stressful but his best friend injured? an absolute nightmare. “i— i don’t know! mom! what do we do?” he shouted as sally grabbed your jumper from inside, “move aside percy, let me help.” he didn’t want to, percy wanted to stay right by your side, but he knew she could help you where he couldn’t.
the make shift tourniquet did the job thankfully, but you were in and out from the loss of blood, the last thing you recall was sally jackson in the hands of the minotaur, and suddenly, gone.
your voice was stuck, trapped in your throat. your eyes stung immensely, waterline flooded. she was family to you, one of the sweetest people, supportive. and just like that, erased, just dust. your eyes searched your surroundings for percy, to see him, to help him, but all you could view was darkness as it took you far away.
the last thing you’d heard was grover yelling out for the two of you, “stay awake! please!” his pleads were unmet, as you were whisked away to a world of sleep.
the light was harsh on your eyes having just woken up, at least your bed was comfortable. but you still had no clue where you were. your body was stiff, needing to move around. as you shuffled to sit a voice called out for you.
“y/n!” you turned to see percy peering through the window, a large smile on his face as he promptly ran inside to you. “percy.” his arms wrapped tightly around you, squeezing hardly. “you’re killing me here.” you croaked out as he let go, taking a step back.
“i’m sorry. do you need something? are you hungry?”
“that i am, where are we?”
“camp half-blood, welcome y/n l/n.” an older boy spoke up from the doorway with his arms crossed, leaning on the frame. “luke.” percy recognised the boy, which made you feel at ease, “hi luke.” he smiled, “hey, how are you feeling?” you sighed lifting the blanket up and resting your feet on the floor, attempting to rise from the bed. “like i need to walk a bunch, is there food around?”
luke nodded his head before signalling you to follow, “is your leg okay?” the pain had lessened since the initial hit but it was still sore, “i think i’ll be okay, might have a limp. i can be a zombie for halloween maybe.” percy was glad you were making jokes, seemingly back to normal.
the camp was everything you could have dreamed of. straight out of the pages of a book or out of a movie, amazing scenery, nice enough people, and insane skills amongst them. you had no clue how you’d fit in. you’d settled into hermes’ cabin, your bag and bed next to percy’s.
“so, how long have you been awake?” you were pushing down on your mattress with your hands, testing the springs. the bed wasn’t as soft as you’d have liked it to be but you couldn’t exactly buy a new one.
“let’s go outside and talk.” percy muttered, leading the way. you were sat down behind the cabin now, percy slowly sliding down the wall to be next to you.
“i only woke up a few minutes before you, i saw chiron he’s a—something. and i met the camp director mr d, dionysus by the way. they wouldn’t let me go back into the infirmary until we finished talking.”
“why’d you want to come back so quickly?”
“your bracelet was missing, i didn’t know where it was so i was freaking out. anyways i saw the camp a little, and i came back for it and you were awake. i got, i got scared before.” percy couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye, he felt nervous admitting it, his worry for you. your smile was wide as you recalled his own worry for the bracelet you’d made him.
“what? why?” he exhaled, his hands playing with his shirt, “i— i thought you wouldn’t wake up maybe.” you grabbed his hand, “i’m right here, there’s nothing to worry about perce. how are you feeling?” your voice was barely above a whisper, filled with sympathy and sorrow, you still hadn’t spoken about his mother.
“don’t.” he shook his head whilst averting his gaze, staring down at his hands. “don’t what? i’m not going to force you to talk about i promise, i just want to make sure you’re okay.” percy closed his eyes, “i can’t just,” percy breathed in, working up the courage to meet your eye, he hated the pity on your face, “just forget it, her.” you rested your hand on his neck, bringing him in, “no one’s asking you to percy, if there’s anything you need from me, or if you just want to sit and die of diabetes with every blue food in the world, i’ll be right there.”
“thank you.” his voice came out muffled against your shoulder. you tried your best to comfort him with a hand in his hair, you pulled him back to take a look at him. his eyes were glossy, a few tears had fallen free. using your sleeve you wiped them away, “now what demigod has the time for tears, percy jackson?”
you loved percy best like this, with a grin plastered on his face.
“yknow what we could use?” percy pulled you up from the ground, before you walked back to the cabin. “and what exactly is that m’lady?” you rolled your eyes, “first of all i despise your british accent and second, a nap!”
percy was sweating profusely, his nightmare having jolted him up from his bed. his jittery movements concerned you, book in your hands forgotten as you surged forwards, “perce? you okay?” his eyes were blown and chest heaving, but at the sight of you he relaxed, “yeah, yeah i’m fine.”
“you okay?” luke stood infront of the two of you, arms crossed, “super.” percy snipped back as you swatted his arm, “be nice.” your voice was firm, and you knew how percy was, you’d say sarcasm was probably his middle name if you hadn’t already known it.
“we all have them, you know.” luke clicked his tongue, taking a step closer. “intense, recurring nightmares. that’s normal here.” his words were surprising to you, knowing that yourself and percy rarely fit in.
“and the daydreams, and the ADHD, and dyslexia. demigods just process reality differently, than humans do. for the first time in your life, you’re just like everyone else.” you let out a sigh, whether of relief or sadness you didn’t know. did you want to fit in? be the same as everyone else? nothing special?
“so are you also… do you not know who your—“ lukes lips pressed into a thin line, knowing what percy insinuated, “am i… unclaimed?” the two of you nodded in unison, “no, hermes is my father. that doesn’t matter, we’re all on the same team here.”
percy’s agitation was obvious, as well as reasonable and it was exactly how you felt. “each kid is brought here and made to wait around until their parent decides to pick up the phone? pick up— whatever. how is that fair?“ percy nodded along, “she’s right, why is that okay? why do they get to bring us here to just ignore some of us?” you did feel bad for luke, you felt as if the two of you were bombarding him with questions and expecting him to hold all of life’s answers.
“spend too much time trying to figure out why the gods do whatever it is they do, you’ll drive yourself crazy. sooner you stop worrying about that, the sooner you can enjoy what this place actually does offer.”
percy’s interest piqued, “and what’s that?”
“glory.”
you’d spent hours trying different things. percy almost hit a bunch of campers with an arrow, whilst you’d hit the bullseye, much to your elation. the both of you were absolutely horrendous at welding, which you figured. the only thing that had stuck with you through out the day was the idea of offerings. and you knew percy was thinking the same thing.
the smell of fire invaded your senses as percy threw in the thing that meant most, whilst you sat by him and wondered if it would actually work, would she be able to hear you? you’d zoned out for a bit, feeling as if you were intruding whilst he talked.
“i hope you’re sitting down, but… i think… i’ve made some friends here. like, real friends. y/n and i, we might actually fit in for once.” you beamed at the thought, yet not wanting to interrupt so you settled for nudging his shoulder to which he smiled at you, “i think they might really like me. imagine that. he isn’t here. my father, he just… didn’t show. i mean, ignoring me is one thing, but he doesn’t get to ignore you. i’m gonna make him come down here. i’m gonna make him see me, i’m gonna make him see us both.” and with that he blew out the fire, a small flicker of hope ignited inside.
“we’re going to get her back percy, i swear.”
and that was the end of your pleasant night, the reign of terror, clarisse and others were infront of your cabin. and that’s where your night went haywire.
you and percy were thrown to the floor roughly, landing on your bad thigh caused you to shout in pain. “aw, does someone have a scratch? where’d you get it from? the minotaur?” the girl was blonde, and you had no clue who she was but her mocking tone made you want to punch her in the face.
“do you think you’re special? better than everyone else?”
“no.”
“tell me you made it all up about the minotaur, and I’ll let you go. maybe to impress your friend here? you practically have heart eyes when you look at her.” clarisse approached you, “don’t touch her!” percy shouted as clarisse chuckled, “why not? you gonna stop me?”
“he didn’t make anything up.” you responded to her question since percy hadn’t, with her harsh glare you prayed for the earth to swallow you whole. “she’s right, i didn’t make anything up.” clarisse was hoping for truthfulness from percy, she couldn’t tell if she was disappointed or happy, she could teach him a lesson.
“some kids gotta learn the hard way.” the two other girls charged towards percy before abruptly walking around him, dragging you up by the elbows. “hey! if you’re mad at me then hurt me! don’t touch her! let her go!” clarisse held percy back as the girls forced you to your knees, “guys i appreciate the sentiment but i’m not all that thirsty.” please tell me this wasn’t used recently.
percy thrashed around in her grip, desperate to save you, “you really like her don’t you? not a single ounce of fight in you when it’s your ass on the line but for her,” his chest heaved, and his hands clenched, he wasn’t commonly violent, but a beat down on clarisse seemed amazing right about now.
“get off her! y/n!” your eyes were clenched shut in an attempt to prepare yourself, holding your breath, yet nothing happened. when you peeled your eyes open you were met with an empty toilet bowl.
