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labellefleur-sauvage · 10 months

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The Highland Fox and The English Rose

Summary:

Elain Archeron, the middle daughter of an enterprising English merchant, has been raised with one goal in mind: become the wife of a respectable Englishman. Everything else—her interests, her desires—didn’t matter. But when her father convinces her to enter into an arranged marriage with a brutal Scottish Laird to save their family from ruin, Elain is suddenly forced to reevaluate everything she thought she wanted in life.

As the newly appointed Laird of a derelict clan with a crumbling castle, marriage was the last thing on Lucien’s mind. His entire life is thrown into disarray when he is forced into a marriage contract he didn’t sign, to an Englishwoman he’d never met.

But Lucien harbors a dark, ruinous secret that affects more than just himself, and he is determined to resolve the issue at hand. Together, the Highland Fox and the English Rose will go on a journey that will force Elain and Lucien together—or drive them apart.

Read on AO3. Masterlist.

XXX

Chapter 3: You Have Taken What is Before Me and What Is Behind Me

“Beg yer pardon, maam, but I doona’ think ‘helping out in the kitchen’ is somethin’ the Lady of the Hoose like yerself should be doin’, y’ken.”

Elain scowled, then turned and put on her most charming face for the head maid. “But Alis, surely going downstairs to conduct a thorough review of the kitchen and its staff is well within my duty as Lady of the House, correct?”

“Frankly ma'am, tis no’,” Alis replied shortly. “As head maid, it’s mah job to oversee the runnin’ of the castle, especially those areas tha’ the Laird and his wife should never haf tah see.”

“It’s not going to kill me to go downstairs and get my hands a bit dirty,” Elain shot back, hands on her hips.

“It verra well might!” Alis said, a hand on her chest, like the thought of Elain going into the kitchens gave her heart palpitations.

“Yes, death by oats, I’m sure we’d be the shame of Scotland if that were to happen!”

“Aye, tis it exactly!” Alis replied, triumph in her dark eyes.

Elain frowned. She needed to try a different tactic. “I know the castle has been without a Lady of the House for quite some time—“

“Aye—the old Laird was a confirmed bachelor. I’ve been managin’ this keep for well over fifty years!”

“And you’ve done a wonderful job,” Elain said placatingly. She was being somewhat serious—despite being slightly drafty, barren and missing a few stones here and there, the castle at least ran smoothly from what she had seen, all held together by the slight woman standing in front of Elain. “But wouldn’t it be nice to have someone else helping you?”

“Aye, it would, but it won’t be ye,” Alis said with a finality that made Elain realize she lost this fight. “It’s no’ proper for the Lady of the Hoose to wander down to the kitchens, or, or, gallivant outside in the woods, or ask to dust, for goodness sake!”

“Well, perhaps I can—“

“No,” Alis said. “There are plenty of other things ye can do to occupy yer time, like reading, or sewing.”

“For twelve hours a day, though?” Elain cried.

“Ye’ll be much busier when ye and the Laird start having bairns,” Alis said shrewdly, and Elain’s stomach dropped. “If there’s any advice ye need on getting started…”

“Er, no, that’s quite alright,” Elain stammered, blushing wildly. “I think I do actually have a bonnet to sew, goodbye!”

Elain fled, Alis’s throaty chuckles fading behind her as she rushed down hallways and staircases, uncaring of where she was going. She found herself at the doors of the library and pushed them open, sighing with relief when she saw that Nesta had vacated the premises for a time.

Elain sat down wearily on a low couch. How embarrassing, for Alis to point out what surely everyone in the castle knew: that Elain and Lucien weren’t even resting in the same bed at night together, much less seeing enough of each other to make a child.

The embarrassment she felt now still paled in comparison to her wedding night two weeks ago, when she brazenly dropped the bedsheet hiding her bare body from Lucien’s gaze. Elain had been a little tipsy, true, and wanted to be the brave and fierce woman she needed to be to thrive in Scotland… and apparently she thought showing her naked body to her new husband would accomplish that.

Not that Lucien had objected. She had watched him staring at her flesh, dumbstruck, as his eye slowly traveled down her body, his mouth gaping like a fish. Elain had observed him, too, particularly the bulge under his kilt that grew and grew the more he openly looked at her body. Rather than frighten her, as her aunts had warned her, the sight of his covered manhood had only excited her.

She groaned. Elain hadn’t been able to even look Lucien in the face the next morning at a terse, private breakfast between the two of them, and she had excused herself at the first moment she was able. Since then, she and her husband had been playing a competitive game of cat and mouse, with the twist being neither one wanted to win. At this point, though, Elain wouldn’t object to running into Lucien, frustrated and embarrassed as she was, if only because it would give her something to do.

Elain absentmindedly grabbed a book laying on the table and flipped it open. She had been spending more time in the library here than she’d ever spent in one before, if only because it was somewhere different than her formal sitting room. There she could sew, or gaze out the window at the pretty loch with its brilliantly blue waters… and that was it.

Now, she found herself looking at a map of the Scottish highlands, with major towns and monuments drawn in along the numerous clan lines. Her eyes darted over the page—there were the Vanserra clan lines, far to the southeast; to the east were the Norse-descended MacDonnells. There was a large port town called Adriata to the south, a bog not too far from here, a sprawling settlement in the northern mountains called Velaris, a lonely island off the northeast coast with a single monument called Sangravah—

There were a few knocks on the door. Elain closed the book and tossed it on the table—it was probably Nesta, coming to check on Elain for the hundredth time in the past two weeks. “Come in,” she called dully.

“Ye look like ye could do with some cheering up.”

Elain lifted her head. The beautiful, red-haired woman Lucien had looked so happy talking to at the wedding was peering around the door, taking in Elain all alone in the library. “Unless ye prefer the company of books over people.”

Elain stared, too shocked at the woman’s abrupt appearance to offer a greeting or ask her who she was.

“You doona ken who I am, do ye?”

At Elain’s shaking head, the woman sighed deeply. “I hate to break it to ye, Elain, but yer husband is an eejit. Cannae even be bothered to let his poor wife know that company is coming. I’m Vassa Fraser, Laird of Clan Fraser.”

Elain was stunned. “Laird? Women can be lairds?”

Vassa shrugged, shutting the door behind her and walking towards Elain. “Me dad didna have anyone else to pass the title to.”

“And everyone just… accepted that?”

“Och, no,” Vassa said, smiling cruelly, “but I made it quite clear that if I wasna the next Laird of Clan Fraser, there would be no Clan Fraser at all.”

Elain swallowed, unnerved by this new Laird. “I apologize that I wasn’t here to greet you, Laird Fraser,” Elain said stiffly, resorting to the politeness that had been drilled into her at a young age.

“Tch, say nothing of it,” Vassa said, sitting down casually on a couch across from Elain. “It’s no’ yer fault yer fool of a husband cannae be bothered to notify his wife of visitors. I can give his ears a good clapping, if ye want me to.”

She spoke so plainly and intimately of Lucien. The jealousy that she’d felt at seeing Vassa and Lucien talking at their wedding flared inside her. “Do you know Lucien well, then?”

“Aye,” Vassa said cheerfully. “He helped me take the Clan’s title by force several years ago. He literally beat back the other contenders so I could claim the throne, so to speak. Lucien’s deadly with a sword when it comes down to it.”

There it was—more casual violence from these people. Elain wasn’t sure she’d ever fully get used to it. Still, the trepidation Elain felt towards Vassa was nothing compared to the envy she felt at this woman having some type of closing relationship with Lucien. “Is that the extent of your… relationship with Lucien?” she asked coldly.

Vassa’s eyes widened slightly at Elain’s frosty tone. “Aye, it is,” she said, far more gently than Elain thought she’d respond. “We’re verra close friends and fellow lairds—nothing more.”

Elain exhaled. “I—good, thank you.”

“Besides,” Vassa smirked, “I already have my hands full with my own man. He’s English himself.”

Elain perked up. “Really? How did he come to be up here?” With you , went unspoken.

“Part of the English military sent to crush the, er, slight rebellion my own wee fight to take the Fraser title caused,” Vassa admitted with a wince. “He took one look at me and threw down his weapons right then and there.”

“I see. Sounds… exciting.”

“More exciting than sitting alone in a library in a cold castle,” Vassa noted. “How are ye getting on?”

Elain blinked, startled at the abrupt shift in topic. “All right. I’m settling in.”

“Has Lucien been showing ye around? Helping ye?”

“Er, well, he’s very busy, isn’t he?”

Vassa huffed an unimpressed laugh. “Aye, but ye should be his priority at the moment. Tell me plainly: how are ye doing?”

Elain took a moment to study Vassa. Her bright red was cut short, falling to her shoulders in slight waves. A pair of the brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen gazed back at her steadily, undeterred by the foreign English woman in front of her. Vassa was fierce and proud, a true Scotswoman. She remembered Eris’s advice from the night of the wedding: speak plainly and be direct.

“I’m bored,” Elain began, sitting up straight. “I have nothing to do here. The staff won’t let me do anything they fear is unbecoming of my station—I can’t go outside the castle walls, nor do anything to help run the castle, even though I’m its new Lady.”

“Are ye surprised the staff at the castle are so similar to your English staff across the wall?”

Elain blushed. “Yes. I thought—“

“That we’d be boorish brutes eating out of our hands and sleeping on the ground?”

Elain scoffed. “Well now, I didn’t think it was quite that desperate up here.”

Vassa grinned. “That’s alright. The Highlands aren’t as fine as what yer accustomed to in England—”

“I’m not concerned about that,” Elain tsked. “I had few freedoms in England. I thought Scotland would be different, that as a married woman I’d have more allowances than before, but it’s been the opposite. I could at least take a stroll into the neighboring villages by myself back in England. It’s incredibly frustrating,” Elain ended bitterly.

Vassa sighed. “Aye, most Scottish women aren’t too limited in their day to day lives but yer no’ a Scottish woman. I know, it’s no’ fair,” Vassa said when Elain tried to interject. “Some folks this far north… don’t care much for the English, and Lucien is a new Laird himself. Suddenly he has a foreign new wife, rather than marrying the daughter of one of his minor lords or land owners, to gain their favor? Until people can be trusted, ye may need to stay safe in the castle,” she ended delicately.

"So I am to suffer alone until Lucien’s people decide they’re not going to harm me?”

“Well, ye have yer sisters for a time, don’t ye?”

Elain huffed a laugh. “My sisters are driving me insane with their constant worrying and nattering and complaining. My eldest Nesta does nothing but make snide remarks about the state of the castle and Lucien, and Feyre leaves in order to explore the countryside on her own, regardless of the consequences. They bicker about everything, then tut about how sorry they are that I’m stuck here for life.” Elain took several deep breaths to calm her racing heart. “It’s so annoying!”

Vassa chuckled. “I’ve no sisters but plenty of girl cousins—it’s the same everywhere. They’re always criticizing me and fussing over me in the same breath.”

“How do you deal with it?”

“I ignore them,” Vassa said simply. “At the end of the day most of them are a bunch of daft bampots that are taking their frustrations out on me. And I have Jurian to talk to, relieve some… stress, y’ken.”

“Must be nice,” Elain muttered.

Vassa arched an eyebrow. “Do ye not see Lucien enough?”

Elain held her tongue. Perhaps the worst indignity of her entire situation was that her new husband couldn’t even be bothered to check on her and make sure she was settling in alright. She knew Lucien was busy— running a clan was difficult—but Elain was apparently dead last on his list. The resentment towards Lucien that had slowly been growing ever since their wedding day threatened to bubble over, but Elain kept herself in line.

“That’s something I can discuss with him the next time I see him, whenever that might be,” Elain said bitterly.

Vassa swore and shook her head. “That fuckin’ doolally,” she muttered to herself. “Absolute roaster.” Vassa looked at Elain thoughtfully. “Do ye enjoy the gardens?”

Elain raised an eyebrow. “The flowers and trees, outside,” Vassa went on. “Do ye ken where it’s at?”

“Yes,” Elain said slowly, trying to figure out why Vassa changed the conversation so abruptly.

“It’s particularly lovely at night, under the full moon, like tonight,” Vassa replied, looking at Elain pointedly. “It might be good for ye to be out there. Tonight especially.”

“Er, alright,” Elain said unsteadily. “Perhaps, after dinner—“

“No! Ye should definitely wait until much later. Midnight, or just before.”

Elain tilted her head. “Is this some sort of joke?”

“Not at all, Elain,” Vassa said happily. “The garden is so lovely at night—“

“As you keep repeating.”

“That I think it would be verra good for ye to be out there tonight,” Vassa ended, looking far too pleased with herself.

“Perhaps I shall take a midnight stroll in the garden then,” Elain said slowly. She didn’t think Vassa was trying to trick her or be cruel but it was a very peculiar insistence to ask of Elain.

“Good, good!” Vassa stood up. “Is there anything else on your mind?”

“Actually,” Elain began slowly, remembering something that had been bothering her since her wedding night, “how exactly are Lucien and Eris Vanserra related? Lucien said they were brothers but they have different surnames.”

“Ah.” For the first time, Vassa looked supremely uncomfortable. “They, ah, they’re blood brothers.”

“So Lucien was born a Vanserra?”

“Aye,” Vassa hesitantly agreed, looking anywhere but Elain’s face.

“But he’s somehow Laird of Clan Macpherson?”

“His mother was a Macpherson.”

“If Eris is older than Lucien, why wasn’t he chosen to become Laird of Clan Macpherson?”

“Will ye look at the time,” Vassa said, looking around. “I have a meeting to attend—with Lucien, I’ll make sure to clap him around the ears for ye—so I’ll see you at dinner, aye?”

“Yes, but—oh! Goodbye!”

Vassa flitted away, her long tartan dress trailing after her. Elain was left with far more questions than answers.

Nesta came into the library shortly thereafter, and just like she had been doing the past two weeks, immediately began alternating between complaining about the castle and clucking after Elain. Feigning a headache, Elain rushed back to her bedroom and threw herself on her bed.

She shouldn’t have set such lofty expectations for herself, Elain realized. She was only setting herself up for disappointment and heartache. It was clear Lucien wanted nothing to do with her, and while she had hoped for that on the way to Scotland, Elain at least thought he’d spend some time getting to know her, or that she wouldn’t be a prisoner in her new home.

Elain sighed and began getting ready for dinner. She’d go to the garden tonight, as Vassa had urged, and she’d begin the long and sad process of accepting that she was in a lonely marriage for the rest of her days.

XXX

“So, how’s the pretty new English wife?” Tamlin asked.

Lucien grit his teeth. If one more person asked him how his marriage was going…

In truth, most days he forgot he was a married man. He and Elain slept in separate beds in separate rooms nowhere near each other, they never supped together, and they never exchanged more than a brief hello when they passed each other in the halls, and even that was rare.

And for what would be the best part of a marriage for any man, well… it was difficult to convince your wife to lay with you when she wouldn’t even look at you. Not that Lucien had even tried to convince Elain of the mutual benefits of a sexual relationship.

Was he tempted to risk everything he’d been planning for months on the chance to spend some time between his wife’s luscious thighs? God help him, he was. Whenever he thought of their disastrous wedding night, the only thing he could remember was a flushed and angry Elain proudly and unabashedly standing naked in front of him before his bed, her curvy body on full display. It was the most unexpected sight he’d ever witnessed, and Lucien thought that perhaps his English wife wasn’t quite the meek dormouse he had assumed she was. He had never gotten so hard just from seeing a bare woman before. His mind often wandered on its own, imagining what she tasted like, how she’d feel wrapped around his cock, what sounds would escape that pretty little mouth as he fucked her…

But he couldn’t get distracted. Between caring for his lands, the castle, managing his new trade routes and the fragile relationships he was cultivating with various lords and lairds of all of Scotland, and putting the finishing touches on his soon to be enacted plan, he had no time to spend any time with his wife, sexual or not. Lucien did feel a little guilty—he could imagine how frightened Elain must be, cooped up in a drafty castle with no one but her sisters to keep her company—but Lucien couldn’t think of that right now. At least, here in the castle, she was safe.

“She’s fine,” Lucien answered eventually. Probably true.

“Is she adjusting to Scotland well enough?”

“Er, aye, I believe so. Some of the food is a bit off putting for her, but she’ll get there.”

“It’s a shame her father left so soon. Perhaps that would have settled her down a bit.”

“Small mercies,” Lucien muttered. Mr. Archeron had hopped onto a departing wagon train the morning after the wedding, barely waiting to say goodbye to his daughters before he left to inspect the trade routes and roads to which he had bartered his daughter and forced Lucien into.

“Do ye see her much throughout the day?”

“Eh, not so much,” Lucien answered awkwardly. “We, uh, both appreciate our solitude.”

Tamlin nodded like he understood this perfectly. “All of the sisters appear to appreciate their own solitude.”

Lucien grunted noncommittally, too focused at the moment on balancing the estate’s ledger. They were only slightly in the red at the moment, rather than swimming in it like in previous months.

“Nesta does spend a significant time alone in the library,” Lucien said. “And Elain…” What was Elain up to? He certainly never saw her enough to ask, and none of the staff bothered to keep him up to date on her comings and goings. “Elain is learning how to run the estate,” Lucien finished lamely.

“Feyre spends much of her time outdoors,” Tamlin supplied. He stood at the window, staring out over the wide forests that stretched beyond what their eyes could see. “She’s quite the huntress.”

“Interesting,” Lucien deadpanned, trying to look engrossed in his work so Tamlin would take the hint and leave.

“Perhaps I will arrange a hunting party and ask her to come.”

“Sure.”

“And perhaps I’ll invite her to my lands when she and her sister depart, for a short stay,” Tamlin went on, eyeing Lucien from the side of his gaze.

“If it pleases ye,” Lucien said, making a show of rubbing his eye and fiddling with his eyepatch.

Tamlin hummed. “I think I see Feyre in the courtyard now—perhaps I’ll see if she needs someone to accompany her.”

“Aye, aye, very good,” Lucien said, quickly standing up and escorting a thoughtful Tamlin out of his study with a few thumps on the back. “Feel free to borrow one of the horses—not Ajax, he’s a bit of a bastard, but one of the mares, like Daffodil.”

Finally Lucien was alone, but not for long. Three soft raps on his door, then Jurian quietly let himself into Lucien’s office.

“Where’s Vassa?”

“Said she needed to make a detour before our meeting. She'll be along when she’s ready. Is everything all packed? Food, clothes, maps, weapons?”

“Aye,” Lucien answered. “I’ve double checked everything, left plenty of notes without the exact details to Dougal, ye and Vassa and her men will patrol my borders while I’m gone—I think we’ve done everything we can.”

“What are you doing if the weather delays you?”

“Press on even at night,” Lucien answered, their practiced what-if scenarios fresh in his mind. “Trade Ajax for a fresh horse, if it comes to it.”

“And what if the roads aren’t as friendly as you expect?”

“Put my sword to good use,” Lucien said darkly. He didn’t want to have to kill anyone on his journey, but if it came between him and his goal…

“Not your pistol?”

“Only for emergencies. I doona have much ammunition, and it’s more for decoration than protection,” Lucien admitted, taking the heavy gun out from his desk. It was one of the few possessions he had taken from Clan Vanserra when he left, more as a final statement to Laird Vanserra than anything else. It was covered in bronze plating and delicate, black filigree along the barrel and chamber. “Lot of good this’ll do me on the road.”

They continued rehearsing the plan. A nervous weight settled in the bottom of Lucien’s stomach. So much was riding on him, and so much could go wrong at any one moment.

The door to his study slammed open and Vassa strode in, her eyes blazing with fury. Both Lucien and Jurian shrunk back as she advanced on them.

“Ye, Lucien, are an ass!” she shrieked, swinging her arm back and punching his shoulder, then unsheathing her dirk and pressing it to his bare neck.

“What the hell are ye on about?” Lucien gasped, his shoulder aching and heart racing. He tried to lean away from the metal at his skin but Vassa only pressed it harder against him.

“Have ye been completely neglecting Elain for the past two weeks? She’s miserable and lonely! Have ye even uttered a friendly word to her at all?”

“I’ve been busy, as you well know!” Lucien snapped. “After this is taken care of—“

“Oh, ye were just casually going to go on yer way and come back months later and expect Elain to be waiting like a faithful pet? What’s wrong with ye, ye daft fuckin’ fool!”

Lucien flushed. “It’s safer for her this way!”

“Perhaps, but ye could have at least gotten to know her a bit, taken her for a damn walk, do the bare fuckin’ minimum a husband should do for his wife!” Vassa’s eyes were blazing and her hand was shaking with rage. Lucien winced as he felt the trembling dirk in her hand nick the soft skin of his neck.

“Vassa,” Jurian said sharply, “I doubt slashing Lucien’s neck would make Elain any happier.”

“I’m no’ sure about that,” she said darkly, withdrawing her blade and sheathing it. “She asked me what happened to ye that made ye take the name Macpherson.”

Lucien froze, his hand half-way to his throat. “And what did ye tell her?”

“That she’s better off asking ye directly. And ye will, I’ll make sure of it.”

Lucien relaxed. “Aye, I will. But if I tell her that, I’ll have to tell her everything.”

“And what’s so bad about that?”

“The less she knows, the safer she’ll be,” Lucien snapped. He brushed his hand over his throat; his thumb came back slightly bloody. “Ye know what some of those Lairds would do to someone like Elain if they turned their attention to her, just based on where she’s from. She’s so innocent and delicate—“

Vassa snorted. “I doona ken about that, based on what she had to say to me. But promise ye’ll talk to her before ye leave.”

“I promise,” Lucien said, his stomach tightening even further as he lied to his dearest friends.

It was far too dangerous to trust Elain with this, to bring her into his closet circle so soon after meeting her. Afterwards, when everything had settled, he would woo Elain properly—she deserved that, and selfishly, Lucien didn’t plan on staying celebite for the rest of his life.

To get to that point, he had this one final task in front of him. Unrolling a map, the three of them bent over his desk, making the final preparations for his journey.

XXX

Dinner that night was an awkward affair.

As there were numerous guests at the castle—Vassa and Jurian, and another Laird friend of Lucien’s, Tamlin Stewart, plus Nesta and Feyre—the staff had nicely done up the ornate wooden head table that hadn’t been used since Elain’s wedding night. A fine lace tablecloth was spreading over the table, and the most delicious scents and foods—mouthwatering roast chickens, the skin golden brown and crispy; individual rabbit pies, spiced and slightly sweet; potatoes basted in butter, slathered in salt and mustard; delicate and herby greens; and freshly baked loaves of yeasty bread—filled the hall.

Elain sipped her wine. Perhaps Alis had a point—Elain would only be a nuisance in the kitchen for a feast like this.

Nesta sat stiff in her chair, shooting small, distrustful glares at the Scots around her. Elain hadn’t told her much of what was—or wasn’t—happening between her and Lucien, feigning marital privacy, but it seems Nesta still found a reason to be angry with her hosts.

Feyre had no such qualms. Her and Tamlin—a hulking beast of a man, with wavy, shoulder length blonde hair, green eyes and a crooked nose from one too many fights—sat together at one end of the table conversing quietly with each other.

Elain paused and took a moment to study her youngest sister. She’d rarely seen Feyre around the castle in the past two weeks and had quickly stopped wondering where she’d gone off to each day when she showed up for dinner each night. Feyre had proven she could take care of herself; why should Elain bother worrying after her?

Elain thought she had an idea of how Feyre was occupying her time as she watched her younger sister giggle at something Tamlin muttered to her. Elain nearly dropped her potatoes at the sound. Feyre, giggling like a schoolgirl, at a man, no less. It was nearly as foreign to Elain as hearing the same sound from Lucien.

Speaking of her husband…

Lucien looked more tense than usual. Elain could see the tightness in his shoulders and jaw, and the way he gripped his utensils to eat. Elain stared, transfixed, as one of his large hands poured himself another ale, as the muscles in his forearms flexed, his golden brown skin seeming to glow despite the dim firelight in the room—

“And how was yer day Elain?”

Vassa was politely looking at Elain as if she didn’t know exactly how her day was. She pulled her gaze away from Lucien’s body.

“It was fine. At this rate I’ll have the entire contents of the library read this time next year.”

There was a thump and Lucien suddenly grunted. “And do ye enjoy reading?” he asked in a pained voice.

Elain furrowed her brows. Vassa was looking at her far too innocently. “It’s an acceptable way to pass the time.”

“Anything in particular caught yer eye?”

Elain paused. “I’ve enjoyed flipping through the books on Scottish history and the maps of the clans, so I can begin to better familiarize myself with the different Lairds.”

“Oh!” Lucien said, his eye widening. “That’s… aye, verra good.”

And dinner ended exactly like it had every night before: with awkward silence between her and Lucien.

Elain wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders later that evening. There was a chill in the air. If she were back in England, this would be a perfect summer’s night.

But she might as well forget all about England and her family and everything from her old life, Elain thought miserably, sitting on a stone bench in the back of the garden. Her life was in Scotland now, and as a woman, that life now revolved around her husband.

What would her life be like if she had married Graysen, rather than Lucien? She’d actually know her husband, and would have had a choice in the matter. She’d be in a familiar setting around people she knew and understood.

But it would be the same monotony she’d spent her life up until now living. With Graysen in the militia, she would rarely see him, perhaps only a few weeks a month or less, if he were called away. She would spend her days reading or sewing or entertaining guests, would receive countless visits from her sisters, and would most likely have a child by the time of their one year anniversary. It would be the same sort of dreary existence that Elain found herself in now.

The only difference was that all the time and effort her mother put into raising Elain into the perfect Englishwoman wouldn’t have been wasted on some uncouth Scotsman. Though even that wasn’t fair. She’d seen enough from those working at the castle and Vassa to realize that the Scots weren’t the maniacal, faerie worshiping heathens the pamphlets made them out to be. It was just Lucien who couldn’t be bothered to be a decent husband.

Elain huffed a breath, standing up. This was stupid—Vassa was clearly playing a joke on her, getting some sort of sick amusement at the idea of an Englishwoman freezing herself at nothing but her own insistence. She stood up and made her way across the garden when a sudden movement caught her eye.

The light from the moon glanced upon a flash of red along the back wall. Elain wasn’t sure if she had imagined it until she heard a scraping sound come from the stone wall behind her.

“Vassa?” Elain asked, moving towards the sound. “Vassa, is that you?”

The sound stopped. Elain rounded a large bush and came face to face—or face to chest, rather—with Lucien.

“Oh!” she gasped, nearly falling down before Lucien caught her by her shoulders and steadied her. They looked at each other in shock. Elain could see Lucien’s remaining eye widen with surprise before he let go of Elain like he had been burned. “I—I didn’t know—“

“What are ye doing out here?” Lucien asked, frustration filling his voice. He hadn’t managed to relax since dinner; his shoulders and neck still looked tight.

Elain’s eyes widened at Lucien’s tone. He seemed frustrated with her ? “Is this garden not part of my new home, and am I not allowed to wander the castle freely?” Elain snapped back.

“Aye, but no’ when it's night and pitch dark out! Why are ye out here?”

Elain considered telling him that Vassa told Elain to be out here, but decided Lucien didn’t need to know everything Elain did. “Perhaps I enjoy visiting the garden at night, when the light of the moon can… shine down on all the lovely plants.”

Lucien stared at her incredulously. “What sort of dumb English bollocks is that? Is this how ye spend yer nights, skulking about in the dark?”

She pursed her lips, a hand on her hip. “And what if it is?”

“It’s a bit odd and I’d prefer it if ye brought someone with ye when ye take yer midnight strolls,” he said, looking up at the bright moon anxiously. “Come on, I’ll get ye in—“

“No! I’m fine out here!”

Lucien tsked. “I can see ye shivering. Stop being so stubborn, lass, and come inside with me.” He reached out a hand for her.

Elain took a step away from him. “I don’t want to!” Elain was aware she sounded like a petulant child but Lucien’s tone of voice grated on her, her resentment towards him rising within her. How dare he try to tell her what to do, when he hadn’t spoken a word to her in days before tonight?

“And what were you doing out here? You’re also ‘skulking about’ in the dark, same as me.”

“I’m, er, conducting a sweep of the grounds,” Lucien replied, looking anywhere but at Elain. “We’ve reports of seeing foxes in the hen houses.”

Elain raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. And you thought the middle of the night—in the garden, nowhere near the livestock—was the best time to conduct this search?” She looked him up and down. “And aren’t you a bit overdressed to look for a simple fox?”

Lucien avoided looking at her. He was wearing a kilt, the same green, dark blue and gray pattern he’s worn on their wedding day, knee length worn brown boots, a thick white shirt and a brown jacket. A dirk hung from his hips, and his back—

“Is that a crossbow?”

“It’s a verra wilely fox,” Lucien said evasively, looking at the moon again. “Let me get ye back inside.”

Elain glared at him. “First you compare me to a dog, then you ignore me for days, brazenly lie to me about what you’re doing, and attempt to coddle me like a child. What a fine husband you are!”

“Well, yer acting a bit like a bairn at the moment!” Lucien hissed, advancing towards her and reaching for her again. “Come along!”

“Ah, yes, are you afraid that the fox you’re hunting is going to attack me?” Elain sneered, dodging him again. “At least being attacked by a fox would be more exciting than how I spend my days now!”

For once, Lucien looked a bit guilty. “I’m sorry, Elain,” he said quietly, grimacing slightly. “I ken the past few weeks have been difficult for ye. I’m a bit busy with… some things at the moment.”

Elain recognized that Lucien appeared sincere in his apology, but she was too worked up, too angry to accept his kindness and docility so easily. “Too busy that you couldn’t bother to come find me and talk to me at all in the past two weeks?” Elain goaded.

The guilt vanished from Lucien’s face, replaced with a look that reminded Elain of their wedding night. “Doors open from both sides, ye ken.” He looked at her fully, glancing down to gaze at her body before settling on her lips. Elain was suddenly aware that she was only wearing a thin shift and the shawl around her shoulders. “But now that ye have me here—“

Elain hadn’t realized she was backed against the garden wall until Lucien stalked towards her and Elain couldn’t back away. She gasped as Lucien towered over her, his strong arms bracketing her head.

“Well, wife,” Lucien said huskily. “What do ye want to talk about?”

This was completely unexpected coming from Lucien, given his frosty behavior before, but not entirely unwelcome. Elain mentally cursed herself for being so weak when it came to Lucien, that all it took was a heated glance to melt her, before she remembered her anger. “You—you’ve been ignoring me!”

“Aye, I have,” he said softly, lowering his head so he was barely inches from her face. This close to Lucien, Elain could make out a tiny scratch on his throat. “Though it pains me so.”

“Does it really?”

“Aye, it does.”

“You’ve a horrible way of showing it,” Elain snapped, fighting to resist Lucien’s charm as his warm lips brushed her temple. She gasped softly at the touch, and felt her knees start to shake. This close, she could smell him so clearly, his long hair dancing across her face: crackling wood from a fireplace on a cold, rainy day, a touch of sweetness like a freshly baked apple pie, and a deep, rich scent that reminded her of the ale they served at dinner. Elain closed her eyes to steady herself. “And I’ve been so lonely and bored here.”

“Verra unfortunate,” Lucien whispered, his lips barely landing over her full cheek and continuing their downward path.

“You couldn’t bother to let me know that we had visitors today. It made me look–” Elain shuddered as one of his large hands settled on the indent of her waist, his long fingers spanning her body and tightening against her flesh– “very foolish as the new Lady of the House.”

Based on the shaky breath he let out, Elain knew Lucien was as taut as she was. “A tragedy of the highest order.”

“And, and,” Elain swallowed, losing her train of thought as Lucien kissed his way along her jaw. He stooped down to trail feather-light kisses down the column of her throat, and Elain couldn’t stop the small moan that escaped her lips, especially when his lips continued going down, down, down…

She felt Lucien chuckle against the sensitive skin of her throat, his warm breath dancing across her skin like embers from a fire. “And what, Elain?”

“And you left me alone and naked on our wedding night.”

Lucien groaned, pressing his lips into her forehead. “Which I’ve sorely regretted. How would ye have me apologize to ye?”

Elain looked up at Lucien through her eyelashes. His face was half-cast in shadow; all she could see were the silver scars on his face and the rough eyepatch covering the space where one of his eyes should have been. He looked dangerous and feral, and Elain felt desire suddenly and swiftly course through her body like a raging river.

It made absolutely no sense. Elain shouldn’t desire him like she did right now, especially after the abominable way he had treated her and the rude things he had said to her, even if he had apologized. She had been raised to expect gentle civility and respectful kindness from her peers and eventual husband.

But Elain didn’t want gentle or kind from Lucien, at least not now. His lips lightly sucked the skin under her ear, and Elain couldn’t contain her moan. What Lucien was doing to her body with so little effort was unnatural, like a clever and dangerous fae trying to seduce and tempt her into running away with him, and she was powerless to resist.

Elain had never seen or met such a wild and dangerous man as Lucien, a man who wore his mysteries like a cloak and for whom violence was like a second skin.

Elain wanted him desperately.

“You owe me a proper wedding kiss,” Elain breathed.

He groaned softly, then barely brushed his warm lips against her cheek, a whisper of a promise of more to come. “Like that?”

“I thought the Scottish had more fire in them than that,” Elain shot back, breathing hard and keeping her sharp eyes on Lucien.

“Aye, we do,” Lucien growled, his eye ablaze. His hand skimmed down her waist to her hip and roughly squeezed her flesh, his touch branding her even through her nightgown as Lucien tugged her close to him. Elain gasped at his aggressive touch—it was exactly what she needed, a way to feel something and let out some of the frustration that had been growing inside her the past two weeks. Elain reached up and gripped his biceps as hard as she could, wanting Lucien to feel the same pain and yearning she felt for him.

Based on the groan he let out, Lucien understood her loud and clear. “It seems my wee English wife isn’t the quiet, demure lady I thought she was,” Lucien rasped. Quick as a hawk, his hand not gripping her hip cradled her jaw. Elain stopped breathing, the fire in his eye turning her to stone as his thumb rested on her full lips.

Elain was truly ensnared under Lucien’s spell—that was the only explanation she had as her tongue darted out and barely stroked the pad of his calloused thumb. Just from that small touch, Elain got a taste of rich, loamy, soil, freshly washed linens, and an unknown, bitter aroma as they all wafted across her tongue.

Lucien slowly dragged his thumb down her lips. “An e bana-bhuidseach thu, air mo chuir gu mo mhilleadh?” he asked thoughtfully, almost to himself. His hand stroked her jaw, his resolve hardening. “Damn e uile—bidh mi gu toileach air mo bheò-ghlacadh leat, a ghràidh.”

Elain had no idea what Lucien was saying but she didn’t care, not when he was staring at her with more feeling and want in one eye than anyone with two eyes had ever looked at her. Elain couldn’t breathe, not when his gaze darted to her lips, not when he gently tilted her head back, not when he licked his own thick lips, and not when he slowly lowered his head towards her. She had never wanted anything more in her life than to feel Lucien’s lips against hers, and Elain knew, when his lips touched her own, his fire would start an inferno within her that neither of them would be able to put out—

Somewhere close by, a twig snapped loudly, followed by some loud jeers and laughter. Elain and Lucien froze as the sounds on the other side of the garden wall gradually dissipated away, the silence of the night overtaking them once again.

Elain glanced up at Lucien, who looked stricken, all traces of his desire gone. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “We—I shouldna’ have let it get that far.”

Her heart cracked a little. Her and Lucien had finally started forging a connection between the two of them, and he instantly regretted it when it was over. Elain pushed him away and righted herself, ignoring the throbbing between her legs.

“You’re right,” Elain said angrily, tears burning the corner of her eyes. “God forbid you spend time getting to know your wife!”

“Elain, I didna mean—“

“I think you meant exactly what you said. Leave me.”

“I can walk ye back inside.”

“I don’t want you to!” Elain snapped, her vision blurry. “You ignore me, play with me, then say such hurtful things.” She balled her fists up, her nails digging into the palms of her hands. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to cry. Elain looked Lucien straight in the eye. “I had very little say in this marriage, but I’m at least trying to make it work. You’re a horrible husband and I want you to leave now.”

Lucien looked devastated. “Elain—“

“Leave me!” she yelled, her resolve crumbling. “Just leave.”

Elain was aware of Lucien walking away but of little else. Sobbing, she made her way to a bench and sat down, letting all the frustration and anger and sadness leave her, wishing, with all her heart, that she had listened to Feyre and leapt from their carriage and gone back to England.

XXX

Translations:

An e bana-bhuidseach thu, air mo chuir gu mo mhilleadh?: Are you a witch, sent to ruin me?

Damn e uile - bidh mi gu toileach air mo bheò-ghlacadh leat, a ghràidh: Damn it all-I will gladly be enchanted by you, my darling.

#elucien #elucien fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #acotar #the idiots be idioting in this chapter #i tell you what #this is about as tense and angsty as I get #i dont know how some of yall write chapters on chapters of angst #my poor little heart can't take it #my fic #my fics #would anyone be interested in a tag list?#i can also ask this separately as its own post #but let me know!

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lecliss · 1 year

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Ya know, when I heard Vincent was getting his FR finally, I certainly wasn't expecting his partner to be Prompto, and yet. It makes sense.

#anyway as cool as it is to finally get it. i couldnt give a shit now that i know part 2 of the new chapter IS ALL ABOUT KADAJ!!!#MY BOY IS FINALLY GETTING FOCUS AGAIN AND IT LOOKS LIKE HES GETTING REAL GENUINE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT #ITS WHAT HE DESERVES!!!! HE WAS SUPPOSED TO THE VILLAIN OF AC BUT SEPH STOLE THAT FROM HIM #AND OO HAS ALWAYS ACKNOWLEDGED THAT HES NOT A BAD KID SO HES NEVER REALLY EXACTLY BEEN A VILLAIN #HES JUST DOING ALL HE KNOWS HOW TO DO. HES A PART OF BIGGER PIECE AND DOESNT EVEN HAVE FULL CONTROL OVER HIS #ACTIONS AND THOUGHTS!!!! HE DESERVES TO BE HIS OWN PERSON SEPARATE FROM SEPH AND JENOVA #HES GETTING CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT LETS FUCKING GOOOOO!!!!#ITS A GOOD DAY TO BE A KADAJ STAN!!!#i really hope this means hes getting his FR next as well. and maybe. maybe. mmmmm perchance mayhaps... a BT 👀?#pretty please team ninja? im begging on my hands and knees here. youve given me weiss. vincent FR. kadaj development.#may i ask for one tiny piece more with a kadaj BT as well?#for the love of god please. i would cry. i already know part 2 will make me cry anyway when it comes to global lol #i just love that babey boy SO MUCH 😭😭😭😭😭😭 what a tragic character #personal

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florencemtrash · 4 months

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The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Eleven

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: None. Gwyn and Y/n bond over books. Azriel and Y/n get even closer — this had me kicking my feet and screaming internally and externally

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Rhysand’s training sessions always started with him sliding over ten objects: a book, a piece of jewelry, an article of clothing — anything he could find with meaning for you to discern.

“This one is Mor’s.” You held the red satin box in your hands. Two months ago you would have only been able to tell him who it belonged to. Maybe nothing at all. The meaning held by the object was weak. The jewelry too new. Unworn. But now you could harness your power with more precision, like you’d finally been handed an image of the puzzle you were trying to complete so you knew what to look for. “You bought it two months ago at Cizero’s as a Winter Solstice gift.”

“And what is it exactly?”

The box was still closed.

You pushed your power forward, imagining light slipping in through the seam of the box. An image flashed in your mind. It was blurry, but held onto its form long enough for you to make it out.

“Drop earrings. Rubies,” you said with a straight back before dropping the box into Rhysand’s open palm.

He smirked and clicked it open. Gold banded rubies hung from the backing like bloody tears, each drop separated by a diamond that flashed brighter than the stars in the ever darkening sky.

You dared to smile, staring at the jewelry with a level of satisfaction you hadn’t felt since being handed top marks as an apprentice.

“Very nicely done.”

The box disappeared back into his desk beside a glimmering gemstone the size of your fist wrapped in tissue paper.

It’s probably for Amren. You thought to yourself. Azriel told you she loved shiny things and hoarded her treasures like a crow. Hence why she’d yet to return from Summer with Varian.

You moved on to the next portion of your exercises. With a feather light touch, Rhysand laid his hands on your palms, your wrists, your forearm, your shoulders. He moved up and down your body, waiting a minute for you to control yourself before touching the next flash of exposed skin. It was still difficult to completely contain your power, but you were getting better at moving it around your body. When he reached for your hands, you slid the magic up to your chest. When he reached for your knees, it moved down to your ankles. It was a delicate dance, like the curling of ocean water away from the shore or the splitting of a river around a stone.

You did what you could to experience the touches with a clinical detachment and Rhysand did as well. He was careful. He stopped the moment you let out a gasp of surprise at the feeling of warm skin pressed against your own and there wasn’t an ounce of judgement written in his beautiful features when you trembled beneath his touch.

“Take your time,” he said encouragingly.

For him, touch was a necessary part of life. He always had an arm slung over Cassian’s shoulders or wrapped around Feyre’s waist. He fell asleep with his mate pressed against him and he walked around the River House with Nyx on his shoulders and Velaria curled up in his arms. But there were also mornings when he’d wake up in a cold sweat, the feeling of Amarantha’s red-tipped nails dragging down his chest like she wanted to take more from him than just his body. Those were the days Feyre knew to give him his space.

“Take all the time that you need.”

Rhys stepped away. You steadied your breath and took time to record your progress in the journal you kept close by. Although there was no true way to quantify your learning, your Day Court training never left you and you wrote down what little could be put into words — for posterity’s sake. Then maybe the next Clairvoyant the Mother willed into existence would have an easier time navigating this than you.

Gwyn found you squirreled away in your usual reading room, back bowed over a flurry of books and note pages like a reed in the wind. You reached for the mug on the desk only to find it disappointingly empty. Unlike the River House, the Library did not fuel your caffeine addiction with reckless abandon.

She floated over, abandoning the cart of books she’d been tasked with returning that night. Her legs were throbbing from the split squats Cassian had coached her through that evening, and she was desperate for a break.

“Some light reading, I see?” she teased, sinking into the seat across from you.

You looked up, eyes red-rimmed and swollen. It took a few moments for Gwyn’s shape to come into focus.

“What?” The word slurred coming out of your mouth.

She tapped the ever growing pile of papers beside you. Your manuscript: 120 hand-written pages and counting. When the book became too frustrating to handle, you abandoned it in exchange for another productive task. Even if the 120 pages you’d reproduced were utter garbage.

You groaned, forehead slamming against the wood with a clatter. Thoughts of white blood cells, lymphatic vessels, and innate and acquired immunity knotted in your brain like the world’s worst game of cat’s cradle.

Gwyn would have found it amusing if she didn’t know just how much time you spent within the mountain. You’d effectively been adopted by the priestesses. Lurking here and there like a cat coming in from the cold. And you were just as disapproving as a stray. Gwyn would often catch you among the stacks, mumbling about the disorganization and how you couldn’t work in such paltry conditions.

“Cauldron boil me, I’m sorry for asking.” Gwyn raised her hands in surrender.

You let out a great, heaving sigh. “It’s not you.”

“Oh I know it’s not me. You look like you’ve been dragged through a gutter.”

You blinked wearily at the lovely priestess.

“A very clean, well-managed gutter.” She grinned. Her skin shone, reflecting the pale, fuzzy moonlight that filtered through the window above and doused the library in a silver sheen.

“Thank you, Gwyn.”

“Anytime.” She drummed her nails against the table, the beat of it almost sending you to sleep. “How long have you been here today?” she asked with concern.

“I don’t know. What time is it?”

“After midnight.”

“Oh.”

“How long?” Gwyn repeated and you dragged a hand down your face.

“Seven hours? Give or take?” Your stomach growled.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.”

Gwyn grabbed you by the end of your robes, tugging you up several floors and down an unfamiliar hallway until you stopped in front of a teal-blue tapestry. Selkies, sirens, and water nymphs dove in and out of rippling waters highlighted by iridescent beads. She flung it to the side and pressed her hand against the bare stone. The slab sank into the wall and then slid open to reveal a cream-colored room adorned with bundles of babies' breath.

“Sit,” she commanded, pointing to the neatly made bed. You swayed dangerously on your feet.

“I’m really fine. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“Sit. Down.” She cut you with a lethal gaze Nesta would be proud of.

You snapped your mouth shut, shuffled across the carpeted floor, and sank into the queen-sized bed. You played with the ties of your robe wrapping them around your finger, then unwrapping them, then wrapping them again.

King Tiberion, third of the Nachmanian line, born Aschieron Cambria Nostrus Tiberion Dalgna to Effel Taul and foreign-born…

Found dead at a young three-hundred-and-ninety-two years of age at the hands of her brother. Spell cleaver or not, Ingrid…

Something like a lock and a key. Magic that’s perfectly complementary might be afforded the unique ability to seal… and break… gods I’m tired…

There have only been seven recorded Shadowsingers in history: Lovania Vallant born 895 in the age of Alders (see ref. 18992HBG Carstairs), Gherald Dashiv born 1459 in the age of —

Gwyn snapped her fingers in front of you, pulling your mind out of the hurricane of thoughts. You were a strange creature. You spoke little, moved about the Library as quiet as a mouse, and you had an interesting habit of running your fingers along every book on the shelf. Back and forth, back and forth you’d run along before jerking to a stop like one of the books had caught you at the end of a fishing lure.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” you repeated.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“Some would say that’s a good thing. It would make me incredibly trustworthy, at least when it comes to responding to things. I’d be terrible at keeping secrets, unless I was very careful about how I went about things. You know how it is. With the things.”

Gwyn huffed with silent laughter and opened one of the cabinets in her small, makeshift kitchen. “Eat.” She commanded again and you were too slow to catch the sleeve of biscuits she tossed in your direction. It bounced off your forehead and landed in your lap. “I’ll be right back with something more substantial.”

The door shut with a puff of air and you were left to chew on the chocolate and orange biscuits in silence.

Gwyn’s room faced the city and you saw the lamplights burning through the windows that had been cut into the mountain rock, mimicking the stars that twinkled overhead like salt poured onto black glass.

Cream satin sheets caught the moonlight until it glowed and you had the sudden urge to tip back and fall into oblivion. You could work for a long while, so long as you didn’t sit still long enough for the exhaustion to catch up to you — which you were doing now.

You shoved another biscuit in your mouth, now almost halfway through the sleeve. It helped settle the hollowness in your stomach so you could pick yourself up and move over to the bookshelf.

Bodice ripper, bodice ripper, murder mystery, bodice ripper, romantic comedy, found family adventure, spy thriller, bod—

Your face went red. Damn.

The priestess chose that moment to return to her room carrying a tray laden with bread, orange slices, and a thick mushroom stew leftover from dinner. She froze, pale cheeks turning a dusty rose as you silently pushed the book back onto the shelf.

“Dragon-born? Really?” You shoved a burning spoonful of stew in your mouth and drowned the stale crust of bread, waiting for it to get sufficiently soggy enough you could chew it.

Gwyn groaned and buried her face in her pillows. “It was a phase.”

“Must have been a very long phase. You have the whole series and I know it took her thirty years to write them all.”

Her head shot up. “How do you know?”

“I read the first book.”

You sat up straighter, back pressed up against the closet that housed her daily robes, ceremonial garb, training gear, and Valkyrie armour.

“So how can you judge me?!”

“It makes no anatomical sense, Gwyn!” You threw your hands up in the air. “She’s four feet shorter than him. He’d sooner tear her in half before giving her any pleasure, and I’m not talking about his claws.”

The priestess scoffed. “Have some imagination, Y/n.”

You huffed and pulled out a notebook from your ample pockets. You both spent the next thirty minutes going through hastily drawn sketches that would have disappointed Feyre to no end testing out your imaginative capabilities. Gwyn couldn’t stop smiling at you as you moved your hands through the air with animated fervor. Half of what you said didn’t make sense, but she would blame it on your sleep deprivation.

You had Gwyn in stitches. The female hung off the bed, red-brown hair brushing the ground as she gasped for breath. You looked like you were sitting on the ceiling, black robes pooled around your knees like shadows.

That sobered Gwyn up a bit. It was a real shame she liked you as much as she did. It made it harder for her to stay mad at Azriel.

And as if you read her mind, you asked, “Why don’t you come around to the River House?”

“What?” She wasn’t laughing anymore.

“Why don’t you come to the River House?” You asked again. “You’re close friends with Nesta. You’re part of the Inner Circle. You have a guest room there, but I haven’t seen you at the house.”

“Do you even spend enough time at the River House to know?”

“Yes.”

Gwyn sighed and straightened up, folding her legs neatly beneath her on the bed. “Some… Some things happened a couple years ago. I won’t bore you with the details and I don’t know if I even have the right to tell you everything, but it’s colored the way the Inner Circle works now.”

“The details are the most important part,” you murmured, “I wish I had more details. Then maybe I wouldn’t feel like such a stranger in that house.”

“You’re not a stranger,” Gwyn reassured you. “Is that why you spend so much time here?” she asked with genuine curiosity.

