oliviaischillin1204 · 2 days ago
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tickletober day 25- “new discovery”
word count: 1,729 words
i think this actually started as a prompt for tickletober 2020 (lmfAooooo) so i’m glad i could finish it now!!
Janus sighed for what felt like the hundredth time in as many minutes. He’d been a having a moral conundrum, and he’d only recently figured out how to go about solving it. Or, well, hopefully solving it. Maybe the solution he’d come up with would make everything worse instead. That’s always a possibility.
As if he could read Janus’ mind, Janus’ phone buzzed with another text from Patton. He stole a quick glance at the kitchen doorway before tapping the screen.
Patton: Have U told him yet???
Janus: u know he doesn’t wake up before noon
Patton: LOL!
Patton: Well, Jan The Man, whatever happens, I got UR back!
Patton: high_five.gif
Patton: fist_bump.gif
Patton: puppy_saying_yeah.gif
Janus: ,,,,, thank u patton
Janus sighed yet again-- but this time his sigh was followed by a matching yawn from behind him.
He slammed his phone down on the table and whirled around. “Good morning!” Fuck, he was never that positive. He had to dial it back. “You look like shit.” Well. That’s one way of doing it.
Luckily, Virgil either didn’t notice or didn’t care to comment on Janus’ jumpy behavior-- he yawned again and made a beeline for the coffee pot, where Janus had graciously prepared another pot just in time for Virgil’s late rise.
“You’re thinking too loud,” he muttered as he poured his coffee. “Talk or shut your brain up.”
Janus snorted. Well, if Virgil didn’t care about being indelicate, then Janus sure wouldn’t.
“I found your blog.”
Virgil sighed, not looking up as his scooped a copious amount of sugar into the mug. “Yes, I remember, I got drunk enough to show my 2013 era Tumblr to Roman, and he got drunk enough to send it to the group chat. Cool reminder.”
“Not that one-- although your Superwholock fic was surprisingly well written,” Janus said. “I found... another blog. Of yours.”
“My anime blog?” Virgil asked. “Don’t you already follow that one?”
“Another blog,” Janus hissed. “A blog you haven’t told us about.”
With his mug only an inch away from hid mouth, Virgil froze.
It was enough to tell Janus everything he needed to know.
“I don’t have any other blogs,” Virgil said, quickly bringing the mug up to his face and taking a sip.
“Virgil. Please don’t insult me by lying so boldly in my face.”
“Who’s lying?” he replied. “Not me. I’m standing up, not lying... down, that is-- oh, dad joke, ha! Speaking of which I think I’m supposed to be meeting Patton for, uh, brunch, right now--”
He darted out of the room, nearly sloshing his coffee in his haste. Janus heard his bedroom door slam shut, and he sighed.
Well, he wasn’t going to sit around and let Virgil stew in his own nerves. He got up from the table and moved to the hallway, coming to a stop right in front of Virgil’s bedroom door. He heard no movement coming from inside, so he figured Virgil was probably frozen in panic as he thought about what Janus had said.
“I’m not going to make fun of you,” Janus said bluntly through the door. “Or tell anyone. Patton knows I had something important to tell you, but I made absolutely no references to having found a secret of yours at all. It’s just me.”
He knew that still probably wasn’t overly comforting-- Janus was, admittedly, crafty and manipulative, and he often used information as leverage to get what he wanted. But given how genuinely upset Virgil seemed to be at the mere idea that his secret blog had been found out, Janus wanted to prove that he really wasn’t going to tell anyone. And unfortunately, he knew exactly what he had to do to prove it.
“A secret for a secret, an eye for an eye,” he continued, steeling his nerves. “Because, honestly, you... aren’t the only person in this household with... that specific kind of... interest.”
Again, he heard no noise, but Janus could picture the way Virgil’s face probably shifted from blind panic to slight confusion. Janus sighed.
“How do you think I found your tickle blog in the first place?” he asked drily.
Janus ignored the urge to cringe as he said the word aloud-- this conversation was not about his embarrassing secret interests, thank you, it was about Virgil’s. He didn’t have the chance to ponder on that further, because suddenly the door clicked open in front of him, as if Virgil had opened it and hurried away.
He stepped in, and there was Virgil on his bed, lying on his stomach with his face buried in his pillow.
“You can block me if you want,” Janus said, moving to perch on the edge of the mattress. “Just let me type in my URL so you don’t see it.”
“How much did you see?” Virgil asked instead, voice muffled and defeated.
“About ten posts,” Janus said. “And no, you didn’t accidentally doxx yourself in any way. I’m just extremely clever.”
Virgil didn’t respond. At least he didn’t seem to be actively panicking, just humiliated. Janus himself was starting to feel a bit warm; he’d seen some... rather interesting posts before he’d realized whose blog he was looking at. Apparently he and Virgil had more in common than he’d realized.
“Virgil, I’m not going to bullshit you,” he said quickly, before his nerve was lost. “This sucks, and if it’d happened to me I’d break your computer in half, so I can imagine how you are feeling right now. But the fact of the matter is that we are both switches and we are home alone, and if you consent I would very much like to tickle you right now.”
Finally Virgil whipped around, eyes catching Janus’ with a wild look.
“What?” he squawked, voice cracking.
“Or you tickle me,” Janus said. “I’m really not picky.”
“This-- this is-- Janus.”
“Virgil,” Janus said firmly. “Take your pick, lee or ler?”
“I’m gonna have a fucking heart attack,” Virgil hissed. Janus could practically feel the heat radiating off his cheeks.
“I’m trying to avoid an outcome like that,” Janus said through gritted teeth. “By being disgustingly open about what I want, in the hopes that we can bypass the anxiety and awkwardness and humiiation by treating this all as if it’s perfectly normal.”
Silence hung over the room for a moment as Virgil took in the words. He looked down at his hands, fiddling with the blanket.
“I don’t know...”
Janus leaned in to catch Virgil’s mumble. Okay, that’s not a complete no. He could work with that.
“What don’t you know?” he asked with as much patience as he could muster.
Virgil continued to fiddle for a few seconds before he spoke. “Like, right now...?”
“No time like the present,” Janus replied. “Of course, we can wait if you’re not comfortable right now. Then again, I wonder how it would feel to wait in this room knowing that I’m right across the hall, ready to tickle you.”
He smirked when Virgil’s eyes snapped up towards him, a blazing blush crowning his face. “Janus!”
“What? You know I’m right. I could leave this room right now, but all your little fantasies in your head about what I could do to you would feel so delightfully real-- it’d be like I was still here.”
Nothing came out of Virgil’s mouth but a strain of choked noises. Belatedly, he covered his face with his hands. “Come on--”
“I mean, I really didn’t look very far through your blog before. I still have so many questions about this little sensitivity of yours.”
Now Virgil shoved his face back into his pillow, probably with the goal of hiding the soft whines that were now coming out of his mouth. It didn’t work.
“But, of course,” Janus continued, “I can’t touch you until you agree. You won’t get one little tickle from me until I hear you say so out loud.”
Virgil went silent for so long Janus considered checking that he hadn’t suffocated, but finally a muffled mutter came from his pillow that sounded suspiciously like the word please.
“Hm?” Janus said, because despite everything he wasn’t going to be too nice to Virgil. “I couldn’t quite catch that. You’ll have to speak up.”
More muttering, this time sounding closer to cursing, came from the pillow. Janus enjoyed drawing things out as much as the next ler, but he was getting pretty antsy. How to draw Virgil out?
Suddenly his mind flashed with a post he’d remembered seeing; a post that had also been reblogged by Virgil, with a few choice tags that made him think this could be a good idea.
“Virgil,” he asked softly. “How about you show me where you want to be tickled?”
And there it was; there was Virgil’s desperate squealing whine, his back arching just slightly, legs suddenly fidgeting behind him, and the tips of his ears burning red through his dark hair. Janus hit the nail on the head.
It only took a few more seconds for Virgil to roll over; his hands twitched, and he refused to look Janus in the face, but finally he managed to pull his t-shirt up over his stomach before shoving his face into his hands again.
Janus smirked. “I thought so.” He let one hand, gentle and wiggly, hover right above Virgil’s tummy. “When you want me to switch, I’ll just need you to pick another lovely little spot for me to tickle instead. One that’s just as ticklish, just so I know I’m getting a fair deal. You can do that, right?”
Virgil’s whine only last half a second this time, before it was replaced with a startled burst of frantic giggles as Janus began scratching all ten fingers around his sensitive tummy and sides. He curled up, and wiggled back and forth, and kicked his legs like there was no tomorrow, but his hands stayed over his eyes, his shirt stayed halfway up his torso, and he stayed right on the mattress under Janus’ lovely fingers.
“Oh, very good,” Janus cooed. His mind was already alight with all of the other posts he’d seen on Virgil’s blog, as well as things he’d found on his own that he was just so interested in trying. “You’re doing very well, Virgil. I think we’re going to have so much fun.”
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gayferrari · 1 day ago
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"except you ravish me" director's cut
Thank you for asking!!! I had so much fun writing that fic I love that I get to chat about it.
except you ravish me, 15k, rated E. omegaverse AU.
that's. look that's the chastity belt fic. u all know it. charles/seb, charles/bryan, charles/others.
This one was written for a kinkmeme prompt. When I saw it, I'd never written omegaverse before, never felt the impulse to, and I was a bit intimidated by the #lore, so shoutout to all the people whose brains I picked asking for feedback about anything from omegaverse anatomy to preferred tropes. And yes as u can see from my blog. I've been on the omegaverse train a normal amount since.
This was written before the Bryan/Charles of it all really took off. I was like, I need a hook to write terrible workplaces practises, and I didn't want to focus too much on driver x driver ships because I wanted the vibes to be, like... Charles and Ferrari's dirty little secret :3 So I wrote like 5k of Charles having a weird TPE thing with his new handsome race engineer and then they started flirting on radio #my impact
I almost named this fic "company car", except there's already a sebchal fic with that name and so I went with this one instead — not that I am arguing fic titles should be unique only, BUT within the same ship, and if the ship is small enough that I have read the other fic, I personally like to use something else. The title is from John Donne's poem Batter my heart, three-person'd God because I thought it was a funny title for a fic that could, generously, be described as "character driven smut" and at worst as just "15k of porn." The relevant lines are:
Divorce me, untie or break that knot again, Take me to you, imprison me, for I, Except you enthrall me, never shall be free, Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
knot. ahaha (I am 13).
Some line-specific thoughts under the cut
“Do you have it here? On you?” “On the keyring with my car keys. I know it’s important to have it on hand, and…” His car keys, Christ, like Charles is a fancy engine he gets to take for a spin.
What if you lived inside a porno?? The whole point of this fic is the pornification of *gestures vaguely* fucked up workplace BDSM that's treated as the best course of action by everyone involved.
This is 1) because it's the best way I could make the prompt work but more importantly 2) I think it's hot and 3) also kind of funny to consider. I usually write fics based on "how much I'd enjoy reading this, as a reader" so things that are funny to me personally feature heavily in anything I write.
Officially, only a handful of omegas have ever driven in Formula One. Charles always wondered how many more there have been who kept themselves hidden, back in the day when it would have been feasible to keep up a ruse that huge. He is only the third omega to debut in F1 this century, which makes his rookie season somewhat of a novelty.
As with most omegaverse fics u get to play "who on the grid would be what" etc etc. I didn't think very deeply about who' else's the third omega (officially) to debut in F1 in the 2000s, but it's somebody who didn't have a very long career. And some RPF favourites who I headcanon as omegas for the purposes of this AU either didn't get to F1 at all (Yuki) or had considerably shorter careers — I couldn't fit this in, but omega Lando has his rookie season in 2021 instead of 2019, and is NOT the Mclaren number 1 driver in 2024.
Again, I didn't want to go into the worldbuilding but my worldbuilding for this fic is that it's highkey a dystopia. WITH SEX <3 so it doesn't matter how #unfair it is bc everyone has orgasms.
Charles imagines asking their team doctor for a new chastity belt so he can get fucked better when he’s dying for it. The thought makes his head spin — he squirms on his back, cunt gushing with slick, and Seb’s low laugh makes it worse. “Oh, you like that,” he says, teasing just on the edge of mean. “Don’t worry, they all know already that you’re dying for it. Engineers talk, too.”
TERRIBLE MENTOR OMEGA SEB. HI. I'm going to make a separate post about the Seb of it all because someone else also asked, but I will say I had so much fun getting to use Seb to flesh out the worldbuilding.
This is a smut fic and the setting is just there to flavour the porn; buuuuut I wanted this world to look lived-in. Bad Workplace Boundaries Omegaverse is ALL AROUND THEM. Charles's POV is limited and single-focus and claustrophobic by design but it's not just Ferrari; things have been unsettlingly horny for Seb before he got there and will keep being unsettling horny after he leaves. He's kind of a cautionary tale of what Charles's future in this AU might potentially look like, which Charles is very deliberately ignoring. Absolutely normal mentorship dynamic (Seb fists him regularly and ignores him in public)
I made up an OC gross team doctor to perv on Charles in this one because I could never in my worst moment bring myself to write Charles/Binotto. At one point I considered it but it simply would not have been sexy
He can tell when Carlos finds out about the whole situation because he starts acting weird, not quite meeting Charles’s eyes, getting flustered way too easily and, once or twice, sniffing when he walks into a room like he’s trying to scent him. Once, he even sees Carlos’s gaze drop down his body like he’s trying to see through Charles’s clothes, only to stop immediately when he catches himself doing it.
CARLOS IS THE ONLY NORMAL PERSON IN THIS FIC. This is very important (and — again — funny to me personally) I didn't want to write Charles/Carlos bc it would become the focus of the whole fic. Instead, Carlos is just baffled. He's alpha though he's bad at it. So are both his parents. He's never had an omega teammate before and has never considered this weirdness. He cannot believe HR would sign off on that (don't ask him what's going on at Mclaren with the bratty omega rookie who just replaced him and Zak Brown) In-universe, Carlos refuses to see some things. From a meta point of view, he's an audience POV.
“It doesn’t hurt?” “No.” It’s not a question Charles was expecting. “It is designed not to. It’s like seat fitting, yes?” The model has been revisited over the years as his measurement changed, as comfortable as any cage can get. “It’s just… It’s a lot.”
Clapping myself on the shoulder for this part.
The whole "everyone tells Charles it's for his own good so he keeps believing it" part is like. just porn logic. so clearly I had to throw it in like 4 or 5 different times
One of my favourite parts was writing the part where Fred arrives to replace Mattia and Charles doesn't even let himself consider that maybe things are going to change. And then Fred is like :) yeah good solution carry on! jovially omegaphobic of him. Also this bit
Pierre was one of the first people Charles went to after he presented, scared that his designation meant he’d never make it as far as he wanted to. [...] Pierre, an alpha who’d never considered anything like that for himself, obviously thought that Charles was overreacting, but he was kind enough to listen anyway, and try to understand. Charles wonders sometimes if Pierre feels vindicated now, as if Charles’s success is proof that he didn’t need to worry so much back then, but he’s never asked. It doesn’t matter, anyway.
me @ me: Piarles in this AU would be INSANE
He’s thrilled beyond belief still, humming as Bryan fusses with the fucking chastity belt. He thinks about the rows of journalists waiting for him — they’ll be able to smell the sweet scent of an omega who’s just about dripping for a good fuck. Seb was infamous for it, back in the day.
Seb haunting the narrative. He was not having a good time back in the day (or ever) but he wanted very hard to have people THINK he was <3
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me getting to the end of my own fic. hit by memories. yeah I sure did
THANK U AGAIN!!!! for asking I had so much fun making this post. Also AO3 tells me this fic has now a ratio of private/public bookmarks of 70/30 which makes me very happy too <3
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lostsyren · 4 hours ago
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ kildare killer
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{a/n: happy halloween! this was purely self indulgent but i hope you like it anyways! thanks for helping me with the suggestions of what rafe and sofia would dress up as! it helped a lot! this isn’t canon rafe, sofia and barry (since the writers decided to pretend barry doesn’t exist this season) but rather them from the world of my fic ‘ephemeral’ on ao3. if you haven’t read that, there will be a couple references you won’t get but it’s not important! anywhooo i hope u enjoy!}
{summary: rafe and sofia decide to spend halloween at barry’s trailer, where spookiness ensues}
⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾
It was Halloween in the Outer Banks and Sofia wanted to dress up, much to Rafe’s dismay. He’d let her choose the costume (after he’d suggested her be a playboy bunny and him be Hugh Hefner to which she slapped him across the arm), so she finally settled on Romeo and Juliet from the 1996 movie.
Descending from the swirling staircase at Tannyhill, Sofia hitched her flowing white dress up, her straightened hair falling just past her décolleté, feathery angel wings adorning her shoulder blades and her face shimmering with silvery glitter.
Rafe had put to use the suit of armour gathering dust in the hall, wearing the arm plates and chain mail along with his jeans and regular sneakers. He waited by the door for Sofia to get ready, impatiently tapping his foot feeling stupid in the costume. It was Halloween. That meant parties, drinking, getting wasted– not looking like a lanky tin man.
They were meant to be heading to Topper’s for his (in his own words) legendary Halloween rager. But Rafe wanted to stop by Barry’s first (he’d promised Kelce some weed). Although with the way Sofia was taking her time, maybe he’d have to skip the trip.
“Sof! How long you gonna be?” He called, swivelling around, his words cut short when he saw her float down the mahogany steps like a literal angel.
“Sorry! Had a bit of trouble getting the wings on.” She apologised, nearing him with a resplendent smile. Rafe just about managed to stop his jaw dropping.
“Wow…you look…beautiful.”
Sofia’s face lit up with joy, casting her in an even more heavenly glow.
“You don’t look too bad yourself Romeo.” She teased, nudging him gently. “It’s still crazy to me you just had a suit of armour just lying around– that’s like the kookiest thing I’ve ever heard of.”
“Oh shut up and come on, we’re already late.” Rafe wanted to throw an arm around her but the angel wings were in the way, so he opted to just slide a hand around her waist.
“You don’t mind if we make a stop at Barry’s do you?” He asked as they got into the car.
“Oh please, I don’t even want to go to Topper’s party, I just wanted a reason to dress up. And besides, I haven’t seen Barry in ages, I miss him.”
Rafe grumbled in the drivers seat, the annoyance at Sofia and Barry’s little friendship returning.
She just laughed, finding it funny to rile him up. “Rafe come on, you’re friends so why can I be his friend too?”
“You’re my friend– not his.”
“Oh so we’re friends now?”
“You’re not acting very angelic you know?”
“And you’re not acting very chivalrous.”
The continued to bicker playfully as they drove down to Barry’s trailer, Rafe’s eyes continually straying from the road just so he could see Sofia gleam in the half-darkness in the car, looking like a seraphic vision of beauty. On second thoughts, he didn’t mind the costume after all.
⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾
Sofia stepped out the car, the long grass ticking her feet, the sandals she was wearing not suitable for the switchgrass and weeds.
It was a strange feeling being back in the same place she was nearly kidnapped in, but oddly nostalgic too. There was something intoxicating about the warm light flooding out of Barry’s trailer, the smell of the sweet vernal grass faint in the air and the steady hum of the breeze and chirp of the crickets that evoked a stirring in her heart.
But this time there was the added smell of smoke, crackle of embers, and a heady glow emanating from behind Barry’s trailer that wasn’t there before.
Rafe and Sofia followed the floating ashes, to see Barry lounging in a lawn chair. He was nursing a fire that rose from an old steel drum, the ribbons from the joint he was smoking mixing with the thick plumes from the flames.
“Country club and Dora!” He yelled as a greeting, getting up out of the chair. Sofia rolled her eyes playfully at his nickname for her, poking fun at her inquisitive nature. Barry’s face grew in his signature smirk, golden tooth flashing in the firelight.
“Hey Barry,” Sofia smiled, as he grabbed her hand and held it up in the air, swirling her around in circle.
“Dora all dolled up huh?” She laughed as he wolf whistled, Rafe once again bristling in annoyance beside them.
“Ok ok that’s enough,” he tugged at Sofia’s wrist possessively.
“Romeo and Juliet huh? Didn’t know you were into Shakespeare Rafe?” Barry mused, as he bumped fists with him.
“It was Sofia’s idea.”
“I figured– so what can I do for y’all today? On this ol’ hallows eve? Got someone after you again?”
Rafe shifted his weight on to the other foot, gaze furtive and snappy, “no just, you know…”
Sofia eyed the two of them as they exchanged a silent passing of glances, clearly not saying whatever it is they wanted to say because of her presence.
She rolled her eyes, staring a her boyfriend with a disparaging expression. “Rafe I swear to god, if you’ve come here to for drugs I’m not going to that party.”
He groaned exasperatedly, annoyed she caught on as if he wasn’t being entirely unsubtle in front of her just now. “Fuck, look Kelce just wanted some weed ok.”
“No Rafe, tell him to get it himself. You’re not gonna act like some seedy dealer– no offence Barry.”
“None taken,” he held his hands up, smirking slightly as he watched the two of them argue, acting like it was prime reality TV.
Sofia crossed her arms, mouth thinning, “fine, if you do, I’m not going with you then,” she said, her ultimatum making Rafe cock his head to the side.
“Oh yeah? Where are you gonna go instead huh?”
“I’ll stay here with Barry. You don’t mind do you?” She asked, glancing over at him.
“Of course not– mi casa es tu casa.”
“What the fuck Barry help me out here.”
“Don’t look at me dawg– I’m just Switzerland.”
“Fine, we’ll both stay here, you happy now Sofia?”
“Very.” She huffed. Barry just continue to chuckle softly to himself, as Rafe dragged out two extra seats for them, and despite being angry, he still unfolded and set out the lawn chair for her.
The three of them sat in the cold October air, grateful for the crackling fire before them.
“You cold?” Rafe asked her, his suit of armour flickering like burning gold in the aureate light.
Sofia couldn’t stay mad at him for long, “I’m ok.”
“Well this feels very juvenile, campfire on Halloween? We just need some marshmallows.” Barry snickered.
“Or some beer.” Rafe grumbled.
“Sofia why don’t you go inside and get the six pack, then you can grab whatever you wanna drink from the fridge alright?” Barry suggested, knowing she didn’t like the taste of beer.
“Yeah ok.” So she got up, walking around to the trailer door, unable to make out what Rafe and Barry where whispering about as soon as she left– probably something illegal and unsavoury, she thought with a bitter scoff.
She returned a couple minutes later, handing over the pack to Barry, settling down in her seat between them, grateful for the circle of warmth. Perhaps wearing a skimpy dress in the middle of autumn wasn’t the best idea.
“So what were you both conspiring about?” She asked, opening her can with a soft hiss.
“Barry was just talking about the story of the Kildare Killer.” Rafe said with a nonchalant sip of his beer, eyes gleaming in the firelight.
“The what?”
Barry’s eyes shot up dramatically, “you don’t know about the Kildare Killer?”
“No…should I? I don’t like the sound of it.” Sofia also didn’t like the way Barry and Rafe had become solemn, their visage cast in fire and darkness, shadows stretching and straining across the planes and slopes of their faces.
“I keep forgetting you’re not from around here Dora…why don’t I let Rafe here begin the story– he loves true crime.” Barry goaded, to which Rafe responded with a dismissive middle finger.
“Rafe tell me,” She said, curiousity piqued, ignoring Barry’s teasing.
Rafe nodded slowly, licking his beer stained lips, “ok then, the story starts back in 1985–there was a drought that lasted all summer– the grass was all dead, the tanks all dried up; it was the hottest summer in North Carolina history. Well, small island like this, people left their windows wide open as they slept, tryna let in the cool night breeze.” Rafe explained Sofia nodding eagerly.
“Well one night, super dry, kinda like this one– the police were called. The cop cars pull up to the house– you can still visit it today actually, it’s not too far from here– and they hear screaming, the blood curdling type. The officers approach, scared shitless. it’s a small town, nothing bad ever happens, but in that moment, hearing that scream, they thought the worst.”
Barry, who’d been quietly listen to Rafe cleared his throat, “well the cops finally entered the house.”
Sofia turned to face him, listening intently.
“They notice nothin’ outta the ordinary, but then hear someone weepin’…they follow the cries down to the bedroom and see two girls, still dressed in their nightgowns being clutched by their mother, who’s cryin’ over them.”
Barry’s voice was low and raspy, Sofia having to lean in close so she could hear.
“It takes a while for the cops to notice, the room still dark, but they quickly realise the girls aren’t just sleepin’– they’re dead, their nightgowns covered in blood.”
Sofia’s eyes were like saucers completely entranced by the story.
“Turns out a patient from the metal asylum on the mainland escaped on the ferry to Kildare. He killed six girls that night, climbin’ in through their bedroom window and slitting their pretty throats. He got the death penalty, fryin’ in that chair on Halloween night. The legend round these parts goes that sometimes on all hallows eve, the Kildare Killer’s spirit comes back to haunt the islanders…he scours the streets, lookin’ for pretty girls in white dresses to make his seventh victim, waitin’ to come up behind and slit their throat.”
Barry smiled evilly, taking a swig of beer, eyeing Sofia who’s thus far been wholly transfixed on the story.
The goosebumps that splayed across Sofia’s skin faded away, rolling her eyes in disbelief, “you’re such a liar, stop trying to freak me out– that did not happen–“
She suddenly felt two large hands grip her sides, shaking her erratically, a bellowing yell “boo!” coming from behind her. Her nerves were already shot through from the boys’ stupid story, so a screeching scream instinctively spilled out her mouth as her body shuddered in terror. She nearly toppled out of her chair from the jump scare.
“Rafe!” She yelled, “that’s not funny!”
But Barry and Rafe clearly thought otherwise, erupting into a fit of laughter as Sofia was left reeling in the lawn chair, her heart beat wavering uncontrollably.
“Shittt Dora, you shoulda’ seen your face,” Barry grinned, laughing so hard he began tearing up.
Rafe’s arms wrapped around her bringing her into him, “sorry baby, we couldn’t help it.” He apologised with an impish grin, as Sofia tried to pry his hands off of her.
“Pinche pendejos,” she cursed, finally letting a small smile creep up on her.
Rafe shook her gently, his forearm hooked around her neck and face pressed against her own, with a honeyed laugh. Sofia’s hands trailed up to meet his, whilst Barry continued to chuckle, looking relieved that Sofia found it funny.
The three of them continued to laugh and talk late into the night, their faces illuminated by the ever burning fire as grey ropes of smoke swirled into the star peppered sky.
Eventually it got late enough that Sofia began to yawn, her eyelids growing heavy.
“You knockin’ out there Sofia?” Barry said, rolling up another joint with his soot stained fingers.
Rafe glanced over at his girl, curled up in the lawn chair, droopy face resting on her hand.
“Sof? You good?” He asked.
She blinked open her eyes, giving Rafe a dopey smile, “all good.”
“Yall can sleep over if you want, if you’re too drunk to drive.” Barry offered, lighting up his rolled paper with the flames from the fire.
“You sure Barry?” Sofia asked, not wanting to impose.
“Of course Dora, spare bedroom’s still yours.”
So that’s what they did. Rafe stripped out of his chain mail and armour, leaving it in the trunk of the car, in bed with just his T-shirt and jeans whilst Sofia slipped out of her angel wings, ready to just collapse right there with him.
Barry disappeared into his room a while ago, probably knocked out too– it was late after all, nearing midnight and they were all drunk and exhausted.
Sofia wrapped her sweater around herself, that she got from the car, pattering into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. The trailer was dark, only a solitary lamp left on, drenching the walls in a dull, orange glow. Sofia manoeuvred through the gloom and filled up a cup with water, eyes glossing over the window above the sink.
She was about to turn around and retreat back into the bedroom when she saw something move outside the kitchen window, a blur of darkness, like a shadow puppet flashing across the glass. Sofia froze, eyes glued on the screen, waiting to confirm what she saw. But the night was now still, everything unmoving. Sofia levelled her breathing, about to scurry back into the room to tell Rafe– he could go out and check– when a scraping sound rattled through the trailer as if someone was running their nails across the metal exterior.
“I swear to god guys stop messing around,” she called out, trying to sound intimidating. But if Rafe and Barry were in their rooms…who was outside?
The sound of the scratching began to get progressively louder, sending chills slithering down Sofia’s spine. She thought of that stupid story they told her earlier. It was Halloween night and she was still in a white dress…her heart froze in her chest as she attempted to level her breaths. At least the window was shut.
“Rafe,” she called out, his name coming out in a shaky warble. But he didn’t reply. Sofia set down her glass of water, about to dash back into the bedroom, when suddenly a hand slammed against the window, ghost-white palm splayed across the the grimy glass, the sound knocking the air out if her lungs. Sofia gasped as if a frigid wave of water had submerged her insides, her terror only increasing tenfold when the door to the trailer slammed open, too quick for her to turn to face the intruder. Before she knew it, their arms wrapped around her waist, a shrill scream of horror hurtling out of her oesophagus.
“Happy Halloween!” Her assailant whispered in her ear, Sofia turning around to see Rafe’s imposing figure envelope her completely.
“You’re such a jerk!” She cried out, untangling herself out of his caging grip. Barry followed his lead, entering the trailer a moment after.
“Shit Dora, you real jumpy aren’t you?”
“Yeah because of you two idiots,” she grumbled as Rafe draped an arm over her frame, Barry knocking a playful fist on her shoulder.
“Oh come on, you know you love us.” Rafe smiled, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead, as Barry continued to wheeze with laughter.
Sofia pushed passed the two of them, heading into the bedroom, “that’s it, next Halloween I’m saying at home.”
⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾
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buttercupshands · 6 months ago
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So... Ch 423 spoilers huh...?
Just read them... since, yeah, they just appeared and stuff
I... don't really have much to say other than.... I guess this is over? The battle, the arc... basically everything?
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I'm... glad that it is, since it was really slow from all of the breaks, but at the same time it's... a little sad, or, actually, just... nothing
I think it's time to... reflect on... whatever happened in this arc or just in general, so... a personal story tie ig
I've been following mha for almost 5 years since I first watched and read it as my first "real" anime and have been following stuff ever since ch 240-241 came out and I caught up with manga, so it was pretty obvious what characters were the most interesting ones
Ever since the volumes became available to buy in 2019 I've been collecting them all up to the very recent ones and it was fun to do even if calculating how to buy them was a challenge for 'I just graduated high school' kind of person. But it was worth it every time with how LoV appeared basically in every single volume since they used 2-in-1 way of publishing so since LoV appears ever so briefly sometimes every 2 volumes it was a win-win situation
I took a break from buying them last year after the exams and stuff and after chapters of Toga's death came out I just took a break from mha in general, focusing more on other stuff like hsr, genshin or just my life while helping with stuff
I still followed the spoilers every week they came out just to see how Horikoshi wants to end the LoV story or at least how would Izuku fight Tomura in the end
And... it's the last chapter of that. After 2 years since the Final arc started and a year since Tomura actually started fighting Izuku inst
It feels right in a way, even if I'm a bit sad how... this is it? AFO just dropped info in ch 419 for it to be irrelevant in the end just for AFO to have control for 4 chapters and Tomura yelling to say that he's still alive in there
It was odd to actually read the spoilers one by one this time since I sometimes wake up too late so I just go through them quickly and that's it
I wondered halfway into the chapter that Tomura would just die soon but I didn't expect it to happen this chapter even more so at the end of it
It's... really is over now?
Defeating LoV was literally just finding a way for them to self-destruct instead of making Class 1-A be the ones who kill them showing that they're still good in the end. It's not like I'm complaining - it's the way I wanted them to be defeated because them staying alive in the end felt unfair, especially when fans were the ones who wanted it. Just leaving them in Tartarus for a way to say that Izuku can't save villains or changing the story so the LoV is left alone is not the way this manga would deal with it, I thought
And I was right in a way, even if it took Toga's monologue to actually be more sure that this is where it's going
It felt too much like how Twice's death was done - without any regret from him
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Maybe it made me a bit... off from how other people wanted it to end with heroes "getting what they deserve" or something, but it would've stopped being MHA after something like that happened, especially in a final arc when all of the LoV (except maybe Compress who is not on the battlefield) is literally wearing death signs with Dabi being the most loud one with it - and we still haven't seen him have this "alright, goodbye" moment like Twice, Toga and Tomura now had
And I don't believe that Dabi will survive this arc - he's literally too far gone with his body less alive than before and with him living only to be angry at Endeavor I guess it's a matter of time we get a goodbye from him too
With how this chapter handled it it seems that Spinner might survive this arc after all, but again - it makes it all the more sad since Horikoshi did remind us that Tomura befriended Spinner, in a way making it... a bit sad that it means that Tomura didn't expect others to make it or at least since they were more focused on their own goals Spinner was caring more for Tomura's goal than for himself.
Which is... even more sad considering that Tomura literally tells Izuku to say that he was destroying until the end instead of telling how Tomura lost everything and couldn't do anything anymore even before dying from basically decaying from the quirk that AFO gave him
And that's... Not dissapointing, no. It just makes me sad that his arc ended like that after all those chapters ever since he debuted 10 years ago.
Is you want it to be correct, since Horikoshi based Tomura off his oneshot about Tenko - it's been 17 years since the concept of his character first gained form and only now he's gone
Like... really gone. Nothing else left.
You can probably tell that I didn't take it well even if I wanted this ending to be this way not the "everyone survives way", but it still hurts to see the character that clicked ever since first watching and reading MHA and the character who is basically responsible for me even trying to check first the anime then wiki and then manga just... dying like that
Granted Kurogiri was the one who showed up in the end and I'm just glad for this because ever since ch 419 came out and even before that I just hoped for it to matter in some way and it did
I remember reading some fics that dealt with this arc in a way that was satisfying for me, but I still crried a lot and I still am crying now from thinking that Horikoshi did in fact give LoV a break instead of leaving them in jail.
I do need a break tho. Not in a "I leave and no more sketches or anything from me", no
I need a break from this manga, thankfully next volume isn't close so I'm free to not buy it right after that, especially since it's Toga's volume and I'm not ready to read it again but this time as "read every volume" way
I also can't leave Ultra Impact since I suddenly became a leader for a club I was in alone after everyone left, it's now full with 30 people appearing from s7 starting ig, but it gave me some responsibility to support the new players who decided that a weird club which name I can't even change from what last leader called it, so I might continue playing just to, at least, have all or the LoV characters fully leveled up just for fun
But in a way a need a break from Tomura. I had one or two when it was becoming unberable with how manga was going and with how things are... yeah
I have some sketches ideas but other than that... it's a bit hard to touch something LoV related right now.
I also don't think that doing something like this again is a way I want to cope with what happened - it happened and I already have two different posts about both how depressing and hopeful ch 419 is, and in the end both were true.
Nothing changed what happened in ch 419, Tomura just decided to destroy AFO when the plot wanted with Izuku and OFA together which is definetely something that people made theories of
He didn't get time to get at least something before he's gone and whatever happened with Nana was happened off-screen so we might as well see it as Tomura dying with his life never meaning anything, never actually having any purpose and only by helping to destroy AFO did he do at least something that helped others and was his own choice, but was it? Did he ever have a choice at all?
As it is now and will be for the end for MHA Tenko Shimura or Tomura Shigaraki never really had a choice in anything he did, not in a "I didn't have a choice!!!" dramatic way of how Nana Shimura left Kotaro. No. He didn't have any choices to choose from to begin with.