“please tell me you guys didn’t drink it yourselves.” if it wasn’t already an indication of her irritation based on the scowl on her face the second-grade ‘you stole my swing’ type of pull at your hair dragged you back to younger self. but what really awakened you were the three tentacle like forms of water, “what the hell?” the harsh collision of your back on the wall saved you from the attack. the girls all staggered around, careful of the water before scurrying out.
percy rushed over to you, hands cradling your face, “are you okay? did they hurt you? you didn’t touch the water did you?” you raised your hand to cut off percy’s rambling, “i’m fine, but what the hell was that?” he shook his head, “not a single idea in my head.” percy slumped opposite of you, “there’s not much in your head either way.” percy placed his hand on his heart, feigning shock and hurt, “how dare you!” your giggles rejuvenated percy, your smile was all he needed to be happy again.
the figure of someone at the door caused you to shoot up, careful of the water, you saw annabeth come into view. crap.
“we can explain.” you both held up your hands, caught at the scene of the crime and afraid of the consequences. “no, you can’t.” percy nodded in agreement, “okay,” the girls face resonated with percy, eyebrows knitting together in confusion as he tried to recall how, “wait, I know you.”
annabeth shrugged her shoulders, “no, you don’t.” percy stepped forwards infront of you, directly inline with her, “yeah, but you were there. that night in the infirmary.” you couldn’t recall seeing her there when you woke up, “i don’t think she was, i don’t remember seeing you.” anabeth peered down at her shoes before returning to the conversation.
“yes. i’m annabeth.” she introduced herself, you’d heard of her a bit from other campers, daughter of athena.
“are you stalking us, annabeth?”
“yes.” her bluntness was something you didn’t expect. “okay. why?” you inquired further, “well, i’ve been waiting to see if something like this would happen. “so i’d know if you can help me.”
“you’ve been waiting for me to get my head in a toilet and for percy to be manhandled? well, girlhandled.” percy was confused, “help you do what?”
“win capture the flag.”
the helmets weren’t exactly the most comfortable but you figured keeping your brain in your skull was more crucial.
you walked next to luke with percy on the left of him, “you’re gonna love this. campwide mock warfare, all glory to the victors. annabeth’s the head counselor of the athena cabin. she’s led our team to three straight wins. been a long time since anyone’s won a fourth.”
“she was there in the bathroom, she said she’d been waiting for it to happen.”
“annabeth sees the world differently. always six steps ahead of everyone else. you should cut her a break.” you scoffed, “cut her a break for what? her life seems perfectly fine.” luke shook his head, “not everything’s as it seems y/n.”
“whose side are you on, anyway?”
luke stopped and turned towards percy, “oh, hers, always. she’s my little sister. maybe I should back up.” you nodded, “i think we should sit down if we’re going to be getting an origin story here.”
luke’s entire story of how he and annabeth got to camp made you regret your earlier comments of an easy life. she’d been fighting since she was a child, it’s all she’s known. “she’s been watching us since we got here. why?”
“annabeth is the strongest warrior in camp, the only way left to prove herself is to go on a quest.”
“and what does this have to do with us?”
“chiron’s been promising her for years. one day, a demigod would arrive who was fated to go on a quest that even chiron couldn’t prevent. and when that happened, she could join it. every new arrival, or, arrivals in your case, annabeth watches, looking for a sign they’re the one. usually, she gives up after a day or two, but she’s still watching you two.”
“can you ask her to knock it off?” as much as you hated to admit it, she did kind of freak you out, “i agree, we’re not going on some magical quest any time soon.”
“yeah, sure. but you never know, what if she’s right?” the conch shell blowing in the distance alerted you all.
it was battle time.
as you walked behind luke you couldn’t help your nervousness, which percy always noticed. “hey,” his voice was soft and reassuring, a hand on your shoulder, “we’re gonna be fine, it’s just a friendly game. we’ve won three times and we’re going to get a fourth since they have us brilliant additions of course.” percy literally bowed in front of you as if being applauded for a performance as you chuckled, “oh please, you cant win with idiocy percy.”
“that is extremely offensive! how many times have i beaten you in monopoly?”
“ohh, you want to talk about monopoly mr bank robber? do you honestly think no one noticed when you randomly turn in broken change and grab even more bigger notes? or the fact that three houses does not make a hotel!” clarisse watched the two of you fool around from afar, she was going to make you pay.
the pebble you’d thrown clattered against percy’s armour, “hey! what was that for?” you groaned out loud, your head lolling back, meeting the log. “if you keep flossing i’m going to push you myself perce. you need to take this more serious—” the girls surrounded you from every angle, swords in hand as you rose from the floor, your own sword clutched tightly.
“flags that way, it’s not here.” clarisse smirked, “we know. yeah, glory’s fine. revenge is more fun.” her spear crackled as they all surged forwards, time to fight, it’s now or never.
clarisse’s scream was deafening. “so much for friendly huh?” percy shook his head, “not now! you can tell me how wrong i was when we’re out of here.” for some reason once they’d begun their attack, you’d never felt more alive. as if you were born for this, to fight. every sword and hit that came your way was met with double the force, hurling people backwards as you tried to make your way to percy’s side. one of the girls was sly, managing to corner you on the boardwalk near by.
her knee, she’s weak in the knees.
the voice echoed through your head, as if compelled you followed up on it as the girl went down almost immediately. thank you very much random voice! the sound of cheers floated through the air as you saw luke plant the flag in the ground.
4 — 0.
perhaps you’d been distracted by the people, or maybe it was percy being held by his armour courtesy of clarisse. either way you didn’t notice the girl lunging your way, not until the cold water engulfed your body.
you’d never learnt to properly swim.
percy’s footsteps drummed through the air, each step heavy and weighed down with purpose. he had to get to you, now. the second you’d hit the water he was on the ground running. it had only been about five seconds at most yet percy was already at your previous spot, diving in head first.
act now, think later.
your eyesight was blurry as the two of you resurfaced, the first thing you spotted the crowd on the shoreline, they waited with bated breath, your team cheering once the two of you were back up. “i’m so sorry, i said i would protect you but clarisse— i was so scared when i saw you get pushed, i think i froze up. i should’ve listened to you, i should’ve taken it more seriously. this is all my fault.” he was holding onto your face for dear life, afraid to let go.
percy had dived head first into the water for you, no hesitation. he put himself at risk for you. he always knew what to say and what to do. percy was your person. you’d been an idiot, why’d it take so long for you to realise what you knew deep down?
you love percy jackson. and not in a friend way, in a love way. in the best way.
your lips were pressed on his in seconds, you weren’t in a hurry, not desperate, not messy. just passionate and deep, as if you were trying to convey your feelings through it. you were simultaneously trying your hardest to remember this moment. percy’s cold hands on your cheeks, both of you sopping wet, nothing else mattered to you, until he kissed back. percy on the other hand was desperate, he’d been waiting for so long, settling for the title of best friend. he had you in his arms, he’d already lost his own mother, he wasn’t going to lose his other half.
his hair tousled, curls sticking to his face, yours dripping wet, hands on your neck as you clutched his. “what are we percy?” he grinned, “whatever we want to be.” the pair of you may have forgotten the fact that you were currently surrounded by campers, but the deafening cheers and shouts of support warmed your heart. surely a kiss didn’t elicit such a reaction? yes it did, but also the fact that a trident loomed over percy’s head.
percy jackson, son of poseidon.
the two of you walked with a literal army of people, friends, even. for once you both felt as if you belonged.
luke was unbearable, taking any chance he could to tease the two of you, “my little campers, all grown up.” he fake-cried, wiping false tears from his eyes as you poked him, “now if we can find someone then where’s your partner pal?” percy laughed, “please never say pal again.” you turned his way, scrunching your nose, “doesn’t work does it?” he shook his head as the three of you chuckled.
“but seriously, you two are made for each other, i’m happy for you.” as you reached the cabin you couldn’t help yourself as you hugged luke by surprise, “thank you. we’ll be in soon, we just have a bit to talk about.” luke made his way inside as the two of you turned to walk away but not before hearing him call out, “keep your hands to yourself percy!” percy rolled his eyes as you smiled.
the two of you sat at the boardwalk again, feet dangling off. you’d been discussing the quest, as well as the fact that it was only undertaken by three.
“so, you, me, anabeth and grover. percy i know school sucks but if you could count those names on your fingers for me please.” percy groaned as you laughed at your own joke, “i know, i know. but i figure four heads are better than three.” your legs swung back and forth as you shrugged your shoulders, “we could fold grover into a box and take him with us secretly.” percy suggested.
“yeah, maybe.” your voice was quieter than before, eliciting concern from percy, “hey? you okay?” you were fidgeting again, this time with the black bracelet you’d made for him. he met your eyes with a smile as he lifted your head by the chin.
“i promise, i’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.” and for once you could feel how serious he was, “thank you perce, you— have been apart of my life since i was little. i don’t think there’s a single person i trust more on this planet than you. i’m sorry, for everything you’ve gone through. i swear, we’re going to make it out of this. we’re going to find your mother, we’re going to find the lighting bolt, and everything can return to normal. well, besides the fact that we’re all demigods and all.” the laughter was bittersweet, a moment of peace before you embarked on the quest.
“you’re beautiful you know that?” he whispered to you, as if he was afraid for others to hear. you grinned at his words, leaning in towards him as he followed, “i know, you make it a point to tell me at least once a day. but you, percy, are as gorgeous as the calm seas.”
you wiggled your finger in his face as he swatted it away, “if i had known my girlfriend was a poet i would’ve had every word of yours written down.” you felt fuzzy, warm. with percy you felt a million ways, all of them good.
as cheesy as he was you loved him.