“Yes and no. It feels closer to home here. Even if your lack of organization has made my job ten times more difficult. I don’t see why you haven’t adopted any kind of classification system. It’s a small library. It would be very easy to implement.” You sighed and rubbed your eyes. Gods, you were tired. The feeling came and went in waves. “I shouldn’t complain though, everyone has been incredibly kind and welcoming. Especially Azriel.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, fingers fluttering against your shoulders. You tucked your chin into your elbows and tried not to think about that glorious night of sleep with only Azriel and his shadows. Waking up with his chest rising and falling on the floor beside you.

You were falling for him and you knew it. Gods did you know it. Or maybe you could convince yourself you weren’t falling yet, but it was a steady march to the cliff’s edge and you weren’t stopping anytime soon.

Gwyn felt her heart stutter. “Oh? He’s usually so… quiet and… reserved.”

You thought about it for a long while.

“I don’t think he’s nearly as quiet as everyone believes him to be,” you said thoughtfully, “I think he just speaks in his own way.”

You were right about Godswood and The Gallows.

The letter arrived on your desk early in the morning.

The Bookkeeper, Taunum Hyst, was found trying to burn books in the western greenwoods along with some texts from Argot’s. He fought back against the guards sent to retrieve him, but he didn’t know what he was doing. Even now he’s confused and adamant that the last three weeks have been a blur. There’s a daemati at work here. Someone other than Henna. Rhysand knows, if he hasn’t already told you.

I’ve sent a translated folktale in old Bauldish and Common, and another in Demnyon along with the others you asked for. They might be worth looking into to help with the book. I hope you’re enjoying your stay at the Night Court. Happy hunting and stay safe.

~ Helion

You were right.

You dropped the letter, hands coming up to your mouth as you took in a deep, shaky breath. You knew Taunum Hyst. You could picture his salt-grey braids and coal-black skin. He’d helped perform the funeral rites for your mother. Hell he’d managed to make you laugh that terrible day.

Your stomach turned. If there truly was another daemati left in the Day Court that could help explain the killings. Either the Librarians could have died trying to keep the knowledge in their minds safe, or the daemati had made them kill themselves before moving onto their next victim. You didn’t know which was more tragic.

The clock rang eleven bells and you hastily folded up the paper, dropping it into the box along with the rest of your father’s letters.

“I think this might be the first time you’ve ever been late,” Rhysand said with an amused smirk. He leaned against the doorway to his office, ankles crossed over one another. Did that male ever stand normally?

“It is the first time.”

“Of course you would know that.”

You smirked, pushing open the door to find—

“Azriel?”

The Shadowsinger stood with his hands neatly folded behind his back. “Y/n?”

“Cassian!” The Lord of Bloodshed leapt in front of his brother, arms spread wide. “I’m also here. Nesta couldn’t make it with Valkyrie training.”

Feyre rolled her eyes with affection. She reached for Rhysand’s hand without thinking and he accepted with barely a glance. They were two magnets, always pulled towards one another in space.

“What’s going on?” You glanced back and forth between them all. It had always been just you and Rhysand during these lessons.

“I thought it would be good to start practicing with other people when it comes to physical touch,” Rhysand explained. Azriel’s nostrils flared. “You’re getting comfortable with me, which I’m happy about. But I want you to get comfortable with everyone else too.”

You told me you wanted another debrief about the Mortal Lands. Azriel was loath to admit that just the thought of touching your hand was making his heart race like a schoolboy.

And I do. Rhysand said rather smugly, as if he already knew Azriel was freaking out inside. But I also know you wouldn’t have agreed to this if I asked you ahead of time. It’s amusing to see you like this, brother. Have you forgotten how to touch a female? His violet eyes glittered with mischief.

Azriel swallowed, eyes trained on you as you mulled over Rhysand’s comment and nodded. You wanted to be comfortable too. Comfortable in your body. Comfortable with other people touching you.

You thought of what it might feel like to have Azriel’s hand tucked beneath your chin, not just his shadows, and shivered.

Azriel nearly choked when you started undoing the ties of your robes. The gold embroidered fabric slipped off your shoulders in a soft hush that had Azriel going rigid. You wore traditional Night Court fashion beneath your Librarian robes — a tight black shirt revealed the gentle curves of your arms, the cut of your collarbones against your chest, the thin band of flesh around your stomach; a breezy skirt with slits cut into the sides that revealed flashes of your thighs with every movement you made.

Feyre, Rhysand, and Cassian all shared looks, nearly bursting out laughing at the way Azriel’s shadows were in flight around him. A swarm of bees buzzing and murmuring about how beautiful you looked.

Azriel had seen many fae in his time in various states of undress. He’d seen males and females in the Court of Nightmares parade about in scraps of silk and lace. He’d taken countless lovers to bed. Bodies were something he knew well. Something he knew intimately. But he had never felt so flustered as he did looking at you like this. He thought his heart might just burst in his chest.

Cassian elbowed Azriel in the ribs when you weren’t looking and one of Azriel’s shadows looped around his ponytail and pulled.

“Ow.” Cassian rubbed the back of his head with a grin. “Rude.”

You felt rather ridiculous standing in the center of the room with your arms and legs stretched out to the side.

“Right arm,” Rhysand called out.

Cassian bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet, fists held loose by his sides with the lightness of a male a quarter of his size.

You squinted. Is he… is he about to punch me?

Cassian read the alarm on your face and grinned, hitting you with a tap gentler than rainfall.

You snorted, but felt nothing. Perfect.

You had to be grateful for Cassian’s light-heartedness. He had the worry melting off your shoulders. With every limb that Rhys called out, Cassian would do a little dance before punching you or kicking you. At one point he even faked a blow to your face, spinning up to you before leaping into the air and shooting out his right leg. You didn’t flinch as his boot swung an inch away from your face. You could smell the rubber soles of his boots.

“You missed,” you teased.

Cassian pouted, turning around to walk back to the wall now that he was finished with his piece. Azriel looked ready to tear his head off his body.

You’re lucky you missed. Azriel’s eyes screamed across the room. You’d be a dead man if you hurt her.

Cassian winked and blew him a kiss.

Feyre was next. You practiced brushing against her like you would do in a crowded street complete with the obligatory fumbling of apologies.

“Oh good heavens.” Feyre fanned her face like the old, upper-class women in her village used to do and laid on that sickly sweet accent they all had. “I’m so dreadfully sorry.” — They never were.

She shook your hand and touched your shoulders and looped her arm around your waist. That was the part that had you worried. You slid your power away from every inch of your skin, wrapped it up like a secret, and held it deepin your chest.

“Good.” Rhysand smiled and Cassian punched the air.

You breathed deeply and gave a small bow like you’d just finished a performance. But there was still one person you were meant to touch today, and they made you the most nervous of all.

Azriel stepped forward, a picture of calm. Inside, he was raging like a storm. He kept his hands firmly grasped behind his back, wings pressed so tightly he felt his shoulders start to ache.

You took a step forward as well, tilting your head back to look at him. You felt the grip on your power falter when he held out his hand palm up like he was asking you for a dance. Months ago at the Summer Solstice ball you’d been approached by a number of males hoping for a song with their hands at your waist and at your shoulder. The prospect of that kind of touch had terrified you then, and it still terrified you now but for different reasons. Because this time, you wanted it.

You wanted him.

You gently slid your hand into his, feeling the scars roll beneath your soft skin like the mountains that surrounded Velaris. Your breath caught in your throat, but before Azriel could rip his hand away you held on and squeezed reassuringly.

You’d read hundreds, if not thousands, of romance novels in your time. You’d consumed them with a ravenous hunger, surviving on them when real touch felt like a hopeless dream and the loneliness became too much to bear. And in nearly every single one of them, the first touch between lovers was described as an explosion of color. A dangerous shaking of the world down to its foundations. A cataclysmic event.

But you were surprised to find that they were wrong. They were all wrong. Azriel wasn’t destroying anything. He was mending.

It felt like a re-centering. The shifting of a leaning tower so it stood upright again.

A blissful silence.

Azriel cradled your hand in his, thumbs smoothing over your knuckles. He couldn’t help what he did next, couldn’t have stopped himself even if Helion stood at his back with murder in his eyes.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your hand with such reverence, such tenderness, that you swore your heart was glowing in your chest.

“Why don’t you try a hug, Y/n?” Rhysand suggested when Azriel had straightened. “If you want.”

You looked down at your feet where shadows swarmed, and then up at Azriel.

“What do you say, Y/n?” Azriel murmured softly. His words were for you and you only. “Where would you have me touch you?” His hazel eyes caught the light before scattering into a thousand brilliant colors.

Wordlessly you ran your fingers down his arms, tracing the shape of the muscle beneath the leather. You held his hands and gently led them up to your waist, gasping when he made contact. His warm fingers brushed the exposed skin of your waist before sliding around to your back.

You balanced on the tips of your toes, looping your arms around his neck before resting your face in the hollow between his neck and shoulder. He smelled like leather and the mountains. Wind and rain and nightfall coalescing into something so uniquely him you could pick him out in a room of thousands with your eyes closed.

It started out as a loose, misshapen thing, your hands and his arms searching for the right grip to hold your bodies together. But once you found it, you were lost.

Azriel wrapped his arms around your back and waist, hands splayed out like he was absorbing you into him. And you were no better. You buried your face in his neck, lips pressed up against the curve of his throat so you could feel the rhythmic rush of blood through his veins.

He refused to be the first to let go. The roof could cave in. The floor could drop out from beneath your feet. He would not let you go.

Your tears started out slow, coupled by ragged, shallow breaths.

“I’ve got you, Y/n,” Azriel whispered. “I’ve got you.”

How long had it been since you’d been held like this? A hundred years? Two hundred? You thought you’d learned to live without it, but now that it was yours you didn’t think you’d ever, ever be able to give it up. You were at the cliff’s edge now and without an ounce of hesitation you flung yourself over and into the abyss.

With Azriel, controlling your powers didn’t seem like such a difficult thing. Later that evening when you lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, you realized you hadn’t been thinking of control at all.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

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Author's Note:

Y'all... THEY FINALLY TOUCHED EACH OTHER! And not only that, BUT HE KISSED HER HAND!!! And! They fucking HUGGED!!!!

#azriel x reader #azriel x reader slow burn #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #the shadowsinger and the inkbird

675 notes · View notes

uglypastels · 2 months

Text

Ridlington Park | I | Eddie Munson regency!au

Author's Note: It has been a long, long time, but I am back with another obnoxious AU. I hope you enjoy as we embark on this new adventure in Regency England. This story has been in the works for almost 2 years and is still far from finished, but I am having too much fun with this and have way too many ideas on where to take it, so suggestions are very much appreciated.

Word Count: 10k

Do be warned, Dear Reader, for this story in its entirety may contain:

female!reader. slow burn. forbidden romance. jealousy. pining. smut. alcohol consumption. swearing. OC family. horses. talks of arranged marriage. historical facts as well as trivial inaccuracies.

Due to the adult nature of the story, this author also kindly but sternly requires underage readers to pursue other works.

Author's Previous Works | Correspondence | Join the Taglist

Chapter One: A Game of Perseverance

“I do not want people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them.”

– Jane Austen, Letter to her sister Cassandra, 1798

Three stories high, full of balconied windows, the house stood tall and overlooked the entire street. Ridlington Park, they called it, and situated at the centre of life–that is, London–the front door of the building was enveloped in flowers matching the seasons all year long. Currently, it was bright peonies that caught the onlooker’s eye. The perfectly trimmed bushes and trees were planted symmetrically, leading up to the front doors, giving visitors the right impression of what they could await once they stepped inside.

The residing family had spent a good fortune and effort ensuring the house represented them perfectly: clean, fortunate, and grand, but all done so in the utmost respectable and modest fashion as they were never the ones to boast. The walls had a light, warm tone reminiscent of early mornings in Spring, and the interior was decorated with portraits, new and old, beautiful oil sceneries of lands near and far, and busts and vases.

The evening was slowly approaching, the sun setting over the windows of the drawing room, enwrapping everything in a golden glow. The family sat silently around the room, giving each other the peace and quiet required for an uneventful afternoon followed by a slow night of fortunate sleep. The only sound appreciated was the pianoforte siding against the window, gracefully played by Mother. Four children sat around the separate corners of their world, enjoying the music while focusing on their own activities. Like most nights, these consisted of either reading or needlework, engaging in small conversations with one another occasionally.

As typical as any evening at Ridlington Park, it was highly unusual for the rest of London– a city which runs on scandals and gossip. Outside, the streets were bustling with lords and ladies of the Ton making their way back home from the markets, gardens and their fellows’ tea parties, gossiping about the latest impropriety to have occurred. After all, such topics, no more than nonsense really, were simply inescapable. And no matter how hard they tried to ignore it all, one way or another, it would always find its way up to the Byrnwick family. Most of the time, you, Gentle Reader, could hold yourself accountable for introducing the rumours proudly, much to your brother’s annoyance, who did his best to turn the pages of his novel as loud as possible as you talked with your mother from across the room.

‘Have you heard what happened at Lady Faulkner’s ball?’

‘Yes, sordid, really.’ Your mother sighed, turning around. ‘I am sure her family is in quite the uproar.’

‘Please,’ Christopher, your brother, shut his book down in frustration, clearly incapable of making any progress amidst the conversation. ‘If she had not wanted to get caught, she should have maybe ought to think twice about being out with a man in the middle of the gardens for everyone to see.’

You glared up at him. ‘Well, it is absurd that a woman cannot even stand in a public space with a man without bringing disgrace onto her entire family.’

‘Believe me; she did much more than just standing.’ Christopher scoffed, quickly receiving a cold stare from your mother.

‘Still, it is unjust.’ You ignored his insinuations. ‘Think of how men are free to go out at any time of day or night with whomever they please.’ You stabbed your needle through the cloth a bit harsher than intended.

‘My, you sure seem to be giving all this much thought. Have you any plans we should know about, sister?’ Your brother smirked.

‘Christopher!’ Your mother scowled. ‘That is quite enough.’

‘I was only joking, Mother,’ Christopher sighed, ‘we all know she is not going anywhere anytime soon.’

You were ready to retort angrily, or at least throw your needle at him, when the doors to the drawing room opened, catching everyone’s attention by storm. Five pairs of identical eyes directly aimed at the door frame, only softening when recognising the intruders. A welcoming of surprised gasps greeted the Lord and his eldest, Nicholas, as they entered the room. Not one foot in the room, and all activities were being put to a halt as the rest of the family gathered around the men—a loving reunion after a months-long journey from the Americas.

It was a surprising return, for father and son had yet to write of their plans in recent times. The last letter was received at Ridlington Park over three weeks ago, stating that the weather was amiable, if not a bit too humid, and that the family missed each other deeply. The lack of correspondence, therefore, was also an immediate subject.

‘But why did you not write, dear?’ asked Mother, after embracing her son. Nicholas was too occupied by his youngest sibling to answer; airways tightened in the arms of his 11-year-old sister, Marjorie. His father responded instead:

‘How could we write at sea, my love? The message would not have gotten here any faster than we did,’ the lord chuckled to his wife. He was correct, too, of course. His eyes seemed to surpass the gaze of his present family members in search of the one missing piece. ‘Where is Annabelle? I thought she would be home by now.’

‘She is home, with her husband,’ you explained carefully. Your father blinked slowly, coming to terms with this fact he had tried to avoid for so long. Annabelle had married last season and was very well off, to a Duke, no less, but it was still a big adjustment for the family seeing her gone and out of the house. Even with her frequent visits, it was strange to have one head less at the dinner table; one less chair occupied each evening, one less song played on the pianoforte.

‘Ah, well then,’ Father cleared his throat, ‘then we are complete.’ He looked at his wife and five children. One day, there would be even fewer of them. They will all be leaving the nest one by one. For some, marriage was long overdue, and as a man of high society, he could not wish his children a suitor or a lady soon enough, but as a father, he dreaded the day that the following proposals would take place.

Marjorie, becoming impatient and not as sentimental about her family’s reunion, tugged at Nicholas’ sleeve. ‘Come, you must tell us everything about your journey!’ She kept pulling until the eldest brother had no choice but to follow her and sit on the couch. Soon, everyone else joined on the chaises.

‘I am afraid there is very little to tell,’ Nicholas said, taking a chocolate biscuit off the tray beside the sofa. ‘It was all rather dull.’

‘Do not be ridiculous, brother,’ Fitzwilliam, the second-youngest and still hungry for adventure and the world outside of the Ton, looked at his older brother with high expectations. ‘I do not believe you and Father had been gone this long and did not experience anything worthy of a tale.’

You listened on as your siblings bickered, arguing over the value of a story, and its worth of being told and heard. Finally, after listening to it for about a quarter of an hour, you had to agree with Nicholas; it was all rather dull. No wonder neither he nor father did not bother to mention anything but the weather in their correspondence. Their days quickly grew into a pattern one is used to in travel and business. A pattern you might have understood if you cared to pay attention.

This attention only returned to the room when you heard your name being spoken. The conversation had shifted from the events that had been missed overseas to the town's happenings. Just as dull and irrelevant, some might say, the most interesting thus far was the staff changes at the house, and even these held very little consequence to you, but to this, some may disagree wholeheartedly.

‘So, the season has begun, has it not, sister?’ Nicholas asked.

‘Some weeks ago, yes.’ You did your best pretending not to feel an effect from this, occupying yourself with your needlework that was turning out far below the usual standard. ‘But do not worry; you have not missed much. In fact, I think things will finally begin to get a bit interesting with you back home.’ Nicholas had always had a taste for dramatics and had been known for having a very… loving nature. In the past years, you must have witnessed him falling in love at least a dozen times, preparing a proposal to half of these women, going through with it twice now, with one nearly making it to the alter if not for the bride getting caught in quite a compromising position with a footman.

For the next few weeks, Nicholas was known as the heartbroken gentleman, and you would have felt bad for him… if it was not for the fact that women from all over town came around to console him, day after day, of course not knowing that when his bride-to-be had been making arrangements with other men, your brother had been too busy charming ladies himself. It took a month for him to proclaim his love to another woman again.

‘I do not know what you mean,’ Nicholas deflected your comment, quickly looking over to your mother and second oldest brother, Christopher, ‘any fitting suitors I should be aware of?’ As the eldest brother, Nicholas made it his duty to ensure his sisters found good husbands. That meant status and wealth but, above anything else, a good and genteel nature. You remembered how picky he was when Annabelle had been searching for a husband, even more so than your parents. Still, it was something you appreciated about your brother. His protectiveness showed the little heart he still held for you and the rest of your family, as much as he tried to hide it away.

Your mother bit her cheek, holding in the many thoughts and opinions she must have kept for herself. So did Christopher, who shared a very knowledgeable look of many words with Nicholas, one he understood clearly but you could not decipher just yet. However, you assumed the general message had been sent and received.

‘If you had seen the choices, brother, you would understand my predicament and situation all too well, believe me.’ Pretending to seem unbothered by the encrypted messages being sent around the room, you preoccupied yourself once more with the needlework.

‘I believe it is what you believe, sister,’ Nicholas turned back to your mother, ‘do you have a list of names? I shall go through them in the morning, see if it really is as bad as we are being told.’

You had wanted to reply, most likely in a dishonourable way, but you held your tongue and fell back in your seat, letting the rest of your family plan out the rest of your life, just like they had always done.

Unbelievable, Nicholas was home for all of five minutes, and he was already making lists. And knowing him, which you would like to think you did, it was merely a formality for your sake. He would already have a dozen names at the top of his head, ready to send out invitations to men for an audience with you.

Therefore, you were not surprised when, only a few days later, at the breakfast table, Nicholas told you about all the guests Ridlngton Park would soon be welcoming.

‘There is Mr Elton, and Mr Brookes will be coming over for tea; I also heard Lord Frankworth is interested in a visit, so is Mr Campbell, and—’ he kept on giving you names, with all of them entering one ear and immediately leaving through your other. You could not care less who wanted to see you, not after spending the last month trying your hardest to escape all of their attempts at promenading, lunching, and chatting of sheer nonsense.

‘I must ask you to be ready for your first audience before 10; a dress is already prepared in your room.’ Of course, there was a dress. All you could do was smile as you bit into a forkful of egg.

‘Oh, and there is one gentleman I would particularly like you to meet,’ your father chimed in, almost as if with an afterthought that he recollected at the last minute. You looked up at him apprehensively. ‘I had made a nice acquaintance of his father on our travel. What was his name– Harrolds, no…’ ‘Harrington, father. It was Mr Harrington.’ Nicholas corrected before looking over to you as he shared more. ‘He is a tradesman, quite successful. His only son had joined us on the ship back to England.’ The emphasis on his lineage was made with an apparent inclination. There were no more heirs, meaning the son would inherit the man’s entire wealth. ‘Certainly seems like a reasonable young man, clever too. The two of you will have lots to speak of.’

Well, I certainly cannot wait to meet him,’ you forced out a smile before quickly getting on with your meal despite losing all your appetite. At that moment, your stomach felt like a hollow pit, eating away at you, ironically.

‘You know, if you gave this all a chance, you might find yourself to actually enjoy it in the end,’ your mother commented with a tight lip.

‘I am sure I shall enjoy it then, as it means that it has all, in fact, ended.’ You sighed deeply, ‘I simply do not understand why this is a must in my life? Why must I marry this instant?’

‘Do not worry, dear. You are still young; you still have plenty of time, ' your father said, missing your point entirely and making you roll your eyes. ‘But your mother is right, too, a more agreeable attitude towards this will make things much easier.’

‘For whom, exactly? Is it for me to enjoy myself, or for everyone else as you will not have to endure me any longer?’

‘Can you really blame us?’ Nicholas mumbled, receiving a kick in the shin in return. He spent the rest of the discussion rubbing the targetted spot on his leg with a pained crease between his brows. You, besides gaining the small victory of maiming your brother, found yourself yet again on the losing side of another family dispute. Like all its predecessors, this battle ended with you pushing back your chair with a harsh scrape of the panelled floor and slugging back to your room where a dress awaited.

It was beautiful; you could not deny that. Elegant and straightforward, it accented all your finest assets for interested suitors. It was comfortable: not too heavy or too textured in its pattern, it was made of soft material that slipped right on, with the fit of a well-tailored glove. Your hair was pulled up and out of your face, leaving nothing to hide behind.

‘You look lovely, miss,’ your maid said with a kind smile as she put the final pin in your hair.

‘Thank you, Claire.’ You muttered, noticing the saddened sympathy enveloping her features as she knew like no other how much you detested everything about what you were about to go through. ‘Have you got any advice? On how to endure it all?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ she shrugged, brushing something off your shoulder. ‘I suppose you could try making them uninterested in you, so they will want to leave sooner.’

‘That thought has crossed my mind,’ you admitted, ‘but I also do not want to put my entire family to shame.’

‘Of course, miss.’ Claire nodded. As she finished working on your presentation, you pondered over your possibilities. Indeed, presenting yourself as improper had been your first idea, and its appeal remained, but you were too afraid of the repercussions. If the gentlemen were to think of you as a lady without any manners, all it would do was put your upbringing up for question, something your parents did not deserve whatsoever.

You also considered spreading gossip about the men coming to introduce themselves, which would scare your mother off them immediately, ensuring they were never to return by your parents’ preference. But it felt cruel to make up such lies. You were sure that in other circumstances, these were perfectly fine men. At this particular moment, you just happened to despise them and everything they stood for.

Perhaps the most appealing option was to simply not attend the audience. To run away and never to return… at least until the afternoon, once all the men had lost all their patience. But that would only cause you more trouble.

The ideas rolled around your head for the rest of the day, even once the suitors sat opposite you in the room. It was all incredibly dull, if not just mortifyingly humiliating, with your mother sitting only across the room, occupying herself with a book, or so it seemed because she most definitely was listening to the conversations attempted on your part.

‘So,’ as most of the dialogues began, the Lord whose name you already forgot spoke, clearing his throat, ‘I hear you read.’

‘Yes, ' you said, blinking to avoid staring too blankly at the wall behind the man, ignoring the balding patch atop his head.

‘Grand,’ he smiled, somehow satisfied with your response already.

‘Do you… ride?’ you asked, hoping that at the least your mother heard your attempts at making a connection and would release you from this torment soon enough on the principle of your good sportsmanship.

‘No, God no, horses are far too beastly for my liking, unless we are speaking of the track, of course.’ The man scoffed, ‘However, I prefer more dignified activities, such as hunting.’

‘Of course, you do,’ you smiled, but the expression never reached your eyes. ‘What about chess? Do you play?’

‘I do not have the patience to commit to such silly games.’

Patience, you thought, or intelligence? And how ironic of him to speak of perseverance. You watched him take another small sandwich from the tea tray provided on a side table, which you were taught to ignore so as not to be observed as “gluttonous”. After all, no one wanted to marry a lady that ate all day.

Considering that, you grabbed a plate and a piece of cake from the top of the tray and bit into it. The soft sponge melted on your tongue. In the meantime, you were asked a question, but you could not possibly answer with a mouthful of cake, could you? Once you had finished, you considered grabbing a second portion, but you could feel the judgmental look of your mother digging into the back of your head.

You put the plate back down and your hands on your lap.

‘I’m sorry, my lord, could you repeat the question, please. I fear I may have lost myself for a moment.’ And so, it continued. Thankfully, the man excused himself not long after, thanking you and your mama for the time, just for his seat to be replaced with someone else almost immediately. This time, the gentleman was significantly younger, with thick hair atop his head and charming eyes, but the second he spoke, you knew this would not reach much further than the comfort of this room. At the least, you did not see this relationship going any further than any of the other acquaintances you had made that day.

By lunchtime, you felt your eyes burning with fatigue, possibly caused by a constant suppression of tears. How much more could you possibly take of this torture?

‘Mr Elton was quite a charmer, was he not?’ Your mother commented as she sipped her tea.

You suppressed your initial thought, rephrasing it to cause less offence, ‘He is too stubborn and self-centred. He barely let me speak a single word, too occupied by his own achievements to expect me to have any.’

‘Well, Lord Frankworth seemed to care very much for what you had to say.’

‘Only because he barely managed to string any thoughts together himself,’ you sighed.

Your mother tightened her grip on the teacup before smiling. ‘Soon enough, we will find you a perfectly fine young man, dear. You just have to remain open-minded.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘Speaking of, your next suitor should be here shortly.’

You did everything in your power not to groan at the announcement and instead nodded politely. ‘Who is it?’

‘Mr Harrington, the one your father was so keen on you meeting.’

‘Ah,’ yes, the American. The only thing that gave you some slight hope in the situation was that Mr Harrington had already spent plenty of time in the company of your father and brother Nicholas and had seemingly gained their blessing. But nothing could help you gain the energy to entertain yet another man with polite conversation. The sun had been beaming into the room since the early morning, only growing warmer and warmer, making the hairs at the small of your neck stick.

‘Will you just excuse me for a moment, mother.’ You got up.

‘Is something wrong?’ She looked suspicious but with a glint of worry in her eye.

‘I am quite fine, just require some fresh air, I think,’ which was not entirely a lie.

‘Alright then, just make haste, child.’ Mr Harrington was on his way, after all. ‘We do not want to keep the man waiting.’

‘Of course not,’ you smiled, heading towards the door. When the large panels closed behind you, you picked up your skirt and ran toward the gardens. Your footsteps echoed through the corridors, and you caught several members of the house staff glancing your way with inquisitive looks.

Ever since you could remember, the grounds around Ridlington Park had a fantastical power about them. It had been the turf on which you would spend countless childhood summer days playing games with your siblings, whether the competitive or imaginary type. But no matter what the six of you could think of, your favourite game would always remain Hide and Go Seek. The gardens were a perfect place for it, with endless nooks and crannies one could disappear into. It was nearly a giant maze, and you had mastered it from a very young age. Whilst most got lost between the shrubbery and flowers, you knew exactly where you had found yourself.

There were plenty of hiding spots you enjoyed over the years, some that to this day remain a mystery to the rest of your family, but nonetheless, it was the stables you adored the most. It was a safe haven for you on many days, to the point that you had nearly become invisible to the staff working there.

The stables were located in the far east corner of the grounds, and the walk towards it already cost more time than you had if you had ever planned on returning that quickly. Undeniably, there was a pinch of shame and guilt nipping at your heart towards the strange Mr Harrington, but that soon dissolved when you heard the neighing of Barley Sugar, a golden-brown mare you proudly called yours. A gift and result of a successful business trade made by your father years ago, the horse technically belonged to all of the Byrnwick children, as much as any of the other horses under the family’s possession, but the bond between you and that particular horse just turned out to be that much stronger.

This was visible as soon as you entered the stable. Barley Sugar went wild at your presence, happily swinging her head from side to side.

‘Oh, we can both use an escape, I see,’ you grinned, petting the horse, who leaned into your touch immediately. ‘How about I get you out of here, hmm?’

But your plans were quickly interrupted by a voice. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, ma’am.’

❀❀❀

An average sea voyage from the Americas to England should take approximately 16 days, considering the weather corresponds with the sails of the ship. During this journey, passengers would most likely endure days upon days of heavy and tall waves bashing across the ship’s sides, and that is to be expected in favourable conditions.

As Lord Byrnwick and his eldest had boarded the ship headed to London, the sky had been bright blue, and it did not change far beyond that. There was, of course, a risk for the two of them to sail across the world as they did, them being head of the family and its heir. A journey such as this one can go awry in many ways, and if it were not for the dangers of seafaring, there were the Anglo-American tensions to consider. After all, the previous year's war was still fresh in everyone’s mind, and one could not be careful enough when entertaining both sides. Luckily for the Byrnwicks, they were not of the superstitious kind, and good fortune had always seemed to be in the family’s favour up until the very moment they stepped on the boat to return home, many years beyond that.

Ever the convivial one, the most considerable success of the trip, according to Lord Byrnwick, was not the business or diplomatic aspects of their ventures but the social. The man immensely enjoyed meeting other like-minded spirits from across the pond, and there had been plenty of fine nights at gentleman’s clubs spent over fine spirits and betting games, discussing all sorts of topics and exchanging information on all subjects. Promises were made to keep in touch whilst arrangements were made for more future meetings. It was only the polite thing to do.

But aside from acquaintances and business partners, an addition to the household had also been made. Of some sort, that is, for it seemed that the two had found a new groom in America.

Now, Gentle Reader, do not conclude of the worst, as the groom we speak of is not the sort one is meant to meet at an altar but the kind who spends his days tending the horses and carriages. The young man, Mr Munson, had been doing precisely that when the Byrnwick heir stumbled upon his conveyance services in town, in dire need of transport for his regular means, which had already been occupied by his father for the day. It was an encounter by utter chance but certainly one with greater consequences.

Several days later, coincidentally, a letter from London had arrived. Five pages long, each written by a member of the family recounting their most notable memories of the week. The children spoke of the ton's gossip and anecdotes of what occurred at home. Mother, however, took it upon herself to write of more important matters regarding the household. Many topics had to be discussed, but in the middle of her letter, there was mention of the unfortunate passing of the family’s barn manager, Mr Falstipp. It was an unexpected death, leaving the entire house in shock as the man had been working for the family for longer than the children had been alive. But it also resulted in the question of what was to be done now?

It was likely only because the interaction had been so fresh in his mind that Nicholas suggested finding a replacement for Mr Falstipp here in America. This was an unusual offer, as his father commented, especially since they would not leave for home until another few days, but that was to be resolved by having the footmen take care of the horses for the time being. Besides, Nicholas was sure his siblings would be more than happy to help with the chores.

The next day, he returned to the public stables and immediately noted how much cleaner they seemed than any other in town. The horses also looked exceptionally well taken care of and content.

Mr Munson had just been feeding a colt when Nicholas eagerly announced, ‘Mr Munson, may I offer you a proposition?’

This, to no surprise, startled the other man for various reasons. ‘Sir?’

‘This must be a peculiar request, but you see, as of recently, my family has found itself in need of a new stablehand and from what I have seen you do, you, sir, would be the perfect candidate.’ Nicholas had the smile of a man losing his sanity, but his words could not be more genuine.

‘Your family—’ Munson blinked, ‘you mean in London.’

‘Yes, and I understand that this might be a problem, but trust me when I say that you will most certainly find England to your liking, Mr Munson.’

‘Please, call me Eddie.’

‘As you wish,’ Nicholas agreed.

Eddie pondered over the offer for a short moment. It would have taken him no time to decide if it was not for what he was to leave behind, but he knew that his current employer would be able to find his replacement in no time, as jobs in town were hard to come by.

But what must have been even more challenging to obtain was a ticket out of the wasteland he called home. For years, he had dreamt of an escape, never imagining it to be possible, and suddenly, here comes this stranger offering it to him on a silver platter.

It would be terrifying to move so far away, he knew that, with many risks, but the further away he could manage to go from where he was now, the better.

Eventually, after a minute of silence that left Nicholas restless and on the verge of embarrassment, Eddie smiled: ‘It would be my pleasure to work for you, sir.’ And he had meant that wholeheartedly. While it had only been a short few interactions that he had had with the man, the young Mr Byrnwick had already shown Eddie far more kindness than any of his prior employers, or any other man in his life, for a fact. Most importantly, the man knew nothing about Eddie’s past, which must have been the biggest selling point in the life-changing choice.

‘Marvelous. You will not regret this, Eddie.’ Nicholas leaned in to shake his hand, only to realise that Eddie was still carrying the giant bucket of feed. ‘Well, we shall finalise everything on the boat, shall we?’ And so they did.

A week later, Eddie found himself still in shock at his circumstances. He could not believe he was really to be leaving for England until the moment he set foot on the boat, and even once the sails had set and the American coast was nothing but a grim line on the horizon, the fact did not seem to settle in his mind just yet.

Over the next 16 days, he had encountered the Byrnwicks only a handful of times. First, to meet Lord Byrnwick who, as head of the household, wanted a final say on the matter. A bit late, thought Eddie, as the boat had long departed the harbour by then, but his ticket had already been paid for, and thus, he had little else to complain about. He had quickly made peace with the idea that he could make his new life across the ocean work no matter the circumstances. He had done it before, so what is one more homeless night under a new sky?

But the lord seemed all too happy to have found his staff replacement. Overall, the man was nothing like Eddie had expected a gentleman of English high society to be. From his previous experiences, the type often was rather conceited and arrogant, with a transparent opinion of anyone below their class. His new employer and his son, while undoubtedly lordly, had a modest nature about them. Quickly, Eddie had also gathered that the spontaneity with which Nicholas Byrnwick had called upon him for a job opportunity was not uncharacteristic of him, as the young man was rather energetic in his step and impulsive in his actions.

But no matter how unassuming the men were, they did belong to a different rank of man and, therefore, stayed on the boat to the upper decks, engaging with the rest of their kind.

The travel moved on slowly, but in the end, it was also a mere blink of an eye moment, and before he had realised it, Eddie had reached the shores of England. It was another day or two of travel to be done by horse. A carriage had been acquired for Nicholas and his father, but Eddie and the rest of the staff that travelled with the family for their adventure rode on horseback. No matter how much Eddie enjoyed the form of transportation, it was a tiring experience after several hours, but it also allowed him to meet the people he was to work with and, through that, those he would work for.

‘So, what is the rest of the family like,’ he asked Mr Trowbridge, the lord’s valet. If there was anyone who could tell Eddie something, it would be this man.

‘Well,’ Mr Trowbridge had a particularly nasal tone about his voice that especially came forward at the beginning of his sentences, ‘I do not believe there is much to tell. They are as any other family, really.’

‘My good man, you can hardly expect me to believe there is nothing worth telling about these people,’ Eddie laughed. ‘If it puts your mind at ease, I am only asking for the simplest facts—nothing to interest my fancy.’

The valet pondered over this for a moment. ‘Very well. You have, of course, met the Viscount and his eldest.’ He took a moment for Eddie to respond with a nod in agreement. He then took another moment to consider his following words. The longer he took, the more keen Eddie felt to suggest what to speak of.

‘What about Lady Byrnwick?’

‘Lady Byrnwick is most amiable and has a very caring character, but you will not find her in the stables often unless she is searching for her children.’

‘Not fond of horses, is she?’

‘Rather the outside—-’ Trowbridge cleared his hair vigorously. ‘In the sense that the sun and pollen often leave her poorly. But the children…’ he punctuated his half-sentence with a heavy sigh.

‘They are a handful?’ Eddie assumed. To this, Trowbridge searched for another description but found himself lacking the vocabulary, leading to a confirmation.

‘I have worked for this family for nearly three decades, and I will assure you that each member is as proper a member of society as the next. While boisterous, they have been taught to be independent individuals.’ The valet's tone made Eddie consider how much of their good decorum was in gratitude for the man’s own intervention and guidance.

‘At 27 years, Nicholas is the eldest, and the responsibilities of this role are one of the few aspects of his life which he takes seriously, I cannot put any doubt behind that.’ Indeed, whilst extremely impetuous, the heir’s son also understood the duties of his position and towards his family.

‘Then there is Christopher. The boy has immense athletic abilities but not much beyond that. For a young man of his age of five and twenty, one would assume he would be able to compose himself with a bit more propriety, but it is very difficult for him. He is adventurous and rarely can sit still for an extended period of time, including his mouth. It is suggested that people be careful of what they say around the man.

‘The eldest daughter, Annabelle, married just before we had departed for America, thus is now the lady of her own house.’ Something in his tone suggested he was sad to see the young woman leave home. This possibly has to do with the fact that Miss Annabelle (Now known as Duchess Annabelle Ramsbury) was the most dutiful and respectful of the six children. ‘The marriage had been long overdue as she had just turned 22 on the day of the ceremony, but a love match was found nonetheless.’ The valet guffawed with pride. It was clear to Eddie that, while considering them a nuisance, the man cared deeply for the family he served.

‘I must admit, Trowbridge,’ Eddie chuckled in this horse’s trot pattern over the uneven paths. ‘When you began speaking of the family, I had imagined the children to be… well, children.’

‘How old are you, Munson?’ Trowbridge asked, somewhat bluntly.

‘Twenty, sir.’ Perhaps closer to his next birthday than the last.

‘Ah, just the age of the second daughter then,’ he nodded in agreement. ‘She may perhaps be the most… rebellious of the kin. It is all in good spirit, as you must imagine, and I am sure the interest in such nonsense will dwindle as she matures. She is also the most fond of the family horses; thus, you will see her quite often, I expect. But as her sibling, she has mastered the care for the animals as well as the equipment.’

As he spoke of your skills, something about Trowbridge's expression communicated particular dismay to Eddie. ‘Is that bad? For a young woman to know how to carry herself around a horse?’ He, for one, certainly did not see a problem in it. On the contrary, it was an instrumental skill to develop for anyone.

‘It is not exactly lady-like, is it?’ Trowbridge spoke as if that was the only relevant argument on the matter. Eddie had learned from a very young age that some opinions were better left unsaid, and seeing him as the senior in age and position, Eddie thought it unwise to argue with the valet on his first official day of employment. He instead simply nodded in understanding. Instead, he opted to continue the civil interrogation—

‘What of the youngest two? What are they like?’

‘Fitzwilliam is a dapper fellow. He is but seventeen, but very accomplished, though I cannot say he knows how to put his acquired skills to good use. He has ambitions that cannot be denied; it is just a question of whether these ambitions can ever be met.

‘And lastly, we have Miss Marjorie. A darling girl, I assure you,’ Trowbridge stated. I can only suggest not letting her size fool you, Munson. She has managed to wrap her family around her little fingers the moment she learned to mumble a word, leaving her to cause quite the ruckus for the past eleven years.’

‘I do not see how that involves me, Sir,’ Eddie said. By this time, the sun had begun to set over the fields they passed, and soon, the company would break for their overnight travels at a nearby inn.

‘It had come to my attention over the years that Mr Falstipp–the previous groom, that is— had been quite lenient on the children and their usage of the horses. This has caused a number of incidents that I would rather not see a repetition of.’

‘Understood.’

‘I am unaware of your er– American customs,’ the valet began his lecture, ‘but you must also know that here, ladies are not to ride unaccompanied—something that has been protested in the family to no avail, but it is simply the procedure. There must always be a chaperone nearby to supervise, whether that is a senior member of the family or an entrusted member of the household.’

‘I do not expect to have gained that trust just yet,’ Eddie said earnestly.

‘But let us hope you will.’ The smile Trowbridge gave Eddie was kind at first glance, but the movement of his eyes that inspected him told an entirely different story. He knew he still had much to learn about navigating himself around the kinds of people that were the Byrnwicks, even those who worked for them. The moment he set foot on English soil, he knew it would be challenging to fit in if he ever planned to do so.

The truth is that he did not plan such a change. For you see, Dear Reader, Mr Eddie Munson was also a radical. He did not believe in adapting to society, which was visible in his entire being. One can also imagine the struggle he had to endure when given a uniform to wear. Frankly, the ensemble did not differ much from how the man dressed himself before, but the simple fact that he was told to wear this particular set of clothing upset him severely.

On the first day after his arrival at Ridlington Park, he had managed to justify himself out of dressing in the required clothing by claiming that the trousers were a smidgen too tight. Without another size available, he was told to wear the clothes on his back until the new, fitted attire arrived.

But the clothes did not even begin to reach the problem of the horses he was meant to care for.

Turned out, while he had been given all sorts of warnings against the family, what Eddie should have been preparing for was the beasts that homed the stables. The stubborn animals would not let him touch them, and any attempts were met with angry stares and stomping of the hooves.

‘Easy, there,’ Eddie spoke as softly as he could, taking small steps in any direction that would not enrage the stallion whom he was currently attempting to feed. White Liquorice, a white Arabian, was undoubtedly an animal worthy of a viscount, and from the moment he had stepped into the Ridlington Park stables, Eddie knew that the Kentucky Saddlers and Quarter Horses he grew up with were no match for these and he would quickly have to learn to get on with them if he was to stay here.

Yes, the first days were hard, but not even one week later, he had gotten used to the rhythm of operations. It helped that, working as the barn manager, he was the one in charge and mostly left alone. Mr Trowbridge had visited him to ensure he was adjusting to the new working conditions, which was kind, but besides that, Eddie rarely saw anyone but footmen requesting the carriage to be prepared for the family.

That is until one afternoon when he heard the doors open and someone walking inside. He had been around the corner of the stables, cleaning some grooming tools.

‘Oh, we can both use an escape, I see,’ he heard the intruder speak. It was soft and gentle, most likely referring to one of the horses. Immediately, Eddie was reminded of one of the conversations shared with Lord Byrnwick’s valet. He swiftly got up from his seat and immediately found the culprit.

He watched you pet one of the horses—Barley Sugar, was it—-petting her in a way he had not yet managed to do confidently. ‘How about I get you out of here, hmm?’ These words triggered him to jump into action.

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, ma’am.’ He stepped forward, but his words startled you, causing you to turn around. As you did so, your foot got caught in an old set of bridles Eddie had still planned on detangling and putting away. The surprise coming with the unexpected presence of someone else, combined with the awkward position of your foot, led you to fall over with a shriek.

Eddie cursed under his breath as he watched you huff on the ground. ‘Let me help you,’ he extended his hand to you, ‘and my apologies, it was not my intent to—’

‘Who are you?’ you said in a tone that could only be deemed skittish, if not directly fearful, but not enough to deny his offer to help you stand. Your reaction was validated as you had never met the man standing before you. You eyed him up and down, and the more details you noticed, the more you were sure that you had just stumbled upon a robbery, nay, a kidnapping.

The man's presentation spoke for itself, truly. His long hair was dark and unkept, well over his shoulders. His clothes were nothing like the workers around your house were meant to dress like, making him stick out like a very sore thumb. The trousers were old and worn, and the shirt was loose over his upper body, revealing—oh god, was that a tattoo?

It was clear this is how you were to die.

‘Are you here to steal my horses?’ you blurted out before you could think.

‘What?’ He blinked. ‘No, please, listen—’ but you did no such thing. Instead, you did the only thing a lady in distress could do.

You screamed bloody murder.

‘Help! Anyone! Help—’ you would have kept on going, shouting over his attempt at reason until he finally shut you up by placing his hand over your mouth, his other hand sturdily over your upper arm. The two of you stood there for a moment, chests both heaving in all forms of panic, listening for footsteps or any other presence, but the only sound was the soft breathing of the animals around you.

‘I will let go now, miss,’ Eddie said slowly. Both your eyes were wide from the uncultivated situation that had just occurred. ‘And I will explain everything to you, just, please—and I beg you— do not scream.’ You nodded your head beneath his palm in agreement. Eddie counted to three as he stepped back and finally let go of you. Despite him never blocking your airways, you inhaled deeply.

‘There is absolutely no reason to panic, ma’am.’ His accent was distant, one you had never had the pleasure of hearing before. His eyes, large and dark, locked you in, almost making you lose count of the lingering feeling of his hands on your body. He had given you a moment before he continued speaking, ensuring that you would not resume your screaming or make a run for it.

‘What is your reason of being here?’ You inquired.

‘I work here. Have been, for the past week. I think it was your brother, in fact, that gave me the position. We met on his travels.’

Now, come to think of it, you remembered your family's conversation on the day your father and brother returned. There had been talk of new staff—a young man they had brought along with them from America as an official replacement for the late Mr Falstipp. But that did not explain his attire.

‘You could be fired for breaking the dress code alone, you know. Not to mention for the, uhm, actions you had just performed.’ You commented.

‘Well, you can always report me, miss.’ Eddie, against all his better judgement, smiled.

‘Maybe I should.’ Your heart was still pounding, and you felt so disoriented that even a simple smile made your head spin. ‘What is your name?’

‘Eddie.’

‘Well, Mr Eddie—’ you began, just to be quickly interrupted.

‘No, just Eddie.’ Eddie shook his head.

‘What do you mean? Do you have no family name?’ You had heard of men bringing in street urchins to work for them, but surely, this man was too old for such charity. And you could not imagine your brother to perform such acts of kindness anyway.

‘I do.’ His smile only widened in amusement at the conversation. ‘Eddie Munson.’

‘My, is it usual in America to introduce oneself like that?’ Never had you heard of a man introducing himself by only his first name, let alone a byname.

‘It is usual to me,’ he quipped, ‘And it is more common than not introducing yourself at all.’ The way in which he looked up at you from under his lashes felt accusatory, but you could not find it within you to be upset at the critique, so you gave him your name instead.

‘Pleasure to meet you, Miss Byrnwick.’ He gave you a small, polite bow that reminded you more of how children play Lord and Lady rather than a gentlemanly act. Next thing you knew, a smile was pulling at the corner of your lips, and a small giggle was ready to escape.

For some reason, you hesitated to say your following words: ‘It is a pleasure, Mr Munson.’

‘Please, call me Eddie.’ While always respecting the titles of others, Eddie never saw himself as one to follow such formalities.

‘That is most improper.’ You held back the urge to scoff.

‘But I insist.’ There was something in the corner of his eye that you managed to catch a glimpse of—this spark that no sunlight or fire could match. It was pure mischief, a spirit of chaos. But still, to call a man you barely knew by his first name was simply not right. Your family may jest as they please about your rebelling attitude to primitive customs, but you had to admit that some things ought to be done in a proper manner. And this was certainly not it.

However, Mr Munson saw it in another light but did not find enough of an interest in the subject enough to argue it further. Rather, he cleared his throat briefly and observed you for a moment.

How silly you must look in your fancy dress! Your hair was done up to match, and your shoes were most likely covered in mud. There was also no doubt that he had overheard you talking to your horse about running away. You had good faith that he could connect the pieces to form the complete picture.

A bird flew past a window, making you glance past Eddie’s shoulder in haste.

‘I hope I am not keeping you from any other plans, miss?’ He finally asked. Could you be so bold as to admit that he was saving you from other commitments by conversing with you?

‘No, of course, not Mr Munson,’ you persisted. ‘I am simply cautious.’ Come to think of it, your screams must have been heard all around the grounds. If those who heard, in turn, had an ounce of common sense amongst them, they would have called for someone in the house. If that was the case, your mother would be here momentarily, and then it was back to the house for you. All you could do now was hide.

‘May I ask what are you being cautious of?’ Eddie followed you with his eyes as you walked through the stables, looking for a hiding spot.

‘If you must know, I am currently on the run,’ you stated while looking over a haystack in the far corner.

‘Ah, so whilst you had accused me of being a criminal, it was you who had been committing the crimes then? Should I now scream for help?’

‘I’d rather you didn’t, ' you said, attempting to climb the hay to get past it. ‘I have already brought much too much attention to myself.’ Your foot slipped, making you tumble back down to the ground. The accident made you stop for a moment before attempting to climb again, looking over your shoulder at the man. ‘Are you not going to even try and stop me?’

‘Oh,’ it was as if he had awakened from a deep thought or had just realised that what you suggested was exactly what he ought to do. ‘Well, would you listen if I told you not to climb up there?’

You pondered his question for a short moment. ‘No, I highly doubt it.’ Thus, you resumed your climbing. As you did, you heard the shuffling of his feet behind you. The next time you slipped up, this time from a far higher distance, he had been in precisely the right place to catch you in his arms.

‘I cannot assure you I will be able to catch you once more, so it is in good conscience that I suggest you stop, ma’am,’ he said as you got back to your feet.

‘You are right,’ you admitted. Then you realised just how close the two of you stood and quickly occupied yourself by looking for another hiding place. That is when you noticed it. You had spent years in this stable and knew every inch of the space, yet… ‘Have you moved things around?’ You looked back at Eddie.

