#soon tycoon
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
I might’ve just bought roller coaster tycoon cause it was super cheep on steam…
#technically it was the deluxe version and the second game#so like…if y’all want nostalgia you can get both for like a little over $3#super cheep! and I’ll definitely be playing them soon my computer is just off atm lol#aceo rambles#steam#roller coaster tycoon
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Trying to force myself to make a Roblox game cause I really want to make a bug fables-based myth rpg with my friends and promptly opened the studio and made the ugliest looking tree ever. I am terrified but will not give in to defeat
#and dw im not gonna try and make the game anytime soon#im gonna try making shitty obbies and tycoons to learn the actual scripting language before trying anything close#roblox dev
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
I fear the furry in me LOVED going to the San Diego Zoo
#totally gonna create a few new fursonas soon#aggghhh the animals#furry#furry fandom#fursona#san diego zoo#zoo#also why does the san diego zoo literally look like zoo tycoon
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
it's so annoying how there's not much zoo tycoon 1 posts that show the zoo design on tumblr. gotta do everything myself
#i love randomly getting notifs on my detailed zoo design post 😭😭#i really loved that one but it's now deleted :(((#but also even if i love it#it keeps bugging me that i didnt even play w topography that much there#now im doing something reaaaaaal fun w the topography 😏#Hopefully i will finish it one day soon and post another detailed zoo design post 😏#🗒#zoo tycoon
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
yknow i will never get pregnant ever (probably wont ever get into a situation where thats a possibility in the first place) mainly bc im Going to get a hysterectomy within the next few years (probably next year). but also because i think i would get SO sick its not even funny. AND ALSO i already am partially incontinent (which is crazy for my age) and i dont want to find out what would happen if i pushed out a baby. i think it would be so much worse.
#yeah fun fact i leak pee <3 all day <3#yes im gonna see a doctor for it soon#just kind of not a priority#i just wear pads all the time now !#LMAOOOOO#sorry if thats tmi but like i dont really care if anyone knows that about me genuinely#we all piss. mine just decides to go idle tycoon piss mode#“go piss girl” i already am .... and have been ....
0 notes
Text
🚀 Big Week Ahead! 🚀
We’re gearing up to reveal the official name of #ProjectTycoon! Stay tuned for the big announcement—any guesses? 👀💡
1 note
·
View note
Text
Ever wanted to see a one minute clip of a baby bear sneezing in Zoo Tycoon?
No? Well too bad!
Dude what the hell am I even posting anymore? I’m just kinda concerned about the girl.
#zoo tycoon#She’s happy but I think her allergies are showing#I don’t think this is going to get popular anytime soon
0 notes
Text
In love with you - part 1



Pairing: Powder x fem!reader
Warnings: friends to lovers, SMUT, kissing, fluff
Synopsis: Powder had been your best friend for years, the two of you met when she was running from the cops when she and her brothers broke into and blew up an apartment in Piltover and you helped them escape. What you never imagined, is that the love of your life was always right there in front of you…
A/N: This is a fic about Powder from the alternate universe, it has nothing to do with Jinx.
🌟 English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any mistakes.
The scorching heat made your hair stick to the bare skin of your shoulders, you were sitting at a table in the corner of Vender's bar so engrossed in your book that you didn't notice your best friend looking at you from across the bar leaning against the counter. She did that a lot, watching you. You were beautiful, her best friend, the love of her life, if only you knew what you meant to her...
The strap of your blouse slipped off your shoulder, you lifted it back into place with your finger and tossed your hair to the side, leaving the soft skin of your neck exposed, the silver of your expensive chain glinting in the sunlight. Powder didn't miss a single detail, she never did.
The only time you looked up from your book was to look at the new waitress - Gert - who asked if you would like to order a drink or a juice. She was clearly trying to make conversation and when you smiled at Gert, Powder felt a pang in her heart, she should be used to everyone flirting with you, everyone wanting you. She had her heart broken so many times because of your boyfriends and girlfriends and she was the one who comforted you when they broke your heart.
When you kindly said that you didn't want anything at the moment, Gert winked at you saying that if you changed your mind, just call her. You smiled and followed her with your gaze, she went behind the counter and you finally saw your best friend leaning against it. She picked up her glass of juice and started walking to where you were sitting, you noticed Ekko - who was sitting on a bench on the other side - following her with his gaze, you lowered your head and smiled a little.
“Ekko is really into you”, you said as soon as Powder sat down next to you.
“Hm…”, she shrugged as she pulled her juice with a straw, “it seems like he's the only one who's not into you”, she said, pointing at Gert with her head. She thought you might get the hint when she said he was the only one, but if you got the hint, you didn't show it.
“Why don't you give him another chance? He's nice and he likes you, you never told me about that date with him, wasn't it nice?”, you asked looking at her.
“I... that was just a fling, Ekko is my friend, that's all... and... I'm kind of waiting for the right person”, she said a little embarrassed, not looking at you.
Powder had never had a long-term relationship with anyone, you knew she had been in relationships with girls and boys, but she never seemed to really be in love with anyone. Not that you could say you had ever really fallen in love with anyone, you had been in many relationships that never worked out for very long, but you were always dating someone, unlike Powder she didn't open up much to you about relationships and always changed the subject when you asked about her love life.
You shook your head as you laughed, “May I ask who this person is?” Powder looked into your eyes, but before she could say anything, Claggor and Mylo sat down with you, interrupting the moment. You had a fling with Claggor a while back, but he gave up on you after realizing his sister's feelings for you, even though she never admitted anything to him about you. Mylo always tried to date you, but he just wasn't your type.
“So… Y/n”, - Mylo said scratching the back of his neck, “are you going to come to the party on Saturday?”. Powder had told you about the party before, but you were the daughter of a tycoon and you had a high society party to attend - not that you liked it - and besides that you had academy work to finish. “I don’t know if…”, you started to say, but were interrupted by Claggor, “Oh come on? Don’t you think she should come Powder?”, he looked at her and then looked back at you. “I think she should come,” Gert said suddenly, winking at you as she walked past the table clearing away empty glasses. She left before anyone could say anything. Ignoring Gert, you looked at Powder, who was already looking at you and your eyes met, she was your best friend, but at that moment she seemed like something more. “Yes, she should come,” she said smiling, “admit it, we are much cooler than your rich friends.” You laughed, “I never denied that… okay, you win, I’ll come to the party…
This chapter was kind of an introduction, so it's short. Should I post part 2?? 👇🏻
#jinx x reader#powder arcane#powder x reader#arcane#jinx league of legends#jinx arcane#jinx#jinx x y/n#jinx x you#Lesbian
824 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wave 2 of Modern AU Genshin Headcanons - NSFW Ahead. Minors DNI.
Wave 2 will include all male characters with names starting with D-K. Please be patient, as all other characters including female and non-playable characters will be coming soon.
This is a modern/mafia AU list, and will include suggestive themes and explicit sexual acts, some now in more detail. All characters are over the age of 18, however not all headcanons will include NSFW themes.
Warnings: most characters are ooc, characters do not behave completely like they would in a canon-typical environment, mentions of drinking and smoking, mentions of blood, illegal activities mentioned and carried out, gang mentions, implied gang violence, marriage, yandere behavior, possessiveness, fake love, manipulation, implied emotional abuse, drugs mentioned, drugs used, addiction mentioned, rehab for said addiction, stalker behavior, kinich is a
fucking CREEP, that should be it for wave 2.
Other information: Most of these have a profession listed, if it says civilian for the S/O's profession, it is up to the decision of the reader.
This list of headcanons, including ones released after this could be a setup for future fics as well. Once the headcanons are all complete and up, I may begin accepting requests for this AU, just keep an
eye out!
Happy reading!
masterlist
Dainsleif:
Adventurous! Dainsleif + Civilian! S/O
Dain likes to travel around the world, seeming cool and collected; just a guy that likes a good view. Despite this, he carries a certain anxiety you can’t put your finger on
He met you in your home country (honestly this is up to you, I won’t be picky for this one) while he was visiting a shopping center, you dropped a drink and it got on his shoes though he didn’t seem to mind, he even bought you a new one
The two of you talked over coffee and your drink of choice from a nearby cafe and actually ended up clicking very well, this is where he learned you weren’t exactly fond of the life you had here
On a whim he asked you to join in his travels around the seven nations, and with feeling like there was nothing left to lose you joined him, first as a friend
Traveling around for several months in his van, sleeping under the stars in the Sumeru desert, taking a roadside break in Springs City in Natlan, road tripping from there all the way to Mondstadt, the more distance passed the closer you got to him, leading to a mutual confession and a relationship blossoming.
He’s a very respectful lover, making sure you’re comfortable wherever your travels take you and that you’re well fed and rested every day. (on another note Dain isn’t even my favorite character but he’s the one I would want to be with the most out of all the ones I’ve written)
He opens doors for you, weather it be the door to the passenger seat for you or to shops or businesses you happen to be going to
He’s definitely the type of guy to kiss your palms the most, he especially likes to do so when waking up. In the early mornings he’ll gently pull your hand to his face, kiss your palm, and then nuzzle his cheek into it.
He seems to be hiding some secrets however, and he avoids the Khaenri’ah-Snezhnaya border like the plague for some reason, and when you asked he avoided the question entirely and you decided not to push it. (I am fully aware Khaenri’ah is underneath Sumeru but for the AU’s sake it is located on the surface)
When it comes to intimacy he takes his sweet time, both for your first time and in general. Foreplay is a big part of sex for him, so he puts a lot of focus into it. He’s definitely more for his partner’s pleasure than his own, that’s for certain.
Diluc:
CEO/Tycoon! Diluc + Citizen! S/O
Dependant on his S/O when they come into his life, won’t admit it
Wants them to never leave
Wants to take care of them no matter what because they took care of him, whether they knew it or not. He’ll do subtle things to express his love to them, like bringing their coffee to them in the mornings just how they like it or completing tasks that they normally would throughout the day to give them more time to rest, even through his busy life
He vents by having sex, depending on the situation, rough or loving. He can go either way. (This is mostly because he doesn’t drink or smoke.)
Can read his S/O like a book. Knows if they’re hiding something or if they’re lying about how they’re feeling. Most of the time he doesn’t pry, but he’ll hold their hand or pull them close if he knows they’re feeling down.
Reassuring when needed, he’s not good with words but he’ll stand by your side through anything
Kind of stiff, still doesn’t really know how to love but is trying because he finally found someone to care for.
Despite this, he definitely wants to marry you at some point in his life. He couldn’t ask for anyone better.
Gaming:
Lion Dancer/Event Manager! Gaming + Cosplayer S/O
Met at a festival and instantly clicked, had their first date that same night participating in fun games and eating good food together.
The second night of that same event, you got to watch him do a lion dance. Safe to say, it was entrancing.
Gaming in this AU is a bit of a nerd, so he helps to give you ideas for cosplays and plays video games with you. You both also learned about each other’s interests to talk about them with each other
He’s very sweet and loving, absolutely adores doing anything with his S/O
Bakes with you and helps you cook
Buys you cosplay gear, whether to make outfits or premade pieces
When it comes to intimacy he is very vanilla, but he’s so loving that it makes up for it even if you’re into a bit more. He’ll try anything once if you like it, however.
Overall just a very good lover. Not into that underground crime stuff, so you’ll never have to worry. Additionally he’ll protect you if anything dangerous happens nearby, so there’s nothing to fear.
Gorou:
Sniper! Gangster! Gorou + Citizen! S/O
Second in command of the Orobashi Gang (ran by Kokomi)
Scared of relationships, scared to fall in love. He worries that he won’t be able to take care of his S/O because of his duties or that he would make them sad by not spending enough time with them.
Ended up becoming friends with benefits with someone (S/O) to relieve stress of being second in command, he accidentally fell in love. He’s a mess, mostly because he swore he’d never do that with the fear of tainting a lover’s life with his dirty work.
He realized he actually really liked this person, and feels like they are a piece of him that he was missing.
Feels empty without his S/O, but keeps fighting so he’ll be able to see them again.
Easily jealous once they actually get together, not because he wants to, just because of natural instinct to feel that way.
Would do anything for his S/O to make them feel loved and accepted just the way they are.
Yes, he lets you pet his ears and tail. He also appreciates when you comb his fur out, especially after coming back from a mission. He caved pretty early on about what he does for work, and since you didn’t mind he would come home a mess sometimes. He really loves when you pamper him, but he’ll never admit it. If you’re stressed or unwell however, he will clean himself up and take care of you.
Ifa:
Vet! Ifa + Animal caretaker! S/O
First meeting Ifa was an adventure. The lady you normally watched a dog for asked you to do only one task for her that day--take Sparky to the vet for his checkup, call her if anything was wrong (though Sparky is very healthy, so she’s not expecting that call) , and to bring him home afterward, where her son would take over sitting the dog. Simple enough right? Well everything went as wrong as it could--Sparky is usually contained so he wasn’t in the carrier, just on his leash but, little fucker got zoomies in the vet’s office. He knocked over Ifa, who was walking out of the back, sending Ifa falling face first over you. What an introduction.