“look at us, exploring a whole new world.”
“did you just aladdin me?”
“yup, do you think they have a flying carpet here?”
“why so zeus can strike it down when he’s angry? i feel like the gods are all little kids throwing temper tantrums.” percy shushed you, “they might be listening.” he joked as you punched him.
“i hope they are. so they know, we’re coming for them.”
“holy shit that was a badass line.”
“perce?”
“yeah?”
“you’re ruining it.”
#pjo x reader#pjo series#percy jackson and the olympians#percy jackson x fem!reader#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson imagine#percy jackson fic
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
I turned off reblogs on this post because it was about to breach containment in a way that looked unpleasant, but I did want to provide one bit of followup for those of you fortunate enough to not be following Twitter drama. You'll want to follow this bit though, because it's really funny.
The second bit is, as Matt says, that because a lot of leading figures in tech have gotten so annoyed at their treatment in the press recently, they've conjured up this theory about how journalists attach tons of status and self-worth to their blue check marks. And Matt is saying, no, this really isn't true at all: the fact that journalists all get blue checks by default is more of an implementation quirk of Twitter and nobody really cares. I have no reason to doubt him on this. So what's sort of funny is that apparently Elon got caught up in the same hatejerk as the rest of tech, and thought that "bluechecks" really did put tons of value on their verified status and could be extorted out of money for it. Which is probably a mistake, and one that's going to cost him literally billions.
At the time I thought this might have been a little uncharitable, but it turns out it was completely correct and, if anything, did not go far enough.
Today was the day that "legacy" blue check marks got turned off, and so now only the people paying Twitter $8/month get to have one. And this is absolutely hilarious, because now suddenly the blue check mark is a strong signal that you support Elon Musk and his Twitter machinations. So it went from being something which was free and had maybe slightly positive "eh, sure, I'll take it" valence, to something which (for most former bluechecks anyway) has strongly negative associations and costs money to boot. So they are, overwhelmingly, declining to pay. In fact, Twitter can't even give them away: LeBron James said he wouldn't pay for a check, Elon offered to give him one for free, and James refused, because the association is now so toxic. ell, em, ay, oh.
And this is absolutely infuriating the Elon fan crowd, because they never understood the indented paragraph above, and really did think that people valued the status of their blue check mark, instead of it being a "eh, whatever" thing that was barely worth it when it was free and certainly isn't worth $100/year. So you're getting deranged takes like this:
You can find thousands of these I'm-not-owned corncob posts, along with even more posts in the replies of people going "no thanks", cajoling and begging them to buy a blue check.
Sociologically, it is frickin' fascinating that this symbol just overnight had a complete valence inversion (and also that, despite this flip, the word "bluecheck" still refers to somebody just as insufferable as it did before).
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
@ekuboo
I’ll never have to buy adjacent plots of Earth / We’ll never have to rot together underneath the dirt / Won’t have to lose my baby in the crowd / I should be laughing right now
Thinking about the head wound reopening after ??? relinquishes control.
#self reblog#I wasnt originally planning on re-reblogging this but i wanted to respond to ekuboo who i’m reblogging this from#but oh my god i just wanted to say thank you for this and all of your regular comments and support in general#you’re like the sweetest person on this app omg#i dont always directly respond bc tumblr doesn’t allow for like… interactions with reblogged tags n stuff unless you do this#but your comments on all of my posts always make my fucking day man#i really appreciate how nice you are!!! I always keep a special eye out for you in my activity feed and my dashboard#tmoblr user ekuboo enchants the crowd once more#anyway thank you so much i’m glad you’re here 💚💚💚💚💚💚#i’m gonna tag you just to make sure this doesn’t get lost i hope you don’t mind
123 notes
·
View notes
Text
— rumours put to rest. chris sturniolo | versus tour
sypnosis. with all the girls flirting and complimenting with y/n’s famous boyfriend, chris sturniolo, she begins to feel self conscious of if she actually deserves this mini-celebrity she caught herself, especially with their relationship being a secret. bf!chris realized this and decided to put the rumours to rest once and for all.
warnings. flangst? self-consciousness, crying / comfort, fem!reader, that’s really all.
a/n. not sure where this inspiration came from but i’m feeling sappy today. also first post!!!!! like and reblog to support your favourite writers<3333
“ the need to be the best before the need to rest .. “
this was it; the versus tour was finally here, and my boyfriend was going on stage in front of hundreds of people.
a lot of girls found him attractive, that i knew was inevitable. but i could never get rid of this sickly feeling.
while he was out there, being admired by all these pre-teen girls, i was sat inside the trailer watching through a live-camera.
i wanted to be out there. i wanted to be the one admiring him.. he is my boyfriend of six months, after all.
and don’t get me wrong — chris is an amazing boyfriend, and i couldn’t have asked for a better soulmate to be paired with, but i was sick of being a secret.
i knew staying secret was the better choice, both for him and for me. i didn’t like the spotlight, and i didn’t want to deal with the rude comments by jealous girls, and he simply wasn’t ready to reveal our relationship yet.
i understood it, all of it.
yet, i couldn’t help but feel horrible about the situation i put myself in.
i watched as the girl brought on stage to be on his team was a little overly touchy, grabbing his arm, talking to him.
it was all in good-heart, i knew that, yet.. i still felt that twinge of my heart at every touch or glance or words spoken between them, telling me that it should be me on that stage making him laugh under his breath.
it hurt. my heart hurt from the guilt and sadness of being remained a secret, and i didn’t like it. at all.
i quickly wiped the tear from my cheek as i tried to remain positive seeing my boyfriend happy, and smiling, but it was hard with the constant flow of tears from my eyes that just didn’t seem to stop.
shit. why am i crying?
a voice is spoken from my phone, “alright, guys, we have to get going, but thank you so much for coming, it was a blast tonight!” nick said in the mic, turning to his brothers to signify it was time to go.
“awwww!” the crowd erupts.
“thank you guys!” matt’s distant voice says to the mic as he grabs his jacket and moves toward the exit.
chris waves goodbye to his parter that was brought onto the stage, giving her a quick smile and waving to the crowd as he followed his brother.
fuck. why did that hurt so bad? it shouldn’t, really.
i shut my phone off, tossing it across the tiny tour bed, and curled into myself. i brushed my tears away, running fingers through my hair.
it was all lighthearted, that’s what i should be thinking.
but the girl he was with was so beautiful. the kind of beautiful that makes your breath stop and your head feel dizzy.
looking at myself in the mirror across from the bed, i sigh.
chris should be with that kind of girl: effortlessly pretty, good smile, bubbly personality.. yet, i was the opposite. he clicked with her, because that was his match — the same loudness, eagerness, excitement and energy, she should be his type of match.
before i can spiral into my thoughts any longer, the door to the tour bus opens.
“oh my god, i’m spent.” nick huffs, placing his wallet and phone on the small table and falling against the couch.
“tell me about it, all day travelling and then a three hour show? i’m exhausted.” matt says, dropping his keys and jacket against the kitchen counter.
realizing they had already made their way to the bus, i quickly wipe my tears.
“hey, y/n.” nick waves, and i peek my head out, flashing the best smile i could.
“hi, nick.” i say back, huffing at the small croack in my voice.
and then, there was chris.
i watch as he walks over to me, smile on his face as he grabs my cheeks and kisses my forehead. “hi, baby.” he says, pulling away to look at my face.
and when his eyes land on my puffy eyes, tear stained cheeks, his brows furrow.
“are you.. okay?” he whispers, quickly glancing to nick and matt who shrug their shoulders. he lets go of my face, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.
“yeah, um, i’m — i’m fine.” i sniff, wiping my tears, “just missing home.”
his eyes run over my face, almost as if inspecting me.
he leans closer, whispering. “do you wanna go outside? so we can talk.”
i glance toward nick and matt, pretending not to be listening, yet they were horrible at hiding their curiosity.
looking back to chris, i nod. he gives me a smile, lending out his hand which i take. the warmth of his hand seeps into my palm, giving me almost instant comfort he seems to always be able to give me.
he leads me toward the door, making a silent, quick gesture and muttering for matt to move his ass, which he does.
and as soon as that door opens, and i take a step outside, i feel instantly calmed down. i realized now that i had spent basically the last twelve hours inside that trailer.
chris squeezes my hand as we walk down the road, listening to the soft sounds of the forest and buzzing streets of the city ahead of us.
and as we found a place against a wall, he sighs and stops, leaning against it.
“so.. what’s wrong?” he says, letting go of my hand, wiping a small tear that i hadn’t realized ran down my cheek.
“i dunno, i just —.. i think i’m overreacting, it’s nothing to really—“
“baby.” chris cuts my off, resting a hand on my cheek, “it’s just me,” he tucks my hair behind my ear, “talk to me.”
i bite my lip. ponder his words.
“that girl you were partnered with today on stage?” i offer.
“what about her?” he asks.
“it’s just.. i dunno.” i look to my hands, picking at my nails, “she was so beautiful. and funny, and outgoing..”
his brows furrow, “where are you going with this?”
my teeth sink back into my lip, “do you ever.. think about how different our lives are?