‘Only a little. I’m afraid my predecessor did not have a flair for organisation,’ he explained.

‘That may be so, but I would prefer you would put things back as they were.’

‘Excuse me?’ Eddie could not help but laugh at the demand.

‘Your new floor plan has completely disoriented me, ' you admitted. ‘It is unbecoming.’

‘My apologies. I will be sure to put things back as they were, then.’ His laugh still echoed his words.

You had not expected him to actually agree to this request. ‘You will?’ But quickly, you regained your composure and tried to hide the surprise in your voice. ‘Very well, thank you. Then, since you have discarded all of my possible hiding locations, what do you suggest I should do?’

‘I suggest you run.’ But it was not Eddie who had answered you.

‘Mother, ' you gasped. What was it, in God’s good name, with everyone sneaking up on you today? Lady Byrnwick stood at the threshold of the stables with her arms crossed. Her lips tightened into a thin line as she took a step inside. You prepared yourself for a disciplinary outburst, but instead, your mother focused on the man standing next to you.

‘You must be Mr Munson.’ The kindness in her voice was laughable. The overcompensation of her kindness threw both you and Eddie off.

‘Yes, Ma’am.’ You noticed that he bowed his head in a much more orderly fashion than he had done to you.

‘I hope my daughter has not been too much of a nuisance.’

‘Not at all.’ Eddie politely replied.

‘Good, good. Well, I can already see that my son did a good job in finding you,’ she stated as she looked around the retouched interior. ‘And I hope that you will grow to enjoy England.’

‘I’ve had nothing to complain of yet.’ Eddie proudly said with that smile of his, and for a moment, you thought to have caught his eyes on you for just a second. Your mother nodded along with his words in satisfaction, but this cheeriness dissipated as soon as she directed herself to you.

‘Has your headache cleared, dear?’ Her eyes were spitting fire.

‘Yes, mother.’

‘Then we will be on our way.’ She stepped aside, giving you room to walk outside. ‘Goodbye, Mr Munson.’ Eddie had become the unintentional victim of the venom that perferred your mother's words.

He was polite enough to look away as you made your shameful walk through the aisle between the horses’ stalls, but you couldn’t help but look behind you one final time as you left and catch his favourable grin. What a peculiar man he was, indeed—one whose presence you immediately began to miss.

Perhaps that was because of the company you were in at the time.

‘Have you gone completely mad?’ Your mother scowled. ‘Mr Harrington has been waiting for well over half an hour.’

‘He is still here?’ You stopped in your tracks. This day could not have gone any worse. It seemed like everything you had been doing was working in your favour.

‘Yes, so you better come up with a clever excuse for your tardiness as I will not be embarrassed any longer. I swear, have you no shame?’

‘I am truly sorry mother, I had lost track of the time.’

‘Doing what exactly? What were you doing in the stables, exactly? Considering you had told me you were going out for some fresh air.’ Yes, the air around the horses was not exactly to be called “fresh.”

Unfortunately, you had no satisfying answer to any of your mother’s questions. Come to it, you yourself were unsure what exactly had brought you there in the first place, not to mention what made you stay. It must have been a sense of child-like naivete to think you could hide from your problems the way you attempted.

Problems that were coming closer as Mr Harrington walked towards you through the aisle of hyacinths that grew all around you in various colours.

‘What is he doing here?’ you mumbled towards your mother.

‘Considering the lovely weather, I had offered for us to sit out in the gardens.’ Your mother spoke out loud. That is when you noticed the set table and chairs under a large parasol on the patio.

‘I hope you do not mind. I took the initiative of taking a stroll in your absence.’ Mr Harrington spoke in a cadence that would have been new to you if not for the fact that you had spent the last hour in the presence of a very similar tone.

‘Of course, not,’ your mother had regained her ability to smile. ‘May I introduce my daughter.’ And so she did.

‘I am sorry to have kept you waiting, sir. I completely lost track of time.’ You apologised and were ready to offer your hand to Mr Harrington when you noticed how filthy your gloves had become. In a panic, you pushed both your hands behind your back, trying to distract the man with a wide grin.

‘The important thing is that we are all here now,’ he manoeuvred, which you could not help but agree with, then led you to the patio.

The next hour went by faster than you had ever imagined it would. Mr Steve Harrington turned out to be not only a great conversationalist but a rather fascinating one at that. It was only a fault of your own that you were distracted for a larger part of the conversation. There was simply something about the man’s brown eyes that constantly reminded you of somewhere else. He was very charming and, abiding by your brother’s promises, had a great, though perhaps somewhat awkward, wit. It seemed that his confidence, once clearly overt, had been lowered, causing him to stumble over his words at times and laugh at his own mistakes in a deprecating manner, but never enough to make it a bother in your eyes. Truly, it was all rather endearing.

But you could not, for the life of you, figure out what exactly caused these fumblings in his character, as nothing seemed to be particularly wrong with the man. Though you did not see him as an academic or scholar of any sort, from the way he spoke, you could tell he was one of the more clever men you had the fortune of meeting. And his looks were certainly no topic of discussion either. He was tall and lean, with a wonderful smile and soft brown hair that apparently was more common than imagined, as were those dark eyes and the way he held you in his arms—

You took a sip of the cold water as Mr Harrington expressed his gratitude to your mother for the audience and made sure the message would be conveyed to Lord Byrnwick, too. You nodded and smiled along. Even when he bid you farewell and bowed his head, your mind was elsewhere. As if expecting something to emerge from behind the hyacinths, you could not help but glance in the Eastern direction of the gardens.

‘See, it was not all that bad, was it?’ your mother immediately said, pulling you back to the patio. By then, Mr Harrington had excused himself and was crossing the patio to the exit from the grounds but had turned briefly for a final goodbye, which you met with a polite wave.

‘No, I suppose you are right, mother.’ You had persevered against all odds. As you watched the gentleman leave, you felt quite content with the meeting—happy, some would even say. The only problem was that you could not make quite clear what, or rather, who brought on this particular mood.

To be continued...

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weasleyreidstyles · 6 months

Text

Serendipity

chapter three

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. All characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): cannonical violence, mentions of dark magic and torture

series masterlist; previous part; next part

Over the next few weeks, you and Riddle met up in one of the abandoned Astronomy classrooms to practice your lessons, and the library where you really did attempt to tutor him in Ancient Runes, with little to no luck. He was hopeless at the subject.

You were not friends by any means. You were like oil and water, not willing to step over the line that separated friend from foe. He was infuriating as ever, and he seemed to find your incessant need for asking questions entirely incorrigible. But you'd both come to an understanding: this was a necessary sacrifice for the greater good of your mutual friends. It needed to be done.

Your own friends were starting to question the hours you spent with him and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to lie when Harry spent every spare waking hour, that wasn't spent in school or on the Quidditch pitch, scanning the Marauder's Map.

In this particular session, Riddle had bombarded your thoughts with so much information and strain that you thought you'd pass out from exhaustion at any second.

"You're unfocused." he stated, unamused as he watched your hazed expression.

"You've been hounding me, for hours. I'm tired Riddle. Give me a break." you mumbled, voice low and resentful.

No. It's only been fifteen minutes. Due to your lack of focus, the burning sensation had come back at full force, causing you to stumble into the desk behind you.

He tutted, as he wrapped a strong arm around your waist to support you from injury, knowing Theo would probably maim him if something happened to you. When his hands retreated, his touch left a tingling sensation in its wake.

"Fine. 20 minutes. But the hour's not up yet. We'll carry on afterwards." he sounded as irritated as he looked, which had become a common occurrence in these sessions, not helped by your sarcastic commentary whenever you had the strength to cause an argument with him.

You closed your eyes for what felt like seconds, but it must've been for the duration of your 'break' because he woke you up with a forceful nudge.

"Breaks over. Now block me out like I showed you. We both know you're capable, prove to me that this wasn't a massive waste of time."

The burning sensation was back once again but it was duller than before, more manageable.

Ron saving the most goals he'd ever saved in one singular match.

Trying to teach Riddle a simple Rune pattern.

Hermione running out of the Gryffindor common room, tears streaming down her face.

Lavender Brown snogging your best friend.

You successfully locked your thoughts away, securing the lid of the 'box' with a mental thud, watching as the distinct orb of energy you'd recognised as Riddle's magical core, floated to a standstill in your mind.

"Good." he says, his face impassive. "Again."

He enters your mind with more vigour, but you're prepared this time, focusing your energy on keeping the ball of his magic confined to one area of your mind, to stop him unlocking all your thoughts.

What he didn't know was that you'd been reading up on Occlimency in any spare time you had to yourself, which was slim. You focused all your attention on that bright silver orb in your mind and pushed back with as much strength as you could muster. Startled, Riddle's shields fell momentarily.

You found yourself watching him from an outsider's perspective. You were in his home, the Riddle mannor, which gave off an air of stale coldness. Like death itself had taken up residence there. Then you heard it. The low hissing of a snake, Nagini – the snake that had attacked Arthur Weasley just over a year ago.

You watched as she glided past you, towards the shadow of a figure you were too afraid to face.

"My son." Voldemort says, in a creepy sort of drawl. "Have you done as I requested?"

You watched as Riddle, cold and indifferent as always, sucked in a breath before he stared his father in the face. Wordlessly he let the double doors behind him open, letting Malfoy and Berkshire stumble into the room, eyes flickering nervously.

"Yes father." he sounded resentful. And you caught the glance he shared with his two friends. He looked remorseful and almost...sad.

"And what of Master Nott? Master Zabini?" you saw Riddle's facade fall for only a moment, then watched as his shields slipped as he cradled the back of his head with a barely contained wince. Voldemort was in his head.

"Very interesting, my son." Voldemort hissed, eyes narrowed on the boy, who looked entirely too small under his father's watchful glare. "This must be remedied. Perhaps a little punishment will remind you of your place."

Then you watched as a father cast an unforgivable on his only living heir.

You were forced out of his mind with a push similar to what you had done to him, and when you cast your eyes onto his, you found twin obsidian irises...glaring at you.

"Satisfied?" he snarled, stalking towards you, backing you against the wall of the classroom. "Do you feel accomplished, sweetheart?"

The way his fists clashed with the wall on either side of your head prevented you from interpreting this new nickname. You stared up at him, shock and apprehension painting your features.

His eyes, once a cool, calming brown were like deep, black holes, narrowed on your expression. It scared you, rendered you speechless.

You should be scared, sweetheart. I didn't give you permission to do that. Gods, even the voice in your head was frightening. He was menacing.

He seemed to break out of his staring trance and shook his head slightly, as if this was an outer body experience for him. He looked surprised at being so close to you; you swore his eyes trailed from your own to your lips, but it must've been a nasty trick of the light, to dissuade you from this crazed persona he suddenly harboured.

He sighed as he pushed off the wall and without a word, he left. Once again leaving you standing alone in a dark, empty room.

~∞~

The first Hogsmeade trip of the year is always a fun affair. You remember the very first time you stepped out of the carriage onto the cobblestone streets of the town with Ron and Hermione during your third year. And just like that first time, it was magical every year.

This year seemed extra special. Snow was falling heavily from the bright white sky and the third years were having fun throwing snowballs at each other. You were bundled up in warm clothes: hat, scarf, gloves and giant coat, in hopes of not having your limbs freeze.

"I am begging you," you mumble to the Golden trio, who walked beside you, "can we please go to the Three Broomsticks? I'm in need of a Butterbeer. Or better yet, a hot chocolate. I'm so fucking cold."

Ron only laughed at you while you shivered; they all agreed before he yelped and began hastily running away when he realised his detrimental mistake.

The idiot had dumped a load of snow on your head.

"RONALD!" you scream, but it's drowned out by your own laughter, along with Harry and Hermione's, the latter of which hadn't laughed much recently. "I'll get you for that you wanker!"

Your friends had seldom had time to have a proper laugh this year. Each busy with their own endeavours: Ron with his new girlfriend Lavender; Harry with Slughorn, under Dumbledore's ample instruction and Hermione, who was putting all her effort into avoiding the former and trying to persuade Harry to get rid of his potions book (which had given him a fast track to top of the class). It was a wonder that you'd convinced them to come along.

When you entered the pub, sodden and cold from the barrage of snow that Ron had unleashed on you, the warmth of Madame Rosmerta's heating charms caressed you like a tight hug. Unwrapping your scarf from your shoulders and removing your coat, gloves and hat, you slumped into the cushioned seat of a nearby empty table, not taking into account the surrounding occupants.

Riddle was sat among his friends, watching you. He'd been doing that more since he walked out on you a week ago. He didn't turn up to your next session a few days afterwards, and when he didn't show earlier that day, you walked out of the room, incredibly annoyed. But you weren't about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was beginning to affect you.

As you sat side on at the table, with Ron facing his back to them, you saw how, despite his guard being held up extremely well, he huffed a laugh when Enzo said something entirely unfunny and rolled his eyes when Theo said something dramatic. You also saw how his jaw visibly clenched when Pansy was talking about the recent boyfriend who ended up being a complete dick. You wouldn't be surpised to find the boy beaten to a bloody pulp later.

You paid attention to your friends when Harry dropped a steaming cup of hot chocolate in front of you.

"You truly are a life saver, oh Chosen One." you tease as he takes the seat opposite you.

"Piss off." he mumbles, but the smirk on his face tells you that he's not annoyed.

"I feel like we haven't spoke in ages." you say to your friends, who despite all being happy to see you, look like they'd rather be anywhere else. "How's being Captain treating you, Harold?"

As you let your friend mumble on about the stresses of looking after a group of rowdy quidditch players, you can't help the feeling that something terrible was going to happen.

~∞~

An hour or so later, the four of you were wandering down an icy path back up towards the carriages that would take you to the castle, the only other people around were Katie Bell and her friend Leanne, who seemed to be immersed in an argument that you paid little attention to.

Hermione was arguing with Harry about his potions book again when the air around you went eerily still. Then you felt it, this strange feeling. It was magic, you'd recognise the feeling from anywhere, but this was different, it felt entirely too dark.

When the four of you rounded the corner of the lane, that feeling grew inexplicably. Leanne had tried to grab a brown paper package from Katie's grasp but the latter had tugged it back, causing whatever contents inside to fall to the ground. That eery feeling seemed to increase tenfold and you staggered to a holt as Katie Bell was hoisted into the air by an invisible force.

The sight was harrowing. She was six feet in the air by the time you'd raced to where Leanne was panicking. The package appeared to be an antique opal necklace, and it was omitting a deadly magical signature. It was without a doubt, cursed.

Harry went to touch it, but you rapidly grabbed his arm. "Don't. It's been cursed."

He looked at you incredulously but at that moment, poor Katie, who's hair was whipping wildly in her expressionless face, let out a gut renching, terrifying scream.

It seemed that Riddle and his friends rounded the corner at that moment; Theo and Pansy running to stand beside you, faces matching your own. Katie was still screaming when Riddle went to examine the necklace.

"It's been cursed." he mumbled to himself.

"We've already established that, Riddle." you mutter, glaring at him. He ignored you. "We can't deal with this ourselves. We need a teacher."

He seemed to agree with you as he sent Enzo and Zabini running back to the pub in search of someone, anyone. In the meantime, Katie seemed to be losing height and was getting lower to the ground, although she was still writhing uncontrollably. Mattheo, Theo and Ron managed to gently lower her body to the ground and you immediately went to check her over, until she began thrashing and screaming again, knocking away your approaching hand, sending an excruciating sensation up your forearm.

You winced, but only Riddle seemed to notice.

Enzo and Zabini came sprinting up the lane at that moment, Hagrid following hastily behind them.

"Get back!" the gamekeeper yelled, prompting you to all back away from Katie.

Leanne was a mess, sobbing as she tried to explain to Hagrid but he seemed to hear none of it as he stared down at the writhing girl for a moment. Without a word, he scooped her into his arms and began to run back up to the castle with her, carrying her piercing screams with him.

Hermione and Pansy immediately went to Leanne's aid, but you didn't move from your spot on the floor, staring at your arm, that was still burning.

Someone knelt in front of you, and expecting Theo, you looked up, startled to find Riddle, staring at you.

You looked away from him, but he cupped your chin with his fingers to bring your gaze to his.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly, a curious look on his face, and underlines of worry were there too. But you only had one concern.

"Why could I feel the dark magic in that necklace? And why did she burn me and not any of you?" you asked timidly. You appeared to be shaking, from the adrenaline or the cold, you were none the wiser.

"I'm not sure, but we'll figure it out." he assured, he looked as confused as you felt.

"How?" you snapped. "You haven't shown up for the past week, Riddle."

He sighed as if annoyed before he did something you didn't know he was caple of.

"I'm sorry, okay. You caught me off guard, and I panicked. I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"Did you just apologise to me, Mattheo?" a slow smile began to graze your face.

"Tell anyone and I'll make you regret it." he muttered, but his brown eyes carried mirth as he stared at you.

You were about to reply when you saw Ron in the corner of your eye crounching bu the antique necklace.

"Don't touch it, Ron!" you said, jumping up, bursting the bubble that you and Riddle had created. Your friend startled and moved away from the necklace.

"I've seen it before." Harry mumbled and you watched as Riddle and all his friends tensed, it was a wonder that none of the boys you were with started throwing insults towards eachother. "On display in Borgin and Burkes ages ago. The label said it was cursed, Katie must've touched it."

Theo scoffed, which seemed to remind the trio that the Slytherins were still there.

"Something to say, Nott?" Ron snapped.

"Anyone with a brain can see that it was cursed, Weasley. But you still went to touch it. Thank Salazar for Meadow." Theo rebutted and you had half the mind to stand between the two of them to stop the fight, but you felt lightheaded. You needed to sit down, or maybe sleep for a week.

You grabbed hold of the closest thing for stability: Riddle's stupidly strong arm. He startled but said nothing as he held you up, hands cradling your forearms.

What's wrong? His voice was a soft caress.

I feel like I might pass out. My arm is burning.

Did you touch the necklace?

I think I'd be halfway in the air if I did, Mattheo.

He looks concerned.

I'm taking you to Madame Promfrey. Take the necklace too.

He seems to say something to Theo, who interrupts a sobbing Leanne in favour of levitating the necklace away.

"We'll take this to Madame Pomfrey." he says and at Hermione's troubled look, he reassures her. "Meadow's with us. She'll make sure it gets there Granger."

With that, you're guided away by the Slytherin prince and all his friends, but it all feels like a fever dream.

~∞~

the change in nickname🫢

and Meadow called him Mattheo instead of Riddle🤭

gonna start a taglist too, as its been requested so comment if you want to be added xxx

taglist:

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8

#mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #theo nott #ron weasley x reader #harry potter #hogsmeade #serendipity series

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vivwritesfics · 5 months

Text

Everybody Wants To Rule The World

Chapter One - Criminal

Oscar Piastri worked for a criminal organisation. It wasn't the life he wanted, wasn't the life he had chosen for himself. But, like those before him, he didn't have any other choice.

He was just a rookie in the Verstappen organisation. He got stuck with the shitty jobs, like watching over Verstappens latest intake, a petty criminal who makes stealing cars look hot.

1.9K

Warnings: Mentions of drugs

Series Masterlist

In the early hours of the morning, when the sun was painting the sky of the city pink, Alex Albon and Esteban Ocon had the biggest bag of cocaine either of them had ever seen. The two rarely delt with narcotics for their boss, but tonight he had a special job for the two of them.

Alex kept watch as Esteban, whose body was longer and thinner, worked his way beneath the car. They used the car jack to raise it slightly as Esteban got beneath and stuck the cocaine to the bottom of the car.

Who did this car belong to? Well that doesn't matter. Not for now, anyway.

Giggling, the two took off, driving back to their bosses head quarters.

In this same part of the city, a girl was running from the blue and red flashing lights. That was the problem when you steal cars, you always have to be on the lookout for the polite.

Y/N L/N happened upon this car with the cocaine stuck to the bottom of it. He had maybe a minute before the police car caught up to her. A minute to get the car open and a minute to drive away.

She got the car open easily. It was old, a classic. The owner would be sad to see it go, but that wasn't something she could afford to think about.

Pulling her hat from her head she worked about hot wiring the car and tuned the radio to her liking. Twenty five seconds until the police caught up with her.

The radio was also old, as old as the car. It was going to take her some time before she found the right station.

At least, the end of Rick Astleys 'Never Gonna Give You Up' played and Tears For Fears 'Everybody Wants to Rule The World' began. Y/N grinned as she put the car into gear and floored it, heading towards the outskirts of the city.

She had to lose the cops before she returned to her boss. If she brought the police to his door, she'd never hear the end of it. Or her blood would be spilt. There was no telling.

Y/N managed to get away from the cops. Usually they'd give up and she could drive away, unscathed. But tonight was different. Tonight they weren't giving up.

"Fucking pigs," she muttered as she turned down an alleyway, trying to conceal herself and the car. She cringed as its sides scraped against the walls of the buildings it was squashed between. At least it would be harder to identify now.

But she had fucked it. She went to turn left down the alleyway, only to find herself blocked by a wall. A fucking wall. She was done for, screwed, and in so much trouble.

The police cars pulled in behind her. They had the sense not to follow her down the alleyway and get themselves stuck. Instead, they pulled out their guns and pointed them at the girl in the car, demanding she exit the vehicle.

Y/N wound down the car window. "I can't get the door open!" She called, hoping the police heard her. "So I'm going to break the back window and climb out that way, okay?"

She hasn't a hardened criminal, not in the way that mattered. She'd never had a run in with the police before and she didn't quite know what to do. So, she did as her father had taught her and remained calm and collected. Show them you mean no harm and they won't harm you.

She waited for confirmation from the police office closest to the car before climbing into the back of the car and kicking at the back window. It was no easy task, getting the back window separated from the car. It was a few good kicked before the sheet of glass fell away, allowing her to climb from the car with her hands up.

She was cuffed, placed in the back of a police car and taken to the station while the owner of the car was contacted. They took the cocaine from the car and drove Y/N to the station.

"There's something wrong with your car," she tried to say to the police officers, able to tell from the sound alone. But they weren't having any of it. They shut her up and continued driving to the station.

At the station they placed her in the holding cell. Prostitutes and other criminals surrounded her as she sat on the bench and closed her eyes. She just stole a car, she'd be out of here in no time.

But suddenly a police officer called her name. She opened her eyes and walked over to the door of the holding cell, walking past the petty thieves and flashers.

An officer grabbed her arm and marched her over to his desk. He pushed her into a chair and cuffed her hand to the arm. "So," he began as he sat on the other side of the desk. "Where did you get the coke?"

"Coke?" Y/N asked as she tried sit forward.

The officer let out a sigh. "You know, blow, bump, nose candy, sniff, snow, white rock."

"Hey now, I don't fuck with drugs," she called, slumping back in the chair. "If there was cocaine on that car, it was there before I got to it," she said.

The officer let out another sigh. He uncuffed her from the chair and marched her back to the holding cell. He threw her in locking the door behind her. If she wasn't going to talk, she could rot in there.

But she wasn't going to rot in there. The arresting officer suddenly got a phone call that he rushed to answer. The number was withheld and he knew exactly who it was.

The voice on the other end of the phone was soft, the accent unrecognisable. The voice maybe have been soft, but the officer still did exactly what he said.

"Yes, sir," he said, listening to the person. "Right away, sir."

The person on the other end of the phone hung up and the officer stretched out his limbs. This was maybe his least favourite part of the job, having to let the criminals go because the most powerful man in the city commanded it.

The officer opened the holding cell and grabbed a hold of the girl he had just arrested. He held her arm, his grip bruising as he dragged her out of the holding cell. "Your charges have been taken care of," he grumbled as he marched her out out the precinct, around to the back.

Still holding her arm, he placed two fingers in his mouth and whistled.

A black van, which had previously been inconspicuously parked in the corner of the parking lot, rumbled to life. The engine was old, clearly, but it sounded amazing. The door slid open and three men, all in pristine suits jumped out. One strode over, a black sack in his hands.

The two others circled around her, taking her from the officer. The officer said nothing and quickly rushed back inside. The two men grabbed her hands and wormed together to tie them behind her back. The bindings were tight, cutting into her skin. But she knew better then to panic.

"Sorry about this," said the third man, standing in front of her. Y/N had just about enough time to study his face, his dark eyes, the moles on his face, his round cheeks ans pillowy lips. His hair, which parted down the middle, soft and fluffy and shiny.

She shrugged her shoulders and he placed the bag over her head.

There was no point fighting them as they walked her to the van, she'd seen their guns the moment they'd jumped out of the van. The two that had tied her hands sat behind her as the pretty one, the one who had placed the bag over her head climbed into the driver's seat.

He always drove, no matter the job. It was what he loved, what he was good at, what kept him calm.

The drive wasn't very long. Or, it hadn't seemed long to the captive, who was trying her best to keep time using the songs playing on the radio. They weren't out of the city, or, they weren't very far outside of it.

"Oh, turn this one up," she said, her words muffled, and the driver did just that, twisting the knob attached to the radio to turn up the volume.

Before too long the driver killed the engine and the sliding door to the van was thrown open. Y/N was dragged to her feet, one man holding each arm, and walked forward. She had no idea where she was or where she was going. The only indicator that she had walked into a building was the stale air, the buzz of the lights overhead and the feeling of the floor beneath her feet. These were the sorts of things you had to learn to survive.

She went into a room, her feet hitting the metal threshold strip that sat between rooms, and was sat in a chair.

The bindings were pulled from her hands and the bag from her head. She blinked quickly, the light flooding into her eyes all too bright.

But then she looked around, looking at the art on the walls surrounding her, at the table in front of her, at the man on the other side of that table.

She knew who she was in an instant, her heart pounding in her chest. His hair was a dirty blonde, combed back out of his face, and the beginnings of a beard surrounded his mouth. His eyes were a little far apart, but it didn't look bad on him. No, he was a very handsome man. Dangerous and terrifying, but handsome.

"You stole from me." That was the first thing his said.

Y/N couldn't stop her eyes from going wide. Him. She wasn't supposed to steal from him. The one rule she had for this job was don't steal from him. If she had known the car belonged to him, she would have run in the other direction. But it was too late now.

"I'm impressed. Nobody has ever had the balls to steal from me before. What makes you different?" He leaned forward, resting his chin on his knuckles. "

Y/N went to push her chair back, but a hand, covered in rings, settled on her shoulder and squeezed. She didn't dare turn to see who was behind her. "I swear, I didn't know it was you're car."

"Don't you know stealing is wrong?" The man in front of her narrowed his eyes. "As soon as the car was on the move, we watched you. That was a pretty good drive, until you fucked up."

Verstappen sat up a little straighter. He sat back and waited, waited for her to say something.

Truth be told, Y/N was a little lost for words. What was he playing at? Did he know who she was?

Suddenly, Verstappen stood up. He signalled for her to stand up and the person behind her pulled her to her feet and pushed her after his boss.

They took her through the halls of a house, with the same amount of pretty art. Verstappen didn't so much as glance at the art as they walked past, and she had a feeling that it wasn't his taste. The man behind her kept his ringed hand on her shoulder as he steered her after Verstappen.

They walked her into a garage and stopped her in the doorway. "Okay," said Verstappen, gesturing to the plethora of cars in front of him. They were all gorgeous cars, better than anything Y/N had ever stolen before. Super cars, classic cars, Verstappen had them all.

"Show me what you got."

TAGLIST (OPEN): @biancathecool @graciewrote

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sweetlyskz · 3 months

Text

Emerald Gem||Chapter Six

Hybrid!OT7 x Fem!Reader

Overview: Living away from society has its perks. All natural food from your thoroughly cultivated farm, no nosy neighbors, and peace and security with your animals. But sometimes you did get lonely, having no one to talk to but the cows and pigs. However, when 7 extremely wanted hybrids stumble upon your deserted farm, everything changes.

Genre: Hybrid Au, Strangers to lovers, slow burn, smut, fluff

Warnings: SUGGESTIVE, some language, harsh themes

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: Tags list is now CLOSED! Thank you guys for loving this pic <3 lots more to come soon!

Unedited

Your dinner was getting cold. For some reason, you couldn’t pick up the fork. Your hands were too busy gripping the table, bewildered by the sight in front of you.

“Are you going to come greet us or just sit there?” Yoon teased, showing that gummy smile you missed so much. The others were behind him, Jimin laid on Taehyung’s back. You could tell they had been through hell and back. Jin could barely stand on his own two feet, leaning on Hobi for support.

“I- what are you guys doing here?” You never thought you would see them again. Now that they’re here in front of you, you don’t know what to say. Even after all that time practicing what to say if they came back.

Im sorry. Please stay. I missed you.

Instead, you asked “Where’s Namjoon?”

The smile on Yoongi’s face quickly turned into a frown, telling you all you needed to know. Maybe you couldn’t do anything to convince him to stay, maybe Joon was just a lost cause- that’s what you tried to convince yourself anyway.

“I’m so sorry-.” You tried to apologize but Jungkook quickly shut it down with a quick embrace. As soon as you felt his arms wrap around your waist you were at ease. But once he pulled away, you yearned for more. It was just a second, but you still craved it nonetheless.

“Don’t apologize when you have nothing to be sorry for. He made his bed. Now he has to lay in it.”

“Speaking of beds”, Jimin interrupted, apparently lucid enough to speak clearly. “May I go to mine? I haven’t had a proper sleep in weeks…”The guys chuckle at Jimin lack of consciousness. It made you smile knowing they could laugh in dire situations. It comforted you, hearing Jimin call the bed his. It was his bed.

This is his home.

***

After eating dinner, everyone went there separate ways. They were probably looking forward to having a nice, cozy bed all to themselves. You laid in bed trying to rest, but your mind wouldn’t allow it. Yes, you were happy to have the six wanted hybrids back home, but every time you thought about Namjoon your stomach turned from worry. Apparently you weren’t the only one.

“Hey Y/n?” The Bunny hybrid stood in front of your bedroom door holding his favorite black and blue pillow.

“Hey Kook”, you leaned against the headboard, getting a better look at him. He looked frazzled, like there was something on his mind. You know that look all too well. “Can’t sleep?”

He nodded, making his way to the unoccupied side of the bed. He laid down next to you, getting as close to you as he could while holding his pillow to his chest.

“Worried about Namjoon”, he whispered into his pillow. “Never been anywhere without him. Im scared…”

You gently removed the pillow from his chest, replacing it with your warmth. Jungkook immediately relaxed in your embrace, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. You felt like home- nice and warm. You were familiar to him, someone his could call his. Yes, he had the guys, but he grew up with them so it was different. The bond he built with you was new, and easy.

You placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, rubbing his back soothingly. “I know”, you whispered. You of all people know what it’s like to lose someone. You know the feeling of curiosity, the feeling of wondering where your person may be.

“Don’t worry. We’ll find him… I promise.”

You continued to rubbed Kook’s back, soothing him to sleep. There in the darkness, you both laid. It was quiet- serene.

“How did we get so lucky?” He murmured, eyelids fluttering on the brink of sleep. “What did we do to deserve you?”

He fell asleep before you could respond, before you could find the words to answer him. But his question kept you up all night, looking for the right words. How do you tell the person you just met that you’re falling? How do you explain to him that it’s you who was lucky enough to find seven incredibly selfless people.

“You deserve the world”, you whispered, finding comfort in his unconsciousness. “All of you do..”

“I love you. More than you know...”

***

You expected jungkook to be gone when you woke up, but there he was- still laid in your arms. He looked peaceful. Even with the cuts and bruises on his face, he was beautiful. And there it goes again- butterflies in your stomach. It was a feeling you haven’t felt in a long time. The feeling was warm and comfortable, but also scary.

But you couldn’t lay in bed all day, admiring all of Jungkook’s features. The farm needed tending to, and breakfast needed to be made. When you went to sit up, a pair of hands quickly pulled you back down.

“Don’t leave yet”, he whispered, sending a shiver down your spine. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Kook”, you sighed, pretending to be irritated. “I’ve gotta go cook and feed the animals. You can come help if you want.”

He shook his head, pouting like a sad little kid. “Hobi already tended to the farm and Yoon made everyone breakfast. Now, lay down with me please.”

“Oh” was all you could say. You didn’t have any other excuse. The guys made sure of that. So you let him cuddle you, the way you did him. And for a while, you laid in his arms peacefully.

“You trust me tight?” Kook questioned.

“With my life”.

He scooted closer to you, putting his head in the crook of your neck. You could feel him breathing on you, making you nervous.

“Just trust me, okay?”

You nodded. “O-okay.”

Taking his sweet time, he placed gentle kisses from your neck to your ear. It had you squirming in anticipation, wondering where his lips would move to next.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now”, he breathed by your ear, running a hand up and down your waist. One hand made its way to your breast, messaging it through your night shirt. You gasp at the sudden feeling, giving him room to connect your lips with his. The kiss was soft and gentle, yet it still made you’re mind go blank. “Namjoon would loose his mind if he knew.”

You pushed away immediately after hearing his name. Namjoon, their pack leader. What would he think about the pack maknae comforting you in your bed? Your stomach turned just thinking about it.

“I should probably go check on the others, it’s a little too quiet”, you thought up an excuse, leaving a dumbfounded Jungkook in your bedroom.

***

As you walked down the creeky stairs, the aroma of pancakes and syrup surrounded you. When you entered the living room, four hybrids sitting on the couch devouring their plate.

“Oh! You’re awake!” Hoseok beamed. “Yoon thought we should wait for you to come down, but I couldn’t help myself.”

“It’s okay”, you smiled. The smell of the morning breakfast was making your stomach growl. Jimin scooted to the edge of the couch, making some room for you to sit.

“Here, grab your plate and you can watch with us”, he offered. The Saturday cartoons were on, Tae’s favorite. Tom and Jerry always made him laugh, and don’t even get him started on road runner.

“Sorry, I can’t. Lots of farm work to do. But let’s play a game outside later!”

Jin, lying down on the other side of the couch, pointed a finger at Hoseok. “Hobi already did it! The silos are full and the chicken coops are clean! I fed the animals too!”

The stairs creaked once more. Jungkook, with his doe eyes and fluffy hair, entered the living room. “Good Morning”, he greeted in his raspy morning voice.

You could feel the butterflies again.

“You sure slept well, didn’t you?” Jimin smirked. “You might want to adjust your self, kook. It’s looking right at me.”

He glared at jimin. “What are you ta- Oh shit.”

If Jimin didn’t say anything, you would’ve never noticed, but now you can’t unsee it- the tent in the bunny hybrids pants. The others laughed at him while you blushed feverishly.

“What were you dreaming about kookie?” Tae teased the youngest.

“More like who was he dreaming about?” Hobi joined in. You couldn’t even think straight. Instead of joining in the taunting banter, you decided to quietly grab a seat and try to wipe the red off your face.

But Jungkook wasn’t going to let you get away so easily.

“Blame Y/n! It’s her fault”, He exclaimed with his back turned adjusting himself. Suddenly all eyes shifted to your side of the couch, and you could no longer hide your embarrassment. And with the embarrassment was also shock.

“I- I didn’t! We never-“ You stuttered trying to find the right words. Was there any right way to explain how you made their pack mate hard? Probably not…

“You worry too much”, Kook huffed, slightly irritated. “You’re our family now. I’m as just as close to you as I am my pack. You practically are apart of us now!”

You tugged at the loose string on your shirt, eyes on the floor as if you had just been scolded. “But Namjoon-“

“Joon will come around eventually”, Jin interjected. “He knows where home is. He’ll make his way back to us soon.”

***

The room felt cold, ice cold. And even though he hadn’t opened his eyes yet, he already knew where he was.

“No! Please, Not again!” Joon begged, body trembling.

The men in white lab coats laughed. “You’re lucky you still alive. We can keep it that way, too! Just tell me where the others are and no one has to get hurt.”

Namjoon laid on the cold white floors, gripping the metal bars caging him in. If the bars weren’t there, everyone in the room would’ve been dead, by his hand. Just hearing the sinister laugh of the people who hurt his pack made him want to tear them into shreds.

“Fuck you!” He spat. He banged and beat on the cell bars, but It was no use. He couldn’t break them. And now he’s in a situation he cannot escape.

And now he’s silently calling you for help.

Please, he begged. Save me!

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writingmeraki · 30 days

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project : get the guy — enha hyung line smau.

SYNOPSIS : chaos ensues when you're assigned to do a project with the four supposed "cool kids" of the university and even more chaos when apparently one of them likes you, just that you have no idea who.

( or thinking being assigned with Heeseung, Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon would end with a successful project, a good grade, and perhaps even in Mr.Jeon's good graces was probably your biggest misconception rather you ended up with more irritancy for humans, possible grey hair from dealing with their questionable sanity, them having to deal with you *shivers* but on the bright side who would have guessed you might have just gotten yourself your dream boy? )

PAIRING : enhypen hyung line x gn!reader, ?? x gn!reader.

GENRE : short smau & written, crack/humour ( attempts ) angst, fluff and romance.

WARNINGS : attempts at humour, sexual jokes/suggestive tones, sunghoon ( yes he’s a separate warning ), possible making out, cussing, kys/kms jokes, mentions of alcohol…etc ( each chapter will have its own warnings )

FEATURING : all of enhypen, namjoon & jungkook ( bts), wonwoo & mingyu ( svt ), chaewon & sakura ( lssfrm ), more to be added !

STATUS : ongoing.

TAGLIST : OPEN.

CURRENT TAGLIST : @strxwberry-skiess ; @whippedforbeomgyu ; @urszn ; @cha3w0n-hearts ; @cassie6392 ; @nicholasluvbot : @xiaoderrrr ; @eleanorheartschishiya ; @wonunuwoo ; @antonsgirlfriend ; @aygotnobitches ; @dimplewonie ; @hoeinthehouse ; @belovedsthings ; @cookiesandgravy ; @deffnotnia ; @winuvs ; @riksaes ; @sol3chu @starchasing-cryptid

! PROFILES.

the slayers 🙏™ | F4 ( at home edition ) 🔥 | da krabby patty secret formula 🙀

¡ CHAPTERS.

project #1 : this is literally targeted hatred.

project #2 : fuck the correction he don't deserve that.

project #3 :

A/N: ah yes here we go, a remake/repost of this smau that I never did in fact write! i found the gc screenshots I made and suddenly it inspired me to want to write this cause there was potential 😔 tagging the people who asked to be tagged before ( the og post ), lmk if you want to be removed ! but hope you like this as much as I'm excited because I have the profiles ready and first chapter almost done :D let me know what you think!!

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

links : main navigation | enhypen masterlist | info

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twstgarden · 6 months

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❀ ❝ 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲'𝘀 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀? ❞

━ diasomnia (malleus draconia, lilia vanrouge, silver, sebek zigvolt) x reader (separated) ━ true love's kiss? now, where will you or the diasomnia boys get that? (f/n means first name)

requested by: anonymous <3 request type: oneshot requester's message: Hi 🩵 I saw your requests are open 😍 I was hoping if I can request a true love kiss scenario with the four diasomnia dorm members? If they get kisses awake or the diasomnia men do is your choice florist's note: hello, dearie. i went for both, hope you enjoyed. thank you for the request.

this work does not contain spoilers for chapter 7, diasomnia’s arc.

do not steal or translate without my permission.

━ malleus draconia ━

being struck by a curse was already frightening enough on its own but knowing that the cure is something deemed as impossible – which is a true love’s kiss – you knew you were doomed for life. from what you knew, the curse given to you was you’d fall into a sleep-like death the moment you reach a certain age in adulthood. ever since then, you had no hope that you’ll ever live past that age.

your beloved remained unaware of this curse, however. it’s not like you didn’t want him to know, it’s just that he never asked, but then again, who would casually ask someone if they have been cursed?

you can imagine the fear and worry showing in his eyes the moment you lost your consciousness. the two knights immediately got to your aid while he rushed to you and assessed your physical being, to see if you were alright. you seem to be asleep and yet your heart was barely beating.

it took a lot to keep his composure, but lilia knew all too well that malleus was close to losing his mind any moment now. the older fae assisted the two knights by carrying you to a bed, to ensure you rest properly before they call for a magic doctor to check on your health.

…

“i don’t see any health issues… however, there is a trace of a powerful spell in their being similar to that of a curse,” spoke the doctor as they looked up to see the faces of the four diasomnia members. malleus’ eyes widened at the revelation as he replied, “a curse? she never told me she had one…”

the doctor sighed and proceeded to share the diagnosis with them in a sad manner, “her curse seemed to have something similar to death, but seeing as she looks as if she is asleep, we can deduce what she was struck with…”

the doctor did not need to continue talking as he knew that the four immediately knew what the curse was and its cure. lilia thanked the doctor for his help as malleus knelt on the floor right beside your sleeping corpse, holding your hand and sensing how cold it was slowly becoming, and yet your face showed no signs of death.

“such curse has a cure that we deem impossible, malleus…” spoke lilia gently, trying to console the young prince after losing his loved one. malleus tried not to have a breakdown, holding your limping hand tighter as he caressed your cheek, “true love’s kiss… is there really such thing?”

“like i said, an impossible cure…” replied lilia, but he was also determined to know if such thing was true, “…but we can try.”

malleus looked at you for a moment, brushing his thumb over your cheek as silver and sebek watched. a moment passed and he decided to lean close, placing his lips on yours for a bittersweet kiss before pulling away with a sad smile. there was a glint of hope in his eyes, hoping that he was indeed your one true love and that you would wake up, but he also wondered to himself that what if it was not him? what if you did not love him the way he loves you?

all those doubt washed away the moment your eyes fluttered open a bit, and a huge smile was seen on malleus’ face whilst lilia, silver, and sebek let out a sigh of relief. your beloved immediately wrapped his arms around you the moment your eyes were wide open and gazing up at the ceiling, a gasp of surprise left your lips once he hugged you close.

“i’m… alive?” you spoke in a rather surprised tone as you knew you would not survive the curse, and yet here you are in the arms of the man you love the most. malleus placed another kiss on your forehead before giving you a disappointed expression, “why did you not disclose the details of your curse to me? if i had known, i would have done something sooner…” a sigh then escaped his lips, “but… i’m glad you’re awake now.” his embrace tightened as he buried his face into your hair, taking a whiff of your scent to comfort himself as the fear of losing you grew even stronger, “please don’t ever leave me like that.”

━ lilia vanrouge ━

you were done with your lessons for the day and you felt ecstatic to return to your dorm to see your dearly beloved once more. with your books in hand, you walked towards your dormitory’s mirror with a hop on your step, humming a soft tune as you passed by the mirror and walked down the entrance of diasomnia.

upon arrival, you saw malleus and silver on the lounge, drinking what seemed to be black coffee while sebek was by the stairs with a displeased expression, almost as if he was jealous of silver spending some quality time with their master by drinking the same beverage.

you chuckled at sebek’s expression and approached him by the stairs, “you okay?”

sebek huffed in response, “silver is drinking black coffee with the young master! if only i could drink the same beverage, but i cannot stand the taste and prefer it with milk!” you tried not to laugh as you merely smiled, “right, there’s nothing wrong with wanting milk in your coffee, seb.”

you then patted his shoulder and went upstairs, heading to lilia’s room to check if he was there, and indeed he was. you were greeted by a messy sight with some trinkets on the floor and unorganized items on his desk – you knew he had terrible cleaning skills, but you were not expecting this.

and there he was, asleep on his comfy bed as the star that settled atop his bed glowed a little. you sighed and closed the door, approaching your sleeping beloved and taking a seat on the bed, watching his chest rise and fall with every breath as his eyes remained closed, his eyelashes were long and luscious, and his lips were parted.

you caressed his cheek and gently fixed his bangs before placing a soft kiss on his forehead. as you were about to stand up, you felt a hand grasp your own and you turned your head to see your beloved awake with a smile, pulling you down and placing a kiss on your lips.

“looks like i was woken up by true love’s kiss~”

you rolled your eyes at his antics and chuckled before kissing his forehead, “then it looks like i’m your true love, old man.”

━ silver ━

you were exhausted.

your energy was spent after your physical education lessons. you were instructed by coach vargas to run a hundred laps before proceeding with flying lessons, which exhausted the life out of you. with no energy left to spend, you entered the lounge of your dorm and dropped your bag on the floor before plopping yourself onto the couch, not caring about anything else other than sleep.

your eyes went shut as sleep overtook your tired figure. hours have passed, but you had not known how long you were asleep. you were awoken by the feeling of something soft and sweet on your lips, but it unfortunately lasted for a short while, which caused you to flutter your eyes open.

“mm…?”

your eyes fluttered open and the first thing you see is your boyfriend’s slightly surprised expression upon seeing you awake, and that’s when you realised, he kissed you. you smiled groggily at him and ruffled his hair before sitting up, “you woke me up with your true love’s kiss~ hehe...”

silver smiled at your remark and kissed your forehead, “you should rest in your room. i already brought your bag upstairs and fixed the bed for you.”

━ sebek zigvolt ━

sebek had unfortunately fallen ill and had been stubborn the whole time. he refused to take his medicine, saying he did not need it. he refused to rest as he did not want to acknowledge that he had a cold, and went as far as to say that his immune system was not so weak that he’d get sick so easily.

silver sighed at his stubbornness and looked at you for a moment. you gave him a quick glance before approaching sebek and pulling on his arm, “seb, you need to rest.”

“rest? absolutely not, i’m fine! don’t let what the doctor said discourage you! i have no cold,” argued the half-fae as he continued on carrying eight chairs to the mirror chamber all at once. silver opted to help as he carried some chairs too, but sebek insisted he’d do it by himself.

‘how stubborn…’ you thought to yourself as you crossed your arms and waited for him to finish his task. you knew there was no way he would stop now.

once he was done with his task, you dragged him back to the dormitory and made him sit on the couch with a stern expression, “sit.”

“but–!”

“no buts. sit down.” you commanded as you grabbed his medicine, causing him to grumble as he stayed put on the couch, allowing you to nurse him. as you gave him his medicine, he took it without another word before thanking you softly.

after taking his prescribed medication, you sighed and sat down next to him, ruffling his hair with a small smile as you spoke gently this time, “don’t be so stubborn next time… take care of yourself. you’re sick.”

“i can handle a cold…”

“sebek.”

you were always surprised by how much your actions and words affected him. normally, he would never dare to listen and obey a human’s commands, but with you, he does.

“fine… besides, i might be a nuisance to the master if i were to be sick while i stood guard by his side!”

ah, there he is.

you chuckled at his worry over his duties towards malleus. you then smiled and gave him a kiss on his forehead, “here. a true love’s kiss to make you feel better~”

his cheeks immediately went red as he exclaimed, “f/n!!!”

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xlillyle · 8 months

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Why in my humble opinion the episode brings the Mersault arc to a satisfying end regarding Fyodor, Dazai, Chuuya and the message it has

So, there's a lot of energy buzzing around in the fandom with the latest episode and I felt like some things have not been pointed out enough, therefore I'm gonna share my thoughts on the parts of Mersault. This is a thread that focuses on the conclusion of the Mersault arc as presented in the most recent episode of the anime in season 5 and I will elaborate on what I think the message of the Mersault arc is, what Fyodor's role in this arc is, I will comment on why I think he was defeated and why it fits the message and I will also go into more detail of how Chuuya and Dazai play into all of this and what I think happened in Mersault.

I'd like to start with these panels from the manga, chapter 77:

Together with this one from chapter 105:

I think these panels convey the core message of the Mersault arc very well and its goal: Everyone is just human, no matter how smart. And humans are capable of amazing things and even moreso if they come together. This is the greatest difference between Fyodor and Dazai who have been countless of times painted and stated as each other's equals - yes, they are intellectually of a level most can only dream of, only rivaled by Ranpo, but unlike Fyodor, Dazai has learnt to trust humans and understands their bonds to each other.

Fyodor doesn't.

It's a message that is heavily implied and then outright stated by Dazai in the last episode:

The reason why Fyodor fails is that he doesn't trust in people and because he doesn't understand humans in that regard - he thinks that he is above this concept, thinks he can manipulate them and that they're just pawns. It's shown in the way he talks about Sigma, it's shown in the fact that he chose to use Chuuya who is Dazai's partner against Dazai to dangle him in front of Dazai and it's shown when he mocks Dazai for not being "able" to use a "gravity manipulator" and drops the famous line of them having a "shallow bond".

Fyodor is arrogant and very confident in his own abilities, including the one to control those around him. That's what makes him slacking though, he can't comprehend that a plan that relies on a bond and trust would be able to deceive and defeat him and the closer he gets to his goal, the less he cares. That's why he allows Dazai this last speech in 109 too, he doesn't think anything can defeat him. Dazai is at his wit's end, Fyodor is the winner. There's no way that Dazai has a backup plan, Fyodor is a genius and he already thought of everything that could possibly be, so there's no way, right?

Mersault always was about showing what humans are capable of and what they can achieve and that trusting in your allies, in your bonds with the people you love, makes you more capable and achieve higher goals. And it's exactly what happened.

Dazai states that he doesn't have control over all things, that he had a lot of uncertain cards. But he trusted in his allies and it pays off. He wins not because he has it all figured out from the start and a backup plan for the backup plan of the backup plan, he did his part of the plan and adjusted to the scene and left the rest in full trust with his allies.