Instead of moving, the two of you just stared at each other for a while. It was stupidly awkward, even more so when he piped up with a “Wow, you’re very attractive, bro.” in a whisper. Don’t worry, he’ll never live that down.
After getting up you finished the vet’s visit as intended, not before slipping him your number on a sheet of paper you got ahold of.
From there you went on a few dates and actually got to know each other. He was a very laid back guy, and it seems he just genuinely loved what he did. Over a few dinner dates and your mutual love for animals, the two of you made it official.
Ifa is a very chill yet subtly protective lover. He doesn’t like prying eyes on what is his, but he’d never really say that out loud.
He does enjoy buying you things and taking you out to eat or to look around shops you mentioned liking.
He found himself not being too fond of random strangers and how they’d look at you, or when they talked a bit too friendly, his obsession and jealousy leading him down a path nobody would expect.
It’s not like he would get caught anyway, what’s one person disappearing every once in a while? If in the name of love, it shouldn’t really matter if he was wrong or not.
When he fucks however, it is very clear how possessive he is. It’s like something takes over him, his eyes glaze with this darkness with his calloused hands gripping your hips like a vice. “You’re mine”s and “I love you”s are repeated over and over like a praise, but he hits all the right spots so it’s not bad at all.
Kaeya:
Womanizer! Kaeya + Unsuspecting S/O
Kaeya is somewhat of a “Man Whore,” we could say
Fuckboy
Basically immune to emotions, namely love
He doesn’t love S/O, but he’s still possessive
If he sees them with another, that person will somehow magically disappear!
Manipulative. Literally a force of nature he will make S/O believe they can’t live without him and that without his command they’d be nothing.
The way he fucks gets S/O addicted to him. Even if they hate him, surely this will keep them from leaving, right?
Diluc caught him killing someone, causing Diluc to leave and cut off all ties with him. Diluc did, however, pity S/O for being in Kaeya’s grasp.
Kazuha:
Drug addict! Stowaway! Kazuha + Citizen! S/O
I should mention for context here, Beidou and Ningguang are married and Kazuha’s adoptive parents and they all live in the Jade Chamber. Don't worry, they’ll still have their own headcanons for them, but this is what is at least canon in this AU. Kazuha has the most lore written for him in total so I’ll lore drop him in the next post I make.
S/O met Kazuha by chance on one of his usual “roaming around Liyue Port City and hoping for something interesting to happen” days.
S/O managed to recognize that he at least didn’t have Liyuan features-- they guessed he was Inazuman and he would shyly tell them they’re right.
We could say the rest is history, but their relationship going forward was insanely rocky.
S/O discovering Kazuha’s disturbing habits and concerning drug dealing friends that has led to them doing everything in their power to help him.
S/O is still his friend at this point, but through careful guidance in assisting him in recovering from his habits (while trying not to kill his reliant body), they did eventually end up in a relationship somehow.
This was the result of, well, S/O and Kazuha ‘accidentally’ having sex in his lofty bedroom in the Jade Chamber…
Besides that, Kazuha is a very attentive lover. He started off knowing his S/O with a lot of flaws in himself and an almost complete loss of faith so he wants to try hard and do his best to make sure they’re feeling their best.
He will also handle them very gently, like a leaf floating atop water.
Kaveh:
Architect! Boss! Kaveh + Spouse S/O
Kaveh is the boss for all ‘underground’ activities in Sumeru City
He may look like a ray of sunshine and speak sweetly, but he’s a cold and harsh leader of all crime taking place in Sumeru.
That shield, however, goes down when it comes to his S/O.
You’re the most precious thing to him, so he’ll try his hardest to make sure his work doesn’t affect your life as much as possible.
He’s so loving. He’s so fucking loving and doting. When it’s not strictly business, he’ll find ANY opportunity to introduce you into the conversation.
If you’re an artist for example, he’ll take pictures of everything you create just to show it off. “Look at what my spouse finished up recently! Doesn’t it look amazing, they’re so talented!”
Takes you out to fancy dinners and gives you gifts that he knows you’ll enjoy. He’s read up on all your hobbies and knows the things you like, so he gets you things related to those hobbies or things that he knows you will use every day.
With intimacy, he’s very attentive to your needs. He’s 100% a service dom in this AU. He does things the way that you like it; you set the pace, you control where his hands go, and he listens to every command. There are times where he will have his way, and you know him and his job well enough to mentally agree with yourself that it’s best not to protest in those times. He will apologize profusely after.
He’s very attentive and very loving, so much that sometimes you even manage to forget how cruel and harsh of a leader that he is to the underground. If he were honest with himself, he’d rather it be that way. He never wants you to have to see his dark side, but he wanted you to be aware of it since he was making such a dedication as marriage.
He’s so grateful to have you. He’s so happy you’re in his life, even through all of the crimes he committed and the blood you know is on his hands, he’s so glad you stuck around. He’s sure to let you know that every day, how truly dear you are to him.
Kinich:
Vigilante! Kinich + Night Owl! S/O
Kinich is only active at night, not for pleasure or the true nightlife, but for the thrill of the hunt. He hunts down criminal activity happening throughout The Canopies and the Natlan capital. Now he’s not supposed to be doing this, but being one of the only people alive with a vision, he figured he should do something to stop unruly activities throughout his homeland. (More on visions existing later, they are extremely rare in this AU and some characters I’ve already gone over have them but haven’t been relevant to what they do. I’ll add to this with actual canon lore drops for this AU.)
Swinging from rooftop to rooftop, surveying things below, that’s his typical night. While on your typical night, you were heading to a gas station that’s less than a block from your apartment to grab a snack and a drink to calm your nerves. His eyes landed on you, and at first he thought nothing of it; just someone going to a gas station. Okay, whatever.
Somehow he found himself going to that exact spot every night however, and each night he lucked out seeing you go to the gas station at your usual time. He thought it was silly at first, that it was trivial. But the more he watched, the more infatuated he would get.
One night this surveyance did pay off, however. While he was watching you with a content smile, going about your normal routine, two men dressed in dark clothing stepped out of the alleyway between your apartment building and the gas station you were headed to. Clearly you didn’t notice them as they were behind you, but as soon as they ran towards you to pounce, they found themselves with a swift defeat facing them. You didn’t even notice they were there until one of them grunted in pain and the other started cursing. You turned around and saw your silent protector had scared off the men, yet still looked menacing, eyes and vision glowing with a bright green.
After that he would go back to his routine, watching, waiting. You didn’t get attacked again. After a few weeks he decided to drop down and ask for your name, maybe even get a date. He told you it was just a coincidence he was there again, and that the first time was luck.
He always had to play clueless and ask what your favourite snack and drink are, as if he didn’t already know. He had to pretend like he didn’t know anything about you, like how some nights you would dance while walking to the gas station, or others you would talk to yourself on the way there.
Ever observant, even after you had become an item with him he continued to watch, sometimes even from a distance. He learned more and more about you, things that you never told him before he would know, things you had thought were private suddenly not. Did you know he knows how you touch yourself? He thinks you sound pretty saying his name. He knows what you eat from your fridge when you have night cravings, he doesn’t even have to be in your house to know that. He’ll just stand on the balcony, look inside. It’s hard to see him from the dark of the night.
If you do pick up on his behaviors, he'll just fuck you dumb on the spot and make you forget. Don't worry about it, he's just making sure you're doing well. He'll do anything to make sure you think highly of him.
Treats you like a princess when he’s around however. He’s an absolute fucking creep until you’re looking at him. All of that melts away and he plays dumb, just like always.
divider by reluctant-mandalore. writing is all by me. do not copy/translate/use. reblogs appreciated.
#genshin impact x reader#gensin impact#genshin au#genshin x you#genshin x reader#genshin impact#genshin dainsleif#dainsleif x reader#diluc x reader#diluc ragnivindr x reader#diluc smut#genshin smut#dainslief smut#gaming x reader#gorou x reader#ifa genshin#ifa x reader#ifa smut#gaming genshin#kaeya x reader#kaeya smut#kaeya genshin#kazuha x reader#kaedehara kazuha x reader#kazuha smut#kaveh x reader#kaveh genshin#kaveh smut#kinich x reader#kinich genshin
234 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Feline Connection Part 7
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Summary: Natasha has to face the harsh reality that she can’t help everyone.
Masterlist Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10
Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, light fluff
Words: 3790
“Whitney Frost, daughter of Byron Frost—a typical Wall Street tycoon,” Tony’s voice echoes through the phone as he reads out the details FRIDAY managed to dig up.
On Natasha’s screen, she can see multiple files and articles pulled up on Tony’s monitors, the holographic images casting a blue glow on his face as he continues.
“There are plenty of articles about her earlier years. Standard socialite magazine garbage—life of a spoiled rich kid, extravagant parties, lavish vacations. You get the idea.”
Natasha lets out a dry scoff at the irony, her lips curling slightly.
“Coming from the playboy billionaire who once blew up half of his mansion?”
Tony gasps theatrically, placing a hand over his chest in a wounded gesture.
“Watch it, Romanoff. I’m helping you here.”
Rolling her eyes, Natasha nods. “My bad. Please, continue.”
Tony huffs, turning his attention back to his screens.
“After her father’s death, she goes dark for a couple of years. No public appearances, no sightings—nothing. Coincidentally, around the same time, reports start cropping up about a new leader rising within one of the East Coast’s major crime families. Descriptions of the leader consistently include one distinct detail: a golden mask, giving them the title–”
“Madame Masque,” Natasha finishes for him, her tone flat.
“Bingo,” Tony confirms. “Over the years, she’s pulled off some pretty big moves. Arms deals, arson, major heists—she’s dangerous, Nat.”
There’s a shuffle of papers in the background, and Peter’s voice chimes in.
“I don’t get it, Mr. Stark. If she was already rich, why turn to crime?”
Natasha doesn’t hesitate to answer.
“It’s not always about money,” she says. “Sometimes it’s just about power and control.”
A brief silence follows, the weight of her words sinking in.
Tony’s expression darkens slightly, and even Peter doesn’t offer a rebuttal. They all know Natasha is right.
People like Whitney thrive on domination, bending others to their will.
Natasha’s frown deepens, her thoughts drifting back to the night before—the memory of you leaving with Whitney still fresh and raw. She exhales slowly, the sting of hurt in her chest flaring again, though she pushes it down.
Suddenly, Tony’s voice cuts through the quiet.
“Okay, I can’t ignore this anymore. What are you doing?”
Natasha’s brows knit in confusion as she glances at the screen. “What do you mean?”
Tony leans closer to the camera, pointing a finger at her with exaggerated disbelief.
“Why are you bottle-feeding that cat like it’s a baby?”
Natasha pulls Widow closer, cradling the tiny feline protectively against her chest. In her free hand, she holds a small baby bottle filled with water, offering it near the cat’s mouth.
“She still won’t eat complete meals,” Natasha explains defensively. “At least this way, she’s staying hydrated.”
Widow lets out a faint, sad meow, turning away from the bottle and burrowing deeper into Natasha’s arm.
Natasha sighs softly, her expression tinged with disappointment as she looks down at the cat.
Peter’s voice pipes up from off-screen.
“Miss Romanoff, I could go pick up some different kinds of cat food if you’d like?”
Before Natasha can respond, Tony waves him off.
“Great idea, kid. Take my card and have at it.”
“Awesome,” Peter replies, his excitement evident as he disappears from view.
As soon as Peter is gone, Natasha raises an eyebrow at Tony.
“Was that really a good idea?”
Tony shrugs, leaning back in his chair. “Eh, it’ll be fine.”
“So, what is it?” Natasha asks knowingly. She can tell Tony got rid of Peter so that he would not hear whatever it is Tony was holding back.
“Some tough love,” he says bluntly, his relaxed demeanor shifting into something more serious. He leans forward, fixing her with a pointed look. “Look, Nat, if your friend is running with people like Whitney Frost, you might need to face the facts.”
“Which are?” Natasha’s tone grows colder, her jaw tightening.
“She’s a criminal,” Tony states flatly, the words landing like a stone.
Natasha’s frown deepens, the label grating against her as she reflexively clutches Widow a little tighter. “And?”
Tony sighs, shaking his head as if she’s missing the obvious.
“You need to start treating her like one.”
Natasha’s eyes narrow.
“Did you forget I used to be an assassin?” she counters, her voice tinged with sarcasm.
“And now you’re an Avenger,” Tony fires back without missing a beat. “Not everyone’s like you, Nat. Not everyone wants to change.”
The silence stretches between them, tension simmering as Natasha processes his words.
Seeing her still hesitant to accept the fact, he adds softly, “You can’t help someone who doesn’t even want it.”
Natasha frowns, her eyes drifting down to the little cat in her arms. She strokes her fur delicately, and Widow returns a faint purr in response, though she still refuses to move much more than that.