“i mean, i’m this college student, becoming a teacher, and you’re a celebrity.” i shrug my shoulders, “do you ever think about being with.. with someone more compatible?”
“wait, just—“
“that girl in there, she was just like you.” i chuckle, before sniffing, “loud, funny, all bubbly and smiley like that..”
“y/n—“
“and i’m just.. some book nerd.”
“Y/N.” chris says, placing two hands on my shoulders. “please, let me talk.
my lips form a tight line, my throat aching from a sob wanting to come from my throat.
“i love you.” he says in a breathy tone, “only you. i don’t care about how different our lives are; you’re the only girl i want.”
“you.. you love me?” i whisper.
a smile forms on his lips as he brushes a thumb across my cheek.
“of course i do, dummy.” he says, pulling me closer by a hand on my back clothed by his hoodie — his favourite hoodie.
“now, can you stop crying so i can kiss you?” he says, licking his lips, “‘been thinking about you the whole show.”
i giggle. “you’re such a loser.”
“only for you, baby.”
#chris sturniolo#sturniolo triplets x reader#sturniolo triplets#chris x reader#chris sturniolo x reader
597 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝔭𝔦𝔠𝔨 𝔞 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔡 : 𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 𝔞𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔫𝔢𝔵𝔱 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯
atlty’s tarot readings: art commissions, paid readings, spell ritual comms open!
choose a pile below:
part 1 of my christmas series!!!!
pile 1, reindeer friends with a cute snoot:
wow they could be quite rich! they could be from old money or enjoy spending daddy's / mommy's money.
they could be continuing a family's inheritance or legacy in their area of study or work.
they could enjoy nature or watch things grow.
they definitely put in long term strategies. they are probably good in investing money.
they have pretty good foresight. they could play a role of 'caregiver' a bit, like they will spoil you materially.
they could have a small waist regardless of gender, and tall.
they are a good negotiator and likes to make you smile.
they are someone who takes care of you deeply and wants to watch you prosper.
they want to steer you away from your bad troubles and only towards good days. they want to take away your pain.
you may meet them at a time of prosperous growth or when your life seems to be taking a turn to the next chapter.
pile 2, black cat in christmas lights:
they have a very strong energy, they could be a fire sign or enjoy gaming or group sports.
they are very assertive and tend to be more masculine.
they motivate others and you, and would literally fight off people to protect you.
they could feel challenged a lot, they may have trouble with their self worth, esteem, and ego.
they want to win arguments, they want you as their prize.
they could be blunt but quite persuasive. they could be good with words to make you happy or seduce you.
they would love to debate or banter playfully with you.
they could play sports that involve a stick, like hockey or polo.
they are very ambitious in their work with clear direction of where they want to go and achieve but lack proper emotional development.
they may need you to keep them in their lane sometimes with their bad days, but they would be so passionate with you.
pile 3, stag (james potter? should i start a hogwarts pac?):
they could be more soft and introverted than the rest of the piles here. they could have sadder eyes (in your opinion).
they could hurt people without knowing and suffer hollow victories.
they want to treat you like their forever lover with everything that they give you. they want you to glow and be a rainbow in their life.
they would be very attracted to you, you would be their type.
they could be blunt with words which they regret immediately after.
they see you as someone who can help heal them so they may come to you for comfort.
they could feel like an outcast in their peer crowds easily.
they run out of emotional energy quite quickly so you would help give them spiritual energy like a charger.
they would learn many emotional lessons from you. they never want to hurt you.
they could be avoidant when you two fight because of their nature to hurt people easily, but they want to always cherish you.
i hope you enjoyed this pac! please consider purchasing a paid reading by sliding into my dms. reblog and share if possible! i’d love to know if this resonates to you. thank you so much!
#witchblr#tarot#witchcraft#pac#tarotblr#pick a card#astrology#small business#divination#support#tarot readings#major arcana#cards#piles#free#paid
807 notes
·
View notes
Text
Buy my heart - 1
✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader
✦ Word count: ~1,2k
✦ Rating for this part: Mature
✦ Warnings/tags: Alpha!Bucky, Omega!Reader, slow burn, eventual smut, omega auction.
✦ Summary: Bucky buys you
✦ Note: Due note that this is a drabble series, the parts will be short but I still hope you enjoy it! Don't forget to come back and read Lloyd's series, set in the same verse! 😉 Bucky's scent is based of my favorite perfume of all time ÆTHER XTRÆM 🤤Reblogs, comments and asks are much appreciated!
Series masterlist
Masterlist | AO3
Everything is numb. As you stand on the podium in front of the faceless crowd with the lights in your eyes, you don't feel a thing, except the uncomfortable sensation of scent blocker on your skin. As soon as you pulled the thin dress on for the auction you decided that the only way you would survive this is if you just turn every emotion off.
Paddles go up. Paddles go down. The man beside you rambles fast but you don't listen. It's not irrelevant how much you sell for, since your family needs it to pay off their debt, but you can't take it in.
Instead, you focus on your breathing. The mask-covered mass in front of you is grass on a meadow on a windy day. Breathe in. They sway towards you. Breathe out. They sway away.
You don't want to look at who raises their paddle the most, and even if you did, you wouldn't be able to identify them since everyone's face is concealed by the same black mask. But you'd find yourself scrutinizing their hands and build, trying to guess if they're old or young. Honestly, you dread both: a young pup with an overly cocky attitude who knows nothing about caring for an omega, or an old lone wolf who is too frail to do anything himself and would require constant care.
The sharp crack of the club startles you from your self-induced meditation. That's when you finally hear the sum you've been sold for and some of the tension in your shoulders drains away. It's enough. Your family will be fine.
An attendant leads you away through dark corridors before leaving you in another changing room. They've brought your old clothes but you don't touch them. They smell like home. Like your family. And you can't go into this new life with it, you have to leave it behind.
If the attendant is confused about you still wearing the sheer dress they provided when they come and collect you, they don't let it show before walking you out.
The air is cold against your skin but there is a car idling just outside. Well, it's a limo. The driver opens the door and gestures for you to climb inside. Guess this is your ride. Time to meet your alpha.
Pressing down every feeling of panic and dread you walk on bare feet the short distance. The door shutting just behind you makes you jump. A moment later, the car starts moving.
The first thing you notice is that it's dim in the back of the limousine since the tinted windows don't let the streetlights in. The only illumination comes from small spots in the ceiling.
The second thing you notice is him. He's at the other end of the seat. Maskless with a glass of something in his hand that he swirls before taking a sip, staring at you over the rim. He's tall, broad-shouldered, short hair that looks soft with a neatly trimmed beard framing his face.
Then the smell hits you. It's easy to filter out the artificial notes of his cologne from what is his pure natural smell. It's a woody musky scent with a light tone of florals buried beneath that is not sharp or strong. It just fills your lungs with a warm, sensual feeling. For the first time in your life, you think you understand what other omegas rave about when they say that the smell of alpha is unlike anything else. The omega in you wants to slide up to him and rub yourself all over him, but you resist.
“Hello, little darling,” his rich voice fills the compartment. “Hello, sir,” you respond and is pleased when your voice doesn't waiver. “My name is James Buchanan Barnes. I prefer if you call me Bucky.” “Bucky,” you try, and nod, although it feels odd on your tongue. You've never addressed an alpha by a nickname before.
He doesn't ask for your name and you don't offer it, the less personal this is for you, the better. Bucky might have bought your body but your mind is still your own and he can never take it away from you. If he never calls you by your name, the better.
“Why do you still have that dress on?” he asks. You pluck at the fabric. “I couldn't take my old clothes with me.” “And no shoes?” “No, sir. I mean, Bucky.”
He picks up his phone. You hear the dial tone and then a woman's voice answers at the other end. “We need clothes, all types, but for tonight just get some underwear and something to sleep in. Then he directs his attention to you. “What size are you?” After hesitating a second, you tell him and he passes the information along before he hangs up.
The car slows and sounds as if it's driving on gravel. Bucky finishes his drink and studies you. There is a tick in his jaw as if he's irritated. Without a word, he starts taking off his suit jacket.
The blood in your veins turns cold and you press yourself back against the door. You don't want him to touch you. The dress might be sheer but the thought of being naked with him in the back of the limo is not appealing in the least.
But his actions surprise you. He holds out the jacket for you. “Wear this. My men are loyal but I don't need them to ogle you and get distracted.” There is no hiding the way your fingers tremble as you take it from him. After putting it on you realize that in a way, he's marked you with his scent now, but without touching you. It shouldn't make you pleased, but it does.
When the car comes to a stop you reach for the handle but with something very close to a growl he instructs, “Wait there,” before stepping out. You pull your hand back quickly and place it in your lap. Moments later the door opens. “Since you don't have any shoes, I'll carry you,” he explains, reaching for you, but you shuffle away. “I'll be fine, I promise, you don't need to do that.” His jaw ticks again. “No, you will hurt your feet, darling. Come here, now.” You hesitate still, but you're not prepared to find out what the next tell of irritation might be, or if the twitch in his jaw is the only warning you're going to get.