This pilot stabbing Fyodor worked because Dazai trusted in the agency and Ranpo and them taking over control the vampires in time. And the rest of the Mersault story before all this?

That brings me to my next point, actually. We learn in the episode that it was all a SKK scheme:

Now, some people were unsatisfied that a plan that simple couldn't fool Fyodor, but I think that is exactly the point of it. Chuuya is a great actor (in Stormbringer he fools with grief and shock Albatross in thinking he saved the in two halves separated Doc for example) and the simplicity of this plan is what makes it so good against Fyodor - why would he assume that the great Dazai, his intellectual equal, another genius, would go through with such a plan?

And it's even better because it isn't actually Dazai's! Now, I have seen a lot of people talking about this and I admit that I assumed the opposite originally as well, that this was all Dazai's scheme, but thanks to a moot I took a closer look on the storytelling and I realized something:

Dazai describes here the moment he realized that Chuuya is on his side in my opinion. This wasn't a "Dazai orchestrated the whole thing and sent Chuuya a text to haul his ass over to Mersault" because it doesn't fit with the storyline. Especially the speech in chapter 101 stands out here - a lot of people are making jokes about how weird and gay of a plan the speech is, but I actually think, based on the situation and the voice acting from Mamoru Miyano, that this goodbye speech is a genuine one.

The speech in 101 seems very genuine down to the point of his fake goodbye in the end, meanwhile the tone of a similar speech in 109 has completely shifted.

And what happened between 101 and 109? Exactly. The elevator.

So, what I'm thinking is this: Dazai saw that Fyodor had Chuuya under control and he knows his partner, he can't quite believe that Chuuya would get himself captured, it's gotta be a plan, right? Soukoku isn't actually the brains-and-brawn duo even though everyone thinks that, but Dazai knows how capable and smart Chuuya is. He hid Arahabaki from him and figured out Rimbaud after all.

But still, there is this bit of doubt nurtured by fear - he trusts Chuuya, but what if this isn't his Chuuya? So his goodbye speech is both:

An attempt to snap Chuuya out of it, an attempt to communicate with him, the hope that carries him because this is his partner, right? Stupid Chuuya that always fights and always clings to life and knows to appreciate it a lot more than Dazai.

But also a genuine goodbye, just... in case. Because he could never forgive himself if he doesn't say goodbye to Chuuya, JUST IN CASE. He trusts and believes in Chuuya, but he can't not say goodbye to him, just in case that Fyodor really got Chuuya.

And then the elevator scene happens and Dazai realizes: He only has one way of surviving, but he will not drag Sigma into this, not if he can help it. And he made a promise to him, after all. So, Dazai pushes Sigma out, makes sure that Sigma is alive like he promised. Then he keeps falling.

The only one that can save him now is Chuuya and Dazai decides to trust him. If this is his Chuuya, Chuuya will save him. Because that is what they do: Soukoku come to each other's call, they trust each other with their life and in return get that life saved by the other.

And if this isn't his Chuuya? Well, then Dazai died for the sake of the agency and he probably thinks that this is a good way to die, too.

But he doesn't die. He gets saved by Chuuya of course, how could he have ever considered something else? Chuuya came to his help and he has a plan. So, now all Dazai has to do is play along, just like in old times.

I wanna talk about this specific part of 109 too - I saw people arguing that the fact that Chuuya has been acting all the time made the scenes less impactful for the plot or their bond, but I actually would argue the opposite. Like I just laid out, in my opinion he only learnt just before this that Chuuya is on his side. That means, they don't have an actual plan that they discussed before, but they're good, they're Soukoku - we have seen in Dead Apple during the Dragonhead's Conflict and in the Dragon fight 6 years later what they are capable of without much communication.

But this is not only a way to show off their flawless communication and synchronization again, it also shows us something that we always knew but that is now plainly laid out: Dazai trusts Chuuya with his life. He trusts Chuuya to shoot, but not kill him.

Truly, you could say:

"The core characterization of Dazai and Chuuya's partnership is based on pure trust where both of them are capable of leaving each other's life on the other's hand without a second thought or doubt." - from the Dead Apple guide book

Chuuya acting from the very beginning as vampire and Dazai finding out along with a leap of faith and them proving once again the close bond they share is exactly the way this arc was supposed to go and the fact that it was predictable in that sense doesn't make it bad writing. In contrary. Asagiri set up and delivered the message of the arc extremely well, the arc had a clear red string following through all of it.

And this is why, in my opinion, this arc was actually written very well and why Fyodor's defeat is actually a good break for his character arc (because I don't believe he is dead, but this here is already way too long and many others have pointed plenty why he probably isn't dead) and why I really like the message of the Mersault arc.

#bungou stray dogs #skk #soukoku #bsd #chuuya nakahara #bsd skk #dazai osamu #dazai x chuuya #bsd spoilers #bsd analysis #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd fyodor #bsd season 5 spoilers #bsd season 5 #this was... a lot of me rambling but i really wanted to illustrate this point #because i loved this entire episode #yes all of it #this was entirely focused on skk and fyodor because i am mentally ill but the rest of the episode slaps too #xlillyle bsd threads

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hiramaris · 21 days

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I'm gonna request something for haley bc i love how you write her and not so obsessed. im not sure if you are writing for request? but im gonna give my shot

a prompt where haley as wife, and the farmer was late passed midnight because of mining shit. and almost died (lmao). she got home safely, but limping with her wounds and bruise. then there's haley, saw her wife barely walking and her reaction, just comfort, fluff, worried and taking care of the farmer.

that's all, thanks, no pressure <3

Kiss it Off Me

CHAPTER 7

Chapter Summary:

"I don't like your stupid gift!" She didn't intend for it to sound harsh, but as soon as her mouth opened, she couldn't stop the words from spilling out. "I honestly thought you'd know better than to give me something like this."

Pairings: Haley x Fem!farmer

Disclaimer: I do not own Stardew Valley or any of the related characters. Stardew Valley is created by and owned by ConcernedApe. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Stardew Valley story belong to ConcernedApe.

Warning: violence, blood

Notes:

thanks to anon for being the first-ever reader to request a prompt. I initially thought to make a separate fic for this one but I realized why not make it as a new chapter? There would be some adjustments to the prompt, instead of Haley being the farmer's wife, she'd be somewhere in between a friend and a woman struggling to put a name to what she's feeling with the farmer. I'm really sorry anon for not following the route you're hoping for but I do hope you'll like this one.

Summer 9

The sound of thunder clapping from above her made it difficult for sleep to come that night. Despite the late hour, the darkness outside was illuminated intermittently by flashes of lightning, casting eerie shadows across the walls of her room.

Rain drummed steadily against the glass, a constant reminder of Yoba's fury. The room felt oppressive, suffocating almost, as if the storm had seeped its way indoors, invading her sanctuary.

She had always hated rain. Well, the main reason is it's horrible weather for a dashing photographer like her. Not only does it ruin her hair that she spent all morning fixing, but it could also ruin her equipment. Oh, did she also mention it gives an awful lighting?

She also shares the same level of dislike for storms because they destroy the calmness of rain. It's aggressive, cold, and destructive.

That's why the moment the news announced there would be a storm for the next three days, she was quick to stock every little favorite snack she could think of because there was no way she was waltzing outside in that kind of weather.

Haley popped out a tired eye as she looked at the clock beside her.

1:56 AM.

Oh, joy it's almost two in the morning. How in Yoba's name could she go outside with bags under her eyes probably heavier than all of Emily's hippie gems combined?

'I mean– there's always a concealer,' she thought but quickly dismissed the idea.

She has been minimizing her makeup since... since whatever (when you told her she looked prettier even without them) PLUS with summer's sweltering heat, layering on cosmetics seemed suffocating.

With a groan, she pushed herself up from the bed, determination flashing in her tired eyes as she made her way to the kitchen to get a glass of milk, hoping that this little solution would finally give her the sleep she'd been craving for.

But as she reached for the milk, a cacophony outside shattered the stillness of the night. Haley froze, her heart pounding in her chest. It's kind of hard to tell with the harsh rain and thunder and everything.

As if to confirm that her mind wasn't playing tricks on her, a set of audible coughs echoed just behind the door. Haley's heart thumped so loud she was afraid it might come out of her chest.

That could only be an intruder.

In Haley's sleep-deprived mind, she didn't stop to even realize that Pelican Town had never experienced a robbery in the dead of night. Instead, she quickly bolted to her room, grabbing Alex's old baseball bat he had left here one time, not even having the presence of mind to wake up Emily to face this 'intruder' together.

****

Spoiler alert, it wasn't an intruder but an idiotic farmer covered in dirt and unbelievably wet from the rain.

You were holding your rucksack close to your chest for dear life with your sword held tightly by your other hand when Haley found you slumped against the door.

"What the hell are you doing outside at this hour and in this weather?" was the first words she uttered when her eyes spotted you. She was quick to help you up and bring you inside, not even minding the mud and water accumulating from where you stood.

When you didn't respond, Haley met your eyes.

Haley's heart nearly stopped at the sight beyond her. Without being hidden by the darkness, she could finally see your whole state.

There standing is the farmer herself. Your white hoodie was tattered and looked burned. Your hoodie's sleeves are ripped too up to your upper arms, and your left arm has a cut with fresh blood still gushing out of it.

You were missing the other pair of your shoes, and your hair was disheveled and covered with slime. You even had multiple scratches and scrapes all over your body. Your right cheek has some small scratches, and blood is rushing out of the wound on your forehead.

"Yoba..." Haley's voice was barely a whisper as she gently cupped your cheeks, careful not to aggravate your wounds. Her eyes flickered to the gash on your forehead, blood still seeping from the wound. "What happened, Y/n/n? We need to get you to Harvey!"

You shook your head weakly, struggling to stand upright. "No... H-harvey," you protested, your voice strained. "H-he'll kill me."

"Y/n!" Haley's arms enveloped you in a tight embrace as you nearly stumbled over her. She wanted to reprimand you, to demand answers, but the rush of blood in her ears and the pounding of her heart against her chest prevented her from doing so.

For now, she needed to make sure you were okay.

You only grunted in response as you gave in to her, allowing her to guide you onto the cushions.

"I'm just gonna get a towel and the first aid." Her lips trembled as she said those words.

In record time, she was able to get everything she thought you'd need, afraid if she missed any more seconds you wouldn't be breathing.

When she returned to the living room, she almost went ballistic when she spotted your form unmoving from your seat.

"Y/n! Wake up, for Yoba's sake! Don't you dare die on—" Haley's words caught in her throat as you rasped out a response.

"...oh, look an angel," you managed with a small grin, your tired eyes fluttering open.

Haley couldn't help but smile softly at your attempt to lighten the mood. "Very funny," she replied, relief flooding through her as she saw you conscious, if only barely.

Wordlessly, she draped a towel over you, tucking it gently to ensure you stayed warm. It was the same blanket she used during storms like this when she felt cold herself.

With a purposeful stride, she made her way to the fireplace, adding more wood to the fire in hopes of warming you further.

"Keep your eyes open, please? I'm just gonna get some rags to clean up your wound," she requested gently.

She placed the first aid kit on the coffee table in front of you before heading to the kitchen to gather clean rags and a sponge.

Returning to the living room, she filled a bowl with tap water and carried it carefully as she made her way back to you.

With great tenderness, Haley cautiously wiped the blood from your body with the sponge, dampening it in the tap water she had prepared. She winced as the color of the water turned red.

"You lost too much blood," Haley commented, masking the shakiness of her voice. She wasn't a great fan of blood but she was not naive with treating minor injuries either. She silently thanked Yoba for letting Emily force her to learn a thing or two about first aid.

You only grunted in response to her observation.

"What happened, Y/n?" She couldn't hide the worry in her voice even if she dared try. "I should call Harvey and get you to the clinic."

You groaned as she accidentally applied too much pressure to your wound. "No... it's okay. It's n-nothing, I'm fine."

"These serious injuries don't shout nothing, Y/n. What the hell happened?"

"'I went to the mine..." you explained, and Haley waited expectantly for you to continue.

"It's storming."

"I know..." You couldn't look at her in the eye. "It's just that there's not much going on in the farm so I thought I should continue my expeditions in the mine. I thought it would be safe but..."

"But it wasn't." Haley couldn't helped but deadpan.

You visibly winced, unsure if it was because of your wounds, Haley's biting remark, or just both. "I heard from Marlon I could find rare items once I reached the hundredth floor, which I did," you explained, tapping your rucksack beside you. "But I should have known better that those items are rare for a reason. Not because they're hard to find, but because they're hard to acquire. Once I got hold of this baby," you gestured to your bag, "the whole cave was swarmed by slimes and shadow people."

"What?" Haley's voice sputtered with disbelief, her brows furrowing in concern. "Shadow people? I thought they were just myths!"

You tried to nod in confirmation, but Haley kept a firm hand on your cheeks, preventing the movement. "Uhuh, they're very real," you affirmed, your voice tinged with exhaustion. "And I can say they aren't really fond of us humans and, uh, dwarves I think. They're more scared of me than intimidating. I tried not to, y'know, hurt them."

"That's a stupid idea."

"I know," you admitted, your gaze dropping to the floor. "But given our history with them, I didn't want to give them any more reason to hate us. Plus, I was the one invading their homes."

Haley let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping with weariness. "Still, you should have fought back. What if they had killed you in there? How would we have known you were down there and rotting? You're the only one crazy enough to go down there anyway."

You didn't speak after that, and Haley mistook that as compliance. She was too busy fuming at your lack of self-preservation to notice the frown creasing on your features.

After managing to cleanse the visible injuries of your body, she began to grab some clean rags to apply some pressure on your forehead and your forearm to keep your bleeding to an absolute minimum.

She cursed softly under her breath, trying to think of what to do next.

"…Y/n? Y/n, wake up, stop sleeping," Haley's voice was quiet, her tone laced with urgency as she gently tapped your cheek.

Your eyes pulled themselves open and looked tiredly at her. "Hn?"

"I need you to sit up straight and pull your hoodie off. What do you have underneath?" Haley's words were gentle but firm as she carefully supported your shoulder and hip.

"…just a tank top."

Slowly, you strained to sit upright, wincing with discomfort. Haley could tell from the way your grip tightened on her wrist that you were not comfortable sitting for very long.

With Haley's assistance, you managed to pull your hoodie off, careful not to aggravate any wounds. Once the clothes were removed, Haley's eyes lingered on the minor cuts just below your chest, blood still seeping from the wounds. She grabbed the sponge again, gently brushing away the blood from your cuts.

After cleansing the wounds, Haley applied alcohol and antibiotics, causing you to grunt in discomfort. No words were exchanged as she skillfully wrapped bandages around your forehead, forearm, and abdomen. She then helped you into warmer clothes she found in her wardrobe, her movements gentle and reassuring.

"How do you feel?" Haley bit her lip, anxious. Honestly speaking, she wasn't confident in her abilities to treat injuries, so she anxiously awaited your response, hoping she hadn't made things worse.

"…I'm alright now," you rasped, your voice hoarse with exhaustion. "…thank you, Hay."

Haley felt a wave of relief wash over her at your words. Your face had regained some color compared to earlier when you looked as pale as a ghost.

"Do you want anything to eat?" she questioned tentatively. "I'll whip you up some tea and soup."

You swallowed gently and nodded your head.

"I'll be back soon then. Rest. I'll wake you when your soup is done."

****

About twenty minutes later, Haley went back into the living room, a tray in her hands. She found you sprawled on the couch (thankfully not moving too much), embracing your rucksack in your arms once again. She wanted to question what was inside and why you couldn't part with it so much but decided to make sure you were okay first.

The things she does for you.

She placed the tray of food on the coffee table and sat beside you, taking in your sleeping form.

"Y/n/n? Food's ready," Haley said softly, tapping your thigh to rouse you from your slumber.

Startled and kind of a forced of habit, you tried to sit up straight. Thankfully, Haley was fast enough to stop you.

"Don't get up. | don't want to wrap your wounds again," Haley admonished, her tone firm.

She grabbed a pillow and propped it behind your back to elevate your head slightly. As she picked up the bowl of chicken soup, she could feel your eyes on her.

"I can feed myself, Haley. Thank you," you finally spoke. Haley's eyes met yours briefly before she averted her gaze, a flicker of emotion passing over her features.

"Clearly, you aren't capable of feeding yourself. Stop being a baby and let me do this."

Your eyes settled on her for probably a full minute before you sighed in resignation. Despite the hardened gaze she probably wore on her face, Haley gently placed a spoonful of soup in your mouth.

"I know you can, Y/n," Haley spoke after a few moments. "But you lost too much blood already, I don't want you to bleed again."

"I'm sorry for causing you all this trouble," you uttered softly.

Haley paused and finally looked at you, like, really looked at you properly this time. Since you had arrived covered in mud and blood, she had been operating on autopilot, with only one mission: ensuring you were okay. It's the only thing running through her mind, leaving no room for anything else. Mainly, she hadn't thought about the impact of her words.

"Don't be ridiculous. It's no trouble. I'm just..." Haley paused, thinking about what words to use without giving away that she cared too much. "I'm just glad that you're okay."

Once you had finished eating, Haley placed the empty bowl down and reached for a damp cloth. Brushing away a stray lock of your hair, she gently wiped away a few drops of blood and dirt, her touch surprisingly gentle. She was so focused on her task that she didn't notice you watching her quietly, your expression softening as she attended to the blemish on your face.

"Haley..." you called softly, breaking the silence. Haley looked down at you, her eyes startled. A small, appreciative smile graced your lips as you continued, "Thank you."

Haley couldn't help but smile in return. Sometimes it's hard to stay mad at you. "You can thank me by resting and making sure this won't happen again."

You chuckled softly as you closed your eyes, resting your head against the pillow once more. "No promises."

Seeing that you were getting sleepy, Haley quickly gathered the empty bowl and cup and placed them in the sink. When she returned, she extended a hand to help you up, much to your confusion.

"Come, let's get you to my room."

"Haley," you protested weakly. "I couldn't possibly impose more than I already have."

"Shut up. I won't let an injured woman sleep on the couch, Y/n."

Despite your protests, Haley managed to convince you to agree with her proposed setup. While Haley wasn't entirely keen on sleeping on the couch herself, it's not like she has a choice on the matter. The cushion is uncomfortable as hell, it's like sitting on a pile of bricks. That's more than enough reason to let you sleep on her bed. Plus, with the mess and worry weighing on her mind, she doubted she'd be able to sleep anyway.

She was about to leave to clean the mess in the living room when she finally sat you down on her bed, but a hand stopped her.

"…have you seen my bag, Hay?"

"Oh, that? Do you want me to get it for you?"

"No, no. Thanks but I can get it myself." You made a move to stand but Haley kept a firm grip on your shoulder.

Haley frowned. "You can't barely even stand. Do you think I'm gonna let you walk by yourself? What's in the bag anyway? I'll get it for you."

"I'm wounded, not disabled–" you tried to say but Haley only raised an eyebrow at you, daring you to finish your sentence. You sighed when you realized that you wouldn't win against her again. "It's... it's a gift."

"For whom?" Haley couldn't help but ask. Who could you possibly want to give a gift that you almost died just to get it?

Was it for Penny? Haley heard she liked gems as well. Or was it Maru? If she could remember correctly, tomorrow's her birthday and she seemed to like everything you can find in caves. This totally makes sense.

But why did her heart clench at the thought? More importantly, how did she even remember all this information when she didn't care about them at all?

Before you could respond, Haley left the room to retrieve your rucksack. She felt like she didn't need to hear the answer to her question.

When she returned, she wordlessly handed the bag to you, prepared to leave the room once more. However, your voice stopped her in her tracks.

"It's for you."

She turned, mouth agape. "What?"

"It's for you." You smiled warmly as you held out a familiar-looking crystalline gem, about the size of a palm, emitting a dazzling array of colors.

Haley's initial surprise quickly turned to dismay as she recognized the mineral. Her frown deepened, and a flicker of discomfort passed through her eyes at the sight of it. She knew what it was, and just the thought of touching it made her feel physically ill.

"What's wrong?" you asked, concerned at her sudden change in demeanor.

"I..."

"Keep it," she said with finality. "Good night, Y/n."

With a curt nod, she turned on her heel and stormed off, the sound of the door slamming shut echoing in the room as she left.

****

She shouldn't have said that. She knows she shouldn't have but she was just so worried she couldn't control anything else spouting from her foul mouth.

She hated how she caused the light in your eyes to die down. Hated the way you weren't able to say anything else. Hated the way she just couldn't probably express her worries properly.

Now you probably thought she hated your guts.

Which is far from the truth. Kind of the opposite actually but she's far too tired and confused to delve into her feelings further at the moment.

It's true she doesn't share the same passion for gems and rocks as her sister Emily, and people will generally thank someone who will give them a prismatic shard because for one, they are pretty, she's not gonna lie about that. Secondly, they're super rare and by extension, expensive.

Haley just couldn't bring herself to appreciate it in the same way.

She hated them with passion. And she hated people assuming she liked shiny things because of her personality.

While it's true she's kind of materialistic, it was a trait ingrained in her from years of her parents trying to compensate for their absence by showering her with gifts.

She didn't like being materialistic, but she's so used to it that it's hard to stop.

And she hated how you seemed to think the same way about her when you thought about giving her a prismatic shard as a gift. That all she ever was were just pretty and expensive gifts.

And she hated how you let yourself get hurt just to give her this.

She hated everything about this.

****

Haley spent the majority of the night cleaning the living room, hoping to tire herself out enough to dull the heaviness and emptiness in her heart. She didn't know it was possible to feel both at the same time, but there she was, experiencing it firsthand, and she despised every moment of it.

And she hated herself more now because she found herself padding her way towards her room. Her steps faltered when she saw you peacefully sleeping on her bed. A gentle smile touched her lips at the sight of your chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

Unable to resist, Haley approached you quietly. She carefully tucked you in, a tenderness in her actions that betrayed the turmoil in her heart. Leaning down, she pressed a soft kiss to your bandaged forehead, a gesture she had learned from her late grandmother.

"To kiss the pain away," her grandmother used to say, and Haley found solace in that belief.

With one last caress of your cheek, Haley settled onto the foot of her bed, a magazine in hand, silently hoping for the sun's rays to finally peek behind the horizon by her room's window.

****

Haley woke up surprisingly lacking any back pains. She didn't feel sleep-deprived either.

Wait—

How'd she get in her bed? You're supposed to be– Oh.

She sat up straight when she realized she was holding a letter in her hand. Straightening up the almost crumpled paper, she could recognize your handwriting immediately.

Good morning, Haley. Sorry for the disturbance last night, and thank you for taking care of me. It means a lot. I didn't want to impose more than I already have so I excused myself while you were asleep. Thank you again. — Y/n

Haley studied the letter, noting the hastily scribbled handwriting that differed from your usual neat script. She could imagine you rushing to write it just to avoid dealing with her.

It hurt more than she cared to admit. But after what she said to you, who was she to complain?

At this point, it would be a miracle if you still talked to her.

"Good morning, sis!" Emily chirped, her voice echoing through the room as Haley emerged from her room. She sat on the couch, casually knitting what appeared to be another sweatshirt.

Haley's expression was one of mild annoyance as she replied, "It's noon."

She glanced around the living room, noting the sunlight filtering in through the curtains, indicating that the day was well underway and the storm had thankfully subsided.

"Storm has passed but Caroline canceled, just to be safe," Emily responded, her fingers deftly working the knitting needles as she spoke. "And I know it's noon. Just wanted to emphasize you slept late, little lady."

Haley let out a resigned groan, her movements sluggish as she made her way toward the kitchen to avoid further conversation with her sister.

"Just so you know, I saw Y/n/n come out of your room!" Emily called out from the living room, her tone playful yet teasing.

Haley froze mid-step, her grip tightening on the handle of her mug. "Wha—" Her voice wavered slightly, betraying her surprise. "Nothing happened!"

"Of course, nothing's going to happen in that state she's in," Emily retorted.

Haley couldn't ignore the sense of urgency that suddenly gripped her at the mention of your state. You're in no condition to go home all by yourself.

"Just tell me you took her home," she pleaded, her tone softening slightly as she returned to the living room.

Thankfully, Emily's too caught up with her work to notice that brief slip-up of vulnerability Haley rarely shows.

"I volunteered actually, but Penny saw us on our way and insisted she could do the job," Emily explained, her tone matter-of-fact.

"And you agreed?!" she sputtered incredulously.

"Of course, I would!" Emily readily defended. "She volunteered!"

Haley's sigh was heavy as she sank down onto the couch next to Emily. "You should have woken me up."

She could feel Emily's eyes settling on her as if trying to decipher what's got her so distressed.

"I tried, but Y/n/n won't let me. Said you needed the sleep," Emily finally answered after a few moments of silence.

"You're unbelievable." Haley couldn't help but massage the bridge of her nose at Emily's casualness about the situation as if seeing a heavily injured farmer waltz out of Haley's room was just a normal occurrence. "I suppose she told you what happened then?"

"Uh-huh. Accident in the mines, right? And she went here instead to the clinic because Harvey would kill her once he saw her state." Emily chuckled, her tone light as if discussing the weather. "He just literally told her last time to take it easy."

Haley blinked in disbelief. "And how do you know this?"

"Everyone knows this, Haley." Emily looked at her as if wondering why she didn't know this piece of information. "It's practically a common thing to see Y/n/n passed out outside in the morning."

Haley's brows furrowed in frustration, her mind racing with thoughts. Of course, she doesn't know this. If she would have known, she would have told you to take it easy. Hell, she'll help with farming if it will make things easier for you. This thing where you pass out and overwork yourself shouldn't be normalized. Actually, if anything—

She stopped herself from this line of thinking because why the hell was she even considering helping out with your farm when she, in fact, hated dirt?

"She also told me how you stepped up and helped her," Emily continued, her voice pulling Haley back to the present moment. She felt Emily's hand pat her shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. "I saw she's well-cleaned up. I'm proud of you, sis."

Haley forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. I'm not proud of what I did, Em.

*****

Summer 10

The sky was painted with hues of pink and orange as Haley sat alone on the shore, the gentle sound of waves lapping against the sand providing a soothing rhythm to her troubled thoughts. She had come here seeking solace, the ocean always offering her a sense of peace in times of distress.

The events yesterday had bothered her more than she had let on. She convinced herself you'd understand why she reacted the way she did but a part of herself thinks she should apologize.

But as stubborn as she is, she instead spent the whole day sulking, which is what she did.

She embraced her knees closer to her chest, fingers brushing the bracelet adorning her wrist. It was her great-grandma's, a delicate piece of jewelry passed down through generations adorned in gold and pearl on the middle part. Her grandmother has given it to her instead of her mom because she'd rather wear luxurious things than some hand-me-down jewelry. But Haley loved them, and it's probably the only piece of jewelry she'd ever wear aside from the shell necklace she was wearing now.

It was a ritual of sorts for her, wearing the bracelet whenever she felt sad and alone. It's as if wearing it made her feel like her grandma was with her at this very moment, comforting her.

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't realize her bracelet had slipped from her wrist. It wasn't until she reached to adjust it that she felt its absence.

"Oh, no..."

With trembling hands, she combed through the sand, her movements growing more frantic with each passing moment. Her eyes scanned the water's edge, fearing the worst as she desperately sought any glimmer of gold amidst the grains of sand.

No, no... impossible. She made sure she was far enough from the water for that specific reason.

An hour passed with no sign of the precious heirloom, and Haley felt tears welling up in her eyes as desperation threatened to consume her. She practically combed the whole beach for it and still no signs of the bracelet.

She couldn't help but slump back to the sand. She's feeling everything too much.

She's such a useless piece of shit. She couldn't even kept an important heirloom. How the hell can she even keep someone like you in her life?

Everyone's right. She's way up high in the clouds that everything she touches crumbles within her fingertips.

The tears are threatening to fall from her eyes and a sob is rising on her throat.

And just before a tear fell from her eyes, a hand shot up and grabbed her by the shoulder.

She looked up and met a pair of gray eyes staring into her own. The grayish color of your eyes is stark and deep and seemed a little bluish from the illumination of the sun. It almost looked like the sky during spring or the ocean seen from a cruising ship as a cold tundra threatened to ruin the quiet solitude of the season. Your eyes telltale thousands of untold stories with every blink, stories too ambiguous, too dark for any of them to understand. Though not dark enough to feed her thoughts of the midnight sea, of storms and drowning.

Calloused fingertips thumbed mascara stains from her cheeks with such gentleness Haley doesn't think she deserves.

"I'm here," you murmured. "What happened, Haley?"

"I l-lost it," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion as she struggled to hold back tears. "My bracelet... it's gone! I know I had it on when I got here... But now it's gone, Y/n and I can't find it anywhere..."

She couldn't help the sob that escaped her as she burrows closer into you. She had probably stained your shirt with expensive make-up and salty tears but she didn't care as she dug her face deeper into your collar bone further and sucks a shaky breath.

"Shh," you soothed, sturdy arms wrapped around her tightened instinctively. "I'll go find it, don't worry."

"I'll never find another one like it..."

"I'm really sorry..." she felt you murmur against her hair. "I'm sure it's just around here somewhere."

"...maybe it'll wash up on another shore," she hiccuped between sobs. "I can't bear to think of it at the bottom of the ocean."

"We'll find it, okay?" you assured her, and Haley swore her heart stopped beating when you planted a soft kiss on her forehead. "Stay here. We're not leaving until we find your bracelet."

****

And truth be told you did find it.

After what seemed like an eternity of combing through the sand, Haley's eyes lit up as she spotted the familiar-looking bracelet in your hands.

With a smile so bright it rivaled the sun, you approached her.

"You found it!" she cheered as she run towards you, hopping from the sand and straight to your arms.

You weren't deterred by this and proceeded to secure your arms around her to prevent her from falling.

"Careful there, we don't want to drop it again, do we?" You barked out a laugh but Haley was quick to recognize the grunt of pain in them.

"Yoba, I'm sorry! I forgot you're still wounded!" Haley made a move to let you go but you weren't having any of it. If anything, you hold her tighter. Haley couldn't help but let out a laugh as well as she wrapped her arms around your neck just as firmly. "Thank you so much, Y/n. You're a lifesaver."

"You're welcome," you murmured against her chest. "Here, I'll help you wear it."

You gently set her down, much to her disappointment, and began to fasten the bracelet around her wrist, your actions filled with care and tenderness.

"Thank you, Y/n. Really," she murmured softly. "You're always there whenever I needed you and all you get as a thank you is me being... a bitch to you. I'm sorry."

You frowned. "You're not a... 'b' word. Far from it."

"'B' word,"she scoffed, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips "What are you, twelve?"

"Hey!" you protested in mock indignation. "I can cuss. I just don't want to use it around you. I don't want to get used to it."

Haley's gaze softened drastically. If you keep this kind of consistency around her then Haley's bound to fall hard on her back. And since it's with you, you'd probably made your way to ensure she'll be falling in a pile of pillows and flowers. You're thoughtful like that.

"I'm sorry for giving you that gift yesterday..." you started after a moment of silence. "Let me finish first," you interrupted gently when you saw her mouth open to speak. "I just... prismatic shards are rare to find and I wanted to give it to you because I thought it's something you'd like to photograph."

You took her hand in yours, a tender gesture that made Haley's heart skip a beat, her cheeks flushing slightly at the warmth of your touch. The soft morning light bathed the shoreline in a golden hue, casting long shadows across the sand as gentle waves lapped against the shore.

"But then I realized how it may have looked like to you, and I'm sorry I made you feel that way."

"Y/n..."

"So I like to try again." Without further explanation, you strode towards the boat beside Elliot's cabin, your steps confident and purposeful, and produced a bouquet of—wait, are those sunflowers?

"No way!" she sputtered as she tried to fight the grin threatening to spill on her face. You're not supposed to look this dashing walking towards her with a bouquet in hand. It's unfair!

"Yes way." you grinned at her as you handed her the flowers, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "I hope I'm forgiven."

"I'm supposed to be the one saying sorry, you dunce!" Haley playfully slapped your shoulders before accepting them. "They're beautiful, Y/n! These are my absolute favorite! Thank you."

"No worries. And if you're free you can take a look at them at my farm."

"You planted them?" Now that she had mentioned it, it sounded like a stupid question. Of course, you planted them yourself, where else can you get these flowers?

But as usual, being the kind and patient person that you are, you only beamed at her and nodded. "Yep! I planted a whole yard."

"For real?"

"For real," you affirmed, your smile widening at her incredulous expression.

"But why? I mean compared to other crops I'm sure sunflowers aren't that profitable."

You shrugged again, your expression softening. "Eh, I wasn't aiming for the profit. I was aiming for your smile."

****

A/n: my toes are curling while I wrote this, I hope you felt the same. Anyway, the bouquet of sunflowers isn't the same bouquet that makes Haley your girlfriend. It's just a regular ol' bouquet our farmer has personally crafted because she's a simp for our queen but just too oblivious to see it. Sorry for the delay, I had just finished my clinical recently so I was busy the whole month of April. Hope y'all like this one!

P.S. comments are much appreciated!

THANK YOU FOR 2500 LIKES! YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST, SERIOUSLY.

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#stardew valley #stardew fanfic #haley x farmer #haley x reader #stardew farmer #stardew haley #stardew emily #kiss it off me

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auteurdelabre · 1 month

Text

PLEASE MISTER MILLER SEQUEL PART 7 - BFD!Joel x f!Reader

rating: 18+ (MAJOR FILTH IN THIS ONE)

pairings: Your Best Friends Dad Joel x f!Reader

warnings: FILTH, age gap, divorce, domestic bliss, public-ish sex, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, p in v sex, all the sex and all the fluff, slightly possessive Joel, love love love.

a/n: Y'all I had major writers block with this one. Took me a bit but I think I got us there. One more chapter after this to go and I'm unsure of how to end it. . . Dunno what these two idiots deserve.

masterlist here

There's something strange about entering into Joel's home after all these months that makes your heart pound. Joel carries your bags for you, chatting animatedly that the place might look different. His voice fades into the back of your mind as you look around. It all feels so surreal to be back in this house. Bizarre to see how Joel has made the place more his own in the short time since his separation.

For one thing the frames that contained photos of Tess are gone. The only ones that remain are of him and Sarah smiling toothily at the camera. Its clear Tess has not been in the picture for some time, despite her last ditch effort to connect.

A bunch of the furniture seems new as well. The sofa he fucked you on last Christmas has been replaced by a smaller, more streamlined looking leather piece and most of the knick knacks and colorful items from the rooms have been removed. The TV is propped up on a plastic stand that looks garish amongst the more subdued and tasteful décor.

The place is definitely a bachelor pad.

The bedroom has been painted not green, but a gentle blue and that makes your heart clench tightly. The bed is new, has grey sheets and plush looking pillows. A stationary bike is in the corner. The dresser is adorned with coins, old receipts, CD’s, pencils and a variety of other things one would normally find in a carpenter’s pockets. No longer in wicker baskets or small decorative dishes.

“Now you don’t have to stay in here,” Joel says seriously, his hand still on your suitcase handle as you glance around his bedroom. “We can set you up in the guest room like before no problem. That way you’ll still have your own space.”

You frown at him. “You want me in the guest room?”

“Doesn’t matter what I want.”

“Joel.”

He sighs softly. “No, I don’t, not really.”

“So I can stay in here with you?”

“Only if you wa-“

You stop his rambling with a kiss before taking the handle from him and rolling it to the far side of the room.

“Can I put my stuff in the closet? Or dresser?”

“Both.”

You start to unpack and Joel watches this with a soft little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Dinner is pizza sat on the glass coffee table, watching a movie you two could agree on. You spend most of it sneaking glances at Joel’s profile from the corner of your eye. You find yourself completely taken with everything about him – how his salt and pepper curls fall into his forehead, how his jaw clenches when he chews his pizza, how he huffs through his nose when he’s amused at something in the movie.

You’re pathetically in love with him.

Hours later the two of you collapse onto the bed side by side, too tired from the day’s travel to do anything other than sleep. Despite this, Joel takes great pleasure in watching you shimmy out of your jeans and shirt, pulling on your nightdress and climbing back into bed with him.

“Goodnight baby,” he murmurs as he pulls you into his arms, tucking you there underneath his chin after a soft kiss. “M’so glad you’re here.”

///

You've woken up next to Joel several times in hotel beds, but never his own. So when the sun lazily makes its way into the bedroom that first morning and you blink awake, you're almost startled to see him sleeping there next to you. You take in the grey of his bed sheets, the way his mouth parts slightly in his sleep, the way his hair is tousled from sleep and you feel your heart swell.

"Morning, honey," you whisper. "You wanna get coffee?"

"Nuh uh," he mutters, eyes still closed. An arm slides over your waist, pulling you against him. "Want you."

Fucking in Joel's bed is just as delicious a fucking him in your dorm at college. Only now you don't have to rush or panic. You can just enjoy the way his skin looks in the morning sun as he buries his mouth between your legs with your thighs at his ears, his hands gripping your ass so he can devour you properly.

"Right there!" You cry out, body arching for him. "M’so close, I just-"

You come with a shuddering cry, piercing the peaceful quiet of the bedroom. Joel grins, mouth glistening with your arousal. He climbs up the length of your body, mouth ravishing yours before he urges you onto your belly. His body is heavy over yours, his mouth rasping against your ear.

“My turn.”

Joel gathers your hair into a ponytail, wrapping it around his palm and tugging you onto all fours for him. You give a soft whimper, delighted at the tugging sensation on your scalp. Joel grins, tugging you gently again by the hair as his free hand grips your thigh, urging you to arch ass in the air for him.

He sinks into you slowly, but when you whimper at the sensation and arch further the angle of your shifting hips allows his stroke to drive deeper. Already turned on out of his mind, Joel begins to thrust deep and fast, causing your eyes to roll back as you groan.

"You like that?" Joel grunts, his hips snapping against your ass.

"Uh huh."

He continues on like this with his hand wrapped in your hair, tugging you gently as he fucks into you. He checks in with you every once in a while, a soft kiss to your shoulder and a husky ‘you still okay?’ before he continues with you groaning your desire for him to go harder and deeper.

He pounds into you with intensity, the rhythm of his fingers on your clit staying steady.You come with a shuddering cry, head lolled forward and Joel’s cock sawing in and out of you, his fingers dancing on your clit.

“Whose girl are you?”

“Yours,” you groan, flesh rippling as his hips slap against your ass in a frenzy.

"That's right," Joel growls before he nips at your earlobe. "Now prove it and soak my cock."

You cry out his name before thrusting yourself back against his cock.

“That’s it, that’s it,” he coos as you come down.

You hear his ragged grunts as you climax but notice that he begins to slow, his cock slowly dragging and plunging before tapering off. You look over your shoulder at him, your cheeks flushed. Joel is looking down at you with a strange look on his face.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"Was thinking of tryin' somethin'," he murmurs, dark eyes sliding over your naked body as he gently pulls from you. “You up for somethin’ a lil different?”

"Anything you want," you tell him honestly. And you mean it; Joel can use your body in any way he desires. You trust him absolutely. He’s never given you reason to doubt him. His face lights up almost boyishly as he grins down at you.

"Yeah?"

You nod and he practically leaps off the bed. You grin, taking time to appreciate the sight of his deliciously taut ass twitching as his naked frame pads over to the dresser where he threw his jeans last night.

You watch in quiet fascination as he un-loops the dark brown leather belt from the pair, sliding it around his palm as he looks over at you.

"You've used a belt before," you remind him as he moves towards the bed, hard cock bobbing as you think of how he used a belt to bind your wrists once.

"Not like this," Joel slides his tongue into his opposite cheek as he crawls back onto the bed behind you. His large palm slides over the curve of your ass, gripping a moment. You can feel his eyes on your naked body, heavy and hot.

"You trust me?"

"Yes."

There's no hesitation, no balking. You simply rest there on your hands and knees, waiting.

You feel Joel continue to watch you, no doubt observing the gathering slick of your cunt and the shine of it on your inner thighs. His hot and heavy breath is there at your ass, giving you a sharp nip on your left cheek that has you yelp and him chuckle. His warm hand soothes the sting immediately.

"So gorgeous," Joel murmurs as he kisses his way up your naked spine. You bow, wanting him to press his lips to every vertebra, to tattoo your body with his tongue and mouth. You feel him behind you, the warmth of his body curling over you as his mouth drags over your shoulder blade, slow and sensual.

"You’re so fuckin’ good for me, you know that?"

His mouth is at your jaw as he asks this and by answer you tilt your head to capture his lips against yours. He makes a low noise, his hand going to curve around your throat, holding you there so that he can kiss you at his leisure, sucking your tongue into his mouth as your cunt weeps.

“Keep bein’ good, yeah?”

You feel him circle the leather around your waist, the sensation drawing a soft gasp from you. His eyes drift to your wait as he tightens the belt before notching it. It’s almost as if he expects you to wear it, only he keeps the tail end of it firmly gripped in his palm.

"Tell me if it's too tight."

"S'not," you purr, finding the sensation of leather biting into your hips and belly to be a turn on more than anything.

He tugs gently, urging you back towards him before giving the belt some slack. His free hand is at your ass again, rubbing sweet circles over the mark he’s left. You feel him on his knees, bending back to look at you.

"Show me what's mine, baby."

You sigh contentedly, forcing your legs apart further, ass in the air, your face resting on the mattress. You know from where he kneels behind you be can see everything, including your puffy pussy completely drenched.

You whimper slightly at the sound of Joel's groan.

“Yeah, she’s all mine.”

Joel watches your muscles roll and skin prickle in anticipation and he can't stop himself from rubbing his palm up your spine, his fingers tracing where his mouth and tongue have travelled.

You whimper again, cunt twitching as fresh arousal gathers there. Joel swallows a growl and you feel him notch himself at your entrance, guiding the head of his cock against your clit before sinking into your dripping cunt.

“Joel!”

From this angle he feels so big, filling you so well. Your cunt almost stings from how big. When he begins to move you grip onto the bed sheets, body jolting as you let out little mewls of pleasure.

"So fuckin' good," Joel groans out between clenched teeth. He pulls out slowly, wanting to see his cock glossy with your slick before he’s sinking between your lips again. He does it again and again, pulling out slowly, admiring how your pussy looks when its empty and then stuffed full of him.

He does this for several moments, working you up and making you cry out his name in broken little whispers.

“Please, Joel.”

"I made you come twice already," Joel reminds you with a teasing edge to his voice. "Now you’re gonna lay there and let me fuck you full a' my come, pretty girl."

All at once you feel him tug the belt back abruptly, sending you sliding back along his length as he thrusts forward and buries himself to the hilt. He does this over and over until you hear the squelching sounds of him fucking into you. It’s obscene and dirty and you fucking love it.

"You gonna do that?" You hear the smile in his voice as his hips start to pick up the pace. "Gonna let me fuck you full?"

The bite of the leather against your skin mixing with the feel of Joel's hips slapping against your thighs is making you quickly unravel.

"Yes, Joel!" You cry out, not in pain but in pleasure.

You surrender to his thrusts, sliding back as he pushes forward, using the belt to keep you at the perfect fucking distance. You hear his panting and the sound of your sweaty bodies smacking against one another.

"What a bad fuckin' girl," Joel taunts as his hips slap your ass over and over at increasingly quicker intervals. "Came twice and she's so cock drunk she's gonna gimme another one."

"N-no Joel," you manage. "Gonna make you come."

"Don't think you can," Joel rasps with a husky chuckle. "Think my bad girl needs to soak my cock again."

You cry out at the sensation of his length hitting you so deep. But the burning desire to do good, to pleasure him overrides this.

"Wanna make you come, Joel. M'not a bad girl," you tell him almost petulantly as you move up the bed with a particularly aggressive thrust from Joel.

"Oh no?" he grinds himself against your ass, tugging the belt again. "Show me how good you can be."

You slide yourself back against the length of him, smiling into the pillow when you hear his shaky inhale. You do it again, slowly welcoming him deep before sliding off, the tip teasing your entrance before you feel the tug of his belt, forcing you back.

"Uh huh that's my good girl," Joel pants, surprising you by landing a quick slap to your ass with his free hand. "Yeah, that's it. Fuck yourself on it for me."

Your ass bounces as you bow your back for him, desperate for him to take what he wants. You urge him deeper, moaning as his hand gives you another swat on the other cheek.

"Deeper," you beg him, not just to make him feel good but because you're so fucking close.

"You’re so goddam good," he tells you as he buries himself, sawing in and out of your slippery cunt. He tugs the belt, pulling you back along his cock over and over. You cry out loud from the dual sensations of Joel's cock and the leather belt.

You feel as a few of his fingers slide under the waist of the belt, holding you more firmly in place as he begins to jackhammer his cock into your slot deeper than ever. It makes your whimpers come out in little huffs, your body shaking with each plunge of him between your thighs.

"Take... It.... Just... Like .. That." Each word is barked out with a pump of his cock into your cunt. "Good ... Girl."

You give out sharp little grunts with every thrust of him from behind you, your hands fisting in the sheets as your eyes roll back. He holds you firmly by the belt, head tilted back as his cock kisses your cervix.

"Stay right there," he pants, hips rolling aggressively now. "N'make me feel good."

"Yes," you promise, breasts shaking as he fucks harder and deeper into you. His hips slap loudly in against your ass, his cock so thick and so soaked as he slides between your swollen folds. You keen as his cock forces itself deeper and he starts grunting louder, punched out with each thrust.

“Fuck, fuck I love yo-“

He can't finish the sentence. He's coming hard, pulsing into you as he grips your body, his lips pressed to your cheek, gasping as he thrusts. Your arm goes to bend around his neck, your flesh jolting as he uses you to finish. You smile through your mutual panting, finding his mouth as you tilt your head.

“I love you too, Joel.”

///

You wake up the first few days after staying with Joel with a coiled tension in your body.

There is a small part of you that is terrified that this is all going too good. That perhaps now that you know Joel is getting divorced and the forbidden aspect of the relationship is over that it will dampen your ardor for him. That his biggest fears he had about you will come true.

But they don’t.

If anything your capacity for loving him grows. Doing crosswords together over coffee in the morning, going for walks hand-in-hand in the park near his house. Laughing over something stupid on the TV, playing cards late into the night.

He tells you he loves you every morning and every night. He holds you in his arms when you drift off to sleep. You feel a safety and a contentment you’ve never experienced before. Always waiting for the shoe to drop, but it never does.

And of course there’s the fucking everywhere, almost as if Joel has a personal mission to make sure you come in every single room. You don’t mind at all. In fact you encourage it one morning by bringing out the snowflake skirt from Christmas that you packed at the bottom of your bag, giggling in your dorm.

You put it on over a tight white tank top and bend over in front of him to grab the milk from the fridge, giving a soft “morning baby.” You can feel his sleepy gaze from beside the coffee maker and you arch slightly, pretending to not see what you’re looking for. You’re just starting to wonder if he’s noticed you’re not wearing panties when you hear him fall to his knees behind you, turning you around and fucking you with his tongue.

Seems Joel isn’t bored either.

///

Bitch I miss u! [sadface.jpg]

Sarah attaches a sad-looking selfie to the text that makes you giggle. Your time in Austin is limited, only two weeks remain before you head back home, so you have to think to the future even if that’s the last thing you want to do.

I miss you more! How is Chile?

I love it! We went stargazing in the Atacama Desert last night! [desert.jpg]

Holy shit you look so hot!

(EMOJI) Must be all the Chilean sunshine. You should be out here enjoying with your guy.

You feel your throat tighten. You can’t tell her that things are going well with your ‘guy’. She’ll want a photo. And you know she’ll recognize her own fucking house in the background no matter where you stand. Same goes for any coffee shops or local hot spots. So you try to change the topic.

How's Charlie?

Not so good. He just got an email about the job he applied for. He didn't get it so he'll jobless in September. We’re both pretty upset.

I'm so sorry.

You frown at your phone, reading your text from Sarah. She seems pretty down about the whole Charlie thing. Sarah’s always been a planner, so you know that changes like this can really set her off. She and Charlie had planned on San Diego for their next steps and it had seemed like Charlie was a shoo in. Sarah was already talking about the cute apartment they were gonna get after their travels. Your heart breaks for your friend.

It’s okay. I just wanted to say I miss u. Hope ur having fun with your guy since you loooooooooooooove him so much. One day you’re gonna have to send me a photo for approval. Gotta make sure he’s good enough for u.

I promise he is.

The door to the bathroom opens just then and a waft of steam exits, along with the scent of bergamot and whatever else is in Joel’s shampoo. He’s wearing only his boxers and the towel is slung over his shoulder as he rubs at his damp curls.

“Mornin’ baby.”

You watch him go to the dresser and pull on his black Miller Construction t-shirt, biceps bulging.

You lay in bed, gazing up at a freshly showered Joel who looks and smells so fucking sexy your pussy throbs. His broad shoulders ripple under the strained t-shirt fabric as he drags a comb through his wet hair.

“Do you really have to go back to work today?”

It’s been two weeks of just existing in this blissful cocoon of eating and laughing and fucking. You don’t want it to end, but of course life has to intrude.

“F’raid so, baby. I’m the boss and I better show my face before they start likin’ Tommy better.”

“Not possible,” you tell him with a grin.

“But to make up for it, I’m takin’ you out tonight,” he tells you, his dark eyes staring at you in the mirror’s reflection.