But with how Kurogiri still wanted to protect Tomura and reminded him of his friends at least it's not just the first part of the post that was right, in the end last words that Tomura said were connected to LoV and what he wanted to do for them, not that AFO was to blame for everything which is true still, but that LoV, even as broken as it is, is still a priority in Tomura's head after all this time of having AFO's quirk twist his mind and anything Tomura said outside of that headspace should've been carefully checked since it could've been AFO who's talking
It's not the ending for Tomura that people were hoping he'll get nor is it something that everyone will agree on, I can feel people arguing from here even if I didn't check Twitter or tags here on Tumblr to be sure. I don't need to.
So... those are my thoughts, a bit emotional in some places a bit chaotic in other, since my head is a mess right now and this was a way to say "this is it... are you happy?" to myself and answering it.
And the answer is no. I'm not happy. This arc, Tomura's personal arc and the way Izuku "helped" Tomura is still some of the worst things, even if I'm glad that this is over and I'm not obligated by myself to wait every week nervous that Tomura would suffer, and he did suffer, a lot.
From how his only way of getting his memory back was to suffer again to the fact that he had to suffer to get rid of his hate that AFO so carefully nurtured for 16 years. It wasn't great, especially since I joined after MVA was over and nothing after that was good to LoV getting worse every chapter from Twice dying and Toga learning that she'll probably die too, to Tomura never actually meeting LoV again as himself after he got AFO's quirk basically making him oblivious to the fact that Dabi is Toya or that Spinner followed what AFO wanted just to be useful, that Toga gave away her blood to save Ochako or that Dabi burned himself to death probably and Mr. Compress compressing parts of his own body. And the only person he saw before talking to Izuku was Kurogiri who was literally melting away at that very moment.
It's... a bit unfair.
Yes, villains lose at the end since we're reading a manga even if the manga itself isn't sure if it wants to go "no this is REAL" or go the way every shonen goes with the main character getting what they want. LoV lost at the end just because the manga needed them to lose, even if the way it was shown wasn't disrespectful to their character arcs, all of them making sense in the end.
It's still unfair that their only choice was to die and in a way bring everyone with them if they can, it was the way Dabi almost did it, it was the way both Toga and Tomura did, only for their respective Heroes - Shouto (and Todoroki family as whole), Ochako and Izuku being saved from dying from something that would've worked ONLY there and then. While the villains are not in the My Villain Academia version of manga anymore, so they don't have a way to survive anything like they did in MVA. For Toga, Twice and Tomura it was the only way to survive, if they weren't the main characters of that arc they would've died.
So, in the end it's miracle that we even had that arc in the first place with how Horikoshi wasn't planning for the villains to become the sympathetic characters for the fans - they were supposed to be just scary, and it's clear when you read stuff before volume 23 comes with MVA - they were always just evil and scary without any hope for us to get something out of it. You may say that the chapter with Toga helping Twice and having Tomura talk to them after the conversation with Overhaul was the first sign of Horikoshi not just showing them as those evil villains, and in a way it's true.
Nothing from before that arc actually helped LoV aside from showing some poins of "Dabi might me Toya" or first points of AFO and Tomura talking face to face. In the end everything important was in Overhaul arc and MVA tightly connected to each other.
I'm glad that for the 5 years of my life I've been analysing LoV and took my time getting every volume, I'll still hold them dearly. But aside from couple of chapters at the end showing us what happened to others... it's really the end of it.
With how long this post is I don't expect for people to read everything, since it was mostly just me talking about the new chapter for an hour and a half, sharing my thoughts, feelings and... whatever else there might be.
Because it was important thing in my life for a long enough time that I would miss it.
I can talk for hours more and just loop around this topic, but this is long enough post and I'm tired, but thanks for reading
I'm happy that this is over
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theflyingfeeling · 11 months ago
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fic talk in the tags 💝
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olymphianblood · 3 months ago
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ok guys its not funny anymore when is d&p hard lauching im starting to getting anxious /hj
#this is mostly in jest bc idk if they will and im okay with that they do what they feel comfortable and their life is none of my business#but if they plan to. can they do it faster. had a moment rewatching BIG where it got to me... wow... theyve had something REALLY special#for 15 years huh. dan is finally living his truth and a life happier than before but during this journey he had phil at a such important#point of his life. they endured so much. and probably fucked up in between bc we humans arent perfect and thats ok we make mistakes even if#they might hurt the person we love but hey. they persevered and now are thriving even more than before#and i got so emotional like... dudes... i want to tell you both thru the means where is possible for me that im so proud and so happy#for you both and you work and your journey and for experiencing pure queer joy that all queer people deserve#BUT LIKE AS MUCH AS ALL OF IT IS OBVIOUS AND SERIOUSLY DONT EVEN NEED A VERBAL CONFIRMATION ITS CLEARLY AS ITS PRESENTED#IDK I FEEL LIKE THEY HARDLAUNCHING WOULD GIVE LIKE. A SENSE OF PERMISSION FOR ME.#LIKE HEY WERE CHOOSING OURSELVES TO TELL YOU THIS INFORMATION ABOUT OUR PRIVATE LIFE#AND NOW YOURE FREE TO TALK ABOUT IT BECAUSE WE WANT TO HAVE A UPPERHAND ON THIS ON OUR PARASOCIAL RELATIONSHIP#SO ITS A BOUNDARY FOR US AND FOR YOU#AND ILL BE LIKE THANK YOU FOR THE PERMISSION. SO HAPPY FOR YOU MARRIAGE OF 15 YEARS#idk guys im weird i genuinely just like to treat celebrities like theyre just another human being i find while i go on about my day#it even took me a while to read phan rpf fics not bc i thought it was like OOOO PROBLEMATIQUE but bc i felt genuinely guilty even tho i#joined the phan bandwagon back in the day#i only let myself joke nowadays bc theyre more open and comfortable with it and such so like... i allowed myself for that and the jokes#but still. o|-< i get embarassed sometimes just bc theyve not publicaly disclosed what ARE they NOW (outside of all the soulmate metaphors)#its not a them problem tho its a me problem im too empathic for no reason#ANYWAYS SORRY FOR YAPPING ON THE TAGS CAN YOU TELL I MANAGED TO BUY MY ADHD MEDS AGAIN#j.txt
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ereborne · 8 months ago
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Song of the Day: February 26
“Diamonds in the Mud” by Gerry Cinnamon
#song of the day#another song off that same excellent concept playlist by losersimonriley#there's so many more Scottish bands added to my circulation now it's wonderful#this is a song specifically about Glasgow being his hometown so he uses more of his accent for it which I love#I've been pestering my brothers with accent and slang fun facts for a while now#more or less since the first time somebody had Soap use a particular Scottish saying in their CoD fic and made me go over all !!!!#'innsidh na geòidh as t'fhoghar e' translates to 'the geese will tell it in autumn' and reading that nearly made me explode#because when I was a small child and I asked my uncle too many 'why' questions he told me not to worry about it#that the geese would tell me next fall#amazing to me to find out decades later through Call of Duty fanfiction that that's an actual phrase#preserved for who knows how many generations between the first Scottish folks who must've brought it to Appalachia#and then eventually my Uncle Tommy who decided to use it to turn the aggravation tables around on a child#I'm thinking about that again now not just because it still blows my mind a little bit#(really truly had so firmly accepted it as just my Uncle Tommy trolling me with nonsense. it's such a thing he'd do)#but also because of a specific bit from the end of the song 'it's thirteen degrees and there's folk in the street in the scud'#that's just under 60F (a blissfully warm sunny day in Glasgow it seems) and 'in the scud' means 'naked'#which is also a thing I've almost heard from my family!#my aunts up the mountain and therefore also my father at times would say 'in the scuff' (my aunts with a little tilt to the vowel sound)#there was a sort of connotation of it being a silly or immature or maybe drunken sort of naked. an unimpressive naked at least#like 'Tommy fell into the muddy end of the pond trying to catch that damnfool heron' (this is a true story btw. take that Uncle Tommy)#'when he got back his wife made him take off all his clothin in the yard and hose down first. had to walk into his house in th scuff'#and then all the old ladies cackle about Tommy walkin through his door 'both heads hangin low' and my dad winces a little bit#it's important I share all these memories with my siblings now. most of the family's dead and gone and the boys don't remember#very fun for me to tell the stories now and see Nick do the exact same wince at the slightly mean-spirited dick commentary#just a little family legacy in action. thank you Gerry Cinnamon#(in the spirit of song-of-the-day though I will share my favorite line without the contextual boost of silly ereborne family stories:#'I know a guy who's a lightweight / one or two jars and he's buckled#he's the guy that loses keys / has to break into his ain house and gets huckled'#ungodly fun to sing and I do know several of this guy. not related to them though. my whole family drinks like fish)
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soulffles · 2 years ago
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i've been working on this au nonstop. i've poured my heart and soul into this piece, into the slow progression of andre and gigi's relationship, into all the star/constellation research, and i'm so so proud of it. i really hope you enjoy reading it just as much as i enjoyed writing it!
i even made a spotify playlist for the fic! check it out!
chapters: 1/2 fandom: inside job rating: 18+!!  warnings: no warnings ships: andre lee/gigi thompson, god i love kickass girlbosses and their dependable malewives summary: gigi tackles her first midlife crisis after getting laid-off from her cushy executive job. when she receives a new next-door neighbor and unwittingly enters an unfortunate cycle of embarrassing run-ins with him, she begins to believe her life is the ultimate practical joke. however, as time goes by, andre starts to fill a hole in gigi’s heart that she never knew was empty; the small, intimate moments between the two held in the palm of her hand like stardust, scattering across the galaxy the moment they crash into one other.
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ninjaaa-go · 1 year ago
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every once in a while it really just hits me how important representation is
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luuxxart · 1 year ago
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Are you still continuing the Earthbound fic? I loved the first chapter
oh gosh. Not to be obi wan kenobi on main but. That is not a name I have heard in a long time 🥺🥺🥺
Ok so like, I was, I really was going to continue it. And that fic is my baby. That’s like. My first born child. I was SO proud of it. So it wasn’t that I fell out of love w the series or I lost my passion for it bc . Gahhhh it was the best thing I’d come up w/ in a while. This is the fic
What happened was, the app I was writing on (My W Days bc, idk it was convenient at the time and I wasn’t really into google docs) decided that in the middle of the second chapter (I had literally written out the whole library scene where Ness gets the map and part of the Sharks stuff) it would just. Destroy half the file????? so I was like. Ok.
And I just. Never wanted to go back it made me so pissed. Left a bad taste in my mouth idk.
But idkkkkk I can’t say I won’t ever go back to it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i still have the whole fic scripted out I’m my notes and I go back and reread it sometimes lol it would’ve been 22 chapters fr
Seriously though thank you so much for having read and enjoyed the first chapter. I really wish I could’ve shared more with you 💕💕
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silent-sentinels · 3 months ago
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im trying my best here ok?? again i am not good at my job!
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arainesque · 5 months ago
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it is amazing i'm getting my name legally changed to Mr. Pillow Princess tomorrow actually 🤞 and my mind has been changed that last pic is SO perfect like the short hair and everything omg, but also thinking of blonde hair george... mmmmmmmmm
you and me BOTH!!!!
it's so hard, I genuinely base so much of my storylines (of which there's few, I genuinely always write all emotion no plot), off of George's hair. But The first thought I had was George's bleach blonde hair with the brunette roots?!?!???? it just came to me!??
BUT with quarantine it's just......soft....and there's more melodramatic drama???
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the-boy-meets-evil · 2 months ago
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building blocks | yjh
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(agreeing to be the teaching assistant is the last thing you want in a semester where you're already swamped with work. but, you need a letter of recommendation from the professor and you're out of other options. enter jeonghan, the menace who signs up for the class seemingly on a whim and disrupts your entire routine.)
pairing: master's student!jeonghan x TA!f!reader genre: university!au, strangers to loveres | fluff, minor angst, attempt at humor, smut rating: explicit, minors DNI word count: 19.7k (idk what to say atp) warnings: mentions of eating and drinking, jeonghan briefly drives a motorcycle, they're both engineering students but i don't claim to know engineering, the angst is minor because there's some miscommunication smut warnings: lots of kissing, hand job, fingering, slight voyeurism? (jeonghan watches reader finger herself), kind of loser!jeonghan, missionary sex, nothing really crazy all things considered
a/n: this is for the TA collab hosted by the amazing @camandemstudios. those two have been working so hard on this and i can't wait to read all the fics. but go easy on me because i know next to nothing about structural engineering. credit to @caelesjjk for this banner, it's so amazing 🥰 also thank you to everyone that helped me brainstorm along the way @ugh-yoongi @haologram @highvern and of course to @wqnwoos for letting me borrow her name.
note 2: this isn’t proofread. i had something come up irl and wanted to get it posted, so i’m sorry for any errors! i’ll come back to it next week when i have a minute.
(tag list at the end)
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Your entire academic (and professional, for that matter) career has been a battle. A fight to be taken seriously. A fight to get the right classes. A fight to make the right connections. A fight for every inch that you’ve gotten. There are times that you wonder if it’s all worth it, wonder if anything should be as hard as this. But, all you’ve ever wanted was to be an engineer. To be able to leave your mark in some sort of meaningful way, even if that’s also a little conceited. It’s all you want and you’re so close to getting some much needed room to breathe. 
Except…
You have to make it through one last semester of this damn Master’s program. You managed to find a sponsor to allow you to commit to a final semester full time, with only part time research work. That’ll put you in a good position to carry on for your PhD, with your dissertation topic already picked and funded. Things had been going entirely too smoothly, in hindsight. You should have known. Everything about your application to the upcoming program is perfect. Except for the final recommendation. And, of course, the professor to give that recommendation won’t just give it to you to recognize the years you’ve put into this. No. He implies that there’s something he needs from you.
Nothing really awful, in the grand scheme of things. Not for someone that does want to return as a lecturer at some point down the road. It’s just that you didn’t really want to be forced into a teaching assistant position for Professor Choi’s introductory structural engineering course. It’s the course that weeds out who’s actually going to carry on with the civil engineering branch of the Master’s program from those who may switch out to something that better suits them. Which, again, isn’t a huge deal, except that you remember how burnt out the TA looked from when you took the course and it’s the last thing you need during your final semester. It’s hard to know that some portion of your future hinges on doing this. It’s also hard to forget another friend of yours admitting Professor Choi had given him a recommendation without the hoops.
Whatever.
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger and all that. 
So you schedule your regular meetings with the professor, make a separate email folder for all course related communication, jot down the important dates, and figure out which lessons you have to help plan. First up is going to be the introductory class. Professor Choi comes in and introduces himself while you distribute the syllabus, an odd task when everything is available online through the portal, but he likes things in hard copy. Once he’s done his introduction, he leaves the rest of the first class to you, as he had with the TA in your course during your first semester. For a moment, you consider pointing out that this is a Master’s level course and you don’t really need to do the typical introductions. Most of these people have busy lives and, even though they’ll have to work together on projects, can manage without syllabus week. But, Choi is old school and you know it. You also need his letter, so what’s the point in trying to change his system? You’re not here to do anything other than fill a spot that he was having trouble filling, get your letter, and go. 
When you scan the roster before the first day, nobody particularly sticks out. There are a couple of relatively familiar names, though you’re not sure you can place faces to them, but most of the students seem to be in their first semester of the program. It only takes getting to the introductions for someone in the course to stick out, though.
“Well, I’ve always been good at building Legos. I figure, how different can it really be?” one student answers.
It takes everything in you to school your face back into a politely interested expression when the rest of the class bursts out laughing. Your initial reaction had been incredulity. Surely he couldn’t be serious. There’s no way someone just wandered into this program because he liked building Legos. The laughter from the rest of the class dies down and you keep your attention on him.
“Why did you really join the program?” you ask. That’s what every student was supposed to be sharing. A problem for this student, apparently.
“That is why I joined,” he says with an infuriating smirk. 
“What did you say your name was?” you ask.
“Jeonghan,” he answers without anything else.
You consult the roster in front of you and put a star by his name. This is someone you know you’re going to have to keep an eye on. 
“Did I get a star already?” he prompts, earning another few chuckles from his classmates.
“Something like that,” you say and then turn to the person next to him. “And why did you join?”
Nothing else grabs your attention during the remainder of the introductions. Several students volunteer what they’re hoping to get out of the program. One brave student says she’s heard that Professor Choi is tough before asking for your opinion. Although you give a neutral answer, you make a note to speak to her privately to address her (very valid) concerns. 
When it comes time for you to return to speaking about the rest of the semester, you expect Jeonghan to interrupt in some way. He gives the impression of someone that likes causing a little bit of chaos or bringing attention to himself. Instead, he simply listens, notes something down occasionally, and gazes at you so intently that you nearly feel yourself flush. It would be a lot easier to ignore him if he didn’t look like some kind of model, though. You catch yourself looking at him more than once when other students are sharing answers. His nearly black hair falls in longer layers around his face, not quite reaching his collar in the back. There’s something almost delicate about his nose, about all of his face, really. His features are soft in a sort of beautiful way. It’s only when he catches you looking that you shake any consideration of his features from your mind. 
Once there’s only a few minutes left, you dismiss the class with a reminder that your email is beneath Professor Choi’s on the syllabus and you’re always around to help them. This class, you share, can be daunting and you’re here to help them get through it in one piece. That part comes out genuine because you do mean it. None of these students are to blame for the position you’re in. It’s not their fault that they have a TA that doesn’t really want to be in the position. So, you’re not going to make them suffer. You’re going to help them just as the TA for your class helped you. You make a note to reach out to him and ask for some advice.
Jeonghan’s eyes linger on you as the other students get out of their seats and begin talking, mostly about what they’re most excited for in the coming semester. You have to break first and look down to collect some papers from the desk. It also helps to remind yourself this is the same student who said he joined the class because he likes Legos. Ridiculous. When you look back up at the class, you’re half expecting to see his attention is still on you. It’s not. He’s joined a few classmates and is leaving the room without a backward glance. 
Legos, you remind yourself, and return to gathering your things. 
The one good thing about all this is that it’s an evening course, designed for people that have to work during the day. When the class is over, you get to go straight home to eat dinner and meld into the couch with your roommate, who also happens to be your best friend. 
You: i’m tired, want me to pick up food on the way home?
Bestie boo: i already called in an order from that one place you like so you can pick it up on the way home 
You: wow who are you and what have you done with my best friend?
Bestie boo: i didn’t pay for it
You let out a snort because that’s exactly the friend you know and love. He has to cover up ordering your favorite food from your favorite restaurant, which is sweet, by reminding you he’s still a giant pain in the ass. The gesture is enough for you to ignore it and just let him have this win. Maybe you’re off your game, but you’re a little tired.
“You should watch where you’re going.” 
The comment nearly makes you jump out of your skin. Sure, you scare easily as it is. But it’s worse when the voice comes out of seemingly nowhere. Of course it’s Jeonghan from your class, leaning against the wall just outside the building. His eyes glint at your reaction, like he’s enjoying it. Maybe he is. A second later, he pushes off from the wall to come closer. 
“And you shouldn’t scare people like that,” you retort when your heart slows a bit. He’s looking at you conspiratorially. “Did you have a question from the class?” 
“No,” he answers easily. 
“So…” you start. 
“Do you memorize the faces of all your students so quickly?” he wonders, continuing when you give him an odd look. “Or am I special?” 
“You made an impression,” you say neutrally.
“A positive one?” he presses.
“I didn’t say that,” you counter.
“But, still, you remembered me. Unless you learn all your students' faces before class as TA duties,” he says.
You sigh and decide to give him a partial truth, one that’s less likely to bite you than admitting his face is one of the only ones you remember. “I haven’t been a TA before so I don’t have a manual for how I’m going to approach it.” 
“Happy I get to be your first, then,” he says and turns to walk away. He turns back over his shoulder with a wicked smile and calls, “see you next class!” 
Your mind is preoccupied all the way to the restaurant to pick up the food and all the way back to your apartment. It’s only been one day of class and you can already feel that this student is going to be a menace. Worse than that, he seems like he knows he’s getting under your skin and wants to press it even further. Realistically, you just have to get through any of the classes that you lead. Otherwise, he’ll be the professor’s issue. 
Seungkwan is waiting on the couch, aimlessly scrolling on his phone when you walk into the living room, takeout containers in hand. It’s relatively familiar, though you know that he also likes to be out whenever he can. A perpetual social butterfly. 
“Today was already fucking annoying,” you moan when you set the boxes down and flop onto the couch.
Seungkwan gives you a sympathetic look. “At least you’re one step closer to getting what you need from that idiot.”
You’re confused for a moment because you hadn’t been thinking of Professor Choi at all. “Oh, yeah, no. I wasn’t talking about Choi.” 
“What was the issue then?” Seungkwan asks as he leans forward to get his food.
“There’s this guy in the class and I don’t know. I can’t figure him out,” you offer. “He’s so annoying. Like who signs up for a structural engineering class just because he likes building Legos? And that smirk. Ugh. I hate him.”
“Sure sounds like it,” Seungkwan quips. 
“Fuck off, I do,” you double down. 
“What’s he look like? Is he cute?” he wonders.
“Does it matter?” you ask.
“No. You answered anyway,” Seungkwan says with a grin.
“Fine, yes he is attractive because for some reason I’ve been cursed. Why do all you annoying people in my life also have to be hot?” you whine, casting a look at your roommate.
“Did you just call me hot?” he barks through a laugh. 
“Fuck off, just pick a show. It’s your turn,” you say with a push on his arm. 
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You make it through the first few classes as a TA without much to report. Jeonghan tries your patience, but there’s not much he can do during the class and he doesn’t linger afterwards. That’s usually when Professor Choi wants to debrief on the course material and make sure the next class is ready. The class is also just starting to get into the real material and away from the foundational information. 
But, now the course is well and truly underway, which means you have to announce that you’ll be starting to hold your own office hours every week. Of course, Choi also has office hours and students could take advantage of those. Probably would, if not for the fact that he encourages the class to go to you first to try and resolve anything. Something about how he’s very busy and that’s why he has a TA. It’s exhausting and just another obstacle in getting what you need. 
After getting feedback from the class, you decide to set two different times for office hours, one during the late afternoon and one during the early evening to accommodate schedules. A few students show up right at the start of your first office hours session with similar concerns. So, you invite them in and start to work through a few practice problems to illustrate the point that they’re struggling to understand. It’s actually surprisingly easy to work in this way. You would never admit it to Professor Choi, but it’s actually kind of enjoyable. There’s value in helping someone understand a difficult concept. It’s also really rewarding to watch the comprehension dawn on the faces around you as each of them seems to grasp what you’re saying. 
Honestly, you can’t imagine your first office hours going any better when you’re already an hour into it and you’ve been working with the same three students. Of course, just as they’re gathering their things to head out, feeling more confident than when they showed up, Jeonghan appears in the doorway. He doesn’t even say anything at first, just looks around at the other students. They seem oblivious to what’s happening around them.
“Thanks again,” one student says as he’s standing up.
Another student catches sight of Jeonghan and she smiles. “Oh, sorry Jeonghan. We didn’t know you were having trouble with any of the concepts or we would have asked you to join us.” 
“That’s fine,” he says easily. “I was busy until just now anyway.” 
“Do you all feel confident with the topics? Or would you like to stay and go over something now that Jeonghan is here?” you ask, trying not to appear hopeful. (And failing at that pretty miserably.)
“Oh no, we’re definitely set. And we had plans,” the first student says with a look over at Jeonghan.
The three of them exchange goodbyes with Jeonghan and head out, allowing Jeonghan to close the door behind them before plopping into a seat at the table in your office. He’s directly across from you, which makes it hard to avoid his eyes. When you do meet his eye, though, he’s got a sneaky, all-knowing look on his face. You don’t like the loot of it one bit.
“What’s with the look?” you ask.
“What do you mean?” he retorts quickly.
“You’re making a face,” you say.
“Are you saying you don’t like my face?” Jeonghan asks, pretending to be offended. 
“Why are you here, Jeonghan?” you ask to switch tactics. 
“These are your office hours. I’m here to ask questions about the material,” he says. 
“You don’t need any help with the material so far. I’ve graded your problem sets and the answers have been perfect,” you admit. 
“Impressive, isn’t it?” he muses. 
“I’m not answering that. It brings me back to my question, though. If you don’t need help, why are you here?” you press.
“Why does it seem like you don’t like me?” he asks.
“I don’t have any feelings about you either way,” you deflect.
“Now, that’s not true,” he disagrees. 
“You’re determined to get under my skin,” you say, half as a joke. 
“Determined to figure you out,” he corrects. “It doesn’t seem like you’re all that excited about being a TA.”
“That’s because I was forced into it,” you blurt out and immediately clap a hand over your mouth. That’s the last thing you meant to say. “I didn’t mean…”
“Now we’re getting somewhere in this relationship,” he says, sitting back into his seat with a satisfied smile. 
You heave another heavy sigh, a common occurrence around this man. “Why are you so determined to figure me out? Why do you care how I feel about you?”
“Because everyone seems to like me right off the bat,” he says. 
“I can see why,” you deadpan. 
“So can I stay? Or do you have very important things to do?” he asks.
“It’s my office hours, so I’m here to help students until the two hours are up,” you admit.
“Perfect.”
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The next few times that you hold office hours feature Jeonghan showing up for the second half. It seems deliberate that he doesn’t show up right when they start, especially because you always have at least one other student in your office. If there’s another student there, he joins in to ask questions along with whoever else is there. When it’s just him, his questions are much more personal. It’s obvious that he wants to know you. Know your likes and dislikes, know the things that make you tick, know who you are when you’re not at school. Seems very convinced that the version of you outside the walls of the engineering building is very different from the one he sees. Jeonghan doesn’t seem to realize that he’s slowly getting more and more of a peek into who you really are. Thankfully, he doesn’t bring up your slip about being forced into being a TA. 
It doesn’t make it any easier to be around him.
It should. You should be able to get used to his particular brand of torture. Yet, with each new piece of information you learn, you unlock even more questions. It’s like you can’t ever really figure him out. Or maybe that he doesn’t want you to. He’s very careful to give vague answers about the serious things, while he goes on and on about the things that don’t matter. He’ll spend a solid five minutes talking about the latest Lego he’s building, but then breeze past the few questions you ask about him personally. It usually includes some sort of quip about how he’s wearing you down and how you clearly want to know him better. 
“Bet you thought you were escaping me today,” a voice says, startling you out of your thoughts. 
“Jesus Christ,” you gasp. Your heart beats a mile a minute as you look up to glare at the intruder. 
“No, Yoon Jeonghan. I can see the confusion, though,” he says and you sigh heavily. 
“Office hours are almost over,” you point out. 
“Not for 20 more minutes,” he counters. 
“Right, but I was in the middle of grading something,” you say, indicating the design plans in front of you. He glances over at them.
“Hm,” he says.
“What, Jeonghan?” you ask with exasperation.
“Just doesn’t look like mine is all,” he says and plops into the chair across from you.
“Well obviously,” you say. “Can’t exactly grade your project with you sitting here.” 
For some reason, that makes him break out into a wicked grin. “So you aren’t grading my assignment because you were hoping I’d show up.” 
Ah, yes. Now you see your mistake. Should have definitely seen that coming, too. “You’ve come to every other session. I wasn’t hoping you’d show up again, but it was a fair assumption that you might.” 
“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” he says placatingly.  “D’you have a question?” you ask. The tension headache you associate with Jeonghan’s presence in your life is threatening to make an appearance. 
“Nope,” he says, popping the last syllable. 
A notification on your phone stops you from responding to him and you unlock it immediately. It seems that Professor Choi needs to give you a stack of assignments and instead of just walking a few doors down the hall, he had to send a message. You drop your phone back on the desk with the message still open and take a calming breath. 
“Everything good?” Jeonghan asks with more care than you’re used to.
“Yeah, I’ll be right back. Have to go pick something up from Professor Choi’s office,” you say, already on your feet and heading towards the door. 
It only takes a minute or two for you to go and come back. For once, you’re thankful for Jeonghan because it gives you the ready-made excuse that you’re just wrapping up office hours with a student waiting for you to return. He doesn’t need to know that student hasn’t ever asked you a class related question without another student present. You’ll take the wins where you can get them. The pain in ass in question is still sitting exactly where he was when you left him. 
He looks up at you as you walk back in, set the folders on the corner of your desk, and sit back down. “You really hate Professor Choi.” 
“I didn’t say that,” you counter quickly. Probably too quickly. 
“You didn’t have to. Sometimes you have a really expressive face,” he comments and looks back down at his phone. 
“Only sometimes?” you wonder. Jeonghan looks back up to regard you.
“It’s always expressive, but you work a little harder to control it in class than you do outside of it,” he decides. “You mentioned something about being forced into this. Why be a TA if you hate it?” 
“I don’t actually hate being a TA,” you clarify. He seems to accept this at face value. “It’s just…I didn’t…no. Why am I doing this with you?”
“Because I’m asking?” he offers. 
“I had never considered being a TA. I wasn’t opposed to it, I just hadn’t really fit it into my schedule. It has been a lot of fun, though,” you say. It’s the first time you’ve noticed how much attention Jeonghan gives you. The way his eyes are on you and it seems like he tunes out any other distractions. 
“How did you end up here, then?” he asks. Any teasing or lightness is gone from his tone. 
“Please don’t make me regret giving you the honest answer,” you say warily. “But, I’m applying for my PhD program. I have everything that I need…except for a final letter of recommendation.”
“Oh, you’re joking,” he says and actually does look offended on your behalf. “He’s making you TA for him in exchange for the letter? That’s why you said you were forced into it?”
“Yup,” you respond, popping the end of the word like he had done earlier.. 
“Well, that’s definitely shitty but I’m still counting myself lucky that you ended up with this class,” he says.
“I can’t figure you out,” you admit. 
“I know.” 
That should be annoying, the way he says that he knows you can’t figure him out. It’s like he’s not even trying to hide that he’s making it difficult to get to know him. Yet, he’s not making it a secret that he wants to get to know you better. There’s just something about him that prompts you to share things you wouldn’t with anyone else. No, that’s dramatic. It’s just easier to share with him than it usually is with someone else that you barely know. 
Despite asking again if Jeonghan has any questions, he insists that he’s fine with just sitting there to keep you company while you have to wait to see if any student comes by in the last minutes of your office hours. For a change, he doesn’t ask any personal questions. Doesn’t try to press you into admitting things that you usually wouldn’t. He just takes out his laptop to make it look like you’re actually helping him in the event that anyone checks in on you. 
Nobody does. The last few minutes pass quickly with you returning to grading the assignment you had been working on. The two of you gather up your things in relative silence and Jeonghan walks with you out to your car so that you can head home. You’re expecting something else or something different, but that’s all there is. Just a walk to your car, a smile with a goodbye, and him heading off in another direction. It’s somehow the strangest and most normal interaction you’ve had with him. It makes you pause to wonder if this is the real version of him. A little quiet, a little reserved. Not being a menace to anything and anyone in his path.
It’s not until you’re back home, sitting on the couch with a glass of wine while watching some variety show with Seungkwan that you realize it wasn’t quite the normal interaction you thought it was. 
Jeonghan: i appreciated you telling me the truth about the class today
The message lights up your screen and all you can do is stare at it without being able to believe it. How are you getting a message from Jeonghan with his contact information saved? You’re racking your brain trying to figure out if you gave him your number, or saved his, and just didn’t remember. 
“What’s with your face?” Seungkwan asks.
“Wow, that was nice,” you retort.
He looks over at your phone where the notification still shows a message from Jeonghan. “Finally gave him your number, huh?”
“No, I -” you start when another message comes in.
Jeonghan: you left your phone unlocked when you went to Choi’s office and I figured it was time for us to exchange numbers
Seungkwan, now more invested in your messages than in the show in the background, lets out a low whistle of appreciation. “Wow, he’s good. I see why you like him.”
“I don’t like him, Kwan,” you sigh.
“Sure,” he says dismissively. 
As if to prove something, you make a show of moving your phone over to the end table and turning it over. Seungkwan gives you a Look that plainly says he’s not buying whatever it is you’re trying to sell. Otherwise, he lets you go back to the show that you’re watching without bringing it up again. 
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The text thread with Jeonghan seems to haunt you every time you open your messages, at least until there are enough conversations to push it out of your view. Surprisingly, you don’t get any more texts from him when you don’t answer. He also doesn’t show up to your next office hours, which is a bit odd to you. And you can’t vent to Seungkwan about it because he’s still very convinced that it’s only a matter of time before you end up sleeping with Jeonghan. Ridiculous, honestly. Like you would waste your time on someone you’re not even sure you like. 
That carries you through to your next class. It’s a slightly more complicated lecture that Choi does every semester to try and scare students off this path. He claims it’s so that everyone knows what they would be getting into. You suspect that it’s his way of reminding everyone just how smart he is. Not exactly the most flattering trait, but you suppose that he probably doesn’t care about that. Doesn’t need to. He’s been teaching so long that his job is guaranteed at this point. 
The good thing, though, about knowing Choi won’t need you during the entirety of the class is that you get to just sit at the back of the class and do some work. It gives you the chance to get through grading some of the assignments for the class without having to take time away from something else. Let’s you get absorbed into that to tune out the grating sound of Choi’s monotonous voice as he tries his best to warn students off the path. You’re so absorbed that you don’t notice the way that Jeonghan periodically glances over his shoulder to where you’re sitting, trying to catch your attention even for a moment. 
When the class comes to an end, you make your way up to the front as you would any other time. It’s a little irritating to have to check if there’s anything Professor Choi needs like you’re his personal assistant, but you’re also resigned. What you’re not prepared for, though, is that he calls Jeonghan up to the front of the room.
“Yes, Professor?” he says with so much respect and deference that it almost feels real, if you didn’t know how he feels. One of the only personal things you actually know about this mystery of a man.. 
“I really enjoyed your proposal for the final project using Legos,” Choi starts. “Every few semesters, I get someone that seems to think being good at using plastic building blocks means they’d make a good engineer. But, you’ve actually been doing wonderfully in the class. So, I want you to work with my TA here to refine the idea a little bit. I don’t think you’re meeting your full potential with it yet.” 
“Oh, well Professor Choi…” you start and he waves a hand. 
“Surely it isn’t a problem to help foster the best student in my class, is it?” he challenges.
“No, of course not,” you concede. 
Professor Choi wears a triumphant smile. “Good. I’ll leave the two of you to coordinate your schedules. See you next class, Mr. Yoon.” 
The formality of calling students by their family names nearly makes you roll your eyes. It’s only when you note the glint in Jeonghan’s eyes that you catch yourself. The two of you say your goodbyes and a silence settles in Choi’s absence.
“Should I just stop by your office hours tomorrow?” he asks when it’s clear you aren’t going to say anything. 
“Sure, that works,” you say. “You stop by most of them anyway.” 
“Does it bother you that I do?” he asks, a note of something you can’t detect in his tone. Maybe vulnerability. 
That makes you soften. “No, of course not.”
“I can back off if it’s making you uncomfortable,” he says with a forced smile. “Maybe it was too much adding my number to your phone.” 
“We can talk about boundaries when I see you during office hours tomorrow,” you joke. At least it seems to bring a real smile back to his face. 
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In a strange turn of events, Jeonghan shows up to your office hours only two minutes after they start. You haven’t even gotten yourself fully unpacked because you weren’t expecting him to show up at the beginning. Not when he seems to show up in the latter half every other time. 