“Send me everything you have on Whitney and Madame Masque,” Natasha says, her determination resolving.
She’s not going to give up on you so easily.
Tony studies her for a moment, his expression knowing before he sighs and leans back in his chair.
“Already done.”
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
A deep sigh escapes Natasha as she rubs her tired eyes, trying to dispel the exhaustion. The hours have stretched into the late night, a glance at the window and then at the clock on her tablet confirming just how much time has passed.
Beside her on the couch, Widow is curled into a small ball, her tiny body seeming to shrink further with every passing moment.
The meal Natasha had prepared for her earlier sits barely touched—a few nibbles at best.
Though, in her tired mind, Natasha can’t help but let a stray thought creep in: maybe her cooking is bad enough to deter a cat.
The self-deprecating humor makes her sigh again, a sure sign of just how drained she feels.
Setting the tablet on the table, Natasha leans back against the armrest of the couch, her head tilting to rest against the cushion. She raises an arm to cover her eyes, allowing herself just a brief reprieve, not planning to sleep but needing the darkness to ease the strain from hours of research.
For a while, the silence wraps around her like a blanket.
Natasha focuses on her breathing, the steady rise and fall helping her ground herself.
Eventually, she debates whether she has it in her to dive back into her work for the night when a sudden movement shifts at her side.
Tiny paws pad up her torso, and then a soft weight settles against her stomach.
A familiar, distinct meow breaks the quiet—a chirping, happy sound Natasha hasn’t heard from Widow in days.
She freezes, her body going rigid as suspicion blooms in her chest. Breathing slowly, Natasha tries to maintain her sleeping position so as not to give herself away.
Widow’s sudden shift in mood—it could only mean one thing.
“I know you’re awake,” your voice cuts through the stillness, warm and teasing from just above her.
Realizing she’s caught, Natasha exhales softly with a mix of both relief at your presence but also mild frustration at the fact that you were able to sneak up on her again.
She removes her arm from her eyes, blinking up to meet your gaze.
You’re leaning casually against the back of the couch, your head tilted and resting atop the cushion, a small smirk on your lips.
“It’s way too early for you to have fallen asleep,” you tease lightly, your voice carrying that familiar playful lilt.
Your attention shifts to Widow, who’s now eagerly leaning against the cushion to lick at your outstretched hand.
“Isn’t that right, Widow?” you coo, your tone softening as you address the little cat.
Widow chirps again, louder this time, in agreement and nuzzles against your hand with obvious affection.
Natasha can’t help but scoff lightly, shaking her head at the way the two of you seem to operate as a perfect team.
Carefully, she sits up, trying not to disturb Widow perched atop her.
However, the movement brings her face unintentionally close to yours. She stills as she realizes the proximity, her lips parting slightly as the quip she intended to deliver gets caught in her throat.
Instead, all that escapes is a soft exhale.
Your smirk falters, replaced by a small, almost sad smile. Your eyes search hers, lingering as if you can see something more beyond her carefully maintained exterior.
The intensity of the moment steals Natasha’s breath, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you.
Breaking the tension, you lift a hand into view, holding up a bag of takeout containers.
“I brought dinner,” you say softly, the warmth in your tone cutting through the charged silence.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
Natasha sits cross-legged on the couch, a takeout box resting limply on her lap as her attention drifts away from the half-eaten meal inside.
Instead, her gaze falls on the two of you.
You’re seated on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, also cross-legged, with Widow nestled comfortably in your lap.
The little cat looks more content than she has in days, her tiny paws resting on the edge of the table as she eagerly eats the torn-up pieces of meat you prepared for her.
A wave of relief washes over Natasha at the sight of Widow eating normally again, her movements lively and natural. It eases the knot of worry that’s been sitting in her chest, but as always, her focus inevitably drifts to you.
It’s a pull she can’t resist, her gaze lingering on the subtle details in your expression, the quiet ease with which you handle the moment.
Natasha absently stirs the noodles in her box, her mind turning over the question she’s been holding back since you arrived. It gnaws at her, but finding the right way to ask feels like navigating a minefield.
“How…” she begins, her voice hesitant, but the words falter.
Natasha bites her lip, uncertain whether she has the right to pry into your life any deeper.
You glance up at her, catching on to the unfinished question. Setting your takeout container on the table, you tilt your head slightly, offering her an easy opening.
“How am I here?” you ask knowingly, your voice gentle.
Wordlessly, Natasha nods, grateful but wary of the answer.
“You didn’t look at the USB?” you ask, a touch of curiosity in your tone.
Natasha shakes her head.
“I was busy worrying about more pressing matters,” she says, her eyes flicking meaningfully to Widow, who’s still munching happily in your lap. “And anyway, it didn’t seem like she wanted me to have it in the first place.”
You huff lightly at her words, and with an amused shake of your head, you turn Widow to face you, your fingers gently scratching behind her ears.
“You were supposed to give it to her,” you chide playfully.
Widow lets out a small, sassy meow, as if to argue her point, and then wiggles free from your grasp.
Natasha watches with mild curiosity as the little cat pads over to the side table, where the USB has sat untouched for days. Widow grabs the small device in her mouth and trots back toward Natasha.
Stopping at her side, Widow drops the USB onto Natasha’s lap with a decisive plop before looking up at her with a smug little chirp, her tail swishing behind her.
Natasha raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching with the faintest hint of a smile as she picks up the USB.
“Thank you,” she remarks dryly, her tone soft but teasing.
Widow lets out a pleased meow, circling once before hopping back into your lap, her little body nestling comfortably against you.
Natasha’s gaze shifts to the USB, her fingers brushing over its surface thoughtfully, before lifting her eyes to meet yours.
“So,” she says, her tone calm but tinged with curiosity, “what exactly am I going to find on here?”
You glance down at Widow, stroking her head absently as you answer, your voice steady but carrying an undertone of something more.
“Whitney had a scheduled meeting out of state with some buyers tonight.”
At the mention of the other woman, Natasha narrows her eyes slightly, reading between the lines.
“So this is…?”
“Everything you need to finish your original mission,” you reply evenly, meeting her gaze with a serious expression. “The buyers’ identities, their locations, the details of each weapons deal. Enough to track them down and stop the weapons from being used in the wrong hands.”
Natasha studies you closely, her sharp instinct catching on to the underlying reason for your sudden assistance in her original mission.
“To shift my attention from Whitney.”
Your silence at her pointed remark is telling.
Natasha’s lips press into a thin line, the unspoken truth hanging between you. She tilts her head, her voice firmer now.
“Why are you protecting her?”
You flinch slightly at the accusation, your hand pausing mid-stroke on Widow’s fur. After a moment, you let out a sigh, your gaze drifting downward.
“You know, it wasn’t always like this between us,” you say quietly.
Natasha stays silent, letting you continue.
“Her dad—her real dad—was the original leader of the organization,” you explain, your voice tinged with something softer, almost nostalgic. “I met her when she was training to take over his position. Or, rather, she found me. I was just a simple thief back then. But not to her.”
You pause, your hand resuming its slow strokes over Widow’s fur as you collect your thoughts.
“She made me an offer—something I never expected. Another opportunity for my life. To join her. She saw something in me. Something…more.”
The words hang in the air, and Natasha feels a pang of understanding, recalling her own experience from the past.
“It felt good,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Having someone look at you like that, like you’re worth something. Like you could be more than you ever thought of yourself.”
You let out a soft, bitter chuckle.
“She’s always been good at that. Making you feel special. Like you’re the only one who matters.”
Natasha’s gaze softens slightly, her arms folding across her chest as she listens. She doesn’t interrupt, sensing the weight behind your words.
“No matter what she did—how far she went—I always found a way to forgive her,” you continue, your tone darkening. “Until I couldn’t anymore.”
There’s a long pause, the quiet broken only by the faint sounds of Widow’s contented purring. Finally, you lift your gaze to Natasha’s, the vulnerability in your eyes stark, unguarded, and disarming.
“And then I met you,” you say softly, your voice carrying a bittersweet edge. “And for a while, I felt that same thing again. That feeling from the beginning—when it was just lighthearted, fun, and flirty, intoxicating even.”
Natasha’s breath catches, her chest tightening at the quiet admission. The honesty in your words cuts through the usual banter and teasing, leaving her unsure how to respond.
“But I already know how this ends,” you add, your voice softer now, tinged with resignation. “I’ve seen it before. And I can’t…” You trail off, shaking your head slightly, the words left unfinished.
Natasha watches you closely, her sharp gaze softening despite the weight of your rejection. She leans forward, her voice low but steady in understanding.
“It’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.”
Her tone shifts, gaining a quiet intensity and insistence.
“But you don’t need to stay with her either. We can figure out a way to disengage the bomb without you returning to her. A way to keep you both safe.”
Your gaze lowers, regret flickering in your expression. When you finally speak, your voice is heavy with sorrow.
“I have to go back.”
Natasha’s lips part in protest, her brows knitting together in frustration, but before she can speak, you cut her off, your tone firmer now.
“Not because of the bomb,” you clarify. “But because of what I did to her.”
You rise slowly, retrieving the tablet from the table, its screen still displaying the research Tony sent on Whitney. Sensing the shift, Widow hops into Natasha’s lap, purring softly as Natasha strokes her fur, grounding herself.
Sitting down beside her, you scroll through the files until you find what you’re looking for. Wordlessly, you turn the screen toward her.
Natasha scans the report, her frown deepening with each line.
It details a failed raid on a Stark Industries facility, ending in a catastrophic explosion. Operatives were killed or gravely injured. Their leader, however, was not discovered among those found.
“I abandoned her that night,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “None of that would have happened if I had stayed.”
“You don’t know that,” Natasha counters firmly, her gaze snapping to yours, her hand reaching out instinctively to rest atop yours.
A faint, sad smile tugs at your lips at her touch, and you shake your head slightly.
“I appreciate the thought,” you reply, your voice tinged with bittersweet humor, “but we both know that’s not true—especially considering how I’ve managed to sneak past Stark’s defenses twice now without any problems.”
The smirk you add at the end is small, almost fleeting, but it carries a sting of truth that Natasha can’t ignore.
You’re exceptionally skilled. She can’t deny that.
Your fingers brush hers lightly, tracing the bandages covering her knuckles. A contemplative sadness crosses your face.
Then slowly, you lift her hand to your lips, pressing a soft, almost apologetic kiss against her skin before lowering it back onto Widow’s fur.
“I’m not innocent here, Natasha,” you continue resolutely, your voice low, as if the words are for you as much as for her. “I never was.”
Natasha’s jaw tightens at your words, but she doesn’t interrupt as you continue.
“I owe her a lot,” you admit, your voice heavy with the weight of your past. “She gave me a chance when no one else did. She saw something in me that I couldn’t. And yet…” Your voice falters slightly, but you press on.
“I still betrayed her in the end.”
Your gaze shifts to Natasha, your eyes meeting hers with a depth of emotion that makes her chest ache.
“You deserve more than to wait for me to eventually do the same to you,” you say softly. “More than I already have.”
Natasha’s chest tightens, the quiet ache spreading as she watches you, her gaze taking in every flicker of pain and regret etched across your features.
But this time, it’s not sadness that rises within her—it’s anger. Not at you, but at everything else.
At Whitney, for manipulating you. At the circumstances that have pushed you to this breaking point. And most of all, at the invisible chains of guilt that hold you hostage, preventing you from seeing a way out.
Her hands twitch, the urge to reach for you almost overwhelming. She wants to close the distance between you, to grasp your shoulders and shake you free from the weight of your past, to tell you that this isn’t your only option.
But she hesitates, her fingers curling into fists as she forces herself to stop.
Forcing you to accept her help, no matter how badly she wants to, would make her no different from Whitney. It would just be another form of control, another pressure you don’t deserve.
And Natasha refuses to become that.
Instead, after a long pause, she speaks with quiet determination.
“What will happen to Widow?”
You look down at the small cat, curled up peacefully in Natasha’s lap, and sigh.
“I can’t bring her back with me,” you admit, your voice thick with regret. “But I’ll stay with her as long as I can tonight. Make sure she’s okay, and I’ll explain it to her—let her think it’s like last time, when she stayed with you while I was away.”
You glance at Natasha, searching for her response.
“If…you’re still willing to take care of her?”
Natasha straightens slightly, her expression softening as a small smirk forms on her lips.
“I promised, didn’t I?”
Your lips twitch into a faint smile at her answer, gratitude flickering in your eyes.
But Natasha isn’t done. She leans forward, her tone resolute as her gaze locks onto yours.
“You don’t have to keep punishing yourself,” she says, her words deliberate and carefully chosen. “If you feel guilty about what you’ve done, you can always make it right for yourself. You still have that choice.”
Her words hang in the air, heavy with meaning, an unspoken plea woven into her steady tone.
Natasha’s expression holds no judgment, only quiet insistence and something deeper—hope.