You move closer to him and hardly have time to process what happens before you're in his arms. He carries you near his body with your face pressed against his fine dress shirt. It's dark outside but the mansion he carries you towards is well lit. There is no doubt James Buchanan Barnes is a very rich man.
After stepping inside he still doesn't put you down. You want to object but decide against it as he carries you up a flight of stairs and into a room, where he puts you down on a soft carpet, then steps back.
“Clothes should be here in about twenty minutes. When was the last time you ate?” “Uhm, this morning?” “Allergies?” “No, but I really don’t like tomatoes.” “I'll inform the chef,” he nods, before continuing, “This is your room. Mine is across the hall. For tonight, stay here, I'll have food brought up. Tomorrow I’ll give you a tour and we'll talk about what is expected of you going forward.” You nod. “I suggest you take a nice long bath, before eating and going to bed.” “Yes, Bucky.” Your obedience seems to please him because the lines between his eyebrows disappear. “Have a good night, little darling.” And then he leaves.
next
#veltana writes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader#alpha!bucky x omega!reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#alpha!bucky#alpha!bucky barnes#omegaverse
251 notes
·
View notes
Text
a body of impulses
lukas matsson x f!roy!reader (succession)
★chapter 2★
wc: 7.5k+
warnings: toxic family dynamics, drinking, very mild violence, smut, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, corruption kink (if you squint), oral sex (f! recieving), fingering (f!recieving), handjobs, cum eating, spit, clothed sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), biting, so much making out, praise, size difference, no use of y/n
summary: The youngest Roy meets Lukas Matsson at her brother's birthday party. Limerence strikes like lightening. Self-control snaps. Attachment blooms.
author's note: I'm considering making this a short series? Let me know what you think! please consider liking, commenting, or reblogging if you enjoyed!
It made you feel strangely childish, running through the darkened rooms of the event space, carefully stepping with bent knees to reduce your risk of falling from the extra few inches your heels provided you. Looking over your shoulder at the dwindling silhouettes of your siblings, you checked to be sure they didn’t think your disappearance was too suspicious. Of course, they were too transfixed with themselves. They were staring at the large, falsified, magazine covers of themselves hung on the walls of the open space.
Connor was still making a fuss, comforted by Willa. You noticed a few attendants coming over to begin the process of removing his personalized poster from public view. Meanwhile, Shiv and Roman had their heads together, no doubt constructing some plan to turn Kendall’s birthday into a business opportunity. You rolled your eyes lightly, turning back around to peer through the small crowd at your older brother’s bomber jacket.
“Ken… Hey Kendall! Wait up!” You called out to him, your voice only a little louder than your normal speaking tone to carry over the techno music. He heard you, apparently, turning to lock eyes with you. You trotted up to him, grateful that the room you were in was mostly empty of partygoers. The walls were big screens flashing with fire, the orange light lighting up Kendall's face as he looked at you. Flames flickered in the pupils of his eyes and you almost laughed at the ironic symbolism of the moment.
“So, I know Rome gave you something earlier, I don’t know what, but uh, I got you a card too.” You opened your small clutch and pulled out a white envelope, Kendall’s name written on it in your neat cursive handwriting.
“You did?” His eyebrows raised, accentuating the few rows of wrinkles in his forehead. Taking the envelope from your hand, he turned it around in his fingers, almost like he couldn’t believe it was real. You bit your lower lip and nodded, hands moving to clasp behind your back.
“Yeah, I um… didn’t want to give it to you around them,” you nodded your head in the general direction of the rest of your siblings. “I know things have been, like, weird… lately. But, It’s your birthday and I love you and so I got you something.” Smiling on the last word, your tone raised the slightest bit. Kendall’s brows were still furrowed, but he nodded and ripped the envelope open to produce the card.
It was a cliche store bought birthday card, the front of it adorned in a goofy catchphrase and the picture of a dachshund. You saw his lips twitch the slightest bit as he read the front, a full smile forming as he opened the card. The stereotypical joke’s punchline was delivered and sandwiched inside the folded paper was an old photo of the two of you as children. He picked it up between his thumb and pointer finger, turning it over to find the date it was taken and both of your names written on the back.
A small laugh escaped his mouth, his pointed grin blooming over his face as he turned the photo to face you. Pictured were the two of you, outside at the Hamptons house on a sunny day. You were young, maybe a few years old and Kendall was an older teenager. The younger version of yourself sat on his shoulders, your hands coming down to cradle his face while his hands held onto your ankles. Your tongue was sticking out at the photographer, he had noticed your face and was in the midst of an open-mouthed laugh when the photo was captured.
It was a nod to your younger years, when Kendall filled more of a fatherly role than a brotherly one. You had written on the inside of the card, the message reading: “Happy birthday Ken. I love you always, no matter what,” with a heart and your signature ending the note.
“What do you think?”
“Are you kidding, I love it. God, I- I haven’t seen that picture in years.” He tucked the photo back away and held the card in one hand while he embraced you.
“Right?! I found it the other day when I was looking through some old diaries. That was such a good summer.” You beamed at him as you spoke. He hadn’t been this happy around you in weeks, maybe even months.
“It was. At least, by our standards.” Kendall chuckled a bit with the memory. “This is- it’s just great. Thank you.” You pulled him into another hug, he tucked his nose into your hair and planted a soft kiss on your head.
“I’m glad you like it. I really love you Ken, don’t forget that.” You looked into his eyes as you said it, a sad smile on your face at the intensity behind your words. He just nodded, squeezing you tight one last time before releasing your frame.
“Here, come on. I’m gonna show you something.” He took your hand then, leading you through the throng of people enjoying his birthday party, nobody sparing him a second glance as he walked by.
That was how you ended up with a rainbow bracelet around your wrist and a too-strong drink in your hand, standing behind the rope blocking off Kendall’s private treehouse from the rest of the party. Your clutch fell around your wrist loosely, your fingers prodding at the straw in your cocktail as your siblings bickered in front of you.
“You’re getting worked up about a treehouse? Do you know how ridiculous that is?” Kendall shut the rope divider in front of Roman, turning his attention to a newcomer entering the space. “Hey, come in. Wristband him.” He nodded to the security guards.
“Yeah, wristband this guy. Uh, what’s his name?”
“No idea.”
“Good, so good. So random, unknown man and our baby sister can come in, but not us?” Roman talked with his arms, navy blue suit jacket riding up to show the skin of his wrists. Shiv crossed hers as he spoke, rippling the green fabric at the front of her chest, eyes staring daggers into you.
“Yeah so the thing is, and- I already said this, she’s cool. You’re not.” Kendall gestured to you and you gave a weak smile to your excluded siblings.
“Fucking bullshit.” Roman ran a hand through his hair.
“See these two? Don’t let these two in okay. She’s good, they’re not.” Kendall pointed to the three of you as he talked to the guard, a tall blonde man in a black tshirt. “This is my treehouse. You shouldn’t be anywhere near here.”
Shiv and Rome were in disbelief, still trying to reason with your eldest brother as he turned away from them and towards you. He put an arm on your back, guiding you to walk away from the scene and into the exclusive treehouse. You couldn’t help turning to look over your shoulder, glancing at your two neglected siblings with wide eyes. Roman had begun walking away, but Siobhan was still standing there, arms folded. As she caught your gaze, she rolled her eyes and shook her head in shock before finally moving to follow her brother deeper into the party, beginning to speak to him as she walked.
Kendall cursed under his breath as he led you into his treehouse. It was honestly eerie to see the structure again. You had too much of an age gap with Kendall to have played with him in it as a child, but on more than one occasion you had wandered up into it on your own, looking for a place to escape the aggressive family dynamic that arose wherever your siblings were in close proximity. There was even a time when you were a young teenager you had accidently busted Kendall for smoking weed in the treehouse during a family get together. He ended up paying you handsomely to keep quiet, which you did, never uttering a word about it to this day. You were nothing if not loyal.
The inside of this reconstructed treehouse was much different than the structure of your childhood. For one, it was massive. The treehouse you remembered could barely fit all four of you kids in it, definitely not the few dozen that stood milling about in the new space. The interior was dark. Black walls, wooden dividers and glass windows made up most of the area, with some modern light fixtures and lanterns set around to provide a warm glow. The outermost walls were made to look like the outdoors, a forest of sorts with shadows and cool tones to outline the trees. A wooden fence sat in front of the forest walls, making the entire space feel strangely like an outdoor balcony or patio. The music was lighter in this area, though still a techno party beat playing just loud enough that conversations were had in louder tones than normal. There were more earthy toned chairs, couches and tall tables filling the space than other areas in the event, and more partygoers milling about and chatting rather than dancing.
“Oh here, come on.” Kendal had been talking, mostly to himself for a few seconds, just rambling about your shitty siblings. You tuned back into his words as he spoke in your ear and turned you in a specific direction with the hand on your lower back. Your eyes searched around the room, not recognizing what was drawing Kendall until he spoke again.
“There he is, Lukas Mattson. The Odin’ of codin’.” Finally you noticed the blonde man sitting just a few feet in front of you. His tall frame was dwarfed by the way he sat on the bench, lanky with one leg hitched up and a beer in his hand, but as he sat up you immediately recognized his face. “My man, my myth, my fucking monolith. What’s up bro? You havin’ a good time?”