“A date?” you’re on your knees now, hands excitedly clasped in your lap. “Where?”

He drops the comb on the dresser, coming to sit next to you on the bed. He grips your chin in his thumb and forefinger, dragging your mouth to his only to stop an inch from your mouth.

“S’a surprise pretty girl.”

“How should I dress?”

“However you want,” he shrugs before kissing you softly. You hold in an eye roll at this. Men just don’t understand fashion.

He prepares to stand but he smells so good and he looks even better. His curls are drying into soft little salt and pepper waves and you need to have him. You pull him back for another kiss, tongue’s dabbing.

“Do you really have to go right now?” you ask with a teasing lilt. Your hand drifts between his legs and you smirk when you see his eyelids flutter.

“Yes,” he says sternly, his hand covering yours.

“Just five minutes,” you urge, hands coming to unbuckle his jeans, drawing down the zipper and sighing when his warm cock comes alive in your palm.

“I-I have to go,” he breathes against your mouth. “I gotta-”

“Just lemme make you come,” you whisper, kissing his jaw. “I wanna make you come, Daddy.”

Joel tries so hard to regain his thoughts but you’ve started stroking and he’s powerless. It isn’t long before he’s driving you into the mattress, hips snapping against yours and moaning your name into your shoulder as he tells you time and time again that he’s late, that he has to go, that… oh fuck you feel amazing.

It’s an hour later when Joel finally rushes out of the house, still pulling down his t-shirt as he starts the truck.

///

You’re sitting on the couch, going through job applications for back home as you wait for Joel to arrive for your date night. You’ve only got a week or so left here in Austin before you have to go back to your depressing life. You need to have a plan, a place to rent. You can’t move back with your awful parents. Parents who haven’t sent you as much as an e-mail since your blow up at graduation.

The doorbell rings, surprising you into dropping your phone. You wait a moment, eyes wide as you stare at the door. Joel has never told you one way or the other if you should answer it. What if it’s Tess? What if it’s a nosy neighbor?

Ding dong.

Fuck it. If it’s a neighbor you’ll tell them you’re a friend of the family. If it’s Tess…well… You don’t know what to do about that.

You straighten your dress, trying to look composed as you sail to the door, opening it a crack and peeking your head around.

Joel stands there on the front porch dressed in a pale blue button down and fresh jeans. He’s smiling widely at you and in his hands he holds a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Some yellow, some pink, but the ones that really call to you are the white sleepy looking ones.

“I’m here to pick you up for our date,” he rumbles, his eyes glittering. His eyes sail over your face and the sundress you’ve chosen. “Fuck you’re a knockout.”

You blush, taking the flowers from him as you open the door widely. “Thank you, they’re stunning.”

“The yellow ones are kerrias and those white ones? They’re called summer snowflakes,” he says as he watches you gazing at them.

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

You press a kiss to his eager mouth, his lips chasing yours when you pull off squealing.

“I’m gonna put them in water!”

You find a tall vase under the sink and arrange the bouquet inside, gazing at them with your cheeks hot. You’ve never been romanced like this. Conrad thought jewelry and expensive dinners were enough. Joel does those things but he does so much more. He remembers little things, he calls you beautiful, he cherishes you.

Joel is still standing by the front door as if this is a real date and you hurriedly rush back, pulling your purse over your shoulder. You take in his button down and jeans again, scrunching your nose in confusion.

“How-“

“Had the clothes in my car,” he tells you with a grin before offering his arm. “Ready to go, beautiful girl?”

///

He takes you to a food truck for dinner, not exactly what you were expecting, but certainly nothing to sneeze at. The streets are busy, lined with tourists all snapping photos, laughing, listening to the street musicians.

“They got the best tacos here,” he informs you as he passes you a carton holding several. “And there’s somewhere I wanted to show you.”

You follow him down the busy main streets of Austin, past the various folks that try to sell you trinkets. You come upon a group of people bustling around one specific site, a painted mural of a piece of toast saying “You’re my” and a dab of butter boating the words “Butter Half”. You grin at it.

“They did these murals all over Austin,” Joel explains as you approach it. “Some’ve been around for decades, some more recent. S’one of my favorite things about Austin. I look at ‘em all the time when I need a walk, or to clear my head. S’better than any art gallery, cheapter too.”

“Are there more?” you ask, taking a bite from your taco.

“Yep.”

As the two of you eat your dinner, Joel takes you through a walking tour of the neighborhood, pointing out the various murals that you pass. Some are funny, some political, some devastating.

Wherever you go people are posing in front of them, flashing peace signs and smiling broadly at phone cameras. An especially popular one is the one on a green background with the red spray painted words: I love you so much. Compared to the rest of the colorful pieces its sweet in its simplicity.

“I like that one,” you muse.

“Me too,” Joel says, kissing your temple and taking your hand. He grabs you an ice cream around the next block, watching as you grapple with not letting it drip down your palm in the summer heat.

You watch Joel’s face turn into a smile as you pass a woman with two children. One in her arms, the other tugging her towards one of the murals. You aren’t blind to the way his eyes get wistful, his mouth tight. You think of your conversation over spring break when he didn’t really answer your question.

"You really want more kids, don’t you?" You offer gently.

"Uh, maybe, yeah," Joel shrugs, almost embarrassed at being caught out. "I mean, I had Sarah when I was nineteen goin' on twenty. Would be nice to be a dad when I'm not scrambling paycheck to paycheck with a wife who's got one foot out the door."

You nod thoughtfully, your tongue coming to take a slow lick of your cone.

"Just so you know, it's not a deal breaker," Joel is quick to explain when you go quiet. "I mean if we... You know… You don’t need to want them."

"But you just said you think you want another kid."

"I want you more."

You feel your heart hiccup at that. You have to turn away so he doesn’t see how your eyes have grown glossy. Sometimes Joel says the perfect, most amazing thing and he doesn’t even realize it.

The subject is dropped for the time being. It feels like too much too soon.

"S'funny I've never been a PDA person," Joel muses as he runs his fingers along your spine as the two of you continue to walk. "But I can't keep my hands off of you."

"Same here,” you admit. “I used to hate it when Conr- when my ex would hold me around the waist when we walked. It felt so… possessive.”

“I’ll make a note of that,” Joel muses with a smirk.

“That’s different,” you say quickly, eyes wide. “I… I wouldn’t mind it if you did it.”

“You like me bein’ a little possessive of you?” Joel murmurs, smirking down at your increasingly red face. You give an airy shrug, hoping it conveys a sense of indifference.

“Maybe.”

His hand wraps around your waist, holding you against him as you keep walking. And it doesn’t feel like possession, it feels like love. Everything Joel does feels like love.

With your ice cream gone but your hand still sticky you come to another mural, this one a black painted wall with writing all over. The closer you get the more you can the details. It’s like the wall of the building has been painted like a huge chalkboard. Stenciled on is the same question over and over ‘Before I die _________”.

You can see there are so many answers in chalk all over it.

Before I die I want to visit Australia.

Before I die I want to see Harry Styles in concert.

Before I die I want to write a book.

“You ever answered this?” you ask as you read more of the various scripts.

Before I die I want to make a change in the world.

Before I die I want to win the lottery.

“Yeah. Once.”

You turn to him when he doesn’t elaborate. He’s got a funny little look on his face, staring at the mural.

“When?”

“Little bit after Christmas,” Joel mutters, almost embarrassed. He tries to keep walking but you hold him steady by the wrist. He looks back over at you, his cheeks stained pink at the cheekbones.

“C’mon, tell me,” you urge with a gentle tap of your hip against his. “No secrets, remember?”

The day is quickly turning to night and Joel’s silhouetted in the golden hour, making him look almost angelic as he stands there. The deliberation is clear in his expression before Joel huffs a soft sigh, his mouth twitching into a crooked smile as he leans forward, his mouth at your ear.

“Before I die, I want to hold Snowflake one more time.”

Your eyes fill with tears as he pulls his face back from yours, his own eyes damp. You know how he must have been feeling last year. The same way you had been, only you’d convinced yourself it was one-sided. A fleeting infatuation.

How wrong you had been.

///

You and Joel haven’t brought up the fact that you have to leave soon. Three days in fact until your unofficial time with him is over. Three days left of kissing and hugging and whispers of fidelity and love are shared. Three days left of fucking him over every imaginable surface.

You want to distract yourself from the oncoming misery so you send him a text with items you’ll need to make him a special dinner. At six promptly the front door to the house opens and Joel comes walking in, weighted down with grocery bags.

“You’re sure you needed all this stuff?”

“Mhm,” you jump up from the couch, padding after him into the kitchen. “I wanted to make something special to celebrate our time together.”

Joel grins over at you, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he drops the bags on the counter. He leans forward and presses a peck to your mouth. You feel his tongue dab against yours and you know exactly what he’s up to.

“Get outta here,” you say pushing him gently and going to stand at the counter. “I gotta start cooking.”

“I just wanna watch,” Joel insists, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your middle. You want to deny him, but his hands are coming to the hem of your t-shirt, tugging it free from your skirt.

“Joel-“

"Remember when you sucked my cock right there?" Joel groans into your hairline, pressing you into the counter with his hips.

"Yeah," you whimper, feeling his hand curling around your panties and tugging them down over your ass.

"Fuckin’ filthy girl."

“Mhmmm,” you murmur, hand going behind you to slide down his front. His cock is already hard when you squeeze it through his jeans. "Wanted you to fuck me against it."

"We can make that happen," Joel grins against the crown of your head, pulling himself from his jeans. "You want that, baby?"

"Yeah."

"C'mon now," he breathes as he sheaths himself in your dripping pussy. "You be good an' loud for me. You tell me how good it feels."

You do.

Subsequently dinner is late, but delicious.

“Holy shit you could cook all this time?” Joel whistles between bites of cornbread and steak amongst your other homemade items. “You’ve been holdin’ out on me.”

“Maybe I just like your cooking better.”

“Mhm.” Joel gives a roll of his eyes at that.

Despite the both of you being stuffed from dinner and dessert, you still want to fuck him later that night. It feels like urgency as you think of time ticking away, but as you roll towards him in bed Joel doesn’t quite seem himself.

He’s looking at the ceiling, brows scrunched together. It makes you nervous even as you lay curled in his arms.

“What’s going on?”

“Huh?” Joel turns his attention to. “Nothin’ baby.”

You both fall quiet, your fingers twisting in the duvet. Your mind goes home to a house that feels cold and empty. To a bed that won’t have Joel in it. You try not to feel too devastated. You don’t want to ruin what precious time you have left.

You tilt your head, seeing that Joel is staring up at the ceiling again.

You shuffle to balance your chin on his sternum, gazing up at him under sleepy lids. You want to memorize his face, the way his chest falls when he breathes or the sweet, gentle way he’s gazing at you.

"What do you think of stayin' here a bit longer?" Joel whispers, hand coming to rub the hair over your ear.

"In bed?"

"In Austin."

"Like, for the rest of the summer?"

The thought makes your pulse pick up. You are in absolutely no rush to head back home to your parent’s house. In no rush to leave Joel's warm arms and warmer smile.

"Longer 'n that," Joel murmurs. Your brows knit together.

"You said you were plannin' on doing your courses online," Joel explains. "And you were lookin' for a part time job but you didn't have one yet. So why not just do it all here? I know lots of people; I could find you a job easy."

You stare at him a moment as you digest this. Joel is asking you to move in with him. And instead of fear or unease you felt at the thought of doing so with Conrad, your face blooms into a beaming smile.

"You've really been thinking about this," you say both touched and amused by him. You crawl up the length of him, wrapping your arms around him.

He goes quiet, looking embarrassed for a moment before his arms tighten around you, holding you to him as he kisses your neck.

"I'd love to," you answer with a soft peck to his lips.

“Yeah?”

"Yeah,” you grin, blinking back the wet. “I never wanna leave Austin...Or you… Or this bed."

Joel's mouth finds yours, hands pulling you more tightly to him as if his joy can be expressed better physically.

"And if it's too much stress don't worry about the job," Joel assures you between kisses. "I'll take care of you."

"Joel, I'm not gonna sponge off of you," you insist with a frown. "I'm not gonna be a kept woman. I'm gonna get a part-time job while I finish school."

"Well until then I've got a job for you," Joel says with a crooked grin as he pulls your hand over the hardening cock in his sweatpants. "One I know you're more than qualified for."

///

The sunrise feels different in Joel's bed. You can't quite explain it. It's like the colors are more vibrant peeking through his blinds, the warmth more gentle against your skin.

Joel is always wrapped around you, legs twisted, your head buried in his neck, as if even sleeping he never wants to be without you. The serenity of these first moments of consciousness never fails to amaze you.

One morning you can't help but marvel at how beautiful he is when he sleeps. Plush lips parted, eyes softly shut, dark lashes fanning over his cheek. His golden body muscled and warm from slumber.

And he’s yours.

The concept overwhelms you and you find yourself pushing your body from the bed, energy forcing you to the kitchen where you put on a pot of coffee before padding into the living room. The sun hasn’t quite risen over the neighborhood yet.

You sit on the window seat, shoulders loose and your head tilted to the side. Your hands are in your lap, loosely curled against your ankles, the percolating coffee forgotten as you take in the beauty of the morning.

You’ve never had things like this; quiet, peaceful mornings where the day stretches out before you full of sublime joy and possiblity. Always in school or at home with your parents or with Conrad. But with Joel you just exist, not beholden to anyone but yourself.

This is what happiness is.

You hear footsteps pad slowly towards you and you glance up over your shoulder to see a mug of coffee extended in your direction, made just the way you like it. You take it along with the full lipped kiss he gives you. Joel’s eyes are sleepy small and his body is still warm from slumber.

"Watch the sunrise with me," you whisper.

Joel nods before taking a seat next to you with your situating yourself in his lap, leaning back into his chest as the pink of the sky bleeds into blue. You sip your coffee slowly, reveling in the security of Joel's body, the steady rise and fall of his chest, at the way his muscled arms wrap around you like a cloak.

You're both silent as the gold of the morning breaks through, casting everything in that hazy romantic light. You don't even notice the tears until they plop onto your bare leg. Joel must notice too because he cranes his head to peer into your face.

"What's the matter, baby?"

His voice is early morning rumble. You sniffle before gazing up at him with a watery smile.

"I'm just so happy."

///

In early July Austin goes through a heat wave that leaves everywhere absolutely sweltering. It has you and Joel resting on the living room floor, the air conditioner and fans whirring around you. Joel wears nothing but shorts and you nothing but a skimpy pair of cut offs and tank top. But neither of you is feeling amorous.

The heat carries into the rest of the work week leaving Joel sweaty and exhausted when he comes home. The air conditioner is working overtime but the sticky heat lingers. It makes doing much seem impossible. You’ve been stuck inside the last few days, eating cold meals and trying to do as little as possible.

Joel doesn’t always have bad days at work, but when he does you want nothing more than to take the weight from his shoulders. You can tell it’s an especially bad one today because he kicks off his shoes and drops the toolbox at the front door.

“Bad day?”

“Tommy thought it would be great to sign off on tile that we can’t fuckin’ afford on this latest remodel,” Joel all but snaps, collapsing onto the couch with a groan.

“I’m sorry. Can I do anything?”

“Lower the price of fuckin’ tile?”

You don’t say anything to that. Suddenly you feel very small, as if this is somehow your fault. As if you do in fact control the price of tile. You glance around the house and see plates on tables, cups forgotten. You should’ve cleaned today instead of looking at jobs.

"Let’s go for ice cream after dinner," you offer, trying to rouse his spirits. “My treat.”

"S’too hot. It'll melt before we even get a lick in."

"Home Depot?" You suggest, knowing it’s one of Joel’s favorite spots to walk around.

"It'll be crowded and we might see some people I know."

It's a bit of a sore point between you two. Joel hasn't introduced you to anyone and you've made no effort to make him. You enjoy this little cocoon you've created and don't want anything to spoil it. The thing is you have an idea that Joel would like to start introducing you, but Sarah has to know first.

Neither of you is looking forward to that.

“Could make those boozy slush things we saw?”

“Nah,” Joel replies, sweat beading his forehead.

You’re feeling irritable from the heat and unhappy that Joel’s bad day has somehow translated into you feeling shitty.

“Well you’ve shot down all my ideas why don’t you come up with one?”

“I just worked ten hours in the blistering sun. I’m sorry if I’m not in the mood to plan a fuckin’ date,” Joel snaps, sweat beading his forehead. “Maybe if you gave me five fuckin’ minutes t-”

Whatever else Joel had been about to say is lost because you’re already striding from the room. Your legs feel like jelly and you are almost blind with tears. You rush to the guest room, slamming the door behind you.

You throw yourself onto the bed; eyes squeezed shut as you try to even out your breathing. Your heart is pounding and you want to sob. But another part of you wants to tell Joel off, to tell him to go fuck himself.

You hear the door to the bathroom opening, then the shower running. You roll onto your back, eyes glaring up at the ceiling. Ten minutes pass before there’s a knock at the door. You pull yourself to a sitting position, holding your knees.

“Baby?”

You don’t answer. You don’t want to listen to him, to look at him. You’re furious at him for this and you’re terrified because this feels like your first real fight together.

When you don’t say anything he gently pushes the door open, dark eyes peeking around the door to see your tear-stained face glaring back at him. His brows saddle and he comes to the end of the bed, just looking down at you.

“So I guess that was our first real couple fight,” he offers guiltily.

“Yep.” You sniffle. "I don't like it."

"Me neither. I'm so sorry I snapped," he tells you earnestly, dropping to his knees beside the bed, but not touching you. "I know you were just trying to help. The stuff at work an’ the heat just got to me."

You shrug. “I didn’t give you space.”

“Space I’ve never asked for before? Nah, I was just bein’ an asshole," he says gently and you see the harshness leaving his handsome features. “Came home like a bear with a toothache. All you were tryin’ to do was make me happy.”

“Still.”

"I appreciated it,” Joel tells you gently. "Just maybe if I'm upset gimme time to cool off. I can have a bad temper at times an’ sometimes I just need to be in my head about it for a bit."

His hand grips your knee gently, squeezing to let you know all is well on his end. You allow it, feeling your animosity leaving you at the exchange.

"Okay," you nod. "I can do that."

"So I'm forgiven?"

"Always.”

You lift his hand from your knee and Joel smiles at you, accepting your gentle kiss to his palm without hesitation. He kisses you tenderly before pushing the sweaty hair from your face, his nose brushing yours.

"I have an idea of how to cool off."

An hour later you're at the movies with its sweet, beautiful air conditioner and giant tubs of popcorn and sodas in your laps. You and Joel pick the next movie playing which turns out to be some superhero fair he enjoys. You smile when he laughs, watching out the corner of your eyes as he does, your heart light because everything with Joel feels possible. Fights seem manageable.

Life is beautiful.

///

It’s the start of August when you start a part time job at a bookstore nearby. You and Joel discovered it during one of your lazy Sunday morning adventures where you try new coffee places.

It’s a quick bus ride from your place, but Joel insists on driving you when he can. But today you’ve been let go early due to over-staffing. You don’t mind at all, taking advantage of the beautiful day.

You walk down the sun-dappled streets feeling buoyed. You walk past the strip mall, glancing at the stores that line it. You normally don’t pay attention, but today your gaze is drawn to the sultry photo of the model in the store window.

Where Sensuality meets Style.

You don’t know what you’re expecting to do when you go inside the shop. What you’re not expecting is to come out a half hour later with some of the most scandalous lingerie you’ve ever owned. It’s black and strappy and shows more than it covers.

The second you get home you jump in the shower before primping. You take the lingerie out of the bag delicately, eyes wide with delight.

The lace black bra is completely see-through and the deep blush of your nipples are easily visible. There are decorative straps that hug the curves of your breasts. The panties match the fabric of the bra, low cut and barely covering your ass. Around your middle is a strappy black garter belt that matches the straps of the bra. You pull on the sheer black thigh-highs, attaching them before spinning, turning to see you from every angle in the bedroom mirror.

You look hot.

Your strappy high heels have been in the bottom of your bag, waiting for such an occasion. You tie them up, smiling to yourself. Joel is going to be very pleased. You pull on the black silk robe that came with your purchase, a thin little kimono-style that barely reaches your knees.

You’re just applying a deep shade of red to your lips when you hear Joel’s truck pull into the driveway. Your heart skips a beat and you quickly spritz yourself with the perfume Joel bought ages ago.

Showtime.

You hear the key starting in the lock and with a dramatic flourish you throw open the door as you undo your robe, letting your lingerie doing most of the talking for you. You strike a pose, hip jutting and tits out.

"Hope you're ready to get your cock sucked Mister Mill-"

Your eyes blow wide when you see the man on the other side of the door isn't Joel at all. It's a younger man with similar eyes and curls, his hand raised and holding a key to the house that he was in the process of unlocking.

The man averts his eyes to the ground politely before breaking into an embarrassed grin. You pull the robe around you tightly, cinching it and squeaking in humiliation.

"Now I see why my brother keeps rushin' home after work," the man says with an unsteady laugh.

Brother.

This is Tommy, Joel's brother that you've heard so much about.

Fuck

Sarah's uncle.

Double fuck.

"I…uh..." You falter, terror running through you.

Tommy looks immediately apologetic, his dark brows furrowed.

"Hey now, there's no need to be embarrassed," Tommy assures you. "Joel's his own man. I ain't gonna tell him he's too old and ugly for a pretty young thing like yourself."

You wonder if you should make up a lie like you're the house cleaner. But no, you can't after you answered the door dressed like you are.

Triple Fuck.

"It's not just that," you say and suddenly you feel the blush heating your cheeks. "It's uh... "

"What the fuck is goin’ on?"

The two of you glance over to see Joel pulling his truck into the driveway beside Tommy’s. He nearly jumps out while it's still parking. His legs scissor quickly over the grass, nearing to you.

You hear Tommy swear under his breath as his older brother advances. Joel sees you in the doorframe, your eyes wide. He glances down your body when he sees you’re wearing a robe before glaring at Tommy.

"What the fuck are you doin' at my house?"

"Came to get those tools we talked about." Tommy tries to smother his smirk. "Didn't know you had company."

"You could've called."

"Never had to before."

“Well you do now.”

The two brothers stare at each other speaking through micro expressions. You worry that a fist fight is about to break out if you don't de-escalate the situation.

“I’m gonna go change," you say with an awkward laugh.

"I'll grab the tools," Tommy mutters, wincing at the angered look from Joel. "Think they're in the back shed, yeah?"

"Or the garage. Can't remember."

The two continue talking lowly but you’re already in the bedroom with the door closed. Your cheeks are flushed and your heart is beating like mad as you go to the dresser to pull out some jeans and shirt, your hands trembling with anxiety.

What if Tommy tells Sarah?

She'll be devastated. She needs to hear it from you and Joel, not her uncle.

You hear the bedroom door open behind you and you see Joel slip into the room, his dark eyes on you.

"I'm so sorry," you say as he approaches you. "I thought it was you."

"Course you did," Joel murmurs, coming to stand next to you. "How could you have known my idiot brother would be breakin' in?"

"I'd hardly call it breaking in," you say with an eye roll. "He had a key."

"Not anymore." Joel frowns, his eyes noting the robe again. "Did you just wake up?"

"No," you say, suddenly shy. "I was... I was wanting to surprise you.”

Joel's gloomy mood is immediately broken. His mouth curves into a broad smile.

"My girl," he coos, fingers pinching your chin softly. "So thoughtful."

You want to say more but Joel's fingers are sliding down your neck, ghosting over your breasts and then at the sash untying quickly, eyes wide with anticipation. He practically tears it from you as you hold in a giggle.

When Joel sees the lingerie underneath you feel his gaze turn ravenous.

"This is what you were waitin’ to show me?" Joel murmurs, hands trailing down the front of your lingerie.

"Yeah."

"Turn for me," Joel whispers. You spin gently in his arms, feeling flustered. He grips a handful of your ass, groaning at the sight as it falls. "Fuck baby. I don't deserve this."

"You deserve more," you tell him, looking at him over your shoulder.

You spin slowly in his grip, feeling his fingers drag along the sheer fabric. Joel casts an appreciative gaze at your breasts barely contained. He's groans feel the back of his throat, his hands cupping you through the fabric. He sees your nipples and latches his full mouth over one, sucking through the fabric.

"Joel!"

He does the same with the other, soaking the sheer fabric and leaving you panting. He twists you gently, his hand sliding over your covered mound.

"Gonna let me fuck you, pretty girl?"

"Now?"

"Mhmm," Joel murmurs against the shell of your ear. "Can't wait when you look that good."

"I guess I could show you what I had prepared," you tease.

He watches you slide onto your knees in front of him, hands deftly coming to his belt and zipper.

Joel watches this with his mouth parted and his gaze electric as he watches you pull his cock from his jeans. He's rock hard and when you swipe your tongue over the head he hisses.

You kiss the head gently, feeling him twitch with every graze of your full mouth over him. Your tongue comes out to give long, wet licks to the shaft and you hear him groan above you. You place him against your lower lip, watching the red bloom on his cheeks.

You look the very picture of debauchery on your knees with his cock resting against your lips.

"Can I please suck your cock, Joel?"

A full-bodied shudder goes through him at your husky plea. His hand comes to cup your cheek as he gives you a soft shake of his head. You're surprised at this and when he tilts, bringing you to a stand in his arms you furrow your brow.

"Need to feel your cunt, baby," he says grazing his lips against yours. 'S'that okay?"

You pause, indecision flirting across your features. You're not exactly quiet when Joe is inside you. He turns you, holding you from behind and urging you towards the bed. But you pause, your pulse thrumming.

"Tommy might hear."

"He never should have come here," Joel tells you as he nuzzles the back of your neck. "His own fault if he hears somethin'."

"Joel!"

"Mister Miller," Joel croons against the shell of your ear and suddenly you understand. The dynamic that started all of this, fucking when you could be caught. He's throbbing against your back and you smile, grinding back against him.

"You're so bad, Mister Miller," you coo, feeling as delicious goose bumps prickle all over, whimpering when Joel's palm cups your pussy through the fabric.

"Must be what you like, cuz you're soaked," he reminds you, nipping the flesh of your lobe. "Get on the bed for me, bad girl."

His hand moves from your pussy to slap your ass playfully. You barely hesitate before you shoot him a smirk and go to unbuckle your heels but Joel stops you with a firm shake of his head.

“Leave ‘em on.”

You grin up at him before turning onto your stomach, sure to arch appealingly as you crawl on all fours to the center of the mattress. Joel watches this from under heavy eyelids, his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans.

You throw yourself onto your back, giggling softly when Joel comes to bracket your thighs with his own. He looks down at you with a heat in his eyes that you can feel burning within you. He leans over your body, warm and heavy and his head drops, mouth coming to lick your hardened nipple through the gauzy black fabric. The other is pinched with his free hand, worrying them both into straining points.

He does the same with the other, attentive as you sigh in exhilaration. Your thighs band around his waist, holding him nestled against you. His hands are tugging the front of your lingerie down, exposing you to him.

"Gorgeous," he breathes, huffing along your sternum, kissing down your stomach. It twitches under the contact.

You give a small gasp of surprise when Joel tugs you by the ankles until your ass is at the edge of the bed. His hands slide up your black thigh highs, inhaling as he looks you over. He brings your legs to either side, hooking your heels at his shoulder before kissing each ankle bone sweetly.

He begins subtly licking his lips in anticipation as he views you, eyes taking their time to see you pliant and waiting for him. His thumbs hook in the waist of your thong, tugging it off officiously over your ass as you squirm excitedly below him. He brings them off over your ankles and shoes, the heels at his ears.

"Wrists together," he murmurs, the black edging out the remaining brown of his eyes.

You exhale slowly, trying to calm the flush going through your body. You hold out your wrists to him, your own eyes bright.

Joel smirks down at you before binding your wrists securely with your panties. The fabric is taut around your wrists as you raise your arms above your head, letting them fall back on the mattress.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you tell him, playing into it as you gaze at him through hooded eyes. "Shouldn't fuck me when he could hear, Mister Miller."

"Maybe I want him to hear," Joel replies smoothly, surprising you. "Maybe I need him to know why he doesn't come bargin' into my house."

You giggle up at Joel, watching him bring his cock from his pants. He's remarkably hard, the head weeping as he guides it to your entrance. You’re practically folding in half, your legs against his chest, his cock teasing your clit.

"Spread those legs for me," Joel murmurs with adoration in his eyes. "Lemme see how wet she is."

"Yes, Mister Miller."

Your thighs part and he gives a heavy sigh at the sight, his hands holding your ankles against his shoulders. You lay there bound and exposed to him and you've never felt safer. You exist in the harbor of his love, protected.

Joel's one hand goes to your inner thigh, sliding until it reaches the seam of your cunt. You give a soft whimper as his fingers drive forward, grazing your clit.

"Fuckin' perfect."

Those same fingers begin to curl, coaxing more delicious whimpers from you. Joel watches this all with eager interest, his cock weeping at the sight of you restrained and spread wantonly for him. When he adds a third finger you feel your thighs begin to quake.

"Don't make me wait anymore," you beg needfully through moans. "I need your cock. Please."

Joel slowly removes his fingers, slipping them from you to wrap around the base of his cock, drenching it in your arousal before he leads it between your trembling thighs.

"Anythin' you want, baby," Joel grins down at you. "Anythin' you want."

Joel slides into you with ease. It's not shocking; you're already dripping for him. He lets out a groan before his hands go to your thighs, parting them further, allowing him to thrust deeply, his ass clenching as he bottoms out in you. The two of you give a soft gasp at the sensation.

“Never felt this good,” he tells you, eyes heavy. “Not with anyone.”

His palms slide down your thighs, grazing over your calves until they come to stop at your ankles. Joel takes one in each hand, pressing a kiss to the delicate anklebones before he's parting your legs obscenely until you’re almost doing the splits below him, your pussy glossy and pink and full of his cock. He holds you open like this, eyes ravenous as he continues to sink into you.

“Attagirl,” he croons as his head tilts back. The sensation is divine and you let him guide your movements, your hands on the bed and your legs held spread by Joel. From this angle you can see him enter you slowly, shaft glistening as he strokes in… and pulls out, grazing your clit.

"So full," you whimper, eyes rolling and back arching off the bed. He feels so good, so perfectly thick between your legs when he does it again. "So good."

He grips your ankles tightly, dark eyes peering down as he stands next to the bed. Your tits bounce with every drive of his hips into you.

"Take it all, baby" Joel grunts down at you. "Make me proud."

He’s still standing, still slightly tilted over you beside the bed. It’s impossible to touch him, only to lay there, spread-eagle with Joel’s cock driving into you over and over, deeper and deeper. Sweat begins to shine along his shoulders as he fucks into you, little groans escaping him as he watches your body ripple under him.

"J-Joel!" You groan out, hands groping the sheets.

"Not my name," Joel grunts, his hips slamming into your ass.

"M-Mister m-M-ah-Miller!"

He's going faster, his soaked cock pistoning in and out of your cunt as your body rocks against him. Your hands are in the blanket, gripping there tightly as Joel holds you wider as his pace quickens. Your hips burn, your thighs strain but you crave more. You glance down again, watching as he saws in and out of you, his cock dripping with you arousal.

"Takin' it so well," Joel grunts out loudly when he sees you watching. "Pussy is just fucking milkin' my cock today, pretty girl."

At the sound of your groan in response he fucks into you furiously, balls slapping your ass and making sharp smacking noises in the quiet bedroom. It’s this sound which brings you back to yourself, recalling that Tommy is likely in the house at this very moment, tools in hand.

"You gotta be q-quiet!" You whimper between his deep thrusts. Joel may be fine with his brother hearing the two of you fuck but you certainly aren't.

"Nuh uh," Joel grins almost ferally. "Not in my house... Wanna hear my bad girl scream my name."

It’s so fucking wrong.

"Say my name," Joel urges. "Wanna hear it when you come."

You're brain goes fuzzy, knowing what Joel requested. But a pleasure is building between your legs and drifting into your veins. It makes your mind work sluggish, unable to form the right words.

“I’m gonna come-“

“For who baby? Say it?” Joel demands, and now he fucks you hard, his balls tightening when you bounce on his cock.

"Daddy!"

Both sets of eyes blow wide at this. Neither of you were expecting that to be the honorific you groaned loud enough for Tommy to hear. But the sound of it is potent and Joel grips your hips tightly in his hands and fucks you deep.

"Fuck yeah you are," Joel grunts out obscenely. "Give it to Daddy."

You try to cover your mouth but Joel is thrusting so quickly, so deep your hands fly to gain purchase on the mattress.

"You're so deep," you moan, your breasts rolling as he pumps into you. "It's so good!"

You know that if Tommy is still in the house he's heard everything. But you don't care, all you can do is look where Joel has you spread lasciviously, his soaked cock pumping in and out of you.

"Come on my cock, come on Daddy's cock," Joel chants in a hush, sweat shining on his brow. "Need it baby, Daddy needs it now."

Joel's collar and neck are pink, his cheekbones red. His teeth are clenched and bared as he watches himself fuck into you. His biceps are curled, holding your thighs widely open for him.

He's magnificent.

His eyes roll back a moment, his hips stuttering a moment. He's getting close.

"Come for me," Joel groans out, his eyes stuck on yours. "Be a good girl and come for Daddy."

And suddenly you can't stop yourself. Your hands are clutching the blankets and your body is arching off the bed violently as your orgasm takes you over.

"Fuck, Daddy! I'm coming!"

Joel gives a broad grin before grunting your name as he spills inside you with your trembling legs still spread wide, ankles held by Joel's large palms.

Finally he comes down, his panting heavy as he collapses into the bed next to you. He brings you over to him, wrapping you in his arms and grinning in your hair.

"That'll teach Tommy to come over unannounced."

///

The two of you are on the sofa; your head is resting on a pillow in his lap. He's watching the news on TV while you scroll through your text messages. The two of you were out in the backyard today, Joel mowing the grass while you did some sunbathing. The two of you are sunburned and sleepy from it.

Sarah and Charlie are in a club. The lights are low and colorful. The image is slightly fuzzy. Sarah is being held in Charlie's arms and she holds up a glass of something alcoholic judging by the way she's peering into the camera, mouth in a sloppy smile.

Looks like you're having fun!

Chapter c ch jjj JG da

Hah yeah, Sarah's drunk. Luckily Charlie looks in control of his faculties in the photo.

"Is that Sarah?" Joel asks his eyes catching the edge of your phone.

"Yeah."

"Lemme see," Joel says reaching for the phone. "She didn't send me a photo today, just a message about some museum."

He's fake pouting, irked that you've received something from Sarah while all he's had this week are texts. His brows rise when you pull your phone out of his reach, holding it against your chest.

"She's... This isn't a photo she'd want her dad seeing."

Joel's face immediately contorts into disgust and you burst into laughter.

"Not like that," you say between wheezes. "She's at a club with Charlie and they're both drunk. I don't know if she'd want her dad seeing her wasted."

"Yeah probably not," Joel relents after some thought.

It's the first time you've been the bridge between them. A spy working on both sides. It makes you feel funny, like its wrong that you love both of them. While your love for each is not the same in nature, they have both carved parts for themselves within your heart.

“Baby?” Joel murmurs from above you.

“Yeah?”

“I need you to know that I’m serious about you n’ me.”

You glance up to his face before pulling yourself into a sitting position next to him. Your heart melts as he gazes at you.

“Me too.”

“So I wanna tell Sarah about us,” Joel says quietly. “I don’t like lying to her.”

He must see the terror in your face because his hand falls over yours.

“Doesn’t need to be while she’s off havin’ an adventure. Don’t wanna spoil that for her. But she gets home soon and when she does, I wanna tell her. If nothing else about this relationship, we're at least gonna do this part right."

"It's too soon," you tell him with a flutter in your chest.

"I wanna hold you in my arms out in the open," Joel murmurs against your temple. "I'm tired of keepin' you a secret, like we’re doin’ something wrong. I love you and that ain’t wrong.”

You feel yourself turn to a puddle at his feet when he tells you that.

"I love you too."

"Sarah talked about coming back here before her job starts up," Joel explains. "Just for the weekend. I think I need to tell her then."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'll invite her over for dinner and we'll talk."

"What if she's upset?"

"She probably will be," Joel says, sighing heavily. The thought of his daughter being upset with him churns his guts. They've been through so much together, but that's why keeping you a secret is so hard.

"But I can't keep lying to her."

"I know."

“So it’s decided,” Joel tells you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “When Sarah comes home next week we’re gonna tell her.”

“Yeah,” you nod resolutely. “We’ll tell her then.”

///

There are few people in this world that Sarah Miller can depend on.

After her mother left when she was a toddler Sarah’s always had a feel of being forgotten. Of being left behind.

Her dad is someone she can depend on. Always there if she needs to talk, helping her set up furniture, there when her heart has been broken, there when she needed money or someone to help her buy a car.

He's a good dad. A good man.

And so when the taxi pulls into the driveway on Rancher Street Sarah breathes a sigh of relief at the familiar windows and freshly varnished front porch. A classic Joel move that he does every summer.

She’s several days early since she caught the earlier flight to surprise him. She can’t wait to see him after all these months away. She’s missed him and his silly jokes, his dumb DVD’s and the way he always listens as if she’s the most interesting person in the world.

One the few phone calls she’s made home he’s seemed different as of late. More spring in his step, more smiles, quicker to laugh. She figures it must be the divorce from Tess. The woman had never really understood Joel, even if she was perfectly kind.

Sarah throws her bag over her shoulder, heading into the house.

It’s not just the excitement of being home that has her almost three days early. It’s also because she just got the news that she was hired here at a clinic in Austin. One that pays well and offers benefits and makes her really really happy just at the thought.

Unfortunately during their time this week Charlie was offered a temporary position over in Santa Fe. An equally amazing opportunity and one that he couldn’t possibly refuse considering his other job fell through. Both of them had been glassy eyed as they realized their time apart would stretch well over six months.

"It'll go fast," Charlie insisted over dinner one night that Sarah was feeling especially down. "Six months is nothing. And then I'll be back in Austin and ... I think we should move in together."

Sarah thinks of her dad living in the house by himself and it breaks her heart.

No Tess and eventually, no her.

///

Your favorite thing about Sunday is that you and Joel take full advantage of it being his day off. You sleep in, tangled in each other's arms. You usually wake up to Joel's mouth on your neck, kissing gently before whispering your name and a raspy "you up, baby?"

He never does anything more until you confirm you're awake, and then he waits for you to take the lead. Sometimes it's a kiss to his cheek and the announcement that you want to go out for croissants at that new coffee shop you both discovered.

Sometimes you press your hips to his and urge him inside you, both of you rocking to a slow and sleepy orgasm. He holds you against his slumber-warmed body as he murmurs how good you are for him, how perfect you feel.

On Sunday afternoons you lay with your legs over his on the couch. He usually has a book in one hand, the other gently resting on your calf, tracing absently. You’re usually reading your Kindle, eyes wide when you come upon something surprising. Your breathing elevates and Joel always hears it.

"What's goin' on now?"

"She just found out she has to stab three faeries in the heart with wood daggers."

"Shit, really? Here I thought the whole puzzle-lever thing was bad."

There's something about his focus on you, the intense desire to learn everything you have to share. This support, this focus, it makes you fall even harder for him. It makes your eyes go glassy and unfocused.

He knows the look. It makes him close his book with a muted slap, dropping it beside the couch before he's tugging your pants down and burying his face between your thighs until you cry out, fingers twisted in his curls.

In the evening you cook together, something your parents never did. It’s usually something easy like chicken or pasta as the radio hums behind you. On nice nights Joel BBQs with you bringing him a beer as he smiles at you, commenting that he's spoiled rotten.

Then it's TV or a movie and then to bed where more often than not, Joel urges you onto his lap where he lathers praise all over your body as your hips roll over his.

Or if you're both tired he simply drags you into his arms and whispers how he can't believe he got this lucky, how happy he is, how beautiful you are. He touches you with affection and care and you repeat much the same, feeling as if your heart could burst.

It's perfect and quiet and peaceful and you've never felt like this. So safe in his arms, so protected.

This Sunday however is different. You wake up to an empty bed. You frown, sad not to feel the warmth of his body against yours.

Maybe he's making breakfast, you think. He does this sometimes, waking you with strawberry waffles. But there's no noise from downstairs, no lingering aroma of sugar and syrup. Its possible he’s working on emails for the business.

So you stretch languidly before pulling yourself from the warm nest of the bed. You brush your teeth, before padding downstairs. You hear shuffling in the kitchen and smile as you enter.

"Baby, let's go to that bakery, again" you croon sleepily sauntering into the kitchen wearing nothing but Joel's oversized Miller Construction t-shirt and your panties. "I wanna see if they have those cro-“

The second you see a figure standing by the sink the words die on your tongue.

“Sarah?”

At first Sarah doesn't connect the dots. She's confused to see you here at her house, her mind trying to connect the dots of why her college roommate is here at her house wearing her dad's clothes. For an insane moment she’s actually excited you’re here, thinking that you must have come here for her and she steps towards you, her smile bright.

Then she sees the look of absolute terror crossing your features and Sarah looks to the counter to see two emptied wine glasses probably from last night. She sees the small touches around the home like your jacket slung over the dining chair, a lipstick tube by the microwave.

She takes in how your hair is mussed, like you just woke up here. And then suddenly, belatedly, Sarah puts two and two together. She steps back from you as if you're a stranger who's broken into her home.

"What the fuck?"

"Sarah I can explain-"

Like some terrible farce, the front door is unlocked and pushed open at that very moment and Joel's voice rings out.

"I got coffees but they didn't have any of those croissants you liked from last time," Joel calls out to you, his voice turning teasing. "Maybe tomorrow if you're a good girl-"

Joel enters the kitchen with a smile on his face that immediately drains when he sees Sarah standing beside you looking horrified.

"Sarah?"

He drops the coffees he was holding, letting the steaming contents fall to the ground where no one attempts to pick them up. The drinks just seep it into the tile floor as the three of you cast eyes to one another.

Everything in you wants to run to Joel, to have him hold you during this awful moment. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. You were supposed to be prepared and respectful, not in the middle of some domestic fantasy with the scent of sex still clinging to the both of you.

And when you see the pure anguish in Joel's eyes when he looks at his daughter you want to vomit. In this moment you would take it all back. The fucking, the kissing, the loving, you'd erase it all if it means Joel never has to experience this pain.

He takes a tentative step forward to Sarah, blinking furiously for a moment as he steadies his breathing.

"Sarah-"

"What the fuck is going on, Dad?"

Joel's lower lip trembles as he thinks of how to explain this. But how can he without hurting her?

"Sarah I can explain," you stay, shrinking when she turns her suddenly furious eyes on you.

"Well, someone'd better."

You've known Sarah for years. She's been pressed, angry, frustrated. But you've never seen her like this. With the kind of fury that makes you shrink back from her. The kind of anger that radiates off of her and causes you to lose your courage momentarily.

"Y-your dad... Joel and I are seeing each other," you say wincing at how pathetic that sounds. "We're together."

Seeing each other? You're in love with him. He asked you to live with him. You want to build a life together. You want to marry him one day, even though you’ve never voiced it.

"You're seeing my dad," she repeats slowly giving a mirthless laugh. "You don't even know my dad."

"Honey," Joel says and you both glance up at him. You cringe as Sarah realizes this the same time you do.

"This is disgusting," she utters with a shudder. She looks at Joel with a look of absolute disbelief. "She's my age, Dad."

"I didn't-" Joel falters and he casts a desperate look in your direction before he's looking back at his daughter. "It's not an age thing."

"Right."

"S'not," Joel insists honestly.

She stops and you feel your stomach sink when recognition flashes across her anguished face. She looks over at you, grimacing.

"Joe," she says barely above a whisper. "That night I heard you at the bar you weren't saying Joe. You were saying Joel."

"Sarah-"

"How long has this been going on?" Sarah’s voice is up two octaves. "How long?"

"Christmas."

"Christmas?" Sarah looks ill. "You've been fucking my roommate in secret for almost nine months?"

"Sarah," Joel warns. "I know you're angry but-"

"I'm not angry!" Sarah insists. "I'm disgusted. You're like twenty years older than her, dad."

"Eighteen," you offer quietly. The dark looks they both give you assure you that your addition was unnecessary. And suddenly Sarah’s attention is on you, her fury focused on the woman wearing her dad’s clothes.

"I brought you here to my house after Conrad dumped you because you said you were so heartbroken and you fuck my dad?" Sarah seethes. "You make it so he gets divorced?"

"Tess and I were headin' that way for a while babygirl," Joel interjects. "Long before Christmas."

"Who made the first move?"

Joel and you exchange a look and it's your cheeks that heat and your eyes that drop to the floor.

"Me," Joel lies. You don't want to argue with him right now, but you both know it sure as hell wasn't Joel who started things.

It was you who forced yourself into his room. You who begged him to let you suck his cock. You who rode him, demanding his come. Joel had come around eventually, but there was no question on who initiated things.

"It was me," you insist. "I pursued him."

Sarah is staring at you with glassy eyes, chin wobbling and the sight of it devastates you. "I thought we were friends."

Now you feel your eyes growing damp. "We are-"

"Friends don't sleep with their friends dads!" Sarah insists and before you can answer she's whirled around to face Joel. "And what the fuck dad? Since when are you one of those midlife crisis guys?"

"S'not a midlife crisis," Joel explains.

"No?"

"No," Joel says sharply. "This ain't some casual fling. I'm in love with her."

Even though he's told it to you so many times, hearing him say it out loud to someone else has your eyes spilling over with tears. Fuck you wish you were holding him right now.

"In love," Sarah scoffs with a tremor in her voice. "Bullshit."

She spins quickly and before either of you can reply she's jogged out of the house, slamming the door behind her. The tears are in Joel's eyes along with a heavy dose of panic shot your way.

"I have to-"

"Don't have to explain," you urge him. "Go."

Joel nods and before he leaves he turns briefly, eyes cast to you. He marches to you and kisses gently and all too briefly.

"I love you."

And then he's gone, his body striding from the room after Sarah. Only once the door is closed behind him do you allow the sobs to escape.

///

Joel returns hours later to find you sitting on the couch, dressed and looking into space. You’ve packed all your things in your suitcase and duffle. Your clothes are clean and you try your best not to cry when you see him.

He looks exhausted, his eyes red-rimmed and puffy. You can tell he’s been crying, or trying not to, all day. He looks at you sitting there waiting and you see his brows saddle. You don’t go to him, don’t approach him. You wait for him to sit next to you on the couch.

“Come here.”

Only then do you launch into his waiting arms, letting him bring you into his lap. You straddle him, but it’s not sexual. You do it so that you can hug him tightly, your chests pressed together, hearts beating in tandem.

"She was coming home cuz she got a job out here," Joel explains, your head tucked under his chin. "She uh, she's wanting to move back home for a few months. Til Charlie’s back from Santa Fe.”

“Makes sense.”

You feel Joel swallow and you pull back, still seated on his lap facing him. He looks so lost when you gaze at him, hand coming to cup his cheek.

“What is it, baby?”

"She says she's not gonna come in the house until you're gone," he says with a tremor in his voice. You see the sheen begin in his eyes, the way he blinks it back rapidly.

"I don't know what to do," Joel murmurs.

"You know exactly what you have to do," you answer for him, sounding stronger than you actually feel. "She's your daughter Joel. She had your heart long before I did."

You both know that this is it. This is the end of your story. For Joel, Sarah's welfare will always be his top priority and if you're honest, you wouldn't respect any other choice.

"It's okay, I already packed my bags," you answer. Joel looks struck dumb, his brows knitted together.

"You did?"

"After I saw Sarah's reaction I just knew," you say sniffling, your fingers going to a stray thread in the collar of his t-shirt. You twist it around your finger, watching the blood pool in your fingertip. "There’s no way for this to go on without hurting her.”

"I think maybe ... Maybe if we give it a few weeks," Joel tries to reason, but you stop him with your fingers gently coming to press against his full lips.

"Joel."

You both know it won't be a few weeks. The damage done to Sarah is deep. You both know that just from seeing her reaction. You know that your continued presence here will only increase the divide between them and you know you can't do that to the man you love.

If she’d come home when she was originally planned there was a maybe it could work. If they’d presented it confidently, holding hands, a united front. If they’d explained it calmly instead of being found out and acting guiltily maybe there was a chance she would have come around. But now? After what she stumbled upon? You can’t say that you would be any different.

Your hand moves from his mouth to cup his cheek once more. The rasp of his beard tickles your palm as you hold him, gazes stuck on one another.

"It can't be over," Joel says, his voice thick with emotion. "I can't give you up. I just found you."

Your heart breaks at those words coming from the man who wants nothing more than to take care of you, to love you.

"You have to," you say, sniffling. "I never want you to choose between me and Sarah. It's an unfair ask."

You also know that he will always pick Sarah. He has to, he's a father first, your boyfriend second. You see it in the resigned way he clenches his jaw. It’s why you love him – that devotion, that love.

Joel falls silent a moment, his fingers tracing the small snowflake pendant you haven’t taken off since he gave it to you.

"But she has no right to be upset," Joel insists after a moment. "You're grown, I'm grown, we're both single-"

"You're in the middle of getting divorced and I'm your daughter's best friend," you tell him flatly. "And she found out completely by surprise that we've been together for months and that we'd been having an affair when you were married to Tess."