The differences continue as you settle into the work the professor assigned the two of you. Jeonghan pulls out his proposal, something you hadn’t actually seen yet, and talks you through his ideas. His idea had been to submit a design for a brand new structure built to scale entirely using Legos. It’s ambitious in a way because the blocks only come in certain shapes and sizes. You can’t just cut something down to fit the size that you need. It requires a good amount of forethought. But, for someone like Jeonghan who’s taken to the course like a fish to water, it doesn’t seem like it’s quite enough. You can see why the professor asked you to help him work through it a little bit more. It needs to be fleshed out a little further. 
As the two of you go back and forth with ideas about how to give it an element that makes it more impressive, you’re stuck by how easy it is to work side-by-side with him. How well the two of you work together. It’s like every visit before this has been building up to the level of comfort you have now, even if you’re still pretending that you don’t really know him. Maybe you don’t, though. It’s not like he ever gives you real answers to your questions.
“Why Legos?” you ask as the two of you are feeling stuck on where to go to expand on the proposal. 
“Because it’s funny to see how annoyed you get when I bring it up, so I figured it would be funny to imagine you grading my final project that has to do with Legos,” he says with that same look.
“Be serious for once, Jeonghan,” you sigh. “I’m trying to help you with this. It’s the least you could do.” 
“Sorry,” he says after a moment and shifts in his seat. “It’s, well, it’s just always been the way that I zone out and reset. At first, it was just when I needed a break from dealing with people because I had to focus on the instructions. Then, I started to think about how impressive it was that they were able to form these insane shapes with building blocks. Then, it started to get more elaborate with me testing out what worked and what didn’t when I built my own designs.” 
It’s one of the first truly real and truly honest things he’s said to you. Not hiding behind a joke or brushing off an answer. It’s just him and you feel like that one response helps you know him better than all the hours he’s spent in your office up until that point. It also helps you realize what the proposal was missing in the first place: something personal from him. 
Ultimately, what is going to make this project stand out is something that makes it personal. A structural engineer doesn’t really need to design a building or a bridge or any other structure. They do need to design and analyze any of the support systems, though, which can be a dull job at times. Adding something more human will make it stand out. So, you suggest that Jeonghan take it a step further than just modeling a structural support system from Legos. You suggest that he set it up almost like instructions for an established set. But, instead of simple drawings to make it step by step, you suggest that he include little snippets about his previous experiences with using Legos, how he tests it to make sure he structure will hold, and any calculations he does for load capacity and gravity. 
Initially, he seems a little unsure. It’s easy to see that talking about things that are more personal to him, especially for a final project, is uncomfortable. After a lot of reassurances that nobody but you and Professor Choi will see it if he doesn’t want them to, he finally agrees that it’s a good idea. It does seem like he’s at least excited about the prospect now, though. 
While he’s rewriting his proposal to submit to the professor, you get back to what you had planned to do during the first part of your office hours before he showed up: grading assignments. Once again, his isn’t on the stack to be graded. Out of habit, you always grade his first and some time when he’s guaranteed to not be around. It’s oddly comfortable to work like this, grading papers while he types away on his laptop across from you. 
Once he gets through typing up a new proposal, he asks if you would be willing to read it over. You’re just about to suggest that he email it to you, when he just hands his laptop over. Seems unconcerned about having you his laptop. Although he watches you carefully as your eyes scan through the words, it feels like his only concern is what you think about it. Which doesn’t need to be a concern at all. It’s perfect, as far as you’re concerned. 
You tell him as much when you look up with a smile. “I love it.”
“Don’t be nice to me now,” he says nervously as you hand the laptop back over. 
“What?” you ask. 
“You don’t need to spare my feelings now when you’ve been ignoring my texts,” he says like he’s trying to protect himself. 
“So much to unpack there and we’ll return to the texts,” you say, a little exasperated. “But, I’m not being nice about the proposal. It’s perfect and I genuinely can’t find a single thing I’d change. Choi’s going to love it.” 
“Ah, well, he was right in getting your help. I wouldn’t have gotten here on my own,” he admits and it does actually make you smile again. 
“Still your idea,” you say to encourage him.
“Thank you, I appreciate it,” he says and you know it’s the real him for a moment. 
“Okay, but back to the texting,” you say to shift.
“The boundaries chat, wonderful,” Jeonghan says, returning to his previous mask of being a menace. 
“You really shouldn’t be going through a stranger’s phone and adding your number,” you chastise. 
“We’re not strangers though, are we?” he challenges. “And I didn’t go through your phone.”
“No?” you ask with an eyebrow raised.
“Your phone was still lit up when you left so I called myself quickly and then created a new contact, and then locked your phone and put it back,” he says like it’s the most normal sentence in the world.
“That’s insane?” you state with a level of shock.
“I really wasn’t trying to cross some sort of line,” he admits with a shocking level of sincerity. “I just really like getting to know you and I figured you’d feel weird about giving a student in your class your number, even though you’re still a student as well. So, I just wanted to make it easier. If you don’t want me to have it, you can delete it right out of my phone.”
Jeonghan holds his unlocked phone out to you and it’s open to your contact. For some insane reason, you do actually believe what he said. It’s easy to see how he might want to befriend you and be hesitant on how to do that. He strikes you as the kind of person that can put on a mask of liking to be social, but really would much rather be at home or in a small setting like in your office with you. And you do actually enjoy having him around, even if you keep trying to pretend that he’s basically a stranger to you. He’s not wrong, either. You would have felt weird about exchanging numbers with him. You’ll never admit that to him. 
He must see the hesitation on your face because he retracts his hand. Waits for you to say something, though. “I guess it’s not the worst thing that you have my number.” 
“That’s almost a positive,” he jokes. “You could give a guy false hope that you actually might be starting to like me.”
“Oh, now I wouldn’t go that far,” you quickly tack on. “Wouldn’t want you to get a big head.”
“Have you seen the grades I’m getting? I already know I’m doing something right,” he brags. 
“I have seen your grades since I’m usually the one grading them,” you remind him. “So, I have to balance it out.”
“You just wanna break my heart over and over again,” he whines.
“You’ll survive,” you deadpan. 
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Everything seems to carry on as it always does. You have to make sure you’re keeping up with all of your actual classes for your degree. Grade assignments when Professor Choi hands them off to you. Give feedback on the upcoming topics. Most importantly, you find  plenty of time to disengage from all the hustle of classes. To enjoy time with friends where you can let your brain just wander onto things that don’t matter nearly as much. 
Even though you don’t ever text Jeonghan first, it doesn’t seem deterred because you do always answer the messages that he sends to you. Some of them are idle thoughts throughout the day. Others are questions that he wants answers to and seems to think he’s more likely to get them over text than during the hours he spends in your office. Your favorites, though, are when he texts you some wildly out of pocket statement and then gets you to debate him on it because it’s always something completely inane. Something meaningless. It gets you so fired up, though. 
“He’s so infuriating,” you complain as you forcely set your phone down on the couch next to you. 
“I’m guessing we’re talking about Jeonghan,” Seungkwan says from his position on the other end of the couch.
“Why would you immediately jump to Jeonghan?” you ask. 
“Bestie, we haven’t talked about anyone else but Jeonghan all semester,” he says. You fling a pillow at your roommate.
“First, you’re being dramatic. And second, yes I talk about him a lot. He’s infuriating,” you say.
“Whatever you say,” Seungkwan says dismissively.
“I might hate him,” you say.
“They say hate sex is the best sex,” he says without taking his eyes off his phone.
“And they say killing your nosey roommate isn’t actually a crime,” you retort. 
Seungkwan looks up at you and smiles. “Let’s do it baby. I know the law.” 
“You’ve been spending too much time around Vernon,” you scoff. 
“Maybe, but if you kill me, who’s going to lend their ear to you and listen to your troubles?” he asks.
“Van Gogh,” you answer immediately.
“He’s dead,” Seungkwan says with an arched eyebrow, carefully avoiding the more obvious retort.
“And so are you to me right now,” you say flatly. 
“Touche,” he says with a light laugh. “What’s he done this time that’s got you all pissy?”
“He’s spent the last 20 minutes debating with me over whether or not a hotdog is a sandwich,” you say, expecting Seungkwan to think it’s just as ridiculous as you. 
What you’re not expecting, though you should be, is for him to pick up Jeonghan’s side in the debate and make you rehash everything you’ve already talked about. It sounds like such an innocuous topic. Something so outlandish that it could possibly spark debate for more than a few minutes. Yet, here you are, having the same debate all over again. It makes you even more heated despite not having a stake or opinion before Jeonghan asked you. In fact, you had never even considered the question. It was one of the most effective he had posed since he started sending you random questions or opinions like this. 
Somehow, though, your biggest mistake is telling Jeonghan that your roommate got just as invested as he had about the topic. Worse when you told Jeonghan that Seungkwan was on his side. It made it immediately obvious that you could not ever let those two meet. It would spell an instant demise for any remaining sanity you had left. The realization that they would be instant best friends is terrifying. 
The debate about whether or not hotdogs are sandwiches lasts all the way until the next day when Jeonghan shows up at your office hours, right at the start. The look on his face tells him that he’s about to carry on the text conversation. But, thankfully, he falls silent when you say that you actually want to get some grading done unless he actually has a question about the course material. It makes him soften, actually, and he agrees that he’ll sit at the little table and work on some of his own homework. It doesn’t really give the impression that he’s asking you for help, though you’re sure that you could sell it if you needed to. 
Normally, it’s not all that distracting to have Jeonghan in your space. Probably because he’s there so often that you’re kind of used to him by now. That’s a thought you don’t allow yourself to dwell on too long. It’s easier to maintain the idea that you kind of hate him than to consider what your real feelings might be. Yet, those thoughts seem to be swirling in your head just by him existing in the same space as you. If he’s equally affected, then you can’t tell. His fingers seem to fly across his keyboard as he works steadily on something. 
Without warning, his voice interrupts the rhythm you finally find. “Can I ask you a question?”
“You’ve never asked permission before,” you note, but don’t look up.
“I wasn’t sure if it was an office hours question,” he says with a little hesitation. 
That does get you to look over at him. “Is it about the course material?”
“No,” he says.
“Shocking,” you sigh. “Well, whatever it is, let’s have it.”
“Do you want to go out and get dinner sometime?” he asks, looking more vulnerable than usual.
It’s enough to make your heart both constrict and threaten to beat out of your chest. Does he know that you’ve been sitting here internally debating what your actual feelings towards him are? Has it been that obvious on your face? 
“With you?” you ask to buy yourself time. 
“That would be the idea, yes,” he says with a nervous chuckle.
“I don’t know…” you start.
“You don’t know because you’re trying to spare my feelings? Or you’re not sure for some reason?” he asks to clarify.
That’s such a crossroads kind of question. You’re not actually sure what the answer is yourself. All you know is that you feel immediate panic at the thought of one of the professors, especially Professor Choi, seeing you out with him. It’s not that there are any rules about TAs and students dating. After all, TAs are just students themselves. But, since you’re doing most of the grading, setting some of the assignments, and even leading some of the classes, it’s frowned upon. It could give the student actually in the class some kind of perceived advantage. The thoughts just go rapidly flying through your brain as you look over at Jeonghan’s expectant face.
You decide on some version of the truth: that it doesn’t matter what you think, it’s not a good idea for you to blur that line. That if someone from the university saw you out, that it could possibly jeopardize everything you’ve spent years working on. That Professor Choi seems even more old school than most of the other professors. You’ve already sacrificed so much. It’s just not a risk you think you can take. 
What you don’t say: that the question actually confuses you. That you can see yourself saying yes to finally figure out what exactly it is that’s going on with you and Jeonghan. You wonder what type of place he would pick. Wonder what he’s like when it’s really just the two of you without the risk of someone else butting in. You wonder if maybe he’ll answer all those personal questions that he’s so fond of dodging when he’s sitting in your office. It actually makes you wonder if saying yes is worth taking a risk when you’ve been so careful with everything in your entire academic career. It’s the kind of thought that really terrifies you even more. This is a man that you can’t even figure out your feelings towards and yet you’re considering taking a massive risk. 
It’s one of the most intense office hours you hold and you’re left with more questions than answers. 
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It’s been another exhausting day between your own classes, research, and doing work as a TA. Sure, there are definite upsides to your schedule. It helps you feel like you have a complete grasp on the material. It also helps you feel like you might be well suited to being a lecturer or even a professor yourself down the line. You also know that you’re giving more to your time as a TA than you need to. It’s just that you don’t want to leave anything to chance. The stronger the recommendation from Choi, the better. 
When you get to your apartment, Seungkwan is in the kitchen with Vernon and Chan. Which should be a concerning sight, since none of them are exactly great cooks, but you’re too tired to really care. You’re also kind of starving and whatever they’re making smells good. What’s the worst that could happen? So you call out quick greetings before heading into your room to drop off your things and change. You reemerge to the sounds of them bickering back and forth.
“Hey, do you want to try some of what we’re making?” Chan calls.
“She’s going to say no,” Seungkwan says.
“I’m starving. I’m down to try whatever it is,” you disagree. 
“Looks like Chan wins this one,” Vernon teases. 
A beep from your phone distracts you from engaging in the bickering back and forth. It’s the last thing you’re expecting, though it shouldn’t be. Ever since Jeonghan managed to get your number, and heard your half-hearted chat about boundaries, he’s been bothering you whenever he feels like it. 
Jeonghan: have you thought about what I asked? You: no Jeonghan: don’t believe you You: my answer hasn’t changed Jeonghan: that it's not a good idea? You: exactly Jeonghan: that’s not a no You: isn’t it? Jeonghan: listen, I respect you and if you tell me no, I won’t ask again Jeonghan: the only thing I’m going to ask if you actually think about it before saying no You: fine
“Hello? Are you there?” Seungkwan asks, snapping his fingers in front of your face. 
“Huh?” you ask.
“Oh, she’s gone girl,” Chan says with a laugh.
“Who were you texting?” Seungkwan asks. He gives you a look that screams he’s about to tease the shit out of you if you’re honest.
“Oh, nobody important. Just a friend,” you say dismissively. 
“Are we calling Jeonghan a friend now?” Seungkwan teases. 
���It wasn’t Jeonghan,” you say with an eye roll.
“Who’s Jeonghan?” Vernon asks.
“I think he’s that guy we’ve been betting on when she’s gonna finally give in and sleep with him,” Chan says in an undertone to Vernon.
“I’m not going to sleep with…hang on. What the fuck?” you ask, wheeling around on Seungkwan. “Have you been betting on me again?” 
“Only when you’re being an idiot,” Seungkwan says with a shrug. 
“Wait, again?” Vernon asks.
“Bro, we have been involved in other bets,” Chan says.
“I need new friends,” you grumble.
From there, it devolves into the usual bickering that you associate with your friend group. Sometimes you wonder how you even got so sucked into this friend group where they’re two or three years younger than you. You’re incredibly thankful for them, though, even in moments like this where you want to strangle them. 
Dinner moves into watching something and playing a game. It always goes the same way. Chan or Vernon take care of picking what to watch since they watch more TV and movies than you and Seungkwan. Conversely, Seungkwan usually picks the game, which is never a good idea because he always picks something that he’s good at. It doesn’t really matter to you, at least. Your brain tends to be fried from classes and research and all that. It’s nice to let them just make the decisions and chime in when you have something to say.
Thankfully, the conversations quickly move past your friends and their complete conviction that you have feelings for Jeonghan to much less serious topics. Sitting there, though, you feel an overwhelming sense of peace even in the chaos. Even when you say that you need new friends, you know that you wouldn’t trade these friends for the world. 
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It’s been just over a week since you promised to give Jeonghan’s question actual thought. You’re still not entirely sure why you agreed. It’s not like you’re actually going to say anything other than no. It’s been a little weird, though, because Jeonghan hasn’t brought it up again, either. It’s like he’s actually been true to his word. He even skipped your office hours when he would usually show up just to bother you and pretend to ask questions. 
Since your workload has been a little light, you agree to go out for drinks with Seungkwan and some friends. It’s a much needed night to unwind and just not think about any of the issues that plague you during the week. It’s a night of ridiculous conversations while you all give each other a hard time about nothing that really matters. Eventually, as is always the way it goes, Seungkwan gets up and kicks off some karaoke. It’s a blessing and a curse. He’s got an amazing voice and you feel like you should be paying to hear someone sing that well. But, then he wants other people to join him and none of you are that keen to embarrass yourselves by following him. 
Casting your eyes around the bar, they land on someone in a leather jacket. As you watch, he shrugs it off and sets it on the back of his chair. There’s something compellingly beautiful about him. He runs a hair through his short, perfectly textured black hair and turns his face slightly to the side. You’re appreciating his profile for a second before it hits you. This isn’t some stranger. It’s Jeonghan. It’s just that he’s clearly cut his hair and styled it differently. You quickly return your eyes to your group and only can hope that he hasn’t noticed you yet. Then again, Seungkwan has been loud and singing before returning to your table. Most people seem to have noticed him. Still, since Jeonghan hasn’t texted you or come over to say anything, you figure that maybe he hasn’t seen you. No matter what, you down another drink to forget about checking him out. 
By the time it’s your turn to go up to the bar and get another round of drinks, you’ve mostly pushed the thought of Jeonghan out of your mind. With your back to his table, it’s been much easier to act like he doesn’t exist. Once you’re at the bar, it’s a little more difficult. Your eyes find his table without even meaning to. His jacket is still there, but he’s not. 
“Looking for me?” a soft voice asks from just beside you. 
It makes you jump a little to realize that he’s somehow right next to you. You try your hardest to act like you’re unaffected when you turn to face him. Try to act like you didn’t realize he was there. Kind of fail at that, honestly, because you’re one drink past the point of being able to pull it off. “Hey, Jeonghan. How long have you been here?”
He smiles that mischievous smile that always makes him look like he knows something that you don’t. “I saw you looking over at my table. You knew I was here.”
“I almost don’t recognize you with the new haircut and that leather jacket,” you say and only realize your mistake a second too late. 
“The leather jacket back at my table?” he asks, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “I saw you checking your phone too.” 
“Were you watching me?” you challenge.
“Yes,” he admits freely. “You’re nice to look at.” 
“Oh, well that’s not…I didn’t mean,” you stutter out, saved by the bartender setting a small tray down of drinks for you and your friends. 
Somehow, though, because life isn’t fair (and neither is Seungkwan), your best friend picks that moment to waltz over claiming he wants to help with drinks. What he really seems to want is to introduce himself to Jeonghan. Even goes as far as pretending he hasn’t heard Jeonghan’s name before. Seungkwan manages to sell it better too and you think it would probably pass with anyone else that wasn’t paying such sharp attention. It’s only then that you notice Jeonghan doesn’t have a drink in hand. Doesn’t really seem the slightest bit drunk. Which is fine until Seungkwan manages to make it even worse by inviting Jeonghan and his friends to come join your group. 
Then, something else that’s kind of weird happens. Jeonghan, who has spent the entirety of the semester up until about a week ago terrorizing you, barely says anything to you at all. He talks about his favorite artists with Seungkwan. Asks Chan for suggestions on some movies that he’s recently seen. Even laughs about random ass memes with Vernon. His friends, whose names you can’t even remember, fit in just as seamlessly. It’s a little…well, uncomfortable. It’s giving you entirely too much time to think and you don’t like it.
So, you do the only reasonable thing and you keep getting drinks. Stay just on the right side of drunk so that you’re aware of your surroundings, but not sober. It makes it easier to deal with everything happening around you.
As the night continues on, your merged groups seem to ebb and flow. Some people wander over, drawn in by the fact that it seems like a fun place to be. Other times, some wander off to make new friends or have new conversations. This is especially true of Seungkwan, which you’re used to. Your roommate is one of the most social people that you know. And then people start to make their excuses to leave as it gets later. How you end up outlasting Chan is a mystery, since he seems to have endless energy. It’s fine, though. You still have your roommate.
Well, until he tells you, without nearly the amount of shame that he should have, that he’s going to be bringing someone home that he got to talking to about karaoke. It’s a little unlike him, at least until you realize that the person isn’t a stranger. They’re definitely someone that Seungkwan has talked to before. It still leaves you a little lost on what to do or where to go.
“I never ask you for anything,” Seungkwan pleads. It’s patently false. He’s always asking you for things, just never things like this. 
“I could text Chan or Vernon to see if they’ll let me crash on their couch,” you say, trying to quickly clear the cloudiness from your brain. 
“Don’t they put their phones into DND as soon as they get home?” Seungkwan asks.
“My only other option is to just go home and put headphones on,” you say.
“You could come crash at my place. My roommate won’t be back from a trip til tomorrow,” Jeonghan offers. 
“Perfect! Thank you!” Seungkwan rushes out.
“Um? Seungkwan? You can’t just send me to some stranger's house?” you protest.
“He’s not a stranger. He’s been in your class all semester and at your office hours nearly every day,” Seungkwan says with an eye roll. Jeonghan looks vindicated hearing this piece of information. “You’re so dramatic.” 
“It’ll be fine. I can sleep in his room and you can sleep in mine. I’ll even make sure you have fresh sheets if you’re worried,” he says. 
This is definitely a bad idea. Even though you’re not drunk, you’re definitely not sober enough to pretend you’re not at least a little bit interested in Jeonghan. Everything about him seems to be a study in contrasts. Confident but not in some toxic masculinity type of way. Chaotic but serious at the same time. Silly to where he would say he joined a class because he’s good at Legos but also genuinely smart. And beautiful in a way so few men seem to be. He’s just something entirely his own.
You shake your head because you realize you’re spacing out. This is a terrible idea and one you probably wouldn’t agree to if you were sober. It’s not like he’s actually a stranger, though. Jeonghan seems to have realized the conclusion before you open your mouth. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Dangerous question,” Jeonghan says with a glint in his eyes. 
“I love you,” Seungkwan says and wraps you up in a hug before skipping off. 
“Are you ready to leave, then?” Jeonghan asks when it’s just the two of you.
“Yeah, might as well,” you say. He nods, looking a little unsure for the first time since you’ve known him and turns to grab his jacket. Says a quick goodbye to his friends and you try to ignore the looks they cast over at you. 
“Let’s go,” he says a minute later.
“Are we calling an Uber or something?” you ask.
“I’m sober because I rode my bike here,” he says as he leads the way outside.
“I’m sorry, you rode your what?” you ask, brain slow to catch up with what he’s saying. It’s then that you notice he didn’t just grab his jacket. He’s got a helmet as well. 
“Bike,” he says and indicates a motorcycle parked outside the bar. 
That brings you up a little short. It’s the last thing you would have expected when you thought of this man. Though, maybe it shouldn’t have been. After all, you said he was a study in contrasts. Isn’t this just another one of those? 
Somehow, the more you look, the more it seems to suit him. It’s not some big, clunky bike. Not what you typically think of when you think of a motorcycle. It’s sharp and beautiful, just like he is, even if you can only admit that in your head. He pulls open a compartment that seems to be under the backseat and hands over a helmet. 
“Promise I won’t go too fast,” he says with a softer smile than you’ve seen on him before. Like he’s actually trying to reassure you. 
Sure, it’s not the first time you’ve been on a bike. It’s just that of all the ways you could have seen this night ending, this wasn’t one of them. At least you’re not feeling too self conscious as you slide onto the bike behind Jeonghan and wrap your arms around his waist. You miss the way his breath stutters as you settle in close to him. Miss the way his heart starts to beat out of his chest because you’re too focused on getting comfortable. Don’t even think twice about clinging to his lean frame. But, even with the drinks, it’s hard to ignore the way that your body slots perfectly against his. Or the way your thighs squeeze against his hips. Maybe there’s a lot more to whatever has been happening than you’ve been admitting to yourself. 
Once you reach Jeonghan’s apartment, he carefully helps you off the bike and then puts a bit of distance between you again. It’s the first time that you notice he seems nervous, like maybe, you think, he might be reconsidering if this was a good idea. There’s not really much you can do about that now. You promised Seungkwan that he could have some privacy in the apartment and you’re already here. It can’t possibly be so bad that you really regret coming here. It could even help you sort through the very complicated feelings that are making their presence known. 
Inside the apartment it’s incredibly cozy. Not at all like you imagine two single guys would live while they’re in school. It’s not overly cluttered, but it doesn’t feel cold either. Jeonghan disappears as soon as you both have your shoes off, which lets you look around at some of the decorations. He returns with a spare t-shirt and shorts for you to change into. Despite your insistence that it’s fine, he just presses them to you and indicates where the bathroom is for you to change. 
It feels oddly…comfortable. Like this isn’t the first time you’ve seen him outside of class or your office. It also makes you take a little longer to change because you have to process whatever you’re feeling. Since you’re not sure exactly what to do after you change, you peek your head out into the living area. Jeonghan is setting some snacks and water out with the TV on in the background. You take it as a sign that you’re supposed to come out and join him. Momentarily, he disappears into his room and reappears also wearing more comfortable clothes. 
The confusion only gets even worse from there. Maybe it’s just that Seungkwan’s gotten into your head. Since you’re finally processing that you might be interested in being something a little more with Jeonghan, you expect things to go a certain way. Seungkwan, and your other friends, for that matter, seem to think it’s only a matter of time before you cross over into being more than friends. Subconsciously, your brain must have latched onto that. Even wanted it, a little. But, now you’re here, and Jeonghan doesn’t do anything. He’s not the smooth, confident person that you’ve gotten to know over the course of the semester. He doesn’t try to pull any moves on you. Just makes sure that you’re comfortable, that you like the snacks, and that you like the show he has on.
It all feels like it’s a little too much and so Jeonghan shows you the way to his bedroom. Your nerves feel frayed because surely, this is the moment where things finally shift. Surely this is when he makes whatever move he’s held off on making up until this point. Quickly, you brush off the need to change the sheets. It’s not like it’s that big of a deal if something else happens. Without giving your brain a chance to overthink it, you lean in to give him a hug. His whole body tenses for a second and you’re about to pull away, when he finally relaxes and wraps his arms around you.
“You know, you can just sleep in your own bed,” you offer carefully.
“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he says through an emotion that you can’t place. 
“I won’t be. Plus, I’d hate to force you into your roommate’s bed,” you suggest again, meeting his eye to reinforce the point.
“Oh, well, it’s…” he starts, eyes avoiding your gaze.
“Really, Jeonghan, it’s fine. Your bed is big,” you say.
“Okay,” he agrees and walks to the other side of the bed.
It’s confusing, to say the least. He slides into the opposite side of the bed without meeting your eyes again. You’re not exactly sure how to give him another sign that you want something else to happen without making it too obvious, especially because it’s not clear if he wants that. The guy constantly in your office was just on the right side of flirty. Always trying to wear you down. This Jeonghan in his apartment is much quieter, more reserved. Like he’s not really sure what happens now that he’s gotten you outside of school like he claims he’s wanted. 
“D’you usually sleep with the TV on?” he asks and you pull a face.
“I’m not a psycho,” you snort. 
“Good to know after I let you into my apartment,” he jokes back and turns on the TV anyway. “I’ll set a timer just in case we both fall asleep.” 
Confusing. You’re laying in bed with this person that up until tonight you referred to as basically a stranger and there’s just…nothing happening. The two of you are plenty close enough that you could brush up against him, yet not touching at all. His attention seems to stay forward on the TV. Occasionally, he shifts to get more comfortable, but he doesn’t get onto his phone or even really look over at you. 
Thankfully, the bed is comfortable and without even realizing it, you drift off to sleep laying on your side, facing Jeonghan. The last thing you remember is looking up at his face. Appreciating the cut of his jaw and the way the light from the TV threw his features into contrast. Then nothing but the easiest sleep you’ve had after a night of drinking.
In the morning, when it’s too early to wake up after a late night but late enough that the sun seeps through the curtains, you have a momentary panic wondering where you are. Slowly, the night before settles back into your brain and you relax into the bed. It’s only when you feel a weight around your middle that you wonder if everything is coming back. It is, though. You think back to the last things you remember before falling asleep. Jeonghan was safely on his side of the bed. Now, his arm is draped over your waist and he’s breathing rhythmically like he’s still fast asleep. For once, instead of overthinking it, you just slow your brain back down and drift back into sleep. After all, this is one the right path to what you wanted the night before. 
The sun is fully up when you wake up again if the light streaming around the curtains is any indication. That’s not the only difference, either. There’s no weight around your waist and, when you look over your shoulder, the other side of the bed is empty. Which isn’t entirely surprising when your phone tells you that it’s nearly noon. It’s very unlike you to sleep in that late, but it makes sense. You’re just thankful that Jeonghan insisted on giving you so much water and something to make sure you didn’t wake up with a headache. Even though you’re still a little tired, you’re not hungover and that feels like a miracle. 
But, what do you do now? Nothing happened last night, despite genuinely feeling like Jeonghan had some level of interest in you. But, then he did share the bed with you and curl up to you during the night. Maybe that was his subconscious way of showing what he couldn’t say. You’re out of the bed and nearly out the bedroom door when you hear voices drifting in from somewhere else in the apartment. Voices, plural. One is clearly Jeonghan, but the other sounds female and that stops you in your tracks. 
The decision is immediate once you hear the second voice laughing at something Jeonghan says. You open your group chat with Seungkwan, Chan, and Vernon to ask if any of them are around to pick you up. Chan is the first, and fastest, to respond, saying to drop your location and he’ll be out the door to get you in a minute without any questions asked. That’s more than you’re expecting and you’re incredibly thankful. Makes it feel like one weight has been lighted as you quickly and quietly get dressed back into the clothes you wore the night before. 
Chan texts you to let you know he’s only a few minutes out. That’s your queue to actually leave the bedroom and make an appearance out in the rest of the apartment. Jeonghan’s back is to you and it looks like he’s got a cup of coffee next to him. The other person you heard from the bedroom is, in fact, a woman. She’s stunning in an effortless way that actually makes your head hurt a little bit. It has absolutely nothing to do with the drinks the night before, either. Her eyes land on you and there’s a smile you can’t place. It could be saying that she knows she won, despite whatever effort you made. Something on her face must tip Jeonghan off because he turns around.
And it’s worse than you thought, immediately. The smile on his face is both welcoming and soft, like he’s actually happy to see you. It only makes the whole thing more confusing. Why is he looking at you like that with one of the most beautiful people sitting across from him? 
“You’re awake,” he says, still smiling. “I hope Hana here didn’t make too much noise.” 
“Sorry, babe, I only have one volume setting,” she, Hana, apparently, says with another smile you can’t place. 
“Do you want coffee? Something to eat?” Jeonghan says and starts to get out of his chair.
“No, no, it’s fine. My friend is almost here to pick me up. Thanks for letting me crash last night,” you say without fully meeting Jeonghan’s eyes. It means you miss the confusion that settles in there.
Without a backward glance, you’re out the door and down the elevator. It’s only another minute or so before Chan pulls up, shockingly by himself, and smiles softly at you as you get into his car. All he asks is if you’re hungry and then starts navigating to your favorite place to get breakfast food that’s open at least into the early afternoon. It’s exactly what you need right now. 
Chan lets you just be in your head while he drives with music playing softly in the background. It might be a dangerous decision, honestly. All you can think about are reasons for that person, Hana, your brain supplies automatically, to be in Jeonghan’s apartment like that. His roommate wasn’t home, to the best of your knowledge, so that means she was there for Jeonghan. Was that his girlfriend? Was that why he was so reluctant to do anything the night before? On some level, you do know that’s probably not the right answer. The rational part of your brain knows that he wouldn’t be so calm if that was his girlfriend. There’s no space in your brain for rationality right now, though. So, you’re going to stew in the feelings that she could be dating someone. 
“Do you wanna talk about whatever happened last night?” Chan asks once you’re sitting opposite of each other in a booth. 
“Not really,” you say. “Nothing happened last night, though. So, you don’t have to worry about whoever wins the bet.” 
“I’m not worried about some stupid bet. I’m worried about you,” he says. 
You shrug. “I think I might actually like him.”
“No shit,” Chan says with a knowing smile.
“You didn’t let me finish. I think I might like him and I don’t think it matters,” you say.
“Start at the beginning and we’ll figure this out together.” 
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It’s been a week since whatever happened at Jeonghan’s apartment and you haven’t spoken a word to him since leaving. Not that he hasn’t tried to speak to you. After breakfast with Chan, you realized you had both texts and missed calls from Jeonghan trying to figure out what went wrong. Those stay unanswered. Even if you’re being stupid, you can’t really bring yourself to behave in a different way. When the next class comes around, you avoid his eyes as much as possible. The one or two times you do look over at him, he looks incredibly hurt and confused. It’s funny, you think, how he’s the one that’s acting put out by this whole situation when you’re the one who had to wake up to some other woman in his apartment without understanding anything. 
That leads to your first office hours. Thankfully, Jeonghan doesn’t show up to those like he normally would. The office feels a lot quieter, even though other students stop by to ask questions. It just all feels very professional and detached. Not comfortable in the way it does when he drops by. It’s hard to admit, even to yourself, that you had gotten used to having him around. That you even looked forward to it. Somehow, you’re not really sure how, Jeonghan became one of your favorite parts of every day you saw him. That realization makes you want to crawl into your bed and hide forever. No matter what, it doesn’t feel like you’ll have the option to go back to that. It sucks to realize it just took you too long to come to the very obvious conclusion. 
Now, at least, it’s the weekend again so you have a short reprieve from all things school related. Well, all things Jeonghan related because you still have your own homework to handle, assignments to grade, and a new week to prepare for. At the very least, you deserve a little bit of a treat. Texting the group chat makes you realize, though, that a lot of your friends seem to have their own things going on. 
Seungkwan is out spending the day with the same person that he brought home last weekend. They seem like they’re really enjoying getting to know each other, which you’re rooting for wholeheartedly. You want your roommate and best friend to be happy. Vernon is kind of vague saying that he’s got other plans. With anyone else, you might think that he’s also seeing someone. You just know that he tends to be a little spacy when it comes to sharing plans. Knowing Vernon, he’s probably just off with some friend of his. Once again, Chan comes through and says that he could really use a coffee. Apparently, there’s some new cafe by him that he’s been wanting to try out. It feels like an excuse because Chan will absolutely go anywhere by himself, but you take it all the same. He’s actually probably the easiest of your friends to speak to about this, even if he’s younger than you are. 
One sip into your drink proves that this is the best decision for a Saturday afternoon. Chan chatters away about the things that have been going on in his life. He’s taking more dance classes in every free moment he has and it’s nice to see the way his face lights up talking about it. He certainly seems happier than any time you see him talking about his actual classes. Think about suggesting he give up one thing to pursue something else that would truly make him happy. His face is different when he’s happy like this. It makes it obvious how strained he feels with everything else.
A laugh pierces through the crowd and it gives you the worst sense of deja vu. Suddenly, you’re back in Jeonghan’s apartment. Which is crazy, right? What are the odds that he and the mystery woman are in this same coffee shop at the same time as you and Chan?
Not impossible, apparently. Well, at least in part. Your eyes cast around for the source of the laugh when they land on the mystery woman sitting with someone else that you don’t recognize. Your brain tries to stutter over the name before it forces you to think, Hana. Just as you’re about to look away, her eyes find yours like she could sense someone looking at her. She flashes a smile, which you try to return, before looking back at Chan and whatever story he’s sharing. 
