For You
Anniversary Request Special
Description: You and Minho are a little more than just an heiress and her bodyguard, but you know your parents would never approve of a relationship like this unless...
Warning: anxiety, injury
Word Count: 2.1k
Pairing: fem!reader x bodyguard!Minho
He is buttoning up his shirt after a warm shower when his phone buzzes. He smirks at your caller ID on the screen before picking it up. “What, miss me alr—”
“Hi. Sorry to bother you.”
Minho drops his smile and grips his phone tighter at the tone of your voice. Panic bubbles in his chest. “Is something wrong?”
“No, it’s not like that. I’m just… out right now, and it got dark a little quicker than I thought. I know you’re off the clock on Sundays, but—”
“It’s okay. I'm coming to get you. Where are you?”
“I’m near the 7-11 near your house. The one with the blue umbrellas in front.”
“Okay. Go inside for now. I’m coming.”
“Alright. Thank you, Minho. And sorry.”
“Don’t be; it’s my job. Call again if something happens before I get there.”
“Okay.”
“Alright, I’ll be there shortly.”
Minho doesn’t even bother drying his hair and dashes out the door. He runs and runs, unease crawling up his skin, but when he sees you through the window of the convenience store, his stomach completely drops. There you stand with your shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around yourself, and knees bowed in, a stark contrast to the proud heiress he is used to seeing.
The worker who is leaning over the counter seems to be saying something as Minho bursts in. “If you aren’t buyin’, pay for your loitering with cha number, sugar.”
Minho slaps a bill on the counter and takes a bag of chocolates. “There. She’s a customer,” he hisses. Turning to you who looks shocked by his sudden appearance, he asks, “Are you okay?”
You nod dumbly.
“Okay. Let’s get out of here.” He puts a hand on the small of your back and guides you to the door, using himself to shield you from the eyes of the worker.
He thought you’d relax a little after getting away from the creep, but your posture remains closed off. He wants to ask why but does not know if you’re ready for that yet. Instead, you break the silence first.
“Thank you for coming, and sorry for ruining your Sunday.”
“Y/N, you know I’m always ready to be by your side.”
He looks for clues. You have on a deep blue dress, minimal jewelry, and light makeup. In other words, effortlessly enchanting, but that’s not important; you went to something fancy but not overly formal. A first date? Minho’s heart starts racing at the thought. He needs to know. “What were you doing out here by yourself?”
You bite your lip. Instead of answering, you tug on the cuff of his shirt gingerly with the tips of your fingers. “I-is it alright if I don’t talk about it?”
His chest breaks at how fragile your voice is. He stops in his tracks and looks at you.
“I-is it not?” you squeak.
“Of course it is.”
“Then why are you—”
“You look like you need this.”
He steps up to you under the streetlight and wraps you into a hug, gently stroking your back.
“Minho!” you gasp. “What if someone sees?”
You’re an heiress. Your choices of men are Chan from JY Group, Changbin from Seo Enterprise, or even Jisung from Han Motors. Lee Minho the bodyguard is definitely not on that list even if your heart is taking flight from this small gesture of endearment.
“Why does that matter?” he hushes you.
“If Father finds out, you’d lose your job.”
“I’d rather that than not be able to be here for you when you need it,” he says plainly and holds you tighter when you try to push him away.
Gradually, he feels you give up and give in to his embrace. Finally, he feels you begin to shake as tears escape your eyes.
“It was so scary,” you whimper. “I was so scared.”
Your words are like hammers battering his chest,making it impossible to breathe. He holds you tighter and speaks quietly, letting the vibration of his voice calm you.
“It’s okay. You’re okay now. I’m right here. Nothing can hurt you.”
You arrive at the gates of your house, an empty bag of convenience store chocolates between your fingers.
“Minho?”
“Yes?”
“Father can’t know what happened. Are my eyes swollen?”
He turns you by the shoulder so he is directly looking into them. “Not at all. They’re—”
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees your father approaching, and cuts his sentence short. “Good evening, Mister L/N,” he greets.
“Ah, Minho. What are you doing here on a Sunday?”
“I found Miss Y/N around my neighborhood and thought it best to escort her home.”
“You found her around your neighborhood?”
“Yes, I was just taking an evening stroll.”
“Evening stroll?” he echoes yet again. The old man looks at the younger one’s wet, unbrushed hair.
Minho can’t do a thing but cough nervously, knowing how weak his lie is.
Thankfully, your father does not comment further. He looks between the two of you and smiles to himself. “Alright. Since you’re here, you should escort her all the way to the house.”
“Yes, sir,” Minho bows. When he straightens up again, he grins at you. “Shall we go?”
You nod with a smile of your own. “Thank you, Minho. Really.”
“Like I said, I’m always here for you.”
He cheekily takes your hand in his and hides it behind his back in case your father turns around.
“Oh, and Y/N?” he whispers.
“Hm?”
He swipes an eyelash that fell with your tears from your cheek. “They’re not swollen; they’re beautiful.”
Your father coughs loudly in front of you.
The following week, you accompany your parents to a showing of the latest models of Han Motors. Of course, this means Minho is to lurk around in the shadows and follow you all night. At least, that’s what he’s supposed to do instead of being dragged out to the main floor by you to discuss which refreshment tastes the best.
“You know, if you wanted to spend time with me, you could have just said so,” Minho teasingly whispers into your ear.
“Shush and try this.” You roll your eyes and stuff a truffle-topped cracker between his lips.
Minho chews for a moment before commenting, “Not great. Better than the cherry thing earlier, but the truffles your uncle gave you last time was better.”