Joel is solemn. Hearing it all out loud sounds so harsh, so vulgar. But it's the truth and you won't hide from it. Your head is on his shoulder, cheek pressed against the soft fabric.

"She has every right to be upset. I would be if I were her."

And while it's true, it doesn't stop the hurt. It doesn't stop Joel from trying to think of an alternative.

"I could put you up in an apartment in town and-"

"And drain your bank account? Make you sneak around and lie to Sarah?" You shake your head gently. "I won't let you do that, Joel. And I won’t hide away like a dirty secret, terrified of being found out."

Joel’s eyes are shut tightly, as if he's trying to block out this entire day.

"We had months of happiness and love together and maybe we have to just be thankful for that." Your voice is quivering.

"S'not enough," Joel insists, his arms around your waist, pulling you against him. "I want you here with me. I need you."

Tears are falling down his cheeks at the same rate as yours. Even as your lips tremble and your view of him becomes a watercolor blur, you press on.

"Maybe this is what we have to live with after what we did, Joel. Maybe we don't deserve a happy ending."

This is what breaks Joel and you see the light fade from his dark eyes. You see the way his face sobers as you both realize there's no coming back from this.

You don't want to prolong this heartache. You want to go and cry somewhere private. You want to regroup.

"I'm gonna call a taxi to the airport hotel."

"I'm drivin' you."

"No Joel," you say, shaking your head. "I... It'll be too hard. I need us to say goodbye here and now."

You know that if he drives you you'll invite him into the hotel room. You'll fuck all night, making sorrowful promises, extending the pain. You need to sever it quickly.

Joel sniffles softly before nodding. His eyes are wounded, large and imploring.

"Can I call you?"

"I don't think it's a good idea." Even as you say it you feel your heart crumbling. "Not for a little while anyway. If Sarah found out..."

"Right."

You see the mixture of pain and frustration in his dark eyes. Your hands go to either side of his face, holding him, thumbs grazing his stubbled cheeks.

"Don't be upset with her," you urge. "She's done nothing wrong. And she loves you more than anything."

"I know." His voice is soft and you know that nothing in this world could make him care less for his daughter. It's one of the things you love most about him. You lower your hands from his face.

The two of you lapse into silence and finally Joel brings out his phone and presses it a few times. You crawl out of his lap and the two of you stand beside the couch. Joel murmurs a few things into the phone before hanging up.

"Taxi'll be here in ten minutes."

Joel brings you into his arms, holding you tightly to him and rocking back and forth. For the next ten minutes you hold one another, your face buried in his the crook of his neck.

"I'm never gonna stop lovin you," Joel tells you plainly, mouth against your temple. "Even if I never get to see you again. I need you to know that."

You want to say so much to him but your throat has closed up entirely. You want to thank him for loving you. Want to thank him for showing you what real love looks like.

He kisses you with the regret of years of his love unfulfilled. He kisses you with the desperation of a man who knows his time is up. He kisses you with all he has and then he releases you and now you find the words

"I'll love you forever, Joel."

Because you will.

He follows you onto the sun baked driveway, the two of you walking past Sarah in Joel's truck. You see her swollen, tearstained face and feel guilt start anew. You never wanted to hurt your friend like this. The only real friend you've ever had in your life. The loss of her friendship is its own kind of pain that burns deep.

Joel fights the urge to touch you, to kiss you again; you can sense it in the way he stands so close to you as the driver loads your suitcase into the trunk of the taxi.

"Goodbye."

He can't help himself. His hands go to either side of your face, holding you there as he moves his lips over yours, kissing you fiercely. You let him, your hands gripping his waist as he tastes you one last time.

When the driver gives a loud cough Joel pulls back, his eyes wet again. There are no words left. Only the sorrow of your dual gazes as his thumb strokes your cheek.

"Promise me you'll find someone who makes you happy," you tell him in a rushed whisper, holding him tightly. "Someone who makes you laugh and feel good and wants to have babies with you."

"I'm not-"

"Promise me Joel," you tell him firmly.

"Only if you promise me you're gonna find someone who treats you right," Joel all but begs. "No more fucking Conrad’s. No more boys that don't appreciate how fucking perfect you are."

"No one could ever love me like you do," you tell him through broken sobs and Joel wraps his arms around you. You go to wrap your arms around his waist until you see that Sarah is watching the two of you from the truck with a disgusted look on her face. You pull back from him, trying to summon all your composure.

Maybe it was always meant to end like this. Maybe it's exactly what you deserve for selfishly starting this all last Christmas. Part of you thinks that it’s not fair. That your love should overcome this. But then a larger part feels like it's what you deserve.

Happiness this wonderful doesn't deserve to last.

“Goodbye, Joel.”

Shielding your eyes from the sun you cast one last look at Sarah over your shoulder, hoing she sees that this isn’t some fling. Praying that she sees the love you and Joel have for one another as she bursts out of the truck and forgives you both.

But instead she glares furiously at you, making your stomach sink as you accept that this is the only possible decision.

You crawl into the taxi, pulling the door shut and give him the address for the airport hotel. You can't look at Joel but know that he's standing there staring into the cab.

As the taxi pulls away from the curb you finally tilt your eyes and watch as Joel's form grows smaller and smaller in the back window until he's nothing but a mirage. His voice stays with you though, even and tender and husky.

I’m never gonna stop lovin’ you.

You absently finger the silver pendant around your neck, musing darkly that snowflakes never last that long.

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beaulesbian · 3 months

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[egghead spoilers, up to chapter 1110]

Sanji's humanity & Zoro's strength

(or lack thereof) - a theory of possible conflict between Luffy's wings before the end of Egghead arc. Long post ahead. Like.. very long post.

So the new chapter had a very interesting new "banter" between Sanji and Zoro, but no, actually just Sanji, because there was no usual back and forth quips followed after.

Yes, this whole post started because of these few panels: (" ...!!")

After rereading the chapter more times I realized, Sanji's not even speaking to Zoro or knows that Zoro can hear him. He's talking about Zoro, and calling him a burden to the team.

Which is just baffling to me? (fair, maybe I'm looking too much into it and next chapter it would be explained in different way) but for now, I need to put this out there and make my own small (long) theory on this.

There's lot to be said about the word burden here, and I will get to it later in the post, but for now, let's start with Sanji and his eyebrow!

It wouldn't be a perfect story if Oda didn't tangle threads of each respective characters from multiple arcs before and brought them up together later on during one of the most difficult times when Strawhats and Luffy are facing off with so much danger (reminds me of Sabaody but in a very different way).

In this instance Sanji's past could be brought up again, something that started worrying him since his fight with Queen in Wano, and especially given that his left eyebrow has been changing its shape quite a lot during the run of the Egghead arc.

Here's just few panels throughout end of Wano up to current Egghead chapter, where Sanji' left eyebrow is in the focus on the pages:

Chapter 1029 was the first part where Sanji was thinking his body might be undergoing some changes he couldn't control -broken bones insantly healed, stronger and faster than ever before, due to him beforehand using the Germa suit which possibly triggered this sort of superhuman modification he wasn't really aware of until then. When he realized he couldn't remember certain memories, he panicked, thinking he might be changing into something similar like his brothers, a scientific weapon created by his father. The worry and panic was all the more present because he thought he hurt someone without his knowing, and that'd slowly take away his kindness and sense of humanity. (Too bad I hoped the changes his body might be undergoing would only be realization of his non-cis gender status, but maybe that's still on the table for sometime in the future.):

^In this second panel his face is on purpose shadowed, which was the last time he was shown in that chapter,

and only again was in chapter 1031 - where his eyebrow changed:

and it takes him to think about Luffy and what his purpose would be if something so important of him would change. He knows why Luffy went after him in WCI, he knows what values are important for Luffy and his crew, and of course he doesn't want to be reminded of his family and his brothers and act as they did. He chooses the humanity, the kindness that Luffy loves in him.

Even to the extent to call Zoro and make a deal with him - to kill Sanji if anything would go wrong with him. "If I'm not in my right mind, I want you to kill me." That much trust he has in Zoro to protect the crew and Luffy!

Of course Zoro wouldn't do anything reckless without a good reason, but part of their banter and understanding each other would be to promise something like that - echo of Thriller Bark and the range of how far Zoro would go to take on someone elses pain. It's a promise to win their separate fights, but also this was something that Sanji put out there for Zoro to take notice of. (I will come back to that later.):

(still the "bad eyebrow" - he had that the whole chapter 1031).

After his fight with Queen (where it was also cleared what his actions were and weren't), he was only shown two times until he woke up, and both times he had his eyebrow back on good side.

1036 & 1044 (hearing Luffy awaken his powers):

All the way up to Egghead he seemed to have his eyebrow drawn this way, and it started to change only during fights -

ch 1075, still good eyebrow, tho.. ehh this behavior.. whatever:

ch. 1078, protecting his crew from Seraphim, bad eyebrow:

in between chapters 1090 - 1105 (most of which were flashbacks and Sanji nor Strawhats were shown) he appeared with his typical eyebrow:

and it changed again in ch 1107 - when he was again protecting Bonney / fighting against Kizaru:

interesting was chapter 1108 where he's standing between Saturn and Vegapunk, and he's describing Saturn with "he's less and less human by the minute" while his own face was obscured, (I mean.. interesting choice of words and what character said it, huh?):

and the next page he still has the bad eyebrow:

in chapter 1109 it's back on his typical side, where it continues from previous chapter of Sanji carrying Vegapunk- so at some point it must have shifted back (and I'm curious if these changes would be noticable in the animation). At this part he's watching how Saturn is summoning the other Gorosei to Egghead:

Which leads me to the point from above with Zoro.

chapter 1110 and their interactions (for me) was just off. I like their usual banter and bickering, it's funny (if it's in the manga and contained to few panels to make sense, not so much in the anime, but i'm not going into that now), but the thing to call anyone of their crew a "burden" just doesn't fit right. (Especially after WCI... c'mon Sanji, and especially to someone like Zoro, who's always the first one to think about the crew.)

I would understand it if he laughed along with the words to elevate their seriousness, or said something like "Finish it up, Mosshead, we need to get moving." but no. He calls him a burden. And again as I mentioned, it pretty much could have been even Sanji not realizing Zoro can hear that.

These words (in my opinion) were chosen on purpose for multiple reasons:

First we have the Zoro vs Lucci fight that goes on for a while in the real world - in the One Piece world it might be just few minutes - plus we don't know how tough were the fights with the Seraphim which let others be injured.

When Lucci attacked, Zoro immediately thrown himself with him away from the rest of the crew. Zoro was possibly stalling with the fight for time to leave. I feel he could have finished that fight earlier but that wasn't the point. The point might have been to hold him back from his crew.

also this was possibly the only fight after King where Zoro could test the limits of his powers and haki, just like Luffy in the Udon prison in Wano was basically training, this (and the Seraphim fights we haven't seen) could be something similar for Zoro.

Some people think that just because of these characters getting new powers it means they already understand how to use them/how it works, but that's usually not the point of how stories go - there can be progress and there can be setbacks, growing up but also falling back down, which makes the stories more interesting.

The words that Lucci used against Zoro were basically the same thing that Sanji said to Zoro few chapters later:

Amongst them he pointed out the Strawhats inability to cut off one of their own out of their crew to save others - like Lucci left Kaku behind just chapters before this fight when he attacked Vegapunk and Stussy (and Sanji trapped Kaku in the bubble prison). It's a play on very different characters and how they think and act to show clearly how they different they are.

The words burden or dead-weight really stood out, already when Lucci said it in chapter 1107, and the fact that they were targetting Zoro - someone who always blames himself (in his mind, not usually out loud) for not being strong enough, and someone who always has protecting his crew at the first place, was interesting in the connection to Sanji repeating basically the same words in the latest chapter.

I will probably make a different separate post only focusing on Zoro and his fear of being weak, but for the purposes of this post, just to pick a few moments where it's important in the manga:

One of the first time I've noticed how much Zoro keeps berating himself with words like "not strong enough" "too lax" "still too soft" "if I'd been stronger/ faster/ better..."

was just after Little Garden arc, where he almost cut off his ankles just to keep fighting. Time after time the crew encounters strong enemies and Zoro gets a new understanding how far up is the limit that he has to reach to keep the crew safe, so he keeps training. ch. 129:

When Luffy went to fight Crocodile and Zoro was worried and kept training on the way to Alubarna, this banter between Sanji and Zoro felt typical between them - it's about the two way street, the back and forth (that's why that new chapter and insult from Sanji feels so foreign, there's no reply, not quip back - only silence and some sort of determination, which isn't good nor bad, just.. weird.) ch. 179:

and after the final fight of Alabasta, possibly one of the first times I really started paying attention to how much it gets to Zoro, this question of how strong he needs to be. (along with what possibly was one of the first introduction of his haki and how he began training the Observation haki, disguised as meditation in the terms of the early manga) ch. 213:

Thriller Bark was one of the biggest arcs in this sense of Zoro and his protectiveness towards the crew and Sanji knows that - he knows what happened there, he even wanted to sacrifice himself in stead of Zoro for Luffy (but this is beside the point here, and I talked about it in other post before).

Zoro took on himself Luffy's pain, and after that arc he still went right to train as soon as he could despite being still injured, ch. 490. "still too weak!"

which goes through to Sabaody arc.

Chapter 510 until the end of that arc is just painful to go through again. Luffy was worried for Zoro and didn't know the scope of his injuries, while Sanji knew and was concerned in his own way too - that is another thing of how they care, sometimes wordlessly but there is that understanding of what to mention or not. ("Burden" still shouldn't be one of the words to use between them, not that far into the story.)

Now - fast forward to Punk Hazard where one of similar moments played out - Zoro telling Luffy not to goof around because they got in the New world and needed to take things seriously.

It was one of those small moments where Sanji was actually one of the few people shown with reaction to Zoro's words and his urgency, ch 678:

Sanji saying "He's so tough on himself" really puts into perspective how he sees Zoro - he knows what he's been through, and knows to what extremes he's willing to go to protect his crew.

He's definitely not someone who would carelessly call Zoro "a burden" even in the time and place and situation they found themselves on Egghead, if anything, he was supposed to be one of the first ones to know how serious is Zoro always about protecting the crew. (Even in the beginning of Egghead, Zoro stayed at first on the Sunny because "who will save them when they will need saving.")

There's few others scenes and parts where Zoro questions his worth and strength, especially in later Wano, calculating what needs to be done so they have strength to face off with Kaido, ch 980:

and later against King, ch 1033 "it was my strength that was lacking!" while unlocking his Conqueror's haki, still unknowingly:

The fact that it's been happening pretty much since the beginning of the story - how Zoro views himself as not strong enough, yet persisting in always getting stronger and protecting his crew - means so much for what character Zoro is and how much he values and loves his crew (just like all the other Strawhats in different ways), and also, as I've been catching up so quickly with the manga, there's been that hope for some call out of this behavior, to poke it where it hurts, to see what would happen if someone turns those words Zoro possibly feels in his mind against him out loud. And that's kind of what's been happening lately - and I'm curious what impact will this have on both Zoro personally and on the other Strawhats, depending who will be around for the conclusion.

Zoro is one of the few strawhats really thinking about the future, plans and what they need to still fight through, carefully calculating what his opponents might be doing, how strong they are and how much of a problem it would be to go through them.

And Sanji normally understands that, he knows how Zoro works and the other way around, that's why he still protected him when Zoro was injured, (if anything, in this moment Zoro could have been something like hinderance or annoyance to Sanji, yet he never said something like that), ch. 1015:

Even on Egghead, where there was temporary truce with Lucci and Kaku, Zoro pointed out how to recognize the Seraphim's weaknesses, and apologized for 'wasting their stamina' - again, calculating on his strength, ch. 1077:

Zoro isn't just fighting for the sake of a fight, he does have his dream and does know what's important to focus on (he himself always keeps the crew in focus when it's important!)

So it's difficult to have a conclusion about the whole Zoro vs Lucci fight without knowing what is Zoro thinking - hopefully in next chapter we will have more info on it (that is number 1111 - Zoro's birthday and bounty! so I hope it will be a big focus on Zoro again). But even beside that, it was obvious in such short time two people around him suddenly called him a burden to his team - something he takes very close to his heart and mind, something that will hopefully have some consequences for us to see and read, because as Oda is choosing words definitely carefully to have the right impact, two very similar words like "burden" don't seem like a coincidence.

To wrap this up - with Sanji telling this to Zoro felt different than their usuall banter, and as I said before - maybe because Sanji wasn't even speaking to Zoro. At the same time, on Wano Sanji gave Zoro a clue that somehting was happening with him, the fact that there was a panel with just Zoro's ear twitching and then being silent, thinking, and not replying to Sanji with anything that would hint to us about his state of mind, and it could mean he's also aware of some difference in Sanji's acting.

The way he says this reminds me of the what Sanji was thinking during his fight with Queen - "what would be more useful to Luffy, regular flesh-and-blood body? Or a cruel, cold emotionless warrior of science." Even for this small part of seeing him speak with Jimbei and hearing what Zoro was up to until then, he speaks without almost any emotions beside anger? Even with his eyebrow not indicating the change, precisely, it doesn't have to be connected in this way, except physical fights, but there could be something still changing within Sanji to make him act this way, a way that really isn't something we've seen before. I think if in next chapters he speaks to Nami, Robin or some other woman without his typical over-the-top pleasanteries, it could indicate how much of a problem this could be for the Strawhats.

So we have Sanji's need to stay human and kind, the pact created with Zoro to kill him if anything felt wrong; and we have Zoro - someone who's biggest purpose from the beginning was to protect the crew and Luffy, while many times we've seen him question his own strength, and now two people in the span of like 5 minutes in the One Piece time are calling him a burden.

It will be interesting to see if this is heading towards a clash or conflict between Luffy's wings while Luffy needs the support to fight / flee from the Gorosei.

To end this too long post, I feel it's very on point for One Piece not to have a sole focus on just one character going through it™ in one arc, but it's always a few crumbs here and few hints there. This sort of conflict would be perfect to deal with both of Zoro and Sanji's respective fears - because this is very much about fears in their minds, while at the same time if they can resolve this, it would only strengthen their crew once again.

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ourdawnishotterthanourday · 10 months

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Don't Tell The Boss — CEO Jeon Wonwoo

✧ The First Chapter — Part of the SEVENTEEN World Series

You were off limits. Seungcheol had made that absolutely clear from the very start. Wonwoo knew that, the other CEOs did and even you were aware of that fact. But when Wonwoo is tasked to fill in for Seungcheol during his monthly legal consult, he certainly didn’t think that you’d be there, his best friend’s sister, the one person he wasn’t allowed to get close to. Then why did he suddenly find himself asking you out? And why did you say yes?

✧ Genre: CEO au; SMUT [18+]**, fluff, angst, slow-burn, best friend’s sister, family drama **I've decided to post the smut as a separate post - you can find it here or at the end of the chapter – can be read as a stand alone, but it will make more sense if you read the chapter first!! ♥ Pairing: lawyer!reader x CEO!Jeon Wonwoo ✧ Word count: 29k+ (AND 2.1k smut) ✦ Warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing, slightly suggestive, a very angry Cheol, one physical altercation, arguments arguments arguments, reader shares the same last name as Cheol, extremely overprotective brother, heartbreak, time skips (let me know if I missed any!) ✎ Notes: 1) I recommend to read the prologue before you read this chapter – you might miss some crucial info otherwise 2) the story is written from the perspective of Wonwoo AND reader 3) the chapter contains some snippets that will likely come back in the other CEOs chapters ♕ Shout out: thank you to @fugaciousserendipity for your input and proofreading :D and thanks @outromoni for the banner!

“Sir? Managing CEO Choi is on line two,” Wonwoo’s secretary, Park Hajoon, called from the door to his office. Almost immediately, a puzzling frown made its way onto Wonwoo’s face. As far as he knew, Sungcheol was on a business trip in Japan and he always let his secretary manage his business while he was away. This included any form of social interactions with the other 12 CEOs. According to him, he “needed to focus and didn’t want anything to distract him”, so it would have to be important if he decided to call during a trip. What could be so urgent that he had to break his own rule?

“Thanks, Hajoon. Close the door please.” Wonwoo watched as his secretary nodded and shut the door per his request, followed by him lazily running a hand through his dark brown locks. It took him a few seconds to move from his position, mainly because he needed to mentally prepare himself for what was about to come. Though he didn’t really want to admit it, this phone call made Wonwoo a little nervous. What could Seungcheol want from him specifically? Did he forget something? Did he do something to damage the company name? What the hell was it?

Deciding that keeping his friend waiting would probably only make things worse, he eventually forced himself to reach for the phone. “Hyung?” his deep voice sounded through the large office.

“Wonwoo, glad that I could reach you! I don’t have a lot of time, but I was hoping that you could do me a favor,” Seungcheol spoke up, his voice void of any anger or disappointment. Wonwoo released a small sigh of relief at that, already feeling the nerves that had crept into his body start to settle down. Literally no one – but really no one, wanted to be on the receiving end of Seungcheol’s wrath. Luckily for Wonwoo, today was not the day and he intended on keeping it that way.

“Uh, sure? What is it that you need?” He seriously hoped that it wasn’t anything that involved him having to sacrifice a lot of his precious time, because as CEO of SEVENTEEN Gaming, he already had more than enough things to worry about, especially now that the new game he’d been working on was close to being released. But, that ship sailed as soon as he heard the words come out of the managing CEO’s mouth.

“I need you to take over my monthly legal consultation meeting with the Kang Group tomorrow.” With some effort, Wonwoo suppressed a groan that threatened to come out and tried to play it off by clearing his throat rather loudly.

Seungcheol, who knew Wonwoo pretty much like the back of his hand, was quick to add a bit more information to his request. “I know you don’t like this official stuff, but I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. I need a few more days in Japan to secure this business deal and we could really benefit from taking on this new client. I promise, it won’t be too much work. Haewon will set everything up and send you a checklist with things you’ll need to discuss, so you won’t have to worry about a single thing.”

Song Haewon had been Seungcheol’s executive secretary for many years and Wonwoo had no doubt that she would arrange the whole thing from start to finish. That wasn’t the problem. No, Wonwoo just didn’t want to bother with all this legal crap and waste two hours of his time on something he wasn’t an expert in. Wasn’t that what a legal team was for anyway?

“But why me, Hyung? You could have literally asked anyone else. What about Seungkwan? He’s great at these types of meetings. Or what about Chan, Mingyu or Jeonghan Hyung?” he suggested as he took off his black-rimmed glasses with one hand, the other reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration.

These were the CEOs that knew quite a bit about legislation and did not shy away from dressing up into a suit and arguing with a bunch of officials, so Wonwoo just didn’t understand why Seungcheol was so adamant about it being him who would take over this meeting for him.

“Because I trust you the most with this, so I need you to be there, not anyone else. Just do this for me, please? I’ll owe you one.” Seungcheol was nearly begging by now. It wasn’t often that Seungcheol was this desperate, and if Wonwoo didn’t feel so pressured at that moment, he probably would have laughed at the absurdity of this whole situation.

“Fine, I’ll do it. Just send Hajoon the info and make sure that I don’t make a fool out of myself. But seriously, you owe me one, Hyung,” Wonwoo sighed, not in the mood to drag this on any longer than necessary. Besides, the fact that Seungcheol would be indebted to him after this didn’t sound too bad.

“Thank you, thank you. I’ll definitely owe you one. You’ll get all the relevant info within the next ten minutes. Just contact Haewon if you need any further info. I need to leave for another meeting now. You’re the best, Wonwoo!”

Before Wonwoo even had a chance to respond, Seungcheol had already ended the call, leaving a stunned Wonwoo sitting there in his comfy office chair. What had he just agreed to? And who was he even meeting? Seungcheol never let anyone take over these meetings, so it had to be some very important people.

The thing that probably stuck with Wonwoo the most was the fact that Seungcheol apparently trusted him the most with this. While it was nice to know that his friend valued him so much, it also confused him. It wasn’t like any of the other CEOs would try to purposely mess up the meeting. What did Wonwoo have that they didn’t? No matter how long and hard he thought about it, he couldn’t seem to understand the logic behind Seungcheol’s reasoning.

“Ah whatever, forget it,” he mumbled as he once again reached for the phone, pressing down on a button that he used way too often. “Hajoon, what’s next on my agenda?”

True to his words, Seungcheol had Haewon send over the necessary documents for tomorrow morning’s meeting. Wonwoo nearly wanted to call Seungcheol to back out last-minute when he was finally in the comfort of his own home, going over the meeting notes. So, to prevent him from disturbing Seungcheol on his trip and risking pissing him off by canceling, he called Mingyu instead, Flavor Factory SEVENTEEN’s CEO and also his closest friend.

Whenever Wonwoo was in doubt or about to take a big risk, he would search out Mingyu to ask for his opinion, and the younger CEO was always more than happy to help out his friend. The two of them had been in the same business for many years and even before that, they had already been extremely close, so Wonwoo was pretty confident to say that he trusted Mingyu with his life. Today was no different.

“Just do it, Hyung. I’m sure it won’t be that bad. Everything has already been laid out, so all you need to do is recite everything. And even if it is bad, Seungcheol Hyung will owe you one anyway, which is a big thing! Oh, and I’ll treat you to drinks. How does that sound?” As expected, Mingyu successfully managed to erase any doubts from Wonwoo’s mind and reminded him that he would get something out of it too.

“I guess that doesn’t sound too bad. I just don’t wanna mess it up, that’s all” Wonwoo groaned, throwing his head back to look at the high, white ceiling of his home office. “Thanks, dude…for the support, you know?”

“Anytime! Just let me know how it goes, yeah? I’m heading back into the kitchen. Dessert is about to be served,” the chef chuckled and only now, Wonwoo actually noticed the noise coming from the background, the sound of pots and pans clanging suddenly very audible. He’d no doubt been in the middle of cooking for guests and had taken some time to talk to his friend. Wonwoo could only smile at that. No matter how busy Mingyu was, he would always try to make time for the people he cared about.

“I will. Good luck with those desserts,” he managed to get in right before Mingyu started yelling at someone. This was followed by a quick goodbye to Wonwoo and then the call ended, leaving him alone with his thoughts once again. “Well, let’s do this,” he whispered to himself and grabbed the sheets of paper he’d need tomorrow.

Wonwoo wasn’t really a fan of wearing suits. Although he was a CEO, he usually chose casual clothes over chic. Jeonghan, being the fashion icon that he was, had already offered his services on numerous occasions in an attempt to get Wonwoo to dress up, but to no avail. Unless it was for a meeting or an important social event, Wonwoo liked to stick to his casual attire. Similarly, at SEVENTEEN Gaming, he encouraged people to work in their most comfortable outfit, even if that meant showing up to work in a track suit or pajamas. Wonwoo didn’t really care, as long as everyone did what was expected of them.

Well, he did have to implement some restrictions. One of the company’s now-previous interns apparently thought that it was funny to show up in nothing except for his swimming shorts, which had resulted in a number of complaints from his staff, so from then on, he allowed his employees to be comfortable, but not in a way that would make others uncomfortable (i.e., being naked or nearly naked). So far, it had worked out great, because his employees appreciated the lack of a strict dress code and it made sure that the work environment was pleasant and rather informal.

For this reason, Wonwoo felt a little uncomfortable as he entered headquarters. It was an enormous building and the difference between SEVENTEEN Gaming and SEVENTEEN World’s HQ was huge. There were numerous bodyguards spread around the lobby, nearly everyone was dressed in a suit or something equivalent and the vibe was way more official and formal than at his HQ. Wonwoo was happy that he never really had a reason to visit the main building, apart from the yearly shareholder’s meeting that always took place there, but that was pretty much it. Everything else was usually done through Zoom meetings and he liked it that way.

“Mr. Jeon!” Haewon, who’d been waiting for him in the lobby, immediately approached Wonwoo when she caught sight of him entering the busy lobby. The four bodyguards that were guarding the main entrance, politely bowed to him as he made his way towards the chirpy secretary.

“Haewon,” he nodded, after which he slightly adjusted the tie that suddenly felt uncomfortably tight around his neck. He was definitely going to swap this outfit for a more comfortable one as soon as that meeting was over.

“Please follow me, Sir. The meeting will start in fifteen minutes,” she told him while motioning for him to follow her. Despite her being rather short and in heels, she sure knew how to walk fast. He nearly even tripped over his own feet as he tried to match her pace, but was luckily able to catch himself just before he could hit the ground. After he quickly confirmed that no one had seen his near mishap (because that would have been embarrassing), he picked up the pace and joined Haewon at the elevators, where several SEVENTEEN World employees politely bowed to him.

Although Wonwoo had been a CEO for many years, the way people treated him still felt odd to him. Sure, he ran a successful business, but he was only human. There was no need for them to bow to him and there was certainly no need to take the next elevator just because he was in their presence. Obviously, he knew that this was a common way to show respect, but he deemed it unnecessary, which is why he always made sure to let every new employee at SEVENTEEN Gaming know that they didn’t need to be so formal with him. He was their boss, but he was also part of the team, just like everyone else.

“I already set everything up for you, Sir. There’s water over here, but if you’d like to request some other refreshments, just press the button to your right,” Haewon explained as she pointed one of the white buttons on the panel right from Wonwoo.

“Thank you, Haewon. I think I’ll be fine,” Wonwoo nodded and watched as Seungcheol’s secretary left the room before shifting his eyes to the checklist that he’d placed in front of him. Now, it was officially time for the nerves to settle back into his body. He was currently in a large fancy meeting room on the 30th floor with a large rectangular table in the middle and chairs placed around it, and a set of large windows functioning as walls. The layout of it all made the whole thing even more official in Wonwoo’s opinion.

As he was going over Seungcheol’s notes and stressing out about what could possibly go wrong, he barely even registered the sound of the door opening, completely in his own world. At least, that was until he heard the sound of an all-too-familiar voice.

“Wonwoo?”

—

You watched with an amused smile as the CEO came back to reality and shot up from his chair at the sound of your voice. The shock was evident on his face and you had an inkling that Seungcheol had left out some crucial information.

“Y/N? What are you doing here? You’re the one I’m meeting from the Kang Group?” He was clearly confused, his eyes going over your form and taking you all in, as if he needed to confirm that it was actually you.

“Yes, but I guess my brother wasn’t very specific, huh? I want to say that I’m surprised, but I’m really not,” you chuckled, not being able to stop yourself from admiring the man standing in front of you.

It had been a good three years since you last saw each other, at SEVENTEEN World’s 5-year anniversary party, which was probably one of the only few occasions where you got to interact with your brother’s friends. And even then, Seungcheol had tried to whisk you away any time you were getting a little too close for his liking. You’d told him many times that you were a grown ass woman and that you could make your own decisions, but he was stubborn.

As far as you could tell, Wonwoo hadn’t changed much at all. His hair had grown a bit longer and he looked more mature, but he was still the tall and handsome man with a smile that always made you feel some type of way. Okay, you might have always had a little crush on him, but it wasn’t like you had ever dared to act on it anyway. Seungcheol would have nipped that in the butt before it could have even taken off.

“No, he was pretty vague about it, and now I know why. You look good,” he blurted out, his eyes slightly widening at the realization of what he’d just said.

“Thank you. I-uh…” You felt your cheeks heat up as you stumbled over your words. Who knew that a simple compliment could affect you that much? “So do you,” you mumbled shyly. And since when were you ever shy around men? It was like you’d lost all your ability to function within the span of five minutes.

You had to eventually remind yourself that you were here to represent your company, not to flirt with your brother’s best friend. Right, your brother, the one who’d set this whole thing up because he trusted you and Wonwoo to handle his business with him being away for a few days. You couldn't afford to let yourself get distracted.

To break the awkward silence, you carefully cleared your throat before daring to speak up again. “Um, let’s start, shall we? We have a lot of things to go over.”

Wonwoo was quick to agree, holding out a seat for you so that you could sit down before taking a seat himself. Luckily, after the initial awkwardness, the two of you quickly switched to business mode and went over the list of points that needed to be discussed. And much to your surprise, you discovered that Wonwoo was a natural at it.

Though Seungcheol had told you that his friend wasn’t too fond of these types of meetings and didn't know a whole lot about legal matters, he was attentively listening to your every word. At first, you thought that he was simply feigning interest, but when he started to pitch some rather good ideas about halfway through the meeting, you were convinced that he was somewhat enjoying it.

You found yourself more drawn to him the further the meeting went on, sneaking the occasional glance at him when he was busy noting something down or adjusting his glasses to read something. It went completely against your moral code, but you couldn’t stop yourself. The man was already attractive, but to see him in action as CEO made him ten times more charming, especially with the little pout that appeared on his lips whenever he was focusing. And the dark blue suit, which fit him just right, didn’t leave much to the imagination either. You just prayed that you weren’t too obvious about it, because you didn’t want to seem like a love-struck high-school girl who couldn’t keep her emotions under control in front of a good-looking guy.

Little did you know that Wonwoo was going through his own internal struggles. The moment he laid his eyes on you, he knew that he was officially fucked. He’d always kept his distance because he respected Seungcheol enough not to get involved with his sister, but now that he got to be alone with you, he couldn’t resist taking full advantage of the situation. He knew that it was wrong and he probably should have listened to the voice in his head that was telling him to get his shit together, but how could he not when you looked so good?

It all made sense that Seungcheol had been so vague about the whole thing, and why he never let anyone else be involved in these meetings. Everyone knew that you worked for the Kang Group, but none of the CEOs were aware that you were the one managing Seungcheol’s legal consultations. But as the meeting progressed, he started to understand why you’d been put in charge. You weren’t just a pretty face, but you were smart, confident in your skills and not afraid to point out any deficiencies.

He found himself clinging onto your every word. It was probably the most time he’d ever spent with you, and though he was scared to admit it, he loved every second of it. Being with you, albeit in an official setting, made him feel something that he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly, but he knew that he didn’t want it to end with this.

That’s how the two of you ended up where you were right now, with Wonwoo confidently blocking your way to the exit after you’d given him your business card and prepared to take your leave. Giving him your business card had been your attempt to give him a way to contact you. If you’d given him your personal number, that would have been anything but professional, but this was appropriate in your eyes – and you hoped that he would actually use it, even if it was only for business purposes. You didn’t really care. All you knew is that you wanted to see Wonwoo again, regardless of the consequences. And you hoped that this was his attempt to do the same.

Though you appeared calm as your eyebrows raised in confusion, your heart was actually beating a hundred miles per hour while you waited for Wonwoo to explain himself. What if it was all in your head and he just wanted to ask you a business-related question? After all, that’s what you’d come here for in the first place.

You were convinced that was the case up until the moment he uttered the words Do you want to go on a date with me?. For just a moment, your body froze on the spot, your brain short circuiting as you tried to figure out that what you’d heard was not actually a figment of your imagination.

The man standing in front of you, who’d been so determined just a few seconds ago, suddenly became aware of what he’d done and his cheeks flushed a bright pink, something which you found quite endearing despite your state of shock. Your bet was that anyone walking past the see-through office would definitely wonder about what had caused the CEO to blush like that.

Realizing that you’d probably stayed silent much longer than socially accepted when being asked out, you managed to overcome the initial shock and blinked furiously as you tried to form an answer. But before you could even open your mouth, Wonwoo had already beat you to it.

“Shit, I’m sorry. That was so unprofessional. I’m sorry, ugh,” he frowned, slapping his right hand against his forehead.

“No, don’t be sorry. I was…uh, just a little surprised?” you squeaked, mentally cursing yourself for sounding so insecure.

“I should be sorry. You’re my best friend’s sister and here I am, trying to take advantage of that during a professional meeting.” Wonwoo then began pacing up and down, your eyes following his every move.

“Forget about this meeting or my brother for now. Please.” You stepped forward and placed your hand on his arm to stop him from moving, your eyes meeting once again. “Do you want to take me on a date or not?”

It took him a few seconds to respond, so you could only assume that he was having an internal conflict with himself with the way his expression hardened. You could only hold your breath as you awaited his response.

“Yes, I do,” he finally answered, his expression softening as he slowly nodded.

“Good, then we’re on the same page. You know how to contact me.“ You pointed to the business card that was still in his hand. “Until next time then, Mr. Jeon,” you grinned, suddenly having found your confidence again. That was the moment you decided that it was time to go, leaving a stunned Wonwoo behind.

Oh yeah, he was definitely screwed.

Mingyu nearly choked on his drink as soon as the words had left his best friend’s mouth. “Hyung, you did what now?!” Wonwoo, who wasn’t trying to attract any attention, quickly shushed the boisterous man beside him.

“Yah! Can you be any louder? I’m not trying to become a headline.” Wonwoo adjusted the black cap that covered some of his face, hoping that no one was paying much attention to the two of them. The bar they were at was nearly empty, so it was pretty unlikely that anyone would be able to overhear what they were talking about. But then again, he didn’t want to take any risks. “I don’t know what came over me, okay? Fuck, I just couldn’t let her leave without shooting my shot.”

“Damn, I can’t believe you actually had the guts to ask her out. And she said yes?! If Seungcheol Hyung ever finds out about this, all hell is going to break loose.” Mingyu shook his head before taking another swig of his whiskey.

“Don’t remind me please. The plan is for him to never find out. I might as well sign my own death certificate if that happens,” Wonwoo sighed, his fingers fumbling with the rim of his own whiskey glass. The thought absolutely terrified him, but still here he was, risking it all for a woman he wasn’t supposed to be involved with.

“You know I won’t tell anyone. Just be careful, yeah? And you better tell me everything. This one is definitely going down in the books,” Mingyu smirked, giving his friend a playful wink. “When is it gonna happen anyway?”

“I know, thanks for having my back as always. It’s happening this Sunday. Shit, I haven’t done this in forever. What if I mess it up?” A frustrated groan left Wonwoo’s mouth, which was followed by him gulping down his drink in an effort to calm his nerves.

It had been years since Wonwoo had last gone on a date. Compared to Mingyu, who was dating on and off here and there, Wonwoo was the total opposite. He’d been so engrossed in his work for the past few years that he’d completely neglected his love life, neither having had the time for it nor interested in it. Well, until you had stepped into that meeting.

“Just show her the real you and it will be fine.” Mingyu watched in amusement at the way his friend was stressing over something as simple as a date. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this worked up,” he snorted, giving the older man a playful punch in the shoulder, which earned him a scowl in return.

“How can I not be? It’s our best friend’s sister we’re talking about. Seriously, what the fuck was I thinking? I need you to talk some sense into me.” Wonwoo shook his head as his mind went over all the possible worst-case scenarios, in particular the one where Seungcheol would slowly kill him if he were to find out.

“No, what you need is another drink.” Mingyu motioned for the bartender to bring them another order of whiskey. “Now, stop freaking out and tell me your game plan,” he grinned.

“He didn’t try anything weird, did he?” your brother asked as the two of you were having dinner at one of his favorite restaurants. Your mind had been so preoccupied with you and Wonwoo’s upcoming date that you almost forgot about the dinner you were supposed to have with Seungcheol the day before. The thought of having to face your brother was enough to burst your happy bubble.

“Define weird?” you smirked, which earned a sigh from the older man.

“Y/N.”

“I’m just asking,” you shrugged. “But no, Cheol. Nothing weird.” As you took a bite of your food, you could just feel his eyes on your form. This was confirmed when you looked up, only to be met with such an intense stare that made you want to hide under your non-existent covers. “What?” you mumbled, your mouth still full of food.

“Are you sure he didn’t try to flirt with you?” For a second, you thought that he knew about your date with Wonwoo and was just testing to see if you’d actually lie to him. You felt the panic start to rise inside you and your only response at that moment was to nearly choke on the food in your mouth.

In an attempt to save yourself from further embarrassment – because you were sure that you’d already attracted the attention of the other dinner guests with your coughing, you reached for your water to get rid of the itch in your throat. “Y/N, answer the question,” Seungcheol frowned, his tone indicating that he wasn’t playing around.

“Yes, Cheol. I’m sure. He was professional and we handled things just fine as you saw. Now, can we please change the topic? I feel like I’m being interrogated and I don’t appreciate it.” And I will have to keep lying to you if you ask me any more of those questions. You were usually a very bad liar and if this continued any longer, Seungcheol would definitely start suspecting that something was wrong. That’s why you hoped that the topic regarding the other CEO could be dropped.

Besides, the mention of Wonwoo only made you feel giddy at the prospect of your date with him. Wonwoo had texted you on your work phone almost immediately after you’d left SEVENTEEN World HQ, and you’d eagerly shared your personal contact with him so that the two of you could discuss the date in more detail. He didn’t want to let on much, but he said to dress casual (which didn’t surprise you at all with what you’d heard about him), and that he would pick you up.

You absolutely didn’t want these thoughts roaming inside your head with Seungcheol keeping such a close eye on you. Part of you felt guilty doing this behind your brother's back, but then there was also the part of you that wanted to live life to the fullest and take a little risk here and there. And apparently, Wonwoo had similar feelings, or he wouldn’t have asked you out so brazenly.

“Y/N. You’re not even listening to a word I’m saying.” Seungcheol sounded annoyed and you realized you’d let your mind wander a little too far.

“No, I’m listening. Your business trip, dinner with the CEO of Yamazato. Continue,” you motioned, glad that you’d at least managed to catch a few of the things your brother had been rambling about. If this thing with Wonwoo was going to go anywhere, you’d definitely have to work on your poker face in front of your brother.

The day of your date, Wonwoo picked you up just like he said he would. You had to admit that the closer to the date you got, the more you started to doubt the whole thing, especially after the dinner you had with Seungcheol.

What if agreeing to this was a mistake after all? It wasn’t like you could risk going to any of your dear friends for advice either. You trusted them well enough with your secrets, but this one was different. Just one little slip up and the reputations of your brother, Wonwoo, and even you could be at stake if anyone outside your circle got wind of this. And the thought of having to bear the guilt of being the reason for such a scandal was enough to keep your mouth shut and suffer in silence instead.

But surprisingly, all of those fears vanished as soon as you spotted Wonwoo leaning against the passenger door of his black SUV when you exited your apartment building. Just the sight of him was enough to convince you that this was, in fact, not a mistake.

He was in full disguise, with a black cap hiding his hair, a pair of sunglasses covering his eyes and a mask in place to prevent anyone from recognizing him. The rest of his attire consisted of a brown leather jacket with a white t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans, finished with a pair of white sneakers – the casual fit a stark contrast from the dark blue suit he’d worn during your last meeting together.

You had also taken the necessary precaution, with the hood of your oversized beige hoodie and a mask similar to Wonwoo’s covering most of your hair and face. Despite your brother being the celebrity in the family, the public knew your face too, and you had no doubt that reporters would jump at the chance to air your dirty laundry too if they caught you out with a ‘mysterious man’.

“So, this is what you look like when you’re not playing the role of CEO?” you asked as you approached him, a grin plastered onto your face despite Wonwoo not being able to see it.

“To be honest, this is what I look like ninety-nine percent of the time. The suit is only for special occasions, but even then I practically have to force myself to wear it. Not a big fan as you can probably tell,” he chuckled, the vibrations of his deep voice sending shivers through your body.

“Noted. I won’t get too attached to the suit then. Can’t say I’m disappointed with this look anyway,” you teased, earning another chuckle from the man in front of you before he pushed himself away from the passenger door to hold it open for you.

“You ready for this?” he asked, and you guessed that he was giving you the chance to back out while you still could. But there was no way you’d go back now.

“Yeah, let’s go” you breathed, accepting his hand as you climbed into the car.

—

Wonwoo ended up taking you to his favorite arcade, which he’d made sure to reserve ahead of time so that the two of you could enjoy your date in private. When he’d initially suggested it to Mingyu, his friend had immediately approved of the idea and convinced him that it was a perfect date activity. However, on the ride there, with you sitting beside him and still not having a clue about where he was taking you, Wonwoo suddenly wasn’t sure if he’d made the right choice for a first date, especially since he didn’t know if you were into games like that.

He luckily didn’t have to worry for long, because as soon as he led you inside the building, he could see that he’d made the right decision with the way your eyes lit up.

“An arcade? Oh, wow! I haven’t been to one of these in ages. This is amazing. Thank you!” Your automatic response was to wrap one of your arms around Wonwoo’s arm as you looked around in amazement, catching the CEO by surprise – not that he was complaining. He was happy that you already felt this comfortable with him.

That’s what gave him the little bit of courage he needed to reach out and grab your hand with his free one. You froze for a moment, your eyes drifting down to your hand that was now engulfed in Wonwoo’s much warmer one. Fearing that he’d misread your gesture, he slowly started to pull his hand away in an effort to make it less awkward. But you were quick to tighten your grip on his hand and raised your head to look into his eyes.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled softly, causing Wonwoo’s heart to go into overdrive. You were seriously going to be the death of him. “Now please, can we play some games?”

The awkward tension was already forgotten, now replaced by a feeling of excitement at the thought of spending the next few hours together.

“Come on, let me show you my favorite game,” Wonwoo grinned, already in the process of pulling you in the direction of the air hockey tables.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to start fully enjoying your date. Your disguises had been discarded in the process, allowing you to read each other’s facial expressions freely without the threat of being discovered hanging over your heads.

Something Wonwoo discovered as you played the numerous games that were available in the arcade, was that you were just as competitive as he was. Originally, when the two of you started the first game of air hockey, he’d intended to go easy on you and maybe let you win a few times.

That was until he realized that he started to struggle with scoring points, whereas you were very much in the lead. This resulted in you teasing him about what kind of gamer CEO he was if he couldn’t even win from an amateur. So, for the next few games, Wonwoo decided to just throw the chivalry aside and treated you as he would any other opponent, which, in all honesty, made it that much more fun for the both of you.

You spent a good few hours trying out the large variety of games, while occasionally taking a break for snacks and drinks. And it also gave the two of you the opportunity to get to know each other better. You found out about Wonwoo’s love for cats, and how he adopted two of them through Vernon’s cat rescue center about three years ago: Shiro and Saja. He also shared the fact that he couldn’t cook to save his life. You nearly couldn’t stop laughing when he told you about the time he’d almost burned down the kitchen while trying to make a simple sandwich with the help of Mingyu.

Many times, Mingyu had tried to teach him, but Wonwoo somehow still managed to either ruin or burn something every single time, much to his best friend’s dismay. It was safe to say that he’d been banned from any of Mingyu’s kitchens, both for his own sake and that of others. So, Wonwoo had come to terms with the fact that he was just not made for cooking and he was totally fine with that.

In return, you shared some of your own stories and things that kept you busy. Among other things, Wonwoo learned that you were very passionate about your job (which he had sort of guessed already), had a cat of your own – Bom, and that you had a fear of deep and open waters. This was the result of a near-drowning experience you had as a child, where you’d fallen out of a moving boat and had to be rescued by your parents. Wonwoo made a mental note to never mention the idea of a cruise to you.

Neither of you wanted the date to end, but Wonwoo also knew that he had a bunch of work waiting back home. Hajoon had made sure that he’d have enough to fill a whole evening, and he couldn’t afford to ignore it since he had an important meeting tomorrow – one where he and his team were supposed to go over the finances for the new game they had been working on for months.

But, it was pretty obvious that this date would not just be a one-time thing. After he’d dropped you off at home, Wonwoo promised that he’d text or call you for a follow-up date as soon as his schedule would allow it.

When he’d made sure that you’d safely entered your building, a smile started to form behind his mask as he drove further and further away from your home, still not quite believing that the date had gone so well. And though it should have concerned him, the fact that you were his best friend’s sister did not even cross his mind once.

It took about a week of you anxiously waiting for Wonwoo to ask you out on another date. Ever since your first date had come to an end, you hadn’t heard from him again. Not a text, not a call, nothing. At first, you assumed it was because he was busy. He was a CEO after all. But then your mind started to wonder after about three days of radio silence. Had he suddenly changed his mind about dating you? And even if he had – which you could have totally understood, he could have at least let you know instead of leaving you in the dark. Not knowing was driving you absolutely insane and you hated yourself for being so affected by a man you’d only had one date with.

On Sunday night, exactly one week after your date, he finally called you while you were cuddling on the couch with Bom. You hadn’t been expecting it, so you assumed it was either your brother or work who’d be calling so late.

“Wonwoo?” You quickly sat yourself up, much to your cat’s annoyance, who was quick to leap from your lap onto the ground to find another one of his cozy spots.

“Y/N. I’m so sorry I didn’t call sooner. I know it’s not a good excuse, but this week was crazy,” Wonwoo’s apologetic voice sounded through the speaker of your phone.

You shook your head, even though you knew that he couldn’t see you. “It’s okay, Wonwoo. You’re a CEO and CEOs are busy. I get that.”

“Good. I just didn’t want you to think that I was backing out of this,” he sighed, sounding somewhat relieved that you weren’t cussing him out.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t.” Lie. But he didn’t need to know that. At least your mind was put at ease now that he’d confirmed that he still wanted to continue this with you.

“Okay, so about that date..,” he started, after which the two of you fell into a comfortable conversation about your next meetup.