The silence that follows feels fragile, as if it could shatter at the wrong move.
Widow shifts slightly in her lap, her tiny body curling closer as her soft purring fills the space between you.
It’s a faint sound, but comforting nonetheless, grounding you in a moment that feels far too heavy for words.
For a fleeting second, Natasha sees something in your eyes—an almost imperceptible flicker, as if her words might be reaching you.
But then your gaze drops, breaking the connection, and the moment slips away.
Without a word, you gently lift Widow from her lap, cradling her with the same care Natasha has come to associate with you, and rise to your feet.
Natasha sits up a little straighter, her sharp eyes following your movements as you step toward the hallway, your figure outlined by the dim glow of the room.
“Try to get some rest, Miss Black Widow,” you say softly, your tone steady but carrying a subtle finality that roots her in place. You pause just before disappearing from sight, your head turning slightly as if debating whether to say more.
“You, out of everyone, deserve it.”
The words linger in the air long after you’ve gone into your bedroom, wrapping around Natasha like a quiet echo.
She stays where she is, her fingers drifting absentmindedly over the fabric of the couch where you’d been sitting just moments ago, as if tracing the memory of you.
The warmth of your presence is gone, replaced by an emptiness that spreads through the room, making it feel colder, quieter.
Natasha exhales slowly, leaning back against the couch and staring at the space where you had disappeared from her view.
She knows you meant those words for her, but the ache in her chest tells her they’re something you’ve denied yourself for far too long.
“So do you,” she whispers into the empty room, her voice barely audible but filled with a longing that she knows you’ll never let yourself hear.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10
a/n: Fair warning, I believe there’s only a couple parts left in this series. But don’t quote me on this cause we all know I’ve never been good at predicting the number of chapters left. Again thanks for reading!
If you asked to be tagged and I missed it or if the tag did not work for you, please let me know.
Taglist : @cd-4848, @carifletchersgirl, @skittlebum, @queen-of-chaotic-surprises, @ima-gi--na-tion, @rainix13, @gay4hotmilfs, @imaginexred, @caramelcat123, @2silverchain, @nowthisisliving27, @waltermis, @scarlettbitchx, @self-indulgent-writer, @ashadash0904, @alowint, @littlyamadeus, @so-to-aqui-pelas-fic, @imthenatynat, @transparentflapfarmsludge, @natashasilverfox, @mousetheorist, @btay3115, @samfunko, @wandaromamoff69, @lost-in-the-ice, @ahsatanizgay, @stonemags, @karsonromanoff, @wandanatlov3r, @l1kepeps1cvla, @esposadejoyhuerta, @fxckmiup, @panickedbabygay, @esposadejoyhuerta, @azaleavolkova, @gay4wandanat, @escapereality4music, @caspianalexander007, @henkermen, @xxnaiaxx, @alyssa-bessse, @alianovnasposts
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#natasha romanoff fanfic#natasha romanoff x you#black widow x reader#natasha x reader#natasha romanov x reader#natasha romanoff
473 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
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Keys Of Heaven [Chapter 4: The Giver Of Life]

Series summary: Three years ago, Father Aemond Targaryen performed a miracle. Now he is a cardinal, a media sensation, and a frontrunner to be elected pope. You are a nun who has been brought to Vatican City to assist with the papal conclave. But when your paths cross by happenstance, you must both reckon with your decision to join the Catholic Church…and what you want from the future.
Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), references to abuse and violence, volcanoes, bodily injury, death, peril, scheming, pining, some drugs/alcohol/smoking, Catholic trivia you never asked to learn, kangaroos!
Word count: 6.6k
🦘 A very special thanks to my Aussie slang consultant @bearwithegg and also her mum (any mistakes are mine) 🦘
💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜
Tagging: @mrs-starkgaryen @chattylurker @lauraneedstochill @ecstaticactus @neithriddle, more in comments! 🥰
🗝️ Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🗝️
Boats speed past him as he approaches Nea Kameni, fishing vessels, sailboats, small yachts weighed down with tourists and celebrities and business tycoons, and even if they were to turn back towards the erupting volcano—which none of them are—they wouldn’t be able to carry all the people stranded there to safety without going under themselves. This is why when Aemond commandeered a boat from the Old Port of Fira, he chose the largest one, a Grand Banks trawler that can withstand the burden of fifty desperate souls clawing their way abroad. The owner, a man in a suit who looks like he could afford the $2,000,000 price tag, had just been coming down from the cockpit and immediately handed over the keys when Aemond demanded them. Who could mistrust a priest?
“What will you do, Father?” the man had asked in a thick Greek accent, and then, when he saw Aemond’s pale blue eyes flick to the rupturing volcano: “No, you can’t, it’s suicide.”
But it’s not: it’s a resurrection, a chance to be born again. Aemond’s cassock is a humble and undistinguished black, the color of mourning, the death of his old life, the promise of something brand new. Why should people worship Mother Teresa or Joan of Arc or Thomas Aquinas and not him? It is not talent that he lacks. It is only their attention; it is only a miracle.
Now asteroids of pumice and scoria and basalt and obsidian are raining down into the waves thrashing around him, sea spray swashing up over the deck, and the sky is dark with ash and noxious lung-searing fumes, afternoon turned to nightfall. Red veins of lava are snaking down Nea Kameni, and the tourists trapped there are like specks of ants as they flee across the island, their own boat buried in a landslide and useless. And it is not just thankless obscurity that Aemond is leaving behind. It is the person he was when he left Nisyros as a teenager, escaping things he does not think about if he can help it, and most of the time he succeeds.
The ocean is sloshing, swirling, steaming where lava spills into the waves and makes them boil, and to leap into the currents would be certain death. He knows he won’t have long once he docks; even in the shelter of the tiny crescent-moon harbor, the boat will soon be ripped from its moorings by the fury of the sea, and then he will be trapped too and perish in the cinders and the heat and the suffocating toxins that have replaced the oxygen in the air. So he climbs over the deck railing and ropes the vessel to one of the piers that is still standing, and by the time he turns to wave to the castaways they have spotted him and are flocking to his boat in the same way thousands of believers once received the loaves and fishes from Christ.
“Father! Father!” they are screaming in the apocalyptic gloom, the earth quaking and the air like acid, and as they sprint down the embankment he points to warn them: a lava flow that is pouring from the exploded crater, a red-glowing river that will consume them. The tourists look back and see the molten cascade and shriek hysterically, pleading, praying, knowing they cannot outrun it, feeling the lethal heat of it already, blisters bubbling up on their exposed skin.
And then—as Aemond’s hands are still raised in warning, as the tourists have their back to the lava flow as they race for the boat—a new fissure opens up in the earth and Aemond watches as the lava floods down into it, and the besieged visitors to the island are spared. Then they are swarming the boat and Aemond is helping them aboard—Thank you Father, bless you Father—and already he can hear them repeating a lie he does not correct: Did you see that he stopped the lava? It was there and then it was gone, a godsend, a miracle.
It’s almost too dark to see, but Aemond steers the boat out of the harbor and begins crossing the narrow strait of the Mediterranean Sea back to Fira on Santorini. As his passengers cling to each other and meteors of volcanic rock pummel the vessel and splash into the waves, he reaches into one of the pockets of his black cassock—one day red, one day white, he cannot stop himself from thinking—and finds there the rosary that a girl once gave him on a beach in Sydney, Australia. He thinks of her sometimes, but not in a way he could explain to anyone else. She is a ghost, a whisper, far more than a friend, far less than a lover, and yet a ricochet that he hears again and again in moments when he thinks he has forgotten her.
What if I never met her on that beach? What if we had never left?
There is a blinding pain and then the impact of his body hitting the deck and then nothing, and later Aemond will learn that a piece of pumice struck his left eye and fractured his skull. Blood flashes red across the white paint, hemorrhaging like the poisons from the earth. His ash-soiled collar turns crimson and sopping. As the boat is tossed by rough waves and the sky grows ever-darker, the afternoon sun eclipsed, Aemond’s devotees staunch the bleeding and keep him safely aboard, and one of them takes the helm and manages to guide the vessel safely back to Santorini.
And when Aemond wakes up three days later—missing an eye, gaining immortality—the first thing he does is fumble for the remote so he can turn on the television and see witnesses acclaiming his miracle on Alpha TV: Father Targaryen saved us, Father Targaryen made me believe again.
~~~~~~~~~~
“What’s going on between you and the nun?” Lucky asks.
He and Aemond are standing beside the koi pond in the Vatican Gardens. It’s early, and the older cardinals are still scraping their arthritic bones together as they crawl out of their beds. The December morning is grey and dull like iron. Near the bottom of the pond, comets of gold and white and red and black scales travel unhurriedly through rippling water like the darkness of the night sky.
Aemond, preoccupied, puffs on a Karelia cigarette. “I told you. We met when we were children.”
Lucky lights a cigar and takes an impatient drag. That’s not what he meant, and they both know it. “Who is she to you now?”
“Nothing. We’re friends.”
“Not a good enough answer.” Lucky flicks ashes onto the sand-colored tuff pebbles, damp with daybreak mist. “Auclair is running around saying you have an improper attachment to her. Kazi told me there was candle wax all over her face. How did that get there, I wonder? Par hasard?”
Aemond hesitates. His cigarette smolders between two fingers of his right hand, a tiny pinpoint of pulsing red light. “I was consoling her. Auclair...in the chapel, she accidentally dropped a candle on his cassock, and he grabbed her arm.”
Lucky’s brow furrows, incredulous. “He struck her?”
“He startled her.”
Lucky doesn’t understand. “And this compelled you to...lose your composure entirely, risk everything we’ve worked for? Auclair startling a nun?”
Aemond shrugs, peering into the koi pond. “It’s difficult to explain.”
“Aemo, are you serious about this?” About being the next pope.
“Yes,” Aemond replies immediately.
“Because...you know...it would not be the worst thing in the world if Jake got it. Or another moderate, an obscure consensus candidate we could dig up, some old unassuming Italian, the conclave is full of them. And if we pivot now, we might be able to box out Jahoda, even without you.”
“But that’s not what you want.”
Lucky smiles and opens his hands. “I am of the conviction that your gifts are too extraordinary to waste. I think you’re the best of us.”
Aemond averts his gaze as he takes a drag on his cigarette. “I’m not without flaws.”
“Oh, you have them, I’m sure. Pride, wrath, envy, lust.”
“A multitude of earthly motivations.”
Lucky chuckles, a gruff baritone rumble. “And who among us is selfless? Kazi joined the Church because in Poland in 1985, his job options were soldier, coal miner, or priest, and priest was the clear winner. Cam wanted his parents to be proud of him, I wanted a better life in Haiti. And Lando…well…I’m not sure, perhaps that was genuine.” Lucky exhales a plume of smoke and looks at Aemond. “I won’t pretend to know your ignoble reasons for joining the Church, but I’m certain you had them. Mortals don’t often do things out of pure altruism, we are imperfect by design. But that doesn’t mean we can’t still try to make the world better.”
“And you believe my elevation will facilitate that.”
“I do,” Lucky says honestly, then his expression turns fierce. “But you must either commit or get out of the way. You cannot sabotage this conclave and give the Chair of Saint Peter to someone like Jahoda, and you cannot be the pope if you intend to continue indulging your temptations. It is not just a sin, it is murder. When you hurt the Church, you are hurting everyone who might have been saved by it.”
Aemond nods, but he is still distracted. He finishes his cigarette and tosses the end of it into a row of laurel hedges slick with dew. Then he gazes across the gardens at the stone statue of Saint Agatha, eternally young, sinless, vulnerable. He says softly: “I just never thought I’d see her again. I couldn’t remember her name or her hometown, but I knew she wasn’t from Sydney, so how would I ever find her? Then to cross paths with her here...it’s an almost impossible coincidence. And to let her go for the second time seems so wrong. Painful. Intolerable.”
“Do you think I don’t know what it feels like to care for a woman? To love one, even?”
Aemond is stunned; he’s never heard this before. He waits for Lucky to continue like a priest listens silently in the confessional booth.
“I had a girlfriend when I was young,” Lucky says after a while. He kicks away some of the tuff pebbles, drops the end of his cigar in the trough, buries it in the shards of volcanic rock. “And she got pregnant. I couldn’t marry her, I was already planning to join the Church. But I promised that I would provide for her and the baby to the best of my ability. It would have been like Auclair’s situation, you know? Rumors, sure, but that’s all. Visits a few times a week. A child with my face. She took it better than I thought she would, honestly. She understood why I wanted to be a priest, and she knew we would all benefit from my position. She was pragmatic, even at eighteen.”
He has a child? Aemond thinks, astonished. He understands what that’s like?
But no: It would have been like Auclair’s situation, Lucky said. Not it is, not it was.