That should be it. Except, when she appears by your side a moment later, you realize it’s not. She has someone else you’ve never seen in tow behind her. Chan, not always as quick on the uptake, looks up at her in confusion.
“Hey, I wasn’t sure if you remembered me…” she begins and you’re quick to answer.
“I do, yeah. Sorry about the other day,” you say. Chan’s face has a look of dawning comprehension. 
“No, no, it’s fine. I’m sorry if I did something to offend you. I didn’t even catch your name,” Hana says and you open your mouth to share before she cuts you off with a wave of her hand. “No, Jeonghan told me. He’s done nothing but speak about you for weeks now.”
“And I thought I could be annoying,” the mystery person says from behind Hana.
“Oh, I’m so rude. This is my boyfriend, Joshua,” Hana introduces and your brain short circuits. What? Boyfriend?
“And Jeonghan’s roommate. I hit traffic coming back last weekend or I would’ve been there to meet you as well. Make the morning even more awkward,” he jokes.
“I’m sorry,” you say, rapidly trying to make your brain connect. “You two are dating?”
“Yup!” Hana says with a smile and then notices your face. “Wait, what did you think? That I was dating Jeonghan?”
“Oh, well, I don’t know. I just thought…it was still early-ish in the day and…” you stumble awkwardly. 
“Babe, no. Jeonghan is very single. I was just early getting there because Joshua hit traffic and I was excited to see him,” she says. “He will kill me for saying this, but he hasn’t talked about anyone but you since the class started.”
“Please note that I had no part in spilling the beans. I have to live with him,” Joshua jokes. 
“And just so there’s no more confusion, I’m one of her closest friends, Chan. Not a boyfriend or date or anything like that,” Chan says. 
“Oh!” Hana says and turns to Joshua. “Jeonghan was mentioning him, remember? There was a movie we were supposed to watch.” 
“Yeah, he did mention that,” Joshua agrees.
“Anyway, I’m sure you have lots to think about, but I’m nosy and I figured I’d say hi. Have a good weekend!” Hana says, full of more energy than anyone should have on the weekend. Joshua gives a smile and follows her out of the shop.
As soon as they’re out of sight, you drop your head into your hands. All that worrying and you could have just talked to him. Could have avoided this whole idiotic situation. 
“Feeling kinda dumb right now?” Chan asks. You raise your head to glare at him. “I did say it didn’t seem like he was seeing someone.” 
“Not the time, Chan,” you say.
“It’s completely the time. Look, yeah you fucked up by not just talking to him. But, you admitted that you liked him. He clearly likes you. Just talk to him. I’m sure you can fix it,” he says. 
“I don’t know,” you start. “I was such an asshole.” 
“I mean, yeah, you kind of were. But, he spent that whole night after Seungkwan invited them over getting to know your friends. Genuinely interested in everything we said. He’s not doing that just to make more friends. He wants to show you that he can fit into your life without anything really having to change,” Chan reasons and it brings you up short.
“When did you get so smart?” you question.
“I’ve always been smart, you just treat me like a baby,” he says with an eye roll.
“You are the baby in this friend group,” you point out. 
“Just go figure out how to make it up to him,” Chan says. 
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Even though you know it was a terrible miscommunication, you’re not sure how to approach Jeonghan for the rest of the weekend. You’re also not sure how the conversation will go. So, despite knowing better, you decide to just take your time. Get yourself completely set for the coming week and figure that you’ll see Jeonghan during the next class. As much as you want resolution, you don’t feel like it would be enough for you to text him and ask to talk. That could also be taken wildly out of context.
So, you prepare for the next class. Make sure you look a little cuter than you normally would for class. Go over what you’re going to say with both Seungkwan and Chan, who’s gotten incredibly invested in the whole situation. It’s another class where you’ll just be sitting in the back and listening, which might also make it easier. You’re a little early getting there so that you can set all your things down. 
But, then the class starts to fill in and you don’t see Jeonghan. Professor Choi closes the door, doesn’t comment on Jeonghan’s absence, and just starts teaching. It’s unusual. He normally takes attendance. Instead, he does a head count of the students and gets on with teaching. Everyone else is there. Jeonghan is the only one missing. You figure that maybe he reached out about missing the class. It leaves a weird feeling in your stomach, though, because you wonder if he’s okay. What if something happened to him? 
At the end of class, you join Choi at the front as you do on every other occasion. The answer comes immediately when Choi looks up at you. “Mr. Yoon emailed me before the class to say that he was feeling very sick and wouldn’t be able to make it. I assured him you would send over some notes on the subject matter today.” 
You try to avoid any relief that you feel at knowing it’s at least nothing that serious. It sucks that he’s sick, but at least he wasn’t in an accident or anything. You need to stop going to the worst case scenario, honestly. “Oh, sure. I’m sure he’s already ahead on the material, but I’ll send it over.”
“He’s such a good student,” Choi agrees. “Thank you for helping him with the proposal. I’m not sure if you read it over, but it’s exactly what I was looking for.”
“I did read it because he wrote it during my office hours. But, it was all him,” you say. 
Professor Choi looks up at you like he knows that’s not entirely true. “I can feel your influence on it. In a good way, of course. You have a habit of helping people get to their best results.”
“Thank you,” you say earnestly. It’s the most genuine compliment he’s ever given you. He reaches into his briefcase and pulls out a folder to hand to you. “Did I miss picking up an assignment to grade?”
“No,” he says with a smile you’re not used to seeing. “This is your letter for the recommendation packet. I already sent it in, but I thought you might like to see a copy.”
“Thank you so much, Professor Choi,” you say with a relieved sigh. 
“You’re incredibly bright, probably one of the brightest students I’ve ever taught,” he says and it takes you completely by surprise. “I know it’s probably seemed like I’ve been hard on you because I have been. I knew there was even more potential in you waiting to be coaxed out. I also know I made it much easier on John to ask for a recommendation. But, between you and I, your letter is much more complimentary and personal than his was. I can’t wait to see what you accomplish.” 
It all suddenly makes sense. Everything that Choi has put you through since asking for his letter. It almost makes you laugh. “I’m sorry for doubting your motives for asking me to TA this class.”
Now, Professor Choi does actually laugh. “Oh, no need to apologize for that. It’s much easier to get the most out of a student when they think they have something to prove.”
“You may be onto something,” you agree.
“I’ll see you next class,” he says and closes up his briefcase to head off.
With that bit of good news, you feel a lot lighter. You almost don’t even need to read the letter (though, you definitely will later). It’s enough to know that your entire future is still open ahead of you. It makes all of the miscommunication with Jeonghan feel incredibly silly. It also makes you feel a little bolder. So, you figure that you still have the location for Jeonghan’s apartment dropped in a group chat. Why not get him some food and medicine to help him feel better? It’ll give you a chance to apologize for how you’ve handled everything up until this point. 
That idea seems a little poorly thought out when you show up at Jeonghan’s apartment with soup and medication. He answers the door, looking completely fine healthwise and confused to see you standing on the other side of the door. 
“Professor Choi said you were really sick so I figured I’d bring some soup to help you feel better,” you offer, holding up the bag to show him. 
“Why are you here?” he asks. There’s none of the normal warmth.
“I was worried about you,” you admit.
He sighs and leans against the doorframe without letting you in. “I can’t do these mind games.” 
“I’m sorry,” you say immediately. “I know I messed up really badly. I owe you an apology.” 
“You might as well come in,” Jeonghan says and steps aside. “Soup does also sound good. It’s cold out.” 
“Right, here,” you say and hand it over to him.
“Is there enough for you to eat with me?” he asks and takes the bag. “Oh, it looks like it. Wanna join me? And you can try to explain what’s been going on?” 
“Sure,” you agree.
It’s mostly silent as Jeonghan heats up the soup and puts it into two bowls for you to enjoy it with him. He sets the bowls at the kitchen table and also sets some drinks down for you. The two of you take a few sips first before you venture to explain what’s been going on.
“I’m really sorry, Jeonghan,” you say.
“So you’ve said,” he comments. He’s not going to make this easy on you.
“That whole night when I stayed here wasn’t exactly what I signed up for,” you admit. He opens his mouth, but you wave him off. “Let me try to get this out. You were so kind and caring to me when you brought me back here. Then, I was kind of expecting something to happen and nothing did…”
“Because you had been drinking. I wasn’t just gonna be like hey, let’s jump into bed when your mind wasn’t fully clear,” he says with a scoff. 
“That’s fair. I get that,” you acknowledge. “Then, I don’t know. I saw Hana sitting out here with you the next day and I just kinda freaked out. I had realized that I might actually like you and here’s this beautiful person in your apartment for who knows what reason. I worried she was your girlfriend or something.”
He snorts a little derisively at that. “That would be kinda shitty to share a bed with you and then let you walk out to find me with a girlfriend. She’s not, by the way. She’s my roommate Joshua’s girlfriend.”
“Yeah, I know. I ran into her and Joshua while I was getting coffee over the weekend,” you admit sheepishly. This seems to surprise him.
“You met Joshua?” he asks. 
“They didn’t tell you?” you ask in return and he shakes his head. “Probably because Hana told me that I’m the only one you’ve talked about since starting the class.” 
“I wouldn’t have even cared if I had an answer to why you started ignoring me,” he says. 
“I got a bit scared,” you say softly. 
“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t just speak to me,” he insists.
“I know that. I really am sorry, that’s all I can say,” you offer. 
“Well that and you can tell me that you do actually like me. Not that you might like me or something else vague,” he says with a glint to his eyes. 
“You are…infuriating,” you say with a laugh. “You’re beautiful and smart and funny and impossibly kind. You make me want to pull out my hair at least once a day…”
“Don’t do that. You have nice hair,” he interjects.
“But, yes, I’m trying not to be scared anymore. So yeah, I do like you,” you say.
“What about being the TA for my class?” he asks and you shrug. 
“The class will end eventually,” you say. 
“Does this count as our first date, then?” he asks like the true demon he is. 
“Only if you plan something else for our second date,” you concede.
“Deal,” he agrees. 
Everything feels a little bit easier after that. A little bit lighter. Like you actually can breathe for the first time all semester. You tell Jeonghan about the letter and he suggests that you read it right then with him. It makes sense, in a way. Working with Jeonghan has brought out exactly the side to you that Choi wanted to see. It feels like this is kind of his win as well, even though he didn’t realize it. It also feels a little less overwhelming to read it with him by your side. (It’s a rave. Way better than anything you could have dared to hope for and better than any other letter written by him that you’ve read. Everything feels worth it and like it falls into place.)
Now that the awkwardness is out of the way, Jeonghan shares that he wasn’t actually sick, which you already know. It’s obvious looking at him that he feels fine. It does surprise you a bit that he admits to avoiding you to give himself time to process, though. Then he moves onto talking about Joshua and Hana, grumbling that they hadn’t told him about running into you after you relay the entire conversation. Even goes as far as to say that he would have come to class so that you could have figured all of this out. Instead, he admits telling Joshua about the plan to skip. That’s why Joshua isn’t there, though. He claimed he was going to give Jeonghan his space to work through whatever he was feeling and spend the night at Hana’s. You make a mental note to thank Joshua for that. 
“How early is your day tomorrow? Do you want to stay and watch a movie or something?” he asks a little awkwardly when you finish your soup.
“Not that early,” you answer easily. “A movie sounds good, but can we watch something in your room? I feel like laying in bed and being lazy.”
“Oh, uh, sure,” he says.
“We don’t have to,” you say quickly.
“Can I say something that’s really gonna make me look…not cool?” he asks. 
“Sure,” you say curiously.
“You make me a little nervous,” he admits. 
That completely surprises you. Nothing about Jeonghan really seems anything short of confident in everything that he does. It’s kind of nice to see him falter. All you do is hold out a hand to him. “It’s okay, there’s nothing to be nervous about.”
He takes your hand easily and lets you lead him into his own bedroom. Seems very content to let you just set the pace of what’s happening. So, you settle on top of his covers and he hands you the remote. It’s nice to get to control what’s on the TV for a change, even if you’re not really paying much attention to it. Jeonghan is a little stiff against his headboard as you try to settle into his body. 
“Is it okay if I lean against you like this?” you ask, suddenly worrying this is too much.
“Of course,” he says after a moment. 
“You can tell me if…” you start.
“No,” he says firmly. “No, I’ve been thinking about this since the last time I had you in my bed.”
“Just since then?” you tease.
“No, it was definitely before then, but I’ve already lost a lot of cool points,” he says.
“I don’t want to possibly misread the signs, but are you okay with…” you start, once again, before he cuts you off.
“I am fine with absolutely anything you want to give me,” he says and you wish you could see his face. Wonder if he’s blushing.
“And if that’s just a cuddle?” you test.
“Fine,” he says.
“Or if it’s a kiss?” you ask and feel the breath he takes. “Or what about if it’s a lot more than a kiss?” 
He takes another beat. His voice sounds a bit strained when he speaks. “Definitely more than just fine.” 
That’s really all the confirmation that you need. Making sure you’re on the same page is important and getting this kind of consent makes it easier to relax. You settle further back into his chest and pull his arm around you, let one of your own arms drape across his lap. It feels like it might be easier for him to settle that way. So that you can’t see his face and he doesn’t have to worry about losing any more cool points. Not that those really matter with you anyway. More than anything, it’s entertaining to see the way this constantly confident, perpetual pain in the ass gets so tongue-tied now that he’s getting what he wants. 
The more time goes by, the more he seems to relax a little more into what’s happening around him. His fingers absently run along your arm, raising goosebumps in their wake. He leans his head down to meet yours and you could swear his lips press the lightest kiss into your hair. His entire presence is a little overwhelming. And he smells amazing. It’s such a unique scent that you can’t place. Something light, airy, and delicate. Something that seems to perfectly suit him. It might be your new favorite scent. 
Nothing about the TV show is keeping your attention. It feels like little more than a precursor to what you both know is coming. But, Jeonghan doesn’t make the first move beyond the contact his fingers make with your arm. The first actual move seems like it might belong to you, which is actually kind of exciting. It’s a bit thrilling to know that you’re going to be in charge with this man who’s done nothing but send every one of your senses into overdrive. It’s nice to know that he doesn’t need to be in control of everything. 
Almost as if you’re testing the water, you run your hand across his lap, careful to go slowly. He stops breathing for a second as he seems to wait to see what you’ll do next. It prompts you to run your hand back and forth a few more times, not bothering to move on from the subtle imprint of his dick through his sweatpants. Everything about him stills: his hand freezes on your arm, he doesn’t fidget, and his breathing is incredibly shallow. He starts to get noticeably harder underneath your hand while you keep your eyes trained forward, even though you have no idea what’s going on in whatever show you picked as background noise. There’s something strangely intimate about this in the way it feels a little innocent. 
Finally, when he starts to moan a little with each motion, you pull your hand away. Delight in the way he actually whimpers at the loss of contact. It’s time to actually face him so that you can see what you’re doing to him. Repositioning yourself, you see the look on his face. He’s a little flushed just from the attention and his eyes are wide. Waiting. All he’s doing is waiting to let you set what happens next, like he can’t really believe that this is happening after so much time. It is, though. 
You run a hand through his hair and marvel at how soft it is when it looks perfectly styled. Either his hair just looks like that or he’s got the best products in the world. Neither feels fair when he’s already this stunningly beautiful. Gently, you lean forward to press your lips against his. Let your hand tangle in his hair as you anchor yourself to him. The kiss is at complete odds with you slowly rubbing him through his pants. There’s a little bit of desperation and you’re not even sure which of you it’s coming from. All you know for sure is that his lips are so soft that they feel like clouds and he doesn’t even fight you for control when you slide your tongue into his mouth. Just meets whatever pace you set. He really is happy with whatever you give him. 
Your free hand winds down his body and doesn’t waste any time slipping into the waistband of his pants. When your hand wraps around his cock, he tries to pull away from the kiss, but you don’t let him. The moan that comes from you running your thumb over his tip gets caught up in your lips. You pull your hand out just long enough to spit into your palm and return it to the inside of his pants. Jeonghan does break the kiss when your hand wraps around his cock and strokes the first time, a hiss coming out of his mouth. 
“Are you still sure you’re okay?” you ask, but it’s almost more of a tease. 
“Fuck,” he hisses out. “Please don’t stop. Please.”
Hearing him nearly begging like that is the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. Never could you have imagined you would have this man like putty beneath your hands. It’s going to your head a little bit and then it hits you. You wonder if you can make him come just like this. Wonder how that would feel to have that kind of power over him. 
So, you do the only logical thing, and decide to test it out. You kiss him again, fierce and messy and desperate. Keep a steady rhythm of stroking him. He’s a squirming, writhing mess under your touch and it’s like he doesn’t even remember what to do with his hands. It’s actually turning you on as well to know that he wants you this bad. That nothing more than your lips and his touch are going to send him over the edge. It’s obvious when he starts getting close because he works harder to break the kiss. Can’t seem to catch his breath. You take a little pity on him and kiss across his jaw. Even pull away to watch him as he squeezes his eyes shut.
“You’re gonna make me come,” he whimpers.
“So come,” you direct.
“I can’t come in my pants like a fucking teenager,” he protests. “Please, I’m begging…”
“I want you to come for me, Jeonghan. Right now. Exactly like this. Come for me and show me how desperate you’ve been to have my hands on your cock,” you instruct.
“Fuck,” he draws out. “Fuck, I can’t…I’m gonna…”
His release comes almost out of nowhere, so hard and heavy that it coats your hand as you continue to stroke him through the release, coaxing every last bit from him. Once he’s spent, he collapses back against the headboard of the bed and you see any tension drain from his body. You pull your hand from inside his pants and wipe it off on them. Thankfully, he doesn’t even seem to protest. 
While his breathing steadies, you shift and get off of the bed. He slowly opens his eyes and tracks your movement. Only swallows a little hard when you start to undress without taking your eyes off him. Sometimes, this part makes you a little self conscious. It’s much easier now, though, knowing you had just made Jeonghan come in his pants. That’s an ego boost you never expected to get. His breath stutters when you even remove your bra and panties, leaving yourself completely exposed before him. His eyes go somehow even wider when you get back onto the bed and position yourself in front of him. He reaches out to touch you, but you slap his hand away.
“Oh, no, no,” you chastise softly. “No, my little demon, you are going to watch now.”
“Watch?” he asks. 
“Yes, watch,” you confirm and study his face. “Don’t you want to watch me get myself off? Don’t you want to watch me show you exactly what it is that I like?” 
“F-fuck that’s…wow,” he stutters out. 
You lean back, using one hand behind you on the bed to brace yourself. You spread your legs open to show him the way your pussy already glistens a little. The kissing and the feel of bringing him over the edge like that really turned you on. It’s a little bit of a first for you. Running a finger up your entrance, you collect some of the wetness there. Do it once more for good measure. And then, still emboldened by what’s happened so far, you reach forward to hold your finger out to Jeonghan. Let it run along his lip until he takes it into his mouth and tastes you. 
“Fuck, you’re so…just, fuck,” he hisses. “Can I…”
“No,” you say and cut him off, pulling your finger back. 
Now that you’ve had a taste of him begging for something, you want to drive him to that again. Want to get him so turned on that he can’t even see straight. You slowly tease at your entrance and watch the way his eyes track each movement. When you use your free hand to play with one of your nipples, he seems like he can’t really figure out where to look. Then, you slide one finger into your pussy and it’s like he can’t see to take his eyes off the motion. You moan, even though it’s nowhere near enough of a stretch, and increase the rhythm. Quickly add another finger and start to fuck yourself just the way you like. Just the way you would when you want to draw out your release a little more than using a toy. You slide your free hand down your body and use it to rub small circles on your clit. Somewhere, the thought of Jeonghan watching you becomes a little secondary. It’s incredibly sexy to know that he’s just watching, but you’re also invested in your own high. You want to do this for yourself as much as to show Jeonghan. Can’t possibly realize that Jeonghan is even more turned on knowing that you’re so lost to your own passion. 
The orgasm washes over you more suddenly than you’re expecting and it takes a moment to catch your breath. It takes another moment to realize that Jeonghan has undressed himself while you were lost in your own world. He isn’t touching himself though and you can’t figure out if he’s still sensitive or just waiting for your permission. It’s hard to avoid the realization that every part of him is beautiful. His body is all lean lines, not overly muscular, yet still looks strong. Even his cock is kind of beautiful in a way, which isn’t fair. It’s not surprising, though. 
“That was one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen,” he admits, a little breathless. 
“D’you think you can make me come as well?” you tease. “Want to feel my pussy squeeze around you?” 
He nods immediately and it makes you laugh a little. “I know I can. I want…” 
“To taste me?” you offer and his eyes go dark with lust. 
“Can I?” he asks. “Can I actually get a taste? Just your finger wasn’t really enough.” 
“I want to see what that mouth can do when it’s not talking a mile a minute,” you say. “I hope you’re just as good with your tongue.”
It’s obvious that this catches him a little off guard that you’re so confident now with him. So easily fall into telling him exactly what you want him to do. But, you’re very curious to see what his skills are like. The two of you reposition so that he can settle between your legs. His eyes find yours, searching, Maybe asking permission. You nod and he uses his fingers to spread your lips open. He licks up your core and mutters a quiet fuck under his breath at your lingering wetness. The breath against your core sends a slight shiver through your body. 
After all the build up and everything, you don’t really have the patience for him to go slow. So, you tangle your hand into his hair and press his head further into your cunt. Force his nose to brush against your clit. Don’t really stop to consider if it’s too much for him. His moans into you seem to show that they’re not, though. It’s nice to just take what you need and know that he’s enjoying it just as much as you are. When you ask him (read: tell him) to add a finger, he does it without question. For someone that always seems to have a retort for everything, he’s surprisingly quiet now. Nothing piercing the quiet of the room apart from the constant stream of moans from both of you and curses from you as you get closer to your second orgasm. 
The second one hits a lot harder than the first, a fact that you wouldn’t really want to admit to Jeonghan. It’s too obvious to hide, though. You don’t even care. Jeonghan’s tongue is far better than anything you could have dreamed about. Not that you were dreaming about it. (And not that you ever got yourself off in the shower or in your bed, late at night, thinking of the annoying guy who wouldn’t ever seem to leave you alone. Absolutely not.) When you open your eyes again, you find Jeonghan looking at you with awe. There’s nothing smug about his look. It makes your insides go even a little mushier. It’s definitely not the time for those kinds of emotions. 
“Wow,” is all Jeonghan says. 
“Yeah,” you agree. 
“Do you still want to…? I mean, can we still…” he starts.
“Jeonghan, do I make you feel that nervous?” you joke. “You just ate me out and made me come all over your face.” 
He shrugs. “I just don’t wanna press my luck.” 
“Maybe we just stop here then,” you say with a return shrug. “I’m not sure you want it enough.”
“Oh, no, I definitely want it,” he disagrees.
“Are you sure?” you taunt. “Sure you can handle it?” 
That unleashes a side of Jeonghan you haven’t fully seen yet. The next moment, he’s begging you for your pussy. Begging you to show you how much he still wants you. Begging to make up for the fake that he came in his pants just at your touch. Just begging for anything and everything. He even goes as far as to say that he’ll do all the work. It shouldn’t be working for you. It’s kind of lame, the way he just can’t seem to stop himself from running his mouth. And, unfortunately, it’s working for you. You kiss him just to make him stop. 
The kiss immediately turns into something desperate, but you’re not sure which one of you takes it there first. Every new bit of him you get only makes you want even more of him. It’s kind of insane to think you weren’t even sure you liked him when it’s been so easy to fall into this. Jeonghan breaks the kiss and reaches over into his nightstand for a condom. Somehow, he manages to get it on in nearly record speed, despite his nerves about everything else. He doesn’t waste any time in positioning himself, either. You lie back when he spreads your legs open and seems a little drunk on the sight of you. You tap his side with your foot and he shakes his head clear of whatever he was thinking. 
Jeonghan lines himself up at your entrance and presses his tip in. You arch your back, moaning at the initial stretch. It’s immediately better than either of your fingers or his tongue. You wrap your legs around his waist to pull him in and it makes him snap into you in one swift movement. All you wanted was to be full and you squeeze your walls around him. Direct him to move. The two of you work together to figure out the right pace, knowing that neither of you is likely to last all that long. You’re both a little sensitive from everything in the lead up to this moment. Still, you revel in the way that Jeonghan rolls his hips into you. Appreciate the way that he nearly pulls all the way out before snapping back into you. Moan into the sloppy kiss when your mouths crash together. It’s hard to tell where your own whines start and his moans begin. The sounds all kind of blend together into some kind of weird harmony. 
Where Jeonghan was incredibly vocal when he was begging, he doesn’t seem to have a coherent thought to share now. Yet, his eyes never leave you. Like he’s trying to map each part of your body. It’s too fast for him to learn what you actually like. That’s not what you need, not right now. What you need is to have another release, one that comes at the same time as his own. And that’s exactly what you get when you come hard again just as you feel his thrusts stutter. A moment later, he’s coming into the condom and eventually stilling inside of you. 
The last thing you want is to feel the loss of him inside of you, but you understand that he has to pull out. His breathing is heavy when he rolls over onto his back. It’s clear that he doesn’t want to get out of bed. That it’s a struggle. But, he gets up to dispose of the condom and you hear water running in the distance. He returns a moment later with a wet cloth and starts gently washing you without even asking. He tosses the cloth on his dresser and then collapses back on the bed next to you. Pulls you into his body without a second thought.
“I don’t want to go anywhere,” you say softly while you’re nestled into him. 
“Like I would let you leave,” he says just as softly.
“Oh, the man that begs for my pussy is going to force me to stay?” you challenge. 
You feel the way his chest slightly rumbles with laughter. “I was hoping you’d let me live for a second.”
“After you not letting me live since we met? Fat chance,” you answer.
“I suppose I deserved that,” he says.
“I really don’t want to leave tonight, though, so hopefully you have more clothes to lend me,” you say.
“You’re gonna have to let me move for that,” he says in return.
“Worst offer I’ve gotten all day, but fine,” you agree and allow him to disentangle from you. 
Once he offers you some clothes, you also get up from the bed to get dressed. Try not to ogle Jeonghan too much as he does the same. He catches you, because of course he does, but surprisingly doesn’t say anything. Only smiles back at you. You help him remake the bed before the two of you go back out into the living area. It occurs to you that you didn’t exactly let your roommate know what you were up to before just heading straight over to see Jeonghan.
A fact that is immediately obvious when you see the texts and missed calls on your phone. Oop.
“Hey,” you call out to Jeonghan. “My roommate, I’m sure you remember him…”
“Yeah, Seungkwan, right?” he asks.
“Yeah, he’s freaking out because I forgot to say I was coming over here,” you say. “I’m just gonna call him really quick to let him know I’m fine and I’ll see him tomorrow.”
“Do you want privacy?” he asks and you just laugh lightly.
“Not sure I need it,” you say and the phone is already ringing. Seungkwan answers nearly immediately.
“What the fuck? Are you okay?” he asks instead of saying hello.
“Chill, Kwan, I’m fine,” you answer. 
“Where are you? Your class ended hours ago,” he says.
“Has it been hours?” you ask with some amount of surprise. 
“Wait, where are you?” he asks again, sounding calm but skeptical now. 
“I just…just don’t worry about me for the night, okay? I’ll be home tomorrow,” you say. 
“Switch to video, you whore,” Seungkwan says skeptically.
“Don’t be a weirdo,” you retort.
“Come on! Turn on your camera!” he yells and you pull the phone away from your ear.
“Fucking fine,” you grumble and press the button on your phone before holding it back up to your face.
“I KNEW IT!” he shrieks gleefully. “Who’s shirt is that?”
“Oh, well, it’s…” you stall and look over at Jeonghan. He’s already moving toward you.
“Well?” Seungkwan prompts as Jeonghan leans over behind you so his face shows in the camera.
“It’s mine,” Jeonghan answers and Seungkwan looks like Christmas came early.
“Well, hello Jeonghan,” he says. 
“I promise to take good care of her and send her back in one piece,” Jeonghan says and Seungkwan can’t contain his grin.
“Keep her as long as you like. I’m about to be so rich,” he says, far happier than he should be.
“Goodbye Seungkwan. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say and hang up before he can say anything. 
Once you hang up, Jeonghan gives you an odd look. Like he’s trying to figure out what Seungkwan just said.
“Do I…want to ask?” he finally asks.
You sigh. “Seungkwan started placing and taking bets about me sleeping with you as soon as I mentioned you.” 
“And when was that?” he asks, seemingly not even surprised by the bets. You internally curse.
“After the very first class when you mentioned you joined because you like Legos,” you admit. 
“We could have saved so much time,” he whines and you just shake your head.
“This is exactly how it was supposed to go,” you disagree.
“Maybe,” he concedes. “Should we get some sleep? We can figure everything else out in the light of day.”
“Sounds perfect,” you agree and follow him to bed. 
It’s far easier than it should be to settle into bed with him. Like you’ve done it a million times before. Maybe it’s okay to allow yourself to have the things you want. Maybe this can all be as easy as attaching one block to another until you have something amazing. 
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i hope you liked it! and like i said, i'll be back to fix any spelling/grammar errors after the weekend.
taglist: @newjihoonie, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizon, @klecksstorys, @sunflowergyeomie, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @harry-the-pottypus, @okiedokrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @gyuhao365, @jjin-kun, @divinityyy, @dibidibidismynameisleeknow, @jelly-n , @christinewithluv, @hipsdofangirl, @sana-is-ms-rmty, @lllucere, @vixensss, @soffiyuhh @aidanjoon, @hanniebub, @stormy1408, @lilifiedeans, @hyucksrealm, @joshuaslv, @tinkerbell460 (strikethrough means can't tag)
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softspiderling · 2 months ago
Text
can i go (where you go?) | j.v
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summary:
“Hey, it’s me.”
After a short beat, you opened the door to look at him, your hair wet around your shoulders, water droplets wetting his shirt you were wearing. Despite the early morning hours, Jace felt a some rush of excitement running through him seeing you standing in his shirt in his bathroom.
“You good?”
“I think I just met your brother,” you said lightly, your cheeks pink.
OR; 5 times Jace’s family meets you (and the one time you meet them)
pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader
warnings: just incredibly tooth rotting fluff. i’m actually in love with them. in this modern universe, Alicent is married to Rhaenyra’s younger brother Baelon, Rhaenys and Viserys aren’t related, and Addam and Alyn aren’t Corlys’ sons. I think I solved the inbreeding, lol. Also, Harwin and Rhaenyra are happily married <3 (there will probably be more fics in this universe🤭)
word count: 7,2k (HOW)
author’s note: everyone knows i love a good 5 + 1 fic. this was born out of @eldrith and me just coming up with modern au headcanons and modern!jace consuming my thoughts at work. happy happy reading, I hope you're obsessed! <3
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
I Luke
“Jace… Hey, Jace.”
Jace let out a groan, burowing deeper into the cushions, hoping to drown out the voice.
“Jace!”
Someone grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him violently and Jace groaned, his eyes fluttering open just to see his brother peer down at him, his damp hair plastered against his forehead. Jace knew it was entirely too early for him to be awake with the way his body still felt too heavy. He glared at Luke, his annoyance clear as day.
“Luke, what the fuck.”
“Hey, I’ve just come from the gym, the showers in my dorm were blocked off because a pipe burst, can I shower here?”
Jace whined, turning his head to face the pillow, hoping it would smother him. Anything to be unconscious again.
“Couldn’t you just have showered at the gym?”
“I have a class at 10,” Luke replied, as if that answered the question.
It didn’t.
Jace didnt react, hoping that Luke would just leave if he feigned falling back asleep, but Luke grabbed him by the shoulders again.
“Jace.”
“Oh my god, just go use the shower, you’re here already!”
“Thanks, you’re the best!”
The mattress dipped again and footsteps receded before Jace was finally alone again, falling back into a slumber.
Wait, had he been alone?
He could distinctly remember you coming home with him the night before but the bed was empty when Jace reached his hand out looking for you. You must have snuck out in the early hours of the day. Jace would definitely confront you about that as soon as he was awake enough to do it.
Just as he was about to drift back to dream land, a high pitched squeal woke him right up, and he shot up in bed, wide awake.
“Oh my god, I am so so sorry!”
A door slammed, hurried footsteps came towards his bedroom before Luke barged through the door with wild eyes; shutting it behind him.
“There’s a girl in your bathroom!” He said, his voice accusatory as he glared at Jace, with his back against the door. Luke’s cheeks were red, and Jace wasn’t sure if it was the remaining flush from the gym or because he was embarrassed.
Jace only blinked at him, before wiping his palm over his face.
“Fuck.”
Luke frowned at him. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”
“She’s not-“ Jace broke off, sighing. “It’s not important.”
He got out of the bed, shooing Luke away from the door and padded towards his bathroom, trying to make sure his younger brother hadn’t completely scared you off. The bathroom was locked and Jace leaned against the doorframe, rapping his knuckles against the door.
“Hey, it’s me.”
After a short beat, you opened the door to look at him, your hair wet around your shoulders, water droplets wetting his shirt you were wearing. Despite the early morning hours, Jace felt a some rush of excitement running through him seeing you standing in his shirt in his bathroom.
“You good?”
“I think I just met your brother,” you said lightly, your cheeks pink.
The corner of Jace’s mouth tugged up and he flexed his hand around your waist, pulling you closer. Luke was lucky he met you so early in the day, your temper still subdued from sleep. Had it happened in the afternoon? Luke would’ve gotten an earful.
“Are you okay? I can make him leave if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“No it’s fine,” you huffed, hiding your face in his shoulders. “I was not prepared to meet him.”
Jace wrapped his arm around your waist, leaning his chin on your head with a grin. “You don’t have to be prepared to meet Luke. You just meet him and go “what a dork”, there’s not much else after that.”
“Yo!” Luke crowed outside. “I heard that!”
“You were supposed to!”
“Can I just take a shower please!!!”
Jace rolled his eyes, his hand dropping down to lace his fingers with yours. “Come on, I’ll make you a coffee.”
He pulled you into the kitchen, turning his coffee machine on, meanwhile hearing Luke flee into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. By the time his younger brother emerged again, his hair towel damp, you and Jace were sitting on the couch with a bowl of cereal in hand, your feet in Jace’s lap.
Luke stood in the door way like a deer in headlights as you and Jace looked at him.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” you said lightly; Jace only snorted into his bowl.
“Sorry again… About earlier. I’m Luke,” Luke said, rubbing the back of his neck, but you only waved it off as you introduced yourself. Luke glanced between the two of you, the wheels in his head must be turning a mile a minute. Jace did not look forward to whatever he was going to say.
“So… Are you guys like going steady?”
You pulled a face and Jace only sighed. Of course he chose to be a dick.
“Get out.”
Luke grinned, having expected the reaction. “Kay. Thanks for letting me use your shower,” he called over his shoulder, “Bye Jace, bye shower girl!”
The door fell shut in its hinges and Jace welcomed the silence that followed.
“I should’ve never given him the spare key,” he muttered, but you only pressed your heel into his leg.
“Stop it, he’s sweet.”
“He’s a menace.”
“He’s your little brother,” you laughed, pushing your empty bowl on the coffee table. “He’s supposed to get on your nerves, it’s literally in the job description.”