“Do I look like I’m having a good time?” Lukas’s gaze darted from Kendall to yourself, your eye contact lingering for just a second long enough to provoke you to turn your stare to the ground in reservation.
“No, you do not.”
“I am not.”
“Still haven’t figured out the socials, huh? Dude, you should get your algo guy to fix your code.” Your eyes lifted at that, and you smiled at the tone of your brother’s voice. Your hands came to raise the glass you had held at your side to your mouth. You drank through the thin black straw, the artificially colored liquid stinging your throat a bit as you swallowed heavily. Mattson didn’t respond to that, cocking his head at Kendall’s comment, pointedly looking at you, and shifting back to stare at him again.
“Oh uh yeah, this is my sister,” Kendall introduced you with your name, and you gave a small smile to Lukas in greeting. “Listen, heads up, my siblings are looking for you now.”
“And you led one of them straight to me?” He didn’t acknowledge your greeting, but his gaze continued to linger on you, a new softness behind his eyes.
“Yeah, well, she’s cool. She won’t try to get to sell your soul like the other two. Shiv and Roman, they’re like emissaries from the Grand Duke of Old. Dad wants to buy you, so he sent his winged dildos to schmooze.”
“I shouldn’t say anything, even the look on my face is commercially sensitive.”
“But it makes, like, no sense, correct? Amtrak buys Tesla? If anything, you should buy him.” Your eyebrows furrowed the smallest bit at Kendall’s suggestion, turned your head to look up at him. He was too engrossed in his conversation to notice your confusion, but the way Mattson cocked an eyebrow showed that he did.
“You think?” You turned your attention back to Lukas, taking another sip of your drink. “Well, I really appreciate your impartial read.” He leaned his head towards Kendall, speaking lowly, like his words were a secret.
“ Kendall? Uh, Rava wants to say hi.” Comfrey had appeared behind you, moving quickly and quietly in a way you’d come to appreciate. You didn’t even notice her presence until she spoke, fidgeting with the phone in her hand.
“Sure, uh not right now. When I’m ready.” Kendall dismissed her and Comfrey slinked back into the shadows of the party, waiting for him to finish his conversation. “Listen, you should stay up here, okay? So you don’t get networked to fuck. Uh, here,” He spoke your name, addressing you for the first time since he’d begun talking to Lukas, “Keep the cronies away from him. And the sibs.”
“Um… okay.” It felt like more of a command than a request, but you agreed despite your annoyance.
“Yeah, yeah. Enjoy, man.” With a wave, Kendall left, following Comfrey into a new area of the night’s festivities.
You stood for a moment, awkward and self conscious, twirling your drink’s straw between your thumb and index finger. Biting your lower lip, you made eye contact with Mattson, realizing he had been staring at you this whole time.
“Hi, sorry, I don’t think we’ve met before.” You finally spoke, offering a small smile to the man in front of you.
“No, we haven’t. I know you though. The youngest Roy? The virtuous daughter?” He motioned as he joked with you, the beer in his hand sloshing around in its brown glass bottle.
“I don’t know about that.” You laughed, moving to sit by him on the wooden bench he occupied. “You can’t believe everything you see in the media, I thought you would know that better than anyone.”
“Maybe. Your lack of involvement with your family’s scandals speaks for itself, though. You’re a saint compared to your father and brothers.” His Swedish accent peeked through his words, making his sentences flow together like music.
“Well, I’ve had less time to fuck things up. I joined the company much later than them, I only finished college a few years ago.” Shrugging while you spoke, you tried your best to dismiss his implications. Your momentary status as a neutral bridge between your feuding family was something you couldn’t bear to lose.
Mattson hummed before answering, nodding his head slowly as he looked you up and down. “And you aren’t going to use this time to try and convince me to sell?”
You shook your head, a shy smile coming to your face. “Honestly? I don’t really want to. I think you’ve already decided what you want to do, and no amount of my bargaining will change that.”
“You’re smart.”
“I try.”
Lukas grinned at you, “Do you always do what your brother tells you to?”
“No, I just want to make him happy.” You shook your head slightly, feeling a little embarrassed at your obvious obedience to your family. It’s not like you don’t think for yourself, it’s just that sometimes complying is easier than the alternative. “You’re not enjoying the party?”
“No. Are you?”
“Not really. Crowds aren’t my favorite thing. And these drinks are way too strong.” You set down your drink on the floor near the bench, the liquor was beginning to give you a headache.
“But you came to support Kendall?” You nodded. He raised his eyebrows. “And you still say you aren’t obedient to him?”
“I…” You bit your lip lightly, not sure of how much information you should really reveal to this man. He was an adversary, but something about Lukas made you want to be honest with him. Maybe it was his eyes, or his casual posture, but you felt like leaning into his warmth, however strange it may be. “Well, you did call me virtuous. Maybe I just need to rebel a little, give into impulses for once.”
It was a joke, you both knew it, but the smirk on Mattson’s face felt a bit serious. “That’s an idea.”
You smiled at him, a little blush coming to your cheeks at the suggestion in his sentence. He had moved a bit closer to you through your conversation, and now his knee brushed gently against your. His hand comes down to innocently brush out a wrinkle in the skirt of your dress, resting gently on your thigh for a moment too long before moving away.
“Hey! There you are, fucking hiding from me. Like a human VPN.” The sound of Roman’s voice snapped the two of you from the silence of the shared moment. You quickly adjusted your posture so your leg was crossed away from Lukas, adding a bit of distance between your bodies. “I see someone already found you. How are you doing?”
“I’m all right, just enjoying the company. It’s just, uh, you can fill in the blanks.” You subtly glared at your brother as Mattson spoke, immediately aware of his attempt to cut you from the conversation.
“How’d you get up here Rome? I thought Kendall had you banned from the premises.” Roman perched on a chair across from the pair of you, rolling up his sleeves as he sat.
“I paid a girl to give the security a blowjob, what do you think?” Sarcasm was thick in his voice as he spoke to you. “Hey Mattson, uh, question. My old man- our old man,” He made a motion between you and himself, “got a bit grumpy this morning, but you weren’t trying to humiliate him, right? I mean, fucking everyone says, last big legacy content library, last big fucking super app streaming platform. We obviously fit right?”
“People say we fit.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Roman runs a hand through his hair, a nervous tick you’ve come to know. You can tell he's worried at the frankness of Lukas’s responses.
“Stargo is really, really shitty, though. Your genius would really help us out, if you end up selling to Waystar” You raised your eyebrows as you addressed Lukas. The anxiety radiating off of Roman made you want to pitch in, help him, although you still thought your haggling wouldn’t affect Mattson’s final decision.
“I do have one question before we start these.. negotiations. Like, I don’t wanna be rude but.. What kind of shape is your father in? How long will he be around, we’re talking one year… five years..?” Roman is shocked quiet at Mattson’s forwardness, his hands running down the sides of his face as he tried to formulate a response that won’t fuck the deal he’s working to build.
“Well, you mean, you just don’t want him hanging over you, right? Looking over your shoulder all the time, especially while you work” You ask in his stead. Lukas nods. “Well what if you don’t have to talk to him? Like, ever?” Looking over to Roman, you try to throw him a lead to jump back into the conversation.
“Yeah, you work out of, uh, Austin, London, Stockholm, Geneva, whatever. It’s just totally separate companies and we burn Stargo.” Rome catches up, making a contribution to your schmoozing. “And on the occasion that you need to send up a fսcking smoke signal from Geneva, then that goes through me.”
“We can do that together.”
“So, I know GoJo is your baby, and we don’t want to interfere with that at all. So, bearing that in mind, would you consider meeting with my dad?” Roman clasps his palms together and points them towards Lukas.
“Yeah, well, if all this is true, then... yeah.”
“How's Monday?”
“Monday is great.”
“And if I were to shake your hand right now, could I go tell my dad that I basically just bought GoJo for him?”
“No.” Lukas chuckles, pauses to take a sip from his beer. “But you can tell him I'm in the conversation.”
“I’ll fucking take it.” Roman smiles and takes a deep breath before standing from his seat. “I will see you then, I have a call to make” He pulls his phone out as he walks away, already starting to dial in the numbers.
You take a moment to be silent, watching his frame fade into the crowd until you turn to Lukas. He’s looking at you too, head tilted and grin plastered across his face.
“I thought Kendall told you not to let him speak to me.”
“I thought I told you, I’m trying to be more rebellious.” You smile back at him, switching the way you cross your legs to let your bare knee touch the fabric of his pants.
You stay that way, speaking to Mattson and letting him subtly touch your arm, back, leg, for the better part of an hour. It hadn’t been your plan to stay so long, just make a quick appearance for Kendall’s sake and head home before midnight, but you found yourself not wanting to end your dialog with Lukas, causing you to push back your exit further and further. He grabs you a new drink from one of the servers walking through the party, a cocktail that luckily tastes much better than your previous refreshment. Well, maybe not so luckily, since you end up drinking enough to get yourself buzzed and bolder than normal.
You’re self aware enough to draw back when you notice your siblings entering the room again, Roman giving a small wave before heading to a different seating area. You don’t pay him much mind until Shiv enters the area as well, hair frizzy and makeup smudged. She seems pissed, he seems drunk, it all looks like a recipe for failure. Roman perches on a chair, glass of wine in his hand, Shiv turns to leave but gets drawn by some comment he makes.