“She was living with her parents because she couldn’t live with me,” Lucky continues. “And one night when no one else was home, men broke in to rob the house thinking it was empty. They found her, and they killed her, slit her throat down to the vertebrae of her spine. There was no reason for it. She wasn’t trying to stop them or anything. She was hiding in a closet, six months pregnant, just waiting for them to leave. And if she and I had been living together in our own home, she wouldn’t have been there when those men shattered the window and climbed inside. I think about that all the time. It never goes away. Forty years later, and I’m still picking up the phone every day, hearing her father’s voice tell me what happened over and over again.”
The burning in Aemond’s throat makes him think of embers, lava, the gridiron Saint Lawrence was roasted alive on. He lays a gentle palm on his friend’s shoulder. “Lucky, I’m so sorry.”
“There have been times when God spoke to me so clearly it was like He was standing in the same room. And then there were other times...” Lucky closes his eyes for a moment, breathes deeply and unsteadily, shakes his head. “Many, many others, when I heard nothing, and my doubts filled me from my heart all the way down to my fingertips, and it was so heavy and so dark, and it’s contagious, you see, that sort of faithlessness. Contagious and unbearable.” Then, miraculously, he smiles. “But when I saw the news reports about what you did on that island, all those people you saved...parents, children, lovers, friends...all the sudden, it was so much easier to believe. How can one deny the existence of God when a miracle worker walks among us? Fifty witnesses, fifty lives spared, there’s been nothing like it since the ancient times, if you even give credence to those accounts. God has blessed you so abundantly, Aemo. How can we ignore that?”
Aemond lifts his hand from Lucky’s shoulder. What did God have to do with it? “I think I understand,” he says instead.
“In my good moments, I remember the suffering of Christ and all those martyred saints, souls who were so pure and so loved by God, and who were welcomed home by Him when their time came, and who will live on eternally. I have to believe that, Aemo. That we aren’t forsaken, that we aren’t alone, that death isn’t the end. All people have to believe that.”
“Then I’ll do everything I can to win,” Aemond says. When he looks down at the pond again, he sees a dead koi floating there, its scales a vibrant glittering gold. Another one? He gestures to the fish. “Help me bury it.”
Lucky is mystified. “Why?”
So she won’t get in trouble. So they won’t send her away.
“Just help me,” Aemond insists, and Lucky does.
~~~~~~~~~~
“It’s like Whac-A-Mole with all these Italians,” Kazi says over lunch, miming smacking them with a mallet. He means the three candidates that have rapidly surged and then fallen again when it became clear they didn’t have the votes: Cardinal Edoardo Rossi, Cardinal Davide Marino, Cardinal Frederico Abatantuono. The frontrunners remain unchanged; but in the last ballot, only a single vote separated Aemond from Jake, and they both lagged conspicuously behind Jahoda. Lando, now with five silent, anonymous supporters, is clearly stymied.
Outside, it has been drizzling. You and the other nuns are delivering baskets of bread and bowls of Sicilian-style fish stew to the cardinals: garlic and herbs and vegetables and sea bass, capers, golden raisins, a steaming broth of white wine and blood red tomatoes. Across the dining hall, the nonagenarian Cardinal Bogdi Marcu of Romania has spilled soup on himself and Sister Nuru is helping to clean him up. The lean, white-haired Cardinal Auclair is stalking between the tables, pausing to whisper to other cardinals, who frown and nod at whatever he is telling them. You feel your stomach drop, but try not to appear nervous.
He’s duplicitous, and everybody knows it. He’s a sinner, he’s a liar. And he doesn’t have proof of anything.
“How’s it going?” you ask brightly as you set a bowl of stew down in front of Aemond. “I didn’t get to say hi at brekkie.”
You certainly didn’t; he was absorbed in conversations with his companions and had barely looked at you. Now he is still evasive, sipping his glass of water and pretending to brush bread crumbs from the sleeve of his red cassock. Randomly, you wonder what he is wearing under it. Beneath your white wool habit, you have on a simple navy blue cotton skirt and a light jumper, striped with black and white. “Hello, Sister,” Aemond says flatly, fidgeting with the large gold cross that hangs from his neck.
Kazi gives you a brief smile but then resumes his commentary on the revolving door of Italian candidates. Lucky and Cam don’t acknowledge you, in the same way so many cardinals treat the nuns as invisible. You are perplexed; your heartbeat is thudding, hot and ashamed.
What do they know?
“Thank you, Sister,” Lando says quietly as you serve him his stew.
“Everything alright?” you ask Aemond, trying to sound cavalier.
Please don’t ignore me. Please don’t decide this is over.
“I think it’s best to keep some distance for now,” Aemond replies, a low murmur without eye contact.
“Sure.” You steel yourself, keep your expression impassive like a statue’s, then hurry back to the bowls of stew that are still waiting to be delivered. Your white runners squeak against the tile floor. The thin iron chain of your medallion is cold against your throat. Your composure must waver once you’ve turned away from the cardinals; Rhaena is concerned when she sees you.
“Are you good, mate?” she asks.
You force a smile. “Yeah, just a bit knackered.”
“Have a snooze this arvo?”
Before you can reply, there is a loud voice from across the dining hall, Kazi cackling as he points to one of the windows: “Oh look, there is a rainbow outside. No one tell Jahoda, he will spend all afternoon lecturing it about how it is destined for Hell.”
Cardinal Auclair leaps up from where he was hissing to a group of cardinals from Ireland. “Brother, can we desist with this slander? In his work on the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith, Cardinal Jahoda played a pivotal role in the drafting of the Dignitas Infinita of 2024, which condemned violence and discrimination against homosexuals—”
“While the Church itself remains prejudiced against them. How many stones can we hurl from our glass house?”
Auclair smiles patiently, as if he is speaking to a child. “Cardinal Jahoda has unfailingly advocated for the dignity and salvation of every person, no matter how imperfect. Perhaps if you read more, you would know that.”
“I read about how he spoke out against the distribution of condoms, even in the midst of HIV outbreaks,” Kazi flings back.
Jahoda stands, his chair screeching against the floor as he pushes it out. All gazes snap to him. Cardinal Auclair looks on with eyes that flash like silver coins, grinning. “You progressives, you visionaries,” Jahoda growls, his voice deep and commanding. “You will take a system that works for ninety out of a hundred people and burn it to the ground until we can all suffer together. The Bolsheviks promised liberation. The Soviets promised equality. The Enemy wraps sin and chaos in beautiful words and thus we are seduced, but Brothers, we must resist this temptation. Our Faith has endured for two thousand years, but what is the Church without traditions? What should we ask the over one billion Catholics on the planet to believe in if we do not know ourselves, if we are forever redacting and revising and daring to place our weak mortal judgment over God’s?”
Throughout the dining hall cardinals are muttering, some in disapproval, more in concurrence. Kazi rises to his feet. “But the Church is always changing, Brother. Should we never have permitted Mass to be held in local languages, or moved away from our teachings on the divine right of kings, or improved our working relationships with other faiths—?”
“And yet it is this tolerance of other faiths and doctrines that so often imperils the most vulnerable!” Jahoda says, and now some of the cardinals are applauding. “I still remember that summer when Brezhnev’s tanks rolled into my country. I remember helping my neighbors paint over all the road signs so there were none left except those that pointed the way back to Moscow, I remember giving the soldiers wrong directions as they threatened us with their guns, we who were children, we who were having our innocence destroyed before our own eyes.”
Kazi sighs; he’s heard this so many times. “Yes, yes, Brother, we all know you were there in Prague championing democracy—”
“And my father took a bullet for it!” Jahoda thunders, and no one has anything to respond with except hushed awe or reflection or shame, and after a moment Kazi sits down and gives Aemond an apologetic glance like he knows he’s made a mistake.
Maybe Aemond won’t win, you think, and what you feel in your ribcage glowing warm and low like embers might be hope.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Sister!” you hear someone shout frantically, and here comes Sister Penny hurtling out of the Domus Sanctae Marthae just as you are headed there to tend to the washing. There were two more ballots in the afternoon, two clouds of black smoke loosed from the chimney of the Sistine Chapel, and so there is no new Holy Father yet. Dinner is in a few hours. You are ravenous to see Aemond again and yet dreading it; he fills your skull like sea water, stormy, swirling, full of riptides.
What is happening to me? Where can this lead?
“Sister Penny?” you answer. She is characteristically frazzled, strands of unruly red hair escaping from under her veil, her pale freckled face flushed. She canters to you, huffing from the exertion.
“Would you do me a favor, Sister? I’m so sorry to spring it on you like this.”
“No wukkas, mate.”
“Would you please ride with Cardinal Marcu to the airport?” Sister Penny says. You envision him: slow and stooped and shaky, wrinkled, archaic, a relic of a far older Church, here only as an advisor to the cardinals, over eighty and therefore ineligible to vote in the conclave. “He has an urgent medical appointment he can’t reschedule, a CAT scan or something. Sister Augustina had arranged for him to travel home to Romania today, and she promised she’d accompany him to the airport, but obviously she’s not here anymore and I just found out about all of this when I saw Cardinal Marcu in his room packing his suitcase. He’s expecting a chaperone, and I have to supervise the dinner preparations.”
You study the brick wall that surrounds Vatican City. “But I’ll be allowed in again, right?”
“Of course,” Sister Penny assures you. “We have a driver, you’ll stay in the car the whole time. As long as you don’t speak to anyone outside, you haven’t violated your oath of secrecy.”
You smile, relieved. “Beautiful.” No one assisting with the conclave can contact the world beyond the Vatican for any reason aside from an absolute emergency, not even greeting the crowds gathered in Saint Peter’s Square, not even a phone call or a text. To break seclusion is to risk not just expulsion from the conclave but excommunication from the Church, lifelong banishment, perpetual dishonor.
“Assistants from Cardinal Marcu’s parish have flown in and will be there to meet him at the airport and escort him the rest of the way. You’ll just keep him company in the meantime.”
“Schmick.”
“What?”
“Cool, I got it.”
Sister Penny exhales, mollified, and pats your shoulder gratefully. Behind her, you see Cardinal Marcu shuffling out of the Domus Sanctae Marthae with one of the other Romanian cardinals, who is carrying Marcu’s suitcase for him and soaking in those last convoluted ramblings of wisdom. “Thank you so much for your flexibility.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” you say cheerfully. “To help.” And as far as Sister Penny knows, that’s true.
Soon a Vatican employee arrives, sitting grim-faced behind the wheel of one of the tiny white Fiat Pandas in a black suit and sunnies. He is heaving Cardinal Marcu’s suitcase into the boot and Sister Penny is wishing the elderly cardinal farewell when you notice Aemond watching from a side street, one of the narrow snaking paved paths draped in the shadows of the buildings. You wander over to meet him when it becomes clear he’s waiting for you to.
Aemond says uncertainly, looking at the gate and then back to you: “You’re breaking seclusion?”
“I’m not breaking anything.”
“But you’re leaving.”
“I’ve been asked to accompany Cardinal Marcu to the airport. I’m not stepping foot outside the car or speaking to anyone else. No phone, no radio, I won’t even roll the windows down. I’m not being unduly influenced. I’m not violating any rules. It’s cruisy, I’ll be back in an hour.”
Aemond glances uneasily at the gate again. “Tell them to send someone else.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t have the authority to refuse Sister Penny’s requests. But you do.”
But of course he won’t say anything; he can’t be perceived as interfering on your behalf, he can’t fuel the rumors. And so Aemond only frowns, vexed, conflicted, powerless in a way he so rarely is now.
“Goodbye, Cardinal Targaryen,” you quip as you turn away.
But he’s not done yet. “What if something happens and they won’t let you back into Vatican City?”
“You can’t talk to me anyway, so why do you care?”
Aemond doesn’t reply. He only watches you leave, his remaining blue eye fixed and brooding.
You spin around and walk backwards a few steps. “See you at dinner,” you say with a smirk. “From a distance, of course.” Then you whirl towards the car, your white habit gusting in the brisk December wind. On the periphery of your vision, the red pillar that is Aemond stalls a moment longer and then strides off in the direction of the Domus Sanctae Marthae. From the other side of the brick wall, you can hear that the crowds gathered in Saint Peter’s Square with their signs and their prayers and their candles are singing Joy To The World.
You climb into the back seat of the Fiat, and there the prehistoric Cardinal Bogdi Marcu is eagerly awaiting you. You have the sense he would be just as pleased to see Sister Rhaena, or Sister Penny, or Sister Nuru, or Sister Helvi, or anyone else, really; he just doesn’t want to be alone. This is one of the great triumphs of the Church, however marred it may be by the inexhaustible failings of mankind. You get a family for life, and it is over a billion souls strong.
As the driver exits Vatican City via a skinny paved street—passing through a gate monitored by the Swiss Guard—and follows the perimeter of Saint Peter’s Square, Cardinal Marcu points with gnarled arthritic hands and describes the features to you: nearly three hundred marble columns encircling the piazza, cobblestones made of volcanic basalt, two fountains, an ancient Egyptian obelisk that has stood at the center since the 1500s. Then he begins yammering about the horribly sinful shows he’s stumbled across recently while home in Romania—Big Brother, Survivor, Love Island—and how there’s been no decency on television since that shameless American president spoke about his affair with a White House intern, something Cardinal Marcu seems to think transpired just a few years ago. You smile and nod along politely.