His bowl soon joined yours on the table as Jace wrapped his hand around your wrist, pulling you into his lap. You grinned at him, tucking his hair behind his ear, as he played with the hem of his shirt you were wearing.
“I like that you feel comfortable enough at my place to take a shower,” he mumbled, nosing along your neck.
“Shut up.”
II Rhaena
“Man, that was way too close,” Addam groaned as they walked into the locker room. Their game against the Stags of Stormlands University had ended with 2:1, which was criminal. It should’ve been at least 3:1 and Jace wasn’t even being arrogant. That one goal they scored against them was pure luck.
“Coach is gonna be on our asses during the next practice,” Alyn said as he tugged off his jersey.
“As if he needs a reason to make us run suicides,” Cregan pointed out and Jace shrugged.
“It wasn’t entirely our fault, though. The audience was crazy today. What happened after half time? There was some commotion in the stands.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t believe it,” Alyn snickered. “Apparently some girl punched Criston square in the face after he made some of his usual comments.”
“What?” Addam asked, his eyebrows risen as Jace only laughed.
“No way. That girl’s my hero.”
“I’m buying her a drink,” Cregan declared. “Do we know who it was?”
Alyn shook his head in no. “Nah, I just overheard some guys talking about it…” he then turned to Jace. “You coming to the bar with us?” Alyn asked. “My treat.”
“I can’t,” Jace replied, but before he could elaborate, Cregan wrapped his arm around his shoulder, squeezing him.
“Lover boy is meeting his girlfriend, he told me all about it.”
Jace’s cheeks tinged pink and he shoved Cregan off, huffing.
“Fuck off.”
“Leave him alone,” Addam said lightly from the bench, untying his shoes. “If I had another choice, I wouldn’t go to the bar with you either.”
“Thank you Addam,” Jace said, giving Alyn and Cregan, who were snickering to themselves, a pointed look. He grabbed a towel and his shower caddy from the locker, turning back to his friends.
“Have fun at the bar. I’ll see you guys around.”
Jace ignored how they made kissy sounds after him, rolling his eyes at them fondly. After taking a quick shower, and getting dressed, he made his way to the spot you had agreed to meet him. He passed a few familiar faces who congratulated him on the win, but he made no attempt to stay in a conversation too long, not wanting to keep you waiting. When he got to the gates of the football field, you were nowhere to be found though. Maybe you were held up by your friends. Jace shot you a text, telling you where he was, then pulling up his family group chat. His parents and Joffrey had gone hiking over the weekend, but his dad had received updates on the game via the uni’s newsletter, both of them sending him well done’s. Luke had watched the game with his friends, and Jace had no doubt he was now at the same bar his team mates were headed to. Jace then pulled up the text chain with you, but his texts to you went unanswered. With a sigh, he opened Find my..? frowning when he saw your icon float over the building that held the student med center.
“What the hell?” he muttered to himself, shoving his phone into his pocket, walking to the student med center in quick strides. The building was dark when he arrived, but the door was unlocked when he pulled on it. Jace stood in the dark for a while, his eyes adjusting to the lack of light, when he heard voices coming from somewhere. Following the sound, he reached the examination room, the voices becoming more distinctive.
“-never punched someone, why has no one ever told me that it hurts so much? He’s the one who should be hurt, not me!”
“You’d be surprised. You can actually break something while punching someone.”
Jace paused in the doorway, watching as you sat on the bed, ice pack in your hand, while another girl was rummaging in the cupboards with her back to him. You looked up when he called your name, and the smile on your face nearly made him forget how worried he was.
“Hey,” you said, “Rhaena, this is my-“
“Jace?”
Of course it was Rhaena. Out of all the student meds, it had to be his cousin tending to you. You glanced between them your eyebrows high.
“You guys know each other?”
“Rhaena is my cousin,” Jace explained, distracted, his focus on your hand. “What happened?”
“Supergirl over here punched Cole in the face.”
“Criston Cole?”
“The one and only.”
Jace sighed, sitting down next to you to lift the ice back from your knuckles, frowning when he found them bloody.
“She’s bleeding!”
Rhaena rolled her eyes, holding up some gauze and disinfectant spray. “Yes, I was looking for the gauze, thanks for reminding me.”
Jace frowned as Rhaena sat on your other side.
“This is probably gonna sting,” she warned you, before spraying disinfectant on your wounds, but you winced anyway. Jace watched as Rhaena patched you up, the frown on his forehead not easing.
“Alright, we’re all done,” Rhaena said, balling up the wrapper. “I want you to keep that ice pack on for twenty minutes, it can reduce the swelling. And maybe try to keep it elevated, and lots of resting!”
“Okay,” Jace said, matter of factly.
Both you and Rhaena looked at him - you looking amused, while Rhaena looked exasperated - and he only shrugged.
“What? You know damn well you’re not gonna do anything she just said,” he argued and you grinned, turning to Rhaena.
“Duly noted, thanks Rhaena.”
“Alright, let’s get out of here,” Rhaena said, throwing the wrappers in the trash before shooeing you and Jace out of the building. As you walked outside, you and Rhaena seemed to be get along like a house on fire as Jace held your purse, and by the time you were standing out front, you had exchanged numbers.
“Hey, so really come by when I’m working, and I’ll treat you for a coffee,” you said while Rhaena locked up.
“Sure, that’ll be nice,” Rhaena replied, packing her keys away. “It was really nice to meet you.”
You beamed at her. “You too!”
His cousin smiled at you before turning to Jace. “I’ll see you Sunday?”
“Yep. Thanks Rhae.”
Jace gave her a hug, and she quickly hugged you as well, before waving in good bye.
“Bye, see you guys!”
“Bye Rhaena!”
Jace pulled you close as you walked, his forehead still creased. You were supposed to go out for dinner, but by now your reservation had probably fallen through, so Jace might as well just cook you dinner at home. He couldn’t help but glance at your hand, which you noticed immediately.
“Jace, I’m fine,” you insisted with a laugh, grabbing his hand to reassure him, but no dice.
“I know Cole is a pain in the ass, but why did you punch him?” he asked, his forehead creased. “You could get in trouble. And on top of that, you got hurt!”
“It’s just bruised knuckles and a little blood, it’ll be healed before you know it,” you promised him. “Besides, Cole had it coming. He was sprouting bullshit about how he should’ve made the team instead of you and was just being a dick.”
Jace froze mid step, and you were dragged back by him, not having expected the sudden stop.
“You were defending my honor?”
You glanced at him, lips quirking in a smile.
“I’ll always defend your honor.”
In that moment, Jace was so overcome with emotion, he thought he might do something stupid like tell you that he loved you, so he just pulled you into a deep kiss. You sighed softly against his lips, before you pulled back, looking at him in surprise.
“What was that for?”
“Can’t a guy thank his knight in shining armor?”
You snickered, lacing your hands with his.
“You can thank me by getting some food in me, I am starving.”
III Joffrey
“It’s nice here.”
The sun was shining, reflecting its rays over the surface of the water. It was rather still today, a stark contrast to the strong waves that usually lapped at the shore of Driftmark. The small coast town was only an half an hour drive from uni and since you had never been here before, Jace had decided to take you for an impromptu trip, armed with a blanket and some snacks, but not much else. The two of you were sat on said blanket, you sitting between his legs, head resting on his chest. Jace wished it could be like this forever.
“I can’t believe you’ve never been to Driftmark,” he said, amused. “My parents used to take us every weekend when we were younger. Luke and I used to fly kites, but his always fell nose first into the sand.”
You laughed, pressing yourself closer into Jace.
“That’s sweet,” you mumbled softly, your voice trailing off. “So how many girls have you taken here?”
Jace rolled his eyes fondly, his finger tracing your arm. If only you knew. He hummed, as if in thought.
“Let’s see, there was that one girl from Lambda Psi, then Jessica from my International Relations class…”
You laughed, squirming in his arms as you smacked his hand away.
“You’re an ass.”
He tightened his hold on you, a grin on his face. “You started it!”
Giggling, you settled back into him and Jace let out a happy sigh, but the moment was quickly interrupted by his phone ringing. He had half a mind to decline the call, but he paused when he saw the caller ID.
“Why is my mum calling me?” Jace said, frowning at his phone before picking up the call. “Hey mum, is everything okay?”
“Jace, thank god,” his mother sighed in relief. The background was noisy, if Jace had to guess, she must be at work. “My meeting is running longer than expected and I won’t be able to make it in time to pick up Joffrey from school, is there any way you could make the drive down here to pick him up?”
Jace glanced at his watch. It was almost 3 in the afternoon and on a good day, it took 25 minutes to get from Driftmark to Joffrey’s school in King’s Landing. But that meant, you’d have to tag along, because there was no way he’d make it in time for Joffrey’s school’s out if he dropped you off beforehand.
“… Mum, can you give me a second?”
His mother paused. “… Sure.”
He muted the call from his side and you had already turned around to face him, your eyebrows furrowed.
“What’s going on?”
“My mum is stuck at work and she asked me to go pick up my brother from school,” Jace started. “I’m not going to make it in time if we’ll make the drive back to Oldtown-”
“Jace, oh my god, it’s fine, let’s go,” you exclaimed, already standing up and collecting all the things you had brought.
Jace stared at you for a second, slack-jawed, before he dipped his head, smiling to himself. He quickly unmuted the phone call while he got to his feet.
“I’ll pick him up mum, it’s not a problem,” he said, while helping you put away the blanket with one hand.
“Thank you, Jace,” his mother said, her tone hesitant, like she was holding back a question, but before she could ask it, another voice called for her. “I’ll call the school and let them know you’re coming,” she said distractedly.
“Okay mum, thanks. Have fun at the meeting!”
Slipping his phone into his pocket, he turned to see you with everything packed.
“Come on, let’s go!” you hurried him, taking his hand to drag him to his car, missing the blinding smile Jace had on his face.
The drive to King’s Landing was quicker than expected, with the streets being free and Jace made it to Joffrey’s school right around 3:30, the cars from several other parents already lined up to enter the pick up zone.
“Are you okay waiting in the car?” Jace asked, turning to you, “I’ll be in and out in no time.”
“Yeah, of course,” you assured him, patting his knee.
Jace couldn’t help but lean over to press a kiss on your cheek, nearly missing his turn to find a temporary parking spot, but the security guard waved him along.
“Keep it moving, son.”
“Isn’t this the pick up zone for school?” Jace asked, unbuckling. “I can park here, right?”
The security guard eyed his license plate, before checking his clipboard. “Don’t see your license plate on my list, you gotta keep it moving.”
“You’re joking.”
The man blinked at him, clearly not joking.
“I only need to go in and grab my brother, it won’t even take five minutes,” Jace argued but the security guard shook his head, unrelenting.
“Can’t make an exception, rules are rules.”
Jace opened his mouth to try to make another argument, but behind him, the cars started to honk their horns at him, parents impatient to pick up their kids. Jace’s ears grew hot but before he could lash out at the security guard, you laid your hand on his arm.
“Jace, I can go get your brother.”
“Are you sure?” Jace asked, frowning. He felt bad for making you go along, ruining the day he had planned. You didn’t sign up for this and he didn’t want to make you go into a school full of kids to pick up his brother.
“Yes, I promise,” you said, a smile on your face as you squeezed his hand and he sighed, nodding.
“Okay.”
He gave you a rough description of the way inside the school and Joffrey’s classroom number, before you got out of the car, as Jace exited the pick up zone, but not without giving the security guard a dirty look. He drove around the block, parking his car next to the curb when his phone rang announcing a facetime from you.
“Hey, is something wrong?” Jace asked as he picked up. The screen was blurry, and you were barely visibly as you stared at something behind the camera
“Hey, no, Joffrey just wanted to make sure I wasn’t lying,” you said, distractedly. “Alright Joffrey.”
The camera panned away from you until Joffrey came into view. His baby brother looked sceptical, clutching the straps of his red backpack, but his frown eased when he saw Jace.
“Hi Jace.”
“Hi Joff,” Jace said, his voice soft. “I know mum was supposed to pick you up, but her meeting ran long so she asked me to get you. I’m waiting in the car, alright? Are you going to be okay walking with my friend?”
Joffrey looked off camera, assumedly at you before turning back to Jace, scrunching his nose. “Mummy said I shouldn’t go with strangers.”
“And she’s right!” Jace quickly interjected, knowing his mother would kill him if he unraveled all the things she had been teaching Joffrey ever since he was old enough to talk. “But this is my friend, right? Not a stranger.”
With a purse on his lips, Joffrey seemed to think his words over before nodding.
“Okay.”
Joffrey waved at him through the camera before looking up.
“Can we go now?”
Jace heard you suppress a laughter as the phone shook. Joffrey didn’t look phased.
“Yes,” you said. “Come on, let’s go.”
You offered your hand to him, before you quickly panned the camera on yourself again. “See you in a bit, Jace.”
The call ended and Jace quietly laughed to himself as he tossed his phone on the passenger seat, driving back towards the school. He didn’t wait long in front of the curb when you and Joffrey came walking out, you carrying his backpack and Joffrey carrying a booster seat.
“Alright, now let’s get your backpack in here-” you said, opening the door to put Joffrey’s backpack on the backseat, then scooching it over to put the booster seat on as well. “And then you go into the booster-”
“Hi Jace!”
Jace turned around, smiling as he watched Joffrey settle into his booster seat comfortably while you fussed over him.
“Hi Joff.”
“Okay, now the seatbelt… Is this too tight?” you asked as you buckled Joffrey in, but he shook his head. You gave him a thumbs up, before shutting the door behind him, climbing back into the passenger’s seat so Jace could pull away from the curb.
“How was school?” Jace asked Joffrey with a quick glance at him through the mirror.
“Good,” Joffrey replied, “We learned about shapes.”
He then fully launched into a retelling of how his classmates thought circles and triangles are the same and Jace meant to give you an apologetic look, but to his surprise, you seemed to be listening intently.
“No way! I bet his mind was blown when you told him about rectangles!”
“He thought I was lying!”
Jace quietly snickered to himself and you grinned at him, as Joffrey continued to babble on in the backseat. Without thinking much, Jace had started the drive back to Oldtown.
“Is it okay if I drop you off at home?” Jace asked, his voice quiet, even though Joffrey was humming a song that sounded vaguely familiar to Jace as he looked out of the window, content after telling you about his school day. “I think I’ll drive back to King’s Landing and spend the night at home.”
“Yeah, sounds good,” you said, smiling at him and Jace’s heart did a stupid flip in his chest. He reached over to squeeze your hand, forgetting about his brother in his backseat for a split second.
“What kind of friends are you?”
His neck grew hot and he almost reflexively pulled his hand back, but you tightened your hold.
“The bestest friends,” you said, turning around to look at him with the most serious expression you could muster. Joffrey pressed his lips together in an attempt to bite back a smile, but a giggle escaped his lips.
“Bestest is not even a word.”
“Well, I made it up because Jace and I are bestest friends.”
“You’re silly,” Joffrey laughed and you gasped, faking affront.
The rest of the drive continued about the same until Jace pulled up in front of your building. Your hand was on the door handle, but you threw a look to the back at Joffrey, clearly reluctant to go.
“Bye Joffrey, it was really nice to meet you,” you told him with a smile.
“Bye!”
Your eyes turned to Jace, who desperately wanted to kiss you, but he wouldn’t, not in front of Joffrey, so he only inclined his head at you, hoping you knew.
“Bye,” you said softly, cheeks pink as you got out of the car, shutting the door behind you.
“Bye!” Joffrey called, waving at you through the window until you disappeared inside your apartment building. His baby brother then turned to him, a smile on his face.
“I like her.”
Pleased, Jace settled back into his seat, putting the car back in drive, his eye on his brother through the mirror.
“Me too, buddy.”
IV Aegon
“I don’t get why you won’t just make it official when you’re obviously so into her.”
“Can we not talk about this?”
The music coming from inside was loud, but Jace wished it was louder so he didn’t have to talk about this. Of course he’d rather officially call you his girlfriend than… Whatever it was he was calling you right now. But it was complicated, the both of you starting out casually, no labels.
That was almost four months ago and things had changed. For him at least.
Cregan kicked his foot, forcing Jace to look at him.
“I’m serious, Jace. You’re insanely into her and she obviously likes you too.”
Jace pretended like hearing that didn’t make him happy, looking around for you.
“Where is she anyway?” Jace asked and Cregan only sighed at the obvious attempt of changing the topic.
“Last I saw, she and her foxy friend were trying to get drinks.”
Jace rolled his eyes, pushed himself up from the chair.
“I’ll go look for her,” he said, taking a few steps before turning back to his friend. “And don’t call Alysanne foxy.”
Cregan’s bellowing laughter made Jace grin, and he only shook his head, opening the patio door to head inside. The air was stuffy and smelt of alcohol, but he was used to it as he squeezed past a kissing couple, craning his head over the crowd to try to spot you somewhere in the crowded house. He usually didn’t like splitting up with you at parties because it was a pain finding each other again. You also had an habit to make so many friends in a short amount of time.
When Jace finally made it to the kitchen, he saw the back of your head and he let out a sigh of relief. His face blanched however, when he saw who you were talking to. Calling out your name, you turned around with a cup in your hand as he walked up to you.
“Jacey!”
His cousin grinned widely at him as Jace joined you and Aegon by the kitchen island, as you slotted yourself against his side. You seemed content, like you were enjoying yourself. Jace took that as a good sign.
“Hi Aegon,” Jace greeted him lightly, before turning to you. “I see you’ve met my cousin.”
“Rhaena‘s brother?” You asked, eyebrows raised.
“You met Rhaena?”
Aegon’s brows were even higher than yours as his eyes flitted between Jace and you curiously, sipping on his drink. Jace already knew this would make it into the cousins’ group chat in a matter of minutes.
“Aegon’s from the other side. Kind of,” Jace answered, pulling a face. “It’s complicated.”
You smiled at him and Aegon’s grin only widened. Jace wished he would disappear the way he always did when their grandpa asked for help in the garage.
“So how did you guys meet?” he asked, voice nonchalant. “You don’t look like a PoliSci student to me.”
“I’m not,” you replied, laughing. “Jace always gets coffee at the coffee shop I work at.”
“Oh, which one do you work at?”
“Blackwood’s, the one on 50th?”
Aegon’s eyes widened and he nodded his head quickly. “Yes, I know that one. Do you think you could give me the recipe for the almond croissants? I’ve tried recreating them so many times and they never turn out like the one’s at the coffee shop.”
“I can ask my friend, if you want me to,” you offered. “It’s her uncle’s coffee shop, he’s gotta have the recipe.”
“Oh and what about the syrups, are those-”
“Alright, this isn’t 20 questions,” Jace interjected, knowing there was no stopping Aegon if he started talking syrups. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, Aegon?”
Aegon pressed his lips together in a grin, shaking his head. “Fine, Jace, I’ll leave you guys alone. But only because I know I’ll have other opportunities to ask for recipes.”
Jace narrowed his eyes at his cousin, but he had turned his attention to you.
“Nice talking to you,” he said. “Maybe I’ll see you at one of our family events, yeah?”
“Bye Aegon.”
Jace could hear Aegon cackling to himself as he lead you away, his hand on your lower back. He was mortified. Out of everyone at this party, you just had to run into Aegon. To Jace’s luck however, you seemed mostly amused by his erratic cousin.
“I like him,” you said and Jace huffed out a laugh, shaking his head.
“You don’t have to lie. I don’t like him either.”
You snorted, shoving him playfully. “I’m not lying. He’s very outgoing, but I like him.”
Jace pressed closer to you as you made your way out of the pation and you turned your head over your shoulder, glancing at him.
“So is your entire family just enrolled here?”
“Basically, yeah,” Jace sighed, “The only cousin of mine who’s not at this uni is Daeron but apparently he’s transferring next term.”
“Well, I can’t wait to meet all of them.”
Jace let out a laugh, wrapping his arm around you when you finally made it out of the house, Cregan still sitting on the sun chairs, Alysanne next to him as they talked. Jace had wondered where you had left her.
TARGTOWERS 2.0
Aegon [01:21 am]: have y’all met jace’s new gf yet??
Jace left the chat.
Aegon added Jace to the chat.
Jace [02:04 am]: I hate you
Aegon [02:05 am]: <3
V Harwin
“If my husband doesn’t look like that like 25 years down the line, I definitely did something wrong.”
Jace only caught the tail end of the conversation, but knowing you and Alysanne, he wasn’t sure he even wanted to know what you were talking about. The two of you found the most bizarre things to talk about, it was astounding.
“What are we talking about?” he asked nevertheless, pulling out a chair next to you.
“There was this hot guy at the coffee shop earlier today, trying to find a good restaurant for dinner with his son,” Alysanne explained and you nodded.
“Super hot.”
“Wow, you really know how to make a guy feel special.”
You quirked a grin at him, leaning over to kiss him, your hand on his leg. Eagerly, Jace returned the kiss, deepening it which might be a tad inappropriate for the library, but he didn’t care. He never did when it came to you.
“Eurgh,” Alysanne said, rolling her eyes. Jace paid her no mind, already used to her antics, but you pulled away before it could any less PG13.
“Hi,” you mumbled, licking over over lips and Jace resisted the urge to kiss you again. “Am I seeing you tonight?”
“I might come over a little later than usual,” he said with a sigh, playing with the straps of your top. “Luke said he wanted to meet me for dinner.”
“Can you guys please go to Jace’s?” Alysanne interjected “I’d really love to have one night without hearing you guys have sex.”
“Oh come off it, Aly,” you laughed, swatting at your friend and she snickered. “You’re literally on the other side of the apartment and we barely hang out at our place.”
Alysanne stuck her tongue out at you and you only flipped her off before turning back to Jace.
“So eleven?”
“Yeah, sounds about right,” he said, nodding. “But I’ll text you, yeah?”
You hummed, and Jace pulled your chair closer to his, almost forgetting he had come to the library to study for a test. Next to you, Alysanne was rolling her eyes but he could tell that she was pleased by the way she let her hair fall over the side to give you privacy.
Well, as much privacy there was in a university library.
“How did you find out about this place anyway, dad?” Jace asked, reaching for his beer.
Turned out, Luke didn’t want to get dinner. Their father did. He had a work thing in Driftmark and decided to make it to Oldtown for a quick visit, surprising Jace. His dad felt bad for missing Jace’s first game of the season; he had always made it to Jace’s first game of the season ever since he started playing football when he was 7 years old. It was like an unspoken tradition.
Harwin Strong was a man of tradition and loyalty, and even though Jace had promised him it wasn’t that much of a deal, he had felt guilty either way.
“This nice girl at the coffee shop recommended it to me,” his father said, and Jace nearly spat out his beer all over the table. So it must have been his father you and Alysanne had been talking about earlier in the library. God really loved to play games with him.
“What coffee shop?” He asked as nonchalantly as possible. Maybe it was just a coincidence, right? There were lots of coffee shops in Oldtown.
“Blackwood’s I think? She said this was her boyfriend’s favorite restaurant,” his father explained, glancing over the menu. Jace’s heart stuttered in his chest at the word boyfriend before his father grimaced. “Well, she paused between boy and friend. It seemed like there was more to the story but I didn’t want to pry.”
“How funny,” Luke said, peering over his menu. “This is Jace’s favorite restaurant, too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Jace pressed out, glaring at his brother while kicking him in the shins.
“Ow!”
“Boys, please.”
Jace and Luke exchanged dirty looks, before turning their attention back on their menus.
“You know what I don’t understand?” his father started, but Jace interrupted him before he could continue.
“The steak sizes are their thing, no one actually orders the 14 oz steak.”
His father furrowed his eyes at him, confused.
“What? No, I’m going to order the fish,” he said, shaking his head. “What I was trying to say is, what is it with your generation and casual dating?”
Jace’s ears grew hot and Luke howled in laughter, nearly falling off the chair. His father glanced between them.
“Did I miss something?”
“No,” Jace said pointedly in Luke’s direction before turning back to his father. “I’m not saying that casual dating is good, or whatever, but sometimes it’s… Complicated.”
“Complicated?” his father echoed. “Either you love someone or you don’t. When I first met your mother, I knew immediately that she was the one for me. I wasn’t going to waste my time on casually dating her.”
“That sounds really smart,” Luke said, nodding earnestly, but Jace only rolled his eyes. What an idiot. “Sounds like something a lot of people our age should do.”
“How was Econ 101, Luke?” Jace asked, his voice low and Luke narrowed his eyes at him.
“Wimp!”
“Narc!”
“So!” their father said, clearly ignoring their exchange, laying his menu down as he looked at his two eldest sons. “Are there any people in your life I should meet, Jace?”
Jace only sighed, leaning back in his chair while Luke burst out in laughter again.
“Dad, come on.”
+ I
You had been quiet for the most of the drive, which made Jace nervous. You hadn’t been his girlfriend long before his grandpa’s birthday rolled around. Actually, Jace had finally broke down and asked, begged, you to finally go out with him for real the night he got home from dinner with his father and Luke. Something about the way his father spoke about him and his mother just made Jace realize he hated this unlabeled, uncertain situationship he had with you. He wanted something real.
He was scared shitless when it took you a good minute to reply God, it took you long enough!
About a month later, his mother had texted him about the plans for his grandpa’s birthday and he had decided it was about time you met his family. You had met most of them already anyway.
“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” you suddenly said, eyes darting outside the window.
“What? Why?” Jace said, glancing over at you. He had half a mind to stop the car, but it was less than 2 minutes before he’d be home.
“I don’t know if I’m ready.”
“Babe.”
“What if they don’t like me?”
Despite being one turn away from his house, Jace pulled up to the curb, turning off his car. Uttering your name softly, he reached over to grasp your hand.
“You don’t need to worry, I promise,” he assured you. Your hands were clammy, you must be so much more nervous than he had initially thought, which was endearing, really. “You’ve already met most of them, remember? And they all love you.”
“So far,” you corrected him and he sighed in exasperation, giving you a fond smile.
“You’ve already met the worst person in my family and Aegon still spams our groupchat with pictures from the pastries he’s baking with the recipes you gave him. The rest of my family is harmless compared to him.”
You quirked a smile at him, letting out a deep breath.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” Jace hummed, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He squeezed your hand, not letting go as he started his car again. Even when you walked up to the front porch, past all the cars in the drive way, you were still holding onto his hand, like a lifeline in a storm.
It didn’t take long until the heavy wooden door opened, and Luke stood before them, grinning.
“I was wondering when you guys would get here,” he said, turning to his side. “Mum, it’s Jace and his girlfriend!”
“Thanks for that, dummy,” Jace hissed, punching Luke’s arm as he passed him. Luke winced in pain, glowering at his older brother, waving at you with a smile. Jace lead you through the entry hall into the living room when Joffrey came running around the corner, latching himself to your legs as he called out your name.
“Hi Joffrey,” you laughed, ruffling the young boy’s hair. “How are you?”
“So good!”
Your nerves seemed to calm as you chattered away with Joffrey, having dropped Jace’s hand for his brother’s, but Jace didn’t mind. Your feet came to a slow stop however, when you reached the living room.
His mother was fixing up the flowers on the table, beaming when she saw you come in.
“Jace!”
“Hi mum.”
Jace hugged his mother in greeting, before taking your hand. “Mum, this is-”
“Oh, welcome to the family,” his mother said, pulling you into a hug as well, surprising you as you let out a laugh.
“It’s so nice to meet you!” you said shyly, smiling at his mother when she pulled away to look at you.
“And you! I have been waiting for the day Jace finally introduced us! I just knew that he was with a girl when I asked him to pick up Joffrey,” she said, shaking her head fondly. “He was so defensive when I tried to ask for details.”
“Mum,” Jace protested and his mother only waved him off.
“Your father must be wrangling with your cousins in the kitchen… Honey, Jace and his girlfriend are here!”
“I’m coming!”
His father walked into the living room with a strawberry cake in his hand, a smile on his face when his eyes laid on you, before turning to Jace, then back to you, realization dawning on him.
“That’s the boyfriend?”
You flushed, nodding with a laugh.
“Yes.”
His father only shook his head, giving you a brief hug before glancing at his son.
“I taught you better, son.”
“I know dad,” Jace sighed, ducking his head when his father reached out to ruffle his hair.
His mother seemed confused, though it didn’t help when his cousins and Luke tumbled out of the kitchen, bickering. As usual.
“- stop it! You’ll ruin the cake!” Aegon lifted the cake out of Baela’s grasp, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. “Oh, hey! Told you we’d see each other at one point!”
“Supergirl, how’s the hand doing?”
“Supergirl? She’s obviously shower girl.”
“… Do I even want to know?”
His mother glanced around the room, starting to connect the dots.
“Am I the only one who hasn’t met you yet?”
“I haven’t met her yet!”
The rest of his cousins rushed forward to introduce themselves and you nearly sank into a wave of white hair with Joffrey still hanging off your arm. You seemed to be doing well, though, Baela and Helaena laughing as Rhaena recounted the story of how you met and Aemond and Daeron trying to give you tips on how to punch someone without getting injured.
“I like her,” his mother said as she bumped his shoulder.
Jace’s chest warmed, though he shrugged. “You barely know her yet.” Even though he knew his family would like you no matter what, it felt good to hear it spoken.
“She seems to be handling herself well around your cousins and it looks like to me she already won half of them over,” his mother pointed out. “Most importantly, she makes you happy.”
“Wait, you punched Criston Cole? But I like him.”
“Of course you like him, Aegon.”
Your laughter rang out between the bickering, and you turned to catch Jace’s eyes, beaming at him. He smiled, ducking his head. God, he was so in love.
“Yeah.”
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
author's note: what are we thinking???
1K notes · View notes
navybrat817 · 11 months ago
Note
I wish I had a smitten Bucky. Just sees me and wants me. 🥺
I know the feeling, nonnie.
Check Yes or No
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky instantly falls for you, but waits to ask you out.
Word Count: Over 2.1k
Warnings: Fluff, could be seen as instalove on Bucky's side, attraction, slight insecurities, minor time jump, Alpine being the best, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I can't send Bucky your way, lovelies, so I hope you enjoy this short, surprise fic! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky wasn't looking for love the day he met you, but it found him anyway.
“Hey, Buck,” Steve greeted from his seat when he walked into the conference rooms and nodded to the spot beside him that you occupied. “I’d like you to meet our newest transfer. She’s also moving into the Tower.”
He was a changed man the moment your eyes met. Breathtaking was a word to describe you given how he had forgotten to breathe. He had witnessed many sunrises and sunsets in his life, a kaleidoscope of colors painted in the sky to both soothe and awaken the soul. They paled in comparison to the beauty before him.
One glance and he belonged to you completely.
“Hi, Bucky. It’s nice to meet you.”
While he wasn't sure if Heaven existed, you speaking his name was like hearing the voice of an angel.
“I’m Bucky.”
Of all the things he could've said, reiterating his name was what his mouth went with.
Instead of giving him a weird look or brushing him off when he scowled at himself, you smiled. “I look forward to us working together.”
Bucky couldn't tell you what the meeting was about that day, but he remembered the details about you. The way you leaned forward in your seat to pay extra attention when someone else spoke, also giving him an ample view of your chest before he reminded himself not to stare. The slight crease in your forehead when you jotted down an important note. And the soft giggle you let out when Steve cracked a joke.
He suddenly wished he was funnier.
“Have a good rest of the day, Bucky,” you said when the meeting ended.
Bucky didn't have to try to smile with you. It just came naturally. When you smiled back, it was easy to imagine what it would be like if you were his girl.
“You, too,” he replied, giving himself a mental victory for not screwing up his words this time. “Wait!”
You paused and looked at him expectantly. “Yeah?”
Bucky realized he had no reason to keep you from leaving. He just didn't want you to go. “Do you need help moving your stuff in?”
“I actually got my things moved in late last night, but thanks for the offer,” you replied, checking the time with wide eyes. “I'm so sorry. I have to go. I’m in 2L if you need anything!”
“Bye,” he called after you, turning in his chair to watch you go.
How did he miss you already?
Though Steve had a knowing look in his eyes, he graciously kept his mouth shut as he left the room. He reminded him an hour later that he wouldn't break any bylaws by asking you out. The punk somehow knew that you weren't seeing anyone.
Which made him happy.
While he appreciated Steve looking out for happiness, he still had to get his head on straight.
“Once I completely trust my own mind, maybe I will,” Bucky said, even though the stuff was already out of his head. He owed it to himself to take his time. And you.
Imagine his surprise when he found a note from you on his door the next day.
Hey, Bucky! Lunch on me today? Check YES or NO.
The lopsided grin on his face wouldn't go away when he read it again. You must've been interested in him enough to ask about him. How else did you know his apartment number? Why else would you ask him to lunch?
He nearly shouted “YES” in the hall before he came to his senses and simply checked the option before he returned the note to your apartment door.
When he met up with you later, he told himself it wasn't a date. It couldn't be, right? It didn't keep his heart from stopping when you answered your door. Dressed down and casual, you looked like an angel went to Earth just for him.
“Hey, Bucky,” you smiled. “Ready to go?”
He hadn't said much on the way to the cafe since he was too busy hanging on to your every word, but it was like he had known you for ages as you carried on the conversation. Your questions weren't invasive and you didn't seem to mind the occasional short answers. It was also the shortest meal of his life, over too soon for his liking, and he also refused to let you pay for his meal.
He wanted to show you that gentlemen still existed.
“Lunch again next week?” You offered.
“Sure,” he answered, his head spinning from giddiness.
But it wasn't a date.
It was time to change that.
Today was the day. Six months from the day he met you. Six months of chatting with you between missions and slowly getting to know you over weekly lunches. Six months of falling for you more and more each day and he finally worked up the courage to ask you out.
But falling was the easy part. Confessing was an entirely different story. He would either crash to the ground and hope his wounds would later heal or you’d catch him as he fell. No matter what, he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.
“Just like we practiced, okay?” Bucky asked.
“Meow.”
Alpine nuzzled her head against Bucky’s with a gentle purr when he huffed. She was his little partner-in-crime through and through. Like you, even though you didn't realize it, the little white ball of fur helped save him. He was fairly certain he wasn't supposed to bring her to this floor, but any reprimand would be worth it.
Besides, the Tower, office, anywhere they operated should allow them to have their pets with them, especially for emotional support.
“I'm counting on you,” he teased, placing the folded up piece of paper in her mouth. “Go.”
He peeked around the corner when he set Alpine down. The sun illuminated you from where you sat in the lounge, curled up in your normal spot on the sofa. You liked to relax there occasionally to read. He wondered what book you had with you today.
Thankfully, no one was around to disturb you.
Except for him.
“Alpine, is that you?” You asked when you looked up, closing the book as the cat approached you. While the feline was cautious of some, she warmed up to you immediately when you met and solidified that you were the one for him. “Whatcha got there? Where’s Bucky?”
His name spilling from your lips was still one of his favorite sounds.
He held his breath when Alpine jumped up beside you, opened her mouth, and dropped the paper in your lap. He immediately began to second guess himself when you unfolded it with a furrowed brow. Why did he think this was a good idea? Why didn't he just ask you like a normal guy?
To be fair, he hadn't been normal for some time.
“Will you go out with me? Check YES or NO. Love, Bucky,” you read out loud with a huge smile, which was enough to make his heart race. You giggled a moment later when Alpine bumped your hand, the soft noise making his stomach do a funny sort of flip. “Okay, okay. Let me get my pen out of my bag.”