“I’m sorry- maybe I should…” You look back at Mattson, your conversation had lulled for a few seconds as your attention had turned to your siblings.
“Have to go babysit?” He smiles at you, a bit condescending, but not enough to make you upset. You don’t respond for a second, biting your lip and looking between your current company and the scene between your family.
“I just…” The words come at as a sigh, your head lulling back in exhaustion as you notice Kendall and Naomi breaking through the crowd to engage in Shiv and Roman’s antics. “Things always get out of hand when I’m not there to mediate. But I’m so fucking tired of having to be the good one all the time”
“You don’t have to be, just take a step back, watch shit unfold. Rebel, remember?” Mattson’s blue eyes are dark in the lighting and his eyebrows are raised, daring you. You smile, nod, take a sip of your drink. “It’s actually good entertainment when you aren’t involved.”
Deciding to take a break from your role as peacemaker, you turn to face your siblings in your seat, the same direction Lukas is sitting. You feel his bent knee brush against your back and lean into a bit, something not visible from your sibling’s position. You allow yourself to stay that way until you notice Roman moving to get up. That sparks you to rise, set your drink down, murmur an apology to Lukas, and quickly run over to the circle of your siblings.
“You know you want to, just fucking hit me, do it. ‘I’m not a real person’ fuck you.” Rome’s words are charged, he’s too close to Kendall for your comfort and you see his next action coming a mile away, without any way to stop it. “All right, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Happy birthday fuckface.”
Two hands hand on Kendall’s back as he turns to walk away, a push from them sending him falling onto his face in the middle of the party. You know Roman didn’t mean to push him so hard, he wasn’t thinking clearly, but the result was the same regardless of his intent.
“What the fuck Rome? Why would you do that?” You move to help Kendall up with Naomi, turning your head to yell at your other brother, who was laughing at his actions.
“Everybody just take it easy, okay?” You didn’t even notice Connor’s presence until he spoke.
“Oh shit, are you okay? Happy birthday.” Roman laughed through his words. Kendall pushed you away from him in embarrassment when he stood, Naomi giving you a look telling you that she had it covered.
“Take your coat off. Take your fucking coat off.” He didn’t look back at Roman, didn’t address his comments, just spat anger at Connor as he was ushered away. Just a few hours ago he was fine, you didn’t know what could’ve caused him to crash so hard since you’d last seen him.
“Like a fucking eight year old. You're an asshole.” Shiv speaks briefly before marching away, Roman still giggling at his own antics.
“It’s funny. It’s funny! You’re gonna laugh at it later.”
You moved to face your brother, pushing his shoulder back against the chair he had moved to sit in. “Clean your fucking act up. You do one thing right and think you can get away with anything. I love you, but don’t be so fucking stupid, Roman.” Your words seem to break through, he stops laughing for a minute to shoot you a dirty look. Not waiting to see his response, you turn and quickly walk towards the nearest exit of the area, pulling your phone out of your clutch to message your driver.
“Leaving?” Lukas’s voice next to you startles you, and you shoot him a weak smile.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, I need to get out of here. I just can’t be near them right now.” He walks with you, humming in understanding as you speak.
“Why don’t you leave with me? Get your mind off them.” You stop walking then, now only a few yards from the exit of the venue. Crossing your arms, you lightly rock back and forth on the balls of your feet.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?”
He shrugs. “Maybe.”
“If someone found out…”
“Think for yourself. Be impulsive for once.”
His words give you pause. Normally you would deny him, deny the aching between your thighs that his presence gave you. You’d head home and masturbate until you passed out, report to your Dad in the morning, never speak to the man again. But you were so, so tired of being good.
“Okay. Let’s do it. My driver’s here, we can pull around and pick you up in a few minutes.” Thinking quickly, you come up with a simple plan to stop the public from seeing you leave together. He nods, smiles, and reaches for your phone. You let him take it, let him put his number in and hand it back to you, fingers lingering on yours.
“Text me when you’re here.”
The ride to Lukas’s hotel room is intense. You have enough discretion to raise the divider between the front and back seats of the car, blocking the view of yourself from your driver. But once that black panel separated you, Mattson was merciless. He wasted no time in pulling you into his lap, kissing you roughly and palming your chest with his large hands. You barely came up for breath the entire ride to his hotel, and when you did your neck was immediately attacked. He marked your skin with hickeys and bites, leaving you gasping for air. Trying your best to quiet your moans and whimpers, you covered your mouth with your hand whenever you could, but you doubted your driver couldn’t hear the noises Lukas pulled from you. You tipped them an extra thousand dollars just in case.
He gave you a break while you hurried through the hotel, standing close to you but not touching you, even in the elevator. It gave you plausible deniability. Though if your reflection was any judge, the already darkening marks on your neck spoke for themselves. Mattson is so stoic in public it has you questioning if he even wants this. If he wants you the way that he did in the car. But, as he holds the door open for you to enter his hotel suite, your question is answered.
The hotel suite is modern, with several separate rooms adorned in black, white, and gray decorations. The farthest wall of the living room, the space you’ve walked into, consists of glass windows which offer a gorgeous view of the city’s nighttime lights. You take a moment to look around, throwing your clutch over to an entryway table and walking towards the windows. Your reflection is just barely visible in the glass, your silhouette a sliver of light against the darkness of the New York skyline. Your head tilts to the side a bit, and you reach a hand forward to press against the glass. Maybe it’s the alcohol in your bloodstream, or the lust making your heart beat faster than normal, but you don’t even notice Lukas approach until his reflection joins yours in the window. You look up and slightly behind you, catching his eyes with yours. His pupils are wide and dark, his lids heavy and narrowed with intent.
He places a hand on your chin, tilting you up as he bends down to reach your lips. It starts soft, lips barely parted and eyes closed. Your body follows the tilt of your head, moving to face him and place your hands around his neck. His hands travel to your butt, using his leverage to press you against him. His tongue slips inside your mouth, his movements speed up. Hands begin to grope at your ass, squeezing and pawing you through your gown. It’s rough, but there’s no anger or malice behind his moments, only eagerness.
A hand moves up to the small of your back, lightly rubbing the fabric on your skin in an almost soothing motion. When you finally break the kiss for air, Lukas moves, nuzzling into the crook of your neck to place sloppy kisses there. You’re breathless, but craving his mouth so badly you direct his head back up to yours with a hand in his hair. He groans into your mouth when you press your chest against his, your boobs straining against your dress. The kisses become dirty and wet. He bites at your lower dip and pulls it a bit. You trace the roof of his mouth with your tongue. Your thighs are squeezing together now, softly grinding into each other to provide some kind of sensation to your throbbing clit.
You finally say something when his hands move to pull up the skirt of your dress, breaking the kiss with an inhale for breath before quickly speaking.
“Wait, wait.” He does. Pauses his movements but keeps his fingers in the fabric of the dress. “I’m -I uh, haven’t had sex before. And I don’t want to lose my virginity to someone I’m not dating. Or like, in a relationship with.”
“Okay. Can I still make you cum?”
“Oh, um, sure. Yes.” He’s unfazed by your words, gives you a little smile and another messy kiss before dipping to kneel in front of you. He presses soft kisses to your lower stomach, just barely lifting your dress to expose the very bottom of your panties. When he moves to kiss the front of your mound though, you freeze.
“What are you doing?”
“I was planning on eating your pussy. Is that okay?”
“You want to do that?”
“I would like to, yes.”
“Uh, yeah, okay. I just haven't done this before.” He looks up at you with his piercing blue eyes, waiting until you give him a firm answer. “Can you maybe just tell me what you’re doing? Like, before you do it?”
“I can do that.”
“Okay, okay. Thank you.” You smile down at him, blushing a bit in embarrassment from your lack of knowledge. He returns a small grin, before moving to kiss the front of your pubic bone again. This time, you let him.
He muzzles his nose into the fabric there briefly, before moving his fingers to rub against your panties. They’re soaked, drenched from your time in the car and the heavy making out you had just finished. He chuckles lowly to himself as he feels this, his touch featherlight.
“You’re so wet. Are you that turned on already?” You bite your lower lip and nod, chest beginning to rise and fall quicker.
“I’m going to touch you underneath your panties, is that okay?”
“Yes.”
He nods at you then, using his thumb to hook your underwear to the side, exposing your cunt to the cold night air. Two long fingers move on either side of your slit, giving pressure just outside of where you need it so badly. You whimper at his motions, muffling the sound by pressing your lips together. His index finger moves then, gently grazing over your clit as it travels the length of your vulva, collecting wetness as it does. A few gentle circles around your entrance before returning to your clit, finally pressing there and beginning to trace patterns into the bundle of nerves.
It feels divine. You’d gotten good at pleasing yourself with your twenty plus years of abstinence, but it felt so delicious to have someone else touch the most sensitive parts of your body. Especially someone who knew what they were doing. And from the way Lukas was moving, he knew exactly what he was doing. His index finger drew circles with your clit, joined shortly after by his middle finger to fully pressure the bud. Your head tips back then, brushing the window behind you as a moan escapes your mouth.