Ordinarily, the ride to Leonardo da Vinci International Airport would only take half an hour, but traffic is bad and many of the roads near the Vatican are closed or altered to accommodate the tens of thousands of tourists who have made the pilgrimage here to witness the ascension of the next pope. From the back seat, you watch Cardinal Marcu toddle out of the Fiat and into the waiting arms of two assistants, and by the time you’ve returned to Saint Peter’s Square, dusk is descending and the sky is pink and gold. The driver sighs as he waits in a long line of taxis, the route blocked by a tour bus that took a wrong turn and is now being directed by a fleet of police officers to spin around on the narrow street. Your driver, avoiding the radio, turns up the volume as he listens to an Andrea Bocelli CD. You have the ludicrous temptation to ask: Can you play some Bruce Springsteen? Can you play Atlantic City?
From the far end of the piazza, you gaze at the façade of Saint Peter’s Basilica, where statues of Christ and his apostles preside over the sea of congregants with their flickering candles and their handwritten signs. You see supporters of Cardinal Jahoda waving miniature flags of the Czech Republic and Hungary and Germany, Jake’s followers from Lebanon and Jordan and Syria and Cyprus, Aemond’s devotees from Greece and Italy and the United States. One woman’s poster reads, alongside a newspaper article about what happened on Nea Kameni framed in blue glitter glue: I believe in miracles!
As car horns blare and the driver mutters in Italian, your eyes trace the perimeter of the square. Perched atop the marble columns like benevolent gargoyles are the statues of over a hundred saints: Saint Lawrence who was roasted alive on a gridiron, Saint Sebastian who was pierced by arrows, Saint Lucy whose eyes were gouged out, Saint Thomas Aquinas who died comfortable and revered. Absentmindedly, you touch the plain iron medallion that hangs from your neck. You wonder which of the statues is Saint Agatha.
A small, flimsy-looking metal fence separates the road from the entrance to the pedestrian area. The Fiat rolls forward a few sluggish meters, then stops again. The driver groans. You have to get all the way around the piazza before you can enter Vatican City via one of the stone gates manned by the Swiss Guard. You imagine—against your will, and yet undeniably—that Aemond is waiting there, anxious to ensure that you are granted reentry and thus your stolen time together is not yet over.
“I can walk from here,” you offer, before you remember that isn’t allowed.
“Stay in the car, Sister,” the driver barks in a thick Italian accent, then he gets out and slams the door shut behind him. Through the windshield, you watch him jog over to where the tour bus is still blocking the road and start shouting at the police officers. At first they yell back, then the driver shows them a badge identifying him as a Vatican employee and the police officers are suddenly much more accommodating, pointing him towards a side street that is blocked off by orange traffic barrels but will presumably be opened for him.
As you wait for the driver to return to the Fiat, you peer through the window at the crowd again. It is beginning to thin out, now that today’s ballots are past and twilight is approaching. The sky is turning fiery, blood orange and incandescent amber. The driver is walking back to the car and the traffic barrels are being moved aside. Your eyes catch on a group of Filipino tourists carrying massive cardboard cutouts with Lando’s face on them, and they are laughing as they chat with each other and share a package of Sky Flakes, and you smile and then—
There is a vicious jolt, the shriek of metal on metal, and the Fiat is spinning as it crashes through the metal barrier and into Saint Peter’s Square. Pedestrians are screaming and running; your head whips around and cracks against the window, and for a few seconds the pain is blinding, your vision black and your hands flying up to cushion your skull, and when you start getting glimpses of the world again you see just enough to realize what has happened: a lost tour bus has rocketed out of the side street and collided with the car, and as the bus squeals to a stop near the edge of the piazza, the whirling Fiat smashes sideways into one of the massive marble columns. The door you’ve been pinned against by the centrifugal force caves in; you are thrown from your seat and then yanked back by the seatbelt so forcefully the air is wrenched out of your lungs. You gasp for breath, letting your head rest against the cool window.
You think nonsensically, your skull hammering: I’m just going to have a quick snooze.
Your eyes dip shut for what could only be a minute or two. Muffled through the mangled car, there is the distorted, dreamlike warbling of voices: Italian, English, other languages too. You don’t want to wake up; being conscious is where the pain is, and the weights dragging you down into the darkness are overwhelming, intoxicating.
It’s too hot. Why is it so hot?
Your eyes flutter open, and what you see through the car window is rising threads of black smoke and the dusk-colored radiance of flames. Pedestrians from the square are pounding on the doors and shouting that there is a nun trapped inside.
That nun is me, you think dazedly, and then you lurch into full and horrifying alertness.
You click off your seatbelt and bolt across the back seat; both doors on your side of the Fiat are barred by the marble column. You unlock the door from the inside and then yank the handle...but the door remains closed. You try again, and again, and the car is getting hotter. It’s no use. The impact of the bus warped the door somehow and now it’s stuck, and you can’t get free. Pedestrians are pulling on the outside handle and trying to bust out the window, some are attempting to roll the car away from the marble column to unblock the other doors. The flames are growing taller, and now there is so much smoke the faces of the people trying to save you are obscured.
You scramble over the center console and into the passenger’s seat, where you tug franticly on the handle. This door won’t open either; you are imprisoned, you are entombed. The people outside are backing away as the heat becomes unbearable. They are calling for firefighters who will be able to extinguish the flames or pry a door open or break a window, but by then it will be too late.
“No!” you scream, pounding your fists on the window. “No, don’t leave! Don’t give up yet! I’m still alive in here, please help me!”
But the fire is scorching, the fire is lethal; the metal inside the car is hot enough to scald you when you touch it. You are in an oven. You are dying. You are Saint Joan of Arc tied to the stake; you are Saint Lawrence being roasted alive.
“Help me!” you sob, beating your hands against the window. Sweat is slick on your palms and pouring down your face. Your skin is flushed and burning. The rubber soles of your runners are melting into the floor. “Help! Someone help, please!”
But your would-be rescuers are gone. No one can withstand the flames. You can just barely decipher their silhouettes through the wall of thick, churning grey.
You curl up against the window, fumble your rosary out of the pocket of your habit, and clasp the white pearl beads, taking deep trembling breaths into your lungs. Dark acrid smoke sears your trachea and capillary beds. Sweat stings when it streams down into your eyes.
“I’m not ready to go,” you tell God in a choked, terrified whisper. “Please don’t abandon me. I’m not ready, I’m not ready. There are too many things I haven’t done yet.”
And then you see him cut through the smoke like a red blade, undaunted by the inferno, moving swiftly so he won’t be consumed by it, won’t be claimed, won’t be incinerated. The fire glows on his face; the flames are reflected in the blue of his eye. Aemond rips his gold cross off his neck and then there is a clang and a snapping sound; later, you will learn that he shoved the cross into the door gap and struck it with the heel of his hand so hard he split his palm to the bone. The car door pops open, and you collapse into his arms.
You try to flee from the blaze with Aemond, but you can’t walk; your knees and ankles buckle, your skull is throbbing and the world spiraling. You stumble and Aemond grabs you, drags you, pulls you singlehandedly back from the brink of oblivion.
He’s on fire, you think dizzily as the smoke begins to clear and the clamoring pedestrians reappear, shouting in relief and astonishment.
“That’s him!” you can hear people saying. “That’s Cardinal Aemond Targaryen!”
Aemond feels the heat of the flames licking on his shoulders and rips off his cassock, and it billows in the wind like a red sail. Underneath he has on black trousers and a white dress shirt, the top few buttons torn open in the turmoil, a small gold medallion glinting against his bare chest. You’ve never seen this before. Through the haze of shock and smoke and pain, you wonder who he is wearing.
Aemond realizes before you do that the wool of your white habit has caught fire, and in seconds he has tugged it off of you; but underneath your navy blue cotton skirt and light jumper are smoldering too.
Is he going to strip me? you think, disoriented. Here in front of everybody?
But no, Aemond has other ideas; he hauls you into the cold pattering water of one of the fountains and splashes into the pool with you, cradling you as you sputter and shake violently, the adrenaline evaporating, the agony in your skull and spine all-consuming. You are crying as you cling to him. Your rosary is still tangled in your fingers. By the marble column, the Fiat is now entirely engulfed in flames. The sirens of firetrucks are approaching.
I almost died. And if that was the very end, what regrets would I have?
“I’m here, I’m here,” Aemond is saying, taking the pins out so he can remove your veil, smoothing back your hair with the hand he’s not yet aware he is hemorrhaging from, blood pouring from his palm like a stigmata. “You’re safe now. Shh, you’re alright. Nobody will hurt you. I’ll never let anything hurt you.”
Cardinal Seaborn appears, panting from his sprint across the piazza. His crimson cassock is rumpled and his zucchetto blown away, his face furious. Behind him, the metallic shell of the Fiat burns luminously. “You broke seclusion!” he booms at Aemond. “You could be disqualified! You could be excommunicated!”
“Then do it!” Aemond roars back, his blood running down your face, copper on your lips, scarlet salt on your tongue.
But of course, Cardinal Seaborn cannot dismiss him, this man who has just performed his second miracle and will so effortlessly be declared a saint upon his death. Pedestrians have gathered around the fountain like pilgrims to a holy site and are taking photos and video clips, they are cheering, they are praying, and they are chanting loudly enough that even the cardinals inhumed within the walls of Vatican City must be able to hear: “Targaryen, Targaryen, Targaryen!”
You murmur to Aemond as he holds you, icy water lapping at your charred jumper, your skirt fanning out like a koi fish’s tail: “Well, you’re defo going to win now.”
And then there in the fountain, as the dusk sky spins high above, you black out and sink into an infinite, starless sea of silence.
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen#aemond x you#aemond x reader#aemond x y/n#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen x y/n#aemond fanfiction#aemond one eye#hotd fic#hotd fanfic
174 notes
·
View notes
Text
ੈ✩ double number 4 (smau) ੈ✩
pairing : lando norris x fem reader
summary : Y/N gets to know she has two boyfriends with the name Lando
tw : identity theft, fake fans ¿ , suggestive ( very less )
fc: Ningning from Aespa
a/n : thank you so much to @rochyu for suggesting this ! lysm 🫶🏻 also I am not pursuing law ( finance girly here ) so if by mistake I have used a wrong law term, lmk and I will correct it !
·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚



liked by user1, user2, user3 and others
iamtaken when your boyfriend sends you a good morning picture and message 🫶🏻
view comments
user1 you are so lucky 😭
user2 where do you even find such guys 🌝
user3 is third floor enough ?
user4 he is so handsome 😮💨
user5 what’s his name ?
iamtaken lance ❤️
user6 that face looks to familiar …
user7 has he ever video called you ?
iamtaken that’s a very personal question you are asking 🫷🏻
user7 no like just please answer
iamtaken ofc he has !
user7 he can’t look like that
iamtaken wdym? Jealous much ?
user7 not jealous, you got played, that’s an f1 driver, Lando Norris
iamtaken huh?
user8 MY GOD HE IS THE SAME!
user9 YOU ARE DATING A RICH GUY ?
user10 u are dating a f1 driver ?
user11 chill y’all, lando is already dating someone else
iamtaken it's just a coincidence
user12 girl, what’s his id ?
iamtaken @ lanceperez
user13 that guy is certainly a f1 fan 💀
user14 Stroll and Checo 🗿
user15 deadly combination 🌝
user16 we need to blow the account up so that the authorities see this and address the situation!
user17 it’s not a mere prank, it’s literally identity theft !
iamtaken is it a wrong time to say that I sent him money ?
user18 girl 💀
user19 tag lando, mclaren and his gf !
user20 @ mclaren @ landonorris @ yninging
user21 @ mclaren @ landonorris @ yninging



liked by landonorris, alexandramiuex, versace and others
yninging shoutout to @ Versace for making this dress and shoutout to the real @ landonorris for taking it off me
view comments
user1 mic drop
user2 belt drop 💀
user3 SHE SLAYEd!?
user4 do I look at the caption or her -
landonorris my hands are waiting ?
landonorris come over soon 🫶🏻
user5 lando upholding his feeakyness
user6 I thought only max matched his freak
user7 they only match in crashing into each other 💪🏻
user8 to have a pretty a pretty girlfriend 😮💨
user9 another pretty hand doll for money
user10 bruv, -10000 aura
user11 no wait actually, we know nothing about her except her name, nationality and her extremely extravagant lifestyle
user12 not we, only you, she is a Chinese heiress to €34 billion tycoon back in China
user13 and she has done her masters from London Business School
user12 talk about brains and beauty



liked by ynining, charlesleclerc, lewishamilton and others
landonorris the girls I have cheated with on @ yninging
view comments
user1 was this supposed to be posted …
user2 Lando wrong acc ?
user3 YALL ITS HIS GIRLFRIEND WITH DIFFERENT HAIR COLORS
user4 LMAOO
user5 it’s the same girl -
user6 all of them are same !?
user7 the girl spawned a new face every time she dyed her hair
user8 her dyeing her hair is as frequent as max winning
user9 the caption scared me -
yninging good 👍
user10 she has turned into a gramp 💀
user11 how is she so pretty?
user12 Lando may not score in races, but he scored in the love department
user13 you did not just -
mclaren Kindly refrain from giving the PR a heart attack
landonorris 🧡
#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#f1 smau#f1 scenario#formula one scenarios#f1 imagine#formula one imagines#formula one imagine#f1 scenarios#lando norris smau#lando norris scenarios#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris au#lando norris#lando x reader#formula 1 fic#f1 fluff#f1 texts#f1 fanfic#f1#formula 1#f1 fic#formula 1 x reader#aespa#ningning#aespa ningning
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
30 MINUTES REMAINING!!!
RODY'S MAKESHIP PLUSHIE PETITION IS ENDING SOON!