Bucky exhaled a little as he moved to stand in the doorway. You didn't toss the paper away, so that had to be a good sign. He carefully kept himself from showing any outward emotion when you met his gaze, but his knees nearly gave out. His palms also began to sweat when you gave him a half smile.
Just when he thought you couldn't look more beautiful than you had the day before, you proved him wrong.
He ran a hand through his hair and hoped he looked halfway decent since he hadn't brushed it. But you commented a few weeks back that you liked it long when you saw an old photo, so he wanted to grow it out. He lost count of how many times he imagined your fingers in his hair
Maybe one day.
Watching you grab your pen, it was like he was drowning. The tide pulled him under as you made a mark on the sheet. His lungs burned when you handed it back to Alpine. He couldn't come up for air. He couldn't breathe.
Until you smiled again.
“Thanks, Alpine,” you said.
His cat gracefully walked back to Bucky and he swore he caught you trying not to giggle as she climbed up his leg. His heart hammered in his chest when he took the slip of paper from her mouth. Meeting your tender gaze, he couldn't bring himself to open it though.
After he told himself he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.
“Not going to see what my answer is?” You asked as he carried Alpine into the lounge.
“I want to,” he replied, sighing as he took a seat beside you. His cat was perfectly content to lay in his lap. “But I’m questioning if I did this the right way.”
The note you gave him for a simple lunch request may have been a small gesture in your eyes, but it meant the world to him. He thought by asking you out this way that he could give you something meaningful in return. Something that only the two of you shared.
That was all he wanted.
You turned toward him, your knee touching his. The small touch sent heat down his spine. “Open it and you’ll find out.”
He nodded, thankful that his vibranium hand didn't shake as he lifted the sheet. “Wait, let me say something before I do.”
The corner of your lip tugged as you tried not to smile. “Bucky-”
“I like you. I really like you. I have since the day we met. And I'm going to like you tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that,” he admitted in a rush, catching your sharp inhale as he looked into your eyes. “But I know my past isn't easy to deal with. If you just want to be a teammate or colleague, that’s okay. Just. Being a part of your life in some way is more than enough.”
Alpine lifted her head and looked between the two of you, as if she was waiting with baited breath to see what would happen next.
Bucky felt a crack in his heart when you didn't speak or react, his body slumping slightly into the couch. It was okay. He took a chance and told you how he felt. He wouldn't force you to reciprocate.
“Bucky?” You asked above a whisper, reaching over to help him unfold the paper. He gasped when he saw the checkmark beside “YES”, blinking rapidly to make sure you picked that box. “I really like you, too.”
“You do?” He exhaled, grasping your hand with renewed joy. He was careful not to squeeze too hard. Hurting you was the last thing he ever wanted to do.
“Yeah. Pretty much since the day I met you,” you admitted, glancing in your lap before you met his gaze again. He saw stars in your eyes. “And your past isn't your fault, Bucky. You aren't something to ‘deal with’, okay? You’re a good man. I can give you a whole list of reasons if you need it.”
Physically, Bucky’s body was in peak condition. Your confession, however, caused all of the air to leave his lungs and made him weak in the best possible way. A familiar warmth moved through Bucky’s veins as he breathed again and it dawned on him at that moment that he hadn't felt cold since you walked into his life.
Not once.
Your faith in him gave him strength. Your mere existence gave him the courage to try. And he didn't have to go it alone.
“Wow,” he breathed, relieved and elated as he gave you a small smile. “How about tomorrow night?”
“It’s a date,” you smiled.
“Great,” he smiled back. A date. He couldn't wait to see the look on Steve's face when he told him that he finally asked you out.
“And I think the note was purrfect,” you teased at Alpine before you scrunched up your face. “I ruined the moment, didn't I?”
Bucky brought your hand to his mouth, kissing it as gently as he possibly could. He could hear your heart race. So was his. “Not at all.”
He knew it was too soon to say he loved you and it was likely too soon for you to feel that way about him, but he felt hope in your smile that you would one day.
For now, he had a date to plan all because you checked “yes”.
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We know it'll be the best date ever, right? Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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onlymingyus · 5 months ago
Text
give it to me
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pairing;  jeon wonwoo x f!reader
genre; smut (minor dni), angst, toxic, fluff
summary; From the outside looking in your life is perfect. It's the perfect ones who are the most fucked up and have the most to lose, or so you thought.
dark/content warnings; murder, kidnapping, talk of abuse, talk of solicitation, illusion to sexual abuse, wonwoo is not a nice guy for a large part of this fic -- hitman!wonwoo, kidnapper!wonwoo, ransom negotiations, corrupt business world, seedy gang/mob underworld, crying (pain and mental pain), depression, fucked up family dynamics, yn has parents/parent death mentioned, police, dead bodies, blood, guns, lying, eating/drinking -- i am sure there is more, this fic can be a lot. please consider the warnings before you read. 
smut warnings; unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, oral (m receiving), begging, crying (pleasure), olfactophilia/mysophilia (panty sniffing), grinding, petnames
w/c; 22k and some change (980~ bonus on patreon only) 
a/n; thank you to my @junkissed for proofreading this for me! i know i am on a dark fic kick. thank you all for going along on this ride with me -- perhaps you might catch some easter eggs 🤫 -- i really hope you enjoy this one.
before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here
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“Stop pouting.” 
You throw a contemptuous glare towards Wonwoo from the rearview mirror as he sits in the passenger's seat. He was a handsome man with strong features that made you both nervous and furious. He had been assigned to your personal security by your father in the past week after some changes and discoveries with your previous bodyguard had come to light. 
While you didn’t care who watched over you, it was important to your father, who was by his daughter’s side. You had no assumptions that it was because he loved you; no, it was more that you were the heiress of his multimillionaire dollar stock trading company and his only living child. 
“I don’t want to go.” 
Shaking his head, Wonwoo glances down at his phone to see a text message from your father, only to let out a sigh. He knew you didn’t want to go; you had been telling him that all day. You were a brat. You were every bit the part of Mr. Y/L/N’s daughter and he could tell that you lived a very charmed life. Rarely were you told no, and the times you were, you threw a fit. 
“It doesn’t matter if you don’t. Today isn’t about you, Y/N. It’s about your father, but you are well aware of that. We’ve talked about it enough times today. Stop pretending that you don’t like attention.” 
Rolling your eyes, you lean your head back as Wonwoo talks down to you. You hated him. He was worse than any other bodyguard that your father had put in his place. He was strict and he degraded you. Your last bodyguard was a sweet man who would let you sneak out and get laid, but Wonwoo was an asshole who triple locked your door. 
“Fuck you. You don’t know me. Stop acting like you do. God, I can’t wait for you to get fired.” 
Smirking, Wonwoo glances at you in the rear view mirror, letting his eyes move over your pretty features as the car comes to a stop outside of the venue. The flashes of cameras already make him feel anxious, but he has started to get used to it. They weren’t looking at him, they were looking at you. 
“That’s sweet, Princess. I don’t want you to like me. They want you to like them.” Wonwoo gestures his head towards the window, drawing your eyes to where people are falling over one another to try to catch a glimpse of you. “Your fans and daddy are waiting.” 
Reaching for your door, you pull on the handle, instantly feeling frustration take hold of you when it doesn’t budge. Glancing back at you, Wonwoo grins before opening his door and moving to yours. Opening it from the outside with ease, the man looks down at you with a smug expression.
You hear your name yelled by several people and lights flash in your eyes before Wonwoo steps in front of the photographers, allowing you to step out of the vehicle. At least he was good for something. Meeting his eyes, you narrow yours for a moment before putting on a pretty, fake smile, letting him know he could move and allow your picture to be taken. 
Wonwoo stays on your left, his eyes watchful as he moves them from you to the crowd and back. He was good at what he did. He could feel the weight of his gun on his side, but he knew he wouldn’t need it, not even if someone did try something. His hands were more than enough to take care of them, but his gaze was deterrent enough. There was something dangerous, almost feral, about Wonwoo’s eyes that told anyone and everyone not to fuck with him, including you. 
Hearing your name, your father sighs and looks towards the double doors. Appearances were everything for him and you looked like you were worth every single penny he had spent on you. While you left much to be desired on the business front, at least he could count on you to look stunning on the front page of a magazine along with his last name. You could make his company's stocks climb by 3% with a smile on a good day, and today was a great day or at least your father wanted it to be. 
“Mm, Y/N, darling.” 
You keep your fake smile on your face, letting your father’s lips brush the corner of your lips before he takes your arm into his. His grip is a little too tight for your comfort, but at events like this, it always is. You hated business dinners. You despised talking to the business partners and their “handsome” heirs. None of them were attractive, no matter how many times your father told you to tell them they were. 
“I want you to meet two of my oldest friends, Hyong Songmin and Hong Jinyoung.”
Clenching your jaw, you glance at your father, knowing where this is going, before he squeezes your forearm to the point of pain and your eyes move to the two older businessmen. 
“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 
Wonwoo rolls his eyes watching you put on a face for the old men. He could tell you didn’t want to be there anymore than he did. Glancing at his watch, he sighs under his breath and purses his lips, listening to the conversations around him while keeping up the appearance of guarding you and your father. 
Reaching out to take your hand from your father, Hyong Songmin is just a bit faster than Hong Jinyoung. Your brow lifts out of curiosity at the two men and their obvious competitive nature before you laugh a bit awkwardly, feeling the older man’s lips brush against the back of your knuckles. 
“No, dear… the pleasure is mine. I wish my son Kihyun was here today, but at least I’m not the only one with a missing son.” 
Rolling his eyes, Jinyoung looks you over, almost appraising you, before he meets your father’s eyes and tilts his head like he’s considering a deal. 
“He’s not wrong. Joshua was, I quote, “just too busy with numbers” to attend today. I’m certain he would be ashamed to have missed the opportunity to meet you, Miss Y/L/N.” 
You had met Hyong Kihyun before and you had heard some rumblings about Joshua Hong, but you knew what this was really about. This was about your father, his company, and mergers. 
“What a shame... perhaps we can set up another time for my beautiful daughter to meet with either of your dashing sons in the near future. Dinner?” 
Gritting your teeth, you look in your father’s direction, meeting his eyes, only to feel his hand wrap back around your arm. 
“I’m so busy, Father. I’m sure that both of their sons are as well, no matter how large the dowry is.” 
Your father scoffs into a laugh upon hearing the two men laugh at your "joke.” Luckily for him, they had found it amusing, but he had not. Digging his fingers into your arm, your father’s eyes burn holes into your face before he looks towards Wonwoo, clearing his throat to get his attention. 
“My apologies, gentleman. My daughter has her mother’s tongue. Mr. Kim?” 
Lifting his brows, Wonwoo smirks at the name before he meets your father’s eyes, taking your arm when offered to him as your breath quickens. You watch as he leans closer to the bodyguard, whispering something into his ear, only for the man to meet your eyes and nod. 
“Now, where were we? Ah yes, planning dinners for our children. Mine needs a meal and a good night's rest today, but seeing as how your sons aren’t here…” 
You feel Wonwoo guide you towards the back of the banquet hall as your father turns his eyes away from you, distracting his guests. He was good at that, diverting attention from people and things he was ashamed of. That was the reason your mother wasn’t around anymore and no one ever asked why. That was why you were always leaving early if you spoke out of turn, like you did tonight. 
Tugging at Wonwoo’s grip, you feel his hand tighten around your wrist, but he never holds you to the degree that your father does. It never hurts, he always knows when to stop and that you will follow him anyway. 
“Leave it alone, Y/N. You didn’t want to be there anyway.” 
Learning against the wall, you sigh as Wonwoo looks out into the alleyway, waiting for the car to come into view. Glancing back at you, he lifts his brows, almost feeling sympathy for you, but what was there to feel sorry for? You weren’t the type of person that Wonwoo felt anything for. 
Pulling at your elbow, Wonwoo kicks the door to the noisy venue, leaning down to glance in the vehicle and nod at the driver. You hear him mutter a few words before you are ushered into the back, like always. You were used to this song and dance. Anytime you would embarrass your father, it didn’t matter who your bodyguard was, you were always sent back to your apartment and called later with a firm reminder of who you were and who you belonged to. 
So when the car turns in the opposite direction of your apartment, you furrow your brows and look towards the front seat, seeing the wide eyes of your driver. You didn’t know the man’s name; it had never seemed important until this moment. Today he looked scared and you weren’t sure why until he muttered something towards your bodyguard and his voice got louder, feeling the barrel of the gun against his side. 
“I don’t—okay!” 
Tears instantly threaten to well up in your eyes at the sight in front of you. Has your driver done something wrong? Was he a bad man? Has Wonwoo noticed something you hadn’t? Swallowing hard, you reach for your cellphone to do something, anything, when you hear Wonwoo’s tongue click in disapproval. 
“Give it to me. Now, Y/N. I won’t fucking ask again.” 
Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes, you see that dangerous look making your brows furrow. Seeing his outstretched hand, you whine and shake your head, realizing the situation was the opposite of what you had quickly deduced. Your driver had done nothing wrong. Wonwoo was doing this. You barely knew Wonwoo. He had been assigned to you for less than a week. 
“Wonwoo…” 
“Now!” 
The tears spill on your cheeks when Wonwoo yells at you. You put your cellphone into his hand and sit back in your seat before glancing towards both doors. Your mind goes back to when you arrived at the venue and how Wonwoo had to open your door from the outside. 
“Pull into this parking garage. Fuckin—why are you two making me repeat myself? Just do it!” 
You close your eyes, hearing your driver’s head hit the side of his door when Wonwoo forces the man’s head hard against it. The man lets out a painful sound, along with affirming words, as you feel the car take a sudden left and any light from outside is taken by the oppressive walls of the concrete parking garage. 
The moment the car is in park, you look around for a way to get out, but the sound of Wonwoo’s gun going off pulls your attention back towards him quickly. Meeting his eyes, your hands over your ears, you watch him speak, but you just shake your head until he grits his teeth and forces your hand from your head. 
“Fucking listen to me, Y/N. Be a good girl and I won’t have to hurt you.” 
Your eyes shift to the body of your driver slumped over the steering wheel and the panic rushes back through you, causing Wonwoo to jerk your arm once again. 
“You are worth more to everyone without a bullet in you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t. Do you understand me?” 
Pleading words fall from your lips just above a whisper as Wonwoo lets go of your wrist, leaning over the man in the driver’s seat. You hadn’t noticed the gloves that Wonwoo always had on until now. It took your brain being shocked into reality for things to sink in. Your door is locked from the outside. The gloves on Wonwoo’s hands. Was that his real name? Kim Wonwoo? 
Pushing the body with his knee, Wonwoo grunts and watches the body fall with a thud next to the car. It wasn’t ideal, but it would work. The parking garage was in a secluded part of town and it would take at least a few hours, if not a day for someone to stumble upon it. 
Looking into the rearview mirror, Wonwoo lifts his eyebrows at you as you tremble visibly. He knew you were scared. That was something you were feeling for once, and that made sense. All the times over the past week that he has seen you be unreasonably annoyed over simple shit made this even easier. 
“Let’s go for a drive, Princess.” 
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Rubbing at the mascara drying on your fingers, you feel the car come to a stop. Wonwoo sighs, his brows furrowing as he looks around at the empty parking garage and finally back at you. You hadn’t spoken since he had started driving, but he wasn’t complaining. He could hear you crying, your pathetic little whimpering as he drove, but that had been the most of it. You had been resigned to what was happening. You had been “a good girl,” and Wonwoo could give you a bit of credit for that. 
“Home sweet home, Y/N.” 
Looking up, you furrow your brows at the sight around you. This parking garage had clearly not been used in years, probably closer to a decade. The building itself is probably in similar, if not worse, condition. There was nothing about this that you wanted to call home, but as Wonwoo opened his door and moved to yours, opening it, the gun pointed in your direction, and you knew you didn’t really have much of a say. 
“Wh–why are you doing this? Did my father not pay you enough?” 
Scoffing, Wonwoo sighs, leaning back against the door as he waits impatiently for you to gather the train of your tight dress and slide towards him. 
“I thought you were supposed to be smart. Isn’t that what all those degrees on your office wall are for?” 
Your stomach twists at Wonwoo’s words as your high heels unsteadily meet the uneven concrete of the garage. Reaching out with his free hand, Wonwoo tugs you upward and keeps your body against his, letting the barrel of his gun rest against your abdomen as he walks with you. 
“This is ridiculous, Wonwoo. You’re throwing your life away, and for what? A paycheck—” 
Scoffing at your words, Wonwoo cuts you off with a look as he kicks open a heavy door to the stairwell. Obviously, the elevator wouldn’t work in a building like this. You whine at the idea of the stairs in your heels, your eyes searching Wonwoo’s as he shakes his head and digs the gun into your side. 
“You’re the one who’s ridiculous. You look ridiculous and you are acting pathetic. Walk!” Raising his voice, Wonwoo feels your body jerk in his arms before you do as he says and move forward up the stairs. “This isn’t about some stupid ass security job. This is about your daddy, and him paying for you. I was hired to take you, Princess.” 
You feel your knees buckle. Wonwoo’s fingers dig into your arm, lifting you back up as he rolls his eyes at your reaction. He figures you are playing the role of the grief stricken daughter, but in reality, you are fighting the urge between laughing and crying. Your father? Paying for you? Who was stupid enough to think that he would? 
Using his shoulder, Wonwoo pushes open the door to one of the many rooms before letting you stumble inside in front of him. You look around, your brows furrowing in confusion and you feel some disgust at the sight in front of you. You weren’t sure what you had expected. The rest of the building hadn’t given you the impression that any of the apartments would be in good condition, so seeing it firsthand shouldn’t be surprising. 
“Welcome home.” 
You give Wonwoo a look of contempt, making him laugh as he gestures towards a dusty couch with his gun. You didn’t want to sit on the couch. The first thought in your head was that the dress you were wearing cost thousands of dollars and that cleaning it would cost hundreds, but the look in Wonwoo’s eyes made you take a step in its direction. 
“He won’t pay you any money for me. If—listen, Wonwoo... if you let me go, I can pay you the money myself.” 
Sighing, Wonwoo lifts his free hand to his brows, rubbing hard as he watches you. He could see you hesitating to sit down. The way you were brushing at the couch with your fingers only to rub them together as if you were in pain. When you finally sit down, you look stiff and struggle to not let any of your skin touch the dusty material under you. 
“Doubt this is about what you can offer, sweetheart. Get comfortable, you are going to be here for a while. So stop acting like you are going to get the plague from some dust.” 
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Wrinkling your nose to the smell of rot, you force your eyes open. You hope that everything that has happened has been a bad dream. Instead, you open them to find things were worse than you remembered. Whining, you push against the leather couch, searching for a way out, only to find Wonwoo leaning against the door, his eyes on you. 
“How was your nap?”
It was interesting to see you like this, out of your element. Wonwoo had grown accustomed to seeing you prim and proper. Your outfits are always in perfect condition—not a hair out of place. Now you are starting to show signs of wear. You had grime on your cheek from falling asleep on the couch, which you hated so much. At least he had been nice enough to let you sleep somewhere soft. 
Rubbing at your cheek, you turn your eyes away from Wonwoo as you shake your head. You were stiff and uncomfortable. You had only fallen asleep out of exhaustion, not because you wanted to or because you were comfortable. The last thing you wanted to do was fall asleep around him. 
“I want to go home.” 
Nodding, Wonwoo runs his fingers along his palm. He knew what you wanted. You had told him many times before finally passing out for a few hours. He had slept off and on, but he was used to living like this. He was a light sleeper and with one movement from you, Wonwoo knew he would be on his feet, ready to put you back where you belonged. 
“And you know the answer to that. So stop fucking telling me. Tell me something different.” 
Biting at your lips, you blink back your tears, glancing over at Wonwoo again. He was so cruel. You try to imagine a world before today when you actually found him attractive and enjoyed pushing his buttons. The idea of it was terrifying now. You had no idea who you had been teasing. You had enjoyed pushing your bodyguards to their limits until you met Wonwoo. 
“You are such an asshole.” 
Wonwoo smirks, his thumbnail tracing the longest line in his palm as he looks over your face, even from a distance. Even with all that grime on your face, you were still beautiful. It was a pity that you were such a bratty bitch. 
“Thanks, I try. You’ve made it easy with your stunning personality.” 
Scoffing, you rub your arms, the chill in the air causing chill bumps to spread along your skin. Wonwoo watches you shiver, his brows furrowing, before he rolls his eyes and moves to his feet with a loud sigh. You watch as he moves to a duffle bag you hadn’t noticed before. Rummaging through it, he tosses a protein bar on your lap, followed by a bottle of water. 
“Eat, we are gonna be here awhile.” 
Your stomach growls at the idea of food. It had been hours since you had eaten anything substantial. Anytime before you would attend an event, you had a habit of skipping a meal in an attempt to make your dress fit better. Now you were mentally cursing yourself for the tradition. 
“I’m fine.” 
Shrugging, Wonwoo takes out his own bottle of water, tossing the cap down on the floor before tipping the bottle back on his lips. His eyes never leave your face as he swallows the water in large gulps until, finally, the last of the water is gone. 
“Suit yourself. I’m not going to force you to eat or drink, Y/N. But trust me, starving yourself won’t make you a martyr. No one cares that much.” 
Wonwoo’s words bite at your self esteem. You look down, your stomach turning as tears run down your cheeks. You knew he was right. Your father probably hadn’t realized you were gone yet, not if the person who had wanted you kidnapped hadn’t sent him a ransom note. Even if they had, your father would keep it quiet until he couldn’t. 
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The dinner had ended a few hours ago and your father had already started nursing his headache in typical fashion, a glass of brandy in his hand from the moment he stepped into his house. You had disappointed him. He wished that just once you could attend a business function with him, put a smile on your face, and keep your mouth shut. 
Luckily for him, both men he had hoped would be interested in his proposition had left him with some hope for the future. You hadn’t completely fucked up everything he had been working for. Out of the two men, your father hoped that Hong Jinyoung’s son would be the one who took the bait. While both of the companies were worth something, Hong Investments was like a beacon, and your father was swimming towards the dollar signs. 
Settling into his chair, your father furrows his brows at his phone and the lack of messages from you. You knew he was upset with you. He had sent you away with the new bodyguard, what was his name again, Kim? Sighing, the older man presses down on your name and puts his phone to his cheek, leaning back to take a sip of his alcohol and listening to the phone ring until your voicemail picks up. 
Cursing under his breath, your father tries your number again with the same result before scowling at your picture on his phone. You were ignoring him? You were a prideful brat, but you weren’t a complete idiot. You knew that he would cut off your credit cards if you made him mad enough; no, something else was going on. 
Just as he was about to press down on your name for the third time, an unknown number appeared on his phone. Furrowing his brows, your father starts to wonder if perhaps something happened to your phone—this was you calling from a new number. That didn’t make sense. Sighing into his words, he answers the phone with annoyance and confusion evident in his tone. 
“Hello?”
The man on the other side of the phone smirked at hearing how annoyed your father seemed. He had never met Mr. Y/L/N, but he had heard stories and he knew the man’s pockets were deep. 
“Mr. Y/L/N, good evening.” 
Scoffing, thinking that it’s a solicitor or even a collector of some kind, your father starts to press the end button before he hears the man speak again. 
“Missing something—or someone, I should say?” 
There were many things that your father didn’t enjoy and being pulled along and fucked with was one of them. Sitting up, he narrows his eyes, glancing down into his glass of brandy before taking a sip and letting out a breath between his teeth before answering the man. 
“Like what? Who is this?” 
A grin stretches on the other man’s face as he leans back in his chair, glancing down at the picture of you on his desk. Using the tip of a pen, he pushes the picture around aimlessly before letting out an unamused laugh at the old man’s questions. 
“Don’t play senile. I know you are wondering where Y/N is. As for my name, just call me Mr. Park.” 
There were plenty of Mr. Park’s in Seoul. Rolling his eyes, your father clenches his hand around the brandy glass before sitting it down hard on the table in front of him. 
“Fine, Mr. Park, where is my daughter?” 
Now they were getting somewhere. This is how money is made. Park Bonhwa grins at your picture once again, pulling it back towards him. You were beautiful and even in the candid picture he had of you, he could tell that you were expensive. You were worth every penny he had been offered to set up this job. 
“With a friend... where she will stay, until we can come to an agreement.” 
At those words, a smile pulls at your father’s lips. The idea of you being kidnapped is ridiculous; you had a bodyguard—handpicked by him—with you at all times. Shaking his head, he laughs, causing Park Bonhwa’s grin to slip and his jaw to tighten. 
“You think this is some kind of fuckin’ joke, old man? I’ll have him cut off her fingers one by one and put them on your door. Don’t you ever laugh at me again.” 
It was a joke and your father wasn’t intimidated. He would prefer to have you back in one piece, but how much this Mr. Park wanted for you was going to determine that. This wasn’t the first time that your father had been threatened and he wouldn’t turn over and show his belly to just anyone. 
“Apologies; please continue with your script. How much are you wanting for my daughter?” 
Furrowing his brows, Bonhwa finds himself a bit flustered and confused by your father’s tone and his choice of words. Was he not concerned about your safety or the condition you might be returned in? Shaking his head, he pushes forward with his task as he licks his lips and pushes your photo away. 
“10 billion won, and I can promise she will be returned to you safe—” 
“You have to be fucking kidding me.” 
After being cut off by your father, Bonhwa grits his teeth and sits up in his chair. He hadn’t played the middle man for many kidnappings, but they had never been unsuccessful. Yours shouldn’t be either. The plan seemed flawless; you were going to die either way. 
“Excuse me?” 
Standing up, your father shakes his head and looks at the phone as if the man is standing in front of him and he could shake some sense into him. He was looking at the phone as if he could teach the man how to do business better, as if the man wasn’t telling him he wanted money for his daughter’s life. 
“She’s not worth that amount of money. Where did you pull that number from? Your ass?” 
Picking at the granola bar, you could feel Wonwoo’s eyes on you when his cellphone had gone off in his pocket. Yours had gone off a few times earlier, but he had just glanced at it and finally turned it off before putting it back in his pocket. You figured it was your father and by the look on Wonwoo’s face, he wasn’t in the mood for your phone or his. 
“What?” 
Watching him, you furrow your brows as Wonwoo lifts his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance. Maybe it was his boss? Did he have one? He had said he was hired to take you, so there was someone in charge of this. If so, why did Wonwoo look so annoyed by the man? 
“Negotiations? So what the fuck—no? What? No, I fuckin—you know what?” 
The conversation didn’t seem to be going well. If it were about your father, you could only imagine how poorly it could be. You had tried to warn Wonwoo and you had tried to make this easier on yourself and him, and yet here you sat on a filthy couch in the middle of nowhere. 
Park Bonhwa’s voice was like tin foil on a grater to Wonwoo. The man was an idiot, but he had lined Wonwoo’s pockets for this job. However, this job was starting to look like more of a pain in the ass than it had to be. 
“Don’t you tell me anything, Jeon! You’re my help. I hired you. He’s gonna agree; he just needs the motivation. Take a picture of the little bitch after you rough her up.” 
Shaking his head, Wonwoo glances over at you, watching you glance down quickly. You were afraid of him or at least afraid of the situation. He didn’t want to rough you up; he didn’t hit women. Sure, he had taken you and threatened you, but he had never hit you. He had never hit a woman in his life. Killed them? That was left up for debate, if they deserved it. 
“Yeah, whatever…” 
Hanging up, Wonwoo drops his hand to his side as he tilts his head. You already looked like shit. Maybe he could figure out another way to do this. 
“Y/N, get up. Come over here.” 
You swallow hard and shake your head. You weren’t sure what he had been told to do and you didn’t want to make any of it easy for him. Has your father really said no? Was he going to kill you now? Make you walk to him so he could put a bullet in your head? Deviantly, you grab at the couch under you, letting the granola bar slip off your lap and into the floor as Wonwoo watches his frustration rise. 
“Get the fuck up! I am giving you the chance to do this yourself. Don’t make me fucking move you myself.” 
When you still don’t move, sitting firmly on the couch, Wonwoo lets out a frustrated groan that almost sounds like a growl from his throat. Your eyes meet his and he sees the fear mixed with anger in them when his hand wraps around your bicep so that he can lift you from the couch by force. The pain reminds you of your father’s grip on you, and you feel tears collecting on your eyes, but you will them back, not wanting to give Wonwoo the satisfaction of seeing them if this is the last thing he sees of you. 
“Walk! Goddammit, why are you so fucking stubborn? I wouldn’t have to be so damn mean to you if you’d cooperate with me. You realize that? Here! No, I said here!” 
A whimper slips from your lips as you stumble in your heels, feeling your ankle roll when Wonwoo pushes you against the wall. You feel the peeling paint against your skin and you smell the mold radiating off the drywall as you squirm in his grasp until finally Wonwoo’s anger gets the best of him. A hand slams into the wall next to your head, mere centimeters from your face, making you stop moving. 
You stare at Wonwoo’s hand, letting your eyes move to his wrist and forearm, where his muscles are tense from the amount of pressure he used. You squeeze your eyes shut, imagining how bad it would have hurt if he had chosen to hit you instead of the wall. 
Wonwoo swallows hard, feeling you go pliant in his grasp. While he was used to his life, it didn’t make moments like this enjoyable. You had been a bitch to him and others around you, but it didn’t make scaring you to this point seem fun. Taking a breath, Wonwoo watches the tears run down your cheeks as he pushes away his compassion and rubs his hand against the dirty wall before grabbing your face and hearing you sob, begging him to stop. 
“Shut up and listen to me.” 
Tilting his head, Wonwoo narrows his eyes, almost eyeing your face like a canvas as he uses the dirt on his fingers as paint while he talks. 
“You’re fucked, Y/N. Daddy isn’t willing to hand over the money like they thought he would, so they want... wanted me to fuck you up.” 
Moving his hand back to the wall, Wonwoo uses your tears on his fingers to collect more of the dirt, moving his hand back to you and wrapping his hand around your throat. You tense, your hand moving to grab his forearm, nails digging into his skin, causing Wonwoo to hiss before he tightens his grasp around your throat only for a moment and loosens it. 
“I’m doing this to make it look like I beat you. I don’t beat women.” Meeting your eyes, Wonwoo watches confusion walk over your face before he clarifies. “Doesn’t mean I won’t kill you. One bullet to the back of your head and you are done, Princess.” 
He was a complicated and confusing man. You could appreciate that he wasn’t going to actually beat you like he was told to, but he was still scaring you. He was still reminding you that he could and would kill you easily. Reaching up, you start to wipe your tears but Wonwoo grabs your wrist and shakes his head before tilting it. 
“Let them run through the dirt... Makes you look more pathetic, plus... there’s something red in the dirt and your tears make it look like you are bleeding.” 
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Wonwoo looks through the pictures he sent to Bonhwa. They were too convincing, but he owed that to how terrified you were while he had taken them. Glancing over to where you lay on the couch, Wonwoo sighs, seeing the dirt still covering your face. 
It had been over 16 hours since he had taken you, and you were still in that dress. It was filthy and ripped. Your shoes were now off because your ankle had started to swell after you had rolled it. Now Wonwoo couldn’t help the way his eyes scanned the floor of the dilapidated apartment, seeing rusty nails, glass, and pieces of metal that could all end up in your feet. 
He shouldn’t care. After the pictures had been sent to Bonhwa, he received another call. Your father still wasn’t sending money and it didn’t matter anyway; Bonhwa’s contract wanted a bullet in your skull. Apparently, it wasn’t enough to bankrupt your father. The man wanted to make sure every point of income, including children, was cut off from him. 
Sliding his duffle bag closer to him, Wonwoo digs through his supplies, counting up his rations and looks over what else he had the forethought to pack. He was used to disappearing for months, even years at a time, so this wasn’t a big deal for him. It was having you here and the gnawing bit of compassion biting at the back of his head that was causing him issues. 
Taking out a pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a pair of tennis shoes, Wonwoo sighs and narrows his eyes at you. He didn’t care about you. You were a dead woman walking, so why should it matter that the sight of you in that stupid fucking evening dress was making him feel sick? You had been beautiful in it before the dinner. He could admit that to himself. You were a beautiful woman. The dress had probably been custom made for you and right now it represented where you had pretended to come from. All the filth covering it represented what was really underneath all the glitz and glamor. 
Moving to drop the clothes next to you, Wonwoo watches you slowly wake up. You didn’t have much energy. You weren’t eating or drinking enough, so your body was choosing exhaustion instead. Pointing at the clothes, Wonwoo lifts his brows and waits for you to give them some recognition, but instead you sit up and wrap your arms around you, chill bumps spreading over your skin. 
“There’s no running water here... but at least you can change into something cleaner. We can get that shit off of your face.” 
Your brows furrow deeply at Wonwoo’s words. You wanted to fight him, but you just nodded and started to put your feet down when he reached out to stop you. 
“I’ll turn my back; you slip on the shoes first and then the clothes. There’s nowhere you can go, understand?” 
You were too tired to run. Looking down at the floor, you see why he had stopped you, the glass crunching under his feet as he moved a few steps away from you. Turning his back, Wonwoo glances over his shoulder to watch you put on his shoes before he looks back towards the wall when you start to unzip your dress under your arm. 
“Why are you doing this? He’s not gonna pay, Wonwoo. I’m tired…” 
It had only been 16 hours and you were already giving up. Wonwoo shouldn’t be annoyed that you were giving up; that should be a good thing in theory, but instead it was frustrating. Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo peeks over his shoulder to see you dropping your dress into the floor, your body covered in matching lace as you reach for his t-shirt. 
“Suck it up. What would you rather happen? I just killed you now.” 
Pulling the shirt over your head, you scoff, finding it amusing how his words don’t really scare you this time. They almost seem like a joke. Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes briefly, you watch him look away quickly, clearing his throat. You know you should be upset that he was looking at you in a vulnerable state, but instead you slip one foot out of the borrowed shoes and start pulling on the sweatpants. 
“Why not? Seems like a waste of everyone's time.” 
Taken aback by your answer, Wonwoo hears you sigh, the couch settling as you sit down behind him. Turning around to face you, he looks at you in his clothes before his eyes move to the dirt he had painted on your face and throat. You watch as Wonwoo takes a bottle of water from his bag along with a towel, pouring some on to it as he kneels in front of you. 
“Think so low of yourself all of a sudden, Princess? What happened to all that confidence you had yesterday?” 
Wonwoo lifts his hand with the towel to wipe at your skin but at first you wince in fear. Meeting his eyes, he gives you a look of reassurance before trying again and this time you lean slightly into his touch. It takes some pressure for Wonwoo to get the dirt off of your skin; his eyes follow his hand even as he pours more water on to new sections of the towel. 
“I’m just a good liar.” 
That Wonwoo could tell wasn’t a lie. He knew you were a liar. He had caught you in plenty of lies in the short time he had known you, so perhaps he wouldn’t call you a good liar, but a liar nonetheless. Wonwoo’s brows knit together in thought as he lifts his free hand up to hold your chin as he rubs as gently as possible at your neck to clean his handprint from it, feeling you swallow under his touch. 
“So you gonna be truthful with me now that you are so ready to die? Or are you ready and willing to die because you hate your life so much?” 
It was none of Wonwoo’s business to answer either of those questions, but you didn’t mind that he had asked them. The only issue was that they brought tears to your eyes. Wonwoo moves your face from side to side, his eyes searching for dirt to clear from your face, before he meets your eyes and sees more tears threatening to spill over the rims. 