“Don’t fight your noises, I want to hear how good you feel.” The only response you have to his command is to let another whine pass your lips, an action which you hear him groan at. Your fingers move down to grab at your dress, pulling it higher up to expose your bottom half fully, balling your hands into fists in the fabric.
“Fuck, I’m taking these off.” The pressure on your clit stops for a moment, and you lean your head down to look at him. His fingers loop in the sides of your panties to pull them down your thighs. As they reach your calves, you move a hand to his shoulder and stabilize yourself so you can raise your feet out of the garment. You step your last foot out of your panties, and instead of discarding them to the floor, Lukas balls the fabric up, stuffing it in his back pants pocket. He just smiles up at your confused expression, not bothering to explain.
“I’m going to taste you now, okay?”
You nod, and Lukas moves close to you, so close you end up with your back pressed against the window. He lightly holds one of your legs, moving it up and over his shoulder, allowing him better access to your now naked cunt. He leans forward, and with the flat of his tongue, licks a long stripe across your pussy. The feeling is new and exciting, hot and wet and just the right amount of strength. You move a hand to thread through his hair, your other one pressing against the glass behind you to hold you in place.
His tongue fucks you like you’re his favorite taste, diving in and out of your already soaked folds. When he sucks your clit into his mouth, you choke back more of a scream than a moan. The leg on his shoulder begins to shake, and your brows knit together in ecstasy. It’s unlike anything you’ve felt before, you don’t ever want it to stop. Your climax begins building at a rapid pace, and you feel yourself grinding against Lukas’s tongue, chasing your pleasure with impulsive motions. He lets out a low moan against you, a buzzing hum that vibrates through your body.
“Fuck Lukas, please don’t stop.” The words come out breathless, followed by a whimper and preceded by a groan. He hums against you again and doubles his efforts, moving his tongue to fuck into your enterance while two fingers come up to rub quickly against your clit. It’s only a few seconds before the tension building in your stomach finally snaps, and with a languid moan you fall apart under Lukas Matsson’s tongue.
You aren’t even sure what noises escape your lips, too lost in bliss to focus on anything but absolute pleasure. He keeps eating you out until you’re over sensitive and almost pushing his face away, and even then he continues lightly stroking your folds with a few fingers. When you look down at him, his chin is covered in your juices and his pants are tented with an obvious erection.
“Oh my god.”
“That good?”
“Kiss me again?”
He does, of course. Raises from his knees to grab your chin and pull you into his body, not bothering to wipe his mouth before capturing your lips with his. You can taste yourself on him, tangy and rich and intoxicating. The flavor only spurs you on, pressing your lips to his roughy. He’s hard against your stomach, a feeling that both arouses you and causes some anxiety. Lukas seems content to kiss you forever, tasting your lips like a man starved. When he pulls away to kiss down your neck, you take a moment to speak.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“I… want you to feel good too.”
“You want to get me off?” You nod in response.
“Will you show me what to do? What you like?”
“Sure. Here, come with me.” He smiles at you, grabs your hand with his, and gently leads you over to the couch in the room. It’s a big, white sectional facing a massive TV. Lukas moves to sit back against it, gently pulling you to sit close to him, nearly sitting in his lap. His erection is even more obvious in this position, his length looking painfully hard against his thigh.
“Can I touch you?” You look up at him with wide eyes, your hand moving to his thigh while you wait for a response. He leans back and nods at you, a slightly cocky grin on his face. Gently, so gently, your hand moves to palm over his cock. He hums as you make contact, quietly encouraging your timid rubbing.
Fingers explore the imprint of his length in his pants, finger tracing the outline of his cock cautiously. You looked up at him through your lashes, noticing the way his face twitched and changed with your increases in pressure. Pressing a bit harder, you touch him with long strokes, beginning a pattern with your movements. Lukas’s tongue darts out to wet his lower lip. Something in his stare feels animalistic, like a predator watching its prey. Maybe that should scare you, but if anything it stirs you on, makes you want to please him even more.
“Will you take these off?” Your hands move to his waistband, finger slipping underneath the fabric there, pulling it teasingly from his skin.
“Of course.” He smirks, uses the back of the couch to prop his hips up, and slowly pulls his pants down his thighs. He doesn’t bother with leaving his briefs, pulling his underwear off with the same motion, leaving only exposed skin in his wake.
His cock springs up, brushing against his shirt slightly, leaving a small wet spot from the precum on his tip. He’s long, not that you have much to compare it to, and thin, with a red-pink head already leaking. You take a moment to touch him again, slowly sliding your hand across the skin of his thigh until your fingers graze the short blonde hairs at the base of his shaft. Your hand wraps around him, fingers barely touching. His dick is double the length of your hand, standing tall with a slight curve upwards.
You’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t intimidated. Slowly, eyes flickering from Lukas’s face to your hand and back again, you began to stroke him. Your hand gently raised from his base to tip, your thumb grazing over his slit. This elicits a soft gasp from Lukas, a sound that makes you give him a shy smile. The hand on his cock moves back down, your other moving to rest gently on his thigh as you slightly adjust to face him better. Your motions are stuttering and unpracticed, hindered by the dryness of both your skin. Lukas doesn’t seem to mind, his breath coming faster and his hips slightly moving to guide the travel of your hand.
“I think…” You bite your lower lip in thought, your eyebrows coming together as your sentence trails off. Bending over Lukas’s lap slightly, you look up at him through your dark eyelashes, and let a string of spit fall from your tongue onto his cock.
The effect on him is immediate, a deep curse falling from his lips as his dick twitches in your grip. His head falls back against the couch, his eyes shut softly. You don’t know if it’s the sensation of the spit on his sensitive tip, or the fact that you were doing something so dirty, but he seems to love your impulsive choice. Your hand gets into a better rhythm, moving much easier as you spread the wetness across the skin of his cock.
“Fuck, how did you know about that?” Lukas is breathless, but still chuckling through his words.
“I didn't, it just seemed like you needed something wet…”
He curses again, hums in agreement. You just blush in response, moving your attention back to his length in front of you. Your grip tightens, your motions speed up a bit. The sound of skin fills the room, joined by low hums and moans from Lukas’s throat. The heat between your thighs begins to return, a dull throb causing you to grind your thighs together.
“Does that feel good?” Your voice is quiet and laced with desire when you speak.
“Mhm.” A lazy grin is on Lukas’s face, his arms are spread wide across the back of the couch. “You’re doing so good.”
The compliment goes straight to your cunt, sparks traveling down your thighs at the praise. You move faster, leaning into him more as your hand speeds up, giving him a view of your cleavage. You don’t even notice the desperate whimper that escapes you, but he does.
“Just like that, fuck. Good. Good girl.” Lukas sits up more, a hand moving rest on your thigh as his body begins to tense up. His eyebrows pull together as you continue stroking. Your motions have gotten rough and fast, a physical exhibition of the desperation running through your veins. A string of curses heavily veiled in a Swedish accent leaves Lukas’s mouth, his hips buck roughly into your fist, and with a groan, Lukas Mattson comes in your hand.
Strings of white coats your skin, the fabric of your skirt, the bottom of Lukas’s shirt. He continues thrusting into your hand, chasing his release until he falls against the couch, panting and smiling and spent. Your eyes travel from his face to the ribbons of come on your hand. Instinctually, you bring it to your mouth, licking up the liquid before your thoughts get in the way.
“You are insane.” Lukas’s voice brings you back to the world. He reaches over and guides you to move into his lap. You straddle him, his softening cock sandwiched between your torsos. He’s all smiles, face blissed out and eyes soft. He brings a hand to your chin, looking into your eyes before placing a surprisingly light kiss to your lips.
Things are quiet for a moment, your head tucked into Lukas’s neck and his hands around the small of your back. It feels delicate, almost loving, almost corny. It partially scares you, being so intimate with someone you’ve just met, with someone so powerful. But the captivation outweighs the fear. He feels like the Earth; strong, devoted, all-consuming. You could try to leave but he would be everywhere, and you would come back to him.
You stay at Lukas’s that night, wrapped in white sheets with his arm thrown languidly across your waist. In the morning, he tells you that’s the best he’s slept in weeks. You let him see you with smeared makeup and messy hair, listen to him talk about Stockholm and pasta and the sun. He texts you to make sure you get home safe, then texts you a photo of him working on his laptop. You can’t help the smile that comes to your face when you talk to him, one so obvious you have to hide it in public. He calls you every night.
It’s the closest you’ve come to a relationship, even if it’s something you need to hide from the world. He’s funny and weird and bold and drastic. You feel his hands on your skin in your dreams, like your body is a memory of his touch. He makes you happy, makes you perverted. Things move fast and slow at the same time. It’s confusing and clear all at once.
You’d choose it all over again if you could go back
© secondhand-snow 2024
#ao3#fanfic#fanfiction#succession#succession fanfic#alexander skarsgard#lukas matsson#lukas matsson x reader#lukas matsson x you#lukas matsson x ofc#lukas matsson x oc#lukas matsson smut#lukas matsson fanfic#lukas matsson fic#lukas matsson imagine#snow’s fics#a body of impulses#smut
451 notes
·
View notes