Please go pledge and support us devs & guarantee yourself a Rody Plush if you were planning to but haven't already! Let's see how many we can get till the very end!!!
#dead plate#dead plate game#dead plate rody#rody lamoree#studio investigrave#makeship#racheldrawsthis
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Clandestine - MYG (18+) [Teaser]
Pairing: Crown Prince!Yoongi X Royal Employee!Reader
Theme: angst, mutual pining, almost strangers to lovers au, modern royalty au, forbidden love au.
Word count: 0.5k (for the teaser)
Summary: Crown Prince Min Yoongi has a secret - He doesn't want to be the king. Neither does he want to be engaged and eventually married to the business tycoon's daughter that has been chosen for him. He is already throat deep in dilemma when you enter in his life to increase every issue by ten fold because now soon-to-be king Min Yoongi is in love with you and falling for a royal employee and pining after her is nothing short of a Clandestine affair.
Warnings: Mature themes, implied depression, smut in later chapters.
Minors do not interact!!
Masterlist | Patreon (For early access)
A/N: Taglist requests are open. Comment down to be added. Make sure to have your age added to your bio while commenting. if not, then mention your age.
Full Chapter is available in Patreon.
P.S: If you are new to patreon and using an iOS device then you will have to pay $4.5 while my monthly membership is of $3. to avoid paying extra, use patreon web instead of the app.
It takes the woman a full two minutes and half to take him to the shore. And once both of them were on their feet, he pushes his savior away (she falls on her butt and again that’s none of Yoongi’s business) and focuses on nursing the pain that’s currently splitting his scalp in half.
“Hey you! I just saved you and this is what I get in return!” he can hear shock and disappointment in the voice but he has his own demons to tame.
If he could he would have buried his head in the sand now but that’s for another day.
“Did I ask you to save me?” He finally stands straight, opens his eyes and faces the woman behind destroying his escape.
The woman, you, are rather small but you certainly exhibit extreme power despite your small frame.
You have a small face - a beautiful one, big eyes, full lips - if Yoongi wasn’t mourning his greatest loss today, he would have fallen for you right here and now.
You grasp upon having a clear look at his face. Rubbing your eyes once you straighten your posture and face him with a jaw hanging ajar.
“Y-your hi-highness.” you grasp. Yoongi realizes the ocean water hasn’t wiped out his identity just the way he would have liked.
“I am sorry… to intrude on whatever business you had in the ocean. Please, spare me from execution.” your voice trembles as you bow deeply.
Yoongi laughs. For the first time in a week (or maybe months) he laughs genuinely, from the core of his heart.
“You were right. I was trying to die. And don’t worry. I won’t have you executed for saving my life.” Somehow his words are less heavy now. He feels light. Maybe it’s the ocean or maybe it’s the presence of a stranger - you.
But he regrets it. As soon as his words are out of his mouth - a confirmation that can make national news, can put his eligibility for the crown under scrutiny - he regrets.
He expects you to appear shocked, grasp, fall on his knees and tell him not to die like an average person but do none of it.
You laugh, as breezy as the ocean air. Yoongi stares shamelessly.
“All of us want to die at a point in life. It’s alright. But you know what - you are too young. If wikipedia is right then you are twenty-one now. Try again in five or so years. Maybe it will be worth dying then?” Your speech fills the gap of Yoongi’s wit that he didn’t know he had.
“I guess.” he murmurs, as he keeps staring at you.
Permanent Taglist: @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie @mikrokookiex @jjk174 @lallataegi @savageyoongi @jwnghyuns @parapiop7 @futuristicenemychaos @purpleanchorcrown @armystay89
#bts angst#yoongi angst#suga angst#bts smut#yoongi smut#suga smut#bts x reader#yoongi x reader#suga x reader#bts x you#yoongi x you#suga x you#bts fanfiction#yoongi fanfic#yoongi scenarios#yoongi imagine#bts imagines#bts yoongi#bts suga#bts
141 notes
·
View notes
Text
Merging Arrangments | wonwoo pt. 1
Author: bratzkoo Pairing: chaebol heir! wonwoo x chaebol heiress!/ nurse! reader Genre: angst, fluff, eventual smut Rating: PG-15 to NC-17 Word count: 4k~ Warnings/note: for my Anna, my beautiful nurse. Happy birthday!
Everything marked with [M] have mature scenes and should not be read by minors.
summary: Jeon Wonwoo's been smitten with you for years, as the two of you enter an arranged marriage, he hopes you'll feel the same.
Arrange marriage! au
taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @escoupseu , @yanabaaaaaaarysheva , @spnyin , @sousydive , @gyuguys , @gyubakeries , @tokitosun , @gaslysainz , @armycarat2612
requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist
The Grand Hyatt Seoul stood majestically against the backdrop of Namsan Mountain, its glass facade reflecting the late afternoon sun. Today, the luxurious hotel buzzed with an energy beyond its usual five-star opulence. It was playing host to the wedding of the year—the union of Jeon Group and Kit Medical Group through their heirs, Jeon Wonwoo and Y/N Kit.
In the grand ballroom, staff members scurried about like well-dressed ants, making last-minute adjustments to flower arrangements and place settings. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over tables draped in silk, each centerpiece a small fortune of exotic blooms. The air hummed with anticipation and barely concealed gossip.
"I heard it was arranged just two months ago," a waiter whispered to his colleague as they adjusted the champagne flutes at the head table.
The other waiter nodded knowingly. "Chaebol marriages," he replied with a hint of cynicism. "Always about business, never about love."
"Shh!" hissed a nearby supervisor. "Less talking, more working. The guests will be arriving soon."
Outside, a fleet of black luxury cars began to arrive, disgorging a who's who of Korean high society. Cameras flashed as celebrities, business tycoons, and politicians made their way into the hotel, their designer outfits and dazzling jewelry a clear display of wealth and status.
---
In a luxurious suite upstairs, Y/N Kit sat before a gilded mirror, her reflection a picture of bridal perfection—and internal turmoil. Her raven hair was swept up in an intricate updo, adorned with tiny diamond-encrusted pins that caught the light with every slight movement. The wedding dress, a custom Vera Wang creation, hugged her figure before flowing out in a cascade of delicate lace and silk. Yet, her eyes, usually bright and determined, now held a hint of uncertainty, a stark contrast to the flawless makeup that adorned her face.
"Miss Y/N, you look absolutely stunning," her makeup artist gushed, stepping back to admire her work. "Like a princess from a fairy tale."
Y/N managed a weak smile, the effort evident. "Thank you," she murmured, her gaze fixed on her reflection, as if trying to recognize the woman staring back at her.
As the artist packed up her supplies, Y/N's mind drifted to two months ago, the day that had set this all in motion...
Y/N had just finished a grueling shift at the hospital, her scrubs rumpled and her hair in a messy ponytail. She'd been looking forward to a quiet evening at home, maybe catching up on some medical journals. Instead, she found her parents waiting in the living room, their faces a mix of excitement and stern determination."An arranged marriage?" Y/N had exclaimed, staring at her parents in disbelief. The words felt foreign on her tongue, like something out of a historical drama rather than her real life. "But I barely know Jeon Wonwoo!"
Her father's eyes had been steely, unyielding. "This union will secure the future of both our companies. It's your duty, Y/N. The merger with Jeon Group will allow us to expand our medical services, to help more people."
"But my nursing career—" Y/N had started, her voice trailing off as she saw the dismissive look in her mother's eyes.
"You can do charity work as a chaebol wife," her mother had interjected smoothly, reaching out to pat Y/N's hand. "It's time you left this nurse phase behind. Think of all the good you can do with the resources of both families at your disposal."
Y/N had felt the walls closing in, her carefully laid plans crumbling around her. "Don't I get a say in this?" she had asked, hating how small her voice sounded.
Her father's expression had softened slightly. "Sometimes, Y/N, we must put aside our personal desires for the greater good. This is one of those times."
A knock at the door jolted Y/N back to the present. She blinked rapidly, banishing the memory and the tears that threatened to form. The door opened to reveal her parents, her father resplendent in a bespoke tuxedo, her mother glittering with diamonds that probably cost more than most people's houses.
"Oh, darling," her mother cooed, gliding into the room with practiced grace. "You look perfect. Like a true Kit heiress."
Her father nodded approvingly, his eyes sweeping over Y/N with a businessman's attention to detail. "Remember, Y/N," he said, his voice gentle but firm, "smile for the cameras. This wedding is about more than just you and Wonwoo. It's about the future of both our families, and the thousands of people who rely on our companies."
Y/N felt her chest tighten at his words, the weight of expectation settling on her shoulders like a heavy cloak. She managed a nod, not trusting her voice to remain steady if she spoke.
As her parents left, murmuring about greeting guests, Y/N allowed herself a moment of vulnerability. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to center herself. The quiet was short-lived, however, as the door burst open again, admitting her best friends, Alexys and Ela.
"Wow, unnie!" Ela exclaimed, her eyes wide with admiration. "You look like a princess from a manhwa!"
Alexys whistled low, circling Y/N with an exaggerated appraising look. "A very expensive princess. I think your veil costs more than my apartment. Actually, probably more than my entire apartment building."
Despite herself, Y/N felt a laugh bubble up. "Alexys, behave!" she admonished, but there was no heat in her words.
"What?" Alexys grinned, striking a pose that was likely meant to be model-esque but came off more comical. "I'm just saying, if you need someone to carry that train, I volunteer as tribute. I could use a workout, and that dress looks heavy enough to count as weightlifting."
As they laughed, Y/N felt some of her tension ease. These were her people, the ones who knew her as just Y/N, not the Kit heiress or the future Mrs. Jeon. But as quickly as it had come, the moment of levity passed, and doubt crept back in, darkening her expression.
"I don't know if I can do this," Y/N confessed quietly, sinking onto a nearby chaise lounge. "It's all happening so fast. Two months ago, I was focused on my nursing career, on making a difference. And now..."
Ela sat beside her, squeezing her hand supportively. "You're the strongest person I know, Y/N. You'll get through this, and you'll find a way to make a difference, no matter what."
Alexys nodded, her face uncharacteristically serious as she knelt in front of Y/N. "And we'll be right here with you, every step of the way. Although," she added, a mischievous glint returning to her eye, "if you want to make a run for it, I've got a getaway car and a foolproof plan involving two wigs, a llama, and a hot air balloon."
Despite herself, Y/N giggled, the absurd image lightening her mood. "I think I'll pass on the llama plan. But thank you, both of you. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Probably be a lot more stressed and a lot less entertained," Alexys quipped, standing up and smoothing out her bridesmaid dress. "Now, let's get you married, shall we? I've got a bet going with one of the groomsmen on whether I can catch the bouquet while doing a backflip."
As they prepared to leave the room, Y/N took one last look in the mirror. The woman looking back at her was a bride, yes, but she was also still Y/N. With her friends by her side, maybe she could face whatever came next.
---
In another suite, Jeon Wonwoo adjusted his bowtie for the thousandth time, his normally steady hands betraying his nerves. The sleek lines of his custom-tailored tuxedo accentuated his tall, lean frame, but it was his eyes that drew attention—dark, intelligent, and currently filled with a mix of anticipation and anxiety.
"You'll wear it out if you keep fiddling," Mingyu, his best friend and best man, commented from where he lounged on a nearby chair. Despite his relaxed posture, Mingyu cut an impressive figure in his own tuxedo, his easy smile a stark contrast to Wonwoo's tense expression.
Wonwoo sighed, dropping his hands and turning to face his friend. "I just want everything to be perfect. This day... it means more than anyone realizes."
Mingyu's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. "You've been in love with her for years, haven't you? Y/N, I mean."
Wonwoo's silence was answer enough. His mind drifted to a charity gala five years ago, the first time he had truly seen Y/N Kit...