You take one and mull over it yourself. “You’re right. This one’s too sweet.”
“Like someone I know,” he sighs off-handedly.
You snort. “I can’t tell if you’re talking about me or yourself.”
He raises a brow. “Oh, so you think I’m worthy of being called ‘sweet?’”
“Good gracious,” you roll your eyes.
The two of you have tried less and less to suppress your flirting. Thankfully, most of your comments are made in indecipherable whispers or behind closed doors, so most people haven’t noticed, but those who did definitely have a thing or two to say about it.
“Y/N!” Your mother’s voice breaks your conversation.
You walk quickly past displays of shiny luxury cars to where she is. “Yes, Mother?”
She looks past you at Minho. “This does not involve you.”
Without missing a beat, he bows. Before he leaves though, you flash him a hand signal. Stay nearby.
“You should meet the Hans’ son tonight,” your mother tells you after Minho is gone from her sight.
“Mother, I’ve already met him at my birthday party last year.”
“Yes, but this time, meet him as a man like you’re supposed to, you understand?”
“Mother, Jisung already has his eyes on—”
“Madam Han!” your mother calls before you can even finish your sentence. You close your eyes to roll them and let your shoulders slouch, knowing exactly what is going to happen.
The said woman walks over, her son in tow to help his mother introduce new cars. “Madam L/N! It is good to see you.”
First the sweet talk.
“Your face is smaller every time I see it. How do you do it?”
“Oh, you flatter me!”
Then an indirect indication of true intentions.
“It’s the truth! You simply must tell me your secrets. In the meantime, let’s have our children play amongst themselves.”
Madam Han quickly understands her implication. “Of course! They must be bored being around us old ladies. Jisung dear, take care of Miss Y/N, won’t you?”
“Yes, Mother,” he promises obediently.
You watch as the two women walk away in a fit of faux compliments. Despite leaving the two of you alone, you know they have hawk eyes on you to make sure you do as they intend.
“So,” you decide to play along, “we, uh, meet again, Jisung.”
“Yep.” He clasps his hands in front of him and looks around nervously. Not much of a conversationalist, you note.
“Tell me about this car.” You motion towards a blue SUV nearby.
“Ah, yes!” You can see the boy light up from having something he can actually talk about. “This is the Model YG. It is a family car, but it certainly does not leave out the power and class of a…”
You soon tune him out. You both know you have no interest in cars anyway, and he’s just glad to have something to fill the silence with. Your eyes begin to wander, and you catch sight of something darting around. You first pass it off as your imagination, but when you see it again, alarms go off in your head.
You grab the arm next to you. “Minho.”
Jisung looks at you inquisitively. “I’m Jisung.”
“Sorry,” you apologize. “I need to find my bodyguard. I think there’s something—”
Just then, a low whistle cuts through the air. You look up and see the giant chandelier above you beginning to tilt.
“Run!”
Unfortunately, you are right at the center of the whole structure. You bolt away right behind Jisung, but there is just no way your stupid heels can keep up with his powerful strides. There isn’t much time. You aren’t going to make it. You can hear the lower hanging parts of the light structure crashing and shattering when someone tackles you to the floor, shielding you with his own body.
“Minho!”
He lets out a hallowed gasp as a metal rod strikes him in the back. He struggles to regain his breath but keeps his eyes trained on you.
“I’m okay. I’m okay,” you repeat, knowing that’s what he wants to hear most.
It’s your turn to worry about him now as he continues struggling to breathe. You help him sit upright, trying to avoid touching the million shards of glass impaling his skin.
“Miss L/N!” You turn and see Jisung calling you from the perimeter of the mess. Thankfully, he does not look too scathed. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, I’m—”
“Get away from my daughter!”
Amidst the panic and army of security running about, everyone looks up at your mother fuming on the second floor. It is only then you realize how intimate your position with Minho is. You’re seated between his legs, turned towards him, and he has his arms around you, using your body to press on his spazzing diaphragm.
A new voice directs everyone’s attention. “Are you crazy?” It is your father this time, pulling his wife away from the railings. “He just saved her! What are you doing?”
“Jisung was supposed to save her!”
“Jisung saved himself! Can’t you see? Minho’s the one who’s willing to risk himself for our daughter. What more do you have against that?”
You blush under the eyes your parents’ conversation has put on you, but Minho does not back down. He keeps you covered as you shrink in embarrassment.
“Jisung just needs more time with her!” your mother continues. “He’ll learn to love her!”
“Like you ever learned to love me? How many years have we been married? How many years have we tried to learn to love? Do you really wish the same thing for our daughter?”
A wave of gasps ripple through the building. Security has caught the criminals who sabotaged the convention, but no one cares. You can feel your stock prices dropping. You and your family are going to be on the front cover of every gossip magazine tomorrow. You struggle to find something— anything— to distract the crowd from what was just said. You need something big— something even bigger than your father’s confession.
In the midst of your dilemma, it is Minho who speaks first. “Let’s date.”
Another gasp echoes across the crowd. At least that did the trick.
“What are you doing?” you whisper-scream at him.
“What?” he says not-so-quietly. “Your father’s giving me permission. We might as well make it official. I promise to protect you and cherish you for the rest of our lives. What do you say, Y/N?”
Jisung is the first to start chanting, “Say yes! Say yes!” and is soon joined by the rest of the party-goers. Your mother nearly faints and your father beams proudly.
“Okay,” you finally agree.
“Then kiss me,” he prompts, and you do.