The next time you saw Wonwoo was only two days after the late-night phone call. The plan was to have a private dinner at a Japanese restaurant. However, per your request, your date started with him giving you a tour of SEVENTEEN Gaming. You were genuinely interested in the work he did and you were trying to understand what it was that his company did exactly. Sure, you’d heard stories from Seungcheol and read some things online here and there, but it was much better to hear it from the actual source.

When you realized that he was going to give you a tour with all his employees still in the building, you started to question whether this was a good idea. Because people meant eyes on the two of you, and eyes on the two of you meant that people were going to talk…to other people, who could potentially tell your brother. Just the thought already made you want to crawl in a hole.

Wonwoo was quick to assure you that his employees knew how to be discreet and were expected to keep whatever or whoever they saw to themselves, which included you apparently. Although he was a pretty laid-back CEO, Wonwoo didn’t like gossip and he wasn’t afraid to use his power as CEO to put his employees in their place if needed. You still had your doubts, but you decided to trust him on this. As long as word didn’t get to your brother, you were fine with almost anything.

“Wow, so you really manage all of those things? That sounds insane,” you gawked, completely in awe as your eyes darted across the chart displayed on the large screen in front of you. Wonwoo could only chuckle at your adorable reaction.

“It’s not like I manage all of those by myself. I have many people helping me. Here.” he pointed at the top of the chart, where his picture was located. “I’m mainly involved in the development of new games, as well as some administrative stuff and marketing. Technically, I’m involved in a little bit of everything and I give my input here and there, but I trust my employees to deliver good results without me having to look over their shoulder the whole time.”

You slowly nodded, taking it all in. Wonwoo then moved his hand to the left part of the chart when he was sure that you’d processed it all. “These people manage the gaming centers that are located in South Korea, but also those abroad.” He moved his hand again, this time to the right side of the chart. “And this group of people manages the eSports tournaments that we organize on a yearly basis. They collaborate a lot with SEVENTEEN TV since we also air them on national TV, but you probably knew that already,” he said, to which you hummed in acknowledgment.

Of course, how could you not know about that? Every year around October, people from all around the country and other parts of the world would flood into the city for SEVENTEEN Gaming’s legendary eSports tournament. The promotion for the event was huge and from what Seungcheol had told you, there were usually hundreds of teams fighting for a spot at the top. In other words, the competition was insane. It totally made sense though, especially when there was a prize of 150 million won on the line.

One of your favorite things about the tour was probably the VR cave, where you got a sneak peek of the game that was set to release next month. You were truly impressed with what Wonwoo had accomplished in such a short span of time. It also made you wonder how the other CEOs were managing their large businesses. Maybe someday you’d be able to get a tour from each of them – that is, if you could convince your brother first.

On your third date, Wonwoo took you stargazing after you’d had a pretty rough day at work. He remembered you sharing with him that you liked looking at the stars because they calmed you down, so he felt that it was the perfect idea for a date night. Mingyu had even offered to provide the food for a little picnic. Now, who in their right mind would refuse that?

Wonwoo also remembered that night as the night that he got to kiss you for the first time.

—

“It’s so pretty. Thank you for remembering and taking me here,” you said, your eyes never faltering from the stars above you. The two of you had filled up your empty stomachs with Mingyu’s delicious food creations and a complimentary champagne that left you with a satisfying buzz.

“How could I forget?” Wonwoo was sitting right beside you on the picnic blanket, your legs and arms touching as you both observed the little balls of light lighting up the dark sky.

He thought you looked so beautiful, even with the dark circles underneath your eyes and the baggy outfit you’d quickly thrown on when Wonwoo showed up at your doorstep without a warning. Everything about you was just so intoxicating, and as the days went on, he found himself thinking of you more and more, always looking forward to the next time he’d get to see you.

Without Wonwoo realizing it, you were no longer looking at the stars. Instead, your eyes were now focused on the CEO sitting beside you, his mind definitely somewhere else.

A nudge to his side eventually snapped him out of his daze, which was followed by the sound of your angelic giggles. His eyes instantly sought out yours to let you know that you had his full attention.

“You’re supposed to look at the stars, you know?” Your voice was soft and Wonwoo hummed in response, a smile playing at the corner of his lips at the fact that you’d caught him zoning out.

“I think I found something better,” he teased. You just rolled your eyes before giving him a playful push, trying to fight the smile that was threatening to appear.

“You're so cheesy, you know that?”

“Maybe, but it's working. Yo-” His breathing hitched as you suddenly reached up to carefully push his glasses, which had slid down a little, back up his nose.

“What?” you asked, looking up at him with big curious eyes. You really had no idea what kind of effect you had on him when you did small things like that.

“Just you. This. I feel lucky to be here with you.” Now it was your turn to feel flustered – your cheeks heating up at the way Wonwoo was looking at you, his eyes not once straying from yours.

“Wonwoo…” His name left your lips in a mumble, which caused his focus to shift to your lips for just a brief moment. But it was enough for him to want to be even closer to you.

“Can I?” Wonwoo's voice had gone down to a whisper, his eyes darting back and forth between your lips and eyes. You quickly nodded, seeming to want it just as much as he did.

That was all the confirmation he needed before leaning forward to touch his lips to your soft ones, covered in a thin layer of lip balm. Your lips met him halfway, just as eager to get close to him. Wonwoo nearly wanted to sigh in relief when your lips finally collided, because it was something he’d been wanting to do ever since he’d gone on that first date with you. He had no idea how he’d managed to control himself for so long, but he was glad he’d held out until now.

Your lips were addicting. That much he knew already from those few seconds he’d been kissing you. But when you turned your body slightly to clutch onto the brown leather jacket that he was wearing, Wonwoo lost every ounce of self-control he had. His right arm slid around your waist and he tugged you into him without a warning, eliciting a little moan from you that had Wonwoo groan into your mouth.

It didn’t take long before he had you situated in his lap, and the next thing he knew, your tongue was licking across his bottom lip – he was all too willing to accept. Wonwoo didn’t care about anything else at this moment. Not even the fear of being caught out in the open could pull him away from you right now. He was completely hooked on the taste of your strawberry lip balm, the brush of your nose against his skin and the way one of your hands had found its way into his hair, giving him goosebumps from the way you were softly tugging on it.

But much too soon for Wonwoo’s liking, you pulled away. His lips quickly chased after yours, not wanting the euphoric high to end. At the sound of your laughter, he was eventually pulled back to reality, his eyes slowly fluttering open.

“I gotta breathe, Wonwoo.“ The man in question almost groaned out loud at the sight of your swollen lips, feeling a sense of pride that he’d been the cause of that. Not anyone else.

“Breathing is overrated,” he huffed, hands coming to a rest on your waist while his fingers played with the hem of your hoodie.

“Not if you want to kiss me again.” A grin formed on Wonwoo’s face at the sound of your words.

“You’re gonna let me do it again?”

“Is that even a question?” you said, a grin of your own now adorning your face before you leaned in to connect your lips once again.

Yeah, Wonwoo could get used to this.

—

On your fourth date, the two of you were nearly caught by your brother, who decided that a Wednesday night was the right time to stop by your apartment…unannounced. You and Wonwoo had just finished the takeout you’d ordered and were in the middle of a movie when the sound of your doorbell startled the two of you. That caused you to nearly knock the popcorn bowl out of Wonwoo’s hands.

—

“Ah, shit, I’m sorry,” you cursed, quickly apologizing to Wonwoo as you scrambled off the couch and sprinted towards your intercom system. Your face paled at the sight that greeted you on the small screen. “Oh fuck! You need to hide, like now!”

“Hide? What are you talking about?” Wonwoo questioned, now coming closer to see what got you so fired up all of a sudden.

“It’s my goddamn brother. I don’t even know why he’s here, but you need to hide if you want the both of us to come out of this alive,” you whined, placing your hands onto Wonwoo’s back and pushing him in the direction of your bedroom.

That seemed to switch the gears in Wonwoo’s head, the confusion immediately replaced with pure fear. All this time he’d been so stuck in this happy bubble with you that he completely forgot about the danger that was your brother, his best friend.

“Wait, shit. My phone!” Wonwoo quickly changed his direction and rushed over to the couch, where he snatched his phone and any other traces of his presence.

Meanwhile, you’d buzzed your brother in just because you couldn’t exactly leave him standing there. He’d already rang the bell twice and you knew that he was going to start calling you to ask about your whereabouts if you didn’t open the door. You couldn’t exactly lie to him and pretend that you weren’t home, especially when you were such a bad liar.

“Why are you still here? Wonwoo, I’m not even kidding, he’s gonna be here any minute!” You felt like you were officially going to lose your mind.

“Are you sure I didn’t leave anything? Just check t-” Wonwoo started, but he was quickly cut off by you as you grabbed a hold of his wrist and started to drag him towards your bedroom. This wasn’t exactly how you wanted to show him your bedroom, but this was an emergency.

“Forget about your things. If my brother catches you here, we’re going to have bigger problems. Just put your phone on silent and hide in my closet. I’ll try to get rid of him,” you said, pushing him into your walk-in closet. That was the exact moment the doorbell rang, indicating that your brother had made it to your front door. “Not a sound.”

After that, you quickly closed the door and rushed out the room, making sure to close your bedroom door too before you made your way towards your front door. Your heart rate was out of control and you hoped that you could at least keep your facial expressions under control while facing your brother.

“Cheol! What are you doing here?” He was still dressed in a suit, so you guessed that he’d just gotten off work and went straight to your place.

“Can’t I just visit my little sister?” he asked, stepping forward to enter your apartment.

“You could have at least called,” you grumbled, even though you were freaking out on the inside. The plan was to get rid of him, not for him to invite himself into your apartment. “Cheol, do you mind? I was in the middle of something.”

“In the middle of what exactly? Do you have a guest?” You noticed his eyes scan the room for a few seconds before something on the floor caught his attention. “Are these men’s shoes? Are you dating someone?” he questioned, his eyes narrowing as they focused back on you.

How could you have forgotten about the damn shoes?

“Yah, that’s none of your business. I’m a grown ass woman. Now, can you please just go?” You were begging, already fed up with the fact that Seungcheol had shown up without notifying you.

“Don’t you think I should meet this guest of yours? Seems pretty serious if you’re even inviting him over.” This man really did not understand boundaries when it came to your personal life.

“No, Cheol. You’re not meeting anyone tonight. You’re my brother, not my babysitter.” You crossed your arms, trying to come off as intimidating as possible. Then again, it was your brother you were talking about. There was no way he’d ever feel intimidated by you.

“Fine, I’ll go. Let me at least meet the guy sometime. I just want to know if he’s good enough for you,” Seungcheol responded, but you’d already had enough and were in the middle of pushing him out your front door.

“Goodnight, Cheol.” As soon as he was out the door, you simply shut the door in his face, not even feeling guilty in the slightest. “That’s what he gets for showing up without a warning,” you mumbled.

Still, you felt a little paranoid, so to make sure that he’d really left, you peeked through the peephole before deeming the coast clear.

“Okay, he’s gone!” you called, taking that moment to lean your back against the wall as you tried to recover from that nerve-wracking moment. You were truly thankful that Seungcheol hadn’t recognized Wonwoo’s shoes and you were glad that the coats were hidden behind a door. Your brother definitely would have made the connection if he’d spotted his best friend’s brown leather jacket. The same goes for his car, which you’d told him to park in your underground garage in case someone would spot it.

Wonwoo appeared a few seconds later and you immediately let yourself collapse into his arms, the severity of the whole situation suddenly weighing down on you all at once.

“That was scary as hell,” Wonwoo sighed, his hands gently rubbing your back to calm you down. “Do you think he knows?”

Leaning back slightly to look up at him, you shook your head. “No, I don’t think so. We were lucky this time, but I don’t ever want to do that again.”

“Fuck no. I’d like to keep my sanity,” he chuckled and despite the situation, you also managed to crack a smile at that.

“Oh, and just so you know,” you started, pointing towards the dreaded shoes that had almost given him away, “you might want to burn your shoes after tonight.”

—

It was about a week after that incident that Wonwoo first saw Seungcheol again. Every three months, each of the CEOs was supposed to submit a quarterly report to ensure total transparency towards the public as well as each other. And as managing CEO of SEVENTEEN World, Seungcheol took this matter very seriously.

Wonwoo was technically supposed to have submitted it a few days ago, but he’d gotten distracted and asked for a few days of extension. Truth was, he’d been spending more time with you and he’d totally forgotten about it. It was only when Hajoon had sent him the usual reminder, he realized that he would never make the deadline in time.

It was unlike Wonwoo to miss a deadline and so it came as no surprise that Seungcheol himself had insisted on coming to pick up the report in person. Wonwoo had no doubt that his friend was curious and wanted to know what was going on with him – that was just the kind of friend Seungcheol was, always checking up on his friends, no matter how busy he was. And really, Wonwoo was happy to have a friend like him. But right now was just not the right time, especially when the reason he missed the deadline was no one other than his dear sister.

“Is everything okay with you?” Seungcheol asked as soon as Wonwoo had closed the front door behind the CEO. The younger man mentally cringed at the question, knowing that it was practically unavoidable with Seungcheol being the nosy person he was.

“I'm fine, Hyung. If it's about the report, it just kinda slipped my mind with everything else I have going on.”

“Are you sure? I'm used to Seungkwan asking for an extension because we all know that he's doing too much for his own good, but this is the first time you've ever asked for one. You can tell me if there's something going on or if there's anything I can do…,” Seungcheol offered as they made their way into the living room.

“It's nothing serious. I've just been busy with other things, nothing to worry about.” Seungcheol nodded, his eyes scanning over Wonwoo's form for a few seconds.

“If you say so. By the way, I never really said it to you personally, but thanks again for stepping in for me the other day. I know it must have come as a surprise to see my sister there, but I didn’t want to scare you off.” Wonwoo could only nod at his friend’s words, too afraid that he would give himself away if he opened his mouth. Luckily for him, Seungcheol wasn’t bothered by Wonwoo’s lack of response and continued.

“But I’m glad everything went well. I knew that I could trust you with this. If I’d sent Mingyu or Jeonghan, who knows what they would have tried with Y/N. We both know that they flirt without even trying. With you, I at least knew that I didn’t have to worry about that.” The older man grabbed onto his shoulder and squeezed down gently before offering Wonwoo a grin.

“R-Right,” Wonwoo stuttered as a sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Some friend he was. The man trusted him with his sister and what did he do? Go behind his back and date her. And worst of all? Despite the guilt he felt or the consequences that came with dating you, Wonwoo had absolutely no intention of staying away from you.

“Wonwoo? The report?” Seungcheol’s voice snapped him right out of his thoughts.

“The report, yes! I’ll grab it for you. Just make yourself at home, Hyung.”

On the way to his home office, Wonwoo shook his head at himself for nearly losing his shit at the mention of you. If he didn’t want to end up in a coffin, he’d have to find a way to maintain his composure. Because there would come a time when he would have to face you in a setting where Seungcheol, with his hawke-eye vision, would also be present.

As Wonwoo returned with the report, Seungcheol was in the middle of admiring a large glass showcase that was filled with the many prizes Wonwoo had acquired over the years. This included the trophies he’d won himself by participating in gaming tournaments – even before he started his business, as well as the large number of awards he and his team at SEVENTEEN Gaming had managed to collect from prestigious game award shows and conferences such as the Game Developers Conference and The Games Industry Awards. Wonwoo was proud of everything he’d accomplished so far and he wasn’t planning on slowing down anytime soon.

“Hyung? The report,” Wonwoo’s voice echoed through the room, catching the attention of the other CEO. He accepted it without another word and leafed through it for a couple of seconds before nodding.

“Looks good. I have to get going though. Haewon is on my case since I’m already kinda late for a lunch meeting, but I will make sure to read through it before the end of the day.” He patted Wonwoo’s back as the two of them made their way back to the front door. That was until Seungcheol suddenly stopped in his tracks, his gaze pointed at one of the two small tables that decorated the entrance hall.

“Hyung?” Wonwoo’s own eyes shifted to the small table, curious as to what could have caught his friend’s attention. His eyes finally stopped on a piece of jewelry, a silver bracelet – your bracelet to be exact.

—

“Surprise!” your smiling face greeted Wonwoo after he’d opened the front door. Your hands were full of bags and he was quick to take them off you after pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“What’s the occasion?” While you were busy taking off your coat and shoes, he curiously peeked inside the bags to find a bunch of vegetables, noodles and spices.

“Well, since you released that game you’ve been working on so hard, I thought I’d celebrate with you and let you finally taste my cooking,” you smiled and crouched down to greet the curious cats that had gathered at your feet. “Because we both know that you’ll just eat ramen or end up ordering takeout instead.”

Wonwoo laughed at that, his heart warming at the fact that you already knew him so well. After the release event, the other CEOs had congratulated him with his achievement and Mingyu had even offered to have dinner together, but Wonwoo had refused. Usually, after a big release, he just liked to be in the comfort of his own home with a good book or one of his games, and a simple meal to fill up his stomach. You just happened to be the exception to his rule.

And so you ended up cooking for Wonwoo in the huge-ass kitchen that he never even used. You didn’t let Wonwoo help you at all – which was probably for the best, but he watched in amazement as you prepared all the ingredients while switching your attention between the two cats that had taken a liking to you, and himself. At some point, you’d taken off your bracelet so that you could mix all the ingredients with your hands and Wonwoo had placed it onto a small side table to keep it safe.

Though Wonwoo would never tell Mingyu, your japchae was probably better than the chef’s version of the dish. It was honestly one of the best meals he’d ever had and as a CEO who was often invited to dinner parties, he’d eaten quite a number of delicious meals prepared by some of the world’s top chefs. He made sure to let you know exactly that by kissing you senseless after he’d helped you clean up the dishes, and you were more than happy to accept his offer.

But unfortunately for the two of you, you got called away for work before it could go anywhere and left in a hurry, completely forgetting about the bracelet. That’s why Wonwoo moved it to the table in the entrance hall, with the intention to return it to you as soon as possible.

—

“You know…Y/N has one exactly like this,” Seungcheol pointed at it and Wonwoo could already see his life flash right before his eyes. Was this it? Was this already the end of your story and possibly his life?

“R-Really? That’s such a coincidence!” Wonwoo exclaimed nervously, his mind going over the possible scenarios that would justify the bracelet being at his place without giving away his secret.

“It really is. Only a few of those were made.” The neutral look on Seungcheol’s face was suddenly replaced by a frown. “I gave it to her when she became a lawyer, and had it personalized even.” Fuck, there was no way he could let Seungcheol examine the piece up close.

“Don’t worry, Hyung. I had a…uh, a date the other night and she forgot this.” A date, really? That’s all he could come up with?

The other CEO raised his eyebrows at Wonwoo’s confession. “A date? Didn’t know you were back in the game.”

“Mingyu set it up for me, thought I’d try it for once.” Wonwoo made a mental note to let Mingyu in on his lie, because Seungcheol would definitely want to bring this up at a later point in time.

“Good, because for a second, I thought I might have to kill you,” Seungcheol grinned, even though his eyes were telling a different story. Something about his mood had definitely changed and it sent chills down Wonwoo’s spine. “Anyway, I’ll see you at the next meetup.” After giving Wonwoo another pat on the shoulder, Seungcheol put his shoes back on and left the house after a quick goodbye, leaving behind a relieved but confused Wonwoo.

Later that night, he met up with you at your place to give you back the bracelet you’d forgotten a few nights ago and he made sure to inform you about what had transpired with your brother.

“What do you mean my brother saw this bracelet at your place?” You were on full alert now, the work you were doing on your laptop completely forgotten.

“I forgot that it was there and I didn’t think about it, I’m sorry.” Wonwoo, on the other hand, was distracted by your cat that was now comfortably snuggled in his arms. You bit your lip anxiously, not understanding how he could bring it up so nonchalantly.

“He fucking knows, there’s no other way,” you eventually said, beginning to pace up and down your living room.

“Do you think I’d be standing here if he knew?” You stopped your pacing to look at the man that was petting your cute little ball of fur.

“You have a point, but still. He had this made specifically for me, engravings and all. There’s no way he doesn’t know,” you shook your head, not convinced at all. You knew your brother and he certainly wasn’t a fool.

“He didn’t get to see it up close though. I lied and said that it belonged to a date I had.”

“Really? That was what you decided to go with?” you snorted and Wonwoo cringed at how bad that sounded.

“I know, it’s not good. But…he seemed fine when he left.” He decided that it was best to leave out the mood switch and the part where Seungcheol had basically threatened him. You were already stressed about the whole thing, so Wonwoo didn’t want to be the reason to add to that.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure. Let’s just not worry about it and do something fun, hmm?” Wonwoo suggested and let Bom jump out of his arms.

You sighed, throwing your head back briefly as you tried to calm yourself down. “I have more work to do, Wonwoo.” The man apparently didn’t care, because he simply wrapped his arm around your waist and playfully trailed his lips across your jaw before placing a soft kiss onto your cheek.

“There’s always more work to do. Just relax with me. I didn’t come here to see you work,” he teased, his hands moving to squeeze your sides.

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, not finding it in you to say no to him with the way he was trying to persuade you. “You choose the show. I’ll get the wine.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” the CEO responded, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched you make your way into the kitchen.

In the month that followed, you and Wonwoo continued to go on dates in secret whenever time allowed for it. The more time you spent with the CEO, the more you realized how much you liked the man. No, scratch that, you’d already fallen for him. Hard. And you only hoped that he felt the same. Well, with the way he was spoiling you with gifts and spending nearly all his free moments with you, you guessed that he felt the same way about you.

Despite how well things were going between the two of you, it didn’t take away the fact that dating in secret was tough and exhausting. On top of hiding it from your brother, you also needed to hide it from the public, which meant that the only dates you could truly enjoy in peace were the ones at home or those where the space was rented out for just the two of you.

You were aware that Mingyu knew about you and Wonwoo, which made you slightly envious of their friendship. It would have been nice if you had someone to share your secret with. But every time you thought of finally sharing your dating life with your close friends, that little voice in your head returned and convinced you that it would be catastrophic if anyone in your circle were to accidentally leak something to the press or your brother. It just wasn’t worth it.

That didn’t mean, however, that they didn’t notice a positive change in you. And you may have had to lie and say that it was because you were killing it at work – which wasn’t a lie, but that was beside the point.

Similarly, Wonwoo had told you that his friends had mentioned during the monthly get-together that they noticed a change in him too, though they weren’t sure what it was. Of course, Seungcheol took that opportunity to bring up the ‘date’ that Mingyu had set up for him and naturally, everyone wanted to know about the woman that got Wonwoo to put himself out there again.

And boy, was he glad that he hadn’t forgotten to tell Mingyu about the lie he’d told their older friend. Because the chef was quick to jump to his best friend’s aid and spewed enough bullshit about the mysterious woman to keep the others satisfied for a while.

Speaking of changes in behavior, your brother had been checking in on you way more than you were used to. Normally, you saw him once or twice a month – one of those times being the consultation that had become part of your routine and the other usually dinner at one of your favorite restaurants. However, in the span of just three weeks, Seungcheol had suddenly become much more involved in your life – much to your annoyance.

He now called you at least twice a week to ask if you wanted to meet up for dinner or drinks, and never failed to ask about your plans, in particular who you were meeting with. As if that was any of his business.

When you’d finally gotten sick of his new-found hobby, you asked him what his problem was. His response? He had more freetime and wanted to spend that time on family, meaning you. You immediately called his bullshit, even though you didn’t explicitly tell him that.

Thinking back on it, you were reminded of just a few weeks ago, when he’d suddenly showed up at your place without as much as a warning. At that time, he thought that you were dating someone because of the men’s shoes near your front door, so you assumed that this was his way of ‘investigating’ in the most subtle way. Obviously he wasn’t as slick as he thought he was.

You had also voiced your concerns to Wonwoo, and he admitted that he too had noticed some changes in his friend. For one, Seungcheol had suddenly shown up at the SEVENTEEN Gaming HQ a week after the monthly get-together. Of course, there was nothing wrong with visiting a fellow CEO, but what made it strange was that Seungcheol never stopped by without informing Hajoon or himself about it beforehand.

He’d claimed that he wanted to visit each HQ on a more regular basis to be more involved, which was strange in itself. Seungcheol was already as involved as he could be, and with more than enough work on his plate, Wonwoo couldn’t understand why he would want to add a bunch of random visits to that.

To confirm that he wasn’t going crazy and Seungcheol wasn’t just keeping tabs on him because he suspected something between you and him, Wonwoo checked in with Mingyu and several of the CEOs to inquire whether Seungcheol had paid them a visit too. Much to Wonwoo’s relief, the managing CEO had visited Mingyu and Soonyoung’s HQ the day before, and Jisoo and Minghao’s HQ the day after his visit to SEVENTEEN Gaming – also without so much as a notice.

In Wonwoo’s eyes, that was one less thing to worry about, especially since he had other things that demanded his attention. You didn’t know it yet, but for the past week, he’d been planning a surprise for you with Mingyu’s help.The two of you had been dating for about two months now and he wanted to do something special for you. Though you would probably tell him that he was already doing more than enough for you. It was true, but Wonwoo wanted to do this. He was utterly obsessed with you, in the most positive sense of the word. After all those years he’d spent single and too focused on his work, he now had someone that he could shower with all his pent-up love.

Chic, was the only word that came to mind when you spotted the car that came to pick you up on a balmy Saturday evening. All Wonwoo had told you was that he was taking you out and for you to dress fancy, whatever that meant. If you had to go by Wonwoo’s definition of fancy, it was probably okay to show up in a nice pair of jeans and a simple sweater. But you were glad that you’d gone for a more appropriate choice after seeing the driver, who was dressed in a black suit, exit the car.

Said man quickly rushed over to the other side upon your arrival and held the door open for you after greeting you with a small bow. You returned the gesture and slightly lifted the skirt of your ankle-length dress before you got yourself seated in the expensive vehicle.

During the twenty minute ride, your mind started to go over all the possibilities that would require you to dress up like this – especially seeing as Wonwoo liked to keep things casual. You just didn’t understand why he would force himself into a situation that would potentially make him feel uncomfortable. But it did get you all the more excited and thrilled the closer you got to your final destination.

When you’d reached your stop, the driver, who’s name was James, escorted you out of the car and into the large restaurant that was probably one of the best-rated restaurants in Seoul: Flavory Factory SEVENTEEN. You’d visited a couple of times with your brother and you had to admit that the food was absolutely delicious, so you definitely understood the hype. And you also understood why Wonwoo had asked you to dress up. Showing up to a Michelin star restaurant in a casual outfit would have been inappropriate and would guarantee a bunch of bizarre looks from both employees and other dinner guests.

James left you alone when you’d reached the entrance hall and motioned for you to continue your way to the large set of doors. There, you were greeted by a friendly-looking woman who no doubt worked at the restaurant.

“Right this way, Ms. Choi,” she smiled, opening the two doors that led to the dining area. No matter how many you’d come here, you were still amazed at the layout of the whole place. The ceilings were high and completely made out of glass, offering an incredible view of the sky, both during the day and at night – undoubtedly your favorite part about the restaurant. You were so focused on the stars that were now visible through the see-through ceiling, that you didn’t even notice the man that was observing your every move, completely mesmerized by your beauty.

“Wow, you look so stunning right now,” Wonwoo spoke, his voice slightly breathy at the sight of you. Your eyes settled on him almost immediately at the sound of his smooth but deep voice.

“W-Wonwoo?” you stuttered, eyes slightly widening at the sight that greeted you. The CEO who hated dressing up, had forced himself into a dark gray suit that looked so good on him that it made your heart skip a beat as you took it all in. “What’s all this? Why are you dressed in a suit?”

The man simply chuckled and reached out to grab your hands, pulling you closer to him in the process. “I thought I’d surprise you for once. What do you think?”

“You look handsome, but you always do,” you grinned. “Weren’t you the one who said you hated suits though?”

“Like I said, I can be persuaded for a special occasion or in this case, a special someone,” he mumbled, letting go of one of your hands to cup your cheek, the warmth of his palm causing your entire body to warm up.

“I see,” you hummed, moving your free hand to the black tie that had been neatly tied. “Can’t say that I’m not excited to see you in a suit.”

Wonwoo smirked, inching his face slightly closer so that his lips were nearly touching yours. “Don’t get used to it,” he whispered before stealing a kiss from you.

“A woman can dream,” you pouted, but let him pull you towards the table that had been set up for you anyway. Like the gentleman he was, he pulled out your chair and helped you sit down before taking his own seat. This was immediately followed by a waiter appearing at the table to offer the both of you some refreshments, followed by a short explanation of the menu, after which he left the two of you alone.

“So, how much convincing did it take you to let Mingyu close down his restaurant just for the two of us?”

Wonwoo smiled and shook his head as he reached across the table to grasp your hand gently. “None. It was actually his idea to host us here. He would have thrown a fit if I’d booked any other place.”

“Right, I forgot how much he supports all of this,” you giggled, remembering how the other CEO had once told you that he was you and Wonwoo’s number one fan. At this point, he was literally the only fan since no one else was supposed to know about it. Either way, you were happy that he was so supportive and willing to keep this whole thing a secret from everyone else. “I’m glad he suggested it though. The food is always amazing here.”

Wonwoo nodded in agreement. “And a plus is that his staff are discreet, so we don’t have to worry about toning it down for the sake of the public,” he added.

And that was true. You were able to enjoy the evening without having to think about your image. As the hours passed, the restaurant staff kept bringing delicious foods, up to the point where you'd lost count of how many different courses you'd already eaten. You felt bad for thinking it, but you were glad when they finally brought out the last dish, the dessert. If you continued eating more, you were pretty sure that your stomach would burst with the way your dress was already getting tighter and more uncomfortable against your body.

That said, you made sure to remember to thank Mingyu for putting all of this together at a later time.

“That was so delicious! But if I eat anything more, you're going to have to pick me up from the floor,” you laughed, using your napkin to wipe your mouth.

The man in front of you grinned boldly. “I'd gladly pick you up though.”

“Such a gentleman you are,” you responded, your lips forming into a smile.

“I’d like to think I am,” Wonwoo smirked and took that moment to get up from his seat, holding his hand out for you to take. Wondering what could be next, you accepted his hand and shuffled out of your seat to join him.

The nice thing about the restaurant was that there was a section that had been transformed into a little garden with lots of greenery, flowers and a small pond that housed several species of fish – perfect for a stroll after the dinner you’d just had.

“There is one more thing,” Wonwoo started when you’d stopped in front of the pond. You lifted your head in surprise, wondering what else he could have planned after the amazing night you had.

“What's that?”

“Well��” Wonwoo grabbed your other hand and pulled you closer to him. “I wanted to make tonight special for a reason. We’ve been dating for a while now, and I know that I’m not the best at expressing my feelings in words, but I want you to know that I’m so in love with you. Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me. I can’t stop thinking about you and I can’t wait to see you every time we’re apart.” He then chuckled while shaking his head. “ Hell, I lie to my friends about this whole thing and I don’t even feel bad about it if it means I get to have you just a little longer.”

“Wonwoo,” you whispered, your stomach filling with butterflies at his revelation. How lucky you felt to have this man all for yourself. And to hear him tell you that he felt the same way only amplified the love you felt for him.

“Be mine, please?” He was looking at you expectantly, almost as if he was afraid that you’d say no. Your lips slowly morphed into a big smile.

“I’d love that,” you nodded happily, moving your arms to wrap around his neck instead. Not giving him any time to respond, you pressed yourself flush against him and captured his lips into a kiss. He was more than happy to oblige, his own arms wrapping around your waist to keep you close in his own way – not like you would want to move away from any of this.

You were vaguely aware that you were having a makeout session in the middle of the restaurant, Mingyu’s staff in the front row seat, but you honestly couldn’t care less. It felt so good to know that Wonwoo had done all of this just to ask you to be his girlfriend. That on top of the fact that he’d put on a whole damn suit for you was already enough to score a bunch of brownie points with you.

“You ready to get out of here?” Wonwoo asked when you’d pulled away, his breathing slightly unstable as he tried to recover from the intense kiss you’d shared. Though the way he’d phrased the question was quite harmless, the way his eyes darkened and his hand had lowered to your ass just seconds ago informed you that he had some intentions that were far from innocent.

“Mine or yours?” you responded as your fingers played with the hairs on the back of his neck. That got Wonwoo into gear, one of his hands quickly reaching for yours before you’d even realized that he was no longer hugging your form.

“Whatever is closer,” he answered, already in the process of tugging you back to your table, where you’d left your clutch. A string of giggles escaped from your lips at the way he was rushing, your heel-covered feet trying to catch up with his speed.

The sound of a door slamming open startled the both of you and you turned your head slightly to identify the source of the commotion. What you found instantly sucked all the joy right out of your body. There, in the flesh, was no one other than your brother.

All three of you were frozen in shock, Wonwoo and yourself obviously for different reasons than your brother. The latter seemed to be in pure shock, his eyes scanning over the two of you for a few seconds before his expression morphed into one that could only be described as pure anger.

“What. The. Fuck. is going on here?” Seungcheol seethed, his eyes darting back and forth between you and Wonwoo.

“Hyung.”

“Cheol,” you spoke at the same time, quickly pulling your hand from Wonwoo’s grasp when you realized that you hadn’t let go of each other yet. Your head was spinning and you felt like you wanted to be sick, your stomach twisting uncomfortably at the situation you were currently in. This wasn’t how your brother was supposed to find out. How did he even know to come here?

“I asked. What the fuck is going on here?!”

“Cheol, please calm down. It’s not-”

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down, Y/N.” He then turned his attention to Wonwoo, his eyes shooting daggers at the man beside you. “You got some nerve,” he snorted, taking a few steps closer to the two of you. “You lied to my face about that bracelet, Wonwoo. I trusted you. I fucking trusted you and you go behind my back to mess with my sister? I can’t believe this.”

“Hyung…Shit, I’m sorry. I never meant for it to be like this,” Wonwoo responded, clenching his fists in frustration.

“Were you ever going to tell me, hmm?”

“Cheol,” you spoke carefully in the hope that he wouldn’t get even more angry. “It just happened okay? And we’re sorry for not telling you. But please, can’t you just let it go?”

“Let it go? My best friend and my own sister betrayed me and you want me to fucking let it go? No. Tell me, how long?”

“It’s not like that, Hyung. I swear. Can’t we just talk it out like adults?“ Wonwoo pleaded, but the older man was not having it.

“How. Long?” Seungcheol was now right in Wonwoo’s face and grabbing onto the blazer that he was wearing. Your brother was pissed and you seriously feared the worst for your boyfriend. The man beside you sighed in defeat, knowing that his friend wasn’t going to drop it before he got an answer.

“Two months,” Wonwoo mumbled softly, but it was loud enough for Seungcheol to hear. Your brother could only scoff, his jaw clenching while you held your breath.

“Cheol, please let go of him,” you finally begged, wanting Seungcheol as far away as possible from Wonwoo before he did something he would regret.

“Still defending him, huh?” Seungcheol laughed, but his laugh was void of joy. Still, he released Wonwoo’s blazer and patted him on the chest before turning his back to his friend. “You know, I think it’s funny because that was right around the time that you were supposed to take over that meeting for me.”

The next thing you know, Seuncheol turned around and delivered a blow straight to Wonwoo’s cheek, his glasses knocked off his face in the process. Your brother had moved so fast that it was already over before you realized what had happened.

“Cheol!” you shrieked, grabbing onto your boyfriend, who staggered a little bit due to the impact of the hit. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” You glared at your brother, who was just standing there with a frown on his face.

“I guess I deserved that,” the younger CEO gasped, holding onto the cheek that had taken the blow.

“No you didn’t. That was so uncalled for,” you grumbled, bending down to retrieve his poor glasses from the floor. “Are you okay?” you asked softly when you carefully placed them back onto his nose, momentarily forgetting about Seungcheol as you examined his cheek.

“I’m fine, don’t worry.” Another door slam is what pulled your attention away from the man in front of you, only to notice that your brother had left the room. Although things between you were bad, you were glad that he’d decided to leave before it could escalate even more. You would deal with him later and just focus on taking care of Wonwoo for now.

“It doesn’t look fine. It’s already bruising. We need to get ice on this.” You quickly called out for one of the staff members, who’d no doubt witnessed the whole thing. How embarrassing.

“I’m sorry. This is not how I wanted this night to end. He’s never going to forgive me for this. I’m fucked.” A desperate sigh left his lips after that, his eyes shifting to the floor in front of him.

You quickly shook your head as you accepted an ice pack from the woman who had escorted you to your table. “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault, Wonwoo. I don’t know how the hell he knew we were here, but he should have minded his business. Hold this.”

Wonwoo did exactly that and watched as you hurried over to your purse, digging into it until you’d found what you were looking for.

“I’m going to call Mingyu. He should know about this too,” you announced while scrolling through your contacts to look for his phone number. Wonwoo didn’t protest, and even if he would have, you probably would have called Mingyu anyway. The two of you needed all the support you could get right now, and it just so happened that Mingyu was the only one that you could fall back on.

Fortunately, it only took about fifteen minutes before Mingyu burst through the doors. From the looks of it, he’d quickly rushed from home to check on the both of you.

Upon seeing Wonwoo with an ice pack pressed against his cheek, the chef rushed over and demanded an in-detail report of what had gone down.

“Dude, you’re fucked,” was the first thing that came out of the CEOs mouth when you’d finished telling him the full story.

“Yah Mingyu! Not helping?” you scolded the big giant, which earned you a goofy grin in return.

“But it’s true. I ruined it for everyone just because I was being selfish,” Wonwoo agreed.

“Okay, it probably won’t be that bad. Hyung will come around eventually.”

“Did you miss the part where he punched me in the fucking face?”

“No, but you’re still alive! That’s something, right?” You just rolled your eyes, not understanding how he could still joke around at a time like this. Wonwoo, however, seemed to think that it was somewhat funny judging from the laughter that erupted from the man. After that came immediate regret in the form of a groan that got you out of your seat.

“Stop playing around before you hurt yourself even more,” you grimaced, forcing Wonwoo’s ice pack hand back against his cheek. When you were satisfied, you collected your purse and grabbed your phone once again to arrange a ride for yourself.

Wonwoo, who noticed that you’d opened the taxi app, was quick to latch his free hand onto your wrist to prevent you from leaving. “Wait, where are you going?”

“I need to deal with Seungcheol.”

“Just be careful, yeah?”

“Don’t worry. I can handle myself,” you smiled, gently squeezing his hand before turning your attention to the other man. “Mingyu, please m-”

“I’ll take good care of him, don’t worry!” he assured you, that goofy smile adorning his face once again.

After making sure that Wonwoo would be fine in Mingyu’s care, you collected all your things and made your way out of the restaurant and towards the car that had just arrived for you.

Although you wanted to stay with Wonwoo, you felt like you had no choice but to deal with this, because there was no way you were going to let your brother get away with the shit he pulled tonight.

The drive to Seungcheol’s place was way too short for your liking, mainly because you were dreading the whole thing. Every fight the two of you had ever had always ended in the two of you screaming at each other – because you were both stubborn and reactive, so why would it be any different tonight? If anything, you just wanted to make it clear to him that he needed to mind his own damn business and focus on that instead of trying to control your life.

After thanking the driver for his service, you slowly made your way to the main door of the apartment complex.

Going over the list of names, you finally pressed the one that had your brother’s name on it. The sound of the doorbell pierced the silence while you anxiously waited for any sign of your brother.

“Cheol, I know you’re there. Open the door, ” you spoke into the intercom, knowing that your brother would be able to hear you. He had to be there, you were sure of it. When Seungcheol was angry, he usually liked to blow off steam in the comfort of his own home without a bunch of eyes on him. That's how you knew to come here. But it seemed like your brother was being stubborn – so were you though.

You pressed the bell once again, and again and again, until the familiar buzzing sound echoed through the air, which was followed by the door finally opening after a few minutes of trying.

With annoyance running through your system, you made your way up to the top floor, eager to give your brother a piece of your mind.

The front door was slightly open when you arrived, so you took the liberty to let yourself inside the apartment and took off your heels. Your attention was drawn to some commotion coming from the left, so you sensed that your brother was in his home office doing god knows what.

Your thoughts were confirmed when you opened the door just in time to see Seungcheol slam his hands down onto his desk before snatching a glass filled with what you assumed was whiskey off it.

“Yah, Choi Seungcheol! What the hell is wrong with you?” He looked up at the sound of your voice, his frown deepening even more at the sight of you.

After taking a big gulp of his whiskey, he said, “Really? That’s the first thing you say after lying to me?”

“You need to apologize to Wonwoo! I can't believe you actually had the audacity to punch him. And for what?!” you exclaimed, crossing your arms over your chest.

Your brother only shrugged and leaned back against the table as he faced you. “He got what he deserved.” You were in shock at the way he went about this so nonchalantly, as if he hadn't just almost knocked down one of his closest friends.

“He’s your friend! Instead of being immature and resorting to violence, we could have talked it out like adults,” you snapped.

“Then explain to me why I had to find out through a fucking private investigator that the two of you were sneaking around behind my back,” Seungcheol spat, his eyes blazing with fire. You, on the other hand, were in complete disbelief at what you'd just heard. He did what now?

“You hired a private investigator to spy on us?! Are you serious?” You actually hoped that you'd simply misheard, because if what you'd heard was true, you feared that you didn't really know your brother as well as you thought you did.

“You think I wanted to do it like this? Would you have told me if I’d straight up asked you? Hmm?” Your brother looked at you expectantly, but you were completely speechless, your mouth opening and closing, but no words came out.

“That’s what I thought,” he huffed and turned back around to grab the whiskey glass.

“You’re out of your mind if you think that’s an okay thing to do. You went too far this time, Cheol.” You shook your head as you continued. “I have tolerated a lot of your shit over the years, but this…I'm done with you trying to control me.”

“Maybe if you'd told me the truth from the start, it wouldn't have ended like this,” Seungcheol retorted. You could only scoff, refraining yourself from rolling your eyes at his words. He knew god damn well that he would have tried anything in his power to stop you from seeing Wonwoo had he known from the start.

“Oh, please cut the crap. What's so wrong with me and Wonwoo being together? He treats me well and actually cares about me, probably more than anyone I've ever dated. Why can't you accept that?”

“It's not even about that! You two went behind my back and lied to my face for weeks…weeks, Y/N!”

“So what? We only did that because you're a fucking control freak! It doesn't give you the right to violate our privacy. If you can't even acknowledge that what you did was wrong, then how do you expect me to ever forgive you?” Your brother slammed his glass down at the words that left your mouth, the sound of the glass hitting the desk slightly startling you.

“Y/N,” he chuckled bitterly. “You forgiving me? How about you apologize to me first for the shit you pulled?”

“Hell no. I don’t regret anything.” Part of you probably felt a little bit guilty, but with how angry you were at that moment, there was no way you were going to apologize to Seungcheol…not when he was acting like an entitled bastard.

“Fine, whatever. As long as you understand that you and Wonwoo are over.” Your arms dropped to your sides in response, your fists clenching in frustration at your brother’s absurd demand. The fact that he had the guts to say that to you made you want to cry and laugh at the same time, because just who did he think he was to make that decision for you?

“You can't be for real, right? After all this you're still trying to tell me what to do? Get it through your thick skull that I'm not your damn puppet. I'm a grown ass woman and I can manage my own relationships just fine without your controlling ass.”

“Watch it, Y/N. I’m still your brother,” he sneered, obviously not liking the way you were speaking to him. No matter how bad your fights got, there had always been some type of mutual respect between the two of you – not this time though. No, this time, you wanted him to know that he was dead wrong and foul for violating your and Wonwoo’s privacy.

Whatever respect you had for him had vanished the moment he revealed the involvement of that private investigator. It also made you wonder what details of your personal life had been shared with your brother? Just the thought already made you feel sick and uncomfortable.

“Or what, Cheol? You're gonna hit me too? Seriously, go fuck yourself!” You were about ready to leave, knowing that there was no reasoning with him in this state and at this point, you didn’t even want to.

In an attempt to stop you from leaving, Seungcheol reached forward to grab onto your wrist, but you just ripped it away. “Don’t! And don’t contact me either. I can’t fucking stand you right now.”

You were on the verge of a breakdown, but you managed to compose yourself just long enough to give your brother a final glare before storming out of his home office, ignoring the way he was calling after you.

All you wanted after that nightmare was Wonwoo. You needed him, because he was the only person who could truly understand what you were going through right now – you were in this together after all. Mingyu had let you know through a text that he’d dropped his friend off at home, so that’s how you ended up in another taxi, this time on your way to Wonwoo’s place to tell him all about what had gone down with your brother.

“I’m not going tonight.”

“Hyung, come on! Everyone is looking forward to seeing you,” Mingyu pleaded as he stepped inside his best friend’s home.

“I know one person who isn’t,” Wonwoo retorted, not even waiting for the chef to take off his shoes before he started making his way towards the living room.

Mingyu, however, was quick to follow behind him. “So what? Does that mean you have to skip everyone else too?”

“It’s too soon, Mingyu.” He remembered the night that you got back from your conversation with Seungcheol all too well. The moment he’d let you inside his house, you broke down crying in his arms. This was followed by you telling him everything that had been said between the two of you. To say that Wonwoo was shocked would have been an understatement. Never did he think that his best friend would go so far as to hire a PI to find out the truth. He had expected the screaming, the cussing and even the blow to his face, but this is the thing that had caught him off guard. Wonwoo didn’t know how to feel about it, because he understood where Seungcheol was coming from, but then again, the whole revelation made him want to avoid the managing CEO even more.

On top of that, Wonwoo had also been distancing himself from you ever since you left his place that day, mainly because he felt terrible. He couldn’t help but blame himself for the whole argument between you and your brother, and he felt like being in your presence would only make everything worse for everyone.

Of course he hadn’t told you how he felt, because you would definitely reassure him that he shouldn’t feel responsible for anything, which is why Wonwoo did what he thought was best: keep his feelings to himself and distance himself – at least until he figured out what to do.

“You can’t avoid each other forever. We all work together, so you’ll have to face him eventually. Better to just rip that bandaid off.”

Wonwoo sighed at that statement. “I know that, but how the hell am I going to hide this?” He turned around and pointed at his cheek, which was now a blue-greenish color after a week had passed. “And I’m not really looking forward to adding another bruise to the collection.”

“Just wear a mask and play it off as a cold. Or…how about you tell everyone what’s going on?” Mingyu suggested, but Wonwoo was quick to shake his head.

“No way. I’m not involving anyone in this drama when I don’t even know how to deal with it myself.”

“If you don’t show up, the others are definitely going to start asking questions. Do you want that instead?”

A frustrated groan left Wonwoo’s lips at that, the truth of Mingyu’s words sinking in. He had a point. Seungcheol wasn’t the only nosy one out of their group – mainly Seungkwan and Jeonghan, who had a tendency to snoop around for juicy stories. It wasn’t in the way that Seungcheol was in everyone’s business, but it was bad enough for Wonwoo to admit his defeat. Besides, it wasn’t like not showing up was going to make the whole thing go away.

“Fine, I’ll go. Happy?”

“Very,” the other CEO grinned. “ Now go get ready. We leave in ten,” he announced before plopping himself down onto the couch.

“I’m gonna regret this,” Wonwoo mumbled to himself as he made his way towards the stairs.

Forty-five minutes later, the CEO pair found themselves seated around Seungkwan’s large dining table with the rest of their friends, minus the managing CEO. Wonwoo hated to admit it, but he was relieved that Seungcheol was slightly delayed, because it gave him time to mentally prepare himself. The goal was to not create a scene with the other CEOs present, so he counted on Mingyu to help with that. As long as Wonwoo didn’t have to sit next to Seungcheol, there was a chance that he’d make it through this get-together without another fist in his face.

Unfortunately, that worry-free moment was short-lived when he showed up ten minutes later. Wonwoo, who had been joking around with Mingyu, Chan and Jeonghan, felt himself tense up at his sudden presence. It was weird…seeing him in this type of setting when it was only a week ago that Seungcheol had caught him with you. It made Wonwoo wonder if he even wanted to be here, because he sure as hell didn’t.

Without intending to, Wonwoo’s eyes met Seungcheol’s eyes for just a brief moment, but it was long enough for Wonwoo to feel the anger radiating through the CEO’s eyes. The smile that had adorned Seungcheol’s face only seconds ago vanished almost immediately as he spotted the man who’d betrayed his trust.

Wonwoo felt his breath hitch in his throat in response, anxiety slowly seeping into his body as he tried to keep his composure. Mingyu, being the good friend he was, probably sensed his friend’s distress and placed a comforting hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder, as if telling him that it would all be fine.

Wonwoo was glad that dinner was pretty uneventful, apart from the occasional glances that Seungcheol kept throwing his way – which he tried to ignore as best as he could. It did help that the older man was seated far away from Wonwoo, all the way at the end of the large oval table. However, that all changed when Jun and Vernon suggested that they should play some games.

They moved to Seungkwan’s lounge room, where they opted for a game of cards with a couple of drinks. Wonwoo tried to have fun and focus on the game and his friends, but it was hard when the man sitting across from him kept staring right into his soul every few minutes or so. And sadly enough, Wonwoo wasn’t the only one who noticed the tension in the room.

“Okay, something is going on here,” Seungkwan finally stated, peaking everyone’s interest. Wonwoo, however, almost whined in frustration.

“You’re right. Something weird is going on,” Minghao agreed.