The ballroom had been crowded, full of Seoul's elite in expensive gowns and tuxedos. Wonwoo, then a university student being groomed to take over Jeon Group, had been making the rounds with his father, shaking hands and making small talk. That's when he had spotted her—Y/N Kit, still in high school, her eyes alight with passion as she spoke to a group of doctors.
"I want to be a nurse," she had been saying, her voice clear and determined. "Not just to follow in my family's footsteps, but to make a real difference. To be there for people when they're at their most vulnerable, to help them heal."
Wonwoo had found himself drawing closer, captivated by her enthusiasm, her compassion, her determination. In a room full of people discussing profit margins and market shares, she had been a breath of fresh air, talking about saving lives and making a difference.
That was the moment Wonwoo had fallen in love, though it had taken him some time to realize it.
"She doesn't know," Wonwoo said quietly, coming back to the present. "About my feelings, I mean. How could she? We've barely interacted outside of formal events."
Mingyu stood, clapping a hand on Wonwoo's shoulder. "Maybe this is your chance to show her, then. You're not just the Jeon heir, Wonwoo. You're a good man, with a lot to offer. Let her see that side of you."
A sharp knock interrupted them, causing both men to straighten instinctively. Wonwoo's parents entered, his father's eyes immediately zeroing in on Wonwoo's slightly askew bowtie.
"Fix that," he said brusquely, his tone leaving no room for argument. "The merger papers will be signed right after the ceremony. Everything must be perfect. The future of Jeon Group depends on this union."
Wonwoo nodded stiffly, adjusting his bowtie with practiced ease. "Yes, father. I understand the importance of today."
His mother, softer but no less focused on appearances, stepped forward to smooth an invisible wrinkle from his lapel. "You look handsome, Wonwoo-ya. Y/N Kit is a lucky girl."
As his parents left, likely to check on some other aspect of the wedding preparations, Mingyu let out a low whistle. "And I thought my parents were intense. Is it always like this?"
Wonwoo managed a weak smile, a hint of his usual dry humor showing through. "Welcome to the chaebol life, Mingyu-ya. All glamour and no pressure, right?"
Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, if anyone can handle it, it's you. Just remember, behind all this..." he gestured vaguely at the opulent room and their formal attire, "you're still Wonwoo. The guy who stays up too late reading, who can't function without his morning coffee, and who once tried to adopt every stray cat in the neighborhood."
Wonwoo felt some of his tension ease at Mingyu's words. "Thanks, Mingyu. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Probably be a lot more stressed and a lot less handsome," Mingyu quipped, echoing Wonwoo's earlier smile. "Now, let's get you married, shall we? I've got a best man speech to deliver, and I promise only minimal embarrassment."
As they prepared to leave the room, Wonwoo took one last look in the mirror. The man looking back at him was the Jeon heir, yes, but he was also still Wonwoo. With his best friend by his side and hope in his heart, maybe he could make this arranged marriage into something real.
---
The wedding ceremony was a blur of camera flashes and murmured vows. The hotel's grand ballroom had been transformed into a floral wonderland, with thousands of white roses and lilies creating an enchanted atmosphere. Soft classical music played as guests took their seats, a mix of Korea's business elite, celebrities, and politicians all eager to witness the union of two powerful families.
A hush fell over the crowd as the wedding march began. All eyes turned to the back of the room, where Y/N appeared, a vision in white. She walked down the aisle with measured steps, her arm linked with her father's. Her eyes were fixed straight ahead, her expression a carefully composed mask of bridal serenity.
In the front row, Alexys gave Y/N a subtle thumbs up, while Ela dabbed at her eyes with a delicate handkerchief. A few rows back, Choi Seung-cheol watched, his hands clenched tightly in his lap, his heart breaking with each step Y/N took towards another man.
At the altar, Wonwoo's breath caught as he saw Y/N. She was breathtakingly beautiful, the embodiment of grace and elegance. But it was the flash of vulnerability in her eyes, visible only for a moment as she took her place beside him, that made his heart ache. He wanted nothing more than to take her hand and tell her everything would be alright, that they could face this new chapter together.
The officiant began the ceremony, his words about love and commitment ringing with a hint of irony given the arranged nature of the marriage. As they exchanged rings, Y/N's hand trembled slightly. Wonwoo gave her fingers a gentle, reassuring squeeze. For a moment, their eyes met, and something passed between them—a flicker of understanding, perhaps even a spark of connection.
"I, Jeon Wonwoo, take you, Y/N Kit, to be my lawfully wedded wife," Wonwoo said, his voice steady and clear, infused with a warmth that surprised even him.
"I, Y/N Kit, take you, Jeon Wonwoo, to be my lawfully wedded husband," Y/N replied, her voice softer but no less resolute.
Then the officiant pronounced them husband and wife, and the moment was gone, swept away in a tide of applause and camera flashes.
---
The reception was a whirlwind of congratulations, speeches, and thinly veiled business discussions. Y/N and Wonwoo moved through it all in a daze, playing their parts perfectly—the blushing bride and the proud groom, the perfect chaebol couple.
During their first dance, Wonwoo leaned in close, the scent of Y/N's perfume filling his senses. "Are you okay?" he murmured, genuine concern in his voice.
Y/N plastered on a smile for the cameras, her eyes scanning the room even as she replied. "I'm fine," she said, her voice barely audible over the swelling music. "This is what's expected of us, isn't it? To play our parts."
Before Wonwoo could respond, to tell her that it didn't have to be just an act, the dance ended and they were once again swept into the crowd of well-wishers and business associates.
As Y/N made her rounds, graciously accepting congratulations and deflecting questions about future heirs with practiced ease, she found herself face to face with Seung-cheol. For a moment, neither spoke, the air between them thick with unspoken words and missed opportunities.
"You look beautiful," Seung-cheol finally said, his voice rough with emotion. He looked dashing in his suit, a far cry from the casual attire she was used to seeing him in at the hospital.
"Seung-cheol, I—" Y/N began, not sure what she wanted to say but feeling the need to say something.
"Congratulations," he cut her off, unable to meet her eyes. "I hope you'll be very happy." The words sounded hollow, a social nicety that did nothing to bridge the chasm that had opened between them.
He walked away before Y/N could respond, leaving her staring after him, a mix of regret and longing on her face. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine a different world, one where she had followed her heart instead of her duty. But the moment passed, reality reasserting itself in the form of another well-wisher approaching to offer congratulations.
From across the room, Wonwoo watched the interaction between Y/N and Seung-cheol, his heart sinking. The look on Y/N's face as she watched Seung-cheol walk away spoke volumes. Wonwoo turned away, trying to quell the surge of jealousy and disappointment, only to nearly collide with Alexys.
"Whoa there, Mr. Chaebol," she said, steadying herself with a hand on his arm. "No need to sweep me off my feet. Save that for your bride." Her eyes twinkled with mischief, a stark contrast to the formal atmosphere around them.
Wonwoo blinked, taken aback by her casual tone. In his world of rigid formality, Alexys was like a breath of fresh air. "I'm sorry, I—"
Alexys waved him off. "No worries. I'm Alexys, by the way. Y/N's friend and designated baby girl." She leaned in conspiratorially, lowering her voice. "Between you and me, I think this party could use a little livening up. What do you say we spike the punch? I've got a flask of soju in my purse."
Despite himself, Wonwoo found a smile tugging at his lips. "I don't think that would be appropriate," he said, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice.
Alexys sighed dramatically. "You're right, of course. Guess I'll have to settle for embarrassing Y/N with my dance moves instead. Fair warning: I've been practicing my 'Gangnam Style'. It's not pretty, but it's enthusiastic."
As she sashayed away, hips swaying exaggeratedly, Wonwoo felt some of his tension ease. If these were Y/N's friends, maybe there was hope for them yet. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a place in this vibrant, genuine world so different from the one he'd grown up in.
The rest of the reception passed in a blur of faces and formalities. Mingyu gave a heartfelt best man speech, carefully skirting around any mention of his own secret marriage while still managing to both embarrass and honor Wonwoo.
"I've known Wonwoo since we were kids," Mingyu said, his voice carrying across the hushed ballroom. "And I can say without a doubt that he's the most loyal, caring, and intelligent person I know. Y/N," he turned to address the bride directly, "you're not just gaining a husband today. You're gaining a partner who will stand by you, support your dreams, and probably bore you with random historical facts."
A ripple of laughter went through the crowd, and Wonwoo felt a surge of gratitude for his friend. Beside him, he felt Y/N relax slightly, a small, genuine smile playing on her lips.
As the evening wore on, business associates cornered both sets of parents, eager to discuss the implications of this new alliance. Talks of mergers, stock prices, and market expansions filled the air, a constant reminder of the true nature of this union.
Ela and Mingyu exchanged secret glances across the room, their own hidden marriage a sharp contrast to the spectacle around them. At one point, they managed to steal a moment together near the dessert table.
"How are you holding up?" Ela asked, her voice low.
Mingyu sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's harder than I thought, watching my best friend go through this. Knowing what we have..." he trailed off, his eyes conveying what he couldn't say aloud.
Ela squeezed his hand briefly. "I know. But we have to trust that they'll find their way, just like we did."
Their moment was interrupted by Alexys, who appeared with a plate piled high with desserts. "Don't mind me," she said, noticing their startled expressions. "Just here for the cake. Carry on with your secret rendezvous."
Ela rolled her eyes fondly. "Very subtle, Alexys."
"Subtlety is overrated," Alexys replied around a mouthful of cake. "Unlike this dessert. Seriously, you two should try this before the chaebol vultures descend and devour everything."
Finally, as the evening wound down, Y/N and Wonwoo found themselves alone for a moment on a balcony overlooking the Seoul skyline. The city stretched out before them, a glittering tapestry of lights and possibilities.
"It's beautiful," Y/N murmured, gazing out at the city lights. For a moment, she allowed herself to drop the perfect bride facade, her shoulders sagging slightly with exhaustion.
Wonwoo looked at her, illuminated by the soft glow of the lanterns. The fatigue evident in the line of her shoulders, the wistfulness in her eyes as she looked out at the city – it all made her seem more real, more human than the porcelain doll she'd appeared as all day. "Yes, it is," he agreed softly, though his eyes never left her face.
Y/N turned to him, and for a moment, the masks slipped away entirely. They were just two people, thrust into an impossible situation, trying to make the best of it. The vulnerability in Y/N's eyes matched the uncertainty Wonwoo felt.
"Wonwoo, I—" Y/N began, her voice hesitant.
"Y/N, dear!" her mother's voice cut through the moment like a knife. "It's time to leave for your honeymoon. The car is waiting."
The spell broken, Y/N and Wonwoo shared a rueful look before making their way back inside. They said their goodbyes, accepted final congratulations, and made their way to the waiting car.
As they settled into the backseat of the luxury vehicle, a heavy silence fell between them. The partition between them and the driver offered a semblance of privacy, but neither seemed to know what to say now that they were truly alone.
From the steps of the hotel, Seung-cheol watched the car pull away, his heart heavy. He'd come to the wedding hoping for... what? A last-minute confession? A dramatic objection? Now, watching the taillights disappear into the Seoul traffic, he felt the finality of the situation settle over him like a weight.
Ela and Mingyu stood together, their hands brushing but not quite holding in deference to the watchful eyes around them. Their own secret weighed on them as they watched their friends drive off into an uncertain future.
Alexys stood with her arm around Ela, for once without a quip. "They'll be okay, right?" she asked, her usual bravado absent.
Ela leaned into her friend's embrace. "I hope so," she said softly. "I really hope so."
The parents watched with satisfaction, already planning their next moves. Mergers to finalize, press releases to craft, the future of their empires to secure.
As the car merged into the Seoul traffic, Y/N and Wonwoo sat side by side, not touching, each lost in their own thoughts. The future stretched out before them, uncertain and daunting. The weight of expectations, of duty, of their own conflicted feelings – it all seemed overwhelming in the quiet of the car.
But as the city lights blurred past the windows, something shifted. Almost imperceptibly, Y/N's hand moved closer to Wonwoo's on the leather seat between them. And after a moment's hesitation, he took it, giving it a gentle squeeze.
They didn't look at each other. They didn't speak. But in that small gesture lay the tiniest seed of hope for Wonwoo – a hope that maybe, just maybe, they could face this uncertain future together. That perhaps, in time, duty could become desire, and an arranged marriage could become something real.
As the car wound its way through the streets of Seoul, taking them towards their honeymoon and the beginning of their life together, that small point of contact between them seemed to hold all the possibility in the world.
#mansaenetwork#kvanity#svt#seventeen#wonwoo#wonu#jeon wonwoo#jeon wonu#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo x reader#chaebol! wonwoo#arranged marriage#arranged marriage! svt#arranged marriage! au#jeon wonwoo imagine#jeon wonwoo fic#jeon wonwoo fluff#wonwoo angst#wonu fluff#wonu angst#jeon wonwoo angst#svt imagine#seventeen imagines#svt x reader#svt imagines
396 notes
·
View notes