“You know I hate my life. You saw it firsthand.” 
Tossing the towel to the side, Wonwoo stands and puts the lid back on the water bottle before dropping it back into his bag. You watch as he leans to swipe your destroyed dress from the floor, balling it up in his hands like trash as he thinks. 
“I did, and from the outside looking in, darlin’, your life looks cushy. But that’s all smoke and mirrors, isn’t it?” Wonwoo doesn’t watch you nod, even as you do. “Won’t lie, your daddy acts like he’s running an escort service, but you’re the only one working.” 
Wonwoo’s words cause your face to heat up. You are angry with him, with his words, and with the truth. You know he’s not wrong and you’ve heard the rumors before. If it isn’t a marriage he is trying to set up for you with a rich son or a business partner, at least he can get a date for you, and you are reminded to make them happy. Happy is such a broad term, but you knew what it meant. You hate your father for it and any of the men who wanted the dates. 
Dropping your dress in the corner of the room, deeming that the new trash pile, Wonwoo moves back over to you to kneel in front of you. He meets your eyes, then reaches out to slide the leg of your new sweatpants up so he can look at your ankle. When you wince, his fingers prodding at the swollen muscle, he nods and sighs. 
“It’s not broken; you’ll live.” 
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Wonwoo runs his thumb along his palm as he watches you sleep. This has become his new pastime over the past couple of days. It hadn’t been his plan, but between disappointingly annoying phone calls from Bonhwa and watching time tick away, Wonwoo watched your spirit dwindle with it. 
In reality, he knew he shouldn’t care. In fact, it should be a good thing. You were less combative. You ran your mouth less. You complained about things less, and yet Wonwoo was starting to miss that fiery woman who made his blood boil. This fragile thing laying in a ball on the couch was a shadow of you, and he had done that. Maybe not on his own, but he was the hands, if not the head. 
Leaning his head back against the door, Wonwoo picks up his cellphone, looking at another text message from Bonhwa. Each time his phone rang today, he had let it go to voicemail. He wasn’t some errand boy. Park Bonhwa had already paid him for this job; sure, there was still something left to do, but he couldn’t keep asking him for more shit without adding zeros to the end of what he had given him. Especially the shit he was asking for. 
Park: I’m tired of your bullshit
Park: As if I’m not already dealing with enough from the bitch’s daddy 
Park: Hyong wants more pictures 
2 missed calls from Park 
Park: You son of a bitch 
Park: answer the fucking phone! 
Answering the phone Wonwoo hisses out his words, keeping his voice low so as not to wake you. 
“What the fuck do you want? I sent pictures—” 
“Shut your fucking mouth. Price came down and the motherfucker is still refusing to pay up like Hyong wants him too. Send more.” 
Wonwoo didn’t know who Hyong was; he figured it was the man who had hired Bonhwa, but truthfully, he didn’t care. The less he knew, the better. Biting at his cheek, Wonwoo rolls his eyes and shakes his head. 
“I’m not touching her again. Bad enough, the fucker wants her dead anyway.” 
Slamming his fist down on his desk, Bonhwa grits his teeth and scoffs into his phone. 
“Worthless. I thought you were a professional. The best? Did I waste my fuckin’ money?” Giving Wonwoo only a moment to start to speak, Bonhwa cuts him off before he gets out the first syllable. “Do I need to send some boys to find you and the girl? Have them finish the job?”
The idea of that made Wonwoo sick to his stomach. He knew enough about Park Bonhwa and his men to know he’d rather kill you himself than let them near you. They wouldn’t just kill you. They would assault you, torture you, film it like Bonhwa wanted, and then kill you. 
“Fuck off. I'll take care of it.” 
Hanging up the phone, Wonwoo tosses the phone into his bag with a louder groan than he meant to cause you to stir from your sleep. Furrowing your brows, you glance towards the man with a bit of concern in your eyes. The past day, he had changed his attitude towards you in some ways. He wasn’t nice, per se, but he wasn’t unnecessarily cruel either.
Meeting your eyes, Wonwoo sighs, lifting his hand to brush it through his hair. He needed a shower and so did you. It would do some good to move locations. It wasn’t his plan. He knew he could tie you to one of the exposed pipes and go do what he needed to do, but for some reason he found himself not wanting to do that. 
“Wanna go for some fresh air, princess?” 
Sitting up slowly, you consider Wonwoo’s question before nodding. You had heard some of his conversations with his boss, this Park man, and none of them had you convinced that this was going your way. 
Wonwoo gets to his feet, leaning to pick up his duffle bag as you slide from the couch. His eyes follow you carefully, watching how you weakly move towards him. That pang of pity hits him and Wonwoo tries to force it back down, only for it to rise up in his throat like bile. Shaking his head, Wonwoo wraps his arm around your waist, letting you lean against him as you try to keep some weight off your swollen ankle as the two of you walk back down the stairs. 
“Can I ask a question?” 
Your voice surprises Wonwoo as he opens the back door of the car for you. Meeting your gaze, he tilts his head and nods once, waiting for you to continue. 
“Are you going to kill me?” 
Your question makes the bile bubble in Wonwoo’s throat once again. Looking away, Wonwoo has to clear his throat, forcing the sick feeling down before he once again meets your eyes. There is fear in your eyes, but also a deep sadness that Wonwoo has started to notice as your confident facade starts to crack. Wonwoo knew he could lie to you but what good would that do to anyone? 
“I’m supposed to. That’s the job.” 
Tears sit on the rims of your eyes as you nod while sitting down on the backseat of the car. You try to think of the right words or a reason to beg for your life, but you can’t think of a single reason. Wonwoo furrows his brows as he watches you nod and pull your legs into the car. His eyes trace the tears as they run down your cheeks before he closes the door and curses under his breath. No other mark had made him feel like this. Why did you feel different? 
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Looking around the house, you wrap your arms around you, waiting for the punchline of Wonwoo’s joke. He had taken you from the most disgusting, dilapidated apartment building you had ever seen to a modest sized house just outside of the city. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was clean and had modern comforts. 
Wonwoo locks the door, shielding the keypad with his large upper body, as you hear the sound of a code being keyed into the security system. Turning back to face you as you stand in the foyer, clearly confused, he sighs, dropping his duffle bag with a dull thud before crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. 
“Let me make something clear to you, Y/N. This doesn’t change anything. I’m just tired of sleeping on the fuckin’ ground.” 
You couldn’t tell if he was lying. That was something you hadn’t mastered yet. Wonwoo was so closed off and you were too tired to pry. Swallowing hard, you look down as he keeps staring at you, his eyes almost studying you as they move along your frame, continuing his explanation. 
“You try to open a door to the outside; I’ll know and you’ll regret it. Don’t fuck with me, understand?” 
Nodding, you pick at a loose string on the sweatpants you were currently borrowing. They were ill fitting, but still warmer and better than the dress that you had been wearing. You wanted to tell Wonwoo you were grateful for the clothes and for him moving you here, but you find yourself almost afraid to tell him anything. You were afraid that if you showed any sign of comfort, he might take it away because Park told him too. 
“Good girl. Come on.” 
Grabbing your wrist, Wonwoo guides you down the hall, turning on a light that makes you squint. You had grown accustomed to the low light of the camping lamps in the apartment. The lights in the house were almost too much at first. Glancing up, you blink a few times before you realize Wonwoo has led you to a bathroom. You feel tears once again coat your eyes, but you will them back as you watch him turn on the shower and mutter to himself before sighing and looking you over. 
“Here’s the deal, alright?” Swallowing hard, Wonwoo looks like he’s in pain at the words he is trying to force out of his mouth as he leans against the bathroom counter before he meets your eyes once again. “I don’t want to hurt you. What I told you is true, but they want more pictures.” 
A small sob escapes from your lips and Wonwoo feels his stomach tighten, the bile once again churning. Perhaps once he had enjoyed putting a little fear into you, but now it was chipping away at something inside of him. 
Taking a step back from Wonwoo, you feel the wall behind you as you close your eyes, tears slipping down your cheeks. You had no idea what sort of pictures they could want now. The last ones had broken you and Wonwoo hadn’t done more than scare you. He had taken them in a way to mimic pain, but still, they had caused you enough pain. 
“I don’t want to, Wonwoo.” 
Running his hand over his mouth, Wonwoo nods. He wants to tell you that he doesn’t want to either, but he also doesn’t want the alternative if he doesn’t deliver them. 
“If I don’t send them to him, Park will have his goons track you and I down. They are worse than me. Their pictures won’t be fake…” 
“Yours aren’t fake! I’m—” Lifting your hands, you rub at your cheeks, smearing dirt from your hands onto your face in the process of wiping your tears. “I’m so scared. Just kill me. Please? I don’t wanna do this anymore.” 
Taking the step across the bathroom towards you, Wonwoo listens to your breath get caught in your throat. He watches your body tense up as you prepare yourself for him to scare you; instead, he takes your wrist loosely in his hand. With his other hand, he carefully rubs at your cheek, trying to clean a smear of dirt from your skin. 
“Why the fuck are you just giving up now? Because your daddy is an asshole? You already knew that.” 
Leaning your head back against the wall, you meet Wonwoo’s eyes briefly before his eyes move along your face. You were still scared, but there was something about him and about his words that made your shoulders rise. You felt less small if, even for just a moment, you wanted to explain yourself, but maybe that was why he had chosen those words. 
“Why not? I told you the moment we stepped into that apartment that he wouldn’t give up any money. He’d rather see me dead.” 
Groaning in annoyance, Wonwoo slides his hand from your face to rest his fist next to your head on the wall. You feel how close he is to you; his body caging you in. It feels oppressive for a moment until he shakes his head and meets your eyes and the look in his eyes makes the way he’s standing and how close he is feel like a shield. 
“I don’t care what he wants and neither should you. I don’t know why you are so fucking sure—” 
“Life insurance, Wonwoo.” 
Your words cut him off; Wonwoo’s brows knit together tightly. The look on his face is almost one of pain, as much as it is confusion, until the words seem to sink into reality. Nodding, Wonwoo scoffs and leans his head back, a laugh slipping from between his lips before he looks back down at you and shakes his head. 
“How much?” 
Wonwoo can see how you have relaxed in front of him. The steam filling the room is comforting and tempting, but he keeps his eyes on you, waiting for your answer. 
“100 billion.” 
That explained everything. You were worth so much more to him dead than you were alive. Park’s associate clearly hadn’t done his homework. Wonwoo feels his blood boiling at the idea of a father putting that much worth on his child, hoping she would die before he would so he would benefit. There had been a lot of shitty things he had done in his life, but in that moment, he decided that killing you wouldn’t be one of them. 
“No.” 
Confused by Wonwoo’s response, you tilt your head and repeat it back to him as a question. To you, it was simple. It was exactly what was happening. You were explaining it perfectly, there was no reason for Wonwoo not to understand. Starting to speak again, you stop when Wonwoo shakes his head. You feel his fingers trail up your forearm as he lets out a sigh before they once again encircle your wrist. 
“He doesn’t get what he wants.” Gesturing his head towards the shower, Wonwoo takes a step back from you, gently pulling you from the wall. “Take a shower; we can talk about the pictures later. Fuck all of them.” 
Opening your mouth, you close it once again when Wonwoo mutters something under his breath before leaving you in the room alone. You were confused and surprised by his reaction. You had expected him to talk you into taking whatever pictures Park wanted. You had been mentally preparing yourself for some humiliating experience, but instead you were now alone in a warm bathroom. 
Looking at yourself in the mirror, you frown at the sight. You can see the dirt smeared on your skin and how disheveled your hair has gotten from a lack of care. Giving one last glance at the door, almost certain Wonwoo will come back in, you let out a slow, calming breath before stripping yourself of your borrowed clothes and making your way to the much welcomed shower. 
Leaning against the wall outside of the bathroom, Wonwoo listens to the sound of the water hitting the shower floor. He can imagine it running along your body, though he tries to push that thought from his mind quickly, afraid of where it might lead. Instead, he reminds himself how good a shower must feel after a couple days of being with him and how he has treated you. Sighing to himself, Wonwoo imagines the water pooling at your feet after it washes away the dirt, hoping it will wash away some of your stress, just like he hopes it will wash away his own. 
Taking his cellphone from his jeans, Wonwoo scowls at a text from Bonhwa before replying and shoving it back into his pocket. He had no respect for the man. Not that he had before learned from you, but now he had no reason to keep any loyalty towards him. 
Park: Chop chop, Jeon. I want my pictures. 
Wonwoo: When I’m ready.
Picking up his duffle bag, Wonwoo climbs the flight of stairs to the second floor, turning on the light for the bedroom. He had many safe houses. They were in various locations around Korea and other countries. None were in his real name and each one was kept stocked by people he could trust. This one was no different. 
Opening the dresser, Wonwoo furrows his brows at the clothing choice. There was plenty for him, but he was limited in his choices for you. It wasn’t his every day that he kept a mark with him and clothed them. Tossing a few things onto the bed, Wonwoo turns his attention to the closet, tilting his head at a few items near the back. Things he had forgotten had been left behind by those he would never name. He found himself pleased with his own hoarding tendencies as he pulled a simple summer dress and sweater from the closet, hoping they would fit you. 
With a towel wrapped around your body, you look through the drawers in the bathroom for things you might be able to use. A face wash and moisturizer catch your eye and you find yourself wondering if they belong to Wonwoo or if he had friends, perhaps a girlfriend you weren’t aware of. Shaking your head, you quickly use the products and relish in the feeling of brushing your teeth before you hear the sound of Wonwoo’s voice on the other side of the door. 
“Y/N? I—are you decent? Well, decent enough for me to come in?” 
You think back to Wonwoo peeking over his shoulder at you changing at the apartment as you glance towards the door. Your cheeks start to heat up as you hold your towel tighter and pull the door open, letting Wonwoo inside if he wants. 
Wonwoo takes a deep breath as his eyes move over your legs and up to your face. You watch as he seems to forget what he is doing for a brief moment before lifting his hands to show you the clothes he has collected for you. Furrowing your brows, you can’t help but smile even slightly at the sight of the dress over Wonwoo’s arm. It’s a simple soft green knee mid-thigh length dress that you know you would have never worn before all of this, but now the dress looks like comfort and kindness. 
“I don’t know if they will fit you, but they are all I could find. I could get you some of my things if you’d prefer—” 
“These are great, Wonwoo, if that’s okay?” 
Reaching out for the dress and sweater, you accidentally brush your hand over Wonwoo’s before pulling your hand back on instinct. You find yourself nervous, perhaps even a bit afraid of what his response might be. Looking down, your brows furrowed, you hear Wonwoo say your name softly, drawing your attention back up to him. 
“It’s okay. Get dressed and we can…” You watch Wonwoo scoff into a laugh at how ridiculous he feels at his own words as he says them. “Talk about your situation.” 
Not really understanding what Wonwoo means, you just nod and take the clothes from him, stepping back so he can shut the bathroom door once again. Your fingers carefully brush over the fabric in your hands and you feel goosebumps spread over your skin at how soft the sweater feels. Had Wonwoo noticed how cold you had been at the apartment? Was this a kind gesture to keep you warmer here? Should you not think about it like that? 
Glancing up at the ceiling as you hear water running, you tilt your head, realizing that Wonwoo was probably using another bathroom to take his own shower. He was trusting you not to run. Granted, he had given you a warning not to run. He had set an alarm and told you what would happen, but there was still a level of trust in taking a shower knowing you were done. 
With the sweater over your new dress, you look at the front door. There were three deadbolts, a chain, and a keypad that you had heard Wonwoo type something into earlier. It would take you a few minutes to get them all undone and the alarm would go off, but then you could run. You were exhausted, you were hungry, and now you were confused. 
Running your fingers over the soft sleeves of your sweater, you look behind you up the stairs, where you can still hear running water. Was this a test? Your mind goes back to what Wonwoo said before he left you alone but more so about what he said before your shower. 
“He doesn’t get what he wants.” 
Moving away from the door, you look around the living room. Your eyes fall to the soft couch, a sigh slipping from your lips as you sit down on it, feeling the cloth against the back of your legs. It was so much nicer than the dirty leather of the one in the apartment. You weren’t sure how this house worked if Wonwoo lived here often, but it was clean and almost felt like home. 
Running his fingers through his wet hair, Wonwoo looks around the bedroom, listening for any signs of you. He hadn’t gotten any alerts that the doors had been opened, but if you had, he wouldn’t have really blamed you. Sure, he had warned you not to do it, but that had been before everything he had learned about your father and now if you walked out that door, he might just let you go. The only thing stopping him was the fear that Bonhwa’s men would find you before he did. 
Jogging down the steps, Wonwoo tugs his shirt down his torso, only to meet your eyes as he rounds the doorway into the living room. You were lying on the couch and it reminded him so much of the apartment. The main difference here is that you looked comfortable and somehow even more beautiful. You almost took his breath away in the new dress, the sweater’s sleeves held at your palms by your fingers. 
“Hey…” 
Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes, you sit up quickly. That fear that he might be upset at your comfort suddenly hits you until he sighs. Gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder, Wonwoo closes his eyes in thought before finally speaking. 
“I’ll make something warm to eat. I can’t promise it’ll be good or not expired. But it’ll be food. Then we can talk.” 
Smiling to yourself, you lift your hand to your lips to hide your smile as you watch Wonwoo move across the hall into the kitchen. There had been a shift in him over the past couple of days but more so today. This Wonwoo was still intense; he frightened you at times, but he was also warm and comforting in a strange way. 
Turning to lay on your stomach, you rest your chin on your arm, watching Wonwoo open cabinets. From where you are, you can hear him muttering something to himself and see him occasionally reach up to scratch at his brow before he finally seems to figure out what to do next. 
After a few minutes of struggling, he finally manages to find a pot for water and some ramen. Looking over his shoulder back into the living room, Wonwoo has to hide his smirk, finding you watching him from the couch. The way you are lying is cute—your ankles crossed, knees bent so your feet can be up in the air. It reminds him of girls in dramas watching television or writing in their diaries, not that he’s watched a drama or movie in years. 
With ramen on the table in front of you, still in the pot, Wonwoo offers you a set of chopsticks as he sits near you on the floor. Shifting to sit next to him, you lean over the table to look down at the food with appreciation before giving the same look to Wonwoo. 
“Thank you… I–I honestly didn’t expect you to give me anything.” 
Taking a deep breath, Wonwoo nods, gesturing for you to take the first bite. He watches you savor some of the noodles as his brows furrow, feeling his phone vibrate in his sweatpants pocket. He knew he should check it, but that would require caring what Park Bonhwa had to say, and right now he didn’t. Right now, the only thing that he cared about was getting something in your stomach and having a conversation that didn’t end with you being terrified of him. 
“That’s fair. I haven’t—look, this isn’t the most ideal situation we are in.” 
Scoffing, you stop yourself immediately, lowering your head apologetically at your gut reaction. You couldn’t help but find the irony in Wonwoo’s words. You knew it wasn’t an ideal situation but if it wasn’t ideal for him, he should try being you. You were the one who was going to be dead soon. 
“You’re allowed to react, princess.” 
That name. At first, it had made you angry, but you figured that was probably Wonwoo's desired reaction to it. Now the name makes your cheeks burn with something else. It made you feel shy and while it still made you feel smaller than Wonwoo, you didn’t hate that feeling. His larger than life stature over you, standing between you and Park somehow seemed like a good thing right now. 
“Just don’t wanna piss you off. I’m good at that, if you remember...” 
Smirking, Wonwoo tilts his head before leaning to eat some of the noodles and licking the broth from his lips. He did remember, but the you that had seemed dead set on frustrating him to no end a few days ago now seemed like she was miles away. You were someone different and he wanted to find the woman who was in the middle. 
“Trust me, I do.” 
Watching you, Wonwoo can’t help the way he has to take a breath as you blow at the ramen with a small smile on your face at his words. If this were any other situation, one might mistake it for a date, but he knew the reason you were here just as much as you did. 
“Do you even want to go home?” 
The question makes you stop what you are doing mid bite. Furrowing your brows, you glance over at Wonwoo, finding his eyes on you. Your stomach tightens at how intense his gaze is, the weight behind it and his question. It was a loaded question with many different possible answers, but only one that you could think of. 
“No.” 
Looking down at his hands, Wonwoo nods, letting that reality sink in. He had a few options laid out in front of him of how this week could end. He could follow through with what he had been paid to do. He could kill you, put your body on your father’s doorstep, and call it a job well done. He could let you go, never thinking of you again, but Wonwoo finds himself struggling to picture himself doing that and you surviving. Then there was the third option... 
“I have a friend—mmm, no, let’s call him an acquaintance; we aren’t friends. This acquaintance has been in touch about you.” 
The words all make sense but yet you shake your head, not understanding what any of them mean. You didn’t know Wonwoo’s acquaintances or his friends and you weren’t sure what they would want with you, unless... 
“He wants to kill me?” 
Meeting your eyes almost in shock by your assumption, Wonwoo shakes his head and sighs. The sigh is loud and exasperated because clearly he’s not going quickly enough and explaining well enough. 
“No, Jesus, Y/N… No, he’s—he’s a detective. I could either hand you over to him or—or I could have him help me let you disappear.” 
Looking around the room, you repeat some of what Wonwoo had said back to yourself as if trying to understand it before meeting his eyes. He had changed his mind. He wasn’t going to kill you. You hadn’t been wrong in the shift you had seen in him; you just didn’t understand why. 
“Why? I mean… not that I’m not grateful and that I don’t want it—”
“Which one?” 
Cutting you off with his question, Wonwoo slides his arm along the couch cushion behind your back as you look at him, lost for words. He expected a quick decision and you weren’t sure you were capable. Shaking your head, you lay down your chopsticks and lean back against the couch, a bit surprised to feel Wonwoo’s hand against your arm. Looking down at his fingers, you furrow your brows, watching them flex once before he braves the water and rests them against your bicep. 
“I need to know because there isn’t a lot of time for this to work. I’m not trying to scare you by saying that, but honestly, you should still be scared. I’m not saying anything about me; I’m not going to hurt you… but Bonhwa…” 
Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes once again, you have a new, intrigued look on your face at learning a name. You hadn’t heard the name Bonhwa before; was that Park’s first name? 
“He would? Park Bonhwa?” 
Realizing what he had said, Wonwoo looks down with a sigh. Nodding, he lifts his free hand to rub at his brows before looking up at you once again. 
“Yes, he’s a piece of shit, Y/N. Some bigger piece of shit hired him to do this. Somebody who doesn’t like your father.” 
Now you are starting to learn things and understand them. You didn’t know anyone named Park Bonhwa, but your father had plenty of enemies and plenty of people pretending to be friends who would want his downfall. 
“So if I disappear, how does that work?” 
Pursing his lips, Wonwoo shifts closer to you and makes an unsure sound. 
“I’ll have to work it out with Cheo—with my acquaintance. If it’s what you want, I’ll figure it out.” 
Looking over Wonwoo’s face, you find yourself nodding, convinced by his words but still something hangs in the air. There was something that made you pause and look at him with uncertainty. 
“Why are you doing this for me? You hate me.” 
Looking at his hand as he picks at the sweater resting over your arm, Wonwoo sighs at your question. It was a fair one. He hadn’t given you any other reason to think otherwise. He had pretty much told you more than once that he didn’t like you, that he hated you, but you had returned the favor. Looking at you now, Wonwoo was almost too shy to look back up at your eyes.
"Uh—yeah, well, shit changes, doesn’t it? When you aren’t trying to actively hate someone for the job and they aren’t being a bitch for fun?”
Letting out a scoff, you meet Wonwoo’s eyes, almost defiantly realizing how close he is. You can see his brows knit together as his eyes waver from your eyes to your lips and back. Neither of you are idiots or immune to the tension blanketing the two of you as your eyes follow a similar path on his face. 
“It wasn’t for fun... all the time. Most of the time it was—” 
“A shield?”
Nodding, you find your brows pulling together this time at Wonwoo’s words, as he seems to know you better than to anticipate. He had been paying attention to you and listening to what you had been saying over the past few days. Inhaling softly, you feel Wonwoo’s fingers press against your arm as he mutters a curse under his breath, leaning his head in closer to yours. You can almost see the internal battle written on Wonwoo’s face as he struggles with the desire to act on his wants and instincts compared to what he knows he should do. 
“Are you still afraid of me?” 
Shaking your head, you pause to lick your lips and Wonwoo smiles, knowing you aren’t telling him the full truth. Maybe you weren’t as afraid of him as you once were, but there is still fear left. Giving into desire, Wonwoo leans in the last few inches, letting his lips barely brush against yours as he speaks, letting you decide to meet his kiss or pull away. 
“Promised I wouldn’t hurt you. I won’t let anyone else either.”
A small whine escapes from your lips at Wonwoo’s confession and the feeling of his breath on your lips. You have a split second to consider your options before you give in to your desires and meet his kiss gently. You have little to no reason to trust Wonwoo and yet now everything in your being is telling you that you can, as his lips mesh with yours. 
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Flexing your fingers, you dig them into the mattress under you, enjoying the feeling of it under you. There was something freeing about this fucked up situation you found yourself in. There were still some who expected something out of you, but you had the most unexpected shield. 
Opening your eyes, you look at Wonwoo’s face as he sleeps beside you. After the simple kiss, he insisted you finish eating and ushered you upstairs to bed. You could remember the same man who had forced you up steps a few days earlier, but he seemed a million miles away now. 
The man sleeping beside you now, his brows knit together as he dreamed, wasn’t that person. Perhaps he was on the surface, but underneath that mask, you were learning he was a warm, complicated person. He wasn’t the asshole you had called him so many times and you weren’t the bitch you pretended to be. There was an art to lying as much as you two had to one another. 
Shifting slightly, you take a breath, only to hold it when Wonwoo’s eyes flutter open. He was apparently a light sleeper. You had wondered if he was; he always seemed to be awake at the apartment so seeing him asleep was a rare, fleeting treat. Looking over your face, Wonwoo’s lips pull up slightly in a smile before he turns to lay on his back with a sigh. 
“Didn’t mean to wake you up.” 
Shaking his head, Wonwoo rubs his eyes with his middle finger and thumb as he yawns. You smile watching him enjoy how domestic the moment feels, wishing it would never end. You find yourself letting your eyes move over Wonwoo a bit more brazenly while he’s distracted. How attractive he was had never escaped you; it had just been overshadowed by how much he had frightened you, but now, as he rubbed at his tired eyes, you found him even more handsome. 
“I don’t really sleep.” 
Pursing your lips, you pull your legs up towards your stomach under the blanket, your thumbnail resting against your lips as you try to hide your smile. Wonwoo lifts his brows at your reaction to him, his eyes doing something similar to yours, but he takes a bit more time before taking a breath and licking his lips. 
“What? You don’t believe me?” 
Resting your head on your bicep, you shake it slightly, move your hand from your lips. 
“It’s not that. You just confuse me. I’m not sure you are human.” 
Smiling, Wonwoo lifts his brow and lets his eyes once again move over your pretty face. If he let himself, he could imagine this being a very normal situation. Just two people lying in bed, getting closer to one another. It was almost terrifying to him that he wanted that, but looking at you as you nuzzled your cheek to the soft sweater you were now lovingly wearing, Wonwoo yearned for it. 
“I am… I just tend to run off caffeine and power naps.” 
Your laugh is welcomed music to Wonwoo’s ears. He had heard it before, when you were living your life before all of this. It hadn’t sounded like this, though. It was almost robotic then and annoying. It had gotten on his nerves; everything about you before had, and it had made hurting you easier. He couldn’t imagine hurting the girl in front of him now. Now he was fighting the urge to run his fingers over your face and over your hair. He was trying to convince himself not to kiss you again. 
“That can’t be healthy. Someone needs to take care of you, Kim Wonwoo.” 
Hearing the fake name that he had given you and your father, Wonwoo’s smile fades. You watch Wonwoo’s eyes move away from yours, his mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to think of what to say. You are about to ask him what’s wrong when the sound of his phone ringing draws his attention away from you and towards the nightstand. 
Narrowing his eyes at the name on the screen, Wonwoo sits up, swiping it almost angrily from the top of the nightstand before answering the phone. Your eyes follow him as he slides from the bed and runs his fingers through his hair, his voice suddenly deeper and rougher. 
“What the fuck do you want now?” 
Scowling at Wonwoo’s attitude, Park Bonhwa slams the door to his Cadillac, giving a lingering look to his driver. They all knew he was in a bad mood, he had been since he had taken on this contract and it was giving them all a headache. Jeon Wonwoo was a serious pain in the ass.
“You know what I fucking wanted, motherfucker! Now I just want her corpse. I’ll send someone else to get it if you are too much of a pussy to—” 
“You won’t do anything!” 
Being cut off by Wonwoo, Bonhwa smacks his hand against the metal door in front of him. The professional that had come so highly recommended was starting to look more like a petulant child than a hitman. 
“Who the hell do you think you are to tell me what I can and can’t do, Jeon?” 
Swallowing hard, Wonwoo glances back at you, realizing you could hear more of his conversation than he would like. He could see the tears on your cheeks and he needed to fix this. Pulling open the bedroom door, Wonwoo slams it behind him, leaving you alone and unable to hear anything more than his muffled angry voice and the occasional word, but it was enough. You understood what “Park” wanted. Wonwoo had offered to help you disappear, but maybe that was too difficult. 
Hissing out his words like venom, Wonwoo glares at the window in front of him as if Bonhwa is in front of him. At this point, he wished the man was. He would let him take your place and make this all a lot simpler. 
“I’ll take care of it! Wire the goddamn money, you piece of shit. If your timeline can speed up, my price can go up.” 
Wonwoo can hear Bonhwa’s argument starting but he is quick to cut him off before he starts by ending the call. There was a lot to explain to you and a lot to apologize for. Granted, he didn’t really owe you or anyone an apology for living his life and making a living in the best way he knew how. It wasn’t his fault he had fallen—no, he wasn’t going to admit that even to himself. 
Scrolling through his contacts, Wonwoo hits another name, placing the phone back against his ear and letting it ring. His head was starting to hurt. He hadn’t slept enough; like he had told you, he rarely did, but now it was starting to weigh on him. 
“What? Turning yourself in?” 
Wonwoo scoffs at Choi Seungcheol’s words as he slides down the wall outside of the bedroom. There had only been one man who had even come close to catching him and it had been Detective Choi Seungcheol. The only reason he hadn’t was because of a deal struck between a desperate man and an even more desperate, not always by the book, detective. It had worked in Wonwoo’s favor then and he hoped it would now. 
“Never. Need to ask for that favor.” 
Rolling his eyes, Seungcheol glances around his office before leaning to close the door with a deafening click. He owed Wonwoo more than one favor, but luckily for him so far none of them had bit him in the ass. He hoped this one wouldn’t either. 
“And you need to get that girl home, Wonwoo. How long are you gonna keep her away from her family?” 
"Forever, hopefully, with your help.” 
That hadn’t been the answer that Seungcheol had been expecting. He hadn’t heard about your kidnapping through your father until another reliable source brought it to his attention. It was only when he and another officer approached your father did he even admit to you being taken. Seungcheol knew there was something strange about this case. It didn’t matter if fathers were told not to tell the police about their children being kidnapped, they would. That was just a father’s instinct to protect a child. Your father was different. He seemed like he had already accepted your death. 
“I—and why the fuck would I—”
“Because I’m going to help you get a promotion, Cheol.” 
Wonwoo knew that would get Seungcheol’s attention and it did. Now the detective was listening, his lips pursed as he looked at his computer in front of him, deep in thought, before finally letting out a breath. 
“How so?”
Of course, he would want to know what he would get out of it first. That detail didn’t make Wonwoo feel the best about this, but he would go about it however he needed to in order to help you now. Glancing towards the closed door, hoping that you weren’t upset with him for walking out, Wonwoo chewed at his cheek and knocked his head back against the wall. 
“Her dad, I think I can get—no, I know I can get enough to blow a whistle on his company. It’d be one hell of a bust for you, Detective Choi.”
Leaning forward to rest his elbow on his desk, Seungcheol scoffed at Wonwoo’s attempt at flattery. It was working. He knew that Y/L/N Financial Incorporation was shady, but he couldn’t touch it. There were too many lawyers and hoops to jump through in the corporate world that gave Seungcheol ulcers, but if it were laid in his lap… Well, that was a different story. Bringing down a corrupt trading company that many had lost their money to could do just what Wonwoo had said. He could have almost any position in the department that he wanted, or he could run for office. 
“And what do you need from me?” 
A breath of relief washes over Wonwoo at Seungcheol’s question. He knew the man had other connections and between the two of them and pulling a few other strings, they could solve this. 
“She doesn’t want to go home, Cheol, and they all want her dead. So, we give them what they want. She gets a fresh start and a new name.” 
This wasn’t something easily done, but Seungcheol knew that Wonwoo knew that. He knew what he was asking of him and now Seungcheol wasn’t sure if the prize was worth the work. Making a sound of concern, Seungcheol sits back in his chair, glancing towards his door, when Wonwoo speaks up once again. 
“Have you met her father?” 
Furrowing his brows, Seungcheol remembers talking to the man in his office. The older man had refused to come to the station, and even meeting in his own plush personal office seemed like an inconvenience. Talking about your kidnapping and possible impending death seemed like an inconvenience for him. Seungcheol remembered leaving frustrated and confused. He wasn’t a father yet but he hoped that he would be a better one than yours. 
“Mm, a real son of a bitch.” 
“He’s got a hell of a life insurance policy for Y/N. He doesn’t want her back, Cheol. Imagine how that might make her feel. She knew the moment I took her that she wasn’t going to make it, and I wasn’t even the one who told her.” 
Guilt hits Seungcheol in the stomach. He wants to argue with Wonwoo, turn on the cop and get angry with him for taking you, but from the sound of your situation, maybe it was a good thing he had taken you out of it. He wasn’t an idiot; he had already been told the stories of the business parties and the deals your father tried to make involving you. Seungcheol shakes his head and scoffs, making a face as if he’d eaten something sour.
“Fine, I’ll help you—I’ll help Y/N. Get your information together to make it worth my time. You know what you’re askin’ for, Wonwoo. Your information isn’t good enough and I lose my job? I’ll kill you.” 
Wonwoo grins at Seungcheol’s threat, though he knows it's a good one. He knew that Choi Seungcheol would be one of the only people who would probably be able to hunt him down and would kill him given the chance, but it wouldn’t happen. 
“The information will be better than good.” 
Picking at your nails, you lean your head back against the headboard, listening to Wonwoo’s muffled voice just outside of the bedroom. The first conversation had been heated and full of hatred, but this second one seemed to be going his way. 
Your tears had dried on your cheeks, but the churning feeling hadn’t quite settled in your stomach by the time Wonwoo opens the door. He could almost feel how your attitude had shifted from before as he leaned against the doorframe. That smile that he had been enjoying was nowhere to be found, and he knew that laugh was going to be hard won. 
“Y/N…” 
You weren’t necessarily afraid of Wonwoo anymore. You weren’t even afraid or surprised by the situation; at this point, you were coming to terms with reality. Meeting his eyes, you feel the tears once again well up in your eyes as he frowns and shakes his head. 
“It’s fine, Wonwoo.” 
Moving on to the bed, Wonwoo reaches for your hand, trying to come up with the right words to explain things when you continue. 