“And why does Seungcheol Hyung look like he wants to kill someone?” Chan questioned at the sight of Seungcheol’s murderous facial expression.

“Maybe because I do,” the man in question answered in a low voice, his eyes flashing to Wonwoo. There we go.

“Wow, what the hell is that? What’s going on?” Jisoo asked, no doubt referring to the look Seungcheol had directed at Wonwoo.

“Why don’t you ask the gaming pro over there,” Seungcheol spoke and motioned to Wonwoo, who cringed at all the attention he was suddenly getting. This is exactly what he had been afraid of. If only he hadn’t let Mingyu convince him to come.

“Hyung, let’s not do this here, yeah?” Mingyu interfered in an attempt to defuse the situation.

“You’re not any better, Mingyu. Trying to cover his ass and supporting the whole thing behind my back.”

“Are we being pranked? Because this is not really happening now, is it?” Jihoon asked, looking profoundly confused.

“Oh, I wish it was,” Wonwoo mumbled from behind his mask before he switched his attention to Seungcheol. “Hyung, can we please not do this right now? Let’s not involve everyone.”

The man just laughed and stood up from his seat. “Why not? Afraid that everyone is going to see you in a different light when they hear the truth?”

“Hyung, come on,” Mingyu tried to persuade his Hyung before it was too late. But, Seungcheol was not in the mood to listen to the chef, not when he was all worked up.

“No, Mingyu. Don’t even try to stop me. I think everyone deserves to know that Wonwoo over there,” he pointed at Wonwoo, “went behind my back to date my sister and he thought he could get away with it.”

“Excuse me?! Your sister Y/N?” Seokmin’s eyes were wide open in shock, his eyes shifting to Wonwoo instantly. He wasn’t alone, because very soon, the other ten CEOs were also staring at him, some with their mouths open after hearing that mind-boggling news.

“Nah, that can’t be right. Wonwoo Hyung and Y/N? Never,” Seungkwan shook his head as if he refused to believe that piece of information.

“I’m speechless,” Vernon said after a few seconds of silence. Jeonghan, who was sitting right beside Wonwoo, playfully hit the man’s shoulder and chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Yah, Wonwoo. They’re joking, right? You didn’t actually make a move on Y/N?” Wonwoo didn’t have anything to say to that, mainly because it was obviously clear to everyone by now that it was, in fact, not a joke but very much true. He just wanted to disappear and pretend like it had all never happened.

“Wait wait wait! Don’t tell me you and his sister actually…you know…?” Seungkwan asked nervously, his eyes flicking between the two friends that were in the center of the dispute.

“He’s too chicken to open his mouth now with all of you here, but he sure was okay with sneaking around with her for two months. Oh, and mind you, he lied to you too,” Seungcheol butted in.

“Cut him some slack, Hyung. He’s already miserable enough because of the whole thing. You punching him in the face was punishment enough,” Mingyu huffed, coming to Wonwoo’s defense once again.

A gasp sounded from Chan. “What?! Is that why you’re wearing the mask? Because Hyung beat the shit out of you?” That was immediately followed by a smack on the head plus a scolding from Jihoon. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Shit, Cheol. You hit him? Are you out of your mind?” Jisoo frowned, obviously not amused with the man’s actions.

“Hell yes I did and he deserved it. My own sister won’t even talk to me because she’d rather defend this backstabber!” At that, Wonwoo stood up from his seat. He was not having it this time, especially because it was you he was talking about now.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Hyung. The reason she’s not talking to you is because you hired a fucking PI to dig into our lives instead of coming to us like a normal person would have! Who the hell does that?!”

Silence dominated the room after yet another revelation that left the other CEOs too stunned to speak. No one had expected their monthly night of fun to turn into a reality TV drama.

“I gave you two plenty of chances to tell me, but you left me with no other choice.”

“That’s bullshit, Hyung. There were more than enough alternatives to choose from,” Wonwoo scowled.

“Alright, I think it’s time to put a stop to this. We’re all friends, there’s no need to be getting this worked up,” Soonyoung finally stepped in between the two CEOs, but Seungcheol was quick to go around him and got in Wonwoo’s face before anyone could stop him.

“Hyung, don’t!” Mingyu called out, already making a move to pull the two of them apart.

“No! I need to make this clear first,” Seungcheol snapped, shaking off Mingyu’s hand from his shoulder. Truth was, Wonwoo had no idea what he was getting himself into. For all he knew, he’d be leaving Seungkwan’s house with another bruise.

“I’m telling you Wonwoo, if you want this to work out between us, you better break it off with Y/N. I’m serious, it’s SEVENTEEN World or Y/N, your choice. Choose wisely,” was the final thing that came out of Seungcheol’s mouth before he swiftly turned around and stormed out of the room, leaving behind a room full of CEOs with a bunch of burning questions.

After their managing CEO had left the house, Wonwoo was literally bombarded with questions, up to the point where Mingyu was forced to chair the ‘Q&A’ to prevent total chaos – because what else to expect from a room full of men?

Despite the severity of it all, Wonwoo wanted to be transparent with his friends and explain to them why he’d done what he did. Sure, some were slightly offended that he hadn’t trusted them, but most of them were just shocked that it was Wonwoo, the CEO who didn’t like to date, who had managed to capture your attention.

And of course, once all the serious questions were over and done with, the teasing comments started, initiated by no one other than Yoon Jeonghan and Hong Jisoo, SEVENTEEN World’s infamous instigators. The poor CEO endured it all, but he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed it a little bit.

Yet, all of this didn’t take away the fact that Wonwoo had to make a difficult decision – and he didn’t know if he was going to like the outcome.

Ever since you left Wonwoo’s place that day, you hadn’t heard from him again. That was now two weeks ago. At first, you guessed that he probably needed some time to think things through, which was completely understandable. That’s why you’d kept your attempts to reach him to a minimum, with the occasional call or text message.

But then a week passed, and you still hadn’t heard anything from his side. It was just like the time you’d been waiting for him to initiate a second date and it drove you insane.

In the week that followed, when you felt like you’d given him enough time to sort things out, you probably called him about a dozen times and left him numerous text messages, but all to no avail.

From an outsider’s point of view, it must have seemed excessive and perhaps slightly bordering on stalker behavior, but you were slowly growing more and more restless as the days passed.

You just couldn’t help it. Wonwoo occupied your mind 24/7 and it frustrated you that he’d removed himself from you so easily, especially when he’d made it pretty clear to you that he was in love with you – you couldn’t just forget about that little fact.

All of this had just come at such an unfortunate time. Why did your brother have to show up when he did? He just had to ruin what would have been the best day of your life, because that was what he knew to do best. Thinking about it was enough to get you fired up again.

Speaking of the devil that was your brother, you’d been vehemently ignoring him ever since you’d stormed out of his apartment. In his attempts to contact you, he’d texted and called you, but you’d simply blocked his number in response.

You should have known that he wouldn’t give up that easily, which is why it didn’t come as a surprise when he came knocking at your door one night – for obvious reasons, you refused to open the door and let him ring your doorbell for about fifteen minutes before he gave up and left.

To make sure you could avoid him completely, you’d even gone as far as to arrange a replacement for your monthly legal consultation, because you didn’t think you’d be able to keep it together if you had to face him, not even for the sake of business. Maybe that would finally make your brother realize that he really fucked up this time.

Currently, you were holding your phone to your ear, anxiously waiting for the recipient to pick up.

“Thank you for calling SEVENTEEN Gaming. This is Park Hajoon speaking, what can I do for you?” Wonwoo’s secretary spoke through the phone.

“Hajoon, hi! It’s uh, Y/N. I was wondering if Wonwoo is available.” You felt completely embarrassed that you had actually called his office in the hope of speaking to him during your lunch break, but you were desperate at this point.

“Oh, hello Ms. Choi. I-I’m sorry, but I’m afraid he’s busy right now. I can leave a message for you?” the secretary offered, but you simply sighed in defeat.

“Just let him know that I called. That’s all, thank you,” you thanked her, the disappointment already beginning to settle in.

Of course, because what were you thinking? If he was really avoiding you then he obviously would have told his secretary to tell you that he was busy if you were to call.

While trying to finish your lunch, your eyes fell on your phone once again. What if…

Before your mind could catch up and prevent you from doing anything stupid, you unlocked your phone and searched for that one person in your contact list – possibly the only person who’d know how to help you reach Wonwoo.

“Y/N? I’m kinda busy right now,” Mingyu’s surprised voice sounded, the background noise immediately giving away that he was in a packed kitchen.

You were quick to jump in, afraid that he might hang up before you got the chance to ask him. “Mingyu, please. I need to talk to him. It’s been two weeks!”

“I know, I know. But he won’t even talk to me about it though, so I don’t know if I can help you.” You almost felt like crying at this point. If he didn’t confide in his best friend, then how were you going to get through to him?

“I just need one chance to see him. Isn’t there anywhere he goes often?” It was silent for a moment, and you were afraid that Mingyu had hung up the call. But when you checked the screen, you were relieved to see that he was still there.

“Well, I guess you could try the arcade? You know, the one you went to on your first date? He usually goes there to relieve stress, but I’m not sure he’ll be there, Y/N.” The arcade! How could you have forgotten about that place?

“No, that’s perfect. Thanks, Mingyu!” you thanked the CEO and said your goodbye before ending the call. Tonight, you were going to pay a visit to the arcade and hopefully see Wonwoo there.

With your newfound determination, you made your way to the arcade when your workday had come to an end. As you entered the building for the second time, you immediately noticed the change in vibe from the last time you’d been here.

On your first date, the place had been completely deserted since Wonwoo had reserved the whole space for the two of you, but it was the complete opposite now. The whole hall was filled with people, both young and old, all having fun trying out the various games – it was Friday night, so that was to be expected.

You were starting to lose hope after spending two hours there, still no sign of the SEVENTEEN Gaming CEO. Even after making a few rounds and checking out the individuals wearing face masks and caps, you had to come to the conclusion that Wonwoo wasn’t here…and probably wouldn’t be tonight. After the third hour, you finally disposed of your empty cup and collected your things so that you could make your way home.

—

Wonwoo slammed his car door shut and locked it with the click of a button before he adjusted his disguise. For a second, he thought of going home to play some games instead, but he reminded himself that he’d just finished a tiring day full of meetings with stakeholders and needed something to relax him, something to distract him – mainly from you.

He was painfully aware that you’d been trying to get a hold of him and he felt like a complete dick for going radio silent, but Wonwoo wasn’t good with these types of situations. He had no doubt that you hated him right now. All you wanted was to talk and here he was, ignoring the woman he’d confessed his love to not too long ago.

Wonwoo wanted to work this whole thing out, but he didn’t have the slightest clue where to start. The only scenarios he could come up with ended with both of you in pain and he wasn’t ready to face any of that yet. Distracting himself with games was the only thing that gave him some sort of comfort right now. Not even Mingyu, who’d offered his help already more than once.

The CEO was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice the figure that was about to exit the building just as he wanted to enter, causing the two to bump into each other.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, not even looking at the person that had bumped into him.

“Wonwoo?” Fuck. That voice. “Is it really you?” His eyes were automatically drawn to the woman standing in front of him, which confirmed to him that it was no one other than you he’d bumped into.

“Y/N,” he breathed, his body heating up at the dread that suddenly took over his body upon seeing you so unexpectedly.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” Your tone was stern, but he inferred from your sullen eyes that you were more sad than angry.

“Come with me,” he said, reaching down to take your hand in his to tug you in the direction of his car. If you were going to do this, he didn’t want to be anywhere near the public.

“Where are we going?” you finally asked when Wonwoo motioned for you to buckle up.

“Somewhere private,” was the only thing that Wonwoo said. For the rest of the minutes that Wonwoo spent driving, no words were spoken. He didn’t really know what you were thinking, but in his case, he wasn't sure what to say to you, not after ignoring all your calls.

He finally stopped at the spot where he’d taken you to stargaze before, knowing that you could probably have a conversation there without the risk of anyone catching you.

“So, are you going to tell me what’s been happening these past two weeks?” you asked impatiently, now standing right in front of him and way too close for Wonwoo’s liking. You smelled so good, too good even. Any closer and he’d completely forget about the serious talk you were supposed to have.

“Y/N…”

“Wait! Let me at least see your face while we do this,” you pouted, your hands reaching up to unhook the mask from behind his ears. “There,” you whispered, your hands coming to a rest on his shoulders as you looked at him with expectant eyes. Shit, Wonwoo really didn’t want to do this.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about how to have this conversation with you,” he started, reaching for his shoulders to lower your hands in an attempt to minimize any sort of physical contact with you. “To be honest, I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

Your hopeful expression dropped and was replaced by a frown at his action. “I don’t like where this is going,” you responded, your eyes narrowing.

“I’m sorry. All I’ve been doing is avoid you because I’m too scared to deal with this situation.” Wonwoo shook his head and ran one of his hands through his hair. “You deserve so much better.”

“I admit, it’s frustrating when you don’t talk to me,” you sighed. “But, I want to be with you. I’m not joking when I saw that I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I lo-”

“Don’t. Don’t say it,” Wonwoo quickly interrupted you, knowing that whatever you were going to say next would make this even harder.

“Why not? Don’t you feel the same?” you asked softly, reaching forward to grab his hand but Wonwoo was quick to prevent it.

“It doesn’t matter how we feel, because this is bigger than us. I have to choose,” he grimaced, feeling a slight tightening of his chest at the words that came out of his mouth.

“And you’re not choosing me? It’s my brother who’s making you choose, right?” you chuckled bitterly, your fists clenched into fists.

“I don’t want this either, but I have to think of my company, my employees and the whole of SEVENTEEN World. If I can’t fix this with your brother, we’re putting other people at risk.”

“I know…I’m just being selfish. It shouldn’t have to be a choice though. Seungcheol is being an ass and he knows it. He’s still trying to control my life even when we’re not on speaking terms.”

You were trying to be strong, but you couldn’t stop the few tears that fell from your eyes, staining your cheeks with the salty liquid. This was followed by the sound of your sniffing and some more tears, until you were full-on sobbing.

Wonwoo absolutely hated being the reason that you were crying. He didn’t mean to upset you, but he had to rip the bandaid off before he chickened out.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” he mumbled over and over again, not being able to refrain himself from wrapping you in his embrace at the sight of your crying form.

“It’s n-not fair,” you gasped, burying yourself into Wonwoo’s leather jacket while you had him in a tight squeeze.

“I know,” he agreed, making the mistake of looking down at the exact moment you lifted your head to look at him. Even with your eyes all red and your cheeks wet with tears, Wonwoo still thought that you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. God, how much he would miss this.

“Y/N,” he warned softly when you reached up to bring your face closer to his.

“Just one more kiss,” you begged, pressing your body even further against him. How was he supposed to say no to that?

“Fuck,” he whispered right before cupping your cheek and connecting your lips before he could regret it.

Wonwoo made sure to pour everything into that kiss, wanting you to know just how much he cared about you. It was both messy and hasty, with your tongues clashing together and your hands exploring each other’s bodies as if trying to remember everything about the other within the short time that you had. Because after tonight, you would both have to go back to reality – the one where you were no longer together.

You felt heartbroken. You felt sick. You felt miserable. Following your breakup with Wonwoo, every new day felt like a punishment, with you literally having to force yourself out of bed every morning. And every time you drove to work, you had to mentally prepare yourself for the letters plastered onto the SEVENTEEN Gaming HQ building that would be staring you in the face, mocking you and reminding you that you couldn’t have the one thing you truly wanted.

Even at work, the change in you was noticeable. For the first time in your time at the Kang Group, you were slacking, missing crucial deadlines and mixing up appointments, much to the surprise of your colleagues and your boss. One of your best qualities was your ability to completely separate your personal life from your work life, and you’d thought so too, which is why it frustrated you that this whole situation affected you so much.

It eventually got so bad that your boss had you take the next few weeks off from work, because you weren’t able to focus on anything other than feeling miserable.

You weren’t sure if being away from work was the solution to your problems. It only left you with more time to think and the more you thought about everything, the more you felt yourself begin to spiral down.

Your friends had tried to drag you out of the house on more than one occasion in an effort to cheer you up. They were aware that you’d gone through a breakup – because you’d told them that much, but they didn’t know who it was. You appreciated them for organizing various activities such as a spa day, a movie night and drinks at your favorite bar, but those distractions only lasted for a short time. Each time, after coming home to an empty apartment, you went right back to wallowing in self-pity.

The situation with Seungcheol hadn’t gotten any better either. He was still blocked and knocking at your door from time to time, but you couldn’t care less. Seeing his face would only make you mad and the end result would no doubt be another screaming match. Maybe one day you could forgive him, but not when everything was still so fresh.

You opted to spend most of your time alone, either sleeping or killing time watching shows with the occasional tub of ice cream. But despite trying to remain strong as the days passed, you were constantly reminded of how you and Wonwoo used to watch these types of shows together, which then unleashed another breakdown that resulted in you crying for hours.

You just wanted to stop feeling like this, mainly because it was unfamiliar and so unlike you to have a total meltdown over a man. If this continued any longer, you’d for sure lose your mind.

—

Wonwoo wasn’t doing that much better than you. He felt just as miserable, if not worse. But instead of taking time off from work, he focused all his attention on his business. Every free moment was spent on the next game release, all to keep him distracted from what he was actually feeling.

He was like a machine in the weeks that followed, showing up to work early, working on his to-do list and leaving when everyone had already left the building hours ago. It was clear to everyone that something was going on with the CEO that was normally so passionate about his work.

The enthusiasm with which Wonwoo generally went into meetings – especially the ones revolving around the creation process of new games – had been replaced by an indifferent attitude that his team and in particular, his personal secretary, Park Hajoon, didn’t know how to deal with. They obviously didn’t want to pry, but whatever it was, they hoped that he could deal with it and go back to the old one asap.

The next get-together was also skipped by Wonwoo, simply because he was not in the mood to pretend like everything was fine when it was clearly not. Being the good friends they were, everyone except Seungcheol, made sure to check in on him at least once.

Wonwoo assumed that they knew about what had gone down, especially because he looked like the life had been sucked out of him, but also the fact that Seungcheol was no longer giving the man dirty looks and actually managed to be cordial during their quarterly business meeting.

Mingyu, who’d watched his best friend beat himself up again and again over the past few weeks, finally had enough one day. If anyone was going to get Wonwoo out of his slump, it would be him.

“Hyung, you need to get out of your house tonight,” Mingyu started as soon as Wonwoo had answered the call.

“I think I’m just gonna stay in tonight. It’s late,” Wonwoo sighed, his gaze drifting to the large clock that was hanging on the wall. Technically, 9PM wasn’t that late, but the man couldn’t be bothered.

“You say that literally every time. You haven’t left the house for anything other than work for the past few weeks!”

“Exactly, because there’s no other reason to leave the house.”

“You can’t be this pessimistic for the rest of your life, Hyung. Come to my restaurant and I’ll cook for you. We can have some food and drinks,” the chef suggested.

Wonwoo, who’d only eaten two packs of ramen today, was tempted by the offer. But then again, it also meant that he had to leave the house and deal with Mingyu’s nagging. “I think I’ll pa-”

“No you’re not. I swear to god, Hyung. I know for a fact that you haven’t had a proper meal in days and I’m not having it. Go put on something decent and be here in 30.” This was not how he’d planned to spend the rest of the night.

“Mingyu, what about ‘I think I’m just going to stay in tonight’ don’t you understand?”

“I understood every word, but I just don’t give a shit and I’m not joking this time, Hyung. Get changed, get into your car and be here. If you’re not here in 30 minutes, I’m going to ask Minghao to lend me his bodyguards. I bet they’ll have no issue dragging you out of that house,” Mingyu threatened.

Upon hearing his best friend’s words, Wonwoo decided that it was in his best interest to take his words seriously, because Minghao would for sure have no problem with Mingyu using his bodyguards if it meant getting Wonwoo out the house. On top of that, he’d seen and met Minghao’s intimidating bodyguards – these guys were trained professionals, so he wasn’t about to risk them paying him a visit at home.

“I’ll be there, so you can stop with those threats,” Wonwoo spoke and released a deep sigh. He better not regret this like that one time he had a confrontation with Seungcheol in front of all their other friends.

“Wise choice, Hyung. Just look for Aecha when you get here. She’ll wait for you in the entrance hall and take you to me,” Mingyu explained, referring to the waitress that had also served you and him on your final date. “And don’t even think about ditching! Remember, the bo-”

“Yeah yeah, the bodyguards. Got it, Mingyu. I’m hanging up now,” Wonwoo announced and ended the call, not even bothering to wait for his friend’s response.

Wonwoo felt conflicted as he parked his car in front of Flavor Factory SEVENTEEN – the place wasn’t exactly triggering happy memories for him. The last time he was here, it had ended in a complete disaster. The date that was supposed to have ended with him taking you home and showing you how much he loved you, only left him with a bruised cheek and a broken heart instead.

But despite Wonwoo really not wanting to be here right now, he would try to push his feelings aside for tonight and enjoy spending some quality time with Mingyu. Ever since he’d broken things off with you, he’d been distancing himself from everyone, including Mingyu, the one person that had supported him through it all.

Whereas Wonwoo usually shared all his problems with the chef, he had refrained himself from doing so this time. The man had already been dragged into this whole mess because of Wonwoo’s selfishness, so he wasn’t about to bother Mingyu with his relationship issues, especially not when he was in the middle of preparing the launch of a new food item.

But he also realized that pushing his best friend away wasn’t going to solve anything. That’s why Wonwoo fought the urge to turn around and return home as he made his way inside – and again, the thought of being ambushed by three bodyguards really didn’t sound all that great.

Just as Mingyu had told him over the phone, Aecha was waiting for Wonwoo in the entrance hall.

“Aecha?” Wonwoo approached the waitress, who kindly greeted him and motioned for him to follow her. Instead of going through the restaurant, which was no doubt packed with all the cars outside, she took him through a hallway that was accessible to staff only.

“Make yourself comfortable, Sir. Mr. Kim will be with you shortly,” the woman spoke as she guided him into one of the restaurant’s private dining rooms. It was a little on the smaller side, so Wonwoo guessed that it was normally used for couples or groups up to four people.

“Thank you,” Wonwoo said to the waitress and watched her close the door behind herself. While waiting for the other CEO to show up, he admired some of the art that had been displayed in the room – some paintings and sculptures that probably cost a fortune.

The sound of the door opening just a few minutes later is what pulled Wonwoo’s attention away from the piece of Korean art that he’d been inspecting. And what awaited him was definitely not what he’d been expecting.

“Wonwoo? What are you doing here? I’m supposed to meet Mingyu here,” Seungcheol’s confused voice echoed through the small room after Aecha had closed the door once again, this time leaving him with an unexpected guest.

“Aish, god damn Mingyu,” Wonwoo mumbled, realizing that the two of them had been set up by the younger CEO. “I guess we fell for one of his tricks.”

Seungcheol scoffed at that, seemingly thinking it over before shaking his head and taking a seat at the dining table.

Wonwoo didn’t know how to feel about this situation. Both of them hadn’t had a one-on-one in a long time and they weren’t exactly on the best of terms, so why the hell did Mingyu think that it would be a good idea to put the two of them together…in a small room?

“You look like shit,” Seungcheol stated after observing Wonwoo for a few seconds.

I wonder why. “Thanks, I’m aware,” the man responded as he took a seat on the opposite side of the table.

The silence that followed was deadly, with both of the men not quite knowing what to say. None of them had prepared for this, so it felt awkward to be in such an intimate space together.

Were they going to just stare at each other this whole time? Or were they going to talk? And even if they did, were they going to fight again?

Also, where the hell was Mingyu? Had his plan really been to just drop them in a room and leave them to figure it out themselves?

Wonwoo's thoughts were interrupted by the door opening once again, this time revealing no one other than the culprit himself, Kim Mingyu.

“Hyungs! Glad you could make it. How do you like the surprise?” A smirk was plastered onto his face as he rolled in a cart full of delicious-looking foods.

“Really funny, Mingyu. I don't recall you telling me there would be another person joining us. I thought you wanted to discuss some important business,” Seungcheol responded, already looking quite annoyed.

Mingyu only shrugged as he began to move the food from the cart onto the table. “Sorry, Hyung. I know you wouldn't have shown up otherwise, so I had to think of something.”

“So much for quality time,” Wonwoo mumbled quietly, mentally cursing at himself for having left the house tonight.

“Stop being such a grump.” Mingyu nudged Wonwoo, who could only glare at the man that was now towering over him. That earned him an eye roll from the chef. “The two of you need to stop this act and make up already. It's driving everyone nuts! We don't want to see you fight or be miserable. What happened happened, and there's no turning back, only moving forward from here. That's why I tricked you into coming here tonight. And no, you're not leaving this room before you've eaten some food and made some progress.”

“Do we really not have a say in this?” Wonwoo asked, shifting his gaze from the food to Mingyu, who gave him a pointed look.

“No, you don’t. And this better not end in another fight either. Minghao’s bodyguards are on speed dial,” the chef warned. “Now, enjoy the food and fix this shit.” That was the last they heard from him before he left the room, leaving the two CEOs to deal with their problems.

“Well…” Seungcheol cleared his throat when it was just the two of them again. “I guess we better dig in, huh?”

Wonwoo nodded slowly as it started to sink in that he wouldn't be able to get out of this anytime soon. “I guess so,” he replied, his eyes scanning the various food items on the table.

Mingyu really had gone all out for the two of them – the man never came to play when it came to food. Among the variety of dishes was a rose spaghetti with shrimp, a big bowl of Jajangmyeon, a plate full of beef bulgogi, a bunch of freshly made banchan and many more things that honestly made Wonwoo’s mouth water.

His stomach growled involuntarily, as if his body was indicating that those two packs of ramen had certainly not been enough. He should have eaten more, yes, but in his state, it had been the last thing on his mind.

“Aren’t you going to take it?” Seungcheol asked, his voice cutting through the silence. Only then, Wonwoo noticed that he was holding out a plate with an assortment of the food that was on the table.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks, Hyung.” He was quick to take the plate, feeling a little surprised at the CEO’s gesture.

The two ate in silence for the next few minutes, the sound of chopsticks and spoons hitting the plates and bowls echoing through the room. But different from the uncomfortable silence that had dominated the room before, it was now a pleasant silence. In Wonwoo’s opinion, the arrival of the food was the main reason for that change.

“I’m sorry I punched you.” Seungcheol was the first to speak again, causing Wonwoo to freeze in his spot. Was he actually apologizing? He couldn’t believe that he was actually taking the first step, and he truly sounded like he was sorry.

“It’s…whatever. I would have punched me too,” Wonwoo finally said when he’d gotten over the initial shock.

“I admit, you were wrong for going behind my back, but still, it wasn’t okay of me to do that. I should have gone about it a different way and I guess I let my irrational side take over,” Seungcheol explained.

Wonwoo understood why Seungcheol had punched him when he did, because he couldn’t classify himself as innocent in all of this. He did break his trust and date you while knowing fully well that there would be consequences. So, despite the shit that his friend had pulled, Wonwoo felt like he needed to own up to his mistakes too.

“The same goes for the PI that I hired to spy on you and my sister,” Seungcheol continued. “I never meant to invade your privacy like that, but when I saw that bracelet…I was just so angry at the thought of you two together that I wasn’t thinking clearly and didn’t care what it took to confirm what I’d seen. But after seeing the effect it had on you and Y/N, I now realize that I went a little too far. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is I’m sorry,” the CEO sighed.

“I appreciate that, Hyung. I really do, thank you. And I guess I should also apologize to you for going behind your back. That was…really wrong of me. And I don’t have any good excuse for it either. We just clicked so well during that meeting that I threw all my morals aside at that moment. And then it only escalated from there with no way of going back. I never meant for anyone to get hurt,” Wonwoo shook his head. Just thinking back to the night you’d been crying your eyes out in his arms caused his chest to clench again.

“Oh you were dead wrong. I w-”

“Wait, Hyung. I’m not finished yet. I should have told you the truth from the start…”

“You shouldn’t have asked her out to begin with,” Seungcheol interrupted, a frown making its way onto his face.

Wonwoo slapped a hand against his forehead at that statement. Fair enough. “Right, I shouldn’t have, but I did. And then we got to know each other better and we developed feelings. I can’t lie and say that I’m fine, even after almost a month has passed. Hell, I’m sure neither of us are fine because we were both a mess the night we broke it off. But I just want you to know that I respect you and value you as a business partner, and of course as my friend.”

Seungcheol slowly nodded, taking in everything that Wonwoo had just told him. “So do I, and I never wanted for us to fight. I’m willing to put it behind us if you are too, not only for the sake of the company, but for both of our sakes too.” This was followed by Seungcheol extending his arm across the table.

Wonwoo let out a small laugh before shaking the hand in front of him. “Hell yes. All this awkwardness was killing me.”

“Same here. Man, guess we need to thank Mingyu after all,” the other man grinned before taking another bite from the food on his plate.

“I guess we do,” Wonwoo smiled, feeling somewhat happy that they’d been able to squash their beef.

It was slowly starting to feel like old times again, and although Wonwoo knew that it was going to take some time to move past the whole fiasco, he was glad that the tension between the two of them had settled after that long overdue talk.

Mingyu even came to check in on the two men after an hour or so, and upon discovering that they’d made up, he brought them his number one dessert on the house, just because he couldn’t believe that his plan had actually worked out. The man was so delighted that he even joined them for a couple of drinks before he had to run back to the kitchen to deal with his staff and guests.

When it was about time for the CEOs to start heading home, Wonwoo felt like there was something that he hadn’t yet been able to say, something that had been weighing him down ever since they had their talk. And if he didn’t say it now, he was afraid that he’d never get the chance to do so.

“Wait, before we leave I just want to say one last thing and I hope you’re not going to change your mind about tonight,” Wonwoo said when the two of them had gotten up from the table.

“This doesn’t sound like a good start,” Seungcheol chuckled as he adjusted his blue tie.

“I know, but I need to say this. Look, I know we’re trying to move past this, but I want to say again that I never meant to hurt anyone, especially Y/N.” At the mention of you, Seungcheol was suddenly on high alert, his lips pressing together into a thin line. “Even if we can’t be together, I want you to know that I’ll always have a special place in my heart for her. I never got to tell her because of everything that went down but I love her, Hyung. I love her in a way that I’ve never loved anyone else and I only want the best for her, even if that means it’ll eventually be with someone else.”

Wonwoo wasn’t sure if he’d made the right choice by telling his Hyung, but he did feel a huge sense of relief at getting that off his chest.

“I see,” Seungcheol nodded slowly, his gaze moving to the ground.

“I just needed you to know, that’s all, Hyung. Are we still good?” Wonwoo asked carefully, not knowing what was going on in his friend’s head right now.

“We are. I just need some time, that’s all,” he responded, meeting Wonwoo’s eyes once again. “I’ll see you later, yeah?” The younger man nodded and watched as Seungcheol made his exit.

Some time…Wonwoo could live with that, especially if it meant that he could have his friend back.

You don’t exactly remember how you’d ended up in this situation, but you were currently on your way to meet Mingyu at a cafe for what he called an ‘intervention’. The other night, he’d practically forced himself into your place with a bunch of delicious foods that you couldn’t say no to. And of course, he used your weakness against you and miraculously managed to convince you to join him for coffee at a low-key place to get you out of the house.

Another torturous week had passed without seeing Wonwoo and without talking to your brother – not that you minded the latter. This time, you’d even tried to pull yourself out of your slump on multiple occasions, but you somehow always ended up back on the couch with your tub of ice cream.

It did feel kind of weird to still be in contact with your ex-boyfriend's best friend. You were sure that if your brother knew about it, he’d flip a table – did you actually care about that? Not really. But despite the weirdness of the entire situation, you were truly glad that you had a friend like Mingyu. Aside from Wonwoo, he was the only one who understood what you were going through, so you appreciated his efforts to cheer you up.

Mingyu was waiting for you in front of the cafe, with his hood and mask up as expected. Fortunately, the place was practically empty when you two entered, which you guessed was a good thing since Mingyu was here with you. The last thing you needed was to be harassed by a bunch of paparazzi.

“Where should we sit?” you asked, scanning the cafe for a good spot that wouldn’t be too out in the open.

“How about in the back?” Mingyu suggested, quickly moving past you to lead the way. You were fine with anything, so you nodded, following him after greeting the staff members behind the counter.

“What the hell is he doing here?” you asked, your eyes widening at the figure that came into view when you neared the table in the back.

“Y/N, I know what this looks like, but trust me, there’s a reason for all of this,” Mingyu responded quickly. You should have known that he was up to no good.

“You better have a damn good reason, because I don’t remember this being part of the deal,” you grumbled, a frown making its way onto your face at the sight of your brother sitting at the small round table.

Seungcheol turned his attention to the chef, who was now looking more than a little nervous at the little scene that was unfolding in front of his eyes. “Mingyu! You didn’t tell her I was going to be here?”

Holding up his hands in defense, he said, “Don’t blame me! Do you really think she would have showed up if she knew you’d be there?”

“Yah! I’m right here!” you exclaimed, the frown on your face never faltering as you observed your brother. It had been a little over a month now since you’d last been in the same room with him. Being here confirmed that you had still not forgiven him for what he did. “I’m not talking to him.”

“Y/N, come on. Please, just sit down and listen. You don’t even have to talk if you don’t feel like it. I just need you to hear me first, and if that’s still not enough, you can leave. How does that sound?” Seungcheol pleaded, the desperation showing on his face. You were angry with him – very – but you guessed that it wouldn’t hurt to at least hear him out.

“Fine, I’ll listen. But at least let me get a coffee before we do this,” you sighed, your hands already reaching for the menu that was on the table.

“Already did. I ordered your favorite,” your brother said, to which you put the menu back down.

“Thanks, Cheol,” you mumbled, your eyes drifting over to the man that had orchestrated the whole thing.

“Alright, so then I’ll just let the two of you talk,” Mingyu announced from beside you.

“You’re leaving me with him?”

“Hey!” Seungcheol looked genuinely offended at your question.

“You’ll be fine, Y/N. Just give him a chance,” Mingyu smiled and gave you a thumbs up before leaving you with your brother.

One of the staff members was quick to bring you your drink order, which you were grateful for. It at least gave you something to keep your hands busy while listening to Seungcheol.

As Seungcheol sipped on his own drink, you took the opportunity to ask him the most obvious question. “Why am I here, Cheol? And did you really have to drag Mingyu into this?”

“He owed me, and besides, he was already in this anyway,” Your brother shrugged, causing you to scoff in response. Of course he would find a way. “Regarding you, I felt like we needed to talk about everything. I know I’m blocked, I got the hint.”

“Good,” you stated before bringing your cup of coffee to your lips.

“Look, I know I fucked up, okay? I shouldn’t have invaded your privacy and I definitely shouldn’t have resorted to violence. It was a dick move and I can own that. I’m sorry, Y/N. Truly.”

You put your cup down, looking him straight in the eyes. You needed to know if he was actually sorry and not just putting up an act just for the sake of making things right with you. “Are you actually sorry, Cheol?”

“I am! I really am. Not being able to see you for weeks and hearing that you can’t even stand to see my face really got to me. Especially when your colleague showed up to our usual meetings instead of you, I realized how much I hurt you with my actions. I should have come to you and talked to you about it, but I wasn’t thinking straight,” he shook his head.

“You can’t keep controlling everything in my life, Cheol. I’m not a child anymore and I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions. But you keep breathing down my neck for every little thing, which is, by the way, also one of the reasons I didn’t want you to find out about me dating anyone, friend or not. It can’t keep going on like this or you’ll lose me for good,” you spoke, hoping that the expression on your face was enough indication that you were dead serious about this.

“I know and trust me, I’ll try to be better.” You raised your eyebrows. “I mean, I’ll do better. It was never meant to go to this extent, I swear. Watching you ignore me and suffer on your own isn’t exactly something I’d envisioned. You’re my sister and I just want the best of the best for you. If that means backing off and letting you do your thing, then I’ll have to learn to let you go, he sighed.

A hum left your lips at that, your mind processing his words for a moment before you asked him another obvious follow-up question.

“And what about…Wonwoo?” You nearly choked on his name, the wound still a little too fresh.

“What about him?” your brother asked.

“Well, how are you two? Did you apologize to him?”

“I did, actually. We talked it out about a week ago after Mingyu forced us into a room together. Turns out that he’s pretty good at getting people to resolve conflicts, especially when food is involved,” he chuckled slightly before continuing. “Anyway, we both owned up to our own parts and we’re slowly getting back to what it used to be.”

You weren’t surprised to hear that Mingyu had been the one behind their reconciliation. In fact, you were quite certain that this would have dragged on for much longer had he not forced the two CEOs together. Whereas Seungcheol was stubborn, Wonwoo tended to avoid confrontations, both of which not exactly ideal qualities in times of conflict.

“That’s good, I guess,” you mumbled, feeling somewhat conflicted as you sipped on your coffee. On the one hand, you were glad that the two of them were on good terms again, but on the other hand, you envied your brother for being able to keep his friend while you were left with nothing but heartache.

“There’s actually another reason I asked you to come here.”

You immediately perked up at that, curious as to what else he could have wanted you here for. “Which is?”

What you didn’t expect was for your brother to start waving. Not at you, but at someone…behind you? Confused as to who he was waving, you turned around in your seat, only to nearly drop the coffee cup you were holding.

“W-Wonwoo?” you stuttered as your heart went into overdrive at seeing the man that had captured your heart walk over to your table. There was a cap on his head and a mask covering most of his face, but it was undeniably him – wearing that brown leather jacket that you loved so much.

The man himself seemed surprised at your presence too, his steps slightly faltering. “Hyung? What’s all this?”

“Take a seat.” Seungcheol motioned to the seat beside him. What the hell was the meaning of this? Why would he do this to you when he clearly knew that you were hurting?

Wonwoo hesitantly took a seat in the empty chair opposite from you, his eyes trained on your form. You were no different. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t look away from him, especially when he took off the face mask, revealing the pretty face that you’d gotten so used to. You were glad to see that his cheek had healed fine, but the bags under his eyes were pretty evident. Had he felt just as miserable as you this whole time?

The sound of a throat clearing is what finally got you to tear your gaze away from the CEO in front of you. Your brother was fidgeting in his seat, seemingly nervous about something.

“So, you’re probably wondering why the both of you are here.”

“Obviously,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest while trying to push down the butterflies that had formed in your stomach.

“Right. Well, I had some more time to think, specifically about something Wonwoo said to me last week,” Seungcheol started, his eyes switching to the man sitting next to him. “A certain someone made me realize that I should accept the fact that I can’t control everything that happens. You can’t help who you like or love, and I guess that applies to the two of you too.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at his words. “Wait. What are you saying? What do you mean by that, Cheol?”

Your brother sighed in frustration, twisting his body slightly so that he could address the both of you clearly. “What I’m saying is that I’m not as opposed to the two of you being together anymore.”

“Hyung, are you serious? You would accept us dating?” Wonwoo asked, who, just like you, could not believe what he was hearing from his friend’s mouth.

“If what you said to me that night is still the truth, then yes. Like I told Y/N before, I only want the best for her and I guess I was scared that you wouldn’t be good enough for her, especially with lives as busy as ours. If I’m being honest, no one has ever been good enough in my opinion. But in this case, I was overdoing it a little bit because you were supposed to be my good friend.”

“A little?” you huffed, throwing a pointed look in his direction.

“Okay, a lot. Anyway, I will have to get used to the idea and it will probably take a while, but I’ve seen with my own two eyes what being apart did to the two of you. That’s why I’m giving you my blessing. Just, don’t make me regret it,” your brother said, looking between you and Wonwoo.

“So, I take it that kissing in front of you is a no-go then?” Wonwoo asked, a hint of a smirk on his face. You wanted to scream at the absurdity of this scene. Was Wonwoo actually teasing your brother about kissing you in front of him? – you seriously feared for his face again. Then again, the thought of kissing him after all this time also made your heart flutter.

“Don’t push it, Jeon. Remember that hit you took? That was me going easy on you,” Seungcheol joked, but you didn’t find it that funny.

“Cheol,” you warned.

“I know, I know,” he laughed, causing Wonwoo to crack a little smile too. “But I’m serious, if you hurt her, I’ll know where to find you,” Seungcheol threatened, his own smile faltering slightly.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Hyung,” Wonwoo assured your overprotective brother.

“Okay, enough with the macho stuff. I would like to stay in the peaceful and forgiving bubble we were in up until a few seconds ago,” you begged, not wanting to risk ruining this dream-like moment. What universe had you landed in for your brother to change his mind? Who was this person that had managed to convince your brother? You would kiss them if you could.

Seungcheol looked at you, his own expression softening when he noticed your concerned one. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I’m not going to change my mind. I was just making sure that we’re on the same page.”

“You promise?”

“I promise,” Seungcheol smiled and for the first time this afternoon, you let yourself smile too. “By the way, does this mean I’m forgiven and you’ll finally unblock me?”

That question earned a shrug from you, followed by a smirk. “Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe? Maybe not? Guess you’ll have to find out at the next consultation.”

“I guess I can survive for another two days.”

“You don’t really have a choice, because I don’t think I’ll be available for the next two days anyway,” you stated, after which you dared to peek at Wonwoo, who you found already staring at you with the hint of a mischievous look on his face.

“What do y-aish.” Your brother’s expression morphed into one of disgust as his eyes darted from you to Wonwoo. “Just go. Or I might actually change my mind in the next few seconds.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice. The rest of your coffee now all forgotten, you nearly jumped up from your chair and reached for Wonwoo’s hand. The CEO was quick to put on his mask and tightened his grasp on your hand as he got up from the seat. You barely remembered to say goodbye to Seungcheol as you hurried out of the cafe, Wonwoo hot on your heels.

“Slow down. I’m not going to disappear, you know,” Wonwoo chuckled as you reached the parking lot.

“I already let you go once. You really think I’m going to waste time by taking it easy this time?” you questioned, taking that moment to let your eyes wander over him. Any work he’d been planning to do would have to wait, because there was no way you were going to leave his side for the next few days.

“You have a point. Mine or yours?” he asked, repeating the question you’d asked him too on the night of your last date.

“Yours. My place is a mess,” you replied, grimacing at the thought of having to clean up the aftermath of weeks of laziness.

“Can’t promise mine is much better, but I could care less.” Now, it was Wonwoo who took the lead, tugging on your hand as he led you to his car.

The drive to Wonwoo’s place was agonizing. You couldn’t keep your hands still, mainly because all you wanted was to touch the man sitting next to you. However, you weren’t about to cause an accident. You could wait. You’d been doing that for the past few weeks, so you could manage a few more minutes. Instead, you chose to observe him. He’d luckily taken off his mask, so there was nothing to obstruct your view.

It was crazy to think that up until today, you’d been a total mess. You’d felt completely lost for the last couple of weeks, not knowing if you’d ever go back to your old self. But now you were sitting in the car with the man you were still so in love with. Even after weeks of not seeing each other, he still managed to evoke the same reactions from you – butterflies in your stomach, your heart racing and your mind filled with nothing but him. Only this time, you wanted all of him and there was nothing or no one that would be able to come in between you this time.

You couldn’t help but grin at the way Wonwoo was gripping onto the steering wheel. Though he didn’t voice his thoughts, it was obvious that he was trying to hold himself together. Your mouth opened to tease him about it, but you refrained yourself from doing so. Teasing would undoubtedly lead to flirting and with the sexual tension hanging in the air, you had a feeling that Wonwoo would have no problem making a pit stop to have his way with you in the car. And although it seemed quite tempting, the risk was just too big. A scandal was not how you wanted to start off this second chance you’d been given.

“You coming?” Wonwoo asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. You noticed that he’d parked his car in his garage and had gotten out to open your side. A smile formed onto your face and you nodded, happily accepting the hand that he’d offered.

“I feel like we probably should have stopped at my place to get some clothes though,” you said as you followed behind Wonwoo, the front door closing soon after that.

“I don’t think you’ll be needing any clothes for what I have in mind,” he mumbled, caging you in between himself and the front door.

The sudden proximity caused goosebumps all over your body, your breath caught in your throat for a second as your eyes found his dark brown ones.

Then Wonwoo was suddenly kissing you before you could get a proper response out. His hands were on your sides in seconds, pressing you further against the door as his tongue slipped into your mouth. Your eyes had automatically closed at the feeling of his soft lips against your own, with your hands making their way to the collar of his leather jacket to pull him even closer. If this was what pure bliss felt like, you never wanted it to stop.

“I love you,” you mumbled in between kisses, not being able to keep it to yourself for another second. The last time you’d wanted to say it, he’d stopped you and you’d respected that. But now…it felt so good to finally be able to say it out loud, especially since there were no consequences this time.

Wonwoo detached himself from you at your proclamation, which was met with a whine of protest from your side at the loss of his lips. With a little chuckle leaving said lips, he leaned his forehead against yours.

“I love you too. So fucking much,” he said before leaning in to plant a few more kissing onto your awaiting lips. “I can’t believe that I actually told your brother that before telling you.”

“You what? No actually, I don't care about that right now. I want to get to the part where we won’t need our clothes,” you pouted, growing more and more impatient and needier the longer you spent fully clothed.

The CEO in front of you smirked at your request, his hands moving down to squeeze your ass gently. “If that’s what my baby wants, then I better comply, huh?” God, this man was going to be the death of you.

Read the smut HERE or skip.

“So, how does it feel? Dating the boss’ sister?” Jeonghan teased, taking a seat on the couch next to the SEVENTEEN Gaming CEO.

Chan’s eyes lit up at the question. “Yeah, Hyung. Tell us,” he urged, drawing the attention of several of the others in the room.

Wonwoo wasn’t surprised that the news of you and him getting back together had already reached his friends. If he had to guess, Mingyu was most likely the one that had spilled the beans – there was no way Seungcheol would have told them. Plus, the fact that the chef was currently avoiding his best friend’s eyes was enough confirmation.

“It’s great. She’s everything I could have wanted.” A small smile made its way onto Wonwoo’s face at the thought of you. It had been three weeks since Seungcheol had given his blessing and the two of you had made it official once again – without exaggeration, the best three weeks of his life.

“Aiii, look at him all happy,” Jun exclaimed, which was followed by a bunch of giggles and screams from the men in the room.

Jisoo, who was sitting next to Jeonghan, nudged his friend. “I bet you he was thinking about some dirty stuff.”

Wonwoo immediately released an annoyed sigh at the playful comment. “I wasn’t.”

“It’s okay, Hyung. We don’t blame you,” Mingyu winked at him from the opposite side of the room.

As if it couldn’t get any worse, Seungkwan decided to open his big mouth. “Hyung! Your brother-in-law over here is having dirty thoughts about your sister!” he yelled to the managing CEO, who was currently getting some snacks from his kitchen. The other men in the room burst out laughing while Wonwoo genuinely feared for his life.

“Yah! Do you want to die?” Wonwoo hissed, hitting the man in question with a newspaper that he found on the small table beside the couch. He should have known that he would never live this down.

Fortunately, Seungcheol seemed completely clueless when he re-entered the room. “Did I miss anything?” Thank god for the big apartment.

“Nothing important,” Wonwoo said quickly before anyone else had the chance to tell him the truth.

“We were just talking about how Wonwoo managed to score your sister,” Minghao spoke, ignoring the glare that Wonwoo threw his way.

Jeonghan grinned before adding, “And to think I missed the chance to shoot my shot.”

“In your dreams,” Wonwoo and Seungcheol responded at the same time, the latter throwing a handful of popcorn at the fashionable CEO. That quickly wiped the grin from his face as he started to scold Seungcheol for nearly staining his designer outfit.

Jihoon rolled his eyes at the squabbling couple. “All jokes aside, we’re truly happy for you, man.”

“Hyung’s right. I can’t believe you went through all that shit and ended up getting your happy ending with Y/N,” Seokmin beamed.

“Well, I guess Mingyu deserves most of the credit.” Wonwoo pointed at the man.

“I can confirm. If anyone needs a matchmaker, conflict resolver or wingman, I’m your guy. You can contact my personal assistant for inquiries,” he declared, a smug look taking over his features.

“I think I’ll pass,” Jihoon mumbled.

“Me too,” Soonyoung agreed with a nod. The chef, who was seemingly offended at being flat out rejected, took that as an invitation to start bickering with his two Hyungs.

A buzzing sound in Wonwoo’s pocket got him to pull his phone out. It was a message from you.

A little sneak peek for tomorrow’s date night: [Image attached] Don’t we look cute? I got you one too! :D

He couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of you dressed in the Sherlock Holmes attire that you’d thrifted for the movie you were going to watch. Bom, Saja and Shiro were sitting beside you, all of them wearing little matching detective hats and capes. How you’d managed to put that on Saja and Shiro AND gotten them to sit still for a picture was a mystery to Wonwoo. He couldn’t wish for anything better.

“What’s up with that face?” the ever-observant Mingyu asked, quickly spotting the love-struck look on his best friend’s face.

Wonwoo simply shook his head, still not believing that the universe had blessed him with someone like you.

“Nothing. Just happy, that’s all.”

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AAAND THE END! Hope you all enjoyed the first chapter :D Feedback/comments/reblogs are highly appreciated!

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