“I know you didn’t want me to overhear it, but it really is okay. I know my father doesn’t give a shit about me. He didn’t care about my mother, so why would I be different?” Using your free hand to rub at your nose, you glance down at your hand in Wonwoo’s. “If I could just ask a favor or two?” 
Your words were breaking Wonwoo’s heart, but as you spoke, they felt necessary. Each word builds on one another, like an explanation of you, until you finally ask something of him. Humming softly to let you continue, Wonwoo swallows hard, reaching out with his free hand to push at your tears on your cheek with his thumb. 
“I don’t want to be in pain and could you make my death mean something? Make it a lesson for him? He’s going to get even richer from it, but that doesn’t mean—-”
Having heard enough, the implication of you asking him to make your death not painful, Wonwoo slides his hand along your cheek to cup your face. 
“Stop, Y/N… just—shh, please, princess?” 
Closing your eyes when Wonwoo stops you mid sentence, you lean into his touch, feeling his forehead rest against yours. You meant every word. You hated the idea of being overwhelmed with pain or fear at the moment of your death, just as much as you hated your father using your death for his own gain. You felt like those were valid wishes from a dead woman, but maybe they were too hard for the one who had to fulfill them. 
“I can’t listen to you talk like that. Fuck—” 
Wonwoo was a cold man on most days. He didn’t have many emotions and none that would be shared with most people, but today he felt tears collecting on the rims of his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried or the last time his chest felt so heavy as he had someone in his hands. The feeling of your skin against his palm was better than anything he could imagine, and he knew he would do anything for you and do anything to keep you close to him in that moment. 
“I’m not going to kill you. I told you that. They don’t get to win. Baby… I—I mean, fuck, I told you that already.” 
Hearing “baby” slip off Wonwoo’s lips makes fresh tears slip down your cheeks. It was almost cruel the cards that the world was dealing you. In your mind, there was no way you’d be able to keep this man in front of you, so why were you once again being tortured by wanting him and his love? You were starting to understand him, or so you thought, and he wasn’t the type to keep people around or love them. 
Shaking your head, you try to lean back, wanting to make this separation easier on you and Wonwoo, but your fingers hold you to him. A sound of pain escapes Wonwoo’s lips as he slides along your arm and he shakes his head in return. 
“I’ll make you disappear; remember, I said I knew someone, and I’ll—” The words seem difficult and unplanned as Wonwoo leans back, his fingers once again trying to get rid of your tears as you meet his eyes. He looks desperate, almost like a different person—a man not willing to lose what’s in front of him. “I’ll disappear with you.” 
Wrapping your hands around Wonwoo’s wrists, you give him a confused look. There were so many questions on your mind because so many things about what he just said didn’t make sense to you. You didn’t understand how his friend could just make you disappear and go with you. 
“Why?” Now the same confusion was written on Wonwoo’s face as you asked the one word question, prompting you to speak again. “Why would you disappear with me, Wonwoo?” 
Swallowing hard, Wonwoo strokes his thumb along your cheek. That was a valid question. You had every right to ask that, and he should answer it. Furrowing his brows, Wonwoo licks his lips and glances down at yours before cursing under his breath. He knew the answer, it was just the most difficult thing he had ever admitted to another person in his life.
“I—shit, Y/N… it’s cause…” 
You watch Wonwoo struggle with his words, feeling his fingers move over your skin as his brows furrow, almost in pain at how hard he’s trying to manifest his sentence. What was so hard to say to you? Sighing, you start to pull away again when Wonwoo’s lips meet yours and you only whimper into the kiss. 
Wonwoo hopes the kiss will be enough to explain what he’s trying to say, but even as he deepens it and his tongue swipes along the seam of your lips, he knows it’s not. He can feel your hand grabbing at his bicep and the words bubble up in his throat, escaping on to your lips like a breath. 
“I love you.” 
Your eyes close tighter at Wonwoo’s words, the confession hitting you in the chest like a brick. You scratch at his arm under your fingers and let out a soft sob into the kiss, feeling him nod, almost understanding you without words. The tension in the room is thick and warm. It felt like a blanket in the middle of the summer, making you both feel like you were overheating. 
Laying you back on the bed, Wonwoo hovers over you, looking over your face, when he finally pulls back from the kiss. Your tears still flow freely from the corners of your eyes, causing him to swipe at them and shake his head, wishing he could will them away with a single word. 
“I do; I’m sorry—” 
Wrapping your hand into the front of Wonwoo’s t-shirt, pull him down hard to meet your lips, speaking against them as he starts to apologize for loving you. You silence him with your kiss, letting him settle between your thighs as you pull your knee up towards his hip. Wonwoo groans softly into your mouth, his brows finally relaxing, feeling you invite him closer to you. 
With your free hand, you run your fingers through Wonwoo's hair, arching your back as his fingers gather your dress at your hip. After nipping at your lips, he tilts back to look down at you, searching your eyes before staring at his hand as he exposes more of your skin. The air crackles with electric anticipation as desire intensifies between you and Wonwoo. Every touch and every glance fuels the growing fire within, leaving you both yearning for more, unable to resist the magnetic pull between your bodies. On an exhale, you let out a soft whine, walking your fingers along Wonwoo's jaw, your words coming out breathy and soft.
“Don’t apologize for saying that to me, Wonwoo.” 
Closing his eyes, Wonwoo turns his attention back towards you, leaning to press his lips against your wrist. He knew he had a lot to explain to you. There was a lot you didn’t understand, a lot of half truths he had told you. He didn’t wait anymore, not when he rested between your warm thighs and felt your fingers tighten on his shirt, keeping him close to you like you never wanted to lose him. He was afraid once you knew the full truth about him, you wouldn’t want him this close to you again. 
“Want you so fucking bad, princess.” 
Wonwoo’s words are quiet, his lips moving to press against your jaw as he lays his body against yours. You whine, finally letting go of his shirt in place of wrapping your arm around his waist so you can pull his shirt up his back. All that tension in the room feels like a fire burning around you when you hear him say those words out loud. 
Nodding, you lift your hips towards Wonwoo, feeling him smile against your skin before he furrows his brows and whines into a groan. Fingers slide under your dress, along your inner thigh, until finally Wonwoo finds what he was searching for. He can feel your warmth through your damp lace and it’s driving him crazy. 
Glancing up at you, Wonwoo watches your lips fall open as he uses his middle finger to press the lace between your folds. It doesn’t take more than a second for him to put pressure on your already throbbing clit, and you are wanting and needing more. 
“Please… please, more…” 
Wonwoo feels his cock twitch in at your breathy moans. Each new word on your lips—better than anything he had ever experienced. There was no other high that he could think of that could compare to the way his brain soared at such simple words slipping from between your pretty lips. He could feel himself becoming addicted to you with each breathy moan that he earned. 
He wanted to give you everything you wanted and more; it would be easy. He could move his fingers ever so slightly and have his fingers inside of you, but looking at your face, Wonwoo paused. Swallowing hard, Wonwoo puts his head down, kissing your collarbone in the process as you feel his fingers slide to your thigh. 
“Wha—Wonwoo?”
Reaching for his hand, trying to get him to go back to what he had been doing, you feel Wonwoo’s hand wrap around your wrist. Instead of letting you guide his hand, he lifts yours to his mouth, kissing your fingers as he meets yours eyes, giving you an apologetic look. 
“I do want you, baby... but I need to explain some things to you first. I need you to understand who you are letting touch you, so that if you don’t want—” 
Sliding up in the bed under Wonwoo, you cup his face, pressing your lips to his to silence him before he starts rambling. You weren’t stupid; you knew there were lies and obviously plenty weighing on his mind, but that didn’t stop you from wanting him. Meeting his eyes, you wait for him to speak, finally seeing some of the tension once again release from his face. 
“Earlier, uh, you called me Kim Wonwoo.” 
Nodding, you trace Wonwoo’s cheek as he settles on the bed in front of you. His hands slide over your legs, letting you adjust so that you are more comfortable. When you drape your leg over his, Wonwoo glances down at your exposed knee, tracing a small scar, trying to distract himself as he speaks. 
“That’s not my name. I mean, sort of. It’s Jeon Wonwoo.” 
Afraid to meet your eyes, Wonwoo draws shapes on your leg as he continues to explain his life to you. This is the only job he’s ever really known. He doesn’t explain how he got into it, but he’s hurt a lot of people and though he doesn’t say it, you understand he’s killed several people. 
“Did they deserve it?” 
The question makes Wonwoo’s throat feel like it’s closing up. That was the most difficult question he had ever been asked. This was why he didn’t have emotions or show them. You were bringing out his emotions and making his heart feel things that he hadn’t felt in decades. Watching Wonwoo lean his head back, you feel sorrow for the man in front of you. You want to fix his life, but then you remember how fucked up your own life is as he laughs sadly and shakes his head before shrugging. 
“I don’t know, babe. No, not all of them. I didn’t ask them about their morals.”
Shushing Wonwoo, you tilt his head back down to look at you as you lean to brush your lips over his again, feeling him melt under your touch and kiss. It should matter more to you about Wonwoo’s past and possibly his future, but you find that you are more concerned about how he feels about you. 
“Did I deserve it?” 
Grabbing your wrists, Wonwoo sits back, staring at you, before letting go of one hand to brush his fingers over your cheek. It was a painful question, but a fair one. You had every right to ask it and he needed to answer it no matter how much it hurt him to do it. 
“I thought you did at first. Made it easier to take you, to scare you.” Taking a breath, Wonwoo traces the shape of your ear with his fingers meeting your eyes. “But now I know you didn’t deserve any of this. I’m sorry, Y/N. If you wanna walk out that door, I’ll let you leave.” 
Wonwoo’s hand starts to drop from your face as he finishes what he needs to say. He looks defeated and certain you are going to not only kick him out of bed, but worse, you might actually want to leave. The moment his fingers drop from your jaw, you shake your head and move forward, hearing a soft, surprised gasp escape from Wonwoo’s lips when you put his back on the bed. Straddling his hips, you nudge your nose against his and tease him by brushing your lips like a whispered word along his, making him lean up to chase you before you speak. 
“I thought you said you’d disappear with me, Jeon Wonwoo?” 
His real name on your lips almost floors Wonwoo. His head resting back on the bed, Wonwoo nods, reaching up to once again cup your face with his hand as he mutters his promises. 
“I will, yes. I promise... as soon as we can.” 
Crashing your lips into his, you hear Wonwoo groan deeply at the feeling. The kiss is different, it’s almost sealing the promise and you both seem to realize that. Fingers once again slide under your dress so that Wonwoo can trace the curve of your ass as you sit down over his half hard cock trapped in his sweatpants. 
You were so warm even with his pants and your thin panties, and it was causing Wonwoo’s mind to malfunction. It had been a long time since he had let himself really enjoy sex and a woman’s body for more than just a carnal need. If this had been anyone else, it would be over in minutes without much more than a word said from either person. Everything about you had Wonwoo’s brain screaming to take his time and teach you he could be better. 
“Fuck… baby.” Groaning into something that sounds more like a whimper, Wonwoo rocks his hips up to meet yours, feeling you roll your hips over him. “Lay down, let me take care of you.” 
Smiling, you sit up, running your fingers over Wonwoo’s chest, feeling him take deep breaths under your touch. In the past, you would have agreed to something like that without question. You would be the first to admit that you were lazy in bed with other people, a bit of a pillow princess, but with Wonwoo, you wanted to be something different. He made you want to show him more, give him more. Show him he is worth more. He was worth the risk. 
Shaking your head, you slide down the length of his body, feeling Wonwoo’s eyes on you as he tells you to let him take over once again. He is silenced when your hot breath fans over the front of his sweatpants and his cock jerks almost violently in reaction. 
Pressing his head back against the bed, Wonwoo just nods, lifting his hips as your fingers press into the top of his sweatpants, working them down his thighs. Your eyes focus on his face, the way he bites at his bottom lip when his cock is exposed to the air and you for the first time. Finally looking down, you tilt your head and swallow hard, loud enough for Wonwoo to hear your reaction when your eyes move over his cock from base to tip. 
“You okay? Princess… I said, let me—” 
“Shhh, you are just so big, Wonwoo. It’s a compliment. Take off your shirt for me.” 
Your words go straight to Wonwoo’s head and make his face burn, the flush evident running from his neck to his cheeks as he lets out a slow breath. Dropping his pants into the floor, you keep your eyes on him, enjoying the view as he does as you ask, tugging his t-shirt over his head and tossing it across the room. 
Laying back reluctantly, he sits back up on his elbows as his cock leaks pre-cum against his abdomen, his eyes moving over you while you shift closer, running your hand along his thigh. 
“Baby—c’mon… Let me see you at least.” 
Smirking slightly, you work the sweater over your head as Wonwoo watches carefully. 
“I think you are being impatient.” 
Quietly laughing, Wonwoo reaches out to run his thumb along your knee, his eyes following your fingers as you work your dress up your body. 
“Maybe… but you are so fucking beautiful and you won’t let me touch you first. I was close before... you were begging me.” 
Humming in agreement with Wonwoo, you hand him your dress, watching him smile as he drops it on the floor with his clothes. His eyes stay focused on you as you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra, feeling it give way. 
“Maybe I want you to beg me instead.” 
Lifting his brow, Wonwoo takes a deep breath as your bra falls from your body. He knew you were perfect. There had been no doubt about that from the moment he first saw you as your bodyguard, but seeing you like this and feeling this way about you was a privilege. 
“I don’t beg for things, princess.” 
Tilting your head, you sit back on your ass between Wonwoo’s legs. With one leg on either side of his, you lift your hips, working your panties down. You hear his breath hitch as you lift one leg and then the other, slipping them off and letting them hang on your fingers before you offer them to him with a question in your eyes. 
“You don’t?” 
Reaching out to take your panties from you, Wonwoo scoffs when you pull them back just as his fingers graze them. He knows he could simply move and take them from you, but he knows what you want and you were making his mouth water. Licking his lips, Wonwoo tightens his jaw and meets your eyes, putting out his hand. 
“But I will for you. Please, baby? Don’t tease me.” 
Teasing Wonwoo was fun and it was powerful, but giving him something that he needed was just as rewarding. Smirking, you put your panties in Wonwoo’s hand, moving back to your knees as you watch him bring them to his nose, taking a deep breath of you. Only once he’s had his fill does he drop them next to the bed with the rest of the clothes and lick his lips, swallowing hard at the sight of you. 
"Sure, I can’t take care of you first?” 
Shaking your head, you listen to Wonwoo groan your name when your fingers wrap around his cock. He is heavy in your hand and you find yourself wanting that weight on your tongue. You want him to moan your name like that as you swallow as much of his cock as you can… so instead of answering him, you act on your desires. 
Falling back on the bed, Wonwoo curses loudly as your warm mouth wraps around him. Letting your mouth meet your hand, you moan around Wonwoo, sucking on his head as you pull back, only to sink back down over him without warning. It had been far too long since Wonwoo had been with someone even close to as determined as you in bed and that was becoming too evident as he struggled to keep himself from cumming too soon. 
“Bab—shit! Y/N… slow—ah, don’t wanna…” 
Pulling back from Wonwoo’s cock with a small popping sound, you feel his hips jerk under your hand as you continue to stroke him. Everything you had wanted from him was becoming a reality. You were dripping onto the bed under you from the sounds coming out of Wonwoo’s mouth and the taste of him on your tongue. 
Clinging to the bedding under him, Wonwoo groans loudly as you press your tongue against his slit. Not wanting to cum into your mouth, he reaches to grab at your hair, whining your name and pushing his ass against the bed, trying to get away from your mouth. 
“Wanna—please? Feels too good. Let me have you.” 
Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes again, you lick your lips, tasking the pre-cum smeared on them, listening to another groan slip from between his lips at the sight. You were going to be the death of him before he got his cock in you at this rate. 
Sitting back, you laugh when Wonwoo wastes no time turning over on the bed so he can get back between your thighs. With no lace between him and your pussy this time, he shakes his head and lets out a slow breath, lowering himself down to press kisses to your thighs before running his tongue through your wet folds. 
Wonwoo groans, his fingers gripping you tighter and pulling you closer to his mouth as he tastes you for the first time. Every worry disappears, along with every thought in his mind, as he focuses on you and nothing else. Wrapping his arm around your leg, Wonwoo adjusts himself on the bed, listening to your soft whimpering moans, driving him to make you feel even better. 
You could already feel yourself tightening around nothing as Wonwoo sucked around your clit, his fingers pushing your folds apart, giving him access to the sensitive bundle of nerves. You wanted and needed more. The desire to be full of him overwhelms your brain just as much as your impending orgasm. 
“Plea—Wonwoo…  your fingers. I need something inside of me.” 
You clearly had no idea how sexy your words were because, as soon as you spoke them, Wonwoo was trying not to thrust his hips into the mattress to find relief. Clawing at Wonwoo’s arm, you whimper his name doing your best to get what you want at your pace. Nodding, he groans, leaning back just enough to watch as he works a finger into you, feeling your tight walls suck him in. You weren’t even close to being able to handle his cock if he had to work for one finger. 
“Baby… relax.” 
Scoffing, you roll your hips down over Wonwoo’s finger as he nips at your folds, sending waves of pleasure through you. How did he expect you to relax with what was going on between your legs? Shooting him a contemptuous look, you watch as Wonwoo grins up at you before looking back at his fingers as he gently adds a second. 
“You’ve given me that look before, princess. Right before you told me you hoped I lost my job as your bodyguard.” 
Thrusting his fingers deep into you, Wonwoo watches you arch your back, a loud moan dripping off your lips like honey. There had been times before all of this, when he had been playing the part of your bodyguard when he had brief moments of weakness, picturing turning you over a surface and fucking some respect into you. If the man he was then could see him now. He imagined that man would not only be shocked at how much he had changed in such a short time, but he would probably be jealous. Who wouldn’t be jealous to see your cum dripping down his palm towards his wrist as he continued to fuck you with his fingers? 
“Yes, baby… Fuck—another one. Just like that. Cum all over my fingers; take another one.” 
A third finger slips into you and you practically scream in pleasure at how full you feel. The first orgasm had made your thighs start to shake, but the second one had come on so quickly after the first that you were crying. Tears drip from your cheeks as you push your hips down over Wonwoo’s fingers until you can’t take it anymore, the overstimulation making you close your legs around his hand. 
Giving you one more deep thrust of his fingers, Wonwoo presses his lips to your shin as he slowly and carefully slides his fingers from your warm, throbbing pussy. You were panting out your moans like a cat in heat and it was better than anything Wonwoo had ever seen or heard in his life. There was nothing staged that could measure up to you—no porn or even work of art that matched you. 
Running his hands along your knees, Wonwoo meets your eyes as he works your legs apart, feeling them shake under his touch. He knew you were still sensitive, but his cock was aching for you. Resting between your legs, Wonwoo furrows his brows, feeling your wet folds against his shaft as he rocks his hips towards you. One more questioning look, asking for permission, and getting a frantic nod from you is all it takes for him to ease himself into you. 
The feeling of Wonwoo inside of you is so much more than his fingers and it takes your breath away. Pressing your face against his neck, you gasp, feeling the stretch when he finally stops moving, his hips flush with yours. Closing his eyes, Wonwoo has to take a steady breath, feeling you clench around him, threatening to make him cum on the spot. 
“Baby, breathe… Is it too much?” 
Shaking your head, you cling to Wonwoo, afraid he will pull out and you’ll be empty again. You whine his name, leaning your head back onto the pillows, meeting his eyes. Searching your eyes for pain, Wonwoo lifts one of his hands to brush his thumb over your cheek as he waits patiently for you to adjust to him, though it takes every ounce of patience he has. 
“Okay, just tell—tell me when I can move.” 
Nodding quickly, you scratch at Wonwoo’s sides, hearing him hiss at the feeling. You were ready for him to move, but words were hard to form. You were finding it hard to think of anything other than him and the feeling of his cock buried so deep inside of you. Lifting your hips, you moan his name and Wonwoo groans, leaning to rest his forehead against yours. Warm breath fans across your lips as he nods and whispers, “Okay,” before moving slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you or himself too quickly. 
Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, more tears roll from your eyes to your temples at how good it feels to have Wonwoo inside of you. The way his cock stretches you so perfectly and how his head brushes over your spot each time pulls out enough to push right back into your warm walls. 
“Please, please, Wonwoo, baby... faster.” 
Your pleas come out as sobbing moans, causing Wonwoo to give you a concerned look, but as soon as he sees the fucked out look on your face, he can’t help but give you what you want. His thrusts become more urgent and harder. With each one, Wonwoo feels you get that much tighter around his cock until finally the coil inside you snaps. He had thought you were wet before but feeling your cum on his cock was an experience that Wonwoo knew he would never forget and it was enough to send him barreling over the edge after you. 
Resting his head against your neck, Wonwoo curses under his breath, feeling his cum seep out of you, mixing with yours. He was usually much more careful than this, but he had gotten lost in the moment. Shaking his head, Wonwoo carefully slides out of you and meets your eyes full of guilt, only to find you still full of bliss. 
“I didn’t even ask, baby. I’m sorry—” 
Sliding your hand along Wonwoo’s jaw to his neck, you shake your head and close your eyes. You knew what had happened and what could come of it, but that wasn’t something that you could concern yourself with today. Right now, you are just happy to be alive and in bed with Wonwoo. It was the first time in possibly your entire life that you were this happy and you wouldn’t let him spoil it with guilt. 
“Don’t... just tell me that you love me again.” 
Unable to stop his lips from pulling up in a smile, Wonwoo shakes his head at your reaction to the situation. Moving to lay beside you, knowing neither of you could stay like this for long without taking a shower, he pulls you into his arms and presses his lips against your neck. You smile, wrapping your arms around his. 
“I love you, Y/N.”  
“I love you too, Wonwoo.” 
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This was the longest you had seen Wonwoo sleep. Even as you ran your fingers delicately along the bridge of his nose, he barely flinched. A smile pulls at your lips at the sight and at how warm and safe you feel lying next to him as the sun rises. 
During the time that you had been awake, Wonwoo’s phone had gone off twice. You had a good feeling that the missed calls were from Park Bonhwa, but you couldn’t bear the thought of waking Wonwoo or checking his phone. There was a beautiful silence surrounding you both and not even that man could ruin it, as long as you didn’t let him. 
Tracing the dip of Wonwoo’s cupid’s bow, you watch as his lips twitch into a soft smile and his eyes slowly open. It was selfish of you to touch Wonwoo so much when he was sleeping so soundly, but seeing his eyes on you and feeling the comfort of them made it worth it. 
Pulling you into his arms, Wonwoo grunts softly at the feeling of your cold fingers sliding along his ribs. He could get used to this—waking up and seeing you first thing. He wanted to get used to it, but there were things that had to happen first. 
“Mm, morning, baby. “ 
Lips press against the top of your head and you find yourself nuzzling against Wonwoo’s chest, not wanting to face anything in the real world. You like the way his deep voice sounds when you are so close to his body, the way it seems to vibrate in his chest. Resting your ear against his chest, you smile and bite at your bottom lip, hearing Wonwoo laugh. 
“Don’t wanna get up?” 
Shaking your head, you whine, and Wonwoo runs his long fingers along your back, stopping to draw small circles along your spine before tracing each notch on his way up to your neck. He understood the sentiment and wanted to give you what you wanted. He wanted to give you everything you wanted now. 
“We need to talk about what comes next. Cheol is going to work on what we need for you to disappear, but he needs payment.” 
There was always a catch to everything. That was something that you understood from a very young age. Everything came with a price. Your father never let you think that money grew on trees. Despite knowing you were incredibly wealthy and that you could potentially have anything you wanted, he made you earn his respect before he would give you any allowance or credit cards. Your father’s respect had cost the most out of anything you had ever paid for in your life. You will never forget the day you told your mother that you loved your father more than her and watched her face fall. 
“Mmkay, how much money does he need?” 
Wonwoo shakes his head at the mention of money. Of course your mind would go to money first; that was how your father had probably raised you. It wasn’t your fault that you were the way you were; Wonwoo understood that now. You were broken because you were carefully shattered piece by piece by your father over the course of your life. 
“Not money, baby. Information. Trust me, this will be good for everyone in the end.” Smirking, Wonwoo lifts his hand from your back to scratch at his eyebrow as he scoffs at his own words, correcting them. “Almost everyone.” 
Information was a currency you were familiar with; it just wasn’t something you commonly used. You have seen your father get rich off information plenty of times. Leaning your head back, you glance up at Wonwoo, furrowing your brows as he lifts his hand to brush his fingers over your cheek. 
“About my father?”
The next couple of hours you spend against Wonwoo go through what you know about your father’s company. You tell him more about the business dinners and dates that he has set up for you over the years and though Wonwoo listens carefully, he seethes. Every new piece of information he leaves about your father makes him hate the man even more. 
It’s when you get to your mother that you find it more difficult to talk with confidence. You find strength in Wonwoo’s touch, his hands gliding over your skin as his lips press to your forehead, taking in each word. Your sorrow at losing the one person who meant something to you, becomes Wonwoo’s sorrow when tears drip from your cheek onto his chest. 
“Baby… I know this is too much. I’m sorry, we can talk more about the business side—”
“It’s okay. It’s his fault.” Rubbing your nose hard, you pull your legs under you, letting Wonwoo tuck you into his side. “I don’t know how, but I just know it is. She didn’t just die.” 
There is no doubt in Wonwoo’s mind that you are right about your assumption. With as much life insurance that your father had placed on you, he could only imagine the amount he would put on a spouse. 
“He kept reminding me after her funeral that I loved him more. He kept giving me gifts and all this money…” 
Leaning his head back against the headboard, Wonwoo tries to picture you mourning and your brute of a father wooing you out of it with possessions. The cold woman who had treated her staff like trash was just a reflection of him. 
“He’ll pay for that, Y/N. I promise.” 
You nod along with Wonwoo’s words, though you don’t understand how he plans on making that happen. In your eyes, your father was bulletproof. He was a cliff face that you kept hitting as the waves pushed you around like you were nothing. 
Tracing the shape of your bottom lip as you rest against his shoulder, Wonwoo furrows his brows, feeling concern wash over him. You had talked until you couldn’t anymore. Exhaustion had taken over you and not even having him next to you or food in your stomach was enough to keep your eyes open any longer. You looked calm like this—breathing softly against his bare skin—even as you squeezed your eyes shut a bit tighter in your sleep. 
Wonwoo carefully slides his arm from under you, letting your cheek rest against his palm as he adjusts the pillow under your head. Now you look comfortable. He hated the idea of not having you in his arms, but there was much left to do. Giving you one more glance as he swipes his phone from the nightstand, Wonwoo opens the bedroom door and closes it before making his way downstairs. 
Seungcheol was trying not to get antsy about his current situation, but the minutes were ticking by and it didn’t seem like you or Wonwoo were in a rush. So when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, the detective lets out a sigh of relief, leaning against his car. 
“I won’t lie, I had a few moments today when I thought you might be fucking me over.” 
Smirking at Seungcheol’s words, Wonwoo uses his index finger to pull the blinds ever so slightly from the window so he can check the street out of habit. 
“Just when we were starting to like one another?” 
Getting behind the wheel of the Audi, Seungcheol scoffs and presses the button to start his car. The sooner he could be away from the station, the better, especially if this conversation was going to go where he imagined it to. Hearing the sound of the engine as Seungcheol wastes no time in pulling out of the parking garage, Wonwoo shakes his head, dropping the blinds back in place and lowering himself into a nearby armchair. 
“I needed time to talk to Y/N. She’s the one with the most information, and she had plenty. Like I said, Cheol… you’ll get a promotion out of this.” 
Seungcheol can’t stop himself from taking a deep breath in anticipation. If the information was as good as Wonwoo was alluding to, this could be the best decision he has ever made. 
“I’m listening.” 
“And I have terms.” 
Of course he did. The good feeling that Seungcheol had for a fleeting moment sank right back into his chest with Wonwoo’s words. Leaning his head back against the leather headrest, Seungcheol tightens his grip on the steering wheel and narrows his eyes as he speaks. 
“Again, I’m listening.” 
Tilting his head, Wonwoo bites at his cheek out of a mixture of nerves and frustration. He knew that Seungcheol would be happy with what he had to tell him, but he had to make sure that you were taken care of. On top of that, he hadn’t known that he wanted to leave with you; that was a possible kink in the plan as far as Seungcheol might be concerned. 
“New name, meaning all IDs.” Seungcheol groans in annoyance at Wonwoo’s request; it was what he had assumed, but as soon as he starts to speak, he is cut off and rendered speechless. “For both of us.” 
“I—” 
Picking at a loose string on the chair, Wonwoo listens to Seungcheol struggle to make heads or tails of what he had just asked of him before he continues. 
“Money; we both know she can’t keep her accounts. We will need a safe flight out of Korea.” 
With his head spinning at all Wonwoo was asking of him, Seungcheol pulls his car over, putting it in park, before letting out an unamused laugh. 
“I—well fuck… anything else? Would you like for me to make her the Queen of England while I’m at it?” The amusement fades from his voice as he smacks at his dashboard. “Why are you asking for impossible things? How in the hell am I going to get you out of Korea?” 
“Figure it out, Seungcheol! Or are you not interested in bringing down her piece of shit father?” 
Throwing up his hands, Seungcheol scoffs in disbelief, unsure what could be worth giving up, Jeon Wonwoo. 
“For what? Some shady trading? The insurance policy? Give me something better than that or I’m gonna bring both of your asses in.” 
“Embezzlement, laundering, and possible murder.” 
Every snide comment and scoff that Seungcheol has been giving Wonwoo stops when he hears those words. 
“If—can she prove it?” 
Looking down at his hands, Wonwoo digs his nail into his thumb, feeling frustrated with Seungcheol and the entire situation. You shouldn't have to prove anything. It was practically being laid out for him, but he understood that some horses had to be led to water. 
“Y/N said there is a lawyer, Son Hyunwoo. Pay him enough and he’ll spill everything.” 
Typing the name into his phone and keeping Wonwoo on speaker in his car, Seungcheol nods, looking over the practice that Son Hyunwoo belongs to and some of his more prevalent clients. To the general public, his client list looked like a billboard for great service and reliability, but to a good detective, it screamed corruption. 
“This is good. If he talks, I’ll get you what you need. I’ll be in touch.” 
Wonwoo runs his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath when the phone disconnects. He hoped for your sake, more than his own, that you were right. 
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— Two Days Later —
Bonhwa glares at his phone, seeing Wonwoo’s name. The man had been avoiding him like it was his job and now, just as he was about to have the dogs on his heels, he decided it was a good time to call. Gritting his teeth, Bonhwa answers his phone while pushing the heel of his hand under his nose to clean the white powder from it with a loud sniff. 
“Wanna make this easier on everyone by bringing her to my office? I promise I won’t kill you; just break something.” 
Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo had already prepared for Park Bonhwa’s empty threats. He wasn’t afraid of him anymore than he was afraid of a dog without teeth. He knew that Bonhwa couldn’t find him, which means he couldn’t find you. With time, if the two of you stayed in Seoul, he might get a sniff on a trail, but that wasn’t happening. 
“I’ve been busy. Why are you so fuckin’ grumpy?” 
Watching Seungcheol load a suitcase into the trunk of the car as he talks to you, Wonwoo furrows his brows, hearing Bonhwa’s voice go up an octave. He knew he was pushing his buttons, but he had a reason. There was always a reason behind what Wonwoo did. 
“Why—why am I? You stupid son of a bitch! Half! I get half when I deliver proof of that bitch’s body to Hyong. Do you know how humiliating—” 
Hearing Wonwoo sigh, Bonhwa stops mid sentence to stare at the desk in front of him. He had half a mind to get in his car right now and search the entire city for Jeon Wonwoo. Feeling his phone vibrate in his hand, he furrows his brow and lets out a disgruntled sound, ready to continue telling Wonwoo off when Wonwoo speaks first. 
“Check your email. It’s done… makes no fucking sense to drive around with a body.” 
Your eyes follow Wonwoo as he paces talking to Bonhwa, you barely hear Seungcheol talking to you. Noticing you aren’t understanding what he’s telling you, the man steps in front of you, obscuring your view. 
“Can we finish our conversation now, Y/N? He’s fine. He’s taking care of what he needs to, so let’s go over the rest of this shit.” 
You weren’t sure how you felt about Choi Seungcheol. You could see why he had been the one who had gotten close to Wonwoo, he was tenacious and abrasive. Nodding, you watch as Seungcheol lifts his brows and leans to take a folder out of his car, showing it to you. 
“ID, passport, some cash... Wonwoo knows how to get more when it’s needed. This won’t be like the pampered life you had before, so—” 
“You don’t know anything about me, Seungcheol.” 
In the short time that he had known you, Seungcheol had heard you speak a handful of times. You had to let Wonwoo speak for you or at least let him carry the conversations. To say that he perhaps had a skewed view of you based on what he knew about your father and researching you, would be an understatement. 
“Maybe not, but I’m just saying... make it last. Keep your mouth shut.” 
Holding out your hand for the folder, you lock eyes with Seungcheol as he places it in yours. 
“I’m not stupid.” 
A smirk pulls at one side of the detective’s lips at your words. That he did know. There was no way Wonwoo would put this much effort into keeping you alive if you were. Letting go of the folder, Seungcheol takes a step back and glances back to Wonwoo as he grunts, bending the phone in his hand with some effort. The screen shatters first and then the metal gives way, effectively destroying the device before he tosses it towards the river, listening to the dull thud when it hits the surface. 
“That bullshit is done. He’s satisfied with what you came up with.” 
Scoffing, Seungcheol shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, feeling a bit offended at the insinuation that anyone wouldn’t be satisfied with his work. He had gone above and beyond for this. You had been lucky that the information you had provided for him had been the best he had received in a long time. It had served as motivation for what Seungcheol saw as a work of art. 
“Yeah? Well maybe you should have dealt with pulling a Jane Doe out of the morgue.” 
Wonwoo exhales an unamused laugh, sliding his hand around your waist. He knew that Seungcheol had worked hard and he appreciated it. He could almost taste freedom and it was a strange sensation. 
“No thanks. I’ll leave that to the professionals.” Leaning to kiss the side of your head, Wonwoo gives you a once over before glancing back at the car, seeing it packed. “Ready to go?” 
You had no idea where you and Wonwoo were going. He and Seungcheol told you that in case things went south, it was better for you to know less. While you understood that, it still made leaving your entire life behind even more terrifying. Still, as you meet Wonwoo’s eyes, seeing that reassuring look in them, you manage to nod. 
“Perfect, can’t wait to get you both out of my hair.” 
Wonwoo grins at Seungcheol’s words, knowing that while he was trying to crack a joke, there was a layer of truth to them, especially concerning himself. 
“Don’t worry, Cheol. We won’t darken your doorstep again.” 
Taking a step backwards, towards his own car, Seungcheol points at Wonwoo as he speaks. 
“I’ll fuckin’ hold you to it. Show your face around here again and I’ll throw your ass in a cell.” 
Shaking his head, Wonwoo turns his attention back to you, reaching to open the passenger's side door. He lets you sit down as he looks down at you, much like he did a week ago under much different circumstances. 
“Where are we going, Wonwoo?” 
You watch curiously as he tilts his head and purses his lips, trying to think of how to tell you the answer without actually answering it. 
“Did you pack a bikini?” 
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